Hi I'm Fae! I have characters you like; be my friend! |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Fae Magic on Mar 21, 2020 12:21:03 GMT -5
The birds were just starting to begin their morning chirps. Early birds coming out of their nests to hunt for their new babies. The cold Leaf-Bare was melting away much like the snow around them thanks to New-Leaf making it an easier time of finding good food to bring back home. Thanks to New-Leaf even the clan cats were having better luck each day they came out to hunt for prey. As new life bloomed from under the cold grasp of Leaf-Bare came new life such as herbs and plants for the medicine cats to gather and the warriors had plenty of prey to hunt day by day as the weather warmed up and their source of prey became bold to come out and about to gather food for themselves. Silverburr was one of those gratefully making his way along the well worn path towards his favorite place to be in within his clan's territory. Crystal Creek was a fun spot to hang out with clan mates or find solitude in it's calming presence as it spoke to you through gentle gurgles. The creek had once been partly frozen over when the snow came for all those many months. But now it had melted away and spoke once more; greeting you like an old friend wanting to tell you what they did over their winter break. The silver dappled tabby tom's long legs whisked him along the path towards the sound of the water up ahead; the fresh scents of warm breeze, moist earth, and the fresh scent of water up ahead made him almost eager to pick up his pace to get there quicker. When he was a young apprentice this was one of his favorite spots to relax after his training. He never really had friends back then besides clan mates to share in his adventures as he was known for being a rather determined tom who focused more on his training and abilities then he did bonding with the clan at a personal level. He helped out of course where he could and was needed but his persona made others stay away and not want to get to know him. That was the only regret the warrior had from his kithood and apprenticeship. He never took the time to get to know others on that personal level that bonded him to the clan. He was just known for being a noble and caring tom but aloof at the same time because of his inner drive to succeed and provide and protect. Now as Silverburr drew around the bend and settled himself down beside the water's edge he mourned the lack of friends he had to share the moment with. Of course, it's never too late to make friends but he knew it would be a bit harder because of his reputation. He frowned staring at his reflection in the mirror. He always got made fun of his feminine features. His face was too skinny and long. Ears too big for his head. Eyes too keen making him look much like a rat or a mouse just from his head shape and whiskers. Not to mention his body that was long like a snake and just as slender as any molly within the clan at first glance and a tail to match his spindly legs. He was disproportionate in all the right and wrong places and it gave him reason to stay away from the funny looks and back talk he may have gotten when he was younger. Maybe that's why he didn't make friends. Because he was too scared of being made fun of for his appearance. That's why he drove everyone away to dedicate himself to his duties instead. But now he wondered if he truly should have buckled up and taken what he could to make whatever friends he could as a youngling. Now, he regretted it all. He envied those young apprentices and even warriors as old or older then him with such a tight bond and he was alone. Shaking his head he lifted his head from where he stared at the water and looked around at the peaceful territory around him. He needn't take the time to grieve over something that he no longer had the right to gain. He would continue his job and duty to serve his clan and have to be content with that. Maybe he should go hunting today? The morning was pretty as the sun was starting to peak through the horizon and the trees that grew leaves. He stood to his paws ready to start his hunting expedition when he suddenly heard something behind him. He whipped around startled not expecting anyone else to be there; bright green eyes staring through the murky lighting as it slowly grew more and more bright outside from the sun that inched it's way through the sky to see who would be out here at this time of the morning. Had he missed a patrol sent out and they happened to stumble upon him? Maybe he could join them? β π½πππ£ππππ₯ππ π
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You said my words would kill you but you stood there all the same. |
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STAFF GaleClan MCA
INVENTORY
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Post by β π½πππ£ππππ₯ππ π on Mar 24, 2020 15:07:34 GMT -5
Time and again boys are raised to be men He had always loved this time of year most. The gentle whispering winds over fields full of flowers only now beginning to shake the grips of frost. Their colourful petals bursting from ripe green buds, unfurling their little dresses to the vast skies. There was something so strange about it now, though. Perhaps it was how much had changed in such a short span of time.
The last time these hills bloomed with flowers, he had been an apprentice, racing through the fields with Pebblepaw and Gorsepaw at his heels. Briartail would ask him about his training, and his mother would rasp her tongue behind his ears by way of comfort whenever he had a bad day. Gorsebelly and Briartail were dead and buried two seasons now. Pebblefang had abandoned the Clan for some rogue tom Birchspots had never even seen. And he was a mentor. It was that last responsibility that made nervousness prick his heart. He could hardly feel responsible for himself right now. How could Redstar believe he could be responsible for an entire education? He's trying to keep me busy. He knew that, deep down. He knew he wasn't built to be much of a mentor. But something in him didn't want to let Skypaw down, anyway.
So he needed to clear his head, to work out a training schedule so he could turn Skypaw into a better warrior than he ever had been. That goal gave him solace, and he could feel that he was returning to his old self again. If only his old self wasn't such a nervous wreck. "Morning Quailfoot." Birchspots mewed to the older tom as he passed. Though Quailfoot returned his greeting politely, he spotted the flare of surprise in his green eyes. Birchspots had become so withdrawn in the past two seasons that most of his clanmates didn't press him to speak unless he wanted to. He seemed to want to more and more nowadays. It felt weird.
The creek had never been a place he really sought out all that much. He didn't like to get his paws wet, and he wasn't particularly fond of water voles, either. But today, his paws carried him there. He wanted to see what flowers had bloomed along the banks. He wanted to gather some, maybe make a little arrangement. That would be nice. Briartail had always shared his own love for flowers. Tawnybelly never really saw much point in flowers. He even thought herbs, which medicine cats used to heal, were useless. His opinion was that if a warrior was going to die from a sickness or an injury, then they were too weak to provide for the Clan in the first place. Birchspots's gaze darkened. He would not sour this one good day with memories of Tawnybelly. He was delighted to see that the ice that had laid claim over the shallow waters had begun to melt. The trickle of water that welcomed him looked as excited as he felt for the approach of New-leaf, of growth and life returning to the moor. He stretched out his legs into a striding run, streaking down the hill to come to a skittered stop by the water's edge.
A duck let out a series of petulant quacks, rising into the air with a flutter of feathers. Birchspots watched it flap awkwardly away, his golden eyes gleaming. Yeah, this is a good day. He thought peacefully, setting about to choosing flowers for his arrangement. There were a few perched along the short little bank, as well as a few little tiny pond lilies only just beginning to open. He purred, dipping his paw into the shallow water to watch it ripple. His torn ear twitched at a sudden noise to his right, and he instantly dropped down into a crouch. Paranoia overtook him. What could it be? Fox? Rogue? A StoneClan invasion? He poked his head through the rushes, setting his paws down as slow as he could. It was early morning, surely no other cat was out and about at this time, except for the dawn patrol. He felt his entire body sag with relief as a familiar shape came into view. "S-sorry... uh... Silverthorn?" Birchspots apologised. He frowned. No, that wasn't his name. "S-Silverspike?" It was Silver-something alright, he just couldn't place it, and it was horribly humiliating. Silverwhatsit was a few moons older than he was, but he had always been so incredibly withdrawn, even before Birchspots had begun to isolate himself from his clanmates. Terrified that he had offended his clanmate, he half felt like just turning tail and heading back to camp with some half-hearted excuse that he was on an errand for Owlmind, or something.
Impatient they start and fearful they end |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Fae Magic on Mar 28, 2020 10:40:45 GMT -5
As He stared down at his reflection in the mirroed glass of water below him through the gentle waves that licked at his paws so close to the bank of the water; SilverBurr was so lost in his own thoughts that he had startled himself when he had heard the sound of paw steps coming his direction. His head turned towards the sound and his eyes scanned the treeline carefully before suddenly a figure came rushing out at a sprint towards the water's edge not too far from where the older warrior sat himself. This tom though did not seem to know that SilverBurr was there at first as he was enjoying himself at the water's surface and disturbing a duck that was swimming nearby; it was kind of amusing watching the other, although SilverBurr was no stalker he decided to turn away to enjoy his own peace and quiet or as much of it as he could at this point and try not to think about the other tom nearby or his troubles and decided to enjoy his quiet time before he had to come home and be sent out again on duty; his paw reached out and bent a nearby cat tail stalk that grew along the edge and played with it's fluffy tipped head; which of course that made a sound as it snapped under his heavier then delicate touch and alerted the other to his presence. Darn it!, he hadn't meant to disturb the young warrior. They both seemed to want to be left alone it had seemed but apparently SilverBurr was wrong. That or the other was being far too polite upon seeing him.
His pale green eyes looked over towards the other tom blankly as he stutttered out names that weren't even right as he tried to catch SilverBurr's by memory which he of course did not. SilverBurr wasn't one who had personal interaction with others very often outside of duty so apprentice he tended to stay clear from and he knew by the look of this young warrior he had not been a warrior too long yet and SilverBurr wouldn't have known him personally. He did however know everyone by name; as he was rather maticulous when it came to knowing faces and names even if he did not want or need to know them personally to care. He gave the other a tilt of the head as he struggled a little and then fell silent looking like a lost kit and embarrassed as heck that he didn't get the older warrior's name right. That for some odd reason made the older tabby smile slightly and cleared his throat with an amused glint in his eyes as he replied back towards the younger warrior. Birchspots he knew by face and having watched him train before was the only apprentice that SilverBurr found interesting enough to watch more closely then others as he showed more potential then some of the others that the silver tabby had been interested enough in keep in a close eye on in case of mentorship change or something like that. Thank Starclan SilverBurr never took on an apprentice; they would be ruined for life he just knew it if he had taken one under his wing.
"It's SilverBurr actually but close enough, you at least made an effort." he finally spoke up with a small smirk as he turned towards the water again.
"You don't need to fret over yourself for not knowing. I know we have not properly met before within the clan and I didn't expect you to know my name. Although, I do know your BirchSpots," his green eyes slowly turned back towards him from the corner of his eyes. "I've been keeping watch over you for awhile since you became an apprentice. Congratulations on gaining your warrior name. I was impressed." he added.
It might have been a long time coming for the congratulations granted but SilverBurr wasn't a social cat and he honestly didn't know how to talk to others outside of talking fighting and duties of a warrior. He would often come off sounding like some creepy nut job or something whenever he spoke to people in a way that he was making an actual effort in talking to them outside of his usual monologue. But, after many moons of watching this particular apprentice who just turned into a warrior SilverBurr was glad for the off chance that they would meet right here in this morning. He honestly didn't know why he was glad or why this particular young warrior intrigued him but something inside him made him stand out to the other tom and take notice of him a little more then the others and SilverBurr wasn't sure how to handle that or what to think about it as no one really intrigued him before outside of patrol partnering or other warrior duties.
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You said my words would kill you but you stood there all the same. |
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STAFF GaleClan MCA
INVENTORY
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Post by β π½πππ£ππππ₯ππ π on Apr 5, 2020 7:50:25 GMT -5
Time and again boys are raised to be men He almost shrivelled in on himself as he met the blank gaze of the other silver tom. He couldn't discern from those glinting green eyes if he was offended by the younger warrior's stumble, or if he thought the other warrior was a complete and utter idiot. Silverwhatsit had eyes that almost seemed to pierce through his soul, and it made him feel uncomfortably exposed under the bright Newleaf sun. The dainty, feminine cat was one who he had never properly shared a conversation with before, and due to the sheer number of cats inhabiting LightningClan's moors he hadn't even gone on patrol much with him, either.
When the other cat finally spoke, his voice was like cool raindrops on the surface of the lake, unoffended and slightly amused if anything. "It's Silverburr, actually. But close enough, you at least made an effort." A slight smirk crawled across Silverburr's face, and Birchspots cleared his throat as both turned their attention towards the creek. "You don't need to fret over yourself for not knowing. I know we have not properly met before within the Clan and I didn't expect you to know my name." His only answer was to nod, swirling his tail across the smooth grassy bank. "Although, I do know you're Birchspots." Silverburr added. He perked up in surprise, his golden gaze flicking towards the dainty, lanky young tom. Silverburr's own eyes slowly met his, and he felt another, fiercer wave of guilt crash over him that he hadn't known this cat's name. "I've been keeping watch over you for awhile since you became an apprentice. Congratulations on gaining your warrior name. I was impressed." At this, Birchspots finally regained his ability to speak, shaking his head with a laugh. "Thank you." He murmured, his voice quiet. "But I'm afraid you'll be disappointed to find there's not all too much impressive about me." He glanced down at his reflection in the rippling creek, an identical silver form staring back at him with a face that looked somewhat older since the last time he had seen him. His right ear, with the missing tip, gave a subtle twitch.
"Me, Gorsebelly and Pebblepaw never spent too much time with you because we always thought you preferred to be alone." He looked back up, apologetic. "I'm sorry if we were wrong. I understand now how it feels to be alone, like a stranger to your own clanmates." He let out a small exhale, a breath that he expected to mist in the air in front of him, but didn't. It must be getting warmer quicker than he expected.
Impatient they start and fearful they end |
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Hi I'm Fae! I have characters you like; be my friend! |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Fae Magic on Apr 10, 2020 11:54:21 GMT -5
SilverBurr could feel the awkwardness rediating off of the younger male even without having to look at him or see how he was taking their interactions. The older warrior had kept eyes on many of the apprentices and warriors among his clan even if he didn't know them personally. He prided himself in at least knowing their stats and faces to go with the names. It was his only way of keeping some kind of thread to his clan to connect even if he had always come off of stand off-ish or unapproachable. He did it to protect himself even if others did not see it that way it did not matter. The younger silver warrior sitting a few tail lengths away from him seemed like that type that SilverBurr would have liked to at least have spoken to once in awhile; despite being a warrior BirchSpots did not seem to have much of a strong backbone as he was rather socially awkward and seemed to have low self esteem. Or at least that's what SilverBurr had gathered; it's different when you actually speak to that cat to get to know them properly; as SilverBurr was much misunderstood himself he was more aware of that very fact then anyone. But, he liked this young tom. He wanted to get to know him a bit better as he was much like SilverBurr himself; seemingly without much interaction or friends with others. A small frown etched on his maw as his ears caught the words that the other spoke. So he was right, the poor warrior didn't really have self esteem or self confidence in his abilities. That would have to change; if there was anything the older tom didn't like was when he saw young warriors like BirchSpots living and thinking that they were not good enough; not for the clan and not for themselves.
"And who says that about you?" He finally questioned once he processed his words and turned his head towards the water to stare down at his own reflection.
How many times had he himself thought that about himself growing up? When nothing seemed to go right and he just got beaten down more and more than he was making progress. Granted, this was no apprentice he spoke to so he knew that BirchSpots had some experience under him even if a little; it means more then being fresh eyed from the nursery and he had to realize that about himself.
"It does not matter how long you have been a warrior or an apprentice; everyone learns something new every day and even the most senior of warriors can still learn something from someone such as a younger warrior or even an apprentice. It's the strength and determination you have to do what you have to not how long it was that you trained. You need to realize that you became a warrior for a reason BirchSpots; it was not just because you turned 12 moons before any experience was made." he looked back at the other and gave him a small smile.
"I am known for being a rather tactical and loner type of cat; I give off that kind of vibe. I'm used to being alone but your right, sometimes it'd be good to get out and actually speak with someone. I unfortunately have not really had the....mental courage to do so after so many moons of being treated as I had." he shrugged.
It wasn't a lie since SilverBurr was a solitary cat and he had been given so many opportunities to go talk to his clan mates. The thing wrong with that was his insecurity. No one really knew him all that well to the point that they would ever think that the tactical and take charge tom was really rather insecure. Due to his looks and his appearance he had a bit of uncertain air about him if you looked close enough. He tries to put on an air of authority and hides behind his determination and dedication to his clan to hide the fact that he's lonely. But something about BirchSpots made him realize that maybe not every clan mate was the same. It had been many many a moon since he was a small kit himself or an apprentice that got his grief from being picked on for looking the way he did.
"You at least have friends you grew up with right? It's better then nothing." he gave a small smile staring down at his own reflection. "I hide behind my sense of duty and determination to be able to strive forward and focus my energy on something other then my woes. That's what makes me so good at what I do...but that's also what makes me so lonely." he added with a small frown.
"You remind me a lot of how I once was when I was younger...when I was still trying to fit in and trying to get past the teasing and getting picked on...before I decided I was going to have them look at me for a whole new reason then just my looks so that maybe they would stop picking on me. Tell me, what makes you so timid or uncertain about your capabilities?" he questioned wondering if he had the same issue as SilverBurr. If it was something the older tom could actually help him with.
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You said my words would kill you but you stood there all the same. |
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STAFF GaleClan MCA
INVENTORY
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Post by β π½πππ£ππππ₯ππ π on Apr 21, 2020 7:20:52 GMT -5
Time and again boys are raised to be men He was rather surprised by the insight the other cat seemed to possess, the searching look in his bright green eyes. The young warrior had always been uncomfortable under scrutiny, and now was no different. But at least this cat didn't quite make him feel like he was being looked down on. Instead, there was genuine curiosity about the way Silverburr studied him now, and though Birchspots felt inclined to drop his gaze, he appreciated the genuity with which the other warrior spoke. "And who says that about you?" Silverburr asked, while both cats looked down at their similar, but distinct reflections. "Ah, a few cats. It's okay, really." He settled down to lay by the side of the creek, the grass tufts forming a protective circle around him. "Some cats aren't supposed to be-" He had been about to say 'warriors', but his voice cut off. "... important." He decided instead, flicking an ear.
There seemed to be an understanding between the two, and it felt nice. Birchspots listened peaceably to Silverburr's little speech, offering a nod now and then to indicate that he was paying attention and not dozing off looking at a ladybird make awkward progress across a flower stem. If there was anything he was good at, it was listening. He looked up with a faint smile. "I think my mentor was just sick of training me!" He joked, white whiskers twitching. "You know, you do have a point. I... knew someone, who thought bravery in battle was everything about being a cat." He looked up at the sky. "But I don't believe that anymore. I think... there are a lot of different ways to show courage." He felt a momentary lull of peace. Maybe there was something remarkable about him. Maybe every cat had something that made them them, and it was okay to be the way he was. Maybe.
Birchspots nodded at Silverburr's comment about even cats that liked solitude feeling lonely sometimes. "I understand." He replied quietly. "Every cat needs someone to talk to every once in a while." He dipped his head. "I'm sorry you were treated badly. Some cats can be... harsh." A bird twittered across the waters. "With Gorsebelly and Pebblefang both gone, I don't have all too many friends left." He confessed, a tinge of regret in his voice. Silverburr's question caused a glimmer of surprise in him. "Well, I..." My mentor, Gustpaw, Pebblefang.... "I don't know." He murmured hopelessly. "What makes you so sure other cats think you're strange?"
Impatient they start and fearful they end |
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Hi I'm Fae! I have characters you like; be my friend! |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Fae Magic on Apr 21, 2020 10:42:21 GMT -5
He had at least been paying attention to his words and not throw them aside or continue to think so badly about himself. The older warrior watched the other from the corner of his eye as he spoke trying to gauge his reaction to his words. Not a lot would think that Silverburr was a rather intuitive character because no one got to know him. So, the eyes could be the window to the soul but the heart was the door to the soul and if anyone knew Silverburr, he had more heart then he liked to make others believe. The comment about some cats not being important made the other snort and tip his head towards the sky to stare up at the clouds with an amiused look in his eyes. Ah, no truer words have been spoken from a young mind when it comes to life. Silverburr wasn't the most optomistic cat out there to go blurting out 'well every cat is important!' because frankly, he did agree. Some cats were not important. To a degree. Not a bad thing, it came more from the stand point of something deeper then it seemed. "Some cats aren't important your right. But it is the eye of the beholder. It doesn't matter if your important as a member of a clan or a group of friends although yes it's a nice thought. I won't say that I completely disagree with you on that topic but you also have to think; even if you aren't important as a whole group. As long as you are important to at least one person and yourself then it doesn't matter what stage of importance you are. Heck you could be the clan crippled and no one looks at your twice because you can't do anything. But at the end of the day. You're strength and heart is what makes you the special cat you are no matter who's eyes are on you." He gave a small smile thinking when he was younger and learned that very lesson the hard way. It honestly didn't matter who saw you as important. As long as you were happy with who you are and what you have accomplished in life to get you where you are. When the conversation turned towards the older warrior due to his little spool of being lonely and outcast when young; the silver tom turned to look at the other and met his gaze with a curious look in them. This is why he liked the little thing. He was kind even without having to know the story behind why the great and mighty general was so lonely. He studied the other tom with a new look in his eyes; a bit of admiration and he gave him a small smile as he tipped his head towards him in gratitude. "Thank you, I do appriecate your kind words. It's alright though in the end. I've come to terms with whee I came from and how I grew up. I just learned that it doesn't matter where you come from as long as you know who you are and where you're going. I will admit I am not too keen on how I have lived my life recently as I have some to find that my life has been wholly missing the joys of life that does not come from solo activities." he turned to play with a blade of grass seemingly almost embarrassed to say the next words that came out of his mouth as he refused to even look at the other tom as he was not used to sharing his feelings. "I thank you for listening to me; perhaps we could be friends, maybe." good Starclan this older warrior was such a charmer with words isn't he? He was acting like a bashful apprentice with his first crush instead of a grown warrior who seemingly was lonely and wanted a friend.The question of who Silverburr thought him strange made the other pause a moment and then look over at him in an almost confused look. It was a look that held uncertainty and puzzlement as he thought over the simple question. See the thing was, it wasn't a particular cat that made the other feel strange or having been called strange. It was more of a feeling of being judged and looked down at because of his looks. He had been having a hard time as a kit growing up and an apprentice with other apprentices picking fun at him for his feminine looks. He had just assumed as he grew older that everyone looked at him like that even if they did not openly express it like some others had when he was younger. He hummed a wordless reply as he thought about his answer before he looked away in a bit of perplexed way as he replied slowly. "Honestly, after I got picked on for my err...less then tom like looks by some cats my age growing up I had just assumed that everyone else did the same even if they didn't say it openly. Maybe it was my paranoia that made me think I saw the judgement in others eyes...but I dunno...I guess I just assumed everyone thought of me that way because I was different and not a lot of cats like different...well not back then when I was younger." he mumbled thinking about his past. Was he really that scared that he had lived his entire life from a young age pushing and punishing himself over something that didn't even matter or existed in the first place? Was he so scared by the past that he had imagined those looks and pushed himself to change just so that he could be liked for something and not made fun for another? He had hated his looks for so long because he felt like he was just too girly for the type of cat that he was; that never helped when he finally took charge either..he just never took charge of his own life. "Have I been delusional all this time?...or do people still think I look funny because I'm more feminine then some toms?" he questioned looking at the other frowning before shaking his head quickly to rid himself of those thoughts. it didn't matter if he had been or not it still had been done and thought about and he could not change the past or his actions. But he could change his future.
Tag β π½πππ£ππππ₯ππ π
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You said my words would kill you but you stood there all the same. |
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STAFF GaleClan MCA
INVENTORY
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Post by β π½πππ£ππππ₯ππ π on Mar 18, 2021 19:10:16 GMT -5
Boys are raised to be men. BIRCHSPOTS [attr="class","birch"] A silver, spotted tail flicked back and forth, the taste of the crisp air playing on his tongue. He listened to the sounds of the moors, the incessant clicking of insects, the clacking wings of birds in the sky above. Silverburr was a much better listener than Birchspots had ever pegged him for. He regretted not having spoken to the tom sooner, they seemed to have much more in common than the hue of their pelts and the moorland paths their paws walked. The tom next to him snorted in amusement at the comment about βimportanceβ, and Birchspots found himself casting him a sidelong glance. A long silence stretched between them, but rather than getting the impression that he was being ignored, Birchspots felt like Silverburr was mulling over those words, formulating a response as he looked up at the sky. βSome cats arenβt important, youβre right.β To Birchspotsβs surprise, Silverburr agreed with him, rather than insisting on positivity and individual importance. βBut it is in the eye of the beholder. It doesnβt matter if youβre important as a member of a Clan, or a group of friendsβ¦ although yes, that is a nice thought.β Birchspots flicked an ear, watching Silverburr as he continued. βI wonβt say that I completely disagree with you on that topic, but you also have to thinkβ¦ even if you arenβt important to a whole group,β They both met eyes, silver face to silver face. βAs long as you are important to at least one cat, and yourself, then is doesnβt matter what stage of importance you are.β Birchspots hadnβt really considered it this way before. In his eyes, he had always been on the outside in his own Clan, a small and insignificant portion of a large population of much more impressive group. Did it really only matter so long as he mattered to his kin, to himselfβ¦? βBut at the end of the day, your strength and heart are what make you the special cat you are no matter who's eyes are on you." The silver tabby smiled. βThatβs kind of you to say.β He meowed quietly. Though part of his heart told him that of course, Silverburr did not know him well. But then how had his words seemed to resonate so strongly with some deeper aspect of his soul? Perhaps there was more alike between him and Silverburr than the markings on their fur.
Birchspots found himself growing to like Silverburr. The other tom had wise words to share, and a kindness in his eyes that made him feel less nervous. With a polite dip of his head and a smile, Silverburr continued. "Thank you, I do appreciate your kind words. It's alright though. In the end, I've come to terms with where I came from and how I grew up.β Birchspots nodded. He could understand that. There were some things that had to be left behind in the past where they could not dig their claws into the happiest moments in the present and spoil them. After all, the past was an unchanging fact of existence. There was little you could do to retrace your pawsteps and rewrite your own kithood, apprenticeship or early warriorhood. The best you could do was chug steadily on and hope the future gleams brighter. βI just learned that it doesn't matter where you come from as long as you know who you are and where you're going. I will admit I am not too keen on how I have lived my life recently as I have come to find that my life has been wholly missing the joys of life that does not come from solo activities." Silverburr confessed. Birchspots turned to him, his golden eyes sincere. βIt doesnβt have to stay that way, Silverburr.β He surprised himself by offering. βI-I mean,β He coughed. He hadnβt really said anything that impulsive in moons. βYou know. Our talk has beenβ¦ nice. And itβs nice to be able to spend some time with a clanmate outside ofβ¦ patrols and hunting.β Birchspots noticed Silverburr reaching down to bat at a blade of grass with a silver paw, seemingly embarrassed. "I thank you for listening to me; perhaps we could be friends, maybe." The other tom murmured shyly. Birchspots couldnβt help but smile. He knew what that awkward feeling was, so he found it hard to judge Silverburr for his awkwardness in delivering that line. βY-yeah, sure!β He meowed, a note of surprise in his voice as he watched Silverburr curiously. βYou didnβt have to ask, really. Itβd be nice to have someone else to talk to. Especially inside the Clan.β He confessed, a certain cat playing around in his thoughts.
"Honestly, after I got picked on for my err...less then tom like looks by some cats my age growing up I had just assumed that everyone else did the same even if they didn't say it openly.β Silverburr admitted. Birchspotsβs eyes widened slightly. βOf course not!β He burst out. βI mean, itβd be silly for a cat like me to look down on anyone for not matching the preconceived notion of a βtomβ.β He continued less brashly. βMy mentor, Tawnybellyβ¦ I donβt know if you remember him. He always went on about how LightningClan was getting softer and softer all the time. He wanted me to be his little prodigy.β He flicked his tail. βHe saw a little nervous kit like me, the exact opposite of what he thought a tom should be, and he thought if he could prove he could mould me into a stronger warrior then it meant his philosophy was worth something.β He shook his head. βBut thereβs no βrightβ way to be a tom, a she-cat, or whatever. Thatβs hare-brained.β He looked closely at Silverburr. βItβs like saying that RainClan cats arenβt real cats because they love water.β He dipped his head. βYou and me, weβre toms. We donβt have to be big and burly to prove that.β He nudged him. It wasβ¦ funny. Birchspots was mostly saying this for Silverburrβs benefit, butβ¦ as the words poured out of his mouth, he slowly started to believe them. That Tawnybelly was wrong. That he didnβt need to be any one cat that other cats told him he had to be. He just had to be Birchspots, and maybe that was just fine. Warrior of LightningClan
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