[lionstar]

Lionstar

Outlook rock was one of Lionstar's favorite places. The wind ruffled her fur, and the leader sat tall, staring out over the moors, and in the distance, cast in shadows from the sun setting behind her, the trees and river of the other Clan lands. Much had happened. Litchenstrike, despite Lionstar's pleading--nay, begging--her not to, stepped down. Her dearest friend could not handle command. Could not handle with Lionstar had put her through, she'd cracked, and Lionstar felt at fault. She had sent Litchenstrike in. She had sent Litchenstrike to bring a message, to suffer the claws of the Coven on behalf of all, because Lionstar could not do it. Salem would have recognized her, but not Litchenstrike. And Litchenstrike went. 

Without hesitation, qualm, or grumbling, Litchenstrike did as asked: but she never recovered. Lionstar begged her, talked to her, the two spent hours in the abandoned twoleg shack, talking about the physiological wounds Litchenstrike suffered, but in the end, it had not been enough. A warrior once told her that she'd have an unusual problem: she was going to outlive or outlast (or both) several deputies. She didn't expect the first one to be gone within a moon. Litchenstrike had stepped down as the contaminated water killed her. She died. And there Lionstar lost her first deputy and a friend. She now had to hope that Yarrowheart would be more resilient. Surely the she-cat had gone through enough to prove that much. 

Yellow eyes scanned the moor, then to the dark fens in the distance, specks on the horizon. ShadowClan--were they dealing with poisoned water again? If it was in WindClan, it was no doubt flowing downstream too, into the other Clans. Who had they lost? If anyone? Lionstar flicked her tail and gave her chest a couple licks. Time would tell all, she supposed. In time, stability would be won once more, even if she had to do it singlehandedly. 

But enough of this drama, she thought to herself with a twitch of her whiskers. She looked up at the clouds, and around at the shadows. This was her favorite spot for several reasons. Right now? It was to leave thoughts behind, just for a few more minutes to admire the view. When the sun finished setting, she'd return to camp, and organize for the day to follow. 

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OPEN | 391 words

[yarrowheart]

heart of yarrows If only solitude offered Yarrowheart that same lassitude that came with company. She was restrained within isolation, it inclosed upon her with intensity and voracity, endeavouring to plunge into her, attack from all sides. That was what she, in part, feared the most: loneliness, if only because it left her an opportunity to be surrounded by her thoughts and feelings. Something in her snapped when she thought of them; was it a lifetime of repressing feelings in order to feel competent, to make up for failing her assessment or average abilities, to give her something to hold on to - logic - or was it something greater than herself, guilt for her brother's death or the memory of his utterance of "dear sister"? Despite the morbidity of her internal monologue, the she-cat seemed to appear straightforward and dutiful; she ignored these messages because they held no purpose. She needed to succeed in some regard, even if it was in a mastery over her mind. So when she arrived at the outlook rock she saw an entire kingdom. Kingdom, perhaps was not the right word, primarily because it was ruled by two she-cats, but also because it was based on the consensus of the public. Though there were always the few who disagreed with power - Yarrowheart could understand why - the security offered by the clan whilst faced with the isolating and terrifying prospect of wandering alone, perhaps never to find another friend again, more often than not made would-be radicals stay. She was firm, however, in believing that there was a difference between innovation and being a coward using only ad hominem attacks and it had taken her a long time to realise it. The cream cat emitted a sigh as her eyes focused on the trees that were far off and the traces of ShadowClan. They, at least, had the opportunity to run away from fear, to hide in the woods, WindClan was open, vulnerable to war. That was, after all, part of their ethos, their way of life: it was better to be determined and vulnerable than a fearful and protected. She saw, not too far away, the figure that had shaped her life. In a strange way she was in moons older than her leader, her friend, but in another Lionstar exuded a kind of timeless wisdom that transcended her true age. Undoubtedly, Lionstar too would not stay here for long; both of them were far too busy to worry about watching the clouds. They'd both left adolescence, but this place drew them back. "I hope I'm not disturbing you." She mewed to the red tabby with a chuckle and a courteous smile, "It truly is a fine place to organise thoughts, rare as the occasion is." words lionstar notes

CODED BY MIDDY OF GS

[lionstar]

Lionstar

Lionstar heard the pawsteps, but they weren't threatening. They were soft, but not disguised, nor were they speedy. She was in no danger, so she did not turn. Besides, if she was? She could handle herself. She was bigger than some twoleg dogs, after all. More than that, she wanted a few more moments of silence. She'd always loved being alone. Being without anyone, to mind herself, to handle herself and watch the world: she liked that. It just wasn't an option for her life, not anymore, not often, so she'd take all the moments she could get, squeezing out the seconds like she might squeeze the life out of a rabbit. 

The speaker turned out to be the cat she'd been thinking of moments before: Yarrowheart. She was an interesting choice for deputy, but she reminded Lionstar a bit of Litchenstrike. Not amiable, no, and not trained in diplomacy, but she could do that. Yarrowheart, Lionstar felt, would make calls similar to her own, and not back down if another challenged her about it. She flicked her tail at the disturbance comment, though it was not out of any annoyance. It was a "come sit with me" and Lionstar backed it up with her voice a moment later. "No, you're not. Come sit," the leader said. If Yarrowheart had needed her for something, she'd have said so by now, or her demeanor would have suggested it. 

All Yarrowheart seemed to want was conversation, and Lionstar would give it. Part of her wanted to send Yarrowheart away, but she knew that would just be rude to the new deputy. "It's a good place for thinking, yes," Lionstar said, "A good view, too. It's almost good enough to banish all the thoughts in your head for a little bit." Organizing thoughts, collecting them, or forgetting them from a time--the view could help with any of these things. "What brings you out here, Yarrowheart?"

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yarrowheart | 322 words

[yarrowheart]

Perhaps it was her sheer skill at deducing the emotions of others, but Yarrowheart could tell that Lionstar, unlike her, truly did value alone time. It was in the way she held herself, dignified, perhaps not joyful, but certainly proud, at peace. Unlike her deputy, Lionstar did not need others to feel secure, grounded and for that reason the she-cat did find her curious, albeit in a genuinely interested manner. Not that she was the kind to be overly intellectual; after all, a pleasant discussion was a pleasant discussion, no more, no less. As the larger - but younger - she-cat gestured with her tail the cream she-cat nodded in affirmation and sat next to her leader. In a way she had never truly thought about how they were different in age, how the "subordinate" was indeed younger in moons, but she never considered herself below Lionstar. Not only was she too strong-willed for that, but also she did not think the dynamics of the relationship were like that at all; if it were the case, why did they act more like friends, albeit reserved ones, than cordial business partners? "Many thanks." Yarrowheart, unlike others she knew, did not mince or waste words. Though she was good at sensing other people's needs and extroverted, she was far from highly diplomatic, which was something she was working to improve, rest assured. She chuckled a little at the leader's comment, "Indeed. I would imagine what it would be like to be free of worries, but sometimes worries can give us motivation." She paused for a moment when the large red tabby asked her why she was out here alone. Alone, of course, was the key word. Whether Lionstar knew this or not, she could not say, but it was very much unlike her to keep to herself. Very much unlike her companion. She spoke, "I know I am not one for small talk, but I was wondering if there have been any recent developments, either strategy wise or in your life?" She mused, "It only benefits to know what others are thinking, if only for another view. I suppose if there is something else you want to discuss, I'm equally willing to do that." She watched the horizon for a brief moment, "I can also let you stay in peace with your thoughts; I know this place is very tranquil." Her tone was not harsh or judging, but simply standard, with hues of interest.

[lionstar]

Lionstar

Yarrowheart was a cat of few words: Lionstar liked that. A few words, and none of the words were wasted. It reminded her of Litchenstrike. She'd picked Yarrowheart on that reason, along with several others, or course. She could have chosen someone wordier, more like Softears--wordier wasn't a bad thing. But here they were. Let's just hope you don't have to pick another anytime soon. Lionstar told herself. She wrapped her tail around her paws, saying nothing in regard to the thanks. In a tight economy of words, she would spare herself from saying those. "Worries can motivate, but that doesn't mean I have to have them all the time," Lionstar said with a hint of a chuckle. She'd always been self-motivated, though perhaps there was a worry at the heart of every cat's actions. Worry or a primal need--hunger or fear, these governed many actions, and the ginger she-cat knew they always would. Hunger and fear propelled the world, and even if the latter could be dealt with or ignored, there would always be the former. 

It was Yarrowheart's question that gave her pause. The older she-cat asked if there was anything new, in her Clan or in her life. There was nothing to report about to the Clan, or about it. Things, for the moment, were as calm as they could be, water-sickness aside. Lionstar had a feeling that the sickness would pas, that it could only be endured. Every cat still needed to drink, a thirst in the face of fear. Hunger (or thirst) would always override fear. But as for her life? Her yellow eyes betrayed nothing for a moment, then there was a frown. "Personal life? What personal life?" That was strange for a young cat to say: Lionstar knew many her age in WindClan and everywhere else were busy with their personal lives, establishing them, making them something, now old enough to be more than an apprentice or a new warrior but nothing more, not usually. "I'm not sure I have one of those--I barely ever did," there was both humor, seriousness, and a hint of sadness mixed in. For once, Lionstar was using emotion to colour her words. Yarrowheart might as well know. The whole Clan knew the earliest bits: a mismatched apprentice, an offbeat warrior, the friend to Coalheart, one of the only ones. Then she was the deputy, and now she was the leader. What personal life did she have? What time did she have? Even if she desired a mate, which she did not, she was barred from it. "My personal life is the Clan, I think. I've not even got siblings. Pah, it sounds sad when you say it that way, but it's not that sad. Unusual, perhaps, but what about me is usual..." Lionstar trailed off and dragged her gaze from the moor to her deputy, her whiskers twitching in mild amusement. "I could ask the same question of you, you know, and you've lived long enough to have a larger history." Lionstar knew it, of course: she wouldn't make such a decision blind, though she was half the age of her deputy and so heard most of it secondhand. "What boils, simmers, or thinks beneath that fur of yours, then?" 

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yarrowheart | 544 words

[yarrowheart]

No worries. Yarrowheart did not entirely believe that her leader was without worries. Surely everyone worried, no? The she-cat wondered about how others thought and acted, though she was not highly emotional herself. Of much greater interest was the world of potential and progress: primarily for her clan. Whether she could call it her clan, she could not know. Claiming such a title would seem obtrusive, not to mention vain, and Yarrowheart, despite herself, did not want to be known for either of those qualities. For certain she would stand against cruel acts - though not truly interested in social movements - but she was also content to support Lionstar. Despite her age she knew many things, and seemed to have a kind of infectious confidence. "That is true." She spoke, briefly. Of course she would not speak more than necessary, or allow anyone a glimpse into any struggle that invalidated her inner strength and courage, not even Lionstar - usually. Of course, Yarrowheart knew that there truly was no change within the clan; if there had been, she would have known. She, like the lion-esque defender, knew of the importance of keeping up with the seemingly laborious task of verifying that the clan was running smoothly. In the event that she had to take over - and lord did she know how time wasn't on her side, in that regard - she needed to know how the clan functioned when there was no war, because without war there is no peace. She knew Lionstar had no true personal life - in fact Yarrowheart almost barely did either - but it was what Pinepelt called "an ice-breaker". Something to start a conversation, and useful for those like herself who were clueless with regard to the art of small talk. "I understand that. Obligations towards the clan are essential." She chuckled, "I'm sure there is something usual about you." She laughed a little, "In WindClan I must admit, we're far from normal. I mean look at us, we could be boulders." She smiled, "A longer history does not necessarily mean a more interesting one, Lionstar." Even she knew that. Turning a little bit, she paused, "I suppose you could say I've been thinking about training an apprentice, Lionstar. I've seen a tom recently who seems to be a good fit, if energetic enough to keep me on my toes. Black and white tom called Loonkit - soon Loonpaw. I know it is the leader's decision as to which warrior mentors which apprentice, but if I may be so bold, I hope you will consider it. I think we would learn a lot from one other." She continued, "Apart from that, I'm hoping for spring. It seems odd, but there is some comfort in seeing newness, flowers, kits, if only as a distraction from the cold. Odd that someone with my pelt would hope for a warm climate, but I suppose that is simply genetics."

[/quote]

[lionstar]

Lionstar

Really, Lionstar knew it would probably be healthier, and certainly more normal, to have a personal life. But she didn't. Perhaps it would have been different if she were older, an established warrior, some fifty moons old, taking the mantle of leader. Someone who had a proper life before. She knew that retreating would be dangerous--Acronstar's sudden depression did no good for the Clan before he was taken--but she hadn't retreated politically. And not personally, either, she just didn't have much of a start. Ah well. She mentally shrugged off the thoughts. So what would come would come, and she'd deal with it as it did. No point worrying, though it did make her wonder if the toms that led the other Clans had bigger personal lives. Bramblestar no doubt did: rumors of him having bastard children in every Clan had to come from somewhere. 

A purr of amusement escaped Lionstar when Yarroheart mentioned boulders, "You know I used to push stones to train? Sometimes I still do. I used to sneak out of camp and push rocks." her tail flicked and Lionstar looked over at Yarrowheart, whiskers twitching, "Acornstar caught me at it once, but he didn't stop me. I think that's how I got my warrior name." She decided not to fight Yarrowheart on whether or not the she-cat had more of a history, realizing it could quickly get nasty: Yarrowheart, whether the cream-coloured she-cat liked it or not, did have a history. It wasn't a history that ever Clan cat thought was noble, and it had been something Lionstar knew when she appointed her as deputy. Perhaps, for now, they'd let it lie. She hadn't been deputy very long, and there was no point dredging it up. StarClan knew, Lionstar had been very glad when Acornstar didn't bring up her friendship with Coalheart on her. 

Loonkit was brought up, and Lionstar nodded. She didn't want to take on another apprentice this very second--losing Stagpaw to the water sickness when he was so close to becoming a warrior had been hard. But so many of their apprentices had gone that way, it was almost horrifying. That besides, Loonkit wouldn't be a good fit for her, but for Yarrowheart? It could either go very wrong or very right. "I doubt he will shape up like you or I," Lionstar cautioned, "But you can handle raising someone different from yourself." And heavy WindClan warrior--for there were a few--had to learn how to teach speed and the like, even if they might not necessarily use it. "I had been thinking about you to mentor him, honestly. It will be a good way to start spring." Hopefully this year would be better than the last, and with a realization as she looked over the moor, she knew she could throw her weight into making it better. She had power she'd never have dreamed up last newleaf. Last newleaf, if she had been told she'd be leading WindClan, she'd have asked if they fell on their head somewhere. "Strange how seasons shift perspective," she mused, making her thoughts into words.  

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yarrowheart | 519 words