Memories

[Molten]

Molten stepped closer to the lava, leaving faint footprints in the ground. Her paws were coated in a layer of ash. She didn't care right now, although usually she'd be trying to clean it off before it got unbearably thick. She tried to make herself feel at home by comparing her current surroundings to the surroundings that she was used to. The warmth radiating off of the glowing lava reminded her of the mother's body heat. Molten kneaded at the ground, outstretched her toes, and let the soot seep between her toes like her mother's fur. She closed her eyes and tiny, rumbling purrs escaped her throat. This moment reminded her as life as a kit, although it smelled like burning.

Thoughts of her kithood reminded her of what happened afterwards. Molten's heart let out one big beat. She felt guilty.

[Smokeleaf]

Rowanfur snarled, pacing angrily in the small BlazeClan prison. "Fox dung," he spat for the thousandth time, then reared up on his hind legs and swatted the air. His front paws met the ground with a thump and he sighed before pacing again. This was becoming a pattern, he knew, and he loathed it. He loathed this entire place, and what it was doing to him. He remembered being back in StreamClan, with his kin and his friends and the cool water seeping between his toes. Now the only thing between his toes was ash, and lots of it. Just to mix things up a bit, he leaped up and down along his self-made track, trying to pound the flecks out from his claws, but it only made it worse. It wasn't long before he realized that this was part of the pattern, too; he did this every day, every round, over and over. Why didn't he realize it sooner?
He was going mad.
Maybe this wasn't true. Maybe it was only be the boredom getting to him, or the hunger, or the frustration of how easily his brother slept beside him in their prison. He could live with that, though. He had lived through many a cold leaf-bare without anything to eat for days, but had always pulled through. And I'll pull through this, he told himself, because what was the difference between then and now?
Sadly, he knew the answer: StarClan.
Even in the worst of seasons, he'd always had his ancestors nearby, and he could see them just by lifting his head and looking into Silverpelt. In this stupid jail, all he ever saw was rock, ash, and lava. There were no stars to be seen.
On top of all of that, he hadn't even known this place existed. He had lived his entire life thinking that it was only StreamClan left, but one day, he was thrown into this mess. Now he knew the facts: not only was there one unknown Clan, but five.
Five groups of cats that he'd never even heard of. Five Clans forever battling it out, right under his nose. How can you not see five Clans? How is that even possible?
He sighed again and continued pacing.

Roantail sniffed the air, and small bits of ash fluttered near his nostrils. He didn't sneeze; he was used to it. He'd lived in BlazeClan since he was born, and this kind of thing never did bother him.
As he padded down the path, he saw Moltenfoot nearby. She was an interesting she-cat. She was loyal, he had to admit, but a fiery little thing, and he did his best to avoid her. His goal was to find Rustpaw and work on training, and he tried to rush past as quickly as he could, but then felt rude, and slowed his pace.
"Hello, Moltenfoot," he meowed. There were no "good mornings" in BlazeClan, or "good evenings' or anything, because these cats did not know of morning or evening; they had never seen the sun or the moon, except for the Sky Charter or on Eclipses during the sacrifice. Instead, it was just "hello" and "goodbye," if even that. Some BlazeClan cats were brusque and preferred to keep to themselves.
"Hello, Moltenfoot," he had said. "How are you today?" He did not ask for his apprentice, thinking it rude, and waited patiently for her to respond.

ooc: I don't want to role play the Eternal until I'm absolutely certain there's nothing wrong with it.

[Molten]

(( Whoa.. lol it might just be that i've wasted allot of my time roleplaying with il-literates but that took a long time to read xD ))
Molten wasn't confused about Roantail's words, not one bit. She had been born outside the volcano, unlike many others and knew about times of day, from when the sun arose, suspended in the air to that sad time when it set and night started, and the creepy night creatures came alive. "Hello..," Molten sighed, her voice breathy and whispy like thread. Her head felt heavy and her throat felt numb. She was guilty and didn't know why, since there was absolutely no reason to be guilty about her past. But she just was, which made her patience low. To calm her down, she looked at the watery lava rushing freely in front of her paws, glowing as brightly as a melted sun. It still amazed her to think of it this way, just as it always had. And it usually calmed her down. Too bad her family wasn't here to see it.
"Ugh," Molten sighed in her mind, "I just reminded myself of that thought again." She rubbed her head against the ground, as if burning the thought in her mind.

[Smokeleaf]

ooc: Haha that was probably the longest post I've ever written. Win! ( =

Roantail gulped and bowed his head, the tunnel filled with awkward tension. He wanted to leave, wanted to do something. He could go for a swim in the lava, and that would be better than forcing himself to talk to this temperamental she-cat. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, his paws held firm to the ground, and would do nothing but claw at the rock impatiently.
"Are you waiting on someone?" he meowed, trying to continue some kind of conversation. It made him feel uncomfortable to see her stare at the lava. Why was she so intent on watching it all the time? Perhaps it was because she was born an outsider; if Roantail saw the trees and grass he'd always heard about, maybe it would mystify him, too.
"If you are, maybe we could wait together. I don't suppose you know where Rustpaw is? Mousebrained apprentice. I guess they're all like that, though." He tried to purr, but it sounded more like he was choking. "Would you like to come look with me? You look awful lonesome, and I, personally, hate to be alone. There's safety in numbers, anyway; not that there's much danger here, but if one of us should slip into the lava, it would help to have somebody nearby to explain to the others what happened."
He was joking, of course. He prided himself on his subtle humor, even if some of the other cats didn't understand.


Rowanfur paced. And paced. And paced. There must be something he could do to ease his pain. It was so boring here! What did these cats do for fun, eat bugs? Back in StreamClan, there were always things going on. And whatever happened to those kits? How many were there; what were their names? He'd been convicted before they were even born, and now, he might never know. "Great StarClan!" he shouted furiously. Why did he have to be stuck here? Why couldn't they just kill him and put him out of his misery?
Because that would be the nice thing to do.


Ash fluttered down from the heavens, landing softly on his fur like falling snow. He'd never seen snow, of course, and didn't even know what it looked like. He'd never been outside the volcano. He couldn't risk it. The Flaming Eternal would be upset.
Silently, the great tomcat closed his violet eyes and lapped gently at his paw, turned gray from the debris. His pelt was gray anyway, except for the few patches of white here and there. His paws were white, too, and he was particularly fond of them. One paw was always smooth and clean and shiny. None of the others needed to be; one was all it took to prove his leadership.
Not that it needed proving. Mulberry eyes, white markings, his very name gave all the proof they needed. No cat would ever dare mess with him, not even those mousebrains in the other Clans. He was perfect, infallible, nearly divine.
Slowly, Eternalstorm rose.

[Molten]

Molten was strangely thankful for Roantail's presence. It distracted her from the unpleasant thoughts which were starting to flow through her head. "No...., Why would I be waiting on someone?" Molten asked, still with a weak voice. She coughed, clearing her throat, then stared into the lava a little more. It bubbled up, and heat rose above it like a plume of red steam. It started to burn Molten just being close to it. She looked away, into Roantail's direction. Red spots of light absorbed by Molten's eyes seem to cover him, but she closed her eyes and continued to listen to what the other Soul was saying. The light absorbed from her eyes was still visible, but she tried to ignore it. Then the tortiseshell she-cat opened her mouth to speak, her voice a little more normal. "No, I don't even know who Rustpaw is," she answered, and examined the lava some more; in a safer way. She closed her eyes, and the lava's light was trapped inside her eyes and displayed on her eyelids like a projector, so she could examine it without doing further damage to her already sore eyes. The image she saw was motionless. "That's cool.. I guess lava messes with your eyes a little," Molten thought. She didn't realize that she looked like such a fool, staring into her eyelids.

Rustpaw smelled his mentor nearby, so he ran in that direction. "Roantail! Look what I found!" he said with exitement, then let a scorched animal drop out of his mouth. It had decayed fast in the intense heat of the volcano, and by now its bones were showing. "This is a wierd thing! What is it?" Rustpaw asked, then playfully batted at the revealed skeleton of the animal with his paw.

[Smokeleaf]

roantail blinked. She doesn't know Rustpaw? he thought. She's been living here how long and she doesn't know her Clan mates? Does she even know my name? He shook the thought away and reminded himself to be kind. If he was forced into the open, he'd struggle, too. Maybe she just needed a little help.
"Here he is!" he purred, watching his apprentice bound toward him. "Molten, this is Rustpaw." He sat down and curled his tailover his paws, listening carefully to the young tom. Then, doing as he was asked, carefully studied the corpse.
"Er... I don't know," he muttered, ashamed that he couldn't help. Weren't mentors supposed to be omnipotent, or something? He'd always thought that of his mentor; of course, he never asked his mentor any bizarre questions. "It's got fur and bones though, so maybe it's a cat. A really small cat."
His eyes flickered away, and he briefly caught a glance at Molten. "What do you think it is?" he asked encouragingly. "You've seen this kind of thing before, haven't you? Don't the other Clans hunt it?"

Eternalstorm yawned and stretched out his hind legs. Here we go, he thought. It's the start of a new day. New things are going to happen. Another day, another...
Another nothing. Nothing ever happened here, and that was just the way he liked it. Controllable. The whole world was wrapped around his paw. He was responsible for every cat in almost every Clan, and he had finally grown to love his power.
He could do anything.
Anything, that is, except talk. He hadn't heard his own voice in who knows how long. He knew he could speak to a few cats--the Forsaken and his own Speaker--but he preferred not. Communication was the key to the soul, and Eternalstorm had some thoughts that were better left a secret. Like fear. While eclipses were rare, odds were he'd see at least one in his lifetime, and how could he be responsible for the death of another cat? Yes, yes, it was for the Flaming Eternal, it was their decision, but what if he was wrong? Couldn't the Flaming Eternal make a mistake once in a while?
No, he told himself. They are perfect. I am perfect. I have control.
He recited this whenever his thoughts began to wander, which they did often. The Flaming Eternal had everything under control, except maybe this 'StarClan' that the forest cats went on about. He'd never exactly talked to forest cats, unless they were held prisoner. He had two prisoners right now, come to think of it. He had tried to speak to them, but they would say nothing except "Great StarClan!" which told him they were not his to control. He let them be.

Rowanfur paced.
Then he circumnavigated the enclosure.
Then he calculated the circumfrence of the cave with his paws.
Then he paced some more.

ooc: Rowanfur is really boring. You can't do much in prison.
By the way, is it Molten or Moltenfoot? Which name would you rather I use for your character?

[Molten]

(( Whatever you want, Molten's just a little easier to type. I'll go with Molten I guess... ))
Molten opened her eyes and turned her head to face Rustpaw. She squinted so she could see him more clearly. The image of the lava was still in her mind but it was gradually fading, changing colors as it faded. Eventually she could see Rustpaw. "His pelt really fits his name," Molten meowed. She thought he was pretty cute, then noticed the little creature that dropped from his mouth. She leaned closer to examine it, then sniffed it. The scent of a rotting mole filled her nose. "That's a mole, I think," Molten said, confused. She looked at its face a little closer to make sure, and saw that wierd looking nose. "Yea, defiently a mole," Molten meowed, her voice more confident, "They have strange noses."

Rustpaw didn't even notice the shape of the mole's nose until it was pointed out. He stared at it and then said, "Whoa... that's ugly!" He flipped it over with his paw and saw its backbone sticking out. "Eww... what are white things?" he asked, staring hard.

[Smokeleaf]

So that's what a mole looks like! He'd heard of them before, but he had never seen one. It did have a peculiar nose, at least compared to that of a cat. Did everything out there have such strange sniffers? Or look so genuinely... odd?
After listening to the apprentice's new question, he stammered a bit before replying, "I think its decomposing... right?" He glanced over at the she-cat, unsure. He had only seen decomposition once before, with the death of a Pelt no one really liked. He couldn't remember his name--Roantail was only a kit at the time--but it had been a long time before anyone had gotten around to putting him in the lava. By the time of his 'ceremony,' he was pretty disfigured; it was so horrible a sight, Roantail couldn't even bear think of it now. What he did dare to remember looked very similar to how this 'mole' looked now.

[Molten]

Molten noticed Roantail look over at her. He had a confused look. "Yea, its decomposing. Gross, right?" she answered that look, "Thats what's inside your body."

Rustpaw shuddered in disgust. "Your lying aren't you!?" He strongly wished the answer was yes, because he thought there was no way so much soot and dust and 'white stuff' could be in your body. But then he thought about it, which is usually rare because he lets others think for him. And it seemed pretty real, but the thing is that this strange creature didn't even look like it was from this world.
"Eww! And I put that in my mouth?" Rustpaw said without an answer. He didn't need one. Sadly he thought about the dust that was probably inside his body right now. He was about to ask if he has that much dust and soot inside of him.

[Smokeleaf]

Roantail shuddered. Death. He didn't like to see it. Fortunately, death was rare in BlazeClan. They never fought, never hunt, and very rarely did a cat become sick. At least, he didn't think so. Maybe in the other Clans, where the ash wasn't nearly as thick, they lived hundreds and hundreds of years. Maybe when the soot didn't fill your lungs, you could live forever.
He didn't exactly know how long a year was, or how it could even compare to forever, but he did know that it was a very long time.
"Come on, Rustpaw," he mewed, desperate to change the subject. "Let's go work on our training." He glanced over at Molten and bowed his head respectfully. "We'll see you around later. Unless, of course, you'd like to join us."

[Molten]

"Nah, it's okay..." Molten said, inspecting the dead mole, "I'm gonna check if this mole has any meat left on it."

Rustpaw eyed Molten's burnt foot before walking away for his training. "Oh, she's not lying..." he said, since her foot looked a little gross from being burned by lava. He turned to his mentor. "Roantail!! How did Molten hurt her foot so badly!?" he asked, as if Roantail knew all of Molten's past, although he probably didn't. Rustpaw could se a bit of the little finger bones on Molten's foot, because her skin was so thin there. It looked a bit like a pale person's hand. He felt her paw with his whiskers. "What happened?"

Molten's eyes turned to slit. "It's better for you not to know," she answered. She suddenly felt scarier, and Rustpaw didn't like it one bit.

[Smokeleaf]

Roantail shivered, afraid. This wasn't good. Please don't irritate her! he pleaded silently. He might not have known this cat for very long, but one thing he did know was that she had a fiery temper--even more so than the volcano. In fact, her temper just about matched her fur: red, sparatic, and as fearsome as... He couldn't think of a word to finish the analogy. That was how intimidating she seemed.
"I think it's best if we go..." he mumbled, but he wasn't at all forceful, and even his paws felt rooted to the spot, which was quite an interesting feeling, seeing as he'd never seen roots, and didn't know what they did, so perhaps it was better to say they were melted to the spot. Melting, he knew quite well.

[Molten]

(( Lol that post just made meh day... err... night xD Tommorow's day xD Uhh... lol! ))

"L-lets g-go-oo," Rustpaw said, voice quivering and his paw pads were sweating. It made each step seem wet, as if there was a layer of water under the ash. Molten intimidated him too much. As he walked away, he quietly whispered to his mentor, "How come she got so angry?" He was impatient, because he didn't get any good answers to his questions.

Molten grunted under her breath, and watched Rustpaw's back legs quickly scamper away. The sight of his paws sinking into the soot like quicksand was calming. But why couldn't some cats mind their own buisness, expecially when asking a question about something she has been trying hard to forget? Molten was not only guilty but emberrassed. She let a sigh escape from her throat, then coughed a bit. Dust flared from her nostrils. Her lungs were not yet used to the dust and ash in the air. She angrily coughed more and more, then just scraped her nose with her paw. "Stupid air here," she grumbled, "Why can't my life be simpler?" But then again, life was as simple as she deserved it. Molten was a criminal anyway.

[Nightpool]

"You have GOT to be kidding me!"

Goldfire blinked slowly at his former apprentice. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Fireflower shook her head slowly, uneasily."First," she started out, "you teach yourself to kill small animals that come down here, that apparently the other clans eat. Second, you teach me how to 'hunt', even though there's no need. I mean, we've been leaving the 'prey' lying around everywhere; I'm surprised that no one's found any of the decaying pieces by now. And now..." she shook her head again, this time much more decisively. "You find a way to sneak into the prison. And you want me to give this 'fresh-kill' to the prisoners to survive?" she spoke slowly around the new words, but retained an incredulous voice.

Goldfire merely gave a quick nod, and a look that said, My instruction are simple. Why haven't you carried them out?

Fireflower was confused here. "But...the Eternal wants the prisoners to die." he nodded. "So we're helping them survive?" Another nod.

Fireflower stared at him for a long moment. The Eternal didn't want any prisoners to survive, so it had to be the will of the Flaming Eternal. However, Goldfire wanted the prisoners fed, which led to them surviving. Fireflower wasn't a fan of death...but she still would have left these cats to die, except for one reason: Goldfire. Something about the cat made her trust him, made her think that he was always right, that the Eternal and Flaming Eternal would forgive her...

Finally, Fireflower nodded. "Very well. If you want me to feed these prisoners, then I will." She picked up the mole they had hunted earlier and flicked her tail toward a nearby tunnel. "You say that if I follow this tunnel I'll come out in the bottom of the prison?"

Goldfire gave a dreamy nod; he was watching the lava again. Fireflower dipped her head to him and murmured, "I hope you now what your doing..." before setting off down the tunnel.

[/size]

[Molten]

Rustpaw trotted up to Goldfire, his tiny paws making tiny thuds against the ground. Dust flew up and floated around once it reached the air. Rustpaw sniffed Goldur's fur curiously. "Have I met you before..?" he asked, trying to decide whether this cat's scent was familiar or not. He had confusion in both his eyes, body language and voice. He wasn't sure who this Pelt was. Maybe Rustpaw couldn've seen him before? Then he turned his head to Fireflower. He slightly krept closer and sniffed her as well. "Err... I don't think I met either of you, but I'm not sure,' Rustpaw meowed, "Did you ever see me as a kit before or something?'"

Rustpaw thought he knew every cat in the Clan. He didn't notice that it seemed odd asking Pelts he may or may not know, because it may result in an odd response. If only he asked his mentor who they were instead...