|
|
Post by ±∞STREAMY∞± on Mar 20, 2008 12:03:10 GMT -5
OOC;;god. i have so many threads with you =D let's just yhope you join this one. lol. i feel like no capitals today.
f l a s h c l a w
his orange tabby shape sat alone; it was quite a while after sundown. the night wasn't exactly dark, but rather lightened by the almost-full moon and the sparkling stars of silverpelt. everything seemed especially bright today; tomorrow was the gathering and new-leaf had just started. an air of happiness encircled the clans. well, at least an air of happiness encircled pastureclan. how could he know about brookclan, heatherclan, and forestclan? i hope they're all right. not like he had any connections with the other clans, but...still. the harmony of whisper creek would be broken if something happened to any of the clans.
his thoughts drifted as amber eyes stared into the distance at the rolling blue clouds against the blue sky. it was still a bit chilly, and a breeze ruffled his medium-length coat, but the weather was pretty good. it signified the first day of newleaf.
he sighed, remembering the thoughts that actually troubled him. they had a name: winterstar. he had finally admitted to himself that he liked the she-cat as more than a clanmate and leader. but he couldn't tell her that, nor any other cat. he'd probably just be cast out of the clan. these thoughts swirled through his mind as his ears twitched in confusion. what do i do about it?
[/right] |
|
|
|
Post by [^^].Luna.[^^] on Mar 25, 2008 10:29:47 GMT -5
A rare event, it was, when Winterstar stayed awake into the night. She was a morning cat, but now she was a cat in mourning. She wanted her heart back, but there was no way... she ripped it apart every day, trying to tear it from his unknowing grasp... and yet, despite her efforts, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about him again and again.
Only a few minutes earlier in the starry, cold night she'd forced herself up and out of the camp to stop herself from looking into the Warrior's den, trying to see where he was. Instead, she'd gotten up. She had shaken herself awake silently and, following her sleepless mind and the nearly round shape of the moon, padded out of the camp towards the meadows beyond.
She'd hoped, when she left, that her mind with become fresh, thoughts of him wiped away by the soft wind that rippled the grasses. Instead, it made her want to talk to him about how she felt; not just how she felt towards him but about all her fears and thoughts, her emotions - good and bad. She never let herself show sadness or weakness to the Clan, but sometimes she wanted so badly to let her always calm, never confused mask down to him. He wouldn't want to see it, she knew, because it frightened cats not to have someone in charge who knew what they were doing. It sure frightened Winterstar. The decisions she made without assurance that her ideas would follow through...
She watched her paws as the followed each other through the tall meadow plants. Anything that would take her mind off troubles would be welcome. She started to make a list of cats that she would bring to the gathering, reciting them in her mind, overthinking every one except for the fact that Flashclaw would surely be invited.
Snowfeather would come, of course, because she was the deputy. There was no question about that.
Birchpaw should come, but the full medicine cat would stay back; it was important to have a medicine cat in each place, and Birchpaw needed to see more gatherings.
Larkwing would stay back, in charge of the camp. A trusted warrior had to be at home, and Winterstar's brother had come to many gatherings.
Swiftpaw should come becau -
And suddenly, her train of thought was broken. She saw a shape, a cat staring into the moon's brightness. And immediately, she knew who it was. She wanted to turn around, walk resolutely back to the camp. He probably would never realize she'd been there. But somehow, involuntarily, her legs began to take her towards him. She put on a polite, I'm-happy-to-see-you-but-only-the-normal-amount face and continued, realizing that she had no choice in the matter. As quickly as possible she tried to think of excuses that she could use for why she was out in the night air.
|
|
