|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Snow's Story Part 2After the ceremony was over and my first day of training had ended, I visited Bluepaw. "HELLOOOO" I called into the apprentice den. Bluepaw popped her head out "Ow, you have such a big mouth." "Heh.." "What's up?" I completely forgot what I came for "Uh I dunno " Bluepaw just gave me this blank expression, then out of nowhere tackled me to the ground "I thought we were gonna be warriors together What happened?" She asked me out of nowhere "Wait, just think of it, I can talk to my mother! And my sister, I mean, wouldn't that be great? Plus, we can still go into battle and stuff together, I'll just be helping out the wounded. Plus we might do battle training together, medicine cats still have to learn battle training" Bluepaw thought over what she just heard "Well, as long as we still get to spend time together, I'm fine with it. It's gonna be lonely sleeping without any other apprentices though, with your brother still in the nursery, I hope he gets better" I looked down
Snow's Story Part 1Snowfeather's Story~
My name is Snowfeather, or Snowy for short. That's what my best friend calls me. She's a human, and I'm a cat. Confusing right? Well, allow me to elaborate
I was born in the forest. Some of you may know the six Clans. There's Thunderclan, Riverclan, Shadowclan, Skyclan, Windclan, and Starclan. I was born into Iceclan. Iceclan is a 7th clan that no one has ever heard of. I think Anyway, at birth I had a sister and a brother, and a mom, of course. Well, my mother died, the stress was too much and she lost a lot of blood, the tradition is that if a kit's mother dies at birth, they should never know their parents birth names. So I grew up without knowing who my mom or dad was. Harsh huh? My sister died a few days later, but my brother, Starkit, grew up with me. At least I had him. Me and him were nursed by my best friend's (Growing up) mother. My friends name was Bluekit. We had tons of fun together. As a kit we would all play games and dream of becoming an
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
Keep in Touch!