this is the official riverclan arrival thread! in this thread, cats will find camp and establish dens but will remain in three sections ; warriors, youths, and the nursery. as ranks are established so will official dens! after this thread has been posted you are more than welcome to post your own introduction / joining threads. furthermore, this will also mark the beginning of riverclan's two - week grace period ; on august first, cicada will be throwing the clan into isolation and any further joiners will be looked at with heavy suspicion, as well as any former kittypets being immediately turned away.

− ♱ ABOUT : the sun was brilliant. golden shades of greenleaf shining down on crystalline waters that lap gently at time - worn rocks, beckoning life to its all - sustaining waves. the lush greenery was alight with prey and predator alike, lurking beneath shade cast from rows of looming beech trees and parting sedge to dip their paws into the rushing river. the water babbles gently over jagged, white sun - bleached boulders ripe for bathing on, shells studding the soil beneath shallow, bubbling rivulets. zephyr grazes river reeds and cattail, twisting along the lengthening, dew - studded tongues of grass that stem from fertile, hydrated soil. paws already come back damp from the recents of a season - wrought shower, earthworms coiling against land as they seek their burrowed homes once more. dirt piles into the space between defined knuckles, rounded paws dark, claws dirtied ; he feels a martyr offering his weak heart, his residence, his farewell to normalcy. moisture gathers in the dips of his collarbone, hidden beneath thick bicolored curls of his coat, and he figures if there had been one thing to stay the same after the end, it was the weather. beauty thrummed in each crook of their new home, each wave of flora riverwind - blown an invitation into the blue - green depths.

they were really doing this. the colonies had split, with five leaders taking their stands ; thunderclan, windclan, skyclan, shadowclan, and their very own riverclan. briar has remained leader of the newly dubbed shadowclan, what warriors of hers from the marsh colony that remained lingering back to pick up the pieces. he was glad -- he admired the woman still, her ability to lead proven time and time again, hare whiskers memory laced heavy in each of her actions. she meant well for her family, and those who remained in the newly dubbed shadowclan would pick up the pieces left behind easily under her guide. soot had been the one to take up the moorlands ; windclan. the blue smoke was an opinionated feline, though he supposed she would make just as good a leader, if not an overstrict one. perhaps that was what they needed. the smoke's lips pursed in thought, memories of sal's declaration of moor rabbit flashing heavy behind his minds eye. perhaps she'd been right. maybe there was enough rabbit to feed a group ; certainly one with less mouths to feed than the colonies had had. his heart ached at the thought of the grey woman, her form ravaged with loss ; once a fiery spirit now watered down with grief.

cicada winced, casting his blue luminaries towards the diamond sky, the beginning hues of dusk gripping brilliant shades in splashes of indigo. he walks alongside the younger members of his newfound group as they traverse the stone studs jaggedly dotting the water, crystalline liquid soaking through the curls that line his slim forelimbs. the twoleg bridge was bustling with activity, the overpowering smells of crisping meat and food wafting heavy from the nearby park where the no - furs vocalized loudly, pitching their colored disks back and forth, baring their teeth at each other in what he could only assume was playful aggression. he ensured his cats avoided them at all costs, taking the sturdy, leaping way towards the drained island to further do so. the water was low, however ; most adults would be able to traverse the river up to their shoulders at the deepest part, toes still able to find the pebbled ground just beneath bubbling waves. he wished only the best for those he left behind ; soot, briar, salamander, bone. he wanted the bicolored molly to accompany him desperately, and maybe . . he would succeed in doing so. he would go back for final goodbyes, and in doing so, he would find her . . he had to.

quiet was a different story. the marshes were their home, and while he ached to pick her up by their scruff and carry them alongside the banks running over with new beginnings, he could not force them. besides, the pine colony cats that had followed in his footsteps, he didn't trust yet. the smoke couldn't risk them being in such close proximity, especially after . . the fourtrees incident.

carefully, over the stones. we shouldn’t be much further. “ the accented tom speaks, a smile coming to curve his rubber black maw, gaze fixing on the cats crossing the stone pathway. youth, as well as those who sought only to keep their paws dry. he would say nothing, their presence living amongst the river confusing but understandable almost consecutively. the rushing body of water was a near unlimited source of food and protection. their drained land lie just beyond the smooth rocks and shimmering waters, thick roots and reeds twined to form formations that, with a little work, could be shaped into sturdy dens. grasslike plant suddenly begins to take form in his vision and his ears perk, the wispy stalks meaning only one thing, " there, just beyond that sedge lies our new life. our riverclan. "

  • CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, leader of riverclan
    − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
    − speaks with a german accent, attack in #171717, penned by antlers

  • none.


The influx of cats was rather- curious. Why where there so many suddenly? What had transpired that lead to such a thing? The black and white cat had been on the edge of the river, orange eyes glowing in the dimming light,watching these cats cross the river. Slowly but surely they did make their way over, and they grew more and more curious. This tom seemed to be in the lead of them, and they got up from their crouch position in the willow bushes, "Whatcha doin?" They questioned as they approached this tomcat. Those orange eyes wide with wonder of this mass of cats that had been following along behind him.

"Who are you guys?" The questioned secondly, and tilted their head to the other side. What brought them here? Where they staying forever? Was this some kind of invasion of their home? Raccoon wasn't sure but they were certain they where curious about the situation, "Are you invading the river?" More questions where thrown towards the tomcat and black paws bounced a bit on the sandy ground of the riverbank.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ She had left without saying goodbye. Slipped away once the news had spread, once Briar had returned to their newly named ShadowClan camp. Their group had split, with Soot and a select few going to the moorlands, and with Cicada and others going to the riverlands.

Fox has never been to the riverlands. She's only tasted the fish another had caught for her. But the ache in her heart resulting from Dewdrop's death has driven her away from her home, her siblings. She cannot look at them anymore. She cannot protect them, just as Dewdrop could not truly in the end.

She hopes they understand, but she cannot stay. Her memory clings to the moss she sleeps in. Her siblings' blue eyes, their mottled tortoiseshell fur, so like her's had been. Even looking at them hurts like dying all over again.

Tiny paws come to the stones overlaid with water. She frowns at the pathway but does not hesitate. Her short stature ensures her legs and a bit of her belly fur become soaked, but her amber eyes flash with determination. She can spot Cicada, telling them that over the sedge is their home.

Home. She hasn't come here to find a home. Only to get away from a place she cannot bear to live in. But she wears a tired smile nonetheless as she joins the others.

Mismatched ears flick at the voice of another. A young cat, perhaps only a few moons older than her, wearing a black mask and paws. Battering them with questions.

Fox's instinct is to shrink back into another's pelt, but who is there to protect her? No one. No one. She gives the cat a look she hopes communicates strength, independence. "We're RiverClan. We live here now." Her voice shakes with the confidence she does not have.

He truly didn't care where he ended up living. If he was being honest, he would have preferred the pine forest over this place. At least the pine forest was familiar. At least it was full of cats he'd grown up around and knew. It was where Rain had raised him and Brook.

But his sister wanted to come here, so he'd follow, padding by her side as cautious hazel eyes glanced left and right at the new territory. They were to follow a cat called Cicada. He didn't know the tom, and sure as dirt didn't trust him. But he'd serve him if it meant being there to protect Brook and keep the other former pine cats safe. Gull, Honeybee, Lily, Ice, Mud....they were still his colony and he'd make sure none of these marsh cats harmed them.

The blue smoke stepped unsteadily across the stepping stones, trying his best not to slip. "Careful," He murmured back to his sister, keeping his tail held out in case she needed guidance across. Hearing Cicada's words, he looked forward, feeling a sudden nervousness come over him. Our new home....

Nearby, a young cat popped out of the undergrowth, and Lightning immediately glared at them suspiciously. Already, strangers were finding their way to their- their clan.

RiverClan. An obvious name for the territory near the river. Clay had trailed behind his family—and the rest of his clanmates—on the trek here, sticking close enough to the group not to get hopelessly lost on the way. His decision to join RiverClan, of all clans, was largely guided by his attachment to his family. But as he stumbles across a few stepping stones and nearly falls facefirst into the river, he begins to wonder whether this is the right choice. Sure, this place is surrounded by fruitful hunting land and surely an abundance of food in the form of river-dwelling fish, but he’s no swimmer. Especially not if there’s anything scary in the water.

Cicada’s promise of their new life strikes within him, a warm feeling pooling in his chest; Rain’s group had never felt like a perfect fit for him, but this? Perhaps this can be a good fit, once he gets used to. Well, all of it. "This place smells," he whines, a childish tone to his voice as he wrinkles up his nose. He doesn’t pay attention to the strange cat who’s confronted their leader, mostly because he’s too busy keeping his legs from slipping out from under him while he takes the final step away from the stones. Ah, back on dry land again.

The calico she-cat has lived along the river her whole life. Though her ten moons of life were hardly a dent compared to many of the cats that she'd met along the river's bank, she quickly grew to adore the water, the feeling of it along her pelt as she swam, the glint reflecting off the rushing stream in the sunlight, and its ability to house many a fish within its liquid trenches.

Lagoon was born for the water. The river was her home.

The sight of such a large group arriving across the river's stones landed on mixed-feelings. She'd never seen such a large group cross into the river's land, so curiosity was forefront in her mind. However, word of war had spread, and Lagoon couldn't help the sinking feeling that the sight of the group brought her. Had they come to fight for her home?

She approaches with caution, only to stand beside another river cat who'd gotten to them first. The black and white feline is already questioning them, asking the group who they are, what they're doing here.

A voice among the youngest responds with a claim that they are 'RiverClan.' That this is their home now.

They were forest dwellers - Lagoon could smell the remnants of marsh and pine along their pelts. The young feline doubts the group before her would know the key skills needed to live along the river. If they were going to drive her out of her home, she'd rather them to be a group that knows how to live along the water, not one that would hardly thrive on it.

"RiverClan?" the calico cat asks, an edge of unease in her voice. "Do you even know how to swim? To fish?"
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There is a quiet breath that leaves Pumpkins mouth as she aimlessly follows the group that Cicada lead. The gathering left her stunned and as Cicada spoke up she had blindly followed, leaving everything she knew behind. Perhaps it was a good thing, she knew she could not look Briar in the face anymore, in fact she couldnt look anyone in the face. Her eyesight was terrible in her left eye and she'd barely been able to open it.

To be honest? She was scared. Terrified. Scared of not being able to see, the unknown, trekking in to this stupid territory.

Theres words and something sparked in her. "What gave you that idea?" she spits out sarcastically, a new light, a flame in her heart. "And who are you to question Cicada?" she comes to the aid of her father- friend, her fur bristling. How her bites ached, screamed with pain with every harsh lash but she presses on. "You can come join us or get out."
Gull hadn't been too keen on this Cicada bastard staking his claim to the riverside, but like hell was the silver tabby going to let him run it into the ground. He wasn't here to support the smoky leader, of course not, he's here for his groupmates. Lightning, Mud, Ice, Clay, he'd make sure that they aren't treated like trash underneath that swamp shithead's rule.

And, obviously Gull wasn't going to give up the river. It's the closest to home he'd ever been since he'd been stuck on land rather than on ships.

But they're not alone. A couple of loners materialize from the reeds, questioning their intentions and their abilities. Gull glowers at the calico molly specifically, his half-tail lashing. "What kinda idiot would live near the river if they didn't like gettin' their paws wet or scoopin' up fish?" It seems obvious enough to him, unaware that there are some cats in his new clan that do not, in fact, like the water.