(( Yus yus. The plot sounds good to me. I'll save it on my computer so we don't forget afterwards.
Also, about Ivory killing a cat from Creekclan; she will be reluctant because her choices of victims are (a) her aunt and uncle or (b) her mother and father. Which is kinda twisted. But I have been having this idea for a while now that Ivory resents Songfeather for ignoring the issue with Riverstorm. Just putting it out there. Song probably has a higher probablity of dying than the other three, but I won't say for sure that I'll have her die. Because spoiling that would be ruining the suspense xP
Then again, Rainfrost probably has an even HIGHER chance because Ivory most definitely resents her... Hmm.
So I'll have to ask, Crystal, are you willing to have Mudfur/Stormstripe/Rainfrost die or maybe risk their lives for this plot?
Oh, and as for Lion having a crush on Q, that's all fine and dandy on me, it just depends on how the characters like and interact with eachother~ But Q is a whole nine months older than Lionpaw. He's actually about as old as Riverstorm and Songfeather are. If you want, I can make him a bit younger so it's not as awkward. I'll go as low as 13 moons. Five moon difference~))
Songfeather thought she had seen enough for now, and that the fight was getting a bit too intense for simple training. As she moved to pull the two apart, her ears perked at the sound of a claw embedding itself into flesh. Her eyes widened and she quickly looked to her apprentice, it seemed as if she had blinked one moment and Icepaw was fine, and then the next she opened her eyes and she was wounded. The calico let out a mew of concern and stepped to Icepaw's side, examining the wound over her eye. It looked like a mere scratch, but blood was quickly bubbling out of it. Songfeather frowned, but kept a level head. "Let's get you to Silverheart, alright." Blinking, she remembered that the medicine cat had left not too long ago. Maybe she as back already. "Stripedpaw!" She yowled, jumping ahead toward the medicine cat den. Her daughter's head popped out of the entrance.
"What?" The calico-tabby asked with an edge of annoyance.
Songfeather didn't answer, Silverheart must be back already, there was no other reason for Stripedpaw to be in her den otherwise. "C'mon, Icepaw." She said, touching the tip of her tail to her apprentice's shoulder. "It'll be alright."
Back in the warm comfort of Silverheart's den, Bluebird was curled up next to her brother, her head resting on her paws. Her blue-gray eyes were melancholy, dull in a resigned way. Her breaths were quiet and shallow, her sides barely moving in tune with her breaths. She looked half-asleep, or maybe dead with her eyes open.
Stripedpaw looked on with sympathy, returning from the entrance. She noted how the blue-tabby barely acknowledged her absence, even if it were only for a few heartbeats.
"You should get some sleep. Silverheart'll make sure ol' Jetblack is alright." Her words of comfort when in one ear and out of the other. Bluebird breathed in a breath of herb smothered air and sighed as her only response. Stripedpaw sighed in a similar fashion.
Bluebird closed her eyes and rest her head on Jetblack's back, carefully avoiding the scar marring it. Right. It was so funny that it wasn't, that even though Jetblack should be the one feeling the most pain right now, it seemed as if Bluebird's heart was strung along with his, and she felt every single ounce of pain he did. Maybe it was because up until now, every single hit they took, they had to endure together. Both had to lose their kithood by becoming a warrior prematurely. Both had to lose the parents who had abandoned them here. Through every hardship they only had eachother to cry on, at least Bluebird thought so. And now, Jetblack has went through the pain of losing his sight.
Bluebird felt every ounce of it.
(Alright, enough angsting from Bluebird. xD She's probably the most angsty chara I've rped ever. Not even IVORY is this dramatic LOL)
Foxpaw tilted his head to the side, sending Adderpaw a look of confusement before looking back up at his mentor. "If you're so tired, why dontcha sleep, silly?" He asked, laughing and bounding away through the bushes again. "We can catch some prey all our own. Just leave it to us!" The orange tabby said confidently.
Big, tall ears twitched at the sound of paw steps crunching the snow, the movement flicking away the snow that settled atop his russet red ears. A soft growl banished the dreams inhabiting the young tom's mind, his ever returning consciousness making him aware of a familiar scent. The scent that smelled so much like a certain calico he knew, but he knew better than to think it was her. Heck, maybe it was, considering the foul stench of rotten flesh was invading his nose at the time. The pawsteps stopped, a frigid silence stilling the air. The somali cat stayed rigid as if he were still asleep, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. Seeing wasn't an option, he chose to act asleep to avoid confrontation with the blue-tabby brute. Smelling was useless considering the stench, so he had to figure this out by hearing. Why was Riverstorm here?
The sound of a body colliding with the snowdusted ground, dangerously close to the tom, answered his questions. Another prisoner, he supposed. This clan, from what he had gathered, was not the friendliest. The sound of Riverstorm's heavy pawsteps faded away.
As soon as the 'blue striped brute' as the somali had opted to call him, was out of earshot, a pair of bright eyes slid open from a corner of the rothole. Those eyes were a pale, wide, and inquisitive green. He raised his head off of his paws, his bushy tail thumping the ground once as a way of alerting the other cat to his presence. The tom looked toward the she-cat, who had a mane golden fur, puffy and regal like that of a lion. His pupils dilated and adjusted to the light to get a better look at this cat.
"My, my." He muttered, a smirk pulling at the corners of his maw, "It's not often I see such an embodiment of beauty." The tom pulled himself off the ground and rested himself in a sitting position, inclining his head in what seemed to be a bow of respect. "Ah, pardon my slip of tongue... I am Quintessential. Which is a mouthful, I presume, so please call me Q." Q raised his head, the smirk now evidently playing on his maw. "And what has such a regal she-cat like yourself done to get herself in this hellhole?"
Ivorythorn pulled herself out of the plethora of daunting questions and finally addressed the situation, "I see, so you want me to frame a Creekclan cat of killing another?" She summarized the mission, examining the fish that Lionpaw had brought, sliding it over to her with her paw. "Alright, Sin. I won't disappoint you."
The only question is, who to frame and who to kill? I'll have to be careful, if Creekclan smells Stormclan on the fish it will spell disaster. Then again, it will also have Lionpaw's scent on it. I'll either have to conceal those scents or frame...
Bluebird or Jetblack. I'm fairly sure Sin wouldn't mind as long as it got the job done, but that's not the point... She wants to kill two birds with one stone, but not one of her own. That would be insanity... She began to think of her choices of victims. Her own family, no less, but... She never really got attached to them. Despite feeling hollow inside at the thought, she could admit that if any of the four died, she wouldn't feel remorse. Ivorythorn might have even been happy. Yes... I... Want to make them suffer like I have, like how Stormclan is suffering. She quickly ruled out Stormstripe and Mudfur, they were the least of her concerns right now. Ivorythorn looked up at the turkish vann, "This is still a plan of vengeance. If I took the easy way out and offed Mudfur and Stormstripe..." Then it won't be worth it. "You want me to kill or frame Rainfrost or Songfeather?" Rainfrost, mother, definitely makes sense. Songfeather, too, because she might prove to be a nuisance if she manages to corrupt Riverstorm or Jetblack or Bluebird. Hmm. I think I'm beginning to get the picture. "Sin..." The silver-tabby nodded, "I understand."
