|
|
Post by D a R K - R a H on Nov 23, 2007 13:41:35 GMT -5
As usual, he was laying in her den once more. Yawning off the last of his prey-filled dreams, Swiftclaw lifted his head and looked over at the lump of fur at his side. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. The flank he had against hers was too cold. Her fur was too still. But, most of all, he knew it deep down inside. A kind of ache had filled him from the moment he'd opened his eyes that morning.
"F-fernstar?" he called quietly. Slowly, and almost fearfully, he leaned forward to touch her cheek with his nose. A cry left him in an instant. The tabby she-cat was stiff and cold. There was no point searching for wounds or a cause of death... Swiftclaw already knew. Fernstar had just lost her will to live.
The tom's cry echoed once more from the den, this time louder. He leaned close to her body, pulling her close one last time. He clamped his green-tinted eyes shut and breathed in her scent. Not even thinking about it, Swiftclaw's pink tongue swiped gently over his sister's ears, little whimpers leaving him as he did. In the depths of his mourning mind, a sudden memory surfaced, one he hadn't contemplated in quite some time.
Little Swiftkit looked up at the two cats with wide, horrified eyes. He may have been young, but he understood perfectly what the word "kittypet" meant. Mosstail was gone.
"No!" he cried aloud, causing the two cats to turn sharply to him in surprise. "No, she can't be gone!" the tom-kit cried again. Suddenly his eyes darkened further. "This is all your fault!" he yowled at the tabby she-cat nearest him. Her light green eyes widened in surprise and pain. "You drove her away!" Swiftkit lunged forward, batting his small paws at her side. She made no move to stop him, nor did any of the other cats around them.
He only stopped once his energy failed him and the tom-kit sank to the ground, whimpering. He didn't notice, nor did he really care, which cat it was that gently lifted him and took him back into the nursery.
The grown Swiftclaw opened his eyes, gazing down at her face. She looked so peaceful for once. He knew now, without question, that it had been her who'd taken him back into the nursery. Just as it'd been her who'd slip into the nursery to keep him warm at night, then leave before he woke in the morning. He recalled her face when she'd given him his warrior name. She'd been so proud of him...
"I'm so sorry," he murmured to her, praying that she'd somehow hear. |
|
|
|
Post by Wazo on Dec 2, 2007 16:53:39 GMT -5
Wingedheart had been dozing in her den in BrookClan, dreaming of the days where she didn’t have to be wary of her clanmates, or hesitate to trust absolutely. She awoke suddenly, blinking the sleep out of her pale green eyes and stretching her limbs. The camp looked strangely empty with the disappearance of her clanmates and Wingedheart felt herself burn with anger at the thought of them abandoning their birthclan to an unknown fate. She had stayed behind, out of loyalty to her clan, rather then agreement with Fernstar’s decisions. She had done wrong, but Wingedheart knew it had only been out of desperate need for her clan. It had just gotten out of hand. Wingedheart knew that Fernstar would have never made that decision for her own ambition.
Wingedheart stared at the wall, the den utterly quiet and for once in her life, she felt terribly alone. What would become of them? The rest of the clans had left, the foxes were still a presence here, and they were more vulnerable then ever. She didn’t know how much of a help she would be, but she knew she would do everything she could. She stretched her limbs and pressed down her fluffy damp fur from the morning chill and stepped outside of the den. She looked around the camp and saw so much that still need to be done, moss collected, prey hunted, borders patrolled. Wingedheart felt seized with helplessness at their state. One thing at a time…she told herself, ready to do what she could to restore BrookClan.
|
|
|
|
Post by Raven-chan on Dec 2, 2007 18:18:06 GMT -5
Goldenrage had been restlessly pacing the outside of the camp, close to the barrier, his fiery eyes burning. He hadn't left with the others. He hadn't abandoned Fernstar. He didn't disagree with her. She was only trying to do what was best for her Clan; he didn't care what the others thought of her 'horrible actions.' Goldenrage still had faith in her, and in BrookClan. His claws were extended, and his ears were pricked, alert.
Suddenly, those attentive ears caught something, a sound. A horrible, heart-wrenching sound, coming from Swiftclaw. Goldenrage made one more quick lap before bolting into the camp, his large form causing dust to stir. He passed Wingedheart without a glance and stopped abruptly in front of Fernstar's den.
What he saw made his blood run cold. Everything inside of him burnt out, all of his soul, all of his heart. His fiery golden eyes dimmed to a dull, hopeless amber, but he shook his head trying to get rid of the emotion. His tail fell to the ground, and he lowered his head out of grief for his leader, and out of respect, and out of sorrow for Swiftclaw.
Could things possibly get any worse? Even when the others had left, they'd still had Fernstar. And, since their deputy, that backstabbing Redstorm left, now they had no leader. Goldenrage stepped forward, quietly, to press his nose into Fernstar's cold, cold fur. A small hiccup was the only sound that he made, for Goldenrage was stoic enough to keep himself from crying in front of others, though he knew that the tears would fall tonight.
He lifted his head and looked to Swiftclaw, meowing in a broken, deep voice, "When you're ready, we should take her body out to the clearing...so that, the others can mourn." Others? WHAT others? They all left, betrayed their Clan, their home! They betrayed Fernstar, and for that, he hated them. The next time Goldenrage saw Redstorm, fur was going to fly...if he ever saw the other tom again. Traitor.
He lowered his head again, unable to keep his grief hidden, his heart-break disguised. His heart and trust had been broken one too many times lately...why was it that everyone left? Why was it that everyone he loved died? Or disappeared? Why?! |
|
|
|
Post by Wazo on Dec 2, 2007 18:35:14 GMT -5
Wingedheart's eyes flickered over to Goldenrage as he past by her without a glance and she followed him, wondering what the commotion was about. She stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing Fernstar's body and although she tried to stop herself, bitter tears filled her eyes. She tried to be angry at Fernstar, but upon looking at her former leader, Wingedheart couldn't help but remember looking up to Fernstar as a kit, proudly recieving a mentor, and finally a warrior's name. She might try to hate Fernstar for her actions, but she was always a part of Wingedheart everytime another cat called out her name.
She bowed deeply, her body shaking slightly as she remained silent and let Swiftclaw continue to mourn for his sister. She backed out of the den and her eyes fell upon Goldenrage. It seemed like they were the only beings left in this camp, against the odds, and utterly alone. She had never really had much of a friendship with him before but with the clan half deserted, BrookClan needed to stay together.
She sat near him, a few paces away, her eyes clouded with grief and anger and acceptance that nothing was going to change or go away and they needed to do something about him. "BrookClan isn't finished," she started in her soft musical voice, slightly shaky with sadness at the morning's events. "We can still turn things around," she ended simply, staring ahead at the horizon.
|
|
|
|
Post by D a R K - R a H on Dec 6, 2007 20:49:57 GMT -5
He remained in that position for several moments, not paying any mind to Goldenrage or Wingedheart at first. Slowly, though, he let his grip on Fernstar's limp body relax. Blinking back his sorrow, Swiftclaw slowly stood and stepped over the she-cat's limp form. Gently, as if she were a tiny kit, he lifted her by her scruff and tugged her body easily from the den.
His green eyes glancing only briefly at Goldenrage and Wingedheart, he moved passed them to the center of their make-shift camp. This was where the clan gathered often, mourning over the lost and dead. So many had laid there lately...
The thought made Swiftclaw's blood heaten in anger. They were practically rogues anymore! BrookClan had once been a powerful force to be reconned with. Now they had been reduced to a meager half-dozen hungry cats. The warrior code was falling to shambles around them. But what did it matter anymore? They were the only clan left. Even most of the rogues nearby had left. The Hollows was empty except for random patrols of foxes. Kolette's rule had done more than scare off the clanners, it had scared off prey, too.
The birds should have been returning at that point, the rabbits running once more, and the fish beginning to spawn. But it wasn't quite like most newleaf's. There were a sparce few birds in CherryClan's forest (when the BrookClanner's worked up the courage to go that far), the rabbits had fled or been killed, and the brook was spoiled with death.
Swiftclaw sighed aloud, his eyes darkening. "It's time we won the forest back," he said softly, looking up from his sister's body. When he turned his gaze to Goldenrage and Wingedheart, both precious, loyal warriors, the black and white tom's face was set with determination and anger. |
|
|
|
Post by Raven-chan on Dec 7, 2007 0:11:51 GMT -5
Goldenrage's eyes were shadowed over, consumed by grief, shoving him into thought. He was thinking about the past, the present, and the future, all in torrents of memories and broken dreams, flooding him, engulfing him. But Swiftclaw's movement jerked him out of his thoughts, and he padded after the tom, not really having heard Wingedheart. Then, he realized she was there, and beckoned for her to come.
He stood in front of Swiftclaw, by Fernstar, strong and stoic, his eyes glimmering with hope that seemed to be reborn, and desolation that seemed to never leave. His tail was flicking, his muscles were twitching. He wanted a fight. He was ready for his forest back, he was ready for his life back. He was ready- now.
The birds that used to flock the sky and touch Goldenrage's soul were gone. The brook and the lake, where he and Hailstorm had spent many a sunhigh, was spoiled, rotten, no longer worthy of his attention. The memories were too many, the foxes' reign, too supreme.
But now...now, he wanted his life back. Not necessarily for him, but for what few cats remained of his beloved BrookClan. At Swiftclaw's simple yet so deep words, the fire leapt back into Goldenrage's eyes, and you could easily tell that he would do anything to gain back what once was theirs.
"I will do anything and everything- what have I left to lose?" |
|
|
|
Post by Wazo on Dec 8, 2007 1:23:01 GMT -5
Wingedheart padded after Goldenrage, her pale green eyes dimming upon seeing Fernstar's body laying in the center of the camp. She didn't know what was keeping her paws moving anymore, day by day, it seemed everything she cared about was slowly fading away. Even the morning light was sometimes unable to coax her out of her den, for fear of what new tragedy she would find if she left her slumber.
Wingedheart sat next to Goldenrage, her usually vibrant white, black, and orange fur drooping against her skin from lack of care and prey. Her body looked weary and worn out, but she straightened at Swiftclaw's and Goldenrage's words. It was high time.
She nodded in agreement. "It's time we show that this isn't BrookClan. BrookClan is a clan that can stand through starvation, betrayal, death, and still be able to make it through the worst life can throw at us," she commented quietly. "I believe we can do this. This is my home, my clan, and I refuse to see it die."
|
|
