BUBBLEGUM DREAMS [settling in]




✵ ღ ☾ IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE - If she were being honest with herself, for the first time in her life she was on the verge of second doubting her decision. Should she have been selfless like her family would have wanted her to, and gone to Thunderclan? Perhaps, especially now, as she found herself setting up her nest in silence. She was used to her grandmother correcting her form, or her uncles giving her lip about how bland it might look at the moment, yet they were all gone- what felt like mountain ranges away. With a huff she finished flattening her nest out, the perfectionist in her shining through as she smoothed out the edges, pressing her forepaws in the middle so she could be encircled by the moss that night, as it was bound to be a lonely one.
Nevertheless, she would be a fool to let her true thoughts shine through, so as she leaned back on her haunches, she kept her face unreadable, looking to the small pile of shells and rocks she had collected for herself earlier that morning, an ivory-dipped paw reaching for one, in particular. The stone was red and smooth, with a sheer gloss, she found that this had been her favorite to find, unexplainably, it just drew her in.
She ponders going to look for Hound, as he was the closest thing she had to a friend in this place, the others either being former clanmates, an alluring mouse thief, or a calico with especially cold eyes for Azalea. Yeah... she'd much prefer Hound's company at the moment. She stands with tired legs and turns to exit the den.
❝ Speech. ❞
THE HATRED IN HER EYES
 


Just as the young she-cat was exiting the den, Mud had been headed in. He felt the smaller feline bump into his chest and let out a surprised, "Oh!" It was muffled by a mouthful of feathers, which he promptly spat out after taking a step back. "Woah! Sorry about that....Uh...Uhhzalea?" He was still learning names. She was from the marsh group, but awfully young to be here without her family. Of course, he wasn't aware they'd all gone to a different clan. Tilting his head, he grinned and stuck out a paw to prod at his feathers. "I had some extra, and I wanted to see if anyone in here wanted 'em for their nest!"
"speech"
 

GOT A HEAD FULL OF SPIDERS

Despite still settling into the new way of life, Frost was found being quite the watcher from where she would lay, her gaze drifting and watching as others went about her day, a young she-cat leaving one of the dens, she looked a bit into her own self from the movements she carried and then there was another, much older and carrying some feathers-he looked silly from where she watched but he was offering the feathers for the girl's nest and she moved onto her paws before making her way over, a warm smile upon her maw.

"May I have some?" she asked the tom happily, her tip tail swishing before flicking her bi-color gaze towards Azeala with an apologetic look. "Of course, that is if you're willing to share, if not I propose an offer, I can help you find the best spot for the most prettiest items near the river" she prompted towards her gently, hoping that the other would accept either things that Frost had offered up towards the other she-cat.
"speak""Thoughts"
 



✵ ღ ☾ IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE - Almost immediately after she turns, her snout is smushed into the chin of another, she flinched backwards, ready to give a verbal cuff over the ears towards whoever wasn’t watching where they were going.
Instead, she is met with a welcoming amber gaze and… feathers? She is momentarily at a loss for words as she watches the tom set down his bundle.
Uhhzalea?
Close enough, she supposed. He gestures to the colorful feathers he was carrying, ❝ Oh. ❞ She replies, her tone a little flat, but looking back up at his cheerful grin, she dips her head as if she was greeting him for the first time, ❝ Yeah, my names Azalea, or Azzie, whatever you prefer. You are..? ❞ She introduces with an inquiry, blissfully unaware of his relation to a certain brindled molly. Another approaches, asking to have some feathers. Normally, Azzie was the least sharing person around, but she didn’t have any sort of attachment to the feathers- not yet at least. ❝ Yeah, no problem. I’m usually not one for decor, know any good hunting spots? ❞ She prompts instead, taking only a couple feathers from the bundle and nudging the rest towards Frost.
❝ Speech. ❞
THE HATRED IN HER EYES
 
Adjusting to their new life in RiverClan has proven to be difficult. Each night, Beesong finds themselves longing for the pine forest rather than the babbling river. They miss SkyClan.

Still, Beesong tries to hold onto their waning optimism. At least some of their former groupmates now reside in RiverClan, too. The cinnamon tabby finds themselves sticking to those recognizable faces like a burr, the sense of familiarity bringing a semblance of comfort to them. Today, it happens to be Mud that they're following around like a lost puppy, looking like a small child next to the large tom.

The large chocolate tom nearly runs into a younger she-cat who Beesong does not recognize, and he forces a puff of laughter. "Better watch where you're going before you crush someone," comments the scarred tom, the numbness that's settled over him lending itself to his deadpan voice.

Uhhzalea, Mud calls the blue tabby. She offers a gentle correction, but Beesong acts as if they hadn't heard it. "Nice to meet you, Uhhzalea." Azalea and Mud would be foolish to think that they would let this go anytime soon.

Frost offers to show Uhhzalea the best place to find pretty trinkets. While the blue tabby doesn't seem too keen on the offer, Beesong's ears perk, his eyes immediately scanning the ground for anything that he could give. He spots a stick nearby, and goes to scoop it up. "Hey, I'll give you a stick instead if you show me." What would Frost want with a stick? Hell if he knows. It was just the closest thing.
 

− ♱ ABOUT : azalea. one of the marshland refugees that followed after him in favor of the river, though it had taken her a couple extra days to leave the swamps. he understood, really — his time since constructing riverclan had been strikingly lonely so far, despite how he tells himself it has to be. she was lily pad’s girl, one of howling wind’s grandchildren, and a part of him is surprised he didn’t see the rest of their extensive family washing up along his shore. they were a tight - knit group from what he’d seen, and it didn’t seem likely that they would let the youth come all this way alone. time had passed, however, and they’d not shown ; he wonders now where they are. the split had come with cost beyond the violence that preceded it, loss now a staple in the hearts of most around him. while he knew not what happened, his heart ached for her loss as well. the man makes little sound as he approaches, only a hum of interest as he rounds close enough to see the multitude of feathers sprawled at mud’s paws, “ you must’ve given that bird a good talking to. “ he trills, amusement heavy in his accented vocals while he comes to a stop aside frost.

she was asking for the feathers, and after the tabby gives her tentative yes, he would aim to pick one up — a dark, white - studded one — and tuck it into the fur behind the alabaster youths ear. they would be good for weaving, for nests ; but there was something about the ivory - tipped feather that pulled towards her, “ it suits you, i’d say. “ cicada speaks, the rubber black of his maw quirking upwards into the ghost of a smile. the river cats were not his biggest fan, he knew ; the man could only hope that he could keep the nerves that bite at his heels safely at bay. it’s difficult, especially as a certain cinnamon tabby makes their appearance ; but he keeps himself lax. the tension that threatens to rise in his muscles screams from the pads of his paws and the man takes a sharp breath, forcibly pushing his hunched shoulders down and casting a warm, if hesitant glance towards bee. he could trust them. he had the stars guidance that he could trust them. he mentions a stick in return for being shown where to find pretty trinkets and cicada tips his head, visible interest crossing his bicolored expression as he suggests, “throw in a second stick and let me tag along?

icy luminaries would drift toward the blue tabby molly once more, the newly and unfortunately dubbed uhhzelea, “ we could hunt along the way? ” he’s partially joking, though finding trinkets did sound like a good way to pass the time. his smile softens, then, “ howve you been holding up, liebling?


  • CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
    − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
    − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers

  • none.

 

GOT A HEAD FULL OF SPIDERS

There would seem to be no need for her offer to Azeala as she agreed to giving Frost whichever feathers she had not taken from Mud as the other she-cat nudged the pile towards her and she would gently paw them closer when two more cats arrived, subtly nodding towards what Azzie had proposed as she took it into consideration as to what she asked.

The first to approach had been Beesong, the cinnamon cat who came to their bordered stunned and in dissarray, claiming to be Riverclan's "medicine cat" which was a strange thing to call oneself but Beesong seemed to be settling well as they didn't look nearly as out of it when they had first come to Riverclan's border. Beesong would even take into note of Mud's mistake which brought a spark of amusement in her normally cold bi-colored eyes. Of course the young apprentice aged she cat had not expected them to quickly scramble to find something, such as a stick which got a slight hum of amuesment warranted from Frost, at least they were seemingly doing better

The second to approach was Cicada, a face in which was rare to come by but even then she's starting to realize that perhaps the struggle of the new land changes and with coming of that, the loners, such as Spider or Buck, weren't very keen on Riverclan's arrival to the wetland, but he was trying from what she could tell as he grabbed a feather from the pile of feathers to tuck between her curled ears. Blinking her bi-colored eyeso would dip her head slightly in thanks, being as she too wasn't one for many words, but even then, Cicada also found an interest in Frost's offer and even threw in a stick himself as a remark. "Of course, knock two birds out with one stone, I'm up for a little hunt and showing the best spots for the most shinest things near the river" Frost said
"speak""Thoughts"