gale
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Post by gale on Apr 13, 2013 15:54:55 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:35px; width: 230px; height:350px; overflow:auto; float:right; margin-right:5px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] This wasn't the first time that Thornpaw had done something on his own. Instead of waiting like the other apprentices in the camp, the multi-hued tom had walked out and headed straight for the river. He was sure that his mentor would find him soon by following his scent. It wasn't like he was really breaking any rules. He just wanted to start training and get it over with.
His mentor was a young one, a she-cat named Minnowleap. She was pretty, with a white and grey tabby coat and petite frame. Not that any of that mattered to him. From what he understood, she was inexperienced and he had not missed the sorrow that passed through the eyes of the Clan when they looked at her. Something in her past still echoed in the present and most likely, would continue in her future. As to what that something was, Thornpaw didn't know. Then again, he didn't really care. He didn't care for anyone, especially treacherous she-cats. They were fickle and could turn on a cat as easily as the leaves fall from the trees every leaf-fall.
The tip of his long tail twitched as he sat himself down on the river's banks. Six more moons then he would be a warrior. With Minnowleap as his mentor, he was certain that the next six moons would be the longest of his life. Thornpaw sighed softly as his green eyes turned to the raging river that kept his Clan safe. The current was powerful, something that was no unusual for this time of year. Though, the current was usually a force to be reckoned with, no matter what the season was.
Thornpaw's powerful muscles ripped beneath his fur and skin as he stood up again. For an apprentice his age, Thornpaw was massive. He was bigger than the rest of the apprentices and could nearly be mistaken for a young warrior if it weren't for his youthful features. In fact, Thornpaw was larger than his mentor and most likely weighed more. He was glad that while the other kits had played with each other, he had been given the chance to train himself with the few warrior moves that Stormcloud had shown him.
Ripping his eyes from the river, Thornpaw shut his mind down from its attempted retreat through memory lane. He didn't need to go back to thoughts of his late parents. They wouldn't want him to show any weakness. His strength would be what they would be proud of. If Minnowleap got here soon, he'd show her exactly what he could be too.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Apr 13, 2013 17:12:38 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:55px; width: 270px; height:290px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:45px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] The sun hung lazily in the sky, as if it couldn’t quite be bothered to climb any higher. Minnowleap tilted back her chin, blinking up at it. She wished, desperately, that she could slink back into the den, curl up in her nest and hide within the depths of the shadows. She could feel the eyes, the gazes that flicked to her, then quickly away again. She drew in a shaking breath. She stood at the entrance to the camp, a few measly steps and she would crest the barrier. But she couldn’t bring herself to move. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been outside the camp, it was rather that she was loathe to approach her actual destination.
Her ears flicked back and she forced herself to move. She crossed the barrier, vanishing into the surrounding reeds and bushes. She forced herself to move mechanically, on autopilot. The river had once been her solace, her place of retreat. But in the past months, the mere thought of its swirling depths brought memories of Peregrinecry, her scent and calm tinkling laughter. Her body haunted the place, as if her spirit still clung to it – desperate to remind Minnowleap of everything she had failed to accomplish, everything she wasn’t that Peregrinecry had once been.
What was worse, she knew Thornpaw would be waiting for her. She knew the young apprentice, or at least knew of him. He was a massive beast of a tom, and something distinctly dangerous clung to him. His youth meant a degree of ignorance – at least on the issue of Peregrinecry. Yet somehow that failed to comfort her. She’d yet to speak to him, to interact with him. But she remembered his ceremony merely a day before, the moment he’d met her eyes, the cool calculating look as he’d let his gaze travel openly over her. She shivered at the memory.
She remembered his eyes most of all, and the smallest of gasps she had uttered at seeing them. He had the greenest eyes she’d every seen. She hadn’t been able to help peering at him, noticing the deeper golden flecks within his irises. They were beautiful, but reminded her of the bright red deathberries that Graystream had always warned her not to touch. They were so beautiful, so alluring, but deadly and mysterious. She’d been aware of his eyes as he looked her up and down. Even now it made her spine prickle, and her heart race. She’d observed him, just as he had observed her. And compared to his eyes, his brown tabby coat was so very ordinary. It was almost surprising. She’d yet to hear him utter a single word. Despite his dangerous appearance, the shiver that ran down her spine, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to the massive quiet tom. He was a powerful storm, so destructive. Yet a part of nature, the circle of life and the continuation of rebirth. Perhaps Thornpaw was the same, so destructive in appearance, but something different within. As Minnowleap pushed through the last bushes, emerged onto the riverbanks, she found she wanted to know. She froze for a moment, before forcing herself to take a seat, to wrap her tail around her paws. She attempted to remain cool, calm and collected as Peregrinecry had once been. Yet every fiber of her being leaned towards Thornpaw.
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gale
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Post by gale on Apr 15, 2013 0:49:30 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:35px; width: 230px; height:350px; overflow:auto; float:right; margin-right:5px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] Thornpaw heard the quiet paw steps just before Minnowleap came through the bushes. His green eyes locked onto his mentor as she took a seat on the ground and wrapped her tail around her paws. He did not fail to notice the way the she-cat was looking at him. They were both studying each other, analyzing. While he merely wished to see the outside, he felt that she wanted to know what was beneath his dangerous, hard appearance. Had he been alone he probably would have chuckled darkly.
There was no way that he would let Minnowleap into his tiny world. He fought tooth and claw to keep others out; he wasn't about to break his rules just for a she-cat. Then again.. He could "educate" her in the affairs of the heart by giving her a heart break. Assuming that what was causing her to look at him like she was, was a sign of affection. His green eyes betrayed nothing as he stood to face his mentor.
Even while sitting, Thornpaw had been taller than his mentor. But standing, well that made him tower over her. A certain darkness seemed to envelop the apprentice and he knew that there were times that it drew cats in--especially she-cats--rather than drive them out. If he was correct in his assumption, Minnowleap would be one of those who would be drawn in rather than turn and run like he would suggest to others.
"I didn't think you'd make it." He spoke quietly. His voice held a dark tone to it though a female never could hear it. It was often taken as a threat by males which led to his popularity and his growing reputation.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Apr 15, 2013 16:43:10 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:55px; width: 270px; height:290px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:45px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] Thornpaw was still looking at her, and Minnowleap couldnt look away. She thought for a moment that he might be reading her thoughts. If he did, what would he find? Her wariness of him for sure, her discomfort, but also the strange hold he had over her. She was intrigued by him, enough that she couldn’t put it out of her mind. He was alluring. She felt like a salmon. She swam upriver so oblivious to the predator waiting on the banks. She had swum right into a trap and Thornpaw had swiped his paw down and snatched her. Now, no matter how much she wriggled and struggled, he would consume her. Of course, this may have been a little dramatic considering that she had known Thornpaw for a matter of minutes.
His voice was so even, but again Minnowleap had the feeling that everything he said had a double meaning. It was as if he had some hidden ulterior motive. Minnowleap wanted him to speak, to say everything he meant and everything he thought. But at the same time, she knew that would repulse her. It wouldn't be right. Though she had no right to claim knowing him, she felt it would be wrong. She cleared her throat, pushing these thoughts away. She knew nothing of him. She needed to know nothing. She was his mentor, nothing more. And she had a duty to perform – a duty Peregrinecry would not have wandered from so easily. Her ears flicked back and she spoke quietly, though managed to keep her voice even. “And what could that thought have been based in? I have a job to do.” The words were elegant, betraying her intellectual nature. It was a habit, one she’d learned from Peregrinecry and never quite managed to break.
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gale
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Post by gale on Apr 29, 2013 23:34:59 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:35px; width: 230px; height:350px; overflow:auto; float:right; margin-right:5px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px]"True enough." Thornpaw replied, the matter fading from his mind with a flick of his tail.
His green eyes contained a new, vicious light. The beast that lay inside was clawing its way through his barriers and starting to make its omnipresence known to all. It was like a bane on Thornpaw's existence. Something was angering him but he did not know what it was and if he didn't find out soon, he would lash out. There was a fire in his soul that grew hotter and hotter with each passing second. All the muscles on his jaw tightened as he struggled to with hold the monster. Every tendon, tissue, and fiber in his body grew rigid from the strain. In order to take his mind off of the anger, he kept his inspecting eyes on Minnowleap.
There had been something about her before she had started speaking to him. Green eyes glanced at the river and he felt the notion of an idea blossom in his mind. Perhaps. Thornpaw stood, his anger mostly forgotten as he turned from his mentor and walked closer to the edge of the river. The young apprentice's weight caused the mud around the river to suck in his paws. The churning water was only a few mouse lengths away and that's exactly how he wanted it to be. If he was correct, there would be a response that would come from his mentor.
"The river, it's a beautiful thing. Is it not?" He kept himself from looking at Minnowleap as he stood so close to the river. It may have looked like he was being careless, but the young tom was actually watching upriver to ensure that no unexpected surges would reach him. Needless to say, if there was a large enough one, it would sweep him away without any doubt. Thornpaw would just have to hope that none existed.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Apr 30, 2013 13:03:45 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:55px; width: 270px; height:290px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:45px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] She watched him uncertainly. She had planned words, had managed to control herself. She had planned their lessons, ways in which to simply survive the encounter – perhaps even to thrive. But he seemed determined to challenge her, to push her towards limits she hadn’t yet explored. She cleared her throat. Now was her chance to lead him away, perhaps the pretense of a stalking practice, of anything. She didn’t honestly know his limits, what he had been taught by his previous mentor. She forced her voice to remain firm, not to shake with her own sense of insufficiency. “What progress were you able to make with your previous mentor?”
But he seemed to be unaware of her. No, that wasn’t it exactly. He was aware of her with every fiber of his being. His gaze was concentrated on her. He deliberately ignored his words. He had taken a stance of dominance, one she couldn’t fathom how to reverse. How had the dynamic changed so suddenly, and so drastically? She felt as if she had become small, beaten down by him in mere seconds. Somehow she was the apprentice, unable to comprehend. And he had stolen every ounce of knowledge, of power or wisdom from her.
Her pelt prickled as he neared the river. The sound of his paws squelching in the mud made her fur stand on end. She couldn’t erase Peregrinecry’s limp body, her fur plastered to her skin, how small she had looked. She shoved the image away, a light edge to her voice. She was gritting her teeth, fighting off hysteria. “Beautiful and deadly. Come,” She fought to put authority in her voice, power. And she succeeded, slightly. At least she sounded more firm than she had before, slightly more sure of herself. “We have training to do.”
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gale
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Post by gale on Apr 30, 2013 23:54:58 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:35px; width: 230px; height:350px; overflow:auto; float:right; margin-right:5px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] "I had made a great deal of progress. Far too much for my aging mentor to keep up with." Thornpaw replied, finally letting his gaze return to Minnowleap. The multi-hued tom had only been an apprentice for just over half a moon and he had proved too much for his previous mentor. He was just too full of bitterness and energy for the older cat to keep up with; his mentor had retired and cast him to Minnowleap.
Ah, so he had discovered something. There was a tragic past in Minnowleap's history. Something that had to do with the raging waters of the river. Thornpaw was unsure as to what had exactly happened, but he would bet all his fresh-kill that it had been a death of a close family member or a friend. Or.. Maybe even a former lover. A dark feeling arose in his mind but it was silenced before it could grow. He knew not of what it had been, not that he desired that knowledge.
"Only to those whose lives must be taken by its wrath." He answered her, though she did not seek such a thing. In its own, it was a small, indirect jab towards her. Of course, it did have more than one meaning towards it. It was an indirect way for him to share a view of his. Thornpaw held the powerful belief that StarClan made things happen for a reason. It was the one thing that kept him sane after the demise of his parents.
Slowly, he pulled his paws from the mud and started to walk slowly towards Minnowleap. His green eyes became guarded and cold as his thoughts were forced aside. Coming to a stop in front of his youthful mentor, Thornpaw gazed at her, his eyes still analyzing her every move.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on May 1, 2013 12:44:35 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:55px; width: 270px; height:290px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:45px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] His words caused her skin to prickle. She couldn’t fathom why. He was an apprentice. She wasn’t one who believed youth to be an innocent thing. Innocence could be lost at any age. But the amount of bitterness, the darkness so clear in his every movement, was unusual. It was anxiety producing even. And she couldn’t blame his previous mentor for retiring. A part of her wanted to escape from his clutches, shove him onto some other poor warrior. But another part of her couldn’t bear the thought of being separated, of another stealing him away from her. Yet the mere thought was foolish, she didn’t know the first thing about him.
She stiffened slightly at his words, ducking her head. She didn’t believe in fate, that anyone had a time or a need to die. She couldn’t believe that, that there was an unavoidable path waiting for her. “Time and fate are neither perfect nor always intentional.” She would not argue the basics of destiny, of right and wrong with him. She got the feeling that he would destroy her, crush every belief she had ever held. And she would be left with nothing, no clue of even where to turn. And she would not lose her faith in such a manner.
He approached and she resisted the urge to recoil. Instead she flicked her tail, motioning for him to follow her. They reached a small open area. She cleared her voice, taking a seat and wrapping her tightly around her paws – as if somehow that would keep her safe. “I need to test the boundaries of your apprenticeship.” She flicked her tail towards the surrounding bushes and trees, long stalks of reeds. “I’d like you to attempt to stalk me. If I scent you, or target your presence, you must begin again.” This was a tactic, an exercise, her mentor had once used with her.
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gale
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Post by gale on May 2, 2013 1:15:41 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:35px; width: 230px; height:350px; overflow:auto; float:right; margin-right:5px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] "I concur with that statement." Thornpaw answered in kind, though he didn't continue the matter. There was a touch of sadness to his mew, one that hinted at all the emotions that had been buried deep inside of him.
As they walked, Thornpaw kept a distance between himself and Minnowleap. She seemed to possess a natural grace that reminded him of a swan taking flight while she walked. There was something about her that struck him as odd. For one thing, she seemed eternally sad. While she put on a brave face for the others of the Clan, he could easily see right through that facade of hers.
She sat down and curled her tail around her petite paws. Something that he noted as a hobby of hers. Though he did notice that her tail was more rigid than what was the norm. Nonetheless, Thornpaw followed suit, though his tail went straight out like a banner behind him. A small smile grew on his face as he was given a challenge. His own smile was toxic, something that had an immediate effect on everyone who saw it. His smirk, it was dangerous. It showed that he was angry and that he was going to get revenge.
"Good choice. The reeds will definitely assist you in hiding and will make it difficult for me to move without breaking their weaker stalks." He reported, despite not being asked. Thornpaw wondered if his mentor had even considered such before choosing the location. Then again, he didn't really care.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on May 4, 2013 1:18:31 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:55px; width: 270px; height:290px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:45px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] She could feel his eyes, like blackberry thorns tugging at her fur. It was ironic, in a way, how aptly named he was. Her previous analogy of a salmon and a hunter came to mind. The more she lingered on the analysis, the more accurate it seemed to become. Yet she couldn’t help wondering whether her feelings of helplessness, of weakness and paralysis, were unique to her alone. She had difficulty imagining other warriors squirming under his stare as she did, succumbing so easily to his intimidation, to the too-dark depth to his eyes. Or perhaps they were blind to it, immune to the way it captures her, held her immobile.
Either way, he was a distinctly dangerous creature. She kept silent. She had no intention of moving from the space she had chosen. The wide clear circle would make her challenge more difficult – as in the open space there was nothing he could seek shelter behind. The test was not whether she could hide from him, but whether he from her. The very tip of her tail twitched towards the surrounding territory. “There is no time limit. Stay within the clan territory.” Her words were not curt, not commanding. Yet she managed to keep her voice calm. It was low, quiet, but not some fragile whisper. She tended to speak quietly. Perhaps it was a perverse fear of actually being heard. Whatever her reasons, it was her nature. She turned her face deliberately from Thornpaw. She would not watch the direction she took. She was only interested in his approach.
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gale
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Post by gale on May 4, 2013 11:07:27 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:35px; width: 230px; height:350px; overflow:auto; float:right; margin-right:5px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] Thornpaw flashed his toxic smile at Minnowleap before he turned and headed towards the reeds. He paused just before them and reached out a paw delicately. Once the side of a growing reed stalk was underneath his paw pad, he moved it slowly downwards; bending it. The sound of the reed cracking echoed throughout the reed bed though outside in the sort of glade where Minnowleap still sat, it was a shorter, nearly staccato sound.
He would lose this challenge if he stuck strictly to the reeds. Thornpaw knew that there were too many growing stalks. It would be difficult for him to balance his attention on his mentor while avoiding stepping on them. If he could somehow get his mentor to move, then perhaps he'd have a chance. She was young, but she was far more experienced in this exercise. After all, she had done it during her own apprenticeship. Briefly, he wondered if she had successful completely this task or she had lost like he knew that he would.
Without saying anything more, Thornpaw went straight into the reeds. They would offer him a form of shelter to a degree since his mottled coat would blend in. However, the reeds weren't completely dense in all areas; he would easily be spotted by his mentor if he didn't continuously move.
Continuing to walk as quietly as he possibly could, the apprentice's paw sank into some dark brown mud. It was a hole in the earth of sorts and it dragged him to his chin in it. A flash of inspiration kicked it at that moment. Wadding into the mud as carefully as he could, Thornpaw's body--up to his back--became coated in the thick substance. Certain that the amount was enough, he came out the way that he went in and rolled near the edge to reach his back. The mud was a perfect camouflage in the reed bed. Perhaps it would assist him here.
His green eyes scanned the area for a place where he would be able to stop for a moment and listen to the sounds surrounding him. Just to the right of him, a place were the reeds were thicker existed. Without delay, he headed straight for it. Nestling himself on the outside of his chosen hiding place, Thornpaw closed his green eyes and fell back to his other senses.
A breeze caressed his face and therefore told him that he was upwind. If he was lucky, the mud that coated his body would hide his scent. Say the opposite, then his scent may leak through in a small amount. As well he couldn't smell any cat. So far, he heard only the sounds of prey around him. No heavier paw steps that could belong to a cat. Rather than move already, he stayed where he was and kept his eyes closed to give his other senses a chance at bettering themselves.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on May 6, 2013 19:22:01 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:55px; width: 270px; height:290px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:45px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:5px] The long pauses, the silences that seemed to stretch forever, they were beginning to get to Minnowleap. Every time she thought she might finally catch him, lure him into revealing something, he escaped just as easily as if no trap had been set. He just looked at her, with those green eyes that made her feel like her blood was slowly freezing as it flowed through her veins. She felt like every small movement was under scrutiny. Being a cat body language meant a lot. She knew that every movement she made had a meaning. But this was different. This wasn’t communication. This was observation, detailed and precise in a way that made her pelt prickle. She wondered what he was thinking, his mind was elusive - that much had already become clear.
What was he finding in her? What did the flick of her tail and the twitch of her ears mean to him? She wasn’t sure why she cared, but had a burning desire to know just what he was thinking. There was something he knew that she didn’t. She felt almost inferior in a way, as if he was judging her. He wasn’t just watching her, he was judging her. She didn’t know what she was being judged upon, but in a way she felt like she was failing. He was giving her a test, a test that meant everything and nothing at the same time. And she was almost certain she was failing pathetically. She didn’t want to be a failure in his eyes, she already saw herself that way. She couldn’t help thinking that had Peregrinecry’s been in her position, she wouldn't have failed Thornpaw's intangible tests.
Minnowleap watched his eyes darken to a deep pine green. It was eery, adding to his mystery. His aura of intensity was maintained as if it was nothing at all. He hadn't made any kind of reply to her comment about the parameters of their little experiment. Somehow, she hadn’t expected one. If it had been another apprentice, there would have been conversation. It would have been easy, like breathing, so natural. With Thornpaw, it was like every word was a struggle. She had to say just the right thing in just the right way. Then again, she wasn't sure what the consequences were of saying the wrong thing. He would what, leave? Would she mind that?
She didnt want to answer her own question.
Her eyes fluttered closed. She forced herself to focus solely on the task at hand. His scent had faded. Her ears swiveled, searching for even the most minute of sounds – a heavy fall of paws. But there was nothing. He appeared to have vanished, into thin air. She searched deeper, almost frantic. She began to regret her moment of bravery, the thought she could handle such a thing. Any moment she felt he would spring at her, pine her down, fangs at her throat. What had she done?
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