Is it new-leaf yet? As the cold continues to permeate across the island, the clans and tribe settle into one of the worst leaf-bares in seasons. Likewise, we're sure the rest of us could do without the cold ourselves, right? This month we have a slew of site updates, a new art contest, OTM winners and nominations, and our usual plot updates, so make sure to check out the February Announcements! Additionally, we have a few new patrols and a game-plan for our patrols from September, October, and December, so make sure to check those out as well!
The Apostles is a warrior cats roleplay based in northern Wisconsin. On Lake Superior, the wild cats have made the Apostle Islands their home. It is on these islands - Rocky Island and South Twin Island - that the clan and tribe cats have lived in a peace and harmony that ebbs and flows with the tide.
But as the tides turn, so does the truce that binds them to one another; and as the water raises, a darkness follows, an evil that will end in bloodshed and violence.
Post by Egotistic on Sept 29, 2019 12:18:16 GMT -6
T
he warm summer sun beat down uncomfortably, even upon the sheltered forest floor of ThistleClan territory. It was something Ratwhisker was becoming increasingly aware of, his pelt so thin the heat practically scorched the skin beneath, and as he sat there, ears set into a constant, agitated twitch due to the cloud of gnats that plagued him, he found he could do little more than shift his paws and bear it.
The sun had only just fully risen, bringing with it the usual throng of vexing insects. In his ears, they buzzed, a constant irritant, but one he found he could ignore for the time being. After all, it was not often he afforded himself time to idle as he did now, and mice would fly before he let a few bugs and a little heat send him packing for his den.
For today marked a special occasion. Today he had finally found the time and courage to visit Yarrowfrost’s resting place—the very burial ground he’d so stubbornly avoided since his own paws had helped shift the earth over her lifeless body.
And yet, there he was, his green eyes peering out at the still, artificial hump that rose from the earth. Already it had been overrun by greenery; it could easily be missed by the passing eye or mistaken for a natural bump in the terrain. But having helped in digging it himself, its protrusion was hard to mistake or miss. For underneath, beneath the packed earth, solidified by the rain and constant heat, a cat lay buried. Gone, but certainly not forgotten—especially not by him.
For there lied Yarrowfrost—ThistleClan’s former and much-beloved medicine cat.
He took in the rise of earth, curling his tail ever-tighter around his paws. A lump was forming in his throat; he was quick to swallow it down as he extended a paw to place it gently on the upheaval of soil. “Yarrowfrost… it’s me—I’ve come to visit. And look, I even brought you flowers—the kind you like.” He turned and sifted in the grass with his muzzle, coming up with a small bundle of white-petaled flowers. Small and dainty, though their appearance suggested fragility, they were hardy little things, and for that reason, his mentors favorite. But even they could not ignore the taxing Greenleaf heat, and their pale-petaled heads drooped in his jaws as he moved to place their limp little forms on the peak of Yarrowfrost’s burial ground. There he laid them to rest, a slight, melancholy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I know you’re probably scolding me right now for wasting my time here, but… to be honest with you, I thought maybe I could ask you for some advice.” A gust of wind blew over his ears, though it did nothing to cure the stuffiness. “It’s just that, well…” he mulled over the words. “Things are, um… they’re changing, Yarrowfrost. Not just the seasons, but… I have a feeling tensions are rising across the border. I fear fighting may just break out, and when it does, I’m not sure I’ll be ready. I—” he paused, the tip of his tail making minute twitches. “…I’m not sure what I should be doing. Every day I seem to be gathering herbs, but I still can’t place a name or use to some of them. If a war were to break out, I don’t think I could manage… I don’t think I’m ready. I need you, Yarrowfrost—more than you know.” His words ended on a strained note as he lowered himself onto his stomach, resting his chin between his paws. “And I know you’re probably scowling down at me right now,” he added, a soft laugh leaving him. “But I can’t help it. I need you… so, please… send me a sign—something—just to know you’re here. Please. Tell me what I should do like you used to.”
Shutting his eyes, he pushed the cool leather of his nose against the forest floor, hunching his shoulders beneath his pelt and sucking in a wavering breath. “Something… someone… anything. Just let me know you’re here…”
Silence swathed over him like a blanket, interrupted only by the buzz of the insects and the occasional snap and rustle of the forest around him. But still, there was nothing. No sign or scent of anything out of the ordinary—
Crck-crkll... Snnnappp!
His head shot up suddenly, turning to peer warily over his shoulder. That hadn’t been the ambiance; something—or rather, someone was moving close by… and none too quietly at that. He blinked, feeling the muscles in his shoulders stiffen, preparing for flight, only to relax ever-so-slightly as a feline shape parted the surrounding undergrowth.
As for who it was that approached him… that he did not know, though he strained to get a better look from where he lay.
- I AM AS BAD AS THE WORST AND AS GOOD AS THE BEST -
Hawktail's lithe body brushed through the undergrowth, unfazed by the pull as branches grabbed her hide. She welcomed them with an arch of her back to scratch her itches. Her broad set of jaws hung open as she sucked in the warm day's air. She could practically taste the water and flora surrounding her on the island. Greenleaf was a time that the forest and Clans flourished, but it wasn't any cause for Hawktail to let her guard down. This was one of the best opportunities for a Clan to seize more for itself. The prey was running, the weather was forgiving, and most importantly - warriors were at their strongest. She wasn't worried about RedwoodClan or LichenClan trying to take ThistleClan territory. That would never happen; she wouldn't let them. It wouldn't be such a terrible idea for ThistleClan to expand, though.
As Hawktail slunk along the forest floor, headed for the border, she suddenly stopped in her tracks. There was a voice, quiet, but nearby somewhere. Sniffing the air once more, she got the whiff of a Clan-mate. Their scent was.. adult, male... aaand clouded in a flowery scent she couldn't specify. Curious and slightly vexxed - because what respectable warrior would go romping around in flowers? - Hawktail pursued their trail. She was fully prepared to give them a good mouthing off about wasting time and would order them to accompany her to check the border. That was, until she heard the contents of their words.
Hawktail thought she recognized the voice of Ratwhisker, the medicine cat. He was speaking to Yarrowfrost, his predecessor, about all of the doubts fogging his meager mind. Admitting that he could not even remember the uses of herbs. Hawktail's brows furrowed deeply. She was still annoyed, but for a different reason now. She did not feel anything for him in that moment; not sympathy nor understanding. Her tail-tip twitched side-to-side thoughtfully. To be quite honest, she didn't give a rat's whisker.
"Screw this, I'm leaving," she muttered to herself and turned her long body to go, but as she stepped, she broke a twig lying on the ground. It made a surprisingly loud sound. Did he notice? No, yep, he definitely had. His big eyes and batty ears stared right at her. Moving out from among the shadowy foliage, Hawktail straightened her posture. "Sorry!" she said, rather unapologetic, "I thought there was some mouse-brained warrior out here wasting time, but I was only half right." she didn't bother biting that one back, hovering where she stood between leaving and staying.
It was a bit concerning, however; the contents of what he had been saying. Maybe she could nudge him in the right direction. After all, he was valuable in that he was the only one ThistleClan had for healing their sick or injured. If he was failing at that, well, something needed to be done. "You know," she raised her brows as she spoke, "Maybe... you can go talk to one of those other medicine cats - you know, the ones that are alive - and ask them a few things. There's supposed to be a cute little truce between all of you, right? 'Cause I highly doubt Yarrowfrost over there is gonna rise from the dead just to tell you what cobwebs are for, ok, but... hey, I'm no spiritual shaman voodoo kitty, so don't take my word for it!"
550+ words, hawk doesn't give a rat's whisker. did ya catch that? haha..ha
n truth, Ratwhisker wasn’t sure who he’d expected to come striding from the undergrowth, but in the back of his mind, there was one thing he was sure of—it was that the condemning voice heralding their approach was not one he felt at all delighted in sharing his company with. In fact, if anything, he felt quite the opposite and battled with the underlying urge to flee—an urge he squashed with a great deal of resolve and, in small part, an inkling of curiosity at who it was addressing him. Then he was met with a familiar sight—a coat of black-ticked fur and piercing green eyes that looked as pleased to see him as he was to see them. Hawktail.
Moons older than he, he knew the she-cat only in passing and reputation. But then that was all the exposure one needed; everyone knew the she-cat was possessing of a scathing tongue and an equally cutting personality. It was the sort of disposition that ThisteClan was most notoriously known, and yet still, though she represented it in all of its crassness, it was one he was, even now, poorly accustomed to. Which was why, as she straightened at the sight of him, he fought with the building tension in his head and the nervous heightening of his breath.
“I thought there was some mouse-brained warrior out here wasting time, but I was only half right.”
Her words caused him to flinch, but he did little in the way of defending himself from the slight to his person. Instead, his whiskers only seemed to droop and his ears wilt at her impertinence. Not that she’s wrong, he thought to himself with a pang of guilt. After all, her words, though curt, rang with truth; he was of no use to his clan dawdling over old graves, wallowing in his own self-pity, and neither his clan nor his stores benefited from such mindless self-indulgence, a fact the two of them knew all too well. But even in acknowledgment of that fact, it did little in allowing him to receive her words with any sort of grace, and he stared at her for a time with sheepish wonder before he regained a bit of his sense.
Fumbling clumsily, he straightened, scrounging up a semblance of courage in the process to speak. But no sooner had the first utterance of a word escaped him than Hawktail began again, and he was forced into dumbfounded silence, only this time he was relieved to be met not with insults, but an offered suggestion.
Of course—the other medicine cats. The tip of his tail gave a small twitch. If there were anyone in the forest that could understand his dilemma—even just a little—it would be them. But then… there was only one issue with meeting them—a serious bone of contention, if you will—that had kept him well away from the border. It came to mind as he finally addressed her.
“There’s a truce, yes, but… well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Hawktail, but something is going on between those two”—those two meaning RedwoodClan and LichenClan—“…something bad—very bad. And, well, I don’t think it would be safe crossing into enemy territory—not now, at least. It wouldn’t be wise.”
Medicine cat though he was, there was still a small part of him that held a warrior’s suspicion when it came to their feline neighbors. Not due to any malice, but a simple mistrust held by many when met with someone whose way of life and values so vastly differed from their own. And when it came to the medicine cats, though he’d made their acquaintance and familiarized himself with them well enough during the half-moon meetings, he was no friend of theirs, and as such, they had no obligation in helping him. Not to mention what the leaders would think. Who knows what sort of conclusions they’d come to, seeing me coming for help… the thought filled him with foreboding, and his tongue darted out to rasp across his lips—a nervous habit of his.
“Besides, I doubt Thievingstar would want me parading to our enemies that we’re without a knowledgeable medicine cat. It’s bad enough the clan knows—I can’t imagine what the other’s would think, though it can't be much different from what everyone that already knows does,” he found himself adding, allowing himself a small, deprecating laugh.
In truth, though, despite his laughter, the last thing the clan needed now with the weather changing the way it was was for anyone to suspect them of weakness, and he was loath to be the cause of it.
"No, I don't suppose that would be such a good idea after all."
- I AM AS BAD AS THE WORST AND AS GOOD AS THE BEST -
Hawktail's lip curled ever so slightly, a subtle sign of her disgust. She was a proud warrior, yes, but was she proud to a fault? No, she didn't like to think so. What Ratwhisker was proposing was a risk of lost lives in the name of pride. Hawktail shook her head slowly, letting his words really sink in as she mulled over what that meant for ThistleClan as a whole. Her thin tail lashed and her mind reeled. He was an incompetent medicine cat, selfishly protecting his own image and blaming the rest of his Clan for it. Yet the ones who would suffer were the ones who would fight to protect his scrawny ass.
Hawktail crouched down suddenly, eyes locked onto Ratwhisker as she bunched up the muscles in her hindquarters. Not even a moment passed in between actions; she sprang at him to pull him down beneath her. "Don't fight back," she warned with a growl, "because if you do, then I will leave you with deep wounds, and what then? Huh?" she snapped, bringing her face close to his so that their noses smashed together, "Do you really think that they won't soon set their claws on us? Or that we won't take advantage of their weaknesses? Don't be so naive, Ratwhisker. Peace is coming to an end, leaf-fall is almost here, and all those herbs have a use. I heard what you said, that you don't know what to do, that you think you're not ready." She backed off then, getting off of him to let him up.
"That's not an option anymore," she glared at him, body stiffening, "if I have to drag you across the border and into their camps myself, I will. You will not be so selfish as to let us all die of infected, pus-filled wounds just because you don't want to admit your own shortcomings! Or I might go parade to Thievingstar that our only medicine cat is incompetent and ill-prepared. Do you think she'd like that much better?" She finished with a huff, claws unsheathed as she imagined shredding his ears for his idiocy. It had taken everything in her not to, but he was the only one. Either he was an asset, or he was foxdung. She would give him a chance, though, and this was her version of that. He needed to realize the gravity of his own situation. He could not put pride above the needs of the Clan.
is tongue rasping nervously over his lips, he found himself growing steadily more anxious in the warrior’s presence. Had he said something wrong? he wondered, for something in the way Hawktail looked at him suggested that, perhaps, he had. And was that disgust he saw there? Had what he said truly been that abhorrent to elicit such an expression of loathing?
Oh, without a doubt. Do you realize how much of a coward you sounded like back there? Pathetic.
Again, the small voice pricked his conscious, and he withdrew ever so slightly, further put off by the persisting silence. “Hawktail, I—”
But his words were abruptly silenced; a great weight had fallen on him, crushing him, holding him firmly in place. Then there was a blast of warm breath on his face and a barked threat, one that was quick to put an end to his struggling.
“Do you really think that they won’t soon set their claws on us? Or that we won’t take advantage of their weaknesses? Don’t be so naïve, Ratwhisker. Peace is coming to an end, leaf-fall is almost here, and all those herbs have a use.”
Something about that sent a ripple of dread through him. With the colder moons fast approaching, the last thing ThistleClan—or any clan for that matter—needed was fighting. But then he remembered his first meeting with his ancestors and their warning of a great change. Perhaps it was time for that change. But why now? Could it not wait until the clans were better off—when the winters no longer cut and battered at their bodies and forced the prey underground? Was StarClan no merciful to the plights of leaf-bare?
Despite himself, something within him thought otherwise, and as the weight lifted from his shoulders and he was allowed to stand—something he did not feel inclined to do, and as a result remained crouched—unease only furthered his discomfort at the implications.
I’m not ready. I need more time.
But whether he needed more time or not, it was no matter to anyone, something Hawktail was quick to point out as she went on.
“You will not be so selfish as to let us all die of infected, puss-filled wounds just because you don’t want to admit your own shortcomings. Or I might go parade to Thievingstar that our only medicine cat is incompetent and ill-prepared. Do you think she’d like that much better?”
Though the question was rhetorical, he could not help but utter a miserable, “No.” Then he added more clearly: “No, and that… that wasn’t what I meant! Surely you understand that, Hawktail. ThistleClan means everything to me—I… I would never sit by and let my clanmates suffer without reason.”
So then why haven’t you seen the other medicine cats? Why do you still sit here waiting for the answers to come to you when you’ve had ever means to hunt them down yourself?
Again came the voice, and again he found it was not wrong.
“It’s just… something is coming—and soon—to the forest—to all of us. And I, well, I don’t know…” His eyes shifted from side to side, questing for the right words. “I just… I’m afraid—and If you knew the thing I do, maybe you would be too. But… regardless, you’re right. I am being selfish; nothing will get solved by me sitting here, speaking to old spirits.” He glanced towards Yarrowfrost’s resting place. “So, I guess… what I should do is speak to Thievingstar. And then, I’ll… well, I’ll figure the rest out from there.”
And soon. I should go now.
Moving to stand, he paused, his round eyes settling on Hawktail. It felt wrong, leaving without saying something, and though only moments ago she’d set in him the sort of mortal fear he thought reserved for only his cruelest enemies, he could not help the budding respect he felt in regards to the ruddy she-cat. Harsh though her words had been, they had helped ground him.
“Thank you, Hawktail. I… you may not believe in such things, but I think it was the will of StarClan, what brought us together, and, well… I’m glad that they sent you.” Turning, he again made to leave, then found himself stalling. “Oh, and if I ever need an escort into enemy territory, I’ll make sure to bring you along.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his muzzle before he turned, and with one last glance over his shoulder, he set out into the undergrowth, his steps for once borne by a conviction he had not known himself capable of.
- I AM AS BAD AS THE WORST AND AS GOOD AS THE BEST -
Rather than continuing to berate the young medicine cat, Hawktail listened. She kept opening her mouth to cut him off, but found herself... unable to get the words out. When Ratwhisker revealed to her that a change was coming, it caused a shift within her. She hadn't reallyknown, she just wanted change and she would make it happen. If a medicine cat - skilled or not - [with connections to the powers-that-be] said that change was coming, then it had to be certain. There wasn't a shrivel of doubt in him when he had said that, which was uncharacteristic of him as far as Hawktail knew.
Hawktail was mulling over what she could possibly interpret from what he'd said, when he stood up to leave. She met his gaze, searching it. Of course, she thought, almost bitterly, he would not involve me in such a matter. This conversation belongs to him and Thievingstar.
"You'd better," was all she said in response to him promising to bring her along, but the acrimony had left her voice at that point. "Do right by our Clan, Ratwhisker, or I will want to know why not."
She stood rigid as the lithesome tom picked his way through the undergrowth, following him with her piercing eyes until he disappeared. With a heavy sigh, Hawktail sat down and wrapped her tail around her paws. Her gaze fell to the grave of Yarrowfrost, and a thoughtfulness eased her features. The will of StarClan... she pondered, flexing her claws into the earth beneath her.