border LEAVE YOUR LONESOME WAYS BEHIND ❀ what’s this?

[BLOOMFUR]

❀ it has been 30 days, 2 hours, and ten seconds since crochet’s mother kindly instructed her to leave. bees buzzed around their flowers, birds chirped from the treetops, an array of colors she never thought she’d witness in her lifetime. her house, to put it kindly, began to feel stuffy after the snow melted. walls coated in tacky floral designs pressed against her plush fur, muffled sounds from a record player drowned out her thoughts. crochet paws itched, ached, longed to be used for more than batting away a ball of yarn. she wanted them to feel rough to the touch, cracked and calloused after walking on difficult terrain. two years old, and all she wants to do is tear down castle walls with her bare hands and score her claws down a dragon’s eye ( one of the visitors put on a movie that looked very, very old ).

from her worn down cat tree, she began to watch people file in and out of the home— some wearing basic colored pelts and making sure the old woman was okay. none of them paid much attention to crochet, a few would glance at her, but none would smile. they’d shuffle into the room her owner slept in, and if it weren’t for the automatic feeder, she’d have worried more about the status quo. one day she glanced at her mother, who wore a solemn expression, pink hues tiredly looking at a closed door. that’s when crochet knew. was it cruel of her, to sleep with a smile on her face that night?

the farewell was teary, well meaning, and easy to shake off. she didn’t even look over her shoulder before hopping off the fence... inconsiderate of her, maybe, but bobbie hadn’t. the world ahead shone bright, whispers kissed her ears, tugging her forward on an imaginary string. crochet took a large, gulp of fresh air, and trotted away.

how does a housecat survive in the wild for so long? easy, begging for scraps, obviously! twolegs are easy creatures, crochet learned fast that all she needed to do was tilt her head like so, and softly paw at their leg. she’d lounge around their home occasionally, curling her limbs around their soft blankets and freshly heated homes. of course, she missed her mother, but her time for adventure was well overdue. in the morning, before they could call anyone, she’d scurry off, her collar jingling with greed.

finally, after 30 days— so on —the twisted limbs of the forest called to her. crochet didn’t need much convincing to step into the fairy circle, a dusting of scents hitting her nose like spores. a pinkish nose twists in disgust, the molly nearly gagging at the scent. crochet shakes out her fur, rubbing her nose once before taking another step. another. a third.

//

PLEASE wait for @DOEBLAZE !! smile

too long, didn’t read: crochet leaves her home after instructed too by her senior-aged mom. after a full moon of wandering, she steps over skyclan’s border unknowingly. it smells gross to her.

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Doeblaze ( stars, the name is still foreign on her tongue ) rarely gives much thought to her life before the wild, anymore. Not out of a lack of fondness—no, never—but perhaps the opposite, an excess of it, a nostalgia so overwhelming it pains her heart. Much like memories of golden fur and a nose pressed to her forehead, it simply hurts too much to recall . . . shapeless shards of memory, sharp - edged in their familiarity, their absence an ache just blunt enough that it would hurt more to retain them.

Long days tucked between flowered walls, strange flames leaping high behind their soot - blackened cave, the nest a bundle of warmth as flakes of icy white—then only indicative of cold fun and long nights, now a stinging reminder of hunger and lungwort - scent and blood - spray on ivory snow—plastered themselves to the strange glossy windows to the world outside. Her mother's soft pink gaze settled on her, shiny with happiness, the edges of age only just beginning to tug at the undersides of warm eyes; watching her and her little brother, Crochet's similarly hued pelt soft underpaw as she washed the fur between his ears, a thoughtless tangle of limbs.

She misses it so badly it's a physical ache, nearly a phantom limb . . . better she not try to test its weight, and so she simply banishes it to the far scrublands of her mind, where everything that hurts goes to rest . . . though she can never stop herself from tugging at those half - buried things, letting them fester.

Needless to say, she'd never thought she'd see either of them again. A bad choice in lover and a back - glance through gloaming blue and they'd been lost forever, and then their last traces too . . . for in losing her softer edges, in sharpening herself into a weapon she could wield, hadn't she given up that downy - fluffed family? The final dregs of the gentle sweetness her mother had taught, that she'd passed down to her sibling in their short moons together, had served a dual purpose as the last memories of them along with her collar, and now both things were gone.

She especially didn't think she'd be re - meeting her sibling on a border patrol . . . the tabby pads along after the patrol leader, occasionally rubbing her face in an effort to bring some brightness to her eye. Long nights of sitting up, sleepless, or spent in half - remembered dreams made for some exhaustion. She could work through it, of course she could, had to, but still . . . wait a minute—there's an unfamiliar scent. Doeblaze's hackles bristle in a quick rustling of white - freckled lilac, jade - hued eye widening and snapping about until she spotted a shape by the border some distance ahead . . . kittypet, if the strange artifice of the scent was any good guess, and the lack of surety in the faraway figure's steps.

Better get over there before someone less friendly does. The times called for paranoia, of course ( how could they not? they always did, after all ), but the kind of needless aggression from . . . certain Clanmates wouldn't be much use against a kittypet, especially not when they need warriors . . . but when didn't they? An open - clawed slap was no greeting at all, especially when delivered by a certain two lead warriors, and so the tabby she - cat bustles ahead in a small, quick patter of steps until she begins to near the stranger.

" Step back! This is SkyClan's territo— " she begins in snappish tones ( really, sometimes she could hardly blame Slate—how could one miss such obvious scent markers? ) . . . that is, until the stranger turns as she draws closer, and it's not a stranger at all. A lone green eye snaps wide with unabashed shock, newly ( at least to Crochet ) white jaws parting ever - so - slightly as her verdant gaze roams over the cat before her, taking in dusty lilac fur that nearly matches her own, white - blazed nose, a frame that looms over her own . . .

" . . . Crochet? " she nearly whispers, head tilting sideways. It doesn't compute, her little ( not anymore ) brother looking distinctly out of place on the border, unmistakably familiar. It's as seeing a ghost . . . or just someone she'd never thought she'd lay an eye on again. Her soldier's stance wavers and she takes another step forward. " Stars above, is it really you? "

OOC : Tiny note for readers: Doeblaze isn't yet aware of Crochet's transition, hence the ( temporary ) use of masc terms! That said, the thread is now open :-)

♥︎

​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

The scent of the trespassing feline had been carried downwind. It had actually been @Daisypaw who had pointed it out to her in a psst as she stalked after a vole. Quick and eager to defend her clan's borders, Figfeather sprung onto her paws and hurried to the scene, later she'd think to praise her apprentice for his keen nose.

Red tabby fur bristles and ears point backwards against her skull. She's shocked to see Doeblaze already here and at the scene, it seemed intruders weren't able to get far into SkyClan territory as of late... unless they had murderous intent. Though the lilac and blue-eyed feline clearly carried the whiff of a kittypet, Figfeather does not hesitate in showing hostility. She, however, grows puzzled with Doeblaze's recognition of this cat. "....Who is this?" Figfeather asks, weary eyes shifting back and forth between her clan-mate and stranger.

​

 

[BLOOMFUR]

❀ a fourth, a fifth… the smell gets worse and worse, somehow. it’s overwhelming, a heavy stimulation of colors akin to a scratch-n-sniff. her head pulls back, chin sinking into the puff of lilac fur curled around her neck, and if it hadn’t been for the authoritative voice, she would’ve turned back around. crochet’s head snaps upward, swiveling her ears to get a better tell of the voice— and there’s no way. breath pulls from her lungs, skewering her voice, she chokes out, "bobbie?"

what happened? crochet wonders, light blue eyes flicking over her appearance. those wounds looked old, and she lacked a familiar red collar. but that was her, crochet knew that, she’d never forget her sister’s face. the last time she saw her sister was the day she left. perched on top of a fence, tail-twined with a man who spoke smooth tongued, and in a blink, she was gone. not a goodbye, or a smile over her shoulder. it hurt, for a really long time.

"bobbie! oh, it is you!" she grins, bounding over, nearly crashing into her sibling, throwing her paws around doeblaze’s shoulders. "i thought you died! you– you left with that man and– is he here?– your face…" her tail thumps loudly on the forest floor, the lilac molly blinking tears from her eyes. a new voice pipes up, but it sounds muffled to crochet’s ears.

"you missed so much! i’m a woman now, isn’t that great?" she laughs, a breezy, carefree one, and she can’t remember the last time she laughed this way. things were so dreary after her depature, but things can be better now.

finally, she realizes there’s more weird smelling cats. the red tabby doesn’t look too happy to see her, which is fine, crochet supposes. "i’m her sister!" it rings so nicely off the tongue. sister.
​

 

[Daisypaw]

Daisypaw wasn't sure how he felt about the borders of the territory at the moment. He knew that there was danger everywhere - he'd learned this through observation luckily so far and not living through it - but it seemed as though more bad things happened at the borders, more cats tresspassing and bodies being found around these areas - but it was still part of the dailies of being an apprentice, and so he sucked it up and moved alongside his mentor. Maybe it was because of his apprehension or maybe he was just getting better at the things he had been trained for but when Daisypaw noticed the scent of an unfamiliar cat at the border he'd turned to Figfeather and without hesitation got her attention with a quick "Psst!" before motioning in the direction of the border and off they went.

Ears pricked as he realized Doeblaze was already there, watched as she was seemingly unbothered for the most part by the feline that was at the border. His mentor asks who this this and before the warrior can answer the question the stranger does so instead after practically tackling Doeblaze and the apprentice's ears pin back to his head. She speaks then, shares who she is and Daisypaw looks over to Figfeather for a moment before looking back to Doeblaze and Crochet. "Are you um... trying to join?" He felt awkward, asking questions, but he knew that eventually he would be one of the ones that would have to ask, toting his own apprentice around behind him. He could only hope that Figfeather was fine with him asking the question, trying to get information so that if need-be they could either run Crochet off or get someone else to accept the joiner if need-be. Even if she was family she was still trespassing.

CAUGHT YOU RED 🌺 HANDED IN THE BISCUIT TIN

• 

• 
  ♡ SH blue w/low white & blue eyes
  ♡ cannot properly control emotions
  ♡ born november 8, 2023. ages realistically
  ♡ sexuality unknown ; interested in no one
  ♡ adopted by Butterflytuft and Dandelionwish
  ♡ brother to Weedpaw and Fluffypaw
  ♡ easy to befriend ; easy to upset
  ♡ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ♡ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[LITTLEMOON]

it's not my fault i have my father's eyes .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The small warrior’s gaze narrowed, watching Crochet and Doeblaze with unblinking hues, helm tilted with muffled curiosity. A family member, then. Littlemoon hummed, attention spanning to Figfeather and Daisypaw. “I doubt they’d walk away.” He muttered, wooly plumage twitching, scarred lips tugging downward, pulling at freckled cheeks.

Ah. Turning to Doeblaze, Littlemoon couldn’t help but inquire if she did want the other to join given how — No matter. Family is as important, isn't it? Unfortunately, Littlemoon only had Tawnyclaw in the non-traditional sense. It was really … all he needed.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary to meet strangers looking for salvation if he could call SkyClan that. It was home, yes, but was it? Littlemoon frowned, tail curling in trepidation. Right. No time for silly thoughts when we have a stranger. Better yet, one having crossed the border unintentionally. “Did you not notice the scent markings?” He suddenly inquired, voice flat. ​

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thought speech​

 

[SLATE]

〔✦〕This would have almost been another case of the lead warrior snapping at a foolish trespasser—in fact, had he been in a less forgiving mood, he might have even tackled the lost kittypet on account of their inattentiveness. That little bell that jingled around the feline's neck made the Maine Coon's muzzle gnarl in distaste; he himself had a collar like that once, a bright green color to be exact. It sounded like claws against asphalt in his mind, only reminding him of his youth when he was so naive and wide-eyed. This kittypet hardly looked touched by the elements either, not even as much as a scratch marring their form. Ugh.

Slate storms ahead, ready to hurl a spitting insult toward the trespasser as Doeblaze dealt with them first. Figfeather and a couple of others approach the stranger as well, and Slate thinks to himself that this show of force would surely scare the kittypet off. Then, something quite unexpected happens. Crochet, the warrior addresses, before the lilac-hued molly responds with "Bobbie?" Oh... they knew each other. They both seem surprised, like they have not laid eyes on each other in a long while. This may have been a fellow kittypet that Doeblaze had known from before SkyClan.

The lead warrior watches the happy reunion, discomfort painted across his features as he takes a step back from the sudden burst of energy radiating from this "Crochet". She breaks news that surely comes as a shock to them all — they are siblings. The resemblance is certainly there; they were the same color, anyway. Bob—Doeblaze had also carried a similar demeanor when she first joined the clan — sickly sweet, oozing with good-naturedness and all that. The lilac tabby had never mentioned any family, but then again, why would she?

A hardened stare resumes on the broad-mawed male's features as Daisypaw raises an important question. Would she join? Orangestar would allow it in a heartbeat, no doubt, and surely Doeblaze would vouch for her sister to remain in the clan with her. Ugh! The thought of potentially dealing with a cat similar to younger Doeblaze was headache-inducing.

oh no, ive said too much ( i havent said enough ) //

• ooc.
  
• SLATE —— lead warrior of skyclan , mentoring coffeepaw ✦ penned by beatles
  ✦ cismale / he/him pronouns / 40 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ single / bisexual & monogamous / closed to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— hard combat difficulty & weak to agile, quick fighters / will start fights, will kill if necessary
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are ic
  ✦ biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a scarred longhaired maine coon with amber eyes. a large, 20lb tom with thick locks of fur. his chest and underbelly is ruddy from sun exposure. notable scars decorate his face and his ears are both torn with one being folded over.

​

 

[BLOOMFUR]

❀ the excitable chiming of bells ebbed away into something more coherent, grounding. crochet’s ears flicked, taking notice of the voices, who appeared to know her sister in some way. all of them smelled, like the prickling notes that originally sent her over the imaginary line. she makes a show of realizing that by scrunching her muzzle up, not even trying to hide her ignorance. they looked so uncomfortable about her, especially the big brute with the ugly mug. crochet ignores that one specifically, landing curiously on the youngest, instead.

"join? you’re like… a colony?" it’s all she could assume. crochet’s life outside of the fence has been strictly freeloading off her kittypet friends– somehow, she never caught wind of any word of ‘clan cats’.

someone pipes up with a question, wondering how she missed the scent markers. she blinks curiously at the freckled cat, "good question! uhmmm… i guess i didn’t! that weird smell must’ve been all of you guys… no offense," crochet doesn’t give anyone time to soak in her not-apology, opening her maw once more, "so, i can like, join? just like that?"

she blinks once more, tink tink tink-ing her lashes down at her sister. there hasn’t been a chance to explain why she’s wandering outdoors, but everyone needs to leave the nest someday, so it’s not that weird.

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

To her credit, Figfeather is right behind her, the white - splashed face of Daisypaw bobbing at her side as the pair arrive with bristling pelts and sharp eyes. The red tabby she - cat's words snap Doeblaze abruptly out of a daze of memory and she straightens her posture, lashes snapping in a series of waking blinks. Her eye focuses on Crochet's face, drinking it in, her sibling placed in sharp contrast against the verdant wildness of the landscape, as a wavering computer glitch. " This is Crochet, my— "

" Oof! " The other cat all but crashes into her, flinging off - toned paws around her shoulders and all but bowling her over. Her own forepaws splay askew, framing her sister's face as she breaks into a careless laugh. It's been so long, but—well, Doeblaze can't help but do the same, husky voice bubbling up into relieved giggles at the realness of Crochet, the assurance that her sister was still here and kicking unlike so many others. " Crochet! " she laughs, green eye softening into seaglass as it crinkles at the edges, meeting vibrant blue.

" That's—yeah, that's great! Stars, if you think you missed a lot, " she mrrows, thinking of the six young cats her sister had never met, that she doesn't even know of as they speak now. She blinks her lone eye again, jarred back into the greater world where there were other cats and the issue of Crochet's joining. Well, I'll handle it, she thinks, and her heart warms: we'll handle it. Doeblaze straightens up, nodding to Daisypaw—Figfeather was training a smart one, not that she'd expect anything less from her—and a frowning Littlemoon. She doesn't spare a glance for the hulking, sour - faced form of Slate.

" This is—I mean, we're all from SkyClan. I live there now, " she meows in explanation, flicking her tail as the white flag of a deer. " There's a lot of rogues around here, so everyone's a little wary about trespassers. " Torn ears flutter in half - exasperated amusement as her sister spews a blithe explanation, not that she can begrudge her it; she's sure she wouldn't've been much better if her own joining had been under such circumstances.

" Yeah. Yeah, you can join, of course, " she mrrows, unable to keep the smile off her face at the thought. " Our leader, Orangestar, she's the one who can officially accept you, " Doeblaze explains, adding with a glance to her Clanmates, " I can vouch for her. " This sort of handled, a brightened green eye focuses on her sister once more, thinking of all Crochet's missed, " My kits—well, I guess they're not kits anymore, but—they live there with me. "

OOC : —

♥︎

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