x|xbeginwithno E N D

[Patmos]

the STEEPEST ravine;;

rainSTAR[inwaiting]
willowLEAF[toberedone]
treePAW[toberedone]

the DEEPEST brook;;

frostFLIGHT

[Patmos]

Willowpaw

Overview:

-Medicine cat
-RavineClan
-Tom
-11 moons


Appearance:

-Small
-Brown tabby
-Blue eyes of his mother

Personality:

-Kind and caring
-Curious
-Impulsive

Family:

-Father, Rootstripe
-Mother, Softflower
-Brother, Sagepaw
-Younger Sister, Treepaw
-Younger Brother, Rootpaw
-Younger Sister, Mosspaw

Others held dear:

-Mentor in StarClan, Leafpelt
-BrookClan friend in StarClan, Duckpaw
-Fellow medicine cat, Silverhawk

[Patmos]

Frostflight

There's an art in seclusion. Production in depression
If a stranger turns up missing, this song is my confession
Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands
Losing self in myself, inner demons make demands

The night sky stretched across the above. The moon, the stars, invisible. Obstructing their path of light is nothing but thick grey clouds. The dull grey that brings nothing but silence. Too light to be rain. Too thick to be just passing through. It's only a matter of time before the gentle quiet drapes over the stillness. Everything poised, waiting for this one experience. The air was frigid enough for housefolk to bury their noses and rosy cheeks in their cloths. Wrapped in the cocoons they cling to for warmth. To scurry into their homes quickly. Piling the the wood into the pit. Igniting it. Pressing little squares on the wall.

Warmth. Required for housefolk life it seems. Breathing and eating? Who cares, it's freezing outside. But the beauty in their eyes. Staring through the class. Squealing with excitement. Snow reflected on the mirrors they use to see. The kits go to bed. Stomping up the stairs. The fire still roars. The silence never ceasing its decent. New mirrors come into view. Snuggling against the sweet milk scent. Other pelts rising and falling, feeding on each others warmth to get through the night.

A pearly white she-cat. Each limb long and elegant, her tail that would swish with every movement now still. The only sound emitting from her being the air through her nostrils. Her chest rising and falling evenly. Her brilliant green eyes hidden by her closed lids. Sleeping ever so gently. Two small kits by her belly. The tom, grey and white, nose buried into his mother. The she-cat, sitting upright. Eyes wide with blue. Carefully trotting away.

The big chair. Where the tallest deepest sounding housefolk sat. Now empty and forgotten for the night. Sitting silently by the window. Shifting her weight to her haunches, wiggling her behind, the kit leaped. Her front paws barely holding on to the seat. Wiggling and now dangling she pulled herself up. Bouncing along she climbed up the armrest then hopped to the windowsill.

The gentle silence of snow laid like a blanket over everything in sight. She leaned as far forward as she could. Her light pink nose pressed against the glass, making a cloud of heat around it. She pawed at the window, itching to go outside. To roll around and make the first tracks in the garden. The dark held no fright for her. She could identify every plant there. The bushes the pots. Everything. The fence was obvious. The hole, only she knew about.

So calm. So serene. The view almost lulled her to sleep. The soft fall of the snow. The quiet that stretched beyond the walls of the house. She curled up beside the window, her nose still touching. Her eyes began to droop. Each body part feeling settled, ready to drift off into a world that was even calmer than the one that lied outside. Her eyelids, about to fall, about to settle, just like the rest of her body. Half-way open. Studying the dark once more. The shape. The feel. Nearly closed. Movement. A pitch black shape that blended with everything leaped over the fence. It's back turned to Frost. A breath left her mouth, clouding the window. The shape turned. And stared right back at her. Closed. The night was over.

The sun couldn't be brighter than itself. It's own reflection glancing off the thick layers of snow. Intensifying every detail. Every flake. The float down from that world of perfection had finished. Frost woke, without opening her eyes. Excitement bubbling inside her. Ready for the first sight of the perfect winter day.

Hot breath rolled down her neck. A warm tonguing stroking frantically across her neck. The little kit opened her eyes to see...Her mother and her brother, hovering over her like vultures, trying to warm her. Oh yes. The first tracks in the snow would certainly be hers.

Life of a kittypet. So easy some might argue its not even a life at all. Everything handed to you. Food. Milk. Water. Everything waiting for you. Sofa cushions. Gardens. Stairs. All they ask is that you stay within their property line. Nothing could be easier.

But nothing could be harder. Frost the tiny little she-cat that can't stop running. That can't stop going places. New places. Fresh places. Secret places. Forbidden places. When everyone padded inside for meals it was easy as breathing to find the hole in the fence. To push the bush over it a little more. To save that particular freedom for the perfect day. The day her mother was due to go to the vet. The monster's feet rolled across the smooth path way. Gently, but still loudly. It turned and passed the fence, running away to a far unknown place. Maybe even a separate world.

"Let's go, Fresh!" She announced loudly.
"What?" He replied, his hatred for his nickname just barely glinting in his eyes.
"Mum's gone. That means we get to go too."
"What are you planning now?"
"There's a hole in the fence! Let's go!" She locked her teeth on his collar and dragged him along. It began to stretch until her brother kicked her off.
"I can walk!" He snapped.

Frost simply shrugged and bolted out the flap. Her littermate reluctantly following. The garden floor could be mistaken for a spotted pelt. The grass, short and new, poking out in misshapen circles. The snow, clinging in tight pools to the ground. The she-kit pelted across, her brother speeding up to keep sight of her. She clawed her way through the bush excitedly. Squeezing through the hole. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her brother appearing beside her.

"Frost..." He began. And her pleasant memory ended.

The timing was too perfect. The large wild cats looked as if they were waiting for the kits to come bursting out of the confines of their home. No witnesses. The shock a lump in their throats. Their squeals of protest doing no good. They grasped them by the scruff of their necks with their teeth that felt much more sharper than their mother's. Carrying them off with ease into the forest.

BrookClan they called themselves. And these two young cats they abducted would live with them and abide by StarClan's rules. It was a dream. It was a dream. But there was no way to convince anyone that this was not reality. That the cat she saw watching her in the garden was fiction.

"We'll have to hold a ceremony...."
No, no, no.
"We'll have Frostpaw mentored by..."
No, no, no!

________________________________
xx.with one step and everything freezes

Graceful pink pads and sheathed claws. Stepping as silently as the snow. A soft feminine curve to every edge. An autumn leaf in murky water in the winter. A sun in the night sky in summer. Even still, every movement is lined with a comforting cold. Spotless. Perfection. Dazzling white fur that makes the brown and green forest floor bland and ugly. As if nothing could match the almost silk like feeling paired with the beauty that is pure attraction.

xx.lightly&silently&the price that is paid.

Tiny. Fragile. A frozen flake fallen from a bleak sky into this world. Every inch screaming breakable! Are you sure she can fight? Are you sure she can kill? Can she hold her head on her shoulders or should she be cradled like a twoleg kit? Her body holds every organ every muscle needed for life for the lifestyle. All shrouded in a small delicate frame.

xx.if crystal balls hold the future tell me what you s e e.

Piercing. Twisting the claw in your stomach. No soft edge to shield you from the daggers of ice. The punctures of accusation and mistrust that spike directly to your heart. The fathomless black pupils that hold thoughts mistaken with thorns center this ever stabbing icicle. The middle of a harsh winter that rounds to form eyes. A perfect shade of light blue that no longer melts into a deep ocean that tastes of sweet. No doubt the past has abandoned the mind behind the eyes. Only to be replaced by the ever hated present.

________________________________
To be alone. Is that too much to ask for? A young beautiful she-cat such as herself shouldn't have to _beg for what she wants. The world she built in her mind; a special place of her design will cave in when everyone around her disagrees. Lucky for her she refuses to talk to them to let them get to know her so they will find this trait. What strengths has she brought to this clan? Her pigheadedness? Professing the perfection. It's her mother's fault of course. "My beautiful daughter!" Maybe she'd get more work done if she didn't stop to stare at herself in every pool of water.

[people are strange;when you're a stranger]

Anti-social. Well only until now. These strange cats that smell of dirt. These strange cats that let grime settle itself into their pelts. These strange cats that abducted her brother and herself and forced them to learn and adopt this new way of life. Everything is a choice. Say, what? Frostflight, the little she-cat who adored her past life is simply revolted by what surrounds her now. She wants no part of it. She does her best to keep her self-control. She doesn't approach them. She doesn't make a scene. Dropping her social butterfly attitude to blend into the background. Or at least try. She notices herself, in every which way, perhaps others notice her too.

[there's someone inside me;who softly kills everyone around]

To hiss and spit. Rude. And it mostly receives a colorful reaction. Provoked. Let's not go down that path, please? Frostflight has gained a sharp tongue, and she refuses to hesitate to use it. Over the moons she's lived with BrookClan, she's applied her self-control here. Be polite. Hold your tongue. Don't speak until you're spoken too. Let 'em have it if they ask for it.

[the grass is always greener on the other side]

If you crush a rock, a diamond lies inside. Even if this rock seems to be unbreakable. But she can be different. In a way you wouldn't guess. To be able to get in her head, a special reserved place there, whether she lets you in or you force it. Kind, patient, caring, understanding, talkative, happy. The she-cat that used to be. But no one has found this place. No one has discovered the diamond in the rock. The star in the apple. Except for those who have already been there.

moons;; 15
gender;; She-cat
clan;; BrookClan
rank;; Warrior

[/size]

[Patmos]

Rainwhisker

Overview:

-Leader
-RavineClan
-Tom
-48 moons

Appearance:

-Silver tabby
-Green yellow eyes
-Large build
-Short hair
-Picture

Personality:

-Responsible
-Loyal
-Caring

Family:
-Sister, Featherpaw

Others held dear:

-Apprentice, Beepaw
-Friends, throughout RavineClan