Post by rollo on May 30, 2009 12:20:22 GMT -5
It was morning, a crisp, clear morning. The sun had been up for hours yet, and it's heat was just beginning to penetrate to earth, the warm rays descending through the tree tops to grace the forest floor. To Whiskerpool, it was a welcome warmth, indicating that spring was truely upon them, and that the battle against winter had once again been won, at a very small cost to the clan.
He was out of camp, away from the confines of normalacy, of nicecities and regulation of socieyty. Well, not completely. One could never truely escape, not at all. Not even when they died were they granted a reprieve. Warriors were sent to Starclan, where they were sequestered within the ranks of generations upon generations. And the only way to avoid this, perhaps, was to commit some such attrocity that not even Starclan could forgive him. Unfortunately for him, he didn't have what it took to commit himself to that path. There was life within him yet, and, hopefully, he'd never turn into a complete sociopath. Though there were times when he was tempted...
Now, though, now, he could relax slightly. He was out hunting, searching for prey to bring back to his clan and prove that once again, he was a hunter. A stupid male part of him wanted that, perhaps, but it existed. And the only thing that sort of put a cramp in the whole shindig was the fact that he was not alone. Accompanying the slight tabby tom was a larger black tom cat, a fellow clan mate by the name of Darkarm. Though there were those who would easily contest that statement.
Darkarm was not truely a clan cat, some said. He'd been born outside the clan. His father and his mother were not of the forest, and neither was he. He was rogue-born, an outlander, an interloper. He didn't belong. That, in all likelihood, not even Starclan would accept him. Personaly, Whiskerpool thought that it was all a bunch of hooey. Sure, Darkarm wasn't clan-born, but at least he wasn't a kittypet. And he'd proved himself time after time, assuring the skeptics that he could pull his own weight, and more. Really, the only thing the younger tabby warrior held against his companion was the fact that Darkarm's personality left a lot to be desired. Neither of them had really had much to do with each other, and the only reason they were together was because Nightshade has ordered it.
He was out of camp, away from the confines of normalacy, of nicecities and regulation of socieyty. Well, not completely. One could never truely escape, not at all. Not even when they died were they granted a reprieve. Warriors were sent to Starclan, where they were sequestered within the ranks of generations upon generations. And the only way to avoid this, perhaps, was to commit some such attrocity that not even Starclan could forgive him. Unfortunately for him, he didn't have what it took to commit himself to that path. There was life within him yet, and, hopefully, he'd never turn into a complete sociopath. Though there were times when he was tempted...
Now, though, now, he could relax slightly. He was out hunting, searching for prey to bring back to his clan and prove that once again, he was a hunter. A stupid male part of him wanted that, perhaps, but it existed. And the only thing that sort of put a cramp in the whole shindig was the fact that he was not alone. Accompanying the slight tabby tom was a larger black tom cat, a fellow clan mate by the name of Darkarm. Though there were those who would easily contest that statement.
Darkarm was not truely a clan cat, some said. He'd been born outside the clan. His father and his mother were not of the forest, and neither was he. He was rogue-born, an outlander, an interloper. He didn't belong. That, in all likelihood, not even Starclan would accept him. Personaly, Whiskerpool thought that it was all a bunch of hooey. Sure, Darkarm wasn't clan-born, but at least he wasn't a kittypet. And he'd proved himself time after time, assuring the skeptics that he could pull his own weight, and more. Really, the only thing the younger tabby warrior held against his companion was the fact that Darkarm's personality left a lot to be desired. Neither of them had really had much to do with each other, and the only reason they were together was because Nightshade has ordered it.
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Word Count: 427 [RPG Text]
Listening To: Muir Woods|Andrew York
Mood: preppy! jkjk, but I'm happy ^_^
Notes: I have nothing of note to say, save for HUZZAH! Whiskerpool's first role play post!