|
|
Post by Shad on Sept 1, 2015 3:46:42 GMT
Crescent The sun had set some time ago. The earth felt cool beneath the white shecat's massive paws. The Greenleaf trees rustled in a faint wind overhead, their deep green leaves painted over in varying shades of blue, gleaming silver, and shadowy black by the cover of night. The shecat felt her fur shift slightly in the breeze, a tickle of sensation breathing over her dense pelt, not nearly strong enough to penetrate it. There was no scent yet. She let out a small, scared breath of relief. As she watched from her hiding place in a large bush, the shecat's blue eyes seemed to be duller than they had been that morning. As if a film of sorrow or distance had fallen over them. She watched the empty path to the makeshift camp without truly seeing it. The grass was thinner here. A few nights of camping meant the clan cats had flattened most of it into half-worn paths. So many cats passing through. So many scents. So many lives. All brought together by the desire to survive. Crescent supposed the clans and her tribe were not so different in that respect, but the scents here were all wrong. They were the smells of strangers. All these lives were ones she had never been a part of. She could hardly understand how her brother endured it. To go from a place where you know everything about everyone, had known all of them all your life, to an unknown where you nested next to a cat you had only met the previous day. The lynx point could hardly imagine such a thing. She certainly could not imagine ever wanting to live that way herself. All she had ever wanted was her home. The trees shifted overhead, giving a clear glimpse of the moonlit sky overhead, a gentle crescent. The shecat swallowed the lump in her throat and the tears that threatened to well up and spill treacherously from her eyes. She wondered faintly if the ghosts of her kits had found their peace. She looked up to the stars and wondered what color her daughter's eye would have been. They had been born with the most beautiful coats. They had been so perfect, and yet so small. So frail. Tiny noses and claws. Hardly bigger than a young mouse. Crescent supposed she should have known then that they were too young. Maybe clan cats were born so small, but no mountain kit was smaller than a full grown rat at birth. In her mirth and relief at having survived the kitting with all her children, it had never even occurred to her that something could still go wrong. Even now, she bitterly clung to the memory of that perfect moment under the crescent moon when she had pulled her kits close to her and, even battered and bloodied, she had been the happiest she thought she could ever be. A scent floated through the air and Crescent recoiled both from the painful memory and the cat that must be coming from the slumbering bodies of the clan. She could hardly say what she was more fearful of: Being left alone with her ghosts, or being with an untrustworthy stranger when at her most vulnerable. Not that Crescent was ever particularly invulnerable. The shecat rested her head on her paws and curled her tail over her nose. What was she hiding from? Ghosts. Cats. Her past. Her future. The gentle shecat was not meant for this life. She had never wanted it. She might be large and seem fierce to others at first, but she had the heart of a kitten, not a lion. Hollow had sought to be an adventurer, not her. Hollow, her brother, who was strong and fearless. He was larger than life and more powerful than the earth itself. Crescent remembered following after the tom as a young shecat. She remembered running to him when she was afraid and being soothed by his familiar scent. She remembered his warmth at night as he protected her, curled into tight little balls of fur that hardly fit into one nest together. Great stars how she had longed for those things after he was gone. She had never once understood his desire to roam, and now that she had been forced into such a life herself she was only more confused. You know what would make the most sense.Crescent's mind shied away from the thought with a whimper. Yes. Yes, more than once she had considered the one reason Hollow would seek to roam that she would never be able to replicate. It was not as if she had a needy other sister to see if it would drive her away. The shecat had always wondered, always feared, that it might have been her own desperate clinging to her brother that had sent him away. Had she been simply too much of a burden to handle any longer? Had her weakness driven her brother from all their lives? That gut-wrenching fear, more than anything, had kept her from seeking out her brother after he left. Now things were different though. Now she was dying, and she had to know that her brother was happy. That for once in her life of weakness and borrowed strength she had done the right thing, the only thing, she could do for him: Let him go. |
|
|
A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
|
|
|
Post by ♏aple♢ on Sept 1, 2015 17:15:27 GMT
When you get to the end of your rope, Tie a knot and hang on.
High in the sky, a crescent moon shone above the forest. Crickets chirped, owls hooted. The gentle murmur of the pebble pool bubbled in the background, drawing attention from the soft murmurs of cats in their makeshift homes. The days had passed in a blur. With so much to do- so many scents- so many faces- so little sleep- for a cat with sub-par memory, the hours all seemed to bleed into one another. The senses seemed to bleed into one another. The lives seemed to bleed into one another. Starlingfur... had known what to expect when she'd taken on this position. But adrenaline- the heat of the moment and the feeling that there was nothing else she could do, had made her think it would be easier.
It wasn't.
Tabby paws nearly dragged through the grass as a she-cat moved along their paths. Makeshift paths, paths formed unconsciously by so many sets of hardworking paws. Tired paws, in Starlingfur's case. At this moment she looked old beyond her years. Weary copper eyes flicked from one den to the next as she passed them. She didn't like sleeping at night- not usually. The night was her domain. Her kingdom, her sanctuary. But even now she found herself craving the sweet release of sleep. Starlingfur was running on too few hours and too much work.
But what was a cat to do? Being pregnant didn't give her an excuse. She had to work just as hard as any other warrior- if not harder to earn the respect of these cats. Her clanmates, she reminded herself. It was... odd, being in a group like this again. Especially knowing so few cats here. It was like Duskclan all over again. So many things were old, but so many more were new. Like a kit, tripping over her paws to impress her mother. Except she would be the one protecting these cats. Guiding them. Never had Starlingfur been a cat to look to others for guidance, but Starclan could she use some right about now.
Stopping, Starlingfur looked to the sky and sighed. Their mighty warrior ancestors glittered above. Cold, distant, so very unfeeling. She didn't know whether to scowl or pray for her life. For all of their lives. She'd never been the most certain in Starclan's existence. She would preach to the newcomers, but her own faith had never been so stable. She hoped now, that if anybody up there was watching- Starclan, the Place of No Stars... Or something else, that they would send them a miracle. Because pulling cats together like this on her own... No matter how some of them already followed her, it just seemed impossible.
Shaking her head, Starlingfur continued her walk. There wasn't any point in it. If what Eveningblaze had said was true- that Starclan had been silent- if they had abandoned them (if they'd ever even existed in the first place), then there would be no point in wasting her time looking up. Praying didn't get results. She'd long since learned that the hard way. Action did. And action she would preform, pulling these rogues into warriors and lambs into lions. Starclan or no, these cats deserved a better life. And she would do her damndest to create that for them. No matter how many long patrols, sleepless nights, and worn paws it took. She would repeat the code until she was blue in the face if it made these cats believe that they could do this. Even if Starlingfur wasn't so certain that she believed it herself.
A noise caught her ear as she passed through the bushes. Starlingfur stopped, spent copper eyes gaining a sharper edge. A... whimper? It hadn't come from one of the dens- or at least not any of the dens that she knew of. And she'd kept a close eye on the construction. It had stopped as quickly as it had started, and Starlingfur listened carefully. It wasn't until a shifting of the wind that she caught sight of it's source. The smell was reminiscent of the mountains. Stone and earth, overlaid with the fresher scents of basin flowers and underbrush. A she-cat- and a scent she vaguely recognized. One of the group, then? It drifted from a nearby bush, just off the path. Starlingfur padded towards the bush, peering through its thick branches as she approached.
She'd been right- it was a she-cat. Now she remembered the scent's owner. If only because she had to be the largest cat in this group. The massive lynx-point- Starclan, what was her name again? It was so hard keeping track of everyone, especially in this state. "Hello?" Starlingfur called out, cautious. She hadn't come to close to the bush- she still remained a rough tail-length away. So many were still jumpy after the war. She was still jumpy after the war. She didn't want to startle the cat, but she did want to know if anything was wrong. Who here wouldn't have something wrong with them after all of this? an inner voice chided, but Starlingfur ignored it. It was her duty to help these cats- or at the very least to check up on them. Especially now of all times. "Are you alright in there?" she meowed somewhat more softly.
892 words | Starlingfur | Late Night |
|
|
|
|
Post by Shad on Sept 1, 2015 20:53:44 GMT
Crescent The shecat's eyes flashed open to see the cat standing right beside her hiding place. Her face heated in embarrassment and her heart fluttered fearfully. She opened her mouth, the reply to send the stranger off was on the tip of her tongue, when she truly saw the shecat through the leaves. Not that her coat was anything special, or her eyes, or... well, anything honestly. No, it was far more basic than that. The shecat was pregnant. "What are you doing up at this hour?" the lynx demanded, her voice filled with concern as she shot to her feet, shaking the whole bush in the process and sending her head right through the top. "Oof! Gah! Look, come in here. Hurry now. Hurry. I don't want to be spotted."The shecat popped out of the bush with a terribly loud shuddering of leaves and gently, but firmly and insistently, waved the other shecat inside. The large and impressive looking lynx point actually came across more as a persistent and doting old queen who was more mew than claw. Crescent promptly followed the stranger in behind, leaving the path vacant and quiet once more. To say it was cramped, would be to say a shecat with six kits on the way felt 'slightly burdened'. "Now, hasn't anyone told you queens need more rest than the average cat?" Crescent mewed, not cruelly. It was more as if she was personally hurt that a queen would take her own condition so lightly. She took in the stranger's meager frame and half-groomed pelt with an expert eye. She clucked her tongue in disapproval and began washing the stranger's coat - without permission or preamble. It was strange, but she acted so normal and matter-of-fact about it, it was kind of hard to disagree. Besides, free bath! All the while Crescent fussed like an old maid. "Now what makes you think you can just go waltzing around like this, half starved and half kitted? Great stars, the poor dears. You must be very far along, unless - is it a large litter? Ah, those are the happiest of times. I once was Warden to no less than eight kits in one litter. Can you believe it? Their mother, the silly girl, could not figure out what to do with herself." The shecat let out a soft, chuckling laugh that all overly-motherly creatures seem to have mastered before they are beamed down from the mothership -because, let's face it, no one loves kits that much. "She knew she had to keep up on her rations though, and get plenty of sleep. When was your last meal? No. Don't tell me. It will only hurt my heart. Whenever it was, it wasn't soon enough. You need some meat on those bones. Muscle is all well and fine but queens need meat! Oh how excited you must be. I don't suppose you've thought of names?" This time, it seemed, she was actually willing to wait long enough for her poor victim to answer her. |
|
|
A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
|
|
|
Post by ♏aple♢ on Sept 2, 2015 0:31:37 GMT
When you get to the end of your rope, Tie a knot and hang on.
Blue eyes shone from the darkness, and the cat froze. Starlingfur watched patiently, not wanting to move further and startle the cat. But after a few moments silence it seemed like everything started moving at once.
The she-cat got to her paws in an instant, voice both scolding and concerned as the bush shook around her. What was she doing up at this hour? Starlingfur quirked a brow, shifting from one paw to the other. She had a right to be up whenever she liked. Wait- as leader now, shouldn't she be the one asking that question? Starlingfur had opened her mouth to speak when the lynx point went on, pushing her way out of the bush. And it was certainly pushing. It was so loud, Starlingfur was nearly surprised that she hadn't uprooted the plant entirely. This she-cat was larger than she remembered. Or was it just because of the night? She was too confused to be concerned now however as the lynx point began to usher her into the bush.
Starlingfur entered, confusion quite evident in her copper eyes as she took a seat. The she-cat had made quite a bit of room in here for it not actually being a den- but as she reentered, it became evident that the bush had made room for her. It was more than a bit crowded in there with the both of them, and Starlingfur inched away the best she could. She didn't deal well in tight spaces, especially with cats that she didn't know too well. Again she opened her mouth to speak- to ask the she-cat what exactly was going on, but she started talking again. Going on and on about... oh. That.
She'd heard the same from Birchtail, and worried on her own time about the very same issue. Her pregnancy and her overexertion. Staying up too late and walking past time. Now Birchtail, she was used to. But a complete stranger picking her over and scolding like a mother- wasn't this cat younger than her?- and was she... Grooming her? That wasn't what Starlingfur was used to. It took time for her to get used to physical contact with any cat, and she attempted to move away. But there was so little space, and the branches were poking her in the back, and the she-cat was still talking- about how she'd watched the kits of other queens now. That made a bit of sense, but still! Gah! How had she gotten in here in the first place?"
"Excuse me!" Starlingfur finally managed to gasp once she'd gotten a word in edgewise. The cat- Crescent was her name, that was it! Now she remembered. Crescent had asked her about names and finally given her a moment's response time. Starlingfur shivered (of course, what parts of her fur that had been licked down rubbed up against the bush branches and the work was quickly undone). Even her own kits had never been so overzealous!
Straightening out her posture as best she could (she was still hunched over in a bush, after all), Starlingfur sighed. Nerves sparked in her copper eyes, mingling with the stress and exhaustion that already lay there. Where to even begin? "First off... I know full well how much rest queens are supposed to get." Granted, she'd never gotten as much as she should have. "I've had two litters previous. I know what I'm doing." well... mostly. Sort of. Her previous pregnancies had been... stressful, at best. Not to even mention the kits lives after their births. But it wasn't as though she had time now to lounge around the cavern while other cats worked. She'd planned on taking it easy this time. But well... things never did go as planned.
"I would rest if I had the time. But seeing as I've become the leader of this group of cats, I find myself busy most hours of the day." she meowed, voice half sharp and half sigh. Yes... perhaps being leader wasn't exactly the best thing for an expecting she-cat to be doing, but what else could she do? Who else could do this job? Nobody. The rest of the cats in this ragtag clan were either two young, had no leadership experience, didn't wish to take on the responsibility, or hadn't even lived in the clans. So Starlingfur had to do what she had to do.
The idea that she wasn't eating enough was a fair assumption. She'd always been a thin she-cat though. Nothing seemed to change that. Before the gathering she'd been eating well even. Putting on a bit of weight in fact. But now that they'd fallen into a group, she had been eating smaller portions. There just wasn't enough to go around. Not when they were this disorganized, Even in Green-Leaf. But just who was this she-cat to be going off on her like this even so? ".... Names have been discussed. Between my mate and I. But what does it matter to you?" her voice was sharp and her eyes guarded. Maybe it was the lack of sleep making her snappy. Maybe it was the fact that this she-cat was repeating what she'd been telling her own self and worrying about for the past moon. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because she'd been ushered into a bush by a strange cat three times her size who she didn't know and had been groomed and talked at without even a second thought given to her own opinions on the matter!
938 words | Starlingfur | Late Night |
|
|
|
|
Post by Shad on Sept 5, 2015 3:56:19 GMT
Crescent The brown tabby queen fluffed up like she had just been bit by a frog on her rump. Crescent smothered a good-natured chuckle at the sight. She had seen this reaction before, many times. Once she had even been swiped at. No claws of course, but goodness it had been hilarious to see the silly shecat so worked up that day. Crescent had been told she was a very sweet, mild-manner cat but a relentless nag that was scarier than a mountain lion when it came to queens and their kits -and this had been from her best friend who, granted would never been winning any speaking awards for her sharp tongue, but tended to be very accurate. She supposed Raven had been right, but she was not sure she wanted to change, or that she could. She simply loved kits. She understood them. They were the warmth and goodness in the world and made her smile like nothing else did. Like her mate once had. Shying away from the painful thought that threatened to steal her breath, she stopped her cleaning and waited for the cat to finish, nodding her head patiently as the brown tabby let it all out. She stroked her large feathered tail over the queen's tired shoulders as she did so, unable to help her motherly nature. Oh! There were other kits! How darling! She dearly wished to ask what their names had been and how old they were now, but after the queen's first reaction she wisely bit her tongue. Her ears flickered up with interest and down with worry when she learned this was the Leader. Oh. Oops. She had not known Starlingpurr was pregnant. Crescent had never been intimidated by her chief, not in the matter of kits at least. She knew her place as Warden and guarded it fiercely. She had not risen to the position of Head Warden by lacking a strong spine and wiry persistency when it came to the needs of the queens and children under her care. While a gentle cat by nature, she had the heart of a tigress when it came to the wellfare of her family. None of her leaders had ever been able to give her orders on how to do her job. Most did not even try after the first moon. She was too bullheaded with logic that was so quirked and yet straight forward arguing was impossible. But this was not one of her Leaders and she was not Head Warden here. This was her brother's leader and she was just a strange cat. Her brother's Leader. Oh stars. She had just made her brother's Leader terribly frazzled. Crescent's brain began to panic. What would she do? What would she do? She had never been in a position like this before. She knew what was best for queens and kits, she would fight tooth and claw to get them what they needed, but this was Her Brother's Leader! What if he was punished for her thoughtlessness? What if he had to do some awful chore because of her? What if he was exiled? Or worse! What if Starlingpurr assumed her hack-and-slash brother was like her and assigned him to take care of all the kits in the clan? OH HOLY STARS, NO! He would raise them up as absolute barbarians and the clan would be in ruins! SHE HAD JUST DESTROYED HER BROTHER'S CLAN! Its future was one of complete and utter ruin and all the kits would grow up without knowing the first thing about being civilized cats and turn into complete and utter brutes without any manners AND IT WAS ALL HER FAULT!
Crescent's mind scrambled around her large head frantically looking for a way to stop the imminent destruction of the whole of the forest clans that she had unwittingly set in motion. She had to change Starlingpurr's mind! Her brother could not be allowed to be in charge of kits! It would be inhumane! She tried to think of someway to offset the queen's current thinking. Come on, Crescent. You can do this. She's hormonal anyway! Queens change their minds all the time! Oh! But not about their kits! She should never have let on that she knew so much! How much had she let on anyway? Too much! Clearly too much! Her brother was going to be in charge of kits! The large shecat tried to think of something, anything to save the future of her brother's clan from himself and his leader's overzealous need for a Head Warden of Kits. She had to distract her. She could offer to give the queen a bath to help make up for bothering her in order to help her calm down and relax, but she had already been doing that and somehow it seemed to have the opposite effect. Clan cats were so very strange. And she had only met a paw full of them! How was she going to save the future of the clan?! Then Starlingpurr brought up kit names and Crescent's panicking brain was tossed out into orbit at the question that seemed to her to have come out of nowhere. She blinked blankly at the brown leader who was about to make the biggest mistake of her life and completely destroy her clan's future forever and found it difficult to remember what she had been talking about before images of savage half-grown kits with wild eyes and no manners and muddy paws in their nests! had filled her mind. Although, to be completely honest, Crescent often forgot what she had been talking about so this was hardly anything new. "Oh, uhm, er, names?" She asked blankly, trying to clear images of flaming dens burning to the ground and cats running in terror from kits who had never had a proper education which would destroy them all. It was so difficult to think about names at a time like this, and yet she must! She had to distract this foolhardy queen. For the sake of her brother's clan, she would do it. She had to. For the clan! For her brother! And most importantly, for the manners and good rearing of kits everywhere!
"Well, where I come from," Crescent mewed slowly, her voice a bit higher than before as nerves nipped at her chest. The fate of the clan rested on her ability to distract Starlingpurr. She could do this. She was the most distracting cat she knew! "name choosing is a special, family event. The couple and all their closest friends come together to choose names that will ensure the kits who bear them always feel the call of home and hearth when they hear their name. A kit's future is said to be influenced by the name he or she is given if the family bestows the name with all of their love and strength." The large shecat's fear fell away as she forgot her panic and instead remembered the warm nights curled together in a huddle as shecat and tom a like raised their voices to playfully argue and hopefully suggest different names for the proud parents-to-be. As Head Warden, she had almost always been given a seat of honor and her suggestions taken with the highest respect, but that had never been what she enjoyed about such occasions. In fact, it had only made her feel worried and sheepish about saying anything. However, she had loved the sense of togetherness that fed the tribe on those happy eves, the way love and family brought them all together. "My parents had worse luck than most with their names. They sought to name me Avalanche, that I might grow strong, fearless, and as unstoppable as the careening walls of hail and ice that tore down the mountain sides. Instead I just stayed white furred like snow and only became unstoppable once I started talking." The lynx point mewed this last bit with a hint of a mischievous smile. She shrugged her shoulders sadly as the warmth of the memory faded away and she was left simply Crescent, the loner, once more. She offered Starlingpurr a kind hearted smile. "This clan is new from what I can gather. Your friendships not yet bonds and your families small. Cats are still alone in their hearts and wary in their eyes. I thought you might like someone to Name Share with who would only delight in the kits, and never in what burdens they might bring." |
|
|
A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
|
|
|
Post by ♏aple♢ on Sept 5, 2015 18:11:14 GMT
When you get to the end of your rope, Tie a knot and hang on.
Was... This cat okay? Starlingfur quirked a brow as a range of emotions crossed the lynx point's face. Crescent looked as though she'd just witnessed the end of the world. Had... her sharp words hurt the she-cat's feelings? Starlingfur wasn't normally the most abrasive cat, nor did she lose her temper often. In fact, she didn't have much of a clue what would constitute as her losing her temper. Her outburst at the gathering? No, that had been a thing of necessity. This on the other paw... Well, she had a bit of a reason to be uncomfortable. Or unnerved. Or annoyed. But... perhaps she had been a bit short with her. Closing her eyes, Starlingfur sighed slowly. This cat was well meaning. Just looking out for her- even if she had next to no idea who she was. Starlingfur was still.. getting used to these things. But she supposed that she would have to get used to a lot more than this as time went on.
Still, Crescent didn't exactly seem to be saying anything. Was she nervous now? Starlingfur had never been the best at reading cats. Or dealing with anything regarding reading cats. Opening her eyes once more, the tabby tilted her head slightly. Alright, there she went. Names. She certainly seemed nervous as she spoke, but Starlingfur made no comment. Should she... apologize? The last thing that Starlingfur wanted would be to make her warriors uncomfortable. If it was even possible to make a cat three times your size uncomfortable by being a bit short. But that was besides the point! She wouldn't be a leader that ruled with fear. She'd heard of cats like that. Seen and dealt with them, in Crowstar's case. A shudder struck through her heart. That was not the kind of leader she would be. Starlingfur would be a fair leader. An approachable one! Well.... as approachable as a standoffish, quiet, introspective, antisocial, cat like Starlingfur could be. Yeah... she would have to work on that.
She listened as Crescent spoke of naming, and the she-cat seemed to relax as she went on. Starlingfur, surprisingly enough, found herself becoming interested in these.. customs. Where was Crescent from? She hadn't had a chance to talk to every single cat one on one yet. She would assume the mountains- or somewhere around there at least, based on her size. But you never knew. Either way, they sounded... intriguing. A family event? In the clans, only the parents of a litter would generally be involved in the naming of kits. And in rogues, for the large majority only the mothers played a part in their upbringing period. So having parents, close family friends, and possibly other cats involved other than in offhand suggestions was a.. foreign notion. But one that, as she went on, seemed to make sense.
Starlingfur had never... Had the greatest number of friends in the clans. When she'd had her kits, at least. There had been her sister of course, and Shrikestar. Later Rookshadow. But... for a long time, that had been all. Things had changed now, though. She may have lost plenty of friends, but she had gained as well. Not only friends, but experience. She couldn't recall now... It had been so long ago.. But how hard had she and Boltfang thought on the names of their two litters? Not... very, she now realized. A troubled look crossed the she-cat's face. Honestly, she'd just chosen the first litter's names out of what had sounded nice, and what had matched their pelts. When it had come to the second litter, there had been the theme of insects. And their namesakes had ended up matching their personalities, but.. That could have just been coincidence. She loved her kits, and had loved their names. They suited them, even if there was no deeper meaning. Now she began to wonder however.. how deeply did most queens think about their kits names?
She hadn't been the most experienced when she'd had her first two litters. Perhaps she should... think more on what her third should be called. She wasn't so certain on names influencing their lives- after all, that was what a warrior's suffix was for. To reflect the cat that they had become. Their skills and joys. Things to be proud of. But the prefix.. certainly held significance, yes. No matter what changed, that would be what they had always been first. And who knew, maybe it could have something to do with how they turned out. After all, it would influence how others viewed and interacted with them. ".... I..... see..." Starlingfur meowed thoughtfully, a contemplative look spread across her face.
Avalanche. Well, the name would suit her in appearance at the very least. Starlingfur snorted at the words that came after, seemingly relaxing. "Well, their intentions were good..." her voice was amused. If she had been named Avalanche at birth however- how had she come into the name Crescent? Were the cats wherever she was from like the clans, in that cats changed their names? Or... no, maybe she had heard the she-cat's name wrong and was confusing her with someone else. For now, Starlingfur decided it best not to mention it.
It was new. Her- their clan, that was. Barely a quarter moon had passed since its formation. All cats were uneasy, and things were... chaotic, to say the least. Everyone could see that it seemed. Starlingfur sighed inwardly. And yet... Starlingfur was taken aback by Crescent's- or... Avalanche's words. The tabby sat unblinking or a few moments, unsure how to even react. She wanted to....? Starlingfur thought on that for a moment. Certainly she'd spoken with Rookshadow for short periods of time on the matter, but.. This cat did seem genuinely interested in helping- both her and the kits. It was.. unusual in Starlingfur's experience. But she felt strangely touched. After a quiet silence, Starlingfur nodded. "..... Alright. I would... enjoy that." words that she wasn't used to speaking.
"We've.. Birchtail and I that is- my mate.. Have discussed a few options." a few? More like dozens upon dozens. Birchtail was ecstatic about the whole ordeal, suggesting each and every kind of name. There were so many options. Starlingfur wanted to think carefully about this, though. "My previous kits..." should she say? Another hesitation. "... Were named Ravenmist- you'll find her about the camp- Thrushwing, Dapplefall, Cicadasong, Mothfrost, and Waspwing." she explained. Each names that had come to suit them in the end. They were all strong, wonderful, good warriors. Better kits she could have never asked for. Starlingfur couldn't have been more proud, and she'd loved them with all she had. A shadow crossed her eyes, but it quickly disappeared as she went on. "And although we've had... Ideas.... we haven't decided on anything solidly for this litter yet."
1157 words | Starlingfur | Late Night |
|
|
|
|
Post by Shad on Sept 8, 2015 2:08:22 GMT
Crescent The grey lynx felt Starlingpurr's hesitance, even as she began to share. She tried not to let her feelings be hurt. Honestly, she did. She did not know this cat from any other in this strange 'clan', and the queen knew nothing of her. They were strangers to one another. Just strangers. She was a stranger, to everyone, to every cat here, and every cat she would ever meet. She had no Tribe. She had no home. She had no one. The only thing she would ever amount to, to any cat, would be just that: a Stranger. What a horrid life. And it was her life. Crescent's heart clenched as the truth finally hit home. After all these moons of running from it, of pretending everything would be 'ok' if she just kept her head up and kept moving onward, she found the reality of her bleak existence could not be escaped. In her heart of hearts, in the deepest, most secret corner of her soul that she wished never existed, she knew this was how things were. This was how her life would be from now until she died. Her Tribe would never listen to her with Stone's lies ringing in their ears. Crescent was not even sure they should. She was the one that had failed her mate. She was the one that had killed their kits. She had been exiled as surely as if the Chief himself had forced her away. When Starlingpurr spoke of her kits, Crescent could not help but remember her own children. Her first litter. Even though she had been Warden, Head Warden even, for moons and moons, she had never delivered a litter herself. She had always felt so empty, so lonely. All she had ever wanted was a family, but with Stone... she had been afraid. So afraid. She took herbs to keep from ever kitting for a time -until he found out and beat her senseless. When she finally carried her own litter, she had felt whole. She had experienced hope for the future, unlike what she had felt for moons before. Then they died. And she was the cause of it. The pain of the memories nearly brought tears to the shecat's eyes. No, wait, it actually had. Oh bother. Now she must seem a total fool. She tried to blink them away to no avail, then turned her head to cover her face with her tail. "I'm sorry," she mewed. She tried to make her voice light-hearted, choking out a laugh as if she could sweep the wave of sadness away, but her words broke half way through. She cleared her throat and forced herself to continue the apology. "Your kits' names sound lovely. Strange to me, but lovely just the same." Her own kits had lovely names too.
A sob broke though Crescent's chest as that particular memory assailed her. Oh how she could curse the stars for their timing. Starlingpurr knew nothing of her kits or her past. It was not this beleaguered queen's fault she had been through so much in the past few moons, and she certainly did not want to start making an utter fool of herself in front of her brother's chief. At least, no more than she could help. "Sorry," she repeated, trying to pull herself back together. Stars. How long had it been since she let herself fall apart? She had held it all back with admirable strength, a strength Crescent herself had no idea she possessed until she had set out on this mission, and now here she was with her chest breaking in two when she had only a few more pawsteps to the finish line. The bleak, black abysmal finish line that waited at the end of her journey. "We... uhm," Crescent fought to steady her quivering voice, "...all have ghosts hiding in our dens," she mewed, "Mine seemed to have popped out unexpectedly on me. So sorry. Truly. Please, give me a moment." |
|
