duskclan DRAG THE LAKE ✧ "ceremonies"

[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepelt slinks from brushland foliage and onto a grassy knoll. He looks upon what remains of his Clan, his followers, with slender green eyes that shift with forested shadows. “Cats of DuskClan,” he crows, lifting his white-lined face to the sliver of the moon hanging precariously in the sky. “Today, we have a kit who is ready to become apprenticed. Privetkit, step forward.” Berrysnap’s kit—one of the ones who remain—is precocious and clever, and he intends to ensure continued loyalty to their cause.

“From this day forward, you will be known as Privetpaw.” He lifts his gaze until it lands on an ebony-masked warrior. “Rumblerain, you will mentor Privetpaw until he is ready to become a warrior of DuskClan.” He curls his tail around slate-colored paws, straightening his spine. Privetpaw is proof that DuskClan will thrive, and will continue to bring fire and blood to the Clans that plagued them.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 21 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[PRIVETFROST]

Fortune favored Privetkit tonight. Bright and pensive moon smiled at him, with its wry and unfaltering grin that streaked along the starlit sky. His leader stood just below the white, as though he were Atlas carrying the world upon bare-boned shoulder, an impossibly large figure brought to reality. Shadows culminated and yet, faulted where the light dwelled. The little boy, as dark as the mares that marred the celestial body that hung above, waited in palpable anticipation, feeling it prick at his skin and lapse on his tongue. It felt like thorns between the purls of his pelt, as anxiety ate at him like he were infested with fleas. If he was worthy of this ceremony, then he must do his best to impress Duskclan. He was their star, after all. As Granitepelt called him forth, his nervousness stood upon cusps of hummingbird heart, threatening to drum awry and astray from its rhythm. He looked for his mother, who had surely been present in the crowd, but there was little time to scope her out before Granite spoke once more.

Privetpaw. His new name lie pensive, like a stone rattling against the walls of a rolling gut, unable to be choked out with rasps and coughs. It would not be uttered in hapless hacks nor crowing croaks. It would be invoked in pride, in glory, in prosperity for Duskclan and Duskclan alone. If his name must be expressed in fear and vengeance from his enemies, then he would welcome such. The newly-crowned apprentice bowed his head, and though the tom's expression seemed idle at best and lackadaisical at worst, he was truly happy at this development. Little paws shuffled over to his new mentor Rumblerain, as he stared upwards with fern-green gaze as bright as the grimacing moonlight. He said nothing, only eyed the ebony-masked cat as if to convey that he was ready now.

𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 ── X ── 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

• OOC:
  
• 
• 

  —— PRIVETPAW / He/Him / 4 Moons
  —— Apprentice of Duskclan / Mentored by Rumblerain
  —— Wine-dark and white-tipped, almost like a magpie. He has black fur except for the tips of his ears, his muzzle and chin, a blaze on his chest, bottom portion of the legs, outer end of the tail, and along the upper ridges of eyes. He has ghost striping that can only be seen in certain sunlight. He has fern-green eyes.
  —— Cool, calculating, and much too mature for such a young age. Enamored with the life of a warrior and burdened by the expectations of his people. Hard to befriend and harder to maintain a steady friendship with.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

He is pleased by Privetpaw’s quiet confidence, the steady gait he uses to approach his new mentor. Granitepelt waits for the pair to touch noses before continuing, pinning Rumblerain down with his dark green gaze. “There is more I wish to say to you all. DuskClan must be strong enough to withstand violence from the other Clans.” He rises to his paws, his tail flicking out like a silvery stream behind him. “I need a sturdy, reliable right paw. Rumblerain, you will serve as DuskClan’s deputy. You will respect their authority. Rumblerain, as DuskClan’s new deputy, you will be responsible for recruiting more DuskClanners.”

A smile creases his muzzle—it does not reach his eyes. “We must swell our ranks if we are to take WindClan on. From now on, I want everyone to look for potential recruits. From the smallest kit to the most seasoned rogue, anyone has the potential to make our Clan great.” He gives a pointed look to the warriors in attendance—and makes his stance on kit-stealing simultaneously very clear. “Rumblerain, you will take Privetpaw to Twolegplace as your first mission as deputy. Be careful, and take your time. We will need every helping paw we can get.”

Green fire snaps to the other cats in attendance. “The rest of you—continue patrolling WindClan’s border, but be careful. Seek loners and rogues in our territory. Creep towards Horseplace, if you must. I want to see some new faces peering back at me from this hill before the next moon.” He dips his head, waiting for his Clan’s feedback—and for Rumblerain’s response.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: congrats to wren and @RUMBLERAIN :3
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 21 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[hollowcreek]

( ✧ ) Granitepelt's call pulled the hulking tabby forward with a tired gait. The springtime sun warmed his back in a way that made an afternoon nap roll in easy. If it weren't for the burst of new prey abound he would have deprived himself of such leisure, and clearly the new season would be a bountiful moment for their new apprentice joining them out on their hunts.

Rumblerain would be a good mentor to Privetkit. They had a grand fortitude that carried them through the trials of WindClans turmoil, steadfast focus that would serve well to the kits teachings. Granitepelt went on to take on a deputy for himself as well, the very cat he gifted an apprentice and Hollowcreek felt the features of his maw crease in a pleased smile.

"Privetpaw, Rumblerain!" He cheered for his fellow rogues and nodded his head in understanding to the leaders order. Search for prospective recruits, rebuild their numbers. Perhaps it would be useful for him to seek out some new friends.
​

( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )

 

[Ebonylight.]

*+:｡.｡ This was a joke. A parody of a once great time when Sootstar stood upon a real tall rock in a real camp with an actual, living breathing army. Now, he feels like the carrion scraps not even the crows would pick at, left to rot among the rest. It would've been tragic if it wasn't also incredibly amusing. He watched the event unfold - a fake leader leading a fake ceremony - but in Privetkit's eyes, it couldn't be more real. The permanent grin on his maw widened as he watched the ebony apprentice step forth. Seeing the tyke holding his head up with so much self-worth is adorable. The anxiety radiating from him is palpable; his eagerness to please the band of forsaken warriors is as easy to read as the green in his eyes. This boy, the first generation of Duskclan, thinks he can save this sorry excuse for a clan?
Shifting his unusual eyes, he observes the gathered crowd. All cats clinging to the life they'd once had, too frightened - or more likely too spiteful to disband and relinquish what minuscule grip they have on the moorland. Ebonylight, of course, can't judge. He's here too, isn't he? Kneading his paws on the plush dirt and ticklish grass, beneath the clear sky shining with uninterrupted moonlight, he knows he'd rather die out here than back at twolegplace.

But hey, maybe Granitepelt knows something Ebonylight doesn't? The man speaks with so much confidence that the only true problem Duskclan faces is a lack of numbers- a problem that can be easily rectified. Ebby supposed he wasn't wrong at the end of the day, and it wouldn't hurt to lean into that delusion. It would give the marble-clad warrior something to do, at least. Flexing his claws into the soil, his grin widens a little more, snake-like eyes shifting towards the lands in the general direction of the horse place. If Windclan managed to find their winning numbers there, then perhaps Duskclan would, too?

"Privetpaw! Rumblerain!" Ebonylight would call, joyful for Duskclan's new era.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 1/2/24

• 
  
• 
  
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ‡ Ebonylight
  ‡ DFAB— He/They/She — Pansexual
  ‡ 17 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ‡ Windclan — Moor-runner (Loyalist)
  ‡ Mates with Nightingalecry, father to Frightkit, Deathkit and Witherkit
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ‡ Physically hard | mentally hard
  ‡ Attack in bold black
  
  injuries: None currently
  ‡ recovering from pregnancy

​

 

[RUMBLERAIN]

Today holds an exciting first for DuskClan: Privetkit was becoming an apprentice. The start of a new era, the training of a new generation ready to begin ... Rumblerain sits in on the meeting eagerly, comfortable next to Hollowcreek as the little tom is called forward. They're surprised to hear their own name follow suit, stepping forward automatically; a mentor now in their own right. Their surprise, their nerves, isn't quelled any by Privetpaw's curious and expectant eyes.

"You touch noses with your new mentor to say hello." They explain to their new apprentice, whiskers twitching in a friendly way but otherwise trembling nervously, before they lean forward. Once pulled away, they gesture for him to sit at their side, but the fur at the back of their neck stands on end as Granitepelt's gaze continues to linger on them. What? Did they do something wrong?

No- it's something right, they realise as the word deputy slips from Granitepelt's maw. Them? Deputy? Is he sure? Dark ears twitch backwards as they incline their head. Is it a nod, or is their neck bowing under the weight of their new position? It's hard to tell, but a quizzical expression crosses pointed maw as Granitepelt immediately assigns them on a trek to Twolegplace. They know, vaguely, where it sits: all the way past SkyClan. The only way they know how to get there is past borders, sneaking past the river. They'd have to travel in the middle of the nights, where no Clan cat would find them ... Rumblerain exhales a breath. Hopefully they'd return with new DuskClanners in tow.

"Understood. We'll leave in the morning."

​