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Joined: 12-February 18
Last Seen: May 18 2018, 10:54 PM
Local Time: May 21 2018, 05:41 PM
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May 3 2018, 06:29 AM
Murkykit had fallen into the river, and had almost died, he wasn't sure how much more the clan could take, in the last few moons alone the river had claimed too many lives. Wraithkit, Ramsay, Hazelspots, and now it had damn near taken Murkykit. He had been trying to figure out what to do, when it occurred to him, that perhaps putting something near the river the kits could recognize could help.
So the for the next several days, when he wasn't hunting or patrolling he had taken to the river looking for some inspiration that could be used. Herbs were too valuable to be wasted. Prey would rot and would likely attract things that would endanger the clan needlessly. Barriers of any kind, be it briars or thorns would only result in unnecessary injuries that would surely set Supernatural on the warpath. The thought of which sent a shiver down the wildcat's spine, which is when he had found it.
A broad and flat rock, worn smooth by the river and a pale white, it all but shone in the early evening light. If put against the undergrowth, it could be easily seen, so he began the task of finding them and bringing them back to towards camp putting them at random intervals, anywhere he thought that should the kits wander they might see them.
He wasn't sure if it would work, and wasn't sure if it would be useful at all, but better to seek forgiveness than ask permission. He had to do something, the look in Valeriansong's eyes when she had almost lost her daughter was more than he could bear.
He had come to terms with the fact that he had feelings for the young queen, but had never acted upon, preferring to watch over her and the rest from the background. Yet it wasn't just her he had grown fond of, it was the kits. They were so pure, and innocent, he couldn't help but want to protect them.
So he continued this task, beginning in the morning when he would patrol, followed by a long hunt in the afternoon, and at evening he would dive into the river and look for the white stones, spending hours in the water pushing aside rocks and pebbles hoping to spot some brief flash of white. At first they had been easy to find, but as the days wore on, they were harder and harder to come by, and soon the territory was dotted with white stones. He was careful to arrange them so that the pattern gave the river a wide berth, yet would not lead any enemies to the clan as the pattern was random and constantly went in circles, as if a blind rabbit had laid them down while in a fevered dash with death at its heels.
Apr 9 2018, 08:49 AM
He had been hunting since early in the morning, the new camp was coming together beautifully, but there was still a ways to go. With Valeriansong's new litter it seemed like the fresh kill pile never stayed full for very long, so he had made a point to always go hunting early in the morning.
The thought of the pretty calico she cat brought a smile to his face as he caught another plump fish in his talons. He turned gracefully in the water, barely making a ripple and padded back to shore where a small pile of fish awaited him. It had been on another shore like this one that he had met Val for the first time.
He had been floating in darkness, he didn't know for how long, didn't much care either. He just recalled feeling at peace, there was nothing, no pain, no sadness, just a calm tranquility. It had been pulling him towards a place of rest. He didn't know how he knew that, he just knew that had he gone to that place, he would have been able to rest.
As his days in RiverClan grew, he had often revisited these memories in an effort to try to recover the ones he was unable to reach. Supernatural called it amnesia. Each time he recalled his time in that place, he had started to remember something he had forgotten. He had been so very close to going to the resting place, been a mouse length away when he had heard a song. It had been a sweet melody that had called to him drawing him away, bringing him back from the brink of death. When he had opened his eyes she had been there. Valeriansong.
He had been scared, he didn't remember anything, he didn't know where he came from or who he was. He reacted, he snarled at her, a she cat who despite growling back still looked at him with concern in her eyes. She had found him, he realized she had been the one to call him back. He supposed that was when he had started to have feelings for her.
She was the embodiment of compassion, her warmth and kindness touched everyone. She had so much love to give, and she gave it all asking for nothing in return. He couldn't help it.
Before he had realized it, he had started to look for her, just wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know what she was thinking, what were her dreams? He would bring her fresh kill sometimes hoping to see her smile, if for only a moment.
Before he had realized it, he had begun to fall for her, but when the day came, when the realization had washed over him like an ocean wave on the shore, he was horrified. He had no right to like her, what could he offer her? She was the daughter of Hollowstar, a most beloved member of the clan. Her sister was Supernatural the medicine cat, she was the heart of the clan.
Who was he? He was a former loner who had washed up on the shores of RiverClan half dead with no memory of who he was or where he had come from. No, he would never dare approach her with his feelings, he wasn't good enough for her, being her friend was already more than enough.
These thoughts left a bitter taste in his mouth as he made his way towards camp. He padded in and dropped his catch on the pile, looking at the nursery with a smile, knowing Valeriansong would be there resting having just kitted days before.
The thought brought with it a a twinge of pain that exploded in his head like white fire. His legs buckled and with a roar he fell to the ground, eyes closed tightly willing the pain away.
The fractured images came too fast, they made his stomach turn. There was fire, the smell of burning flesh. There was so much blood, there was always blood, it went up to his knees. He was calling out to someone, he was crying out to them, his throat hurt from the fire. He was begging them to stop, he was running towards them, he was pleading with everything he had, he didn't want to do this, he couldn't let them do this, how could they do this! How could she do this? She? The thought of a female was burned away as still more images flashed before his eye too quickly, only able to see a few.
Mountains, coyotes, the harsh tang of iron and blood. He was crying out, as he was held down. He was looking at someone, his heart was breaking, he knew them. He roared, he was fighting, he was being tortured, he was falling, he had fallen into water. He had fallen into a river.
He lay in the middle of camp, tail lashing, limbs thrashing, and in the span of a minute, it was over, he lay still, his sides heaving, his eyes wet with tears.
He was remembering, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. Who had he been?