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

There is chaos around them, and Avilius fades to the epicenter of it. An eye in the storm, he is unmoving. The others converse, adjust– he waits. The broad feline seems oddly small where he is crouched, dark eyes unblinking on the mass of them. Where there had once been an easy confidence to his motions is now a tension that refuses to unwind. They had followed them to freedom; he had not intended any more. Had Sarsaparilla not tethered him to this place, he would have left. He would never have came. At this moment in time, Avilius cannot tell if that is a blessing or a curse. He would have died in that cage; the only root he has left in this world would have died alongside him. It would have been his fault. Maybe it is for the best that he did not make the decisions here.

Though he memorizes each name that is offered or shouted, the former shelter cat does not offer his own. Instead he crouches silently at some distance from the group with unease coiled to each limb. For now, his pelt is pressed hard to the freckled cream of Sarsaparilla's, though he expects the other to do as he does best, making himself useful. Approaching. It is not what he's here for. That he's alive at all is thanks to them, and even still...he cannot make friends.
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˗ˏˋ《  OOC 05.11.2023 》´ˎ˗
  • ooc: —
  • avilius ╱╱ he - him. warrior of skyclan.
    ──── a stoic, cold former loner / rogue with a storied past. very protective of sarsaparilla.
    ──── high endurance, high strength build. not built for speed, but able to tank anything.
    ──── former shelter cat, still adjusting to clan life. has difficulty speaking nicely to others.

    a sturdily built brown tabby with fur that tinges towards golden in thick, dense curls. though often messy, he carries himself with composure and certainty– it is obvious that this tom is accustomed to battle, and will not hesitate to put his skill to the test if need be.
  • "speech"
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Their grief is sharp and stinging. Sarsaparilla knows next to nothing of the cat they mourn, but they must have loved her dearly if a stranger like him feels her absence so strongly. He's never been very good at this sort of thing— empathy is a well kept separately from praxis, and he struggles to draw from both simultaneously. Someone else might apologize for their loss in such a way that does not seem overdone, or touch their shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. He doesn't have that graceful charisma. There's no social gliding in his future, but he wishes he could be someone else for them in their sorrow.

He swallows, Avi's heartbeat a distant thud through their pressed sides. If Sass is somewhat socially awkward, then Avilius is egregiously wooden. Knowing why doesn't make it easier to treat in this case. "I don't want to be the one to rain on the stormcloud over your head, but it's generally polite to thank the people who saved you." He stands up, looking down at him with a cocked head. "How about it? I'll even do most of the talking."

.ೃ࿐ OOC INFORMATION
  • —
  • sarsaparilla (sass) °●° cisgender male, he/him °●° skyclan warrior
    around 46 moons old °●° profoundly, catastrophically homosexual
    former kittypet and loner °●° head over ass over heels for avilius

    sass does not make for a very striking figure. he's rather plain in appearance, a cream and white tabby with clear, gray-blue eyes and freckled cheeks. he's taller than average, but doesn't tower, and lacks the muscle mass to be considered broad. he fades easily into the background and prefers it that way.

​
 
they're home. he stumbles through the throng of cats returning home, scenting pelts of cats they haven't seen in days or even weeks ... he's looking for two in particular.

there's his sister's mate — he watches her bowl ashenclaw over, and blueberry's eyes shine in a teary smile — they're home — but what about his littermates?

he searches, searches, searches. brilliant blue eyes eyes flick over the crowd of cats, some returning and some greeting their loved ones, so many looking ... so different. smelling so different. what happened to them? what did those twolegs do to them?

what did they do to his siblings?

there's nothing chipper in him. he's got no energy to be positive. he's just tired, and he misses his littermates. finally he spots them — and as orangeblossom had guessed he makes a beeline, rushing toward the familiar coats. "cloud," he calls, voice hoarse, "nana!"

they're home.

... something's wrong. he can tell before he even gets close.

// i definitely didn't read everything lol, if i got any details wrong lmk <33
searching for @CLOUDBERRYTHORN and @Bananasplash ​
 
The journey has exhausted Mouser, and he hovers now with a posture that is hunched and small amidst the other cats. His eyes are half-lidded, his mangled tail lies low and limp across the ground as he sits in rest. Between a bad leg and a bad eye, it must have taken him twice as long to follow these clan cats. It would have been best for him to stay, he decided that halfway along, but– freedom had a sweet taste that addicted all who knew it. And at the same time he had realized he should have stayed in that cage, Mouser came to the conclusion that he did not want to. He would die soon, and it would be a well-earned death. Finally, he would rest. But when he goes...well, could any cat fault him for wanting to go beneath the stars?

Here in this SkyClan, where the scents are overwhelming and the chattering of cats echoes violently between his ears, Mouser has never felt more free. He looks for a cat not consumed by conversation, someone who knew this territory as it is, not tainted by their time in a cage, and asks in a voice that rasps: "It took more out of me than I thought, coming here. Is there a place that I can rest as this is sorted out?"
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˗ˏˋ《  OOC 05.06.2023 》´ˎ˗
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    ooc: —
  • mm_trim_fix.png
    ──── monsieur mouser, casually known as mouser.
    ──── elderly shelter cat. dmab male, and neutered.
    ancient as he is, life alone is a miracle for mouser. but when one takes in the extent of his scars, it becomes even more so. his dark, silvery-tinged fur is broken up by heavy scarring along his back leg and tail, with one bright yellow eye turned glossy with blindness.
  • "speech"
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Blazestar's tunnel vision widens. He begins to realize the sheer amount of non-SkyClan cats who have followed those rescued back home, and he gives his thick pelt a vigorous shake. There will be time to mourn Daisyflight -- and to celebrate Howlpaw's return -- but now, he must take some kind of action. "Newcomers," he yowls, slicing through the idle conversations with what little power he feels he holds right now. Though his eyes are still dull with fresh grief, Blazestar takes control with the volume and strength of his voice. "Welcome to SkyClan. This, as you must have figured out, is our camp."

An older tom's mutterings reach Blazestar's ears. He looks his way, nodding. "Of course, you must be tired. Hungry, too. Please. Our elder's den is over there, amidst the ferns." It's been some time since they've had an elder staying in their camp -- Earthsoul is frequently at his new housefolk's nest, after all.

He steadies himself. " @Fireflypaw , show him to the elder's den and bring him a piece of fresh-kill." He seeks other cats then, finally making a swift decision. " @Auburnflame , show the warrior-aged cats to our warriors' den. We may have some empty nests; if not, it will be time for the apprentices to make some. @TERMITEPAW , you will show the younger cats to the apprentice's den." He realizes he's covered most of his bases, except... two little scraps, mewling and demanding... Blazestar flicks his gaze to Orangeblossom. " @orangeblossom , ensure the kits are taken to the nursery, please."

There will be time for conversation, to get to know one another, but Blazestar must first make some decisions about these outsiders. It's hard to think clearly just now. His exuberance at Howlpaw being found alive, the crushing news of Daisyflight's death, the triumph of his daylight warriors' success -- it's too much for him to sort through at the moment. He will need time, he knows.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​
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It’s good, to be out in the world once again. Days, weeks, trapped in that cold metal cage… it was terrible. He’s grateful that he’s able to press his shoulder into his sister’s, to feel familiar pine needles beneath his paws. His chest aches, his paws itch with the urge to pull himself into the boughs of the nearest tree.

The walk back from the shelter is too long. He isn’t excited about being free, not anymore; their escape is marked with a sense of failure, of loneliness, that can’t be cured by simply returning to SkyClan. It’s his home, but it’s also markedly not home. His home—his first home and what he also thought would be his last home—is a home with his housefolk, warm in the winter and pleasantly cool in the summer. His people, who have loved him through the turning of the seasons and until the end of time itself. Except… maybe not. Their love, their care, turned out to be finite in the end. And isn’t he just a fool, for believing any different?

He’s spiraling, he knows. He can’t focus on one thing at a time, and certainly shouldn’t be focused on all that, when he should be concerned about his clan, about Daisyflight’s family. So he shakes his head, straightens his back, and attempts to look okay. Because he is—he’s okay. He’s back in his clan, with his littermates and his sister, and he didn’t die in the shelter.

He smiles as his littermate shouts his and Bananasplash’s names, tail flicking happily as he pushes himself forth to greet their brother. "Blueberry," he calls to his littermate, a rare grin settling onto his pale muzzle. He’s devastated, sure, but seeing his sibling again trumps even the worst emotions he may feel. "I missed you. I’m glad you’re safe."
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[ just a side character ]​
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⭒✧ The amalgam of pelts that wove between the pines was a source of endless fascination and frustration to Chalk. The sheer range of personalities, proficiencies and tones kept him on his toes- quite literally as he stumbled out the way of a snowy molly, kit swinging from her maw. He didn't know if it was best to hang back or try to catch the eye of those at the front, but soon enough it didn't matter. Fern walls clad a worn clearing, the nucleus of the paths they had been following.

The two sides meshed at once, calls for names and news shared loud through the clear air. Chalk was careful to skirt tumbling kits and mourning familes and tried instead to get a look at this 'Blazestar' the clancats had mentioned. Avoiding the lash of forlorn paws and tails, the cream tom wreathed the group before hearing the cut of orders made. Teal eyes slightly dull in their appraisal, the tom compared the mighty leader to the assumptions he had developed. He tucked the differences away for now, endeavouring to consider the matter more deeply later.

Delegations were offered to other pinecats, Chalk following each line of suggestion with a swivel of his head. Was he warrior aged, or apprentice aged? A whisker-dipped cheek twitched with irritation. This, Auburnflame, was closer. He'd try them first.

/ walking towards @Auburnflame ​
⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​
 

WENT FACE TO FACE WITH ALL OUR FEARS
LEARNED OUR LESSONS THROUGH THE TEARS​


Soma walked close to his brother the entire way to Skyclans camp, green eyes sharp and watchful of their surroundings, the gentle bristle of his fur a warning to anyone or any[/i]thing[/i] that might try and put a target on their back. The large youth was grateful to these cats for busting them out, but he didn't know them or the other shelter cats they'd escaped with, and he'd remain cautious until he knew otherwise.

"Keep close to me for now." he muttered to the younger cat as they slipped into camp alongside the others.

Soma had never seen anything like the skyclan camp, but to be fair he hadn't seen much. The streets, a half dozen twoleg homes, and the shelter made up the majority of his experience with the world, and this odd gathering of cats wasn't quite like anything he'd seen before.

He found a spot for him and Junco on the edge of the group, away from the main fuss of clanmates being reunited with each other. Eventually one cats voice rose up among the others, instructing cats to start leading them to wherever they were supposed to be. Soma had to admit that he wasn't getting bad vibes from these cats as far as first impressions went, but he still wasn't letting Junco out of his sight.

He'd made that mistake once before, and he wouldn't make the same mistake with his brother now.

@Junco
​
LONER - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - a large black and white tomcat with asymmetrical tuxedo markings and deep green eyes.
 

Maybe it was because of his mistrusting nature, but he stayed next to Rush's side despite his annoyance at the pale tom because he was the only familiar thing here. The crowd of cats were loud, voices rising up in a mix of emotions; some mourning, some relieved, some trembling in fear still. The shrill sound of kitten squealing made him flatten his ears as the little furballs were totted off to what he would presume would be a den with a mother to watch them or something, all he knew right now was he felt so uncomfortable in this nest of strangers pouring out their souls. The dark tom raised a paw, shuffled in place and winced suddenly as his leg stung and he raised it up to examine the clean cut on his foreleg he'd gotten from leaping out of that window in the chaos.
"...let's fine somewhere quiet. Figure this out later." Were they going to stay here? He wasn't sure yet, Wolf wasn't keen on the idea but he'd always been a loner at heart; suited his name fine in that regard. A lone wolf.
​
 

This was so exciting! Everything seemed so new after being in that dreadful place for so long, even if it wasnt as long as some of the other cats. It really made him appreciate his freedom, thats for sure. He was happy to follow everyone back to their home, he wanted to repay them for their kindness somehow. The energy was so thick he could almost grab it, he thought. Happy reunions, joy and sorrow. His heart ached for the family of Daisyflight. Even moreso when he watched Figfeather break down. Life was cruel... But what choice did they have but to move forward?

It was a lot to take in, and he couldn't blame Wolf for wanting to go somewhere quieter. He was always more of the loner sort. He blinked as Wolf winced suddenly, and looked down to see the cut on his leg.

"Oh, you're hurt..." It didn't seem bad, at least, but still. When had that happened?

There wasn't much he could do about it, anyways. All he knew how to do was keep it clean.

He offered Wolf a smile. "We can head somewhere quieter, yeah." He said. "Easier to think without so many voices talking all at once."


​
 
As expected, duty calls. Orangeblossom presses her nose sweetly to Ashenclaw's muzzle once again and takes a step away from him, raising her tail in a silent call to attention as Blazestar begins the sorting process. StarClan above, maybe it was a good thing she wasn't sleeping in the warriors' den anymore ... it would be crowded as all hell with the amount of young warriors SkyClan had freed tonight.

"Any pregnant cats and kittens under the age of four moons to me." She calls, voice (hopefully) ringing clear among the chatter. Quillstrike has already dropped a protesting scrap of fur nearby her, but from the way Blazestar is talking there are definitely more. Her theory is confirmed as a slight, green-eyed molly approaches warily with a little calico kitten clutched between her jaws - one who immediately frees himself and launches himself at the original protesting scrap. Orangeblossom closes her eyes briefly. So much for peace and quiet.

"Sorrel," she calls coaxingly to her adoptive daughter as she spies a chocolate-swirled coat among the holly leaves, "can you get Dizzymoth and Flowercloud to help you set up some more nests? You've got playmates from the look of it." ... Flea-ridden ones. Her nose wrinkles.

— info
  • @Sorrel !
  • orangeblossom.png
    orangeblossom. tags.
    — she/her, skyclan deputy.
    — mentor to eveningpaw.
    — attack in #e08550. uses trees as an integral part of her fighting style.
    — mean enough to note that her thoughts don't reflect my opinions as a writer haha.
    — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
    — art by merc!<3
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By the time they get to SkyClan's camp Ivy's sides are heaving with the exertion of it all, but though her paws are aching and exhaustion tugs at her like trailing vines the elder stubbornly keeps up with Bunny and Angelina (and ignores the fact they're slowing down for her and her lack of vision). She flexes her paws irritably with every other step, gritting her teeth against her complaining joints, and squints against the dim light to try and make out the blurry colours of the other shelter cats between the kaleidoscope of unfamiliar pelts. Around her, reunions ring out - yowls of relief as SkyClanners come home, and anguish as they realise that the Daisyflight molly would never be doing so.

Angelina breaks off from their little group, maybe reluctantly, to send the screeching kitten to his even louder brother. Ivy's sides shake with a barely suppressed laugh, rare and cynical. Leaning towards her tripod guide cat, Ivy mutters upwards to Bunny, "See anyone ya recognise?"

— info
  •  
  • ivy. tags.
    — she/her, shelter cat.
    — mostly blind due to cataracts.
    — attack in #32cd32.
    — mean old lady.
    — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
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—————————————————☁ ✧ ° . ☼ . ° ✧ ☁ —————————————————​

One of their guides, the one with the charming ribbon around her neck, answers Bunny’s comment: Isn't it, though? You'll all fit right in. He ducks his head, almost embarrassed that his awestruck whisper was caught by one of the clan cats. He must sound like an idiot to these wild cats who don’t even blink at the thought of pulling a heist on twolegs.

A large, pale cat follows. He’s not so poorly socialized that he can’t recognize a leader when he sees one, and he looks on curiously as the tom welcomes them and offers them nests to sleep in. As if they were already a part of his clan — or is he this welcoming to all the strange cats coming stumbling into his camp?

Instead of turning towards the cats pointed out as their guide, he leans back into Ivy’s touch, feeling her shake with silent laughter. He grins in response and presses his flank against hers, helping support her aching joints under the guise of friendly contact.

”I don’t recognize anyone,” he admits in the same tone, ”’scept your dour face, of course. What about you? Any familiar faces?”
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. ° ✧ ☼ ​
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MY LITTLE DOVE WHY DO YOU CRY
chiara | 14 months | female | she/her | physically extremely easy | mentally very hard | attack in bold #74a2a5
Why had she thought this a good idea? The molly is practically trembling from exhaustion and overwhelm - there are so many sights and sounds and scents in this forest, so very different to the streets of the twolegplace she once roamed. There are many faces too - both those who'd shared cages with her and complete strangers. The woman cannot help but question her choice even as her fluffy tail comes to curl around her belly protectively - she's only just begun showing, but even now she thinks she'd make the same choices again if only for the sake of her little ones. She has nobody and nothing left - all she can do is trust the words of the strange forest cats - of the one called slate and the one called... banana-? Strange names, she thinks, and hard to remember. She watches as friends and loved ones greet one another with smiling or tearful faces, watches as they're all shuffled off in different directions, but she cannot bring herself to move - frozen in place as she is. What is she to do now?

// open to interacts; currently just awkwardly standing at the edge of the returning group

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FIGFEATHER ♀​
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​
Figfeather watches as Tallulahwing walks away, half-wishing her mentor would stay but knows that the daylight warriors has duties to attend to. Even through her grief and relief that her siblings have returned the scent of newcomers swarmed her senes. That’s when she smelled it.

That’s when she saw her.

Figpaw?
”Fanta?!” Her eyes grow wide in alarm and confusion, despite their last encounter it was good to see her friend but- why was she here?! She looks around confused, had she ran into the patrol an helped release the trapped cats? Glancing awkwardly at her kin she steps away from them, cheeks still damp with tears and sniffles sounding from her nose. ”I’m- what are you doing here?”

//interacting w/ @Fanta !
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Cheddar felt wildly out of place as she followed the herd of cats. She tried to talk to a few as they meandered after the self-proclaimed SkyClan folk that led them into safety, but it was hard to keep conversation going. It didn't appear that not everyone's daily priorities were which flavored can would be opened for them at the end of the night. Or how bothersome it was to move napping spots each time the sun moved further to set. Or even the prime angle to rest on a windowsill.

But she was excited to see where this would all come to conclude. There were so many of them, it was surely a sight to see! A little army of cats bumbling along to a new home, even if just for now. Cheddar still expected to go back to their owners abode at some point. To reassure him they hadn't disappeared forever.

Johnny had called for a 'Blazestar', and in moments the cat was summoned. A joyful reunion between him and his kin! How sweet of an end.

"Blazestar!" The orange tabby echoed, their voice loud as they pushed their way through to gracefully bow before the tom. "I am honored thy soldiers did lend me their aid. Thee shouldst be proud of their bravery. I owe thee all mine own gratitude. Prithee, alloweth me to repay thee for thy troubles."​

KITTYPET ✦ WHITE SPOTTED ORANGE TABBY ✦ 30 MOONS ✦ TAGS​
 
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