Ok...it felt kind of nice to NOT write 2020 LMAO. Welcome to 2021! To kick off the brand new year, we're introducing a round of updates, including new bio and forbidden romance rules, our Secret Santa reveal, OTM winners and nominations, our monthly patrols, and a fun new infectious disease! So make sure to check out the January Announcements for all of the new content! As we leave 2020 behind us, we hope everyone is able to put themselves first this year and practice self-care! Here's to another one! Let's write some cats!
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.
n theory, Graygaze should despise RedwoodClan. Their pelts were bright and garish, their sanctiomonious attitudes regarding the warrior code was annoying, and they smelled. Smelly though they were, the tom had never felt much hostility towards them. Graygaze suspected this apathy stemmed from either clans' geography. RedwoodClan warriors routinely engaged in vicious battles with LichenClan over caves and rocks that supposedly held religious significance for either party. ThistleClan had a needled forest and tunnels... neither of which particularly attracted intrigue from any of the other Clans. In fact, there wasn't even a point leaving scent markers at the border: an unspecial creek. You were either on the right side or you weren't.
Graygaze stared deeply into the slow-moving waters of the sandy creek. The early morning light shimmered off the waves in a calming orange glow. Birds chirped from the treetops of redwood trees. In the distance, one could hear an owl hooting. Graygaze felt such peace when he came to the border so early in the morning. It gave him space to think. He much preferred this over sticking his head in the ground. He definitively enjoyed this border more than the sandbar path.
Right.
Not even a moon ago had RedwoodClan and ThistleClan finally clashed at the sandbar path. Graygaze couldn't keep up with the reasons why. Thievingstar didn't want herbs delivered to the Tribe or something. It was a brutal battle, but one that ended ultimately with RedwoodClan successfully delivering their supplies. A small patrol with an apprentice and a medicine cat successfully broke through ThistleClan's ranks on their own territory. What an embarassment. It made Graygaze want to rip out his own fur. We suck!
A hint of jasmine crossed the sloth's nose. Graygaze's ear flicked and in the next moment a RedwoodClan warrior sprinted out of a bush on the other side of the creek, strafing to the left towards the waterfall. Graygaze maintained his seated position and wondered if the other cat would slow their pace at all. The indolent grey warrior recognized the running RedwoodClan tom as Tigerpool after catching the scar that ran down the tabby's left flank. He was trained by Gorseheart. Graygaze was fairly certain he would lose a fight with him... but it would be close.
"Hey!" Graygaze called, still seated. "You're interrupting my meditation!" he jested. Both he and Tigerpool were the best of the best. Highly skilled warriors in their own rights, but neither with aspirations for greater positions. It would be interesting trading conversation with the behemoth. Although, most would rather see them trade claws.
The dawn cracked over the skies with its whip-like retaliation, one that bruised the night and left violet hues to commend the earth's free bleed. Tigerpool rose at these times, where the last twinkling of white dusted the swallowing blacks, and surrendered to the coming sun.
He yawned, casting a forlorn glance to the sleeping pelt of Robin-nose. Her delicate inhales brought a wake to his chest. A smile curled from his maw. Tigerpool whispered a goodbye to she who held their label in their paws, it filtered like sands. But, this seize bore insignificant to the tom who relished to play in her waters.
The dew was chilling against his white mits as Tigerpool padded to challenge the horizons. He jogged his habitual route circling their territory in the morning's icy refreshment. Tigerpool relished in these ancient forests, the territory unmistakable and familiar as the stripes that tangoed his own pelt. For over 20 moons, each morning He stretched Through bear-stones and across the cliffs above lichenclan shores. For a moment he would stop on its stooping ledge and look below. the icy-gazed tom could watch distant gulls and swallows. Tigerpool was a man of habit and rarely did the routine falter. Though occasionally, it offered a surprise.
Tigerpool watched the swallow exhale it's green-leaf call and chase the fleeing male in their tango of competition. As per usual, the tabby continued with only brief intervals of rest (blessed to have regained his initial strength since moons beside Orchidshade's hollow).
The mass was a testament to his refined routine. At times, the large warrior would sprint between sections to force the plea of his muscles- to strain them into an anaerobic state. This promised the gain of brawny weight- as Tigerpool was uninterested in the lean ways of an endurance-driven life. Additionally, Tigerpool was careful to focus his cardio in balance with reps and intensity so he could last with many intervals, for long periods of time.
it was Around tigerpool's early warriorhood he refined his fighting style- Always a figure with the promise of brawn, Tigerpool often relied on his strength and muscle over dexterity. typically he dedicated times as a front liner- tank- as this was his area of comfort for both his size and sense of heart. It seemed natural to shield and protect his kin. but with one on one battles he was lacking. This was especially true with the tactful opponent. after a few meaningful loses, Tigerpool continued to work alongside his previous mentor, gorseheart, to perfect the sloppy execution of his micro tactic. No more simply massive meatshield- but with an emphasis of burst.
And this is how the routine was born- a large, disciplined jog with intervals of sprint and cooldown. all a precursor to the push and pull of attack and retreat- for a hard hitting tom who was not always, the quickest on his feet.
The warrior rounded the edges of their Redwood-Lichenclan border before padding towards the waterfall. This was the last landmark of his daily outing. By now, the tom's endorphins had pulsated with rhythmic bouts and he prepared for his final cool down. The tabby approached the cool creek's edge and found radiant bounces of light. The sun had began to consume the former silver-pelt with its hungry rays. The superior sea sighed in its warming glows and now the creek was ablaze. Tigerpool stopped here, as he typically did, and began his morning groom. The beads of sweat still proliferatedfrom his paws. Parallel, heat carried off his pounding ears. "Hey!" a voice interrupted his combings. An unfamiliar voice all the same. Tigerpool lifted his large head to catch the green glance of a stormy-colored pelt. Tigerpool blinked slowly. "You're interrupting my meditation!", the gray warrior continued. The scent of piney forest wafted on the delicate breeze. thistleclan. Tigerpool contemplated for a brief moment, observing the newcomer's standing. He had not crossed the border, and it was Lichenclan that they had officially declared war- though, nonetheless, the tabby warrior remembered the telling of Orchidshade and Mousesong's scarce escape to the tribe. The tom snorted- how ridiculous to waste their time and resources when their own kin was suffering. In such a way, Tigerpool empathized with Thistleclan, whose apprehension towards the tribe stemmed from experience. Experience, as opposed to superstition like the raggedy pelt of Minnowstar and her continuous squawking.
Regardless, this Thistleclan character was abrasive and if anything- interrupting his own meditation. couldn't the small spitfire tom tell that life was tense right now? Tigerpool rose to his paws, hackles fanned, before performing a generously timed stretch. As the last of his toes had uncruled, he padded towards the border. The scent was stale and faint against the creeks water- the visual landmark that divided the two felines.
"Naw, I'm just helping you practice with distractions." Tigerpool quipped with a raise of his eyebrows. "I mean, you can't be that good if me just being here, on my side of the border, is distracting you." he chuckled with a soft-hearted smirk. With a full-grin, the tom turned towards the creek and generously pissed in the waters. "Yup, sounds about right!", he purred with its trickling splashes. "Soothing?"
igerpool had no qualms antagonizing a younger warrior from a bordering clan. Graygaze shook his head as the creek was desecrated with RedwoodClan piss. Wasn't there something in the warrior code that discouraged such an act? There had to be a rule against taking a leak when a warrior from another clan was present. Graygaze thought he might ask his company if they wanted a scar on their other flank to match.
"No, you're being mouse-brained."
The tom got up quickly. His muscles bunched close then powerfully bounded off of the grass. His transition from a resting, relaxed posture to hunting form hinted at the innumerous times he had done so. The shallow, small creek had been crossed in a mere three fox leaps. Graygaze's front paws pushed into the water where Tigerpool had been relieving himself. The large splash enveloped the RedwoodClan tom, drenching him hopefully with a bit of his own urine mixed in. Graygaze hopped back onto a wet stone, hackles raised, his lips curled. He wouldn't be disrespected so brazenly by a RedwoodClan warrior.
"Do that somewhere else."
Graygaze's challenge was direct. It was the only thing those simple fools from the Redwood Forest understood. This is what he got for trying to engage in a conversation with one of them. It didn't matter how much older Tigerpool was. This one needed to learn respect.
Graygaze was ready to react if the lighter of them jumped him. He'd have to counter the opposition in the shallow waves of the creek. Technically he hadn't completely crossed the border. He was still on it. He doubted that his new company would see it that way, though.
"mouse-brains", he scoffed. "doesn't thistle clan mark bor-" but no sooner after the question emerged from his maw, did tigerpool feel the icy spray of water. the saline stung his eyes and elucidated any misconceptions that the tom made had had. No, this was war. tigerpool locked onto graygaze with a phlegmatic expression. His lids dropped in a 1/2 shielded haze and his left jowl curled into a dissatisfied sneer.
"Alright..." he finally grumbled with the quick start of his head. it snapped to touch his shoulder. the tom's pupils constricted to needle-thin slits. Claws unsheathed in a single, fluid exhale.
between their rippling wafts of tension, only the silent trickles of the creek whispered between their pause. a few heartbeats passed.
"so. I was going to let you slink away quietly." the large tabby finally remarked, platitude drizzling from his attenuating tone; His tone which empathized the descending vowel. The Redwood Clan warrior's gaze was entrenched with graygaze. graygaze, whose pelt delineated the echoes of inclement clouds and their sheltered stretch of blue hues. here or there, white markings scattered over his frame. but, tigerpool did not notice these minute details as his pale blue orbs- that pooled in an icy kindling- were only concerned with the peridot leer that seemed to mock him. "fight me." he breathed with a murmuring exhale. with that, the massive tabby kicked up a splash and lunged into their cerulean arena whose boundaries swept with aqueous gurgles.
mpulse roiled in the ThistleClan warrior. Instinct merged with trained reactions, both cats maneuvered in the water in anticipation of the other's next move. Even in these shallow waters, Graygaze's footwork was first-rate. If Tigerpool was unfamiliar with water combat then he'd surely be at a disadvantage. The strategist thought through the fight. An underwater leg sweep would put the titan of a feline into a defensive position, but if Tigerpool managed to clinch Graygaze he could easily hold his head underwater until he surrendered. There was no sure path. Graygaze sighed.
What was the point? If they scrapped here, no territory would be lost. No new information would be gathered. Neither cat would prove anything. He knew this, and still he had his hackles raised. Still, he hissed at his opponent with menace. It was like Graygaze wasn't in control of his own body anymore. Something primal had overtaken his senses. The tom forced his fur to lie still, breathed deeply, and blinked.
"Whatever," he mewed dismissively towards the legendary RedwoodClan warrior. "This is stupid. Ratwhisker's gonna kill me if I return with an injury I didn't have to get." Graygaze was aware that putting his guard down like this in front of Tigerpool could be a devastating mistake. Still, he wasn't interested in pursuing a fight anymore than he already had. He wouldn't apologize for splashing his new company, but he did privately acknowledge his own lack of control over the provocative reaction. There was too much to do back home. Fight or flight could wait.
"What are you even doing here? Last I checked, your clan lost the Mooncave. You'd be better off fighting those star-obsessed furballs than wasting your time with me." Graygaze knew he wasn't much better, meditating and looking inward instead of facing the reality of the rogue attack back home, but Tigerpool was unaware of that. "I'm surprised you even have an attitude after failing your Clanmates like that. A warrior as big as you should be able to handle five flea-ridden LichenClan cats... what are you doing?" he repeated.
The water felt crisp against the perspiring wedges of the warrior's pads. Tigerpool opened his jowls to withdraw the senses that lingered amid the palette-cleansing tides of rain-bred waters. Despite the channels that threatened the balance of a rickety foe, Tigerpool's weight was leveled onto the smooth edges of creek turned rocks that toyed between the sands. Their surfaces were slippery with the laps of algae but sparse. And, even if the tom came crashing down, his weight would fight against the feeble green-leaf currents. New-leaf had waxed and waned and with it, the winter's run-off had attenuated from roaring crashes to the soothing tickles of a wayward sway. They would be traveling soon to feed the lake after the cloud's generous labor.
Tigerpool watched with plastered skepticism as the grey tom's hackles fanned. Shadows toyed in the layered sheets of fur, casting stark layers of shadow with the sun's beaming light. This light, that filtered that shouted through the trees, cried its morning rise. At this moment, perhaps it was from boredom or maybe frustration, but Tigerpool was not untouched by Graygaze's prevaricating clamors. A snarl flipped up his jowl as a censured look threaded the tom's brow. His mind was squeezing to parochial filters of red.
"That's unfortunate." Tigerpool mewed, dripping with a platitude. He didn't owe this sharp-tongued punk any explanation to his clan's shortcomings (though he knew... that they had many). Immediately, Tigerpool's distaste flashed to the feeble frame of Finchstar. This was Redwood clan's leader, who proved time and time again his inability to stand for anything...even himself. Now they were haunted by The many voices whose soils left to wander as abiding ghosts.
Others had done their part. Tigerpool had done his part. This foolhardy was left to Finchstar's inexperience, naivety, and most of all, weakness. Any individual could donate a single striking gander at Thievingstar and Minnowstar to deduce that they had gleaned their fair share of battles in their glory- or even now. This was the unfortunate reality of the other two clans, where Redwoodclan's open-hearted nature was anchored by the weakling who couldn't uphold this lawful values against the brutes.
Tigerpool inhaled so that the splashes of icy solace taunted his gums. He was not like them, he found it a duty to polish himself like the stones that bestrewed the creeks infinite sands. He found it a duty to polish Redwoodclan's pride.
Without a second thought, the tom barreled into the stouter form of graygaze. With only a half-minded sense of courtesy, his claws emerged to only peer over the edges. There was a generous smack as the tabby's body slammed into the waters. Even in its shallow depths, one could hear the forceful smack of weight against creek cloaked sands.
igerpool's advantage could not be understated. He was built like a tree trunk, had twice the experience of Graygaze as a warrior, and was fighting in the open one-on-one. But it's not impossible. He may be big, but can he really match the speed of a ThistleClan warrior? He thought to strafe around to the tabby's side. If he could box his ears, frustrate him, get him off balance, then he'd have him.
Wait! Fox dung! He's faster than me!
It was like his plans had been trampled by a horse. The RedwoodClan tom charged straight at him with no regard for any kind of defense. Graygaze grit his teeth as his side was slammed into with the full force of his opponent's shoulder. The slate-colored tom didn't even get a chance to counter. Wind blew past his hind legs, and Graygaze realized he was in mid-air. His pads touched the water and then balanced on the stones below. If it had been solid ground, Graygaze might have sprained one of his legs on the landing. StarClan what do I do!? He's faster and stronger than I am! this is such a pain... His eyes darted around for something he could use. A gap in the rocks where he could get Tigerpool's leg stuck? By the time he thought of something he was already under attack. Graygaze had to return the shot, somehow.
Fine, you want to brawl that badly? You're going to eat seconds.
When Tigerpool charged in the next time, Graygaze used his tail to slap a shower of water into Tigerpool's eyes. It wasn't a very honorable tactic, but Graygaze was trying to win. After temporarily blinding the giant, Graygaze smashed his paw into the RedwoodClan warrior's ear. It was a small hit, but he laid on the pressure. He moved his tail to make it look like he'd splash Tigerpool again - but once Tigerpool flinched he'd get hit with another blow to the side of his head. I'm going to splash him one more time. When he flinches, I'll bite into his neck and force him to surrender.
Graygaze pushed his front paws into the water, expecting to stun Tigerpool one more time...
Much to Tigerpool’s startle, his opponents brawl felt reflective of his apprentice days. It didn’t take much for the stone-furred tom to be thrusted into the air. Is he even trying?, Tigerpool questioned, his brow threaded and maw dipped into a stupefied awe. Graygaze’s body was thrown into the air with whooshing ease and Tigerpool felt an awkward satisfaction, watching his strength transmute from contact, to momentum. A splash echoed when the Thistleclan warrior's body hit the surface, and cool waters mollified Tigerpool's steaming form.
But as Tigerpool went to charge through the currents, no sooner did the gray one’s tail smack the surface and deliver a stream of beading bullets.
“What? Seriously?…, c’mon!” Tigerpool growled. He was blinded. And unlike the soothing nature associated with the earth’s liquid blessing, water was a mild irritant to the eye’s saline homeostasis. The tabby halted and lowered his breathing to a steady rate. The only sounds he collected were the arduous thumping of his adrenaline profusion and the infinite stream of drizzling waters. Where is he? Then Tigerpool’s ear grew hot. Claws raked its flesh with an aggressive and rapid bat, thin and sensitive. The warrior’s maw flipped into a snarl. Even a flies dull buzzing was nonetheless obnoxious.
Tigerpool shook the beads from his eyes and waited for his vision to return to its once glassy state. Had the fellow warrior been preparing for a second assault, the large Tommy was completely oblivious as he waited. Even the subtle flinch of Graygaze was not enough to engage his muscle memory. The tom, was too dense to assume. By the moment his visions cleared and bearings collected, Tigerpool could only see that posted form of Graygaze beneath him, his fur pressed against his flesh with its sopping madness.
“Wanna go for a swim?”, he mewed. Tigerpool felt pretty cool after successfully delivering a one-liner. Without hesitation, while simultaneously brewing in his cockiness, the tabby dropped his shoulder, down, onto the opponent- whose back collapsed beneath the weight. Bubbles hungrily exhaled to the waters surface as together, they momentarily sunk beneath the creeks deeper patches. As Tigerpool heard the smaller tom’s body dismantle stones, their clanking carried through the rippling waters with ease, he lifted himself. The redwood clan warrior stopped. he looked at graygaze. what the hell am I doing, he thought to himself awkwardly. Tigerpool walked out of the waters, and shook his pelt. His fur was now fluffed and un-groomed, providing him with a larger, but softer appearance than before. Before, where his muscles were easily lost without the giving contours of his form. Still breathing with generous gasps, he turned to collect the state of his antagonist. Tigerpool pivoted back towards the scene, but was cautious of his border.
“I’m sorry if I went too far.” He mewed half-heartedly, still processing the moments that had raced by. “I…don’t think you wanted a fight. But I uh...couldn't tell.” He finished a bit more earnestly, his jowls pursed to reveal his blip of humiliation. his pooling eye contact was awkwardly wavering with ears faintly teetering between strait and flattened.
the critical moment, Tigerpool didn't flinch. He instead barrelled into his opponent despite being blinded. Graygaze was too late on the follow-up. The larger tom easily pushed him under. He dragged the smaller warrior into deeper waters, drowning him, beating him. It was hard to think strategically when your lungs lacked air and your back was being crushed into stones. Graygaze writhed and struggled to get away, but Tigerpool had him thoroughly beat.
A glimmer of sunlight danced over the waves and for a passing second all was still. Graygaze's thoughts subsided as his body floated in a deep blue space. Light flickered over his face, a gentle morning glow. Graygaze wasn't bothered with an apprentice, or a patrol, or feeding anybody, he was just simply there. Near death, he felt more present than he ever had. Then it was over. Graygaze gasped for air and became enveloped in a coughing fit. The haggard ThistleClan tom's fur stuck to his lithe body and he shook as if hit with a Leaf-bare wind. Tigerpool mewed, but whatever he was trying to communicate wasn't getting through. Graygaze stared down blankly at the creek below.
"Why would you do that?" Graygaze could barely even process his thoughts. He looked lost. "Why would you want to fight? No territory's at stake, your life's not in danger..." Graygaze was mostly addressing himself. "Why does it have to be this way?" The korat shambled towards his side of the border. "No sense."
Graygaze flopped on his side. He saw the bugs crawl over blades of grass, heard the hoot of a morning owl. This was a good place to sleep. As good as any other spot, at least. When he slept he didn't have to worry about his own instincts, his false judgment. He could just rest. Wasn't that what every cat wanted? See no evil, speak no evil, do no evil, hear no evil. But he couldn't. Not when there was still a seperate entity there that would prevent his slumber. Graygaze's eye fell upon Tigerpool, and he sighed.
"You won. Now go home. Tell all your clanmates about it. It doesn't matter." The tom blinked slowly. "None of this matters."
For the myriad of moments that the Korat tom lay suspended in the waters, Tigerpool did not notice much. And, as his sobbing figure breached the surface, to slink onto his borders shore, Tigerpool's calls ran across the rippling creek and dissipated into the distance; there was no active ear, his listener was vacant and just as soon, so was his words.
Yet, there Graygaze sat in a stony pause. geeze, what's with this guy, Tigerpool snorted. The gray one's gaze plastered like a blank veil against the creek, which had returned to its slate-like surface other than the rippling streams. Across its surface, the tension parted to bare claws that scratched its serpent-like back. It's back which teetered on brilliant curves that bore through the forest and created their border's divide.
uh.... who is he talking to. Tigerpool pouted with a phlegmatic stare. The Thistleclan warrior yelled into the waters. And then, his actions that transpired, shocked the massive tabby most. The gray one's feet gave way as he voluntarily stretched his pelt beneath the sun. His gray nose seemed to tickle the grasses and Tigerpool couldn't help, but cock his head, brows raised, in a state of confusion.
He finally caught the peer of his former opponent's green cast. His eyes were lidded with a defeated sigh that spoke nothing of the combat that they had just exchanged. "You won. Now go home. Tell all your clanmates about it. It doesn't matter." The tom blinked slowly. "None of this matters."
Tigerpool's frown stretched further. He opened his mouth momentarily, but no words arose. is this guy serious...? He's so...uninterested but also...dramatic. the tom mused to himself in tune with the gray's cat's blink. "uhm...." Tigerpool bit his lip, his eyes wide, awkwardly. Despite the borders that were drawn in both the code and through their regiminal markings, Tigerpool felt a sense of...sadness for the tom? No, it wasn't quite sadness, but the gray one's obvious lack of passion pained him. Was this what it was to experience...cringe?
"You're kind of...unlike most thistleclanners I know. I mean. You were at first but not now. now..uh. what the hell are you doing?" Tigerpool asked, equal parts quizzical and flabbergasted. "What is your name? I haven't seen you before." He continued, brow thread to cast a shadow over his pooling stare.
raygaze thought it was too much trouble to explain to the big idiot his own disposition. Was this the honor and pride they all fought for? It hardly seemed worth the effort. Maybe Tigerpool would just cut Graygaze open and let him bleed out into the river, then at least there would be a tangible result of their conflict. The despondent daydreamer rolled back onto his paws and stood with a grunt. The ThistleClan warrior's nose twitched. He breathed a sigh of relief. Their splashing hadn't attracted any unwanted attention at least. The river had washed all the mud and sand off of his pelt, at least. He felt clean.
Graygaze curled his lip. "Now you want to have a conversation, huh?" The brute could have been nicer before he started pissing in front of him, but apparently he had to earn his respect first. Mouse-brain. "I stick to the shadows. Out of sight, out of mind. The less cats that know me the better." Graygaze shook out his limbs, which still ached like they were being pressed on with stones. He had already wasted enough time. Even if he did reveal his name to Tigerpool, there was no real advantage in doing so. They weren't friends.
"I'm sure you'll hear it at a gathering or something, anyway. Not that it matters. Our leaders just point us at things and we attack. That's the way it's always been. That's how it always will be."
Tigerpool was strong, but he didn't have the nerve for treachery. He didn't have the gumption to depose his own leader. RedwoodClan cats were loyal to the end, for better and for worse. Not that Graygaze was any better. He acknowledged the faults in his own clan but didn't care enough to correct them. Perhaps that's why he felt so clean. Refreshed. For once he had a fight that wasn't ordered by a superior. A break in the routine. It was their fight, and nobody else's.
"That was pointless and stupid. And yet..." Graygaze winced again as he moved his leg. He didn't care much when he was just going through the motions every moon, but now he had something to look forward to. Next time, when there was really something on the line, their battle will end with one of them on top and the other dead. A game for keeps. Nothing could be more entertaining than that. War was a task given to him by the authority in his clan - something not worth his time. This was personal. Graygaze put his weight back on the leg to embrace the pain as he walked away. He liked this new feeling.
"So long, Tigerpool. Don't die until we meet again or I'll be disappointed... ouch, ow, ouch..."
"huh..." Was what Tigerpool mustered as a reply, curt and untelling.if you were in the shadows, why'd you even confront me. Trying to rationalize this korat's motive was a headache, and Tigerpool found it more efficient to quickly dismiss the antics. Perhaps there were...better stones left un-turned. His gaze dropped back into the creek, piles of smooth rocks scattered in the shallows. Their fashionable mattes danced in an array of earthy hues. He found this a pleasant place to zone.
But, the gray one continued. Tigerpool watched him with temples stretched. maybe his leader points and attacks but..., the tabby warrior tried to imagine Finchstar delivering a battle call, the last ripples of passion quickly wrung from his face. Nope. Not like that would happen. Redwood clan fought for the code, not their gangling leader who couldn't keep an eye in his socket.
With that said, he'd never betray Redwood clan- joined like the ancient tree roots, as a network their blood coalesced into a greater cause which nurtured their metaphysical forest. Their very trunks, sturdier by the foundation, grew to challenge the skies. It was a collaboration of hierarchy, generations of familial love, and most of all, rules. The later, seemed to be un-skimmed by the likes of the other clans. Especially, this Thistle clanner whose sense of clan-ism bordered on a rogue. Or perhaps, that's just what was Thistleclans deal. Maybe all the rogues were just their own cats. Tigerpool danced around this theory momentarily, then hit a wall of brambles. The tom snorted, his brain having been already blistered like today's green-leaf sun high. Quickly, Tigerpool noticed that his pelt felt hot as the solar orb climbed towards it mid-day apex.
his company continued to chat. Tigerpool's interest was redirected onto a nearby fish that flickered through the streams, its home now serene from the gnashing of teeth and claws. but, for a moment, the gray cat's words infiltrated his thoughts. Was that really what this was? war? for the sake of another leader's motive and bidding? Tigerpool's palette was bitter-ed.
that...was what this was.
this, as in, their very warrior existence Tigerpool did not want to save the tribe. And, had they not gone to the tribe, they surely wouldn't have lost and inflated lichen clan's ego. Lichen clan, whom with one valiant sweep came to consume the moon pool for their hungry belly. a saltiness coated the large tom's stomach, his face rippled into an obvious sour.
there was nothing he could have done then or now, just serve as the front lines to their stupid directions. it...was finchstar's bidding. Finchstar, did, call them to battle. As measly and snake-like as it may have seemed. but...if not finchstar, then who? it wasn't like tigerpool himself would give anything to be in that position, barking orders from the high rock like one alone had to power to understand the world's uncurling. in fact, he would sacrifice himself not to be- in that position. Tigerpool would give anything for...if it wasn't power then what? family, love, and...........fighting? what's wrong with that he determined with the flexing unsheathe of his claws.
"oh...?" Tigerpool called back, watching the Thistleclanner slink back beneath the pines. a moment's pause and the weight of the korat's words grew heavy upon his pelt. "What the hell is that supposed to mean!?" Tigerpool barked, revealing a pair of lengthy ivories to an audience of none. The tom snorted with a heft pivot on his paws, tail draping across the earth. The tabby warrior trotted home with subconsciously stomping strides. his head was heavier with a migraines radiating company.
