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Post by wingedheart on Jun 27, 2009 23:59:54 GMT -5
Wingedheart It had been a long time since Wingedheart breathed. Really breathed. It felt like she had been holding her breath ever since Fernstar had died, hoping that everything she loved didn't crumble around her. She might have prayed, but it had been a long time since she thought StarClan might be listening. She had learn moons ago that she should save her breath. But here, in this great expanse of empty woods, she finally felt safe, or at the very least, safer. No foxes even if they had smelled clan scent around the forest...
Her blood boiled at the thought of the other three clans. Wingedheart had always believed in the good in everycat, that somehow, when they were abandoned, the three clans were still good and just. However, when her kits mewled for food or when she found Swiftclaw bruised and bloodied from his encounter with Kolette, the little sympathy she had for the remaining clans vanished. In this world, she knew she had to take care of herself and her family, because she couldn't rely on the goodwill of others.
Despite this, she had much to be thankful for. Kolette was dead and her mate was still amongst the living. With the exception of one kit, Echokit, whom she thought of everyday with a sadness and pain that couldn't be imagined, she had four beautiful kits. Apprentices now, but they would always be her kits, the rays of sunshine in her life, where when she felt she lacked the strength to go on, they always inspired her. While the prey was not abundant, it was a feast compared to what they had scavenged for before. They had to be cautious yes, but at least they weren't running multiple patrols, exhausted, only to lie awake at night in constant fear. Looking at her kits, excitedly settling down into their temporary home, Wingedheart was grateful after so much hardship.
Her pale green eyes were bright in the afternoon sunlight, a stark contrast from the worry and despair that used to dance in her vision. Her tortoiseshell coat of mixed blacks, oranges, and whites was slowly but surely reverting back to its pre-fox state, well-groomed, fluffy, more like a kitty-pet than a seasoned warrior. However, despite her appearance, there was not a cat in their small, but closely knit group that doubted her passion for her clan or her warriorn sprit which kept BrookClan going even in the darkest of times.
Her only apprehension was these coming moons, and their meeting with the other clans. They couldn't hope to stay hidden forever, but she feared for her family's safety if they got in another war, and this time, her kits would be involved. BrookClan couldn't afford another enemy so soon after Kolette, but she wasn't the only one who would want revenge for what they were put through. To balance vengence with common sense would be a difficult act indeed.
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Post by swiftclaw on Jun 28, 2009 0:47:44 GMT -5
↑ s w i f t c l a w ↓ It was perhaps one of the most beautiful things he had ever experienced. The ground fell away beneath his paws, body gliding as if with wings. He shot through a lush, flourish forest.
And this time it wasn't a dream.
Swiftclaw's body was moving once more like a well-oiled machine. For over a moon, he had been barely able to move. The long journey had been hell for him, each step bathing him in pain. Now he was whole again. The scar down his back was still dark and very horrible-looking, but his muscles had at last knitted themselves together again. On of his ears was nearly shredded, the outside edge hanging in little tatters. There was another scar on the side of his face that was quickly fading beneath his fur. His fur was growing sleek and thick again, flashing as he moved through shadows and pools of sunlight. His bright green eyes glowed with life and joy.
This wasn't home, he'd admit. But it didn't seem to matter anymore. BrookClan was growing strong here. After many moons of almost no food, a tiny mouse left a cat with a swollen, too-full belly. They had brought in a pheasant one evening. The entire clan had eaten until they were full, lurked near the catch, and nibbled on it again the next morning. All of their bodies were beginning to return to their natural forms: muscled, trained, and shining with good health. This forest would do for the time being. One thing Swiftclaw was most grateful for was the little brook running near where they'd set up their camp. It was small and not very well-fed, but the feeling of water about his paws satisfied Swiftclaw beyond words. BrookClan had once survived almost solely on the stream from which they'd taken their name. He had grown up learning to fish day after day. He was tempted to follow the brook into clan territory just for a chance to catch a fish again.
But he resisted that longing. He knew his clan would need at least another half-moon before they were fully ready to make their presence known to the three clans that had abandoned them. He didn't know how they'd react to BrookClan's sudden return, but he wanted his warriors to look like magnificent monsters standing before their betrayers. He didn't want it to come to a battle, but, if needbe, he wanted his warriors back in top physical condition. They'd been fighting foxes for too long. Swiftclaw wasn't sure how they'd fair against actual cats again.
Body flying through the green forest, he pushed his doubts and worries away. For the time being, his clan was happy and well cared for. The patched tom threw his head back, a light breeze ruffling his long pelt as his paws began to slow. As he lowered his head once more, a beautiful sight caught his gaze. He skidded to a halt at once, his attention fully captivated.
She was sitting in a patch of sunlight, the white of her coat positively glowing. Swiftclaw's eyes widened. Her ginger patches seemed on fire, and her bits of black looked pure ebony. Her pale green eyes seemed alive with beautiful emotion. He couldn't stop his jaw from dropping. How on earth had he never noticed how gorgeous she was before? His heart ached for her in a way he hadn't felt before. Sure, he had grown more fond of her in the last moons than he had ever felt for a she-cat before, but this was different. Before, it was her steadfast loyalty and undying adoration for her clan that had caught his eye. Now it was her stunning beauty. Swiftclaw felt light-headed as he suddenly realized how lucky he was... The she-cat he had ended up with almost by accident was the kind of cat any tom would spend a lifetime pining after. She was smart, loving, and startlingly beautiful.
He moved silently forward, eyes suddenly filling with a look of mischief that hadn't graced his features for nearly a year. He slunk forward without making a sound, instinct keeping his paws from stepping on anything that would alert her to his presence. He slipped through the shadows, a small smile pulling at his lips. At the last second, when he should have sat back and waited for a perfect opening, he moved forward. His black-and-white side slid past her shoulder, a purr rumbling from his chest.
"Hello," he said lightly, not noticing how dumb his greeting might sound. He was too caught up in her to pay much attention to himself anymore...
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Post by wingedheart on Jun 28, 2009 2:01:07 GMT -5
Wingedheart
It seemed that the moment she got a second of peace and quiet, she was suddenly interrupted and instantly put on guard. Too many moons of constant fighting, sleepless nights, and kits in the nursery did much to hone Wingedheart’s reflexes as she instantly recoiled back, claws unsheathed as she wheeled around to face her attacker, only to be just as startled to see Swiftclaw standing there, purring all the while! She quickly sheathed her claws, but sat there, her delicate features dumbfounded and confused, flicking her tail in silence. “Don’t scare me like that,” she scolded finally, as if he were one of her kits, still unaware of what could have produced such a startling display of emotion from her mate.
As she examined her mate’s face closer, she was surprised as she realized how much younger he looked, how much more alive and exuberant. She gasped, wondering why it had not hit her sooner! He was happy…, a strange and novel concept for the hard-faced leader of BrookClan whose strength and determination had gotten them here safely. Her pale green eyes absorbed every detail of his face like welcomed sunlight as if she had never seen it before, and like this, she never had. Nor had she ever seen him look this handsome, his strong features and amber-green eyes usually marred with sadness or frustration. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it, his energy was alluring and contagious and in the background of her smile, her eyes glowed. Upon closer examination, she was startled to see that he was looking at her differently, he seemed…captivated by her presence, like he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the very sight of her. Her heart fluttered in her chest, so loud, that she was positive he could hear it to, and blushed slightly, though scarcely noticeable due to the black and ginger markings gracing her cheekbones.
It was only then that she suddenly remembered that he had greeted her and she owed him that same courtesy. “Hello there,” she answered, taking a few steps closer to him after her initial surprised reaction. As she drew closer, her eyes were captivated by the mischief dancing in his eyes, and she perked her ears in curiosity before laughing out loud. Her laugh was soft and tinged with emotions she had forgotten she possessed, joy, vivaciousness, and for such a small sound, it filled the air around them. It suddenly hit her that it had been a long time since she had heard laughter. “You are just like one of the apprentices,” she joked, batting his shoulder playfully like a boisterous kit. She met his eyes and proceeded to move closer, pressing her cheek against his, reveling in feeling safe, wanted, needed. Never before had they been this close, but their journey was all about changing, right? And from the way he looked at her, she was filled with the confidence of her earlier days only heightened by this spring sunshine. She had long ago given up her fanciful notions of true love, stories for silly kits, convinced that it would always elude her. But being so close to her mate, she had no other words to describe it.
She pulled away, somewhat reluctantly, and met his eyes again, smiling softly, at this shared moment, hoping it would be welcomed on his part. This is where she belonged, with SwiftClaw, with her kits and if StarClan even bothered to listen, she would have thanked them for the courage that led her to stay with BrookClan.
However, in the midst of all these long dormant emotions, she hated to put a damper on their spirits, but she felt like she had to ask. "How long do you think until we reveal ourselves to the other clans?" she said, the first trace of worry flickering over her features.
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Post by swiftclaw on Jul 22, 2009 20:25:29 GMT -5
↑ s w i f t c l a w ↓ He felt so warm beside her, so perfectly content. For a second, he felt like nothing else in the world would satisfy him except being beside her. Her laughter left his ears abuzz, and he grinned openly just to hear it. The smile faded, though, as she moved her body closer. His green eyes seemed to glow as he gazed down at her, his tail sweeping protectively around her. She reached her muzzle forward and touched her patched cheek to his white. He held perfectly still, savoring the feeling of being so close. Her breath tickled his ear.
After a moment that seemed far too brief, Wingedheart pulled away. The happiness remained on her face for a second, before worry overcame her features instead. Concern flickered through him. What was the matter? Her words, of course, made sense. He dipped his head, accepting her question, but took his time replying. Swiftclaw let his body sink to the ground, paws tucked under his chest. He flicked his tail lightly, inviting her to join him.
Back when Fernstar was still leader and the other clans hadn't yet left, a leader's word had been law. The clan's deputy was really the only one to offer advice on important subjects such as this. But Swiftclaw didn't have a deputy. Truthfully, he couldn't imagine favoring one of his warriors above the rest. He wanted the opinions of all of them to be known, not some privileged and some ignored. The clan would take care of each other, not one extra cat giving orders. One advantage to having a deputy, Swiftclaw acknowledged was knowing exactly which cat would take over when the leader died. For the time being, the patched tom knew it would be Wingedheart. She had always stood beside him, done anything he asked, and cared for every clanmate. But he worried that the burden would be too much for her. He didn't want her to loose her beauty to overwhelming worry and constant concern. She already took care of the warriors as if they were her kits, but he wondered if she could do it all on her own.
No BrookClanner is ever alone, he reminded himself quietly, turning back to her question.
"Perhaps not for a full moon," he admitted, turning his gaze back to her. "The apprentices will need to learn how to hunt in the forest, and we all need to practice fighting against cats instead of foxes." He paused, imagining the moment when BrookClan suddenly stood before every cat that had turned their backs on them. They would slink out of the darkness, silent shadows with gleaming eyes. Their pelts would be sleek and handsome, bodies muscled and well-fed. Their claws would shine sharp and strong. Swiftclaw would prefer not to enter the forest for the first time with a battle, but he did want his clan to look like the highly skilled warriors they were.
"We'll need to be careful. I don't want them to find out we're here before we're ready." The effect of suddenly appearing would be lost if some random cat happened to stumble upon them. "But we should do looking around. We don't want to be caught clueless if they decide to spring something on us." He nodded, almost to himself. He glanced back over at her, green eyes sparkling with mischief again. "Imagine their shock if we suddenly appear at a Gathering." A purred laugh rumbled in his chest, hoping he'd be in a good position to see the surprise dawn over their faces.
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Post by wingedheart on Jul 24, 2009 22:33:08 GMT -5
Wingedheart She moved to be closer to him, laying down beside her, her flank pressed against his comfortingly, calico melting into black and white patches, and basked in his presence, the reassuring feel of his pelt against hers. She nodded at his words, slightly shuddering at the idea the other clans would find them before they were ready, at the thought of her kits, apprentices now, but always her kits exchanging blows with the other cats. The gathering idea was a good one, the other clans wouldn’t dare attack them at a full-moon and she wouldn’t have to see her family destroyed in a mindless quest of revenge. If she ever bumped into one of the clan cats by herself, rest assured, she would not hesitate to make them pay for the scars of Kolette on her mate, the loss of Echokit, the rumbling stomachs of her family, for all that and more, they would pay dearly. But she did not want her kits pulled into that same game of vengeance.
Speaking of kits, she took a second glance down at her belly. She wasn’t showing yet, her long fluffy splotched fur effectively hiding any signs and without a medicine cat it was impossible to be sure…still the signs were unmistakable and her face glowed at the very thought of another litter. The first, while they brought joy to Wingedheart, they were born in a time of great hardship and were the result of a relationship between acquaintances, instead of mates drawn together through love. These kits would know happiness, they would know a solid home, born of two parents who loved each other very much, and they would almost certainly grow up well-fed and well-loved.
She smiled, amused at his idea, but even more captivated by this purring laughing tom that was her mate, happy and healthy, mischievious like a kit, it was enough to make her fall in love all over again. The first time was upon living with him, admiring his support, his leadership, how he never failed to put the clan above himself. Now she loved the joyful charming tom that she now knew was always there, just waiting for an opportune moment to show himself. “That is a good idea and much safer for us than to surprised them when they are at camp,” she commented softly, always concerned with their safety. “And our kits do need training, especially if they are going to hold their own,” she added, as much as the idea of her family fighting worried her. “You might have to count me out of that though…”she said shyly, her pale green eyes radiating love and joy as they met his. She couldn’t help but press her cheek against his once more and whispered, though still audibly, “I think I’m expecting,” she finished.
This was much more like how she had imagined it. A loving mate, a private moment, rather than their first litter, awkwardly business-like. He loved his kits upon seeing them, but she wasn’t viewed as a she-cat, she was viewed as an asset to the clan, their union was valuable to their survival, and although she had wished for more, she hadn’t begrudged him for their relationship.
She pulled away, meeting his eyes once more, knowing that she had made the right choice all those moons ago, hoping that he was ready to become a father once more. "At least I think I am, it might be too early to be absolutely sure, but I could have sworn I felt them moving," she added, her face illuminated with the joy she could not put into words.
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