Posts by softstep
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Softstep plopped a few mice onto the fresh-kill pile. The tom had free time to spare, and had used it to bring back a reasonable catch. His whiskers twitched in satisfaction at his own work, and he had half the mind to return to hunting. The warrior turned to do just that when he caught glimpse of a small, dark shape. Softstep padded forward curiously, unfamiliar with the kit before him. "Hello." He meowed. "Who might you be?"
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"Softstep. Your name fits you well." The warrior observed, sitting down. His gaze followed Pantherkit's for a moment, his bright eyes watching the tom basking in the shadows. "That's Snakehiss." Softstep mewed. "I wouldn't want to get on his bad side, but knowing him, you likely already are. Don't sweat it much - I'm fairly certain that no one is actually on his good side, either." His tail twitched uncertainly, wondering how the tom in particular would react to the new arrival. He narrowed his eyes, turning away.
"I'd better be on my way. The prey is running well today, and I'm hoping I can bring back even more fresh-kill." Softstep meowed, although it sounded more like an excuse to leave. "See you around, Pantherkit." He called out over his shoulder as he padded back to the camp's entrance.
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Softstep stretched, rising out of a nest of his own and creeping out of the den. The Warriors' Den was no comfort to him, with his clanmates' mixed feelings and often harsh words. The warrior let out a sigh as the morning rays shone onto his fur and its warmth came to him. Not for long, unfortunately. The tom still shivered in the cold air. His eyes soon caught the small, moving shape of a kit. His ears perked up as he watched the kit curiously.
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Softstep had woken up a few moments before, and he attempted to shake the lull of sleep from his mind even still. The tom stalked out of the den with every intention on going on an impromptu trip to hunt. The night air chilled him as he padded to the fresh-kill pile to check the prey count. A low noise made his ears fall back in confusion.
The tom listened intently, padding quietly over to the elders' den. He peered inside with wide eyes, intrigued.
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The tom nodded gently, his yellow eyes reflecting alarm. Softstep hadn't been acquainted with the elder before, and dared not to take a step further. "Is something wrong?" He mewed. He didn't know what was possibly troubling the old tom. Softstep knew that with many moons came many experiences, and wondered if a saddening memory came to him for a moment.
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eeey it's my boi softstep
i'm better at doing rps where i have an idea of what's going on
so here i amhe's open to p much anything except death
so just sorta throw stuff at me
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For a moment, Softstep was puzzled. Oftentimes elders enjoyed telling stories to his knowledge. The warning piqued his curiosity like the enticing allure of a mouse to a starving cat, and the tom wondered if that was a good thing. "May I hear it? It helps to talk about things, so I've heard." He meowed hesitantly. Softstep was withdrawn from his clanmates, despite his friendliness, and as a result, didn't speak to them often. He always harbored his problems, and yet here he found himself encouraging the elder to speak of his troubles. The tuxedo tom wondered if, for a moment, he should heed his own advice.
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The tom listened to the few words the elder offered, curling his tail around his paws as he sat down. He hadn't heard the story before now and chalked it quickly up to his age. Perhaps he'd been too young to notice? Or not even born at all? He hadn't missed harsh looks exchanged between his clanmates when the elder was mentioned, but he'd never realized why. "If it was the will of StarClan, who could argue?" He meowed quietly. "Even if it wasn't, you didn't know that." Softstep reasoned, cutting short just of the elder's heritage. Blood was a tricky subject for him to approach or think of. Snowstorm, his mother of ShadowClan, had fallen for a loner many moons before. He was the result of that bond, along with his sister, Riley. He nearly flicked his tail at the thought of his vile sister. His mother had wanted them to be loyal warriors that would defend and fight for their clan with the ferocity of their great ancestors. Her death had shattered him, and driven his sister to hate StarClan and all it stood for.
He blinked, not realizing he'd been lost in his memories. "Blood doesn't define anyone." Softstep murmured. It sounded less like it was directed to Thornfang, and more like it was a reassurance for himself.
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"Maybe so. But the cats birthed - they could not help such. No cat can control the actions of their parents. It doesn't make them inherently bad or more likely to break the code. Just that they came from a questionable decision." Softstep meowed. He reflected more of himself in those words, he noticed, but didn't care. The tom hadn't known what to say about Raggedstar. He chose not to speak on that topic just yet as he thought of what he could say.
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Softstep's yellow eyes opened slowly. His drowsiness soon faded, replaced with raw anticipation. It would be his first day as a mentor - a day he would cherish. Every warrior remembered their first apprentice, and Softstep would be lying if he said he wasn't ecstatic. Rising from his nest, he let out a yawn. The warrior stretched his legs as he made his way out of the warriors' den. It was just before dawn, and the pale sky that hung over ShadowClan reflected the cold air they'd been experiencing. Colder than usual? Leaf-bare was coming.
Creeping over to the apprentices' den, the tom peered inside. "Winterpaw?" Softstep meowed.
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The tom chuckled lightly. He had remembered his first day as an apprentice - what an exciting day that was for him. "Well, I was thinking we could visit the borders first." Softstep meowed. It had been the first thing his mentor taught him, and he felt the need to continue such a tradition. He flicked his tail-tip for his new apprentice to follow him, and padded toward the the tunnel of thorn bushes at the camp entrance.
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"I hadn't said it wasn't meant to be followed," The tom mewed softly. "Just that a cat isn't in control of whom they came from. I believe the rule was created to make sure cats were loyal to their clan. If a warrior had ties to a cat from another clan, by blood or affection, I believe they'd make an exception for them on the battlefield." Softstep had begun grooming himself, swiping a paw over his right ear. The warrior always tried to be presentable, especially in the company of cats that were to be respected.
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im hamiltrash lmaothat'd be great! owo
anything in particular you want him to teach ghostkit??he may or may not teach ghostkit the best route to sneak out of camp[hr]
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Softstep dipped his head respectfully to the elder. "I must be on my way now. Farewell." He meowed, turning away from the den. There was prey to catch while he was still awake. He padded silently through the camp and slipped through the thorn bush tunnel.
/bleh rushed
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