A PACK OF HOUNDS | pre-gathering chatter


What was once a gale that threatened to upset the very fabric of the gathering had now petered down into something much more manageable to travel amidst. Broken branches cracked beneath powerful paws as the forest's 'kittypet clan' emerged as the first to enter Fourtrees, the stale smell of enemies sending Silversmoke's nostrils alight as he steeled his senses for the onslaught to come. He looked towards where the Deputies usually sat and felt guilt and anger twist his heart so hard he struggled to breathe. It wasn't an interim position he'd earned; Orangeblossom was still recovering and Blazestar's first choice had disappeared. Earning the right to represent his clan by circumstance wasn't good enough, as the moon slowly pulled itself further above Silverpelt's line, the large feline realised that he'd have little choice but to accept the hand he'd been dealt. He tensed as a shape moved in the corner of his sapphire eye, Blazestar moving towards the Great Rock, and let out a huff of embarrassment. Tail gestures and dynamic swings of his lynx-shaped head corralled the rest of his clan into the clearing, where he cleared his throat to demand their attention for one last time.

The night was dark, not too nippy but not too warm, Silversmoke spoke gravely. "You wouldn't misbehave for Orangeblossom, so don't misbehave for me... StarClan's eyes are hungry tonight." The last gathering had been peaceful, somehow, Silversmoke doubted the same could be said for this one. Between accidental trespasses and the deaths and disappearances of beloved clanmates, SkyClan threatened to be run ragged by time's cruel whims, just as he'd felt his blood boil at the reminder of Slate and Johnny's promotions, they would likely feel the sting of any wrong word spoken by one of the other groups. With a curt nod, he disappeared in the crowd of SkyClanners before reappearing where the real Deputies usually sat, face taciturn and posture like that of a sturdy oak tree. His entire journey had been spent trying to come up with explanations as to why yet another SkyClanner sat where Orangeblossom should, no answer felt worthy of a second opinion. Instead, he curled his tail around himself and prepared himself for any questions or small talk that would arise before the gathering's start.

// open to interactions!!
 
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Fireflypaw weaves through the crowd silently, head held high as he greets those he passes by. He takes a moment to inhale the scents around him; cats were still gathering, it seems. He stays quiet as he seats himself, not so ready to join the other medicine cats where they normally sat. No, this time, he would stick around and chat before he made his way over to his place.

// open for interactions!​
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 10 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS
 
(
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) Bearheart had been with SkyClan for some time now but he had never attended a gathering before. The idea of a long walk and the potential interaction with WindClan left him feeling somewhat deterred in the past, but now that he had been called up by the higher ups he supposed it would be rude to decline the invitation. The rotund tom wore a brave face as he arrived with his clanmates at the gathering's location, though he didn't stick by them for long. It was time to smile and to be sociable!

"How's it going folks? The name's Bearheart." He meowed in greeting when he thought he spied a few other felines arriving.

//Open to interactions!
 

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SOOTSTAR
Hidden amongst shadows, WindClan crept along the clearing. At their head was Sootstar, her emerald eyes flickering around the gathering place. Something she had always done before allowing her cats to flood the area was to make sure it was safe, that no clan was up to any tricks. The other clans may say they follow StarClan's wishes, but she'd be sooner to believe a fox.

Satisfied, she flicks her tail to the WindClanner's and charges into the clearing. Her neck lifts to raise her head further into the sky as she takes graceful strides across the clearing. Sootstar doesn't stop to chitchat, she never typically does, her sights are set upon the Great Rock and its in her intent to perch there until the gathering ceased.

Yet a cat is out of place. A gray spotted SkyClan cat sits at the base of the rock, a deputy position, Sootstar hardly cares but something within her propels the words out of her mouth. "Has Orangeblossom kitted?" Blazestar had announced her belly was full of kits last gathering, perhaps that's where she was... Sootstar is already belittling the SkyClan deputy in her mind, the blue she-cat had provided WindClan with strong kits but left them to another queen to wean so she could get back to her duties. Motherhood should not stand in the way of a deputy being present for her clan... then again, SkyClan was nothing but a bunch of coddled kittypets. Orangeblossom was likely soaking up every bit of vacation she could get from her duties, the lazy cat she was.

// interacting with @SILVERSMOKE
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His steps feel heavy as he moves forward alongside Cicadastar, leading the clan onward to Fourtrees from the river they had swam through and clambered upward; pooling inland like a flock of ducks to shore. His pelt drips dark stains in his wake, he shakes himself to dry quicker and sends a few apprentices scurrying away from him with squeals of alarm and he restrains a smile.
"Mind yourselves tonight." He says simply, no need to go on a long tirade about cats needing to know their place and bite their tongues because assumedly RiverClan would know to behave. The last thing they needed was StarClan sending another bolt of lightning down in displeasure for their squabbling.

Smokethroat pauses briefly at the edge of the gathering place, uncertain for a moment if he is prepared for this, to place his paws beneath the Great Rock under where the river’s phantom would scale and perch aloft above them all; to take his place in the shadow of him. He had always been within Cicadastar’s shadow, looming behind him, following dutifully without hesitation, he had never felt dragged along an uneven path by the tom yet and he trusted with as much of himself as he could. Though sometimes he felt an unease resting upon his brow, the distant burden of stars shining; a halo of a crown like a vice around his skull. The thoughts did little to settle his worries, he felt exhausted from the blows his heart had taken in the recent moon; from losing Willowroot at his side, to Hyacinthbreath’s betrayal and Beesong’s unfortunate death. Bits of him chipped away piece by piece and he felt hollow in a way that ached, but his form remained stalwart and advanced forward to his new, destined spot with head high in confidence. Other clans would not seem him shaken or hesitant though he did have some pause upon spotting the silver lead of Blazestar's in Orangeblossom's place, he supposed she must have had her kits then but Sootstar's blanketed ashen form slithers over like the serpent she is to ask the question in his stead and he opts to continue walking to place himself rightfully beneath the stones before offering a light smirk but not looking in the WindClan queen's direction, "Good for her if so." He adds to the conversation without exactly joining it, "SkyClan's numbers seem to grow every moon." That lone orange eye glanced to the side lazily, indifferent. Was Thistleback not here then if another lead warrior was taking the spot he was filling prior? Odd.

[Ooc]
Commenting on @SILVERSMOKE & @SOOTSTAR chat.
Open to interaction but he's not leaving his spot.
 

When their dark-furred leader signaled for the Gathering party to join her in the clearing, Cygnetstare slithers in without cowering; her movements are gawky but oily and snakelike, a strange drunken sway cast with a hint of the grace she carries beneath the ground. But she does not cower; she would not cower, not in the face of the scale-beasts writhing beneath their eel king or the stinking flatlanders with their mud-greased pelts. WindClan would not cower in the face of such monstrous things, not even with two losses casting a long shadow; perhaps the beasts had earned the upper hand by marsh subterfuge or barbed tactics, but they could never hope to hold the grace the moor cats do. Not when, as Cygnetstare knows so well, the smallest group of their tiniest cats could slip into their territories under the cool and implacable cover of soil, under the cover of sleek darkness. Stream into their camps, harlequined with dirt, like wraiths of the earth.

She carries herself with a lurching sort of pride: much of their little prairie tableau is made up of the cats she spends her days underneath the grasses with, that she knows she can trust, that understand the importance of their warren of tunnels. Cygnetstare stands, still as a corpse, in the midst of the gathering cats; pale wide-blown eyes seek out pelts with no specific motivation, simply observing. Those beyond the veil decree that they be civil, and so they will be, they swear it; even if they should encounter one of the stinking mud-clogged flatlanders or reed-stalking fish-beasts.

// open to interaction! creepy but will be civil, if slightly less so towards riverclanners and especially shadowclanners. pls @ her if you interact otherwise i probs won't see it lol
 
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The stench of foreign Clans—the feckless chatter of other cats, Ravenpaw cannot imagine a place he would rather be away from. Though the young cat never thought too hard about politics and optics, he knew that it would be suspicious if not one, but two medicine cats were gone from RiverClan's attendance. He cannot say he can predict his leader easily, but this is not a fight he feels worth having.

Terribly alone, his paws carried him naturally toward the spot where medicine cats gathered. Neither of them were good at talking, so at the very least he could pretend to be silent. Nobody knows. The thought ran rapidly on repeat in his mind every time his gaze met with another's. You don't know. She doesn't know. The blood rushes through his ears and suddenly he brushes past a familiar pelt going in the opposite of his own path.

"Bored of our company already?" Ravenpaw remarked toward Fireflypaw. His words are pointed, undeniably, but he has no place for being genuinely upset.

// talking to @Fireflypaw


 

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FIGFEATHER

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Figfeather thought this was going to be an exciting night, but now she was a bundle full of nerves. Among the SkyClan crowd was Coyotecrest and Dandelionwish, two former WindClanner's who they had kept hush hush in their ranks. But now they were here... and Sootstar was standing right there.

She gulps, it was a matter of minutes now, and she wasn't excited for the explosion.

At least there were changes among the high rankings to distract her for now... She squints at the base of the rock, "Hey... isn't that Smokethroat?" She shudders, that was a cat she never wanted to meet in battle. He wore scars from head to toe and even bore a missing eye, Figfeather has learned scars are a show of victories and strength, not a weakness.

//open for interaction! shes talking to whoever is around her about riverclans deputy
 
Mosspaw pulled herself to shore behind Smokethroat, only flicking an ear as he sent water flying her way with a few shakes of his pelt. She followed his lead, shaking herself off a moment after.

"Mind yourselves tonight."

She nodded dutifully. This wasn't the night for petty jabs or meaningless squabbles, this was her moment to represent her clan. After a moment, and a breath, she stepped out with the Riverclan deputy into the clearing. Inside, she found a confused mess of scents and sights. So many cats from so many clans all chatting and moving around, it was overwhelming.

Doing her best to block it all out, she padded forward and set herself down amidst the clearing. Keeping close to her clanmates, she sat tall, wearing the new scar that sat across the bridge of her nose proudly. It was a mark of her victory over Windclan. As she stared up toward highrock, she adjusted her posture. Tonight she was going to be the perfect apprentice. Mosspaw wasn't here to chat, she was here to show the other clans that they were still strong. Even after everything.

//open for interactions, will be rude to windclanners and thunderclanners​
 

He is realizing how out of place he is, he hardly knows any cats here now and since being left to only SkyClan's inner territory he had missed so much of the clan events and changes in ranking that its a wonder he can even piece together the bits he does notice. Figfeather makes a remark about a cat and he looks to RiverClan's deputy spot in surprise, the scarred and stoic black tom there a very different figure than the cinnamon molly he'd seen there last. Speaking of changes in rank, he wonders if Vulturemask might be here; he knew the tom loathed these events before but Sootstar may have forced him to come depending on circumstances. The thought of the leader's name has his mismatched gaze dart around briefly, searching for her gray form within the swarm of cats settling in and chatting and when he spots her he feels a jolt like lightning that drops his heart into his stomach with a lurch. He didn't expect her presence to still make him feel so small, so weak; but he shakes his head to fight the unease off-there is nothing she can do to him that she has not already done and he is safe here in this place. What she tried later would be on even terms, he'd let his claws speak for him if anything.
Dandelionwish finds himself second guessing the green bandanna around his throat but if the SkyClan scent didn't give it away this surely would and he hoped in some way wearing it would show he was unashamed of his new loyalties.
Still, the chocolate and cream chimera moves with a swiftness as her back is to him, finds a spot opposite her perch upon the rock still scorch-stained and blasphemous and he settles himself in for what would be a long night if anything; the lingering WindClan scent in the air setting him on edge. He hopes StarClan still has an eye on him even without his connection to them.
He hopes they'll intervene if things turn foul.

[Ooc]
Open to interactions!
Will have him seek someone out my next post if no one approaches :3
 
Following behind her leader, trailing wisplike through shadows, Scorchstreak approaches the gathering with a grimace set plainly upon her muzzle. This is her first time setting foot in the clearing—she hadn’t been here for the battle everyone speaks of. She looks forward to a night of tracing the members of other clans, prodding at them, dissecting their weaknesses in conversation.

She doesn’t get very far before being accosted, spoken to by a… well-fed tom. SkyClan, because of course he is, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes. An annoyance, she labels him. "…Bearheart." Her tone is flat, clearly unimpressed. A scarred brow is cocked at the much larger cat, and her claws are unsheathed. No SkyClan filth would dare attack her here, she’s certain—but if the tom does decide to lunge, she will ensure that it is the last decision that he ever makes. Still, her expression does not change but for a tick of her brow, a twitch of her mouth. "You certainly don’t look anything like a bear. Too soft. Perhaps you’re named for your smell?" Pointedly, she does not offer her name to the tom; unless he asks, she sees no need to provide it. He will know she is WindClan, and that is enough.


// talking to @BEARHEART she is rude im sorry
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
What a fascinating spectacle. He looked around the clearing almost lost, a leaf among many of the ones littered on the forest floor. His nerves were knotted and tense the moment he arrived and saw just how many cats call this forest home. He let himself fluff up for just a moment before relaxing and sitting down.

So many faces... Not all of them friendly. He caught the looks from some cats, heard the word kittypet uttered. My my.... Already he has enemies, it seems.

A smirk crossed his face. If he was good at anything, it was making people want to snap his neck. He stayed close to his clan.

"The air is simply electric tonight." He comments to no one in particular. "And these gatherings always remain civil?" He continues. He finds it hard to believe. He looks to the stars above. Do they really have the power to intervene if things get violent?​
 
Slate enters the gathering an imposter… or so he feels like it. Johnnyflame and Silversmoke (as much as he hates to admit it) had valid and simple reasoning behind the bestowment of their rank — dependable, dutiful, loyal to SkyClan. Slate, however, cannot help but feel like an outsider even months into being a clan cat. He felt like a wolf among the flock at times, sticking out like a sore toe with his rugged dark appearance and scars that told the tales of battles from the streets. Silversmoke had also been a fellow rogue at one point, but he didn’t tend to openly acknowledge that aspect of his past as much as Slate did. The other lead warrior could easily pass as a clan born cat, one who was born among the pines and bred to live such a life. Slate could not. He doesn’t know if he ever could.

He silently acknowledges his apprentice, meeting her gaze briefly before heading off to find his own place among the others. Slate was a solitary creature, even with a trainee under his wing now. Besides, Howlpaw was certainly a more charming presence than he was. She should have no issue socializing, he thinks.

Intense amber eyes sweep across the clusters of chattering cats, a flood of clashing scents overwhelming his nostrils. The newly-promoted lead warrior says nothing as he shoulders through the crowd, awkwardly towering over the smaller populations of felines with his Maine Coon stature. He doesn’t intend on socializing, simply just listening to what the leaders have to say. Slate hadn’t cared much about clan politics before, but he supposed he should start opening his ears now that there was more expected from him.

// mobile but wanted to get a post in before things got flooded :what:
open for interactions, briefly acknowledging @Howlpaw
 
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It is indeed.” A tortoiseshell warrior pads from behind the golden SkyClanner, wearing her everpresent mask of neutrality. The she-cat’s blue eyes glint with amusement. “It’s been awhile since RiverClan has had someone in that spot, hasn’t it?

She turns to the young warrior, pondering. They are close in age, she assumes. A part of her even vaguely remembers interacting with her before, although… it must have been some time ago. “Iciclefang,” she introduces just in case. “RiverClan warrior, of course. Smokethroat was my mentor.” Unmistakable pride lifts her white-capped tail into the air.

Another SkyClanner—one with a stranger scent layered beneath their piney one—asks wonderingly if all the Gatherings are civil. Iciclefang laughs, thin and brittle-sounding. “Not hardly. At any second, most of the cats here could unsheathe their claws and rip one another’s fur out. The only reason they don’t…” She gestures loosely toward the sky and the full moon, as if to indicate StarClan.

// interacting with @FIGFEATHER and @Dogskip


[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
RUN RABBIT, RUN RABBIT, RUN RUN RUN
bunnypounce | 23 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally easy | attack in bold hotpink
Pawsteps come slowly, an unsteady echo of thump-thump-thump as she hops and wobbles along, pale gaze glinting. What a sight windclan must make tonight - so many pale, ghostly figures, pink eyes wide and haunting. It has been a long time since bunny has set foot within the forest, even longer still since she has seen those not of her clan. Eyes blink slowly as he pauses, tail wagging, crouched and hunched on hind legs to keep her balanced. The moonlight shines a familiar greeting as she catches her breath, and then the three-legged molly continues on, brushing past cygnet to fall into place within the crowd. perhaps she will make new friends tonight - or perhaps, they will be like the other ravenous beasts she knows this place to be home to, and will only wish to see her eaten.

// open to interacts (in fact, please do, i beg of you) but please ping because i might miss it otherwise
 
For once, Clay trots into the clearing of the gathering with his head held high, his usual cheer radiating off him once again. RiverClan won. He won.

He casts a glance around, hoping to spot a familiar pelt of snow, matching pale pink eyes, but among the ShadowClanners he doesn’t spot the tom he’s searching for. Well, that’s… unfortunate. But he can always find another—perhaps less willing—victim of his joke of the month. Lichentail is probably going to be too busy basking in their promotion to listen, and so the brown and white warrior splits away from his clan to approach a cat he doesn’t recall meeting yet. He doesn’t care what clan they are, not this time—ThunderClan, WindClan, SkyClan, ShadowClan, none of them matter. This is for him. He doesn’t fear any of them. Besides, for the enemies of his clan, this is a punishment. A battle in the only civil way he can think of, to keep the peace of the gathering.

He levels the stranger with a bright hazel gaze, tail flicking back and forth behind him. "Why don’t trees hunt?" The broad, toothy grin that slides across his face betrays the joking nature of his question, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

// open for interactions, he’s telling a terrible joke
[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]
 
જ➶ He is almost overwhelmed with the sheer amount of cats in this clearing. Even though he is aching he has endured the journey for the sake of experiencing the gathering. His honey brown orbs marvel at what he sees, the smells all mingling together and he has to take a moment to just collect himself. He notices how easily cats break a part and go to talk to others. He doesn't know anyone save for his own clan and so he looks a littke lost. It takes him a moment to build up the courage to just talk to someone. Shifting and feeling the hot pink collar wrapped around his neck. He is sure they will know him as a kittypet the moment he approaches someone but he can't just shy away and so he steps forward, eyeing someone before he speaks up. "Um...hey there. I'm Brambleheart from Skyclan. I...didn't want to bother but this is my first Gathering. Who...who are those sitting on the rocks?" Soft voice is docile as the short tailed chimera dips his head in indication towards the leaders. He knows Blazestar but the others are a mystery to him.

He hopes that doesn't seem incompetent to the other as he gives a gentle smile.

-- open to interactions, he is talking to whomever, pls @
 
can we leave it behind? The smaller the distance between their little patrol and Fourtrees became, the harder Sabletuft could feel his heart against his chest. His travel was quiet, hardly a breath was audible from the tom. He kept his focus on the ground a few tail-length ahead of him, gaze distant in thought.

Memories. Rolling over and over at the forefront of his mind like clockwork. Old and recent, from Fourtrees and from home. Most notably the skirmish that had bloodied his paws after keeping them clean for so long.

When he's brought back to the present, they're dispersing themselves among the crowd already. Sabletuft took in a breath, holding it as he tracked what patterns he could. The base of the rock appeared to be where cats like him would go. Like Smogmaw. Something more sinister flashed across amber sights as he rested on Sootstar. He noticed her starry allies had healed what damage he had done. Ready for the taking of another.

"StarClan worked their magic. Surprised they didn't leave you for dead after all that. Congratulations." The newly blessed Lead rumbled from behind the ashen leader. He does well to hide his nerves, but his ShaodwClan peers would notice the difference in his behavior. Sabletuft was not a social cat by any means. He hardly approached his own Clanmates to chat, even less so to outsiders.

He nodded his head to Smokethroat and Silversmoke in greeting. These were cats of his caliber, he guessed, but truthfully he knew next to nothing on the politics of the other Clans. "Sabletuft, ShadowClan Lead. RiverClan and SkyClan are looking strong tonight." If SkyClan really was expanding moon after moon, he could only wonder how much longer it would be before they had to cut themselves off from accepting kittypets. RiverClan of course looked healthy from their shiny pelts, but also some promising looking warriors telling from the apprentices scattering about.

// interacting w @SOOTSTAR @Smokethroat and @SILVERSMOKE . mainly just antagonizing soot <3 — tags
 
Bluepaw follows at Sootstar’s heels, a smaller and less intimidating imitation of her mother and mentor. She feels lucky to have been allowed to come to this Gathering—she is the only one of her siblings who had been, and that’s quite the honor. Perhaps if Cottonpaw had healed from the battle… but would her sister want to come anyway? Come and see the cat who’d terrorized her sitting in the RiverClan deputy spot at the base of the Great Rock?

The small gray she-cat narrows her eyes, but she says nothing. Sootstar expects her cats—especially her apprentices—to behave. Other cats may spit and yowl, but Bluepaw will not. Not even at the cats who deserve it.

While Sootstar speaks with Silversmoke, she lets her eyes wander. Scorchstreak, Cygnetstare and Bunnypounce are here, all off talking to cats from other Clans. Her fluffy tail wraps about her white paws, and she sighs aimlessly. She’s about to ask Sootstar how much longer they must stay when Smokethroat himself approaches. She bristles, but again holds her tongue. RiverClan will not goad WindClan. Not after what they’d done to her sister.

Another scent—this time one that causes her nostrils to twitch—assaults her. ShadowClan. A cat she does not recognize begins to berate her mother openly, and Bluepaw’s jaw drops. “That’s a Clan leader, in case you’ve forgotten,” she says sharply, sitting taller. “ShadowClan has no idea how to act!” She hadn’t meant to say anything, but how could he talk about her mother like that—about wishing she were dead?

// interacting somewhat with @SILVERSMOKE , @SOOTSTAR , @Smokethroat and talking to @S A B L E T U F T


[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
make peace with your broken pieces .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
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He padded into the clearing, milky white fur contrasting against the monochrome background, yellow optic scanning the mesh of cats, their scents weighing heavily on his tongue. Head swerving to stare at his apprentice, crouching to whisper lowly within her ear. "Do not leap first." He reminded the other, hoping the other would understand despite the cryptic message.

If things were to go south, cats will always blame those who made an outcry first. It was only a matter of time. He could feel the prickling unease in the atmosphere. A pool of dread settled in the pits of his gut, tail flickering as he strode forward, head held high in pride.

"Try not to get into too much trouble, my apprentice." He chuckled warmly, tail resting lightly on her shoulder, pulling away to catch sight of a stumbling warrior, head cocked, brows knitted in concern. He noticed many others in similar states. He rumbled. He wondered what plight befell them to gain such injuries. "It seems some clans have been hit harder than others." He mused, tone curious.

"Let's hope nothing … unfavorable happens tonight." He sighed, tail flicking as he inspected his claws. Singular optic glancing at the others, head cocked, gaze calculating, picking out injuries and distinguishable traits.

He'd much rather be somewhere else, perhaps taking a nap, but fate had other plans for the milky-white furred warrior. Things he could not control, even if he'd rather bear his clan mate's burdens onto his broad shoulders. But he was getting ahead of himself, clearing such thoughts from his helm to focus on the gathering at paw.

"A long night is ahead of us." Let us hope it will be as tranquil as the previous meeting. Of course, Whitelion had doubts, but one could only hope.

footnote : open for interactions ! briefly mentions @" BUNNYPOUNCE " & talking to @Chickadeepaw!

thought speech
 
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