Posts by fleecewing

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  • have your character be captured and experimented on?

    [size=8]OOOH COULD YOU HAVE HER EXPERIMENT ON FLEECEPAW in her feline body this is amazing for plots!!!! could she possibly cut her tongue out and/or cut her up awful badly, possibly even mentally torture her with images of her killing her friends or her friends being killed while she couldn't do anytihng?

  • free art <3

    [size=8]im screaming i love your art so much
    could you do fleecepaw? either as a dragon or as a kitty would be fine, i'd be happy to pay anything!!

  • you know better [private]

    [size=8]They were so young and yet they already knew what they wanted their death to be like. It was haunting, but when you lived in the while you were thinking about death the moment you were given life. Her death, she already had it planned out. She would die in water. After all, that's what her dreams had said. They were always filled with water, suffocation, the inability to breathe. It had already come oh so close, hadn't it? Threatening to wrap its icy fingers around her and strangle her. She had been willing to be taken, to. It was terrifying.


    What she had seen in the icy water had been something she didn't dare talk about. It wasn't a subject she ever wished to encroach on, one she wanted to ignore and forget and yet she was reminded of it so many times. In her sleep, she relived the moment daily. The ice digging into her skin, tearing apart her flesh and bones. The water swelling into her lungs, a flood, a flood. Forty days, forty nights, was it? Nothing but water. It consumed her. She always woke up to the sound of ice. Shattering under her paws. It had been thick in her dream, but somehow it always shattered, frail as the feather of a dove. She always lost.


    CrrrrrACK. The ground gave way, the thin separation between her and the mercilessness of gravity was broken. She was weightless against the pressure of the earth as it wrapped its fingers into her flesh and pulled her down into its soft, icy embrace. There was so much air, it surrounded her, it swallowed her whole. Everything beneath her was nothing, there was just whiteness, blindingly white, and then the pressure of the air became water again, suffocating her, flooding her lungs. It grabbed her lungs with icy fists and pummeled them into two bruised masses. It pulled her throat, rubbed her insides raw. Her jaws stretched open in a huge gasp, struggling for air when there was none. Darkness circled her vision, and it closed. There they were.


    The eyes. They stared right at her.


    But then they were gone, and she was still perched on the topmost branches, her frail body still going wherever the wind brought her. She let it pull her, crouched on the branch heaving for air, her whole body shaking and trembling as her eyes met Sabbath's- for a single moment they were filled with terror, for a split second. But then they became dark, acknowledging of what had happened. It was just another terribly cruel reminder of her mortality. She sucked in a shuddering breath and stared at Sabbath with her empty as he spoke, deadly silent.


    We all are. His words were so true it made her heart ache. They were scared, that was it, wasn't it? Everybody was scared of something, everyone had different ways of coping. They hid themselves, or they leaped at their fears. The only option left was to do as Candlepaw did, which was to eradicate yourself entirely. You couldn't fear anything when you were dead, could you? Fear was such a violent, bastardly thing. It made people horrible creatures instead of animals, it made them barbarians. It was the root of all their problems and it only made her sick. She watched as Sabbath scaled further up the tree, his eyes unfocused. Eyes always said so much about people, didn't they? She nearly scoffed at that, heart gone bitter. Traitorous eyes, weren't they. She sucked in a breath. Why are you scared?


    "Eyes." Her word was so softly spoken the wind seemed to simply steal it from her mouth and toss it away carelessly, her expression barely registered that she said a word at all. The wind roared around them. She could feel her chest closing up as she tore her gaze away from him and back towards the ground, it looked like clouds. Soft clouds that would wrap her small body in its embrace, bury her, hide her away. She would have nothing to be afraid of in the clouds, they would protect her. She could feel it- the pressure. It had a name, didn't it? Fear. She was scared of heights. Wasn't that logical? She had been climbing tress since she could walk, and why? To feel it. The pressure. She was addicted. She sucked in an icy inhalation of air, filling herself with it, enjoying the shudder as it filled her lungs. Her eyes closed for a moment before she looked back at Sabbath. If she stared hard enough at him, she could get rid of her fear. There was only Sabbath, his fiery body stark against the whiteness of the world around them. The world was quiet.


    "I d-don't know." Once again, her words were so soft they could have just been another exhalation of air, but her body seemed to shake harder as she looked away from him and once again found the thick, billowy snow underneath of them. Her body was paralyzed, she could feel nothing, nothing at all- and she loved it. Her grip loosened on the branch a little and swayed dangerously with the wind, mind lethargic and slow. "I don't know, Sabbath. I don't know why I'm scared." Her mouth, once set in a thin line, seemed to loosen, and her eyes slid once more to lock with his as a slow, drugged smile tilted her muzzle sideways, her body only barely connected to the branch, swinging and swaying violently as a slow, quiet laugh rumbled from her mouth. "I don't know."


    And then she fell.

  • a great day - kitting, open

    [size=8]Children, so many children. One time, Fleecepaw had been that young, that innocent. She envied those who were, really- they had not been exposed to the horrors of the world they lived in. Perhaps one day they would loathe themselves and those around them. They would all fear something. And it would probably be death. Those young minds would soon be tainted horribly and she tried not to think about it as she lumbered over- a massive dragon amidst a bunch of young kittens, she was so threatening. Ever since she'd ripped into this odd body in order to rescue Harborpaw and Edward she had been stuck, unwilling to face the horrible pain of going back, unwilling to relive the pain. But it was certainly uncomfortable and she felt horrible.


    At Cloudhouse's command, her jaws parted slightly as if to reply before she simply snapped them shut, too dead to say anything. Her lifeless eyes shifted away as she clambered what felt like a few feet to retrieve a small bucket with the tip of her claw, and then fill it with river water before ambling back and gently putting it down, sitting back and staring at them in silence. Hopefully they would enjoy this peace. Before it was gone. Even now, new life seemed to murder- seeing Wingstar go still and her eyes slide closed, her breaths slowing. Fleecepaw only stared. How many times could WIngstar escape death now? Was this her first? It certainly had to be terrifying, but nowadays dying was normal. She swallowed the lump in her throat, eyes closed.

  • ghosts ( open, capture )

    [size=8]An endless cycle of torture and war. It was what they'd known for so many centuries, and it still lay here as evidence. Fleecepaw's expression was bitter as she lumbered over, her scaled lips peeling over her huge teeth with disgust- at whom? Herself? Boneclan? Cloudynight? But as quick as it appeared it left, and the ruddy-black dragoness's expression grew just as cold as it had been before. Her golden gaze followed Harborpaw as she arrived only to run away- gone.


    There was a moment on indecision, but it was quickly erased. There was no point staying to guard a scent: she would follow Harborpaw. Turning around with her tail leaving a deep mark in the snow beneath her, she rumbled once before stalking behind her. Funny how, with her head at level with the trees, she still felt fear pulling at her chest, pulling at the threads of her mind. But it only made her feel more real.

  • everybody's talking [open + meet and greet]

    [size=8]How odd it was to see Asmodeus, of all people, playing with children. But then again, who else could he play with? At least in that sense, she couldn't bring herself to think of any other. She knew little of the male, simply that he appeared to be a foul mood a large amount of the time. That mood seemed to have evaporated, though, as he playfully messed with the young kittens. Once she had been a kitten just like them- now she was grown up. Funny what a month's time could do to you.


    Her golden eyes narrowed from where she lay watching, far from camp with her jaw resting in the cold snow. Being large was horribly inconvenient and she would have given anything to be a small cat one more time, without the horrible fiery pain. She had felt as if she had truly been in an inferno swallowing her whole, from her insides to the edge of her fur. Burning alive, she had thought she was dying. How ironic.


    Closing her eyes, she exhaled through parted teeth, a low rumble in her chest as greeting- as much of a greeting as one could make a hundred feet away, but her body covered most of the distance anyways. She glared hatefully at her red-black scales.

  • happy holidays everyone!

    [size=8]AYY HAPPY HOLIDAYS NEB UR THE SWEETEST..... could u do one of lil fleecepaw (as a kitty) because your graphics are literally goals is that was kids nowadays say


    shes just a light silver/blue tabby!

  • Fleecepaw's Opinions~

    [size=8]Post here and I'll update this post as I go, I want to get a good understanding of her feelings for other Windclanners and help develop her a bit. (:


    Edward: Edward has more courage and selflessness in one claw than I do in my entire body. When he lunged for Harborpaw as she fell to what could have been her death... it was an act so filled with bravery and honesty that it almost hurt to watch. But bravery is reckless, and I think that perhaps that is something Edward should have considered, but you can't blame him- he acted fast, faster than anybody there, and I admire him for that. He seems like he is a good friend and I respect him for that, I almost envy him if it were even possible to envy somebody that selfless.


    Asterpaw: She seemed scared of the world. She's probably the smartest of us all, in that way. The world only wants to kill you and it seems she has figured it out, and she's the only one. She reminds me of Sabbath in the way she spoke when she joined- stuttering, afraid. I haven't met her much outside of that, but she's got a good heart, I think. I admire that.


    Jonathan: I'm sorry, but I've never seen him before. Perhaps we should interact more. (WE NEED A THREA DOMG)


    Kane: I can see the burden laying on his back clearer than I can see my own. People always tell me I'm perceptive, but his seems to expose itself like an open book for all to read. I'm afraid to read it though- there are too many secrets. I can see it in everything he says, everything he does- everybody has secrets, and they're always linked to their fears. I would feel sorry for him, but I think I've lost that ability- too many things have broken down my empathy, and that, I am sorry for. But I do wish that I could take whatever is weighing him down and crush it.


    Sam: There is so much to say, and so little, and I'm afraid that if I try to, I'll mess everything up. If I were to use one word to accurately describe Sam... she's honest. She has always been true to herself, her ideals, and her position. She's an amazing medic. When I was younger, she was my idol, and now, she is a martyr, and yet at the same time it feels like she died for nothing. After all, not even death is permanent anymore- nothing is. One thing I do know about Sam is that she had been nothing but kind and supportive to me and I wish I could have done the same for her. She means more to me than I think she knows, which probably applies to most people. She's incredible easy to pour out your secrets to and I think that's why I fear her as much as I respect her.


    Cloudhouse: My mentor- is there really a better way to say it? That's exactly what he is, a mentor, a teacher, and somebody who I can- at least slightly- trust. I've probably never said more than a few words to him and he's said exactly one thing to me, and it's something that I'll never get out of my head, because I tell it to myself every day. Pull yourself together. He makes it sound so easy, but nothing is easy in this world. I wish I could snap out of it, I really do- but enough on me. Cloudhouse has taught me more than I think he's aware of and a medic team without him would feel horribly wrong. But I still feel as if there's more to him than I expected.

  • the dark of the matinee [private, wingstar]

    [size=8]She had never felt as broken as she did now. So many things had happened- Harborpaw, Sam, Sabbath, Candlepaw. It seemed like these names were just a chorus running through her head. All of them who had people who loved them and were able to find comfort in somebody. Parents, siblings, something. And what did she have? Nobody. She could remember that day so vividly it was almost like a scar cut into her mind, permanently there.


    The rain. She remembered the rain. Perhaps that was the very root of her fear, that was why she had been paralyzed instantly upon falling into the icy waters. Yes, she could feel it now, because it was rain, quite accurately it was pouring like Starclan wanted to wash her away. She wasn't fighting it, either. She could almost hear her father's growling voice- had he always growled- and her mother's sobs against the boom of thunder. Each word hit like a bullet and she could feel the sting - You're not enough. That had been the last thing he said. She had failed them.


    She shook her head- tears had begun to fall along with the rain sliding down her body. Shivering in the cold as it rained buckets, how wonderful. She gritted her teeth against the cold, rubbing her whiskers with a paw to get the rain droplets off. "I'm not enough."

  • a new leaf :: private, medic team

    [size=8]It was clear from the moment she saw him that Cloudhouse was furious. Not... quite as furious as he had been when he and Sam had gotten into the vicious duel that they had at her first meeting with the team, but quite close. The thought of the blonde lioness made her throat swell and her claws thread into the earth with a kind of violent force to them. Had Cloudhouse spoken in such a tone before all of the events that had occurred, perhaps she could have truly cared, perhaps been scared. But of course, that was natural. It was fear, and she had plenty to go around.


    But it seemed now that Fleecepaw had become a steel wall, some force to contend with. Her maw, usually fit into a cheery smile that radiated friendliness, seemed to be so flat that you could flick a quarter off of it. Her formalities and kindness had been thrown out the window. She had scars all over her, teeth marks, from the nightmares that she had to rip herself, physically, away from every morning. She was still sick, of course. When had it all happened? She knew exactly when. She could feel the pressure of ice around her lungs and once again willed herself to be high among the trees, the lack of oxygen squeezing pressure and bruising her lungs. But instead she was on the ground. There was no fear to make her feel- anything, anything at all. Instead there was only bitterness.


    She wasn't the only one, either. Harborpaw had nearly died, she had come so close to it, she had walked on the edge and she had nearly been in the gaping jaws of it as well, had it not been for Edward. She had simply gotten in the way, and should she have any semblance of emotion left she was certain she would have been ashamed but instead she had simply walked away. How much of a coward was she? To walk away. It took a huge amount of selfishness to leave a friend behind who had escaped death by a hairline, but of course, Fleecepaw couldn't care less. She was stone cold. There was no true catalyst to blame- trust her, she'd tried valiantly to pin it on Candlepaw, or Sam, or herself, or the strange pair of eyes she had seen when she nearly died. But instead she had come to realize that nothing had really started it at all. Nothing except themselves.


    Sore, she was mighty sore. Her throat, her lungs, her legs, her whole body- she'd hit the frozen snow with the force of a boulder and nearly paralyzed herself- and Sabbath. Oh God... Sabbath. She had nearly killed him. She wasn't even sure if she had. All she could remember was his fiery body as it went through the branches, seemed to hit them all one by one, like a clock ticking off the seconds. Crack, snap, crunch. It echoed in her head and she had to forcefully tear the sight away as she finally made it to the head medic at his call and watched him with steady, dead eyes. Instead of their usual brightness, there was merely a reflective surface, but perhaps they always had been. She gripped the ground to keep herself steady, truly the only other sign of life in her aside from the shallow inhale and exhale of air every now and then. "Present," she mewed, toneless and nearly robotic in nature.


    What had she become?