Frostclan: Stay Out of the Shadows -OFFICIAL-

(You know, it did look a lot like she killed him, hm? Aigean: *walks into Frostclan* Hey guys. Oh, and by the way, Phoenixtalon is dead out there. Bye.)

(( My comp. wasn't working when that happened. So a lot of what I say about that event is based off of recaps and inference. :3 ))

Cherrywing gave a loud battle cry, his yowl sending shivers down other warriors' spines. His long, thick tail lashed angrily back and forth and his crimson eyes were set on the camp's exit.

Croí-nimh dipped his head to the she-cat who led his clan, blinking his eyes and the cute black heart covering his right eye could be clearly viewed.

Stoneclaw lashed his tail, ready for battle. Sparrowblaze stood beside him, his eyes gleaming.

Rubypaw and Rivermist stood side-by-side. "Mum, are you sure you're ready for the battle? You always seemed like more of a queen than a fighter," Rubypaw mewed innocently. "You may have never seen it, but I've fought well before. I agree that, yes, I did like being a queen, but that part of my life is over," Rivermist replied tersly, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. Nobody thought she was a great warrior. She would prove it now, fighting with Frostclan until she died.

Opalpaw padded up to her mother and sister. "I may not have lived the longest life, and I may not seem to be the strongest warrior, but just know that I will always love you two. Even if I did seem angry, just please know that I'm not. I don't want either of you to die thinking I was angry. And when we go into battle....I want the both of you fighting with me by my side." She said. And for some strange reason, the blind she-cat actually had emotion in her eyes. A wave of sadness, hope, and pride shone in her usually lifeless eyes.

Rivermist nodded, a sigh of relief escaping her maw. "I love you, too," She mewed. "Has Moonpelt come back yet?" She asked randomly after a moment of thinking.

"No" Rubypaw replied sadly.

(*Has no idea what to post*)

Fallenleaves was digging his claws in the ground, Snowfall was gazing at Cherrywing, and Mossmask was bursting with nervous anticapation.

Her yellowish green eyes flashed with slight fervor, her slick black pelt gleaming in the sun. Her bright ginger tail was fluffed out to twice its size as anticipation ate at her soul, the flapping of tiny wings in the pit of her stomach telling her that the butterflies had arrived. She would be the first she-cat to lead Frostclan as a whole into battle, she would be the next leader. This time is perfect for me to test my leading abilities.....and yet, I feel this burden weighing on top of me. If only Ashcloud were here with me...

She shook the thought from her head, blinking her large eyes as a large white warrior with crimson eyes that glittered with blood-lust walked over.

"Foxtail, we're ready when you are." Cherrywing mewed, his long tail lashing anxiously.

Ri Aigean was rallying her warriors. "For moons, the Irish clans have been peaceful- never fighting unless in the most dire of situations. But today, we defend not only our honor, but the lives of those that sheltered my siblings and me after the fall of the Four Seasons. It was because of these forest clans that I survived, and the reason that we all stand today as one clan: Blossomclan. Today, we fight as forest cats! Today, we fight like true warriors of Frostclan!" She shouted.

"For Frostclan!" Repeated Realta and the small Siamese from earlier, tails lashing.

Croí-nimh yowled out in approval, always agreeing with whatever his leader said. He was, after all, chosen by her to join the clan when he was merely a wandering kittypet. But now, he was a bold, strong, and noble warrior of Blossomclan and he would never want to change that for anything in the world. "For Frostclan! For Blossomclan! For the sake of the forest and plains alike!"

Cúthail Ardaigh's stumped tail twitched, like it always did ever since her accident when she was expecting her daughter. Her dark green eyes twinkled and their crimson spirals seemed as snakes of pure blood wriggling through the emerald fields. Her claws gripped the ground and heavy soil crumbled under paw.

Excitement was coming off Anam Bándearg in waves, the newly appointed warrior proud to serve her clan by aiding another. Surely this, she thought, will lead me to the future of being the next leader! I wonders will I have if I did become leader of Blossomclan...But....I'd have to survive this battle first. Her large ears flicked upward, the heavy tufts upon their tips gleaming in the sun, their tiny dapples of dark cream like little droplets of sunlight.

Cherrywing and Foxtail had rounded up their own warriors, the Frostclan cats not showing any nervousness, only pride and determination. Jewelfire's eyes twinkled, Goldenstreak's fur was bristled, and Honeypaw's claws were ripping at the ground as if it were his enemy. The small golden tom knew he would be out their to heal his injured allies, but he also wanted to at least dig his claws into a cat's flesh.

Disappearing from the ranks where the warriors stood, Honeypaw crept into the medicine cat's den and began gathering the herbs he would need. Side-glancing to the left, he noticed their plump, crimson red gleam in the dim cavern. A slight grin appeared on his face as he slowly padded over to the back of the den and plucked up a large amount of the glittering fruit.

Gravelstar gave a hefty roar, one that surprised most cats thinking he was too old to make such a sound. His eyes gleamed like an amberish orange fire against his cool, mottled gray fur that seemed as stone. As he stood in the bright sun before his clan, it seemed age had taken no effect on the elderly leader as he looked just a young and powerful as any leader. "Cats of Boulderclan. We are and always have been known for our peace and resistance to battle. Yet every time we do fight, we are as stone is against the world, strong and noble. Never crumbling, always victorious! Today, we fight as one with our allies, Frostclan, Flameclan, Mossclan. Even Blossomclan. Today, be as rocks would be! For Boulderclan, the guardians of earth and ore!!!!!!" The warriors roared out like a thundering sky, their bodies pressed up together, looking like one spiny creature with a million eyes.

(I have been neglecting my poor children by leaving you hanging. I have been very... distracted lately but not at the moment.

Yes I can finally think and get this going.

FINALLY.

Bare with me. It's Sunday so I'm going to have to give you something big that will hold you for a few days because, damn, TAFE is getting annoying and I'm almost finished TAFE so I have to concentrate. Only 6 booklets left and a handful of IT work, then I'll be done with it, for a time at least. Then I can work on relaxing and figuring out where I want to go in life.(Also I'm quitting my job because of... stuff that I'm not gonna talk about)

I think I might backpack.... maybe... across northern territory, probably with friends.

I hope that makes sense and I'm not getting to far off topic.

Ok, RP, the finale, something good.... This may take a while and several edits so do not reply unless the word BEGIN is on the bottom on the next post.

Ok that's clear, good one last thing.

Each reply in this is is important, don't rush your self, don't hurry to reply to something. Take your time, think, look at all the sides until your absolutely sure with what you've written.)

Darkness falls quickly in the winter, far to quickly for the liking of most, but for Queen it is perfect.
This area of the Alleys in abandoned by all but the drunkest, highest most revolting Two-Legs and it is just as Sacha likes it. Cold, dark and depressing. Perfect for her final stand. The figurative ball was in her court and it was her who chose the stage. A warehouse, not very creative but it suited her purposes.
Miles and miles of wooden crates stretching into the air and caressing the falling metal roof, forming a twisting maze of splinters and dead ends in the shadowed building.
She was in the middle on it all, eyes closed, just waiting for it to begin.
'You always have to be at the centre don't you?' Half a memory, a whisper of a different time. She'd never replied, the answer had been obvious.

The shadows shifted with the bodies of cats, bright eyes gleaming then disappearing after a split second, part of her wanted to tear out those eyes, she couldn't deal with the feeling that she was being judged. Though she knew they weren't, knew they wouldn't even dare to let the thoughts cross their minds. So weak, so pitiful all of them and their tiny little brains.

She must not drift, must not! Her eyes flick open, her gaze sharpens and her focus returns. No time for drifting. She knows this may be the end, knows there are cats that are not her own -stinking of garbage and their own filth- sneaking among her slaves and her broodlings. If she lives, NO! When she lives she will find them and kill them and it will all be done in the most wonderfully bloody manner.

Focus, focus, focus.

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Waiting, that's always the hardest part. Waiting for that call to go up, to know the battle has begun. They can see faintly the shapes of the Vanguard sneaking up on the warehouse. A mix of FlameClan and Resistance cats headed by the MossClan deputy. Their scents mixing together, making it hard to pin down.

Sagestar thinks this is glorious, deadly, nerve racking and glorious. Foxtail is on her left, Gravelstar and his deputy -she reaches for the name- Gladebound, on her right. Her first warrior is behind her, even to this day she still thinks first warrior. Snowtail is quick and strong and dependable and Sagestar can barely remeber why she banished her and maybe... maybe after this, she can fix her mistake.
The scent on the wind is anticipation, fear and excitement and the air around them is electric, as though a wrong move would set them on fire.

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Rosethorn is suffocating, the stifling tight darkness of the alleys and the air, she feels about ready to choke. But there is some comfort, the brush of familiar pelts. Her sons steady breathing and quiet determination. But it's not right, not without Darkstar, she had barely stopped herself from calling him a coward.
She's going to die, not now, not in this battle....
Soon
She's going to die,
and
she is aware.

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Raven can not remeber who he is.
He is a kit, curled in a box waiting for the distant ginger tom -father- to return with food.
He is a young cat, and the war has begun.
He has escaped, he is Ravenstrike, he is a warrior.
He can never escape, and he is Raven again.
He is the general, he is a father, he is fighting a hopeless war.
He loses a son, their is hope.
He is all these things and none.
But mostly he is a fighter.

He is waiting, like the others, waiting for the first strike. Then the clans move, and he will attack last. They will crush the queen, they have to crush her. No if's no buts, they will win, they have to.

(BEGIN)

( CLEVER CLEVER GARBAGE TURNAROUND...

I really can't do much until the fight starts... like... they're actually fighting...

Awkward.

Good start, though. *WILL DELETE THIS POST MOMENTARILY* )

The long pelt of the warrior seemed tinged with silver dust, her tail sweeping the ground as she waited for the launch of the attack. Her claws glittered, tipped with the satisfied glow of wispy, ghostly smoke. The aura and souls of them surrounded her. Them. Her true life-long mates through this world and theirs. Friends.

From the stony village of waves,
To the hills, so free;
The long, blood days,
They so sicken me.
To me down here,
When up there, I should be.
My true life, my calling,
With with spirits, I must flee.
To the world of the Dead,
Which is one I only know.
My soul, she pleads;
My life now, only woe.
All those who live and breath and sleep,
This land is foreign, my heart, its said to reap.
And with all the troubles, surely though,
The living, the dead;
Yet myself be thy only foe...

She cringed at the thought, her whole being a fraud; only good for speaking with souls. Her name was a curse, a true thorn among the petals; her presence bring trouble like a thunderous storm.
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His long claws ached for blood to feed their razor edges, his maw curled in a distorted grin as his long fangs were drawn like daggers. Tail lashing wildly, his ear twitched with annoyance at the pause of bloodlust, his whole soul hungering for death at his paws; his dark aura eating away any true compassion for those he loved, his soul growing rancid. To be a murderer, to kill just to do so, has been his dream.......But...........would Mother have approved?

Stoneclaw sighed, glancing at the other cats around him. He knew them well, or did he not know them at all? So many questions unanswered about so many cats. But why should he care? Shouldn't he just worry abput himself and wether he lives? But, for some reason, he feared for the lives of every cat there, even the ones he never got along with. He was even worried about Petalmist, the very cat that ripped his heart out and tore it to shreds.
He sighed once more.
"If I'm so worried about the living, why don't I just die myself?"

"That would only make you long for them more."

Opalpaw stood behind her great-uncle. She sighed, sadly. "It's sad....I never got to know you...I was just.." She was holding back tears. "I was just...in such a state of..." Her voice cracked. She sniffled and collapsed into sobs. "I never got to know you or Bearpelt....I'm sorry."

"Don't cry, little one. We should have made more of an effort. There is still much time. I have a feeling this will not be my last battle. I will battle until Moonpelt returns. She's your grandmother, you know," Stoneclaw meowed solemnly. He seemed to age by moons in that moment of memory.

Bearpelt padded up shakily behind his grand-daughter. "Time is young, the day not sung. Till fright get hold of your heart you shall not depart," He meowed, eyes focused on some unseen object-or cat-in the distance. He shivered all over, as if whatever he was seeing had just given him a fright.

Opalpaw stuck her head up. She longed to see her family all the time. Even if she survived this battle, what if she falls in love? Will she not be able to see her love? What if she had kits? Would she not be able to see her own kin? She wanted to cry, but she had to stay strong.

Bearpelt's ear suddenly pricked. "Those who are blind see the most," He blurted out, closing his eyes. He rested his tail lightly on Opalpaw's shoulder.
Rubypaw watched from a distance, wanting to comfort her sister.
Stoneclaw simply nodded his head.

Opalpaw closed her lifeless eyes.
"The darkness I see,
Enlightens me,
The loneliness I feel,
Isn't always shrill,
It'll only get worse,
As I live longer,
But yet,
It'll make me stronger."

"I'm proud of you, and I'm sure Moonpelt, wherever she is, is proud too," Bearpelt murmered. He looked to the sky, wondering if Icefern was watching him. Opalpaw...could she be Starclan's gift to me? A replacement of Pearlpaw? he thought, glancing back down at the apprentice. No..she is of her own.

"If I make it out of this alive, Darkstar has to give me my warrior name!" Rubypaw meowed to Sparrowblaze. The young warrior chuckled, but worry shown in his green eyes. "What do you think it will be?" He asked. "Oh, I never thought of that...." Rubypaw trailed off.

"If you make it out alive." Sunpaw said solemnly, from where she stood next to Rubypaw. She was shivering slightly, her fur fluffed up. She wasn't trying to insult her friend, she doubted that if Rubypaw died she would survive. After all, Rubypaw was a far better fighter.



Thornheart stood silent, among the crowd of roaring warriors. He wasn't scared, far from it. Nor did he have any lacking of excitement, or battle spirit. Rather, he was unable to speak, to voice a word. There was a grim expression on his face, this day would bring on countless casualties. But is worth it, he knew, for a life under opression, was worse then no life at all, at least that's what he thought.

Yet he couldn't suppress it. The subtle trembling. His whole body shook, yet he did not feel cold. Nor fatigue. It was excitement, anticipation, trepidation. All mixed into one. His claws slid out of his paws and sunk into the ground, biting deep as he tried to steady himself. His neck rolled, as he tried to calm down.

But he couldn't. He wanted it to start. The battle. Then maybe, he would calm down. But at the moment all he wanted to do was fight, he wanted to test himself against the whole of the Rogue Queen's forces, and yes, maybe even the Rogue Queen herself.

Even as the thought infiltrated his mind, he had decided it. His claws pulled eagerly as he stretched his muscles. His target, her, the Queen. She would fall at his paws. Of course, if Raven didn't get there first, nor some other cat. It became a race in his mind. Who could get there first? To the end? To the ultimate battlefield. He belonged there, he knew it. He would find his way there, or else it would find him. Trouble always seemed to have its way of finding him.

Rubypaw's expression suddenly turned extremely serious. "By Starclan I'm gonna make it out of there fucking unscathed. I am not dying before I see the mother that I've lost for so many moons join my clan once again," She growled softly, muscles rippling under her flame-colored pelt.

Sunpaw chuckled slightly. "I'll be happy if I make it out alive." she said with soft smile. She was also surprised by Rubypaw's reaction to meeting her mother. She thought she certainly wouldn't be able to do that, if she was in Rubypaw's position. To so easily forgive her mom. She was sure she would have been more angry, if her mother had left her, for her own selfish reasons.

"She needs a good scratch or two..." Rubypaw muttered to herself, thinking of the beautiful white she-cat with muddy brown paws. "Don't worry about it. I think you'll do just fine!" Rubypaw said after a moment of staring off into space. Insainity must run in my family's blood... she thought.