For Whom the Bell Tolls [Cedarpaw]

[Kin]

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froststar

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Froststar rolled her shoulders, seated at the base of a large, yawning pine. She flicked her good ear at each rustle and sigh of a creature passing over the land, listening for the arrival of her apprentice. Her tail was curled neatly around her paws, and the warm humidity of the air kept her bare, scarred skin from stretching tight and aching. In fact, she rolled her shoulders again, purely to feel muscle shift smoothly beneath skin that had spent moons protesting every little shift and stretch. The leader tipped her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the world and simply reveling in it.

ShadowClan land was fertile and thriving once more, and Froststar felt honored to serve as its leader. No matter the decisions she'd made in life, it seemed that StarClan would not punish her Clan, would allow her to remain a -star until the Clan no longer needed her service or her lives. Around her, the forest thrummed with life, the trees creaking and groaning with each passing breeze. The wind combed gentle, cool claws through her fur and ran them teasingly along her bare skin, raising goosebumps.

Though the sun had barely crested the horizon, already there was so much vivid life to be perceived, if one just knew how. It was a perfect sort of morning for hunting, though regretfully her evening was already occupied by a meeting with her deputy. Involuntarily, Froststar smiled. Her kits would need their mentor assignments finalized, as their sixth moon approached. She could hardly believe they were already five moons old, and so large. Soon, they would be too old for her to be able to set aside time simply to curl up around them and soak in their presence.

Her muzzle quirked, and she shook her head at the sky. All things must end, and time must march on, regardless of how she wished otherwise.

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cedar

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=(

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316

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[flyaway]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/gvmt7UI.png); width: 500px; height: 594px;border:1px solid #000000] [style=margin-top: -20px] At times, she felt like a lion among gazelle. She was a predator, a true power. She was made for greater things. And those creatures, those that dared to call themselves “warriors”. They were nothing. They were sheep, flocking together. Their numbers didn’t increase their strength, only accented their stupidity. They said they valued “peace”. But with near constant battle, not a kit within the clans could truly know peace. She supposed they prided themselves on it, the whole forest stank of their self-righteousness. She wanted to show them their reflections, the blackened purity they thought they held. She wanted to see their eyes, as she stood above them, as they viewed her true perfection. She could understand, in truth, why her father had left. There was nothing in the clans worth his time, or hers. She’d probably inherited her more…pessimistic…outlook from him. He’d been strong, truly strong. He took what he desired, when he desired it. He sank his claws into it, pulled it to him, and shredded it when he was finished. He’d done so with her mother. Hell, he’d done so with her quite easily. And for a while – she had hated him for it. But in the end, he’d taught her a lesson worth learning. There was no such thing as true loyalty – only perfection. Her mother, her sister, even herself – they hadn’t been good enough. They hadn’t been worth his time. So he had walked away. And Cedarpaw would never again let anyone walk away from her. And these clans pretended to have democracy. They pretended they knew something of equality. But they were a monarchy, established moons before any of them could remember. They were open to corruption, but blind to their own essential faults. Then, when they found themselves exploited, they reacted with foolish amounts of fury. Yet time and time again, they would make the same mistakes. These were mistakes Cedarpaw would never bring to light, fatal flaws she would never try to fix. To strengthen the clans, their core structure, was to weaken her own possibilities. Her dreams of her future, her ideals, all depended on their spineless compliance – their blindness. They depended on her achievement of perfection, even at the cost of others’ failures. She rounded a corner, still lost in her impossible dreams. They were fantasies, truly. For despite the haunting maturity of her thoughts, she was still an apprentice at heart. She was youthful, had little experience in the world. She was jaded, yes, warped and obsessive. But young at heart. Perhaps she truly would leave the clans, leave them for good. And whatever she did, it was likely her actions would revolve entirely around herself. But for now, dreams of dancing flames remained just that – dreams. She stopped short, a familiar scent hitting her nose. Froststar was near. The older scarred leader had instructed her apprentice to meet in the Pines though, characteristically, hadn’t given a specific location. So Cedarpaw had wandered. She had left hours before their meeting time. To be late was intolerable. To disrespect her leader, to show signs of carelessness or stupidity would be worth her life. For she was above an apprentice. She was something more. She always had been and always would be. She paused, giving her chest a few swift licks and straightening her shoulders. She moved with pride. After all – she was chosen for greatness, she was the leader’s apprentice. She held her head high, pushing through the last bushes to greet her mentor. Her quiet eyes were placid, but sharp. Every movement was calculated, stiff and almost hauntingly robotic. But such was the image of perfection. [/style]