A Beautiful View {Tagged+Open}

[εℓιzαвεтн.]

ooc; Heron for Fernpaw!
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Heronsong was scrabbling for purchase among the rocks of his home, muscles of his legs burning with each arduous pull up the mountain. The sun was hung low in the sky and the stone beneath his paws had been wash in the light. Talonclan was home to the best spot in the world to see the setting sun; the lookout. Long ago, Twolegs hung around, but their scent was washed away many moons ago, before Heronsong was born. No Twoleg had made the hike in ages and it was a wonder the warriors of Talonclan tried to makes the nearly vertical climb at all. but, the black warrior was making the climb to see the shortly setting sun. It was a beauty to behold, especially from the point of view that Starclan had blessed his clan with.

The air was thinning the higher the tom got. Though the night had yet to set in, the temperature was beginning to drop. Heronsong's long, thick coat was hard to penetrate and he was grateful for that as he pulled himself over the last edge onto flat, cold stone. The air burned his lungs as he took in steady, controlled breaths after the exercise. Once his breathing was back under a suitable control, the quiet tom carefully padded to the edge, barely feeling the cooling stone under his thick paw pads. The sun was about to set.

He groomed himself as he waited for the sunset. His long fur was hard to keep under control without help though, and his quick grooming could only do so much to sort out the knots and kinks caused by the wind the often buffeted the mountains. It was in these times that Heronsong wished he had been more talkative as an apprentice and made friends; friends he could share tongues with and watch the setting sun with.

[Heron]

(I'm assuming they know about pebblestar but I havent been keeping up with the battle, so...Fernpaw did fight in the battle, but she wasn't seriously injured or anything. I don't know what happened to pebblestar yet, so for now I'm avoiding that aspect)

Fernpaw had settled herself against the abandoned lookout, her short fur enjoying the feeling of the warm sun as it descended lower and lower in the sky. She quite liked being up here by herself; with everything going on in Talonclan lately, she felt as though the only true thoughts she could trust was her own. The disappearance and kidnapping of their own leader, Pebblestar, had left her in a tizzy. She deeply admired their leader, and believing after all this time that she had abandoned them purposely -- only to discover she had been taken by force, was enough to make Fernpaw feel like a bad clan cat. She sighed, looking out over the rocks, her body feeling suddenly cold.

The apprentice was nearing 10 moons, a common age for apprentices to receive their warrior name ceremonies. but with all the drama and corruption, she felt as though her own training was lacking, and she had hardly done anything worthy of receiving her warrior name besides partaking in the battle against MidnightClan. Even then, she was merely back up, there until she had been sent away. She briefly started to wonder what they might call her in the future. Fernflight, Fernwhisker, Fernfoot...

She knew enough not be alerted when she heard the sound of oncoming cat. She stood quickly and darted toward the bushes, hiding her ginger pelt beneath the leaves. Peering out, she saw a dark cat emerge from the slope and place himself against the rocks. Noticing him as one of Talonclan's warriors, she stepped out cautiously and felt suddenly irritated that she had been caught out of camp at dusk. "Hello," she mewed carefully, walking closer to see Heronsong's face, careful not to startle him when he started to groom himself.

[εℓιzαвεтн.]

Heronsong was in the absolute middle of licking his chest fur when he heard the sound of paws approaching cautiously from behind. He froze, ears swiveled back to listen to every twitch of muscle. Black fur stick stuck to the rough of hooks of his tongue, he turned his head slightly. He quickly finished his slight grooming to turn fully to the younger ginger cat that had approached him. The warrior hurriedly swiped a paw over his mouth to make sure his whiskers were in order and that none of his long fur was sticking out of his mouth. He handed been startled, per say, in that his heart had leaped or anything of that sort. Mainly just caught off guard in a moment he didn't care for most other cats to see.

"Hello," he greeted back. Heronsong let a pregnant pause pass, eyes kept anywhere but on the apprentice. Speaking had never been as good of skill for him, not like hunting and balancing was. His head tipped in an awkward nod, unsure of what to do after simple greetings. "How are you? My name's Heronsong."

He swung his large head back to where the sun was setting. This view from the lookout showed all of the other clans, millions of pawsteps away. The forest and ocean clan territories were bathed in orange and pink light, making the land on the other side of the Skyfields look innocent. Heronsong knew they weren't, though. One of those clans had taken their leader. He narrowed his eyes against the light, squinting at the forest that lay far below him.

[Heron]

Fernpaw watched the older warrior with skeptical eyes, feeling like he was being a little sketchy. Her whiskers twitched as they stood; she looking to him and he looking anywhere but. Finally, he turned toward her, and greeted her back. Her eyebrows shot up and she felt her own bitter, unhappy mood come out to play as he introduced himself. I'm not a kit! She wanted to hiss. Her tail twitched in irritation but all she said was, "Uh, yeah. I know who you are." She padded forward to sit near him, but not close enough to share tongues. She looked out onto the territories, the sunset lighting her own fur like golden rays. She loved basking in the dusk; to her, she felt her prettiest. Despite this, however, she felt rather surprised to see another cat on the abandoned lookout. He didn't seem to want to scold her for being away from camp, so she looked at him again, this time with more confidence. "Looks peaceful," she noted softy, "but too bad it's anything but." The younger cat looked at him from the side, hoping he would agree with her.

[εℓιzαвεтн.]

"Uh, yeah. I know who you are."

Heronsong released a bit of a nervous chuckle, "Ah, yes. It, well, it seems as though I don't know who you are." Well, he could take a few guesses of names from the last apprentice ceremony, but it was very hard to keep up with all of the apprentices, especially as he himself didn't have one. It was hard for him to even keep up with all of the names of the warriors and he slept with them. It was better to be on the safe side. He didn't want to get the young she-cat's name wrong and embarrass himself by seeming so confident about himself.

The apprentice sat next to him. (Was her name Foxpaw? Applepaw? It was hard to remember.) He nodded at her words. "Yes. We are lucky to be so far from their border skirmishes," he said calmly. Now that they were both looking out upon the same image, his confidence was restoring itself. "From here, though, it looks nice. It feels like power to be able to look down on the clans from this place." He went silent again, not feeling the need to explain why it made him feel powerful to see the clans from high up when he was probably big enough to sit on a Leafclan warrior. And it didn't feel necessary to explain why that felt like peace, why it soothed him to know the danger was far away from him.

[Heron]

Fernpaw gave her chest a bored and slightly awkward lick, her tail finally calming down as she willed herself to relax. She let out an expected purr of amusement toward Heronsong. "My name is Fernpaw." she introduced, resting her green eyes on him seriously. She was not surprised that he didn't know her. She felt as though the warriors were so busy lately, they hardly kept track of each other-- let alone the cats in training. She couldn't remember if she had seen Heronsong in the battle but assumed that he was. She wondered if he suffered any injuries, but he didn't give off that sort of vibe or really look like it.

"Power," she echoed curiously, turning her attention back to the setting sun over the territories. She imagined StormClan and their wet pelts. MidnightClan and their slinking bodies beneath the pine forest. WhisperClan; running, running... She let out a brief meow of understanding. "Like you're someone important, looking down on your followers." She suggested softly, sprawling herself out so she lay on her side, all four paws sticking straight out from under her, lounging at best. "I wonder if that's what StarClan feels like, except they're even higher. I used to like other clans and now I hate them." She explained bitterly, looking at the other warrior with a fierce sadness in her eyes, as though someone very near to her heart had betrayed her; like they left her heart cold and bleeding. "I will never forgive MidnightClan." On top of her head, her ears flattened.

[εℓιzαвεтн.]

Fernpaw. Heronsong would remember that, and would probably be looking for her in the next few warrior's ceremonies. She looked like she was nearing the end of her training, kitten fluff mainly gone and confidence surrounding her. He nodded at her comments about power. "Yes. Looking down," he said. The other clans couldn't touch them even if they tried. The mountains were rough for those who were not use to them and the trek was rough for those who came from the land of forests and sand.

His shoulders tensed as the topic turned to Midnightclan; the clan Pebblestar came from and was forcibly taken back to. He cleared his throat slightly to ease his own tension and shifted his weight. He didn't look at the lounging ginger apprentice as he said, "Forgiveness is part of life. Clans fight. Clans ally together. Every moon, we have the truce to show the temporary nature of war." Though, as time went on, it seemed as though Midnightclan would forever be enemies with Talonclan. It would take moons, until Heronsong was an elder, before healing could possibly take place; and Heronsong was a young warrior, too.

but, it was useless to hold grudges. At least, it was useless to the black tom. Time passed and wounds would be forgotten. The clans were meant to be together for a reason that only Starclan knew. If they were truly meant to be at constant war with each other, there would be no Gathering and no relationships between warriors of opposing clans. To survive, the clans needed each other. Of course, it was only natural for there to be fights among the clans; that was part of life, too. Yet, life continued even after these bursts of violence. This was all to be learned with age and becoming a warrior and watching your friends and family die. Life was a circle that continued no matter who was fighting who or what wrong had been done. If it was truly meant to be that Talonclan was not meant to be among the clans that were nestled below the mountain, Starclan would have sent them further away and not lead them to where Talonclan can serve as a watcher and protector.

[Heron]

Fernpaw kept her gaze on the patch of sun that shown over WhisperClan's tall, grassy hills. Somewhere, on the other side, she knew there was a cat sitting on those hills, watching the same sun set over the territories. She had family in WhisperClan, and wondered when the time would come would she have to kill her kin? She respected WhisperClan, and respected all other clans because of the fact that TalonClan was the combination of all of them. After the Twoleg war, she was told that cats came together to form TalonClan. Her own parents had left their clans to join together here. It seemed like a lot of TalonClan were cats with paws in multiple clans, and to fight them felt useless; it felt like betrayal.

Her mouth went dry so she leaned down some small drops from a leaf that was perched near her. It was such an easy thing for Heronsong to say. She almost felt like she'd heard it before from her mentor, or maybe her mother. The young cat had a fiery passion for her clan, but the kidnapping of Pebblestar left her feeling blank. She was naive to think that her training, her skills, her warrior name were all just pieces of a worthless tradition. Cats died. Cats were made warriors to fight other warriors. They trained to kill. She was hardly ever soft, but it was like a fresh dip in the river for the ginger she-cat. She suddenly felt like being a warrior was so much more than previously thought. The attack on Pebblestar was undeniably hurtful. To admire a cat so much...to think she was unstoppable...to think she was the strongest....to have her kidnapped and taken away by another clan? It was vile to think they could take her down that way. It made Fernpaw feel vulnerable. It made her feel like an easy target for picking.

"I have family in WhisperClan." she admitted, bored. She doubted this would be a shock to Heronsong. Her arrogance had dwindled into a scared uncertainty. "How can I one day look my kin in the eye and realize that they want to kill me, to hurt me? To think I imagined meeting them like it would be a great gathering. Instead, I might have to murder them. And seeing what TalonClan did to Pebblestar so easily makes me think that WhisperClan would do the same so easily....maybe even kidnap someone like me. I'm nothing compared to a leader."

[εℓιzαвεтн.]

"It's part of life," Heronsong said simply. It would be too much to say that no one would expect the young apprentice to kill her own family; no one could be expected to do that. To kill one's family was to sentence oneself to eternal banishment. The words of comfort sat at the back of his throat; the 'that would never happen's, 'you're safe here's, and 'you're important, too's. Words were useless and were often used as cushioning for the realities of life. An apprentice must be prepared for the harsh truths. "Talonclan may need you to be strong for them, no matter who you are fighting. It's the way of a warrior. but, kidnapping is cowardly and not honorable among our clans. What Midnightclan did should never have happened." He paused, crunching his eyebrows together to find his next words and control his bitterness about the yellow-bellied clan. Heronsong cleared his throat again. "but it did, and life will go on from it."

Heronsong settled himself down onto his stomach, paws tucked under his chest and long furred tail wrapped around his own back for added warmth. He ought to share his own life with the apprentice now that she had shared her's, but what would be the point? He never asked his parents what clan he came from. His sister was another warrior here and his brother had died when they were kits. He very well could have family out there, below him, but if he did, he didn't know about it, and he would like to keep it that way. It would complicate matters unnecessarily. He glanced over at the lounging apprentice, and said, "The clans are not meant to coexist peacefully at all times. We would all be one clan if that was true. Fighting, forgiveness, death. The cycle continues on. You fight for the clan's survival and the survival of your family; to kill one for the survival of the other is unexpected."

It occurred to Heronsong that he might have spent to much time in his lonesome apprentice days with the elders. They taught him more than his mentor did, perhaps, and he became prematurely aged. He wasn't even 20 moons, yet acted like he had seen all the wars that were whispered into the ears of kits to keep them from misbehaving. This self-awareness made him look away from Fernpaw, back out across the clans. He wondered what they were doing, if they were fighting among themselves now. Heronsong wondered what truly was the purpose of the clans' constant bickering and changing alliances. After death, they would all be in Starclan and there would be no Midnightclan or Leafclan or Talonclan. There weren't suppose to be boundaries in Starclan; Siverpelt showed that every night.

[Heron]

Fernpaw looked at him squarely and decided that he was right. She wasn't about to argue or tell him that he was wrong. He wasn't. She felt in down in her core that she was venting, or ranting, or just mewing her simple thoughts. Ruining the moment, probably. She was thankful to hear him inquire that kidnapping was not honorable. Nobody had ever said anything about kidnapping in the first place. Her trainings did not cover clans that disobeyed their leaders and stole other ones. She suddenly felt flushed, keeping her eyes on the hills of WhisperClan in the distance. Once the warrior was finished speaking, she was quiet for a long time. Almost not knowing what to say, or do, she kept staring out onward to the territories until the brilliant, bright colors of the sunset descending had turned into darker shades of orange and pink. Her ginger fur no longer shined in the sun, but instead had been dosed out like a blown-out match.

"You're pretty wise." she said finally, tearing her gaze away to look at Heronsong. She was still lounged on her side. "Apprentice trainings have been neglected for a while. With Pebblestar gone, it seemed like everyone was too busy to train us. I know my mentor was." she admitted quietly. She had no idea why she was spilling her thoughts to him. They were not friends. but there was something making her hazy on the abandoned lookout. Something in the way the sun was making it feel like a dream to look down over the clans. The air was fresher and more crisp than in camp. It was easier to think. To say. "When I charged into MidnightClan, I thought I would feel invincible. but I felt vulnerable." The she-cat shook her head. "I would defend TalonClan with my life. but lately I've been feeling like TalonClan doesn't feel the same way. You don't even know my name," she looked at him, a playful gleam in her eye. "I'm wondering if I thought apprenticeship...being a warrior..doing what a warrior is trained to do...was all better in my head, the make believe game I imagined it to be. When you are in battle, other cats at your throat, it is like nothing I ever imagined. Have you ever felt like that?"

[εℓιzαвεтн.]

ooc; sorry for my late reply! :c
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It was a long moment before the apprentice spoke again. The sun had quickly dipped below the horizon in the few minutes the cats had been talking about warrior life and the consequences of clan actions, and now just the very top quarter of the now orange sun was showing, colors in the sky deepening to much deeper tones than the livelier colors of an early sunset. His black coat had been dyed with the colors, fur easily tinted with the light. When Fernpaw did speak, all Heronsong could do was nod. Yes, he had felt very vulnerable during battles, which is why he preferred to stick to hunting as opposed to fighting. He was no good at fighting, despite his large size at his advantage. And, yes, the warriors of the clan were very busy under the guidance of their frantic deputy.

Heronsong also understood the feeling of not being protected. As a warrior, the task was to protect the clan; protect the kits, the queens, the elders, and the sick. Being someone who fought to keep his clan alive, he couldn't help but wonder at times who would be there to keep him alive. but, he had once been told as an apprentice something very important. "The needs of the clan come before any one individual's needs," he said to the ginger apprentice. He knew it was scary to risk your life for the clan you loved and that it wasn't all glory and heroism, but as he grew older, out of that dreamlike apprentice stage, he realized how fulfilling it was to serve his own clan and be the best warrior her could be.

"Being a warrior is not as fun as it seems when you're an apprentice; at least it wasn't for me. but, it's better than having the duties of an apprentice. And, what I have found, is that every thing I do to help our clan survive makes me feel confident and strong," he said slowly and surely. "I know that as long as I can provide for my clan, I am needed." He left a heavy pause pass, trying to choose his words carefully. He glanced over at the lounging she-cat and felt as though she needed comfort about the security of her life. It is scary to think that your own life is not of top priority to clan; even though it was. Heronsong wanted to tap her comfortingly with the tip of his tail, but found that he couldn't. "You're meant to protect and serve, or die trying. However, you are not disposable. It is every clan's wish to keep their warriors alive and healthy until they become elders. Just because you are the one protecting Talonclan does not mean the other warriors wouldn't die protecting you. I would. Although, I have to warn you, I'm not a very good fighter," he joked.

The black cat was beginning to tire with all of this talking and the chill was beginning to set in the air as the sun sunk lower int the ground. Soon, night would fully be upon them and Silverpelt would be gleaming fully in the sun. He turned his gaze away from Fernpaw and back over the clans, watching the last rays of light glinting on Sunsetclan's ocean. He hoped Fernpaw wouldn't get too cold with her short fur.

[Heron]

ooc: why am I in love with heronsong...he's a cutie. εℓιzαвεтн.

bic;

"The needs of the clan come before any one individual's needs,"

Well, that certainly was true. Fernpaw thought of the scene she came upon when she charged into MidnightClan camp, her thin fur bristled and her heart hammering against her chest. There had been cats being torn to pieces, so easily sliced by claws. And chunks of flesh taken out by sharp fangs. MidnightClanners were fast...and sly. She had remembered how one had tricked her into thinking they were to battle, only for another cat to pounce onto her back. It had been a warrior, much larger than she, and if only she hadn't rolled; if only she hadn't remembered to never let them get the best of you...she could be dead. A certain spot between her shoulder blades where the warrior's claws had sunk into her began to itch. She reached up with her back leg to scratch it mindlessly and winced at the small soreness she felt. Though it had been healed since the battle, and her fur had covered it up immensely.

She studied Heronsong carefully and wondered what he would've been like in the apprentice den. He was bigger than her but did not seem all that much older; yet he no longer had the apprentice look to him. His fully grown fur had grown in and he bore signs of battle and experience and hunts. It irked her that what he was saying was noble and true. She felt somewhat young and vulnerable in front of him, and carefully she sat up to pull herself close together so he could not see the fair spots on her ginger body, where her kit-like fur had not yet thickened. You are not disposable. Fernpaw let the words take form in her mind and tried her best to make them stick. That's what she was feeling, wasn't it? Like none of this mattered-- as long she killed, even her own family, then she had purpose? but silly her. She should've seen that she WASN'T disposable, especially not in times like these where leafbare would be upon them so easily and quickly, and warriors and kits would become like valuable jewels.

When he declared that he would defend her, Fernpaw cursed Starclan for letting the sun sink down into the horizon, taking with it its striking reds and oranges. They had reflected golden red on her fur, and she could have disguised her blush. but now, it was easy to tell that her blush truly was not a mirage, and had sprouted from his words. Why was she feeling sheepish? She would die for Heronsong, too. He was her clan-kin. Quickly she turned her head and began to lick at her paws hurriedly, tasting small bits of dirt and dust on her rough tongue. When he joked about not being a very good fighter, she let out an amused purr. For the first time, her mood seemed lightened and less dull. "I'm sure you'd be fine," she said honestly. She kept her green eyes down and waited patiently for the sky to light up with stars. "This is my favorite spot to visit, but I usually don't have company up here with me. Maybe we run on different schedules, though. It's easier to get close to Starclan here than it is to walk all the way to Skyfield."

[εℓιzαвεтн.]

ooc; *nervous laughter* Haha, I'm back, Heron! And yes, he's very cute. :3 And so is Fernpaw. They could be good friends!
ic;

Heronsong wasn't exactly sure what he had said that caused the faint pink rise to the young she-cats face, but it must surely have been something that he had said. Or, perhaps, it was something the apprentice was thinking about. Whatever it was, he was thankful that it happened and that he had caught in the moment he took to look back at the she-cat as she sat up, for the color that shone through Fernpaw's short ginger fur was faint, but pretty. Alluring and dainty, in a way. but, he was only able to see the graceful blush for a few heartbeats before to quickly turned to clean herself and he turned, more slowly and controlled, to look back at the darkening lands that lay below them.

The black warrior nodded at her small comment about his fighting skills and hummed noncommittally at her words about how close the lookout was to the Starclan. It was a welcome change to the heavy topic about worth to the clan and meaning as warrior. Speaking about those topics took time, energy, and thought, and he was easily exhausted by it. "I suppose Starclan would see it unfair that Talonclan be so close to them while the others are distanced. I know the other clans would," he said, more to talk and fill the air than to actually cause any sort of conversation. He carefully kept his voice neutral and light, interest in the way the early stars had begun reflecting off the smooth water.

He again glanced up at the apprentice who was sitting up beside him. "I'm normally here for the sunrises. Maybe I should try to be here for the sunsets more often." The night was beginning to settle in, bringing with it a chill. A breeze, common in his mountain home, strolled through their spot, ruffling his long black fur. "Are you getting cold?" he asked, eyeing the short fur she sported. Fernpaw probably wasn't able to retain as much body heat as he and she most likely didn't absorb the sun's rays quite as well as his black coat. Heronsong could still feel the fading warmth of the sun, though it had sunken below the distant horizon several minutes ago. He shifted in her direction, offering up his own space and body heat in case the apprentice was cold.

[Deleted]

Applepaw licked his paw and dragged it over his face. He didn't have many friends yet, and he intended to gain some soon. It wasn't fun being all alone, he was too social for that! He rolled on his back and groaned in boredom. The ginger cat yawned, his eyes glinting in his yellow eyes.