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Post by cheshy says grace on Sept 16, 2008 16:55:16 GMT -5
the preface [/sub][/color]
· call my name -- Z E B R A M A R C H E R
just p i e c e s of memories-- thezebra of E C L i P S E
· a g e -- twenty-one moons
· g e n d e r -- hidden b e n e a t h the g l a s s door [tom-cat]
· d. n. a. -- t a b b y m i x
· a l i g n m e n t -- watching a n d laughing a n d hurting. [deputy]
· s t a n d i n g -- h i d i n g inside t h e E C L i P S E [EC] · i m a g e s -- xx xx [/color] xx[/color] xx[/color] [/b] the story [/color]
• Physical Description
A sunbeam to warm you,
A moonbeam to charm you,
A sheltering angel, so nothing can harm you. [/i]
Zebramarcher can be considered beautiful, but not in the way that the world seems to immediately think when coming into contact with the word. Beauty is often recognized as something that gives deep pleasure and intense satisfaction to the senses, a meaningful design or pattern or even simply, something excellent of its kind. The tom-cat, when looked in this way, seems to be nothing out of the ordinary -- a simple cat finding his way into the world.
And, being biased and having grown up to a world where this act of normality is encouraged, Zebramarcher thinks that he's not special and certainly, of all things, he can not be considered good-looking, much the less beautiful. With a slender frame, he was often teased as a kit because he wasn't as muscular as the strongest apprentice, or that he didn't seem to be the smartest out of the bunch so it was only natural for him to grow up thinking that he's only average.
He's actually not, but compared to his sister, the latter statement is true -- he's just normal. In comparison to his outstanding parents, he can even be thought of as ugly. Obsidianstring, a lean warrior with an ebonite coat and silver stripes that placated it, was so handsome that he almost seemed to glow with every step; Buttonedrose, a young she-cat when she birthed her second litter Zebrakit and Mistykit, wasn't any less of an exquisite figure. With her delicate frame that paled with hues of rose beneath the ginger surface, and twinkling blue eyes, cats often stated that she was much too beautiful to be real, which in fact she was.
So when the two good-looking cats ended up together, even there pairing was quite the oddity among clans, and produced a second litter of two, surprise rippled throughout the clan at once spotting there eyes upon young Zebrakit. Lanky and disproportioned[sp?] in his younger years, the young tom-cat had been the object of amusement among young warriors and apprentices -- something that he certainly did not like, which evidently triggered his easy temper. Mistykit was something different all together, something that they had expected. A present of grace and beauty, she was the only one that managed to placate her fraternal twin whenever he became angry.
When he was younger, Zebrakit was somewhat handsome and he still is that same charming cat, however because of his quick-temper and rash decisions, cats began to dislike him. Glancing upon his slender frame, he has a certain calm-modesty about him that seems to charm many others. If not for his personality that, locked away and defensive, turns so many away, he would be quite popular. Much like his late father, the young deputy is quite the tom -- modestly good-looking in such a way that surely is one to be admired.
Starting out with his facial features, he sure is one heck of a cat. Bright blue pools of the darkened sea, a perfect match to his silver-lined coat, stand in the middle of his sharp head - hues of pale ivory, ebonite and gray merging into one beautiful figure. With the gentle curves of a feminine cat, his cheeks are sharply outlined in a jeweled silver and washed over with ivory lines, dark ebony shadows covering the rest of his face. A small pink nose lays in the center of his delicate face, accompanied by pearly white teeth, but don't mistake the cat a female - for if you do, you will surely get a lashing.
Many have commented him on he looks like the spitting image of his father, Obsidianstring, and even if the hot-headed deputy doesn't agree, for he heatedly argues every time another one implies the fact, it is quite true. Seemingly adorning a mask of true silver, sparkled with truest of ebonies and ivory, Zebramarcher is much like his father in one certain aspect that even he cannot deny if he were to see it in action. In his prime, Obsidianstring was an ambitious and valiant warrior, holding himself with such great pride that even the leader couldn't help but stare in awe -- the younger version of the once great warrior is exactly the same and everyone would be able to see it in him too, if not for his stubborn, steaming personality that drives too many away before they can get a closer look.
While his father has a face of pure black, flaked with paler hues of silver, the nineteen-moon old deputy has a sharp face of moon-washed silver, flecked with lightest of ivories, as the form is encased in a darker ebony. His cheeks, lush and round [perhaps a little more younger and cuter looking than he'd like it to be], are the same dark shade but in the right light seemed to be sprinkled with a snowy-white hue, looking very much like freckles. [which will most likely grow into stripes as he grows older]
Zebramarcher's beauty, much like his grandfather Astroblast, is much more modest than either of his parents or his sister. Obsidianstring was dashingly handsome, Buttonedrose was daintily beautiful and Mistyveil was simply adorable -- they held the kind of beauty that no one would be able to deny. However, if one wishes to see the beauty of the son of Obsidianstring, that cat would have to look much deeper. So very deep that no one is really sure if it's there or not. But it is.
When compared to others of his age, Zebramarcher can be described within two terms - lean but lanky, though the latter could be something he will grow out of. When his father had been the valiant Obsidianpaw, the tom was what most consider the textbook case for the ebonite tom had a strong frame, supported by round paws and broad shoulders -- his son, on the other hand, isn't anything like that. In fact, the tom is, for now, smaller. He is built on a smaller frame than most, and most of his physical appearance is. The soul exception would be his tail. For some reason, it is long, and thin in comparison to others. But it only helps with his balance. Since he is smaller over all, his paws are smaller, and daintier in appearance. These are attached to semi long legs, and powerful, though small shoulders. Over all, it seems that Zebramarcher's body is built for endurance, instead of short outbursts.
However, it isn't like it seems because the moon-washed tom has seemed to gained both traits from his parents. Buttonedrose, slim and sleek, could swim for miles on end where as Obsidianstring, inevitably stronger than his mate, seemed to survive better in battle where shorter bursts of energy were needed. Strength rippling beneath his slick coat, he is strong enough to stand his own ground but the hot-headed deputy, as it seems, prefers to be more elegant in the way that, like his mother, he'd rather prologue the win or loss. Running and swimming behind his favorite past-time, the deputy isn't as muscular as his cousin, Bearnose, and thus can't defeat another cat twice his size in a single blow, but Zebramarcher, with the frame of sleek hunter, defeats his opponents with more intelligent strikes. He's the type of cat to plan his win before actually preforming it -- almost like a mastermind if you will.
Having gotten his sharply angled face from his mother and strong jaw from his father, Zebramarcher's facial features are pretty normal, if there is such a thing. He has a triangular skull, with short fur covering it. On top of his head, are two ears, standing taller that most would find in a cat his size. Tiny tufts of a fuzzy black stand upon this large ears, barely visible in the sun. His forehead slopes gently down to the tip of his red-black nose. To either side of this nose, extend great, long, ivory whiskers, which blend in with the silver facial fur that surrounds his lean frame.
Surrounding his lean, slightly longer, neck is a coat of pale ivory that seems embossed in darker lines of a silver shadow. His chest is covered in a soft, creamy white that resembles, his mother often teased, the pearly whites of a fluffy cloud. His back is dark in color, resembling the night sky in which he got his name, but sports silver-white splotches that appear to look like the shimmering stars. Just like his half-brother, Chasmfur, his build isn't all that impressive -- in the sense that it doesn't stand out. Zebramarcher could care less about his looks, however, because their isn't anyone he really would like to impress. He isn't terribly muscular like his uncle, Riverblaze, or admirably lean like his cousin, Foxglove. In fact, the young deputy best resembles his half brother, Chasmfur, who was quite stream-lined and slender, but not enough for him to be mistaken as a she-cat.
Moving on, Zebramarcher has somewhat longer limbs that he will surely grow into, supported by a sleek, slender silver banner. His small paws, coated with a glowing ivory that fade to a darkened black, are often coated in a dusty layer of sand or water because, being the tom cat he is, he enjoys running around and enjoying every nook and cranny in and out of camp. His off-black legs, coated with fainter stripes, are long and lanky, granting him with the advantage of being quicker and limber than most of his clanmates.
And everyone thinks, upon first glance, that he is a wonderful tom with dashingly-good looks that's just enough to steal any she-cats breath away, but they take a second look and him and flee; why is that anyway? It doesn't matter, though, because Zebramarcher seems to be convinced that he is throughly and irrevocably convinced that he is - clearly - the average tom.
Cat's normally don't argue with him.
[/blockquote]
• Personality
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of
throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.
Since birth, many rumors spread about the young Zebramarcher and his family, but only about half of them were true. Almost as intolerably stubborn as his grandfather in this way, the young deputy isn't exactly socially ambitious. Cats always held some resentment for him, whether it because of being socially inept or simply hard-headed in his ways, but Zebramarcher never really cared. Where as his sister spent most of her time with their mother, the silver tom was forced to spend the majority of the day with his father but it was not like he had anything better to do. Obsidianstring taught him how to hunt and track before he even became an apprentice.
Of course, he taught Mistyveil these tactics as well but she seemed perfect in every way - 'My perfect princess,' he had told her fondly one evening when Zebrakit was watching - and there was not as much of a reason to spend time with her. It was easy to see that even Zebrakit didn't hold that special place in even his parent's hearts that he should have had from the beginning. Oh, of course they loved him too, but it wasn't something that just came to them, they loved him as if it was an obligation. A part of the young tom would always hate his parents for that.
Just like any other tom, Zebramarcher always hid his fear behind a mask of anger and stubbornness, believing that this resolve of his was better than facing the world with a bright, innocent face like his sister. He couldn't be like his sister, shower the world around her in her warm, irresistible glow and show everyone what she was really feeling so, instead, he hid behind his veil of emotions, making everyone believe that he was alright when it really wasn't. When six moons rolled around, the excitement of being apprenticed melted quickly into fear, much like ice on a spring day. While Mistykit paced the nursery for what seemed like ages, worried eyes darting back and forth quickly, even as Obsidianstring and Buttonedrose tried to console her from the wings, unsure Zebrakit sat at the edge of nursery, panic bubbling beneath his cool demeanor. Mistykit would be okay - she was perfect, what did she have to worry about ? - but he knew that he would not succeed as she had; he would fail like fate planned it. Everything, as he imagined StarClan would say, was going to turn out right in the end, and how it was supposed to be but that's what worried him the most.
Zebramarcher's personality has been described, many a time throughout his days as a member of EclipseClan, as highly and almost intolerably stubborn. The tom is extremely set in both his opinions and his daily patterns of behavior; while the latter seems to be only recently acquired, he has always been quite headstrong, whether his thoughts are contested by others or not. If he is involved in any type of argument, it is known throughout his Clan that said argument will most likely last until Zebramarcher either gets his way, or inevitably grows bored with the situation; either way, he has the tendency to believe that he is right, regardless.
The young tom has a very sharp tongue, often being the first to come back with a quick retort to most anything that meets with his disapproval. More than once, he has hurt the feelings of those around him with this habit, though he avoids doing this as best he can when around his Clan mates. Cats of different Clans, however, are a different story altogether; many cats know of the tom simply because of the witty but usually casual barbs that he throws at those around him. Zebramarcher has never shown true interest in gatherings, to be honest, and would rather stay home to guard camp then swap meaningless stories with his enemies.
Zebramarcher, however, beneath everything, is quite the loyal and trustworthy cat. There is hardly anything he enjoys more than taking time for himself by swimming or running and helping EclipseClan in whatever way he can. Despite the fact that he doesn't seem to share a fondness with much of the clan, he is very affectionate of the Clan’s younger members, and is always willing to share a story from the elders with the kits should they request it. While his understanding of the necessity of the warrior code can appear somewhat limited, at times, his faith in StarClan is unwavering, and he has no doubt that the Clans’ warrior ancestors will always be with them, regardless of the time or place.
Zebramarcher holds a certain interest for the stars and sky that gave him his name, but for the most part he shows minimal interest in day time and prefers to lurk at night. He is a quiet tom, often losing himself in the deep folds of his mind where the once innocent, heart-warming Zebrakit once lay. There was once - so long ago - a cat that had, if he were to try, captured the hearts of many but now, Zebramarcher hides his emotions and soul behind an unbreakable shell. Usually, the tom-cat is reserved, stoic - and all around anti-social. Although - he does let a few emotions slip out, namely expressions of anger, boredom, and annoyance. This front that Zebramarcher has placed has sadly driven away most cats, driving the tom to continue with this mask placed upon his features. In truth, he is simply a cat that longs to be loved and to show love however has no idea how to express this longing.
The one thing that cats find to be true about young Zebramarcher is his nearly unbearable fury, the anger at his parents for leaving him, that unfailingly continues to bubble near the surface of his heart, colder than the most ice and hotter than coals dipped in flaming lava. His voice is often orated with rage, as he can almost never control his temper, or flat with laziness -- both feeble efforts to cover the hurt and pain of not being loved as he should. Ah yes, his temper - sharp like a knife, yet sheathed in the most beautiful way that you can never "expect" it to lash out - is the only thing that his father really praised him for. 'Your best weapon,' the dark tom had murmured one night, thinking of their future, but even as he said it, both cats knew that it was his only valuable weapon. Even as young as he was, Obsidianstring never had the same expectations for his average son that he had for their beautiful daughter and when he said those words, making the tiny silver kit cringe in discomfort, Zebrakit had known that there was meaning behind his low murmur - a meaning that was meant to be masked, hidden - but Zebra understood.
It pains him greatly that his father thought so little of him, that he would never be as great. It's a horrible weight, an agony, on his shoulders that constantly weighs him down. He's slowly breaking, his insides crumbling into tiny unbreakable shards, and though he would never admit it, Zebramarcher really needs a friend but he's too broken, too shattered, to be fixed at this point. The hope is long lost because he knows that no being would be moronic enough to see past his shield and find their way to his inner thoughts; also, no one has ever cared enough to save him.
Cats have never cared enough.
• History
I've finally realized what life is all about...
it's about hanging on when your heart has had enough.
It's about giving more when you feel like giving up. [/i] tell me a story, mama...
___ Cats have always marveled on this one certain birth that occurred on EclipseClan territory. Rumors floated about as soon as young Buttonedrose came back to camp with two unmistakably beautiful kits, one dead and the other quite alive, with their father trailing behind with a certainly less eye-catching tom in his jaws. They wondered if the two kits were the product of the grand Obsidianstring and the younger Buttonedrose, and the third kit was simply a mistake - perhaps with a feral cat that had his way with the delicate beauty - but upon a closer inspection, it was none less than obvious that the third kit - who was actually first born - was exactly the opposite what others perceived him to be.
Zebrakit, no matter how average he was compared to his ravishing parents, with his sleek silver coat and smoldering blue gaze was definitely his father's son.
Of course, as everyone knew, this was not the pair's first litter. Oh no, just a few moons after Buttonedrose received her warrior name, she found out that she was carrying the dark tom's kits -- everyone immediately disapproved of their relationship; half of the clan was on her side, thinking that Obsidianstring used the petite she-cat, and the other half was on Obsidianstring's side, immediately assuming that she seduced the unbelievably handsome warrior. However, as the moons after proved, both cats were not using the other and they were, in fact, deeply in love and Chasmfur was living proof of that.
The pure truth - what only Buttonedrose and Obsidianstring knew - was that they had simply gone hunting - the beautiful femme hated being cooped up and her mate felt that it was his duty to escort her - when the kits came. It was simply a miracle that everyone - besides the dead Gladekit, of course - was alive but then again, as everyone knew, the lives of Obsidianstring and Buttonedrose was always - and had always been - simply astounding.
Zebrakit grew up mostly by himself, with the company of his twin sister - their builds were identical, even if the color wasn't - and older brother. His father, aside from their daily training sessions, delved himself into his work and spent much of his free time with their mother or praising Mistykit -- his sister felt bad for this, for being born and making everyone not appreciate her dear brother, so she - whenever she could get out of the way - tried to spend much of her time with him. Zebrakit wanted to yell at her, scream at her and hate her for being so much better at things, but he knew he couldn't; she was more than a best friend to him, she loved him when no one else did. She was his pure, innocent sister who loved her despite everything and like everyone else, he could not resist being pulled by her charm -- he loved her too.
Where as the twins - one of a shocking silver hue and the other of a breath-catching liquid amber-gold - grew up with a relatively normal life, perhaps even more average surroundings, they did have a cousin named Bearnose. Obsidianstring and Riverblaze were closer than any brothers could be, even if they weren't from the same litter.[Riverpaw was an orphan, you see] As Obsidianpaw and Riverkit, the two could rarely be found alone aside from the separate duties - being a rank apart - that often permitted them otherwise. Even as Riverpaw, Zebramarcher's uncle was always a determined, strong-headed cat that was throughly convinced that his life would be grand, filled with billions of fantasies that he was so sure he could fulfill. Obsidianpaw, on the other hand, thought of no such far-fetched fantasies and known of as the most serious of his litter, filled his head with nothing but pure knowledge. In kithood, he already knew that he would succeed and rise above all the rest because of these facts; perhaps that was why he had so much trouble - moons later - when Buttonedrose came into his life, as if she was born to destroy his carefully constructed life.
Buttonedpaw was a perfect little beauty, only at six moons, when Obsidianpaw had begun to notice her rather begrudgingly. Riverpaw and Bluepaw were having little conflicts of their own, with the latter trying to woo her best friend off his feet like she had done with most other toms and him simply being ignorant of her advances, only acting as he always did -- careless, fun, happy. Soon enough, the time came for the three - Obsidianpaw, Riverpaw and Bluepaw - to become true warriors of EclipseClan and it was only then that everything seemed to fall in place.
Obsidianpaw - now Obsidianstring - realized how hard he was falling for the pretty apprentice, despite his own will and when his mentor told him that he was going to be a warrior the next day, a deep unexplainable emotion began to twist itself in the pit of his stomach; what if he didn't see her anymore? Buttonedpaw, no matter how graceful she seemed, was quite a klutz - in her way of course - and constantly stuck herself in situations that Obsidianpaw had to pull her out of -- such as getting stuck in a tree or some ferns, or perhaps catching the unwanted attention of some lust-crazed toms. No one else noticed this side of her - of course - because, it seemed, she only let this part of her be shown when Obsidianpaw was near. Of course.
Riverpaw - now Riverblaze - suddenly began to recognize the power he had over she-cats, how his easy-going nature and irresistible charm pulled cats toward him like a fish caught in a lure, unable to hold back. He had she-cats at the tips of his paws with his cheerful laughter and forgiving smiles, though it certainly helped that lots of cats thought him to be drop-dead gorgeous. Those cats, of course, included a certain best friend who had been in love with the tom for moons from the start of their apprentice days, whether or not he seemed to notice. Perhaps that was why she got so frustrated and angry when an apprentice waltzed up to him and confessed her affections.
' No, he doesn't want to be your mate!, she finally snapped, seething. Bluejay didn't realize that the young apprentice - Rosepaw - had said nothing of the sort, even if somewhere - inside - she had been hoping for it. She had simply been stating her undying love for the tom and his best friend, as it seemed, had enough of her childish nonsense. You couldn't love someone so much if you barely knew them no matter how much you flowered the words and insisted upon it. It just wasn't possible, or - at least - that's what she told herself.
'W-what?' the petite she-cat stuttered, suddenly nervous under the warrior's blazing blue-eyed gaze. She suddenly shivered at the pure rage hiding behind the seemingly nice she-cat and wondered if it was worth it. No!, she reprimanded herself; she would get him to say it - that he loved her of course, because everyone did - if it killed her.
Huh, the tom suddenly muttered as if he was stating a comment rather than a question, his own silver-blue eyes cast off in a far-off look and then he sent a shockingly beautiful smile in the direction of Rosepaw, nearly making her faint right of her paws. He looked at them, smiling, in such a way as if the answer was right in front of them.
They stared.
A deep chuckle rose from the base of his throat before he grinned crookedly and touched the young femme's forehead gently with his muzzle. " I'm flattered, Rosepaw, " he soothed, his voice soft before going to stand next to Bluejay. " Someone's already got my heart, though, I'm afraid, " he sighed, as if this brought him great pain, and hiding a smile, his eyes fluttered closed lazily, stormy-gray pools twinkling playfully behind his shut lids.
'What?!' Two pairs of eyes stared at him, mouths gaping.
' Hum, he mumbled and opened his eyes again, a smile twitching at the edge of his lips. ' Oh, I thought it was obvious, ' he blinked and suddenly realized that it wasn't, cheeks flushed. ' Well, yes, there's this certain she-cat that's captured my heart for many moons now. In fact, she's never failed to steal my breath away, ' he continued, eyes flickering toward Bluejay but she stiffly stood up and jaw clenched, began to stalk away. He stood up with her, touching her shoulder lightly.
She froze.
"You see, Rosepaw, he turned briefly to the appalled apprentice and almost laughed at the expression on her face as he strolled to his friend's side, silver optics glowing. "Bluejay just doesn't know it yet, " he meowed and when he turned to look at her, his golden orbs piercing, he pressed his muzzle against her shoulder. Her eyes widened.
Oh, he had meant her.
[/center] Obsidianpaw - let's go back to the time he was still an apprentice - never knew what love was, never experienced and had no intention to when a dainty, breath-catching she-cat entered his life. She was beautiful beyond compare, so innocent it was down right sweet, and not even knowing it, she held toms by an invisible leash, their thoughts and mind tied tight around her milky paws ever since she looked at them. Her mentor was her mother at first - who else could the leader trust not to get distracted? Even some she-cats seem flustered at her crystal-blue gaze - though innocent it was - and for the first two moons it was fine because Silverstep was alive. Obsidianpaw, always a bonus, didn't notice her either and because of that her life was normal. As handsome and breath-taking as the older apprentice was, with his striking tabby pelt and luminescent silver gaze, she had not - quite simply - been the type of emotional she-cat who would fall for toms at her left and right. Yes, that's right she did not want to be with any heart throb of a tom any more than he wanted to be with a drop-dead gorgeous she-cat -- that is, at first. She felt like crying - something she hadn't done in a long time - but she couldn't; it felt like her paws were frozen, glued to the floor, and even as she trembled uncontrollably - cats flanking her left and right - she knew she had to swallow every tear that threatened to break out. " Mum..?" she finally managed to choke out and quickly, in a few graceful steps, pushed through the crowd to stare at the dead figure.
Her breath caught.
And with a broken cry, Buttonedpaw threw herself at the dead warrior and pressed her muzzle into the familiar, cold fur. Silverstep had always been there for her, so unlike Pyrestone - her CloudClan father - who would rather throw up then set his eyes upon his not-enough daughter; he was too busy gloating over Earthpaw, his perfect son. Unlike the fierce flame-licked tom who easily stared in disdain at his daughter's errors - malfunctions in her system - without an ounce of guilt, her mother was the only cat that - through thick and thin - had unfailingly soothed and praised Buttonedkit. She can't be dead, she can't be, her head continued to chant, but even through her tear-streak gaze she knew that this was it -- that her mother was dead.
Her head snapped up as a warm figure pressed - in what he hoped was a comforting manner - at her side and immediately, like a reflex reaction, Buttonedpaw flinched away from his touch. Something flickered in the tom's eyes again as a scowl replaced his concerned smile. She began to notice him, just now, that he was the jerk that pushed every single cat away [as if he was too good for them, she knew] and she began to gather even more disdain for him than she had to start with -- just because he was a stud, with his dark silver coat and his smoldering silver-blue gaze that made hearts flutter didn't mean he could do everything he wanted.
A laugh sounded from behind them and both cats - at the same exact time - flashed around to glare at the so-called victimizer, Riverpaw. It looked, however, as if they hadn't needed to for another apprentice, a pretty tabby-white femme with sharp green eyes, smacked him and he looked, despite the muscles rippling beneath his broad shoulders, as he was whimpering beneath her very presence. She smiled briefly, cerulean pools twinkling and looking to her left, she caught the dark tabby fighting back a smile of his own, dark silver-blue gaze dancing beneath those stormy depths, as he let out a low - almost inaudible - chuckle. Surprise rippled through her -- she had, as with everyone else, never seen him smile let alone chuckle. Blinking, it was then she realized that he had distracted her and frowned angrily, tail sweeping across his muzzle quickly as she turned around. Inside, though, she was hiding a thankful smile and paws light, her heart still fluttering uncomfortably, as she felt his smoldering silver-blue gaze burn into her fur, she turned back to her mother to give her the proper burial.
Obsidianpaw, on the other hand, was dazed; what did he do to her? [/center] Obsidianpaw had known, even at that early age, that would have to get a mate sooner or later but he had always imagined his future with an average mate with average looks and bearing him average children. He had not dreamed of this often, of course, since that would be silly of a tom to do so but he had once - when Riverpaw had confessed quite deeply that he thought [rather hoped] Bluepaw would be by his side forever and ever; it moved young Obsidianpaw - who rather confused and bewildered how his care-free, go-with-the-flow friend could have decided a future before he - being so knowledgeable and having a 'set' lifestyle - had even pondered about it. So he began wondering what to do -- for about a full moon. His best friend, on the other hand, thought this was plain silly. Yes, he had confessed his concerns to the white-splashed tom who brushed it off casually and led Obsidianpaw to do the same. He hadn't thought about it for moons until after his warriorship when Buttonedpaw came into his life, signed as Bluejay's new apprentice when her previous mentor - her mother - passed away. Silverstep had been her only real family link - they all knew about the dead queen's affair with that flame-pelted CloudClan tom named Pyrestone - besides Earthpaw, who, like their father decided to ignore his sister. Sure, they spoke from time to time behind the scenes, but for most of the day, the two cats seldom spoke. The silver tabby, the very image of his mother with the exception of his father's chocolate brown eyes, did not like his mother - ironically - any more than he liked the other queens in the nursery. Silverstep hadn't produced enough milk for two kits, so she gave him to her good friend, Creamwhisker. Despite the fact that Silverstep often washed him and bathed him on the occasions when his foster mother was unavailable and she, herself, was not sick - Silverstep, only in her thirties, had an illness from birth that caused her - constantly - to be weak [something called 'cancer', as two-legs named it] - Earthpaw came to detest his mother and his sister, who she was always around. As far as he was concerned, he had no mother. He didn't even come to her funeral, that's how angry he was. After her funeral, it suddenly appealed to young Obsidianpaw that not only had Riverpaw and Bluepaw been watching, but the entire clan - besides the few who were not permitted to come, who did not want to come and were not able to come - was watching. It made him flush with embarrassment and guilt - knowing that he had shamed pretty little Buttonedpaw too. Honestly, the dark tabby was not a bad cat; however, whenever he would try to talk to the ginger she-cat, in a manner that he was sure was sophisticated and calm, she would ignore him, thoroughly convinced that he was nothing but a dirt-bag of a tom. Then some silly rumors began floating around the clan that they were together - ha! Well you could have fooled him! Obsidianstring had finally had it with the pretty she-cat that everyone just seemed so taken by and frankly, to him she was just crowfood. She had no respect for elders! Buttonedpaw wasn't any better, preferring to delve in helping the elders, cleaning their moss and ridding their old, raggedy pelts of ticks, than going hunting with her mentor, who would surely bring her best friends along. Riverblaze was cool and funny too, but sometimes he was just so childish that she couldn't take it. As for her other friend, Obsidianstring? Bah! He was worse than any tom on the face of the planet -- that no-good piece of foxdung just thought he was the best on the planet! He was just an arrogant jerk with nothing to gloat about! Actually, now that she thought about it... Well, now that he thought about it... He wasn't really that bad; at least he knew chivalry. She wasn't really that bad if cats from all over were drooling all over themselves to catch a fleeting glance... But he still was a horribly, stupid-headed, piece of - But she was still a horribly, ungrateful little - Good-looking, though. Indeed, quite pretty. They still despised each other, though. Despite the fact that the constantly showed the outside nothing but calm, cool politeness toward each other, behind the scenes - as Bluejay and Riverblaze knew quite well - their was something worse than flaring hatred spurring between them. They had mouths worse that the two-leg's equivalent of sailor's mouths, it turned out and constantly bad-mouthed each other. [ ' Buttonedpaw! You know nothing about - '[/color] // ' Oh go jump in a lake, idiot! [/color]] Not to mention, of course, they also had an intense rivalry going on, even if she was apprentice and should have honestly listened and that he was a warrior and should know better to be irked by her meaningless words. Obsidianstring was wonderful at fighting of course, but it was clearer than anything that even at her young age, Buttonedpaw could catch anything - quite literally - and would easily beat a senior warrior in a hunting contest -- or at least, she constantly obliterated the usually calm warrior whenever challenged. ' But they love each other, ' Riverblaze had murmured softly while sharing tongues with his mate. She looked up, slightly dazed from his rhythmic strokes, before registering his words and raising a delicate eyebrow in his direction. ' Honey, you're an idiot, [/color] she meowed bluntly before dismissing his words as nothing and pressed her muzzle against his flank, start to wash him. ' ... maybe, but you love me, '[/color] he commented after a while, eyes shining as if his reply was some sort of smart-aleck comment that would knock her off her feet. She rolled her eyes - unnoticed by him - and sighed before agreeing softly. He beamed. He was right then, though. They did love each other; they were just too stubborn to notice. The story of the day the two cats' began feeling something more than resent -ment and crossed the line between hatred and love was anything but usual because as everyone knew, all throughout his warriorhood and her apprenticeship, Buttonedpaw and Obsidianstring were constant rivals, not to mention enemies -- each had to be better than the other, each new exactly what irked them and used it to their advantage, their determination in the competition ensured that the ginger tabby progressed so well that Bluejay didn't really have to do anything. In all truth, it was almost as if Obsidianstring was her mentor instead because the pretty queen-to-be was spending most of her time with her mate and best friend, him always joking that Obsidianstring was kidding himself with the tiny little thing -- that he really did love her, but wouldn't admit it. It wasn't as if Bluejay was a bad mentor, but Buttonedpaw just didn't want to be with her. ['Buttonedpaw, time for tra-[/color]// 'shh, shh. I have to solve this. That son of a ba-'[/color]] And still the two remained spiteful of each other - nothing had changed between them, or so they told themselves and their friends. It continued well into Buttonedpaw's warriorship where she was renamed Buttonedrose of EclipseClan, perhaps the most beautiful cat to walk the forest -- or at least that's what the leader must have been thinking when giving her such a floral name. It suited her, though, as Obsidianstring would mutter when Riverblaze playfully teased his friend asked what he thought of Jaybird's former-apprentice's [he said, ol' Obsidianstring's lover, though] name. He shouted her name first, a hidden sensation prickling his paws, before the rest of the drooling toms of the clan joined in and then he vanished much to early for the beautiful Buttonedrose, her cheeks flushed with happiness, to notice what he had done. For the short time he was there, though, this much was clear -- he was prouder, his blue pools glowing as his heart burst with something like near-pride, than his father could have ever been. So he left her, that old chivalrous side of him returning, convinced that he would not ruin her special day because he couldn't hold back an angry jibe. She was special and like his inexplicable hate for her, nothing would change that. But something did change, the very day after when Buttonedrose saved Obsidianstring's life. In fact, it was while leaning out over the lake of EclipseClan that Obsidianstring did something that would inevitably change both of their lives forever: he fell in. Oh yes, he was a fantastic swimmer since birth and should have been able to swim to safety, but - stubborn as ever - he still wanted that fish and nearly drowned in the process. Buttonedrose, happening to be nearby, and hearing the distressed tom’s cries from the river, rushed to the aid of the cat. Unknown to her, this was her enemy, as she managed to drag the floundering tom from the water. Of course, very quickly, she discovered this, much adding to the awkward moment that followed. Suffice it to say, things became very different between the two that day; the barbs they flung at each other daily didn't change in their venomous structure, but there was something - if cats looked closer enough and Riverblaze had - in their eyes, perhaps a twinkle, that signaled something different. When Obsidianstring would go and hunt with a female warrior - though Bluejay seemed to be exempt from this - young Buttonedrose would tag along. The older warrior would narrow his eyes, bewildered and frustrated at the constant intrusion, but whoever his companion was at the time would see nothing of it and only become a little bit depressed because she couldn't go hunting alone with the most handsome tom in the clan. She would usually become dazzled by the younger warrior's beauty, speechless as the young she-cat smiled warmly and batted her eyelashes innocently at her former-enemy, before agreeing whole heartedly. The tom could only hold back a groan; his evening was ruined. It was only as well, though. Buttonedrose was constantly invited to go hunting with the various toms of EclipseClan - any of those drooling toms would gladly invite her, but out of everyone her friends seemed to have this silly notion that she liked a certain tom named Ashdust - a decent tom with, well, an ashen pelt and liquid silver eyes - because she spent so much time with him. The warrior - only a few moons older than her - was interested in her too, blushing whenever she smiled at him and becoming suddenly shy, shuffling his dusty paws, whenever she asked him what was wrong. Obsidianstring caught air of this and - for some odd reason - did not seem happy with this arrangement - that they constantly would plan to out together alone - and so, perhaps for revenge, he would do the same thing to the poor 'couple'. Buttonedrose or Ashdust could not argue with him and risk their faces, since he was a older warrior and all, they were required to listen to him in public. So furious was she with him, and his pent up frustration wasn't a walk in the park either, that the slender warrior finally confronted him about it. ' What the heck is wrong with you?!' she asked him in a furious whisper one day, waiting for the respective dates to come back to their meeting point. Ashdust, the tom she supposedly fancied, had went to fetch his bundle of prey not far from the CloudClan border. As for Lightbubble - a fairly cheerful she-cat with a pale pelt and amber eyes that was only a few moons older than Buttonedrose - she had just caught a sparrow along a stream and was due back any moment.
' What are you talking about, Buttonedrose?', he smirked. The handsome tabby glided toward the nervous she-cat in a few graceful steps and smiled brilliantly at her, in such a way that it would've made any other she-cat faint. Instead, the said warrior scowled and smacked him on the side of his head. 'You know what I'm talking about. Explain!'
She flushed - though whether it was from anger or the sheer embarrassment of confronting this matter, he didn't know. A touch of pink adorning his blushing cheeks, the tom lowered his head and pursed his lips, unsure what to say, what would be safe to say. Around her, he felt that he didn't have to hide, that he wouldn't have to lie about how he actually felt -- more like she didn't care, but the way she said this... he had a feeling she did care more than she let out.
As for him, he adored her a whole lot more than he showed -- but that wasn't his fault [or so he told himself] because she used to be - and in his eyes, still was - an apprentice. How could he have fallen in love with an apprentice of all things? It would have been worse to fall in love with the leader's mate or something unreachable as that, when he knew they could never return his affections, but this was insanity ! She didn't act like she cared a mouse's tail for him or his feelings, but he knew - as he learned over the moons - that she was much more than she let on and the saying, 'don't judge a book by it's cover' was suddenly painfully true for her. Like the rose she was named after, she had many layers - or petals - that he constantly wanted to strip away, to find the real her. And there was no doubt in his mind that he would love that part of her too just as he loved every other piece - whether it be the beautiful part of her or the sweet side - of young Buttonedrose.
As his deep silver-blue gaze stared at her, serious for once - they rarely were, letting his real, childish - he felt - nature show whenever she was around despite the fact that he preferred to be locked up and quite stoic around his clan members - the young femme shivered under the intensity of it. Unknown to the older warrior, she loved him too. It was just so wrong though and plus, why would a smart warrior like him want to hang around with a little, young pretty thing like her? Except for amusement purposes, of course, which was obviously the only reason he even bothered with her.
He had never really hated her, it was just that surprise, then frustration and finally bewilderment that a cat was not giving him the respect that he always demanded from the others around him. She was not like the other - oogling him like he was some sort of prize - but she treated him for who he was; he really was an arrogant b-strd who didn't really know his place in the world until he met her. He had felt - and still did - when he looked at her as if he was a blind cat just seeing the sun for the very first time.
She had just had the wrong impression of him, really. Buttonedrose soon fell for him when he - on occasion - showed her his sweet side. How he would help any misunderstood apprentice scrabbles, tossing aside whatever he was going to do, or how he would play with the kits just to satiate their never ending curiosity; how he would tell them stories just to see them smile - gracing them with a breathless smile of his own. She fell in love with him for he was inside, not how he appeared to everyone else.
' ... Buttonedrose, the truth is that I- I - ' he began, his voice softer than a murmur as he leaned closer to her and she trembled again when he looked at her with that impossible, though intense gaze of his. She was barely thirteen moons, she couldn't handle this stress! But the closer he leaned, the more she found him craving his answer. The truth was what?! She stared at him, her dazzling blue eyes penetrating, as he struggled for an answer and with a deep breath, he began to speak again, his breath suddenly cool against her face.
' OBBIEEE!' the pair jumped apart as the said femme - Lightbubble - came bouncing toward him, flung her prey to the side and pranced over on dainty paws, giving him a dazzling smile. As she draped over him, Buttonedrose nearly flinched and the abruptly turned away, quite sure that she was over with him - if he had to have that b-tch slung over him like freshkill, then he didn't want, need her. Cerulean gaze flickered over to the tom, but he was still talking to that Lightwhatshername and she scowled, before sighing softly in part-dismay, part-something else.
' Hey, Buttonedrose, ' the young tom came loping over to her with a wonderful smile that would've made her heart break if it wasn't already broken and she turned away from the couple to flash him a smile of her own, to which he promptly blushed. Holding back a groan of frustration, the young femme danced over to the ashen tom and helped him carry his prey, her muzzle faintly brushing his own - though not really meaning to. At that instant, Obsidianstring had meant to send a pleading look over his 'date's' shoulder to Buttonedrose, but she was obviously preoccupied.
His heart broke.
Maybe they were right, you weren't allowed to love someone like her; cats like her were just unattainable. Things happened very fast, but then again her life had always been quick-paced like that. It was the very morning when she couldn't remember a single thing that had occurred the night before, other than a pounding headache and an aching jaw. Her stomach seemed to be unsettling, the very sight of food sending her vomiting into the nearest bush, but later that evening Buttonedrose found her rather ravenous despite the fact that she was rarely so. She dismissed this as normal, though, since she had skipped breakfast and lunch. Still, she felt weird. Ashdust offered to go hunting with her, but she refused him politely. With a soft murmur of concern, he left her and she almost regretted the decision when watching the look of utter dismay play across his face, wanting to comply, but then told herself that her health was more important. Then, the newly-named warrior walked slowly to the medicine cat's den, wincing every now and then when her insides gave another lurch of pain. It really hurt. THiRTY-SOMETHiNG MOONS LATER;; Zebrakit grew up, admiring his older brother. He knew he had been conceived only a few moons after Chasmkit [fur] had been born. But yet, he couldn't help but be somewhat jealous [or whatever the emotion to explain his feelings was called ] of his beautiful older sibling. Zebramarcher grew quickly, his hot temper getting him in a variety of trouble. His first apprentice, which he was honored a moon after he had become a warrior [they had been running short and apprentices seemed to be flooding the clan]. Her name was Cricketpaw and Zebramarcher had grown a special bond to the young she-cat like he had done to no other cat. He had only had the little girl for a moon before he lost her. Little Cricketpaw had caught greencough and her respiratory system wasn't strong enough to fight off the virus. Grief. Funeral. Crying. The usual thing cats go through. Then he was assigned another shortly after. Flamingopaw. This time Zebramarcher had tried his best not to become close with this one. He wouldn't have been able to stand another loss if he were to lose Flamingopaw. The young warrior had become twenty moons when they lost Amethyststar, then Phantomlight. WIth Fernpelt stressed, with having kits and taking over leadership and such, everyone in the clan had already spread rumors about who was going to be the next deputy. And then, life took it's course and I'm sure you can guess the rest.[/color] __ F A M i L Y | C O N N E C T i O N S [/color][/left] ⋅OBSiDiANSTRiNG⋅ -› f a t h e r - [male] --› ALiVE, 57 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN WARRiOR _AUDiTiON ⋅BUTTONEDROSE⋅ -› m o t h e r - [female] --› ALiVE, 53 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN WARRiOR _ AUDiTiON ⋅CHASMFUR [/color] ⋅ -› o l d e r - b r o t h e r - [male] --› ALiVE, 34 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN WARRiOR_ AUDiTiON[/sup] ⋅MiSTYVEiL[/color] ⋅ -› t w i n - s i s t e r, - [female] --› ALiVE, 21 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN WARRiOR _ AUDiTiON[/sup] ⋅RiVERBLAZE[/color] ⋅ -› u n c l e - [male] --› RiVERBLAZE, 61 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN WARRiOR _ AUDiTiON[/sup] ⋅BLUEJAY[/color] ⋅ -› a u n t - [female] --› LEFT, 56 moons xx EC WARRiOR GONE LONER _ AUDiTiON[/sup] ⋅FOXGLOVE[/color] ⋅ -› o l d e r - c o u s i n - [male] --› deceased[/s], 29 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN WARRiOR _ DeaD[/sup] ⋅RiDGEPAW[/color] ⋅ -› c o u s i n, - [male] --› UNKNOWN, 17 moons xx FORMER EC APPRENTiCE _ AUDiTiON[/sup] ⋅CRiCKETPAW[/color] ⋅ -› f o r m e r s t u d e n t, - [female] --› deceased[/i], 7 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN APPRENTiCE _ dIED[/sup] ⋅FLAMiNGOPAW[/color] ⋅ -› s t u d e n t, - [female] --› ALiVE, 8 moons xx ECLiPSECLAN APPRENTiCE _ AUDiTiON[/sup][/center][/blockquote][/size] painting portraits of ghosts [/u][/center][/sub] |
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Post by kee :] on Sept 23, 2008 15:42:17 GMT -5
Garnetcloak images
a deep-red color
tom
43 moons
eclipse
deputy
painting portraits of ghosts
We will not die this way, in unification.
They cannot break these chains of faith.
Let them do their worst (let them do their worst).
Never slaves to iniquity.
Alright, kits, give me some words that describe Garnetcloak. Just a few! One at a time please. I can't hear you if everyone shouts them out loud.
Enormous, like a lion! Oh yes, many cats refer to Garnetcloak as an enormous lion. This tom, if you stretched him out, would be about a badgerlength long. I'm not kidding. This guy is massive. His head is quite angular, ending in a kingly neck that attaches his crown to the rest of his majestic body. Like a lion, Garnetcloak is extremely furry around the neck area, giving him a cream and orange mane. Sure, he's a long-haired cat but it's even more so there. He's also shaggy around the belly region too, for extra protection. His muscles are hardened after years of wear and training. That doesn't mean that he'll get cramps while he's running. It means that it'll be hard to try and break a smile into his face. He's tall and he's large, making his presence quite overwhelming. His paws are massive, and they usually make the ground tremble when he runs past.
Sooo handsome! The scars that mesh into the frame of this male compliment him well. For the she-cats who love the hard-core warrior type, Garnetcloak is the guy for you. However, he's handsome in that rough, rugged way, kind of like a diamond thrown in a coal mine. His expression is always calm and composed...at least he tries to keep it that way even when he's angry or saddened. He doesn't slouch; his posture, like his mannerisms, are as stiff as a board. I suppose his quirks are liked by different cats. Everyone has their own opinion.
Orange...and also white! Haha! Yes, I suppose we could throw that in. That would be quite important if you're describing this fellow. Garnetcloak is, for lack of a better phrase, cloaked in garnet. Well, perhaps not exactly garnet, as that's a deep-red color. Perhaps ochre or light-auburn would be a more suitable word. Yes, we'll go with ochre. Garnetcloak is a cat of many layers. Layers upon layers upon layers of hair, and with that, colors. Each layer of hair brings about a new hue. Upon his brow is the marking of a tabby, set below his large ears and above his eyes. By the way, did I mention his eyes? No? Oh dear me, how could I forget that! Garnetcloak's eyes are two different colors. The one on the right is a dark-brown eye while the one on the left is a orangey-tawny color, much lighter than its counterpart.
We will not die this way (this is absolution).
Death claims us no more (no more).
Do not grieve; end the suffering.
We will live, live eternal.
Will you take the stand among the dead?
Bury your fear, and hold fast to life.
When Garnetcloak was young, he used to be very family-oriented. However, now he only remains close to his twin Ternhunter. While they are twins, Garnetcloak has become so very different from his brother in the moons he's lived. Though he never liked Auburnpaw, he regretted wishing that his brother would die. Perhaps it was because the wish killed Hollypaw too. That must be it. Garnetcloak hates hurting the innocent and takes great lengths to avoid such issues. He would never give orders to hurt or kill unless he believes they truly deserve such a fate. However, as much as he doesn't like harming the innocent, he understands that in war, things happen. He doesn't beat himself over things he can't control. If he messes up on things he could've controlled, he vows to make it better in the future. He isn't one to dwell on stuff.
As a child, Garnetcloak was easily frightened and intimidated, yet easily consoled when he ran to his mentor, Copperfur, who he respected and trusted very much. As time passed, Copperfur taught him not to be scared into a state of panic but to control his fear. The estrangement of his family also taught him self-control, and it also hardened his heart a bit.
If he could give you one of his favorite features, it would probably be his determination. Garnetcloak will drill and drill and pound and pound something into your head until he's satisfied that you have it down. He's best described as a military instructor, and if you've got a bad cat that you need to beat the insolence out of, send them to this guy. He'll make sure they're the most discliplined, most well-behaved character you've ever seen. He's strict and a bit harsh on everyone, having high expectations for everyone and getting annoyed when they aren't met.
When it comes to loyalty, Garnetcloak's got it down to a point, almost to the point of zealotry. He follows the Warrior Code like a hound on a foxtrail, alienating those who have broken it and considering them not good enough to be a warrior. However, he still maintains respect for Fernstar because she did not sacrifice her position to nurse the kits; she gave them up to other queens. You should never doubt Garnetcloak's loyalty to the Code and to StarClan. He'd kill you for even thinking such a thing.
We will not die this way (this is absolution).
Death claims us no more (no more).
Do not grieve; end the suffering.
We will live, live eternal.
Anchor yourself to the foundation of everything you love.
Believe you have just become to live.
If you want to talk about drama, this cat might have you beat on a few areas. Garnetcloak is the son of Goldenscale and Northerngale. The two met in their youth, as apprentices, and become mates several moons after their warriorhood. Northerngale was a charming she-cat who loved nature, music, and the gentle touch of her mate in the morning before they went off to patrol together. However, one early morning before the sun had risen properly, the pregnant she-cat and her mate went out as usual. This time, they came across a two rogues. Goldenscale killed the first but by time he went to fight the second, the knave had slain his beloved Northerngale. The platinum-blonde tom was furious, his rage almost consuming him as he finished off the second rogue.
He pleaded for StarClan to spare Northerngale and their kits. His words moved the hearts of the warriors in StarClan, and after a recess, a she-cat named Seedshadow came forward. "For her life and the lives of the five kits in her womb, we wish for six lives in exchange."
Goldenscale was appalled at the demand of StarClan and refused to name six cats that would die in exchange for his beloved family to live. So Seedshadow decided to take matters into her own hands. She told the tom that StarClan would decide who they would take, and then they threw Goldenscale back to earth. Northerngale stirred from death beside him, and although he was still concerned over what the warriors of StarClan had said, he found himself forgetting all that in light of his mate being alive.
Northerngale had a litter in the middle of a stormy night, a set of four boys and one girl. Garnetkit and Ternkit were twin ginger and white boys, similar in pelt to their father. Auburnkit was a tom that looked like his father but with a little bit more orange like Beestripe, his paternal grandmother. Lavakit, though not the oldest, was the largest of the group and a ginger and black tom like a tiger. Desertkit was the girl of the team, being a lovely calico with her mother's pretty eyes. Goldenscale was overjoyed at the word of the healthy births, and it was at this point that he ignored StarClan's warning about taking six lives.
Garnetkit and Ternkit were never apart, sleeping together, eating side by side, and always playing on the same team. They shared the same ideas and same goals, and there were always moments where one of the boys would say something and the other would go "That's just what I was thinking!" Auburnkit, on the other hand, was a naughty troublemaker, making himself look good by getting the not-as-brainy Lavakit to do bad things and then tattling on him. Desertkit would prefer to have nothing to do with her family, preferring to stay with the other queens and their kits. It was common to see Desertkit surrounded by groups of she-kits that kissed the ground she walked on and mimicked her every move, usually heckling at her brothers or curling her lip at them.
Garnetkit was a confident, happy child, always playing with Ternkit. Everyone pushed each other out of the way for a shot at having one of them as their future apprentice. When that day came, Garnetpaw was given to his favorite uncle to be apprenticed, Rapidwind. He loved his mentor very much and vowed to train as hard as he could for them. However, he didn't know the other side of Rapidwind. One day, the young tom was told by another warrior that his mentor was over by the Hollow Oak with Goldenscale on a hunting trip. Garnetpaw eagerly ran down to find Rapidwind only to come on a terrible sight. His father was strangling his only brother to death! An odd yellow gleam glittered hauntingly in Goldenscale's eye. Garnetpaw screamed, and the pupilless tom looked up, moving in almost a drunken fashion after his son. Luckily, the tom escaped being killed but his father clawed him over the ear. Garnetpaw ran home to Ternpaw, yowling and crying about what had happened. However, when Goldenscale came back, he asked in a perfectly calm voice how his son was doing. He seemed to have no recollection of what had happened. EclipseClan couldn't find Rapidwind's body though, but with the evidence against the pale-blonde tom, Goldenscale was cast out from camp. Northerngale was crushed, and from then on, she held a grudge against Garnetpaw because she believed it was his fault that Goldenscale was exiled.
Garnetpaw was given a new mentor, a soft-spoken she-cat by the name of Copperfur. It was with her that he got over his timid nature and he eventually met a she-cat named Hollypaw. She had one blue eye and one brown eye, and her dark-brown pelt was wiry and bristly like a holly leaf. However, Garnetpaw fell in love with her but when he confessed, she told him that she was in love with Auburnpaw, his brother. Garnetpaw suddenly seemed to break and he wished that Auburnpaw would just go off and die because he never deserved a she-cat's love. A storm suddenly touched down, and a bolt of lightning struck a tree and made it burst into flames. The blaze crashed to the ground, crushing both Auburnpaw and Hollypaw. Garnetpaw couldn't believe what had just happened. He couldn't tell his mother; she wouldn't have anything to do with him, especially when she found out Auburnpaw was dead. He ran to Copperfur, who assured him that it was just a freak accident and that there was no way Garnetpaw could have caused that storm.
Garnetpaw became Garnetcloak in his twelfth moon. Around this time, he met another she-cat, named Narcissusfrost. She was five moons older than he and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His angst of Hollypaw aside now, he fell for the pretty white she-cat. They were the talk of the Clan for many moons, and no one saw it as a surprise when Narcissusfrost became pregnant when Garnetcloak was twenty-four moons. Like his mother, his mate bore him a litter of mostly toms. Oysterkit, Pinkit, and Sorrelkit were the toms while Sootykit was the girl. She resembled her mother except that her paws and muzzle were black. Oysterkit and Pinkit were pure white while Sorrelkit had a bit of his father's lineage in him and was light ginger and white. However, Pinkit wasn't in the best of health, and the young tomkit suffered from kittencough that resulted in his death. This was another blow to Garnetcloak. He seemed to harden up a bit after that, focusing only on training his remaining kits even though they weren't apprentice age yet.
When he was thirty-moons, he was given his son, Oysterkit, as his apprentice. Oysterpaw knew how his father was, and the same went for Garnetcloak. They had to have been the hardest working team in the Clan. Oysterpaw trained for eighteen hours of the day, running, fighting, agility, hunting, patrolling, memorizing faces and features. Garnetcloak drilled his son as if he was training a battalion of infantry in the military. The three kits were taught never ever to break the Warrior Code, because that was the code Garnetcloak followed to a point. He showed only pride when Oysterpaw was named Oystercatcher. He wasn't as proud of Sootytalon and Sorrelsight because they weren't discliplined as well as their older brother. In fact, Sootytalon frequently talked back to her father and Sorrelsight always acted like he knew more than his father. Garnetcloak's heart seemed to harden even more as such disrespect. Narcissusfrost did nothing to stop her children's actions.
As such, he and his shadow Oystercatcher seemed to withdraw from the family. Though no longer apprentice and mentor, the two constantly sparred against each other. It was a common sight to see the two toms tussling anywhere they could. Their distance from the family brought Narcissusfrost to divorce Garnetcloak when he was forty moons and estrange the young Oystercatcher. However, it didn't matter to him. He felt as if he had fallen out of love with Narcissusfrost anyway.
It was a sunny day near the Lake when Garnetcloak received the word that Phantomlight was found dead and that Fernpelt was calling a meeting about it. He and Oystercatcher quickly ending their sparring and made their way home. They were not chosen to go the Gathering but when EclipseClan came home, Fernpelt called another meeting. She told the rest of the Clan the news about what had happened to the other Clans, and then she named Garnetcloak as her next deputy.
Don't let the world deceive you
Don't let their words betray you.
An RP taken from my beloved Lastfalling's last night. May he rest in peace.
[[ There was something that was calling to him that night as the tired Deputy lie restless in the warrior's den. Everyone was asleep now and even the kits had stopped whining and squeeling. Everything was silent. Most nights, when he could sleep, Lastfalling usually took long walks out to the shrine, where he would sleep. The shrine always seemed to calm him down with all its familiar smells. But it wasn't only that he was restless and awake that told him to get up and move around, but that someone was calling his name in his brain. Saying it over and over again.
Lastfalling... Lastfalling I need you... At first it sounded like his mother, then his father, then even Cinnarbarcloud. Everyone that had been or is close to him was calling his name in the wind. But Astralhaze's voice stuck out most. It wasn't a whisper, but more like a scream in the distance. Thats when Lastfalling couldn't take it anymore. Something wrong was going on at the shrine. The spirits were calling his name. Panicking, he jerked awake but as quietly as possible, shot out of the warriors den and out of camp.
To his dismay, his shrine had to be built at the edge of camp, near the CloudClan border, where no one would find it. So the journey was a tiring long one. But his long legs didn't stop. He had to get there before the spirits stopped talking to him. Because once they stopped calling for him, he was too late. Now, they were louder than ever. Somehow, weirdly enough, even though he was positive his mother was still alive, because he could feel it, her voice was one of the loudest as well. Why was she calling his name when he was sure she wasn't dead?
He was panicking even more, his breath coming out in short gasps and he could even feel tears rolling down his cheeks. He could smell the shrine, the CloudClan border, and Astralhaze now. Astralhaze. She had been coming to visit him about twice or so a moon and the spirits would wake him when she got there and he would come. But they never yelled for him and said that he was needed. They just said come, or here, or something short and nice like that. But this was serious. Astralhaze was in trouble.
"Astralhaze? Astralhaze!" Lastfalling yowled, bursting through the shrine entrance. It looked the same as usual, small and sweet smelling and cozy. This was the place where he dreamed of Astralhaze having his kits. He trotted quickly over to where she lay and sat down beside her, licking her ears and face. "I'm here. I'm here..." he whispered, nuzzling her cheek.
Don't let their lies deceive you
Lead them to their graves.Northerngale my esteemed mother Goldenscale my exiled father, deceased Rapidwind my illustrious uncle and mentor, deceased Copperfur my delightful second mentor Hollypaw my stolen love, deceased Auburnpaw my devilspawn of a brother, deceased Lavastreak my gentle brother who isn't the brightest leaf on the tree Ternhunter my beloved twin brother who is my second self Desertwind my harlot of a sister Narcissusfrost my ex-wife, deceased Pinkit my son who never turned old, deceased Sorrelsight my other son, who I could live without Oystercatcher my shadow, my oldest son Sootytalon my wench of a daughter We will not die this way (this is absolution).
Death claims us no more (no more).
Do not grieve; end the suffering.
We will live, live eternal.[/size] |
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