pafp INSTRUMENT OF SURRENDER | reappearance

[FERNDANCE]

When the bear had arrived at camp, she had disappeared from view, obscured by the great presence of the angry ursine and its young cub, presumed to be dead or alive depending on who was asked (if anyone even had). Hours had turned into days, days turned into a long, long week but eventually, the smell of ShadowClan grew stronger than ever in the nostrils of the great hunter. Long shadows cast themselves on the walls of the great Thunderpath tunnels, catlike at first before they moved closer together and contorted into something beastly, with eight legs and two tails and a singular, uncanny head. As the shade melted into the corner, Ferndance's head peered around the corner of the infrastructure, eyes wide with an innocent glee as the shapes of all those she'd ever known came into view. StarClan, she'd found them! She offered a feral smile and, with her chest puffed out like a proud rooster's, she let out a trill "Roar!" to alert the others of her presence. Her white paw was tinted with scarlet, cracked in texture like dried mud. Blood from a battle of days gone by, but it wasn't her own.

She raised her tail and swung it to the right, commanding an invisible patrol to come to her side. She looked back and gestured again, this time with her head, for a young cat to come forwards. "This isn't usually our home, I would've thought they'd have gotten rid of the bear by now." She explained quietly, eyes somewhat struggling to find the obsidian creature through the darkness of the tunnel, even as Loki stood right next to her. Perhaps it was wishful thinking for a creature of great strength and tenacity to be removed so quickly, Ferndance hadn't even tried. The fact did not weigh heavily on her, Chilledstar had given an order to run and, reminded of how soon her clanmates had left her behind in ThunderClan, she did just that. It was a karmic revenge that settled the matter for good, no more would she have to worry about that debt remaining unpaid. It fell to the back of her mind, though the Lead Warrior had yet to decide if that was because she'd truly forgotten about it, or if she was just too happy to be back to care about all the wrongs of the past. A sudden thought caused her to jolt her head towards the crowd.

"Oh, don't be scared by him," she cooed, the him in question a young, dark-haired cat with a head even more wedge-shaped than her own. "This is my son." There was no hesitation as she spoke, no semblance of her usual tells (a mischievous smile, a quirk of brows that scarcely existed). This was her son, and damned would be those who questioned the Lead Warrior about it.


​

 

[TADPOLEPAW]

The Thunderpath isn't unfamiliar to him. He's been in the bellies of the great beasts who follow its yellow-dotted paths, often to the unsavory ends of the cutter's den (the cutter has never lived up to its name, thankfully). But never has he trembled beneath their great migratory paths, surrounded on all sides by bitter rumbling, with only a stranger to lead him through the fog of noise. Only a few days ago had Loki sprinted a foolish bid for freedom, then been startled into the wilderness by a monster's sudden roar. A few days ago, he couldn't even begin to imagine being constantly plagued by the very same roars, like an acrid chorus of his mistakes, performed by dead monsters haunting the paths he stumbles through. Almond-shaped eyes, brilliant and jewel-like in the day, barely make out the outlines of his guide's ears, erect upon her narrow head as though impervious to the noise. Based on the few hours he's known her, perhaps she is.

Years seem to have passed in the form of swift and hidden beasts, but eventually their shared nightmare concludes. The first hint comes in the form of scent; one he essentially went his whole, short life without seeing, then overwhelmed with in the last few days. Light, dank and greasy, spills through the misshapen half-circle of their exit. Shadows hide his twitching tail and fluttering chest, but they can't mask the electric whisper running over his skin, adrenaline lifting the sleekness from obsidian pelt. "Roar!" Lanky legs nearly jump from their paws when Ferndance makes the first noise he's heard since they entered the tunnels.

Before he can snap round to give her a look (more confusion than indignation), a fawn-stripped tail swings into his path, crossing over twice the length of Loki's narrow shoulders. Green eyes turn back towards him, muzzle dipping in encouragement. It's funny how just a few hours of darkness and torment could make him forget how kind her eyes are, even knowing all her strange mannerisms. Maybe all of her "Clanmates" were like this. "The bear..." he quietly echoes. Gargantuan and dark-colored: that's all he knows about it. A lot like the tunnels they just trekked through, come to think of it. "I can't blame them."

One by one, the "them" comes to greet him. They stride forward on calloused paws and ruffled coats, creatures born of the pine forest themselves. A single, black paw shuffles backwards, as though second-guessing its decision to carry him here, but that's as much weakness as he feels justified in showing. Those cats that chased him into Ferndance's path weren't so welcoming; at least, they weren't simply content to stand there and ogle him. His ears grow hot under their stares. Short-snouted stares. Self-consciousness weighs his extremities down, lengthening his nose, his legs, stretching out his paws and his rat-like tail.

And then Ferndance calls him her son. Loki stiffens. For a split second, the shock jilts the emerald facets wedged in his face, sending pupils careening towards her. He calms in another moment—he has to. Perhaps Ferndance knew best, and there was a reason she didn't tell him of these plans in the first place, and there was no way this wasn't just a bid to keep him safe, right? Why would a cat spend such effort just to lure him into a death trap? The Oriental clears his throat and gives the ShadowClanners an awkward little smile. "Um, yeah. Hi, I'm Loki," he meows, forcing stability into a voice that longs to dance and quiver. "It's, uh, it's nice to meet you. I've, I've heard about you guys." Should I ask if I can join now? he stresses, gaze darting from face to flat face. Ferndance could take the lead. Or maybe someone would volunteer the question. If neither worked, well, he wasn't above begging for his life.
​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† Sharppaw had kept her head down, when the bears invaded. Tucked inside of Starlingheart's den along with a guiding paw– more than one, cats with sense about them who could goad her somewhere similar had made it seem like less of a fuss than it had been. Half - dead and eyes lidded. Head down, head down. That's all he had done. It'd been easy that way, to follow the pawsteps only for his bedriddenness to be moved elsewhere. He'd thought it'd been as simply for everyone, at first.

Some had gone missing, though.

Perhaps most notably at all, was Ferndance. Sabletuft had near immediately taken over as a more reliable head, though the tunnels had been sorely lacking in misinformation without care and irrelevant tangents. Not for much longer, though.

Sharppaw is lying on his side when he sees her. Brown ticked fur unceremoniously appears in front of her face. The walking corpse says roar.

What.

The motions of leadership have not left her, for her tail swings to reveal a pitch - black stranger. Ferndance's voice suddenly turns doting, and: This is my son. What?

Why did they look just as shocked as Sharppaw was??? Sharppaw rights herself, but does not run breathless to meet them. Gone for days– more than a couple. They'd been presumed dead probably dead? Something like that?. But Ferndance is the same as she always is, and now she has a son. Sharppaw could not muster a face that was anything but blankly confused if he tried.

They're introducing themselves now. Sharppaw's expression does not shift, because what the hell is going on? it's nice to meet you? They were doing this right now??

Sharppaw visibly takes the newcomer in, silver eyes passing over the wedge of their face down to their thin legs and whip tail, frowning all the while. " ...Huh? " Is the smartest response he can manage.​

 

[Yarrowpaw]

What was it with the adults of ShadowClan and returning home injured, with apparently no inclination to explain where they'd been or what had happened to them? Yarrowpaw stared in disbelief, trotting closer to the unexpected pair and pausing at Sharppaw's side, his blue eyes darting between the ever-bizarre Lead Warrior and her...son, apparently. They don't look very much alike. thought the chocolate tabby, studying Loki's skinny, elongated frame and thin tail, reminiscent of a rat's. He glanced back at his own tail - thick, striped with deep brown, and fluffy at its tip - and frowned at Ferndance. "That seems weird." announced Yarrowpaw after a long pause. "But okay....why is he here, though? And what happened to you?" he gestured at the she-cat's bloodied forepaw. After another pause, afraid of being rude, he offered Loki a small smile. "Erm, nice to meet you, too. We...haven't heard about you. My name's Yarrowpaw."​

 

[Magpiepaw]

"Poor tone, more volume, unimpressive." She just said the word 'roar', hardly a means to startle or earn her any compliment on her mimicry.
Ferndance returns to them, jester hat jingling; the fool lived and he rejoiced it for her blithering nonsense was no end of amusement and delight to the coal black and snow throated apprentice. Magpiepaw stops alongside Sharppaw to gree her, gaze drifting past to the dark shadow that fell in line behind her; a son. His blue-violet gaze widens in alarm, this was a new and sudden influx of knowledge he had no been prepared for; Starlingheart was yet to kit, neither was Forestshade and his learning of how kits came to be and how to assist their ascension into the world was untouched. He knew nothing and it was for this reason Loki, as he is introduced, baffles him. Not even a proper name, dropped callously upon them during a time of stride without nary any build up.
The apprentice did not even realize Ferndance had been pregnant, she'd had none of the common signs he now associated with it; the sudden enlargement of the midsection, the sickness, the irritable mood, some of these overlapped with cats who were never pregnant or would never be pregnant and it was annoying to parse but overall the combination had been a sound acknowledgement.
Yet here she stood, fully formed child and slim waisted; not a single indication otherwise. How? HOW.
His panicked uncertainty is interupted by pleasantries and Yarrowpaw's running mouth. Perhaps he should introduce himself back, it was polite after all.
"...it must have hurt." He comments dryly, unimpressed at now having to unravel this new mystery, "It is nice to meet you Loki, your name is stupid." Chilledstar would need to fix it, it was important to fall in line and mesh with the other cogs in the wheel. "I'm Magpiepaw." A name that wasn't stupid, for comparison. The apprentice's broken tail twitched behind him where he held it aloft, "I'm Starlingheart's apprentice, I'm learning medicine but if you get mauled by the harbringers that dwell within the wood now we can only offer you lavender and a vigil to mend your woes so please be careful."
If bear hit you, you die. Enough said on the matter.
​

 

[Starlingheart]

Their temporary camp is not exactly the most welcoming place. It was dank and it was loud. Voices echoed off the tunnel walls and above them there was the occasional loud rumble of a monster patrolling overhead, black paws taking them to an unknown destination faster than any cat ever could run. Still, life continues on as it always does. She lifts her head to look at the entrance to the tunnel when she hears words drift to her ears, the voice of her own apprentice included.

When she sees a stranger she feels alarmed. Strangers, in her experience, were rarely ever a good thing in ShadowClan but as she draws closer she gains more context clues. Whispered words float through the air. Ferndance and son among them.

She spends a moment observing the two's features, searching for similarities. She had never known Ferndance to be a mother, had never even thought the she-cat capable of such a thing and for a moment she can feel nothing but weariness. This stranger had apparently heard about them and Starlingheart cannot help but wonder how much. Had Ferndance been running off to some secret family and spilling her clans secrets this whole time? Just like Flcikerfire....

"I-I'm the afore-aforementioned Starlingheart" she says, dipping her head in a polite greeting, though her expression remains wary. She does not say more though, just looks over her shoulder to see if she could spot Chilledstar or Smogmaw in the crowd. They would know what to do.

​

 

[Needledrift]

Needledrift lets out a soft trill as Ferndance sways into her line of vision. She moves to bump her head against the lead warrior's shoulder - hello! I'm glad you're safe - before the arrival of the other. A young cat with a long face - Loki, as they are all informed. Ferndance's son, though Needledrift had never seen a rounded pouch on the odd she-cat before... and this cat also looked just a smidge too old to be a suckling babe. Needledrift sniffs at him, annoyingly and probably unwantedly close, sniffing for WindClan, ThunderClan, ShadowClan on his pelt. She steps back with nothing, only faintest whiff of dust and pine lingering on his coat, no doubt from travelling with his... mother?

She sits back on her haunches to press a paw to her face, massaging the point at which her jaw hinged together so to speak. "Yours.... and another clan cat?" Needledrift is cautious, trying her best not to sound accusatory, but the question is so prominent in her mind. Flickerfire is prominent in her mind. Surely, Ferndance wasn't of the same.... stuff..... right?​

she smells like lemongrass and sleep​

 

[GECKOSCREECH]

in the wake of all the chaos that has been happening for the last few days it's safe to say that geckoscreech had completely forgotten about ferndance, hell, she might've never even noticed her fellow lead warrior had gone missing in the first place if not for the sudden obnoxious trill that announced her return. all attention is suddenly turned towards the gaping maw of the entrance where the ticked tabby stands and hiding in her shadow is a face unfamiliar to all, a stranger by the name of loki. ferndance ensures everyone that there is nothing to be worried about when it comes to the boy because she is quick to claim him as her own which immediately causes a brow to twitch.

clanmates share equally confused looks and suspicion, introductions shared are stiff and wary and with good reason. geckoscreech's gaze sharpens when needledrift brings up whether or not this child was a product of some fling between her and another differing clan which spreads something sour upon her tongue. "you better have a good explaination ferndance." she says, tone steely and unimpressed by this whole fiasco. if ferndance was truly walking in the same pawsteps as flickerfire geckoscreech would not hesitate to chase both of them out if given the word. ​

∘₊✧ ONE LAST LIFELINE, I'M HANGING HIGH. ✧₊∘​

 

[FERNDANCE]

Creeping out from the dark of the tunnels, there was a brief moment where the Lead Warrior regarded the familiar faces not as clanmates, but as stalking beasts ready to snatch away her find. There was a twitch of her body as she positioned it sideways, tensing and moving closer to Loki as she prepared to cover for the stranger, then, relaxation when he was met with an incredulous response as opposed to an aggressive one. A good sign. It was not like she was introducing a hawk to a pack of rabbits, but with how fiercely the clans protected their land, that similar sentiment wasn't lost on her. It was a benefit of the nomadic life she missed, though losing stability in some areas, it was easy for travelers and passersby to come and go like the changing of the seasons. As for why she had led him to ShadowClan... "He's young, he should be allowed to join." Not everything needed justification and rationale, some things should just be allowed to be. Still, as the sets of eyes on her grew in volume, she let out a quiet sigh, realising it would not be enough. "He has nowhere else to go and... it would mean a lot to me?" Was that what grieving mothers said when faced with the possibility of being separated from their offspring again? She'd have to ask her white-masked mom the next time she was around.

She looked at Yarrowpaw and tucked her crusted forepaw further behind her forelimb. "I ran into some trouble on the Thunderpath... everything is fine and no one is going to die," she promised with a pause. "Probably." Magpie's critics of her bear noises caused large ears to flatten in a faux hurt, her pupils widening as she offered him sad, puppy dog eyes at the sentiment. She nodded, a solemn promise to try again, before bouncing back as if no such critiques has ever been offered.

More and more clanmates arrived, head tilting from one side of her body to the other as Starlingheart introduced herself to her makeshift son. It was a strange thing, to be believed straight away, the one time where perhaps it would've been better to have been caught in a lie. She rehearsed her tale on the spot, going over the description of the father and how she managed to hide a pregnancy all this time. There was a click of jaws snapping together, the corners of her mouth curling upwards like the cat that swallowed the canary as she stared toward Needledrift and Geckoscreech. A dangerous glint appeared beneath an emerald eye before flickering away in a slow blink. "Well when two cats love each other veeeeeery much-" she started as she peered at Geckoscreech, chuckling away the explanation. "I'm just kidding." Cats didn't have to love each other to have children, it was a gamble, one she hadn't played but still managed to steal the jackpot. Loki would be good to have around, Smogmaw and Chilledstar would see that once they noticed the way his pelt became one with the shadows. Geckoscreech, who showed no concern for her wellbeing, deserved no such justification. "Everyone's having kittens nowadays, right? I didn't want to take attention away from Halfshade and Betonyfrost so... secret Loki."

​

 

[TADPOLEPAW]

Once again, Loki finds himself surprised at the way Ferndance's body moves to protect him. He'd nearly been frightened out of his fur when he stumbled into her path, only a few days off the heels of the young moorland cat who ran him down. Ferndance's elongated shadow takes a step out of sync with her, encouraged by a reception not quite accepting but still kinder than the moors' welcome. The "huh?" of a darkly mottled feline makes his head turn, and it's there a little tawny tom speaks the words she might've wanted to say. Loki reflects the boy's faltering smile into a slightly more genuine one of his own. That's one friendly face at least. "Oh, uh, yeah, nice to meet you too, Yarrowpaw. I mean," He briefly glances away. "I haven't heard that much, just that there's a ShadowClan and it has, uh, a lot of cats..." he seems to ramble, trailing off upon the appearance of more cats and his "mother"'s continued insistence.

The shade can't help how his eyes widen the slightest as another feline walks, no, wobbles up to them. Knowing what little he knows about the cats that live in the wild, with only the treetops and their pelts to protect fragile flesh against an uncaring sky, he's surprised this one has made it this far. Loki could learn how to hunt, but this one seems entirely incapable. Perhaps he would be better off being led to Loki's twolegs, if he ever found a path back to them. He's startled once more by the bluntness in his voice; he almost expected a songbird's warble, like those he glimpsed at the feeders outside his perch. "...what?" He awkwardly laughs, whip-tail curling around his legs. "Magpiepaw" and "Yarrowpaw" were strange on his tongue too, but he wasn't going to say it. He supposes they have more jurisdiction to insult him, given that he's the lowest rung in the hierarchy at the moment. "What," he repeats flatly, but this time after the scruffy one has stopped spewing what almost seems like twoleg speech. Is he talking about the bears? he wonders, but nods mutely all the same. There was more than a significant chance that his peers couldn't understand him either.

Another cat, also smelling faintly of pungent grass, appears at Magpiepaw's side. She introduces herself as Starlingheart, and though he's not directly the cause, he feels a pang of guilt at the guarded shadows creasing her face. Had something happened last time a cat brought a stranger in? He looks to Ferndance, but she's happily turning towards the next two shadows coming to greet them, so he just gives her a smile that could be interpreted as apologetic. A cat with a misshapen jaw must rub at her jowls before ekking out her words, which he's quick to try and placate. "I...never really heard of the clans until now," he explains, which is true. "I don't really know my father that well," he adds, which is a lie. He's never known his father at all.

A sterner-looking cat is more confrontational with Ferndance, and she simply brushes her concerns off. What if that's not enough? he internally frets. Taking a small breath, the shadow steps forwards again, dipping his head low to the striped molly like he saw Starlingheart do. The action is stilted with unfamiliarity, but he hopes they see it as a gesture of trying to assimilate. "I don't mean any of you harm. I just need a place to stay, I've...been on my own for awhile, and-and my mother-" Calling anyone his mother knots his stomach, but he presses on. "-she found me again. I can learn to hunt and fight, just like you guys. I'll do anything, just please let me stay...?" Loki hopes it's convincing, hopes his wide eyes in comparison to his gaunt face will do something. It's not his first time begging for mercy, though this time it doesn't fall on entirely deaf ears. "Yeah, I...don't really have anywhere to go back to," he finishes lamely, letting bat ears droop. A mote of truth resonates in this last sentence; the sin creasing his face is entirely real.
​

 

[Needledrift]

Needledrift blinks at the black cat - kitten? - her green eyes soft and apologetic. Never knew of the clans... doing some quick math in her head, Needledrift could surmise that if this really was somebody that Ferndance gave birth to (where would she have hidden her belly though?) then technically, she wouldn't have broken the warrior code by having them.... seven?.... moons ago? It was hard to pinpoint an age where such a long, severe face such as theirs. But, seven moons plus the two moons it takes for kittens to be born, surely Ferndance wouldn't be punished for breaking a law that hadn't been codified until after she allegedly got pregnant.... right?

The gray she-cat turns her gaze towards Geckoscreech. As the highest ranking warrior among them, surely she would decide whether or not it would be worth it to fetch Chilledstar for this.​

i will never leave your room, tell everything that bothers you​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

"so long as you can learn, and you promise to help this clan with all that it is you can offer, then you will not be turned away."

their voice carries not even the slightest bit of emotion. it's so monotone that it's almost terrifying, as they stare at their lead warrior and the young kit she manages to call her son. they don't believe it, but they're not even fully on this plane of existence at the moment. they can't be bothered to answer, nor to turn away a cat so young. they stop short of touching their mate, but parts of them don't even know that geckoscreech is there. it is simply by pure muscle memory that they've ended up beside her, and they only slowly blink.

"what can you do, kit? fight? hunt? stalk at night? you will not be left alone but you will not get to live here for nothing, either."

their monotonous voice speaks, yet they're barely listening. they're not even sure where they are or how they got here. they can barely fully see the kit, but it matters not. they've already decided, somewhere in there, that they will allow him to be a shadowclanner. with all of the ones they were losing... who cared if one more was added to their ranks?

"the kit's your responsibility, ferndance. i expect him to become an upstanding shadowclanner. and not by your standards, but by mine."

they don't wait for an answer. they turn away and head back to the tunnels, disappearing without another word.
​

 

[TADPOLEPAW]

Once more, something moves in the shadows. Loki glimpses first a thin streak of white, like a sustainted bolt of lightning in miniature, held captive in the walls of the tunnel. Another brilliant movement, so vivid he scarcely believes he didn't notice them first, and a pair of ice-veined eyes glower in the bolt's white-hot trail. He may or may not have heard of Chilledstar; he has surely never seen a cat this intense yet dulled, sharp yet haggard, every hair on their pelt commanding the air around them. Lurid eyes dart from face to face, watching them shadow themselves in the wake of what isn't a particularly intimidating creature. Their white-painted jaw hinges, and bone-dry words creak from the frozen socket. I...yes! He longs to affirm this creature, kneel upon his own words, anything to get the wintry stare off his back before it freezes him over too.

Even though they don't speak for several more breaths, the measured blink of their eyes indicates they have more. "What can you do, kit?" What can I do? It's a blessing his lies had already been spoken, for they would've dried up on his tongue otherwise. He couldn't fight off the molly on the moors, who had been smaller than him by a claw-length or two. He starved till he'd smacked right into Ferndance, either on the run from hunger-induced delusions or simply too exhausted to see where he stepped. The last requirement is one that leaks a small ray of hope between his ribs, smothered by all the trials previous. Stalking doesn't seem to the kittypet unknown as too much of a skill. If there's one thing his parents had gifted him now, it would be his night-swept pelt: their fearless leader said night stalking after all. Wedge-shaped head nods vigorously, the fact that they barely seemed to acknowledge the words they spoke either unknown to uncared for.

He glances at Ferndance without turning his head when she's acknowledged. He waits for the feline to say more, but they don't. They just turn tail and leave, and though unceremonious, Loki once again feels as though he's crossed an important threshold into the unknown. What are their standards? he wonders. What's an upstanding ShadowClanner? The fluttering ray of hope dwindles, and he's hit by the reality of his situation. He's a "ShadowClanner" now. A wildcat. No food on his tongue unless his jaws had snuffed its life out. No brightly-colored cushions to retreat to after a long day of doing nothing. No window panes to shield him from the elements and what foes he'd make. Loki has half a mind to turn tail and run back the way he came, for the sliver of a chance to go home might be better than eons of assured suffering. Instead, he tries his best to straighten up, works the kinks from his spine and tail, and glances at the curiosities surrounding him. "Er, that's a yes, right?"

ooc: don't have to respond to this, just wanted to write this reply!
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