wait for me ⍣ open

Let's Share! has (finally) launched! Our first article is a World of Tanks Guide by Enderclaw!
Check out this announcement about a new Power Reset item being added to the Inventory Store!
  • The river was always a source of comfort, not pain or fear. Rosepaw had met Bramblepaw once in this very same stream, her face dripping with frigid water and her expression hiding frustration from missing her kill. The water still looked the same as it had that day, but now the fat gibbous moon shone into its depths and got lost in the frothy foam of a small waterfall. The water was recovering from a momentary swell in height after snow melted from the tops of the mountains bordering their territory and the resulting runoff came cascading down the slopes and hills to feed into their tiny network of streams and fatten them up to nearly twice their size. Now the brook babbled comfortably, still whispering and gossiping but not in a malicious way, rather whispering to the trees about petty clan drama it heard through the woodworks. Rosepaw approached the water now, pawpads skipping against the slimy, lichen-covered pebbles on the riverbank and toes squelching into the thick mud gathered there.


    Rosepaw peered over a more calm, still part of the shallow creek unaffected by the tiny waterfall further upriver. Reflected against the deep black night, Rosepaw saw what her late-night happenings had wrought; blood, dripping in thick, scarlet globules, ran down from her nose and a nick above her eye, sealing the right half of her gaze shut. The deep red matter the pristine purity of her white fur and rolled down to gather at the bottom of her chin. A few moments of heaviness ensued before the droplet of blood fell and was submerged into the water, mingling with the many minerals and other such grains carried by the flow. Rosepaw couldn’t help her bitter laugh as she saw her appearance, only making the blood flow from her fresh wounds more. It didn’t make her pretty, it didn’t make her smart, it just made her red. Perhaps that was how she wanted it. Her scathingly sarcastic laugh continued.


    LIKE A BAD RELIGION [ TAGS ]



    LET'S PICK THE TRUTH THAT WE BELIEVE IN

    8 MONTHS — SHADOWCLAN — TAGS — PENNED BY LAZERITY

  • Rosepaw had always seemed so put together, always looking beautiful and saying the right things. Looking at her now, Briarthorn was concerned. Blood dripped from her face and the sarcastic laugh filled the forest. The brown and white tabby deputy watched from the trees, head tilted in confusion and worry. Where had she gotten that cut? Icefeather needed to take a look at it. After taking a moment to clear her head, the she-cat jumped down to the muddy ground, making her way to the calico apprentice.


    "Rosepaw? What's wrong? How did you hurt yourself?" The maternal instincts were taking over, thick in her concerned voice.


    ""


    「 BRING ON ALL THE PRETENDERS ———— ・゚✧ 」

    one day we will be remembered — tags

  • Rosepaw’s laugh faded as soon as she heard pawsteps approach from the treeline, her narrow blue eyes shifting to land on Briarthorn and stare. Her smile fell and her nose wrinkled, now the only notable thing about her appearance was how red and bloody her head was. It was a long gash, running from one ear down to the brow of her right eye, staining every area around it in the same deep scarlet. Of course, Rosepaw reasoned with herself. She had let herself get carried away again and now the deputy of the clan, one of the cats she looked up to the most, the best friend of her late mother was seeing just how unstable she was. With a flicker of lightning in her eyes, Rosepaw told herself she would never let something like this happen again. The calico shook her head an droplets of sticky red blood fell from her head and cascaded into the water at her paws. She returned her cold, calculating attention to Briarthorn. She had asked her a question, and Rosepaw was nothing if not honest.


    "There are some cats in this world who cannot feel a thing. Not physically, but mentally. Their emotions are so in check that they are essentially nonexistent. Sociopaths, I think we call them," Rosepaw murmured, a cold, ice-liked serrated edge clinging to her words. There was a deep calculation in what she was saying, as if she had thought over this exact thought thousands upon thousands of times. "There’s something wrong with their brains and the things that happen within. Something intrinsically scattered and frayed. I’ve said wrong things before because of my emotions, and I’ve said things I shouldn’t reasonably have said because I was angry. But that is hardly a good excuse for being wrong when there are cats out there with no emotions at all. I figured if I somehow messed up my brain enough, I wouldn’t be able to use that emotional excuse anymore."


    Rosepaw seemed to realise something and her eyes narrowed further, a sarcastic, almost twisted smile curling on her face. "I see now that I was grasping at straws. How ironic, that I rely on my emotional impulses to rid myself of them.”


    LIKE A BAD RELIGION [ TAGS ]



    LET'S PICK THE TRUTH THAT WE BELIEVE IN

    8 MONTHS — SHADOWCLAN — TAGS — PENNED BY LAZERITY