The Sixth Clan Chapt.8 Blue-grey clouds rolled over the full moon, still not preventing it to shine brightly into the hollow. Firepaw raised his muzzle towards the dark sky as he prepared anxiously for the Gathering.The Sixth Clan Chapt.82 weeks ago in Settings More Like This
"I wonder what's keeping everyone", protested Dewpaw, the smell of skunk still slightly lingering from his dark pelt. "I don't want ThunderClan to be the last to arrive".
Lilypaw sat beside the smaller apprentice. "We've still got plenty of time", she reassured. "It's hardly even dark".
Firepaw gave his shoulder a nervous lick, timid about facing different apprentices from different Clans. At the time of the Gathering, he was going to meet cats from different Clans. He would bond, chat, boast about his first catch and compare moves, knowing that one day he would met them face-to-face in battle with unsheathed claws. Will I even make an enemy tonight?
The bramble tendrils of the apprentices den rustled, an
My EqualityEveryone is equalMy Equality1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Except for me
I am more
Than you will ever be
I rescued you
From the people’s hands
So be thankful
and listen to my commands
I am smart
Can you not see?
Catch me some food
And run around for me.
I will relax
You will just have to accept
There is nothing you can do
That is my fact
You think you can betray me?
Well this is my domain
I will let you be killed
To never be heard from again.
Casus Beli: The Huntress in GreenCasus Beli: The Huntress in Green1 week ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The Huntress in Green
Agatha Grunwald had been hunting most of her life; the only difference now was her targets. She had hunted deer and rabbits once, now she hunted bigger more dangerous prey. Frankonian Line Infantry. She was here for one reason. The Königin, had opened the ranks of the army to women; the military disasters of the previous years had left Pommern with the need for bodies in the field. If they happened to be women, fine as long as they could shoot.
The wars that encompassed Europe had left everyone with the same problem and the same solution. Women in uniform were still a novelty to the men fighting for their countries even after all these years of war but they needed only look to history. Kaviarov, the Orhan Empire, the Sarravids who had preceded it. Spain, Italy, the list went on and on. Closer to home Pommern had the Von Niedstatt line and another of their proud daughters, Königin Amalia Christianne I Von Niedestatt ruled. Ha
A poem beyond the veilThe warm hand clutching his own disappears, and every piece of thought or emotion drains from his mind as a creeping cold ebbs into his limbs. Darkness overtakes him, a velvet curtain of shadow being pulled over his vision bringing the colors of the world to the same dregling end that his thoughts had faced. For a time he existed, living without breath or thought in the effervescent veil of darkness that was death. He couldn't remember, he couldn't think, he couldn't feel. He could only exist. His determined self somehow managed to fight it in some way, hanging in this place of limbo for an intelligible amount of time. Grasping without hands to existence, fighting with the same strength that he had possessed in life. But eternity seemed to be on the other end of this tug-of-war, and it was a battle that he was inevitably going to lose. When finally his spirit let go, any awareness that had managed to cliA poem beyond the veil1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
Then RuthThen Ruth6 hours ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
"I raise a toast of snifter to the old dreadful crow
-beaked Widow Whitmarsh 'erself
but let us not toast to her quick departure,
let us toast to her good health!
Shall we not or shall we pour a glass for 'er?
For we all know what is true,
like any other aged and desolate woman
she gasps for a drink or two!
I did see'er sip the elixir in m'hand many times
and spill the stories too mine ear and feed
my curiosity from toe to nose like the
fullness of my goblet bursting with mead
why do the crowd laugh? I listened to'er tell!
Be no better time to mourn than May
with her first-born son icily silent and dead
underneath our feet, and the second son gay?
You look outside these windows to this year's spring
do the unborn flowers not look sad?
The tiny and feeble lambs are springing right up
they are, like new life gone mad!
Sh'told me that she did–O my tankard is empty once more!
Thank you my dear young woman for
being so kind to me, and fill my cup to the tip
like the h