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Post by Whiskers on Feb 21, 2011 17:54:30 GMT -5
Firestorm
He had been waited for this night for a long, long, long time-- or at least, it felt like a long time. Really, it hadn't even been a moon since his last encounter with Harepaw-- but he found himself eager to see her, aching with a need to, like all his insides would burst if he didn't. It was stupid though, cuz, it wasn't like she was there. She could...NOT be there, that was a possibility. But he hoped she would be there. He really, really, really hoped.
So it was to this Gathering that he went with purpose, and though he had to travel there with his family, as was demanded of him by his father (well, he could make up some excuse, but he knew it would hurt his dad's feelings and...well he wasn't Finchpaw and he didn't wanna make trouble), he was going to ditch Rowanheart as soon as he could, locate Harepaw and take off to some corner where they could be...relatively alone. Or at least, out of the eyes of prying Fogclanners and Pineclanners, and especially Miststar, who would quickly punish him for his sins.
And he was sinning, wasn't he? A powerful feeling of guilt welled up inside him, increasing his anxiousness and paranoia about the whole event. He didn't want to go against the Word of Starclan-- but...but wasn't he spreading the Word anyway? Yeah, of course he was! Starclan could not punish him for helping a willing cat. So what if he liked Harepaw otherwise? If he thought her funny and clever and great and pretty?
These thoughts did little to soothe him, and as he entered the clearing,jumpy as ever, quite aware of his father's eyes on him from just a few tail-lengths away, he knew it was going to be harder to escape than he thought. Well, first he just needed to locate Hare--
The different cat stopped him before he could even begin his search. It was a cat he had never seen before, but his nose told him right away he had been sleeping in between the scent of pine trees, getting plenty of sin all over his coat. Firestorm instantly recoiled at the cat's greeting; though it was indeed pleasant, Firestorm only heard trouble. Did this cat not know anything?
He sneered immediately. Might as well get this cat off of his fur as quickly as possible, before Miststar or his father spotted him with a sinner. This was so not going according to plan already.
"Oh and what would you know of stars, sinner?" Firestorm spat at the large gray cat's feet, his eye drifting around-- yup, his dad was watching him. "Go back to where you came from, Pineclanner."
Little did he know, Firestorm had just unleashed a hive of bees onto the clans. [/size]
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Post by glowlynose on Feb 21, 2011 18:39:06 GMT -5
Rainpaw could feel his back beginning to bristle already. What was this little pipsqueak's problem? He'd only been trying to be nice was all! Did he have no social skills? But then the ginger tom's clan scent finally hit his nose (it had taken him a little while because of all the scents mixing together), and Rainpaw recoiled a little. Out of all the borders he'd been near, he'd liked that one the least. None of the smells were really distinct. It didn't smell free like MeadowClan or even damp and sweet like StreamClan. It smelled misty, if that was even possible, with an underlying mixture of strange smells- bitter ones. Yes sir, this cat was from FogClan, and Gingerstar had warned him to try and stay away from FogClan. Or maybe it hadn't been her. Maybe it had been Sableheart or some other well-meaning PineClanner.
Well, it was a bit too late to avoid that now, wasn't it? And this little spit of a cat was daring to call him a sinner. How dare he? He stood at least a head taller than the precocious FogClanner and could easily overpower him, but he didn't seem to be intimidated by Rainpaw's size. Little guy must have a lot of spirit. That was admirable. But still, nobody called Rainpaw a sinner and said the name of his clan like it was a swear word and got away with it! Didn't matter how much spirit the dude had.
"I know plenty about the stars, hoss. I could even tell you how your precious little stars got to be up there in the sky if you wanted. I could tell you how old your stars are, I could show you how group of stars make shapes called constellations- heck, I could even tell you how when a star gets too old it swells up like a giant balloon and then explodes." He smirked. "Makes a bunch of new little stars. But of course you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Hah, thinkin' stars are holy."
Rainpaw had heard plenty of his clanmates talking about some addle-brained idea that the rest of the clans had got in their heads called StarClan. If he understood it correctly, if you believed in StarClan and followed all their precious little rules you got to go up and hunt in the stars once you died. That all sounded nice and all, but he knew the truth. The cowboys had talked all about space, how there was no life up there, no gravity, no air, no nothing. Even talked about how the humans made somethin' called a space ship so they could go to the moon, even other planets and back, just to prove how there was no life anywhere else.
Psh, StarClan. The very idea was daft.
"And what you got against my clan?" he growled, stepping ominously closer to Firestorm. "You live where you like and I'll live where I like. You got a problem with that, compadre?"
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Post by Whiskers on Feb 26, 2011 13:37:36 GMT -5
Firestorm
Firestorm was already turning away, taking a step, when the large Pineclan cat stopped him with his own unpleasant snarl. Firestorm would have just ignored it, would have walked away completely if this stupid cat hadn't started rambling about what the stars REALLY were, like he knew the secret of the entire freaking universe. It was one thing for Pineclan cats to deny Starclan's existence. It was another completely for one to act like the stars were something else completely-- lifeless balls of gas that exploded? What? But what was really upsetting was this tom's tone. He talked as if he owned the world and all the stars in it, and cats like that really made him angry. The anger began to build in his stomach but he bit down on his tongue and tried to contain it-- but he saw his father making his way over there, to most likely see why he was talking to a sinful Pineclanner. His heart quickened-- Rowanheart was in earshot now, he couldn't just say nothing.
"Yeah, I do got a problem with that," he whirled around and hissed back. "No one wants to live near a clan with a crazy, kit-killer for a leader. And the rest of you are just as heartless. So by all means, give Gingerstar my dearest regards and leave me the hell alone." [/size]
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Post by glowlynose on Feb 26, 2011 17:26:47 GMT -5
Oh no he did not. He did NOT just insult Gingerstar. An insult toward Gingerstar was an insult toward Rainpaw, and he had never appreciated being insulted. Nobody said anything bad about his Freckles and got away with it! Kit killer? What was that all about? There were no kits in PineClan, and surely Gingerstar wouldn't have murdered a FogClan kit. She was tough, but she wasn't heartless. He'd seen her smile and laugh once- nobody could smile and laugh like that and be heartless. The ginger tom was probably just deluded. Gingerstar hadn't killed anybody, especially not an innocent little kitten.
He'd give this ginger idiot a chance to redeem himself before going crazy on his sorry, pathetic... er, you get the picture. After all, Gingerstar had told him not to make any trouble. She'd very specifically warned him to keep his cool or else he'd be picking ticks off the Elders every day until he became a warrior. Well, Rainpaw didn't fancy doing that. He'd smelled the bile once and it had made his breakfast curdle in his stomach. If he was forced to use that stuff every day he wouldn't be able to eat breakfast at all! He'd lose weight and muscle! It was very important for him to eat at least twice daily. No sir, he did not want to make Gingerstar mad. It was bad enough when she was acting normal- he did not want to see the horns and fangs come out.
"You feelin' lucky, hoss?"
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[/b] Rainpaw hissed, invading even more of Firestorm's personal bubble. Soon his nose was nearly touching Firestorm's forehead, and Rainpaw was trying to burn holes through his skull with his eyes. It was nice, he thought, being taller than his adversary. It made him feel good about himself, made him feel more powerful as his claws cut into the earth. Oh, but he should control himself. Gingerstar said not to cause any trouble. So he backed away a few steps until he met Firestorm's eyes. "I'm gonna give you one chance to take back what you said about my leader. She is ten times the cat you'll ever be, pipsqueak. I don't wanna cause no trouble now, you hear? You can take back what you said and I ain't gonna cause you no more trouble. But if you refuse, well..."[/b] he paused, purely for dramatic effect, his eyes still burning, "You better be feelin' lucky."Rainpaw already knew what he would have to do. That bigoted FogClanner wasn't going to take back what he said. Somebody whose opinion obviously meant the universe to him was hanging around, another tom who he saw Firestorm's gaze flicking back to occasionally. Was it an old mentor of his? Ah, it didn't matter. He was going to have to fight Firestorm for the honor of his clan, and for Gingerstar, and for himself. More cats were likely to jump in, but Rainpaw was one of the largest cats at the Gathering. With lots of Gingerstar's battle training under his belt, by now he could probably take on two or three warriors safely. Oh man, Gingerstar was going to be mad though. Would she respect him at all after this? It wasn't likely. Heck, he might even be driven out of PineClan. Well, if she didn't want him around, he'd have to go and be all by himself again. It wouldn't be so bad. He'd done it once; he could do it again. This time at least there would be a reason that made sense. Plus, he would have gone out fighting for something he believed in. For the first time in his life he was about to do that, and it made him feel good already. [/blockquote][/size][/color][/sup][bg=04213a][atrb=width,380,true] [atrb=border,0,true][/td][/tr][/table][/blockquote][/center]
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Post by Whiskers on Feb 26, 2011 21:01:22 GMT -5
Now Firestorm was angry. Just angry. He didn't need any extra prompting from his father or the rest of his clan, any pressure or glaring eyes or suggested glances to get him riled up. His fur stood on end and his eyes caught on fire and he hissed, baring his fangs. He hated how this Pineclanner was up in his face. He hated how he was breathing on him and acting like he was so much better than Firestorm, just because he was bigger or older. It made every part of Firestorm quake.
And by Starclan, he was a freaking warrior now. He was supposed to defend his clan, his beliefs, but also, himself. He couldn't let some random cat who he had never seen before tonight walk all over him and scare him into backing down. He would rather be thrown into the Dark Forest then make a fool of himself, or forget his pride. And hey, maybe pride WAS a sin, but screw it. If he didn't have pride in himself, he couldn't have pride in anything, and without pride, he might as well be Finchpaw. This was turning moreso into a battle for his own self-respect than over Starclan, or the age-old Fogclan vs Pineclan debacle. Truth be told, if it was about that, he would have just walked away, because Harepaw had taught him that Pineclanners were okay-- could be pretty cool, really-- just confused. And heck, he was confused. But not over this-- not over the fact that this weird-smelling, big-talking cat deserved to get clawed in his face.
And now that the tom was nearly on top of him, he could smell him very well and he recognized that the Pineclan scent was actually not as strong as another scent. The smell of tall grass and dust, not forest of any kind. The smell of foreigner, of an alien to the clan world. Loner.
Firestorm smirked at the realization. That was why he had never seen this cat before. Gingerstar had gone soft and had let in some sneaky loner into her clan. Was she still that desperate for warriors, even this late into clan life? Now that's a piece of information that Miststar would be delighted to hear and would give him some extra points (which he definitely needed).
"Sorry to inform you, loner, but whatever pedestal you got Gingerstar and Pineclan on, it's completely wrong. Pineclan is the clan for murderers, liars and cheaters. Oh wait-- maybe you belong there after all, hoss. So why would I take back something that was true? Don't believe me?" he smirked and leaned forward but a fraction of an inch. "Ask anyone in your precious clan about 'Sedgekit.'" [/size]
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Post by glowlynose on Feb 26, 2011 21:53:14 GMT -5
That was IT. Rainpaw snapped, and he felt absolutely no remorse about losing it. That FogClanner had overstepped himself one too many times. He dared to insult Rainpaw's way of life? He dared to insult his home, the cats he cared about? He would pay for that. He would feel it to his very bones. Nobody messed with Rainpaw and tried to make him feel inferior! It was at times like this he wished he was a real cowboy so he could just shoot something. He could really use John Wayne right now, or Clint Eastwood. They'd make sure Firestorm learned his lesson and that he learned it dang well. Yep, he sure could use a real cowboy right now.
As it was, before he could stop himself or even think about it, he was flying toward Firestorm with his paws outstretched and a feral snarl marring his handsome face. Then his paws made contact and time seemed to slow down. He registered very clearly the prickly feeling of Firestorm's short coat, the warmth of the skin as his claws dug in, the shock of their impact with the ground. And then they were tumbling, tumbling, tumbling, claws flying everywhere, screeches from random cats and the fighters replacing the subdued murmur of the Gathering. Oh, Rainpaw could practically feel Gingerstar's burning gaze already, but he didn't care. He was fighting for her and for his clan, so she couldn't say a thing about it.
And then suddenly they stopped rolling and Rainpaw had Firestorm pinned on the ground. It was such a surge of power, finally being able to pin an opponent! Gingerstar had never let him get there. Then again, she was always anticipating his attack. It still felt nice to have complete power over somebody, and he allowed himself a moment to smirk down at his adversary. Firestorm was probably seething right now. Served him right! Oh, and was that his nose bleeding?
"You still feelin' lucky? I could snap your neck right now if I wanted to."
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[/b] He moved a paw to rest on Firestorm's neck for emphasis, pushing down firmly. "I ain't gonna though. You ain't even worth half the energy it would take me to do that. I ain't never killed anybody before, and I don't aim to start with a pathetic, angry soul who blindly hates because somebody lives on the other side of a border and might believe in somethin' else. You just watch yourself, kid."[/b] He dug in with his claws. "Some cats in my clan ain't as nice as me. And as for us being full of murderers and cheaters and liars, maybe you better go lookin' on your side of the border before pointing your grubby little paws as us. There's cats like that all over the place. Don't pretend like we're the only ones, 'cause we ain't."
"And don't you dare insult my clan or Gingerstar again. You insult them you insult me. Get it?"[/b] Firestorm had said something else, something about a Sedgekit, but Rainpaw just ignored it. If it was important to Gingerstar she would tell him in her own time. Right now all he had to do was keep Firestorm pinned to the ground, which was taking a great deal more concentration than he'd bargained for. [/blockquote][/size][/color][/sup][bg=04213a][atrb=width,380,true] [atrb=border,0,true][/td][/tr][/table][/blockquote][/center]
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the.Scream
New Member
No pain..., no pain...
Posts: 48
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Post by the.Scream on Mar 7, 2011 21:04:18 GMT -5
Smokepaw gasped in disbelief. Two warriors- or two warriors and an apprentice-were fighting. Fur prickled, the she-cat watched on, beginning to become confused. Did some warriors not have respect for the so-called warrior code? Or was the scene just reactions to each other's hostility? Smokepaw wasn't sure; from stories, as a loner, she had learned that warriors were formal, polite, and conservative cats, yet protective of their 'Clans'. Not like the outside cats. Not like us... Though she knew loners were not like rogues, still, Smokepaw silently acknowledged her... her type of cat wasn't as formal, and it didn't bother her.
Smokepaw glanced at Quailpaw, whom she predicted looked as bewildered as her, but then she remembered her Clanmate hadn't lived the life as a loner, as long, and wasn't entering a new form of life; Quailpaw'd probably look angered or frustrated... maybe scared, disappointed.
Then, the tall apprentice began to realize how fast it was. Her mischievious side kicking in, Smokepaw silently hoped for a fight to break out. This would be shocking to other cats, but the reason she wasn't worried was due to her lack of experience; being a young former loner, Smokepaw still saw everything completely as a mischievious act, just as her personality provoked. Loners wouldn't normally act like this, understanding it was dangerous, but being as young as she was, her father never had a chance to teach her the dangers of life.
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Post by Whiskers on Mar 18, 2011 23:27:01 GMT -5
Rain slammed into him and Firestorm went rolling, unable to brace himself or the large tom's sheer impact. He had never been tackled outright by a full-grown cat before, in an environment that wasn't training-- it has always been playfights, or teeny little skirmishes with apprentices. IT had never been like this. Serious.
And dear Starclan, he suddenly felt very scared, the fear shooting in his adrenaline and temporarily erasing his anger and annoyance at the loner. He realized how real this could get and how this loner could very well tear him to pieces, or give him some rather nasty scars all over his relatively good-looking face. His heart rate quickened as the loner's claws sank into his fur, causing spikes of pain, which only increased the fear tenfold.
But his reaction was instinctive. He was not frozen with this fear. He had been trained against such a response and even though he knew, good and well, he was outmatched, he had warrior blood running in him too. He instantaneously, without even thinking, attempted an escape, a warrior snarl echoing from his mouth. He squirmed and hissed and spat in the loner's face, all the while holding fear in his round eyes.
He didn't respond to the loner's threats, simply reared up as much as possible, yowling and trying to claw at the loner's face. He felt the weight of the stupid tom give way a little-- and there it was! He was nearly up and ready to bite off that mousedung's face, but he never got the chance. It hadn't even been a minute when another large force impacted Firestorm, wrenching the loner off of him and sending him rolling into another cat right behind him. ---
The loner attacking his son had caused Rowanheart to see red. And nothing but red, as he raced through the crowd, knocking cats into each other, emitting a loud yowl as he sprang onto the cat that DARED touch a hair on his son's head.
One moment he was watching warily. The next he was digging his claws into flesh and screaming with rage. It was that sudden. Rowanheart himself was not caught up with his actions-- he was simply on autopilot, reacting with the impulse of a father.
But he did not pin Rainpaw. He simply attacked, with claws like blades, his whole body a storm.
"DON'T you touch him, you piece of filth!" --
From up on the rock, Gingerstar's whole body jumped with a start as one of the loudest caterwauls she had ever heard split the air in two. It took her a mere second to find the streak of ginger barreling toward her very own apprentice.
And then. Well. All hell broke loose.
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Post by glowlynose on Mar 19, 2011 2:06:45 GMT -5
Rainpaw snarled at this new cat who had jumped into the fray, another FogClanner. And he called him filth. How DARE he? He was no more filthy than a FogClanner! It wasn't his fault the little upstart had insulted him and HIS LEADER, was it? No! And such action deserved consequences.
What could Rainpaw do but attack back? He wrested himself out of Rowanheart's grasp, though the tearing did not feel very pleasant beneath his skin. It was easy to ignore the clamor the tussle was causing in the Gathering. They were being noisy, but they were moving out of the way, and that allowed Rainpaw to concentrate on Rowanheart. "You oughta teach that little clanmate of yours some manners, hoss. Might get him into trouble someday." He spat on the ground and leaped toward his foe, skimming Rowanheart's back with his paws to land safely on the ground behind him. Then his claws dug into Rowanheart's flanks. If he tried to move, he'd get some serious gashes. Rainpaw could see why Gingerstar enjoyed battle now. It was thrilling, feeling his own strength and energy pounding through his veins.
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Dovepaw was stuck in a very interesting situation. It physically hurt her just to think about what she should do. Her heart was tearing in half, along with her mind. She could go and fight for something she did not believe in, in support of a cause she did not support, proclaiming her allegiance to FogClan with the strokes of her claws and her blood leaking onto the ground. Or she could stay where she was and be purged later, probably by her own mentor. Either way, her blood would be spilled, which she wasn't so happy about.
Why was Firestorm so stupid? Why couldn't he have just minded his own business instead of getting up in that PineClanner's face? Even from her vantage point, she could tell that the PineClanner had not instigated the fight. Firestorm deserved it, the brute.
Oh, and there went Rowanheart, barreling into the gigantic gray tom without a second thought. This just kept getting better and better.
Dovepaw, why did you not defend your Council member in battle? You are honor bound and bound by StarClan to do this. You must confess and then go die. Blah.
She had to do something, if for no reason other than to try and save her own skin. It was a selfish reason, yes, but what use would she be to anyone if she was dead or broken? So she bid a swift goodbye to her MeadowClan friends, telling them she hoped they would meet again, hoping that they understood her situation, and loped off toward the fight.
"Rowanheart, you guys, stop! I'm sure it's just a simple misunderstanding. Cut it out!" Dovepaw cried out in desperation, stepping into the ring that had formed around the fighting cats. If they would stop fighting then she wouldn't be bound to do anything. "What about the Truce, Rowanheart? What are you doing?"
There. That should satisfy her star-tarded clanmates. Invoke the Truce, that oughta settle them down. Well, hopefully. And if not then you at least tried.
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Crowpaw sat back and observed the different contortions his leader's face was making. It was interesting. He never knew how horribly rage could twist something until he saw her expression morphing into a carnal mask of... he wasn't even sure. His innocent mind knew not the words to describe it. All he knew is that the fighting was causing it, and that fighting was evil because it made Gingerstar's face look evil.
He wanted to stop it, but he knew nobody would listen to him, so he just stayed where he was. Finchpaw wouldn't be afraid like he was. He would say something. He was used to his family getting in fights. But Crowpaw... he shuddered at the thought of even approaching so much anger, for fear that he would absorb some of it. He did not want to become angry. Anger ruined everything.
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Post by Pyro on Mar 21, 2011 18:47:26 GMT -5
Behold. The reason why gatherings were entirely pointless. No one could forget the fact that the clans were enemies, even if only for one night. At least not FogClan and PineClan. Aspenheart had watched with growing apprehension as what seemed to be merely a conflicting of ideals turned into a legitimate fight. And a fight between a PineClanner and a FogClanner could quickly turn into an all out brawl if not dealt with in a hasty manner. He considered the two cats involved. He recognized the reddish warrior, but couldn't place a name...He was obviously the sort with a short fuse though. Rainpaw, however...Rainpaw had always struck him as a bit more sensible than that. This was his first gathering. The large 'apprentice' should have known to be on his best behavior.
Stepping forward he opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by someone's caterwaul. FogClanner was ganging up on Rainpaw, presumably to help take him down. Wonderful. Aspenheart could slowly feel his own anger building, and he fought to keep it under control. He turned slightly to look up at Gingerstar. Why wasn't she doing anything? She was usually the first one on the scene, and from her position on the highrock he knew she could see everything that was going on. Was she really still so biased against Rainpaw that she didn't see fit to break up the fight? This wasn't just some loner that waltzed into the Gathering. It was a PineClanner. A PineClanner on a trial run, yes, but a PineClanner nonetheless. And damn it, that meant family.
A member of Aspenheart's family was on the line here. Maybe even his entire family if more FogClanners joined in. And if the other clans abandoned the truce...
The deputy walked carefully over to the fighting cats, forcing himself to be calm. As much as he wanted to go charging in, he had a feeling that wouldn't do much good at all. Then it would look as if he was attacking, and others might take that as a cue for them to jump in. He pushed through the ring of cats that was forming around the fighters, his green eyes were hard as the brushed across the FogClanners. Though he was sure they'd try to say different, the fault couldn't be all Rainpaw's. Still, Rainpaw couldn't claim ignorance of the code. He had Gingerstar as a mentor for crying out loud.
"Enough." "This is a Gatherin', not a bloody damn fightin' ring. You may have forgotten, but there's a truce on these nights. Now you lads might not like it, or each other, but tough dirt. That's the way things are and that's the way they're going to stay until your leaders or ancestors or whoever the hell you answer to say so, not you lot." Aspenheart heaved a sigh, trying to reign in his anger. He was starting to wind himself up, he could tell. And if he could tell, he was sure that everyone else could too. The fact that his hackles were starting to rise didn't exactly help either.
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