|
Post by Spiderthorn on Jul 1, 2013 11:48:21 GMT
It was a pleasant, sunny day in Shadowclan. The prey was running well, the birds were chirping, and the clan was well fed and happy.
Spiderthorn hated it.
He had awoken that morning with a tick in his nest that he had undoubtedly tracked in with him after his night-time border patrol. The mouse he'd selected had been stale. An annoying fly had buzzed around his head until he'd eaten it and now he was sure that he was going to get a bellyache. To put it simply, Spiderthorn was having a bad morning and he hated everyone else for not having a morning just as rotten as his own.
The young warrior had slipped out of the camp at the first opportunity. Why not? He'd done his duties for the day and it wasn't like Auburnstar and Blackstep would actually want to call on him again. Not Spiderthorn, of all the cats in the clan! He had broken into a run the second he knew that none of his clanmates could see him. The curious gazes of Shadowclan felt like fire on his pelt, and today Spiderthorn wanted to escape from the questions. He wanted to escape from the happiness of all the cats in the camp, from the rumors that stung at his ears and from his own fury.
Unfortunately, the one thing Spiderthorn would never escape from was the venom that pulsed through his veins.
Spiderthorn's paws slowed as the acrid stench of the Thunderpath reached him. His ears laid back as he gazed at the black monstrosity that weaved through the forest like a bloated snake. How could Thunderclan bare to live so close to such an abomination? He cast his gaze past the Thunderpath and couldn't help the little thrill of envy that ran through him when he spied the tree tops. Well, they had other things on their territory that made up for it.
"Mouse-brain." Spiderthorn hissed at himself. "You're a Shadowclan cat. Who cares about trees? Climbing isn't even that great." He skirted the edge of the Thunderpath, careful to keep low and out of sight of the monsters that went roaring past. The last thing the young warrior wanted was to be hit by one of those. By the time Fourtrees loomed into sight his paws were beginning to throb, but Spiderthorn had already decided that he wasn't going back to camp yet.
He knew that there was a patch of land on the other side of the Thunderpath that belonged to Shadowclan. Maybe he'd go over there and antagonize Thunderclan a bit. Just hang out by the border and taunt them. It would do wonders for his mood. He darted across the Thunderpath the second he could no longer hear the monsters, letting out a breath of relief as he passed into the small patch of Shadowclan territory that laid between Fourtrees and Thunderclan.
He was surprised Thunderclan hadn't tried to take this territory from them. Not that they'd succeed. Spiderthorn would send anyone that tried back to their mother wailing! The tom settled beside the border, eyes gleaming. Maybe he could catch a Thunderclanner alone. Not to hurt them seriously. Just for one fight.
Just for something to make him forget for a bit.
|
|
|
Post by Grey on Jul 2, 2013 17:23:09 GMT
Light filtered pleasantly through the overhanging branches as the trees languidly reached their softly fluttering leaves towards the sky’s embrace. As a result the warrior’s pelt was dappled with lighter shades of bright orange. The mixture of warmth with the chill of the forest’s shadows was like a fresh mouse after a long day of hunting. It was perfect. With Brackenpaw at his side Foxfang could forget the glances from Palewhisker, and the others. He could ignore the result of his awkward behavior. He could forget about pining for his long lost kits. He could relax.
As the warrior wove through the moss strewn trunks of ageless trees he came upon a fallen log. Its splintered edges were already soft and spongy from the countless thaws it had experienced, and upon its other side the forest thinned to reveal the bit of land that ShadowClan possessed. They could travel there, in the open ground of the boarder, with an unobstructed view of the great looming oaks.
Foxfang hoped that Brackenpaw would appreciate seeing their destination. He felt that perhaps a bond was already forming between the mentor and apprentice, and he could foster it by paying such small and unspoken deeds. Certainly, the other cat had already weaved his way into the warrior’s heart. Hopefully the tabby was returning the favor.
With one easy bound he cleared the decaying chunk of wood. Quickly, though, he turned and lifted to rest his large forepaws upon the smoothed bark. Deep olive eyes peered over so as to watch his apprentice’s own progress, though he made certain to leave enough room.
“Judge your distance, bunch your muscles, and have your claws ready. The bark has rotted so be prepared for it to come free.” The warrior’s instruction came off as somewhat curt, but explaining his thoughts had never come easy to Foxfang. What he failed to notice, though, was the brown tabby not too far off and behind. The wind had concealed the ShadowClan cat’s scent, and unfortunately it left the ThunderClan cat completely unaware with his back turned to a rather grumpy foe.
... OOC: HAHAHAHHA Oh my gosh I didn't even notice I posted as Grey instead of Foxfang. xD Sorry about that everyone~
|
|
Brackenpaw
ThunderClan
Apprentice
Posts: 15
User: Sparkie
Mentor: Foxfang
|
Post by Brackenpaw on Jul 2, 2013 18:56:05 GMT
Brackenpaw gaped in amazement as Foxfang cleared the huge trunk. The thick tree didn't even faze him, but for Brackenpaw it was taller than his tail. He couldn't even squeeze under it. He gazed down it's sides, looking for a thinner place for him to maybe jump, so he didn't have to claw his way over and embarrass himself.
“Judge your distance, bunch your muscles, and have your claws ready. The bark has rotted so be prepared for it to come free.” Brackenpaw's gaze snapped up to catch his mentor peeking over the log, ears pricked, watching him intently. His voice was stern but Brackenpaw was getting used to it.
He frowned, backing up, and judging the height of the trunk. It was tall, but Brackenpaw gathered his muscles, clawed the ground, and leaped. He sailed through the air, wind whistling past his ears, and just like that he was on top of the log, balancing precariously. He tottered, but kept his balance.
His head quickly shot up, intent of seeing a look of approval on Foxfang's face. Instead, he caught another face, hidden in the bushes. He inhaled deeply and caught the scent of Shadowclan. Slowly, he began to fluff his fur, but kept eye contact with the enemy warrior.
"Uh, Foxfang." He mewed, quietly, gesturing with his tail.
|
|
|
Post by Spiderthorn on Jul 2, 2013 19:18:17 GMT
Spiderthorn didn't have to wait long for his entertainment. A Thunderclan warrior leaping right into sight, ready to entertain him. He even brought a little apprentice with him. He sent a brief thanks to Starclan for this wonderful bounty of idiots. Here he thought that he would have to wait for much, much longer for his prey!
He would have stayed hidden for a bit, but the apprentice had obviously spotted him. Besides, this was the perfect chance for him to mock the thunderclanners for a bit. An apprentice noticing him before a warrior? What a shame. At least the apprentice seemed to have sharp senses. He'd watch out for him in the future. He stared right back, yellow eyes alight with scorn.
"Uh, Foxfang." Spiderthorn mimicked, his voice full of scorn. He stepped from the brush hiding him from sight, carefully remaining on the Shadowclan side of the border. "It's sad when a kit spots an enemy before a warrior. Thunderclan must be losing it." He spat at Foxfang, his tail curling with malicious delight. It wasn't anything personal. It was just that Spiderthorn was hurting, and these two were a convenient target to take his rage out on. His claws kneaded the earth, tearing grass from the marshy ground.
He paced the border, watching the apprentice and mentor duo carefully. It was obvious that they were a pair, with how the older tom was instructing the younger. His eyes lingered on Brackenpaw for a bit longer before glancing to Foxfang. "Forget the bark. I think your brain has rotted." He taunted, trying to see just how he could push the warrior. The small tom knew that Foxfang was easily stronger then him, but he wasn't sure the ginger warrior would risk a fight with his obviously young apprentice so close.
"What brings you this close to the border all on your lonesome, rotbrains? I thought Thunderclan was too afraid to venture into the forest alone." He taunted, eyes gleaming.
|
|
Foxfang
ThunderClan
Warrior
Posts: 30
User: Grey
Apprentice: Brackenpaw
|
Post by Foxfang on Jul 3, 2013 3:35:20 GMT
A surge of appreciation for the golden cat swelled in Foxfang’s broad chest as Brackenpaw succeeded in ascending the log. He was constantly being reminded of how able-bodied the son of Palewhisker was. StarClan had blessed him indeed. Without hesitating, the warrior nodded his head in support, but as the other’s gaze fled past his own the first hint of danger was received.
Instead of spinning around upon his heals to face the source of fear, Foxfang quickly scented the air to ascertain what he may. A younger cat, by the smell of him, and of ShadowClan too. Best of all, he was alone. Good. Even with Brackenpaw untrained, the tabby warrior was certain he could take a newly named warrior –or at the least distract them long enough for Brackenpaw to run for help. There was something oddly familiar about the scent, though, and it put Foxfang on guard. Was this a cat he had met at a gathering before? Or, perhaps he had caused trouble along the boarders before?
At the sound of pawsteps and rustling foliage, the ThunderClan feline dropped once more upon all fours before slowly turning around. Behind the tom his ginger tail was held high as a sign of pride and confidence. The other’s mocking mew did not waver it, though Foxfang’s green eyes did narrow slightly in aggression. Who was this little brat of a cat?
Not letting his eyes leave the brown tabby, he muttered a warning to his apprentice. “Stay back.” He feared for the white patched cat’s safety, yet he didn’t want to send them away. Brackenpaw was a good bit large for his size, and probably appeared older than reality. If the ShadowClan cat was not paying attention he may not notice the scent of milk still clinging to the golden cat’s pelt from the nursery.
Planting his large paws squarely within the dry earth, Foxfang gave the low beginnings of a hiss. It rumbled threateningly within his chest, but dissipated soon afterward. “Aren’t you late for a training session?” His mew held the usual cold tone, but with it came a patronizing note. This little rat wouldn’t put him on the defensive, if he could help it.
|
|
Brackenpaw
ThunderClan
Apprentice
Posts: 15
User: Sparkie
Mentor: Foxfang
|
Post by Brackenpaw on Jul 4, 2013 6:33:43 GMT
Actually seeing a Shadowclan warrior was different than Brackenpaw expected. For one thing, the tom wasn't very big and he wasn't as ugly as Brackenpaw expected. He knew the stories in the nursery or told by the elders were exaggerations but still, he had been expecting at least one scar, or an ear missing, maybe only half a tail or one eye. It was actually something of a disappointment for him, if he was being really honest.
The enemy warrior was throwing taunts at them, calling them cowards and rotbrains. It riled Brackenpaw, since he wasn't a coward at all in anyway, oh no sir. After all, he'd been the first cat out in the forest to look for Mosspaw and Frostpaw when they'd gotten lost as kits. And he'd passed the test at the Thunderpath.
But instead of bristling, instead of disobeying Foxfang, Brackenpaw called on his endless patience and ignored the taunts. It was a trick Goldenhawk had taught him way back when his sisters had decided the easiest way to defeat him was to team up. He hadn't liked being gained up on, especially when the attacks were only verbal, but he'd quickly learned to deal with them by overlooking the severity and focusing on the other cat's insecurities.
As Foxfang approached and confronted the Shadowclan warrior, Brackenpaw, still obeying his mentor, sat down on top of the log. He carefully groomed himself, pretending that if he didn't do it perfectly, his mother would have to do all over again and that was just too demeaning for an apprentice of Thunderclan.
"Aren't you late for a training session?" He heard Foxfang ask, and he couldn't help adding, "He has to be, he's smaller than I am."
|
|
|
Post by Spiderthorn on Jul 4, 2013 10:32:59 GMT
Were they making fun of his size? Oh, it's on. Spiderthorn's eyes narrowed, the small tom's fur bristling in offense. No one made fun of his size and got away with it.
"Really? Size jokes?" He asked, throwing up his head in mock disdain. "There's more to a warrior then his size. I would think a clan led by Littlestar would know that." Haha! He'd love to see them think up a snarky response to that! He paced the border, his tail flicking irritably. Despite his less then intimidating tiny size, Spiderthorn moved with all the deadly grace of his kin. "I'd rather be small then all brawn and no brains."
The apprentice was infuriating him. How dare such a young cat act like Spiderthorn wasn't worthy of his attention? "Grooming in front of an enemy?" He snapped to the young tom. "Stop worrying about your appearance, mousebrain! You're just making it harder to defend yourself if I attack!" He couldn't stand seeing someone sacrifice fighting prowess for appearance. It went against his very nature. "What is Thunderclan teaching its apprentices?" He demanded of Foxfang.
How dare they act like he wasn't worth their time? He'd make them regret their disrespect. He'd make them regret ever leaving the nursery. "I suppose you want to send him to Starclan before he even gets a chance to lose his kit fat, huh?" He was on a roll now, having found a weak point and sunk his claws in nice and deep. "Maybe you're the one who needs training here, 'Foxfang.'"
Where had he heard that name before? He looked over the ginger tom, his eyes narrowing farther.
"Foxfang." He repeated the name. "What's his name?" He pointed to the apprentice with his tail. The aggressive edge didn't quite leave his voice.
|
|
Thistlefur
ShadowClan
Warrior
Posts: 5
User: Canbeezy
|
Post by Thistlefur on Jul 5, 2013 18:52:23 GMT
(Since thistlefur's application finally got accepted, would it be ok if I were to jump in anytime soon? x3)
|
|
|
Post by Spiderthorn on Jul 5, 2013 21:39:48 GMT
[Fine with me!]
|
|
Yellowtail
ThunderClan
Medicine Cat
Posts: 17
User: Canbeezy
|
Post by Yellowtail on Jul 5, 2013 21:57:35 GMT
(I shall wait until this pans out a little further, I'd like to appear as if Thistle just happened to follow her hot headed son the whole time xD Time for a family reunion!)
|
|
Foxfang
ThunderClan
Warrior
Posts: 30
User: Grey
Apprentice: Brackenpaw
|
Post by Foxfang on Jul 6, 2013 19:36:44 GMT
A tight, crooked smile grew upon the warrior’s maw as he watched the tiny tom ruffle with unconstrained anger. His grin soon faded, but a condescending look of humored disbelief colored his features at the mention of Littlestar’s own vertically challenged situation. But Foxfang was not one for words. Instead of snapping back angrily he simply waited in a somewhat amused silence as Spiderthorn continued to spout snit bits of rage. The ShadowClan cat hopped about the boarder like an aggravated starling, and the mental image was more than enough to keep the large tabby’s own anger from flaring.
That was, until his methods of training Brackenpaw became the next target. Immediately his face formed into a tight mask, and rage flattened ginger ears upon his skull. Foxfang already questioned his own ability to control his actions, to manage his breaking loyalty. The harsh jab at his ability to mentor his apprentice dug deep into half buried insecurities. That was crossing the line.
With long, powerful strides the warrior brought himself upon the heavily scented boarder. His claws then deigned to dig themselves into the soil upon ShadowClan’s side, though his paws stayed within ThunderClan. It was a warning, an indication that the invisible line would not keep him at bay.
Towering over the other already, he lifted his head proudly before tilting it to look down upon the brown cat with one cold green eye. “What Littlestar lacks in size he makes up with honor –something you have a shortage of.” Letting the beginnings of a hiss slip through clenched teeth, he added in a lower voice “run back to your mother’s belly, before your father will have to pick up your scattered remains.”
---- OOC: Oh my gosh, please join Thistle! I can't even imagine the angst about to take place.
|
|
Brackenpaw
ThunderClan
Apprentice
Posts: 15
User: Sparkie
Mentor: Foxfang
|
Post by Brackenpaw on Jul 6, 2013 22:24:07 GMT
Brackenpaw barely held himself from flinching when the Shadowclan warrior knew Foxfang's name. He hadn't thought about it, when he'd said it early and honestly, he didn't think it would hurt much, but it still put Foxfang at a disadvantage. But Brackenpaw's anger flared immediately when the enemy warrior mentioned Littlestar. No one insulted Littlestar.
He stood, fur beginning to bristle, ears flattening, claws extending. He wasn't going to break his word to Foxfang, but he wasn't just going to sit there and let that flea bag mock his leader.
Thankfully, Brackenpaw didn't have to do much. Foxfang was already taking care of it, prowling closer to the border and leering over the small tom. His huge size dwarfed the smaller cat and Brackenpaw felt a bubble of satisfaction knowing that both he and his mentor could take on the smaller cat, even without being trained. All Foxfang had to do was get him with one claw and they could send the little kitty back to his clan.
“What Littlestar lacks in size he makes up with honor –something you have a shortage of.” Foxfang hissed, lowering his voice into a threat. "Run back to your mother’s belly, before your father will have to pick up your scattered remains.”
Brackenpaw kept quiet, though, his tail lashing ferociously with pride and anger.
|
|
|
Post by Spiderthorn on Jul 8, 2013 0:19:27 GMT
If there was one thing that Spiderthorn was to be commended on, it was his bravery. He didn't flinch away from the bigger tom as he approached. He just drew taller, meeting Foxfang's eyes with his own fiery glare. "I'm not afraid of you." He spat. He'd met enough cats that thought that small meant weak. But Spiderthorn wasn't weak, and he wasn't afraid of some tom that couldn't tell his tail from a stick on the ground. Maybe he should be.
Then Foxfang spoke, and all that bravado melted off his face in favor of an expression that was almost vulnerable. No, Spiderthorn wasn't afraid. Not of some Thunderclan idiot spouting threats that he wouldn't carry up on. But that was just another claw in the wound, twisting in deep. He felt like a stupid little kit for a moment, taunted about not having a father by the bigger, stronger cats that actually had someone that wanted them. Someone that was proud enough to claim them.
He wasn't going to take that. Not anymore. He wasn't a kit that had to run back to Thistlefur anymore.
"Shut up." Spiderthorn hissed, his voice dropping to little more then a whisper. "I've got more honor then you in my little claw. An honorable cat doesn't threaten to kill his enemies." His tail lashed behind him, wagging fiercely enough to rival an over-excited dogs. Foxfang had hit a very, very sore spot. "I don't need Thistlefur anymore. I don't need anyone, and I'll show you. I'll make you regret saying that to me."
He didn't lunge forward to attack just yet, though. That would just put him at the larger toms mercy. He was the faster one, and that meant it was better to wait for Foxfang to come to him. Spiderthorn shifted, furious eyes focused on Foxfang.
|
|
Foxfang
ThunderClan
Warrior
Posts: 30
User: Grey
Apprentice: Brackenpaw
|
Post by Foxfang on Jul 10, 2013 21:44:40 GMT
“Shut up.” The little brown acorn had spat.
Anger flared in the deep green depths of Foxfang’s eyes, the very same eyes that had caressed the soft kittypet with gentle kindness not even two days before. Oh, right. An honorable cat indeed, breaking the warrior code at every flick of his tail. But the rush of regret and self-pity that resulted from the smaller cat’s jibs was quickly turned into fuel for the fire. The ThunderClan warrior did not want to focus on his own insecurities, so instead he focused on his anger.
Outwardly his fur hardly bristled, and his back stayed straight. But his gaze, always open and forthcoming, revealed the hatred. No, he didn’t hate the other cat. Sure, there was a great deal of dislike, but the true hatred was only a misdirected flare from himself.
One large, formidable paw lifted partway up. It was poised to deliver a stunning blow, claws sheathed to further the other’s humiliation. He was never one for sneaky moves, and he lacked the speed to try anything remotely underhand. But he was strong, and it only would take a glancing blow to stun an average warrior. Before his muzzle could even ruffle with anger, though, the other cat continued his taunt and said her name.
Thistlefur.
As if sucked out in some strange violent attack of the earth, Foxfang’s angers drained from every hair. Thistlefur. Thistlefur. She took care of this tom? Did that mean? Could it imply? The possibility was a large blow indeed. Stumbling a step backward as if smacked ruthlessly by a stronger foe he gaped dazed and confused at the cat.
It was dumb, unintentional, and completely utterly idiotic, but the thought still slipped through his throat in a strangled gasping question. “My son?”
|
|
Brackenpaw
ThunderClan
Apprentice
Posts: 15
User: Sparkie
Mentor: Foxfang
|
Post by Brackenpaw on Jul 12, 2013 1:36:14 GMT
Something that the enemy warrior had thrown Foxfang off. Brackenpaw sensed the hostility and anger drain from his mentor, leaving behind a bewildered and shocked scent. The bristling cat deflated, his large paw dropping back to the forest floor, and his face went slack.
In turn, Brackenpaw felt a shot of nerves race up his spine. Although he didn't really know his mentor, they met last night, but Foxfang had appeared confident the entire morning and Brackenpaw was starting to trust his mentor. Actually trust him, but now he just seemed like a lost, saddened kit. It was making Brackenpaw loose his confidence. Suddenly, the Shadowclan warrior seemed like he could take them both. He took a few nervous steps back, his claws digging into the tree bark. He felt his eyes widen.
Then in a choked voice, Foxfang uttered two words that made everything in Brackenpaw stiffen up, shock and horror jolting through his body. "My son?"
Everything in Brackenpaw felt away from him. He felt like he was floating, and then he was zinged back into his body, where he felt nothing but betrayal. His mentor, the cat who was supposed to teach him the warrior code, had broken it. His education, his loyalty, was at risk. His pale green eyes shifted to Foxfang, his ears flattened, and he bristled, this time threatening his mentor, a warrior of his own clan.
|
|