Early Talents

[*Sinister*Dreams*]

Strikekit was not normal.

No, not at all.

He eyed the tree sitting just outside of camp, staring it down. He was currently attempting to indimidate this inanimate object while he sat calmly on the floor in the middle of camp, ignoring those who ran around the motionless kit.

One might consider why he was attempting to frighten something that wasn't alive.

And Strikekit would simply tell them the truth, unashamed. He'd tried climbing that tree earlier, and, picking up speed, began to race through its branches as he'd seen Scorpionpaw do before. He was only a couple moons old, but he already couldn't wait until apprenticehood. Anyways, as he'd been racing through the tree, he failed to notice a large hole in the branch, and had fallen through promptly, landing hard on his rear and scuttling off with a look of disgust.

Naturally, he'd given the tree a good few whacks with his claws afterward.

To be followed with dark staring.

[» Sacrifice]

"Typical. You fall, and then your going to pout about it. Why not do something; rather then just sit there, sullen as you are. Its boring me."
A voice rang out from the treetops. The figure was not hidden, rather, too high up to get an accurate look. All that one could see, was the fact she was white, with a few random black streaks. Not many knew who she was, sister of Scorpionpaw, but much more a loner. Maybe it was because she had actually been raised by a rogue, as well as some of her closest friends. They had thought it so smart to wander out, just when a blizzard his MapleClan. If it hadn't been for Dimitri, they all would have frozen to death. He had taught them, and then brought them back home. In turn, each had adapted to his way of living. Prismpaw was an oddity in the clan, never really viewed with a good light, always being stared at in ways that weren't good. It was quite annoying to the she cat, which was why one could always find her out here, higher in the trees then anyone else, her light weight balanced with perfect ease.

She had seen the whole thing. At first, she had admired the kit's bravery, but now, she was jabbing at him, for it was pointless to try and scare something that wasn't alive, and it was making him seem even more foolish then before. Carefully, she made her way down the tree, standing a few branches upward of the ground ridden tom. Her eyes, stunning in the least, were faintly amused, but more so irritated. One was a deep green, the other a light blue. She was as odd looking as she was tempered though, so it would be better not to judge on her good looks.
"You'll never succeed if you give up so easily. Not to mention its boring."
To her, this was a pep talk. Her tone was not sharp, rather, it was coaching, almost in an explaining way. It took a lot to rile up the she cat, and she wasn't very good at getting herself upset either.
"They call me Prismpaw. Scorpionpaw's sister. Who are you?"
Never one to dwadle, it seemed to be time for introductions, not that she was going to stand down this low and wait.

No, the trees were calling her, and leaping up a few more branches with a quick little trick to reach the higher up ones; only then did she turn back to the tom, eyes flickering with interest now, instead of annoyance and faint amusment. She was off in a way, but the experiances she had rivaled those of any other apprentices, aside from Gyrpaw and Badgerpaw, who had run off a couple moons ago and had yet to be seen. Of course, with their father gone, they could just be in PewterClan.

Eyes glowing slightly, balancing on a branch that looked as though it couldn't hold her weight, Primpaw looked down at the tom, just watching. And waiting of course.


((I haven't played her in ages. Bit out of character in this one.))

[*Sinister*Dreams*]

Strikekit's jaw dropped. Prismpaw was...crazy. He'd already decided that one as he sprang up after her, flicking his tail in agitation.

"Well excuse me, Miss Prismpaw. I'm Strikekit. And my point in sitting wasn't for you amusement, thank you, however I'm so sorry you were bored."

He rolled his eyes, glaring one last time at the hole between the branches that had promptly dropped him.

"You've distracted me. I was punishing the tree for spilling me out of it."

He glared at it again, before shaking his head to attention and looking back at her. Lucky apprentice.

[» Sacrifice]

A faint grin played out onto the apprentice's features, as she saw the jaw drop of the newly dubbed Strikekit. She never really failed to suprise anyone with her abilities of the trees. Nothing really frightened her here, she was willing to push the limits of everything, just not the way normally apprentices do. She didn't venture out of camp, looking for some cheap thrills. Not anymore, that was. Nowdays she did exactly as she was doing; it was just nice to find someone whom wasn't older then her, and didn't know her story. No doubt he thought her to be insane, when it looked as though the branch could snap with the slightest shift in her weight. It was always amusing, seeing the same looks in the faces that she revealed herself too.

"Many things bore me nowdays. Clan life is just dull, even for the apprentices of the clans. I guess it doesn't matter much though, you seem to be amusing yourself quite well Strikekit. Maybe its just me."
Voice dropping down slightly as she pondered slightly, before turning her gaze back to the kit below her, who had gone back to glaring at the tree that he had fallen out of. Shaking her head, and in the same proccess managing to roll her eyes, Prismpaw moved down a few branches, so her voice would be more easily read then before. Up where she had been, unless one had a keen ear, it had just been words. Here, everything would be so much easier to understand.

"It doesn't work; trees can't feel fear. They can't feel hurt, betrayed, happiness, anger. They are alive, but dead at the same time. Or to feel outcasted, excluded. At times, one could think them to be lucky, to miss the scathing glares, the unhappy looks. But then again, maybe they aren't too lucky."
Still watching the kit, Prismpaw found herself rather interesting in what he was saying. With no plans to turn him into Nimblestar, it was easy to converse with him, to speak honestly.

[*Sinister*Dreams*]

Strikekit laughed, shrugging a bit.
"To be honest, I'm sure a tree will feel something when it gets struck by lightning. Or I decide to run it through with my own hard head."
He loosened his grip on the tree, relaxing into it. Despite his fall earlier, Strike was still very comfortable in trees, even at top speed. Nimblestar would be proud, he thought, with a purr. The kit grinned at Prismpaw, taking into account her earlier words and speaking on them.
"Well of course clan-life gets boring. That's the point in sneaking off to the rogue canyons, silly. Of course with the ammount of cats vannishing off in that direction, I can't say I'll be doing that as an apprentice. But there's other things."
He bent close to whisper in her ear.
"Keep a secret if you can. I went to the two-leg place yesterday and came back with these hillarious herbs that taste delicious on fresh-kill. I'm considering taking a mouse over there at some point and working on pyrotechnics. Roasting it, if you know what I mean."
He smiled gently.
"They're actually in this tree, wrapped in a leaf deep in the hole. With any luck no one can smell it."

[» Sacrifice]

At that, the black and white she cat gave a soft chuckle.
"You have me there. I'll have to store that for any problems with rabid trees I may have in the future."
Strikekit was good around trees, she noted with a quick glance. Although at the moments ago he had been almost rigid, now he was leaning inward, feeling the tree, and letting his grip go. It was good to see, although almost nothing that happened to them really ever hurt kits. It was their determination that Prismpaw missed the most; for they say with age comes experiance. But how can the experiance come, when one is wary to try again after a fall? The saying was true though, and although the apprentice may have had more experiance in life then the kit beside her, but she lacked his bravery, rather, making up for it in quick actions when the time came, but not before that.

"No. At least, not me. The rogue canyon has been done by everyone who has had the guts to attempt it. Its old, something that although everyone thinks themselves to be true warriors for doing, really are just repeating something someone else has already done. Besides, I lived there for most of my kit-hood. I am clan born though, not rogue born."

Eyeing the tom, and glad to be able to tell her story on her accounts of what had happened, not the rumors that had occured after they had been returned, she settled back into the branches, speaking softly, the wind carrying her words in an almost playful manner. It was one of her favorite memories, one that she would forever hold with her.

"You know not of my story, aside from the false story spread around camp. Not all things in that version is false, but the truth, over time, gets mixed."
Removing her gaze from the tom, Prismpaw turned so her gaze looked over the horizon, a faintly distant look coming into her orbs as she began to think, and tell what had happened.

"We, Articpaw, Woodpaw, Cherokeepaw, and I, were kits when it happened. We foolishly thought ourselves to be brave, and tracked a couple warriors to the tunnels, ignoring the fact that the leader of the patrol turned and dashed back home. We were young, we didn't see the clouds, and the certanity of a snowstorm. After a while of exploring, keeping around each other natrually, the snow began to fall. At first, it was great fun, watching Arcticpaw and Woodpaw become rivals, each trying to outdo each other. The snow quickly piled up though, and we were all soaked to the bone, racked with termors, and just knowing we were going to die. We had unknowingly wandered into the rogue canyon, and from seemingly nowhere, a huge, dark brown tom dropped behind us. I thought it was to be the death of us, but he was not as bloodthirsty as rogues are told to be, not one of Renegade's rogues. He took us in that night with food and a dry den, and saved our lives. I thought we would go back in the morning, but the rogue, whom called himself Dimtri, offered us a choice. We could go back then, or stay with him for a while, and train. Needless to say, we wanted to train early. He was a difficult mentor, very sharp, but never put a paw on us when we were bad. It was his haunting, sad, gaze which brought us to our senses, and tore at our beings. I grew attached to the tom, who had become like a father to me, as well as everyone else. It was the best fun we had managed to have in, well, ever. He taught us secrets that I can't tell you, and it was great fun. Then, when his training was done, as promised, he took us back here. He was alone, not threatning, and it was obvious we adored him. Yet, the clan was still angry with him. I snapped, and yelled at everyone. With that, and a small smile from him, Dimitri left. It was the last I've ever seen him, but his lingering gift, the gift of being trained, trails us all every day. We get glared at, aren't trusted by anyone really. Yet, everytime I think of the tom whom saved out lives, I don't have resentment for him, rather, for those who drove him away. He had a haunted past, that much I could tell, although he didn't speak of it. I miss him, but he is a rogue, and there is no way I'll ever be able to visit him. Not while I still live in the clan, that is."

Ending with a faint sigh, the apprentice's gaze was darkened with memories, and an ache. She knew it was her fault, she shouldn't have let the tom go into camp. He wouldn't have listened to her anyway, but still. It didn't matter. Gaze flickering back to the tom, drawn back from her memories. As he told her his secret though, interest pricked her gaze.

"Really? Thats cool, I've never heard of anyone else doing that before. You'll have to take me when you actually do roast a mouse."
Ears flicking back slightly as she drew a quick breath, and paused for a moment to register the scents, Prismpaw turned back, once more, to the tom.

"It won't be noticable to a warrior. I smelled it somewhat, but I'm used to picking up on things. And if they don't know what they are looking for, the herbs will never be found, hopefully."
Grinning slightly at Strikekit, it was obvious she was interested in what he was doing. It was unique, maybe one day she would try a mouse of her own that had been flavored with herbs.