09.30.2019 → There has been some exciting changes on CD lately! We've added a new monarchy to the groups of cats on the islands, as well as restructured the boards a bit to allow for some space - thus, redrawing the map! We've also promoted Nifty to Global Mod! There are some auditions open right now for JungleClan Deputy as well as for all of the new Kingdom of Mokuhau high ranks - Artemis
09.12.2019 → Unfortunately Elaedria is stepping down as administrator due to life being too busy to keep up! The site will be going through some restructuring in high ranks as well due to this. Effective immediately, the word count is now 100 minimum. Some more changes will be coming in the future - members have been emailed a survey to help us figure out what to change and how to get better. Thanks for your patience! - Artemis
WEATHER
Year 55, Scorching Sands 09.05.2019 → The temperatures of the islands are a steady 98° F on land/ high 80s in water. There is almost no breeze, the sun is uncomfortably warm.
Prey during the day is pretty scarce due to the heat, however is quite active after the sun goes down.
Lost in the dense jungles of scattered islands, facing perils unimagined by their ancestors, are three warrior groups - The traditional JungleClan, descendants of the original clans carried aboard a twoleg contraption from their home long ago and breaking new ground on old beliefs. Second, the curious TidalClan, made up of kittypets who chose to abandon their long since passed twoleg civilization ways for those of true felines. Lastly, the mysterious Tribe of Twisted Roots, hidden in the mist from others with their strange ways and a deeper knowledge of the land around them. Together they must learn how to take their fate into their own paws if they wish to survive this land of erupting mountains and roaring waters.
Join our crew and dive into an island-based Warriors roleplay - a twist on the original series by Erin Hunter. We are a semi-literate site with a minimum of 100 words per post.
Rockshade liked Orchidbloom, but he was jealous of her.
The tom had many traits that made him a good warrior. He was levelheaded, smart, adaptable--he could catch three mice in a day if he put the slightest amount of effort into it. He was good at many things, but patience wasn't one of them. About a moon ago the young warrior had smacked a kit into the ground for daring to disrespect his prey. Rockshade didn't care that his clanmates were more relaxed with the code, but there was a difference between being relaxed and being rude. Not while he could see it, anyway. Now he was stuck forcing these kits to memorize the warrior code. He hated teaching.
The brown tom leaped from branch to branch and scanned the forest floor from on high. He wanted to kill a thrush as soon as possible so he could have an excuse to go home. Even though he usually hunted in silence and only spoke when necessary, he felt like he could exchange some small talk with the slightly older warrior who accompanied him on this patrol. Rockshade's fur brustled under the gentle canopy rain and turned his head to look over his shoulder at the ghost-like she-cat accompanying him.
"You're a weird one, huh?" he mewed bluntly. "Most in JungleClan couldn't give a rat's tail about when border patrols are supposed to be conducted, but you're always on time. I noticed that. Every day you're ready to make a patrol and get going while everybody else is asleep. Why try so hard? You're making me look bad!"
"But most cats look bad next to you," he flirted passively.
[attr="class","hearmenand2"]Rockshade baffled her. At some points he was nothing but lazy. He didn’t strive to do anything but the bare minimum. While she supposed there was nothing wrong with coasting through life, she found it hard to understand. Why would someone be content to let their life slip by in such a way?
But then there were times that he acted completely the opposite. If there was danger, he would act without hesitation. He would do what was asked. If someone was so truly lazy, why would they extend their neck for others? Why would they become reliable?
It made Orchidbloom conclude that he wasn’t lazy for the sake of it. He seemed more uninspired than anything. As if he had untapped potential just waiting to be revealed.
It would be enough for her to decide how she viewed him, but then there was the way he didn’t keep quiet. If he had something to say, he said it, regardless of what it was. While she could appreciate the honesty, she felt there was some tact missing.
She was at odds with his lifestyle, but she respected his hidden charisma.
Orchidbloom was no closer to solving her dilemma as she squinted at Rockshade. While she’d been on her fair share of patrols with him, his comments were sudden and unexpected. It was just the two of them this time, and it seemed to leave his tongue freer than normal.
“I didn’t think punctuality was abnormal in a warrior,” she returned, giving him a side glance. She blinked at his latter statement, keeping her features still. She knew she was graceful, so she accepted his sly compliment with her chin tilted upwards. “Am I ruining that for you too?”
Rockshade guffawed. "I'm just worried about your beauty sleep, Orchidbloom. You could at least let me clean your pelt before we go on a patrol toge-" the warrior cut himself off as he caught the scent of a red junglefowl. It was unmistakable, even in the rain. The tom crouched low as his claws skimmed over a long branch. He snaked between the trees with careful precision and hopped to the ground with a soft 'thud'. Long blades of grass stabbed up into his frame. The warrior maneuvered to the side with a bemused look. Depending on the locale, the ground could have been comprised of swords just as much as plain old dirt. The forest defended itself with it's own terrain. Impressive, but annoying. It didn't matter. No amount of sword grass would stop him from getting his kill.
Rockshade looked back up to the trees, batted the rain from his eyes, and cleared his throat. "Could you throw me a loose stick? Got to push this grass out of the way so I don't get cut. It'd be a hassle to get an infection out here." For a moment he realized getting sick would be a good excuse to get out of a patrol, but he chose to omit that thought. "Actually, I'll push the grass while you stay behind me. I don't want that prey jumping over me while I'm keeping the grass down. I'll make a path, you hunt."
The brown tabby waited idly for his patrol partner to retrieve a big enough stick. No rush, anyway, that fowl would be in the middle of that grass for a while. "Bet you can't wait to get an apprentice, huh!?" he called.
[attr="class","hearmenand2"]Orchidbloom’s expression was growing flatter and flatter the more Rockshade spoke, but she was lucky—and perhaps he was, too—that the scent of prey interrupted him before he could finish. He focused, and any trace of coyness he possessed was gone. Replaced with it was that hidden worth ethic, and she once again struggled with understanding how he could switch so fast.
She screwed her eyes against the drops of water, seeking the tom out as he asked his question against the sound of the rain. It was a good enough plan. She could do it easily. Just as she was about to go find a stick, she heard his voice again. She snorted when he finished, and she called out, “Funny enough, I already have one.”
With that, she turned back the way they had come and nosed around for a stick. Nothing too long, nothing too brittle. It took her a few moments, but she found something suitable. She picked it up and quickly returned to Rockshade.
“Here,” she said once she put it down in front of him. Orchidbloom stood back a moment later and waited expectantly for him to take the lead.
Rockshade gratefully took the stick in his mouth and went to work. He pressed his nose between two long blades of grass and gingerly stepped forward. Both ends of the stick pressed the dangerous plants down into the earth. His paws gingerly stepped over the flattened grass into firm soil. Rockshade breathed in through his nose, slowly retracted his head, and pushed carefully into the next set of sword grass. All the while he could still hear the wild fowl clucking and squawking in distress. Poor thing. The dark tom wanted to put it out of it's misery as soon as possible. His ear flicked as he proved for paw steps behind him. Orchidbloom still had to be careful even though her Clanmate was taking the lead.
He tried to talk around the stick whenever he got the chance. "Already?" he echoed. "Figures. Can't imagine you without one, really. I mean, you were always eager to talk. I don't even know what I'd teach them." Rockshade pushed another clump of grass down. "I mostly figured everything out on my own outside of hunting. It's been moons since I've practiced combat, we hardly interact with the other clans at all. And when we do it's just... talk." Rockshade's tail flicked. "I mean, we call ourselves warriors but I don't really feel like one. We're all just survivors trying to get by. Isn't that what all of us are trying to do at the end of the day?"
"Sorry..." Rockshade would shut his mouth up until they finally met their prey. He was just uselessly prattling on about names that didn't matter, anyway. "It seems like the only thing we ever fight is hunger and disease."
