border celestial bodies // joiners

[lovage]

The night's moon does not sink once the sun begins to rise. In his basking rays, she dims - she shies from the light that he presses against the earthly grounds, only allowing a glimmer of a promise to return once again. Once he finds rest on the western side, when his warmth slinks away, the moon will return. Her plethora of stars will shine again, providing the only light that the little family needs as they traverse the maze of homes and roads. And she watches dutifully, as a mother tugs a lone kitten away from something curious and urges them along. Fear pitter patters in the feline's chest, yet all she has to fear has resigned with the sun.

Pitter patter, indeed. Lovage counts every step that she hears upon the pavement. One set here, one set there. A third set nearly between her two forepaws as she, herself, creates the final fourth set. Nothing must be out of place, for their security relies on them being alone on this path for far too long. New fears bloom in her chest as the sky's dark navy hues begin to lighten into powder soft blues. Yellows and oranges streak the sky only briefly, signaling the end of the long night. The mother withholds a soft whimper as the sun domineers the sky, banishing the light of the stars from being seen once again. No, it's okay, she tries to tell herself. You can make it, it's okay.

Lovage counts again - one, two, three... four - as the houses thin considerably. She helps her kittens skirt fences that are no longer well built, tucking themselves beneath chain links ripped from the ground, or through rotted holes in the wood. She manages them over the top of one particular fence, too - but the pained whimper of soft paws hitting the ground on the other side makes her heart bleed, and she decides against pushing her little petals through that mess again. Eventually, there are no homes, no roads, no fences. Just... trees. Trees that scrape the sky, their nettles littering the ground underfoot. These woodlands, she knows... are claimed.

Thankfully, that's why she's arrived today.

She thanks the stars she cannot see. Lovage counts - one, two... three - and she tugs a short tail back to her side before they cross into land they do not belong to. The scent line is strong, and though she cannot discern a single cat from the next, the loner decides that there being a scent line at all means that there must be rules to obey. Rules that, hopefully, her children will heed to in time. Her stomach pains, and she counts the mournful four as she reminds herself that without her, her children would be lost. She did all of this... for them. Her missing eye stings, but she does not weep. Not right then. She still has strength in her trembling limbs.

"Sit still, my little sprouts. The... The cats of this forest will come soon enough, and if they do not see you behaving, then they will not take you in," a motherly threat if she ever had one. She draws her tongue between the ears of one kit, presses her nose to the forehead of the next, and drapes her tail around the body of the last. Please, she doesn't say, dearly hoping that the Clan she's come to beg asylum from does not turn them away. They've come so far. Please do not turn us loose. This is all we have.

[ pls wait for at least one kitten to post!! <3 @birchkit @Oleanderkit @mercurykit ] ​

 

[Oleanderkit]

In theory, Oleander doesn't mind the move. Mama had told her all about how Nightshade was quite evil, and he'd scarred Mama's eye before Oleander had been born, and he'd killed Oleander's papa, which was all very cruel. Lovage had mercifully spared her children the grisly details, but she did not shy away from explaining what had happened with the even deftness of scissors snapping shut. If moving meant getting away from Nightshade and the cats that had hurt her Mama, then Oleander was happy to put that distance in place... at least in theory.

In practice, the move was very hard. She is a kit of two moons, hardly weaned, hardly able to understand the tragedy that had been carefully explained to her. She does not count the sets of paws that plod alongside her own. She does not even think of Nightshade following them, creeping behind them, daring them into his claws so he could take what was his — what he thought was his — back to the colony. She thinks even less of Lovage's own fears plaguing the eye she has left. The eye Nightshade had not stolen.

What Oleander thinks about instead is the ache in her small, petal-white paws, and the stinging of the nick on her nose that she'd earned ducking beneath a wire fence. Her limbs were not made to travel this far, not yet, and still Lovage pushes her and her littermates onwards. Didn't Mama know she was tired? And spirits, her hunger! She is so hungry, she... she might eat a leaf, or something.

At some point, the girl bumps into one of the siblings that flank her. At another, she tumbles off a fence in an ungraceful leap, whimpering at the other side. Finally, she wrinkles her nose as SkyClan's scent line slaps her in the face. When Lovage seats her, she straightens her prim posture on the correct side of the line — not that she understands what it is — and tries her best not to slouch like a mountain hemlock. She's hot. She's sniffling. She's hungry. But Mama wants her to sit still, and her vague threat schools the girl into obedience. Her seafoam gaze slides along her other littermates, hoping that they would be acting similarly, before turning back to Lovage herself.

She accepts her mother's tail around her as she launches into a question: "We aren't going home?" It's silly, confused in a kitlike and cruel way, though she does not mean to be cruel. She'd put the distance between Nightshade and herself now, so... when did she get her reward? Oleander does not fully grasp this taking in, these cats of this forest. She tilts her head. "Where are we?"

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 02 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

" If the cat is inside the border, you challenge them, " she mrrows to Cloudypaw as the two of them lope through the territory, the tabby moving with brisk, unwavering steps. " If they're waiting on the scent line, be wary, but there's no need to be aggressive. Unless they seem threatening, anyways, " she adds as they move quickly along. In a Clan where new joiners flood in every moon, washing up on SkyClan's shores—some of them soft as seaglass, others sharp - edged as bone—it is vital that her apprentice understands how to handle them.

" There's someone now. Or someones, " she mrrows, flicking her half - tail to urge her apprentice to accompany her forward. Doeblaze bounds forward, moving easily in the sparkling new light of the sun, the soreness long fled from the rippling muscle in powerful forelimbs. To the desperate queen, she looks to have nothing in common with her—tight - jawed and hard - edged, sharpness in a lone green eye, muscle set heavy under rumpled fur—but Doeblaze knows that it's the very opposite.

For when Lovage comes into view, pawsore and wounded, small kittens drawn up around her—well, it's a familiar scene, stinging in a way that makes her lips tighten over concealed fangs. Recent tragedy has eclipsed earlier ones, many shades of moonlight cast over the withering landscape of her life, but she has not forgotten those first aches. Her long strides slow to careful pawsteps, as if trying not to scare a deer—and though she's no longer a lead warrior, which is nobody's fault but her own, she somewhat abandons typical joining protocol. How could she not, when the little family looks so in need of help?

" Stars, " she murmurs lowly, the jade - sharpness of her eye softening as it sweeps over Lovage and her kits—the sniffling girl with the cut dug into her tiny nose, the two other kits looking just as weary, their mother with her scarred eye and trembling legs. " Cloudypaw, run and find a patrol. Tell them to get Orangestar, or one of the lead warriors at least. Then come back. Okay? " she confirms with her apprentice, nodding as he hopefully scampers off.

" This is SkyClan's border, " she informs Lovage as her scruffy head turns back towards the queen, seaglass - green eye meeting the other's similarly lonesome one without hesitation. " I take it you're looking to join us? " It's a presumption based solely on the fact that the family has clearly waited on the other side of the border rather than barging in ( a fact much appreciated ), on the weighed - down exhaustion of the mother and the tired scraps at her paws. " My apprentice'll get our leader for you, or someone who can approve that. "

" We have someone who can treat wounds. Food for you and your kits. A nursery for you all to rest your paws, " she ticks off, blinking her lone eye in what she hopes is a reassuring manner. It's hard to believe anyone ( except maybe Slate ) would refuse these cats, and Orangestar is an honorable leader; Doeblaze does not think the ginger - and - white she - cat would turn the queen and her kits away.

OOC : —

♥︎

​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

IF THE POINT'S TO NEVER DISAPOINT YOU, SOMEBODY'S GOT TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO​

---

The smell of blood or a stranger on their own was usually enough to put Quillstrike on edge, but when he caught them lingering on the air together he was downright unpleasant. They’d lost enough cats to strangers in his lifetime for the dark-furred chimera to have lost his sense of patience or pity toward them, and he had long ago put away any qualms he might have had with attacking first and asking questions later. Particularly with cats who didn’t have the common sense to keep from crossing his clans scentlines.

Unlike many of the large cats in the clan who struggled with climbing, the dark tabby didn’t seem to share in that problem as he navigated the branches of the canopy overhead, crossing and jumping expertly from one branch to another. He knew by now what could hold his weight and what couldn’t, and his long, powerful legs more than made up for the distance he needed to clear those thinner walkways in order to reach the thicker ones beyond.

Claws dug furrows into the trunk as he made his way down, leaping the last several feet to land on the forest floor with a soft thump so he could make his way over to where Doeblaze and Cloudypaw were standing up ahead. If whoever it was had chosen to wait at the border then it was likely an injured joiner rather than a rogue attacking a clanmate. Always the better option, but it wasn’t enough to assure him that Doeblaze would be safe out here on her own with only her young apprentice as back up.

So he made his way over with his usual bristling fur and unfriendly eyes, not surprised when Cloudypaw rushed past him in the direction of their camp, likely to find a healer. Quill was never fond of wasting their herbs on strangers, but if the cat was going to stay and work it off then-

His gaze widened in surprise when he came around Dowblaze to find a shecat hunkered over four small kits. Missing an eye, covered in dirt, and looking worse for wear, the entire little family had almost defeated look to them. Whatever journey they’d taken to get here hadn’t been kind to them.

”Your injuries- how’d you get them?” he asked, lacking any kind of finesse as he gave her and her kits quick once over before glancing out into the woods beyond them. Unlike Bobbie, Quillstrike did not flourish in situations that demanded empathy and tact. He was blunt and to the point, a quiet cat who’d never been a fan of beating around the bush even during times that demanded sensitivity. And right now his main priority was making sure that whatever had attacked this shecat hadn’t followed her right to his clans border.
​

---

skyclan - male - 29 months (Feb 17th) - mated to Twitchbolt - a very tall, dark chimera tomcat with mismatched eyes and several scars. has bluejay feathers woven like spikes along his spine and neck.

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Twitchbolt’s quilled fur was pointed skyward, spined and reaching — the sun flared down on them all, but even the muggy heat haze didn’t block the warm, but close, scent of a cat. Many, in fact - olivine eyes blew wide, a wariness taking root that he was familiar with. Not long behind Doeblaze and Quillstrike did he trot, two cats he knew well- and that was a relief, indeed- already assessing the situation. He parted his maw to say something to Candorpaw, but paused when the tang of blood wove in with the loner scent, and cautious pupils befell a face carved with a blinding injury not long ago. Afresh, crimson - he bit his tongue, swallowed the sickness. Kittens, too, swarming at her heels.

Greenleaf tempered his wariness a bit, but the sight of this staggering family managed it a little bit more - eked him out of the pit of anxiety and right into pity.

He drifted to Quillstrike’s side, drifting his tail against his mate’s for just a moment, a calming gesture. His question was a sound one, though — Twitchbolt waited to hear her answer for a few moments, before a spasm of namesake stutters overtook his eyelids, and he released a deep sigh.

Cloudypaw had been sent — he gave the warning. Though he was no longer deputy, Twitchbolt knew within himself the right thing to do would be to allow this cat safe passage, healing, even if she did not want to stay as Doeblaze had assumed. It was a call he felt confident to make. “We - we’ll take you to camp. Get you treated,” and the most suspicious parts of himself screamed that she could be a liar, she could be fooling them - but the three of them had claws, right? “So long as no one’s following you.”​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[mercurykit]

Of the kittens that travel with Lovage, it is Mercury that is perhaps the most aggrieved by the instruction given by its Mama that they are all to leave their home and go elsewhere. At first it had complained, then it had tried yelling, followed by crying, but nothing had swayed her, and so they had made off, all together. It had sulked at first, pouting and stomping its paws as it walked, but that was done away with when the journey grew more difficult.

At one point, the little kitten tries to stop, to trail after a beetle and chomp it up, but it's quickly tugged back into place and pushed to keep walking. Later on, it's bumped by a sibling scowls at her, bumping her readily in return. Another time, it grabs a sibling and flops down on the ground, refusing to move as it tries to rest its paws, to take a break for even a moment. Danger isn't on its mind, the thought of Nightshade not even a whisper of concern. It's too tired, too sore, too hungry.

Eventually, they finally reach a border, and it is told to sit, which is does without question, relieved to be done walking. It's exhausted, just wanting to curl up and sleep. It doesn't, not yet, but it does slouch slightly in its spot, not perking up even as a tongue draws over its head in a motion that is meant to comfort, but does nothing for the kitten who is too distracted by its woes to be affected by it. Instead, it lets out a whine. "Are we done walking, mama?" it asks, looking up at her with wide eyes, hopeful.​

 

[Oleanderkit]

Cats begin to slink towards them. Some are hurried, and others aren't. They all look at her little family with concern bright and clear on their faces. The first one that speaks to them is the brown one with white spots and many littered scars — Oleander's first thought is that she sort of looks like Lovage, motherly and soft. Harmed. Warm despite it. She has a voice like a hearth, and she lists a good few benefits of joining, whatever that meant here.

She glances back at Lovage first, looking for permission to speak. This lady is really nice, so she thinks she must sit very still, including a still tongue. That way Doeblaze won't change her mind about being so nice. She has questions, though: what's your name? Did Nightshade give you your scars? Where are you from? Can I go eat, please? Can I go rest, please? But she doesn't speak after all, unsure of how to handle the situation. Instead she draws her pink-blushed paws beneath herself, sniffling with the small effort, ears flicking as the heat of her body spread uncomfortably down into her toes.

The second cat that approaches is black as midnight, mottled through with gray clouds. He looks very cross to see them. This makes Oleander shrink slightly into her own feverish berry skin. He asks them all how they'd gotten their injuries, and then looks off into the distance as if that thing were still following them — but Oleander considers only the nick on her nose in this question. Without waiting for permission (because she thinks it would be rude not to answer him), she squeaks, "My nose got hurt from a big wiry twiggy thing." Saucer-wide seafoam eyes fix Quillstrike in their focus as she tries to gauge whether that was a good answer or not.

The final one that approaches is chocolate in color, patinated white in great swaths. Of the three that have approached, he seems the most nervous, maybe even more nervous than her own mother. Still, his nerves do not prevent him from speaking kindly, and with authority. After a few moments, he doesn't look nervous at all. Instead his expression sags with its sadness, and Oleander's ears twitch as she wonders whether that sadness was for her. She's not sad, so why is this cat sad? In fact, all three of the strangers seem to carry this dim mood with them to some degree. Oleander glances to her sibling as it whines, tired and sore and hungry like she is.

They'll be taken to camp, and they'll be treated, as long as nobody's following them. This implication finally drives a bolt of fear through her vertebrae. Was someone following them? Was it Nightshade? But they'd worked so hard to put the distance between them, she would hate for him to have erased it, the whole way mere pawsteps behind her instead of miles like she'd thought. No matter the thought that she'd return home tonight — she had thought that she'd done it, and the implication of anything otherwise sends her kitten mind into nervous spirals.

Ember-dappled shoulder slumps into Mercury, her own placid expression unraveling into a soundless wail. "Mama! Did... did he follow us?" Oleander sniffles, her eyes now glassy with incoming tears. She presses into her mother's tail, shoving her snotty pink nose into it in search of some small comfort. "No! No!" But we did it! Didn't we succeed? She's so god-damned tired, she can't imagine making this journey all over again.

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 02 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

​

 

[lovage]

Observant is the mother who runs, a gentle caress of her tail against her child's side whilst her ears track the noise just beyond them. The cats of the woodland seem too quiet, but she does not exhibit the remnants of fear so boldly so that her children may grasp them. She simply listens to little Oleander, her chest aching as she sees her darling child sniffle and nurse a wounded nose, and shakes her head. "Home... we don't have one anymore, darling," it's difficult to explain to kittens of their age. Where are we? sounds next, but thankfully the rustling of sparse undergrowth and louder scents assault her senses.

A she-cat who stands tall despite her height, who holds herself well despite the shreds of fur and skin taken from her - who's eye is missing, not unlike her own. Lovage does not mourn that she has lost her signifying trait, nor does she celebrate that she is not alone in the matter. She's learned over the last few moons that observing the world now is no easy feat. Doeblaze sends off a smaller cat before approaching on gentle paws. SkyClan, she calls it. Lovage graces her gaze over her curious child again, the answer to little Ollie's question answered. She turns back, fatigue suddenly weighing in her limbs. Medicine, food, a nice nest - Lovage would've taken the pine nettles beneath their paws in an instant and yet the kind she-cat offers far more.

"Yes," she breathes, but she does not move quite yet and neither does she let her kittens wander. "I heard of the Clans through word of mouth... to be absolutely frank, I'm surprised that it wasn't all a farce." Lovage knows just as well as she would've damned herself and her litter if it was. But she would be dead either way, and though it hurts to come to terms with, the queen thinks the risk of losing her kittens is a far worse outcome in any capacity. At least... at least if the Clans were fake and they were to wander indefinitely, she would've saved them from the life she lived. Ignorant and vengeful she was, softened by kittenish mewls and sorrows she's become. And yet she'd do it all over again if she had to.

More cats arrive, though she grows no more wary by the crowd. The first had already offered her and her young safety and shelter. The rest wouldn't deny that of them, would they? The monochromatic tom asks just how she got hurt, and though his stern demeanor is likely softened by the bicolor tom that approaches his side, Lovage frowns at the idea of relaying her life story to any of them. Must she do so now? "I..." she opens her maw, staring at the two for a few long moments. Again she is promised care, but this time the caveat has less to do with her injuries and more to do with if she's followed.

Her jaw tenses, and before she can make any sense of the implication, her children slump together in a pitiful, tear-filled pile. For perhaps the first time since arriving on the border, Lovage dismantles her well-put-together visage for the sake of folding down alongside her children. She apologizes very quickly to the SkyClan warriors, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry -" Ollie's noise must be scaring their prey, wherever it lies. She tries to funnel her attention to the sniffling kitten, pressing her nose to the other's forehead for a long, prolonged moment. She takes in a deep breath, trying to calm Oleander, and exhales it in the same manner.

"We were not followed, little leaf," she chirps softly. "You each did very well, I promise." Lovage doesn't afford any of the present cats a look of distaste or frustration for as much as she loves her children, she cannot help but feel ashamed for their actions. Especially when these cats offer to spend their resources on her small family, only for her litter to act so... outlandish. This isn't unlike her little ones, however. And it has been a long journey, so she cannot blame them, either. It's simply a tireless game of guilt and remorse for no one but herself - yet pride and relief that they've made it this far at all.

She does not stand right away, holding her triplets close to her form to keep them from crying too loud. Injuries, "I've been attacked in the past... a rogue's life, I guess you could say. I stopped fighting when I found out I was having little ones of my own," simple, she thinks. The details... the details are unnecessary. Followed? "We've walked all night, from the second the sun dipped from the sky and then returned once again. We... we can't have been followed. I promise," is that something she can promise at all? Lovage isn't sure.

The queen dips her head slightly, an incline that holds while she introduces herself. "My name is Lovage - it is a pleasure to finally see what the Clans are, even if we are a little... worse for wear at the moment." A single blue eye flutters back to her children, "This is Birch, Mercury, and Oleander. They've... just started to wean. I hope that's no issue?" A twinge of concern sparks in her gaze as she looks back towards the SkyClanners, pushing herself into a more upright position but not yet leaving her kits' sides.​

 

[birchkit]

The journey is long and treacherous. The stars shine above, for them, her mother said. Birch believes - she believes that they will bring them to safety, even if she doesn't understand the concept of 'safety' or what danger lies back home. She understands, enough, that this is necessary. They have to keep moving.

Soft coos reach his littermates as they whimper and cry, but his optimism is short-lived as eventually she, too, falls victim to weary paws and droopy ears. Her paws hurt, her stomach growls, and her tiny body feels heavy with exhaustion. It was a hard move, and the chirping kitten eventually falls quiet.

At last, they arrive at their destination. A pink nose presses against Birch's forehead as the kittens are told to behave, and she complies - if not for obedience, for the fact that she has no energy left to cause mischief. One by one, strangers stream out of the woodlands. Birch does not shrink closer to her mother; rather, her curiosity invigorates her. If not for his mother's careful grasp on each kitten, she would have walked right up to the first cat who greets him.

Strange words fall smoothly off the eyeless molly's tongue - apprentice, nursery, camp. Birch vaguely attributes the word 'leader' to Nightshade, the scary tom who kept the kittens under tight isolation. But, something about the maternal aura about the warrior comforts her and draws her mind away from her former life. " "Sky - Clan, " the kitten echoes, sharply pronouncing the word and testing it on his tongue. He quite likes the sound of it - assuming it means he will be living amongst the treetops and clouds.

But, as the adults begin talking back and forth to each other, she becomes aware of her tiredness again. Whatever anticipation fueled by dreamy curiosity quickly dissipates, and she is reminded just how much her paws hurt. His siblings whimper and cry, and he finds himself in a desperate attempt to comfort and hush them, only to be dragged into it himself.

" "C - can we go now? " Birch mews out, pressing closer to the bundle of crying kittens and staring up at Lovage with wide, teary eyes. No matter where - the clouds, the trees, the nursery. All he wanted to do.. was take a nap..

BIRCHKIT ( she/he )​

✦
✦
✦
✦
✦
✦

( ooc ) sorry its late and a little rushed </3

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Fear flitted between these few faces; Twitchbolt's eyes flicked between them tiredly, ears flattening against the frightened, wobbling wails that blubbered from several of the children. Stars, he shouldn't have ... his paranoia had beaten his thoughts, but this convinced him tenfold that there wasn't any ill intention, wasn't any manipulation going on. He swallowed against mounting dryness in his throat, suppressing rising distress. Poor things, every one of them ... kittens crying might scare prey, but it'd be stupid to send them away, make them wait her. Rogue lifestyle, she said, and though Twitchbolt noted its vagueness, the blood was enough to convince him.

Amber-splashed eyes, stuck wide, flitted down to one kitten who asked in a small voice, can we go now? Tears glazed the eyes of the triplets, one of them hurriedly shushed by their mother. God, he'd never been a heartless type, and wasn't about to start now. Twitchbolt did not have to choose to listen to that part of himself- it burned to outshine the worry and paranoia that always squirmed within him.

"Yep- yeah. It's no issue at all. We have plenty of kits and queens to keep you company ..." Butterflytuft would welcome Lovage with open arms, he was sure. He trusted his friend would keep them in good company. Stealing one last look at Quillstrike and Doeblaze, a soft sigh slipped from his lips. "Come on. It's not- not a far walk, ss-so you'll be able to rest your paws soon." Cloudypaw had fled with forewarning on his lips... it would be alright.​

penned by pin ✧​