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Post by Kathryn on Jan 23, 2011 10:32:05 GMT -8
Bestially the tom twitched his ears, swinging his thick tail around to slam against the trees. Golden eyes glinted, shoving back the sunlight where it touched his iris, returning a gold just as, if not, more beautiful than the sun. Sound exploded in every direction – the territory was alive with the sound of prey and voices. Growling deep down in his throat, the Warrior rose from his position, kicking up sand behind him as he prowled across the ground. Slanted forward with a mixture of calm suspicion and anger, he crouched down under his resting place in the shadows. He couldn’t stand sleeping in the Warrior’s den. Snoring cats would keep him awake, not to mention he could barely go inside. Clearly he was too big for anything, but he didn’t care – today gave the opportunity of a new fight. Arching his back and puffing his chest out, flicking his hind paws back and snorting as he stretched, the tom prepared to go out into the territory and find something to do. “This place is boring,” the tom spat, pushing his forelegs out and lifting his rump into the air. His tail fur fluffed out; the Jet black plumage draping the earth as it curled up, then relaxed when he returned to standing. Ivory claws dug into the earth as he flicked his claws in and out of his sheathes, craning his neck until it clicked and popped to release the muscle there. When he was satisfied, he padded into the camp and searched it using only his eyes. There was nothing at all to do...
Instead of messing around, the tom pushed through the camp and brushed past the Medicine Cat's den as he headed toward Reflection Pool. Sourly, as he made his way through the territory, he glanced down at the scars over his legs. Memories flooded through his mind of his life before joining AspenClan - his life as a rogue called Ken, a life of constant clawing cats and fighting for survival. It was easier now he was with AspenClan, however he found the younger cats increasingly irritating to be around. Not to mention, even though he had medical care waiting around for whenever he needed it, if he so much as set paw near the den, he'd end up breaking some den's entrance with his bulk... Again. Stopping just by the pool side, he bent his head and took a drink from it. A gentle mist cast blurry images over the surface of the water. Uninterested golden eyes turned away from it and he carefully considered his next course of action: Hunt or fight? ...Well, to Raggedclaws, that was an obvious choice. It was time to find someone to battle. Hopefully his next opponent would be better than his last - who he sent sprawling across the earth with a single whip over the face of his heavy, swinging tail.
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Post by Juniper on Jan 23, 2011 19:34:29 GMT -8
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It was all whiteness – blinding ice-white light that formed a halo around the light silhouette before her. “Oh Palekit, you really are growing up,” it murmured softly, a kindly, angelic look upon its blurred face. “Palekit, you are destined for greatness, I know of it. You will become the greatest Warrior of the land.” Slowly, the scene began dissolving, receding into absolute darkness. Then, sharp pines scraped at her sides; she felt as though someone were carrying her through the woods. When at last she was laid down in a nest of nettles-
Thump! Thump! Thump! Silverclaw’s drowsy eyes snapped open, and she felt as though her dark reverie had been yanked away. Thump! Growling, she rose to unsteady legs and hobbled out of the warm den. Once again, she had been dreaming of her mother – not Dawnpelt but her true mother. However, also yet again her birth mother had no face, as she could no longer recall her mother’s facial appearance.
As she emerged from the dark Warriors’ den, she saw a raven black shape melt into the shadows of the camp’s boundaries. Suspicion clouding her eyes, she connected the abrupt sounds that awoke her to the brief glance at the cat who had snuck away to reveal it must have been Raggedclaws. She hissed with annoyance. It was very well known that he was the Clan nuisance, his enormous bulk constantly crashing into things and breaking them. She personally had a grudge against him as every time another den collapsed, she was required to patch it back up.
As such, Silverclaw considered him to be her responsibility, so she couldn’t exactly let him leave the camp without trailing him right? Immediately, she fell into an even step just behind him, praising the wind for sweeping his scent towards her and not vice versa.
At last, the two cats had reached the edge of the Reflection Pool. Silverclaw watched, curiosity mingling with doubt, as Raggedclaws gazed into the glassy lake and took a long draught of the fresh water. Come all the way here just for a drink of water, hm? I think not. Stealthily, she slithered up just behind him act quickly pounced just before his nose and before he had a chance to react to her sudden scent. “And what are you doing here?” she snarled, circling around him as if to attack.
“Silverclaw speaks” Silverclaw thinks Silverclaw does
Word Count; 396 Tags; Raggedclaws OoC; When she was young and in her real Clan, she was known as Palekit.
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Post by survvie on Jan 23, 2011 20:30:25 GMT -8
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He had wandered past the familiar scent of the cats who inhabited his- and vicious did not use the term lightly- domain, stalking through the undergrowth like a jungle predator, slinking this way and that, without so much as upsetting a blade of grass. He had passed over what he understood were borders for the group of ferals he had renamed, those pesky little nuisances, as the Near, on account of their wild little tribes proximity to the great sanctuary and abode that was the House. He had passed out of his own personal terrain, into the home of tall trees and endless trunks, and had done so entirely without notice... for you see, Vicious was acting not on whim, but on the smallest of pangs in his great belly.
He had been lounging on the porch of the House, basking in the pre-dawn glow and blinking in the slight fog that seemed to have rolled in over night, when one of the smaller creatures of his Place twittered challengingly at him from its perch in a nearby tree. Vicious- content in his warm napping place, and at the time full from the food his People had supplied-had merely glanced at it with drowsy, golden-green eyes, regarding the smaller creature with a look of tired disinterest. As if that had been some sign to the creature that it was safe for the moment, the squirrel wound its way down the tree, settling busily among the roots to scavenge for fallen nuts. Vicious had watched it for a few minutes, before closing his eyes and attempting to doze off- as if willing himself to sleep off the hunger so a great chase could be had. He had not had his eyes closed for over a minute before the sudden thunk of an acorn dropped from above onto his head. Large, puzzled eyes darted up to the overhanging branch, whose seed had been released to fall. After staring for a few moments, as if trying to figure out why the tree would do such a thing, his eyes turned back toward the squirrel, who still foraged at the trees base, blissfully unaware of the monster who had awoken.
Narrowed eyes fixed on the bushy tail, and a warning growl emitted from the great cats throat. "You, creature of the acorn, have loosened the fruits of this tree with your teeth, causing them to conk me in the head because of your inability to simply stop biting off more than your chubby little cheeks can hold." The smaller creature had turned at the noise of his voice, and had promptly leaped away at the same instant- as nearly forty pounds of domestic and wild feline mix hurtled his way. With that frightened leap, the chase was on- malnourished squirrel versus a full and sleepy feline. Vicious was weighted down by his bloated stomach, the squirrel tired from his lack of food-produced energy- but both sides went through a change somewhere through the first few feet into the wild. The squirrel put on speed- gaining the energy of a desperate animal, and Vicious... well, every step took away some of the fullness.
They were quite a time in, by the time Vicious had began to slink along the edge of the body of water that the resident ferals deemed reflection pool, stopping for a drink while he allowed his quarry to flee a few more feet or so. Lapping at the water, he heard the whispering sound of a voice that made him forget the offensive little creature he had been chasing immediately, and focus onto the more immediate reservoir of fun. Wild cats....Clan cats... were around. He crouched beneath a bush, slinking on his stomach so that the surfaces of his green-gold eyes just peeked through the leaves. What's this....? Two wilds...? Well.
vicious does vicious speaks vicious thinks
ooc: hope you don't mind a kittypet intruding? c: sorry, a smidge too long, i had no clue how else to get him out there. Dx
table (c) survvie, stock credit goes to A.G. of flickr
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Post by Kathryn on Jan 24, 2011 8:35:41 GMT -8
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Chilled water trickled down his throat as he drank from the pool, his sun-gold eyes formed to slits as he stared at his reflection on the rippling surface. Strongly, the scent of dust attacked his taste buds and he clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth. Sure he was used to the taste, but that didn’t make it any more appealing. Claws flexing against the sand of the banks, he was about to lower himself into it to wash his fur when something darted in front of his nose. First he thought it was a mouse by the grey-looking fur, but then he realised that it was Silverclaw; a Warrior of AspenClan. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to fight the she-cat, who seemed tiny in comparison to him, but then he thought that she would be just like all of his other opponents: Weak, unable to handle his bulk, but fast. Honestly he had no interest in the she-cat, as a battle partner or a mate, which made her, in his eyes, a waste of space.
Confidence of his thick hide and size over the years had made him perhaps a bit too settled. Nothing much surprised him anymore – but if he had a good fight, a lot of fun was sure to come out of that, no doubt. Scanning the scars over the light tan female, he noted that she had nowhere near as many as him; but they both bore the mark of enemy claws. Experienced in fighting – and nothing else, made the tom feel naturally inclined to see just how well his claws matched those scars. What was the Warrior Code for anyway? It only made him more bored, more rebellious, more itching to break it for a thrill. However, AspenClan had a lot of cats who he could watch fight and see if they would even begin to stand a blow from his big claws. Twitching his nose and lifting his heavy head slowly, he watched the female circle him, almost as if he were an enemy Warrior. In his eyes, either she was foolishly brave, or clinically insane to want to do something like that with him. Needless to say, the ebony tom wasn’t in the mood for her games – he wanted to claw something badly, and she was wasting his time.
“Just what do you think you’re you doing?” Deep voice rumbling, he asked the she-cat. Nothing in his tone suggested amusement – in fact, everything there told her, if she would notice it, that he wasn’t very amused, and boredom made his voice almost as dull as a dead fox. Clearly it was something that she would do best to avoid, if she wanted to keep that pretty little head of hers. Turning his head, he lifted his paw to shove her out of his way as he pushed into the water and began to wash his fur. Sitting on the bottom of the source, he spat out some of his fur – which he had malted already, and turned to move on to his back. Suddenly his ears twitched and his head lifted at the sound of a squirrel running over the ground, but what caught his interest wasn’t the squirrel – it was what had caused it to flee. Leaving the small rodent as it charged across the ground, he let his eyes travel around the bushes until he swore he could see a small glint of colour – another cat’s irises, perhaps? Snorting, he hoped that it was either that or a badger. Whatever it was, if it wasn’t big or strong, he wasn’t in the mood. Rather than pursuing the matter, he simply turned away again and tugged gently on some fur, loosened by the cold water on his sides.
Boredom was never a good sign for Raggedclaws. Last time he had become angry, and as he stormed through camp, he had almost caused the herb stock in camp to be replaced, since he had mixed them all up when he charged past the Medicine Cat’s den to wash his heavy fur. Disdain crossed his muzzle as it screwed up and he dragged himself out of the water prematurely. Finishing his daily bath – since his fur would become overwhelming with the scent of AspenClan Territory scents, which was something he didn’t like, he rose to his full height and snorted idly. Perhaps he would go find a fox and fight that instead. Nothing less would satisfy the tom, and he shook his body, sending water flying out in all directions like rain. Golden irises, bright, but at the same time as dark as his fur, turned to land on Silverclaw, if she was still there, and he waited for an answer from the she-cat...
ooc: Anybody is welcome. Please feel free to join. Word count: 904.
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Post by Juniper on Jan 25, 2011 17:25:46 GMT -8
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It wasn’t very often that one would find Silverclaw in a furious mood. She was by nature a very expressionless cat, never eager to betray her innermost emotions. However, she could not tolerate uselessness – something many a cat would describe the cinder colored cat before her. Or possibly worse. Raggedclaws was not only a waste of a great Warrior, he was also quite destructive. Silverclaw had already lost count of the times the rebuilding of their camp had taken place within the past few sunrises.
Her soft steps slowed to a halt, as she considered her next actions. It would be unwise to provoke the gruff Warrior into a fight, and not only because he was a fellow Clanmate. Although it disgusted her to admit it, she was a very weak fighter; her defense moves were not only off, they were practically nonexistent. Eying the bulky Warrior warily, she smoothed her aggressive features into a mere glare of disapproval, complete with the customary upturned nose. Flattening her neck fur, she retorted unkindly, “If you’re just going to lounge around all day, you might as well be useful. Go hunt or something, you lazy-”
Suddenly, an enormous paw swept her aside, her taut muscles reacting far too late. She tumbled over and crashed into a nearby trunk hard. The tree scattered what little leaves it had left onto her, their brittle flesh scraping her jaw uncomfortably. Furiously, she sprang up and twisted around, a torrent of dry leaves falling from her silver fur. She quickly unsheathed her claws and prowled menacingly back towards Raggedclaws.
A flash of pale amber came from the dense growth of the forest, orb-like in their appearance. A shriek emitted as a squirrel pounced out from in front of the glowing orbs. Without hesitation, Silverclaw’s left paw shot out and speared the poor squirrel, deprived of a good meal and weak from its furious dash. Instinctively, she slammed the squirrel to the dry dust and scraped earth over it, kicking the last of the dirt with her hind legs as she slunk closer to Raggedclaws.
At the water’s edge, she could only see the back fur of Raggedclaws – a scrap of midnight amidst the pale mist of morning. A spray of cool water cascaded onto Silverclaw’s muzzle as Raggedclaws proceeded to cleanse himself of his AspenClan scent. Waiting, Silverclaw sat on her haunches though her muscles were bunched up and tense. As soon as Raggedclaws lifted his gargantuan bulk, his soaked fur streaming with lake water, she aimed a paw at his face with unsheathed claws. Not waiting to see his reaction, she whirled around streaked into the forest, shaking the fur plastered to her forehead.
“Silverclaw speaks” Silverclaw thinks Silverclaw does
Word Count; 449 Tags; Raggedclaws and Vicious OoC; She’s horrible at fighting so feel free to attack her!
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Post by Kathryn on Jan 26, 2011 8:56:48 GMT -8
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Sighing slightly as he rubbed his neck fur down with his paw, he had lost all interest in Silverclaw until a silver flash caught his eye. Rather than trying to avoid the attack, he moved into it, knowing with full confidence that the tiny she-cat couldn’t hurt him if she tried. Tickling his fur, he felt it snag slightly when she pulled back and spun around, eyes rising to watch her flee like a rat from a dog. Blinking away his irritation for a heartbeat, he stretched again and began to walk slowly after the female. Rippling under his fur, his muscles were built for hitting, not for running, so even if he ran at full speed he wouldn’t be able to catch her. Instead, he inhaled gently, letting his paws sink into the earth, and called out with a dismal voice, “If you’re going to try and fight me, you might as well try putting some effort into it. That was one of the most pathetic attempts at clawing someone that I’ve seen in moons.”
Swinging his tail behind him to flatten the Jet-coloured fur on his hind legs, he snorted irritably and pushed through the trees. Obviously he had ‘hurt’ the she-cat by just shoving her, but he wasn’t in the mood for games, nor was he in the mood for telling her to shove off when she probably wouldn’t have anyway. Pushing along further, he recalled again that she wasn’t a good fighter, so he would probably end up killing her in a hit with her frame. Having killed so many times before with other cats, he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about her or her claws. Other cats probably would have chased her, but technically she had done wrong by aiming a blow at him, practiced or not. Surely that would be something to tell the Clan Leader... Of course, that was if he could be bothered to, which for Raggedclaws was highly unlikely.
Wondering what the flash of gold he had seen before was, he was almost tempted to sneak back and find out when the sound of beating wings filled his ear drums. Overhead was a small – probably young Eagle, swooping down in a clearing to catch a mouse for its next meal. Snagging the small prey in its talons, Raggedclaws thundered forward and latched his claws onto its back. Dropping the mouse, the small eagle screeched and tried to flap its dark auburn wings to escape. Parting its bright yellow beak in a silent cry of pain, Raggedclaws pushed it down into the ground and snapped its feathered white neck with his thick black paw. Silence overtook the clearing and Raggedclaws sat down, his gold eyes still as bored as he had been earlier. Feeling as though he would be more entertained if he was asleep, he plucked the mouse – which was a bit scratched up, and the eagle and began to walk back to camp with them. Whatever happened to them when he got back was none of his concern. However, at least he had caught something – like Silverclaw had suggested he do, instead of laze around all day... That was, before he knocked her senseless into the tree. As soon as the ebony tom got back to camp, he would simply toss the prey onto the pile and be done with it, and then he would search for a badger to fight...
Word count; 572 OoC; Hmm... I think he would be more interested in fighting a badger (no offense there!). Perhaps we should encounter a young badger or a fox and fight that instead?
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Post by harmony on Jan 27, 2011 13:26:20 GMT -8
Wings. That was all the medicine cat could hear as his vision was a dark blur, his consciousness lost in sleep. He heard them, flapping in his ears, loud and annoying. When he tried to look up and see what was doing the flapping, he found that his neck wouldn't obey his commands. He couldn't look up. But his vision was clearing, and he could now see a young kit before him. He peered at the kit with blue eyes and smiled, trying to remember the kit's name. It was certainly one of AspenClan, that was obvious, but the name was out of reach.
The kit was smiling, too, and bounding toward Fallenleaf with such innocence. The wing beats were still loud and flapping, but Fallenleaf smiled and waited for the kit to reach him. It never did. A golden talon swooped out of nowhere, and to Fallenleaf's horror, grabbed the kit. Now the tom could look, and he saw a giant owl hovering above him. He cried and yelled, but nothing came out of his mouth. So he had to help the squealing kit himself, racing after it. His scarred leg was burning, and though he tried to ignore it, it wouldn't let him chase the bird of prey. So he stopped, helplessly watching the kit being taken away in the dark night sky.
Flashing his blue eyes open, he gasped, looking down at his leg. He was fine, and so was his leg, though the horrid scar was still there. He sighed and stood, shaking his pelt. Looking out of the den, he noticed fading paw prints in the soil. He sniffed, scenting two faint smells of warriors. Shrugging, he decided to join them, hoping it would get the vivid nightmare out of his head.
He limped along the path, walking by the trees that he knew as his own. There was a starry pool ahead of him, so he made for that, but stopped when he heard something rushing by. It was Silverclaw, the she-cat he'd treated the other day for snake bite. And there was another shadow in the distance as well. A black cat, who was now heading toward him with and eagle in his mouth.
"What's going on?" the black and white tom asked Raggedclaws, his tone a bit sharper than usual. Something had happened, or Silverclaw wouldn't have run. Were they fighting?
The medicine cat didn't want to question the warrior who was so much larger and such a better fighter. But his instincts told him something had gone down here, so he pressed the black tom for answers. "What happened, Raggedclaws? What did you do to her?" As soon as he'd said the accusation, he wanted to take it back, but it was too late. Fallenleaf knew it wasn't right for him to accuse Raggedclaws, but what else could have happened? So he stood his ground, determined for an answer. [/font][/blockquote]
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Post by Kathryn on Jan 28, 2011 10:08:13 GMT -8
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“What happened, Raggedclaws? What did you do to her?" As soon as the words left the Medicine Cat’s maw, the ebony tom’s muscles rippled under his fur. Something stirred within him; a mixture between boredom, amusement and irritation. Despite the accusation, the tom wasn’t interested in bothering with the crippled cat. Curling his lip up behind the soft eagle carcass in a hidden snarl, he narrowed his golden eyes slightly and batted his tail against a small flower beneath him. Crushing the small petals against the earth carelessly, he continued to walk toward the cat.
“You should be in camp.” Rudeness filled the tom’s voice and he glared as though Fallenleaf was a simple bug in his path; his gaze filled with discontent and blunt, heartless disinterest. Nothing that Raggedclaws thought related to the tom being from FrostClan – it was just that the tom couldn’t even walk properly because of an accident he had as a kit. Regardless, the colossal tom cared little about him and didn’t see how telling him what he had done to Silverclaw was of any importance. However, since he had asked, the tom would answer him.
“Your friend got in my way, didn’t move so I moved her myself, then she tried to claw me and ran off like a mouse. Now you’d better move too, little tom, before I step on you too.” Rather than waiting for the Medicine Cat to move, he barged past him with an aggressive stance, shoulder barely brushing the black and white toms. Pausing for a moment, he snagged the mouse in his claw and tossed it to the blue-eyed cat blankly, letting his voice rumble in his throat as he said, “Now shut up and eat. I don’t feel like babysitting you.” Wrinkling his nose at the AspenClan scent that covered the tom’s fur, he continued back toward the camp, where he threw the eagle onto the Fresh Kill pile and headed back out. Hopefully the two had vanished so he wouldn’t have to put up with them...
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Post by harmony on Jan 28, 2011 13:27:55 GMT -8
Fallenleaf, with his stomach churning in anxiousness, found the tom to be incredibly rude. He was more offended than anything, but what was he going to do? Challenge the black warrior? Yeah, right. Fallenleaf couldn't fight a mouse. And he was a medicine cat, he wasn't supposed to fight any cat, let alone his own clanmate. So all he could do was stare at the warrior with such intensity in his blue eyes as Raggedclaws bashed him with horrid words. Then he tossed him a mouse, treating him like some kit that needed feeding, and walked away.
Fallenleaf was never one for self-pity. But here, now... it was a bad situation to be in for one who always knows what to say. Because the medicine cat had absolutely no idea what words would come out of his mouth. "At least Silverclaw has some decency about her," he muttered mainly to himself, realizing that Raggedclaws would probably not hear him. "You're nothing but a big brute who insists on terrorizing and hurting others. Why do you have to be that way?" The words were pressed and hot in his memory, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into a flashback.
He was standing alone in the FrostClan medicine cat's den. His leg was bound up tight, after being freshly injured less than a moon ago. And his father was there, too, speaking of his name change with the leader. Couragekit, becoming Fallenkit in the following moments, was distraught. He yelled at his father and screamed and cried, especially when his father informed him that he'd be banned from the clan. Just because he'd hurt his leg. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair.
"You're horrible!" the kit screamed in protest as he tried to claw at his father, who simply acted like nothing was happening. "You're nothing but a big brute who insists on terrorizing and hurting others. Why do you have to be that way?" his voice was hoarse, and tears were running down his fur. But his father stayed nonchalant to him, nudging him away in shame. Fallenkit was crushed, crying and screaming curses at his father. But those paws just walked away, leaving a trail of broken dreams behind him.
The medicine cat opened his pools of blue, looking around at the vivid colors of AspenClan. He sighed, pushing the prey into the bushes and headed to the pool. The stars smiled up at him from the rippling water, and he relaxed, still sitting, and positioned his leg. Why did this happen to me? What did I do wrong? he wondered as he often did, splashing his reflexion with distaste. But it came back, no matter how many times he swiped at it. [/color][/font]
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Post by Kathryn on Jan 29, 2011 6:58:57 GMT -8
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Returning to Reflection Pool, Raggedclaws had been thinking about what to say to the cat who had again ‘insulted’ him, though he had only heard the first part about decency as he walked away. Upon reaching the Medicine Cat, Raggedclaws walked up close so he towered above the tom, uncaring if he was intimidating the cat. Thick fur draping over his body as it dried, he swished his branch-like tail to thump the ground idly. Half-closed eyes stared down at him with yet again more unimpressed, uninterested features to them. However, he was standing behind the tom, but even so the tom knew that the cat was feeling upset. Being banished from FrostClan as a young cat, he had been thrown into the streets to die. Stopping to stare out at the water, Raggedclaws recalled his own past – he had been born into a life-born exile, forced to fight to survive, having his parents abandon him to weak deaths. Several times he had almost died from hunger and he had learned that you either killed or were killed. Of course, as a young six moon old, immature tom, he had wished that he would just die so he wouldn’t have to put up with any more suffering... But he had survived. That had to mean something, and so had Fallenleaf.
Thoughts of what he would do to Fallenleaf left his mind and instead his eyes dulled slightly, almost as if he was deep in thought. Both of them had been young, but hurting terribly deep down. “Forget about it,” the tom rumbled darkly, plopping down beside the small cat. Truthfully, Raggedclaws would have loved to get his claws around the smaller cat’s father and teach him about loving his son. Though his voice was deep, it was somewhat filled with a soothing quality. Passing his eyes, which still had little emotion in them, Raggedclaws observed the tom as he swiped at the pool and he reached out with his paw, pointing at the reflection with sharp claws unsheathed. “This,” he muttered simply, “is who you are, Fallenleaf. You may not like it but you can’t change it.” Pausing for a moment, Raggedclaws snorted, realising that he had never been one for comforting other cats. Usually he was used to letting them get on with their own lives, but pity washed through him for Fallenleaf, not that he would admit it. “But look at what you are, what you have become. You survived the injury,” he flicked his tail gently against the tom’s leg, “and now you have purpose.” Referring to healing other cats, he noted. “Your father rejected you because he thought you were weak. Those kinds of cats aren’t worth thinkin’ about, and you don’t have to keep draggin’ yourself back to put up with that. Fact is you proved that you’re stronger and better than that useless dungheap will ever be. If he truly cared about you he would have accepted you and helped you to grow up with your leg. Instead the coward fled like a rabbit being cut down by an owl and left you alone to die.”
Suddenly he paused again, thinking about what he was going to say next. However, his ears rotated around and the tom swept his tail around the surface of the water, sending shudders spreading over the pool. “That kind of dung I can’t stand. Stop worrying about it and get on with your life. Keep lettin’ it hold you back and you’ll never move on. I think you have more right to do that than any other cat.”
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Post by Juniper on Jan 30, 2011 11:12:29 GMT -8
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The pale she-cat limped back to camp, her mouth twisted as if she refused to display her pain. Certainly, Raggedclaw’s shove wasn’t meant to inflict harm, but as she crashed into the tree, she had reopened her snake wound. As she padded back to the Warriors’ den, dripping blood down her left haunch, she brushed past Fallenleaf, the Clan Medicine cat. Lip curling with contempt at the hatred that had spawned between him and her just the day before, she quickened her pace.
Fallenleaf ignored her, instead calling out to the bulky Warrior behind her. However, when Raggedclaws snarled back a reply, she had to say something. Her pride wounded more than her snake bite, she retorted, “What he did, was be a traitor. Just because I decided to find something useful for him to do, he attempted to attack me. When he nearly drowned in the Reflection Pool, I tried to save him. And what thanks do I get?” Okay, well that was twisting the truth more than she had intended. Indeed she was the best at lying, but today her nerves were taut with fury. Hopefully, Fallenleaf would believe her story, just because Raggedclaws was such an unlikable character.
The enormous Warrior flicked a rat by Fallenleaf’s paws and trundled off to camp. Silverclaw watched with large amber eyes, staring blankly and emotionlessly. I don’t deserve this. Just because I wasn’t born in this Clan, she thought bitterly. Oh, how she longed to return to her true home, where she would be known for her talents, her wisdom. Where she could properly thrive. Where she wouldn’t have to put up with such brutes as Raggedclaws anymore. Oh if only she even knew where her home was.
Her jaw clenched, her claws sinking into the soft earth, she struggled to remember her mother – just one glimpse. Eyes clamped close, she thought she could see a light gray mass staring coldly at her. It glared at her before turning away. Silverclaw felt as if that were a frequent occurrence, her mother neglecting her again. Mother? Shivering, she cracked her eyes open and turned to Fallenleaf. His ocean blue eyes reflected the pain and hurt she was feeling. For a while she forgot she hated him, forgot the secret she knew of him, and shared the somewhat similar bond they had.
But Raggedclaws returned, and she snapped back to the present. Haughtily, she stalked off, the moment lost. When she reached camp, she gazed about blearily. She picked a starling from the pitifully small fresh-kill pile and tore at its wing, brooding. Sun-high had arrived by now, and the Clan was full of activity. Although it was packed with busy cats, Silverclaw felt more alone than ever.
“Silverclaw speaks” Silverclaw thinks Silverclaw does
Word Count; 457 Tags; Raggedclaws and Fallenleaf OoC; Sorry, best I could do.
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Post by Kathryn on Jan 31, 2011 13:53:26 GMT -8
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Truthfully, Raggedclaws had had quite enough of Silverclaw and her lies as he followed her back to camp to talk to the she-cat. Really, drowning? Finding something productive to do? Spinning around to loom over the she-cat, he glared at her with his tail swinging darkly, his eyes mere slits but still filled with barely any emotion. Clearly, though, the massive ebony tom was not impressed.
“Really, Silverclaw...?” Darkness filled the ebony tom’s voice. Sun-golden eyes pierced straight through the she-cat like claws as he narrowed his eyes further. “Accusing me of being a traitor when you are lying through your teeth? Really, I was drowning in the shallow part of the pool, washing my fur with all four paws on the ground?” Wrinkles creased his muzzle and he frowned, shaking his head like he was staring at a rat trying to creep up on a Warrior. “You tried to claw me and you failed. Do you think that I will fail if I were to try it on you? I doubt it. I don’t need help finding something to do, so why don’t you shut up and start telling the truth for once?” Turning slowly to leave, he avoided hitting Silverclaw with it and snorted absently. However, the scent of blood caught his nose and he spun around, slamming his paw gently into Silverclaw’s side to pin her to the ground. Golden eyes landed on her shoulder; a bite wound, from most likely a snake. Growling darkly, the tom bent his head and pressed a rough lick over the wound, cleaning it gently. Glaring at the she-cat angrily, he lifted his head when he was done, keeping her pressed firmly against the ground.
“Stupid she-cat,” he muttered. Wrinkling his nose at her wound, he released her and began thumping toward the edge of camp. “You should be more careful when you find snakes.” Padding further out into the Territory, he paused and sniffed the air, his ears flicking slightly before a snake leapt out at him with an angry hiss. Just before it struck, his paw smashed into its face, sending it flying back into a rock before he stepped on it, crushing its tiny skull. Snagging its body up in his claws, he turned back and tossed it toward the she-cat with a bored look on his face.
Snorting slightly once more, he was about to leave when a flash of ginger flame caught his eye, and he batted Silverclaw out of the way as a pair of jaws aimed for her throat. Drawn by the scent of drying blood, the fox had come to seek out prey, but Raggedclaws would be dead before he let such a repulsive, ugly creature hurt Silverclaw. Instead of catching her, though, the fox’s jaws sunk into his shoulder and his eyes blazed with anger as they landed on the amber-eyed beast. Young fox, he noted, it was small; not fully grown yet. Whipping around with his teeth, he caught the small beast in its throat and pulled, dragging the light, thin predator away from his shoulder to hit the floor. Despite this, at the same time he had torn a large gash there, which released a thick scarlet liquid from his body. Instead he let out a dark laugh from his throat and returned the treatment to the cat, showing no signs of being bothered by any pain. “Come on then! Let’s see what you got!”
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ember
stayWITHus__
[M:0]
[ss:cant take it back]
Posts: 52
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Post by ember on Jan 31, 2011 21:49:31 GMT -8
Lightningfoot lazily padded to the Reflection Pool, hoping to see her parents in it's depths. She passed Fallenleaf and Silverclaw. Silverclaw looked like she was bleeding, Fallenleaf in shock. "Raggedclaws." Lighningfoot muttered. She padded slowly down the path, when she saw Raggedclaws. "Surprise, surprise." Lightningfoot said sarcastically when she saw what Raggedclaws was doing. Fighting a fox. Of course.
Lightningfoot examined the enemy. "Light on it's paws." She muttered in Raggedclaws ear. "Sharp claws, but they're not long." She started going into list-off-battle-tactics mode. "Aim for his-" She stopped. "Sorry." She muttered, backing off. Raggedclaws had obviously been bored all day, so now he was taking the edge off his boredom.
She turned, looking for an opponent to fight as well. "Of course." She said. "Like mother like son." Another, much larger fox was pushing herself out of the the bushes. "Raggedclaws." Lightningfoot muttered, tapping the tom with her tail. "Mother fox coming on your right. I'll take the son, you get the mom."
She both her back to the tom, so that they were back to back. "When you say go, cause I don't say go." Lightingfoot muttered to her old idol. "Ready?" She slid her long claws out, letting them go deep into the earth. The ferocious she-cat twitched her ear, excited. "Raggedclaws." She muttered, hoping the tom had heard her before.
235 words
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Post by Juniper on Feb 11, 2011 20:18:35 GMT -8
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The she-cat’s fangs were bared, her claws raking the earth as if harming it would somehow wound the burly tom before her. How dare he label her a liar… But she really couldn’t respond to that, as it was technically a lie. So she merely lashed her tail, whipping it against her unwounded flank while wishing it was curled around Raggedclaws’s neck instead. After a moment, she managed to control her anger, envisioning all her negativity sink into the ground like the cool rain that sometimes pattered against her fur. For additional effect, she squeezed her eyes shut as the brute’s harsh words grinded in her ears.
Finally, she sensed the absence of his presence and allowed her amber eyes to show. She had barely begun to twitch a paw when the midnight black Warrior suddenly sprang around and shoved her to the ground. Indignant eyes flashed with renewed anger. A quick paw slashed his skin as he leaned as if to bite her shoulder. Instead, he gave it a cursory licking, grumbling something or other. So surprised was she, that she simply couldn’t react. She lay on the dew-sprinkled ground like a dead piece of fresh-kill. Her eyes sought his, full of uncertainty.
Shaking paws brought herself up to a crouch. Raggedclaws lumbered away, straight into the path of a snake, by the looks of it. Well either that or a twig. In one stroke, he crushed its head and rolled it to her. Silverclaw stared at the package he sent, her dark eyes hiding the fear she had obtained since her snake wound. Cautiously, she sniffed it. The scent of the serpent mingled with something else… perhaps a fox. But why would a snake smell like a fox… Oh. For just then, an explosion of scarlet attacked the larger Warrior.
As Raggedclaws swung heavy paws at the attacker, a sooty black cat approached the scene. Silverclaw’s amber eyes flicked from the snake, to the fighting, to the new cat who’d arrived. She had barely time to assess its appearance before it spoke. Raven’s fur brushed her flank, and yellow eyes gleamed from the black background. When the dark she-cat spoke, it was with a tone that oozed sarcasm. Flashing her an annoyed glare, Silverclaw buried the snake for later and twisted her tail, entwining it with her paws. Despite the somewhat nice actions Raggedclaws made, she refused to help him. However, a much bulkier bundle of fiery orange emerged from the nearby thicket. Immediately, Lightningfoot, the newcomer, sprang to attack it. Silverclaw felt her claws extend, and she pushed off her paws. Like the rushing wind that buffeted her if she wandered out of camp, she pounced on the mother fox, ripping wounds in its belly.
“Silverclaw speaks” Silverclaw thinks Silverclaw does
Word Count; 458 Tags; Raggedclaws, dead snake, two foxes, and one Lightningfoot OoC;
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Post by Kathryn on Feb 13, 2011 10:06:57 GMT -8
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Irritation sweeping Raggedclaws’s body, he was about to tell Lightningfoot to take her advice and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, but he was more focused on the mother fox. She was big; he smiled menacingly, his golden eyes shining like two suns as he spread his claws over the ground. Pushing his claws into the ground with anger when Silverclaw stole his combatant, he decided to attack anyway; it was her fault for getting in the way. Charging into the fox’s waiting jaws, he lunged up to force its head up. This tactic was designed to inflict a wound on the neck; but who needed tactics? Snorting like there was a butterfly on his nose, the tom dug his claws into the fox’s shoulders and pulled. The fox suddenly jerked, her irises sharpening instantly as she lashed out to smash Raggedclaws over the eyes with a paw.
Naturally this shoved him back slightly but he kept his balance. Normally he would have had no problem taking on this fox, but since Silverclaw was slashing at its belly, there was a restriction on his movements. This jarred his nerves to their limits and his jaws clenched so hard that his head shuddered. Before he could move again, he noticed that the fox was lunging for Silverclaw again.
“Get your tail out of the way!” He roared, leaping straight into the mother fox’s side and sending her crashing against the nearby tree. With a claw he aimed to scoop Silverclaw away from the fox and push her to safety, but he didn’t know why. Getting on his nerves would give any cat a death warrant in Raggedclaws’ mind, but why did he protect her? Sinking his teeth into the fox’s hind leg, he yanked hard on it and began trying to force the female to fall. Not only would it hurt her, it would allow Raggedclaws to pin her down...
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