[Ginger]

Frostjaw

nightclan warrior 41 moons

It had been a long night of hunting. Frostjaw truly despised it when he was put on hunting patrols. His long white fur was not meant for small and constantly alert creatures. No, he was a warrior made in the light of StarClan. He was put on this plane to defend his clan, to fight against invaders, and to cast away nonbelievers. 

As Frostjaw entered camp, the a few rays of rising sun followed him into the cave entrance. He carried a large bullfrog that he had managed to catch as it was too on the hunt for a bug of some sort. The frogs and toads would not be on NightClan's menu for much longer as they descended into the water to protect themselves from the cold. Their own behaviors were a philosophy Frostjaw strongly believed in. How could NightClan and the whole valley grow closer to StarClan without first entrenching themselves in total darkness? Only then would they realize the true values of the stars that lit up their lives.

After dropping the frog on the fresh-kill pile, which was starting to look a little more meager, Frostjaw decided it would be to the clan's benefit for him to avoid a meal tonight. Hunting was not an exhausting task, and both young and old had to eat first.

The large warrior next made his way into the warriors den, where many were already asleep. Many except one. 

Icy blue eyes locked with piercing green ones. "Badgerscar," he said sharply, taking his place in his nest next to the other warrior's. He didn't much know the other warrior, but Frostjaw had been watching him. The other warriors took to him well, and he was very capable in sparring matches. He was someone Frostjaw wanted to get to know. His strength meant he had some higher purpose. Frostjaw just had to help him see it.

After getting comfortable, Frostjaw looked again at the only other awake warrior in the den. "I trust that StarClan blessed you with a bountiful hunt." The two toms, both known for their dislike of hunting, had happened to be put on two separate hunting patrols that night. 

He paused a moment, looking at the sleeping faces of his clanmates. "I don't know why they waste our strength on the hunting of meager prey."

only in darkness can you see the stars

Gemini & 350 words

[Gemini]

WORDS: 765 |
TAG: Ginger with Frostjaw |
NOTES: --;-

Badgerscar was dissimilar from most, keeping to himself unless spoken to. The tomcat lie awake in the Warrior's Den, legs extended out while he laid on his flank, though his chest had been upright with his crania as well. His menacing gaze diverted from each warrior, individually scrutinizing them, though only momentarily. He exhaled sheepishly, closing his visage as he took a sharp inhale. Things were constantly changing. From season, to the personality of others, from birth to death. Nothing remained the same, and there wasn't really anything anyone could do to keep it from happening. The reigns of leaders will also change, he figured it. Leaders could be wonderful while others can come in and be brutal.

In the days since Badgerscar's passing insomnia is the companion that won't quit. Time has taken on a different form, more plentiful than ever it was, more quiet moments to think though the oblivion of sleep would be kinder. It was his safety, his harbor. In all these wakeful hours he is a fading specter and beneath it all is a shock he can't quite let surface, because every time it comes close, his nightmare solidifies, hope fades and the sick feeling returns to his abdomen. Badgerscar struggled to sleep, not that he knew what insomnia was. He just knew he struggled to sleep and remain that way for a prolonged time.

Most times, insomnia haunted his nights; fatigue ruled his days. When he needed to be lucid and clear his brain begged for unconsciousness, for sleep at any price. But come the hours of darkness in the comfort of the den, his mind lights up with new possibilities, new sources of disaster and danger. He wanted to let them go, to count mice and relax, but soon the mice are telling him what can go wrong tomorrow because of some avoidable blunder he made today. When he finally slept, he woke after only a couple of fitful hours and wake as if a whole night had passed, but it hasn't. He wished he could be one of those felines who roll over and doze off but he can't. He can either lie in the den watching the color slowly seep back into the walls of it, waiting for the dawn chorus, or he can get up. Sometimes he'd curl up into himself and think.

He began to ponder, thinking of something he hadn't quite come across yet. Love. It was something he'd imagine would change him for the better. Badgerscar had grown independent, almost too much for the time for a mate. Though, if someone changed his mind, it probably wouldn't last, but that was just his pessimistic thoughts about the idea of it. Badgerscar is often stressed, mostly by his thoughts. Love is the answer to some problems because it reduces cortisol, the stress hormone, which alters brain architecture for the better. Lower stress and fear is the answer to world problems because it heals the brain to a better architecture and enhances the ability for love and nurture. Creating conditions for the healing of the brain is the answer to some of those problems because healed people soothe others, reducing cortisol and spread more love. Everyone needs a bit of love.

"Badgerscar." His thoughts had been corrupted, visionaries broadening as the reverberating vocalizations rung in his ears. Moments of silence drew between the behemoth frosty tom and Badgerscar. The tattered tomcat glimpsed toward his direction, recognizing the feline as Frostjaw. "Yes?" He questioned in a murmur, a bit bewildered by the sudden approach in the night. Amidst the two were bunches of slumbering warriors, though it seemed Frostjaw was free to converse. "I trust that StarClan blessed you with a bountiful hunt."  He dubiously shook his crania, "Hunting is a waste of my time, I certainly can't hunt." He couldn't help but offer a chuckle, shifting his gaze to the moonlight lingering into the den.

For some reason, the way Frostjaw carried himself, Badgerscar found him rather capricious. "I don't know why they waste our strength on the hunting of meager prey." Frostjaw's vocals husked, a sigh escaping Badgerscar. His malachite gaze averted toward the brawny, alabaster feline.  "Well, we do need to eat. But, more energy should be focused on improving ourselves for the better in battle and skirmishes. There aren't enough warriors who have the brute strength and technique in a fight. But what do I know." 

no one is actually dead,

until the ripples they caused in the world die away.

credit to nat of adoxography.