baby, don't call me your friend

Welcome, visitor. Welcome to a forest where four Clans reside in constant competition, where loners and rogues struggle on the sidelines, where the strong are outmaneuvered by the weak and the brave make their own way through will alone. Welcome to a forest where StarClan does not speak, and no cat knows the reason for their silence. In a forest where nothing is certain, the only constant is the will of individuals to survive because every breath could be their last.

When the ancestors they vaunted went silent, there was confusion at first. Then there was panic and fear, unrest and blame. Moons passed without a word from the Clans' starry ancestors, and tensions rose until at last a bloodbath at Fourtrees put an end to the Gathering tradition. Thus began a period of silence between all the Clans of the forest—one which continues to stretch on with no end in sight.

Now StarClan has been silent for a full year, and chaos still reigns. ThunderClan and RiverClan are on the verge of war, and conflict within ShadowClan has split the Clan into two factions—the believers and the rebels. No cat hears from WindClan any more, as they keep to themselves and their so-called prophet, worshipping her in lieu of the ancestors who no-longer offer their guidance. As falling leaves herald the leaf-bare that is on its way, no cat knows what the coming moons will hold for the forest's four Clans.

baby, don't call me your friend Dec 31, 2014 3:31:30 GMT -5

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Post by hedge on Dec 31, 2014 3:31:30 GMT -5

cherrypaw, medicine cat apprentice of riverclan !
tagged: sheepclaw

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She needed to get out of camp or she was going to scream. Probably at the elders. Wait, no, definitely at the elders. If someone complained about her not getting all their fleas one more time, she was going to lose it. No, she hadn't missed your darn fleas. It was residual itching left over from the bites. All they needed was something to stop the itching and they would be fine. Comfrey root, probably, which she was pretty sure they already had in the den. Chew that up into a poultice, slap it on, goodbye itching and goodbye complaining elders. But she really, really needed to get out of camp or she was going to fire off a round of insults so rough and rude, she probably wouldn't be able to go back into that den until everyone had died off or gone senile enough to forget about her outburst without getting the worst looks ever. Not that it would stop her from going in and doing her job if they did, but it would certainly make her life easier if she got out of camp right then and did anything but deal with her clientele. The little firecracker stalked towards the warriors' den, daring anyone to ask her for help. They could go ask Yewberry. It was his job as much as it was hers, and he knew more anyway. She hadn't learned everything yet. She paused at the entrance, her lithe little form casting a shadow on the cats nearest to the entrance. If anyone was still sound asleep, they surely weren't going to be happy, but she didn't care. She was going to wake all of them up if she pleased. There was no way she was walking the whole way into the back of that den just to drag Sheepclaw's black and white lump of a sleeping body out of his nest so she could get out of camp, find herbs they weren't even out of yet, and find some sort of stress relief. "Hey, Sheepbrain!" She called out, grinning impishly at the cats that grumbled and glared at her call. "Get up, you lazy lump of fur. I need to go collect herbs and Yewberry's too busy." Lies. He wasn't busy at all, but Sheepclaw didn't need to know that.

Unsatisfied with her friend's slow response time, Cherrrypaw let out a frustrated huff and slid into the den, the fluid motion of a cat on a mission only coming to a halt when that familiar black and white mass of sleeping cat came into view. "Come. On. Sleepy. Head." Cherrypaw growled into his ear, poking and prodding at Sheepclaw's side with every word. "If you don't get up and get me out of this camp, you're going to lose an ear and then none of the shecats will want you anymore because you won't look pretty." Wouldn't that just make him squirm. In jest, she nipped at the ear she could reach, grinning the entire time. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep through sharp little teeth in his ear and tiny paws jabbing at his side. He was going to regret not waking up the minute she'd hollered his name, that was for sure. She wasn't sure why being such a thorn in his side was such a fun thing to her, but there were no signs of her stopping. She'd been doing it since the two of them had been old enough to play with each other as kits, and not sharing a den hadn't stopped them when he was still an apprentice himself. Being a warrior got him no reprieve from her taunting and poking and prodding. She had plenty of other choices, but no one else was as fun to bother. No one else actually bothered back, and his responses were just so fulfilling. "Right. Now. Sheepclaw. I'm not asking again. If you so much as ask for five more minutes, I'm going to swat you so hard, Starclan's going to feel it and they haven't talked to anyone in moons."

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