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The sun still had yet to climb its way into full view. And Winterbrook had already begun... To, well, brood. Brood was a simple term for the current action of hating his past. The tom, his pelt of pure white, sauntered through the territory of Springclan, having no real destination in mind. So, it came as a surprise when he found himself at the edge of the abandoned garden. On the border where grass and sand met, Winterbrook looked down, breaking his turmoiling train of thought for a moment to register what he was seeing and where he was. After a few moments of gazing downward at the starkly different terrains, he let out a quiet sneer, muzzling twisting ever-so-slightly to the left as he expressed his cynical surprise. "Funny. Very funny." He murmured, finally stepping into the garden and continuing his pointless walk. He eventually stopped at the edge of the pond, looking into it for life that he knew wasn't there.
It was his upbringing that was on his mind. His origins, considered disgusting by many, he was sure. Cats of kittypet blood clearly weren't strangers to many of the Clans here. But it didn't make the feeling of being different any easier. He first came from a home where looking your best meant you were being your best. Take pride in your appearance, and don't let them know you're hurting, no matter how they view you. It always came as a surprise to him when thinking about how his parents met, and how they tolerated one another, being so different.
Ridiculous.
((This could go anywhere, really. This doesn't need to be an emotional RP, it could just as quickly turn into something light-hearted or action oriented if anyone wants. I just wanted to get an RP thread of my own up!))
(I want to make the time frame of this meeting prior to the Spring Equinox event if you don't mind! It'll make Thistlestar's entrance make sense.)
His mind was clouded, far too clouded from paying attention to where he was going, but thanks to a well built habit, the tom's paws lead him to his destination without him really having to think much about it. It wasn't uncommon for the Springclan leader to be up far too early for his own good, but when it did happen, it often happened for one reason only; there was too much on his mind. With the impending picnic with Summerclan, his young family on a growth spurt, and the unsettling ending to his friendship with Dovewish, Thistlestar's mind was on over drive. The only place he knew he could clear his mind and find answers was the Japanese Gardens. It was a sacred place for Springclan and a secret from other clans. It was the place Thistlestar and many other Springclan leaders of the past received their nine lives. It was the place a sanctuary for Thistlestar that granted him safe passage to bare his soul when he most needed cleansing and guidance. To say the the leader was spiritual was an understatement. Despite not vocalizing it often, Thistlestar was strong in his faith in Starclan and often sought solace and guidance in stars above, but when the stars were gone, the next closest perch to Starclan was the Japanese Gardens.
The abandoned gardens was often empty. The rules to hunt here were strictly enforced so few cats wandered in. Thistlestar knew that the likelihood of another being here was slim to none, giving him the confidence to step into the small clearing of the garden with no hesitation or reservation, so it came as a surprise to the leader when he entered the clearing only to find a familiar sight of a bright, long white pelt.
"Winterbrook." Thistlestar spoke calmly, though his words held a trace of curiosity as he stepped forward, his deep green orbs unmoving as they locked onto the warrior. He was a recent addition to the clan. Little was truly known of the tom when he joined Springclan aside from the fact that he had kittypet roots. Springclan was known to the other clans for being rather open to accepting cats with no roots to Springclan, so the addition of rouges, loners and kittypets was not a surprise to current members, but it still sparked curiosity and of course, the initial wave of uncertainty and mistrust. Thistlestar didn't know exactly what prompted the warrior to come to the Japanese Garden, especially so early, but the leader had good faith that everything happens for a reason.
"Good morning." His words came out in a overwhelming deep, yet smooth voice that was strong yet stable. "How did sleep?" He asked as he made his way to the tom's side, sitting back slowly at the edge of the pond, his naturally stern expression some what softened as he inquired on the warrior's well being.
(That's fine with me. I still need to catch up on the events, cultures, and other details of each Clan, so I haven't familiarized myself with the Spring Equinox yet. I'm pretty new to this revamped Clans 2 site!)
The approach of another cat vaguely registered, but only a bit. So when Thistlestar spoke, it came as a surprise to him. Trying his best to act as if he wasn't surprised, Winterbrook trained his wide-eyed gaze on his leader. Not having expected anyone to show up, much less Thistlestar, he was caught off guard and unsure of what to say. Finding his voice, Winterbrook curtly dipped his head in greeting and respect. He had seen other Clan cats do the same, and regardless, it seemed right when addressing such a high ranking cat. It felt a bit stiff, but he was sure he'd get used to it the longer he lived within Springclan. "Er, yes. Good morning, Thistlestar. I slept fine, thank you. I trust you did as well?" There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, and reading the emerald eyes of Thistlestar, the leader sensed wondering as to why he decided to visit the Japanese Garden. Perhaps an explanation was in order, but Winterbrook knew it could wait until the formalities were exchanged. Or until Thistlestar decided to ask. Out of past interactions, those with the higher ranking individuals within Springclan had all more or less been pleasant. Though, he still had yet to believe he'd been fully accepted by most. And it would be hard, considering he had the tendency to take too many things personally.
Thistlestar nodded, his gaze falling back to the serene pond before him, staring out into the water at nothing in particular. "I slept enough." He admitted calmly, smiling softly to himself as he peered into the still water. There was something calming about seeing the stillness of the pond. Thistlestar could feel his mind numb to the hypnotic sight. "Did anyone ever tell you about this place, aside from the rule against hunting here?" Thistlestar inquired curiously, his sharp gaze returning to the white tom.
The question made Winterbrook believe it may have been more than a coincidence that brought him here. There was disquiet in his soul, yes, but... Something, some force here in the garden urged him to calm down. The least he could do was let that whisper of peace blow through him. He could worry the rest of the day, but while in the Japanese Garden, Winterbrook caught a break. Feeling the sand beneath his paws, he pushed more weight on each one in turn. The cool, gritty texture rose in between his toes. As he did this, it almost felt as if his anxieties melted from his paws and into the ground below.
"No. I haven't been told much about this place." Winterbrook answered, looking up from where his paws where now half buried and at Thistlestar.
As the warrior's gaze met his own, Thistlestar offered a small hint of a smile, before his expression melted back to its signature stern expression. "When the first Springclan cats settled in this land, they scouted around to claim as much of the rich territory as they could." The words flowed smoothly from the leader's voice as his natural ability for story telling began to front. " It was said that the first medicine cat was out in hunt of herbs. They said it felt like a tug at their soul, coaxing them with the faintest sounds of a call. It was then they discovered this garden-" Thistlestar took a large look around the clearing, his narrowed gaze softening as he took in the peacefulness of the garden. There was serenity that wrapped around the leader as he recounted the tale, like a warm, approving embrace. It made him smile.
"As you've learned, we put our beliefs, hopes and dreams into Starclan." There was a quiet confidence in the words that placed a new level of strength in the statement which visibly made the leader straighten up more than his already pristine posture was. Thistlestar sought great pride in his faith, though it was seldom vocalized or shown to others. It was in small moments like these that the magnitude of the leader's faith was shown.
"We believe that the spirits of those of the past watch over us and guide us in our journey to who we will become and the role we will play in the lives of those around us." He proceeded calmly "Their guidance is rarely seen with the naked eye; it is instead felt and heard in the soul, if one is open to listen, but there are exceptions." He turned back down to the water's edge, taking in the dark, endless pool thoughtfully. "There are sacred landmarks where few, chosen cats may connect directly to our ancestors; landmarks like these are sacred to clan cats, landmarks like this one-" Thistlestar gazed ahead of the gardens, taking in the earth covered two-leg build and mossy stones that were sprinkled around the pond. "That is why there are strict rules here, for not only the protection of this sacred land, but for the respect of our ancestors and the bridge they use to connect to us."
Hearing Thistlestar explain the importance of this land, the white tom felt somewhat like a kit listening to a bedtime story. It was a very odd sensation, though he took the leader's words seriously. So, this garden was spiritually significant, huh? It made sense. And he supposed that there was now some logic paired to the tugging Winterbrook had felt to come here. Well... More like strange coincidence. But he couldn't deny the serenity that now filled him, from his ears to the tip of his fluffy tail. Serenity and... Questions. Questions that Thistlestar may have an answer to.
Winterbrook rose to his paws, now beginning to slowly wander off to the left. Not far, and at a very sluggish pace. It looked as if he had delved very deep into his own thoughts, as his pale yellow gaze drifted from place to place. He saw things that were not physically there; things that only his memories projected. "Thistlestar..." He eventually began. "Do the spirits of Starclan accept non-Clan cats into their ranks? Such as loners? Rouges?" As he asked, Winterbrook's voice was calm, though the curiosity was undeniable, "... Kittypets?" He then turned a bit to look at Thistlestar." Say you were the mate of a Clan cat. One that did believe in Starclan, one that would really want her mate to spend his celestial life roaming the starry hunting grounds above. You think the mate of that Clan cat would make it to Starclan?"
He had many more questions. One of them being about the city he could see from Springclan's eastern border. Winterbrook had spent a few nights looking out at that distant mass of buildings, wondering what might be in store for him there. For whatever reason, he felt as if there was a discovery to be made for him, and him alone. But, being loyal to Springclan, and not wanting Thistlestar to lose whatever trust he may have had in him, Winterbrook was hesitant to ask about the city. Perhaps there would be another cat more suitable for that question...
Thistlestar watched thoughtfully as the warrior rose to his paws, his expression conflicted and eyes lost in deep thought. He could tell there was a lot on the tom's mind, but the Leader was patient as we watched Winterbrook pace off to the side. The two were left in what felt like the longest moment of silence before Winterbrook finally spoke up. The question was an interesting one, but not one that came as a surprise to the Leader. Springclan was one of the more accepting clans, especially to those born outside of the clan. He had accepting many non-clan cats into Springclan himself as leader, including his own mate. The question was not new to his ears.
"Starclan does not discriminate by the type of blood that runs through your veins," Thistlestar meowed, a small smile growing at the edges of his expression. "They accept any cat who lives an honorable life and followed the warrior code." The dark-faced leader watched the conflicted warrior, whose yellow gaze remained clouded with either conflicting emotions or more questions. Regardless of which, Thistlestar sat patiently, awaiting the warrior's next move...
