Life with RisingClan

[Kestrel]

You'll never ^take _me alive

The moonlight painted a white impression across the camp. The paint was thin and fragile, and at the bitter cold touch of a shadow, it fled.

The shadow, swift and fleeting, belonged to a she-cat with white and gray fur and mismatched eyes. She dashed into camp with a young kit clenched in her jaws, a grave look lingering in her eyes.

The silence spun out like gossamer cobwebs, draped across the camp, unravelled the night sounds into mystery.
Everything seemed surreal at such an hour of night, what some called 'The Witching Hour.'

Kestrel's fur glared silver in the pale moonlight.

Her eyes glowed fiercely like embers in the dark as she sought the nursery. She meant to wake Burningnight, but first she thought she would speak to the kit.

She set him down; that young tom she called Life.

Bending down, RisingClan's slim, swift falcon of a leader met the kit's gaze and murmured, her voice soothing as waves at the sea, "Life? It's ok. Everything will be alright."

^I'm alive

[/s][/u][/color][/font][/center][/size]

[Shadow Spirit]

Give my heart...give my soul...is my destiny really in my control?

A blur of movement, a swish of a tail. The world knew no other creature like this. A creature of shadows and sorrow, but one that was only seeking solace. His coat was a smudge of silver and black on the snow painted landscape. His eyes as clouded and deep as the swollen sky.

Snow melted beneath his ashen paws, leaving tracks as large as a dog's. The massive tom padded calmly, this was his home.

"Kestrel...what have you there?" came the tom's voice. Chasm walked up to stand beside his leader, curiosity swirling in his gray eyes.

[Hannibal]

“The kit alright, my dear?”

It wasn’t difficult at all to follow the Risingclan leader’s flight into this territory. Hannibal barely gave the other tom a second glance as he slid into the camp – that rather cool, rather odd gaze on Kestrel and the little tom she’d rescued.

“I’d truly dislike to find that bastard had harmed him.”

Although he and the small tom had no relation, Hannibal liked kits. They were innocent, pure….as he had been before Heartfall had been murdered.

“By the way my dear Kestrel; my name happens to be Hannibal.”

Hannibal?

Ah, it would strike a cord; for that name had been heard of far and wide. Rogues fitfully passed on the crimes committed by the owner of the name; the atrocious murders.

They spoke of him, but not by just that title.

Hannibal the Cannibal.

Ah, but the cruel, intelligent tom hadn’t harmed any of them. And, if he had plans to do such a thing…wouldn’t he have already done so?

Murder and cannibalism, although always lingering close in that twisted mind, were not what he was after on this cold, bloody night.

[burningflower]

"Kestrel?"

A rustling in the nursery had awoken the beautiful torbie she-cat. Her kits huddle close to her, snow falling onto their noses occasionally and causing them to sneeze a tiny little kit sneeze. Both were the gray of the storm cloud, but one - the little she-kit - had a slightly darker pelt than her brother. The tomkit was slightly larger, also, and he took up more room of the warm radiation given off by their mother's belly.

"Who is this, Kestrel?"

Burningflower...Her name brought with it warmth and love. She was known to foster abandoned kits, even when her own 'litter' is growing almost too large to keep track of every kit.

The tomkit had begun to kick his sister in the face, as they had both woken up with Burningflower's movement.

"Graystorm!"

She scooped up the larger, lighter-coloured kitten with her forepaw and dragged him away from Darkwhisker. The fluffy little she-kit was huddled in the curve Burningflower's belly made. Graystorm tried to leap back to attack his poor sister, but his mother held him back. She looked at him as if to say, 'How would you like it if I jumped on you?'

ooc; Heyguyzz. Where's Soulless? Is she with Burningflower and the kits, or off being strange? X3

[gracia]

Gracia stepped into the nursery after Kestrel, her eyes wide with excitement and fascination. "¡Kestrel! ¿Qué es esto? ¿Un espacio de gatito-levantando?" the calico she-cat asked, a bit loudly. Poco hopped down from her head to the ground, hiding between her two forelegs. "Gracia asks if this is a...kitten-raising place? A nursing den, I suppose?" the small brown field mouse translated. He glanced around nervously; a mother with her two kits lay in one corner; two toms stood in different areas, but all were speaking to Kestrel.

But what was this? Kestrel was also holding a kitten. Poco, feeling his fear give way to curiosity, scuttled over to stand under the RisingClan leader's belly. A young tomkit was laying in front of them - Life, she had called him? Gracia noticed Poco had left, and suddenly feared for his life.

"¡Poco! ¡Regrese! ¡Los gatos le comerán! ¿Trata usted ponerse en peligro su vida?" she growled at him. Poco glanced back at her, seemingly confused, then around at the other cats. His fear flooded back into him, and his eyes widened as he prepared to cheese it back to his kitty. Gracia met him halfway and licked his head fiercely, as if he were her own kit who'd nearly fallen off of a cliff or been snatched up and away by a hawk.

[Crisp]

A sleek, black figure padded into the nursing den - why? Because that's where the action seemed to be happening. The tom neither had a mate nor kits, but many cats were gathered in the little den where life began. As he entered, he noticed Burningflower and her kits; Kestrel with another kit; Chasm, beside Kestrel; and two other cats he didn't recognize, though one seemed faintly familiar - the tom. The she-cat, however, had a mouse upon her head, and was speaking a strange tongue while the mouse - translated?! The black tom sat with a thud and smirked.

"Strange couple," he growled out of the shadows. Crisp longed to leap at the little rodent sitting atop the Spanish she-cat's head, but that would injure her, too, and Kestrel would be very upset if he unnecessarily hurt a new warrioress of RisingClan. Crisp did not know any Spanish at all; only the slightest bit of French, and all that was was 'bonjour'. So he sat and waited for a reply, be it from Kestrel, Burningflower, Hannibal, or Gracia.

[Lucky]

Ooc: I can post here right?

Bete came into the clearing. What was all the commotion about? Who was BoneClan? There was going to be a war? When? Could she be in it?

The siamese was very excited but her expression did not show it. The brown tip of her cream colored tail twitched in annoyance of all the talking, and sat down to the nearest cat to her (which happened to be Crisp). Mumbling to herself about how dumb she would sound, Bete spoke to him, "What's all the commotion? I've heard about this BoneClan, but who are they? Do you think Kestrel will let me be in the war I've heard about? I'm a little late aren't I?"

Bete quieted down as she looked away, mumbling about how she talked too much.

A mouse cat speaking mouse? A cute little kit? A spanish speaking cat? What was going on here!?

[Kestrel]

You'll never ^take _me alive

"Now is not the time, Bete," Kestrel mewed, before shifting her attention to the others.
"Chasm," she meowed in greeting, almost fondly; "Crisp, Gracia, Bete, Burningflower...this kit-" A flick of her tail to Life- "-Has no family. Listen and I shall tell you what has happened."

She set the kit down and began, "I was out on one of my border runs when I caught the scent of blood, strong. I followed the scent, and it lead me to a battle: a battle between a rogue queen and what can only be called a monster. He was pure white, bloodsplattered, and looking into his eyes..." She trailed off, her eyes distant for a moment. "He was hollow. A machine, a shell of a cat. There was no thought nor emotion in those eyes. He felt no pain. When the queen attacked him, he did not flinch, but instead pressed on. Before my eyes he killed her, and then her kits.
His dead eyes had settled on Life when I made my move; I leaped in and carried him away. But still the tom came; he wanted the kit's life. I had set down this kit and prepared to fight the tom to the death if that was what it took, but Hannibal came.
He fought off the white tom, and I was able to slip away and carry this kit to safety."
She nodded, and looked to Burningflower.

"This kit has no mother, Burningflower. If you would, I would be happy if you'd take this kit. If you have milk to spare." She pushed the little calico kitten toward her with a gentle white paw.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Kestrel glanced at Gracia and explained, "Yes, this is a nursery. The queen is Burningflower; her kits, Graystorm and Darkwhisker. When I stole the kit Soulless from a BoneClan nursery, it was Burningflower who cared for her. And now, if she has milk to spare, she shall care for this little Life, as well."

Finally, she turned to look directly at Hannibal. "Hannibal, I thank you for you assistance," she meowed earnestly, bowing her head in gratefulness.
Hannibal, your reputation proceeds you. I shall watch you carefully.

^I'm alive

[/s][/u][/color][/font][/center][/size]

[Crisp]

Crisp turned as Bete spoke to him. "No, no," he meowed, trying to comfort the she-cat. "You're not too...too late. Kestrel very well may let you join the battle against BoneClan, who are the most dreadful, murderous idiots you'll ever encounter." He turned back to Kestrel and Life, smiling, and padded over. Examining the kitten, the black tom looked up at his leader, the leader of RisingClan: Kestrel.

"He'll do quite well as a warrior," Crisp meowed, smiling. He had a knack for guessing what kits' strengths would be when they were older. His amber eyes poured into her mismatched depths. "Who'll be his mentor? And, for that matter, who'll be any of the other kits' mentors?" He leaned in comically and stared into her eyes. "You don't have to answer, dearie."

ooc; I saw on the hierarchy that Crisp would be Darkwhisker's mentor...I think that'd be kind of hard, seeing as I play both and I'd feel awkward during training sessions unless there were other cats there, also... ^^;

[burningflower]

Burningflower's eyes shone with excitement. Another kit for her foster family? Oh, wonderful! The torbie queen snorted at Graystorm and Darkwhisker, almost as if she was saying 'stay put, or else!' She padded up to the RisingClan leader to stand beside her.

"Of course! I've got plenty of milk; Graystorm likes to steal scraps of my leftovers, and Darkwhisker's so small that she doesn't eat much!" She turned back to Life, smiling warmly. "He's very handsome; if they weren't going to be siblings, I'd think Darkwhisker would become interested in him when they were a bit older," the beautiful queen mused to Kestrel. "But such a dreadful past." She glanced at Kestrel before scooping the young tomkit up and padding over to her nest, plopping in between Darkwhisker and Graystorm - who, coincedentally, had just been about to pounce on his quieter, less active sister.


Graystorm whined at his mother - that new kitten - Life, was it? - had almost been plopped right on his cute little dark gray nose! Had he had eyebrows, he would have furrowed them, but instead he just twitched the whiskers above his eyes, where his eyebrows would be.

Darkwhisker smiled meekly at Life, her newest brother. Where was Soulless? She was another she-kit that the weak, shy kitten could talk to. But she said nothing; she was afraid that she'd be a bother to her mother, or that speaking could provoke Graystorm.

[Hannibal]

“My dear, there is not a need for your thanks. I am not heartless enough to allow the kit to perish, and such a lady possibly go with him.”

Hannibal was a charming cat – a good lure when you were on the hunt for feline flesh. Ah, his mind flicked, slightly, musing ever so briefly on how Kestrel’s flesh would taste…

Properly prepared, of course.

Ah, but no, he didn’t seek such a bloody pastime. Not right that moment.

Yellow gaze met Kestrel’s with one of his half-smiles, but the message held silently in that gaze would be clear.

I know my dear. But if I meant to cause harm here; would I not have done it while you fought the monster?

[Kestrel]

I didn't know who would be mentoring who ^^; I'll switch it around. Bluerage will mentor Darkwhisker; Crisp gets Graystorm.

You'll never ^take _me alive

Kestrel nodded, pleased. "You are very generous, Burningflower," she meowed.

Glancing at Crisp, one of her faint, amused half-smiles on her face, she said, "I think Chasm will mentor Life. I trust him. As for you, Crisp, I believe you can mentor Graystorm."

Her brilliant eyes flicked briefly to Hannibal, and there was a pointed wariness there. I watch.

^I'm alive

[/s][/u][/color][/font][/center][/size]

[Soulless]

Soulless flitted in. Although she was still small, she moved with both a lithe grace and a sharp quickness.

Maybe this would be the cat to one day become Kestrel’s equal in speed.

Maybe.

But there was many moons to pass before the Boneclan born Risingclan serving kit could achieve such speed.

Much much growing to do.

The gray and white kit bounded over to Graystorm, proceeding to attempt to tackle him and then gnaw on his ear.

Something else she shared with Heartless. Her mother liked ears.

The she skittered away, a light and sure-footed dance, padding over to Kestrel with a purr.

Were they discussing training? Soulless wondered to herself who'd she be apprenticed to.

[burningflower]

Graystorm was under attack! Soulless landed on top of him, gnawing at his ear. He cuffed at her ear, tiny claws sheathed, and the two scuffled across the dusty ground. When his sister jumped off, he smirked and turned to Life. But he wasn't looking at Life; he was looking at Darkwhisker.

Burningflower watched her adoptive daughter scamper in, tackle Graystorm, then scuffle off to see Kestrel. The torbie she-cat knew that it was time the kits get to sleep; tomorrow might be a big day; though the four kits weren't apprentice-age, they'd be quite active tomorrow - Burningflower was sure of that.

"Soulless," the queen cooed to the happy young kit. "Soulless, time for sleep. That goes for the rest of you - Graystorm..." Graystorm had been overdramatically waggling his haunches, preparing to leap over Life and land on top of Darkwhisker. Burningflower fixed him with a stern look, then cast her warmer gaze back to Soulless.

ooc; 'and the two scuffled across the dusty ground.' Is this powerplaying? If it is ISSOSORRY.

[Deadnight]

[Pfft. I don't mind silly. ^^]

“Hot cha cha cha~”

That could only be one cat…

The insane brown and black tom laughed, as he bounded into the gathering of Risingclan cats [save Hannibal]. Still acting like a silly little kit who had devoured too much catnip, he bounced and bounded around them all. But then the tom stopped, eyes narrowed as he inspected the kits that Burningflower mothered.

“D’aww, wikkle kitties need to eat some cucumbers to grow all tough and powerful. I have the POWAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And then he was off once again, bouncing away from them all.

[Lucky]

Bete shook her head. Another kit... Kestrel the Kit Krusader! Yes, that was a good name for her Leader...

Though she not dared say it outloud, the siamese chuckled to herself as the nick-name entered her mind...

Mumbling to herself to stop laughing, Bete turned to Crisp and spoke, "Congrats Crisp, you'll make a great mentor!" The she-cat's tail swished in delight.

She hoped that she could be a mentor someday, and as good a mentor as she was sure Crisp was going to be.

[Bluerage]

<sub>Bluerage siddled up as the other cats conjured around, sitting down lightly and with simple ease as the assasin gazed keenly about her. What appeared to be going on??

.. A kit.. Another one. She smiled in spite of herself. She'd loved kits all her life, even as a an assasin, but she had not a mate to bear them with, and she had enough dignity to select a random rogue of her choice. No..

She'd taken to Soulless, easily, but Life she became observant of, wondering where it had come from. As Kestrel explained, she sighed and closed her eyes.

What a world this was turning out to be...

She looked up, tail flicking with ease. She remained silent, merely in the background, as she always was.

That was how she lived her life.</sub>

((Bluerage'd be happy to mentor one of the kits! She needs to be more active in the clan anyways))

[Shadow Spirit]

So many new faces...a whole new world for me...but I am lucky...I can share my burden...

Chasm noticed the tense look in Kestrel's eyes as she addressed the others, most pointedly at Hannibal. Wanting to ease her distress, he sidled up closer and pressed his shoulder to hers. The others might think his gesture too forward, but only his leader's opinion mattered. He hoped she could take solace in his closeness as he did with hers.

When she announced that he was to mentor this unfortunate kit, his heart swelled. So soon after he had met her, she trusted him to be the caretaker of another life and he was shocked.

"I am honored my leader..." he said, feeling breathless. "I will teach the kit all I can and raise him to be a strong warrior, one that will defend others from the suffering his family faced..." Standing a little straighter, gratitude swirling in his gray eyes, Chasm faced his clanmates by his leader's side.

[Crisp]

"Thank you, Bete," Crisp purred. Bluerage sat down, and he purred louder. Crisp had taken a liking to the blue-gray tabby she-cat, and wanted to be her friend. Glancing at Deadnight, who'd just had a strange outburst, saying something about cucumbers? - as he passed, he got up and padded over to Bluerage. She looked lonely. He sat a good seven mouselengths from her, so she wouldn't think he was being too forward about anything.

"Hello, Bluerage," he meowed happily. The moon, losing its fullness as the month wore on, shone brightly overhead, no clouds obscuring its beauty. His tail swayed lazily as his amber hues were lost in the moon's beautiful silver shine.

He glanced back at Burningflower, and her blood-daughter, Darkwhisker. His apprentice - well, when she was old enough. How old were these kits, anyway? His head turned back to the silver-blue she-cat he sat beside, Bluerage, and asked her if she knew.

Then Crisp looked back at Bete. She was a very good friend to the black tom, also. He looked back and forth at the two she-cats. Surely he could be friends with both of them! He knew she-cats tended to get territorial about toms they 'liked'...and Crisp wasn't totally unfortunate-looking. In fact, he thought he was downright good-looking, but that was for she-cats to decide.

[Kestrel]

You'll never ^take _me alive

Kestrel stayed where she was, shoulder to shoulder with Chasm. "I believe you will," she meowed to him, one of her faint half-smiles on her pretty face.

Her mismatched eyes flitted across each face present: Burningflower, such a caring cat; Gracia, who was catching on to RisingClan customs so quickly; Crisp, the reliable; Bete, who was new but good-tempered enough; Graystorm, Darkwhisker...Life, new life for the Clan; Soulless, who had bourne up so well; Bluerage, who was so very good to her Clan; and back to Chasm, who was a good cat despite the darkness in his life. This was her Clan, the one she had built through her words and her own paws, what had once been called 'The Kestrel Project'

All these faces. This was why she had strived to create her Clan; because she felt that all cats should have the opportunity to feel the closeness of Clan life.
To belong, aye?

She stood silently, shoulder to shoulder with Chasm, and she was happy.

^I'm alive

[/s][/u][/color][/font][/center][/size]