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.
If a cat could blush, well, Kraiteye would probably be beet red. It was bad enough to nearly faceplant in front of your crush- not that Taropetal was his crush, of course not- but to be the one who had sort of taken the lead. Well it was embarassing! But Kraiteye had never been one to be in touch with his emotions, preferring to bottle them up, to exist like the eye of the storm. If the eye of the storm was tangle-footed enough to trip over some roots like a mouse-brain.
Both of the she-cats turned their eye on him. Upon hearing Taropetal's voice, Kraiteye swallowed, whipping his head to stare at Coralfrost instead. The younger she-cat was safer, much safer to concentrate on. "Yes, yes. We should go deeper into the jungle. Although, I do believe that the territory does follow the river, at least for a little while longer."
Kraiteye hated to disagree with Taropetal. It was bad enough, existing and knowing she was displeased with him. She always had an... intensity to her. It could make you feel important, or well, miniscule. It made him feel sick, as if he had eaten a spoiled meal.
"I am fine. Thank you for your concern, Coralfrost," he mewed, his voice softening a bit as he lost some of the edge that came with being embarrassed. Of course, it was still in his Kraiteye tone, which tended to be even, but the tom knew Coralfrost didn't agree to any of this, to the awkwardness or the fighting. She needed someone to be a good example. Kraiteye couldn't help the shift in him, almost fatherly, depending on who was watching. It was in the very least friendly. Or friendlier.
tag: Rosa , diesel ooc: please be kind to my awkward boy
Kraiteye accepted the fish that the young tom had caught, carefully holding it in his teeth so as not to lose it. And, of course, the mentor was feeling pleased that Tunapaw had found his crab imitation entertaining. Kraiteye never really knew how to deal with cats his age. He didn't want to treat him like a kit, and well, fledglings this age were so unlike Kraiteye, a fourty moon fighter. Tunapaw could easily be Kraiteye's son if... well if thing had been different.
But Kraiteye didn't have the luxury of moping about. He had a job to do. When Tunapaw asked about the sea, Kraiteye turned his owlish eyes on his apprentice. "Never, never brave the sea during the time of Shrieking Storms. Right now you see the waves. They are mostly dark, yes? During the time of Shrieking Storms, when the winds shifts and the gods grow angry, the water begins to foam like an angry animal. The wind drives water off of the sea that is as sharp as cat's claws. And the waves themselves can swallow a cat whole." Of course, the dark, ominous words were cut by the fact he had a fish in his mouth, which caused him to lisp even as he mewed. But really, the danger of water couldn't be drilled into the young tom enough, in Kraiteye's opinion. Just the thought of it brought up the fresh hurt of his mother's death.
But it was also not time to think of that. It was time to think of his fledging and all his potential. Tunapaw pointed out a similar fish and Kraiteye nodded, padding forward to inspect the pool. It was deeper, easy enough for a cat his size with his reach, but his apprentice's inexperience and smaller limbs would cause an issue. He would have to wait for it to come near the surface.
"Here, we shall work as a team. I shall scare the fish with my shadow. When it comes swimming towards the edge, you'll need to strike, alright? I will go on the count of three? One.. Two.. Three." With that, Kraiteye leaned over the pool, dipping his paw in to gently splash the water, spooking the fish towards Tunapaw.
tag: @sovereign note: how about we end it after another round of posts ouo ?
Kraiteye nodded solemnly at his apprentice. "Yes, especially the big ones. And they are fast. But they are important prey, so you will learn how to tackle them soon enough. The soft flesh is particularily good for kits." In his mind, Kraiteye filed away that for another day, probably when the tom was nearing 9 or 10 moons, when he had gotten large and strong enough to help grapple with the surprising speed and strength of the largest crabs.
The older tom was attentive when his apprentice asked him if crabs swum. "They can. They move sideways, like this," Kraiteye mewed as he sidestepped along the pools, landing one of his paws in a small puddle of water. The look on his face was probably the closest that the tom, with his tendency for stoicism, could get. Still, the moment was fleeting, and soon Kraiteye was shaking the water.
When his fledgling mentioned the tide coming in, and the prospect of catching one more fish, Kraiteye turned his head, assessing the ebb and flow of water with the experience of a feline who had lived and prospered on the beach for his entire life. He was a cat of Tidalclan after-all. "Hm.. we should have enough time to catch one more. The tide can come in suddenly, especially during the Time of Shrieking Storms, but there is nothing to worry about if you remain attentive to the elements." The tom paused again, before he turned back to look at his apprentice. "I'll take a hold of your first fish to make sure it doesn't go off to sea."
The last thing they needed was for Tunapaw to walk into camp empty pawed because of a fledging mistake on Kraiteye's part. He wanted his fledgling to be proud, excited when he walked into camp. tag: @sovereign note: sorry for the delay!
Coaticreek is handsome. Some would even say pretty, although his body is just a touch on the blocky side, taking away from the natural grace of his movements. Even then his features tend to be slightly rounded, this feline possessing no incredibly sharp angles. Some may even get the impression that he is delicate, a fact only exasperated by the soft brown and silvery notes of his short, dense fur. The darkest parts of the tom are a line of tabby that starts on his face and moves along his spine where it ends in a dark striped tail. The rest of his body is cream, which melts into a nearly prestine white along his chin and belly. However, even that fur is bisected in places by a smattering of thin, minor scars which tell a story, same as the others of his clan, of living in a dangerous and dense wilds.
His face is the most masculine feature, with a slightly long and narrow maw marked by long white whiskers. His face is one of the places where the earth tones darken, most notably into a stripe that marks the bridge of his snout. Centered in the darkened marks are two blue, intelligent eyes, which, while not wide, do tend to be striking. Most of the time they hold a playful, if guarded look. As well as his pawpads, his nose is a pale pink.
Personality
Positive Traits: • laid back • charming • intelligent
Coaticreek has worked hard for all of his short life to cultivate the image that he is relaxed, laid-back, unruffled, and unworried. Sure, that means that some cats of the clan see him as lazy, but he is more than willing to go on a patrol or try his paw at hunting. He just doesn't over-achieve or over-exert himself. Ever. He doesn't volunteer. He won't spend the hottest hours of the day scouring the jungle. And why would he? As far as Coaticreek is concerned there is no need to go above and beyond, an attitude that betrays his inexperience and immaturity. He simply hasn't lived through a great enough disaster to teach him the value of hardwork.
Despite his attitude, generally Coaticreek is well-liked. The tom is charming, partially because of his handsome face and partially because of his ability to be agreeable. He doesn't want to ruffle fur. He doesn't start fights. He can almost be infuriating with how placating he can be. He likes getting along with others as long as it is a good time to be around them. In general, this also means flirting, something that he does often and casually, paying compliments to anyone and everyone. However, Coaticreek is not a romantic, seeking out the perfect mate. And he doesn't particularily care if he hurts someone with his flirting or actions, just as long as they don't give him too much trouble. This makes him arrogant and more than a little self-centered.
Coaticreek has always been prone to putting himself first. In general, he does what he wants when he wants with little regard for others. As he grows older, and the realities of life start settling into the tom, he may begin to realize the weight of consequences. However, at the moment he is mostly spoiled, and he makes the deliberate choice to be self-centered as a way tor rebel against his father.
Perhaps the tragedy of Coaticreek is his potential, a potential that he puposefully squanders. He could excel as a warrior for his clan. He is intelligent and charming enough to be a good leader. But he is too busy rebelling against his father and chasing his impulses to properly apply himself.
For the longest that anyone in Jungleclan could remember, Monkeyclaw and Sedgeback hated eachother. Even when the two were apprentices together they constantly fought and squabbled. She was too loud. He was too stuck up. Over the years it became a comedy of source, to watch the level of ridiculousness they would go to to one up eachotther. However, things changed one day when the two warriors were out on patrol and encountered a young crocodile. After the close encounter, in which they were forced to work together, their opinions changed. She was an intelligent strategist. He threw himself in front of the danger to protect her. They fell in love, even if their squabbles and bickering continued.
A few moons later Monkeyclaw grew pregnant, eventually giving birth to two small kits, Coatikit and Tayrakit. Of course, the two disagreed on how best to raise them, as they often disagreed on everything. Monkeyclaw coddled them, hovering when they played with older kits and fretting constantly at even the hint of a sniffle. Sedgeback wanted the kits to be tough, to grow into formidable warriors, especially his son. While the pair tried to keep their disagreements outside of their kits hearing, well it was obvious to the young tom and she-cat, as it was to the rest of the clan, that the pair were fighting. The two kits, under the pressure, grew close together. His sister, Tayrakit was clearly on the side of her father. She was the braver of the two. The most outspoken. Coatikit? Well he was happy with what happened when he played both sides. He learned that it is easiest to just tell a cat what they want to hear. He didn't like the pressure that either of his parents put on him, so he simply avoided steering to heavily to one side.
Things shifted and changed when the two became apprentices. Sedgeback, determined to turn his son into a warrior rivalling himself, convinced Toucanstar to let him mentor Coatipaw. When the decision was revealed, Coatipaw was annoyed, but Tayrapaw, who always envisioned herself the favorite of their father (after-all, she always listened to him) felt betrayed. His sister refused to speak to him, instead turning inward on herself.
Coatipaw felt annoyed, but didn't bother fighting her on it. After-all, it wasn't like he wanted to listen to their father's nagging all day everyday, and their mother asking him questions, fishing for a reason to be angry with their father. Yet Coatipaw, ever the one to play the role of the laid-back, relaxed, untroubled tom simply let the stress slide off his pelt. He completed his apprentice duties, but never to his fullest. He did everything just good enough, infuriating his father, who berated him. Sedgeback knew his son had potential. Just look at the two cats he came from! He was naturally intelligent, athletic. Coatipaw was squandering all of the potential he had. Except the more his father told him he wouldn't amount to anything as a warrior, the more Coatipaw dug his heels in, sought ways to anger him more. He learned to encourage seniors to tell long rambling stories so he could avoid training. He started flirting with anyone his age, not caring if doing so hurt their feelings. When the time came for his assessment, he did just well enough to pass, much to his father's anger. He was named Coaticreek, due to his laidback personality and swimming ability. Even the name seemed to frustrate his father, who had hoped Coaticreek could have become something that denoted more strength, more ferocity like strike or bite. The night of his warrior ceremony was the biggest fight he ever had with his father, or at least, the most his father had screamed at him like Coaticreek sat, nonplussed, watching the tom become more and more frustrated. His sister also passed her warrior's assessment, gaining the name Tayrafire. However, Tayrafire didn't even bother to congratulate Coaticreek. Monkeyclaw meanwhile was overjoyed that her children had both succeeded, but had become more protective over both Coaticreek and Tayrafire. In order to keep the peace in the family, Coaticreek chose not to let her know the in and outs of the way Sedgeback spoke to him. Instead, he chose to stuck with his normal, petty complaints, which tended to be enough to fire up the she-cat anyways.
Now that Coaticreek has become a young warrior he wants nothing more than to relax away from his father's influence. Rather than throwing himself into his warrior duties, the tom has spent most of his time leisuring around camp and chattering with anyone who will give him more than a few minutes. And well, it doesn't seem like that is going to change any time soon.
The air felt heavy. From the tree tops and off of the river that twined its way between Jungleclan and Tidalclan territory, a steamy mist hung in the air, partially obscuring the sky and softening the details of the picteresque island. The air was also heavy with something else. Of course, Kraiteye knew it was a possibility that he would be placed on patrol with Taropetal, but well, he usually volunteered before that could happen. Or Eelpool or Barnacleleap were present to keep her company, chattering away while Kraiteye moved awkwardly in front or behind them.
Except Sharksong had saw fit to create this... particular combination for an early morning border patrol. And well, the black and white tom couldn't find any reasonable excuse not to.
So Kraiteye padded, trying to focus on anything else but the childhood friend who walked just a few tail lengths from him. The grass on is paws. The sound of the water as they wound themselves along the river. He was even tempted to start a conversation with Coralfrost, just to have something to break the silence, something that wasn't the nervous energy crawling up his spine and settling, like a tick in his brain.
He was so focused on appearing to be nonchalant, leaning into his own natural stoicism and penchant for long drawn on pauses, that he wasn't doing a particularily good job of focusing on actually patrolling the border. He could barely pay attention to the own movement of his body, so it was inevitably, really, that one of his paws got tangled up in some of the dense jungle brush, sending the tom tripping and scrambling to regain his dignity, only narrowly avoiding planting his face straight into the dirt.
"Oh! Um. Uh, sorry there. Let's keep a move on, shall we?" He said, his voice colored with embarassment but somehow, impressively, managing to keep a relatively even tone. Perhaps an infuriatingly even tone.
tag: Rosa, diesel ooc: please be kind to my awkward boy
When she turned to face him fully, she met his eyes and for a moment she simply stared into the bright blue, which seemed to glow even in the darkness of the shaded camp. While her words dripped with sarcasm, even a measure of humor, her eyes were still a dull, dark green, the humor, or whatever she had attempted when she spoke, not quite reaching them. They betrayed only a wall. A protective barrier, like a turtle having retreated into its shell.
"You appreciate my spirit?" She huffed. Her spirit. Barracudabite talked amost as if he knew her. But she supposed perhaps that was what her clanmates saw in her. An indomitable force. A survivor. Mantisclaw wanted to be that. She wanted to be someone who was strong, unbreakable and unbending, like the tallest tree in the jungle under the mightiest storm. But even trees fell. Branches were tossed too hard in the breeze and broke.
When his words turned serious, Mantisclaw retracted into herself a little more, her body language growing more guarded as she turned her face away. This was why she didn't like speaking to her clanmates. They were prying. "Why do you care? Do you need a fun tidbit of conversation for when you share tongues tomorrow?"
Mantisclaw couldn't help but remember her time as a kit, how it felt to have every eye on her. How hurt Dapplesplash had been when her involvement was questioned, when the kits were given up to a new queen. The talk. Tarantulahop claimed that no one cared about them as much as she thought they did, that she was just being paranoid, that it was okay to make friends and open up.
The truth was, Mantisclaw didn't care to trust. She didn't care to trust this tom. He was arrogant. Yes, surely that was it. He surely didn't care about what had happened, about the nightmares that plaguede her nights, about the way even rain set her on edge. He just thought he was owed her story. That's all.
As they walked along the pools, Kraiteye's steps measured, graceful almost in the way he manuevered the potentially slippery surfaces and the ever shifting sands and pebbles, his apprentice spotted a crab. Kraiteye turned. Well, that was rather unexpected. But it was a learning opportunity, even if the young tom was much too inexperienced to take on a creature of that size.
Kraiteye paused, turning his wide eyes on Tunapaw. "To kill a crab you must flip it over and delivery a killing blow to the underside of its head. It takes a lot of skill and usually two cats must do it for a creature of this size. Unfortunately, I think it would do you better to revisit crab catching when we've gone over your fighting skills. They use their claws to crush, not to cut as we do. Turtlehop would not be pleased if I sent you back to camp with a broken paw."
The tom paused again though, knowing that he must be careful with his words. He didn't want to incite the young feline into acting rashly later by providing him with a challenge. Even Kraiteye knew how young, eager toms could be. "Perhaps we can find a smaller crab for you to try your paw at. You should be able to handle one about the size of a young rat. Their shells are softer as well, easier for you to crush."
The black and white tom was pleased. It seemed that his apprentice was finally starting to be interested, to be invested in his learning. This was why Kraiteye didn't lecture him. He wanted to cultivate questions and curiosities. Things that not even he, an experienced hunter, might think of to consider. Because when the smaller tom pulled himself, dripping out of the water, there was a question at the tip of his tongue.
There was a beat of silence before the mentor spoke. "Fish are slipperiest when they are in water. If you attempt to knock them onto land, you may not have a grip on them, but you will buy yourself a few seconds to pounce and finish them off."
As they padded among the pools, trying to find another piece of prey for the apprentice to try his paw at, they came upon the small, darting yellow shape of an angelfish. Kraiteye listened, perhaps a little unnervingly attentive, as was his tendency. "A fish this small should only be considered when prey is scarce. When the sand and the waters get hotter. Or the storms drive most other fish away. Then you may consider bringing such small prey home. But for now, its better to let it grow and get fatter so that you may catch it later," Kraiteye mewed, continuing to pad along the rugged outcropping of stone.
There had to be another piece of prey Tunapaw could attempt to catch somewhere in the pools.
Although Mantisclaw's face was turned away, her ears flicked, turned to catch every word that the tom murmured. Of course his reaction was to cop an attitude with her. As if she was somehow inconveniencing him. As if she was ruining his night. What did he expect? For her to bat her eyelashes and mew about how thankful she was he took an interest in her? No, not after the night she had.
"Oh thank the stars," Mantisclaw mewed, turning her face a few hairs towards him, to allow him to see the way that her green eyes rolled while the words dripped from her lips. "Here I was, afraid you were going to talk about feelings." Perhaps it was because it was a strange night, but Mantisclaw found herself bolder, more talkative than usual.
If it wasn't one of those nights, one of the nights when she was so completely unmoored from herself, as if a cat had battered her about the head, she probably would have ignored the silver tom, just glowered at him. But it felt good, to unleash some of the pain, the turmoil, the darkness in side of her onto the first cat who bothered to talk to her.
When he began to step away, Mantisclaw turned her head fully to watch him. "Oh? Well don't strain yourself. Wouldn't want to you to have to go to Anispine complaining how you pulled a muscle with all this self-sacrificing."
Ever since Lianaheart was a kit she had a whole life envisioned for herself. She would be a beautiful doting mother, like her mother, and the mate to a handsome, dashing tom, like her father. She would have a large, boisterous family. She chattered about it, constantly, much to her mother's amusement. Laurelkit thought her sister was foolish, and called her such. Laurelkit always tried to get Lianakit to focus more on games, on playing pretend that they were fighters defending the clan from monsters.
It was during this kithood that Lianakit first began showing signs of a mysterious disease that left her in a trance-like state. One moment she would be up, toddling around, and the next she would be in a hazy dream state, her body completely limp as dream images became interposed over the real world. Sometimes it almost seemed like the dream images were attempting to communicate with her, but Lianakit ignored them, keeping them secret from her parents and her sister.
Things had to go to plan. Despite initial misgivings and a fair bit of confusion on behalf of the healer, Lianakit became Lianapaw to a patient and experienced warrior. As she grew older her conditioned seemed to improve. While it sometimes led to troubling situations, such as losing control of herself while training, it was never much of a hindrance, nearly fading completely by the time she reached her 12th moon.
Other Notes
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The sudden appearance of the two toms annoyed her, driving her to make silly mistakes, such as failing to notice that she had somehow fallen in line behind Ravenfire. Now, too busy trying to shake the annoyance out from beneath her skin by picking up a stray rustle or a warm scent that would mean prey, she didn't even notice, until it was too late, that she had basically snuck up behind the tom, who whirled around on her.
"I wasn't!" Mantisclaw hissed, her green eyes narrowed and the brown fur along her shoulders prickling at the male's sudden outburst. "I didn't even know you went this way."
The she-cat's tail lashed. And then there was the tell tale rustling of leaves, a disturbance that only meant... Mantisclaw turned her head to see Nightscreech. What had she done to anger the Gods? Why did they keep placing these mouse-brained toms in her way when all she wanted to do was spend her afternoon hunting, alone, providing her clan with enough prey to keep them from bothering her?
Instead, she just kept running into her clanmates in what were incredible odds considering the vastness of the jungle. Burying her claws in the earth, the she-cat turned to walk away. "Good-bye," she said with finality, before adding under her breath, "and good riddance."
As the cool, earthy air filled her lungs, slowly, Mantisclaw's breathing began to even out. As she came down from her adrenaline high she could feel her limbs grow heavy, her body exhausted. In any case, the normally hyper-aware feline failed to notice the tom, too busy calming herself down with attempts to focus on the real, the concrete and expected around her that differed from her dream state.
Her ears flicked when his voice hit her, her body reacting instinctively. Her ears flattened against her skull. The fur on her back prickled. She hissed in surprise, fangs bared before the Jungleclan scent hit her nose and she reluctantly relaxed back into the dirt, her body language guarded.
How much had he seen? How much of her weakness? Embarrassed, Mantisclaw thrashed her tail and pointedly turned her face away. "What d'you want?" She growled, peeking at the tom from the corner of her green eyes. She didn't care for niceties, and at this point she didn't want to give him even more of an excuse to remember her. Mantisclaw liked to be that unknown face at the edge of the crowd. Thank the stars she was born with a plain brown pelt.
Even so, the she-cat recognized the tom. Barracudabite. A good warrior, if not aloof. He wasn't a part of her brother's circle anyway, which was the only element about this conversation that was bearable. It was hard not to recognize a cat with such distinctive features, from his pointed angular face to his eyes like clear pools of water, although she could barely make out the color now in the darkness of the night.
"Its better for you to learn for yourself," the black and white tom spoke, smiling lightly at his apprentice's surprised expression. Of course the expectation was that Kraiteye would give some long lecture on the technique. But well, he didn't really think his apprentice would pay attention to the whole thing, or he would ingest the words and get overwhelmed.
Instead, Tunapaw hovered over the pools, splashing around, gracelessly, until the fish came flipping up out of the water in an attempt to escape the predator. The young tom hooked it, before turning to show it proudly to his mentor.
"Very good!" Kraiteye said warmly. "I knew you could do it. You're a tidalclan cat after all."
"Now make sure you give it a killing bite, on the back, just above the dorsal fin. The last thing you want is it to flop away once you've put it down." This was a lesson that a young Kraiteye had to learn the hard way, and he distinctly remembered his old mentor, Bubblestripe, chewing him out for the simple mistake.
"Alright, lets try again. There should be more prey in these pools. When you find it, make sure you position yourself towards the sun, so that your shadow falls behind you. Keep your back straight, as well, you don't need to throw your whole body into it. Just your paw is enough." Kraiteye instructed, before pausing and turning his round, attentive eyes back onto the younger tom. "Do you have any questions?"
tag: @sovereign note: first training thread! some hunting!
On good nights, Matisclaw's dreams existed in a flash of inky black, devoid of light or substance that quickly led to bright morning light and the annoying shifting of her clanmates around her. On bad nights, she dreamed and rarely slept. Tonight was a bad night. In the depths of her mind, the she-cat walked along the dense jungle floor, a thin brown figure weaving her way gracefully through the thick undergrowth until the damp forest floor began to thicken, trapping her paws in a mire-like quicksand. And when her feet felt heavy, grasped in an unforgiving grip by the sucking mud, she could feel the dampness tingle along her fur, building with the thrum of her heartbeat as she fought, desperately, to free herself from what she knew was coming.
In her dream, she could smell the water. Stagnant. Sour. Like a foul breath. In the dream, she could feel it as it began bubbling up from the mud, roiling around her legs as it climbed. As it wet the fur on her belly. Then her sides. Then it covered her back completely. Mantisclaw raised her head, panting now into the air, eyes wide as she felt herself, held down.
She knew what was coming next. She always knew. But she couldn't stop the animal panic now. Couldn't stop the adrenaline in her veins. Couldn't stop the water flowing first into her mouth, metallic like blood, and then into her nose and her ears. Until she was submerged. Until she choked on it.
Mantisclaw woke in the middle of the night, on the cool outskirts of one of the warrior's dens with her side heaving, her limbs sprawled where she must have been kicking in her sleep. The panic still filled her veins, pumped in her blood, flooded her heart and her brain with the desire to breath air. So she stood, still shaky, and stumbled her way out to to the clearing. Mantisclaw collapsed into a tucked away corner, green eyes trained at the canopy of leaves. Beyond them was the great night sky. And stars. Slowly, the sounds of the jungle returned to her ears. The constant calling of insects and nocturnal animals, the gentle rustling of leaves. The she-cat breathed in slowly, tasting the familiar Jungleclan musk on her tongue.
I am alive, she reminded herself as she dug her claws into the earth. I am here.
tag: @artemis ooc: hope you don't mind an angsty lil set-up :'D
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Oct 14, 2019 15:47:24 GMT -5
Jori: Hi Guest! The Kingdom is in the works, auditions for high rank cats just ended