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Post by night on Mar 30, 2007 20:48:49 GMT -5
A white cat padded slowly towards a glimmering surface, all the light of the stars reflected in her blood red eyes. Ashfeather is a different kind of cat. Her fur was a piercing white in the moonlight, but her eyes were as dark as two coals found from a long dead fire. A scene from earlier that night replayed over and over in Ashfeather's head. The death, or murder if you will, of her leader. Her claws still tasted faintly of blood, but that was from when she heroicly dragged him back after being killed nine times by the fiercest fox. Not from when she cut his throat and crushed his ribs. Never from that.
Ashfeather looked casually at the glimmering pool of water as she waited for Crowvoice to join her. The black tom shouldnt be far behind, this was an important night -- the begining of her leadership of RiverClan. Nothing is more important. She waited, eyes piercing the surface of the Moon Pool. She could almost taste the starshine and the nine lives that lurked under the surface, waiting for her to take them. No doubt, no shame, no fear hid itself in Ashfeather's spirit. Only greed and pride flowed through her.
The white she-cat stared into the pool for the first time, and her reflection came to her as a shock. In this pool, her fur was black, and her eyes even more red, a thick red. The red that resembled much blood. The blood of many, the blood of hundreds to come. And her fur was the color of the ash that clung to everything after a fire. This did not scare her, because Ashfeather knew. This was her soul. And her eyes stayed glued to the figure beneeth the surface.
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Post by logan on Mar 30, 2007 21:01:38 GMT -5
“Funny sort of place, the moon pool,” Crowvoice said quietly as he drew up beside Ghost. He stood beside her, an exact opposite: shorter, lower to the ground, with short dense black fur and eyes no where near as red and dark as hers. He keep his distance from her white bulk, watching her carefully. The blood on her claws, he was fully aware, wasn’t only from dragging the dead leader’s body back to camp, but he didn’t care: she was what the clan needed right now. A cat with all the power and will to take on the entire forest if need be. It was what he needed: a leader he could respect and look up to.
Although he tried to avoid glaring down into the pool, Crow’s eyes kept flickering to the dark, glittering waters. His reflection was broken and disjointed by the moonlight, but he could tell it wasn’t exactly his: his face in the shadowy waters was pointed and not feline at all – his head was that of a crow or a raven, dangerous black beak breaking through his face. He looked away from the water, dismissing the image. He was Crowvoice of Riverclan, and he was no carrion crow.
“Starclan has an overblown sense of drama,” he meowed slowly and quietly. “Let’s see if it’s justified.”
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Post by night on Mar 30, 2007 21:18:47 GMT -5
Ghost nodded. "Dramatic indeed." She said, breaking her eyes away from the reflection, and consentrating them at Crowvoice for a moment. The moon was directly over-head now, it was time for lives to be recieved. "Time for lives to be given as well as a new name." Ghost said as she looked back at the shimmering darkness of the moon pool, seeing the black cat staring back at her again. Ashfeather lowered her face so she was eye to eye with her soul. It was like stareing death itself in the eyes. But it was her, so Ash felt nothing.
She greedliy lapped water from the pool, starshine strong in her senses as everything turned silver. But a different Silver. A black silver, unlike any she expected to see. It was the darker part of StarClan, and every thing was washed in it. Crowvoice looked the same though. He was still there. Ghost listened, the wind had picked up, chilling her to the bone, even through her thick fur. There was a whistling, or a humming of some sort, but all the same it was dead silent. So this is what StarClan promised. Then the spirits came. One by one, each in shimmering pelts scented of moondust and starshine. This was them.
The cats moved as one, but again were individual cats. There were some she recognized, and some she did not. But they all hissed one word at her. --Murderer-- The icy sound dug itself into Ghost's ears. It was a sound to perfict, to angery, to menicing for a mortal cat to hear. It came again. --Murderer-- Now there was more. Her ears were drumming with pain, as the ghostly spirits continued. --You dare to test StarClan?-- Whispers surrounded her, all saying different things. The pain was to great. --Killer, Savage, Beast, Monster. Terrorist. Cold-hearted. Death Bringing. Murderer.-- Ghost's face was twisted with pain at the voices, not jsut at the voices though, but at the mere presense of StarClan, pain errupted within her.
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Post by logan on Mar 30, 2007 21:43:59 GMT -5
Silver descended around Crow and he grew tense, feeling a multitude of presences that were in fact just one pressing in on his consciousness. Blood pounded in his ears and he spread his paws, claws emerging and his fur standing on end. Something that might have been feared crossed his heart and he snarled at the oncoming masses and the thick silvery mist that hung around him. He had no idea what was supposed to happen, but he was sure he should no be seeing or hearing anything but Ghost. He drew his lips back from his teeth and snarled, the silver mist clinging to his sides and the voices whispering in his ears, trying to gain entrance to his tightly-closed mind.
He could see Ghost, but what he could see of her made him more and more worried: she appeared to be in pain, and the silvery mist darkened as it came into contact with her fur. She was fighting some force he could only hear, a multitude of one. He swore violently and lashed his tail, confused and worried and feeling angry welling violent inside him. Something that sounded like a crow croaked nearby.
“Get out of my head, Starclan,” Crow hissed, spitting. The mist pressed in, the voices became clearer. . Silver roses blossomed in Crow’s vision and he swayed, fur flattening and the hiss dropping from his voice. Some of the whispers he recognized and some he didn’t want to: the smell of moonshine and new rain filled the dark cat’s nostrils and quite suddenly, all the voices turned into a single voice that spoke with the authority of a god
Hello, Crowstar..
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Post by night on Mar 31, 2007 18:01:32 GMT -5
The pain was not subsiding within Ghost, it only grew. Her face was locked in a feirce snarl. The whispers were growing, and Ashfeather began to make more and more out. --With Cold Heart, The Warrior Shall Kill Not. Have you forgotten our code Ashfeather? Did bloodlust hide it from you?-- The albino warrior managed a hiss in defence, her blood red eyes were filled with pain at the voices. --You never were the warm hearted kind. I could tell from birth.-- A spirt seperated itself from the swirling mist. It was in the shape of a cat, fur glittering with starshine. Of course, it had to be her mother.
The pain weakened, but just enough for her to speak. "I'm what RiverClan needs. It doesnt matter if I am kind or honorable. I am strong. RiverClan doesnt need another weak-hearted cat to bring us to our deaths again!" Ghost hissed, stareing into the eyes of a cat who should have been dead long, long ago. More faces started to cloud her vision. The cats she had killed, a deputy, a leader, a friend. And some she didnt kill, and some she didnt recognize.
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Post by logan on Apr 18, 2007 17:55:30 GMT -5
Crow… Voice!
The black deputy spun, growling. Like all cats he knew perfectly well Starclan could kill him or have him killed, but this had to be some sick, bizarre joke. What in holy hellclan’s name were they talking about? Crowstar? He was Crowvoice, deputy of riverclan, and he would fight for his leader’s right to her nine lives if it meant he’d have to kill people or, worse yet, denounce starclan. His black fur stood on end as he hissed, claws out, eyes bright and sharp. Out of the silver mist, a white cat walked. Crow stared at the oncoming apparition.
Hello, Crowstar.
No! No! Crowvoice leapt at the white cat, leapt at his father and tried to kill him dead again – but the cat sunk into the mist and reappeared out of Crowvoice’s reach.
With this life I give you humility, because you need it.
d**n starclan!
“d**n you! You’re doing this wrong!” Crow yowled. He’d strained through the mist to stand beside Ghost and he now pressed his side into hers, trying to support her. He ignored the voices rumbling in his head, trying to talk to Ghost, keep her awake, keep her with him. Maybe starclan would realize the mistake they were making.
With this life I give you mercy, which you never had, some said. Crowvoice licked Ghost’s ear and talked to her, asking her what was going on, telling her to get up – they had to get out of the cave. With this life I give you forgiveness, because you lack it. With this life I give you courage to do what is right, because you only ever had courage to do what was wrong. With this life I give you trust, because not everybody’s out to kill you although they aught to be.
The voices continued, but the Carrion Crow had shut them out of his mind.
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Post by night on Apr 18, 2007 20:05:12 GMT -5
Ashfeather's ears were folded back, her face distorted in pain. Blood red eyes were shut to the world, and she was only aware of the voices hissing at her through the silvery mist. Lier, Murderer, Killer, Defaced, Outcast, Loner, Bloodthisty, Evil... They continued in that manner, hissing all that Ashfeather was and all she will be. The bare truth of all this was burning into Ashstar's mind, as if starclan itself willed it to be imprinted within her and never be lost through moons of torture.
She couldnt feel Crowvoice next to her. She had forgotten that the deputy had accompanied her on the trip to her doom. Ashfeather began to hate herself. She was cowered on the ground like a defenseless kit. She wished that the torture would kill her, but a voice as pure as early morning rain was dragging her away from the pain just the sight of starclan brought upon her.
The voice was clear, and ringing like a bell. His pelt though normally black shone a bright white in Ashfeather's eyes. And in a second she had known what happened, but her mind could not process the thought. She felt warmth on her ear, and another cat next to her. She seemed to draw in Crowvoice's strength as she struggled to rise to her feet.
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Post by logan on Apr 18, 2007 21:27:50 GMT -5
Crow grunted, taking Ashstar’s weight against his side. His small, lithe black body strained, silver mist rolling over him and the white cat he supported as they skirted the moonpool and began towards the exit. Voices pounded in Crow’s head, beating around the inside of his skull and bouncing off his brain. He growled, hissing at starclan gathered around him. They stood thick and tall, legions of cats ghostly as sin standing ranked to either side of him, chanting his name or telling him what life they were giving him, over and over. Mercy, pity, peace, hummed the voices, and the carrion crow continued on through them. He was terrified: this wasn’t at all what he wanted or expected. But he was who he was and he was used to running into things he didn’t like or expect, so he steeled himself and plowed through.
Courage to do what’s right. Crow snarled, paws slipping.
“Come on, Ghost,” he growled, ears flat against his skull and eyes huge and wide. “Come on!”
Trust. Misery’s sweet release is in trust, mercy and peace.
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