hysteria — & RETURN + MEETING

[BOAR]

---

Since coming here the strange cats all around have made her worried. Caused fear to slip into her heart and she attempts to try and be comfortable but all the faces are daunting. Her overly large paws cause her to trip over herself a little as she quickly looks to find Caraway. Her eyes are wide at the booming and angry voice that she hears from the tom that is speaking to the gathered group of cats. Taking in quick breaths the child quickly ducks underneath some cats and carefully squished herself between others before she finally lays eyes upon her parent. Quickly she makes her way towards them and she settled herself against their side, eyes closing for a moment before the tom is speaking again and then addressing Caraway. Pointing them out. It bothers the youngster and she fiddles with her paws before looking to the tom before quickly looking away.

Trying to understand what any of this is about.
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[willowroot]

( ♬ ) they're barely listening to the justification of the man's actions, though their forest hued eyes narrow and flash at the mention of their name. he addresses them, fully calling them out in front of the entire clan as if they've ever been at fault, as if this is not simply the same story repeated. someone gets their land stolen and fights break out. it's history repeating itself. their baleful gaze is trained on the tom as he paces, tail lashing, but their mind is still made up. they've been forced from one home before. they will not loose another. somehow, buck will come around. somehow, this will turn out right. warmth at their side, they curl a paw around the child who rests there, protection flaring in their chest. for now, they spare a glance toward corvid, recognizing his fighting spirit, before their voice rings out. "i am here because you spoke of safety for a child i now call my own. my kin is here and has been here for moons before you arrived. i am not leaving this place. mark me as a riverclanner if you must. but know that if my family is harmed under your leadership, then you have offered empty words." they step forward on slender legs, head tipped up to the man. "i give you my trust for now. you said good things last we met, and i will go into this knowing that you have your clan's best interest at heart. my loyalty is with the river, always, and if you are at its head, then so be it." mouth snapping shut in a thin line, they await the reaction. their words are calm and measured but fire sparks in their chest.

this is not the riverclan they hoped to join. this is not the peaceful place raccoon spoke of. this is a storm flooded land, winter's icy breath roughing the waters. caraway will continue on. they always have. ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[SMOKESTAR]

Very hard to not notice the gathered crowd of cats, he had been fishing for perhaps too long out in the morning son and was just now bringing the last of the silvery trout he'd snagged up back to camp. This one, the plumpest of them, he would take to Silverfoot and Ashkit most likely. He still was wrapping his head around the new structure of life, the way the group was being molded and farmed by the stars themselves; but he could say with utmost certainty that many of the changes were welcome. A more compact group, closer knit, prioritizing those unable to defend themselves and caring for them despite their inability to give back at the time or any longer. Ember was fond of it, a farcry from the blood and individuality that once claimed the sweeping lands of the forest, reaching out even into the concrete two-leg hovels where cats killed one another for the smallest scraps of food. No, he didn't think he would go back to such barbaric displays-welcomed the shift that made cats closer even if he didn't fully understand it or how to hold himself in regards to it.
So it was with interest he dropped his fish to take to the queen later and made his way over, the filament strands of previous discussion lingering in the air long enough for him to catch the jist of what he had missed. The border closed to kittypets and loners, their leader hand-picked for them by StarClan itself a bloodied mess heaving above them with the decree that fell on mixed emotions. Ember narrowed his eyes in thought, dark ears pricked up and swiveling back as he took it all in with one sharp inhale. While he felt he could sense the unease and knew why, Ember didn't seem particularly bothered. Yes, he was loner born-everyone here was lonerborn to some sense. Before the clans, there was only loose pockets of cats scattered around in disordely ways and most kept to themselves. If they were to make some kinda of structure, be guided in some way...it made sense to make a meaningful stance for now. Cicadastar seemed...paranoid. Rightly so. One couldn't condemn the other tom for his behavior when nerves were sensitive and feelings sharp. Again he wished he had been present for the battle, wished that he had seen the seams be torn apart and sewn aknew-perhaps then he would understand more.
But for now he only had himself to fall back on and he lashed his tail once dismissively. They were given a leader, so he'd follow that leader. It was as simple as that.

​

riverclan --- warrior--- tags

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : caraway calls out, their voice steady despite everything and his head lifts, peering down his sloped nose at the smoke felidae. she speaks of family and his ears flick backward, tail giving a single, steady lash. he would ensure their safety should she ensure the clan's own, and only time would tell -- for both of them. thunder rolls distantly over the greying horizon, as they speak, wind beginning to rustle the bicolored curls along his lithe figure.

" so be it. " he repeats back to her, tone absent before his head tosses towards the crowd around him," then from now on, you will all wear your loyalty aloud. i, cicadastar, leader of riverclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon these cats and all they've done, and as such, grant them their names -- by the power of starclan, " his voice is loud, unwavering despite its weakness. his vision finally settles on caraway once again, "caraway, from now on, you will be known as WILLOWROOT. " fitting, for the tree in which their family had lived, " rory is to be MORNINGSKY, and semper is to be WOLFRUSH. mud will be MUDPELT, ice will be ICESPARKLE and gull will be GULLHEART. lightning, you are to be LIGHTNINGSTONE. " the mottled tom pauses to take a breath, dizziness beginning to blur his vision. exhaustion, surely. his limbs ached, claws digging into rotten wood to prevent his wavering from becoming visible, " mahi - mahi, you are to be CASCADESONG AND clay, you are to be CLAYFUR. ruddy will be REDFOG. "

pale blue luminaries search the rippling crowd, their bristling fur and wide eyes, "corvid, you will now be CORVIDTONGUE. silver, you are to be SILVERFOOT and brook is to be BROOKFEATHER. " his skull aches, pounding at the temples rising in tempo until his head bows, jaw clenching and teeth gritting. tired . . tired . . "ember will be SMOKETHROAT and otter, you will be OTTERPOP. clay, you will take the name CLAYDUST. " it sounds hollow, pained, wobbling with effort and his mind draws blank. darkness, enveloping the edges of his vision in spots of bubbling black, " and that's. . that's all. you're . . dismissed. " panting, the man makes to leap from the log, landing heavily at the base below and hissing through clenched teeth as a result. his body was heavy, the slopes of his figure pounding in misery, and it felt too much, suddenly. the agony ; trauma both physical and mental, the toll of walking with starclan and the subsequent attack after. his energy was gone, drained, and he feels all too light before he has the forethought to speak on it. he only hopes beesong hadn't gotten far, " scheisse. "

the riverclan leader falls, unconscious before he hits the ground.

out of character information translations

• let me know if i missed anyone or anything!
• − CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
  − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
  − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers
  
  
• scheisse: shit

​

​

 

[QUIETSTREAM.]

quiet had watched the ceremony, sure, but made sure to keep their distance. had cicadastar not been the one speaking, she doesn't think she would of showed up at all. too loud. too many voices she doesn't trust. so many scents she doesn't feel comfortable around. it's just too much. but she focuses on his. they have to admit, they're terrified for him. so much on his shoulders. and also... bits of jealousy. how many kits could her papa possibly adopt. they were supposed to be the only one, and now... whoever they were ( no matter what anyone said ), those weren't quiet's siblings. they just didn't trust anyone enough to get that close. no one but cicada.

frowning, quiet gently cleaned her pelt, gaze occasionally flicking back to the leader before they pause. why does he look so rugged and out of breath? quiet is more observant than anyone ( though this is a personal opinion of theirs ), spending a lot less time talking and more time watching. she's watched cicadastar a lot, and knows that whatever this is... isnt him. a shell of himself, filled with exhaustion in the form of little bags under his eyes, fur that he tried to make simmer down and line against himself, but he's missed a lot of spots. even in his staning position, hes not standing as tall as he normally does. quiet lashed their tail behind them, biting the inside of their lip, taking it all in. clearly, cicadastar wasnt okay.

and they were right. as soon as he finished the meeting, those last few steps were too much. he collapses to the ground, making quiet stand up almost immediately, stomach tightening in worry. she's first to reach him, and she only frowns at his body, and almost reaches out to touch him before they freeze. on instinct, they freeze with their paw hovering above his body, eyes widening as flashbacks of her biological parents return to her in a force she isn't ready for. scrambling back, she muffles down a scream, or a cry for help, slapping a paw over their muzzle to keep hushed, eyes darting back in forth in fear. of all the cats to pass out, why did it have to be cicada.
​

[ WISH YOU WERE GAY ]​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

Now there was a name. His eyes briefly flickered upward from their intense stare off to the side at the sound of his name and then he looked up more proper when he heard his new one. Was that how it would be then? New names for a new life, for a new structure. It was something to think about-how he had taken Ember and warped it into smoke: was it some kind of judgement or an observation of his appearance, it was hard to determine but surely it held some kind of meaning. Perhaps it was a means to subdue him, he knew he could be quite the aggressor when pushed but he hardly burned those that deserved it. Smoke though, smoke was far more threatening than even fire. Embers were small, needed to catch in order to grow and spread but smoke did so effortlessly. Even the smallest flame could send a billowing cloud skyward.
He thought briefly about his mother, how she named him hoping he would survive like a stray ember in the wind and now he was an obscuring mask of fog that expanded and would choke those that did not heed his presence. It was both fitting and ironic.
Ember-no, Smokethroat looked up from his silent musings in alarm at the thump of a body hitting the ground, his fire and brimstone gaze moved from Cicadastar's motionless form to Beesong on instinct before drifting back as Quiet acted first. He was still breathing, there was a faint rise and fall of motion that deemed as such and given he had no penchant for medicine he did the only rational thing; he hung back.
Smokethroat rose stiffly to stand, moved over to stand a careful distance from Quiet's shivering and panicked form and spoke with a tone that maintained his almost monotonous droll with an edge of softness he didn't often spar cats, "He's alive-he's alive and in the safety of camp with a healer right here. He'll be fine. Breath Quiet, slow and deep breaths." The dark tom made no attempt to touch her, recalling how flighty she was the first time they met but his presence lingered just nearby as he turned sharply to the other cats around. If Cicadastar had the energy to give his speech, he was not so near death as to be terribly alarmed but thankfully there were cats more knowledgeable than he nearby to handle this. "Don't crowd him." Was all he said, a warning to allow Beesong to work and choose whose paws might offer him aid in his efforts once he began.

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riverclan --- warrior--- tags

 

[ICESPARKLE]

So much happened at once and the molly stood blinking as voices swam and Cicadastar called out her name right after her mate's. New names, they were given new names - Icesparkle and Mudpelt and her brother was to be called Clayfur. It all went so fast that she was even more surprised (or perhaps not, to be honest, Cicadastar wasn't exactly looking great) when the leader collapsed and Quiet and Smokethroat (newly named Ember) were by the tom's side at once, to aid him she surmised.
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[willowroot]

( ♬ ) they accept their name with a curled lip and a nod. it's not something they want, but if it must be done, at least the name is symbolic. vaguely they wonder what buck will think, but this thought is interrupted as the spitting voice calls the meeting to a close and the imposing figure collapses. springing to their paws, willowroot arches up to see what is going on before glancing around for beesong. the newly named smokethroat jumps into action, comforting the panicking quiet. wil has no healing skills, nothing that may help in this situation, so they turn back towards their charge, sweeping their tail around boar and ushering her away from the commotion. she'll process this all later. ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )