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Post by cobweb on Jul 2, 2012 18:51:58 GMT -5
tawnypaw " all the pretty people died, innocence is out of style " It had only been a day since Tawnypaw’s apprentice ceremony and already she was breaking the rules. She knew that she couldn’t be outside of camp without a mentor or a trained warrior but that didn’t stop her from stepping out into the unknown. Her mentor was busy today and she held no qualms against him. He was a busy feline who had duties to uphold which meant that the tortoiseshell she-cat would be placed aside for the time being. Oddly enough the fresh apprentice did not mind being set on the backburner, in fact she preferred it. She liked being alone although she didn’t bristle when company approached. She was more than happy to share her thoughts and her ideals on life, but she wasn’t sure her fellow counterparts wanted to hear her grim thoughts.
The small she-cat padded further into the territory. The soil beneath her paws felt soggy and foreign compared to the rough surface in camp. But it didn’t bother her, it was a welcomed change. Sunlight poured its light down onto her clan lighting up every sparkling pool of water that dappled the ground. It had rained a few days ago and puddles seemed to be everywhere. Water was another foreign concept to her. The only thing she drank was from a ball of moss otherwise she had drunk a variety of queens’ milk (since none of the queens nursed her for very long). She really didn’t understand why they thought of her as an ill omen. They always regarded her with caution as if she was scent above from the abyss. The thought intrigued her and although she knew her clan mates were just being superstitious she liked to believe that an entity (even one as black as Abyssclan) took an interest to her—that it had selected her for a purpose that would remain unknown to her until the time drew near. It was those thoughts and the superstition that surrounded her that made her eager to wake up in the morning.
Tawnypaw stopped in midstride, her paw hovering over the earth. She parted her lips and drew in the flourishing scents. She was too young to pick out each individual scent but she could pinpoint the source of water. In fact the she-cat wasn’t very far from the river. With swift paw steps she trotted in that direction, unsure what treasures would unfold in front of her. The sun warmed her tortoiseshell pelt and she wished her pelt didn’t consist of so much black. Her round orange eyes glanced around the terrain. She wanted to be careful as to not run into any predators or worse—a patrol. The she-cat wasn’t fond of being scolded and even though it had happened only once she wanted to avoid it at all costs.
Soon enough she was close enough to hear the river. Her heartbeat tripped as a wave of delight crashed over her. A grin stretched across her muzzle and she propelled herself forward. Her pelt felt like it was being boiled beneath the hot sun and even the breeze ruffling through her pelt didn’t quell the heat. She hurried down the bank, her paws sinking into sand. She stood there for a moment, wriggling her toes in the unfamiliar substance before she trekked into the shallow part of the river. Tawnypaw was surprised that steam didn’t radiate from her pelt. For a little while she wadded around in the shallow end. She didn’t dare venture out into the current without the proper tools or lessons. She liked the feeling of the water lapping against her fur and how the cold replaced the heat. The young she-cat sat down, the water stopping at the base of her neck. She was almost completely submerged and she wondered if she unclawed the ground beneath, if the water would sweep her away—into a place she was destined to be.
[ words ; 654 ] [ tagged ; open ] [ notes ; none ]
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Sun
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Post by Sun on Jul 2, 2012 19:38:24 GMT -5
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The first thing she always awoke to was the sound of the rushing water. It was what she used to go to sleep, to wake up, and to make her sour days go bright once more. Water always seemed to be the cure for many things, from the tangible problems like dehydration to the mental ones of insomnia. And boy did Arrowstar have a problem with insomnia. Late nights were spent tossing and turning in irregular patterns, her breathing heavy and snoring. But the water always seemed to help. To her and the rest of RiverClan, or at least, she hoped the rest, it had magical properties. Not in the literal sense, but in the sense that is was their lifeline. She couldn't go a day without it, literally and metaphorically. So, a smile came to her face as her ears perked at the sound of water rushing over the banks. The rapids were fast today, it seemed. The mere sound of the water gave it away. She curled her limbs and stretched, arching her back so that each vertebrae was able to bend like a bridge. Her paws dragged her outside, where the chirping of birds was more than present.
The camp itself was a bit empty, but that was to be expected (and hoped). Most likely, the warriors had either taken their apprentices out or were on patrol duties. Only a few scattered here and there, mingling by the fresh-kill pile and sharing tongues. With it being so early, the sky was a tint of red and blue, the sun just now reaching its zenith. With the peak of dawn coming, she figured it would only help the Clan if she did some early-morning hunting. But she'd have to wait a bit, for the rapids were going much too fast to be able to catch fish. The river just off the horizon was splashing with white water that reflected in the sun, nearly blinding her. But what truly got her attention was the fact that a single lone cat was making their way out towards the river. It peaked her interest. What was that cat doing, necessarily? Didn't they know the river was much too fast to catch anything?
Deciding to investigate, the RiverClan leader hopped down from the foot of her den, passing by many cats that greeted her with a nod of their head, or a perked, "Hi, Arrowstar!" However, they never distracted her from her true goal, which was to discover that cat's intentions. From the distance she was at, she was unable to put a name nor smell to that body. She'd just have to keep moving and hope it was not an enemy.
She began to near the river in a matter of five minutes. And by the time she had reached her destination, said cat was dunking herself underneath the rushing river, which had now slowed down just a tad. Their pelt being overrun by the ferocious water, soaked to the bone. Arrowstar made no sounds for a bit, studying the cat in detail; a rather pretty tortoiseshell she-cat, who looked to have too much fur to be a RiverClan cat. Yet, the smell did not deceive her. It was Tawnypaw, no doubt, the newly named apprentice of RiverClan. It was then she decided to make her move.
"What are you doing so far from Camp, young missy?" Arrowstar said sternly, taking a seat by the bank, watching the apprentice, who looked somewhat solemn, yet excited at the same time. For what reason, she was going to find out.
tag➞ tawnypaw mood➞ concerned words➞ 597 notes➞ <3
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Solace
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Seize the day.
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Post by Solace on Jul 21, 2012 17:12:50 GMT -5
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Warm sunlight shining in shafts through the roof of the apprentice den alerted a sleeping black tom to the time. Thinking he was somewhere else, he jumped to his paws and looked around quickly, trying to find a familiar face.
"Two! We--" he stopped. Oh right. He shook his head, sitting down with a dispirited sigh. He wasn't with the Rift anymore, was he? And Two...
Shaking his head, he stood up and poked his head out of the den, his dusty blue eyes scanning the quiet camp. A thousand and one bizarre scents bombarded his nose and he took a hesitant step outside. He knew he was in RiverClan now, but six moons of waking up to noise, blood, and claws could leave a cat paranoid.
Taking a deep, steadying breath he ventured out into the camp. He kept to the edges of the area, his head hanging dispiritedly. He felt out of place here. With a heavy sigh, he made his way out to the entrance of camp, feeling he had to find some place he could be alone and think.
His paws carried him in the direction of the river. He stopped every once in a while to examine the plantlife or commit the land to memory, or sometimes he would just stop and look at the scenery. If he shook off his heavy thoughts for a moment, this place truly was beautiful.
Eventually he came to the banks of the river and he dawdled on the shore, examining the gently swirling water. It was an eddy, cut off from the rest of the current. Biting his lip, he carefully put a paw in and swiftly drew it out again, sucking in a breath at the cold temperature. Sighing, he put his paws in again and tensed up, waiting for the cold sensation to leave. Gaining his nerve, he started wading through the shallows, following the current downstream.
Words: 322 Notes: So short D: Tagged: Arrowstar; Tawnypaw
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