Posts by cyclonebluster.

Heat radiated from the inky asphalt of the thunderpath, stinging Cyclonebluster's paws like a thousand burning hornets. The thunderpath; it meant that he was nearing home. He had dozens of memories of the place - of Flameseeker's accident, a sickening mirror of his own; of the time Moonwatcher had saved him from near death, cementing the fact that she bore no grudge against him. Home. Clanmates. Friends. It was these things that pushed him onward, despite the ache in his body and the dizziness in his head. The journey here shouldn't have been so hard, but the fluffy silver tabby had spent the past few moons shut up in a twoleg nest, fed less often than he should have been, always either bored out of his wits or scrambling to avoid a thrown object. Whoever said being a kittypet was fun was wrong. "ThunderClan," he murmured, the word sweet despite the strain it caused on his throat. ThunderClan! He was home, he was back, he was moments away from being reunited with his Clan. The sight of lush greenery had never made him so happy before.

At the sound of his name, Cyclone's head jerked up, hazel eyes snapping toward the approaching figure. There was something familiar about the flower-wearing lynx point, but the weary warrior wasn't sure exactly what it was. Although he'd grown gaunt and his silver and white fur had become matted, Cyclonebluster hadn't otherwise physically changed. He couldn't say the same for Shimmersong; the younger man had barely been an apprentice when Cy had been kidnapped, but he'd lost his childish fluff and had grown into an adult. "It's me," he agreed, parched maw turning up to form a fragile smile. "And you're … you're ... I'm sorry." He couldn't recall, and if he hadn't been so excited to be back, shame would have dampened his mood.

Cyclone understood Moonstar's restlessness. After so long cooped up in just a few rooms, he wanted to ignore his weakness in favor of racing toward the distant horizon; had he not been so exhausted, he might have ran half the way to ThunderClan.

As he waited for Shimmersong's response, he found his gaze slipping past the other male into the wooded area he'd once called home. "Shimmersong?" he repeated, recognition lighting his gaze, and he might have said more if Moonstar hadn't chosen that moment to appear.

Hazel eyes brightening in delight, he forced his unsteady legs to carry him toward the slender tabby. "Moon!" Saying her named solidified the fact that he was home and among friends, and his brittle smile turned real. "Moonwatcher. I missed you." Such open, honest words. Once, he would never have imagined himself saying such words to her, but they'd become the simple truth.

A flash of ginger and a familiar voice pulled his attention from Moonstar. His grin stretched until it was aching, until it felt as though it would tear his face apart. "Flameseeker!" Horror flared in his stomach as he took in her burnt, damaged features, but he hesitated only a moment before pressing himself against her, seeking comfort and offering reassurance. "Spirits, Flame, what happened?"

Because he hadn't eaten a solid meal in so long, Cyclonebluster had assumed that he'd be ravenous. He ought to have known better; after the famine nearly a year earlier, the warriors had needed to weaned back onto to full meals. Time was the enemy of wisdom, though, and he'd inhaled a full vole. Now his stomach was twisting painfully. The warrior wanted to do nothing more than writhe in misery, but he'd always had a practical streak, and he knew he should distract himself. Sluggishly lurching toward the nursery, he called softly, "Any kits want to practice hunting?"

Lunavera

The past few moons had been hard for Cyclonebluster. Trapped inside a tiny twoleg den with two other cats, fed inconsistently, with little to no care when they got hurt, he'd spent every waking moment dreaming of returning to ThunderClan. When the chance to escape had come, he'd taken it, but now that he was safely home, his stomach twisted with guilt as he recalled the situation he'd left the two other cats in.

He'd managed to fitfully fall asleep in a deserted corner of the warrior's den. With the sun still high in the sky, the den was quiet; come nightfall, he'd likely end up sleeping beneath the stars. As he twitched and spasmed, a voice permeated his consciousness. Jerking up, he blinked rapidly, sagging at the familiar sight of Moonstar. "Moon," he greeted, shame leaking into his voice at having been caught napping in the middle of the day. "Of course. What is it?"

Fire? Anxiety flared in his chest, cutting through the weariness that had overtaken him. A thousand questions bubbled to Cyclone's lips, but Flameseeker's response caused him to bite them down. Later. "Okay," he rasped softly, letting the topic rest.

As Flameseeker and Moonstar made plans to return to camp, he felt himself relax. For the first time in moons, he was able to let his brain shut down, robotically following his friends as they began the trip back.

Cy wasn't meant to be out yet, but after so many moons stuck in a tiny twoleg den, he couldn't bear to be confined. He'd left the camp without telling anyone, walking with a shaking gait that slowly became more steady as he moved along. If he fell, the newly returned warrior likely wouldn't have the energy to pull himself up right away, and although that was a very real risk, it was one he'd chosen to taken. He found the woods healing, the familiar beauty of nature cleansing after the damp, dirty conditions he'd grown used to.

As he walked, the windswept silver tabby became aware of two unfamiliar scents. Of course, there were many new scents from his time away, but most of them smelled at least slightly of ThunderClan. These two didn't. He meant to sneak up on the pair, but his paw slipped, landing on a twig with a loud snap. Cyclonebluster hissed, wearily blinking down at the mossy forest floor. How long would it be until he regained his old strength? How long until he could serve his home as a proper warrior again? It wasn't the time for fussing, and he drew himself forward, hazel gaze landing on two young cats. The older seemed to be around the border between a kit and an apprentice; the younger looked almost like a newborn. Dear StarClan, there was no reason such young children should be out alone. Gulping in an unsteady breath, he murmured, "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you two alone?"

Although the only sounds in the warrior's den had been soft snores and grunts, to Cyclonebluster the den had been alive with sound. Much like when he'd first joined ThunderClan, he found himself awakening long before the sun began its morning stretch across the horizon. After half a day and most of a night of rest, his head was starting to feel clear, yet he nonetheless found himself sitting in the forest with no recollection of leaving the camp.

As the sun began to rise, he sat in a cool puddle of shadows by the base of a large tree, dull hazel eyes half lidded as he let his mind slowly clear. He couldn't say how long he'd been meditating when a noise sounded behind him and he nearly jumped out of his skin, back arching and fur fluffing out. A hiss slipped from his maw as he twisted, wild eyes falling on Flameseeker. Even as he tried to calm himself down, his heart beat erratically, unable to let go of the fright he'd just received. "Flameseeker! You startled me."

Moonstar's tone brooked no argument, but even if it had been less firm, Cyclonebluster would have followed her. He needed his emotional needs met just as much as his physical needs, if not more. Talking with a friend could only be healing. As the other cat departed from the den, he took a moment to groom himself, stretching his fatigued muscles and smoothing down his rumpled fur. At last presentable, he made his way out of the den, blinking in the summer sunlight. "It's okay," he assured Moonstar as they left the camp.

Her mention of his time away was met with a noticeable reaction. Ears twitching, his gaze dropped to the forest floor. "I'd rather not talk about it." His voice was low, barely more than a mumble, and when he glanced back toward his companion, his smile was strained. "Why don't you tell me about the Clan instead?"

Had they both been more relaxed and had she bothered to ask him, Cyclone would have assured Flameseeker that seclusion didn't ruin one's nose. He'd been too deeply wrapped in himself to pay attention to outside stimuli until the sound she'd made had permeated his consciousness. Her issue surely was no different.

"Likewise," he admitted, tail gradually rising as he started to relax. At least it had been Flameseeker who had surprised him. The Clan had so many unfamiliar faces, and although he considered himself a sociable cat, it would be some time until he was comfortable around them.

For a moment, he thought Flameseeker was about to turn and leave, and he parted his jaws to implore her to stay. In the end, he didn't need to; she took a few steps closer to him and he busied himself settling back down, trying to avoid staring at her burned features. What had happened? Much as he wanted to ask, it wasn't his place to press. She'd already promised to tell him the story.

"It's hard to sleep," he admitted, gaze drooping. Hard to sleep with other cats around him; hard to sleep when he'd learned to keep one eye half open in case his twoleg returned smelling strongly and in a foul mood. Hesitantly, he continued, "The Clan feels … different now. But I don't know if that's just me."

He hadn't been cleared to return to duty and knew that his body couldn't handle too much work. What Cyclonebluster ought to do was approach Garin for a full physical and obey his instructions until he was given permission to resume warrior duties, but the silver tabby didn't know the medicine cat and therefore had difficulty trusting him. Rather than submit to common sense, he dragged himself into the main hollow of the camp, eyes flashing wildly from side to side. "Is anyone … up for a border patrol?" Just saying the words sent a rush of joy through him. Perhaps he'd only manage to complete half the patrol before he needed to stagger back to camp to rest, but it would be something. It would prove to himself that he was still the capable warrior he'd been before the whole ordeal with the twoleg. Shifting his weight hopefully, he added, "We can check WindClan and then ShadowClan." An ambitious undertaking for one as weak as he was. The border with ShadowClan was one of their bigger borders, but he was determined to check it.

From the thoughtful expression on his fiery companion's face, Cy had an inkling that he might not be the only one who felt that things had changed. The Clan was filled with new individuals, the familiar faces few and far between. ThunderClan's whole vibe was different; what had once been fast-paced and chaotic had become mellow and languid. Although the current pace of the Clan was better suited to his unsteady health, Cyclonebluster wasn't sure that he liked it.

Horror dawned over his silver countenance as Flameseeker outlined the past few moons. Taken by twolegs - had they been anything like the ratty old man who'd taken him from the forest? Had Flameseeker also been left in a twoleg den, squashed into a small, dirty space with other cats, left to her own means as her vibrant fur became matted with dust? The silver and white tabby found himself fighting to keep his composure, rounded eyes drooping downward.

It was difficult to remain silent as the story progressed. Flame's casual mention of her promotion and subsequent trip to ShadowClan made him want to cry out and pester her with questions, and he found himself shuffling his paws as a way to rid himself of his sudden excess energy. He couldn't imagine intentionally leaving ThunderClan, and much as he tried to deny it, he thought that if he'd been in ThunderClan when Flameseeker moved away, he would have had trouble accepting her back. Even now, a faint prickle of discomfort buzzed within him.

Barely a heartbeat after Flameseeker fell silent, confessing her discontent, Cyclonebluster jerked, gaze flying back toward her. "Do you mean that? I - I can't imagine coming back and finding you aren't here." He couldn't imagine that she might wish she'd remained in a ring of fire; it was an idea so bizarre and ill-formed that his mind couldn't wrap around it. Voice low, he stressed, "I'm so happy you chose to jump. Flame, even if the Clan's changed, even if you don't feel like it's right, we can make it better." Find a solution and exerting some control over the emotions that governed them appealed to him, just as doing something for the burnt warrior beside him was appealing.

As his strength returned, Cycloenbluster had found himself walking through the forest more and more often, refamiliarizing himself with the home that he'd had no choice but to forget. Two smells, one slightly more familiar than the other, were carried to him as he swung toward the border, and he found tabby limbs carrying him toward the pair. "I'll fetch one of them," he assured Sunspots, overhearing her dilemma. Running hazel eyes over Arrow, he offered the burly loner a lopsided smile before turning to head back to the camp.

It felt so wrong to be attending a meeting that Blackstar wasn't holding. Moonstar had still been deputy when Cyclonebluster had been kidnapped, and hearing her call for a meeting drove home the changes within ThunderClan. Trotting toward the area, the silver tabby searched for the familiarand soon found himself on Flameseeker's other side, murmuring, "Hey."

It was true that Cyclonebluster would never know how his words affected Flameseeker. All he knew, and all he ever would know, was that he'd meant them wholeheartedly. The ginger tabby been in ThunderClan long before he'd joined, and he'd looked to her first as a role model and latter as a friend. She was someone he could trust, someone he could rely on, and more than that, someone he cared for. If she hadn't remained, he still would have returned to ThunderClan, but ThunderClan would have been ever so slightly less home.

He found himself trying to momentarily press against Flameseeker, gaze trying to catch her drooping eyes. "It's not your fault. Whatever you said, whatever happened, I trust your judgement. You did it because it was right and you're not to blame."

He found his stomach twisting as she spoke about the fires. Cy hadn't been in the clan for them, but he'd seen the devastation that Sheogorath's flames had caused. He'd starved with his adopted home, the misery and all-consuming hunger bonding him to them in a way he couldn't articulate. "Flameseeker," he uttered softly as she continued, but the flow of words kept him silent, listening to the pain that the other warrior had kept locked away.

"You're not a waste. You've done so much for ThunderClan. You're burned because you're dedicated, not because you're ugly." Hesitantly, he added, "And maybe I shouldn't say it, but you've never been ugly. The fire didn't change that … You weren't ugly after you tried to save Dustykit from the monster, and you're not now … And Flame, you learned to hunt again after that. We did that together, and we'll do it again."

Nervous, painful laughter bubbled in his throat but his expression remained solemn as he said, "I never wanted to be taken by twolegs, and I hated every minute of being a kittypet, but what I hate more is that I couldn't have been here to tell you this before. I mean it, Flame."

The warrior hadn't known how uncomfortable he must have appeared - but out of all the gathered, Flameseeker was one of the ones who knew him best. Cyclonebluster found a grateful smile forming on his ivory maw and his tail curled comfortably toward her as the meeting began.

The very first announcement concerned Flameseeker herself, and the fluffy warrior pressed against her, murmuring, "Congratulations." Despite the doubts she'd privately articulated, she was more than capable, and Moonstar seemed to know that just as much as Cy did.

He missed the leader's glance in his direction, attention on the flame colored tabby, but his hazel gaze sprang back toward her as the meeting continued. ThunderClan, it seemed, couldn't go a season without some sort of trial, and this time the problem was predators. His ears swiveled unhappily, expression growing solemn as he regarded Moonstar.

Moons. That was how long it had been since Cyclonebluster had been on a patrol. Although the task was mundane, its familiarity made his heart throb, excitement energizing his weary limbs. After five long moons cooped up in a twoleg den, his freedom of movement severely limited, just walking along the border felt like a miracle. How often, before he'd been forced to live as a kittypet, had he complained about patrols? How often, during his captivity, had he yearned to patrol the borders? Now that moment had come, and despite the lightness in his head, a grin was curving his white stained lips.

FLAMESEEKER -   sheepskin.   Sunspots

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