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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Oct 25, 2015 20:55:39 GMT
I may have the face of an angel
But I sure as hell don't act like one
Finally, an apprentice of her own! Oh, Turtlefrost had been just as happy as a snake in a bird's nest when Duskblaze had named her the gray and white tom's new mentor. Steampaw. Steampaw. A big tom. A strong tom. One who would do the clan proud! And one who, if that incident with Cedarclan was any indication, didn't turn cheek to outsiders. Sure, she wasn't his first mentor. But Turtlefrost would be damned if that would stop her. Yep, Turtlefrost was right determined to turn Steampaw into one of the best warriors that Marshclan had ever seen. That... wouldn't exactly be a hard feat, considering that the clan was only a pawful of moons old and the number of warriors that Marshclan currently had was about the same, but STILL!
Tornpelt had probably taught him the very basics. Clan code, how to mark borders, yadda yadda yadda. But today, Turtlefrost would test how much the she-cat had really taught him. Fighting! Honor! Pride! The real building blocks of clan life! Oh yes. Turtlefrost would be the best mentor in this clan. And Steampaw would be the best apprentice. Turtlefrost was sure of that. A tom as big as that? There was no way he wasn't gonna be a great warrior!
"Aaaaaand here it comes!" The two were making their way through the marsh. Turtlefrost at the lead, Steampaw dragging a bit behind. Was he still upset about having his mentor switched? Or was it the Cedarclan thing? Feh. You know what would help with a bad mood? BATTLE TRAINING! That was what had always gotten Turtlefrost riled up as a kit! Whenever she needed to take out her Duskclan frustrations or a bad argument with her fellow apprentices, she'd just go right to her mentor Rookclaw and ask for some good ol fashioned stress relief! Much more useful. Anything could be resolved with a good fight. It was the Thornclan way! The warrior way! And the two of them were finally approaching the mossy hollow.
There was a spring in the dappled she-cat's step as she leapt forward, bouncing off of the springy moss and towards the center of the hollow. Creeks bubbled, birds chirped, the sun shone... A perfect day for training. A wry grin was on the warrior's face as she gracefully turned to face her apprentice. "Steampaw, I'll tell you what. You're gonna be the best warrior that Marshclan has ever seen. And before you say 'well that's not saying much'- I'll tell you one thing. I'm one of the best mentors in this clan. And you know why that is?" she barely waited for a response, blue eyes bright and full of excitement. "Because I have experience. Born and raised in the clans. I can teach you everything you need to know to be the best cat you can be. And I'll do it, too. Because you- you're the future of this clan, kiddo! The next generation. My apprentice. We're gonna show those rulebreaking Cedarclan idiots that we won't be messed with, and we're gonna show the rest of the Marshclan warriors just how much spirit we've got. Yeah?" Her pale teeth sparkled in a grin that was far too wide. Oh, she was so excited for this. HER FIRST APPRENTICE! THIS WAS TOTALLY AWESOME!
570 words | Turtlefrost | Late Morning |
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Post by Kibbles on Oct 28, 2015 22:43:45 GMT
Steampaw shifted from paw to paw as he looked up at his mentor. He followed her slowly, paws dragging. He sighed as she spoke so highly of him and he just. He just couldn't do this. He should have died along with his brothers. but instead, he had been the one to survive. He had always been the weak one. And yet, something happened to his siblings that hadn't happened to him. Death took them in its claws and left him do be with his father.
He just looked at her and gave her a small smile when she said he was the future of the clan. That wasn't a very good outlook. At least, not to him. He gave her a nod. "What are we going to do today? I mean, I can fight some. My dad taught me how to do that."
His father also threatened him and gave him new wounds every time the went out and had their "lessons". But he would never mention that to anyone. Never. No. He couldn't. His father would kill whoever he had told and then continue. He couldn't give that fate to anybody.
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Oct 28, 2015 23:46:05 GMT
I may have the face of an angel
But I sure as hell don't act like one
Getting right into it! Cutting to the chase! Wasting no time! Turtlefrost liked that. It meant determination. Hey, not every moment had to be filled with idle chitchat! "Battle training is what we'll start with." Turtlefrost confirmed, flicking her ears to beckon him forth. She then began to circle. Carefully- almost leisurely. As if she were walking through camp. But there was a keen flicker to her eyes. A dominant flicker. A hunter's flicker as they watched a hare, judging for any sign of intent to bolt. "Did he now?" she questioned, her tone drawn and eyes narrowed. Stagheart was... A cat. Or was he an ass? With a size like that, it was hard to tell what animal he was.
"And I suppose ol' Rippedface has taught you a thing or two too?" she implored, whiskers twitching. Tornpelt. A strange cat. A cat who she didn't trust, and a cat who didn't trust her. A cat who scared the kits just by looking in their direction. A cat who, if her appearance was any judge, was a seasoned fighter. And yet had resigned as Steampaw's mentor after the death of that Cedarclan apprentice. What sort of mentor would do such a thing- and why? It was all veeeeery curious. But o matter what kinds of cats his previous teachers had been, Turtlefrost was determined to be a better mentor to Steampaw. than the both of them combined. "I'll teach you more than they could ever dream." her voice was nearly a hiss, laced with excitement. "Honor! Loyalty! Clan values! And of course..." she grinned that sparkly grin. "Fighting."
Facing him fully now, Turtlefrost locked her legs into place. Head lowered, fur sharp, ears perked. "Now show me what you've already got."
311 words | Turtlefrost | Late Morning |
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Post by Kibbles on Oct 30, 2015 0:57:26 GMT
Steampaw watched her carefully, eyes narrowing a bit as he listened to her words. He moved with her, making sure that he never had his back towards her. His blood was pumping after the comment about Tornpelt. He felt it boiling deep within him and it got hotter and hotter with every word this she-cat said.
His violet eyes showed his rage and so did his bristling pelt. He had never felt such a thing, even when fighting the Cedarclan patrol, even when fighting his father. No. He had never felt so... protective over someone in his life. And he loved his father and brothers dearly. Or did he? Everything was so confusing now. Everything except for one thing, though.
"Don't you ever call Tornpelt that again. I refuse to train with you. If you can't show another warrior any respect, then you can't teach me anything about honor or values. You keep smiling over there, but I will not be a part of this. Tornpelt was my mentor and she may have abandoned me, but I will not abandon her," he said, oddly calmly.
He turned and began walking back towards the camp, head low and claws squishing against the cold mud below his paws.
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Oct 30, 2015 3:23:48 GMT
I may have the face of an angel
But I sure as hell don't act like one
What- seriously? Turtlefrost's anticipation turned into indignation as Steampaw turned away. Really. Really? The warrior tilted her head, stance shifting as she rose fully to her paws and cocked her hip with a sigh. Annoyance flared in her eyes, and her wry grin turned to a scowl. Sensitive, much? Didn't he know that talking smack was part of battle training- and there was the fact that Tornpelt's name in itself was an insult? 'If you can't show another warrior respect?' What was he, an elder? Starclan that annoyed her. No, not annoyed. Pissed her right off. Who was this tom to be denying her training? And how she interacted with these rogue savages? Half of them didn't even know the full code, and here he was, denying one of the few cats who did. One of the few cats left who actually lived by it. One of the few cats- if not the only one in this poor excuse for a clan who knew how to actually live like a warrior.
Blue eyes narrowed, Turtlefrost stalked forward, cutting the tom off before he could even leave the clearing. Despite his size, he was young. And she still stretched above him. "Now you listen here." she growled, moving forward and looking him in the eye. "You are my apprentice. You don't get to pick and choose your mentor, got it? I know more about honor and values than most of the cats in this place. Most of the cats left in the forest. Duskblaze reassigned you to me for a reason. If you don't get that, then you must be the one without any sense for clan values." she snorted. In all her years, she'd never seen an apprentice disobey their mentor in such a way. And Thornclan apprentices were feisty! What a mess Tornpelt had made of this one.
But still. What in Starclan's name had that wretched thing done to earn this kit's respect? What did she even do? She never talked to anyone. She avoided quesstions. She slept alone. She didn't share tongues. She scared kits and loners alike, and turned away every cat who tried find out what was going on. She might as well not even be a warrior. She was a rogue, and looked like one too. And yet somehow, she seemed to be gathering a little horde of followers. First that ginger tom, Littleflame, and now this one? Starclan, what was her secret? Or perhaps... The dark forest? Blue eyes darkened. The war... Mmm... Turtlefrost looked away, clearly thoughtful. Yes... she would be having a ... talk with Tornpelt.
Looking back to Steampaw, Turtlefrost's expression changed. Anger had turned to calculation, and she jerked her head back towards the center of the clearing. "And what exactly do you think Tornpelt would think of you leaving your lessons? Or your father? You have a lot to learn about how clan life works." You're lucky that I'm even being patient after that little stunt. For now.
519 words | Turtlefrost | Late Morning |
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Post by Kibbles on Oct 30, 2015 3:49:28 GMT
Steampaw looked at the she-cat, eyes flaring just as much as hers were. He stared at her, not backing down. He had been so scared of other cats ever since he had killed Patchpaw. And now, here he was, standing up to this she-cat, not backing down. Her words just made him even more angry, and a bit hurt as his father was brought into it.
"I know why he assigned me to you. He doesn't trust Tornpelt. He trusts you with my training. But I don't. I have no reason to trust you. What I've seen is a warrior who acts like a kit. All you've done is call a fellow warrior, a fellow clan mate names. And now you're throwing a temper tantrum because I refuse to train with you. How did you even get your name?"
He walked pass her, cringing when their fur accidentally brushed. His tail lashed back and forth as he continued towards the camp. But then, he stopped.
"Also, don't ever talk about my father. What are you going to do? Tell on me? How mature."
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Oct 30, 2015 4:20:29 GMT
I may have the face of an angel
But I sure as hell don't act like one
Alright, that did it. Turtlefrost had hoped to be cordial. She'd hoped to have a nice training session with her new apprentice. Teach him things. Form a bond. Get along. Her very first apprentice, and he was an absolute. Sensitive. Brat. A rogue kit with no respect. Teeth flaring, Turtlefrost would not stand here and allow herself to be insulted like this. Apprentice or no. How dare he? How dare he? She was a warrior- a warrior of Thornclan! She'd earned her name long and hard under Hailstar's rule, training under Rookclaw tooth and nail. She'd survived the great journey. She'd battled her way through the city, struggled through the mountains, and lived through winters harsher than this kit had ever dreamed. She'd survived the war. And he. Was calling her. Childish?
Turtlefrost laughed. She actually laughed. It was ridiculous. It was insulting. It was infuriating.. Her mother's voice echoed in her mind from time to time. Watch your temper. But how could she? She wouldn't be treated like this. Oh no. Not Turtlefrost. Not one of the last warriors of the clans.
She lost it.
The she-cat lept, shoving the heavy tom to the ground in an instant. She may have been lean, but she was strong. Having a leader for an uncle would do that. Having a survivor for a mother would do that. Being the only kit out of your litter to survive- living through a deadly illness- fighting through all manner of terrain and enemy throughout your youth in a never-ending war- would do that. She shoved the tom into the mud, paws digging deep into his shoulders. Claws unsheathed only enough to prick, she pinned him. Pearly fangs bared inches from his face. "Who would trust that she-cat? Who would trust half the savages in this place? Codeless rogues and loners- cats who know nothing about this life. Nothing about what it takes to be a warrior. Nothing about what us true warriors have lived through." She snarled. How dare he disrespect them like that? In saying such a thing- insulting her name- the thing nearest and dearest to any true warrior- he was insulting everything she stood for. Insulting Hailstar. Insulting Foxflower. Insulting Rookclaw. Insulting Thornclan. And insulting her.
"Do you think they wouldn't notice when you returned early? You know nothing of me. Nothing of my intent, nothing of my goals. Nothing of what I've lived through." she spat, blue eyes dark and hard. "I offer you something, and you spit on it. I want to train you. I want to help you. And you turn me down?!"
454 words | Turtlefrost | Late Morning |
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Post by Kibbles on Nov 3, 2015 2:09:33 GMT
Steampaw's fur bristled even more as he fell to the ground. He stared up at her, eyes wide. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected her to be able to do that. Where had that strength come from? She was a lean cat, not sturdy and bulky. But perhaps this strength came from adrenaline.
Then she spoke again.
"I trust her! And I'm one of those savages! I am not a clan born cat! I may not be clanborn and neither may Tornpelt, but at least we don't talk about each other behind the other's backs. At least we have that much respect for one another. You have none for anybody. Maybe some for Duskblaze. Maybe. Why are you even here? To terrorize us?"
His tail lashed back and forth as he used his back paws to pummel at her belly. "I do turn you down! I don't want your training! I want Tornpelt's training! She may not see me as a friend! But she is my friend! I'd risk my life for her! But at this rate I'd watch a fox attack you and watch as the light left from your eyes. I'd watch as it tore at your pelt off of your body and listen as you screamed for help. And I wouldn't help."
His purple eyes stared into her blue ones. He bared his teeth angrily.
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Nov 3, 2015 4:04:37 GMT
Here is the riddle of love: Everything it gives to you, it takes away.
Blood roared in Turtlefrost's ears. She could feel it coursing through her veins. Pumping, flowing. She could smell it. Hot and iron, sharp and deep in her nose. Behind her eyes. In her limbs and passing through her heart. Turtlefrost became acutely aware of her body, now. Of its every process. Her lungs shrinking and expanding, passing oxygen into her blood. The gentle shift of her claws against their sheath. Each and every hair on her pelt rising. The moistness of her mouth- the sensation of her lips pulling back from her teeth in a snarl. The sun, suddenly so hot on her back. Everything. Everything was so much. She could hear the birds singing. The water bubbling. The mud sloshing as she pressed Steampaw further and further into the wet earth. The heady scent of peat, and the particles of dust just visible in the late morning light.
Turtlefrost couldn't remember ever feeling this alive.
Blue eyes darkened, but her vision lightened. She could see so much. She could see so well. She almost felt... Taken out of her own body. Taken out of the situation. Saliva dripped from her long fangs and down onto her apprentice's face. She barely even felt the kicks at her stomach. They didn't move her an inch. Like she was made of stone. Like she was made of something beyond flesh- beyond life. Her mind whirred and slowed, like she was a thousand places at once. Lives flashing in her eyes. Possible outcomes for this situation. Possible outcomes for any situation. And they vanished as quickly as they appeared, like snow dissipating in water. But it wasn't a light fall. It was a blizzard. And Turtlefrost was lost.
Life flooded her. Red and black made the white of her vision swim. She could see Steampaw below her- but was it Steampaw? The long gray fur, that ugly patch of white on his chest.. A body far too fat for all that muscle. Eyes gray- no... green... The color of vomit and algae. It made her sick. Deep down, in a part of her that she'd never even known. Perhaps a part of her that she had always concealed. Or perhaps, a part of her that had been passed on from her mother. Maybe it had never been hers to hold. A burden, passed on without her knowledge. A gift she'd never asked for, and a gift she'd never wanted. But all she could see below her was him. And all the rage she'd ever felt burst forth.
"You would, wouldn't you? Or maybe you'd like to do it yourself." she snarled, shoving him into the marsh. One paw heavy on his chest, the other smacking him across the face. She could feel the impact. Feel the scrape of claw against bone. The sick squelch as he reeled into the earth, mud and filthwater seeping into his mouth. "After all, isn't that what you do? Don't you just hurt and hurt and hurt? It's what you did to her after all." She could feel her mother's fur at her face, too ribbed with scars to ever be soft. She hadn't deserved it. She'd been a good cat. A loving cat. She hadn't deserved it. Savages took what they want though. Filthy creatures. They hurt cats and they didn't care. They killed cats and they didn't care. They broke the code and they didn't care.
He deserved this.
She couldn't even register his words. The blood was too loud in his ears. Her mother's scent blurred her mind. She could feel her, sobbing on the edge of her nest. Pushing her away when she asked what was wrong. Turtlekit wanted to help- she tried to help. She wanted her Mama to feel better. But because of him, she would never be good enough. Because of the sickness she would never be good enough. She was a half-clanner. Her brothers were dead. Her mother hated her. Her father was a monster. She tried so hard to fix everything- to make herself strong- to make herself independent. She would be someone that didn't have to rely on anyone. All that got her was hurt. But she would be someone that her clan could rely on. That her family could rely on.
Her family was gone.
But that monster was here.
And there was nobody to stop her anymore.
A snarl tore through her throat, and she felt her claws unsheath as she shoved her paws into his shoulders. It all happened in the blink of an eye- or perhaps over seasons. Time didn't feel right. She was alive, but it was all strange. But Crowstar was here. Her claws dug deep into his flesh, and mud began to pool around him. It soaked into his fur, covered his chest. She could feel her hind legs begin to sink. Her eyes were black and frenzied. This was not Turtlefrost. Or maybe, this was what Turtlefrost truly was.
"Because you're a monster." 848 words | Turtlefrost | Morning |
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Post by Kibbles on Nov 3, 2015 4:57:34 GMT
Steampaw was facing her one moment and then he was choking on the mud and swamp water the next. He sputtered and coughed as the stinging sensation filled his face. He could scream or yell. He couldn't speak. He breathed in the water and choked. He breathed in the mud and suffocated. He was going to die. Right here. Under his mentor whom was no better than his father, if this proved anything.
Then the claws were digging into his shoulders. He turned so that his face was looking up at her now. Mud covered half of it and the other half was pouring blood. He stared up at her, eyes wide and ears pinned to his head. His mouth was hanging open as he stared up at her now, fear clear in his eyes. He was sinking. She was going to drown him. She was going to kill him. The mud and water was already appearing over him.
A rush of energy coursing through him. Just like when he had attacked the Cedarclan apprentice. He felt as if he could do anything. He pushed up, gaining just enough space to be able to breathe again. And then, she was off of him and he shot out of the mud as quickly as he could.
He bolted straight for the camp, running as fast as he could, struggling to breathe in the air. He was soaked, muddy, and blood dripped from his wounds. He couldn't believe that had happened.
He could feel hot breath on his hind legs and soon his father was running next to him. And it honestly shocked Steampaw, but his father didn't look at him. Nor did his father looked worried or asked him if he was alright. In fact, Stagheart looked angry. Steampaw prayed to Starclan that Stagheart was angry at Turtlefrost and not him.
And soon, both toms shot through the entrance of the camp and stopped in the middle.
Steampaw was dripping with water and blood and he was breathing heavily. Within a moment, he was throwing up the muddy swamp water he had swallowed. And then, everything started blurring. He felt himself tipping over, but didn't feel the ground as he landed on his side. Then, darkness.
And as darkness filled his eyes, two words filled his dream-like state. Hurt. Monster. Hurt. Monster.
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