symptoms of withdrawl>>>moonflake and cursedflight

[Aяαsнï]

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[atrb=width,300,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=395e66] what am I doing? what am I saying? what am I thinking? what are they saying? Color filled the blank darkness that had been Cursedflight's dreamless sleep. She desperately hoped it might be a dream, but no. Just dawn's sunshine breaking through the clouds. She twitched her tail. Why couldn't the sun just stay behind that cloud and let her fall asleep once more? She sighed, turning the air in front of her cloudy. Urgh...too cold to get up. Go away, sunlight. Let me sleep, let me sleep... her mind pleaded. She rolled over to try to simultaneously warm her cold back and escape the sun, when she slammed her nose against the wall. That woke her up. Morning dust settled inside her nose, and Cursedflight sneezed fitfully to get rid of it. The other warriors in the den who were heavier sleepers than she was lazily scolded her, then fell back into sleep. She shrugged off their scolding, not entirely knowing what they had said. But, if StarClan wanted her to get up, then that is what she would do. She yawned luxuriously, shoving more morning dust in her nose, and quieted the sneezes that followed. She stretched out her spine, quietly cracking something, and padded outside. Cursedflight's eyes narrowed at the sun's irritating glare, and she willed a cloud to pass in front of it. She looked up, and saw that the wind was contradicting her prayer, and blowing any clouds far away from the sun. She sighed again, blowing a puff of warm air into the chilly atmosphere. All of the warriors that were awake were groggily doing their business, whether it was chatting, sunning themselves, or whatever. Cursedflight didn't really see anyone padding over to her to tell her what to do, and she had no friends to do anything with, so she padded out of camp, unnoticed by the other warriors. Or they could just not care. Whatever. Either way, she was exiting camp to do some dawn hunting to stretch her limbs. Cursedflight's paws ached on the frosty ground. She licked the frost off of them, and placed them down again, leaving wet pawprints on the earth. She finally found a nook in the frosty dawn forest, and waited for a sound of prey. After a few minutes, she heard a sound of scuffling feet, and pounced in the direction of it. Right on her tail. She screeched in pain before she could halt herself, and heard the sound of prey fleeing. Foxdung! Her tail had been swishing from the cold, and had mimicked the sound of prey. She cursed her clumsiness and padded off to another sector of the forest. So cold it was. She settled near a thorn bush coated with iridescent frost and waited. She kept her tail still this time, waiting for the prey sound or scent to appear. Instead, she heard the faint, but soothing sounds of the morning. Leaves rustling, wind whistling, distant sounds of cats milling around. And one that seemed close...someone coming? Cursedflight hid deeper in the shrub. She didn't want to be seen, and her oddly colored pelt helped her seem just like part of the shrub. She pricked her ears and tested the wind. Finally, the wind was helping her by blowing her scent downwind. She smiled, rustling the plant, and quickly stopped. Now, again, all she had to do was play the waiting game. Watch and wait...watch and wait...wait for the intruder... notes;; cursedflight begins..fun fun fun! word count;; 575 muse;; 5/10 And yet I push you away...

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[flint]

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[atrb=background,http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb404/InfernoLarka/Moonflake2.jpg] His paws drummed out a steady rythm as he ran, ears flickering out every few moments. His eyes were brighter then they'd ever been; he could forget his troubles when he ran. He enjoyed that; it made him feel.... normal. He slowed to a walk, letting the beat of his run echo in his mind, giving him something to hum to. Of course, this led to a tune, and eventually, a song. He let out a silent breath, and then his voice rose up in the quiet morning, cutting through the clear air with a deep, resonating sound. He had a beautiful voice, but rarely did anyone either then him hear it- he wasn't what you'd call social. If you're like us, calling all riders, roll up beside us, no place to hide us, His ears swiveled round, catching the sound of something. He paused, letting the words of the soung swirl through his mind as he listened for the quiet noise again. There! He slipped into a crouch, moving forward so quickly that it would have been hard to keep track of him. His pawsteps were silent though, and not a leaf was ruffled as he moved toward his objective. Muscles tensed and released as he sprang, claws out. A simple flick off the ground, and he was several feet in the air, claws wrapped around a branch. He swung his weight up and landed swiftly before diving forward, to another branch. all freedom fighters, let's unite us, switch on your nitrous and...let's.. go... Destination, for navigation He froze, claws fastened into the bark, gaze locked on a large robin that was preening it's feathers on the branch just ahead of him. His muscles coiled once more and his forepaws shot out, claws flicking across the bird's throat. It's wings flew out and it plummeted from the branch, dropping into a bush below. He was about to drop down after it when he heard the noise of impact. His ears immediately flattened. That was not the sound of a bird hitting the ground, that was the sound of a bird hitting flesh- or rather, a cat. The slightly hollow ring of the noise gave him the idea that it had hit someone's head... Now let's make it loud, let's show 'em all how you move to this phenomenon, roll! Instinct rushed through him, and his claws dug out further. His jaws tightened and his muscles flooded with adrenaline, as years of training rose up from the pit he had forever condemned it to. He shook his head fiercely, refusing to listen to the voice that whispered in his mind, to slash with claws and bite with jaws, to enjoy the kill... His claws dug even deeper into the branch as his eyes narrowed fiercely. "I. Am. Not. A. Cold-Blooded. Murderer." He snarled under his breath, very nearly throwing himself off the edge of the branch. Open your soul, maybe lose control inside of this phenomenon, just let your self go... He slipped his hindquarters off the branch, dangling by one forepaw before letting go and twisting to land in the perfect battle position. A low growl rumbled in his throat. "Who's in there?" He hissed, tail whipping back and forth. "And give me my bird!" His paw swiped forward, parting the leaves of the bush. Moonflake stiffened, hooking his bird with one paw and stepping aside, holding the branches back so that the cat could step out without having to shove through the scratchy twigs. "Cursedflight." He mewed, his silver gaze flat as he greeted her with a dip of his muzzle. He wasn't good with words, never was, really. He'd always wondered about the anti-social she-cat, wondered what her story was, and if it was as horrid as his own... Singing "Talking" Doing

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[Aяαsнï]

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[atrb=width,300,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=395e66] what am I doing? what am I saying? what am I thinking? what are they saying? Thwack! Cursedflight's eyes glazed as something slapped her forehead. The world around her fuzzed and blurred into static, then cleared. A dead bird lay at her paws; a robin, freshly caught. She sunk down within the shrub, and raised her head to see a cat...by the scent and appearance it appeared to be...Moonflare? Moonshine? Moon-something. A flake of plant dust flew past her nose, and she suppressed a sneeze. That's it! Moonflake. What in StarClan's name is he doing here? And why in StarClan's name did he hit me with a dead robin?! She found her teal eyes narrowing, and she suppressed scolding the tom with her rarely-used tone. She didn't want to give away her position or make herself sound superior toward the first cat that had ever approached her in...moons? Years? She heard Moonflake mumble something, and felt an odd chill down her spine. Was that what he had said? I. Am. Not. A. Cold-blooded. Murderer. Well, of course he wasn't! Unless...he had been at some point...no. That couldn't have been true. Cursedflight had an urge to run like heck back to her nice, cozy, den...but then what? Give away herself? Force herself to talk to somebody with this rumor of her 'curse?' When StarClan froze over. And when hedgehogs grew wings. She let the shudders pass, and perked her ears out of the bush to listen for more. Who's in there? And give me my bird! Cursedflight wanted to shout at him for this comment; he was the one who dropped the robin on her head and she should not have to properly answer him until he apologized. It was the rules of the Clan society! She stuck her blue-grey-green tail into the air in disgust. Cursedflight. Half of her thought Foxdung! Captured! while the other half thought What gave me away; the blue ears or the green tail? Cursedflight defied both parts and stuck her head up in a polite manner, beaming up at the tom. Hello, Moonflake! she meowed politely and cheerfully. I'm sorry, but I can't climb a tree I can't reach, and I can't make this robin fly toward you by itself. Would you mind coming down and getting it? She felt like she was gushing, and nearly blushed from sudden self-consciousness. But she couldn't now! Not when the first cat in moons to approach her and (though vaguely) talk to her was here! Her attitude toward the other cats of SoulClan, or other cats in general, shifted completely as she padded quietly out of the forest shrub, grabbing the robin gently in her jaws. She placed the fat red bird on the earth in front of her, and strained her neck; perhaps she had caused some damage when her face hit the wall; to look up at her 'intruder.' He was bowing his head, hiding a nearly invisible look of wonder. She had never seen Moonflake hanging out with any of the warriors; perhaps he was...an outcast...too? No. He couldn't have a back-story awful enough to match hers, and therefore couldn't be an outcast. Could he? The morning light snapped her out of this thought by glinting in her eye, and suddenly, Moonflake's pelt looked like just that; a flake of moon dust floating in the air. Whatever words that might have slipped into the cold air ran for cover as her eyes took this in. But then, the light shifted, and she was back in reality once more, back with her own teal eyes and this tom's grey-green ones. He had a tear in his ear and a scar on his eye; why hadn't she noticed this before? Had he been in a fight long ago? She had not seen him fighting recently; but she almost never fought in wars anyway, seeing as no one ever chose her. Her tail flicked her flank to subconsciously remind herself what she was doing. She was suddenly annoyed by his bowed head; she wasn't leader! Yet... she reminded herself. She found words readily filling the air before she had time to filter them, You can stop that bowing now. Cursedflight snapped, then recollected the words, following up with an 'almost apology.' I'm not that important... Now she'd done it! Screwed herself just before she could even meet this tom face-to-face! Being outcasted for so long made her...well, outcasted. After all, she hadn't said anything but 'sorry' in forever and a moon. But she was determined to keep this conversation going past the point of no return...whatever that mean. She sang a short song in her mind to convince herself of this, one her mother had sang to her long ago...before she was Cursedkit... When you feel you're alone Cut out from this cruel world Your instincts telling you to run... Listen to your heart Those angel voices... They'll sing to you They'll be your guide back home...

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She could never remember the rest of it...something about love and blindness...whatever. It was a childhood song, what did it matter? She repeated the song over and over again, convincing herself that she was never alone. She'd always have friends...no matter what.

And of course, Moonflake counted. Why wouldn't he? He was a perfectly good tom, standing in front of her, ready to jump down on the ground...in a space she was taking up. Mousedung! Not another social mistake! She held back a nervous smile, and scooted backward a couple fox-lengths, scooting the robin with her. She was thinking about clawing herself, and her mind switched from the lullaby mantra to loud yells of 'stupid stupid STUPID!'

No. He was still there, she was still here, life was still going. This could still work!

notes;; song is an excerpt from linkin park's "the messenger"
word count;; 1000
muse;; 8.5/10[/color][/center]

And yet I push you away...

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