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Post by LYNX ♥ on Jul 19, 2011 22:06:53 GMT -5
The fallen evergreen, more than partially rotten and more than partially shrouded in the deepest of shadows held more of a looming presence than ever before on the hazy early summer afternoon, the female noted, as she peered across camp. Things seemed hushed, though VertigoClan was never much of a rowdy bunch. Everything still seemed a bit.... alien. Pyrethroat couldn't quite place the uncomfortable feeling, but she was sure that Lynxstar's crippling illness was to blame for it. Though, of course, the heavy blanket of humidity seemed to weigh down the mood of camp as well, muffling the noises like fog.
Surely Icefeather was trying as hard as he could, but obviously his herbs were worth nothing in the battle against this sickness which, though the rest of the clan appeared be denying, was spreading. The lean calico couldn't afford to be afraid for her own health when there was a clan to lead. She hadn't seen much of Lilythorn lately either, for the ginger she-cat had probably gone and caught the bug herself. At least she retained enough dignity to assign patrols. Of course, Pyrethroat herself could have done it, but alas, Lilythorn would never shrug off her duties to a rival such as herself. Smugly, the calico lifted her chin and drew her tongue across her chops. Still, the deputy had the grace to allow Pyrethroat to lead a patrol at least. Wrinkling her nose at once, she gulped down the rest of her meager meal and threw Lynxstar's den one last glance of apprehension before trotting out into the center of camp and clearing her throat.
"Flamingarrow?" She called out, loud enough that her clanmates could hear her without having to yowl. Pyrethroat still thought the green-eyed female was best kept busy as she appeared to be a rather useful member of the clan, what with her 'special' training and occasionally sharp wit. The bob-tailed warrior thought perhaps the tabby would be a prime individual to earn support from. "Patrol, please. Fetch Wraithpaw, too if you would." Maybe. Perhaps not, for she was obviously very close to Lilythorn. Then again, she realized, Jetfang was also particularly fond of the current deputy, and Pyrethroat never struggled to stay on his good side. Thoughtfully, she realized she ought to bring him as well. Standing to shake the dust from her short pelt, the trotted to the warrior's den where she poked her head inside the dank shelter. "Oh, hello Galefrost. Care for a patrol?" Her tone formed more of a request than an inquiry, for she exited before he could answer. If she knew Galefrost anyway, he would probably come along regardless of what he desired. Serving the clan was his strong point, surely,
"Jetfang?" Pyrethroat's deep voice soared through the small pine clearing, a bit too sharp as usual. "Patrol please!" They would gather around her in time, so she rested upon her haunches and set about to a quick cleaning.
tagged ! dawn, lily, minty, dusk
music ! flaming lips, matthew friedberger, arcade fire, yyys
other ! OKAY there are a lot of people in this thread. hmph. okay well I guess we'll just wing it and try to keep this organized. this will be the patrol that discovers the source of the illness. {:
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Post by lily ♫ on Jul 22, 2011 7:45:34 GMT -5
Flamingarrow had witnessed the sickness slowly affecting the pale ginger deputy. She was constantly leaving camp to find a drink for her parched and sore throat and left her nest just long enough to assign patrols and chat with Icefeather. Lilythorn was just as slowly accepting the fact that others knew she was becoming ill. Shaking her head, the bright ginger femme's emerald eyes opened more widely as a cat called her name. The voice was deep, but familiar, and the owner of the voic was none other than the calico bobtail, Pyrethroat. A slight smile came upon her face as Flamingarrow rose from her sitting position and began to approach the other female warrior with an even, unhurried gait. "Pyrethroat." Murmured the tabby female, her scarlet pelt matching some of the older she-cat's vibrant patches. "A patrol sounds nice. I'll go get him."
Her bright eyes watched the calico closely before she turned about and whisked away to where her apprentice still slept inside his den. "Wraithpaw." She more stated than called out to him before ducking her head into the den filled with only one or two sleeping forms. Her forepaw shot out quickly, tapping her apprentice lightly on the shoulder once to rouse him before exiting the den. Flamingarrow waited a few moments outside before briefing the young tom. "We're on Pyrethroat's patrol today." The female quipped, looking down at the tom for a moment before continuing on her way back to the bobtail femme. "Well, how have you been lately, Pyrethroat? And more importantly, how's Lynxstar?" Flamingarrow lowered her voice at her second question, and the way her voice quavered as she meowed showed the worry she had inside every moment that the VertigoClan leader, and her former mentor, was sick.
Glancing around camp, she sat down next to the patrol leader and waited for an answer, her fiery green eyes locking onto a black and white tom with mismatched eyes. Jetfang was coming too? 'Oh no.' She groaned inwardly, highly doubtful that he'd even speak to her. The tom was being a big baby, but Flamingarrow wouldn't let it bother her. Rolling her eyes, she watched for the approach of Galefrost too with as much patience as the bright ginger tabby could muster at the moment.
tagged: lynx, minty, dawn, & the lovely dusk
muse: the birdsong & crickets outside my window
notes: ^^^poop
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Post by Dusk on Jul 22, 2011 20:33:54 GMT -5
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There were so many happenings going on throughout the camp. Cats in the clan were slowly being afflicted with some strange sickness left and right, although most seemed to be unable to accept that a medicine cat was unable to bring about a cure. So pointless, cats failing to accept the cold hard truth simply because the truth was often merciless and painful to see in all its reality. Although, perhaps that wasn't the only thing throwing off so many in the clan. More that this apparently incurable illness had affected not only the leader, but the deputy as well; though the ever-determined Lilythorn was doing her best to keep things going in the clan. The outlook for the clan was bleak, and no cat would want to consider what would happen if the sickness got worse or if all the Vertigoclan warriors were infected.
'Perhaps they should try their best to quarantine the sicker ones until Icefeather finds a cure.'
It wasn't a pleasant idea, but it was an idea all the same. Sacrifices had to be made to achieve the greater good; surprisingly few seemed to understand that philosophy. At least it was better than just letting a disease permeate throughout the camp until word got out to other clans that great warriors of Vertigoclan were weak.
There were too many thoughts going through the grayish-brown cat's head; he should have been sleeping not dwelling on the current state of affairs in the clan. After all, wasn't it nearly moon-high? The day would be busy tomorrow and the tom would need to remain strong both physically and mentally if he didn't want to fail others. Still, rest evaded Galefrost as he lay apart from the other sleeping felines in the den. Whenever he settled his head on his paws and let heavy lids settles down over his eyes he just saw images of sick cats and battle; seemed the only thing sleep would do was give his thoughts a mental visualization. His ears perked as a commanding, though not overbearing voice drifted faintly into the den. It wasn't too long until the bearer of that voice popped quickly into the shelter of the overhang and let her green-flecked gaze rest on the large tabby. The tom gave a small nod, but already she was turning and heading out of the den so that the younger warrior was dipping his head to a bobbed tail.
Well, it wasn't as though he hadn't picked up on the tone of a request charading as an inquiry. A patrol... he needed something to work off the energy anyways. The tom heaved himself to his paws and made his ways out of the den, pausing only to pull a few scraps of moss from the long fur around his neck. Blue-green eyes fell upon the two she-cats already waiting and apparently in some sort of discussion, about what he couldn't say; judging by the way Flamingarrow kept her voice low it was probably more than a simple "how's life been for you?". Some small part of him piqued with curiosity, an emotion he was quick to force down before it evolved in snooping or nosiness. He stood slightly apart from the other warriors, distant as ever, with only a quiet murmur of "Good evening" before resting on his haunches to let his eyes drift through the camp in search of the final patrol members.
notes: still getting a hang of the character |
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Post by MiNTY♥ on Jul 23, 2011 14:09:56 GMT -5
Every muscle in his lean, white body tensed as he felt the soft pad of another gently touch him. Jumping to his feet he spun around and instinctively prepared himself to bare his fangs at his awakener. However, the young tom caught himself just in time to keep his fangs away as he watched Flamingarrow with narrowed eyes from the dim light of the apprentices den. Turning his back on her he smoothed his ruffled fur with his tongue and flicked scraps of moss and other elements that were in his nest onto the ground. Sucking in his breath he pushed his way out of the apprentices den and looked over his shoulder at his mentor as he did, who happened to be waiting on him. He felt a small stirring of satisfaction from within him as he looked over the top of his mentors head and nodded as he slunk past her. The clans patrolled far too much for his liking. None of the clans, to his knowledge, were at each other’s throats and if a loner wandered into camp it would stand no chance against a whole clan of skilled – in some cases - warriors. Therefore there was little reason to be quite as paranoid. Plus with sick cats it was taking a lot for them to keep up their duties.
Taking a seat near Pyrethroat and Galefrost he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. He could scent the beginnings of a sour pang coming from his mentor, Flamingarrow, which caused him to shudder slightly from within. It was the scent that he associated with the other sick cats around camp including his leader and deputy and whenever he caught a whiff of it, it caused him to tense up a little. Despite the threat this had on the clan he wasn’t as uneasy as most cats were about their leader and deputy being sick. He didn’t particularly care for either of the clan council. He rarely saw much of either of them and spoke to them even less. In fact it would be a miracle if he had even said ten words to his leader. It would be a miracle if he had said ten words to more than half of his clan mates. It took some skill to spend that much of your life in the shadows, especially when you have a white pelt.
Inwardly he rolled his eyes at the two she-cats gossiping together and took this opportunity to look over at the other male, Galefrost. The tom also remained reasonably quiet so that looked almost promising. A male role model who could manage to keep his maw shut for longer than five minutes possibly? He couldn’t stand all of the unnecessary comments that got thrown around here to which you were supposed to make polite conversation as a response. Polite conversation his arse, Wraithpaw rarely talked to anyone unless he really had to.
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Post by Dawn on Jul 27, 2011 12:19:59 GMT -5
* JETFANG
[/size][/font] There's something wrong here | There can be no denying
Four names had been called by one that he knew well. Galefrost; Wraithpaw; Flamingarrow and of course, himself, Jetfang. The voice that sent out, quite confidently, the call for a patrol belonged to none other than Pyrethroat, a lovely bold calico warrior with a sharp tongue and yet sharper claws. Kin of their sick leader, Lynxstar, that was clear. They shared certain qualities, and yet... Foggily, Jetfang rattled the troublesome thoughts from his head. Had he given the sickness to Lynxstar, or had she given it to him? There was no denying that it dallied with Vertigoclan, that others bodies as well yielded to it's toxic breath. Dangerous things were to come, for among the sick; Lynxstar, Reflectedrain, himself, Crowpaw, and she who he cared most for, Lilythorn. They hadn't spoken since that fateful night when she had fled from him in the woods, he hadn't even been able to bear to meet her eyes, but he could tell she was sick and growing weaker, as he was. Even if she seemingly rejected him, even if it broke his heart and they grew farther apart, he still cared immensely for her and the thought that her life was in danger ached more than the knowledge that both leader and deputy had been stricken. That he now lay in a makeshift nest at the edge of the clearing, where he had made it so that he wouldn't be close to the healthy warriors. His throat was sore and dry, and there was a sour feeling in his stomach and chest, like thousands of poisonous butterflies beating their wings against his rib cage.
Jetfang was generally made fond of about camp. On his best days, his fur shone sleek over muscles, ebony and ivory, his unique gaze of amber and blue gleaming a friendly light. He was large, and bold, and every bit a warrior in his prime. Today, as he lay in the shade, he seemed much smaller. He had eaten little at a time, for the prey caught seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth. His black fur hung on him, his pelt seeming too big, and his eyes were half closed, the thin black pupils that peered out at the world seeming to shrink back to slits, hiding from the light. Jetfang sensed he was dying, was in the throes of it all just like his companions. I have to tell Crowpaw before it is too late. I have to tell Lilythorn... Will they ever forgive me? He pushed hard to his paws, pushed for the second time since the calico had sent for him, and succeeded; he stood weakly, and gave himself a shake, and didn't think much about the cats that he was now to patrol with. Firstly, a female who misread him completely, Flamingarrow; her cold hearted apprentice, Wraithpaw; and Galefrost, who he was not particularly close to. It didn't matter, because he had forgotten now the sting of harsh words and the emotions of pain and longing. He was as tired as an elder, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and have an everlasting, untroubled sleep. For now, though, there was work to attend to.
Bravely opening his eyes fully, the tom padded evenly across the clearing, shade dappling his pelt, to Pyrethroat. He remained focused on her, making it his only current goal to reach her and join the patrol. He appeared sturdier in his walk than he really was, tail as high as it should be, betraying the dullness in his gaze. He wouldn't let his own worries and weakness rest upon their already heavy shoulders. He would, indeed, square his own boldly, and give himself a few quick licks over his white patches, and join them presently. The others were all there, waiting for him, but he felt no shame in being last, as an elder warrior feels no shame in catching smaller prey than his young prodigy. Jetfang dipped his head in turn to all of them; first, Pyrethroat, then Flamingarrow and Galefrost, and lastly, but with no less respect, Wraithpaw. His eyes met each of their's distantly, but for a moment longer on the emerald lights of the ginger female, and then he spoke. His voice was gravelly and rough through no fault of his own as he settled among them, fluffing out his tail fur. "My apologies that I'm late, Pyrethroat." He mewed politely, and turned his head downwards to cough softly. "I'm more than ready to patrol now."
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Post by LYNX ♥ on Jul 27, 2011 22:41:37 GMT -5
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PYRETHROAT They gathered in a slow but sure manner, each cat making their way toward her in time. Though she still felt the incessant urge to snap for them to hurry their rumps up, the she-cat knew where the line was, and though her patience was like the sliver of a moon above - nearly nonexistent - Pyrethroat was aware that she would never gain the trust and friendship of her clanmates by being an insufferable asshole. So she kept her trap shut. That is, until Flamingarrow arrived on the site, and the warrior forced herself to re-acknowledge the vermilion tabby with a slight flex of her forepaw and a soft grunt, drawing her eyes up to meet the other she-cat's gaze of emerald before peering past her clanmate to find the pallid coat of Wraithpaw drawing near. He looked much like his namesake that particular evening, with little moonlight to guide the way.
Pyrethroat's attention returned to Flamingarrow and she let her maw fall open ever-so-slightly, so that her words were soft and slurred, meant for the ginger's ears only. "She's clinging to her last life. If you can catch her awake, I'd say my goodbyes now." Her topaz eyes were downcast, staring at her own frosty white paws, though her ears were angled toward Flamingarrow. She hated that she found herself unable to sugarcoat the gossip, for it almost made her ambitions seem rather evident. Perhaps she was just paranoid.
Good evening. When the tabby tom she had summoned from the warrior's den approached, Pyrethroat caught his aquamarine gaze for a fleeting moment only before turning away, growing hot with the fact that she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge him much more than that. Her attention was swiftly diverted from the small party she had gathered to rest on the final member, who had, at last, made his way over. The calico couldn't help but frown when she observed his dull mismatched gaze, scruffy coat, and lackluster show of emotion. Sure, he was putting up a good front, but Lilythorn must have spread the illness to him. Thanks a lot Lilythorn. She inwardly moaned, but dipped her head to Jetfang in a friendly manner anyway. "Actually," She meowed, letting her shortened tail move in the way that it often did, "Perhaps you'd be better suited for some rest Jetfang? I'd hate to have Icefeather claw off my ears for dragging you out when you need your strength." Her gaze narrowed when she peered into his face, certain he would deny any weakness regardless of his condition.
"It's up to you, really," She moved to speak to the rest of the group, "Well let's get going then. I'd like to explore the eastern border, if you guys don't mind, and we oughta be home before the dawn patrol's sent out." Pyrethroat emitted an easy grin and picked herself up off the needle carpet that made up VertigoClan, heading for the destination that lay upon the furthest corner of the territory, clanmates in her wake.
they've got the land but we've got the view TEMPLATE BY BROOKE |
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Post by lily ♫ on Jul 27, 2011 23:36:39 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true] »FLAMINGARROW« As soon as Pyrethroat's slurred mass of words slipped from her mouth into Flamingarrow's ears, the lids clamped shut on the bright emerald lights. 'No!' The ginger female wanted cry out in a loud and painful caterwaul. It wouldn't be proper, though, and Flamingarrow had to keep her cool so that she might be able to keep her respect for Lynxstar intact. 'It's not her fault that she's sick.' Thought the reddened femme, her entire body tensed with emotions ready to spill over. Breathe. And so she did, sucking in a large, unadulterated gulp of air and holding it inside herself until it escaped in a long, depressing sigh. "I-I will, Pyrethroat. Thank you." The elder of the two bobtails was clinging to her last life, and the pain Flamingarrow felt was near unbearable.
Finally, after instead clamping her jaws shut, her eyes opened, horror lacing them. Clearing her throat, she noticed the arrival of Galefrost and then Jetfang. Opening her mouth stupidly, the young fiery she-cat sat there with her mouth wide open before it shut with a clack of her teeth as she bit back a words that should rather be left unspoken. The mismatched pelt colors and his eyes had a sickening glossy shine to them, and he was ungroomed and thinner than Flamingarrow had seen him in a long, long time. Before she could ask him how he was, she looked away, diverting her gaze to peer down at her silvery-white apprentice, a fake smile plastering itself halfway upon her face. "Well, how are you tonight, kiddo?" Asked the mentor, curious as to what her often loathsome apprentice's answer might be.
Peering down at his much younger face made Flamingarrow feel better. 'Life will continue onward, and Lynxstar shall guide our paths from StarClan.' She thought to herself, now looking to her paws before looking to Pyrethroat once more. "Alright." She mewed, glancing at Jetfang with a sad smile on her face. The female was well aware that he would indeed be joining them on the remainder of the patrol. Afterall, if anyone had assigned him to it, especially Lilythorn, Jetfang would rather die performing the duty than remain inside camp, lounging about. Shaking her head as she began to follow Pyrethroat, she let her tail flick freely about, looking back to Wraithpaw and twitching her ears a bit in the process. 'StarClan, let this be a good patrol.'
tag: lynx, minty, dusk ~ muse: disney chanel note: DONE |
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Post by Dusk on Jul 29, 2011 11:27:51 GMT -5
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Icy eyes narrowed as he spotted a white tom padding towards them, almost spectral in the darkness of the near-moonless night. The apprentice always seemed sullen and angry over something, though, perhaps, his behavior wasn't unwarranted considering how he was treated over his less than savory heritage. The white tom couldn't help it who his father was, it wasn't as though kits chose their sires; Galefrost knew the stares and murmurs that wandered through the clan about Wraithpaw likely didn't encourage any amity between the apprentice and others. The tom turned away his gaze before he was caught staring, though there was no judgement of the younger tom in his eyes; he was just making a cold observation. A whiff of sickness drifted past the tabby's nose and made him flinch, pulling his attention to where the diseased stench emanated. He didn't bother attempting to hide a deepening frown while turning those cold eyes to survey the last member of their patrol. Jetfang.
The older tom was looking more than a little rough around the edges from his battle with this incessant illness. He looked positively haggard. A mental image was conjured up -unasked but instinctive- in his mind's eye of the same tom just a few weeks earlier, before he'd begun showing any symptoms. Comparing the two, his body stiffened and the warrior had to resist the sudden urge to take a step back from he sick cat. 'This is a warrior to be respected and treated with proper dignity, not like some piece of rancid prey.' He mentally chastised while returning the respectful inclination of his head. It would be good to accept the sickness for what it was rather than fear it, the tom resolved; fear was weakness, he needed to be fearless - or at least look the part. Like Jetfang. The warrior might have been ill but he was still making a point to pull his own weight rather than make for another burden for the slowly dwindling stock of warriors to manage and work around. The black and white tom wouldn't take fail to join them even when it was more conducive to his health to stay in his nest; Galefrost had total confidence in this.
With a grunt, he stood and padded after the two she-cats, careful not to overtake either of them even as Flamingarrow slowed to find her apprentice.It seemed a calm night, though the darkness ruled; it practically mocked the tiny silver sliver of moon's feeble attempt to bring down light on the forest. The shadows wouldn't be ousted by a wash of silver this evening. The forest was almost totally engulfed, only the peaks of the trees would be bathed in moonlight. 'A dark night for dark matters?' The tom gave a minuscule shake of his head at the thought. It was just the darkness causing small strains of paranoia to anchor themselves in the warrior's mind. A simple moon-high patrol, that's all this was.
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Post by MiNTY♥ on Jul 29, 2011 16:53:03 GMT -5
one night of the hunter, one day i will get revenge,
one night to remember, one day it'll all just end Catching the last part of the conversation between Pyrethorat and Flamingarrow his eyes narrowed slightly. He had no idea that Lynxstar had been so sick this whole time. It wasn’t as though he had ever been close to the leader or anything, she was just always there to make sure everything was running smoothly but he was sure Lilythorn was sick too. Not being much of a clan player his thoughts didn’t usually spend much time on the subject of the leader and the deputy but the fact that both of them could potentially die soon sent small shivers down his spine. Even if he had never known Lynxstar properly she had always seemed fair and he had felt safe with her leading the clan. Scolding himself he shook these thoughts from his head. He wasn’t a kit any longer and he had to look out for himself.
Not long after he had joined the cats gathering for the patrol he could scent the same sour smell, only this time it was becoming from behind him. The temptation to turn around and gaze at the sick cat was quite overpowering. However, he managed to compose himself just in time to watch a black tom appear a short distance away from him. His cinnamon coloured eyes narrowed as he glanced towards Pyrethroat and then back to Jetfang. He studied the others as they began to notice it as well and his ears twitched as he heard what the tom said. Personally he highly doubted how ready Jetfang was to patrol but after all he was only a lowly apprentice, what did he know? Keeping his mouth shut he took a mental note to keep his distance from the infected tom. He would never be able to kill Shard if he ended up like that.
As it happened his suspicious thoughts had been right as he listened to what Pyrethroat had to say. A warm feeling rose from inside at the fact he had thought the same as a senior warrior; even though he had to admit he wasn’t really surprised about this. It was just fate, it had to be. He had been made this intelligent so that he could defeat Shard. He looked at the cats around him and then at the image of the large black tom in his head. They probably didn’t even see it coming. Most of Vertigoclan thought he would end up running off to Shard and being a danger to the clan but he would prove them so wrong as soon as the black tom lay dead at his own paws. They would see how hard he had worked and they would respect him from that day on. Wraithpaw felt as though there were no options; he simply had to do this.
As he started to pad after the patrol at Pyrethorat’s signal his thoughts were interrupted by a bright orange female, shorter than himself but still in charge. ”Just peachy after my epiphany, thanks.” He retorted with a sarcastic edge heavily laced into his tone. His words were few and far between but in those few words he should at least have the skill to surprise cats, for instance most of the time he is blunt and uses words that sound displeasing to the ear. However, if every now and then he threw in a word such as ‘peachy’ he would manage to keep them all on their toes. Plus there was always amusement in messing with his mentors head a little. ”So what’s up?” He asked. Normally he didn’t care much for casual conversation but he did like to know anything and everything that was going on, and so he listened hopefully despite the doubts already circling his head. |
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Post by Dawn on Aug 1, 2011 8:29:12 GMT -5
{ JETFANG }
[/size][/font] I'm losing ground | And still I can't stand down
Waking up at the start of the end of the world,
But it's feeling just like every other morning before,
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone
[/center] B[/size][/font]etter suited for some rest. No doubt, if he had been a younger, less stubborn tom, she could have forced him to go back to rest with just those words, made him feel sheepish for trying to remain strong. However, he was neither a young, fresh warrior nor one without a hard head, and though he certainly couldn't say he was 'fine' and 'in perfect health' he wasn't about to skip out on a patrol that he had been assigned to. He had enough strength to help out as best he could, and still hopefully some left over with which to fight the disease. Jetfang gave his ruffled fur a shake, which gave it a bit more appearance, fluffing out the parts that stuck down. "You won't be dragging me along, Pyrethroat." He meowed politely, his quiet tone showing that he didn't want to make a big deal about it but that he wasn't turning back, either. "I'm coming by my own will." Though he looked like he'd been through hell and back, he managed a faint smile, so as not to draw any more pity, which he had felt sickeningly from clanmates that were still healthy, and those in better description. He couldn't stand the softened tones, the words spoken around a cat that could in any case be dead the next day. It was frightening to sleep in his nest at night, alone, and know that he might never wake up. Tonight he wouldn't have to worry about that; the moonhigh patrol would keep him up through the night, and he could fight against it. Starclan wouldn't horrify his friends that way, would they? Having him, if they wished, drop dead in his path as they patrolled the borders? Noting that the group leader had been the only cat to speak to him, from necessity rather than want to be conversational, he sighed. It was bound to be an awkward patrol. He distanced himself from the other cats, taking up the back so as not to get too close. T[/size][/font]here wasn't much chance of anyone saying anything to him, so Jetfang simply plodded faithfully along. His face was emotionless, his thoughts were his own, and feelings about the future were guarded from even himself. He mostly tuned out as mentor and apprentice talked, knowing by the flame furred she-cat's expression that she knew how badly things were going wrong, careening out of control. Nothing ever seemed to go right for Vertigoclan. He couldn't help but feel this was true because of what Lilythorn had said, even if he had reassured her. He could not reassure himself; even when something was right, like his befriending the deputy, it was bound to fall apart in the end. Now the world was turned upside down, and though the future looked grim, he had no idea what was in store for the ill clan whose numbers dwindled. The present, in fact, looked quite dreary. There was barely a moon in the sky, and blackness suffocated him, pressing against his own sable fur. He felt overwhelming claustrophobia as though the starry sky pressed down on him, threatening to crush the warrior. Watching the others ahead, he wondered if they, too, felt something ominous about this patrol. [/size] [/blockquote] |
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Post by LYNX ♥ on Aug 2, 2011 14:16:09 GMT -5
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PYRETHROAT It truly melted her heart of stone, watching the ocean of emotions crash down within the other female's emerald eyes. She couldn't help but feel not only guilty, but embarrassed by the other's reaction, so the calico warrior shifted her gaze quickly away, she noticed the alabaster apprentice letting his haunting amber gaze rest on her, and she stared calmly back, looking at him for what he was - the son of a rogue and a traitor, but overflowing with potential for VertigoClan. Could he really help his lineage? Not a bit, and Pyrethroat could understand that, though her conscience still flung silent judgement toward him, the she-cat continued to fight to keep an even head when regarding him. Wraithpaw is his own cat, and he'll make his own way in the clan. She told herself, finally blinking to break the eye contact, she at last brought herself to turn and exit the camp, her graceful paws treading heavily upon the pine needle paths.
Pyrethroat lifted her head almost smugly, topaz gaze narrowing with satisfaction that pulsed in her ears each time she felt leadership growing nearer to her grasp. As each patrol member fell in behind her, the warrior padded silkily through the forest, looking like a vividly-hued ghost. The passed soul of a soldier, proudly leading her troop into battle. Though, in reality she was leading them only into a growing hunch of hers, the female cherished the noble feeling nonetheless. Her intuition was screaming for her to follow the very trail they walked, to where the wolf's body surely lay. An unpleasant jolt of nostalgia shook her as the calico looked around, thrown into the former moon, where she and several others had been sent to leave the carcass just outside of the border, where the cats would never feel its blight again. However, the rapidly-spreading illness could be blamed on little else, and Pyrethroat sensed no harm in investigating the site of burial.
"Almost there," She murmured, her velvet voice hardly projecting to the other patrol members, as she was mostly speaking to herself. Her maw parted slightly, and hot air rushed in, filled with moisture and humidity from the still night but sure enough; Pyrethroat could taste the sweet musk that permeated the area, letting all cats know this was VertigoClan land. The bobtail padded through without hesitation, knowing she was probably catching her clanmates off-guard but paid them no heed. Moving her whiskers slowly, the stocky she-cat halted, and lifted her muzzle skyward, where the evergreen forest began to thin into bare mountain, where layers of shale and limestone fought over residence upon the frighteningly steep hill. Well... this would be a good, if dangerous, experience for the apprentice at least. Narrowing her gaze, Pyrethroat caught sight of the silver thread of a stream not far off, and bit her lip to keep her sigh pent-up.
Glancing over her shoulder, she addressed the patrol. "That stream wasn't there when we brought the wolf's carrion out here." Pause, she collected her thoughts as best as she could, putting a face of mock cheer on. "Luckily for us, the torrential rains have created that nice little brook. It's great scenery in the daytime, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I'm certain that's where the wolf was buried." Again, she stopped speaking, so that her words could sink in for a moment. Of course they all understood what had happened. Surely they could realize this was indeed the source of it all? "Now I haven't been out here since the stream was created, but I figure that if it's followed, it will flow directly into the clans' water systems. Striking VertigoClan first before crippling ZephyrClan, then TempestClan and finally CelestialClan." Her voice remained strong though the message she conveyed was one of utmost ominous feeling, and the patched she-cat met each clanmates' gaze in turn, willing them to voice their own opinions.
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Post by lily ♫ on Aug 4, 2011 7:42:55 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #985151;,true][cs=2] FLAMINGARROW ! MY FRIENDS CALL ME FLAMEY. I JUST SO HAPPEN TO BE A MEMBER OF VERTIGOCLAN. I'M ALONE NOW, BUT I'M SPUNKY, BLUNT AND NOT AFRAID TO FIGHT.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - n o t e s , | [atrb=width,240]Silver light streamed brilliantly through the evergreen above, adding a bit of a glimmer to the needles below and bathing the patrol of cats as they waked onward, making bits of small talk here and there. It would have been a normal patrol, if not for the sense of unease they all secretly held, and every step added a new kind of tension to the air, like brushing against one another and creating a static shock.
Flamingarrow felt this unease as she stayed near her ghost of an apprentice, his name even related to apparitions. Her emerald eyes glowed in the half-light. Stifling a short chuckle, she looked to the handsome ivory form near her. "What epiphany? |
[/u]" The mentor asked lightly of her apprentice, tilting her head a bit so that she could look down at him from a better angle as they continued putting one paw in front of the other. " Nothing, really, Wraithpaw. How about you?[/u]" The bright ginger inquired before looking up toward Pyrethroat as she spoke. ' Almost..where?' Stepping closer to the front of the patrol, Flamingarrow watched the calico closely as they approached a stream, and then she stared as the bob-tailed female spoke. " Dear StarClan! Carrion in the first place isn't healthy, but wolf carrion? It was probably diseased..[/u]" Her voice faded out as her eyes widened in utter astonishment. " Pyrethroat, this could be the source of all the sickness, and if what you've said about the stream is true, then we're not the only ones suffering.[/u]" She shut her emerald eyes quickly, pausing a moment as she took in a deep breath, and reopened her emerald lights. " How are we going to stop this? Prey drink from it, warriors drink from it, maybe even apprentices, queens, and kits![/u]" Flamingarrow struggled to keep the sense of panic welling up within her from boiling over, but it was hard to do, especially as she watched her clanmates struggle with the disease. She was watching her mentor, the only mother figure she had, and her leader die from it. " That damn wolf never left us. We should have never felt safe.[/u]" The female whispered angrily, sitting down for a moment to take in the others comments and reactions. Turning her head, she looked back to Jetfang, who was also suffering from the sickness, and she looked mortified as she turned back, wearily looking to Pyrethroat as if the calico held the answer to all of her questions.[/justify][/div][/td] [td][atrb=width,140]
tagged ,
lynx (pyre), dusk (gale), dawn (jet), minty (wraith)
tunes ,
bird song & cricket chirps
comments ,
osnap.
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Post by Dusk on Aug 4, 2011 21:05:44 GMT -5
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They were travelling far, far enough for a warrior's mind to wander even while they were moving at a rather fast pace. Not as fast as they could go, though, considering that the patrol had a sick tom to consider. Galefrost's gaze flicked from cat to cat, giving each feline a prompt cursory glance that would mean little to them if they caught a flash of aquamarine eyes on them. He doubted they'd even notice him watching anyways, the tom had been mute the entire patrol, practically noiseless with the exception of his light foot falls on the pine-needle covered ground. He never spoke much with any cat, even his brother receiving a dose of his taciturn treatment whenever he attempted to communicate with the gray-brown tabby in the camp. It was rare that he gave more than clipped replies to inquiries. But tonight was about to change, it seemed, as the tom dropped back to the back of the patrol where a sick black and white tom trailed.
"Is Lionpaw sick as well then, Jetfang?" Not hello. Not how are you doing? Because clearly the older warrior was anything but well. Sick with an illness that was taking the life of Vertigoclan's cherished leader; no the large warrior wasn't about to waste time asking stupid things. The thought of the she-cat apprentice had been gnawing quietly at the back of his mind since they'd left camp. He knew Lilythorn hadn't assigned him to a midnight patrol, else the warrior never would have retired to the warrior's den in the first place. Perhaps his recall was faulty, but the tom vaguely remembered the pale golden apprentice being listed for a border patrol with Pyrethroat and Jetfang on it as well. Galefrost had seen Jetfang and Lionpaw together in camp often enough to know they were close, even though there was no blood shared between them no a mentor-apprentice relationship to build upon. Maybe one had gotten the disease from the other, then again perhaps the she-cat simply had eaten a bad piece of prey and that's why he'd been chosen for the patrol instead. The possibilities weren't infinite, but they were still numerous. Why guess at the reason for her not being on the patrol when he could go the best source short of the cat herself?
The patrol had come to a stop, finally, they were on the transitional area of Vertigoclan where trees gave way to treacherous scree, and the bob-tailed calico had her chin lifted to look up the mountain of rubble. The stocky she-cat looked over her shoulders at them as she spoke, sarcasm lacing her tone. The tom let his gaze wander to the spot where the thin silver-washed line wound its way down the hill, face outwardly impassive even as the irony of the situation near made him laugh grimly. 'As if it wasn't enough for it to take two good warriors from us, the wolf continues to plague us all even in death.' Plague, it really was a plague that was infecting the cats of the camp then. And -if Pyrethroat's hunch was right (he couldn't see any reason for it to be wrong)- then there would soon be a potentially life-threatening disease across all the clans. The tom blinked as a torrent of anger and frustration flew from Flamingarrow. The fiery warrior had more or less said what there was to be said, even if she perhaps let the enormity of the situation overwhelm her far too easily. Pyrethroat hadn't reacted so; then again, she'd probably contemplated the possibilities before leading the patrol out and hardened herself to the situation. The dark-striped cat couldn't deny that he too felt a thrill of fear at the news, though he was able to set aside the emotion before it showed on his face or in body language. The tom stepped forward to catch the eye of the patrol leader, before speaking. "There's not much we can do now, the carcass would have already poisoned enough water to affect every clan." His deep voice was unnervingly calm as he spoke. 'Brilliant tom, just strengthening whatever idea other cats might have of your lack of sanity.' "D'you propose we remove the body before it poisons our water further?" He couldn't see what else they could do. Herbs had so far been useless in curing the sick cats, and the rot was already spreading to prey as well as cats more than likely.
notes: went the slightest bit overboard. |
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Post by LYNX ♥ on Aug 8, 2011 23:52:21 GMT -5
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PYRETHROAT  Her own mind was racing, like a storm cloud across a sweeping cerulean sky of velvet. Her thoughts never ceased their endless tumbling, crashing into one another and running circles round her brain. While her features remained strategically apathetic, beneath lay a riot of planning. By now, the wolf was rotten to the core. By touching it and trying to move it or even unearthing it or venturing into the stream to find it, these (mostly) healthy warriors risked their own wellbeing for a lost cause. No, the streams were already affected, and disturbing the carcass further probably wouldn't do a think but spread more rot and filth from its original resting place. "Well, the wolf has had his revenge. Funny joke, wolf." Her murmur was cast off into the mountain face, where the wind whipped it away. Bitter as sulfer, her deep tones resonated within the other cats' ears, but Pyrethroat hardly cared. For while this entire venture was one brimming of opportunity and self-gain, the calico couldn't help but wish her fortune had presented itself in a different manner - one that didn't potentially claim the faith and souls of many along the way.
She sighed and rested momentarily upon her haunches, taking subtle pleasure in the feeling of stone brushing against her bobbed tail. She pushed away the sensation and returned her focus to her clanmates, and the task at hand. A moment of tense silence lapsed between the gathered cats, but at last she spoke, but not before dipping her head in turn to captain obvious, and then to the handsome brown tabby. "I think it should be left alone. Touching it would only make us sick, and I don't think much is to be done to fix it now. Now we must deal with the consequences, warn the other clans, and search for a cure." Pyrethroat concluded with a soft sigh, blinking away the sudden exhaustion that tugged at her heart. There was a long, steep road ahead of her. Bu determination hardened her decision. No, this was the path she had to take. Leadership would soon be hers, and VertigoClan would be cheering her name. Pyrestar. What a lovely thing to be known as. The other clans wouldn't know what hit them.
Though there was naught but thick forest blocking her view, Pyrethroat's golden gaze drifted toward where TempestClan's fen lay, and her eyes narrowed sharply. She'd ravage them like a hurricane, and VertigoClan wouldn't have a thing to complain for. Her body raised off the ground once more, the warrior glanced over at Jetfang, his almost-feeble frame probably weary from the trek. "I say we head back." She looked at him, but her words were directed at the rest of the patrol, until she truly focused on the obsidian and white tom. "If any of you see Lilythorn, direct her toward Lynxstar's den would you?" She didn't bother to keep the suggestive tone from her voice. By now all of VertigoClan suspected something between the deputy and Jetfang, so surely he would find the ginger female first.
Pyrethroat's gaze shifted momentarily upon the distant stream once more before she resolved to push through her clanmates and trot back in the direction of camp once more. The heavy silence that the forest offered her would calm her nerves, and prepare her to visit her dying aunt. What would Lynxstar's reaction to the theory be? Of course it could be nothing but true, but Pyrethroat still thought perhaps she should keep her suggestion of sacking CelestialClan first to herself. The thought brought a watery smile to her face, but she pushed on wordlessly, assuming her clanmates would be on their way as well.
SORRY crappy post, but I think this thread can be wrapped up. none of you are into it and there's not much more to be said.[style= font-family: latha; font-size: 9px; color: ED8A74; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 3; text-align: center;]well they've got the land but we've got the view TEMPLATE BY BROOKE |
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