[ whispering shadows ] ~ open

[Storm]

With a bored sigh, a dark tabby sat down beneath the shelter of a small oak tree. The sun was setting, and everything was so quiet and empty. There was absolutely nothing interesting happening at the moment; no fighting, rule-breaking or any sort of chaos. Shadowheart yearned for war and disagreement, hating moments of harmony and peace. Even though Clan life was far from peaceful, it wasn’t always disarrayed. Shadowheart wanted to constantly be in action, fighting, exploring or really anything other than just sitting beneath an oak tree. He wanted to cause some chaos himself, perhaps to the other three Clans. But, there was really nothing he could do at the moment. He didn’t exactly want to cause harm to his already-messed up Clan. They had enough to deal with at the moment, like the disappearance of Miststar and the new leadership problem. Volepelt had taken over leadership when Miststar, the former FogClan boss, had disappeared. He hadn’t gone to receive his name or his nine lives, believing that Miststar was still alive. Many cats were whispering about this problem, but Shadowheart didn’t care much. It would be easier and faster to restore his precious Clan without a real leader running it, and he didn’t think that Volepelt would last much longer as the temporary leader. At the moment, Shadowheart had no plans or ideas how to restore FogClan. His mother, Willowfang, would know exactly what to do with this mess, but she was long dead, ‘accidentally’ killed by two Council members as punishment for being faithless. Shadowheart was actually in the Council himself, even punishing the traitorous felines of FogClan. They had absolutely no idea that he was exactly what they feared most, a sinner, as they called his kind. He hid his beliefs very well, and to every other cat he seemed just as StarClan-crazy as the rest of them. A bird call in the distance woke Shadowheart up from his trance, and he quickly sat up. He didn’t want to be found sitting around when there were mouths to feed, so he crept off into the bushes, looking for prey. It took a while of looking around and scenting the area, but he finally pinpointed a rabbit in the end. Instinctively dropping into a hunters’ crouch, Shadowheart stalked forward on light paws. The poor rabbit was quickly dead, not knowing what had killed it. Looking down at the fresh-kill, Shadowheart was very tempted to eat it, which was considered a great treachery in the Clans. Queens, kits, elders and anyone else who couldn’t hunt for their self had to always be fed first. Apprentices often made the mistake of eating fresh-kill they had caught while out on a patrol. In any other Clan, their punishment would be a quick but stern word with their mentor, but in FogClan the punishment was much worse. Not only did you get yelled at, but you also would get a much older warrior, usually a Council member, claw you up a little bit. Usually the wounds were just supposed to be small, but sometimes the Council members could get a bit carried away … With an annoyed twitch of his tail, Shadowheart reluctantly turned away from the rabbit and began digging up dirt to temporarily store it in. This was his absolute least favourite part in the hunting process, since it meant getting dirt beneath his claws and all over his paws. It took such a long time to clean everything off, and by the time Shadowheart was done doing that, he would have to repeat the process all over again. Suddenly, the dark tom’s ears flicked up, and he paused his digging. He could have sworn he heard a bush rattle and some crunching, as if a cat had been walking on the leafy ground. Narrowing his eyes, Shadowheart cautiously looked around the small clearing. It seemed empty, but felines always seemed to be great at hiding and spying. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he called out into the now-dark forest, embarrassed for feeling a bit spooked. He didn’t like the idea of unknown cats watching him.

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[Rolo]

((Just saying now, just in case this does get moved to real rp: The council has not and will not kill any cats at the moment. They may injure them badly (which is still pretty rare, they're usually a lot of minor punishments), but they will not kill them. We plan to let situations get as bad as you're describing later in the plot, but at the moment most of the punishments are 'fair' and not excessive (Thrushflower is the only insane one, out of the 5 we have). So your thing about someone being 'accidentally' killed can't have happened, the clan isn't bad enough yet. Relating to his mother's story, there are a lot of vocal disbelievers actively causing trouble, but they've still only sustained semi-minor wounds for each sin.

However, cats could die from the sinwounds recieved through punishments, as these wounds are not allowed to be healed by medicine cats. Just a heads up for the future Sorry to interrupt your rping, but since you're making a council cat, I figured it was important for you to know ^^))

[Poi]

[bg=c7c6c4][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] Fawnfoot sauntered through Fogclan territory, not doing anything in particular. She found it useful not to be in camp for most of the day. If she was out wandering around, pretending to do something of use, it was less likely for her to get blamed for any incidents that went on. Not that she gave much of a beaver’s bottom if she was accused of sinning, she took her punishment as it came. The way she saw it, the physical pain was far less than the mental pain she’d dealt with as a kit. She didn’t bother with Starclan. Not that she didn’t believe in them, she had just as much faith of their existence as any other cat in Fogclan. She was certain they were real, and positive that cats needed to follow the code to earn their place in the sparkling clan in the sky. Fawnfoot, however, had no intention of earning her rank. She would rather do as she pleased on earth and die without a spot then feel restricted during her lifetime. What good did Starclan do a cat once they were there? What’s so wrong with the Dark Forest? What Volepelt was doing was insane, and cats should have the right to think whatever they wanted. The punishments made Fawnfoot angry, yet there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it, as she was far too lazy to organize a revolt. She would gladly join one if asked, but she highly doubted anyone would want her to take part in a revolution of any sort. She wouldn’t change anything, she’d simply continue doing as she wished. Her paws touched the ground ever so lightly as she floated over the earth beneath her pads. The setting sun sent a red glow shining between the trees. It was a marvelous thing, a sunset. One of the few things Fawnfoot would stop for, and simply enjoy, as she decided she would do that night. She began searching for a good view of the majestic scene, when another cat’s voice interrupted her. “Why must other felines interrupt my silence? So inconsiderate…” She thought to herself before letting the frightful words sink in. She quickly calculated that the speaker was Shadowheart, a member of council. Her mind spiraled to a time when he had given her punishment for sin. What had she done? She had not showed up for one of Volepelt’s pointless clan meetings. Of course, it was only a meeting to destroy some rebel who had done some terrible sin, so Fawnfoot needn’t be present. But one of her clanmate’s noticed her absence and informed council. Her punisher turned out to be Shadowheart, but she didn’t hold a grudge against him. He was doing his job, and she credited him for his joy of pain. She didn’t mind the punishment itself, only the reason for the punishment is what she found absurd. Oh well, life goes on. “No, you imbecile, the bush is rustling itself,” Fawnfoot spat sarcastically at the tom, ambling pretentiously out from behind a bush. She was laughing silently about the slight fear emanating from Shadowheart. Council cat’s probably had a lot more standards to live up to, but that didn’t mean they should fear their punishment, if they even got one. Fawnfoot thought the council cats were so pathetic. One of them should have stopped Volepelt’s madness by now, but they had not. They all just went along with it, and Fawnfoot was convinced not all of them fully agreed with Volepelt. There had to be some dissonance in opinions, it just didn’t show. Thinking Speaking