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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 8, 2006 11:39:10 GMT -5
The hot sun was shining strongly from the clear blue heavens, not a single cloud present to stop its comforting rays of golden fairy dust. A soft breeze brushed the tops of the trees, like the breath of a Starclan cat on the land of the Clans. Birds chirped brightly in this warm weather, unusually hot for leaf-bare. In the Thunderclan camp, it was a bit too hot to do much. Queens had retreated to the shade of the nursery, and elders had come out to enjoy the sunlight while it was there. And another cat, though not all that old, also stayed out. Flintpelt stretched out lazily on the dust-covered ground, his stripey gray pelt picking up the lightish brown particles in great amounts. He kept his eyes closed tightly to guard them from the burning light of the golden orb above, and lay on his back to let his belly take most of the heat, silver paws high in the air. His tail flopped from side to side every now and then.
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Post by Fernpaw on Mar 8, 2006 11:46:45 GMT -5
In the shadows of the camp, a dark form lay watching the tom. A sleek body was stretched out, basking in the cool shade. Golden eyes blinked in amusement as the form looked on as the tom lay on his back with his paws in the air, tail twitching limply now and then.
Firen suddenly stood up and padded silently into the middle of the camp. She halted a few feet away from the tom and regarded him closely. She had heard the rumors, that this tom had been a loner before he had become a Clan cat, but Firen knew the truth. Watching the tom she noted the hardness in his muscles and the rough but friendly air about him. She knew that while loners were soft and vulnerable, rogues were battle-hardened, quick on their paws and hardy. Firen knew this because she had been a rogue as well, and she was well-hated for it. She now contemplated that perhaps the tom had been wise to call himself a loner, that way saving himself much disgust and hatred. She shook away these thoughts, shaking away all her bitterness.
Firen purred, "That's the oddest way to sleep I've ever seen. Is it comfortable?"
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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 8, 2006 11:59:14 GMT -5
At the sound of Firen's voice, Flintpelt slowly raised his left eyelid, revealing the dark green splashed with blue of his iris. A small smile, warm and friendly, curled up the side of his mouth. Firen was one of those cats who would strike respect in your heart even when they spoke calmly and in an amiable way to you. He closed her eyelid, the smile still on his lips, and answered in a contented sigh. "It's the best way I've ever found. You should try it. Much better than those cramped ol' dens." He shivered slightly as he thought of the dark shadows inside those mounds. To say the least, Flintpelt was claustrophobic, and did not at all enjoy being in small spaces. He opened his eye again, except that, this time, it was the right one. It glowed like a hot ember, its firey depths almost seeming to flare up in a wild blaze.
"What about you? What's your favorite way of sleeping?"
He tilted his head as much as he could while being on the ground, and opened his other eye once more. You could see the heavy contrast between the two sides. One was red-hot, sparks shooting from the burning hues, and the other was cool and peaceful, radiating calm. He was like two entirely different cats wrapped up in one.
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Post by Fernpaw on Mar 8, 2006 12:52:11 GMT -5
Firen mewed calmly, "I've always found that sleeping in an old badger's den rather satisfactory." The reds in her pelt burned brightly, as if challenging the redness in Flintpelt's eye to get redder. Her tail switched and touched her flank lightly before whisking down behind her legs. She settled down on her haunches, curling her tail neatly around her paws. Her eyes burned into Flintpelt's as she asked, "So, I've always wondered why you joined a Clan. The life of a rogue if very agreeable, I should know."
Firen was testing Flintpelt, she knew he could get very disagreeable and dangerous, but then, so could she. The she-cat wanted to see if Flintpelt would tell the truth, or if he would try to cover up his past.
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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 8, 2006 13:04:50 GMT -5
Flintpelt only listened with half of his ears to the she-cat's words. The twittering of a sparrow out in the forest had caught his attention, and he listened quietly to it, eyes still open and shining in wonder. However, as soon as Firen pronounced the word 'rogue', his miscolored eyes snapped back to her own yellow ones, and his eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. He shrugged slightly, a faint sigh escaping his maw like a breath of fresh wind. "Yes, I suppose." It seemed like he was accepting the fact, except that he hadn't yet said he had truly been a rogue. Only 'I suppose'. "Why do you ask, though? Before answering, I'd like to know that." He turned his head so that he wouldn't strain his eyes in the effort of looking at Firen. Both of the orbs were wide open now, signalling to the firey red she-cat that she had his total attention.
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Post by Fernpaw on Mar 8, 2006 17:26:21 GMT -5
Firen nodded her head, at least what part of the rumors said was true. Flintpelt's attention span was extremely short.
"Why are you asking?" Firen shot back. "I can dodge your questions all day, and because that will be boring, I want you to answer the question I asked you first. Why did you join a Clan?" The she-cat stared defiantly at Flintpelt, as if daring him to mock and ridicule her like so many of the others did.
Ever since she had come to the Clan it had been nothing but trouble. In the Warrior's Den she had been shoved to the spot closest to the entrance, and so closest to the cold. She had been swiped at, snarled at, hissed at, spat at, pushed, shoved, clawed, bit, cursed any many other dishonorable acts had been done to her. If Firen hadn't been trying to gain the trust of the Clan, she would have clawed the ears off every single cat who glared at her.
The she-cat wasn't interested in the tom's question, she wanted to know his answer.
"Well?" she prompted.
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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 9, 2006 1:02:41 GMT -5
The smile tugged at the tom's mouth again. This she-cat was demanding, and she probably knew it. But what with all the things that he had heard had happened to her, he didn't blame it on her temper. With a faint sign of resignation, Flintpelt turned his head again so that he could look up at the clear blue sky as he spoke. "I joined a Clan because I got bored of rogue life. It was...tiring. Always being chased off territory, always hiding, hunting in secret...so on and so forth. You should know how it feels to think you are hunted by all in the forest." He glanced back at her. His own coming into the Clan hadn't been all that pleasent, though it was easier than Firen's for the simple fact that they all thought he was a loner. They had been cautious around him at first, throwing hating glances at his striped pelt, snapping at him as soon as he asked a question. Some had doubted that he was a loner, of course. It was normal that Firen also did.
"But enough about me. Why did you join the Clan? And how?"
The question came suddenly, as if out of nowhere. If she didn't answer to it, he would just not pay attention to her presence anymore. It would be quite easy, what with all the noise going on in the forest and all.
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Post by Fernpaw on Mar 10, 2006 18:20:09 GMT -5
Firen eyed Flintpelt warily. After what seemed to be at forever, she broke the silence and stated clearly as if she no longer cared what any cat thought of her, "I joined a Clan because I needed a family, and a wonderfully good one they've been at that," she added bitterly. Her ears drooped and her whiskers trembled, then the she-cat's eyes flashed as she drew herself up and continued, "I came into the Clan only a few moons ago. The leader accepted me, but no one else did."
She glared defiantly at the tom. "I for one," she hissed, "Am dedicated to the death to my Clan. Even if none feel the same about me."
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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 11, 2006 2:25:45 GMT -5
Flintpelt, for a reason he didn't know, felt a bit guilty. It was as if he thought he was the start of all her trouble. Well, maybe he was. The Clan didn't want to accept two outsider cats at once. He had come first. She, second. A faint sigh escaped his mouth. Life was unfair sometimes.
"How do you know none like you?" Another sudden question. He always asked many things when meeting a new cat. His curiosity was never appeased. But the question was also powered by something else, deep inside him. Somewhere in a corner of his mind, he knew somebody liked this she-cat. He knew it. But he didn't know who.
Another sigh escaped his mouth. He was getting confused. He knew something, but not another. He didn't really care about what he knew, and wanted to know what he didn't. Which was hard, since he didn't know it in the first place. How agonizing life could be. He closed his eyes again, hiding the smouldering ember and cool, shadowed glade. Two sides. One cat. How strange. He'd always wondered about his eyes, since he'd looked in a puddle of stinking two-leg monster water and seen his face. The pale surface had reflected his image back at him, and he'd looked deep, deep into those miscolored eyes of his. But he'd found nothing. He didn't like the idea of having empty eyes. Opening his orbs again, he glanced at the she-cat once more. Her fiery pelt glistened in the hot sun's light, looking like wildfire as a faint breeze ruffled the fur. The golden pools inside their sockets burned with defiant fire. Even with her rogue origins, she was a beautiful cat. The striped tom shook his gray head. All she-cats were beautiful. It depended on how you looked at them. But this one seemed to shine with a blinding luminescence in his eyes. He felt his heart beat faster, and his face flushed red at the idea of him actually loving another. It didn't seem to be possible.
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Post by Fernpaw on Mar 11, 2006 6:38:08 GMT -5
Firen was taken aback by the tom's question. None had ever asked what she thought about things, not since she had come into the Clan. She tipped her head to one side, considering the best way to answer the question.
"If some cat liked me, why would they hide it?" she asked after a pause. "I'd be glad to have a friend, even if it was a cat who just thought a bit better of me than most." Firen tipped her yellow optics to the sun, as the golden light made her eyes glow and lit up her pelt. The she-cat shrugged, "I don't know what it is, it's just that every time I see cat's sharing tongues or hunting together I feel this hole in my heart. I know that there might be a cat out there who likes me, even a little bit, but I don't know who."
Firen turned her burning gaze to the tom once more and regarded him thoughtfully, "I don't know why I'm telling you this," she mewed, "maybe I just wanted to speak my feelings for once. I know no one cares, but talking to you made me feel like you did." The firey she-cat sighed and sat hunched over, her head bowed and her eyes intent on staring a hole in the ground.
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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 12, 2006 13:46:51 GMT -5
"I like you."
The words seemed to come out from his mouth of their own accord. He quickly clamped his mouth shut, mind whirling at lightning speed to find an explanation for this strange revelation, and finally spoke again.
"You're a nice cat. You speak your mind. And I like that."
In a way, what Flintpelt had said was true. He did like the fact that Firen said what she wanted to say. But what he liked best was that she felt he cared. Now that was something. Another sigh escaped his maw, and he looked back up at the light blue sky. A lone cloud had begun to wander across its cerulean landscape, and was now nearing the sun, offering welcome shade. The striped tom flicked his silver-tipped tail in anticipation as his miscolored eyes watched the small piece of fluff pass by, but the lithe appendage soon lay still as he saw that the suspended water would only graze the glaring orb of gold. He looked over at the red she-cat again, eyebrows raising at her hunched over position. It was as if she wanted to bury herself in the ground. He tilted his gray head to the side, black ear flicking in curiousness, and gave a faint, questioning whine.
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Post by Fernpaw on Mar 13, 2006 8:53:41 GMT -5
At the sound of Flintpelt's confession, Firen leaped up, anger blazing in her eyes. She did not want to be apart of some cats' pity party. But as the she-cat swept her eyes over the tom, she saw that he was speaking the truth. Not because he felt sorry for her, but because he truly liked her.
Firen flashed a dazzling smile at the tom, a purr rising in her chest. "Thanks," she mewed. She sat looking at Flintpelt for a minute, then she said, "I like you too. You don't care what any cat thinks about you, and you're nice."
The she-cat's blaze of reds on her coat flickered, as if flames were licking up her sides. Her yellow pools was studiously studying the tom's face. Whatever she was looking for, she apparently found it, for she sat back satisfied, her probing gaze turned to the sky.
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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 14, 2006 1:00:57 GMT -5
For a moment of tension, Flintpelt thought he had angered the she-cat by saying he liked her. Something, however, seemed to convince her otherwise of what she had first thought, whatever it was, and she seemed to calm down before his gaze. He let his own muscles lose their rigidness and his eyes wandered over to Firen again.
As the purr left the she-cat's throat, he also purred, eyes creasing up as a smile lit his face. Some cats reacted harshly to comments like the one he had made, and she had at first. But at least now everything seemed to be going along smoothly.
Her reply was even better than he'd hoped. She liked him, too. Maybe they could be friends. It was always a good idea to stay in touch with one who had been in the same predicament as you from birth. He smiled again, tilting his head to the side as his fangs were bared in a rogguish grin.
"I suppose I just ignore everything. Anyway, I could have just been sleeping while somecat insulted me," he finished with a snort. It was true, he was lazy. A lazy-tailed ol' cat.
He felt Firen's penetrating gaze fall on his barred pelt, and then leave him to stare at the blue sky. He also looked up, content to see that more clouds were approaching fast, their ominous shadows looming over the far reaches of the forest.
"I feel a storm coming," he mewed, staring at the clouds, and slowly heaved himself onto his rump so he could be in a sitting position. "Unless you like rain, I believe you'd better get inside a den. Or, if you don't like dens, then that ledge over there will do fine." He pointed at where Firen had been before walking over to him, a smile on his features. "I, however, will stay here. I can't abide small spaces, which is why I mostly sleep in the forest."
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Post by Fernpaw on Mar 14, 2006 10:38:41 GMT -5
At the idea of sleeping in the Warrior's Den with the rest of the Clan cats, Firen shuddered. "No thanks," she mewed. She looked up at the dark clouds, rumbling ominously in the distance. "Besides, what's a little rain? I used to sleep out in the rain all the time, and it never did me any harm, though it was a bit uncomfortable."
The she-cat looked around. She and the tom were alone in the middle of the camp, since everyone had evacuated from the heat and the coming thunder storm. Firen felt the wind pick up, and her pelt blew every which way, making her look like a blazing wild fire with nowhere to turn. Her golden optics blazed in delight, "I love thunderstorms!" she cried.
Her ears flicked as she regarded Flintpelt closely, "Do you mind them?" she asked.
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Post by Spiderbreath||Soul on Mar 14, 2006 13:12:20 GMT -5
Flintpelt shivered, but not in cold, as the short gust of wind ruffled his exposed belly-fur. He loved times like this, when everything was gray, even though the sun was quite comfortable.
"Mind them? I adore them," he answered simply, rolling off of his back onto his stomach, and standing up onto his feet. He flicked his tail joyously as another gust raged across the camp. The dens close by creaked faintly in the harsh gales, and leaves flew off of the surrounding trees' branches like whirlwinds of colours. The striped tom stared impatiently at the thundering bruises of the sky, blacks and dark, dark blues making up their hues. He could feel the dryness of the air on his skin, the moist wetness coming closer and closer in his whiskers. He had always stayed up, eyes wide open in awe, as dark clouds of passive misery passed overhead, releasing their load of heavy rain. It was a mistifying moment for him. He had always wondered how the clouds ripped open and let all that water out.
A black ear flicked as a wandering leaf settled upon his head, and he shook his skull firmly to dislodge it. Now the wind rushed rageously across the landscape faster and faster, rushing, whistling like a hundred yowling cats gathered into a single chorus.
"I'm going to stay out here to watch the clouds!" he yelled over the sound of the shrieking gales. The phrase was one that most cats pronounced when the sky was the blue of a robin's speckled eggs while puffs of whiteness rolled across it peacefully. Not when the wind was careening over the forest like a madman gone wild, the sky was one single cover of grays and blacks thundering and booming like drums and lightning snapped in the air with blinding flashes of ivory light.
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