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 lingered in its watchful suspension. Here, so crisp given the almost cloudless night, the perceptive eye could see the lunar claw marks. Dark striations that tricked the gaze who called the skies silverpelt- yet with or without their collection, the etched lines had bled upon the levitating sphere with its mottled shadows. Orchidshade blinked away this glean. The redwood clan figures left through the dark.
“You know Finchstar.” The she-cat mumbled as they trudged through the thickets. She lingered beside him and Redfox, whose pelts kissed in the faint forest sighs. Sighs that would not blow past a tickle in the green-leaf air. Almost all was still.
“We’re all doing our part, so there’s no shame in polishing your battle skills by training with others.” She continued. “Leader, or not.” The she-cat finished, her gaze fixated on the horizon. The horizon who had closed its saturated dance with the veil of a black cloak.
Finchstar was never an optimal fighter and now, more than ever, would be the pristine moment to train his skill. Not only his strength, just barely regained since his recovery, but confidence. Finchstar was tall and lanky. Orchidshade knew his body was meant to build slow aerobic muscle. He would be set for endurance and dexterity. A continuous, but never-faltering set of moves that could last from dusk to dawn against the short-spirited and bursty foe. This would be beautifully tagged-teamed with Redfoxe's stocky body who could deliver the power in its absence. But, Orchidshade was not a trainer. She was a healer. Though where she faltered in the ability to train warrior ways, she filled the void with dietary knowledge and supplements. They would talk about this later. Perhaps with the addition of a meat head like Loudstorm and Tigerpool. But, these were the thoughts the consumed her conscience on this shadowy stroll.
“Your strengths lie in your good nature. To others, that makes us look weak. Because, we are.” she mewed dryly with a twitch of her whiskers. They shined momentarily before muddied by the matte nature of their tone. Their tone where hefty deposits of melanin forced light-wave interactions and in turn, seizing some of its waves. The result, a matte subtle glow that paired that of her nose. Her nose where if moistened, resembled that of velvet more than the common black comrade's obsidian.
The she-cat donated a swiveling side-eye to the currently laconic shape of Redfox. Their kits would be 3 moons now but here she was. Orchidshade commended the dedication but frequently worried that raising kits would tear Finchstar away from more pertinent duties. He was a father, but a leader first. What use did a family do if you aren’t strong enough to protect them. The she-cat sighed.
Finchstar had lost a life that night at the moon pool. For sunrises, Finchstar was neither a leader nor a father, frequently beside the she-cat as she and Smallpaw relentlessly worked on his severe wounds. In that way, the lanky tabby was error-free. Orchidshade had needed Smallpaw. Without Smallpaw, she would be drowning in the routine tasks of collecting herbs and fixing sprains, in addition to the myriad of battle wounds. Additionally, Smallpaw was apt at mollifying the tension between herself and Redfox, who Orchidshade continued to resent. But, it did little good (the kits were born and come three moons, if there was a pelt left to train them, they would be apprentices). Smallpaw worked well and was respectful to the worried tabby as her mate and leader lay with pools of blood beneath his alabaster patches.
Only the infrequent rustling and heavy breaths opened the silence. Orchidshade slipped through the foliage and caught the gossamer glow of Hemlockheart beside the sinking shadow of Thievingstar. Thievingstar looked rough. The she-cat snorted. Her eyes flickered towards Redfox with a questioning raise. Simultaneously, she darted her eyes towards the Lichen clan deputy.
The pelts of her comrades filtered by. Finchstar stayed behind. When all had left she spoke.
“At least…act like you have it together.” Orchidshade growled with a pitiful shake of her head. She paused, catching the gaze of the deputy and her own apprentice. They had stopped only a few tail-lengths ahead. For a moment, an inkling of guilt toyed with her conscience and Orchidshade grew flustered in the silence. “Because I know you have it in you.” She finished quickly, dismissing herself immediately with a heated rush. was shrewfurws tolerance getting the best of her?, the she-cat padded away with flattened ears, the discomfort consuming her chest. It felt as if her heart had fallen into a bee hive. Her throat suspended in a dry state, Orchidshade's reflection of her own retorts stung relentlessly. The medicine cat had so much guilt and frustrations that were nesting inside those honeycombs. So frequently undisturbed, they oozed with the fruit of her efforts to attempt to sooth the stinging plunges. When the world was a swirling swarm, did blowing pepper only ignite the coals? And if so, who was the victim?
Smallpaw was hopefully, tracking behind.
The medicine cat beckoned for Smallpaw to follow closely. Her yellow eyes the only testament to the silent observer amid the darkness. “You will introduce yourself as my apprentice.” The she cat murmured. Though shy, Orchidshade trusted that Smallpaw would oblige. Such a small moment could present a gesture representative of strength and independence during this trying time. The tensions would certainly be high. Orchidshade wanted every opportunity for Smallpaw to appear as an interested volunteer, not a desperate recruit. And, the former was true, but Orchidshade feared the she-cat’s quiet, but more timid, nature could allow the judgmental glares of savage foes to fill in their own blanks.
Orchidshade snaked through the pelts of the masses to post beneath the mouth of the falls. It’s roarings had died down since the recent rush from melted snow. Still, it’s sprays were a relentless cast of freezing breaths. It spat on their pelts with a misting graze.
She was unsure if this was Smallpaw’s first gathering, but it was definitely her first since assigned to the path that walked beside the stars. Orchidshade lifted her muzzle to inhale the site of silverpelt. She breathed in their basking luminance and hoped that the faith she had been bestowed, given their recent dreams, would lead her clan to rest. That is, at least for a moment in time. They were all growing tired. She cast her ominous gaze amid the masses. Not a single cat appeared unsheathed. Beneath the moon's light, Starclan whispered somber secrets with the slashes and scars that rained their cumulative pelts. There was no clan distinction, they all were hurting.
After a brief moment, she caught the lanky figure of Ratwhisker who sat beside Briarpaw. She approached them with her indifferent stride and sat beside the others. Orchideshade lifted a paw and groomed. After a moment, the she-cat lifted her gaze to trade glances among the two. Cinderface was not here and she would wait for the explanation.
Quickstrike had always done pretty well at playing the part, at hiding in the shadows and toeing the line. He was young to anyone outside of LichenClan, and even to those within, at eighteen moons, but the sheer amount of turmoil he’d been through in the last six or so moons had aged the tom. He’d already been mature past his seasons before.
He’s really not quite sure exactly when he’d failed to put on a flawless enough act, not really sure when he’d given up just trying to focus on the day to day and looking to the future. Maybe it was when he received his own apprentice, when his boys were born, when he’d chosen to step up and help Shadowface.
Before, Quickstrike slunk in the shadows, wreathed in the darkness that bled into his coat so well. He would linger at the edge of these events, eyes dull, bored, and longing to return to his nest. He never worried about much else other than trying to do what his clan required of him, hunt for them, fight for them, protect them.
Now, though?
Something was growing inside him, clawing at the chains that had held his careful façade in place for so long. Perhaps it really wasn’t such a mystery to when things had changed, really. Minnowstar had singled him out then, when he’d been wrongly accused of treason for simply being caught in the lee-side of a Redwooder approaching him. At that point, he’d become aware of the treatment of the apprentices, cowed into bleak submission and blind loyalty. They did things out fear of their leader now.
And then his boys. That was the real turner; blood or not, he didn’t want his sons to grow up in a clan like this.
Once he’d slink into these meetings crouched, his tall form crouched to be carefully even with those smaller than him. He’d made an effort then to slip by unnoticed. Now, when Quickstrike made his appearance at the gathering, his presence was not unnoticed. He held his head high as he kept pace with his deputy, a new found respect for the tom beginning to blossom. He’d always respected the tom, for more reasons than one, and now…he was beginning to see that his instincts had been proven right.
Quickstrike paused, lifting his face to the moon to let the pale light bathe his face, let his deputy’s voice and words wash over him. He was the least surprised that his deputy had defiled Minnowstar's orders. Perhaps that was what he was surprised about. The fact that he knew his mentor on such a deep level frightened him. But he felt hope fill his chest. Maybe something could come out of this after all; he looked at his gathering of clanmates, catching eyes with Swansong. He'd mentioned to her a mere two nights prior, huddled over their family graveyard, to stay quiet and unseen, but keep her eyes and ears open. He said something was going to happen and he'd tell her more when it was safer. He'd been too scared to mention any details, but she was the only one other than Shadowface who'd outrighted encouraged him to stand up. She no doubt knew what was happening.
That thing inside gnawed at the chains, chipping away slowly. He would continue to play the bystander as much as possible. His change in attitude would attract too much attention by his clanmates. He would watch mostly tonight, but also make mental notes. That night in the tunnels weighed heavy on him. Shadowface was right; for this to work, they needed help from more than just within their clan.
Quickstrike walked past a nervous Lavendermist, letting his tail tip tickle her paws as she strode past with no more than a glance. He could be seen too friendly with just anyone, but he felt compelled to quieten and calm the young warrioress’s nerves.
He slipped up towards the edge of the group, his normal place, not far from the falls, and sat to watch silently. He took careful note of every face that slide close to his periphery, non-nonchalantly licking a paw with a lazy gaze.
Nightclaw had accused him of being a coward once, and yes, he had been, so content to just hide away and turn his back. But he was here now, wasn't he? If Shadowface couldn't be here to scope out the other clans, then he would, but it would be on his own terms. He would watch and wait. He was good at that after all.
seven hundred sixty-six | he's at this really weird stage DX | Bandit (swansong mention)
Post by wolfiedemon on Jun 27, 2020 20:22:25 GMT -6
Of all the cats that were called forth for this gathering, the brown tom felt that he was going to be one of the ones staying in the camp. But when he heard his name, he perked up. But there was a name he was surprised that wasn't said. His mentor Dawnlight would not be attending. This would be his second gathering but first without his mentor there to look after him in a sense. Was this Finchstars way of saying he trusted the tom enough to continue bringing him to gatherings. If so he would continue to prove himself to his leader.
Hazelpaw was hoping to have earned his warrior name before this gathering but with everything going on, he understood why he had to wait. But part of him was starting to feel a little impatient. He wanted to be counted as one of those that had gone through the training and hardship to become a warrior. He also wanted to impress any cats there that had attending the last gathering that was interrupted by the appearance of that black tribe cat.
Once they had reached the gathering, Hazelpaw scanned those cats gathered and saw a pelt he didn't expect to be there. His tail shot up and started to twitch in excitement. Yes this cat he saw was a member of LichenClan but he didn't care. He felt that he could be friends with this red furred tom. There was something about him that didn't scream LichenClan.
Hazelpaw slowly approached the cat he knew as Redpaw. "Hey Redpaw. I didn't think you would be here. It's good to see you." He took a seat near the smaller red tom. He started to look around at those cats gathered and hoped that none would be upset seeing him being friendly with a technical enemy. "I was hoping to share my warrior name with you but I haven't had my ceremony yet." Hazelpaw noticed that the other tom had his head down, almost as though he was hiding. "Redpaw? Are you ok?" Hazelpaw was starting to get worried....
347 | Hazel has arrived and is worried about his friend| Raven~
t was impossible for Graygaze to keep his head up during these stupid Gatherings. He'd constantly dip his head towards the ground, raise it quickly, then slump down again in a sleepy malaise. At least Thievingstar's orders were easy enough for a feather-head like him to comprehend: choke on a hairball if you mew, 'rogue'. If Graygaze had it his way, he wouldn't converse with anybody during his time on the island. Nights should be for sleeping. Operating on StarClan's time wasn't fair.
The sloth took his time finding a place in the clearing. He preferred to be somewhere on the perimeter, out of sight. On his way he passed a very agitated Cloudstep who was addressing some she-cat. He hoped the tom would watch his conduct during this long night, but he didn't feel the need to intrude on his business either. Willowshine and Mistflower were fraternizing with a LichenClan calico. They looked awful friendly in a time where Thievingstar was so desperate for their clan to look strong and imposing. Oh well, far be it from him to judge. Eggpelt said something mouse-brained to him. Graygaze thought it best to just ignore him or at least give the impression that he was ignoring the half-warrior.
"Finally." Graygaze found a spot around the concentrated collection of cats and sighed. He sat on his haunches and looked up at the moon. Why couldn't they just keep to themselves? They'd be back on each others' hides by the next moon and do this all over again. Conflict was like a tick they just couldn't dig out. He hoped Thievingstar wouldn't mince bindweed in the prey pile. ThistleClan was already dealing with rogues the most out of all the other clans. They didn't need more problems.
Lightwater felt a little tense as she followed her deputy into the fray of undergrowth littering their path into the outstretched clearing. She was too aware of the curious eyes that would penetrate her all night, too aware of their missing link that could only illustrate weakness or prying curiosity, either of which she welcomed. Gatherings were unfortunately ones of those few and far between instances where business could be shared between Clans and not have their ears shredded off. Lightwater wasn't against the prospect of peace, but sharing tongues with other Clans never was a preferred hobby of her's, especially now.
With LichenClan's infamous leader refusing to attend one of the most sacred traditions the Clans shared, there would be no surprise the negative gossip that would find its way down the grape vine. And to be entirely honest, Lightwater wasn't too keen on Minnowstar's recent tackle on leadership. There was no doubt in her mind that Minnowstar, for StarClan knows what reason, was losing her sanity. Even Hemlockheart, who no one could deny his absolute loyalty, had judged Minnowstar's actions of taking an absence from the Gathering. Although Lightwater had been surprised the deputy took it upon himself to continue their ritualistic rights. Never did she think she'd seen the day the warrior would go against his leader's wishes outright like this. She definitely found herself respecting Hemlockheart a little more.
Now, in terms of Lightwater's next plan of action for this lovely night, she truly did not know. Considering the strange circumstances, her usual casual routine felt odd to strut. The blue warrior already had an uncomfortable itch under her pelt due to their missing leader. And with strained feelings for RedwoodClan, there was a limit to who she could even converse with. If it wasn't for Lightwater's dedication to StarClan's laws, and certainly let's clarify not the same StarClan Minnowstar seems to entrust, she wouldn't be here right now. But it wasn't a very intelligent move to correlate herself with such laziness just because of feelings of restriction.
"Not fond of our tradition of moonlit socializing I see?" Lightwater mused as her cautious trails led to a lonesome soul with a name that alluded her. But as soon as her gaze fondled the details of his pelt, the brilliant shine to his gray fur caught a wisp of memory. Graygaze. Lightwater never had a personal conversation with the warrior, but she knew of his standing in ThistleClan, his aloofness a floating rumor, whether that be a bad or good thing she didn't know.
"If I had to be honest, neither am I. Although, between you and me, I am rather entertained by what gossip I do pick up." Lightwater added, prodding some sort of friendly small talk with the tom. Lightwater was never known for her conversation skills, or friendliness at all for that matter, but the least she could do is aid another introvert in making this night pass faster.
FINCHSTAR | NIGHTCLAW | FALLENFIRE | MINTNOSE | SLEETWING | LIGHTWATER | RIVER WHERE LOTUS FALLS | DECEIT
Her steps faltered as Lichenclan entered the empty clearing. Even without their leader, they were the first to arrive. The tension weighed on the shoulder’s of those that followed their deputy tonight instead of their leader. But, Snowfeather found some comfort that Redcloud chose going to the gathering, rather than being baptized
She passed her fellow clan mates and sat with her thin tail curled tightly around her paws. Would he be here tonight? She couldn’t stop thinking about the Thistleclan tom since their last encounter and the anticipation was making her restless. Snowfeather closed her eyes and dug her claws into the dirt, hoping to ease the anticipation.
At the sound of approaching paw steps, the she-cat ears swivel towards the entrance just as the scent of pine needles filled her senses. She breathed in the scent and as she opened her eyes, there he stood. He was here! Her chest fluttered as she gave the tom a soft smile, with his name at the tip of her tongue in greeting, until he spoke. Instantly, her smile melted from her face at his display of anger. She had forgotten about her new wounds that littered her pelt. Though, the pain for most of them were gone, they were still healing.
Her gaze landed on a familiar blue coat before lowering them to her paws. ”Training.” She sighed, hoping he wouldn’t cause a scene. Her eyes soften as she glanced at him through her peripheral vision.”It’s nice to see you, Cloudstep.”
Her shoulder’s tensed as a voice spoke from behind them and before she could comprehend what was happening, a massive tabby lowered himself between them, motioning a smaller tom to join him. The strong scent of tree sap and bark filled her senses as she turned towards their intruder. She was so focused on Cloudstep that she didn’t even notice the arrival of Redwoodclan.
Her wide blue eyes snapped up towards the form of the Lichenclan’s deputy that now stood with the other leaders. Would he punish her for speaking with cats from Redwoodclan? She scanned the rest of the clearing and found her eyes glued to the bright red pelt of Redcloud who sat next to a Redwoodclan cat. Well, Hemlockheart never said we couldn’t. Snowfeather turned back towards the large tabby and was momentarily taken back to see the tom’s bright eyes staring at her. She could feel her cheek’s heat up from embarrassment as she caught onto his words. Did everyone know how she obtain her wound? A soft sigh escaped her lips,”Thank you Rowanpath, but there’s no need for an apology.” She tilted her head, making sure to keep her blind side hidden. ”Besides she beat me fair and square.”
She turned her gaze towards the younger tom at his side and smiled softly,”Welcome Barkpaw. I’m Snowfeather of Lichenclan.” She greeted as her gaze slid up to meet the ice-blue gaze of her Thistleclan companion, noting the irritation that radiated off of him. She cleared her throat,”Are you nervous? I remember trembling with excitement at my first gathering.” She tore her gaze from Cloudstep and forced it back on the Redwoodclan cats, silently thanking them from preventing Cloudstep from doing something stupid.
Post by wolfiedemon on Jun 28, 2020 20:09:26 GMT -6
Ashfrost
LichenClan Warrior
Sitting at the gathering, Ashfrost could feel a set of eyes on him. This was nothing new, but something about it made him turn his head to look. When he did he saw the white pelt of Snowfeather and that of another cat. If memory served this was Cloudstep from ThistleClan. He had seen the white tom a few times before a gatherings but didn't care much about him. From the look of it however, this tom might care for the white she-cat that he had to ruthlessly taken his anger out on....
Ashfrost lowered his head at the thought. He did not mean to go that far but it was as though he was possessed. Something about that fight felt like it woke something in him that he didn't want to feel or see again. When they returned to camp he would apologize to her or at the very least teach her how to fight so her opponents don't end up killing her.
With that thought in mind, he was kind of glad he went with the group attending the gathering, and didn't stay with those getting baptized. He shuddered at the thought. His last baptismal was when he was still an apprentice and it would stay that way if he could help it.
Ashfrost stood and walked past the group that was gathering around Snowfeather. He looked over at her and nodded his head before finding a different spot to sit, more out of her sight then anything. He knew the sight of him probably upset her, he knew the feeling all too well when it came to Nightclaw for a time. Now he wasn't so sure about anything. The blue tom made himself comfortable a little ways away from Snowfeathers group.
The past moon had been new to Redfox. Dealing with kits was enough to drive her ragged. Their constant meowing and begging. Playing. Her entire life, it was her goal to be a mother, to have a family. But as she looked at the kits she and the love of her life had produced, all she could see was creatures holding her back from helping her clan. Keeping her away from fighting and leading RedwoodClan to glory.
It had changed, slightly. They had been weened off her milk and had begun to eat solid foods. This allowed her to leave the nursery more and more. Soon, she only slept there. The deputy attempted with her whole heart to hide the resentment towards her kits away from their seemingly perceptive gazes. Gleaming eyes masked the depression that she had every time she was stuck tending to their needs. Curlycloud, an amazing mother, had picked up on this despite her best efforts. Slowly, the queen had taken over her duties. Thankful, she felt confident to return to her day-to-day life.
Guilt riddled Redfox's every breath because of this. Semi-abandoning her kits. Urging her mate to swarm the Moon Pool. Every glance at her beloved mate's eyes reminded of her own failures. They had lost. Was it because she had kits? She believed so. If she had not been a lazy queen the last few moons, the training would have been superb. The battle patrol would have included her. Finchstar would not have lost a life nor an eye. This only made her resent her kits more, which then in return made her resent herself more.
Secretly, Redfox did not want Finchstar to attend the Gathering. For lack of better words and tact, he was weak and he was a gross spot on RedwoodClan's glory. Her love for the tom was as deep as the depths of the deepest parts of the lake, but... a twinge of doubt in his abilities to lead the clan always lingered in the darkest pits of her brain. Another branch of guilt arose from this, as many thoughts of Finchstar stepping down often arose. Quietly, she reminded herself that since they were a team, nothing more than formality blocked her way from leading the clan. But what if she died in battle? Glancing his way as Orchidshade began to speak, Redfox could see the clan crumbling. Most days, she felt as if the entire clan was being held together between the medicine cat and herself.
Guilt. StarClan, she had so much fucking guilt.
The days since the attack had been quiet. Pure recovery. But the deputy bristled as Orchidshade called the clan weak. Never. Things needed to change, but Redfox cinched her jaw shut for now. It was not the moment to bring up such thoughts.
Finchstar led the clan into the Gathering and slunk to the boulders. Inwardly, she sighed. All she wanted to do was scream for him to hold his head up. Smile. Act like nothing was happening. Instead, the she-cat followed right behind him. Head high and shoulders square. Eyes burning with hatred as she stared down Hemlockheart. A growl died in her throat as she imagined herself tearing the deputy's jugular out and watching him bleed beneath her paws. The tom had mutilated her love, and she would do the same until the debt was paid.
Glaring, Redfox sat below Finchstar. Close enough she could try to encourage him from below and jump in if necessary.
It had been moons since the tabby warrior attended a gathering. Tigerpool flexed his claws into the indurate skin of a root, apprehensive to begin their journey before the full-moon had reached the pinnacle of silverpelt. The feeble figure of Finchstar padded by, an awkward gimp while his body seized tremors. They did not exchange eye-contact. Soon, the deputy and medicine cat followed. Tigerpool flattened his ears and exhaled a hiss.
Redwood clan's attack at the Mooncave had been a failure, despite his own greatest efforts. He wasn't enough. Tigerpool relentlessly trained, ate, and toned his body to reflect the embodiment of an ideal weapon. What could be said for Finchstar? A life was swept from under him, seized by the tyrannical heretic of Minnowstar. Minnowstar, who Tigerpool had had the honor of clashing against. The dirty molly had torn into his neck. The spot was still tender from her ruthless attempt of what could have been, for a lithe or younger cat, murder.
Tigerpools fighting spirits dwindled, and at times he began to question their leader's resolve. The warrior code and Starclan had always coalesced in Tigerpool's spiritual conduct. Though the later was more abstract, he would leave that to Orchidshade. Regardless, their defeat was a reflection of Redwood clan's weakness. After this event (one of many), daunting questions emerged from his conscience. If Lichen clan seized the Mooncave who knew what they were capable of claiming next? Would Thistle clan notice as well? A smart leader would use this opportunity to expand their territory South but Thistle clan typically struggled with rogues and wildlife. The tom sighed, his own body still aching from the aftermath of the battle. But, no open sores bore fissures in his pelt. Perhaps it was because of green-leaf that the medicine den always felt stalked. Tigerpool wondered if it could be something more. His young sister, Smallpaw, had earned her keep at the den. In turn, Orchidshade's tension had decreased as he was able to make light conversation with his shy, but a sweet-natured sibling. They had never grown too close since she was a much later litter. Also, Orchidshade who was formerly so brusque had retracted to a more quiet self. The black pelted medicine cat focused on her duties and seemed to almost enjoy instructing Smallpaw. If he could make this inference...she seemed at the very least during these pressured times, happier.
A moment's pause. The feathery pelt of Robin-nose greeted his side. Without a word, he joined her. Immediately, his ears relaxed and the tension released from every step of his white mitts. Her pale green eyes beckoned him and a sense of warmth enveloped the tom. He cracked an apprehensive smile with the soft raise of his brows.
They padded in silence. The occasional flicker of her pelt kindled a fire beneath his chest. But still, against the sizzling flames, the she-cat appeared weighted. He watched the subtle shaking of her head and lowered gaze. Tigerpool assumed it was the same as he, carrying the hefty politics on her shoulders. When her eyes focused elsewhere, he snuck a glance. Robin-nose's pelt caught flecks of lunar light in her contour. It filtrated her creamy curls that cast a gossamer gradient into the darkness of her form. The tom swallowed, sweat perforating through his paws. With all the uncertainty, now, at least there was one thing the tom felt sure of. Robin-nose had wanted to push further than a friendship. As a result, Tigerpool began to experience an unimaginable amount of relief...and reliance. Amid this continuously defeating predicament of war and loss, there was finally one thing he didn't have to question. This was a silver lining.
"It's OK." Tigerpool mewed as they descended into the basin. What? Everything. Everything would be OK. Maybe not great, but not the worst. Their bellies were full and their nest lay dormant to cradle their sleeping forms. In this immediate moment, everything was at the very least, OK. But to Tigerpool...it felt better than OK. It felt exhilarating. The tom swallowed. I'm being selfish, he mused. The world was shattering. Meanwhile his chest was now distracted. He was full of the ecstatic beating of lust's wings. In the tom's defense, he hadn't had anything short of a fling for so many moons and to parade her pelt by his side felt like a new championship...to him, she was just that wonderful.
But, the she-cat appeared worried. He couldn't particularly deduce how, or why, but it was a simple flag of his intuition (starclan knew it couldn't be reasoning). In response, he flashed her a tender stare. The tops of his maw curled into a smirk before he followed her tentative lead.
In front of them, the familiar crashing of falls roared as they were kissed by mist. It felt cool against his body. This was not because Tigerpool had found the trek challenging. "Do you want to sit with me?" her mew seemed shy. For a moment, it felt uncharacteristic. Why does she seem so withdrawn? He wondered. Are things going to change now that were a label? Is...she going to change?
No, he finally deduced; he knew she wanted him. In his mind's eye, the lustful look they exchanged danced like the rivers moonlit refraction. Tigerpool sat down beside Robin-nose, but not in the way he had sat down before. Before, he had been stringent but patient and calm. Tonight was the direst, opposite affair. He was loose and flowing in his dream-like state. The tom took his place. Tigerpool slyly surveyed the surrounding area. All the clans were here. Some were grouped generously while others, like themselves, paired up into small huddles along the outskirts.
The tabby extended his paw so that Robin-nose's seemingly fragile head was posted in front of his chest. She was not fragile. As much as he wished to protect her lithe and delicate form, the she-cat earned her warrior status. She even protected him when he had failed. What once stung, was now one of Tigerpool's most prized memories. Despite her bewildering skill, Robin-nose never bragged or seemed to care... he imagined the she-cat's sunning form, the lackluster drop of her eyes. Now, she met him with a reservation. does she...regret this To mollify his brief moment of anxiety Tigerpool found solace in the arduous thumping of her chest.
"Do you hear my heartbeat" he breathed softly allowing the tips of his whiskers to bow onto her ears. There was no one else here, not even the distant chattering of friends and enemies.
i want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think. -Rumi
As the cat from Thistleclan introduced himself as Eggpelt, Mousesong tried to keep her features as calm as possible. He was excited to be here, and if it wasn't for this blasted headache she would be too. After all she was among new cats and could learn so much from them and she was always intrigued by new things, but the every present pulsing was diminishing that curious ambition.
Apparently she didn't hide her winces at the loud tom well and he quickly apologized and lowered his voice to help her out. Maybe not everyone in Thistleclan was the temperamental kind that the patrol had the unfortunate event of running into. Her back still strung from some of the scars she had received by two of the warriors from Eggpelts home, but at least here, he didn't seem nearly as hostile. Then again, she wasn't trespassing. So maybe that was a bit on her.
At his question she flicked her ears some as if trying to figure out how to respond. "This is actually my first gathering ever," she admitted softly, her tail flicking a bit embarrassed, "I tended to...attract trouble as an apprentice whenever i went on patrols so...Finchstar usually thought it best I stay home for Gatherings. So headache or not, i didn't want to give up this opportunity."
It also doesn't help that a lot of our warriors were injured in the recent attack on Lichenclan...but i think it is best not to mention that. She paused a moment then smiled at him. "and thank you for the comments of our home. i do quite enjoy it. You home is interesting as well, though..." she kind of trailed off thinking of some of the old stories her mom used to to tell her about the other clans. She was sure most of it was made up, but just for conversation sake it wouldn't hurt to ask, "I am curious. Do you all really live underground like moles?"
She kept her tone light hoping that she wouldn't insult him, but she didn't really have any other way to ask. She lifted a paw and swiped at her muzzle as another small stream of wet left it. A drippy nose on top of her headache? She must look like a mess. Great first impression Mousesong.
Word Count: 383 Tags: kaz Notes: Mousesong is fine.....>.>
you must go on adventures to find where you truly belong. -Sue fitzmaurice
Training. Those weren't training scars. At least not ones that he was accustomed to seeing. Yes sometimes training sessions got heated, but never to a point that a clan mate would come away looking like they had survived a tussle with a porcupine or badger. As her gaze shifted to a nearby tom from her clan, Cloudstep narrowed his eyes slightly. He had so many things he wanted to do and say. He glanced up at where the leaders sat then flicked his ears. Thievingstar would have his pelt if he caused a disruption of the peace.
He was about to ask a few more questions, but then a new cat approached with a young apprentice. He flicked his ears as the Redwoodclanner placed himself between the two. It had been weeks since he had got to see Snowfeather. He just wanted to make sure she was actually okay, and to express some concerns of his own about their meetings. Thievingstar had made new rules and he was going to have to come up with another plan to see her, but he had some in mind.
As the new cat introduced himself and his apprentice Cloudstep nodded in slight greetings, trying to keep his irritation to a minimum. It wasn't their faults. No need to show hostility toward them, especially the apprentice. The kit had done nothing. "Greetings to you both," he said quietly noticing that Snowfeather had relaxed a bit talking to the two new arrivals. Maybe his intentions hadn't been hidden so well. "I am Cloudstep from Thistleclan."
As Snowfeather turned her attention to the apprentice, Cloudstep found his gaze resting on the grey tom just out of her gaze. The way he sat told Cloudstep everything he needed to know. He was uncomfortable. Good. He better stay that way and hope i don't get near him after the gathering has been ended.
Post by fallenreaper on Jun 30, 2020 17:33:10 GMT -6
Barkpaw RedwoodClan
Barkpaw’s golden eyes looked to his mentor and caught the caution in the warning. Even being only six moons old, the young apprentice could see the tension in the striped tom.
A sense of self-preservation surfaced and his stride increased, keeping his front alongside Rowanpath’s hind legs. With a sparse look, he assessed the various clan cats. Gradually his gaze rose to the rocks where the leaders sat. Barkpaw’s attention rested on a tom that didn’t match with Minnow’s description, at least not the one he had been told. He lingered a bit longer than was needed before breaking contact. Lowering his head, the apprentice chose silence rather than voicing his questions. From his mentor’s reaction, he wisely guessed this wasn’t the right time and continued to casually observe the gathering. He doubted anyone would notice his shifting looks as he was a newcomer here.
It appeared to him that his clan wasn’t the only one having issues. He barely made out the large gash on Thievingstar’s neck wound. It glistened in the moonlight as if Starclan shined attention on it for all to see it. Before he could ponder more on the possible cause, he caught the whiff of unfamiliar scents, and he snapped his head back to the front. They were approaching an unfamiliar pair of cats. One smelled like Thistleclan's description, but the other had more of a saltwater and birch scent.
His fur bristled at Rowanpath’s reassurance. Worry and concern flickered across his eyes before fading into indifference. Barkpaw kept up his pace alongside his mentor as they approached, his ears perked and nose memorizing the differences in their smell. When they came into the proximity of the pair, the apprentice hesitated. His action caused him to drift farther behind Rowanpath. Much to his relief, the warrior took the lead then nodded him over. With a timid footing, Barkpaw walked up beside his mentor and took a seat. It appeared they had interrupted a casual chat between the two. His right ear flickered at the introductions, but he said nothing.
Not at first.
The ruddy tom observed the white cat’s glance and followed it, a soft shift in direction. The female appeared to be looking to the cream-colored one on the rocks for something. Permission or punishment? Barkpaw questioned the purpose, but he didn’t air his guesses. Instead, he quietly waited for her to engage the conversation.
His tail made a small, relaxed swish at the Lichenclan’s cat refusal to hold a grudge. He spotted the nasty wound on her face as she turned her head. The young apprentice’s thoughts wondered which of his clanmates had maimed Snowfeather until her question derailed his thoughts. Another gentle swish of his tail happened, his mind turned inward and his shyness showed with the time it took to answer.
The subtle nod from the white cat to grey tom hadn’t gone unnoticed, even when the Cloudstep also glanced that direction. A bad feeling swept over Barkpaw, but he kept it under control. It was likely an overreaction on his part from the unfamiliar location.
“Y-y-yes.” Barkpaw stumbled over his words to answer Snowfeather first. Oh mouse dung, why am I acting like a stupid kit?
He cleared his throat and focused, “The sights, scents, texture, and sounds are all new to me. It was less trembling and more trying not to become distracted. I will admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect for my first gathering. I overheard some warriors talk about it, but it’s very different now that I’m here.”
The young apprentice hoped his voice sounded stronger to them than it did to him. Not wanting Cloudstep to think he was ignoring him, he tacked on a small greeting. “Oh, and hello to you too. I'm not very good with conversations, my sister is better at them. She knows how to shift from one topic to another easily.”
There hadn’t much point in denying something he displayed so easily. He risked a glance at Rowanpath, a subtle hint if he was on the correct path or not for their chatter. The young apprentice just hoped he didn't reveal something bad.
Briarpaw greeted the other medicine cats with a polite nod and her head held high. For tonight, at least, she was their equal. Though she may still be -paw in name, she was at the gathering representing LichenClan as the only present medicine cat. It was certainly a first for her. Curiously, she eyed the young tabby that followed Orchidshade, but figured there would be time for appropriate introductions later. ”Good evening,” she mewed once Ratwhisker and Orchidshade had found their seats. Her voice was gentle, friendly in tone, but quiet enough that it only carried to her immediate neighbords; the other medicine cats.
”You might notice that Minnowstar and Cinderface are absent. There has been, ah, a disagreement in our Clan.” She was aware of Hemlockheart seated with the other leaders and she was careful to keep her voice and posture mild as if she was exchanging simple small talk with the other medicine cats. With the way her Clan was right now, she didn’t know who she could trust and who would sell her out. Until the rebellion had a more concrete plan, she would have to tread carefully and keep up appearances. ”Minnowstar and Cinderface have taken most of the Clan to confess before StarClan at the moonpool instead tonight. Hemlockheart insisted a group come to the gathering and Minnowstar,”insulted him,”allowed it. Cinderface let me come in her place. I trust everything is well in your Clans?”
Her ears angled forward slightly. At face value, it sounded like a foolish question. Of course things weren’t well. With all the fighting going on between all three Clans, the other medicine cats surely had their paws full of wounds to treat and hurts to fix. But Briarpaw was trying to find a way to ask about the lungwort. Had Orchidshade made it to the tribe with the medicine? Had there been any serious ramifications since their half moon fiasco? Deeply, the tabby wished she could be more open with Ratwhisker and Orchidshade, but that would have to wait for another time. For now, she would speak in code.
Of course, Redcloud couldn’t hide simply by keeping his head down. It was only a matter of time before Hazelpaw found his way over to him. A strange mix of fear and excitement mixed in the red warrior’s belly and he kept his eyes firmly focused on his own paws, his ears flat against his skull as the apprentice spoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Snowfeather with a ThistleClan cat and two RedwoodClan cats. Maybe without Minnowstar breathing down their necks, they wouldn’t get in trouble.
But it felt like too much to hope for. Politely, he listened in silence as Hazelpaw went on about not recieving his warrior name yet. Butterflies fluttered in Redcloud’s stomach at the thought of his own warrior name, so preciously earned and put off for too long by talking to this very cat. But none of that was Hazelpaw’s fault…
”I’m okay,” he muttered. ”It’s just… at the last gathering, when we spoke… it made Minnowstar really angry. I wasn’t expecting it. Others got in trouble too. My warrior ceremony was put off and I think I got off easiest of all of my Clanmates.” He chanced a glance up at Hazelpaw and heaved a sigh.
”But… Minnowstar isn’t here tonight.” A bit of hope dared to creep into his mew. ”And my name’s not Redpaw.” He lifted his chin slightly, feigning indignance. ”It’s Redcloud, thank you very much.” Despite his words, his tone was lightening and there was a small smile on his face. Maybe this could just be a normal gathering…
Much to her dismay, the silver she-cat chose to introduce herself to Lavendermist, her voice as soft and tender as the downy feathers of a newborn bird, so much so, that the calico knew she couldn’t dismiss her, not without looking like the rudest cat on the island. Besides, Lavendermist realized. She didn’t want to ignore Mistflower. She wanted to talk with cats from other clans, cats her own age, and make friends, even if she would be condemned for it. Tentatively, her gaze flitted from Hemlockheart to the silver she-cat and then back toward the falls before she decided to break her silence and meow her own, meek introduction. “Hi,” she murmured, blushing faintly beneath the she-cat’s kind gaze. She wasn’t used to such a friendly face. “I’m Lavendermist.”
Blinking, the dilute calico listened as Mistflower asked about Lichenclan, the she-cat’s gaze flicking back toward the falls. She wanted to know about Minnowstar, Lavendermist breathed as her stomach froze, startled by the she-cat’s question. What was she supposed to say? But before she could even formulate a response, another Thistleclan she-cat settled down beside Mistflower and introduced herself as Willowshine, her voice much louder but flecked with the same addictive kindness. “Oh,” Lavendermist breathed. “I’m Lavendermist.” With a slow breath, the calico turned back toward the falls, relieved that Willowshine’s entrance derailed their earlier conversation.
She had no idea what Hemlockheart wanted them to do. Was she supposed to tell the truth? That Minnowstar had barred them from the falls tonight? That anyone who went would probably be punished later? That the rest of their clan was being led in a communal confession? Lavendermist would sound insane. She couldn’t tell them.
With a small sigh, the she-cat settled further onto her haunches. When suddenly Willowhsine broke the silence with her startled meow, turning to look back at her with amber eyes the size of the moon above the island. Thistle and thorns! The she-cat thought with a visible wince. Exhaling, she decided to tell them the first excuse that came to her mind. “No,” she meowed, shaking her head as she tried to think of something remotely believable and clever to say. “He won’t be Hemlockstar for quite some time yet.” Her eyes rose to blue-pointed tom in front of the falls, as her mind turned, desperately seeking for an answer, and then it hit her. She knew what to tell them. “Minnowstar wasn't feeling well,” her eyes returned to both of the Thistleclan she-cats. “And Cinderface wanted her to remain in camp to rest."
She didn’t want to make her clan look weak, but she knew the truth would be much, much worse. “She's not seriously ill or anything," the she-cat added hesitantly. "I honestly think she just ate some bad fish," Lavendermist meowed with a forced chuckle, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.Swallowing, the dilute calico redirected her gaze back toward the waterfall, antsy to have the conversation shift in another direction. Her eyes focused then on the dark-coated Thistleclan leader, noticing the uneasiness that flickered beneath her fur. Did something happen in Thistleclan recently? She wondered. “How are things in Thistleclan?” she meowed softly, looking back toward the other two she-cats.
ension and unease were as pungent as the damp moss that permeated the Sacred Lands. The waterfall roared and rumbled on its journey down a rocky path and its relentless waves spat in the collective muzzle of the anxious clan cats. Even the indifferent Graygaze could feel the oppressive atmosphere weigh on him like mud. Eyes darted back and forth, whispers carried over the water, warriors schemed. The korat frowned. Jovial dialogues between strangers were laced with suspicion and intrigue, all for the sake of precious information. Graygaze found such pursuits exhausting - not worthy of his time.
"Not fond of our tradition of moonlit socializing I see?"
It took the introverted tom a moment before realizing the question had been for him. Despite himself, the warrior jolted upon realizing his company's identity. Lightwater. She'd been a warrior during the ThistleClan tom's apprentice days. Like all of the other apprentices at the time, he found the somali she-cat very attractive. During gatherings they'd dare each other to talk to her but inevitably they'd never muster the nerve. Those were good days. Most of those apprentices were dead now. Graygaze could imagine them in StarClan, their exhilerated cheering aimed at him as they watched this situation unfold.
Bee-brains.
"Not really..."
It was all the tom could think to say. Of course, he really wanted to implore as to the whereabouts of Minnowstar and the majority of her clan, but he figured he wouldn't get a truthful reply. He did, however, let an amused purr slip when the elder warrior noted her fondness for gossip.
"It's not all that interesting. Introductions. Apprentices who have no idea what they're doing. Forbidden romance." Graygaze huffed. "Nothing I haven't heard before. It gets predictable. We'll stand around for a while and lie about how deep in fox dung we all are, then go home. Then we'll do it all again next moon."
"Name's Graygaze, by the way," he mewed with an awkward nod.
Rowanpath was relieved that the Lichenclan warrior didn't appear to hold a grudge, or to want any trouble at all. He nodded quietly. The warrior, Cloudstep, appeared irritated - though Rowanpath thought he was just overthinking the flick of the tom's ears. Gatherings were not typically as tense an occasion for the Clans, and Rowanpath was keen to uphold the tradition of peace. It was one of the ones he whole-heartedly agreed with. He only wished it would be implemented in other areas of Clan life.
"Besides, she beat me fair and square."
Sucked back into the moment, Rowanpath did have some reservations about her statement. He flinched slightly as he glanced at the marks across the molly's white face before she turned it away. Unfortunately, it was an impossible moment to express his true thoughts on it. He could only give her a sympathetic look to try to express the thoughts that tangled on the tip of his tongue.
"Welcome, Barkpaw..."
He followed the she-cat's, Snowfeather's, gaze over to Cloudstep, his brows instinctively furrowing out of curiosity - but he forced them apart so he wasn't completely transparent. Perhaps these other two warriors were trying to do the same, he realized with a sudden 'enlightenment'. Perhaps the tension was between them. Did these warriors have feelings for each other that stretched beyond casual chitchat at a gathering? He suppressed an agitated sigh, breathing it out through his nose instead. But, his gaze still hardened to betray his inner turmoil. Why can't we all just... be what we are? We're all trying to survive under the same sky, on the same damn island! Turning his attention back to the conversation being held by his apprentice and the LichenClan warrior, his expression forcibly softened. Stay cool, stay cool...
“The sights, scents, texture, and sounds are all new to me. It was less trembling and more trying not to become distracted. I will admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect for my first gathering. I overheard some warriors talk about it, but it’s very different now that I’m here....”
When his apprentice glanced up at him, Rowanpath gave what he intended to be a subtle nudge of encouragement. Though, because he was such a big cat, it was more like a small shove. He tried to cover that up with a small, sheepish grin. He remembered his first gathering rather fondly, when he really thought about it - but he didn't want to voice such thoughts to Barkpaw and give the young tom the wrong idea. This gathering was different than the ones Rowanpath had been to all those moons ago.
He turned his attention back to the ThistleClan warrior, Cloudstep, and followed the other tom's glare. It seemed to be resting on a group of LichenClan cats. Hmm, if he hates them so much, why was he sitting right next to one? Rowanpath wondered. "It's always great to find good company from all sides of the island at a gathering.. to see their-your side of things," he meowed suddenly, a bit of a careful tone in his voice as he glanced between the warriors, "tensions have been so high lately, I wonder for how long we will all be able to hold such a shaky truce with each other. There is always another way for our Clans to co-exist... Well..." he shifted his weight to the other side of his body, "I hope I'm not the only one to see it that way. Wouldn't it be better; if, the friends we've made, we didn't have to one day face in battle? I mean, you two seem to be friends, I think," he was speaking of Snowfeather and Cloudstep, "Enough to sit together in this sort of climate, anyway. What would you do if you had to fight each other? Would you turn your claws on each other?"
