((
Roseness wrote:Thank you for re-joining, Nala, welcome back~ All of your cats are accepted, unless Tink disagrees.
I wonder why my posts are so often ignored by other people, and not only on this forum. X'3 Are they invisible or something? Wolfie, can you please quit the double-posting? It is incredibly irritating, and you can easily fit in all of your text into a single convenient post. Fairy, random, but I just wanted to write that I love your Graypaw/Ashpaw posts, they actually make me laugh sometimes! n.n Too bad I don't have enough time to write for the characters I have, let alone take on another apprentice. Oh well, at least after you mentioned it, an army of pretty young she-cats sprang up. X3 Koyuki, your cats are accepted, though I don't entirely approve of Northernkit's name -- cats don't know what "north" means. o.o" And please attempt to refrain from reposting your forms when they are on the previous page. I will edit this post soon, just had to get this OOC into action. . . OMIGAWD: I just noticed that there are literally
no toms whatsoever in WaterClan. Fail. X'DDDDD))
Gathering
Ashwhisker gazed up at the leaders attentively, his smooth blue stare unwavering and calm. He was settled in an unstirring sitting position, his silken-furred tail curled almost daintily about his paws, but there was nothing feminine about his cool and steady presence. In fact, his broad shoulders were spread in a way that seemed proud, although this small detail was modestly understated, not displayed very obviously yet a demanding feature that marked his appearance as aloof and collected as he felt. As he always felt, of course – he had a small number of worries plaguing his mind, albeit menacing and important worries that eternally laced his steady, amiable demeanor with a harsh edge that gave his steady demeanor a discordant border. His sharp eyes were far from detached and vacant, and they gleamed in the half-light that dimly illuminated the large clearing teeming with the active and raucously blathering bodies of communicating cats. His piercing stare was yet to pick out many details, for the full moon was still rising behind them; it was nearly moon-high, though the nine distant figures were only vague shadowy forms that seemed to be watching the countless cats socializing in the vast clearing below them. It took only a second for the medicine cat's perceptive mind to pick out the flaw in the image at the circular platform of Centertree. Inquisitive eyes narrowing briefly, Ashwhisker summed up the amount of cats in the leaders' places to confirm that there were more cats than usual occupying the coveted space far above their prattling heads. He wondered why this would be, but quickly terminated any curious queries that arose with this strange occurrence and told himself that thinking about it would achieve nothing before his mind was ensnared too deeply in the matter. He had an uncanny, haunting feeling that whatever was to be announced later on once the leaders began their monthly reports, it would immensely affect the valley of Clan cats. Most frustratingly, it was too difficult to decipher whether the knot in his gut was ominous or excited. It was only several moments’ wait for the increased number of cats perched in the outreaching branches of Centertree to distribute the message, the medicine cat wearily told himself. Soon enough, the announcement would be made, and his burning curiosity would be fulfilled. But the heartbeats that depleted the antagonizing expanse of time between now and the moment of truth seemed to take moons for a single one to pass by, and his paws itched in irritated anticipation. It was too late to deter his descent into troublingly concerned thoughts; for his slightly alienating inquiries festered more the longer they remained untouched and answerless, and so he cascaded further into more and more frustrated bouts of silently impatient fits.
The cacophonous mob around him reminded him of how lonesome he was with nary a cat speaking to him, however mild it may be. A piercing pang of worry shot through him as his mind flitted to his sister's current situation as well as her absence at his side. Normally she would be joyfully articulating about something completely irrelevant to the Gathering while he and Stormcall quietly listened and occasionally inserting their small part of the dialogue without so much as a murmur of complaint, and he wouldn't care. He enjoyed his littermate's presence, as she was one of his only roots to the world and his most important one, and he would do anything for her. He missed her. Of course, his loneliness was not consoled by her long period of unconsciousness, especially after nearly drowning in her own home. Irony burned within his claws, which were unsheathed into the loose, sandy earth; Dawnsinger was a
WaterClan cat, for StarClan's sake! How bitter it would be for her to lose her life to the substance she loved so much. His pelt prickling in desolation, Ashwhisker forced himself to focus on something else other than the sharp pangs of anxiety coursing throughout his body and sending distressed shivers down his spine; his chest was convulsing in troubled spasms, and he wrenched his thoughts away from that grim path lest he have an embarrassing incident with the whole of PowerClans present. The shudders refused to cease, but the fearful tears blurring his vision and forming a dull sheen over everything gradually lessened, but his eyes still stung in their forlorn memory. If his sibling departed from the earth, he would lose himself over her death. That much was certain.
The young tom shuddered to think of how horrible it would be if Dawnsinger was never to take her first breath after coma.
Abruptly, deliberately moving on to other manners of thinking, Ashwhisker cast his sorrowful gaze about in small, disrupted jerks in his desperation to escape the vise of dark nightmares that grasped him so tightly that he had to struggle against the closing of his throat, the stricken atmosphere projected by his mind threatening to choke him. He could feel his woes ghostly clutch forming an invisible noose about his neck, chaining him to earth and leaving him fighting on the brink of insanity. He was ill thinking about Dawnsinger’s fate, and the frightening likelihood of her death chilled him to the soul and clawed at the very confines of his soul, which was crying out for blessing release. But that was far too much to hope for, and the vain prayer crept into his heart and made it beat faster, his heartbeat a rapid pulse of somberly singing blood that rushed in his ears, so loud he could scarcely detect the deafening outbursts of the throng surrounding him. He could only hope that his other half’s heart was doing the same, and the former rising and falling action of her chest stirred by her lungs as they drew breath was left uninterrupted. He could only hope. . . Finding an anchor to latch the forefront of his tormented mind at last, his concentration zeroed in on a trio of apprentices mere tail-lengths from him; the words formed by their quickly moving mouths was unheard to him, though he intently focused on the movements that their thin lips made while they spoke obliviously to each other. Anything to keep his mind occupied and his inner demons at bay. Ashwhisker discovered way too soon how tediously not stimulating the younger cats’ muted conversation was, and he quickly found himself scrabbling to seek out another method to engage his mind in order to divert his attention from his distressing worry for you-know-whose unconscious stupor flirting heavily with death.
Despite his crippling worry that thrived in the back of his mind, Ashwhisker barely managed to refrain from fleeing into the night in the intensifying urge to run from it all. Of course, it was rather difficult to run when you have a web of painful chains pinning you down to the ground and defacing your heart while you begin to fall and never stop plummeting.
((Meh, I know I could do a much better job, but what the hey, it's much better than a one-liner. . .))
Oh no there are no more left... 
and thanks)