| We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Apr 29, 2020 20:18:37 GMT -5
[googlefont=Chathura] echo in storm-dark sky Heights never bothered him, not like they did some other cats. Echo in Storm-Dark Sky had seen some of his tribe-mates tremble as they walked along the Cliff Path or leapt from ledge to ledge at Jumping Ridge, watched as they avoided peering over the edge of the ridges to see the steep slopes below, but in his own unwavering steadiness, he had never understood what they feared about the drop. There was always the risk of falling, he knew that, but never did the idea of such a possibility cause his legs to lock up and heart to start racing; it was dangerous, certainly, but only if one took a wrong step. All he had to do was not misstep. It was a simple solution to a problem that surely did not warrant such hesitation and quivering from some of his more timid tribe-mates. Right? But then, he wasn’t quite sure about many of these things.
He spent all day around them, yet cats remained as mysterious as ever.
As he cleared the final leap and began to walk up the path toward the Misty Ledge, he wondered if Rose was scared of heights. Probably not. She seemed so strong and capable that he couldn’t imagine her trembling before anything. There was no way that his beautiful cave-guard would ever hesitate to walk along steep cliffs or jump across deep chasms. It was one of the many things that drew him toward her. His mind began to wander down familiar paths as black paws stepped carefully along a similarly well-worn track. He could see in his mind’s eye the way her yellow-green eyes contrasted so beautifully with her pristine ginger pelt, heard her sweet melodic voice in his head, and he could feel his heart start to pound a little faster. Rose, his beautiful flower, did what heights could not. He loved her so much, and he couldn’t wait to make her his.
With his thoughts for company, the dark-furred tom strode toward the very edge of the Misty Ledge and cast a pale green gaze across the valley below him. ”Wow,” He marveled. ”Look at that view.” On clear days such as this one, the stunning scene never disappointed, and today was the perfect day to be up here. The mid-day sun had burned through the early morning fog, leaving behind a clear tableau of swaths of forests and rivers and moorlands. Unlike many of his tribe-mates, he had never ventured down into the clan’s territory himself, though the company of RainClan and the TreeClan cat a few seasons ago had been met with interest. They were strange cats with strange names and strange ways; he couldn’t imagine what hunting amongst all those trees must be like.
He thought of sitting up here when the sun set, pictured how the sky would turn red and orange before giving way to the dark of night. It would be an incredible sight – absolutely beautiful. Maybe he could even have someone here with him to see it. His mind strayed once more to the gorgeous she-cat who often roamed through his thoughts. His Rose, his beautiful Rose, lovelier than even the sunset would be. Wouldn’t it be nice if she were there beside him? Yes, that would be very nice, and it would probably make her happy too; Echo remembered someone had told him once that she-cats liked beautiful things. And if he made her happy enough, she might even love him back. Maybe he should ask her sometime…
The sound of a rock skidding down a slope had him turning in surprise. He wasn’t alone – for a moment, his heart began to pound again: what if Rose had followed him? No, she was a cave-guard, not a prey hunter; she would have no reason to join him here. But what if, just maybe, she had anyway? Echo gave a few licks to his chest fur and a quick swipe of his paw across his head to flatten any out-of-place hair – just in case – before he called out, ”Hello?”
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Newleaf 19, VY 7 - A foggy morning gives way to a beautiful bright and sunny day with a slight breeze.
Prey-Hunter of the Tribe |
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2020 9:05:43 GMT -5
Flint from Jagged Peak.
It had a nice ring to it. It was a sharper name than his last, noble and pure, with a magnitude that weighed heavier than words. Flint had been tired of the soft life in the valley, where the world was warm and forgiving for most: where he had to protect the weak and manage those lesser than him. The mountains were a harsher life, and he held hope that his time there would strengthen his resolve. Perhaps it would harden his body and mind, though he withheld judgement: the cats here were soft too, despite their lifestyle, though maybe a bit humbler and easier to manage than the arrogant, hierarchical clans. Flint snorted softly, paws searching for a safe step as he maneuvered along the mountainside.
He relished in the freedoms in the mountains that he rarely saw in the valley, but there was a catch - life seemed rather repetitive and slow without a sense of adventure. Lucky for him, he was able to practice his tracking skills, and his target was well acclimated with the terrain.
Where are you off to, Echo? Flint thought, without much care for the answer.
The tall, lithe tom wandered a lot, but had no interest in returning to the clans. He was a loner at heart, ambition being the only thing driving him to accomplish. Conquering was what he had resorted to nowadays, and being a Prey Hunter had satisfied his desires of travel and success. Well, most of his desires at least.
It was great fun picking at the minds of Tribe cats. He had taken to manipulation and tact in the time he had been there, though very few trusted him completely. Flint had been mysterious from the start, detached, sleeping far away from the other Tribe cats. He was a machine, providing for others in exchange for a place to stay, though there was no traditional code here. The mountains were wild. It made a fire spark in Flint’s loins, being so close to tumulting down a hill to his death.
Danger made him feel alive. Adrenaline gave his life an unforgettable, addictive spike, something to feel other than emptiness and abandon.
Though it wasn’t grief that stayed his compassion like so many assumed, at home and abroad. Mothflight’s death was freedom. Freedom from the responsibility of a father from the age of a kit. Let Dustclaw carry the blame of their brother’s death, for it was his cowardice that had left their freespirited kin to his untimely demise.
A gift disguised in tragedy, so it seemed.
The tall, black tom’s gaze was calculating, following Echo’s pawsteps from a distance. It was wise to learn the safest paths despite his absence of caution. He was not rash. He was not impulsive. Everything he did was for a reason, and if there was one thing he did know, it was that he didn’t know everything. Intelligence was power. He would learn from behind his stoic mask, drinking in perspective, experience, and fact like a tick.
Flint watched Echo admire the view from the shadows, and after a few painfully long moments, he kicked a rock. Might as well act like he was making a rookie mistake. Rather that than be creepy, the tom assumed.
“That’s a long drop, no matter how agile you are.” Flint scoffed quietly, making his way down to Echo in character, occasionally kicking a pebble for believability. Being amiable was what they wanted. It was what everyone wanted. They didn’t need to know he was thinking how easy it would be to push the other tom off and not receive punishment for it. To charge into the cavern breathless and panicky, explaining Echo’s demise. Though murder was not to be taken lightly. Not to mention that he didn’t have any qualms with Echo. In fact, the tom reminded him of a mixture between his two brothers.
Flint’s stomach clenched with disgust. He turned to the other tom with an empty, unassuming look.
“Though heights don’t seem to bother you.”
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Post by Fawn on May 4, 2020 11:42:17 GMT -5
Strut of Ring-Necked ROOSTER 27 Moons Cave-Guard Tribe of Forgotten Waters "I don't like this guy," jade-green eyes were narrowed into scrutinizing slivers inside a wide, faintly-marked tabby face. "He looks... shady."
"Shady? You mean like a tree? I bet he'd look less shady if he stood outside more - OOOH did you mean shady like his fur? I'm pretty shady too then! HEY DO YOU WANT TO HEAR SOMETHING FUNNY?"
Song didn't understand. She understood what shady meant (sort of? uhhhh) but she didn't understand his suspicions towards Flint. To her, he was just another new Tribemate to interact with and probably drive crazy. Rooster grunted a quick 'sure, Song', tuning out the barrage of words from his littermate as his eyes tracked the sleekly built prey-hunter currently exiting the cavemouth.
The Tribe of Endless Hunting blessed him with a swiftly distracted Song, who squealed in delight and scampered away to verbally assault another favorite Tribemate besides him. Thanks, Mom. He sent a silent prayer to Light of Rising Sun, forced to swallow dryly as her memory brought a lump in the back of his throat. Rooster shook it off. He had a job to do, and that job was to ensure the Tribe was safe, no matter what. He would protect it against any predator - even if that predator was a greedy freeloader like Flint.
Yeah yeah yeah, Flint hunted like the rest. But he was a StoneClan cat. Obviously the Tribe was a better place to live, and the Valley cats always seemed to be having problems (they bickered like a nest full of starlings!), but that didn't mean he wanted a bunch of them living here. They'd been through a lot, moving to the valley. It was peaceful, here. Rooster's claws scraped against the grit and stone as he tailed Flint, trying not to imagine what that peace disrupted would even look like.
Rooster had a lot of abilities, but stealth wasn't one of them. Fortunately, he knew it, and gave Flint a wide berth as he followed the lanky outsider over every boulder and scraggly looking hill. He's going to the Misty Ledge, Rooster realized. It obviously wasn't a good place for hunting. Then the scent of one of his Tribemates managed to leak through the strange Clan-but-not-Clan scent he associated with Flint.
Echo, another prey-hunter.
Suspicions increased, Rooster slunk along, trying to squeeze his considerable bulk behind a large rock and spy on the two from afar. What if they're planning something... ?
 Step back I'm goin' in
I'm crankin' up on the throttle
This is how legends are made |
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| Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on May 6, 2020 11:13:08 GMT -5
Song Of Shadowed Stream The black and white Prey Hunter padded along next to her much larger litter-mate, green eyes stretched nearly as wide as her carefree smile. When Rooster leaned into her to whisper something, she felt a small thrill of excitement, like she and her brother were on some secret mission. Pivoting her ear to better listen to him, Song nodded her head enthusiastically at every word until she realized it was now her turn to speak. With an excited flail of her tail, Song did her best to quiet her gasp before she let the words on her tongue explode from her jaws in a series of jumbled sentences."Shady? You mean like a tree? I bet he'd look less shady if he stood outside more - OOOH did you mean shady like his fur? I'm pretty shady too then! HEY DO YOU WANT TO HEAR SOMETHING FUNNY?" Her sudden distraction was accompanied by a little hop that sent a pebble scattering away from her paws. Her pupils immediately contracted at the motion, watching the small stone as it zipped away from her. Oh how she wanted to chase it, but her tongue wasn't quite finished yet."This morning, I was bringing a piece of prey to Nestie Bestie, and I SWEAR I didn't mean to but the vole tail tickled my nose, and I SNEEZED. But the funniest and worst but still definitely the funniest part? I accidentally THREW the vole in the process. And it WHAPPED Nice Ice directly in the face. Like WHAP!" With the sound she did a peculiar pivot, leaping in the air and managing to do a full three-sixty before landing on her small paws once more. Slitted pupils desperately searched out the location of that pebble she'd been eyeing before, even as her story continue."I don't think he liked that very much, nope nope nope! Nest-Nest made me apologize SO many times. I couldn't stop laughing! I know Mamma wouldn't have liked that very much, but ROO-ROO the sound was priceless, and I-" Inhaling loudly as she'd forgotten to breathe through much of that, Song's body dropped involuntarily into a crouch. Leaping far higher than one might think possible for her small form, the patched ebony and ivory she-cat ducked and rolled out of her crouch, that pebble flailing between her batting paws as she giggled blissfully. Rolling over twice she peered up at another member of their little group."Moo-Mooooo." She half-whined, half gasped in awe. Still lying on the ground, she swatted at the smaller she-cat's forepaw before revealing her treasure. "Look! It's so sparkly. It shines like the moon in the sky, like you among the grey stonesss." Her eyes were transfixed by the glinting white and grey rock for several moments, before being wrenched from her trance by a shiver. "Oohoohoo! Cold!" Leaping onto her paws again, she gave a little surprised sound before ducking and bepping the white Prey Hunter on the ear. "Heehee! Hi! Love you! Bye!"Another pirouetting bound whirled her in another direction, where she noticed Rooster ducked behind a rock. Stalking forward on surprisingly silent paws despite her loud personality, she crept forward until the leap distance was perfect. The action was finished before anyone could think of breathing, the lithe framed ball of pure energy flopping haphazardly on top of Rooster so she could rest her head on top of his and see exactly what he was looking at. "Roosey-Goosey-Loosey-Moosey!" She hissed in what could only be described as a stage whisper. "What are we doing?" |
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| "If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
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GaleClan Leader
GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on May 27, 2020 3:58:56 GMT -5
Full Moon on Still Water Tribe of Forgotten Waters Wide blue pools flickered with excitement and delight as the tiny prey-hunter slipped her way from the nook that could only be described as the nesting area of each gifted hunter within the Tribe. The little white ball of fluffy was pleased as she spotted both Rooster and Song, their voices rousing her from her wandering through and adding feathers to the bedding of her favorite tribemates.
"Song!" Her high pitched voice squeaked as she bounded forwards, those tiny paws of hers hardly making any noise despite the echo ability of the cave they were currently safe within. The black and white she-cat had been one of several that little alabaster feline had nursed along side, had grown up with during the length of their young moons.
The two could make quit the pairing: Song with her unpredictable and wild uniqueness that would stand any weathering with Moon and her lion-sized attitude and brilliant innocence that couldn't be shattered.
Moon was unable to keep the excited bounce from her step, her tiny fluffy figure like a bumbling cloud as she happily pranced up to where Song wriggled about per normal. A smile broke across the pale maw of the young she-cat, fluffy tail wavering behind her as she bent her neck to eye the pebble uncovered from black and white paws. She was always pleased to see what kind of treasures and goodies Song found and happily showed off.
"It's so pretty!" She squealed happily, pale blue eyes twinkling nearly as brightly as her namesake against the brilliant white background of her alabaster face.
As if a squirrel had suddenly darted from stone to stone within the cat crowded cave, Moon's attention was quickly split from the she-cat she had been raised along side. Her ear flickered as she half-listened to whatever Song rambled as Moon's thoughts wandered to the possibility of where Hound was.
The big, black tomcat was such a brooding and lonerish type but the tiny prey-hunter honestly enjoyed being around the ominous cave-guard. There was a hidden kindness within his sorrowful and guarded gaze. Moon would have easily called out to him in that high pitched tone of hers, offering for him to join in the fun she and Song were having.
A squeak broke her train of thought, once again pulling the easily distracted she-cat from her quickly fleeting thoughts about Hound as she was once again focused on the duel colored prey-hunter. Her ear shifting from the small bop from Song before she darted off after wherever her brother, Rooster has snuck off too.
"Hey! Wait for me!" Moon cried playfully, her fluffy tail wavering around behind her as the limb curled over her back. With a small bounce upon her tiny paws, the fluffy cloud of a she-cat quickly darted off through the entrance of the Tribe's homely cave and after the fresh scents of several different cats, though she was particularly following those of the two cats she had nursed alongside during their beginning moons.
Those little, nimble paws of the runtish feline made it easily for her to scale through the pathways of the mountainside as she quickly made her way after the others. Moon managed to keep the tip of Song's tail within her sights despite the headstart the other she-cat had.
Bright blue eyes widened even more as she happily made her way to where Song plopped down onto of her brother, though that wasn't a rare occurrence. A purr of amusement rumbled within the throat of Moon, practically vibrating the tiny thing as she trotted up to where brother and sister were crouched all sneaky like behind some boulders near the height of the Misty Ledge.
The alabaster feline had only been up there a pawful of times, but only during days with clear weather as the tippy top of the wide, flat ledge could be dangerous with it's normal haze of low lying clouds. She liked to sit there and watch the valley below, it made her feel like a giant cat that could just reach out and scoop up those who lived among the clans.
Not that she didn't already believe she was a giant cat, and no-one could tell the tiny thing any differently.
"Rooster!" Moon called out in a purring tone, tail wavering behind her as she bounded forwards to softly nudge Song who happily squished him against the ground. "Tag Song!" She reached out with a tiny, white paw to softly pat at the other prey-hunter's ear as she had done to Moon before darting from the cave earlier.
"Why are we hiding?" The next question came with that signature head tilt she often did when confused about certain things. Similar to how she had done when Hound told her she shouldn't be hanging around him. Whatever that meant, though it wasn't like she listened to his silliness.
Lifting up on her tippy toes, as far as the tiny she-cat could stretch herself, Moon tried to see who Rooster could possibly be spying on but all the white feline could catch was bits of fur color and paws. Nothing good enough to capture who was relaxing upon the Misty Ledge. So, with her rather outgoing and fearless personality, Moon quickly lept to the ledge with some grace.
"Oh! Hello Echo! Hello Flint!"
Stay Wild, Moon Child |
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| We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jul 25, 2020 15:33:31 GMT -5
[googlefont=Chathura] echo in storm-dark sky It wasn’t Rose.
The observation wasn’t a startling one. The Tribe was home to far more cats than the she-cat who so frequently held his attention, so truly, the likelihood of meeting her all the way out here was slim, he reasoned with himself. But still – still, it would’ve been nice.
Flat eyes watched as Flint approached him, and Echo noted that his long limbs moved with a relaxed ease that was contrary to the words coming from his mouth. Cats were duplicitous like that, saying one thing but never letting that smile reach their eyes or glancing down at that long drop as much as they should, and this tendency to hide their true feelings made it all the harder for him to try to understand them. He could – and did – mimic them all he wanted, but when interactions deviated from the set patterns that he had learned, it would all make so much more sense if he could figure out why they did what they did. Everyone seemed to feel so much, yet even as emotion made some of their actions predictable, it rendered so many more entirely incomprehensible.
Take fear of heights, for example. Echo watched as the pebble skittered in his direction, dancing close to the side of the ledge, and wondered if it would go over. It settled beside him instead. His paw twitched ever so slightly. In these mountains, one did not make it very far in nursing a fear of heights, but that apparently did not stop some from trying all the same. Why someone would choose to fear that which was all around them, he did not know, but he suspected that despite his warning, the tall black cat did not seem to be among their number. Well, neither was Echo.
“No, not really,” The gray tom agreed mildly - he was indeed unbothered by heights - and kept his eyes on the pebble. Finally, he pushed it with his paw, and it clattered over the edge of the drop. Pale green eyes watched it fall until it was swallowed by the mountain slopes below. His voice became matter-of-fact. “All you have to do is not fall over the side, right?” Echo looked back at Flint, lips quirked upward in a small smile – in conversations where the subject matter could be unsettling, cats found it reassuring when others smiled at them – that never reached his eyes. Nothing ever reached his eyes, though he never realized it. Turning those empty green eyes back to the view before him, the prey hunter asked politely, “Are you here to admire the view too? It’s especially beautiful today.” He should see if Rose would want to come up here with him sometime; he really did think she would like the view too.
The sound of a commotion behind him had Echo turning back around to see Rooster crouching low, partially hidden behind a big rock with Song’s distinctive white and black face resting on top of his striped forehead. Echo blinked, staring. Was this a new patrol tactic he had missed? What good was one cat directly on top of another? If the set of his proud features was anything to go by, the stocky cave-guard looked distinctly unamused by the entire situation, but his sister’s eyes were as wide as those of a kit who had just taken her first steps out of the safety of the cave. As he watched, a third feline materialized from behind the rock, the top half of her head barely visible beside the other two cats. In a flash, it disappeared, and her tiny figure, covered in long fur as pale as her namesake, joined them on the ledge.
“Hey Moon,” Echo returned the greeting pleasantly, waving his tail at her and then at her two companions further back. He raised his voice so it would carry across the distance. “Hi Rooster and Song.” His party of one had suddenly grown to a group of five, but while he didn’t mind the company, there was a small part of him wishing that a different she-cat had been among those who had found him up here. A pause. Now that he thought about it, it was a little strange, the way they had all converged upon him. Had they been looking for him? Prey hunters technically weren’t supposed to go off on their own, but Echo had a tendency to disregard that particular rule. (He would disregard more rules if they were as inconvenient as that one – sometimes it was nice to get away from the others and be by himself for a bit.) Well, if they wanted to find him, they had succeeded, though he wondered why they felt the need to send three prey hunters and a cave guard to do the job one cat could accomplish on his own. “Why’re you all here? Did something happen?”
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Newleaf 19, VY 7 - A foggy morning gives way to a beautiful bright and sunny day with a slight breeze.
Prey-Hunter of the Tribe |
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