border Enter Lacey

[Lacey]

Warm rays of sun had softly begun filtering through the thicket of tall pines, warming the morning chill from the fading frosty air, mist from the night gradually settling into the mornings dampness. A spectacle of dazzling beads of morning dew adorning the blooming new leaf growth, it twinkle like starlight with the sunlight's rays touching down into the underbrush of the quiet morning forest.
A twig snap somewhere off in the near distance,
in response, a set of mottled tabby ears flick up from a bramble of berry bushes lining the fencing that mark the border of the two leg den she had known as home. A pattern of mostly blacks and greys with the odd mark of brown or red, each ear filled with white clouds twitching eagerly toward the sound. A cat no older than 10 moons pop up from the brambles with frustrated breath, eyes of deep marine greens staring widely toward the sound, it sounded larger than any mouse she had heard, her mother spoke of cats who lived out here in the pine wood, surely she would not stumble across one so soon to leaving her two legs home...

The felines emerald eyes remain wide for some time, waiting to see if the sound would bring forth anything, but as time continue to pass she just enjoy the mornings growing warmth, staring off into the tall pines blankly, lost in thought. A brief and sweet twittering of birds flying overhead pulling her spacey gaze upward, the trees canopy shading the silver tabby from the blinding sun as she stare up into the bright blue skies. seeing the feathered snack had her remembering her mission in the first place, pangs of hunger rumbling her tummy and jogging her memory further. she was not yet malnourished but scrawny from fending for herself for some weeks now, taking to eating insects, which proved suitable for a time, but after so many spiders even they could not keep the hunger at bay.

finally weaving her way from out the thorny brambles and moving to groom out any of the bush caught in her pelt. preening at picking at the twisting twigs and thorns, she wasn't too particular about her coat, but knew well to keep it free of brambles, shuddering as she roughly yank out a stick caught up in chest.

 

[Owlheart]

It was a standard patrol, pretty peaceful all things considered. The sun felt nice, it would probably be the last of the days that the sun would be something of a delight. Soon the heat would be unbearable for Owlheart's thicker coat, until then though she could enjoy it. The sound of foliage being brushed against and dried leaves being crunched from the weight of something heavier than a light piece of prey nearby.

Her feathery orange and white tail straightened as she stood to alert, trying to listen out to any calls to attention. She couldn't hear anything though, that concerned her but she wouldn't approach the situation with immediate hostility. The warrior took careful steps to avoid giving away too much sound as she walked towards the border. Golden eyes looking out, holding out an expectation that her gaze would land upon someone intimidating and scary. Instead seeing a she-cat, her assessments lead to the thought that she was maybe a loner? Too thin for a normal kittypet anyways.

Owlheart cleared her throat, concerned as she seemed to be losing this fight against parting herself from the nature that had been stuck to her fur. “Hi there, I'm Owlheart... Are you alright? What're you doing on SkyClan's border?” She asked with a head tilt, trying and failing to remember to not stare. At least she remembered to introduce herself this time, she found that despite her strides at improving in socialisation she wasn't yet used to the social dance that was interacting with strangers on the border.
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[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A managed ear twitched, overhearing Owlheart’s voice rang out, calling to another — a stranger seekin’ redemption from whatever life had tossed their way. It was common amongst folks he met at the unclaimed border, but rarely did it phase the older tom unless some foxhearted parent decided it was high time they dumped their kid off to fend for themselves. Duskpool breathed the words foxdung, veering toward the warrior with a crinkled brow, molten hues scrutinizing the stranger littered with nature’s thorns.

He fought back a chuff of amusement, wooly tail flickering, Duskpool hummed. “Are ya comin’ here with intentions of joinin’ or are ya curious about the feral cats livin’ in the forest?” He inquired, timbre deadpan despite the low rumble. It wasn’t unusual to find a curious critter wanderin’ the border, or a lost kittypet unable to find their way back to their upwalkers. He breathed, helm jerkin’ toward the mess of fur. “Any injuries?” Somethin’ akin to empathy flashed briefly if it weren’t for the thought of blood draggin’ something less unfortunate to the border and that was somethin’ the older warrior didn’t want to deal with it he could prevent it for either side. “Ain’t but a kid yerself, mind tellin’ us yer name, kiddo?” He prodded further, deadpan. ​

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thought speech​

 

[DROWSYNOSE]

STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME​

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there was nothing more to be said by the time he caught up to duskpool. gently, the former apprentice pressed his head against duskpool offering a small smile to his old mentor before turning back to the stranger at the border. his tail twitched as he looked back and forth before just keeping his distance and staying next to duskpool, where he certainly felt safest. he didn't wanna even really be here, confronting a potential joiner, but he had to. he's a warrior now. he's gotta suck it up. be better. be braver. be stronger... a lot easier said than done. he's never been any of those things. taking in a deep breath in and out he decides that maybe he doesn't have to stay.

"sh...should i get o-orangestar? i'll go get orangestar."

with a bump to his former mentor and a wave of his tail to owlheart, the warrior pads off. he's got better luck doing this than standing behind the safety net that is duskpool.

// @Orangestar
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[Lacey]

The younger felines whiskers twitch, staring to the other she-cat with fear swirling about her deep green eyes, the messy fur of the thick pelted cat standing on end, only able to continue in staring to the other, frozen. Her maw would reach to reply but Lacey would be cut short by the flicking of her cloud filled ears, twitching toward incoming paw steps. Lacey pull her gaze from Owlheart and onto the approaching tomcat, the two become three, and then, eventually four, as another tomcat trot forth, her emerald eyes further widening, further with each additional cat that join the border gathering.

Before now the only other cat Lacey interacted with being her mother, the pair living along side a two legs Lacey's mother affectionately dubbed 'Collector', an elderly woman with an affliction for hoarding.

Lacey shakily step a paw backwards, regretting leaving her thorny suit of armour as the three others converse, these cats all looking much more capable than she. The last cat that join in on the discussion of what was to be done with little Lacey, mentioning another. 'Skyclan? Border? Feral cats? Orangestar?' Many words she'd not heard used before.
She thought how could there be any more of these wild cats? perhaps they could help her…. Lacey wasn't lost but hunger groaned within, her stomach audibly rumbling. Yet, even so she continue to merely stare at the group a little longer, fear moving to curiosity as she watch the dark coated cat pad off into the pine.

"What is Orangestar?" A quiet mew, it was clear she try sound polite in her first question, words delicate and whispered.

 

[SLATE]

The hulking charcoal-pelted tom's nose wrinkles as the stench of a twoleg den wafts into the vicinity, accompanying the newcomer that the rest of the patrol was addressing. Urgh, another wayward pet. Why couldn't they keep their noses out of places where they didn't belong? Never mind the fact that Slate had ended up on the streets as a kitten by doing the exact same thing.

The stranger's inquiry about Orangestar seems... unbelievable to Slate — there were cats who didn't know who she was, let alone SkyClan or the clans themselves. Slate sometimes thinks about the life he could have lived — a life without the freedom of the forest. Without his littermate, without Orangestar. It's difficult to imagine now, especially knowing how much he cares about... Well, that was neither here nor there.

A more curt tone rolled off of the lead warrior's tongue as amber eyes bore down toward the young kittypet, "Orangestar is our leader. Her word is law." And soon, she would determine what to do with this molly who's said only a few words thus far. She had a lot more explaining to do, especially with the questions that had been raised by the other patrol members. Could she not even manage her name like Duskpool had requested? Slate lets out a snort.

"Do your ears work? Answer the questions." The lead warrior seemed to have a penchant for facing newcomers to SkyClan's lands, though his temper was shorter than a majority of his clanmates'. He would not be the gracious, warm presence that would provide comfort in the presence of a lost, wide-eyed kittypet. Slate was here to defend the pines that he called home, especially after predators and murderers had roamed the borders rampantly as of late. This young she-cat did not appear threatening right off the bat, but the Maine Coon was nowhere close to being trusting of any unfamiliar face.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

• apprentice tag @COFFEEPAW

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[Lacey]

Just as Lacey had gained confidence it be snapped from the silver cat, ears pinning down in response to this new voice, they clearly did indeed work, the toms booming voice forcing Lacey down into a crouch, trembling in response "Lacey-" her words choked out in a weak bark. It seemed the little cat try becoming even smaller, trying to take refuge within her own mottled coat it seemed. "My ears work…I-I…" she take in a gulp, sitting up with false confidence, puffing her chest to match "I'm Lacey! And I am very hungry!"

 

[MOMOWHISKER]

The outsider welcoming committee seldom fell onto Momowhisker's paws, despite the sincerity of his conversations and desire to please those around him, there was a privateness to the Daylight Warrior that made connection with strangers difficult past a surface level. Rarely did it feel like his place to invite them to the clan or chase them off, instead, he kept a neutral response, gently ushering them back towards clan borders until they'd chosen whether they wanted to investigate SkyClan further. Painfully, they had gotten there too late to make a difference this time. He looked between Slate and the stranger (Lacey, she'd identified herself as), eyes wide in response to the tension. Then, Lacey made it worse by mentioning she was hungry, and, before the surly Lead Warrior could reply, Momowhisker bound forwards on lanky limbs, laughter louder and more awkward than usual as he tried to bring attention away from her request. A softer touch would've likely given the stranger food right there, but he knew Slate was likely to turn her down and declare that she had food 'at home' - he wasn't wrong, but the last thing that Lacey seemed to need at the moment was rejection.

An apologetic look was cast at his outburst, his tail lashing behind him like a whip. "It's alright... we don't give out charity. We have young and old that need food but..." The idea didn't sit right with him to turn away someone down on their luck. Gangly as Momowhisker was, he was well-fed on the finest kibble with a food bowl that opened whenever he got close to it - he didn't know what hunger pangs felt like. Still, they couldn't be enjoyable, if the cat were willing to endanger herself to satiate them. "I think, maybe, we might be able to make an exception? You can pay us back with some hunting of your own when you're feeling stronger." He looked to Slate for approval before ripping his gaze away, feeling a tightness in his throat brought about by the thought of conflict. 'Orangestar... save me, I think he's glaring at my skull but I don't want to turn around and check.'' A smile parted his muzzle as he thought about what he could do to help. Taking food from home would be an option, but he'd already had sleepless nights worrying that someone saw him invite Plaguepaw to take some. Helping another in that way felt too risky, even if it would save their life. StarClan, he hoped the pang of guilt in his stomach was just bad prey, something temporary.
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