Recent content by Vulturepaw

VULTUREPAWHE / ANY ⛧ WINDCLAN APPRENTICE Unease prickles at Vulturepaw's pelt as he passes the threshold into the sacred grounds. He has never held StarClan's favor; they have taken enough from him already. Tales of star-pelted spirits descending in the face of bloodshed feel more like warning...

He lets himself drown in the sound of wind whipping against his ears, content to trudge along behind his mentor. Silkpaw seems more than eager to take the lead, trotting along with her head raised high like she was born for it. It's a little embarassing, slinking along like a nervous kit while...

She's distracted, as she creeps through the meadows. Even though a chill still lingers in the air, the fields are abloom with color. It's all she can do to breathe it in, head twisting to and fro to see all the sights that the newleaf moors have to offer. Until - he turns his head back to face...

Periwinklebreeze's body is still cold beneath the earth. The dark season chipped away at Vulturepaw's heart like frostbite, slowling its frantic beating until he thought himself soon to join his father. Grief weighs upon him still, even as the thaw begins. He tries to find joy in the return of...

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　He cleans the blood from Periwinklebreeze's fur with all the care he can muster. Even as he trembles, even as his vision blurs with tears. He was not there to see him die. Maybe that is a mercy. It does not feel like one. He was given the day off, to rest while his dad was out...

does it ever end

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　The loner lands border has become a common haunt for Vulturepaw. If there is no one left to sympathise with the stolen youths of DuskClan, he is glad to take the responsibility upon himself. Wary eyes flicker to the grasslands beyond the scentlines as he hunts - alone, always...

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　Excuses. Vulturepaw's tail lashes and twists. How stupid does everyone think he is? How many times will Bluefrost and Thriftfeather change the story on him? Thriftfeather's words only fuel the simmering unease; he sounds as though he has given up on them, just like everyone...

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　It is a rare occasion that Vulturepaw visits the graveyard. The place unsettles him, the endless stones for cats whose names he will never know. He has family buried beneath this earth. Nightingalecry, her memory marred with red. Deathpaw, her legacy torn across Marrowpaw's face...

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　Reckless paws cross the border. He's older now, he can get away with more, go off on his own more easily. Periwinklebreeze is resting today, something that would normally fill him with anxiety - and it does, but there is purpose to his thrumming heartbeat now. Vulturepaw clasps...

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　Vulturepaw cannot stand the barren-ness of leafbare. Dried grasses and wilted flowers feel all too reminescent of that dead and rotting place beyond the borders, feel all too expansive and lonely. He had taken the last chance he had to weave flowers into the gorse, back in...

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　Periwinklebreeze lands himself in the medicine den again and again, and it only makes Vulturepaw cling tighter. The scars that riddle his dad's body make far too much sense, and as he grows older he begins to see the warrior for what he is: reckless, self-sacrificing. Cursed by...

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　It feels almost normal, patrolling with Thriftfeather. As if he is like any other member of the clan, as if he was not a prisoner mere moons ago. A rogue, when they first met. It is almost normal, except for the way that her eyes keep drifting towards the border. Highstones looms...