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Post by Daffodil on Aug 10, 2016 12:59:17 GMT -5
Ayy, this is a 1x1 between myself and Dawn that's been carried over from the old forums. c: It's a closed rp, but feel free to pop in and say hello if you'd like!
RP Premise: During one of the nastiest storms in recent history, two cats of rival clans find refuge in an old tunnel system underground. What happens when they discover each other? Worse yet, what is to become of them when they realize the way(s) they came in have been blocked off due to the storm?
Characters:
Swiftfoot - 22 Moons - She-cat - RPed by Dawnmoss
Swiftfoot's fur is a predominantly white with a few orangish-cream splotches decorating her fur. You can see these splotches take in the form of a mask, cut in half by a white blaze, a large splotch that runs down her spine and drips a little bit down her sides, one sock and faint tabby stripes in her tail. Her eyes are almond shaped, and are an emerald green in color. Her head has a very faint triangular shape, and her ears are large. This is because Swiftfoot is of kittypet descent, though it is not a fact that she proudly declares, for she is quite ashamed of her kittypet roots. Swiftfoot is a cat of slender build, with a nice long body and equally long legs. Because of this, she is able to cover more ground while running, and she is known in her clan for being quite a fast runner, and an equally good hunter. However, she is rather small in size, and isn't very strong.
Sootwhisker - 26 Moons - Tom - RPed by Daffodil Inquiry
Although Sootwhisker is primarily black in color, he gets his name from his long ebony whiskers. A streak of raven-colored fur starts from the ridge of his ashy nose down his spine to the tip of his tail. Along his sides are black, leopard-like spots with a dark gray outlining that gradually turns white the closer it gets to his underbelly. The spotted pattern doesn't stop there, however. It continues from his throat down to his chest, the spots being black and the outline gray. Once his stomach is reached, black "clouds" become more dotted in appearance and his fur along his belly is white. The dark gray outlining and the spots make a reappearance along his inner haunches. Sootwhisker's face is almost triangular in shape. He has a white muzzle and an eggshell framework around his contrasting yellow eyes. Although he's not a bulky cat, Sootwhisker is quite large and lengthy. He has limber black legs and sharp pointed claws that are perfect for climbing trees and fending off foes. While he makes for a suitable fighter, Sootwhisker's dark pelt and subtle paws makes it easy for him to blend in with the shadows. He is known best for his sneaking prowess. |
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Post by Dawnmoss on Aug 10, 2016 13:51:01 GMT -5
Ayyyyyyy! :3
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Post by Daffodil on Aug 10, 2016 14:12:08 GMT -5
ayyyy c;
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Post by Dawnmoss on Aug 10, 2016 16:42:05 GMT -5
^30
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Post by Daffodil on Aug 10, 2016 16:56:57 GMT -5
<:
So, how should we set this up? Should we take turns in putting up the old replies until we reach where we left off, or should we just start with the latest replies and go from there?
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Post by Dawnmoss on Aug 12, 2016 12:31:38 GMT -5
I think it's bes that we start with the latest.
Cause I lost my old ones xP
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Post by Daffodil on Aug 13, 2016 3:03:03 GMT -5
Oh my god, nice. c': I saved them, but I'm also lazy af, so starting from the latest post sounds good to me! I'll work on that now!
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Post by Dawnmoss on Aug 13, 2016 21:34:27 GMT -5
Yeah, I'm absolutely brilliant Dx
Alright!
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Post by Daffodil on Aug 27, 2016 12:04:56 GMT -5
Sootwhisker;; If there was any hope left in Sootwhisker, it deflated at the ghost’s words. Once when he was a kit, Sootwhisker had fallen into the pond just outside of WillowClan camp. He was lucky that his mother had followed him, and he was luckier still that she knew how to swim, for he sank like a rock the second he hit the water. He couldn’t help but think crossing the river would be an all-too-familiar experience—although perhaps there’d be less sinking and more flailing as the turbulent water forced him to follow the current. Sootwhisker’s outlook on the situation didn’t improve when Swiftfoot addressed him. He regarded her with a look that was skeptical at best, and his tail twitched irritably at the thought of her helping him. If he was going on previous experience with the she-cat alone, then he didn’t have much faith in her offer. Still, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice, and he supposed some help would be better than none at all. But could he trust her? A voice in his head asked. He didn’t have an answer, so he merely dug his claws into the soil beneath him and addressed Swiftfoot with a curt nod. “Fine,” he said, adding, “assuming you don’t run away again, mind you.” He caught Berryfoot’s gaze and noted the exasperation in the tom’s eyes. Now wasn’t the time to be petty, they seemed to be saying. Sootwhisker regarded him with a flick of the ear in response. The ghost shot him a disapproving scowl before he turned away and trotted a few paces ahead of the group. “Now that everything is sorted out, we should get going,” he said. “Follow me, you three, and be on your guard. The huntress won’t be far behind us.” Word of the huntress made Sootwhisker’s pelt prickle. Oh yes, he’d all but forgotten about the ghost hunting them in the tunnels. As mad as he was at Swiftfoot for abandoning him, he relented that he found her presence comforting. Unlike Berryfoot, she was something solid—something that breathed in air and left paw prints on the earth when she walked. At the very least, she was someone he could tether his sanity to when he doubted his experience in the tunnels. How many cats from above would believe him when he told them about the huntress and her victims? Bearing in mind that he actually escaped, of course. Berryfoot was moving briskly, and Sootwhisker found himself needing to pick up the pace in order to keep up with the apparition. He supposed he was moving fast to get them out as quickly as possible. He could respect that. Every second counted when you were being tracked by a killer, and although he felt more secure about coming across her with the group in tow, he’d rather avoid the huntress entirely if it could be helped. Still, Sootwhisker found himself calling after the tom when he got too far ahead and received a muffled apology in response. “Sorry,” Berryfoot panted. “Traveling this path always makes me a bit anxious, but we’re almost there! The dead end we want is just up ahead—can you hear anything?” Sootwhisker paused, tilting his ears around for signs of rushing water. Sure enough, the sound of something gurgling just beyond the walls caught his attention, and he found himself pacing on his paws as a fresh wave of hope and apprehension washed over him. “Yeah, I can hear the river,” he muttered, exhaling sharply through his nose. Berryfoot nodded, beaming. “Let’s go!” he said, casting the group a triumphant look before he rushed forward, Sootwhisker hard on his trail. This was it. They were almost free. Almost.
{Here we are. [wheeze] Sorry for the hold up! My muse has been low, but it seems to be coming back!} |
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Post by Dawnmoss on Aug 28, 2016 0:48:16 GMT -5
Swiftfoot
The moment she saw Sootwhisker's skeptical look directed at her, Swiftfoot knew she would need to try her hardest to mend the rift she herself had made when she ran away in panic. The thought was only confirmed by what he said next.
Ouch. Swiftfoot winced as if he had struck her with his claws rather than words. That hurt. She cursed herself for being stupid enough to give in to her primal instincts so readily.
She felt a ghostly presence beside her and she looked to her side to see Northwatcher giving her a comforting look. His translucent eyes seemed to say "don't let him get you down." He made the motions to press himself against her, but instead of feeling warm fur and flesh, all she felt was something cold touch her flank. It was sort of like feeling a winter breeze chill through her skin and into her bones. She quietly shuddered and stepped away on instinct. The disappointment and hurt in his eyes made her regret it instantly. That her first instinct was to rub her cheek against his as means of apology was sadder still.
She turned her attention back to Sootwhisker. "I won't run out on you again. I promise," she said, though she knew he wouldn't believe her until she proved herself to him. Shouldn't be a problem, though; she'd had to prove more things to a whole Clan before. She took heart on that and felt a surge of determination fill her, giving her strength to her weary limbs.
She hoped that it wouldn't run out until she was crossing her Clan's borders.
Swiftfoot felt relieved that they started to move again, and hope was beginning to well up in her chest at the thought of finally, finally, finding a way out of this place. They had been under these StarClan-forsaken tunnels for far too long. Though it had probably been only hours -- a day at the most -- it felt like it had been years since she had last been above ground.
Good StarClan, was it really only just a few hours ago that she had been seeking refuge from the storm? It all seemed to long ago now...
To avoid distracting herself too much with her own thoughts, Swiftfoot kept most of her attention on following Sootwhisker, speeding up when he did, as well as keeping her ears pricked for any signs of the huntress. Northwatcher fell behind, and more than once Swiftfoot stopped to call for him when she failed to see him there.
"Keep going, child," he said. "I'm just looking out for all of you, don't worry! I won't be leaving just yet."
Reassured by this, and thankful that she didn't have to say good-bye to him yet, she bounded her way forward, for she had momentarily fallen behind.
She was beginning to wonder exactly how long they would have to walk when, lo and behold, Berrynose announced that they were close. She stopped to listen the same time Sootwhisker did and, sure enough, she could hear the faint gurgling of the river through the earthen walls. More than that, she could smell the scent of water mixed with dry earth that created a smell oddly similar, if not exactly the same, as petrichor. Hope bloomed in her chest like a flower in the spring. It threatened to constrict her throat with the intensity of it. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes. She sprang forward with her heart pounding on her chest. They were so close to being free, she could almost taste it. Soon, she would see the sky in all its vast glory, feel the spongy grass beneath her, feel the wind ruffle her coat.
Soon, she would be able to be among her Clanmates again, see Cottontail, and feel her father's gaze and hear his throaty purr.
"We're almost there," she mewed, her voice choked by the happy sob that got stuck in her throat. "Oh, Sootwhisker, we're so close."
Soon.
As they approached their destination rapidly, Northwatcher followed slowly. He kept himself sharply aware of his surroundings. He paused and narrowed his eyes. A soft growl built up from somewhere in his throat and his yellow eyes glinted with fury.
There it was. Faint, distant, but unmistakable.
The gentle scrape of claws on earth.
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Post by Dawnmoss on Aug 28, 2016 0:49:36 GMT -5
((Oh, it's fine! I understand 100%)
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Post by Daffodil on Feb 2, 2017 10:15:28 GMT -5
([rises from the grave] hello.)
Sootwhisker;; Sootwhisker wished it was his imagination, but he heard it loud and clear—the all too familiar sound of claws scraping against earth. It sent a chill down his spine and caused him to stumble, cursing and spitting as he nearly tripped over his own paws in his haste to outrun her trademark call. It was useless, however, for the sound of her scratching seemed to vibrate through the tunnels, growing louder and louder the more they ran away. Ahead of him, Berryfoot’s pelt was standing on end and his ears were flat against his head as he too heard her coming.
“Keep going!” he screeched to his companions. “We’re almost to the dead end. It’s just a little farther!”
The dead end. It didn’t sound so reassuring to Sootwhisker’s ears, but he trusted Berryfoot. He heard the river and Swiftfoot had too. He could still hear it now throbbing through the walls around them. It seemed to rival the sound of her claws, and while the thought of swimming filled him with about as much dread as the thought of facing her, there was a small spark of hope flickering in the depths of his chest. He didn’t want to die in these tunnels with Swiftfoot. He didn’t want to join Berryfoot and all the other ghosts the huntress had trapped for an eternity in her maze. He wanted his freedom, and as the end drew closer and closer, His determination swelled in his chest, goading his paws forward. They were so close! Berryfoot was slowing down as they neared the wall and Sootwhisker slowed with him, his heart beating so hard that he could hear it in his ears. The roar of the river reached its climax at this point; the walls around him were thin. Berryfoot had to yell to be heard.
“This is it,” he was saying. “Dig through this wall and prepare to dive in. We’ll deal with her if she—“ His voice cut off and his face froze, eyes as large as ponds. Sootwhisker stiffened as a familiar purr rang through his ears, overshadowing the pulse of the river. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his mouth dry. He knew better than to turn around and look—he knew what was there—but once again, the compulsion was too strong. He opened his eyes and twisted his neck, staring behind him. The same pair of copper eyes stared back, but there was more to her than just her gaze this time.
Sootwhisker had never been squeamish. He’d seen serious injuries before—burn marks, maulings, wounds so deep they reached the bone—but seeing the huntress in full form churned his insides so violently he nearly staggered, nausea gripping at his stomach. She was large and gray with long fur and a flat face—half of it which was missing skin and was merely bone. The bones of her rib cage were also visible to the eye, and her paws and her mouth were scarlet and dripping on the floor. Her poofy tail curled out behind her like that of an overjoyed kit, and her claws slid out as the purr of hers came to a halt.
Beside him, Berryfoot was bristling.
“You have to go,” he said to him and Swiftfoot. “StarClan light your path, always.” And then he roared back as the huntress screamed, hurtling himself down the tunnel to meet her head-on with his claws outstretched.
He wasn’t a religious cat, but as he forced himself to look away and dig at the wall, he found himself praying to whoever was listening to hear his friend’s screeches and keep him and the other ghost safe as he and Swiftfoot attempted their escape.
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