Post by DANNISTAR on Apr 15, 2014 20:41:47 GMT -6
These are events that lead to the creation of the new clans. These stories are what kits will one day be told by the elders of the clans.
from the ground to the sky
Hill was born from a rogue and a kitty-pet, and from his mother's side he can trace his history back to Windclan - through his great-grandmother Snowflower. The eldest of four kittens; and the only tom Hill became a fast and soon outspoken individual whose ambitious was noticed nearly instantly by his great-grandmother. His sisters; Rock, Moor and Petal were imagines of his grandmother; white cats with green eyes; where as he took after his grandfather; with pelt as brown as the dying grass. Though tales of a clan swift and cautious flooded his ears; Hill took his own dealings to heart and promised his grandmother that this Windclan would rise once more; a kittenish promise, but one that Hill intended to keep. He became a soldier of sorts; traveling with his family; spinning tales of the once great clan of Windclan and even locating those with the blood. But his journey was not simply him speaking; it was his sister Petal who spoke of the starry cats within the sky; spoke of the roles the cats would play; and soon she would convince other cats to join their small group. He found his own way; naming his youngest sibling his second in command; and even as she took a mate - a rogue whose lineage was nothing but bad-blood; and even as she became heavy with kits - Hill let her recruit the cats; and with his mind set of forming the pack. As it came to pass; Hill would meet with two she-cats known as Creek and Tree and they would agree to travel together. Cautiously he stayed more to himself; putting in his opinion only when he thought it was to benefit his clan and not theirs. When it came time to separate; he took to the moors; claiming only a cat descend of the Wind could claim such a beautiful place. He was the eldest; seventy-two moons old and to his lineage, his nephews; Snow and Gecko were both thirty-two moons of age; and Hill named his youngest Nephew Snow; his deputy. Not even a few moons later; Hillclan would battle it's border with Treeclan - and Hill would suffer a wound that left his right fore-leg limp; dead - and the constant ache of his chest there. However his injury only came with amusement as the rival leader also retired - her eyesight vanishing; and Hill would caution his nephew.
"Trust no one of Treeclan, there blood is as bad as the shadow-fishes."
"My mother's grandmother was an old cat; and by the time I had been born, she was 90 moons of age; and forever blind to the world around her. But her tales were that of something she had long since lost - of heartbreak and horror; but there were times where she would gather me and my sisters around and she would speak tales of such glory that it filled our little hearts. She spoke highly and fondly of a clan so swift and spiritually sound that they spent their nights away under the stars in clear view of these cats within the sky. My great-grandmother spoke of her misfortunes and her heartbreaks; "I lost my first born son; oh Bearkit was so sweet; but it was your grandfather, Bramblekit that lived on - he did the only sound thing... he ran." But there was nothing anyone could think of - as the clans fell in on each other; I came to understand one thing - that this clan my grandmother belonged to; Windclan - was a great clan whose long legs carried them, even unto this day."
Hill was born from a rogue and a kitty-pet, and from his mother's side he can trace his history back to Windclan - through his great-grandmother Snowflower. The eldest of four kittens; and the only tom Hill became a fast and soon outspoken individual whose ambitious was noticed nearly instantly by his great-grandmother. His sisters; Rock, Moor and Petal were imagines of his grandmother; white cats with green eyes; where as he took after his grandfather; with pelt as brown as the dying grass. Though tales of a clan swift and cautious flooded his ears; Hill took his own dealings to heart and promised his grandmother that this Windclan would rise once more; a kittenish promise, but one that Hill intended to keep. He became a soldier of sorts; traveling with his family; spinning tales of the once great clan of Windclan and even locating those with the blood. But his journey was not simply him speaking; it was his sister Petal who spoke of the starry cats within the sky; spoke of the roles the cats would play; and soon she would convince other cats to join their small group. He found his own way; naming his youngest sibling his second in command; and even as she took a mate - a rogue whose lineage was nothing but bad-blood; and even as she became heavy with kits - Hill let her recruit the cats; and with his mind set of forming the pack. As it came to pass; Hill would meet with two she-cats known as Creek and Tree and they would agree to travel together. Cautiously he stayed more to himself; putting in his opinion only when he thought it was to benefit his clan and not theirs. When it came time to separate; he took to the moors; claiming only a cat descend of the Wind could claim such a beautiful place. He was the eldest; seventy-two moons old and to his lineage, his nephews; Snow and Gecko were both thirty-two moons of age; and Hill named his youngest Nephew Snow; his deputy. Not even a few moons later; Hillclan would battle it's border with Treeclan - and Hill would suffer a wound that left his right fore-leg limp; dead - and the constant ache of his chest there. However his injury only came with amusement as the rival leader also retired - her eyesight vanishing; and Hill would caution his nephew.
"Trust no one of Treeclan, there blood is as bad as the shadow-fishes."
hill
roots before branches
"My great grandfather used to tell me of a great clan he was once a part of. It was a strong clan, fiercest the forest had ever seen. My grandfather used to laugh and say that the clan must not have been fierce enough to fall the way it did. But I remember the way their eyes used to light up, talking about ThunderClan as if it still existed, but in their hearts it had never truly died. It is probably best that way. My mother and father and my siblings never experienced the clans, but it has never taken my faith. I believed that maybe some day, I would find my way to a clan of my own."
Tree was born a loner to cats that could trace their blood from the original ThunderClan cats. Even though the name had long since been lost, the blood still ran strong through her body and it left her with a strong ambition to show what she was really capable of. At a young age it had never been easy for Tree to address other cats, she became cautious and careful in her years and often was known for the way she used to keep herself carefully concealed from the dangers of the world. But it seemed that time was the only thing she really needed because as time went by, Tree began to blossom and show promise of leadership qualities and ambition for her dreams of one day being a part of a clan.
After careful searching, Tree became aware of several other cats that could trace their linage back to ThunderClan and filled the cats with stories of their ancestors, attempting to lure the adventurous ones into the journey that she wished to partake in. Every moon passed and slowly the recruits began to swell in numbers until her group of cats grew to almost a number of twenty-three. That was when she crossed paths with Creek and Hill. The two had interested her, their own stories of the clans seemed to be so different and yet the same, and she began to see hope in her vision coming true. The three agreed to a journey that would lead their followers to a new home, a place where the clans could exist together, as one.
Tree traveled at their side, attempting to create executive decisions that would help her clan in any way possible, but because she was a few moons younger, well she was convinced more than once that her opinion never truly mattered. When they reached the new land, Tree was at the age of sixty-three, and her own kits which she had had when she was only twenty moons old, were now almost forty-three moons old themselves. Pine, Birch, and Aspen. Pine was the only one that ever supported his mother's dream, and in the end it lead to is appointment of deputy.
Not long after the skirmish with the HillClan leader, Tree was forced to step down from her position when the injury to her eyes resulted in an infection that costed her eyesight and almost her life. Now she lives out the rest of her days unable to watch her vision form before her and only dreams that her clan will grow to half of what she wished for it to become. Everything must happen for a reason, no sense in believing otherwise.
"My great grandfather used to tell me of a great clan he was once a part of. It was a strong clan, fiercest the forest had ever seen. My grandfather used to laugh and say that the clan must not have been fierce enough to fall the way it did. But I remember the way their eyes used to light up, talking about ThunderClan as if it still existed, but in their hearts it had never truly died. It is probably best that way. My mother and father and my siblings never experienced the clans, but it has never taken my faith. I believed that maybe some day, I would find my way to a clan of my own."
Tree was born a loner to cats that could trace their blood from the original ThunderClan cats. Even though the name had long since been lost, the blood still ran strong through her body and it left her with a strong ambition to show what she was really capable of. At a young age it had never been easy for Tree to address other cats, she became cautious and careful in her years and often was known for the way she used to keep herself carefully concealed from the dangers of the world. But it seemed that time was the only thing she really needed because as time went by, Tree began to blossom and show promise of leadership qualities and ambition for her dreams of one day being a part of a clan.
After careful searching, Tree became aware of several other cats that could trace their linage back to ThunderClan and filled the cats with stories of their ancestors, attempting to lure the adventurous ones into the journey that she wished to partake in. Every moon passed and slowly the recruits began to swell in numbers until her group of cats grew to almost a number of twenty-three. That was when she crossed paths with Creek and Hill. The two had interested her, their own stories of the clans seemed to be so different and yet the same, and she began to see hope in her vision coming true. The three agreed to a journey that would lead their followers to a new home, a place where the clans could exist together, as one.
Tree traveled at their side, attempting to create executive decisions that would help her clan in any way possible, but because she was a few moons younger, well she was convinced more than once that her opinion never truly mattered. When they reached the new land, Tree was at the age of sixty-three, and her own kits which she had had when she was only twenty moons old, were now almost forty-three moons old themselves. Pine, Birch, and Aspen. Pine was the only one that ever supported his mother's dream, and in the end it lead to is appointment of deputy.
Not long after the skirmish with the HillClan leader, Tree was forced to step down from her position when the injury to her eyes resulted in an infection that costed her eyesight and almost her life. Now she lives out the rest of her days unable to watch her vision form before her and only dreams that her clan will grow to half of what she wished for it to become. Everything must happen for a reason, no sense in believing otherwise.
tree
wild like the river
"I remember my mother used to tell me and my sister tales of her ancestry. My mother is just a kittypet, my father being a rouge. Yet, she raised us diligently. Never before have I seen that certain fire in her eyes but when I saw her talking about Shadowclan. She spoke of the marsh that her own grandmother used to tell her of. It inspired me to go find these cats. I wanted to learn more of this clan, I wanted to bring it back again. That's however, when I realized my father had Riverclan origins. He told us that no other clan could fish like Riverclan could. Both tales marveled me, and that's when I made my decision.
I would bring both clans back, and form one. We would rule the forest. We, we would be Creekclan."
Creek wasn't born as Creek, she was actually born under the name Magnolia Sunset [nicknamed "Sun"], and she was born into a breeders house, and was set to be a show cat. However, her temperament was too docile to be a show cat and was retired to be a pet. Her mother, who was named River's Shimmer. Sun's sister was too small to be a show cat, and was instantly retired the moment she was born. This cat was named Flight. The two sisters were close, and they never really knew their father until they turned ten moons, and their owner allowed them outside into the garden. That's when they met their father. He was called Creek, and resembled Sun very much.
A few moons later, and a hurting heart, Shimmer allowed Sun and Flight the choice to stay with her or become a rouge with their father. Shimmer however, couldn't. She loved her housefolk too much to stand leaving them. Sun chose to join her father, Flight however stayed with Shimmer because she was too sick to make it with her father. From then, Shimmer and Creek made a heartfelt goodbye and Creek and Sun made way for new lands. On their Journey, Creek told Sun many stories about Shadowclan and his origins. Sun was taken by them, and realized just how much Riverclan and Shadowclan had in common.
Over the moons, Sun and Creek grew tighter and tighter, and eventually they came to a land that resembled Riverclan and Shadowclan's old homes perfectly. Together, the two cats set out to find other cats with Riverclan and Shadowclan blood, bu in their travels, Creek fell ill, and before they could gather up any other cats, he passed away. His final wish to be that his daughter brought the clans up and strong again.
It was an emotional time when Creek passed away, but Sun grew stronger from it. She would raise Riverclan and Shadowclan from the depths, and Sun renamed herself Creek, in honor of her father. Alone, she gathered enough cats to start the clan back up again, and she named it Creekclan. Creekclan has flourished since. Then, she met Tree and Hill, founders of Treeclan and Hillclan, the three met together and realized that Hill was bringing up Windclan blood, Tree bringing up Thunderclan blood. The three were thrilled and started to keep up with the old traditions.
Then, Tree and Hill had their war and from that Creek became the mediator of the three, keeping Tree and Hill in line as to not cause another war.
"I remember my mother used to tell me and my sister tales of her ancestry. My mother is just a kittypet, my father being a rouge. Yet, she raised us diligently. Never before have I seen that certain fire in her eyes but when I saw her talking about Shadowclan. She spoke of the marsh that her own grandmother used to tell her of. It inspired me to go find these cats. I wanted to learn more of this clan, I wanted to bring it back again. That's however, when I realized my father had Riverclan origins. He told us that no other clan could fish like Riverclan could. Both tales marveled me, and that's when I made my decision.
I would bring both clans back, and form one. We would rule the forest. We, we would be Creekclan."
Creek wasn't born as Creek, she was actually born under the name Magnolia Sunset [nicknamed "Sun"], and she was born into a breeders house, and was set to be a show cat. However, her temperament was too docile to be a show cat and was retired to be a pet. Her mother, who was named River's Shimmer. Sun's sister was too small to be a show cat, and was instantly retired the moment she was born. This cat was named Flight. The two sisters were close, and they never really knew their father until they turned ten moons, and their owner allowed them outside into the garden. That's when they met their father. He was called Creek, and resembled Sun very much.
A few moons later, and a hurting heart, Shimmer allowed Sun and Flight the choice to stay with her or become a rouge with their father. Shimmer however, couldn't. She loved her housefolk too much to stand leaving them. Sun chose to join her father, Flight however stayed with Shimmer because she was too sick to make it with her father. From then, Shimmer and Creek made a heartfelt goodbye and Creek and Sun made way for new lands. On their Journey, Creek told Sun many stories about Shadowclan and his origins. Sun was taken by them, and realized just how much Riverclan and Shadowclan had in common.
Over the moons, Sun and Creek grew tighter and tighter, and eventually they came to a land that resembled Riverclan and Shadowclan's old homes perfectly. Together, the two cats set out to find other cats with Riverclan and Shadowclan blood, bu in their travels, Creek fell ill, and before they could gather up any other cats, he passed away. His final wish to be that his daughter brought the clans up and strong again.
It was an emotional time when Creek passed away, but Sun grew stronger from it. She would raise Riverclan and Shadowclan from the depths, and Sun renamed herself Creek, in honor of her father. Alone, she gathered enough cats to start the clan back up again, and she named it Creekclan. Creekclan has flourished since. Then, she met Tree and Hill, founders of Treeclan and Hillclan, the three met together and realized that Hill was bringing up Windclan blood, Tree bringing up Thunderclan blood. The three were thrilled and started to keep up with the old traditions.
Then, Tree and Hill had their war and from that Creek became the mediator of the three, keeping Tree and Hill in line as to not cause another war.
creek
smoke fills the air
“When the clans fell apart, much of what they knew about medicine died with them, and now only a few of us have any knowledge of herblore. My family – my line – we’re direct descendants of a clan medicine cat that survived after they fell apart, and my family has passed that knowledge down through the generations to, well – me. So I’ve traveled, healing where I can and gathering herbs as I go, wondering just how long our scant knowledge can survive. But now the clans are rising again, and the old ways are returning, and I’ve got to find a way to share what I know with them. I can only hope I’m up to the challenge.”
Smoke was born to a proud loner queen called Dawn. She and her sister are the youngest in a line descended from a medicine cat of the clans that survived their collapse. The knowledge of which clan, exactly, has been lost – the story goes that in the old days, medicine cats were not supposed to take mates, and so her clanborn ancestor’s name disappeared from family history, to spare them the shame of breaking their code. From this ancestor, a nearly-complete knowledge of herblore has been passed between generations. Some cats follow their blood and become roving medics, treating cats as they find them, while other abandon their legacy and live their lives as loners, rogues, and kittypets.
It was this scattering of cats that left Dawn as the last in the line, and led her to mate with a loner almost exclusively for the kits their union would produce – she held little affection for the tom, and ran him off shortly after discovering she was pregnant. She bore two kits – Smoke and her sister, Dove. The two sisters were taught herblore by their mother, and Dove, while studious, was drawn to the soft life of a kittypet. Dawn tried to convince her daughter to dedicate her life to the forest and the cats in it as her ancestors had, but Dove hated seeing death, hated feeling used, and feared for her life in the wild. She got herself taken in by a twoleg family, who moved away the next season, taking Dove and her gentle spirit beyond her family’s reach.
Smoke had a little more edge than her sister, and thrived under her mother’s focus, learning herbs, their uses, and their locations with speed and accuracy. She took leave of her mother at around a year old and began roaming the forest, finding herbs, storing them around the woods and streams, and helping sick and injured cats as she came across them, ever-drifting and unfettered by territory restrictions. She met with her mother occasionally, who had begun to pine for her lost daughter, and after another few seasons, retreated into twoleg territory with the promise of bringing her daughter home. Smoke hasn’t seen her since, but knows her mother – in all likelihood, she found a twoleg family to care for her and is taking a well-deserved retirement from a life of service. Smoke continued with her roving life, and was happy in it. She slept where and when she pleased, and everywhere she went she was a welcome surprise – she knew many cats vaguely, by name or sight, and had an uncanny ability to arrive just as she was needed.
But as the forest began to buzz with the rumor of the clans rising again, Smoke grew suspicious. Sure, uniting the cats of the forest was a fine idea, but the clans had fallen for a reason. And these weren’t a bloodline of noble warriors. They were loners, desperate and loyal only to themselves, clinging to the edge of survival and feeding off the tales of glory days long passed. But she also knew that large numbers of cats together could easily spread disease, and clans would mean rivalry and war, and war it was before long. As TreeClan and HillClan battled over a border, Smoke flitted between the ranks, healing who she could and diligently avoiding fights. She found Hill himself, injured, and realized that he'd never be able to use his injured foreleg again. Smoke was disappointed with how much violence had come from the clans - and so soon after their founding! - but it only hardened her resolve. Smoke has since devoted herself to making sure the clans have the medical expertise they need – though their ideals of loyalty and rivalry seem foreign to her.
“When the clans fell apart, much of what they knew about medicine died with them, and now only a few of us have any knowledge of herblore. My family – my line – we’re direct descendants of a clan medicine cat that survived after they fell apart, and my family has passed that knowledge down through the generations to, well – me. So I’ve traveled, healing where I can and gathering herbs as I go, wondering just how long our scant knowledge can survive. But now the clans are rising again, and the old ways are returning, and I’ve got to find a way to share what I know with them. I can only hope I’m up to the challenge.”
Smoke was born to a proud loner queen called Dawn. She and her sister are the youngest in a line descended from a medicine cat of the clans that survived their collapse. The knowledge of which clan, exactly, has been lost – the story goes that in the old days, medicine cats were not supposed to take mates, and so her clanborn ancestor’s name disappeared from family history, to spare them the shame of breaking their code. From this ancestor, a nearly-complete knowledge of herblore has been passed between generations. Some cats follow their blood and become roving medics, treating cats as they find them, while other abandon their legacy and live their lives as loners, rogues, and kittypets.
It was this scattering of cats that left Dawn as the last in the line, and led her to mate with a loner almost exclusively for the kits their union would produce – she held little affection for the tom, and ran him off shortly after discovering she was pregnant. She bore two kits – Smoke and her sister, Dove. The two sisters were taught herblore by their mother, and Dove, while studious, was drawn to the soft life of a kittypet. Dawn tried to convince her daughter to dedicate her life to the forest and the cats in it as her ancestors had, but Dove hated seeing death, hated feeling used, and feared for her life in the wild. She got herself taken in by a twoleg family, who moved away the next season, taking Dove and her gentle spirit beyond her family’s reach.
Smoke had a little more edge than her sister, and thrived under her mother’s focus, learning herbs, their uses, and their locations with speed and accuracy. She took leave of her mother at around a year old and began roaming the forest, finding herbs, storing them around the woods and streams, and helping sick and injured cats as she came across them, ever-drifting and unfettered by territory restrictions. She met with her mother occasionally, who had begun to pine for her lost daughter, and after another few seasons, retreated into twoleg territory with the promise of bringing her daughter home. Smoke hasn’t seen her since, but knows her mother – in all likelihood, she found a twoleg family to care for her and is taking a well-deserved retirement from a life of service. Smoke continued with her roving life, and was happy in it. She slept where and when she pleased, and everywhere she went she was a welcome surprise – she knew many cats vaguely, by name or sight, and had an uncanny ability to arrive just as she was needed.
But as the forest began to buzz with the rumor of the clans rising again, Smoke grew suspicious. Sure, uniting the cats of the forest was a fine idea, but the clans had fallen for a reason. And these weren’t a bloodline of noble warriors. They were loners, desperate and loyal only to themselves, clinging to the edge of survival and feeding off the tales of glory days long passed. But she also knew that large numbers of cats together could easily spread disease, and clans would mean rivalry and war, and war it was before long. As TreeClan and HillClan battled over a border, Smoke flitted between the ranks, healing who she could and diligently avoiding fights. She found Hill himself, injured, and realized that he'd never be able to use his injured foreleg again. Smoke was disappointed with how much violence had come from the clans - and so soon after their founding! - but it only hardened her resolve. Smoke has since devoted herself to making sure the clans have the medical expertise they need – though their ideals of loyalty and rivalry seem foreign to her.
smoke