[Gemini]

[googlefont="Covered By Your Grace"][googlefont="Glegoo"][googlefont="Cinzel Decorative"]

Mistyrose
Warrior of StoneClan

      
"Embrace Your Ambition."

---

Vibrant green visionaries scrutinized amidst the blue-gray molly, pondering about what she wanted to do next. The mademoiselle spent most of her days, proving herself to be a dutiful warrior, constantly volunteering to do extra patrols. Mistyrose never gave into rest, being one of the most insomniac felines another may come across. Her restlessness is tied to her ambition, in which she is normally craving action of any sort. Any way for the molly to scatter out into the territory, brought her ease and joy. The grace she found while in the territory soothed her core, bringing a smile upon her facade.

Her evergreen eyes seemed to portray the picture of perfection, slicing into one's soul. There was a momentary flash in them a sparkle, finding oneself into a hypnotic swirling whirlpool of varieties of green. Those green eyes could reminded other's of dew grass freshly watered. A unfamiliar warmth rushed through though her physique, feeling a zephyr tugging at the grey furs of her pelage. They sparkled like a bright, clear emerald lit by the flames of beauty itself. Green tendrils circled her pupil, filling up her iris with every wonder in life, intoxicating with their depth. What to do...

Camp is boring, can a patrol go out now? Or is there one returning? Ugh. A sigh escaped the damsel's mandibles, finding her gaze shifted between each individual cat those green hues landed on. She scrutinized them carefully, admiring their features, whether they took on scars or had a beautiful pelt with no scar marks. Mistyrose herself doesn't have many scars, merely any of the wounds she earned had scarred. Mistyrose breathed out, scoffing through her nostrils as she scanned the camp for someone to converse with. It was quite clear from the bummed, sluggish expression that she carried; she was extremely bored. The damsel began to pace back and forth, tail swaying behind her rump in a fidgety way, lashing.

She raised her crania toward the vast abyss above, watching as the sun began to fall beneath the horizon. She watched as the cerulean started to darken, becoming a sharper, deeper blue, to almost an inky black. However, the thickly dark night had been arrayed with thousands of stars, alongside the bright moon which lit up the night and spread across the valley. Under a sky of perfect midnight velvet, under stars so brilliant they drew the eyes heaven bound. She couldn't tear her vision from the sky, finding it miraculously astounding to gaze upon, the molly's luminaries glinted in the moonlight. 

The starry night above was better than any software imitation. There were lighter patches, clusters of faint and bold light, the constellations altered according to the time of year. Not that these felines saw them as constellations. These were the same stars that greeted the ancients, the same ones that would be there in millions of years. They were ancestors and families, loved ones, to those down on the ground. Mistyrose shifted back against her haunches to the cool terrain of the Earth.

Night came like the spell of an enchantress, water to stone, earth to iron, green grass to frosted white. There was no hint of warmth left, nothing of the autumn or the kiss of the vanquished sun. Hours promised to pass slowly yet steal their body heat with indecent speed. The night was bitter, the temperature dropping more as time passed on. The night came whispering sweet nothings, luring heat from tired muscles until they could rest no more. It caressed their skin until it stole the pink blush and replaced it with blue. Above was the beauty of the stars, the clear night allowing the meager heat of the day to leave unhindered. The only notion of brightness came from a full moon and stars, and even her light was a chilled silver beam.

Eventually, the blue damsel tore her gaze from the sky, averting her crania toward a fellow clanmate. She noticed an alabaster, short-furred tomcat, hoisting herself upright as she sauntered toward the opposing feline. She dipped her crania in greeting, a simper creeping upon her countenance. She found attraction toward the one-eyed tom, seeing it could've been from a battle or something. Unless he was born with it, which she'd probably find more unique and intriguing. "Whitehawk, right?" She fluttered her wide hues, "I'm Mistyrose if you hadn't already known. It's getting late, aren't you getting to bed soon?" She inquired, placing herself next to her clanmate. "Or does the pretty boy not have a cuddle buddy? Ha," She started to laugh quietly, closing her eyes momentarily, "I used to be able to sleep, but I can't keep warm so I don't bother much."

---

Notes: Here it is! Tag: Abyss  with Whitehawk      Wordcount: 805

"Speaking" thoughts

[Abyss]

WHITEHAWK

A heavy sigh fell from parted jaws, the occasional dried leave crackling underneath large paws. Pointed white ears rotated slowly to either side, tuning into the land around him in search of any approaching signs of life. Luckily, all that he could hear was the footsteps of his patrol-mates, and the only scent to cling to his nostrils and tongue was the two squirrels that were draped across his back.

Now that the weather was growing gradually colder in reference to the coming Leafbare, prey was beginning to grow even more rare to find. Snakes were starting to hide away in the little tunnels beneath the territory’s stones, lizards were hiding themselves away in any time that sun did not occupy, and many rodents and birds were either leaving or going into hiding. He had been lucky to catch what he did, as were his clanmates, but they had also parted from camp during what was likely the warmest period of the day. The white tom was unsure of the circumstances related to his clanmates and their waking, but he himself had came to a late start this day, not waking up until sunhigh was already passing by. It wasn’t as though he had purposefully slept in, but rather was instructed to do so, for he would be one of the chosen Warriors to stand guard at the camp entrance when night came. It wasn’t too often that he was picked for this duty, but the days when he did get selected for it always messed up his sleep schedule. Sleeping most of the day and remaining awake during the night? This was not enjoyable in his eyes.

Though, he had to admit. Being up at night gave him the chance to peer up at the stars, which was worth it. Even as he neared the camp, he found his half-sighted gaze peering up at the sky. There was a feeling of tranquility that settled over his shoulders looking up at that endless wall of darkness and stars. He couldn’t help but wonder what cats were looking down at the inhabitants of Stoneclan at that moment. He could think of a few in particular, certain cats who he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of. Valiantstride, Nightpetal, Hawkstar, Frozenrain. He knew for certain that they were only a few of the many.

It took a few moments for the large colorless tom to realize that, in his lost thoughts, he had already arrived back at camp just as the final rays of sun disappeared from the camp walls. A glance to either side of him revealed that those he had spent part of the day hunting with were already walking through the entrance with their kills. At least hadn’t been too far behind.

The cool shadows within Stoneclan’s camp slid over his pelt like water, sending a slight chill down his back. Though he enjoyed the warmth rather than being cold, when entering the camp, it was almost a good sort of tingle that ran down his back. It was as though the nerves beneath his skin knew that this place may be chilly, but still knew that it was home.

His head and neck twisted to the side, reaching behind himself to grip the tails of the squirrels. He laid them carefully in the fresh-kill pile alongside the prey the others had delivered, adding on to the stack of prey that other patrols had also managed to catch. While the food storage didn’t look particularly empty, it wasn’t full either. This was something that he hated to admit, given how many mouths there were to feed within the clan. But this was what happened when the colder half of the year rolled around. There wasn’t much they could do to change this outcome except to do their best and hope.

Fortunately, he had a little bit of time before he had to be at the camp entrance, though not much. Perhaps this would be the best time to get himself a snack, to give him the energy to stay awake. Giving his snowy pelt a quick shake, Whitehawk leaned down to wrap his jaws around a small mouse at the edge of the pile.

It had been quite some time since his vision transitioned from being whole to only being a mere half. He could still likely count the moons if he really wished to remember, but he found it better not to think too hard about those days. He had developed and grown used to his disability over time, and was proud to say that he had nearly complete control over it. Nearly. He had his moments when his weakness came into play, hardly ever playing in his favor. And this was one of those times.

Once more lost in thought, he didn’t quite catch the sound of approaching steps to the left of him. Truthfully, he did feel a slight twinge of irritation when cats didn’t come forth to him from his good side. But he wasn’t the sort to get truly angry over this when it did happen. It was nothing more than an inconvenience.

Just as he lifted his head, the little gray mouse hanging from his jaws, a sudden voice speaking his name sounded from next to him, causing him to lightly jump and turn his head quickly. His gaze was rather neutral when he turned, but it couldn’t be hidden that those green-yellow pools widened at the sight of who approached. Recognition of a feminine voice, as well as smooth features and batting orbs, sent a wave of warmth up to his ears and down his back.

He seemed rather off-guard at seeing the blue she-cat, a few blinks taking place before he finally offered a small nod in response to her question. Even though his immediate instinct was to avert his gaze, he found his sight stuck on the she-cat. Not because of anything in particular, but merely because of the fact that this cat was female. She continued to speak, but he found himself at a loss for words, in addition to having his mouth full. For a split moment, it seemed he forgot that he was not a mute and had the ability to speak properly. By the time he came to this realization, the she-cat had already asked him a question.

Seemingly startled by his own lack of response, he quickly set the mouse at his paws, looking back to her with a gaze that couldn’t decide where to peer. When he finally spoke, his eyes continuously switched between her eyes, her mouth, her paws, and the camp walls. “U-Uh...y-yeah, I have guard duty tonight.”

At her nickname and the question that the Warrioress presented, the warmth that began at his ears spread through his cheeks, his gaze quickly averting. “N-No, I sleep by myself. Or with my sister.” His tail twitched behind him, unsure of what he was supposed to say.

Stoneclan Warrior

1165

Gemini

[Gemini]

[googlefont="Covered By Your Grace"][googlefont="Glegoo"][googlefont="Cinzel Decorative"]

Mistyrose
Warrior of StoneClan

      
"Embrace Your Ambition."

---

Her wide, almond green luminaries shifted between her delicate foundations and Whitehawk. She watched the expression of the tom's shift, watching as his visage flickered between different parts of the damsel. She couldn't help but giggle at the tomcat's bashfulness, finding it adorable in a way. She enjoyed teasing the more timorous and introverted felines, considering they were easy to mess with, easily more embarrassed or taken aback by her vocalizations. The tall, lissome mademoiselle extended her legs in a stretch, glimpsing to her side to listen to Whitehawk as he finally spoke. "How cute, I used to sleep with my sisters, but now they've got mates. They barely speak to me, such bird-brains," She scoffed, clearly disappointed by the distance her sisters had now between her and them, plus their mates. She missed bonding with her sisters.

Mistyrose found her gaze falling into the depth's of Whitehawk's, staring intensely for a moment before shifted her visage back toward the boundless abyss of countless stars. Not quite the hot dark of embers of a fire or such, but a soft, hopeful dark. The dark that comes just before the sunrise, a kind of dark that helps the orange and gold blossom across the sky, like a small flower trembling open in spring. The dark that encourages you to fall asleep as you close your eyes, tossing and turning in a futile attempt to slip away into the depths of unconsciousness, blissfully unaware. The type of dark that occurs in a complete solar eclipse, blocking out the light, the noise, the feeling of being, leaving one in the silence of serenity, if only for a few seconds. Leafbare is coming.

The molly swallowed the lump in her throat that was forming, feeling distressed that the coldest season was in a rush to come. The leafbare was occurring quickly than she'd ever seen, hoping that the scarcity wouldn't be horrible to the point where clanners' ribs could be seen. Go away, Leafbare. She grunted, averting her distinct sea-green gaze toward the opposing StoneClanner. The night brought mostly silence and darkness amongst the valley, providing a peaceful night to soothe the mind and muscles, though, the current temperatures prevented such ease. It was challenging to be at ease when one was cold, as it was a fight for the body warmth needed to be maintained. 

There would be upcoming storms that had ebbed to nothingness, now the silence was as pure as the wintry blanket coming up. Every creature was sheltering, the birds had either flown south or had better things to do than sing, and there prey would become thinner and more scarce. When her ears became more accustomed to the lack of sound she thought she could hear the subtle whistle of the wind that was partially tickling the damsel's epidermis beneath her blue furs, but other than that only her rhythmic breathing brokered the air alongside the conversation between the two. After a few moments of silence, Mistyrose voiced, "How do you feel about the Leafbare, Whitehawk?" She abruptly inquired, genuinely curious on his own opinions about the nasty season. Sure, leafbare had its own beauty in a way, with the way the water iced over and glistened, reflecting the sun's vibrant rays, or how the alabaster frigid flakes that fell from the sky formed a wintry blanket across the ground, frosting trees and grass.

Mistyrose exhaled sheepishly, listening as the howling wind came to a halt. Now it was nothing but stillness in the inky darkness. There was absolute stillness. No air stirred the grass or leaves. No clouds drifted in the sea of blue above. No water dripped or flowed. Not a sound could be heard either close at paw or in the far off distance. Even her own breath seemed to die as soon as it left her mandibles or velveteens. It was an eerie sort of tranquility, so instead of being soothed my senses became heightened. She felt like the prey even though no predator could be detected. It was as if the world were encased in a cocoon, a bubble, and there was no way out. "If you get cold, let me know," She offered a small, sincere grimace, "We can keep each other warm. I don't see myself sleeping much tonight, so consider me on guard duty with you~." She flashed the tom a whimsical wink, flicking her tail over his back in a playful demeanor. 

---

Notes: Sorry it's a bit shorter! Tag: Abyss  with Whitehawk      Wordcount: 770

"Speaking" thoughts

[Abyss]

WHITEHAWK

While he couldn't deny that listening to the relationships that his clanmates held with their families and friends, he wasn't entirely sure how to respond to her statement. Though, what she said did make him begin to wonder. What would he do if Lakegaze found a mate? It was somewhat surprising that she hadn't yet, given her looks and her sweet personality. Then again, she would probably say the same about him if she was presented the same observation.

Neither sibling had found someone to call their own. Both of them were often too caught up in their duties, or, like in his current case, training his Apprentice. But it wasn't like Tigerpaw would remain an Apprentice forever. Sooner or later the white tom wouldn't have extra duties that came with being a mentor. Not unless Birdstar gave him another Apprentice, which likely wouldn't happen for at least a few moons.

So once he no longer served as a mentor, what would he do? Admittedly, he hadn't considered looking for a mate despite his age. One wouldn't say that he was necessarily "in his prime" anymore, depending on what age that was to others. He was in his early 50 moons now, which was strange to think about. Maybe there were she-cat's that liked older toms?

Wait, why was he even thinking about that? He hadn't had any particular desire to find a mate. He couldn't deny that sometimes he wondered what it would be like to have a family, though. Finding a lovely she-cat, having kits together, raising them and watching as they become members of the clan. Those were just dreams, though. He could dream of finding a mate all he wanted, but with his social awkwardness when around real she-cats, the likelihood of him really finding one was slim.

When Whitehawk finally returned from his thoughts, he found the blue Warrioress looking to the sky. He wasn't sure why, but he decided to do the same, singular yellow-green gaze peering at the stars that hung overhead. Even though above them were stars right now, that wouldn't be the case for long. Learbare was on its way, and everyone knew it. The days grew colder and the air became far more breezy and cool. Soon it would be snow falling from the sky rather than stars hanging overhead. Bright white would layer the ground of the valley and the lakes and rivers would begin to freeze over.

At her sudden question, he glanced in her direction, thinking for a moment. "I mean….I'm...ok with it. The snow makes it easier for me to blend in. The cold can be a bit frustrating, but it isn't like we have a choice but to deal with it."

In comparison to most, this larger tom didn't have much of an opinion on Leafbare, or the seasons in general. Each of them were unique in their own way, and all of 5hem have pros and cons, just like cats. Yeah, Leafbare was probably the worst with its cold temperatures and the lack of prey. But they couldn't get rid of it, even if they tried. The only ones who could probably do that was those in Starclan, but what were the chances of them taking away an entire season? It wouldn't happen, so the clans had to suffer with it when it came.

It wasn't until this moment that Whitehawk felt a slight shiver down his spine. One thing he did dislike was the way the night became so much colder than the day, especially when he had to be outside in it. Of course, the timing couldn't have been worse.

Let her know if I get cold? A somewhat inquisitive expression was met with a wink and the suggestion of keeping each other warm, as well as a brush of fur against his back. Just when the previous heat that sprouted in his ears and face had begun to fade, they came right back, his sights turning away quickly to hide his embarrassment.

Why does this happen every time?! Its always like this! With literally every she-cat that isn't Lakegaze! I don't...I don't know how to handle this.[/ib]

"I..you...you don't have to if you're cold. I-I can handle myself. And...I'm not really cold just yet." His paws fidgeted beneath him, unsure of what to do or what to say from there. He did find that he was a tad bit cold, but having a larger body came with benefits. He at first assumed that the cold may not bother Mistyrose, given her own size. But, thinking on it more, Misty was tall, but that didn't make her big. She was far more lanky than he was, so perhaps the cold got to her more than it got to him. His instinct was to offer himself as warmth, but given that Mistyrose was a she-cat and he wasn't exactly talented at communicating with girls, he wouldn't even know where to begin in doing that without losing any sense of control he currently had. Not a bad control, but the control of keeping himself from crumbling like a pile of awkward dust.

Stoneclan Warrior

864

Gemini