#goldenshade

[uniworu]

klapollo cats now featuring trucy and kristoph

[heepthecheep]

My predictions for new warrior names

(realistic guess/what I'd name them if where an Erin Hunter)

Goldenpaw- Goldenheart/Goldenshade

Shinepaw- Shinewing/Shinefire (don't come for me it'd be funny)

Moonpaw- Moonfall/Moonfrost

Oakkit- Oakleaf/Oakbranch

Sunkit- Sunshine/Sunblaze

Hazelkit- Hazelfur/Hazelstep

Redpaw- Redclaw/Redhawk

Sprucepaw- Sprucetail/Spruceneedle

Quickkit- Quickleap/Quickstorm

Beechkit- Beechbark/Beechsmoke

Poolkit- Poolshine/Poolsplash

Robinkit- Robinflight/Robinspring

Starlingkit- Starlingwing/Starlingsong

Silkypaw- Silkywhisker/Silkycloud

Fluffpaw- Fluffpelt/ Fluffstrike

Rustlekit- Rustleleaf/Rustlegrass

Stretchkit- Stretchfoot/Stretchbelly

Heronkit- Heronstream/Heroneye

Eelkit- Eelstripe/Eelpuddle

[thepotatopizza]

Goldenshade: the cursed she-cat

[skyscratch-wc]

"Golden-" won the prefix poll -- what's a good suffix for a renamed Tigerheart?

If you have other ideas feel free to comment/tag them :)

[runaway-art]

[bestartdealswork]

Flying group of birds and golden shade mountains landscape framed painting pic abstract canvas art print. High quality canvas print. To know more about this artwork, please search our store the SKU code:  BADWAN1CP1767

[lobanorg-blog]

Animal 2jfdhjjj - #tb to when I was this tiny little gold nugget. 🌟 . . . #cats #catstocker #catsofinstagram #goldenshaded #britishlonghair #kittensofinstagram #kittens #humor_bulen @humor_bulen from @madfluffs

[kangrhia-fashion]

Buddha-Sharnam Golden dust Lord bhudha design on black T-shirt for men's.

[abdullahsingapuri-blog]

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[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Applecreek 

Aliases / Nicknames: Bestie, Johnny Appleseed, Applejack 

Gender: intersex trans tom 

Sexuality: polysexual, biromantic 

Family: Petalnose (mother), Goldenshade (father), Mapleheart (sister), Stormberry, Icefeather (brothers) 

Other Relations: Sparkwhisker (mentor), Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, Cedarmoon (best friends/crushes) 

Clan: Treeclan 

Rank: warrior, loner 

Characteristics: kills to impress crushes, goofy, reckless, loves pulling off pranks, skilled at growing plants 

Number of Victims: 15 

Number of Murders: 5 

Murder Method: placing large amounts of apple seeds in fresh-kill 

Known Victims: Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, Cedarmoon, Sparrowthroat, Seedclaw (killed), Basiltail, Darkpetal, Feathertuft, Thornbreeze, Redbelly, Gorsepounce, Brindledusk, Crookedeye, Juniperstripe, Lizardleaf (poisoned) 

Victim Profile: best friends/crushes, senior warriors who his crushes disliked, other senior warriors (accidentally), elders (accidentally) 

Cause of Death: decapitated by falling tree branch 

Cautionary Tale: N/A

Story: 

Applecreek was a normal cat for most of his life. He was a skilled tracker with a keen knack for sniffing out plants. He had a fondness for the fruit he was named after in particular, and even figured out how to grow apple trees. He was a good son, a good brother, a good apprentice, and a devoted friend. Maybe a little too devoted of a friend.

Applecreek, Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon had been as thick as thieves from the ripe age of one moon old. They were almost never seen apart, and they only seemed to grow closer as they grew older. This was especially true for Applecreek, who eventually developed crushes on his three friends-- crushes that were incredibly obvious to every cat in all five Clans except for the actual objects of Applecreek's affection. 

He tried so hard to show them his true feelings. The idea of growing apple trees originally came about as an idea to impress them. Again and again, Applecreek tried to show how he felt, with almost no success.

These hapless attempts of trying to impress Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon often came at the expense of their Clanmates, who Applecreek would prank in hopes of seeing his friends laugh. Most of the time, it was brushed off, as the targeted Clanmate simply stared at Applecreek with pity and sympathy. 

But with how hard Applecreek tried, he was bound to go too far eventually.

Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon had been complaining about Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw, two older warriors, constantly interrupting all of their games. Naturally, Applecreek felt that the perfect solution to this was a good old prank. Maybe this would be the one that got his friends to notice him!

He knew apple seeds were quite bitter, so he tore down all of the fruit he had grown that season, tore out their seeds, and stuffed as many seeds as he could in as many pieces of fresh-kill as possible. Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw were bound to eat at least one, and the disgusted expressions on their faces as they tried to remove the taste of the seeds from their mouths would be priceless!

Applecreek went to sleep that night feeling excited about tomorrow. He woke up the next morning to the sound of multiple cats throwing up just outside of the warriors' den. Snickering, he stepped outside to see Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw's reactions... only to see that it wasn't them vomiting. 

It was Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon. Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw were instead lying in the middle of camp, vomit caking their mouths, their eyes glazed over, and their families sobbing over their lifeless corpses.

Horrified, Applecreek guided his friends into the medicine den. But it was too late. Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, and Cedarmoon soon began having violent seizures, and in mere minute-long intervals, they passed away one by one.

Applecreek had only just let out his caterwaul of pure grief when unsheathed claws cuffed his shoulder. He whirled around to see the deputy--Sparrowthroat-- and Seedclaw's sister, Hawkbush, her teeth bared and her face tearstained. She screamed that Applecreek was a murderer, that she should kill him right there and then.

The only reason why Hawkbush didn't kill Applecreek right then and there was the timely intervention of the leader, Wheatstar. Wheatstar did, however, sadly inform Applecreek that he would have to be exiled. He knew that Applecreek hadn't meant any real harm, but the harm he had done would almost certainly bring doom to nearly half of the Clan. 

When Applecreek demanded to know what Wheatstar meant by that, the leader flicked his tail outside of the medicine den. Poking his head out, Applecreek saw almost all of the senior warriors and even a few of the elders staggering around shakily, vomiting, clutching their heads in pain, panting, and overall suffering... suffering because of him.

Applecreek didn't need to be told twice. He ran out of camp and never looked back. He spent the rest of his life a wandering loner. Other loners, rogues, and kittypets spoke in hushed whispers of the cat they called Johnny Appleseed, of how he did his best to spread seeds throughout the land, but strangely avoided apples and apple trees.

More than that, they spoke of the way he always seemed to be crying, how he always seemed to be muttering the names "Liondust, Kestrelwhisper, Cedarmoon" under his breath over and over, and how, when threatened, he always just stood there, as if waiting for them to give him what he deserved. 

He did this even as the apple branch splintered off of the tree, falling down and cleaving right through his neck.

Additional Information:

--Submission by @starfalcon555​

--As you can tell by the last paragraph, this guy is loosely based on the folklore tale of Johnny Appleseed!

--The other cats that fell victim to apple seed-induced cyanide poisoning were cured by the combined efforts of all of the medicine cats, hence why Applecreek only has five murders under his belt.

--I feel like this guy would be besties with Fleathistle and Fadingstar for obvious reasons, lol

--With the deaths of Sparrowthroat and Seedclaw, Hawkbush is the only surviving kit of Snailstar. Snailstar and their family just keep going through it, huh?

--Hawkbush does eventually become Hawkstar, though! So that's a plus :D

[dreamingofbeans]

Warrior cat art attacks!!

I'm having way too much with art fight...

@itsmepine 's TornFeather

DontSunny's SnowPaw and CherryPaw ❤ ❤ I love them

Pleasentcalli's (above:) CopperLeaf and (below:) WhiteStripe

Cloudpawthecotten's SilverStorm and SnokePaw!

_pixeldreams_'s MorningDove and GoldenShade

_mxlione's GingerFeather

Shxdxw's HoneyGaze and BlueberryBurst

@bakerinator 's Birch and FoxSpirit ❤

[thepotatopizza]

More warriors OCs: Goldenshade, Snakebite, Papersnout

[felilandcattery]

Periwinkle #feliland #felilandcattery #britishshorthair #goldenshaded #kittens #kittensofinstagram #kittens_today #california #texas #newyork #boston #chicago (at Melbourne, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/BtL-SViDNoD/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=lyj1z0qwjui3

[runaway-art]

[thepilgrimofwar]

Purgatory

It was said that she would be found in the furthest reaches of the South. Far beyond where the long arms of Imperial law could reach. In the lands of Warlords, squabbling over what blighted land they could call theirs if they spilled enough blood on it. 

It was said it was a living nightmare, over there. Where the Phoenix Wars did not end, but continued in miniature. Banners still marched against each other leaving in their wake wastelands of an already wounded land. Where remnants of the Black Bloods drifted out at night like specters over the battlefields, feasting upon the dead.

It was said. That she had gone there to punish herself. 

For the South had become a war scarred hellscape. A fitting purgatory of her own design. The perfect place to bring to an end a life devoted to war.

Beathyn stalked the trenches of an old battlefield that bore no name. It did once, but as the battles here overlapped over and over, it had become a desolate space. Stripped of its meaning by endless earthworks and the bodies of those who built them.

He asked the soldiers around him where he might find her and was met with shrugs. To them, she was just another face in a sea of strangers that came and went from this place as they pleased- when their Lord had paid or failed to pay them.

The agent of the Emberhearts, hugged his shotgun close to his chest, cradling it underneath a water-treated cloak to keep out the damp. He hoped he didn’t have to use it. Crossing paths with a contingent of pikemen, destined to some distant flank, he managed to catch wind of a woman of her description. A Lady of War.

She sat lazily upon the side of a battered barricade, smashed long ago by cannon fire. It gave her a commanding view of the unearthed no-man’s land before her. A cigar between her lips, and elbows resting on the ground. Beathyn approached from incline behind her, looking out at the trenches opposite to theirs.

“Strange choice for retirement,” he said, shotgun still clutched to his chest. “Highdawn.”

“The North despises me and my People reject me,” is the honest answer that rumbles out over the expanse - still managing to project like the same ghosts of artillery fire around them, even when she is so low and her lungs constrained by her own weight.

“This is the closest I can settle Home while keeping peace.” How odd, that the bloodmonger still prizes such a thing. Then she pauses, a long flick of her ear swishing out like some annoyed beast, “It gives those that still follow something to feed on.” Is that irritation chilling the femininity of her voice towards the need of conflict, or that even after all of this, there are dozens with feveret loyalty to her?

“If someone Northern was going to find me, I was thinking it would be Flamethorn or Islesun.” Objective and punitive, but somehow lacking in genuine hostility, the words march out from her lips, “You have no bond to me.” 

The unspoken followup of ‘So why are you here?’ pulses out in a breath of smoke that dissipates into already acrid air.

Beathyn is almost transfixed by the image of her. Comfortable. In her element. Like a living spirit of the wardead. He then settles into a crouch next to her, letting the wisps of smoke dance round him before he made his reply.

“The Emberhearts send their regards,” he said, as if it explained everything. He reached into his vest pocket and produced a folded envelope marked with the wax seal of her friend’s house. It almost seemed too official for the whiskey loving, food gorging man that she was familiar with.

When opened, it bore the words of Solendis Emberheart. Words of thanks. An invitation for a funeral, in honor of Sederis’ memory.

“I guess you could say I’m their mailman of sorts,” Beathyn pulled his cloak over his shoulder and tucked his shotgun underneath his arm as he relaxed. “A really heavily armed mailman who’s been tracking down Quel’thalas’ most dangerous killers- Because apparently that’s the sort that’s drawn to Sederis-” he looked at Thanidiel and gauged her reaction, glancing at her eye patch and her dour expression. “No offense of course.”

“He was deathseeking and I am bloodseeking, maybe he was hoping I’d turn around and kill him at some point for being too slow or too philosophical.” Is that a joke? It is difficult to interpret such things from her through the lenses of an almost-stranger; everything she verbalises is strained like teeth brandished behind a muzzle. She reaches out after that, plucking the letter out of his hand between two fingers and seamlessly breaking the seal.

“Who else have you played courier for? I will assume many - you approach Eastweald at this rate, there would be no others of the Sunguard aside from Emberfall and Novastorms.” Then her ear flicks again as she pulls her fingers around the strap of that eyepatch and pulls it down to unveil the magicked and blue eye; just a shiver slower in its rotation to the one alight of felfire. 

“Why am I going to a funeral? Emberheart’s blood succeeded there, between that and me assuring the survival of Goldenshade, my honor to him is resolved.” She looks over the blackened battlefield - as though able to see cadres of men miles beyond that he could not.

“You can take the Crows back to Lirelle if you wish.”

“Well,” Beathyn shrugged, “it’s an invitation. Accept it, reject it, go- don’t go- I leave that up to you.” The courier didn’t seem too bothered by her mannerisms. The agent seemed used to the abuses- either that or he wasn’t too invested in who came to the funeral.

He pauses for a moment before rattling off the names of the attendees, ones by one, most of them delivered to an address or left with a house servant. Apart from a few superiors, the rest were familiar names from the Guard. Leaving out all but one.

“As for the Crows,” he says at last. Rising to his feet and shouldering his weapon. “You should take them yourself. Lirelle will be there.”

--

Art by Michael Kutsche

@retributionpriest​ @thanidiel​ @stormandozone​

[anm85-blog1]

Happy Dhanteras 🙏..Gold shade to boost the festive mood.. #happydhanteras #festivemood #goldenshade