don't you cry no more [open/return from shelter]

So Bite Your Tongue and Watch Your Back

Life before was nothing like how life was now. There was a word probably for the chaos that this was. It was nothing like the occasional groupings of strays or the cold, organizing of the shelter they had left behind. There were so many cats, all escapees from the shelter, and yet here they were, arriving to an even larger group of cats. Remaining close to Ivy's side, sharp pale hues scanned the constantly referenced "Skyclan". Tearful reunions and moments of grief were in the air. She felt strange. She could empathize with these feelings, some her own and others she never felt but desired so deeply. Yet, perhaps her strange feelings were simply because, she was abandoned, and they weren't. Almost feeling overwhelmed by all the new scents and faces, her ears picked up the screeching of one of the shelter kits and was reminded by her own passenger. She should probably bring him to his loud brother, shouldn't she? Pressing against Ivy once more, she exhaled through her nose and decided to pad through the cats to arrive where Artorias was screeching his little lungs from.

// carrying @DOOMGUY, was remaining close to @ivy and heading to the nursery via hearing @Artorias Abysswalker screeching
 
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Toffee Mocha is happy when the crowd he's been following finally reaches SkyClan's camp, putting down Las Plagas who he's been carrying all this way. He keeps one of his front paws next to the kit as he takes a second to really, truly breathe for the first time in awhile. Even if the clan doesn't accept him, he's glad to be free, grass under his paws instead of metal.

But even as he basks in the joy, he isn't ignorant at the sudden sadness that permeates the air. He should have known that the she-cat that was put down would be important to many, and he's almost moved to tears himself as they mourn their loss. Since he doesn't have any connection to her, he doesn't know what to say to comfort anyone, and decides against it.


"Why don't we up n' go find someone to take care of ya?" Toffee comments to the kitten by his side, as he is his priority. He just hopes one of the queens will be willing to take care of him.

// OOC : Was carrying @Las Plagas and is sticking close to him! Looking for the nursery.​
 
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Had he expected the patrol to return at all? He does not know, and a part of him is ashamed to admit that. He has faith in the daylight warriors he'd chosen to go -- to an extent -- but Twolegs are not foxes, not badgers, not weasels. They are not so easily outwitted, not so easily driven away. He emerges from his den at the commotion in camp, ears pricked and tail lifted, awaiting a report.

The patrol leader himself emerges, and there's a strange air about those who filter after him. A cloud of emotions he cannot unravel. "The mission was a success- for the most part. I couldn't find Grizzlyridge or Sheepcurl anywhere, and Daisyflight... Well, I don't think she's comin' back, sir."

Blazestar shakes his head. "What?" He doesn't understand. "Why are they... they weren't there at all?"

Cats filter in, cats with strange and appalling scents. Metallic, laced with Twoleg and urine and the terror of cramped, unknown spaces. Kits swing from their scruffs. Eyes are dull with bleak expectations. Blazestar realizes immediately his patrol has freed more than just SkyClan warriors. He says nothing for the moment -- he sees skittishness in their postures. Unsure, uncertainty. He will address them, but --

The warriors he knows, he loves, he has loathed himself for being unable to protect -- they have returned. Quillstrike, Twitchbolt, Slate's bulky gray form, Butterflytuft and Snowpaw, and --

"Howlpaw?" The words leave him thinly, astonished. Is this an apparition, StarClan-sent? Is this their sign they approve of what SkyClan has done?

But she rushes to Fireflypaw and butts heads with him hard enough to concuss him. Blazestar's mouth runs dry, and when he moves, his paws are clumsy, limbs numb. "Howlpaw?!" He reaches her, lowers his muzzle to her fur. It has that same acrid, bitter scent as the other shelter cats, but even that stench cannot cloak the scent of his kits. The scent of Little Wolf.

"I thought... I thought you were dead," he says, his voice growing hoarse. "StarClan, I... I thought I wouldn't see you again until I..." He shudders, using a massive golden paw to tug her close to him. Tears dampen her fur, though he does not outwardly weep. "StarClan, thank you for returning her to me," he sobs, though it sounds dry and strange. Howlpaw. He has kept her after all.

Did Morningpaw keep you safe?

The shock of this return has drowned out the rest, but when new cries rise from his Clan, he has to lift his head. Weary. It's Figfeather, it's Greeneyes, and they've locked skulls with Snowpaw, with Butterflytuft.

Blazestar reluctantly pulls away from his daughter. "What?" Surely he hadn't heard that right?

But there's such strident grief in Snowpaw's golden gaze that Blazestar is convinced. In Twitchbolt's. In Quillstrike's. Blazestar's lower jaw trembles as he approaches them. "But, how? She can't... surely..."

Things go quiet for him, just for a moment. He looks at the group of mourning siblings, remembering a day long ago when he'd blundered into camp with a tortoiseshell kit ushered before him, Daisyflight heavily pregnant. Another day, the tortoiseshell dragging her newly birthed brood into camp on a lengthy fern.

The snap of her eyes meeting his as he names her deputy. "If you think that's best, Blazestar. With pleasure."

The forlorn darkness in her voice, barely a silhouette. "If I am to be mourned, let it be only once."

Blazestar chokes. "Daisy...?"

How is it he has thought she'd be here beside him for the rest of his life? How is it he forgot she's as fallible as any cat, as fragile?

But did StarClan accept you? Will you be waiting for me when I go?

His throat aches. He does not know what to say.

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
Thistleback prowls like a lion, tail hovering the ground and white nicked ears flat towards his spine where black brambles decorate him. As the threshold of Skyclan passes under his paws, his heart roars with victory and he wishes he could hiss his triumph into the face of the twolegs. He lifts his chin high as he watches the last of the patrol filter into the heart of home.

Taking a particularly long look at Blazestar’s face as he sees his daughter, alive. The way it twists with prayers of thanks to their ancestors, how the family clusters with happiness. Relief. Thistleback smirks, faintly. The heartbreak is reprieved for the moment.

Figfeather’s screams shatter it, demanding where her mother is. He offers a vow of silence in the moment he stands witness, his neck flexes with a mournful swallow. To watch someone’s heart break, was much different than watching them die. It’s worse. The pain in each of Daisyflight’s kits’ face, pierced a cold heart this day.

He’s reminded of a rain, where Daisyflight and he sit with fur plastered to their sides like sewer rats. Where Thistleback learned something about the lady that made her different. I’ll always watch over them, and I’ll always remember you when the rain comes, he prays silently.

Thistleback reopens his eyes to an angelic mocha molly, Quillstrike at the mercy of her affections. He pads forward to greet his beloved but he stops in his tracks momentarily, spotting a particular unfamiliar shelter cat looking quite a bit more than lost like the others. " you’ll be alright lass. Proper food, and breathable air. You’ve got nights under the stars to call home from now on. " he promises Hawk. Stilling as he spots that tabby once more. The memory swells again, not clear but just enough-

A much younger Thistleback is in a soft grassy garden. “ you fight rats every night? ” a voice asks, so faded the tone is forgot and the pitch is a ghost but the coat is like ash on bark. The remnants of a fire in a forest.

" Deersong " he calls to his mate as he catches her peering around wildly for him, willing himself out of this strange static of thoughts. He’d press his nose to her neck, breathing in flowers before moving to touch his nose to Quillstrike’s ear.


  • — spotting @DAMSEL
    interacting w / @~Deersong~ @QUILLSTRIKE

  • MqZ0nzd.png

    Thirty-seven moons EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
    — Lead warrior of Skyclan since 12.22.22
    Devoted to Deersong 9.29.22 | polyamorous
    Father of Coyotepaw, Pricklepaw, and Eveningpaw.
    — mentoring Snowpaw graduate(s) Quillstrike
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
    voice & accent
    biography・゚✧
    OPEN for Dice battles | 🎲 stine#3004
  • bVBPWus.png

 
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It's the longest his world has been silent in moons, Snapple's trek back into freedom.

It's quite the journey he's tasked to make, snow-brushed paws waddling along between shelter cats and SkyClanners alike. The golden tabby doesn't know if he's ever been aware of how vast the world was - of how much room he'd have to stretch his growing legs outside of his prison. His home - his first one, with his mother and brother, with his colony - was small in itself, nothing like the endless pine trees that tower over their journey.

When they arrive at their strange-looking destination, it's like the world remembers. The world remembers it must be loud. "Is this... SkyClan...?" The cat who'd freed him from his cage makes their presence known, and if Snapple didn't think their freed group was a lot of cats, he certainly thinks so now, with those that arrive to greet them.

Shouting, crying. Reunions are held, but in chaos almost as loud as the shelter, and Snapple doesn't understand. Shouldn't they... Shouldn't they be happy that their missing have been found? But, oh.

Oh.

The one who'd disappeared - taken away by twolegs to an area of the shelter he'd never seen opened, a return never made by the cat. She was a SkyClanner too. A loss with a large impact - had his own mother cried for him, like this one's children do for her?

The volume leaves him with flattened ears as he looks around SkyClan's camp, an air of uncertainty now wavering over him. Now what?
 

₊°✩ AND AS WE REACH THE END, WE'LL SAY :


Termitepaw's hopes were not high — it is rare that they are, for this cat ever-searching for a new target for her fears, grasping onto any hint, any whisper of disaster and clinging to it as though claiming it hers would make it hurt any less. She tried, she did, when first the disappearances started. She went on patrols, she asked any she could, she searched and she searched. But pessimism claimed her as it so often does, defeatist lethargy tugging like mud at her legs, sinking down, down, down.

Little comfort in the answer: twolegs, they were supposed to keep cats safe and little comfort in the misguided reassurances of Clanmates. Blazestar stood atop star-granted bough and declared his daughter dead under the watchful eye of the moon, and all that it brought was hollow resignation. Howlpaw, Ashenclaw. Bananasplash too, not long after her warrior ceremony. So many others; Termitepaw is not so selfish as to only care for those they know, yet the weight of all the lost threatens to blind should they look upon it directly. All gone and good as dead, disappeared into the unknown, and off marches Johnny and his patrol — their temporary mentor among them, another connection severed before the start — to meet their ends at the same unfathomable fate. They can barely stand to hope for a return; it will only hurt all the more when none comes.

And yet, they still wait in perfect stillness, with eyes set on the gorse tunnel.

And yet, despite the futility, the hopelessness — there is Johnny, emerging into camp with head held high.

And not long behind him —

A sea of cats floods the camp, tearful reunions and cries for those not granted them, a swirling whirlwind of those once-lost. A swarm of ghosts, of the should-be-dead, bringing not sorrow but joy, alive and returned. New faces too, the unknown come to greet them with claws sheathed. It's too much, they blink their eyes as though to clear the phantoms that have burned themselves across their vision. And yet, and yet, they feel the hope too, so swept up, so caught in the storm. A laugh, breathless and shocked, claws its way from their open maw, disbelieving eyes crinkled with soft delight.

It's quick to sour, the shouting, the panic, the cries for those still-missing, the dead who remain that way — and yet, and yet, and yet, for once Termitepaw has eyes for the bright, the silver lining. One dead, two missing, the grief bears claws and yet it is so far fewer than they had feared.

Ashenclaw, Ashenclaw is the first ghost they follow, second-missing mentor returned with a smile as he bounds towards his mate, Ashenclaw-and-Orangeblossom as they should be, ready to meet the kittens soon to be brought into the world, and so nearly are Termitepaw's feet pulled towards them, if not for her sight catching on another.

Recent-missing newly-warrior Bananasplash, far from the commotion, curled in on herself and bearing none of the warmth that it knows her for. The twolegs took something still, if not her life. Termitepaw creeps towards with little fanfare; no dramatic reunion for Bananasplash, but a quiet and mournful solitude. A mirror of an event not long ago, terror-fleeing paws finding shelter among the forest, followed close by the warrior they now approach.

Quietly, Termitepaw comes to rest beside her friend. "Nana," a nickname; comfort, familiarity. Belonging. "S'alri-ight." Stutter-soft words, muted and concerned, watchful eyes peering at Bananasplash. They're not used to being on the other side of this. "'M here," They lift a front paw, pull it around her shoulder. Just as she had for them. "Di-id some-thing... happen...?" They know not what the twolegs took, what's brought a sheen to their friend's eyes. Still, whatever it may be, she's still here. That is enough for Termitepaw.


❝ THERE'S GONNA BE ANOTHER DAY ! ❞ ₊°✩

  • // interacting with @Bananasplash
  • TERMITEPAW named for their dark and shiny fur.
    — she/her, they/them, or it/its. 12 moons.
    — skyclan apprentice, mentored by ashenclaw.
    — cowardly and superstitious, quiet and kind.

    primary character, medium-high activity. penned by saturnid.​
  • termitepaw.png
 
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જ➶ The way back to wherever they were going has him hesitating often enough. Often he sees himself falling behind the large group of rescued and clan cats as he tries to pick himself up. Tries to fill himself with courage that he surely doesn't feel and surely has never had to use before. Where they are going is a different world and he swallows as they get to the forest, remembering what Sharpeye said to him. This is their border and he parts his jaws picking up their scent, such a strange and powerful odor. Yet with Skyclanners in tow it is of little consequence for them to cross straight into the forest
all the while he is watching that tom. Trying to figure out the best time to approach and the frail youth puzzles over how he will even say what he needs to. But soon the time to think pauses and his eyes widen as they emerge into their camp. He has never seen so many cats together and freely. They seem so ecstatic to have their own with them and he steps off to the side, pulling his muzzle taunt to keep the look of pain from it.

Seems all that walking did a number on him. Yet the sudden shrill cry of another Skyclanner speaks of the one that did not make it. Surely someone very close to them and he bows his head for a moment. He...feels sorry for the situation. Feels bad and he hopes with time she and others can heal from that pain. Though he feels eyes looking at him and he turns slightly to see the tom looking at him before he goes to another clan cat, a molly, and he presses his nose to her neck. The gesture makes him pause and an odd sense of anger swells in his gut. Why though? It makes sense that his life moves on right? Turning his head away he sits down, aching joints making him tired. Maybe he should focus on what happens to them now. What does happen?
 

.°☀ I'll believe it all


There was the half expectation of Orangeblossom to join her or maybe even Quillstrike so that they could have this 'talk' that he wanted. Though neither of those cats seemed to approach her and she welcomed it for a moment, she just needed a time to herself. Some space to breathe and deal with the notions that laid out before her. She was no longer the daylight warrior she had been since the start of her time in Skyclan. Then who was she?

Her turmoil of thoughts where interrupted by her name, her nickname, and she lifted her head from her paws to see a familiar black and white face. Termitepaw. Bananasplash looked at her for a long time, a few heart beats, trying to decide how to tell her she was left behind. Her twolegs didn't want them anymore, and that she was having a crisis of whom she was going to become.

The pale tabby cat then blinked a few times, tears welling in deep green eyes, before Banansplash moved quickly. She burrowed her face into Termitepaws' shoulder with a loud sniffle as the weight of everything came crashing down and she felt herself start to cry. This time she had a reason to cry at least and it wasn't just because she was an emotional mess of a person.

"M-My tw-two-le-legs," Bananasplash all but sobbed into Termitepaws' fur and her tail curled around herself, "Th-They lef-left-u-uus," She couldn't catch a breathe in-between her tears falling down her cheeks.

"SPEECH"


There's nothing I won't understand .°☀

  • BANANASPLASH named by her mother Alice and for her spirit and confidence
    — she/they, 14 moons, crushing on Quillstrike, Pigeonsong and Chrysalis
    — skyclan warrior, mentored by Sharpeye.
    — quick witted, sweetheart with a bleeding heart, optimistic

    primary character, high activity. penned by wolf_.​
  • banana.png
 

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FIGFEATHER

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
As she descends into her grief a gentle nudge against her face is felt, she breathes in his familiar scent and instantly knows. Snowpaw! ”You’re back…” The purr comes out hoarsely, and for a moment grief breaks way and pure relief flashes in her eyes. It’s difficult not to let the death of her mother overshadow the relief she was back with her other kin, her brother and sister stood here before her, safe.

Greeneyes finds them too, the ginger and white Tom choked with grief. Butterflytuft’s pelt breaks through the crowd, the older she-cat is taking swift strides towards them, her face construed in immense sorrow. The conflicting emotions Figfeather feels tears her heart into two, uncontainable joy is felt for the safe reunion of her siblings, but the absence of the most important cat in all their lives was deafening.

Figfeather tries to lick the forehead of Butterflytuft and leans softly into Snowpaw, she yearns for Violetnose as she casts Greeneyes a sorrowful look. ”I’m so glad you’re both safe.” She can’t raise her voice higher than a whisper, and despite it all, she smiles.

//interacting with @Snowpaw @butterflytuft @GREENEYES
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When the SkyClan cats had let her out of her cage, when she had been instructed to come with them, she had obliged. Where else was she supposed to go? Her twolegs hadn't come to get her and she didn't know the way back to her home by herself. She had wandered farther than she ever had when she had left in search of Figpaw, had no one to help guide her back when the orange she cat had turned her away, had denied her friendship. It had nearly broke her heart, to see those claws that would be threatened against her. She had been foolish enough to dream of a life together, to think maybe she could join SkyClan and be with her.

Still, she feels a tug of her heart when orange eyes fall upon the striped she cat. She is embracing her siblings, crying, mourning her mother. The she cat in the cage next to her. She only got to interact with her briefly but she could see her friend in those fierce eyes. They shared the same spirit, the very one Fanta admired and was jealous of all the same. She's even jealous now as she watches her embrace her brother, her sister. She had never really known her family, only her twolegs. Her heart skips a beat as she hesitantly steps forward, towards the small group. "Figpaw?" she asks, voice nearly breaking. Would she turn away and leave her again? She's not sure if she could handle it if she did. She wants to go to her, to comfort her, despite what she had said before she had disappeared she still cared for her. She didn't want to see her hurting like this...

// @FIGFEATHER

 
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DARK BLUE, DARK BLUE, HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ALONE IN A CROWDED ROOM?


He was reluctant to let Twitchbolt go after having only just gotten him back, but he understood. There were other cats he wanted to talk to and check on too, and so he nodded and let them go, mismatched eyes lingering on their form until a voice caught his attention.

"Starchild."

Quill had not returned as the same cat who'd left. He'd spent weeks locked in a small metal box, alone, forced to watch as his clanmates were brought in- sometimes one-by-one, and othertimes in whole groups.

He'd watched them carry Daisyflight into that room and had spent every day wondering who would be next; Banansplash? Buterflytuft? Twitchbolt? It had snapped an otherwise blurry and unfocused world into perspective for Quillstrike, and he could see now with startling clarity what was important to him.

And he wasn't going to let it scare him.

"Deersong." he greeted her back, lips tugging into a faint but genuine smile as he did what she couldn't and pulled her into an embrace. She'd been one of the first cats to not look at him like he was some monster of a kid who wasn't worth the effort, and he'd never told her how much he'd needed that back then. She was the first adult that made him feel like he could trust her whole-heartedly, and that hadn't changed a bit in the time between then and now, even if he hadn't seen all that much of her in the weeks leading up to his abduction.

"You look good." he noted as he pulled back, not afraid to address the obvious. The last time he'd seen her she'd been holed up in the nursery looking worse for wear, but she looked like she'd been eating a little more and getting more sun, her fur better groomed and her eyes a bit clearer.

With Thistlebacks arrival, it started sinking in more that he was actually home. A part of him was still riding the adreniline high, was still waiting for things to go horribly wrong and it probably showed in the stiffness of his muscles and the steady, hawklike gaze he kept on their surroundings- not quite paranoia, but he hadn't quite switched out of fight or flight mode yet.

Oddly enough, instead of causing him farther tension, the touch to his ear had the opposite effect, letting reality sink in a bit farther. "Missed you too, old man." he said, fondness mixed into his usual flatness. " What have I missed out on here- aside from the obvious."

He already knew about the missing cat shit, but he craved normalcy and the familiarity of his old life. What had been missed since he'd been taken?


skyclan - male - 14 months (Feb 17th) - bisexual - homoromantic - single - a very tall, dark chimera tomcat with mismatched eyes and several scars. has bluejay feathers woven like spikes along his spine and neck.

QUILLSTRIKE-1.png
 
( ) Emotion would wash over her as Quillstrike spoke her name, embracing her and she clung to him tightly, as if letting him go would cause him to disappear again. He pulls away though, and she takes a moment to look him over for injuries or new scars when his words touch her ears.

They flatten at first, the familiar shame clawing through her before she mentally shoves it down and offers her friend a tiny smile of her own, "I feel good. You being home means I'm whole again." She would hear her mate's voice then, whipping her head around and almost letting out a whimper of relief as Thistleback presses his nose into her neck before she can stop herself, she moves to wrap her legs around the two males and pulls them to her in what was an attempted group embrace.

They were home now, they were safe. Her heart still broke for Daisyflight, that Snowpaw and the others had lost their mother, but for a moment she allowed herself to be selfish. She allowed herself to be so grateful that her own family was whole once again. Whole and safe, and it helped to chase away what little darkness was still writhing around in her mind, even if only for the day.

She would hold them both for a few heartbeats before pulling back and meowing softly, "We can give you the skinny later, Starchild. Right now let's just get you back to the groove of things and some food in your bellies." Deersong would look back over to Twitchbolt so that Quillstrike knew she included the brown tom in her statement, "You were talking about squirrels right? Why don't I go and catch you toms a fresh one?"

//
Interacting with @QUILLSTRIKE & @ThistleBack

( LET YOU BREAK; MY HEART AGAIN )
 

It was a long walk back to the pine forest, and Wobbledog has almost forgotten what grass and dirt felt like. Forgotten what fresh air was like. The sky, trees, flowers, everything.

He was in a daze the entire trip back, mind swimming in the scents and visuals he had forgotten. He dwelled on every one, savoring it. He took them for granted before.... Never again.

These cats didn't have to save them... But they stayed, saving other cats not their own. He owed them his life, practically.

The camp was overwhelming with noise, and he watched tearful reunions happen with a small smile. He did have anyone to run to like that anymore. All he had was himself, and he had accepted this a long time ago.

His smile faded at hearing the family of the cat who was taken cry out. He could feel their pain from where he sat, and though he wanted to offer some kind of comfort, he didn't know what to say. Nor was it his place to do so.

So he sat in silence, tail wrapped around his paws as he watched everything happen around him.
 

He'd entered the night queasy, stricken with the most daunting of willies, what with how dangerous their little clandestine mission was going to be. But, in little time at all, the thin stream of freed SkyClan cats had matured into a tidal wave of friendly and unfamiliar faces alike, and Shrimpy Boy could hardly conceive a more triumphant outcome for the rescue attempt. Snowpaw, Ashenclaw, Quillstrike, Twitchbolt, even Slate, all relieved of their cramped prisons and now homebound—and Howlpaw, she was still alive and kicking! Not to mention the sheer number of loners they'd liberated, too. Those guys only sweetened the deal further.

The edged shriek-swing of cage doors would echo in his head throughout the walk home, though the raw joy he felt from his team's success reigned dominant. They'd done it, they'd actually done it, and without letting a single daylight warrior get captured as it all unfolded.

Upon their long-awaited return to SkyClan's camp, the hollow awakens with a euphoric energy in a matter of mere moments. Revelry fills the air as clanmates reconnect with their loved ones just a hare's-hop in front of him. The unadulterated emotion worn in their eyes, and the tears they shed; the caring words they express, and the embrace they held one another in. Abruptly, he would avert his gaze, though it only falls upon a certain Blazestar reuniting with his thought-to-be-dead daughter.

It's too bittersweet. His vision gradually drops to the ground between his paws, and a small frown forms, as he fails to placate the incessant feeling that's been at the pit of his stomach for moons now. No one cared about him in that way, no one was waiting for him, and especially, no one would hug him like that. There was no one in his life who would look at him with such affection and longing, at least not anymore. The warm embrace of family, of belonging, seemed like an unattainable dream.

A flicker of movement in his peripheral would bring his gaze upwards once again, and he pivots to see one of the loners who had been freed from their bounds. Some seconds ago, he had put forward a question, and it had yet to be answered. "Yeah," he says to @SNAPPLE, and after a tail-flick and coaxed smile he continues, "this is SkyClan. The only clan that cares about folks like you and me." Folks who weren't born into the wild lands, that is. "Hope you enjoy your stay," he finishes with a respectful nod, and turns to face the bustling camp yet again.
 
I've been trying not to
He was sore from being carried such a distance, limbs stiff from remaining curled inward for so long. Yet the smell of fresh air and the feeling of soft grass mixed with brittle pine was a welcomed addition. Hordes of cats milled about as Las Plagas bumped against the leg of Toffee Mocha. Bicolored eyes tore away from tearful reunions and mournful news to focus on the tom speaking to him. "Okay." He didn't see any white coats out here, perhaps they were unaware of this place. Regardless, Plagas toddled along at Toffee's side, searching for anyone to take a strange anomaly like him in.
Go off the deep end
 
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☁ ✧ ° .. ° ✧ ☁

The trip from the shelter to the wild felt like sleepwalking to Bunny. The clanging cages and hurried whispers gave way to the relative quiet of the twolegs place, and then — alien and fantastical — the absolute silence of the forest. He was so confused by the sudden rescue and rushed departure that he didn’t think to question their destination, or to look around while they walked. He just followed along, barely noticing the change when the harsh grey stone of the streets became soft dirt under his paws.

As if waking from a dream, he realizes that they’ve stopped and he’s standing in the middle of a — camp, he thinks they called this place? It smells like green things and cats, dozens of them all in one place, living together, and like meat — fresh, nothing like the pellets or wet slop they were given at the shelter. It makes his mouth water even as he blinks owlishly at his surroundings. The rosy light of dawn casts the agitation in a warm, whimsical light, highlighting the joy of reunion and softening the pain when one of their rescuers mention another cat — one who didn’t make it back with the rest of them.

Bunny remembers her, vaguely, or rather the upwalkers taking her away and never bringing her back. Maybe someone came to adopt her? She might be fine, he wants to tell them, even though he has no idea what happens behind these cold, closed doors. A little hope can go a long way, he’s found.

It’s all a little scary, truth be told, but his empty belly and @ivy ‘s reassuringly grouchy presence at his side keep him in place for now. The clan cats saved them, after all; it wouldn’t be very polite to give them the slip immediately, right? And this is nice, anyway. It’s definitely different from the alleyways he’s used to.

Glancing away from the reunited cats, who he feels like he’s intruding on by watching them, he leans close to @Wobbledog and whispers, ”Hell of a place, huh?”
. ° ✧ ☼
 
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Has she ever been so exhausted in her life? Tallulahwing's gait is slow and pained as she follows Johnny. Her shoulder joints are stiff from overexertion, and her front paws are throbbing and thick, raw from the sharp metal of those cage latches. She knows she'll sink into her housefolk's soft cushioned nest and sleep for maybe the rest of this moon, and she can't wait to trudge back home.

The camp explodes into commotion almost immediately. Tallulahwing is grateful it's Johnny who has to report, both the good and the bad. Bittersweet. So many cats' kin and friends have returned to them, but Daisyflight's death and the cats who remain missing weigh heavy on their collective shoulders.

Tallulahwing sees Figfeather, huddled tight with her remaining family. She approaches her former apprentice and lays her feathery tail lightly on the tabby's flank. "I'm so sorry, honey," she says, her voice softer than it ever has been when talking to Figfeather. "I'm sure she fought those foxhearts every step of the way. And I know she's proud of you--" Her eyes glow with sorrow, and she turns them around on Figfeather's siblings, "--all of you." She presses her nose to Snowpaw's shoulder fur. "Hang in there, mister," she murmurs before she leaves Daisyflight's children to grieve in peace.

She can see some of the shelter cats looking stunned by their new environment. Some are afraid, their fear scent sharp in her nostrils. Others are wary, some amazed. Tallulahwing spots Shrimpy Boy's ginger pelt among the crowd and pads over to him. "Are you as tired as I am, darlin'? I could sleep for the rest of the season, I reckon." With a friendly nudge, she settles beside him.

One of the shelter cats he's talking to wonders aloud -- "So this is SkyClan, huh?" Tallulahwing turns her tired smile on them. Once, she'd felt similarly, padding into camp after Huckleberry. This place is home to her now, a second home -- but a home nonetheless. "What do you think so far? Beats your last quarters, doesn't it?" She tries to catch the young she-cat she'd freed first's eye, then turns her attention to a white-chested tabby. "Hell of a place," they say to their dark-furred companion. "Isn't it, though? You'll all fit right in." Her words are interrupted by a splitting yawn. Oh, she's really feeling the wear and tear now.

//talking to / attempting to engage [in order]: @FIGFEATHER @Snowpaw @SHRIMPY BOY @HAWK. @SNAPPLE @Bunny @ivy


[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
The white she-cat who carries him doesn't do so gently. Every step she takes causes him to swing from her jaws, and his complaints are shrill and sharp mews! "Where's 'Torias! I don't want you! I want him! Put me down!" The scenery that flashes by is overwhelming. Green, brown, the faint gold burning at the horizon as the sun comes up. The scents of the forest are dazzling but he sneezes every few minutes. The pollen, activated by newleaf, infiltrates his nostrils.

It becomes noisy again, but in a different way from the old place. There is nothing over their heads here. Their voices go up, up, up to the sky, just like they used to when they had their mother. Doomguy looks owlishly around, distracted by the sheer number of cats. He's never seen so many. Too many, too loud, too colorful. He bares his teeth at any unfortunate soul who wanders too close to him, and his hisses -- although non-threatening -- are laced with spittle.

His white-furred messenger drops him next to his brother, and he lets out a fierce mrow of glee. "There you are!" He launches himself at Artorias, attempting to deliver a sharp bite to one of his ears. "Where we at?" He'll ask whether he's successful in gnawing on flesh or not.

// interacting with (in order): @angelina @Artorias Abysswalker

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
Oh, what a haul. Even he cannot remain idle; stone-faced and unimpressed as the patrol returns, SkyClanners in tow, along with, seemingly droves of strangers. A success, or a critical failure? It remains to be seen, still. Dawnglare is a creeping willow on the edge of it all, prowling with sky eyes narrowed, picking apart scents. Hanging off them all was an unsettling air of nothingness. Not the smell of ozone, lingering smog or pine that would sink into any warm pelt regardless of origin. So pungently nothing that it nearly burned his nostrils; sent his eyes into slits.

But at the same time, he can tell they did not all hail from the same place. Underlying, barely there, but he could feel it in every word and motion. The twitch of rogue - worn ears, underlying warmth and food - scent; kittypet. Not a bad thing, no, hardly not. It's a thing he regards with curiosity, eyes suddenly blowing moon - wide. His gait through and past the gathered cats is a delicate waltz. Slithering past, only to slow to a crawl when eyes meet something of interest. These few had worth to be determined, he realizes; far cry from despair from birth most clan cats wore.

Figfeather, despite that time once spent together, is a product of what she is. She screeches her dull questions, the answer to which, Dawnglare turns an eye upon in curiosity. The killer opens his maw.

Well, bringers of both hope and despair. Dawnglare is straight - faced for a moment, this little thing seeming too good to be true. The few who care are hardly left time to mourn, their silence sliced through by kittish cries and other mouthed - nothings, but Dawnglare hears it all. The upward curl of his lip is slight, there for a second before its dissolved into pursed lips and bored eyes. One pair of wretched eyes gone from his life. Not all, but one... Her fate had been foretold in the earth for as long as he'd known her.

His smile is a more wholehearted one, at the sight of Howlpaw, wide-eyed and showing teeth. He had never truly believed she was dead. Not really, never truly. Nevermind the tension that eases somewhere. Somewhere... " You know, " he says it to no one in particular. No, he wouldn't dare drag himself too close to the leader. That one... Not intentionally, anyways. But its something he's remarked to himself, and only now, feels the need to say. Almost wistfully, " That leg on the wild one was never infected... " He finishes the thought with a hum before slinking away, only a curious glance cast to his apprentice's toppled form in passing.
 
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Fireflypaw's ears swivel and twitch at the sound of wailing, the news of Daisyflight making his heart twist for his friends. Greeneyes is talking to his siblings, comforting them- Fireflypaw's gut twists thinking about what could have happened to her. His head shifts then, bobbing sideways; murmuring a soft prayer to the grass below. Paw smoothing over blades of grass, whispers of hymn. Soon interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

Fi? His ears perk then. Am I just imagining.. But no, Howlpaw slams into him and Fireflypaw has to hold back the wail of happiness that threatens to leave his lips. "Howie!" He shrieks, paws wrapping around his sister's neck to pull her in tightly. He can't see her, but oh.. He can smell her, the mixed scent of pine and twoleg stench. His shoulders quake as he finally lets himself drop, the weight of his father against them soothing the sobs that leave him. "You're okay- Oh, Stars, you're okay-" He wheezes, moving just enough to allow their father grasp on Howlpaw. He pulls her close, shaking- his father is shaking. "I-I knew it.. I knew it.. She's safe, dad. She's home." He hiccups, his other half now beside him once again. Had Morningpaw led them home, reassured them that everything would be okay?

A sniff or two, and Fireflypaw rises to stand with his family. Scarred eyes flutter, shoulders shaking as he listens to the words being exchanged by his clanmates. Strangers are present, smelling more heavily of twolegs than their forest-dwelling counterparts. He nudges his sister softly, face brushing so lovingly against his little sister's cheek and nose. He wants to spend this time with only Howlpaw, but he has duties- knows that he must check cats for any wounds. Dawnglare's voice chimes up, he can hear the happiness in his tone. He was happy Howlpaw was back, too, but wouldn't dare come close to his father in fear of his wrath. Fireflypaw gives his sister and father one last nuzzle, one last "Welcome back," before he moves to join Dawnglare's side.

"Is there any wounded?" He asks through his sniffles, trying to scent the air for the smell of blood. But none comes, and Fireflypaw only smells the newcomers instead. Lifting his head, he smiles to the growing group. "Welcome to SkyClan, everyone!" He has no power to accept them all himself, but he does crave more people to talk to. It would be wisest if they let the cats join them, else they join elsewhere- if they even could. They didn't need more Rogues. "I'm Fireflypaw! You'll all be seein' me and Dawnglare here often. If you have any wounds, feel free to come to us. Otherwise, settle down and rest after your journey. We have.. We have fresh-kill, and water is just over there-" He tries his best to get everyone situated, though it's ultimately up to them. His head swivels once more, towards the direction of his sister- a smile, big and excited. They'll be okay. They'll be okay. His sister was home, he was complete again.

"May the Stars guide you all,"
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 9 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS
 
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