Post by Katara on Oct 31, 2020 14:21:21 GMT -5
[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]
if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the
How do you kill a cat?
The question had been prowling in her mind for days. She had never thought about taking another cat's life, not even Darkstone's, and to be perfectly honest she didn't want to. There was no part of her that was considering this because she wanted to, she was considering it because she had to.
She had been dreaming - non-stop, night after night - about Naomi's kits.
She dreamed about grooming them, carefully and soothingly, murmuring to them the legends of the warriors in the stars the way she had heard from the other queens. She dreamed about them hanging on her every word, eyes shining with admiration, falling over themselves to please her. She dreamed about them play-fighting, and eagerly taking heed to her advice, copying her instructions for battle moves. She dreamed about them calling her Mother. She couldn't ignore the dreams after that; for the first time in her life, she felt something greater than herself pulling her toward her purpose.
It was just unfortunate she'd have to kill Naomi to accomplish it.
Clovermask liked the she-cat, she really did. That's what she told herself anyway, inbetween brainstorming sessions of how best to kill her. She wasn't doing this because she hated her, she was doing this because she was smart. If she was going to take these kits into the Clan without dealing with Naomi permanently, there would be a rogue desperately running around NightClan territory looking for her kits, and she simply couldn't have that. She did consider it though, since it felt more appealing to have other warriors deal with dispatching a cat she didn't really want to kill, but she couldn't figure out how to paint a rogue mother as crazy or unreasonable enough, when any cat who happened to be a mother would probably understand her distress.
So, it circled back around to the broader question: How was Clovermask going to kill Naomi? She turned it over and over in her head; when she got up at dusk to start sending out patrols, when she marked the TreeClan border, when she was having a meal, and when she lay her head down at dawn. Even Darkstar had sharply pointed out she'd seemed distracted the last couple nights, forcing her to re-focus on her priorities. After all, how was she to be a mother and a deputy at the same time? Would Darkstar even allow it?
She gave Darkstar a long look now, across the cave from where she sat with Bluecloud now. The NightClan leader had just emerged from the nursery, exchanging a few brief words with Skybringer as the queen returned to her duty of looking after the leader's kits. Something told Clovermask that Darkstar might just hear her out if she pleaded her case to juggle both her duties as a deputy and taking care of a litter. It wasn't as if Darkstar could tell her it wasn't possible, when she was doing it herself.
But would it make her seem weak?
Clovermask shook her head, then got to her paws briskly, jabbing a paw into Bluecloud's side. "Come with me on a hunting patrol," she ordered, looking around to see who else she could tolerate to join them. She was pleased when she spotted Stormripple, quickly realizing she would do well to become friendly with him. He was loner-born, like her kits were, and his support would be welcome when she brought them back to the Clan. She padded over to him, waving her tail. "Join Bluecloud and I for a hunting patrol?" she inquired. As she expected, the tom leaped to his paws. He reminded her quite a lot of Bluecloud, so it wasn't surprising when the senior warrior gave him a friendly greeting, and soon the pair of them were chatting like a pair of blackbirds as soon as they left camp.
How do you kill a cat?
Clovermask sank her fangs into the throat of a squirrel, not far from the TreeClan border. The sky was beginning to turn purple, heralding the coming of dawn, and she turned back to find Bluecloud and Stormripple with the squirrel in her jaws, picking up a water vole she had half-buried in pine needles along the way.
Should she use her claws and her teeth? Her pelt crawled just at the thought of it, disgust rolling through her. She would rather it not be a bloody affair if she could help it; she hated the idea of having to wash sticky blood from her paws and muzzle, especially since she wouldn't have anyone to help her. What if she missed a spot? No, she needed this to be a bloodless affair, somehow.
"Are we heading back?" Bluecloud meowed, as soon as she approached. He had a plump bird at his paws, and Stormripple appeared carrying a couple of mice. Clovermask nodded in answer, satisfied with their contribution. Leafbare was coming, but she was still managing to make sure NightClan was well-fed. Her kits would be lucky to become members of the Clan, and she was confident they'd be able to feed a few more mouths.
The sky was turning pink by the time they were nearing the cave, when suddenly Stormripple dropped his mice and darted between the trees. A startled noise came from the warrior, and Clovermask dropped her own prey and bounded toward where he'd disappeared, Bluecloud on her heels. Stormripple stumbled back from a bush, ears flattened, but holding the fattest squirrel she had ever laid eyes on.
"Nice catch!" she complimented him, right when Bluecloud gasped, "You're hurt!"
Alarm flashed in Stormripple's eyes, twisting to see his back legs slick with something dark. Clovermask stepped forward quickly, sniffing his fur before realizing it was simply the squashed remains of several berries from the bush. She wrinkled her nose. "It's not blood - it's berries. But I don't know what they are, so I think we should talk to Shadowchaser before washing it off. Bluecloud, can you fetch the apprentices and have them carry our catch back to camp?"
Bluecloud nodded, spinning around and running the rest of the way to the cave. Clovermask pawed off most of the berry remains so only the stains on Stormripple's fur remained, stepping back when she'd finished.
"Am I going to live?" asked Stormripple mournfully. His eyes were stretched dramatically wide when she looked back at him.
"Of course you're going to live, you furball," she scoffed, before realizing he'd been joking, recognizing his expression as theatrical after the fact. His eyes danced back at her, and she flicked her tail across his nose as she passed him. "Let's get you back to camp before you keel over or something."
When Shadowchaser had assessed them, he'd told them the stains had been from deathberries, and they'd been right to come to him right away. Clovermask listened thoughtfully as he informed them they were poisonous, and that they weren't allowed to lick their fur for a few days so any remaining toxin wouldn't give them a bellyache. Then he'd soaked Stormripple's back legs in waterlogged moss, and made Clovermask dip her berry-stained paw in more moss, before finally letting them go.
By then, Clovermask had answered the question she'd been asking herself all day long.
[newclass=".cltag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".clnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
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 // 51 MOONS
H
The question had been prowling in her mind for days. She had never thought about taking another cat's life, not even Darkstone's, and to be perfectly honest she didn't want to. There was no part of her that was considering this because she wanted to, she was considering it because she had to.
She had been dreaming - non-stop, night after night - about Naomi's kits.
She dreamed about grooming them, carefully and soothingly, murmuring to them the legends of the warriors in the stars the way she had heard from the other queens. She dreamed about them hanging on her every word, eyes shining with admiration, falling over themselves to please her. She dreamed about them play-fighting, and eagerly taking heed to her advice, copying her instructions for battle moves. She dreamed about them calling her Mother. She couldn't ignore the dreams after that; for the first time in her life, she felt something greater than herself pulling her toward her purpose.
It was just unfortunate she'd have to kill Naomi to accomplish it.
Clovermask liked the she-cat, she really did. That's what she told herself anyway, inbetween brainstorming sessions of how best to kill her. She wasn't doing this because she hated her, she was doing this because she was smart. If she was going to take these kits into the Clan without dealing with Naomi permanently, there would be a rogue desperately running around NightClan territory looking for her kits, and she simply couldn't have that. She did consider it though, since it felt more appealing to have other warriors deal with dispatching a cat she didn't really want to kill, but she couldn't figure out how to paint a rogue mother as crazy or unreasonable enough, when any cat who happened to be a mother would probably understand her distress.
So, it circled back around to the broader question: How was Clovermask going to kill Naomi? She turned it over and over in her head; when she got up at dusk to start sending out patrols, when she marked the TreeClan border, when she was having a meal, and when she lay her head down at dawn. Even Darkstar had sharply pointed out she'd seemed distracted the last couple nights, forcing her to re-focus on her priorities. After all, how was she to be a mother and a deputy at the same time? Would Darkstar even allow it?
She gave Darkstar a long look now, across the cave from where she sat with Bluecloud now. The NightClan leader had just emerged from the nursery, exchanging a few brief words with Skybringer as the queen returned to her duty of looking after the leader's kits. Something told Clovermask that Darkstar might just hear her out if she pleaded her case to juggle both her duties as a deputy and taking care of a litter. It wasn't as if Darkstar could tell her it wasn't possible, when she was doing it herself.
But would it make her seem weak?
Clovermask shook her head, then got to her paws briskly, jabbing a paw into Bluecloud's side. "Come with me on a hunting patrol," she ordered, looking around to see who else she could tolerate to join them. She was pleased when she spotted Stormripple, quickly realizing she would do well to become friendly with him. He was loner-born, like her kits were, and his support would be welcome when she brought them back to the Clan. She padded over to him, waving her tail. "Join Bluecloud and I for a hunting patrol?" she inquired. As she expected, the tom leaped to his paws. He reminded her quite a lot of Bluecloud, so it wasn't surprising when the senior warrior gave him a friendly greeting, and soon the pair of them were chatting like a pair of blackbirds as soon as they left camp.
How do you kill a cat?
Clovermask sank her fangs into the throat of a squirrel, not far from the TreeClan border. The sky was beginning to turn purple, heralding the coming of dawn, and she turned back to find Bluecloud and Stormripple with the squirrel in her jaws, picking up a water vole she had half-buried in pine needles along the way.
Should she use her claws and her teeth? Her pelt crawled just at the thought of it, disgust rolling through her. She would rather it not be a bloody affair if she could help it; she hated the idea of having to wash sticky blood from her paws and muzzle, especially since she wouldn't have anyone to help her. What if she missed a spot? No, she needed this to be a bloodless affair, somehow.
"Are we heading back?" Bluecloud meowed, as soon as she approached. He had a plump bird at his paws, and Stormripple appeared carrying a couple of mice. Clovermask nodded in answer, satisfied with their contribution. Leafbare was coming, but she was still managing to make sure NightClan was well-fed. Her kits would be lucky to become members of the Clan, and she was confident they'd be able to feed a few more mouths.
The sky was turning pink by the time they were nearing the cave, when suddenly Stormripple dropped his mice and darted between the trees. A startled noise came from the warrior, and Clovermask dropped her own prey and bounded toward where he'd disappeared, Bluecloud on her heels. Stormripple stumbled back from a bush, ears flattened, but holding the fattest squirrel she had ever laid eyes on.
"Nice catch!" she complimented him, right when Bluecloud gasped, "You're hurt!"
Alarm flashed in Stormripple's eyes, twisting to see his back legs slick with something dark. Clovermask stepped forward quickly, sniffing his fur before realizing it was simply the squashed remains of several berries from the bush. She wrinkled her nose. "It's not blood - it's berries. But I don't know what they are, so I think we should talk to Shadowchaser before washing it off. Bluecloud, can you fetch the apprentices and have them carry our catch back to camp?"
Bluecloud nodded, spinning around and running the rest of the way to the cave. Clovermask pawed off most of the berry remains so only the stains on Stormripple's fur remained, stepping back when she'd finished.
"Am I going to live?" asked Stormripple mournfully. His eyes were stretched dramatically wide when she looked back at him.
"Of course you're going to live, you furball," she scoffed, before realizing he'd been joking, recognizing his expression as theatrical after the fact. His eyes danced back at her, and she flicked her tail across his nose as she passed him. "Let's get you back to camp before you keel over or something."
When Shadowchaser had assessed them, he'd told them the stains had been from deathberries, and they'd been right to come to him right away. Clovermask listened thoughtfully as he informed them they were poisonous, and that they weren't allowed to lick their fur for a few days so any remaining toxin wouldn't give them a bellyache. Then he'd soaked Stormripple's back legs in waterlogged moss, and made Clovermask dip her berry-stained paw in more moss, before finally letting them go.
By then, Clovermask had answered the question she'd been asking herself all day long.
[attr="class","cltag"]tagged prp! | [attr="class","clnotes"]notes part 2 |
[newclass=".cltag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".clnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
