L E A D E R A U D I T I O N S

[Tay]

Since the leader of SilentClan seems to be a popular position, I've decided to host an audition of sorts for the position - may the best man win! [:

This isn't a huge, drawn-out audition - I just want a single, well-thought-out roleplay post from you. It must be in the cat you plan on using as leader if you get the position - I want to get a feel for how you'd play the position. Once all entries are submitted, we'll have a forum-wide vote to allow the members decide who should be the leader of SilentClan. You're allowed to vote for anyone you like, be it yourself or others - I only ask that you vote for who you legitimately think has done the best job. Well, that's all - I look forward to seeing all of your posts! <3


* EDIT: This thread will be locked tomorrow at noon (EST)! After that, the poll will be put up for five days, & will be closed on August 10th at noon. [: After that, roleplay will officially start!

[Tigress]

silence. it was quite beautiful; the light dusting of snow painted across the canvas of terrain, which was only the start of the harsh blizzards to come. camp itself was still, the distant sun creating a million glistening diamonds across the sea of hills. a single arctic fox skittered across the geode, his sleek, alabaster robes ruffled against the wind. hunger rumbled in his belly, the same sensation that was waking the ranks of silentclan.

the tom's lids fluttered open, a hazy image of the snoring warriors slowly becoming visible. although reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort of his nest, ashwing forced himself to his paws. as usual, he followed the morning routine; yawn, stretch limbs, shake peat moss from pelt, head outside. his pigmented nose twitched, reading the familiar scents of comrades and frost. the feline trudged over to the fresh kill pile, which consisted of a few lemmings and voles. knowing better than to take some for himself, he slunk through the dark tunnel that slithered out of camp.

to some the tundra was a death wish; leave and you'll never come back. but that wasn't the case for ashwing- he knew a majority of the territory (well, you might call it that) like the back of his paw. he lowered his muscled bodice to ground below, listening intently for the muffled sound of scurrying mice and voles. it seemed like it would take until new-leaf to catch something, until... the warrior's harks swiveled. nothing? then he heard it again. the tip of his tail flitted back and forth intently, muscles tensing and preparing.

suddenly, he sprang forward, his forepaws sinking into the flank-deep snow. a small rodent squirmed under his weight, lashing back and forth. he bit it's neck with a swift expertise before lifting it's now limp body into his jaws. a plump mouse. "yuh-m," he sounded muffled with the fur in his mouth. satisfied, and knowing it would feed a hungry queen or kit, he headed off to hunt more.

after catching a scrawny lemming he headed back to camp. by the time he had returned, the fresh kill pile was hardly any bigger. proudly placing his prizes on top, he took a day-old, half frozen vole for himself. a boulder jutted upwards in the middle of camp, resembling the main eating and socializing area. the tom bit into the flesh, savoring every bite. once finished and after disposing of the scraps, he awaited for orders from thistleheart. ashwing always liked orders and took them to heart.

"huh?" he turned around quickly, wondering what had latched onto his tail. "your it!" a small kit squealed with glee, prancing away to her littermates. ah, kits and their games. moments later a queen appeared, hissing at her kits that it was too cold out for them to be romping around. he sighed as a flood of memories filled his head. there's no time to live in the past! as for the present... there was no leader. his claws unsheathed, digging into the moist ground, as he normally did when deep in thought. a clan was weak and lost without a leader- they were falling apart, and quarrels were becoming oh-so often. the tom was one of the senior warriors, and perhaps that gave him an advantage...

even as a kit he dreamed of being the leader. but really, it was nothing more than a dream. now it was reality.

starring : ashwing
words : 571
status : finished
notes : hope you don't mind the template
lyrics used : use somebody - kings of leon
listening to : your man - down with webster
banner credit : tana
tagged : tana

[cedar]

the night air was still, warm, and there was a slight breeze going on. the small tabby was padding through the rock, head down. it wasn't often that the feline was in a slump like this, but for once, she didn't know what to do, and was scared to rush into things. for one, there were a few cats who were starting to get a bit... edgy. she feared that "it" might happen again, and she didn't know what to do about it. it wasn't even winter yet, but a few of the cats in the clan were becoming distant. and on top of that, earthsong was fighting with her mate. froststar sighed. she hated when her sister was upset, and it killed her to see her like this. she clawed at the earth, feeling powerless.

she yowled out in frustration and made deep indents in the earth. she was a leader - she was supposed to know how to handle things like this. what kind of leader would she be if she couldn't even manage to stop her clan from tearing itself apart? she sighed and sat down. the night sky was beginning to get dark, and the stars came out. "starclan, help me. i don't know what to do," she meowed softly.

the wind was beginning to pick up, so froststar decided that she should be heading off about now. she picked herself up and began to walk back to camp. the walk was long, and she couldn't imagine that anyone who wasn't from around here could make it. but within a matter on minutes she was already close to home, and she was happy. almost as soon as she entered camp she was bombarded by kits who were playing, and running around. she purred at them and leaned down to lick her brother's kit, ashkit. he meowed happily and then bounded off to play with the other kits. froststar's heart ached.

what if the cold took them too.

[Ember]

"SquaaaaaaaacccckkkkkKK!" An ear-splitting warning call from a bird rang out through the tundra, causing the hair on Emberfall's neck and tail to stand straight up, his blood turning to ice. The rabbit he had been stalking darted into it's ice burrow, leaving the calico tom frustrated and hungry.
He glared upwards, trying to find the source of the bird call. What he saw was a small bird, hovering over her nest protectively. "I wasn't even going after your nest, bird brain!" He hissed fiercely, lashing his tail. He lingered there for a few moments, not wanting to let go of his anger. Finally he let out a sigh and turned around, stalking back to camp with only a couple mice.
He set them gingerly into the fresh-kill pile, not taking anything for himself. He didn't feel like he'd caught enough to be able to take something. And so, he just padded over to the warrior's den to sit and meditate. His bright amber gaze swept over camp, studying each cat in turn. Deep within himself he felt a responsibility for those cats... like each and every one of them was his kin. He wanted to serve them in any way possible. The simplest one he had found was hunting, though in this cold, icy climate there wasn't all that much prey to be found. Plus, annoying obstacles such as overly protective mother birds kept getting in the way. He wished there was something more he could do for them.
His clan needed a leader.
I could be that leader.... He thought to himself, glancing around nervously, as if just thinking something like that might be a crime. But then again, he wouldn't have to betray anyone, he wouldn't have to kill anyone; he had completely innocent intentions with this. He wrapped his tail around himself and shuffled his paws nervously. How was one supposed to go about becoming a leader? Well, usually they became the deputy. Why is Thistleheart not the leader now? He questioned inside his mind. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe he was meant to be leader.
He shook his head slightly, wanting to clear all of these thoughts. He did not want to become too ambitious. He knew from the tales of his ancestors that things never ended well for cats like that. He would probably end up doing his clan more harm than good, and that would defeat the entire purpose of his thoughts.
Once again he stood up, stretching his back into an arch, fur standing up slightly but then going right back down in the smooth way he liked his fur to be. If Starclan wanted him to lead his clan, then they would send the medicine cat a sign. And so, that was where he left it. Starclan's will.