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Post by .:.Zee.:. on Sept 13, 2009 19:06:51 GMT -6
Sharpwing plodded into camp, her long pelt shining from a cleaning just that morning. A medium-sized silver fish was clenched between her powerful jaws, and her yellow-green eyes were only on the food pile. For a rather large feline, she was quite silent and quick on her paws. In a matter of seconds she was at the food pile without anyone noticing her presence. After dropping the fish, her eyes swept protectively over her camp-- well, Thymestar's camp. But one day, she would be Sharpstar and rule over Riverclan. A smile that showed her sharp fangs began to form on the grumpy she-cat's face as she day dreamed of the day that it would be her trip to get her leader's name. Sure, Sharpwing looked to Thymestar as an older sister of sorts, but she still couldn't help but hope and pray that Sharpwing lived long enough to see her name change to Sharpstar.
Yawning, Sharpwing's large body started moving toward the medicine cat's den, her strong muscles rippling under her skin. The she-cat had been having a stomach ache lately and was hoping Echosong could fix it with some of her herbs. Though Sharpwing didn't trust medicine cats, this was a really bad stomach ache. Sharpwing glared moodily around the med cat den, silently waiting for someone to appear. |
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Post by Cricketfoot on Sept 15, 2009 19:53:53 GMT -6
Long leafy herbs were easily uprooted from their spots in the Earth. The ground was showered with dirt as the roots slid from the grass. The long plants were trapped between sets of white teeth, holding hard enough to pull them from the ground but when placed back onto the forest floor, not a tooth mark could be seen. Stormpaw, content with his work, picked the plants. Carefully, he positioned them in his jaw carefully, not to puncture the leaf the slightest. A single drop of its precious juices could mean one less life saved. Or, at least that’s what other medicine cats worried about. Personally, Stormpaw could care less but he would get a stern talking to if he let Echosong down. So, padding away from the spot, the limping tom tilted his head the slightest to keep the roots from skimming the grass. This though, hindered his sight, causing him to stumble every few steps. His damaged back leg always seemed to be catching itself on something. Whether it was a loose stone or a sharp twig, the horrible leg that caused him nothing but pain became an enemy to the young cat. He would struggle with it, sometimes, when extremely angered, cursed at it. There was no reason he had to suffer this. Though, the young cat diverted his attention from his leg back to the task on paw as he padded into camp. It was quiet, for it being sunhigh, most cats were out hunting, patrolling or training, three things he couldn’t do. Glad to soon be getting rid of the burden that hung from his mouth, Stormpaw pushed his way into the medicine cat den to find the muscular shape of Sharpwing. The tom gave an inward groan; he was going to have to deal with the clan’s grumpy deputy. “What do you need?” He couldn’t help but growl, stalking past the she-cat to reach the herb stores. --- Words: 321 Character: Stormpaw of RiverClan Completed |
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