{til there's nothing left of her} cheetahclan

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i44.tinypic.com/14kjhxf.jpg] [scrolly:h(486),w(215),sy] IT was quiet. That was probably the best part of solo patrols, at least for Dawnflower. When Tearstar had sent her out, she had been guiltily glad that she didn't come across Monarchpaw. Monarchpaw loved to tag along and train while they patrolled but that meant Dawnflower couldn't focus as well on the patrol. She'd ushered Monarchpaw off with Rapidfire for the day so the young cheetah could get some actual combat experience. Experience Dawnflower couldn't, or rather wouldn't, give. That was how she ended up wandering the seemingly endless plains of CheetahClan at sunhigh all by herself. She enjoyed it though, taking peace from the waving dry grass and letting herself revel in the solitude. With Rapidfire and Monarchpaw both busy for the day, there was hopefully no one out here to jump out of nowhere, ambushing her with questions and prodding at scars she didn't want to look at. So, she made her way peacefully toward the LeopardClan border without really being in a hurry though her delicate paws danced across the dry ground with the grace of the wind. DAWNFLOWER paused at a small creek, or at least it had once been a small creek. Lined with small boulders, the creek was normally a nice place to pause and have a drink for the patrols. Today though when the brown-eyed cheetah looked down, she found only dry earth. A soft sigh dragged itself from her at the sight. Greenleaf had been harsh and hot with cloudless days and hazy horizons from all the heat. The ground was baked hard and water was becoming a scarcity. Rounded auds pressing back against her well sculpted cranium, Dawnflower leaped down into the creek bed. Halfheartedly, she dug at the ground hoping to find moisture further down just as a sign that maybe the entire territory wasn't about to dry up. After a few moments of finding nothing but dust, she sighed again and shook her head. Tearstar would be fretting soon if they didn't find water or get more rain. DARK eyes were drawn to the sky and for the first time Dawnflower noticed something off. A frown came to her fair features as she stretched her neck skyward and squinted. Minutes ago the sky had been an unbroken blue, not a cloud in sight, fading to white near the horizon. Not now. Some dark haze was appearing in the sky and as she watched it curled ominously, tendrils floating along on the wind. A burnt, pungent tang awoke Dawnflower from her staring. Leaping out of the creek bed, she looked toward LeopardClan only to see columns of black smoke rising up from the grassland between the two clans. Dark eyes went wide with fear as the grass began to shrivel and blacken, hungry yellow and red flames lapping at the dry foliage. A shriek of fear came from the small she-cheetah. Turning, she ran, thanking StarClan for cheetahs being so fast. SADLY cheetah speed was temporary and soon Dawnflower found herself struggling to outrun the flames. They flickered and flashed in fits behind her, driven by the wind through the dry grasses. Panting raggedly, Dawnflower nearly sobbed with relief when she saw the camp coming into view. Drawing in a deep breath, for the first time in a long time, Dawnflower raised her voice, truly raised her voice. "FIRE! Fire! Everybody run! There's a fire!" SHE didn't know where to run except away from the flames. Tearstar would know though. CheetahClan territory was all plains, all grasses and now, all dry. The fire would have no problem sweeping through it and completely burning it out. Where could they run? A river came to mind, the river between LionClan and CheetahClan. Bounding into camp, Dawnflower kept yelling, although she hoped others would have seen the columns of smoke rising up when the fire began. "TEARSTAR! Rapidfire! Monarchpaw! Everybody run!" DUST was kicked up by the petite she-cheetah as Dawnflower skidded to a stop in the heart of camp. Her breathing came in rough, ragged pants as she looked frantically for her apprentice. Oh what would she do if Monarchpaw got trapped in the flames? She ran to the apprentice den but found it empty and ducked through her clanmates to the warrior den. Empty again. Raising her head trying to look over the rush of fleeing cheetahs and the haze of thick smoke settling over camp, Dawnflower tried to find her apprentice. "MONARCHPAW! Monarchpaw where are you!?" SOMEONE ran into Dawnflower and threw her to the ground in their haste to flee, driving the wind from her lungs. Struggling to get back up, she saw orange flames and a yellow glow creeping toward camp. Horror choked her as smoke cloyed and swirled in the air, pressing on her nose and making her throat burn. Her gaze was transfixed on the flames until again someone collided with her, driving her to the ground. Her head bounced on the ground leaving the petite cheetah dazed and sluggish, mind scrambling, still intent on finding Monarchpaw as foggy hazy shapes loomed over her. Dark smoke and bright flames crawling closer but for some reason Dawnflower couldn't get up. Someone leaped over her and vanished leaving her coughing in a thick haze of black smoke. Tagged;; CheetahClan Words;; 855 Singing;; NA Notes;; If you want your cheetah to survive, you must post them fleeing by 2/2, they're running to lionclan [/scrolly]

[darkwatcher]

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[atrb=background,http://i39.tinypic.com/24eauee.jpg] Tearstar had been having an ordinary day. The cheetah had been enjoying a piece of fresh-kill, sitting in a patch of sun. The sun was more comforting the older he got, it seemed. Idly, the leader of CheetahClan had wondered what he'd do that day. Maybe hunt, then patrol the borders. Not that anything ever happened on the borders, anyway. Stifling a yawn, Tearstar had debated taking a short nap before going out. It looked to be just another day, like any other of its kind. Then he heard Dawnflower. At the very mention of 'fire', Tearstar jerked his head up, instantly alert. Sure enough, a large, thick black column of smoke was rising over the plains. And it was coming this way. The leader sprang to his paws. Already the fire was spreading, crackling at the edges of camp. His Clanmates milled about in terror, scattering in every direction. Tearstar shook his head, trying to clear it. Not easy, with smoke in your lungs. He focused on the first thing that came to mind: Dawnflower. She'd warned them of the fire. Where is she? Squinting through the smoke, he heard her cry out for Monarchpaw. Calling his cheetah speed, Tearstar raced towards the sound. A brave warrior was an asset to the Clan, and one he wouldn't waste. "Dawnflower?' he called, trying to be heard over the roar of flames. All around him, CheetahClan's camp was up in flames. My home, burning. So many cubhood memories: The nursery, where he'd been born, the apprentice den, where he and Whipserpaw had slept side by side, keeping their comrades up all night with their chatter. His home. His Clan. And now it was burning, and he couldn't save it. All around him, the place where generations of cheetahs had been born, slept, ate, prayed to StarClan, bickered and squabled, laughed and played and eventually died; being consumed by the flames like he'd consumed that peice of prey just short minutes ago. If he had not been worrying about the delicate warrior, he'd have simply stood in camp and stared. But Tearstar had no time for this. He sprinted towards the place where he'd heard Dawnflower last. "Dawnflower!" He cast his voice into the ever-smokier camp. "Where are you?" Tagged;; Dawnflower Word Count;; 398...fail Background Song;; N/A Notes;; Scaary!

[}M.idnight]

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[atrb=background,http://i688.photobucket.com/albums/vv245/Midnight_kitteh/571665518_9ec98c305d_o-1-2.jpg] [scrolly:h(165),w(165),sy] Heartless. Cold. Sadistic. Many cruel words had been used to describe him, but he brushed them of with a growl or a hiss. He was the way he was. No one could change him and he was glad for that. He didn't want anyone's sympathy or words to help him change his mannerisms, he wanted to be left alone. Why joined the clan, was a mystery to all. The cheetah tom managed to seclude himself in the warriors' den for several hours. He had avoided every border and hunting patrol he had been called to attend. He preferred to patrol alone but no one seemed to understand this. He did not work well with others and they needed to figure it out soon before someone comes home with deep scars. He let out a throaty growl and curled up in the back of the den, trying to escape the reality of the clan's camp. Just as he started falling asleep, yelling came from outside. A bubble of anger floated up from his belly. Dragging himself his paws, he looked out of the entrance of the den. He watched as his clanmates were dashing from dens and out the entrance. "FIRE!" For the first time in a long while, Duskfeather felt fear creeping into his heart. He looked toward the sky and say it was nearly black. He noticed red and yellow hues coming in fast, and heard the grasses and plant-life crackle with the heat of the flame. He squeezed out of the den and looked around the camp, nearly everyone was gone, except the frail little Dawnflower. He would have sneered at her, but right now, they had to get out and to the safety of enemy territory. He growled in frustration and dashed over to her. She had obviously be ran into and forced her to hit her head. He lunged forward, grasping her scruff roughly in his jaws. Right now, he'd swallow any solitary feelings he had. He didn't want to see a clanmate die; he'd see enough death in life. Gripping tightly, he started to drag the daze she-cheetah towards the camp entrance. "This would be so much easier if you were smaller." He said in a huff. Strong muscled under his short pelt rippled as he dragged her. He glanced up at the sky and the surrounding area and saw the flames nearing the camp. Pulling harder to try and move faster wasn't helping; he was actually starting to make her bleed from the force of his jaws. He dropped her scruff and let out a bout of coughs as black smoke wafted around the two. "Don't worry. I'm not leaving you here. I'm trying to help for once in my life." He wheezed. He crouched down and managing to position himself to he could get the the cheetah onto his back. Once he knew she was on good, he started to run, kicking up clumps of dirt as he moved. Characters: Dawn, Dusk, CheetahClan Word Count: 508 Background song: "Hero" by Nickelback Notes: Though he's a big jerk, he couldn't just leave her there. [/scrolly]

[VALACIE]

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[atrb=background,http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i248/Rapta/Animal/rapidfire2-5.jpg] [scrolly:h(222),w(370),sy] He'd taken Monarchpaw as a favor to Dawnflower. He'd found he'd do favors for her without issue if she asked. Even though he didn't quite know what to do with an apprentice. He'd never had one and he was worried he'd get annoyed too quick. If his own apprenticeship was any indication a mentor had to be patient and Rapidfire just left for a hunt or to patrol when they tested his patience. Yet it seemed that recently if rabbit asked for it rabbit tended to get it, though she rarely got up the courage to ask for much. But what was he supposed to teach the young cat? He'd been wondering on this as he'd moved them to a quieter section of the grassland. The air was hot and dry, wavering at the far edges of his vision like waves in the sky. The grass was brittle and dry beneath his feet, crackling as he walked. He hated this time of year. His somewhat longer coat made the heat unbearable and the crackling grass made hunting without spooking the prey too early difficult. He couldn't wait till the heat was gone and the sun didn't beat down on them like the strike of a heavy paw. "Come on then, move a bit faster would you?" His voice sounded irritable, because he was irritated. He felt hot, and he wanted nothing more then to shed his fur and leave it in a ditch somewhere. As they moved something other then the crackle of the grass beneath his feet. Rounded auds shifted to find the noise, as he turned his head to look back at the camp. It was still in sight and so therefore still in listening distance. After a moment the air was ringing with the horrified screams of his clan. Rapidfire felt frigid claws rake down his spine as his mind called up images of blood and claws and teeth, but they fated just as quickly No imaginings of blood could hide the true culprit. From where he stood he could see the darkness of black columns rising in the sky. A limp breeze blew the heady smell of smoke into his face. "Fire." The word was a whisper on his tongue. Mismatched eyes widening as fear raked through him. He almost ran back to camp in blind terror, wanting to save his clan, wanting to protect his home. Wanting to find Dawnflower. But... he turned and looked at Monarchpaw. He couldn't run in there and bring her with him. His job was to make sure she was safe...and leading an apprentice into a raging fire was not safe. But they couldn't stay here. The rate the fire was spreading it'd be on them in moments if he didn't decide right this moment. Sucking in a breath he turned back to Monarchpaw. "Run. Run to the border. Hurry. We've got no time." He could smell the fire now, feel the first touches smoke itching in his lungs. Turning a longing glance in the camp's direction he felt his heart fall in his chest. "Starclan be alright..." He whispered. He wanted to go, wanted to look for Dawnflower and if need be search through that whole camp till his fur burned and his skin seared. He wanted to save his home. But now wasn't the time for that. Now they should run. ———————————— count: 581 tagg: errybodyyy notes: he's worried <3 also not the best, but wanted to post :3 music: none [/scrolly]

[` hatter !]

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[atrb=background,http://oi44.tinypic.com/i39duf.jpg] Any moment she could, Slittedwing was outside camp. Camp was noise, and noise bothered her old, weary ears. Camp was pestering warriors with stinging paws, worn down by the tough prairie landscape. Camp was, well, it was annoying. And Slittedwing disliked annoyances. She gave whoever was willing to bother her the explanation that she was searching for herbs, stocking up for bitter times. In all reality, her inventory was always well-done, never lacking. She was too nit-picky, too organized to ever run out. She used just enough herbs on each patient to heal them, nothing more, nothing less. This, of all things, she was trying to instill upon Harepaw. Whether it was successful, that was another thing. As much as she could try to deny it, he was a good student, with strong morals and a solid foundation of knowledge. He wanted to learn, anyone could see that plain as day, and as tough as Slittedwing was on him, she could see the potential. Unfortunately, Harepaw was soft; he was a dreamer. He missed his sister, looking longingly at her as she pranced by, oblivious to his passing gaze. Slittedwing saw everything and everyone, every emotion and every fear. It was just how she was. Sometimes it was irritating, always having to see and notice what she didn’t want to. If you ever stopped and really paid attention, the complaints you saw in eyes were remarkable. And ridiculous. The elderly medicine cat stretched her limbs in front of her, arching her back luxuriously. When she set out an hour or so ago, she had had no real aim to where she was going. No goals or ambitions. A cat with a cough had been whimpering to her, the sissy little fellow, so Slittedwing had rolled her eyes, handed him to Harepaw, and walked away. On an average day, she would have given him less trust, thought him unable to handle the sick clan mate, but she had woken up on a foul side of the nest that morning, coming across a mouth full of dusty prey for breakfast. She shook her smooth spotted fur, pushing away the weariness that had begun to cave in her strong exterior. Pshh, growing old wasn’t a blessing, it was a curse. Dying didn’t take you to a fantastical world, it was simply death. Bleak. The weather was fine, if stifling, a baby blue ceiling, untouched by the wispiness of marshmallow clouds. The breeze was light, almost nonexistent, the sun was gracing the horizon with golden rays, and birds chirped in a swell melody. Slittedwing was the foul dark cloud over the storybook setting. Movement ceased when she came near, the bird’s singing become more ominous, though this was very unlikely the truth. Her careful nose, honed from years of searching or hard-to-locate greenery, picked up the pungeant scent of catmint. Although not lacking it, she certainly could use more of it. A rare find, in such a kind of territory. Useful for treatment of the plagues that took clan mates with greedy, slimy fingers. Slittedwing padded towards the smell, swatting at a honey bee that shadowed her every movement. Bad memories of bee stings, to say the least. Deaths, injuries, that’s all the world revolved around. Fight for your clan, result in Slittedwing’s den. Get better, fight again. It was a vicious cycle. The hallowed plant was right where she figured it to be, a round, stocky clump of purple flowers, similar to lilac. Her jaws clamped gently around the stalks, severing them with a swift bite. She suddenly raised her head, feeling oddly like she was missing something. The birds. They were no longer singing. As if on cue, a sickly bitter smell drifted past her nose and she looked up so sharply the plant fell from her maw. No, no, no, no. Not this, not now. Not when the forest was a walking tinder box. Smoke. The medicine cat, never showing weakness, now shuddered, mind replaying the last fire she had been in. It was not pretty, the burns, the searing fur. Oh, the screams of the clan mates she couldn’t save. StarClan, give me strength. Yes, she could run towards the river, a choice that was most plausible. She was actually very close to it, with its receding waters and lapping tides. Even as the thought crossed her mind, it flitted away. She was going back to do whatever she could, however little that might be. Though her bones were becoming creaky, they did not slow her, and she took off bounding, kicking up dirt behind her. The unmistakable aroma of smoke was catching up to her, and already waves of unwelcome heat were slipping through her fine dappled coat. The clan needed to be evacuated before the flames got any higher, lest they be trapped between the grasslands. What had once offered shelter could now block their flee to safety. Fire began lapping at her heels, and Slittedwing panted, running at full speed, barrelling across the prairies. It wasn’t fire itself that the old medicine cat found herself afraid of- it was the aftermath of the disaster. The camp was like a shining light and arrived in a frenzy, shouldering past an agape Monarchpaw, as to whom she grumbled at to flee, let the older cats do this. The once beautiful sky now seemed menacing, filled with dark grey tendrils of smoke, rising to the heavens to poison even StarClan. Her mind raced as she watched helplessly as the racing flames began to encircle the camp. Dawnflower, on the ground, looking ruffled and panicked. Slittedwing nudged her on her pursuit of her den, looking over her shoulder as Duskfeather skirted her away. Tearstar called Dawnflower’s name, desperate to find his clan mate. Slittedwing, voice hoarse with the veil of unbreathable air, screeched to him, before shoving him harshly into the direction of the camp exit. “She’s safe, Tearstar, now go! Get everyone out! Don’t come back.” Her mind was a single goal, a single need. The smoke was closing in, lacing the air with a smoggy thickness. It clogged her throat, making it difficult for her to draw in a breath. The dip in the ground, surrounded by ferns and sheltered in the hollow of a log, was mere seconds from burning when Slittedwing slipped in, eyes scanning the foggy room for her prize. Marigold, for burns and nerves. Aloe vera, to speed the healing. A comb of honey for the throats. Suddenly her precious den, her lifesaving herbs, was ablaze, the pieces of fern and splintered wood raining down on her exposed back. Yelping, she snatched up the herbs in her wide-stretched jaw, and she stumbled blindly out into the open. Her flank stung something fierce, sizzled and fried, but her paws kept moving. This was home. Her home was burning to the ground. Rapidfire, running to be a hero. Slittedwing growled at him, baring a fang through the pointy aloe vera plant. “Move, lovebird, she’s already gone. Go, get, scat, to the river!” And finally, oh, god. Harepaw. Where was her apprentice? Groaning, the medicine cat turned, yelling through the foliage she held in her slender jaw. “Harepaw? Harepaw?!” She shouted fervently, coughing and wincing with every step she took. No, Slittedwing would not leave him behind. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - now? dawnflower, duskfeather, rapidfire, tearstar, and harepaw<3 TAGGED xxx WORDS oh, slittedwing. NOTES gooooood MUSE

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i44.tinypic.com/14kjhxf.jpg] [scrolly:h(486),w(215),sy] EVERYTHING was hazy. Shapes, dark and ominous loomed over Dawnflower, springing over her with ease. She had to get up. The ground was uncomfortably hot and more heat was coming her way in a bright glow of orange light. Another cat sprang over her, their back foot catching her on the side of the head before she could even rise. A grunt of pain pulled itself from the little cheetah as the scratch under her left eye welled up blood, sending it trickling down her cheek like morbid bloody tears. The air was thick and heavy, unnaturally so and it clotted in her lungs. She tried to inhale properly but there was no clean air to be found as she tried to stagger upright. Everything was covered in darkness and oppressive heat and strangely in that moment all Dawnflower wanted was sunlight. Clean, clear, good sunlight. It might get hot during greenleaf but the sun itself had never hurt them like this was, this fire. FIRE. RAPIDFIRE. IF he died it would be her fault. She'd sent him out with Monarchpaw, asked him this one favor so her apprentice could actually learn to fight. If he got trapped out on the plains...if Monarchpaw got trapped! If they died it would be her fault because she told them to go. She told them to go so she could have that solo patrol to think about so many things. None of them were important now, those things she'd gone to ponder. Oh why hadn't she just had Monarchpaw stay with her? Why hadn't she gone with them to oversee the training session as Monarchpaw's mentor? NEARBY the nursery went up in flames dragging a strangled sound of despair from the she-cheetah. The place where she'd been born. Where she'd wanted to birth her kits. Black smoke rolled from the nursery, engulfing Dawnflower and making her cough. Sinking back to the ground, narrow flanks heaving with the effort to breathe, she distantly heard someone call her name but her ears were buzzing like millions of angry hornets had taken up residence in her skull. HER eyes rolled back and she went limp against the ground moments before someone's fangs sank into her scruff. ~~~~~ COMING back around was hazy and slow, or at least it felt like it. Or maybe she just went in and out of consciousness. She was aware of something moving under her, like something running with heavy steps. When she finally dragged her brown eyes open, Dawnflower found herself sprawled across another cat's back. She couldn't tell who, their scent was smothered with the tang of smoke and ash. It made her want to gag. Without really meaning to, Dawnflower started to squirm until she wriggled right off the cat's back. She fell to the ground, the ground hot and promising the approaching fire. Staggering up right, coughing from deep in her lungs where the smoke had settled, Dawnflower wheeled around and shook at the sight. THE territory was...up in flames. Black columns of smoke rose from the grassland and orange flames danced high, only too happy to consume the dry grasses. Dawnflower opened her mouth to call for her apprentice, for her friend, for anyone, but no sound would come from her. Only coughing. Turning away, forcing herself to turn away, Dawnflower spotted her rescuer through the gloom. Duskfeather, ever sarcastic and seldom anything close to helpful or friendly. He was the one cat Dawnflower knew without a shaodw of a doubt was alive. Without thinking further because thinking hurt, she ran toward him and then alongside him as they sought out the river between CheetahClan and LionClan. She could barely see through the heavy smoke but she knew more or less where the river was, or should be. Without it, LionClan's prairie lands would also go up in flames but the river was wide and would allow no flames to pass. Dawnflower had frequented the river on patrols and hoped Monarchpaw would remember it and the safety it promised during fires. ALL at once, Dawnflower's paws hit sand and she nearly stumbled in surprise at the sudden change of terrain. Half-blind from the smoke and lungs contracting painfully, Dawnflower didn't bother wasting time. Out of the corners of her eye she could see her clanmates fleeing, leaping into the river even though cheetahs weren't known as particularly fine swimmers. In fact, most of them snubbed swimming or fish even during times of famine. Water simply wasn't an option for them which is why no one had particularly been angry when moons and moons ago LionClan had claimed the river as a hunting ground for themselves. They were much more capable fishers, with their big paws and such, than any Cheetah ever would be. At least that was what the elders had said. Why the story came to mind now, Dawnflower had no idea, she just knew that she followed her clanmates without hesitation into the river. THE current nearly swept her a way. It probably would have actually if the river had not been depleted by recent dry spells. Dawnflower was buffeted by the current but kept kicking, swimming clumsily toward the other side as the fire grew closer and closer to the river. LionClan looked so safe compared to the nightmare behind her that Dawnflower nearly sobbed at the sight of flame-free plains. She probably would have if water hadn't surged up into her mouth and nose making her splutter. Had she ever taught Monarchpaw the basics of swimming? Oh she couldn't remember! WHEN earth finally pushed up against Dawnflower's paws, the she-cheetah dug in and dragged herself further up the bank. When she fell at last she didn't drown. Instead she ended up half in the river and half out, her hind legs submerged and head resting on the rock that made up the LionClan bank. She breathed unevenly, air rattling and rasping in her lungs. Dark brown eyes stared, wide and unseeing at the smoke wafting into LionClan skies from the fire. Distantly she heard more splashing as more and more cheetahs sloppily swam toward safety, driven by desire to live enough to push down their pride and dislike of water. Dawnflower's whole body felt heavy as adrenaline ebbed from it. Her heart pounded in her ribcage with frightening speed and intensity and as the adrenaline ebbed from her, she began to shiver. Small shivers, as though she was cold despite the impossible heat from the flames that had scorched the tips of her fur and left burns on her paw pads. Closing her eyes, Dawnflower bit her tongue to keep silent as she heard her clanmates giving wails of distress for loved ones they didn't see. She didn't want to get up and look only to find Monarchpaw and Rapidfire dead or missing. She didn't want to hear that Tearstar didn't hear her warning or that Slittedwing got cornered in her den. She just wanted to give in to the blackness again crawling at the edges of her vision so the pounding in her head and burning in her lungs would stop. Tagged;; CheetahClan Words;; 1219 Singing;; NA Notes;; -pets dawn- [/scrolly]

[alice?!]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/14l682o.jpg] [scrolly:h(188),w(189),sy] Slittedwing had left him this morning, he could tell she was irritated -- by something. He found the things that irritated her were too numerous to pick out exactly what it was -- be she'd made it obvious. One thing he'd noticed.. while she was sly and he was pretty sure she could read him like a book, despite her near constant irritated look, she was hard to read. She'd left him with a coughing cat -- a whimpering young warrior. Apparently, his first task was upon him, though he doubted it was because her level of trust in him had increased so much, simply that she couldn't bear to deal with him. It was a simple case of a small tansy flower and then a little honey so that the tom would shut up -- Harepaw could understand why Slittedwing didn't like whining. It did grate on your ears. Without much else to do -- Harepaw had wandered over to the Elder's Den. He often enjoyed their company. Despite his new found path -- the stories of warriors to be remembered had always facinated him, and besides -- they were the few who never looked upon him with pity. Those strong and sturdy warriors who could never fathom the life of a Medicine Cat looked upon him like he should be sulking in a corner -- and sometimes had the audacity to tell him they were 'pround' that he could deal with such a crippling blow (litteraly). Other than Slittedwing and a few who could stand his silences, they were his company. The faint cries eventually pulled his attention from watching the elders go about their business, they'd long stopped the stories, but he was content to sit in their company as they asked about life. He struggled to his feet -- attempting to stretch his now stiff leg. After being still for a long while, it protested to being used once again. His tread was as hurried as he could make it with the pain -- though he still felt sluggish and slow -- as the cries escalated instilling fear deep into his heart. His nose itched, and he sneezed rapidly -- once, twice, three times before he looked around bleary eyed. Mist hung over the camp? No, no that wasn't mist it was smoke! Suddenly, the garbled and panicked cries that had caught his attention make sense, there was fire somewhere. He whipped around, and stumbled back toward the elders den, sliding to a halt and staring at them wide-eyes for two moments too long. His voice was quieter than it should have been, but so soaked with fear that it was impossible not to sense the urgency of the situation. "There's... there's a fire..." He shook his head. "You've got to get out of camp, get to the river. Hurry!" Thankfully, the elders managed to operate just fine -- because he certainly wasn't in any condition to help, if anything he slowed the (surprisingly) nimble elder cats down. "Harepaw? Harepaw?!" His eyes burned, ears rung and whether or not it was his imagination, everything was hot -- his skin itched and he felt like he could never move fast enough. "Slittedwing! I'm here!" He whirled around, ears against his skull and eyes ever widening with fear. His breathing was ragged, and the smoke that hung in the air did nothing to help that, as well as blocking any hope of seeing or scenting well. He started forward, steps haphazard and painful, anything that could get him to move faster -- never mind how much it irked with his leg. "Slittedwing! Where are you?! Where's Monarchpaw!" His head swam, but he managed to follow the direction of her voice. Herbs were clamped in her jaws, and she looked just as panicked as he felt. His first thought was to ask her if she wanted help to carry them, and did so -- rather timidly, as if he was afraid she would scold him. "My sister, did you see her? I.. I made sure the elders had gone! What about everyone else? Won't we need more supplies?" His obviously panicked tone increased with each question, as the heat around them increased on all sides. The Nursery had already gone -- he'd been forced to pass it as he stumbled toward his mentor. Memories, moments fading in the blink of an eye -- an entire life lost to the raging flames and unruly weather. It terrified him. Hopefully, his clan-mates were smart enough to flee. Hopefully, he and Slittedwing managed to hold onto enough supplies to heal them. Hopfully he would be able to keep it together. Hopefully. eh. not extremely fond of this -- but it shall do. Harepaw's helped the 'elders' even though there aren't any, if that's okay. "Speech", " Clan-mates Speech" [/scrolly]

[darkwatcher]

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[atrb=background,http://i39.tinypic.com/24eauee.jpg] Tearstar stared around at the fire. "It's probably time to go," he muttered. Trusting that everyone was out, the leader of CheetahClan made a dash for the exit. He was out of camp in a flash. Streaking out, his throat sore from breathing in the smoke, his eyes watering from the same blasted smoke. The thick, vile black smoke, spit out by the fire, eating his home. Tearstar felt an emotion he rarely experienced. Hadn't experienced, after that fateful day that haunted his waking and sleeping moments. Rage. At the river, instead of crossing it, the elderly leader turned to stare at his home. What he saw dismayed him. The entirety of the camp, and most of the territory, was on fire. He closed his eyes, dismayed. How could this happen? Was StarClan playing another cruel joke on hm? It wasn't fair! His home, his Clan's home for generation upon generation, lost forever. CheetahClan...it's gone. Tearstar shook his head. "No, CheetahClan lives on," he said quietly. "CheetahClan will live on, as long as I have my Clanmates, and the Warrior Code. With that, he turned and plunged into the river. It was cold. And wet. Teastar hated cold, wet things. Being a cheetah, he'd never really swam, and rain he could handle. But now...the water was lapping all around him, coming dangerously near his eyes and nose. Struggling to keep his head above the water, he managed to make it to the other shore. Tearstar dragged himself out and stood, gasping for breath. As soon as he'd recovered somewhat, he looked about at his Clanmates. It was worse than he'd thought. They were milling around in confusion, looking dismayed and panicked. Tearstar didn't blame them. StarClan, even he was dismayed and panicked. It was only reasonable. Their home was burning to the ground, after all. He sighed. Well, at least no one seemed to be missing; that was a blessing. Tearstar didn't really feel very blessed. In fact, he felt like a failure. He should have done....something. Now, Tearstar knew this was a ridiculous thought, and no doubt if he told Slittedwing she'd laugh. It didn't feel very funny, though. Fires were an act of nature, but why now? Was StarClan punishing him? For what? Good grief, they couldn't be punishing him for that, could they? He hadn't known StarClan had such a long memory. And now they must just be waiting to unleash a terrible punishment on him and his innocent Clanmates! Tearstar felt like running into a corner and crying. But of course, he was Tearstar. He didn't do anything of the sort, obviously. Instead, his eyes stayed dry, and a short, grim statement was all that passed his lips. "Gah, I'm getting too old for this." Tagged;; CheetahClan Word Count;; 496 Background Song;; N/A Notes;; Poor Teary :,(

[VALACIE]

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[atrb=background,http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i248/Rapta/Animal/rapidfire2-5.jpg] [scrolly:h(222),w(370),sy] Precious time was lost as he stood look at the ruins of his home. Cheetah sped past Rapidfire with fear in their eyes. `He'd made the choice to run, but alas his legs wouldn't carry him. Despite each breath clogging with the black smoke and his eyes watering from the toxic air Rapidfire was fighting the need to run back and check. Check that rabbit had gotten out alright, that there were no clanmates yelling for help that would not come. He wanted to go back and just make sure. But he couldn't move. His mismatched eyes took in the flames that swept closer, the flickering red and orange tendrils like nature's rage seemed to beckon him in their dance. They mocked as they ate the grass and nests and memories. It was Slittedwing that woke him from his stupor. The older cheetah's voice was like a dash of cold water on his senses. With a rush of sound the world came back into focus and Rapidfire hacked and coughed like a cat drowning on his own lungs. Eyes raw and watering, and skin so hot it was as though the fire danced on his fur Rapidfire turned and ran. His footsteps were wobbly at first, he ran like he was drunk on some herbal remedy his strides lurching haphazardly over the ground as his coughs shook him from nose to tail tip. The world around him seem made of noise; crackling fires, screams, and starclan only knew what else. Yet somehow he managed to keep going as his memories and his home burned steadily faster behind him. What could he have done? Nothing. So why did it hurt so much? Why did he feel like a coward because fear made him move faster, because fear kept his feet running in the opposite direction. Blinking his eyes rapidly he forced the tears away as his stride evened out, let him move faster and sprint over the ground. Somewhere in the confusion he'd lost Monarchpaw he realized, his eyes to blurred with tears to really see the world around him. He was sure he'd told her to run, to head to the river. Surely she'd listened? If a warrior couldn't do anything to help against a fire then surely an apprentice could do even less. There was no reason he could see for her not to have gone to the river. And so he prayed to Starclan that she had, and that the rest of the clan was with her. He prayed that everyone was alive and safe. At some point the earth beneath him changed and the sound of fire crackling crashed against the sound of water as cheetahs jumped into the safety of the river. Now came the hard part. Closing his eyes and taking a breath Rapidfire jumped into the water, felt the waves crash against his slender body and felt almost positive that he was about to drown. With a glance back at the flickering flames he didn't quite know which would be a worse death; fire or the dark cold depths of the river. Struggling with paws that were never meant to tread this terrain Rapidfire forced his mind to grow silence and focus on nothing but keeping his head above the waves. His lungs still burned with smoke and it seemed like every time he got a good motion going a coughing fit would surge up and disrupt his rhythm. It took everything he had to keep his head up and even then he felt water join the smoke in his lung as fought his way from Cheetahclan to Lionclan. It felt like ages before he reached the opposite bank, his body shaking with strain as pulled himself up out of the water. His fur was soaked and he shook with coughs as he tried to hack the smoke and water out of his body, though it felt like his lungs would come out first. Eyes stinging and red he felt an exhaustion so deep he wanted nothing more then to collapse right where he stood, let the world move on around him as his legs cursed him for this mistreatment. Instead he shook the water off as best he could and began moving up the bank. He didn't know everyone from the clan but he searched the faces and found those he recognized and was glad to see them safe. Though judging by the calls that went up there were still quite a few that were missing. His heart fell to think that they might still be in the remains of their camp, dead or dying. One face in particular he searched for. Dawnflower. He feared that rabbit had been left behind, that something had happened and the slighter Cheetah was over in the camp right this moment, burning. The thought sent chills down his spine, and yet his throat felt too hoarse to call out her name. He had to rely on his eyes and for once the faces of his clanmates blurred together a mess of spots and stripes and golden fur. If she wasn't here he'd go find her. Even if it killed him, of that he was certain. Moving gingerly along the bank, zigzagging through his clanmates he stopped only when a shape by the river, half submerged in water caught his eye. Turning he studied the slight frame that looked even smaller with fur soaked through with water and knew at once he'd found her. "Dawnflower." The word was a breath, and caused yet another hacking fit. Once back under control Rapidfire move faster now, running till he came up beside her. Circling around so he could look into her face he touched his nose to hers, "Rabbit." He said in a hoarse whisper, his mismatched eyes filled with concern and relief and so many other things he couldn't even name. "Can you stand? You have to get out of the water..." He kept his voice low, fearful of the cough that hurt his chest and made his eyes water. ———————————— count: 1026 tagg: errybodyyy -mostly dawnflower- notes: music: ---- [/scrolly]

[` hatter !]

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[atrb=background,http://oi44.tinypic.com/i39duf.jpg] It was clogging her senses, this black death. It was an uncommonly known fact that the real killer of fires was in fact the smoke- not the burning hot inferno. Cats could outrun the flames, could leap away from the crackling burns. Smoke was trickier, silent and floating, only detectable by the haze that settled oh-so quickly and the signs of a bitter, burning smell. Flames were beginning to encircle, and she watched in cold horror as the nursery was pulled into the heartless, encroaching monster. All of those memories, all of the new life that had been brought there, it was gone. A natural disaster in the span of half and hour had erased the love that had existed. Childbirths, as much as Slittedwing found them disagreeable, childhoods of the current generation. CheetahClan had abandoned this camp only once before, and the thought of it made her shudder. She knew what to expect when she returned with her crestfallen clan mates. Raining ashes, thick soot, and the skeletons of old dens. Their home would be burned to a very dismal crisp. A new wave of heat pushed Slittedwing to desert her thoughts. Harepaw couldn’t have much longer; if he was in camp, that is, which Slittedwing assumed he was. She had made it plenty clear that she wouldn’t appreciate his leaving the boundaries of the home walls. Favorably, her timid apprentice was not one to disregard her orders, direct or not. The medicine cat continued to call his name, cheeks poked and prodded by the spiny plant. Her shouts gradually became more panicked, her outer facade breaking and splintering. She let out an antagonized huff as her back singed painfully. As an attempt to relieve some of the pain, she shrugged her shoulders, though immediately regretted it as new wave laid fingers over her spinal cord. Finally, his voice channeled through the dim, and she allowed her ears to guide her to his position, other senses blocked by the fire. Her tired heart lifted, as much as she could hope to quiet it. Limping, he came into view, and she placed a more guarded expression on her weathered face, losing its panicked glow. Just because a cheetah apocalypse was taking place were no grounds to lose her entire persona. Her ears pulled back and, eyes narrowing, she tossed him the herbs, murmuring something under her breath about now not being the time to be a spineless, hesitant kit. Oh, Slittedwing, managing to squeeze an insult into the most inappropriate of circumstances. Monarchpaw wasn’t a priority weighing so heavily on Slittedwing’s mind at the moment. If the ignorant she-cat wanted to dive headfirst into danger, when she had a clear escape route, then so be it. They weren’t going to go looking for her, risking the only cats able to heal the injuries and panic that must be setting in on the other side of the churning waters. Usually, the medicine cat would begrudgingly turn around, prepared to save her missing clan mate. Eh, Monarchpaw was just a different story. Too difficult, a burr under her spotted coat. They were leaving, right this instant. “She’ll be fine, Harepaw.” Slittedwing hissed, the waves become blistering. As a response to his next question, she snapped, a strangled sound that spoke of how much it ached for her to utter. “Burned. Everything’s gone.” Without looking back, she turned, gesturing for him to follow. The camp was emptied, it was only them. “And if we don’t leave now, we’ll burn as well.” The flickering flames were so close now, lapping at the grasslands like hungry children. She raised her lip, down casting her eyes so Harepaw couldn’t see her torture. Her paws came to life, pulling her away from her home, loping as to not leave her crippled apprentice behind. Smaller blazes exploded in flashing columns all around her, and she hesitated for only a second at the crest of the grassy hill. Illuminating her haggard face like a morbid light, they fluttered as she took one final leer over the mangled destruction. Harepaw trailing behind, she ran, ran through the deserted territory in a flight, her lungs fighting back the urge to cough out the hazardous smoke. She could only hope, dearly hope, that her clan had all been freed from their crumbling dens. It took them much too long to reach the lapping rivers, fighting to pull ahead of the marching blaze. Her ghastly near-crimson orbs lifted to the heavens in triumph as they registered the sanctuary that was spinning tides. As she expected, the other side of the river was seemingly unscathed, night and day to the choking and dying thing that was CheetahClan territory. Oh good lord, lions. How she loathed the creatures. Bitterness swelled on her tongue, imagining the debt they would have to pay to the proud, broad beasts. For a moment, her pace slowed, the age-old clockwork of her brain telling her not to go, to stay and never need anything from anyone. Burning to her certain death, grotesquely, felt the brighter of her two options. The small portion of her reasonable mind chastised her stubborn side. A frustrated sigh. Her clan needed her on the other side, and therefore she shook her head in animosity before taking Harepaw by the scruff, forcefully removing the herbs in his maw, and tossing him into the shallow banks of the icy, spring-cold waters. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - cheetahclan TAGGED 896 WORDS I apologize if I power-played Harepaw, I just didn't want to have to post a bunch more times to get them to the river x3 NOTES erfhhfh MUSE

[` hatter !]

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[atrb=background,http://i376.photobucket.com/albums/oo205/wowee333/MONARCHMIDDLE2.png] She didn’t even like Rapidfire, the she-cheetah found herself bitterly thinking as her paws found the open ground of the training hollow. She saw how he watched Dawnflower, called her his little ‘rabbit’. Each time, Monarchpaw had rolled her light-colored orbs, biting back an exasperated huff. And she could see it happening, Rapidfire leading the poor dear on, probably for his own good, and then systematically snapping her like a dry, brittle twig. Then who would be cleaning up that mess? Her. Early at dawn, as quiet as a whisper, her mentor had nudged her awake, dumped her with the proud fellow, and then left. She didn’t even bother to stay and watch how she progressed. Butterflies of disappointment pitter-pattered across her chest, and the light of training excitement had died down. The poor thing had been pining for a chance to impress Dawnflower with how hard she had been working for a few sunrises now. The disgruntled, crestfallen look had been swiped away though, hidden from Dawnflower’s sights, just as quickly. She wouldn’t mope like a kit; break character, while her teacher looked on. And Rapidfire had accepted the responsibility of a difficult day with Monarchpaw simply to impress the slender she-cat. Oh, rabbit, of course I’ll bend to your every will. Anything, rabbit. Monarchpaw mocked, mouthing the words animatedly behind her victim’s padding back. The weather, the hot, dry, clinging weather, managed to set her into a worse of moods. Even with her thin, wiry coat, she felt like she was baking alive. At this point Dawnflower would have stopped, led her apprentice to a watery oasis, to satisfy her palette. Rapidfire plunged on, silent as a church mouse, though she could sense the annoyed bubble of air hovering around his handsome spotted flank. Good, Monarchpaw thought with a cold sense of satisfaction. Just to pull at his strings, as she saw it fit to, her paws came down heavier than needed, making grating crackles in the parched and arid flooring. With an amused leap of renewed cheerfulness, she pulled her forever-unsheathed claws along a jutting rock face, producing a perfectly shrill note in her wake. "Come on then, move a bit faster would you?" She shrugged, slowing her pace even further. “No, I think this is a perfectly fine pace, actually.” Monarchpaw raised her voice, a smugness cracking the cordial tone. Who cared if Rapidfire wanted to teach her something useful?- though she sincerely doubted he did. Her ears perked up suddenly, her body stopped moving entirely as she swiveled to better hear the sounds. Camp, at the bottom of a shallow dip, was surrounded, not by enemy clan-mates as she so suspected, but by a ring of dancing flames. Monarchpaw’s eyes widened to saucers, her paws itched, and dread caved her tiny heart. Temporarily forgetting her general distaste for Rapidfire, she searched his oddly colored auds, finding no solace, no comfort. The strong warrior looked vulnerable. Immediately Monarchpaw deciphered how torn he was: leave her to fend for herself and run to his little rabbit, or sacrifice Dawnflower and pray to the heavens that she would escape the burning inferno. Fire, what it did to souls. Monarchpaw narrowed her eyes, wishing so dearly to be grown-up, to be in camp and do whatever she could to save her clan. Maybe the fire could be put out! Maybe CheetahClan’s home could be saved! The thought wilted, died, as columns of thick, throaty smoke rose into the clear blue sky. Her pelt rippled in a deep shudder. What if they didn’t get out? "Run. Run to the border. Hurry. We've got no time." But no, Harepaw. Oh, Harepaw, with his mangled, disabled leg. She closed her eyes for just a moment, hiding from the madness, and saw his body amongst the flames, struggling to make grounds to escape the trap of death. There was no way she would prance to safety when his salvation was unknown. In that moment, she was like Rapidfire, wanting so dearly to reunite with her brother it ached. Slittedwing, shouldering past her in a flurry, pushed Rapidfire away from her. It was what she had expected, him leaving her when his fear took over. And so he did, lurching over the hot ground, doing the one thing Monarchpaw now couldn’t bring herself to do. Leave. Camp was being consumed, destroyed. Oh, the nursery, in the distance, folding then disappearing into a cloud of grey mass. This roused a strangled cry from Monarchpaw and she stumbled, like taking a physical blow. Jadestorm, the lynx, her death. Her last memory, open like a fresh wound. The stitches she had meticulously placed over her damaged heart ripped into pieces, and an animal sob escaped her lips. Cheetahs fled beside her, moving in blurs and terrified paw steps, but Monarchpaw moved in the opposite direction, blatantly disregarding Rapidfire’s orders by returning to her home. Her lungs began to burn; a cough racked her delicate frame. Without warning, like an explosion, the wild grass ignited, blocking her entrance to camp. White heat spread waves over her coat, blistering, and she blundered backwards, yelping and tripping on her own feet. It was encircling her now, trapping Monarchpaw in a fast-moving wind of hot air. Her eyes moved back and forth frantically, in a panic, and powered by fear, she wobbled onto four paws, turned tail, and ran; guilt beat down by her need for flight. The cloak of smoke clogged her five senses and blindly she ran, the fire steadily winning the battle to the river. Every panicked breath was a struggle; it slowed her down until finally she couldn’t go on. Black clouded her vision, making her woozier then she’d ever been. Which way led to the border? Where was her clan? She was turned around and backwards, losing every sense of direction she could have possibly had. Every way she whirled, fires raged through the dry, brittle landscape. No, this couldn’t be happening. This wouldn’t be the end; she had too much life to live. Her mind screamed at her faulting body to keep going, to move, to do anything. Lacking oxygen, it refused stubbornly, collapsing to the sooty ground. The flames were quickly catching up to her, and eyelids fought to stay open. A final, strangled gasp of air, painful as it was, and she screamed, the sound sounding more feral than she had ever been. “Dawnflower!” And with that, lids and lashes covered her pretty eyes, her tired mind lay still, and she succumbed to the darkness. Notes- Daaaaawnflower, saaaaaave meeeeee

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[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i44.tinypic.com/14kjhxf.jpg] [scrolly:h(486),w(215),sy] DAWNFLOWER felt hazy and heavy, like someone had filled her with lead or the smoke she'd inhaled had solidified in her lungs, dragging down her delicate frame. Laying on the soft riverbank, she trembled and shook, dark eyes staring into space as her mind was filled with flames and black smoke. Monarchpaw. Rapidifre. Duskfeather. Tearstar. Did they even make it out? Her head was too heavy to lift and see. She could hear her clanmates coughing and moving around nearby, feel their panicked unsteady pawsteps vibrating through the earth. Pain washed through Dawnflower but she had no idea where it came from or if it was even real. It was probably all in her head but it throbbed through her with each heartbeat. It was a familiar sensation from Sting's rebellion. Survivor's guilt. Squeezing her dark eyes shut, Dawnflower didn't even try to drag herself out of the water. It lapped at her slender hind legs, not doing much to take away the oily feel of soot and smoke trapped on her burnt pelt. Had she been capable, 'RABBIT.' IT was barely a whisper of breath, hardly even a word but Dawnflower caught it. Forcing her tired eyes open, she dragged her head up from the riverbank. Mismatched orbs glowed through the gloom of smoke wafting across the river from their home. Rapidfire. 'CAN you stand? You have to get out of the water...' HE could have asked her to do anything right then and she would have found the energy to do it. Relief and sadness and a myriad of other emotions piled up to give Dawnflower the energy she needed. It was stiff and slow, lethargic like someone that had slept for far too long but she managed. She dragged herself from the muddy water of the river and without a second thought pressed her muzzle and face against Rapidfire's neck. Relief washed over her like cleansing waves making her tremble again but for a whole different reason. It was nearly crushing in its strength but Dawnflower was used to strong emotions and just tried to breathe, pressed up against Rapidfire, her entire posture curling toward him. He was safe, alive and real. The rancid smell of smoke coiled into her nostrils from his scorched pelt but Dawnflower ignored it, knowing she smelt no better than he did. "IT'S all gone..." Dawnflower's voice was rough and quieter than ever as she spoke against Rapidfire's scruff, turning her head to the side toward him so he could hear her. Her dark eyes were sad and troubled as she saw the flames and smoke still consuming their home. SUDDENLY though, it struck Dawnflower that something...something wasn't right about Rapidfire. She pulled her head back and stared at him, her eyes growing wider by the moment. Without speaking she whipped her head around, eyes dancing from smoke-covered cat to soot-coated cat seeking one, just one. Tearstar was wading out of the river, Slittedwing was helping Harepaw out of the water. Duskfeather was shaking himself off not far away. As far as she could see, everyone was there except one. Dawnflower's eyes snapped back to Rapidifre. "NO." The word was barely a breath, if he heard her it would be a miracle despite how close they were. "No! You left her behind! How could you?!" Her voice was getting louder, cracked with panic and pain. Her eyes went to the smoldering side of the river. No one else was swimming toward them. "Monarchpaw!" The shriek was loud and desperate, almost like it was Dawnflower's own kit that was missing and in a way, that was what it felt like. Monarchpaw was her sister without a doubt. They might argue and they may have different parents but Dawnflower adored her headstrong little apprentice and couldn't wait to see what she'd do with herself. She felt honored to be mentoring her. "No! Monarchpaw!" NEW energy sang through Dawnflower's veins as if the fire had somehow caught hold of her blood. Abandoning Rapidfire without looking back, Dawnflower leaped back into the river. This time she swam the other way, kicking out toward the ruined territory. Her gaze was set and resolute as she worked her way across, the process slow going since cheetahs weren't natural swimmers. She was not going to accept that Monarchpaw was lost somewhere in those flames, already dead. That wasn't acceptable. Her apprentice was a fighter and she would make sure Monarchpaw lived to fight another day. That was her job as a mentor and as a clanmate and friend. Dawnflower had lost a lot of cats in one day when Sting rose up. She'd lost friends, clanmates, her mentor, her brother. She would not lose someone else. If Monarchpaw was already gone, well, Dawnflower wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing she'd left her apprentice to die alone in this horrid flames. AS soon as her paws hit semi-firm earth, Dawnflower was moving. Her delicate paws danced over scorched grass, kicking up clouds of ash. Streaks of soot painted her pelt and her fur blackened when the flames reared too close. White hot heat surrounded the young warrior but she would not turn away. Not this time. She'd spent her life turning away. The back of her throat cracked and bled with the heat and smoke and her eyes watered from the acidity of the air. It was putrid, cloying in her lungs and clogging her nose. Everything was covered in a haze of darkness with demons of orange light dancing around trying to snag the she-cheetah as she traveled the ruined plains. She tumbled every few feet, tripping on dead carcasses of pray that had been burned alive and dead logs smoldered to cinders that fell to hot pieces when she landed on them. One had burst apart, burning cinders singing her belly before she could save herself. Every time she could afford to pause, she would do so and call out for her apprentice, yelling as loud as her ruined voice would allow. She tasted blood as it rain down her throat but ignored it in favor of seeking her apprentice, mind zeroed in on that one necessity. It seemed impossible though. The plains stretched out, dark and hazy with smoke full of hungry flames and suffocating heat. If Monarchpaw got turned around in the darkness, she could be anywhere. Dawnflower pushed the thought away and kept running, leaping up hills and stumbling on burned paws. Several times she'd approach a lump on the ground, half praying it was Monarchpaw, only to find it was a burned out carcass or a log. Whenever she left those things, she couldn't decide if she was happy or not that her apprentice hadn't been found. GETTING desperate and wavering, body starved for clean air, Dawnflower leaped over a dried up streambed. It was a place where she had trained Monarchpaw once or twice, the area around it all stone and hard-packed earth, perfect for training. Now the earth was hot under her feet but Dawnflower didn't care, she'd nearly lost all feeling in her feet and her head felt so strange that she doubted she'd feel it if someone cut her front leg off. What Dawnflower did see was a mass of fur laying on one of the flat stones. Dragging herself toward it, Dawnflower dropped low as heavy clouds of smoke billowed all around. Spotted fur streaked with soot and ash, a face blackened by the darkness and fur bristled against the heat. MONARCHPAW! PRESSING her nose against Monarchpaw's neck, Dawnflower tried to calm her own panicking heart. A steady thump pressed against her nose in a heavy, slow rhythm. Dawnflower nearly melted to the ground with relief, glancing at Monarchpaw's side to find it rising and falling. Shaking with relief, Dawnflower grabbed Monarchpaw's scruff and grunted with the effort of hauling the apprentice up onto her back. She couldn't do it as neatly as Duskfeather had managed but she got the other she-cat draped across her back well enough to start moving as a cluster of brush exploded into flames not a tail-length away. It was slow going with Monarchpaw on her back but Dawnflower wasn't going to stop. Every few feet a spindly tree or brush would burst into flames and a new wave of white-hot heat would wash over her. Her feet felt detached from the rest of her and her hind leg on the right side throbbed strangely. Her belly where she'd landed on the hot cinders was stinging sharply each time she moved but still she forced one foot in front of the other. The heavy smoke was poisoning her lungs each time she drew a breath, no matter how much she tried to swing her head low to breathe from near the ground. It wasn't working. The world was heat and orange light with a sky of black smoke. Dawnflower's vision wavered and her pawsteps were uneven as she staggered toward where she thought the river was. Everything was getting so hazy that at some points she couldn't really tell if she was even still upright until... SPLASH! THE cold and wet of the river water shocked the daze from the young warrioress. Her paws were in the river. Her head snapped up to see the hazy figures of her clanmates milling around on the opposite bank. Twising her neck to look at the flames behind her, Dawnflower shivered and then looked at Monarchpaw, limp across her shoulders. Craning her neck, Dawnflower pressed her nose to Monarchpaw's singed cheek before she rolled her shoulders, sliding the spotted apprentice from her back. She tried to do it gently but flames snapped not far from them and Dawnflower was shaking as the dregs of adrenaline in her system began to fade out. She wasn't used to this kind of physical strain. Steeling herself, Dawnflower sank her teeth into Monarchpaw's scruff and heaved, slowly hauling her apprentice into the river. It was almost easy while Dawnflower could still touch the river's bottom but once she had to swim, it was clumsy and difficult. Several times her head nearly went under but she refused to let go of Monarchpaw's scruff. Kicking and flailing almost desperately, Dawnflower propelled herself and her apprentice haphazardly across the river. Her lungs burned unbearably and her throat hadn't stopped bleeding. Everything was slipping away, she was losing her grip. Clenching her jaw, Dawnflower gave one last heave and lunged forward, front paws digging into the soft mud at the bottom of the river. TREMBLING from whiskers to tail tip but for once not from fear, Dawnflower hauled Monarchpaw onto the shore before she tumbled over next to her apprentice. Her breathing was shudder and shallow, each breath burning like a branding iron. Her dark eyes were hazy and unfocused. The once soft gold fur was scorched all around her legs and flanks with streaks of soot and ash making her pelt look oily and like it would never be clean again. The once-white fur on her underbelly was black and scorched, angry red burns covering the skin there. Fine trembles ran down her spine and her paws shook on the riverbank. Her ears were ringing strangely and it felt like someone had stuffed her mouth and nose with cotton. She couldn't breathe deeply, could barely breathe at all. Dark brown eyes rolled back and Dawnflower went limp beside Monarchpaw. Tagged;; Mostly Monarchpaw and Rapidfire Words;; 1956 Singing;; "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)" by Alan Jacksin Notes;; </3 [/scrolly]

[alice?!]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/14l682o.jpg] [scrolly:h(188),w(189),sy] She was hurting, at least it seemed like it. The smell of scorched fur was a poignant one, and since miraculously he seemed to have managed not to get caught beneath any serious embers, he assumed Slittedwing had been painfully waiting for him. She tossed him the herbs, and with a look at her eyes and her muttering mouth -- she was probably saying something indignant to him, but over the roar of blood in his ears and the ever-increasing crackling of flames that surrounded them -- it was lost to his ears. "She'll be fine Harepaw." she was gruff with him, once again -- but she didn't know. Didn't know that Monarchpaw probably wouldn't be fine -- had probably done something stupid in the hopes of being a hero, or had decided to come back for him. He knew her mind, well at least he liked to think so, and knew she wouldn't have wandered meekly away when told. "Burned. Everything's Gone." a white hot flash of unexpected pain. All of it? Everything they'd had -- except for these few shriveled and singed bits she'd managed to save? No... oh, no. So young, yet so devastated by the loss of their entire store. All those lives that could have been saved, burnt to little more than lung-clogging grey dust that would only make the problems worse when they had once solved them. Golden eyes squeezed shut tight, willing the panic and sorrow down for however long to took to get Monarchpaw and get away from here. "And if we don't leave now, we'll burn as well." She ran. No doubt slowly for him -- but she still slipped out of his sights occasionally, as he hurried to keep up. The young tom couldn't exactly run -- crippled leg no longer straightened as it should, didn't bend in the proper manner either. The bones were wrong now he supposed -- either way, the best he could do was a medium paced trot-wobble, and even that was slow. The heat behind and on all sides slowly increased, and the sounds of his home being destroyed refused to leave his mind -- just like the indignant tone and look that Goosefeather had once given him for being too meek, or the dying cries of his adopted mother. Things that would never fade from his memories, forever ingrained and causing grief. His paws burned, the ground beneath them baked with the heat of a thousand days -- flames licking at any surface they could reach -- flaming rain fell from the branches that sloped over his head -- dotted his back and flanks with drops of pain and fire. He was slow, and it took them far to long to reach the river. The opposite bank looked almost serene in it's untouched glory, save for the many scents of his clan-mates. He turned back -- eyes skirted over the writhing and boiling of the flames that ate at everything he had ever known. Monarchpaw better have gotten herself out. He almost wanted to wait here -- besides, he couldn't walk properly let alone swim. A surprised and frightened yowl was muffled by his herb-burden as he felt himself being lifted off the ground, and he panicked for a moment swirling his limbs around to try and right himself, and the realized it must have been Slittedwing. No! He couldn't go yet, he didn't know if she was safe -- didn't know if his only family was going to survive -- she was more important, more important than anything to him! Slittedwing yanked his burden from him without so much as a thought, and then he was being prickled by thousands of tiny daggers as he floundered in the shallows, struggling to gather his feet under him. He almost turned in her direction and told her he would wait. Almost. The current decided for him, and after a startled moment of lungs filling with water, he managed to thrash his way into something of a shallow bit. It took nearly all the strength he had to keep himself moving in the right direction, his muscles cramping and seizing as the cold waters forced them to tighten. Claws dug into the soft soil of the bank after what seemed like a millennium of slow painful movement, and he clung there. Desperate to turn back, but knowing that he couldn't make it.. Wouldn't make it. Shouldn't. He scrambled away from the river's icy clutches, and huddled there on the bank, for a moment not realizing he'd drifted quite a bit with his slow progress, and then began to pick his way back up the bank, parallel to where Slittedwing had thrown him. His slight frame was a convulsing mass of cold and panic, eyes wide, though dull looking -- as if he couldn't comprehend what was happening. Dawnflower's screeching wriggled like a startled fish through the fog covering his brain, and he blinked. Slowly -- unresponsively, as if watching the scene play out in his head. She flew past his huddled form -- and Slittedwing as well, as she was no doubt pulling herself from the water as well, and his head followed her movements slowly. His eyes were wide - sides heaving as if he had just survived a long fall. With a sickening slow pace, he turned and followed her track -- watched her slice through the water and dart back into the flames. She was gone within moments. Relief was the first thing he felt, because Dawnflower was going back for her. Despite the vast difference between the two, you would have to be both blind and deaf to not notice the bond that had formed between them. He also knew that regardless of her timid nature, Dawnflower would find Monarchpaw. The thing was -- he didn't want to know about what she would find of Monarchpaw. The second thing he felt, was anger. Irrational yes, because Monarchpaw had probably gone back for some reason she'd deemed important -- maybe even for him. But she was an idiot for it. Completely and utterly mouse-brained. Still facing the river, he bared his teeth. "You Mousebrain!" his screech was one of anger, but saturated with fear and sorrow as well. She was trapped there, and now Dawnflower was threatened as well. He wanted to sit there, wanted to pace back and forth along the banks until he saw two figures emerging from the raging inferno that still continued to grow, but he knew that wouldn't be the case. Before Slittedwing could chastise him, he plodded over to her -- eyes doing nothing to hide the raw emotion within them. That was Monarchpaw's job -- to be the strong one -- Harepaw was the transparent one. "What do you need me to do?" Was that pleading in his voice? A silent plea that he was almost sure she would pick up on, because she was Slittedwing and she noticed all, that she give him something -- anything to distract him from the fact that his sister could possibly be dead at this very moment. Something -- anything, although it would be futile all the same. emo-Harepaw, is not fun, but he has to be cause that's the way he is. Anyway -- not a problem Hatter, doesn't much bother me. "Speech", " Clan-mates Speech" [/scrolly]

[VALACIE]

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[atrb=background,http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i248/Rapta/Animal/rapidfire2-5.jpg] [scrolly:h(222),w(370),sy] He was so relieved she was safe, that for a moment his mind went completely blank. He was acutely aware of the scent of burned fur, the screams of his clanmates, and the effort it took to draw in each pain filled and rattling breath. But most importantly he was aware of how close she'd gotten. Dawnflower pressed up against his chest, closer then anyone had ever really gotten before and if he hadn't known it was her it might have been any other cat. Nobody had a scent in this mess, they all smelled of soot and ash and smoke, they all looked like they'd bathed in dirt and oil. Their golden pelts dirtied beyond recognition. That's what made it feel strange. It was her and yet it wasn't. "We survived," he said in a raspy whisper, so low it was barely audible. He felt like he had to strain just to hear himself. "The clan survives then the camp can come back..." His eyes looked down at the slight cheetah pressed so tightly against him. He felt like poor comfort considering how disheartened he felt himself. Everything was gone, their memories had smoldered to nothing and without their memories what were they? What would they have to go back to, if they even could go back to their home. He supposed it could have been worse, they could have lost more then they had. The bedraggled clan of cheetahs that surrounded them didn't look terribly diminished and there was still hope that no one had gotten killed or seriously injured. But then she said something that made that thin thread of hope snap like a dry twig beneath one's paws. Like a rush of air his mind was thrown back to the moment when the fire had become apparent. Monarchpaw. He'd told her to run. He knew he'd told her, and he'd been sure that she'd left. Or had he? Horror dawned him like a sickness and he backed away suddenly not sure. It was like the smoke and seeped into his brain and was clogging all thought process. Pain flickered across his eyes. "I t-thought she'd left. I'd thought I'd told her..." His words died in his throat and his eyes closed as he shook his head from side to side. He must have been preoccupied when he'd been thinking of what he could do to help. He'd wanted to run into those flames and see if there was anything he could do, not used to thinking for the benefit of an apprentice he'd assumed a straight forward order would be enough. Turning his head around he looked at the Cheetah's that surrounded them and realized that yes, she wasn't there. Somehow, in the confusion he'd left her behind, thinking that she was already safely ahead of him. Looking back at Dawnflower he flinched back from her as she yelled at him. What had he done? Horrified he watched as she sprinted one way and then another before diving into the river. "Dawnflower!" He croaked finding the smoke tattered remains of his voice and finding them wanting. All he managed was a croaked echo of his former self and when he tried to yell again all he managed was a coughing so deep and body shaking that he felt he was going to break apart. Gasping he hacked to try and get the water and smoke he could still feel out of his lungs. His eyes watered with the intensity of the attack but he fought to keep them open as Dawnflower struggled across the river and up the flame engulfed bank. She was going to get herself killed. "Stop Rapidfire..." He chastised mentally. He'd regained his breath but each outtake of air had this raspy quality he didn't like. Somehow he'd waded halfway into the river but he couldn't go any further. His lungs burned and the black smoke loomed above him like a monster, Clogging the air above the far bank and seeping across the river. Not to mention she'd disappeared into that darkness, he'd never find her by the time he'd struggled his way across the water. "Starclan watch over you Rabbit. Please come back..." He'd never felt this way before. Like something inside of him had burned to nothing in the fire. He didn't swim back, he just stood there. In the water, feeling lost and uncertain like he'd felt back at camp. Suddenly the proud Cheetah that had been Rapidfire was lost to the kit who'd seen his mentor strewn across the golden grass. He waited with eyes on the smoke, terrified for a reason he didn't quite understand. When they finally did come back through he almost didn't believe it. He didn't trust the relief he felt to see Dawnflower come out of the smoke with Monarchpaw. Moving to the side he moved along the shore, splashing through water when the shore was too crowded until he felt like he was close to where they were going to cross at. He waited on the shore in nervous apprehension. He didn't get to say anything because both collapsed onto the shore as soon as they'd reached it. Pacing around them he could see both were breathing, though Monarchpaw was doing it somewhat shallowly. Looking up his mismatched eyes search the crowd "Help!" He called, voice cracking into a raspy cough. ———————————— count: 935 tagg: errybodyyy -mostly dawnflower- notes: ehhh took a while. music: ---- [/scrolly]

[` hatter !]

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[atrb=background,http://oi44.tinypic.com/i39duf.jpg] Harepaw floundered in the current, nose and mouth coming dangerously close to the water’s edge. How was he to utilize his leg to the fullest if he was never given a chance to push his limits? Besides, Slittedwing had a more important task ahead: protect the precious herb supply from the damaging, rushing waters. If even an edge of, say, the marigold (which was dried to a flaky paper), was doused in the river’s icy depths, it would be rendered useless until she could manage to dry it out. This, only in a hot sun, could take precious hours that they may not have. With a deep, nettled huff of painful breath, she padded into the forever cold rushing waves, nose tipped back to the heavens, the sweet, sickly honey wrapped in a borage leaf to prevent the sweet syrup from being wasted. Nothing was ever wasted on Slittedwing’s watch. The sound of crackling fire was muffled by the drowning sound of the splashing current as Slittedwing’s paws churned towards the parallel bank, her heart hammering by the sheer adrenaline. Her lean, lithe body bobbed to and fro. Miraculously, no panic leeched into her otherwise calm, perhaps disdainfully discomforted, eyes. In all reality, the medicine cat had crossed this body of water before, invaded LionClan’s territory a multitude of times. Oh, she would do this strategically, once a moon, sometimes less, so patrols wouldn’t notice her quiet comings. It wasn’t as if she stole prey from hungry mouths, no, she merely had spotted a juniper bush only fox-lengths into the lion’s borders. This was a herb, overused by medicine cat’s in the past, that was a difficult find in CheetahClan. And it was a very large, very capable bush indeed. She even doubted the proud, ungrateful clan had even noted the disappearance. Even with her weary limbs, from her recent jaunts through the burning forest floor, the swim was a simple task. The current was no match for her experience. It even comforted her singed burns, like a cooling salve. Oh, the complaining she would hear on the other side. Alas was the job of the medicine cat. Stepping from the river’s banks, shaking her fur out impatiently, Slittedwing’s keen eyes took inventory over the mottled crew of cheetahs. It seemed as if most of the burns were surface stains- that is, merely a small step up from mere sunburn. The smoke inhalation would be a larger problem, with a potential to cause coughing for weeks after, even eat away at the fine clan’s lungs if not soothed. With an approving nod, she recognized Harepaw’s defining limp, mingling with the shaken members of CheetahClan. Oh good, so she didn’t have to climb back into the waiting river after all. The she-cheetah spat the clogging herbs, cradled in her expert mouth, onto the grassy, pampas ground, just as Dawnflower barrelled past her. Monarchpaw, the good-for-nothing kit had managed to fall behind. Attention-whore, always putting others in danger by her sheer foolishness. That cat would die before she became a warrior, at this rate. In a wave of frustration, Slittedwing hissed, lashing out at the wiry warrior on the way by, and opening her mouth to tear a furious yowl. “You idiot- it’s suicide!” And by all means, it was. The grasslands were now a wasteland, filled with booby traps and heat waves. Slittedwing shook her head in confoundedness. Monarchpaw’s mentor was one of fear. The thing was terrified of her own shadow. To think she would return t her deepest nightmare to rescue an apprentice that was bound to perish eventually; it was brave. Stupid, very, very stupid, but brave. Emotions over-ruling judgement- never again would Slittedwing be pawed over by this, not anymore. Hardened by moons, the medicine cat turned away from the riverside, accepting the fate of the two cheetahs. So be it. Their decisions were final. To her credit, Harepaw’s face did manage to unleash a ripple of grief. Brat or not, the she-cat was his sister. Slittedwing had watched them grow up together, though if her sibling ever treated her as such, it was quite likely she would rip their heart out. Beginning to sort through the half-torn herbs, she only glanced up once at Harepaw as he approached her, refocusing on her work only a moment later. Her dark-coloured gaze preferred not to focus on the raw, agonized look in her apprentice’s open as a book eyes. Her strength and resolve may sway, and this was certainly not the time. She would emit an air of calm understanding, as she did tend to wear as she worked around her clan mates. Her tone was brisk, clipped, and to the point. “Find me a clump of thyme- it shouldn’t be too far. The scent is impossible to miss.” Why yes, she was completely sure of this. It was a short walk of around a tree-length. She should know, during a shortage the wily cat had borrowed the leafy, mint-green foliage. The warrior code- it was only a guide, really. “Give around three leaves to each cat.” It really didn’t matter if Harepaw was aware of what the sticky leaves really did (which, mind you, was curing the anxiety and panic that was sure to be aroused when they begun to realize the severity of this disaster), though Slittedwing would bet that he did. A keen memory, that one, though lacking real drive. Without another word, with her able jaws clamped around the honey, she deftly began evenly distributing the throat-soothing substance. In all honesty, she doubted Dawnflower and Monarchpaw would even return; but return they did, with the burn mark to prove it. She couldn’t deny the lift of joy in her chest, though she wasted no time in approaching the two, assessing the damage and occasionally clucking her tongue in disapproval. All preventable, if Monarchpaw could listen when she was told. At Rapidfire’s hovering, she waved her tail in annoyance, baring an ivory fang in his direction, a silent warning to leave her be. Her usually harsh, strong voice was now raspy by smoke damage, therefore she kept her sharp comments to herself. It seemed as though Dawnflower had taken the brute of the crispy skin, looking like a mangy piece of crow food in streaks of soot and ash. Blood upon opening the warrior’s maw. Second-degree burns. Shallow breathing from both. At that moment, no cat could ever deny that she was a medicine cat, with her sureness and mild expression. While most cats would rush this, she knew she had enough time. Slow and steady won the race this time around. “Harepaw, come.” Not a request, an order. “Watch what I do- repeat on your sister.” Also not a request, a statement. Using a hollowed out strip of elm, she carefully retrieved a puddle of water from the lapping shore at her feet, cleansing the burned area with precision to reveal the red, angry skin underneath. Marigold, now chewed into a very neat poultice, was cleanly smoothed onto Dawnflower’s underbelly, her back, and her limbs; breeding grounds for the bacteria that could cause nasty infections. Mild burns didn’t kill; infection, on the other hand, did. All things Slittedwing had learned from the one definite thing: death. The light flowers would halt it. With movements as swift as a scuttling mouse, she drifted to the juniper berry bush, plucking four from the slender stalks and not-so gently popping the scarlet fruit into the two motionless cat’s mouths. This was known to regulate breathing and was followed with a dosage of sickly sweet honey. Deja vu- how the cheetah knew what to do so immediately. This wasn’t her first rodeo. Twisting paws pulled the healing juices of the aloe vera and this she dribbled conservatively, ready for the soothing effect to take hold; which, mind you, it did only moments later, the blisters dying down slightly and the red fading to a less vibrant shade. As if to tell Harepaw to get his arse in gear, she looked at him sideways, narrowing her eyes and giving a slight nod. Secretly, deep in her mind, she smiled at Dawnflower, proud. Finally, oh finally, she had overcome a small section of her deep-rooted fears. Maybe Monarchpaw was good for something. A glance at Dawnflower’s puckered burns and shallow breathing. Or maybe not. Bleakness, hunger, depression, homelessness. Slittedwing shuddered; LionClan. Refuge, there was no longer prey on their territory, no place to call home. They would rest for an hour, only an hour, and then they would have no choice to wander into LionClan’s camp- beg for shelter. StarClan, the king of cruel and unusual punishment. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - cheetahclan TAGGED 1435 WORDS this post feels ughuhuha NOTES meh MUSE