Post by ♫.Starredmyst on Dec 26, 2007 17:26:03 GMT -5
"...so please. StarClan, please, I beg of you. Speak to your father for me, Great One. It's just one kit, one queen. Great Leader's Daughter. One favor."
It was a cool morning in late leaf-fall, and the horizon was just touched with pink and gold. Few cats were up at this time of day -- the night patrol returning to warm dens, other cats with duties to be completed before the sun rose, the occasional restless sleeper -- but Starredmyst had been having trouble sleeping lately.
The young she-cat yawned expressively as she examined the tom who had approached her, the camp's cool sand drawing the heat from her thick blue-grey fur. Her pale green eyes narrowed with cold amusement at the supplicant, and he flicked his ears uneasily, earnest gaze wavering and not meeting hers.
"Thank you for all of those compliments, Soulreaver," Starremyst replied finally, with a touch of acid sarcasm in her rough voice. "I'm sure you meant them with all of your heart."
"Oh, certainly, Dear --"
"I'll think about it," she cut the out-of-favor warrior off, rising to her paws with a graceful flick of her long-furred tail. The leader's daughter had little patience for a toady's meaningless waffle, and less rein on her temper for liars. "Tell your mate I'll think about it. My father might not agree, whether or not I choose to speak with him."
The brown tabby, pitifully thin and woebegone, leapt to his feet with an anxious nod. He hesitated, then at Starredmyst's raised eyebrow scampered off to his duties. Chances were the high-ranked young she-cat wouldn't remember his name by sunhigh.
Lithe muscles rippling in a shrug that soon morphed itself into an outright stretch, Starredmyst took a deep breath of the dew-laden morning air and padded over to a quiet spot in camp, a sunning rock with a clear view of the sunrise over the eastern ocean and cliffside. A light breeze ruffled her fur as she gazed out, half-dozing brain meandering in this direction and that with thought.
Perhaps she would appeal to Patchstar on the warrior's behalf. He seemed like a nice enough fellow, all kissing-up aside, and Starredmyst never really agreed with her father's policy of returning disliked queens to duty as soon as possible. The young she-cat gave herself an inner shrug and lay down on the stone, paws folded neatly underneath her. The sun began its true ascent up above the horizon.
The sun was a small golden ball on the horizon, invisible in the southward-facing apprentice den, but making itself felt by the radiating brilliance dawn threw across the entire sky.
A young apprentice blinked and squeezed his eyes shut, a sleepy protest mewling deep in his throat. He shifted as that light pierced through his comfortable dreams, revealing a patch of soft white chest fur amidst his complicated ginger-tabby-calico pattern, and the cat next to him gave its own protesting meow.
Nightpaw's eyes slowly blinked open, and he sat up with a wide yawn. The sun was already over the horizon -- what was he doing in bed? Shaking himself awake, the apprentice bounced to his paws and ducked out of the den, trotting out to greet the new day.
It was quiet out, not as late as he'd thought; the gleam of water doubled the early light, making it seem later than it was. One of those weird things about the apprentice den -- the nursery was set farther back in the caves and didn't get so much of the double-effect. There were a few cats acting busy who he didn't know, and there was his cousin Starredmyst, sitting on a rock and gazing out to sea. Nightpaw started over in her direction with a cheerful hello in his throat, but hesitated with a paw in the air. His unofficial sometime-mentor seemed to be in a quiet, introspective mood, one that suited the morning. He wasn't keen to interrupt it, and there were other things to do. With a mental shrug, the young tom turned toward the shoreline and waded into the water, deciding to see if he could catch one of the tiny minnows that darted around his feet, silvery flashes in the dawn light. Odds were he'd soak himself by the time the rest of the Clan woke up.
It was as though, by thinking about him, Starredmyst has summoned her father to wakefulness.
The sun was peeking into the air and drawing its gold light back into itself as Patchstar rose from his sleep, as suddenly and completely awake as if he had been awake for hours. One moment, he was asleep; the next, totally and fully aware of his surroundings with none of the jolt one usually felt upon a sudden rising. With a shrug to destiny's choice this morning, the heavyset tom arose from his nest and walked out of his den.
The unfortunate cats set to night or predawn duties scrambled up as they saw him, greeting him with a hasty feline salute and all the deference owed the leader of IvoryClan. The black-and-white tom ignored them completely, instead padding onward -- not even glancing back when the cats returned to their duties or headed for bed at last with some relief -- heading steadily for the pretty young cat he had noted the instant he'd stepped outside, who had not moved an inch since he'd first looked at her.
"My, you're up early, dear heart."
The words were quiet as he reached her, gentle soft ones meant not to break the mood. But his daughter started nonetheless, and glanced at her father with eyes made wide by surprise.
"Father!" Starredmyst burst out, then quickly checked herself and her volume. "I'm sorry. You startled me."
"Hmm." The bulky tom lay down next to his daughter, and she obligingly made room; he repeated, "You are up early, though, my dear. Why are you frowning?"
The she-cat shook her head, quickly banishing the expression. "It's nothing, Dad. I was -- thinking."
"Do you usually think this early in the morning?" the leader asked, deep voice warmed with amusement. Starredmyst sat up to look her father full in the face, arching an eyebrow.
"Maybe if you'd bother to get up earlier, you'd notice," she replied tartly. "Father, one of the night-fishers approached me this morning."
At once that angry-protective edge all fathers possess flashed into the flabby tom's eye, and he sat up as well. "He wasn't bothering you?" the tom snapped, immediately hunting around for the offender. Starr let out a huff of exasperated sigh.
"No, father dear, he wasn't bothering me. Matter of fact, it was you he wanted to talk to, but you've been ignoring him. His name was -- mm -- Soulreaper. His mate's one of the ones whose kits you took."
The older tom relaxed, just a hair, and snorted at the thought. "Soulreaper? I may know the cat. What of it?"
"His mate's frantic with worry about her kit. There's only one, and it was weak, and it got assigned to a queen with too many heads to count already. She's terrified it will die."
She had her father's full attention now, as she was generally able to do with a pout or acid word. He stared at her for a moment after she finished her short speech, clearly not comprehending something about what she had said. He waited, a long moment, for her to say more, then when she didn't prompted, "And?"
That earned another disgusted sigh. "She wants to know if she can have it back, Father. So that it doesn't starve."
It was as though she'd asked to him to chew the kit's food and spit it out. Patchstar looked at his daughter, appalled. "And why would I do that?"
Starredmyst gave him an irritated look, and repeated with some impatience, "So that her kit doesn't starve..."
The tom scoffed. "One kit; what does it matter? Don't be foolish, Starr. I can't have such a breakdown of discipline! I give you a lot of leeway, dear, but don't ask into matters you know nothing of."
Starr's eyes widened at the unexpected rebuke. She stared at her father for a long moment, then narrowed her eyes, standing and turning to go with a flick of her tail.
"Fine, then. Don't come asking for my advice next time Moonwhisker's too busy taking care of things you don't bother to manage."
She marched off before he could say another word, heading for a quiet spot on the other edge of camp. Soulreaper saw her as he headed to the warrior's den for the day, and opened his mouth in hopeful inquiry; but she pushed past him without a word, head down so he wouldn't see her face. The sun was high in the sky now, and she had to wend her way through a crowd of waking cats to find the solitude she sought.
I don't understand you, Father. I love you, StarClan swear it, but I don't understand you. I don't know if it's something we're ever going to work out.
OOc;{{Btw, Nightpaw needs a mentor. Anyone interested? And YAY LONG INTROS right? xDD}}
It was a cool morning in late leaf-fall, and the horizon was just touched with pink and gold. Few cats were up at this time of day -- the night patrol returning to warm dens, other cats with duties to be completed before the sun rose, the occasional restless sleeper -- but Starredmyst had been having trouble sleeping lately.
The young she-cat yawned expressively as she examined the tom who had approached her, the camp's cool sand drawing the heat from her thick blue-grey fur. Her pale green eyes narrowed with cold amusement at the supplicant, and he flicked his ears uneasily, earnest gaze wavering and not meeting hers.
"Thank you for all of those compliments, Soulreaver," Starremyst replied finally, with a touch of acid sarcasm in her rough voice. "I'm sure you meant them with all of your heart."
"Oh, certainly, Dear --"
"I'll think about it," she cut the out-of-favor warrior off, rising to her paws with a graceful flick of her long-furred tail. The leader's daughter had little patience for a toady's meaningless waffle, and less rein on her temper for liars. "Tell your mate I'll think about it. My father might not agree, whether or not I choose to speak with him."
The brown tabby, pitifully thin and woebegone, leapt to his feet with an anxious nod. He hesitated, then at Starredmyst's raised eyebrow scampered off to his duties. Chances were the high-ranked young she-cat wouldn't remember his name by sunhigh.
Lithe muscles rippling in a shrug that soon morphed itself into an outright stretch, Starredmyst took a deep breath of the dew-laden morning air and padded over to a quiet spot in camp, a sunning rock with a clear view of the sunrise over the eastern ocean and cliffside. A light breeze ruffled her fur as she gazed out, half-dozing brain meandering in this direction and that with thought.
Perhaps she would appeal to Patchstar on the warrior's behalf. He seemed like a nice enough fellow, all kissing-up aside, and Starredmyst never really agreed with her father's policy of returning disliked queens to duty as soon as possible. The young she-cat gave herself an inner shrug and lay down on the stone, paws folded neatly underneath her. The sun began its true ascent up above the horizon.
The sun was a small golden ball on the horizon, invisible in the southward-facing apprentice den, but making itself felt by the radiating brilliance dawn threw across the entire sky.
A young apprentice blinked and squeezed his eyes shut, a sleepy protest mewling deep in his throat. He shifted as that light pierced through his comfortable dreams, revealing a patch of soft white chest fur amidst his complicated ginger-tabby-calico pattern, and the cat next to him gave its own protesting meow.
Nightpaw's eyes slowly blinked open, and he sat up with a wide yawn. The sun was already over the horizon -- what was he doing in bed? Shaking himself awake, the apprentice bounced to his paws and ducked out of the den, trotting out to greet the new day.
It was quiet out, not as late as he'd thought; the gleam of water doubled the early light, making it seem later than it was. One of those weird things about the apprentice den -- the nursery was set farther back in the caves and didn't get so much of the double-effect. There were a few cats acting busy who he didn't know, and there was his cousin Starredmyst, sitting on a rock and gazing out to sea. Nightpaw started over in her direction with a cheerful hello in his throat, but hesitated with a paw in the air. His unofficial sometime-mentor seemed to be in a quiet, introspective mood, one that suited the morning. He wasn't keen to interrupt it, and there were other things to do. With a mental shrug, the young tom turned toward the shoreline and waded into the water, deciding to see if he could catch one of the tiny minnows that darted around his feet, silvery flashes in the dawn light. Odds were he'd soak himself by the time the rest of the Clan woke up.
It was as though, by thinking about him, Starredmyst has summoned her father to wakefulness.
The sun was peeking into the air and drawing its gold light back into itself as Patchstar rose from his sleep, as suddenly and completely awake as if he had been awake for hours. One moment, he was asleep; the next, totally and fully aware of his surroundings with none of the jolt one usually felt upon a sudden rising. With a shrug to destiny's choice this morning, the heavyset tom arose from his nest and walked out of his den.
The unfortunate cats set to night or predawn duties scrambled up as they saw him, greeting him with a hasty feline salute and all the deference owed the leader of IvoryClan. The black-and-white tom ignored them completely, instead padding onward -- not even glancing back when the cats returned to their duties or headed for bed at last with some relief -- heading steadily for the pretty young cat he had noted the instant he'd stepped outside, who had not moved an inch since he'd first looked at her.
"My, you're up early, dear heart."
The words were quiet as he reached her, gentle soft ones meant not to break the mood. But his daughter started nonetheless, and glanced at her father with eyes made wide by surprise.
"Father!" Starredmyst burst out, then quickly checked herself and her volume. "I'm sorry. You startled me."
"Hmm." The bulky tom lay down next to his daughter, and she obligingly made room; he repeated, "You are up early, though, my dear. Why are you frowning?"
The she-cat shook her head, quickly banishing the expression. "It's nothing, Dad. I was -- thinking."
"Do you usually think this early in the morning?" the leader asked, deep voice warmed with amusement. Starredmyst sat up to look her father full in the face, arching an eyebrow.
"Maybe if you'd bother to get up earlier, you'd notice," she replied tartly. "Father, one of the night-fishers approached me this morning."
At once that angry-protective edge all fathers possess flashed into the flabby tom's eye, and he sat up as well. "He wasn't bothering you?" the tom snapped, immediately hunting around for the offender. Starr let out a huff of exasperated sigh.
"No, father dear, he wasn't bothering me. Matter of fact, it was you he wanted to talk to, but you've been ignoring him. His name was -- mm -- Soulreaper. His mate's one of the ones whose kits you took."
The older tom relaxed, just a hair, and snorted at the thought. "Soulreaper? I may know the cat. What of it?"
"His mate's frantic with worry about her kit. There's only one, and it was weak, and it got assigned to a queen with too many heads to count already. She's terrified it will die."
She had her father's full attention now, as she was generally able to do with a pout or acid word. He stared at her for a moment after she finished her short speech, clearly not comprehending something about what she had said. He waited, a long moment, for her to say more, then when she didn't prompted, "And?"
That earned another disgusted sigh. "She wants to know if she can have it back, Father. So that it doesn't starve."
It was as though she'd asked to him to chew the kit's food and spit it out. Patchstar looked at his daughter, appalled. "And why would I do that?"
Starredmyst gave him an irritated look, and repeated with some impatience, "So that her kit doesn't starve..."
The tom scoffed. "One kit; what does it matter? Don't be foolish, Starr. I can't have such a breakdown of discipline! I give you a lot of leeway, dear, but don't ask into matters you know nothing of."
Starr's eyes widened at the unexpected rebuke. She stared at her father for a long moment, then narrowed her eyes, standing and turning to go with a flick of her tail.
"Fine, then. Don't come asking for my advice next time Moonwhisker's too busy taking care of things you don't bother to manage."
She marched off before he could say another word, heading for a quiet spot on the other edge of camp. Soulreaper saw her as he headed to the warrior's den for the day, and opened his mouth in hopeful inquiry; but she pushed past him without a word, head down so he wouldn't see her face. The sun was high in the sky now, and she had to wend her way through a crowd of waking cats to find the solitude she sought.
I don't understand you, Father. I love you, StarClan swear it, but I don't understand you. I don't know if it's something we're ever going to work out.
OOc;{{Btw, Nightpaw needs a mentor. Anyone interested? And YAY LONG INTROS right? xDD}}
