Warrior Cats: A RPG

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Rank: Deputy
Gender: Male
Played By: Lunlun
Custom Title: The Patrol Guy™
Joined: 2-August 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Dec 10 2017, 03:03 PM
Local Time: Dec 14 2017, 03:07 PM
137 posts (1 per day)
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Nov 22 2017, 10:39 PM
Cedarheart's stomach churned with worry and anxiety in equal parts. What he was doing was both a necessity and a courtesy, but he wasn't sure what reception he'd find in actually doing it. He hesitated with a fish in his jaws and his pale eyes locked on the leader's den ahead of him.

Hollowstar had been weakening. The same greencough that had killed Stonestar was now settling in the lungs of his successor and it frightened Cedarheart more than he was willing to admit. Hollowstar was not an old cat: far from it, the black tom was about the same age as Cedarheart himself. But stress weakened the heart and with it the body could follow. As angry as Hollowstar was with him now, Cedarheart couldn't bring himself to let go.

Daisyfall's advice rang in his ears. Whether Hollowstar would forgive him was something Cedarheart couldn't assume, but he knew by the twist of his heart that he still loved Hollowstar. Though he'd lost the intimacy of that relationship, he knew that his oath of loyalty remained. Cedar was still deputy, and Hollow his leader.

Treasure what you have.

It was late, the sun beginning to slip behind the distant trees and the air beginning to cool. Cedarheart finally seemed to move, as though the ice in his limbs had melted away. Approaching the den, he set the fish on the ground and called hesitantly to his leader. "Hollowstar?" he meowed, surprising even himself with the steadiness of his voice and the composure on his face. "Have you had a chance to eat today?"

Nov 5 2017, 09:46 PM
Cedarheart stepped past the other cats as they returned from the border patrol. Even setting aside the stolen moments with Wildeye and the returning blanket of grief for his sister, there were other burdens on Cedarheart's mind that were beginning to catch at his heels. He couldn't allow the matter to rest for much longer, knowing what he did about Spottedlegs and Hollowfrost's broken relationship. Knowing that the moment he'd shared with Hollowfrost's sister was something that the other deputy was, as of yet, unaware of.

The cinnamon tom spotted a glimmer of sleek black pelt and called gently to gather his attention. "Hollowfrost?" meowed Cedarheart. "Do you have a second to talk?" The deputy of civil affairs gestured with a tilt of his head, hoping to draw the other deputy back out of camp so they could talk. It was obvious in the tension of Cedar's shoulders that something was bothering him, but he did his best to be calm and friendly as always.

Whatever Hollowfrost's reply would be, Cedarheart padded back out to wait for the other deputy outside of camp. And, when the black tom would join him, he would lead him a little further for more privacy among the tall sedge and grasses.

Oct 21 2017, 03:06 PM
Perhaps this wasn't the best place to keep coming back to. It felt right, just lying in the soft sand by the river and gazing out to where the rippling stream joined with deeper waters. He could remember the sharp bite of the ice on his paws last leafbare; the sensation had burned deep into his pads and left him numb for days afterward. Somehow he'd still felt it, numb as he was and cold as the rest of him had gotten when they fought to break that ice. The back of his neck prickled with uncertainty as he wondered how 'right' this would feel when the snow came back.

Pale green eyes flickered to stare at deeper water. Willowflight would have been happy, knowing that Wildeye had come home. His sister had never once doubted in her best friend's promise to return. 'She's as spirited as her name,' Willowflight had told him, 'but her spirit makes her strong. She'll be here after the snow melts; it's just a matter of time.' And he had believed her. Though not as tightly-bound as Eastcreek and Westriver, he and Willowflight had borne each other's joys and burdens. He'd trusted her like no other, and in turn that trust had reflected on the company Willow had kept.

Wildeye's scent carried on the breeze, upwind of where he lay on the strip of land between stream and river. He didn't call to her; he knew that she'd cross the shallow water to join him if that's what she wanted. Even in that, there was some sort of reliability to Wildeye.

He rested his chin on his paws, a ghost of a smile crossing his face as he imagined the knowing look he'd get from Willowflight for that. Sometimes sisters knew a little more than they should.
Oct 5 2017, 02:32 PM
There would be time to grieve before the vigil. Not much, but enough. Hollowfrost was likely with Stonestar, and Cinderpaw had gone off on her own. As much as he'd loathed the idea of leaving the young she-cat alone in her grief, she seemed to shun their attempts to comfort her. She wanted space and however reluctant he might be to give it, she certainly deserved to make that choice.

The guilt felt heavy on his shoulders. Perhaps if he'd been the one to go with Lakepaw that sunhigh,
none of this would have happened. Or maybe he'd have been the one to watch her fall. That thought didn't sit easy with him, though he knew it wouldn't have been the other tom's fault. It was difficult to lose a Clanmate, and to have them slip away in front of you was worse. This would have been far easier to bear if she was the first death in some time and not another casualty to add to their growing list.

Cedarheart swallowed, closing his eyes against the wave of exhaustion that dragged at his shoulders, and kept walking. The river wasn't responsible for Lakepaw's death and more than it was responsible for Pondpaw's. It ebbed and flowed with changing seasons and weather, winding itself through the dykes and grasslands like a glorious silver serpent. But it wasn't alive; it didn't know that the lives it had taken were precious to them. Water gave life. Water took life. He'd come to terms with that a long time ago.

He approached a stream, smooth and gentle compared to the torrents in which Lakepaw had died. It shimmered in the light, diluted as it was behind the clouds. Cedarheart tucked in his tail and sat on the bank to gaze at his reflection.

He didn't look any different than he usually did, though he could tell from the dullness to his eyes and the tension in his jaw that he was stressed. He'd once thought himself handsome. He wasn't as sure,
now. Looking down at the tom in the water, he couldn't see anything to set him apart from his Clanmates, varied as they were and so often marked in spectacular colours or patterns. He didn't even look fierce or noble, as Hollowfrost and Stonestar did. He was supposed to be the deputy of civil affairs for his Clan; a binding force that held his Clanmates together and unite them in their loyalty to each other. He was supposed to protect them. The cat he saw in the water barely looked capable of defending himself.

So many of their cats had died or abandoned their Clan in recent moons. How much of that was his doing? How much of that could have been prevented, if they'd simply had better support? Better protection? How alone did you have to feel before losing your Clan meant nothing to you? How hard would it hurt to feel like no one stood at your back? Doubt lingered in his mind like a poison. He'd been born here. He belonged here. But how long would it be before he, too, lost what little he had left?

He flattened his ears and brushed his paw roughly into the water as if to wipe away his own reflection. He stared at it, bristling with frustration and loss. As the water rippled, the colours shifted.
The rusty cinnamon of his own coat brightened and flecks of green turned to gold. His breathing quickened, head lifting to look around him. He was alone. His coat hadn't changed; and as far as he knew, neither had his eye colour. He tried to calm his racing heart, breathing deeply as he closed his eyes and pushed the hallucination from his mind. When the calm had found him again, he opened his eyes.

He froze, staring down into the lovely golden eyes of a cat lost to the river so many moons ago. And the reflection of that cat smiled back. "Cedarheart," she called him. Her eyes were rich with sympathy and her pelt glimmered like liquid sunlight against the water.

Cedarheart couldn't breathe, his answering reply strangled into a wail of grief and longing.

"I'm here, brother." Her voice was sweet as newleaf blossoms. Willowflight had always been gentle, always supportive. With so many cats new to RiverClan and so many cats gone,
would anyone even know her name? "You're not alone." And Cedarheart dropped shakily to his stomach, paws tucked away from the water's edge for fear that any contact would wash away the shining StarClan warrior who watched from the stream.

"Willowflight," he choked. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

"I know, Cedar. I know." Her paw stretched to touch the water's edge, and he he reached back. There was no warmth or pressure to answer his touch. Just the ripple of cool water as it wet his fur. Her reflection moved with the wave, but did not fade. Cedarheart didn't care to know if he was hallucinating anymore. He just lay there, taking solace in his sister's presence the way he hadn't done for moons.
Sep 30 2017, 01:16 PM
Cedarheart stretched his legs and hips, stepping out of the warriors' den and into the misty morning air. The sun was early to rise this morning, but so was he. Pale green eyes gazed out across camp and settled on the apprentice's den nearby. He knew some of his fellow warriors would be up shortly to join him, but perhaps they'd take an apprentice with them as well.

The cinnamon-furred deputy turned to look at the still-drowsy cats behind him and purred a gentle reassurance. "If any of you are feeling energetic this morning, I'm headed out to mark our outer border," he meowed calmly. "We'll take an apprentice or two, and maybe send the rest out to hunt while we have the advantage of morning mist." padding off toward the den of sleeping apprentices. Some of them were sure to be awake by now.

Any cats that stayed back from the morning patrol could be sent on a hunting patrol afterwards. StarClan bless their luck with that; the kill pile was getting a little lower than he'd like for a Clan of hungry felines. Cedarheart ducked a little, poking his face into the apprentice den and calling out a gentle "Good morning," to the apprentices still huddled in their beds of moss. "We'll need a few of you for patrols this morning."

As a few of the cats from each den slunk out to join him, they'd find him sitting neatly next to the kill pile with his tail curled around his paws. Despite the early hour, Cedarheart was alert. He'd slept early to wake for the morning's tasks.

[[ OoC: You don't have to RP the patrols if you don't want to, but I thought it would be a fun way to get characters together who wouldn't normally talk. ]]
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