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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Jan 1, 2009 23:05:20 GMT -8
They say that when you fall asleep in the snow, you sleep forever.
Dark clouds descended high above the heads of the pines, a swirling, toxic potion that brought nightmares singing down, down, down, where they landed on the earth, erected, and crawled into consciousness. Blood ran cold that day. Mud splattered the pelts of the awaiting cats, no longer could they tell the difference between Stoneclan and Dawnclan, kittypet or rogue. It was all one horrible dream, and they were trapped in it together.
The black she-cat crouched beneath a juniper bush, all sense of dignity sunk down into the mud she squatted in. It was wrong, all wrong. Yet nature has a funny way of adapting when death is on the line. Blinking gathering rain from her eyes, Pantheress kept her ears pricked, and her muscles coiled. The vortex swirled with hues of green, brown, and darkness. Eyes tilted toward the sky, the moon shone a vibrant vermillion, as if promising a new liquid with which to wash the soggy Mistclan grounds.
***
Rain tricked down Seth's coat like the fingers of a lover, his muscular stature rising from the earth like an ivory stature, a stone in his heart. They had positioned themselves in an area where no cat could use scent to find their enemies. Cursing the Clan cats, he thought of Fiver, the small she-cat he had saved from the dogs. Gazing into the blazing eyes of his comrade, Scarface, Seth suddenly wished he had left her to the teeth. Claws long and black, Seth forced himself up into a pine, watching as his soldiers did the same. He swished his tail; the time had come. The forest would be his.
***
Back in the BloodGang camp, a fence door was opened. The kittypets began their role in the attack. Lead the dogs to the Clans, that was all. Yet as the first blackened nose appeared into the open, Ginger felt death hot on her paws. She ran. The ground slipped beneath her paws like clouds beneath the wings of a bird. Run, run, run. If they catch you.... they'll kill you. Ginger felt mud gush around her paws as the kittypets emerged into some kind of swamp, the murderous howls of dogs shrieking behind them. The mud gushed around her paws, trapping her. And as Ginger noticed many pelts hidden beneath juniper bushes, did she realize that her purpose had been served. And thus, she collapsed into the mud. But the words still spun round in her mind. Run, run, run. If they catch you.... they'll kill you.
The End Has Begun.[/center][/font]
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Post by L a m b on Jan 2, 2009 9:47:42 GMT -8
Bone shatters fall apart and hit the floor. If it doesn't thrill you it doesn't matter anymore, Bone shatter, No matter where you been or who you are, If it doesn't kill you it shouldn't leave a horrible scar. You'll never stop me you know it's everything to me. We'll never stop cuz we're only getting better.
If you feel so empty So used up, so let down If you feel so angry So ripped off so stepped on You're not the only one Refusing to back down You're not the only one So get up Let's start a riot
The devil has drawn his bow, tuned his fiddle The bow strikes the strings, sounding with hellish screams and with an eerie smile, you know this is gonna last a while
Sun tainted optic held the look of insanity, knowning finally he could kill, watch the stupid little felidae squirm in fear, their bodies twitching under his claws. His rat tail was still, for once, oh so still. His optic landed on Seth, and his lips drew back to reveal the gleaming ivories in his mug, sinister smile playing over his hairless facade. Ebonite claws unsheathed from their mangled pads. Seth's crimson optics could barely be seen as he raced up the leafless skeletal trees. Skull swung around to look through the mass of cats for Cheetah, the she-cat no longer had the kits, they were hidden back at the bus. Her ivory form was being pushed up one of the storm colored trees. With the stealth of a murder the demented cat turned, and with the ease of a snake, slithered up the tree nearest him. One golden optic glitning in the rain, the other empty socket, the dark hole, that looked out over the woods..
.Rubblefur. The snow-hued grey specked she-cat sat within teh rank of the warriors, the tenseness in the air rising. Daring to consume the earth, and the mind of all teh cats that sat so tense. Different hued optics watched the shadowed the world, audits lacing back as the smell of canines ranked through them...The long furred felidae leaped with ease to her paws, light-hued claws extended. Ivories bore. Yet, she still crouched below the bushes, no one was sure waht to do with the canines..But the dogs were sure. Their vrimson stained ivories hung agape, dark optics flashing in the crimson light...Death was here.
.Fiver. Despite the protests of many felidae the Wounded She-cat lay hidden near the medicine cats, Frostfeather's form being the closest. Light emerald optics glaring ot into the wretched night, knowning the horror that awaited the Clans, the loners, rouges, kittypets...They would all fight, they were out numbered..They would lose..No, they couldn't..audits laced back, she was like a statue. The cold glint in her optics never leaving, knowing that out there the grotesque forms of the felidae aly in wait..To kill, with pleasure. Their lttle friends, would be here soon, to snap every neck they could find...Seth..Seth..He needed to die, didn't he? Had too..But what about Bloodgang, didn't they have kits..With anger the thoughts were pushed away they all had to die..
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Post by Silver on Jan 2, 2009 16:44:16 GMT -8
It's a waiting game, can't you see? They're waiting for us You're waiting for me Breathing... what seemed so loud now might be silent in the next few tense moments. Cinderstar crouched ahead of the others, as if frozen in time. Frozen... like a statue, waiting for that moment when the ice will break, and all hell will break loose. When the wrath of every cat will be brought forth. Her fluttering heart pulsed in her ears, her unwavering grey-blue eyes stared, fixed ahead, at the empty battlefield. Her tail, sitting in the still air, ready to send the signal that would end lives and create destinies. The fate of the Clans... of every creature in the forest relyed upon the outcome of this battle. The Clans were far to small to survive apart... how hard they would fall if BloodClan won... but Cinderstar refused to think about such thoughts, focusing on the breathing of others... Dawnclan and Stoneclan, Mistclan and Echoclan, deputies and warriors, frightened apprentices and loners, all joined for this epic battle... all ever so softly breathing, never betraying their presence.
Match watched Fiver not with the young eyes of a cat his age. He watched her with the steely eyes of one protecting the one he loved, protecting his friends, his adopted family. The sick and the elderly surrounded him, including an old Mistclan elder who was tensed, sweeping his eyes across the crowd of cats, a pretty she-cat that smelled of neither here, nor there, but of a land far away, and of course, Alley. His tail tap, tapped against the dry ground that might be wet with blood. As he lifted his maw to scent the air, he recoiled, ears slicked back and lips drawn back in a snarl. Dogs. They very ones that had almost killed Fiver... how he longed to join the ones in battle, but he could not seperate himself from Fiver. Besides, the Clan cats needed him... needed someone, anyone, who would protect the less fortunate, who would be fit enough to aid the medicine cats when the survivors returned. Closing his hardened eyes, he imagined, for the first time in a long, long while, what his family was doing now. [/size]
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Post by Måø§† on Jan 11, 2009 11:32:06 GMT -8
Bandit Some people are so afraid to die that they never begin to live.
Thick fear folding its plague of fog over each tense movement, enveloping each whisker in silent battle anticipation. Breathe so quite, barely whispering over the mornings cracking dead leaves. Bandits belly slid over dampened earth, each paw moving gingerly over ant-sized twigs, leveling his balance and beating heart. He led the Resistance through chilled undergrowth, hoping what was left of the desiccated plants would cover their mud-stained pelts. Before him, the shivering light of day winked through the gaps of bracken and thorn, tempting cats to draw forward. Clouds loomed threateningly over the sullen meadow they approached, bruised purple with heavy condensation daring to fall at any moment. Beside him, four Clan leaders tread with ease over the moist earth, moons of practice rising from their cautiously lifted paws.
The Resistance had trained strenuously over the last half moon, improving with swiftness. Bandit had concluded that each member would pose a primary threat towards the rivaling blood gang. Yet he knew many members would succumb to a terror invoked death, honorable death all the same.
Fala So come along, it wont be long 'Til we return happy Shut your eyes, there are no lies In this world we call sleep Let's desert this day of hurt Tomorrow we'll be free
Thorns gripped her sleek mud-rolled pelt, tearing malignantly at her flank and back. Ears craned forwards, she listened for any hint of cats across the clearing, but with no success curled backwards with frustration. Beside her, a young tiger-striped tom pulled ahead, whiskers twitching with anticipation. Damien. Loss and anger curdled deep in her chest, he had changed so much since they had first set off on their moon-consuming journey. He had gone from acquaintance during their time at the tribe, to friend, and now…she shivered, a stranger within a familiar friend. Fala’s eyes darted towards his, studying his intense gaze ahead. Luring her thoughts back to the critical and prominent dangers, she focused on the looming war ahead of her. She wanted it to be over, for this she anticipated the fight.
As the group slowed, she could feel Bandit’s gaze burning through her flank. Eyes thinning, she felt him studying her, trying to piece her together for the umpteenth time. Whipping her head towards his, she met his gaze with a threatening glare. Yet he kept his eyes on hers, curiosity penetrating through his stone-like façade. At last he turned his head to signal his group was ready, exchanging glances with each of the four Clan leaders.
Silverstar The truth in what you stand for unfolds during battle, the rest is forgotten.
Silverstar recalled the laborious tasks their Clan had set to do. They had trained and practiced. Each warrior reviewed fighting and defense techniques in-between hunting and border patrols. As the moons turned an iridescent shade of pale blood red, they had gathered honestly with all four Clans and the Resistance. Silverstar recalled the 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.
So much of it had become clear, all of the Clans and the resistances had aligned. There would be teeth; First will come the jaws. There would be fighting; will come the claws. And blood gangs attack, no matter how power evoked and revenge thirsted was rooted with fear…of what?
Silverstar recounted her lives. With each loss she had become wiser, more powerful. With each life she was closer to her final days. Eight lives. Eight lives she had lost. It was her final, and if she died she knew it would be for the most important of reasons.
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Jan 12, 2009 20:24:44 GMT -8
Darkness comes, yet does it stay? 'Til the breaking of the day? And only then shall night stray Into the light An endless fright A harrowing sight To the ceaseless, bloody, E.nd...... WE FIGHT!!!
Hell broke through the crust of the earth, and heaven stained black with ink. An inky mist chocked felidae from the pelts of the cats in this forest. This was wrong... so wrong. The creatures below were no longer cat. They were something far worse. They were M'an. The blundering shapes of the dogs broke into the swamp, their noses raped of scents, and their eyes clogged shut with mud. They snapped out blindly in the swamp, and Damien smiled beneath his breath. Their plan had worked!
Damien leapt onto the back of a dog, his brawny arms scoring the side of the dog, drawing yelps of pain from it's mug. The dog lashed out madly, he could feel fear rushing from it's pelt like waves. The dog tripped and descended into the mud, head sinking below the murky surface, where it's own weight dragged it deeper. Damien crawled from the mud, the silence of the dog in the water echoing through the forest louder than any scream. Shapes burst fourth from the bushes, dragging the dogs down into their sucking dooms. The large bodies disappearing beneath the mud so perfectly, it was as if they had been swallowed by the swamp itself.
His muzzle twisted into a smirk of madness not too far from his father's, Damien proceeded into the undergrowth of dry land flanked by the shapes of hundreds more. And as cats began to fall from the trees, and comrades covered in mud emerged from the swamp, Damien felt his heart shudder with excitement. The battle had begun.
Time after time, I lose again. Night after night, I wake up shaking cause my world is breaking. I’m fool enough to fail again. Night after Night, I wake up crying cause I feel like dying.
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Post by Torn on Jan 13, 2009 10:38:06 GMT -8
Her heart hammered louder than any battle cry as the small, cream figure crouched behind a tangle of brambles. Her blue eyes shone out from behind the browns and dark greens of the bush, full of fear, and sadness also. But not for herself...
Mimi's gaze was dragged over to where Match stood across the clearing from her, near Fiver. He wasn't leaving her. She hoped it wouldn't get him killed. Shutting her eyes, she breathed out shakily. Fear for him, for herself, for Fiver, for everyone coursed through her. She didn't know how the warriors managed it, every day. She looked over to where a big, dark tabby tom crouched, his tail lashing and his teeth bared. He was just raring for a fight.
That only made her heart flutter all the more. Until the dog came, and her heart stopped altogether.
But only for a second. She gasped, and turned to run, then steeled her nerves in time to turn around, watching with wide blue eyes as it snapped and leapt around. But then only more came. The blood pounded in her ears, totally deafening as she jumped forward towards a dog that was picking on Shell, and darted underneath, through the legs and clawed at it's belly. It howled, and snapped, jumping back towards her.
The fight became a twirling dance of life and death.
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Ridge's long claws scored deep ruts in the ash branch in the tree that he had climbed. He'd led some cats around the side, keeping just ahead of the dogs. They'd attack them too, he was reminded as a savage snarl ripped through the air, like it did to the fur of a warrior below them. His cold laugh rippled forward, muffled by thick branches.
Excitement and glee filled him from head to claw with adrenalin, the deep desire to leap down and rip his talon's through the pelts of his enemies. But it wasn't time. So he focused on singling out the weaker ones. Young apprentices, elders, inexperienced loners, terrified escaped kittypets, and that cream she-cat from the Twolegplace. He had a score to settle with her. His claws narrowed into razor sharp points as he slashed left, right, left, right.
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Shivers racked White's body as the desperately skinny body lay in the tree. She might as well have been a white leaf, fluttering in the wind. Green slits showed anything and everything. Life was too raw to hide anything now. Pain held her down, and numbing anger beat at her skin. Treepaw's side pressed against hers, warming one side slightly. But the warmth from his strong body was sapped out again, replaced by the cold.
She could only watch as cats were felled. But dogs were too. BloodClan waited in the trees, whispers of fear and agression sparked up the atmosphere, until the point came when you could almost feel the tension prickling down your spine. The screams of the wounded, the yowls of battling cats and the howls of dogs just circled around her.
Her heart twisted with the only pity it was capable of as she watched them die underneath her.
(Sorry, bad time to have writer's block. But I'm back! Yay... new computer.)
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Post by Silver on Jan 19, 2009 13:34:10 GMT -8
(Aww... time to kill Sootclaw... no more mentor for Treepaw >D And no way! I gots a new comp too And, Cinderstar is attacking Ridge if you can't tell >.>)
Cinderstar When she felt she could no longer stand the tension, the fear scent clogging her senses, Cinderstar rose to her paws. With a simple flick of her tail, a movement she so commonly used to send her Clan pouring into the Gathering, now sent dozens to their doom below. A demonic hiss echoed in the night air as she flung herself into the fry. For a moment, she was lost in the sea of pelts, unsure who was .friend or foe. A soft noise made her whirl, her icey eyes feverently flicking up into a scarred ash tree. A gasp escaped her as a dark figure leaped down, eyes gleeming madly. Without another thought, Cinderstar flung herself at the rouge, who was attacking a cream kittypet. "Savage!" she whispered, clamping her teeth down on the soft flesh of his ear, while her claws seeked purchase on his face. A rage she had rarely known before filled her as she fought for a strangers life... for a kittypet. SootclawThere. Sootclaw was lurching forward before Cinderstar's tail had finished moving. He was a black blur as he raced into the battle, blood poudning in his ears while his claws tore up the ground. As the stench of dog rolled into him, nearly knocking him over, Sootclaw noticed Damien drowning a beast in the Mistclan swamp. He opened his maw to let out a yowl of victory, or maybe a battle cry, something clamped onto his scruff. Horror filled him as he struggled uslessly in the dogs jaws and it viciously shook him back and forth. The dog howled when he raked his back paws against it's chest, his frontal claws swiping blindy at the dog's face. Without warning, Sootclaws was thrown, a loud, hollow thump! resounding through the air as he collided with a tree. Pain exploded behind his clouded eyes, and his breath came in ragged gasps. For a brief moment, Sootclaw thought he could see Treepaw, cowering beside a white she-cat. So this is where you've been... I've been looking all of for you. At least my apprentice is safe... he thought, before the dog came at him again, mercilessly slamming him into the tree again and again. Sootclaw weakly fought back, but the huge brute took no notice of the blood. As the life drained from the beraggled black cat, he wished feverently that Frostfur and Treepaw would be ok... that the Clans would emerge victorious. He closed his eyes against the pain, listening to the sound of battle echoing around him...
(GAH that was horrible >.<)[/blockquote]
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Post by L a m b on Jan 23, 2009 20:20:15 GMT -8
These clouds were seeing they're expolsions in the sky It seems it's written, but we can't read between the lines When it's eachother we despise Dang, the government, Dang, their killing Dang, their lies
When all the power is thrown to you what will you do
Golden optic watched, watched, Canines, flashing, killing..Killing..His bloodlust grew, longing surged through him..Then, the felidae around him streamed down, but he waited...Waited...Sun tinted optic fell upon the form of Cheetah, her bod' pulsing, it was almost near hsi tree. Ivory pads were shifted, he slithered down, pads touching the whispering grass, the drk hole, that was once an optic, seemed to glow crimson, freflecting the moon. Rat-like tail gently curled over his love, who in return licked his furless ear, before side by side, they set off. Claws unsheathed, Optics glowing in fury, longing, Cheetah's flickering with slight doubt, until Scarface's bod' was once again felt upon her... Turning as one, The two cats fell upon the warriors that lay hidden in the bushes. Cheetah's lean bod' dancing around in around, herding the felidae closer to Scarface, who continnually slashed one after another with his daggered claws..
.Fiver.
Match's presence so near, feeling is wish to fight, but hid need to protect. Form was shifted, and with lacking strength, the young she-cat uneasily lifted herself from the earth, one leg bandaged so mcuh that it looked like the trunk of a bush. Mug was aloud to part, and cracking lyrics lit the air... "Match...d-Don't let them kill..." Lyrics faded away, as optics closed, the effort to talk still brought pain to her bod', and it was of great annoyance, she fell back to earth...Emerald optics blinked up regretfully, knowing that she could not tell him what she wanted to say, there were innocent lives being force to fight, that the Clan cats didn't know aoubt, and would more than likely kill...
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Post by ♫ E§he ♥ on Jan 24, 2009 15:30:26 GMT -8
Battle cries cut through the forest like the wrong notes off a violin. A chill was sent through the forest, prey hid in their holes, and birds left by the wind. The only other creature in the forest beside the cats who dared to move about were the crows, who perched silently on askew branches, and watched as the scent of blood began to overpower the damp sweetness of the Mistclan marsh.
Damien padded silently through the undergrowth, flanked by a shadow who once or twice because real, before vanishing once more into the darkness. Azure eyes searching the battlefield for his father, Damien felt his blood slowly drifting through his veins. Then, there he was. Seth was standing upon a tall stone off to the side of the battle, crying out orders and slaughtering the faces of any cat who tried to pull him down. A sickening smile bent down the left lower part of Seth's mug. A growl purred deep within Damien's tattered heart, and he started forward into the fray.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Pantheress's ebony tail curled 'round Damien's chest and ceased his amble forward. Her emerald eyes hummed with concern, and she studied him intently. "Yes," Damien replied. "It's what I need to do." Pantheress nodded, "I trust you. And I'm here. If we're going to bring down Seth, we need to do it together." She pressed her nose into his fur, and caressed her tongue across his cheek. Damien's heart fluttered, and he felt the fear that was building up inside him slowly tumble back down. "Thank you," he smiled, returning the touch. "Now let's end this."
And together, they stepped into the storm.
~~~
Wrenstar felt herself dancing through the war, traveling from one cat to the next. Her paws caught in a ceaseless slashing motion, as she swirled 'round to the melody of yowls and cries of agony. Her golden fur glowed brightly beneath the vermillion moon, bloodlust in her heart, and scarlet paint staining her fur. How long could this battle last? A claw ripped through the air and cut her deeply across the forehead. A yowl of torment slipped between her lips, caught up at once with the other throng of sounds swirling invisibly through the night in a fog. Lashing out, she struck the cat across the neck, who cried out and vanished into the sea of moving bodies. Blood dripped into her eyes. Wrenstar couldn't see.
Stumbling into the undergrowth, and out of the battle, Wrenstar desperately tried to wipe the blood from her stinging eyes. Suddenly there was someone beside her. "Who's there?!" Her cry sounded hysterical. Scenting the air, Wrenstar recognized the scent, although it was very faint beneath the mud that coated the cat's fur. Eyes pinched shut, Wrenstar reached out her paw to feel the cat who had come to her aid. But the cat moved away from her, his breaths becoming ragged and excited. Something was wrong.
Wrenstar began to back away. Her heart thundered beneath her golden pelt. Suddenly, a strong blast of BloodGang scent filled the air, and it was apparent that whoever was with her had just rolled in BloodGang scent. "What are you doing!?" Wrenstar gasped, but her cry was cut short as a claw ripped through the thin laver between her skin and her throat.
Lungs filling with blood, Wrenstar gagged and lost her balance. She lay splayed out upon the earth, the life slowly leaking out of her. She finally knew who it was. "You," she rasped. "But.... why?" "Simple," replied the tom. "Seth's forest will be filled with no more battles. It will be equality between the Clans. His vision is of a better life. But the Clans are too proud to admit this. How do you think the BloodGang got such knowledge about the trees in Mistclan? I've been helping them the entire time, and you and the other leaders have been too blind to see."
A life slipped between Wrenstar's toes, and she sat in a starry clearing before waking up again. But before she had time to react, the blow came again. And again. Lives poured out of Wrenstar like golden dew. But between each she was at least able to udder a breath. "Swiftrunner.... kits...... Night....... loner....... Longstride knows........" And in the end, it took only six lives to murder Wrenstar. She had been a young leader, full of hope and promise. Her lioness-like stature lay elegantly upon the ferns, and her eyes of sunshine lay glazed to the red moon above. Her body jerked only once, as her last silver string slipped into the sea. And the lioness went dancing into the stars.
And the murder had struck unseen.
~~~
Copperfur padded quietly through the Mistclan ferns. His olive hues turned toward the red moon as he padded back to the Medicine Cats. In his jaws he gripped several stalks of marigold. But someone rushed through the ferns toward him, and Copperfur turned his head toward the approacher. "Copperfur!" The Echoclan warrior - one who had been left behind to guard the camp - seemed relieved to see him. "Swiftrunner's started her kitting!" Copperfur nodded urgently, "I'll go back to camp right away. I'm sure Frostfeather needs to stay behind the treat the wounded."
The Echoclan warrior spoke to Copperfur as they bounded back to camp. "Why are your paws covered with blood?" "I got attacked by a BloodGang cat," Copperfur responded. But for the rest of the return trip, his eyes were slightly darkened.
'Madness is like gravity. All it needs is a little push.'
-The Dark Knight
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Post by L a m b on Jan 24, 2009 16:39:24 GMT -8
you feel so lonely and ragged Cheetah my love is a burning, consuming fire
I want to say what can not be said
Icy optics caught the flash of ivory fur running through the forests. Turning to face it, only to find the felidae that the fur belonged to was leaping upon her. Claws dipped down into her flesh, sending streaks of crimson down her back, as the felidae upon her forced her down...Down..Mud, pressed into nares, struggling..Cheetah wasn't built to fight, she was built for speed, the other felidae was easily holding down her struggling body. BReath was becoming harder and harder to get, lung began filling with the muck that seeped into her nares. Gasping, another weak shove, than her grand sun dotted bod' stopped moving..Optics closed, and an eerie blackness engulfed her mind. Voices of a million cats called out to her, telling her to follow..Yowling for her to listen, but above it all audits heard the sound of Scarface's lyrics, they called out to her, singing, singing..
my love is a burden consumed in fire Scarface No, you'll never be alone when darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
This world was doomed from the start
Golden optic, was torn away as the onslaught of cats momentarily stopped. It fell slowly, and painfully upon the small form of Cheetah crushed down into the earth. Yowl of sorrow erupted from the normally emtionless felidae. Jaw was left open in a silent cry, as furless pads carried him across the clearing bathed in crimson. Skull bowed as it pressed gengtly to teh she-cat's ivory furred chest. Her breath was still there..It was shallow, so shallow. Optic whipped around to find the felidae who had done it, and fell upon the form that forever haunted his mind... "SISTER" Lyrics cracked the air, thundering over the yowling of fighting cats, over the cries of pain..So that ever cat in the clearing and beyond, could hear the one word that connected light and dark, the demon and the angel...
Brother, my brother tell me what are we fighting for we've got to end this war we should love one another oh, can't we just pretend this war never began Rubblefur we're not as different as we seem to be there's so much more to me than what you see
The small ivory, grey dotted kit, cried out as her mother slashed her claws down her brother's pelt, in an attempt to save him, she reached out only to be pushed away..Watching helplessly as he tumbled away from her.
"brother..." Delicate lyrics barely rising above a whipser. different hued optics, gently looked into his optic. Paw was shifted to take an astonished step towards him, but she stopped, staring into his soulless eye, and seeing the hate that burned there...
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Post by mking on Jan 25, 2009 6:29:21 GMT -8
In the center of a battle, fear ripping into your very core. Warriors fall, Their courage they gave. Take upon their vengance, Do not let their memories die at the grave. Your wounds will bleed, Soon they'll heal. Call upon their courage, Ad face the oppentent of blood-shed guilt.
Duskpaw cowered away from the maze of pelt, teeth, and claw. Her thoughts swirled as yowls and painful cries rang out, cats fell before her eyes, opening them wider to the comsuming battle of hatred and battle. Searching around for her mentor, DuskPaw tried to remain hidden, but so many were injured or dead, she knew she had to fight, not cower like a kit. DuskPaw rose up, her eyes held a new confidence. She lashed forward, aiming at a strange cat's ears. Turning around, she swatted her claws at another feline, but sudden pressure blocked her blow, her breath straining into her lungs, and agony cluntched at her throat, her mournful cry echoing into her blood-filled ears.
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Post by Måø§† on Jan 25, 2009 13:56:40 GMT -8
If you take away hope Believing is all that we have And believe is what we will do
Fernstep Cries overwhelmed the forest, screaming of agony and hurt and untold tales that have ended only too soon. Fernstep stalked through undergrowth, the body of a bloodgang cat sleeping endless behind her. Mouth agape, her pants of terror and anger whispered against the harsh battle noise all around her. Suddenly pain seeped through her hind leg, vicious teeth curling over her bone. She felt herself being dragged out into the open, her claws scrambling uselessly at the ground, unable to find a grasp. Whipping awkwardly around, her face twisted in pain, she made out the shape of a massive dog grasping her. She felt his teeth baring into her bone, so close to cracking her frail limbs. Scenes pulsed like heartbeats before her: A blood-curdling whine. Released. The elegant figure of Stoneclans leader. Darkness. Through the last life, of a good leader. Silverstar.
When the moon sighs over her star-lit hills, it is then that you know what the sound of the night really is. Silver fur, moon-kissed and blazing brilliant against the pale stormy sky, Silverstar tore at the crying dog, skipping with perfect skill and agility. Twisting with ferocity and maneuvering the blood-thirsty dog away from the young warrior, she nipped his legs and chest. The dog loomed over her with anger beyond what she had every seen, lips bared in a snarl, teeth lashing out at her neck and stomach. Another cry of pain overwhelmed her as she rolled out of the dogs grasp, she saw clearly the crying image of Echoclans leader held down, lives torn out of her like fur. Slaughtered again and again, her fellow leaders last words were barely audible, whispering through the small clearing. Terror raced its bloody stream through her mind; what would be left of the Clans when all at finished? With her, her song And with song, the secrets Of love Of anger Of words that were never ever able to be told For this We will forgive And of this We will never Ever know The dogs teeth ripped through her scruff and Silverstar felt herself being whipped against a rough surface. Each purcussioned blow cracked like rocks against cement. Shattering her skull into dozens of ivory-stained fragments, every strike magnified her heart in a framed battle of compassion against hatred. A black fog, opaque with the renowned veil of unconsciousness gathered its petals over her crushed mind. And at last, death spread her peaceful wings over the young-spirited leader and held her close to her heart, cooing her beautiful lullaby through every last tear she wept for the both of them. And slowly, ever so slowly like the fall of nights sweet and bitter cloak unraveling to reveal the dew of the comforting sunrise, the leader succumbed to deaths song; pirouetting and leaping from star to star until she found her own bright place among them. And there she would dance every time the sun fell over the hills, performing the nights sweet solace against her silver-kissed shine. To die will be an awfully big adventure.
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Post by Rose on Jan 25, 2009 14:53:33 GMT -8
Longstride Blood covered the young deputy's flanks, both her's and other's alike. Cold, unfeeling fury channeled from her heart to her claws as she ripped through flesh and fur. The sounds of battle echoed in her ears, each cry of pain or wail of grief from the Clans pulling at her heart in such a way that hadn't been felt by her before. Her long tail lashed out of the way of a Blood Gang cat's jaws as Longstride swung around. She lunged forward, her jaws locking in the shoulder of the vile cat. A scream emitted from it's jaws, but it didn't faze her. Claws were brought down again and again, bringing another rain of blood to cover the grounds of Mistclan. Blinding pain flashed through her legs as she felt claws catch them, but she ignored it. She was unfeeling, uncaring. She had been pushed to the point that all she wanted was for this thread to her Clan to die forever. In a few heartbeats, the tom lay unmoving beneath her calico eyes, his eyes glassy. The she-cat rose her head and gazed out over the battle, trying to see her Clanmates. Grief began to pull at her as she saw cats laying motionless on the ground. Sootclaw, blood covering his pelt. Fernfoot, her broken body slumped against the rock. Young Foxpaw, his jaws opened in a fearful snarl as blood seeped from a gash in his neck. All dead or dying, beyond help. StarClan help us. Longstride thought as she snarled at another BloodClan opponent. Grief vanished, smothered by anger as she faced the threat again.
Aspenpaw I could hear my own ragged breathing as I huddled near a rock on the side of the blood-covered clearing. My mentor was nowhere to be found. I was scared. Terrified even. The battle was nothing like I had imagined it. Yes, I knew that it was bloody and full of death. But the glory in the stories told by my elders weren't present. I watched as my friends and family were torn into by cats and dogs alike. Fur was flying, and several cats lay on the ground, moving no more. The smell of death covered the clearing, making me gag. Wounds on my flanks and legs burned with a fire so intense I wanted to yowl to StarClan in pain. I had already seen leaders fall. If they couldn't stand, how could a small apprentice such as I? Taking a deep breath, I rose onto four shaking legs. I knew that even if it meant certain death, I had to go back out there. I couldn't just let my Clan mates fight this battle alone. Gazing around while hidden, I spotted Duskpaw, a fellow apprentice who seemed to be in trouble. "Hold on Duskpaw!" I yowled, smoothly racing over the slippery ground. My paws, though blood-stained already, would feel the ruby liquid again. Of that I was sure.
Cricketpaw and Martin A small apprentice huddled deep in the undergrowth, her sobs muffled in the fur of another cat. Her fluffy fur was slick with blood and mud, her tail furless in some places. The young she-cat was a wreck. But she was not alone. Another cat of similar coloring was pressed against her, his tail curled around her. He murmured comforting words to this cat he didn't know, though his eyes were wide with fear. Blood dripped down on his ginger and white fur from a torn ear, and his claws were extended for the first time in what seemed like ages. After out-running the dogs, the kittypet had hidden in the undergrowth. The last thing Martin expected to find was Cricketpaw. From what he could figure out from her breathless words, her brother had fallen to a Blood Gang cat while she was watching. After that, he couldn't just leave her. She wouldn't even defend herself. I have to watch her. He had thought, settling down beside her. The apprentice had leaned into him, burying her face in his soft kitty-pet fur.
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Post by Silver on Jan 26, 2009 16:44:56 GMT -8
At Camp Wary green eyes solemnly looked over the dozens of cats, new and old, huddled in the Mistclan camp. His home for almost 165 moons now, nearly 56 seasons, sheltering cats of every Clan, young and old, for the first time in his long lifetime. Blinking owlishly, Willowears rose to his paws, careful not to disturb his neighbor. A brown tabby tom, no older than an apprentice, whirled at his movement, but instantly relaxed, returning his gaze to a gravely injured she-cat beside him. As he paced around, murmuring encouraging words, or asking how one was, Willowears kept an eye on the young tom. Slowly, he picked his way through the dozens of bodies, some to tired to stay awake, others to tense to let sleep take them. The brown tom regarded him carefully as Willowears approached. "What is your name, son?" he rasped, curling his tail over his paws. The tom- one of many guarding the camp- hesitated, before meowing a hushed, "Match." Willowears nodded respectfully, and after a curious look, Match repeated the gesture. "Well, Match, you seem like a trusty fellow. When this battle is all said and done, there will be so much confusion. Please, can you do me a favor and tell my daughter that she can find me with her mother and sister? I have a feeling I won't be able to reach her. I believe you will recognize her when you see her," he asked, a slight smile lingering in his eyes, before they clouded with some mysterious emotion. Confused, Match nodded and watched the elder pad away.
Lilyan sat with several kits, all whom were sitting unnaturally quiet, especially a ginger tom. He seemed worried, always looking around, as if searching for someone. "You alright, hun?" she whispered, leaning close to the kit. The kit looked up into her eyes, but said nothing, just nodded his head. "Looking for you mom?" she whispered, glancing around the group of cats for a ginger queen. She had scanned the clearing while the kit said quietly, "Mum went to fight. I know she won't come back. She loved Da and the Clan too much," he said quietly, and Lilyan looked at the kit in shock. "None of us have a mum anymore. Mine was the last one. Closest thing we got now is you. But your not staying, are you?" he continued, his voice small and his eyes empty as he gazed up at her. Broken-hearted, Lilyan turned away. "No. This is not my home, and I long to see my own family again," she sighed, and glimpsed the orange kit nodding his head in understanding. "What's your name dear?" she asked, curling her tail around the ginger kit. "Pumpkinkit," came the reply, and Lilyan closed her eyes and tried to imagine Pumpkinkit with a smile on his face and excitement making his voice tremble. It wasn't hard to draw up the imagine, and the two sat in silence, listening to the battle cries fill the night.In the Battle Death. It was everywhere, tainting everything, everyone. Bluepaw stared in horror as the dogs brought down cat after cat, the BloodGang rouges finishing off whoever was left. Bluepaw panted heavily, her icy blue eyes scanning the clearing. There was such a tangle of cats, she couldn't even tell whom were her allies and who were the BloodGang cats. She closed her eyes for a moment, reverently wishing she'd stayed behind to help the medicine cats. With a deep breath, Bluepaw opened her eyes and launched herself back into the battle, digging her teeth tail of a scruffy loner. The cat hissed savagely, trying to dislodge her with a few pitiful swipes. Suddenly, it's eyes widen, jaw dropped, and with a ferocious kick, sent Bluepaw tumbling back. For a moment, she sat stunned, before her eyes registered what she saw above her, the thing she had smacked into. With a gasp, Bluepaw lurched forward, ears flat against her skull, but she was not fast enough. The dog clamped down upon her hind leg, making her wail with pain. The dog gave a jerk on her leg, making her cry out in pain again. It's going to tear my leg right off, she thought, horrorified, as the dog gave another merciless yank, siliva seeping into her wounds. As another cry escaped her, she was suddenly released, wimpering. Shudders racked her body, and her mind threatened to close down. She remembered to look up just before she blacked out, fearing what she would see. A mas of white and black was clawing wickedly at the dog's eyes as it howled in fury. She recognized the Dawnclan deputy by her unique black-striped pelt, and her heart went out to the warrior. Bluepaw had seen her brother lying umoving a while ago. Was she even aware her brother was dead? With another shuddering gasp, Bluepaw closed her eyes, letting herself sink into shock.
Frostfur leaped back, sastifyed, as the dog crumpled, blinded. She did not have much time, however, before the battle whirled her into a new foe. As the rouge lunged for her, she nimbly leaped back, managing to land a strong blow between the ears, momentarily stunning the rouge. I can't take my time anymore, she thought grimly, slashing her claws across it's flank. Hissing in rage, the rouge tried to jump on Frostfur's back, but she rolled over and jumped up, barely missing the tom. Fear shone brightly in his eyes as he glanced around briefly for an escape. But some kind of knowledge made him leap again, this time with a desperate haste. Frostfur was caught off gaurd, but managed to wriggle out of the rouge's grasp. Taking a deep breath, she lunged at the tom, latching her teeth into his scruff. Wildly, the tom tried to dislodge her, but Frostfur dug in with his claws, gripping him harder. Exhausted, the tom collapsed, and Frostfur delevered the killing blow. Shudders racked her body as she stared at the soulless eyes. He was a murderer. Don't feel sorry for killing a monster, she thought, shoving all other thoughts to the back of her mind. She turned, looking for another cat to help, but a sight made her breath catch in her throat and her heart skip a beat. A young loner, one she recognized as the Resistance, was dragging a limp black shape out of the battle, attempting to aviod flying claws. Frostfur's paws flew to the young she-cat, her eyes glazing over. "I'll take him," she whispered, her voice cracking. "There's an apprentice over there. I think she's in shock. Take her to the medicine cats," she instructed, her voice betraying no emotion. The she-cat hesitated a moment, but seeing the pain betrayed in Frostfur's eyes, Alley slowly set Sootclaw's body down. She nodded, and mumbled "I'm sorry," before she raced off. Alley found Bluepaw quickly, and began dragging the limp form toward Mistclan camp. At least the apprentice was much lighter than the bulky black tom. At once, she felt guilty for thinking that, remembering the pain in the she-cats eyes. They had seemed to be the same age, but they looked nothing alike. Alley made a mental note to ask someone as she dragged the unconcious Bluepaw through the mud, her paws scrambling for a grip.
Mountainheart bit down viciously, trying not to recoil from the taste of blood in his mouth. The rouge screamed in pain, and shook the warrior off. As the rouge raced off into the night, Mountainheart glanced around. Noticing a white warrior and a young she-cat exchange words, he hurried toward them. It took him a second to locate the white warrior, and was immediatly embaressed. Frostfur- for he easily recognized the Dawnclan deputy- was sitting beside a black form, her head dropped. Hearing his entrance, she whirled, fangs beared. Seeing it was just a fellow warrior, she relaxed a little, but a flame burned in her eyes. "Are you alright?" Mountainheart asked softly as Frostfur rose to her feet. Blood stained her paws, giving it a ghoulish apperence as she glanced at Sootclaw's body one last time. "He will be buried with his Clanmates at home. They will pay for his death," she said coldly, shouldering past the larger tom. Mountainheart was a little worried by the murderous glint in her eyes, but a cry broke through his thoughts, reminding him of what he was here for. Turning, Mountainheart hurried back into the clearing. His heart sank as he glanced around. The Clans were being pushed back, many lying in the clearing, dying or dead. His heart stopped when he spotted a familiar silver form. "Silverstar!" he cried, racing to his leader's lifeless form. He stood, his head bowed in grief. Who will lead Stoneclan now? he thought, but was ripped from his thoughts as another rouge bowled into him, and he began to fight once again, his heart heavy with loss.
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Post by Rose on Jan 27, 2009 8:21:56 GMT -8
Goldenpool A golden tabby slowly paced the outer edges of the battle, her fur smooth and clean. A satisfied smirk crossed over her face as she caught sight of a cat slumped against a rock, it's eyes glassy. Fernfoot. Goldenpool narrowed her eyes in satisfaction. Good. She's better off dead. Too bad my plan didn't work earlier. The warrior thought, moving on as she relived the moments that she had tried to drown the she-cat of a different Clan. She didn't plan to at first, but Fernfoot had seen her crossing Clan borders. Goldenpool, try as she might, wasn't able to convince the she-cat not to tell. In the end, after Fernfoot had threatened to reveal it at a gathering, Goldenpool had no choice. Catching sight of another Stoneclan member, the she-cat's eyes darkened. She knew this black and white tom that fought off cats left and right. It was Snowstorm, someone she never liked. She always got the feeling that he watched her too closely as if he didn't trust her. What better time to rid herself of an enemy than now? Everyone was too busy to watch. Choosing that moment to leap, she felt a wave of evil happiness as her weight pushed the tom to the ground. It didn't take long for her to gain the advantage; he was already weakened by other injuries while she was not. Using her paws to flip him over, she let out a laugh at his expression of surprised horror. This was great!
Snowstorm Snowstorm hardly breathed as he stared at the cat who had him pinned down. He could hardly believe it. Goldenpool?! Yet, at the same time, he knew he had been right all along. The she-cat couldn't be trusted. He tried to scratch at her face, but it didn't make a difference. She ignored the blows as she leaned closer and closer. Snowstorm closed his eyes and tensed, waiting for the final blow. There was nothing he could do. Nothing. Spiritstep... He thought, waiting.
But suddenly, the weight was no longer there. Opening his eyes in astonishment, he saw that Goldenpool was now held down by another cat. A silver tabby. One that, oddly enough, had the same build as Goldenpool. Eyes stretched wide, he recalled an image from the past. Two tabby apprentices, one gold, one silver. Goldpaw and...Silverpaw. But how? Silverpaw was taken by a fox pack long ago! Then again, they had trusted Goldenpool's words....Snowstorm knew too well not to do that...
He could see Goldenpool's shocked rage, though she did nothing. She was too shocked. "YOU! You were supposed to be DEAD! Chased away by the thought that Snakepaw didn't like you!" She spat, eyes narrowed.
Slvana The silver tabby stood looking at Goldenpool, her own yellow eyes narrowed coldly. "Yes, I suppose I was. But then I realized that you were lying. You always lied Goldenpaw. You NEVER liked me. Now I saw the truth in what you just tried to do." She meowed calmly. For her, the battle slipped away into nothingness. All that was there was her sister and herself. "It's time to end this Goldenpaw. You only hurt, never help. The Clans don't deserve this." She stated. Raising a paw, she didn't hesitate. Goldenpool, still spitting out curses and now flailing, lost it all when the death blow was given.
Standing over the now limp form of Goldenpool, Slvana let her tail droop and her tiredness show. The battle was important, yes, but not in the way that it had been. She had achieved her goal of stopping a cat that should've stopped long ago. Gazing down, a single tear ran down her face. "I'm sorry Goldenpaw. But you left me no choice." She whispered.
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