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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 9, 2009 16:12:25 GMT -5
WOLFPELT
` `PRAISE LIBERTY, THE FREEDOM TO OBEY. [/color][/font][/font][/size] . . . . . . . . . .
` Death. It was such a curious thing. After all, it was what connected all of us together. It is something we all have in common. Something none of us can ever escape no matter how fast we run the other direction. All paths lead to it, no matter how well you did in life. No matter how kind you were, how passionate, how heroic. Nothing matters. Death will always be there to end your hard work, to put an end to your heroic or villainous deeds. You couldn't control it, and maybe that was the reason it always haunted the large tom's mind. Perhaps that is why it consumed every one of his thoughts no matter how joyful or how small. As it was momentarily, twisting itself into the young male's mind and corrupting all the feelings of control or security he had left.
` Leaves shuffled as a massive grey shape escaped the darkness of the trees into a more pleasant atmosphere. In the distance the sky resembled an artist's canvas. The colors spread through out the ocean of blue creating patterns and shapes out of the pinks, oranges, and yellows the sun's setting rays provided. The once large circle now was closer to the earth, dissapearing so it too could receive its own good nights rest, or at least thats what the grey tom guessed. Where else would the grand fireball go? The afternoon was quiet and it was a good night to take a break from everyone back at camp. Sometimes clan life was unbearable. Just before he escaped the walls of the AshClan camp he had watched a poor Queen been beaten by what appeared to be her own mate. She looked as if she could be pregnant too. The tom felt the fur rise on the back of his neck right between his shoulder blades. It bothered him watching his clan-mates - male or female - being treated like crowfood. As he walked he worked his claws into the hardening soil taking out his anger on the earth, which wouldn't complain. It was madness, there had to be a more peaceful time. A more fair time, when both were treated equally. Hopefully one day he would see it. Until then there would be no kits fathered by him. There was no way he would put anyone in that damned den. Pregnancy was like a sentence now, one you did it once there was no leaving it.
` Reaching the top of the hill he settled down on his haunches, parting his jaws he tasted the air for any signs of the prey he was supposed to be hunting for. Whatever, they could choke on a hairball. The sky was still brilliant and looked warmer then the crisp, chilling air that circled around him. He wrapped his tail around himself, trying to lock out some of the cold from invading more of his body. "Damn this, damn it all," his voice cracked slightly as he released his words into the winter air. If Yarrow was so god-damn great then why couldn't he forbid the cold from coming? If he was truly a 'great' God then how come every single one of them in this god-forsaken place had to live in this hell? Why was everyone so okay with this? The male's tail flicked back and forth and a small growl formed in the back of his throat. He couldn't fix all this himself, and he wasn't about to get himself killed. Like always he would just do as he was told to make it easier on himself, though a part inside him knew if he was the opposite sex there would be more of an uprising forming within him. If only he was just that strong...
ooc; open for anyone.
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Post by moonbelly - - - on Nov 9, 2009 20:42:53 GMT -5
Let me tell you a secret - Moonbelly doesn't believe in Yarrow. She never really did. A great God in the sky? It just didn't match up her head. Rather, she chose not to put her faith in anything; that was for the best. Then you could be true to character, and that was exactly what she wanted. Of course, if her secret was discovered she would be executed within a heartbeat. This didn't scare her. In fact, she was... almost excited to die. She wanted to know what happened - would she be re-incarnated to a moth, with starlight-dusted wings? Or a planet, crafted of broken dreams and child's ashes? Absently, the snow-colored she-cat's gaze rose to the silver sky. Thousands of questions buzzed in her mind like bees, never resting; wings humming. "I wish it would snow," Moonbelly thought, twitching her thin, bony tail. With winter halfway here, it meant the tiny Huntress (or Suffragette, really) would loose even more weight. Even now, her shoulder bones stuck sharply out of her filmy skin. All angles, all edges.
Moonbelly walked slowly up Bluejay Summit, listening to the grass cry as she stepped on it. Things were dying all around her - trees stripped of leaves, empty bird's nest abandoned in their slender branches. Her pace was slow, careful. Like she thought something was going to pop out of the rosebushes and devour her. It was so much quieter away from the camp, which she had been banished from since running away the previous night. She'd heard about the rebellion only a few days before and was instantly interested. Since childhood, Moonbelly felt that the treatment of she-cats was wrong and was eager to speak her voice. Now was her chance, and she was willing to fight for her beliefs. Come to think of it, it was probably dangerous to be wandering around Clan territory like this. But it was exciting. It put a spark in her eyes and made her feel important for once. Like she mattered; she wasn't just... Moonbelly. She was Moonbelly! Not only someone, but something as well.
That was why she continued on her journey, her journey to nowhere. And the she-cat nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the other cat perched at the summit. For a second, she froze. Her pallid, comet-tailed eyes grew as big as saucers as she took in the other cat's appearance. She noticed that it was at least two times the size of her, with a thick, gray pelt. By the looks of it, it was a Warrior - a male. Muscles shined underneath this pelt, bleeding power and control and anger. Moonbelly took a gentle step forward, sniffing the air. Her eyes were innocently curious, in their pale, moon-like way. "What are you doing, up here all alone?" The she-cat inquired gently. Her tone was tender and almost raw, the vulnerability in her voice evident. Moonbelly listened to the wind while she waited for the male to reply, if he even felt she was deserving of one. Horrible. |
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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 9, 2009 20:54:22 GMT -5
` The silence was gone, shattered into fragments as soon as the she-cat entered the once calm atmosphere of bluejay summit. Was it possible to find peace anywhere? A sigh racked his frame and he looked over his shoulder at the approaching AshClan cat, a huntress maybe? He had only seen her a few times and hadn't payed much attention to her, she was just another face he couldn't put a name to. His golden pools let her appearance seep into his mind. She was tiny yes, compared to his unnatural bulk. Then again some of the AshClan warriors were tiny compared to him as well, the thought amusing. A sudden wave of confidence rushed over him as he waited to see if the huntress was merely doing her job and going to pass him by or sit down for a nice chat or something. He silently prayed it would be choice 'a'.
` Of course not. Her voice broke the already damaged silence. Go figure, he thought his eyes narrowing into tighter black slits. 'What are you doing, up here all alone?' was the question she asked him. If it wasn't obvious enough. The urge to reply in some rude, inconsiderate snap was great, but he kept himself in check and got to his paws turning himself to look downhill and face the small fragile female head on. "W-well, to escape I-I suppose," he stammered. Foxdung! His deep, rolling voice contrasted with his stammered words. Making him sound younger than he really was. He reminded himself as some little apprentice trying to talk to his first love. It was pathetic. His rounded off ears flicked backwards and his tail flicked with annoyance behind him, but not at the she-cat. It wasn't her fault he was so easily provoked. Maybe she would just think it was 'cute' or whatever and leave him alone. It was probable she wouldn't.
` Feeling kind of rude and strange for just sitting there without speaking after his first somewhat humiliating answer he arched his back, stretching, then walked down the rest of the incline down to join her at the bottom of the hill. Standing at a respectful distance he took one last glance on what used to be a peaceful, quiet sunset and then fixed his gold gaze back on the huntress. "Excuse me for asking," he pronounced his words carefully not wanting to end up looking like a fool again, "What is your name? I don't believe I've caught it..." he finished trying to force a pleasant expression into his unfriendly and troubled gaze. As he waited for her response he let himself drift back into his thoughts. She was an interesting individual. Instead of holding the usual earthy hues of the clan cats she stuck out like a sore thumb. Her pelt was bright white, like those huge puffy clouds seen on those pleasant clear summer days. Or perhaps the freshly fallen snow. Oh and her eyes, her eyes, they were huge and bright blue. Only thing that came to the tom's mind as he carefully studied her was the summer sky. Vibrant and clear. She had some type of feeling that came with her. The tom couldn't quite put his paw on it...
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Post by moonbelly - - - on Nov 10, 2009 16:55:53 GMT -5
"Who is this male?" Moonbelly wondered. Sure, she'd seen him around camp, but like most times, she didn't pay him much mind. To him, she was only another baby-machine, another prize. In turn, she came to ignore every male she saw. Because that's what having no rights does to you; it strips away each filmy, sticky layer of your being until you were nothing but muscles and bones, too tender to touch without damage. Shaking this thought from her head, the silvery she-cat could feel herself being scrutinized under his heavy gaze. The male had dark, thick eyes; they had pupils crafted of sharp brambles and she hated the way he was looking at her. It made her squirm. Although most wouldn't peg her as the conceited type, Moonbelly took great pride in her appearance, particularly her coat. She thought of it as the only pretty thing about her - the rest of her body was bony, sharp. Not fluid like others' bodies, with wave-like curves and swelling hips. No, she was all edges. Dangerous. Where others were graceful, she was awkward and moon-faced - which was actually she received her name. A nice Elder had complimented her on her eyes, but she must have been lying. Her eyes were no more prettier than a moth (which Mo herself actually found to be horrifyingly pretty bugs).
This male, which she instantly assumed was a Warrior, clawed a nervous reply from the bowels of his body. His voice shook, cracked, like a bolt of lightning. "Funny fellow," Mo thought, bemused. It was a refreshing surprise to see an all-powerful male out of sorts like this one. Even so, the she-cat looked around carefully at their surroundings. Long shadows yawned over the dry earth. They were, in retrospect, alone. Confused, Moonbelly cocked her head. "Escape?" she whispered carefully; "Why, from what?" Her eyes stared at the male's gray, angry face. There was a dark energy swirling around his toned body, like a black hole. Black holes, she knew, had a gravitational pull so strong that nothing could resist it. Would she be effected? Would the Black-Hole tom pull her in and never let her go? She blinked, searching his face. He was coming towards her, on the slope of the hill where she was perched delicately.
Moonbelly did not enjoy being physically to toms. The only ones she had ever been in contact with treated her roughly, like she was their prey. Theirs. In the possessive way, not romantic. From those experiences on, Mo figured that if she did not let the males touch her, then she would not become theirs. Her wings would not be ripped from her shoulders, the blood crying out of the frowning gashes. Without contact, she had freedom. The choice was obvious, wasn't it? Thankfully, the tom settled himself a respectful distance from her. Mo's heart sighed with noticeable relief. "So he's different," She inquired to herself, and in that very thought her eyes changed. Now, she looked at the ashen tom with a gently curiosity, almost an affection of sorts. An exploration, if you will. Did he have secrets to hide as well? After all, any other Warrior would've sat right next to her and attempt to court her. By tradition, she was not allowed to refuse. But of course, rebelling was all too much fun to resist.
When the tom spoke again, his voice was different. It sounded more like she expected the first time - deep, throaty, steady. Moonbelly took a minute to register his words, and then she took another minute to settle in for a little conversation. She lowered herself onto her haunches and tried not to watch her leg and shoulder bones poke from her skin like daggers, a road map through her body. "Moonbelly, but most ca -" she had begun to answer his question, but stopped herself. "Most cats," It was incorrect. She rarely told anyone her name. She only spoke if she was spoken to, or nearly alone, like now. The glaring white she-cat swallowed. Her throat felt as dry as sandpaper. "But you can just call me Mo," There. That fit better, a round peg in a round hole. |
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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 11, 2009 19:51:32 GMT -5
WOLFPELT
` `THIS DIRTY TOWN IS BURNING DOWN IN MY DREAMS. [/color][/font][/font][/size] . . . . . . . . . .
` Why would he not want to escape? He turned his head away from her, eyes locked on the painted horizon. Wouldn't she understand first hand? After all, she was a she-cat. A dramatic sigh escaped his maw, his shoulders rising as he inhailed the sweet oxygen around him then sunk back into position as he released it into the cool atmosphere around him. Behind him his fluffed out tail flicked, back and forth then back and forth again. Why would he want to escape? His face turned to look at the female again, his golden eyes full of exactly what he felt. Despair, anger, and annoyance. All he wanted to do was leave, but at the first paw-step he took out of AshClan territory they'd have him tracked down, drug out then fed to Yarrow or whatever the hell was up there. If anything. Another icy wind blasted across his fur, he huddled down into a crouch and fluffed the rest of his pelt. "Your not stupid, so please don't act it," he grumbled, quickly noticing how harsh his words had sounded and how easily she could take it the wrong way and become rightfully angry at him. "You know just as good as i do, if not better, that things are not right. They have corrupted everything our ancestors have worked hard to provide us, and we are the generation to disturb every ounce of anything they did for us," he finished, eyes still locked straight ahead, "You'd know exactly why I'd want to escape, and I got a feeling you'd love to do the same."
` Her name. Moonbelly. He had almost let it slip past his mind, which was far, far from here at the moment. His thoughts over taken by ideas of other worlds or planets. Something besides this place. Once more he was taken out of the present but then snapped back into reality with a harsh jolt. Mo. He could call her Mo. His attention turned to the female in front of him. He hadn't spoken to anyone in at least a good five sunrises or so. His tufted ears were tipped forward and his eyes grew more calm and contemplative. "Mo? huh," was all he replied. The ashen tom looked her over once more, the sharp framed huntress' large saucer shaped blue orbs took up a majority of her head. If freedom had a color he imagined it the color of her eyes, he liked them. They were interesting and had a certain pull to them that made him want to know more about her. More about what was on the other side of those moon like eyes. She was named well. "Wolfpelt. You can call me Wolfpelt. T-Though i believe it's not as creative as your o-own name." There he went again. Stuttering. His tail thrashed angrily behind him. Under his pelt his skin grew hot with embarrassment, hopefully she didn't take much notice.
` Wolfpelt kept his eyes on her this time instead of averting them to the horizon like he had been doing. The sun was almost completely down now, and he knew any time now warriors would be out doing their last patrol of the night and looking for where he had gone, after all he had gone out to hunt before the sun had even begun to set. They couldn't kill him for loitering, well, now a days it seemed as if they could kill you for merely walking the wrong direction, or scenting the wrong prey. "Mo, do you think there is hope? I mean for the generations to come? Do you think there will even be more generations?" he asked softly, golden eyes locked on her own icy blue ones. He had never talked to anyone really, and perhaps he was just sick of keeping to himself all the time. Maybe he just didn't care anymore. So what if Moonbelly tattle-tailed on him and got him in trouble with Feverstar? Who cared. The worst they could do is feed him to a potentially non-existent god. Go for it, he'd even give them a hand and really give them a reason to kill him.
` His tail twitched as the familiar scent of AshClan filled his nostrils. The patrol was on it's way. He turned and looked at Moonbelly, his whiskers twitching. Wolfpelt quickly got to his paws and ran over to where he had buried a sparrow and a magpie a while ago, quickly unearthing it, he came back to where Mo was standing. Dropping the magpie on the earth as well as the sparrow, he nudged the magpie towards her. "Here, take it, and let's get moving, the last thing I need is some nosy warrior," he grumbled padding over softly to her side then taking a few steps forward, stopping, then looking over his shoulder. "Are you coming?" he grumbled between his sparrow.
inspiration: "We Are The Waiting"- Green Day ooc notes: a little better, enjoy :3 reservations: moonbelly, dear. wolf's mood: interested, thoughtful. [/blockquote] |
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Post by moonbelly - - - on Nov 12, 2009 18:15:11 GMT -5
With her large, batty ears acutely erect, Moonbelly listened to the male's suffocated words. Why did always sound so nervous? Surely it couldn't be her? As if to confirm this thought, the star-colored she-cat looked down at herself - her sinewy legs, rat tail and coat. But as she listened to the male's speech, a part of her heart leaped in a nervous excitement, a growing need for adventure. It was only then that Mo realized that she had been given a compliment - one of the few in her life. In fact, Mo was so overjoyed that she sprang to her paws like a frog, and smiled a beaming smile. "Thank you, sir!" she replied, puffing out her chest in the only bit of self-pride she was sure she'd ever experience. Of course, miracles only last a moment - too soon, the happiness rubbed off, like chewing gum or santa clause. There one moment, blink and you might miss it. Too late. Realizing she might have over-reacted a little to the male's sort-of compliment, she swallowed the pride in her stomach. It went down like hurt pride always did; wounded, bloody, scarping the raw flesh of your throat. Without another word, Moonbelly sat back down and collected herself quietly. Her eyes did not move.
Moonbelly did not have to look at the tom when she heard the fremilar sound of determination in his voice. Determination sounded like a dying soldier, the harsh snap of a gun being fired or a mouse's last breath. It was life and death. "Yes, yes," Mo thought quickly, anxiously; "I know exactly what you're talking about... escaping. It seems we both have things to hide." Without looking up, Moonbelly whispered, "I hate the world, too." Her voice was almost too big to fit out her slender windpipe, but she had done it. Who was this tom? She wondered again, looking up at him. He did not appear quite so angry now... he seemed more... broken, perhaps. Like herself, but in a more hurting retrospect. Moonbelly blinked slowly, her eyes lethargic and moth-like. She was being drawn into the electric bug zapper. Around her, the world was slipping away. Darkness was enveloping the pair like a satin ribbon, hiding both their forms in it's slippery fingers. A few stars winked at her from above, including her long-time friend the moon. It was especially bright tonight. Moonlight leaked onto the dry hilltops, illuminating it to a dream-tone silver.
"I do quite enjoy the moon," the she-cat said to no one. Her gaze was focused intensely on the stars, watching their internal fires burn to prevent that world from falling into absolute darkness. Was that why Yarrow, or whoever, had given her this obnoxious-colored pelt? To pull society away from itself? Moonbelly had been mulling over this all her life. However, she pushed it away tonight. After all, she had company! The she-cat turned her attention back to the male when he finally gave her his name. Wolfpelt - "It suites you, sir, don't be ashamed," she replied honestly, offering him a polite grin. Part of what she had said were simply condolences, but most of what she said, she meant. It did fit the husky, independent fellow. In fact, she rather liked it. Mo then realized that she was actually make companions - with a male, of all people. A Warrior, too! Her heart jumped like a banshee at the thought, dying to beat out of her cage of a chest.
You can imagine that Mo nearly died when Wolfpelt offered her his buried kill. It was strictly forbidden for any she-cat to eat the food of a Warrior... did that still apply if he was giving it to her? Mo knitted her brows together, sharp silver eyes clouded in confusion. Hunger pangs twisted angrily in her stomach, rough and rowdy. "Oh, I couldn't -" she started to protest, walking away from the little dead animal. The meat smelled amazing... it had been hours since she'd eat... "I, I... Wolfpelt, I cannot eat that," and the she-cat flattened her ears, as if submitting to the kill. Everything suddenly seemed to be happening so fast, and before she ever could recall Wolfpelt asking her such a thing, he was leading her down Bluejay Summit. The kill was left behind, abandoned... |
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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 12, 2009 20:34:19 GMT -5
WOLFPELT
` `THIS DIRTY TOWN IS BURNING DOWN IN MY DREAMS. [/color][/font][/font][/size] ` She was pitiful. How she treated him like she new all other warriors expected to be treated, how she did everything except kiss his paws. He was sure if he asked her to do that she probably would. The way Mo referred to him as 'sir' was the most pitiful. He had to be only a few moons older then her. Did she even relise this? How pitiful it was to see her so worn....down. It was obvious her spirit and hope. Flickering like a dying fire. The flame vaguely dancing amongst the coals surrounding it. Brilliant, but dying out. If this madness continued her fire would eventually completely die out as most feline's fires would. After these fox-brained loons were done everyone's fire would be out. Even the most burtal warriors would be on their bellies, weeping and cursing what used to be their most beloved idol. Yarrow. Didn't they see this madness? ` His pawsteps were heavy as he made his way silently down hill, tail raised and flicking behind him. Golden eyes peered into the darkness and his ears pricked backwards listening for any sign of the approaching patrol. Nothing. So much for a patrol, they can't even track down felines of their own kind. the words played through his mind, scoffing at the 'mighty' warriors Feverstar had chosen. He flicked is attention back to Moonbelly, whom still seemed to be excited about the whole meeting someone knew thing. He could relate, 'cause even though he wasn't sure about her still, he felt sort of more....feline? I guess. Talking to someone was good, especially when that someone seemed to share similar interests. "What do you think is out there?" he muttered under his breath, looking east into the horizion. The sun had dissapeared by now and only stars and a large moon floated over head. "Do you think there is more to this world?" He questioned once more, glancing around, "'Cause I do," he finished, looking into her deep blue eyes for an answer. [/color] inspiration: "We Are The Waiting"- Green Day ooc notes: finished. Sorry for the crappy responce, my internet is flickering in and out :/ stupid mom's computer. reservations: moonbelly :3 wolf's mood: Calm, Inquisitive. [/blockquote] |
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Post by moonbelly - - - on Nov 16, 2009 21:38:06 GMT -5
Moonbelly stared silently out to the fading horizon, her gaze transfixed. She always loved to watch the moon sneak up from the sleeping hills like a monster, grinning and glowing. Then, the stars would appear like summertime fireflies, flickering and dancing in the sky. Before long, the night was lit up with the illuminant glows from things far away, of which no one knew anything about. Mo loved in particular the way the moon was colored; like the dust of snow or a fairy's mysterious magic, the color of a dying sea, calm and pallid. It always drew her in, and perhaps for that reason she was given a moon-kissed pelt. Her eyes, or so she liked to believe, also seemed very galaxy-like, conceived of comet tails, childish dreams and laughter.
Soon, the light died, and both Wolfpelt and Moonbelly were cast in darkness. She walked at a brisk pace beside him, though she took care not to overtake him. She'd heard stories of Queens and Huntresses that had been punished for 'over-dominance' to a Warrior or someone of higher position. Although she didn't quite peg the stormy, angsty tom to be that sort, she did not want to risk it. Perhaps he was a spy, seeking out the Suffragettes like herself still lurking in AshClan territory. Mo was dying to ask Wolfpelt which side he was on, but there was a thick, rough cork in her windpipe and she couldn't utter a sound. Instead, her throat was arid and bleeding, raw with metaphorical scars; do not speak your mind. It will only get you into trouble.
But then, Wolfpelt asked her a question she hadn't expected. Mo's heart sputtered a bit, like an engine trying desperately to turn over, and finally found it's pace after a few seconds. Her pale ocean eyes were fogged with confusion. Sure, she had thought of it, but no one had ever taken the gesture to ask her. No one ever asked her anything; she was simply expected to do what she was told. Moonbelly licked her lips, tasting the sweet moment on her tongue. Her throat now felt slick, any words could scale it now. She could say anything, it was almost... overwhelming. The white she-cat swallowed and began to reply, drawing out each phrase and syllable so that she knew what she was saying exactly.
"The rest of the world, I would imagine. AshClan is inside a bubble, broken off from earth. They are oblivious in the changes of times and mindset. Rather, they will continue blindly forward in their quest to obliterate the power of free speech and soon, they will collapse in upon themselves," she drew in a shaking breath, blinking; "Out there, I can only wish with all my heart that there is a world where I am respected and listened to, where everything is tranquil and love floats in the air like cherry blossoms. But even that is quite a childish dream... or so I've been told. Personally, I believe that anywhere is better than here."
Moonbelly did not dare to look at the tom after she finished. Her body felt raw and tender, as if with a single touch she could explode. The only thing she could manage was staring pointedly forward, eyes locked and powerful. |
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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 17, 2009 16:45:20 GMT -5
WOLFPELT
` `THIS DIRTY TOWN IS BURNING DOWN IN MY DREAMS. [/color][/font][/font][/size] . . . . . . . . . .
` She was brave, he'd give her that. His optics were locked on her moon dipped pelt, studying her troubled expression as she seemed to be deciding whether to answer him or not. He could see the yearning in her facade, and the excitement seemed to explode from deep within her. Wolfpelt could sense it quite easily. It was almost like feeling an earthquake beneath him, perhaps it was just his good judge of character and his helpful and reliable ability to read a person. It was one of his only gifts really, besides his size, though to him size didn't count it was more of a disadvantage. Finally, the she-cat let the words he figured she had been dying to let loose flow with ease from her jaws and into the silent atmosphere around them. It felt almost as if the whole world was going to break, hanging on every one of her words.
` When she finished, Wolfpelt nodded his cranium, golden pools not even attempting to conceal the admiration he had for her at this point. Even he felt good, it was nice to have someone finally agree with him about something. He wouldn't dare ever tell a male how he truly felt, it was like walking into a snare willingly. The only result would be public humiliation fallowed by death. Which, in AshClan's case would be completely humane and a natural punishment. Once again, the Clan had another major fault. In fact, the whole blasted thing was mouse-brained and Wolfpelt would have nothing to do with any of it. Flicking his eyes to meet her averted gaze a small smile crept across his mug, muscles tugging at the corners in an unfamiliar manner, "It's quite alright Mo, I'm not going to turn you into Feverstar," he joked lightly, a soft purr arose in his throat. His mood was brightened, a more humorous side of Wolfpelt that was hardly seen was let loose. "I, too, feel the same as you, Moonbelly, i respect your intelligence and your ability to not let your mind and uniqueness be annihilated by those fools back inside camp," he replied softly, feeling slightly uncomfortable but continuing, "For some it is hard not to let themselves become lost within this madness, after all arn't we all mad here?" his once light mood fell into neutral tones once more, thus was reflected within his melted gold eyes.
` His tail twitched behind him softly and he looked 'toward the moon once more for an idea of the hour. It was getting quite late and the patrol would be back home at any time now. Why did he worry so much? He was a warrior and they didn't really care where they were. Well, they sort of did, after what happened with that female rouge group - the Suffragettes? - AshClan was deeply angry with them and kept a closer look on things. As if it wasn't already like they were under a microscope as is. Feverstar was rough, though Wolfpelt didn't know him much personally, well at all actually. There was something about that tom that Wolfpelt just didn't like. Particularly the way he ran things. "Mo," he began, facing her ears forward, but then turned away, a smile re-appearing on his facade, "Your alright," he finished a small purr formed in his throat.
inspiration: "Dead!"- My Chemical Romance ooc notes: a little better, enjoy :3 reservations: moonbelly, babe. wolf's mood: happy, inquistive, strong. [/blockquote] |
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Post by moonbelly - - - on Nov 18, 2009 17:35:54 GMT -5
The concept of sympathy was very foreign to Moonbelly. All her life, she was only taught one word – “Yes.” As a she-cat, she was not allowed to refuse things, particularly from males, and was offered no form of an apology or anything from… well, anyone. The word ‘sorry’ was not even in her vocabulary; if she made a mistake she was punished, chagrined for it. Her pride stripped from her mind like skin being peeling from her creamy milk bones, while the inflictor stood with a malicious grin, tearing harder, making the blood flow like tears. She was learning a lesson, they would say. Learning a lesson. That was why, when Wolfpelt first spoke, she about opened her mouth to ask him to repeat himself. She’d never heard a tone of voice like his. Her heart jumped in a rapid confusion, and she cocked her head to the side in that way young children always do. In fact, the more the tom spoke the more her anxiety sharpened to a dagger’s point. On her side? Respect? Was this, was this a joke?
Suddenly, Mo threw back her head and laughed. It was not a little laugh, but a great bubbling one. It floated through the air as though it were flying on a hawk’s wings, rustling the empty tree branches and even sending the moon out of whack. After all, the moon was the silver she-cat’s closest companion and even he had not seen her so out of balance. She laughed so much that her chest began to ache, her throat grew raw and the air around her grew very cold and metallic tasting. It was a sweet sound, like honey or the flutter of a pudgy bumblebee’s wings, but it seemed out of sorts on this chilly winter night; the earth was still, everything enveloped in darkness’ sleepy grasp. Like always, Mo stuck out like a sore thumb. By now, she was used to this, and after a few minutes, she settled down. ”I’m so sorry,” she sputtered helplessly, suddenly thrown in the flurries of panic. ”You must forgive my incessant laughter, I don’t know what came over me… but I suppose… I… were you…” the more she spoke, the softer her lucid, cool voice became. With her eyes glittering in the pallid moon’s glow, she inched so close to Wolfpelt that she could feel his scent curl up her pink nose – pine trees, arrogance and strength. ”Were you… s-serious?”
Moonbelly was so in shock that her voice quivered awkwardly, like a leaf in the wind. Her gaze searched the tom expectantly, praying for the one thing she wanted to see: seriousness, determination, rebellion – anything that could lead to her freedom. If it turned out this guy was a spy, her heart would splinter into jagged pieces while her broken-bird body was shoved back into the cage where she belonged. But, if he... if he was on her side… could there be a possibility of escape? In her mind, Mo had a flash of the two of them crouched low on their bellies, evading AshClan patrols and sharing their joy when they finally reached Suffragette land. But then it was out as soon as it was in; the she-cat shoved it away in anger, thinking, ”Like he would give up his life here, even if he was on our side. He’s got so much going for him.” Moonbelly closed her eyes and sighed shakily, suddenly being able to feel the weight of each bone that made her up – the sharp angle of her shoulder, her spine, as it all poked out of her, exposed.
”You’re alright, Mo.” Her train of thought was snapped by these three words. The snow-colored she-cat blinked, once again thinking she’d heard him wrong. When she swallowed, her saliva felt cold but tasted of blood. ”What?” she managed to say, her tone steely with disbelief. But then, she realized she’d been complimented and her features softened with a genuine Moonbelly smile. ”You, too,” she said. |
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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 18, 2009 20:57:51 GMT -5
WOLFPELT
` `THERE AIN'T NO REST FOR THE WICKED. [/color][/font][/font][/size] . . . . . . . . . .
` The rippling laughter exploded from the moonlight hued feline. Surprised, Wolfpelt leaped to his paws and jumped backwards his tail puffed out two times it's size. Good Yarrow! What on earth has gotten into her! the thoughts spun quickly through his mind as he attempted to regain his normal pace of heart-rate and breath. His eyes still widened slightly as he regained his composure and setteled down on his haunches once more to hear the female's smooth vocals glide from her vocal box like birds on a swift air current. His ashen ears pricked forward, was she being serious? She was apologizing for feeling humor? At first, the young tom couldn't quite justify the reasons for her actions then he rememberd. He might be able to accept Mo, but unfortuently, the other mouse-brained loons back in the camp saw her as a piece of crow-food. So, it was logical for her reaction 'twoards her hearty laugh. She probably dosen't laugh very often... he thought sullenly to himself, looking down at the ground while pushing a small, jagged dead leaf around with his right paw. "There is no need to feel sorry, Mo, you were just...i dunno, happy?" he suggested, still staring at the ground with his eyes blank and troubled once more.
` At her responce to his previous statment, he felt sort of good. He could tell he was making Mo uncomfortable, she was not used to a young tom as himself making positive comments about her, it must have been a shock to her.He wished with all his might Mo wouldn't feel like she did. But it was as natural as her other more regular instincts. She had been trained to feel stupid, worthless, and like her opinion didn't matter. Perhaps neither of them would never see the day when this maddness came to and end, who knew. A sigh racked through the tom's sides and he peered at the large moon over head. It's radiance filled the territory with a majestic feeling, and he couldn't help but to feel cool and collected as he rested beneath the stars with Mo. Hopefully he didn't have morning patrol. That would really be bad. He'd be asleep on his paws! Golden eyes flickered up to meet hers once more, falling over every muscle in her delicate frame.
` "Mo," he started , eyes still gazing her frame. Memorizing every curve and bone, just incase this was a dream of course. "If anyone in camp ever gives you any problems, toms or she-cats, let me know and i'll make them stop," he offered, feeling kind of stupid after saying that. His ears flattened down to his skull and his flesh grew hotter underneath his thick pelt. Hopefully she didn't think he was mouse-brained. He just wanted to help, in any way he could really. Moonbelly was a good-hearted she-cat. He liked being able to talk to someone who understood him, even if this little conversation was going way out on a limb for him. He was glad he took the chance this time, and thankfull it was with the right feline. Any other cat would have laughed the fur right off his back by now. Moonbelly understood him. It was a nice thought. "And I am serious," he finished, a smile touched his bright golden eyes, and his tail flicked confidantly across his front paws.
inspiration: nothing, this time :3 ooc notes: blahhhh! reservations: moonbelly <333 wolf's mood: relieved, content, happy. [/blockquote] |
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Post by moonbelly - - - on Nov 20, 2009 19:28:51 GMT -5
Above her, the stars grinned. They were particularly bright, she noticed suddenly, each shimmering glow around them stronger; rounder. Moonbelly's head was dipped, her eyes wide in wonder. How she longed to be a star, more than she had perhaps wanted to be free from the bubble in which she lived. Sighing, Mo pushed the thoughts out of her mind with disdain and listened to Wolfpelt's words. The night made him seem wiser, as though the energy around him had suffered a cosmic shift. The she-cat blinked, then replied, "Yeah, I guess," He was wrong, of course. Moonbelly had known exactly how she'd been feeling - so shocked and guarded that the emotions bled together into one grotesque puddle of emotion. Her face didn't show this. Rather, it was a blank page, for just a few seconds that if you looked closely enough you could see the vacant set of her eyes, the way they were unblinking and glassy. Gone, gone, gone with the wind. "Vanished," Mo thought.
And then, like a taut rubber band, she snapped back. A smile lit up her face, warm and soothing. It almost seemed to melt the dark around her; stars dripping onto her skeleton like sprinkles. "Like a big brother?" she asked curiously, her voice high and child-like. Mo's tail twitched in delight while she looked at the male in front of her, who had suddenly sprouted wings and appointed himself her guardian angel. She wasn't complaining, of course, it was just... different. What planet had this tom fallen of off? Instantly, a thought scream siren-loud in her mind: "The same one I did," Fear then gripped her throat, it's fingers tight and unforgiving. She'd always known she was different, but here she was, seeing proof in front of her. And it felt like a ton of bricks had slammed her square in the chest. "What if I told you I was hurting myself, Wolfpelt?" her voice was tight and clogged, straining against the emotion. She blinked and blinked and blinked, trying to fight off the feeling that this was all real.
Here it was, the part of her that she hated; the great black beast that lived in her chest. It swelled against her skin and dug it's nails into her bones, tearing her body apart. The monster, it cloaked her a thick, heavy darkness that put a cork in throat and a mask over her eyes. Blind, mute, nothing. Mo focused on her breathing, the slow expanding and emptying of her splintered, shredded lungs. "Wolfpelt, I'm sorry. Sometimes I just don't know what comes over me. I just... I-I'm not always myself." Her voice quivered like a leaf, and her legs shook just as badly. She picked up the pieces of her body. "Thank you so much. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever offered me, and I will hold it close to my heart." she paired this with a slightly forced smile, although her eyes were grateful.
Moonbelly suddenly rolled over in the grass, her belly greeting the night sky with a smile. The rough, dry grass pricked into her back, so it took her a few moments until she found a softer patch and settled herself gently. The night sky seemed to reflect onto the she-cat's papery pelt like a pool of water, the moon masking her face. Slowly, she could feel the monster receding back into the shadowy depths of her heart as she stared at the stars. It comforted her, placed a soothing blanket of happiness upon her form. "Watch the stars with me," Mo whispered gently, a teasing, playful tone in her voice. |
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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 20, 2009 23:04:55 GMT -5
WOLFPELT
` `I FEEL LIKE A HERO, AND YOU ARE MY HEROINE. [/color][/font][/font][/size] . . . . . . . . . .
` "Like a big brother," he repeated, staring off into space once more. A breeze ruffled his ashen pelt, rearranging it and making it stand uncomfortably. Wolfpelt gave himself a good shake and continued to stare out into the distance, his ears flicking around his skull catching all the nighttime sounds around him. Each tiny sound was caught, and processed. Not much was happening tonight. Few nighttime rodents scattered about, but Wolfpelt still being full from the earlier meal didn't care much. He let them be, for now. A wave of relaxation hit him, but was quickly broken by the she-cat's words. What did she mean by that? Wolfpelt quickly faced her, his eyes growing wider. What does she mean by that? he quickly asked himself before getting to his paws to stand by her side, "What do you mean?" he half whispered to her, eyes wide with concern and confusion. Girls, they were so confusing.
` Her white frame shuttered and quaked as she spilled out her emotions to him. Like a raincloud who had been too full for too long, her emotions poured from her like rain, and poor Wolfpelt was just there in the middle of it when no protection or warning. He knew he should comfort her, but how? He had never been in a situation quite like this. Her next words were then spilled from her jaws into the atmosphere. More confusion struck him, more like hail this time. Stinging his pelt, leaving a semi lasting impression on his frame. Not herself? Does she change....personalities? possibilities flew through the tom's head as he tried to solve the puzzle that had so suddenly became Moonbelly. She was so easy to understand, until just a few seconds ago of course. He didn't know what to say. What could he say? What if he said something stupid? Should he say something at all? Well, it would be rude if he didn't right...? The ashen tom kept his eyes glued on Mo, not quite sure as to what she had become. I guess dad was right about one thing.. he thought to himself, sighing on the outside.
` Shortly afterwords she thanked him, and told him it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. Once more, Wolfpelt's skin got hot underneath his pelt, and he felt like a fool. "Y-your welcome," he replied. His damned stammer came back, but he didn't pay much attention to it this time. He was too focused on Mo's newly acquired smile. So that was it? She was better now? He felt his head tilt to the side a little, and his brow scrunch up. So she was normal again? The shortly lived breakdown was now over? Just like that? I guess females do bounce back pretty fast, Dad was wrong about that.. he concluded in his mind. He snapped back to earth to find Mo stretched out on her back gazing at the stars. Looking perfect. Her facial features gentle and happy as if nothing had ever happened. Still confused, Wolfpelt stared down at her watching her watch the twinkling orbs above them. For a second he too looked up at the wondrous fireflies that danced in the sky. Were they truly fireflies? Ones that ventured out too far and got stuck up there somewhere in the atmosphere. I want to be a firefly then... he thought to himself before Moonbelly once more brought him back to earth.
` "Watch the stars with me," her tones frightened him slightly, he had never heard a female speak to him like that. Without endless fear in her voice and using extreme caution when choosing their words. He stood frozen like a fool, thinking about what the other males would do if invited to watch the stars. Most males would have raped her by now, and kicked her all the way back to camp. Beating the fur off her back... he answered himself. He didn't want to act like the other males. So, carefully he rolled sat down before rolling over onto his back, as he turned over he felt her warm body next to his. It felt like fire racing through his veins and he quickly moved away feeling stupid once more. Hopefully she didn't take that the wrong way...perhaps he should cover it up by starting a conversation? Ashen ears flipped back wards and his eyes narrowed. Yarrow, he was an idiot. "Mo, what do you think love is?" he regretted the words as soon as they flowed from his mouth. He slammed his eyelids closed, cursing under his breath. Now she'd think he was out to bang her or something. Uncomfortably, he re-arranged his paws on his chest and kept his eyes locked on the stars, hoping she was too consumed in her firefly watching to hear his previous words.
inspiration: "GIVE IT UP"- HighFlightSociety ooc notes: poor wolfpelt, so confused :B reservations: moonbelly! wolf's mood: confused, startled. [/blockquote] |
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Post by moonbelly - - - on Nov 21, 2009 21:06:25 GMT -5
"Y-you're welcome,"
Hearing Wolfpelt stutter brought a small smile to Moonbelly's face. Something glittered in her silvery eyes; faint sparkles of happiness. She wondered, next, what had caused the tom's nerves. Was it her outburst of sorrow? She wouldn't blame him if he was a little put-off - and she cursed herself for it, a small sour patch of regret growing on her heart like a bad seed. Or was it, by some miracle, her appearance? Moonbelly tired to picture herself in Wolfpelt's eyes - the sharp path of her body, with it's many bones protruding like road markers, to remember where you have previously visited; her dove-white pelt, glowing against the desaturated soil of the world; and her silvery eyes, blended, pallid shades of silvery-blues. Although her heart leaped with joy at the thought of being pretty, or perhaps even... beautiful? "No, no," Mo thought. "No." There was a firmness in her own mind that she did not like, like if she was beautiful, did that take away the rest of her?
When Wolfpelt slid into the prickly grass beside her, she could almost touch the heat swelling of his skin. Transfixed, Moonbelly's gaze fell from the sky to his body, studying each curve of his limb; the way his dark gray pelt almost matched the texture of the grass; his glowing lantern eyes; the way his muscles swelled beneath his skeleton, like a great mass of raw power. He was all meat, and she, just the opposite. Gradually, a fiery blush crept up her neck and caught on her cheekbones, tainting them like streaks of blood. Embarrassed, the she-cat burrowed her head into Wolfpelt's shoulder, her nose touching the grass beneath him. "His fur is soft," she thought absently, blinking. The blush remained on her face, though it was not as hot as before. However, she only tilted her face a little more skyward, soaking up the empty canvas of sky and fat, white moon. Her heart beat in a slow, happy rhythm - was there a way to freeze time? Mo couldn't feel her limbs; all the blood was being rushed to her brain. She was happier than she could remember in years.
But then, just as quickly as it had lasted, it was over. Wolfpelt shifted uncomfortably, and she felt the space between them grow like a weed. The coldness that he left, the indent in the grass - it hit Mo like a ton of bricks, as though someone had just ripped a blanket off her. In response, her body quivered. Her skin felt thinner than ever; a paper layer between the she-cat and the hard earth. Slightly wounded, Moonbelly cleared her throat gently and tried to shimmy past the thick block of pain in her windpipe. Questions buzzed in her mind, but she ignored them, forced herself to stare very pointedly at the sky. Her frazzled mind was interrupted by Wolfpelt's question, a soft, nightly wind in her ear. "What do you think love is?" The words echoed in her mind, a pulsating feeling. "Love?" Moonbelly whispered. Her tone was completely stunned, a faint, smothered thread of voice. Her heart purred in pleasant surprise. Love. There was anxiety dripping from the snowy she-cat's eyes. She looked at Wolfpelt and studied his square face, as if expecting to find the answers nestled underneath his nose.
"What do you want me to say?" The question was perched on her lips like little water droplets, but she remained silent. Everyone knew what love was - it was... it was putting someone else before yourself. It was what everyone wanted. She hadn't been much for love, herself. She wasn't much for anything everyone else wanted. Sighing, Moonbelly sewed the distance between Wolfpelt and herself, welcoming the feeling of his body heat enveloping her with thick, protecting fingers. She rested her head on his chest and whispered, "I don't know," There was a splintered color to her voice. It was small, so small, no bigger than a kit's voice. I don't know. |
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Post by * WOLFPELT on Nov 21, 2009 22:36:14 GMT -5
WOLFPELT
` `I FEEL LIKE A HERO, AND YOU ARE MY HEROINE. [/color][/font][/font][/size] . . . . . . . . . .
` Warmth. It was the first thing that spread through his muscular frame as Moonbelly filled the gap between them, the warmth was closely fallowed by shock. This particular moment reminded Wolfpelt of when he was a kit and escaped camp to go swimming, though it was the middle of leaf-bare. The river had been frozen over with a thin sheet of ice, but Wolfpelt was foolish - more so than now - and tried to walk on it. He fell through, and the icy cold feeling of panic was the same as what he was feeling now. Only back then Goldenwind, his trusty nanny, had been there to save him. Unfortunately he was no longer a kit, and Goldenwind had died moons ago. No one could save him now. His breath stopped momentarily, and his tail twitched back and forth nervously. He had never been this close to any she-cat since his Goldenwind, but that was different. She never told him of the horrors of hormones and what they could do to a she-cat. So here he was, with Mo upon his chest obviously feeling content being there. Oh, Yarrow, if you are real, please help me now...
` Despite his true feelings he couldn't exactly kill the rebellious purr that was forming deep in his chest, sprouting into a deep rumble that he was certain Mo could feel underneath her. It betrayed his true feelings, his true views on what they were doing. Instead instinct stomped it's paw down on everything he believed in, every restriction he had put on himself. He wasn't supposed to ever allow anyone to get this physically close to him. He wasn't supposed to associate with the she-cats, to protect himself more than him. He was a coward, a true coward. He was another much needed warrior that AshClan needed, he would rather keep his home and status then find love in another, or to befriend a female. A sigh interrupted his continuous purr, and he still didn't speak. His conscience swiped at his brain telling him everything happening was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
` Finally all the screaming in his body started to drive him crazy. He flexed his claws, relaxed them, and flexed them, repeating this over and over hoping that eventually he would calm down and enjoy the closeness of a she-cat like every other normal tom would. Every tom in AshClan would love to be in the situation he was currently in. This was what everything wanted right? Everyone. What if he wasn't everyone? Another sigh escaped his lungs before finally, something had to be done about this, "Moonbelly, should we be, uh," he paused, racking his brain for the right words, the correct terms, "doing this, like laying here...like this?" he asked, positioning his head so he could look her in the eye, "Please don't take this offensively, i mean every tom with half a brain would totally be thrilled to be in this position, but..." he stopped once more. What if he hurt her feelings? "I suppose I'm not like most males..." he finished. However he didn't move out from underneath her. That stupid male part of his brain kept him in place. Poor Mo, she'd be so confused and potentially hurt. Why did he have to be such a coward! Why couldn't he just grow up. She-cats didn't have cooties anymore, so what was the deal exactly?
` Wolfpelt kept his golden eyes locked on the small, white bodice of Moonbelly. Her pelt contrasted with his darker coal colored one. She was so much different then him. He admired her, whether he would want to admit it or not. She was so courageous, so kind, so, so....beautiful. Inside and out, he liked her open personality, her curiosity. More so, he felt himself get lost in her large silver blue eyes. Everytime. If this was the case then why was laying with her such a problem? The purr was finally strangled and stopped. His throat felt like someone clawed it up and down. Why couldn't he just break his one rule? Could it possibly be that hard for him? Perhaps he did need some change in his life. No. There was no way. Never. His tail flicked more violently, as he fought with himself mentally. His claws still flexed off and on as he debated whether or not this was a good idea.
` "Mo," he whispered, "Please don't take any of this personally, your an incredibly exquisite a-and amazing creature," he fought for each word, trying to find the best adjectives to describe the female whom was still currently lying onto of him. Her heat flooded through his body, making him feel more relaxed and comfortable than he had been for a long time. If only his brain would stop freaking out. "But I don't think we should be doing this..." he continued, his mind still spinning round and round. He tried to keep his eye on the sky but he couldn't help but fell sick. What in Yarrow's name was this anyways? If only Goldenwind had given him at least one piece of useful information other than telling him kit's tales about why the sky is blue, or why foxes are so mean to cats. "I think you've got the wrong cat..." he whispered faintly, looking away. Hopefully he was just over reacting. Hopefully nothing had sparked inside of that female. Hopefully this is what friendship between the opposite sex was. This could be normal. Something inside of him told him it was much more than normal...
inspiration: "1,000 HOURS"- GREEN DAY ooc notes: he's so goshdarn cute! reservations: moonbelly! wolf's mood: confused, startled. [/blockquote] |
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