be your own spotlight * joiner

[softheart]

abandonment, dolly was finding, kinda sucked. it has only been a short while since he's effectively been locked out of an empty house. in passing with loners he's caught wind of clans, knowing that all the prey he's admittedly, sadly made an attempt to catch scrambled away with ease, that last mouse he held loosely under his paw squirming furiously until it freed itself. he realizes from the strong scent wafting over, that this must be it. for dolly, the smell of two-legs clings to him, his fluffy coat easily picking up anything that contacts him. he takes in the trees with something akin to delight. his previous home had been sparse of shrubbery and trees, the grass short and unremarkable.​

he halts at the strong scent, but not before spotting flowers behind him. the ragdoll rubs himself against the wildflowers nearby, the bright colors catching his attention. ultimately the scraggly flowers are remarkably unremarkable, however they're reminiscent of the areas nearby home that were lined with flowers, dolly's unable to stop a purr escaping him as the familiar fragrance surrounds him.

having the actual forest with all it's undergrowth underfoot is something unfamiliar to the newly former kittypet. well accustomed to a sparse fenced in area, only decorated by one old tree sitting lonely. dolly regards the dirt on his paws with disappointment, the care put into his fluffy coat was something he took great pride in, although lazy in every other endeavor. he doesn't want to aggravate any feral forest cats, so he reluctantly removes himself from the wildflowers. he observes the area with no fear, just a lax curiosity.


ooc/ retro prior to the invasion
​

​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

The smell of Twolegs was poison on the Lead Warrior's nose, so acidic it made his eyes water, so bitter that it made his fur stand to attention at the mere thought of it. In a clan that celebrated the bonds their warriors had with that specific evil, the tabby knew his discomfort would not be heeded, still, he had a duty to investigate what the others may not. Belly close to the earth, Silversmoke pressed through the scarce foliage across the pine forest's floor, his heartbeat roaring so loudly in his ears he swore it was the voices of LionClan trying to ward him away. He'd never been very good at listening to his ancestors though, they'd stopped serving his clan in a way he liked since their spirits had ascended. His green eye caught it first, a bundle of fluff wrapped in sparse colours and soon his blue eye followed his turning head, distorting the image of the cat until the whites and blacks swirled into one. 'StarClan, not another one'. Clarity cleared the tom's head; the strange smell, the feeling of foreboding, they were all connected to a kittypet finding its way into the woods once more. There was an innocence to the other's body language that suggested he had no clue where he was, the naivety made his spine arch to the trees above.

Silversmoke removed himself from his lackluster choice of a hiding spot, some ferns that likely did not completely cover the maine coon mix's form. Prowling forwards, the Lead Warrior stopped a fox length away from the stranger, sideways, as if trying to block the rest of the territory from them. He spoke before he got to consider SkyClan's openness to newcomers. "You're a long way from home, housecat," he mewed in warning. The lack of snags in Dolly's fur, the eerie calm as if immortal, Silversmoke would be surprised if he'd even seen the outside world before deciding to approach SkyClan. Then, another thought entered his mind: this was likely what his own leader had looked like before committing to the wild. Thinking about it was like claws on his skin: it was luck, he had to tell himself, that Blazestar's Twolegs had not ruined SkyClan. One could only rely on that four-leafed clover for so long. "Do you know where your den is? I'll have one of the warriors escort you back, this isn't a place for pampered pets." A generalisation, but one that he thought would save both SkyClan and this stranger.

​

 

[softheart]

oh wow! there was someone here, they were right. dolly turns to unfamiliar cat with round eyes. "i was told.." he isn't quite sure what his expectations are, but certainly, the wild cat seems much more amicable than he was expecting. it isn't quite in his nature to be speechless, but somehow the words aren't flowing like they usually do. it's an odd experience; usually he has too much to say. he eyes silversmoke's scars with an unintentionally rude curiosity, picturing a battle. man, fights suck. he hopes there isn't any fighting. not that it's anything he's experienced, the closest he's ever gotten was being chased off by a wiry loner.

he plops down firmly on the ground, sets a stake, and follows it up by cringing at the dirt he was most likely getting on it, and the sticks cracking under him. "i was told that there's, uh, a group here." his way of speaking is very slow. "my-" where were his words going? he purposely hasn't thought about it too intensely, hadn't lingered to let his brain snag on faucets of the painful situation.

"i don't have a den anymore, the housefolk who feed me aren't there anymore," an ear presses back, "that's why i'm here." the most turmoil in his life has been visiting the cutter and the dazed days that followed. his sparse conversations with other cats revolving around food and toys. the whole situation is rather disconcerting. "listen, i need, uh, help. i will die out there." he drawls out, with a modicum more desperation. the admission isn't shameful to dolly, rather he expects kindness. his stomach is panging uncomfortably, it's a sensation that disturbs him, ultimately prompting the plea. prior to his abandonment he has never gone hungry a day in his life, indulging in many different foods, including many housefolk foods. his fluffy tail sticks up behind him, as to not catch leaves.
​

​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

'So he does know there's a group?' Silversmoke thought, leaning forwards. Limbs tensed like the coils of a snake ready to strike, eyes narrowed in the process. He tilted his head towards the slow-speaking stranger expectantly, prepared to hear wild tales about the glory or dishonour of his home and preparing to shut it down with words that cut like teeth. Reality was best given to someone by words rather than a WindClanner's claws, what Dolly offered him instead was rather sad. Tales of lost house folk, one he'd heard a few times from the cats they'd rescued from the shelter - it was a blessing the Ragdoll hadn't been taken there either. Tufted ears twitched as the Lead Warrior rose to his full height. "So they abandoned you?" It was cruel to hope for such a thing, he tried not to let his taciturn tone show relief at the thought, but if Dolly was truthful, then SkyClan would have little to worry about by interacting with him. Silversmoke's repose soon turned to sympathy, his tail lashing as he tried to keep the emotion in check, his paws kneading the mulchy leaf-fall earth beneath him as if it would better his judgment.

Then, he was hit with an unspoken truth, that the kittypet had no right to be in the Twolegplace or forest by himself. Rogues wandered the former like maggots ready to crawl on whether carrion became available, the latter was filled with clans that would turn on Dolly for what he once was, and not what he could be. Tentatively, the large tom reclined on his haunches, committing to complete silence. Prey had gotten scarce too early in the year for the spotted tabby's liking, another mouth to feed would take some much-needed sustenance from the Queens and Elders. Furthermore, the Ragdoll wasn't supposed to be his concern, SkyClan alone was, and the world outside of it was not one worth knowing. Then, he considered the other strays that his home had taken in, himself included, and he shifted his weight to his good side. A snort escaped the warrior, stuffy from a battle with illness some time ago. "The group you heard about is SkyClan, and we don't tend to offer charity to those old enough to catch their own prey." They weren't supposed to at least, but Silversmoke had lost track of the times his friends' kindness had overrode their common sense.

"But." He carried in before any disappointment could sink in. "SkyClan can give you the skills to defend yourself and your home, the ability to hunt birds both on the ground and in the trees above. You won't be safer here, but you'll have a purpose and a family." Pupils narrowed into slits for but a moment. "We won't ask you to be perfect straight away, you clearly wouldn't be, but if you want shelter, you'll need to take whatever training you get seriously and pull some of your weight within the moon-" Silversmoke's feathery tail lashed in warning, he had never been shy to scorn those who contributed nothing to SkyClan. What was rudeness to one cat was reality to him, if there was no reason for a cat to be more lackadaisical in its duties, then it had no place proclaiming loyalty to his home. If Dolly was truly desperate, Silversmoke didn't know how much choice he would have but to accept - the thought troubled him. "Otherwise, you'd best think about finding another Twoleg to latch onto, venture any further than here and you'll be shredded into mouse dust."

​

 

[softheart]

abandoned. "i mean.." he thinks of the many days he's spent lounging, the hours he received being petted and scratched, the gentle brush passing through his fur. bone deep sadness makes him want to lie down - usually his favorite activity. abandoned, although the accurate word, doesn't feel right to him. he ducks his head. "if you want to call it that." something sinks in his stomach at silversmoke's kneading, and he prepares to accept his fate as dead meat.

but the clan talk. the discussion of clan activities is mind blowing for dolly. he hangs onto silversmoke's words as if to decipher them. the things he's sharing, the idea that they willingly live like this. dolly can't help the bitterness at being forced to live like that, but he rebuffs, that will be him. at some point. he can't begin to seriously comprehend the concept of climbing a tree frequently, using short legs to climb and hauling his hindquarters behind him up small fences is hard enough. the most foreign concept to him however, is the concept of community. living with housefolk and spending most of his time solitary - he finds it hard to comprehend.

"i really will do my best to help. i really appreciate the chance." dolly huffs, lolling his head back to look down at silversmoke in acknowledgement, if he were a more formal creature silversmoke would have received a bow, or a head duck, but instead he's given a chill head tilt to convey his gratefulness. "i'm not very good at uh. the whole living free deal. but i'm really happy to learn." he knows it's going to take work the second he realizes that every attempt to catch prey left him with a complaining stomach.

"i've been working really hard to try and catch stuff." he laments as if to prove his commitment. failing to mention his last attempt is sad and pathetic, his trimmed, mostly unmarked claws proving as such.

​

​