pafp LIGHTNING IN YOUR TEETH ☆ joiners

[Skunktail]

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The marshland was a place of peace and beauty for Skunktail, except in the harsh leafbare times. Here it was bleak and hostile, the thick layers of fog and deep water made it hard to see, yet the biting wind could be felt everywhere. The cold was nearly unbearable, yet the life within the swamp still carried on, as if they had no choice. Like them. Like how ShadowClan had no choice. Though it was easy to get lost amidst the thick brush, Skunktail knew every inch of the area, he had been born and raised here and knew nothing else. The striped tom took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the rich scent of the earth and fog. It was out on the territory where Skunktail could forget the trials and struggles of ShadowClan for a moment and simply exist but his brief moment of respite did not last long when a foreign scent drifted through the air and reached him. The border was not far from where he stood and his spearmint green eyes narrowed in thought, it was certainly no clan patrol this close to the Thunderpath - the only clans who wandered near their territory at all were WindClan and ThunderClan and this had not a note of either present, it was a strangely familiy scent but in the way it reminded him of something rather than hold any familiarity. The black and white time stifled a groan of annoyance and made his way over, approaching cautiously as he was alone on this outing and didn't want to risk being leapt upon by a predator.

What he sees on the border catches him more by surprise than anything he could have possibly expected. Three cats, young but not apprentice aged from the looks of it, stand before him.

The first he sees has an eerily similar appearance to an old friend from the days before the clans, but eyes like moss over stone. The taller of them a sleek brown tom is riddled in scars but has gentle amber eyes, the other next to him is almost rusted with his dark brown and black colors and also has the same color eyes. Its those eyes he can't help but stare at, his own widening as he tries to compose himself; it was like gazing into the past, the reflection of a cat he once saw staring back at him with trust and companionship so many moons before that it feels like a lifetime. He knows those eyes, he feels, but it has been such a long time that he can't put a paw on it despite his efforts. Instead he clears his throat, "...who are all of you? Why are you here at ShadowClan's territory?" They seemed to know just enough about the clans to not trespass directly, but he knows he's never seen them before.

☆ ———— promise me she's not your world ☆ ———————— 'Cause Andy, you're a star

• Please let the following post first - @Hawk & @SNIPE & Pipit
• 
  
  
  Skunktail
  —⊰⋅ Warrior of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ SH Black & white tom w/spearmint green eyes
  

​

 

[pipitclaw !!]

Wild steps match a thrill-seeking heart, turning sporadically every few strides to be sure the dark-furred frames of his brothers trot after him still. His smile is bright, despite the circumstances, glistening fangs as present as a flaming spirit- "Aren't you excited? Where is your sense of wonder, brothers!" He tries his best to be their guiding light through times of dark, ignoring the gruff chides that say 'Calm down, Pipsqueak.' He is no small, girlish creature in need of protecting and withholding... flouncing forward with every confidence, he feels unstoppable. Carried on the wings of a promise, a dying breath kept alive in his chest, Pipit cannot be pestered into changing his mind.

Stopping short of a strongly scented patch of land, golden eyes gleam like lantern light amongst the fog and chilly air- "This must be it! Do you smell that? How bizarre..." Wonderment drips like honey from his tongue, scooping up what little he can see with a ravenous gaze. "We should wait here- to be polite of course!"

He doesn't bother to wait for their agreement or denial, he knows his brothers to be painfully loyal to him (they know he would do the same, without hesitation) and really, they had no reason not to try this out... Mother was gone, they must forge their own path-- and what a great wish she had shared unto them. I promise. And nothing more needed to be said after that.

It doesn't take long for the frost to nip at his toes nor, thankfully, for a curious pair of eyes to spot them and draw closer still. He seems to have seen a ghost, the way he all but gawks at the chocolate-masked tom and his shadowy siblings. "Ah! At last... My name is Pipit-" His grin grows wider at the mention of ShadowClan, We found it after all!

His tail lashes in a whirlwind of his excitement, his impatience to see the rest of it, but not without finishing proper introductions first. "We've heard about you! 'ShadowClan'... Our mother spoke fondly of it... it was her dying wish we find it ourselves and so I have brought my brothers here to see it. We mean no harm, we will not bite! I insist, you must allow us to join you-" Perhaps a little forward, a little too bold but what was the harm in making their intentions clear?

---

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[Hawkstride]

It still would not cease gnawing at him, that little voice in the back of his mind that told him this was not a good idea. The thought had been haunting him since they'd set out, leaving their home behind to seek out something new and unfamiliar. He wanted to listen, but it was overshadowed by the boundless excitement in his brother's chipper words. Pipit was looking forward to this, and even though he couldn't understand that particular outlook in this situation they'd found themselves in, he would not ruin this moment for him, or for Snipe. He'd promised his mother as much.

Her voice was there, too, swirling around in the chaos of his tumultuous memories. He still couldn't understand her motives for sending them on this little quest. After all this time, after keeping their heritage from them for their entire lives, she chose now to spring upon them the truth of their father and his connection to the forest clans. Part of him wanted to be angry with her; surely she knew exactly what she was doing, trapping them into this scheme of hers by wrapping it into the neat little package of her final wish, delivered with utmost severity on her deathbed. He wanted to ignore her, to continue the solitary life of contentment he and his brothers had grown accustomed to in the swamps. But he couldn't. In a way, by upholding her dying wish, it was... almost as if they were keeping a part of her alive with them.

And he missed her dearly.

No, he could not turn his back on his mother or his brothers. So here he found himself, ivory paws covered ankle-deep in damp earth as they trudged through the frigid marshlands to the apparent 'Shadowclan' border. He'd had no dealings with clan cats in the past (and would've prefered to keep it that way) so in truth, Hawk had little to no idea what to expect when they arrived. The pungent scent of a dozen or so cats merged into one foul odor that hit him only a second after Pipit eagerly announced it to them. His nose instinctually scrunched up at the assaulting smell and he could only hum a restrained reply back. Bizarre indeed.

The fur on the back of his neck stood on-end moments before an ebony tomcat stepped out of the darkness across from them, his body already unconsciously preparing to defend their little trio as if out of habit. His moss-colored gaze narrowed dangerously as he assessed the stranger, muscles tense as he noted that odd look of shock that settled over his face. "Hm." He spared a quick sideways glance at Snipe while Pipit greeted the clanner in his usual overly-cheerful manner, confirming that they were in fact finally at the Shadowclan border. What now? Before his brother could continue on with the no-doubt relentless tirade of persuasion that was coming, Hawk took a single step forward while cutting in to murmur gruffly, "We're looking for a tom named Skunktail. Is he still around?" He didn't bother offering his name, not yet, until he knew whether or not the object of their search was here. That was the important bit, and likely, the key to being allowed to enter Shadowclan. What would they do, he wondered, if their father was not, in fact, around?

Perhaps it would be for the best.

 

[SNIPETHORN]

Brown fur glints as it catches the sun’s rays through the pines. The forest grows dense ahead of the three tom’s, but they grow still in their tracks when hit by the overwhelming stentch of cat. As loners, they knew well enough how protective groups of cats were about their territories. Snipe had always thought it stupid, that cats felt themselves so entitled to take stretches and stretches of land and claim it for themselves. Yet on other paw, part of him understood. There were some achres of loner lands that he held near and dear to him, finding just anyone waltzing around always lit a fire in his belly.

He was still in surprise for the death of Porcupine. How frail she had gotten so quickly, he was grateful she rested peacefully now but a chunk of his heart had been taken with her. The three brothers felt lost without her presence and maternal guidance, but she had left them a final wish to fulfill that prevented the trio from being purposeless. Find ShadowClan, find Skunktail- their father.

Father. A foreign term to Snipe. He could not imagine having any other type of parental guidance but that from a she-cat. What type of wisdom and protection came from a father? Blood meant a great deal to Snipe, his fur prickles in excitement in the idea of finding a cat who had sired them. Though he had his precautions, how did Porcupine know this tom would welcome them with open paws? Did he even know they existed? Snipe is fully prepared to be turned away by both this ‘clan’ and supposed sire.

Yet Pipit seemed giddy, he almost leads them on with a skip in his step. He seemed to be who led Hawk and Snipe as the two more doubtful brothers along.

”Yes, it’s best we do.” He responds to Pipit’s proposition to wait at the scentline, ”We’ve learned first paw once or twice how protective these cats are of their land, I’d rather not get jumped.” He snorts with a roll of his eyes, being quick to add ”Not that we couldn’t take ‘em if they tried…”

It’s not long after that the undergrowth rustles and the sound of paws sloshing through muck can be heard. The chocolate tom tenses as he prepares for a cat to confront them, green eyes pierce cut through the dark as a black pelt works it’s way out of the shadows. A long white stripe travels from the bridge of his nose, through his back and up to the tip of his tail. His smell is akin to the stentch that radiates off the border, it’d be hard to second-guess this was anything but a ShadowClanner. The group of cats they were looking for.

Pipit, always a little too friendly is quick to introduce himself and explain their mission. Hawk, more to himself and cautious than their brother reserves introductions and merely adds on to the pile of information. Snipe glances wearily back and forth between brothers and ShadowClanner before making a move to nudge Pipit who was saying far too much. ”Don’t be so quick, we’re not joining anyone until we know for sure what were getting into.” He says in a hasty whisper, though it’d be far from inaudible to Skunktail. Again, his eyes flash suspiciously at the tom as he awaits an answer.

🗡️ INFO BATTLE

• » Snipe
  » Loner
  » He/him
  » A heavily-scarred chocolate tom-cat with amber eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• » A foe who uses brute strength and hits heavy.
  » Excels in taking opponents head-on.
  » Uses slow but powerful hits to bring them to the ground.
  » Fights to overpower and defeat .
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[Briarthorn]

BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.
Unlike many of her clanmates, Briarpaw found herself fascinated by abnormal weather, though perhaps the reasoning for her peaked interest being she had been born in the sweltering heat of green-leaf, the apprentice couldn’t help her love for thunder and rain storms, of the fog and the frost.
Skunktail had seemed out of it this morning, but Briarpaw did not dare ask, she had made her discourse with the warrior perfectly clear only a few short sunrises ago, and fully planned to be stubborn on her feelings.
At least until she did not feel a spark of resentment whenever she glanced his way, gradually waning but still the reminder that he was supposed to be on her side, not humiliating her kin about something he had no business in.
A reflection of her clans namesake, the molly is happy to melt into the fog as though she was thin air, picking her way through the deep and gnarled parts of their marsh while keeping within Skunktails peripheral.
When the scent of something foreign finally blows her way, Briarpaw feels her muzzle crinkle, the sudden distant echos of someone talking ringing from just over the border.
It seems her mentor had caught the scent long before she did, as when pine-laden hues finally catch him, the snow-dipped tom is already making his way towards the strangers on the border.
Quick to pick her way after him, Briarpaw doesn’t make herself known until the last of the three have answered, finally emerging while shaking the feeling of moisture from her pelt.
The one who called themselves Pipit was bold, warily so. His brothers seemed much more level-headed, though.
"Skunktail…?" Briarpaw cannot help but echo the second, eyes almost drifting to her mentor but not quite.
"So you want to join Shadowclan in the search for someone you’ve never met?" The young molly follows up, head tilting with both fascination and confusion.

"speech"
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♕ —

•  

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

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

---

looking for skunktail? their brows furrowed at the words as they walked up from behind the warrior, looking at the strangers. their tail twitched back and forth and back again, sniffing the air for any sense of danger. didn't seem to be any, right now, but that meant nothing. they didn't know these cats. they didn't trust these cats. no matter their age, no matter who they thought they were. with recent events, chilledtaat had no obligation to have to trust anyone outside of their clan at all and they wouldn't start now.

"let's say you do find this skunktail character. what makes you think he wants you around? or, more importantly, what makes you think that you'll be allowed to join shadowclan? what makes you think the leader would let you?"

they ask, simply curious. they didn't have to let these cats join. they could have sent them away... they'd better had have a compelling enough reason to be allowed here.
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[lilacfur]

"Do you notice that?"

Lilacfur has not yet reached the border where her brother and his soon-to-be discovered children stood. A small distance away, she had been leading her new assignment through the marsh in a brief exercise, learning how to find scents when the air was still and rigid. By chance something had swept their way, and even more surprising something new.

Wordlessly she gestured for @CATERPILLARPAW. to follow close behind as they approached the strange scent that quickly followed some of her Clanmates that had already arrived, including Chilledstar themself. "What do they want with Skunktail?" Only catching onto the what the leader had said when they neared, she glanced between the three and her brother with a look of confusion. A clear indication that the white striped tom was exactly who they were looking for, in fact.

"How did you folks even hear about ShadowClan, about my brother?" The rosette lifted her chin as she faced the outsiders now, not out of arrogance or assessment but place herself as a connection, a protector to who they searched for. Even if he was supposed to be the older one.​

[ i need the clouds to cover me ]​

 

[pipitclaw !!]

He is definitely not the bulkiest or tallest of his brothers... who are much meeker in their manner of speech- they do not offer the same long tirade of a story as the masked tom does. Hawk elaborates on their second, more important goal, the matter of seeking out their father. Pipit likes to assume he must look similar to the mystery man in some ways, adorned in chocolate specklings, a toothy grin shared through bloodline, perhaps they have the same blazing spirit! Snipe is quick to sour his over-sharing with a hissed warning, a delicately placed paw to stand afront him like a shield.

He flicks an ear in annoyance with such standoffish behavior, despite the understanding it is a matter of their safety kept in mind. How well could they heed the wishes of one since departed if they did not get into ShadowClan to truly learn about it? What benefit was there in standing at a stink-center, asking after some strange cat, saying 'hello, we're your trio of sons' and then leaving? Seemed kind of rude honestly.. didn't even give dear old dad a chance to know them! And who wouldn't want to know them?

Giving his sibling a chiding sigh, Pipit moves around his protective stance to prove a point- they aren't in any danger yet. "So mistrusting... we are guests and have done nothing wrong," he insists in low tones. Until... they are quite suddenly the center of a forming crowd.

Flare-flicker eyes glance between a smaller girl, a shambling and scarred black-and-white figure. They both seem keen to understand his motivations, press for more information and he is (to his brothers' dismay, likely) more than willing to oblige it. "Yes, yes, why is that such a surprise? It was her dying wish, we would be cruel children not to make an attempt at her behest." It wasn't like they had grand plans for supplementing their life without her.. they would just wander around aimlessly to find where the prey would fill their bellies, where there were fewer tussles with other loners. Whatever could make the winter more survivable.

It isn't until a less than subtle dilute lady makes a hard stare at the original finder-of-boys that they are given proper direction for who to aim their sights on- And she says brother too... His eyes gleam with a soon-to-be obnoxious amount of excitement. "It'd be quite rude of him not to at least say hello to his sons! We traveled a fair ways to meet him." Chilledstar pries to their value, why they should be allowed like Pipit had insisted already and he practically scoffs at the question. "Well, we are no small children in need of rescuing, my good friend. We can fight- have fought," he declares, gesturing to the dark furred trio decorated in various battle-earned scars, "We can hunt! Fully fledged birds now, we are! Forgive my shy brothers, theses are Hawk and Snipe." His rambling is in full force, ever the one to be a conversationalist.

"You said 'brother'? It is a pleasure then, dearest auntie! Do we have other aunts or uncles to meet? Neigh- cousins perhaps?" He turns to his brothers again, lips still flapping, "You don't think we might even be big brothers do you? Imagine that!" He doesn't bother to shy from the suggestion that Skunktail might have more children, ignoring that it is a surprise in itself that even these wayward souls were his first litter. "Should've been a dead giveaway, huh Hawk? You look an awful lot like him... Guess Snipe and I got mother's good looks." It is not meant to be an insult but... is worded poorly nonetheless.​

 

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

A trio of strangers standing upon ShadowClan's border is not a common sight, needless to say. Everybody seems puzzled as they approach the toms, including Roosterstrut who is holding a small avian in his jaws. He keeps his distance, slowly padding up near Lilacfur and Caterpillarpaw and setting his kill down just in case any trouble broke out. They did not appear particularly aggressive; in fact, they were optimistic about joining ShadowClan. They named Skunktail, even, which made the red tabby raise his brows in surprise. How did they know him?

Then, the more "talkative" tom of the bunch casually mentions that they are Skunktail's sons. What? Roosterstrut's jaw parts slightly, giving a side glance to Lilacfur and gauging her reaction to this claim. After a few beats, he would manage, "Well... Uh...." He is not trying to be rude or dismissive, but he is more so lost on how to approach this situation. What could he say? This was certainly none of his business. Still, it was rather curious as to how this even came about. Skunktail himself seemed to always make a stink about his clanmates being bad parents; Roosterstrut eyes the other warrior, wondering how he would choose to handle this information.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙧

• @DEERPAW app tag

• 

• 

  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— he/him; warrior of shadowclan
  —— heteroflexible; single
  —— red tabby tom with long hair and pale green eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

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[Skunktail]

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For his part Skunktail finds he lacks the words reply, usually such a succinct and talkative cat and rarely lacking for things to say he has finally found himself voiceless in face of something he had never even dared to consider a possibility in his life. He never thought of himself as the parent sort, which is why he never went much further than his surface level flirting even if he did happen to find himself developing some kind of feelings for a particular white-furred warrior. Even then, he doubted he'd have ever considered his own kits anytime soon, to find out he had them already and never even knew was...a lot.
The black and white tom's tail lashed uneasily, finally dredging up a sputtering and undiginified reply of, "Sons?" With spearmint green eyes in uncertainty but now that he looks more carefully and as the talkative tom in the front pointed out, they certainly did have some similarities to him. He sees his eyes, his fur color, his build and then at last the traces of warm chocolate he can only assume came from his half of the family after his father Amber. It is the quiet one who so resembles himself he can't help but stare, ears pinning back as he glances to his clanmates momentarily in respite to pull together his thoughts.
"Porcupine...had kits. She left with kits...?" Their former Marsh Colony companion, he had never dared tell her how he really felt for fear of binding her to a place she did not want to remain in and when she left they had one last walk in the swamp to say farewell; to think she ended up carrying his kits and never once returned to tell him until now. Pipit's words of 'dying wish' send him reeling as the realization settles in on why they were here now of all things and never before.
She was dead. Piney was gone. He'd often dreamed of reuiniting with her, a joyous reunion of two cats who were such close friends who might be considered more if fate had allowed, but now he'd never see her again and the dread the swills in his stomach is almost sickening; he feels nauseous.
He shakes his head, forces himself to pull it together, "I'm....Skunktail." Obviously, "...I have sons...I never...why did she never come back then? What happened to her? Oh stars, I'll never see her again..."

☆ ———— promise me she's not your world ☆ ———————— 'Cause Andy, you're a star

•  
• 
  
  
  Skunktail
  —⊰⋅ Warrior of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ SH Black & white tom w/spearmint green eyes
  

​

 

[smogstar]

Between stagnant water-stench, a perilous deficiency on the prey side of things, and the glaring, ugly fact that it's a swamp, wayward paws will find no provision within ShadowClan. Not to mention the penchant for seclusion among its populace, which lends itself to paranoid suspicion on many occasions. Needless to say, the marshlands don't quite see much paw traffic through its lands aside from its own clanned inhabitants. So when loners dare to slither along the territorial margin, natural inclination tells a ShadowClan cat to demand swift answers—assuming they make it that far. Aggressive scepticism has allowed them to survive for so long, after all.

With @ASHENPAW hot on his ankles, the deputy straggles towards the posse gathered at the thunderpath. Clenched in jaw is a portly snipe, while being cautious not to let it slip, as a faint shift in his expression betrays the minutest traces of astonishment. Only fragments reach him, but the broader conversation registers nonetheless. The three strangers may not be familiar by sight, though they are familiar by blood. Astonishment then gives way to silent applause; it is quite remarkable that a molly would allow Skunktail near her, let alone father her kits, given his unpalatable nature about the matter.

Paws reach a standstill at the cusp of the group. Dubiety weighs on his brows as his gaze sweeps across the outsiders, before ambel pools come to rest on the tom of the hour. "Welcome to the club," proffers Smogmaw, and a trenchant glance issues in the younger warrior's trajectory. A mother brings forth a final litter into this world, leaving a posthumous surprise for the poor sire. Déjà vu engulfs the moment.

A prompt flare of the nostrils signifies a shift in his focus. Sourness seeps into his expression as his head turns to face the chattiest amongst the trifecta, muzzle scrunching, lips curling over yellowed ivories. Slim is his tolerance for know-it-alls; even slimmer for know-it-alls who speak without restraint. "Don't believe a lick of the whole 'we can fight' schtick." He huffs sharply, tail thrashing outward. In her dying breaths, their mother sent them off to find a father they'd never known. Skunktail, erstwhile, hadn't a single inkling about their existence in that spacious skull of his. Justifying any motive beyond seeking easy protection proves an arduous challenge.

Call it paranoid suspicion, but Smogmaw's holding his paws firm against the welcome mat. "If you're genuinely mulling over their entry, Chilledstar," he meows, "keep in mind we'd have to train them in our ways. I'm not too keen on doubling more warriors with apprentices—but I'll stand by your verdict." A solemn blink follows as the deputy cedes a breath of pause, then lifts his head to shoot a leering glower at the young outsiders once again.​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

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

---

oh that's not something you hear everyday. their tail twitched back and forth as they looked over at the toms before looking over at skunktail... was he okay? he just found out someone he had kits with was dead, and he didn't even know she had kits in the first place. couldn't have been the most fun thing to experience. they'd have to check in on him later. definitely not in front of his... kits. that's not something they're gonna get used to saying. their ears idly flicked at smogmaw, only offering their deputy a roll of their eyes. so much for the element of surprise. cats tended to switch up when the leader was around but now that the cat was out of the bag...

"sure. they can join. but, we will need to know about the skills you possess. we do things different in shadowclan, and you will need to adapt to our way of life. the only reason I'm allowing you entry is because of your relation to skunktail. i do not trust you, and i will to until you've proven your loyalty. we will assign each of your warriors to assess you, and watch you closely. you can accept this, or you can leave and never come back. up to you."

they can't say they'd shed a tear for them not wanting to join. they didn't care. but they could have did with more warriors... even if for a couple moons they'd be more like apprentice.
​

 

[DEERPAW -]

Skunktail had kits? The concept is so alien to Deerpaw that their eyes are wide beneath furrowed brow, flicking back and forth between their father's friend and his supposed offspring. The noisy one is right; Hawk, who seems the quietest out of the clutch so far, is nearly a spitting image of the warrior. Huh. They arrive close in tow to Roosterstrut, never far from the ginger warrior ever since their reassignment to him, and offer him a slightly suspicious glance. Did he have any kits they needed to be aware of?

"Are they going to stay in the apprentices' den, Chilledstar?" They venture, demeanour frosty but not hostile. Mentally, they hope the leader will choose to make Skunktail's kits follow him around like a row of noisy ducklings: they can't imagine their denmates would be too thrilled by the oversized newcomers, even if Sharpshadow had still only semi-recently vacated their old nest-spot. Their littermates, however, might. Sharp eyes soften briefly at the thought; Ptarmiganpaw and Muddypaw would likely be drawing stories from them soon enough. Maybe they'd be able to pass that knowledge onto Deerpaw, if they chose not to pursue it directly themself.

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[jitterbug]

"Would be fairest," ey murmurs, more to emself than anything. Eir face twitches in a grimance as ey considers the three in front of em; Jitterpaw doesn't really think the Clan needs these other cats around, even if they are children of one of eir Clanmates. There's no point to taking in strangers; if ey ever has kits outside the Clan, ey wouldn't expect them to be let in solely based on relation. It's not eir call, though, however much ey might prefer it to be that way, so ey just mindlessly scratches at a rock beneath eir paw as ey listens to Chilledstar grant them permission to join, with conditions. Ey hopes that they'll at least have to spend time as apprentices before being fully welcomed as part of the Clan. It wouldn't be fair, otherwise, in eir mind. Eir neck jerks as ey considers the thought, the tic jolting em out of eir consideration to instead focus on the cats in front of them.​

​

"speech"​

 

[Hawkstride]

Hawk cast a grateful look to Snipe for his help in wrangling their brother's eagerness. They seemed to be on the same page, at least, about not wanting to make any hasty decisions without having all the information. What if Skunktail wasn't actually here, or worse, what if he wanted nothing to do with them? It wouldn't exactly make for a particularly warm welcome if they decided to join under those circumstances.

Before they were able to get a reply from the black-furred tom who met them first, another shadowy stranger appeared from the other side of the border. She seemed much more suspicious of them than the first, questioning their logic in wanting to join their clan for someone they'd never met. He fought hard to resist rolling his eyes at Pipit, who apparently dug them into a hole with his overzealous comments that they would now have to try to dig themselves out of. Similar questions soon followed from yet another dark-furred feline, this one seeming much more relaxed than the other two and carrying an interesting air of indifference about them. He glanced between the two newcomers, choosing his next words very carefully. "It's possible he won't want us around. And I guess, we might not be allowed to join. Perhaps we won't even want to, if Skunktail doesn't want to speak with us. But I suppose he has to make that choice for himself, right?" He was starting to worry that these cats might not even let them speak to their father at all.

And then a lighter tabby molly appeared, her gaze turning purposefully to the original ebony tomcat when she asks after him. Skunktail. His pale green eyes widened the slightest bit when the realization sunk in. It made sense, now that he knew what to look for. They were practically twins, excluding the small amount of his mother's genetics that presented in his coloring. 'How did you folks hear about Shadowclan, about my brother?' Brother? This was his... aunt? Hawk's head started to spin as the revelations kept coming. Just a few days ago he didn't even know he actually had a father, but now? Now he apparently had an entire family that he didn't know about, living here in a clan that he didn't know he had any connection to.

And then... Pip opened his mouth and spoke again. Hawk's expression turned slightly horrified as his chatty brother unceremoniously blurted out the fact that they were his sons, and that their mother had died. He gave Pipit's shoulder a light shove in a not-so-subtle attempt to get him to stop rambling, trying desperately to ignore the quips about being big brothers and not getting his mother's good looks. The fact that his littermate could behave so casually in the face of such a monumental discovery truly shocked him, though it probably shouldn't have.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure there was a more considerate way to have given you the news," He shoots a pointed look at his chimera sibling. There were many, many ways to deliver that bit of information without being quite so... cheerful and nonchalant. But he was grateful for Pipit's boundless enthusiasm nonetheless. It kept him from suffocating under the weight of their current predicament, topped by the fact that he still hadn't allowed himself to properly mourn Porcupine's death. "But yes, she's gone... and she wanted us to come here and find you." His steely gaze wavered slightly, feeling strangely ashamed of dumping this news on their newfound father, even if none of this was his fault. "We don't really know why she never told any of us, but I have to believe she thought it was for the best." Even if he didn't understand it. "Like Pipit said, my name is Hawk. It's... It's nice to finally meet you, Skunktail."

And now that everything was completely out in the open, there was a more pressing issue to deal with. Would they be allowed to stay? Did Skunktail even want them to?

The ebony-furrred tom took a slow, deep breath in, preparing himself to fight a battle he never could've imagined being in. But this wasn't just for him; it was for his brothers, for their family. For their mother. His moss-colored eyes fell to the large grey tabby who seemed openly against their being allowed to join. He repressed the urge to narrow his eyes in a glare, and forced a calm tone. "I understand your mistrust, but if you did accept us, you'd not find a more loyal trio. We can't do anything to change the circumstances of our birth; our mother chose to raise us away from our father and our connection to your clan. We had no say in the matter. His tail lashed at the thought. His mother had lied to them for their entire lives, and now here they were, left to defend themselves against a group of hostile strangers and fix this mess on their own.

"But now we do know, and if you allow it, we'd like the opportunity to know this place better.... to know you better." HIs intense gaze flashed to Skunktail, focusing solely on the shellshocked warrior. He almost couldn't believe the level of sincerity with which he uttered the plea but was equally surprised to realize that he meant every word. It had taken him a while to come around on the idea of this whole escapade, and given the less-than-warm welcome they were receiving, he still had his doubts about transitioning to clan life. But... he couldn't help the surge of curiosity he felt when he stared back into the green eyes of the tom who looked so much like him. What would it be like, to have a father?

He... actually wanted to find out.

His attention once again snapped back to the other ebony and ivory furred feline, the one who seemed to be the most relaxed of the group standing in front of them. Hmm. So this was their leader, then? His gaze flickered quickly between Smogmaw and Chilledstar, struggling to decipher the strange tension that seemed to sizzle between them. Their fate rested in his paws, then. 'Sure. They can join' He felt all the tension leave his body at the casually issued acceptance, releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thank you," he murmured with more relief than he would've expected from himself. At least he hadn't failed his mother in this.

Chilledstar continued on with a list of conditions, expectations for the trio that they would pull their weight once they joined the ranks of Shadowclan. Fair enough. He never expected to be, nor would he want to be, considered a burden to them. "That's fair. We can hunt and fight, we've made it this far on our own. But like you said, we probably don't do things the same way as you so... whatever training you think is necessary, we'll do it." Another pair of young felines joined the group, but their questions to Chilledstar were being drowned out by the buzzing of adrenaline coursing through his body at the prospect of a new future. He glanced for a long moment at his brothers, not wanting to speak for them but also knowing they were all on the same page about this. "We accept."

 

[Briarthorn]

BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.
It'd be quite rude of him not to at least say hello to his sons!
While the apprentice does not say anything, overcrowded with the arrival of her leader, her deputy, and several warriors, there is a noticeable change in the youths expression, warily curious eyes are quick to turn round with surprise and intrigue.
Skunktail is quick to step forward and reveal his identity, Briarpaw’s gaze quickly fastening to him, his nervous and heartbroken words as her mentor shakes his head, trying to grasp what was happening right in front of him.
Within moments they are accepted into Shadowclans ranks, and Briarpaw takes a step back to allow them the space to cross the border, if needed.
Hazel optics circle the trio of brothers once more, the way they stand in unity.
How strange. Briarpaw thinks, she cannot imagine her littermates being such a tight unit in the face of the unknown. Was that sad? … perhaps.
If there was a moment of silence that would fall upon the group, Briarpaw’s singular sentiment could be heard in a mutter.
"…oh, wow."

"speech"
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♕ —

•  

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[ASHENFALL]

˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 "Do they seriously have to sleep in our den..?" Ashenpaw scrunches up his face and makes his distaste clear at the prospect of having to share his space with the odd-smelling bunch of loners. He could not care less whether they were actually Skunktail's long-lost oops-babies or not, his stomach coiled at the thought of being surrounded by these strangers. His eyes narrowed and his tail twitched nervously thinking about waking up with their claws in his throat, mocking him for being so naive as to fall asleep near them, Stupid, careless, dumb little Ashenpaw!

"... I don't trust them," he mumbles lowly, more to Smogmaw than to anyone else. Though, who cared what Ashenpaw thought? It was only his den they were invading, and his throat they were going to tear open in the middle of the night or whatever... Oh well.

YOU'LL ASK, 'WHAT CAN I DO?' ˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 AND THERE WILL BE NO ANSWER

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — ashenkit . ashenpaw
  — ftm transmasc. he/him. 9mo apprentice of shadowclan. mentored by smogmaw
  — muted blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
  — smells of rainsoaked fern and swamp milkweed
  — currently in an era of guilt. all ic opinions!
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — icon by nya, fullbody by tropics, sticker by saturnid
  — penned by eezy
  

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