development doesn't make the bat or the blood sacred || coming out

[loampelt]

(takes place after [this oneshot]!)​

Loampaw steps feel light, after.

It's a new day, just beyond daybreak when the sky is eggshell-white and the narrow horizon line, hidden behind a barrier of trees, is gold. There isn't enough light for there to be defined shadows yet; the dark that pools in the shape of Loampaw is edgeless and stretched — as if Loampaw could melt into the treaded-soft soil that makes up the floor of camp. Camp stirs in the way that it always does, cats of every rank stretching themselves awake or letting a yawn win and letting their heads rest once more.

"Hey," Loam tries, but finds himself too quiet to make it over the din of conversation. He inhales, tries again, "HEY!" and finds the eyes on him that he'd sought.

"'M making uh-ah-an announce-seh-seh-ment, so pay att-att-attent-ention! Everyone, I-eee-uh just wanted t-tuh-to-to say..." Loam hesitates for the first time, then straightens his spine and puffs his chest, "Say that sh-sh-sheeee-cat isn't how I-eee-uh feel anymore! Or ever. 'M my oh-own thing." ​

tags ∘ shadowclan apprentice ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 10 moons​

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[BRINDLEPAW]

(=🝦 ﻌ 🝦=) — This type of thing was far from unfamiliar to Brindlepaw thanks to personal expirence. Only he from out of the womb knew he was not meant to be a she-cat, but a Tom. By the time he was two moons old he had made it loud and clear and without a fight everyone had adjourned to his rightful identity. He hardly even thinks of the newborn kit he had left behind.

Some figure out their paths later than others, Brindlepaw looks at Loampaw with intrigue. ”Okay… well what is you then?” Perhaps it sounded challenging or sarcastic, but anyone who knew Brindlepaw would know he’d be one of the last to question or dismiss such a self-revelation.— tags​

 

[GECKOSCREECH]

⊵ a pointed face would lift up from its resting place upon sandy paws when someone shouted above the rest for attention and all eyes would fall upon the onyx apprentice with the crooked limb who stood front and center with a declaration sitting upon his tongue that must be heard. geckoscreech sits up a little straighter, one paw crossing over the other as the chatter around camp dwindles down to a minimum to give loampaw the floor.

the warrior would sense the hesitation that clung to the apprentice's fur and wondered if stage fright has gotten the best of him but instead of shrinking away from the crowd loampaw corrects his posture to appear alot more confident and with the golden glow of the slow rising sun behind him it certainly gave off quite the look. ' she-cat isn't how i feel anymore! ' comes out the stammered confession.

brindlepaw is the first to respond, curious as to what exactly his denmate means by 'own thing'. perhaps they'll be told the specifics soon.

"well, congratulations on figuring yourself out." she mews, offering loampaw a small smile.
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【 THERE'S SO MANY FAKE ASS PEOPLE PREYING ON YOU.】

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† It's a day like any other.

The sun warms Sharppaw's face, more tangible now than he'd felt it in moons. He cannot remember the dull world he was born to. Hardly remembers any in between, from there to the leaf-bare that had wrenched his stability right from under his feet. She's always been who she was, though; couldn't remember a day where she wasn't. Even if she doesn't know what she is, it's her. Did that make sense?

Loampaw is loud for once, and Sharppaw thinks that warrants attention. Pay attention, stuttered out. Sharppaw chews his lips, dark fur prickling along his spine. Attention, they already had. His ears flatten, then rise again. Indecisive. Loampaw's always been... Loampaw. Sharppaw has nothing to add. "Okay."​

 

[✧ Siltcloud.]

WHAT AN EXPENSIVE FAKE
siltpaw | 11 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally medium | attack in bold #ddadaf

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A surprising number of shadowclans members do not strictly identify as the gender they were born. Siltpaw is not one such cat, but she seems to surround herself with them nonetheless. Brindlepaw, sharppaw, nettlepaw, chilledstar to name a few - honestly the list could go on but siltpaw only really cares about those closest to her, the same way she always has. Dull green gaze meets loampaws rather evenly, head tipping to the side as her lips twitch upwards into the faintest hint of a smile. "... I'm happy you found yourself," she says simply, since brindlepaw has already asked the only other pertinent question. If not a she-cat does loampaw feel like a tom, or neither, or something else entirely? It's not an unfamiliar situation at all, and so she's content to wait for the answer.
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[loampelt]

Brindlepaw doesn't challenge Loampaw, but he grins like it's a challenge nonetheless. All off-white teeth, he says, "What mmm-muh-makes you think 'mm tuh-t-tuh-telling you that?" Then, a head tilt, thought, "I-eee-uh guess 'm... a buh-bit of everything. When you t-tuh-talk about me, you sh-shsh-should use the sorts oh-oo-of words that you'd you-use for a t-tuh-tom, but 'm not th-that."

His other clanmates chime in with their own congratulations or, in the case of Sharppaw, a dispassionate acknowledgement that only makes Loampaw grin harder. He offers Geckoscreech a thankful nod and touches his nose to Siltpaw's cheek, then turns to Sharppaw, tone teasing, "Yeah? Okay? Nothing el-else t-tuh-to say?" ​

tags ∘ shadowclan apprentice ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 10 moons​

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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they remember the day they came out. it wasn't nearly as nice as loampaw's seemed to be. they weren't so bold about it. they had been scared– scared to speak up. scared to say that they weren't a she cat... that they weren't a tom cat either. they simply were– and they didn't know how to explain that feeling to their parents. to their friends. their mother did her absolute best and though she had her days, she loved them all the same. their father always slipped up but constantly made excuses. he didn't actually want to try to understand— one of the many reasons that chilledstar hates him. there are many but that is certainly upon the list. either way, they won't ruin this for loampaw. they want loampaw to feel comfortable– just like they wish for every cat within shadowclan. they knew some cats hadn't been so accepting of transgenderness, or even differing sexualities, but chilledstar could ignore it for themself. if anyone even tried to do that for any cat within their clan, they'd find themselves gutted like a riverclan's fish.

"glad you've found yourself, loampaw."
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