raventhorn doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
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Played By: mikki
Custom Title: i'ma say all the words inside my head
Joined: 13-June 17
Last Seen: Oct 15 2017, 07:58 PM
Local Time: Oct 18 2017, 03:12 AM
154 posts (1.2 per day)
( 0.75% of total forum posts )
Oct 2 2017, 03:03 PM
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<div class="mikkipost">raventhorn came back to awareness slowly, as though slogging through belly-deep mud. it took effort to open his eyes, felt like he'd been asleep for moons. but even though it was his
eyes he looked through, no longer imprisoned at the back of his mind to watch from a helpless distance, the rest of his body was beyond his grasp. raventhorn was no more a puppet on strings,
forced to watch from the front row as the parasite in his mind made him dance.
shadowclan's camp lay entrenched in shadow before him, familiar and yet impossibly foreign. like he'd been away for a long time and came back to find things nearly the same, except for a few minor details. maybe the freshkill pile had moved, maybe a new den cropped up in the corner.
it took raventhorn a long while to realize this wasn't shadowclan's camp, but a dream version of it.
the silence settled over the forest was near maddening in its absoluteness. not a whisper of sound cut through the quiet, no muffled voice or blowing wind or the rustle of branches rattling overhead.
<p>not quite so empty,
said the voice in his head. it forced raventhorn's attention to a far corner in camp, where a single cat lay curled in a ball, sleeping soundly. it was all too easy to recognize the light ginger hue of her fur, the scars that criss-crossed her thin body like the words across a page.
raventhorn's heart raced to a thunderous beat, apprehension buzzing in his ears like an ever-growing swarm of bees. the voice laughed darkly, deeply. i should have taken care of you months ago, but my master has never allowed me to have any fun. and when i read your thoughts, saw your memories, i knew just how much fun i could have tearing apart your friends and family while you watched helplessly.
the bolt of anger that shot through raventhorn was intense than anything he'd felt before. more than the raw agony that followed in the passing of his mother and father, more than the bitter sting his taunting clanmates had ever managed to inflict. it swept over raventhorn in a white-hot wave of rage,
enough that for a moment, just a single heartbeat, the control the spirit had on him wavered. "stay the fuck away from her!"
the words tore from his mouth of his own volition, ripped free before the spirit could wrestle back control. the violent words split the air, shockingly loud in the thick silence.
Aug 21 2017, 02:47 PM
[dohtml]<div style="width: 450px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: verdana;">there was so much blood.
the burning in his chest grew stronger and more intense, until raventhorn remembered to breathe and sucked in a lungful of air. the breath bathed his tongue in the rank tang of coppery blood, and it was all he could do not to violently retch. raventhorn didn't know where to look first - he didn't want to look at all - but he knew he had to look and memorize every little detail because this was no coincidence.
there was no way goldenpaw lay sprawled, a mirror image to their father's brutal murder, and it still be a weird coincidence. the body looked nothing at all like his brother, but there was no mistaking the familiar scent or pale orange fur. goldenpaw was the only one who had been born looking like their mother, all soft curves and longer fur and round cheeks. it seemed impossible that this goldenpaw,
with his eyes plucked and ears shredded and teeth scattered around his body, was his little brother.
a low moan slipped past raventhorn's tight-lipped grimace. he was unable to stop himself from collapsing to the ground, weak in the knees from the nausea. this couldn't be happening. he'd put crowtalon's death behind him. he''d finally put his father's ghost to rest, had started to move on.
raventhorn had made friends. he had a family again. even if they weren't related by blood, burnbright and waspheart and lightpaw - and yes, even owlpaw - were his family. "this can't be happening..."
a breathy, ragged voice whispered in his ears, oh, it's happening.
despite the overwhelming humidity of the day, an icy chill crept up raventhorn's spine. he whirled on the voice, claws out and teeth bared, only to find empty space greeting him.
i'm over here, pipsqueak.
raventhorn spun again, and this time there was someone waiting for him. the cat stood over his brother's body, looking down at the lifeless corpse with an unreadable expression on their face.
when they lifted their head to look at raventhorn, a malicious grim spread across its face.. well hello, it's about time we finally met.
he gave no warning. anger and instinct sent raventhorn barreling toward the cat, but he simply dove straight through them with outstretched claws. too surprised to make a proper landing, raventhorn hit the ground with a faint oof. he had very little time to react when the cat lumbered over and stood above him. just enough to bare his teeth in a heavy snarl that ripped out of his throat with such fierce aggression that, for a single moment, the spirit looked almost afraid. but then the spirit descended on him, and raventhorn's face went curiously blank.
for a long moment the forest lapsed into silence. the only sound was raventhorn's ragged breathing,
the soft rustle of branches brushing together overhead. then, with a soft grunt, he rose to his paws and scrambled over to goldenpaw's body. he crouched down to touch his nose to goldenpaw's bloodied, patched flank - oh, it had done such good work on this one, much better than it had with the father.
the dark gleam in his yellow eyes flickered briefly before fading, and then the thing wearing raventhorn's face tilted its head back and loosed a mournful wail. </div>[/dohtml]
Aug 16 2017, 05:32 PM
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okay. so he was a little panicked. scratch that, he was a lot
panicked. raventhorn raced from den to den, poking his head into each one. "burnbright?"
he shouted into the dimly lit dens, much to the chagrin of its current inhabitants. the queens hissed at him and told him to knock it off, though the damage was already been done - several of the kits, their naps disturbed, took up a cry so high-pitched and terrible it left raventhorn with an echoing ring in his ears.
seeing those tiny little faces gazing up at him brought his predicament right back to the forefront of his thoughts. somehow, some way, raventhorn had managed to land himself with a kit
. the watcher wasn't entirely sure how this happened - he found sugar on the border, had brought the kit home, and now... they were attached. raventhorn didn't know how to parent, he didn't have much experience in that department! father? murdered! mother? dead from grief! the one and only parental figure he had was his former mentor, but even his relationship with her was tumultuous at best.
he left the medicine den to the very end; which, now that he thought about it, was a stupid idea. of all the places burnbright might be, if she wasn't in the warriors den or in camp, was the medicine den visiting lightpaw or middy. "burnbright?! damn it, woman, i need to talk to you. it's important."
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clearly i don't see myself up on that list
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Aug 7 2017, 12:01 PM
[dohtml]<div style="width: 450px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: verdana;">the gentle warbling of early morning birdsong greeted raventhorn when he left that morning. the predawn light lit the forest just enough for him to see where he was going, which wasn't entirely clear - even to him. raventhorn's steps were aimless that morning, meandering this way one moment before suddenly changing course to send him in a different direction altogether. sleep had evaded him that night once again, as it had the night before and the night before that. he was short tempered and irritable, but not just because of the lack of sleep. the inability to sleep meant he couldn't walk in dreams, and every moment spent not practicing his new gift led him farther from the path laid out by his father. raventhorn almost felt like he was disappointing crowtalon, even though the reasonable part of his mind knew he hadn't done anything to warrant it.
raventhorn's path eventually led to the eastern edge of shadowclan's territory. it was the very place where he'd gone in search of waspheart, nearly two moons ago now. for a long moment he stood staring at the invisible scent line, memories cast backwards in time to the night he'd gone in search of his friend. the resulting encounter with rogues had eventually led to his first meeting with burnbright, and then... everything else had bloomed from there. funny how one moment could change everything.
Aug 3 2017, 07:12 PM
[dohtml]<div style="width: 450px; text-align:justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: verdana;">sleep evaded him that night, a frenzied quarry that ran round and round in circles just beyond his reach. right when he thought he had the elusive slumber in his grasp it would tear itself free and go running off again, disturbed by the sound of voices in the den or something outside, a byproduct of the weather or a predator ambling through. sleep had long been a problem for raventhorn, his troubles beginning shortly after the death of both parents. nightmares plagued his dreams, visions of the creatures his face had once dreamed up for entertainment. the grotesque figures, once no more frightening than a mouse, suddenly turned violent. they chased him through his fragile unconsciousness, until one night they sent him stumbling right out of sleep. that was the beginning of his sleepless nights.
for a long time raventhorn had dealt with it, spending his nights prowling the territory or laying awake staring at the roof of the den. he caught the barest wisps of sleep where he could, curled in the hollow of an old fallen log or in the collapsed scoop of an ancient rabbit burrow. after waspheart so boldly stepped into his life and refused to leave, his nights were easier to face. sleepless evenings once spent alone, near-drowning in the tumult of his own dark thoughts, suddenly became crowded with waspheart's presence. but it was a good sort of crowded; the comfortable kind. it was the first time raventhorn had allowed someone, a stranger no less, close to him.
but since waspheart's leaving and subsequent return, raventhorn's nights were once again a lonely affair. they reminded him a lot of his younger days, when he spent night after night on his own. even now, when he had more cats in his life than he'd ever had when his family was alive, raventhorn's nights were lonesome. he couldn't involve burnbright in them, she had enough of his troubles as it was. owlpaw frequently joined him in his insomnia; in fact, it seemed like she enjoyed training at night more than the day. raventhorn didn't question it, her company was welcome on the especially bad nights when all he needed was someone to tussle with. however pricky she might be.
he buried his face further into the curve of his own belly, curling into a tighter and tighter coil until his back could bow no further. the den around him was silent, save for the soft hush of breathing and the occasional murmur as some cat talked in their sleep. a sense of unease crawled up his spine, raked chilling claws along the deep scars in his back. raventhorn endured the anxiety only for so long before he seemed to spring apart in a silent flurry of limbs, bounding out of the warriors den and into the warm greenleaf air outside. he gulped mouthfuls of the humid air, feeling just as suffocated outside as he did in the den. then he was off like a rocket, sprinting toward the exit. he tore through with little regard for the sleeping denizens of the camp, half-snarling under his breath when the branches tore at his thin pelt.