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Post by Cryaotic on May 24, 2015 9:56:50 GMT -5
 Plateauwind Warrior of Rainclan
"Beautiful."
Plateauwind mumbled under his breath as his honey-gold eyes watched the water roll over the sand, only to quickly retreat again. Newleaf had finally arrived and the warrior could simply not get enough of it. Prey was plump again, and the weather was warm. No more frosty paws on dawn patrols! Life could only get better from this point forward, right? Until it became leaf-fall, and then the much dreaded bareleaf once more.
The slender tom let out a little sigh, he should probably start doing something more productive than watching the water. The short warrior stood up and turned to face the cliffs that ran down the shoreline, maybe he could scramble up there and raid a bird's nest. "That would be a lot of work, and dangerous alone." He noted out loud, as he turned back towards the faded grass that would lead back into the depths of Rainclan territory.
Suddenly, his white-socked paws slipped into a sticky and gloppy mess. "Ew, oh yuck!" The chestnut-brown tom whined, as his paws were sucked into some thick, wet sand. As he would yank one paw free and shake it clean, the others would only sink in deeper. Plateauwind quickly realized that he could possibly be in bigger trouble than he thought. Trying not to become frantic, he scanned the place around him for anything that could help out.
As a Rainclan cat, he knew that the big waters would come right up to the bank and certain times a day, and drain out at others. But the water seemed to be swelling, and slowly crawling over the beach towards the base of the cliffs -- and Plateauwind. "Perfect!" A smooth, old stick laid just out of reach on the drier sand. Maybe he could pull himself out with it? Oh, what was the use, he couldn't reach it. "Hey, is anyone out? I need some help!" The petite tom called out, his voice starting to become a little desperate.
tagged: jay get over here poostain <33 |
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Post by jay on May 24, 2015 18:14:37 GMT -5
| | And....gotcha!
Briarclaw felt a swell of pride in his stomach as the plump bird beneath his paws stopped struggling. Hunting was never something he was particularly good at, so catching something decent was a great accomplishment for the warrior. The large warrior tucked the prey under a bundle of leaves and ferns. He’d come back for it later.
Briarclaw spent the majority of his time outside of the confinements of camp. More-so lately, now that newleaf was in full swing and prey was plentiful. His days were better spent alone, catching a few pieces of prey here and there and avoiding social situations.
At a warrior of 40 moons- one would think they would be well adjusted to warrior life; plenty of friends and more involved with clan duties. Briarclaw however, never really got into the swing of things. He had a hard time communicating, and tended to isolate himself away. He could be cold, and emotionless- and yet, wanted some cats to be around. The warrior sighed, then paused in his tracks. Was that yelling he heard? Briarclaw hurried his pace now, following the sounds of the distressed cat.
At the base of the cliffs, Briarclaw found the source of the sound. Plateauwind was there, in a puddle of goop with the waves slowly creeping up on him. How the younger warrior managed to get himself stuck like this- starclan only knows.
Briarclaw padded slowly up to the younger warrior, a emotionless expression on his face. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. What do you do in these kinds of situations? He stood in silence for a moment, before slowly speaking. “Do you...need help?” His ears flicked, and a flash of irritation flickered across his face. Of course he needed help, mousebrain! Briarclaw cursed to himself- this is why he didn’t like speaking.
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Post by Cryaotic on May 24, 2015 21:29:05 GMT -5
Plateauwind Warrior of Rainclan
A feeling of sudden relief washed over the young warrior as he saw a familiar face peek out from behind the skinny, dry grass. It was Briarclaw, one of the older warriors in Rainclan. Yet, somehow he hardly knew the tom. Not that he wouldn't trust him, or protect him any less than one of his other clan mates, but he always seemed rather isolated. Wether this was to fault on purpose or not, he did not know. Besides, Plateauwind couldn't be more happier to see the grouchy tom now.
Relief was slowly drained into embarrassment as the small tom realized how he looked like a pitiful, muddy mess rather than a fellow warrior. His rich, chestnut brown fur and snowy white belly was matted in filthy clumps, and his eyes strained a desperate look. It didn't help that he was short, either. Plateauwind was up to his belly in the wet sand.
"Uh, yeah. I'm not sure what I was thinking..." The slender tom meowed, humiliation lacing his voice. He gave an awkward chuckle, as one ear began to flatten from the torment of looking like a helpless kit. "If you could hold that stick in my direction, I may be able to get a hold on it." Pleateauwind suggested, after clearing his throat. He looked behind him, only to find that the waters were creeping closer. Is this how prey feels before they're about to die? He wondered, only to then surprise himself with the uncharacteristically morbid thought.
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