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Post by crimsonstar on Oct 4, 2011 12:08:05 GMT -5
The familiar darkness fell upon the Clans once more, filling every vulnerable spot. It welled up in corners, expanded in clearings, and snaked through the undergrowth. As tradition went, night claimed the land until the sun would return to take back her throne in the sky. But for now, there would be no spoken words of light or daytime. Right now, right here, history was in the making. She had left the camp at sun-high, accompanied by her elected escorts. The she-cat had powerfully and confidentally began the trek to the moonpool, catching glimpses of mixed emotions from her Clanmates. Sorrow, uncertainty, envy, pride, support... Like a living, breathing thing that stirred within the very hearts of RiverClan. Only two days ago had they mourned and cried for their murdered leader, but their grief did not mask the knowledge that had come into play. Crimsonleaf, the RiverClan deputy, was now to be leader. And that in itself was something to cry about, for some.
Everyone knew Crimsonleaf; it was hard not to, when she did nothing to stay rooted to the shadows. Many had heard her cutting words flow off of a sharp tongue, presenting herself loudly and stubbornly when she wanted to. One might say she was a recalcitrant warrior, arguing and debating topics and views that would sometimes differ greatly from those of her Clanmates. But, at other times, when there were no verbal wars to be fought and no trouble to be found, Crimsonleaf was quiet and kept to herself. Although not entirely detached from her Clan, Crimsonleaf usually just acted as if there was no need of her involvement. However, Crimsonleaf was always there. And everybody knew it. Even so, as she moved up into positions of power, her wild side smoothed over into a more professional outlook. Crimsonleaf was still a hellraiser at times, her old spirit almost constantly clinging to her waiting to be called upon. RiverClan was used to this by now, since she had always been this way since she was an apprentice. Yet the bold she-cat could always receive some gasps of disbelief from the elders by her behavior and words. It was almost like a game.
Today, it was all business. Anyone could see the strong sense of seriousness cemented on her face. And so the escorting party had set out alongside Crimsonleaf, reaching the moonpool by nightfall. For a cat of RiverClan, such a long walk would naturally be tiresome and hard. Through generations of specially constructed builds, Crimsonleaf had inherited the useful advantage of genetically made for endurance. Her shorter and stronger legs could carry her far without exhausting her too greatly, although it had to be exchanged for speed. Crimsonleaf wasn't terribly fast on her paws, but she could make up for that. Dark crimson eyes flashing with sudden excitement and eagerness, the she-cat began to travel down the well-worn path smoothed over many years ago. Her paws slipped into the imprints of long forgotten cats, and she slowly drew to a halt when faint whispers tickled her hearing. Swallowing down her unease, she continued on, down to the surface of the moonpool. A silver crescent lie reflected on its undisturbed surface, the icy image sending a chill down her spine. In
Crimsonstar needs to visit the moonpool, to put to rest any suspicions if she didn't go and to see if she can strike up a bargain with StarClan for nine lives. Crimsonstar will, of course, have some RiverClan cats traveling with her. About two or three; seeing as she wants others to witness her actually going to the moonpool. She will, of course, share a nightmare with StarClan. Whether or not they choose to fall prey to her intimidation is left up to the weaker willed in StarClan. Crimsonstar can sniff out weakness anywhere. But, however, the focus of this thread will not be Crimsonstar and StarClan. This thread, dear children, will concentrate on darkness.
The darkness of decoys, of laws, of lies, and the darkness that is Crimsonstar.
And it is through this darkness Crimsonstar will receive a prophecy, neither from StarClan, nor the Dark Forest, nor any mortal prophet.
This prophecy comes from the mouths that gnaw on the bones of the innocent and savor the blood of fools. Ancient and unknown are they, who hunger and thirst but are never satisfied.
This is what decoy dreams are made of, dear child.
(lol, in other words, this is a WIP post)
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