EMERALD COAST WILL SET ME FREE — visitor

[Starlingheart]

If she had a choice she would not have chosen RiverClan as the first to grace with her request, but SkyClan was where Dawnglare resided and she wasn’t brave enough to face him yet, ThunderClan wasn’t likely to welcome her with open arms and WindClan, well, Vulturemask probably did not have much to add to her knowledge and if he did she was certain she would know it soon. Their alliance with the moor dwellers was useful in more ways than appeared on the surface, it seemed. That only left one option for the black and white she cat to go to. RiverClan. Process of elimination and nothing else is what guides her here today. Nothing else.

Sometimes she does find herself wondering how her aunt is doing, but just as quickly as the thought enters her head does she shake it away. She didn’t care about that traitor, not anymore.

The trip getting here has not been easy. Starlingheart had taken extra precautions to not trespass through anyone’s territories by cutting through four trees, stopping to send a silent prayer to her mother to keep her safe before continuing on through the small sliver of no mans land that led to River Clans territory.

Starlingheart had never seen a bridge before but that is what lays in her path now. A bridge to cross the gap that the river created and deliver her safely to the other side. She only goes halfway before stopping, placing her small bundle of herbs down on the ground in front of her. She hopes it is enough for them to agree to this plan of hers. Already she’s certain she’s in trouble with Pitchstar for coming here without saying anything to him. She knows how he would’ve been though. He would’ve insisted on sending an escort with her, maybe even on coming himself and she loves her clanmates truly she does but she knows that they are not the best when it comes to diplomacy. Besides, she was a medicine cat. A lone healer upon their borders was no threat but a gang of warriors was. It had to be this way. She just hopes her offer of herbs and teaching is enough.

She hopes this goes smoothly but more than that she hopes she does not have to see her former mentor.

Now all that is left is to wait.

// TLDR; Starlingheart is at the bridge on the border with a peace offering of herbs looking for @BEESONG but no need to wait for him to reply! She is looking to exchange knowledge and comes completely in peace (and also is 9 moons old!)

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[wolverinefang]

"TURNS OUT I'M PRETTY GOOD AT RUNNING MY MOUTH"​

"Long time no see, Starling." While not Bone herself, he supposes he's the second "best" thing.

Well this is bound to be awkward. Great. Wolverine despises the river so far but with it thawing up and surging, he's been able to chance dipping a paw in without being swept away due to his large size. Today's no luck but it's far from his mind now as he spots the molly.

He wants to ask about Flickerfire (unaware of her passing) or Tendriltail or that old crazy geezer Bark, or to just know how everyone is living in the curdled winter. How Pitchstar is getting along. It's clear that he cared deeply for his aunt and was already in bad shape after Briar's death, all that was painfully clear. They weren't exactly close but he was his leader and his wife's nephew. And her niece here now, a medicine cat so young and the new punching bag for dead cats, but Wolverinefang doesn't particularly feel bad for it or any of it really. Bonejaw had intended to return and said as much, it was Shadowclanners that decided she wasn't fit to and he'd believe his mate over anyone, even Starclan itself.

He just decides to nip it in the bud in his usual sarcastic fashion. "Traitor, yadda, yadda. Yes we live in Riverclan, yes your aunt is here. Traitor this, traitor that. Oh and you have new cousins now. Anyway, what are you doing way over here?" He's not going to argue about it because it's meaningless for him now. Even after the ordeal, he doesn't exactly hate Shadowclan, even misses it often (though he'd never say that aloud), but he's a Riverclanner now. Whether he likes it or not. Waffling on about it would just be white noise for him.

Additionally, he's her step-uncle now too and though a traitor, he's not keen to let Starling be eaten up by the influx of predators around lately. "And why are you here alone? Don't you know there's a bunch of dogs just by the sunning rocks?" Who's to say they couldn't roam over and she toddle into their path to become a to-go lunch. "I'm walking you back to Shadowclan when you leave." He doesn't care if she likes it or not, he's insisting. Having his own children has matured him to a degree and he can't in good conscience leave her up to only be on getting as fortunate on her return trip as she was on the arriving one.

BUT NOT GOOD ENOUGH — ♤​

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[FERNGILL]

A rounded shadow, white splashed across her form- a stranger. Ever ill-versed in Clan scents, from a distance- glimpsing her between the reeds- it was difficult to tell from where she hailed. "There's suh-someone over there!" he called to his patrol, slightly hesitantly as he motioned to the strange she-cat with a wave of his oversized paw. Perhaps it would have been wiser for him to wait- a warrior could handle all the negotiations. But Wolverinefang had moved forward, swooped in at the last second- began talking to her like he knew her. Like they were- well, like she had some business knowing all the recent news about his family.

Where had Wolverinefang and Boneripple come from again...?

"Hi, uh..." he mumbled after the warrior had finished talking, a sweet smile set upon his tiny maw. Taking a seat and curling his balding tail around his paws, the kit-sized apprentice regarded the two for a moment before allowing his attention to settle completely upon the black-and-white molly. She sat patiently- and her eyes were verdant and circular, suiting the rounded nature of her features. "I'm Fernpaw! Who're you...?" chirped cheerfully, he aimed to stand to seem a little more welcoming. Mainly... not trying to freak her out by talking about dogs.

/ @MUDPELT mentor tag >:)​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

He has no real sympathy for the ex-ShadowClanners in the clan, nor the ex-WindClanners though due to his previous relationship with Hyacinthbreath she has much more leniency than the others had. A choice to leave the moorland, taken later but at least made-able bodied and capable of immediately providing for the clan. Meanwhile Boneripple and her mate had joined pregnant, focused on that and unable to properly live until kits were born and even then the molly made herself a thorn in his side with her constant abandonment of the nursery and foolishness. Wolverinefang, at least, had crossed him as mostly sensible but he could not help but be annoyed as he approached the border to overhear the discussion being had.

"Shove a tail in it, Wolverinefang." The dark tom wanders forward, burning eye narrowed at the scent of ShadowClan before him and his immediate gut reflex is to tell her to walk back to her marshes before he realizes this is the young Medicine Cat Boneripple had abandoned her duties to. A small pang of sympathy struck him, gaze wandering over the herbs present that were clearly meant as a peace token of some kind, not that he was sure Beesong would be too pleased with the idea of the ShadowClan healer coming to him for anything-which is what he assumed this was: Medicine Cat business. Unless Pitchstar dropped dead and their deputy decided WindClan was no longer an ally they had nothing for and wanted nothing of the marsh dwellers.
"Someone ELSE will walk her back to ShadowClan." The last thing they needed was ShadowClan getting uppity and him responding in turn and making waves which he expected to be the case if the black and white tom went anywhere near his old home.

Fernpaw greets her and he turns back to offer a nod to him and Mudpelt before facing forward once more on the bridge, not inclined to let this go beyond mere pleasantries. "What is it that you want?"

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[Starlingheart]

When Wolverinefang materializes in front of her she visibly recoils for a moment, ears flicking back to rest against her skull as he immediately starts spouting off a fountain of words. Traitor this and traitor that. Starlingheart had no plans on making such accusations, nor did she care to know the status of her aunt but here he was offering anyways. She suddenly finds herself wishing she had at least brought Granitepaw along on this trip. She could hide behind his gray form and let him speak for her. But alas, it was just her right now. She averts her eyes from him for a second only perking her ears back up at the last part of her sentence. She did not want him to escort her home and she is about to say so but before the words can leave her mouth she is interrupted by the presence of two others. She breathes a sigh of relief.

The thought of the dogs hadn't even crossed her mind and suddenly she finds that she is scared, but what choice did she have? She couldn't ask this at the medicine cats gathering and she didn't want to wait. Knowledge was needed to protect her clan, something that her predecessor had failed to do.

She dips her head in greeting, pointedly ignoring her uncle as she speaks directly to Fernpaw. "My uh my name is-is St-Starling Starlingheart" she emphasized the last part of her star given name casting a sideways glance at Wolverinefang. Did he know or did he just call her Starling to patronize her? She was uncertain. "I-Im the medicine cat of uh of Sh-shadow ShadowCl- ShadowClan" she informs Fernpaw before turning her attention to Smokethroat.

She recognizes the black and white tom from previous gathering, sitting near the base of the great rock, gazing up at their leader. He's a lead warrior, she tells herself mentally, trying to calm herself. At least none of these cats appeared hostile. If anything they were friendly. "I-I'm here to uh to see Bee-Beesong. I thi- I think I have a a tr-trade that could uh that could benefit us b-both" what that trade was was for the medicine cats ears alone. No one else would understand the power of knowledge like another medicine cat would. "Thats uh that's very k-kind of you b-but I can t-take uh take myself hooome after I speak to speak to Buh-Buh-Beesong" she tries her best not to speak in her broken pattern but cannot help it. The more she tries not to the worse it gets. Absentmindedly she fiddles with the herbs in front of her hoping that he would either appear or someone would go get him. She didn't want to wait here forever with these strangers. And her estranged uncle.

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[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

buck approaches, the scent of shadowclan invading her world yet again. it seems that everyone likes to crawl upon their borders, asking or begging for something. yet, when the deputy falls in closer, she finds it to be starling...something. she isn't sure. a younger thing, and buck still can't help but feel bad for the poor healer. thrust into a role too early, with the weight of her world on her small shoulders. the cruelty of boneripple to leave her obligations and duty to a child, and she finds herself glaring at wolverinefang. "you'll be cleaning nests when she leaves." the deputy threatens, before turning her attention to the child again. hyacinth had already proved she was simply using riverclan as a safe haven. she'd return to windclan the moment the coast was clear. she thinks the same of bone and wolverine.

fernpaw welcomes her, and she's glad to have someone of a more gentle heart here. when the small molly introduces herself as starlingheart, and calls upon a trade, buck relaxes slightly. "fernpaw, fetch beesong. let him know starling is here for a trade." she hopes the shadowclanner won't have to wait long, she seems fairly uncomfortable here. "are you sure? i can have someone better accompany you." as in, you don't need to talk with traitors. she would offer herself if it made the child more comfortable. the cinammon marked molly would find it scary traveling to shadowclan with dogs on the loose, and she is at the very least, trained and confident in combat. she cannot imagine the position that starlingheart has found herself in.

the deputy stays still, trying to make sure that the medicine cat is...okay. at the very least. buckgait does not find herself too threatening, and hopefully starling can find comfort in riverclan's deputy near her while she waits. while starling is of shadowclan, she is still a child. and a medicine cat. there is some neutrality in that role, she's sure.

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[GLOOMPAW]

The scents of others on the land were now familiar to Gloompaw, her nose fluttering as ShadowClan scent filled the air. Pace quickening, she was hoping to get a glimpse of the marsh-dweller before the interaction was over. Better yet, they'd most likely be a complete stranger. Someone she could poke fun at from her side of the border, get under their skin with no real repercussions. Unless she got caught, which she didn't intend to.

She drew up short when she saw a recognized face. Shoulders drooping, her urgency evaporated, replaced with a swagger as she came up beside Fernpaw. Gloompaw still couldn't quite fathom the burden resting upon Starlingheart's shoulders. Only two moons older, she was already a full medicine cat. It still felt strange to see Boneripple in their camp -- she was almost expecting to see her taller form next to her niece at the medicine meetings, until she realized that she'd seen her on her departure for the mothermouth.

"Hi Starlingheart," the smoke mink greeted, whiskers twitching. Amber eyes darted to Buckgait as she enlisted Fernpaw to fetch Beesong. A breath of relief winded out of her, visibly calmed by the idea her mentor would be the one dealing in this trade instead. Not that she couldn't do it, of course. She almost piped up to say she could walk Starling home, but to face the truth, her bite-and-kick battle method would be nothing against a big, slobbering dog.

Wait. Trade. Excitement flurried in her at the sudden realization of what it meant, an exchange. It meant there was something to offer, something picked from Starlingheart's knowledge to give to Beesong, whether it be information or herbs. Which would be passed to her. It might've been something small, but no doubt it'd be fun either way. Immediately giddy, her neck swiveled over her shoulder, watching for cinnamon fur.
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[WASPRATTLE.]

A new face perched themselves at the border.

Wasprattle knew not what to feel of the other clans. In particular– this one. He could sense vague animosity in his feelings towards WindClan. SkyClan was more clear cut to be friends. And perhaps, aside from the flooding and sodden ground, the most recent source of frustration was indeed ThunderClan.

His only experience with ShadowClan however, would be their former medicine cat, right inside their walls. Wasprattle is... careful. Inclined to kindness, with her and his brother's relationship, but his own picture of her was strained. He did not know the full picture, and he believed he never truly would. Neutrality seems the only good option, in this regard. Neutral, he remains, to the she-cat perched atop their bridge. She is quiet. What he only assumes to be an offering lies at her feet. At Fernpaw's call, curiously, Wasprattle blinks.

A sidelong glance is spared to Wolverinefang, the first to speak, and, in Wasprattle's honest opinion, he should not have. Straight-faced, Wasp may be, save for the crease of a brow. Of course, Wolverinefang has been a part of a clan for longer than he, but this... he could vaguely identify as... unwise. Fighting a battle that only he had started. And, not with disdain does he remark, but in a mere objection. Was a traitor not exactly what they were? "Pardon. They are not arguing with you, I do not think." Of course they were not, considering they'd hardly uttered a word so far. I do not think, is only tacked on as inssurance.

With Smokethroat's arrival, he would clear his throat. Any scrutiny he offered was unimportant, relative to his. Buckgait, too, who at once assigns him extra duties. Wasprattle ducks his head. Intruding, he feels. Their visitor speaks with a strange sort of stutter. A mutual exchange is what she seeks then. Notably, the deputy does not seem opposed, even considering her apparent allyship with WindClan. Did it mean little, in the end then?

Then, he may have offered to escort her himself, was she not against the idea. ( That, and, he was not precisely sure of ShadowClan's whereabouts.) So, he only watches curiously. Though his ears flicker, catching interest upon Gloompaw's arrival. "Are the two of you friends?" Only curiosity.

ooc translations

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[BEESONG]

beesong comes to the bridge upon fernpaw's request, skepticism veiled behind a mask of neutrality. the healer of shadowclan has come to ask for a trade... beesong has never been fond of shadowclan, especially after briarstar's vindictive son took control and aligned himself with sootstar. the marshland group has marked themselves as a threat in the healer's eye; they are an erratic, unstable lot who have no moral code that beesong can see.

beesong's inner voice urges him to reject the trade and send starlingheart back to her swamp. yet the rational side of the cinnamon tabby's brain reminds him that he could use this trade to riverclan's advantage. he still has gaps in his medical knowledge that he's trying to fill. if starlingheart has something to offer... herbs that grow in shadowclan that riverclan does not cultivate... he might as well hear her out, right? how you feel isn't important. your duty to riverclan comes first.

laying their gaze on her again, beesong is reminded of just how young starlingheart is. far too young to carry a full name, much less carry the burdens of a medicine cat on her small shoulders. boneripple abandoned her duties to a child just entering adolescence, and while it is not their place to forgive... they wouldn't forget that callousness.

beesong stands next to gloompaw, observing the tiny she-cat across the border with icy civility. "starlingheart. how's shadowclan?" it's nothing more than a formality; given how sharply starlingheart's ribs are outlined along her flanks, it's obvious that shadowclan is struggling. almost as quickly as they'd spoken, beesong rocks on their paws and flicks their stubbed tail with a low hum—they don't want to drag out this interaction any longer than needed. "you've come for a trade, and i'll hear you out. what is it that you're looking for, and what will you offer riverclan in exchange?"​

 

[CICADASTAR]

shadowclan stench. one of the most easy to tell ; rot and carrion, the harsh burning smell of thunderpath. it takes the stars themselves not to twist his nose in disgust, feels the reeking smoke scent burning away at his sinuses. he hears the inklings of conversation as he follows beesong, glowering at the ex - shadowclanner just as the rest of his clan does. the tom is massive, but as is he, a lanky, glowering beast that comes to a neat, postured stance alongside his clanmates, “ wolverinefang, youll do well to watch your mouth in the presence of starclan’s chosen. “ it’s snarled, unlike buckgait who regards him just as coldly. former clanmate or not, he would not have him embarrass him front of a medicine cat — he didn’t like him, not in the slightest. the lanky leader did not like him, and it shows in bitter blue eyes as he settles amongst them, twitches an ear to buckgait assigning him to nest cleaning. it was something, he supposed. maybe his flippant tongue could be fixed with labor, but for some sinking reason, be doubted it would be helped. he thinks to speak with bone about it, grits his teeth at the generosity he’d spared him in her name. cleaning nests, “ and you’ll finish your day with tick duty. the apprentices will surely appreciate the day off. “ no, he would not be the one embarrassed, “ we’ll see if you’re still so happy to admit to your traitor status when you’re treated like one. “

irritation bristles his curls, but he takes a deep breath, steels himself — then turns to the small tuxedo molly, lets a tight - lipped, tired smile grace his gaunt features, “ starlingheart, i apologize for the rude welcome. “ the young girl, bone’s little niece. she is smaller than he’d thought, smaller than what he imagined from afar at gatherings past. rubs jut from her slim side, sleek black fur doing nothing to conceal the marshland hardships. a kindling of regret flickers in his chest, one he stomps out as quickly as it ignites, replaces the bitter feeling with suspicion hes sure shows in the rigidness of his pose. he knew what it was like to toil in the swamplands — he knew the desolation, the bite of hunger that never quite let up, but that was a different time, and he was no stranger to the extremes a starving shadowclanner would do. beesong is present now, as is gloompaw, and so he says little else, merely watches through slitted eyes as they interact, waits to see what the young medicine cat would offer them in response. if pleased, he would see the remaining warriors out ; he doubted the cinnamon tabby wanted an audience, but as long as they were pleased, he would be as well.

− ♱ information out of character ⟐ visual reference translated ♱ −

• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
  m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.
  
  ᨒ gay, courting smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
  ᨒ speaks with a german accent. 40 moons, ages on the eighth.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
• none.

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[Starlingheart]

The skinny black and white she cat almost feels embarrassed as other cats come to her defense, chastising her uncle for his rude behavior but instead she is surprised. She was fully prepared to meet insults and disappointment here and instead everyone was now looking at her waiting for what she had to say.

She dips her head in a polite greeting to Gloompaw before turning her attention to Wasprattle. Were they friends? She is uncertain. She would not really consider any of the other medicine cats friends but maybe, maybe one day. Still, it would not do any good to say such a thing out loud so she smiles and simply says "U-us medicine cats I-I-I think we I think we should sti-stick together no?" have each others backs, help one another. That was what she hoped to accomplish by this visit today.

When Beesong arrives he is all business. Her eyes flash for a moment to Cicadastar and she realizes they’re all watching her now, waiting for what she had to say and she has to force herself not to shrink backwards. Instead she looks down at her small bundle. "I-I want to go trade kn-knowledge" she says revealing that inside her carefully wrapped Ivy leaf is a small collection of herbs "I-ive brought a little of uh of everything I have wh-which you can you can have when we’re when we’re done and I-I’ll teach you I’ll teach you everything I-I know in exchange for all you kn-know" She says, trying to get it all out there as fast as she can to prevent herself from becoming a stuttering mess. She must steel her nerves or else she fears they may not take her seriously, she tries her best to sit a little taller. "I I just want I just want to do what’s be-best for for everyone no matter what cl-clan and I uh I can’t do that with the-the little knowledge I have now. So wh-what do you say?" she hopes to all the stars above that he says yes.
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[BEESONG]

beesong is painfully aware of cicadastar's presence, skin prickling as the leader chastises wolverinefang. would he do the same to beesong? had he spoken out of turn by offering to hear out starlingheart's trade request? should he have waited for cicadastar's permission? he thinks he should've, but before he could try to atone for his mistake, cicadastar's apologizing to the shadowclan medicine cat.

the king of the rivers falls silent then, and beesong feels the pressure upon their shoulders grow.

starlingheart glances down at a small bundle she's brought, one paw shifting so that the ivy leaf falls away to reveal a small assortment of herbs. she states that she wants to trade knowledge; everything she knows in exchange for everything beesong knows. she even offers to give beesong the herbs she's carried with her today. the answer is clear in their mind. more knowledge and more herbs are beneficial not only to them but to riverclan as a whole. even if starlingheart's pool of knowledge is shallow, anything is better than nothing. however, they glance towards cicadastar with their teeth finding the inside of their cheek. "if cicadastar permits it," beesong begins, choosing their words carefully in front of the smoke tortie. they dip their head to cicadastar, hoping it would be enough to make up for earlier. (even if cicadastar has not said anything to them, they still convince themselves that they were out of line.) "i will accept."​

 

[wolverinefang]

જ➶ It's clear that his brand of sarcasm isn't particularly welcome in Riverclan and while it was certainly a defensive move and to let it be known where he stands (unrepentent), he didnt think it was any worse or better than the banter he was used to back in Shadowclan. Seeing the medicine cat's reaction, he thinks it's for seeing him at all rather than his words though she did always strike him as meek. He supposes he's not there anymore however and when Smokethroat shushes him, he sighs soundlessly and stifles a shrug. It makes sense he supposes. He wouldn't be welcome there, no matter what his purpose there would be and that's something he'll have to learn to live with. As she introduces herself by her new name, his ears tilt as it's his first time hearing it since he'd not been to any Gatherings because of being caught up with his new kids and the state of the place.

Believing Smokethroat would have it covered as he implied, Wolverinefang decides it's time to leave since Starling clearly doesn't appreciate his presence but he stops when Buckgait speaks. "What for?" He can't help but ask, looking genuinely confused, before shifting his attention to Wasprattle. "Great, it wasn't meant to be an arguement," the large tom says matter-of-factly in return. As the glaring eyes pile up, topped off with the leader himself, it takes great willpower not to snarl back. What was so special about being Starclan's chosen? Starclan was as useless to him as sand in a desert, just a bunch of dead has-beens and when he dies he hopes he rots in the ground rather than join their supposed illustrious ranks. They were useless for Briarstar, they were useless for Boneripple, they were useless for him and for the flood. To the tom, it seems like more a curse for false hope and an unreliable backup for careless leaders than anything. Even then, he almost wishes he'd said something with a little more bite, just to be "worthy" in his mind of the vitriol. What a bunch of pansies, must be all the water between their ears,' he finds himself reverting in thought.

Wolverine doesn't shrink back from Cicada's embittered stare, gazing back with a forced neutrality because that's the best he can conjure without glaring back. In a weird way, he's grateful to see that distaste. Liike it's permission on his own conscience to not like him right back if he comes to feel that way, which he's coming to lean toward now. He'd been riding that line for his conscience's sake because Cicada allowed him here but in the back of his mind, he knows and has always known, it's only because he's Bone's baggage.

Of course he's annoyed, any adult cat would be being out to apprentice duties but he refuses to show it outwardly. Pretending it's water down a duck's back. He's had worse and he'd picked ticks longer than most for his jabbering and it never changed a thing, he tells himself. If it'll make them feel like they're doing something to him, he'll go along with it relatively painlessly (though he has little choice anyways, no matter how haughtily he regards it all). "Sure thing." The tom dips his head toward Starlingheart and since they have her return covered, he sees no reason to stick around especially with these newfound duties.

/out
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