Posts by _Cypress_

Cy had taken it upon himself to claim a small portion of the groups room, a wide variety of plants and herbs lined his little area. He had taken the time to organize the piles and dried most of them out already, the smell sharp yet comforting. He had his head in a bundle when the large tabby called to his friends, something about robbing a pet store. The charcoal tom lifted his gaze to his half sibling and cocked his head thoughtfully, maybe the store would have some of the ointments his old housefolk had used on his pads when he'd cut them on a broken vase. " You can count me in as well." He flicked his thin tail and carefully extracted himself from his collection. And besides the ointment, he had recently thrown out his old blanket from his room so a fluffy new cat bed would be wonderful.

For the fish? He looked down at the grubs as they slowly squirmed around the dry leaf, twitching his whiskers at the thought of a fat fish. All they had been able to catch recently was the thinning rats, and the stringy taste was burned into the back of his throat. "I'd like that." He grinned. Maybe while feeding them they could snatch up one or two to ring back to the clan, they'd most likely be grateful for the food.

He wanted to help look for the creatures but the though of sticking his paws into the earth brought chills to his spine, even in the quickly heating air around them. "I'll help you feed them, but I'm not to inclined to being a mole today." He purred softly, instead opting to brush the piled up dirt back into holes the molly had already abandoned. The earth had dried in the rising sun's light and clung very little to his short fur.

The necklace was his. He dipped his head kindly to his cousin and gazed down at the jewels, reminiscing on the same types his housefolk had worn when he was a kitten. He lifted his paw to the maroon collar that hung loosely around his own throat, covering the newly healed scars he had unconsciously given himself. Could he wear something so beautiful when he himself was now marred and ugly? He frowned for a brief moment before lowering his paw to once more trace a claw around the gems. "Why are you getting rid of so many things Juno?" He questioned, it seemed the healer was freeing himself from his earthly possessions and that flipped a worried switch in his head.

A quiet shadow had lurked behind the large patrol of cats, watching with hazel eyes fixed on the stranger and ears pressed forward as his own father was spoken about. He had intended to join in with the others in questions and prods but at the mention of Nathanos and the hate radiating off of the pelts of others he chose to remain a silent participant. Pairing the slim charcoal tabby with his half-brother was a pitiful sight, even he knew that. He took after the softness of his mother, no real relation shining through from his brute of a father figure. Maybe that was a good thing? It seemed everyone disliked the late king, yet still held some fear of him. He huffed softly and turned away as Reja welcomed the returning feline, thin tail whisking through the dry brittle grass like a snake.

The heat was getting to everyone it seemed. Cats going off and returning slightly more refreshed and energized, sneaking about behind the backs of clanmates for their own survival. But then again, who was he to judge? He'd been doing the same wasn't he?

Cy pushed his head out of a cat flap and peered around, licking at the remaining drops of milk from his whiskers. Behind him a furious snarl sounded that brought a small smirk to his lips, a fat ball of brown fluff lunged at the cat flap as it slammed down behind Cy as he made his way back out on the streets. Having been the second time he'd stolen the fat toms milk he can see what the kittypet was furious with him. But oh well, survival of the fittest and all that. He didn't bother glancing back, knowing the kitty wouldn't dare follow after the thin tabby with teeth and claws piercing his maroon collar.

A familiar scent hit him as he slowed his trot back home, a scraggly tom cat lapping at a bowl or water catching his hazel gaze. "Sergei?" Cypress stayed where he was, lately tempers were running high and he didn't want the older tom thinking he had intentions of stealing what he had earned. "I see we frequent the same neighborhood." He purred softly, kindly.

The heat was growing unbearable. And it seemed not just to him. Cats meandered about, complaining and panting and coughing. The lack of water was itching at his pelt and caused him to get even less sleep, which was wrecking havoc on his young mind. His own dreams playing out in his head, the prophecy he shared with his brother and the cats of so many different homes was getting to him. He wanted to help his clanmates but he felt so helpless.

He was crouched in the shade of the train station, peering out at the wavy lines of heat cast down by the scorching sun. Once a grateful take away from the cold of leafbare, now a tormentor with no intent to let them live through its torture. But panicked voices drew his ear and he turned to look over at the small group of cats, concern for his fellow felines glazing his hazel gaze. "Everything alright over here?" He inquired, making his way slowly over to Ryland, Anubys, and Rocco.

Cypress trailed over at the call for a patrol, his mouth dry and tail dragging slightly in the dust behind him. The heat was taking it's toll, he felt weak and useless but maybe Wrathion offered an opportunity to do some good. A patrol to Skyclan. Maybe they could find some water along the way? Or even a muddy puddle at this point, anything to alleviate the scratching in his throat. "I'll tag along as well."

It seemed Cy was the first to be beckoned by Penne's call. The charcoal tom slipped from his shadowed corner of the station and made his way over to the molly with a warm smile on his face, a soft purr emanating from his chest as he greeted her. "I'll take one." He sat down with a whisk of his tin tail, resting it on top of his paws. It would be good to have something to do other then wallow in the suffocating heat and wait for death to sink it's claws in. He couldn't be the only cat thinking that the cold embrace would maybe be better then the grasping hand of the sun.

Well Cy had finally been able to close his eyes and fall into an uncomfortable lull of sleep when a loud call jolted him from any sort of slumber. Blurry eyed he glanced around his room, no one was there. Curious. It must have come from the main room of the station, someone being loud enough t wake the dead it seemed. Whatever the case was for the shout it dragged his tired and wary body from the shadow of an old fireplace where he had been hiding from the sunlight, dust clinging to his charcoal pelt as he peered out of the room.

His hazel gaze quickly fell on Penne, the molly seemed to be waiting for someone or something. He had been too drowsy to hear which name she called, so he figured he'd go figure out what was going on. "Waiting for someone Pennie?" He blinked the sleep from his warm gaze and sat beside the fawn female, trying to groom the ash from coat with tired strokes.

Cy had been holed up once again in his little room, but instead organizing his small stashes of leaves and foliage he was brushing crumbled bits of leaf litter from the floor. His hoard, all the hard work he had put into collecting and mentally cataloging leaves had been for nothing, the searing heat had dried up and turned his love to dust. It was heartbreaking really, that the things he loved turned to dust in the wake of these star cat's wrath. He let out a soft sigh and continued sweeping the leftovers out of his room with his thin tail, pausing only when Juno's voice carried into his personal space. The Healer was much louder then normal, he must be calling for an audience.

Leaving his tedious work behind he made his way to the gather cats, stationing himself near Pennie as his cousin spoke. Healer apprentice. His ears perked up. What a role that would be. To heal instead of harm. If only that was the true way of this clan. But he had come to terms with the fact that that could never be. Bloodclan was aptly named in his opinion. As Juno went on the name of the kind molly at his shoulder was called, a purr rising in his chest. A good choice. The fawn feline was kind and had a tendency to make those around her happier. He lifted his tail, about to touch it to Pennie's shoulder in congratulations when his own name passed the Healers lips. He froze, his tail dropping to the dust with a soft thump. Him? A Healer? He blinked his hazel eyes at Juno, speechless for only a moment. "Thank you Juno. I will do my best to make you and the clan proud." He dipped his head, still surprised he had been one of the cats chosen for such a role. If only his mother could see him now. Oh gods, what would his father think.

It seemed the young charcoal tom had arrived late for the fight, showing up just as the dance began. He quietly took a seat beside Ryland and watched the scene unfold with curiosity and slight concern for the quiet Scottish fold. Wrathion was a fierce competitor and Cy had an inkling that his half-sibling wouldn't be pulling his punches. Hazel eyes gleamed with worry but he remained a silent member of the audience. Bleat had called for the sparring match, and and opponent had show up. In all fairness, he did ask for this. But that didn't mean Cypress had to like it.

Cy laid out in the main room of the station, a pool of shadow sprawled out on his side in what little shade the building provided. His room had become unbearably hot, too many windows letting in the scorching rays of sun. It had been nice at first, but now it was a death sentence, one he wasn't too keep on seeing through. He was resting, or trying to rest. There wasn't much for him to do otherwise. He had thought about going out to hunt or to practice some battle moves but decided against both, too stifling out in the open air. Too stifling everywhere.

A growl escaped his throat as he sat up, dust covering his side. Why did they have to suffer so much? What had they done to deserve this kind of torture? Killed? Everyone eventually kills. Stolen? Who hadn't stolen a little something from someone unsuspecting. There was no need for this. This heat. It made his skin crawl and his claws scrap against the hard stone beneath him. Even the usually cool concrete was like laying on a heating pad. He longed for the days in the cool embrace of a upwalkers den. The temperature having always been perfect in his memory. A sigh pushed from his chest as he started grooming his short fur. It was really all he had the energy for at the moment.