camp HONEY, I'M HOME ( ARRIVAL IN CAMP )

[BLOODY MARY]

The forest shakes like it knows what's comin'. Maybe it did! Maybe she— miniscule nobody atop an infinite world, simply was not given the pleasure of knowing what it knew. Neither was she given the pleasure of knowing what she gets to know. And- on and on and on like this. It could go on and on and on. There's power in every drag of her claws. Lumbering, this gait of hers. It always has been, always would be, especially today, as she tests the limits of her bug's bite... Would she be swatted away by Gaia's own tail? Who knew what power was baked in the veins of this place... Must be somethin' good, to garner such a following. She was this third, extra step; following the followers. She could multitask, though. Would, if they so demanded it.

Did her friend still think her a demon, with the way she breaches the barrier? A gap in the bramble was clawed out clearly for cats, and yet she maneuvers with all the grace of a defeathered bird. Partway stumbles- oh, she feels as if her ghost of a tail was dragging behind her still, snagging on the bramble... A wedge-head breaches the surface, somehow thin and burly all at once.

This place is grand. Grand in how make-believe it is. An elaborate game, but wasn't everything? She could be competitive when need be. It depends what it is, what she wants. She scored her goal without claws today. A wonder to decipher, just how she'd made the marks, in that case... Knives in her eyes, maybe. Convinced them with just a look.

Canid jaws taste their air, so different from the sterile stuff she was accustomed to... A hundred scents bleed their way into her parted maw. It comes to her with a rush. She's greedy as she breathes it in. A grub like her could afford to be greedy. " You all grow like weeds, " she remarks with a snort. A grey gaze flickers bone-quick to every hunk of meat she can see. Excitement primes her fangs for biting. Yeah, she likes it here. Likes it a lot. " He-llo SkyClan! " That voice of hers suddenly pitches into a bark. " It's me- Me and my friend. You'll have us, won't you? " She isn't too certain herself of when Edmund had gone from guy to friend. Well- obviously, between now and then... Good enough answer, sure.

She's in some shock, still, that she need not honor their pact in blood... Their ashen dog here would've made a lovely rug, too. Right- they don't realize. Uh... Don't realize the pointlessness. Funny. " Who do I bow to, then? "

THEY SAY I CAN'T KEEP MYSELF FROM TRYING ⬪ 𝒜 𝐵𝐼𝒯𝐸 𝒪𝐹 𝐸𝒱𝐸𝑅𝒴𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒩 𝒮𝐼𝒢𝐻𝒯 / ( 10 . 15 )

• OOC. Woe, Freakpocalypse upon ye... she's with @EDMUND @DOEBLAZE & @SILVERSMOKE at least! No need to wait, though :)

• 
  BLOODY MARY ⬪ KITTYPET. SHE - HER - HERS. 24 MOONS.
  

  A dog-like woman. Large, with bulk in some places, and only lean muscle in others. Elegant at some angles, acutely strange looking at others. Has a longer, wolfish muzzle and gleaming dog teeth near-always on display due to an overbite. Skull presses insistent against her skin. Eyes are almost too - large, and not all sunken in her skull. Has large, tufted ears. Polydactyl, with a curved spine and recently-chopped tail.

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[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft's eyes light up the moment she spots that familiar pelt walking into camp. They decided to come after all! She wasn’t sure if she’d see him again so soon, but here he is! A surge of excitement swells in her chest as her paws instinctively carry her forward, her usual composure slipping as she trots over with her tail raised in a warm greeting. "Edmund!" She calls, voice bright with joy.

She's about to ask them how they’ve been when her gaze lands on the stranger walking with him and the SkyClanners. The odd she-cat - large, lumbering, and undeniably strange - demands attention. Butterflytuft blinks, trying to make sense of her presence, and her pelt ripples uneasily for reasons she can’t quite describe. The stranger's voice rings out, confident and commanding, with an almost mocking edge. The queen’s excitement falters just slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes.

Still, the glow of seeing Edmund tempers her uncertainty. She stops in front of them, her fur prickling slightly as the strange kittypet speaks of SkyClan like it's something to be conquered, but the tortoiseshell forces herself to focus on her friend. “It’s so good to see you again!" She purrs, her voice filled with genuine warmth. Then she glances again at the she-cat beside him, curiosity overcoming her unease. "And, um, welcome," She adds, her tone polite, though still puzzled. "Who's your friend?"

Her gaze flits between Doeblaze and Silversmoke, wondering how this strange kittypet had ended up with them. She swallows and takes a cautious step backward, her eyes narrowing slightly, unsure how to respond to the stranger’s loud proclamation. Her jagged grin and eyes that appear too large for her head make her look more like a predator than an ally, and the cowardly she-cat finds herself shrinking back uncomfortably.
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[KITESTORM]

✦​

Kitestorm grooms her dark fur to perfection, smoothing it down to hide the crisscross of scars from their life left behind. Their maw twitches slightly upwards as they imagine gaining many more in defense of their clan, it is an imagining that brings them a certain measure of glee- in battle Kitestorm will surely gain much respect. Dark legs stretch outwards as Kitestorm ceases their grooming and decides to sunbathe instead. It is not often Kitestorm feels comfortable enough to be able to let loose as they do in this moment, but day by day they've grown more trustworthy of their clanmates. The moment of tranquility is brief. The peace is shattered by a pitchy, unfamiliar voice. Swiftly, Kitestorm's head shoots upwards and swivels upon the small patrol accompanied by two strangers.

They're unconcerned by the one name Edmund; if Butterflytuft knows them then they are harmless and likely a coward such as herself. Instead Kitestorm targets the strikingly pale cat. The tabby saunters over on the heels of Butterflytuft. Kitestorm does not give the strange one the polite distance they afford their clanmates, instead the tabby closes in and inhales hungrily, tasting the scent that clings the strange newcomer. As they do they flick a glare upwards at the much taller cat before huffing- this is but a kittypet, but this deduction does not comfort them. Her grandiose way of speaking simply reminds Kitestorm too much of their equally theatric sister. And so Kitestorm does not like her despite the fact just two moons ago they may have attempted to befriend someone so screwy.

They back away and give the newcomers distance, Kitestorm recalls how overwhelming it was their first time in camp. Olive hues search Doeblaze's face for any hint that the she-cat may hold the same opinion about the white joiner... does Skyclan just welcome anyone? "You won't need... to bow," Kitestorm answers her softly, voice void of opinion about her or much emotion at all. "But it will be... amusing... if you do." With that, Kitestorm puffs their chest out and shrugs; all they wanted was to relax but now they presume it'll be all afternoon that they must tolerate the chatterbox until she (hopefully) leaves to return home to her Twolegs. But even then she will return and be a constant reminder of Vixen. I will tell Florabreeze to keep her distance. She is probably just as deranged.

YOU'VE OPENED THE GATES ╔═══《✧》═══╗ NOW FACE THE OTHER SIDE

•  
• 
  KITESTORM
  — a black tabby with a small stature and compact muscles. they're perceptive & clever and very in touch with clanmates. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable. very soft spoken and careful with their words.
  ✧ 39, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC
  ✧ speech

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[Florabreeze]

It's a pleasant day, the chill of leaf-fall settling in and her coat starting to feel thicker in response. She had been chatting off a warriors ear about what special treat her twolegs had brought home that night. It was a difference from her usual kibble so she considered this to be really exciting. It shouldn't be something that she yaps about with this much passion, it's something that they wouldn't get since they're a full time warrior, clan born and what not. She had made it her goal today to show the other side so to speak, since she could still taste the purée meat in the gaps between the grooves of her fangs.

A bone chilling shrill of a voice fills the camp, paired with the scent that only kitty pets carry she unfortunately knows very well who just walked into the camp. Excusing herself from the conversation she is quick to try and figure out where who she assumed was a new joiner had disappeared to. There is a conflicting mixture of emotions as she sees that stranger is alongside Edmund of all cats. She looks to Butterflytuft and beams, a smirk coming to settle on her maw. Hopefully she's excited to see him, judging by her warm tone and purr she would have to assume that her friend was elated.

The lead warrior brushes her tail against Kitestorm's spine with a quiet purr. "Edmund! Hi! Finally joining?" Her own call is shrill, focusing on the positives here first rather than turning her attention to the new she-cat gathered here. Citrine gaze tries to assess the patrol gathered for any kind of injuries, knowing that when she had the... interesting experience of meeting her in Twolegplace she had nearly been bowled over.

"Thought I'd never see you around here" she muses towards the white she-cat with a chuckle. There's a guarded edge to her tone despite her usual pleasantries. There's a tingle to her paw from when she last striked the phantom of a kittypet. If she was here, alongside Edmund then she must have passed Doeblaze and Silversmoke's initial judgements. Maybe this means that her own assesment of her was wrong, she would be reluctantly willing to accept it if so.

"Not attacking random cats anymore then?" She squints, keeping her tail against her mate as some kind of protection- or was it reassurance? She isn't sure. An unusual tense beat passes from her before she laughs, willing to hold off on an interrogation until she could pull the spectre away privately. "Welcome to SkyClan, both of you!" Playing the role of the welcomer, especially to kittypets was something that she strived to be even if she held grievances.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Somethings coming ﻬ𖧧ﻬ So out of breath ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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• 
  FLORABREEZE 𖧧 She/her || Daylight Lead Warrior of SkyClan || 37 moons
  ❥ A large black tabby maine coon with low white and bright green eyes, always wearing her mushroom print collar if she can.
  ❥ Mentored by Sorrelsong ／Mentoring Jellypaw & Sfogliatella
  ❥ “Speech”, thoughts, attacking
  ❥ Penned by Juice ⏐ouijeejuice on discord {open to being dmed for plots}
  

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[EDMUND]

My friend, she called them. And Edmund wasn't really sure that described whatever relationship they had with this assailant, but- it was a bit weird, wasn't it? Just a bit? But maybe he should be grateful for this sort of entrance ... made him somewhat more memorable, and if he'd gotten a friend out of it, was there much to complain about? Still - they couldn't halp but feel like something had leeched right onto his skin, taking all the good luck he tried to gather in his life and, er... feasting on it like some, some ravenous thing.

Butterflytuft had his ears perking up- oh, it was good to see her again, softening the hard edges of what had been this entire afternoon. The smile he gave her was a slightly breathless, bewildered one- it shone with odd eyes, and he wobbled a little bit. Oh, but the groud was there, and this hadn't all been some weird dream, even though it bloody seemed like it. He greeted Butterflytuft, then Florabreeze with a bright smile. Finally joining, then?

"Yeah, uh, I decided to have a crack at that.. joining thing," he said, polite smile showing his teeth a little. "Felt like the right thing to do. Er, this is...." and their tongue clicked against the roof of their mouth as they looked over to his, uh, new friend, apparently. God, she was a bit doggish, and- it'd all stunk of dog when he'd helped Butterflytuft out that one time.

And he realised his impoliteness, then. Or, well, could anyone blame him? No, no- had to be impoliteness, because you were supposed to ask for names, weren't you? He'd get some sort of... repentance for that, probably. Might trip on the way home. "Sorry, I actually- I didn't catch her name. She just, um- we ran into each other..." And he blinked at his new friend, the demon... "Er, sorry, i never asked what you were called..."​

penned by pin ❤​

 

[budkit]

She trails not far behind her mother, wide sapphire eyes fixated not on the friend Butterflytuft speaks to, but on the large lumbering feline beside them. Wielding a commanding presence and dripping with boldness, Budkit finds herself intrigued. Who are you? She wonders as she stands beside the timid tortoiseshell, kinked tail brushing against monarch flank protectively.

Curious gaze scans Bloody Mary from the tips of her ears to her… toes! “Hey!” Budkit squeals, her kittenish features cracking into an excited grin that has been hibernating since Dawnglare’s death, “we are the same!” She holds up a multitoed front paw earnestly. It’s uncommon to find cats with extra toes so Budkit makes it a point to celebrate her similarities where she can.

And oh, she should not be rude. There’s another new body flanking the doggish moggy. One her mother speaks to fondly. It sends a trickle of jealousy down her spine, but Budkit tries to shake off the feeling. Butterflytuft is a friendly soul, just like her seal point daughter. It’s okay for her to have friends. Budkit turns her attention to Edmund now and cocks her head to the side. The point kit has heard of an ‘Edmund’ before, however she has never had a face to connect to the name. “You are Edmund?” Budkit asks quietly – almost sheepishly all of the sudden. “‘m Budkit! Mama said you hewp-helped save me when I was soooo little!” The shyness evaporates a bit, replaced with a warm smile as the kit moves to lean against Butterflytuft affectionately.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft’s smile only grows as she returns all of her attention to Edmund. “Oh, that’s wonderful news,” She mews softly, sunflower eyes brightening. Getting to see her friend much more often now is certainly a comfort. The tenderness in her gaze lingers on Edmund for a heartbeat longer, but then lets her eyes drift toward the other newcomer again.

The tortoiseshell queen straightens herself, drawing in every ounce of courage she can muster, and dips her head politely to the frightening kittypet. "Welcome to SkyClan," She says, trying her best to sound warm, though her voice comes out thin. If she’s here with Edmund, she’s sure it'll be all right…right? Her eyes flit briefly to Doeblaze, silently hoping for some kind of confirmation. When Edmund admits that he doesn't know the she-cat's name, Butterflytuft blinks, a small flash of uncertainty sparking within them. "Oh," She murmurs, trying to mask the surprise that flares on her face. "Well, um…” Her gaze flickers to the strange she-cat. "May we know your name?"

When Budkit brushes against her, she lifts her chin just a little higher and lets her smile return, softer this time. Finally, the two get to meet. “Yes, Budkit…this is the cat I told you so much about. He carried you here when you were just the size of a mouse!” She purrs quietly, fond eyes flicking to gauge Edmund’s reaction. She remembers how badly he’d wanted to meet her now all these moons later.


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[BLOODY MARY]

See— now she's confused; flapping her wings about like a bird with a hole punched through its skull. Maybe it's wings were clipped too. Maybe some dog was drooling over them, right about now. Like a flower's petal— not even the whole stem— is the cat that calls at first. It makes sense that she knows her guy. They looked to be cut from the same brazen flank, small and dainty-like. Now that grub isn't sure what made something anything at all. Could she really not judge the insides by its skin? So... nothing to do with meat or muscle, then. All about that corpse-stench. One that'd be hers soon, she bets. She's so tiny, this one feels it's only appropriate to swing her head down for a look. " You are so cuh-yute! " She wants to like, feed her seeds or something. " And spotless! They must be keeping you in a cage. " And if not, Bloody Mary wouldn't mind doin' it for her, heh.

The little mouse doesn't answer her question. Someone else does, though. The thing is— her question isn't even a question. She likes flapping her gums, though. " Yeah- I think you're right. " It'd amuse herself for sure! Or something like that, anyways. She's not the only maggot allowed to laugh, of course. She just has the biggest teeth of 'em all.

Excitement brims in grinning fangs. She has so much to dig her teeth into, she'd nearly forgotten. Clan cat, this woman. Big brute; a skull as white as hers, but banged up with her time here, surely. Wolf's nostrils flare. Could it possibly grin any wider. " You thought about me? " If she was a different sort, maybe she'd bat her lashes. It's not any lack of effort on her part- just the limitations of a face like hers. Squinting eyelids strain across bug-eyes. The push about the slime along their surface. Something weird happens in her throat, like she tries to purr but doesn't know how. " Been thinking about you. Uh- a lot " Her breaths come doglike through her nose, thick with something. She's dangling string in front of her. Of course a creature made to pull is gonna want to pull it. Her claws itch in her sheathes. She giggles, " Not randoms anymore, us. "

She's not really listening to anyone else anymore. There's a jitter to her eyes as she looks to the big one. The catch she really wanted. Edmund says... uh, somethin'. Her ears are big enough to catch a sliver. " Mm? " She dares a step forward. For the burly one, obviously.

But hey- now there's an even tinier mouse by the first one's side. A predator loses its focus. Squealing, smiling, we are the same? A dog-head lolls to the side. Tinier mouse means tinier brains she guesses. She's about to tell her how wrong she is. Mary would eat her. It wouldn't even be close. But she's holdin' up her paw... oh. A larger set returns the gesture, splaying all seven of her toes. " Good eyes! Good ones. A bit too big for your head maybe? " Yeah, of all grubs, she could point this out. " I'll let you keep 'em, though. Good deeds, I do plenty of 'em. "

Look at her, getting welcomes. It's what she wants. All she's ever wanted. Well, that's a lie; but it's what she wants right now. Huh, names. Uttered more than once, names She needs to fit in, yeah. Can't remember what she had told, uh, that other one, though... " Name? Yeah... Call me uh, Demise's Purveyor. " That's a pretty good one, she thinks.

THEY SAY I CAN'T KEEP MYSELF FROM TRYING ⬪ 𝒜 𝐵𝐼𝒯𝐸 𝒪𝐹 𝐸𝒱𝐸𝑅𝒴𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐼𝒩 𝒮𝐼𝒢𝐻𝒯 / ( 10 . 15 )

• OOC.

• 
  BLOODY MARY ⬪ KITTYPET. SHE - HER - HERS. 24 MOONS.
  

  A dog-like woman. Large, with bulk in some places, and only lean muscle in others. Elegant at some angles, acutely strange looking at others. Has a longer, wolfish muzzle and gleaming dog teeth near-always on display due to an overbite. Skull presses insistent against her skin. Eyes are almost too - large, and not all sunken in her skull. Has large, tufted ears. Polydactyl, with a curved spine and recently-chopped tail.

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[Cloverjaw –]

FOR LIFE I GAMBLE LOVE
cloverjaw | 44 months | trans male | he/him | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold #cf9748

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Cloverjaw has, apparently, missed the beginning of the makeshift meeting. Not that it matters- even from where he's at in the warrior's den, he's sure he can hear it all, anyway. The voice is shrill, and loud, and more than enough to pull him to his paws and toward the entrance of camp, where it had come from.

The owner of the voice is big. And that's not an issue- Cloverjaw has seen his fair share of bigger cats, is a bigger cat- but something about this stranger is more than enough to make him stop in his tracks, just for a second. The stranger reminds him more of a dog than a cat, in both mannerisms and her face alone.

He doesn't like to pass judgement, not without reason and especially not this early, but there's something unsettling about the new arrival, and it's easier to decide that he doesn't like her.

A huff of air leaves him before he bridges the gap between himself and the clanmates already gathered, eyes focused on this she-cat, and ears perked. It seems she's not entirely a stranger, and it also seems that some of his clanmates are just as unnerved as Cloverjaw himself is.

"How did you find out about Skyclan?" Despite his misgivings, it's easy enough to sound friendly- at least for now.

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