Post by Katara on Jul 30, 2020 22:25:51 GMT -5
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if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the
Another day, a different story. Clovermask stepped out of the warriors' den, still very much awake and tingling from the dreams that had interrupted her rest. When she made her way toward the camp entrance, the only difference between now in then was the fact the warrior dipped his head as she approached, and she didn't feel as obligated to offer an explanation. It had happened so many times when she'd spent her time visiting the TreeClan border that her restless sleeping patterns seemed to be normal, at least for Clovermask. This time, though her paws itched to take her the familiar way to the Deer Path, she turned sharply in the opposite direction - toward the Black Woods. She'd walk until she got tired, and then she'd go home and accept a poppy seed from Smokefur or Shadowchaser.
When she emerged into the daylight, she had to pause to let her eyes adjust, before starting a meandering path toward the border that separated their territory from RainClan's. Instead of continuing straight toward it though, she padded further into NightClan territory, faintly curious what lay beyond their scent markers in the unblackened part of the woods. There wasn't much danger in this area than anywhere else, but as she padded along the scent markers, she kept her senses alert anyway. It was unfamiliar territory beyond, and she briefly wondered why they didn't just hunt further - before naturally coming to the conclusion herself. It didn't make sense to travel this far from camp to do border patrols every day, and carrying prey this far back seemed like a bit more work than it was worth, especially when prey could be found aplenty in most other areas of the forest.
Still, Greenleaf made the woods alive with the sounds of prey, and she couldn't ignore the squirrel that practically landed in her paws as it scampered off the tree trunk closest to her. She pounced forward, finishing it off with a quick bite, but leaped back in surprise when she found a ravine dipped sharply beneath her paws. It was steep enough a cat could easily get hurt if they weren't careful. She left her prey where it was, scraping a bit of earth over it to conceal its scent, before turning her attention to the ravine again. She noticed she was at the peak of it, and that it leveled off into a safer height further down. She padded off in that direction, but when she found some tumbled rocks piled against the steep drop, she decided to use them to climb down instead. The deputy looked around curiously, a little exhilarated to be in a place her Clanmates couldn't have visited often. It was inconvenient more than anything, but it certainly wasn't breaking the warrior code - or whatever.
She was about to climb back up the ravine when she heard something strange, something she was certain she'd never heard before, which drew her deeper into a richer part of the woods that seemed wholly untouched - or at least healed - from the fire that had ravaged NightClan's territory so long ago. Now she could hear the sound clearly, but still couldn't begin to comprehend what it was. Curiosity led her to the source - a fallen tree, which seemed to be hollow. From it, she could hear a strong sound, like the song of a bird, but lower.
Clovermask prowled toward a large hole that cracked the center of the tree open, which had just enough sunlight slanting inside of it for her to catch sight of the tabby pelt of a cat. In moving closer though, the realized she'd positioned herself upwind of the cat, and the sound stopped abruptly as she scrambled around to face her, sweeping a thick tail behind her as she did so. A surprisingly fearsome snarl ripped from the throat of the tabby she-cat, but Clovermask wasn't one to feel afraid of others. It had gotten her into trouble before, and it might get her into trouble now, but suddenly she didn't care. She scented something else in the air, and stepped back calmly instead, as the tabby crept from the split in the tree to reveal herself.
"Relax," the NightClan warrior told her, and when her fur didn't stop bristling, she sat herself in front of her coolly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I can smell your kits; what kind of a cat would I be if I harmed a mother?"
The tabby queen eyed her, the fur along her spine still spiky, and now Clovermask could see that she was thin, and tufts of her fur were carried from the hollow on the gentle breeze that wound around them. She obviously hadn't been taking very good care of herself. "I know you're from one of the wild cat groups," the queen said, suspiciously. "I know you'd do anything to cats that invaded your territory."
"You're not on our territory."
"So what are you doing here?" the she-cat retorted.
Clovermask paused, her mind turning as she tried to figure out in an instant how she should proceed. Why am I here? She was here because she'd been dreaming again, a territory away from her own, dreaming of sneaking away into the TreeClan nursery again and stealing kits that weren't hers. Kits that were far grown from being kits. She'd thought they'd stop after a couple of moons, the awful idea that had crept upon her. But they hadn't, and they would be apprentice-aged now. Why did she still dream about them?
She didn't know, but she decided she was going to be a little honest with this she-cat. "I couldn't sleep," she said simply. "I heard you, earlier. What were you doing?"
The tabby flicked an ear at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"The sound... like the wind, or birdsong, but louder," Clovermask prompted, genuinely interested. She'd never heard a sound like that come from a cat before.
"You mean singing?"
"Singing?" Clovermask echoed. Green eyes regarded the other cat critically. "Cats don't sing."
She got to her paws, and flicked her tail, sparing a glance at the split in her hollow tree where her kits were hidden - but it seemed more like a wistful glance. "I do. I did. A long time ago, I was kitted in a place where Twolegs would sing beautiful songs every morning before sunhigh. My mother sang to me as a kit, so I sing to my kits."
How ridiculous, Clovermask thought. This she-cat and her mother were mimicking Twolegs and birds? That wasn't proper cat-like behavior. Instead of voicing her thoughts, she inclined her head toward the tabby. "I see... You must have come a long way from your home. Twolegs have never been seen around our territories for many generations. What's your name?"
The tabby she-cat regarded her closely for a long moment before finally responding. "Naomi."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Naomi. My name is Clovermask. You look starving," she went on, and gestured with her muzzle to the ravine above her head, "I left a squirrel I caught up there. Would you like to have it if I went to fetch it?"
Naomi's amber eyes widened a fraction in something like surprise, and then switched back to guarded neutrality. "Don't you have a colony to feed?"
"A Clan," Clovermask corrected. "And it's Greenleaf, my Clan will survive will not starve over a lost squirrel. And my Clan has a number of hunters to help feed our kits. You don't appear to have anyone but yourself." Naomi bristled for a moment, and Clovermask kept her voice level as she continued. "Your kits will starve too if your milk dries up."
Naomi hesitated only a moment more, before dipping her head. "I would appreciate the meal."
The bengal nodded, before springing to her paws and bounding up the fallen rocks that brought her back to the top of the ravine. She plucked up the squirrel she'd left, and picked her way back down, padding lightly over to the queen and setting it down in front of her. "Good luck. Don't come too close to the border, my Clanmates might not be as courteous as me," she warned.
Naomi nodded, and looked down at the squirrel. "Thank you, Clovermask." Without another word, she picked up her meal and darted back into the split of the hollow, back to her kits. Clovermask padded away, but only far enough that the queen would see that she'd left. After a stretch of quiet, she heard the low sound beginning again, carried by the wind through the trees. Singing.
When the deputy arrived back at camp, it was long after sunhigh, and she didn't need to take a poppy seed to collapse immediately back into sleep where she seemed to pick up right where she left off. Dreams of stolen kits, with Naomi's voice soothing them to sleep.
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if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the
PYRE OF YOUR
enemies
enemies
clover
clovermask.
NIGHTCLAN DEPUTY // 48 MOONS
A
When she emerged into the daylight, she had to pause to let her eyes adjust, before starting a meandering path toward the border that separated their territory from RainClan's. Instead of continuing straight toward it though, she padded further into NightClan territory, faintly curious what lay beyond their scent markers in the unblackened part of the woods. There wasn't much danger in this area than anywhere else, but as she padded along the scent markers, she kept her senses alert anyway. It was unfamiliar territory beyond, and she briefly wondered why they didn't just hunt further - before naturally coming to the conclusion herself. It didn't make sense to travel this far from camp to do border patrols every day, and carrying prey this far back seemed like a bit more work than it was worth, especially when prey could be found aplenty in most other areas of the forest.
Still, Greenleaf made the woods alive with the sounds of prey, and she couldn't ignore the squirrel that practically landed in her paws as it scampered off the tree trunk closest to her. She pounced forward, finishing it off with a quick bite, but leaped back in surprise when she found a ravine dipped sharply beneath her paws. It was steep enough a cat could easily get hurt if they weren't careful. She left her prey where it was, scraping a bit of earth over it to conceal its scent, before turning her attention to the ravine again. She noticed she was at the peak of it, and that it leveled off into a safer height further down. She padded off in that direction, but when she found some tumbled rocks piled against the steep drop, she decided to use them to climb down instead. The deputy looked around curiously, a little exhilarated to be in a place her Clanmates couldn't have visited often. It was inconvenient more than anything, but it certainly wasn't breaking the warrior code - or whatever.
She was about to climb back up the ravine when she heard something strange, something she was certain she'd never heard before, which drew her deeper into a richer part of the woods that seemed wholly untouched - or at least healed - from the fire that had ravaged NightClan's territory so long ago. Now she could hear the sound clearly, but still couldn't begin to comprehend what it was. Curiosity led her to the source - a fallen tree, which seemed to be hollow. From it, she could hear a strong sound, like the song of a bird, but lower.
Clovermask prowled toward a large hole that cracked the center of the tree open, which had just enough sunlight slanting inside of it for her to catch sight of the tabby pelt of a cat. In moving closer though, the realized she'd positioned herself upwind of the cat, and the sound stopped abruptly as she scrambled around to face her, sweeping a thick tail behind her as she did so. A surprisingly fearsome snarl ripped from the throat of the tabby she-cat, but Clovermask wasn't one to feel afraid of others. It had gotten her into trouble before, and it might get her into trouble now, but suddenly she didn't care. She scented something else in the air, and stepped back calmly instead, as the tabby crept from the split in the tree to reveal herself.
"Relax," the NightClan warrior told her, and when her fur didn't stop bristling, she sat herself in front of her coolly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I can smell your kits; what kind of a cat would I be if I harmed a mother?"
The tabby queen eyed her, the fur along her spine still spiky, and now Clovermask could see that she was thin, and tufts of her fur were carried from the hollow on the gentle breeze that wound around them. She obviously hadn't been taking very good care of herself. "I know you're from one of the wild cat groups," the queen said, suspiciously. "I know you'd do anything to cats that invaded your territory."
"You're not on our territory."
"So what are you doing here?" the she-cat retorted.
Clovermask paused, her mind turning as she tried to figure out in an instant how she should proceed. Why am I here? She was here because she'd been dreaming again, a territory away from her own, dreaming of sneaking away into the TreeClan nursery again and stealing kits that weren't hers. Kits that were far grown from being kits. She'd thought they'd stop after a couple of moons, the awful idea that had crept upon her. But they hadn't, and they would be apprentice-aged now. Why did she still dream about them?
She didn't know, but she decided she was going to be a little honest with this she-cat. "I couldn't sleep," she said simply. "I heard you, earlier. What were you doing?"
The tabby flicked an ear at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"The sound... like the wind, or birdsong, but louder," Clovermask prompted, genuinely interested. She'd never heard a sound like that come from a cat before.
"You mean singing?"
"Singing?" Clovermask echoed. Green eyes regarded the other cat critically. "Cats don't sing."
She got to her paws, and flicked her tail, sparing a glance at the split in her hollow tree where her kits were hidden - but it seemed more like a wistful glance. "I do. I did. A long time ago, I was kitted in a place where Twolegs would sing beautiful songs every morning before sunhigh. My mother sang to me as a kit, so I sing to my kits."
How ridiculous, Clovermask thought. This she-cat and her mother were mimicking Twolegs and birds? That wasn't proper cat-like behavior. Instead of voicing her thoughts, she inclined her head toward the tabby. "I see... You must have come a long way from your home. Twolegs have never been seen around our territories for many generations. What's your name?"
The tabby she-cat regarded her closely for a long moment before finally responding. "Naomi."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Naomi. My name is Clovermask. You look starving," she went on, and gestured with her muzzle to the ravine above her head, "I left a squirrel I caught up there. Would you like to have it if I went to fetch it?"
Naomi's amber eyes widened a fraction in something like surprise, and then switched back to guarded neutrality. "Don't you have a colony to feed?"
"A Clan," Clovermask corrected. "And it's Greenleaf, my Clan will survive will not starve over a lost squirrel. And my Clan has a number of hunters to help feed our kits. You don't appear to have anyone but yourself." Naomi bristled for a moment, and Clovermask kept her voice level as she continued. "Your kits will starve too if your milk dries up."
Naomi hesitated only a moment more, before dipping her head. "I would appreciate the meal."
The bengal nodded, before springing to her paws and bounding up the fallen rocks that brought her back to the top of the ravine. She plucked up the squirrel she'd left, and picked her way back down, padding lightly over to the queen and setting it down in front of her. "Good luck. Don't come too close to the border, my Clanmates might not be as courteous as me," she warned.
Naomi nodded, and looked down at the squirrel. "Thank you, Clovermask." Without another word, she picked up her meal and darted back into the split of the hollow, back to her kits. Clovermask padded away, but only far enough that the queen would see that she'd left. After a stretch of quiet, she heard the low sound beginning again, carried by the wind through the trees. Singing.
When the deputy arrived back at camp, it was long after sunhigh, and she didn't need to take a poppy seed to collapse immediately back into sleep where she seemed to pick up right where she left off. Dreams of stolen kits, with Naomi's voice soothing them to sleep.
[attr="class","cltag"]tagged prp! | [attr="class","clnotes"]notes part 1 |
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