* ✰. — kill bill ❞ / joining

[SLATE]

He's tired.

At the expense of his own pride, as much as his ego prevents him from admitting it, Slate's journey through leaf-bare was truly putting his survival skills to the test. He is not as fit as he could be because of the lack of prey roaming the streets. The usual rats he consumes had mostly resorted to roaming the underground or even the homes of two-leggeds in order to escape the cold, making their presence on the sidewalks much more scarce. He's practically chased this mouse across the entire city because he knows that, if he doesn't catch this pathetic excuse of a meal, there would be no guarantee when his next one would be.

The mouse squeezes under the fence bordering the twolegplace and, out of sheer desperation, Slate musters his strength into scaling the structure and landing on the other side. After angling his ears, raising his nose to the air, and glancing around for any sign of movement, he spots the rodent's hiding place. This was clan territory, but that was his mouse.

It seemed that, despite his empty stomach, he had managed to channel the last of his energy into cornering the mouse. So much adrenaline coursed through his veins, so much blood rushed into his ears... he barely even noticed the approach of pawsteps until the stranger was right in front of him. The large, dark-furred tom cat snapped up, the limp critter dangling from crimson-stained jaws. "Look, the mouse came from my side, okay?" Growled Slate in the clan cat's direction. Huh, were they really all that tough? He was confident he could take one on himself. At one point in his life, he had dreamt of living as a wild cat out in the forest amongst nothing but himself and his wits. However, that was when he was a kit whose head was filled with ideas and out-of-reach realities. No, Slate was a rogue through and through. He'd rather be dead than let another two-legged put their grimy hands on him again.

As far as he knew, these "clans" had sprouted up rather recently. Slate had heard whispers on the wind about these forest cats and had encountered a few of them before, but not to any significant extent. Hmph. Was living in the forest really any better than living in the twolegplace? There were still territory skirmishes and the threat of predators all the same, though the only difference was that these groups were large and structured. Cats were independent creatures by nature... Would living amongst hordes of others really work?

Maybe Slate was just jaded. After all, the only "group" he had ever belonged to had thrown him to the hounds ( quite literally ). He did not want any trouble with this clan cat; he just wanted to eat his food in peace. "Just- let me have this one, yeah?" Or else. His claws visibly unsheathe, digging into the icy ground below. A feral being he is, a creature untouched by love or warmth for many, many seasons. He's fought this hard to keep himself alive, even during a grueling and unforgiving season such as leaf-bare. Why should Slate let himself starve at the paws of a clan cat? They had a whole army of cats to contribute to their food supply, didn't they? They could let one small, measly mouse go.

[ @DUSKMANE but no need to wait! ] ​

 

[DUSKMANE]

"WE’VE COME TO A DANGEROUS PLACE"​

It had nearly been a moon since Duskmane had come to SkyClan and now, he was one of their warriors. Since then, he'd grown into his fur and the wounds had faded, barely even a reminder of what he had seemed like only a few weeks ago. The feline had fallen into a routine of sorts. Sleep and explore. Sleep and explore. That had been all of his days so far. That and now training his apprentice. It seemed rather...interesting to say the least. He hadn't spent much time with Bearpaw considering he hadn't really seen much of the apprentice since he was given the responsibility. He hoped that he'd see Bearpaw soon enough. Yet for today it seemed that he was going exploring on his own again.

With a yawn and gentle stretch, Duskmane was heading from his nest towards the twolegs' nests. Something was calling him towards the area near where he was found. With cautious steps hidden in a quick trot, the warrior's ears perked upon hearing another soul nearby. "Hm." He hummed to himself, heading in the direction. Perhaps it was a lost kittypet or another kit asking to join and who was he to deny anyone entrance to this clan? As he made his way closer, the scent of the intruder was vaguely familiar. His trot turned into a canter as he grew closer until he came upon the other cat. The sleek blackish-brown pelt marred by scars. Yet, he could tell who it was in an instant. The face...despite the scars, was the same.

"Slate." He exhaled. "Brother...is that really you?"

The smoky tom stood there, waiting for the response. It had to be. The scent, the face. It looked exactly like his littermate. His green eyes filled with emotion, taking careful steps towards the other. "Eat. Please." Duskmane hadn't learned his lesson about sharing prey with others. Besides, this had to be his brother. ​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Fireflyglow]

WE'VE BEEN DOIN' ALL THIS LATE NIGHT TALKIN' ✧​

Fireflypaw was known to wander the territory at odd hours, but watching a Loner argue with a clanmate over fresh-kill was just too odd to watch. His ears flick, sensitive little eyes fluttering as he pads up behind Duskmane. He peeks out from behind the warrior's legs, curiosity in his expression. "No fights! No fights! Dad says no fights!" He shrieks then, already nervous- they didn't.. He didn't need to see another clanmate die over food. Not again, not again. Duskmane seems to know this cat, and Fireflypaw feels suspicion creep into his body. It was safe, right?

"Who is this guy, Dusk?" Fireflypaw asks softly, ears flicking back against his head. A friend- no, he spoke. Brother.

"YOU HAVE A BROTHER?! REALLY?!" The apprentice shrieks in sudden excitement, shoving his way past the NPC clanmate whom was standing over a piece of prey. "HI! I'M FIREFLYPAW! YOU'RE IN SKYCLAN'S TERRITORY!"​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

( * ˚ ✦ ) The amount of blood that has been spilled at his borders over prey haunts the entire Clan. Blazestar would rather lose the remainder of his lives than see another SkyClan apprentice killed for any reason -- and yet, they are already so thin from lack of fresh-kill. One mouse, one squirrel, a wingtip from a fleeing bird might make the difference between life and death for a kit or an elder.

Rambling thoughts as Blazestar approaches the border, though the sounds of growling sends his heart racing. His steps quicken until he's seeing Duskmane and Fireflypaw face to face with a rogue. There's a mouse under his paws; the scent is luxurious on his scent glands.

"Look, the mouse came from my side, okay?" Blazestar can see the wild glint in the rogue's eyes, the hostile set of his body, and the leader begins to bristle. He prepares to, in a panic, tell Fireflypaw to run, when Duskmane pauses, seeming to recognize the dark-pelted outsider.

"Brother... is that really you?"

Blazestar blinks. Duskmane lets the cat he calls 'brother' have the mouse. The Ragdoll knows the mouse is not SkyClan's, though... their territory is not hospitable to the tiny brown creatures, with their lack of undergrowth. There is no confusion this time -- whoever this rogue is, he is entitled to his mouse.

Blazestar pads closer, eyes flashing warily. "Who is this cat, Duskmane?" He puts a protective paw in front of Fireflypaw, easily excitable as always. "My son speaks the truth. This is SkyClan's territory. But it seems you're here accidentally." His gaze flicks to the Twoleg fence and then back to Slate, questions burning in eyes that are for once clear of their clouds.​

( AND EVERY TIME IT RAINS , ALL THE ANGELS CRY FOR ME )

 

[Finchfang]

It was difficult for Finchfang to find it in himself to be angry about "stolen" prey - maybe it was just that his own experiences with struggling for survival left him sympathetic to other lost souls, or maybe he had no spine. Maybe it was something else entirely, but regardless, when he spotted the dark-coated rogue successfully catch a mouse on their land and promptly be found by three other SkyClanners, his first reaction was merely of interest and of caution, not of offense or of indignation. If SkyClan wanted and needed prey so desperately - as he knew they did - it was their duty to hunt for it, and keep it from entering paws like Slate's. That the brother of Duskmane had caught prey on their territory spoke only to a missed opportunity on their behalf, not a theft - or so Finchfang saw it. Besides, considering ... recent events ... he doubted there would be too much hostility about a mouse of questionable origin. Who had the energy to fight over that? Who among them had the inclination?

There seemed to be something extra about this case, anyway. Had he heard the word "brother"? The tabby tom had been showing Batpaw their border with the Twolegplace, but arrived just in time to hear that there was some sort of connection between Duskmane and the hungry stranger. "Be cautious." he advised his apprentice in an undertone, padding forward to join the group but remaining silent otherwise. This would be a good learning experience for her, he hoped. He was glad for Blazestar's presence and uncommon lucidity - it meant that any decisions could be made here and now.

@batpaw ​

 

[SLATE]

Another presence makes itself known — a tom, younger than the first... maybe a relative of sorts. Readiness itches at his claws, the anticipation of a fight pumping through his entire body — his ears, his chest, his paws, the tip of his tail; thump, thump, thump... He's taken on bigger cats before. This one is no different.

Although, his green eyes... and the little white spots under them...

Slate's mind had only begun to piece together the information in front of him before the stranger had spoken first, uttering something that he would have never expected coming from a random forest cat — "Slate."

He's taken aback. The sweet aroma of mother's milk, the soft murmurs of twolegs as they doted on the litter of kittens and stroked in between their ears, the sandpaper tongues of his parents rasping over their faces, the faces and mewls of his littermates... It all floods in. His world is, if only for a moment, shattered. After living as a rogue for many seasons, sometimes it was hard to remember that he once had a completely different life.

In a rare instance, the rough and tumble street cat's features soften and his claws recede into their sheathes. "Dusk..." That was... That was Dusk, wasn't it? Although it's been such a long time, he cannot forget the names and faces of his own siblings. Slate used to pretend to hunt Dusk's tail and would often get in trouble for gnawing on it, the stubby little thing. Now, his brother was an adult, his features grown from a kit's and his fur just as fluffy and luxurious as their parents. Slate had quite a mop of fur on him as well; to think that the sons of prestigious retired show cats would be living in the outdoors, fighting off dogs and feasting upon mice as opposed to being pampered in a warm two-legged nest.

The black-furred tom doesn't even register what is uttered from his brother's lips next. All he can focus on is how surprising it was to see him here, out in the wilderness, as opposed to being well-off somewhere else... Well, that is, until a flurry of excited words burst out into the open air and launched an attack on his ears, causing them to pin against the back of his head. Slate hasn't been around such youthful energy since his kithood, probably. It's overwhelming.

He takes a cautious step back as the younger cat advances toward him, still not understanding what the connection was between the two. It isn't until the tom mentions a "clan" that Slate is able to understand. "SkyClan?" Echoes the rogue before he flicks his gaze up toward Dusk once more. "You're not... I mean — I thought you were living with your twolegs." Slate supposed the same could be said for him, too, but he had always made it quite clear that he wanted to live as a "wild cat". Would him running away from home really be all that shocking? Dusk, on the other hand, seemed pretty excited to be adopted into a two-legged family of his own.

Slate was about to ask Dusk what happened when even more cats show up. The reinforcements make sense now; Dusk had gone and joined a clan ( huh, and Slate thought he had been the more adventurous sibling ). They don't speak, at least not at first, though earn a wary glance from Slate all the same as he has no clue what their intentions are. The rogue is outnumbered now, which puts a lone cat like him on alert. His claws edge towards unsheathing again as his instincts kick into gear, his irises narrowing into slits and the hairs along his spine beginning to tingle in discomfort.

"Who is this cat, Duskmane?"

... Duskmane?

The cat who speaks appears older than the rest of the cats gathered. He is pretty large as well, around the same size as their father had been... perhaps bigger ( but, then again, his memories of Dad are fuzzy ). Hostility is not necessarily present in the ragdoll's tone, though he seems wary and protective, and understandably so. "I was only goin' after the mouse. I usually steer clear of.. clan territory." It was still odd referring to these wilds as "clan territory", seeing as they had been unclaimed and home to loners for as far as he could remember. Dusk must have joined this SkyClan not too long ago, then.

A soft frown graces his lips, as the slightly rough-voiced stray explains, "Dusk... I haven't seen him since we were kits." He usually does not care to make conversation with other cats; he has to clear his throat as he hasn't actually spoken to anyone in a while. "It's been a long time." Slate met Dusk's gaze, his heart churning with a plethora of emotions. Relief, warmth, excitement, confusion, anxiety... The rogue had truly not expected to reunite with any of his family members ever again. He had accepted his fate as a "lone wolf" a long time ago, but now... what happens?​

 

[DUSKMANE]

"WE’VE COME TO A DANGEROUS PLACE"​

The moons had separated the two toms, their fates held in the corners of betrayal and distrust. He looked to his littermate, 29 moons ago they had been born to the retired show cats in the twolegs nest. He remembered the scent of their home together, the smell of their parents, the smell of each of their littermates before they were torn apart. Each of them had been given to a new home, twolegs separated the family and none of them had a say in that. Regardless, he could picture the days of their youth and the happiness, the blissfulness, and the naivety of it all. How he yearned for the simpler times of kithood. As he looked back on those memories, he looked to Firefly. "Of course." His head dipped to the apprentice. "No fighting. I know your father's wish and there will be no fighting here today. At least, not from me." As the energy-filled apprentice ran around, Duskmane let out a hearty laugh. "Yes, Slate is my brother. One of a few littermates. And yes, he is in SkyClan territory. How he managed to get on this side of the border...well. Seems he crossed due to his prey nearly getting away from him."

He padded closer, moving towards his brother as if still in disbelief. Hadn't he also gone to other twolegs? At least that's how their parents had made it seem. They had all been given to other homes and had been due to leave all around the same week. Had Slate escaped that dreadful fate and stayed with their parents? So many questions, but there would be plenty of time to ask later when they could have a full length conversation without being interrupted or when they weren't surrounded by cats.

Following Fireflypaw was Blazestar, looking more run down than normal. It concerned Duskmane, but he didn't think it was his place to say anything. As the leader asked, Duskmane had to provide information considering that he had just said brother in front of them. "This is my littermate, Slate." The darkly hued feline regarded the ragdoll. "We've not seen each other since we were 2 moons old, taken from our parents just after we finished weening." His words seemed laced with a venom towards the twolegs, curbed behind his poised nature. "It may be SkyClan's territory, but I assure you that Slate will bring no harm to this clan if you allow him to rest here." He sent a glance towards Finchfang when he told his apprentice to be cautious. His brother was no danger to any of them. Certainly not now. His brother had always been loyal to family, protective even.

He then returned back to the cat in question. Padding even closer, he curls his paws underneath him and is face to face with his littermate. A soft purr comes from the former loner now, knowing that it was in fact Slate. The stars above could not have given him a greater gift than that of kinship. "The twolegs that took me home abandoned me less than a moon after they had taken me to their nest. Leaving me as if I was mouse dung under their paws." Duskmane scoffed. "I was roaming the loner lands for a while with a few other cats I had met in the Twolegplace. That didn't quite work out either."

The tom remembered the state he had been in not so long ago. He sighed gently. He had come so far since the day when he had last seen Slate. The day he had said goodbye to one of the most important cats to him. The bittersweet smile tugged at his maw, curling his lips slightly. "What happened with your twolegs? You were always one of the wild ones, begging for adventure. Did yours leave you too?" Duskmane held a silent prayer that it had been the opposite. That his brother had left the twolegs on his own accord rather than them abandoning him. It would make more sense after all. The memory of his brother wanting to play wild cats in the house made him chuckle softly to himself.

"Life doesn't look like it has been kind to you, brother." His words were meant to be kind and caring, but could be misconstrued as malicious if Slate took it the wrong way. He looked raggedy, perhaps he was also injured. "Blazestar, if I take responsibility for my brother, could we have him checked by Dawnglare? Possibly allow him to share prey with me before sending him on his way if he'd like to leave? I know that I am asking quite a bit, but he is my kin and isn't a threat to anyone currently. Not in the state he is in." ​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Orangestar]

Separation and reunion of family members is something that Orangeblossom can only half relate to. Her mother and younger brother are a daylight warrior and apprentice respectively, but at least they returned with the dawn most days. Apricotflower, on the other paw... her littermate had left on RiverClan's formation, following her mentor to a new life away from their home and away from the pines where they'd grown up. Orangeblossom resents Apricotflower somewhat for the choice, and further turns her nose up at the hypothetical now that the warrior code places littermates who abandon their own as a lesser priority to loyalty.

Perched comfortably on a low branch above the patrol's head, SkyClan's ginger-and-white deputy watches the stranger with impassive brown eyes - Slate, was it? This was Duskmane's littermate, according to the (as always) full-volume trill of one Fireflypaw. She could certainly see the resemblance, and there's a little heartwarming note about the reunion that makes Orangeblossom's pelt itch with jealousy. But, she reasons with herself, SkyClan has kits to feed, injured warriors to sustain. Her own hunt today has been unsuccessful thus far, and Orangeblossom's irritation over her misfortune feeds into bargaining as she remarks to the group:

"We barely have enough to go around as it is. Maybe he should catch something to share in return."​

✦ ooc ✦ info

•  
• 
  ✦ orangeblossom, deputy of skyclan
  — no apprentice.
  ✦ 25 moons, she/her
  ✦ fluffy white and ginger cat with brown eyes. torn left ear, scar on right foreleg.
  ✦ bi, single. @ on discord for plots.
  ✦ "speech" — thoughts

​

 

[batpaw]

Getting to see the border to Twolegplace had been a treat for Batpaw, given her recent curiosity regarding what lies beyond that fence, so she had been more than happy when Finchfang had suggested it. Just on the other side - just there! right there! - of the border is the real-life version of what so many warriors had spoken of. The good and the bad. Even if she hadn't even peeked through the fence, being so close had filled her to brimming with excitement, and she carries it with her now as follows her mentor's lead.

Fireflypaw's exuberance gets to her before anything else, and it's contagious. Duskmane has a brother, and he's here? How wonderful! Starclan, the two of them must be absolutely ecstatic to see one another! Her smile only dims when Finch speaks: be cautious.

Batpaw would like to think that Slate being here, hunting here, is nothing to worry about - he seems polite enough, from what little she can see, though her optimism places the bar low for what constitutes polite enough. There's no violence, is what she settles on, and that seems promising enough. But there is prey involved, and - and cats are too hungry to be rational at the moment, so, yes, she should be cautious. Fights over food can be fatal. Shrinking into her mentor's shadow, she wishes she hadn't learned that lesson. Still, she hopes Blazestar will listen to Dusk's plea, even if it ends up being tempered by Orangeblossom's input. In her rosy perspective, that would be the most compassionate, kind, amazing outcome, both for the brothers and for her faith in others.
​