a date with the heavens [bast/closed]

[jinxeh ఇ]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/2nss6lh.jpg] [scrolly:h(461),w(285),sy] It was a spur of the moment decision when the tom cat decided he wanted to make the journey through the land to the Starcavern on his own. After addressing the Clan about Sparrowstar, and naming his new deputy, he had curtly dismissed himself and without going to his new den, he walked out of the camp. He couldn't sleep in that den, not so soon after Sparrowstar stepping down as leader, he wouldn't have felt right. That was only a minuscule reason as to why he had left the camp so quickly after the meeting, the major one being he didn't want to have to answer questions about Sparrowstar. It was for the sole reason that he had no idea what he would tell her; he was starved for knowledge just as much as he suspected they were. No, he wouldn't stay in camp that night, sleep wouldn't greet him warmly any ways. Crimsonfire was excited now, more than anything. He didn't even care that much any more that he was so young. He had to trust that Sparrowstar trusted him, and that was why she was comfortable stepping down. It was that thought, and the thought of how proud his father would be, which to his great pleasure was one of the first to arrive when he made the call. Crimsonfire had used almost all his strength to keep his eyes from darting to his father as he spoke, and the rest to avoid looking at Snowstorm who still looked two shades shy of dead. No, he had kept his eyes bouncing from cat to cat, glancing every now and then to his mother who's face was solemn, but happiness danced in her beautiful orange eyes. He let his eyes float over to his mentor, Skyfire who looked more pleased than his own father, and felt truly grateful for having had him for a mentor. And now, he here was, alone on his way to the Starcavern to speak with StarClan. Breaking through the under brush, he came out of TigerClan territory and stepped over the scent barrier and onto the lands of LionClan. As soon as his paws struck the rocky terrain every hair on his large muscular body stood up in protest against the strange land and smells that were surrounding him. He didn't like it here, it was much too open for his liking and the few moments he had wandered through made him miss his home territory. Tensing his muscles up against how uncomfortable he was, he secretly prayed that he would be greeted by a LionClan patrol so that he could announce to them that he was making his journey to StarClan to gain his nine lives. The thought made him feel giddy and he couldn't help but giggle, a noise that was definitely weird coming from him. The smell of LionClan became strong once again, and he knew he was reaching the other border, and was getting much closer to his destination. A grin broke out over his face and once he was over the border and in CheetahClan territory, it was a only a short ways until he would be on the path leading to the Starcavern. The only reason he knew where he was going was he had talked to the pale medicine cat before hand and gotten her to tell her the directions to it. Based on the land markings he was heading in the right directions, which was very comforting for him. Sighing heavily, he stopped and looked around CheetahClan territory. He had never set foot on their land before, but he liked it about as much as he liked LionClan. From his vantage point, all he could see was prairie land, no trees at all. It was disconcerting, even more so than LionClan. He shivered, before continuing on his way, picking up his pace to get off the land as soon as possible. Once his paws stopped on the cold rock, he felt the nerves. Crimsonfire had long since left the prairies lands of the cheetahs, and just like Goldenlight had said, he was at the mouth of the tunnel leading down to Starcavern. The nerves had struck him like a steal club, winding him and forcing him to stop. What would happen? Who would he see? What would it be like? What if they didn't deem him worthy? Okay, he wasn't worried about that last thing. Crimsonfire was sure he was worthy, he was an able bodied warrior and in his opinion the best in the Clan, so that wouldn't be a problem. But the other worries, those were starting to eat away at his certainty in the whole situation. Looking around nervously, he noticed that the sun was just barely above the horizon, and the silhouette of the moon could be seen in the sky above him. It's now or never Crimsonfire. With a deep breath, he made the descent down the black tunnel to the pool. It was beautiful! He couldn't stop himself from gasping at the pattern of starlight on the shimmering water, it was mesmerizing and it drew him in. He stared around in awe of the cavern, before letting his body sink down to the ground. For a few moments he continued to look around, before letting his head fall to his paws and closing his eyes to the beauty of the cavern around him. Soon he was asleep and he remained in limbo for a few minutes before he awoke in a area filled with stars. Crimsonfire shuffled his paws nervously, and with anticipation, hoping he would see StarClan and not NightClan... words [959] tags [starclan] muse [crappy] notes listening to [cyanide sweet tooth suicide - shinedown] [/scrolly]

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10qb0k1.jpg] [scrolly:h(910),w(460),sy] FOR a while, the forest Crimsonfire was around was still and quiet like a grave. All at once, eyes came to light in the forest. All shades of amber from light honey to hot red glowed out of the shadows mixed in with varying shades of cool blues from the shade of the summer sky to the color of winter's first frost. Tiger eyes, the ancestors of TigerClan, gazed out at the newest leader-to-be. All judging and yet impassive, bodies hidden in the darkness. The trees waved their branches, rattling up a chorus with the quaking leaves. With each passing moment the eyes of TigerClan grew brighter and the leaves rattled louder until, suddenly, it all stopped. The eyes vanished, the leaves kept moving but the sound of their rattling was gone. FROM the darkness of StarClan's nighttime forest stepped a sleek young tigress. Starlight rippled across her pelt and the moon was reflected in calm amber eyes the color of fresh honey. She was not a large tigress, small and lithe and swift in appearance. Strong muscles rippled smoothly under her neatly striped orange pelt, turned pale by the moon's eternal gleam. Around her, as she stepped silently across the ground, the trees swayed silently in a breeze no one could feel, simply waving at her passing. She had the air of innocence all about her, the air of one that had died young and come to StarClan with her mind free of hate or fear or disgust for others. Compared to Crimsonfire's vivid scarlet pelt, her pelt was a lighter shade of orange marked neatly around the face with white. All in all she was simply lovely and young like a spring flower that had just bloomed. HER name was Honeypoppy, slain in her youth just after becoming a warrior. WHEN she was near enough, the young tigress reclined on her haunches and curled her tail neatly around her paws. Her placid golden gaze rested upon Crimsonfire, lit with fondness. A small smile made her whiskers twitch. "Greetings Crimsonfire. It has been quite a while, my friend." Her voice was soft and sweet, like a springtime breeze, reassuring and calm. In her life, Honeypoppy had been a fine huntress and the envy of many in TigerClan, known as a hard worker despite her delicate features. She had also been one of the few able to withstand Crimsonfire's sharp tongue and touchy temper during the moons he was known simply as Crimsonpaw. They had never had a romantic relationship but Honeypoppy had always fondly thought of him as the brother she had never had, having been the only kit in her litter. To see him standing before her, ready to become one of TigerClan's youngest leaders, it filled her with great pride but also great worry. Being a leader was no easy task and it would tax Crimsonfire to his limits. She was not blind to TigerClan's recent plights. They struggled with the loss of Sparrowstar and the crippling disappointment at her weakness. They wondered and questioned if Crimsonfire would be strong enough to lead them through these darkened times when the elders muttered of StarClan judging TigerClan cruelly. The test that stood before Crimsonfire would be the true test of his endurance and his determination to do right by TigerClan where Sparrowstar had failed so horribly. "EIGHT will walk in my pawsteps and with each passing you will receive a life that will allow you to guide TigerClan in all the ways your predecessor could not." RISING fluidly she crossed the space between her and Crimsonfire until she stood nearly nose to nose with him. She was barely shorter than he. "With this life, I grant you the tireless energy to serve your clan in times of crisis and stand strong beside her when she is weak. Always remember, StarClan runs beside you." LEANING forward, the gentle young she-cat's pink nose ghosted over Crimsonfire's brow. It was barely a touch, light as a feather. Each life a leader recieved felt differently. Some hurt like a thousand claws tearing your pelt while others were like an iron fist around your heart. In the end they were truly a trying experience, a test of endurance and faith on the part of the leader-to-be. The life Honeypoppy granted her old friend would feel as though he were being struck by lightning, filled to the brim with all the energy of the lightning but with no way to let it out. The friend Honeypoppy remembered was a cat of great strength and she knew that, though it would hurt, Crimsonfire would stand strong and become Crimsonstar by the time it was all said and done. She had faith in him, just as all his ancestors did. He would stand tall where Sparrowstar had quaked and fallen. STEPPING back, Honeypoppy watched as Crimsonfire absorbed the life, pain in his eyes and shivering down his spine. With a small ghost of a smile and a nod of her head, the young tigress faded. Her figure faded gradually into silver stardust and vanished, leaving the tom to wait for the next to grant him a life. Tagged;; Crimsonfire Words;; 875 Singing;; NA Notes;; hope you don't mind the persona i gave her [/scrolly]

[jinxeh ఇ]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/2nss6lh.jpg] [scrolly:h(461),w(285),sy] Topaz crystals took in his surroundings, letting the still air of night wash over his body, and his mind. The forest was still, not a colour insight and the one feeling that touched him was how safe he felt. There was no fear in his mind, only peace and safety. For being a haven for dead cats, this place was beautiful. His eyes couldn't stop moving, waiting for something to jump out and steal his attention away from the stillness of the world, or sky, or whatever place he was in. It felt like he stood in the same spot for what seemed like ages with nothing but the sound of his own heart beat thumping in his ears with anticipation for what was to come. He was alone, but he didn't feel lonely, something he wasn't used to. A warm feeling burst out over him as the heavens and stars around came alive him. StarClan burst into a beautiful chaos before his eyes and his mouth dropped open in disbelief. Brilliant shades of red, and yellows were mingling with the soft glows of the stars and the trees began to sway and the leaves made a soft rustling sound. Crimsonfire couldn't do anything but stand there dumbfounded by what was unfolding in front of his very eyes. However, it came to a stop almost as quickly as it had started, and he was plunged into darkness once again, but a new scent hung on the air, one that he was quite familiar with and he felt his heart skip a beat once he recognized it and seen the silhouette of the young she-cat approach him. She was shrouded in a pelt of stars, but he knew who she was, without any doubt. He remembered sitting with his apprentice by her body while her spirit took flight to StarClan. Feeling a lump rise in her throat, the closer she got to him, he wanted nothing but to reach out and touch her with his paw, to make sure that he was not just seeing things. When she sat down, his vision blurred with the tears and he realized just how much he had missed the she-cat. "Honeypoppy." The name rolled off his tongue, almost inaudible, a very light whisper. Her voice was strong, sure of herself, just like he remembered it to be. Strong, and beautiful just like she was. Crimsonfire had not been overly friendly with the she-cat, but he knew that she could be trusted and from that they had built a bond, and his heart ached knowing that she was only here to grant him a life. He smiled at her, a sad smile, one that spoke the feelings he had jumbled up within him. Crimsonfire met her gaze with his own, the pools of water gone from them and held it, not wanting to look away. Not wanting to talk and ruin the moment, he merely nodded at her words. Hearing her speak of Sparrowstar, in a less than perfect context, lifted his spirits. He knew he would be better leader than she had been, he was stronger and smarter, and confident, everything that she wasn't. Setting his jaw, he did not let his eyes leave her face as she gracefully removed the space between the two tigers. The scent of her grew stronger as she approached and spoke once again, this time his stomach twisting with an even greater feeling than before. He was about to receive his first life and the excitement that was boiling within him made his body shiver. Closing his eyes as she leaned forward, he felt her nose touch forehead, but only for a moment. A breath later and his eyes shot open and screamed of the pain that began to cut through his body, a thousand scalding hot claws ripping through his flesh and muscles, down to the very bones that supported his strong frame. Never before in his life had felt pain this intense, this clear, this thorough. His body became hot, and he wanted to yowl, in protest at what he wad going through but he could not utter a sound. The young toms legs buckled from the intensity and he writhed on the ground, his eyes now shut so tight he was seeing stars on his eye lids. Lips curled back and teeth clenched he felt the fiery pain pulse one more time, igniting every nerve from his nose to the tip of his tail before it began to subside. Breathing heavily, he remained on the ground, not wanting to move, but to just lay there and never get up again. But soon, there was no pain, no trace of the fire that had invaded his powerful body and opened his eyes to the forest around him. Slowly moving his legs and paws to a position that could support his body, he rose to his full height and looked around for Honeypoppy, but she was gone. He was alone again, in a forest that he now knew could put him through hell. However, rather than feeling lie it wasn't worth the pain, Crimsonfire sat down, wrapped his tail tightly around his paws and waited impatiently for his next life. After what he just felt, he knew he could handle anything that StarClan could throw at him, or anyone else for that matter. With a set jaw and focused eyes, Crimsonfire gazed into the forest in which Honeypoppy had appeared from and searched for any other signs of movements, wondering who else he would see. words [937] tags [StarClan] muse [alright] notes [that's actually exactly how I pictured her -huggles-] listening to [nothing] [/scrolly]

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10qb0k1.jpg] [scrolly:h(910),w(460),sy] SLIDING through the starlit forest came an unexpected creature. Not a heavy-footed tiger, but instead a soft-stepping leopardess. Moonlight glimmered off of lush silver fur. The way her muscles rippled under her pelt, it looked like quicksilver, ever changing and as smooth as a rippling stream's flow. Her steps were silent, yellow eyes as bright as twin autumn moons. Her tail, bushy and soft as a feather twitched slowly to and fro as she approached. Bright eyes fell on the waiting ginger tiger. It was unconventional by most standards, a sleek, dangerous former member of LeopardClan sliding through the forest toward a TigerClan leader-to-be. She moved as silently as a shadow with the fluidity of water, strides firm and measured, confidence in every step. Being shy or subtle had never necessarily been her style. PADDING into the clearing, moonlight cascaded over her dappled silver form. Cunning yellow eyes regarded Crimsonfire with something akin to snide amusement. Dawncry never had been Crimsonfire's biggest fan. She had often clashed with the big brute and had gone as far as to die at his claws during a battle between LeopardClan and TigerClan. Odd that she would be chosen to present the new leader with his second life. StarClan, one was quick to find, did not use the same logic as the rest of the mortal clans. Those you slayed in life, often taught lessons that you didn't understand. In death, under the unending starlight of the ancestor clan, the deceased would teach the lessons no one had heard in life. That was Dawncry's mission tonight, to teach Crimsonfire what he had failed to learn thus far. Personally she scoffed at the idea but was willing to give it a shot for the sake of her clan. StarClan, not LeopardClan. In death the clans came together as one, no more divided by pelts and borders and petty feuds. STOPPING a fair distance from the ginger brute, Dawncry's snide smirk grew. Keeping fair distance between them, she strode lazily in a circle around the tom. Luminous yellow eyes raked up and down his form, taking in the stripes and new scars and growth that had happened since her death. At last she came to a stop right where she had started and reclined on her haunches. Her fluffy dappled tail curled lazily around her side to rest at her paws, the tip curling upward slightly and twitching from time to time. "WELL, well, well," Dawncry purred in a simpering voice. "Look what the cat dragged in." Laughing to herself, she locked her pale yellow gaze on Crimsonfire,looking him dead in the eye for the first time since she had entered the clearing. "Well, I supposed we'd best get right to it," she drawled boredly, tail uncurling to swish behind her like a silver serpent over the dark grass. IN life, Dawncry had never been a soft she-cat, not like StarClan made her look. She had been as tough as a weathered stone and as sharp as a nail. Dawncry had never been the type to be coddled or let anyone else protect her. She had always stood tall with her head held high and glaring down anyone that tried to contest her decisions. She had been an immovable force, but at the same time had been a force of nature all her own. There had been no contesting her when she set her mind to something, be it a rivalry or clan matter of some sort. Her clanmates had respected her quite a bit because she had always stood tall no matter what shape LeopardClan was in. She had felt no shame and shown weakness to her enemies. Her body had been crisscrossed with scars of all sorts from the scraps, fights and battles she partook in during her life. Under the light of StarClan, the scars were washed from her body like dirt from someone's pelt. In a way, they made her look unnatural, not herself because instead of appearing rough and toughened by life, she looked soft and young and fresh. WHERE scars had marred her pelt and made it uneven and almost patchy in appearance, it was now feathery and soft like bird down. She looked healthy and vital in a way she almost never had during her life since at the time, LeopardClan had been in rough shape with bad weather, droughts and low amounts of prey for a majority of her life. Where in life she had appeared rough and dangerous in the way of many jagged rocks, she now looked dangerous in the way of a sleek silver viper slinking through the grass. She refused to look soft though, not in the way most StarClanners did. Most of them looked softened with wisdom and cloaked in their mystery so much so that it was impossible to believe that mere moons ago some of them had been alive and struggling through a clan's daily life. Not Dawncry. Her wisdom and mystery slithered, snapped and crackled all around her like burning silver fire, fierce and sharp and unkind but oh so beautiful. STANDING up, Dawncry strode toward the ginger tom until she stood a tail-length away from him. Behind her, her tail waved too and fro in an almost bored fashion as she regarded the tom before her. "With this life, I give you determination to fight any darkness and face any enemy with claws unsheathed and heart free of hesitation," Dawncry declared, her voice solemn and serious in a way it almost never had been during her living days, especially around cats like Crimsonfire whom were viewed as enemies. They had always heard the venomous barb rolling off her tongue but now she was stiff and formal. "Use this life to stand up for what you believe is truly right and burn brighter than any other star in the sky." LEAPING from the LeopardClan warrioress was what looked like an arc of silver lightning, striking Crimsonfire's brow, directly between his eyes as his amber eyes closed. Dawncry waited until he was able to open his eyes again, just in time to see her explode into silver fire and vanish. In her place, glowing out of the darkness were a pair of icy pale blue eyes as the next StarClanner awaited Crimsonfire's recovery to approach with the next life. Tagged;; Crimsonfire Words;; 1070 Singing;; NA Notes;; dunno about you but i like dawncry xD [/scrolly]

[jinxeh ఇ]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/2nss6lh.jpg] [scrolly:h(461),w(285),sy] Patience is a virtue, something that he had not yet harnessed in his twenty one moons of life in TigerClan. Waiting for anything caused him to grow impatient and anxious, his paws never unmoving, his mind never racing and his body never ceasing to itch for movement. It seemed that even in a place as peaceful as StarClan, his lack of patience was still something that would get the better of him. As he waited for the next life to approach, he thought back to seeing Honeypoppy, looking upon her pelt, into her eyes and smelling her sweet scent, just like he had done when she was alive, before she was taken from the Clan unexpectedly. A pang struck his heart and he tried to push her memory from his mind, but her smell still hung in the calm, moving forest around him. The stars seemed to be littered with her face, one that he would never forget, and his gaze flickered from star to star until movement from within the forest caught his attention and he forgot about Honeypoppy, and the life of the forest. Furrowing his brow at the figure approaching, he was confused as to who was coming. The frame of the cat was too dainty to be a tiger, but not clumsy enough to be a lion. It had to be a cheetah or a leopard, however it didn't make sense to him. Why would an enemy Clan be coming to give him a life? Rising to his paws, he cocked his head to the side as the figure approached, the closer she got the more distinct her body shape became and the realization set in. He knew this leopard, he knew her very well, but he couldn't say he particularly liked her. They had never gotten along, which wasn't exactly surprising but she was also not easy to get along with. Demanding, overpowering and all around aggressive, Dawncry was one of his least favourite cats in the world, and he could say with all his heart that he detested her existence, even in death. Crimsonfire had worked hard to bloc out the reason for her death, not fond of the way she had died. It hadn't been on purpose, but he had been young, naive, unaware of his own strength, and he had snapped her neck killing her instantly. He was ashamed of her downfall, he had never bragged about the incident and even now, he found himself unable to meet her eyes chilling gaze. Tail twitched irritably behind him as she circled him at a pace slower than an elders, he kept his eyes on the ground waiting for her to stop. She was doing this on purpose, aggravating him, she had been good at it in life and it seemed like she had not lost the ability to drive him to near insanity with her cocky, overbearing demeanour that she wore so well. When she finally came to a stop, he forced himself to look her in the eyes, locking his fiery eyes full of distaste for her, with her cold, amused ones. Feeling a rumble in his chest, he let his lip curl slightly, as she spoke, not able to let their hatred for each other in life subside, after all, she was a cat of StarClan. No, he wouldn't let it go, despite his shame in having ended her life. When she finished talking, Crimsonfire stood up tall, his ears slightly back, easily towering over the leopardess, and cast his gaze down at her, ready for whatever she could throw his way. Between speaking, and actually acting on them, he studied her. Like Honeypoppy, she showed no signs of the rough life she had lived as a LeopardClan warrior, but only the undisrupted beauty of a queen. He let himself smirk at her appearance. Upon her approach, Crimsonfire let his head lower slightly, so it was at her height, now knowing what was to come. She needed to be able to touch him, and she was too small to reach that high. Crimsonfire let her words wash over him, ignoring her tone, only focusing on what she had to say. Determination, fight... Attributes he had perfected over his years. Nodding as she finished speaking, this time he kept his eyes open as she got closer to him, the smell of LeopardClan raking through his senses and sparking his longing to fight against an enemy. However, he never felt her get so close that they touched and confusion caused him to open his eyes and as he did, he noticed a jagged flash burst from her body and as soon as it did, he felt it course through his head. A roar came in response to the pain and his eyes shut against it, but his body did no collapse against the pain. Lips curled, and ears back, the pain only lasted a few moments, unlike the last life and he was soon able to open his eyes just to see Dawncry's smug expression before she evaporated into the abyss that was StarClan. This time, Crimsonfire did not let himself get comfortable, he stayed on his feet, standing tall. He refused to show weakness to the upcoming StarClan cats, he was now prepared for whatever they would give him. words [893] tags [StarClan] muse [lousy] notes [^^] listening to [nothing] [/scrolly]

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10qb0k1.jpg] [scrolly:h(910),w(460),sy] AS starlight twinkled harmlessly overhead, the shadows of StarClan’s great forest began to move. They writhed uneasily and began to take shape. They pulled apart from the trees and undergrowth they festered in, taking the shape of a skinny male tiger. He was a most unusual tiger, more rare than any blue Maltese tiger or pale golden tabby. He was a dark inky gray with nearly invisible black stripes running along his sides and legs. White fur appeared to accent his cheeks as he slid from the undergrowth on silent paws. Eyes a far paler blue than any living tiger’s regarded the fiery deputy before him as he took slow steps forward. For all the cats before him, starlight and moonbeams had danced over their pelts while light shone in their eyes from the wisdom of their deaths. Not for this tom. Not for Crowfire. The light of the night was absorbed by his dark pelt, making it shimmer with all the subtly of a crow or raven’s feather, the shimmer seen only at close range by keen observing eyes. He was a thin but attractive male, despite his oddness, tall and narrow in build unlike his bulkier companion. Despite his slightly smaller size, Crowfire’s head was held high as he approached Crimsonfire. HE remembered the ginger cat well. Crimsonfire had been a young upstart of an apprentice when Crowfire had known him, out to make trouble and in general just raise a fuss. Crowfire had never been fond of those that could not back up their bragging with action and had often challenged Crimsonfire. Sometimes the tom rose to the occasion, other times Crowfire had been the victorious one. In general, he had had little patience for the younger warrior, finding him cocky and untried and had quickly grown tired of Crimsonfire’s snipes about Crowfire’s size and odd coloring. Still, despite their animosity toward one another, here he was, striding toward the leader to be with a lesson to teach and a life to give because no matter what, Crowfire was a former clanmate of the new TigerClan leader and he had tried in his own way to teach Crimsonfire. The lesson he had had to teach, Crimsonfire has lost in life but this was Crowfire’s chance to teach it again. Perhaps with a little more impact this time, of course. “ALWAYS had to make a fuss about yourself didn’t you, Crimsonfire?” Crowfire said, his voice silky and smooth. THE cat Crimsonfire had known in life had been roughened and sharp, his tongue barbed and anger quick to take light. This cat was cool and collected, smooth and sleek with all the ease of a cat that knew exactly where he stood in the world. He met Crimsonfire’s hot amber gaze with contesting coolness in his pale, pale blue eyes, eyes so light they were nearly white. Crowfire strode closer to the leader-to-be and stood before him for the first time ever without his claws unsheathed. He had to tip his head back just slightly to look Crimsonfire in the eye but if it bothered him, the StarClanner showed no such feeling on his face. “ALWAYS strutting around like you were better than the rest, claiming you knew best when your elders and betters were within earshot,” Crowfire went on, his voice slightly snide but otherwise still smooth and easy. Behind him, his black tail swished back and forth in an almost lazy manner. “Well kit, it’s time someone straightened you out. As you are now, so angry and arrogant, you will destroy your clan within a moon.” Crowfire’s pale eyes took a sharp cast to them. “With this life, I give you judgment, to know when to bow to your elders, to know when to hold your head high, to know when to fight and to know when to flee. Not every battle must be won and not every life can be saved but it’s not your job to be the best. It’s your job to learn from those older and smarter for the good of your clan.” IT was unlikely that Crimsonfire, of all cats, would ever put two and two together but Crowfire was an ancestor of Snowstorm, an uncle to Iceflower. The pale eyes had been sort of a dominant trait in their family, along with the reserved natures. Always Crowfire had had to be shown someone was capable before bothering to follow, contesting every leader and deputy he had the misfortune of dealing with until the day he died, choking on his own blood when he was caught under a falling tree branch during a horrible storm. The branch had crushed his ribs and lungs, suffocating him to death when he’d been out patrolling. The cat he had been patrolling with had been Snowstorm’s father, Whiteheart, around the time Snowstorm had become a warrior. Crimsonfire of course had still been only an apprentice at Crowfire’s passing and probably didn’t even remember much of him other than his odd coat and habit of making Crimsonfire back up his cocky attitude. Crowfire found it amusing that Crimsonfire contested him so often in life and continued to do so through Crowfire’s only surviving kin, TigerClan’s resident loner. Of course, the leader would never figure it out. Crowfire had been an oddity at birth, born in a litter of white-pelted kits with a pelt as dark as coal. Crowfire could only hope through cats like the quieter of TigerClan, Petaldawn and Snowstorm and those like them, that Crimsonfire’s impulsive attitude could be curbed. LEANING forward, the dark tom brushed his dusky pink nose against the ginger tom’s forehead between his eyes, willing forward a life of good judgment. Like a crow made of thick white mist, it rushed forward toward Crimsonfire, wrapping the deputy in its wings, encasing him in the life before dissipating, leaving the leader to the pain of absorbing the life. Crowfire himself seemed to fall to pieces in the form of black feathers that rolled silently across the grass as thought caught in an unfelt wind. Tagged;; Crimsonfire Words;; 1012 Singing;; NA Notes;; i couldn't resist, crowfire just kept sounding so much like snowy... [/scrolly]

[jinxeh ఇ]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/2nss6lh.jpg] [scrolly:h(461),w(285),sy] It was amazing what a body could take if they set their mind to it. Crimsonfire had just felt the worst pain he had ever felt in his whole entire life and he was still ready, and waiting for more. He began racking his brains about who would appear next, and he hoped that it would be somebody nice, somebody he liked, unlike Dawncry. A shiver of hatred raced down his spine, and instead of growling at the feeling, he merely sighed, not in mood to release his anger in the usual way. Being mad all the time was tiring for those who were all the time. But now, his mind was swimming with the lives he had been given and the meanings behind them, if there were any. He was certain there was more to it than just what they had told him, but his mind was too jumbled to work anything out. Peering into the forest where the other cats had came from he focused on yet another figure coming towards him. This is kind of repetitive. He thought to himself with a light hearted chuckle until he recognized who the creature was that approaching him. He knew it was a tiger, there was no doubt about that. But that wasn't why he recognized the cat, no he remembered the way the cat used to saunter around camp, much like he either had the weight of the world on his shoulders or a storm cloud draped over his head and thoughts. His heart dropped, he didn't like this cat, not one bit. He kind of creeped the large golden brute out to be honest. Just the way he had spoke, the way he had looked around the camp like everyone was out to get him. They had never gotten along, always butting heads, never seeing eye to eye, of course Crimsonfire never really thought much of it, but now that he was approaching with the swagger of an old cat, he suddenly became very conscious of the relationship the two had shared. Swallowing the discomfort that had began to grope his body, he looked the old tom in the eye. "I am a proud cat, Crowfire. I am not a afraid to show it to those below me." It's better to be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. Crimsonfire's tone was without much inflection, only emphasizing the word below. Wincing as the cat got closer to him and called him kit, Crimsonfire's tail flicked behind him slowly, trying to calm himself and remove everything that he was feeling. Even in death Crowfire gave the leader to be the heeby jeebys. It was just something about the way he cared himself, maybe it was because the young tom was intimidated, and maybe it was because Crimsonfire just didn't like him, either way, the tom wasn't comfortable with being this close to the tom once again. Crimsonfire, however, listened to his words, more closely than the other two cats and with greater acceptance of them. Despite everything, Crimsonfire had a great respect for the tiger. Noticing the intensity in the deceased toms eyes, his ear flicked back in an even more increased sense of discomfort. His eyes reminded him of Snowstorm, and the way they had looked at him with cold dislike, even when he was on the brink of death. The last of the toms words also made him think of Snowstorm and how downright rude he had been to the older tom. Shoving that thought from his mind, Crimsonfire nodded his head in acknowledge of the life that the tom was giving him, and he waited for the pain to come. His body was soon engulfed in a dull ache, radiating through everyone of his bones, bouncing off of his nerves and tweaking his muscles. Claws unsheathing and digging into the starry forest floor for support, he felt his muscles spasm under his pelt, sending jolts through the rest of his body. The throbbing did not cease for a very long time, his body being played like a harp, every note and string being touched, and strummed. It was suiting however, that the life for judgement would take the most time and the most out of him. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that he did not have the best perception when it came to predicaments, or trivial things and that he let his anger get in the way of his decisions. If anything, he knew that this life would be the most useful one he had received so far. Breathing heavily, he continued to feel the affects of the life on his muscular frame. words [793] tags [StarClan] muse [lousy] notes [Bast.. I'm so sorry, these posts suck xD] listening to [nothing]

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[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10qb0k1.jpg] [scrolly:h(910),w(460),sy] CRIMSONFIRE didn’t have to wait long for StarClan’s next messenger. She appeared in the blink of an eye. One moment he was alone in the starry clearing and the next, simply not. Out of thin air a tigress, young and beautiful appeared sitting serenely with her paws neatly together and tail curled around her side. She was not a pure, snowy white like the average white tiger. Instead she had a faintly gray cast to her giving her an almost ashy, dusty coloration for the base of her pelt. Under the moon’s glow it shone a sleek silver like a falcon’s feather. Neat black stripes the color of pure ebony or polished onyx traced their way down her sides like rivulets of black ink had dried on her pelt long ago and simply never faded. She was slight as far as tigresses went, not particularly tall but thin of frame while maintaining her average height. Kind eyes glowed a soft, gentle yellow like the sun on a spring day, all adoration and gentility. HER name was Fernheart, a former queen of TigerClan. In life she had birthed three litters of kits, dying during the third birthing. From her second litter, her only daughter from that litter had become Crimsonfire’s apprentice. Her name was Frostwind and she was carefully guarded by her deceased mother. During her life, Fernheart had been regarded as one of the most loving cats to ever pass through TigerClan. She was an attentive mother and supportive mate, an upstanding member of the clan and supportive of the five children she had given birth to. Five of them still lived in fact, the two litters she’d birthed before her death. The third litter, well, that was what made Fernheart unique. MOST cats Crimsonfire had seen this night had been alone, ghosts drifting into this clearing mostly by happenstance rather than true design, seeing the leader to be and deciding to teach him a lesson while they could. Fernheart had come here on purpose, and not alone. Sitting on either side of the strange ashy colored she-cat were two kits, the two that had died when she bled out birthing her third litter. Both were snowy white with faint black stripes barely visible on their fluffy pelts, forever softened with youth. Young eyes gazed up at Crimsonfire from beside the former queen, one set blue and one set the same soft gold of Fernheart’s. A gentle smile came to Fernheart’s maw as she met Crimsonfire’s gaze. “Hello Crimsonfire. I must say, I have much to thank you for. Without you, I fear Frostwind wouldn’t have faired well after my death. To thank you properly, I’d like to teach you a lesson I learned very early in my life and continue in death.” Her tail uncurled to indicate the kits sitting upright beside her. Their eyes followed Fernheart’s to regard Crimsonfire with nothing but innocent curiosity. To living cats, a bow was the proper way to respectfully thank someone but now that Fernheart was of StarClan, it would be unseemly to do so. So, she improvised. RISING to her feet, the faintly gray she-cat strode toward the leader to be. Her pawsteps whispered over the dewy grass as she drew closer. “With this life, I give you a life of fierce and unending love. Know the love of a mother for her kits, of a mentor to their apprentice, of one lover for another. May you forever know love for your clan, in times of plenty and times of trouble alike.” Fernheart’s words were as soft, sweet and gentle as a summer breeze, warm and comforting. Her yellow gaze glowed softly despite the silver moonlight that normally did its best to drain color from everything it touched. Leaning forward, Fernheart pressed her nose firmly to Crimsonfire’s forehead. This was a life she knew well and hoped he would be able to find use for. She had known him to be a hotheaded tom with plenty of anger running like blood in his veins. It was Fernheart’s hope that a little love would temper the anger and hate in his mind, cool it of the fire that raged so freely inside him. MOST cats when they absorbed a life of love, from what Fernheart understood, felt it one of two ways. This life could be painful like the others, like the pain of a mother losing her kit or the pain of watching a kit go off to battle as an apprentice or warrior, not knowing if they would come back. The pain of the grief would be like a sharp stone through the heart, acute and unending, something you couldn’t ignore until it felt like your very heart would simply break in two from the loss and ferocity of the love. The other way this life was felt was like a warm ray of sunlight, gentle and all encompassing, wrapping around you the way a mother curls around her kits to keep them warm and let them know they are safe and loved. Fernheart didn’t know how Crimsonfire would absorb it but she hoped it was the kinder of the two, seeing as how he seemed to absorb the leader’s lives quite….violently. With a soft smile still on her kind features, Fernheart and her kits faded into nothing but glimmers of starlight. AS soon as they were gone however, another figure took their place before Crimsonfire even had a chance to finish absorbing the life. It sat quietly reclined on its haunches, a tall lanky tigress, thin as a branch but a beautiful ginger gold with amber eyes that Crimsonfire had clearly inherited. Terncall, mother of Meadowfrost, sat watching her grandson absorb Fernheart’s life of love, patiently awaiting his recovery. Tagged;; Crimsonfire Words;; 982 Singing;; NA Notes;; ^^ [/scrolly]

[jinxeh ఇ]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/2nss6lh.jpg] [scrolly:h(461),w(285),sy] The large brute didn’t have time to recover from the pain of the last life. He felt the presence of the next StarClanner upon him, as the now familiar feeling of being watched flitted over his body with chilling hands. Wincing through the last few painful throbs, Crimsonstar lifted his head just enough to see who had appeared in front of him, and he wondered what like of pain this life would put him through. After seeing the last three souls, he was prepared to see anyone, or at least he thought he was. With amber eyes still clouded from the ache that was rather persistant in his large muscular body, he tried to focus upon the shape. Blinking when three blurred shapes appeared instead of one, he closed his eyes once more, exaggerating this blink, and brought his head up, the pain leaving his body at once. Eyes regaining their full sight capacity zeroed in, first on the faces of the pale kits, one with blue eyes, the other with golden eyes. He knew who the she-cat was before he looked upon her face. He knew those eyes, he could recognize them from anywhere. A pang of sorrow struck his heart when he realized who the two cubs were. Amber crystals, darkened with sadness travelled over the she-cats perfectly preserved, and beautifully delicate pelt. She was so lithe, smaller than he had remembered the tigress being, but beautiful, the same object of beauty he could remember, in looks and personality. Crimsonfire was never attracted to her, but he wasn’t ignorant of Fernheart’s beauty. A shadow of a smile touched his lips, and he sighed. It was difficult seeing her here, after watching how the loss of her had affected Frostwind. Eyes finally meeting the soft gaze of the tigress Crimsonfire’s eyes welled up with tears, something that was rare for the brute. Opening her mouth to speak, he took in each one that flowed from her eloquent maw. “You’re welcome, Fernheart. She misses you dearly.” The low rumble of his voice was a harsh contrast from her soft one, but it merely evaporated into the star drenched forest. Dropping his eyes to the two cubs by her side, he smiled at both of them, just as beautiful as their mother, innocent and pure, never having to experience the pain of hunger, the harshness of winter, the blood of a battle. They would be forever pure souls, good, and clean, no bloodshed weighing on their subconscious. Crimsonfire wasn’t sure what to feel for them, whether it be pity, or jealousy. Both were stirring in his heart. Once she spoke again, he gazed back at her as she moved through the space towards him. A quizzical look began to play on his features. Love? What did love have to do with anything? He had experienced love, that is, for his mother. He had cared greatly for his apprentice, but it was never love, Crimsonfire had just never let himself get that attached to another cat. The young tiger was skeptical of the life she would giving him, not sure why it would help him on the road that was laid out in front of him. The tom couldn’t fathom caring for his Clan the same way he cared for his mother, they didn’t give him a reason to love them. However, despite the fact that he questioned the reasoning behind the life he was to be receiving, he respected StarClan enough to trust them that there was a reason behind giving him something as foolish and silly as the ability to love, as Fernheart put it. Showing no response when she finished speaking, he just waited for her to touch him and give him his life. For a moment after she had brushed his forehead, he felt nothing, except for a tingly feeling where she had touched him. His body tensed as he waited for the pain to strike. Muscles tight under his skin, and jaw clenched, he closed his eyes just wanting the pain to be done and over with. But instead of pain, a new feeling swept over his body, easing the tension from his muscles, releasing the taughtness of his jaw and relaxing his features. The feeling was warn, touching every inch of his body in soothing embrace, filling him with a soft heat. Crimsonfire felt very young, and instead of the fear he had felt upon receiving the other lives, he felt an incredible and relieving safety. He knew this feeling, he had felt it for six moons when he was in the nursery with his mother. Unlike the other lives he had received, he didn’t want this one to end; he prayed that it would stick with him for the rest of his life and never cease to be present in his body. As suddenly as it had arrived, the life faded from his body, leaving the faint glow of it mixing with the other lives. Opening his eyes with a sigh, it took him a moment to come back down to reality and once he did, he gasped and jumped back a few feet, surprised to see a new tigress in the place of the former, so soon after the receiving of the life. “Terncall!” words [880] tags [starclan] muse [meh] notes [blah] listening to [nothing] [/scrolly]

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/10qb0k1.jpg] [scrolly:h(910),w(460),sy] SOFT golden eyes regarded Crimsonfire as he called out her name. A small smile tugged at the corners of Terncall’s lips, indulgent and loving as the grandmother gazed upon her grandson. To look at her, you would never know she had endured a life of hardships. Under the eternal starlight her coat gleamed a sleek, soft ginger with crisp black stripes lining her thin frame. She was thin but not unhealthily so, tall and beautiful, sitting at ease with her striped tail curled around her side. Her face was handsomely marked with ginger, black and white to accent her pretty honey-gold eyes that danced like twin flames in the low light of the afterlife. Every muscle in her body was relaxed and an air of serenity surrounded her, as though she had all the time in the world and knew it only too well. There was not a hair out of place on her coat, no flicker of fear or unease, no scars from lifetime battles or sign of the illness that had stolen her life or the many miscarriages she had suffered before birthing her kits. YES, Terncall had no t had an easy life. She was a beautiful healthy cat but had always had trouble carrying kits to term. Three litters had died before birth so that when Terncall finally birthed Meadowfrost’s litter, it had been late in her life. Meadowfrost had had two brothers, Branchtail and Broadstripe, both of whom had died as young warriors, very nearly breaking Terncall’s heart. Meadowfrost had been the only one of her kits to in turn birth kits of her own, giving Terncall and her beloved mate Kindleflight grandkits. Terncall had been forced into becoming an elder right before young Crimsonkit had become an apprentice, something that had greatly distressed all involved at the time. Terncall had not gone to the elder’s den because of age, no, there had still been many good years left in her bones despite not birthing kits until late in life. A mysterious illness had struck Terncall and forced her into retirement, much to Meadowfrost and Goldenlight’s distress. RINGING in her ears, constant headaches, fainting, temporary blindness, temporary deafness, all of it had plagued the thin she-cat until she couldn’t take it anymore and had to retire. Goldenlight had been at a loss for what could be ailing her, seeking out injuries and trying every herb combination she had known. Terncall knew that to this day she was Goldenlight’s greatest mystery, the illness she could not heal. On good days, Terncall had often entertained her grandkits with vivid tales of brave warriors and noble leaders as they went about cleaning the elders den. Other days she had lain ill and weak, shaking with cold when it was the height of Greenleaf. Some days she had been able to eat well but others hadn’t even been able to stomach a few berries. There would be weeks at a time when she would be strong and vital, sprawling in the sun beside Kindleflight or hearing all her family had to tell her before she would be again laid low by violent illness. BEING an all around adoring mother and grandmother, Terncall couldn’t fairly say it outright but Crimsonfire had been one of her favorites. He had inherited his father’s volatile temper and a bit of Kindleflight’s tendency to brood which Terncall had found oddly endearing. Oh how many days had she leant an ear to the young tom as he ranted about the unfairness of his training or Stormhawk’s behavior? How many nights had she found him unable to sleep when she too was held tight by insomnia? Even beyond the veil of death, the slender queen could remember them all with perfect clarity and they made her smile. Crimsonfire had risen above Stormhawk and all the hearsay of the clan. He was young and still destined to fall sometimes but Terncall was certain he would rise up each time to meet the new challenges ahead of him. It was in his blood, from both his father’s side and mother’s despite Meadowfrost’s docile personality. Tigers, they were made to endure and endure they would. He would learn so much along the way that in a few years’ time, Crimsonfire would look back and wonder how he had been so young and foolish. “CRIMSONFIRE, my dear grandson,” Terncall purred, voice warm and familiar, like an old friend from the past. There was her customary rasp to it making it seem as though only yesterday she had sat beside him and listened as he told her all the injustices of an apprentice’s life. “You have risen high and stood tall over all those who looked down upon you and I am proud. I come to you tonight to temper the flames of your arrogance and confidence with the calmness of compassion.” Rising to her feet, the tall tigress strode toward him. “This life I grant you is a life of compassion to feel the pain of others and rise up to ease it, feel not contempt to the cats that observe but compassion for their loneliness, feel only the love of family and extend it to all those you meet.” BEFORE Terncall could move forward however, to grant him the life, another form appeared behind the thin tigress. He was a burly cat, taller than Crimsonfire and broader in the shoulder. His pelt was a deep ginger red, darker than Terncall’s. His amber eyes were bright and sharp like daggers, piercing right into the young tom before him. Kindleflight appeared standing tall and proud beside his mate barely a tail-length from his grandson, shoulder to shoulder with Terncall. The pair had always been a united force in life and that had not stopped in death. Kindleflight had been a warrior still when his mate had passed away and within a moon had gone from good health to death’s door after Terncall died. A proud, confident warrior valued for his strategic skills and physical strength had simply wasted away without his mate. In one moon, Meadowfrost and her kits had buried both grandparents, one simply flickering out without the other. Kindleflight had always been a tom of few words but he had shown enough affection to his grandkits even when Terncall had been ill. “I grant you a life of devotion that you may never waver from the side of your clan or the cats you love. Use it well.” KINDLEFLIGHT'S words rumbled like low thunder as he and his mate both leaned forward. The lives they granted would be not so much painful but overwhelmingly strong. It would be like someone holding him very tightly, snugly, to the point where it was nearly uncomfortable. Compassion and devotion were…controlling, driving forces in most clan cats. Medicine cats especially had these characteristics and valued them most often, knew their power and the driving force of them. They held you tight in their grip, opening the heart to the outside world while allowing one to hold tight to the small cluster of cats that truly mattered at the end of the day. Kindleflight had embodied devotion, both to the clan and to his family, holding them close and guarding them almost jealously but never faltering from Terncall even when she suffered infertility and miscarriages. Their kits were with them in the end and that was what mattered, though unlike Fernheart their kits did not appear to Crimsonfire. Terncall had embodied compassion, always with an open heart, standing tall and firm as a pillar for those that needed her so dearly, both in her blood family and the clan. With any luck, their lives would remind Crimsonfire that a leader was not just a warrior, he must be able to love as well. Tagged;; Crimsonfire Words;; 1299 Singing;; NA Notes;; sorry about the wait! and just so you know Tern's illness was supposed to be cancer in her brain [/scrolly]