The Fallen Tree's

[striped]

Nightpelt sighed and allowed her paws to carry her away from her camp. Her bright green eyes were calm and collected, and she looked down at her paws making light prints in the melting snow beneath her. She sighed happily and continued on. Although leafbare was so beautiful, she just wished it to be over. The cold just wasn't what she liked. She was more of a greenleaf cat. Although, she did love each of the four seasons. She just preferred warmth over cold. What cat didn't?

She heard the conversations of cats in her ears, and her whiskers twitched in amusement. Plenty of cats were out today. Why they were being so loud, that she did not know. Either that, or today she could hear relatively well. Her green eyes glittered happily as she settles herself in a wet but not-snowed-on area. Paws began to work the ground underneath her, creating indentations into the ground beneath her.

--X--

Smallfoot sighed with frustration. She supposed she would have to talk to one group. She gathered herself and placed one paw forward. Crowclaw and Mothtail. Lovely. This wouldn't be very fun, now would it? The she-cat sneered to herself, and continued on, stopping politely at the twos side. Silverheart was there as well. Smallfoot didn't mind Silverheart.

She would just wait. Maybe they wouldn't talk to her?

[May]

A flash of dull orange in the bushes, followed by several glimmers of white. A larger, stockier figure trailed behind, the same ginger color, but with a slightly more golden tinge. With a crackle of twigs, Hawkclaw poked her head out of the thorns and brambles, her signature leaf pouch clutched tightly in her mouth. It had been recently filled with precious ripe brown acorns, purloined from a squirrel's forgotten store. She had felt a bit bad about that, but compromised by only taking as much as her small pouch would fill. Her larger twin, Lionstorm, came up next to her, bristling slightly, just daring anyone to try and mess with her sister. Hawkclaw sighed. Touching her tail lightly to Lionstorm's shoulder, she whispered, "It's alright. You know I can take care of myself." Her sister deflated slightly, but stayed where she was. "You know it's not right, they way they treat you like a freak. I just want to be there incase you get in any trouble."

[striped]

Nightpelt sighed, and heard vices quite close to where she was sitting. She got to her paws, and poked her head out fro where she was resting. "Hello?" she called out softly. She was cautious, but more on the curious side. Today was a day where she was happy, and she didn't think a few cats would ruin that. But then again, her unsuspecting temper could change that all in a matter of seconds, no?

Shoulders and paws pushed their way through the branches, and she came upon Hawkclaw. "Hello," she meowed quietly, dipping her head, a smile plastered alongside her face. "What are you doing out here?" she asked curiously, nodding hello to Lionstorm, her green eyes sparkling.

[May]

Hawkclaw was taken aback by the sudden appearance of Nightpelt. "Oh! Hello! I was just making my way back to camp and decided to permit a small detour." She waved her tail around the clearing. "Just checking up on the progress of the wild strawberries." Lionstorm then emerged fully from the tangle, stepping protectively in front of Hawkclaw. "So, what are you doing here?"

[Rolo]

Mar 13, 2009 20:39:50 GMT -5 Whiskers said:

Finchpaw padded closer to her, sitting down but a fox length away from her. He was somewhat disappointed and very surprised that she was not going to continue to play. It was strange how she had gone from a harsh, proud she-cat to a more... tired one.

If anything, she was apathetic and that was all. She wanted him to leave; he could feel that much. And he wasn't doing that. Well he had a right to this place as any, yes?

"You're out here for the same reason I am, I bet," Finchpaw commented, deciding just to go out on a limb. There was nothing for him to lose.

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Frostpaw sighed, wondering whether this apprentice was a glutton for punishment. Hadn't his father warned him that she was a sinner and a trouble-maker?

"I doubt it." Said Frostpaw soberly before giggling and looking straight into his eyes, her face crinkled with humor, "I doubt you came out here to escape your father. Or to escape the constant scrutiny my life holds."

She looked down at her paws, her smile gone, "It's so easy to live the life of a follower. Not just a Starclan follower but one who follows everyone one else and acts like everyone else, following the rules. It's so easy not to question, not to make your own opinions." She sighed, "But to live the life of one who makes their own way, without following everyone else because it's easy, is difficult. I could give up what I do and stop being insulted, accepting meddling medicine cats and Starclan, but then what would I be? I'd just be a follower and I'd be fighting my nature."

Frostpaw paused, wondering why she was saying all this all of a sudden. She growled at herself for sounding so weak.

"Anyway," She growled after a few moments, "Following is dull. And I hate medicine cats and conceited cats."

((Lawls... I had no idea that she was gonna be in this mood today . I think it's because she came out here to relax in a peaceful mood, wanting to escape, so when he spoke nicely she was in no mood to argue))

[Whiskers]

Interesting.

Finchpaw stayed quiet for a while-- he was thinking over what she said, giving it the proper weight and time. She was quite a smart cat; it was sad how she saw no other path for herself then a path of solitude. He believed she could still be a fighter... but there was a way, he was sure, that she could be more tactful. But that wasn't Frostpaw. She was direct.

He admired that about her. He was a coward. Doing what his father said so he wasn't hated Even Firepaw would hate him. His own brother! Finchpaw tried quite hard to ignore what they thought, but always, he envisioned their horrified faces when they heard he doubted Starclan and didn't think he was the 'chosen' one. He loved his brother and even his father... but if he had half of Frostpaw's courage, he would be much better for it.

He sighed heavily, feeling the weight of his own cowardice on his shoulders and his heart. It was too bad Frostpaw hated medicine cats--Finchpaw could have been...

He didn't even think the word as it was too ridiculous, judging on Frostpaw's personality and stubborness. Finchpaw didn't like to waste time on pointless thoughts.

"So you hate me though you barely know me? I'm sure you think I'm just like my father-- that I worship the stars and pray before I eat my prey," he snorted, quite irritated. "Just because I am his kin does not mean I have inherited his ridiculous habits or his beliefs. I form my own... though unlike you, I don't have the guts to speak them aloud, nor do I have the tongue to do it so rudely." He meowed, his fur lying flat once again. "Which I admire you for. Better to be your own cat, right? It's a shame I can't follow my own preachings. Nevermind." He dismissed himself.

"And I am actually out here because of my father. I hate his preachings as much as you." He wasn't even aware now that he was pacing, his tail flicking as he thought of how angry he got when his father bothered him. " 'Why aren't you in the den, Finchpaw? Why aren't you helping Hailstorm, Finchpaw? Follow your destiny Finchpaw! Don't disappoint Starclan, Finchpaw!'"

With another heavy, irritated sigh he turned to look at her and wait for whatever she would say.

[Rolo]

Frostpaw's interest perked up when she heard the young apprentice's reply. A spark of rare curiousity had struck the young adult cat, her mind beginning to work over all the cat had said. Frostpaw never gave the impression that she was one that thought deeply before she spoke because, indeed, she wasn't, her thoughts often becoming flesh in the air as she thought it, but now she had to stop and think.

Could it be that this cat was a little sharper and less sheep-like than she had first thought? She had assumed that, since he was studying medicine under Hailstorm that he was following his father like a newborn kit... but no. She could sense there was more to it, perhaps some feeling of responsibility. Whatever it was, his resentment was tangable. However, Frostpaw couldn't quite work him out.

Her mouth twisted into a smile. It wasn't a smile of cold numbness now, though. No, despite it still seeming a little forced, there was some degree of warmth behind it. Meeting such an interesting cat did it to her and, though she dare not admit it, the cat's admiration of her.

"Hmm..." She mumbled, finally looking up at him, "I don't hate you. I don't hate many cats, even if they hate me. There is too much of that thrown at me anyway, why should I make more?"

She exhaled and inhaled a large breath of fresh air, "But medicine cats... they conflict with my beliefs." She shook her head before raising her head sharply to look into Finchpaw's eyes, "Finchpaw, I don't believe you can tamper with fate. Your herbs interfere with that, and so do your... prayers. By nature I'm bound to hate you."

A glint of her old mischievious nature came through as she said the last words, and she purposely paused for effect. "But!" She cut in quickly, "I'm not mouse-brained or narrow-minded. It's not what a cat believes that makes them, it's how they find, use and develop them."

She stood up, and she walked forward a few paces before looking back at the male apprentice, "You're bolder than you think, Finchpaw. Yes, you play in the safety of the nursery, but at least your mind wanders outside it sometimes. That's more than I can say for some kit's in this clan."

She chuckled, seating herself again. "And about your father..." She looked at him, her eyes still sceptical but tinted with respect, "I respect you for going against him. I'm practiced at it, it's easy for me... but then, I've never had an equivilent. I've never gone against someone I care about because I don't have much of them."

Her last words came out as gaily as the words she had started with. There was no hint of sadness in her voice, she was used to it by now. The resentment was gone.

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[Whiskers]

Finchpaw, surprised by her sudden change of mood, wondered what could have caused it. If anything he was being irrational and annoying, ranting about his father and so on and so forth. But, obviously, Frostpaw...enjoyed this. He was not sure if she was simply toying with him or being sarcastic-- no, Finchpaw didn't think so. He had already established that Frostpaw was honest. Though she liked to play with emotions she never disguised her true intentions.

Wouldn't Rowanheart be surprised, Finchpaw thought, to hear Frostpaw treat me relatively well? Finchpaw felt a little giddy thinking about it. He could just imagine Rowanheart's face-- horrified and confused. He'd have a fit if he knew that his obedient, loving, oh so 'perfect' son was talking to Frostpaw. He almost wanted to laugh out loud.

"I'll continue to address the issue on medicine, if you bear with me-- I understand why you would think I was crossing a line by saving cats. But unlike you, I don't believe in fate. No," he snorted as he thought about it, "I think life is random. Disorganized. I ease a cat's pain. Is that so wrong?" But though he was defending his occupation, even Frostpaw would be able to tell he did not speak with passion.

"And, though I wish I deserved that respect... I don't. For I'm hardly going against him by sneaking out of that stuffy den to relax and be myself. What you do, everyday-- that is commendable."

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[Kiddo [le pwnsome]]

Featherpaw twisted her left ear in response to a small noise. She stood, as still as she could, the dove dangling from her jaws.

Nothing.

She lifted her paw to walk off again, when it came again. Conversation, several different voices. Her head turned, ears straining to hear. No luck, she would have to get closer.

She scraped a small hole in the snow, wincing at the cold on her pads, and deposited the limp dove inside. She nudged a thin covering of ice and snow over it and padded off.

00c//Horrid, sorry.

[Rolo]

Frostpaw was a little disappointed with his reply. He had so much been hoping to see a little passion in his retort, be it against her or not. Yet, instead she seemed to have gotten a half-hearted and automatic speech. What was worse, he had denied the first compliment she had readily given in weeks. It made her feel mouse-brained and weak now that the cat was attempting to turn the conversation into a flattery contest. She was not some kit that looked up in awe at the older, experienced cat, she gave her respect only to those who earnt it. Yet, this cat had refused it. It made her want to growl at him.

"That's disappointing." She said casually, only just managing to hide her anger. She was suddenly irritated, feeling as if she'd given away a part of herself which had swiftly been stamped on. "I was beginning to think that you were worthy of respect. But I'm obviously wrong."

She leapt up from where she was seated, her voice a little more subdued then normal but still harsh, "You aren't worthy of it, you said it yourself. I don't give my respect to those who can't respect themselves, it's pointless."

She growled, "And listen to yourself, apprentice. Listen to your own voice. Do not feed me opinions and feelings that are not your own. You should have gathered that I, whatever the belief is, I would listen to it... even if I'll hate it. You had an opportunity to tell me your true feelings towards your 'path', but..."

She trailed off, her claws kneeding the ground. After a moment, she exhaled and asked, "I dislike cats who do cannot realise they must live in light of what they really believe. Why DO you attempt to pass off such an opinion as your own? Is it that you kid yourself? Why lie and hold back? A cat that does not live for their morals and what they believe in will die unhappy, whether they be a believer or not."

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