longs to be INSPIRED. [gypsy]

[Silvaah.]

Time is running out
and I just wanna say I'm sorry now;
Before I'm all alone again.

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Tiny collisions with the surface of the river made the rain seem like it had full control over the landscape. Clustered droplets cascaded from the sky, almost as if they were leaping from the clouds with an immeasurable joy, and found themselves falling into the icy depths of the rushing stream of water. The half-metre apart steppingstones that RiverClan felines scarcely used were completely sleek, hardly a foothold for a water vole that may have needed to cross the river undamaged. This would only add to the erosion taking place at the bed of the riverbanks where pebbles were already tumbling from insignificant ledges and merging with the water, leaving not so much as a flicker of a splash amongst the sound of the falling rain.


Jaws parting to hopelessly the taste the dank air, Breezesoul found her, and her already dense coat, becoming drenched with the falling liquid. She had left the sheltered glade of the RiverClan camp to practice her fishing skills. Being a fairly new recruit, the she-cat had little experience with her adopted Clan’s way of hunting—almost as little as she did with the water itself. She obviously hadn’t anticipated the sudden change of weather. It was hard not to spot the hesitance in her wavering amber gaze, even though the feline had an almost characteristic habit of hiding her undesired emotions. The rain’s just gonna make it harder to spot fish, she thought, unable to deny her hope of that theory being true, I think. Don’t they hide in the reeds or something when the weather’s bad? No, of course not. They lived in the water—more of it would help rather than hurt them.


Despite her wariness, Breezesoul made her way to the edge of the water with good haste, careful to avoid the sharp lapping of the waves against the grassy shore. Her pelt was completely flattened by the downpour, so the shiver than coursed down her spine went unnoticed as she stared into the blackness of the passing river. As she opened her eyes from a blink, Breezesoul thought she saw a silver flash in her peripheral. Panicking, she swiped her forepaw at the river, curving her outstretched claws in attempt to scoop out a fish from beneath. They, to her surprise, found nothing and, upon resurfacing from the river, sent a spray of mud-clogged water into her already scrunched face.


Rather than recoiling, as any common-sense-attaining cat would’ve done, Breezesoul froze as if the splash had frozen her stiffening body in that exact place, rendering her unable to then veer her paws away from an approaching wave. The water wasn’t deep, and so she wasn’t unbalanced. Just humiliated. “Damn, that... Stupid, blast!” Her words barely escaped between the dispelling throaty coughs. Clearly fishing wasn’t her calling, but she wouldn’t be much use as a River-cat if she couldn’t use their namesake properly. Perhaps ‘eenie meenie minie mo’ wasn’t a fool-proof way to pick a Clan, then. [/center][/blockquote]

[[Gypsy]]

blow the candles out
looks like a solo tonight

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The camp was constricting, now. The walls of her den loomed ever-inward and the whole institution seemed designed to drive her insane. As Stormwhisper had had some issues focusing lately, what with one thing or another, she was left thinking about the things she most wished to forget – impossible dreams and endless frustrations that plagued her mind like flies on a wound. It was, the she-cat decided, entirely unbearable and she was not going to deal with it anymore. The relative dryness and warmth of her den were not worth the walls that caged her, and with useless defiance she plunged out into the rain.

Freezing, driving, heavy rain, it was. It had warmed up just enough to rain instead of snow, but that could hardly be called an improvement. Yes, it had washed away some of the snow, but it left behind and unappealing slush and a frigid, muddy mixture on the half-thawed ground. That, in her opinion, was worse. Maybe it means an early new-leaf. Came the hopeful thought, and a trace of a smile curved across her muzzle as she plowed through the icy muck towards the river. If nothing else she could see how well the ice had broken up. And the river had been a little high when it had frozen, best to make sure the island wasn’t going to flood in this weather. Satisfied with her justifications, Stormwhisper ducked between two shocks of frosty reeds and exited camp, eyes straining through the downpour.

If was a surprise to see another cat out in this inclement weather, it was a shock to see Breezesoul. Stormwhisper, like every other cat in RiverClan, knew that Breezesoul had not always lived on the island… Or even in the forest. Which meant that her coat had not yet taken on the sleek, watershedding qualities that made RiverClan cats so at home in the water. While it was wet, Stormwhisper wasn’t miserably soaked, she was just cold. She couldn’t imagine how a cat whose pelt sucked up water ike a sponge would feel. She neared and watched the ashy she-cat bend over, studying the dimpled surface of the river, and quickly reach a paw out, unbalanced and hasty. Her swipe came up empty and left Breezesoul to face a douse of filthy water. Stormwhisper held back her amusement as she neared, and couldn’t help but hear the other cat’s tirade.

“Patience and a keen eye, Breezesoul.” Stormwhisper said with an attempt at sagacity. It came across as snark, and she made a note to work on her ‘wise medicine cat’ voice. Even if her tone was off, her advice was spot-on, and she wondered what this newcomer’s reaction would be. She didn’t know the gray cat well, and every question she’d asked had been met with a sideways, non-committal answer, which led the black-patched medicine cat to suspect no one quite knew what to think, yet. Whatever the truth was, Stormwhisper was plenty ready to find out.

[/font]

[Silvaah.]

Time is running out
and I just wanna say I'm sorry now;
Before I'm all alone again.

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[/color]

Even the river laughed. The constant rush of water seemed near haunting now; a face appeared each time a wave formed, creating the only grinning shape Breezesoul had seen in the environment. Instinct told her that perhaps she'd lost her sanity along with her warmth but, in her opinion, instinct was optional. Somewhat like the advice of your mother... er, her mother. Deciding rather quickly not to voice her insecurities to the river, for fear of convincing it that she was mad too, the ashen feline flickered her gaze elsewhere. Not that it was much use to do so, though.

Mist made it difficult to make out more than a few blobish figures stirring against the gloom, even when Breezesoul’s eyes were fully narrowed. It would’ve been almost impossible for her to expect the approach of anything else, especially since the dankness in the air merged all scents together, too. Unless the on-looker was in close proximity (and why would they be in this weather,)she would be invisible and therefore perfectly safe. Brilliant. Somehow, she could dry off before the returning to camp and no-one would ever be the wiser to this disaster.

This train of thought was still in full swing when she heard a voice from behind her. The obnoxious look that had curled up on her muzzle disappeared just as quickly as the new hope swelling inside her chest. As unlikely as it may have seemed, Breezesoul suddenly felt much colder than she had a few moments ago. Her paws seemed to be fringed with ice, causing an inability to even consider taking a step. Her thoughts scattered as soon as she realised that this cat, who’s exact identity was still unknown, would be expecting a reply... a witty one, probably.
‘Patience and a keen eye, Breezesoul.’

Each word resounded significantly in her head for a moment. What could she possibly say that would redeem whatever reputation she might’ve had prior to this accident? Finally, the she-cat allowed herself to take a glance over her shoulder at the cause of her unease. A name didn’t come to her right away, but she most certainly recognised this Clanmate to be of a certain importance. The Medicine cat. Perhaps her reply could contain a remark about how medicine cat, a rank that was most commonly depicted as that soft, overly-caring cat and not as an outstanding hunter, was giving her tips on how to fish. But that would be wrong in more ways than one. Ah well, there was no such thing as morality or immorality in thought. Plus, annoying the only cat with knowledge of herbs in the Clan would not be helpful come the next time Breezesoul was injured and needed to visit the medicine cat’s den. An excuse was what she needed, and a darn good one.

“Who can really see anything in this rain? My vision was obstructed by the mist.” Ugh. It would have to do. And then she remembered. “Stormwhisper.”

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