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Description

Whitesteps Theme

Listen while you read

The river churned and slapped far bellow at stone walls that towered over its banks. These walls, such odd structures, they could only have been built by the Two-legs, or humans, as some came to call them. Many began to speculate they where built to keep the rivers at bay during seasons of flooding, it was quite an intelligent thing to do. However It made the banks difficult to access, and only could they be reached where the stone walls crumbled, from tree roots that pushed through weakened cracks.

Heavy grey clouds refused to break to clear skies or give into a storm. Instead it drizzled, such a light rain it was nearly mistakable for a mist, and it had been this way for several days. The earth was soaked, trees sagged and dripped, sodden with water, even the air felt damp, cold and moist with each breath. It was quite near the shore, despite the low roar of an angry river bellow, the usual cry of gulls was absent, no life on the banks. Empty, except for a lithe black cat stood atop one of those crumbled walls, he has stiff and still, seeming to take no notice of that rain that soaked through his thin fur. Deadstar was watching the shores intently, white blue eyes wide and slit, unmoving, but it wasn't only the churning waters that set this cat on unease. For even dirty and broken, his white pelt stood out like a sore on the pebbled beach. It was Whitestep, a young Shadowclan warrior who had simply vanished from camp nearly a moon ago. Prior to his disappearance his white pelt had cost them an invasion on Thunderclan territory. Now that Deadstar thought back, it was foolish for the Shadowclan leader to have brought him, such colour, a kit wouldn't have been fooled by his attempt at stealth. How could he call himself a proper Shadowclan warrior if he wasn't gifted with the colours of shadow, of night. He was a stain. Deadstar scolded Whitestep for his carelessness, in front of the entire clan.

The Shadowclan leader drew his lips back, teeth clenched, white eyes wide and unmoving and body rigid. He had hoped for Whitestep to simply vanish, for the Shadowclan leader knew in his gut that if they ever did find Whitestep, he wouldn't be walking back to camp on his own paws. The young tom stood like that, black fur slicked to his body from the moisture, until the rest of his patrol had caught up. Two toms and a she-cat drew near, bounding across the flat expanse of stone to the walls edge and questioning murmur rippled through them at their sudden halt. Suddenly the she-cat let out a gasp of unbelieving horror, such a cry seemed to echo hollowly in Dradstar's ears, distant, it rolled over the river.

"Whitestep! Dear Starclan...that can't Whitestep." Without even a glance at Deadstar the she-cat dashed past her leader, scrambling down the rocky wall, face wide with sorrow and fear. Normally Deadstar would have scolded such rash actions but he stood unmoving, the remaining warriors looked at him with uncertainty seeking some sort of recognition from the black tom, hesitating for a several moments, before they too dipped past him down the shore after their fellow warrior.

The three cats gathered around the white body, and the sobs of the she-cat only confirmed that it was indeed Whitestep who was washed up along the shore. Finally Deadstar dipped his head, eyes becoming narrowed one again and he padded softly down the crumbling wall toward his warriors. His paw steps across the pebbled beach where careful, soft, stones sharp and cold against his soft pads. As he approached the two toms looked to him, while the she-cat remained sobbing, hunched over the broken body, not even acknowledging her leaders presence.

Deadstar finally brought himself to look more closely at the fallen warrior, Whitestep's eyes where glassy and his body looked water logged. Deadstar thought he must have drown, but his face was contorted in a faded look of horror. Silence persisted over them once more as Deadstar studied the scene in front of them from a distance, his face hard, and unreadable. One of the tom-cat warriors finally went to open his mouth attempting to speak his apologies for taking off as he did, but the leader silenced him with a firm flick of his tail.

"Return his body to the camp, be sure to alert his family to return if they are still on patrol." The warriors nodded, turning to murmur for the she-cat to move, she stood reluctant for a while before finally nodding and getting to her paws and the began to drag Whitestep across the pebbly shore. Deadstar stepped back as they passed, keeping his distance from the corpse.

"Will you return with us Deadstar?" The warrior asked before grasping the body once more.

"I'll be back before You reach camp." He remarked, at the pace in which they hauled the corpse. "However, I'll be heading up shore before I return."

The warriors nodded and continued to pull the body forth through the pebbles. Deadstar stood still on the shore, watching until the tip of Whitestep's tail disappeared over the wall. There was a chill on the black toms neck, like an icy breath, and an all to familiar sense came over him, before Shadowclan's leader gave a shake of his ebony pelt and took off, fading into the coming shadows of Sunfall.

The White Warrior plot begins....

Alright! Everyone of AW, or perhaps new members? *Eyebrow wiggle*, our first plot has been set in motion, and will official begin on July 1st when we hold our first clan gathering tomorrow on The Half-Bridge!

So how does this affect your cat? well, thats up too you! Whitestep was a warrior of Shadowclan, some whisper that Deadstar killed him, do you believe he committed the act? an accident? or was something else at work? This is all up to the opinions of your cat! feel free to take action as the plot unravels, it is up to the choices your cat makes on what will occur, so make your choices, investigate, and choose your friends carefully.

Description

Whitesteps Theme

Listen while you read

The river churned and slapped far bellow at stone walls that towered over its banks. These walls, such odd structures, they could only have been built by the Two-legs, or humans, as some came to call them. Many began to speculate they where built to keep the rivers at bay during seasons of flooding, it was quite an intelligent thing to do. However It made the banks difficult to access, and only could they be reached where the stone walls crumbled, from tree roots that pushed through weakened cracks.

Heavy grey clouds refused to break to clear skies or give into a storm. Instead it drizzled, such a light rain it was nearly mistakable for a mist, and it had been this way for several days. The earth was soaked, trees sagged and dripped, sodden with water, even the air felt damp, cold and moist with each breath. It was quite near the shore, despite the low roar of an angry river bellow, the usual cry of gulls was absent, no life on the banks. Empty, except for a lithe black cat stood atop one of those crumbled walls, he has stiff and still, seeming to take no notice of that rain that soaked through his thin fur. Deadstar was watching the shores intently, white blue eyes wide and slit, unmoving, but it wasn't only the churning waters that set this cat on unease. For even dirty and broken, his white pelt stood out like a sore on the pebbled beach. It was Whitestep, a young Shadowclan warrior who had simply vanished from camp nearly a moon ago. Prior to his disappearance his white pelt had cost them an invasion on Thunderclan territory. Now that Deadstar thought back, it was foolish for the Shadowclan leader to have brought him, such colour, a kit wouldn't have been fooled by his attempt at stealth. How could he call himself a proper Shadowclan warrior if he wasn't gifted with the colours of shadow, of night. He was a stain. Deadstar scolded Whitestep for his carelessness, in front of the entire clan.

The Shadowclan leader drew his lips back, teeth clenched, white eyes wide and unmoving and body rigid. He had hoped for Whitestep to simply vanish, for the Shadowclan leader knew in his gut that if they ever did find Whitestep, he wouldn't be walking back to camp on his own paws. The young tom stood like that, black fur slicked to his body from the moisture, until the rest of his patrol had caught up. Two toms and a she-cat drew near, bounding across the flat expanse of stone to the walls edge and questioning murmur rippled through them at their sudden halt. Suddenly the she-cat let out a gasp of unbelieving horror, such a cry seemed to echo hollowly in Dradstar's ears, distant, it rolled over the river.

"Whitestep! Dear Starclan...that can't Whitestep." Without even a glance at Deadstar the she-cat dashed past her leader, scrambling down the rocky wall, face wide with sorrow and fear. Normally Deadstar would have scolded such rash actions but he stood unmoving, the remaining warriors looked at him with uncertainty seeking some sort of recognition from the black tom, hesitating for a several moments, before they too dipped past him down the shore after their fellow warrior.

The three cats gathered around the white body, and the sobs of the she-cat only confirmed that it was indeed Whitestep who was washed up along the shore. Finally Deadstar dipped his head, eyes becoming narrowed one again and he padded softly down the crumbling wall toward his warriors. His paw steps across the pebbled beach where careful, soft, stones sharp and cold against his soft pads. As he approached the two toms looked to him, while the she-cat remained sobbing, hunched over the broken body, not even acknowledging her leaders presence.

Deadstar finally brought himself to look more closely at the fallen warrior, Whitestep's eyes where glassy and his body looked water logged. Deadstar thought he must have drown, but his face was contorted in a faded look of horror. Silence persisted over them once more as Deadstar studied the scene in front of them from a distance, his face hard, and unreadable. One of the tom-cat warriors finally went to open his mouth attempting to speak his apologies for taking off as he did, but the leader silenced him with a firm flick of his tail.

"Return his body to the camp, be sure to alert his family to return if they are still on patrol." The warriors nodded, turning to murmur for the she-cat to move, she stood reluctant for a while before finally nodding and getting to her paws and the began to drag Whitestep across the pebbly shore. Deadstar stepped back as they passed, keeping his distance from the corpse.

"Will you return with us Deadstar?" The warrior asked before grasping the body once more.

"I'll be back before You reach camp." He remarked, at the pace in which they hauled the corpse. "However, I'll be heading up shore before I return."

The warriors nodded and continued to pull the body forth through the pebbles. Deadstar stood still on the shore, watching until the tip of Whitestep's tail disappeared over the wall. There was a chill on the black toms neck, like an icy breath, and an all to familiar sense came over him, before Shadowclan's leader gave a shake of his ebony pelt and took off, fading into the coming shadows of Sunfall.

The White Warrior plot begins....

Alright! Everyone of AW, or perhaps new members? *Eyebrow wiggle*, our first plot has been set in motion, and will official begin on July 1st when we hold our first clan gathering tomorrow on The Half-Bridge!

So how does this affect your cat? well, thats up too you! Whitestep was a warrior of Shadowclan, some whisper that Deadstar killed him, do you believe he committed the act? an accident? or was something else at work? This is all up to the opinions of your cat! feel free to take action as the plot unravels, it is up to the choices your cat makes on what will occur, so make your choices, investigate, and choose your friends carefully.