"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 2, 2020 3:22:50 GMT -5
She hated being outside of the safety of Rainclan's camp.
Shivers constantly ran up and down the growing she-cat's spine in a rather uncomfortable way as she stuck rather close to the similarly colored tomcat she had practically attached herself too only moments prior. The young ginger and white molly had been actively avoiding the fierce blue gaze of her uniquely colored mentor, Waterstep. There was no doubt in the apprentice's mind that the older she-cat had some horrible training planned out that involved something with the water. Like throwing her in the river as if she were a dried out trout.
The thought practically had a wail of contempt rising within her throat, though she stopped herself before it happened. In all honesty, the rather dry footed Rainclanner would have prefered to be shadowed within the safe side of her father, Russethawk. She could usually get away with anything once his attention was solely focused on her and nothing else within the clan. That didn't seem to ever happen with Waterstep and Rosepaw was oh-so tired of being wet all the time. She didn't know how the other cats could stand it, all it made hr do was relieve the terrifying experience of the flood when she had been but three moons old.
All she wanted to do was stay inside the reed walls of the camp where she was protected from everything dangerous within their territory and beyond within the valley. She could care less about romping around hunting small creatures or patrolling the borders to make sure their neighbors stayed over there. Once she gained her full name, Rosepaw would happily allow all the other strong and capable warriors do as they pleased, she'd take up residence within the Nursery once more. She could practically smell the milk-warm den calling to her now as she padded alongside Silentcreek.
She hardly dare move from his side giving him very little walking room.
He had just recently become a warrior, so it wasn't a problem for Rosepaw to be out with him as she successfully avoided Waterstep and her water-ready paws. Rosepaw didn't mind being around the near-mute tomcat who had been born outside the clans, though in all honesty that wasn't something she often thought about. The only reason she knew was because Russethawk told her about how he had found the quiet ginger and white tom out in Rainclan's territory. The young she-cat had never been one for actual borders, why she even crushed on some lanky silver tomcat from Treeclan not that long ago when she attended a gathering.
It had been absolutely terrifying to be so far away from home.
A shiver ran through Rosepaw as she bounced over a fallen limb before once again practically latching herself onto Silentcreek's flank. "Hey... Silentcreek, I know you were planning on doing some hunting..." She couldn't help as her high pitched voice grew quiet as she attempted her words. "Could... we avoid the water?" Rainclan cats were often known for their fishing abilities, but with her intense fear of the water Rosepaw would more than readily attempt land hunting rather than getting her paws wet in the rushing river. Her heart was already starting to race within her chest at just the thought. Rosepaw of RainClan Stickin' little white flowers all up in her hair ❀
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"Monster is a relative term. To a canary, a cat is a monster. We're just used to being the cat." |
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Staff GorgeClan Leader MistClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Abyss on May 2, 2020 22:15:10 GMT -5
Silentcreek rainclan Tom Warrior As much as he adored the company of others and the feeling of another’s fur touching his own, as of lately, the orange and white tabby didn’t often find himself that close to his clanmates. During patrols or hunting parties, there was no need to be in close contact with your companions.
Though, in the current situation, he found that this surprisingly wasn’t true. He was, in fact, out hunting with another feline. But he found that rather than feeling the cool breeze of Newleaf or any lack of warmth, his left side was occupied by the long and soft fur of another, this side of him warmer than the other.
It seemed as of late he was coming in contact with this young she-cat quite often. After their first interactions together, a very brief and very unexpected round of “battle training”, though no battle ever actually happened, he seemed to find himself in her company more often. That day that he had been summoned by Skychaser during his late Apprenticeship, this had been his first time really spending time with the likes of her.
Rosepaw, a very pretty ginger and white tabby she-cat, similar to himself, though with longer fur and much more feminine features. While quite nice in appearance, no one could deny that she was quite...dramatic. And emotional. And spoiled. Even Silentcreek, a cat who was never one to judge the personalities of another, was able to see this. In the eyes of most, these traits were things to look down on, or just ignore, for they were pointless and only caused problems.
Luckily for the young and entitled Apprentice, he was not one of those cats. He understood where she came from, in a way, and why she acted the way she did. To start, she never wanted to leave camp, which could be accounted to the doting she always received from her father. While he hadn’t really seen it himself, he had been told about it before, and it made sense. A father being over-protective of his only daughter was apparently common, as he discovered, and could cause the she-cats to end up this way. Silentcreek couldn’t blame her spoiled nature on her, for it was her father who was at fault. Granted, he had a lot of respect for Russethawk and would never openly say or think these things, but it was true.
Something else that the recently promoted Warrior had learned was that she had a hatred and deep fear of water. Personally, he didn’t understand why, though he was also one of the many cats who adored water and was a talented swimmer. Even though Rainclan was entirely based around water, not all cats had the ability to swim or found joy from feeling water sliding over their pelt and through their fur. If she didn’t like water and didn’t want to learn to swim, that was her choice. He wasn’t going to look down upon her for it.
Many times the ginger and white tom felt his companion bump against his side in every attempt to stay as close to him as she possibly could. He knew of her fear of water and he knew of her dislike for being outside of camp, but he didn’t know why the close quarters were necessary. He couldn’t say he minded, for he was perfectly fine with her being as close as she was, even though he found himself having to constantly avoid stepping on her paws.
There was only a moment when he found the brush of her golden pelt missing from his flank, but it very quickly returned after she had lightly jumped over a fallen branch. At the contact of their shoulders and the sound of her voice, the tom’s gaze turned and his pace slowed to listen. His ears twitched as she spoke, her openly high pitched and slightly nervous voice requesting that they avoid fishing and keep to the land. Deep blue eyes blinked a few times, but a smile formed on his face.
“Okay.” Per usual, he spoke so little, yet that one word still held an air of kindness. His gaze turned back ahead of him, eyes spotting one of the rivers off in the distance, but making it a point, sadly, to steer his direction away from it. Instead, he found them heading in the general direction of the Willow Stream, though they wouldn’t go that far.
Their walking came to an end as a scent flicked across his tongue, bringing his steps to a halt. His head and ears slowly turned in either direction, gaze narrowing in on their surroundings in search of any movement. His ears perked and rotated slightly to the right of him, as did his gaze, and he spotted it. Just a small flicker of movement in the brush, but that was enough.
Deep blue eyes glanced to the side, peeking over at his ginger-furred companion. “Wait.” His singular word command, though a command, was not harsh or strict or really even meaningful. He did wish for her to wait for a few moments, but if she did not, there wasn’t much he could do.
His head turned once more along with his body, his paws taking slow and deliberate steps towards where he had seen the movement. The scent he had caught began to grow steadily stronger the closer he got and the lower his body fell to the ground. With his sight locked in, the mouse slowly came into his field of vision, its tiny mouth chewing on the blades of grass at its paws. By the time he was within pouncing distance, his stomach and chest were practically flat against the ground beneath him. But he waited.
It wasn’t until the mouse turned its head in the opposite direction that his back legs shot him forward, sliding quickly through the brush and right on top of the rodent. There was a very quick and tiny squeak, but it cut off thankfully quickly.
WIth the warm and now lifeless body in his jaws, the tabby tom turned and gently trotted back towards his hunting partner, dropping the mouse at her paws. His head lightly tilted as his gaze met her’s.
“Can catch something, give to Russet, make him proud?” It may not have made complete sense, but it was meant to be more of an encouragement for her to do some hunting as well, even though she was nervous. Perhaps the thought of bringing home a fresh piece of prey that she had caught herself would bring a smile to her doting father’s face, bringing a smile to her’s as well.
1113 | Ghost the Undead Goddess
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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 Jul 8, 2020 2:42:12 GMT -5
The young she-cat was honestly not prepared for when her companion shot off through the reeds like a squirrel dashing through the leave tipped tree branches. Her whole body froze, stiffening as if it were possibly the best solution for her in any situation, though logically the last thing a feline should ever do was become practically petrified in place. Even the soft fur on her shoulders slightly raised as those wide teal pools of hers watched Silentcreek's ginger and white form through the tall grasses around them.
Upon his return, mouse in jaws, the young molly found her body melting from it's frozen stature though her heart continued to hammer within her chest like a tiny hummingbird frantically beating it's wings. There was a slight twinge within the fluffier of the two Rainclanners, the sight of the freshly dead rodent within her clanmate's jaws somewhat unsettling. Prey didn't normally bother her, in fact some of her favorite feasts were fish and water voles... but there was something about the active act of hunting and killing them that didn't quite settle correctly.
The tip of the apprentice's plume tail twitched ever so slightly as Silentcreek spoke in that broken yet gentle meow of his. Despite his near mute nature, and the odd way he spoke, Rosepaw had honestly never had any problem understanding or communicating with them tom of a similar pelt color. At words, however, there was a silent battle wriggling it's way through the rather dramatic molly's chest. One of which she both wanted to do something to please and excite her father but also not wanting to actually end the life of some creature rustling around within the reeds and weeds. Being an apprentice was so hard sometimes, and Rosepaw couldn't begin to count the times she wanted nothing more than to just weasel her way back into the safety and warmth of the Nursery.
She did have Silentcreek avoid the water, the least she could do was try to hunt some of the land prey possibly sneaking around after he quickly killed his freshly caught prey...
A small sigh of nervousness broke past her muzzle as Rosepaw gave a small nod, "O-okay..." Her voice was soft and quiet, as it always was when she was away from the safety of Rainclan's reed surrounded camp. Being out and about on the territory always caused her anxiety to raise, the possibility of danger in every direction constantly berating her mind. She still had terrible night dreams from time to time about the flooding that transpired within her home during her kithood moons ago, a scarring event that not only left her shivering but also her brother Sablepaw. It was something that shared, a commonality including the intimidating fear of the rushing river and it's cold waters.
Padding forwards on soft paws, Rosepaw slowly lowered herself into a hunting crouch that she learned during one of her dreaded training sessions with her mentor, Waterstep. Just because she didn't really want to learn to be a fighter, rough warrior didn't mean that she didn't do as she was told. Not to mention she feared the idea of her uniquely coated mentor tossing her into the chilling claws of the water that surrounded their territory.
Watery teal pools shifted back and forth between the shadows and gently swaying reeds as the breeze touched them with each passing wave. Soft movements led the young molly forwards as she attempted to blend in with her surroundings, though she honestly felt as out of place as a fish flopping about the hard ground rather than it's natural home of streams and rivers. Trying to calm her fluttering heart, Rosepaw took a small breath and held it as her liquid gaze spotted the familiar shape of a gray mouse cleaning it's face with tiny paws.
Attempting to keep her weight evenly distributed and her paws from stepping on anything, the ginger and white she-cat shifted forwards with slow and soft movements. She was, at times, very similarly delicate to that of her namesake. Rosepaw's fluffy tail twitched behind her, slowly trailing over the pebbly ground underpaw as she edged closer while simultaneously trying to keep herself tiny looking as well as keeping her belly from dragging the ground. Hunting could be such hard work and honestly, the young molly wasn't even sure if she was doing all of this correctly but before she had time to second guess herself something snapped beneath her steps.
She froze. So did the mouse, that turned it's beady little eyes to where the ginger and white she-cat crouched stiff in fear as if the tiny creature was going to turn and hunt her instead. Liquid teal pools widened as the creature turned and quickly darted off unknowingly towards where Silentcreek was waiting just beyond the curve of tall reeds where she had left him before crawling in search of fresh prey. "No!" Her voice was soft and shaky almost as she attempted to move her body to chase after the tiny thing, though it took a moment for her paws to actually listen as she clumsily sipped through the terrain.
Rosepaw of RainClan Stickin' little white flowers all up in her hair ❀
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"Monster is a relative term. To a canary, a cat is a monster. We're just used to being the cat." |
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Staff GorgeClan Leader MistClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Abyss on Jul 16, 2020 11:22:09 GMT -5
Silentcreek rainclan Tom Warrior A bright smile curved at the tom’s jaws when the she-cat agreed to his idea. It seemed like it worked! He watched with this same smile as she slowly and reluctantly began her own hunt. Watching after her, Silentcreek found himself surprised. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected her to actually know how to hunt fully, or at least wouldn’t know much about hunting poses. She was never one for training or hunting or fighting...or really anything most Warriors did. He wasn’t sure how she was when she was with Waterstep, minus those one or two times that he had trained with her. But those were also with Skychaser at the calico’s side. Was the Warrioress more strict when not around others? He wasn’t sure.
As the ginger tabby disappeared in the reeds, he did find himself grow slightly concerned. Should he help her? Should he let her do it herself? Would she actually be ok being on her own? Though these questions were on his mind, he was never one for anxiety like his companion. He wanted to believe in her. So, he remained where he was, taking a seat with his caught mouse at his paws.
While he waited, he glanced around him at the surroundings. His eyes very quickly met the river of water in the distance. Oh how he wanted to swim. So badly. Leafbare was no time for being within water, especially the more harsh currents of the rivers. He had been unable to swim all season, both throughout Leafbare and through at least a half of Newleaf. He didn’t mind cold water, but he tried to at least somewhat avoid it when possible. It wouldn’t be the best of ideas for him to get found frozen solid by a clanmate.
Momentarily, he thought back to when he had first arrived to Rainclan. He had been just a kit then, only a couple moons old. A fearless little bundle who didn’t fear any water, cold or not. He remembered walking right in to the river by the Sandbar, despite it being Leafbare. Swimming across to the sandy island. Spotting Russethawk and Lotuswhisker in the distance. Seeing Rainclan for the first time. Meeting Silverstar. That was one of the most memorable days of his young life. But he recalled something else that happened that day. Something he hadn’t forgotten, even after all this time. That was the last day he saw his family. His parents had been asleep. He and his siblings had ventured out to find the clans. They got to a river, which he swam across easily. He looked back to find his siblings not behind him. He had thought that they had just went and looked for another way across that was more shallow. He knew he would see them again at some point. But he had been to the borders many times, that one specifically, and he never scented them. They never showed up in Rainclan. Where were they? Perhaps he would go out and fi-
A loud and scared squeak sounded right next to the ginger tom, causing his head to turn quickly. Only to have a frightened mouse jump right at him. Silentcreek let out his own surprised screech as the gray rodent leaped through the reeds at him, lightly hitting into his leg while trying to turn itself away as quickly as it could. Obviously it hadn’t known he was there, nor had he heard it coming.
With the fast scurries of the mouse’s tiny feet, the gray creature ran off as quick as it could, practically diving into the nearest hole it could find.
The tom blinked a few times, having stumbled backwards at the sudden appearance and attack of the prey. He had gone from sitting normally to now sitting directly on his tail, legs pushed out in front of him and his front paws between them. As Rosepaw appeared through the reeds, he looked wide-eyed at her, face unreadable minus the shock. He stared at her for a moment, blinking a few times.
Slowly, his face began to shift from shock into amusement. And then he let out a laugh. Not a small laugh. A true laugh, one that nearly caused him to fall backwards onto his back. He was not laughing at Rosepaw for her hunting attempt. He was not making fun of her. He just found the idea of being scared out of his mind by a mouse to be an amazing story to tell. As his laugh slowly began to diminish, those handsome eyes looked to the she-cat with a mixture of amusement and pride.
“You hunt prey, not use prey to hunt me.” His words were not harsh or mocking or teasing. In fact, he almost sounded amazed. She probably hadn’t meant for that to happen that way, but it had still been amazing nonetheless.
814 | Ghost the Undead Goddess
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