The Seeds Of New Life | MINI PLOT

[Altina Staff]

The Seeds Of New Life

MINI PLOT

Three sunsets have come and gone since The Towers graciously gave Shadowclan a large chunk of land to call their own. In exchange for the redwood forest, Owlscreech, leader of Shadowclan, had agreed to attend the New Moon ritual, held deep inside The Towers territory.

As the moon starts its climb into the sky, a large brown tabby melts out of the darkness and walks into camp, closely followed by an equally buff ginger tom. One of the strangers introduces himself as Bat, a Guard of the Towers, and Owlscreech is quick to greet the newcomers. Bat explains that Radio sent him and his colleague to guide the cats to where their group holds the gathering in 'The Garden'. With a nod of his head and a flick of his tail, Owlscreech begins to follow Bat as he leads the way out of camp and into the darkness of the forest, and signals for his clanmates to do the same.

As you leave the cover of the redwood forest, barely any light filters onto the grass stretching before you. As if they had walked this path a thousand times before, The Tower guards lead Shadowclan onward to the area known as The Garden. By the time the scent of lavender begins to grow strong in the air, the new moon is at its peak in the sky. As the guards dispersed into the crowd of rogue cats, your paws cross over the dirt line of a large ring that encircles the gathered Tower cats. Outside the circle you see a field of multicolored flowers reaching for the sky, and directly in front of you, Radio can be seen padding up to greet your group.

The ritual is about to begin.

ulla

[Deleted]

In The Distance

Bat watched the newcomers with a stready, stoic gaze as they filed in to the ritual. He himself had brought a rather fat rat to the ceremony, looking at it with slight hunger. He'd never admit it, but rituals always made him nervous, too anxious to eat, so he'd often go hungry until the ritual was over with. His eyes shot up to the newcomers. He had to stay alert, to focus on them just in case... He looked at them, picking up the rat in his jaws. Bat watched she-cats extra close, becoming conscious of the long scar over his eye. As beautiful as they were, he personally knew that she-cats could turn on a dime without reason.

Tag - Words - Notes

L

[Ferntrail]

death doesn't discriminate Ferntrail was excited, to say the least. The few nights they had spent in the redwood forest had been spectacular and if the rest of the territory was like it the clans were in for a real treat. The usually nonchalant molly could barely keep the skip out of her step, her eyes bright with excitement. It wasn’t that she was interested in joining The Towers, no nothing like that. She was just so interested in learning about their culture, about their herbs. Spider had mentioned that majority of the cats had some healing ability and the medicine cat hoped she could bump into someone that could have a deep and meaningful conversation to her about herbs. Slowly she was starting to remember the information Starclan had given her, but it was always hit and miss. They hadn’t settled in enough for her to get a good stash of herbs yet but she had spent many nights throughout the journey going over herbs and their uses. Thinking about the journey reminded her that she had to find something that could help Whitesparrow with her seeing problem. Her friend would be have no trouble at this ritual, as the was only lit up by the soft glow of the Silverpelt. Maybe she’d go find Whitesparrow later on, after she helped Owlscreech with whatever he needed. Blazing emerald eyes managed to pick out the approaching figure of Radio, Ferntrail striding forward to be by Owlscreech’s side. Ferntrail wasn’t that old or as experienced as some cats but if Owlscreech needed her help she’d be there and so would Vipernose. between the sinners and the saints

[Ferntrail]

` ♚ B L U E B E L L ♚

words . tags

♚Fuck this! Fuck life! This was all fucking stupid. Having to go bury dead cats that she didn’t give two shits about. Boo hoo, they were dead. Who gives a fuck? The Towers should be celebrating the living, not forcing strangers to come watch them say their final ‘goodbye’ to their friends and family. Why even make it into a fucking ceremony? Imagine if a cat dropped dead right after the ceremony and you had to wait for another moon or however long to bury them. Especially when it gets super humid. Bluebell would be shocked, if she didn’t think The Towers were a bunch of brain dead morons.

They were really when Radio forced her and many other cats to come. She actually had a reason not to go! She was fucking pregnant and ready to pop. If she gave birth to her kits at this satanic ritual thing with randos surrounding her she would shred Radio and Spider to pieces. To make it worse, Owlscreech had made it very clear she’d be in a lot of shit if she messed this up. He was lucky that she loved him, that she was willing to waddle all the way from camp to this stupid garden place that was suffocating her with the stench of lavender.

Did she plan to stay with the clan? Hell no. She wouldn’t cause any trouble, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to stay put for a whole night. She was gonna explore, find all the places she could hide if The Towers turned on Shadowclan. For the newly named warrior it was just a question of how to escape Owlscreech’s probing gaze without being yowled at to get her ass back. The incoming Radio would provide a perfect distraction. The Towers was being extra helpful, also providing her with an escape route. Eying up the massive tank of a tom she tottered away from Shadowclan and towards him.

If Owlscreech had a problem with her being escorted around with a guard he could suck it. She had promised not to cause a scene, not to pay attention. Plus he was busy hanging out with Ferntrail and she felt justified in going for a little wander.

”Hello there honey… I was wondering if you could show me a place to y’know piss. Kits pressing on the bladder” Her fluffy, plumed tail resting on his shoulder. ”Don’t worry about anything, my clan can full me in on all the rules and whatnot afterwards” The eye that wasn't marred by scar tissue was staring up to him, a intense spark glittering in them. ”Thank you” she purred, not waiting for him to actually answer.

As she headed in the opposite direction of Shadowclan it was very obvious that her kits needed to come out. Bluebell was basically just swaying around her stomach and even then it was rather difficult to keep moving forward at a steady speed.

` all my ladies wine to the left, sway to the right, drop it down low then take it back high
bitch i don't need introduction, follow my simple instruction

table (c)ulv of adoxography

[Deleted]

In The Distance

Bat didn't really answer, looking down at the she-cat with a calm gaze before he stood, going after her when she began to walk away. He walked with his side lightly touching hers, trying to help her walk more steadily. He hesitated just a moment, keeping the dead rat close to him, not wanting to not have a body to bury, "There's a spot close by, it'll only take a moment I promise." he said in a gentle voice, voice deep yet oddly soothing for his looks. The massive brown tabby tom cat lightly turned, leading her around a rather thick bush, outside the garden a little ways and tangled tightly, though he easily used his snout to form a spot where she could get into the bush, having to keep it open for her as he held it, "Just say something when you're done and I'll pry it back open for you, unless you want me to go and you do it yourself?" he half questioned, anxious to be too far from the ritual

Tag - Words - Notes

L

[Vipernose]

Vipernose

Vipernose had neutral feelings on the oncoming event. She was curious to see what would happen, but at the same time, she just wanted to sleep. She wanted to curl up next to her mate and kit and dream about sweet nothings, not bury stupid seeds. She wasn't exactly sure of what this 'ritual' was supposed to consist of, all she knew was that she would have to endure it.

With a quiet grunt, she pulled to a stop behind Owlscreech, studying the group of Towers cats in front of them. She could see that the males were big, muscular, and intimidating; the females were lithe and sleek - beautiful. Radio clearly had particular types of cats he preferred in his group. She could feel the burning sensation of someone's eyes on her, and she followed the feeling to pinpoint the source. It was a large dark brown tom, and he seemed to be looking at all the she-cats. The tabby couldn't help but back up a little, suddenly uncomfortable.

If this turned into anything bad, she would be back at the camp in a heartbeat.

Vipernose swallowed, trying not to draw attention to herself, and drew closer to her leader. She felt more secure when she was by some cat she knew, rather than practically standing out in the open for everyone to see. Maybe that was something that came with her job, but that didn't mean she had to do it. Right?

Her breathing subconsciously accelerated, and she hoped that Owlscreech wouldn't notice. Or if he did, he wouldn't make a big deal of it. She couldn't possible be the only cat who didn't feel too good about all this... Was she making a scene for nothing? 

The she-cat's eyes darted around, and she could feel herself shifting her weight from paw to paw. She was getting more and more nervous by the second. 

Could they just get it over with already?

_____________________________________________

You brought the flames and you put me through hell
I had to learn how to fight for myself

MADE BY VEL OF GS AND ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

[pythontail]

   

 Pythontail's nerves felt tight, like a still-wet bowstring in the process of being stretched and dried. Throughout the day, the ceaseless tension increased by gradual degrees, slowly turning the usually unpleasant she-cat into an insufferable one. Emerald eyes kept glancing upward, gauging the inevitable shift from powder to periwinkle to sapphire as the light was slowly drained from the sky like blood from the body of a corpse under preparation for burial. As a cat of ShadowClan, Pythontail had never dreaded the night. She had always been positive that she was the most terrifying thing in the clans' forests.

    Until now.

    Pythontail was ashamed of herself for her fear, and tried to quench it in the cold waters of logic and reason which had always been her solace. The Towers had no reason to welcome the clans onto their land just to slaughter them two days later. They could have chased them off that first day easily had they been so inclined, with much less risk. Instead, these days in their new home had allowed her clan time to recover, nurse their wounds, and rebuild their strength, confidence, and sense of their unique identity as ShadowClan cats. The enemy the Towers would face that night--should they be so foolish as to turn her clan into an enemy--would not be nearly as pliable as the rag bag of exhausted and starving cats whom they had greeted at the base of the mountain two days ago. The black femme was suspicious by nature. In her opinion it was better to be paranoid than dead. Her instincts had kept her alive on more than one occasion, and so when they tugged at her soul with their invisible fingers, she gave them an ear. However, unlike other cats, she did not trust instinct implicitly, instead balancing it with her sharp mind and physical senses. A cat who let instinct rule them was no better than the prey they hunted for food. And so, even though instinct cried for her to object to their strange agreement with the Towers, logic could give her no solid reason to call off their strange agreement with the natives, and so she remained silent.

    As the new moon climbed its way into the sky using stars for footholds, the sparkling but inconsistent light of SilverPelt trickling down through the thick, featherlike needles of the towering redwoods above, soft pawsteps sounded nearby, followed by that sickly sweet scent which she had already come to associate with their new neighbors. Owlscreech must have heard as well, for he immediately turned from what he was doing and padded over to respectfully greet the two newcomers, one a tabby, the other a fiery ginger. Both were large and--perhaps intentionally--intimidating, their muscles moving beneath their pelt like ripples of power beneath the surface of a lake. It made sense that the Towers would choose impressive toms to escort her clan to the ritual and discourage disobedience, in the same way that it made sense they had used a beautiful she-cat to lure them into accepting the bargain in the first place; everything was a mind game, after all, and a battle was won subliminally before it ever came to blows. Pythontail couldn't help but feel a reluctant flicker of admiration for the Towers. They seemed the intelligent sort, and the black molly could always find it in her to appreciate the presence of other bright minds.

    The introductions were brief, few words wasted, and then the two strangers turned and padded off into the forest. Around her, cats rose to follow, some faces painted with eagerness, others shadowed with terror. Holding her head high, trying to will her bristling hackles flat and her ever active tail still, she padded a couple tail-lengths behind Owlscreech, silent and observant, like a shadow. Ferntrail, their medicine cat, padded along on one side of their leader, a bounce to the young molly's step that left little doubt as to her opinion on the matter. Foolish child. She had probably heard the word herbs and gone into convulsions of ecstasy. Pythontail had always abhorred the necessity of medicine cats, but was unable to deny their contributions to maintaining a stable, motivated clan, so she typically kept her maw shut as long as they kept their vile concoctions to themselves and refrained from pressing their unwanted advice about StarClan on the atheistic molly. Turning her head aside, she saw that Vipernose, the deputy, was padding along next to Owlscreech on the opposite side. The dark tabby had drawn closer to him, as if collecting some sort of strength from him. If that was the case, then Pythontail couldn't help but be relieved that she had refused the mantle of leadership. ShadowClan needed strength, not fear or weakness, and though their young leader was untrained and untested, at least he padded forward with dignity and reality in his step toward their unknown destination.

    The smell of lavender and other herbs lay cloyingly thick on the air, almost choking Pytontail while simultaneously indicating that they were drawing close to their destination. Hadn't Radio mentioned something about a large garden that first day? Here, the trees fell away, revealing a circle bare of undergrowth surrounded by strangely organized patches of flowers and plants. She glanced around around, taking it all in, before flickering back to where their escorts had once stood, but she had turned too late; they had already dispersed into the larger group of unfamiliar cats. It was hard in the darkness, even with her well adjusted eyes, to gauge their number, but she began to mentally count the ones she could see anyway. She wanted to have a solid report for Owlscreech when they returned back to camp. After all, she wasn't here to show acceptance of the Towers or their ritual. She was here on an information gathering mission--her personal reason for encouraging this meeting in the first place--and she would fulfill her self-appointed task. If she failed in that, then this was all for naught. She had just reached two dozen when Radio approached in that strangely laid back and confident way he had. His step was that of a king comfortable in his throne, accustomed to the weight of a crown upon his head--and no one wearing a crown ever comes in the name of peace. It was hard to gauge his age from his outward appearance, but he was clearly more used to command than Owlscreech. Unconsciously, Pythontail took in a silent breath and held it, count lost and forgotten, eyes fixed on Radio, waiting for what he would say. Her claws unsheathed into the dirt below her paws, releasing a deep, reassuring, earthy scent into the air. She drew confidence from that. However, the familiar scent wrestled temporarily with the sweet air before being swept away and replaced once again by the undeniable smell of the seeds of new life. There was no question.

    They were in the Towers territory now.

[Vipernose]

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life

And I’m feelin’

Good...

The young tom didn't really belong to ShadowClan, but he figured that since Owlscreech was the leader - which he learned all on his own - he decided that he would help build their camp. Ash wouldn't say that him and the tan tabby were exactly friends yet, but he knew that the ShadowClan authority was okay with him, if just a tiny bit.

He stood towards the back of the clan, trying to keep a low profile. Keeping quiet and hidden was new to Ash; he was more used to shoving his way to the front and putting on a show. Owlscreech had basically told him that he would have to lose the act in order to join the clan, so he did. He was still working on the joining the clan part, though.

The rogue suddenly smelled lavender, and he tried hard not to choke on the stench. It was extremely strong, but Ash couldn't figure out why. Before he could ask, the clan came to a halt. There were two cats in front of Owlscreech, and they seemed to be telling him something. The leader then nodded and began to follow the two unknown toms. 

The gray feline flicked his ears, and couldn't help but find it quite strange that all these cats were okay with going to participate in some ritual with a bunch of other cats they had never met before. If he were leader, he would have taken only a small amount of his clan to observe before putting all his clanmates in danger. But then again, maybe he didn't know all the information like everyone else seemed to.

And then they were stopped again, but this time, there were dozens of she-cats and toms in front of them, on the other side of a circular garden. The ShadowClan cats seem confused, but Ash couldn't imagine why. Didn't they know what a garden was? Or was this clan so ignorant of city objects that they didn't know what the simplest things were? Or maybe it was something else that had them puzzled, the rogue would never know.

Then green eyes studied the Towers cats for the first time, and he saw something that he probably shouldn't've.

Females.

Mollies that were the prettiest he had ever seen. Sure they had some scars and imperfections, but they were gorgeous. They were well-groomed and graceful, just breathtaking. He was practically drooling, and he couldn't look away.

But he had to.

Ash blinked and looked down at his paws, ashamed. Back when he lived alone in dark alleys, he wouldn't have ever questioned his actions and looked away. In fact, he would have approached the she-cats and attempted to charm them. But now that he wasn't a city cat anymore, he had to learn some lessons. And the number one thing that he always needed to remember was:

Old habits die hard.

As hard as it sounded, the small male would have to give up his old life. That didn't mean he still couldn't have some fun with the ladies of this clan, but he would have to learn to respect them. He would have to start keeping them for more than one night, not treating them all like trash. Ash would have to find 'the one' in this clan and hope that they weren't taken. He would have to change his life completely.

When they got back to the camp after this ritual, the rogue would have to talk with Owlscreech and tell him that he wanted to join the clan. And in that act of boldness, he would be accepting a new life, something that he had never considered before until he met the young ShadowClan leader.

He would be a clan cat. 

625 words

✿ EDEL ✿

[speckleleafblue]

Dovepaw cautiously walks in looking around, the scent of lavander was overwhelming to the young she-cat. She tries to hide within her own clanmates.

[Mushroomstar]

You can call me

Bun bun

Spider was utterly delighted to see the faces of shadowclan arriving to their ritual. Radio had told all his hunters to pile up extra prey for them so even they could participate, he was such a generous champion. She could see how surprised or impressed some of the cats were, while others looked like they had a thorn stuck in their butt. The garden was by far one of the more glorious places in The Towers. Prone to wildfire in the drier seasons it was a great place to teach kits about the cycle of life and plant life. The teachers would often come here during the wetter days to teach those lessons. It was an important place to their group, these cats should show a little more respect for it. Do they not bury their dead? The way some of them looked at cats dragging their dead loved ones or comrades was disheartening. Surely they must have some empathy. The beautiful coal colored she-cat kept her seductive looks even when in her thoughts. She was curious if that shadowclan medicine cat would approach her again. That female seemed interested enough, even if it was only because of the vast amount of plants. Spider sat with a few other assistants, each of them had a pile of prey for their guests, while also a piece of prey for themselves. Her attention along with the rest of The Tower cats turned when they scented or heard their leader approaching. He no longer had guards beside him because why did he need them here? 

A real wild card

We are all stones, all different shapes and sizes. Separated we are nothing but rocks, but together we can soar to new heights creating our own  

tower

    
Radio was very pleased with the results. Both clans had agreed to a ritual, shadowclan's ritual came first though as the moon aligned so. Out of the two groups this one was the one most on edge. He would take his steps carefully but not too carefully that it would be noticed by many others. After all he wasn't going to hold peace if it meant harm to his own group. But any good leader knows that. As he approached many turned to him. While when he first meet the cats he was guarded by two guards, here he did not need them beside him. He was surrounded by guards, even if they were not all technically guards. After all when you appeal to your group you're likely to have back up even if they aren't as well trained as guards. Plus the small tom wasn't worried. Shadowclan was on its toes, they wouldn't pick a fight here.

He got to the center of everyone, the lack of moonlight only made him blend in more, but luckily cats could see in the dark. He cleared his voice and meowed "Welcome. Cats of The Towers, and our guests, Shadowclan. We prepare ourselves to continue our ritual as we do each new moon. Our gatherers found many seeds and our hunters delivered many food for our guests so they may also participate with us." He waved his paw a bit at the assistants who all had small piles of prey with them. Each one walking around gently dropping a prey item followed by a seed of unknown origin. As they did that Radio continued to meow "Tonight is a night of remembrance to those we have lost. While they might be gone now they will forever remain in our hearts, and perhaps one day they shall return to us in a different form." He then waved his paws at the scouts who disappeared only to reappear with three dead cat bodies, most which had frosted whiskers for some reason.

Radio let the scouts move ahead to a bare patch of land in the garden. Radio then walked over with three assistants behind him each carrying a leaf sake. Radio began to dig the holes for each dead cat, getting his paws rather dirty as he did. Once the holes were deep enough he dragged the first body into one and an assistant came forth. Radio looked out to his group and the shadowclanners "Our first lost friend was dear old Maggie. She lived a very good life, and taught many of you that are still with us today." He nodded his head at the assistant who bowed and put down the leaf that was carrying seeds. "Maggie loved sunflowers, therefore for her burial my scouts have traveled far to gather her favorite plant as they don't grow around our home as often." He tossed the seeds in and then meowed "Maggie, we shall miss your teachings, your students have all thrived as you inspired them. May you rest in peace and become one with the earth and these seeds. Help them grow as you helped others grow..."

Radio left the grave open as they did not bury them till after each cat got to say a full goodbye. Radio moved on to the next cat dragging them into a hole. The second assistant arrived beside him waiting for his signal. Radio spoke again his voice not wavering "Our second lost was Ghost, a fine gentleman and a talented hunter. But even experts can have accidents." He nodded his head again as the signal and a leaf with seeds in it was placed down before him. "Ghost enjoyed water mint the most, likely why the rivers around our territory was his favorite hunting places." He soon enough tossed the seeds into the grave. "Ghost, you shall be missed greatly. Many young hunters looked up to you, including your own son. We lost you far too soon. May you rest in peace and become one with the earth and these seeds. Please help them grow so you may provide medicine to your loved friends and families."

Radio moved on to the last grave dragging in the last cat in. He panted softly as this was a tiring ritual to perform when you are small like him compared to how big some of these cats got. He cleared his throat again and the last assistant stepped forward. "Last but not least, we have lost Lilic. We are still baffled by her sudden death, it is believed it was an internal injury we could not have predicted or prevented. My heart goes out to her family as she was far to young to go. She was an up in coming organizer.L" He gave the last assistant the signal and once more the leaf was placed down but instead of seeds it was berries.. "While I only knew Lilac a short time compared to the other two, I still am very aware of her favorite plant. Interestingly Lilac was a berry fan, my scouts did a fine job of going into the city to get the necessary berries for this burial." He dropped the berries into the grave and meowed "You shall be missed Lilac, we hope no one suffers like you must've. We hope in the future we can understand what happened to you and help prevent it in other cats. You were a very inspired organizer, you had big plans and were eager to share. May you rest in peace and become one with the earth and these berries. Please help them grow so others may share them."

With the last burial done Radio stepped back and announced loudly "Now is the time to join in. Take whatever piece of prey you have and find a place for it and your seed. These pieces of prey shall help nurse the seed to adulthood." Spider came up behind him handing him his piece of prey and seed before taking her own and walking near the shadowclanners to plant it. Radio gently dug into the dirt and planted his seed. He meowed "Once you have finished all who wish may come and say goodbye to our fallen cats before they are covered up."

Good or Bad?

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

[speckleleafblue]

Despite having a fight with a tree and lost. As quickly as possible tho he was limbing was carrying a fat lizard. He panicked as he almost ran into a random cat and gulps but acted like there was nothing wrong with him even tho he was patched up. He pressed on hoping they wouldn't ask questions and waits to find out what to do with his prey. He watched as Owlscreech put the seed in the mouth and buries it in the ground. He followed by example and did the same.

[Deleted]

Owlscreech

I said hey look Ma, I made it.

The night to attend The Towers ritual had finally come, and Owlscreech wasn't exactly happy to be wandering in the pitch black forest right now. He would much rather have Shadowclan home, safe within the protection of their bramble walls and, oh yeah, not dragging his severely fucking pregnant sister to Starclan knows where. The thought that The Towers could turn on them at any second was still plaguing his mind, and Owlscreech didn't want to be the reason his kin, or his clan, lost their lives tonight. Ever since he agreed to attend, and even though he had the support of his "senior" warriors, the tabby tom couldn't convince himself they weren't walking straight into a trap. He really, really hated the feeling in his gut right now.

As Owlscreech padded along directly behind the large brown tom who had been tasked with taking them into "enemy" territory, the already too familiar scent of Ferntrail swept forward to greet his nose. She had come to walk beside him, though by the look glinting in her eye, Ferntrail was not as nervous as he was. Perhaps that was for the best, as Owlscreech would be able to ground himself with her confident air if he were to get overwhelmed at any point in the night. Of course, these thoughts were instantly interrupted as he felt the course pelt of bristling fur brush against his side as Vipernose drew closer to him. He spared his deputy a glance, one that held many silent questions. What had startled her? Seeing as how he didn't want to draw the guards attention to himself or his deputy, Owlscreech simply offered the dark tabby a shrug of his shoulders and his best reassuring smile. Shadowclan would return home safely, Owlscreech would make damn sure of it.

Thankfully, the rest of the walk seemed to pass by in record time, though Owlscreech guessed that was more so due to the fact that The Journey was the last trip he had taken. As his white tipped paws stepped into a large circle, mint eyes scanned everything around in front of him. Plants were in full bloom as far as the eye could see, and their strong scents mingled with the already overpowering scent of lavender to truly render his nose useless to him. The garden itself was rather beautiful, but it reminded him a little too much of the city for his personal comfort. Just like when he was alone all those moons ago, Owlscreech instinctively began accessing the cats around him. He took note of their build, their numbers, and if they appeared outwardly hostile or not. He also began searching for an escape route, just in case his Clan had to make a quick getaway.

Seeing cats begin to split down the middle snagged Owlscreechs attention, and as he turned to face the parting cats, Radio himself was walking up to greet him. He gave a small nod to acknowledge the other leader, as while Owlscreexh was doing his best to appear at least mildly friendly, he didn't want to give any of these strangers the impression that he was here to make lasting friendships. Radio wasted no time in starting the ritual, and apparently, they were to begin with a funeral. In the back of his mind, Owlscreech had hoped they would do this before or after Shadowclan left, as burials were usually very personal to the loved ones of the deceased, but it appeared they would have no such luck tonight. Committing himself to a long night, Owlscreech simply watched as the ritual began.

To be fair, the burial itself was rather normal. Graves were dug and Radio would speak a few words to honor the lost soul, and Owlscreech could at least understand the sentiment of burying your loved one with their favorite flower or plant. Owlscreech himself had taken his mothers' favorite flower to her grave before he left the city for good. As it came time for Shadowclan to participate in the burial, the tabby tom was feeling more at ease. He walked towards one of the hunters who had a stock of fresh kill underfoot and, after searching the felines face to try and find any trace of sadness, he gave a small dip of his head. He didn't know if The Towers would recognize this as a respectful gesture, but he was preconditioned to bow his head from living in Shadowclan for so long.

Owlscreech accepted a red-tailed chipmunk as it was offered to him, along with a random seed to accompany it. There hadn't been any instructions on what exactly he was supposed to do, so Owlscreech decided to take his best guess. Extending a claw, Owlscreech hooked the lip of the chipmunk in order to open its mouth before carefully tipping his paw pad over the creature's muzzle to place the seed inside. Using his claw again, Owlscreech unceremoniously shoved the seed down the chipmunk's throat before removing his paw and gently shutting the creature's mouth. He had no idea if this is what he was supposed to do, but if The Towers wanted things done a specific way, they should have told him. Now they could bite him. Picking the chipmunk up in his jaws, Owlscreech waited for a certain calico she-cat to find him amongst the crowd. Once she had also prepared her prey, Owlscreech laid his tail across her back in a calming manner and guided her to a more secluded area, where he began to dig in the dirt. Once he deemed the hole was large enough, Owlscreech dropped his 'sacrifice' into the divot and gently scooped the dirt over the top.

Well... that wasn't so hard. Was that really all it took to appease The Towers?

965 words

template by punki of adoxography

[Ferntrail]

` ♚ B L U E B E L L ♚

words . tags

♚Bluebell was surprised, to say the least. This tom was polite and accommodating, something she hadn’t expected from these cult cats. Even if the blue molly didn’t want to admit it, leaning on his side also really helped. Her anger and hatred towards basically everything that opposed her also consumed her and she was already tiring. ”Your rather sweet, y’know?” she mused, looking up at him with a curious eye.

”You don’t seem like that whore, Spider” As he lead her to place she realized that her kits were actually pressing on her bladder and graciously slid into the well hidden spot. ”You can go ahead and bury your prey, I’ll be fine” Bluebell wasn’t about to go wandering off, but neither was she about to go back and bury her own piece of prey. After a few minutes of getting herself sorted out she didn’t bother to check if he had left, fighting her way through the plants towards the opposite side.

When she finally broke free, she plodded away without a look back. It wasn’t like she was going skipping into the Tower’s territory, she was merely a couple of fox lengths from the circle that marked The Garden. Not really sure what she was looking for, she simply took in the territory, trying to ignore the buzz of chatter from the cats gathered around the burial site.

` all my ladies wine to the left, sway to the right, drop it down low then take it back high
bitch i don't need introduction, follow my simple instruction

table (c)ulv of adoxography

[pythontail]

   

    Welcome, Cats of The Towers, and our guests, Shadowclan. Radio’s words were clear and rhythmic, nearly hypnotic in the sway they held over the massive gathering. Pythontail found herself mildly surprised. Back in the old forest, the clans had been the sole civilized living beings as far as common knowledge stretched. The only other organization that had even come close was The Fire, a rogue group which had nearly torn the clans apart, but even they were nothing compared to The Towers. This group was larger, more organized, with a clearly codified hierarchy and religion and rituals and culture. It was the closest thing to a clan that the clans had ever stumbled across. Pythontail swallowed instinctively. We are not alone anymore. That realization was simultaneously comforting and frightening.

    It was clear from the way the speech rolled off Radio’s tongue--eerily similar to a leader announcing an apprentice’s warrior name--that he had spoken these words many, many times. We prepare ourselves to continue our ritual as we do each new moon. Our gatherers found many seeds and our hunters delivered plenty of food for our guests, so they may also participate with us. Tonight is a night of remembrance to those we have lost. While they might be gone now they will forever remain in our hearts, and perhaps one day they shall return to us in a different form. A different form...intriguing. No more and no less illogical, she figured, than the clans’ fanatical belief in StarClan. What happened next, however, shocked her. Radio himself walked over to a bare patch in the garden...and began to laboriously dig a grave. The leader of The Towers, crafting mausoleums for his fallen clanmates with his own claws. She could only gape. In the tradition of the forest clans, the elders were the ones who interred graves and dragged the bodies away after a vigil. She had never before observed a body being lowered into the ground; that event was hidden safely out of sight and out of mind, a task for the clan’s most frail and elderly. It was far below a leader to engage in such dirty servitude. What kind of trick was this?

    Glancing away by force of will simply to break her stare, Pythontail allowed her gaze to travel over The Tower cats again. This time, instead of counting, she simply observed each one as an individual. That was when the second realization broke, and she felt it like cold ice running through her veins. Where were the elderly? The maimed in battle? The handicapped-from-birth? The blind? The deaf? The mothers and kits? Every single cat gathered here was young and beautiful and strong--as many of her clanmates had noted--with sleek fur and well fed bellies. Was it possible that this was not The Towers’ full number? That there were even more hidden in the forest somewhere at their equivalent of what the clans called a camp? The thought settled in her stomach like a stone. Should they decide to settle here permanently, the two clans would be at The Towers’ mercy. ShadowClan and WindClan would be vassals, existing only at the pleasure of their king. Should The Towers demand anything of them, they would be physically unable to resist without risking extermination. A cold sweat broke out on her skin, causing the already chilly night to take on a frigid cast. She would have to discuss this with Owlscreech.

    Pythontail had missed what was said next, but was pulled from her intense reverie by the heavy thump of a dead body dropped at her paws. She glanced down--her piece of prey was a crow. How ironic that the well known herald of death would now be buried to grow new life. Had she been in a better mood, she might have bared her teeth in an ugly grin at such a morbid joke. Beside its cold black feathers she found a small pawful of seeds. They were about the size of a claw and covered in white cotton-down. She was unable to identify them, of course--in the clans, any and all life-saving plant knowledge was kept locked tight behind the lips of a select, StarClan chosen few.

    Emerald eyes flickered to Owlscreech, and she watched as her leader buried his prey before stiffly following his example. The fact that she was interring perfectly good fresh kill hardly crossed her mind. It was new-leaf, and it was clear that this was a forest of plenty. If her suspicions were correct, then ShadowClan had much larger issues at paw than the act of wasting gifted prey in a foreign ritual.

    After the act was done, she paused. Radio had invited anyone who wished to gaze down at the dead cats to do so. Steeling herself, she padded forward. Perhaps there would be some clue she could glean from the dead. Sometimes they were far more talkative than the living. Her wandering had brought her incidentally close to where Radio stood. “The clans often kept burials at arm’s length.” she commented softly aloud as she gazed down at the fallen foreign warrior. She couldn't recall his name...hadn't Radio said he liked rivers and watermint? “There is something humbling about being face to face with death. It is a reminder that we are never more than six feet from our final resting place. I am sorry for your losses.” She did not know if Radio would deign to reply, so she simply continued to observe the body. It was dark without the moon, and darker within the earth, and Pythontail could make out no useful details. Perhaps the old saw was true.

These dead men were certainly telling no tales.

[Ferntrail]

death doesn't discriminate Ferntrail’s vivid emerald eyes followed the murmur of commotion, her gaze landing on Radio, who was padding up to greet the clans. The molly knew it was a game of seduction, that he was trying to get the clans to trust him. In no way did Ferntrail trust this group but mutual respect was needed between the groups to live peacefully. The freckled molly dipped her head as the tom greeted the gathered cats, listening to what he had to say. The Towers were even gracious enough to provide them with the necessities required to partake in the ritual. She looked back at her clan, noting the mixture of bored, angry and curious expressions. Ferntrail knew her clan would not want The Towers, apart from a few loney cats and that as long as they went along with everything they would be fine. Pushing down her worries, she made her way to where she could get a good view of what Radio was doing. It was all rather beautiful and pleasant, different to how the clans did things. When a cat passed away in the clans, the elders were blessed with the tasks to dig out the graves where their kin were lowered to the ground. Some cats thought it was too strenuous for the older, more frail cats to deal with but she had seen a few burials in her life and the elders had never complained. When her brothers had been brutally murdered she hadn’t gotten to spend the night cuddled in their pelts, that choice had been ripped from her. She didn’t know what had happened to their bodies and she’d definitely have to confront Bluebell about that later. She came back to the present as Radio addressed the crowd, telling them to join in. Looking down at the piece of prey she had picked up -a plump squirrel with lush, soft fur - she gently pulled it’s jaws apart, popping the seed into the back of it’s throat. Ferntrail wasn’t really sure if she was doing it right however she made herself a perfect picture of confidence, digging a hole in the rich soil. Laying the creature in the ground, she made quick work of covering it over and patting down the earth. ”May your souls find somewhere safe to rest” After her quiet murmuring she took a step back, scanning the gathered cats. Spotting the cat she was looking forward, she strode towards the black figure. ”Greetings, Spider” Her voice was warm and full of a friendly purr ”I’m Ferntrail, the Medicine Cat of Shadowclan! I was just wondering if you could tell me more about your religion and what not” between the sinners and the saints