[allynabean]

FCFS, but you must write at LEAST 500 words to answer the prompt!
what's a secret this kitty has that they believe the clan doesn't know? suggested by Vivika!
(there will be a few RU's!)

FCFS but you gotta meet the word count minimum!

Code: Select all

[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Cat Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Rank:[/b]
[b]Clan:[/b] (Please link)
[b]Age:[/b] (1 year or above)
[b]Prompt:[/b]

never gonna give you up
Name: featherflight
Gender: she-cat
Rank: fisher
Clan: cats of the high mountains
Description: fawn rosetted lynx mink point with high white and brown eyes
Age: 45 moons
Edits: [c] ear tufts, min fur edit, short tail
Owner: xem

[xem]

Username: xem
Cat Name: Featherflight
Gender: she-cat
Rank: fisher
Clan: x
Age: 45 moons
Prompt: She sighed as her eyes focused on a location down the mountain, past the trees and rocks that cast along the base, but towards a place that was most unnatural. The kind of place that a wild cat wouldn’t consider comfy, but to her, used to be a part of her home. And truly, she missed it. But she knew if the others knew she had anything to do with such a place, they wouldn’t want her around. The truth was, she was born in a place of two legs, raised until almost adulthood there, actually. It made her sad to think about, but her heart told her she shouldn’t confess, or even try going back there. She ditched her kitty pet collar long ago, and now she was to be the wildest wild cat there ever was, living up in the mountains. But she almost felt dirty, carrying along this secret, that she feared would somehow come out. Would she whisper it in her sleep, someday snap and reveal the truth to everyone? Surely no one suspected that those were her true roots, not even she would suspect herself to come from such a background. She laid down, curling her tail around her paws as the wind gently tugged at her pelt, imagining the scents of her once twoleg filled life. What would it be like there now? Did her kin still reside there? Oh how she longed to know! What about her mother? Did she still walk the fence lines and greet the others cats? Did her brother still roll be the garden, and chase birds in the yard? But she didn’t do any of those things anymore. No more playing with the feather toys, no more eating of the solid foods handed to them in a shiny bowl. Instead she was here, living in the cold mountains, not a sign of warmth anywhere. Unless you count the cat that is probably sleeping beside you. Every now and then it could be hot, but usually the mountain breeze cooled things down anyway. She felt stupid amongst a group of cats that was wild in the blood, and always had been. What if she wanted to go back one day? What if she did, just for a visit? Would she be discriminated against, hated if she tried to come back. It invoked fear in her, and she wasn’t really sure what to do with the idea. And she knew if she wanted to leave, she would have to make up her mind for sure. But little did the she-cat know, was that all of her friends and- basically anyone, knew that she was from a place of twolegs. It was even, common knowledge. The things she spoke of out loud without noticing, of loud monsters and fences, everyone already knew! Everyone except Featherflight of course. Every cat assumed she was open about others knowing, but here she was, lost and lonely on the mountains, longing for a journey home to her mother.

[Mythz]

Username: Mythz
Cat Name: Sparrow that Cries Solemnly
Gender: Tom
Rank: Huntsman
Clan: xx
Age: 29 Moons
Prompt:



Heavy, laboured breathing filled the air as hurried pawsteps echoed through the quiet night.
Hurry, he thought to himself as he pushed his body further, harder than he had ever ran before. Every muscle in his body screamed at him in protest but he ignored it.
Finally he skidded into the camp, dust kicking up around him and obscuring his view for a moment, however the sound of commotion in the camp was enough to tell him what he was already dreading.
Please, oh please don’t let them die…
Even with the dust around him he could make out the small shapes of cats darting back and forth, could hear the yowls of pain and scampering of pawsteps as cats clashed in battle with one another. Not caring for any other cat, Carnelian ran towards the nursery, fearing what he already knew was the case.
As he broke through the vine and bracken his gaze fell upon a small queen and kit, both already dead. He tore his gaze away, grief wracking his soul as a sob escaped his grief-torn heart. Anger slowly begun to replace his shock as he stood there, staring at the floor. It was all his fault.


“Hey, Sparrow, everything all good?” A small voice snapped him out of his memories, and he looked up, panicked.
He cleared his throat and paused. “Yes, I’m fine.” He replied gruffly, tail fluffing out in agitation.
“Oh, okay.” Sunny, the beautiful she-cat who had welcomed him openly into the clan had noticed his lapse into the past.
“Do you want to stop?” Gull asked, pausing beside Sunny.
The three had been working on battle tactics and recovery, and it had sparked the terrifying memory of his prior home. Not that anyone from the Tribe of Fallen Songs knew – at least, he hoped they didn’t know. Surely not… they would have had no way to know. He never told anyone, and he had been the only survivor.
“No. I’m fine.” He muttered gruffly before turning away to blink the dust from his eyes. No matter how far he ran, or how much he lied, or how far down he buried them, the memories kept coming back. Over and over again. He couldn’t escape them no matter how hard he tried.
“Let’s get on with it then.” Gull murmured.
“Fine.” He snapped back. He didn’t really mean to be so agitated, he just didn’t want them to know the true reason behind his emotions – if they knew, they would surely kick him out. Who would want someone like him? Certainly not this goodie two shoes tribe.
After all, who would want someone who betrayed the only one who mattered in their life?
Who would want someone who couldn’t keep one dang kit and her mother alive?
Who would want someone who murdered a whole clan by one misspoken word?
Certainly not this tribe.
And so, he goes on with his lie and this life. Constantly fearing that one day, somehow, they would find out.

[mal du pays]

Username: Takura.
Cat Name: Moxie
Gender: Female
Rank: Keeper
Clan: The Veil
Age: 2 years 4 months
Prompt:
“No, you can’t come along.”
The whines coming from behind Moxie was palpable, and she almost felt a little guilty - she always did. She almost wanted to scoop up the little one and carry them back to camp, but she knew that Triptych didn’t take too well to outsiders - regardless of how he felt about following the code.
“But Moxiiiiiie.” The small tabby kitten asked, her small ears folding back. “I get real lonely when you go home! Can’t I go with you?”
“I wish you could, kiddo, but you can’t.” She gave her a gentle nudge, and the kit pouted more. “I promise I’ll try to come visit again soon. Okay, Peach?”
Peach gave a small sniffle. “Okay..”
Giving the kitten a small glance, she bounded back toward the place where her home - The Veil - was located.

It’d been several months since she’d found the kitten. A secret she’d kept.
Originally, there were three of them - Peach, and her two siblings. She’d been on patrol and had, admittedly, slipped outside of their territory, but in the end she felt it had been worth it. Peach had asked if she had food for them, as he brothers weren’t able to hunt, and the she-cat felt her heartstrings tug in every direction at once. She promised she would find them food, and Peach was overjoyed when the older cat came back with the biggest mouse she’d sworn she had ever seen. Moxie remembered with a chuckle each time she came to visit how delighted the small little tabby was about the mouse, and she came by each time with another one.
The second time she had come around, it was just Peach. The kitten had said that her brothers had gone away and not come back, and Moxie had a feeling she knew what had happened. The older cat stayed with the kitten for a while, telling her stories about what she experienced out in the wild world and the battles she fought. Peach was enthralled, wanting to know all of the details - although Moxie omitted the more gruesome parts. There was no reason to scare the child more than she had already been.
Each time she came to visit, she brought more stories to the young one - stories that made her wish to come with her more and more, and Moxie had to kindly tell her that she couldn’t. Without fail the young kitten would plead, saying she was more than capable of staying safe! But Moxie knew that she couldn’t. Not yet.
She had to find some way to break it to Triptych, but she didn’t want to endanger the kitten’s life more than it had already been during her visits.

In actuality, Triptych had been aware that something was up after Moxie had slipped off during a patrol the fourth time around. He was not a stupid man, and he had his experiences with those who thought they were being clever. He knew something was up with Moxie.
He just had to figure out exactly what.
(508)

[nio]

Username: nio
Cat Name: Cinnamonspot
Gender: molly
Rank: sharpclaw
Clan: bayclan
Age: 39m
Prompt: [501 words]
Cinnamonspot blinked her weary eyes open.

It's time.

She looked up through the branches of the sharpclaw's den. The moon, round and full, shone bright in the sky. She stood up, stretching, and picked her way to the entrance of the den. A cat murmured in their sleep as she passed, and she froze in place. She held her breath for a few moments, before exhaling as the cat rolled over and feel back into a deep sleep.

The camp was well lit up by the moon, but it was empty. No one was on guard during the full moon, as is tradition. She didn't chose this time for nothing! It was all lined up so perfectly for her. Her secret was safe and sound.

She stepped lightly through the camp, making her exit through the dirtplace tunnel. As soon as she was a considerable amount of steps away from the main camp, she broke out into a sprint. The moon sparkled on her pelt and the warm sea breeze brushed past her fur as she ran. She felt alive. Her paw tingled with excitement.

After a while, the upwalker ruins came into view. Their crumbling towers glowed in the moonlight, and beneath them, a cat sat.

The most beautiful cat in the world.

Cinnamonspot purred with happiness. Her love! Her love was here!

They would only meet once a moon, on the full moon, and the wait between each meeting was long and hard.

The cat jumped up as she approached. "Hey there, gorgeous."

"Hera!" Cinnamonspot shoved her muzzle into the other cat's fluffy chest. "I've missed you so much!"

"You too, Cinnamonspot, my angel." She lapped the sharpclaw's head, right between the ears.

Hera was a large, fluffy kittypet from the nearby upwalker camp. They'd met long ago, and almost fought, before Cinnamonspot offered Hera a bite of her prey. The kittypet had been looking messy and skinny. Slowly Cinnamonspot nursed her back to health, and now her coat shone!

Hera had been abandoned by her upwalkers, but now, with Cinnamonspot's help, had gotten used to living without them. She lived among a former kittypet colony in the upwalker place.

Cinnamonspot nuzzled her lover, who's collar bell jingled lightly as she did so. It had made the sharpclaw wary of first, but now the sound was familiar, comforting. She blinked at Hera, her heart warm.

"Did you want to go hunting?" The sharpclaw suggested. They weren't on BayClan land, nor PeakClan land, so any prey around here was free-for-all. It had taken her a while to not feel guilty about not feeding her clan first but... it didn't bother her much anymore. She was spending precious time with her lover. That was all that mattered.

The two intertwined tails as they looked up at the stars above.

"That sounds lovely, my dear." The kittypet purred into her companion's ear. "I've been craving those hares you're excellent at catching..."

Cinnamonspot's eyes twinkled. "Bet, give me a moment."

She raced off.

[DarkestWerewolf]

Username: DarkestWerewolf
Cat Name: Tapio
Gender: male
Rank: Scout
Clan: Wild’s Calling Clan
Age: 35 moons
Prompt:

(517)
”Im off to patrol.” Tapio called out.

He was not out for patrol.

The feline trotted off, in the general directions of the territory border. Excitement filled his body as he quickened his pace, paws lithely carrying him to the border. He giggled to himself, no one knows his little secret.

Everyone knows his secret.

As he reached the border, he looked around to make sure the coast is clear. No signs of the clan anywhere. Good. He headed towards a pile of leaves and branches under a tree, moving them slightly to reveal an opening. It resembled a den of somewhat. Truth is, it’s a secret hiding spot that Tapio himself made. However, it isn’t just any den, this den led to a cliff-side opening. That was luck.

Tapio had initially dug a simple den but as he continued digging, the earth gave way and revealed a large opening on the side of the cliff that faces the sea. A hideout with a view? Sign him up. Since then, he’s made it his secret spot that only he knows about. On days when he gets tired from patrolling and just wants a quick escape for a nap, a place to stash his food so the apprentices don’t come clawing at him for his prized rainbow trout or just wants time to himself in general, he comes here.

He enjoys the sound of the ocean waves washing up against the shore. The constant sound and rhythm was therapeutic and soothed his soul. However, if he spends the night at the den, it becomes freezing cold. You get the ocean view but along with the frigid temperatures of it when the sun sets. So it’s more of a day time napping spot rather than an overnight hideaway. He very much prefers the warmth of the clan’s cave at night.

However, he is not the only one aware of it. One thing you should know about Tapio is that he is horrendous at keeping secrets. He just can’t help it. His expressions are obvious. Anyone can read him like an open book. Everyone knows Tapio has a hiding spot at the territory border but only a handful have actually seen him enter and know the exact spot.

The clan doesn’t really bother about it since it isn’t any harm. Tapio is a simple feline with simple needs. He does work hard for the clan but he does get lazy at times. Tapio honestly doesn’t mind if word gets out. Of course he prefers not to. It is a secret after all. However, the ones he would dread finding out are the apprentices. Those cheeky rascals are the bane of his food and existence. God forbids one sees him entering his hideout.

Should they ever find out about his hideaway, it will be the end of him and his stash of sweet berries and fresh caught trouts. The clan doesn’t bother nor spread it but oh sweet Tapio is blissfully unaware that the clan is indeed aware of his secret. They just don’t bother with it.

Ignorance is bliss anyway.

[mothbrainz]

Username: mothbrainz
Cat Name: dancing in the dark
Gender: nonbinary (any pronouns)
Rank: nomad
Clan: the nomads
Age: 20 years (adult)
Prompt: Dancing is not a true nomad.

Her grandparent was one - she has the traits of one, her third, translucent eyelid, the slight webbing between her paws, the glossy coat that sheds water like wax. Her rosetted coat has the wildtype markings found in some other members of the nomads, her mink point and high white aren't too abnormal, she even has the trademark ear tufts sported by the rest of her fae denmates. One thing sets her apart: being fawn, she is genetically cinnamon, a gene not carried by any of the true nomads.

Her grandparent had been a curious, benevolent fae who often traveled to the mortal realms. They were the one who coined the idea of namesets - why have just one word to mask your true name when so many of the mortals use different, beautiful systems? And thus Mind Sharp As Thorn, also known as Sharpthorn, also known as Thorn, never known as One With The Words set into motion a new tradition. And with the new, must come the old: the old trope of a forbidden romance.

The nomads are permitted to intermingle with mortals, both platonically and romantically, however due to their secretive nature they are forbidden from participating in the raising of halfling kits. If a mortal is found to be carrying their offspring, they must leave, lest the locals discover that fae disguised as cats have been wandering their midst.

But One With The Words promised to check in on their lover, and when they did, they found a cold body huddled around one weak kit. This was Danging's mother. One With The Words rushed the fading kitten to her mother's clan, and they rushed to her aid, not questioning One With The Words at all. They slipped away unnoticed, watching over their daughter from afar.

Their daughter grew into a strong, adventurous halfling. She was named Salmonpetal for the way she blossomed in the water, and mystified all who had the pleasure of meeting her. She was tough and bold, often caught up in scraps defending the weak or dragging loners back to camp for assistance. And it was in one of these altercations that she met Boulder, her downfall.

She loved him. One With The Words could see it, the clan could see it, everyone could see it. The two were inseparable, leaving each others' sides only to hide their relationship from the clan. The clan, of course, didn't have the heart to say anything, especially not when their beloved Salmonpetal fell pregnant. After weeks of pretending not to notice, she broke down, admitting to what she had done. And her clan welcomed her with open arms, informing her that she would always be loved here.

Weeks later, she had left their world in the same way as her own mother, having went into labor too early in the depths of the territory alone. Her kitten laid crying for hours.

One With The Words was nearing the end of his time. He had the strength left for one final journey between the mortal realm and his own. And with his last bit of strength, he lifted up his grandkit, bringing her to a land of safety and the warmth of her family.

[hainu]

Username: hainu
Cat Name: woodwhisper
Gender: molly
Rank: warrior
Clan: fernclan!
Age: 32 moons
Prompt: [524 words]


Woodwhisper believes that her clan doesn't notice when she leaves, you know? It's the dead of the night, nothing but the moon lighting up the camp. Her steps are careful as she leaves, but there's always an observant pair of blue eyes that notices. She glances back over her shoulder, ears airplaned; unsure. Nobody was awake, right? Of course not.. It was far too late for that, in her mind's eye. When her back turns, Magpietuft cracks his eye open again, and watches as her silhouette grows smaller. The black tom furrows his brows, and as they love to say, curiosity killed the cat.. Er, well. Hopefully it won't this time.

When she leaves, she tends to head into the woods, trotting through the underbrush with purpose. She's going somewhere and she knows exactly where, that's for certain. Not many of them tend to go past the woods, as predators linger. The danger of the situation makes the whole.. aura of the place at night feel unnerving. There were owls, foxes.. One of their eldest clanmates even swore to Starclan that he saw wolves and lived to tell the tale. Her fur bristled, and she moved faster with flattened ears. It was clear that she didn't exactly like this path either. Magpietuft blended into the shadows as he followed, the dense trees letting little moonlight filter through and into the woods.

As she (and subsequently, he) got deeper into the pine forest, a familiar yet unfamiliar scent hit his nose. Woodwhisper seemed to perk at this, ears perking up and tail-tip curling with unsure excitement. Her pace slowed, and her posture relaxes. The scent of.. cat? It grows weaker as she and her 'chaperone' stray further from camp. Something floral, yet definitely feline. The persistent duo of scents that simply won't go away, and that he's never personally scented on border patrols. Were these newcomers to the area? Had another clanmate snuck out that he hadn't seen in time? Snapping out of his thoughts, Magpietuft quickly grew alarmed at losing her in the short time he was in his own head.

A brief glimpse of her tail, and he was back on track. She looked.. nervous, but excited. A soft purr rumbles from her, as the dense forest began to slowly disperse, seeming more and more like a thin scattering as trees as time went on. It gave way to a small stream, rushing over the rocks and pebbles. Woodwhisper looked over her shoulder again, and only the leaf-litter of leaf-fall protected Magpietuft's cover. He'd have to be more careful.. She seemed uneasy, but maybe she hadn't noticed yet..

Hopping over the stream, she began a bouncy bound out of the tree-line and into an open meadow. The cat scent was stronger here? He watched for a moment, as she moved to sit by a rather heavily moss-covered rock. After a few moments, another.. cat showed up!? Two, actually.

His eyes widened as Woodwhisper affectionately rubbed heads with a colorpointed tom with scars on his neck, and a fluffy molly with flowers in her fur came up to her with a small smile.

[Canis Root Tea]

Username: Canis Root Tea
Cat Name: Owltalon
Gender: Male
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Pineclan
Age: 3 years
Prompt:
512 words

Owltalon is secretly afraid of being loved and loving in return.
He is a very proud, rowdy warrior that talks a lot about his prowess in fights and is openly confident in his abilities. He trains night and day, and is constantly showing apprentices just how talented his fighting moves are. The kits and apprentices love how cool he is. The whole clan is proud at how fierce and dependable a warrior he really is. However, Owltalon is afraid that he will let them all down. He is afraid that if they die, their blood would be on his paws. If they loved him so much, surely he could have saved them? Surely he could have trained them harder than he did? If he had just been a little faster, a little stronger, no one would have to die. It is easier to let others down when you have no such attachment to them. The saying goes that it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. But, is that really true? Can't he just negate all of the horrible feelings of losing someone if he just doesn't love? Owltalon fears the day that he has to say goodbye to someone he loved - especially if he could have stopped it from even happening.

What if you are not loved in return? How hard it must be to give so much of yourself to someone that you care so deeply about, only for them to disregard your being. How do you deal with the tight feeling in your chest, and the constant thought of the person you love in your head, when they hardly remember your name? It is like a direct battle strike to the heart. Would a wound like that ever heal? How long? There is no medicine for a broken heart. It is not a wound you can patch with cobweb, or a sickness you can cure with a herb. No, love is the wound that Owltalon fears the most. It can stay with you for all of your life.

But, what if he does love? What if he is loved in return? Well, there is fear of messing up. He is afraid that he will say something wrong, or disappoint them in some way. No one is perfect, surely, but Owltalon likes to pretend that he is. However, if the one he loves disapproves of him? How awful that must feel. Disappointing friends, family, or a lover is scary. You want them to love you so much, but what if it feels like your love just isn't enough? What if suddenly, their love isn't enough for you? Having someone so important in your life is scary. You give them so much of yourself, and you can only hope that they return the favor. It is a teamwork for the rest of your life. What if he lets his team down? So much fear over something so amazing as being love and showing love in return. Hopefully, this poor warrior gets over his fear.

[Only_Sky]

Username: Only_Sky
Cat Name: Brackenfrost
Gender: Female
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Cricketclan
Age: 14 moons
Prompt: " I believe- No, I'm certain, that I am the descendant of the original Cricketclan warriors. The clan does not know that, though.

You see, when my ears had barely opened as a tiny kit, I felt, I felt a sort of calling from the forest beyond the garden walls. The wind seemed to sing to me, lulling me from the towering crown of trees just beyond the old ivy strangled walls surrounding my home.

As my legs grew stronger and I began to venture beyond the den, it was very clear I had a natural instinct unlike other kits my age. I was an adept killer, a terror among the insects that festered the gardens. Soon enough, I had a growing collection of insect shells and wings, trophies of my hard earned hunts though I can't say that my mother was very pleased to find bits and pieces of dragonfly or beetle in the nest when she returned from her own hunts and patrols of the library. Nevertheless though, I was extremely proud that of all my litter, I was clearly the best skilled. I didn't hear the call again, not that I had had much memory of it in the first place anyway, and so it slipped to the back of my mind, unimportant.

It had been a while since my kitting, I was already 7 moons old when I heard it once again. I had finally left my mother's nest, and had picked out my own den among the gardens, having been able to care for myself and ready to get away from my overbearing mother and bothersome siblings - Who, might I add, were still mewling and hanging around my mother like nursing kittens! - when it whispered against the flowers, tickling my ears. It's hard to describe what it felt like, I know it wasn't a voice, but it seemed to being trying to say something, desperate to get the message through my ears.

I began to ask around the colony, curious if anyone else had heard the curious breeze, the one that seemed to be crying for someone to hear it. But most of the others gave me odd looks and told me I was hearing things, or told me off for fibbing and making up stories to confuse them or the kits. But I knew I wasn't crazy,something strange was going on, and I wanted to know what was up.

Eventually, I got around to a old tattered molly named Rose. " I 'eard you bi'n earin' thin's, lit'le one? " She had croaked, a strange sparkle glinting in her one good eye. " Yes.. The wind's been acting rather strange lately. The others keep saying I'm lying or hearing things, but I can't help but feel there's something else going on.. " I replied, cautiously relaying what I had told multiple others, only to be shut down. But the molly instead cracked a broken yellow smile. " Have you heard the tale of the ancient clan? "

That day, she told me the story of this old colony - clan as they called it. They were a group of fierce cats that controlled the forest beyond the wall, stalking through the shadows and taking battle to those who dared invade their territory. The story seemed to breath a sort of spirit in me I had never known. I felt a connection to them, so strong I thought I would be set aflame.

It didn't take long to me to start sharing the story with the rest of the colony, though few actually cared to listen. Eventually, I seemed to bother them so much that some began to insist that I leave and go 'Be one with the forest' since I was so obsessed. Even though some might have been offended, it made something in me click. I should go. Perhaps the clan was still there, and I actually belonged with them! After all, I was an excellent and natural hunter.

And so, off I went! And here I am now, a true warrior of the new Cricketclan. I have yet to tell anyone my relation to the clan, I don't want to make anyone jealous. "