[doghouse]

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Originally Posted by Lonestar23

@Spirited Darkness


The handsome brown tabby loved his new name. Timberstrike. It sounded so cool, like he could do anything-- though the tom knew that certainly wasn't the case. Timberstrike. He loved the name, and yet at the same time he wondered if it really fit him. Apparently Gyrestar had thought so, naming him that... the new deputy seemed awfully nice. And they had a new medicine cat. Though for as long as Timberstrike could remember, it had been Zerosight as their medicine cat and Northpaw as the apprentice. Northpath in his later moons. And the new one was... Wheatfur? Wheatfur. Timberstrike wasn't quite sure whether he liked or loathed the idea of having a new cat taking care of the Clan. Though he'd only been to the medicine cat's den once, he'd definitely felt like he had been taken good care of.It was an experience he would never forget. Something that he had his own clanmates and Zerosight to thank for. And now, upon entering the territory, Timberstrike's expression changed in the slightest.
　
Was it just him, or was his expression more grown up? He was a warrior now. Too bad Kiwipaw's apprentice ceremony couldn't have waited, he could have ended up as her mentor...though he sincerely doubted Gyrestar would give apprenticeship of a cat entering the Clan to a younger, more inexperienced warrior. But Timberstrike had lived in ThunderClan all his life. With his sister... Briarbranch. He'd told her all about Kiwipaw, of course, or at least started to. Maybe things would change once he was older, more sure of himself...maybe then he would have an apprentice.Maybe then he would have some more experience, maybe he would be able to pass down everything that he knew to another cat. Another friendly cat would be ideal. Timberstrike's expression changed from one of excitement to one of worry. What if he messed up? What would that poor cat end up as, some sort of a helpless warrior? That was something Timberstrike knew he wouldn't allow to happen because, after all, that would be simply too much for him to handle.
　
Knowing that he had caused the downfall of some innocent cat. He was hoping they would be a good, loyal warrior to ThunderClan. And maybe someday they'd end up with a family of their own. The tom was a daydreamer, though these days his dreams mysteriously always turned to Kiwipaw. She was constantly on his mind, plaguing it, almost... but not quite. 'Plaguing' might have been a strong way of putting it. She was just there all the time, in a way that Timberstrike didn't know whether he liked or loathed. The tip of the tabby's tail began to twitch... slower at first, and then a little quicker. More violently, so to speak. But violently might not have been the right word for it. Although he knew it was probably unnatural-- or unusual-- he found his hues scanning the territory for any sight of the black and red she cat that was constantly on his mind, constantly haunting his thoughts.
　

Kiwipaw slipped soundlessly out of camp. Later, she had her first training session with her mentor, Featherspeckle. But before she did that, she wanted to speak with Timberp— Timberstrike. She reminded herself, smiling at the thought. She wanted to congratulate him on it, for since she'd started hanging around the Clan so much, she'd begun picking up on a lot of the Clan customs, and even more so now that she'd officially joined ThunderClan. Sometimes she got confused with her new name and the constant changing of names, but the black and red molly was fairly good with it now that she was used to it. Slowly, she started to move deeper into the territory, scenting the air for any signs of the brown tabby tom, but so far, she found none. That was likely due to all the mist and often rainfall, washing away or obscuring the scents, making it hard to tell what was what. But her thoughts began to wander, as Kiwipaw wondered what her life would be like had she never met Timberpaw moons ago. Probably, she'd be a simple loner or something, not an apprentice in a Clan.

She stopped in a small clearing that was dappled by sunlight and smelled strongly of earth, rain, and growing things. It was a thick, strong smell, but not exactly a bad one. Closing her eyes, Kiwipaw breathed in the scent and let her head droop so her chin nearly touched her chest fur. She was calming herself down and letting her thoughts flow freely. She wondered how her half-brother was, and if his mate had had her kits yet. She had never met Fria nor seen their kits, and she was beginning to doubt that she ever would. But she hoped they were all okay and safe, despite knowing that as kittypets, they were probably far safer than anyone else. Opening her eyes, she shook away those thoughts and scanned her surroundings with bright green hues, so far seeing nothing. Giving the white patch of fur on her chest a fur licks, she gave the clearing one more glance before padding away, deciding that she would come back there soon, as it was a beautiful and peaceful place. Around her, she could hear birdsong and a gentle, cool breeze, and she hoped that it would stay this way for a long time. She looked around, still keeping her eyes open for any sign of Timberstrike.

Then Kiwipaw caught sight of brown tabby fur and padded closer on silent paws, suddenly realizing that this was much like how they'd met each other. She'd crept up on him and probably scared him, though that was so long ago she had a hard time recalling all the details. She smiled a bit at that realization and remained silent, watching him with intense green eyes. She watched as his tail began to flick, slow t first but accelerating to a more rapid pace in a matter of heartbeats. It looked kind of odd, and as he began scanning his surroundings, she stepped out of her hiding place behind a pile of twigs, her head raised and eyes dancing in a friendly, cheerful sort of way. “Congratulations on your name!” she purred, sitting down a fox length away, starting to wonder if perhaps this wasn't a good idea. No, it's fine. She scolded herself, closing her eyes for a moment, then watching him, wondering what he was thinking or about to do. Brushing away her concern, she tilted her head, a faint smile on her maw.