Dreaming Out LOUD ;; Bedwyr

[`s y nt h et i c !?]

The she-cat sighed as she left the chlosterphobic walls of the warriors' den. Crags in the faces of boulders were not appropriate homes for warriors. Runningwind pondered what it was like to live in the larger forest back in their original home. She had heard many stories about it during her kit life; she relished the thought of sleeping in a cozy den. As her tail emerged last from the crag, Runningwind gave a brisk look around. As usual, the spiny boulders surrounding their camp seemed dangerous and uninviting. She partially couldn’t believe that she had to live here for the remainder of her life. Well, her warrior life that is; Runningwind shuddered. She did not want to think of what lay ahead of her once she became an exiled elder. The she-cat shook her head to dislodge this track of thought, and habitually leaned forward to stretch her hind legs, her mouth pulling into a wide grimace. It’s so cramped in that warriors’ den!

Why do I complain? It’s not as if anything is going to change. The size of the crag in the boulder is beyond Smoulderstar’s abilities.

At the mention of her leader’s name, Runningwind couldn’t help but purr with pleasure. The sting of not being named deputy after Smoulderstar became leader was still present, but was now a dull blur. The tom was too good of a cat to stay mad at. The way he ruled this clan may seem weak to other cats, but this she-cat thought that Smoulderstar’s train of thought was right on the mark. The clan cats are what make up the clan, right? So shouldn’t their desires and opinions be vocalized? Maybe it was because Runningwind was a bit of an out speaker herself, but all in all, it was a clever tactic. Without realizing it, Runningwind was still standing before the den entrance, blocking it with her girth. Embarrassment flushed her as she came to conscience of her zoning out. Attempting to appear nonchalant, the she-cat sauntered over to the fresh-kill pile.

As she neared it, a disappointed look crawled upon her features. Of course, it was barely full, but she was grateful that it was finally full. Leafbare was a harsh one, as usual, so the she-cat was welcoming the small jolt in food, as minute as it was, with open arms. Newleaf promised flourishing prey, and Runningwind never ignored the signs of StarClan. Daintly, she dipped her head into the pile to nab a scrawny mouse. It wasn’t much, but it would keep her going until her next meal. Resting onto her haunches, her paws stuffed beneath her chest, Runningwind dug into the small morsel, surprised at how ravenous she was. For some reason, she could not remember when her last meal was. It may as well have been moons ago! Although a sinking feeling remained present within her stomach like a heavy stone.

I’m going to have to replenish the fresh-kill by hunting a good deal today.

[/font]

[wyr.]

♠ The time of flowers had graced the land with a spectacular, gleaming smile, curtsying her greeting to every creature, big or small, while warming their hearts with the coming heat. She touched each mind, each soul, each body with a fever that flowed through their blood stream, making their bones vibrate with intensity. The illness of sorts that she cast upon each beast spread and spread throughout the forest, the swamp, and the moorland, holding them tight within the fever's grasp. It was an epidemic of mass proportions, taking on the creatures and devouring them into bliss. A bliss that made them want to do something, other than lying around uselessly. It made them want to run through the open, stretching their limbs and breathing in the fresh, fresh air. It made them want to do something exhilerating. Something they'd never do in many, many years. In a way it made them want to risk their necks on something stupid. Something consumed in idiocy. Just to feel like a dare devil, something special and worth the time to look upon. That's just what she wanted you to do. It's what her purpose was to make you do. And she came every year, ready to cast her sickness upon you in an instant. Newleaf and her horrible, horrible fever.

♠ Puffy white clouds drifted through the sky, poltergeists of fluffy water vapor it seemed. They danced to a song all their own, twisting within themselves, tinged pink and light blue. Pale pigments churned in the sky above, making deep oranges and fussias. The sky was far from clear this morning. Though the clouds, phantoms waltzing with delight, seemed light and void of fluid, they held a grey hint to their pudgy forms, promising coming rain to nourish the vegetation in the forest, therefore feeding the prey, and therefore helping the predators. Dim sunlight touched the ground, folding around the canopy of leaves and branches to touch the tall grass of the woodland. There was a quiet whisper in the air, almost as if you could hear the plant's feeding on the energy, growing slowly but surely before the eyes of any creature. The sphere of fire that was the sun gleamed down on the unmoving life from above the land of mortals, casting out rays of food for all of its children. It was dawn, a time when creatures were just waking up, exposing sleep-ridden eyes to the world around them with weariness. A point when everything just seemed new. After the obscurity of sleep, the world just seemed so fresh and... real.

♠ A mouse was one of the creatures whom had woken up today. A diminutive male rodent with brown fur and big, black eyes. He crawled out of his nest of twigs and leaves in a small shrub to poke his nose into the sunlight. It felt fairly good on the pink skin of his nostrils, and he was lured out by the promising heat. Tail swishing behind, he stepped completely out into the sunlight, his ears up and alert, his body pressed to the ground to feel any tremors as a warning of approaching predators. Sensing nothing, he scurried forth, leaping into shadows anytime he could, his nose twitching nervously. His heart started beating faster when he scented the strong aroma of cat. He was nearing the place where the felines grouped together, throwing his bretheren's carcasses into a messy pile before devouring them ravenously, crunching their bones like twigs. The tiny creature gulped and scurried twice as fast. When he reached a small clearing, beach nuts littering the ground, he sighed. It was the same thing. This clearing was where he always got his food. The bland things. And he knew that at the camp where the cats lived they had better things to consume. He, for one, knew that they had some poppy seeds growing nearby. If only he could get one... A sort of courageous feeling swelled up inside his little chest. He would get one today. He knew he would.

♠ Succumbing to a feeling he didn't entirely understand, the mouse hurtled, or attempted to hurtle as much as a mouse could, through the undergrowth, already knowing the carnivores were not nearby now. He saw the rocks protruding from the ground that signaled the beginnings of the camp of the felines, and his heart skipped a beat. He ignored it, still feeling a sensation in his chest, something almost like power. He'd never had power before. He didn't know anyone who had ever had power. He didn't know anyone who had lived as long as he... So, basically now he didn't know anyone. Blinking the fear away, the plump mouse halted, right outside the camp. He had never brushed this close with danger, and he had nearly been killed four times in his short life. But, that feeling... It was so strong, making him just want to do something. Letting him no that nothing could ever happen to him while he got his poppy seeds. It just wasn't possible. Feeling confident, he let out a squeak before exploding into the camp, knowing he'd make it faster to the poppy seeds if he stole right through the camp. There was a sound. A sharp pain. Red filled his vision. Everything went black. The mouse had died due to newleaf fever.

♠ There hadn't been much sleep that night. Just dreamless drifting in and out of consciousness. No real progress had been made in the dream world, nor had there been much in the recharging his energy world. He simply hadn't gotten enough sleep to function properly. Of course, warriors were stubborn, though. They acted first and thought about it later. Having had been a warrior for twenty-six moons, he had brought up this aspect to his personality as well. Not thinking about how weary he was, the tom had woken up, stumbling onto his paws, his eyes drooping with the need for sleep. His body worked normally, but his muscles and mind screamed for him to lay back down and slip into a quiet slumber. At least, for a couple of moments. For a moment, he almost surrendered, but slowly he built up the energy to move. Clumsily, he moved out of his den. As the sunlight touched his fur, he stood taller, puffing his chest out, trying desperately to look like a leader. He walked down the rocks toward the Clan entrance. While walking, he raised his ears at the sound of a loud squeak. Before he could inquire to himself what the noise was, a mouse speeded through the camp entrance right toward him. Blinking in shock, he swiped out at the creature easily slicing into his neck. The mouse fell on its side and just... died.

♠ Well, that was... weird... What mouse just runs right into your paws? Either way, Smoulderstar wasn't going to let the plump mouse go to waste. Still slightly surprised, he picked it up, now completely awake. Grasping it gently in his jaws in a way that would not harm the corpse, he turned on his paws and headed toward the fresh-kill pile. Half-way there, he saw the form of a she-cat, clearly an early riser. He blinked his vision clear to see not just a she-cat, but a pretty one. A tortoiseshell with a nice curved body. He quickly recognized her as his fellow warrior, Runningwind... Or, just a warrior, he supposed, unused to the idea. Nodding to himself, he padded up to the fresh-kill pile and dropped his mouse right on top. He peered over it to see her scrawny choice. At least she believes that the Clan should eat better before her. Figuring he should eat, he pulled a tiny blackbird from the bottom, made up of mostly bone and no flesh. It was sopping wet from the dew on the ground, making it soggy and considered a bad choice when you were looking for taste. He'd leave the nice dry pieces for the warriors who deserved them. Crouching down from the other side of the pile, he began to eat. Something occurred to him. He was being rude. Well, he didn't really want to talk. He wasn't much of a speaker, but it would be impolite to just pretend the she-cat wasn't there. Straightening up, he attempted a smile. "Hello, Runningwind." he managed to mew. "How are you this morning? Have any thoughts to share?" It was just a sign of the democracy he was trying to settle upon his Clan like a soft blanket.

OOC :
how long was the thought? 1423 words
and who was the puppet? smoulderstar
the audience? runningwind
any requests? nope
your level of excitement? pretty high
any ideas? nope

[`s y nt h et i c !?]

As starved as the she-cat was feeling, she did not tear into her prey with the ferocity of a mutt. She kept in mind her manners, and daintily dipped her head to take small bites of her meal. The morsel tasted delicious as it grazed her tongue. The overwhelming scent was hard to render useless as it slid down her throat, but she continued her soft cycle. Dip, bite, and swallow. Dip, bite, and swallow. Slowly, she felt the kink in her neck fade away. She had acquired this kink from keeping her head ducked while in the warriors’ den. This gentle movement slowly worked the muscle, at first making her flinch, then graduating into a small jolt. She was seriously considering having Smoulderstar have a paw-full of warriors scrape at the crevice in order to widen it. She shuddered at how awful the sound would be; sharp claws tearing at impregnable stone all day long. To Runningwind’s surprise, she had paused in mid bite, and had a gruesome grimace upon her face. Quickly righting herself, Runningwind resumed her monotonous cycle, though she couldn’t help but have her mind wander.

When I say wonder, it actually did. Once it started, there was no way Runningwind could keep it from thinking of something. Surprisingly, she found herself just pondering how her hunt would go today. She’d have to live up to her reputation and bring back as much prey as she could manage. Her amberish-green eyes sparked at the new goal. Her determination renewed, Runningwind began to contemplate how she would go about tracking her prey this time around. The grass was no longer littered with crisp and dried leaves, so she wouldn’t be able to find any mice very easily on this occasion. The trees are bare, so she would have to be ready for squirrels that could no longer fight there hunger and were scouring the land for a nut. Oh yeah, the ravine will be a bit flooded due to the melted snow, so voles – especially water voles – would be prowling the rocks. Runningwind lashed her tail pleasurably; today was going to be a great hunt.

If everything goes as planned, then I should be able to catch at least six pieces of prey.

A plume of familiar fur caused Runningwind to pause in her bites and quickly glance to the movement. This was an inconspicuous movement – well, at least it was supposed to be – she only wanted to know what he was doing. The ‘he’ was in fact Smoulderstar, the tom that was previously occupying the she-cat’s mind. His fluffy, multi-colored fur rustled as he calmly pitched a mouse he had just caught onto the pile. One less piece of fresh-kill Runningwind had to worry about chasing after. Then something fell upon her. Not physically, but it may have well been a boulder for how heavy it hit her! As much as it frightened Runningwind for her to realize, she did not want the tom to pad off again. Internally, she could feel claws reaching out toward Smoulderstar, desperate for some sort of interaction. She felt a surge of pleasure and relief run through her body as Smoulderstar grabbed a sodden blackbird and nestled himself on the other side of the pile.

Okay then…

She distastefully poked into her mouse once more, a look of disappointment dominating all other expressions. She attempted to hide this, but it was difficult to mask her emotions on the inside, it always has been. Just as Runningwind began wonder whether she should ditch the half-eaten mouse and start her hunt early, Smoulderstar spoke up. Her leader’s mew was warm yet apprehensive, almost as if it were difficult for him to manage. Though the she-cat took this as an invitation to a conversation and quickly glanced up, casting a gaze toward Smoulderstar. Comfort began to envelope Runningwind as she realized that the handsome leader was flashing a smile. Without hesitation, the she-cat returned this kind gesture with a brilliant smile of her own. Lost in the comforting sensation, she quickly gathered herself and conjured up a report for Smolderstar.

"Good morning, Smoulderstar," replied Runningwind, her words sincere, "a pleasant one at that. Mine is at a slow start, but the wonderful weather is promising a great day. I was just thinking about my hunt today." Runningwind allowed these words to be leading, but she did not plan on dwelling upon this, it was up to Smoulderstar, anyway. "How about you? You appear more energized today. The hype of newleaf finally getting to you?" mused Runningwind, a hint of amusement seeping into her words. The she-cat blinked kindly to the tom, honestly wondering how his morning was faring so far.

[wyr.]

♠ Death is a fearsome thing. A dark warrior, barely visible in the vivid images of life. Some creatures don't even think of death until it has happened to them. Others think of it their whole life. Death is a fog of depression, looming over anyone it can feed off. Anyone it can scare away from life. Why think of death that way, though? It's a natural balance, yes. But, it is going to happen anyway. Why dwell on thoughts of death when you still have the rest of your life before you? Many creatures let their lives wither away because of death, unwilling to live life because death scares them. The Clans never worried about death. They knew when they died they'd join there ancestors. Even if they were in Corrupt, at least they'd have their friends. No worries in the afterlife. They just watched and helped the generations to come if they could. But, the Clans weren't the only creatures in the forest. What happened to the others? Obviously, they couldn't go to Corrupt. They weren't Clan cats and did not share the belief. Do they have a religion of their own? A place to be with their relatives? A land where they could live in peace for the rest of eternity? Where did they go?

♠ He saw blackness. The hard truth was about to be revealed. He had never done this before. No living creature had. He was about to go on the greatest adventure of his life. Or... his death. The thoughts left his head. There were no thoughts. Blackness consumed him, eating away at first his fur, taking each hair and pulling it by the root away from his skin. And then it took his flesh, tearing it apart into bloody ribbons, or so it felt. With his skin gone, there was nothing there to prevent it from taking his liver, his organs and pulling them apart into nothingness. He wouldn't need them anymore. They were gone, the things that had kept him alive for so, so long had vanished into nothing. He had vanished into nothing... There were only his bones. Slowly they were crunched apart into unrecognizable dust. And he was gone. His body, his heart. But, not his soul. At least, not yet... What, oh what... would happen to his soul, his life source, the thing that made him more than just a bag of jelly? Who knew? That was for the dead to know. And the dead were... dead. So, naturally you couldn't ask them. So when the mouse faded into the void with his soul intact, he had no idea what awaited him.

♠ It was fair weather, it seemed. The sun was steadily rising higher, a sure part of any cat's day. The sphere, a magnitude of heat, glowed brilliantly, letting spiraling rays of sunlight touch the ground, heating the sod where snow had been. As the dawn began to turn into morning, as it quickly does each day, the pale pink and orange lights that had been churning in and out of each other, creating new pigments and visible patterns, became darker, turning into the light blue that would be the sky in the coming hour or so. The wind was a quiet hiss in the air, like a serpent, waving its broad head back and forth, its large eyes fixed upon its prey. The breeze caused the grass to sway, rustling and knocking leaves free from their spots, sending them flying into the air. The air was humid, another sign of a slight drizzle to come, besides the grey-tinged clouds, floating monotonously overhead, almost hinting the sky grey behind them with their fingers of vapor. The smell of insects and dew-wet plants filled the air, pushing their way into the nostrils of any passing creatures, especially the cats, whose noses were strong and whose homes were located in the forest of lush, verdant greenery.

♠ Smoulderstar's thoughts were elsewhere. With each breath came a thought, crowding his mind and giving him a painful headache. What was he thinking about? The first was his restless nights. Every night this past moon he'd barely gotten any sleep at all. Most were dreamless, but some weren't. He'd suffered one dream where he was actually eaten alive by blackness. Try as hard as he could, he couldn't escape the icy touch of the obscurity, swallowing him whole, obliterating him. He knew his dreams meant nothing at all. He hadn't had any dreams that had meant anything since he became leader only a few moons ago. He didn't think he was even worthy to get a dream from Corrupt or StarClan. He was just Smoulderash. Not Smoulderstar. So, the dreams that kept him awake were probably the end product of too much stress, which led to the other thing he was thinking about. His unsureness about being leader. Surely the calculating Thunderclaw would have been a better choice for leader. Why him? Why would the dead leader who had picked him to be deputy choose the multi-colored tom? Why Smoulderash? The young cat with a mother whom he had killed by being born and a father who had abandoned him for another she-cat and her dead kits. He showed no promise. He was inexperienced, and he was changing the Clan, whether he knew it or not. Hopefully for the best.

♠ His thoughts came to a crashing halt as a voice entered his mind, bringing him back to the present and ThunderClan. "Good morning, Smoulderstar," A smile suddenly graced the tom's maw, his grin radiant and warm at the sincereness in his fellow Clanmate's voice. Runningwind had been made a warrior a moon after he had, he remembered. Maybe she should have been made leader. After all, he remembered the way she acted, and it was clear to him that she had the ambition for it. If only his leader had seen that... And, he knew Runningwind was a very good hunter. He recalled her picking up the slack for the rest of the warriors. She seemed like the kind of person who would charge in with a mouthful of fresh-kill like her life depended on it. And in some ways, it did. "a pleasant one at that. Mine is at a slow start, but the wonderful weather is promising a great day. I was just thinking about my hunt today." He eyed the clouds. She was right. Hunting today would be good. The clouds were only just full of water. If there was a slight drizzle it would put the prey off, thinking the felines wouldn't be hunting as much in the rain. When they crawled out from their hidey holes, they'd be right there for the grabbing.

♠ Smoulderstar sensed something in her voice. But, he wasn't the type to know how to decypher it. He simply shrugged it off, watching through bright blue eyes. He hadn't really realized until now how pretty the she-cat was. He hadn't really noticed anything in the days that he had been leader. Mostly, he had just been freaking out, unsure of anything, hoping for something solid to cling to. She seemed pretty solid... He blinked, snapping out of his thoughtful state. "How about you? You appear more energized today. The hype of newleaf finally getting to you?" He let out a quiet chuckle, thinking the slightly stunned look on his face was why she deemed him energized. When he was done with his chortle, he mewed, "You won't believe this, but... a mouse just ran right into my paws. I feel sorry for the poor beast, probably a horribly confused thing. It didn't seem like fair game for him to just step into my outstretched claws." He shook his head, actually feeling pretty bad. But as soon as the thoughts of guilt came, they left to be replaced by a new yearning to earn his prey the hard way. He stretched out his legs and let out a powerful yawn. "Do you... Do you want to go hunting with me? I haven't been out in forever. Thunderclaw's been looming over me like my own shadow. Just go out and come back before he notices." Smoulderstar quietly laughed.

OOC :
how long was the thought? 1365 words
and who was the puppet? smoulderstar
the audience? runningwind
any requests? nope
your level of excitement? looooooooooow.
any ideas? nope

[`s y nt h et i c !?]

Her leader’s sudden interest caused Runningwind to feel…well…rather warm. It was swarming her from all parts of her body; overwhelming heart and making her stomach flutter like a thousand butterflies were live within it. Still, she gazed intently at Smoulderstar, her petite smile unwavering. She could tell by his expression that he was enjoying her company as well. At least, that’s what she was hoping; who didn’t relish occasional warm company? Suddenly, Runningwind felt self-conscious, feeling every flaw in her pretty tortoiseshell pelt. She cursed herself for not taking the time to clean her fur before heading out of the warriors’ den. It took all of her will not to disregard the mouse and begin grooming. It was a rather hideous habit, and was not to mention rude in the midst of a conversation with the clan leader.

Within her conscience, Runningwind pulled away from the word ‘leader’. It felt wrong to call the tom that any longer, she did not understand why, though. It seemed to rob him of his name, Smoulderstar, which she thought, was great as is. She was also rather certain that the tom disliked being called ‘ThunderClan leader’ as well. She could tell by the way he flinched whenever some cat called him that; perhaps Smoulderstar was questioning his position as leader. This stray theory caused Runningwind’s thoughts to shift completely to the tom’s own desires. This couldn’t be. Smoulderstar appeared to be alright with taking on the duties of a leader – Runningwind would have gladly taken the position and the title that accompanied it – but at times he seemed uncertain. Though wasn’t it natural for a leader to question his decisions? After all, they did affect all the lives on the entire clan, perhaps that’s why Smoulderstar makes this more of a democracy.

All the while, Runningwind continued beaming, her eyes warm and playful. Obviously, Smoulderstar replied to her question. "You won't believe this, but... a mouse just ran right into my paws. I feel sorry for the poor beast, probably a horribly confused thing. It didn't seem like fair game for him to just step into my outstretched claws." Runningwind blinked in surprise, never hearing such a ludicrous story before. It wasn’t breath-taking, but she couldn’t recall prey ever hopping into her paws, just begging to be killed and taken back to the clan to be eaten. Runningwind giggled softly, a chiming noise, and mewed, "Now, that certainly would make my hunting easier. Wouldn’t it?" A teasing look flickered in her amberish-green eyes. Though Runningwind became bewildered; by the look of his face, Smoulderstar actually looked sorry for the prey’s life. She shrugged this off and quickly dipped her head to take another bite of her scrawny mouse – even if only to cover for her pitiful skills at separating her emotions from her expressions.

The mouse was nearly gone, and Runningwind could feel its aftermath building within her muscles. Her stomach no longer yearned for a bigger meal, and the lean and slight muscles felt rejuvenated and ready to chase down a thousand squirrels. After the mouse was partially consumed, she knew that she would have enough energy to last her until her next meal. In mid swallow, Smoulderstar spoke once more and said something that made Runningwind choke on her moderately chewed food. She quickly relaxed her throat and let the food slide smoothly down her throat. Then, like a kit, gasped for air for a split second, attempting to comprehend what Smoulderstar had requested. "Do you... Do you want to go hunting with me? I haven't been out in forever. Thunderclaw's been looming over me like my own shadow. Just go out and come back before he notices." Runningwind was certain that is what Smoulderstar had inquired. She hoped the handsome tom had not witnessed her embarrassing episode. On the contrary, a hearty and cheerful chuckle erupted from Smoulderstar. She was pretty sure it was not because she had nearly choked, but because he found his last remark rather humorous.

Runningwind looked up from her eaten mouse cadaver and couldn’t help but return this gesture with a delicate giggle of her own. Clearly, the two cats’ laughter could be heard throughout the camp, ringing like alarms, trying to wake up their clan mates. Soon, Runningwind contracted her laughter to an inaudible sgreat person, then slowly began to purr, her eyes content. She nodded to Smoulderstar gently, and slowly got to her paws, her tail flicking impatiently. She padded over to the good-looking tom and lightly nudged her shoulder, not hesitating to ponder whether this kind of token was too personal. She couldn’t veil her satisfaction for much longer. Runningwind then purred, “I would be delighted, Smoulderstar.” She smiled once more and nodded towards the clan entrance, making a stepping notion, "Shall we?"

[wyr.]

♠ The cats of ThunderClan were slowly coming to life, energy slowly flowing through their bodies, awakening them from a deep, dreamless slumber. Their eyes fluttered open, covered in a layer of haze, barely seeing anything. Slowly, their vision came to them, each registering their surroundings with confused eyes. Some let out huge yawns, their bodies splayed out on the ground shaking. Some just eyed the light filtering through the cracks in their den and wished for five more moments of good sleep. But, they knew they couldn't have it. They'd wait for night when it was easier to drift into unconsciousness. Slowly, they leaned into upright positions, giving their fur of few soft licks for measure. Some fully groomed themselves, getting ready for the day ahead. And some leaped out of their nests, padding off into the sunlight, mewing to themselves, dazed. Soon the deputy would start putting cats on patrols, kicking the day off. Why not the leader? Because he had plans of his very own today. He was going to lay around, telling the deputy what he thought might be a good idea to do around the camp, while he really did nothing. He was going to stretch his limbs and do something for his Clan. He was going to do something before he got lazy, old, and fat, like he thought warriors seemed to want their leaders to get by treating them like StarClan and worshipping the ground they walked on. No. That wasn't happening to him. He was going to go hunting with a fellow warrior. A fellow one, not his warrior. And he was going to like it!

♠ Recently Smoulderstar had felt like he was in a cage. When he had been made leader, his main emotion was shock. He had never been... what you would call... ambitious? He had never wanted anything more than his life as a warrior. He had been fairly surprised when he was chosen to be deputy, a high position that he had never expected, even from kithood, to ever, ever become. When the leader, with only one life left, died in a quarrel over the border, he had seen the lights fade from their eyes. A feeling had come over him that he'd never felt before. A deep sorrow that stung so deep, it felt as if his bones had been shattered. He'd been breathless, slightly unaware of his surroundings. His heart had kicked it up a notch, thudding so fast that it left him in the dust. The world had just stopped for a moment, the once fighting cats stopping, the rivaling warriors yelping and scrambling back over the border into their territory. He had helped his fellow warriors lift the dead leader onto their shoulders and stumble back to the camp, still shellshocked. When his eyes met any other cat's, he could tell what they were thinking. Something big had changed. Big. His life and the life of their Clan.

♠ Patches of grass swayed in the quiet zephyrs. They folded over themselves, into other patches of grass, gently touching their brothers with the edges of the blades. Dew fell off them, quickly evaporating into the air, racing upward to join the clouds, floating lazily in the sky. The sun's edges were blurring into undistinguished light, not as sharp as it had been before when it was nearer, just coming out of the ground and moving into the air. As it rose, casting out blinding sunlight, it became more and more vauge. The sky was like fire on water, flames licking at the water that lapped upon it. Slowly, the water made the fire sizzle away into nothingness until the sun was high in the center of the sky and dawn was over and gone from the land of feral felines. The smell of vegetation filled the air, eating away at any other scent, screaming out to be noticed. It was a new smell after all of the snow, coating the aroma and making it unoticable. It weaved in and out through the smell of crisp, fresh plantlife and collapsed it within itself, leaving only icy blankness in its gelid wake.

♠ Her eyes had been warm like the tom's smile before he spoke. When he did, the she-cat blinked in surprise. Obviously she hadn't heard anything like the tom's strange yet slightly humorous story. He could understand. He'd never heard of anything like it either. Sure, sometimes he'd caught mice uncharacteristically close to the camp, but never had they charged in before. It was downright strange. "Now, that certainly would make my hunting easier. Wouldn’t it?" Her amber-green eyes told him she was joking. He grinned once more, still feeling a little unsure. Did she think he was just kidding about the mouse? He watched her intently as she took another bite of her scrawny mouse. Surely that wasn't enough food to get through the day. For a moment, he considered offering up the plump mouse he had... obtained. His brain told him he shouldn't. That would be... too forward. Instead, he merely lowered his maw, a slight blush coming to his face as he realized how ridiculous his story was. He busied himself by plucking a few stray feathers from his meal and taking a few bites. After that, he eyed the she-cat thoughtfully. She really was quite pretty. He raised his eyebrows, thinking to himself. He looked her in the eye, and his lips automatically parted. His nostrils flared as he sucked in oxygen. The raised brows, parted lips, and flaring nostrils gave his face a generally friendly look.

♠ After he'd inquired his question, his gaze locked to the ground. It was like some sort of instinct. His muscles tightened, his ears raised to hear her answer. There was a strange sound, and he looked up then back down. He figured it must be her swallowing, though it had seemed louder than usual. There was a little breath of air, and his ears swiveled forward curiously. Not daring to look up again, he just listened. There was a soft, chiming giggle to accompany the chortle he had let out after his question. His nose twitched at the sound, his ears reveling in the melodic notes. He figured the warriors must hear them, bewildered faces already masking their tired faces. His fur prickled as he pawed the ground restlessly, wanting to get out and moving after so long in his den discussing possible patrol combinations with his deputy. Smoulderstar was fixed upon the idea of going out with Runningwind into the forest. He told himself it was just to supply food for the Clan, but he knew it was something more. Something in him wanted him to get to know this she-cat. He had never thought about she-cats since he had become leader. He had been so wrapped up in his own duties that he had completely ignored his... common desires. Not to say that before he had become leader he had stared open-mouthed at females all day. No. Quite the contrary. Actually, he had at least given them a glance. Now it seemed like gender's blurred together in the stress that was his life. He paid equal attention to both sexes. Any tom knew that that just wasn't natural.

♠ Smoulderstar looked up once more, waiting on his response. Runningwind was purring much to his relief. Delighted, he let out a purr of his own. Any cat passing would say that they were flirting. Thing was, Smoulderstar didn't know it. For some reason, he just wanted to look good in front of the female. He flicked his ears in a subtle gesture, scooting a little to the side away from the fresh-kill pile. He was trying to make her focus on him, trying to look more like an individual. It was a tactic most toms used to be noticed. He stood taller, giving his chest fur a few rough licks to smooth the ruffled fur, trying to look as nice as he could. His eyes darted over her face and chest, voyaging through her appearance. He leaned forward, his ears fluttering to the back of his head, his eyes growing round. Runningwind got to her paws, and he finished off his blackbird quickly. She walked over and nudged his shoulder, making his fur bristle once more. “I would be delighted, Smoulderstar.” He felt a burst of happiness, quickly getting up, his tail flicking back and forth. He purred when she nodded toward the entrance, showing that she was eager to leave. "Shall we?" she asked him. He bobbed his head up and down, letting his tail drift over her spine to rest on its center, ready to guide her to the entrance. He didn't want to lose her. "It'd be my pleasure." He moved a bit forward, ready to leave, but not wanting to leave her behind.

OOC :
how long was the thought? 1480 words
and who was the puppet? smoulderstar
the audience? runningwind
any requests? nope
your level of excitement? looooooooooow.
any ideas? nope

[`s y nt h et i c !?]

Runningwind observed with amusement as Smoulderstar strived to become more of an individual. Though she couldn’t help but feel flattered. Her own leader, no, her own fellow clan mate was trying to stand out. She could not recall the tom ever being so self-confident or original, so she liked it. His gorgeously feathered-out fur and dazzling azure eyes seized Runningwind’s attention. It was tempting as ever not to try and get him to talk. To hear his husky yet smooth voice once again; it would surely send quakes of pleasure down the she-cat’s spine. Instead, she focused on the entrance ahead of her, hesitantly casting a side-glance Smoulderstar’s way. To her relief, he did not take her eagerness the wrong way. Instead, the tom nodded and ever so gently placed his tail at the center of her spine. The fur underneath Smoulderstar’s tail-touch tingled lightly, melting Runningwind into a giddy ball of fur.

Get a hold of yourself, girl!

Runningwind blinked her eyes – that were once glazed with wonderment – and slowly craned her neck to face Smoulderstar. Just then, he said something that made Runningwind purr once again, even louder than before. Smoulderstar’s mew caused Runningwind to gently smile at him, holding his warm gaze. Then, she began to move forward, just as Smoulderstar had. Though she made sure not to pull away from the tom’s tail. She felt secure in his soft grasp, almost scared of losing that tingling feeling. In his protecting hold, Runningwind experienced a strange sensation. Assurance. Was this what if felt like to have someone to talk with and such? The she-cat adored this tingle, and desperately clawed at it, unwilling to let it leave her and turn her cold once again. The two ThunderClan cats inaudibly padded towards the camp entrance. Though they did cast side-glances now and then to absorb each others’ expressions. Runningwind’s was rather content, her ears peacefully lying against her skull and her tail flicking giddily at Smoulderstar’s touch.

- - - - -

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Runnginwind’s soft mew echoed throughout the vast forest as they left the camp far behind them. Obviously this inquiry was directed toward Smoulderstar, but she did not look back to catch his answer. The natural beauty of the forest was overwhelming her once again. The trees around her erupted in birdsong, and the sound of a tranquil stream droned on somewhere nearby. She sort of allowed this sensation to take control of her thoughts. She disliked the fact that Smoulderstar had to remove his touch once the terrain became too rough. Where his tail once was, Runningwind’s fur tingled, a little cold now. So cold, that it took all of Runningwind’s will not to stretch back and furiously lick at it. Of course, the two had remained fairly close throughout the entire trek, only stopping to take in the lush greenery. She was right: this was going to be a wonderful newleaf. But not for the same reason.

Plenty of prey to catch.

Runningwind’s eyes widened as her thoughts began to straighten out once again. She had completely forgotten why she had even come out here! Of course, she and Smoulderstar were here to hunt. So far, they hadn’t caught a thing, but they hadn’t even attempted, yet. Runningwind glanced back over to Smoulderstar and blinked kindly, “I’ll search the ravine for any prey.” She flicked her tail over to its general location, and then waved it as a sign of farewell. She would not be far off, but she could not help but hesitate as she padded away. In just a few short steps, she was standing behind the shrubbery that lined the ravine’s mouth. Behind her, Smoulderstar was still in plain sight, to her relief. And of course, she was correct about her prediction. Ahead, she could see two water voles – rather close together – scouring the grass of edible plant life. Perfect. Runningwind’s ears plastered against her skull as she focused on her task, her paws inaudibly scuffling as she prepared to pounce. Timing her attack precisely, she then hopped up, gracefully leaping from behind her shrub and landing upon both pieces of prey. One crumbled beneath her hind paws, and the other was caught between her forepaws. She expertly bit its neck to dispatch it, then smothered the other until it stopped thrashing beneath her hind paws.

Flawless!

Runningwind picked up both pieces of prey and proudly stepped back into the clearing where she and Smoulderstar had separated. She placed them both at the center, as a sort of make-shift fresh-kill pile, and then nodded to Smoulderstar. “Prey is running well today. So we should keep our catches here, because I have a feeling we’re going to have to take two trips to carry all of it back.” Runningwind’s following giggle was a light-hearted chime. Then she carefully eyed the tom and nodded to him before padding off once more to search for more prey. Of course, she made sure to stay a certain distance from him, not wanting to lose his connection. She had a feeling that if she lost sight of him, she would go hysteric and believe that she was lost! Such an odd feeling.

[wyr.]

♠ Was this what it felt like? It was like normal thought, yes, but it was less complex, softer... It was like a bed of fresh moss waiting for some feline to press their fur against it and fall into a deep, content slumber. It was energy as well. An energy that traversed the body in tingling waves. It coarsed through every appendage in a feline's being, almost as if they were being submerged in water. A fantastic type of water that soothed their skin, almost numbing eveything going on around them but intensifying every touch and every sound from the one who had caused such seren pleasure. Was this what it felt like? To feel as if someone was constantly pressed up against your side, holding you up, holding your own weight when you cannot. It was like an invisible force that simply overwhelmed you. Yes, that was the word. It was overwhelming, but it was a good kind. Not the kind to cause stress or frustration, just joy, blurring the once important things in someone life and making only that joy clear. Leaving the one person whom it touched in a dreamy, pleasant kind of state of calmness. What this was it felt like?

♠ Smoulderstar was not a compassionate type of warrior. He wasn't the type to become consumed in the ferocious happiness that now ate away at his soul. But, something had occurred. The she-cat before him. Something inside his rough, though soft-spoken, heart had simply melted in the warmth of her gaze and the rolling sound of her perfect mew. A desire to make her smile and purr like that again touched him, emptying like a fluid into his eyes, which grew whole and content, and his tail, which wavered over curved spine, suddenly forgetting how to move in a more natural, rhythmatic pattern. His heart skipped a beat, a jolt making him flinch. He wasn't sure what made him feel like this. It was a feeling new to the youthful leader of ThunderClan. A feeling that seemed to be, to him, highly addictive. His yearning desire entered his eyes, and he purred in a low tone, not the type of tone that one would simply give a friend. A type that he would only give to this she-cat, for she was different. Not like the other warriors of his Clan, whome he could just order, though he did not enjoy telling his comrades what to do. He sensed the fact that he could not be a superior with her. He could only be equal. Smoulderstar let these conflicted feelings drain into his expressive, blue orbs, allowing her to see what she felt if she so wished.

♠ Ideas like those mentioned before flooded through the multi-colored tom's mind, flooding his thoughts like a river's high-rising waters thrash over pebbles on its banks. It seemed too much for poor Smoulderstar. Too many feelings at once to be healthy with too many thoughts. So, he simply shut down all thought activity, deciding he would bask in the moments he had with Runningwind and think about them later when he couldn't bask anymore. Wouldn't that make them last longer? Oops. No. That was another thought. Dazed, Smoulderstar walked with his fellow Clanmate to the entrance of the camp, staring blankly at the spot where the crazed mouse had died. There was a little bit of blood, glistening in the sunlight, on one blade in a tuft of grass. He shook his cranium, turning to stare into Runningwind's face, taking in her expression with contentment. Her ears were lying gracefully by the sides of her head. Realizing that his stature and expression were very uptight, he let himself loosen up, rolling his shoulders. He then let himself settle into a relaxed expression, twitching his nose at Runningwind. "Thanks." he murmured softly. "Thanks for coming out today. You might not know it, but it means a lot to me." The words were somewhat rushed, but he let them out then turned away, his face feeling hot. At least, the words that had building up inside him had been said. That made him feel comforted.

***

♠ "It is, it is." he said to Runningwind in reply, a smile unfolding on his graceful features. But, it wasn't his face he was concerned with. It was hers. Smoulderstar had been staring at Runningwind's expression since he'd left the camp, bathing himself in the beauty of her yellow-green eyes. But now he removed his gaze from the petrifying she-cat that stood before him and stared at the nature that had been surrounding him for all the time he had been walking with his... his warrior. The trees towered over him, the saplings that had been here once before he was born now scraping the sky with their full-leafed branched. He unsheathed his claws and rolled them on the ground, his body just itching to cling to the bark and see how far up the tree he could get like when he was an apprentice, bright eyed and ready to go. He denied the urge, letting his gaze fall on the puffy clouds, tinged grey by the rain they carried. It wasn't a stormy grey. It was the kind that brought small sprinkles to feed the plants below. He liked the days when he could listen to the soft rain and stare into the greyness. It made him feel like he was home. In the forest that he hadn't really noticed around him before. Those days made every beauty clear.

♠ His body jerked up as Runningwind glanced back at him, sending his mind into waves of feeling. “I’ll search the ravine for any prey.” A little pang of sorrow lit his expression. He didn't really want her to leave him, but he also felt the need to watch her as she padded off. He knew she could hunt, but he had never seen her do it. Blinking, he gazed after her as she walked towards the ravine. Squinting his eyes, he stared with a feline's intensity, for the she-cat had halted. There, close enough together, were two water voles. They were pretty things, plump enough to have enough meat on either of them to feed two apprentices. Or maybe Smoulderstar exaggerated a little. Smoulderstar set a paw forth in case one vole decided he wanted to race off. He really hadn't expected it when Runningwind leaped for both of them. One paw landed on one of the voles, crushing it under the paw's weight. The other paw caught the second vole where Runningwind could easily kill it with a a bite to its neck. An impressed look covered his face, and he smiled, eager to see what other hunting techniques she used. "Wow..." he murmured inaudibly to himself.



♠ “Prey is running well today. So we should keep our catches here, because I have a feeling we’re going to have to take two trips to carry all of it back.” He grinned, silently realizing he should be hunting, too. He turned paw just as she did, giving one lick to his chest fur. "All right, I'll get started then." Across the clearing, stones were bunched together, light shimmering down upon them. Smoulderstar ran, scrabbling over the rocks. He had been expecting to find a piece of prey under the rocks. Suprised was he to see a bird dropping from a branch overhead, its wings flapping hard. Smoulderstar wasn't that strong. He was more of a running type of cat. But all that cardio activity must have built some muscle because when he took a leap of faith, hurling himself high into the air, his claws actually met the bird's wing, sending it down. Down into the rocks where it splayed out, blood trickling onto the cold, hard surface. He landed on the ground, tail flicking and rushed toward the bird to kill it. He didn't want it to bask in pain. "Got one! We're on a roll!" Caught up in the moment, he trotted up to Runningwind, brushing his fur against hers. He beamed down on her.

OOC :
how long was the thought? 1348 words
and who was the puppet? smoulderstar
the audience? runningwind
any requests? nope
your level of excitement? looooooooooow.
any ideas? sorry if there's typos; I couldn't check. also, do you want me to move this thread to a hunting board?