{blackmagic}iNTRODUCTiONS

[Ravenstar.]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] It wasn't exactly dark in the pine-tree laded forest, but as it was new leaf, it was pretty dim for the time of year. Still the ground was just a track of dry dirt, made firm by many generations of paw crossing over it. Clumps of grass were dotted around in places, good if you had a rotten stomach, but none the less, it was pretty. Even the flowers were cute. They were all different colours and shapes, making the air smell sweet and yet musky as well. Birds twittered away in their nests, darting here and there with food for themselves, and some of the early chicks. A small, faint trail of paw-prints, freshly trodden, littered the soil pathway. Small scratches came from each toe, markings of claws. There was something roaming the forest, and there was a scent in the air to prove you correct. It was a faint scent, but it was there. The unmistakeable scent of a Tom-cat. But, there was something more to it than just that. The scent of a Leader. See, these lands were all marked with the same scent over each and every boarder and bush. The tom wanted to make sure his lands were clear. Rustling leaves came from a folk in the pathway, each branch going to a different place in his territory. Something crept out of the bushes, a small slither-like hiss coming from that area as well. A snake? No, rather unlikely. It was a cats hiss, a high pitched one that sounded very annoyed indeed. Well…the tom wasn’t annoyed as such. Paranoid perhaps? See, if you understood the male then you would know why he was acting so strange. Only his clan knew what he was like, and it was a good job too. He was bipolar. Well, very bipolar is the correct way of saying it. The tom could flip between stages faster than you could bless StarClan. The leaves stopped rustling as a sharp growl came from the unseen figure. If you looked closely in the dull light of the forest, you would be able to see the outline of a feline. The only way to know it was there was by looking at its eyes. Dark-gold veined, striking amber pools to show every detail of his being. To show his paranoia, his pupils were small slits and each eye kept flickering between various bushes and trees. It was quite a sad scene to view. A long slender tail was flicking in the air at a rapid pace. Soon, there was silence in the forest. The hissing and growling had stopped, and the leaves stood still. Even the birds picked up on the vibes and kept their beaks closed. And so, with pupils returning to normal size, the tom became placid and calm again. Tail lowered and ears stood tall, paws skimming over the dirt so the tom was sitting in the middle of the dirt track. There was a gap in the pine trees, and light flooded onto the male cat, revealing his physique. A very slim cat sat there, a coat as dark as pitch. Golden amber eyes stood still, gazing blankly into the distance. Long tail just swayed over the ground and life came back. It was like time had stopped when his mood changed. Eyes flicked to one of the fork-trails, skull slowly turning there as well. Voodoo, come over here and talk to mummy, it will make you feel better you know. I…AcidTongue… don’t… want me to go. But dear, mummy would like to talk to you. He won’t let me go…the snake won’t let me go… Honey, there’s nothing there. BE QUIET! He is there…I can see him… There’s nothing there. Just…just…just leave…leave me…LEAVE ME ALONE! Bottom lip of the tom quivered a little, lips shaking as his skull sharply went to the ground, amber eyes covered swiftly by his eyelids. Tail began thrashing around again. Images began flashing before his eyes. Blood and death clouded his mind. He had killed the past leader in an unknown fit of rage. Well, that’s what all of the other cats thought. AcidTongue had made him do it, or so the tom said. Nobody really knew who the ‘thing’ was, but he was convinced he was followed by a large snake. Still, the black tom cat was here for a reason. Where’s that little kit…Coldpaw was it? Yes, that’s him. Slowly, the tom was standing again, claws digging into the soil as he raised his slim frame. The quivering ended, and his eyes opened again. He was suffering terribly with his bipolar disorder, and yet he was still Leader. Many thought he should be an Elder by now. There was no chance of that happening for a long time. Amber eyes looked down one of the pathways, lips parting. A row of ivory teeth were showing, but soon vanished as his jaws widened. A long and slightly odd meow came from his mouth, like a wolf’s howl. It was an odd mix of male and female. Well, he had a female’s high pitched tone for sure, but his voice was as bold as a true male cat should be. Words: 867 Comment: Not a bad first post ^^ Coldpaw ONLY plz.

[&Willow]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] The scents of the forest were all but disgusting. It pleased him to be out in this sort of atmosphere. The darkness, the feeling of leaves and branches crackling beneath his tiny paws. He still had some kitten left in him. His fur still had that softness that kits have and his body structure had no pure muscle on it yet. A gray ear twitched, and he instantly rubbed his face against a pine tree, leaving his ShadowClan scent on it. The rough bark left a few pieces on his muzzle. He calmly pawed it off, careful not to jam any splinters into his skin. He let out a soft mrrow as he slid down a small dip, fresh mud covering his already dirty paws. Flicking his paws one at a time he continued onward. A certain scent had caught his attention. It was his scent. His as in, his mentor's scent. Voodoostar, the great (or so Coldpaw thought) of ShadowClan. There were already stories about him! So, he killed the old leader, what of it? He bet there were other cats that have killed leaders before and turned out great. I want to grow to be like him....a great and powerful leader of ShadowClan. He chuckled quietly to himself. Coldstar, the great leader of ShadowClan! He was taught by the great leader Voodoostar! Young kitten thoughts seemed to stay with him too. The small white and gray cat puffed out his chest, his tail waving in the air. Quite out of character, but he was alone...or so he thought. His bright toxic-green eyes narrowed a bit, and he turned back into the cold shell he usually carried. No wonder he was named Coldpaw. He wondered what his warrior name would be. Coldeyes, no maybe Coldtail, no that was too...tailish, maybe Coldsnow, that fit him with the white fur, or maybe Coldstone or Coldcloud, that all seemed to fit. Whatever it was, he would enjoy the name, enjoy being a warrior. His ears flickered at the sound of a voice in the distance. It was a very familiar meow. Voodoostar. Coldpaw let out his own meow, it was young but masucline, but it was still high-pitched because of young age. Hoping that his mentor heard it he began to scramble endlessly through the leaves and debris, careful as he went past various pine trees and down underneath roots. He scrabbled onto a pathway, his gray ears twitching forth, his pink nostrols flaring heatedly. Acidic gaze narrowed, his pink lips twitching as he scented along the path. He could smell Voodoostar, he had to go this way. His training was going to begin, he hoped. He began to think of the old stories of Firestar's time. When Blackstar had lead ShadowClan. A large white tom with black paws, who had done terrible deeds, but was still a great leader. His gaze settled upon the black cat who had taken the responsibility in training him. His tail twitched, and he trotted over to his mentor, dipping his head in greeting. "I'm not late am I?" he questioned, nothing like being late for training. Coldpaw gave his shoulder a lick, wondering what they would be doing first. Coldpaw already knew the basics of a hunting stalk, but he didn't have it down perfect. He probably couldn't catch even the lamest of mice with it. He could probably use some new muscles on him, to rid of the soft ones from kittenhood. It was all up to Voodoostar. 'I wonder how Frostpaw and Thornpaw are doing with their mentors....with how slow I was, they are probably already learning a stalk for a bluejay or something.' Coldpaw wasn't as slow as he thought he was, just innerly excited to stop and take a look around. He was still getting use to not being in a nursery with his littermates. Words;; 645. Comments;; Not bad. OOC;; I thought it'd be less. Music;; None

[/sub][/blockquote]
[/td][/tr][/table]

[Ravenstar.]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] The black tom was staring into the distance again, tail no longer moving and he was looking more and more like a statue with every passing second. The trees swayed gently in the spring breeze, deep green and lime coloured pine needles mingling together and making an odd whistling noise. The soil-coated ground was very bumpy and hard, roots rippling out in various places along the many different forks in the road. Striking gold eyes stood still on one folk still, pupils no longer narrow slits, but more full and rounded as his placid personality was slightly changing into his hyper-active mode. Seriously, he was a real liability to ShadowClan. And yet, no cat seemed to take any notice. The clan of the dark very much liked their Leader at the moment, as he was a change from the constantly dark-minded ones from previous generations. Sure the black tom was somewhat weaker physically that some of his warriors, but his ‘odd’ mind gave him an unseen advantage in any situation. A long slender tail skimmed over the pathway slowly and gently, the fine black hairs catching no dirt at all. His tail seemed to be hovering over the ground somewhat. Four small black paws crept forward slightly as the tom raised his body from the ground, silver-white claws digging into the ground as the noises of his land filled his mind suddenly. It was strange how his senses would make things seem distorted. Sometimes, he would see other cats with his eyes that others could not see; other times he could feel breath on his fur. It was his bipolar disorder affecting his mind, but the black tom had no idea he was ‘ill’. Deep black-pink nose twitched, whiskers following suit as the tom’s skull sharply turned to a different path in the road, harks flickering madly. The sound of his kit caught his mind. No this kit exactly, as the tom had no mate. No, this kit was his apprentice. Coldpaw. The little kit who had still yet to shed part of his kit-hood. Oh, he would sort the little tom out. Voodoo’s body began to shiver a little ash is eyes caught sight of the kit coming his way. Bottom lip shook a little again as the kits mew still rang out in his mind, echoing softly. Shaking his skull, the black tom looked down to the small bundle of tom-fur, a very small smile rising over his face. That was a rarity in itself, and it showed Voodoo had some ‘soft’ feeling towards his apprentice. Black bodice lowered a little in a bow, but stayed slightly hunched to the ground. The tom was not big, nor was he muscular in any way. But Coldpaw was smaller than he, so Voodoo had to crouch a little to take in the kit fully. Amber-gold pools glittered ever so slightly in the sunbeams, showing not only the inner conflicts in his mind, the glimpse of softness he felt for the kit. As his smile faded, the feline rose to his normal height, long banner swaying gently in the air, whiskers still flickering a little. “Coldpaw.” His vocals were rough and steel-like, but his high tone cut though that and made his voice linger slightly. The tom had always been feared for his voice, and none could tell when the feline was telling the truth or being false. And Voodoo used it to his advantage. But, why was he not referring to himself as Voodoostar, the name given to him by StarClan? Well, for one thing, AcidTongue had only ever called him by his birth name since the black tom ‘found’ the snake. Plus, he preferred his birth name as it rolled off his tongue better. Still, he was still a ‘star’ by right. Kit still has kit features…siblings seem more. Yet, Cold has more to him than them, I feel it. Turning his skull slightly to one of the old pine trees, the tom padded towards it slowly, taking a look back to his apprentice after a few steps, ushering him to come over. Black figure moved silently on, raising a paw to touch the old bark. “Cats need to be good climbers. Good for catching birds or hiding from Badgers.” Voodoostar nodded a little, flinging his thin body up the tree. The tom slid a little, but his claws soon hooked into the bark, keeping him locked to the wood. After a moment’s hesitation, he began to get higher up the tree, until he was at the first branch. It was only 2ft off the ground, so not exactly the biggest of climbs ever. Clambering onto the branch, amber eyes looked down to the kit. “Coldpaw, climbing will make stronger your…your muscles.” The tom cat’s tail hung down over the back of the branch, twitching quite rapidly as he waited to see what his apprentice could do. Words: 818 Comment: Slight rambling...but oh well!

[&Willow]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=black] Compared to this large black cat, the strong leader of ShadowClan, Coldpaw was a weak and pitiful being. He flicked his tongue over his nose, a tad nervous but probably not noticeable. His gray furred ears flickered forth, his full attention on his mentor. He had taken it upon himself to take Coldpaw as his apprentice. For that, Coldpaw would train harder, learn faster, and become a great warrior. Well...that was his plan. He wanted to make Voodoostar proud, he didn't want to be a kit that he just had to train and give him his name, he wanted to be a kit that when he becomes a warrior, that he is proud of. Coldpaw was eager, though he showed it in a strange way. Cold, glassy green eyes that stood out from the rest of him had a strange twinge, a sign of trust. 'Of course I need to trust him! Frostpaw says that I should trust more, how ca- thoughts were cut short when he heard Voodoostar's voice. “Coldpaw.” Full attention was given to his leader, mentor, not exactly friend, but loyalty of course would be at its fullest. He sat up straight, his cold eyes watching with intent. Moons from now, he would be a lean, fighting, claw-quipped machine. Coldpaw immediately got up, bounding after Voodoostar. He looked at the old pine tree, his head tilted back some. It was old and tall, probably filled with squirrels. He licked his lips in anticipation, he kept himself at the pace they were taking, not wanting to get in over his head and tired from training that was to take place moons from now. “Cats need to be good climbers. Good for catching birds or hiding from Badgers.” All cats were natural born climbers. Coldpaw understood that climbing was essential to any cat's life. Squirrels were in trees to, but that wasn't the point. Badgers. Badgers were nasty creatures, large and vicious. He wasn't sure what one looked like or smelled like, he would need to know that information to protect his camp and clanmates (of course his brother and sister). He watched in awe as the leader pulled himself up the trunk, up and to the first branch. It was high, maybe not so high, but it was high to Coldpaw. The young apprentice sniffed at the bark, wanting to become familiar with it? It smelt of ShadowClan, not only Voodoostar himself, but others. He couldn't pick out Frostpaw's sweet scent, or Thornpaw's musty one at all. “Coldpaw, climbing will make stronger your…your muscles.” Strengthen his muscles? Coldpaw nodded his head, rubbing his side against the tree before turning and facing it. Placing a paw on the trunk he unsheathed his claws. Letting them sink in he made sure he had a somewhat good hold before placing his other paw onto the bark, and he pushed off the ground with his hind paws, scuttling and grabbing hold with his hind paws and making sure he wouldn't fall off. Having weak muscles he didn't go far, probably only a few inches, before his claws began to get weak and his soft kit-muscle strained, before his hold was no more. Coldpaw rolled his body, so the impact wouldn't be in one place and become severe. "Voodoostar, what do badgers look like?" he asked while trotting back to the tree. He did his process over again, and clung to the tree, he would climb until he had no more strength, and signs of muscle growing and rebuilding would probably not come in a flash. He would grow, not slow, but steady. Coldpaw was small, but he was young too, and already had signs of becoming a lean, fast cat. With this climb, he was just an inch or two higher than when his body let go, probably close to 2 feet, but he probably couldn't make it to Voodoostar yet. With his teeth, he marked where he was, careful not to break any, but he made obvious marks on the bark. "Mo-...." could he say mother? Most cats never call their parents mother or father, but by their warrior names. Only kits usually do that. Coldpaw bit his lower lip, and he continued to hold his spot, this was stamina. How long could he hold it? "Mother and father...er...Blackface..and...Torntail....never described them to my siblings and me, just that they were large, vicious creatures..." he explained, "I respect my parents...but...they....should have told me what to look out for, because I am protecting you, my clanmates, my family, my home, my life..." Sure Voodoostar can protect himself, but not only was he showing his loyalty and trust in the older tom, but that he wanted to learn. He wasn't the cat chosen to heal the clan's cats when it needs healing, he was a fighter and a hunter, protecting his clan. -------- Words;; 787. Comments;; Not bad. OOC;; I thought it'd be less, again. Music;; Lots. MCR, A7X

[/sub][/blockquote]
[/td][/tr][/table]