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Post by flyaway on Jan 24, 2013 15:16:57 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,5,true][atrb=style, background-color:#d7d8c5; padding:10px; height:400px] [STYLE=padding-top:10px; background-color:#d7d8c5; width:350px; border-bottom:8px solid #54524e; font-size:18px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:-2px; text-align:center; line-height:14px; color:54524e;]SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND CLOSE THE DOOR[/style] [STYLE=background-color:#e4e6d1; width:338px; height:300px; font-size:10px; border:1px dotted #54524e; text-align:justify; padding:5px; overflow:auto; font-family:arial; color:#54524e]Cricketsong's tail lashed behind her. Her gaze was dangeorusly narrow, her features stormy. Her ears flicked back and forth, folding against her skull on occasion. But behind her outward anger was a pang of hurt. As hard as she had tried to ignore them, Lilygrace's words from the Gathering had stung. And it seemed as if the harder she worked to push them away, the more determined they were to stick at the forefront of her mind. She could hear them now, echoing in her memory. "Honestly, have you no respect for your own dignity? What kind of dignified warrior would disgrace her Clan..." The words had shocked her to her core, causing her to near muteness. There was nothing more important to her than her dignity, nothing more important than respect. It was respect that she had been trying to earn, respect and some semblance of maturity. But wasn't she just the perfect scapegoat? Her gaze turned bitter. She paused suddenly on her walk, her claws unsheathing as she swiped at a stray leaf. It shredded in two at her strike, but didn't lessen her frustration. It was too easy to blame her, she knew it. She was irritable, a loner, solitary. For this she was judged. They spoke of her as "the other sister". The sister that was beautiful like Pearlfrost, but too consumed by anger to be anything but a thorn in the clan's side. And that's what she was, wasn't she? She was consumed by anger. And no one had ever bothered to ask her, no one bothered to wonder what she was angry about. No one asked why she jumped at the lightest brush. No one asked why the site of youth so disgusted her. She wasn't even sure if she wanted them to ask. Could she explain it, if questioned? She highly doubted so. She couldn’t even form a coherent string of thoughts for herself. She had suffered no great tragedy, no horrible loss. Her heart had never been broken. What reason did she have to be irritable, to be a loner? What right did she have to reject company? And that was the core of it all. She was an abnormality. She had no excuse to give, no reason to justify her solitude. But her actions, they didn’t fit. She didn’t act like a clanner, she didn’t think like a clanner. Feeble things tied her to this clan identity, her mother, her birth, her name. These things branded her, whether she desired to be so or not. The thought had entered her mind, on occasion and with growing frequency. What if, what if she just left? She could vanish. She knew she could. They would all wake one morning, and it would be as if she had never been. She would leave behind no apprentice, no mentor, no lover, no kittens. All she would leave was a sister, who just might be relieved to see her go. She felt it, deep in her heart, she had not been born for this. She had not been born to sleep alongside others, to be a part of such a great family. And perhaps that was why her steps led her where they did. She soon found herself on a worn trail through the reeds. Soft dirt squelched through her toes. She could hear the quiet rumble of the river. She could just imagine slipping in, submerging herself. She imagined letting herself float, float down and down and down until every scent of clan had faded beyond recognition. She would recreate herself. She would name herself something more fitting, less beautiful. And she would dedicate her life to the single thing she had always desired above all else – the pursuit of truth, and knowledge in its most basic forms. The thought made her eyes somewhat distant. But this distance was broken all too quickly. She emerged onto the banks, her gaze immediately settling on a figure in the shallows. Water lapped at their fur, whoever they were. She seemed to have thus far gone unnoticed. She seated herself, at the very edge of the reeds, and simply watched. She watched with unveiled interest. Her ears twitched. She spoke in a voice that bordered on irritable, but settled somewhere between sarcasm and neutrality. She had seen that look, the feeling this cat was giving off. It was as familiar to her as any other – guilt and hurt. It was sad really, what a familiar expression it was. Not on herself, but on life in general.[/style] template made by oxymoron! of back to neverland | [STYLE=width:200px; height:200px; background-color:#d7d8c5; border-right:8px solid #54524e; padding:5px; float:left][/style] [STYLE=width:200px; background-color:#d7d8c5; border-right:8px solid #54524e; float:left; font-size:15px; font-family:georgia; color:#54524e; line-height:15px; letter-spacing:-2px; padding:5px]780 words with icepaw hum de dum! [/style] |
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Shells
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Post by Shells on Mar 4, 2013 19:55:06 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true] | [atrb=background,http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/2859/icemid.png] A leap here, a bound there. Fallen leaves crumbled beneath the apprentice’s small, white paws as he pounced through the reeds. Icepaw had always loved the trees that covered ThunderClan territory across the river from RiverClan. He had never climbed a tree before, but he bet it was the most amazing feeling in the world. He would be able to see the whole world from that high! Maybe he could even spy on the other Clans and tell Foxstar everything that he saw. He would surely become a warrior then. All of the other apprentices would be jealous because he would be a warrior before all of them, even though he was the youngest out of all of them. His mentor would be so proud of him and she would share a mouse with him on the first day that he was a warrior. Maybe he would be named after his mentor and get the warrior name Icesong. Or maybe he would get the warrior name Iceclaw because he was so brave and strong.
The rushing waters of the river snapped Icepaw back to reality. He was just an apprentice, and as far as he knew, he was the worst warrior out of all of the apprentices. He couldn’t do anything special, and worst yet, he was deathly afraid of the river. When he was a young kit, he had almost drowned in the dark and treacherous waters, but he had luckily been rescued by a warrior. Even at the time, Icepaw had felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and failure. He hadn’t quite understood why that was until he became an apprentice and was taught just how important the river was to his Clan. After all, the Clan was called RiverClan. With the realization of just how impairing his fear was, Icepaw had never been able to fully shake the feeling of failure and inadequacy.
Despite these feelings, Icepaw was a happy and social kitten. He loved to play with the other apprentices and practice his hunting on the stray leaves that tumbled across the camp. Although the young apprentice had not had his first training session yet, he knew that the time would arrive shortly, and he could feel the anticipation rumbling in his paws. Most of the time he spent his days playing with the other apprentices or bothering the warriors, asking them questions and trying to show them his skills. Once he actually got the deputy Grousefoot to watch him do a super awesome battling technique that he had come up with on his own. She had even muttered a compliment before hurrying off to continue her Clan duties. His mother had scolded him again for bothering the warriors while they were busy, but nothing could bring him down.
Oddly enough, Icepaw could never find his mentor anywhere. Cricketsong was always busy and never seemed to be around camp. The small, white apprentice was growing impatient and wanted to begin training right away. The other apprentices had already begun their training and they would always tell each other what they had learned and brag about how amazing it was. Even his sister had begun her training. It wasn’t fair! Icepaw wanted nothing more than to impress Cricketsong with one of his tricks and gain her approval and praise. Even if he couldn’t begin his training just yet, he would find his mentor and show her what he already knew how to do. Then she would see that he was ready to start his training to be a warrior.
Pausing his game of pursuit on the poor, crumpled leaf, Icepaw sat down to scratch his ear. His white fur was matted and tangled with dry mud and thistles, but he didn’t mind. He had often been teased for having such standout fur, and this way he blended into his surroundings a lot better. Maybe he would even be able to catch some prey now! Blue eyes darting around the area, Icepaw scanned the riverside for his mentor. He had tracked her scent out of the camp, but he had lost it near the river where everything smelled like water to him. A cold breeze picked up and another leaf scuttled across the ground in front of the white apprentice. Distracted for a moment, Icepaw pounced on the faded brown foliage, ripping it apart with his teeth like he would a real piece of prey.
Suddenly, his bright blue eyes fell across his mentor in the distance. She seemed to be watching something closely and seemed to be deep in thought. Icepaw wondered what she was thinking about. Maybe it was super secret Clan things or super awesome warrior things. Either way, he wasn’t just going to sit around and wait to find out. Leaping to his dirty paws, the small apprentice raced across the territory and stumbled clumsily next to Cricketsong. At first he thought that she hadn’t noticed him since she was so deep in thought, but he quickly realized that she had noticed him and probably had known he was there for a long time. Straightening up and holding his tail straight in the air, Icepaw mewed happily, “Hi, Cricketsong! When are we going to start training? The other apprentices have all begun their training, and if you think I’m not ready for training yet, I can prove you wrong!”
As he finished his sentence, Icepaw reared his butt in the air and leapt what must have been at least five hundred feet and then landed perfectly on a pebble—well, maybe he was a little off, but maybe she hadn’t noticed. Besides, his pounce had been so impressive that it didn’t even matter if he caught the pebble perfectly. His face beaming, Icepaw turned to look at his mentor, awaiting her response.
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