((I don't want to sound over-persistent, but I am getting tired of constantly reading one-word posts from the same people. I know Writer's Block finds us all one time or another, but it is always the same and three minsucule sentences should be easy enough. I don't mean to be rude, but whenever I remind said members of the
rule, you say you will try harder next time and/or come up with some excuse, but this has to stop. It is a rule and one that should be kept in mind; besides, mini-posts are often the end of a Roleplay if there are enough of them.))
WaterClan
An amused purr rumbled from Dawnsinger's throat, the tension between her and Silverleaf evaporating like dew in the sunshine. Perhaps things would soon be mended after all. Her lungs released a breath and she realized she had been holding it. The silver-furred warrior cast a sideways glance at her friend, hope flickering within them. Had she just imagined the uncomfortable emotions that sliced through the air whenever they were in each other's presences? This query was answered with an unwelcome memory of the two WaterClan she-cats spitting insults and unsheathing their claws, only heartbeats away from combat. Silverleaf's words sliced her heart more efficiently than teeth and claws ever would. She grimly forced the recollection from the forefront of her mind, her content expression faltering for a moment. Dawnsinger focused on happier thoughts, a thrill of elation making her heart beat slightly faster when she dwelled on the possibility of spending the entire day with Stormcall. It would be great to meet with her mate for an extended period of time without them even worrying about being caught or stressing about meeting the dark gray tom discreetly. And her friendship with Silverleaf seemed to be restored, if only for now. The she-cat pressed further for positive things, her brow furrowed as she searched. Dark thoughts took advantage of the opportunity to return and plague her mind with fear. Rumors of DarkClan becoming at large were spreading despair and death throughout the forest. Friendships were being tested, and anxiety and well as doubts were running high. The reassurance of the safety and presence of your very soul was gone, and the threat of death was alarmingly serious (For lack of better word). To complicate matters even more, leaf-bare was slowly but surely approaching, hanging over the eight Clans like a heavy fog. Otterpaw's appearance wrenched Dawnsinger from her reverie and she forced herself to once again adopt a cheerful mask. It concealed her true emotions quite well as she was rather good at that. "I'm right here," she mewed to the apprentice, stepping forward so the sun caught her silver pelt, causing it to shine in the light. Her eyes danced with short-lived amusement when she joked, "Really, I know your name is 'Otterpaw,' but can you really be so ignorant to your surroundings?" Her expression darkened as she added sullenly, "A DarkClan cat could sneak up on you if you're not careful." The older cat blinked, surprising herself with her own feelings. What was with the sudden mood swing? "Sorry," she hastily muttered when Otterpaw's face fell.
SunClan
Flamedancer's paws itched with indecision. She felt a strange but strong urge to follow the wounded tom and his Clanmate, wanting to make sure he was going to be okay. She bit her lip and stared hard at the ground, composing herself, before raising her eyes to nod somewhat gratefully to Leopardfur. The IceClan warrior had spared her, after all. If she had made up her mind to settle on a different decision, Flamedancer would be accompanying the IceClan cats but not for the reason she wanted to. Her paws could well be on their way to their camp to face Froststar. Her green eyes darting yet again to Nightfall, she forced herself to turn away and ignore her desire to reassure the black tom's safety. She retreated and started padding toward the border though her paws still dragged. It was for the best, Flamedancer half-heartedly told herself, yet she didn't believe the thought. Oddly, the ginger she-cat felt as though she had failed; she helped, not enough for her to be satisfied. The cat she loved had been hurt, perhaps worse than he could have been. If only she had tried harder to save him! Flamedancer's claws digged into the frozen ground while her pelt burned with self-aversion and shame. If it hadn't been for Leopardfur, Nightfall's wounds could be fatal. And there was nothing she could do about it. The faint but distinct scent of SunClan barely registered as she trudged on, deep in thought.
((I have to go; I never seem to be able to post for all of my charries in time, hm? Oh well. And how Stormpaw loves to be referred to as "the legendary Heathersong's apprentice". x3))