An Unwilling Listener

[[C] a l y p s o]

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[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=f4edbf] The sun beat down upon his pelt and sparkled on the nearby stream so that his reflection glowed when he bent down for a drink. Small silver fish swam by, not enough for a meal, but enough for a small hungry tom. His stomach rumbled just at the thought. Sandpaw circled, or rather jumped across the mini-stream back and forth. There was a small gully under the water where she could see the tiny fish. So beautiful, he murmured, So....different, the speckled fish swam in small groups, and unlike the usual gray-silver fish that was usually brought back to camp, they were rainbow colored, glinting in the small rays of sunlight that snuck under the gully, welcoming them like a long lost friend. He sat down, careful not to let his shadow fall into the stream like what the elders advised him to do if he ever went out fishing. Though, it was a bit uncommon for AspenClan to fish, it wasn't banned and His eyes glinted, his claws unsheathed ready for a catch. He stared at the small fish unmoving. His eyes were soft and filled with wonder at the weird way the fish acted. Weren't fish usually solo? Didn't they just, you know, fend for themselves? She never saw them in 'clans' like his own when he had traveled near a river or stream. Then again, he didn't usually come this way for herbs so he never really would have seen it, and so far, he hadn't been out of camp in some time --well....except a few couple of days ago, but that didn't really count, did it? The wind soared through the trees, making his pelt rustle. It was new-leaf, and the creamy whiteness that covered the tree tops and grass at his feet, was slowly starting to fade away. The atmosphere lost its density, making it hard to breathe. When you blew outward, you could see the steam from your warm breath, radiating in the air. He didn't understand why the fish were out. It was pretty cold, even if today was warmer than usual. Except for the drastic temperature change, everything was normal. He smiled as the soft coldness rained from the sky. Snow. That was what it was called right? Amazing. He had heard tales from the elders that the streams and rivers usually froze when it was cold, sure, it was new-leaf, but it was still freezing. He shivered as he looked out across the territory. Oops, standing, he accidentally let his shadow fall into the water, scattering the fish. He sniffed, he wasn't FrostClan anyway, but then again, it was nice to try. It was one of those rare days that Sandpaw was happy. For some reason, he felt light, and as carefree as he'd ever been. Of course, being the unlucky tom that he is: Ouch! Foxdung, he looked down at his paws, a sticky, maroon trail of blood flowed from a scratch in it. He sat down to inspect it. Puss oozed out from the spot, and he winced it pain. Urg, it was bad enough that he had to tend to others' wounds, but now he had to get hurt as well? Only StarClan could grant him this horrifying luck. Groaning, he pulled the thorn from his foot. Chervil, right? That's what he needed. Reluctantly, he got to his paws and limped toward the eastern side of the territory where he knew where some herbs grew. He padded forward for a while, until sleep nestled itself under his eyes. Mousedung, I can't sleep now, but despite his words, he soon found himself dozing off. Awakening, he looked around at his surroundings. His eyes widened as he didn't recognize where he was, opening his mouth, he let the scents come familiar with him. It smelled like AspenClan and looked like it too, yet, strangely, it looked entirely different, and gave off an entirely different smell as well. Hello? he called out. tag|} Vanya! -- muse|} FAILFAILFAIL-faceplant/headdesk- -- word count|} 805 Comments;; I was literally scraping my mind for muse, this is a real failure >.> running away from Silversoul wait..were you talking? fuming about the medicine den "Sandkit wants you to be quiet"

[✄ – – – VANYA!]

[atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/099/2/e/large_texture_1_by_topassilem-d3dk513.png); background-position: left top, bTable][cs=3] in the scheme of things we're nothing at all,
	[rs=2] It was a cool day...the ground under his paws was smooth and slightly moist, indented just so under his weight. Everything was so real in the realm of StarClan...when he'd first died, he'd thought he'd miraculously survived the wound in his throat. But when his mother, Flyleaf, stood over him, her mottled pelt darker even than his own, he knew. He'd left the world of the living. It was a comfort, even though he was away from his Clan and the ones he held dear. Now he could watch them from the clouds, ensure that they are safe. Particularly Eagle - ...no, Scarredstar. It was hard to get used to the change of name. When he'd watched over Scarredstar's warrior ceremony, he felt a terrible twinge in his belly. Scarredface. Such a brutal name! His one-eyed son was torn, but he was good under pressure. He'd nodded and been proud, even though the name clearly hurt him. And now he was leader. Mottledfoot was so proud. But there was something clouding his happy thoughts of his son. He knew something...something terrible. And that was what he was here for. He walked through the ever-changing landscape, his feet making no sound on the forest floor. The sun peeked through the leaves, blending his pelt into his surroundings. It was as though he wasn't there at all. He came upon a small sandy tom. He knew this cat: Sandpaw, the medicine cat apprentice. Just the cat he needed to see. He walked over, lightly, his bright yellow eyes gleaming. "Hello, Sandpaw," he meowed gently. He sat quietly in front of the yellow tom. "My name is Mottledfoot, and I have a message for you." He studied the cat. Oh, how he wished he could tell him thoroughly what was wrong! But he could only hint and allude. "Flame will destroy the peace, and clouds will hide the light."
WORDS !? 319 TAGS !? sandpaw NOTES !? ehhh. CREDIT !? celadine of ote