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.
Barracudabite's personality was flaming rabbit excrement. Not one single JungleClan cat outside of his immediate family wanted to join him on a hunting patrol. All who accompanied him would have to suffer incorrigible sarcasm and unbridled antagonism. Coincidentally, he ended up being the perfect partner for a very particular young warrior. Rockshade remembered how his face tightened when he was paired with Barracudabite for the first time. That fur ball's got a branch stuck up his tail end! Despite his objections, Toucanstar was undeterred by Rockshade's apprehension. The silver tom didn't seem too happy about it either. Rockshade had a habit of sleeping loudly in the warrior's den and was prone to meandering about camp while pretending to work. Meanwhile, Barracudabite's long legs were always moving toward a goal. The bright tom tried to accomplish something every day and didn't hesitate to criticize others for their own lack of effort. For all intensive purposes, they were a powder keg about to explode.
Three moons passed and the two were considered one of the most effective teams in the Clans. Rockshade was the iron that tempered Barracudabite's fire. The blue-eyed tabby wasn't nearly as impulsive when his partner was there to reel him back. Similarly, the plainer of the duo didn't freeze up when the experienced—slightly older warrior needed them to move. Rockshade still didn't really like Barracudabite all that much and he didn't expect his clanmate to feel that way either. Rockshade trusted the long-legged tom. He respected his partner's dutiful nature. Barracudabite could be the muscle, Rockshade would gladly be the brains. He thought the two of them would fit these simple roles forever. If only the forest could be so kind...
"You see that?"
Rockshade carefully crept out the safety of the underbrush. His paws silently filtered through grass until he arrived at the base of a tree trunk. Little claw marks were imprinted on the wood, as if a cat had come there to play. The scent wasn't of JungleClan. Rockshade looked back at Barracudabite to confirm that they were both looking at the same thing. The hot midday sun wasn't giving them any heat mirages. The marks were left by a large cat. Rockshade backed himself slowly into the same bushel he left, ears perked, tail tucked between his legs.
"No problem, buzzardbreath." Rockshade let out a cool breath. "Follow protocol. I'll watch your flank." He didn't need to tell Barracudabite what to do at this point. They needed to stay low and move from cover to cover at a turtle's pace. If the patrol was spotted by a panther then they were already dead. Two adult warriors couldn't take on a panther. They were ghosts. They were quieter, faster, better than they were. Even the normal safety of the trees couldn't protect them. They had to move methodically back to camp and hope that they weren't already being tracked.
[break][break]Barracudabite breathed the musty scents of the jungle in. His nostrils flared as he exhaled, his sharp angular face was pointed towards the ground as he took in everything about his surroundings. He treaded quietly, his pawsteps did not make a sound as he moved. The tom was tall and lean; stealth was something that came naturally to him. The tom's ocean blue eyes slid over to the brown tabby tom accompanying him. Rockshade was a great warrior, nobody could deny that. Barracudabite wasn't over the moon that he was partnered up with him for another patrol, but he thought there were worse cats he could have been forced to spend time with. If anything he could admit the tom was a great tracker. When he set his mind to something, he was focused. The silver tom could respect that.
[break][break]The voice of his partner softly broke through Barracudabite's thoughts. The long-legged tom blinked curiously at Rockshade, following his tabby striped pelt out of the underbrush. The other tom blended it much better than himself with their surroundings, but thankfully he didn't need camouflage to be good at navigating the jungle. His eyes fell on the little claw marks in the ground that Rockshade was studying. The other tom's green eyes locked with his own blue ones for a moment. Barracudabite didn't even have to vocalize an answer. Rockshade must have seen the same feelings in his own eyes as he was having because the tabby backed away slowly, suddenly much more alert and more careful than he had been before.
[break][break]Rockshade's next words were a soft whisper as he breathed them out as quietly as he could. Barracudabite flattened his ears to his skull at the insult, ready to dish out an earful but reminded himself that this wasn't the time or place. Not if they were being hunted. The scent around the claw marks had not been terribly fresh, but you couldn't be too certain. The jungle seemed to be out to claim the lives of JungleClan cats daily. Rockshade had seen many instances of the cruel fate that living on the island provided. In fact, Barracudabite was lucky to have his entire immediate family alive; well, lucky was a matter of opinion. The silver tom wasn't known for his loyalty to his family. He was far more interested in providing his time and efforts to the clan, rather than letting his family be a weak spot for him. Things would have been easier if his family had been claimed by the jungle and left him alone. He wouldn't have anything holding him back then.
[break][break]"Alright, I'll take the lead," He agreed at Rockshade's next words. Clearly the younger tom knew his place - an experienced warrior like himself should be the one making the calls in this situation. Go. Barracudabite took the lead with a few swift steps, gesturing with his long tail for Rockshade to follow. He crept forward with his stomach brushing against the brush, all of his senses alive with adrenaline. He barely dared breathing. The chances of them running into a panther was pretty slim; attacks didn't happen all that often, after all. He couldn't deny the facts, though. The jungle was not owned by them. The jungle was wild and untamed. Dangerous. Ready to claim a life at the first misstep of a paw. He moved forward with his belly to the ground until they were several yards away from where they found the claw marks and into the safety of some vines and thicker foliage. He cast a wary glance around him and paused, eyes searching for Rockshade's. "Wouldn't it be my luck to die looking at your mug?" He mewed, rolling his blue eyes exasperatedly.
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And if I were you ( I wouldn't love me neither )
[attr="class","worldscollidebot3"] written for[break] bombora
[attr="class","worldscollidebot4"]
here is a saucy barracuda reply, hot outta the oven
Rockshade was thoroughly annoyed. He didn't like hunting in the first place, but anything was preferable to keeping his head down for minutes on end. Finally, the two toms managed to hunker down in a collection of roots. The respite was brief, but it did allow Rockshade to shake his legs out at least. The brown tabby's ear flicked as he heard Barracudabite's comment.
"You'd be looking at my tail, if you saw anything at all. You know how it goes."
Instructions were clear. If one of them was attacked then ample time would be given for the other to escape back to camp. If a patrol of less than five warriors encountered a predator that was an order of magnitude stronger than a badger, then retreat was prioritized. Honor had nothing to do with it. There was a difference between accepting sacrifices and suicide. They told kits to go for the eyes of a large cat should they ever suffer the misfortune of being their prey. It was all monkey dung... the illusion of safety. The point was that in a catastrophic emergency young warriors needed some semblance of control so they wouldn't lose their cool. Barracudabite and Rockshade knew better. Still, the tabby privately acknowledged he would never be heartless enough to leave his moronic clanmate to die. He wouldn't even consider it. Rockshade would go for the eyes even if he knew it was pointless. He didn't need to tell the silver fish-face that, though.
"Hold onto your fur, I sense something." Rockshade opened his mouth and turned his head like an owl. He swiveled to his right, closed his maw, and let his eyes contract as the afternoon sun made way for the moon. The slants of the warrior's eyes pierced the foliage of the forest like an eagle's talon. He released a soft breath. Focus heightened his vision and deafened all distractions. He saw two dark shapes tussling with each other under a pile of roots not dissimilar to the camouflage the patrol had just adopted. Rockshade's head rocketed back in disbelief. He had no idea they were that close. The synapses in Rockshade's brain were alight with possibilities. Then, all at once, the flames petered out until there were only two. Rockshade stared at Barracudabite seriously, ready to gauge his reaction.
[break][break]Barracudabite rolled his eyes at the brown tabby tom as he shook his legs out. He was equally as uncomfortable, his long gangly limbs were tucked awkwardly underneath him but instead of shaking them out he sat perfectly still, his body poised to take off running should the need arise. There was more important things going on rather than their comfort. They were on the brink of something that could be fatal, if not handled correctly.
[break][break]The annoyance only grew at the other tom's retort to his original remarks. Barracudabite drew his lips back to show the other tom a snarl, but before he could snap back he saw the other tom's eyes widen. The bluish silver tom followed his gaze to see what Rockshade had seen; two dark shapes tumbling about on the jungle foliage. For a moment he couldn't quite put what he saw together with what he was thinking. Was it really what he thought it was?
[break][break]Living in the jungle came with a fair share of danger, every cat knew this to be a fact. In the early days of JungleClan a Tiger was found in the territory and caused plenty of havoc before it was eventually struck by lightning and killed. While it was quite rare to see the large cats prowling so close to camp, clearly two wayward panther cubs had happened upon their territory one way or another. An icy grip held him frozen for a moment, and he contemplated what the best option was.
[break][break]The single word Rockshade uttered sounded like it came from underwater. Everything spun around for a moment as the other tom confirmed his fears. Those were panther cubs. He looked Rockshade in the eye and saw the same serious look he was sure he held, but even the most seasoned warrior would also harbour some fear. Barracudabite felt fear. Real fear. Taking a slow deep breath, he crept forward every so slightly to get a better look. If they were quiet and careful enough, they should be able to travel the perimeter around the cubs hidden by the foliage of the jungle.
[break][break]"We should move downwind," He mewed, flicking his tail in the direction that he wanted to travel as a silent cue. He began slowly moving, his breath hitched. He channeled all of the stealth skills he possibly possessed to begin the treacherous journey around the radius of which the panther cubs were playing. He send a silent prayer to StarClan and the Gods that they would not stumble across the mother. "Careful." He warned as his paw brushed against a stick. Thankfully, the stick did not break under the light pressure of his weight.
[attr="class","worldscollidebot1"]
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And if I were you ( I wouldn't love me neither )
[attr="class","worldscollidebot3"] written for[break] bombora
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sorry if it's a bit lacklustre, been a long day x__x
"Move no further. I'm thinking," the brown tabby mewed.
Rockshade's tail softly laid upon his paws. The tom stared intensely at the ground, as if he could see straight through the earth. Panthers never came this close to camp. Indeed, it was reasonable to assume the cubs had drifted from their cave while mom was hunting. The closer they were to the little troublemakers, the higher odds of being devoured by their guardian. Barracudabite's first instinct was probably correct. Between the overwhelming fear and adherence to protocol, though, Rockshade saw another path — a chance to upset the natural order. There was a gleam in the tom's bright green eyes.
"Two warriors can kill a newborn cub, right?"
Rockshade half-expected Barracudabite to yowl. In all honesty, the daredevil had no idea what the inherent strength of a panther was. They were a bit shorter than the two of them, though still assuredly carried muscle under their fur. Could they not execute them given enough time? Was it worth it? Rockshade imagined three ghosts ravaging JungleClan in only a few moons. Surely, they would be making a safer forest by at least attempting to destroy them.
"Does the code apply to big cats?" Rockshade shook his head. "I think we should try to take them out."
[break][break]Barracudabite nearly hissed with annoyance when Rockshade started bossing him around. What kind of furball was he to tell him what to do? He bit back the sound, though, knowing that making any additional racket right now would be a stupid move. Instead he was content to just glare at Rockshade with an icy blue gaze. The look in the Rockshade's eyes was enough to tip off Barracudabite to what he was thinking, he didn't even need to hear his next words.
[break][break]"Do you have bees in your brain?" He yowled, a little louder than he maybe had meant to. He blinked furiously for a moment between Rockshade and the panther cub to make sure he hadn't tipped off their location before continuing in a quieter tone. "Even though it is just a cub, it's at least twice the size of one of us!" He mewed, his voice faint but strained with urgency.
[break][break]Surely Rockshade didn't understand the situation they were in. The cub, while young and perhaps quite a lot smaller than an adult panther, was still able to deal a death blow with one swipe of its large black paws. That was a chance that Barracudabite didn't want to take. The striped tabby tom was still going on about killing it, though, much to the dismay of the silver tabby tom.
[break][break]"Even if the warrior code didn't apply to a panther cub, we would be absolutely mad to try and kill it. What if the mother came back to protect it? Even StarClan couldn't save us then. The smartest thing to do would be to sneak further away from camp." He mewed. "Perhaps we could even lure it away with a piece of freshkill? That way it would keep the camp safe. If we went to camp now we would be leading it and potentially the mother right back into our camp for a feast." The tom's stomach did a somersault at that thought.
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And if I were you ( I wouldn't love me neither )
[attr="class","worldscollidebot3"] written for[break] bombora
"It doesn't matter!" Rockshade struggled to contain an exasperated sigh. The tom's ears were pointed and his eyes were wide open. Alert, but calm. Rockshade picked his tongue with his teeth and shook his head. What a headache. He hadn't taken a scenario like this into account. Barracudabite didn't have his back when it came to attacking the cubs, but then what? Soon there would be three panthers in the jungle... and there was only so much island to go around. A clan could take one of them, maybe. Not three.
Rules were rules, though. Although he hated it, Rockshade had to compromise. "We should just let the leaders know and let them figure it out," he mewed with some dejection. He didn't want to let leaders make every single decision for their warriors. "Luring them away won't move their dens location. Besides, there's too much risk. Let's just get out of here." Maybe they could poison some prey, somehow. Or maybe they could have killed one of the cubs. These were hypotheticals. The younger warrior would follow his striped compatriot's instincts on this one.
"Alright, we just need to get down to camp and we're home free." Rockshade shivered. "We're not going to be downwind anymore, though. I say we run for it."
[break][break]Barracudabite could tell that the other tom was annoyed with his decision, but he didn't care. He felt his decision was the right one, and he had no problem letting Rockshade know that, too. He could see the point that the striped brown tom had, but it would be suicidal to take on the cubs - especially if their mother was around. It would be best to take it to the leader and deal with the situation as a whole clan. When Rockshade yielded, Barrcudabite lifted his head up slightly, feeling good that the tom agreed with him even if it was reluctant.
[break][break]The dejected tom echoed his thoughts. The angular head of Barracudabite nodded in agreement. "Yes, this is out of our paws right now." He meowed quietly. He wasn't sure that the den was this close to camp, anyway. Perhaps they just came here to play. The other was right about the risk involved, though. They needed to get out of there - and quickly before the cub's mother came back.
[break][break]Lifting his head up to taste the air, the bluish silver tabby tom frowned. Rockshade was right, the wind would carry their scents right to the cubs if they weren't careful. He locked eyes with the younger tom for a moment, and nodded. "Are you ready? On the count of three..." He hissed. "One... Two... Three... Go!" The tom lurched forward and began streaking as fast as he could towards the direction of camp, throwing his head back to see if his partner in crime was close behind or not.
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And if I were you ( I wouldn't love me neither )
[attr="class","worldscollidebot3"] written for[break] bombora
The two toms pranced and galloped over withering tree roots and fallen leaves. If they were in an open plain they would not live after five strides. The cats' speed, strength, hunting prowess, and instinct were all subpar compared to their distant cousins, but StarClan had at least blessed this island with camouflage aplenty. It was strange, Rockshade thought, that they should call themselves warriors when they spent most of their time hiding. He wished he could roll around as carelessly as those cubs whenever he wanted. Why was everything so difficult for them? Why were they not born to be just as large as those cats? Warriors had organization, faith, bonds, and they still weren't even close to being on top of the food chain on this accursed land.
The brown tom heaved. His head felt light. Rockshade strained to keep his eyes on the white tail in front of him while the rest blurred away. His whiskers blew in the wind, and his ears popped. They ran downhill so fast that one misstep would cause them to tumble. And yet, they went faster. Barracudabite looked over his shoulder once or twice. It annoyed Rockshade like a bug bite. 'Watch where you're going,' he wanted to say, but lacked the breath to do it. Rockshade wouldn't look behind. He feared that if he did and saw a panther then he would give up instantly. No. He had to keep running. A little further... a little further...
Rockshade didn't remember when they got back to camp. He was on his side, aching, hungry, and defeated. The only thing they had to share was information, but information didn't feed kits. Such a drag. They had one job and they couldn't even do that right. Rockshade wondered if his partner felt the same way, but wouldn't ask. They were going to so something about those panthers--one way or another.
