burn it down - larkstar/open

[pheasantfoot]

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[style= font-size: 28pt; font-family: dawning of a new day; color: #629632; text-align: center; line-height: 30px;]pheasantfoot of shadowclan[/style][style= width:350px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size:9px; text-transform:lowercase;]the moon was no more than a sliver as thin as a claw as it rose above the thick, inky black forest. surrounding it, countless twinkling specks of stars spanned, yet not even their glow could fully illuminate the dark earth. at a moment’s glance, the thick pine forest looked almost frozen, basked in a faint silvery glow. indeed the glow was nothing more than a veil that covered the uppermost branches. only slight flecks of pearly starlight managed to reach the earth. yet beneath this almost spectral canopy, the murky forest floor teemed with life. insect song resounded through the air. a slight, cool breeze weaved its way through the barren trunks. an occasional rustling of dry pine needles accompanied the crickets’ chant. yet of course, to the predator, none of this mattered except for the latter, for she was solely interested in sinking her fangs into flesh. the fear scent of prey was her perfume, and its lifeblood was her ambrosia.

the predator was lean and low to the ground, obviously a feline. her striped pelt was invisible, completely absorbed by shadow. a shadow, that is what she was. only the slightest traces of starlight laced the fur along her spine when the sparkle touched it just right. her snake of a tail lashed, almost as if it had a mind of its own. her name was pheasantfoot, and she stalked forwards as her yellowish green eyes sliced through the night. rustle, rustle. immediately, pheasantfoot froze. was it perhaps a rat? an adder? her ears shot upwards. the crackle of paws against leaves was certainly too large to belong to a prey animal, and too small and light to belong to a fox or badger. pheasantfoot’s ears drooped slightly. the scent hit her nose, and it definitely belonged to a feline, a who happened to be a shadowclan cat too. reluctantly, she turned and waited for the newcomer to approach...

[/style][/style][newclass=lauzlol05]width: 350px; height: 10px; background-color: #629632; font-family: arial; font-size: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #fff; text-align: center; padding: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 100%; -moz-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out; -webkit-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out; -o-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out;[/newclass][newclass=lauzlol05:hover]width: 350px; height: 10px; padding: 10px; font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 100%; color: #fff; background-color: #121212;[/newclass][classy=lauzlol05]322 WORDS FOR ERIE AND WHOEVER ELSE WANTS TO REPLY![/classy]

[LITTLEBERRY]

[STYLE=padding:5px; width:350px; height:210px font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; text-align:justify; text-transform: lowercase;]Larkstar loved the night. It was her favorite part of the day, when she could see the many points of light that made up StarClan. The female leader smiled up at the sky, pleased to see her ancestors winking down at her as she passed through the forest. Taking a long walk at dusk was a habit she had developed when she first became a warrior, and it persisted throughout her role as deputy and then leader. No doubt it annoyed her current deputy when she wasn’t found within the confines of the camp.

But honestly the gray tabby could not stay still for very long; she always had to be moving, always had to be somewhere else, always had to be doing something. Larkstar could admit to herself that she was slightly high-maintenance, but her family and her clan was used to her antics. For the most part, she supposed. But all of that didn’t matter now with the earth beneath her paws, and the song of crickets in her ears. It was as if their world was standing still, and it was peaceful.

A scent came across her senses then, and she turned curiously, ears twitching once, twice with the direction of the wind. Wrinkling her nose, Larkstar recognized the scent of a fellow ShadowClan cat somewhere near her, but she could not figure out who it was. She followed the trail with her tail held high, picking curiously through the underbrush – it was then she realized that she was near the shores of the lake; she must have gone farther than she thought. That however escaped her mind as she stepped cautiously around a bare tree trunk, and found one of her warriors there.

“Pheasantfoot!” she mewed, her stance relaxing immediately as she padded closer to the other female, a purr in her throat. “What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing so far from the camp? Hoping to catch a few owls? Unless we learn how to fly, I don’t think that’d be possible – of course, who heard of a cat flying in the first place? Perhaps in our dreams, yes?” Larkstar laughed softly, her thought process going off in tangents as per usual in most conversations. This didn’t come to a surprise to most of her clan, though.
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[pheasantfoot]

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[style= font-size: 28pt; font-family: dawning of a new day; color: #629632; text-align: center; line-height: 30px;]pheasantfoot of shadowclan[/style][style= width:350px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size:9px; text-transform:lowercase;]pheasantfoot was having a pretty decent day. this morning she’d woken up, had her favorite meal of freshly caught squirrel, and the retired back to the den for a relaxing day of making nests. that was all she was good for, really. the striped she-cat was one of the most cowardly, antisocial cats that walked the forests. for that reason, she was never asked to join patrols or gatherings. but that was just how she liked it: alone. when she was alone, she could do things to occupy her mind without having the games being mentioned in conversation. the games. pheasantfoot had been shadowclan’s representative a few seasons ago.

the once outgoing and fun apprentice came out of them scarred and unfriendly. during the hunting challenge, she excelled. though she was beaten out by a riverclan apprentice, she had placed second. shadowclan had been proud of her and encouraged her plenty going into the battles. but that was when the trouble began. pheasantfoot had always been very weak when it came to battles. she lost almost every battle she was entered in, but was forced into the great race when her other teammate had his head cracked against a rock and was unable to participate. the thought of cats randomly attacking her and clawing at her face so viciously for no reason made her untrusting and scared.

when the great race began, she was scared of the walls closing in on her. the thunderclan and riverclan apprentices teamed up on her attacked her in the tunnels. she lied there broken and bleeding for hours until she realized that if she didn’t make it out of the darkness, she’d never be back in her nest again. since those games seasons ago, pheasantfoot was changed for the worse. when she heard the sound of larkstar’s voice, she sharply inhaled. her claws flexed deeply into the mud. she could feel the hackles on her back bristling. “larkstar.” she mumbled, not meeting the leader’s gaze. “i was just doing a bit of hunting. hoping to catch a squirrel or two. a-a cat? cat’s don’t fly… i’ve never dreamed happy things like that before..” she ended evenly, tail lashing. “why are you out here?” she asked, raising her anxious eyes to look at larkstar for a fleeting moment. “out hunting owls?”

[/style][/style][newclass=lauzlol05]width: 350px; height: 10px; background-color: #629632; font-family: arial; font-size: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #fff; text-align: center; padding: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 100%; -moz-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out; -webkit-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out; -o-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out;[/newclass][newclass=lauzlol05:hover]width: 350px; height: 10px; padding: 10px; font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 100%; color: #fff; background-color: #121212;[/newclass][classy=lauzlol05]386 WORDS! STILL TRYING TO WORK OUT HOW TO PLAY HER![/classy]

[LITTLEBERRY]

[STYLE=padding:5px; width:350px; height:210px font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; text-align:justify; text-transform: lowercase;]Larkstar tilted her head at Pheasantfoot, honestly curious why the notoriously cowardly she-cat was out here all alone by herself and without one of her fellow clanmates. Didn’t she know that an owl could sweep her up? Well, it was best to not voice that out loud – she didn’t want to find a spooked cat on her paws. The female leader purred softly, padding closer to her warrior. “Good, good. A bit of squirrel will do us some good in the coming leaf-bare, wouldn’t you say?” As Larkstar spoke, she noticed that the cold night air was starting to pierce through her thick coat, and she shook her body in an attempt to warm herself up. “I shall miss leaf-fall.” She sighed wistfully.

Lifting a paw, she scratched at the ground with her claws absently as she chuckled lightly. “I should imagine that a cat wouldn’t be able to fly. That would be quite absurd, but I suppose some cats dream of it. I certainly do. I can only wonder what it would feel like to be above the trees.” Larkstar tilted her head again, ears twitching as her yellowish eyes scanned the surrounding foliage. “It’d certainly be easier for us to catch those pesky birds, yes?” Her whiskers moved as she laughed again, and she glanced back at Pheasantfoot, an amused expression on her features.

She knew that the female warrior had been the representative for ShadowClan quite some time ago, before she had become leader, and even deputy. Pheasantfoot was nearly half her age; but she had shown such potential in even a young apprentice when she had been chosen for the games. It had saddened her to see her become so shy and antisocial because of the ambush in the tunnels. To this day Larkstar wasn’t quite sure what to do with this situation. She wanted to help her, though part of her realized that her warrior would probably never be healed.

“Why am I out here?” she mewed. “What a good question. I had come for a walk, so that I could evade my deputy once more, and I find myself having a pleasant chat with you, my dear.” The gray tabby stretched out her back, tail lashing once behind her before she relaxed. “Perhaps we can try hunting those owls. As they are the ones who steal our prey and leave us hungry, after all. Imagine the clan’s faces when they see that we took down an owl!”
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[pheasantfoot]

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[style= font-size: 28pt; font-family: dawning of a new day; color: #629632; text-align: center; line-height: 30px;]pheasantfoot of shadowclan[/style][style= width:350px; text-align: justify; font-family:verdana; font-size:9px; text-transform:lowercase;]pheasantfoot could see that glassy look in her leader’s eyes. it was the same look every cat got when they came face to face with pheasantfoot. as if they weren’t exactly sure what to say or do. it was just so awkward for all involved. when larkstar purred, the warrior’s eyes grew wide as the moon. the leader had taken a step or two forward. cowering, pheasantfoot gulped. “good, good. a bit of squirrel will do us some good in the coming leaf-bare, wouldn’t you say?” would she? would she?! squirrel was her absolute favorite, but she had come hunting to grab something to eat for herself. she fed the clan, of course. whenever anyone asked her to come with them on patrol. which was hardly ever. but when she had to, she’d venture out and do her part.

“i shall miss leaf-fall.” finally. something to get off the subject of hunting. would pheasantfoot miss leaf-fall? she wasn’t entirely sure. the chill of the night reminded her of the moist tunnels of her games, but during the day it was pleasant enough. “so will i. it feels nice around sunrise.” she answered simply, flinching when the leader shook her pelt out. but it was just to warm up. pheasantfoot found herself shivering, too. clearing her throat, the warrior puffed out her thick fur and stared nervously at larkstar’s now outstretched claw. “i should imagine that a cat wouldn’t be able to fly. that would be quite absurd, but i suppose some cats dream of it. i certainly do. i can only wonder what it would feel like to be above the trees … it’d certainly be easier for us to catch those pesky birds, yes?”

flying? for once, something pheasantfoot had a reply to. straightening up, the warrior’s voice dropped down an octave. seriously, she stated: “anything is better than underground, trapped. in the air you could be f-free. there’d be more benefits of flying than just the birds. though those would be good, too. not that i’m d-disagreeing.” she muttered incoherently, tail curling and uncurling nervously around her paws. she couldn’t help but see larkstar laughing at her. her cheeks burned and she flattened her ears to her head. shadowclan’s disgrace for a victor. that was probably what she was thinking of. “why am i out here? what a good question. i had come for a walk, so that i could evade my deputy once more, and i find myself having a pleasant chat with you, my dear. perhaps we can try hunting those owls. as they are the ones who steal our prey and leave us hungry, after all. imagine the clan’s faces when they see that we took down an owl!”

pheasantfoot found herself studying her paws with an intense gaze. when larkstar mentioned she was out and about to speak with her, the warrior’s head snapped up. she studied her leader’s face for a moment before twitching her whiskers happily. the happiness soon turned into doubt at the mention of the large birds known for picking cats up and whisking them away. “owls?! oh, larkstar, i don’t k-know. i mean, we could try. i heard one in the large tree on the way here. he was eating a mouse in the tree. i could climb it and attack him and we could do it… would you really want to try?” she asked, flicking her ears towards the spot she’d seen the tree.

[/style][/style][newclass=lauzlol05]width: 350px; height: 10px; background-color: #629632; font-family: arial; font-size: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #fff; text-align: center; padding: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 100%; -moz-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out; -webkit-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out; -o-transition: all 0.9s ease-in-out;[/newclass][newclass=lauzlol05:hover]width: 350px; height: 10px; padding: 10px; font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 2px; line-height: 100%; color: #fff; background-color: #121212;[/newclass][classy=lauzlol05]576 WORDS! HMM, SHE'S GETTING THERE![/classy]

[LITTLEBERRY]

[STYLE=padding:5px; width:350px; height:210px font-family:georgia; font-size:10px; text-align:justify; text-transform: lowercase;]Larkstar was watching Pheasantfoot with concern in her eyes, honestly wondering if the other she-cat would relax enough to become her old self once more. She could remember just how rambunctious she had been, and she missed it, if she had to be honest. The leader retracted her claws after noticing the warrior’s expression, still continuing to paw against the ground as if she could scratch a hole with willpower alone.

To say that she was surprised at the other’s answer to her question would be an understatement. Larkstar felt pride well in her chest to see Pheasantfoot react in such a way, tilting her head as she listened. “Oh, I agree with you, my dear. I do think that if we were able to fly, it would be such a wonderful feeling.” She purred softly, rising to her paws so that she could stand right in front of her warrior, and leaned down to lick at her ear. “No need to be nervous. I enjoy hearing my warrior’s opinions. I listen to all of my clan, and take their views into consideration when I make my decisions for all of you.”

The Shadowclan leader smiled when she saw how happy the she-cat looked, before chuckling gently. “We could certainly try, yes. Imagine if we did catch an owl. What a legend that would be, passed down our generations for years to come for every kit and apprentice to hear. Larkstar and Pheasantfoot, the owl hunters.” She purred, amused with the thought. “What do you think? It would be a good test for our skills, yes?” Larkstar turned her gaze in the direction that her warrior had indicated, eyes following the trunk to find the owl nestled in the branches.

She crouched down then, her tail wrapping around her paws. “Perhaps we should come up with a plan. If one of us climbs the tree and knocks the owl down, both of us could pin it and snap its neck. If it tries to reach for you, I will come up from behind and attack it so you can get away. Does that sound fair?” [/style]