Mama Oak
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Have you come to make me a martyr?
You are my love, my angle, don't treat me like potato.
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Post by Mama Oak on Jul 7, 2013 14:24:41 GMT -5
elmstar of thunderclan ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ N O T x F A R x F R O M x S I N I S T E R , x A x C H A R M I N G x T O M , W H O x W A S x C A P A B L E x O F x B E I N G x T E R R I B L E
The dimming, golden light of sundown filtered through the thick tangle of trees and foliage; painting the HomeTree with a dark, almost carmine hue. To a cat of another clan, the auburn glow could possibly seem rather sinister and, perhaps, would even inspire uneasiness. To them it would be the color of daylight, choked and darkened by the jungle but, to the members of ThunderClan, it was the familiar and simple approach of another hot, tropical night.
A thin, brown tabby stood in the entrance of his personal tree-hollow, his intelligent, olive-green eyes reaching out from the dutiful perch and observing the activity of his clan. Sundown was a time of usual serenity; a period when all of ThunderClan seemed to take a deep, relaxing inhale as the sun succumbed to its daily exile — it was Elmstar's favorite part of the day to take inventory of his clanmates. Upon one of the many thick branches that radiated and stretched away from his den, a pair of apprentices were quietly chatting, bodies weary from their long morning of training. His eyes lingered upon them as one laughed softly and took a bite from the large, plump squirrel they were sharing. Elmstar made a quick, mental note to ask about their progression the next time he was in the company of their mentors. Maybe he would even make it a point to show up at one of their next sessions. Moons had passed since he had assigned them mentors and they still had moons to go before he would have to award them their warrior names; he was eager to assess how far they had come and also their potential.
On a parallel branch another pair of felines were curled together, sharing tongues. Elmstar had approached the two warirors earlier and asked them to accompany him on the sundown border patrol that he, himself, was scheduled to lead. With the light of day ever-fading, he knew his clanmates were likely only awaiting for him to step from his den and signal their departure. In fact, a green gaze flitted toward and met his own — they were observing him just as he was observing them; anticipating his move.
But something needed done first, and Elmstar's gaze shifted as the hunting patrol he was waiting to return made their appearance; jaws full of prey, which they swiftly deposited on the fresh-kill store. There, now all cats were in camp, save the select few who may have slipped away on a solo hunt. The majority was present and Elmstar's gaze searched camp for the two other felines he needed to begin; assuring they were, in fact, around and not called away. Finding them, Elmstar nodded to himself. When he located the able-bodied frame of Quailfoot, he was not surprised to find the deputy's umber-colored eyes, gazing knowingly back at him. For a long moment they only stared at each other, sharing a conversation that required no words. When he blinked and the moment passed, Elmstar nodded once then turned.
The slender tom made quick work of the familiar climb to the thick, oddly-gnarled branch above his den. The high perch was twisted in an unnatural, almost-ornate way, and elevated over all the dens and thick, flat expanses where most cats relaxed and gathered. After turning a tight circle, Elmstar settled back on his haunches with the tall and regal posture that was characteristic of his disposition. As he straightened, he became curiously conscious of two things simultanously. One, the squealing of kittens, play-fighting outside their nursery and two, the subtle protest of his muscles from the quick and spirited ascent. He'd made the same climb a hundred times throughout his nine lives but now, the leader's body was beginning to acknowledge the wear of his many, many seasons.
His shimmering green orbs made one last sweep around him before his maw parted and a strong, confident voice carried throughout HomeTree. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the TwistedBough for a Clan meeting!" Already Quailfoot had climbed up to the long, broad branch that was directly beneath Elmstar's, where the honorary felines seated themselves. Where a litter of excited kits would try not to bounce with glee as they became apprentices. Where apprentices would stand tall and proud as they were awarded their full name. And now, it was where the deputy comfortably poised himself, ready for his own retirement to unfurl.
Together the two toms waited as the clan gathered beneath them. ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Words: 755 Tagged: Flowerfur/Storm + any/all of ThunderClan! Post Scriptum: This ceremony is the retiring of Quailfoot (ThunderClan's current NPC deputy) and the naming of his replacement! If you have a ThunderClan cat that needs some other ceremony, please PM me and I'll add it to this thread! I've started the ceremony and will wait a few days or so before continuing it — giving ample time for any roleplayer to request a ceremony and get their replies to this!
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Petrichor
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Heart of FourClans (Moderator)
I try my best to keep the site's blood pumping.
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Post by Petrichor on Jul 9, 2013 18:47:09 GMT -5
It was sundown, and the dying light warmed Flowerfur's back as she sat in the light, casting a shadow over the kits she was speaking to. They were all sitting enraptured up at her as she told a story. After all, that one (successful) raid on WindClan was one of the famous battles she had been in. ThunderClan cats surrounded with no trees in a plain field, with WindClan cats all over. The kits never got tired of it. She barely noticed as the hunting patrol stepped around her, dropping prey on the pile from both sides as if she was a fork in the river.
"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Twistedbough!" Flowerfur stood up as the kits she was speaking to rushed over. Really, there was no point in saying the whole "catch their own prey" thing. If the kits wanted to hear, well, they would hear. The brown tabby warrioress stepped forward, sitting near the back of the crowd as Elmstar addressed ThunderClan. She knew what the whole ceremony was about, but she was curious as to how the other cats would react to the announcement of Quailfoot's retirement.
And, of course, her being... Ugh. Flowerfur still wasn't used to the idea. She sat silent and still, her eyes meeting Elmstar's for a brief moment before the whole thing began. The investigation would continue, but now was not the time for scrutiny. |
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Mama Oak
Site Staff
Have you come to make me a martyr?
You are my love, my angle, don't treat me like potato.
Posts: 840
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Post by Mama Oak on Sept 1, 2013 1:00:02 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=151010]Elmstar was unmoving upon the Twisted Bough, his thin body — only a shadow of the strength he had once possessed — straight and still. The only thing that moved were his dull, champagne-colored eyes, which swept calmly across the camp as cats emerged and gathered beneath his call. His gaze settled upon them all, sparing each individual a moment of thought and consideration; taking the strength, heart, and soul of ThunderClan into account. Every cat significant and important.
When the clan had gathered and was getting settled, his gaze fell lastly upon an old, wizened elder at the edge of the crowd. Leafcloud’s dilute pelt of patched gray and ginger was just as speckled with white as his; the fur dull and strung across atrophied and weakened muscles. They were of a same age and yet here he stood and there she was, as always. For a moment, the ThunderClan leader considered their relationship. He had never been her true mate; only the father to her kittens. And even when they had been apprentices, she had always been wise enough to accept that — never had she asked anything more from him. But she had accepted him, given him sons and daughters, and been there always with kind eyes and an unspoken understanding. She was a special feline and Elmstar realized, in that single moment that his olive-green gaze found her own, that he was grateful for her. Perhaps, if it was him in Quailfoot’s place, he would spend the rest of his numbered moons beside her. Maybe then he would give her the love and affection that she had never demanded of him but always wanted and deserved.
But Elmstar had always been a leader before a mate. And he was not in Quailfoot’s place.
The moment passed and his pale green eyes shifted smoothly from Leafcloud and across the camp one last time before beginning. ”Today ThunderClan sees one of her most dedicated and dependable members to the honor of a requested retirement.” The tall tom paused and blinked slowly, letting his words die from the air before his strong, carrying voice continued with quiet control from his peppered muzzle. ”Quailfoot,” dropping his chin the slightest bit to gaze down as the massive, grizzled tabby stepped forward, Elmstar felt a quick pang of regret. He didn’t doubt that Flowerfur would make just as great of a deputy, and Quailfoot would only be in the elders den after all, but the ThunderClan leader couldn’t ignore the strong feeling of loss pulling tightly at his chest. Quailfoot was one of his oldest friends and — if Elmstar had lost three lives instead of two the previous leafbare — would have led his clan with not only undoubted success... but also a certain compassion that he himself had always been unable to. ”Is it your wish to give up the name of warrior and join the elders?”
Instead of looking out across the gathered cats and saying the words with unflinching resolution, Quailfoot lifted his head and smiled at him. ”It is,” was the response, rippling with the strength and heart of, not an old, weary warrior on its last stretch, but an apprentice hearing its warrior name for the first time. Elmstar found a smile threatening to pull at his muzzle and could detect similar sentiment from the warriors, apprentices, queens, elders, and kittens around them. Quailfoot looked at ThunderClan beneath him and Elmstar did the same, not surprised to find happy, wistful, and proud smiles upon the muzzles of more than one cat. Even as his eyes swept across them, he saw Lizardstripe’s white teeth break from parted lips. And Leafcloud, curling her tail to rest on her paws, eyes swimming. Was she thinking of Elmstar joining her in the den instead, or maybe how pleasant it would be to have the deputy among them?
The warriors would miss them, Elmstar knew. Quailfoot was a beloved deputy, always juggling his duties and organizing patrols with both competence and friendliness. Flowerfur would have big pawprints to fill, for sure. And yet, he had no doubt that she was more than capable. ”Your Clan honors you and all the service you have given us. I call upon StarClan to give you many seasons of rest.”
Elmstar dipped his head as Quailfoot’s name rose immediately in a multi-toned chorus. Beside his mentor — Elmstar's son, Kestrelflight — Shadepaw had risen to his paws and his voice was the loudest, shrill with adolescent excitement. The newly-made elder stood, lifted his bark-colored eyes to his leader once more, gave Elmstar a deep, thankful nod, and was picking his way down the small platform and toward his clanmates. Toward the elders den, where Elmstar knew Leafcloud would greet him warmly, and side-by-side they would watch as he named Quailfoot’s replacement.
As the celebratory cries continued, Elmstar watched Flowerfur from his perch. When the cheer began to gradually cease, he looked out over ThunderClan again, picking apart their many gazes as they looked up at him curiously. ”So now comes the time to appoint a new deputy,” Minnowleap was scanning the crowd carefully, presumably attempting to discern the best match and no doubt expecting it to be himself. Elmstar had trained the feline for six long moons and knew the cat’s mind too well; had detected and noted the tom’s hunger for power from their very first training session. His first apprentice was respectable enough, sure, but Elmstar knew that Minnowleap would never become leader. He wore his ambition like an undisguised second pelt... and too often did it stand on end with prickly madness. He was aware, as were many of Minnowleap’s clanmates, that if given nine lives and command, the large gray and black tom would break ThunderClan against the hard rock of war before the next moon.
But other than Minnowleap, others were subtly gazing around, obviously wondering who he would choose. Shadepaw had settled once more on his haunches, but was now whispering something into Kestrelflight’s ear; earning a single, quiet word from his mentor. ”I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our ancestors may hear and approve my choice.” His calculating eyes came to rest on the brown tabby she-cat. ”Flowerfur will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.” Words: 1,051 Tagged: ThunderClan, where are yoou? Status: Clan Meeting/Everyone Muse: Not too terrible Notes: Well nearly two months was more than enough time for ThunderClanners to reply. *twiddles thumbs*
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Petrichor
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Heart of FourClans (Moderator)
I try my best to keep the site's blood pumping.
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Post by Petrichor on Sept 1, 2013 19:14:09 GMT -5
Flowerfur sat quietly as she watched Elmstar's eyes pass among the crowd, stopping on, to her surprise, Leafcloud. Every cat in the Clan knew of Leafcloud and Elmstar's relationship -- Leafcloud loved Elmstar, but to Elmstar, Leafcloud was just the mother of his kits. It was tragic, but that was just the way it was. Did Elmstar, perhaps, regret not showing love for the elder? Or was he simply showing respect?
Before Flowerfur could discern which was which, Elmstar's gaze had moved on, sweeping over the Clan once more before falling on the deputy, Quailfoot.
"Today ThunderClan sees one of her most dedicated and dependable members to the honor of a requested retirement." There was a brief pause. The atmosphere was relaxed, but Flowerfur knew this was the calm before the storm, because it wasn't any regular cat that was being retired. "Quailfoot."
Quailfoot was the very model of a dependable deputy. He was always there, always willing to protect his Clan, always there to help. Flowerfur, it seemed through the sudden murmur that passed through the crowd like a wave, wasn't the only one that was surprised he was retiring, either because he just didn't seem as old as he was or that some probably expected him to be deputy until the end of his life. Flowerfur was fortunate to know what this ceremony would entail, because... well. Even Elmstar seemed a bit sad to lose his best friend to the elders' den.
"Is it your wish to give up the name of a warrior and join the elders?" Flowerfur watched as the deputy's eyes looked over the crowd's, some of the cats excited, some of the cats saddened, and some of the cats just in shock. Quailfoot's eyes stopped on hers for just a fraction of a second, and Flowerfur was glad that he would be in the Elders' den for her to receive wisdom from -- the position of deputy wasn't something she particularly strived for, much less thought she would ever get. Nonetheless, Quailfoot sat up with the same youth that his spirit carried, even when his body aged, and spoke to the crowd. "It is," he said with a passion that erased any doubt of any ThunderClan cat's mind that this wasn't a prank, that the deputy of ThunderClan was most definitely retiring to the elders' den.
"Your Clan honors you and all the service you have given us. I call upon StarClan to give you many seasons of rest." Flowerfur stood with the other cats, calling out the deputy's name with the same respect that one might call a newly-named warrior's. Flowerfur closed her eyes as she listened to the voices around her -- there was something magical of all the voices of ThunderClan merging and becoming one. It was during these ceremonies that Flowerfur felt most connected to her Clan.
As the cries died down, Flowerfur opened her eyes and flicked an ear in surprise -- Elmstar was looking right at her. Well of course he's looking right at you. It's your ceremony, after all, Flowerfur's inner voice told her. Flowerfur looked back into her leader's eyes, looking for something, anything. She felt his respect for her, but not much else. He looked away before she could search for more, addressing the Clan once more. "So now comes the time to appoint a new deputy," Elmstar called out.
A quiet hush came over ThunderClan -- every cat holding their breath in anticipation of who the new deputy would be. Being in the back of the crowd, Flowerfur could see a majority of the cats. Shadepaw was whispering into his mentor's ear, but the most interesting reaction was from Minnowleap, who honestly gave Flowerfur a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she looked at him. The tom reeked of ambition and war, and she knew that, no matter how hard he tried, no right-minded leader would appoint him deputy.
After what seemed like an eternal break, Elmstar broke the silence once more. "I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of my ancestors may hear and approve my choice." There was another brief pause, and there was a collective inhale as every cat held their breath waiting for the name to arise. Flowerfur felt like shrinking into her pelt, but she knew she had to appear stoic for the Clan to truly approve of her. "Flowerfur will be the new deputy of ThunderClan."
Flowerfur suddenly felt the heat of ThunderClan's collective eyes on her, and she felt different reactions from each cat -- jealousy from Minnowleap and those like him, disbelief from some, but to Flowerfur's surprise, most of the cats had wistful smiles, encouraging smiles, like they were glad it was her above all else. Flowerfur knew that her Clanmates liked her -- it had been that way since she was a kit -- but even when Elmstar told her how much her Clanmates thought she deserved to be deputy, she never believed them. Until now.
Flowerfur, head held high, stepped forward and passed Quailfoot, sharing a smile and brushing pelts with him as she took his space directly below Elmstar, watching him retreat to the back of the crowd as cats continued to watch her. Minnowleap looked at her with prejudice and anger, but that didn't matter right now. Flowerfur could see half of ThunderClan from her current perch -- it was a much different change from being looked at on the ground. The ThunderClan deputy's heart swelled and she smiled down at her Clanmates, arising a yowl from them. "Flowerfur! Flowerfur! Flowerfur!"
Flowerfur wasn't a part of this yowl, but she could still feel the force of ThunderClan joining into one voice, and her soul, for the moment, was at peace. She was now the deputy of ThunderClan, and though she had big pawprints to fill, she was going to protect and serve her Clan as a queen would do for her kits. Like Elmstar had told her during that storm, she was now denied the privilege of being a mother -- but she could now consider the entirety of ThunderClan to be her children. |
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