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Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 27, 2024 11:17:46 GMT -5
Sorrelsnap ยป
For once in his long life Sorrelsnap cared not about firing back a sour retort. The scent of blood and panic set his heart racing. Blood pumped furiously throughout his body, drumming in his ears like an off-kilter beat that only wanted answers. The sound of battle had not echoed throughout the forest. The stench of spilled blood had not drenched the breeze. Yet here they were, just outside the camp, and now it was the scent of danger that wrapped around him like a coiled snake.
An elder knew all too well when something was happening. When something had already happened. He had bore witness to fight after fight, death after death. He knew the scents of danger. He knew when to respond with swift directness. Now was not the time to berate the young apprentice for her attitude or apologize for his mistake - not that he would consider his misunderstanding as a mistake. Grouse sounded a lot like mouse, and Cariboupaw had been a few fox-lengths away from him. How was he supposed to immediately know she had meant mouse and not grouse?
โฆ Perhaps he should have used more context clues for that one, but that wasnโt important right now.
โBlood, bitter herbs, and kits.โ
So he had scented that odd mixture correctly.
Again his mind flashed to Silverfern. Had she kitted? It made no sense for that to be the case. The queen had expressed no signs of labor just earlier, and she had been well within the security of camp when Sorrelsnap and Cariboupaw had left. But why else would there be blood entangled with the scents of kits and herbs?
A memory of dark tabby fur flashed in his mind. A recollection of small kits too weak to survive. An image of a small bundle of fur that pulled through and grew stronger and stronger while his powerful mother declined. It had been like she had offered all of her lifesource for the young kit, realizing in silence that the two could not both belong among the living together.
Goldtalon.
Sorrelsnap closed his eyes as the bitter memory of the molly who had granted Sorrelsnapโs and Jumpingjayโs wish to become parents. She had harbored life within her for the sake of the two toms, to allow them the chance at raising their own kits and starting a family of their own. Both he and Jumpingjay had been beyond thankful, beyond grateful, that the muscular molly had offered them the chance at raising a family. It had all been going so well at first, so smoothlyโฆ
Only one kit had pulled through, a tom so small that Sorrelsnap had had his doubts. A tom so small that even the bright and cheerful Jumpingjay had expressed concerns. Yet he had made it, he had pulled through. Their little Eaglekit. Their tiny little son.
And just like that, Goldtalon had passed on to the stars. Her decline had felt so sudden, so surprising. Hearing from Oakstreak that she had taken her final breath, hearing the mewls of distress coming from his sonโฆ
Grief turned to fury. Fury turned Sorrelsnap into a monster. He had turned his back on Eaglekit, on Jumpingjay. The family he had worked so hard for had almost crumbled to the ground. Moons of bitterness guarded his heart, not even the tom he loved so dearly able to chip away the shield inside him. Eventually Sorrelsnap had come around, had opened himself back up to his mate and their son. It had been rocky at first, reconnecting after moons of avoiding the cats he cared so deeply for, but they had patched things up. They had become a family once more, though it had never quite felt the same after Goldtalonโs passing.
In his lifetime he had known of too many mollies, too many kits, that had died. He hoped this wasnโt another instance of that tragedy replaying itself.
Getting up as quick as he did caused pain to shoot up his legs and deep into his bones, but gritting his teeth, he pushed past it, shaking his head. โIโm fine. Letโs get to camp.โ Before taking a step toward their home, he nodded toward the mouse in Cariboupawโs jaws. โYou did good.โ It wasnโt much by way of praise, but it was something. If the situation in camp wasnโt as dire as his brain was expecting, then he may go about giving the apprentice a little something more, letting her know he truly was impressed. Unfortunately, the scent of danger and kits held a bit more priority over the caught mouse.
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 27, 2024 16:39:59 GMT -5
HONEYSKIP
SNOWPAW, FOGPAW & BUCKPAW CAMP The golden mollyโs lips had half parted with a playful retort to her boy, when a small cloud with legs ambushed her. โOof,โ startles out of her before she can bite back the words. Buckpawโs collision nearly unbalanced her, but she remained steadfast for her little one. Her pretty face quickly melting from surprise into a motherโs gentle empathy - sweet as the substance she took her name from.
Buckpaw had nuzzled himself so close against her, the golden creams of their pelts had practically blended together. He, much like his brother, smelled of mountain air, fresh blood and new life. The both of them had the slight, shell-shocked expression of youngsters whoโd seen too much that day for their minds to quite fathom yet, their exhaustion and the stresses of the day so thick on their pelts Honeyskip was tempted to wash the both of them clean of it. Until they smelled of her once again.
Oh my brave, darling boys.
No matter how old her sons got - whenever they needed her she would be there for them.
With a sweep of her plumed tail she tugs Snowpaw into place beside his brother, against the solidity of her body. Her golden frame curling around the two of them until it acted as a shield from the world beyond, as she so often had when they were little more than newborns curled up beside her.
She brokered no room for arguments, not that either apprentice seemed much in the mood to offer her one. Though when the matter was done she might hear an earful about being an embarrassment to young Snowpaw in front of a particular, pretty young thing, for now the little family melted into one another.
In that moment, her mothering instinct so strong that chances were Fogpaw could have asked to snuggle close and sheโd have let him.
โIt sounds like,โ she said, straightening but not pulling away from the two young ones. โYou two are part of the reason ConiferClan boasts four new lives,โ pride, quiet but shimmering weighs down her words. โWhich is no small feat little ones, your mama knows.โ
She leans down to swipe her tongue across twin pairs of pale ears, drinking in each scent like it might well be her last chance at it. โI think youโve both earned something tasty to fill your bellies, and the rest of the afternoon to rest.โ
She was no deputy, but would have happily fought anyone who thought to challenge her. |
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Post by Tealraven on Jun 27, 2024 18:17:14 GMT -5
FOGPAW interacting with snowpaw, honeyskip, buckpaw // in camp
Fogpaw looked up at Honeyskipโs suggestion to keep his voice down, lest the other apprentices start seeking out hawks of their own to battle for a warrior name. He flattened his ears and his eyes grew wide with horror at the thought. โOh โ dear StarClan, no, absolutely not. I โ I just meant Snowpaw!โ He really hoped his fellows wouldnโt try to copy Snowpawโs heroics. He certainly wouldnโt; whenever Fogpaw went hunting with his mentor, he flinched when a large birdโs shadow crossed his path and dove for cover if it swooped too low. I have other plans, anyway, he told himself, resisting the urge to glance at the leaderโs den. Thereโs more than one way to earn a name.
A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention to Buckpaw approaching. The medicine cat apprentice looked halfway dead, dull-eyed and stumbling with exhaustion. Fogpaw whisked his tail away from Snowpawโs shoulders and stood up as Buckpaw nuzzled into Honeyskip's side, his words muffled by her soft fur. A moment later she tucked Snowpaw up against her as well. She curled herself around her sons and murmured quietly to them. There was something wistful in Fogpawโs green gaze as he observed the little family. Was there anyone in his life he felt that close to, family or otherwise? Would anyone feel that way about him if he'd come back from fighting a hawk? Maybe someday.
Fogpaw blinked, realized he was staring, and all of a sudden felt oddly self-conscious, like he was intruding on a private moment. His cheeks warmed with embarrassment. โWell, Iโm โ Iโm glad youโre both okay,โ he said with a nod to each of the brothers. He desperately wanted to know more, but there would be time for that later. He started backing away, unsure of how to politely end this conversation and casually slink away without being totally awkward. โIโll just, umโฆโ
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 27, 2024 19:43:18 GMT -5
SnowpawApprentice * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; ladylantsov Tealraven Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowpaw couldn't help but purr happily as his mother and littermate curled in closely to him. His mother was always a welcome presence, despite her embarassing remarks at times. Her fur was warm and soft, unlike the chill from the forest they had been prowling around in for so long. Usually he will still be about, conversating and joking around, but he was the definition of exhausted. "I promise I'll tell you all about it, Fogpaw...I think I just need some rest first." He called to his friend. He barely managed a glance his way, but when Buckpaw spoke he had the whole of his attention. "Really?" He called back incredulously.
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Post by whispering on Jun 28, 2024 17:36:05 GMT -5
Eagleswoop followed into the shelter of their den, gently leaning down to reunite his kits with their sister.
welcome home, Briarstar murmured. For a moment, his anger with the stubborn she-cat melted away like ice in the first thaw of newleaf. Warmed by her tenderness, her rare act of being gentle towards their children. A side of her that rarely came to the surface. Even in their most secluded moments, Briarstar always carried a guard. She wasn't the most emotional mate, not that Eagleswoop was asking her to be. He made up for it on his part.
This, however, was completely foreign- a new journey for the new parents.
Looking down at the dark bundles of fur was a strange feeling. They were responsible for these tiny kittens. These little lives that they created. They would be accountable for bestowing all their values and virtues, monitoring their safety, and teaching them the way of their lives in ConiferClan. Until they reached six moons and became apprentices, then it would be up to their mentors. I wish I could mentor you all. Surely there was no cat better to teach his kits than himself? But he knew Briarstar would never allow it. Or would she? Was she just as selfish over these tiny lives as he?
Eagleswoop was deaf to all the whispers out in the clearing. It was Oakstreak's outrage that snapped him from his trance. Whipping his head around, he saw the tension between the old cat and his mate. So strong, it made his fur begin to prickle with unease. Queens didn't have to announce their pregnancy until the second moon at the latest. Telling the medicine cat was just to make sure things were going smoothly. Briarstar had been sure everything was fine. Until it wasn't. Which happened out of her rash act of protecting them from a hawk. Not even Oakstreak could stop his mate when her mind was made up.
The old tom seemed to accept her explanation as he looked at their tiny children, stunned into silence. Then he went on more quietly, Eagleswoop had to strain his ears to hear.
Yes, Buckpaw and Snowpaw both showed a lot of courage. A dark cloud loomed over him as he remembered the one terrible con about Briarstar's kitting. Perhaps that was an incident not even the most skilled medicine cat could fix. Sometimes, things just go wrong. Goldtalon's voice echoed in his mind. A memory he'd never forget.
Turning his gaze back to his mewling, hungry kits. (Briarstar had seemingly placed their needs on hold to address the Clan) he sighed. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. To fall back into the darkness of his depression. No matter how tempting those shadows were. These kits needed him, as he needed Jumpingjay and Sorrelsnap when his mother left.
This was his second chance. His chance to provide a better life than the one he had. These kits would never know the loneliness of the loss of a mother and all your siblings. The rage of a father who abandoned them. No. Eagleswoop would be there, he would be a great father and more. No cat would be able to take this chance, this opportunity, away from him.
"As long as I am alive, I will protect you." He vowed quietly to his kits, sweeping his body around them until their mother returned. "You can depend on your father until my last drop of blood."
โฐโฐโฐ
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 28, 2024 18:48:23 GMT -5
- Timeskip: approximately 1 week forward
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 28, 2024 19:20:50 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
Open By the Leaderโs Den For the first time in what felt like a century -though in actuality had barely been more than a pawful of sunrises, Briarstar woke to just her own company in the depths of the Leaderโs den.
Well, as alone as the four youngsters who had spent each of their days insisting on being as close as physically possible to her as they could be, would allow. Each morning so far sheโd woken to someone fussing over either her or the little ones. Making sure Briarstar was recovering well from the loss of her first life, that the little ones were feeding and thriving as they ought to.
By all accounts they were as healthy and happy as could be, though small due to being born at least half a moon before their time. Looking at their four little forms now - Briarstar could still hardly fathom just how little they were, with Eagleswoopโs help each has been bestowed their name. Each named for little critters, save for the little Tom whoโd entered this world declaring his fury at the indignity of it - and frankly had hardly shut up ever since.
As much as she preferred her independence, it couldnโt be said Briarstar disliked the recent attention. She wouldnโt put up with it much longer, but only now, a week later, was she beginning to feel more like herself again. Though the bone deep aching hadnโt quite faded, she woke these days feeling like sheโd only fallen from the hollow edge, not off the entire mountain.
It didnโt mean she hadnโt woken hungry, though, and chuckles to herself that apparently an apprentice hadnโt been asked to bring the queenโs breakfast just yet.
โWhat a riffraff youโve been born into,โ the molly murmurs as she lowers her muzzle to sniff gently at the little ones, her purr as involuntary as her heartbeat as she drinks in their milky scents. โTheir leader takes a quarter of a moon off to raise little warriors, and the world falls apart. Truly, what have things come to.โ
Briarstarโs jaws part with a yawn, her dark furred form uncurling and stretching. Each movement careful to avoid disturbing the pile of sleeping kits. Sleeping and eating was all they seemed to do at the moment, though if medicine cats and other queens both were anyone to believe - theyโd be due to open their eyes soon. And after that it would be only a matter of time before they started stumbling around her camp on those chubby, uncoordinated paws.
Hunger gnawed at her stomach but exhaustion made the freshkill pile feel like it was several miles away. Her paws leaden even at the thought of gathering beneath her and moving. โYour four need to hurry up and open your eyes,โ she murmurs. โThen you can collect your mamaโs breakfast, huh, seems like a fair compromise for constantly filling your bellies.โ By the Stars sheโd never realised how much kits ate.
When, disappointingly, none of her children showed any signs of suddenly springing open their eyes and gaining a hundred times worth more coordination than theyโd shown in the space of a week, Briarstar chuckles. โMamas got to do everything herself, then?โ
She finds her paws - delighted when sheโs not met with the mewls of protest sheโs grown used to at this point. If sheโs quick enough, she can be back before her youngsters have even realised sheโs gone, she slips out into the Camp true and proper. |
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Post by aquatail on Jun 29, 2024 0:56:20 GMT -5
Silverfern
She was sitting in the nursery, listening the sound of briarstar grumbling and laughing. Soon that will be me she thought. Her belly was bulging with her kits and it was very uncomfortable to sit or lie down anywhere. As briarstar left she felt an intense pain in her belly. She growled. Pain twisted through her stomach flipping it inside and out. Her body convulsed. The pain grew worse. She yowled and pushed and a tiny tortoiseshell she cat was now in the nest (Orchidkit). Only one kit and she was already exhausted but the sight of her new daughter kept her pushing on. She knew she had to lick her to make her warm so she started licking her tiny mewling body, before she was rudely interrupted by another convulsion.
I plan for possumkit to be second.
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 29, 2024 12:24:09 GMT -5
SLATESTORM
ASTERFROST CAMP Slatestorm had spent his morning reinforcing the entrances and various chambers of the warriors den with a the help of a pawful of clanmates. It was dirty work, scooping away loose earth and dirt, and patting down what could remain into compact walk-ways. This kind of camp-maintenance couldn't particularly be called glamorous, but soon the cold would leave the earth beneath their paws frozen. Anything that might need fixing postponed until a new leaf thaw that already felt a millennia away.
By the time the four of them stepped back to admire their handiwork, they were breathing heavy. Any inch of colour across any of their bodies was now practically drowned out by loose soil and pebbles that littered early-leafbare thick coats. It clung so heavy and dark to Slatestorm in particular that it felt to the warrior like he was carrying around a second pelt entirely.
Beyond that- the den had recently taken on a new occupant in SnowXXX. And with several older apprentices vying for their opportunity to be next, it was a good idea to ensure the den was in good shape.
What heโd hoped to be a minor renovation had quickly expanded into quite a bit of work the further they delved into it. Hours had passed as they worked - honestly before theyโd realised it, the sun was nearly at its highest point. But finally they were done.
The filth of it made his skin crawl, but he was thankful to see it done.
โThatโll do for now,โ he dismisses his companions with a twitch of his dark, plumed tail, watching them disperse, mostly in the direction of the fresh kill pile in an effort to fill hungry bellies. In the coming days it would become clear if there was anything theyโd missed, but he expected it to be mostly aesthetic or minor for now. Things he could easily enough fix with his own two paws.
Mostly he was pleased the majority of the work was finished within the morning. Theyโd evacuated the den to allow for it early, and had been met with a great range of furious grumbling from several of the warriors, particularly those whoโd been on the dayโs dawn patrol.
Muscles aching, and body hot enough to chase off the of the morning chill, Slatestorm blinks, eyes stinging as he slips from the dark of the warriorโs den and into the morning light. His jaws part, breathing slowly returning to something more even, his eyes darting around camp. Searching - as had become second nature by now, for the familiar colours of his molly. Though doubting that sheโd want anything to do with him this coated in much.
Even well-groomed he was largely surprised she wanted anything to do with him.
That he can begin to fix at least, the Tom settles into a comfortable spot, and begins making his coat tidy once more. |
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jun 29, 2024 13:03:44 GMT -5
Beaverpelt
Beaverpeltโs week had been peaceful after the ordeal of the eagle. He had decided to stick to camp for the time being, and it was paying off. Days of laying out in the sun, and moments of popping into Briarstarโs den to check on the kits. He loved them. Granted, they hadnโt opened their eyes yet, so they were not really more than cute little squiggly things. But he was looking forward to telling them stories and getting to know them as they grew up. He was there at their birth - and would be by their side as long as he could.
He passed out of the elderโs den, eyes narrowing against the sunlight of the new day. As he walked further out, he paused momentarily to stretch his limbs. The rest had done him good, and they didnโt ache nearly as much today. After pausing to give himself a quick wash, he proceeded towards the medicine den. โOakstreak?โ He called out as he entered. He hadnโt been able to spend time with his son in a few sunrises, and was looking forward to having time outside of the context of medicine cat-elder, and instead as father and son.
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Post by whispering on Jun 29, 2024 18:13:07 GMT -5
"Come and walk with me, little eagle. We're going on an adventure!"
Eagleswoop padded through the forest. His muscular shoulders pushed through the undergrowth, his large feet crunching on the dew-frosted ground. A squirrel and a mouse swung from his jaws.
Every morning since his kits had been born, the warrior woke before dawn and ventured out to the forest. Not that he'd get much sleep. His nights were as rough as before the kits' arrival, maybe worse. Before dawn, Goldtalon would call to him, and he would follow. The warrior would amble, aimlessly, through the trees until he reached the brook. There, a scene would unfold; his last memorable moment with the great she-warrior. Then he would leave to hunt and return to camp.
The tom tried his best to avoid falling victim to his plaguing anxiety. His heartbreaking yearning to see his mother. Even his worst battle scars had been easier to heal than the loss of his mother. The scar that took a piece of his heart with it.
But, he could not deny he was more deprived than he'd ever been. Waking at all times of the night to make sure his kits were still breathing, that Briarstar was still breathing. That he would not wake again to a cold body against his fur. Then he would relax to find everything as perfect as he left it. Newtkit, Loonkit, Lousekit, and Whistlekit. And his Briarstar. He could not have been more grateful to have them. But there was still that tugging feeling, the guilt that Goldtalon could not be here to join him. To meet these tiny cats that were kin to her. That Briarstar had nearly lost her life bearing them.
A great sigh heaved from Eagleswoop, sending a cloud of his breath into the air. It had been a while since he struggled so severely with his depression. How could something that happened seasons ago, still sting so fresh in his heart?
He shouldered through the camp entrance, pausing to sweep the clearing with amber eyes. His mate was making her away to the fresh-kill pile. The warrior didn't hesitate before trotting forward to intercept her. He dropped his prey, nudging the mouse towards her. "For you, my star." Briefly, he stepped forward to butt his head against her shoulder. "Still warm."
"I'll join you and the kits after I've visited my father." Eagleswoop went on, retrieving the squirrel before padding to the elder's den. Did his mate notice that something was off? They hadn't had a chance to talk, just the two of them. Between the kits and everyday warrior duties, and Eagleswoop's night terrors, there was no time.
A muffled meow of greeting sounded as he entered the dull den. Musky with the scent of earth and, well, elders. Eagleswoop blinked his eyes to adjust the gloomy lighting until he could make out a scrawny, ginger shape. Once, lean muscles rippled beneath his father's pelt. Perhaps they still would be had he not begged Sorrelsnap to retire, for his own sake. He dropped the squirrel beside the old cat, leaning down to swipe his tongue across his head. "I've come with breakfast."
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 29, 2024 21:39:49 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X]  --------------------------------------------------------------------- What had only been a week felt like an eternity for the borderline elderly Medicine Cat. For many moons he had dreamed of this moment, Buckpaw becoming Bucktail. Just a few moons ago, he would have moved into the elder's den as soon as the ceremony ended. His mind had been altered in just the span of one dream. The Starclan she-cat, who had graced him with her visit, had altered everything. Many cats had thought he had caught a fever, due to how often he would stare into the vast nothingness just to get her starry shape in his mind's eye once again. His once frequent visits with Paintedmask had become scarce, and he would on the daily peek into Briarstar's den,awaiting the moment he could warn his leader of the plot Paintedmask had made. His steps had grown even more labored than before, the weight of guilt greatly reducing his movements to what a fraction of what they once were...and the cold weather causing his old joints to ache certainly didn't help.
Oakstreak had kept himself confined to camp over the week, and today was no different. He was curled in his nest, desperately trying to relive the moment that his long lost love had returned to him again. His trance was deep, but the raspy mew of his father seemed to snap him out of it. As the old tom blinked the bleariness out of his eyes, he met his father's gaze. Sometimes it made Oakstreak worried just how old his father looked, but he had learned to accept it over the moons. He was practically an old cat himself, of course his father wasn't the picture of youth that he had been when both the Oak and the Ceader branches had once stood tall and united. "Beaverpelt," He croaked back simply,"Is the cold weather bothering your old bones too?" He rose to a shaky stand as his Medicine Cat instincts were still inclined to be ready in case his father was in need of any herbs.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; open! --------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears had always been excitable when kits were about, and when she returned to camp and heard the news of Brairstar's litter, well, there wasn't a cat in Starclan that could have stopped her from coming to see them. New lives in the clan seemed to light a fire under the she-cat's paws. All throughout the week she had volunteered for a hunting patrol whenever Gingerflame called for one, refusing to stop the hunt until she caught at least a little something so the new kits would never go hungry. It was the mother in her. She was also quite pleased at Snowtalon and Bucktail's naming ceremony, thinking of the young cat's actions as the pinicle of what it meant to uphold the warrior and medicine cat codes. Despite her increased zeal for warrior life burning anew in her, she still had yet to kick a certain bad habit.
Sleeping in. The pale she-cat was not happy to be ushered out of her nest the many times the warrior den was being remade. Of course she helped, but most cats were well aware of her unusually grumpy demeanor during the endeavor. Currently she was still blinking the tiredness from her pale eyes as she looked out at the camp. There would be so many possibilities that awaited her for the day...once she got over her morning grumps.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SunnynoseWarrior * 41 moons * He/Him * tagged; open!  --------------------------------------------------------------------- Sunnynose was among the group of cats who had been pleasantly surprised at the news of his leader's litter. He was under the belief that if Briarstar and Eagleswoop had waited for much longer, they probably would never have had kits at all. They were made for each other, and it was a sickeningly lovely display for all since the moment they had announced their matehood. There was one thing that Sunnynose wasn't happy about however, and that was the spectacle that the refurnishing of the warrior's den had become. He had been one of the cats who had helped tirelessly, and at this point he was practically sick of arranging things around. He also had somehow managed to get edged out of the spot he had wanted around some of the available she-cats, his intentions not exactly well hidden. Instead he had managed to snag a spot nearby his daughter, Lemonleaf. He would not complain, as he had always enjoyed his daughter's company.
Now he sat in the clearing of the camp, looking at all of the cats milling about. He wondered if anycat would chose him for a patrol or even just to share tongues. The tom was desperate to do something, anything, other than mess with the warrior's den for another moment longer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon  --------------------------------------------------------------------- What a week! The young tom had gained his warrior name alongside his brother, one of his greatest accomplishments yet. He remembered just how excited he was, and how loudly their parents had yowled in delight. Snowtalon. A perfect name! And Bucktail, a simple and yet powerful name that suited his brother perfectly. It was almost painful to sit in silence for his vigil that night, especially because his mind was buzzing from it all. When entering the warrior's den for the first time, he was shocked to see that his presence had created such a fuss. He almost felt bad about it, but he was assured that the renovations would be necessary for when even more apprentices had graduated. Speaking of which...
The tom hadn't been able to shake the claws of guilt that were pinning him as he had looked into the crowd during that ceremony. Rattlepaw. He knew she was happy for him, it was a rare glimmer of something other than sadness from her, and yet he couldn't help but feel sad when he pondered it. She was still an apprentice, still unable to motivate herself out of the funk that had always seemed to cling to her for most of the time Snowtalon had known her. He sheepishly had been avoiding her since then, not wanting to upset the frequently gloomy molly anymore, but a fire in the young toms heart had blazed brightly that morning. The almost all white tom had woken up at the crack of sunrise, his paws carrying him to a familiar flower patch in the mountains. He remembered a distant memory of Oriolehop biting off some flowers at the stems for his mother, Honeyskip during a leafbare where she had caught a chill. He remembered how loudly she had purred when his father had decorated her nest with them. It's just something I like to do to make her happy when she's not feeling her best. He recalled his father's (at the time grossly adorable) words explaining when he had asked. Now, it was his turn. He had removed the pastel pink bell-shaped flowers from where they grew and carried them in his jaws delicately as he made his way back to camp. The smell of them was disgusting, but much like with how he put up with it when Briarstar's life was in danger, he thought now that a bit of a stink was well worth it to show the she-cat he still cared after how skittish he had been. His eyes scanned the campgrounds relentlessly, desperately searching for the she-cat who had consumed his thoughts since the moment he had woken up.
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 30, 2024 4:45:15 GMT -5
To the side of Camp, Honeyskip watched the warriorโs den renovation with ill-disguised amusement. Each time sheโd see either Slatestorm or one of his ilk withdraw from the den sheโd think to herself surely they canโt get any more filthy! Only to be proven wrong time and time again. In truth, the molly was quite grateful she hadnโt been chosen to aid with the clear-out. She felt quite sure it would be Greenleafs at the earliest before she had her pelt looking clean again, judging by the look of similarly long-pelted Slatestorm.
Instead sheโd helped gather enough moss that she wasnโt sure there was a tree in a fifty foxlength radius of camp, not left entirely bald of the stuff. Whereas her clanmates grumbled and groaned that it wasnโt necessary, Honeyskip was more than happy to help.
Stars knew theyโd soon need it.
Between an apprenticeโs den that, even with the recent graduations was all but bursting at the seams. And - more excitingly, for the first time in more than a season - ConiferClan camp was home to new lives. Little strangers that would soon be leaving their paw prints here there and everywhere, would become familiar faces soon enough. As unexpected as their arrival had been to the whole clan - already it was hard for the golden molly to remember a time before Briarstarโs little ones.
A mother herself, though she didnโt understand the choices Briarstar had made, she wouldnโt hold them against the littlest members of the Clan.
Yes it meant more mouths to feed, but just as her Clan hadnโt minded diligently caring for her as she fed her little ones, Honeyskip found it a pleasure rather than a chore to ensure the youngest of their members would grow and thrive. The molly knew well that it took a village to raise kittens.
Their presence, though mostly confined to the sweet little mewls eminating from the lewderโs den for now made her reminisce on when her own sons had been that little, now full grown toms boasting their full name. A lifetime gone since they were hers and hers alone, fidgety paws that drummed at her ribs, to two proud young toms who were both credits to their clan. Snowtalon and Bucktail! Even a week later her heart felt fit to burst with pride.
Part of her, something sheโd spent the moon since Silverfernโs announcement, and the week since Briarstarโs kitting actively burying as deep as she could, wanted another litter. Sheโd been so afraid the first time, so bogged down by the knowledge of just how many lives had been lost to what sheโd been promised was the most natural process in the world.
A lie definitely coined by a Tom whoโd never known the explicit agony of kitbearing.
That anxiety had hardly left her until her kits were apprentices. Sheโd hardly believed it when they were born and thrived, not withered away like so many sheโd seen. Honeyskip was widely considered one of few lucky ones. Would StarClan gift her that same luck again?
Could her want for more take her away from what she already had?
She shakes the rattling thoughts from her mind, it seems like the warriors den work is done. Her eyes searching for a familiar, dark ginger form. Between their sons earning their full names and a new litter of kits to feed - the mates had barely chance to brush cheeks nowadays. She catches sight of the warrior, and weaves between clanmates until she can butt her head against the underside of his chin.
โMorning,โ her purr is a sweet, rumbling sound. Sheโd parted her jaws to say something further, when a visibly rattled Eagleswoop returns to camp, prey dangling from his jaws. The mollyโs gaze softens, a mixture of amusement and pity both. She remembered that stress well, she dips her head in greeting to the older Tom, and only when heโs surely out of hearing distance. She shakes her head to Oriolehop, โI think that oneโs going to go grey from stress if heโs not careful.โ |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 30, 2024 15:27:51 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; ladylantsov whispering --------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears knew of only one thing that could consistently lighten her mood, and it was the sight of little bundles of kittens. She willed herself to pad toward the leader's den, giving a meow to signal her presence before entering. Immediately her eyes began to sparkle in delight upon once again witnessing the newest lives within the clan. "Good morning Briarstar. How are the little ones doing this morning?" The usually air-headed molly suddenly began to think of the chill that had swept through her fur upon entering the den. While she was sure the nest their mother had made for the kits was plenty warm, Burntears couldn't help but worry if her leader had a hard time staying warm during this time of year. The former queen blinked in Eagleswoop's direction as well. If she had been any other cat she might have taken the hint that they might have wanted some privacy, but the lure of tiny mewls was too hypnotic.
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 30, 2024 18:39:49 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
BURNTEARS By the Leaderโs Den The molly had hardly made it a foxlengths from her den before her mate appeared from seemingly thin air, By now Eagleswoop had become so used to her, that anticipating her needs and whims was almost a sixth sense by now. He comes close enough that the scent of open mountain and fresh kill floods her senses. โThank you,โ her mouth waters at the scent, keeping four hungry mouths satisfied was harder than most warrior work sheโd known.
A week after birth and she was still getting used to letting her Clan help her.
Sitting in camp, looking after newborns and having her clanmates wait on her wasnโt something she was built for.
Only a week of confinement, keeping close enough to her kits that sheโd hear them if they needed her - which was, naturally, quite a lot, was beginning to wear her thin.
Already she longed to stretch her legs again.
But she could hardly glance at campโs exit without either Eagleswoop, Oakstreak or her own father sensing her intentions, and chasing her back toward her nest. Sure she was tired, but she was a warrior - that was a part of the life. Now she was just tired and cooped up.
But whereas she saw leaving camp as a chance to release some pent up energy, she was left with the sense that her mate used it as an escape. Not from her, not from their kits - though she might at least understand the need for one or both of those. He sought escape from something else, something quieter, and it seemed like he was failing.
Briarstar knew better than most what it was to keep something hidden from the ones she loved, knew how it sat on the soul. So she doesnโt press her mate, instead she nuzzles his shoulder. โIโll see you soon,โ then obediently slunk back toward her den and nest, her little ones.
Briarstar had just settled down when there comes a mreow at the entrance to her den that draws her gaze away from her meal. The molly stiffens, her first instinct still to protect at all costs - that motherly instinct still not quite used to letting others near her vulnerable litter. Hell, the part of her that preferred her own company was still trying to get used to letting others near her.
Her den had known more visitors in the week of life these kits had been alive, than her whole moons as leader. And she doubted the little leaderโs den had been home to many, if any, litters before her own.
โGood morning, Burntears,โ her reply is friendly enough, already quite used to the pretty former queen coming in to fawn over her young children. Not that Briarstar blamed the fluffy warrior seven the stoic molly was willing to admit her younglings were rather cute. The dark furred mother uncurls her body, letting Burntears get a closer look - possibly her thousandth so far. The little ones mewl a little at the loss of her immediate warmth, but one of Briarstarโs first lessons in this strange thing known as motherhood, was that kits mewled as often as they breathed.
โTheyโre still feeling shy,โ Briarstar muses, allowing herself a bite of the mouse, purring slightly as the metallic taste of blood floods her mouth. โA week old and not one of them seems to want to open their eyes yet.โ
Admittedly they had been born early, but sheโd known kittens to open their eyes as early as three sunrises. These four, however, seemed happiest in the depths of their motherโs belly fur. And showed no intentions of changing that any time soon. |
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#ACEBF6
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Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jun 30, 2024 18:48:09 GMT -5
Sorrelsnap ยป
A warriorโs duty was to their Clan, not to the elders that lay within the comfortable mosses of the impenetrable underground burrow that made the resting place of those retired. It was not in the repertoire of a warrior to tend to those who had witnessed so much and lived for so long that their paws no longer stepped outside daily. It was the apprentices that tended to the elders. The youth of the Clan were responsible for those who no longer served as warriors. Cats barely out of the nursery, cats who had been so freshly born themselves, had to care for those so far removed from their days of youth that they were teetering on the edge of death. It was an odd balance, the fine line between the living and the dead. Apprentices tending to the elders was supposed to teach them respect and humility, but Sorrelsnap saw it as a tease, a cruel joke. It was a solemn reminder that he would never be that young, that spry again. Rather, he would soon pass on and join the ancestors.
Heavy pawsteps alerted the tom that some cat was approaching. Sorrelsnap shifted from his resting place, slowly easing his way onto his paws. Jaws clenched as bone grated against bone; the newly named Bucktail had visited him earlier this morning, a bundle of herbs wrapped delicately in his jaws. The ginger and white elder had taken his daily dose of herbs to ease his pain, but between being stuck in camp and the cold weather, Sorrelsnap didnโt think he would ever feel at ease in his own body ever again.
Briefly he wondered if the medicine cat was returning or if a bored apprentice was headed his way. Perhaps it was Cariboupaw, he mused. More than once he had caught himself thinking of the young molly, silently concerned about her training and how she was progressing. With a mentor such as Beenose the poor apprentice surely wasnโt learning much. Maybe if he found the energy and didnโt feel so stiff in the next day or two the elder would track the young cat down and check in with her. He still had to rightfully praise her for her catch some days ago, his praise to her that day coming off as quick and inarticulate. With the shocking surprise that awaited him and Cariboupaw back at camp, Sorrelsnap had had no time to truly celebrate the apprenticeโs kill.
Soft words coming from an all too familiar voice roused Sorrelsnap the rest of the way. The sound of his only son was followed by his scent, and then, with eyes beginning to cloud over, he took in the sight of his son. His only surviving kit.
It was not the squirrel that his mind focused on. Perhaps his mouth yearned for the delicate meat, but his mind and heart were reaching for Eagleswoop, calling out to the tom he had watched grow from a tiny newborn into a proud adult. Duties had kept Eagleswoop from the eldersโ den, father and son having not been able to speak for some days now. But now Eagleswoop finally had the time. He finally had the chance to speak with his aging father who was withering away in the underground den of the old.
It wasnโt a warm greeting between father and son that slipped from the old ginger tomโs mouth. โHow long were you planning on keeping those kits of yours a secret? Couldnโt care to tell the cat who raised you?โ Gruff as he was, there was no doubt that Sorrelsnap loved his son. Eagleswoop meant the world to the elder, but he would be lying if he said it didnโt hurt his ancient heart that his own son had kept the knowledge of grandkits from him up until their birth. Sorrelsnap realized that they had been born early, but not so early that their existence couldnโt have been announced to at least Sorrelsnap.
Rattlepaw ยป
โDoes father talk with you?โ
Over and over again her sisterโs question from the other day reverberated in the young mollyโs mind, a mantra that she could not stop no matter how hard she tried. She wanted it to stop. She wanted that question to silence itself into nonexistence. It had no place taking up so much space in her mind. Had no place occupying her every single waking thought. Why did she even care so much if her father was speaking with her or not?
Rattlepawโs chest tightened. She shivered, not from the cold, but from acknowledgement. Her father had scared her at times, but despite his ambition and murderous instinct, he had been the only parent to truly love her.
Or so she thought. If he loved her, truly loved her, would he be speaking to her as he was to Silentshadow?
Doubts circled all around her, a pack of wolves foaming at the mouth, slobbering at the jowls, licking their lips. They were eager to strike their fangs into her flesh. Her tender, thin flesh. The pointed molly huffed, a spark of something like morbid amusement flashing in her pale blue eyes.
Nothing but skin and bone, Rattlepaw wouldnโt even make a meal big enough for a mouse let alone a wolf pack.
It had been hunger that drove the young feline out from hiding. She was still within the shadows, not apparent to the naked eye by any means, but her skeletal figure no longer remained completely out of sight.
And speaking of sightโฆ
Awaiting the arrival of the metaphorical wolves to come and take her down, Rattlepaw was intensely aware of movement from the campโs entrance. A familiar white pelt, orange dusting ears and tail, grabbed the apprenticeโs attention. Her heart thudded a little faster against her ribcage.
Snowtalon.
Newly graduated and moved to the warriorsโ den, Rattlepaw had seen less and less of the tom lately. Not that she was too saddened by his promotion, but she had to admit that she missed his bubbly laughter and sunshine personality. He was a hardworking ConiferClanner, a cat who easily brought joy no matter where he went. She was proud he had been made a warrior after his heroic feat, but she missed him. She missed him all the while knowing she could never follow him onto the path of being a warrior.
Before she was even aware her paws had started to move, Rattlepaw was a mere tail-length from the Clanโs newest warrior.
Was it just her or did Snowtalon look bigger and stronger? The last time she had lay eyes upon him he had been her height and somewhat lanky, but now that she looked at him she had to crane her head upward. Sleek muscle danced underneath his snowy white pelt. Rattlepaw shuffled on her feet. Snowtalon looked older, stronger, more confident.
She swallowed, throat dry.
Why couldnโt she be like that?
โโฆH-hi,โ she murmured, voice weak, raspy, not used for days. Not used since her outing with Silentshadow.
Rattlepawโs tail twitched ever so slightly. Did Snowtalon even want to speak with her? He appeared to be on the search for some cat, and the odd flowers dangling from his jaws were a clear indication that he wanted to meet a special some cat.
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jun 30, 2024 20:07:29 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; ladylantsov--------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears gave a thoughtful hum in reponse to her leader's observation, giving the kits a good look over before she spoke. "They will," She began optimistically,"They are still so very tiny. I know it is easy to worry, so I won't ask you not to. It's mother's instinct." Burntears calmly sat down in the den about a foxlength from Briarstar, still close enough to observe the kits without being too close. "I'm sure when they open their eyes the wait will be worth it. Getting to see how strangely they react to all the new things they are seeing is one of the great joys of being a mother."
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- The world seemed to slow around him as Rattlepaw slowly slunk into the light. She was still beautiful, still somber. She never seemed to change, and that was a comfort to him in a way. He just wished this was enough to take the gloom away from her for even just the day. He set the flowers in front of her,making sure to delicately sneak one behind her earfur. She looked stunning with it, the soft pink adding a flash of color to her pale fur. Itwas enough to make it hard for even the boisterous young cat to speak. "Hi. I...brought these for you." He admitted sheepishly. The twinkle of affection didn't leave his eyes, even when he looked away.
He started to wonder if this was a good idea. If she would be willing to talk to him. If she even wanted to talk, or she had simply come out to end their friendship. He gulped a bit before speaking up once more,"I'm sorry we haven't been able to talk a lot since the ceremony. I wanted to talk to you, I just was...well, scared you wouldn't want to. Since, ya'know, I'm not gonna be in the apprentice den anymore."
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Post by ladylantsov on Jun 30, 2024 21:41:48 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
BURNTEARS By the Leaderโs Den What Burntears said made sense - of course it did. In her 60 moons there had been no kit that hadnโt, eventually, peeled open their eyes. Chances were, hers wouldnโt be the first ever that simply decided the sense of sight was entirely unnecessary. โThank you,โ there is a genuine tone of gratitude in the mollys voice.
She was grateful to any mother that might offer her reassurance or guidance.
StarClan harboured enough of ConiferClanโs mothers to know there werenโt very many left around to ask.
Briarstar letโs out a slightly rueful chuckle when her companion reads her like an open book, clocking the new motherโs worry like she wore it as clearly to see as her dark pelt. โDo all mothers worry the same amount, or am I especially pathetic?โ
The medicine cats would testify readily on the fact that Briarstar had returned to camp, at least thrice, bleeding and half dead. And that sheโd insisted another member of her patrol be assisted before her own wounds, all long before she had 9 lives to her name to wittle away. Now the fearsome molly spent her days worrying whether her little ones were feeding enough, breathing okay, warm, and all other kinds of concerns.
Motherhood had - hopefully temporarily - turned the older molly soft, it seemed.
Her brown-speckled ears twitch as she listens to Burntears continue. And it gives Briarstar pause for thought.
How would the little ones react to the world around them?
Seeing camp- the place that would keep them safe until they could meet the territory on their own accords. Seeing the mountains, the towering structures that they might one day know as their homes. Seeing their fatherโs face, that big, broad and boyish grin of a Tom whoโd spoken to them so eagerly, from their very first movements, their very first heartbeats. How little eyes would widen with wonder and excitement, Briarstar can hardly suffocate her sweet purr of affection.
But any fire of pride those thoughts might have sparked, is doused quite thoroughly when she realises one day soon her little ones would open their eyes, and see not just the world. But the molly they were stuck with calling mama. The scarred, torn up face, the broken well worn body.
It hardly seemed fair.
Something like guilt underlines the careful way Briarstar ducks her head the second time, to lap gently at the small bodies that seek her warmth so eagerly. Like sheโs not so sure theyโll want her to be so close once their eyes are open, and they too can see their mother as the monster she is.
โMaybe they can keep their eyes closed a little longer.โ |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 1, 2024 0:09:32 GMT -5
BurntearsWarrior * 36 moons * She/Her * tagged; ladylantsov --------------------------------------------------------------------- Burntears couldn't help but purr in amusement at the new mother's worries. She remembered her own fears and doubts, all of which had been soothed by her dearly departed mate. "It's the most normal thing to feel as a mother. All of the love you hold for your little ones naturally makes you only want to protect them even more." If she hadn't known better, she would remark at just how sweet it was to see the serious, battle hardened warrior care so deeply. Internally though, she was filled with warmth at getting the rare opportunity to see this side of Briarstar. The whole of the time she knew her she had been distant and cold. Harsh, even. This was a very welcome sight. "The worry never goes away...it just becomes more normal. I sometimes still have to remember to breathe everytime one of my kits goes out on a patrol and they're apprentices." Suddenly, her eyes darkened as she remembered the terrible feeling she had held onto just moments before her mate and kit had vanished into the flaming forest together, never to be seen again. Her front paws shuffled nervously underneath her as she tried to blink away the painful memories.
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Lesbian
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Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 1, 2024 8:16:42 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
It had been more shocking to Rattlepaw to hear Briarstar call forth Snowpaw and introduce him as a warrior in front of the Clan than she had been when the leader returned to camp with four tiny bundles. Truthfully she couldnโt have cared less about the new lives that were curled away in the leaderโs den - not that the sight of kits didnโt bring some sort of joy to her, but because she knew that they too would surpass her. Seasons from now they would be warriors and she would still be a mere โpaw. An apprentice. A useless lump of fur that could do no more than serve her elders and clean out dens. If she remained within the Clan that far into the future. Dreams of leaving and throwing away her fatherโs teachings and her motherโs criticisms danced about her mind like prancing deer in the forest. The idea was tantalizing, as mouth-watering as sinking teeth into warm prey. Her heart wished to act on the urge to flee, yet she remained. Did she stay because of Wisteriasnow? Was there some part of her that longed to one day win the praise of her mother? Did she stay because of her littermates, a sense of loyalty to them keeping her confined within the shadows of camp?
Blue eyes glanced at Snowtalon.
Or did she stay for a cat outside her family?
It didnโt seem right that he was now a warrior, not because he was younger than her by some moons, but because she remembered so vividly the day he was named an apprentice, how eager and excited he had been to make a nest inside the apprenticesโ den. Back then Rattlepaw had still been trying, had still put effort into her training. Flinthawk had still been alive, praising her and boosting what little confidence she had still had back then. She had been placed on patrols and training sessions with the then Snowpaw, and during those days she had grown fond of the mostly white tom. He had always been so sure of himself, so prepared to step forward and help his Clan where needed. He had been so kind and generous. Even after her fatherโs death, even after the flame of determination had dwindled out from within her, she had been drawn to the young tom. They had even shared a few nights together, leaving the camp and playing under the twinkling stars. Those times had been rare, but when they happened it was perhaps the only thing keeping Rattlepaw from falling off the cliff into insanity.
Would he still want to sneak away into the night with her? Or did he no longer want to spend time with her because he was a warrior and she was an apprentice?
The answer was placed in front of her, a vibrant bell colored in pink.
A second answer of pink placed swiftly and delicately behind her ear.
The mollyโs breath caught in her throat. Her jaws parted, words caught in her vocal cords.
Flowers? For her? Snowtalon surely had bees in his brain.
She swallowed down the thistles that scratched against her throat. โWhere did you find them?โ She asked as she lowered her head, nose gently sniffing at the fragile petals of the flowers at her paws. They were still fragrant, fresh mountain air rolling off them as vividly as if they were still outside. Snowtalon had went out of camp specifically for these flowers. Specifically for her.
A sudden bout of paranoia swept over her. There was no time to relax, not even when she wanted to under the warm gaze of Snowtalon. Rattlepawโs tail twitched nervously, ears swiveling along the top of her head. Had her mother been sent on a patrol this morning or was she still somewhere in camp, watching her daughter silently, judging her? Was she waiting for a chance to steal her daughter away, to pull her from Snowtalon and give her a talk? The newest wound - now a fresh scar across the bridge of her nose - stung, a harsh reminder of what her very own mother was capable of. There was no way she would approve of Snowtalon. No way sheโd approve of Rattlepaw forming a bond with the young tom.
Frantic eyes searched the camp. A quick glance here, a swift look there.
Nothing.
No signs of a soft white pelt dusted with dove gray. Perhaps Wisteriasnow was on patrol. Perhaps Rattlepaw was safe.
For now.
She snapped her attention back to Snowtalon when the tom began to speak once more. Her paws shuffled, her ears twitching once more. The flower Snowtalon had placed behind her ear fluttered against her fur, an odd sensation, a strange tickling. But she didnโt mind it. She didnโt mind it one bit. โIโm not upset,โ she mewed quietly. Truth blossomed in her words. Rattlepaw was happy for him. Snowtalon deserved his promotion. She only hated that sheโd never be in the same den as him again. She hated that he would more than likely move on without her. Heโd find warrior friends and make time for them, would sneak away from camp at night and play underneath the moon with them rather than her. Rattlepawโs stomach twisted at the thought. โYou deserved your warrior name. Butโฆโ The pointed apprentice trailed off, paws shuffling once again, eyes lowering. She shivered with a deep breath. โYouโฆyou wonโt forget me, will you?โ
An insanely bold question. A selfish inquiry. It was as if she was asking Silentshadow if their father spoke of Rattlepaw all over again. She longed for the parent who loved her, but she longed for Snowtalonโs continuous friendship. He appeared genuine in his feelings toward her, like he actually wanted to be around her. Rattlepaw found that hard to believe, but she wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe that Snowtalon would still remain her friend despite their new difference in ranks.
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Post by ๐๐๐๐๐ข on Jul 1, 2024 10:37:05 GMT -5
 The shock of new kits and their even more shocking arrival was finally starting to wear off, and Asterfrost was beginning to feel excited about watching the little ones grow and explore their personalities. Maybe it was unfair for Briarstar to keep a secret like this from the clan, but at the end of the day it was important that she, and her kits, made it home safe. Asterfrost couldn't even imagine what must've been going through the dark-furred leaders head when she had found out about her unborn kits. But to bring home four healthy kits was nothing short of a miracle. After seasons upon seasons of misfortune when it came to kits and their mothers, the clan should be happy that everyone came back alive.
Currently, the pointed molly was relaxing just by the edge of camp, having returned from a border patrol not too long ago. A pesky badger had been hanging around the territory lately, so patrols were being periodically sent out to make sure it wasn't coming any closer past the border.
When she had left earlier in the day, she noticed Slatestorm and a small crew of warriors renovating the warriors den. She hoped they would be done by the time she got back, but they still seemed to be hard at work. It was amusing to watch, every time they'd come back up covered in more dirt and debris than the last. Her pale blue eyes always searched for her mate whenever he emerged, admiring him from afar.
Finally, it looked like the project had been fulfilled, and after dismissing the others it seemed like Slatestorm was searching for someone. Her heart fluttered knowing that it was her that he was looking for. The smaller molly stood, weaving through clanmates and trying to stay somewhat hidden with her approach.
In a manner that was all too familiar at this point, and far from being platonic, Asterfrost wound her body as much as she could around Slatestorm, laying just behind him as she ran her tongue over the back of his ear. She breathed in his comforting scent as she helped groom his thick fur, now smelling like the earth with it being covered in so much dirt.
"You might as well wash yourself in the brook if you're looking to get all this dust off before the sun goes down." She teased him, keeping her voice an intimate whisper. Being this close in camp was definitely risky as their relationship wasn't known by many, but Wisteriasnow didn't seem to be nearby, and who would she be to ignore a clan member in need. Besides, sharing tongues was an activity all clan members participated in.
"Are you up for a walk later? I've missed you." |
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 1, 2024 10:45:06 GMT -5
SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- The young tom's boldness had suddenly returned to him as he watched the way fear and doubt clouded her lovely face once more. He would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed her scars and scrapes, but never asked aout them. He knew whatever the reason, she likely didn't want to speak about it. Wherever theycame from, they didn't make her any less beautiful to Snowtalon. "My dad showed me a spot on the mountain where these grow." He had answered simply to her first question. Then, he brushed his fur alongside her, gently. He knew she was still fearful, and dared not be too forward. "I could never forget you..." Suddenly, the tight feeling in his throat returned as his eyes locked onto hers,"I know getting your warrior name has been difficult for you. I'm sorry. But whether you're Rattlepaw for 100 moons or not, I want you to know that I could never forget you. Rattlepaw..."
Suddenly he felt so overwhelmed with emotions he found it hard to speak. Of course he wanted to know what happened. He suspected the death of her father was a part of it, but he would be a fool to pretend he truly knew the whole of it. He just sat there, looking at the beautiful she-cat with those gorgeous pink flowers highlighting everything he loved about her. Of course he wanted her in the warrior's den with him one day...but he would make sure the apprentice den still stayed a second home for him as long as she was there. He swore it in his heart right then and meant it.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 1, 2024 11:29:37 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
His words were so soft, so sweet. He was so gentle as he spoke, his movements calming, a ripple of water that whispered gently at its banks. There was no roar of crashing rapids, no shudders of a monster lurking within the deep. Snowtalon was genuine. So, so truthful. So good-hearted.
But wasnโt that how her mother was among the eyes of the watching? So nurturing and loving she was when others were watching, so brutal and hateful she was when among the shadows. Even her sister with whom she got along with on most occasions claimed to love her and care for her, and Rattlepaw believed that she did, but even Silentshadow was capable of stinging remarks and cold-hearted growls. How many times now had she cowered before the very figure of the one cat she thought would keep her safe no matter what? Her father had loved her. He had been kind to her, albeit in his own way, but he had never raised his voice toward her. Had never claimed she was worthless. He had been disappointed in her before, but even then his words had not been scathing like Wisteriasnow. Had not been cold like Silentshadow.
Then her father had died. He had been brought back to camp a scrap of what he had once been, covered in his own dried blood and a snarl that would remain forever on his face until the worms and maggots in his tomb carved the flesh away, leaving nothing but bone.
The flower petal gently tucked behind her ear, Rattlepaw focused on Snowtalon. He had always appeared to care, had always appeared so genuine and so respectful towards her. Even on the nights they snuck away from camp and hid out in the dark of midnight he had been as happy and loving as he was in camp. Around the watchful gaze of others or hidden from sight, Snowtalon remained the same tom toward Rattlepaw. He had never once acted harshly toward her, and even now, as he stood before her a warrior of his Clan, he remained the same tom she had known for seasons. He was Snowtalon now, but he still reminded her of the same Snowpaw she had grown fond of.
That still didnโt take away the paranoia that crawled in the back of her mind. The fear that one day, he too, would raise his voice at her and strike his claws into her thin pelt.
โI could never forget you.โ
Rattlepawโs breath caught in her throat. Her chest tightened. Would he stay true to that sentiment or would he eventually walk away from her? Seasons from now sheโd still be an apprentice, and what sort of life would a warrior want with a forever apprentice? Even if she was older than him the Clan would surely still find it odd for a warrior and apprentice to be so near and dear to one another. One day Snowtalon would believe that, too. Heโd find another warrior to spend time with, to grow close to. Heโd take another warrior to go out with him on the nights the moon was bright and swollen with silvery light. Some other cat would soon be the one to light up his gaze and place a smile on his face.
One day, some other cat would be wearing flowers behind their ears that he picked specifically for them.
Ears heating and fur rippling self-consciously she asked, โCan we still do patrols together?โ She wasnโt much use on patrols and no longer did she get excited about patrolling the land and hunting for her Clan, but maybe, just maybe, if she continued to weasel her way into Snowtalonโs daily chores, then he wouldnโt forget about her. Maybe he would always want to be her friend. Maybe she would continue being the one he picked flowers for and placed so delicately behind her ear.
If she continued to make Snowtalon happy, then maybe he would never turn on her like her own kin.
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 1, 2024 16:48:20 GMT -5
SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon--------------------------------------------------------------------- A fire returned to Snowtalon's eyes at her suggestion. He took a glance around at how many cats had been milling about. So far, they seemed mostly alone. "Of course we can. Do you wanna go out now, before anyone else calls us for something else?" The mischief within him was still alive and well. He wondered in the furthest corner of his mind if he would grow out of it, but as of this moment he was no different than he had been a week ago. Only his name had seemed to change. He began to gather the flowers back into his mouth, so he could deposit them in Rattlepaw's nest before they made their escape. He did not want his efforts to be in vain by leaving them at the camp entrance to be trampled.
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Post by Sand on Jul 1, 2024 18:07:26 GMT -5
Oriolehop camp โ accompanied by: Honeyskip he/him - warrior
 Within a week, the clan had changed so much that it left Oriolehop in a daze. He couldnโt believe that his sonsโ their sonsโ had their full names. Bucktail and Snowtalon felt fitting to the two littermates who had helped Briarstar during the birth of her kits. Not a single cat knew that she was pregnant, well, besides her mate. Still, things were different now.
The thought of having a second litter with Honeyskip, who he hardly saw anymore, was a tad terrifying. What if they lost an entire litter like Goldenchill and Greyhawk did? His paws trembled at the thought as he slid back into the bustle of cats. Slatestorm was miserably trying to fix up the camp. His pale yellow gaze searched for Honeyskip yet the she-cat found him first. He let out a purr, feeling her bump underneath his chin. โGood morning,โ he purred before following his mateโs gaze.
Eagleswoop looked so stressed to Oriolehop. He could only imagine how the tom felt right now as the father of four premature kits that were kept secret for moons. โI think his fur is already turning grey. Before we know it, he will have more grey fur than Sorrelsnap,โ he joked, letting out a mrrow of amusement. His pale gaze brightened before showing a bit of mischief. โIt feels like I havenโt seen you in moons! Can I steal you away from your duties or not?โ
[ tags: ladylantsov | image credit: pexels ]
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Post by [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] on Jul 1, 2024 19:47:38 GMT -5
BeaverpeltBeaverpelt shook his head. โNo.โ he said, sitting down beside Oakstreakโs nest. โWell, these bones are so old they always hurt.โ He purred. At this point in his life, Beaverpelt was no longer disturbed by how fragile his body had gotten. He was old, and he accepted it. He was aware enough of his limits, especially after last weekโs escapade.
โThatโs not why I came to see you though. I came to see my Oakkit.โ He licked his sonโs ear affectionately, as if nothing had changed since the day he led his two sons, toddling on their wobbly legs, out into the clearing to meet their clan for the first time. โItโs been too long since I spoke to you about something besides needing a million herbs.โ Beaverpelt stretched out his front paws and lowered himself down on his haunches, neatly tucking his front paws underneath him. โHow are you doing? Hopefully youโre resting more, now that Bucktail has his full Medicine Cat name.โ |
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Jul 1, 2024 20:31:29 GMT -5
Rattlepaw ยป
Did he want to go out now? Was Snowtalon really suggesting what she thought he was? Could they even do that, go out alone in broad daylight, when cats still milled about in camp, albeit in scarce numbers due to patrols having already been called out.
โฆ The answer to that was right in front of her.
Bright eyed and eager to get out of camp, Snowtalon was a warrior. Gone were the days of his apprenticeship. As a warrior he had been granted the luxury of getting to leave camp whenever he felt like it without an escort. He could come and go as he pleased so long as his duties had been tended to or if he had been spared from a current patrol. That was a luxury that Rattlepaw would never earn. Did she even care about that, though? Her thoughts were so consumed with the idea of leaving the Clan lately that she didnโt think she even cared about the luxuries of being a warrior.
Well, clearly she didnโt care about being a warrior. If she did, she would have received her name long ago. She would have stood alongside her brother and sister as they had gotten their warrior names a few moons ago.
Rattlepaw already knew that no cat would be looking for her. Silentshadow was nowhere to be found, Slatestorm hardly gave her any of his time, and Briarstar would never take her out training ever again, the misty gray and white molly knew no cat would be missing her if she slipped out of camp. Some other cats would surely be looking for Snowtalon if given the chance, but Rattlepaw was going to be completely selfish today. She was going to make sure no other cat but herself got to bask in the presence of Snowtalon today.
The young molly leaned forward and nudged the tom against his shoulder. It was a bold move for her, something she didnโt do to just any cat, and it was certainly a surprise to see Rattlepaw initiating anything at all. Maybe there was a spark of her old self still within her, just deeply hidden and buried away so far down that it would take an army to dig it back up. The Rattlepaw she had been before her fatherโs death could very well still be alive, but a miracle would need to happen for that version of Rattlepaw to return. โCome on,โ she mewed, voice a whisper. If she was going to keep Snowtalon all to herself today then they needed to leave camp now.
They had no time to waste.
Goldenchill ยป
Kits were a blessing to the Clan. They were a good omen, a sign that the Clan was strong and prosperous even in the toughest of times. Kits were necessary for the survival of the Clan; they were the cats that would continue the legacy that ConiferClan had cherished and protected for season upon season upon season. Kits would grow into the future warriors and medicine cats they would defend and heal the Clan to come. Without the queens who successfully gave life to the new generation, ConiferClan would have faded into nothing by now. Would have faded into only a memory designated by eroded pawprints along the mountainous slopes and mulch of the forests.
Briarstarโs kits were doing well. Silverfernโs pregnancy was going along smoothly. These last few litters had been going well so far, a blessing from the ancestors themselves.
Skykit, Frigidkit, Rainkit, and Brightkit.
Four little lives. Three gone before they had even breathed. One gone after a moon of fighting. Had they survived, had they been blessed by StarClan, then they would have been warriors by now.
Skyfrost, Frigidstrike, Rainlark, Brightfall.
It was a bad habit of hers, wondering, dreaming, of what her kitsโ warrior names would have been. She had always imagined them earning strong and powerful names like their father. She had always imagined them earning their warrior names after performing some unheard of heroic task. Perhaps that was the yearn of every mother, to watch their kits accomplish something that no cat had done before. A mother was made to be proud of her offspring, to guide their paws and make sure they carried with them pride, joy, and love. A mother only wanted the best for her brood. Goldenchill just wished that the best had happened to her own.
Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, the large queen wondered if her kits would have had kits by now. Would they have been parents if they had survived? Had they stayed around would she still be in the nursery, but rather caring for the kits of her Clanmates, would she have been caring for the kits of her kits? That was a question she would never know. A question she would never have the answer to.
Goldenchill shifted on her paws, a sigh slipping through her nostrils. She was happy for those with kits at their sides and those with healthy kits within their flanks, but why had StarClan chosen her kits to take away from her?
The gloom of what she had lost was shoved to the back of her mind when a yowl, painful and low, echoed within the nursery walls. Her only companion being Silverfern the golden molly focused on the gray queen who lay in her nest, stomach heaving, laying on her side with pain and panic glinting her blue eyes.
As many births as she had witnessed, for the one she had gone through, Goldenchill was no stranger to the signs of labor.
Adrenaline kicked in. The large queen was instantly on her paws. โSilverfern, Iโm going to get Oakstreak and Bucktail, okay? Just hold on.โ Easier said than done when in the throes of labor, Goldenchill knew that all too well. With one last glance toward the queen, Goldenchill rushed out of the nursery and headed straight for the medicine cat den with one goal in mind - alert the healers of the current kitting and get Silverfern the help she needed immediately.
Raspberry and borage leaves for kitting and milk letdown. โฆ Thyme for shock, poppy seeds for pain, rosemary to hide the scent of death.
Goldenchill gritted her teeth, cursing between a clenched jaw. Her mind was taking this all too far. Her mind was reliving her own kitting, how three lives had been torn away from her and a fourth stolen just a moon after. Everything was going to be fine with Silverfernโs litter. Everything was going to go smoothly.
Bitter herbs and tangy poultices stopped the golden feline in her pawsteps as she entered the medicine cat den. โOakstreak? Bucktail?โ
It wasnโt the creaky voice of the old medicine cat that greeted Goldenchill, rather, it was the floating, happy tone of her young nephew, Bucktail. The newly named medicine cat of ConiferClan appeared from the back of the den, green debris of herbs dotting his pelt, clinging to him like a squirrel to a tree. She remembered the day he had been born alongside his littermate Snowkit, now named Snowtalon. They had been so small, so tiny. Cute little bundles of fur kneading at the belly of Honeyskip, Goldenchillโs sister from another litter. Goldenchill had been beyond excited for her sister, pleased to see her sisterโs litter grow big and strong. But sheโd be lying if she said seeing her sister so happy, watching her sisterโs family thrive without any complications, had not twisted her gut with grief and envy. Oh, how she longed for a family of her own, for kits to dance underneath her paws and squeal with delight upon seeing their mother.
โGoldenchill, are you okay?โ Bucktailโs concerned voice was paired with a comforting touch against her cheek. Worried copper eyes stared into her own green gaze. When had her nephew grown into such a caring, compassionate soul? He wasnโt her own kit, but Bucktail made Goldenchill proud. As did Snowtalon.
But she wasnโt here to spend time with her nephew. Silverfern needed them. Silverfernโs kits needed them. โSilverfern, sheโs kitting.โ
Thatโs all the explanation Bucktail needed. It wasnโt until Bucktail called out to his mentor that Goldenchill realized the old tabby was tucked away in a separate corner of the den, huddled nearby the even older figure of his father Beaverpelt. โOakstreak, Silverfernโs kitting. Iโm gathering herbs now!โ With that the cream tabby disappeared, surely busy with picking through the herb stores to put together what was needed. Knowing that Bucktail, and perhaps even Oakstreak as well, would soon be following her, Goldenchill rushed back to the nursery.
Making her way inside she went straight to Silverfern, stopping a few mouse-lengths away as to not overstimulate the kitting mother. โBucktailโs on his way,โ she reported, falling silent when green eyes landed on a kit already born.
Instantly she took action, swooping in to begin licking the tiny tortoiseshell. A mother to kits long perished, Goldenchill still held the maternal instincts of a lioness - protective and fierce yet loving and gentle. Even if this kit was not of her own blood she would do anything to make sure nothing happened to her and her littermates.
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Post by ๐ก๐ธ๐ฌ๐ด๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐ท๐ฒ๐ท๐ฐ on Jul 2, 2024 10:04:36 GMT -5
OakstreakMedicine Cat * 95 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon [X] . VeniVidiVici . [X] --------------------------------------------------------------------- One of the many downsides to being a Medicine Cat was that it made it hard to have fun. To do anything other than gather herbs and help those in need. He wanted this to be over, but Briarstar still needed to know of the dangers lurking within their camp. "I'm-" He began, before Goldenchill's alarmed mews filled the den. As much as he would have liked to continue talking with his kin, birthing kits was still a very important task, and one that required much attention. "Still busy, unfortunately. I..." He looked to his former apprentice critically before going any further,"Do you want me to go with you?" He knew Bucktail was more than capable, but his previous feelings of abandoning the ball of fluff now called Bucktail to the throws of another kitting, he knew, was nerve wracking. He didn't want to abandon him if he was needed again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------- SnowtalonWarrior * 11 moons * He/Him * tagged; Feathertalon --------------------------------------------------------------------- The warrior wasted little time with putting the flowers in Rattlepaw's nest, wanting to be swift enough to easily catch up with her without being noticed by the rest of camp. He rejoined her quickly, heart feeling very full with affection. As they made their way around the mountain side they called home, Snowtalon had kept so close that their pelts kept brushing against one another as they walked. He hoped this meant she reciprocated his feelings, that he wasn't reading too much into her bold (for her at least) actions. They certainly didn't feel like just friends to Snowtalon...not when her scent was more sweet and comforting than any flower in the world. Once they were far enough from camp in a fairly open patch of land, he dared speak once more. "Rattlepaw," He began, looking over the face that he invisioned in his mind since the moment he first saw it,"Where did that scar come from?" Worry had filled his pale eyes as he looked at it. He hoped it was just a bramble or something accidental...but the shape of it looked to much like the scar of a claw to be dismissed. He would have taken down any foe be it another cat or any one of the mountain side predators that they competed with, ifit meant getting revenge on whatever it was that dared to hurt his precious Rattlepaw.
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Post by ๐๐๐๐๐ข on Jul 2, 2024 13:50:01 GMT -5
 There was nothing Beewhisker disliked more than feeling like he was wasting a perfectly beautiful afternoon hiding away in the trees and shrubs. Hunting was important, yes, but he and Wolfstride had been out in the territory all morning and it was creeping closer and closer to midday. It was taking everything within the tom to not bail right now, something he might try to get away with with any other cat. But if there was any feline that Beewhisker wouldn't dare cross, it was his own half sister. She was probably the only cat that could keep him in line, and the only one he couldn't say no to. So when she told him they were going hunting earlier, he knew there was no way of getting out of it.
So far he'd managed a decent catch, having caught a couple of mice and currently had his sights set on a bird that was pecking at the ground. He squinted his pale blue eyes, keeping his breathing even as he tried to remain as still as possible. His light colored pelt was hidden in the shadows of some bushes. Beewhisker's claws flexed into the ground and he took one last deep breath before bolting forward and pouncing on his prey. The leap was as powerful as it was graceful, but he was just short of jumping squarely on the bird, managing to only clip its wing. "Foxdung." He cursed as he watched the bird awkwardly try to take flight.
Crouching down, he leapt up once more and managed to bat the thing right out of the air before it could escape his grasp, rushing over once it hit the ground to deliver the killing blow. The flame pointed tom heaved a great sigh and bent down to pick up the limp bird then headed off in the direction of his buried prey, and where he thought he might find Wolfstride. Surely they had caught enough prey to head back to camp, right? |
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Post by ladylantsov on Jul 3, 2024 11:27:18 GMT -5
BRIARSTAR
BURNTEARS By the Leaderโs Den It would have taken a blind cat to miss the ghost of grief that danced over Burntearโs expression in that heartbeat. If Briarstar peered any closer, she might have spotted dancing flames and toms long lost in her companionโs suddenly darkened gaze. The dark-furred Queen doesnโt reach out to Burntears, isnโt sure the touch would be welcomed in that instant of grief.
โItโs strange, isnโt it,โ Briarstar our understanding to the motherโs grief. Sheโd not lost a child, but she had lost family, lost friends. Her voice is quiet, as still as a warm sunny day. โWe bare these little ones and raise them to serve our Clan, knowing well what this life can cost them.โ
Her gaze takes in the sight of the four bundles nuzzled into her dark fur, something melancholy to how she tugs them that little bit closer. โWe love them, and let them serve their clan, because being a warrior is in their blood.โ
And can only pray to the stars that they live long lives.
But what weight could a simple motherโs prayers hold against the tangling path that was their ancestors design?
Against her molly, someone begins letting out a mewl that was both plaintive and furious. Briarstar pauses her string of thoughts to duck down in search of the culprit, chuckling when she finds the source of the complaint as little Loonkit, squished by one of her bigger brothers. Carefully the senior molly takes the little one by the scruff of her neck, settling the still sleepy youngster in the warm crook of her large paws. There her littlest one and only daughter settles quickly back to sleep.
Oh to be so small. Briarstar muses with a twitch of her whiskers, where the only worries in the world are keeping warm and fed.
As hard as it was to imagine, each member of this clan had started out this small. Even her father, her deputy, - even herself. Tiny, blind and all but deaf in their first days, over the moons honed into powerful soldiers. Wellโฆ with a few notable exceptions.
and this mouse of a little molly would one day become the same. The chubby paws that kneaded at her motherโs belly with the fury of a rabbit digging out a burrow, would sprout claws that would reach for throats and underbellies. That fangless little maw that latched and suckled like sheโd never known food a day in her short life, would sprout daggers meant to tear and rip, draw blood and end lives.
The life of a warrior.
The molly moves in from the bitter topic quickly, like the morbid subject had never even been broached. โI really donโt know how these little ones get so messy,โ she grumbles. โThey barely leave my side, yet every time I look theyโve managed to gather all sorts of dirt.โ |
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