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Post by Chainrust on Dec 17, 2008 1:07:23 GMT -5
Luck was on his side that night. There were no windstorms to blow him off course or deafen him. He could think and concentrate in peace as he picked his way along the barren wastelands of Rogue Meadows. He paused as the ground flattened out briefly and the grass shortened to survey what lay ahead of him, behind him.
Behind him lay this life that he lived these past few months. Ahead of him was a life he had left, one he had as a young kit. Despite the fact he had barely surpassed the age of adult, he already knew much, had seen much. He turned away, almost regrettfully. What was he to expect from his old clan? It wouldn't be much longer until reached Stealthclan. Almost afraid of what he would find, he marched onward. Chainrust feared few things. His past was not one of them. But he knew he was only lying to himself.
Hey! Come look at this! This one's alive! What should we do? C'mon, let's help him. Chainrust closed his eyes, letting his other senses take over. Easy buddy, easy, you got a knock 'round your head. Just relax, you'll be okay. That was three months ago. He had beat the odds. He had survived something that should have killed him. Chainrust opened his eyes and stared regrettfully at the ground. Was it worth staying alive? He would have to see. It was just yesterday he was fully mobile. He said his good byes and started out for Stealthclan.
He froze as he approached the brambles outside the clan, he stopped. How was he to slip back into his old life? He glanced back regrettfully. Finally, he pushed through the brambles, growling only lightly as they scraped him. He had grown since he had last come through here. In fact, as he stepped into the moonlight of camp, his real differences showed up. He was taller, more gangly, his eyes were darker and more cynical and wise. He truly had grown up into the cat he had always portrayed himself as as a kitten. And the biggest difference was the thick scar across his forehead, curved near his left ear. The spot where his concussion had been, the one that had nearly ended his life. His sage-green eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he slipped into camp, and slipped back into the life he once had. He glanced around the silent and barren camp, his tail twitching in aggitation. Was anybody here anymore? [/sub][/center] Thanks for convincing me to bring 'im back, Umber. <3 |
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Post by Sunsetfire on Dec 18, 2008 15:35:04 GMT -5
There are those who think
That life has nothing left to chance.
A host of holy horrors
to direct our aimless dance.
A planet of playthings.
.x.
Ah, it was a great day to be alive! The normally harsh weather that overtook Stealthclan was tempered and serene – Leaf-bare did not affect this land as it did the others in the valley. Being at such an extreme, instead of struck by cold the temperature remained a steady warm; such a welcome change from the typical elevated heat.
It was here, in what most cats considered an inhospitable environment, where Sunsetfire had completely come into his own.
Indeed, the large tom had taken a bit of time to relax on such a day – lounging on the ledge jutting out from the cliff face where he typically gave his meetings. He had grown, in more ways then one, since those days of before – a tiny little kit with huge dreams. Now, pound for pound, he was fully the muscle mass and weight of Bane – his father – with a coat of pure untarnished gold that practically glowed with health and fitness; marred only by a small splash of white on his chest and tail tip.
With half-slitted fire-amber eyes, the calm leader watched over his clan’s activities benevolently, still going strong even after undertaking such a heavy toll in lives during the war. There was the she-cat Coyotesummer, wandering into the camp and heading straight to the freshkill pile, dropping two dead birds into it. Almost, for just a moment, Sunsetfire expected a grey and white tom to follow – Highway and the she-cat had become good friends. But a flick of sadness as he remembered…Highway and Firephoenix had been amongst those lost.
Suddenly, a loud shrieking warcry split the serene air, causing the leader to open one eyes fully. It wasn’t a threat, not one fur even raised even as Coyotesummer whirled and looked around in pure confusion, because he knew that warcry well.
A calico ball of legs and blotched fur tore from the nursery, where she chose to spend her nights alone instead of with her father in his den, leaping up and pouncing pointedly on a large leaf that had blown into camp from somewhere or another, promptly ‘killing’ it. While Coyotesummer settled down and went back to her tasks when she realized that it was only Lunakit, Sunsetfire smiled fondly at his daughter. She was growing to be quick on her paws and cunning as a fox, but there were some things that bothered the tom more and more as she grew. While he knew she would be a wonderful warrior someday, she had a strict disregard for rules and authority and respected no one. Now, perhaps that was a typical kit thing, he didn’t know nor felt it was a subject he asked anyone in his clan about, but it was coupled with an outright bold cruelty that was frightening in a kit her age.
Well, she was almost old enough, perhaps being apprenticed to one of his warriors would finally settle the wild kit down.
Once again his reverie was broken when his daughter came alive from chewing on her leaf with a loud yowl followed by a chain of hissing and spitting. Flicking his tail, Sunsetfire rose to his paws immediately as a stranger padded into camp – someone who had figured out the path through the tangled brambles, apparently. Coyotesummer was staring in open challenge at the rogue tom, padding in a stalk forward carefully, seeking to get in between the tom and the leader’s kit before driving the tom away.
Lunakit, on the other hand, just wasn’t getting the hint to move and get out of the war. She had poofed her calico self up into as big of a fluffball as she could, tail raised high in a show of confidence, practically growling as she moved a few steps forward towards the stranger as if she planned to be the one to drive him away.
It was time for Sunsetfire to intervene.
He didn’t move fast, nor did he even need to. The magnificent tom simply leaped from his post and padded in between the newcomer and his cats, before turning himself and facing the other tom. There was no need to hurry, as this cat hadn’t threatened harm on his clanmates by any means yet, and besides. Battles were won easier with words instead of bloodshed. “Stranger, while I commend you for your skill into slipping into my camp so easily, I believe that perhaps it is time for you to…” Those words died off abruptly as Sunsetfire stared at the tom before him, recognition and then shock burning through fire-amber eyes.
It couldn’t be…he was dead. Sunsetfire had seen him go down back there on the battlefield, killed by that Boneclanner.
He had saw him die.
But yet, here Chainrust was – alive and in the flesh right there before him.
Lunakit gave her father a funny look, as if trying to figure out why he was looking at the stranger like that. Deciding to take matters into her own paws as she so like to do, she grinned wickedly and moved to dart around the bulk of her father and attack the tom, but it only took one of Sunsetfire’s paws and minimum weight on it to bring her to earth and keep her down. “No, Lunakit. Look at this tom, for you should never attack him.” He let his bewildered daughter to rise where she, bored, charged off across camp.
He turned back to Chainrust, “I saw you die, and lived since then with the constant memory of how I was unable to get to your side and change that exact fate. Tell me how you, now, stand before me. And tell me for what reason that after all this time, you now finally chose to return.” Sunsetfire’s voice was quiet, reflective, as he stood there looking at one of his dearest friends; and his clan’s old deputy.
.x.
We dance on the
S t r i n g o f p o w e r s
We cannot perceive.
“The stars aren’t aligned
Or the Gods are malign.”
blame
is better to give
than receive.
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Post by Onyxdart on Dec 19, 2008 1:00:40 GMT -5
Following near Coyotesummer was a tall, rangy non-cat. The coyote Ivoryshard tended to follow the other cats at a safe distance, sniffing around and waving his tail and generally being a goof.
He trotted into camp and dropped a whole rabbit on the freshkill pile with a longing look- he wanted to eat it very badly. The cats ate much less than he did, and if there wasn't necessarily enough to keep even the cats well fed, as in winter there often wasn't, Ivoryshard tended to spend all his time hungry.
But he didn't really mind. He whirled as Lunakit came flying out of one of the dens. That little one made the canine wonder sometimes. And then sometimes he wished he was a cat, so he could be a mentor, so he could even stand the chance of teaching the kit a thing or two. She couldn't be that bad- she was her father's son. Anyway, he would have gladly taken the chance to mentor anyone. But he was a coyote- that would have been passing strange. Really, he felt he was probably very lucky that Sunsetfire had let him stick around long after he'd reached full adult age.
Ivory whirled again as a cat entered the camp. He had an excellent memory for smells, and sniffed at the air trying to decide why this tom smelled familiar. Then Sunsetfire spoke, and Ivory realized it.
With a happy bark, he ran and crouched just slightly farther away from the old deputy than his leader currently stood, tail waving and wiggling from nose to tail while making happy whining noises by way of hello. All clan members were typically subject to such greetings, but rarely were they so enthusiastic. It was not very dignified, which was unlike Ivory, once a silly bumbling half-pup. But he was very excited to see the deputy they'd all thought was lost.[/center][/size]
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Post by Chainrust on Dec 19, 2008 1:43:45 GMT -5
He ignored the shallow cuts that raked over his forehead and spine, narrowly missing the tender cut. He didn't even realize he had them. He gazed at the Clan Camp full of nostalgia. He held his ground as the clan began to crowd around him, only moving his eyes calmly but warily about. He tilted his muzzle lightly to face the crowd.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Suddenly, there was a cat before him, protecting a young kit from... Him? Chainless? He kept his face emotionless as he faced his best friend. His former best friend, his former leader. Chainless hardly named himself under Stealthclan's Allegiance; he'd been gone for so long. They had thought him dead, gone.
Stranger, while I commend you for your skill into slipping into my camp so easily, I believe that perhaps it is time for you to… Go? Leave? Chainrust felt slightly taken aback. He turned his head as if to leave curtly, without a word, but the silence that filled the air held him back. Even the young kit bent on attacking him was stopped. He kept his head low, but his eyes rose to meet Sunsetfire dead on.
You would do well, old friend, not to send away a tom from his clan Chainrust said slowly, deliberatly. It was as he had always spoke, each word turned over in his mouth before he let it go. But his voice, where it still retained it's deep and monotonous tone, it had became gruff and warped from so many hard days struggling to stay alive.
I saw you die, and lived since then with the constant memory of how I was unable to get to your side and change that exact fate. Tell me how you, now, stand before me. And tell me for what reason that after all this time, you now finally chose to return. Sunsetfire was accusing him, Chainrust, of not returning? As if a part of his kit self was still there, he yearned to be understood, to be spoken to. It seemed Chainrust once more had to prove himself of the eyes of his old friend. He let his leader's words linger in the still night, and he closed his eyes and kept on breathing. The night breeze whipped lightly around his ankles.
Many moons ago He began, opening his sage eyes You saw me fall. You saw me die. I should have died then. But luck should have it, I did not. He turned his face away to glance at those gathered around, smiling fondly at Ivory. He was always fond of the canine companion of Stealthclan. Where he did not socialize well with other cats, he somehow connected to the coyote. He looked up to look at the sky, deep in thought.
I was vaguely aware of the battle around me. I do recall when it was ended, when they ended Bane's life. The last thing I recall on that day was meeting a couple of rogues. They had passed through the battlegrounds, and luck have it they found me still alive. I had much bloodloss, Sunsetfire. I sacrificed my life to save the leader from the golden tom, Bane's lackey. He replayed the scene in his head. Surrounded by blood, not a fleck of green grass to be seen as his blood melted with other's spilled, whether they had died beside him or lost it and carried on. He recalled as they announced Bane's death, and how they returned home, and how a small band of rogues had found him barely breathing.
The rogues knew a bit of medicine. The biggest source of bloodloss was a laceration to my head. I had lapsed into a coma for several months. But the rogues, they took care of me. All that time. They were amazed I was still alive when I broke my coma and realized I still walked among the living. I only regained mobility some few weeks ago, and I gradually built up my strength. It was true. Like Sunsetfire, who had formed into his father in ever physical aspect, Chainrust had grown stronger. He lost his kit pudge, and he had slimmed down, almost to the point of being slightly malnourished. He helped the rogue band survive as he grew his strength as payment, but prey was scarce. It showed greatly. Still, nobody could deny he had filled out into a formidable opponent.
I had decided yesterday to return home to my Clan. Perhaps i'm not welcome here, perhaps I am, but I would have died regretfully if I had never known He said, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned his head away, touching the scar on his forehead with the tip of his tail. |
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Post by Onyxdart on Dec 19, 2008 1:58:17 GMT -5
When he just couldn't help it any more, Ivory crept forward as if no one would see him if he just stayed down, and stopped next to Chainrust, grinning up at him. He definitely thought Chainrust should stay, but he understood the concept of respecting Sunsetfire's leadership. It was he who had to make the decision, but Ivory threw his vote in with a very heartfelt puppy-dog look to the leader, accompanied by a good deal of tail wagging.
Then, realizing he'd meant not to be seen, but that he really wanted Sunsetfire to know that he thought Chainrust should stay, the coyote closed his mouth- he'd been grinning- and tipped both ears back, tail pausing mid-wag as he tried to solve his conundrum.
He settled for sitting in a somewhat dignified manner next to Chainrust, tail still waving very gently, looking completely innocent of breaking up a serious gathering with canine hijinks and tradition. But it was more or less clear he really wanted the deputy to stay, now that he'd more or less miraculously come back to life. It was nice having at least one cat besides his sister who really never jumped when he came tearing out of the bushes when they were hunting, as he chased a rabbit or something else. He thought maybe some of the cats were just sure one day he was going to tackle them instead. [/center][/size] |
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Post by Sunsetfire on Dec 19, 2008 23:29:22 GMT -5
There are those who think
That life has nothing left to chance.
A host of holy horrors
to direct our aimless dance.
A planet of playthings.
.x.
Sunsetfire glanced back in Coyotesummer’s direction, noticing yet completely comfortable with Ivoryshard’s presence, and the she-cat nodded slightly and disappeared into the brambles to continue on with the patrol she had been planning before this interruption. Chainrust was not one to try anything, ever, and even those his words were said in a cool, aloof tone – hinting at not one of Sunsetfire’s true emotions – he still trusted the tom before him. Both had grown into their own since those days long past when they were just kits, a little tom who called himself leader of Stealthclan, a clan born from hopes and dreams, and a little tom who stood by his side as deputy.
Lunakit, however, wasn’t nearly as patient as her father was in wait for Chainrust’s answer. The little kit yowled and hissed and plainly raised hell from her point across camp, ears flattened in anger at such an interruption. Sunsetfire gave her a hard glance, reading himself to rise and send her back to the nursery, when she gave up her fit and stalked out of view. The golden leader shook his head with a exasperated sigh concerning her wild behavior – he had tried to be a good father, to punish her when she was wrong and praise her when she had done right. But he was also clan leader – he couldn’t be there to watch over her all the time as a mother would have and Lunakit had suffered from that lack of parental attention – becoming fierce and independent quickly. “Daughters..”
Sunsetfire remained still, however, and listened as Chainrust spoke like he had never heard his best friend spoke in his life, turning out word after word until it became a story. Ivoryshard came forward and sat supportively beside Chainrust, but Sunsetfire said not one cross word at the canine in doing so – to him, Ivoryshard was as much a member of Stealthclan and had every right to have a say in clan affairs – which this certainly counted as.
But it was the truth.
“This has never not been your home Chainrust, and I would like you to point out the cat who says otherwise.” Was Sunsetfire’s final say on the matter, trusting his own innate skill – honed and worked on since he was just that little kit with big dreams – and knowing that his friend spoke the truth. “I have not made another deputy since we had believed we’d lost you, and if you would like to return to it too you may. It is your decision, my friend, I’ll support what you choose.” Warmth entered the noble tom’s eyes as he smiled at Chainrust, truly happy to have such a valued friend returning into his life.
.x.
We dance on the
S t r i n g o f p o w e r s
We cannot perceive.
“The stars aren’t aligned
Or the Gods are malign.”
blame
is better to give
than receive.
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Post by Onyxdart on Dec 20, 2008 0:41:10 GMT -5
Happy now that a very important decision had been reached, the coyote gave the ground a final brush with his tail, and pranced over to Sunsetfire, looking the way his leader's daughter had gone. Coyotesummer was out, at least, and would hear if anyone got into any trouble, he hoped, but Ivory had inherited his kind's need to always watch out for the youngsters- it would probably drive him crazy when there were all kinds of kits around. But right now, the only one out and about was Lunakit.
"She might get into trouble, I smelled foxes around earlier," he said, sounding apologetic, feeling that he was really interfering here, but unable to help himself. It was just how he was. He waved his tail, just slightly and down all the way at his heels, before padding off in perfect silence to keep an eye on the kit while there were more important things for everyone else to see to in camp. And then if any good-for-nothing foxes happened to show up, he could at least try to keep Lunakit from trying to kill them. Not that he doubted her ability to do a really admirable job of harassing them, but foxes were tricky, and they'd cheat just to take out a lone kit. Ivory had no doubt of this. And while the ones he'd smelled had seemed to be far away, he didn't expect them to stay there if they got a whiff of a lone kit.
But unless something happened, he intended to watch from downwind- he still had better smell and hearing than the cats, for the most part- and just keep an eye on things. [/center][/size] |
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