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Post by aero ❥ on Jul 29, 2011 12:28:43 GMT -5
{ L } ONGSHADOW
A sliver of moon was glowing against the obsidian canvas, like a crack in the sky and the light from Starclan was shining through. Starclan. The ancient cats did not walk here in this fen with him tonight, no, they had never guided any step he had taken. Once he had been perplexed by this, but now he simply didn't care. He didn't need their 'protection' or frankly any other indulgence they could provide. So many cats lived without even the knowledge a higher power existed - and they never had a consequence. Maybe their ignorance shielded them from that, but rogues and loners knew of cats in the stars and were never punished for their lack of worship. Maybe it was just clan born cats that were held liable for their actions, or 'sins'. Why did the dead have such an intent binding with the living anyway? Go enjoy yourself with endless good hunting and perpetual peace - don't interfere with those below you that are trying to scrap out a fair living. Starclan was more trouble then they were worth, in his clover green eyes.
Hidden in plain sight, the lanky tomcat was crouched under the cover of the fen's tall golden grass, which happened to look more silver in the dim light than gold. His short, pure black fur blended perfectly with the deep shadows he waited in, making him very literally invisible. At night all the overgrown foliage cast endless amounts of shadows and blocked out the moonlight, so here in this damp earthed territory he might as well be nonexistent. A quiet trickle of water told the story of a thin stream that winded through the wet terrain, emptying out into the lake that lapped longingly at the shore. Longshadow stood and padded silently to the shaded creek, muddy earth filling in between his toes as he walked. His long legs worked similarly to stilts, and his lengthy tail curled so it wouldn't touch the grotesque landscape. Bending his neck (which was also longer than average.) he lapped at the swift trickle, relishing the cool gift it gave his mouth.
It a was a humid night, and so far a humid summer. With the spring rain still drizzling occasionally in the heat of green-leaf it made an uncomfortable moisture that clung in the air and stuck in your lungs. Breathing was a labor, and the extreme humidity prevented pores from releasing sweat to help lower body temperature. Satisfied with his intake of precious clear liquid, the black tom stretched, arching his back to rid it of any stiffness. The thought of returning to camp crossed his delusive mind, but he instantly shook it away. If he went back he would have to leap into that hollow tree and curl up in his cold nest, her scent wreathing around him. The closeness would be too much. Only a few cats away would be the attractive silver Bengal, her blue eyes ever watchful and probably only pretending to be closed with sleep as she lay with her tail gently draped over her nose.
His idiosyncratic fascination with her was only growing stronger, though it contained no sexual attractions. He observed her diligently and memorized everything there was to know about her. The sway of her hips as she padded quickly to address another clan-mate, the pattern of her fur and the way it seemed to enhance at night. How her soft eyes glimmered and capered when she laughed, her complex and intricate personality that never bored him. She was like him in some ways, though she would rather kill than admit it. (He was sure of this.) They both could be utterly serious and statue like, uncaring and unmoved by the most desperate sob story. They were both intelligent and had ambition. Other small traits concreted the fact that they indeed shared some parts of personality. Of course, they were contrasting on other levels, sometimes heavily, but it just infatuated the quirky warrior more. The deputy was like a puzzle to him, a 12-sided Rubik's Cube that seemed impossible to solve. But it was the challenge of it that kept him coming back.
If Dreamfeather was just another loyal, fierce she-cat that did her duties and never stepped out of line there was a good chance Longshadow might hate her. Obviously she wasn't. So his queer attachment to her would last, and honestly he didn't know how long it would stay. Peculiarly enough he in a way did hate her. He loathed the captivation she had on him, so much he felt as if he would be better off jumping in the lake and letting himself drown. (No one would miss him.) He also was frustrated by her lack of interest in him. Her avoiding him at every turn didn't make studying her an easy task. In fact, it was a chore that he felt he had to preform against his will. His mind simply wouldn't let him function without her somewhere idling in his thoughts.
Shaking his head, he started following the stream, not really worrying about where he was going or what direction he wandered in. A few times he miss-stepped and his paw bathed in the swift water. Others he purposely splashed in the thin creek for the hell of it. The whisper of the dense plant life around him told him there was a breeze, but the walls of thick grasses and undergrowth around him was like a barrier that held back the air currents. It annoyed him a little, since the humidity threatened to choke him at any moment. Typically he would venture to the grove when he needed to be alone, but ghosts of past times there haunted him, reminded him of old thoughts. So tonight he had taken to the fen. No doubt it was an odd territory, dangerous even, but his safety wasn't his first concern.
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Post by Dawn on Jul 30, 2011 18:44:05 GMT -5
* DREAMFEATHER
[/size][/font] I've already made up my mind | No matter what, I can't be bought or sold
If there was one cat with insomnia in the clan with the strength of tigers, then there were two cats that strolled through the night, as though possessed to do so by demons. And it did feel this way, as though the bengal's soul had been claimed by the moon, to sit and stare until her vivacious blue eyes took on the silver coloring, mirrored her fur, and perhaps fell away. Dreamfeather's soul, though, was cracked. Lately she didn't know what she did or didn't want; she was in a state of dense confusion, like a walking star warrior, going through the motions but remaining somewhere else. I would be that way, she thought faintly, if Starclan chose to walk among us, anyway. But they didn't. She didn't go out for all of that about them guiding the clan cats, no matter how much she dreamed of her beloved little brother, Blazepaw, when she did manage to get sleep. Surely, if Starclan was responsible for dreams of the tom she wished to see most, which could really have been just wishful thinking, a placebo, then were they also responsible for the more dark nightmares that lurked in her thoughts? It seemed she couldn't close her eyes without some dead relative crawling out of a shady corner. When she did sleep easy, and perhaps wake with even a bit of a friendly mood, cats noticed. Splashpaw might greet her (though lately, she hadn't gotten any sleep, which was fine because she was punishing her little cousin) and note how much more lively she seemed, and comment, "Dreamfeather, no nightmares?" It was well known about the clan that she liked to wander at night, or sit up guarding. So much so that the cats on guard had simply nodded to her as she left, not bothering to ask her business. She would have liked to step in for them, but tonight she was restless, and craved a stroll in the woods, if not a romp.
Dreamfeather pushed the bad stuff from her mind as she always did, of course, but no matter how hard she pushed and let her mind wander, one thing continuously floated to the surface. Yes, this topic, no matter the circumstances, was unusually buoyant in the frigid pool of her mind. Presently, as she slipped through darkness, she was thinking of him. Too busy with the everyday to acknowledge what went on in Longshadow's mind, she pretended not to notice when she did catch him staring. But lately it was just too tempting not to catch herself thinking of him, when she was plodding along on border patrol, when she was hunting that succulent sparrow, when she was stalking shadows, like she was now. It was also there, the thought that Voidstar would reprimand her for having such thoughts. He didn't seem to mind her being out at night, because she was always up for leading dawn patrol, generally insisted on it, even after a night without rest. At first, others had feared for her health, when this happened; but after a while of her being deputy, they had relented and given up. As it was, though, things weren't perfect for her. Even the bengal could see that she rested at an odd angle in the clan. She couldn't deny her attraction to Voidstar; well, she couldn't deny herself, but she would calmly and coldly let others know her disinterest. It wasn't a big deal, either, because for one, they could never be together, and for another thing, he was courting Flareheart, she could see that. And then there was the issue that Voidstar's brother, Blackshard, was... well, she wouldn't call it courting. She knew a rat when she saw one, and that tom was up to something. But in any case, he was getting too close for comfort, and she wanted out from between the two brothers. So instead of sleeping soundly in a den shared with allies, she was unknowingly padding after the tom who was on her mind this very second; Longshadow.
Saffron grasses brushed at her flank amiably, and persuaded her to stop her wandering, letting her body lead her rather than her heart and mind. The grass was rough, but the growth below the tall golden stems was softer, and so with a deep breath Dreamfeather flopped down to indulge in her thoughts. Rather than thinking of troubles like usual, she was haunted oddly by the night sky above. It reminded her of his glossy black pelt, besides the pin pricks of white flame. She could, of course, be thinking of any of the three toms that were most often in her thoughts, but she was indulging, wasn't she? And that meant it was Longshadow in her thoughts, whose eyes she was reminded of by the green hue just visible in the mountains. Blackshard seemed to understand her, and he was no doubt charming, where as Voidstar held appeal, being something she could never have; but he was just so unearthly, the looks of Longshadow gave her a supernatural feeling. She would never go chasing after him, but it was nice to imagine what it would be like if she wasn't deputy. Would she want to take a mate then? Normally she didn't even daydream about such things, about toms. Her life was the clan, and she was most faithful to that, more faithful than to any lover she might choose to take. Still,,, the idea held a certain kind of appeal to a beautiful silver female that was in a position of power and unallowed to take a mate, or at least to have kits. After all, she was just at her prime now, more than old enough to be a leader, and she would grow old too, her soft sleek pelt becoming rougher, her eyes becoming duller. Shouldn't she enjoy her youth while she possessed it? I'm beginning to feel like an elder!
OOC. I just thought since he was probably far ahead, that he might loop around somehow, just following the stream, and maybe stumble upon her quite by accident? xD
TAGGED. Longshadow only. (:
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Post by aero ❥ on Jul 30, 2011 21:06:56 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] take the blindfold off wandering in the dead of night knowing every minute is a lie
His long legs walked on, following the stream that seemed as endless as this fen - the thought made him wonder briefly back to Starclan. No, not to Starclan. A place better. A place with no horizon, no visible limits. It just went on and on in an indefinite amount. In this place was no law or judge, no one to set a standard and then raise it. Just you and yourself. The idea was lonely, yes, he couldn't argue. To be in perpetual existence without at least one other soul to remind you that you still could feel. But he was used to not feeling. The place in his heart where he cared about such emotions had been vacant most of his life, therefore growing considerably numb as he aged. Searching out that place inside him now, his fluent steps stuttered, jerking him to a quick stop. He stood bewildered, clover eyes wide in confusion. What? The place in his heart was no longer empty, but he dared not realize further what rested there now. No, it couldn't be. He would not. Could not.
Picking up a quicker pace, he focused more on where his paws were going then what was floating in his open mind. He breathed in the humid air, the choking sensation it brought to his lungs painful. But it was a good pain. It cleared his head and made him relax a little. Continuing on, he groped for a sense of direction. Where had this swift trickle taken him? Dropping his jaw to let in the nighttime scents, he tasted the hot air. Faint tinges of cat, and the strong but stale odor of water vole (All too common in this damp territory.) once again pungent. "I've circled around?" His lengthy tail flicked, ears swiveling to listen. How strange. Vaguely he recalled a fork in the stream, unconsciously he must have picked the wrong turn that branched off to flow back here. Was that all his life was, one big circle? It seemed that way.
His mind went back to it's previous meditation. Once again her Bengal pelt crossed his mental vision, and he was lost repeatedly in her interesting persona. His recollection of her was so vivid, he could smell her scent as it wafted around him, comforting his buzzed psyche. As he padded on, he couldn't help but notice the scent growing stronger. It was as if- What was that? He darted to the cover of deep shadows, blending in perfectly with his black pelt. His green lights flashed, looking upstream for what had alerted him. If anyone found him, what would happen? He was allowed to wander whenever he pleased, so why was he hiding now? Was it instinct - the element of surprise - or something more? What had he started thinking only moments ago...
Dreamfeather.
He felt like hitting his head against a tree. Why does she have so much control over me? The question branded itself into his mind as he stealthily crept through the deep pools of shadow that rested beside the stream. She was walking, from his view like she was in serious thought. What is she thinking of? It could have been anything, from tomorrow's patrols to what she had eaten. With the pretty she-cat you couldn't precisely guess; she always had the same mask on her face that blurred everything together.
They were on opposite banks, him gazing longingly over. It was much the same way in reality. She was across a distance he could never quite touch, and all he could do was observe. I don't want to observe any longer. He wanted to experience. To satisfy this craving for contact that wouldn't die. His clover eyes hardened, still cold but unnaturally sharp on this summer night. It was an odd phenomena, him slowly emerging from the pool of shadows. He looked much like a shadow himself, so his mysterious appearance seemed unannounced completely. She was a few strides ahead, though she could most likely still see him from her peripheral vision. What was supposed to happen now? He was reluctant to call out to her, (Though he wanted to say her name exceedingly so.) his hate for her screaming at him to just melt back into the shade and escape while he could. Physically, that was possible. Mentally, not so much. Watching her sleek silver pelt reflect the moon's dim glow dazzled him, her aura attracted him and the possibility of talking to her held him to the muddy earth.
He had so many theories about her and questions, maybe an awkward conversation could shed light on unlikely answers. If she noticed him, she had no real choice but to confront him. She was deputy, and couldn't act to blatantly rude to a clan-mate. So the queerly tall tom stood like a waiting statue, hoping for contact with cause of his fascination.
but you still keep wanting more tags: dreamfeather word count: 818 notes: I genuinely hate this post. I'll do better next time. DDD:
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Post by Dawn on Jul 30, 2011 22:12:35 GMT -5
* DREAMFEATHER
[/size][/font] I've already made up my mind | No matter what, I can't be bought or sold
Her 'flop' hadn't lasted long, for she was quite disturbed with energy, and felt unsettled. No sooner had she begun to think about him, gazing at the sky, than she had rolled to her feet again. It was slow and passive, for there was no where she needed to be and no one expecting her. She had all of the night, and she would have simply liked to lay there and think, but she couldn't bring herself to remain still. She was like a fidgety kit at her ceremony, waiting to see; would she be apprenticed to the strong, brave warrior, or the weak, cowardly warrior? Just like the youth in the situation, she could hardly stand to be calm, her tail twitching uneasily, her ears turning to listen. But even with her body being on such high alert, she had missed something crucial. Dreamfeather felt the nervousness of eyes on her back, tracing the bengal patterns on her silver fur, studying her more closely than she cared to be studied. Slowly, carefully, the female turned to gaze into the shadows across the stream, which ran slowly and quietly in the night. Moving blindly in this broad direction, not quite sure what she had seen, about her golden strands rustled. A massive mosquito drifted lazily about her head, spurred from the grasses. Normally, she would have snapped at it, pestered by it's insistent buzzing; but now she was absorbed in what she had or hadn't seen, stumbling toward the darkness gathered and held by sturdy branches.
And what did she see, as she drew nearer, as her glacier blue eyes adjusted to the light? A flash of green, the color of fresh spring grass, blazing out into the night. It couldn't be, it couldn't be. Dizziness swung over her, an unseen enemy out marauding, catching her by sneak attack. She blinked hazily several times, wondering if this was a moon dream. It certainly couldn't be Longshadow. I have been thinking too much, for one thing. I am beginning to scent him here, as if he were by my side. And it was true, because the weather was in loving and gentle temperament, and thus held the forest with a friendly embrace, swaying dry growth in the wind, dashing the scent of a cat that could be neither friend nor enemy her way. As the scent of the black tom reached her, it seemed to greedily attach itself to her fur, unwilling to be dragged off by the shifting air. What has come over me? She could no longer trust her senses, so she crept onward until she stood at the edge of the bank, the water calmly rushing onward without interest in either of the felines. Dreamfeather's expression was complacent, for she could hardly put faith in her sight.
Still, she stared back. He was tall, just slightly taller than herself, for she was not bulky in proportion but also rather lean. However, it took a moment to dawn on her. The deputy realized that he had been watching her, stopped there and numbly taking her in as she lay there, all the time, thinking about him! It was insanity! It was fate! Well, there was just no telling what had caused this strange chance encounter. A fire grew beneath her pelt anyway and she broke her stare with the green eyed warrior, embarrassment escalated by the odd feeling in the night, this night especially. For once unable to control her emotions completely, she exclaimed, "Longshadow!" For all of the waiting, it should have been something more creative, but she couldn't think particularly clearly right then. "What- What are you doing out here?" She sputtered, unable to hold his gaze anymore. Apparently, he had won their staring contest. So much for her fine speech; she never seemed to say what was on her mind. A way with words, Littlebreeze said. True to my heart, Littlebreeze said. Oh, how you must feel now, father!
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Post by aero ❥ on Jul 31, 2011 14:12:48 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] take the blindfold off wandering in the dead of night knowing every minute is a lie
His cold, clover eyes couldn't look away. She was hypnotic, her intriguing reaction to his intense, piercing gaze making his mind stutter with so much intake. She had stood, apprehensive and unnerved, clear blue eyes probably looking around in angst. So beautiful. She then became rather still, like she was nothing more than an actress against a perfect backdrop of tangled wilderness. Her head, turning slightly, allowed him to rest his curious eyes on her defined face. Her eyes seemed made of crystal as the movement reflected the thin moonbeams that rained down around them on this balmy night. She was staring nearly right at him, and his muscles tensed slightly. But her expression did not change, and the camouflaged tom knew he had not yet been spotted among his place in the shadows.
She knew something, someone was there, but who would she think it was? No, the mysterious tom discarded that question. It was who she wanted it to be that was of utmost importance. She was always so collect, (Even when her fierce temper did rage across her uncharted persona.) so preoccupied with shielding herself from everyone else it was hard to read her. Some cats were like open books, talking to them for five minutes told you who they were and what they stood for - not to mention other useless information. Dreamfeather had never been like that, she was secluded to a certain few and even then held things inside. It was Longshadow's assumption once her and Voidstar had shared something, or at least one of them wanted to. An observer, Longshadow couldn't help but notice the leader's outside interest in Flareheart. The quirky she-cat was indeed beautiful, unique and even interesting. But she was too soft for the dark warrior's taste. He hated the weak, the delicate. Dreamfeather was opposite of that, she held her own ground and even had the heart to help others hold theirs', too.
The warrior stood still, staring back at the slightly shorter she-cat with a brazen wonder. In an odd way his green lights were welcoming, daring her to come closer. Alluring in a chilled manner. She blinked a few times, body language changing slightly. She looked like she was on the edge of something, his guesstimate that it was indeed the tom who looked after her in camp, watched her, studied her. The tom she tried to avoid but sometimes just couldn't; either because she didn't want to or he wouldn't let her. He felt so conflicted inside as the elegant she-cat now hesitated at the brink of the swift water trail, her exotic fur patterns clear, scent like tendrils wrapping around him. Constricting, choking. If he slowly backed into the fen's dry grasses, the experience (For both of them.) could be classified as a freak anomaly their minds had conjured up because of one reason or another. That the other hadn't really been there, it had just looked and smelled like it; that their imagination's trickery had been so vivid and detailed it was like dreaming while awake. But he just couldn't bring himself to move. The tensity in the air between them conquered every other feeling the black feline had, and he watched diligently as she realized he indeed was no trick of the mind. He carefully observed her breaking away the link their eyes had been bound to, flustered movements indicating she was embarrassed. He had never seen the silver Bengal embarrassed, and he stole the memory away to toy with later. "Longshadow!" A tremble of pleasure rocked his body, claws unsheathing to anchor himself to the damp, clammy earth. His name rolling off her tongue (Even in the surprised manner it had.) just seemed to prove the credibility of this encounter. "What- What are you doing out here?" Her shock was fascinating, her body language just as engrossing. How she looked away and the pattern of her stripes rippled as she did so - the tone of voice she used and how the words were stunted by her mind not being able to comprehend the fact quick enough that he was indeed across the stream from her. How many times he would be replaying these moments in his head.
His gaze yet didn't break, instead it searched for her's. Still his clover eyes were cold but enchanting in the dim light. The deputy's question echoed in his perked ears, and he thought about how he would answer. What are you doing out here? He had come out here because he did every night - why should this one of been any different. The thing that finalized this night's saunter was in fact Dreamfeather herself. He had wanted an escape from the deathly grip she had on him, but instead he had walked right back into it. This time very literally. Head cocking slightly, he was nearly expressionless as he proceeded. "I come out here every night." His black tail flicked, his own calm becoming ever restless. His voice was cool and monotone, unlike her erratic own that had seemed like twittering. (As he thought about it.) Under the smooth surface of blackness resided a fidgety entity that was feeling very similar to the bewildered she-cat.
Longshadow considered saying more, but it wasn't in his nature to pan out conversation like cookies. So while they both digested this phenomena the shadowed tom stood rather still, studying his point of interest rather openly.
but you still keep wanting more tags: dreamfeather word count: 906 notes: I hope this is a bit better.
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Post by Dawn on Jul 31, 2011 15:03:41 GMT -5
* DREAMFEATHER
[/size][/font] I've already made up my mind | No matter what, I can't be bought or sold
Somewhere in the distant woods an owl hooted, beating its wings as it took to the sky. All around her, crickets chirped in symphony, each appearing to know when the other would fall silent and thus when to begin with its song. They, like the stream, did not heed the feelings or thoughts of other beings around them. Even as she had pushed through the grass none had quieted; it was as if the sound echoed down from the stars, and was unchangeable. Silence, which was ever present in her head, began to grow more and more troubling. Dreamfeather wanted to shake it off physically, but knew it to be impossible. She wanted to run, but knew this was also not an option; there was no use in fighting it, she couldn't turn away from the two clover orbs watching from the shadows. When you meet friend or foe by twilight, things are never the same the next morning; especially if one isn't sure just which you have met, companion or enemy. Also, everything is always more beautiful in the moon's radiant light, both her sterling pelt and his ebony fur taking on a very faint blue hue. The two felines conversation moved very slowly it seemed, the night tranquil as it held them breathless in its grasp. Already it felt like hours had passed. Little was said by word of mouth but much more didn't need to be noted, even if all that escaped was pleasantries; body language was tangible and said more than any cat was able to. A picture, after all, is worth a thousand words. Once, when she was a kit and her brother, Hailghost, had been caught picking on a denmate smaller in size, their mother had said that. Despite his protesting, Russetclaw had informed him that 'a picture was worth a thousand words' and she had already made her own opinion on what was going on. When the same she-cat had pleaded with her son to join her after the rogue attack and her betrayal, saying it had all been for a purpose which he didn't understand, Dreamfeather didn't wonder that he used the same phrase with her.
He seemed to be in deep thought, and so she found herself taking in the night's glory, considering its overall picture. The stream appeared dark in some places, until it would splash over a large rock and then shine silver, illuminated by the moon at last. A line of trees stood at Longshadow's back, each seeming to bend toward herself, their twisted branches revealing sparse leaves clinging here and there. Though there was little light it was not at all dreary, she thought, as her sapphire eyes made their way back to the shadows in which the tom stood. She wished faintly for him to step better into the light, so that she could see his like colored pelt and roughed over features with greater ease. After all, the picture was incomplete without the acknowledgement of both of them into it. Neither was saying much; it was a contest of sorts, Longshadow not willing to say much, Dreamfeather not able to say much. She was so unused to speaking with actual meaning past giving orders and threats that she didn't know what to say now. She felt rather dumb as his sentence didn't register properly at first in her head, but didn't look it, gazing back with placid eyes, neither the look of a hunter stalking her prey nor the casual gaze of a companion. It was like she saw ahead of her a challenge that she couldn't quite figure out, a leap that might have been just a bit too far. An opponent, perhaps, that seemed too skilled for her to take on. She was puzzled by him.
He came out here every night? Well, she was out often enough too, and had never seen him. Dreamfeather was tempted to say as much, but it might have seemed as though she was denying that he did go out each night. It might have seemed, she thought, that he was lying, and she was calling him out on it. That wasn't the case at all. So all she could say at first was a quiet 'Oh.' Not even worthy was her response of being a sentence, it was so short and quiet and betraying of her wondering at how they had chanced to meet on this night. After a moment she collected herself, and looked down at the stream, whose mirrorlike surface was quite unclear. At last the deputy meowed, "I couldn't sleep." She might have added that she was restless and had wanderlust and wished to roam, that she was tired with the future and the present and the past and all of her wondering about them, that she felt like she was going endlessly in the same tired old circle. Dreamfeather, had she had more courage or perhaps a better habit of speaking, might have added that recently she felt as though she were going crazy, and that her life was going no where, and sometimes she caught herself thinking the same thoughts as the day before or having the same conversations, because that was how much of a straight, dying line her life had wandered onto. But of course, she didn't. She didn't say any of that, because she simply couldn't bring herself to. She gazed at the stream quietly and waited for his response, which might lead to his turning away from her in the end or to, perhaps, a stroll with a companion, which would be something new and odd indeed, but something that she could not refuse.
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Post by aero ❥ on Aug 1, 2011 13:16:10 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #f1f1f1] take the blindfold off wandering in the dead of night knowing every minute is a lie
The sights and sounds around Longshadow were of absolutely no importance. The night sky could have split open, creating a whirling vortex sucking in the moon and stars; but still the tall black tom's clover eyes wouldn't have flickered from the Bengal's face for even a moment. To him, all else was expendable, and the world only harbored the two creatures that were separated solely by a thin trickle of water. He took the silence to review what had been found so far. The shadowed warrior's mind started back a few days ago, when he hadn't yet left camp for his nightly trek through the grove or fen. Most had already traded the company of their clan-mates for their soft nest in or around the hollowed tree which the cats of Tempestclan took shelter in. He had been sitting off to the side, half shaded by a young evergreen, quietly grooming himself when she had marched in. A young apprentice, Splashpaw, was closely on her tail, head down in a rather shameful manner.
Longshadow knew Splashpaw was related to the Bengal, (He believed they were cousins.) and that Dreamfeather took her family quite seriously. Downwind of the pair, he caught scent of curious fragrances. The lake shore, the fen, but faint hints of rolling moor wafted to him in the breeze. As they walked by, it was obvious the deputy was angry, her eyes were hard and her fur still slightly bristled, though it was basically unnoticeable. The warrior had just acknowledged the occurrence because he had been tracing her stripes and fur patterns with his watchful gaze. She had not addressed him in any way - whether that was because she hadn't felt the need or simply hadn't seen him in the darkness he wasn't sure. By the base of the ancient tree, she had shared a few low words with the younger she-cat, sending her off to bed with a stern glare. Still the breeze relentlessly washed the beautiful feline's scent his direction, allowing him to now pick out Zephyrclan. She had ran into trouble? Remotely hinting tom, maybe more than one the odor aroused something inside him. His cold eyes searched her body for wounds or blood, but came up empty.
Curiosity stabbed at him without warning, but he could do nothing to ease it. Her leaving his sight, he settled back down. To the lanky tomcat's surprise his fur had become ruffled, his heart beating a pace faster than it normally would. Dissecting this in his mind, he concluded that the possibility of her in danger upset him, therefore leading to the correct culmination that he was protective over her. Never had he felt this way about a single being. His clan, yes he felt protective over that - but this was different. More personal. That night he had ventured the grove, contemplating his feelings. The next day he had been plotting to follow her, but instead his plans and whatever she had wanted to do both were interrupted by Voidstar's ceremony. There he had been given Inkpaw, which had also given him a headache.
The next day he had taken the foul little brute out for a while, the responsibility of mentoring causing Longshadow to act more miserly than usual. That night had had been tired, (He hadn't slept or eaten in almost two days.) but he had restlessly roamed the fen until moon-high, when he returned to camp to sleep. He had woken about sun-high, Inkpaw not bothering to wake him at dawn. That hadn't bothered him though, what did was having to take him out in general. Eating a freshly caught vole, he also devoured a mouse while the smaller tuxedo tom had been busy practicing his stalking. And now he was out here, experiencing a not-so-typical night and learning more about Dreamfeather than he thought he could in one meeting. It was all very quaint.
Her soft 'oh' made his ears flick, thoughts snapping again to the present. She looked a little conflicted, when she spoke seeming to not quite sure if she was finished. "I couldn't sleep." Why? The need to know what kept her up at night pricked his being like thorns, but he did not voice a single phonogram. Instead he stood silently, chilled orbs resting gently on her face. Stepping slightly forward, the dim light spilled across his face, but could not yet reach his body. "Neither could I," For the first time his eyes left her, staring distantly off to the side. "too many nightmares." Not all his dreams were nightmares of course, but the ones that weren't felt just as awkward or unpleasant. Looking back to the beautiful moonlit she-cat, his expression softened. Oddly he felt as if he should smile, but everyone knew the queer tom did not do that. The closest thing to a smile he gave was a smirk or sneer, and both were not fit for the situation. So instead he willed for a change in himself, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
"Do you lose sleep often?" Nonchalantly the question slid through his lips without much thought, a simple hook set with bait to fish for more things to say. As observant of her as he was, of course Longshadow knew she didn't rest easy. He even knew she too sometimes wandered the night, though how often he wasn't sure. When he was out here, was she close? Did they unknowingly touch paths as they searched for peace? I do not search for peace, He internally shook his head. He didn't always know why his paws carried him to the places they did.
but you still keep wanting more tags: dreamfeather word count: 935 notes: Hopefully his memory of the last few days was okay? I don't want to PP or anything.
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Post by Dawn on Aug 4, 2011 14:43:26 GMT -5
* DREAMFEATHER
[/size][/font] I've already made up my mind | No matter what, I can't be bought or sold
She found his gaze unnerving, and it was difficult to unnerve Dreamfeather. She had been through so much in her life, being born eight moons prior to the tom who stood before her. Was it worth taking a trip down memory lane to? The past seemed to haunt everyone's mind so frequently. The only time in her life that had ever been easy was the first few moons. No kit could find fault with those cherished times. She had been quiet but strong, adventurous but obedient. Perhaps it had been that first year that crushed her curious spirit. She was born in a litter of five; consisting of two females, being one of the two, and three males. Goldenkit, her sister, was the loud mouth of the two sisters. She was always getting in trouble, and playing tag along to the apprentices, and with Dreamkit and her three brothers; Owlkit, Blazekit, and Hailkit. From that early time, Dreamkit had been the most mature, the one who watched out for her siblings. Russetclaw hadn't been like other mothers; she doled out affection sparingly, and her words were sharp and at times hurtful. She had only taken a liking for Owlkit and Hailkit, the strongest of the toms, whereas she had disliked Goldenkit and Blazekit greatly, the more friendly, smaller of her litter. As for Dreamkit herself, she had been a liability, and had been ignored mostly. No matter how cold Russetclaw was though, she was her mother, and at that time the bengal kit had cared for her greatly, unable to see her flaws. Even if she had been given so little love from the russet colored feline, their father, Littlebreeze, loved his like-pelted daughter without restraint. When Dreamkit would come to be called Dreampaw, she began to wonder what her kind, gentle father saw in his mate. Before his death, she had asked; and, among other things revealed, the old silver tom had only been able to tell her that he loved Russetclaw for giving him four beautiful kits to live on after him- and one to meet in Starclan.
To make a long story short, her mother had wound up betraying the clan when she was an apprentice. Her father had died of sickness. Dreamfeather had worked hard, trained an apprentice, and become deputy. Now, she was struggling along with a life that didn't agree with her. She wished desperately to keep her family together and to reunite them. To top that all off, she couldn't explain her feelings as of late. It felt as though her emotions belonged to an earlier, fresher warrior, one with more hope for the world that had left her behind. Watching Longshadow watching her, she wondered why such things had been sparked. It was still the same old same old; insomnia, restless wandering, bad dreams. But something about her was different. Do you lose sleep often? That was what he had asked. Normally she would have thought this to make her vulnerable, answering truthfully. Now, Dreamfeather couldn't imagine saying anything different. Breathing shallowly, for the cold, crisp air seemed to make her short of breath, she stretched out a paw to touch the water's surface. "Yes. I'd rather be out here than keeping others awake with my ill dreaming." She admitted, knowing he was looking for more but not willing to give much without something in return. She was cautious, with a bad luck streak that just kept running things to disaster. It had never occurred to her that her unwillingness to commit to even a conversation might be why she had so many misfortunes. There was, after all, no changing fate. Some things were laid out, and she couldn't help but bumble blindly through the traps set to bring her to ruin. The wind shifted, carrying scents in her direction. Slowly, watching him, the deputy asked, "What keeps you awake at night?"
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