private CASTAWAY ╱ TIMBER

[CICADASTAR]

the day wanes. greenleaf heat finally gives way to the gentle drift of evening, mud and willow cooling his sun - warmed pelt where he’s settled near the edge of their camp. aside him, picking at the bones of his meal, was the same elder to address him upon arrival. aged, pelt thinned and scruffed, stories of a life well lives in each jagged arch of him. the sky paints in shades of orange and red, watercolor reminder of a threat looming ever closer, " you’ve all been very courteous, despite whats happened to you. " it starts as a quiet rumble — a thoughtful muse, eyes cast towards where the river had once lain. cats talk, uneasiness fading if just by a bit.

he could have never. an influx of strangers vying for land, after moons of misery and starvation. a slow blink, and he glances over towards the tom — tips his head just slightly, ” is this.. normal, for your colony? id imagined they would clamber for the pile themselves first. “ a slight incline, a gesture towards a duo of cats picking at the remains of a smaller fish. their elders are fed, individual trout and salmon lying plucked as well they could at frail paws. the leader flicks a curious ear, icy eyes intent, ” in your place, i feel i would. a selfish thought, perhaps. “

COLD & CRUEL LIKE WINDS ON THE SEA  ╱ INFORMATION ✟

• i. @SNAPPING TIMBER get coded loser
  
• ★ ⋆ CICADASTAR −−−− FOUNDING LEADER OF RIVERCLAN. HOMOSEXUAL, MATED TO SMOKETHROAT. FIFTY MOONS, FATHER TO STARLIGHTKIT, CICADAKIT && BEEKIT. PENNED BY ANTLERS −−−−− ⁺₊✧
  
  
  he / him. tall, elegantly curled smoke tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt blue eyes. his structure sings a feral sort of hymnal, presenting an almost dangerous sort of beauty veiling what monstrosities lie beneath the ivory of his skull. jutting jawline and a squared chin, sunken cheeks drawing a shadow beneath high, sharp cheekbones with tall, angular ears settling high atop the flatter slope of his cranium. he is beautiful ; lucifer in the eyes of an envious god. for all his looks, his expression is lax, void — corpse - eyed and hollow until spoken to, sparking the undead to life. he is tall, lean, cut - glass pretty ; he smiles with too - many teeth, blackened frostbite pulling back his maw to bear canines setn beneath curling whiskers, pantomime skeletal. a predatory gracefulness from the lines that press the image of exhaustion beneath ice water hues to the slow, sure gait in which he walks, nameless strength poorly concealed within the hard lines of his physique. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unnaturally tall amongst his peers, always holding himself with a tragic sort of grace ; poised, prim, and uncannily aware of how he appears.
  
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── smells like wet moss and meadowland thunderstorms.
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── notoriously paranoid and closed off, cicadastar will tend to lie, assume, and jump to conclusions whenever it suits him. any 'suspicious' ic actions he witnesses or hears about will have a strong effect, and will have ic consequences! if you're unsure of an interactions outcome, please feel free to send a dm!
  
  no character opinions represent my own.​
  
  
• " speech "​
  
  
  

​

 

[SNAPPING TIMBER]

"Selfish?" Gently amused, and with a sparkle to wise green eyes as if he sees something that Cicadastar does not. He takes a delicate bite of the salmon before him, plump and well-caught, strange to his tastebuds but welcome nonetheless. A long moment trails onwards as he chews and swallows, and waits even longer before he speaks again. "I would not call it that. You have lived different lives than we." Timber's eyes turn to his colony mates, affection clear in the softening of his shoulders. They have been through much. They will go through much more. And still they treasure their knowledge. Their experience. He is blessed for this, and always thankful. The kits and the elders are beginning to slim out some, but not nearly as intensely as the bulk of their colony. Perhaps they would still have some time yet.

"They take care of us." The old tom's bony paw lifts to tap against his nose and sharp grey muzzle. "The older ones, you know." Another bite, another moment rolling forwards. Never to be caught again. How miserable and beautiful a thought. Fleeting as the sunset they now bathe in. "We have seen much. Lived a life that our youngers cannot fathom– the kits: one day they will stand in these same steps. Perhaps it's just as selfish to care for us as it is to feed themselves first." His eyes sparkle. "But a kind selfishness, regardless."

﹥ˏˋ  OOC NOTES ╱ REFERENCE ╱ 07.08.2023  𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘖𝘓𝘋 𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 ˊˎ＜

• ooc: SORRY AAAAA I DIDNT SEE THIS RIP

• 

• snapping timber ╱╱ 116 moons ╱╱ he - him - his ╱╱ elder of the ripple colony.
  ──── a weathered ancient tom that has been part of the colony since its very founding.
  ──── sexuality unknown. has had several mates in the past, and several litters of kittens.
  ──── can be assumed to know all ripple colony members,  and aware of current events.
  
  Weathered by time, a once-dark pelt lightened by a dusting of grey and cut by ancient scars, his figure is hardly imposing. Perhaps once he would have been, but by now the chocolate tabby is slow to rise from his nest. Even still, verdant eyes remain bright and intelligent, without loss of focus.

• "speech"

​

 

[CICADASTAR]

there is a still, sitting here. listening to the almost - growl of a voice aged beyond his moons and cicadastar, uncharacteristically, listens rapt. a tall ears swivels as the tom speaks, you have lived different lives than we, and he supposes so. the clans had formed moons ago now, stepping further from his life in the marshlands with each river - reflected sunrise. they take care of us, and thoughts of a time when his limbs ache to move and he cannot twist to bite his own ticks flood his mind ; he'd never considered it. he'd felt death's chilling embrace a number of times, but never once had the thought of old age plagued him as anything more than a passing idea, " perhaps some selfishness does us good. " would warriors bring him fish, one day? would starclan keep him alive until he turns to dust with each stride? surely not. frost still eats at him, a scar ever knotted at the soft part of his throat.

their food source depleted each day, but he could only assume those milling here had had even less in the moons past. still, they dutifully move to pick at what is left of his clan's gift. his eyes flit down, stare towards ivory paws where they writhe against the mud, flexing open - toed in thought. not for the first time, he wonders if he will be alive through it all ; through his mate's life, his children's, what friends he retains. cursed to return to this body regardless of its shape, healed and made to continue. why had briarstar not had the same? why not emberstar? we have seen much,, " have you seen anything like this? " his head tips towards the mud, whats left of the river down this way shimmering low in the swooping pits of muck, " one of my patrols had found a.. thing. a creature, like an otter but bigger, with a flat tail. " he is not all knowing. as much as he flaunts and pretends, he is only a cat ; born to a mother who'd fought to survive, and passed down her difficulties to him.

blue eyes twitch towards his warriors, scrutinize where they interact with the friendlier personalities of the colony. it was rare he gets to speak like this — in truth, away from the image he’d built for himself and home, " i worry that starclan is warning me of things to come. " did they know of starclan? would he be able to watch over them, even when stars line his pawpads? cicadastar turns his sloped head to look towards him, snapping timber, furrows his brow, ” what would you do? “ in his paws, if he could. if he’d seen this creature splayed on his own land. vague, perhaps, but his gaze is searching — imploring. wisdom, the leader finds himself short of it.

COLD & CRUEL LIKE WINDS ON THE SEA  ╱ INFORMATION ✟

• i. ITS SO OKAY I DIDNT GET THE NOTIF YOU RESPONDED TO THIS ??
  
• ★ ⋆ CICADASTAR −−−− FOUNDING LEADER OF RIVERCLAN. HOMOSEXUAL, MATED TO SMOKETHROAT. FIFTY MOONS, FATHER TO STARLIGHTKIT, CICADAKIT && BEEKIT. PENNED BY ANTLERS −−−−− ⁺₊✧
  
  
  he / him. tall, elegantly curled smoke tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt blue eyes. his structure sings a feral sort of hymnal, presenting an almost dangerous sort of beauty veiling what monstrosities lie beneath the ivory of his skull. jutting jawline and a squared chin, sunken cheeks drawing a shadow beneath high, sharp cheekbones with tall, angular ears settling high atop the flatter slope of his cranium. he is beautiful ; lucifer in the eyes of an envious god. for all his looks, his expression is lax, void — corpse - eyed and hollow until spoken to, sparking the undead to life. he is tall, lean, cut - glass pretty ; he smiles with too - many teeth, blackened frostbite pulling back his maw to bear canines setn beneath curling whiskers, pantomime skeletal. a predatory gracefulness from the lines that press the image of exhaustion beneath ice water hues to the slow, sure gait in which he walks, nameless strength poorly concealed within the hard lines of his physique. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unnaturally tall amongst his peers, always holding himself with a tragic sort of grace ; poised, prim, and uncannily aware of how he appears.
  
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── smells like wet moss and meadowland thunderstorms.
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── notoriously paranoid and closed off, cicadastar will tend to lie, assume, and jump to conclusions whenever it suits him. any 'suspicious' ic actions he witnesses or hears about will have a strong effect, and will have ic consequences! if you're unsure of an interactions outcome, please feel free to send a dm!
  
  no character opinions represent my own.​
  
  
• " speech "​
  
  
  

​