skin deep smile / fly

[( kat ?! )]

thymecloud

Her eyes shined. Thymecloud was busying herself in her den, running around the den scattering various herbs on the floor. She had given Cedarpaw the day off today, and so she had all the duties to herself. She didn't reliaze that her den was so messy. It stressed her out, and she needed to get it fixed. She learned her neatness from her aunt, she was always a stiffler for neat and tidy things. Running to the back of the herb store, she noticed she was low on snakeroot and oak leaves. Sighing, she plopped herself down in the back of the herb store. Since when was I this disorganized? Thymecloud sighed, and laid down, looking through everything. It was gunna be a long day of repetive work, but Thymecloud was determined to get it done. Grinning, she sat up and moved out of the herb store, starting with the back corner of the den and moving frontwards. Thymecloud cleaned out the sickly bits of moss, and put it all into a pile in the corner of the den, and went and got more moss from her supply, and created new nests, weaving in feathers for warmth and comfort. Then she moved onto the old paste and poltiuces kept in a shelf, she pawed them out, careful not tog et any on her paws, and placed them on a pile just to the left of the moss. Her feet worked quickly and smoothly, and before she knew it, all of her chores were completed.

Thymecloud came out of the musty smelling den and plopped herself down in the dirt, enjoying the fresh rays of sunlight that came in from thje top of the camp. A small smile lifted her face as her bright orange eyes settled closed. This was a peaceful afternoon, one to be remembered. Thymecloud didn't have any needed patents at the moment and the mere thought of one relaxing day was bliss to her. Today might've been a relaxing day without thoughts of Lilacsnow, but once the name was said, her thoughts drifted back to her beloved aunt. A soft smile lifted upon her face.

The day was cold, it was mid leafbare and Thymepaw was having a little family gathering in the elders den, seeing as how at the time, her grandmother had been the only elder in the clan. Thymepaw giggled with her aunt Lilacsnow as they told jokes to each other, as usual her mother Heatherscreech was being the downer in one of the corners on the den, with her father Voletail all but forced to be next to her. Thymepaw didn't reliaze at the time that her mother was as evil as a foxes heart. Her mother got up and decided that they were to go for a walk in the woods, enjoying the warm winter day. Thymepaw started to wail, saying she was hungry, her mother all but bit her head off "You just ate! You don't need food!" Tears welling in her eyes, she whispered a hoarse goodbye to her grandmother and aunt, but all of a sudden, Lilacsnow stopped her and her mother. Thymepaw's eyes filled with joy, in her jaws was a plump mouse. She placed the mouse at Thymepaw's paws and told her to eat it, not taking one glance at her mother. when Thymepaw was done, she nuzzled Lilacsnow and happily went out to the forest with her mother.

At the time Thymecloud didn't reliaze that her mother was jealous of Lilacsnow. She didn't have a reason to be! But now with her mother gone rouge with her new mate, her father and grandmother were the ones here, taking care of her. She grinned and sat up and peered around the cmap, hoping for some company.

[flyaway]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, width: 445px; font-size: 10px; color: 4b4b4b; font-family: tahoma][bg=191919] Lynxstar had aged years in a moon. Physically he was still quite imposing. And why shouldn’t he be? He was a tom in his prime. Unlike some others who had suffered grievous injuries – broken or destroyed limbs, marring scars, lost eyes – he had only the smaller scars to tell of battles won and lost. They were trophies, a pride more than a fall. They marked him for what he was, or what he had been. He’d been a warrior, young, eager to rush into battle with the innocence and misplaced patriotism of youth. That had faded, in the past moons. It had become near unrecognizable. But then again, in less than a year, Lynxstar had lost himself – had lost Lynxchaser as he had once been. He had gone from warrior, to deputy, to leader before some apprentices had seen their warrior names come. It was as if someone had sped up time, the sun flashed only momentarily in the sky. Days sped past. But Lynx was stuck in slow motion, reaching pathetically for days and times that were already long gone. It was pathetic, self-pitying truly. Tanglepaw would have been ashamed of him. But it was true. And in these times, when the quiet surrounded him, he couldn’t chase the thoughts away. He’d glamorized his future. He knew this to be true, now. He’d dreamed from kithood of power and majesty. He had dreamed of standing atop the Highrock, of the adoration of his clanmates, of the jealousy. He’d dreamed of fatherhood. He’d dreamed of assigning patrols, of the command, of issuing orders, of punishing those who had wronged him. He had dreamed this with the thirst for vengeance that only a kitten can have, before any sort of wisdom or intellect had yet had the chance to settle in. These thoughts had faded, but the ambition had pulsed strong. Now that he had his heart’s past desire, he didn’t feel majestic. He didn’t feel adored. It was quite the opposite really. Tanglepaw’s shadow hung over him, blocking out the light of the sun. Each turn reminded him of his departed son, of the bright spot of life that had been lost. Doubt niggled its way into the back of his mind, settled there like a cancer. It waxed and waned, but never disappeared. Each day brought new fears. He feared failure, rejection, destruction. These were normal fears, to be expected of anyone, yet they hung over him, throbbing in his chest. He counted each day, wondering how long it would take the clan to whisper among themselves – to ask each other whether Lynxstar was truly the right tom to lead them. Perhaps it was foolish, perhaps blind. But it existed all the same, striking uncertainty in his heart. He shook his head. Worry weighed on him like a stone, dragging him towards impossible depths. He should have been able to smile. He straightened, shaking out his fur. He could feel leaves under-paw. They crackled between his toes, a symphony to the listening ear. He shouldered his way out of his den, stretching in the sunlight. Across the clearing he could see Thymecloud, laid out for a rest. He sighed and approached the young she-cat, “We’re too young to be so serious, Thymecloud.” He laughed, but there was a half-hearted feeling to it. Each had been aged beyond their young moons, yet bonded by the precariousness of youth and power. He pursed his lips. The topic of conversation was unavoidable, no matter how strongly he wished to pretend nothing were amiss. Despite his rank, despite his age, it was Thymecloud he had come to advice for – as if she held all the answers. For all he knew, she did. There had always been something mysterious about her, as if she had been a hundred year old mind born in the body of vigor and opportunity. [style=height:50px; width:445px]