Posts by Sootstorm

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]holy shit there are so many new people!! welcome, all of you!! and welcome back to those who are returning :^)

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]Welcome to SkyClan!!
& holy shit?? Why do all of the cool people have art??

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]MOST LIKELY TO BECOME RAMSAY BOLTON: s o o t

Will edit my form into this later
smooches everyone 4 votes

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]Doemask rarely frequented the clan anymore since the last meeting before the territory burned down, and while Sootstorm rarely felt the same for her as he once had, he was worried. What of her apprentices? Her children? His children? But as the medicine cat, young but experienced, addressed the inexperienced apprentice that had been born from the two of them with news of a promotion, Sootstorm felt the same pride that he had felt when Thrushstar had become leader spread through him, even if he didn't outwardly show it. "Congratulations, Littlepaw." the feline meowed, padding forward and seating himself by his own apprentice.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]Holyy shit :c

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]It was so heartbreaking, to see such strong leaders reduced to rubble. But luckily for Sootstorm, he would never fail. Never break. Oh, he'd rule this whole forest one day, even if as of now, he was forced to be a warrior under the rule of his daughter and an annoying child. He could leave if he wanted to, happen upon another clan and prove his worth there, but his work wasn't yet done here. Not while everyone was still alive and well.

Presently, the large mainecoon padded forward, normally the first to greet the stragglers that were happening upon their borders. He hated it, as it set a bad example and increased the mouths that they were to feed during the winter, but with BloodClan threatening them and Thrushstar doing little about it, it was only normal that they increase their lines of defense if another attack came. Even if that line consisted of kittypets, loners, and former ShadowClanners. "Sparrowstar." he had seen the female at gatherings, besides the others. Out of all of them, she was the largest and most impressive to behold, practically a museum tell-tale of battle scars from past fights. The impassive, dark-furred warrior set his two bright yellow eyes on the female and breathed, her ShadowClan scent clogging his senses and making him wrinkle his nose in distaste for but a moment before he regained his composure. "What is your business on our borders?"

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A storm was coming. The clouds above were dark and thick, hiding any hint of the sun from view. In the rain that poured feverishly from the sky, a dark figure stood, staring in the direction of the charred, ashy remains of the SkyClan territory. His eyes were like fireflies late in the night; large and yellow, bright and stunning, sharp and delicate as if they were the tip of a blade. He was dead silent.

It hadn't caught up with the senior warrior until now, the fire; hadn't lurched him back to the past in quick, decisive flashes, telling him of a beautiful feline who had died protecting her children in a blaze of color. She hadn't screamed. Hadn't seemed in pain, and when he moved to go back, to protect their children and save her in the process, she had been gone from him in an instant. An instant. Had StarClan no mercy? Or was this his punishment for his lack of morals? If so, why put the blunt of the blame on the light of his life? She was young; he wished, direly, in those aching moments for StarClan to have taken him instead. He would've done it even if Silverwing hated him for what he had done, because despite her calm and peaceful demeanor, he knew her well enough to see through every visage she put herself in. Had his own actions quite possibly been more painful than any physical wound she had had to endure in those moments?

Worthless. A worthless mate, a worthless apprentice, and finally, a worthless warrior -- how did he delude himself with such visions of grandeur when behind it, he was still the same trembling child he had been many moons ago? No amount of masks or lies would ever be able to cover such a thing up, would never be able to make him climb the ranks. Maybe that was why it had taken him so long. Because he was too weak, like a kittypet, to truly approach his ambitions and face them like a real warrior would've. Like a real leader should've. Wait. No.

He shook his head and shrunk backwards, his heavy body trailing with a sharp turn back into the direction of SkyClan's temporary camp. It was foolish of him to have been standing there in the cold like that. Despite his mounds of fur, he had little to no protection against colds and other illnesses, and it would only be more work for the medicine cat in the end to take care of, and a waste of supplies. Shaking his coat like a wet dog, the male would dip into a stretch, flexing each claw on his paw before sitting his tailless rump down and reaching back to lick long, warm strokes into his soaking fur.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]Thornfang. The name was vaguely familiar, and for a moment, Sootstorm felt a brief shock of surprise course through him. An elder had been able to takeover ShadowClan? Surely, there was something wrong there. Warriors were supposed to be strong, after all, and leaders, the very strongest. Was Sparrowstar really so weak? He felt disappointment course through him. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. "I don't understand, Raggedface. You're ShadowClan's rightful leader until you meet your end; kits even acknowledge that, and to know that your warriors haven't is shameful, in the very least." his voice held a note of disapproval, as if he were a father chastising his naughty children. Which, in this case, he might've well been - with what him being older, and all. "But, very well, then. I'll participate in support of Raggedface's cause."

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]The clan hadn't been faring too well lately, and nobody seemed to be actively trying to combat that - not even their own deputy, someone who was supposed to aid and support the leader. No matter. It seemed as if he was once again given the opportunity of him being far better fit for the position (not that he was complaining, of course) and he jumped at the chance with flying colors. "If every able-minded SkyClanner would gather, I would like to address some things." the warrior would call, standing in the middle of the makeshift camp that the SkyClanners had made for themselves within ThunderClan's territory. The mainecoon would visually appear to be nonchalant, his yellow eyes aglow in the gathering darkness of the cold afternoon. "Firstly, and foremost, I would like to suggest that we do what ThunderClan has already made an example of doing, and do battle trainings for both the apprentices and warriors to join in. We have more apprentices than we do warriors, anyways, and this would aid those who haven't yet been assigned a mentor. It would also help catch up the warriors who have little battle experience and thus weak knowledge of what to do when the enemy threatens us. And, ah, speaking of the enemy, I propose that we attack BloodClan once we regroup into our new territory. We simply cannot let them bully us without retaliating, as it does little to help our situation and little to help our reputation, either. And, with the battle trainings, to clarify, I think they should at least be weekly, just like the next thing that I wish to assign: tasks! Apprentices and warriors have little to do, nor do kits, as they are, unfortunately enough, kept well inside camp. With tasks, we can promote enthusiasm and inner clan relationships. There's simply nothing better than a clan with strong relationships than with none at all."

/ic opinions ofc

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]Of course. The first to share her own thoughts was Foxdancer, and rather irritatingly, indeed; if there was one warrior besides Whitethroat that he couldn't tolerate, it was surely the same running her mouth off in front of him. Mouse-brain. The larger feline would listen to her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he did so - while he had no problem with her speaking her opinion, her tone of voice and body language was less appreciated. "Provoking them further? Foxdancer, waiting for them to attack won't change the problem. It'll worsen it. As a clan that is bound by code to protect each other and keep ourselves strong, standing back and letting them hit us while we're already weak is unacceptable, especially after they killed and assaulted our young numerous times. Not bothering to retaliate makes us an easy target to heathens such as them, and if you think differently, you clearly have little experience with the likes of them and on the battlefield. Stepping up patrols won't do anything, either. Loners and kittypets have been showing up in our territory and on our border for days on end, and not a single patrol had prevented any encounter. Not only that, but patrols weren't even enough to stop the fire from happening, either!" his voice rose, but fell back into the same indifference once again.

"I disagree. Our reputation matters greatly - it tells another clan whether we're an easy target, or one that needn't be messed with. A clan that's seen as weak and little is an easy target to steal from. We, right now, are weak. Defenseless. While we do have allies, they are only our allies momentarily when choosing between their lives and ours. Do you think that a clan like ShadowClan wouldn't hesitate to attack us when choosing between their lives and ours? No amount of helping them will ever fix that." Foxdancer was so young, and so, so stupid. She was easily angered and therefore weak, an easy target to manipulate and sway to another's whims. Despite being a fully trained warrior, she acted like an apprentice, impatient and rebellious. He so wished to put her in her place, but his conscience - or what little he had left - told him not to. In the end, it would prove little, and sway none. Unfortunately.

From there, he payed her little mind as she spoke her next words, since he had nothing else to reprimand her for. Especially because Thrushstar - who he most wanted to discuss this all with - had arrived just at that moment. "It would be difficult. But it's worth it in the end; we need to keep them in their place before leaf-bare arrives, while we're still at full strength. And I will do my best to help in that one moon - I would even train every one of my remaining limbs to make us strong enough to best BloodClan." his voice was wistful, attempting to appeal to Thrushstar's passion and loyalty to her clan. "And if there's one clan that'll be best equipped to help us with BloodClan, it'd be RiverClan, for sure. We could help them defeat the rouges, and in return, they'd simply have to help us. They know BloodClan's territory the best, after all. We'd be smart to grow close to them and earn their trust, and help."

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]If Sootstorm could rid of Whitethroat in an instant, he gladly would, as soon as it was offered. The male got on his nerves, but it went deeper than him merely stealing the position of deputy out from under Soot's paws. It was more so of the male's relationship with his daughter and his irritatingly high-and-mighty attitude (which seemed hypocritical coming from Sootstorm, who paraded about speaking of an nonexistent claim to a throne from which his daughter sat on). This time, Sootstorm didn't resist the urge to lower his ears and twitch his whiskers in obvious annoyance, facing the deputy with little care in how he regarded him. "Basically what I just said, but with fancier words. Weren't you supposed to be listening?" adding a clan or two wouldn't change the fact that the idea had been originally stated by Sootstorm before. It irritated him that Whitethroat added words here and there and suddenly everyone was praising him for being good at strategy, when in reality, he spun a weak web off of Soot's idea.

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;]Because of all of these lovely ships, why not have a week dedicated to those amazing chick-flicks that we're always watching? Maybe even match each other's profiles to make it all the more exciting.

coughs que moth should be Jane from becoming Jane psst

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]And LOTS more Sootstorm babies.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]There were few who could ever possibly appreciate finer language, using words properly and securely, and that was mostly because nobody had been brought up as Sootstorm had. While he had tried his best to raise his own children, he could never admit to being the best father, and would never claim the title out of pure honesty and graciousness, as he barely deserved it. His daughter, the leader, always faced him with a cool indifference, and while he certainly did no better, it didn't change the faint pang of disappointment and momentary self-loathing that went through him. She must know of his infidelity, and with what how she reacted when she was merely an apprentice matched up with how she treated her half-siblings, it wasn't hard to tell. Part of Sootstorm wanted to apologize, but what was there to apologize for? If anything, if anyone, he should be going to her mother instead. But she was dead and gone.

Sootstorm's parents were well-respected warriors, his mother rather tall and graceful, with silver fur the color of moonlight and eyes that shone a clear, grassy green. His father had been like him - hulking and muscular, with a mug littered with too many scars to count. He was like a lion, with dark amber fur and even darker copper eyes; his neck had been thick, and unusually hairy, resulting in a mane-like appearance. While his mother was sharp and often reproachful, constantly egging him to improve everything about himself twicefold, his father was warm and all loud, deep laughs and big, monstrous smiles. He had been their only child, his sisters having died early from illness, and certainly was brought and pushed into becoming their ideal son. He didn't mind it, if he was being completely honest - the attention had been welcomed, even if his parents could sometimes be pushy, controlling. Thinking about them now only brought him heartache. They had died in the fire along with his mate, but they had died together, which was all that mattered. Were they disappointed in him now?

Much like Mothdust, Silverwing, his late mate, had been very pretty, and despite how easily she could've used that against others, she chose and loved solitude almost as much as she loved her mate and children. Unlike Silverwing, Mothdust was much more gracious and polite, thus perceived as reserved. Not that he minded, of course. He had never been able to bring himself to like loud, angry she-cats like Foxdancer anyways. He much preferred the ones who were hushed but outspoken, ones who would not so easily be swayed by another. "I find that spying is a much more effective means of acquiring information. I was merely concerned that you had ill intentions, and you planned to leave. I would apologize, but I'm not very sorry." his voice was as dull and deep as ever as he regarded her with yellow eyes hinting something akin to amusement at her rodent-like habit of tapping her right paw. "But, in hindsight, you should note that it is not out of place to prefer solitude, especially with the party that we've allied ourselves with. While I am a warrior indebted to protect and stay loyal to my clan with my very life, I needn't like my peers, and rather plainly and truly, I don't. They have the intelligence of the very animals that we hunt and eat. I envy you, in fact; if not for my unwarranted ambitions, I would be much like you, keeping to myself and running to where the crowd isn't. If only."

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]32 moons.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Sootstorm is soon to be the cause of a few accidents in SkyClan due to a very prominent ambition, so, beforehand, I want to warm him up a little by having him encounter a BloodClanner and fighting it out. While I'd prefer for him to win since he's a huge ass mainecoon, it would be interesting to see someone who can counter him well. Any takers?

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]lmao, true
I'll make the thread and send it to you ;^)

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Could you find any brown tabby mainecoons???

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Sootstorm's temper, despite his usual act of indifference, was short and awfully heated when ignited. He knew not where it had come from; his mother had always been short with him, as as a child he'd been in dire need of the ability to fixate and focus on one thing at a time, but not so short that she'd resulted in yelling and growling. His father had been too laid back to even come off as angry, and there was not a moment where he'd find the male stern and stony. Perhaps it had rubbed off on him through his mentor? It would make sense; the male had always been horribly rude to Sootstorm whenever he did something to either unintentionally or intentionally annoy him. Sootstorm did not appreciate that, however, and the mere thought of such a negative figure in his early years just proved to darken his mood further. While he realized that Whitethroat was only doing his job as deputy, it was hard to not take it personally, especially when the male had been wrong; Foxdancer had started it by treating him like a child in need of a stern talking to, and, in return, Sootstorm scolded her for it. Rightfully, of course. Whitethroat needn't relay the same treatment on him in return.

He listened respectfully and quietly as Thrushstar proceeded to speak, steadily ignoring her obvious annoyance with him because he cared little for it. "Agreed." he said, rather stiffly, but in general agreement -- he was not one to usually appreciate the safer route of things, but this one was agreeable enough to calm whatever boiling anger had been left from earlier. "I myself volunteer to spy on them after aiding ShadowClan; after all, unlike cats like Whitethroat who have undoubtedly provoked them in some way, shape or form, they could scarcely recognize me." his reason for going there wasn't just to merely spy -- despite his mutual hatred and disgust in their practices, something could be learned from such terrifying felines, even by an older warrior such as him. He was far too confident in his own skills for his own good, having taken down a badger, but he'd seen how their enemy had moved.

And, as they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

A female who he had little to do with voiced her own thoughts, and he took them with a grain of salt, studiously ignoring them as he did with the others. It seemed as if the members of this clan had little mind, or no mind at all; their reputation was what provided them with the same comfort that their well-being would. He wanted to explain this to them, but his words would fall on deaf ears. That was the one problem with this clan; the members didn't like hearing things that intercepted their own opinions, and while he could share that trait himself, it didn't mean he had to like it. Sootstorm also turned a head to the fact that Wolfstep wished to speak to Thrushstar in private, instead choosing to say, "I'll start the battle training and weekly tasks as soon as possible."