Posts by cyclonebluster.

Stretching, Cyclonebluster trotted toward the two mollies. A hunting patrol sounded like the perfect distraction from the pain that had invaded the camp, but as Flameseeker offered to join, he found himself reconsidering. "I'll watch the kits," he assured the queen, gaze slipping momentarily toward Featherlight to offer her a greeting. "Make sure they don't wreck too much havoc." A faint smile tugged at his twisted maw as he bent toward his mate, whispering, "Enjoy."

The morning was crisp and fresh. Even before he'd blinked open sleepy hazel eyes, Cyclonebluster had a feeling that the ground would be coated in a layer of frost. Quietly slipping from his nest to sit by the den's entrance, he glanced out. It was hard not to delight in the white flakes settling over the ground. Childish joy bubbled within him as he peered across the snowy field to meet Flameseeker's gaze. Voices sounded in the nursery and, shaking out his fur, he turned to join his family.

"Did you know I'm going to be a great leader like Moonstar one day?" Asphodelkit's voice was earnest as ever. Cy couldn't keep a grin for his maw, ivory features curving up sharply. "I know you'll be good at whatever you do," he purred, moving to affectionately rub against the boy.

Trotting from Asp, he bent toward Fallowkit, aiming to greet her with a soft bump against her skull. "Morning, you. What's your favorite story?"

Unease haunted Cyclonebluster's gaze as Sheepstar sounded his call. It would take time to adjust to hearing Sheepstar's voice in place of Moonstar. Rising to join the gathered warriors and apprentices, he settled attentively beside Silentpaw.

DarkClan lay across Fourtrees and past Mothermouth; outside of gatherings, Cyclonebluster rarely ran into any of them. As much as the clans were connected, they were still each their own groups, separated by blood, culture, and history. As he ghosted through the forest, paws crunching softly over fallen leaves of a thousand hues, the wind nipped at his pelt, carrying a foreign scent toward him. He should have recognized it right away, but although it struck him as familiar, his mind didn't recall a name until the lilac apprentice was already within sight.

"Are you from DarkClan?" he announced himself, seeking confirmation before engaging the young boy further. What might a DarkClanner be doing in this neck of the woods? Apprentices rarely carried news. The situation felt ever so subtly wrong, and his stomach churned with faint unease as he fixed hazel eyes on Pangolinpaw.

//assuming he hasn't pasted the scentline?

The first words that fell from the newly appointed leader's grey glazed lips concerned his future successor. Cyclonebluster harbored few ambitions toward leadership, for he was content with simply integrating himself fully into clan life, yet he nonetheless found himself glued to Sheepstar's speech. Before his curiosity could be fulfilled, two other promotions were announced, and he joined the cheers for Sunspots and Featherlight.

And then, Flameseeker's name. A grin curled over his lips, warmth blooming from deep within him. "Flameseeker! Flameseeker!" His maw burned from stretching so proudly, yet his grin remained firmly in place as he rose from his spot beside Silentpaw and twisted toward Flameseeker, quietly offering, "You'll be wonderful, Flame, you deserve this."

It had been this time of year that Cyclone had first joined ThunderClan, and many of his memories from his first few moons in the clan were set against a snowy backdrop. Snow fights with Astralpaw, skidding across an ice covered camp... As ivory flakes began falling rapidly from the gray sky, he found himself lost in memories beside Batpaw, who seemed less than pleased by the change in the weather. "Not a fan of the snow?" he started to ask, bur he was distracted by Fallowkit's terrified screech.

Blood freezing, he murmured a hasty apology to the obsidian apprentice and hurried to join Shimmersong and Flameseeker in the nursery. "Thanks," he echoed after Flameseeker, a grateful smile sagging across his features as he regarded the colorpoint.

His attention was pulled to his daughter. He bent to offer her a rasp, gently soothing, "You're okay." The words were a balm for him almost more than for her; surrounded by family and friends, Fallowkit had been in no real danger, but adrenaline still pumped furiously through his veins.

The chill nipped at his fur as his paws followed the familiar path toward the RiverClan border. Cyclonebluster had been here many times, both for patrols and just to think, thoughts lingering on his estranged sister across the river. Growing up, he had always been closer to Hailcloud than to any of his other siblings. They were the two youngest, thick as thieves, and had stuck together for moons even as their older siblings one by one left. Although his appearance was most similar to Tempestwing's, his bond with his elder sister was more strained. When he'd discovered that he had become neighbors with her, the silver tabby had been elated, but her decision to side with her clan instead of her family in RiverClan and ThunderClan's earlier conflicts had broken his heart. A yawning gap had developed between them, yet a week after his kittens had slid into the world, he found himself eager to inform his sister.

A warrior had met him by the RiverClan border and he'd explained his desire to speak with the water dwelling group's deputy. The warrior hadn't seemed too happy to leave him by the river, but he'd agreed to deliver the message. As he waited for his littermate to arrive, Cyclone pawed at the frozen earth, eyes flicking impatiently across the turbulent water.

tempeststar.

Cyclonebluster didn't know what it was like to have his father replaced by another cat. He'd been seven moons old when his parents had decided that he and his siblings were old enough to live alone, and although he'd recently been visited by the spirit of his mother, he hadn't seen his father since Amos had left when he was a child.

He'd never been close to Pebblecloud. They'd been clanmates, nothing more. The lesson had been hard to learn but he'd at last discovered the value of clanmates - but that didn't mean he could replace one, and as he'd grown closer to Flameseeker, the fluffy tabby had found himself wondering what her children thought of their relationship. He was the father of their half-siblings, technically their stepfather, but Cy didn't know if he would have wanted someone to replace Amos, especially at that age. He had compensated by doing his best to remain cordial with them, ultimately leaving it up to them to decide whether or not to accept him. The time had long come to take the next step.

Leaving his post outside the nursery, he shook out his messy pelt, searching the camp for Sunflowerpaw and Silentpaw. "You two up for a stroll? Snakerocks should be safer this time of year."

Silentstorm.   sunflowerglow

Cyclone's days were a blur of patrols and games. Where he'd once found the time to linger with his thoughts or relax with Flameseeker, now there always seemed to be something to do. Flameseeker, watching the kits when he wasn't and busy with her new responsibilities, had even more to keep her occupied, and the tom had started to wonder if they would ever have time together like they once had. Perhaps they should have been more careful to avoid pregnancy, but it wasn't as though there was much they really could have done, and their five lively children were a delight - a busy delight, but well worth it.

He had just returned from a hunting trip and was starting to settle down, but as he became aware of Flameseeker's approach, he rose to meet her. "Flameseeker!" he greeted, voice a rumbling purr. He'd heard about Skypaw's death and the newest addition to her family, and his voice was gentle as he asked, "You holding up okay?" Of course not. She had to be a mother for their kits and a deputy for the clan, but she could be herself for him, and he trusted she knew that. "Just tell me what you need." He wanted time with her away from the clan, but if Flameseeker needed to grieve, Cyclone wasn't so heartless as to demand her attention for himself.

Tempestwing barreled down the riverbank with an enthusiasm that gradually eased as she stepped daintily across the stepping-stone bridge. Cyclonebluster's gaze snapped up, leaving the foaming water to lock onto his sister's blue eyes. Her previous burst of energy couldn't possibly be for him - he wasn't in fact sure that the messenger warrior knew (or had mentioned) his name - but although he searched her expression for a trace of emotion that he could more easily understand, he percieved nothing. They had become strangers to each other.

"Hello, Tem." His greeting was noticeably muted, lacking the chipperness that marked his interactions with his clanmates - but strangers or not, he couldn't keep familial warmth from his voice. Head momentarily angling to the treeline behind him as she spoke, Cyclone admitted tightly, "I thought you wanted it like that."

You're not here to start a fight. Chiding himself, he swallowed the familiar accusation. He'd taken to blaming the rift between them on Tempestwing alone, but he couldn't bring himself to bog down this meeting with animosity. "I have news. News and a question. Which do you want first?"

Tem chose to hear the news first, and as he debated the best way to deliver it, she plunged on. Sitting or walking made no difference to him, but the sheer normality of the question compared to the tension that had crackled between them just moments before felt absurd. "Let's walk." At the very least, walking would alleviate the nervous energy jittering through him. "Unless you're tired?" She had, after all, arrived quickly.

"You recall Flameseeker, I presume? Me and her...we've gotten closer. And we just had kits. Tem, I'm a father!" He glanced toward her, anticipating - hoping for - joy. "There's five of them. Fallowkit, Skitterkit, Asphodelkit, Honeykit, and Wrenkit."

"I doubt anyone could not be cold in this weather," Cyclonebluster interjected. His own thick coat was fluffed out against the chill, providing him with a degree of warmth that his shorter-furred clanmates lacked. Hazel gaze rolling keenly over Daffodilpaw, he agreed, "But Cloudpaw's right. You really must be good at hiding it." The apprentice's eyes gleamed with mischief and delight; they appeared to be entirely at home in the cold weather.

Ducking his head to greet Fallowkit, Cy praised, "That's an awfully pretty feather. Where did you find, sweet?"

Cyclonebluster had once thought he could trust BloodClan. The previous leafbare, their then-leader had offered to feed ThunderClan's kits, but there was no such thing as a free gift. He'd been trusting, and he'd learnt better. The recent murder of one of his clanmates (and why? so that a traitor could return to the only group that would harbor him?) only served to reinforce his suspicions.

Slipping over to Flameseeker, he regarded Missy coolly. The apology certainly sounded sincere, but BloodClanners weren't exactly known for their sincerity. "You don't have to associate with him," Cy pointed out flatly. "You don't have to associate with BloodClan at all. Just stay in your twoleg nest." BloodClan corrupted. Give the tortie a few more moons and she would more likely than not join her clanmates in wrecking havoc on the other groups. "Save your apology. It changes nothing."

The last time Cyclone had seen his brother, Hail had been thinking about defecting to RiverClan. He'd never made it, and in the intervening moons, Cy had been kept too busy to wonder what had happened to Hailcloud.

As he strolled alongside the border, double-checking any markings the previous patrol might have neglected, the sound of grunting filled the air. Ears perking, he sniffed the air, eyes growing wide at the once familiar scent of his littermate. As he hurried toward Hailcloud, he became aware of the mewling of a kit and the scent of blood; by the time he arrived, his brother had already started to give birth.

"Hail!" he gasped. A thousand questions bubbled on the tip of his tongue. Bending over his sibling's blue-silver frame, he whispered, "I'm going to get the medicine cat apprentices." There was, however, no need to leave; he was able to turn to the npc who had arrived steps before him, who was more than happy to fetch CLOUDBURST and sunflowerglow

The snow crunched beneath his paws, and not for the first time, Cyclonebluster was silently grateful for his thick coat of fur. The air was crisp, the weather steadily turning colder as winter progressed. Before long, icy winds would keep the Clan's kits huddled against their parents while the warriors groaned about patrols. He could only hope that this leaf-bare would be easier than the previous one, when the Clan had nearly starved for lack of prey.

The sound of jingling rang through the still air, attracting the silver tabby's attention. The sound was unique to kittypets, who often wore bells and charms hanging from their collars. Curiosity quickened his step, carrying him across the snowy field toward the young grey cat hunched miserably within the bare cover of the trees. The cat was trying to stand, a sort of pathetic sorriness clinging to him. Perhaps it was because of this that the warrior kept his tone gentle, despite the fact that the other feline had long since crossed the border. "Are you lost? You've wandered far from the twoleg place."

Cyclonebluster had not been checking the borders but doing his best to hunt when the BloodClan patrol arrived. The voices alerted his target, a small woodland bird, and it took flight - his own fault, for hunting so close to the border. Letting out a quick prayer that his next attempt be more successful, the silver tabby slithered toward the border, taking in the gathered cats with a practiced eye. The BloodClanners were outnumbered, but that had never stopped them from making trouble before, and he fell into step alongside Adderstrike, waiting to see if the city cats would accept Crimsoncry's sound advice.

Cy was alert to every sound that exited his brother's maw, brow furrowed as he puzzled out Hailcloud's nearly incoherent words. "You're here," he assured the former ThunderClanner, gaze darting from the tabby's blue frame as a multitude of warriors gathered around. "You'll get through this, and we'll get you and the cats back to camp." He gently rasped Hail's forehead, trying to comfort his twin as another contraction ripped through him.

Hail's labor seemed worse than Flameseeker's had been just a few moons prior, and although he recalled that Hailcloud had always had trouble birthing his litters, Cy couldn't remember if his last labor had seemed this intense. Doubtfully, he soothed, "You're doing great, Hail. You-you...do you need anything? Water? A stick?"

Cyclonebluster shivered lightly as Robinfoot brushed against him. Her figure was invisible to his mortal eyes, and with no one to blame for the faint feeling against his pelt, he pushed it from mind, easily rationalizing that he'd felt the wind and nothing more. Hailcloud was fading before him, and he could feel his innards freezing, matching the frosted air that characterized the winter day. "Oh-okay," he mumbled in response to Hail, bending to warm one of the kittens.

He could sense the panic rolling off of Cloudpaw in waves, and as the last kit slid out, he returned his stricken gaze to his littermate. That the torbie's umbilical cord was strangling her was beyond his comprehension; he had eyes only for Hailcloud. The blue-silver tabby was fading, and Cy desperately shoved his paws against the male, trying to force life back into the cat who'd been his first friend and closest confidant. "No. Hail. Hail. Stay with me...please..."

He sagged against his brother uncomprehendingly, rousing only as Serpentkit made his needs known. The kits. The kits were nothing without Hailcloud, although he wasn't so irrational as to blame them for his brother's death, he couldn't bring himself to worry about them. The others will deal with them. He...he needed Hail back. He needed Hail.

"That's a nice squirrel." The peeping, childish voice attracted his attention, pulling Cyclonebluster's gaze to the pair of siblings. It was, in fact, quite the opposite of a nice squirrel, and for a long moment the silver tabby caught himself wondering if Snowkit truly believed what he had said. The pair of them were winter children, and winter children rarely knew true luxury until they were well into their apprenticeship. He had his doubts that the scrawny rodent would feed the litter of young kits (the litter dear Hail had died birthing) and he was contemplating voicing his objections when Shimmersong spoke up.

Slipping toward the trio, he agreed, "That looks much more filling." He perhaps ought to say more but Cyclonebluster, usually so verbose, found himself speechless when faced with his nephews and nieces. Casting hazel eyes toward nursery, he pressed, "You guys sure you want to eat all alone in there?" The nursery seemed so lonely at this time of day, with the rest of the clan out and about.