Post by ` r i v e r on Mar 28, 2016 23:22:27 GMT
She was dreaming. Deep under the shade of the ShadowClan, the tabby she-cat was flying. Her paws never touched the ground as she soared across her territory, feeling the wind rip through her pelt and kiss her maw. She was free, in every sense of the word, warm and alive and invigorated. Every colour was vibrant, real, tangible. She flew and flew and her heart grew at the wonder of it all. Nothing could hold her, nothing could stop her. Clan boundaries did not exist.
Aster jolted awake, olive eyes snapping open in the usual post-dream confusion. Her heart rate was accelerated, thumping about in her striped chest, and her mind felt foggy, cloyed in the thick, velvety memory of her soaring just moments before. She shook her head, stretching her six-toed paws in front her, orienting herself to the real world. Compared to her dream, it felt disappointedly monochromatic. Hopelessly blurry. Her eyes flicked over the sleeping bodies in the room, recognizing the dim lighting as evidence that it was just past dawn. The air had a moist feel to it and upon her consciousness becoming clear, noted the fact that it was raining.
Her lips formed a slight smile. Rain had always been a welcome surprise to Aster. Something about the smell, the pit-pat of the heavy raindrops falling over the territory, always awoke her senses. For a brief moment, she considered the possibility of returning to slumber, allowing the soothing white noise to lull her, but discarded that thought when Tawnypaw came to mind. She let out an almost inaudible groan.
Why Asterstripe had received an apprentice was exceedingly beyond her. Her fighting skills were basic at best, she had no motivation to learn anything further, and she was a well-known fan of solitude. The moment her name was called as mentor to the boisterous young she-cat, she could feel her clan’s collective apprehension. Tawnypaw was a complete juxtaposition to Aster’s reserved personality. She was strong, stubborn, smart. She had great potential, had traits that could be cultivated into formidable skills- with the right mentor, that is. Frankly, Asterstripe was unsure of what to do with the young cat. She considered asking Rosestar to rescind her apprentice, to place her in more capable paws, but didn’t want to field the outrage, the pestering, from her family. They were enough to deal with already. Plus, Emberfang would never forgive her for disowning her baby girl; for handing her off to another warrior and giving up on her kin.
As of yet, in the short time Tawny had been under her guidance, Aster had been talked back to, insulted, belittled, and ultimately ignored. No amount of punishment, chores, or unsavoury tasks have made a substantial difference. Hence, the tabby has generally given up on typical disciplinary action and instead focused on bribery and psychological tricks. The she-cat was intelligent, yes, but thought very frequently with her heart, not her head.
Asterstripe pushed herself to standing, quietly exited, and made her way over to the apprentice den, bracing herself for the storm that was her charge. The she-cat poked her head in, calling out softly,
“Tawnypaw, its time to go.”
@satellite
Aster jolted awake, olive eyes snapping open in the usual post-dream confusion. Her heart rate was accelerated, thumping about in her striped chest, and her mind felt foggy, cloyed in the thick, velvety memory of her soaring just moments before. She shook her head, stretching her six-toed paws in front her, orienting herself to the real world. Compared to her dream, it felt disappointedly monochromatic. Hopelessly blurry. Her eyes flicked over the sleeping bodies in the room, recognizing the dim lighting as evidence that it was just past dawn. The air had a moist feel to it and upon her consciousness becoming clear, noted the fact that it was raining.
Her lips formed a slight smile. Rain had always been a welcome surprise to Aster. Something about the smell, the pit-pat of the heavy raindrops falling over the territory, always awoke her senses. For a brief moment, she considered the possibility of returning to slumber, allowing the soothing white noise to lull her, but discarded that thought when Tawnypaw came to mind. She let out an almost inaudible groan.
Why Asterstripe had received an apprentice was exceedingly beyond her. Her fighting skills were basic at best, she had no motivation to learn anything further, and she was a well-known fan of solitude. The moment her name was called as mentor to the boisterous young she-cat, she could feel her clan’s collective apprehension. Tawnypaw was a complete juxtaposition to Aster’s reserved personality. She was strong, stubborn, smart. She had great potential, had traits that could be cultivated into formidable skills- with the right mentor, that is. Frankly, Asterstripe was unsure of what to do with the young cat. She considered asking Rosestar to rescind her apprentice, to place her in more capable paws, but didn’t want to field the outrage, the pestering, from her family. They were enough to deal with already. Plus, Emberfang would never forgive her for disowning her baby girl; for handing her off to another warrior and giving up on her kin.
As of yet, in the short time Tawny had been under her guidance, Aster had been talked back to, insulted, belittled, and ultimately ignored. No amount of punishment, chores, or unsavoury tasks have made a substantial difference. Hence, the tabby has generally given up on typical disciplinary action and instead focused on bribery and psychological tricks. The she-cat was intelligent, yes, but thought very frequently with her heart, not her head.
Asterstripe pushed herself to standing, quietly exited, and made her way over to the apprentice den, bracing herself for the storm that was her charge. The she-cat poked her head in, calling out softly,
“Tawnypaw, its time to go.”
@satellite
