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Post by Sharkfang on Sept 3, 2018 15:30:28 GMT -5
The day seemed to drag on. There was no telling when it was night or when it was day except for the chill that numbed their bones, even more so than before. That was the only sign that told them the sun had gone down. But during that time, they would not stop walking. If they did, they would all die of hypothermia or frostbite. The clan cats couldn't lose another valuable life, so they continued to march on.
The blind tabby pressed his large, grayed paws into the snow, immune and unaware to the numbing cold. His this fur hung at his neck, draping down from his stomach, and white snow flecks stuck to his fur and made him look ancient. The tom flicked a torn ear at the sound of a small cry.
A kitten cried out for food but only got a stern, quieting reply. Their mother had died off, and their caretaker had no milk to provide for it. The queens were starving and that wasn't doing any good for the kittens. The warriors were doing their best to stay strong. And it felt like the leaders didn't know where they were going. Everyone's confidence in their leaders was dwindling down to nothing. But they had to keep going. For they had no food in their bellies and their paws were brittle and numb, they had no other choice but to keep going.
They had to find the territories untouched by this perilous winter or die trying. |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2018 18:41:55 GMT -5
I said hey look Ma, I made it.
For the first time since the cats left Shadowclans territory, Owlpaw was feeling better! Both physically and emotionally. His wounds were healing nicely, which he kept hearing was a 'blessing from Starclan' if you believe in that sort of crap. Owlpaw saw it more as dumb luck considering Marigoldpelt had died to the fox attack a few days ago, leaving Shadowclan without a medicine cat. Sure, there was Windclans medicine cat, but Owlpaw didn't trust her. He wouldn't put his life in another Clan cats paws, no fucking way.
Owlpaw and his half sister, Bluepaw, had also started to make up after their last fight. Not that Owlpaw felt like he had much of a chance to stay mad at her after she dropped the "I'm Pregnant" line on him. Despite the fact that Bluepaw left for Windclan, Owlpaw had promised to hunt for her while he still had the chance. They were kin, after all, and he wasn't going to let cats he shared blood with starve. Those unborn kittens deserved a fighting chance, even if their odds of survival were relatively slim.
Now that he could stand to move his muscles, Owlpaw and a group of apprentices had taken it upon themselves to hunt while the other cats walked. They had split off into groups of three thanks to a bubbly Windclan cat who offered to tag along with Goosepaw and Honeypaw. He was pretty sure her name was Lavenderpaw, but he wouldn't swear to it. He was just glad that himself, Maplepaw and Pantherpaw were able to hunt by themselves without the help of an outsider.
Owlpaw strode confidently through the crowd of Shadowclan cats, carrying a couple of skinny mice by their tails as he looked around for hungry cats. As far as he knew, the queens and kittens had been fed which meant the last two mice were up for grabs. Naturally, Owlpaw was searching out the older warriors first to see if they had eaten. Sure, Shadowclan didn't have any elders at the moment, but senior warriors were the closest they had, and an older cat would have a harder time in this weather than the apprentices. It was only fair, right?
Sweeping the crowds in one large glance, Owlpaw settled his gaze on Smokefoot. He had never spoken to the older tom as he never had a reason to, but Smokefoot had been here long before Owlpaw joined Shadowclan. Hell, the older tom probably even knew his name due to all the shit Owlpaw usually got himself into. The tabby apprentice didn't hesitate to stride over to the dark tom, a Mrrr leaving his throat to alert the warrior to his approach.
"Smokefoot, right?" Owlpaw meowed with a raised brow after sitting the mice down. "Got a couple of extra mice here for any cat who wants one. You in?" 477 words |
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Post by Sharkfang on Sept 3, 2018 19:23:10 GMT -5
The cats had slowed to a stop around him, the leaders calling them all to a halt to rest. It was going to get colder soon, he could sense it, the air was more tense and anxiety lingered in the cat's voices around him. Someone whispered close to him, a small pitiful sob... I can't do this anymore. I'm so cold. The voice said. In a kind response, the other cat cooed, You can, I promise you. Carry on. Please. Suddenly Smokefoot felt like he was intruding and slowly made his way to the edge of the group, where the sad meows were out of earshot, occasionally bumping into other cats along the way.
The senior tom sighed as he plopped down in the snow, his paws crossed and his chin resting on them lightly. His thick tail lay next to his stomach, shielding him just enough from the slight winds.
The snow behind him crunched and suddenly he was alert. His head turned to the sound, as if he was gazing at the cat approaching him, and he sniffed the air. A young tom, shadowclan. He'd smelled his scent before, but he could not recall his name. His voice sounded familiar, too, it was at the very tip of his tongue...
"Yes, Smokefoot." He nodded, a corner of his lip turning up slightly. Flicking an ear again, he chuckled. "Mice? Well! You are quite a hunter now, aren't you?" He remarked, surprised that the mice were still alive in this harsh winter. He would suspect they were all underground... "And, what do I call you?" He meowed. The black tabby hooked a claw into the mouse, dragging it close to him and biting into it's cold flesh. A shiver ran down his spine. Soon he had gobbled down the whole thing within seconds. That was his first meal in weeks. Though you wouldn't be able to tell that he hadn't eaten a morsel under all that fur of his. He covered the bones with the snow and patted it down.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 4, 2018 11:40:36 GMT -5
I said hey look Ma, I made it.
"Owlpaw," The Shadowclan apprentice replied immediately. "and the other apprentices helped catch them, I think the mice are just as confused as we are by this endless winter. It's been three long moons and it still feels like we're in the middle of the season." Owlpaw wasn't lying. Normally around this time of year, snow would be melting to give way for Newleaf, but the white powder had yet to stop falling. Prey animals that normally returned in the spring would begin to emerge from their dens only to find winter still on their doorstep. "I'm sure we won't find mice for long if they're unable to scavenge amongst the trees for food, so we have to catch them the moment they come out of their dens."
Despite his warrior training coming to a halt due to the entire Journey, Owlpaw was still learning. He observed Shadowclan and Windclan alike when warriors and apprentices hunted. He watched the fox attack of a few days ago with interest, trying to name the moves the other cats used or even learn to apply those same tricks to his own fights. At eleven moons, Owlpaw wasn't even close to being ready to become a warrior, but he could confidently say he wasn't wasting any time. This journey was not a break from his training, it was just... a roadblock he had to work around.
Owlpaw watched Smokefoot closely as he devoured the mouse given to him, noticing the way his face contorted slightly, matched with the shiver down his spine. Owlpaw chuckled. "Cold mice just don't compare to the regular, do they?" the tabby mused, his eyes narrowing in a playful nature, despite Smokefoot being unable to catch his gaze.
"How are you holding up, by the way? Do you need anything else while I'm here?" 303 words
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Post by Sharkfang on Sept 8, 2018 20:40:26 GMT -5
Smokefoot raised an eyebrow at the tom's immediate response. "Aye, has it really been 3 moons?" He thought to himself, his eyebrows furrowed together. "I mean, it do make sense. The prey 'ave all gone in their holes and disappeared." He said with a sigh, his British accent not subtle in the slightest bit. Suddenly, a cold wind passed the two of them and ruffled the tom's thick layers. Smokefoot shivered. "I' never gets this cold back there." He meowed, referring to their old territories. Now, they were in the middle of no where, not a clue to help them out, not a shrine of hope or to see greenery. For now, the white plush snow haunted the clan cats' waking dreams.
"Agreed. They might just all die out. Would be no surprise, seeing as we are barely living ourselves now." He shook his head. As he finished his words, he licked the mouse scraps off of his whiskers and frowned. What if that was the last meal he would eat? This winter seems to not be ending. What if this was their lives now?
"No, no' even close. Sometime I think that cold is a flavor that taints everything good." He chuckled to himself, mumbling something somewhat poetic and clearly thought through. Then he shrugged, "Oh, I'm doing great. Some company would be nice. This win'er is merciless and I need someone to keep me sane. Will you do tha', young Owlpaw?" He meowed, turning his head towards the apprentice's direction.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2018 16:49:08 GMT -5
I said hey look Ma, I made it.
"Never?" Owlpaw echoed as Smokefoot began to reminisce about Shadowclans old territories. "This was my first leaf-bare," Owlpaw added almost immediately, "I was always told that winters would be harsh, but this... isn't anything like I had expected."
Owlpaw shrugged his shoulders as Smokefoot brought up how hard it was to get by out here. "We definitely can't take another fox attack, that's for sure. But I expect things to start getting better now. You might not have noticed yet, Smokefoot," Owlpaw began, narrowing his eyes slightly as he stared at Smokefoots face. The toms eyes were always closed- had he lost them? "The snow has stopped falling for the first time in moons, and while the snow hasn't started to melt yet, I think we're outrunning the snow clouds."
When Smokefoot requested company, Owlpaw felt caught off guard by it. Not many cats wanted the young apprentice to be around, due to his sharp tongue. Owlpaw let out a low chuckle as he settled down not far away from Smokefoot, a smile settled on his lips. "I suppose I could hang out for a bit, but... do you even know who I am? I mean, you didn't even know my name, but I can let that one slide." Owlpaw meowed in a teasing tone, the tip of his tail flicking at Smokefoots front legs. "I don't have the best reputation in Shadowclan- though I think most of the warriors know I at least fight for them by now, even if I have a big mouth that often gets me into trouble. Sometimes I wonder if Fallenstar regrets Pumpkinstar appointing him as my mentor." Owlpaws voice was full of sarcasm as he rambled on, for he knew Fallenstar did like him, even if he got on his nerves occasionally. Owlpaw was a very confident cat, he didn't require the approval of anyone to make him feel good about himself. "But hey, maybe I have it all wrong, maybe the warriors don't gossip about some dumb apprentice as much as I think they do." 343 words
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Post by Sharkfang on Sept 10, 2018 18:53:46 GMT -5
Smokefoot nodded as he spoke. "Yeah, well, no one expected this." He grumbled, shifting his body in the cold snow. Already, his bones had started to ache. Though he was only 5 years old, which wasn't very old at all, mind you, he sometimes felt like he had old bones. This was the only leafbare the cold posed a problem to him. All other times the cold was bearable and short. But this leafbare was not like the previous ones... It was long and hard on everyone.
He tuned in just before Owlpaw spoke again. His grayed, torn ears flicked backward as Smokefoot chuckled to himself. "Ah, yes... I certainly 'ave noticed, and wha' a miracle i' is." Smokefoot shook his head and sighed. He heard the snow crunch as Owlpaw laid himself down on it, and Smokefoot smiled a little bit. Not many people approached Smokefoot or stayed for conversation. It wasn't the worst thing ever, but the silence was getting a little lonely.
Smokefoot raised a kittybrow and smirked. "I've heard a few things 'bout you. Nothin' bad, really." He drawled, a yawn splitting his jaws that exposed his pearly whites and unfurled his tongue. His question rang in his ears while he took a moment to accumulate what he was going to say. "You're a good lad. You are loyal to your clan, despite being a rogue- and yes, I knew you were a city cat. Not much escapes my ears, I hear pretty much er'ything. You get the job done, at all costs. You're a courageous, fearless... all in all, strong cat. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Owlpaw. Just, don't let people tell you any different." The tabby tom had a small smile on his face.
One thing many people stuck around for was his honesty. He wasn't afraid to be blunt and upfront about the issue at hand, and he was a good judge of character. But sometimes his honesty was what drove people away. There was nothing wrong with telling it like it is, but he found it pitiful when people couldn't handle the truth. "I don't think they gossip abou' you, Owlpaw. At least, not from what I've heard. Yeah, they get annoyed at you, but that's their problem, not yours. You're just being a kid." He meowed, shrugging. "My apologies for talking your ear off." He meowed. That was another thing that drove people away; his nonsense rambling. They wouldn't say that's why they left, but he knew deep down, that was the biggest reason. One thing they didn't realize was he would make a damn good elder with all the stories he could tell. His memory served him well for his age, and his story-telling skills were superior.
"My, I cannot wait to feel that grass under my paws again and the sun in my fur. Have I got icicles hanging from my tail?" He joked, lifting his tail for a moment before laying it back down next to his flank. |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 13, 2018 13:23:00 GMT -5
I said hey look Ma, I made it.
Owlpaw found himself laying in front of Smokefoot, a smirk on his lips as he listened to the older tom speak. The tan tabby still found it a bit baffling to believe that the Clan cats didn't gossip about what he got up to, but then again... the Clan cats weren't anything like city cats, he had already learned that. Were he in the city still, any cat within a fifty-foot radius would know what happened and between who. It was how they survived, by knowing which cats to avoid and which ones they could push around.
"Aw, you're too kind, Smokefoot," Owlpaw meowed in a teasing tone, one paw brought up to his chest in a mock fashion to how a shy she-cat would react to even the simplest praise. "I think it helps that I fight for Shadowclan now, instead of fighting Shadowclan. Not many cats were happy when I first joined but, now that I think about it... most of those cats are dead now." Owlpaw furrowed his brow as he thought back to his first few moons in Shadowclan when he was a scrawny and malnourished kitten. Hell, he had practically gone back to that same sickly thin frame, though this time it was just due to poor luck rather than the horrendous hunting skills on his part. "We've lost quite a few cats this leaf-bare, yet we still have at least double the numbers of Windclan."
"Speaking of Windclan," Owlpaw meowed as he glanced over his shoulder, searching out a familiar golden coat. "What do you think of that dumbass "leader" Windclan has?" Owlpaw narrowed his eyes as he observed the golden tom for a moment before turning his gaze back to Smokefoot. "During the fox attack, he didn't lift a single paw to help his Clan, even after one of his apprentices was attacked and killed. How can Windclan follow him if he isn't willing to fight for them? It's... disgusting." Owlpaws voice was rough with irritation. He didn't like Windclan, didn't give a damn if all of them froze to death in the snow- but Bluepaw left Shadowclan to join them. He didn't understand it. Sure, Fallenstar was slow to react to the fox attack, and Owlpaw hadn't hesitated to call him on it. But, in the end, he attacked and even killed a fox! Surely Fallenstar was more respectable than Mushroomstar. 399 words
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