Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2018 20:23:43 GMT
- Let your faith be bigger than your fears -
Not missing the way Aspenstar’s fur bristled, nor the irritable look on Cinderstar’s face, Sootpaw instinctively tensed up. His claws sunk into the rough bark of root underneath him as he turned to face Cinderstar. The grey, amber-eyed she-cat had been watching him in scornful silence ever since he’d joined the trio among the roots. But before he could wonder what he’d done to rub her the wrong way, she spoke up.
“You lot would be dead come leaf-bare one way or another; you may as well fight for your chances,” the she-cat growled, her amber eyes glaring.
Sootpaw bristled at that.
“That isn’t true!” He stood up, his back arching. “RavenClan is more than capable of looking after themselves. We don’t need—” but his voice, which only grew higher in pitch with his growing agitation, died pitifully in his throat as Aspenstar drew in a breath. It was a subtle noise, but, favoring Aspenstar’s cool tact over Cinderstar’s belligerency, he eagerly turned his attention towards her instead. He needed for them to see him as their equal, and falling for Cinderstar’s bait would only set him farther back from his goal.
“Good. We’ll need to meet some time soon to discuss—” Aspenstar's fell silent as a fresh scent leaked into the clearing. Glancing up, Sootpaw felt as if his heart had been gripped by icy talons as he laid eyes on the proud, majestic shape of Willowstar and her deputy Oaktalon. It was almost hard to believe that at one point Willowstar had been a RavenClan cat just like himself. The noble air surrounding her seemed anything but what was to be expected from your average warrior, and as she approached them in silence he felt almost overwhelmed by her presence; put simply, she was the spitting image of royalty.
“Nice to see you all doing so well on this fine leaf-fall night,” she said with a knowing glint in her eyes as she turned to look at Cinderstar. “Always a joy to see you, Cinderstar dear.” And then her green gaze turned to meet his own, and a smile tugged at her lips. It sent a chill down his spine, but he did well not to cower in her presence; Willowstar’s ego was big enough without him adding to it. “Tsk. Tsk. RavenClan just cant’s seem to hold it together, can they? What shame about… Petalflight, was it?”
Sootpaw gritted his teeth, searching for something to say—unfortunately for him, Cinderstar beat him to the punch.
“Amusing. Wasn’t Petalflight one of yours, Willowstar? Smells like deserter blood to me. As are most WillowClanners, history would tell you.” Cinderstar, obviously pleased with her jab at WillowClan’s queen, smiled pettily.
Things are getting out of hand. Sootpaw cleared his throat loudly. “It’s good to see you in good health, Willowstar. I’m sure the lake is treating you well”—he flashed Cinderstar a reproachful look—“And Cinderstar I am more than capable of speaking for myself, thank you.” He turned to look at Willowstar again, his face a stoic mask despite his building anxiety. “As for Petalflight, I’d prefer if you didn’t bring her up. She wasn’t strong enough to uphold her duties, simple as that. It doesn’t matter to me where she is or what she’s doing; like the rest of WillowClan, I suppose her loyalties lied elsewhere.”
With that Sootpaw looked aside, his heart thrumming dangerously in his chest. He’d managed to keep his tone level when addressing Willowstar at the very least, and while his words were a blatant lie, he hoped she'd believe him. After all, she knew nothing about him. The only one that would pick up on his fallacy would be FireClan, and he shot all three of them a pleading glance.
“You lot would be dead come leaf-bare one way or another; you may as well fight for your chances,” the she-cat growled, her amber eyes glaring.
Sootpaw bristled at that.
“That isn’t true!” He stood up, his back arching. “RavenClan is more than capable of looking after themselves. We don’t need—” but his voice, which only grew higher in pitch with his growing agitation, died pitifully in his throat as Aspenstar drew in a breath. It was a subtle noise, but, favoring Aspenstar’s cool tact over Cinderstar’s belligerency, he eagerly turned his attention towards her instead. He needed for them to see him as their equal, and falling for Cinderstar’s bait would only set him farther back from his goal.
“Good. We’ll need to meet some time soon to discuss—” Aspenstar's fell silent as a fresh scent leaked into the clearing. Glancing up, Sootpaw felt as if his heart had been gripped by icy talons as he laid eyes on the proud, majestic shape of Willowstar and her deputy Oaktalon. It was almost hard to believe that at one point Willowstar had been a RavenClan cat just like himself. The noble air surrounding her seemed anything but what was to be expected from your average warrior, and as she approached them in silence he felt almost overwhelmed by her presence; put simply, she was the spitting image of royalty.
“Nice to see you all doing so well on this fine leaf-fall night,” she said with a knowing glint in her eyes as she turned to look at Cinderstar. “Always a joy to see you, Cinderstar dear.” And then her green gaze turned to meet his own, and a smile tugged at her lips. It sent a chill down his spine, but he did well not to cower in her presence; Willowstar’s ego was big enough without him adding to it. “Tsk. Tsk. RavenClan just cant’s seem to hold it together, can they? What shame about… Petalflight, was it?”
Sootpaw gritted his teeth, searching for something to say—unfortunately for him, Cinderstar beat him to the punch.
“Amusing. Wasn’t Petalflight one of yours, Willowstar? Smells like deserter blood to me. As are most WillowClanners, history would tell you.” Cinderstar, obviously pleased with her jab at WillowClan’s queen, smiled pettily.
Things are getting out of hand. Sootpaw cleared his throat loudly. “It’s good to see you in good health, Willowstar. I’m sure the lake is treating you well”—he flashed Cinderstar a reproachful look—“And Cinderstar I am more than capable of speaking for myself, thank you.” He turned to look at Willowstar again, his face a stoic mask despite his building anxiety. “As for Petalflight, I’d prefer if you didn’t bring her up. She wasn’t strong enough to uphold her duties, simple as that. It doesn’t matter to me where she is or what she’s doing; like the rest of WillowClan, I suppose her loyalties lied elsewhere.”
With that Sootpaw looked aside, his heart thrumming dangerously in his chest. He’d managed to keep his tone level when addressing Willowstar at the very least, and while his words were a blatant lie, he hoped she'd believe him. After all, she knew nothing about him. The only one that would pick up on his fallacy would be FireClan, and he shot all three of them a pleading glance.
- Take life by the horns and never let go -
A full moon hung ominously in the sky; like an otherworldly watcher, it seemed to look over the congregation of cats as they wove their way through the undergrowth, pelts glowing silver in the moonlight. Padding quietly alongside a grey-furred tabby, Sunsplash glanced to either side, his skin prickling with barely suppressed excitement. Today would mark his third gathering as a WillowClan warrior, and while it wasn’t his first or his second, he was still excited nonetheless.
And, on top of that, Redwater wasn’t here to bother him. His brother had retired to the medicine den after a nasty run-in with a fox, and while Sunsplash sympathized with his brother, he saw no reason not to enjoy himself tonight. After all, it was one of those rare occasions where he didn’t have to worry about his brother breathing down his neck—always fussing over what he did and said. He was free to do whatever he wanted.
With an added vigor to his steps, he hurried towards the front of the group. Already he could hear the chattering of cats and smell the pine and moorland scents of FireClan and RavenClan. But despite his building excitement, he waited patiently for Willowstar’s signal before bounding down amongst the gathering of cats.
Let’s see…where to start? Hunting through the sea of faces for one that looked promising, Sunsplash honed in on a group of RavenClan warriors. They had separated themselves from the main throng of cats, and aside from a single FireClan tom, they didn’t look too adamant about mingling. But Sunsplash was a sociable creature. He liked a good conversation almost as much as he loved a full belly, and so, with his usual exuberant air, he padded towards them.
“Greetings friends!” Tail curling high in the air, eyes glittering, he stood before them, smiling.
…their response was anything but chipper.
A dull-furred tabby eyed him suspiciously—as if he were something unclean—and sniffed before looking away. Their companion, a black she-cat scoffed and glared at him so fiercely he took a step back. And lastly, the FireClan tom—he was no better. With raised hackles and narrowed eyes, he spat, “Beat it, fox-face!” before turning away with a grumpy harrumph.
Sunsplash blinked, dumbfounded. What’s got their tails in a twist? But, unwilling to ask, the tom turned and strode away; it didn’t take a brilliant mind to see that he was not welcomed in their little posse.
Put off but not lacking in enthusiasm, Sunsplash again scored the crowd for somebody—anybody he could talk to. And then he saw her.
Sitting alone, looking anything but happy to be where she was, was a pale calico. Her fur was matted and messy, but Sunsplash didn’t doubt that if she spent more time on it would be soft to the touch. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case though, and in addition to her weary eyes, he didn’t doubt she wasn’t in the best of moods. But she was someone, and that was significantly better than no one at all. So, donning a blinding smile, he trotted over.
“Why hello there,” he started, settling down alongside her; without any regard for personal space, he leaned closer still. “I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here. Might I ask why a pretty cat such as yourself is all alone?”
And, on top of that, Redwater wasn’t here to bother him. His brother had retired to the medicine den after a nasty run-in with a fox, and while Sunsplash sympathized with his brother, he saw no reason not to enjoy himself tonight. After all, it was one of those rare occasions where he didn’t have to worry about his brother breathing down his neck—always fussing over what he did and said. He was free to do whatever he wanted.
With an added vigor to his steps, he hurried towards the front of the group. Already he could hear the chattering of cats and smell the pine and moorland scents of FireClan and RavenClan. But despite his building excitement, he waited patiently for Willowstar’s signal before bounding down amongst the gathering of cats.
Let’s see…where to start? Hunting through the sea of faces for one that looked promising, Sunsplash honed in on a group of RavenClan warriors. They had separated themselves from the main throng of cats, and aside from a single FireClan tom, they didn’t look too adamant about mingling. But Sunsplash was a sociable creature. He liked a good conversation almost as much as he loved a full belly, and so, with his usual exuberant air, he padded towards them.
“Greetings friends!” Tail curling high in the air, eyes glittering, he stood before them, smiling.
…their response was anything but chipper.
A dull-furred tabby eyed him suspiciously—as if he were something unclean—and sniffed before looking away. Their companion, a black she-cat scoffed and glared at him so fiercely he took a step back. And lastly, the FireClan tom—he was no better. With raised hackles and narrowed eyes, he spat, “Beat it, fox-face!” before turning away with a grumpy harrumph.
Sunsplash blinked, dumbfounded. What’s got their tails in a twist? But, unwilling to ask, the tom turned and strode away; it didn’t take a brilliant mind to see that he was not welcomed in their little posse.
Put off but not lacking in enthusiasm, Sunsplash again scored the crowd for somebody—anybody he could talk to. And then he saw her.
Sitting alone, looking anything but happy to be where she was, was a pale calico. Her fur was matted and messy, but Sunsplash didn’t doubt that if she spent more time on it would be soft to the touch. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case though, and in addition to her weary eyes, he didn’t doubt she wasn’t in the best of moods. But she was someone, and that was significantly better than no one at all. So, donning a blinding smile, he trotted over.
“Why hello there,” he started, settling down alongside her; without any regard for personal space, he leaned closer still. “I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here. Might I ask why a pretty cat such as yourself is all alone?”
Word count: 553 | A Sunny Boy | Tags: Demonic and Others
template by punki of adoxography