going down to nothin. {clan meeting}

[lace !]

A breeze drifted by, tugging at the outer branches of the half-barren canopy. A few leaves wilted to the ground, the breeze pulling at them in varying rates; the ends curled and devoid of all color. Occasionally, a red or orange leaf might trail down the scraps of remaining foliage of ferns below- but scarcely. Paws tread upon the dried greenery, crunches and paw steps mixing together in a cacophony of noise. A patrol entered camp, the barrier rustling slightly. Cats in the clearing became aware, scarcely paying heed to the returning bunch. Leafbare was in preparation, and the forest was beginning hibernation. This meant prey would be scarce, along with herbs and moss.
The upcoming leafbare would be a tough one- and Paintedstar knew that. She could feel it in her bones- as they creaked with the effort to stand; the tuxedo she-cat pushing herself up and onto her paws. Her tail twitched, curling itself into a crooked question mark, and she stretched, her claws weaving in and out of her day-old bedding. The moss was hard and dried out, however, there were more pressing matters to attend to; other than dry bedding. Besides, the elders would need the fresh for their old, tired joints. They deserved many seasons of rest, they had served the clan well.
Am I serving the clan well?

[/i][/color] The ZephyrClan leader queried. Her thoughts tugged along in her brain, slow and sludgy. A few ears flicked in her direction as she emerged from the sheltered den, the air overhead now moist and damp. The fog clung to her fur, making it more clumped and matted than before. She shook herself, spraying any nearby cats. Not bothering to care, the lackadaisical female trudged though camp, her paw steps heavy and loud. Her tail drooped, ears folded back. Her heart- and incubus to her lonely, depressing life- and her body, a soulless shell. A sick feeling lay in her stomach, pulling it down, with a force seemingly greater than gravity itself. As she approached the meeting rock, her shoulders hunched. Gritting her teeth in forewarning of the coming pain, she leapt onto the rock, her body sagging under her weak bones, as she landed.
She swallowed gently, looking out into camp. Her camp. Trees had fallen; leaves had gathered; and dens had been abandoned. She dare not look at the fresh-kill pile; for it, too, had bee obviously neglected- despite the lack of prey. Her bottomless ocean eyes scanned the clearing, looking for an old friend to put her at ease. This gesture only led to disappointment, for the she-cat realized the one she wanted was Ripplesurf. She jerked, a reaction similar to one of a cat getting shot. Her paws ached already, eager to go back to her den and lay down. She braced herself, clearing her throat. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join me here beneath the High Ledge!"[/color]
Paintedstar let her call ring out, despite the scratchy distortion of her sore throat. Watching as her clan assembled, her face began to burn with shame. Her pelt crawled, as if someone had released thousands of ants upon it. She rested her tail on the declining slope of the boulder, the smooth surface underneath soothing to the irritation of a thousand flea bites. Her whiskers quivered with the effort of avoided prying eyes of her clanmates. She blinked slowly. How was she ever going to make it up to them?
[/color][/font][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

^{STARRING : Paintedstar ; ZephyrClan
WORDS : 466
STATUS : Complete
NOTES : For sake of my sanity; someone reply.
LYRICS USED : USE Somebody - Kings of Leon
LISTENING TO : Atrophy - RJA
CREDIT : TANA}

[Ice]

<<Scarlet//doom>>
Now and again we try
To just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it around
Cause it's not too late
It's never too late




Scarletdoom glanced up from her paws upon hearing Paintedstars raspy cry. The red tinted, black female shyly padded towards the leader of ZephyrClan. Her honey colored eyes were wary. The tuxedo she cat before her had seemed mentally ill, to put it politely. She had refused a medicine cat, perhals their only hope. Paintedstar appeared anxious at the moment, her pelt was bristling. Scarletdoom sighed, looking around at the others. None looked happy. She sighed.

As she shifted from one dainty white paw to the other, the warrior shimmered, dilating from red, to black, and red again. She didn't notice, and kept her beautiful face trained upon her leader. The leader was sick, and it didn't seem she'd get better in a miracle. StarClan had done this, is what Paintedstar said soon after becoming ill. But what would she have to say. I wonder if this has anything to do with the sickness... or how the clan is treating her Scarletdoom commenced thinking. Thinking was a strong point, nobody could yell at you for thinking. Nobody ever knew if you were thinking or not. It was secret. A silent exchange with yourself. You couldn't betray yourself, not unless you accidentally spoke a thought. Speaking a thought cold either save your life or end it. The shimmering she cat tore herself from those thoughts, to proceed to another topic. Friends seemed a worthy subject, and Scarletdoom thought hard. She herself felt quite friendless. It wasn't that she wasn't friendly, she just wasn't well understood by her clanmates. Her sweet amber eyes softened at the thought of someone speaking to her in the manner of friends. As lost in thought as she was, the long furred warriordid not notice how close she had sat to the High Ledge, and the growing number of cats milling around, close to her.

Jumping at the realization, Scarletdoom made her way back to the back of the crowd. She was embarrased. Never before had the small warrior been so bold as to sit up front. Why to her it was alien. Her place was not in front, with the brave and fierce, but in the back, among the weak and cowardly. Such a burst of what she called boldness, but really more so confidence, caused the young cat to scold herself. Her red tipped tail lashed a bit, flashing little shards of pinkish light upon the ground. The pretty female glanced around again, to make sure nobody had seen her sudden 'arrogance'. It was sad how little Scarletdoom thought of herself, and what she did think wasn't good. She believed she had rights to nothing, and was only an unimportant female. One could only ever hope to wonder what words her parents whispered into her ears when she was but a kit in the nursery, subsceptible to think any lies spilled into her head was truthful. Her face was beautiful in a sad way, in the way that when you look at her you feel compelled to cry, but you also want to smile while crying. Smiling while the glass tears fall down your face, to shatter onto the ground.



Tagged: anyone from ZC Word count:1240

OOC: WOO!!! 1240 words!!! Wee! I don't care if I roleplay weird, this was great!!

[Dusk]

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[atrb=background, i339.photobucket.com/albums/n480/Shardclaw/orangebackground.jpg] Leaf-fall always ended up being one of the calmest seasons for clan cats. All the clans were busy preparing for the coming of heavy snows and lacking prey, too busy to be bothered with plots of invasion and prey stealing. The transitional season was a season for preparations. During summer cats were well-fed and strong enough for more ambitious leaders to get it in their heads to expand their territory; in the chill of leaf-bare desperation led to warriors stealing prey. Both resulted in conflict. Conflict often expanded into full-blown battles, and full-blown battles more often resulted in death - even if death was never the intention of the instigators of the fighting. Havocflare would absolutely love fall if it didn't come with that sense of foreboding that times of plenty were nearing an end. This year, the old warrior wished that green-leaf didn't plan on leaving them so early. Cats were still sick, and cold weather would only worsen the sore throats which seemed to be the worst affliction of the illness. However, weather cared little for beings as small as some ruffian felines scratching out a living in an area that happened to suffer many extremes in weather. The tom walked into the camp with the arriving patrol, smallest of the bunch besides the small apprentice, Dunepaw, who limped quietly over to the apprentice den. Odd, how rarely the spidery-limbed tom had been in camp as of late. Perhaps lacking a proper mentor for the second time in his life was getting to the poor cat. He could bring the dark-furred cat out on one of the training sessions with Shadedpaw, sometime. A weary, rasping voice reached his ears and drew the senior warrior's attention to the rocky outcropping where a familiar piebald she-cat. Paintedstar. 'How is she coping, I wonder?' Ripplesurf's disappearance had hit most of the older clan cats hard, and Havocflare was no exception. The old tom was an friend back from his first days in the clan; it wouldn't be easy simply to mourn for a day or two and move on. At least he'd kept from lashing out at those fools who muttered darkly of the "Deputy's Curse" and nodded sagely when Ripplesurf had failed to return to camp one day. Stormtrick was still around, at least. Thing would be far worse for the spike-furred feline if both of his long-time companions had suddenly dropped out of his life at the same time. White-toed paws carried the warrior over to the High Ledge of their own accord while his mind was elsewhere. He sat instinctively by Stormtrick, seeking some form of comfort in the presence of the presence of his older friend while fixing a saffron gaze on the leader of his beloved clan. Had she chosen a new deputy, reconsidered her decision on rejecting that loner with medicinal skills? They were in desperate need of a cat with medical skills who might know how to handle the plague in the camp. Paintedstar, though, seemed less prepared to trust other since her rising to the post of leader. Unsurprising - considering how not every cat spoke well of her - but, still, refusing the openly offered help of another cat wasn't the best decision at the moment. He fixed the grimace pulling down on his features; she needed every loyal cat to her looking confident and ready. 'You can do this, Paintedstar. Starclan knew what they were doing when they accepted you as leader.'

[Wolfy]

Quietly, all three apprentices slipped out of the apprentices den just in time to hear the call of Paintedstar, the leader of ZephyrClan. Stopped in their tracks, they all looked at one another and began to lead themselves over to the High Ledge, Shadedpaw in the lead.

**ShADedpAw[/size]
Can I trust in my own heart?
Or am I just one part of some big plan?


Trotting quickly out of the den, the small grey she-cat blinked her eyes over to Paintedstar who rested on the High Ledge. A clan meeting. Something was bothering Paintedstar as far as she could see. Noting that the deputy, Ripplesurf, was gone from their presence. It was like he didn't exist, Shadedpaw could only imagine how the leader was feeling. Empty perhaps? Remembering her brothers following behind her, Shadedpaw led them towards the middle of the group so they could really listen to the leader. Seeing Havocflare amongst them, Shadedpaw flicked her grey tail at her brothers and she broke apart from them to sit next to her mentor. Maybe he knew what was wrong with Paintedstar. She was sure the whole clan would love to know.

FIREPAW[/color]

//Out of the fire, my paws will lead me.\\

Following Shadedpaw out, Firepaw saw his leader calling the meeting together. Orioleflash, his mentor, was no where to be seen, but that wouldn't stop him from listening to the meeting. He had talked once before with Paintedstar and had grown to really love her and thought the tuxedo she-cat was the best leader out of anyone ever. He was always ecstatic when she was around so that he could talk to her. Shivering a bit, he made his way towards the crowd of cats in their Clan. ZephyrClan was the best clan to be in by far, but Firepaw wanted to be a warrior so bad he could taste it. Would someone be getting to be a warrior today? He should hope not. He didn't want Dunepaw to be a warrior yet, Firepaw hadn't had enough training to be introduced as a warrior too yet. Even though Dunepaw was much older anyways. What was he even thinking about? Firepaw had stopped mid-walk and Rustlepaw had run into the back of him. Shaking his head, Firepaw pounced back in action and rushed towards the meeting, full speed, tripping over one of the warriors in front of him anyways, not bothering to see who it was, he put his head down, but kept running to find a place to sit.

Rustlepaw
It's much too quiet in here, I wanna disappear.
I'm hearing myself thinking too clear.

Rustlepaw, bumping into his brother, nosed his way around the orange tom and looked up at the High Ledge. Unusually quiet ever since he got over the sickening illness that spread throughout his Clan, Rustlepaw had hardly spoken since the incident. He hadn't found comfort in anyone's presence ever since his mum died. Barklace was the first to die from the terrible sickness and Rustlepaw really thought he would be next, but the newly found medicine cat, Toxicwinter, had changed that for him and healed him. Cured from the curse, Rustlepaw was expected (at least by his siblings) to return to normal and connect back to the real world, but something always stopped him from being happy. Even he himself didn't know what was wrong with his emotional disturbance. Blinking, the small brown tom continued towards the meeting with a less energetic pace than Firepaw and Shadedpaw. He didn't even see his mentor, Stormtrick anywhere. No matter. He wouldn't want to be a burden to his warrior mentor. He wasn't the best apprentice. He wasn't happy all the time, he wasn't loud, and he wasn't strong enough to rub the sickness away. He was weaker than his siblings. Following slowly, Rustlepaw sat away from Firepaw and away from Shadedpaw and sat down in his own company while looking up the High Ledge to listen to the leader's new meeting.

[lace !]

There was sadness in her voice- the ZephyrClan leader. She had not only lost her dearest deputy; Ripplesurf, but her own clan was doomed to die of illness without a medicine cat. Faintly, the she-cat remembered the encounter with a feline called Toxicwinter. An apprentice of her own clan had been struck but the recent illness sweeping through the clans, and had wandered out of camp. The poor thing had fallen, and was too weak to carry on. Fortunately, the said tom had medical experience, and, despite her own hostility, was able to treat the apprentice. Unwillingly, the tuxedo she-cat had accepted his help, and lead him to camp. She still wasn't sure where she stood, but she knew that this was the meeting to either reject or accept the loner.
She had to consider her choice carefully, however, for if she made the wrong decision, the results and consequences could be deadly. If she rejected the tom, then her clan could be struck by another wave of the illness, or perhaps white/greencough. They could not afford to lose any warriors in the heat of leafbare, let alone in preparation. Soon, all warriors would be ordered to stay on patrols, and the apprentices would be required to stay in camp to defend, guard, and perform tasks. Bedding would need changed, and the entrance would need guarded. However, if the ZephyrClan leader accepted the tom, and he turned out to be evil or from an opposing, outside clan, it could have dire consequences. He could kill them all, or overthrow her own.
The she-cat stopped herself from laughing maniacally. Her? Paintedstar? Be overthrown? Digging her claws into the smooth ledge beneath her, she threw her head up high. Whiskers straight, she looked down upon her gathering clan. She spotted the three apprenticed siblings- Shadedpaw, Rustlepaw, and Firepaw. Her tail twitched at the sight of Firepaw. She and the young tom had gotten along very well in previous times- he was quite the adventurous cat. Paintedstar had grown to accept a certain liking to the adolescent tom; he was an ideal warrior. She would be proud to make him a warrior- but until that day, he would have to prove himself worthy. Her fierce, piercing turquoise eyes gazed down upon Havocflare; the runner-up in her previous deputy election. The tom had not been far away from grasping the position, however, Ripplesurf had shown more potential.
Ripplesurf's gone now.

[/i][/color] The she-cat reminded herself, clenching her jaw in order to avoid flinching. His name brought back pain. She had grown to like the tom, as well, and she admired his wisdom, courage, and bravery. The pair had not always understood each other, and often saw things from a different perspective, but that was not an issue, for they worked well together. He would have been an excellent leader, she thought to herself absently. Her eyes descended once more to Havocflare, and she twitched her ears. Havocflare had many much-admired traits, as well, and would also make an excellent deputy, and one day, leader. He had high potential, however, Paintedstar was not particularly fond of the tom. She did not know why; it was not as if she hated him. She rather liked him, however, something inside her always told her to be weary. This was not a matter of her personal feelings, however; this was a job and duty to her clan, and StarClan. She was responsible for choosing her successor, she had to choose well.
The great warrior stood tall and proud, looking down on her warrior, Scarletdoom. The female was not Paintedstar's particular favorite, but she had good qualities, and the she-cat believed she had good morals. Perhaps she, too, had high potential. Hell, all of ZephyrClan most likely had high potential. But not all had the right traits and values, to lead the clan. Although Paintedstar trusted all of her warriors, apprentices, ect, she knew that sometimes, a warriors heart was misguided, and in the wrong place. Is my heart in the right place?[/color] She asked herself. Puffing out her chest, she shoved the thought into the back of her mind, and prepared to address her clan.
"Cats of ZephyrClan!"[/color] She announced, her voice ringing throughout camp; despite the chatter of cats in the clearing. "As you all know, our dearest deputy, Ripplesurf, has disappeared."[/color] The words were forced; she almost choked on the toms name. With a smooth flick of her head, however, she calmed herself, and reminded herself others would be understanding; they missed the great warrior, too. "Despite our grieving, we have to move on. Our friend would not like us to wait in his absence; he would want us to move on, to a new era. He would want to see his clan rise up once again!"[/color] As she spoke, her words gradually became louder. The confidence inside her was growing, despite the nagging thoughts on the edge of her mind. "That is why today, I would be pleasured to announce your new deputy."[/color] Pausing, Paintedstar let her words hang in the air. She gazed down upon her clanmates, letting her words sink in. Gaze rested on Havocflare, she took in a sharp breath. Was this the right decision? "Cats of ZephyrClan, I would like to welcome your new deputy- Havocflare!"[/color]
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^{STARRING : Paintedstar ; ZephyrClan
WORDS : 942
STATUS : Complete
NOTES :
LYRICS USED : USE Somebody - Kings of Leon
LISTENING TO : Candyland - BOTDF
CREDIT : TANA}

[Dawn]

LURIDSMOKE.

[/size]

Gone.[/font] Her father, gone. Emotion rose up in her chest, a wave, threatening to overwhelm her and bring her to the ground. A sickening feeling, far worse than any kind of contagious cough, made her throat tighten and her muscles ache. All she could think as she stood before Paintedstar was, how could he leave me? How could he leave me again? And then, blinking and turning her face away to hide the wash of emotion there, she felt something else. Why should it matter, that he's left me, left us? He was never there to begin with. He has never cared for us! From then on, thoughts raced through Luridsmoke's mind, and she could scarcely bare to listen to the leader. The hard faced female forced herself to look at Paintedstar, forced herself not to think that this was the black and white female's fault, to disregard the curse, to not believe there was a curse. Her green eyes, so alluring in coloring, were almost paled with the sadness and anger found there. Her long, cream/gray fur was messy, like she had just woken from a long sleep, and still couldn't quite figure what was happening, what was going on. If only this could be a dream, invented by her mind...

STORMTRICK.[/size]
He stared up at Paintedstar, pained. Daring himself to believe in what had happened in the last moon, and to see, all around him, the horrors that ravaged the clan he loved. Havocflare settled beside him, and at that moment it all came crashing down around the senior warrior; how much he cared for Ripplesurf and Havocflare, how close he had been to these toms, his brothers. The gray and charcoal tom pressed to his friend's side for a moment, feeling a hard lump in his throat, then drew away, to stand alone and gaze up at the leader. Stormtrick looked only for a moment at the youngest of the three senior warriors, Havocflare, whom he cared for so much, and gathered his feelings together. He heard other cats gathering around them, and felt strength and determination well up in his heart; even in the desperation of this gathering they stood together, even when the trio missed one; the deputy, Ripplesurf. Unable to continue his stare off with Paintedstar, who his feelings were mixed greatly for; admiration, friendship, perhaps even a glint of affection- he turned his blue eyes back to look at the cats around them. He noticed his apprentice, Rustlepaw, joining the assembled clan, but the young tom did not seem to see Stormtrick, or if he did, he gazed through him, as he often seemed too. Had the quiet apprentice noticed him, sitting stoic near the front of the meeting, he would have gestured with his tail for the brown tabby to come and sit beside his mentor; now was not a time to stand apart, but to press together and be thankful for what was left and pray, pray, that Starclan would let up.

As the clan sat ready, and Paintedstar announced the tom that would fill in deputy, Stormtrick was anything but surprised that it was Havocflare. It hurt him, wounded him, however; for even though he believed nothing in the curse, having laughed with Ripplesurf about it moons ago, now that his closest friend was gone he felt a thorn in his heart that Havocflare would replace him. If Havocflare was killed; if he was even hurt, or grew sick... the clan would surely believe in the curse, and the hurt would never end for him, to lose them both. Hearing a cry from a cat at his other side, the despair seemed to fill the camp and his feelings were summed up in that terrifyingly sad note. Stormtrick turned to the cat, taking in Ripplesurf's sleepless daughter, and remembering seeing her born, he could not help but press to her side, wanting to quiet her cry, stifle her pain.

LURIDSMOKE.[/size]
How could she. Luridsmoke's fur bristled unconsciously, and her eyes sparked. Ripplesurf was being replaced, like he was a shadow, the past; like he was never going to return! She wanted it to be temporary, Havocflare, one of her father's best friends, replacing him. She wanted it to last for a short time, until the rightful deputy returned. What made her cry out, was that she knew Ripplesurf wasn't coming back. The sick feeling in her stomach made her want to flee as her eerie cry send shivers through her own body. Stormtrick pressed to her side but she hissed, and, unable to control her emotions any longer, turned and pushed through the crowd. In a few moments, she had disappeared out onto the moor, before any cat knew what happened. From there she would run, and blindly hope that she could find her father. It was ridiculous, conflicting, stupid; but still she did it without hesitation. From behind her, the noises of the camp died down and disappeared entirely.
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total word count: 825
notes: sorry for the drama, though Luridsmoke may as well get worked up. please don't have anyone follow her, unless you have interest in an offspring of this thread. (: She's no longer in this thread, though.

[MiNTY♥]

And through the rising and falling apart, We discover who we are

A large silver figure sat silhouetted in the entrance to the medicine cats den. As the leader called her clan forward he was half in doubt as to whether or not he was included in that since he wasn’t actually a part of the clan and therefore probably not entitled to listen in on their business. This way he could hopefully go unnoticed just in case he wasn’t supposed to be here but on the other hand if someone questioned his presence he could make his subtle presence known to the rest of the clan from where he sat. Feelings of not being welcome put aside, he had healed one of their younger and weaker cats who would most likely have died without his assistance. It was a fairly simple job to nurse the young tom back to health but only if you had the skill and knowledge to do so which as it turned out he did have. Being a healer had never been on the agenda for Toxicwinter but he had found it had prevented him from turning out quite as cold and murderous as the rest of Delirium had, it caused him to realise underneath all his fur he had feelings and so did others. In a way he was thankful to Shard for forcing him down such a path, but at the same time he also had the skill to kill others that would always coexist with the healing. Indeed it was an unusual contrast but it was what made him who he was and one always existed beside the other, making others weary of trusting him.

Not being able to share the grief that the other warriors of the clan shared he simply sat in silence as a new deputy was named, and others cried out in grief to show their misery. Frowning as he looked around him he felt a little sympathetic towards the new deputy, his ceremony being made into a sad event but at the same time Toxicwinter had never experienced any great losses because he hadn’t ever been close to anyone, thus he could not feel empathy with any of these cats which created a rather awkward moment for him. He began to wonder what would cause a deputy to desert their clan; perhaps he had a run in with Shard, poor cat. Although as far as he knew Shard hadn’t been going on any killing sprees so maybe he just decided to leave but he wouldn’t want to suggest to any of these cats that their deputy had not been loyal, so maybe it had been a total accident. It was hard to come up with a solution when you had never even met the one in question. Eyeing the new striped deputy suspiciously he made a mental note of what he could be feeling with. He didn’t always feel the need to be respectful especially when there had been no contract drawn up between him and this clan and so if that got him into trouble he just wanted to know who he was up against. It wasn’t as though he was planning on killing anybody anyway it was just a little bit of harmless fun, heck he was here to make them all better. If they kicked him out now they might appear to him rather paranoid, not that he cared either way but still he had only done good things for them. If they did kick him out there was a certain temptation to stir up some trouble for them since he was basically lost anyway and not in the physical sense.

words || 605
notes || holy crapahola, minty can post!

ANCK SU NAMUN OF CAUTION!

[Dusk]

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[atrb=background, i339.photobucket.com/albums/n480/Shardclaw/orangebackground.jpg] The tom let his eyes drift to look over at his long-time friend and clan-mate, the dusky tom's blue eyes were pained, though his features remained stony in the face of despair. Moons upon moons of knowing a tom make it hard to keep too many secrets from each other, although Havocflare was sure there were things he knew about neither his old -likely deceased- friend nor the only slightly older tom beside him now; he'd never begrudged his friends for keeping things amongst themselves even though he was at times saddened by the stronger bond of which he could never really take part. There were some of Ripplesurf's secrets which would die with - the tom stopped himself from completing the thought. More death should be the last thing on his mind. He took a shallow breath, his lungs seemed to despise the idea of a good relaxing breath. 'Foolish tom, this isn't how you should be acting right now. Pull it together.' Havocflare was always stern with himself; it was almost laughable how he would chide as though he was speaking to a stubborn apprentice. That was how he functioned, though, ever the humble tom and not unwilling to see where others were more skilled than he. With thoughts of apprentices now fresh in his head, the tom glanced over to where a small trio sat. Usually, he would have motioned Shadedpaw to seat herself next to him, but the young she-cat took the initiative for herself and broke off from her male siblings to join him on his other side. Watching the apprentices break of in three separate directions, he frowned. After the loss of their mother, he would have expected them to be more tight knit than ever before. Family needed to stand together in times of hardship after all. Too late now, though. 'Ahh, she's speaking,' the tom realized as he was broken out of his idle reverie. Watching the younger leader carefully, he bit back his own sigh as she struggled to speak of the disappeared deputy. He'd seen enough leaders to know that the loss of the first close adviser always struck the hardest. This time, though, the loss struck on a more personal note for the warrior. He bowed his head in respect to the memory of the massive tom, also hiding his face from the crowd in case the stinging he felt in his eyes resulted in tears. His face remained down-turned as Paintedstar continued, the black and white female's voice losing the small tremor of pain. He just wanted the ceremony to be over and done with, for the new deputy to be announced so the warriors could go back to mourning in peace. I would like to welcome your new deputy- Havocflare! The mentioned warrior looked up sharply, surprise and confusion lighting up in his yellow gaze. Everything seemed to be frozen, the brown tabby felt rooted to the ground, his whiskers seemed to be the only part of him capable of moving as they trembled slightly. Havocflare was sure he'd misheard. But then, why was everyone turning their heads to look at him. Including that loner who'd offered up his services as medicine cat, although there was something oddly suspicious in the silver tabby's glare. It was the cry of Luridsmoke that set him back into motion. Her sharp cry broke the tom out of his stupor and forced him to look around in shock. He caught a fleeting glimpse of Ripplesurf's offspring fleeing from the camp, and felt his pelt heating up in a mixture of shame and sadness. With a shaky breath the youngest of the once trio gathered up his strength and stood, walking down to just below the High Ledge. Would the leader step down to greet him? That would be her decision. Whatever the case, the tom turned so he could best address all the gathered felines. "Paintedstar, I thank you for this... honor." He stumbled in finding the right words, for once unable to have the perfect thing to say. "I know I'll never be the deputy my dear old friend, Ripplesurf, was, but I will do my best to support the clan. I will not make you regret your decision." The words felt stilted in his mouth. They weren't right, but what else could he do besides cover up his own unhappiness?