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dogwood

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❁ DOGWOOD ❁
When the lynx point leapt down from the wooden fence and came face-to-face with the forest of pines and evergreens stretching out in front of him, a smile began to twitch at his whiskers, and his tail lifted up high. This tom in particular was a cat with many names, every housefolk calling him something different with each house he visited. It was too troublesome to remind himself that today he was Snowball and the next day he was Whiskers and the day after that he was Prince Henry the Seventeenth, Ruler of Darkness (that one made him smile), so he had picked his own name somewhere along the line.

Dogwood. After the white blossoming tree in the first house he'd ever been in. He liked that name. It suited him, and the branch-like stripes along his legs, and the white shine of his fur. It suited the likeness of a Ruler of Darkness such as he quite well!

The lax, thick-furred tom purred in amusement as he began into the forest. It was just the season for a relaxing midmorning stroll. He had just finished his meal on the porch of one of the more generous housefolk, said his greetings to the two little itty-bitty housefolk pups who always came out to greet him on his travels, and now, Dogwood had nothing better to do but wander. He knew the homey little cul-de-sac that he normally explored far too well by now. He needed something exciting, something new!

Only vaguely aware that he had crossed some type of scent border, his eyes were directed upwards at the clear blue sky and the passing of a jackdaw overhead. Yep. An absolutely beautiful day. ​
skyclan · he/him · penned by cuzn · tags​
 
Oily serrated black fur dances on his hackles with every long stride, like a slithering urchin he was through the softly grassed forest. Then, he wasn’t on the ground, and curved hard keratin clamber with bark and he’s crawling up the pine with precisely put paws.

Then it’s like sailing the skies, his collar clasp clicks softly but other than that he is as silent as an adder and soaring from branch to branch till he can see the twolegplace fences near the edge of the forest. This- is where the birds go for bath and chirpy chatter, but with the coming of winter this would soon be barren of feathery treats.

A jackdaw swoops in the distance, and Thistleback makes his way like a shadow through the spiky green tendrils. Knuckled paws slamming the last branch hard as he stops himself- spotting with ease a thick wintery coat, striped darkly around the legs. Nostrils flare to catch the intruder’s scent, but the smile on his maw only tells the tale of a wayward kittypet.

The tom had his eyes in the skies above, so with a kick off the swaying limb- the skyclanner soars once more to the ground with a heavy thump almost adjacent to the lynx point. " good morning, lad " he greets, hoarse and accented with eloquent old English. " just wandering the forest? or have you, business with Skyclan" he adds with a studious once-over. A smile lined with dried blood and grime, was the signature smile of one Thistleback- but friendly, nonetheless.

​

OOC INFO REF
  • —

  • — Thistleback | thirty moons | cis-male
    — daylight warrior of Skyclan
    — bisexual | fallen for Deersong 9.29.22
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes. Wears a purple collar with brass clasp.
  • bVBPWus.png

​
 

Today is a beautiful day, one that strikes a smile across a soft fawn coloted muzzle. His eyes of grey shift to the forested ground below and he wonders how long its been since he and Watson arrived here. Some days now and he is sure his friend has been slowly fitting in. Or at least he hopes so. Given the others past he really wants him to start looking on the bright side of things and to flourish here. Rolling over his lips hang off the branch he has been laying on when he spots one of the Skyclanners he has yet to know. He is on the move and like a small mouse the other hopes up and begins to follow. After all with nothing else going on that he particularly knows about he finds himself searching. Slipping through the tree branches his eyes suddenly follow the Jackdaw for a moment.

The fluttering wings attractive to the eyes before the smell of a stranger tickles his nostrils. Flicking his thick cream colored tail he grins brightly as he looks at the newcomer. "Business? He muses as he starts to scrap his way down the tree. Each movement is precise as he lands upon the ground with a soft hop. "Welcome to the forest by the way. It's pretty nice here if I do say so myself. The name's Skittles. Who might you be?"​
 
❁ DOGWOOD ❁
So those tree-cats were real. He had thought they were just an old molly's tale, with how those house cats talked about them. Eating bones for breakfast and all that. Dogwood returned the friendly demeanor, giving the two cats a carefree smile of his own, silver-blue eyes sparkling in delight. "Oh, I've got tons of names. Seems like every twoleg likes to refer to me as somethin' different. You can call me Dogwood."

Sensing no danger in either of them (despite the darker tom's horrendous smile), Dogwood gave a stretch, earning a satisfying pop from his lower spine in the process. He wasn't exactly old—no, he was in very good shape for a kittypet—but his age was beginning to show in the form of an occasional ache in his hips. Some more exercise would do him a world of good though, he knew that much.

"I'm just wanderin'. Lookin' for somethin' more meaningful than a new twoleg every day." Dogwood wasn't one of those single-house cats. He knew the whole neighborhood, and the whole neighborhood knew him. He knew which houses had dogs, which houses had other cats, and more than once he had noticed a kitty-cat from his neck of the woods wandering into the forest in the early hours of the morning and only returning to their housefolk at nighttime. He had gotten curious, and so here he was. "You said you're from SkyClan? Is that where I see all those other house cats goin' off to?" ​
skyclan · he/him · penned by cuzn · tags​
 

Funny how there were such sinister rumours flitting around about his kind, and yet here he stood- in front of those who were meant to fear him- fluffed up in hostility and a healthy dose of terror. Fur stood sharp along his spine as sun-wide eyes stared down the newcomer, introducing himself to them all as Dogwood- but, not before some kind of warning. Or was it a boast? He went by many names- every Twoleg giving him a different alias. Twolegs were strange with such habits, but Dogwood was even stranger- knowing their practices, flitting between so many that not one knew him permanently.

"How do you even- know what name's yours if you have loads of different ones?" It was a jutted question, sharp in volume, and spat from a frantic maw. Such a concept sounded- utterly confusing, completely overwhelming.Twitchpaw could hardly fathom it- such a thing was obvious from his mild slack-jaw, and the stunned stasis of his odd eyes. ​
penned by pin ✧​
 
𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒​
"What's crackin', Pretty Kitties?" A familiar coo would float into the air and weave around the already present cats as Deersong came into view. Her half-lidded gaze would blink slowly in a friendly and content manner before they settled onto an unfamiliar face. "Oh fab, who's the new friend boys?"

The lead warrior would walk up on steps that seemed to glide along the fur thanks to her feathered paws, stopping beside Thistleback and greeting her mate with a soft touch to his shoulder with her muzzle before returning her attention to the lynx point. Her head would tilt to the left, then to the right, as she observed the kitty-pet with curiosity and she cooed softly, "We have many warriors who spend their days with us and then return to their two legs for the nights. Are you looking to be a cat like that?"

She would look at Skittles and Twitchpaw for a moment, proud of the trio that they had been so kind and civil to the stranger and represented their home positively. Though of course she was not surprised. Skyclanners were stellar cats' after all. ​

 
❁ DOGWOOD ❁
"How d'you know which name you like if you don't try 'em all?" Dogwood responded to the spiky-furred apprentice with a chuckle. Dogwood was rarely concerned with such anxious thoughts as having too much of something, or even too little; this little burr-furred tom made it seem like a cause for panic, but the only cause Dogwood could find was for amusement. These clan cats were mighty entertaining, they didn't seem like bone-eaters and kitten-killers in the slightest.

Then again, those sheltered types would look at a lil' sticker bush and call it the spawn of somethin' pure evil. Heh.

When a sweet-toned, fawn molly approached, Dogwood gave a smile and sat himself down, wondering if this conversation would be one of the lengthy types. She certainly had some type'a demure to her; if he knew her name, he would've thought that it fit her like satin-velvet collar. "I think I'd like that, though I don't have any specific twoleg to call my own. Just a bunch'a housefolk that like feedin' me on their doorstep every now and then." ​
skyclan · he/him · penned by cuzn · tags​
 

Twitchpaw's words made the tom pause. Thoughtful before he allows a chuckle to leave his throat. Right right. "Well, when you live on the streets you get many names, Twitchpaw." Comes with the territory he thinks. His real name isn't Skittles. That is the name given to him ky a young twoleg he lost long ago. But he prefers it, loves it dearly and it keeps those memories alive. Still it id understandable and confusing to have so many names that others can call one by. Flicking his thick tail he then glances towards Deersong before turning molten silver eyes back on the stranger. "Well, that's awesome. I'm sure Blazestar wouldn't mind it. He's always opened pawed ya know. Best guy around." He smiles brightly as he turns to beckon the guy onward to meet Blazestar.​
 
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