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.
Cedarfang was irritated. That was clear just from the way she walked into camp today. Her pawpads thudded heavily against the forest floor of the camp, her sharp, attentive ears were somewhat down on her head, and her muzzle was slightly open, showing teeth. She was slightly hissing, and glared at anyone who tried to even greet her.
Whatever her problem was, it was clear that she was NOT in a mood to talk with anyone right now. She sat down in a corner of the camp, licking her pawpads clean and wiping them over her ears. She had spent a while hunting, and, while she thought she would succeed, the weather was only getting them to not come out for her.
After rubbing her paws over her ears a few times, she looked up from her spot and glared across the clearing. She thought she saw the fur of Ospreystrike, and if there was anyone in this clan she detested more, it was him. He was a lazy little tom, who tried to cover up his laziness with sweet words the only got Cedarfang angrier at him. She huffed, looking away.
Surely, there was someone else who hated him. For now, she just sat in her corner, claws coming in and out of her paws as she told herself that breaking the code would not be worth it just for a strike or two at him... he was her clanmate, like it or not, and she was not going to injure a clanmate over her own petty feelings.
@sovereign | 259 words | Yes, the assessment of Ospreystrike is In Character for Cedarfang. Time for the girls to complain about him to each other?| creditJELLYFISH PRINCESS
Cranefeather licked her paw and drew it over the tear on her right ear. It stung a little. The medicine cat had told her many times not to clean it too roughly but she could not help it. The blood matted her white fur again and she tasted salt from the wound. She somewhat enjoyed the iron taste of it.
Ospreystrike had done this, of course. The large arrogant tom was exactly why she disliked tom cats so much. They were all up their noses with an ego too big for their own good. Cranefeather should never have bothered to socialize with anyone. That was a mistake, she concluded.
She approached the fresh-kill pile, intending to take a small bite. Maybe a mouse or something. Catching a glimpse of Ospreystrike at the fresh-kill pile as well, she gave an audible hiss and backed away. What a day to be ruined by seeing that wretched tom's face. Deciding she did not want to eat anymore, she stalked back toward the medicine cat's den where she was resting.
As she stalked back toward the den, her injured leg from her fight with Ospreystrike caused her to stumble. She stepped awkwardly and crashed into a grayish pelt. Cedarfang. Oh great, JungleClan had too many cats for its own good.
"Sorry," she huffed and scrambled back onto her feet. Her leg and ear hurt horribly, but Cranefeather was not about to show it. Pain was good, sometimes.
What a wonderful addition to her day. Alongside seeing that good-for-nothing pelt of that good-for-nothing cat, some other cat didn't know where she was going and tripped right into her.
"Watch where you're going, kit," Her ears flattened against her head as she spat her words out, mouth opening to show her sharp teeth. Her green eyes narrowed at recognizing the somewhat wounded, white-furred cat in front of her- Cranefeather.
Cedarfang was not one to take back her words, not at all. She had seen Cranefeather go in and out of the medicine cat den, due to some injury from a fight. Cedarfang did not find Cranefeather to be in a good light- more of a neutral view.
That didn't keep Cedarfang from being annoyed. "When do you think you'll be well enough to hunt?" She hissed, letting her claws curl into the ground in front of her. This time, however, she kept them out. Take it as a warning, dear Cranefeather. "This clan needs hunters, and you're sitting in the medicine den for wounds that aren't bad." Cedarfang huffed. "Pathetic."
"Even if I were well I would have no intention of hunting for cats like you," Cranefeather hissed under her breath and slide her own claws out. She was much grumpier than usual due to her injuries and the tomcat that had injured her. Despite being injured, she would never back down from a challenge. Her pride and dignity simply did not allow it. Probably also why she had gotten so scrapped up by Ospreystrike.
"Not like you're hunting right now," she meowed indignantly. Cranefeather was also known to avoid her duties anyone, it was nothing new to her. The Clan was doing fine, not that she cared. She was unsure why Cedarfang was being so uptight. "Since you're bored enough to socialize with me," she spat the words out ironically, "why don't you go have a fling with Ospreystrike? I saw you staring at that lump of cow dung."
Cranefeather almost gave a small laugh of amusement at the thought of Cedarfang and Ospreystrike's fallout. Surely that would be a fight for the ages. She didn't think the she-cat was a match for the large and muscular older tom anymore than she was. But alas, the more beatings Ospreystrike got, the better. Some toms just had to be taught she-cats weren't to be messed with.
Cedarfang's muzzle twisted as her eyesight shot down to Cranefeather's claws, then back up to the other she-cat's face. Whatever the other she-cat had said, Cedarfang was going to bet it wasn't pretty. Excuses, excuses. This clan was getting worse and worse, it seemed. If Cranefeather wanted a fight, Cedarfang would be glad to sink her teeth in and make sure she stayed in the den instead of walking in and out constantly. For now, Cedarfang would just be on guard.
When Cranefeather pointed out she wasn't hunting, Cedarfang hissed. She had been unsuccessful, and her hunting partner had practically begged her to take a break. If it weren't for Cedarfang's earlier weakness in legs due to constantly jumping and crouching, she would've continued, but she was here. Talking with one of her lesser liked clanmates.
A fling. With Ospreystrike. The sheer thought of that made Cedarfang chuckle a bit, her ears flattening against her head.
"I would rather claw the fur off his head than mate with him," she hissed, "But I will not make a scene in camp. If I wanted to fight, I would take it outside and let the blood hit the place not with kits infesting it." Protect the kits. That was in the code, and that was one thing she would agree with.
She ran a claw through the dirt. "Why don't you go fight him? Make your opinion even more heard by that... tom."
Kits. Cranefeather purred. How strange for such a grumpy, jaded cat like Cedarfang to care about kits. What was it so bad about kits seeing blood anyway? They'd have to eventually. She had loved blood even at that age.
"Don't worry, I already did fight him. Where do you think I got this?" Cranefeather flicked her one torn ear and lamented back loudly, as if Ospreystrike could hear. Even though she had lost, Cranefeather was sure she gave Ospreystrike a good beating as he deserved.
"Maybe it's your turn," she purred in fake friendliness. As she continued, her tone became more and more poisonous. "Unless, of course, you're scared...? Or you actually have a thing for him...? Or perhaps your fighting is just as moot as your hunting..."
She was not sure what it was today that made her so eager to provoke Cedarfang. She was certainly not up for another fight after her recent one with Ospreystrike. She was not even normally the cat to casually talk to her Clanmates. Maybe it was the heat or the dull boredom of being confined to the camp. Today she just had to get under someone's nerve. Cranefeather glanced at Cedarfang's expression. The gray she-cat was angry. Cranefeather enjoyed making other cats angry.
Cranefeather got her wounds from fighting Ospreystrike. Considering the state she was in, she did a horrible job of it. The other she-cat had wounds, and Ospreystrike, while wounded, still seemed to be up and around. Not that Cedarfang really wanted to care about that tom. The other she-cat flicked her ear, and Cedarfang flicked both of hers in return, eyes narrowing.
When Cranefeather's next words sounded friendly, the grey-brown she-cat kept her eyes narrowed. Her turn to fight did sound good, but she wasn't going to just stomp up and demand a fight. Not when he seemed to charm so many cats. It made her gag. However, worse than suggesting that she go up and fight him was insulting her skills.
She was named Cedarfang. Her teeth were her most useful weapons- she had bitten many in fights before, and her hunting tore out the throats of many mice before they knew what was coming for them. She was named for her fighting. She was not a coward.
Her fur bristled. Her eyes narrowed deeper. She got to her paws, slowly, but surely. "Did you forget my name?" She hissed. "I was named Cedarfang before you were even made an apprentice."
Her eyes flashed in an idea. "Do you wish to find out my fighting skills yourself?"
@sovereign | 218 words | the girls gonna fight? | creditJELLYFISH PRINCESS
