[este11e]

marking! <3

[denja]

username: denja
cat name: rookfeather
clan: fickleclan
rank: warrior

gender: male
age: twenty nine moons

(without lightning effect)


rookfeather had a quiet kithood that mostly consisted of him trying to keeping his siblings out of trouble: which failed miserably time after time. as a kit, his eyes did not open until much later than expected and he was a frail, fragile cat even as he grew and matured.

for this reason, he was often left out on patrols. he had proved himself an adept warrior time and time again, yet it seemed no one batted an eye at him. in quiet rage, he slipped out into the underbush and disappeared on that cold, dark night.

in silent anger, rookfeather travelled out of clan borders with the intention to clear his mind. what he hadn't anticipated however, was how dangerous the world outside clan walls were. he easily lost his way, filled with regret and fear at every corner. what was that? who's there?! the forest never answered. instead, the crackle of lightning above was his only companion in the dark world that was out to get him.


rookfeather never returned to his former clan: getting far too lost and instead stumbling upon a fickleclan patrol. from there on, his courage grew, as did his self-esteem. however scary the experience was, he overcame it. sometimes, rookfeather can't even say he now regrets his decison.

[grizzly.]

Username || grizzly.
Name || Ottermask
Gender || tom
Clan || [url]pikeclan[/url]
Rank || Warrior
Prompt ||

[found.]

"I have killed many in your name, and in the name of the clan I so faithfully served. And for what?"
"For the betterment of the clan," scorned Thornstar. "To uphold our honor and the warrior's code, and to keep the clan safe. Are you so spineless so as to prefer that a few rival warriors be spared than your entire clan?" -----------

Larksong was trembling - from fear, from anger and hate, potent regret - and she felt that she could not continue for much longer at all. "I do not feel it is right to kill unnecessarily, to kill out of a bloated sense of entitlement and honor. And I do not feel that I can any longer serve a clan whose very existence works to uphold this notion. And so I am going to leave, Thornstar, and you won't be hearing of me ever again."

Thornstar turned from his position facing the wall and stared, dumbfounded, at Larksong.

"You, you cannot leave!" he stammered, ears twitching backward. "I forbid it!"


She narrowed her eyes, tail swishing angrily. "It is not your choice to make," she said quietly. "It is mine."
A pause, full of such profound tension that the air itself seemed to sizzle with it.
"And what do you choose?" Thornstar replied, his voice hushed dangerously. His eyes burned into her own, daring her to respond.

Another pause. The deputy sneered, swiping his tongue over his lips, savoring the scene. Thornstar remained very still.
Then, "I choose to leave, Thornstar." Larksong's words were cool and spoken with respect, but her eyes betrayed deeper feelings of resentment and loathing.

maybe a mark??

[yellowpip1]

Username: Yellowpip1
Cat Name: Smokewhisper
Clan: Orchardclan
Rank: Warrior
Gender: Tom
Age: 48 moons

Prompt:

[MeltiTheDragon]

username;; Diamondshine101
name;; Harriernose
gender;; Male
age;; 24 Moons
rank;; Warrior
clan;; Cascadeclan


I knew I shouldn't have done it.

But I could hardly help myself.

---------------

I was sixteen moons old, just barely a full fledged warrior. It was the first time that Campionstar let me lead a patrol. A hunting patrol, to be specific. We were told to trek southward. The southern border hadn't been hunted in for at least a quarter moon. Surely we'd find prey there.

The night came and went. Prey was plentiful ; we had so much with us, that our patrol of six struggled to carry it all. We sat by that one odd wooden bridge stretching over the river. The stern ginger molly to my right meowed, "We have more than enough prey. Let's head back to camp."

"Good idea, Burnetstream. Come on guys," Hornetpelt replied. Bleakflower and Cinderstripe both followed suit.

That's when I heard an odd squeak. Almost like the mix of a meow, a bark, and a bird's chirp. It was high pitched and loud as those stupid grackles that like to perch outside the cascades and wake us all up at the crack of dusk. Of all things my mom taught me, this wasn't one of them. What kind of creature made that sound? I was intent on finding it out.

As I crept over the bridge, closer and closer to the sound, I got this bad feeling in my gut. Something inside me screeched that this wasn't safe. I ignored that feeling, and continued on anyway.

The others in the patrol shared that feeling. "Don't you dare, Harrier!" Weaselwhisker yowled. I ignored him too. I needed to see what it was.

"Harrier!"

"HARRIER!!!"

---------------

I vaguely remember something very large grabbing me when I was across the bridge.

I woke up in one of those weird tiny silver dens. Felt all tingly and woozy. And very confused. As I stretched my heavy body, I finally noticed something odd. The tip of my left ear was taken off. What had attacked me. I tried to ask around. That cute tom in the den across from me mumbled something about TNR. No idea what that means. He didn't either ; he just heard it from one of the cats he saw earlier. All of a sudden, some big chattering twolegs started shuffling around the dens.

They took the dens out into the woods and, to my surprise, opened them up. It puzzles me to this day. Why didn't they want to keep us as kittypet hostages or something? Not that I'm complaining, I'm glad they let me go back to my clan. Unfortunately I couldn't get that tom or any of his friends to come with me to the clan. Which totally stinks because I thought they would've made some great warriors.

When I finally managed to drag my butt back to camp, the clan was in an uproar. For every cat that was relieved I wasn't dead, there were another three that were enraged at my stupidity. I'll forever be known as the cat that made level-headed Campionstar lose her temper. She lectured me the whole day on everything under the moon ; how I shouldn't wander off alone, how I shouldn't have ignored that bad feeling I had, how I should've just alerted her when we got back to camp, so on and so forth. Owletfur, he was just plain speechless at what happened. He nearly took my other ear tip off!

Note to self : Never ignore a gut feeling.

[575/1000 words]

[MichelleP224]

username: denja
cat name: rookfeather
clan: fickleclan
rank: warrior

gender: male
age: twenty nine moons

(without lightning effect)


wip!

Love this art <3

[>> Leafstorm515]

Username: ~HєуRєι~

Name: Weaselspots
Gender: Tom
Clan: Beamclan
Rank: Guard

Word Count: [775/1000]

At the time of the memory, Weasel wasn't known for his stealing. In fact he was mostly against the idea. That of course was until his partner in crime contracted a fatal illness, leaving him with borrowed time to find the correct herbs that could save his life. Recently stumbling across a well-stocked society of cats, Thistleclan, the darker colored tom came across an opportunity of a lifetime. Looking back and fourth between the clan and his companion, constant reminder that the death of his friend could be the next cold night, he tried to take the opportunity in front of him. Day after day, the tom hoped and prayed, searching for another way to get the herbs he needed other than through theft, though he unfortunately didn't have the knowledge needed to start looking for that second option. One particular night, Weasel stirred, troubled by how increasingly cold the nights had become.
"Weasel?" The sickly blue tom mewed weakly, "How are you still up?"
The darker tom gazed into the amber eyes of the one next to him, taking in the soft shine that glazed over them. "I'm just.. thinking." He replied, a solemn tone evident in his voice.
"I thought I smelled something burning," the tom chuckled at his friend's reply, soon turning into a raging cough. Weasel turned, trying to comfort as his mind knew it would soon be time to start his plan. The coughing soon ceased, leading the pale blue tom to once more look back at his friend, "Pardon that, but you simply sitting there, looking at the direction of the clan isn't like your usual 'thinking'."
Both paused, the darker tom turning away slightly in shame, till one more question broke the sudden silence in the night, "what are you planning?"
The white spotted paw on the pale blue tom lightly settled on top of the darker tom's paw, leaving them staring into each others eyes with great worry still lingering. "Nothing that you need to worry about, Pigeon," the silence was broken once more as Weasel lightly nuzzled his partner's head, an exchange of loving licks and re-assuring purrs before the warmth of the two intertwined in the night, both soundly sleeping in the cold.

The next night Weasel decided to take the plan into action, slipping silently away from the pale sleeping tom into the foliage. He simply told himself he couldn't wait any longer for some 'saving grace' to appear in front of them, that he had to take these drastic measures in order to save the life of the cat dearest to him. Creeping through the foliage around the camp, the darker tom silently padded across the camp towards what he thought was the medicine den, or at least the medical stash. Smelling around for the correct herbs to use, he gathered some tansy, borage, moss and catmint before swiftly leaving the den and back through the entrance he made for himself. Quickly deciding that he would likely need some water as well for his friend, he dipped the piece of moss into the cooling liquid of the nearby lake, the sun's rising rays causing for the ripples to glimmer as the air warmed. The tom trotted back to where his sleeping partner was, excitingly waving his tail as he approached the shelter.
"Pigeon! I got something that will help you get better! At least it should," the tom placed the various herbs and soaked moss down as he padded softly over to the pale tom, still dozing early into the morning. "Hey, Pigeon, wake up love! You have to take these as soon as possible."
As the darker tom rest his paw on his partner, he noted the distinct coldness of his fur, "Pige?"
He slightly turned his friend, begging for him to open his eyes, to say something, do something. In the end it was for nothing, the one thing Weasel knew for sure that caused for the illness to get worse was the cold. Likely the only thing keeping the pale tom alive the last few nights was his friend's warmth, his company, and last night Weasel left him early into the night, the air having gotten colder as his travel took long enough for morning to finally rise once more. Perhaps if Weasel simply waited, simply asked the clan for help instead of quietly taking the resources in the night, the last person the darker tom cared for would still be alive. But that couldn't be changed now, that cat was dead. Weasel was now left alone in an unknown place, with heavy guilt and regret weighing on his shoulders.

Congrats to Rei for this heart breaking, tear inducing well written entry! I really loved the development that you accomplished in such a short writing piece, I felt like I knew the cat just from reading your entry. Congrats, enjoy!

I'd also like to give an HM to Mythz for their writing and art because it was a hard choice for me, and I felt like you also did a good job giving insight into the character. <3
EDIT: Because it didn't save my other comment, I'd also like to give an HM to denja because the art you made was stunning, and I adored all the effort you put in!

Thanks to everyone who entered!

[MeltiTheDragon]

Congrats ~HєуRєι~, Mythz, and Denja! :3

[denja]

aaa thanks for the HM and a big congrats to rei!! you can keep my art if it still fits your concept for weaselspots. <3