Posts by SILKPAW ?

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dooo it :P
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✯ Oh, it's all good :P

The lack of interested in the tom’s eyes didn’t bother her. Instead, she inclined her head, and said, “Indeed,” and gave her chest an unconcerned lick. “I’ll follow your lead,” she went on. By now she had found a few hunting spots she liked, but wanted the tom to choose first where they would hunt. It only seemed proper, he being a warrior and she not. Besides, she didn’t want to accidentally end up hunting right on top of him.

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✯
The warning that Mistheart gave almost made Silk smile—a lightness about the corner of her mouth, unnoticeable unless you paid close attention. “Some, but not you. It is not advice I would give to everyone. But you, I think, could benefit from a little selfishness once and a while.”

She felt that with Mistheart’s low opinion of herself, a little selfishness would balance her out. Go after the things she wanted if she could convince herself she deserved them. She seemed uncomfortable by the task she’d given, but Mistheart humored her anyway.

“And yet, you could,” she finished, softly. “Sometimes refraining from killing another is just as difficult as taking a life,” and in this singular instance, Silk knew what she was talking about. But Mistheart didn’t need to know about that. “I want you to say the positives next time only. I want you to repeat them to yourself each morning. Do not think of your flaws when you say them. It may seem stupid, it may seem ridiculous. And you will want to stop. But I want you to tell yourself you are the strongest, that you are clever, have a wealth of experience, have a handle on your temper, that you care about your family, that you are cautious, you are loyal to your clan, you are creative and inspired, you will have beautiful kits and there will be others to help you raise them, that you are humble, that not everyone deserves to know how amazing you are, that you are gorgeous despite your flaws, and that you are capable of anything.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Do that for a week. And tell me how you feel.”

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Silkpaw regarded Twoface softly for a moment. She felt that the tom had understood what she had said perfectly. Creating enemies for the sake of enemies was reckless and unwise. But improving their strength, their image to the other clans, cultivating the potential would restore them to a respected name. It might even deter enemies to a greater extent, for the others would fear to make an enemy of them.

She knew that Twoface would understand this. He wasn’t reckless or impulsive. “Precisely,” she said. It was almost a disappointment, but it felt as if the conversation was nearing its end. She paused, tail curling, and then said, “I quite enjoyed our conversation. I do hope you will find me again when something presses on your mind.”

✯ Want another thread, post Raggedstar's death?
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I might've started shipping Silkface? Twosilk? damn she needs her warrior name. Then it could be twomask XD

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Indeed! Really good art Mac!
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✯
Silkpaw strode into the scene, regarding the congregated warriors with a mild interest. The Bloodclanner was obvious, from the thick stench that clung to his pelt to the collar about his neck. She had never seen one, of course, but she knew from whispers and heresay that the felines wore such things. She had often wondered why--wasn't it the mark of a kittypet's enslavement to a twoleg?

But there were more pressing matters. Twoface had bluntly told the tom to turn tail and return home. Her golden eyes glittered, her white tipped tail flicking from side to side. If things turned ugly, there were more than enough of them to take the tom. However strong he was, he couldn't defeat an army on his own. She would have liked to know for what possible reason he would give them such a gift. Surely there were strings attached? "And what," she said, following the words of Goldenlight and Whitestep, "is the price, for a such a double-edged gift?"

She took a seat next to Twoface, eyes flickering to him before back to the Bloodclanner.
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✯
A change had rippled through Twoface, and Silkpaw glanced at him, gold eyes darting. The stutter wasn't good. Without really meaning to, simply because it felt right, her white tipped tail touched his shoulder--like a whisper. It was gone a second later, as she regarded the Bloodclanner.

He wanted to provide catnip in exchange for diplomacy? "Catmint is not the most beneficial herb. It possesses highly addictive properties as I understand," she said. "If it were a bundle of say, more medically important properties, such a proposal would be worth considering," she added, dropping her voice so that she were half speaking to Twoface alone.

With no fully-fledged medicine cat at their disposal, and the harshness of leafbare, the proposal was a serious one. And with Bloodclan always itching to raid others, it would be beneficial avoid becoming their target. Especially so close to the deaths of so many. "Do not distinguish I, from the rest of your clan. Bloodclan must not lead any raids," she added, narrowing her eyes.

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✯

"Clever little one."

The words rang in her mind, and the fur along the nape of her neck bristled. She'd known. While the promise of herbs would have been a nice trade, words in diplomacy were important. She saw the tom tense, aggression rippling beneath the dark pelt. He was angry he'd been discovered, perhaps. His trick had fallen flat. And they had been so close to swallowing his lie. A coldness settled in her veins, her golden eyes freezing. If she hadn't been here, they might have accepted this deal after all.

Her claws released as he stepped closer, tail dancing behind her, but then he removed himself with a threat. So they wanted clans to stop helping each other out, was it? She was fine with that, personally. She'd rather protect their kits, but who was to say they wouldn't attack them anyway?
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✯
Silkpaw approached the tangled roots of the ancient oak tree that marked the home of the clan’s leader. The last time she had stepped foot in here, the scent had been rank with decay and the sweetness of sweat. Now a new scent permeated the walls, but she could taste the final traces of Raggedstar here.

She’d always had a keen sense of smell.

But the place was empty at the moment. Silkpaw took a seat on the ground to wait, the darkly banded she-cat half-hidden in the shadowed gloom. She had quite enjoyed the conversation she’d had with Twoface after he’d been made deputy. Now he was leader. It was a responsibility she hoped he was prepared for—he had been nervous just about becoming deputy. So she would wait until he came back, though she let her long white tipped tail trail out the entrance, dancing as it always did.

An indication she was there? Or was it a lure—sometimes there are no differences to these things.

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Whooo lookin' good :P
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Ooh yes! Badges! [when is that server thing supposed to be done anyway?]

i dunno, how often are choice awards supposed to happen? :P
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Ahhhh that's a good point
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winterpaw wrote:

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tag yesss that always happens to me lol, its kinda creepy O.o

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Hey, so what is the age that apprentices become warriors, again?
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✯
It was true. Silkpaw was still quite young. But then, if this was her in youth what would she turn into? Still, she hadn’t expected to completely change the feline’s entire worldview in a single conversation. She might offer insight, but she knew her limits. So the gratitude was appreciated.

“I’m glad I could be at least a little helpful,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “I’m here if ever you would like to talk.”

Ah, but her question. Well, that preface did nothing to endear Silk to confide in her. What she was able to provide others, she wasn’t able to achieve for herself. That was the price she’d accepted. “I killed a fox, remember?” she said softly. It would have been common knowledge, for the most part. Though she assumed most of the clan didn’t believe it. It was rather unbelievable. An apprentice against a fox?

And yet she had the scars on her back leg and left shoulder, half hidden by her marbled fur.

That wasn’t the only person she’d killed, of course. But it was the only one she’d be telling Mistheart.

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Thanks!

I might have switch up my aging mechanism... real life aging will take SO LONG XD
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✯ This took place pre-Raggedstar's death, in accordance to a plot with officer about Minkkit. We did attempt a thread initially (if you've seen it in the fourtrees area) but muse was an issue. So, officer let me write it out as a one-shot instead :) It's close ended, but feel free to leave any OOC comments and the like! It is inspired by a specific scene from NBC's Hannibal, and does take a few dialogues from it.

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She wore a carefully crafted, delicately refined mask. Not the mar of black that spread across her face like a smear, but a suit. Something else living within the skin of a cat. After all, where was the hissing spitting creature that flipped on a dime to purr and share tongues with the rest? Perhaps that’s what cold logic did to you. It hollowed you out, turned every decision into a calculated risk, each flicker of emotion across her façade a decision.

From a narrowed gaze to the grace of a smile.

But, she wasn’t unfeeling. Not entirely. After all, extreme acts of cruelty require a high level of empathy. And oh, how empathetic she was. Perhaps that was the trade off. She could delve into everyone, see through their eyes as if they her own but the gesture could never be returned. Her walls were thick stone slabs, skyscrapers of icy sleet. Let’s see someone climb this—they weren’t coming down any time soon.

Silkpaw had gone hunting for the clan, or so she had told anyone that had asked. Leaf-bare made such a thing unquestioned. Expected. Encouraged. And she had caught a crow, burying the black creature beneath the snow for later retrieval. But that was all she would catch this evening, as her paws took her to the border and into disputed territory.

She had not attended the gathering, but she’d heard the whispers, thick with drama, and the words of Raggedstar—warning all of Minkkit and her murderous deeds. And all had shunned the kitten. There was nowhere for her to go now. Perhaps that was why she found her scent so easily—it would make sense for her to come back. Come back to her.

Silk reached the place, and spotting a glint of eyes behind the thick of tress said, “Oh Mink. Why didn’t you come to me?”

If the kitten had gone to her the night it had happened, before the deed or even after death was fragrant on the air, she could have prevented all of this. She watched as the kitten rushed to her, burring her tiny face into the white fur of her chest. Little Mink had nowhere to go now. No one would take in a murderer like her. She gave the only comfort she could—the rumbling of a purr in her throat as she let the kitten cling to her like a lifeline.

Silk pulled back gently, her white tipped tail curling around to brush beneath the kitten’s chin. “I’m so sorry, Mink. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you in this life,” she said, golden eyes earnest, gentle.

The kitten whispered something then. Some tearful plea. A desire to go back home. To stay with Silk. Impossible requests. “Hush, my dear,” she whispered, bringing the kitten to her again. “Everything will be over soon.”

And in a single elegant movement, her jaws closed around Mink’s neck and a crack resounded through the trees, as the kitten fell limp against her chest. She eased the two of them onto the snow, brushing a lick across the still warm fur. Oh, how she wished things could’ve worked out for the both of them. She would have liked to see the kitten grow up, cultivate her inspirations.

Now, for the body. Her scent was on the kitten, though if she buried her in the snow that would vanish within a few minutes. And the freezing effect would prevent anyone from knowing when exactly she had died. Or the buzzards could dig her up and pick her bones clean. She could drag her body back, claim to have found her this way.

Or she could make the body vanish, never to be found. All possible choices.

She licked her lips.
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✯
That had been—unexpected.

Silk had gone hunting because that was what you did whenever you wanted a walk, and she’d been drifting along, a black and white band in the snow, when something large and heavy dropped from the tree above her and slammed her to the ground.

It was perhaps lucky that the familiar scent of Shadowclan filled her nostrils, half a second before the tom scrambled off her. She sheathed her claws, and sat up, wincing slightly as she stretched her shoulders.

“You ought to be more careful,” she said, carefully, though the flatness in her voice was disconcerting. Perhaps even more so than blinding anger would have been. Her golden eyes, surveyed Littlenewt and she tilted her head. “What is a blind cat doing out here alone, climbing trees?” she said, her tone regaining its usual tenor. “I can think of little else that would be more reckless than that.”

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LIL' BERRY.

Cute!
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Snakeflower for sure :P
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