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.
Robin-nose flicked an anxious ear beneath Tigerpool’s tender stare, her blush spreading further across her face. He didn’t say anything in response to her question, his maws only curling into an infectious smile, a look that sent an electric pulse into her toes. He didn’t have to say anything. She knew his answer. Lowering her lids, the she-cat moved further into the crowd, leading Tigerpool by the faint touch of her tail until they settled somewhere near the center, entirely surrounded but utterly alone. Even with cats around them, their eyes as luminous as the moon above as they watched the falls in a bated hum, Robin-nose felt like she was in her own world and Tigerpool was the only other inhabitant.
Coiling into a delicate sit, the lithe she-cat held her breath as Tigerpool sat beside her, his flank flush against her coat, his warm breath pooling over her neck. With a tender touch, the tom used his paw to direct her head toward his chest so she could hear the rhythmic pounding of his heart, each beat like the soothing cadence of a much needed rain. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, her breath stilling as she listened, losing herself in the shadows of his caress. When he meowed, his voice low and soft against her ear, she felt herself exhale, her eyes fluttering open at the sound. “Yes,” she murmured as her doubts and anxieties melted into the summer stars, the moon above like a luminous basin of translucent water, a reflection of the falls below.
Canting her brow, Robin-nose caught his gaze, a transparent lust flicking behind her eyes. “I don’t know why I was afraid,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the falls, the loud thumping of his heart. “But, I’m not anymore.” She knew then that she didn’t care what her clan-mates or the other clan cats thought tonight. This, the touch of his whiskers over her head, the vibration of his chest against her flank, that was what she wanted; and as her gaze flickered toward the waterfall, and she curiously noted Minnowstar’s absence, Robin-nose realized how irritated she was for not realizing it sooner, for the days and nights she had missed by his side at the fault of her own idiotic mistakes. There was so much wasted time between them, and all at once, with a sudden thud of her heart, she wanted to make amends, to fix the time she had lost with the cat she cared about most.
With a soft mew, the she-cat murmured so only Tigerpool could hear. "I wish we were somewhere else." Her flank sunk further into his touch. "Somewhere where we could be alone." Her lids lowered across her eyes as she stared at the inevitable tension beneath the falls. "Far away from here."
Post by wolfiedemon on Jul 5, 2020 19:47:55 GMT -6
Hazelpaw glanced around at those gathered and saw that there were various groupings of cats from all of the clans. The ones he focused on the most were the ones that involved other RedwoodClan and LichenClan cats. If Redpaw, got in trouble for talking to him, then the others would get into just as much. It wouldn't be fair to the smaller red tom to be the only one receiving punishment. When he heard that the smaller tom had been made a warrior already Hazelpaw couldn't help but jump to his feet. "Thats wonderful news Redcloud!" He made sure to say the cats new name. He wanted to get a feel for the name. It suited him with how long his fur was, fluffy like a cloud.
Hazelpaw quickly sat back down, not meaning to draw attention to the pair. Luckily however, Redcloud was right, there was no sign of Minnowstar. The older, battle-scarred she-cat was no where in sight. He wondered if this was a good or bad thing... Good in his mind cause that meant the pair could talk without and consequences. Atleast that is what he hoped for. Their last conversations was ended so abruptly by the appearance of the tribe cat that he didn't get the chance to have a decent conversation with him.
The brown tom started to fiddle with his feet in the dirt. He was feeling a little embarrassed by his outburst. He was just really excited to hear that his hopefully new friend had been made a warrior. "I hope to receive my name soon. My mentor was to speak to Finchstar about it but he has yet to give me one. He's probably just busy being a dad." He wasn't holding it against Finchstar for not receiving his name yet. He knew that the leader was busy with other things besides his kits. But he wasn't going to go into it in case other cats were listening. Mentioning his kits was probably safer then anything. He gave the smaller tom a smile. "How have things been on your side?"
The ascent to Thievingstar's usual sitting place was not as graceful as it had been in moons past, and more than once she had to unsheath her claws to grip the slippery rocks, forcing her bad leg to bear her weight. Settling on her haunches next to the LichenClan deputy, she took a moment to contemplate her acidic “greeting." She and Hemlockheart had exchanged few words since he had become deputy. While there was not likely to be a vocal sparring match with Minnowstar tonight as per tradition, she was eager to see how the lynx point would do in verbal combat. A snarl twisted her features.
"Where is your feisty leader? sneered the black-she cat with a curled lip. "Did she forget to bathe in her holy waters to wash off all that sin?" Thievingstar leaned in close with her final word, spittle peppering the deputy's nose. "Or is it time I finally addressed you as Hemlockstar?" Her own muzzle crinkled as she assessed him with cruel, icy eyes. No. He doesn't have the swagger for that. Not yet.
Snorting, she turned to Finchstar, whose mangled appearance far exceeded any wounds she bore that night. The molly recognized those claw marks anywhere. She grimaced, running her tongue across her fangs and smacking her lips with astonishment at his missing eye. "Did he do that?" she asked bluntly, jerking her head toward the deputy on her other side. It wasn't like her to be chummy, but she did have a soft sport for the wimpy tom. Nudging her shoulder against his, she offered Finchstar a cocky smile. "Well now! Good to see you're still standing after a blow like that. We're half-blind buds, you and me."
Swansong kept a decent pace with her brother, gliding smoothly beside him as the moonlight danced on their pelts. He was oddly forward in his position in the group as the clan moved toward the roaring sound of the falls, and while she would usually remain at the back of the party, she felt more confident now at his side than lingering last in line -- especially knowing that they were on the same team in the war, too.
Her gaze fell to the cream-colored tom, every stride lanced with anger. Perhaps Hemlockheart isn't who I thought he was, she mused. It was not like him to go against their leader's wishes, but she was relieved that he had. Her mere attendance tonight was likely to catch Minnowstar's attention as well, but at least Quickstrike wouldn't be alone. If they were punished, she'd stand by him together this time -- and have Hemlockheart to back them up. For once.
As Quickstrike peeled off toward the edge of the group, Swansong began to follow him, but then thought the better of it. He wasn't a kit anymoe -- he didn't need her following him everywhere to make sure he didn't get into any trouble. Sighing, she wheeled around and tried to find a group to speak with, but her nerves -- and the nagging doubt that Hemlockheart was watching -- kept her from seeking out cats from other clans. Ashfrost, seated away from the others, caught her attention. She approached him with a question in her eyes and upon her tongue. "You're not mingling?" The silver molly tucked her chin to her chest and groomed herself with a few nervous licks. "Not that I blame you, after everything that's... happened."
287 words | wolfiedemonAnnie (Quickstrike mentioned) | she's talking to angry boi
Post by wolfiedemon on Jul 6, 2020 19:46:07 GMT -6
Ashfrost
LichenClan Warrior
From where Ashfrost was sitting, he was able to keep an eye on the leaders that were gathered together. In place of Minnowstar, Hemlockheart was standing with the leaders of ThistleClan and RedwoodClan. He was unable to hear what was being said from where he was seated but it looked like they were getting along, despite the fact that FinchStar and Hemlockheart had just been a part of the major battle that didn't happen that long ago. Ashfrost could still feel Ravenfeather's claws from where the black tom had managed to get in some hits. A wicked smile starting to creep up on the blue toms maw at the thought of the parting gift he had left the younger tom.
Ashfrost quickly hid his smile as he heard a cat approaching. He looked up to see that it was Swansong. He hadn't expected any from his Clan to join him in his solitude, but here she was. He scooted over some so as not to feel like they were too friendly with each other. He didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. She sat and started to clean herself after asking him a question he wasn't really expecting, but at the same time it only made sense. Why wasn't he mingling with the other cats.....
"If you truly want to know Swansong...." He looked around at the other cats. Some of them he recognized from the battle, and then there was Snowfeather not that far from them. One of the cats with her kept giving him the stink eye. He would give anything to be able to run up and scratch his eyes out. But he couldn't. Not here, not tonight. "I would rather sit back and watch then converse with some of these cats. After what I did in the presence of some of them, and what I did to one in particular... I think it would be best if I stuck to the outskirts." He spoke to her in a calm and even voice, noticing that she looked a little nervous to be sitting anywhere near him.
"I didn't get to see your battle with Hemlockeart. How did it go before we were interrupted by that ThistleClan cat. What was his name again? Slatestep?" He was trying to have a polite conversation with the she-cat. His communication skills were lacking as of late. Most cats he talked to were his brother, his apprentice that wouldn't stop asking questions, and as of late Nightclaw.
As Mousesong's question bounced off his ears, he chuckled a bit, reminding him of a memory from moons ago.
He feigned an incredibly offended expression, as if Mousesong had disrespected the faith of the more rigid Lichenclan cats, then prattled, "I dare a mole to dig a hole that's as grand as one from Thistleclan."
He then returned to his cool demeanor. "Dumb huh? My mom used to say that to me all the time when I was a kit."
"You are correct, however. We do sleep underground. In fact, that's part of getting a proper name. We all are responsible for digging out our own bespoke homes and adding to the network before becoming warriors. I myself took the time to carve out something large and comfy for me, and guests. Keeps us safe, and sleeping is like being back in the womb."
He failed to mention his large den was located a little farther away from the others, and had few connections.
"I like to spend time up top, among the pines though. There's nothing to hunt down there."
Eggpelt took a moment to reflect on her other mention of this being her first gathering, and wondered what kind of trouble could gravitate toward someone so small and soft-spoken. Looking the small warrior up and down, he was reminded of the reports that Yewthorn had given of the night of rouge attack. He and Owlfang had been beset by a party from Mousesong's home, attempting to cross the sandbar. This cat certainly could have been the small one that escaped with whatever they were trying to cross with.
"That kind of trouble. If she was...maybe she can tell me what's up."
"Well, anyways, I congratulate your tenacity. If your trouble happened to happen at our border, then I guess you can have the solace of knowing that y'all gave it to my mentor pretty good. Depending on who you talk to, he had it coming." A bit of that Thistleclan sharpness slipped out, and it didn't seem to translate well, according to Mousesong's expression.
Hopefully, she'd be willing so forgive his own faux pas, after all he was trying to be on his best behavior.
"What? It was just a joke, he'd probably say something worse. Listen, about that, I hope this isn't too forward, but there's some heresay and rumor about it here."
She could probably perceive his next question, but the best way to know something was to ask.
"Mousesong, is it true? Is there really a fourth clan across the water?"
Hemlockheart surveyed the clearing as first ThistleClan and then RedwoodClan dispersed around the moon-lit waterfall. The deputy relished in the power he felt up top the rocks, watching from above as the scents of all three clans melded together. He stared with narrowed eyes, noting multiple warriors had intermingled themselves with the heathens and bastards of the other colonies. His feathered tail lashed, irritably tapping against the stone beneath. Minnowstar would have them baptized. But the deputy wondered if he would have them baptized. He had always righteously gone along with Minnowstar, knowing that StarClan spoke through the disheveled she-cat. But now he doubted the molly's connection to the stars. She had betrayed the tradition of their ancestors, what else has she betrayed? Minnowstar had said that they weren't to mingle, but what did StarClan say? What did he say?
Hemlockheart was pulled from his thoughts when both Theivingstar and Finchstar pathetically climbed the rocks. His eyes lingered momentarily on the gash on the black leader's neck, before facing the eyeless Finchstar. When the black tabby looked his way, Hemlockheart raised his head defiantly. Even despite his doubts in his own leader, the lynx-point knew that LichenClan's victory and Finchstar's death was apart of StarClan's plan. Their ancestors favor in the lake-side clan was obvious with the glow of their warriors. He knew then that he didn't care about who Snowfeather or any warrior was talking to. They had proved their strength in the mooncave, and won.
Thieivingstar's tongue did not match her labored ascension up the boulders. He was scorched by the dark leader's sudden fire. Her accusations like claws, striking against him and all the tension built up from the happenings only a few moments earlier. He bared his fangs. "Minnowstar is protecting what is rightfully ours." The half-lie felt odd on his tongue, knowing the leader was doing the exact opposite. It was better than letting all of LichenClan's politics be known, though. Then she continued on as if to mock him. Yet Hemlockheart felt no remorse for what he did to the smaller tom. "His eye was a small price to pay for the Mooncave."
It was then that the lanky tom took center stage, summoning the attention of the cats below with his bold presence. "LichenClan remains the sole protectors of StarClan and the Mooncave. And thus, our blessings are bountiful. Not only has StarClan blessed us with kits, but we've had several new additions to our apprentice and warrior ranks. Leopardface, Rosemaryfang, Lavendermist, Riverblaze, Creekshade, and Redcloud are the strong warriors of the future."
"StarClan continues to stand by us, and we will continue to fight for them." He turned to Finchstar momentarily, his last words a silent threat. Then he took his place behind the other leaders.
he briefest beat of a moment passed. Mistflower followed the dilute calico's quick glance towards the leaders and back. The glance seemed to set the LichenClan warrior on a path of resolve, and with a quiet voice revealed her name: Lavendermist. "Oh how neat, we share a part of our names! Mistflower, Lavendermist." It was a quiet, friendly remark, Mistflower's small attempt to find a connection between them other than the tension that raged between the three clans. As she moved the conversation forward, and attempted to glean some information at the same time, Mistflower felt another cat near them. A familiar scent washed over Mistflower's senses, and as she finished her question her pale green gaze flicked over to confirm that it was Willowshine who approached. Her fellow ThistleClan warrior more directly asked about Hemlockheart than Mistflower had had the courage for. She returned her gaze to Lavendermist, her stomach fluttering with anxiety at the possibility that the Clan dynamics could be changing dramatically if Hemlockheart was now Hemlockstar.
Lavendermist had a physical reaction to the question. The she-cat's green eyes seemed to almost plead with Hemlockheart for assistance, but the tom was not coming. Mistflower shifted to better observe Lavendermist, ears pricked forward to catch her response. Not Hemlockstar...Minnowstar sick? Something didn't seem right about that. From the image Mistflower had constructed of Minnowstar, the disheveled leader did not seem one to let a bad fish take her down. We're not the only ones with something to hide. She realized, as Lavendermist inquired about ThistleClan's well being.
Mistflower shifted, Willowshine's presence made the pale she-cat self-conscious. What if I say the wrong thing? "We've had some tussles," she tried to read Willowshine's mind to make sure she wasn't blundering. Mistflower may have been older by one moon, but she felt like a kit when around her clanmates "like any clan has, but we've overcome them." she hurriedly concluded. Mistflower shifted then, lightly stretching her injured leg. The trek to the waterfall followed by sitting during the conversation was forming a cramp. She grimaced a bit, not wanting to draw attention to her injury but needing to work the cramp out. "If, uh, I could stop hurting myself I'd be doing pretty good." she mumbled in an attempt to shake off the discomfort she felt was screaming at the cats around her. Her voice was almost inaudible with the noise of the waterfall and surrounding conversations filling the night with noise.
But then silence began to fall, and Mistflower whipped her eyes onto the stones where the leaders stood. Hemlockheart had stepped forward, and as conversations trickled into silence the deputy spoke out for all to hear. His words spoke of strength and power. But he said nothing of Minnowstar, nothing other than announcing the new warriors in LichenClan's ranks. Mistflower flicked her tail in a friendly way on Lavendermist's shoulder when Hemlockheart announced her name. Congratulations. The gesture read, but Mistflower quickly returned her focus to the lynx-point tom. He stepped back, a final, vague jab tossed to the RedwoodClan leader. What does that mean? She realized that Finchstar looked as grizzly, if not more, than Thievingstar. A black hole resided on the tom's face where once a shining green eye had peered with care and friendliness at those around him. As the next leader stepped forward, hushed mumbles of conversation rippled through the gathering. Mistflower leaned close to Willowshine and Lavendermist. "Did RedwoodClan and LichenClan have a battle?" she whispered "Finchstar's eye..." her question was unspoken, but she wondered did some cat in LichenClan do that to the tom?
∙ cinderface ∙ mistflower ∙ fog that hangs in air ∙ loudstorm ∙ sun that shines above ∙ aspenpaw ∙ aster ∙ eaglefang ∙ leafdapple ∙ orchid that blooms by night ∙ sparrowheart ∙ frostkit ∙
Gathering night. He had never been particularly fond of the things, what with the even larger amount of cats than he liked to be around. But he was a dutiful warrior, and when told to go to a gathering he wouldnt refuse. At least this time Yewthorn wouldnt be there to flirt with literally every she-cat he came across. No, this time Spruceshade could find a spot and simply watch in peace without being introduced around.
He followed his clanmates closely, the paler parts of his fur shining in the moonlight. He cursed his lighter pelt, especially on gathering nights, no matter how quiet his pawsteps, his very fur betrayed him. But as usual, there was nothing to be concerned about, as the Thistleclan contingent flowed into the gathering area and spread out. Some to speak with cats they knew, others to sit in groups of their own clan. Spruceshade took up a position on the outskirts, not deliberately far away from anyone, but also not close. Then he proceeded to sweet clear blue eyes over the gathering, and swivel his ears to attempt to catch snippets of conversation. It couldnt possibly be spying if he were simply taking in public discussions right?
But as he looked around, part of him yearned for someone to talk to, a friend, someone to keep him company.
you must go on adventures to find where you truly belong. -Sue fitzmaurice
The white and grey tom listened to the conversation between Barkpaw and Snowfeather in silence. She was good at talking to younger cats it seemed which was something he personally felt he struggled with at times. Yeah he had managed to make a decent relationship with Mistflower who was younger than himself but that had also been his sister. Listening and watching her, he felt the knotting in his stomach reappear. She was good with little ones. It made him....happy for some reason.
As Barkpaw's mentor spoke up again, Cloudstep blinked his blue eyes slowly and turned his attention to him. He let out a brief chuckle at the comment of a shaky truce and turned his gaze to the leaders sitting at the falls. In truth, Cloudstep's faith in Starclan wasn't the strongest. He knew their ancestors watched over them, but interacting was a different story. But each cat would think what they would.
At Rowanpath's question, Cloudstep turned his gaze back to the younger warrior. He was young, fairly young. Couldn't be much older if not the same age as his sister. And there was always talk of battles and skirmishes among the young, like it was a honor to fight at all times. He had been the same way when he first started off too. But things were changing. Other matters were more important to him than digging his claws into someone's pelt.
"We are friends," said Cloudstep glancing at Snowfeather before shifting his paws to relax a bit as he continued, "But even as friends we understand there are the rules of our clans that we must abide by. That doesn't mean we can't be civil and talk things out. In truth, more can be accomplished by taking time to actually speak to one another than to dig your claws into someone's hide to get a point across. Words get your point across clearly, actions muddle and give off the wrong impression...sometimes."
He glanced over at Snowfeather again, his mind drifting to a what-if scenario. What would he do should they meet on a battlefield or in a skirmish? He couldn't bring himself to raise a claw to her, but if he refused would he been seen as a traitor to his clan? "I'm not going to lie, Rowanpath...I'm not sure there is a good way to answer your question," he said quietly looking at the young warrior, "What one may or may not do in a heat of a moment differs from warrior to warrior. I respect Snowfeather and I's relationship that i would hope should our clans ever fight, we would not be the ones locking claws." He looked at the white she-cat then allowed a slight smirk to spread across his features. He hoped she wouldn't take this as offensive. If so...he would have a lot to make up for later. "Not to mention, i'm sure she would shred my hindquarters should we ever meet in battle. A cat doesn't obtain her mementos without have a fierce determination to them."
Word Count: 505 Tags: Snowcatalystafallenreaper Notes: Cloudstep sucks at secretly flirting. Snowfeather might claw him later for his words lol
i want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think. -Rumi
The young calico was doing her best to seem attentive. However her headache was gradually getting worse. As Eggpelt explained how Thistleclan dug den as part of their warrior ceremony, she quietly rubbed a paw over her face trying to clear away some of the fuzziness she could feel creeping up around her. She ran her tongue across the roof of her mouth and gave herself a small shake, her ears perking to alertness as the warrior commended her clan for beating up on his old mentor.
She looked at him a bit alarmed. She had been warned that THistleclan's demeanor were a bit harsher than one was used to, but she never imagined that they would thank others for causing one of their own harm. She was about to say something when he seemed to realize how he came off and quickly apologized. She allowed her ears and fur to relax, though with her headache it was getting hard. Maybe she needed to go find Orchidshade before the gathering started. However, the warrior asked her a question that she couldn't leave unanswered. He seemed genuinely curious, and concerned. Maybe they all needed to be.
"They aren't exactly a another clan," she corrected with a small smile, "They call themselves a tribe and their system of living is vastly far from our own. More...fluid and open than i would call our clans." She paused a moment shifting almost uncomfortably as she tried to figure out what to say next. She glanced over at Finchstar and Orchidshade hoping she wouldn't say to much to get herself into trouble later, but if others knew....maybe the hatred toward the tribe could lessen. "The tribe is not full of vicious and blood thirsty demons as Minnowstar would have some believe," she said quietly looking at the tom then nodded as if in confirmation, "Yes we've heard about the accusations. I'm not saying they are completely peaceful, they do have their own members to protect, but they are as curious about us as we are about them. I was on the patrol your clan tried to stop, and I do apologize for trespassing on your territory, but they are cats just like you and I. They deserve to be helped, not shunned away. I'm sure if other would take time to talk with them, get to know them like Redwoodclan is trying to, they would see that they are good cats, just wanting to survive like we do."
Mousesong watched Eggpelt quietly for his reaction but honestly she wasn't sure there was much else she could say. She smiled a bit at him and wrapped her tail a bit more about herself as she tried to suppress the shiver that wasn't to run up her spine. She just wanted her headache to go away, to curl up with Ravenfeather in their nest and sleep.
"Maybe it's time to conjure up interesting gossip ourselves, then," Lightwater let the smallest grin perk up her lips, letting Graygaze decipher the joke by himself. Lightwater wasn't the type to seek out conversation, but she was the type to seek out an audience for her show. Lightwater loved to correlate word battles between worthy like minded cats. But the secret to her wins is her initial dissecting period of her reaction with another being.
She loved to toy around with a cat's expectations just to provide their interesting and unique reactions, each one providing intricate strengths and weaknesses in their moral or behaviors that she could pick out just by a twitch of muscle to a sensitive pun. Psychology was an absolute passion for the somali.
But what would upturn genuine amusement from the she-cat was the announcement of Graygaze's name, coupled with an awkward nod. Lightwater had familiarized herself with any lingering name she could absorb throughout the gatherings, skirmishes and battles. Besides apprentices, which she never bothered to remember the names of, she took pride in her recognition skills.
"Oh, do not think I'd let any name slip my mind, Clanmate or not. I know who you are." Graygaze himself though, was a mystery how she gathered his name. It must have been his striking appearance, because the only thing that flashes through Lightwater's mind in relation to the warrior is being hypnotized by the shimmering gray painting his figure. This was definitely their first personal experience with each other, either that or his fame had not caught up to her.
"Now, a true fun game would include knowing if my name runs vividly in your Clan or not. I assume it correlates with legends of blood and victory? Or maybe a tale to scare kits?" There was no secret, even in Lightwater's perspective, that she was not a no name. Whether the details of her existence is known or not, with how long she's been around, she had had plenty of time to prove herself in her days. Lightwater had pride in the reputation she had managed to build up, especially when her skills as a warrior were highlighted.
But her awareness of what cats really know her for was her own sweet ignorant bliss. Lightwater knew she was, well, a good looking cat, but her mind had never been focused on her looks, and therefore really missed an opportunity to flaunt or take advantage of just how beautiful she was all her life. If any cat had ever crushed on her, she had never been aware. Love games was just never her specialty. But there's nothing to miss if she never experienced it.
FINCHSTAR | NIGHTCLAW | FALLENFIRE | MINTNOSE | SLEETWING | LIGHTWATER | RIVER WHERE LOTUS FALLS | DECEIT
Willowshine nodded, and took a seat beside her. When Lavendermist winced rather obviously, Willowshine's relaxed expression faltered. What happened? she wanted to ask suddenly, but Lavendermist went on to say that Minnowstar just wasn't feeling well and their medicine cat, Cinderface, wanted her to remain in camp to rest. Willowshine lifted her muzzle, feigning an understanding, "Oh, ok."
She side-eyed the LichenClan cat before trying to share a glance with Mistflower, feeling a twinge of suspicion. For how Lavendermist had reacted to her question in that fraction of a moment, her answer seemed... anticlimactic - to say the least. She continued on about it, surprisingly, clarifying that her leader must have merely eaten some bad prey. Her chuckle made Willowshine return a small, sympathetic smile.
Whatever it was that Lavendermist might have been hiding, though Willowshine wasn't sure that she was, she hoped it wasn't too awful. Not many cats liked Minnowstar, at least none that Willowshine had ever asked. It made her wonder what it must have been like to live under the highly-religious leader, and what sort of things must have been going on since several LichenClan and RedwoodClan cats carried injuries.
"How are things in ThistleClan?"
Willowshine's ears flattened and she pulled her paws closer together, unsure of the right thing to say. Tensions were clearly high between the other Clans, too, and she knew that revealing any sort of weakness on ThistleClan's behalf would earn her a tongue-lashing from none other than Thievingstar herself. If she could, she would do her best to avoid getting any new scars.
"We've had some tussles," Mistflower seemed just as unsure as she felt and, in a rush of empathy, she offered a firm and confident nod in agreement.
"Yeah, Thievingstar is a fierce warrior - we're lucky to have her as our leader," Willowshine added, and mentally cringed at herself for acting like such a suck-up when - at best - she disliked the black she-cat that sat by the falls making conversation with Finchstar and Hemlockheart. I wonder what they're talking about... probably Minnowstar's absence.
She took note of Mistflower's discomfort, feeling her shift and shake her leg. She opened her mouth to suggest she get up to stretch it, when suddenly a voice boomed out across the gathering. Hemlockheart. Willowshine returned her amber gaze to the leaders - and deputy. She kept her gaze on Hemlockheart as he announced new kits, apprentices, and more importantly - warriors. Six new warriors, to be exact. It surprised her that he was first to speak, though. I highly doubt that Thievingstar would let a deputy speak before a leader...
Willowshine let out a happy mrrow at Lavendermist, thought it was muffled by the sounds of other cats congratulating her and the other newly named warriors of LichenClan. Still, it seemed as though there were fewer voices showing their support than there were cats present. "Congratulations, Lavendermist," Willowshine said, though she was clearly distracted by the odd feeling of static tension in the air.
Upon Mistflower asking about a fight between LichenClan and RedwoodClan, Willowshine glanced between the two expectantly.
raygaze didn't get Hemlockheart. The blue point tom was no better than a rooster pointlessly crowing at the arrival of the morning sun. Disdain was etched in every word the LichenClan deputy spoke as he addressed the clans. It must have been exhausting to be so self-righteous day in and day out. Graygaze wearily shook his head. They could continue being StarClan's protectors if they so wished, so long as they kept their tails in line and stayed out of ThistleClan's affairs. Of course, the exhausted tom knew this was only wishful thinking.
Lightwater seemed utterly disinterested in her deputy's words. Her flirting didn't go under Graygaze's nose, either. He'd be more suspicious if he wasn't already mentally checked out of the gathering as a whole. Maybe this was just a dream and he'd wake up for morning patrol any second... actually, in that case he'd rather keep dreaming.
"No," he mewed. "We knew next to nothing about LichenClan's Lightwater. We were just mouse-brained apprentices fawning over your appearance. Nothing more." Graygaze didn't mean it as an insult. There was no malicious intent in his voice, no embarassment, no teasing. He spoke his mind plainly. If Lightwater was in search of more selacious verbal barbs, she had approached the wrong tom.
"We knew more about your father."
He needn't go on more after that. All at once Lightwater would be reminded of her father's shadow with just that one statement. Every cat knew of Riverfall's treachery: a stain on Lightwater's pelt that she could never quite shake. More than her feats as a warrior, more than her battle prowess, she was Riverfall's progeny first and foremost. Graygaze had heard that story for as long as he'd been going to these gatherings.
"I know it's not my place to judge you for it... but I think you were right." Graygaze flicked his ear, looking towards the stones in the middle of the waterfall. "You had to make a call in an impossible situation. Most cats, including myself, would have turned away. There's nothing in the code that can prepare you for something like that and... sorry. I'm out of line."
Graygaze awkwardly kneaded at the stones beneath him. What did he go and say all that for? She flirts with you and you go straight into bringing up her father? He didn't know her. She wasn't even a Clanmate. When she asked what legends her name was in, she definitely didn't mean that.
Mouth curled in a sinister smirk, the ebony leader watched the lynx-point seethe. His reply to her snark and subsequent announcement was serious, confident, unwavering...
Boring.
It was all Mooncave this and StarClan that. ThistleClan was not much better in their obsession with the rogues, but… stone walls didn't fight back. LichenClan's battles over that holy ground were their own doing. It was of no interest to her. The mangled molly expected a more venomous response to her unsheathed tongue, and she received little but a hiss and some predictable propaganda.
How dull.
When the LichenClan deputy finished, Thievingstar shoved her way past him. "Just between you and me," she murmured as he took his seat again, "some creativity would do you well. A joke or two. Some light banter. You're on top of the world up here. Live a little."
The ThistleClan leader then padded her way to the front of the rocks, wearing the bite mark on her neck like a badge of honor. Though the crusted wound symbolized no victory for her that snowy night at the cabin, she nonetheless thrust her head forward and lifted her chin, as if to prove to the entire audience that she had faced a great evil and survived. She would give no verbal acknowledgement of this feat, but the sight of her solid form atop the falls was bragging rights enough.
"ThistleClan is pining for more brilliant green-leaf days," she yowled out into the crowd. A pause followed. Get it? Pining? Evergreens? No? Perhaps the she-cat really was losing her mind. "We have taken full advantage of this season, training diligently. Our seven newest warriors are faring well." Yes, seven. Her nostrils flared at the boast, as if challenging the other clans with ThistleClan's sheer numbers. "In addition, Otterpaw, Shadepaw, and Tigerpaw have come of age to join our ranks as apprentices. We look forward to watching their progress."
Once more she resumed her sit between Hemlockheart and Finchstar. The latter was holding it together rather well, but this didn't stop her from offering him a bit of unsolicited encouragement out of habit. "Don't worry," she whispered to the black tabby. "You look sharp."
357 words | c a n n arain | Apparently going crazy for Thievingstar means puns galore idk xD
Swansong
LichenClan Warrior
Swansong's reply did not come easily as the memories of that thunderous night on the cliffs came rushing back. Snowfeather's injuries were appalling, and watching Ashfrost inflict them with his own paws made her stomach churn. What had come over him that day? While the Bengal was grateful that she had avoided being paired off with him during the battle, part of her wished she had taken Snowfeather's place. The poor she-cat had been through enough, even before the grey tom had unleashed his claws on her face. With a relatively unmarred pelt, Swansong felt rather lucky, all things considered.
"That's… probably for the best," was the most she could manage, shifting her eyes from her companion to the various groups chatting in the distance. None of the other cats were close enough to overhear, but she secretly wished that Ashfrost had chosen a spot a little closer to… someone, anyone. The awkwardness between them was more palpable than it could possibly be for any conversation she might have with a cat from outside her Clan. A sigh of relief whipped past her whiskers as he changed the subject, and she was quick to reply with a nervous laugh, "He got my toe, all right. A good chomp. It's healing fine though."
Briefly, her eyes unfocused as she recalled the sudden intruder. "Slatestep…" The name felt dry and dusty on her tongue, despite the torrent of rain that had brought the ex-ThistleClanner into their lives. Were things so bad in the pine forest that he thought LichenClan was a safer haven? There were rumors enough of foxes and outsiders, of course, but she had never known any of the earth-scented cats to flee their territory for the salty cliffs of her Clan.
The silver molly ceased her preening and became more serious, lowering her tone. "What do you think Minnowstar is going to do to him?"
His stare fell fondly like a blooming poppy. The warrior tabby watched the fluttering of the she-cat's lids. Which each tiny tremor his chest was taunted. Taunted so it raced after its yearning catch with the rise beside her shifting lids. And then, with her sultry murmur, she sauntered across his glade. He followed the metaphysical figure where his contours melted into her pelt. "yes", a single whisper solidified his lust. With this formation of guess's air they pressed into a rocky foundation. On this slate he lay to rest the beckoning call of the hungry coyote. A coyote left to scavenge the last of his doubts. It was filled. It was fed. Not a single scrap spotted his distant horizons.
Tigerpool swallowed. He felt the rise of her head against the cascade of trickling vibrations.
"Life's...to short." he mumbled with a sighing exhale; the tops of his words curling into an inaudible hush that brought his blood to flight against his tabby pelt. I need you so much, he thought with a purr. Then, her words that followed were a serendipitous kiss amid the crashing holler of falls. Tigerpool's gaze swiveled briefly. They caught an awkward shift of silver that darted through the moon's lavish light. Wait.
Tigerpool lifted his chin from their moment. Hemlockheart!?What is Hemlockheart doing on the high rock? As if a knee-jerk reaction, his claws unsheathed but he strained to peel them back. If Robin-nose had noticed, he dismissed the notion as soon as words left the silver deputy (or was it "leader"?)'s, maw.
"Yeah let's go." Tigerpool breathed, but only after a disheveled snort, and turned his attention into her feathered ears. He rose to his paws and already started to mosey through the occupied crowd so that his large frame danced in their unified, nightly forms. He turned back to catch the stare of his companion. Tigerpool allowed a grin to soften his jowls as he beckoned her with his tail towards the back and past the falls. The dissipating spray grew ever more sparse as they lead themselves from the flock. Soon only a spotted mixture of familiar faces met their stares who only drank upon each other. They kept their travels close but far as the cats slunk into the shadows.
Lavendermist raised her brows as the silver Thistleclan she-cat remarked about their shared names, a faint blush coloring the crests of her cheeks. “Oh,” she meowed breathlessly, “that is neat.” A small smile curled across her maws. She wasn’t used to this kind of conversation. It felt, the she-cat realized with a flutter in her chest. Intimate. Small talk in her clan often felt forced, like her clan-mates had to fill the stilted silence with curt observations and idle sound. It never felt like this. With a delicate look, the calico observed the other two she-cats, wondering if they believed her lie or not, and then she shifted on her feet, listening intently as Mistflower answered her first, the silver she-cat sharing a wary look with her clan-mate before speaking.
She nodded, her eyes widening as Mistflower mentioned the tussle. Was it Redwoodclan? Lavendermist wondered with a slight cock of her head. Or rogues? But the silver she-cat never clarified, and Willowshine’s comment did little to make the situation clearer. The Lichenclan she-cat’s stare darted back to the falls, her eyes lingering over the glistening wound on Thievingstar’s neck, a deep gash that shimmered in the full moonlight. Redwoodclan couldn’t have done that, she thought with a shiver. She couldn’t envision someone in their clan inflicting such a wound. Minnowstar or Hemlockheart could wound someone like that, she thought as her stare shifted to Finchstar’s mauled face. But not Redwoodclan. It had to be rogues. With a small inhale, the calico shifted her attention back to the two Thistleclan’s she-cats, her brows raising in surprise as Mistflower commented on her own health.
“You’re hurt?” Lavendermist whispered with a flicker of shock. The silver she-cat didn’t seem to be wounded, but before the calico could think about it further, Hemlockheart silenced the falls with a definitive stride forward, his musculature silhouette outlined beneath the luminous moon. Lavendermist shrunk into the earth at the sound of his voice, suddenly terrified of what the lynx-pointed tom would announce. Would he tell the truth? She wondered, her tail flicking nervously over the moist earth as she imagined the rest of her clan at the Mooncave with their delirious leader. What if he said something different than what I told them? She thought with an inaudible swallow.
But he didn’t.
Hemlockheart merely announced their hold on the Mooncave and the additions to their ranks. At the mention of her new name, Lavendermist bent her head in embarrassment, too meek to meet the praise with her chin held high. When the tom had finished, he retreated back into the shadows of the falls, and the other two she-cats congratulated Lavendermist in his silence. “Thanks,” she murmured, raising her head to face the Thistleclan warriors, but then Mistflower asked another question, one that sent a shock through the calico’s bristling fur. “Oh,” she breathed, unsure of how to answer. Uncomfortable, Lavendermist shot a look toward the falls, hoping that another leader would step forward, so she wouldn’t have to tell them about the recent battle, but only silence settled across the crowd.
“Yes,” she meowed at last as her stare returned to the two she-cats. “Redwoodclan attacked our,” and then the Thistleclan leader caterwauled into the basin, her loud voice flecked with an odd inflection. Startled, Lavendermist flinched at the sound of Thievingstar’s brash announcement. Was she always like this? She thought, trying to remember her last gathering so long ago, but her mind drew a blank. The calico had been so nervous to attend the gathering that she barely remembered the events, let alone the attitude of a cat she had never met personally. “Is Thievingstar,” she meowed softly to the two other she-cats, “ok?” As her stare flicked toward the falls, she watched as the dark molly stared defiantly into the crowd before returning to the shadows. Only Redwoodclan was left, and Lavendermist had no idea what Finchstar would announce. A wave of nausea settled into her stomach then, fearful that the wounded tom would threaten her clan and make the tension worse.
