Contemplating... [open to all]

[x.yellowthorn.x]

Y E L L O W T H O R N

Change. It is something that comes so rarely, some think it impossible, though we still wish for it, hope for it with all our might. But when it does come, no one expects it; some even hate it. This was the case with the rebellion. All she-cats wanted the change, even if only the smallest, most trivial hair on their body wanted it. However, when something was actually done about it, even the rebels doubted it. Even Yellowthorn, who usually was confident in anything she had at least partially lead; though she wasn't the one who came up with the idea to leave AshClan, she was one of the first to agree with it and had been one of the ones to have fought hardest.

Now here's something about Yellowthorn- she's a leader, not a follower, no questions asked. Even when she was in AshClan, she was always one of the ones to be at the head of every hunt and every battle. She would've made a wonderful leader- if she were a tom, which was exactly what she hated. She wasn't a tom. If she was, she would be able to express her talent as a fighter, maybe even be Feverstar's successor, but as a she-cat, she couldn't even hunt without being ridiculed, disapproved of, and shunned. She saw the rebellion as an opportunity to excel, maybe even to lead. However, she'd still be content as a subordinate. At least being a she-cat here meant that you'd get treated as a living creature, not as a breeding machine. That was why Yellowthorn was determined not to have any kits; it'd be like she was giving into AshClan's traditions, the abuse, the discrimination. It was her job to fight back, not to relent.

But now as Yellowthorn sat in the quarry, contemplating what had happened, she doubted. Doubted all of her endeavors, all of the hardships she had gone through to get to this moment, when she would be free. She considered giving up, just going back to the clan, begging with all sincerity for forgiveness and to return as a queen. She shook the thought off almost before it could be formed; doing so would go against every one of her ethics, not to mention totally ruining her dignity. It was too late to back down now. She had to stay strong, if not for her, for the others. She may not have been the Suffragette's leader, but she was respected all the same; it was possible that if she faltered the others would too. After all, the apprentices needed a strong role-model and the queens and nannies were never taught to hunt. She was Yellowthorn, one of the most courageous and experienced huntresses. She should act like it.

word count;; 460
muse;; high~ ;3
comments;; FLUFF!!!

[← robin ;; AWAY FEW DAYS]

even if i say it will be alright

The bicolored tom pushed his way through the undergrowth, ginger and white patches making him quite the sight among tabby pelts of his Clan. His whiskers twitched as he observed his namesake taking flight through the trees and above -- a robin, just as he was Robinmask.

He was one of those who sympathized with the she-cats, the strong ones, at least; some he had no pity for, the nanny ninnies that were completey okay with their lifestyle. What was the point of that? But the strong ones, the Huntresses especially, he secretly felt for -- the ones that were taunted despite their efforts. Sure, warrior toms hunted for sport or "to feed the Clan", but it was the Huntresses who actually made sure everyone had a full belly. It would make a difference if the arrogant felines got off their high horses and actually saw things equally. It would make a difference to himself -- he would have more friends like himself instead of having to spend time with females and apprentices. Though Robinmask meant no offense or disrespect, having things in common with another cat would be appreciated.

His nose twitched, and he opened his mouth slightly to scent the air. The distinct tang of the quarry mingled with the smell of another cat. One he hadn't actually known for a while, at least since the suffragettes had left the Clan. Mouse-dung, he swore inwardly, I'm in Suffragette territory! He wasn't used to anyone else staking blantant territory beside themselves, AshClan, and before this he'd wandered these woods without worrying about boundaries. At the same time sympathy welled up inside of him, an urge to prove himself could be felt just as strong. Hackles raised slightly, he made no sound -- just hoping that he wouldn't be noticed before he could escape.

still i hear you say you don't want to fight