Posts by Storksplash.

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ It had happened so fast. It had happened too fast, in fact.

So fast that, as her heavy lashes fluttered open in a mysterious nest, she wondered if she had fallen asleep in the nursery again, and Lilykit was waiting somewhere, ready to ask her more questions about her successful life as an apprentice and how much she loved waking up early. But these memories were fleeting, like the sudden warm presence of a first kiss, and her virgin mind was tainted by reality. A wave of nausea crashed as she remembered why her legs could not carry her, and why her neck felt stiff, as if crammed between a rock and a hard place.

The barks. The screams. The creek.

"Storkpaw, you have to move!"

For a moment, she was trapped there again; her amber optics reflected a thousand-yard stare. The silence that imprisoned her did not, would not, could not release its chains. Her paws lingered elsewhere, on the sanctuary of stone that rose above the treacherous waters of the gulch. The sharp stone cut at her paws; yes, she could still feel them stinging. The coyotes roared above the waters and the yowls, which seldom reached her ears, and split the day. She remembered the yells. She remembered the screams. She remembered the bite, the crash, and then ...

She blinked, surprised again and bewildered by her surroundings. She smiled, though. She was still going to complete her training. Sure, she would likely get a good scolding from Briarheart and a few others - maybe those pesky elders again - but overall she was okay. She just needed to train more and bring a friend if she planned on swimming. That was all. Yet strangely, de ja vue absorbed her mind as she attempted to stand with a wince, and stuck to a staggered plod out of the den. The dark tabby stared at her paws, moving slower and slower, until she halted, frozen in place.

She could not comprehend it. Two crushing ailments in her life, and now this? She couldn't even run. She couldn't even walk. StarClan, I'm ... "Crippled," she weakly squeezed out, as if in denial of the words yet claiming the title before everyone else could label her as such for her.

Silence, again, enveloped her. From daydream, to reality, to her living nightmare, it followed her everywhere in her darkest times. It followed, only to mock her because the silence only brought the thoughts. The thoughts of, I want to be a warrior! I'm so much faster and stronger than you, Cedarkit! and, I'm a bit blind, and a little deaf, but I can do this, to the present reality.

I'm deaf. I'm blind. I'm crippled.

I will never become a warrior.

Eaglestar will retire me to the elders' den, where I belong.

And she deserved it. She failed to hunt much more than easy prey like mice, and was an atrocious fighter. She couldn't see the cat in front of her, nor hear them. Sure, she relied on her sense of smell, which was admittedly keen, but only because she paid attention to it more. Smell was about the last sense she had left, yet despite her disadvantages she had always taken her mobility for granted.

She was never able to demonstrate her endurance, however new it was to her. Now, it was gone. The last thread of hope she had, stolen.

Still; she denied it, rejected it, and sparked an ember in her heart. The thought of the elders, and their horrible gossip; the fun moments with Smolderingpaw; and even the patrols that she tried so hard to succeed in but failed every time ... Those, they were fuel to the fire.

No -- if they were going to retire her, they'd have to force her to. She wasn't down for the count; not yet. She smiled while she gritted her teeth, as the pain in her shoulder gnawed away at her. "Hey, I'm awake, all you bee-brains," she laughed, adding, "in case anyone was worried, anyway. Anyone want to see my cool battle scar?" For once, she hoped those annoying kits would crowd around her again. She had quite the tale to tell them; although, it was the child-friendly version. The traumatic event was better played off as cool and heroic. It was a bit ironic, in a sad way. All these stories of glory ... You hear them as kits, but in reality ... She stopped her train of thought since she had already lived through the answer to her plight.

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ "Oh, Lilykit!" Storkpaw chirped, and then after a pause and with less enthusiasm corrected, "Wait, you're Mouse." Upon closer inspection, he definitely did not have the distinct ginger fur that Lilykit had. However, now that he was closer, something caught her eye. Her amber orbs lit up. "Oh, hey," she meowed, "we're twinning now." She leaned down to inspect the brown tabby with a hum of false curiosity. "Did you get in a fight with coyotes, too?" She left her question hanging, leaving an air of suspense for the young tom, which would hopefully lead the Clan mute to do something typical of him - a wide-eyed stare, perhaps.

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ Storkpaw had sensed it. She didn't know where, but the faint scent of bird and feline carried on the downdraft of the cold shivering breeze. She thanked StarClan for her thick winter coat, despite its inability to keep out the occasional chill. Out of curiosity and fear, she followed her nose. While originally she had been following a patrol, a few apprentices had caught whiff of a few mice, and their mentors had follow in hot pursuit. Meanwhile, she struggled to keep up. She had lost them.

So initially, it was a relief to see a fuzzy image of white dotting the trunk of a nearby pine. "Oh, goodness, thank StarClan. I might need help getting back to--" Wait, what type of bird is that? Suddenly, she recognized the bird their leader was named after, and the ferocity of this unfamiliar warrior's appearance. "... camp. Are you okay? Should I get the medicine cats?" But how could she? With this limp in her step, she was fairly slow. I hope he's not bleeding out. Think! What did Owlgaze teach me that one time ... Poppy seeds? Cobwebs? She didn't know the first thing about medicine, and cobwebs seemed like a ridiculous notion considering he was bleeding profusely.

"Sh- Should I get moss? What should I do?"

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ Storkpaw was not a good hunter: that was a fact.

Though when her paw had come a whisker from catching the tail of a jay, she couldn't help herself. The sense of pride to be earned by finally catching something impressive -- of finally proving to be useful -- was tantalizing. On a whim, she had followed the bird all the way to fourtrees, only to be stopped in her tracks as it rested in a tree. Luckily, its vibrant blue outline stood against the dark greenery of the entangled boughs above. "Fox-dung!" she exclaimed, her large eyes narrowed. She would have to wait for it to come down; she'd wait all day if she had to.

SHELLFIRE

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ Oh, well imagine

As I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor

And I can't help but to hear

No, I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words

Storkpaw felt like her life was a complex drivel of misfortunes; however, it was actually quite simple. Take a young cat in a Clan full of fierce fighters; tell her things she wants to be, tell her stories of glory and battle. Now, watch as she grows ill. Her eyesight withers. Her hearing fades. She is reminded of this, everyday; no one has to say it for her. Maybe because they know she knows, or maybe because it would be rude.

What a beautiful wedding

What a beautiful wedding, says a bridesmaid to a waiter

And, yes, but what a shame

What a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore

But that was her life. Her siblings were often distant, a non-factor in her life. Her mentor was strict, with expectations Storkpaw struggled to ever reach. Her parents were slightly taboo, a ShadowClan cat and a rogue. The friends she made were fleeting.

So, she held it in. It being everything. From birth to apprenticeship, it was all strife and struggle, masked by humor and a sharp tongue. In a Clan that was supposed to be for the strong, the fearless, and the capable, Storkpaw was everything but that. She never spoke of it; never complained, never cried. The closest to spilling was one day of sleeping in, where Briarheart had come to address her issue of sleeping in to miss all the happy parts of the day -- like failing at hunting, flopping at training, and being ridiculed by the elders.

I chime in with a

Haven't you ever heard of closing a goddamn door?

No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality

No one had to say it for her to know.

But was it really true? She had told herself this all her life, yet here she was with a limping leg, and she hadn't had a name-change. Her name was not Deafears or No-Eyes. She was still who she had always been: Storkpaw.

I chime in

Haven't you ever heard of closing a goddamn door?

No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of

As she passed by a pool of water on her way to the church, she caught a glimpse of herself. Her shoulders lowered, and her tail flicked about, as she recognized herself. Yes, she hadn't changed much from the kitten she had always been. Though her body was weaker now, her heart still clung to the warrior dream. It was a fantasy branded in her mind. She could never shake it.

Oh, well in fact

Well I'll look at it this way

I mean, technically, our marriage is saved

Well this calls for a toast

So pour the champagne

While she did admit that at times it was tempting to see if RiverClan was looking for apprentices with an affinity for water, she knew she could never really shake her loyalty to DarkClan. While she had no close family, the Clanmates she had were like family enough for her. Sure, they had their bad times, but there were good times, too. All DarkClanners seemed to each have their own private world they lived in, and occasionally felt generous enough to share it with others. At least, that was what she had often done.

Oh, well in fact

Well I'll look at it this way

I mean, technically, our marriage is saved

Well this calls for a toast

So pour the champagne, pour the champagne

Underneath it all, Storkpaw did feel like she had not shared herself enough with others. In her 11 moons of life, she had been often reserved. There had been an incident where this had not been the case: the bear that had killed ShadowClanners, and revealed a murderer to them all. She had cut her lighthearted prickles and jokes for a mouthful of distaste for the tom. In return, she was punished; so, ended her talkative streak. There was also not a single doubt or trouble she ever let on. In strife, she thought more for others than herself. She bottled it up for the Clan, no matter how minutely it mattered.

I chime in with a

Haven't you ever heard of closing a goddamn door?

No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality

Storkpaw commonly was much alike to a lump of coal: useless, dull, and messy. Under pressure, it seemed, however, that she had become a diamond, faceted in everything she did. She was not lazy; she tried hard, and felt defeated at times. She was not stupid; after all, she was not born with the same strengths and weaknesses as others. She was not worthless; she was only 11 moons old, and still had her trials coming up soon.

I chime in

Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?

No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality

Again

I chime in

Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?

No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality

I chime in

Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?

No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality

Again

Her entire life was ahead of her, and it was time to stop worrying pessimistically and attempting to predict her own future. She sighed, finally reaching the church, and rested on a pew. One day, this bell will ring for me, she thought with her head on her paws, and I will have a name that shows I am fine as I am. She peered out a window from where she knelt, and watched as a baby bird leaped from its nest, flying off to live life in the sky. She smiled. I have made it this far. I survived two bouts of sicknesses, and one coyote attack. That is more than most warriors can say for themselves; in time, I'll catch up to everyone else.

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ Storkpaw did not patrol often; especially, border patrols. Not since the last incident.

She shuttered, recalling the screeching noise of a thunder monster roaring past, just whiskers away from her face. However, this patrol was unlikely to end the same way. She had learned her lesson; as a matter of fact, she had learned many lessons thus far as an apprentice. Even with her limp, a border patrol was very unlikely to be too hard or dangerous for her. If only they were a bit more common, but it was leaf-bare. Hunting was very important. While she was being fed alright for the most part, she was sure the warriors had to make a few sacrifices to keep the entire Clan fed most days.

So it was only natural for her to be weary as she picked up the scent of ShadowClan, long before the border appeared. Her amber visionaries flashed in an initial storm of emotions at the sight of them. She could not pick how she felt: angry, sad, afraid? She settled for the pensive feeling between them and simply greeted, "Hello there." She was ashamed to be near them in her patrol, but at least most DarkClanners did not often recount the fact that she herself had the Clan's blood in her. The taboo lingered in the air, clear for everyone to see, though maybe DarkClan was ready to make peace with them ... for now.

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ Storkpaw's worries were quickly eased by Smolderingpaw. The sound of his chipper voice itself was soothing, but his jokes only relieved her further. It was nice to have someone in the Clan that could smile in the face of adversity. Storkpaw wasn't very courageous herself. In response, she would purr, "No, I'm just fine, actually. Thanks." She looked to Alpinefrost - the stranger now named - and looked over him with a remnant of worry. "I'll try to help whatever way I can while you're off doing that, I guess."

Following her original train of thought, the apprentice would quickly collect moss from the roots of the nearest pine. It came easy to her, as she was often quite the camp slave, always off to listen to the beck and call of elders and queens. The most common task she was assigned was making nests, and having to fetch more moss was an annoyance. Sometimes Storkpaw spent days at a time collecting it just so she wouldn't have to again. It was usually a very useless talent, though maybe it would help then and there.

With a makeshift moss bandage, she attempted to press the spongy substance onto ALPINEFROST 's wounds to stop the bleeding. "I don't know if this was the best course of action, but I hope it makes you feel better. Nice catch, by the way." She glanced at the eagle enviously, knowing it was much better than anything she would ever dream of catching.

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧

    _{STORKPAW – – ✧}

– – ✧ Likely against the medicine cats' wishes, Storkpaw had made her way to the gathering. If the journey wasn't a challenge for her, she would have been talking to Smolderingpaw the whole away, maybe about the coyotes, and maybe about more prank ideas for the elders. Part of her wanted to ask him if he was feeling alright; after all, neither had remained unscathed since the last meeting. Both of them were much different, maybe even more grown one could say, as they teetered on the edge of receiving their warrior names.

First were the two token DarkClan apprentices, but before them was a ThunderClan warrior who Storkpaw undoubtedly did not recognize, not even remotely. "How is the prey running in ThunderClan?" the she-cat would ask quietly, unsure if the gathering had officially started yet.

Smolderingstride   lizardgaze.

Thinking. "Speaking." Text.

You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far – –✧