ghost from the past (open)

[becky]

h u s hSTORM!

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White, billowing clouds stretched out across the horizon, seeming to bask in the colorful, fading light of the sun and the sparkling twinkle of the stars that had begun to peek out from within the grounds of silverpelt. Dusk had approached, and the sun that had blazed thoroughly against FleetClan's meadows was slowly setting, shedding its last rays of sunlight across the endless sea of grasses. A single silhouette stood out from the beautiful landscape, his broad shoulders blocking out the small circle that was the sun, and his head lifted to stare up at the sky. His lean, slender body was positioned on top of the hill, his white tabby coat gleaming handsomely beneath the fading light of the sun. The deputy's ears were pricked as he stared down at his surroundings, taking on the whole landscape in one swift glance. His body froze when he noticed a figure slinking towards him in the distance. Hushstorm's fierce emerald eyes narrowed in astonishment. It couldn't be...could it? Yes, yes it was. As the figure drew nearer, Hushstorm could better make out the mysterious creature. A flashback came running through his mind, and for a moment the deputy stood, paralyzed, as he reminisced the past.

He was padding across the wide-spread meadow, never having seen such wide open space before. He felt like breaking free, running towards that sun that glared so valiantly down at him. The meadow seemed to go on forever, and excitement had begun to ripple through his short, tabby kit fur. Suddenly, he could scent something. Something he had never scented before. What was it? Well, he was certainly curious enough to find out! He stepped forward, and with a loud gasp, a vicious creature stepped out of the bushes in front of him. It had a narrow snout, with crooked teeth and eyes that showed no other emotion except hatred. He had never seen such eyes. His ribs were showing, and his fur was orange and his chest and paws white. Hushkit had never seen such a unique creature before. But something told him something wasn't right. Soon enough, the fox snarled and leapt towards him. Paralyzed with shock for just a moment, Hushkit unsheathed his sharp tiny claws and slashed at whatever was there, hardly knowing what he was doing. And then cats were flashing by - his clan mates, and they were yowling at him, demanding for him to return back to camp.

He remembered staring into his mother's, Cedarshadow's, eyes, and seeing fear there, and a genuine worry that only a mother carried for her kit. But Hushkit knew he couldn't leave her. Hushkit, against his mother's wishes, hurled himself back into the fray and with all of his kit strength, tried his best to shred that fox to pieces. However, his older clan mates were swiftly getting control over the fox, and soon enough they had begun to chase him out. Hushkit remembered staring after them, his green eyes wide with wander and triumph. His first fox fight! It had been everything Hushkit could have ever imagined it would be! To be able to fight with all your heart and then once you win, find that contentment and fulfillment that gave a warrior its pride. And Hushkit couldn't ever forget that special pride he had felt. The pride of a true warrior. The pride of a simple kit, yearning for that one mark of greatness.

Hushstorm snapped out of the past, and immediately rushed back into the present. The fox was there, clear as day, its snarl having risen in his ginger throat. Hushstorm was, for a moment just like before, paralyzed with, no not fear, but excitement. In one simple moment, Hushstorm's sharp, needle-like claws slid out of his massive paws. His emerald eyes blazed with a new found strength; the strength of a warrior who had grown to be ten times stronger than before. Now, he wasn't a kit. Now, he was the deputy, and that greatness that Hushstorm had yearned so much when he had been a kit, was there, beating rapidly within the chamber of his heart. And so, letting out a low, deadly growl that soon rose into a roar, Hushstorm leapt, soaring through the air and onto the fox that had, at the same time, launched towards its enemy. They met in a ball of fury and ferocity, their growls suffocating their every movement as they thrashed against each other, both craving the other's blood. And as Hushstorm looked into the ragged fox's eyes, that' was when he realized it.

It was the same fox from his past.

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[wren]

Flystar


Little bugs darted between every frond as a slender she cat padded past. Amusement dazzled her gaze as with a single swish of her tail an explosion set off. The clear veins of each insects wings tangled the last of the sunlight and brilliantly made the grasshoppers look like firefly’s. Cinnamon wishers bounced as Flystar shook her ear free of one hoppers misplaced landing. Another whizzed straight in front of her, nearly passing before a streak less dusty orange paw caught it. Ebony claws cut into the heated earth beyond its back. Her hind legs bunched and Flystar leaped away.

Olive eyes took in the meadow like the grasses took in the sun. She was slow as her gazed passed over each light green stem topped with feathered seeds. The little drops caught the wind, still to young to fly, they bent there stems back and forth in an endless wave to the sky. The shadows moved with the ripples and two stray hairs lopped into the fading sunrays. Winter fur flew from there cedar pelts as the pushed past their dark burrow opening. Cold air wrapped over her tongue and filled her lungs. All the good life of breathing came with it accept any but the strongest scents of growing grass.

Flystar’s teeth entwined again. The same old pang twitched; by some twist of fate she lacked any real scenting ability. For the secret world of smell she often relied on Hushstorm to pick out the finer details. Trees cupping fingers tore the sun away and Flystar twisted to glimpse the first warriors appearing between the suns last light. Pride welled in her chest. Thornday, her sister who had died in apprenticeship, could be up there now silently guiding her steps. Although her amber sibling had wasted away on earth Flystar knew she thrived in nights silverpelt.

Her ribs expanded and contracted in a huff as the feline turned back towards her camp. Her eyes closed as she walked, the meadow was one of the most sheltered places in Fleetclan, it produced plentiful amounts of young prey each year and proved to have few stumbles anywhere in it’s sheltering hands. Her ears perked forward, picking up where her vision left off. Scurrying steppes weighed the ground no less then a heart beat and disappeared. Somewhere far off snarls broke out.

Concern seized Flystars easy state of mine. Perhaps it was never a leaders place to be happy in her silent stoles. Even as she rounded, searching for any trace of sound daring to break the evenings settling, her limbs lightened. If this meant trouble for Fleetclan Flystar was willing to face it head on. The fight had begun. Instead of the loud bolstering challenge calls she heard the lower heaver grunts of impact. Her lethal body sized into a run following each tendril of noise back to the source. Dust layers picked up in front of her, the battle was head ahead. A Snarl ripped from her parted fangs and she lunged through the last broken stems.

It was Hushstorm, Flystar immediately recognized the warrior she’d been willing entrust Fleetclan to. His form and unmistakable pelt thrashed against the course red fur of his opponent. A fox. Repulsion sunk her claws out. This dirty creature dripped maggots and vermin as it walked, it’s pointed teeth hungered for any blood it could wrap it’s maw around. She sneered, it didn’t look like those teeth had anything on Hushstom.

With agile timing Flystar slipped forward, dogging around the fight. She kept her weight low, should anything hit her it was unlikely she’d lose her balance. This was no practice battle, a Fox could easily break a leg or leave gaping wounds. Her stance crumpled low, then leapt claws first into the fray, the usual rush of power she felt filled the moment as her lunge collided onto the foxes bony back. She knew what to do, her clan mates moves were as familiar as her own fur. She remembered the feeling of charging upon her enemies, the breeze her warriors paws picked up filling her lungs. A synchronized movement, a show of power from the united will of a clan. She stuck downwards, furiously biting into the thin layer of skin on either side the fox’s back bone.

[becky]

h u s hSTORM!

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The fox snarled with a fierceness that made his heart rate increase dramatically. Raising his claw, Hushstorm let it down hard against the fox's flank, hearing it screech as blood spurted from the wound. No, he was not going to give this fox any mercy. This was a death to death battle, and Hushstorm sure wasn't going to be the one end up dead. Growling with the ferocity of a ticked off badger, Hushstorm felt the fox's jagged claws strike the side of his face. Flinching with pain, Hushstorm swiped his claw across the fox's eyes, attempting to blind it. The fox swerved to the side and managed to miss the blow by an inch. Fox dung! Hushstorm thought, the adrenaline of the fight pumping valiantly through him. Suddenly, the fox tensed and stared past Hushstorm's shoulder, a warning growl rising from its throat. Hushstorm glanced behind him and realized with a shock that his leader, Flystar, had approached the fight. He watched in admiration as she hauled herself into the fray, colliding against the fox and beginning to claw harshly at his back bone. Hushstorm blinked, having total faith in her to help him kill the fox. He had seen her fight before in battle, and there was no denying the fact that she was an impressive warrior. With a snarl, Hushstorm whipped back around and launched himself at the fox, emerald eyes flashing with anger and a fierce amount of malice.

The fox, having yelped the moment Flystar’s teeth had clamped down on his back, thrashed around helplessly between the two warriors until suddenly, his strength crumpled. Growling deeply in satisfaction, Hushstorm leaped over the fox and pinned him down with his claws, head just barely touching the fox's jagged snout. "You're time is over, fox dung!" Hushstorm snarled, his eyes glinting mercilessly. The fox was old, and half-starved, and Hushstorm knew it had no other reason to live. And so, giving the fox a pretty darn good favor, Hushstorm lowered his muzzle and sunk his fangs into its neck. After a couple short moments of extreme blood loss, the fox's body grew limp. A low, gurgling sound came from the fox's throat, before his body went completely still. Hushstorm lifted his head and stared across at his leader, gratitude gleaming profusely in his deep emerald eyes. "Good thing you came." Hushstorm mewed, padding over towards her and wiping his bloody muzzle against the grass. He winced as he felt the claw marks of the fox against his shoulder blade, and a soft sigh escaped his maw.

”That fox was never up to any good,” he muttered, licking the blood off his paw. He looked over at his leader and gave a loud, hearty purr. "I'm sure that fox wouldn't have lasted long if you haven't had came, he was as old as a rumpled badger," he mewed light-heartedly, before adding quickly, "Yet you were great. I would have never thought to attack his back like that, yet he went down like a snap." He gazed thoughtfully at her, before murmuring softly in concern, "Are you all right?" His gentle emerald gaze swept over her body briefly, hoping that he wouldn't find any deep cuts or injuries. Even though she hadn't fought long and it had been an old one, foxes were dangerous species and were capable of inflicting major damage if ever given the chance. Hushstorm, with a couple of major scratches and a harsh bite to the ear, didn't seem to be concerned for himself, however, and instead was focused only on his leader.

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[wren]

Flystar


pulled her teeth free of the corpse’s backbone. For a moment her nose lingered above its bloody gash, the fur parted and waved with her breath. Her tail curled up with a victorious smile, in the segmented bones she could see her bite marks etched. Olive eyes flicked up as Hushstorm spoke. He sounded light hearted, cheerful even as he joked. Silently she wished that was her personality. To go from ripping a throat out to being relaxed like nothing happened, unfazed. Small pearly claws made a ripping sound as she tore them from the old dogs hide. She stepped down into the pool, little rivulets still leaked from the fox as her hind legs propelled her towards onto dry grass.

“Even old that fox knew what it was doing. The thing had a whole life to prefect it’s skill.” Her eyes met his with a cheerful look, as if bringing down an enemy was exactly what her spirit needed. “It didn’t look like you were planning on giving up.” She added thoughtfully, the furry of there claws and fur flashing behind her eyes. “The thing wouldn’t have gotten another paw step into our territory the way you fight.” She smiled and bent to lick a sticky paw. It was time for a self check, she needed to know if even the smallest pain found its way to her legs or claws. They were vital for fighting and as this night proved, anything could happen. But she felt great. Old fighting muscles had been stretched and her mind reveled in the art of battle.

A half clean paw drifted back to the soft grassy fingers of the plains. “I’m all right, the brut never got me.” She answered as her gaze slipped from his and over the bloody marks smearing his fur. Was it fox or cat blood that made the threads of his pelt clump and spike? A small gesture she’d seen earlier became clear; he’d cleaned the stain from his whiskers and winced at the task. “How bout you? Don’t say none of that’s your blood.” Her voice sounded young though she was older then her comrade. It made her sound gentle, worried, the latter of witch grew as the tip of Hushstorms ear slowly darkened. Even at the end of twilight the black marks shimmered like water. She got up with a frown. Light pawsepts carried her next to him, a pink nose twitched as she brushed his shoulder. The blood came from him, the sensitive skin of her nose felt the part beneath his pelt with out touching it. She pulled back smiling weakly with out conviction.

“We still don’t have a medicine cat.” The statement was flat. It was a thin cover for her anger. She needed one, Fleetclan needed one. They were an intricate part of clan life yet she still had failed to find someone new to replace the passing of there last. Each tooth clicked as they scraped over each other. That little fact could kill any one of her warriors at any time. It was disgusting she had let it go so long, eventualy someone would pay the price. “let me see if I can get you some cob webs.”

[becky]

h u s hSTORM!

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Hushstorm could still feel his heart thumping, and the adrenaline that had rushed through him just a moment before had yet to cease. He could still feel the fox’s claws, raking against his shoulder in a painful blast and furthermore causing him to want to fight stronger than ever before. Malicious as it may sound he had enjoyed the feeling of his unsheathed claws striking hard against the fox’s flank, and the sound of its agonizing yelp as the pain was released. It always gave the tom a sense of just how much he was capable of, of how much power he had in him in able to possibly bring the fox down…and even though he had, he knew that he would’ve been able to do it alone, too, if Flystar hadn’t so bravely intervened.

He grunted in agreement to her statement, knowing that she was right. Older meant wiser, and that fox certainly had been through plenty of other fights before to know exactly what to do, despite his withering bones. But like his leader had said, the fox probably wouldn’t have lasted for long, with the WindClan’s deputy fighting it fiercely with tooth and claw. Hushstorm flashed Flystar a grin and mewed, ”You didn’t think I’d let that greedy, foul-stinking, piece of fox dung near our camp, did you?” he teased. He enjoyed talking with his leader, for he cherished his friendship with her more than any other member of the clan, seeing that he was deputy. He was positive that she knew how much she could trust him, and that included making sure no foxes were around to mess with the clan.

But it didn’t seem like a task, not really. He enjoyed fighting, and not to brag or anything but the tom was a natural when it came to it. He had strong, lean muscles, hidden beneath sleek, tabby striped fur, and unusually sharp claws in which it’s only purpose wasn’t just to kill a few dashing rabbits. As a warrior of his clan, and deputy, he had entrusted himself to be able to use them, and well. And in times like this when his skills were put to the test, he was proud of himself for using them to defend his clan, and his worthy dignity. He emitted a slight sigh of relief when Flystar told him that she was fine, and then grinned sheepishly when she pointed out his own welfare.

”Just a couple of scratches, nothing to worry about,” he meowed, stepping forward only to grunt in immediate discomfort. Stupid fox, he mentally cursed. He shouldn’t have let the fox dung get that close. He blinked at Flystar in understanding when she murmured her frustration at still not having a medicine cat. He couldn’t deny it, the clan was growing more and more uncertain at the circumstances, and he knew that if they didn’t get a medicine cat soon, a few will start to protest. After all, how long could a clan stay strong without a medicine cat to heal and secure them? Gently, he laid the tip of his tail against her flank and mewed softly, ”Cob webs will do just fine, Flystar. And I’m sure we'll get a medicine cat soon…StarClan knows the trouble that our clan is in, they won’t let us continue like this for long.”

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[wren]

Flystar


Starclan. The word had such a powerful effect on Flystar. Her only sister thrived there where she had struggled and ultimately fallen on earth. Surely her amber pelted sibling was watching now? It was easy to imagine those twin green eyes staring down confidently. With all the knowledge of Starclan who wouldn’t feel confident? Flystar stared sightlessly at the ground as thoughts jumbled in the privacy of her mind. It wasn’t usual for Quickfoot or even Thistleday to remain silent so long. It was there job to guide a new medicine cat to fill the gaping hole in Fleetclans structure wasn’t it? She didn’t know, it could be they kept quiet because there was nothing more to say.

Don’t think like that Flystar chastised herself. Mentally each darker and darker thought was pushed away. Somehow the young leader had to convince herself, for now, to follow Hushstorms advice. And if it proved to be Starclan had no options she would find a way to train someone to take the heavy position of medicine cat for their clan.

For now though. A hazel orange tail tip flicked to rest against Hushstorms side. She pulled her head up and consciously though of something less dooms-day to say. The sought after words were breathed with a sweet smile, “Don’t think I didn’t see that.” She got up and took a pretend step, the features of her face grimacing as she did. It was a pretty good imitation of her deputies walking. Flystar got up, she definably wasn’t going to let her proud friend try and make it back to camp like that. “I go get those cob webs.”

With a meaningful walk she slipped beneath a thistle bush, eyes hunting the dim innards for silky spider webs. The maze of branches was hard to negotiate. It was just the stuff for building camp walls because it was difficult to get into. The fact that she was tiring to raid spider homes instead of cat dens didn’t make the bush any more forgiving. It wasn’t a wasted move though, old webs retained their stickiness here protected from the wind and dust.

When she emerged bramble stickers clumped on her fur and dirt had smeared her chest. It didn’t matter though, she carried a twig filled with webs and her look was triumphant. “Defiantly not the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” She mumbled and pulled the threads apart to plaster on Hushstorms silver fur. “So while I do this, have you heard anything of interest lately?” She mewed and examined her claws, the threads were getting tangled around her pearly talons. The patch looked good though, a quick once over told her it would stay sealed on their journey home.