from silver lake • crossing the river

[CICADASTAR]

takes place just before this thread.

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GUTTA CAVAT LAPIDEM : leaving. his heart aches, his teeth would grit should @Sablekit not still hang from his gentle maw, curled against the biting winds. he walks along the well - trodden path towards the arching rivers, where waters have lowered from the blockage and left them frosted over, solid. stopping a few tail lengths away, the man lowers sablekit to the ground, lets the soft nape of her scruff fall from tender jaws once she is sturdy upon little paws, “ stay here, “ a firm voice, though warm — little room for arguments, though he highly doubted the girl would disobey to begin with. the man looks up, hopefully to find either of her parents about to watch over her ; at the very least, he leaves her with smokethroat, aims to give the tom a lingering glance. keep an eye on her. to the rest of his clan, cicadastar lifts his tail, commands to a stop as he ventures towards the riverside. the cross towards beech copse is frozen, a layer of hard ice layered over sluggishly moving waters far beneath. hard eyes flit over it and worry sparks in his chest, though his expression merely twitches — a brief, stressed movement only those closest to him would notice, let alone translate to the tell it is.

a single white paw extends carefully, pressing firm to the surface and . . it’s sturdy. the riverclan leader ticks his ears back against the nipping cold, presses his weight to the ice and it creaks, but holds. thick, scuffed white settles beneath him and its crossable. thank starclan for small blessings. a patrol was already ahead, setting up their makeshift dens — he hoped they had the nursery prepared, worries for the two litters of kits either hobbling alongside their parents or dangling from an elders jaws, wind - whipped and cold. he takes a deep breath, despises the way it fails to calm his ticking heart, “ the ice is thickest here.. we’ll cross this way towards the beech copse. “ it was the sturdiest as far as he could see, anyway. the chimera looks down the frozen river for a beat, before turning to lay eyes on the cats behind him, “ kits and queens first, keep moving once you reach the other side. “ a simple command, a twitch of an ear meaning quickly. their makeshift camp was a straight shot from here, and any hesitation further chilled their damp forms to the bone.

once the majority of his patrol crossed, so would he — but until then he simply stands, watching the ice for any signs of movement beneath his warriors paws.

− ♱ information visual reference out of character translations ♱ −

• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−−−−−⠀⠀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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[Sablemist]

In every situation you give me peace

Her wet limbs feel as if they'd been dunked in ice itself as cold biting winds whip around mercilessly. Curling up tighter in hopes to stay a little warmer she watches the world around her with worried blue eyes. Panicked voices always remained within earshot although Cicadastar's body hid most things from view. The only thing could see before her now was a semi frozen body of water, where liquid slushed lazily underneath. Sablekit is released from the river king's firm but gentle grasp, placed a safe distance from the river. An order is given for her to remain where she stood and on trembling, shivering legs the girl nodded obediently. "B-be careful!" Apprehension blossomed within her chest the closer Cicadastar drew to the river itself, watching as an ivory paw tested the weight of the flimsy looking sheet of ice. But it holds and he urges everyone to cross, queens and kits first.

Shivers continue to assault her willowy frame as she looks around for her family so they could cross. "M-mom, dad?!" Dread creeps into her senses the longer they go without showing their faces and she hunkers down a bit against another frigid gust of wind. "S-s-skunkkit, Silentkit?" She knew Skunk made it out of the nursery okay but what of her Silent? Sable's periwinkle gaze shifts upward to rest upon Smokethroat with a small frown, should they not come for her she would remain standing with him. (family tag! @BONERIPPLE @wolverinefang @Skunk-kit @Silentkit )​

Don't gotta be afraid because you're in the lead​

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[iciclefang]

Iciclepaw's fur is still wet, her body numb with cold, and she wears an uncharacteristic dejected expression on her oft-stoic face. She and her littermates and Gillpaw made it out of the wreckage of the apprentice den, thanks to her Clanmates, but the terror the experience had induced has left her almost limp. To add insult to injury, it had been the final straw -- Cicadastar had decreed RiverClan must abandon their camp in order to survive.

She's never known any home but their camp, and leaving feels odd and strangely heavy. She pads behind the leader, who carries Sablekit in his jaws by her scruff until they reach an expanse of frozen river.

Ice. Their leader tests it with his weight, and she can hear the creak. She tenses. It holds. Cicadastar turns back to the Clan and tells them the ice is thick enough to cross to the Beech Copse.

He orders kits and queens across first. Iciclepaw is neither, and she will wait for Boneripple and Willowroot to lead their children across the ice. The black and white she-cat hasn't pushed her way to the front left, leaving Sablekit scared and trembling by the edge.

"It's okay," she murmurs to the little she-kit. "Your mother will be right along, I'm sure. Don't go without her, okay?" Boneripple should be there to guide them and prevent them from delaying the journey. Iciclepaw glances impatiently behind her.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[SMOKESTAR]

Smokethroat likes to imagine he and the river were on good terms. It had tried to kill him once, long ago, bashed his face into rocks for being foolishly reckless in its waters and left the curved scars on his muzzle as a reminder to never let arrogance blind him. He'd learned that lesson, took it to heart. The thing line between arrogance and confidence was one more ignorant cats struggled to treat but he had settled humble on the side that left him sure in his ways and at ease with his own capabilities. If it came down to it, he could swim in this horrid melt of frozen snow and bitter winter for a small time and it was the only thing that left him not anxiously following after the mottled tom's trek forward. The dark tom felt the muscles in his body tighten, winding into coils in preparation to spring after Cicadastar at a moment's notice, terrified at the mental image of the man dipping beneath the icy surface and vanishing from his sight. He'd set himself by the shore, forepaws framing Sablekit from the cold and he glances down at her trembling and crying for her family, ears pinned back as he also turns like Iciclepaw to see where they all might be; his apprentice speaks, soothing and encouragingly and he wants to make a joke about how mature she sounds but he feels the cold has sapped his dry wit entirely.
Right now his mind is laced with worry, brow furrowed and watching the sleek sheen of ice before them curve and twist further down the territory and like a graceful deer the longlimbed river king moves across it with the same confidence Smokethroat insisted he had before.
Perhaps he was only confident in himself, perhaps it did not extend outward and he was left to fret and worry over others his entire life but he had to believe the bastard would be safe with his investigation. A poor show to be skewered again by a blade of ice as he had an arrow before once again before his young charge. They'd never spoken of the incident sense, but he imagines Iciclepaw remembers it with even more unease than he does.
"Stay close to Iciclepaw for now, alright?" A gentle black paw nudges the girl, coaxes her to move next to the charcoal brand of fire that was the older molly and he rises to stand because the cold had begun to ease into his haunches and stiffen his backlegs.
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[Peachpaw.]

Heart still hammering in her chest after the collapse of the apprentice's den, Peachpaw trailed the rest of her clanmates by several fox-lengths. Frozen or not, the idea of crossing the river made the tortoiseshell want to throw up. She watched the leader test the ice before he hurried the queens and kits along. The girl hung back, looking over her shoulder the way they had come. She was torn between running from the only home she'd ever had, and running from the ice that threatened to break underfoot. Either way, she'd drown.

Green eyes darting around in search of her father, Peachpaw tried to steady her breathing, which was rapidly shifting from short, quick breaths to gasping for air as panic gripped her. She felt like her throat was going to close and her paws felt so weak that she thought she might faint. Oh, StarClan why had this happened?

(@DogTeeth obligatory dad tag)

 

[Chirping Bird]

NOTHING LIKE HOME​

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Times were tough to say the least about this leaf-bare. Chirping Bird had been alive to see these times again and again. It never got easier. Watching cats around her starve or be forced to leave their home. The elder’s heart ached for her found family around her. Riverclan was a short part of her overall life but she would die for any cat here. They were her family. When they hurt she hurt. When they cried she cried.

The older cat stayed beside the queens and kits. Offering some of the smaller cats warmth with her thick pelt. Giving the youngest of them comforting licks. She did not show any sorrow. Finding strength by being near all her clan-mates. Her graying muzzle lifted high as she looked across the ice path. Crossing the thickest ice was still scary. If a cat were to fall through, that would be their end.

“Does anyone need help crossing?” Chirping Bird asks, looking towards those with young kits. She may be old but she could manage carrying a kit across. ​

 

[Cindershade]

The frigid air dug into her now soaked skin, her fur drenched and clung to her vivacious frame. She watches intently as Cicadastar tests the integrity of the ice as he bears his weight upon it. Inwardly, the molly cringes. She remembers too well the vengeance of flowing and churning waters beneath the thick layering of ice, her own weight falling through it while trying to haul Smokethroat from it's grasp. Luckily she was able to muster through it's vice grip, able to break through the water's surface and drag herself back to the safety of the shore. Cindershade doesn't say anything as her leader determines the safest path across the icy River, her tail twitching nervously.
Queens and kits first, she nods in agreement. It was best to get them out of the way to safety with so many able-bodied warriors in tow in case the worst case scenario happened. Though she prayed nothing like that would happen this time. There was no need to lose anyone to the daring river below. Her eyes watch intently for the first if the group to cross, hear hesrt beginning to thunder in her chest with apprehension. No matter how much she'd try to clear her head, those looming thoughts still lingered like a shadow within the depths of her mind. Her eyes search for @Pinepaw , hopefully his chocolate coat would come into view so she could accompany him when it was time to cross.
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[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]​

 

[CICADASTAR]

they are beginning to cross. ambling slowly ahead and he looks back, checks the horizon for signs of warriors lingering behind. he could only hope they would be about soon, flicks an ear as sablekit calls caution to him. a sensible girl, though her voice shakes when it lifts to call for her family -- who has not yet risen from the depths of their drowned camp. perhaps they were straggling behind, or perhaps they had gone ahead with willowroot, but either way the man turns to move away from the icy edge, " ja, i always am, " its a lie, but he says it with the smile of an honest man -- bold, crinkling the edges of weary blue eyes. iciclepaw hovers close, comforts her despite the horrors she'd just gone through in a den she'd called her own, and he's grateful. she'd make a fine warrior one day, and it's no wonder. her mentor stands aside them both, as stone - faced as the rest of them. still, he settles, looks at them all ; he couldn't afford to wait, not with them as cold as they were. drenched and frosted, trembling against the winds.

he swallows hard, glances back once more, parting his maw for a firm, " cindershade, lead the little ones across, please. " he could trust her to keep them moving and in line, " keep it moving, this chill is just as dangerous as the river the longer we stand around. " he didn't want to go any further. he didn't want to leave the confines of his camp, or whatever was left of it. his chest aches, but his expression does not move — hollow, flat the moment eyes leave his angular face. his head tilts upward, skyward. he would survive his drenched forelimbs and bitter winds.. their young could prove not so lucky. the river king would linger behind, whether to mope or to ensure no one had been left, thick curls pulling with each strong gust. stars, he wanted to rest — but he had no nest to turn to, not now. his jaw clicks, and but he says nothing else, merely sliding his eyes closed and listening for the sounds of paws upon ice.

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

• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−−−−⠀⠀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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