[Deleted]

BELIEVE IN STRENGTH

Pumafang

TREECLAN - WARRIOR - 45 MOONS

Was he relieved that the war was over?

Financially, yes. It was a toll, losing some of TreeClan’s capable workforce while the elders, queens, and kits remained feeding off of the clan strongly, but knowing that a deal had been struck softened the NightClan border from both sides. Most of the clan was happy, though Pumafang found the last few days rather droll. The life-blood of his existence pulsed from the beating heart of conflict, and without problem or progress, Pumafang found little enjoyment day to day. How little it showed when it was there at least.

Jealousy had begun to grow for Timberfrost’s company in the absence of interest, and although the emptiness behind those amber eyes of his didn’t waver, his heart still tightened when she took the company of another.

“I am going for a walk.” He notioned lifelessly to the camp guard, his massive, dark form slipping from the shadows of the fallen, hollow tree his clan called home. Though now, the entire clan’s minds and memories were tainted with NightClan’s intrusion.

Images of their enemies’ wrath rushed behind his eyes, making Pumafang’s heart pound. Not with fear, but with lust. They were lucky we were starting on the downside. TreeClan’s deputy thought, lumbering gait leading him to his peaceful place. StarClan’s Claws. Not for prayer, but to bask in the cold, sharp shadows of night. One of the most magnificent places in the valley, a place where he could hide from the light of night and still retain his stoic, reputable character in the eyes of the clans.

A shame we couldn’t have fought on equal grounds, but it was to be expected. Pumafang mused, thick tail curling around the trunk of a tree while he paused, the sound of rustling making his ears prick forward lazily. He breathed in. The scents of the forest calmed him, and his paws carried him onward indifferently.

He tried to hide his possessiveness over Timberfrost, but no matter how much he stowed it away, it always crept up and invaded his conscience, his peace. The soft chirping of crickets and peepers. The crisp night air. The soft breeze. The scent of undergrowth and trees.

None of it was enough.

He attempted indifference towards Timberfrost. Pumafang had tried to suffocate that childish, giddy warmth she sparked in his void, but he was addicted to her cool, icy gaze. Her massive, tabby form that rivaled his own in size made him ache inside and out.

He didn’t quite remember exactly how he arrived at StarClan’s Claws, but he could recognize their jagged peaks anywhere. Pumafang scoffed, the first time he had ever addressed StarClan directly. They were granted an icy rumble, filled with the enmity Pumafang harbored for fate.

“Why idle in the companies of lesser men?”

Perhaps he was asking StarClan for an answer. Or perhaps he was asking himself.

Word Count: 504
Tags:
Notes: xxx

[Ghost the Undead Goddess]

Timberfrost

The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder

And so, it had ended. 

The war between the two clans had boiled over to point where it had been brought into the heart of Treeclan's territory. Their safety had been compromised and their home, their camp, tousled and stripped bare. In short, they had been caught with their noses under their tails, sleeping peacefully as Nightclan slipped in like the shadows they lived. 

Despite the ambush in the middle of the night, each warrior and apprentice of fighting age managed to push back Darkstar and her intruding troupe of toad-breathed, fox-hearted followers. Though, not all of them managed to escape the claws of the forest upon their retreat, as several injured felines were left in capture.

One even remained still, lifeless as his body grew cold with lack of blood pooling around his body. 

It had been the deputy's kill, Deerleap choosing the wrong cat to attack as Pumafang quickly ended the annoyance of the unwelcomed Nightclanner. The massive tabby herself had been locked into a heated battle with Foxfire on her side, their claws scoring marks and blocking strikes that came from Nightclan's own massive black demon: Blackstag.

Upon the return of the few Nightclanners, who stiffly found themselves trapped within the unknown walls of Treeclan's camp, a peaceful option had been found between both leaders. Though, Timberfrost highly doubted that it would last for very long. Both clans were volatile, hostile even towards each other, and with all the pride and pent up frustrations within both clan's warriors... well, war was always something that seemed to return to the woodlands of the valley. History showed it, and the future awaited it.

She, herself, was not completely satisfied with the end of the conflict. While Timberfrost wanted peace and protection for her clan more than anything, there was that boiling within her blood that called for war. Almost like a yearning that she couldn't rid herself of. Battle was exhilarating, it was a drive that brought a rapid beat to the frosted heart within her chest cavity. She, like many other massive felines, were more inclined towards the danger and rise of fighting, the sharp scent of blood, the way it felt to slice claws through flesh in a victorious motion.

It was a side of her that the massive feline was easily able to hide away, burying it deep beneath her dark striped pelt. Though she kept it at bay, it was no secret that Timberfrost was a force to be reckoned with should her clanmates befall harm and danger. She lived her life as a soldier, a wall to keep those weaker safe behind her mass and muscles. She would do anything within her physical limits, within the ability that her body could hold up, to make sure she kept them protected.

Goldenflame's long rotten corpse was proof of that within the ground he lay forever.

Ear flickering to remove the thought of her golden pelted father from her mind, the massive tabby continued to pad silently through the star studded forest of Treeclan's territory. She was close to the border shared with Nightclan, as she didn't quite trust them to stick to the newest of laws laid between them by Darkstar and Lionstar. The cats that lived among the pines were as shady as their namesake, and they were usually active during the light of the moon while the other four clans slept soundly.

Massive paws led the frosty feline forwards through the small undergrowth, Newleaf still yet to rebuild it's greenery within the early moons of the season. She had no true destination in mind as she wandered, though she found that organ within her chest searching for the familiar comfort and bodily warmth of Pumafang. They had been mates for some time, though it wasn't like most who happily showed affection or publicly display such attachments. They were both stoic, mysterious warriors that kept to themselves but often spent time alone, out within the forest with each other.

Though, lately it had been less than normal. He was busy helping Lionstar rebuild their clan, he was deputy after all and had many duties relied of him. She was just a warrior, a soldier spending her time aiding her clan by watching the borders or bringing home prey to feed those unable to leave the safe walls of Treeclan's once hidden camp. There was a longing within the massive form of the tabby she-cat that she wasn't used to, as she had lived her live within many attachments, thanks to the mental troubles forced upon her young mind at a young age.

Once again though, the thoughts of Goldenflame were chased from the ice cavern of her mind at the familiar scent of Pumafang floated near her. He had been this way, and recently judging by the freshness of it. It wasn't uncommon that the massive deputy of Treeclan wandered the territory at night, similar to herself, Timberfrost often found a restlessness at night while trying to curl up and sleep. Many of their first encountered had happened because of the moonlit strolls, all of course were held at Starclan's Claws.

It seemed that tonight would be no different as Timberfrost followed his scent through the remainder of Treeclan's territory before it dropped away into shared and unclaimed lands. The closer she grew towards the spot that held each gathering the more she could catch the faint scents of Rainclan, Nightclan, Lightningclan and Stoneclan. It was almost like each smell was ingrained into the land here, as every full moon they all converged together, but Treeclan was the strongest at the moment. The opened area currently only occupied by the looming shape of dark fur before she stepped into the faint moonlight above, casting a silvery tone across the darkness of her own coat.

"Perhaps one day, they will answer." Timberfrost's rumble was cold as always, though it was a tone familiarized as her own. Though she harbored no ill will towards their currently figurehead, Lionstar was not much longer within the valley. As terrible as it sounded, it was merely the role of life to claim one who had wandered for so long. Age could not be stopped, and within time Pumafang would climb that ladder to earn a new name, and to live a new life. Though she was not ambitious herself, the chilly tempered she-cat would not waver from her mate's side.

This place held some significance for the two titan like felines, memories that were special only to them rather than those shared in a group of gathered valleycats. Timberfrost had once confronted her father's former apprentice, a warning upon her icy breath during that particular occurance. Though, more recently it had been the spot where their tension had been brought to a head, after moons of interaction they had sealed their relationship with the title of mates. Honestly, there was no other tom that could engage her mentally and physically the way Pumafang was able to.

Despite the lack of warmth within his massive form, he melted the frost around her heart.

"Anything I can help you with Pumafang?" Timberfrost continued as she made her way to his side, tail flickering behind her like a shadowed snake as those cool, cerulean hues never wavered from his stature. Though neither of them shared their burdens with others, it was different when it came to just the two of them, just he and just her. It was a very interesting, stoic but genuine relationship they had.

She Cat | 38 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior

1272 Words | @jet Fawn (Lionstar) | Image

[Deleted]

BELIEVE IN STRENGTH

Pumafang

TREECLAN - WARRIOR - 45 MOONS

Pumafang couldn’t hold back a weak purr, though it was quickly swallowed by emptiness.

Could she help?

“Yes,” The massive black Tom started, leaning closer to his mate. She could always help, and to some degree her presence was mere remedy. They couldn’t be tail-tied everywhere they went, but Pumafang craved nights like this. He wanted more of them. The two titans of TreeClan, alone. Her company aroused his spirit just as battle did, that lust wrenching him away from his common, stony grounds.



“Tell me,” Pumafang rasped. “Do you believe in StarClan?”

Who didn’t? In the clans, it was standard to support star-furred ancestors, though Pumafang did not believe their existence. The thought that the same cats now dead because of their mistakes maneuvering the living clans like pawns was far too disturbing for him to accept.
That did not rule out something similar to fate: destiny was a hoax, but unyielding perseverance against the droves of conflict a lifetime entailed was how he got to where he was today.

Almost on top. Pumafang almost visibly cringed, tail twitching slightly. His jaw clenched for a brief moment.

When he did become leader, there was still work to do. A clan of fools needed to be shaped from kithood naivety to seasoned and independent minds. StarClan had no place in the valley. Even if they did exist, they had their time and lost it. How, he did not care. It was likely fate, the power of the natural world, that put them in their place: away from the valley, banished from the earth they called home because they exercised themselves to the limit. Perhaps it had been an unfortunate accident that landed them there. Maybe they were elderly and it was their time. But many, Pumafang huffed softly, many he felt were their for a reason: because they failed themselves and their clan, throwing away their life because of poor choices.

And that was why he neglected StarClan. He neglected the religion so many flocked to like a gaggle of geese. They were no better than those living in the valley. In fact, Pumafang felt they were lower then even the smallest living kit in the clan: than even the most evil, foulest cats in the valley. The valley itself decided who lived and who died, Pumafang had no doubt in his mind. If only the clan could see it: could see that StarClan's guise of wisdom and supremacy was a pretense.

The odds were against him no doubt, but he was curious: how influential he could actually be to TreeClan as a whole?
To the valley as a whole?

Pumafang brushed away his distant dreams. Lionstar was still alive, but Pumafang did know one thing was for certain: he wouldn't be alive forever, and he, Pumafang, was where this line of unoriginal leaders would end. He wasn’t going to let the stars, let fate, cast him a direction he didn’t choose himself. He had been following orders his entire life, and as king, not a cat in the world could force him down. His pelt ruffled slightly, though a soft look at Timberfrost soothed the weak spark of temper.

His love for her wouldn't change, not over something he deemed so trivial, but he was curious.

After everything TreeClan has endured, could it really be possible that it all happened for a specific reason? No, but the valley did prune its trees in a particular pattern. There were too many possibilities, too many outcomes and opportunities for a living being to be smart enough to manage a universe of infinite potential. If there was a being, it certainly wasn’t one of their ancestors.
Though the world itself? The rocks, soil, trees, bushes, grass, mountains...

It’s all a joke. He thought, averting his mind from existential thought for one moment: for one deep breath.

Perhaps it was ignorance, but Pumafang felt like he had a choice. Did Timberfrost?

Word Count: 677
Tags:

Notes: xxx

[Ghost the Undead Goddess]

Timberfrost

The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder

The massive brown tabby cat stood there for a moment before lowering her haunches into a comfortable sitting position. Those icy cerulean hues held an unreadable expression as they slowly ran over the large form of her dark coated mate, almost as if she were observing or analysing what could possibly be hexing the deputy of Treeclan.

There was a single twitch of the molly's ear as she listened to the question that fell from Pumafang's jaws, his voice echoing within her head as she tilted it ever so slightly. 

Did she believe in Starclan? It was a question that had never really crossed her mind behind. Briarshade had never spoken much praise for their warrior's ancestors during their time together in the nursery, and Goldenflame only ever seemed to care about their long deceased relative who's very memory had basically driven the golden tabby to insanity. 

For her, it was almost difficult to say. Clan cats were generally raised to believe in Starclan, these felines with stars in their eyes and pelts that walked among the sky and spoke to leaders and healers. However, did they truly reside within the night sky known as Silverpelt? Did they move from behind the shadows to maneuver their clans? 

That part was almost unsettling, if Timberfrost had her own say in it. 

Parting her jaw, the massive she-cat let that chilly tone of her once again fill the silent void that had fallen between the two Titans of Treeclan. "I'm not sure." It was a short, simple reply as she continued to let her mind wander over the subject Pumafang had brought up. Her tail shifted, flickering behind her before letting it settle comfortably against the similar appendage of her black coated mate.

"I suppose I would truly have see them to actually believe they are real." Which, in all honesty, would probably never happen unless she climbed the hill to become leader. Though, with how she had been raised, the ideals of becoming the figurehead of Treeclan drilled into her head at a young age forced her large paws from that path long ago. She had no desire to lead, no desire to participate in clan politics and valley wide issues at such a level. Her duty as a soldier, a warrior to protect her clan didn't involve the rationalization of Starclan.

"Dead cats don't fight wars and they don't save lives." Timberfrost finally added, shifting her gaze to a softer ice for a moment as she watched Pumafang. She was rather satisfied with her answer towards his probing question. They often enjoyed picking each other's brains for information more in-depth and intense than normal chatter brain conversation. "Did I satisfy your curiosity on the subject?" Her chilly tone rumbled within her chest, almost as if it were the beginnings of a purr, though the noise had yet to make it's presence know.  

She Cat | 38 Moons | TreeClan | Warrior

499 Words | @jet | Image

[Deleted]

BELIEVE IN STRENGTH

Pumafang

TREECLAN - WARRIOR - 45 MOONS

Just as he thought. Timberfrost was a realist. His amber eyes bore into hers with lust, a wave of desired surging through him like a tidal wave. Though what he did not expect was what came next. A feeling that stifled his ache and impulse, burning dully through his body like hot coals after a fire. Was it anger? His whiskers flattened against his thick muzzle, and his small ears flicked backwards.

“Truly, there is some appeal?” Pumafang growled almost immediately after Timberfrost’s conclusion, a spark of curiosity on his tongue. “An afterlife, a guiding fate. The valley praises a sanctitude as if they alone, with their starry pelts and ghostly voices, could change the course of the world.”

He had a right to be unenthusiastic. The thought of leading TreeClan felt less enticing by the moment, though their lack of intelligence made his powerful urge to oppress them and conform them to reality even stronger. In a way it felt like mentorship all over again, and the thought of being an icon for those more naive than he? It was an opportunity to make a big change. A good change. To make them better, and shape them into the best version of themselves: the most independent and sustainable version of themselves.

He consistently made very capable warriors. He just wished he could have made more.

Though he felt like the prospect of rescuing TreeClan from their false faith bruised his reputation slightly. A cat who stood for sustainability, now building onto a house with a rotten foundation? Pumafang dipped his head in thought. No, not renovating. Demolishing, then rebuilding. His lips creased slightly with a dark smile.

It would be quite a feat.

Pumafang felt obligated to change it, to prove to his clanmates the invalidity of their beliefs. To uncover the guise of StarClan, and reveal the rubbish they took to heart and mind. He felt the valley whisper encouragement. Pumafang cleared his throat.

Challenge accepted.

Timberfrost had unintentionally pricked him like a bramble bush, insecurities about his leadership dripping from his maw like poisoned honey.

“How impressionable do you think a leader could be?” The massive, black shadow’s deep voice was rarely tainted with question, though Timberfrost was his most cherished confidant. A consultant with value beyond measure. His thick tail twitched. “More influential than religion?”

Part of him wanted to let it last. Let them take it to the grave.
Part of him wanted to cut the head off the snake.

Either way, the valley would be changed.
It was what was best for TreeClan. For all the clans.

Word Count: 451
Tags: Ghost the Undead Goddess
Notes: xxx