Recent content by TWITCHSTAR

DuskClan's scent smogged his senses, but hopefully not his reason. He was unimpressed, bemused really at the lack of another Clan at this Gathering... Scorchstar's empty spot loomed like some undefined threat, branded there and smouldering, with stench of a WindClan enemy nearby. As they had...

He'd be an awful leader, an even worse friend, to ignore Greeneyes in all of this. Everything had happened so suddenly, the medicine den taking blow after blow... Fireflyglow's abduction, Fawnpaw hurtled into a clueless position and then the den flooded and raked through with lightning-spiked...

It looked as if they'd, they'd... flayed something, certainly unnatural. It was a Twoleg thing if he'd ever seen one... woven so tightly, and yet tattered as old moss. Twitchstar watched on with something akin to bewilderment on his face, nicked ears skyward to attention. Moving something like...

Wether fetched or otherwise, Twitchstar ended up here, patching up the problem best he could with shaky paws. And this was an uncommon problem... someone just waltzing right in, as Brightfire observed past the bramble walls and the stink. Not alone, claimed the stranger, after Billiepaw's...

It appeared if he could rely on Sealpaw for anything, it was earnestness... Twitchstar struggled to believe that anyone who was lying would be quite so shaky and uncertain. Unless it was some masterful double bluff. But that would be uncharitable, wouldn't it? And it felt ridiculous to accuse...

He could never blame Florabreeze for being jarred, when his mind felt like it lagged behind his body plenty already. With the change of leadership and seasons, the divots his paws were meant to fill felt like they were shifting and changing, always inching larger and larger, evading that he...

It hadn't been long since the last one, but... each leap to the Highbranch was feeling easier. There, he could imagine his paws might start to fit into the divots. There was no smile upon his face as he declared, "All cats old enough to scale the trees, please gather for a Clan meeting!" But...

Blood, it always seemed to hit him like a truck— sudden, overwhelming, nauseating. Maybe after all this time it shouldn't have him wobbling on his paws. By all logic he should not falter, but... his heart's never obeyed his mind. It thumps ferociously, blood roaring through his ears, as he races...

"All– all cats old enough to scale the trees, please gather for a Clan meeting." Impromptu. Not like him, really... someone who was armed to the teeth, and tended to crash quite loudly around his routines, preparations settled spiny in his paws. Being leader, though... even if it sickened him...

As Figfeather began to grasp what he was meaning, Twitchstar's gaze kept its wideness— the intent, though, changed. The tenseness of what had brewed before, teetering on the edge of panic, began to give way into something softened... something gladdened, a gasp of accomplished air. It had seemed...

Knowing we'd win, she said... and really there was never a way to be sure. Twitchstar's jaw tightened further, knowing instinctively it was a risk he wasn't willing to take. His tongue traced the gaps between his fangs in the slackening of his wrenching tenseness. The folding of his stomach sank...

With a flick of a crooked tail he called his deputy to action... that being, hushed discussion between them both, in the now-deserted shelter of his den. Figfeather had been chosen as his closest advisor for a reason; that he knew she would not shy away from the same harshness he felt this...

Dawn soaked through the parting clouds. Rain had faded to static through the night, allowing some sleep, and the new day greeted them with something hardly healing. Twitchstar sighed against the gentle heat of the sunlight, easily roused by its prickling; he stretched with all the space he could...

The assurance was what he wanted... the idea seeming so horrifying that Chickbloom had to cry out in its stupidity. He kept going, though... defensiveness, justifying his doubts. Twitchstar felt an emptying sense of relatability, an exasperation he could only attribute to familiarity. Yes, this...

Blood still buzzed warm on his claws, and yet there seemed to be no grudge held... unexpectedly, there was some similarity between the two of them. Spur-off-the-moment was just that, a shout— an outburst, resolved, and washed away like river-rapids after rain. Her admittance coaxed something of...