Being an apprentice was the strangest thing. It was funny - Mercurypaw had waited a long time to be respected, to get to tell his remaining Dad about being an apprentice, and now that the day had come… both Dads were dead. Gone forever. Mercurypaw was angry, definitely - but not sad. Sadness was weakness, and within the first week or so of hearing about Thrushflight’s death, he had hidden it away and revealed only anger. I’ll make you proud, Dad. I’ll make whoever killed you pay one day. That was going to be hard, considering he didn’t know who it was or even what Clan they were from - every Clan but SkyClan had been involved, which only made Mercurypaw angrier.
It had been between ThunderClan and WindClan, and certainly if it had been a fair fight that way, Thrushflight wouldn’t have died. No puny ThunderClan cat could have killed his Dad, but… Mercurypaw still couldn’t bring himself to rule them out. It could have been anyone. And whoever it was, one day, he would find them and he would make sure they knew exactly who he was killing them for. He would kill them very slowly, making them beg for mercy before he finally ended their wretched, pathetic little lives. Right now, there was a furious expression on Mercurypaw’s features as he watched the other cats in the clearing, going about their business like it didn’t even matter. Mercurypaw had been taking care of what he needed to - but in his free time, you would never catch him aimlessly wandering around. He rested, waited, watched… always wondering if perhaps it had been an “inside job” and a WindClan warrior had killed Thrushflight.
It was almost consuming him. This was why caring about anyone, anytime, was weakness. Mercurypaw’s family was the one thing he couldn’t help but care about. He was fiercely loyal towards them, more so than his Clan, almost. And it was a weakness. An awful one.
Bored, Quailpaw was laying in a secluded edge of the clearing, rolling a round rock underneath her paw. She rolled it with one paw over to the other, and then back again. The young feline felt that she was ready to become a warrior, she was almost old enough. The one problem was that she hadn’t had much training recently. Who needs training anyways? I can teach myself. Getting up, Quailpaw poked her head around the bush she had been laying behind, her golden eyes spotting Mercurypaw immediately. Since he had become an apprentice, Quailpaw had just watched the younger tom from afar. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him, he was a bit odd. Never would she say that to his face though.
The tabby had a sudden urge to talk to him, but her pride stopped her from doing so. She wasn’t a cat to go up to someone and initiate a conversation. Especially since she felt the need to watch her actions around the multi-colored tom. Thinking for a moment, Quailpaw decided the best way to judge this situation was to see if he even wanted to talk to her. Or remembered her for that matter. Walking out from behind the bush, Quailpaw focused her eyes on the apprentices den, like she was walking towards it. She then lay down in front of it, and quickly glanced at Mercurypaw as she licked one of her paws.
A tight white and ginger ball of fur sat curled in the corner of the den, any trace of a face well hidden in the sleek, well-groomed pelt. Goosegrumble, like usual, didn’t feel like talking to anybody. His time would be wasted if he did, as Goosegrumble found most cats in Windclan annoying and irritable. The tom knew he couldn’t feign sleeping forever though, that wasn’t the life he led. As a strong and able warrior, Goosegrumble gave his all to the clan: even though they didn’t give their all to him. He was actually quite selfless if you took the time to know the tom, but it was so hard for any cat to get past the grumpy exterior he put up. His walls were thick and full of thorns, not even the moat careful cats seemed to be able to get to this tomcat.
Uncurling himself, Goosegrumble shook off the little bits of moss stuck to his head, then he moved his paws underneath him and lifted himself up. Stretching his body out and yawning, Goosegrumble blinked his eyes slowly, casting his orange gaze around the small space. After looking around for a little bit, the tomcat started to make his way towards the exit.
Desertsun sighed as he sat with his tail curled around his paws, his eyes closed but ears perked and listening. He had ushered his apprentice out of the apprentice's den and told him to get himself ready for a day of training. However, the apprentice still hadn't shown himself. Desertsun was not very patient and was feeling his fur grow hot with irritation. Come on you slow birdbrained apprentice He thought to himself, while insulting his apprentice in his head was acceptable to his standards, he'd never outright say that insult. Desertsun was not blind, nor was he daft. He knew his apprentice had an interest in birds. And while Desertsun instantly thought of food when thinking about birds, he found himself a bit curious. Only slightly curious as to why Torrentpaw seemed so intrigued by the birds that he'd be so into the birds, he wouldn't be watching where he was going and trip or knock into someone. The ginger and white stripped tabby's ears flicked trying to listen for any indication that his apprentice was going to make his entrance. The warrior was growing more and more annoyed at waiting as each minute passed.
It was a warm evening, the sun setting in the distance as the Clan settled down for nightfall. Crickets began to chirp, making some sort of song. It was New Leaf, thankfully, which meant prey would be plentiful and no more shivering in the cold. The sunset cast a warm, cozy glow over the camp, comforting and honestly, very beautiful to look at.
A young black and white tom sat in a corner of the clearing, running his pink tongue over his forepaw, admiring the setting sun. He enjoyed looking at the colours spread along the sky then disappear as darkness took over and the stars came out. He watched the sunset every evening. It was his favourite past time. He drew his paw over his ears before setting it down. The Turkish Angora brought his tail to curl around him and rest neatly over his paws. He glanced around, feeling a little bit lonely. He never had many friends, but he usually spent his time alone. He didn't usually feel lonely, so this was new to him. The tom sighed and got to his paws and padded to the Fresh Kill pile, taking a rabbit in his jaws and carrying it back over to his spot. The elders and kits had eaten already, so it was time for his evening meal. He settled down and tore into the rabbit, holding it between his paws. He perked his ears as a warm breeze blew by. He gazed up at the sunset as he ate, purring with enjoyment. It was indeed a beautiful sight. He smiled to himself and continued eating.
Milkshade finished his meal, swiping his tongue around his jaws to remove traces of meat from his whiskers. He then began to groom his tail, his tongue making quiet rasping sounds.
(( @Bright sorry I would make it longer but i am dead tired.))
A tight white and ginger ball of fur sat curled in the corner of the den, any trace of a face well hidden in the sleek, well-groomed pelt. Goosegrumble, like usual, didn’t feel like talking to anybody. His time would be wasted if he did, as Goosegrumble found most cats in Windclan annoying and irritable. The tom knew he couldn’t feign sleeping forever though, that wasn’t the life he led. As a strong and able warrior, Goosegrumble gave his all to the clan: even though they didn’t give their all to him. He was actually quite selfless if you took the time to know the tom, but it was so hard for any cat to get past the grumpy exterior he put up. His walls were thick and full of thorns, not even the moat careful cats seemed to be able to get to this tomcat.
Uncurling himself, Goosegrumble shook off the little bits of moss stuck to his head, then he moved his paws underneath him and lifted himself up. Stretching his body out and yawning, Goosegrumble blinked his eyes slowly, casting his orange gaze around the small space. After looking around for a little bit, the tomcat started to make his way towards the exit.
Gorsewing lay curled in her large nest, the maine coon’s thick tail spilling over the side, still sore from getting bitten. Though she wasn't the typical size and, well, shape of a Windclanner, beneath her thick fur was a surprisingly fleet-footed cat. For a Maine coon, that is. She missed her sister Heatherstep’s warmth from before she moved across the den to sleep with her mate, and she curled in tighter ball around the empty space. Heatherstep wasn’t her biological sister, but rather somewhat of an adoptive one. They had become inseparable as kits and would do everything together, disregarding their size difference. Everything, except finding a mate. Taking in a breath for a sigh, she heard pawsteps picking through the throng of sleeping cats, just before a heavy paw slammed on top of her injured tail, turning her sigh into a yowl. She leapt upright, her shoulders crunching through twigs woven through the ceiling of the den as she clamped her jaws shut on her yowl.
__________________
FOR THE LOVE OF STARCLAN PLEASE PING ME ON DISCORD
I have the ADHD
I'll forget.
Quotes:
"You know the saying 'the tables have turned'?
Well these tables have flipped, rolled and spontaneously combusted into potatoes." ~me
"That's not a riddle. That's a prophecy."
"Sounds like a riddle, is a riddle. Riddled with loops and whorls and only makes sense after someone dies." ~Turtle
Desertsun sighed as he sat with his tail curled around his paws, his eyes closed but ears perked and listening. He had ushered his apprentice out of the apprentice's den and told him to get himself ready for a day of training. However, the apprentice still hadn't shown himself. Desertsun was not very patient and was feeling his fur grow hot with irritation. Come on you slow birdbrained apprentice He thought to himself, while insulting his apprentice in his head was acceptable to his standards, he'd never outright say that insult. Desertsun was not blind, nor was he daft. He knew his apprentice had an interest in birds. And while Desertsun instantly thought of food when thinking about birds, he found himself a bit curious. Only slightly curious as to why Torrentpaw seemed so intrigued by the birds that he'd be so into the birds, he wouldn't be watching where he was going and trip or knock into someone. The ginger and white stripped tabby's ears flicked trying to listen for any indication that his apprentice was going to make his entrance. The warrior was growing more and more annoyed at waiting as each minute passed.
torrentpaw's eyes were wide with interest, his muscles tense and trying to keep him in one spot. trying to refrain from making a sound. a small, jumpy finch stood not a tail away from the tom, pecking at the forest floor on a search for food. he was going crazy on the inside. he had never been so close to a bird before! other than that one time.. he stood behind a bush, half of his face peeking out, stalking her. and not stalking her because he was about to lunge towards her and kill her; starclan, no, he wouldn't dream of that! perhaps there really was something wrong with him like everyone said, but he sure wouldn't dare lay a paw on the small bird. he wouldn't dare sink his teeth into fowl, no matter what you told him. but another thing was for sure; cats were supposed to want to eat birds. to kill them. to sink their teeth or claws into them. not admire them as if they were some kind of prized beauty. not think of them as so intelligent; like they were as interesting as to distract him from- the bird spotted him just then. oh, fox dung!
if it was even possible, his eyes widened even more and he perked up, the movement scaring the bird into flapping her wings and flying away. but that was the least of his worries now. desertsun is gonna kill me! he may have wandered off a bit, but he still hadn't gone too far from the training moor. so he ran as fast as his little scrawny legs could take him. he ran almost blindly, his only thoughts on the scolding he would get from the larger tom.
thump!
he ran straight into none other than desertsun himself, unable to stop himself when he did realize he was running towards him.
Gorsewing lay curled in her large nest, the maine coon’s thick tail spilling over the side, still sore from getting bitten. Though she wasn't the typical size and, well, shape of a Windclanner, beneath her thick fur was a surprisingly fleet-footed cat. For a Maine coon, that is. She missed her sister Heatherstep’s warmth from before she moved across the den to sleep with her mate, and she curled in tighter ball around the empty space. Heatherstep wasn’t her biological sister, but rather somewhat of an adoptive one. They had become inseparable as kits and would do everything together, disregarding their size difference. Everything, except finding a mate. Taking in a breath for a sigh, she heard pawsteps picking through the throng of sleeping cats, just before a heavy paw slammed on top of her injured tail, turning her sigh into a yowl. She leapt upright, her shoulders crunching through twigs woven through the ceiling of the den as she clamped her jaws shut on her yowl.
Goosegrumble hadn’t noticed the tail laying across the path between the nests before it was too late. He jumped back a bit, both in fear and surprise as a fluffy she-cat lept out of her nest, stifling a yowl. Goosegrumble lowered his ears, ashamed at himself for one, not watching where he was going, and two, being scared of something in the warriors den. There’s no way to dodge this conversation. He sighed to himself, knowing he’d have to apologize to the cat, then she would probably start talking to him. Scolding him most likely. “Sorry for stepping on your tail...” He mumbled, his head lowering in shame. Goosegrumble truly did feel bad. He’d had his tail stepped on a number of times. He knew how hard it could hurt if they got it in the right spot. But Goosegrumble wasn’t exactly one to know how to properly express emotions. Any one other than grouchy that is.
Bored, Quailpaw was laying in a secluded edge of the clearing, rolling a round rock underneath her paw. She rolled it with one paw over to the other, and then back again. The young feline felt that she was ready to become a warrior, she was almost old enough. The one problem was that she hadn’t had much training recently. Who needs training anyways? I can teach myself. Getting up, Quailpaw poked her head around the bush she had been laying behind, her golden eyes spotting Mercurypaw immediately. Since he had become an apprentice, Quailpaw had just watched the younger tom from afar. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him, he was a bit odd. Never would she say that to his face though.
The tabby had a sudden urge to talk to him, but her pride stopped her from doing so. She wasn’t a cat to go up to someone and initiate a conversation. Especially since she felt the need to watch her actions around the multi-colored tom. Thinking for a moment, Quailpaw decided the best way to judge this situation was to see if he even wanted to talk to her. Or remembered her for that matter. Walking out from behind the bush, Quailpaw focused her eyes on the apprentices den, like she was walking towards it. She then lay down in front of it, and quickly glanced at Mercurypaw as she licked one of her paws.
Mercurypaw’s eyes narrowed as he watched Quailpaw. What was she doing, anyways? He hadn’t talked to her much, but she seemed to have at least a few similar beliefs… and she definitely wasn’t the worst. Slowly, the tom got to his paws and moved over towards her, almost carelessly, like he wasn’t really thinking about what he was doing - until he was right in front of her, glancing down at her like she was a piece of crow-food. ”Is there something I can do for you? Or were you simply trying to be odd?” He asked, his tone polite but his words aimed to be sharper and crueler. Mercurypaw would normally be trying to be more polite, a little less harsh, at least, but with the loss of both parents - and with his siblings spread all over the place, and he unable to keep up with all of them, he wasn’t in the best mood.
It didn’t help that Quailpaw had been watching him - it was more irritating, really. But he supposed it couldn’t hurt that much. Quickly trying to recover, the tom’s eyes softened a little and even his body seemed to soften… though he kept just enough tension to be ready for whatever would come next. ”My apologies. I haven’t been feeling like myself lately, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.” This was the front he kept up, trying to be polite and civilized - it was easier to get closer to cats that way. It was easier to talk to someone who was polite and civilized. And it gave Mercurypaw exactly what he wanted… an advantage.
I mentioned on my profile that I was starting over. A fresh start is best for me right now; I've created quite a few new characters, and they will all be on my site, but not all will be used in roleplay right away. it's likely I'll bring them in more gradually.
As the mostly dark-furred tom listened to Windcrest tell him her favorite food, he would tilt his head slightly to show his curiosity. He wasn't listening simply because he had to, to be nice, but rather, because he was genuinely interested to hear what her favorite meal was. Duskflight had always been the tom to want to get to know a cat better, to remember the little details about them to bring up later in conversations because it always seemed to make them happier. Perhaps because it meant that someone had actually paid attention enough to remember that little thing about them. But Windcrest certainly would not be excluded from this behavior of his. His blue eyes looked at her paw as she picked it up, giving a size comparison of the bird she was talking about. "Sparrows huh? I only saw those when I strayed closer to the outskirts of places with trees. They really don't come around here that often... If I do happen to find one while hunting, I know exactly who it's going to be for." He purred out with a friendly smile, letting her pick her prey first before he nosed his way through the pile. While he didn't exactly go for the stale pieces of prey, he did go for the smaller ones, ending up with a single mouse to scarf down. He could always eat later, as he did plan on going out for a small hunting trip. Once he lifted his head with the rodent clamped in his jaws, he would look to her before turning his head to look for a clear spot for the two of them to eat. Flicking his tail lightly, he'd nudge her slightly in the direction he was heading before he casually began to walk towards it, tail lifted high in his apparent joyfulness. It was good to finally have a cat that wanted to talk to you like you were a clanmate, and not ask you what it was like living as a loner for a good many moons. Once reaching the spot, he would settle down and tuck his hindpaws beneath himself, stretching his forepaws out and placing the mouse between them. "Is this spot good for you? We can move if you'd like."
@Owl
The feline blushed at the thought of Duskflight hunting for her and she froze for a moment, playing it out. Him hunting and coming back excited and padding up to her exclaiming how he got her her favorite food. A smile came to her maw and she immediately realized what she was doing and what she was supposed to be doing. She looked over at Duskflight wondering if he noticed. When he asked her if the spot was okay, she quickly blurted out." O-Oh yes! It's uhmm p-perfect." She gave him a small smile before settling herself down. She looked up at him, waiting for him to settle down next to her. The molly laid the prey in front of her.
"And uhmm I'd appreciate it. I-I'm not good at hunting them." She frowned. She was good at darting forward after a bunny and could easily wiggle her way into a bunny den to grab it, should it duck into it's home. But if there was one thing that Windcrest couldn't master, was jumping in the air to catch a bird in the case that it tried to fly off and she could never quite catch birds off guard. It frustrated her a bit but she tried to not let it bother her. A few warriors, Rosethorn, included would scoff at her and tell her she's not fit to be a WindClan warrior or a Clan cat at all if she can't even hunt simple birds.
Sandpatch gave a gentle yawn as he slipped out of the darkened space of the den and into the clearing, greeted by the reddish orange-hue of the sunrise casting a blanket of warmth over the Windclan camp. It would be a beautiful sight for anyone, but for this tomcat, it was the perfect sight to start the morning for him. The tall male glanced around as other cats walked past him to socialize in the clearing with their loved ones. He smiled at the sight and joined the small crowd of cats that were starting their morning routines without any further disruptions. Making his way over to the freshkill pile, Sandpatch dipped his head as a silent greeting to anyone who he went by and even uttered a softened ‘Good morning!’ to a few of them, but he was much too tired to be his usual energetic self - not until he had a healthy meal to get the blood flowing in his veins. His mother always told him to never skip out on a meal, otherwise he wouldn’t grow strong and be able to defend himself or his clanmates when the time came. May Starclan rest her soul. The brown-and-tan-furred feline quietly picked up a rather plump rabbit in his jaws and went over to a comfortable, open spot on the edge of the clearing with his tail waving back and forth behind him as he laid down on the cooled loose dirt. Sandpatch could only hope that luck was in his favor on his peaceful day, hoping no ill-fated drama would come his way.
Last edited by Captain; March 28th, 2018 at 04:58 PM.
Re: WindClan Clearing
