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Post by Silver on Jul 26, 2008 17:18:11 GMT -8
Match curled up a little tighter when Fiver almost tripped over him in her pacing. She seemed so... angry, and confused. For a second, Match felt himself go out to her, but he quickly pulled himself together. Fiver would not like him feeling sad for her. However, he was seriously caught off guard when Fiver whispered to him. "Goodbye my friend," Fiver considered him a friend? Fiver didn't seem like the kind of person to call someone a friend very easily. A very happy feeling bubbled up inside him, knowing that he had earned a bit of Fiver's trust. However, the cuts did begin to sting very badly, so he had to turn his mind to a different subject. "Pantheress? Do you think I could-" he paused to flinch as he shifted, before continuing, "Could I have some of that?"
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Aug 4, 2008 11:38:12 GMT -8
From the verdurous abyss of ~Pantheress~ A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.
Pantheress reclaimed her eyes from within Fala's shadowy viscera. She turned her ebony muzzle toward Match, emerald eyes glinting with unseen thoughts. Ears pointed toward the sky above, Pantheress's mouth curled into a smirk as she used her claws to hook some of the leftover moss and goldenrod. "Of course," she answered, beginning to dab Match's wounds with a damp piece of moss. She saw him wince as she cleaned the deeper cuts, but soothed his struggles with mint and goldenrod; wrapping his cuts with warm dew-dappled webs. She then turned back to "Damien" and heaved him gently onto a bed of moss forged from beneath the large stones in the hollow. Her eyes scanned the surrounding undergrowth with sullenness. How long will it take for the Clans to discover we are here? And when they do, will we be treated as allies, or enemies?
She conciliated her own wounds with mint and goldenrod, the warm stickiness of the spider webs lulling her torn, throbbing ear to silence. She sent Bandit a gaze with a pinch of urgency behind her pupils. She needed to speak with him.
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Post by Silver on Aug 5, 2008 14:45:53 GMT -8
Match nodded thankfully to Pantheress, immediatly feeling better. Cautiously, he stood, testing his new bandges. The pain had been greatly numbed, much to his delight. "Thank you, Pantheress," he purred. Pantheress, however, seemed... edgy. She kept glancing at Bandit, as if she wanted to speak with him. He shrugged, but that made his shoulders sting. Instead, he turned warily to Shell. "So how has Alley been?" he asked softly.
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Aug 5, 2008 17:10:06 GMT -8
At dawn the hero rises... ~Pantheress~ At dusk the hero falls.
Pantheress watched with blank eyes as Match stood and tested his bandaged limbs: her soul was wandering through the endless mazes of her mind. She glanced back over at Bandit who seemed to have eyes only for Fala; his gaze an ice-tipped dagger with curiosity at the hem. Although she never would have admitted it, she felt a claw of jealousy rip through her chest. Lifting her chin in arrogance toward her own twisted thoughts, she dropped her locked gaze upon Bandit and tried to remember the original reason for wanting to speak with him. Her ghostly eyes ambled back over to Match. The tom had been pricking his gaze into her pelt, but now he shrugged and winced as his wounds drew fire behind his bandages. "I know it feels better, Match," she spoke, placing a delicate paw upon his shoulder and easing him back down into his nest. "But they won't heal if you are so persistent about moving around. They will re-open, and, despite the goldenrod, can attract infection."
She left Match curled in his nest with Shell as company and trotted across the jade-laced clearing toward Bandit. His albino-tabby fur gleamed like freshly fallen snow beneath the Greenleaf sun as he watched the other black she-cat with mild interest. Pantheress cleared her throat, positioning her delicate ebony paws against her chest as she perched herself on his left. She narrowed her eyes as she waited for his gaze to leave Fala's pelt and wander to hers. The burn in her chest continued to bubble and sear. I need to get away from this crowd soon or I'm going to turn insane...
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Post by Måø§† on Aug 6, 2008 20:28:34 GMT -8
We are at war With the universe The sky is falling and the only thing that can save us now is sensitivity and compassion
But I know one thing's for sure I'm gonna get my kicks before it all burns down
yeah, Some say tragedy is hard to get over But some time that tragedy means its over, soulja from the academy, league of rollers I deny being down though they seem to hold us my shoulders are strong, i prove them wrong I ain't doing nothin but movin on, let the truth be known But they talk that freedom matters, and didn't even leave a ladder, damn
I work at the corner store We all got problems problems Who was gon fight alone No one's gon save us now How you feel, you're not alone We're all just jealous jealous We don't reach the sky no more We just can't overcome no
You tie my hands What am I gonna be What have I done so bad What is my destiny You tie my hands What am I supposed to see What have I done so bad What am I gonna be I, knock on the door, hope isn't home, fates not around, the lucks all gone don't ask me whats wrong, ask me whats right and ima tell you whats life and did you know? I lost everything, but I ain't the only one first came the hurricane, then the morning sun Excuse me if I'm on one, and don't trip if i light one, i walk a tight one They try to tell me keep my eyes open my whole city under water, some people still floatin and they wonder why black people still voting, cause your presidents still chokin Take away the football team, the basketball team now all we got is me to represent New Orleans, shit no governor, no help from the mayor just a steady beatin heart, and a wish and a prayer lets pray
Bandit sensed the piercing gaze of Patheress burn into his pelt again and he ducked his head slightly to depart from his previous conversation. His icy blue eyes wandered until he met the compelling she-cat infront of him, shifting his paws softly against the damp earth. The hot sun cast a powerful ray of warmth and light over her fur, a radiant gleam soaking up the luminous gleam. Her dazzling green eyes brought thoughts of blooming new-leaf to his mind. Riveting almost, Bandit shifted his gaze in embarrassment.
Satisfied, Fala seemed to danced around her companion, steps light and effortless. She curled up in a fetus-like position, flexing her claws and finally resting her muzzle on the bloodstained cat infront of her. Worries clouded her mind, their once gentle rush now thrashing in blows of urgency to be audible. Should she really have joined these rogues ranks? She could leave couldn't she? She could leave this forest of chaos when Damien had healed enough, she would leave for Damiens sake, his safety. A cold pang of guilt delivered itself straight to her chest: Damien...passion of anger and grief spun its threads around her heart and mind, what had she done? Clenching her jaw she kept her closed and silently battled the many doubts away, pricking her ears just slightly to hear a newly formed conversation form behind her.
These friends they come and go but I got family family These kids so fast they grow They learn so quickly now But there's no where to go, but there's future future Don't make this seem so low And we can't overcome
And if you come from under that water then theres fresh air Just breathe baby, gods got a blessing to spare yes, i know the process has so much stress but its the progress that feels the best cause i came from the projects straight to success and your next, so try they cant steal your pride its inside then find it and keep on grinding cause in every dark cloud theres a silver lining I know...
yeah, yeah... yeah See... Right now we just riding on love And shine in the dark, we aint tryna do nothing be at the heart We need love, that's all now
You tie my hands, what am i gonna be What have i done so bad, what is my destiny You tie my hands, what am I going to see What have I done so bad, what am I gonna be
Born right here in the USA But due to tragedy, looked on by the whole world as a refugee So, accept my emotion, do not take it as an offensive gesture It's just the epitome of my soul And I must be me We got spirit y'all We go spirit We got soul y'all We got soul They don't want us to see, But we already know
Tie My Hands Lil Wayne and Robin Thicke
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Aug 7, 2008 14:40:34 GMT -8
Winters cannot be cruel. ~Pantheress~ For coldness is sadness and sadness cannot be savage. Only summers, heat, and rage can be cruel.
For those who fear the darkness... have no idea what light can do.
Pantheress felt the sun's fist upon her back; rays eating and distorting her fur. She wanted to retreat back into the shadows that awaited her in the depths of the forest beyond. She wanted to rid herself of the soul-devouring stares that were cast her direction. How easy it had been when the only one she had to look after was herself. She had never considered herself a leader. Oh sure, it was every Clam kit's dream when they were confined to the candied nursery's air. She had moved past that. Only a moon ago, she would of rather eaten fox dung than take on a role of leadership and commitment. How long had it been, when she had fled from Mistclan, that she was loathed and repulsed? Hated and left to riddance? The sun ate away her usual cover of shadows and darkness, indigo silence: her refuge from the sharpness of gazes and judging furrows in brows.
She shifted uncomfortably from paw to paw, her slender waist almost bursting as behind it her heart throbbed and screamed to retreat back to her refuge. Yes, only a moon ago, she would of rather eaten fox dung than take on a role of leadership and commitment. But she had changed. Now she felt an urge to help and protect these cats around her. To comfort their wounds and hush their cries of agony beneath ivory cobwebs. With the desire to protect mounting her senses, a new energy rose from the bowls of her shadowed heart. Pantheress scanned the clearing, letting her eyes wander and rest upon the two tribe cats before concluding that her words would not be overheard. She turned back to Bandit and almost widened her eyes as she was greeting with an unusual stare. Bandit looked away, awkwardness pulsing from his red cheeks beneath chalky fur. Pantheress cocked back one ear just slightly, pupils retreating back into her mind as she decided what to say.
"Don't you find it a little odd...?" Pantheress began, casting Bandit deep into her emerald abysses. "That the tribe cat - Damien - has similar markings to Seth? He is also built similar. I'm not sure where Seth came from, but I think there's a good chance he might be from a tribe as well. Simple rouges do not fight as rehearsed and accurately as he." Pantheress let her words drift into Bandit's azure tunnels, absorbing the letters and meanings like a milky sponge. She continued only when he met her eyes once more. "I wonder whether or not we can trust these cats. We have Fiver working with double loyalties. How do we know these cats are not doing the same? We should be cautious, just as a precaution. Just until we can be sure."
I do not believe in second chances. ~Damien~ I believe only in ignorance given by the naive.
Sleep was an unusually annoying fiend, especially when your heart began to beat once more and you found yourself drawn back toward your purpose. It was like being trapped, trapped beneath your own skin and blood. Bound in a cold maze of tunnels as your own fur chocked sunlight from the air. But as the pain was soothed, his will returned. So long as his heart pulsed, he had a mission: a mission that was not yet fulfilled. He had to complete it. It was the only thing that gave him a will and he needed a will to survive. Survival? No. His will drew him toward something that could kill him if he did not kill… it.
Damien felt his limbs slide back into his legs, as if his body was only a veil he needed to remain in contact to the world of the living. To be real: alive. He felt his whiskers twitch, sore muscles scream as the scents of the forest flowed into his nostrils. The cobwebs around his body made him feel stiff and sticky. He cocked his ears as the mews of cats dribbled into his head, and he opened his mouth to taste the musky, forest air. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know where he was. He was back in the Stone Hollow: the exact place he had been running away from. Fox Dung! he hissed behind his skull. Fala was there too. He could smell her sweet scent from mountains away. He wished that she would leave. He couldn’t stand facing her after letting his anger control him when they had asked the Clans for help. But the other cats… who were they? They had no Clan scent. Rogues, perhaps: loners? Kittypets? Don’t tell me the BloodGang was trying to recruit kittypets! He chucked inside his mind, flexing his limbs but keeping his eyes nailed shut. Yes, that was right. The BloodGang. He still had to kill his father: make him pay and suffer just as Damien had. The remaining Clanless cats must’ve created some sort of resistance. And placed right in the middle of Clan territory? At least he knew they weren’t being led by a kittypet: they weren’t idiots.
Perhaps this group could be formidable allies? He had ruined any alignment with the Clans, but these cats still stood a chance. He still stood a chance. Suddenly, he felt very happy to be in the Stone Hollow. He drew his lids over his eyes and peered through the windows. A sunbeam warmed his fur, a summer breeze ruffled his fur, but he hardly noticed. He needed to speak with these cats. Maybe, just maybe, with their help… he stood a chance at finally killing his father. But Seth wasn’t his father anymore. He was the enemy. An enemy soon to be vanquished.
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Post by Måø§† on Aug 7, 2008 17:22:08 GMT -8
Love grows by giving. The love we give away is the only love we keep. The only way to retain love is to give it away.
Zephyrs of tangy dandelion and sweet pine knitted their way through the hollow, breathing its soothing solace through the cool expanse of rock walls. Golden rays kissed each hair along the cats centered in mild conversations of distress and guidance. Pantheress spoke with uneasy glances at the cats around her, concern and anxiety grasping the edges of her voice. Bandit released her dour gaze, loitering within the many halls of his mind. Atlast he nodded, his frost-filled ocean blue eyes sharing the concern that fluttered around Pantheress, “We will be able to watch over them, make sure they stay true to their words. Although I doubt they would depart from our commitment, I should believe – or at least caution – that many of them would give up their place here if threatened by Bloodgang. As for Fiver, we must look for any signs of deception she might reveal towards us, I will not trust her like I do the others if you preffered,” his deep voice rang quietly between the two, making sure Pantheress was the only cat that could hear him.
The silver tabby cast a glance towards Damien, soaking in his color and resemblance towards their enemy. They rested momentarily on the black she-cat resting her dainty muzzle on the young toms flank. His eyes darted back towards Pantheress, poised with composure and control, “Their is a change they may be related. As for his battle skills, they are just as sharp as Fala: they come from a well-formed tribe.”
Fala soon found herself asleep, burying her muzzle into Damiens spotted fur deeper as dreams slipped in an out of her mind.
Ketare nudged Fala to her paws, his scarred maw and eyes proving his bravery against the dog he had died battling. His eyes were all but slits as he whipped his calico head towards the vast city beyond him. His white and black flank caught the suns glare so blindly that Fala had to wrench her eyes away from him for seconds. “Fala, she shares with you almost as much as you and I,” his voice swept through the tranquil air, ghosting away just as his image was. Fala cried out in terror, sorrow sweeping over her like an ocean of tar. She had lost her brother already, why did her time by his side have to recoil so often?
She jerked awake as the sun darkened. Distress bubbled up in her heart: he visited her every dream, always in the same dream, and always faded away before he could explain further. Wether he intended to ghost away or could not control it, he left Fala with the same words that had eaten its sense away. Beneath her Damien stirred just slightly, his eyes observing the scene infront of him. A purr hammered its way through Fala's chest as she retreated from him; letting go of the warmth and comfort he gave her as she slept, even if he couldn't restrain her dreams.
To the world you might be one person. But to one person you might be the world.
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Aug 8, 2008 0:25:14 GMT -8
Without yin... ~Damien~ There would be no yang.
Without salt, There would be no sea.
Without sky, There would be no earth.
Without fire, There would be no growth.
Without war, There would be no peace.
Without death... There would be no life.
Fala had been dreaming, Damien noticed. Her eyes were troubled and her heart beat faster that it should for any sleeping cat. For only moments after her awakening, her face was distorted in confusion and fear. But when she caught his eyes, everything else disappeared: all emotions, all worries. A purr rose from her chest, but Damien's face was solemn and focused: expressionless. He already knew what was to come. He needed to form an alliance, check status on his Seth's whereabouts, and decide the best way to contact the Clans without his appearance. The days had drawn too close to battle for him to do this alone. He needed help if he wanted to get even tail-lengths from his father. He struggled to find footing with his stiff limbs and aching body. He felt newly-healed flesh stir beneath his bandages, the tearing of fur. He paid it no mind. He had determination hardening his heart.
He tried his best to pad forward steadily, but every few steps he wobbled and his head would duck in and out of dark waves. But he raised his chin and set his ears forward. He could already tell who were the leaders. They crouched - a handsome albino tabby-tom and a stunning black she-cat - beneath one of the many large stones standing guard 'round the clearing. He was immune to the curious gazes crashing his way, not looking back to see if Fala was following but forward to the two regal cats. He stopped just in front of them, wobbled, straightened, raised his azure eyes, and lowered his haunches to the earth. He drew his paws close to his chest to keep his posture straightened. He ignored the she-cat's startled stare as his condition prayed upon his ability to walk and stand. "My name is Damien," he began, swallowing in his sandpaper throat. "And I have some information that may help you."
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Post by Måø§† on Aug 8, 2008 13:39:05 GMT -8
THE stars about the lovely moon Fade back and vanish very soon, When, round and full, her silver face Swims into sight, and lights all space. Lifting her head delicately from Damien's flank, Fala watched impassively as he limped over towards both Bandit and Pantheress. Despite his state, he was strong and unafraid. Something had changed during his fight, in which he matured more than Fala could have hoped. Pain gripped her side as she realized she enjoyed the old Damien better, the carefree tom always finding excuses for taking risks. Sighing she stared at her friend, torment throbbing in her chest, pining away from the expectations she had given him that were slowly withering away. Bandit flashed a glance towards the newly awaken tom-cat. The spotted cats rough throat and forced words brought him to consciousness: he would have to soak some extra moss. But Damien's words brought other meaning. Bandit exchanged a glance with Pantheress, "I suppose you have figured out who we are?" a rhetorical question, "you are welcome to share the information, but I would rather you presented it in better shape. Water perhaps?" Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow-- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.
-Edgar Allen Poe
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Post by Silver on Aug 8, 2008 13:52:47 GMT -8
Match sat down grudingly. Feeling a bit more confident, he began to give himself a through wash; something he probably hadn't done since his fight with Fiver. Once he was finished, he watched 'Fala' carefully. She was strange; she didn't smell like the forest, or the kittypets and loners. No, she had the half-dead tom were very strange indeed. And suddenly, the tom lurched to his feet and stumbled over to Panthress and Bandit. Something kitish rose in him, and he mewed, "So he gets to move around and I don't? He's nothing but a mangled mess of fur!" However, the second he said it, he wished he could take it back. He stood tall, waiting for some tart comeback
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Aug 8, 2008 14:29:06 GMT -8
He who bears the weight of the world on his shoulders ~Damien~ Has no greater fate then to be crushed by the world's weight.
'You are welcome to share the information, but I would rather you presented it in better shape. Water perhaps?'
Damien hesitated. His information to the water seemed hardly comparable. He could tell that the tom - Bandit? - underestimated his capabilities at the moment. Damien couldn't blame him. If he saw himself now he would hardly think himself presentable. Damien's eyes traced a scar along Bandit's muzzle. "Yes. Please," he croaked. The black she-cat - Pantheress? - turned and trotted to the base of a stone upon weightless paws. She removed a hunk of moss and soaked it throughly in a small puddle. She returned with the moss carried gently between her barbed teeth. Pantheress placed the moss at Damien's paws and took stance one more at Bandit's side.
Damien's course tongue dabbed at the moss, claiming every drop. He rasped his tongue around his muzzle, feeling his swollen throat decline, and returned to his sitting position with his handsome chest pushed ahead and his paws closely placed to his body. He swallowed, feeling the cool water gush down into his insides.
"The only thing to be sure about Seth is that he has as much mercy as a stone," Damien began, shifting his paws. "He used to belong to the Tribe of Soaring Eagles: my tribe. He led a revolution against our tribe's leader, splitting our community in half and pinning kin against kin. His real ambition was to make himself leader, but his selfishness led our tribe into a dark, bloody war within itself. In the end, our leader managed to defeat Seth and banish him. But I knew, I think we all did, that Seth's ambition for blood would not cease within our mountains. "We found out, many moons later, that Seth had taken up residence beside a forest, and was creating a new group: The BloodGang. We (well, mostly Fala) felt as if it was our fault that Seth would begin praying on the Clans in the forest; we needed to warn them. Our tribe leader refused to believe we needed to interfere with Seth's games. He was other cats problem now. "So me and Fala traveled here. We managed to warn the Clans," he winced at the memory of the night, "but I'm not sure they are fully prepared to take Seth on. I know now, as do you, that he has expanded his forces by recruiting other cats. He has many troops, and is very powerful. Your only hope now is to try and form an alliance with the Clans. I know Seth also. I know how he thinks. And I have the slightest feeling that he is planning something truly horrible. He does not obey any code of honor. He plays by his own rules."
Damien paused for a second after his speech, letting his words echo around the clearing and into the ears of Pantheress and Bandit as well as the small crowd that had formed and was listening intently. "There's one more thing," Damien spoke numbly, feeling uncomfortable beneath all the stares. "A prophecy: "When the moon shines red, a new alliance will be formed, and a leader will rise. Those who live beneath the oaks, among the rolling hills, between the tall pines and murk, and among the darkness, shall be threatened. First will come the jaws. Then will come the claws. Any resistance must align with the trees or both will suffer beneath the rule of crimson eyes. Nothing is as it seems. Fear is the root of all evil."
The clearing fell into silence as, once more, Damien struggled to decipher the prophecy's meaning. And kin will kill kin when the time comes...
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Post by Måø§† on Aug 8, 2008 20:24:50 GMT -8
The woods are lovely dark and deep But I have promises to keep And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep -Robert Frost
The murky depths of night slipped between the thin cracks of time as evening crept through. Pale violet, the sky deemed a wary fight yet to come. Bandit's silky fur shone a luminescent silver as his jaw clenched and an expressionless facade curved flawlessly over his icy eyes and thin lips. Bandit absorbed each of Damien's words; paying close attention to the prophecy. His eyes became slits as he tried to make sense of the words that read themselves over and over in his mind. Fear is the root of all evil. Although endless gaps revealed themselves within the prophecy, logic won over portions.
Those who live beneath the oaks, among the rolling hills, between the tall pines and murk, and among the darkness, shall be threatened. Represented the Clans and any rogue or loner sheltered by the forest. Any resistance must align with the trees or both will suffer beneath the rule of crimson eyes. "I understand we must form an alliance with the Clans, I will take care of this," Bandit had befriended Echoclan for moons before leaving, surely they would trust him, or at least understand. Bandit believed what Damien claimed about Seth, Bloodgang would show no mercy. And the resemblance between Seth and Damien became clearer and more relevant. Seth had once been part of the Tribe of the Soaring Eagles; blood-related cats seemed prominent. In which circled back to Seth's stone-mercy - he would attack one of his old tribe, a kin?
Bandit met the pained gaze of the slim she-cat behind Damien, her beautiful green eyes ravishing yet hurt. She looked at him with anger now; she wanted a fight. The fervent passion and fearlessness that overwhelmed her suddenly appeared much like the she-cat by his side. Both seemed so poised, guarded, independent. Was there any way...Bandit pushed the striking thought to the back of his mind. There were myriad's' of things for him to do. He would gather a small patrol of two more cats to visit Echoclan while Pantheress started preparations for training. The cats here would learn from both he and Pantheress, perhaps Fala. They would learn to defend themselves, and strike back.
No bird soars too high If he soars with his own wings -William Blake
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Post by Torn on Aug 10, 2008 1:54:50 GMT -8
Shadows stood proud as they guarded the trees with their darkness. The moon shone out, taking the suns place as it rested. Trees slumbered in the still breeze. So normal, a ritual that nature performed every day, yet the forest had never seen anything like this before.
The young she-cat looked around the clearing, observing the cats that seemed to be taking the lead. Pantheress and Bandit. The 'Tribe' cats, black she-cat Fala and tom Damien. The prophecy that he talked about... It was confusing. She'd never heard one, or even heard of them before this. But she guessed it was a fore-telling, like something that was happening. Very vague. A bit too vague?
"When the moon shines red, a new alliance will be formed, and a leader will rise. Those who live beneath the oaks, among the rolling hills, between the tall pines and murk, and among the darkness, shall be threatened. First will come the jaws. Then will come the claws. Any resistance must align with the trees or both will suffer beneath the rule of crimson eyes. Nothing is as it seems. Fear is the root of all evil."
Even Damien, the giver of the prophecy, looked as though he was working it out. The first part made sense... a new alliance will be formed when a red moon rose. Red moons? Maybe it meant red moon in another way, because Mimi had never seen a red moon. The cats in the oaks, tall pines, hills and darkness. Echoclan lived in darkness, so presumably the other cats the prophecy mentioned were the rest of the Clans. They were being threatened. Any resistance? That was this, all these loners together, The Resistance. But how did they 'align with the trees'? She shook her head, mind buzzing. It was late and she was getting too tired to think. She retired a little bit to a clump of ferns, then lay down in the middle, the long fronds shielding her from main view.
As she closed her eyes, she couldn't sleep. Thoughts of the prophecy, of the Clans and most of all, BloodGang kept running through her head.
How is the prophecy supposed to help if no cat understands?
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Aug 13, 2008 15:36:42 GMT -8
Revenge... ~Pantheress~ Is the only poison that you create within yourself.
Revenge has no more quenching effect on emotions than salt water has on thirst. -Walter Weckler
Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavor, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been intoxicated. -Charlotte Bronte
'When the moon shines red, a new alliance will be formed, and a leader will rise. Those who live beneath the oaks, among the rolling hills, between the tall pines and murk, and among the darkness, shall be threatened. First will come the jaws. Then will come the claws. Any resistance must align with the trees or both will suffer beneath the rule of crimson eyes. Nothing is as it seems. Fear is the root of all evil.'
Pantheress felt almost benumbed, drained, as the last words echoed off into the dipping branches above. She shivered as if a wintry breeze had suddenly taken to the shallow gaps between sunbeams. She found the same effect had overtaken every cat in the clearing. It was a prophecy, without a doubt. Pantheress had never heard one before, but this is how she imagined one sounding. A chilling contamination to the air. The words of the present and future swirling from Damien's tongue like an eerie melody of the unknown. She swallowed, her throat feeling parched as if she had been the one just speaking the words. The forest fell into a grieving silence, the birds stopping their twittering and the leaves their rustling. It was like the complete, sorrowful air that filled the forest after the final cry of a murder.
But it wasn't the words of the prophecy that overtook her into a state of disturbance. Nor the menacing melody or teeth-grinding, claw-wrenching silence that followed. It was the look in Damien's eyes. A glisten of venom in his azure windows. Pantheress knew that look. She had seen it so many times before behind her own emerald optics. It was the craving desire for vengeance. It was the numbing effects of revenge. She felt fear. Searing, tingling fear burning her paws and making her mind shutter and spin. The sockets at the back of her eyes felt as if shards of glass had inserted themselves. She reclaimed her breath, feeling her blood turn black like her fur. Damien wanted to kill Seth. She didn't even have to guess. He wanted the crimson-eyed cat to lie lifeless at his paws. Pantheress shook her head and narrowed her eyes. She remembered what it was like to be shrouded by the barbed mists of revenge. She wondered what Seth had done to Damien that placed the venom inside his gaze.
Feeling a sudden urge to soothe the venom, Pantheress decided that Damien would be too dangerous to himself and others to be fueled by revenge as he was helping them fight. He would be blinded in the heart of battle, and thus, he would be destroyed from the inside out. I must speak to him. I think I can help him overcome it...
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Post by bella on Aug 13, 2008 22:16:30 GMT -8
((wait is this the gathering thread? i can't tell and i really just need some where to post.))
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