Heathclaw
Administrator
Rustlestar %7C 9 lives[M:400]
Am I crazy? Is that my problem?
Posts: 169
|
Post by Heathclaw on Oct 4, 2009 14:30:58 GMT -5
Rustlestar dashed like a breeze through the forest of ThunderClan, following his internal compass east, where he knew the ShadowClan territory would begin. It had been difficult to navigate through the trees at first; the roots stumbled under his paws, and the quick lopes of a WindClan cat would very often send him crashing into the close knit trunks. However, he'd adapted quickly to the new territory, and by throwing a spring in his step and a weave to his run, he was able to make his way through the trees with relative ease.
That wasn't to say that he was comfortable of course. Being cooped under a canopy of leaves that choked out the sky was an unnatural feeling for Rustlepelt, and his displeasure with his environment showed in the prickling of his neck fur. In time he arrived at the very distinct ShadowClan border, and paused for a brief moment to adjust himself.
The sound of labored breathing came from either side of him, and he was suddenly reminded of his two ThunderClan escorts, presumably assigned to trail him and keep him from trying anything funny on ThunderClan territory. Really, Fernstar hadn't needed to bother.
"You know, it's not my custom to compliment cats for another clan, but I have to say that I'm impressed. It's a difficult thing to keep up with a WindClan cat. You two should be proud of yourselves. I'll hope to see you in the next moon."
With a quick nod, Rustlestar crossed over into the ShadowClan border, where the trees grew even closer, doing an even better job at blocking out what little light came from the cloud ridden sky, and left his two shadows behind.
The ShadowClan territory differed from that of ThunderClan in another way: the smell. In WindClan, the air was fresh and clean, unmarred by any foreign scents. ThunderClan smelled strongly of wood and trees, but ShadowClan was worse still, their scent had a sour tinge to it.
"Well, well... a bit far from home, aren't we?"
Rustlestar whirled around, and came face to face with a white-and-black-spotted cat, a ShadowClanner, who was watching him with an amused look on his face. Rustlestar was a trifle unnerved by how well the cat had snuck up on him, but made a good job of hiding it.
"I have a message for Blackstar that concerns all the clans. Take me to him."
"How rude. We haven't even been introduced yet," said the tom, with a mock frown, although his whiskers twitched. "Oh well. It's not like I could stop you from marching in by my lonesome."
Rustlestar smirked at this; compared to him, his ShadowClan guide was positively scrawny. The light-colored cat had made a wise choice, and Rustlestar expected he'd reach the ShadowClan camp in short time.
He thought wrong.
The light-furred ShadowClanner must have led him through every tangle, briar patch, and marsh in the territory before they'd finally approached what looked like the ShadowClan camp, and by that time, the WindClan leader was spitting mad.
"Hey, here we are! Home sweet ShadowClan home," said the ShadowClanner, turning and giving Rustlestar a cheeky grin. "Something wrong?"
"Nothing," grunted Rustlestar with gritted teeth.
"Great! Stick close by now, some of those nettles tend to be prickly."
Fuming as he was at the white tom's patronizing tone, Rustlestar nonetheless followed close behind as they entered the camp, and poked his head through the tunnel just in time to hear the other tom call out to the entire clan.
"Hey, Smallstar! Miragesoul! It's Lightheart! I found myself a little lost WindClan intruder! Can I keep it?"
|
|
Fernear!
Administrator
Fernstar %7C 8 lives[M:0]
Posts: 1,112
|
Post by Fernear! on Oct 9, 2009 15:15:15 GMT -5
Frenzies of meows and hisses pounded into the warriors' den. The day was starting to get older and the sun was sitting on the horizon, although it was hard to tell for those below the storm clouds. With an aggravated grunt, Miragesoul picked herself up and heading into the centre of camp. As quickly as the other cats reacted, so did Miragesoul. A Windclanner he was and a pretty bold one at that, seeing as he walked straight into Lightheart on his way through their territory. Fighting the urge to curl her lip and leap at the tom, Miragesoul passed off her anger with a few swift twitches of her tail and moved towards him. Why hadn’t Smallstar addressed him earlier?
Ignoring Lightheart’s comic inquire, the tortoiseshell walked into the group surrounding him, inching her way towards the intruder. Upon his arrival Miragesoul hadn’t, nor had any present clan cat besides his guild, heard the cat’s reasoning for his possible ignorance towards clan boundaries. “Why are you here?” As soon as the question aired, the group grew quiet, eagerly awaiting the next chapter of this encounter to play out.
It had been hardly a moon since Miragesoul was appointed as Smallstar’s deputy, a position that she lusted for so greatly in her days of youth. The clan had lacked in structure for moons after Blackstar disappeared and although ShadowClan was still hasty and sharp-tongued at times, they paid heed and respect to the figures of authority in camp. A cat who knew a great deal about the latter was Darksoul, the medicine cat who much alike his close friend, had been seen very little in the past four seasons.
The tom, whose name she could not find, looked very misplaced and awkward. His obvious WindClan lineage showed through and the fact that his nose twitched every time he took a deep inhale of the musty ShadowClan air made it more evident. Perhaps it was in these conditions that ShadowClan became the harsh and hardy band that they were infamous of being. Nonetheless, they stuck through the conditions and showed their colours in situations like these. At least a half a dozen pairs of glaring, fiery eyes were locked on the tom that had no sooner made his entrance than became encircled by hostile felines.
Overhead the storm seemed to have let up, and the torrent of rain that was dropped onto the clans slowed down to a measly drizzle: a rare luxury. The setting sun began to overcome the thick mantle of clouds, sending faint beams of light through the coniferous canopy. The peaceful transformation showed no signs of reforming into its old, hectic form, although the storm did not shy away from the sky any more than it had already. Some cats saw this as a sign from StarClan, others just passed it off as a gift from the sky.
“Well?”
[/blockquote]
|
|
Heathclaw
Administrator
Rustlestar %7C 9 lives[M:400]
Am I crazy? Is that my problem?
Posts: 169
|
Post by Heathclaw on Oct 13, 2009 20:54:56 GMT -5
"Why you impudent little..." Rustlestar snarled at the ShadowClan cat known as Lightheart. He was no one's possession, and he was sorely tempted to show this cheeky white tom just exactly why that was, but the ShadowClanner had wasted no time in mustering the whole of ShadowClan's warriors.
With a perky bounce, the black-spotted tom crossed over to stand next to a tortoiseshell she-cat, dropping a line in passing: "Never mind; he's got too much of a temper to keep around."
"Why are you here?" asked the tortoiseshell she-cat, staring at him with a cold glare, which was mirrored by every other cat in the open clearing.
Rustlestar was confused. Who was this cat? Where was Blackstar, if he was still leader of ShadowClan? So much had changed since the last time he'd seen this clan... it was time to fix that.
As the setting sun dropped down to the horizon and the rain slowed to a drizzle, Rustlestar began to speak.
"I had hoped to deliver this message to Blackstar in private… if he is still your leader. What I have to say concerns ShadowClan, as well as WindClan, and every other clan by the lake. We need to start having Gatherings again."
Rustlestar paused to take a breath, and continued, now with a glint in his eye. "Can ShadowClan honestly say that they are comfortable not knowing what all the other clans are up to? And how can we hope to keep our pride as warriors, if we are unable to live up to this tenet of the warrior code?"
"This is my message, given to me by the leader of WindClan, entrusted to you to give to your own leader," said Rustlestar, being intentionally vague. If they wanted to know who WindClan's leader was, they would have to go to the gathering. He would not give these cat the satisfaction of acknowledging WindClan's leader in such an unkempt appearance. Not today.
"ThunderClan has already promised to be there. Will ShadowClan follow suit?"
|
|
Fernear!
Administrator
Fernstar %7C 8 lives[M:0]
Posts: 1,112
|
Post by Fernear! on Oct 18, 2009 8:43:41 GMT -5
A cold, leaf-fall wind blew through the maze of pine trees and arrived in the group without an invitation. It had surpassed the rain which was now growing chillier with each coming sun; the wind was just making everything else colder on top of the storm. Greenleaf had officially taken its leave and handed the seasonal baton to Leaf-fall. In the woods of oak and maple, the floors were beginning to be blanketed by brilliant, damp leaves. In the local forest, pine needles that were coming to the end of their life created a coverlet for their former hosts.
Seeing the situation become increasingly under-control and, well, boring to some gatherers, cats began to disperse in pairs, alone or even three at a time. After the tom had replied to Miragesoul’s steadfast inquiry, most of the felines had left. In the end it came down to three cats: Miragesoul, Lightheart and the WindClanner. She wouldn’t explain why Blackstar wasn’t speaking with him although she desperately wanted to know herself. Rumours had been floating in camp, as petty things like past relationships can, and Miragesoul tried to tell herself that he hadn’t come to the meeting. She hadn’t seen him, but apparently a good number of cats did. Her mind could go on and on about life at camp and her new life as the deputy, but what the tom was saying right now was more important.
Once again, the tortoiseshell fought the urge to curl her lips and bark a hoarse response to the tom’s comments concerning ShadowClan and their livelihood as warriors, but quickly calmed her surging anger when she actually thought about what he said and the manner of which he said it.
“I will pass on this message tour leader,” she took in a deep breath before continuing, “and no, we would not be comforted by our secluded state in the forest, and have not been, no matter how shallow our relationships are with the other clans. You will see us at the gathering.” She spoke in an almost matter-of-factly style, without sounding too harsh. Looking to the black and white tom at her side she began to speak, “Since you found him you can show him the way out of our territory,” she paused before saying her farewell, “thank you, Rustlepelt. May StarClan light your path.” That was about as close as a good luck wish Miragesoul could muster for a cat from another clan, not to mention the fact that she had finally remembered the tom’s name, or what she thought was his name. Even though she was doing her part in getting the clans back to their old, communicative, Warrior code abiding (they still follow most rules, some have just been forgotten or have not been followed for moons) selves, her old-fashioned ShadowClan hostility would go on with her forever. So this is what tomorrow will hold for us…
[/blockquote]
|
|
Heathclaw
Administrator
Rustlestar %7C 9 lives[M:400]
Am I crazy? Is that my problem?
Posts: 169
|
Post by Heathclaw on Oct 18, 2009 11:34:44 GMT -5
The cold, leaf-fall wind that whistled across the ShadowClan camp barely penetrated Rustlestar's thick pelt, so unlike that of other WindClan cats. The black-spotted Lightheart, on the other hand, shivered involuntarily, unable to hide his discomfort. Rustlestar had to hide a smirk, it seemed there was a bit of justice in the world.
He stood quietly, not acknowledging the departing ShadowClan cats, his eyes saved only for the tortoiseshell she-cat. What was her name? She seemed quite familiar, and, after all, how many tortoiseshells could there be in ShadowClan? Well, it was of no importance at the moment- he could always find out at the gathering.
“I will pass on this message to our leader,” she began. Rustlestar nodded. Vague. Naturally. “And no, we would not be comforted by our secluded state in the forest, and have not been, no matter how shallow our relationships are with the other clans. You will see us at the gathering.”
"That is all that I ask, Miragesoul." said Rustlestar with a curt nod. Her name had clicked into his mind- Lightheart had named two cats as they entered, and this she-cat already admitted that she was no leader.
He dipped his head courteously as the she-cat acknowledged his name, or at least, his old name, and turned to leave, the light-colored cat trailing behind. He turned one last time, with one last vague statement. "Who knows? Maybe there's hope."
And with that, he headed out, Lightheart trailing after him. "No tricks this time, right?" Rustlestar asked, his claws extending with an audible *click*. "Aheheheh... tricks? What tricks? I was gonna tell you jokes instead. Aheh heh..."
(Rustlestar out!)
|
|