~On Her Way~

[Thistlestar]

[shadow=black,left,300]A pair of silver eyes peered silently out from the shadows beneath a large bush. The well-built, brown she-cat emerged slowly as she looked around. Her brow wrinkled as she gazed at the empty clearing that was FourTrees. At first she only noticed how empty and alien it was, but as she looked around, she noticed the blood. There had been a battle here! She wrinkled her nose as the old scent of blood, rotting flesh, and death met her nose. Thistlestar closed her eyes and quickly prayed to Starclan before venturing closer. She stopped. Wait a second...I smell rotting flesh, but there are no bodies... She stopped. The once holy FourTrees was slowly becoming more and more foreboding, and dark as she stood there. Thistlestar turned back toward MotherMouth. She had to go and speak with StarClan. She needed to know what was going on! Thistlestar was about five or six tail lengths away from the edge of the clearing when a voice stopped her in her tracks.
[/shadow]

[Daystar]

(I believe you wanted the voice that stopped her to be that of Daystar? If not, I'll fix this.)

[glow=gray,2,300]Daystar flicked his banded tail, feeling strangely uneasy as he reached FourTrees. He’d been following his fellow leader’s scent, (not that he needed it to find the way) and now was still several fox-lengths away from her. A dark-pelted figure in the distance was all he could recognize of her, for the moment. The tomcat’s quiet musings as to the whereabouts of his surviving Clan members were interrupted instantly and violently by the scent of blood on the wind.

What in the name of StarClan? He hissed, hackles rising instinctively. Swiftly Daystar’s pale eyes raked the clearing, which now seemed desolate and pained in the light of this situation. No bodies littered the ground or lay motionless among the stones. To all outside appearance, it was as if nothing had ever occurred here. Except that the brindled male could still taste death lingering in the air.

He put on a nice burst of speed, padded paws carrying him silently to where the dark she-cat was trotting forward. About four cat-lengths from her, Daystar called out: Thistlestar? He asked, his eyes still filled with the urgency called on by the acrid and very palpable aroma of blood in the air. Mind if I…join you? Warily he looked back over one shoulder. Given the circumstances, I for one would be glad of the company. With that, the tawny feline fell easily into step with her.
[/glow]

[Thistlestar]

[shadow=black,left,300]Thistlestar smiled, nodding. She rubbed against his cheek.

"I would be more than happy if I had someone else watching my back."

Quickly she glanced back.

"I want to know what happened, though I dare not question anyone. Hurry, I wish to get away from here."

She quickened her pace, her soft darkened pads falling on the grass in silence. Her eyes were slightly misted over. She hated the scent, as most cats did. She shook the scent from her nose as she lept over a small clump of thistles as she entered the saftey of the forest.[/shadow]

[Daystar]

[glow=gray,2,300]His whiskers meshed against the fur of her cheek, and Daystar grew calmer as the reassuring scent of the brindled tom’s friend filled his nostrils. Then watch it I shall, the other cat purred, pulling away as his glowing orbs focused now on the path ahead of them. His torn ear flicked back, following her gaze. StarClan will provide the answers we seek, if they are willing.

With a sigh of discontent the older male kept pace with her, bounding ahead every now and then to check the surrounding countryside for the presence of possible rogues or other unseen foes. Moving with the grace bequeathed to his species alone, Daystar tried to stay focused on the task beyond.

But the words of StarClan hung hazy in his mind, and the bitter aroma of blood and death flatly refused to expel itself from his nostrils, making the tomcat edgy. Now he sought only the remote peace brought on by Mouthmouth and the glittering stone held within it.[/glow]

[Thistlestar]

[shadow=black,left,300]Thistlestar purred as she walked along with Daystar. She was glad she met up with him, or rather he with her. Either way, she didn't care.

But the vision of the blood stained rocks at Fourtrees...the image loomed at the back of her mind.

((Eek! Sorry, short postie! ))[/shadow]

[Daystar]

Poor Daystar...

[glow=gray,2,300]Daystar, preoccupied as he was, thought they made good time. Swiftly they were reaching the midpoint of the woodlands. He had not been this way in a long time, and though the tomcat recalled the trail, he still looked occasionally to where Thistlestar placed her paws, and how her body shifted minutely to the left and right accordingly. His golden eyes shifted in the growing darkness.

What lies ahead? Daystar asked of his companion. In truth, the brindled male did not feel foolish. Though he had been a leader for longer than Thistlestar, he was more into his Clan and its success than the holy powers of StarClan.

He had only been to Mothermouth twice in his life – once to receive his lives, and once on the outset of the pestilence. One ear flicked back as he considered that night by the glittering stone. All he had seen came true…to be in possession of such knowledge was amazing, and frightening, too. So truthfully Daystar tried rather hard to stay out of the way of his ancestors.

He prayed as much as any cat, and his dreams were populated with the muzzles of the ancient, but still…there was always a part of him he held back. Was that what made them leave him? Had his lack of faith decimated his Clan? Hurtful as these thoughts were, he dwelled on them heavily as his steps matched that of his friend’s.
[/glow]

[Thistlestar]

[shadow=black,left,300]The brindled she-cat glanced at her friend as she lengthened her stride. They were drawing nearer, and she could feel her heart racing and her blood flowing through her veins.

“I don’t know Daystar. I hope peace from this dreaded plague.”

She wrinkled her nose as she thought of the stench, and her friends and clan mates as they died before her. She looked down. It all seemed like a dream. Thistlestar pondered a lot as they made their way toward MotherMouth and the glittering stone. When she finally spoke to Daystar, she sounded distant and soft.

“Why? Why Daystar? Why us? Why were we the only ones to survive?”

She looked at him with clear eyes, her brow furrowed. She couldn’t help but voice what had been eating at her for the last few moons.[/shadow]

[Daystar]

[glow=gray,2,300]His own heart raced as they grew closer, and the flow of his blood seemed mingled with the beckoning cries of his ancestors. As Thistlestar spoke, the LightClan leader inclined his head toward her, offering an alert, concerned façade for her to be comforted by. Peace…now, there is too much of it. I would give anything for the mewls of a scrabbling kit, or a petty dispute between warriors. His pale eyes darkened to a bitter, ruddy hue.

Now I have nothing…nothing but shadows and the wind in my ears, telling me all the ways I have failed. With a toss of his head Daystar tried to end the subject, his gaze moving away from the limber femme.

As her voice rose again in tones clear and somber enough to fight the wind, the tomcat did against turn to face his counterpart. He would not shame either himself or her by hiding his gaze, but the brindled male found it hard to keep his golden stare from wavering as Thistlestar let fly the question that had lain on his mind and in his heart like a pebble, heavy and impossible to ignore. His own answer was far from soothing, he thought.

Only StarClan knows, he murmured, his pupils lifting to the sky. They lowered just as swiftly though, with silent, thoughtful anger in them. But I suppose it has something to do with our status. Nine lives are hard to decimate, so we survived. Daystar sighed. You know, I would have given them all to save my Clan. His eyes told the she-cat that he knew she felt the same way. Another idea entered his gray matter, and it was spoken with clarity – grim clarity. Perhaps we lived because of a task that has been set aside for us. Only we can complete it.

He grew silent again as the path narrowed, moving off to the side, his flanks pressing against some brambles. Daystar ignored the prickling pains, his mind on deeper things. Why not let a few more live? He beseeched his ancestors, grief reining his speech. Why must only the high in rank, the failed, survive to do your bidding? So many more were worthy… He hoped to the highest stars that these questions would be answered tonight.
[/glow]

[Thistlestar]

[shadow=black,left,300]Thistlestar shook her head, her face still so desperate for answers. She turned from Daystar and continued to walk.

“I just want to get there as soon a possible...”

She looked up at the darkened sky.

“We should be there soon, it’s getting late.”

(Blah...short... )[/shadow]

[Daystar]

[glow=gray,2,300]Daystar nodded. He peered up the fern-edged path, the familiar shape of Mothermouth greeting his pale eyes. May StarClan lend speed to our paws, he murmured, leaping forward a few paces and pausing only to look over his tawny shoulder at the she-cat. We are close…so let us be about our task, before the moon sets. He then lifted one forepaw readily, awaiting her reply.

The cavern was only a short distance away now…strange, how their conversation had made the steps to Mothermouth while away so quickly. But the brindled tom was suddenly grateful. Soon it would be over. Soon the questions in their longing eyes would fade into peace.[/glow]

[Thistlestar]

[shadow=black,left,300]Thistlestar didn't hear Daystar's last words. She had forgotten who she would see when she spoke with Starclan. She had forgotten who would be within their ranks.

"Rainclaw..."

She spoke softly shecould barley hear herself. Thistlestar's pace quickened as she came to the entrance of the cave, but she stopped. She glanced back at Daystar. She was a young warrior and had not been to Mothermouth many times. She waited for Daystar to join her. She cocked her head to one side.

"Can we both speak with them at the same time?"[/shadow]

[Daystar]

[glow=gray,2,300]Daystar sped up, flanking her now alongside the entrance to the cavern. Warily the warrior trained his eyes on the gaping mouth of their final destination, stifling a deep breath of uncertainly. StarClan would not appreciate his fear…but, just as it threatened to claw its way into his heart, the anxiety dissipated, replaced instead by the calm reverence that often characterized meetings with the spirits of one’s ancestors.

The same time? He murmured, his tone thoughtful. If this is what StarClan calls for, then it will be done… The tomcat paused, his eyes following the gentle downward slope of the entryway. Shall we? Daystar asked of her, lifting one paw to sweep away a bit of the evening’s mist from their path.
[/glow]

[Flyingmoon]

A third cat watched the two leaders. His honey-colored eyes followed them, but they were out of earshot to him. He was red, a pure, fire red, save for a crescent shaped, white birthmark in the middle of his forehead. The stench of death tainted the air, but he recognized them from somewhere- Fourtrees maybe. The lean, handsome tom emerged from the thicket and followed them. The wind was with him- they had not scented him, and the mist obscured their vision and his. One was tawny, the other brown. He continued to track them through the weather. Flyingmoon was angry, and terribly sad, at the same time. Why was I the only one? he asked himself, over and over, wishing he could have saved his Clan.

Flyingmoon was a warrior, and had fought in many battles, despite his young age, barely 24 moons old. Three scars lacerated the left side of his face, narrowly missing one of his amber eyes, where an old rival, who died from a claw to the neck shortly after giving Flyingmoon the scar. He was not afraid of killing, or of dying, but he did fear an enemy that can't be fought - sickness. He had watched his sister, his leader, his Clan, die, strong cats waste away, when they had survived a hundred battles. Since his clan went extinct, he had resigned himself to life as a rogue, until he had seen the two cats.

He couldn't follow the cats to their destination- he would have to make contact faster. Their scents were distinct- Thistlestar and Daystar! Two clan leaders. He had heard of them, but never talked to them face-to-face. The crimson tom sped up to a trot, then a canter, his long strides easily covering the ground. He caught up with them, and nodded deferentially to each of the Clan leaders. "Thistlestar! Daystar!" he said, breathing easily despite his run. "My name is Flyingmoon, and I was once a warrior from WindClan."

[Flyingmoon]

^{Sorry, a bit of a messup here... :-/The message is on the next one}

[Daystar]

It's alright. Just remember to log in before each post. And yours was a great one, by the way. *misses the way you write* Did Kristin tell you the changes we made to the Clans? How they are supposed to be ThunderClan and RiverClan, instead of the ones we made up? Now I have to edit all my posts...*growls*