rain, please go away {Storm | Ripple}

[Dusk]

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[atrb=background, i339.photobucket.com/albums/n480/Shardclaw/orangebackground.jpg] It was drizzling again. Clouds overhead gray and alarmingly low, they were practically threatening to keel over with the weight of their loads it seemed. That wouldn't happen, of course. Only kits believed that a storm cloud could fall to the ground. Havocflare was certainly no kit. Still, the constant rain was slowly becoming a nuisance to all in the clan. "It can turn into a danger too... The tom thought as his sharp, golden gaze observed the dreary sky in all its monotone 'glory'. Rain was good to a point, especially when summer might bring drought. It was best that the prey roaming Zephyrclan territory fatten up on moisture rich grass while it was available. But too much water could also bring down chaos upon the clan cats. A dozen scenarios came easily to the ruffled tabby's mind. Flood, rotting plants leading to scrawnier prey, landslides, collapses of rabbit tunnels... The tom grimaced and shook his head. The motion served to shake free some of the moisture collecting on his nose and whiskers; it also helped him break free of the melancholy thoughts stewing in his mind. Where had the doom scenarios come from anyway? No good asking. They just crept up on the older warrior out of nowhere, set off by the most trivial things. Like the drizzle. There was nothing he could do about it. That the dark ideas had come along shouldn't have been surprising in the first place. Shouldn't have. They still were. The cat shifted slightly from his place beneath a wind-stunted tree, the best spot Havocflare could find in camp to shelter from the drizzle while not walking into the warrior's den. Great. Now he was restless. He looked around the camp, searching for... something to keep his mind busy. What his eyes found were the sun-high patrol, returning to camp with jaws full of prey in spite of the damp weather. Ripplesurf was doing well to manage the clan even in light of recent events. The warrior didn't envy the older tom his position, though; given deputyship far later than usual had more than its fair share of negatives. Other warriors might have faith in the over-sized tom, but Havocflare still heard the whispers muttered about his friend. How the position might be 'cursed'. The injustice of the murmurs infuriated the small cat. Ridiculous superstition. It was all well and good to obey Starclan, but to believe they'd be smitten simply due to one failure to comply will the guidelines of their ancestors was foolish. The frown was back on his maw, along with the inability to sit still for any length of time. The warrior sighed and stood, breathing deeply to cool his head. Maybe he just needed to walk for a bit, burn off some steam. Just get out of camp. It wasn't the brightest idea, of course, walking out for no apparent reason into a cold drizzle. Right now Havocflare didn't care. Fluffing up his tufty fur as best he could against the water, the male padded past the sentry with a small nod. The younger cat didn't question him, though the curiosity in her eyes was clear as she dipped her head wordlessly to the elder warrior. Walking felt good. It gave his muscles something to do with the energy that had risen out of nowhere. Still, the tabby didn't go far. He'd walked off with no particular direction in mind, only realizing as he skidded slightly on the rain-slicked grass that he was close to one of the little clusters of wind battered trees that studded the moors.

[Dawn]

* STORMTRICK

[/size][/font]
If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change


How rare it was to catch Stormtrick in a playful mood. You see, he really couldn't be that way around anyone but a select few. Runningfox really did need him to be like a parent, sometimes. The tom seemed to have a knack for trouble, practically sniffing it out at times. Being how great the difference between them was in age, he should have been more laid back with him; instead, it was completely the opposite. The young, flirtatious tom made him feel more senior, not more youthful. He didn't induce much mourning in Stormtrick that he had no sons of his own, for Runningfox had seemed quite the pawful as an apprentice, when he had required supervision. Now that he was on his own, well, he was even worse, it seemed. Just like his father, though, Stormtrick thought that he would figure it out in the end. As for Paintedstar, well, she was the leader, and he respected her for that and other things. She might have been younger then himself, but he wasn't going to be goofing around in front of someone of the highest ranking within his clan. Oh, the highest ranking though, not a higher ranking. He was far from becoming an elder, but was well respected, being a senior warrior. The newly chosen deputy, Ripplesurf, was his best friend; one of the two cats that he could relax around, the other being Havocflare.

And, with the striped cat in mind, there he was in front of him, not far ahead. Why he had decided to head out into the miserably wet grass Stormtrick couldn't at all imagine; sometimes, though, he had known his friend to do such things. Give me another 50 moons, Starclan, and perhaps I'll better understand my clanmates! That brought another thought to his mind. In all of his imaginings, he couldn't quite picture Ripplesurf leading the clan. The two had been friends since they were small, since Ripplesurf was as flirtatious as Runningfox and twice as charming. Now, out of the blue, the cat who had been his best friend since he was a hot headed apprentice was deputy. Ripplestar... I can't see it, I really can't. What kind of a leader will he be? He quickly retracted thoughts of the tom with his nine lives, though, as quickly as one might withdraw claws into their sockets. There had been too many leaders past in Zephyrclan, enough to get others muttering about curses. He didn't want Paintedstar, with her young wisdom and her lovely green eyes, to die anytime soon. The clan needed a strong leader that could show the other clans they weren't weak, or rabbit hearted. One that would make a name for Zephyrclan, the fastest clan in the forest, again; and that cat, he hoped, was Paintedstar.

As rain drummed Stormtrick's skull, thoughts of the clan were chased from his mind. His fur appeared black with moisture, blue eyes lit with an amused flame. He was crouched low to the ground, and luckily, with the droplets, his scent was well hidden. Physically, he was kept from sight by the tall, wavering grasses, stirred on occasion by a chilly wind. There was a clump of hard headed, sturdy trees growing up ahead, and they seemed a natural place for Havocflare to take shelter. Before the tom could get there, though, he stalked forward and leaped just as he would if pursuing a rabbit on the moorland. His claws were hidden as he batted at the other tabby with a light paw, jaws parted slightly in a grin that revealed fangs. It had been a while since there'd been time or opportunity to chat with either of his friends, and now seemed the perfect time. Steadying himself to stand beside the tom, just taller than him with his lanky frame, Stormtrick flicked a raindrop off of his whisker. "What are you doing out here in the rain, you mousebrain?" He meowed by way of greeting, a companionable purr rumbling in his throat.
[/blockquote]

[aero ❥]

{ R } IPPLESURF

His dark grey fur was saturated, the thick layers drenched and still absorbing the cold water falling from the swelling storm clouds that overshadowed the moorland. His massive pale paws trekked over the pooling, damp ground. Quick steps splashed too much rainwater, (Curse bloody monsoons!) so the brawny tom was forced to slow down. His new stride consisted of taking lighter steps, as if he was stalking the utmost sensitive hare. His long tail was low, though it didn't drag along behind him. It hovered just over the slick grass and mud, bouncing lightly with every motion. His head was down, face shadowed from the angle. It was a handsome mask he wore, dark grey base with a good facial structure - wintery blue eyes surrounded by a snowy white. The white ran down his jaw and onto his chest, seeping into his belly fur. His nose was a deep pink outlined in black, lengthy white whiskers spraying from his face. Naturally lucky he hadn't lost any of his attractiveness to age yet.

From his mouth hung a dead rabbit, big fluffy tail smeared with grime. He after last night, he wanted some serenity. Admitting it, questing for it on this drizzling, gloomy day wasn't so clever. His positivity hadn't been vexed though, so he made the best of it with a mediocre catch. Soggy rabbit, just what the medicine cat ordered! Oh, wait, Zephyrclan doesn't have a medicine cat. The realization was amusing in a way, but it dashed his mood. If he could he would work double time in this ominous hour, as both a medicine cat and the deputy, he would do it in a heartbeat. Too bad he knew so little about herbs.

You forgot to mention that to her last night too. Ugh, last night he wanted to be a bad dream. Paintedstar was losing faith and Ripplesurf could do nothing. Screwing up his expression, he refused to let his mind linger in such a dark place. Everything was going to be fine. In the end, no matter how it got there, things would turn out okay. Confident in this the deputy raised his head a mouse tail, scanning the near distance ahead. Two dark forms lingered, the downpour blurring any and all details. Scenting was out of the question. Coming closer, he recognized the two toms he would never get tired of seeing. Havocflare and Stormtrick. They had been his friends since...well a long time.

He was the eldest of the three, able to faintly recall the day of both their births. Or, at least he knew he was there. Anyway, he hadn't always favored Havoc, but the two had grown close through Stormtrick who he could consider a brother. They looked similar, and Ripplesurf sometimes wondered if indeed they were somehow distantly related. Stormtrick also had seemed to befriend his son Runningfox, which didn't feel as strange as it might sound. The senior tom appreciated it actually - it probably helped keep the youngster out of some trouble.

Thinking back to the present, Ripplesurf hurried towards the pair, coming up behind Stormtrick. The patter of the rain veiled any noise he might have made, covering him perfectly as he tossed his head to the side, clouting the smoky tom with the damp prey against the side of his head. Immediately finding his little joke hilarious, the deputy dropped the rabbit and crouched, roaring with laughter that was lost in the chilled wind. His wintery eyes teared, paw beating the ground as he struggled for breath. Nope, never lost his charm. Gaining some composure back he stood upright, colossal grin spread from one side of his face to the other. "Oh, uh, sorry." His sarcastic snicker led to another fit of chuckles before he finally calmed down.

"Havocflare." He addressed, nodding with a mischievous wink that said 'Got him good!'. The brawny trickster flexed, looking at Stormtrick for the first time now. "You fur balls are obviously soaking up this weather, hope I didn't interrupt anything..." The enjoyment he got out of his little jokes just grew and grew, stifled laughter on the brink of escape. He was on a roll today for sure. It felt good, letting some of the stress go.

[Dusk]

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[atrb=background, i339.photobucket.com/albums/n480/Shardclaw/orangebackground.jpg] The tom blinked against the tiny water droplets that persisted in flying into his face, even with golden eyes narrowed to slits the rain still found it way past his lids. Was the storm actually getting worse? Maybe it was just the small-ish cat's imagination, then again, maybe the drizzle was slowly developing into a full fledged downpour. How convenient that he'd stopped near a stand of trees. The tightly packed trunks wouldn't be the most comfortable to maneuver through, but the warrior knew he'd fit thanks to his standard Zephyrclan physique. Besides, the inter-weaved canopy would serve well as a shelter from the rain; it was better than trekking back to the camp. As it were, Havocflare wasn't sure he'd do well being cooped up in the warrior's den at that very moment. The tom shifted his weight to begin walking again, only to pause when an unnerving sensation of being watched made him stop and twist his head to look over his shoulder. In the gloom cast by the rain, he couldn't make out anything across the grasses grown tall with plenty of water. The tom blinked and rolled his eyes, the weather was just making him a bit nervous. Cats had gone missing, true. The names and faces of old friends still came easily even after moons of their being gone. He preferred not to dwell on the memories, but the idea of being caught alone out on the moor -possibly with whatever had made his clannmates go missing - sent a shiver down his spine. The now properly soaked tabby turned his focus back to the stand, and along came the slight noise of grass against a fur quickly followed by a light buffet on the warrior's shoulder. 'Attacker!' The thought rang out in his head too easily; his nerves were already on edge this day, after all. He jumped slightly, turning to face whatever enemy had wandered its way onto Zephyrclan land and at least go down fighting, only to find himself staring into the grinning face of one dusky furred old friend. There was a moment of blankness in his head as he stared at the slightly older warrior. Nothing came to mind for him to say, his tongue sat -mute- in his jaws. Out of nowhere, it seemed, a rabbit flew from the sheets of rain and smacked the dusky tom quite nicely in the head. And then a hearty laugh rang out across the terrain, and Havocflare's eyes shifted from from one old friend to another, this one a blue-gray, fluffy coated feline who seemed utterly disabled by the laughter roaring out from a fine set of lungs. The laughter and relief flooded the youngest of the trio then, and a smile broke out on his maw. It wasn't long before the spiky-furred warrior started laughing himself. The laughter felt... good. It just let him shed all the burdens that weighed recently on his mind. A small smirk played on the tom's face as he settled down more quickly than Ripplesurf, though a purr still rumbled deep in his throat. Finally he found his voice to respond to Stormtrick's earlier question. "I could ask the same of you, couldn't I?" he said dryly, a chuckle still managing to bubble its way up from his throat. "But you know, sometimes one just needs to go out and walk in the rain. Seems to be the latter part of your name suits you perfectly, Stormtrick." The tom continued airily, the joking tone in his voice obvious. "And as for you, Mr. Deputy, Havocflare purred while turning his attention to the larger and older tom, "Should you really be talking about soaking things up when your fur acts as the biggest sponge in the clan?" It was to hard to resist teasing the deputy. He gave a wry shake of his of his head as he thought about how convenient it was for his two oldest friends to come along at the same time, even with the poor weather. "You two plan this whole fiasco out?"

[Dawn]

* STORMTRICK

[/size][/font]
If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change


Stormtrick gave a yowl of surprise as something smacked wetly against the side of his head. It wasn't hard, but the feeling was unpleasant. It was the body of something sleek and well fed by the moorland grasses; a fat rabbit, caught by the deputy himself, who rolled on the grass laughing. Leave it to the new Zephyrclan deputy to be hunting even in this torrent of falling rain. The joke had surprised him so much that he too tumbled into the tall, wet grass, though not with laughter. His purr rumbled into a growl at the back of his throat as he rolled to his side and stood nearby Ripplesurf, Havocflare gazing at the two of them. Lowering his head to the largest of the three, the smoky gray-black tom butted his friend in the shoulder, bright blue gaze narrowed with irritated amusement. "Oh, this is great. It's you!" He said sarcastically, though he was actually quite glad to see his friend. Everything had been so serious lately, he had been so serious lately. Now, as he stared at the youngest of the three with twin blue flames, a grin on his maw, he felt himself take a deep breath. For the last few moons, it felt like had been barely breathing, holding his breath. The relief he felt now was overpowering, despite the rainwater weighing down on his back. It didn't matter the physical weight, because his friends had lifted the greatest weight from his shoulders, if only for now. It might return later, but this was the most important thing, that they could share their burdens, set them aside, as friends. I would consider them my brothers, more than anyone else. Truly, they might have felt that way too, if they hadn't been born moons apart. Though Ripplesurf had boasted that he saw both of them born, Stormtrick didn't recall much of their youngest friend, Havocflare's, birth. Only the excitement in the nursery. Who knew? He would have been excited too, if he knew that seasons later he would tell the tom called Havockit everything, would listen to any troubles the small tabby had.

"I have a very good reason to be out here, unlike you, wandering fish, and you, almighty deputy." He rolled his eyes at the last part, knowing there was no soreness between the three, who would all have been choices for deputy, that Ripplesurf had been chosen. It seemed right; he was the eldest of the trio. "See, I was stalking... a rabbit. But then, it turned out to be Havocflare, instead." His voice was quite even and logical, though the thought of mistaking the younger tom as a rabbit to be caught was amusing and a chuckle rumbled from his chest. Even in this rain, somehow Stormtrick thought he would know the shape of the tom from afar. And, with storms in mind, if we stay out much longer in this one we'll all grow scales! He checked out the clump of trees; they were close together, but there were enough of them, and he thought that perhaps they could all take some shelter there. None of them seemed to want to be back in camp, hiding through the storm, most particularly Havocflare, who had led them out here. He was feeling a trace of wanderlust himself, as he had in his younger moons. Still, he was content to sit and talk with his closest friends for as long as there was time.

Thunder roared overhead; it had been distant before, but now it crackled and howled, and streaks of lightning split the sky, seemingly broke open the largest gray clouds. A fresh wave of rain, harder and thicker than before, poured down on their heads, quickly drenching Stormtrick anew and not pausing. The storm was beautiful, but he was too miserably wet to stop to look at the sky, colored eerily. Some of our clanmates might see this as an omen from Starclan... He thought dismally, thinking of the way they had acted in camp, and around the new deputy. Tensions were high all around. The smoky gray tabby glanced toward the trees. "Ripplesurf might be able to soak all this water into his big head, but not me. Let's head for cover, before we drown!"


[/blockquote]

[aero ❥]

{ R } IPPLESURF

Ripplesurf flicked his ear dismissively to Havocflare. "Don't be jealous," He smirked, his fur feeling heavier as they brought attention to it's thickness. Long ago had he learned to live with it's pros and cons. If I hadn't, maybe I'd be a lot more like Sparktail! He thought, tail lashing. His playful energy felt like it might burst out of him, the compulsion to keep moving obvious as he swayed. The falling water was dropping his body temperature, and this time his chilled thick fur wasn't helping.

"Oh? A successful catch isn't a good reason?" He prodded the limp prey that was at his massive pale paws. The rainwater had soaked the creature, and it felt like the rabbit was ten pounds instead of three. What a joy it'll be to carry it. Attention back to the topic of conversation, he grinned at the near-drowned tabby. "Sounds like we should be calling you Havochare now, eh?" His whiskers twitched with unheard laughter, blue eyes alive with amusement. Ah, he loved joking with his friends. Ears swiveling towards Stormtrick, the similar tom nodded. "Aye, handsome big head at that!" He gripped the rabbit at the neck, picking it up taking more strength then he liked. Heavy bastard!

Blinking away the blurring rain, he spotted the cluster of trees. The snowy white outline around his wintery eyes looked extra pristine against the dark blueish grey canvas of his face, giving him a ghostly appearance. His actual size could be seen with more clarity since his sopping fur clung helplessly to his broad frame. Once he saw everyone was ready to move out, he briskly sloshed through the wet moor towards the dryer haven of the trees. His mind needed to be stimulated, or else the numbness of the storm would get to him. His thoughts reeled until caught on a gloomy topic. The clan I've been with all these fifty-two moons have doubts about me as their deputy. It was a sad affair, to see cats you thought trusted you turn at the sight of a late ceremony. He had done well since appointed, all the patrols had been on time and planned carefully; hunting had been easy with plenty of prey. Ripplesurf himself had been nothing but friendly and encouraging....What else do they want? The answer was simple. His clan-mates wanted reassurance. That he could not give them, and at the moment neither could Paintedstar.

Oh, Paintedstar. He didn't want to think of her problems, but in a way he had no choice - for now they were his too. Alright, alright, let loose. His head shook. You're with your two favorite cats in the forest, forget it for now. That was the power of friendship. It enabled you to forget no matter how short of a time it lasted. He could see the darker shade of the trees now, bases around the trunks looking dry enough for his liking. "This seems good!" He called, looking back only to be blasted by cold wind and whipping rain. "Ugh!" He jumped back, retreating under the leafy cover. "Damned weather." He spat, giving a quick shake to his pelt. A spraying wave of droplets showered everything around him, his wintery eyes apologetic. "Whoops."

[Dusk]

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[atrb=background, i339.photobucket.com/albums/n480/Shardclaw/orangebackground.jpg] The warrior grinned again as he watched the small exchange between the two older toms. The headbutt and the mock disdain, it was all in good fun. Literally, good fun. Everyone needed a break from all the dark and tense time and chaos in camp, and if what it took was a downpour to wash away all the grief -even just momentarily- Havocflare would more than happily get soaked to the bone. Three friends. A stormy afternoon. And pranks. A wild and mildly ridiculous story to be told for sure. Especially when the friends of the story were older and more "mature" warriors. Surely three toms each over forty-five moons were too old to be prancing about like some fresh made apprentices? Apparently not. "Jealous?" The tom gasped in a mock mortified tone, eyes widening in disbelief and jaws slightly apart. "Jealous of not having enough fluff on me to make a dozen nests of my own fur? I think not." His whiskers were twitching with a life of their own as the trio's exchange of not-so-witty banter continued. "And I believe I'll remain Havocflare, oh Giver-of-New-Names." He shouldn't be one to talk about giving new names when he seemed so full of joking titles for his companions. A chuckle still rattled in his throat as he eyed the sodden and now sorely beaten hare that the eldest of them had caught. Even with it's fur plastered now, the hare looked to be a sizable catch. The tom took a moment to crouch down next to it and let his gaze shift multiple times between himself and the catch, as if making a comparison. He paused before nodding sagely and looking back at Stormtrick. "You should get your eyes looked at. Even is this weather it's hard to mistake a cat for a rabbit." He prodded the rain-darkened tom gently. "I may be smaller than both of you, but I seem to lack one defining feature," he added lightly while waggling his ears as best he could. Cat ears didn't waggle well. Lightning flashed overhead to help light up the three cats and the surrounding terrain for a couple of seconds, accompanied almost immediately by the angry and wrathful booming of thunder. Well, the storm was definitely in full swing now. Havocflare dipped his chin in agreement as the proposal to head for cover was made, not bothering to make any additions to the extra jibe at Ripplesurf's heavy fur. He was glad Stormtrick hadn't suggested heading all the way back to camp, though the younger tom didn't voice the opinion. It was fairly dry beneath the cover of trees, only trickles making their way through the thickly twined canopy in comparison to the deluge outside of the leafy canopy. Trickles were fine; better than being pelted by wind driven droplets. The yellow-ochre eyed tom gave a happy stretch as he made his way under the protection from unforgiving elements. "Ahh, you never realize quite how soaked you are until you're starting to dry out," he grumbled quietly. A hiss slipped out from beneath his teeth as a fresh wave a droplets struck him, and the tom turned to look at the deputy. "'Whoops', indeed," he laughed while craning his neck to give his pelt a few brisk licks. "Seems our deputy has picked up some dog-like qualities, Stormtrick."

[Dawn]

* STORMTRICK

[/size][/font]
If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change


"Ha, my eyes? The sharpest in the clan!" He boasted, playfully thumping a paw over Havocflare's clearly feline ears. "It's just that you had your ears and tail down, that's all." Enjoying the joke, he stood and twitched his tail. As his friends seemed to agree with his suggestion, Stormtrick then turned and, with the wind at his back, headed for the trees. Ripplesurf took the lead, of course, responsibly checking it out for the younger two. He's always been such a bossy fur ball. He thought with warm exaggeration, only to laugh aloud as the deputy turned back and was attacked by the water, falling slanted, and blown by the wind. Thunder echoed his booming laugh and her hurried to reach cover just as his friends did, ducking into the interlaced trees. This was better than he expected; it was quite dry, because it was greenleaf and the leaves of the season were very thick overhead, catching the rain as it tried to fall on the three felines. He was just thinking these dry thoughts, washing water from his pelt, when Ripplesurf gave his frame a shake and hit his friends with the spray of water. Momentarily blinded, Stormtrick glared fiercely at his friend, blue eyes ablaze. "Oh, picked up, my tail!" He exclaimed mildly, giving himself a fresh shake. "He was born with those qualities, Havocflare! Didn't you ever meet his uncle?" He leaned close and said quietly into the smaller tom's ear something incomprehensible to the eldest. One thing was clear though, as he leaned away to laugh, that it had been something about the deputy sharing kin with dogs.

As the laughter died down, the three sat amicably together, and Stormtrick thought of how far they'd come. Once, it had been just himself and Ripplesurf. Yes, with Ripplepaw becoming a warrior before both of them, and not having enough opportunity to talk to his younger but close friend Stormpaw, the dark furred tabby had taken to Havocpaw. At the time, the small, lighter colored tabby had been just an apprentice, and though he was young, they were fast friends. Ripplesurf, their new deputy, might have been the leader, the oldest and largest, the one who watched out for them. Havocflare, the youngest and smallest, was the one who always thought ahead, especially right when more experienced warriors would want to bumble right into things. But for both of their attributes, with how special they were to him, Stormtrick was the link that held them all together. He was medium sized, was older than one and younger than the other, and would have done anything for his friends, his brothers. He was the one that had brought their trio together, when Ripplesurf had been less than friends with Havocflare. It was amazing now, how close they all were, as they looked back fondly on moons that had passed. Oh, but I miss you, Dawnpaw. Still, I wouldn't change a moment of it. He had made so many mistakes, they were too numerous to take back. He couldn't change the past, he just couldn't. It wasn't good, anyway, to focus on what he had done wrong, what he couldn't change. If it hadn't been for all the bad, he never would have met Havocflare and Ripplesurf, probably.

No one spoke now, Stormtrick himself focused on drying his soaked fur. They crouched in the dark, occasionally lit by the flash of white lightning through the branches, perhaps waiting for another to speak, to share a story. It seemed an apt time. What was there to say, though? Oh, so many things. It was just hard to choose one. He cleared his throat, crystal lights glinting in the dim light. "Runningfox has his own apprentice now..." He murmured, and a deep sigh that was slightly contented escaped his maw. "When a cat you saw born is already a full grown warrior with an apprentice of his own, it really makes you realize how old you are."


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[aero ❥]

{ R } IPPLESURF

His freshly shaken grey fur was damp and fluffed out, much like a blanket hung to dry. He settled down among the dead leaves, occasionally feeling a droplet of rain meet his back and head. One plummeted from the dense canopy onto his muzzle and he shivered at the chill it sent down his spine. To the deputy it was unclear what Stormtrick was babbling about in Havocflare's (Havochare's) ear, but no doubt it was some smart joke they would remember at a later date and snicker about. He silently turned his sharp blue gaze from them and looked out from under the low branches that sheltered the trio. The senior's wintery eyes strained to see out into the dark storming moor, thin black pupils dilating as flashes sparked in the blustering heavens. What caused lightning? They were jagged streaks of plasma, light, energy, electricity. He didn't understand those concepts or vocabulary, and certainly would never because his intelligence simply didn't extend that far. No felines' did. So to him it would always just be an act of nature that just was.

Looking around at the faces he had come to love in a family fashion, he thought back over the moons, the years. The time when his jealousy kept him up at night as he adjusted to the warriors den. Those nights were hard, not having the comfort of his best friend who was still an apprentice. Then worrying about him favoring some new apprentice, leaving their friendship for another that was easier to maintain. Oh, he had felt ridiculous being jealous of some insignificant Havocpaw. What kind of name was that anyway? But he had busied himself with flirting relentlessly with the she-cats that were curious about him and his new found warrior-hood. In the end of course he recognized Havocflare (Havochare) as a decent and bright young tom he could learn to like. Of course with the three as warriors he reestablished his closeness with Stormtrick, which made befriending the younger tabby immeasurably easier.

His distant trained stare was drilled into the earth beside his paws, only redirecting when his "brother" cleared his throat. "Runningfox has his own apprentice now..."

"When a cat you saw born is already a full grown warrior with an apprentice of his own, it really makes you realize how old you are."

Ripplesurf's sharp gaze softened, and his own sigh of contempt exited his open jaws. It was true, and thinking about it that way made him remember back. It seemed not twenty-six moons but maybe ten that his kits had been born, though it seems life a lifetime ago their mother had passed in the violent manner she had. He honestly wouldn't know much about their kit hood and could remember just as much about their apprenticeship. What had he done instead of concerning himself with his own blood he wasn't sure, that time frame was a blur. In truth a rather unhappy down slide in his life. But he had struggled back to reality and prioritized the things in his life, and this is how it had turned out. "An experience I didn't know if I'd live to witness, earnestly speaking." Had he ever really planned on having a family, and hadn't really expected to live this long, the way he had been going. It felt good to be able to say he had.

"Hopefully he does well with Dunepaw." An uncertain tone in his deep voice was all too audible, and he felt bad for doubting his son. He had reason to doubt of course, but all the same it was unfair to the orange tabby. Considering this, he shifted his position to get more comfortable, a stray droplet plopping onto his head. The sudden cold made his ears flick, his massive paws shuffling with a grumble.

[Dusk]

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[atrb=background, i339.photobucket.com/albums/n480/Shardclaw/orangebackground.jpg] The small tom gave an ear-to-ear grin as Stormtrick leaned over confidentially to whisper in his ear, murmuring nonsense, but nonsense he couldn't help but enjoy slightly at the expense of his behemoth friend. It was all in good fun, he trusted that the oldest tom knew that and took no real offense to the light-hearted jibes of the two younger cats. It was akin to the eldest of three brothers tolerating the antics of the two mischievous twins - although Stormtrick and Havocflare clearly weren't twins, they were anything but. The comparison still made sense in the warrior's mind. After all, their lack of relation through blood never stopped the trio from becoming extremely close (even if they'd at first gone through some ups and downs). In fact, surviving those petty arguments and strain before meeting on middle ground had served to make their friendship that much stronger in the end. It proved that each of them could have their own opinion -even if said opinion strongly opposed the other's- and not be driven apart by their differences. Havocflare (the spiky-furred tom wondered if Ripplesurf was still thinking of him as Havochare) knew he'd been particularly lucky to find such friends in the clan. Considering how some of the clan reacted to outsiders, it would have been extremely easy for the tom to end up as nothing more than "that tom dropped on us by a loner". True, he'd been assisted by the fact that he was a only a kit of two or three moons, but blood-line reputation could easily precede even the most loyal and hard-working of cats. 'Why in the world are you lingering on the past, you old fool?' The tabby gave a small roll of his eyes and covered it up by shifting his head to look at the canopy, leaves glistening with their burden of raindrops. Practically no one in the clan could even recall that he wasn't clan-blooded. The elder's of course, knew; Breezestep had never minded all that much and as for Sparktail... well the dark tabby enjoyed complaining about everything; he'd been like that as a warrior too. Solacestone might, but he saw little to nothing of the old warrior recently. The poor tom was sickening, though maybe it was old age catching up to him; not all cats were lucky enough to live to a ripe seventy moons or more. Even Paintedstar might have no knowledge of Havocflare's lineage, as he'd already been in his last moon or so of training when Paintedkit and Cherrykit were born. Of course he couldn't say for sure that Starclan hadn't revealed that information to the piebald leader. Golden eyes blinked as the tom realized they'd all been crouched in silence for quite some time, each lost in their own thoughts while looking out at the storm or the trees or the plains. A white chin fell as the tom brought his gaze down from the overhead trees to look once more at his companions. What were they thinking, some part of his mind wondered vaguely as he watched them in silence. Jaws parted to speak, and then closed again; he'd never been the sort to start a conversation and it seemed that wasn't to change any time soon. Luckily it seemed that Stormtrick had no such problems. A small smile rose to his face at the mention of Runningfox. He'd never been particularly close to the pale warrior, ironic when he was so like his father back in the day. He wasn't as gifted as his dusky friend, though, at bridging the gap developed between ages; he respected the young tom... to a point. Perhaps he could afford to mature a bit more, but there was an endless pool of capability in the warrior just waiting to be tapped. A chuckle rose from his throat, eyes flashing with a wistful light. "Huh, old age does love to creep up on you out of nowhere doesn't it?" His gaze shifted to meet a wintry blue set as a realization struck, though not as potent as he'd expected the thought to be. "Indeed, you're the only one of us to have any children, his voice was quiet, "ironically enough." The worry of carrying on his blood-line had never risen to the tom's mind, and even now he didn't find himself bothered with the notion. The tom cared more for his long-furred companion as he voiced his worries. He tilted his head downward, eyes earnest as he spoke. "I'm sure Runningfox will handle Dunepaw just fine; hopefully he'll learn patience in training him." Dunepaw would be easier to handle than some others considering how disinclined he was to arguments and fighting, plus he already had a bit of training to help nudge the process along. Havocflare couldn't see any trouble forming between the two cats.

[Dawn]

* STORMTRICK

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If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change


It had begun to grow unseeably dark, the time of night aided by the harshly falling shower. Flashes of light illuminated the darkness in pale blue and hot white, allowing the three to see each other at these intervals and from under the cover with their keen feline eyesight. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds, but it was easy to ignore what might have been taken as a bad omen. Nothing was bad about this night; it was one of the few good ones in a handful of hectic, often heartbreaking routines, days passing in which things had been discussed and clanmates had vanished. The dusk colored feline knew that it had been an unsettling past few moons, and that the gathering would be filled with uneasiness and news from Zephyrclan and all the other clans. Still, he didn't think about this now. In fact, a warm glow lit his pale cerulean eyes as he gazed at the two across from him. As Ripplesurf spoke, he felt a burst of warmth for the brotherly tom, and for his kits. Each cat there had had a long life, filled with ups and downs; Stormtrick had been slightly angry with the deputy, for how he had behaved when his kits were born most entirely by accident. He knew that even now, some of them had some questionable feelings for their respectable sire.That was how he had become like a father or mentor to Runningfox, whose personality most mirrored his father's. That was how he had cemented a bond with his two best friends, in those dark days before everything for himself, too, had fallen apart. A sad smile filled his expression, a past light dimly flickered in his eyes. Old age did creep up, as Havocflare said. He wondered, how many moons had it been...? "I'm certain he will turn out fine with time." He rumbled, distantly thinking of another before he pictured the young warrior. "After all, you did." He reminded the tom without arrogance, a purr in his throat.

As Havocflare appeared ready to share his opinions again, the quietest of the friends, the darker tom turned to gaze at him. It was almost impossible to remember his rogue origins, to think that he hadn't been born only a few moons after him in the clan, a brother separated by very little time. He thought, from time to time, about the arrival of Havockit and how they had been brought together. The friends were anything but stingy old cats, unwilling to bend or change tradition, as a whole. They were together because they were young and willing to pretend they had time to run about like new warriors. They were so powerful because they could bend with ideas, and even if their opinions didn't all match, they were never divided against each other. As Havocflare spoke, voicing that the deputy had been the only one to have kits, he was slightly stung, as though bitten by a raindrop falling through the branches. It must get lonely, not to have a family to recall, or a new one to surround you. He thought of the brown tabby, a pang of sympathy piercing him as well. Ripplesurf had a large family, and it didn't matter much that neither he nor his friend had much surviving kin, because they were really part of the winter furred tom's family.

Catching the eye of the tom who had last spoke, and then sharing a meaningful look with the largest of the three, Stormtrick thought more about not having any kits. He was certain a Zephyrclan female would never wish to bear his kits, and though he remained still handsome, with a dark, attractive pelt, he was growing older every day. "Yes," Reluctantly he agreed with the statement, "He was the only one to have kits, but then none of us have ever managed to keep a mate."
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[aero ❥]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://i52.tinypic.com/otj5sn.jpg); width: 390px; height: 450px; -moz-border-radius: 40px 0px 40px 0px; border-radius:40px 0px 40px 0px; opacity: 0.8; border-right: #7298ac 15px solid; border-left: #7298ac 15px solid;] ripplesurf, The talk of family was a rather foreign topic, he couldn't remember many times the three had used it in a typical conversation. But, as Stormtrick had brought to the trios attention, old age was dawning on them. More so for the dark blue/grey deputy. With time he could only assume talk of their origins, family, and future would come more frequently. It brought certain things to his attention; the realization that his friends' birth blood would perhaps die with them or shortly after, that he did in fact have a rather large family, and that he was lucky for that fact. By birth blood he had meant their true kin, having a separate term for those cats because he considered the two toms as much his brothers as Dustedhawk was. "I'm certain he will turn out fine with time." A gentle pause. "After all, you did." The senior tom felt like grunting, or chuckling, or giving a small smile - but he couldn't bring himself to react in any such way. Maybe only he knew how hard it was to of turned out with a happy ending, or maybe his friends had observed enough of his struggles to relate. Either way, he wanted no such path for his son. Even with all the confidence the three elder cats had for the frisky young warrior, was it enough? As Havocflare (Ripplesurf had finally let go of Havochare.) spoke, his wintery eyes hardened ever so slightly. "Indeed, you're the only one of us to have any children," The tabby's voice was quiet. "ironically enough." Had he forgotten? Or had he never been told? Ripplesurf dared not let his blue eyes wander to Stormtrick, though it was tempting when the stormy tom also spoke on this matter. "Yes," Literally, to retrain from looking he turned slightly away. "He was the only one to have kits, but then none of us have ever managed to keep a mate." Not only were they on the brink of the unspoken, but unpleasant memories flashed through his mind of his dead kit-mother. (He did not refer to her as a mate.) The moment of her death sometimes came to haunt him, her choking words forcing their way into his ears like she was speaking them for the first time. Those hateful, horrible yellow eyes... He was forced to see them every time he looked at Runningfox, though the tom's were bright and warm, the intense color was enough to send shivers down his spine. Swiftrose. He regretted not his actions with her, only because he had gotten three of the most important things in his life out of them. But, the large deputy was being selfish. Thinking only of himself. How might Havocflare feel, or Stormtrick? He is so brave, living with it. Stronger than I could ever be. His respect for the similar tom was boundless, and forever the dusky grey tom would have his loyalty. As would Havocflare - though for different reasons. His thoughts backpedaled to none of them keeping a mate, and that reminded him of his brother Dustedhawk, who's lovely mate also died. Such a shame, both brothers sharing the same tragedy. (Though one had taken it worse than the other.) That brought his nephew Whitegale to his mind, the tom younger than his own kits though just a promising. The white tom had a level head and good physical attributes, overall pleasant and personable. Sometimes he wished Runningfox would learn a few things from his cousin. The mood seemed a bit tense, so Ripplesurf took it upon himself to lighten it. "I would have loved to see Havocflare's offspring," A mischievous tone alerted a new joke was on the rise. "What would you of named them? A good warrior name - Jackrabbit. What do you think?" His grin was humorous, spread across his handsome face. "That's just nonsense," He thought for a moment, as he always did before speaking. "I'm sure they would be great kits, just like their father." Shifting position, he licked a big pale paw. "It isn't too late you know...for either of you." For Ripplesurf, he was just moons away from being too old to father. But his friends still had a little time. "Zephyrclan hasn't been milling with she-cats lately, but I'm sure there are one or two who wouldn't mind fine toms like yourselves." Was he really trying to convince them to find mates? Yes, yes he was.

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made by hay shay @ caution!

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[Dusk]

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[atrb=background, i339.photobucket.com/albums/n480/Shardclaw/orangebackground.jpg] 'Bah! Leave it to me to choose the hardest topic to speak of.' The tom's muzzle pulled downward in an uneasy frown as he watched his two companions sag slightly under the weight of their own melancholy thoughts. It had just been an observation which, in a rare moment of thoughtlessness, the warrior had noted aloud. At any other time, he might have kept his jaws good and shut; apparently not this stormy night, though. No, this night, in the company of friends and full of relief of having gotten over his initial restiveness in the camp, he'd been careless and his tongue had been freed of its typical control. It wouldn't happen again, but the dark tabby's regret did nothing to withdraw words already spoken. Stormtrick seemed especially unhappy with the words, the younger warrior could tell; though he finally did give his reluctant assent to the assessment, there was still something hesitant in the tom's tone. Golden eyes narrowed slightly in confusion as he watched the exchange of glances between the two older warriors, some unspoken language was shared that the tom simply didn't understand. Havocflare knew that the two older cats were slightly closer to each other than they were to him, although it was a narrow margin. There were some things which the two hadn't shared with him, but that was to be expected.After all, Ripplesurf and Stormtrick had become friends before the spike-furred tom had come along to make the duo a trio, and the original old ties were likely hard to break; the tom wasn't too surprised if there was some secret which had remained unspoken to himself. It wasn't that he minded being left out, but the tom felt a nagging curiosity all the same which he wrestled with to shove back down into the depths of his mind. He tried to distract himself, settling his mind on his dusky companion's words. ...but then none of us have ever managed to keep a mate. The words brought a pained grimace to his face, though he was quick to recompose his features. Being the last in his line didn't bring any thrill of fear or disappointment, but couldn't deny that simply having a mate would be pleasant. He'd never gone after the hearts of any of the she-cats in Zephyrclan, though, and he doubted that any would find him appealing now. With a blink he realized the deputy was speaking again, and retreated from his dark thoughts to give the other warrior his attention. The tom was speaking with a sly note underlying his words. 'Good Starclan, here comes another joke at our expense.' A half-smile appeared at the fond thought. "I can't see any queen calling their kit Jack-kit," he replied dryly, taking the jibe with ease. "Or are you expecting our good leader to take to changing warrior names at the last second?" His pale golden orbs widened slightly as Ripplesurf continued on, now speaking seriously. "Starting up your own mate pairing service?" The tabby couldn't help but smile, though he truly grateful for the ex-player not wanting his two old friends ending up alone in the clan as the elders with no kin at all wandering through the clan's ranks. Assuming, of course, that any of them even made it to be elders. Havocflare didn't plan on retiring from his duties as long as his paws were willing to carry him across the territory. Perhaps that would change, though, with kin to look out for and a wish to survive long enough to see his with kits of their own. He couldn't be sure though, and probably would never get the chance to know; although the large, blue-gray tom seemed to be quite earnestly speaking when he talked of the younger two of the three finding caring she-cats of their own. The small tom turned his head slightly to see Stromtrick's reaction to the words. Unable to shake off wonder at what thoughts might be winding their way through the smoky-coloured tom's head.

[Dawn]

* STORMTRICK

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If I could I relive those days
I know the one thing that would never change


The mood under the cluster of trees had darkened with the mention of kits and mates. For Havocflare, because he hadn't a mate or kits. For Ripplesurf, because he hadn't a mate, but had kits. For Stormtrick, because of reasons unknown. Of the entire clan, only the deputy knew, and this was a dangerous thing anyway. Certainly, the tom was his best friend, but also, he was in a position where he had to put the clan first over age old relationships and histories unshared. The only reason the seasoned tabby knew was because he had stumbled upon the information, had caught Stormtrick as a young, stupid warrior who didn't know what to do with himself. Such a past shared between the two could only bring them closer as brothers and yet tear them apart as well. Havocflare, though he was no farther away from Stormtrick's weathered heart than the deputy, did not know because he had never guessed at it, and so the storm colored tabby just couldn't bring himself to tell. Weighed by this darkness, he found himself unable to speak as they all drifted into silence. Luckily, Ripplesurf now took it as his job to help them all remember that they had come here to loosen up and feel better, not dwell on the past.

Jackrabbit. He managed to crack a smile at that, knowing the youngest tom had never minded when the two bigger warriors made jokes about his size. At the mention of finding mates, he blew out a small sigh. No, a female hadn't drawn his eye in many moons. Certainly he had his passing affections, but he had accepted that he was growing old, and though Stormtrick was willing to let love happen, that didn't mean he was waiting for it to come, or ready to seize it when he saw it heading in his direction. He was just happy to have friendship, and to be respected. That was really all that mattered anymore, wasn't it? Even if he doesn't realize it, Ripplesurf is lucky to have kits. Still, he liked to watch out for the young cats no matter what, and so it didn't matter that he had no offspring to look out for.

As everything seemed to lighten out again, he realized gravely that he hadn't yet spoken. The drizzle pelted warrior didn't want the others to feel as though they'd put him in a bad mood (they'd known him all his life, and boy had they seen some of his rare temper) so he placed an easy smile on his maw and settled back down, muscles untensing as the other two talked. "Perhaps with some of your charming, you could get her to name it Jackkit. Or, if nothing else, Harekit would be acceptable. Don't you think, Ripplesurf?" It was interesting to picture his friend's litter. He laughed genuinely, at last catching the new mood, at Havocflare's comment about a pairing service. "It's not a half bad idea." He purred agreeably.

OOC. short I know, my Stormy muse is winding down. D:








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