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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:09:17 GMT -10
Martyrdom Doesn't Come Without A Reason [/font] The patrol came, and she came with it. When they first threw her to the ground, and she glared back at them with the same hatred that they showed her, nobody thought anything of it. Why should they? She was PineClan. They all chalked it up to foolish, sinful bravado. What else could it be?
But when they beat her... I saw that it was something different. It was bravery and courage, not a lie that her eyes had shown.
Now they're about to do what they did to her to me, maybe even worse, but I won't be scared. I have to be like her, for the sake of everybody.
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Word Count: 111 The Prompt: #20, bravado. The Voice: Dovepaw of FogClan (Me) The Spoken About: Harepaw of PineClan (Pyro) Comments: I really wish that I could've put more into this. Stupid word limit. I hate having to be so obscure. You guys get it though, sort of, right?
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:09:56 GMT -10
The Best Sort of Bias to Have is None At All. "Bluefur, what's a bigot?"
"Why, little one? Did somebody call you that?"
"No, they called Miststar that. It doesn't sound very nice."
"Well... a bigot is... uh..."
"Bluefur, why does everybody say mean things about everybody else? I know Miststar's not a good cat, but still, it's not right. She deserves to be loved as much as anybody else."
That left you speechless, my old friend. I suppose it had never occurred to you before.
"Maybe if somebody showed her love then she wouldn't be so mean to everybody. And maybe if nobody said mean things, there wouldn't be any bigots, whatever those are."
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Word Count: 104 Prompt: #44, bias. The Voice: Crowpaw of PineClan (Me) The Spoken To: Bluefur of PineClan (Slug) Comments: Wow, this is really my first drabble since June. I felt like I had to write something though, since my posting muse is effectively, er, nonexistent right now.
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:10:49 GMT -10
The Best Sort of Luck in the World [/font] Once upon a time, in a very far away place, a she-cat gave a little plant to a tom. It was solid green, and had four flat, bulbous things on the top. It was old and a little bit shriveled up, and the tom, a handsome young thing, stared skeptically. What was this? So he asked.
And she told him. It was a shamrock, she said, and the day she’d found it had been the luckiest day of her life. It was the day she met him. They were best friends, you see, and would be forever, or so they thought. That was the best luck of all.
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Word Count: 108 Prompt: #18, shamrock. Characters: Rainpaw and Analucia >>; Comments: Yeah, I know, enough with the sappy RainxAna stuff, but how else am I supposed to write about a shamrock? They're the only two I can think of who'd know what a shamrock was, even. -shrugs- Sorry. |D
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:11:49 GMT -10
The Strike of the Infamous She-Badger! Hawkheart grinned. Crowclaw was so much fun to tease, and it made for so much fun. Right now it looked like he would like to skin her alive. That would be fun.
Eh, she didn’t care. Her trademark smirk was plastered on her face as she danced around her clanmate, giggling hysterically. And then she did the unthinkable. She licked him, right smack on the nose!
Crowclaw spluttered furiously, but she just laughed and trotted away. She was maddening like that.
The Infamous She-Badger had struck again!
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Word Count: 87 Prompt: #21, lick. Characters: Crowclaw (Slug) and Hawkheart (Me) of MeadowClan Comments: I know it's a bit lax on the details, but you can totally see this going down, yeah? Oh, they'll be such great friends.
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:12:22 GMT -10
If I do have a soul, give it to someone who deserves it. [/font] You all tell me that I need to follow your rules so that my soul can go to StarClan when I’m gone. You’re overlooking one important thing though. I don’t have a soul.
Could anybody with a soul do what I’ve done? Betrayal is the worst offense against anybody. It’s worse than murder, worse than all the sins your silly little rules lay out. My soul would be an ugly thing indeed if I did have one.
But I don’t. I can’t. I don’t deserve a soul, not after what I’ve done.
He can have it if he wants, though.
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Word Count: 100 Prompt: #56, betrayal. The Voice: Dovepaw of FogClan (Me) The Spoken About: Smokefur of FogClan (Poizuun) Comments: Rolo commended me for Dovepaw's reaction because she said it was realistic and I was brave for writing it. This is the aftermath though. Does it still seem brave?
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:13:16 GMT -10
The Consequence of Choice [/font] “Hey, I heard that blind PineClan warrior just had a litter.”
“Oh? That’s interesting.”
“Who would even want a PineClanner?”
“She hasn’t told the clan who the father is, so I’ve heard.”
“What’s her name? Hare-something, isn’t it?”
“I heard the kits are ginger.”
Firestorm winced. Why couldn’t his clanmates just shut up? He’d heard it yesterday, and the day before that, and he would probably hear it every day from now on, haunting his mind. “They’re ginger.”
It made his heart twinge.
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Word Count: 83 Prompt: #39, lust. Characters: Firestorm of FogClan (Whiskers), mentions of Hareclaw Comments: Poor Firestorm. He'll hear about his kits for the rest of his life and will never get to be their father.
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:13:57 GMT -10
Why Briartail likes the cold the best. There was a point of flickering orange on the horizon- gyrating, pulsing, orange that threatened to lick all the way up into the sky. The closer he got the more intense the orange became. Eventually different colors began to show themselves. Blues, purples, reds, yellows, and the most intense white his eyes had ever seen all tormented his eyes and blasted his body with heat. Because they weren’t just colors, they were fire. And that fire wasn’t burning just anything, it was burning his happiness away. He wanted to step into the beautiful colors and find his happiness again, but he knew very well that it would come to no good. They were gone.
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Word Count: 114 Prompt: #95, heat. The Spoken About: Briartail of StreamClan (Me) Comments: I love the colors of fire. I just wish that it didn't hurt so much if you get too close.
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:14:28 GMT -10
Everybody loves differently. “Daddy, I stepped on a thorn. Wanna see?”
“No.”
But the little black paw was thrust into Crowclaw’s face anyway. That thorn was really in deep, so deep that blood even trickled out. Ravenkit’s chin quivered.
“Daddy, it hurts.”
“Well, don’t step on it next time.”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“Sometimes things that you don’t mean to happen happen, and they end up hurting.”
“You mean like me?”
Crowclaw blinked. The kid had hit the nail right on the head. It was sad that he could tell. It was really sad.
“Here, let me take a look at that.”
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Word Count: 100 Prompt: #31, family. Characters: Crowclaw (Slug) and Ravenkit of MeadowClan Comments: I'm sorry I didn't do them justice Slug, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. I'll take it down if you want me to. It was written a lot better in my mind!
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:15:08 GMT -10
What should not be is. [/font] We walk. We try to have fun, but there are big things, long things, scary things that are darker than everything else. Mother says they’re called shadows. She says they’re not scary, that everyone has them. But I don’t like them. Shapeless and dark should not be. All should be beautiful and light, like Mother.
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Word Count: 55 Prompt: #25, shadows. The Voice: Sedgekit of ForestClan (NP) Comments: My first attempt at a Sedgekit drabble. Please don't shoot me.
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:15:41 GMT -10
Funeral for Happiness I couldn’t do anything but stare for a long while. All that was right and good in the world had been destroyed, reduced to a smoldering pile of cinders inside a charred skeleton. That skeleton was weak, though, and before I could walk in it collapsed.
My feet burned with each step, but I had to keep looking. They had to be there. They couldn’t be gone.
Well... I found them. What should have been pure white was tarnished with ash- all else had gone. So I cleaned them off and then covered them with earth. They, at least, could forget what had taken them, being cleaned.
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Word Count: 109 Prompt: #62, bones. The Voice: Briartail of StreamClan Comments: Yeah. Sorry all my Briartail drabbles are so depressing. Oh well. I kinda like this one though. I find it to be... pretty, in a very odd way.
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Post by Glowy on Jun 25, 2011 14:16:34 GMT -10
Rise of the WERELICHEN. Be afraid. Be very afraid. [/font] It was... there. Smoky wisps of crunchy green hanging off the tree. The full moon was obscured by a bank of clouds, but they were moving fast. It was almost time.
A burst of brilliant white light, and the transformation was complete!
-
Rhea just... stared for a while. What in the pit was Lichenheart doing? His body had gone all stiff and now he was mumbling some crazy thing about dirt.
So... she smacked him right upside the head. Clocked him pretty good too.
“LIIIIIICHEEEEENNNNNNNNNN! IN MY HEART I AM MUCH LICHEN.”
“No, I think that’s in your brain, actually."
--- Word Count: 100 Prompt: #24, focal point. Characters: Lichenheart of MeadowClan (Pyro) and Rhea of MeadowClan (Nightfall) Comments: Focal point. Yeah. Lichen = transformation, apparently. I dunno. Lichen is a funny dude. :3
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Post by Glowy on Jul 3, 2011 13:40:31 GMT -10
Scaring Away the Storms. Noise. Loud, big noise, like giant paws racing in the sky. Oh, and all these flashes of brightness, there and gone before I could even squeal. You weren’t there, Mother. You’d gone off somewhere else; me, I was all by myself. Probably you had strong, beautiful cats to protect you from the brightness and big paws, but I had nobody. My World was gone. And I was tired, just so tired from the longness of everything: shadows, days, journey. So I slept.
Cold was everything, until I woke and my World was back, being warm and scaring away noises and brightness.
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Word Count: 101 Prompt: #26, flashes. The Voice: Sedgekit of ForestClan (Whiskers, NP) The Spoken To: Gingerstar of PineClan (Whiskers) Comments: Yay, my first drabble on v2! I know this one is kinda vague, but just imagine Sedgekit being alone for a few moments during a thunderstorm. I dunno.
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Post by Glowy on Jul 11, 2011 19:58:36 GMT -10
You fell when you couldn't see my forgiveness. Don't blame yourself. [/font] It’s okay, you know, that I’m gone and you’re still there. They all say that you are evil, but they don’t know the truth. They don’t know a thing. You loved me. Really, you did. You just forgot sometimes, and made me sad. My world would drop out from underneath my tiny paws, but it always came back until the day the sun called me and I left the world behind.
It isn’t your fault, Mother. I had to go. Nothing you could have done could stop time. I forgive you for letting me go and not crying. Because you crying would bring rain clouds, and I don’t like it when rain clouds cover you.
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Word Count: 115 Prompt: #58, forgiveness. The Voice: Sedgekit of ForestClan (Whiskers, NP) The Spoken To: Gingerstar of PineClan (Whiskers) Comments: I know, I know, two Sedgekit drabbles in a row. But oh well. I'm on a Gingerstar kick right now, but I can't seem to drabble with her so I'll drabble to her.
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Post by Glowy on Jul 7, 2012 13:28:57 GMT -10
A Formless Dream, Nothing More.
Oh, to be a cloud, soaring high above the world in the vast blue expanses of azure whatever-it-was-up-there. There, she would be untouched.
Did those pure, white clouds have eyes to see the world below them? Did they like what they saw? She wondered.
The only problem with being a formless, untouchable thing would be the inability to touch the world.
… if she could be a cloud, who would join her?
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Word Count: 76 Prompt: #27, clouds. The Voice/Mind/Soul: Dovepaw of FogClan (Me); vaaaague reference to Poppythroat of FogClan (Pyro) /isbrick'd Comments: So. Haven't drabbled in almost an entire year. I felt like I should do so. So I did. DOvepaw's been on my mind lately, and given Nuvole bianche, I thought that clouds suited her quite well.
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