lingering out of line [open]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 445px; font-size: 10px; color: 4b4b4b; font-family: tahoma][bg=191919] The leaves were soft under his paws. They crunched lightly as he walked, surging up between his toes. A chill went through his spine at each step. But in a way it was refreshing. It was like continuous jolts of reality, waking him up from his ever-present exhaustion. He had needed a respite, an escape. In short moments, in seconds, minutes, hours, the camp had been plunged into chaos – a new kind of chaos unknown to Lynxstar. And in his long moons, he had known many kinds of chaos. He had seen kittens pass, mothers fall, warriors sacrifice. He had seen apprentices go to Starclan without a name to be chanted. He had seen deputies crumble. Perhaps he had been too entangled in his own thoughts, the way he had been for many long moons. He shook his head to himself, pushing these thoughts away. He had come to the moors to escape the chaotic fear, the suspicion, the hidden glances he had little patience for anymore. He sought some form of comfort, someone to pretend that all he had finally adjusted to would not change. But who would do such a thing? Who would dare approach him? The number was few, if existent at all. A different Lynxstar may have sought comfort, but this one steeled himself in solitude. So for now, Lynxstar was alone. He settled himself in the long waving grass of the moors. Its gentle caress on his skin was calming. For all that the plains had taken from him, they gave so much. He curled, his eyes fluttering closed. There was a quiet that had descended, interrupted only by the whistle of wind through the tall reeds. Occasionally his ears perked as a mouse scuttled nearby, though he made no move to hunt. Eventually his breathing evened. His chest rose and fell in time with the swaying of the grasses. The massive ginger and cream tom’s face relaxed into the peace of oblivion. Yet he twitched slightly, shifted, restless in his sleep. Because something was missing, well, many somethings were missing. They were little things, thoughts and sounds. They were names and relationships and those little moments one held dear. But if he were to wallow in these, to let them consumed him, he would die out there. He rose to his paws, feeling suddenly fidgety. He couldn’t stay still, the silence of it all seemed to suffocate. He shook out his pelt, his shoulders hunching slightly. His eyes were slightly narrowed, deep in thought. His characteristic bitterness sank deep in the set of his lips. Without thinking consciously of where he was going, he began to wander along the borders, one paw after another, letting the mingling scents of Wind and River wash over him. He moved, towards the Gorge, the great blackness rising before him. [style=height:50px; width:445px]

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[atrb=background,http://i644.photobucket.com/albums/uu167/Rippedshadow/Templates/midswan.png] Swanflight had barely slept. Between her own problems, mostly within herself, and the fact she couldn't get Redkit to go to sleep for more than half the night the white queen was in a rather befuddled mood. Which, for those who knew Swanflight, knew that in and of itself was odd. Sighing Swanflight stood and stretched, being careful not to wake Redkit. It might take forever to get him to sleep, but once he was waking him was a chore. That being the case the snowy she-cat thought about going on a run, something she hadn't done since Redkit was born. And frankly, a run sounded wonderful. While Swanflight loved being a mother, there were times the open moors called to her, whispering of their sweet nothings. Smiling stupidly she left the small dip that was the nursery and peeked her head into the camp. Everyone seemed to be bustling about, doing this and that. Looking up to the skies the blue hue was brighter than it had been for days without a cloud in sight. A beautiful day indeed. Sending a silent prayer to StarClan for the day ahead she started forward, asking a fellow queen to watch Redkit until she returned. She didn't intend to be out too long, just long enough to leave all of her thoughts behind. Taking a deep breath Swanflights amber eyes scanned the moors. She could see a patrol checking one of the borders and decided to head in the opposite direction. With a kick in her step she raced off. The grass tickled her long white pelt and she sprinted and she purred in delight. Oh yes, she did miss this. The freedom of the rolling hills, running as far and as fast as your paws could take you. This was one of the many things Swanflight lived for. Then a flash of Foxfoot's face crossed her mind and she skidded to a halt abruptly, her eyes welling up. "No. You're better than that. You deserve better than him." Ok. It had been a few moons since they're break up, and Swanflight knew the world wouldn't come to an end. But it still hurt. And watching Redkit grow every day, looking more and more like his father was a reminder. She loved her son, but it was hard. And speaking of hard, walking a soft pace along the river's shore a familiar hard-faced cat came into view. Not that Lynxstar was unpleasant, but lately his features had hardened, like the weight of all the clans rested on his shoulders. She did not envy him that. Giving her fur a few quick licks she padded up beside him, dipping her head. "Good day Lynxstar. I hope you will not mind if I join you. Of course if you wish me to leave, I cannot refuse." she meowed softly, smiling. No use in being a downer. Optimism was Swanflight's middle name. Well, if clan cat's had middle names that was. 496 words written for lynxstar while listening to come and get it by krewella Notes? Finally posting with Swany!

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 445px; font-size: 10px; color: 4b4b4b; font-family: tahoma][bg=191919] He supposed he could have called what he was doing a patrol of sorts. He’d left one of his warriors, Fallowfoot, in charge of the camp. She could handle it, of this he was sure. And in recent moons, as time had worn on his shoulders, he’d begun to need this. He’d needed the escape, the precious respite. He’d needed to wander his moors. And somehow, without asking, Fallowfoot seemed to understand. She didn’t question, she didn’t complain. She stepped up. And he supposed, in a way, he was preparing her. Despite the extra lives settled on his shoulders, he wouldn’t live forever. She would step up, someday. She would lead Windclan in his stead. If not her, than another who would follow her. And she would need to be ready. So perhaps, leaving her with the chaos of the camp – patrols and warriors and apprentices who always seemed to need something – was the best way he could teach her. In ways, she was his apprentice, the last apprentice he would truly have. And every mentor knew, for an apprentice to excel, they had to be pushed. They had to be abandoned, left to their own instincts. They had to be tested. And as of yet, Fallowfoot had not failed him. She was made for such excellence. He tilted his chin towards the sky, his eyes fluttering closed. The wind ruffled his long fur, caressing him with undeniable affection. He knew, with a quiet certainty, that one day he would wander these moors. He would leave the chaos of camp behind, and he wouldn’t come back. He wanted to die here, in the grasses. He wanted the moor to consume him, for nothing to be left. He had lived these moors, these waving grasses. He had lived and lost in them. And someday, he would be a part of them – to feed the clan he had given everything to. He paused, taking a quiet seat. He curled his tail around his paws. Sometimes, he liked to imagine his ancestors ran through the grasses alongside him. Sure, perhaps it was blasphemy. The ancestors resided in the stars, watching them. But on days like these, when he could close his eyes and feel the wind, he liked to pretend that they walked at his side, ran and chased. Perhaps they were the wind itself. He smiled at the thought, a little gentle thing that floated across his lips. His eyes opened, his ears suddenly pricking. A small tired smile spread over his lips. The wind had brought him a scent, one familiar to him, as all of his clan were. He waited for her to approach, gathering his inner energy. He had taken on the responsibilities of a leader, and he could not turn one of his own away – not matter his own exhaustion. He smiled at her, indicating the area next to him with the tip of his tail. “Nonsense, my dear. An old tom like me yearns for nothing more than the pleasure of youthful company.” His eyes crinkled pleasantly as he spoke, exuding every grandfatherly feature he was so famous for. [style=height:50px; width:445px]

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[atrb=background,http://i644.photobucket.com/albums/uu167/Rippedshadow/Templates/midswan.png] Swanflight couldn't help but chuckle slightly at Lynxstar's words. It seemed while she was off daydreaming she had forgotten that Lynxstar was getting rather old. Thirty some moons over her in fact. Looking at him now, she could tell. The thought of him joining StarClan frightened her, though she knew it would be a while yet before he died. He was a strong and proud cat, and there was no doubt in her mind he'd fight it until the end. At lest that is what Swanflight liked to believe. Padding forward she sat down next to her leader, watching the river flow past in a slow and steady rhythm. So beautiful at times, but it could cause destruction just as easily. "Strange isn't it? How easily life is swayed. It's like the river. Calm and steady sometimes, but fill it to the brim and it can cause more damage than you could handle." Staring into the watery depths she sighed. Oh goodness. I just dampened the mood. Shaking herself she shuddered. "My apologies Lynxstar. I'm out of sorts lately. Of course, we all are I think. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but if you ever need to talk I'll be here. Everyone deserves an ear to listen to when times get tough." she purred, her amber eyes shining. Flexing her paws she stood up and did something a little reckless and un-Swanflight of her. She jumped into the river. Poking her head above the water she smiled. "Plus my dear, you need to let loose a little bit. Keeping everything inside isn't good for you." she purred. Now she just had to hope no pesky RiverClan cats showed up. The river was the border, but they always got there fur into a bunch about other cats being in their river. Then again for all she knew Lynxstar might be angry at her for jumping in. Doesn't matter now I suppose. 335 words written for lynxstar while listening to daft punk Notes? Sorry it's shorter, but 300 is my average ^__^;

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 445px; font-size: 10px; color: 4b4b4b; font-family: tahoma][bg=191919] In that moment, her eyes bright and her chest heaving, there was something undeniably youthful and vibrant about Swanflight – almost childish. But it wasn’t the sort of childishness that came with disapproval. Rather it was refreshingly endearing. There was excitement in her, adrenaline, a quiet search for approval. A laugh rumbled in his chest, his eyes crinkling. He couldn’t say he approved of her impromptu swim as a leader, but as a fellow warrior he saw no harm. Though of course the water appealed to him in no way. His thick fur would be weighted down by it, until it dragged with every step. “You, my warriors, are a constant surprise to me.” He shook his head. It was uncommon for Windclanners to venture near water, much less dive so freely into it. So much of their time was spent in the care of others, in the moors, their natural spaces. Every spare moment was dedicated to some task or another. He straightened, his ears flicking with pleasure. “Don’t apologize, you’ve said nothing that doesn’t weigh on my shoulders.”

[/color] He said no more on the subject. While he appreciated her offer, he’d never been particularly given to sharing or such personal relationships. His troubles were his own. He heaved a sigh, lifting a paw to his lips as he licked between the pads casually.

He tilted his face towards the sky. As he so often imagined, he could almost feel Tanglepaw materializing at his side. He didn’t doubt his son’s presence. He pushed the lingering feeling alone. He luxuriated in it at times, but there was no denying the falsity of it – that it resided solely in his grief. He shook his head slightly, looking back towards Swanflight. He smiled, though it was no longer as bright as it once was. “Life is like the moors, the crests of our hills. You must climb up in order to run down.” And as with everything else, their troubles would pass. And triumph would follow to begin the cycle anew once again.
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[atrb=background,http://i644.photobucket.com/albums/uu167/Rippedshadow/Templates/midswan.png] In retrospect, maybe jumping into the river wasn't the smartest idea. True, most cats hated the water (unless they were those silly RiverClan cats), but sometimes it was nice to feel the water seep into your pores. Then again, maybe that was just Swanflight. However, the water was chillier than she anticipated and her teeth were beginning to chatter. Swimming back to the bank she tried to claw herself back out only for her paws to slip in the mud, sending her right back under water. Flailing she poked her head above the water and hissed in frustration. "Remind me to never do this again." she grumbled. This time she swam to the bank and braced her back legs on a rock in the water before launching herself back onto the shore. Stepping far enough away she wouldn't splatter Lynxstar she shook her fur sending a spray of droplets all over. Shivering she padded back next to him, listening to his smooth voice. There was much truth in his words. Swanflight didn't know much about her leader really. But she had heard that he had lost a son. Swanflight wondered if perhaps that was how he became so distant. Losing your son like that...Swanflight didn't care to imagine. If she lost Redkit...chances are she'd lose herself both mentally and physically. But life was full of so much promise, just as much as the pain that comes with it. She thought about saying so, but looking at Lynxstar she knew saying nothing at all would probably be best. Instead, she gave Lynxstar's ear a comforting lick. Smiling she laid down, stretching herself into the warm grass. "We are all full of surprises I guess." she murmured, thinking on how he said his warriors surprised him. Blinking her amber eyes she sighed. "Well Lynxstar, whatever shall we do? Although I guess I was never invited with you to begin with." she purred. Rolling over to face him she tilted her head as questions manifested into her mind. Feeling awkward she looked away, staring into the river again. Honestly, it was none of her business, Lynxstar's past. No. It was his alone, asking him questions would only serve to make Swanflight seem like a kit all over again. 377 words written for lynxstar while listening to WWW by 1200 Micrograms Notes? Blah

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 445px; font-size: 10px; color: 4b4b4b; font-family: tahoma][bg=191919] In truth, he was utterly thankful for her silence. He could see the questions lingering in her eyes, the comforting words. But after nearly two cycles of seasons, there was no word of comfort he had not heard. They were hollow. They meant well, he knew they did. But in the end, there was nothing that could take his pain away. And he no longer searched for relief. It was about surviving now, doing what was best for his clan, nothing more and nothing less. So when Swanflight’s words died on her lips, he pushed back a silent relief. He would have inevitably made the comments on how the clan were his children, how Tanglepaw awaited him and so on and so forth. Though had he known about his two beautiful healthy kittens living in Shadowclan, well he might have said something very different. But they were a secret to him, fathered by a strange Shadowclan tom as far as he knew. He grinned at her, chuckling in his deep bass tone. There was a degree of sheepishness in her voice, in the tilt of her head. Yes, she hadn’t been invited. But he found he was rather enjoying her company. He stood, shaking his long fur out. Bits of debris – crushed dead leaves and pieces of grass – fell out and scattered among the river banks. He sank into a luxurious stretch, his jaws stretching into a yawn. He canked his head towards Swanflight, gesturing with a flick of his head towards the lingering border. “I had intended to renew the scent markers along the borders. I would be delighted to have your company, my dear.” And he meant it, thought it surprised him slightly. He had emerged into his moorland home in a melancholy state. Yet now, standing beside the water, the idea of company was rather intriguing, comforting even. How long had it been since he had had true companionship? Not since Jaywing’s departure. The young medicine cat had been like a daughter to him, her presence an ease on his soul. Yet perhaps Swanflight could be the same ease, the same weight lifted from his paws. He desired nothing more, though would settle for much less. Even a moment parted from his deepest thoughts was a moment of peace. [style=height:50px; width:445px]

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[atrb=background,http://i644.photobucket.com/albums/uu167/Rippedshadow/Templates/midswan.png] Suddenly Swanflight began to feel small and childish. Inwardly she cursed herself. She was always the cat who was a bit too curious for her own good. A bit of an over thinker to top it all off. And while Swanflight was completely aware of these facts, she could never seem to stop herself from over-thinking anyways. It was quite annoying whenever she took a few seconds to ponder such things. Over-thinking always gave her a headache, and put her off. Still, it happened. It was such a moment now. However, when Lynxstar looked at her, she smiled. There was no way she could turn him down. Besides. It was her own selfishness she hated right now, and whether Lynxstar would admit it she knew very well that he needed company. No one ever wanted to truly be alone. Sure, many would say so, but in reality it was always false. Everyone craves companionship, and in any way they could receive it. Standing she shook her pelt as well and smiled when he laughed. It was a nice thing to here. Something she realized she'd hardly ever heard him do. When at camp he was always so composed, so stoic and ready to greet his warriors with a swift but gentle fierceness to which Swanflight was rather accustomed. Padding up beside him she offered a small smile. "My my Lynxstar. You should laugh more often, it suits you." she purred. Walking a few paces ahead Swanflight took a deep breath, he nose filling with the scent of RiverClan. "Just as well we be on our way. I can smell a RiverClan patrol." she grumbled. Not that she hated them, but...ok. She somewhat did. Blinking she looked back at Lynxstar. "Lead the way." she chuckled, giving a slight bow. 300 words written for lynxstar while listening to fall from a star by kill paradise Notes? Blah

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 445px; font-size: 10px; color: 4b4b4b; font-family: tahoma][bg=191919] Lynxstar craned his neck back, his ears perking. The mid-day sun clung high in the air. And in a matter of hours, it would fall, vanish behind the last rolling hill of Windclan’s territory. And in its place, a moon would rise to preside over the darkened realm of the world. He lowered his head. Just a few days ago, a few precious days, that moon had been full and round – perfect for a single evening out of thirty. He savored the image of the moon. It had always represented something sacred in the clans, it was associated with spirits, with higher power. And like many others, Lynxstar had always held a certain wonder for it. Yet in recent moons passed, it had gained a new meaning for him. He found himself, each night, looking to the moon. He watched it swell and shrink, yearning for the day it would be full again. And he reveled in that day, in the time he could climb upon the rock beside his fellow leaders. In that time he could be near her, drink in her scent, let his gaze roam over her even – if he was careful. He lived, as pathetic as it was, for those stolen catches of breath and loss. But he pushed those thoughts away, bushed away images of Froststar. He meandered along with Swanflight at his side. He chuckled a bit lighter. He cast her a rueful glance, oblivious to her discomfort near a Riverclan patrol. “Do tell me, Swanflight, how fare your children?” Though he had lost his own, he never tired of hearing about the progress of the clan’s kittens. A smile twisted on his lips at the thought, an image immediately rising of young Robinkit. The little mischievous tom had become a favorite of his, though he wouldn’t admit it. [style=height:50px; width:445px]

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[atrb=background,http://i644.photobucket.com/albums/uu167/Rippedshadow/Templates/midswan.png] Swanflight cast a shy smile towards the sky, the sun bathing her in it's warmth. Days like this were nice. Nicer than she'd seen in a while at least. It seemed everyone in the clan was under some sort of spell, whether it was stress, sadness, anger...but as was life. Flicking her tail Swanflight watched Lynxstar with idle curiosity until he spoke. At that, she had to roll her eyes. "Oh goodness. Redkit can't seem to keep himself out of trouble." she mewed, a soft purr rumbling from her chest. "He's just like his father. Never sits still, always ready for the next adventure! Don't get me wrong, the clan will be lucky to have such a kit grow into a fine warrior, but he'll be lucky to make it there if he doesn't quit goofing off." It was sad, but true. Once again she was reminded of just how much Redkit was like his father. It saddened her, but there was nothing to be done of it. Walking along her steps faltered, and she shook herself. Coughing lightly to distract Lynxstar, or was it herself she was trying to distract? Nevertheless she cleared her throat. "I just wish he would have gotten a little something from me. Like knowing when enough is enough." The white cat smiled, forced as it was, as continued with a slightly brisker pace. Whether it was because she wanted a faster pace, or to get away Swanflight hadn't quite figured out, and frankly she didn't care either way. 255 words written for lynxstar while listening to hurricane by ms mr Notes? Uggghhh. Swanflight is my weakest character to me...meh.