Snowthistle's Replies

=== Introduction 9/20/21 ===
Setting: Clearing
===Snowthistle joins Sunlit Prairies===
Settings: Clearing, The Tall-Grass, The Mauve Incline
Dawnstar:
The tender molly tore her gaze after a brief hesitation from Lavendersnow's den, her ears twitching against her head. Her pale eyes still sparkled with interest, but she dared not make a fuss around the guests.
I'd appreciate the support of my Nurses during a time like this. She thought passively as she wove amongst the pelts, her shoulder muscles rippling beneath her pelt. We've been doing this for seasons, i thought she'd have known that when she joined our clan. She acts like a prisoner in her own den. Dawnstar|Dawnstar's gaze flitted to where Lavendersnow had disappeared. She watched as teo young kits scrambled towards it, stopping with a halt to paw at the vine tendrils that hung overhead. Twitching her whiskers, she padded towards them, her tail twining with the wind as she walked. She swept the two young cats aside with her tail, having them face her. They both sported two flowers, making their bodies look small in comparison.
"This is our Nurse's den, it would be best not to disturb them right now, " she mewed silkily as the two kits stared up at her with wide blue eyes. "Now run along, find your mothers. Don't get lost!"
She stifled a purr as the two kits nodded and rushed off, their thick fluffy tails bushed out with excitement. This time they tried the tunneler's den, which shivered as they bundled into it together, their mews of excitement audible from the clearing. Dawnstar softened her gaze. /Id do anything to have my own kits be that young again./ She daydreamed, her mind growing fuzzy at the idea. She remembered the moment she was able to come home with them, the pain and agony of her birth being washed away with seeping love as her two kits, similar in pelt color to herself, squirmed up to her soft belly and nuzzled her with their small muzzles. She felt her heart had burst open with love for them then, swelling so large it could no longer contain itself. She'd give her life for her kits, and her clan much the same. She saw the oldest elder as a kit she was sworn to protect, and protect them she'd do, no matter what the cost.
Dawnstar peered into different dens as cats began to split up for the tour around camp. Various pelt colors aligned within each respective den, all filled, with several cats shuffling out to sniff at the bramble sheet that covered the prey pile, their whiskers twitching excitedly. She swished her tail at the opportunity to help some cat.
She padded up to them, bowing her head respectfully as several cats stepped back to give her room. One chubby trainee aged cat was whimpering from a bramble scratch on his pad, his eyes wide and expressive as he stared at a molly who lapped at it eagerly, her ears pinned back with worry. Dawnstar sent them over a loving glance.
"Why not get that checked out by Lavendersnow? Her den is the pretty one with the fragant scents coming from it." She pointed with her tail towards it. The female tourist nodded gently before guiding the young tom away with her tail draped over his shoulders. Dawnstar's gaze ripped from the two and started to bare down on the pile, her eyes straining to see the top. The pile had grown quite large, the fresh scents of prey causing Dawnstar's mouth to water. Her maw twitched as she gripped the corner of the bramble sheet gingerly between her jaws, pulling it off slowly as to not get thorns stuck in the prey, winding the edges up slowly until the sheet of bramble was nothing more than a painful mound, its heat sinking deep into her pads as she tucked it over itself, ears twitching.
Beside her several cats stopped to stare at the pile, their eyes wide and entranced. She twitched her whiskers with amusement. /I bet they've never seen so much prey in their lives!/ She purred at the thought. She leaned up to grip a large mouse from the pile, flinging it in a pale cat's direction. Slowly, as cats finished their tour of camp, they slowly began to settle down next to each other. The experienced looking on at Dawnstar for their cue, with the inexperienced being scolded as they leaned in to take a bite. She noted that the missing cats mentally, covering the pile once more with the sheet. There would still be plenty of prey throughout the day for the cats who returned, and possibly then some.
Dawnstar rose her head to speak.
"In a clan, each cat is to thank Starclan for each piece of prey consumed, each piece of prey killed, and every life that gives its own to bring us strength. I now say thank you, to Starclan and Silkstar, for providing for us this land and each life caught within it, for giving us the strength we need to survive and keep this land safe, and most importantly we thank Silkstar for the opportunity to support even our allies outside of our clan."
Several cats bowed their heads to her after she finished, their ears twitching. Dawnstar felt a ripple of satisfaction run through her pelt as she heard multiple cats whisper thanks under their breaths before burying their muzzles in. Dawnstar looked on a moment longer, before faltering and padding towards the dense Tall Grass. Her ears twitched for sounds as she patrolled the area, her tail held high as she poked through. She commonly sniffed around the area, searching for kits straying from their mothers or stranded Tourists. After coming up with nothing, she flopped down onto the Earth, rolling her pelt in the familiar scents of home. It would be good to keep up with training with their trainees, even with the added numbers. Her mind whirled with ideas. Maybe the tourists could watch, or I can show them the best places to return in case we need them. Or I could them how to distinguish our scent from an enemies'.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle’s multicolored eyes widened as he took in the camp, so organized and reinforced. His eyes went to the ginormous prey pile in the middle, stomach giving a massive gurgle stomach the sight of all the fur and feathers. A plump hare stood out in the middle, body splayed backwards over various other small creatures, ears lopped side to side. He took a deep breath and turned his head to speak with Twinkle, his sparkly (in personality) friend. His tail went rigid when he didn’t find her next to him as usual and his head whipped around in confusion. More cats had shuffled between them most likely; her scent was still freshly on the air. His heart hammered up a beat regardless, a small haze clouding over his vision. What if she left? His brain seemed to mull over, not entirely convinced she didn’t abandon him here. The pure white tom shook his head to clear it. Ridiculous. Twinkle might have seemed less enthused the closer they got to this Clan’s camp, but she wouldn’t have up and left him.
Before he could go looking, a voice called from atop a highledge. He tilted his head to one side. The leader? The she-cat’s pelt was magnificent, cleanly and stunning with rosette patterns. His nose twitched curiously. It wasn’t unlike the fancy pelts he saw in the Twolegplace. His ears pricked forward as her words washed over him, igniting his nerves and wiping all else from his mind.
"In a clan, each cat is to thank Starclan for each piece of prey consumed, each piece of prey killed, and every life that gives its own to bring us strength. I now say thank you, to Starclan and Silkstar, for providing for us this land and each life caught within it, for giving us the strength we need to survive and keep this land safe, and most importantly we thank Silkstar for the opportunity to support even our allies outside of our clan."
The white tom found he was grinning almost dopily at her words. A slight bee stinger nailed his mind, the “every Clan” worming into his sensitive memories and sending them singing. So many questions replaced the pain: Who is Silkstar? What is StarClan? Do they thank every piece of prey? His ears twitched with murmured thanks echoed around him, eyes shifting over the many faces. The Clan cats looked happy, just as happy as the.. ah, Tourists. But they also looked stronger, leaner, and self-satisfied in a different way. Safe.
He took a deep breath and turned his head back for the golden-brown she-cat he assumed was the leader. His wife ears pricked forward. Gone! Oh rats. His tail flicked upwards, waving in the air as he took a few pawsteps forward to look for the feline. He walked forward slowly, multicolored eyes cast about. His eyes skated past many pelts—grey, red, black, striped, pale, dark, no, no—ah-ha! His eyes brightened as he saw her. Nerves no matter to the confidence he has, Snowthistle trotted towards her, his gaze settling into one of jolly familiarity, as if they were already friends.
“Hi,” he purred when he reached her, “Are you the leader here? My name is Snowthistle.” The young tom felt his paw lifting in greeting, his claws preparing to unseathe. Then he flinched slightly, nearly noticeable, and put the paw down. It was an old greeting from his past; it wasn’t likely they did it the same way.
Dawnstar:
Shuttering light filtered through the heightened grass blade and lapped the Earth with familiar, inviting warmth. The clear sky seemed to blaze in sky high above, the bright sun at its peak now and working hard to bathe each pelt with its natural warmth. The cats of Sunlit Prairies lived for it, their entire clan centered around it's burning eye. Momentarily, the tall rosetted molly felt weak. If they relied on the sun for warmth, life, and its light, what would her clan do without it? What would she do without it? The gentle waking breeze revigorated her, brushing the fur against her neck like the gentle nuzzle of a mother with her kit, soothing and therapeutic, silencing her doubts. The sun had no reason to disappear, no tales of it ever happening were known as far as she was aware, and she lived for that ignorance. There was nothing to fear as far as she was concerned. Her clan mates were well fed, her clan had not known hunger since Silkstar lead them here, and she doubted that would change anytime soon.
Prey seemed endless in their massive territory, and with the precautions given to her clan mates to respect the life nature provided, she felt as though they could stay healthy and fed as long as she remained leader, and that was something she couldn't help but take great pride in.
The dappled golden rays bathed the lanky molly as she padded through the seemingly everlasting tall grass, her pride in it strengthening the longer she spent within it. Her clan had been lead to a safe hollow with boundless protection naturally, whereas she'd heard tales of various clans working tirelessly to build a safe, protected home, the cats of Sunlit Prairies seemingly were granted it by Starclan. Because of this, she'd enforce upholding it with the highest regard as long as she could manage too. It meant everything to her that her clanmates stayed in a state of euphoria, satisfied with their lives and each blessing granted to them during it. Dawnstar herself always thought it wise to lead by example, if she sings Dawnstar|Starclan's praises first and the loudest, then it may inspire others to follow in her paw prints.
Thats how she saw her job, inspiring the cats around her to be the best versions of themselves. She never quite could grasp the concept of Icestar specifically for that reason. Why lead a clan if you hate every cat in it? What's the end goal? Her whiskers twitched with thought. She flicked her ears back against her head at the sound of the shifting blades behind her. The molly turned, her muzzle almost connecting with a white tom's own once he appeared. Startled, the molly's neck fur rose tall, then lay flat when she noticed a flower embedded in the tom's fur. How could a Tourist sneak up on me like that? She thought momentarily. She watched him eagerly, suddenly curious. He seemed ready to reach out his paw to meet her own, but he retracted it. The molly studied his heterochromic gaze, tracing the outline of his features with her soft gaze. He was a handsome young tom, with lanky features and a long muzzle. He didn't have a scent that matched any of the different types of Tourists she was used to. He must be young, around a year. I don't recall ever seeing him before.
Dawnstar purred a genuine welcome as he spoke, his tone of voice soothing the fur on her brindle spine. This cat was the farthest thing from a threat that she'd seen. She settled herself down, taking a proper settlement into the long blades of their territory, her tail curling over her paws and her facial expression kept welcoming, inviting, the most open and thoughtful she could manage. She listened closely, her ears twitching in response with his words. She leaned closer, her head lowering in a respectful bow, one no leader before her would've dared do. Though Dawnstar thought it better cats treated her as an equal rather than a matriarch, she'd always expect respect, but the best way to earn it was to show respect in turn.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Snowthistle." She rolled the word on her tongue, how peculiar. This tom seemingly already had a clan name. Was he a Tourist from Hanging Canopies? Surely not, she snorted internally. What reason would a Hanging Canopies cat have to come to my clan? Her mind did not wander to other accusations, instead leveling out and leaving her at peace, gently watching the tom through her usual calm, sweet gaze. She'd made it a point to be as positive as she could manage during The Springtide Festival, and that was a promise she'd keep. It's what's best for the atmosphere. "You've got it! My name is Dawnstar. How are you enjoying the festival thus far?" Her words were warm, her words laced with genuine curiosity, her eyelashes catching sun as she fluttered them sweetly, as if it was her attempt to come off as less threatening.
Snowthistle:
The lanky tom’s face split with a lopsided grin, which would have been charming to a she-cat older than him had it not been set in such a young face. He wasn’t so young, like an apprentice, but it was obvious he could have been a newly made warrior, give or take a month. It also wasn’t like he thought Dawnstar was old or anything, but he figured she wouldn’t be entirely taken with his beautiful features—grin or no grin. Still, it was a friendly, disarming expression, one that led another cat to trust. He was trustworthy after all, once he was loyal to something. Well… according to his past: he was loyal and trustworthy to cats that weren’t savage monsters. The grin also held a sprinkle of amusement. He had noted how close the two’s muzzles had gotten and was curious to think that he had taken Dawnstar off guard. He didn’t think of himself as stealthy usually, but perhaps he was. Or she was just focused on something else. Snowthistle took a moment to look around at the tall grass surrounding them. The light danced with the shadows, falling on the ground under their paws and their fur themselves. Dawnstar|Dawnstar’s dappled pelt became even more dappled to his eyes, the light, quite literally, lighting up patches of her fur to make them brighter than other parts. He looked at her full-faced finally, expecting to see some admiration or shock in her own gaze. Cats that saw his heterochromia were baffled at first, then intrigued. He didn’t see the usual intrigue in Dawnstar|Dawnstar’s face; she studied him but not in the same way others had. It’s not like many cats had it. A hazy memory resurfaced—one blue, one yellow. The young tom shook himself. It was high time to respond to the Clan leader. “Oh well I just got here,” Snowthistle purred back, cheerful. He saw her settle and did so himself, his shoulders two points at the side of his neck, his wide ears pricked forward to give Dawnstar all his attention.
It only mildly prickled his fur to remember he had his back to the camp. “So far though, it’s quite lovely. I can see a lot of effort is put into making the Tourists feel welcome, no matter where they come from. That’s genuine. I assume it might be part of your craft?” He cocked his head to one side, then righted it with twitching whiskers. It was an easy acknowledgement and appreciation of how Dawnstar was presenting herself to him, as kind and open as if they were old pals and not strangers. Snowthistle felt warmed by the act. “You seem to be a welcoming Clan.” He stated sweetly, thought his tail twitched to cover his paws, betraying his eagerness behind the words. He bit his tongue, not wanting to prod or reveal too much. For a moment, he felt guilt at not having Twinkle with him while he conversed with the leader. How sad would she be when he didn’t return to the Twolegplace with her? It wasn’t for him. The wild ran free and heavy in his blood and heart. He couldn’t be trapped by concrete, and monsters, and creatures walking on their hind legs. He needed to be surrounded by cats and fresh-kill and duty she would understand.
Dawnstar's Reply:
Light that freckled the young Bengal's fur shifted as her expression changed to one of joy, bright and gleaming from deep inside her chest. She shifted her weight until she settled entirely on her haunches, resetting her posture to come off as intended, tall. She'd commonly towered over many of her clan mates, and though she wasn't the strongest or most burly of cats, she could take pride in her long, graceful legs. She scanned them momentarily, her ears twitching. She had dappled speckles and swirly stripes down her arms and halted at her pale brown paws. Curling her tail into a spiral against her flank, the molly returned her attention entirely on the tom, who wasn't much shorter than herself, now that he had sat in front of her. His ears stretched tall over his head, curving along his temple and resting gently on his delicate white face. Though she noted that he did not look delicate, as much as most of the other cats here. This cat was hardened by something, she could tell by his movements. It intrigued her, her eyes adjusted and she watched him carefully.
As he spoke she took his words in, her mind slowing to process what exactly he'd said. He spoke with kindness, with a sweet expression and warmth flowing from his pelt. Dawnstar allowed the tension in muscles to ease. He's definitely welcome here. She thought as he spoke, his polite nature taking her off guard. She was used to cats such as Windsear, egotistical with a tendency to show off, his manners one of his few concerns. Dawnstar twitched her whiskers. He has stalwart shoulders that molded the frame beneath his pelt, toned along his legs and sides. He must have been very busy in his life to be so fit for a non clan cat. I wonder... "We're more than happy to have you here." She meowed after a few brief heartbeats of silence. She swished her tail, purring. She gazed on at him, completely tapping out of the rest of her surroundings, her mind whirling the long grass blades around him until she felt so focused they disappeared entirely.
The only thing on her mind was this tom and each word he spoke. She wondered momentarily if other cats focused this hard when she spoke. Probably not. She bluntly decided, dismissing the idea with a swirl of her tail. Her mandible twitched as she reset her jaw position, her long teeth now resting easily inside her jaw. She hadn't realized she'd slightly parted them and was inhaling his scent, desperately attempting to identify it. Suddenly, she realized she'd just sat silently intaking his features instead of responding. She quickly spoke up. "Mine, yes, many of my clan mates are also well versed in our traditions." She shifted on her haunches once more, her upper body swaying. Her curved spine outstretched as she spread her shoulders, her claws gripping the ground. Once the stiffness eased, the molly settled back down and continued watching him. "I take great pride in knowing my clan is well-fed, and my own life as a kittypet taught me that a well-fed cat is the best version of them you'll find." Her whiskers quivered excitedly. She didn't mention her history much around her clanmates, since that was what isolated her so much from them. Though she didn't feel that hesitant around Tourists. They knew as much as she did how little importance blood held in the grand scheme of things. Clan cats seemed entitled at the idea of it though, almost seeing themselves as superior. Dawnstar never really understood this, and perhaps for the better. It humbles them to have Tourists in the camp. She thought carefully, an ear flicking. It makes them realize they're not so different, and that they have no reason nor right to make themselves out as superior just for having a different way of life, a different culture. When the sun sets, we're all still cats, afterall. She furrowed her brow, subtly nodding at her own thoughts as she moved on.
"I feel it is important to build relationships with cats different from us." She explained, her speech slow and knowledgeable. "It reminds us that we're not quite that different, and there's always plenty more to learn." Her hazel eyes took his features once more. He was what she was referring to. "Now tell me, Snowthistle, how did you come to earn such a name?" She looked on with genuine curiosity, her face screwed up curiously as she took the time to think on it. Are there other clans beside our own I'm just not familiar with? But one thing stuck to her mind, one idea that clung to Valleystar as well when it came to Dawnstar herself so many months ago. He would be such a great asset to the clan... What would I have to do to recruit him?
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle puffed out his narrow chest a bit, the tip of his tail curling where it lay over his front paws. He knew that “more than happy to have you here” could go for any of the Tourists. Even the fact that the Clan had this Festival must mean they were moons and moons ahead of his old “Clan.” Dawnstar|Dawnstar’s warm welcome also gave him confidence that he made the right decision. He couldn’t help the relief that fell in waves as they spoke, a constant tide of salty water and gurgling foam pressing against his beating heart. And yet, this felt like more than just a usual welcome to a traveling cat coming for their celebration with prey and friends. His multicolored eyes sharpened—not with any negative emotion, but with more focus. His mind somersaulted with amusement. Is she evaluating me? he purred to himself. He was a little skinnier than he might have been at his peak, consisting of a Twolegplace diet. But the lean muscles were still present under his battle-hardened white pelt. Young, yes, but a life lived of hardship. Though his face was calm and open or joyful and excited at most times, there was also a wise hauntedness in the slope of his shoulders, the pricking of his ears. He kept himself honed in in Dawnstar, but also kept his ears open to the camp behind him. He was alert at all times. Once Dawnstar was speaking again, Snowthistle found himself leaning in slightly. He watched her stretch, admiration sparkling in his gaze. “I’m glad to hear your opinion and friendliness extends to the Clan. Pasts that aren’t entirely of one place can be beneficial,” he responded, a brief acknowledgement of her kittypet past. It made sense to him. The dappled molly would be able to teach better tolerance having known the life herself. He knew that not every Clan cat would hold the same opinion, but if the cat in power did, he knew that everyone would be supported irregardless. “I agree,” he rumbled to her next words.
The young tom’s ears pricked as she continued. He swallowed and looked away from her for a moment. His confidence wasn’t shaken, just him memories falling in like growing ice. It was not so long ago, merely two moons, that he belonged to another Clan. A Clan filled with blood and hunger and downturned eyes. One bursting with treachery, danger, misguided strength. Snowthistle breathed deeply through his light colored nose and turned back to Dawnstar. His grin had fallen off his face, but a polite expression remained. His voice also continued to be strong and peaceful. “I never thought I’d find another Clan so soon, or imagined that any others existed. I knew that our—his—Clan was based on one he had heard of, but I thought maybe they were tales for kits.” Snowthistle bowed his head, considering. “I earned my name in another Clan. Not a good one, if my being here is any indication. I would be.. inclined to tell you the full story, or at least enough details, for you to know. But I would respect if the story stayed between us and any other cats I might tell.” He looked seriously at Dawnstar, one dark green eye, one dark blue.
Dawnstar:
Shimmering light flickered and swayed at the sun slowly began to move in the sky high above their ear tips, strengthening the heat that was directed onto Dawnstar's darkened pattern. The molly glanced upwards, checking the time. We'll be fine out here a bit longer, I need to remember the ceremony at sun fall and take the first Tourist patrol beyond the moors. She considered momentarily brushing her tail against Snowthistle|Snowthistle's side, gently guiding the tom back to camp with her and having him accompany him on each patrol, she was aching to see what he could be capable of. Some cats saw no use in the Festival, but Dawnstar had made an effort to follow in Valleystar|Valleystar's pawprints, prompting those who seemed especially helpful into tasks so she could decide for herself if they could be a possible asset. While her clan wasn't exactly small, they didn't really have that many grown and able cats who could do the work necessary for them to thrive. She knew her clanmates worked as hard as they possibly could to make the best of their situations, though with a pang of sorrow she noted that cats were occasionally working themselves tirelessly to help out, herself included. An extra set of paws would be of great value to her. She listened intently as his maw quivered and slowed with speech, his words swirling in his mind, his voice somewhat calming her nerves. She felt safe around this tom, she felt she'd even feel comfortable allowing him to see the nursery, if he so wished. The way he spoke calmed her, his own energy matching her own, causing the fur along her spine to prickle excitedly. "Very," she responded with a rasping purr. "Many cats you meet from my clan will have different stories to tell, each leading them here among our ranks to thrive. I couldn't be more grateful for them." Her eyes glazed over as she stared intensely at him, a burning passion in her eyes as she addressed the topic of her clanmates.
She'd give her last breath hundreds of times over for any of them. She puffed out her chest with pride. And they'd die for me, she knew not to add, though the thought still was stuck in her mind. We're all very loyal to one another, I wouldn't trade if for a spot in the best Two-leg den. Gentle rustling blades erupted around them as a sweeping wind buffeted their pelts, a jutting wind that was usually specifically accessible only on the open stretches of moors. The molly still took in each opportunity it struck her. She breathed hard, the cool air waking her once more, her paws aching to run alongside it, something her clanmates could be seen doing quite often. She turned her attention back to the snowy tom as he spoke, her ears twitching along the tip. The deep hued Bengal flicked her tail gently behind her, a curious movement that seemed unique to her, as if she was quite used to stirring her tail for all sorts of different emotions she may be experiencing. Her long whiskers twitched as she listened on, her soft gaze growing wide as she watched him noticeably flinch, his ears flattening against his skull.
Immediately, Dawnstar swallowed a retraction of her words, guilt washing over her. I should know better by now than to ask questions like that. She scolded herself internally, her subconscious irritable. I can't just assume other cats pick names like that for their kits, like I was doing for Acacialight and Tarragonglaze. She dropped her gaze, her maw drooping. She really didn't mean to upset him. She felt her own heart pang for him, only now did she really see the pain that seemed to age him, from his sulking shoulders to the darkness in his eyes, his expression explained the feeling for her. But as he continued, she met his gaze seriously, the intense burning in his gaze matching her gentle own, his deep blue and green eyes swimming with emotion, thought, knowing... It greatly intrigued her. "Of course, you've got my promise." She meowed, her whiskers twitching as a playful thought loomed over her. "If I break it I owe you my tail and my set of whiskers, deal?" She suppressed a purr of laughter herself. She knew it likely wasn't the time for jokes, but the bitter feeling that clung to her belly made her shy away, she didn't want to give this tom any bad impressions of her or her clan. I definitely don't want him to leave... She sat up straight and pricked her ears curiously, repositioning herself now so her own scar was visible, giving him ample opportunity to speak up to her with questions if he so wished to swap sensitive information. Her own expression had now softened and as sharpened by her own soft interest, though her gaze shone a trusting hue, her pupils dilating as she looked on at him.
Snowthistle:
With the great she-cat’s promise, Snowthistle took a moment to collect himself before he began his tale. He found himself looking her over again, shadowed by the tall grass, considering his next move. Full honesty, half honesty, a sprinkle of the story? He watched her sit up straight and give him her full attention. Her hazel eyes were warm, almost melty and soft like looking at the bottom of a river through the water. The tension in his shoulders didn’t abate, but loosened. The young white tom finally allowed himself to look around, to make sure nobody was too close to them. They weren’t. Though he did scent Twinkle nearby, with another cat. Hopefully she was safe.
“All right,” Snowthistle sighed. He shuffled his paws and mirrored Dawnstar|Dawnstar’s posture, meeting her eyes and moving his maw to begin the story.
“It was called SavageClan. I have no idea if the Clan prevails or.. or not. Which you will soon understand why. Bloodiedstar was the leader, which sounds ridiculous, but that’s just how it was. It was a Clan riddled with the worst of the worst in cats. No honor or loyalty, only fighting for our food and dens and.. kits. Plenty of traditions were bloody, though none so as the Duel for Life.” Here, Snowthistle paused. His eyes began a bit unfocused on Dawnstar|Dawnstar’s face, then sharpened as he forced himself to the present to keep going. “I don’t remember everything from my kithood. I remember my mother’s smell and her eyes. I don’t remember her name, and my foster mom refused to ever speak it again. She tried to save us I think. It was futile.”
The young tom grimaced.
“The Duel for Life is a barbaric ceremony where any kits of a litter are to fight to the death. You see, as it had been explained to me later in life, the Clan just didn’t have enough resources for big litters. Only one kit could survive each. Queens would praise the ground they walked in to only give birth to one, so they wouldn’t have to do the Duel. It wasn’t so with my siblings and I—four in total. If you want my opinion, I think it was all for control with fear. We could have sustained on that large forest with something like…” Snowthistle found himself struggling for the right word, and simple used one paw to gesture behind him, back towards the bustling Clan of Sunlit Prairies. The model Clan. He knew he was rambling, not getting to the gritty details. But spilling his truth felt too painful if said plainly. Explanation was necessary.
He cleared his throat and went in. “My mom tried to save us by taking us away. We were caught, of course. My father ratted her out. As punishment for her actions, at 3 moons, my siblings and I entered the Duel for Life. I survived.” Now fresh pain blossomed in his multicolored eyes as the foggy memories of his siblings rose in his mind. “Not without blood on my paws. I’m not sure what happened next, but one day my mother was gone and my father blinded. He was executed for his supposed uselessness. I was left with my father’s new mate, who hated me.”
Snowthistle breathed deeply, allowing his chest to rise and fall three times before he continued. He squashed the flash of emotions rising to suffocate his chest—anger, sorrow, and guilt flattened between his claws. “Yet I persevered with them all gone. I learned to fight, and fight well. I rose in the ranks, even though I was so young. Then one day, I knew Bloodiedstar would be alone and challenged him.” He gave Dawnstar a wry grin, not forgetting her there.
“I won, or else I promise I would not be sitting before you. He was old and arrogant, while I was young, enraged, and intelligent. Not to be too boastful myself.”
“I ran after. No way would the rest of the Clan let me live. They came after me for at least half a moon, but I outran them. And I’d do it again to avoid their wrath. I found myself, exhausted and battered, in the Twolegplace near here less than a moon ago. That’s where I’ve been since. When my kittypet friend, who I came with, told me about here… I had to see for myself. I had to..” The snowy tom cat hesitated. He wouldn’t ask to join right now. Not after spilling his story.
The pain melted away, as did the rigidness of his narrow shoulders. He felt a breeze blow through the grass blades and ruffle his short pelt. It was almost like the universe sighing with him, as the weight temporarily lifted from his chest. His maturity was well beyond his moons, yet his wisdom was still that of a youthful cat, despite hardship. He met the bengal’s eyes with as much courage as he could muster and meowed with finality, “I’ve killed, to survive for the most part. But I’ve also killed for revenge. Dawnstar, I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to fight. I want to flourish and give my strength to someplace worthy.”
Snowthistle was done. His jaws closed, throat slightly parched from the monologue. He kept a steady two-colored gaze at the leader, waiting for judgment.
Dawnstar:
Dawnstar had sat mostly still as the tom before her began to speak, each of his words of great importance to the molly. She shut out most other thoughts she could've strayed too to instead focus all of her attention on him. She watched him through a soft smile at first, which quickly faltered, loosened, deepened, then eventually fall entirely, her eyes widening with each word. Sure, cats had many different backstories but his, or the way he described it at least, was one of the worst she'd ever heard. Her own ears twitched as each word strung her along the story, as if she was living through it herself. She nodded every few sentences, her face growing more stern.
She curled her tail around her flank, her brow furrowing. As he named his former clan, leader, and finally the tradition the molly's fur rose on her spine. A Duel for Life? She felt as if her own chest had collapsed. She didn't need to hear the rest of the story to know where he was headed with a lead like that. She flattened her ears and stared at the tom, her gaze unblinking and solid with thought, her expression unreadable. Something about what he spoke of sounded familiar, however... She winced as she watched him grimace at the mention of his mother. Dawnstar flicked her ear in response, her claws digging into the ground. Bloodiedstar, he sounds like a true nut case. She wanted to mew, though she kept silent, her body as still as stone as she swallowed shallow breaths, as if moving her ribs would make the tom appear. She watched him gesture behind him, her own deep amber gaze washing endlessly with emotion. She peered over his shoulder to where camp was just beyond the tall grass, voices still mingling together and clinging to the air. For a heartbeat, Dawnstar felt the urge to claw her way back to camp to check the nursery. She couldn't ever imagine putting a kit in danger, much less having them fight for resources. How heartless could a cat be?
As he spoke of his mother, Dawnstar|Dawnstar's eyes seemed to widen. Suddenly, she could hear another cat's voice over his own, revisiting the memory. She'd heard this tale before, though she couldn't recall if it was in the same amount of detail... Her eyes widened. How couldn't she have seen it sooner? This tom's pure snow colored pelt, the heterchromic eyes that seemed almost absent from existing clans, of course! His mother must be related to Skyrose. She felt as if her heart had cracked in her chest at the thought, and she almost wished she could wrap the tom up against her warm flank and curl her long tail over his body, protecting him like a tiny kit until he was returned to her. He must not have realized that she lives here. She thought miserably, the thought cutting her mind with sharp claws. She contiued listening, though that realization hung over her head and stayed as loud as a flight of songbirds. She examined his pelt as he spoke of his strengths, silently agreeing with him. When he spoke of the fall of the tyrannical leader, Dawnstar felt she'd had her own weight lifted off her chest. Skyrose may not know that part yet, that must be such a relief... I doubt they'd ever be tracked here. Even if they were... Dawnstar saw red momentarily, her own empathy guiding her swipes as she imagines mercilessly driving Snowthistle's former clanmates from her home, protecting him with the same intensity she would her own kits. Those cats deserved nothing but the sting of wounds.
She twitched her whiskers as he continued, the boastful comment petting her fur. She trapped a purr in her chest, suppressing it. She looked at him expectantly as he abruptly halted his words, trailing off as if lost in thought. Dawnstar blinked at him sympathetically, not guessing what he could've said next, her own questions hot on her mind. How many cats were part of the clan? Did they have a leader to replace Bloodiedstar? How long has it been since... Her pupils sharpened. How long has it been since your mother has seen you? She shook away her thoughts, listening in. I don't want to fight. I want to flourish and give my strength to someplace worthy. Now that one she caught. She awaited his ending, her own eyes blinking as she caught his own, awaiting her response. Dawnstar cleared her throat, her ears twisting somewhat outwards, the fur along her spine somewhat ruffled. What was there to say? Her words seemed to get lost in her throat. I had the same response when Skyrose told me, she thought, cringing. I sat silently for a good sunrise and a half it felt like, just collecting my thoughts. She felt she needed to do something, gently, she placed her tail upon his spine, resting so gently that the fur on his back hardly parted. She expected him to shrug her off, or maybe wince at her touch, but she didn't care.
"That must have been very difficult." She muttered softly, her voice hardly audible. She lowered her gaze, shifting her paws. "No cat deserves something so harsh, so cruel..." She trailed off, her own voice lost. How does she respond to something like that to begin with? I'm sorry? "You had great courage to do what you did, I'm sure the queens and future kits will see you as a hero. I certainly do." She looked at him gently, her eyes clouded with emotion. "I'd be lying if I said my clan wasn't thriving, but I'd also not be telling the full truth," she blinked at him expectantly, hope flooding her chest. "We'll need more cats if we are to protect what's ours for many seasons to come." She looked on at him, her throat tightening. She usually preferred to test out each new recruit first, but after a story like that, one that she full-heartedly believed, there almost wasn't a need. Not only that, but she guessed she already saw a great number of his skills shining through Skyrose. "Would you believe me if I told you that I know another cat that knew Bloodiedstar?" She wasn't entirely sure how to approach the topic, but this was her best attempt in the moment. She looked on at him, her eyes soft and quizzical.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle respected the way Dawnstar sat in silent concentration on his words. The lack of interruptions made his story more bearable, allowing him to chitter and ramble it out between his teeth without having to pause and rework what to say. He had tried not to take in any of her reaction as he spoke, lest even that distract him. But subconsciously he had noticed her widening eyes, rigid muscles, and prickling fur. It wasn’t a story for the faint of heart, but it was his. It was lived and truthful. He hoped the honesty won him some points with the great dappled leader. Her next words certainly won them for him. How else could a cat respond to something so gruesome? The white tom himself could hardly believe himself when he told it, it sounded so much like a nightmare told to keep kittens in line. He felt as her tail tip rested delicately on his back, near his shoulders. His fur didn’t twitch and he didn’t recoil, nor did his body stiffen. It had the effect he was sure Dawnstar was hoping for: the young cat relaxed marginally. It was the lightest brush of a feather, though held so much support from this near-stranger, he almost wept. He didn’t though, merely blinking in appreciation as the words choked up in his throat. He found himself nodding solemnly as she comforted him. Snowthistle let the words roll over him, taking a moment to close his eyes and feel them. “Thank you, Dawnstar,” he said with warm emotion. He, himself, had nothing more to say in response. He hoped that his body language, his forwardness and honesty, and the look in his face provided enough without needing words. As she continues, his angled ears pricked with curiosity. Speaking his past still hung like a storm cloud over his head, but he had spent the last two means attempting to make peace with it. His shining future was more interesting now. “From the limited look around, I can tell this Clan does well. I can also see it’s very large, and from what Twinkle said, so is your territory. I can imagine you’ll need more paws to help.”Snowthistle was dancing around what he truly wanted to say. Let me join, please. Would this help him in his healing journey? To join a Clan so contrasted to his birth-Clan? He thought so. Despite the horror of SavageClan, he missed being in the wild and being constantly surrounded by cats. Who was going to say it first? His eyes widened with surprise at her question when he stopped talking. He was working up the confidence to request to join when it felt like his pelt was struck by lightning, nerves set ablaze. “Plenty of cats over the years were banished if not executed… and others escaped,” he mewed tentatively. He struggled to remember their names and faces. Once, an old tom lumbered away when they all slept, citing going to the dirtplace. Another time, a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat 4 moons his senior had disappeared too. Could it be either of them? Or countless others. Even cats he may have never met. “So I’d believe you.” From Dawnstar’s words, it sounded like she knew knew them. His eyes trailed for a short look over his shoulder. The Clan.
Dawnstar:
Dawnstar leaned closer, her breath catching in her throat. Her body ached from anticipation at learning whether or not she'd said the right thing. It didnt seem to be a common occurrence for other leaders to doubt their own words so harshly after they were spoken, and despite how much thought Dawnstar put into each phrase, lighting rearranging the sentence and her head and repeating herself various times, each word still seemed wrong. She'd never experienced such pain, she wasn't sure she ever would, and she had a feeling she knew exactly what may happen to a cat like her in his paws. She winced at the thought. I'd be flayed alive, no ifs ands or buts about it. The idea stung her. This tom was strong, capable, and well spoken. She appreciated everything she'd seen so far from him, to his respectful approach to the way he listened intently, choosing not to interrupt when she spoke and registering her words in his mind and thinking through a proper response before responding. She was all too used to cats rapidly responding with words that meant no use to her, or consistent interruptions that scratched at her patience.
Yet, Snowthistle hadn't stepped a whisker out of line. From the heartbeat he was in her sights he'd done nothing but prove himself more and more charming. His pelt was clean, his whiskers clear, and thought she could now see the grief that clung to his pelt like a bush of burrs, she still greatly respected him. He shared most if not all of that horrible story with me, a cat who just a few moments ago was a whisker away fron smashing head first into his muzzle. Despite how horrible Bloodiedstar was, he still shows me respect. That showed a lot of a cat, and Dawnstar was already fully aware of this point. He had already surpassed most of her clanmates with his general respect alone, what else could he have to offer?
She was sure that question would be answered with time. She felt a warm glow in her chest as he did not shy away from her touch, instead allowing her to gently rest her tail atop his back. She purred as he thanked her, the emotion seeming to seep from the tom's pelt. She almost wished she could pull him close and lap his pelt, protect him the way he should've been from the moment he was born. Instead he'd grown into a fine cat despite his miserable circumstances, and Dawnstar could greatly respect that. She listened in as he spoke of their territory, her ears resting now as she allowed her muscles to relax. Her territory, her boundless, prey-filled territories. The thought hit her like a spark of lightning. I'm the clan leader. She reminded herself, the idea suddenly felt foreign. It had been so long since she'd had a normal conversation with a cat, one that was genuine, emotional, one where she was given the opportunity to soothe a cat with her words or kind gestures. She hadn't once thought of this tom as a Tourist since he began speaking. She removed her tail from his back before gently curling it back over her paws.
"Plenty more." She cooed, her voice soft and subtle. She searched his gaze, hoping to find the question she longed to hear come from his maw. "That is another reason I have for upholding the tradition of welcoming Tourists, every season I hope that one day..." She lost her thought, the words drying up on the tip of her tongue. We will have visitors who wish to join our ranks. She finished, her gaze trailing away from the tom momentarily to stare longingly towards camp. If we were attacked, I feel as though we are weak without the Tourists. But if they joined our clan... The idea seemed too complicated to be plausible. She looked back to Snowthistle, her eyes searing with desperation, before faltering. I can't ask for a cat like him to give away his freedom, its his decision, not mine. I don't want to sway him one way or another. But would it be so bad if..
She listened in as he spoke once more, her ears vibrating with thought. She watched him glance over his shoulders, his tone indicated surprise when he meowed them. The molly stood, her full height now easily realized. Her body stretched out long behind her, it seemed as if she was an entirely different cat when standing, her posture almost unmatched among her clanmates. Yet she held a childlike excitement in her eyes. I just hope he won't hate me for this. She wasn't entirely convinced he missed his mother, she couldn't exactly tell if he blamed her for his sibling's deaths, either. She assumed he didn't, but the doubt still stung her mind. She'd seen reunions turn for the worse on occasion, but nothing as gripping as this. "Come with me, there's some cat I think you'd like to meet."
Skyrose:
The dense, protected den did nothing to keep out the excited mewling and greetings happening during the Festival. In fact, a stream of cheery sunshine filtered through a perfectly shaped hole in the brambles, shining almost mockingly down on the face of a pure-white feline. She grumbled under her breath, no longer able to pretend that she was sleeping. The sentinel she-cat lifted her head, blinking two mis-colored eyes in the light. With a little hiss she moved to a sitting position to no longer be blinded and looked around the empty den. The last cat, a sentinel who was on patrol well into the night, was just disappearing through the entrance. Likely, that tabby felt better about themselves seeing that Skyrose would be the last in the den to join the “festivities.” How hard would it be to just hide in this den until the Tourists had all left? Probably very, considering they would be here for a while. Skyrose sighed and turned to groom her pelt, working to get any stain or lingering tussle of moss from it. A disgruntled appearance might deter anyone from talking to her, but she wasn’t so antisocial that she wanted to look like she didn’t wash. She was moodier than usual with all the new eyes and faces that were surely right outside the den. It was easier to just do her duties and stay quiet. But, I owe Dawnstar my appearance at the very least. She and her Clan have provided me much needed shelter and help. Where else would I be without them? the she-cat thought, tempering her own irritation with logic. She had only been in the Clan for a pawful of moons by now and had been dreading this event ever since she was told about it. Now properly clean, Skyrose walked slowly to the entrance of the sentinels den.
Energy coursed through her paws as she took a pawstep out into the midday sun, not quite anxious but definitely not excited. She saw kittypet collars and round stomachs, cars roughed by the life of a loner, and her Clanmates weaving in and out through them all. Her one icy eye and one sunny eye scoured the landscape before the dizzying number of pelts and scents overwhelming her senses and she looked away. The snowy colored she-cat huffed to herself and padded towards the towering fresh-kill pile, leaning forward to swipe a small mouse with her teeth and bringing it back to the entrance of the sentinels den. She kept her eyes down as she make quick work of the prey, finishing it off and beginning a grooming session. No cat had to know she had already groomed. It was an easy way to look busy while also not having to.. look about any more. A curious scent drifted to her nose, making her eyes narrow in confusion. It was familiar, but in a gut-wrenching way. Interesting..
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle had leaned forward before the shocking news about what Dawnstar knew, listening closely as both cats seemed to dance around the topic of him joining the Clan. His mind whirled with the possibilities. Did she mean that Tourists were invited to take a peek of the Clan to see if they wanted to take on Clan life permanently? It would make sense. It was admirable to open their paws to all these cats anyhow, to swap stories and experience. But if it was also a recruiting mission.. hm. That would be very smart.
But all this whipped from his mind when the leader stood. His ears pricked again, eyes grazing her outstanding height. Now standing, the snowy tom could see the full beauty of the dappled pelt and lithe limbs. He remembered her long tail tapping his back and felt even more gratitude bloom in his chest. Here was a powerful, independent she-cat who’s heart was almost as impressive as her stature. He saw her as a protective figure even more now. The ray of sun sliced through the blades of grass and highlighted her eyes as they looked down on him. He stood. The tom was tall himself but didn’t reach her full height.
Now his observations ended, he felt nervous excitement as he followed Dawnstar out of the tall grass. “Lead on,” he rumbled as he went. He would face whatever this was with courage.
They exited the tall grass together, Snowthistle trailing behind Dawnstar. He caught brief sight of Twinkle on his way out and raised his tail to her in greeting. Hopefully she saw and knew he was all right, though a bit of panic made his limbs stiff as he walked. This cat could be anyone. How had some other cat made it out of SavageClan and exactly where he ended up? He had reveled one and a half moons straight to get away, then the last half moon int he Twolegplace.
Could they have done the same?
He raised his eyes as they walked, taking in the camp with mingled awe, a small distraction from their destination. It was so well kept. All of the dens looked orderly and secure. If he looked inside, he was sure he would find something cozy too. The fens in SavageClan had been make-it-yourself. Sleeping around other cats like this, he hoped he’d adjust (if given the opportunity to).
The duo passed by the ledge where Dawnstar had made her brief speech, and he noted a vine covered hole at the base. The scent coming from it was Dawnstar’s and he clocked it as her den. Close by it was a huge den made of brambles, reinforced with wicker and moss. He looked at the dome and then his gaze very slowly traveled to the front, to an older she-cat cleaning her paws, claws out. Her eyes were closed and the scent wafted towards him as Dawnstar approached.
Something made him freeze a couple tail lengths away, just as he watched the great leader halt in front of her. What? At that moment, the snow-pelted she-cat’s gaze snapped open and up, sliding to Dawnstar, then past. Their eyes locked and Snowthistle’s chest constricted. Her scent reached his nostrils and he has flashes from kithood, as one blue eye and one yellow eye blinked at him in confused shock.
Skyrose:
Skyrose was idly cleaning her paws at this point, her pelt spotless from grooming. She always left the dirtiest part of her pelt for last, and that was usually her paws. She had fallen into the rhythmic motions of her own languishing tongue strokes and the rest of the camp noise had fallen to background. Her mind churned with thoughts of the delicious mouse she’d consumed, as well as all the Tourists. She wondered if they’d end up on a patrol with her and pester her with questions. Her eyes were always something of conversation, and her scarred pelt a close second.
It was here that the scent from earlier found her serene. First came Dawnstar, which she ignored, expecting the Bengal molly to pass on by. When it didn’t, she was prepared to open her eyes. Then, his scent? Something tickled her inner nostrils with familiarity. It didn’t take long. She would never forget the scent of her kits deaths for the rest of her life. Nor the only survivor.
Her eyes shot open and connected with another pair of mismatched over her leader’s shoulder. Skyrose’s mouth opened in astonishment, then snapped shut. One blue, one green. Just like Snowkit’s. The gaze she saw as he was stolen from her paws, yowling for her. Yet, she said nothing and looked in quizzical detachment to the Bengal leader. Her usual sharpness had faded from her body and face, left with an open vulnerability that only Dawnstar had seen the day she told her her story.
Dawnstar:
The thrumming of each thought spinning in her mind halted the second her pads touched the familar land of camp. The large molly swished her tail in greeting to few cats as she passed, her ears angled in disconnected alert attention towards a particular den. Her paws felt ready to curl into the ground and send her leaping upwards with kit-like joy and excitement. This... This was an experience she'd only dreamed of having to endure. The pain from leaving her kits in the clan, believing she'd only once see them again as fully grown kits? Though, the circumstances greatly differed, Dawnstar chose to point out that one specific similarity. The topic was fresh and rampant on her mind when she was young, one day returning and seeing the hardened faces of her once young kits. The hardship of the waiting, the wondering, the praying... It was something she was able to spare herself. Now, she could take part in that theoretical interaction. I can make things right. She pushed her own interest aside momentarily, quizzing the tom on her idea of him joining her clan could wait. Right now, she had a certain cat she couldn't wait to see.
And yet, as she opened her jaws to catch her scent she pondered something. What if it didn't go over well for either party? She wanted to make the introduction light, open, and she didn't want to dip her claws in a nursing mink's nest. She'd keep it simple, and give the two of them however much time they needed. Not for a moment did the molly doubt Skyrose was his mother.
Widening her gaze, she sped up her pace before halting next to Skyrose. As the molly looked up at her, over her shoulded than returning to her, her gaze questioning and fragile, Dawnstar lowered her muzzle to her height, her whiskers quivering with her own excitement for the pair.
"Skyrose, I'd like you to meet our dear guest Snowthistle." Her voice was gentle, if not edged with bubbling excitement. The molly stepped aside slightly so the two could get a better look at one another, her gaze flicking from Snowthistle back to Skyrose. "I recall a story you once told me when you joined the clans... One of a mother who'd once lost a kit." Her voice was somewhat hopeful, as if suddenly finding doubt. The two were the most unique pair of cats Dawnstar had ever seen, their stories so gruesomely similar. Her ears twitched against her head. She wasn't sure there was much else that needed to be said. She blinked encouragingly at Skyrose, before beckoning Snowthistle over with her tail. Around them, the bubbling energy of Tourists began to fade as her deputy seperated out patrols, taking away most cats from the camp, leaving behind only a few clan cats who retreated to their dens to get some rest for later patrols. The camp was mostly silent now, as if without a cue her clan mates knew to leave them in silence. Dawnstar almost erupted with a purr of gratitude. I love their timing.
Snowthistle:
The raucous caw of birds rang in Snowthistle’s head, imagined panicked feathers fluttering against his memories. As the dappled leader stepped aside and mother and son were able to gaze fully at each other, the white tom felt.. unsure. So much had happened when he was a kit, that it felt fragmented. When he told Dawnstar he didn’t remember his mother’s name, it was true. Yet, as “Skyrose” fell from the tall she-cat’s maw, he felt a jolt go through his pelt. He remembered suddenly, transported back to that period of his life—cats growling her name, hissing it with silky satisfaction. Here she was in front of him. His mother. He couldn’t move.
Skyrose:
Was she supposed to be the one to step forward? As the eldest, as the one who gave birth to the lanky cat standing now only a tail-length in front of her? Skyrose rose slowly to her paws, gaze darting to watch as Tourists and her Clanmates moved to their own activities. She wondered briefly how this could be possible, considered poking a claw in her pelt to wake up from this dream. She watched as Dawnstar beckoned him forward and the tom approached even close, raising his chin a tick upwards, appraising. He’s tall, taller than me, she thought to herself, the thought a broken edge. How old is he now? How long has it been? Her breath came slow and even. They hadn’t broken eye contact yet. Fox-dung! Say something, Skyrose. Don’t be a mouse-bellied coward. “Snow…thistle,” she meowed finally, her tone mildly raspy. “You’ve grown up.” A mask came over her face, shuttering out the vulnerability. Her mismatched eyes remained glistening with unshed tears , however. “You lived.”
Snowthistle:
It was obvious this was his mother. Their scents, though different, held a similar note underneath. Her eyes, two different colors, reflected his. She had left him and never returned; she had blinded his father which got him killed. He broke their eye contact to let it roam down her snowy pelt, to notice all the scars criss-crossing it. He thought of his three dead siblings and heard an echoed, anguished call in a voice so similar to how she spoke now. Snowthistle had not gotten this far, intact, with a cold heart. He would have stayed in SavageClan otherwise. Why had he killed Bloodiedstar? For his siblings? For… her?
“Mom,” he mewed back, almost feeling like a helpless kit once again. Her words had fallen on his ears like music despite their hidden grief. I lived, and so did she. He blew a deep breath out between his teeth and stepped forward cautiously, afraid to spook Skyrose as if she was a new fawn.
Snowthistle leaned his head forward and lightly touched his pink nose to her’s. Their eyes fluttered closed at the same time and both stayed present in the moment for one heartbeat, two heartbeat. Then Snowthistle stepped back and looked shyly at Dawnstar. “I suppose I definitely believe you now. That you knew something of my story.”
What was there to say with both of their mouths dried up with emotion? Too much existed in the space between them. Even so, Snowthistle found his claws slipping out and gripping the hard earth beneath his paws. He had been determined before even coming here to join the Clan of Sunlit Prairies. Now, it seemed as if some-cat watching over them had their paw in this story. What could it be called, other than destiny, that Snowthistle would end up where Skyrose had found home?
Trying to shake off the swirling emotions I’m making his stomach almost queasy, he looked at Dawnstar squarely.
His youthful face was glowing with reenergized confidence, his thin tail swishing at his hind legs. “If you would have me, Dawnstar, I believe we’ve been beating around the undergrowth. I would like to join your Clan.” His sidelong glance to Skyrose found her eyes widening a fraction, though she said nothing in response and simply stood still and wondering, as if still in shock.
Dawnstar:
The silence of camp was defeaning as Snowthistle and Skyrose sat, staring at each other with such intense, overwhelming emotion Dawnstar felt she could almost taste it. Though it felt at the same time like a dark cloud loomed over both of them, still shocked whole-heartedly by the other. Dawnstar could feel her claws itching as she watched the two of them respectfully, her ears twitching as they spoke. She couldn't help the bright glow that flooded her chest as the two seemed to recognize each other, their words barely audible to Dawnstar herself. Yet, she wasn't bothered. She recognized easily when her input wasn't necessary, and for a time as tender as this one? She curled her tail neatly around her paws, the tip tapping against them as she watched on, her mind numb to whatever may come next.
Yet as the two exchanged words, Skyrose recognized her son almost immediately, confirmed when Dawnstar spoke of his name. Now fully realizing the intense pad and prod of their emotions, Dawnstar herself almost felt weak with grief. She looked on softly at Skyrose, reading her expression briefly as if trying to comprehend what she may be thinking. It was like a light being snuffed out, the doubt loosening her chest. She pondered momentarily if Snowthistle would be upset with her for introducing him back to his mother, wondering if he shared his own grief about her that the Bengal molly possibly oversaw. Yet as the two grew closer, her tail swirled with joy. The desperation in Snowthistle's mew when he muttered "mom" made Dawnstar's heart crack. She almost wished to step away, leaving the two too peacefully reunite and continue to speak. Yet as the two touched noses, Dawnstar felt the anticipation grow cold on her paws, rooting her into place. She wasn't entirely ready to leave Snowthistle alone, not yet. She shuffled her paws when Snowthistle meowed to her, her gaze flickering slightly as she raised her head to meet his own. She bowed her head to his words, not finding the need to respond. The tension grew thicker then, the young tom spinning around to look directly at her now, his heterochromic eyes swimming with feeling. Dawnstar wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn't that. She blinked at him, unsure of what to say initially. She searched for the words, once more being caught off-guard by the tom. Her mind whirled with thought. Yes.
"How about this," she began, her voice somewhat muted as she searched for it. She cleared her throat, looking softly at Skyrose, her gaze encouraging, inviting, friendly. All the emotions she wished she could transfer to the molly were present in her deep amber eyes, as if willing her on for whatever she had to say next. "You can make that decision after seeing the territory you'll be protecting. Skyrose, care to join us?" She imagined a spot in the territory where it may be nice for the two of them to bond once more. The idea of a mother reunited with her kit, spending their first moments back together with showing off the home they cherished so dearly? She almost wanted to run out of camp, praying that the two would chase her. She could already picture the amazement on his face when introduced to something so natural for the Sunlit Prairies cats, something that seemed so out of reach for them once, now almost begging the two to make a den there. She knew she definitely was at that point. She couldn't imagine denying the tom's request to join the clan, even if they weren't short on cats. The idea of forcing either of them to make a decision like that was immoral. She swished her tail excitedly, her ears quivering. This was the aspect of her job she loved the most. As she swung her tail to beckon the two alabaster felines forward, her maw quivered. She greatly valued the Tourists for various reasons, but having an opportunity like this? It felt like once in a lifetime. She almost felt like a mother eagle hiding her chicks beneath her wings, keeping a watchful eye out. She'd continue to welcome in as many more chicks as it took to make her clan thrive; and to reunite every family she could. She rose to her paws, her pads soft on the hollow ground, the camp permanently flattened by the placement of various paws.
She had a specific spot in mind for them, The Mauve Incline. It was a beautiful moor spot that she favored the most throughout the territory, the beautiful colors easily swaying her. The area was warm as well, it would give her a good idea just how far Snowthistle was willing to test his comfort zone. She didn't have a lick of a clue on what his former territory may have looked like, though she imagined it like many other clans, blocked from the open sky. That's why she believed her clan to be the most sacred, afterall. The territory they inhabited did not hide them from Starclan, and she whole heartedly believed if Starclan wished to show their disapproval, they'd have easy reign to strike a cat down where they stood. Yet the sky stayed clear; entirely vacant of danger. Starclan must approve of her decision to reunite Skyrose and Snowthistle permanently.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle didn’t know the intricacies of Clan life—proper Clan life, that is. Oftentimes in his old Clan, a cat could just show up and start hanging around, as long as they proved their claws were sharp enough to fight for food and protection. Boldly asking for a claim to this one, to join, was his only method. It was blunt, but not arrogant. If anything, it was cute ignorance. He knew absolutely nothing about Sunlit Prairies beyond what Twinkle had told him, or what he’d heard from other Twolegplace cats. He knew vaguely about their large land and the roles they had. Something about separated duties and “trainees” at 6 moons? It was dizzyingly exciting. At Dawnstar’s offer, his heart didn’t deflate but burst (in a good way). The young white tom pricked his ears towards the leader and grinned. His anxiousness of meeting Skyrose became a small pinprick in his heart, a sealed away memory to revisit once he was alone. His face fully turned the the dappled molly, one blue eye glanced sideways at the older white cat next to him. Would she agree? As much as he aches for closeness with his mother, he found himself struggling to connect this cat with her. The scent was the same, as were her eyes. But, it had been over ten moons hadn’t it? They were strangers. “That sounds reasonable,” he finally meowed to Dawnstar, attempting to cover his kit-like enthusiasm, his lithe tail curling up towards the bright, hot sky. His paws momentarily kneaded the ground. Oh stars! This meant he would be able to run the territory that might be his soon! It had been a long time since he had felt safe anywhere, let alone the wild. When the elder stepped forward, towards the Clan entrance, his paws didn’t hesitate to follow. He glanced once over his shoulder to see if Skyrose was following, the returned his attention to the trail ahead.
Skyrose:
Skyrose’s ears twitched as Snowthistle addressed Dawnstar. She remained standing as they briefly interacted, her heart thumping. Mom. Her mind whispered the words against her emotions, brushing them with painful love. Her nose twitched, unbelievably taking in the scent of her only kit. Though her face had closed down on the vulnerable emotions, her different colored eyes glowed with them. At Snowthistle’s words, she realized he must have shared his story with her already. What confidence.. it took me a few days of rest here before I could talk to Dawnstar about what happened to me. She wasn’t sure what this meant. Had Snowthistle had an easier time at SavageClan once she left? Her stomach twisted at the thought. But why would he be here if things hadn’t gone sour, as they always did there. Suddenly, a harsh craving squirmed under her pelt. The sentinel she-cat would have to find out what happened to her son. Her eyes widened with surprise when he asked to join, tail tip twitching back and forth thoughtfully as she stood still. Her gaze instantly went to the kind leader, anticipation making the tip of her whiskers hurt. As far as she was aware, Snowthistle had just gotten here. It had taken several days to be officially a Clan member for Skyrose. If he was accepted so easily, it meant Dawnstar saw potential. Or was it because of Skyrose? She considered this, mulling it over. Dawnstar’s encouraging eyes met her’s. Skyrose betrayed no emotion this time but felt her chest warm and melt at the same time. The deep amber of the leader’s eyes almost seared more than the sun above. At the request to join, she gave a small nod of her head. Words were difficult right now. When Snowthistle sprang forward to follow Dawnstar, Skyrose swallowed a gulp of saliva and trotted after them, head slightly down. She found herself marveling at young Snowthistle, at his white pelt of nearly identical color and the strength in his wiry body. He was a survivor all right.
Dawnstar:
The lithe leader rolled her shoulders as she awaited agreement from the two alabaster felines. She couldn't help herself but send curious glances in Skyrose's direction as she joined them, wondering what she had to say about all this. She could only guess how she felt, which she knew for a fact wasn't good enough. No cat knows pain like Skyrose. I just hope this isn't too much for her to handle. She cared deeply about her clan mates, all of them. No matter where they came from, no matter how young, old, or how fragile, Dawnstar would give each life she had to see them prosper, to see them succeed. Life is so much shorter for my clanmates. She couldn't help but glance behind her to where Snowthistle followed, his expression somewhat unreadable. They have to endure hardship after hardship, and they don't even get a second chance at life, even after the first has failed them. The thought was icy in her mind, raking her internally with frigid claws. That's the only grief I have with Starclan. Every cat should be given a second chance. Who knows how much can happen in one life?
Her mind wandered to a familar set of azure eyes, piercing and seemingly capable of reading her mind. The pretty snowshoe sentinel she'd promoted, a cat she greatly valued, one of her most crucial clanmates. Lavendersnow has endured nothing but hardships. I'll never forget the look on her face when she was promoted. Twilightplume... She didn't want to think of her past mistakes. She shook the thought from her head, guilt washing over her. I doubt she blames me for how he acted. Her mind wandered as her paws first stepped into the Tall Grass, a winding path ahead of them. The camp entrance had been decorated for the arrival of the Tourists by the trainees and kits, some of which were clearly more enthusiastic about the Festival than others. Her gaze slid approvingly over the arcway, her eyes glowing with pride in her clanmates as she strode deeper into her territory. Her territory, that thought still seemed so foreign. Her inexperience was only really present when it came to that. While not a weak leader, sometimes she wondered the necessity of all the land. The clan ancestors picked it for the sole purpose of promising to their kin, their friends, their future kits, and every kit to later be born in this territory the best chance at life, a life where they would know not a heartbeat of starvation. Yet, to keep the balance of nature, we still need to be respectful of the life Starclan feeds us with. Her ears pricked curiously as she bowed her head, travelling through the small arcway with Skyrose, her clanmate, and Snowthistle, a Tourist, trailing slowly behind her.
Momentarily, her whiskers twitched with amusement at their trust. I shouldn't be shocked by Skyrose trusting me, but more Snowthistle. For all he knows I'm leading him straight to a fox's den. She blinked suddenly as the arcway that led to the camp entrance opened into a massive field, with shorter grass that could be seen over for miles, depending on the size of the cat, that is. Due to her immense height, she could clearly see The Violet Stretch from where she stood, her tail quivering. She glanced back over her shoulder, only a brief warning to the two white cats before she took off. They'd had multiple heartbeats to look off into the territory if they so desired. I don't plan on walking anywhere in this territory. Her subconscious purred. Much too large. Besides, what cat doesn't love a good midday sprint? Her mind wandered as she watched on, her tail tip twitching curiously. But what cat needs this much territory to themselves? Her mind seemed to come to a screeching halt, stranded as it reached desperately for answers. If it came down to it? I'd split my territory with other cats. I just don't believe my clan will ever grow large enough to require this much territory. Without hesitation, she sprung forward into the grassy slopes leading towards a pretty, purple-enveloped hill in the distance. Overhead, the sun lapped and bathed their pelts lovingly, warming them to a very comfortable degree. Her back arched and stretched, her paws reaching for each new stretch of land and placing down harshly with a light thud. Behind her, she showered uprooted blades and dust in her wake. Her tail streamed behind her, her whiskers almost merging with her cheek fur as they plastered against her face. Only now was her full muscle size recognizable.
As she pelted onwards, she kept her sight pinned to the territory ahead, as focused as if she was hunting. She only briefly slowed down once she realized she'd sped off far ahead of the other two. She'd always been a physically fit cat, but her speed was unmatched. No clan cat had ever come close to beating her in a race, making her perfect for The Moor-Runner council. She led her clan mates pridefully then, and even before she became deputy, or part of the council she was greatly respected. She fed off of being busy, finding it very easy to slip into work. She'd always had her paws full with something, whether it was being picked for every patrol or sorting issues between her fueding clanmates, and she loved it like that. She wouldn't change it for the world. As she contiued onwards, she briefly halted once they had reached The Violet Stretch, her whiskers quivering. She ran often, so it was quite rare for her to feel exhausted darting from each territory to the next. Though she didn't doubt for a second that she'd never be able to reach the end of her territory and return without a large amount of rest in between. And that was the problem with it. Anxiety clawed at her belly as she reached the peak of the slope. Around her, bees buzzed on flowing flowers and warm stones were embedded into the ground around her, the enveloping scents of the territory wrapping around her large head and invading her senses. Though she rather enjoyed it, sometimes she wondered. Would it be less safe without them? I feel like most cats are afraid to tread on a bee. Her muzzle parted to intake the wafting scents around her. Moments later, Snowthistle and Skyrose appeared, trailing after her. She blinked kindly before she slowly began to pad down the opposite side, her tail churning with the wind as it wrapped her body with it's cool breeze. Her amber eyes glittered gold in the direct sunlight, her brown orbs, slit down the center by black pupils.
She scanned the terrain ahead, her head raised as she walked with confidence, her paw steps heavy and meaningful, as if she was attempting to ward off enemies of cats already. Her ears swivelled and spun, twitching at any noises, her eyes wide to catch any movements. She looked similar to a cat on patrol, one with the confidence to shred the pelt off anything that came into her path. Yet nothing came, as per usual the terrirory was peaceful, silent, completely serene. When she wasn't actively hunting for danger, something she hadn't gotten the chance to do since she was a young moor-runner, she was frolicking, playing. She remembered chasing Applebreeze down this very hill, launching herself at him with bunched limbs before the two of them rolled down together, playfully giggling as they landed at the bottom in a glorious field of flowers. She greatly respected this territory, so many happy memories to be shared by every clan cat. As she reached the bottom, her tail flicked to indicate the two to follow, her pads felt warm on the dirt passage way as her fur brushed various stems, her mind buzzing from all the scents. She continued on, leading them towards the center of the territory, where the flowers grew the highest. She rose a paw to part them, her cool gaze investigating for any signs of damage, her maw slightly locked ajar as she looked for scents. And yet, absolutely nothing. She gazed warmly at the two, clearing her throat to allow it to travel towards the two snow-furred cats.
"This, is The Mauve Incline. The territory with the hill? That's The Violet Stretch." Her chest grew warm as she readied herself, overflowing with information to share with Snowthistle. Though Skyrose had already been taken to see the rest of the territory when she initially arrived, she imagined it felt foreign to her now, since her long lost son was here padding alongside her. She made sure to give them plenty of space to talk if they wished, and Dawnstar noted to attempt and keep from listening to their words as she lead them through the territory, though she wasn't entirely convinced she could help herself. She'd always been somewhat nosey, which wasn't ever usually a problem for a clan leader. She could be a nosey as she'd like. Yet, she expected cats to respect her privacy, she'd do the same for them. Her dappled pelt grew a rich, honey-brown, her dark, nearly black spots now revealing red undertones along her spine where a strip of fur lined her back and halted her tail tip. The upper part of her body seemed paler in color now to the rest of her, the mix of colors on her pelt giving her a stunning appearance. With the overhead light each muscle on her pelt was visible, with dark lines indicating this on her pelt where the shade caught her muscular form. Her forearms looked large, her hips wide and sharp, yet her flanks still were round and healthy, her ribcage barely visible.
Her chest was solid to the touch through her feather-soft fur, the glossy sheen of it glistening and shifting as she breathed. Yet she didn't take note of her appearance herself, and she never really seemed to notice other cats staring. In her mind, she wasn't a purebred cat, created for the sole purpose of gaining something for the two-legs. Even with each award she won for her appearance alone, and each Bengal from the contests attempting to get to know her, she still stayed grounded, not allowing her beauty to get to her head. She glanced expectantly at the two as they caught up to her, two green and two blue eyes scanning the territory ahead. Dawnstar felt a rippling purr in her throat. "This territory was named by Tulipstar, and is favored by the moor-runners." She meowed, her voice steady and thoughtful as she went over the history in her head. "The Violet Stretch? Tunnelers. The reasoning behind it is the warmth the sun brings to this spot in the territory, while it grows coolest on The Violet Stretch." Her whiskers felt cool as she spoke, her damp, twitching nose and swishing tail tip the only give to her excitement. She always loved this part of her job. "It was named that by Meadowmoth, Silkstar's only kit. It's been said that she thought the arched hill looked like the back of a cat stretching." Her eyes shown with love for the territory and for the history behind it. Not all parts of the territory was rich was history, some more amusing than others, some that left bloody stains on their history. Yet each one played a significant role for her clan, providing for them.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle cast one more glance over his angled shoulders to look for Twinkle, hoping that she would be safe without him around. He knew she would be fine with the Clan cats, but he still felt uneasy. Now it was like he was abandoning her. She had to understand it wasn’t like that though. This was important. He turned his head around as they exited the arc, his multicolored eyes flicking upwards to admire the entrance with its tucked in flowers and vines. This Clan has a splendor for decoration, he thought with amusement. Seriously, it’s like completely different than SavageClan. It was a relief and a weight off his back to make this realization. He was too busy with his head up, admiring everything in the entrance that he nearly bowled into the back of Dawnstar, stopping short only when he felt her tail whip upwards a whisker-length from his muzzle. At that, the pure-white tom cat turned his head to the side to take in the breathtaking territory. At his height, Snowthistle was able to see a bit farther into the territory than a shorter cat. He looked over plains of short grass and pricked his ears curiously at the hint of purple of the horizon. Without thinking, his paws kneaded the hard ground beneath them in anticipation. Alert as always, he noted the look the great dappled leader threw the two kin and felt his muscles spring in response as she dashed away. He instantly lengthened his stride to a sprint, feeling his legs constrict and release with ease as he raced after Dawnstar. His ears flattened against his head and he swerved to the right slightly, making sure to keep on trail but missing the flying debris kicked up by the powerful she-cat at the front. He puffed out heavy breathes several fox-lengths in, realizing his stamina wasn’t quite up to par. There wasn’t much room to run around the Twolegplace, with all the obstacles in the way and having to be careful where you put your paws. As a result, it seemed that Snowthistle could not last as long as he used to at a full run. By the time he realized this, he noted that Dawnstar was slowing ahead of them, though she was already much farther than he, or even Skyrose.
He briefed a look behind to see the smaller feline stoic, at least a couple cat-lengths behind him, and her flanks rising and falling rapidly. He blinked his eyes in surprise. She wasn’t fast like him, and especially not like Dawnstar, but she had paced herself and didn’t look as if she took too much strain. Snowthistle’s mouth twisted curiously. What role did she play in the Clan to be so calm after an exhilarating run through the wild?
Not for he first time, he found himself looking at the leader’s pelt. In the direct sunlight, it changed from a mysterious beauty of the Tall Grass shade to blindingly astonishing. Her eyes seemed to almost glow and red undertones blazed out at him from around the dark spots of her pelt. He cast his mind back, trying to search for if he had seen anything like it before. But, even with his familiarity with kittypets and their specially groomed pelts, he hadn’t seen anything like it. Huh, he chuckled to himself, how many cats are chasing after this one? It wasn’t with jealousy or interest that he thought it, only mild curiosity and amusement. Other than that, she was also obviously strong and healthy, an obvious choice to take command of this Clan. That wasn’t even all too; strength was one thing, but her kind heart she had already shown him was an important addition. He also suspected her intelligence.
Snowthistle twitched his ear at her gratefully for waiting. Occasionally, he panted, though now that they walked, he was regaining his stamina rapidly. He nodded his head and finally took in the piece of territory they stood.
The young cat sucked in a breath of disbelief as the field of rustling, vibrant purple plants stretched out in front of them, dotted her and there with warm looking patches of grass and rock. As he listened to the history lesson, Snowthistle didn’t speak a peep. He was content to listen and absorb. He wasn’t looking directly at Dawnstar, but allowing his gaze to wander. He breathed in the heady scent deeply, and noted the lack of prey-scent. He filed that bit of information away.
“This is incredible,” he finally breathed to Dawnstar, giving even Skyrose an excited look. How long had she been here? While her face remained almost stony, her eyes were watching him carefully and with some sparkle. She was gauging his reaction at the same time the warm leader was. “I can’t believe how much…” he trailed off, overwhelmed. SavageClan had lived in a simple stretch of forest, so large he hadn’t seen nah other territory types until he had run from them. This was, so different. He felt his muscles screech with want to run again. The white tom didn’t fully understand the terms Dawnstar was using, but he could guess.
Moor-runners would be like Dawnstar, so easily bounding through the territory. He likes this spot a lot. Perhaps that meant he’d be a moor-runner? Tunnelers had to have something to do with tunnels, though he didn’t see quite yet what use that’d be. Casually, he looked to his mother, “Are you a tunneler or moor-runner?”
Skyrose:
As promised, Skyrose followed after her leader and son obediently. Her stomach kept doing tiny backflips, causing her mouth to water with nausea, but she pushed on. This couldn’t be the hardest thing to do in her life—but it was all right to be nervous, wasn’t it? Terrified even. As they exited the camp, she felt no inclination to gaze upon the landscape she did every morning and instead waited patiently for Snowthistle to take it in. When the two cats sped ahead, the sentinel she-cat huffed a breath and leapt after them. She knew Dawnstar’s speed from word of mouth and seeing it in action, but she was unprepared for the young tom’s, her son’s. He wasn’t nearly as quick as the leader, but he was faster than she. Instead of turning it into a race, Skyrose sped over the ground fluidly, thumping her paws down in even strides to her own set pace. She wasn’t stretching or straining her healthy muscles, merely keeping speed. It was a tactic learned from her fellow sentinels. As fighters, they had to conserve energy. Sometimes, emergency called for speed, but if a cat was worn out by the time they reached battle, they’d have to rest on the sidelines anyway or exhaust themselves after one move.
Her strategy meant the older she-cat arrived behind Snowthistle a few heartbeats after he found Dawnstar. Her whiskers twitched forward, no longer pressed against her face with the cooling wind, and she stalked towards the two cats. Ah. The Mauve Incline, she meowed to herself, just as Dawnstar was introducing it to them both. Moons ago, when she had joined, Skyrose had gotten the territory tour. With the size of the territory, she still found herself murmuring the names of the territory to herself as she passed, committing them to memory. The snowy cat didn’t have the luxury of growing up learning about the territory or hearing the histories; she started from the beginning when she came. Her mismatched eyes slid to Snowthistle.
The same for him.
She listened respectfully, ears pricked forward, as Dawnstar went through some history, flicking her smooth tail over some of the purple flowers. Skyrose herself brushed against a few of them, pleased at the wha they scratched delicately into her short fur. The yellow sun was hot against her exposed pelt. As a sentinel, she traveled all over the territory, but she still preferred the shadier parts of the Clan. Finally, her son’s clear mew rang in her ears and she looked at him, catching his eyes. A jolt went through her. It was almost eerie how much of a start she could get from looking at one blue eye, one green. It also brought back the day he opened his eyes, curled protectively among his three other siblings. She fought hard to keep the grief from clouding her face.
“Neither,” she rasped back, leaning her chin down to clear her voice. “I’m what’s called a Sentinel. We’re the fighters of the Clan.” Almost self-consciously, she looked at the warmth on Dawnstar’s face and flexed one of her paws towards Snowthistle, claws slipping out easily. “We defend every cat in the Clan, and any visitors as well. We patrol the territory for threats or enemies and are the first to battle.”
Old skills dies hard. Skyrose was never the best fighter in SavageClan, but she was clever and had experience. It was an obvious choice when she came here. She looked at Snowthistle’s long legs and remembered his speed. Perhaps he would choose differently; perhaps he shoulder. She still knew nothing of what had happened to her young son after she had left, but she imagined his claws would be stained red if she peered close enough.
Dawnstar:
The tall molly curled her tail as the other two felines caught up to her, her mind buzzing as she looked over the territory, her ears twitching. The long, winding purple-petaled fronds swayed and swerved, each beautiful color glowing vibrantly in the sun, creating something of a purple cloud when viewed from afar. Lavender, clematis, wisteria, all different types of flowers flourished here, their scents clinging to their pelts and embedding itself within them. The warmth of the sun advanced the scents tenfold, drowning out any other scents that may inhabit the spot. The area was generally very safe, as many creatures seemed to be warded off by the amount of bees and the nose-blindness that could be experienced while in the territory, though it still felt somewhat odd to be standing where she was, without a single worry as to where threats could be lurking.
It had been many moons since a predator has come close to The Mauve Incline, much more since they've been hostile. Prey was easily taken off guard here if they weren't searching, their noses unable to differentiate between the strong flourishing scents and the cat's own. She twitched her ears at Snowthistle's reaction, her gaze sliding across his facial features. Her whiskers quivered as his gaze widened, his heterochromic gaze glittering beautifully in the light. She suppressed a light purr at the slight compliment, the territory was massive, he had hardly seen the half of it. Her tail tip twitched as the two conversed behind her, her gaze instead focused ahead. As soon as Skyrose finished her explanation, she nodded to her respectfully before going on.
"Through the moons our clan has adapted a new way of hunting, stalking, and fighting. With these types of territories, our pelts hold the strongest earthly scents, almost impossible to pick out as a cat." Her eyes gleamed as she spoke, her pads rubbing the soft grass as she continued on, waving her tail for the two to follow. She strayed ahead, giving distance between herself and the two cats padding behind her. She stopped at a rabbit hole, partially hidden in the overgrowth, covered with a tendril of purple seed-like petals. The vine swayed as Dawnstar lifted it with her tail, revealing the small hole, large enough for a small cat to squeeze into. Dawnstar's gaze slid from the hole to the two snow-pelted cats as they caught up with her.
"You'll have to get used to searching for rabbit holes around here." Her tone was matter-of-fact, though grave in nature. "There's been many instances of trainees falling in and wrenching a paw, or even worse." Her ears flicked back against her head to express the intensity of her words. She removed her paw and allowed the tendrils to pool back into their original positon, her light flank huffing in the scent as it did so. What wafted out was somewhat surprising, milk scent?
Dawnstar rose her tail for the two of them to halt. She lowered her body to a crouch, her ears twitching as she screwed up her eyes, burying her muzzle into the rabbit's den. She looked quite silly in this moment, the massive rosetted molly with her face half-way hidden beneath the Earth's surface, her whiskers plastering against her face as she sniffed around. There was barely room for her shoulders to fit through the hole, let alone the rest of her body. The massive leader widened her eyes at the sight of nestling kits, their tiny pink muzzles letting out soft whimpers. Immediately, Dawnstar backed out, the fur along her cheeks brushing backwards, sticking out in various directions. She looked down at the hole with a loving expression, before settling herself beside it and beginning to lap her paw, washing the fur on her face back into place with tender swipes. She gazed at Snowthistle seriously, her gaze growing stern.
"It is our job to respect nature. We may hunt the rabbits for our prey, but if we hunt their kits the prey will move on to other territories, or be wiped out due to overhunting. It is part of the Prairies' Promise to respect the life of prey, and give thanks to Starclan after you catch any creature." She swished her tail knowingly.
"Kits are not sustainable food, and as easy as it seems to pull them out of this den now, they'll feed many more bellies when they're fully grown. We do not want badgers in our dens eating our kits, we shouldn't do the same for other creatures." Her explanation was soft, yet laced with a bitter sense of wisdom, as if she herself had seen the outcome of over hunting. The concept alone was foreign to some cats, having too much prey to hunt. Yet Dawnstar refused to allow that to sway their decision. Silkstar forced me to take an oath when I became leader to respect this land and care for it as it is now my own. I just hope when my time sets on this moor, that whoever rises to take my place will follow that tradition. For now, this is how things should stay.
Shuffling her paws, she reached for different flowers, resting some over the hole to mark it. The bundled herbs would hide the milk scent easier. Lifting a paw, she wiped pollen against the edge, on the entrance walls and over the pathway. She hoped their scents were hidden well enough that the dam would return to her kits, instead of being warded off. I'll need to come back and check to make sure. She noted, her ears flat against her skull as she swished her tail for them to move on. She pricked her ears, her eyes glittering with curiosity. She glanced towards the alabaster tom, her tail lightly brushing his shoulder as she slowed to meet him. "Are you hungry?"
Snowthistle:
The young white tom looked seriously as Skyrose raised her paw to flex her claws at him. He thought briefly about if he should be a sentinel, how he knew he would have the skills for it. While fighting wasn’t the only thing that helped him rise in ranks in SavageClan, he knew that it was one of his best attributes. Then he thought of blood welling up between class dug into soft flesh and felt his stomach flip with nausea. He looked away from his mother, into the soft face of Dawnstar, a weird feeling of attached comfort coming over him as he stared at the dappled molly. Not trying to be rude, especially have being reunited, he meowed softly in response, “It sounds like an important job,” then added awkwardly, “You’re very brave for protecting the Clan, S-Skyrose.” He stumbled over her name, uncomfortable with calling her mom again in the vulnerable way he did earlier.
Snowthistle was relieved when the great leader began to speak again, swiveling his head fully to listen to her.  He nodded slowly, trying to keep focused as slow, happy bees buzzed around them to the purple flowers. His tail-tip twitched languishingly against his hind legs. The sun was blazing warm against his back, but he didn’t find it uncomfortable. It was clear to him as Dawnstar explained briefly the unique way this Clan adapted, that he would have a lot to learn and unlearn.
He followed her, keeping a few pawsteps ahead of Skyrose as they walked and being careful not to let their pelts accidentally brush. Now that the initial surprise was over, an awkwardness twinged the air between mother and son. It would take time for them to understand what kind of relationship they might have. The tom cat was grateful to have this chance to be around her, to wrap his head around everything. He sighed to himself and looked up in interest when the rosette-pelted feline stopped to uncover a rabbit burrow.
Snowthistle leaned his head closer and smelled deeply, his mouth beginning to water.
“Rabbit holes, got it.”He said quickly, before she continued.  He thought about a twisted paw and grimaced. That would mean spending a lot of time back in camp probably. Only a prickle of fear blossomed in his chest at the thought of being injured. Injured cats got taken advantage of. It’s likely not the same way here. This Clan takes care of their cats, he reassured himself internally.
He blinked in shock, stopping abruptly as he was about to move on, when Dawnstar stuck her face into the hole. He glanced over at Skyrose, almost happy to see his own confusion reflected in her face. They met eyes, he gave her an amused grin, and she gave him a tentative one back. Then he was returning his multicolored gaze to the leader as she came back out. His whiskers twitched in surprise at the seriousness on the she-cat’s face and he lightly lowered his head out of respect.
Snowthistle held his tongue as she explained the respect of nature. His only lessons were to hunt and eat his fill. But what she said made sense. “That’s very noble,” he murmured, still running it through his mind. “I will try my best to remember it. Though I don’t think I could stomach eating kits, regardless if they’re prey or not. No worries from me, Dawnstar.” His mew grew more confident as he continued, raising his chin and tail.
The tenderness Dawnstar held for the kids intrigued him. He would revisit the information later though, as his ears pricked and his stomach gave a gurgle in response to her question. “Starving,” he said back, not at all embarrassed. He took a step towards her, excitement suddenly making his whiskers quiver. Here was a chance. “Are Tourists allowed to hunt too?”
Skyrose:
Skyrose felt her heart constrict as her son looked away from her. She lowered her paw and sheathed it, sitting down and tucking her risk over her paws. She felt irritated with herself for a brief moment. Why had she done that? Snowthistle had grown up and known only violence for so many moons of his life. There was no need to remind him of it, even if she was just explaining a job of the Clan. As he responded to her, though, she felt heat rise under her fur that had nothing to do with the golden sun above. I’m a flash, the older she-cat realized, she was embarrassed by the praise from him. She didn’t count herself as brave for doing her job. She barely thought of herself as anything, let alone overly positive things like brave. The only thing that made the comment bearable was the use of her name. At least, he hadn’t called her mom again. She could only take so much of this at once.
Without knowing, her relief mirrored Snowthistle as Dawnstar continued on her brief interjecting lessons. It was all rules and customs she had heard before, which meant the snowy she-cat tuned it out for the most part. She let her thoughts wander across her mind-scape, reliving certain memories that were dredged up by Snowthistle’s appearance. None of the memories stayed, but moved fluidly like water behind her eyes, in the very crevices of her brain that nobody could reach. She recalled the pride she felt at the four suckling kits at her belly, the love that had formed for them in seconds after birth. Then the grief and tragedy at three of their deaths, her sweet carbon-copy of a kit standing beside their limp bodies.
How had he made it out alive, seemingly in tact?
Skyrose continued on, trying to pull herself from the depths. She shared a confused look with Snowthistle, voluntarily allowing a tiny smile to cross her maw, and feeling it drop when her son’s attention was no longer on her. She bit her tongue on words that swam unbidden to her mouth from Dawnstar’s pressing, holding them back. In SavageClan, we often over-hunted what precious prey was there. It was greed. Snowthistle might have trouble with resource guarding. She supposed, she could keep an eye on that.
Instead, at the idea of food, the white she-cat sat down, a few rabbit hops away from the protected rabbit hole. She yawned, showing a mouth of white teeth and said, “I ate before we left, so I’ll leave that to you two. But I’d be happy to stay here while you hunt and wait for your return.”
Dawnstar:
Dawnstar's rosetted pelt twitched with amusement when she spun to watch their reactions. Her whiskers twitched momentarily, a brisk nod answering Snowthistle's reply. I couldn't either, too much fluff. She blinked gently at the den once more as she moved past it, hoping her clanmates would follow the same words he'd just spoken to her. However, she wasn't entirely trusting on that front. You never could be too careful when it came to kits, the prey is just that easy. She hoped rubbing the hole with pollen would ward off any possible predators, and she hoped that she'd hid it well enough from her own clanmates. Turning tail on the alabaster tom, she began to sniff the overgrowth, her ears twitching as he went on. She rose her head and met his gaze, her eyes pools of genuine calm.
"Of course, those who manage to succeed, that is. I doubt you'll need lessons of your own." She rose her brow at him, as if daring him to ask. Her paws kneaded the ground anxiously as she swished her tail, not waiting for his reply. She'd find him a scent trail to follow. Her paws skimmed the Earth gently as she padded silently through the overgrowth, keeping her head low to pick up various scents in the territory. As if on command, the scent of a hare hit her maw, a warm one, hidden deep within the forest of mauve. She flicked her tail at Snowthistle to follow, her pupils dilating as the hare came into sight.
From where she stood, she was upwind of the creature, the wind now so harsh against her pelt that it plastered her whiskers and fur to her features, making each muscle identifiable. She moved carefully, setting her paws lightly as she dropped into a hunting crouch. Though instead of pouncing, she waited, her ears spinning on her head until Snowthistle had padded to her side. She lowered her voice. "Can you tell which gender this one is?"
The hare in sight had a musky, warm scent. It's paws treaded the ground as it leapt, somewhat hidden in the stems. It's tiny fuzzy tail shook as it reached for more plants, gripping it in it's jaws and chewing quickly, raising it's head on occasion to listen and search for looming danger. However, the two had a clear advantage, completely hidden by the various plants just as the hare was, though their scents were heavily masked, unlike it's own. The scent read as a buck, the deeper intensity of musk and lack of milk scent made Dawnstar grow vicious. This was a completely unrelated hare, one likely just travelling through the territory scavenging. Her ears flattened against her head and she shifted her shoulders, awaiting Snowthistle's response. She stayed locked onto her prey, her tail tip stiff as she inched further towards the prey, her claws itching to unsheathe. However, it was crucial she learned what this tom was capable of to see if he was the right fit. If he couldn't hunt, he'd make a great Sentinel, though doubt stung in her mind when it came to that thought. If he doesn't want to fight... Her ears twitched against her skull. She risked a glance beside her, watching him eagerly to see if he'd drop into a proper hunting crouch. His speed had already impressed her as he kept up with some ease, at least better than most other cats she'd tested. "Your call, Snowthistle. How do you reckon we handle this?" Her voice was She returned it to the hare, who hadn't moved a whisker by the time she was finished assessing her companion. She wiggled her haunches, settling softly into the ground. Her mind wandered to Skyrose, who was now settled not far away, still in clear view of the two felines. She pondered momentarily, would a tom without moor-running experience know the best way to track down prey on an open moor?
She scanned the territory subtly. If I'd led this hunt, I'd fan out my patrol around the prey, or in this instance, I'd scare it right towards him. Depending on which way it decides to veer, both of us would still be right on it's hide, that is if the tom could keep up with a panicked hare. She assessed the tactic, giving herself a clear guideline for what she expected the tom to explain to her. Even if he guessed that he'd need to scare the hare into another cat's paws, as long as he had the basic idea that was good enough for her. She couldn't rest at the idea of all the past Tourists she'd attempted this with. They hadn't the first clue, and plenty of prey had the time to escape before the Tourist had even left their perch. Some had been so noisy she couldn't even be irritated with them. She'd almost become numb to watching cats try and fail to catch prey. Moor prey is hard. She reminded herself briskly. It takes a great deal of skill and moons of training to perfect this kind of hunt. I'll be impressed if he so much as comes close.
Her leniency for a leader was practically unmatched. No matter how much prey was lost she could recognize that being frustrated with the cats she was teaching would only make things worse. She certainly wouldn't want to have her pelt clawed off for simply losing her footing. That could be why her clan mates respected her so much. She gave them the room they needed to grow and would guide their paws when necessary, but she recognized each cat learned at their own pace. There was no use in putting cats down when you wish for them to learn from you. She twitched her whiskers subtly, however. It would be outstanding if he succeeded. She thought on with a purr rising in the depths of her vocal chords. He'd be given his meal, I'd know what he's useful for. That sounds like a win-win to me.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle looked back over at the snowy feline that was his mother, watching her settle into a comfortable position near the hole Dawnstar just covered. One ear tip twitched nervously as he followed after the spotted leader. He thought briefly about how Skyrose hadn’t watched him grow up; she had no idea how he hunt or fought or what he learned. He pushed back against the grief that threatened at the edges of his mind, the fact that she may have helped him learn if she hadn’t left. He knew she had to leave. Blinding his father, Thornspike, may have impressed Bloodiedstar, but it likely would have led his foster mom to kill Skyrose. These weren’t thoughts that he needed right before a hunt, however, if he were to succeed. He refocused on the fluid movement of the great leader ahead of him and put all his senses to work.
“Let’s do it,” he said, excitement edging his mew. He followed more closet now, stepping at her haunches as they went. The multitude of purple flowers brushed against his fur, bringing all the floral scents to his nostrils. He struggled to push past them, catching small whiffs of hare. When Dawnstar dropped to a crouch, he felt himself moved quickly to copy. His heterchromatic gaze flickered out to a large creature, it’s warm scent reaching him as he breathed deeply, mouth watering again. The wind blew towards them, flattening what short fur he had. He crept forward until he was level with Dawnstar, their shoulder fur twitching but not touching. At her question, he narrowed his eyes. The question confused him. SavageClan didn’t care about the sexes of animals. Some panic began to climb up his throat. What if he failed this test? How could he tell?
Snowthistle’s claws unsheathed in anticipation as he tried to control his lack of knowledge. Suddenly, he remembered the burrow of rabbit kits. Oh! We have to make sure this isn’t the mother.. he risked a glance over to Dawnstar. She was intent on making this kill if he couldn’t.
“Male,” he finally responded, “so we can proceed.”
The next question also required some concentration. If he didn’t hurry, the hare would move on. In the forest, they stalked forward with the cover of underbrush and pounced a tail-length or so away. Watching the hare and it’s bobbing white tail, he realized there was enough undergrowth. But that didn’t seem right. The prey was perched on a tiny crest and the flowers were probably too close together to not brush against—they couldn’t creep up. His voice dropping even lower, trying not to alert the prey to their hunt, he meowed, “I’ll get as close as I can and give chase. You’ll have to flank me in case I’m not fast enough. I guess… yes, go circle the right side. I’ll try and come slightly from the left in hopes it’d run toward you if it escapes me?” His words came up like a question at the end, swallowing nervousness. It wasn’t a solid strategy; he still thought he might get it first. But, at least the white tom was thinking about a backup.
He waited for some kind of confirmation from Dawnstar before he crept forward. Snowthistle veered a tiny bit to the left, keeping his tail straight out behind him and putting weight on his back legs. He kept his ears pricked the entire time, listening for anything that might spook the hare. His mouth opened as he breathed. One step, two. Finally, a few tail-lengths before he left complete cover, the lithe tom farted forward, claws outstretched. He hadn’t misjudged the distance of his attack, but he had misjudged the speed of the large brown creature.
It fled a mouse-length before his claws could hook in its fur. He growled in frustration, scrambling to get his footing and give chase. It started towards where he hoped Dawnstar would be positioned; he wasn’t sure he could catch it first.
Skyrose:
The older she-cat was sitting comfortable, watching through the stalks of flowers as Dawnstar and Snowthistle went on their hunt. Skyrose wasn’t incapable of hunting, and possibly had more training than tunnelers, sentinels, and trackers did. But, she was committed to the duty she’d chosen and primarily went on patrols and protected the Clan. She may hunt here and there, mostly in the forest lands and not the moor. Still, she strained her ears to try and pick up their whispered words. Her hearing was good, but not that good. She was only able to watch through their body language as the hunt unfolded. Dawnstar seemed to be letting her son choose the approach; Skyrose didn’t see the prey they targeted.
She watched as they split off, leaning forward with interest. Then, she lost sight of Snowthistle as he went behind a clump of lavender. She sniffed in frustration and waited. Skyrose would have to wait to see if they caught the hare—she assumed—they were tracking.
Dawnstar:
The lithe molly rolled her shoulders as the tom answered, his words washing her mind with cool waves, her rising doubt calmed in an instant, a purr rising in her throat that she was forced to swallow. Focus. She reminded herself, they weren't clear yet. There wasn't anything to celebrate until their muzzles were soaked in blood. She tensed, the anticipation chilling her wide paws. She wanted to dart ahead, forget any questions and claim the prey for her clan, though no cat learned from just simply watching, and there was no way she'd be able to learn his skills if she became impatient. She flattened her ears to her head, her eyes closing with impatience as she waited. She'd never been the most patient cat, she preferred to speed through her tasks and move on with her day. She recalled her apprentice, as it was required by their customs for her to train one. She hadn't been the best mentor, that was for sure. Leading cats and teaching cats life skills were two entirely different things she hadn't been prepared for when Valleystar placed her in those situations. She found it almost heart-wrenching to lose so much prey and still have to keep a positive attitude. It was like having a new kit who didn't particularly seem interested in following her direction. She winced at her past mistakes. Never again, the only cat I'll need to train again will be my heir, and if for whatever reason we're short on full-grown cats. She understood the honor it was to be picked to be a mentor, but seemingly she just didn't understand the connection necessary for a mentor and apprentice duo to thrive. Do I really need to? Her whiskers felt fuzzy on her muzzle as she attempted to wrap her head around the idea. Though the moment Snowthistle replied her mind snapped back to the task at paw. His suggestion was almost exactly what she was looking for as he asked her to stalk from the other side of the hollow. She nodded briskly, allowing him time to pad ahead of her so he could start the assault, yet her ears twitched with amusement. She wanted to call her correction out to him, though that would risk them losing the valuable prey. The lead never catches the prey, it's almost entirely dependent on the flanker. Yet it didn't much matter who caught it on a patrol, it did stick out to her for a cat in training. She stalked forward, keeping her body low and her movements fluid with the wind, her muscles tensing as she reached her advantageous positon. Swirling purple surrounded her, almost covering her thick pelt in the whirling colors as she inched slowly forward, her pawsteps taking several heartbeats to connect fully with the ground. She kept her eyes piercing, unblinking, her hackles twitching with excitement. Either way, this is a win. Her pupils sharpened as she awaited, listening for the yowl. Yet none came. Dawnstar seemed momentarily confused when she heard a shuffling of paws. Her ears flattened and she sprung, her paws landing on air as she missed the hare by a whisker. Startled, the prey spun around, its eyes wide with terror. Dawnstar spun on her paws, letting out a massive yowl to attract Snowthistle's attention. She watched as the hare dashed off in the opposite direction from either cat, its long ears flaring out behind it as it made great haste. Dawnstar, focused on the task at paw, almost entirely forgot about Snowthistle as she raced after it, her sharp claws digging into the soft ground as she kicked up stems and petals in her wake, her breath hot as she bounded onwards. She could catch up with it if she cut it off. He just needs to stay close to grab it. Her thoughts were a brewing storm in her head as she gave chase, the scent of the fleeing hare clogging her senses and turning her vision red. She charged onwards, making great effort as she exerted extra strength, veering off along the hare's side as it attempted to race away. Forcing her fur flat as she was plastered by the wind, she suddenly felt a twinge of desperation, forcing her limbs out to their entire length as her strides grew faster. Ahead was new territory, much farther from their original spot than initially intended. She fastened her jaws shut as she forced onwards, she was growing closer now, her nostrils flaring as she swallowed air harshly. As if commanded, Dawnstar finally rounded on it, the hare growing weary and slower as it grew tired. She could run miles around the prey if she really needed to, it seemed her youthful energy was thriving. As she forced herself in front of it, she reached out with extended claws, letting out another bone-chilling yowl. Horrified, the hare swerved and spun, kicking out at her when she leaned close, before spiraling and heading right to where Snowthistle was giving chase. She felt a flash of excitement. Grab it! She willed him on as she raced alongside it, blocking any possible exit as she herded it closer.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle dug his paws into the packed earth as he narrowly dodged Dawnstar, crashing through the purple flowers after the hare. Her yowl had pierced the air right before he arrived, startling him. He blinked in momentary surprise that she had not caught it and felt dread cloud his mind. Thorns and thistles! he spat in his mind, I must have done something wrong. He scrambled back as the rosetted she-cat gave chase, his claws seeking purchase in the dirt as he darted after her. One ear tip flicked backwards, thinking of what Skyrose might be seeing or hearing. Hopefully, she would stay put and not intervene. Now—it was on. The short-furred tom snarled under his breath as he pushed his muscles to go faster. His heart thrummed with the anticipation of the hunt, beating like bird’s wings against his rib cage. He lowered his head and felt his tail straighten and stream out behind his haunches. He was panting hard now, exerting most of his energy. He remembered the small mouse and Twoleg food he’d eaten before arriving at the Clan with Twinkle with longing; it seemed his belly was empty now. He was also cursing himself internally, wishing he’d kept up some sort of training while living in the Twolegplace. Snowthistle felt himself stumble slightly, but regained his footing and sped on. He wasn’t as fast as Dawnstar still and with a flash of understanding, switched his path. He had originally been following on her paws, feeling stems whack against his pelt as he went through them. Now, he realized, he should be approaching from the flank, as he has asked her to do in the original hunt. From his vantage point, he could see that the great leader had ran around and was planning to cut the hare off, back towards him. He wasn’t directly behind anymore, but he was in a good position. As her yowl sounded again, it flooded energy into his lungs and limbs. The hare’s ears went straight up, then back again as it struggled to turn around. The wiry young tom came from the side and leapt, right as the hare turned to come towards him. He flattened it quickly between his claws and nipped the back of its neck in a killing bite. He watched the life fade from its enlarged pupils and looked up as Dawnstar came over to see the catch. The white cat’s multicolored eyes were shining with triumph, forgetting the first mishap. His mouth was watering as the delicious smell of fresh, wild grown prey wafted up. “We did it!” He meowed, maw opening as he panted. His sides heaved and his tail lashed with the extra energy, paw still holding down the limp hare.
Dawnstar:
The lapping sun eased the slight ache in the rosetted molly's paws as she skidded to a halt beside the alabaster tom, her thick tail lashing with triumph. The tom had made a clean kill, biting down cleanly on the spine, killing the hare instantly and without pain. She purred as she butted his cheek, a friendly gesture common amongst the more physically affectionate cats. She lapped her maw and lapped at her forearms which bore swipe marks along their length, where fur had been torn out with the rabbit's thick sharp claws as it furiously kicked at her. No scarlet oozed from open wounds however, and the sting that stung the amber leader only settled in as her adreanaline eased. Yet she hardly faltered, her expression brightening into a lighter sheen than before, her orbs glossy with excitement. The fur on the back of her neck prickled with the pure joy that washed over her body, he was perfect.
"Outstanding kill!" Her voice called above the moors, loud as if she was calling for her clanmates to join in to congratulate him. She curled her tail eagerly as she sniffed the prey over. Healthy buck, fattened by the greenleaf abundance of overgrowth, a wonderful piece of prey for many. She set her gaze upon Snowthistle softly. "You did perfect, you said you've never hunted in open moors before?" Her whiskers fizzled against her maw as she swirled her tail, her chatter ceasing to give him moments to reply. "In moors, the lead usually scares the prey with a yowl so their flanker is warned the prey will be arriving. I'm sure you noticed when low to the ground it's difficult to see between the growth." Her tail swished towards the mauve bundles surrounding them, though her wide, deepened smile still held. "Though with how you followed and got in position for me to redirect it back- that was very smart. And with a third cat like we'll have in a patrol, we'd have had it the first time." She mowed, her voice light and dancing. She blinked at him sweetly before nodding with her head back towards the Mauve Incline. "Let's show Skyrose, I'm sure she'll be impressed. Don't forget to thank Silkstar before you pick it up, though." She swished her tail before she began to pad away, before halting dramatically. "Oh-!" She spun around with a sheepish smile spread across her face. "I almost forgot. We thank Silkstar- our ancestor in Starclan- for each piece of prey we catch as we believe she is to thank for saving our ancestors from a horrible fate by a cruel, jealous leader. Just a 'thank you, silkstar, for this life' will suffice, usually the cat who delivers the killing blow is entitled to it, it was a life they claimed." With that she finished, spinning around and padding away.
Her mind swirled with joyous thoughts as she continued on, her steps to a sweet tune she marched in her head, her whiskers buzzing against her muzzle. The vibrant sun grew on strengthening light around her, the sun beginning to dim as the daylight grew old, soon to set. Her paws flicked against the grass, her tail spreading especially longer blades to make room for Snowthistle to pass through. Her version of a stamina test, allowing a single cat to haul a large hare. Her pelt twitched with excitement at the forming reality that was a mother about to see her son's first hare. It was an exciting one amongst many generations of queens, and one she experienced herself once with her son Tarragonglaze. She remembered his mentor having to carry it despite the tom's complaints- he wanted to make sure every cat knew whos it was. Her heart flooded her body with warmth as she recalled him begging her to taste it before any other cat. She had been the deputy at the time, and also his biggest idol, at least that's what she believed. She wanted to bury her muzzle into his fur at the thought, to praise him again. But this wasn't about her, it was this exciting moment for another molly. She wouldn't imagine missing it for the world. She kept an eye on Snowthistle, gently offering him her aid as they padded across the stretch.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle’s entire body was buzzing with Dawnstar’s praise. He couldn’t help lifting his narrow chin and pricking his larger ears, whiskers twitching with the excitement of the hunt. He felt warmth flood his entire body at the butt against his cheek, blinking in happy surprise at the affection. His tail curled over his back, his shining eyes mirroring the leader’s. He felt only mild dismay temper the happiness when he saw the scratches on her legs, then relief when he noted no blood had trickled from the scratches. He lifted his paw off the hare as she began to speak and inspect his catch. He felt like his head was full of content bees, buzzing but not stinging. “Do you really mean it?” He purred, not expecting a direct answer. He couldn’t believe how incredible it felt to be praised without the threat of violence hanging over his head, like it always seemed to be in SavageClan. At her instruction, he nodded his head. “I hunted in meadows before, but nothing like this. I’ll try to remember that for next time.” It made sense, especially if three cats were hunting one big hare. He flexed his claws as he contemplated the new technique. Hm, yeah! If I had just scared the prey and alerted Dawnstar, I think we would have caught it in the first bout. Selfishly, and to himself, he thought about how pleased he was it turned out this way, however. If he had succeeded in scaring the brown creature into Dawnstar’s claws, he wouldn’t have had the pleasure of killing it himself. The young tom looked down at the hare again, at the long ears and strong back legs. The killing bite was so neat only two drops of blood where his teeth had sunk in were present. Relief as strong as thorns pressed into his belly. No blood. Snowthistle felt his excitement double, no!, triple, at the thought of carrying it back to Skyrose. He purred and leaned down to grab it by the neck again, only to stop at Dawnstar’s mew. His whiskers twitched with curious confusion but he relented, murmuring over the catch, “Thank you, Silkstar, ah, for this life.” He figured with time, he would better understand this Clan’s traditions. Until then, who was he to go against them? He was happy to go along too, with the strong rosetted molly looking at him with such enthusiasm. That settled, the white-furred tom grabbed the hare gingerly in his teeth, hoping not to tear its fur or flesh. He hefted it up, surprised by the weight. Walking with a spring in his step, he followed back towards where Skyrose was, feeling the prey’s hind legs drag in the petal-strewn way. When he and the great leader emerged back to their spot, he looked to Skyrose, eyes twinkling, for her reaction. Nervousness pushed at his skin, battling with anticipation. Skyrose:
The two younger cats had gotten too far away for Skyrose to have heard or known the fate of the hunt. She sat where they had left her, the only motion the breeze in her medium-length fur and the tip of her tail twitching against her front paws. She imagined Snowthistle’s long legs pumping after the silly speed of Dawnstar, the hare’s rapid heartbeat anxious against its rib cage. Out of sight of any cat, a satisfied grin spread across her face. She had seen the determination in her son’s eyes as he raced after the leader earlier, and in his question to join the Clan. This was a hunt he wouldn’t lose, no matter who caught the succulent prey. Proving himself was in his veins; she had seen her own wiry, unwavering strength in his face. Whereas her’s had manifested in protecting the Clan, she could tell his could be in providing. Smugness begin to whirl around the snowy cat. Oh yes, she thought in satisfaction, my son will be a good asset to this Clan. She may not have raised him, but some of her late-late Clan’s thinking still stuck with her: Snowthistle had been her last standing kit, of course he was the strongest. He could persevere in any and all things here. After what felt like a whole moon, the she-cat watched as the sun began to bleed, falling towards the horizon. It brightened towards orange from its perky yellow.
The heat still sizzled the air and the mauve field around her, but soon it would be a comfortable temperature with the fiery sky-beast gone. It was then that she scented the oncoming of Dawnstar and Snowthistle. Skyrose watched as the amber spotted molly appeared first with no prey in her jaws. Then, her son came stalking forward. His head was raised as a massive hare dangling from his teeth. His blue and green eyes had seemed to take on the dying brilliance of the sun, looking at her with the inquisitiveness of a kit. Though mild in her emotions, she felt a burst of joy at the sight of him. The she-cat had never gotten to see him hunt, but here he was in all glory. Nearly hesitating, the frosty she-cat stood and padded towards Snowthistle as he stopped. She leaned forward and sniffed at the hare, pleased to find only his scent around its neck. He had made the killing blow. Shorter than him, Skyrose flicked her gaze to his face. She stiffened as she saw the remnants of arrogance of her old mate, then blinked the image out of her mismatched eyes. This wasn’t Thornspike, the tom she had so willingly blinded. It was her son, who had taken, it seemed, all the best qualities of his father and mother—her. Her body relaxed. “Well done,” she rumbled, taking several tail-lengths back as Snowthistle gently laid the hare on the dusty ground, “that’s very impressive, Snowthistle. Her whiskers twitched with suppressed happiness, tail swaying and itching to brush against his identical white pelt. She held back for now, allowing some of her pleased emotion to bleed into her face. Dawnstar:
The sun oozed with leaking ombre as the sun dipped beneath the edge of the treeline, the deep crimson that wept from the sky creating a vibrant, beautiful sight. The dappled molly's amber gaze cooled at the sight, the wind growing chilly as it brushed and stroked the molly along her thick fur, easing any tension she'd felt after the hunt and bringing her down to relaxation. Her ears swivelled against her head as she settled beside the two white felines, her whiskers twitching at the showing of Snowthistle's hare. It was a very impressive catch, especially for a Tourist with little idea of the correct action to take in the moors whilst hunting, it was a very respectable act. She curled her tail around her forearms as she tucked her paws beneath her chest, settling into a form commonly only used by kittypets, where not one of her limbs was visible. Her cheeks flushed as she rose her head to bask in the fading light of the sun, her back curled up tight and her muscles bunched close as she rested into her position.
She listened intently to what Skyrose had to say, her reaction somewhat underwhelming to Dawnstar. She blinked at her in surprise, as if she'd expected her to react as she once had when Tarragonglaze first returned from a successful rabbit hunt. She'd just about jumped three fox-lengths into the air when she first heard of his success, she'd rushed to meet him and spent the rest of the evening purring and grooming his whiskers, telling him just how proud she was of him and telling any cat that would listen- multiple times. She had felt so much pride when her own flesh and blood began to prosper just as she dreamed they would. It was one of the best feelings I've ever experienced. She stretched out her pad to gaze at the underside, her gaze locking with the pink toes that settled beneath her fuzzy paws. I suppose that was a different circumstance, though. She glanced up at Skyrose, who's expression was beaming, but she still held her body rigid and stiff, as if she wished to do more but was falling short. She blinked encouragingly at her, before turning her gaze back to Snowthistle.
"Part of the Prairie's Promise is to take each piece of prey caught outside camp back with them to provide for their less able clan mates before they feed themselves. However, theres plenty more prey at camp, the elders, kits, and queens have already eaten, as well as you're our guest. You are free to eat as much as you like." She touched Snowthistle's flank with her tail to redirect his attention momentarily back to her before allowing his focus to falter. She glanced at the hare at his paws, her maw still watering. She lapped at her muzzle and looked back over the horizon, her ears angled towards the long stretch ahead of them. She'd be sure to keep watch if necessary. It wouldn't be long until all the Tourists returned to camp with their patrols, with plenty of stories to share and possibly even more prey. Dawnstar curled her flank tighter around her side as she pulled her paws tighter under her. I don't reckon I've eaten anything since last sunrise, her ears flattened against her skull at the thought, her bridge scrunching as she attempted to cut out the scent of prey basically right infront of her paws. I've been too busy.. I just hope there's plenty of prey when I return so perhaps I can regain my energy as well. As a leader, it was expected she put her clan's needs forever before her own. She'd spend moons working endlessly, on little sleep, no food, anything necessary as her clanmates fought to survive alongside her. She recalled a familiar grief Valleystar had shared with her. It's not a bad idea to test your resilience. We honor Ravenstar when we starve while our clanmates stay full. She had taken her words very seriously, her mind chilled by the implications. Ravenstar had starved nine times over for her clanmates, her body so weak by the time she'd lost her third life that she hadn't returned for the rest, her body to lay and rest on the beach of her territory until the Earth claimed it. The thought sent shivers down Dawnstar's spine. Could I really do that for my clan mates? Her mind fizzed with thought, her ears growing hot with her rising doubt. She flattened her chest closer to the ground, pain rising in her belly as it gnawed for prey, digging its relentless claws in deep. She allowed her mind to soothe as she screwed her eyes shut. I'll eat once I'm back to camp, if there's anything left. If not I'll hunt, make sure the kits aren't hungry, and eat late. There's still plenty more to do. Her muzzle twitched as she turned back to her companions, her warm expression willing the two of them to relax.
"How'd you like it?" She meowed softly to Snowthistle, her brow raising with interest. "You can be honest. There's plenty more for you to try while here if you're interested." She blinked softly at him, willing him to understand that she wouldn't be upset with him for being entirely truthful. It was nearly impossible to get cats to tell her the truth about anything, it seemed cats liked to hold back as much information as possible from her. It stung, if she was to be completely honest. I want to feel like a friend rather than someone you should fear. She lulled her head as she scanned the sky, the fur along her spine prickling. I want my clanmates to trust me with any and all things without feeling afraid they'll be punished. It's the least I can do for them.
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle shuffled his paws in the ground as his mother inspected the hare, then looked up at him. At her restrained compliment, the tension in his body that had begun to build while she sniffed melted away. He could taste how reserved it all felt, how she held herself back. Sorrow dragged his whiskers to twitching, but he gave her a courteous smile and kept his gaze steady and sparkling. It didn’t diminish the kill in anyway, though he had hoped for a better reaction. He eyes flickered across her body, trying to read the language in her swishing tail and blank face. But, they were so far removed from each other at this point—over ten moons apart—that he didn’t really know how to read her small signals and motions. He merely had to hope she felt pride. A touch at his flank broke his reverie and he swiveled his head to gaze at Dawnstar, his multicolored eyes returning to the brilliance they held as he dragged the hare here. He listened closely to her words, soaking it up like moss in a rainstorm. Every word she spoke now was valuable to him if he were to learn this Clan’s ways. One large ear tip twitched with curiosity as she explained the process of prey distribution. It seemed, the more he learned in the span of this day, the further they all seemed from SavageClan. After the walk here, then the run, and now the hunt, his legs felt weak with relief and hunger. He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his mew as he replied, “So, the Clan cares for all as has been reiterated. Wow.” The skinny white tom bowed his head in acceptance, stretching slowly as he lay down right where he stood, the hare between his paws. He kept an eye on Dawnstar as the rosetted molly lay with her paws tucked, a tail-length or so away. She’s not eating? He felt confused at this. The great leader had participated as much, if not more, in the hunt than him. He considered questioning this, but stayed silent.
The prey-scent wafting up to his nose and scent glands was enough to make him push it aside. Instead, he hovered over the brown fur with his fangs, before sinking them in and taking a large mouthful. The warm succulent taste filled his mouth as he chewed, eyes closing briefly as he savored everything. Snowthistle felt his heart soar. He tucked in some more, polishing off at least half the hare himself before sheepishly looking up. He nudged the hare towards Skyrose, who leaned forward to eat a couple mouthfuls herself, even though she had eaten earlier. As the white feline did so, he turned his attention back to the other she-cat. “How’d I like it?” He echoed, his voice rising into a rolling purr. “Dawnstar, I loved it. There is so much honor and.. and fun in the way you hunt in the moors. Feeling the breeze tear at my short fur as we raced after that hare—phew!” His strength flooding back into his limbs from the meal, he raised his head at the leader. He hoped his words rang with the honesty he felt filling up his insides. “I couldn’t have picked a better way to spend my first day visiting this Clan if I tried.” The young cat looked to see Skyrose retreat and was filled with even grander happiness when he saw she was relaxed and looking at him in what appeared to be awe. “I couldn’t dream of finding a place more suitable to give the rest of my life to.” He blinked at her and used a claw to drag the hare back to him. Then, Snowthistle rose to his paws and grasped what was left of the prey, padding the few pawsteps to lay it in front of the amber-eyed she-cat. His voice charged with conviction. “I don’t know everything about this Clan, but… Dawnstar, it would honor me if you ate the rest of the hare we caught. There’s not enough to bring back anyhow.” Though he didn’t voice it, Snowthistle felt deeply about his choice. The fur along his neck bristled in excitement and his thin tail lashed behind his back. He wasn’t asked again, not directly. He didn’t expect a decision from Dawnstar right then and there; however, implications rang clear in his offer. As a Tourist, a visitor, and a potential new Clanmate, would she eat his kill?
Skyrose:
Some distance away, she watched more as her son and her leader interacted. The warmth there already surprised her. If Snowthistle could become so attached to Dawnstar this quickly, what was Skyrose doing wrong? In her heart of hearts, she knew she was holding back, pinpricks of claws dragging her down. It was hesitation and fear of losing him again that swam darkly in her mind. She also still couldn’t believe her eyes at seeing him fully grown, not quite looking as she had pictured but exceeding her expectations regardless. He had got prey! On his first outing of the moor! Despite her reserved celebration, Skyrose was cheering internally. As she watched her son tuck in, not paying attention to her, the white she-cat blinked at Dawnstar’s relaxed form and looked away. She tried to coax her muscles from hard stone to the softness of down feathers. Was the she-cat embarrassed at her leader’s ease? She wasn’t sure. When Snowthistle nudged her the hare, she realized her hunger clenched in hunger. Her prey that morning seemed long away. Still, she only filled up on a couple mouthfuls before feeling comfortable enough to stop. Ever the shadow of this outing, Skyrose listened to her son practically pour his heart out to Dawnstar. Ducking her head, Skyrose blinked back tears that were brimming at the edges. The day was coming to an end, golden-orange days washing over them and all the activities and revelations were crushing in on her. She managed to withhold most of the emotion, but when she looked up, happiness seeped through the cracks in her mask. What a warrior, she thought to herself, befuddled, how could he have turned out this way? He must have a heart crafted especially from StarClan. Her own belief in the warrior ancestors was shaky, but here was some sort of proof. Proof of mercy, beauty, and strength. Her son—her son—approaching the leader of the Clan of Sunlit Prairies, who she herself had vowed to protect along with the Clan, and presenting her with prey (even if it was leftovers).
Dawnstar:
Dawnstar's bright, ever-shifting gaze softened as she set her sight on Snowthistle once more. As the tom lay to feast, she felt a twinge of pride in her belly. My clan is so well off we can let our visitors hunt our prey, and still not know starvation. The idea caused her to erupt with an internal purr. She couldn't be happier with the arrangement she'd been offered. When she was in Snowthistle's paws, she had never believed such a place existed, it seemed too good to be true. Where cats could be protected by others, fed by others, and trained to become the strongest version of themselves? There was almost no reason to decline the offer to join, any other option felt miserable in comparison. Dawnstar curled her tail over her flank, her ego swelling at the thought. Her expression was distant, calm and collected as she spaced out, allowing her mind to wander as she watched the treeline eagerly. Her fur twitched and her ears swivelled, not taking much notice of the tension that seemed to burn between the two alabaster ferals beside her. Instead, she gazed eagerly as if waiting for something.
What did I do to gain such power? She wondered momentarily, her eyes clouding with thought. She swiped her maw with her tongue as she leaned down to lap at her pads. May as well get a wash in. She rubbed her paws across her cheeks, her long, rough tongue swiping over the long scratches on her arms and easing the itch, her mind soothed by the rhythm. I've become the owner and guardian of such crucial land. How long until... The fog clouded her senses as she lapped with vigor. The coyotes had been the closest thing to a threat they'd experienced in many moons, and with her tolerant attitude towards rogues and loners, it was incredibly unlikely they'd ever have to deal with that sort of threat. I've ruled out everything but predators. Besides predators, my clan is probably the safest. Her fur bristled at the thought, as if lingering doubt had to differ. She curled her tail tighter around her flank, continuing to wash to avoid interrupting. Though as Snowthistle responded, she flicked an ear and looked on at him, blinking curiously. She fluttered her lashes at him innocently, her muzzle unmoving from her static rest. She listened contently, her mind warming at his tone, his words lacing around her like a soft tail, inviting her in. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," she purred, her tone falling somewhat flat as if she were still somewhat distracted. She blinked away her thoughts, returning her paw back beneath her chest. She nodded, clearly pleased with herself. "I'm sure there's a way we can make it better, we still have until the sun sets, you know." She chimed sweetly, her tone matter-of-fact as if she was hinting a threat to drag him along on a late night patrol with her, yet her eyes glittered with friendly amusement and striking kindness. She whisked her tail to the opposite flank, before returning it, repeating the motion as she turned her sight to Skyrose.
The molly was still reserved, but Dawnstar felt she could sense the overwhelming pride that washed off her pelt, or perhaps she was imagining it. She chose to roll with it, giving her a sweet smile. By the time she returned her gaze to the hare, half of it had disappeared. She widened her gaze in surprise, looking at Snowthistle curiously. He ate eagerly and with haste, though he hadn't made a mess on his muzzle while doing so. Impressive. She thought with a pang of interest. I'd have chunks of fur hanging from my whiskers until sunset. I wouldn't even know about it until some cat told me, or I dislodged it myself by accident. She listened intently as he told her of his dreams, his vulnerability not entirely surprising her. She expected the vulnerability from her clanmates if they felt they could be honest with her, and she greatly appreciated it at the same time. She nodded gently, her gaze searching his expression. She watched curiously as he scanned the prey at his paws, before stepping towards her and offering it up. Dawnstar replied with a shocked, widened expression. Her fur bristled at the thought, before resting. She usually preferred to kill her own prey, and eat it fresh after she was fully aware her clanmates had eat. She'd never accepted a piece of prey from any other cat since she'd first joined the clan. Dawnstar looked at him longingly momentarily, as if she wanted to decline, though her belly crawled up her chest and threatened to choke her. She rose her muzzle and gave him a soft purr, leaning up to touch her nose to his own. "As long as you promise you're full, you earned this." She released a paw from its position under her chest, letting it rest gently on the prey that still clung to it's lively warmth.
She gave him a sweet smile after realizing the implications. It's an honor for the leader to eat their clan mates' catches. It's one of the highest honors you can give to a hunter. She reminded herself, her ears twitching as she hesitantly bent down. It wasn't like she didn't trust Snowthistle, hell she'd watched everything that happened to this hare, she watched him feed it to his mother before offering her the rest. She blinked gratefully, giving him a deep, wide, sweet smile as she nodded to accept it. It's not that I don't like eating my clan mates' prey, it's more I feel like I'm taking prey from their maws. She blinked at him hesitantly, as if she were a kit asking permission to leave her den. Yet the gnawing inside her only worsened and ached more the longer she waited. She opened her jaw, revealing her shockingly long fangs, before biting down and taking a massive chunk from around the hare's neck. He was right, there wasn't any use bringing this back to camp now. There was hardly enough to feed another cat off it, and though Dawnstar noted just how much he ate, it didn't linger in her mind. I can't blame him, this is delicious. She buried her muzzle in, taking long strips of flesh off carefully, her paws seperating the skin so she could easily rip into the succulent muscle. Her mouth watered even as she bathed her muzzle with it's blood, taking time to lap at her maw before continuing. She was somewhat of a sloppy eater, she was ashamed to admit. Her whiskers stained red and her sharp fangs penetrated the body, causing blood to ooze onto her tongue. It made the prey taste better, and she recognized her strength in large fangs, though she realized it was far too easy to destroy prey. Usually when she hunted, she'd have to use her paws to kill whatever was unlucky enough to intercept her path. After a few moments of filling her belly, she looked at Snowthistle eagerly, her whiskers buzzing.
Blood dripped from her chin and onto the grass beneath her, with that she took a moment to lap her maw once more, though it was little use. She twined her tail behind her, clearly satisfied. "You did a wonderful job today, Snowthistle." She meowed, her eyes soft as she rested them upon him. Though the decision felt rushed, Dawnstar couldn't help but make the offer. Afterall, he'd won her over with food. "If you feel up to it, I'd like to introduce you to the rest of the clan... As a temporary apprentice." Her gaze solidified on his own, her messy muzzle forgotten about by now. She held his gaze expectantly, her tail swishing to wave Skyrose closer. "You'd be trained under me, so you won't need to worry about having to be bossed around by a younger cat. You'd keep your name... Unless of course you wished to change it, then you could gain a new one when you're fully promoted." Her words strung along in a tumbling list, as if she was rehearsing it in her mind beforehand. After hearing his passion, seeing his skill, and the undeniable fact that Skyrose was his mother, she felt she couldn't string him along anymore. She wanted to be transparent with him, and the first of the held secrets was now gone. She had been wishing, hoping, praying even he'd still want to join by the time he got a taste for clan life. She couldn't imagine a better choice for her clan.
Skyrose:
Skyrose felt disarmed further by Dawnstar’s sweet smile that was aimed to her. She dipped her head to lick her chest fur with a few rapid strokes of her bright pink tongue. Her ear-tip twitched in awkward bashfulment, but she looked up in time to see Snowthistle offer the hare and what unfolded next. A mother’s anxiety rose in her chest unbidden, surprising the snowy she-cat. She blinked her mismatched eyes rapidly, gaze shooting between the two younger cats in front of her. She stood, almost subconsciously, one paw stepping forward as she anticipated the leader’s reaction. As far as the Sentinel cat had known Dawnstar, she rarely saw her eat, and when she did, it was all the Clan has their bellies full. Skyrose even suspected that the Bengal she-cat often took the smallest prey, or caught her own out of sight. In hunger were to ever strike the Clan of Sunlit Prairies, she knew Dawnstar would starve first. It was enough to send shivers down her spine. That was the leader that Skyrose knew: gentle, honest, and always willing to put her Clanmates first. Still, Snowthistle’s gesture was a strange and powerful one. She was uncertain if Dawnstar would accept it—thus, Skyrose felt, accept him. Her whiskers twitched in surprise as the rosetted she-cat accepted the remains of the hare. Skyrose’s shoulders had begun to rise and now flattened. She watched in complete still silence to the crunching of Dawnstar’s pearly teeth on bone and flesh. Snowthistle seemed to gaze at the great leader in quiet as well, though Skyrose couldn’t read his expression. When her leader had finished, her sweet words had the white she-cat dizzy. Accepted as a temporary trainee already? And under Dawnstar? It was such a honor that Skyrose herself wouldn’t know how to take it. Snowthistle may not realize it now, but Dawnstar had just offered him a place in the Clan quicker than any cat. Well, if he earned his keep still.
Snowthistle:
“I promise I’m full,” he meowed pleasantly, hardly daring to breathe as Dawnstar brought the prey to her mouth. His eyes shone down at the mighty she-cat, his body going stiff in anticipation of her first bite. He hadn’t known anything like this feeling before, of triumph and warmth, and hoped it would be the first of many times that he would in the Clan. As her teeth sunk into the remains of hare, he felt only a flicker of panic at the sight of her eating. Fangs flashing and blood spouting, he had to stop his mind from casting back to SavageClan, a world of blood and pain. If anything, he was marginally relieved to see Dawnstar being a messy eater. She wasted no time in devouring what was left of the prey, and he had a moment of doubt that he’d barely left anything there. His full, content stomach reminded him that she had told him to eat his fill. It’s like obeying Clan leader’s word right? he reasoned to himself. When all edible scraps were swallowed by Dawnstar, the youthful tom cat straightened his back and took a tiny pace away to gaze into her deep eyes fully as she spoke. Her praise once again lit him up from the inside. It was like the stars of StarClan speared through his fur and eyes, sending his whiskers twitching and fur bristling. Truthfully, the sun was behind him now, lighting up his pelt normally and making his edges fuzz and glow. He like the hard, her meow of acceptance sent energy blazing through his pelt. He couldn’t stop himself from bouncing a little on his paws, his tail lashing in the air once again. “Feel up to it? I’m born for it!” Regardless that he wasn’t born in this Clan, he felt like his destiny had led him here. Snowthistle continued, trying to remain humble and lower the volume of his voice. “I would be- frankly I’d be honored to train under you Dawnstar and I promise you won’t regret this decision. I’ll prove to you and the other cats that I’m meant to be apart of the Clan.”
He skirted around the topic of his name, not wanting to think about it now. So many complicated emotions welled up at the thought. For now, it was time for happiness and not questioning. He felt more than saw as Skyrose padded closer to hear the exchanged, her presence an interesting pressure near his side. With a surprised twitch of his flank, he looked to see her tail-tip retreating from his side after just nearly brushing against him. Awkwardness forgotten for the moment, he beamed a smile at his mother, then back at Dawnstar.
Skyrose:
Skyrose walked forward at Dawnstar’s gesturing, reaching her son’s side as he responded to the leader’s query. She knew in her heart that there was no way Snowthistle would say no to this. This whole day, she had seen his overwhelming tenacity to learn and grow and be determined to join. A small pang in her chest reminded her that he had had no idea she was here. It brought a new thought: had Snowthistle ever thought to try and find her when she left SavageClan? He had been so young when she ran off, what did he remember of her? Their awkward meeting this day only proved a lot would still need to be worked on if mother and son ever had a relationship beyond the cordialness of warriors. As he asserted his desire once again to join and do whatever it took, this didn’t matter to her. She allowed herself to feel it, all of it. Her son alive, seemingly happy, about to be invited to join the Clan she’d also made her home. Her son about to make a life for himself too, and she got to watch it happen. Skyrose lifted her tail almost without thinking, as Snowthistle finished talking, and brushed it against his side for a fur length’s second. When the full force of his gaze, one blue one green, met her’s and that smile spread across his face, she herself felt exuberant. Something right had finally happened. Skyrose only hoped it might be up from here.
Dawnstar:
The rosetted Bengal eyed them quizzically as the two cats watched in awe as she ate infront of them, her tail tip twitching ominously. She used her free paw to tear off the rabbit's ears, careful not to pierce them with her sharp fangs, placing the pair gently beside her as they'd been carried by the wind itself. She then lapped her paw eagerly, washing her face before sheepishly returning her gaze to the pair infront of her. She twitched her whiskers, flicking rabbit fluff in their direction, before giving a large stretch, the curve of her back outlined by the waning sunlight that still bathed the land. Once she repositioned, she rolled her shoulders in turn, her tail tip curling, before she plucked up the bones of the prey until they rested in a neat pile beside her, using elongated grass blades to loosely bind them together, her only tools being a mixture of her maw and paws. She blinked softly at Snowthistle, before curling her tail around her flank, her paw motioning over the bones.
"Once you've finished your prey, it's common courtesy to rid of the scraps that are not edible. If not, camp may become cluttered, kits may try and chew on them and hurt them selves, or they end up poking you in your nest. Camp should be the only place we eat from now on, unless previously authorized." She brushed her tail against Snowthistle's shoulder, before returning it beside her to scoop the bones closer. She took the chance to keep his mind on learning, focusing- training him as a proper mentor should, before she gave him the reply he was waiting for. She waited to see his reaction to her withholding of a response. Once satisfied she nodded, her whiskers quivering. "I'm sure you are, and we'll see that you don't. Shall we?" The molly's reply was simple, her face no longer giving of the blissful joy fron earlier, though she still gave the two a sweet smile and a rough purr before moving along, her muzzle gripping the stems that held the remains. She turned suddenly, her tail raising straight into the air, her head jerking back around as if she'd almost forgotten. "Carry those ears for me, would you? They make a great treat for kits, I'm sure Velvetkit and Cottonkit would be thrilled." She called through an ajar maw. She butted her head against Skyrose's cheek as she passed, as if thanking her for her presence alone, before she began to head back towards camp.
She took note to not give a signal for the two to follow, her mind still heavily occupied by the idea the two needed alone time. Perhaps they'd pick up on it, or perhaps they wouldn't. Either way she wanted to leave the option open. She recognized how willing her clanmates were to follow her every pawstep, and their eagerness to do so. It somewhat shocked her from time to time, just how highly some cats thought of her. Simply put, she didn't really see herself in that light. I'm not that big of a cat, am I? She glanced down at her back self-consciously. Her body swayed, her pawsteps powerful and heavy, her stride graceful, elegant, yet strict and threatening. She curled her lip. No matter. They respect me because of my rank, nothing else. I doubt it's me they see. I guess they don't need to. Her paws felt cold as she continued on, her expression shifting as she prepared herself to return to camp. In the eyes of all those cats. She arched her spine to rub against shrubs, marking them with her scent before moving on to the next, rubbing her cheek against it and curling her tail at the cackle the bones sounded. In the grand scheme of things, I'm nothing but a small 'star in a massive galaxy. Her head ached to swing back to stare up at their ancestors, though she knew it was much too early. How can I ever be compared to cats like Silkstar and Ravenstar? She slowed her stride, her thoughts spinning wildly as if desperate for an answer. Then suddenly, it dawned on her. I've done my best, and my proof is behind me. She was a great leader. Her clan had yet to know hunger, they had yet to know the hardships of clan life, because she hadn't allowed them too. She could prevent those things. Even if she had to be the first cat to starve, the last to grieve, and the first in line for battle, it would all be worth it. It was for her clan.
===Snowthistle's Temporary Apprentice Ceremony===
Dawnstar:
The long Bengal's fur twitched as her stride broke into a chase, her legs wrenching against the moor floor and flying through the territory with wind guiding her, flanking her sides and brushing her whiskers. She curled her tail around her flank as she slowed, her whiskers twitching as she scanned the darkening overgrowth, the way to camp quite vague. She'd spent many moons padding this path with her clanmates however, and their subtle scents still clung to the grass around, inviting her with their twining familiarity. Dawnstar brushed her cheek against it, a loud purr rumbling the bones that clattered against her chin, swinging with each motion of her head and threatening to snap free in a matter of moments if she wasn't more careful. Gingerly, she relocated the bones to where waste usually lay, her paws scraping against dirt as she kicked Earth over them, burying it in deep territory where it was unlikely to be discovered. She swung her head to head back to camp, her mind swirling excitedly at the opportunity at paw.
She curled her claws into the dirt as she pulled herself up the familiar slope, her haunches bristling as the scents took their time to reach her, giving her a humbling brush backwards of her pelt. I've left them alone for so long... What if the coyotes returned? The pang of guilt that threatened to choke her only tightened as she padded faster, her pouch swinging against her legs as she pushed on, her long legs aching to rush. She peered into the darkness, half expecting to hear yelps from the wretched dogs and the squealing of kits... Though no sound echoed. She flattened her ears and continued, screwing up her gaze as she opened her jaws. Suddenly it hit her, the warmth of the dens, the scent of fresh prey... Everything was serene. Dawnstar stifled a sigh as she crouched through the entrance of camp, her eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the differentiating light inside camp as opposed to the veiled darkness of the arcway tunnel leading in. She curled her tail tip in greeting, a bright smile widening across her face as a few cats rose to greet her, their whiskers twitching. It seemed as if the patrols for the day had returned, with Tourists settling into their den at the edge of camp, searching for a place to claim as their nest. Her clan mates were circling around the fresh-kill pile, a large hare dangling from a small apprentice's jaws as she dragged it towards her den, her whiskers buzzing excitedly. "Greetings, Dawnstar." There was a voice that meowed beside her, a young Queen, heavily pregnant with kits, her silver face shining a pale amber in the fading sun, her whiskers buzzing with some emotion. She bowed her head in greetings, her eyes glittering as two tiny toms sprung at her paws, scuffling and kicking at one another before bolting off when a fluffy tortoiseshell came to shoo them away, her head bowing in greeting to the rosetted leader before she quickly padded away, her tail curling up against her flank.
Dawnstar purred at the kits, before taking to sitting just outside her den, her head bowed in a wash as she awaited the arrival of her companions. Her ears twitched as they appeared not long after her, with Snowthistle headed in first. Dawnstar looked up at him hopefully, her ears pointed towards the camp entrance as if expecting something more, though when Skyrose did not push out directly beside him, the molly tucked her tail in softly, her expression neutralizing. She let out a soft chirp to alert Snowthistle, waving him over to her with a paw. She rose to meet him, trotting to stop the tom half way, her breath warm on his muzzle as she leaned in to whisper to him. "I'll introduce you to them now before we begin our ceremony for the sundown. Are you ready?" She blinked at him encouragingly, not entirely giving him the option to back out if he wished. She kept her expression solid yet sweet and providing, her muzzle curved in a sweet smile as she offered him a moment to prepare, before she bumped her head against his cheek, her tail tip twitching before leaping upwards, her paws landing with a heavy thud atop the stone ledge that made up her den, her tail curling up with her as she fluidly stretched along the length of the stone beneath her, her sharp gaze scanning the cats far beneath her. The exhilarating pulse that shot through her was a feeling she recognized she'd never get used to. Standing tall, commanding and directing her clanmates. The vantage point spelled out her power, it shown her authority, her overseeing over each and every life below her. She stood tall, her shoulders locked and her chest puffed, her face slightly down turned and causing the swirling pattern of her design to spiral outwards against her sides, defining each piece of her anatomy and laying itself upon her pelt with soft grace. Her narrow muzzle parted to speak out to her clanmates, the significant boon of her voice echoing throughout camp, alerting any and all cats within it
"Let all cats old enough to hunt beyond the Tall Grass meet beneath the High Ledge for a clan meeting."
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle felt dazzled when he entered the camp again for the second time ever in his life. After the cool speckled shadows of the tunnel in, the setting sun shone brightly over the lip of the tall grass that surrounded the clearing. He blinked at the brilliance of it all, one green and one blue eye reflecting the shine. At an alerting chirp, he ducked his head to see the great leader beckoning him. With his thin white tail held high in the air, he trotted over, one ear flicking back as he heard Skyrose finally walk in behind him. Still holding the hare ears delicately, he set them off to the side right before Dawnstar reached him half-way across. As she leaned in, he felt his excitement doubling, tripling. Her soft words reached his ear fur, trickling past as he breathed slowly to settle the quivering in his paws. His whiskers twitched and her already familiar earthy scent soothed his anxieties about the ceremony. He pushed the semi-awkward conversation with his mother away to focus on his coming future. A smooth purr erupted in his chest, traveling to his throat. He blinked appreciatively at Dawnstar and meowed, “I’m ready!” He felt the rosetted molly nudge her head against his cheek, his purr increasing. He watched the strong she-cat launch herself up the rock in one bound, his maw turning up at the corners in a smile. I can’t believe how lucky I am! How wonderful and welcoming Dawnstar has been. for one guilty moment he panicked, looking around the clearing to see if he could spot his soft, spunky friend Twinkle. His fur bristled as he realized he hadn’t much thought about her during his outing. Oops.. I guess I got carried away being wild again. But she knows why I came here! It’ll be fine. The young tom reassured himself, turning fully to face the gathering cats. His gaze flicked through the crowd, seeing so many different expressions and characters and pelt colors. Open, friendly faces, then some that looked more closed off or disinterested. He continued his analysis as Dawnstar’s words boomed out above him. He straightened his back and raised his head, meeting the cats’ curious eyes as he waited for the announcement. His white pelt was streaked with some dust and pollen, but he felt stronger and more handsome than any other day of his life. He may not have been becoming a full member of the Clan today, but he still felt the enthusiasm as if he was. It was the start of his new life after all. A proud flame bloomed in his heart. Here we go! He crowed internally.
Skyrose:
Skyrose kept a pace with Snowthistle as he breezed past her on the way to the camp, staying about a fox-length behind him as they padded back. She noticed as they got closer that the young white tom was stretching the distance between them. He must have been moving faster, his excitement bringing flight to his paws. She thought bitterly, that Snowthistle still had the youth in his body, that his life wasn’t over yet or calloused as much as her’s. But—the she-cat shook her head—that was unfair thinking. She had no idea what her son had endured when she left. He could be masking unbelievable pain and past. If anything, it should be admirable, if she thought of even the little bits of life he could have had up to this point. Hopefully, Skyrose would find out everything soon. Did Bloodiedstar live? Had Thornspike been killed for her blinding him? What role had Snowthistle played? Had he killed? As she entered camp, she watched Snowthistle continue onward towards the spotted molly that was to be his new leader. The older feline huffed softly under her breath. All the Tourists were back, and most of the Clan cats. The prey pile was lower but not gone and many cats still mingled in the clearing. As Dawnstar’s order sounded through the clearing, the cats of the camp began to murmur to each other and make their way towards the rock outcropping above the leader’s den. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them in determination and made her way over. Raising her chin and faintly glaring at any cat that might oppose her, Skyrose made her way to the front of the crowd, hearing a snarled “watch it!” from a ginger tabby as she pushed past them. Not the most popular cat here, she thought with amusement, sitting primly at the front of the many cats with her tail curled around her front paws.
Snowthistle met her eyes, looking overjoyed that she had made her way up there. The snowy she-cat gave him a slight dip of her head, then looked up at the dazzling Dawnstar and blinked at her in appreciation (probably mirroring her son’s blinks from earlier). Though she couldn’t convey it right, she was so thankful for everything that had happened that day.
Tansypaw:
“What? You want a rematch, after you already lost so badly to me this afternoon?” Tansypaw purred out mischievously, bumping into Bloompaw as the two trotted along next to each other. The journey back was unfortunately all-too quickly gone by, as short as all return journeys usually were, and the Tall Grass soon loomed up before them, already cast in growing shadow at the bottom. The woods had begun to grow dim and quiet, save for the growing bravery of a few loud crickets and toads along the way. The molly scrunched up her nose as the scent trail of her clanmates leading through the blades of grass were overcast by the masking stench of strangers, who smelled of twolegs, trash, thunder-paths, and foreign lands. Great, here we go, she thought with a sigh and a roll of emerald eyes that shone in the evening light. Her attitude was shattered along with the peaceful chatter emanating from beyond the rustling barrier as Dawnstar’s distinct and commanding voice broke out. A searing flash of panic burned through the ginger-white apprentice, some of the same thoughts of her sister’s entering her brain. Tansypaw’s tufted ears were pricked tall upon her head, mirroring Bloompaw’s as the sisters glanced at each other. She noticed Bloompaw’s worry-laced eyes and quickly covered up her own anxiety, putting on a strong face. Skyrose just might’ve noticed I was missing, since she wouldn’t be taking part in the Festivities, most likely. And with nothing else to do, had probably come looking for her for some training, Tansypaw thought grimly.
“It’s probably nothing,” she attempted to calm her sister’s worries however, ducking through the stems and into the entrance first this time. If she went ahead of Bloompaw maybe she could protect her from the brunt of the punishment awaiting the two on the other side. When she slipped out the other side, back into the last rays of sunlight, however, the camp looked calm and content. Dawnstar was up on her ledge, relaxed. Skyrose was no where to be seen, as far as she could tell. Tansypaw let out a breath of relief, the rattling of her heart and trembling of her large paws finally stilling. She’d been right, of course she had been, it was nothing. Bloompaw appeared behind her and seeing as she didn’t need to stand up to some sort of confrontation, Tansypaw let her nudge them towards the gathering crowd, settling at the edge. Even though she had her tall stature and could easily see above the heads of most of the gathered cats, Tansypaw would always rather be up at the front and center. “What’s this now?” She muttered to her sister, green eyes critically scanning camp and Dawnstar to figure out what the leader had planned now.
Dawnstar:
The crowd of cats below her shuffling and murmuring sent shivers down the dappled leader's spine. It wasn't often that each and every cat was crowded into one area, the sight of every clan cat together now was enough to encourage any leader. She hooked her claws into the stone beneath her as she took a gentle step forward, locking her shoulders to peer farther across the rock without the opportunity to stumble and fall, her tail tip swishing to counteract any loss of balance. Her eyes shone eagerly as she looked upon her clan mates, each one eager as they gatherer to hear what she'd have to say to them. Tourists and clan cats alike now mingled, their different pelt shades mixing together to blend into a pleasing fuzzy pallette, one that would claw its way out of its own fray to defend her until their last breath.
Her whiskers twitched as more and more cats swarmed into camp, including the young kits in the nursery, who huddled with their mothers just outside the nursery. There was an apprentice as well who looked on from the den, her ears flattened as if the idea of leaving her prey did not entice her. She curled her tail over her flank and retreated deeper, no longer visible to the leader's naked gaze. Below she spotted her Tunnelers, who were bundled together as a silver cat with a lazy eye groomed debris from their twin's pelt, their long laps only interrupted when the cat sneezed. There was a darker tom near them as well, his brooding expression menacing as he took to the edge of camp, avoiding the tangle of pelts in the center of camp. Each cat is so different. She recognized with a pang of curiosity. I wonder if any cats will disagree with my decision. That was a question only time would answer. She flattened her pad against the cool stone as she arched her back, letting out a soft yowl to regain her clanmates's attention. She blinked down at them eagerly, her tail tip swirling.
"Cats of Sunlit Prairies," her voice was washing the words from her throat like a cool bubbling stream, ears pinned forward as she kept her gaze steady beneath her. "It is my honor to announce the expansion of our populace. Cats of Sunlit Prairies, I'd like to introduce you to our newest temporary apprentice." Her head held high, her voice echoing off the camp walls and resting upon soft ears below, she only hoped she picked the right ones for the announcements she'd call out next. "Snowthistle, please join me atop the High Rock." She looked down at the tom beneath her eagerly, her gaze settling on his pale pelt. She beckoned him with her tail tip, her expression glowing. Though surrounding them, some cats seemed to shuffle uneasily. Dawnstar overheard various voices whispering from the crowd.
"But it's the first day?"
"He has a clan name already? Was he exiled from Hanging Canopies?"
"'Temporary apprentice,' already? Dawnstar..." Dawnstar flashed them a warning glare as the alabaster tom leapt up to meet her, her paws ready to support him in any which way if he happened to slip, her fur twitching anxiously. As she stood beside him now, she blinked carefully down at her clanmates, who seemed to lean forward now at the new opportunity, their whiskers fizzling against their soft muzzles. Her maw twitched as she watched on, her ears flicking dismissively. She saw the darker tom from earlier retreat slightly, his tail bristling. The silver cat had stopped to stare curiously, and even the pretty apprentice from earlier stuck her white muzzle out to gaze upon the tom, her tail tip curled around her flank. The rosetted Bengal cleared her throat.
"Snowthistle has proven himself to be a talented hunter, his tactics using impressive speed, besting moor prey with as much ease as a naturally born clan cat. As well as his eagerness for survival, this tom has proven to me he has earned this opportunity. I will be his mentor, and he shall train alongside me to become one of our strongest assets." She curled her tail over his shoulders, giving the bi-color tom ample time to look on at his clanmates below, her tail tip twitch the only give at her general anxiety. If only they'd accept my choice with no question. Her gaze slipped to the dark pelted tom at the edge of camp, his fur plastered a deep rustic color due to the fading light around them, yet the outline of his lashing tail was evident.
She winced as he took a step forward, his ears flat against his head. Yet he wouldn't dare speak out on her. She realized suddenly he was glaring directly at Snowthistle. "Everyone please welcome Snowthistle, your new den and clan mate. We honor your courage and tenacity. May Silkstar light your path." She bowed her head to him as she spoke these words, touching her nose to his own to complete the ceremony, before she searched for the next announcement, seemingly losing it in that dark tom's eyes. She shook away her thoughts, her mind settling on a much more flavorful option. She flitted her gaze at the tom as he took a step forward, as if about to protest, she met his grief with her own distraction, her paw flattening against the stone as she leaned forward. "And as the sun sets on Sunlit Prairies' territory, so does it set on another crucial day. Tourists and clan cats alike have worked together to learn the likes of each life. I'd like to give thank you, to our guests and our fellow clan mates, for working vigorously." She swished her tail in a twining motion, her paws kneading the stone beneath her pads. "You all have done a wonderful job. Nightly patrols shall be halted tonight as we take the time to celebrate Silkstar and our achievements as a clan." With that she bowed her head, giving an opening for any cat to speak if they so wished. Of course, some cat bit. Dawnstar's warm hazel gaze grew still as Carrionsaunter took the bait, his whiskers quivering as he took a meaningful step towards her. From her positon, she could see his neck fur was bristling. He means trouble.
Carrionsaunter:
The dark pelted ton stood firm in his up right position, his stocky motif sharpening his pointed edges where his bones linked together, where his body met on peaks. The masculine flared his chest, his whiskers vibrating against his stock muzzle as he flicked his tail ominously. Each word that stumbled out of that molly's mouth made Carrionsaunter's pelt itch. He was never one to speak out against his leader, especially not Dawnstar, but he almost couldn't stop himself, by the time he'd stood to challenge her he hardly realized what he'd been doing. He stared boldly at Snowthistle, ignoring the warning glare shot down by Dawnstar above. Nonsense.
"'Temporary apprentice' already, did I hear that right?" He called to the tom above. The rustic male had a deep, sharp toned voice, the depths of his vocal chords shuttering to give him a breathy accented tone. Dawnstar rose her muzzle, her tail lashing behind her. Daring, Carrionsaunter followed the motion, his hackles raising behind him. He was still cloaked with debris and mud from his earlier hunt, and his whiskers fizzled at the thought of Petalpaw tucking in with the other apprentices, though he realized now his impressive catch had vanished. He swung his head around momentarily, his gaze flicking around camp and back to the white stranger, before returning. He repositioned his head, clearly not finished. "He looks like nothing more than a drowned hare-kit with twisted whiskers. Where'd you find this one, the tunnels?" His tail tip twitched as he continued, his shoulders flexing to show off his own build, while not necessarily attractive no cat could doubt his strength. The real strength necessary to live in a clan. "When will this one's trial be taking place? Surely you've come up with a challenge suitable to his liking." His eyes were glazed with an icy challenge, his muzzle curling back in a snarl. Around him he noticied few other cats held his grief. Magnoliagloom and Azaleanectar, two queens, looks up at the tom with the same pair of pale yellow eyes, glittering in the light as if each molly was curious to learn more. Shallowshrine, one of his idiotic denmates, looked up from his drowsy grooming to blink sleepily at his leader, his whiskers twitching as he joked with his brother. The sight only enraged him further.
He continued to scan around. Pelts of varying colors, few of which held his side. He noted a heavily pregnant molly at the edge of camp, her fur bristling in a mocked hesitance much like him. He locked a purr in his throat at the sight of the pretty molly. So I'm not alone. He flexed his claws on the dirt beneath him. To live as a clan cat it's a challenge. It only serves them right to have to take paw in one to show their strengths and their determination to stay loyal to their clan. He grimaced as a sour thought bottle-necked his mind, threatening to choke him. Harpyspiral... He'd had to remove a tree that had fallen into camp... Himself. He remembered hearing the story retold by the tom various times, he'd been so proud of his solution. He just broke off pieces of it until he was able to start rolling it. It took him moons, but he'd done it. He was granted few moons to live here in return before my mother... He gnashed his teeth as he pushed the thought away. The only thing that mattered now was seeing another cat suffer a similar trial.
Tauntingtear:
The muscular tom’s stormy-gray fur twitched in the light breeze, the afternoon sun sending a glow across his pelt that only seemed to outline the oddities of his pelt’s markings. As a few light clouds began swerving onto the evening sky, the sire’s gaze rose slightly, eyes narrowing as he inspected the darkening silverpelt. His eyes glowed in observation, tail flicking peacefully, before his head tilted downwards. The sire’s gaze now swept across the clearing, watching as clanmates and strangers alike traded kind words and warm welcomes. The prey pile had begun to dwindle, but no true worry sparked at the deputy's mind. There were too many cats who would get hunting sooner or later. Even so, few tourists seemed eager to eat the little creatures anyways. The sire had no worry that the pile would stay full for now. However, he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s height doubled before the morning sun rose once again. The festival had always been a time where all clan-members seemed to act their best. Despite the chaotic nature of some tourists, everyone in the clan seemed to want to impress the strangers, going out of their way to do their duties with a keen eye and a careful paw. A light chuckle rose in the sire’s throat, his head shaking slightly. Many times he wished the clan cared this much throughout the moons. After all, the clan camp was practically sparkling, not a hair out of place. With a twitch of his whiskers, he began to clean his paw, distracting himself in a calm and not-noticeable way.
The evening grew darker before long, and the sire watched as many cats began showing signs of drowsiness and hunger. It was now that strangers drew near to the pile, their timid noses inspecting the bloody creatures with a disgusted glimmer in their eyes. Tauntingtear’s gaze swung to them, watching them without a word. A few backed away hurriedly, mumbling quick mutters of unease. But even so, some took tentative bites before their gazes lit up and they dug in for more. This was of no surprise to the fur-covered feline, as it happened every year during the festival. The fresh-kill had even become an item of clan-life that truly intrigued kittypets and other kibble-eating strangers, if they had the courage to get past the bloody and disgusting outer side of the creatures. To many of his clanmates, this unease seemed exaggerated and unnecessary, but Tauntingtear had begun to understand over the moons. If he hadn’t been raised on it, he would likely feel similar.
If he hadn’t been raised on it, he would likely feel similar. But his many moments of pure thought didn’t last much longer. The sire’s tall ears twitched as the rubbing of branches and fur alerted him of an entering cat. His even gaze creeped towards the clan entrance, where a long-legged feline was now crouched, shrugging their way into the camp through lowered haunches and careful pawsteps. The feline’s bengaled pattern glowed in the evening sun, and recognition flared as the deputy recognized his leader’s scent. Lowering his paw and ceasing his hygienic routine, he watched his fellow clanmates as they also recognized Dawnstar, many taking steps forward to greet her with wide smiles. Dawnstar reacted similarly, her muzzle breaking into a grin before long. However, Tauntingtear stayed where he was, simply observing the interactions with a careful twitch of his tail. He had no specific inclination to greet the leader, and was quite fine here, where he could easily watch the organized chaos of the clan camp. However, he gave a curt nod of greeting to the molly, no emotion truly shining through his expression. In no way was he annoyed or unhappy, just simply distracted. However, his expression changed slightly as another cat crawled through the entrance after her, a lean tom with a rugged, muscled look. His thoughts bled through his concentration once again, observative gaze narrowing as he watched the snowy-white tom. A rogue, it seems. Nose twitching again, his tail curled around his paws. He smells of prey. His gaze stayed on the strange tom as Dawnstar leapt onto the vantage point high above the clearing, a familiar voice ringing through the ushered silence. "Let all cats old enough to hunt beyond the Tall Grass meet beneath the High Ledge for a clan meeting."
It was only now that his gaze snapped away, his haunches rising as he broke into a slow gait. Pawsteps careful and determined, the sire stalked towards the front of the commotion, finding his way close to the vantage point. His tail twitched in thought as he walked, only murmuring quick greetings to any cat who attempted to exchange a word with the tom. His gaze was set though, and it was obvious he had lots on his mind. His expression drew few, and those who did speak a word faded away as the meeting began. The sire listened with silent intent, in no way surprised by the cause of the meeting. It was impossible, however, to ignore the murmurs of unease that soon rippled through the clearing, and Tauntingtear glared at some particularly outgoing cats, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, his gaze rested on the tunneler Carrionsaunter, and his gaze only narrowed further. The tom’s neck and back fur had begun to bristle, hushed growls crawling from his throat. Tauntingtear hadn’t known the tunneler to be outspoken or necessarily ‘outwardly rude’, but he seemed quite perturbed at this moment. Momentarily ignoring him, Tauntingtear watched Dawnstar for the remainder of the meeting. He waited until she had finished her announcement of the day's end, ducking his head as she mentioned Silkstar. Assuming the commotion would silence itself throughout the night, he turned to walk off… but a meow rang through the clearing before long, from Carrionsaunter himself. It was obvious the tom was very unhappy with this ‘temporary apprentice’ business, but his behavior was quite dramatic. Taking a step towards the tom, Tauntingtear’s low voice rumbled from his throat.
“Greetings, Carrionsaunter. Is there a problem?”
Peachpurr:
Peachpurr noticed Twinkle’s queasy hesitantcy and gave the kittypet what she hoped was a comforting look. Where others would have lost their patience or abandoned the fluffy damsel with an annoyed huff, the Siamese waited for Twinkle to claw one of the cleaner mice towards her, dragging the tiny, limp body through the dust. The Medicine cat was known to be one of the most, if not the most, patient cats in the Clan, one had to be in order to be a healer. If you asked Peachpurr, patience was just a part of the job. She nodded supportivly, waiting for Twinkle to duck down to give her prey a doubtful taste before bending down herself towards a hare on the smaller side. She thought better of telling Twinkle then, of how her father used to tell her that a headless and tailless rabbit would look just like the body of a cat, a headless and tailless cat. ”You can’t tell the difference! Without the head and tail” her father used to say all the time, whenever the subject of rabbits had come up, always earning himself disgusted glares and disagreeing yowls from her family. Her nostalgic chuckle was cut short as a yowl, one here and now, tore through camp. Her icy eyes flashed up, landing on Dawnstar up on her ledge, looking regal and stunning in the amber light on her pelt, as always. The hare dangled from her watering jaw and for a moment Peachpurr deliberated on just taking it with her. Regrettably, she had to drop the succulent prey back onto the pile, feeling Twinkle’s nervously surprised gaze burning the back of her head. “Looks like Dawnstar’s fixen’ to give us an announcement.” She swung back around to the kittypet next to her, who she noticed hadn’t been able to take a bite either, adding sacastically, “and her timing’s perfect.” She invited Twinkle to follow her with a flick of a sandy tipped tail as she joined the gathering hubbub at the base of the ledge, claiming a spot for both of them to sit and watch.
The Medicine cat didn’t mind usually sitting in the back, though she wouldn’t see anything past the taller warriors and most of the time just poked her head out of her den, if possible. This time, she found a rather nice spot closer up for Twinkle to have a nice view. As the crowd settled down around them, Peachpurr noticed with a huff that everyone seemed to be as full as a tick, already half-asleep after their Festival feast. Her own stomach gave a pitiful grumble, thankfully not audible above the general chatter. Dawnstar began then, calling for attention, and the Siamese respectfully gave her leader her full attention, watching with a mix of awe and endearment. The rossetted statuette had come so far since first joining the Clan as a Tourist herself and Peachpurr saw her as a fellow comrade in arms. Somebody who had to fight for their place here, rather than just inheriting Clan blood. Peachpurr’s sky blue eyes widened as Dawnstar introduced Snowthistle, aware of Twinkle next to her. That’s her friend, isn’t it? My, my, did I pass out for a few days or is Dawnstar bringing him into the fold this quickly?
After her initial shock wore off, a fizzle of happiness and pride sparked through her pelt for the newcomer, even though she’d never met him. He must have made quite the impression on Dawnstar, to become her apprentice in all but a few hours within meeting her. Though Peachpurr had to admit she felt a bit jealous, that this tom had become a part of the Clan within a day while she had had to go back home and wait a year, the feeling passed over quickly. A mill cannot grind with the water that is passed, she reminded herself. And why not? Dawnstar was bringing about a new era of leadership, where cats need not waste years of their life, but were welcomed and accepted from the beginning, so why not start now, for the sake of the young? She smiled up at the pair on top of the ledge, wishing that the waves of happiness, approval, and pride could shine right out of her and wash over them as well. Something itched at the back on her mind as she laid eyes on the newly minced Temporary Apprentice, something familiar she might figure out later,,, his eyes. And his Clan name, as she’d questioned herself about earlier, but right now she was too caught up in the moment for that. The molly opened her maw to yowl her cheer, as they should to welcome Snowthistle, but was cut off by a gruff- and rather haughty if you asked Peachpurr- voice. All eyes shifted to the source, and the Medicine cat moved in sync, landing dissaprovingly on Carrionsaunter. She hoped he could feel her icy eyes on his rusty pelt telling him to freeze and shut his trap as she glared. Tauntingtear was already on his paws though, and Dawnstar could defend her own decision, they didn’t need her butting her head in as well,,, at least, not yet.
Twinkle:
Despite the young damsel’s curiosity at the yowl that had rang through the clearing moments ago, nausea still clawed at her belly like an attacker. Sympathy also rang at the back of her mind, though it was only for the small creature that now lay at her paws. The poor thing… She let out a worried sigh, ears lowering. What did it do to deserve this? Letting out a few disappointed clicks of her tongue, she turned back to the medicine cat, waiting for the peach-furred she-cat to let out a mew of explanation. In her own home, it had been rare to hear such a loud and confident yowl, especially with one of those words. She had never heard many of them, though throughout the day she had heard others say things like “clan”. She was still quite confused by the chaotic organization that seemed to frequent the clan camp. But still, her interest was overpowered by her energy from before, and she was unable to truly inspect the camp. Now that her mind had stilled into an eerie quiet, she was more able to look around and truly think about her surroundings. She had heard about the clan, indeed. Afterall, Snowthistle had come to her after asking the other felines in her area, before the snowy-white tom was pushed into her direction. She had heard tales and stories of vicious cats and great fantasies, but she had known the moment she had met the lean tom that he was determined. And inside, even she wanted to explore the great unknown, so she had agreed to guide the visitor to the camp, timing it perfectly to arrive during The Festival of Spring Tides. They had become close friends during the journey, though it was short and hurried. The kittypet felt as if she could safely confide in the tom now. Afterall, she had little experience with true friends. She believed Snowthistle to be the perfect friend!
Now, as Peachpurr looked over to the bengal molly from before, a hare dropped from the clan cat’s muzzle. The medicine cat let out a quick mew, beckoning with a quick twitch of her tail. ”“Looks like Dawnstar’s fixen’ to give us an announcement.” Twinkle nodded hurriedly, taking one last glance to look down at the bloodied creature, before shaking her head forcefully and sticking out her pink tongue briefly. Her pawsteps broke into a quick, relaxed gait as the damsel began to follow the medicine cat, weaving her way between other tourists and clan members alike. It seemed they weren’t the only ones gathering for this commotion, it must be important. However, the kittypet’s amber gaze soon found that of a snowy-white tom in front of him. Twinkle let out a quick and loud mew of greeting, though it faded quickly as the meeting started. Before long, Dawnstar motioned to the same white tom, calling him forward as something called a ‘Temporary Apprentice’. Snowthistle hopped onto the ledge beside the bengal-furred molly, his grin wide, but Twinkle’s heart fell. What is this- temporary apprentice and mentoring business? A clanmate? Is he part of the clan-? Her mind began to race, and her expression and stance seemed to mimic her thoughts. Her ears and tail began to droop as her fur lay flat, almost caving in on itself. She looked back up to the ledge, a hopeful glimmer in her eye, but the snowy-white tom was very distracted. The kittypet had thought of the tom’s odd request before, who else would want to travel to the clan?
But she hadn’t truly thought that he would just join right away. Part of her even believed that she was hearing things, or this couldn’t be right… but Snowthistle’s grin made all of those theories impossible. Head hanging low, she waited until the meeting seemed to conclude, and most cats began to disperse. Despite the commotion that was beginning to occur beside her, seemingly between two dark-furred strangers and Peachpurr, she stepped towards the ledge, normally-gleeful expression evaporated. “Snowthistle- what are you doing?"
Snowthistle:
Snowthistle pricked his wide ears as Dawnstar began her formal announcement. His tail waved behind him in unsuppressed excitement, her voice like, though loud and clear, sounded like the smoothest honey to his ears. He didn’t have to wait down below for long, as the great leader called for him and beckoned with her tail tip. A grin cracked his jaws as he crouched down, bunching his leg muscles and leaping up the high rock to join the rosetted molly. For a moment, he felt the world swim below him as he gazed down at all the cats. The vantage point was so different than anything he had experienced, even in trees. Like this, all these cat eyes up at him instead of bristling undergrowth, he almost get nauseous. As he allowed himself to adjust, his own ears rang lowly with a vibrating frequency of panic. It only took a few mouse-tail-lengths of time for everything in his body to settle. The tension that had sprung between his shoulders settled, and he was able to relax his whole body and raise his head confidently. His tail, which had lowered once the rock was beneath his thing paws, raised high again in pride. The murmurings from below in the clearing hadn’t reached him. All his senses were now honed in on Dawnstar’s continued words and the bursting of his heart. The white tom felt like yowling his happiness to the world as the young leader praised him. Strongest asset! he cheered in his head. He turned slightly towards Dawnstar, then glanced down at his new Clanmates. His two eyes shone like stars in the dying light of the sun, the deepness of both the blue and green of either brightening. Only then did he notice uneasiness in the crowd, as Dawnstar’s tail curled over his shoulders. His pelt began to prickle slightly in warning as he met the furious glare of a dark-pelted Tom near the edge of the crowd.
His tail stilled. Snowthistle’s grin faltered at the edges but continued on strongly nevertheless. He broke the gaze of the angry tom cat and turned his head to touch noses with Dawnstar, murmuring a breathless thank you to her in return. He barely heard the rest of the announcement as he stepped back to give the Clan the leader’s full attention. His eyes sought out Skyrose’s down below, his smile strengthening once more as he saw the blatant happiness in her face. Only to be wiped away as the brown tom from before took an arrogant step towards the leader’s perch, directly challenging Snowthistle. The pale tom himself felt his heart speed up as the insult smacked him clear in the face. Fury scorched through his veins, making his hackles raise as the other cat’s did. He spared a glance through heated bi-color eyes at Dawnstar, his anger, he realized with surprise, mostly coming from the challenge to her words and not the injury to his own character. Still as he opened his maw to potentially growl back, he noticed another cat jaunt forward towards the other and address him. Tail lashing, the white tom huffed in frustration, feeling bewilderment at how things began to unfold. It was only enhanced as a familiar, bell-toned voice rose out as well. Twinkle? Snowthistle felt alarm make him stiffen, as he turned his eyes away from the challenge down to his kittypet friend. She was sitting beside an older cat with cream fur and fiery points, and her face made him feel stricken. Mouse-brain! You should have told her first, he despaired to himself. “I-er-“ he called down to Twinkle, eyes shooting between her and Carrionsaunter—who he didn’t yet know the name of, nor who was with him. He began to realize how convoluted this all was. His head spun and he took a step backwards, farther on the rock and more in Dawnstar’s shadow. His successful outing came slamming together with the unknown of this Clan, their traditions, and the cats within.
He glanced again at Dawnstar, feeling his inexperience rising. Should he address the warrior, or his best friend?
Skyrose:
Sitting nearly at the very front of the other cats, Skyrose’s entire purpose was focused on her son and the leader. She watched with controlled glee as the Bengal pelted she-cat called the young tom up onto the rock. Her heart spread its wings and waited patiently for flight as Dawnstar’s introduction filtered over and down to the cats below. She almost rose to her paws in triumph, as if it was her own induction ceremony many moons ago. Ever since he had arrived, she had felt confused and taken aback. Now that he was some distance away, and the reality of his coming to the Clan, was settling into her fur, she couldn’t help but feel positive. It was the happiest she had felt in a long time, even if she didn’t entirely show it in her body language or facial features. Instead, pink nose twitching, she relegated all her joy to just a few motions of her face. Twinkling eyes, twitching whiskers, a shadow of a smile. His long lithe back and tail silhouetted beside Dawnstar, Snowthistle looked like a champion to Skyrose. She was purposefully unaware of the other Clan cats reactions, up until the haughty voice of Carrionsaunter rose above the mumblings as the announcements dove towards the end. Her heart’s wings, ready to take flight, lashed in anger at the intrusion. Her gaze of one icy blue and blazing yellow swiveled as she stood. Her snowy pelt fluffed out in outrage and, like a mother’s furious instinct, her claws slipped out of their protective sheathes. Her tail lashed as she stalked a few steps toward the challenger, sparing a glance up at her son as he floundered with it all. Her head turned at the call of an unfamiliar voice, spotting a delicate looking gray and white she-cat staring in bewilderment up at Snowthistle.
She shook her head to dismiss it, glare focused on Carrionsaunter as the deputy, Tauntingtear, trotted towards him. Skyrose may have been uncertain about where she and her son stood with each other, and barely knew him to boot, but she felt the fire of preparedness to defend him. Her son would be part of this Clan.
Carrionsaunter:
His pelt bristled as he felt crowded at each angle, his pelt bristling with rage as few cats turned to face him, expressions full of nothing but question, bewilderment, and similar anger though now against him. Though he felt he was alone on this, he'd stand up to speak either way. He twitched with bitter irritation, his tail curling to and fro as he bristled the fur along his spine, his tail bushing out wildly behind him. He shot Skyrose a venomous glare, threatening her to silence, his claws scraping the ground as a kittypet spoke up. Take the flea-pelt back. We don't want him. Yet he seemed to realize he was out numbered. No cat stepped up to agree with him, and no cat backed him as he challenged his leader's authority head on. It seems your mind is already made up. He caught Dawnstar's glare and returned it with malice.
"That is enough Carrionsaunter. Unless you'd like to spend the rest of your days shovelling dirt from the dirt place, I suggest you wisen up." Her tail flicked to and fro as she hardened her shoulder against Snowthistle, supporting both herself and the tom beside her. Carrionsaunter's chest flared with furious heat. He flexed his claws and narrowed his eyes, more whining on the tip of his tongue as a stormy shape took a step ahead of him, covering his body in it's dark shade. Frantically he stared straight upwards, searching for the features of the cat blocking his sight. Tauntingtear! You fox-hearted excuse for a deputy. Carrionsaunter flattened his ears and winced as if his words raked his muzzle, his icy tone brushing his pelt the wrong way. He shot him a glare before lowering his spine, the only give to his irritation being the flick of his tail tip. Hesitantly, he backed away, his gaze atill locked on the alabaster intruder. "No, Tauntingtear. There isn't." His gaze fixed on Snowthistle's own, as if attempting to feed the tom all his malicious thoughts from where he sat. Yet, he knew a losing battle when he saw one. The open opposition against him was enough to keep the riled tom from doing something irrational.
He looked down at his paws after scorching the tom's face with his putrid stare, now lost on the muddy sight of his paws. He flexed them and lapped eagerly, his tail curlinf calmly beside his flank. As Tauntingtear moved from his direct vision, the grisly tom bore a snarl of warning in Snowthistle's direction, before focusing on his own cleaning, out right ignoring the deputy and not respecting Dawnstar with as much as a response. His flaring nostrils grew hot as he caught his leader's gaze, her soft features stretched and deepened with boundless rage, cooped up inside her young little head. Carrionsaunter almost scoffed. Dawnstar had become as easy to read as the rest of his clan mates, and it was simple to rile her up. Not like that was his goal here or anything, but it was still noted. He recalled the way her tail tip twitched and her eyes smoldered into the pelt of whomever her rage was directed towards, as if the leader herself was attempting to scald cats with her sight alone. He suppressed a purr. It was never his intention to be on her bad side, but he wasn't one to accept just anything thrown at them. If they had a useless member of the clan, one who hadn't proven anything to his clanmates to earn their respect, what was the purpose of them joining the clan at all? We're called clanmates for a reason. Mates, littermates, clanmates, we're all connected in that way. Where does kittypet fit in there? Exile? Rogue, Loner? The answer was simple. It doesn't. And if he can't prove he's worthy, he won't be welcome. Starclan help this mange-pelt if he's to sleep in my den.
Tansypaw:
As soon as Dawnstar’s cool voice pooled out over the clearing, smoothly delivering the unnerving news and announcing a “Temporary Apprentice”, Tansypaw’s pelt began to prickle, her tail twitched at its ginger tip, eyes darkened to a deeper green. Snowthistle? What had happened to having to be a ‘paw first? A flash of envy seeped from her eyes, leeching out along with a knot of instant resentment in her stomach. Why did this Snowthistle character get to skip right to receiving his Warrior name? The day he joined the Clan no less?! Why not just make him a Warrior already then, or why stop there: how about deputy then, since he was already up there, acting so important, looking down on them from on top of his high ledge. She watched with silent frustration as he hopped up next to Dawnstar, but the roar of blood in her ears and thoughts in her head dissipated as Snowthistle turned his gaze in her direction in his scan of the clearing below. For a jarring moment, Tansypaw thought Skyrose had jumped up on the ledge instead, and the ginger-white molly was completely thrown off. No, this wasn’t her mentor. Skyrose hadn’t changed her name and joined the Clan as an apprentice once more. This was a tom, lankier than her muscled teacher, with a thinner pelt. Tansypaw might not have noticed if she hadn’t been spending everyday of her life for the last few moons with the white-furred molly, but now the resemblance was unmistakable. And- yes, there she was!
A quick search of camp revealed Skyrose up at the very front of the amassed crowd, which Tansypaw would have thought imposible was she not seeing it with her own eyes. The with-drawn mentor she knew would never squeeze her way to the center of the commotion and attention. What was so special about Snowthistle? What did Skyrose care about him for? Dawnstar’s authoratative meow broke through the fluff in her ears and relief and jealousy clashed throughout her pelt. On one paw she was glad that Skyrose wouldn’t be dropping her like a wet pigeon to train this rogue instead, but on the other, Snowthistle would be trained by Dawnstar herself? The leader of the Clan of Sunlit Prairies!? What did he do to gain that honor? What more could he have done to prove himself than Tansypaw herself? She was more qualified, more worthy, of being Dawnstar’s apprentice! Even if Snowthistle would keep Dawnstar occupied, would he be keeping Skyrose occupied all for himself from now on as well? Her teacher would certainly have other things on her mind now. Skyrose was her mo- mentor! She should be focusing all her attention on her apprentice! From where Tansypaw was sitting, she couldn’t see Skyrose’s face, but she could just imagine her sparkling bi-colored eyes, twinkling with pride (which was usually reserved for only Tansypaw!) at that little white rat on the highlegde, shining all her attention up onto him.
And not only would she have to be sharing Skyrose with him, but most likely she’d have to be sharing her den with him as well! Was she to sleep with this- this rogue right next to her?! The green-eyed she-cat was pulled out of her corollaries by the whisperings surronding her, shocking her with new tidings. Could Snowthistle have come here with that name already? Was he from Hanging Canopies? If so, was she to sleep with a potential criminal next to her? What could he have done to be kicked out- murdered somebody?? Tansypaw blinked at the sudden yowl, thinking for a moment that she had accidentally spoken out without meaning to. The octave was deep enough to be hers, but she always moved it up a notch, besides it was too breathy to be hers. No, swiveling her large head to the side, she spotted Carrionsaunter, bravely standing up to this unprecedented announcement. She contemplated joining him and making her opinion known as well, but a quick scan of camp revealed that it seemed to be the unpopular side, from the glares sent the Tunneler’s way. She decided to keep quiet afterall, Dawnstar had made her desicion already and Tauntingtear was already quieting Carrionsaunter down. There was no point in making enemies out of the majority and siding with the unpopular, grouchy Tunneler. Realizing her muscles had been taut and rigid, she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax and watch the following commotion with an indifferent gaze. She agreed with Carrionsaunter, Snowthistle should prove himself to all of them, not just to their leader in private, who lets face it, was already biased in his favor due to her own background. This was how trouble began! When you started welcoming in any and all strangers into your home as soon as they showed up!
Dawnstar:
At once, the bright shimmering pride she'd felt in her clanmates was swiped away by the rumbling outburst below her. Stunned, Dawnstar blinked rapidly at Carrionsaunter. What is he doing? As his words pierced the warm air, Dawnstar felt her hackles raise defensively, and the noble molly fought to keep them down. She had no idea why any cat would oppose her, especially like this. In the middle of a meeting I called? How disrespectful. Her lip curled and she fought the urge to yowl into his face, though as she felt Snowthistle stiffen beside her she recognized that as a poor decision. She would need to come across as a graceful leader, not some naive cat who screeches at her clanmates whenever they disagree with her. Sure, cats had other opinions, but what was the reason behind his? She felt weak when she could not wrap her head around it. The leader of a clan should be all-knowing. I did the best I could for my clanmates with what I've been given. Why can't they just support my decisions?
She flared her chest and puffed her lips as the tom groomed instead of replying to her. Her scorching gaze grew into a burning stare as if attempting to will the tom into daring to speak out again. Yet he didn't. She silently thanked Tauntingtear from where she stood, bowing her head to the tom when he looked back to her. She cast a long gaze upon her side, her once twinkling gaze now hardened and irritable from the interruption that had occured. Beside her, Snowthistle's expression was unreadable. She brushed her pelt against his, her tail swishing over her flank as she rose it to wave to her clan mates. "If there are no further objections, than this meeting has come to a conclusion. I bid you all a good night." The molly's tone was laced with unspoken fury, her tone shifting and burning with an underlying cruelty. She flattened her chest to the stone, gazing down at the faces peering up at her curiously, before they nodded and began to disperse. Dawnstar felt she needed a moment to cool off, lest she ran into Carrionsaunter herself. She leapt without warning, landing next to Skyrose before she spun around, bounding away into her den with an irritable flick of her tail. There would be no further training for Snowthistle tonight, so the molly decided to tuck in early. The Tunneler's outburst had irritated her so much that her pelt itched. She flexed her claws as she flopped into her nest, her legs played out in front of her. She didn't feel tired, not even remotely- but she didn't feel like facing her clan mates again until she cooled off. She had a feeling Snowthistle would be fine from then on. Any further interaction with Carrionsaunter would likely result in an argument, and she was positive she'd hear from her vantage point to claw off his whiskers if she needed to. She tucked herself deep into her nest, her tail tio stretched out its full length, her body nearly taking up the small den.
Her scent now flooded it heavily, consuming it with her own pent up rage and the reminder of the evening she'd spent with their newest recruit. She flattened her ears as if the thoughts pained her, letting them wash over her dappled face before she scowled into darkness. For all I do for these cats, a few of them sure are ungrateful. How dare he question my authority? She hooked her claws into her soft moss nest, the scent of which was still flowing, ebbing and easing with her as she stared desperately at the back of the cave, as if it would hold the answers she was looking for. Yet obviously, nothing stood out. She flipped over and glared through the vines that cloaked the entrance to her den, as if expecting Carrionsaunter to pad in and turn himself in. She didn't even realize why she was so furious at him. He does this shit constantly, she bargained, her fur bristling along her spine. And every time it riles me up. Perhaps I should just make him a prisoner, it would help me sleep at night, thats for sure. Her tail bushed out as his words repeated in her mind, his empty insults he flung without reason. It had infuriated her as if they'd been aimed at her.
Snowthistle:
In his panicked confusion about that to do, the young white cat pricked his ears as Dawnstar growled down to the dark tom challenging him. He felt relief make his legs weak, realizing he didn’t have to defend himself right now, and had to stiffen them again to stop from falling to his belly. He sucked in a breathe quickly to calm the bristling of his fur. If Twinkle hadn’t pulled my attention away from that.. that tom, what would I have done? It could have been so easy for the haze of competition to filter over his eyes. What role did that cat even play? If he wasn’t a Sentinel, the Clan fighters, how did he know he could even fight back if Snowthistle had decided to attack? Not that he would have. The lithe tom shuddered as Carrionsaunter disengaged from the situation, though fury still bubbled in his stomach at he disrespect towards Dawnstar. As the great leader concluded the meeting, he began to turn to her to mumble-what? He wasn’t sure. But no worries, as her muscles bunched without warning, soaring down the ground and disappearing into her den. His multicolored eyes focused on Skyrose below, who was just relaxing her own raised hackles and flinching away from Dawnstar’s landing. Despite the mess that had become his ceremony, he couldn’t help feeling a glow of joy at the sight of his mother prepared to defend him. As the cats diapered, he pricked his ears in embarrassment as he recognized he was still on the highledge without Dawnstar. Quickly, Snowthistle jumped down and landed with a thump in the clearing, close to Skyrose himself. The two white cats locked eyes and he dipped his head ever so slightly. “Thank you, I guess I shouldn’t have hoped to be accepted so easily. We’ll talk another time, right? Excuse me.” Feeling awkward again, the tom gave her a twitchy smile and brushed past, weaving through the other cats as he tried to reach where Twinkle had been sitting. What was done was done, but he still needed to speak with her.
A song in his heart reminded him that it was his fault that the despair had crossed her face. How could he have betrayed her so easily? What kind of friend was he?
Skyrose:
She dug her claws into the hard, sun-scorched earth of their camp at Carrionsaunter’s glare directed at her. Ever since she had joined, Skyrose had been a quiet, if disgruntled, Clan member. She had met her trial to join the Clan and did so with whatever honor she had left, and had been serving them dutifully for moons. A little part of her murmured that these Clans cats knew nothing of hardship like she, and Snowthistle, had faced. If they heard half of what they had gone through (granted, she didn’t know what her son had really gone through), their self-satisfied faces would fill with dread. It didn’t matter right now if her Clanmates has faced their own hardships; her heart was closed to anything else. She imagined that this fox-hearted, little weasel! couldn’t begin to understand Snowthistle’s background. Her tail lashed behind her, her mind started to climb up and up into the varying ledges of anger, Skyrose took another step. How dare this flea-bitten cat think he could stop her with a look. He wasn’t so above her to do so. She could beat him. As a low rumbled growl began in her throat, she stopped again, looking up as Dawnstar spoke once more, dismissing the meeting. Haughtily, she raised her head and began to let her hackles fall. Skyrose sneered in Carrionsaunter’s direction, her mismatched eyes twinkling. Lucky cat. Crawl back into a hole. Distracted by her internal name-calling, she flinched back as a thump beside her announced Dawnstar’s dismount. Saying nothing, she momentarily watched as the rosetted molly trotted away. If she looked closely, Skyrose could swear smoke was coming up from the furious she-cat. At least the snowy cat could count on the leader to defend and protect Snowthistle. She flicked her gaze over as he came down from the sturdy rock as well, dipping his head and meowing a few words before dashing off. She said nothing still. Feeling her body heavy with thoughts, the she-cat felt many emotions swelling up.
She sheathed her claws and sent a glare around the clearing, at anyone who might dare approach, then stalked off towards the Sentinel’s den. Tomorrow would be a normal day; she needed a good rest.