Google dot com says the traditional gift for a four year anniversary is fruit & flowers?? How festive! In honor of our fourth year on the world wide web, we are requesting bouquets and fruit baskets or cash donations to the whip-a-rain-fund 😌 Oooooorrr we guess...alternatively...we can put on a big, month-long celebration featuring a warm-and-fuzzy event, scavenger hunt, a raffle drawing, and a freakin' prize wheel??! See the September Announcements for more information, and don't forget to check out the September Patrols too!
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.
He could not erase the smile on his face, simple and sweet. It lingered as he watched his kin, his mate, disappear into the ferns that composed RedwoodClan's entrancing forest. He kept his eyes upon them as long as he dared, watching Daffodilshimmer's tail - raised with the pleasantness of the night - disappear into the darkness.
Slowly, he turned back to LichenClan's territory with a deep sigh. Time to return I suppose. He shifted from one paw to the next, hesitating for a heartbeat, and then another. The sky was beginning to purple at the edges, yet he still had a while he believed until the dawn patrol would make its round in earnest. With a glance, he looked back to the forest beyond, a yearning within his heart that he could hardly describe.
And when he turned back to LichenClan's birches, he saw narrowed amber eyes glaring back at him. He could smell his own fear in the air as he opened his mouth to speak, swallowing first. "Falconfire! What are you doing at the border?" He questioned, green eyes wide and innocent, pale fur practically glowing in the dim light of the moon. “You haven’t been out and about long, have you? I was just doing some late-night hunting myself, and didn’t even realize how close to dawn it was!” What might have been a good-natured chirp was overcome by a grimace. You didn’t see anything right? He couldn’t have…
and if i can't be those things let me be stubborn and doubt
Falconfire The air was excruciatingly cold, piercing through his thin fur and making the many scars that criss-crossed across his pelt feel as if they were burning. Clouds billowing before him as the warrior let out a hefty groan, Falconfire did little to pick up his pace. No, he rolled his eyes and only meandered on slower as the prized silence broke into useless small talk. Amber gaze moving from useless warrior to useless warrior, Falconfire cared not for his patrolmates, and he cared even less for the bitter weather.
The nursery was so warm, he complained to himself. The future father had helped move Wavefrost to the nursery the previous day, and Falconfire knew he’d much rather be at her side than be here and watch heathens cower before the RedwoodClan border.
It was infuriating, Falconfire’s tail flicked. The senior warrior felt like an apprentice, forced to remain passive with claws sheathed when heathens still filled the forest. When heathens still curse our clan! he grimaced. He cursed the damned new leader. And he cursed this damned patrol, knowing that if he saw a heathen at the border, he’d probably just have to sit there like a fool.
But all thoughts of RedwoodClan cleared his mind when a far more peculiar odor caught his attention. The patrol had finally made it to the border, and as they stared into the dead redwood forest, Falconfire was the only one who seemed to notice that there was a LichenClan scent here.
It appears someone went on their own dawn patrol. Lowering himself to the ground with parted jaws, the glands in his maw painted an even clearer picture of what had occurred.
With the stale RedwoodClan scent, the patrol was already turning around to inspect further north, but there was no way that the holy warrior would deny this opportunity provided to him by StarClan.
”Finish the patrol without me. My stomach isn’t feeling too well,” Falconfire demanded. And luckily, none of the heathens saw a reason to argue with him. They marched on without him, and Falconfire eyed a particularly tall birch tree up and down. Without hesitation, he leaped at the tree, claws hooking into the soft tabby bark. In a matter of leaps and bounds, he scaled the tree and hauled himself up on the thickest branch he could find. In green-leaf, the birch trees had made a perfect spot to hide and watch heathens from afar, now, he felt as if he stuck out like a sore thumb. But it didn't matter, I’m not the one who has something to hide, he mused. And if there’s really a traitor there, they have to come out eventually.
And come out they did.
Immediately, his analytical ambers snapped to movement in The RedwoodClan graveyard. He saw a queen and four other smaller cats first. He had to squint as they disappeared into their territory, but Falconfire was sure it was a queen and her kits. Traitor, Falconfire huffed, air fogging.
Then finally, the heathen showed himself, crossing the LichenClan border with haste. Of course, Falconfire wouldn’t allow that. For he recognized this tom. Chicorypelt, Falconfire hissed to himself. Claws unsheathed, he readied himself to spring at the traitorous white tom. It wasn’t the first time he had seen the traitor in action. No, at every gathering, the foolish warrior was far too eager to interact with RedwoodClan, and now, it all made sense.
Like Chicorypelt, Falconfire would soon be a father, but there wasn’t an ounce of empathy there. His kits would bless LichenClan, but Chicorypelt had committed a grave sin, and his blood with be tainted forever for his crimes. The Dark Forest awaits him, Falconfire knew. But can I really be the one to decide that?
There was no time to dwell on what he needed to do. Chicorypelt was already on the move, and before he could get far into LichenClan territory, Falconfire leaped from his perch and landed beside him. With a quick leap, he was before the traitor, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he had seen the crime happen, Falconfire could have just relied on the fear stench to decide who was and was not guilty. Guilt even laced his words and the warrior would have found it amusing if it wasn’t his ancestors Chicorypelt was betraying.
Falconfire answered his foolish questions simply. ”Watching,” he meowed, rolling his eyes. ”Long enough to know that you weren’t just hunting,” Falconfire answered. And with a huff, the tabby fell onto his haunches and glared at the dinner up and down.
"Go on. Explain to me what you were really doing just now."
Chicorypelt's heart beat loudly in his throat - blotting out the feeble tongue that felt swollen and wordless in his mouth. He fumbled over it, thoughts churning in his cheeks before finally, he managed to speak something - anything. "Look, Falconfire, it isn't what it looks like," He spoke with a shiver in his voice. I'm not quite sure what it does look like... did he see the kits? Did he see her? The thought of his fox-heart clanmate laying eyes upon Daffodilshimmer, even at a distance and with no intention to approach, left his claws extending and his skin crawling.
He turned to the blue tabby, a determination beginning to slink into his gaze. "Tell Yarrowstar all you like, okay? Do you really think he's going to believe you over someone from the rebellion, who fought by his side?" He very so much might. Why would Falconfire lie? Chicorypelt swallowed. Yarrowstar would probably believe the senior warrior. But...
"Even if you told Yarrowstar that you thought I was seeing someone outside of LichenClan and he believed you, do you think he'd even care?" Chicorypelt could feel in his chest that yes, even Yarrowstar would have qualms with forbidden affairs. And yet, there was a solemnness between the two LichenClanners in the knowledge that Falconfire would never receive the undue respect that he had before. The times of traitors were over - today was the time for peace and tranquility. Minnowstar would have him killed or banished for seeing Daffodilshimmer... Yarrowstar would never consider such a harsh sentence.
Chicorypelt stared at Falconfire, stare shifting from that of fear to one of challenge. "So go for it - tell him then, if you want to be yet another thorn in his rear. I'm sure it won't give you the respect you want." He was still and straight in his stance, his back beginning to arch as though preparing for a blow. He wasn't sure what to expect - he only hoped that Falconfire would see that complaining to Yarrowstar would not be the thing to gain him any favors from his clanmates.
and if i can't be those things let me be stubborn and doubt
It's absolutely what it looks like, huffed Falconfire, air billowing from his face as he rolled his eyes impossibly hard. His nose didn’t have to work too well to catch the foul stench that lingered on the heathen tom. He was standing just before him! ”You smell like RedwoodClan’s nursery,” Falconfire growled. And he moved closer, claws unsheathing, eager to see this sinner pay for his crimes.
Then Falconfire froze, composure dropping for but a moment. His tail stilled and eyes wide, Falconfire knew for a fact that what Chicorypelt spoke of was certainly true. Yarrowstar’s a fool, he thought through barred teeth, faltering. He won't do a damn thing. The realization left the formally respected warrior fuming, his teeth grit so hard he felt as if his fangs would burst from his mouth. It was hard to cast out the fire that suddenly had his veins broiling, the increase in his heart rate, the madness he felt at being made a fool. I'm not a fool, though. No. Falconfire knew exactly what StarClan wanted. He knew exactly that in StarClan's eyes, the clan had grown worse under that coward's rule. And he knew LichenClan would continue to rot from the inside if he didn't do something. Now.
"You're right, Chicorypelt," Falconfire sighed. "Yarrowstar won't do a thing. I wasn't going to tell him," Wiping the dumbfounded expression from off his face, the bloodthirsty tom continued in his pursuit. He didn't have time to worry about Yarrowstar's intentions, only for what he deemed as StarClan's will. "If you were competent at all, you'd know a true warrior isn't afraid to take StarClan's will into their own claws."
A flash of blue, Falconfire hardly gave the sinner a chance to react to his threatening words. Instantly, his claws connected and ripped through the flesh along the heathen's shoulders. Using all his strength, he forced the traitorous Chicorypelt to the ground where he could easily send him to The Dark Forest with a singular bite. There wasn't an ounce of hesitation there, Falconfire had slain heathens before and this certainly wouldn't be his last time. Of course it had been so simple in the past. He didn't at all have to worry for his own hide, but here, with the forest so silent, the holy warrior wondered what any onlookers would think of him.
His grip loosened.
"Run," Falconfire hissed lowly, moving so that Chicorypelt could escape. "Join your friends in RedwoodClan or die now," he meowed simply. Of course there was no escaping his crimes. Chicorypelt would pay, just not on LichenClan territory.
His hackles rose. He wasn't going to tell him? Then what- His heart beat rapidly. The scent of his fear whispered in the wind. He was grateful, in that brief moment, that the lazy breeze of leafbare pushed it briskly away from his clanmate and towards the border and beyond. Perhaps, Daffodilshimmer would smell it upon the air and it would draw her to find him. Maybe, she and he could face Falconfire and drive him away.
It was a foolish optimism. He should have known better.
And suddenly, the blue tabby was upon him. Claws rippled through his flesh like silvery fins breaking the lake’s surface. He felt the blood leaving him in hot spurts before the pain of the blow sunk deeply into his shoulders. But when the ache of it hit him, he could not hold in a bright yowl of pain. "What in the dark forest are you-" Chicorypelt was pressed sharply into the ground. His pelt had always blended well into the snow. Perhaps, it did even moreso now - each painted with that dark red.
"Falconfire, stop!" He shouted, using all of his strength to push himself, and the tom that pinned him, back upwards. Perhaps, Falconfire had meant to release him, but the possibility that this final act of strength was enough to save his life sent his heart beating sharply throughout his chest.
His eyes were wild with panic. He only spared Falconfire a glance before turning and racing towards the border. Each step pounded against the ground, deep gashes in the snow left by his paws. He could feel the blood trickling down his coat and flying off of him in the wind.
He only could hope it was not the last thing he would ever feel.
and if i can't be those things let me be stubborn and doubt
Chicorypelt reminded the senior warrior of a pathetic hare, making him feel as if he was actually hunting prey. His pelt was just as white as one in Leaf-bare, and upon recollection, Falconfire was sure the tom was just as weak and useless as well. It was pitiful, watching the sinful creature run for its life, not even bothering to stand up for itself. Pitiful indeed.
The coward didn’t get far. Falconfire shot forward again, paying no mind for the shift in territory. StarClan knew it belonged to LichenClan anyways. Effortlessly, the swift warrior bounded through heaps of snow and closed the distance between predator and prey in a moment. Before Chicorypelt could further infiltrate RedwoodClan territory, his outstretched claws struck out in an arch, ripping through the delicate flesh above the heathen’s hind hocks.
Already, the chase was over, the heathen tumbling and further staining the white floor with his sinful crimson. And his forsaken pleas. Falconfire knew he had to be extremely quick, or he risked the entirety of RedwoodClan rushing in to interrupt what StarClan demanded he do.
Again, Falconfire lunged for his prey in a flash, snow exploding into the air as he forced the heathen into the ground. Yet despite hindering the weakling’s legs, Chicorypelt struggled, throwing his claws around in a desperate attempt to change his fate. And he was successful, but only for a brutally short moment. The heathen struck, just barely missing his eye. Blood jutted from his face blinded him momentarily. Of course the Falconfire had fought with neither of his eyes before, and the pain that scorched across his brow did little in stopping the relentless warrior.
Shoving the heathen down for the last time, Falconfire made sure to target the airways. There was no point in letting the pitiful heathen scream and cry, he was far more partial to a quick and silent escape. So when his merciless fangs finally connected with the flesh directly in the middle of the sinner's throat, there was a gasp, and then there was silence.
Pain erupted through Chicorypelt's hindquarters, and he let out a yelp. Instantly, he was tossed to the ground, momentum skidding him and his attacker across the slick snow. He struggled against the weight of his foe, squirming and rolling, painting himself with his own blood.
The pair collapsed to the ground. "P-please!" He begged, voice cracking with desperation. He kicked desperately, legs flinging out from under him. He felt his hind leg connect with flesh, his claws digging through with surprising ease. It caught him off guard. It had been many moons since he had felt skin part beneath his nails. Only with Sagefrost did he ever draw blood, and often it was only upon her urging that his claws were ever extended.
He managed to catch a glimpse of Falconfire's face in the struggle. Blood streamed down his face, collecting around his eye and dripping from his chin onto the soft white belly furs. He wasn't sure whose body this was - everything was so hectic that, even when time slowed with the rush of adrenaline through his ears, his body felt unreal and not right. His consciousness floated about, unwilling to settle within that fragile corpse.
I'm dying.
He could feel that tight squeeze around his throat, the bite of death. Those limbs thrashed and kicked but found no purchase. Heartbeat after heartbeat passed, his screams hardly choked whimpers with his trachea collapsed between powerful jaws.
His body lay there, unmoving. Chicorypelt could not help but stare at it, blinking in utter shock as though, with each closing of his eyes, the sight before him might change or shift. His limbs might twitch and struggle, his nostrils might flare with breath. Nothing moved, no matter how long he looked.
He heard a voice behind him and turned, seeing a starry figure of creamy swirled pelt and deep lake-hued eyes. The muscular tom blinked before looking past him, observing that still white feline that lay silent and still. "It's time," He repeated, taking a step forward.
Chicorypelt turned and saw, in the distance, a familiar pale yellow pelt. He turned back to the strange starry tom. The resemblance was clear. "Are you here to-"
The tom nodded, looking past Chicorypelt again to find that young queen in the distance with his gaze. The two cats watched her closely, carefully.
"I can't leave. I have to keep her safe. If she comes here and Falconfire-"
"There is nothing we can do here, LichenClanner," the tabby blinked, "From the sky, though, we can watch out for her and protect her." Despite the expression on his face, Chicorypelt could see the smile in his eyes. "We can help guide her pawsteps and the pawsteps of all of our descendants."
Chicorypelt looked at his paws for several moments before nodding solemnly. "Alright... I'm ready." He glanced back, knowing that, no matter how final this moment felt, he would surely be able to see her again one day. For now, as he walked the starry path into the clouds above, he would watch and protect her with all of his heart.
and if i can't be those things, let me be stubborn and doubt
Falconfire stood there, frozen as the adrenaline seeped from his bloodstream. Eyes wide, panting, he stared in disbelief, as if his blood didn't tinge his mouth. As if he hadn't been the one to end the heathen's life. For a moment, Falconfire wondered if he had done right. If he had really committed a great deed for the stars. A raspy voice silenced his thoughts, replacing his worries with a comforting feeling as he recognized the familiar meow.
Up there, the noblest warriors shine bright.
Falconfire looked up, the blue sky staring back at him. There were no stars, but the holy warrior could see it now. When StarClan took him, he would join his comrades in silver pelt. And he would be a bright, luxurious star that drowned out all the darkness around it. Just as he purged the darkness that threatened to taint the earth. Falconfire knew without a doubt, that his star would burn brighter and brighter with each feline sacrificed.
He was a legend.
He was saving LichenClan.
Very few would understand however.
I have to move.
Quickly, the warrior did what he could to hide any evidence that he had been there. Indeed, his claws were guided by StarClan, but he couldn't risk being seen by a fool who hardly understood the stars. Carefully, he pulled tendrils of bloodied gray furs from in-between the corpse's toes, and wondered if there was a way to mask the scent he likely left. But then there was movement.
Falconfire didn't waste time seeing who it was. Hasty paws carried him back to the birches, skidding to an abrupt halt upon realizing the movement had sounded from the LichenClan side of the border.
Valerianbreeze stared into the pines, and the pines stared back. Their shadows spread hollow. There were no blue eyes peeking out at her from the black depths of ThistleClan. Between them the stream swept past, silent but for its gentle plur.
She lowered her shoulders and walked along it. Pine branches reached across the water, as if to touch the bridge of her nose or brush the tips of her tail. She longed to stop and smell them, to take the deepest inhale of their sharp and sweet scent. But the silence kept hold of its steady plateau, urging her to keep moving. Her heart sank with the knowledge that she did not belong there, across the border. The evergreens were not hers to long for.
Soon, tall redwoods faced her. The peaceful quiet lasted - for a bit. Yet a change in the air roused the fur along her nape. The fresh scent of pine gave way to bitterness. Ferns still shook. Drawn from her thoughts, the gurgle of the water grew suddenly louder.
She could, then, barely hear the sound of hissing and growling. She'd know that voice anywhere, if only because Falconfire scared her fiercely. He was a warrior she wished to avoid.
I'd better not let him catch me.
The vibrations of someone else's voice reached her ears, so they fastened.
Her paws remained stone-still. Her entire body stiffened, all of her muscles tensing as if she were about to take off at any moment.
She inched her way toward the sound, hiding beneath and peering through a snowy thicket.
They were amidst an intense argument. Her eyes widened.
It happened in slow motion. Falconfire brought her Clan-mate crashing down to the ground, claws tearing flesh. Chicorypelt struggled beneath the much more powerful warrior.
Blood misted the air before spattering the snow beneath them. It reached Falconfire's paws and her gaze snapped up to his face. Her heart rabbited in her chest. If he sees me, my blood will stain the snow too...
But I'm fast... he won't catch a glimpse.
Trusting herself, Valerianbreeze took off as fast as she could. Her paws slid on the icy snow for the briefest of moments before she was gone. Nothing more than a flash amidst the undergrowth.
Once she thought she was at a safe distance, she let herself breathe. Shallow gasps vaporized the cold air. I'm so sorry, Chicorypelt...
and if i can't be those things let me be sturbborn and doubt
It was faint, but Falconfire didn't need to place the sound to know that he needed to move and follow it. Now.
They aren't running cause they trust me, he hissed to himself. Flying over mounds of snow and barren undergrowth, his heart roared in his chest, threatening to choke him as it increased in pace. With his children in the nursery, Falconfire couldn’t risk his name being tarnished by fools who hardly know about StarClan’s will! Yarrowstar may have been a coward, but it was clear that there was one thing the leader was serious about. “””””Peace””””” He won’t kill me… He can’t kill me, blood stained his mind. But there was no need to further alienate himself or his family from the clan. Nor did he like the idea of rumors spreading. The holy warrior needed to run, and silence this cat, even if his heart did stop.
Falconfire stopped. Ears swiveling back and forth, the tom panted lightly as he thanked StarClan for the season. The forest was dead and void of life. The rustle of undergrowth or the rumble of bushes, he’d hear it all in the dead of Leaf-bare, yet now, there was nothing. Which meant the cat had gotten to camp, or they were hiding somewhere nearby.
Jaws parted, Falconfire resorted to tasting the cold air, for his nose wasn’t at all the best. And the scent that hit his glands was all he needed to know that the culprit wasn’t far.
StarClan guiding his paws, Falconfire didn’t hide the sound of his movements. What would the sinner do? Reveal themselves and become an easy target. So he ambled on, enjoying the crunch of snow beneath his pads until he noticed the wretched feline. Shrouded in barren undergrowth with a face and tail of gray, Falconfire nearly jumped out of his fur, thinking that it was Yarrowstar himself that he saw. But it was a useless she-cat, one in whose name he struggled to recall and whom he certainly couldn’t trust.
The name Valerianbreeze came to his mind too late, the warrior already in the air and but a tail-length away from the heathen she-cat. This time, he wasn’t on RedwoodClan terf, so Falconfire was sure to be precise. Landing before the molly suddenly, Falconfire threw his target from her feet and fought to shove her long muzzle into the snow. While one set of claws forced Valerianbreeze’s mouth closed, he used the other to ensure words didn’t even get to form in the fool's throat. The molly didn’t need to breathe anyways, she just needed to listen.
"What you saw back there, it wasn't for you to understand," Falconfire began, disgust clear in his hiss as his scarred muzzle neared the molly's ear. "What you should understand," and his claws just barely sunk into Valerianbreeze's throat, feeling her thin fur tear beneath his long talons. "The Dark Forest is always moments away." And he kept that pressure, staring down at her with the hopes that he wouldn't have to meow his intentions out loud. If someone found out about Chicorypelt, he would not hesitate to send the she-cat to where she belonged.
