tis the season [ashcloud] | GOSSAMER ; a literate warriors rpg

clans of england

LEAFBARE 2014

shadowclan

littlestar (mia)

smallclaw

n/a

total: 12

thunderclan

blizzardstar

paleflower

doe-eyes

total: 15

riverclan

milkstar

n/a

ravenpaw

total: 13

windclan

emberfang

n/a

briarheart

total: 14

skyclan

whitestar

ryecloud

mothdust

total: 10

DISCOURAGED: none

tis the season [ashcloud] Dec 2, 2013 20:03:45 GMT -8

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Dec 2, 2013 20:03:45 GMT -8

Leafbare was decidedly not Sootpaw's favorite season. Granted, she'd only been able to experience leaf-fall and greenleaf aside from the current season, but so far, the gangly apprentice was not a fan. The air was frigid and burrowed beneath her coat to nip at her skin, and her breath billowed in front of her muzzle when she exhaled. And for the life of her Sootpaw could not figure out why; nobody else knew either. It was an unknown, a question without an answer. Which drove her right up a tree and down the other side. Her mother thought it hilarious, watching her nosy daughter with fond eyes and a smiling muzzle.

But Stormnose wasn't the only maternal figure in Sootpaw's life. Like most of the younger apprentices and all the kits, she'd grown up with the presence of the crippled queen Ashcloud in the nursery. Some of the others had thought the gray queen weaker for her injury, but Sootpaw had simply been full of questions. How had it happened? Did it hurt still? Why wasn't she a warrior anymore? Did she want to be? Stormnose had dragged her away by the scruff before the last two, asked back to back and in a single breath, could be answered. Still, she swore she'd seen some hint of pain in the older she-cat's eyes. Mother had scolded her afterwards, which only cemented her belief that what she'd seen hadn't been the angle of the light reflecting off of Ashcloud's eyes.

Those two thoughtless questions asked in naive innocence had stuck with her, though, simmering just at the back of her mind. Until her apprentice ceremony. Sootpaw had been so excited, tripping over herself and causing her brother to laugh at her. They had come back to nip at her, ears and nose and paws and tail-tip, when she lay curled up in her new nest in the apprentice den, the sleepless night before forcing her racing mind to cede to the exhaustion of her body. The questions kept her awake while her eyelids sagged and her body began to feel heavy. Would Sootpaw miss being an apprentice if she suffered a similar injury? Would she want to keep being an apprentice even with an injury like that?

Naturally, the answer was of course she would still want to be an apprentice, still want to learn and discover and train. But that was limited by whether or not her body and injury would allow it. Sootpaw didn't think she'd let an injury permanently keep her in camp. She'd train and make herself able to hunt and fight again. Or at least hunt, which was less demanding on a cat's range of movement. That thought firmly in mind, Sootpaw knew that it would have to stew for a while before she knew what her mind really wanted to tell her. If she left the puzzle pieces alone, Sootpaw sometimes found that it would solve itself while she focused on other things.

This time, she focused on fetching a frog for the queen. Sootpaw's mentor was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but the gray she-cat had found that she never got in trouble for not training rigorously if she pitched in around camp. Doing that was so very simple that she didn't understand why her fellows were ever scolded for laziness or idle paws. She plucked a bloated frog from its precarious position perched at the pinnacle of the pile and carried it to the nursery. "Ashcloud? I've brought you something." The words came out muffled, slipping out wherever the frog did not occupy her jaws.

soot burns brain cells → 600 → for ashcloud

sootpaw

tis the season [ashcloud] Dec 3, 2013 18:50:10 GMT -8

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Dec 3, 2013 18:50:10 GMT -8

Ashcloud had curled in on herself. She had sequestered herself far in the back of the Nursery, facing one bramble wall. This was highly unusual behavior for the gentle perma-queen. If anything, Ashcloud was rarely found more than a pawstep away from a waiting kitten. Being that she had never been (and likely would never be) a biological mother to any kittens, a majority of her time was spent as a sort of step-in mother, to give the other queens a break, a chance to slip from the confines of the Nursery. Her fur almost constantly smelled slightly of milk and hopeful youth. Yet in this moment, hidden away from the quiet murmur of Nursery activity, Ashcloud was barely discernable as a queen of any sort. In fact, she almost could have passed for an outsider, an awkward trespasser lurking in the shadows. In reality, Ashcloud’s activities were far more innocent than her posture and position might have suggested. Some might have cast her mistrusting glances. But in all honesty, most tended to let their gazes roll over her. Often, it was preferable to risking that she might catch the flash of pity in their eyes. Then again, anything was better than pity.

However, Ashcloud’s activities at that moment had nothing to do with pity. Rather, she was simply washing herself. Specifically, she was washing her twisted paw. Most times, the limb remained tucked securely out of view beneath her. But at times like this, when a thorough cleaning was both necessary and well-deserved, Ashcloud thought it better to slink away. She would never risk parading her mangled limb before such young impressionable creatures. Though she had as of yet never heard any screeches of horror, any kittens suffering nightmares, she could still imagine vividly. She never took the chance. So it was she came to be curled at the back of the Nursery, timidly cleaning the mangled limb that had cost her life as a warrior. It was awkward, deformed and in truth almost sickening. The angle was unnatural, the toes nearly indiscernible. She had long since grown accustomed to the sight. How could she not, in some way or another she was forced to see it – to stare at it – every day. She finished the final flick of her tongue between what had once been toes. With only a slight shake of her legs, she managed to rise. She cradled her paw against her chest, not only for comfort but in an attempt to bury it in her fur, hide it from view as she hobbled back towards the front of the Nursery.

She had just settled herself down, complete with her paw tucked out of view, when a small shape approached. She lifted her head. She recognized Sootpaw immediately, not only by her voice, but by the accompanying scent. How could Ashcloud ever forget? She had helped raise Sootpaw, had been a second mother to the young apprentice, as she had been to so many other of the clan’s youth. Sootpaw spoke, mumbling around a small frog. Guilt immediately pooled in the young queen’s stomach. She couldn’t refuse such a gift, but neither could she consume the sweet meat without tasting dirt on her tongue. She didn’t deserve such a gift, prey that should have gone to feed the clan’s warriors, the elders, the more deserving. For what had she done to deserve their nourishment, their support? She forced a smile, dipping her head in gratitude. “Thank you, Sootpaw, how kind.” Yet she didn’t move to take a bite. Perhaps, when Sootpaw inevitably wandered away, she could give the frog to some queen more deserving.