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.
It felt weird to be in the belly of a decaying beast but Snowwhisker felt utterly calm. It was damp being so near the water but he kept exploring. He knew that he had to be careful since rats were common to lurk around the ancestral land of when Twolegs and cats had been trapped in the beast. He’s heard the legends.
Snowwhisker was lucky to have found it. Despite living his whole life in JungleClan, he still got lost within its territories, a bad memory when it came to directions. He had been trying to find somewhere new, taking the opportunity while Losteye was on patrol.
Snowwhisker stared out towards the ocean, wanting to know how far it went out, where did this beast come from? He stared down, as if trying to will it to come back alive and take him off this island, to help him find new lands to explore. No such luck. The dead stay dead after all.
The white tom padded around, tasting the scent around him. He could smell rats but he knew that wouldn’t approach. Nor would he mess with them. Rats were fighters and Snowwhisker was not.
Sometimes Snowwhisker wondered if he had heard the stories wrong. It wouldn’t be too far fetched with how his ears worked. Maybe it had been a giant floating den with tunnels? Maybe a floating camp? Do camps float though?
His attention was caught by when he saw a strange looking nest. It was made of wood, but it was splintered. Snowwhisker hopped into the nest and was greeted by scratchy, mildewy fabric. He also saw a moss covered corpse. It laid limp, it’s black, soulless eye staring at him.
Snowwhisker noticed blackish fluffy bits coming out of the corpse. No, it wasn’t an animal. A Twoleg item that looked like a dead animal. Snowwhisker poked it, interested in what it’s function was supposed to be. Maybe it had been some type of bait to lure prey for the Twolegs.
He smelled it and the scent smelled like sickness. If he brought it back, it could bring illness to the camp. Even if it was soft and fluffy, it was dangerous. Snowwhisker hopped out of the nest only to have half his body get swallowed up. A hole? He wasn’t falling any further because it was too small but he was trapped.
Well, maybe he’ll just wait and see what would happen. Maybe someone would find him. Losteye definitely would. With a small yawn, the white tom started dozing off.
It was on her daily walks that Orchidbloom found calmness. It was the one thing she did for herself that she could rationalize. Sometimes they took her through less-traveled parts of the territory, and she felt comfortable with the fact that someone was getting to the nooks and crannies. It was benefitting the clan as a whole. The way she picked was random, but this time had her walking towards Shipwreck Cove.
The trees and foliage parted to reveal the coastline, with the ocean stretching far out into the distance. The ground started to slope and led towards open sand. As she continued walking, the skeleton of decaying wood came into view, along with the rock that pierced the surface of the water. She paused to examine the sight, and when did, she realized there was a fresh cat scent. It was JungleClan, so she wasn’t alarmed, but she was definitely curious.
The silver tabby followed it carefully, closer and closer to the old Twoleg contraption. She paused when it led inside. Did she want to go in? …She didn’t really want to, but she wanted to see who else was out exploring. Steeling herself, she entered the rotting wood. Strong, unpleasant odors assaulted her almost immediately, but she kept going. They mingled with the cat scent and she was beginning to have trouble with following it. “Hello?” she called out hesitantly as she eyed the countless wooden beams. They led to places she couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Cranefeather padded along the coastline. For once she was at ease. The weather was nice, and while it was not as nice as the night sky, the sun made her warm. Pleasant weather was a luxury she decided couldn't come around every day and she might as well get out of the camp as it lasts.
She was familiar with the Twolegs and their nonsensical contraptions. This area smelled of death, which Cranefeather didn't mind. It masked her scent fairly well and she liked to go on dangerous adventures at times. Her curiosity simply gets the better of her.
A rat scuttled along a rotting pile of wood, sniffing and seemingly following a trail. Cranefeather sniffed as well. Was there something alive here? Of course, there was. There were her Clanmates. Perhaps they had finally found intrigue in this place or came to test out its dangers.
Cranefeather growled and without hesitation pounced on the huge rat. It squirmed in surprise under her paws. Cats usually avoided rats this size because these rats could put up a sizable fight and cause injury. Cranefeather, however, enjoyed the struggle. She hit the rat again and again on the head, causing it to squeal in pain. She originally had no intention of killing it, but the rat was strong too. It gnawed at Cranefeather's leg in attempts to free itself. Pain shot through her front paw.
Well, that's enough play for now, Cranefeather thought. She brought her jaws down on the poor animal and held it off the group in her mouth. She felt the rat's warm blood drip through her jaws as it slowly stopped twitched. Pity, she thought. She was only going to torture the rat for a while, but now it had become fresh kill.
Carrying the large prey in her jaws, she leaped across the rotting monster. A flash of white caught her attention. She stopped. Snowwhisker? Was he sleeping? In a place like this? Cranefeather approached Snowwhisker. She didn't mean to scare him, but with her white pelt spotted with blood, Cranefeather was a terrifying sight.
Snowwhisker could hear faint noises. A cats meow, a rat's squeak. But at the same time, he couldn't hear it too clearly. When he opened his eyes, he let out a terrifying screech when he saw a white cat, blood staining her fur. A second later and he managed to cam himself down. It was Cranefeather, but his heart was still pounding. She looked even far more terrifying than usual with a large rat in her mouth and its blood on her fur.
Another part of him was worried she got injured. He noticed a flash of silver coming towards them and knew immediately, it was Orchidbloom. How embarrassing to be seen like this. He was already known around in the Clan as a screw up and other cats usually let him do as he pleased as long as he didn't get in their way.
Snowwhisker gave the two a smile. "Cranefeather, Orchidbloom. I was just dreaming that two lovely cats such as yourselves would come to my rescue!" His blue eyes were bright and his voice was loud. The remark was playful but it sounded like he was sleepy instead due to his slurring.
Cranefeather scoffed at the fluffy white tom. If there was any cat that lacked grace and common sense in the Clan, it would definitely be Snowwhisker. She was amused by his terror, and even more amused by his humiliating situation.
They were family, supposedly. But Cranefeather never treated her family and her Clanmates differently. Family did not mean love or care; family meant unnecessary obligations and imposed expectations. Cranefeather was intent on avoiding all that traditional junk. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I scare you?" she meowed coldly to Snowwhisker. She glanced over Snowwhisker's sleepy and soft demeanor. What a nuisance to the Clan. It was amazing some predator hadn't picked him off already. "Why aren't you back at the camp grooming yourself? It's not like you to hunt anyway."
A soft hello echoed behind her, and Cranefeather turned to see Orchidbloom's silver fur. Another cat, Cranefeather thought in exasperation. She would have thought this place was isolated enough so that she could get some time alone, but it seemed that was not the case. She had no intention of helping either of them, and decided she would find a way to excuse herself and leave. "Why don't you help him, Orchidbloom?" she gave a nasty sneer and flicked her tail at Snowwhisker's ridiculous state. "I just had a fight and wouldn't want to get rat blood all over his precious kittypet fur."
Orchidbloom wandered closer when her question received no coherent reply, and she was surprised to see two clanmates—Cranefeather and Snowwhisker—already there. She took a moment to digest the situation, uncertain on how Snowwhisker managed the feat. She heard rumors about Snowwhisker, that apparently, he was clumsy and spacey. They were only rumors though, and she never bought into idle gossip or anything close to it.
She moved closer to help, but Cranefeather speaking made her pause. She swiveled her amber gaze to the other she-cat, studying her in muted contemplation. The expression on Cranefeather’s face surprised her, and it took her a moment to remember that she was known for her… unorthodox personality. Once again, she wouldn’t buy into what she heard from other cats, but the current confrontation was enough to at least make her cautious. The flippant, errant tone made her clench her teeth to bite back sharpened words of her own. It wasn’t worth what she would get out of it, not here.
Instead, she replied with a chilled inflection, “Of course I will.” She ignored the latter comment in favor of approaching Snowwhisker. She circled him a few times with measured steps, attempting to see his predicament from all angles. “How stuck are you? Can I just pull on your scruff to get you out, or will it take more than that?”
“Oh, I wasn’t hunting, just exploring. I doubt that I could hunt rats, they’re vicious and can smell weakness,” he joked. “And I groomed my fur this morning. Can’t you tell?” He was looking for some kind of praise. His fur was the only thing that he had going for him, or so he was told by other Clanmates.
Instead of getting offended by Cranefeather’s blatant insult, the tom smiled at her. “Oh, thanks for the compliment Cranefeather but I bet your fur is much softer than mine. But thanks for considering my feelings!” He batted his eyes before looking at Orchidbloom.
How stuck was he? He was stuck enough that he couldn’t get out by himself and he hated the thought of getting splinters if they could avoid it. “Um, pulling me by the scruff should work?” He was small and light enough to be pulled easily. Mostly, he was just all fur. “But please be gentle? I don’t want to get splinters.”
He was so glad it was these two and not Losteye. He could almost see the she-cat take pleasure at seeing him fail so spectacularly. It sent a visible chill down his spine. “Can we please hurry this along? I don’t want to sound impatient but...I’m getting kinda spooked by this place.”
Orchidbloom’s eyes widened slightly. “I’ll be gentle. I wouldn’t try to hurt you intentionally.” She circled Snowwhisker a few more times to confirm her thoughts, and she nodded along idly to his final sentence. The wooden wreckage did feel eerie, the air heavy. She also felt like she was being watched, and maybe it was her, but it seemed too quiet. Getting out quickly seemed like the best course of action.
At last, the silver tabby stepped up and carefully took the tom’s scruff between her teeth. She double-checked her positioning and footing, and bracing herself, she pulled.
Snowwhisker wasn’t heavy, just as he said, but it still took a lot of her strength regardless. She assumed Snowwhisker was helping from his end, but Orchidbloom couldn’t help glancing sideways at Cranefeather. It would doubtlessly be easier if the other she-cat helped, but she already made a point of not helping. Orchidbloom didn’t understand it, but she knew she could do it herself—even if it took a little longer.
She tugged with each step, and with each step, they got a little farther. Orchidbloom couldn’t communicate of course, but it didn’t take much longer before Snowwhisker was hauled out completely.
Orchidbloom took a few breaths to recollect herself. “There. Now you’re free,” she said with a smile.
Cranefeather watched without helping as Orchidblood complied and dragged Snowwhisker out of his miserable hiding spot. She was making a point not to help out. In fact, she secretly thought Snowwhisker deserved to be left there for his clumsiness. He can be such a liability to the Clan and Cranefeather thought nothing positive of him.
Cranefeather was not Losteye, but at the moment she shared a small enjoyment of watching Snowwhisker's struggles. Splinters. The fluffy kittypet was afraid of splinters. Being around him was like taking care of a kit who had never left the nursery. "Since you are so terrified of nothing, why not cease the chit chatting and get back to the nursery where you belong?" Cranefeather whipped her tail at Snowwhisker once he was out of the hole.
Just as she spoke, there was a skittering sound and some high-pitched hisses. Cranefeather glanced at the gloomy landscape. A few pairs of bright eyes shone back at her, and she caught sight of some naked, furless tails. Rats. Dozens of them. Orchidbloomd and Snowwhisker were right to be spooked by this place. Trouble was here.
Cranefeather was not spooked, but she was annoyed that Snowwhisker had gotten into this situation. In fact, there were few things that spooked her in the first place. Most cats avoided her, and even predators at times seemed warded off by her aggression. She had learned that, surprisingly, most living things were so terrified of confrontation. All she had to do was bare her teeth to back them down. If it a fight it was, a fight there would be. "Great, looks like we have some company," she growled and motioned for Orchidbloom and Snowwhisker to turn around and face the rats.
Snowwhisker’s fur bristled as he felt something try to nip his tail. A rat! He pressed closer to the two she-cat’s. He wanted to run but he also didn’t want to leave his Clanmates. “Uh...maybe we can try to negotiate peace with them?” Snowwhisker suggested, trying to keep it light hearted despite the situation.
He stepped away from Cranefeather and Orchidbloom and towards a rat. Could rats understand cats? Maybe if he spoke slowly enough, one would get it. “Hello!” His voice seemed to ear splitting as it broke the silence. Beady eyes focused on him and he cleared his throat with a cough. “I am Snowwhisker of JungleClan. This is Cranefeather and Orchidbloom.” His tail swished as he waited for a response
There was none he could hear.
“Anyways, we didn’t mean to disturb your rest and well, we come in peace. Well, I know Cranefeather killed your uh...friend but I mean, it’s the circle of life, right? And she’s very sorry for it.” He hoped he was being distracting enough so they could find a opening.
One of the rats lunged for his throat and he flinched back. “I don’t think negotiating is going to work,” he whispered loudly to the two she-cats.
Cranefeather almost felt a small hint of fear, facing the group of sturdy-looking rats. However, once Snowwhisker opened his blustering mouth, any sign of hesitation faded from Cranefeather's thoughts. It was replaced by a condescending annoyance sprinkled with some disbelief. How did such a cat ever become a warrior?
"I am not sorry, you dense cloud!" Cranefeather snapped at Snowwhisker, unsheathing her claws at the rats. "I was out hunting and actually being useful, unlike you. Rats are prey, and prey are food." Cranefeather, per usual, was eager for a fight. She placed her freshly-killed rat on the ground, as if gloating over her kill and provoking the rats' attack. The rats greatly outnumbered them but she did not mind getting a little bloodied. This was all life was about to her. She thought to herself that perhaps the weak, like Snowwhisker, will eventually get picked off.
A rat lunged for Snowwhisker's throat as he stepped forward. Cranefeather was all too ready for action; she sprung toward the rat and with a loud smack slammed it into the ground.
"Well?" she hissed at Snowwhisker's slow reaction rates. He could have easily been killed already. She was not going to defend him a second time. "Get on with it or you're going to be prey as well."
There was a flurry of squeaks and a whole lot of chittering before the wave of black rodents swarmed forward. "Negotiations," Cranefeather sarcastically spat under her breath and nearly laughed as her claws met rat flesh. Fangs pricked her fur and tiny claws scrambled for a grip on her pelt. Cranefeather would fight until the end. Talking solved no problems.
247 words (ooc: snowwhisker omg what are you doing xD)
Just as Orchidbloom was ready to leave the forsaken shipwreck, the scurrying of tiny paws—of a lot of tiny paws—seemed to echo all around them. It was only a moment later that she saw beady eyes glowing in the dim light, and her fur stood on end. How could they possibly get out of this? She looked at Cranefeather, and then Snowwhisker. She had to double-take when the tom started talking to the rats. She opened her mouth, as if to warn him against it, but nothing came out.
A rat launched itself at Snowwhisker, and before she could think to do anything, Cranefeather intercepted it. Its body thumped against the ground, and it didn’t move under her paws.
Orchidbloom was left no more time to process as the rats swarmed and closed in as a cohesive unit. Their ability to move together would have amazed her if she wasn’t one of their targets. She let out a screech and backed away, swiping to keep them out of reach. They had the advantage in numbers, though, so they broke her invisible barrier easily. Small, sharp teeth and claws tangled in her long pelt, and she bucked to try and loosen them.
There was no luck. Her claws sank into bodies as they came under her paws, and she pulled one off her shoulder, biting down until she heard a crunch. The rats were endless, and the beginnings of fear began to creep in her mind.
Cranefeather, unlike the others, was enjoying this fight. She loved the salty tang of blood on her fangs and the feel of flesh under her claws. It was what her Clan feared about her, and they were often right to fear it. Cranefeather was a voracious fighter; her skill was fueled by both training and hunger for violence.
Her claws met rat after at, and she showed no mercy. There was no need to, and that was the best part. These were not Clanmates or even other cats. In midst of the battle, Cranefeather felt invigorated. She knew, however, that they would not hold out forever. It was three of them against... a countless number of rats. Cats might be strong individually and in skill, but rats hunted using their large numbers. Cranefeather caught sight of one rat who stood off to the side a bit more. This one was larger, and made a series of chattering noises she could not understand. For a moment she thought it resembled what Toucanstar did when trouble arose. Did rats have leaders and commanders?
If they did, perhaps that would end this battle.
"Snowwhisker!" she yowled to her closest Clanmate. "Get that one!"
It was as futile as talking to a rock. She was unsure whether Snowwhisker heard her among the chaos. Even more so, she was unsure Snowwhisker understood her proposition. She turned to Orchidbloom instead, who was a little further away from her. Perhaps the more senior warrior would understand. "Orchidblood! That rat over there!" she managed to shriek before disappearing again under a pile of writhing rats. Hopefully Orchidbloom at heard her.
