- Jul 21, 2022
- 10
- 1
- 3
HEY BROTHER,
DO YOU STILL BELIEVE IN ONE ANOTHER?
DO YOU STILL BELIEVE IN ONE ANOTHER?
It had always been in his nature to be optimistic. His brother used to say it was just one more thing to contribute toward the fact that he was an idiot, but Semper had never seen the point in only focusing on the bad. He wasn't sure about the rest of the world, but personally, he had no interest in feeling shitty and down all the time. He'd tasted too many good moments of lazy conversation or uncontainable laughter to ever want to trap himself in a mindset that would only ever see him replaying the bad over and over again. It was the main reason he'd joined Riverclan to begin with, and the main reason he was no longer with his brother. Vox, the littermate he'd always had by his side, had chosen to remain behind in twoleg place rather than leave. His sibling had always been stubborn though, too proud to admit to what was right in front of him. He would have to self-destruct before he realized there was nothing left for him in that place, and Semper just couldn't bring himself to stick around and watch it happen- not when he'd been ready to leave for weeks already.
And much to his relief, that optimism had paid off. Riverclan was exactly the breath of fresh air he'd been in need of, the most promising thing his hazel eyes had ever seen. Back in twoleg place the closest thing he'd had to a family was the group of strays he and Vox had run with. The loyalty they'd had to each other was a rare thing, and when he'd lost them he wasn't sure he'd ever find anything like it again. The wetlands were filled with promise though, populated by cats who were raised on principles like friendship and loyalty. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep him around.
There were, of course, some downsides to clan living. The most problematic of which, in Sempers humble opinion, was the tension that seemed to live among the cats. it was something he'd caught onto right from the very first day he'd set paw in their camp. There was a divide here, something between the wildcats, the kittypets, and the loners. The clan seemed fractured as the outsiders did their best to prove they were worthy of remaining within the ranks of Cicadastars cats, and Semper hadn't been blind to the looks he'd gotten since he arrived. It wasn't too bad with him in particular; Semper was a large cat with enough muscle carved into his tall frame to show he was at least capable. But Rory, the looks they got were a little harsher. A declawed ex-kittypet with trauma and very few survival skills to help them out apparently didn't hold much weight with the clan, and there were times when Semper worried if they would try and turn on his friend.
So Semper worked hard. He pulled extra shifts on the hunting patrols and trained twice as hard during the sparring sessions, determined to make up for any shortcomings the Riverclanners might try and point out in his bobtail companion.
It was around noon when the tall tomcat went padding into camp. He'd been out hunting for the last little while and was proud to not have to return to camp with nothing in tow. He was completely soaked from the waist up, fur pressed sleek against a strong body, but the prize clasped between his jaws was worth it; a plump fish from the river. It was the first one he'd ever caught, and while it had taken some time and resulted in many less-than-graceful failures, the water was refreshing on such a warm day and he couldn't help but feel a little more envigorated in the wake of his success. Making his way over to the kill pile with swift steps, he placed his catch among the other pieces before settling back on his haunches to groom at his unruly, half-dried fur. He probably wouldn't end up staying in camp for long since his paws had a tendency to grow restless if he became too lazy, but for now he was happy to enjoy the sun against his pelt as he tried to fix it into something a bit more presentable.
And much to his relief, that optimism had paid off. Riverclan was exactly the breath of fresh air he'd been in need of, the most promising thing his hazel eyes had ever seen. Back in twoleg place the closest thing he'd had to a family was the group of strays he and Vox had run with. The loyalty they'd had to each other was a rare thing, and when he'd lost them he wasn't sure he'd ever find anything like it again. The wetlands were filled with promise though, populated by cats who were raised on principles like friendship and loyalty. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep him around.
There were, of course, some downsides to clan living. The most problematic of which, in Sempers humble opinion, was the tension that seemed to live among the cats. it was something he'd caught onto right from the very first day he'd set paw in their camp. There was a divide here, something between the wildcats, the kittypets, and the loners. The clan seemed fractured as the outsiders did their best to prove they were worthy of remaining within the ranks of Cicadastars cats, and Semper hadn't been blind to the looks he'd gotten since he arrived. It wasn't too bad with him in particular; Semper was a large cat with enough muscle carved into his tall frame to show he was at least capable. But Rory, the looks they got were a little harsher. A declawed ex-kittypet with trauma and very few survival skills to help them out apparently didn't hold much weight with the clan, and there were times when Semper worried if they would try and turn on his friend.
So Semper worked hard. He pulled extra shifts on the hunting patrols and trained twice as hard during the sparring sessions, determined to make up for any shortcomings the Riverclanners might try and point out in his bobtail companion.
It was around noon when the tall tomcat went padding into camp. He'd been out hunting for the last little while and was proud to not have to return to camp with nothing in tow. He was completely soaked from the waist up, fur pressed sleek against a strong body, but the prize clasped between his jaws was worth it; a plump fish from the river. It was the first one he'd ever caught, and while it had taken some time and resulted in many less-than-graceful failures, the water was refreshing on such a warm day and he couldn't help but feel a little more envigorated in the wake of his success. Making his way over to the kill pile with swift steps, he placed his catch among the other pieces before settling back on his haunches to groom at his unruly, half-dried fur. He probably wouldn't end up staying in camp for long since his paws had a tendency to grow restless if he became too lazy, but for now he was happy to enjoy the sun against his pelt as he tried to fix it into something a bit more presentable.
male - 20 months - riverclan - homosexual - single - a large cream and white tabby cat with broad shoulders and powerful hindlegs. has amber eyes and splotches on his face that are reminiscent of freckles.
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