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Post by pit on Feb 3, 2013 21:23:18 GMT -5
Jaywing
She'd gone and done it again. The medicine cat of WindClan had been known to pluck out a warrior for a stroll through the night. She would say she needed them for herb gathering, but she was sure they'd caught on by now. The pale grey she-cat used this one-on-one time to worm her way through their thoughts, to get into their heads. Some squirm under her prodding gaze and others end up spilling their worries to her. Honestly, she was fine with either one. She just wanted a reaction. With a reaction, she could read how they felt through the direction that their eyes flick or even the bunching of muscles in their shoulders. Sometimes, body language gave her more answers than words did.
But tonight wasn't just anyone the medicine cat had picked out. He, in fact, had to be the fluffiest of the Clan. At least Jaywing thought so. He also had to have the most on his mind. She was sure of it. She knew where his thoughts were, in fact. He had been through a lot, recently and in the past, so yes, of course there was a lot on his mind. Sometimes he shared these things with her, and those were moments that touched her. Because he hadn't needed to tell her these things. Really, it was his life, not hers. He had told her because he wanted to, and that's what she likes about him. He trusts her.
And he better, because said fluffy tom was Lynxstar.
And what is a Clan without strong bonds of leaders and medicine cats? Not much of a united Clan, if Jaywing says so herself. Clans are built upon trust and family. And sure, not everyone enjoyed each other, but that still held true for families. Not really mine, she thought. Fognose immediately flashed through her mind. She loved him very much, and she knew he returned the feeling. Just thinking of him made her feel warm.
But that was not why she'd brought Lynxstar out here tonight. No, tonight she'd prod his mind. Her clear blue gaze lifted to the stream of stars overhead. Often she wondered which one of those twinkling lights were Brightpaw. Briefly, she wondered if the bulky tom beside her thought about it as well. Surely he did. She knew the death of his son took a major toll on him. She knew.
Jaywing continued to lead him around the territory in a slow pace. There was only a slight breeze tonight, and for that she was thankful. Talking about personal stuff really wasn't something she wanted to yell over the wind about. As she flanked Lynxstar, she huffed out a quiet breath and glanced over to the large, fluffy tom.
"I can feel your mind reeling from over here, Lynxstar," the grey she-cat murmured. He can begin talking when he felt like it. She knew one question he was going to ask about tonight, so she decided to answer it. Before she did, though, the Outlook Rock came into view. Shrugging, she lept upon the monstrosity, gazing down at the WindClan leader until he chose to join her. Jaywing turned her gaze back to Silverpelt.
"Before you ask, I have not gotten any sign. Nothing at all. No tips, no words of wisdom, no guidance from our ancestors."
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 3, 2013 23:33:23 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] The snow was soft under his paws. It 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 welcomed it. He couldn’t say the same for his companion. She didn’t have the build he had, or the thick coat to protect her. But she seemed content enough. He shot her a glance. Compared to himself, she was downright petite. She had a pleasant youthful appearance, a youth he had long since lost. It had been sucked out of him, along with Tanglepaw’s spirit. He’d never quite understood her propensity for wandering about in the middle of the night. She said something about it being a good time for gathering herbs. In his own opinion, it was a much better time for sleep, for well-deserved and often too-short rest. But he could never deny her. There was something about the smile. In a way, despite the necessary professional relationship they had, he’d always seen her as something of a niece, or perhaps a younger sister. He held a good deal of affection for her, and found he could rarely keep from giving in to her whims.
Not that she was an overly whimsical individual. She was the Medicine Cat, and she understood the importance her position held. She’d been trained well, and was wiser than her youthful features might have suggested. She had many times counseled him on matters too expansive for his own mind to handle alone. Somewhat guiltily, he admitted to himself that he sought her council more often than he did his deputy’s. His ears flicked back, but he remained silent. Every spare moment his mind wasn’t concentrated on his clan was a moment it was free to drift to Froststar. And that was a place forbidden to him now. He swallowed a sigh, forcing himself to push away pictures of his little marionette. She wasn’t so little now, and she wasn’t his anything. They’d had to make that clear. She could never be his anything. But he was drawn from his thoughts by Jaywing’s quiet words. He paused, watching as she moved to the edge of Outlook Rock. After a moment he nodded and smiled with a tired ruefulness. “You’ve always been too sensitive to my perturbances.” He rumbled the words quietly.
He moved to join her, sitting at the very edge. His tail curled around his paws as he stared out across the moors. The waving grass was silver in the moonlight. He could have sworn, as he did each time he looked at those grasses, that he could hear Tanglepaw’s laughter echoing. But of course the little tom wasn’t there. Instead Lynxstar frowned, focusing on Jaywing’s words instead of his son’s dying joy. “Their silence shakes me more than I care to admit.” He shook his head, his lips pressing together in a thin line. There was tension between the clans. It was palpable. He feared war any day, a single wrong step could bring peace crumbling around them. And he couldn’t help the feeling that somehow, his affair, his foolish forbidden tryst, was the root of it all. Then again, in many ways, it was.
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Post by pit on Feb 5, 2013 16:05:45 GMT -5
Jaywing
“You’ve always been too sensitive to my perturbances.” Lynxstar's smooth, deep baritone of a voice declares. His tone was not as teasing as the grin on his maw was. Her blue gaze glimmered back in response before they flicked back over the scenery. That was one thing she quite liked about being a WindClan cat; you could see for miles. See the snow-dappled trees that littered the border in the distance, see the gently rolling hills and dips, see the tall grasses sway with each blast of wind. Really, you couldn't see this anywhere else. Jaywing had always looked at it as a sort of gift.
Blinking, the medicine cat felt a cold sting on her nose as an especially large clump of snowflakes land on it. The freezing feeling felt like it spread from her nose, through her veins, and settled at the tips of her claws. Jaywing shook her head to brush it off, but it had already melted into a drop that hung from her nose. With a swipe of her tongue it was gone.
The slim grey she-cat turned her head to look at the large tom whom had just settled in beside her. She wouldn't say it, but she was thankful for him sitting there. He was a great windshield if she did say so herself. Inwardly she smirked, but sobered up as he expressed his distress to her about StarClan's silence. She had to agree. Staying quiet is the worse thing that could happen. Even worse than their ancestors being angry with them, for at least the Clans knew they were still there, still protecting them.
Jaywing turned her gaze to her paws, shifting on the cold rock uncomfortably. "I do not understand," she sighed. "Anger towards us would be one thing. Silence is another. Silence is not good, Lynxstar." She's never really experienced any complete quietness from StarClan. Jaywing turned her blue eyes to the sky with a searching gaze. What did they want? She didn't know. She wanted to, but she didn't. "What is not good, is accusing yourself. I know you are, because that's what leaders do, yes? They are responsible for the whole Clan, so automatically if anything goes wrong, the Clan looks to you." Jaywing turned her head towards the cat sitting next to her; the one she cared deeply about. "This is not your fault. You cannot control StarClan. I cannot control them. Do not put this weight on your shoulders." The medicine cat's gaze lingered only for a little bit longer before returning to the territory.
"If it helps, I do not think they have completely abandoned us," She murmured. Her face became stony. "I think I would feel it if they had. Maybe I am wrong," Jaywing shrugged. "I just have this feeling in my belly."
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 5, 2013 18:16:58 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] He remembered the first dream he had received from Starclan. It had been during his ceremony, when he had received his lives. And he remembered it for one, singular, reason. It had come from Tanglepaw. His beloved son had been dead for nearly thirty moons. And every night since his death, Lynxstar had prayed to Starclan for forgiveness, for the spirit of his beloved son. And until that night, they had remained silent. A smile floated onto his lips as the memory washed over him. The scars, the clumps of torn fur, his shredded face, had been gone. Tanglepaw had been perfect, a tiny version of his father, but he had shone. He had been excited, full of energy as he had been in life. Lynxstar had spent the entire dream in tears. He’d barely been able to listen to his son, so consumed was he in simply taking in the sight, of knowing forgiveness was finally his to be had. And every dream since had been delivered by Tanglepaw. He went to sleep each night with the hopes of a visit. And in the moons of late, each morning he had woken with the heavy weight of disappointment on his shoulders. And a fear had begun to creep into his soul. He feared his transgressions, his relationship of Froststar, had caused this silence. He feared he had disgraced his son, earned the disgust and hatred of the only cat who truly mattered.
He couldn’t bring himself to voice this fear. He had never officially confessed. He had never told a soul of his relationship, of his love, for Froststar. Though he supposed, if he was going to tell, Jaywing would hear his confession. And hearing her words, her lack of understanding, her fear, the words surged in his throat. He cleared his throat, fearing Jaywing’s horror, her disgust, even worse – her disappointment, or an affirmation of his sins and fears. He licked his lips, speaking quietly. “I suspect I know their reason for silence.” His ears flicked back against his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel shame. He couldn’t bring himself to regret his relationship with Froststar. “In this case, I fear you are wrong. I fear I truly am to blame.” His shoulders sagged. He stared out across the waving grass. He couldn’t look Jaywing in his eye. He heaved a sigh, drawing in a breath as the truth finally forced itself through his lips. “I have broken the warrior code, Jaywing. I have broken the word of our ancestors, their sacred laws.” He paused, he needed to force those final words out. But he couldn’t. They lurked on his lips, on his tongue. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. He couldn’t bring himself to say those final words – that final truth that would lay his guilt before the world.
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Post by pit on Feb 6, 2013 19:58:16 GMT -5
Jaywing
The pale she-cat could almost see the thoughts flicker across Lynxstar's face. She had a feeling she knew what was racing through his mind. Jaywing knew he spent a lot of time consumed with his dead son. The medicine cat never called him out on it, because she thought he needed it. Tanglepaw had shaped who this large cat had become, and he needed to be reminded of his beloved kin. Without Tanglepaw, there is not Lynxstar. But the fluffy tom's expression changed, just minutely, just enough for her to catch, when she mentioned to him about the silence of the stars. That was when she knew something else was up. She then focused her blue eyes on Lynxstar and did not look away.
“I suspect I know their reason for silence,” murmured the leader. Jaywing could clearly see the struggle in his features. He didn't necessarily want to tell her this, whatever 'this' was. She could understand. Some things are better kept in the shadows. Other things, well, they will thrive in the darkness and overtake oneself. One must be careful with secrets, for they easily spiral out of control. But the medicine cat was humbled that he was able to share this obvious burden with her. She just wondered what he could possibly be keeping to himself. “In this case, I fear you are wrong. I fear I truly am to blame.” She wanted to butt in--she actually had her jaws open in protest--but she regained composure and let him continue. He needed to speak.
“I have broken the warrior code, Jaywing. I have broken the word of our ancestors, their sacred laws.” Lynxstar's voice was strained, she she searched his face when he spoke the words. Jaywing wanted him to look at her. But clearly it was too difficult. What did he mean? Was it bad enough to make the ancestors grow silent? She was quiet for a moment before it hit her like she'd just run into a tree. He'd never actually spoken to her about it, but she suspected he knew she had suspicions. The heavy glances? The distraction? Jaywing knew about his family's past, but it had been a few moons now and there had been not even a spark that signaled a new relationship with a she-cat in the Clan.
But that was the key. In the Clan. Jaywing dropped her gaze from his face and focused on the glittering objects above. Was it love? Were StarClan going silent because of love? Forbidden love, sure. She thought back to her mentor. Brackenheart had always told her that cat's couldn't choose whom they fell for. (That was probably because he was in love with the medicine cat from RiverClan at the time, but she had never corrected him.) The slight she-cat let out a small sigh. She supposed she should be a bit angry with him, but she couldn't bring herself to be so. He'd had so much trouble in the love department, from his son to she-cats. Secretly, she was happy that he had found someone. If only they could be in the same Clan. Jaywing flexed her toes and scooted towards him until her shoulder was brushing his.
"I suppose I should have an angry lecture for you, but I do not." She hung her head slightly, gazing at her paws. "I could tell you that you should not have done it. That you should not have fallen so hard. But that would not change anything." Jaywing let her eyes close against the chilly wind. "I do not know that, even if I had told you before, that you would have listened to me. The heart can be persistent." She squeezed her eyes shut harder and then opened her eyes to look at him. "But do you really--" she paused. "In your heart, that big heart you've got, do you think that is the reason? For silence? Over love?" Jaywing shook her head. "It is a complicated thing. But I do not thing they should stop communicating because of it."
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 7, 2013 19:19:44 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] He couldn’t give a specific reason, a point in time, any logical conclusion, as to why he trusted Jaywing. It was an instinct, an automatic sort of thing. There was a serenity about her, a certain sense of wisdom and control despite her relatively few moons. In comparison, he was nearly twice her age. It made him smile, truly it did. It was a strange thing, to look at another and realize the bountiful moons that separated you. When Jaywing had been born, a mewling blind and deaf kitten, he had already been past his thirtieth moon. Yet here they were, further in life than could have been predicted. It was this trust, this sense of security, that made him loathe to speak of his indiscretions. Since Tanglepaw’s death, and his separation from Mintdapple, he’d been fairly solitary. He was social enough, well liked. Even in his younger years, his large form and thick fur had given him an air of age – of experience. He’d been sought on many occasions for advice. Other warriors had teasingly called him the grandfather of Windclan. And in many ways it was. Others trusted him, came to him, even if the feeling wasn’t necessarily mutual. It wasn’t that Lynxstar distrusted his clan, but rather that he was a private soul.
But Jaywing, she was a creature all her own. There was a gentleness to her. While they weren’t lovers, or anything of the sort, she was something closer than a friend. She was a sister, a niece, someone near and dear to him. Yet they weren’t conversational. He didn’t spill his heart to her. Yet she knew him. She understood him. And in a similar way, he understood her. It was an unspoken thing. And so, in truth, besides Froststar – he had confided in no one. He spoke little of personal matters. The very words, hanging on the tip of his tongue, felt rusty – precarious and wrong. He doubted Jaywing would turn against him, would revile him. Yet he couldn’t help but fear it. If he lost her, then he was truly alone. He saw her eyes drop, an inkling of understanding seeping into her gaze. She knew his words, she could see them on his tongue. This was their relationship. She understood him, without him having to explain, without him having to endure the pain of what he had done – and admit his absolute lack of repentance. If he had the choice, he would do it all again. He listened to her sage words, his ears flicking back against his skull.
“In your heart, that big heart you’ve got, do you think that is the reason? For silence? Over love?”
And that was the crux of it all. Because he did believe he was to blame. He looked away. He knew Jaywing’s gaze lingered on him. He could feel her eyes searching his face, cajoling his own eyes to meet hers. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t turn his face from the moors. Far in the distance, on a small lone hill, he could see a boulder that jutted up at a precarious angle. It was here that, as per his request, the elders had buried Tanglepaw. The little tom’s tiny bones lay beneath that boulder. Sometimes, when Lynxstar stood over them, he could still smell his fresh oak scent. He pushed this thought away, tearing his gaze from that boulder as he answered. “Their anger has been aroused over much less.” His voice was a murmur, though he knew she would hear him. He shook his head, heaving a sigh. “This is greater than you realize. I’m not a foolish apprentice, a young warrior in the grips of fantasies –“ He paused, his voice breaking slightly. “And neither is she.” Because it wasn’t his sins alone. They were Froststar’s too. This wasn’t the transgression of one leader, of one deputy, but of two. And somehow, that was much worse. Somehow, that made love into a sin, into something that tasted acidic on the tongue, burned holes in the heart.
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Post by pit on Feb 11, 2013 16:20:49 GMT -5
Jaywing
“Their anger has been aroused over much less.” She agreed wholeheartedly to that statement, because it was true. She didn't take pleasure out of complaining about their ancestors, if she did, she wouldn't be where she is now. She wouldn't be a medicine cat, the sole connection to StarClan for her own Clan. Jaywing wouldn't have started off as Jaykit, the odd one of the trio. Brightkit had always squealed about how she'd one day lead the mighty WindClan. And, of course, she'd promised Jaykit that she could be her deputy. Fogkit had let out a huff of protest, but it was half-hearted. He'd always been such a good kit. Very kind.
She still remembers when she had suddenly and nervously blurted out to her chatting siblings that she didn't want to be a deputy, she didn't even want to be a warrior. Jaykit wanted to be a medicine cat. The little, pale gray she-cat had squeezed her blue eyes shut as she spurted the words out of her mouth. She wasn't even sure that they'd heard her, they both had been talking when she spoke. But the ringing silence that had entered her ears, and it was not welcome. She could feel their surprised and curious eyes on her face, but her eyes remained shut. Her little heart had pounded so fast, so loud in her ears. Jaykit was about to run away sobbing, because she thought they were mad at her. Because she was different, because she wouldn't get to train with them, because they had their warrior future planned for all three of them! So when Brightkit had pounced on her with a giggle on her lips and Fogkit shouted 'awesome!', she felt happy. Jaykit let her anxieties wash away. But then it had Brightkit babbling again, about them being a leader and medicine cat duo, and Fogkit could be the deputy now!
A warm wave of affection shot through her veins. She loved both of them dearly. Jaywing couldn't really believe that she would think that they wouldn't accept her dream, even if it were different from their own. A shiver crawled up her spine as the bitter wind brushed past her. If Lynxstar's relationship with Froststar was the cause of this elongated silence, well, she could not do anything. He was in love, and so was she, and nothing can really stop that, right? Certainly not she. And even if she could, if she had the chance, she doesn't know if she would. Because after everything he's lost, everything he's endured, he deserves to be happy. And she makes him happy.
She briefly entertains the thought that this all was just one vicious circle.
“This is greater than you realize. I’m not a foolish apprentice, a young warrior in the grips of fantasies –“ His voice broke then, and she could almost feel the strong emotion that clogged his airways. Her ears flicked back against her skull and she sat quietly for him to continue. “And neither is she.” Jaywing nodded shortly. Another gust of cold breeze pushed against her chest, and she felt the air leave her lungs. She wondered if StarClan could control the weather, because right now, she's feeling their sting.
Jaywing turned her head to Lynxstar. She felt for him. His happiness comes at a cost. The slim medicine cat pushed her pink nose gently into his shoulder before angling her face back to him. "If that is so, I do not know what to do. They are being stubborn." A cloud of breath swirled around her muzzle. "I do not know when, or if, they will send some kind of sign of what is to come. But I do know, if I receive one, you will be the first to know."
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 13, 2013 21:24:24 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] He had searched for meaning, then for blame. He had searched, as guilty as it had made him feel, for something to fill that space. He had searched in his apprentices, in the kittens that passed through the Nursery, in anyone who looked towards him with something akin to admiration. On more than one occasion he had heard hasty pawsteps, excited exclamations, and whirled expecting to find his son eager to tell him about the day’s activities. But he never did, and eventually he stopped looking. Eventually he stopped blaming, stopped trying to find justification for his loss. Eventually, he put it all away in a special place, somewhere to be brought out and mourned over in private. And slowly, the ache had diminished. When he looked at apprentices now, it no longer made him regret. He no longer, in the deepest recesses of his mind, asked Starclan why they hadn’t taken someone else instead. He shifted, grief making a quiet appearance on his features, as these thoughts were brought to the surface. He turned his head, looking at Jaywing directly for the first time in many minutes. He watched her quietly, his eyes tracing her features and the deep lines of exhaustion.
Tanglekit sat in a circle of small kittens, a tom and two she-cats. He was clearly in control, though no bigger than any other kitten there. He was lecturing, setting out the rules of the game quite clearly. They were brave warriors of Lionclan, they would fight off anything that came their way – dogs the size of the high rock would be nothing for their might. One of the kittens piped up a question.“Who’s gonna be the leader?” Lynxchaser had expected his son to snort, and declare himself their brave leader. But instead he stared at the kitten incredulously before declaring in a high squeaky voice. “My dad! He’s the bravest.” The other kittens had agreed. After which he had declared himself the deputy, looking to his father.“Tanglechaser and Lynxstar right Dad?”Lynxchaser had only purred, finally giving a nod of assent.
The memory faded away. They should have been together. He was Lynxstar, as Tanglekit had predicted so many moons ago – more than Lynxstar could even count anymore. Tanglekit had never become Tanglechaser. A sudden bile rose in his throat. Everything felt suddenly wrong. He shouldn’t be leader, he shouldn’t be Lynxstar – not if he couldn’t have his Tanglechaser with him.
He was drawn from his grief by the gentle press of Jaywing’s nose. He looked at her, slightly startled. There was an agedness to him as he watched her. Yet he sought comfort from her. He could almost feel her strength flowing in to him through the light cold touch of her little pink nose. He drew in a breath. The frigid air stung his lungs, but he kept on sucking, kept on breathing. It was refreshing, forced him to live. He smiled, though there was a grimness to it. He nodded along with her words, tilting his head towards the stars. They couldn’t remain silent forever. He snorted, “You and I,” he shook his head and let out a curt chuckle, “well you at least, are far too young to carry so heavy a burden.”
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Post by pit on Feb 22, 2013 10:15:29 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 375px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:1px;] Dark gray paws kneaded the ground as she listened to his deep voice rumble out a few sentences. A small smile broke across her face as he told her she was too young to carry such a burden. Jaywing opened her jaws, huffing out a quiet breath. "I am to be forty moons soon, Lynxstar. I am afraid I'm not as youthful as you bring me out to be," she murmured, but the smile never left her lips. She shrugged, and moved to the more serious side of his comments. Jaywing turned her body towards him. She wanted him to know she meant what she said, and she knew he would. "I would not have taken up the position of medicine cat if I could not handle what is thrown at me," she purred quietly. Jaywing realized what they might sound like and quickly corrected herself. "I know you are not doubting me, Lynstar. I just mean, I am ready for it. Whatever our ancestors toss at me, or don't toss at us, in this case, I can handle it." The gray cat grinned widely. "Plus, I've got you. You, the mighty leader of WindClan. You have very good judgement, and I can truthfully say that I think of you when I do not know what to do." Her eyes squinted a bit, and flicked up to the sky.
The stars were still shining, like ever, but they seemed distant. Not as vibrant, not as brilliant. But perhaps it was just her. Jaywing had always thought you could see the strong bond of StarClan with the four Clans here by the way the night sky looked. Usually, it was bright and shining and glittering happily above their heads. It was not like that now. Her ears flicked back a little, and she looked back at the fluffy tom beside her. Jaywing was about to say something when an especially cold gust of wind hit her in the face. She yelped out of surprise and the freezing air seemed to seek through her skin and into her bloodstream. If it were possible for blood to turn to ice, then she was sure that had happened. Jaywing shot a glare in no particular direction, but it was directed at the wind. It seemed to be messing with her today.
A thought hit her like she had just ran right into a big oak tree. It ran in circles in her mind and quickly made its way to the rest of her body. Jaywing tightened her tail around her cold, small paws and blinked quickly. What would Brightpaw look like, now? She shifted slightly on the icy rock. Sucking in a cold breath, she held it in until she couldn't anymore, and huffed it out. The medicine cat glanced at Lynxstar before opening her mouth in question. "Do you ever think of what Tanglepaw would look like, now?" She knew the answer, because she knew how often the tom's thoughts shifted to his beloved son. She wasn't trying to prod into things that were not her business, but she wanted to know. Wanted to make sure she wasn't the only one.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 22, 2013 15:22:29 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] Lynxstar chuckled, the sound turning into a genuine laugh. He turned a wry smile in her direction. To him, staring his seventieth moon in the face, forty moons was nothing. She had eons, moons, entire lives ahead of her. While he too had many lives, eight left to live, he had become sure that age would take him before he used his lives. It was likely the day would come when he would retire, give up his name and his lives, allow a young deputy to succeed him. But that day had not yet come. And in the back of his mind, he hoped it was long in coming. Mortality was a terrifying thing to face. He purred, his voice heavy with amusement and affection for his Medicine Cat friend. “You may speak to me of age when you begin staring your seventieth moon in the face.” He flicked his tail towards his muzzle, indicating where light strands of silver had begun to show amongst the brilliant browns of his long tabby fur. “You are not a child, no, but you are certainly not old, my dear.” And unlike some, unlike many, Jaywing would never become a grandparent – would never see kits of her kits run through her paws. It was the cross of those closest to Starclan to bear. But then again, neither would Lynxstar. That possibility had died with Tanglepaw. It had been revived, so very shortly, with Froststar, but died again as the nine lives of leadership had flooded into her veins.
Lynxstar’s legs had a dull sort of ache to them. Exhaustion weighed on him. After all, night had fallen. But he wasn’t anxious to return to his nest. He lowered himself to the ground, tucking his paws comfortably beneath him. He would return to his nest, to his clan, long before morning came. But some nights he preferred to spend out here, on the rocky outcroppings, looking over all that life had given him. He turned his head as Jaywing spoke again. A pang of grief and pain passed through his eyes, though dulled and ebbed away. He heaved a sigh, his eyes stinging. How often had he pictured his son, the warrior he could have been? Too many to count. His tail flicked back and forth, he spoke quietly, his voice thick with memory. “He had his mother’s grace, patches of white and silver. Though my build, my long fur and dark markings had always won out.” He smiled slightly, remembering how Tanglepaw had run about. “I imagine he would have grown into a strong young warrior, broad like me, though with his mother’s dainty lithe Windclan form.” He looked to Jaywing suddenly. Tanglepaw had died thirty moons ago, when Jaywing would have been a young apprentice.
He spoke quietly. “Though I suspect you remember him, if only faintly.” Tanglepaw had always spoken highly of young Jaypaw. He’d suspected that his son had a romantic sort of affection for the young she-cat, before she had chosen the life of a Medicine Cat. It was his son’s affections that had led Lynxstar to be so fond of Jaypaw. In the beginning, those first moons after the loss of his son, Jaywing had been a fragile connection to what had been.
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Post by pit on Feb 22, 2013 16:05:05 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 375px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:1px;] Her quiet laugh mingled with his as he spoke of old age. "Aw, do not feel old, my friend. You are not an elder just yet," Jaywing purred, affection tinging her voice. Her blue gaze flicked over Lynxstar and, for the first time tonight, twinkled with their usual happiness. She joined him when he decided to lay down, and she sighed with relief as the cold pressure was taken off her paw pads. She tucked her limbs in as close to her as they would go. Oh, what she wouldn't give to have a pelt like Lynxstar's right now! A shiver ran down her spine, but she shrugged it away. She enjoyed her time with her friend, and she was not going to let a bit of cold weather take this away from her.
Jaywing's eyes searched his profile as his mood swung in another direction. A brief flash of guilt colored her gaze. She didn't want to hurt him, and she was about to tell him he didn't have to answer when he opened his powerful jaws to speak. "He had his mother's grace, patches of white and silver. Though my build, my long fur and dark markings had always won out." Her mind's eye formed a picture of the young apprentice. He had been one of her friends, she remembered vaguely. Jaywing then pictured him to be around her own age now, grown and mature, just like his father. A small smile crossed her lips at the thought of the two together now.
"Though I suspect you remember him, if only faintly." Jaywing flopped to her side, though still facing Lynxstar. Yes, she did remember him. As the cool temperature of the rock seeped into her flank, she let her eyes close and memories flood her. She'd just became apprentice, playing in the shade with Brightpaw while Fogpaw dozed off to the side.
"Jaypaw, you have to attack me! I'm the fierce ShadowClan leader!" Brightpaw squealed in her high-pitched voice. The little gray apprentice didn't really want to play with her hyperactive sister, but she hated seeing her sad. Jaypaw pushed herself off the ground where she lay, and turned to Brightpaw. "Fine, but you know I haven't trained like you," the medicine cat apprentice warned. Brightpaw had nodded, eager to get started and show Jaypaw what she'd learned today. Jaypaw's blue gaze studied her sister's movements before she sprung at her. Brightpaw had easily dodged it and pushed at her flank to tip her over. Jaypaw landed with an oof and Brightpaw grinned maniacally above her. "Haha! Success!" Her sister mocked gently. Jaypaw glared up at her before turning her head, only to spot Tanglepaw watching the both of them. Her cheeks had felt absurdly hot and she pushed her ears against her head. Brightpaw glanced at Tanglepaw and back to her sister, and a knowing smile had crossed her face. "What?!" Jaypaw fumbled, trying to get out of her sister's grip and proding eyes. Brightpaw had later stated that if Jaypaw ever had a crush on someone, she should tell her. The medicine cat apprentice had then scoffed and walked away with fidgety eyes.
An irrational heat rose up in her cheeks once again when her memory faded into nothingness. She cleared her throat and attempted to regain focus on Lynxstar. "Oh, yes. I remember him," Jaywing laughed lightly. "He would have made an exceptional warrior, just like his father."
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 22, 2013 22:05:03 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] Lynxstar grinned. No, he was not an elder yet, but a senior warrior by any standards. His ears twitched as he glanced to Jaywing, his eyes twinkling mischeviously. “And it will take a horde of you youngsters to force me into retirement.” He flicked her affectionately with his tail. He’d never been shy around the younger she-cat. After all, he would never behave inappropriately towards her. She was like a daughter to him. He was protective of her, fond. But no one had ever suspected anything more – quite simply because there wasn’t and would never be anything more. They didn’t have that kind of relationship, and never had.
And even as the grief passed his eyes, a certain light entered them too. Around camp, even around other clans, his beloved son had become a taboo subject. It was as if by not uttering his name, they could make him disappear – or perhaps lessen the pain of his loss. But to reminisce, to share memories of a young live they had both valued, was soothing for the older tom. It brought him joy. True there was pain, loneliness and regret – but there was love too. He cherished every story – hearing the stories others had. For though Lynxstar was Tanglepaw’s father, he hadn’t witnessed every moment of his son’s life – those little things, little games, conversations. And each new story, each new little tidbit, made the old tom happy. His eyes crinkled as he looked to Jaywing. Whether she could tell or not, her words had touched him, meant so much. He had always dreamed of the warrior his son had been. A purr rumbled in his throat as he looked to her. He spoke quieter now, his voice heavy in reminiscing memories. “He spoke so often and so fondly of you.”
A grin spread over his lips, a laugh in his throat. His tail flicked back and forth, eager to share a story. “On one occasion, I caught him preparing to eat yarrow,” Yarrow of course was widely known to cause vomiting when consumed, “it ended up that he’d wanted an excuse to go see you.” Lynxstar began to laugh, a genuine sound, his tail flicking eagerly back and forth. He looked to her, his eyes more alive than they had been in days. “He insisted you hadn’t noticed all the prey he was bringing to camp. And apparently just going to talk to you wasn’t manly.” He purred, the memory fading away. In the end of course, Lynxstar had convinced his son that making himself purposely ill was not the way to earn the attentions of a pretty young she-cat. Only a moon or so after that incident, both Jaywing and Lynxstar had attended the little tom’s vigil and burial. Lynxstar heaved a sigh, but it was one of contentment. His voice lowered slightly as he looked from his beloved moors back to Jaywing. She was the first, in more than a full cycle of seasons, to sit and speak with him. And perhaps he could return the favor. He started gently, a simple opening, a chance should she wish to speak. “He and Brightpaw were so similar, ambitious and eager, epitome of the vigor of youth.” He remembered Jaywing’s sister well. Though it was through a haze of his own grief. Brightpaw had died only a moon or so after Tanglepaw, and at the time Lynxstar had been far too encased in his own loss to truly register Brightpaw. But now, thirty moons later, the memories were ready and waiting for him.
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Post by pit on Feb 24, 2013 21:47:57 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 375px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:1px;] A content purr escaped the throat of the WindClan medicine cat. No one in their right mind would push Lynxstar into retiring to the elder's den. He might have to, one day, if he doesn't use up his blessed nine lives first. Jaywing personally hoped it never came to that, and the tom could have a peaceful rest of his life shared with his generation of warriors. A certain panic rushed through her veins when she thought about her beloved friend, and perhaps father figure, not being here with her. She attempted to calm her rapid heartbeat by laughing thoroughly at his joke.
Her blue eyes searched his crinkled face as bits and pieces of memories flowed through the large tom. She was glad that when she mentioned his dead son, there was a certain glow to his otherwise saddened gaze. She realized that yes, it was hard to lose a loved one and yes, it was even harder to bring them up afterwards, but they had brought you happiness then and still were able to do that now. Jaywing felt her pulse go back down to its original rhythm.
“He spoke so often and so fondly of you.”
That tid bit made her dark gray ears perk, and she pushed herself into an upright laying position. Her side had gotten used to her body heat on the rock, and she shivered a bit from the new coolness. But still, she watched his smile grow and and hers did as well. He recalled a story, one of yarrow, of Tanglepaw, and of manliness. It had Jaywing giggling before he even finished it, because it was all so absurd. She was to be a medicine cat, and both of the young apprentices knew that at the time. She was to lead a life without that certain someone that brought her up and made her smile, a life without soft little kittens weaving around her dark gray paws. Jaywing loved her sense of duty as a medicine cat, but on occasions, she stayed up at night, wondering of what could have been. As an apprentice, she often felt a certain guilt when glancing upon Tanglepaw because he brought out that feeling inside her belly that she was not supposed to have. His death was what made her sure that the medicine cat path was for her. Surely there was not a reason for a mate anymore?
Now, she does still wonder about a loving mate and kits, but she is sure of her position in her clan. Jaywing didn't need a mate and kits to keep her happy. Happiness was felt when she helped an apprentice get over a thorn to the paw pad, when she watched the panic mix with pride as a queen gives birth to her new litter, when Lynxstar smiles so easily, even when recalling stories of his son's youth. She glanced back at said cat with a smile on her lips.
"Oh, dear, of course I noticed all the prey he lugged in daily. I always made sure I picked from his kills. I swore they tasted better than the rest," her eyes glittered. "One day I went out on my own and tried to prove to myself that I could catch something," a loud laugh escaped her jaws. "Tanglepaw came across me and asked what in the world I was doing. I told him pointedly that I was going to catch a rabbit myself. I remember a little, sort of shy, smile was plastered on his face. That was when I knew I was doing it all wrong." Jaywing turned her eyes back to Lynxstar. "He spent almost an entire morning teaching me how to not make so much noise. I still failed miserably, but I chased a rabbit right into his claws." Pride rang through her voice at the small victory.
Her ears flicked back against her skull at the mention of Brightpaw. Jaywing knew their losses were different in many ways, but similar in many ways, too. She tilted her head a bit. "They were quite similar. Both were very lively and bright," she breathed. "They certainly knew how to cheer cats up." Jaywing kneaded the solid rock with her front paws. "I often think of her, too. She probably would have had a lovely mate right now and a litter of kits." She pictured the beautiful silver she-cat gently herding her kittens back into the nursery. "I think I would have treated them as my own."
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 25, 2013 13:39:52 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] As he sat, listening to the quiet sounds of the moors, he found himself falling deeper and deeper into his memories. Jaywing’s willingness to listen – and even further, her willingness to share – were plunging him into the joyous places he often avoided. For as much joy as they brought him, it was bittersweet. For it always reminded him of what he had lost. Looking out on the moors, listening to the almost silent swish as the grasses brushed against each other, Lynxstar was plunged into memory.
Lynxchaser was padding over a hill on the moors. His head and shoulders stood high above the waving grasses. He walked with strength, youthful vigor. He was well-muscled – a tom in his prime. A smile pulled at his lips as he turned and angled his eyes towards the ground. A long tail waved out of the grass at his side, though the rest of the body was concealed by the prairie’s grass. The tips of excitedly perked ears peeked out from the grass. Lynxchaser paused and rumbled a deep laugh as muffled words came from the grass. He shook his head, chuckling as he called out to the small shape at his side. “You’ll have to speak up son,” He paused his walking beside a large, seemingly misplaced, boulder. A second later, a little tom leapt up onto the rock, settling excitedly. Even perched on the boulder, he was still only at his father’s height. Little Tanglekit had just become Tanglepaw. His voice was high and squeaky when he spoke.
“I said, I could run really fast if there wasn’t all this grass in the way!” Lynxchaser laughed, shaking his head. He leaned in close, grinning at his son. Tanglepaw leaned forward excitedly, expecting some great secret to be shared between the two of them. He was nearly bouncing on his paws. Lynxchaser waited until his son was perched quite precariously, nearly tumbling off his stone. And with a gentle nudge, sent his only child flailing into the grass with a yelp. Lynxchaser boomed laughter and bounded a few steps away. An indignant and yowling Tanglepaw gave chase, their laughter the only thing echoing in the silent grasses.
The memory faded away, as memories were wont to do. But Lynstar tucked this precious memory away. It was one of the few threads that remained. He treated them as precious commodities. After all, no new memories would be made. Jaywing spoke again as the memory faded to black. His ears perked and he looked to her, his eyes crinkling even more at the edges. His tail swished with utter pleasure and gratitude. He laughed out loud, picturing his son’s pleasure and pride at getting to teach. He shook his head. “I remember and afternoon when he returned to camp unusually pleased with himself. He’d refused to tell me why, now I suspect I know.” He shook his head. “I know you were called to a duty, to a life devoted to Starclan.” He paused, choosing his words. “But even so, had he lived, I think he would have gone right on loving you, as I now love you as a daughter.” He flicked his tail out, gently resting on her paws. He had never been physically affectionate, not since Tanglepaw. But he did what he could.
He chuckled, remembering Brightpaw. Though most of his attention had been focused on his own son and youthful exploits – he remembered the young she-cat with vigor and life. He grinned ruefully at Jaywing. “I can’t imagine her ever settling down long enough to raise kittens,” He meant the comment lovingly of course. Brightpaw had been energetic, driven. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever assume to have known the young she-cat the way Jaywing had. He heaved a sigh, his gaze wandered again to the grasses. “There is a balance, between the life the moors give and the lives they take.” His gaze travelled upwards, towards Silverpelt and the distant hanging moon. At some point, a point he knew was drawing near, he would have to return to the camp. But perhaps, tonight, he would sleep easier. Perhaps he would rise rested, without that dull ache of loss. For it was Jaywing, her stories and smiles, that kept his son alive between them.
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Post by pit on Feb 25, 2013 21:59:14 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 375px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-left:1px;] “But even so, had he lived, I think he would have gone right on loving you, as I now love you as a daughter.” A rare warmth spread from her belly to her toes, up to the tip of her nose. She could not recall a simple statement that had affected her as much as this one. Jaywing let a small smile cross her lips as she quietly reflected on such a packed sentence. Of course she had felt close to Lynxstar, especially after Tanglepaw's death. At the time, though, she could not fathom the loss of a son. She knew even as an apprentice, when she laid sprawled out in the bright beams of sunlight with Tanglepaw quietly chatting about everything and nothing, that father and son had a special bond. Of course kin usually have a tight knit relationship, but these two seemed to share something more.
She especially remembered a time when Brackenheart had let her off the hook of herb gathering one day and decided to spend the afternoon with Lynxstar's son. Tanglepaw had been stretched out, with his head on his paws, quietly dozing. Jaypaw had plopped down next to him, looking at him expectantly. She saw pride glitter in his eyes as he began spilling stories of his father's great accomplishments and moments that the father and son had shared. She hadn't known why he decided to tell her, but she was grateful. Jaypaw had always respected the well-liked warrior, but this was when respect shifted to awe. And to hear, seasons later, that he thought of her as something as sacred as a daughter touched her more than she would ever be able to form into words.
So she stayed fairly quiet except for the content purr that ripped from her jaws at Lynxstar's words. It quickly morphs into a laugh as he makes a quip about Brightpaw. She had to agree, though, it seemed as though her sister might have stayed in her own forever-young land. It was not that she was immature, she just had such a positive outlook on everything. It was something Jaywing admired about her. Growing up too fast was not something that was necessarily fun, and Brightpaw seemed to sense that. She wanted to embrace her youth and happiness and creativity. "I have to agree that she might have been the craziest mother ever to walk the forest," Jaywing purred.
“There is a balance, between the life the moors give and the lives they take.”
The medicine cat slowly nodded her head. "It is unfortunate, the ones they do take." Her blue eyes flicked to the ever-brightening sky. "I would gladly have taken Brightpaw's place if I could change anything. She had so much compassion and I regret that we have to live in a world without it." Jaywing sighed, a cloud of breath spinning around her nose. "And to live without Tanglepaw's love. I am sure he would have grown into such a fine cat. He would have made you very proud." Her clouded eyes searched the skies. The already dull stars are silently fading, and she knows dawn is just around the corner.
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