Ok...it felt kind of nice to NOT write 2020 LMAO. Welcome to 2021! To kick off the brand new year, we're introducing a round of updates, including new bio and forbidden romance rules, our Secret Santa reveal, OTM winners and nominations, our monthly patrols, and a fun new infectious disease! So make sure to check out the January Announcements for all of the new content! As we leave 2020 behind us, we hope everyone is able to put themselves first this year and practice self-care! Here's to another one! Let's write some cats!
The Apostles is a warrior cats roleplay based in northern Wisconsin. On Lake Superior, the wild cats have made the Apostle Islands their home. It is on these islands - Rocky Island and South Twin Island - that the clan and tribe cats have lived in a peace and harmony that ebbs and flows with the tide.
But as the tides turn, so does the truce that binds them to one another; and as the water raises, a darkness follows, an evil that will end in bloodshed and violence.
The full moon hovers above the island, almost at its highest point. Beneath the celestial beast, the clan cats gather around the falls for the first gathering since the battle between Redwoodclan and Lichenclan over the Mooncave. Victorious, Lichenclan was able to maintain control over the sacred land when Minnowstar took one of Finchstar's lives, which caused Redwoodclan to retreat in order to save their leader from Lichenclan's insidious she-beast, however, not without leaving their own marks on the Lichenclan warriors.
Since then, tension has been high in the clan as the redwood warriors wrestle to remain supportive of their leader and this war.
On the shore, Minnowstar has announced that she will not attend the gathering, and will instead, lead her warriors in a mass confession at the Mooncave. This decision was made because the disheveled leader knows she cannot maintain the peace tonight and also fears for her own life due the ominous dream Cinderface received during the half-moon. Hemlockheart will instead lead a small band of Lichenclan warriors to the falls in order to maintain tradition.
Across the island, Thistleclan struggles with their own growing tension after the battle with the rogues at the abandoned campground. In its wake, Thievingstar has lost a life, two senior warriors were killed, an apprentice was injured, and Hawktail has stepped down as deputy, leaving Firfoot in her place. As a result, Thievingstar has enforced a strict curfew and her own paranoia worsens each day.
The only solace tonight is the gathering of the clan's medicine cats, who have all received mysterious messages from Starclan since the last half-moon.
Once your leader has posted in the thread, you are free to post your character's introduction and filter into the falls. Once all leaders are present, the gathering will begin. There is no structured post-order, so feel free to post in whatever order makes sense for your character and their interactions.
One by one, lithe warriors crept through forest as they neared the roaring waters. The full moon was luminous and painted the pale wisps of his pelt a silver hue, his feathered coat just barely ruffling in the gentle breeze. It was officially Green-leaf, and it was evident in the pleasant air and clear sky. Only a few clouds streaked across silver-pelt, allowing the moon to completely shine down upon the waterfall. Yet despite his pleasant surroundings, Hemlockheart could only focus on the startling interaction he had only a few moments prior. Upon arriving at the glorious landmark, the tom remained tense, naught a word leaving his jowls as the a storm continued to plague his mind.
He still saw it. Minnowstar's scowl, her venom--her rage. "You and all of the other worthless warriors..." Claws flexing, scraping against jagged rock. He had dedicated his entire being to the prosperity of LichenClan's warriors. He had dedicated himself to strength. And for her to call his warrior's worthless, to call him worthless. He seethed.
But with his fury followed a grave doubt, wondering then if he was really doing what StarClan wanted. Was Minnowstar right? Was he meant to bathe and lay his secrets bare on the night where his ancestors had meant for generations? No! With the moon as bright as it was and the night as clear, he found it harder and harder to doubt himself. StarClan was with him. They had always been with him. When his family died, when he became deputy, and even during his recent victory. Even if this was the first gathering since the bloody fight and tensions were bound to run rampant, Hemlockheart knew that StarClan would guide him here too.
“Any half-wit with a pulse can do your job, don’t think I don’t know that.” Minnowstar's final words enraged him so, but he ascended the rocks with pride, leaving any doubts he had behind. No, Minnowstar. StarClan chose me. And as he took a spot atop the highest boulders, he addressed his clan with only a few words. "StarClan shines down upon LichenClan. We will be strong for them."
The moon cast a cool light on the small, shadowy figures of ThistleClan as they weaved their way through the ancient conifers, their pawsteps but a whisper on the pine needles beneath their feet. On previous Gathering nights, Thievingstar would have traveled at a light jog, quadrupling their current speed, but tonight ThistleClan’s pace was slow, hampered by their battered leader’s injuries. Nonetheless, she had summoned her clan to leave early, long before the sun had begun to cast its golden rays on the horizon. They had plenty of time.
She had to get to the waterfall first.
Show no weakness.
Halfway to their destination, the hoot of a lone owl pierced the quiet, and Thievingstar jumped at the sound, colliding into Ratwhisker with a hiss and a spit, claws unsheathed. A menacing growl cut through the dark, silencing the bird and the clowder. "It's one thing to not know how to heal, but did you forget how to walk, too?"
Her prickly response was not uncommon for her or any ThistleClanner, but as she stared down her medicine cat with her hackles raised, it was clear that she was not about to dismiss this affront, regardless of fault. It took several tense moments and a few gentle words from Mistflower for the edgy she-cat to put away her weapons and move on. Tensions had risen since the rogue attack and the deputy ceremony that had followed soon after. After naming Firfoot to replace Hawktail, Thievingstar, in her paranoia, had announced two new laws for the clan, effective immediately and in place until further notice:
No cat may leave camp alone. No cat may leave camp after sunset.
No exceptions.
Nevermind that she herself had ignored these rules, sneaking out for an evening with Nightclaw before her wounds had even begun to heal. Their time together had given her strength, but she knew it was limited, knew it was only a matter of time before she was found out.
And so caution ruled alongside anger in her thinking this evening on their long trek toward the sacred meeting place of the three island clans, etched into her features and entwined into her every pawstep.
"Mingle if you will," she hissed to her clanmates as she labored on, glaring at any who dared try to outpace her. "But any who speak of the rogue attack will have their curfew adjusted from sun-down to sun-high." Wandering her way over to Firfoot, she added in a low murmur, "I trust you will inform me of any violations. You are my ears for all I cannot hear."
Much to her dismay and despite her careful planning, the pine cats arrived to the sight of LichenClan surrounding the waterfall. The dark molly scowled, irritation clouding her vision. At least we’re not last. At once Thievingstar knew something was off. When she glanced up to the tall rock podiums reserved for leadership, her suspicions were confirmed.
Minnowstar was not here.
Thievingstar’s tail slashed the air with contempt, but she said nothing to acknowledge the missing she-cat’s presence. Instead, she dismissed her clan with a sharp yowl, ordering them to stream into the clearing while she took her time to file her way to her seat, head held high and eyes alert, scanning everywhere. She could not hide her injuries -- the gash on her neck was gruesome, and the increased brokenness of her stride was hard to miss -- but she could feign indifference to the pain easily enough.
ThistleClan was still strong. Tonight they would show their strength in their every move and speak it in their every word.
Briarpaw strode along behind Hemlockheart. She kept her chin high despite the worries that wormed in her belly. It was the most unusual gathering she had ever attended. The deputy and the medicine cat’s apprentice lead the Clan into the gathering while the leader and medicine cat themselves took most of the Clan to confession. She wasn’t sure what exactly this meant for the future of LichenClan, but her gut feeling told her that it didn’t promise anything good. She glanced up at the back of the deputy’s head and she could see by his tense shoulders that he didn’t like what had happened either. Briefly, she wondered if he might actually be sympathetic to the cats he led away from Minnowstar. But it was a fleeting thought. Perhaps he was perturbed by Minnowstar’s attitude, but the young tabby was sure it was for a different reason.
Remembering her conversation with Cinderface, Briarpaw was grateful to Hemlockheart. He may not have realized it, but she wasn’t sure she would have been able to convince her mentor to let her come to the gathering if the deputy hadn’t already planned on taking a party with him. She listened to his short speech to the Clan and as their Clanmates dispersed, she hesitated at his side. ”You did the right thing,” she meowed quietly. A feeling of awkwardness kept her gaze straight forward so she wouldn’t have to watch the tom react. ”StarClan wants all Clans at the gathering.”
Without waiting for a response, Briarpaw slunk away. Her paws felt heavy with a responsibility that she was wholly unfamiliar with. She was LichenClan’s sole medicine cat tonight as far as the other Clans were concerned. She didn’t have Cinderface to hide behind this time. Cinderface had said that Hemlockheart would be keeping an eye on her. Amber eyes scanned the clearing as ThistleClan entered. Her eyes fell on the lanky body of Ratwhisker and a wave of familiarity relaxed her a bit. Guiltily, she realized she was more relieved to see other medicine cats than she would have been if she saw Cinderface walk into the gathering. Now all that was left was to think of a way to check in with the other medicine cats without seeming suspicious to her Clanmates. Her full name could rest on what happened tonight. That and leading the gathering cats to a confession of their own. She’d momentarily spared her Clanmates with that promise, but what would happen when it came time to follow through? She would have to figure that out later.
For the first time since arriving, Briarpaw heard the thunder of the falling water. Her ears angled forward in interest as she turned to face the falls. She remembered the roar of her dream and the cold weight that had hit her back, jerking her awake. The cats in the clearing were momentarily forgotten as the apprentice stared at the falls. Could that be what StarClan had tried to tell her? Go to the falls? With a sigh, Briarpaw turned away. She was still frustratingly confused by her dream. Maybe Lavendermist was right. She still needed to check for clues in the tunnels.
Redcloud trailed at the back of the group. Though he had just been named a warrior, praised for obedience, he couldn’t bring himself to follow Minnowstar to the Mooncave that night. He was comforted by the fact that his former mentor had come to the gathering as well. How could he have made the wrong choice if there were so many of his Clanmates that made the same decision?
The red tom kept his ears flat and his gaze lowered as the deputy addressed the Clan. His last gathering would serve as a lesson to him. As ThistleClan entered the clearing, Redcloud moved closer to his own Clanmates. He didn’t want to get in trouble again. Though ThistleClan probably wouldn’t damn him the same way RedwoodClan had, he wasn’t totally willing to take risks. Not with Minnowstar so unstable.
He hardly looked when the RedwoodClan party came into view, but there was one pelt that caught his attention. Why though? A brown pelt on a moonlit night hardly stood out. Had Redcloud been looking for him? He watched Hazelpaw mill around his Clanmates and frowned. He had once thought that the two of them could be friends. As much as two cats from different Clans could be friends, anyway. Then he had been punished, his apprenticeship extended simply for talking to him. Hunkering down, Redcloud pointed his nose downwards to watch his paws as he waited for the gathering to begin. Maybe he shouldn’t have come after all.
Lavendermist sauntered through the foliage, her ears flattened over her head and her haunches close to moist earth, the air humid and thick like a mist. Above, an owl called out into the forest and a shiver trembled across the she-cat’s back, startling her neck into a needled bristle. How did the other clans do this? She wondered as she followed Hemlockheart beneath the luminous stare of the full moon and across the redwood forest. Live beneath such ancient trees. The tall redwoods terrified the calico in the darkness, their limbs like reaching beasts, and not even the moon’s tender light could muzzle her fear. It only illuminated their gnarled and twisted branches, their lumbering trunks like menacing bears. With a sudden breath, the she-cat hurried her stride as the distant thunder of the falls sounded between the trees.
Perhaps it wasn’t just the trees, she breathed as she moved beside her clan-mates, their eyes widened and their ears flat, mouths silent with an unspoken terror that seized them all like teeth. It was Hemlockheart who led them toward the falls. Not Minnowstar. Hemlockheart. Lavendermist had entered the main cavern that night, expecting to hear her leader’s usual deranged drivel, words about heathens, Starclan, but tonight was different. Tonight, their leader seemed entirely unraveled, as if her mind had been completely consumed by some dormant insanity. What startled the calico most was that Hemlockheart had defied her, that he had chosen to deliberately disobey his leader. That act alone chilled the she-cats blood, and she was suddenly back in the tunnels with the rebellion, stunned as Quickstrike advocated for the blue tom’s change of heart. She didn’t believe that it could be done. But now, now, she wasn’t sure, and that somehow even scared her more, as if the battle wasn't that black and white.
As the sea cave dwellers descended into the basin, the calico wasted little time settling into a sit somewhere on the outskirts of the crowd, her head drawn downward and her lithe body flattened toward the earth. She didn’t want to draw any attention toward herself or reason for suspicion. Even if Hemlockheart had defied his leader and called Lavendermist’s name on his list, she didn’t want to take any chances. One wrong move and the blue tom could report her to Minnowstar and the rebellion would be done, over, banished before it even started. Still, when the Thistleclan warriors entered the falls, their leader’s caterwaul like a violent shriek, the she-cat found her eyes wandering for a familiar white coat, the tom who had started this all.
For a moment, the she-cat thought she saw Mothpaw’s alabaster fur, but as the moon illuminated the tom’s face, she caught the slight blue markings of tabby points, and her chest deflated with disappointment. He wasn’t here, she realized, surprised by the sunken feeling in her stomach. She didn’t know it until then, but she had wanted to tell the tom about the rebellion, even if it had been one measly word, one vague sentence to let him know how much he mattered, how much she needed to hear his voice. As she looked away, Lavendermist realized that she felt something else for the tom too, something more than gratitude, but she didn’t have enough time to explore it, as another cat, a small silver she-cat, settled next to Lavendermist with a soft smile. The calico dipped her head in greeting toward the other warrior before turning her attention toward the falls. The warrior wasn't a redwood cat, their clan still absent from the falls, but she didn't want to start a conversation in fear that Hemlockheat could sense her disobedience, see the rebellion somehow reflected in her eyes.
Post by gammaneise on Jun 20, 2020 14:27:24 GMT -6
[nospaces][googlefont=Poppins]
[attr="class","alibibg"]
[attr="class","alibipic"]
[attr="class","alibifade"]
[attr="class","alibiborder"]
[attr="class","alibitext"]Unease had crept along the stalwart warrior’s spine as the small band of clanmates left for the gathering, the implications of their journey not lost on him. He had no doubt that he and Hemlockheart had been in the right, that the truce had been a StarClan-bound tradition long before his paws had even touched the ground they stood on. Despite the battle that had raged on before their night of peace, and as much as Blizzardblaze would prefer to stamp RedwoodClan out of the picture, now was not the time.
[break][break]
Most concerning was the deputy’s demeanour once he’d left the leader’s den. He seemed to brew with vicious thoughts of his own, a look he’d seen in the past when they were younger, when he’d only freshly fought with bloody truths. Whatever had happened between the two had ended poorly, no doubt, though the large tom kept his questions to himself for the time being. Hemlockheart would be standing in for their leader, it was important to keep him focused for long enough to represent them.
[break][break]
The snow-white warrior, though keeping a distance from his old friend in respect, kept an eye on him and Cinderface’s apprentice as they led the group… An odd pair to see in place of what usually stood before the others. Blizzardblaze wondered if this would make the other clans see them as weak, their leader in hiding with her medicine cat… And as though he didn’t already agree with Briarpaw’s sentiment, that only solidified it. He gave a quick hum in approval, following the pointed tom until he took his place atop the boulders. Blizzardblaze sat by the base of the rock, amber eyes watching the deputy carefully as he spoke to the clan in an address. The bulky tom nodded his head in return, waiting as the telltale scent of ThistleClan reached their bounds, followed by the cats that carried it.
[break][break]
Surely Minnowstar would be aware of the impact her choice had made on the Clan as a whole. Not one to enjoy socialising amongst the other clans, he simply watched Thievingstar arrive, her own gaze drifting by the falls and falling onto LichenClan’s ranks… Only to be visibly angered by the disappearance of their leader. He had a feeling that she’d have a lot to say about it, and none of it positive. Without a word or gesture, the white tom shifted his gaze to the warriors that had joined them. None seemed incredibly confident, but for good reason. Blizzardblaze himself struggled to ignore his own doubts.
his gathering would be different. Not only because Mistflower carried a new name and rank with her to this gathering but because ThistleClan was changing. No, not ThistleClan. Thievingstar. The nervous molly could not reconcile the the disheveled, paranoid she-cat with the feisty, strong leader she had known for most of her apprenticeship. Thievingstar had seemed so strong despite her disabilities. Now, Mistflower peered ahead at the dark she-cat. Now she was scary. Mistflower trailed behind the she-cat. They had left before the sun had set, their pace agonizingly slow because of Thievingstar's injuries. The wound on the leader's neck shone like snow. There's no hiding this.
Mistflower had spent some time beside Ratwhisker, conversing with him. His recent recommendation for strength training had helped Mistflower gain confidence with her limp. Although it was still pronounced, and some days it hurt more than others, the swimming exercises had proved fruitful. Then the owl hooted. Thievingstar had a visceral reaction, and unfortunately she took it out on Ratwhisker. The black she-cats harsh words pained Mistflower, and for a few tense moments it seemed as if Thievingstar would skin Ratwhisker alive. Mistflower then did something she hadn't thought she would ever have the confidence to do. She spoke to Thievingstar, and her attempt to calm the irate leader worked. Thievingstar stalked away, leaving Ratwhisker to live another day. Heart breaking for the harsh words her leader had spoke, Mistflower stepped beside Ratwhisker. "You're a good medicine cat," she encouraged the lanky tom "You healed my leg." It felt insufficient, but embarassed the she-cat fell back, taking a spot beside her brother for the rest of the journey.
The roar of the waterfall soon met Mistflower's ears. As the Clan crested the next curve, the roaring water became visible. Thievingstar gave her instructions, and ThistleClan dispersed. Don't mention the rogues. Okay...just, chit-chat. LichenClan's tangy scent of the lake and musty caves filled the clearing. As usual, the pious clan was first. But mingled with their usual sent was a tension unusual for the warriors. As Mistflower scanned the clearing, she realized what could be causing that. Minnowstar wasn't in her usual place. Instead, Hemlockheart stood sentry by the falls. Did something happen? She felt the anxiety rising in her. Although she had not been present at the previous gathering, she wondered if something as dramatic would happen again tonight.
Mistflower stayed near Cloudstep. She was uncomfortable and self-conscious. Everyone seemed on edge, for various reasons. Everything felt like it was precariously balanced and a single misstep would shatter the peace that presided over the gatherings. Her pale green eyes scanned the area for vaguely familiar faces when Mistflower noticed a cat approaching. LichenClan. She realized from the scent. But the calico molly stopped and sat a few mouse lengths away, as if what she was after wasn't there anymore. Well, I can't stay in Cloudstep's shadow for the entire gathering.Bolstering her courage, Mistflower resettled next to the she-cat. She smiled, and the calico nodded a greeting. "Hello, I'm Mistflower," she bit her lip, Now what? Well if I can talk to Thievingstar I can talk to this cat. "I, uh, I hope all is well with your Clan?" Mistflower's gaze switched back to Hemlockheart by the falls, before returning to her seat mate. Will we get an explanation?
∙ cinderface ∙ mistflower ∙ fog that hangs in air ∙ loudstorm ∙ sun that shines above ∙ aspenpaw ∙ aster ∙ eaglefang ∙ leafdapple ∙ orchid that blooms by night ∙ sparrowheart ∙ frostkit ∙
you must go on adventures to find where you truly belong. -Sue fitzmaurice
Cloudstep was tense. Not that it would be any different from any of the other cats around him. With everything that had happened in Thistleclan recently, they all had reasons to be tense. He wasn't focused on that. He was focused on another issue. One that had been plaguing him for months. How was he going to get Snowfeather out of Lichenclan? That was what he was stressed about. He was going to go asking Thievingstar soon after their last secret meeting, but then their leader had died. And when she had come back, one of her many lives taken, she was paranoid, angry and tense.
Then the rules had been enforced. He scowled some as he trotted along in the group assigned to go to the gathering. This wouldn't do. He didn't have any good reason to be out after sun down if he did get caught....and he didn't have anyone he trusted well enough to go with. Not that he didn't trust his sisters, but he wasn't ready to pull them into this yet. Lilypad and he had grown distant, much more than he ever though possible, but maybe that was his own fault, not so much hers. And Mistflower....well she was just now being able to walk again so having her trek with him to the boarder and back was out of the question right now. Plus, most of the time she seemed more interested in spending time with Beetlenose.
His ear flicked involuntarily. He didn't hate the tom. Beetlenose just didn't know how to focus and it was more of a headache than he liked to deal with on a regular basis. He had to admit though, the young black and golden tom had managed to lift Mistflower's spirits when she had been stuck in the medicine cat den. Cloudstep just wondered what his motive was. If he was trying to get Mistflower's attention in a special way....well he would have a nice long chat with him first.
When Thievingstar lost her cool about the owl, the white tom had frozen and watched as his sister diffused the situation as best she could. Maybe she wasn't the little cat he kept picturing her to be. He lightly flicked her side with his tail as she fell back to join him. "You handled that well," he praised her softly then fell silent as Thievingstar spoke again. He wondered if Snowfeather would be there again. He hoped so. They needed to talk a bit more now that these rules were in place. As they entered the waterfall clearing he quickly scanned the pelts as the scent of Lichenclan filled his nose. And he saw her.
His heart stopped. Even from here, he could see she had more scratches more scars than just the one across her face. His lip pulled back in a silent growl, but he caught himself turning to act like he was biting at an itch on his flank. Mistflower was sticking near him. He didn't mind, but she would be curious why he was so worked up about a cat from a different clan. He was ready to give that explanation yet. But he didn't have to wait long. Soon, his sister seemed to decide to move away from him, from his shadow and go talk to another warrior. It stung a little, but he understood and in truth this would allow him to slip away easier. He glanced around again before finding the white pelt and casually made his way to the white Lichenclan she-cat.
He moved into her vision on her good side so not to startle her and sat close but not too close. They had no one immediately near by. He frowned some. Was her clan shunning her? She was obviously injured still so why was no one staying near her to make sure she was okay? "Who did this to you?" he asked softly, an angered growl low in his voice, "And don't tell me a bush or another wild animal. I know cat claw scars when I see them."
He turned his gaze toward her, anger and concern evident in his eyes though his face remained neutral. He didn't care about gathering customs right now. If that cat was here, he was going to shred their pelt off.
Word Count: 715 Tags: moonySnow Notes: Protective brother, to proud brother, to paranoid brother to....i'm about to kill someone....this tom has a lot of emotions
Finchstar had confessed to his mate and deputy Redfox before his departure that he truly didn't want to participate in the gathering tonight. There was no pride or strength in his step, just embarrassment and pain. He already knew he let his own clanmates down in their loss on the battle with LichenClan. There was no secrecy in the fact that he had failed leading them. If it wasn't for his blunder on his perfect opportuned run in with Minnowstar, they would have won.
But instead they had to drag his pathetic body away and retreat from the one battle he dragged his Clan into. They had lost the Moon cave, and their pride that day. Even though he vowed this would not be their last run in, he needed some time to heal from the repercussions of their last bout, and serious repercussions they were. He had not only lost his left eye, but lost his first life as well. If it wasn't for StarClan's own gift, he would have been less than the living rag doll he was now.
Just Hemlockheart's reminder scarred on his face was blaring proof alone of how weak of a leader he was. How could he show his face like this at the gathering? How pathetic was he going to look, especially side by side with Minnowstar, the victor? Did he even leave a scar? Redfox, who was still nursing kits, was doing a better job leading the Clan since he's been injured and recovering. Did he even deserve to be here?
It was only Redfox's mews of comfort and support that led him here, standing at the foot of the treeline leading into the warmth and chorus of conversing moonlit bodies. From the noise, it was obvious RedwoodClan was the last to arrive. But as his eye squinted to focus through the interlaced branches, there was no sign of the silver LichenClan leader. No, just the her deputy and the black shadow of Thievingstar. What the hell was going on?
Wordlessly he waved his tail, giving his clanmates the freedom to move on ahead and mingle with the other Clans. There was no point in ushering any secrecy or restrictions on their gossip. He had no right, and it was bound to spread anyway. Finchstar took a deep breath as he let every one of his warriors pass him before following in their wake.
He kept his gaze to the ground as he filed his way toward the boulders, then silently perched himself on one of the lower stones and granted a respectful nod to Thievingstar, trying not to react to the gash on her neck. Looked like ThistleClan was handling their own wars. If Finchstar was in any other position right now, he would have offered aid. But at times like these, every Clan was on their own.
Only a stone cold, expressionless glance met Hemlockheart's presence as Finchstar concluded his brief greeting, his attention settling back on the cats below them. This was going to be an interesting gathering indeed. For he was not the only Clan weakened or disheveled in some way. All of them were struggling. Finchstar could only pray their moon high tradition would bring them together at least a little bit. Or at least offer a break from their outside conflict.
Post by fallenreaper on Jun 21, 2020 13:32:35 GMT -6
Barkpaw RedwoodClan
Moonlight crept past the redwood leaves causing shadows to dance over Barkpaw's back. Silver bathed his ruddy colored pelt and the surroundings, the shadows warped by it. His anxiety spiked at the strangeness of this area. Rarely had he ever ventured this far before. The green grass bent underneath his silent paws and each step wore on pebbles appearing on the trail.
The young apprentice's ears perked up and his eyes scanned beyond the worn trail. All thirteen of them kept to a slow and tense pace, one been set by Finchstar's depressed mood. Barkpaw remained close to Rowanpath as thirteen of them continued on.
Barkpaw's thoughts turned inward to digest the situation.
From what little he knew, it all stemmed from the war with Lichenclan. The last defeat wounded not just their pride, but their confidence. Especially Finchstar's. The apprentice’s golden eyes rested on the brown and white leader, the tom’s body betraying his mood. Barkpaw couldn't imagine the guilt the older cat placed upon himself. His mentor Rowanpath and himself hadn't been there. This fact left a question to root in his mind: would it had mattered?
Life had both victories and defeats winding along the path of each cat’s life. He recalled how many broken bones, scratches, and worse he had endured as a kit. Each failure weighed him down until one time, he just laid there in defeat. The lesson he learned that day was simple. Moving forward and learning from it was the only possible solution to a problem. Dwelling on the defeat changed nothing.
Doubt fluttered into his mind causing him to keep his mouth shut. Finchstar likely knew this already. For the rest of the trip, Barkpaw simply observed the path they trod along.
The moment they entered the clearing, he followed the other's lead and stopped. His vision watched the leader's tail and obediently waited for the signal. Once it flickered, he hesitated then scattered alongside the last of them.
He dreaded the awkwardness stalking his heart. The ruddy tom knew no one from other clans and it caused him to keep close to Rowanpath.
Starclan, help me, I wish Crescentpaw was here. She is so much better at this. He thought with bitterness while watching the others in silence.
Word count: 383 | Tags:catalysta | Notes: Sorry, he's a shy boy.
Rowanpath would've walked with beaming pride, had the air not been tainted sour. He wordlessly followed Finchstar and the rest of their Clan-mates, the gears in his mind beginning to turn. He wanted to figure out a way to help, something needed to be figured out. Lives could be lost over something undeniably wrong. How could LichenClan continue to get away with such - well, ironically enough - blasphemy? It made his stomach churn and his chest felt tighter the nearer they got to the rushing waterfall. He glanced back at Barkpaw, to make sure his apprentice was staying near to him. He didn't want the young tom wandering off, not tonight. Tonight was not about mingling and talking to other Clan cats. At least, not in the usual way.
It's... Rowanpath halted in shock as he saw not the silver tabby and narrowed eyes of Minnowstar, but a pointed LichenClan tom sitting beside the ThistleClan leader, going to be a tense gathering.
He shuffled his paws, looking around the clearing as an idea popped into his head. Questions churned within him but he would have to wait for at least some of the answers. Others... well, perhaps the other answers, he could try to find for himself. Turning his attention to his apprentice, Rowanpath spoke quietly, "Stay with me tonight..." he hesitated as he realized the weight of what he was going to say, "maybe at another gathering, in the future, you can go on your own to mingle. But tonight you will stay with me. Try to observe whatever you can - especially from the ThistleClan cats. They're the ones that smell like pines and soil, by the way. Just.. just trust me, okay, Barkpaw? I won't let anything bad happen."
With an unreadable look at his apprentice, Rowanpath approached a tom with a striped face and a pure white she-cat. The white molly looked battle-torn; figures, she was a LichenClan cat, he realized. Though, he didn't recognize her and he had not been on the battlefield. Geez! This is a strange feeling. He swallowed hard, mustering the courage to move. He was tall and strong, he reminded himself, a force to be reckoned with at the very least. Should this LichenClan cat... well, she didn't look to be in any shape to put up a fight to him and her demeanor seemed demure. Anyway, it wasn't just her Rowanpath was interested in.
"Good evening," he rumbled from behind the two, who were sort of sitting together - but also not very close. He didn't think much of that though, as he took up the space between them. "I'm Rowanpath, and this is my apprentice," he motioned his tail towards his apprentice, and then gave the tom a reassuring nod to come up beside him, "his name is Barkpaw, and it's his first gathering." Foxdung, everyone must think I'm harebrained. Just trust me, Barkpaw.
Looking at the she-cat, Rowanpath offered an apologetic look, "I-I... uh... hey, I'm really sorry one of my Clan-mates did that. I hope we can set aside our differences tonight.. and that you won't judge us for the actions of our whole Clan. Sometimes the code forces us all to act on things we may not agree with. You understand...don't you?" he glanced between the two warriors, praying they would not cast him away.
i want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think. -Rumi
The moon was steadily rising in the sky as Redwoodclan made their way to the waterfall clearing for the gathering. Mousesong had been chosen as one of the thirteen to accompany Finchstar this month and she was sure if she should be proud, or nervous. With everything going on with Lichenclan, the recent attacks, the tussles with Thistleclan over the tribe, this gathering was bound to be a tense one.
IT didn't help that the calico molly was fighting a horrible headache and her normal comfort, Ravenfeather, was back at home resting from his injuries from the fight with Lichenclan in the moonpool cave. Whoever he had tussled with had left him with may deep wounds and even given her wounds of her own. Fears that one day he may not come back home. These thoughts only made her headache a bit worse. As they topped the ridge to see the other cats below, Mousesong quickly ran her paw over her muzzle before shaking herself out and sighing. She just needed to get through the gathering then she could go back home and curl up with Ravenfeather in their comfortable nest.
When Finchstar had called her name to join the gathering group, Mousesong had almost requested that she stay behind. Since her return from the tribe island, and becoming a warrior Mousesong hadn't felt her normal self. Like she could still go hunt and provide aid for the clan. Ravenfeather had noticed she seemed a little off and had gone on walks with her to make sure she got fresh air and the...personal attention she seemed to need. However when she surveyed the other gathered cats at the clan camp, most were either still recovering for injuries or were more skilled at guarding the camp should something happen. So she had said her farewells to Ravenfeather and followed the leader out.
As the clan made their way down, Mousesong quietly scanned the gathered cats to see if there were any she recognized from their recent encounters. Not seeing anyone immediately she sighed softly and flicked her ears as the roaring from the waterfall and the rumbling of conversation seemed to dig claws into her head even more. She sighed and settled down closer to the outer edge of the gathered cats, her eyes closing some as she tried to drown out the noises. Why was her headache so bad?
She was positive she hadn't dozed off, but she had failed to hear the approaching paw steps over the other noises and jumped as there was a sudden voice near her. Her green eyes snapped open and her long fur bushed out some before she looked at the cat before her. "Oh....oh hi," she said softly, quickly licking down her chest fur embarrassed, "No you aren't disturbing me. i just have a small headache is all. I'm Mousesong....one of the newest warriors for Redwoodclan."
Word Count: 480 Tags: --- Notes: Anyone is welcome to come talk to her. =)
Willowshine watched as her Clan-mates dispersed among the LichenClan cats, or perhaps separate from them, with curious eyes. It had been moons since her last gathering. This was actually her first as a warrior, she realized. She was tempted to stick to her Clan-mates, to dutifully settle around the waterfall and keep to herself - so as not to piss off her ever-snarling leader. Don't want to end up like Blazingstorm, she grimaced, the disapproval of that action clear in her expression for just a split second - not that any could tell what it was about.
She noticed her clan-mate Mistflower breaking off to go speak to a LichenClan calico. By the looks of it, the calico was close in age to them. Well, I'd better get to know the warriors I'll be growing up with - even the ones from other Clans, she thought to herself, figuring that it would be beneficial regardless of why. Learning about their strengths and weaknesses seemed clever in terms of future fights. Having a friend in each Clan didn't seem like a bad idea, either.
A smile eased onto Willowshine's features in more ways than one; her tail lifted in a friendly gesture, her ears perked attentively, and her stride was loose to indicate a casual greeting. She came up alongside Mistflower with a quiet trill to announce her presence, their pelts brushing slightly due to Willowshine's coat length.
"hope all is well with your Clan..." Mistflower was saying. So polite!
"Yes, as do I," she agreed, "oh, I don't think we've met. I'm Willowshine! What's your name?"
Willowshine thought, I'm glad we have someone like Mistflower in our Clan, to show that we aren't all as scathing as our claws... or leader. She cast an adverse gaze up at the boulders that held up the three leaders, and with a pang realized that Minnowstar was replaced by Hemlockheart.
"What happened to Minnowstar? Is Hemlockheart, Hemlockstar now?" she asked in shock, turning her surprised gaze back onto the LichenClan cat before them.
The full moon threatened its evidential descent as the redwood warriors followed their leader to the falls, his brown and white body striding beneath the archaic trees, wracked and weakened with a noticeable nervousness. Her eyes flicking toward the luminous beast above, Robin-nose scrunched her nose before shooting Tigerpool a leveled glance. There was no debate. Redwoodclan would be the last clan at the gathering tonight, a move she was sure that wouldn’t work in their favor after their defeat at the Mooncave. There was no telling how Minnowstar would torture them next. Shaking her head, the she-cat attentively remained silent as they trekked further through the foliage, her coat occasionally brushing Tigerpool’s as the falls suddenly thundered in the near distance, their bodies centimeters from one another.
With each touch, she felt her skin bristle with electricity, a tickling sensation that colored her cheeks a faint red. It had only been one night since they had confessed their feelings for one another, their desire to be more than friends, and her mind was still reeling in the aftermath, not sure if it was actually real or merely a dream. Her stomach fluttered as she recalled the memories from the night before, their bodies in the comfort of one another, not in a seductive or sensual manner, but only to be close, to be near each others' flesh and blood. With a scant gaze over her shoulder, Robin-nose wondered then how obvious it was to her clan-mates. Did they know? She worried, quickly returning her attention to the falls as the clan started to descend toward the basin and into the crowd at Finchstar’s meek dismissal.
The she-cat swallowed then, her feet suddenly hesitating at the crest of the hill. Her eyes raised to catch Tigerpool’s stare as the color deepened across her cheeks, unsure about what he wanted to do. Did he want everyone to know? They hadn’t talked about it much. Only the nature of their relationship was discussed, both of them deciding to take it slow. The she-cat never considered how they would act in front of their clan-mates, let alone the entire island. She cocked her head to the side then, sheepishly smiling beneath his stare. “Do you want to sit with me?” she asked, her gaze strangely demure as their clan-mates moved to sit among the other clan cats. She was sure the tom wanted to be close to her, but what she meant as the red blush further across her face, was did he want to sit with her like that, like how other mates sat with one another, their infatuation with one another as loud as the falls that thundered between the trees.
Eggpelt scowled at his reflection in a pool of water, trying to decide between a red and yellow flower to place behind his ear. Yellow would pop among the light of the moon, but red was a bit cooler, and would require closeness to see.
Ever since it was announced that Eggpelt would be acting as one of the representatives of Thistleclan, the tone of his aura had changed. He threw more and more kill onto the pile, was generally less furtive around the the clan, and hummed about his tasks with an attitude of something resembling responsibility. A tiny portion of it had to do with his reflection on the current events, but most of this behavior was because, for once, there was actually something for him to look forward to.
No more time for fussing. He settled on a red flower, and went to join the others. He was on his way to first gathering.
It had been quite some time since something had lit a fire inside the lackadaisical tom, but indeed, nothing as momentous as a gathering had done enough to capture his passion. Since he was a kit, he ached to go. Under the full moon, cats from every clan would gather to do one thing, and one thing only, and it was the one thing Eggpelt knew he had under his paws.
Talk.
Not just talk however. Tonight, they would all be acting as representatives of the clan as well. Eggpelt didn't really understand some of the things going on among the shadows of his burrows, but he understood image, and knew that now more than ever, Thistleclan needed to put their best paw forwards. He would have an opportunity to do just that, and he was determined to make the best of it.
Whether or not Thievingstar, in her increasing state of destrudo, saw this, or simply picked him at random, he felt a quiver of gratefulness for whatever force brought him here.
His white pet and light demeanor starkly contrasted to the rest of the group. Reading the room, he elected to walk mostly in silence, but couldn't help himself to a quip or two, mostly to Graygaze's annoyance. After all, there was no way he was going let the tainted air surrounding inter-clan activities stop him from trying to have a good time.
His effort to keep high spirited became more difficult when Thievingstar began cutting into Ratwhisker with her words. They were soon on their way again after a surprise. Mistflower of all cats, had managed to pacify the leader into a more relaxed state.
"Huh. Maybe Beetlenose isn't such a dolt after all." he thought.
They moved along. Finally, the scents of the Lichenclan permeated the woods, and the torrent of water thundering over the falls began to become more than a dull noise among the leaves. Thievingstar precariously made her way into the gathering after doling out her instructions, leaving the cats of the pines to fend for themselves.
"She said that like it would be some kind of punishment." he joked to the older kovat, before entering the fray. "Try to make some friends, friend. See you soon!"
With that, he was off to make his own.
As well as to make friends for the sake of it, Eggpelt knew the purpose of the gathering was to share news and information. To simply gain information once however, wouldn't do a cat much good. To keep up to date, he would need a network, and networks require friends. As well, he had never fought any of these cats before. Best to start with a good impression, and if anything, see what he was up against.
For awhile, all he sensed were high tensions. Not something he wanted to tackle immidiatley, he tried to take in the beautiful sights of the moon against the waterfall and grand scale of the trees until he found someone more agreeable. They came in the form of a similarly scented young calico, nursing her cranium.
"Whats up? I'm not disturbing you, I hope."
"Oh...hi.....small headache ...warriors from redwoodclan."
"A little headache? Sold. I'll take that over all the anxiety, doom an' gloom. Name's Eggpelt, new-ish warrior of Thistleclan. Good to meet you, Mousesong." he enthused. "It's a lovely patch of land you got yourselves here. It's...it's more uh- rustic, than we're used to, but it's beautiful country."
Looking over at the small she-cat, she noticed the largess of his voice might have been a little much. His next words came out with the same accents, but at a lower volume. Maybe one of medicine cats could help, but it did beg a question.
"My bad...heh. I'm just excited. First gathering and all. I can understand the need to show up, but if your head is giving trouble, shouldn't you be back at your camp, resting? "
