the still of the morning [open]

[{Seal}]

Silence. Silence reigned on the coastal plain as darkness stubbornly clung to the sky, fighting back the impending sunrise. Silence stretched over the flat, open land; it settled upon the tall grass and slew of winding streams; it wrapped about the tall, skinny form, filling his ears and refreshing his senses.

Sprucestar stood as he always stood; tall, head up, ears pricked, tail curled high over his back. Slow, easy breaths issued from his lungs; his ribs showed with every breath. Light green eyes closed, and remained closed, for as long as the silence lasted.

Far in the distance, a bird twittered. Followed by another. And another. Within moments, the silence was shattered by a chorus of birdsong. As if on cue, a light breeze picked up, shifting the tall, green grass to create a cascade of rustling around the light brown leader. The streams, as if suddenly released from a dam, gurgled and chuckled over the riverbeds. Sprucestar's ears twitched in each direction, taking in the sounds of his home, and slowly, very slowly, he opened his eyes to find the rising sun bathing the world in scarlet.

Now was his chance, the only of the day, to let loose. His tail-tip twitched as he thought about this--normally, he wold be off across the field without a moment to spare. He would be chasing after those singing birds, zigzagging towards rabbits, with no real intention of catching any of them. Away from the camp, away from the eyes of his Clanmates, he could be that cat. And he often was that cat. But not today. It couldn't be today.

When had tensions between WaveClan and GrassClan ever been good? Never. Not really. There were times of ceasefire, of course, but never of true peace. The tension was a problem deeply rooted in the history of the two Clans. It was not something a new leader should have to deal with...and yet Sunstar had died, and it fell to him. Sprucestar. The tom's ears twitched at the suffix, and he released a soft sigh.

"Good StarClan, what am I to do?" he questioned the red, red sun, his voice just another whisper among the breeze. In an hour, maybe less, he would have to return to camp. He would have to put on a face that said "I know what I am doing. Trust me. Fight for me. We can do it." It would be easy; it was a facade he was very good at, one that was often no facade at all, but the plain truth. But for now, for just a moment, he could voice his fear; speak his worry. "Sunstar, you should not have died."

Solitude was coming to a close. The soft patter of pawsteps, muted by the tall grass, and the unmistakable scent of GrassClan drifted into Sprucestar's consciousness on the cool spring breeze, and he released a very quiet sigh. Personal time was over.

Word Count: 491
Muse: Pretty good
Tags: open!
Comments: Geeze, someone make a GrassClan cat and respond. I keep adding to this post and changing the word count!

[/size]

[kitty]

It was strange how a cat who enjoyed spending so much time in the company of others could also enjoy some time off on her own. Usually this was in the morning when all sane cats were still sleeping; at that time, the time before dawn when all was dark, the light brown tabby had to make do with solitude. Thrushwing couldn't do anything about being an early riser, after all. Listening to the predawn birdsong, the rushing of streams, the wind rustling the grass, the occasional sound of a rabbit or other prey running through the grass, was peaceful and relaxing. Any stress could melt away, and it was perfect for thinking.

Of course, Thrushwing could only sit still for so long. She was a cat that enjoyed activity, after all. After quite a bit of sitting around and relaxing, the sun finally peeped over the horizon. At last. Despite being one of the older warriors in the Clan, the she-cat was not at all fond of running, or hunting, in the dark; the darkness itself was not her phobia, but instead it was what could be lurking out there amidst the blackness of night. Sometimes, Thrushwing would wish she had been born into BrushClan; then she wouldn't have to worry about the unknown with her ability to see creatures in the dark.

But she was a GrassClan cat, and she was very proud of this. In the end, she loved being able to run freely and stretch and chase rabbits most of all. What would she do without her beloved meadows? If she were a slow BrushClan cat (in comparison to the GrassClan cats, that is), she wouldn't be able to catch the prey that the moors provided. A life without chasing rabbits and running wasn't much of a life, in Thrushwing's opinion.

And so, the moment the sun peeped over the meadows in the distance, bathing everything it could reach in orange, Thrushwing stretched herself out. Patrolling didn't sound interesting today - the borders had been so dull and boring as of late - so the she-cat took it upon herself to feed the Clan. An early morning run combined with catching a couple rabbits would be the perfect way to start her day. And by the time she returned, other cats would be awake, and she would have someone to chat with! This was her ritual for most mornings; rise early and run and hunt, return to camp and chat and perhaps find someone (a tom, preferably) to share one of her freshly caught rabbits with. If she was needed again later for anything, so be it.

If one were to look at the warrior running across the meadows, as if she hadn't a care in the world, they may have thought she was an apprentice or a young warrior. She stretched her muscles for a bit, reveling in the feel of the grass brushing against her and the rising sun warming her her fur, before she began to search for the scent of a rabbit. It didn't take long to find one; it seemed that some rabbits at least were as eager to start their days as Thrushwing was, and it wasn't too much time later before she had one of the furry brown animals in her sights. After a brief chase across the land, Thrushwing ensnared her prey, and opted to carry it along with her instead of burying it and coming back to retrieve it later. It would be much less of a hassle this way.

This was how, not too much time later, she was stalking through the grass, the scent of rabbit in her nostrils, without noticing the smell of a certain tomcat close by. In fact, she didn't even scent him until she was almost on top of him. She recognized the smell, however, and her paws carried her the final few steps before she was standing in a small open space, where Sprucestar seemed to have made his nest last night.

She placed the rabbit on the ground and dipped her head by way of respectful greeting; she may be a flirt, but she knew when to behave. Plus, Sprucestar was a more no-nonsense kind of cat. He was the leader, for crying out loud! It was best to be on his good side.

"Good morning, Sprucestar," she meowed cheerily. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I didn't even smell you through the rabbit."

word count:[/color] 758
muse:[/color] pretty good
comments:[/color] I figured you'd want someone to roleplay with...sorry about the length. The first...well, pretty much every paragraph was just my mind's random ramblings. v_v I don't know how well Thrushwing and Sprucestar are going to get along, but ah well, we'll find out. ;;[/i][/size]

[{Seal}]

The soft pattering paused for a moment as Sprucestar clung on to his last few seconds of peace. Tall ears twitched to the side as the pawsteps returned, now gradually growing louder. It appears I have been discovered, he thought, twitching his whiskers slightly as he took a small sniff of the air. Thrushwing. Of course; she was as early a riser as he.

Sprucestar turned as the thin brown tabby emerged from the tall grass with a tawny rabbit in her jaws. "Greetings," he murmured formally, nodding his head slightly in recognition of her greeting. Although her chipper tone was grating on his nerves (by no fault of her own, of course), Sprucestar realized there were worse cats to speak to so early in the morning; although he could not relate to her love of talking (or love of flirting, for that matter), there was much about them that was the same. They might have been siblings in another life.

Shifting gears was proving difficult this morning. The tip of his long tail twitched ever so slightly as he struggled inwardly to move away from his melancholy thoughts of the future and draw his attention back to the present. Silence stretched out, although he was not uncomfortable with it, as he repeated in his head, Hunting. Patrols. Apprentices. Hunting. Patrols. Apprentices. It was a technique Sunstar had taught him during one of the few moments he (Sprucetail and a deputy at the time) had opened up about his confusion about what patrols to send out when. Hunting came first--the Clan had to be fed. Border patrols came afterward--the Clan had to be protected. And, finally, the apprentices came next--the Clan needed a future.

Whenever the future presses down upon you like the heat of a coming storm, and you can no longer discern in what order to act, remember your priorities. To survive, we must eat. To thrive, we must have territory. And to grow, we must have new warriors, Sunstar's words echoed in his head, and Sprucestar's eyes flicked briefly to the heavens as he thanked the former leader.

This morning was simply not going according to plan, however. As he had not had his free-spirited, unwatched sprint across the open meadows for thinking of WaveClan, so now he did not turn to Thrushwing and say, "If you would return to camp with me, I would send you out with a hunting patrol." Instead, he turned back to face the lightening sky, tail curled high over his head, and mewed without looking at Thrushwing, "WaveClan scent has crossed the border. Again."

He didn't ask for advice--Sprucestar was far too proud for that. He did not ask if she had noticed, or if any members of the Clan had been speaking of it, because he knew they had. But Thrushwing had been an apprentice before he was born; she had become a warrior half a year before him. Sprucestar was proud, but he was not stupid; the opinions of an older cat, even if only a few moons older, were well worth hearing, though from past experiences he knew that his and Thrushwing's opinions tended to clash. Perhaps they were a bit too much alike. It was just as well she was out of the Nursery by the time he arrived; they would have butted heads more often than not.

Word Count; 561
Muse; pretty good
Notes; Yay, thank you for posting! And I hope you're up for a serious time--I'm not sure I could get Sprucestar to think about anything but WaveClan right now ^.^

[kitty]

Thrushwing settled in, taking Sprucestar's greeting as an invitation. Sprucestar was a serious, thoughtful character; all the same, she welcomed the chance to be in the company of another cat. She didn't plan on trying to flirt with the Clan leader, anyway; she wasn't a mousebrain, and planned to stay on the leader's good side despite being his elder. He didn't take much to flirting, and had never been interested in taking a mate, it seemed. (That was one place in which they were alike, but Thrushwing actually did like to flirt.)

Tail curled around her paws, Thrushwing sat erect watching the sun rise, Sprucestar at her side. The silence grew longer; it was a good thing Thrushwing was much less chatty and Thrushwing-like in the morning, or she would have lost interest quite some time ago. But for the moment, she was content to sit in comfortable, thought-filled silence, save for the birdsong around them, with a well-respected tomcat at her side. (What could she say; she was Thrushwing, after all, and inclined to like toms even if they had no interest in her whatsoever. It was just the way she was.)

Despite the silence, which probably lasted quite some time, it didn't seem like long before Sprucestar spoke again, in his quiet way. Thrushwing had expected some instruction, perhaps an order to gather up a hunting patrol or something of the like, but instead Sprucestar said, "WaveClan scent has crossed the border. Again."

[/b]

So that was what was on her leader's mind, Thrushwing thought. She knew he must be contemplating something - it wasn't like she was so unobservant that she did not notice the thoughtful look on his face. Finally he had spoken out on what was bothering him, and Thrushwing wasn't going to miss the chance to give him her opinion. He was obviously looking for advice from a cat who was more experienced that him - okay, maybe it wasn't quite so obvious - but there was no way Sprucestar would ever actually admit to that. Sprucestar was proud; he wasn't going to come straight out and say "Hey, Thrushwing, I need your advice on something!"

However, Sprucestar had only confirmed her suspicions. Despite thinking border patrols were one of the more tedious tasks of being a warrior, the she-cat knew that they were essential. Without border patrols, these things would happen much more frequently. She had heard a couple of cats talking about picking up traces of WaveClan on the GrassClan side of the border; at the time, she had simply brushed it off, but if Sprucestar was worried enough about it to indirectly ask her opinion, she was going to give it. Tensions with WaveClan were still high, Thrushwing knew. Not so high as to start a battle yet, she was pretty certain, but it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

"Ah, I thought there was something on your mind," she meowed. "I'm not surprised; we haven't exactly been on the greatest terms with WaveClan as of late. Stepping up the patrols on that border might not be a bad idea." There - now she was giving him advice without actually saying that she was giving him advice. Thrushwing had no intention of flirting with Sprucestar, but it was in her nature to stay on toms' good sides. She wasn't trying to accomplish anything by saying this, because in all honesty she was worried about the incident, too. If it was enough to worry the leader, it was enough to worry her. [/blockquote]

word count: 607
muse:[/b] good
comments: [/b] Good thing he caught her in the morning; she's a lot more tame then.[/i][/size]

[{Seal}]

The chill of the night was slowly being swept away by the bright newleaf sun. An absent shiver spread across Sprucestar's lanky body, skin rippling beneath the short tan fur, and it wasn't until that moment that he realized how cold he had been. Leafbare had not yet lost its clawhold upon the moorland nights, and the warmth felt good resting on his fur. On days like these, it did not bother Sprucestar to be out in the sunlight; it was not until the oppressive heat of greenleaf came that he clung almost exclusively to nocturnal habits. It baffled his Clan, he knew, but there were some things in the world he could not sacrifice.

A less wise warrior would not have heard the question in Sprucestar's voice. A foolish warrior would have expressed their opinion openly and boldly, as if they were doing their leader a favor (which they were, but Sprucestar did not see it that way). Thrushwing was neither unwise nor foolish, and for that Sprucestar was thankful.

Tawny ears swiveled in the senior warrior's direction, the only outward indication that he was listening; light green eyes followed the fluttering movements of a prairie pheasant far in the distance as the tip of his tail twitched vaguely. However, the within the confines of Sprucestar's mind, beyond the facade, he was focused entirely upon Thrushwing's words.

I am losing my touch if she already knew there was something bothering me, he thought, twitching his whiskers slightly at the idea. It is a good thing the rest of the Clan is not as observant as she.

More border patrols. Of course. One step at a time. To thrive, we must have territory. Remember your priorities.

[/b] Sunstar's words flickered in his memory, and Sprucestar nodded his head sharply and swiftly. Yes, Sunstar and Thrushwing were right. Newleaf had just begun, and there would be plenty of prey for moons to come. The next priority was territory, and patrols were the only answers for the time being. The day would come when GrassClan and WaveClan would clash again--of this he was almost certain. Relations between the two had never been good, and mostly likely never would be. But the time to worry about that was not now; for now, the focus should be on doing their best to avoid another border skirmish.

The rest of the Clan would be awakening by now, if they had not already, but Sprucestar felt no urgency to return to the camp. The dawn patrol was set, his warriors knew the first order of the day was to replenish the freshkill pile, and he had faith in his deputy. Since he and Thrushwing were already up and about, what was to keep them from evaluating the border with WaveClan?

For the first time since they had begun to speak, Sprucestar turned to face Thrushwing. He did not realize how long he had let the silence stretch as he said, "Since we are already up, we will be the first patrol. Let's head over to the WaveClan border." He glanced down at her rabbit and added, "You can bury it here or we can eat it before we go." His stomach rumbled very quietly; he had not eaten anything since the afternoon before. Like all GrassClan cats, it was dangerous for them to skip a meal; they had little energy reserves to fall back on.

We have to be sure WaveClan scent continues to linger over our border. This way, I can tell the Clan something concrete and they will have something concrete to tell any WaveClan patrol they meet, he thought. If there is a battle skirmish, I will not have GrassClan looking the fool.[/blockquote]

Word Count; 619
Muse; eh, okay
Comments; sorry, I didn't know what else to do but have them go on patrol I wish there were more WaveClan cats, because then we could meet some.[/blockquote][/size]

[kitty]

The sun steadily rose in the sky, slowly warming the meadows of GrassClan's territory as it climbed. A slight breeze was blowing. It felt good in Thrushwing's fur, ruffling it as it blew through her pelt. This was one of the better days of life in GrassClan; today the sun was shining, it was a nice, cool temperature - the wind kept it cooler, and it wasn't quite close enough to greenleaf to be extremely hot yet. It was much more Thrushwing's style than freezing leafbare or scorching greenleaf. Newleaf and leaf-fall were definitely the most preferred out of the seasons, in Thrushwing's case.

As the silence again stretched out - Thrushwing had known that Sprucestar was a quiet, thoughtful cat, but she had thought that he wouldn't spend quite so much time thinking when he had a cat to converse with, despite knowing him since kithood - the lithe she-cat began to wonder if perhaps Sprucestar just wanted to be alone. He might need some time to ponder the WaveClan incident. She wondered if he even heard her advice; if so, he didn't do much, if anything, to acknowledge it. She wasn't going to repeat herself, though. That would wound her pride if he ended up actually hearing what she'd said - which he probably did. He was probably just poring it over in his mind; that had to be it.

Even so, Thrushwing was just about to stand and take her leave when Sprucestar spoke again, confirming that he had indeed heard her suggestion but also - unfortunately - announcing that she and Sprucestar himself would make up the first of the extra borders patrols. Mousedung; she'd hoped to avoid going out on border patrol today! Just because extra patrols were needed didn't mean she wanted to be on one! But, repressing a sigh, she gave her consent.

"Why don't we just eat it?" she asked, glancing at her newly caught rabbit. It should still be warm...her stomach rumbled at the thought. She hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, and, like all GrassClan cats, she needed to eat on a regular basis. She didn't exactly have much in the way of body fat stored up on her body to prevent her from growing hungry easily, and GrassClan cats burned off their fresh-kill quickly, patrolling the borders and chasing after the speedy meadowland prey. The thought of waiting until they returned to camp didn't appeal to the she-cat. "I planned on eating after I got back to camp, anyway," she admitted. "Don't wanna wear myself out on patrol. I might not last long enough to make it back."

Ah...she would be sharing prey with the leader (who happened to be a tom, even. Sharing prey with toms was something Thrushwing enjoyed doing.). What an honor!

word count: 481
muse: blah.
comments:[/color] omygod I'm sorry, that was probably horribly. My muse is shot. Patrol sounds good, though 83[/i][/size]

[{Seal}]

Relief flickered briefly across Sprucestar's eyes as Thrushwing suggested eating the rabbit. Had she suggested simply burying it and coming back later, the following few hours would have been miserable--not so much because he was hungry, but because he would be embarrassed to allow her to hear his stomach grumbling as much as it would.

Time was getting on, and they needed to move on to their destination as soon as possible if they were going to hit the border first and get back in time to let the sunhigh patrol know what was going on there. Sprucestar lowered his head and took a bite of the large rabbit, tail-tip twitching in pleasure as the rich, earthy taste flooded his senses. He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed slowly before taking a step back to let Thrushwing take a bite. His stomach, now that it realized food was at hand, grumbled all the louder for it.

This was an odd experience for the serious tom, sitting beside a Clanmate and sharing prey. Even before he became leader Sprucestar was not one for sharing tongues or freshkill, and he preferred to eat alone, with Larchwind, or (more recently), with Birchstripe. He wasn't sure what one was supposed to do when sharing prey, so he settled down and said nothing, light green eyes shifting slowly from the rabbit, to the tall, green grass, and back to Thrushwing.

Word count; 235
Muse; blah
Comments; sorry, this was a short one. I expect yours shall be, too--there's not much to be said until we make it to the border ^.^

[kitty]

Sprucestar seemed to be waiting for her to take the first bite of the rabbit; he was just sitting there and glancing from the rabbit to Thrushwing, then back to the rabbit. Briefly Thrushwing considered the fact that he may not be used to sharing prey with a Clanmate, but she pushed that thought away. He was the Clan leader; of course he shared prey with his Clanmates. Every cat did. Certainly the leader was no exception. Obviously he was just being polite and letting the she-cat take the first bite, as toms should.

Feeling rather flattered, Thrushwing bent down and took a bite of the rabbit, enjoying the warm taste in her mouth. Fresh prey was the best; that icky cold stuff left out all night in camp that was left for the cats as breakfast was, in Thrushwing's opinion, revolting. That was another reason she always went hunting in the morning; not only did she not like patolling, but she shuddered at the thought of cold fresh-kill.

She swallowed and glanced at Sprucestar, waiting for him to take a bite. "Go on, take a bite," she said after a moment. "Haven't you shared prey before? I can't eat all this rabbit on my own, you know!"

Word count:[/color] 216
Muse: pretty bad.
Comments: Short, sorry. Also, sorry for replying so late; I've been really stressed since my mom and sister's car accident last Friday and we've been really busy. My muse is kinda shriveled up. :/ [/size][/i]

[{Seal}]

The two tall, hungry GrassClanners made quick work of the rabbit. In fact, even once the freshkill was reduced to mere bones on the ground, Sprucestar felt he could have had several more bites and still not been satisfied. But, alas, that was the way life went for GrassClanners--terrific speed and long bodies came with the price of huge appetites and great consequences if those appetites were not filled. But enough time had been spent eating, and they could truly fill their bellies later. Sprucestar scraped some loose soil over the remaining rabbit bones and struck off for the Sandstrip, twitching his tail-tip briefly in a sign for Thrushwing to follow.

Even at a walking pace, the GrassClan warriors' strides ate up the ground like no other cats' could. The pace, however, was not quite swift enough for Sprucestar's taste; the rising sun was already becoming uncomfortably hot, and he wanted to get the patrol done with and back to camp as quickly as possible. Finally he turned toward Thrushwing and mewed, "Let's have a bit of a run." Without waiting for her to respond, the long-limbed leader tensed his muscles and shot forward, the hard pads on his paws gripping the ground and thrusting his body forward at a faster and faster speed. Within seconds he was running full-speed through the tall, green grass of the Coastal Plain.

At that moment, a rare thing happened; Sprucestar's eyes lit with kit-like excitement and wonder. For a brief moment he forgot that he was not alone in the middle of the night, out for one of his free-spirited romps. He forgot the bright sun high above and the watchful eyes of a Clanmate. The serious, overly-formal leader thrust his tail out to the side, sending himself into a dodge to the left. He whipped his tail back the other way and dodged to the right. Back and forth, back and forth he dodged about the grassy plains, as he normally only did at moonhigh. Rabbits fled before him as he chased one after the other, never caring to complete the attack; instead of pouncing upon them and ending their lives, he leaped high over their heads and outpaced them, eyes sparkling with mischief. It was not until he felt the shifty, light sand beneath his paws and smelled the salty breeze of WaveClan's border that he remembered himself.

Mortified, Sprucestar skidded to a halt several fox-lengths from what he assumed was the border. Heart pounding and chest heaving, he took a few moments to regain his breath. The kitlike look slowly drained from his face, and within a minute the tall, tawny cat was once again the formal, quiet leader of GrassClan. He turned toward Thrushwing, his face decidedly expressionless as he attempted to act as if he had not just pranced about like a kit, and mewed, "Let's hope we don't find any WaveClan scents on our side. You check that way," he flicked his tail to one side of the border, "and I'll check this way." At that, he gave her a brief, serious nod before padding slowly along the border, using the old scent marks as his guide.

Word Count; 530
Muse; pretty good
Comments; let's find a few scents over the border, but nothing huge yet. The next WaveClan patrol can find GrassClan scent on their side, too.