camp LOST IN THE ILLUSION [★] MEETING


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SOOTSTAR
"Let all cats old enough to race the moors gather beneath the Tallrock!" The yowl of the leader who stands against the rising sun rings through the camp. Many of her clan would awaken tired from the night prior where they had stayed up late for the gathering.

It had been quite eventful, a new code, the reveal of an illness that would soon plague them all... Sootstar gazes down at her clan. "RiverClan proposed a code last night, kits, queens, and elders are to eat first. I agreed to this code, but-" She realizes the next words she speaks will be playing with fire, but with caution the flames won't blow back in her face. "I find our methods of distributing prey have worked well. I don't feel we need to change our ways; we've always made sure the young, nursing and old are fed." Her point, why fix something that isn't broken?

With no invitation to disagree she moves onto matters she considers more important. "Last night SkyClan revealed they've been plagued by illness, they've lost one of their kittypet warriors to the disease. Blazestar describes that this disease brings on a cough, fever, makes cats delirious. ThunderClan was affected too, no medicine cat knows of a cure." With ThunderClan being their neighbor and having been exposed to SkyClan the night prior it would not be difficult for this news to spark panic. "If you find yourself feeling ill report to Wolfsong immediately. We've dealt with outbreaks like this before, but I fear for our safety with no known cure."
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There wasn't much a little fella like him could do, but attending meetings was certainly one of them. The familiar call of Sootstar's roused the napping kitten into full awareness. Excitedly, Redkit immediately bounded from the nursery and toward the meeting, with hope buzzing at his paws.

Large green eyes flashed past the forming crowd, and he hurried to the front, climbing up a small hill to perch. Taking a moment to scout the best spot to view the ashen leader upon her rock. Redkit shuffled about and was only satisfied once he could see the she-cat in her entirety.

It would take a lot to contain all the energy that buzzed through him, but Redkit knew Venomstrike expected him to be on his best behavior. Sucking in a breath, the small ruddy tom puffed out his chest, hiked his ears up, and paid as much attention as possible. He didn't want to disappoint his caretaker and wanted today to be the best day possible.

Unfortunately, it seemed some of today's matters would be heavy. Abashedly Redkit bowed his head a brief moment before glancing back up and listening on.
 



This sickness was something that Bluepool did not want to believe was real but no longer could deny. She had a hard time grasping the concept that StarClan would allow something like this to happen to WindClan again. Were the stars really so content to simply just watch them all wither away until there is nothing left of them? At this point she is convinced they must have done soemthing to incur their wrath but she cannot imagine what. WindClan had always been the most devout of all the clans... right? She, at least, had always been a fastidious worshiper. It was not on her shoulders, she had quickly decided.

The new code. Bluepool has no strong opinion on it. It made sense but like Sootstar had said they had plenty of prey and the cats who needed it were always taken care of. Why worry over something so trivial? Besides, she needed to eat when she could to keep her strength up so that she could hunt for those who could not for themselves.

"SkyClan has bees in their brains" she says, her voice accompanied by a hiss and her stump of a tail twitching in annoyance. They should not have gone to the gathering and spread around their germs. In fact, she was of the opinion that the second they had sensed any sign of sickness they should have gone running back to their twolegs and saved them all the grief.

 
Head nod in agreement with the talk of the new code, it wasn't really that important of a new rule. WindClan had enough food and good hunters to feed everyone in the clan tenfold, surely they'd be fine in leafbare as well, and it only made sense that those who needed food first would be the ones who got to eat first - the way WindClan had done it for as long as he could remember. If there was such a need for a law according to the other clans, what kind of messed up ways had they been feeding their clan?

Illness was... gross, and not something that Mousepaw wanted to hear about. He had work that needed to be done - WindClan still had work that needed to be done - and they couldn't afford to get some kittypet illness. Nose screwed up at the thought of it - WindClan getting sick with this plague and dying out from kittypets and he quickly found himself shaking his head slightly to lose the thought before carefully moving away. Normally, he wanted to be as close to the front as possible - he wanted all the news as quick as possible - but today he was quickly moving to the edges of the gathering cats, trying to stay a tail-length or two away from those that were gathering here now, especially those that had gone to the gathering.

At the mention of going to Wolfsong if sick, Mousepaw found himself scooting away slightly further. He reminded himself to quickly go "hunting" after this meeting, and stay out for a while.
  • [ooc]
  • windclan (sootstar) loyalist
    dirty fighter/will aim to kill
    will bully anyone (some more than others)

    likely to attack first
    powerplay peaceful actions okay
    ping if needed in a thread
  • 67979049_MZITqZdFire2IhL.png
    8 months old
    ftm calico -- he/him
    tunneler apprentice

    large ears
    always looks grumpy
 
( 🐍 ) Venomstrike follows after the bouncing, excited form of Redkit to the meeting with both of his ears perked forward as he does so. He sits near the kitten before flicking one of his ears as he listened on the announcements that would fall from Sootstar's maw and she mentioned a new law to the warrior code. He can't help but feel a little ill when she brushes it off saying that their methods are fine just the way they are, Venomstrike nods but knows that he would try following this new code. He could sacrifice eating and providing everyone else with their meals first then himself, something about prioritizing one self seemed selfish but these soft thoughts would never part from his jaws.

The last thing he wanted to do was cause issues especially when Redkit was around, he didn't want to seem like a bad warrior for speaking out against his leader. These thoughts subside when the news of a sickness reach his ears and he can't help but grimace. There's no known cure and a part of it made his insides twist and knot with worry. His wraps his short tail around Redkit as best as he could as if trying to shield the kitten from this illness. In the back of his mind, he worries for Wolfsong as well... He's expecting and potentially dealing with sick patients could be dangerous for his unborn kittens.

Once more he holds his breath and can't help but glance over at Bluepool as she mentions Skyclan having bees in their brain. Maybe she's right... Its selfish but... Skyclan had access to twolegs didn't they? They could've spared everyone this ailment. A sigh finally slips from his maw as ears lay flat against his skull as he dipped into his own thoughts once more. He had to think of brighter and better things... Like Redkit becoming an apprentice today, yes... He would be excited for the little tomkit that he sat next to.
( ME GUSTA LA MAÑANA; ME GUSTAS TÚ )
 
Weaselclaw is rarely asked to go to the Gathering anymore, and it suits the light brown tabby just fine. He is never in any hurry to surround himself with fishbrains and kittypet-lovers, after all, and the rank scent of the marshes are just as offensive to his nostrils now. He prefers guarding camp and putting those left behind to work on re-enforcements. Still, there’s always some interesting news those who go bring back with them, and as Sootstar calls her meeting, he listens with a stony expression.

His reaction to the third addition of the warrior code earns only a flick of a tattered ear. This one is sensible. He has no qualms about enforcing this as law, and he acknowledges it with a dip of his striped head.

Sootstar’s second bit of news, however… he can feel his fur bristle. “This is a sign that kittypets are too weak to live in the forest,” he hisses. A sign from who, he no longer knows… and he will not use StarClan’s name if he does not have to. “They’re infecting us all from the inside out!” He flexes his claws. Though the emotion showing most clearly on his face is rage, there’s a lance of fear inside him, too. Greencough had devastated him, and if there’s no known cure… well, he only prays Wolfsong can find one soon.


  •  
  • weasel . weaselclaw
    — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
    — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
    — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Oliver
 

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SOOTSTAR
The hostility towards SkyClan pleases her and it earns the clan an empathetic look, a rare gesture from the stone-faced leader. "Bees in the brain is a light diagnosis." She huffs in agreement with her hissing sister, a snarl on her face to show she shares the clan's anger.

Meeting the blue gaze of her mate she yowls supportively, "You are right Weaselclaw, yet WindClan once again stood alone at the gathering! The other clans crawled to Blazestar's defense. It would seem WindClan is the only clan that can see reason when placed in front of our noses!" She feels her claws pin against stone and her teeth clench tightly together.

She forces her fur to lie flat before speaking again. "Then to the darkest forest with the other clans. WindClan, keep yourself- keep each other safe."

"In this time of uncertainty I bring forth to you fivenew warriors to brighten our path. @sunflowerpaw , @Honeybadger. , @SEDGEPAW , @FOXPAW ! and @Goldenpaw step forward." Nothing pleased her more than to see hardworking apprentices, many she had known as kits, grow into fine young cats deserving of warriorhood.

She descends the Tallrock to stand at groundlevel with the young cats.

"I, Sootstar, leader of WindClan call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn." Green eyes look evenly across the five apprentice, all would feel the heat of her stare. "Sunflowerpaw, Honeypaw, Sedgepaw, Foxpaw, and Goldenpaw, do you promise to protect and defend your clan even at the cost of your life?"
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  • » SootSootstar
    » WindClan Leader
    » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
    » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
    » Excels in quick, short moves.
    » Fights to kill and maim
    » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
Cottonpaw felt uneasy upon returning to WindClan's hollow the night prior - early in comparison to some of the other cats, given she and her mentor ditched the gathering as soon as the kittypets announced their plague. She's clung close to Wolfsong, and though she's maybe uttered one or two things to him in the interim, she remained otherwise stunningly silent. Cottonpaw knows not what to say after all. She hardly slept the remaining hours of the night.

Her mother's call rouses her to unsteady, too-soft paws and she lingers by the medicine den as the other brute forces through the gathering's news. She must've missed the addition of the new code-law... though she figures it almost given. The young, old, and sick rely on the capable to be fed. (Who are the elders, however? She's unsure if they've had any in recent months.)

She flattens her ears as the discussion over the illness spreads - those damned SkyClanners deserve starless nights after this, she thinks. Cottonpaw's tail curls around her body and she waits for her mother to continue - only the mention of Sunflowerpaw and Sedgepaw bring light back into her eyes, her back straightening as she waits eagerly for the 'I do's' and name changes.​
 
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While he hadn't yet been chosen to attend a gathering, Luckypaw had still gone to bed late that night, and now he sits rather blearily among the crowd waiting for the meeting to commence. He hadn't gone, no, but Scorchpaw had, alongside Badgermoon, which twitches his expression into a soft frown. She had gotten to go see what it was like amongst so many other Clans, while he had waited anxiously for her return. Had she even thought about him, back at camp, or had she been too dazzled by all the new experiences? Did she wish he were there alongside her, or was it more fun without him there to hold her back? Stifling a yawn, he tries to stifle down those thoughts, too, at least until the meeting is over - it's too early to get all worked up over something like this, anyways, and from what little talk he's heard, important things had happened at the gathering. Not that unimportant things got announced there; or, at least, he assumed they didn't. That sounded like a waste of everyone's time, though maybe the other Clans were into wasting time like that. Thoughts reign themselves back in as Sootstar begins the meeting in earnest, Luckypaw gazing up at the Tallrock with eyes as awake as he can manage.

First up, a proposed addition to the code - kits, queens, and elders get first pick of prey, before anyone else. It's not a topic he's well-versed in, and he wouldn't dare add his own voice in to comment on it, but the idea seems reasonable enough, since those are the members of the Clan who probably need it the most. Probably it wouldn't affect him all that much, since he tended to eat later in the day after training anyway, but it doesn't escape his notice that Sootstar doesn't seem all that impressed with the proposition. Hardly does it matter to him what his leader does or does not agree to during gatherings; really, all that matters to him is what she announces to the Clan, and besides, it's not as though she's wrong. As far as he knows, they haven't ever had any issues with that sort of thing, and that thought sends his chest puffing up slightly with pride. WindClan is strong all on their own - they don't need any of the other Clans to tell them that! Glancing around, it seems like most everyone else is in agreement, too, which only makes him feel all the better about Sootstar's decision.

The mood quickly plummets with their leader's next words, outraged words and bristling fur all around him, though Luckypaw can't find it in himself to join them immediately, round green eyes instead locking onto Sootstar as he processes what she's just said. Someone had been killed by this new disease? And there was no cure? A shudder runs down his spine, and he sends a nervous glance out to the rest of the crowd, as though a kittypet might pop out at any moment, leaving a trail of disease and destruction behind them. The crowd around him crackles with energy, though most of it seems to be put into anger - anger that SkyClan had so carelessly mingled amongst all the other Clans even knowing they carried such a terrible illness, which is more than understandable. Anger bubbles up somewhere inside of him, too, but it's effortlessly snuffed out by fear; if this sickness really doesn't have a cure, then, what are they supposed to do if anyone gets sick? Sootstar says to visit Wolfsong, and even if Luckypaw does like the medicine cat, he's still dubious how that's going to fix anything if even he doesn't know how to help. Were they just all doomed, then?

Hardly paying any attention to what his fellow clanmates have to say about this new illness, he instead seeks out Scorchpaw, Badgermoon, any other cats he knew had gone to the gathering, green eyes sparkling with worry. Had any of them gotten sick? Surely Sootstar or Wolfsong would have announced something like that, but he can't help but worry his claws into the ground at the thought of sickness ravaging not just the other Clans, but WindClan, too. Scorchpaw hadn't complained of any ill symptoms when she'd gotten back, but he hardly knows anything about illnesses of any kind, let alone some new, deadly one; what if she still did start to feel bad? A world without any of his family is hardly imaginable, left only to his nightmares and deepest worries, and yet now there's a chance that Scorchpaw and Badgermoon, among many, many others, could be torn away from him. Equal parts wanting to seek them out, to nestle against his taller family to prove that they're still here and fine, and to run far, far away, Luckypaw instead stays rooted to the spot - he's not sure which decision would be wiser, and besides, there's somehow still more to be said. Warrior ceremonies perk him up slightly, neck craning to catch a glimpse of Honeypaw and Sedgepaw. What would their warrior names be, he wonders? What would all of their names be? Still feeling disturbed from the previous announcement, he waits with a characteristic silence for the meeting to once again progress, and for five new warriors to be announced.
[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]
 
The announcement of illness comes as a shock to the calico, but the origin of it is unsurprising. A mystery disease, brought on by the house cats of the pine forest, with no known cure? Perhaps this is some foolish, misguided attempt at warfare, she thinks, a classic case of Blazestar keeping the cure squirreled away from the other clans of the land—but if that were the case, why would SkyClan allow one of their own to die of it? Either the tom has finally lost his mind, or this is proof that SkyClan’s house cat population does no good for anyone in the forest.

Tensely, Scorchstreak shifts on her paws, golden gaze sparking with the beginnings of rage as she considers the situation that their clan is in. They could be infected, all of them, and it will only be a repeat of the wintertime plague that could have wiped out the entire clan. What if Luckypaw or Scorchpaw get sick—what if Sootstar falls ill, and leaves the clan without her leadership? Her worry is only lifted slightly by the announcement of a pawful of new warriors for the clan, and her gaze falls upon all of the named apprentices in turn, awaiting a response from each of them. She can only hope that they will be truly loyal to their clans, and not turn-tails like so many warriors before them had been.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
♢​ THIS IS HOW LEGENDS ARE MADE ♢​

honeypaw & 09 moons & trans. male & he/him & windclan moor runner apprentice

Honeypaw strides forwards on steady paws, confident and controlled despite his anticipation. Whiskers quiver and tail buzzes with excitement, but grey eyes are steely as they meet green - "Of course," he says, as though it is not even a question. It isn't. The tricolored tabby has been waiting for this near his entire life - from the days he first learned to walk and talk up until now, every breath, every moment has lead to this. Finally, he will become a fully fledged member of the clan - a windclan warrior. He's no longer the helpless child he once was, unable to protect himself from his mothers sharp words, unable to keep the sickness from @Beepaw . He waits with bated breath as others around him echo his call - waits to see what sootstar will dub him, what new name he will wear with honor.

  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • [bimg]url here[/bimg]
    a strange looking feline with nearly every shade of red upon his coat, and a badger-like mask of white upon his face. honeypaw is usually quite friendly and outgoing, an upbeat sort of personality; but when faced with those outside of windclan his demeanor is brutal and scathing.

    physically medium && mentally medium
    non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not allowed
    please attack using [b][color=#fed053]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 
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The meeting in which Sedgepaw becomes a warrior is tumultuous at best.

Illness, uncertainty—threats looming on the border and leaning closer. Sedgepaw always imagined that his ceremony would go on swimmingly. The day would be bright and clear, and Sootstar would call him up to the Tallrock with significance and pride. He'd stand tall, no qualms or concerns about him at all. Everyone would cheer for him. All would be as it should.

This is...not that.

The cats of WindClan sneer and chitter like the feral, moor-wild creatures that they are, bunched up together as though a sharp bramble that might ward off all illness and needless law amendments with the sheer force of its abrasiveness. Sedgepaw shares their dread. He's never been sick before, but he doesn't really think of himself—his brain snags on the thought of the medicine den, dreaded as it is to him now, overflowing with his clanmates. Of WindClan, plague-riddled and dwindling.

These are the things which press overhead like a miasma, and this is the backdrop of the most important day of his life.

But when Sedgepaw's name is called, he is not overcome with anxiety like he feared. The time for agonizing about his status, his postponed ceremony, his curiosities and soft-heartedness, has passed. It's a...grim sort of determination which settles through him as he steps forward, chin high and eyes steady. He's not unhappy nor bouncing off the walls with excitement. He's just...ready. There's no other choice for him besides this.

...Maybe this past moon really has matured him.

As Sedgepaw stands before Sootstar, closer to the clan leader than he thinks he ever really has been, his gaze unwittingly sweeps out at the crowd. He catches Cotton's eye without really meaning to—and she's smiling at him, so of course he smiles back. He suddenly hopes he doesn't look too ridiculous standing up here. He's got a scratch across his brow from his spar with Foxpaw still, untreated and hopefully not too noticeable. Maybe the younger cats will think he looks cool.

His attention passes back to Sootstar just in time for the rites to begin. She has a gravelly, serious voice—anything that Sootstar says has a weightiness to it, especially something as important as this. The creed is binding, of course, but Sootstar makes it feel like a pact. So he can't help the swell of emotion that fills his chest as she pins all five of them with her stark, piercing tone. Pride. As muddling and fleeting as it feels.

Protect and defend your clan, she decrees. Even at the cost of your own life.

Sedgepaw hadn't been chanting strictures when he'd launched himself at the fox attacking Snakehiss. He'd just done it, no thought about it. But when he'd woken up again, days later in the medicine den, slathered in herbal poultice and dust and cobwebs to staunch the bleeding in his neck, his elder warriors looked down upon him with light in their eyes and said: "This is what it means to be a warrior, Sedgepaw."

So, yes. "I do," says Sedgepaw. And he means it.​
 
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————— ☀ —————
YOU ARE THE DAYLIGHT

Sunflowerpaw is going to become a warrior. This is what they've been training for for their whole life, this moment.

They look up at their leader, at Sootstar. She looks small now, on the highrock. As a kit, she had been larger than life, an enigmatic figure of pure regality, a fearful monarch high upon the Tallrock. The picture of poise, more an unknown embodiment of all that WindClan is than a cat.

It shouldn't be surprising that they're taller than her. She's a tunneler, after all. And they're a moor runner, long legs like their half-brother, though without his towering height. Made to race the moors, leaping gait learned through trial and error. It's easy to see, when they walk, even with the scar being hidden by fur — the way they run different from their clanmates, though with no less certainty nor speed. They've learned, they've adapted.

They're WindClan, through and through.

Sunflowerpaw's head is raised high. Sootstar does not intimidate them now, the way she used to. They remember her entrusting them with spying, keeping a watchful eye on their Clanmates. Remember the fear it brought. She never doubted them. Would they have reported another cat to her, for doing as they have done, for fraternizing with the enemy? Probably. But Sootstar has no reason to distrust them. Their wariness is muted, guiltless, as they wait for her to call their name.

They are no less WindClan, no less loyal than any of those surrounding them. They have earned this name, they know, through blood and tears.

Sootstar speaks of sickness. She is small, and there is fear in her anger. There is a weariness behind Sunflowerpaw's eyes. They will face it as they have all that has come before. It should be a poor omen, to be granted warriorhood in such times.

They do not mind it. There is never rest, here, always some new disaster on the horizon.

And they are not alone. Five new warriors, their brother among them. There are eyes watching them, cats waiting eagerly for their promotion. It feels good, feels warm. Feels safer. Golden eyes dance across the crowd, catching on Cottonpaw's smiling face for a moment. Their own face brightens in return, ears perking up.

And then, it is time. Their name is called, not alone, and they come to face Sootstar more directly.

Sunflowerpaw meets their leader's eyes, unwavering, as she asks for their loyalty, for their life. They will not swear it to her, but to WindClan, to those who they love and those who love them, to all the ones they have left. Their voice is just barely audible to those farther from the Tallrock, softer than the other new warriors but no less steady.

"I do," they say simply, words slipping out with a rare and confident ease.
YOU ARE THE NIGHT
————— ☀ —————


  • //
  • SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
    — they/them, 10 moons.
    — windclan apprentice, mentored by houndthistle.
    — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most. rarely speaks.

    primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
  • "SPEECH"
  • 64267309_IEuvGOmxnhCCLcz.png
 
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i'm no good man, you won't forget—————————————————
He felt like a fraud.

His name called with others who he thought he was so below. He had put in the same effort as the rest of them, he had worked tirelessly to improve, and yet it seemed he never did. Or at least never in a way he could see. Instead he still felt like the small skinny apprentice that came up to Sootstar with nothing but a bloodied chin when she tested his hunting skills. He still wore that scar on his chin, it had healed poorly and now lay with no fur to hid it, he hadn't showed Vulturemask for fear his brother might be upset with him. He doubts he would have been, but Goldenpaw was upset with himself, and so everyone must have been.

This was supposed to be a exciting and happy day, yet all he could feel was dread. Sunflowerpaw was there, that at least was good, right? It was, but it certainly wasn't their whole family, it could never be. Goldenpaw scanned the crowd quickly for any cat that might be rooting for him, but he found none. Maybe Periwinklebreeze was, or Eaglepaw, but he couldn't see either. A wave of lonesomeness washed over his thin and powerful shoulders. Staring up at Sootstar, someone he still feared, he softly and solemnly gave his declaration "I do." He wasn't entirely sure if he was lying. There was no doubt he may die in a battle against a rival clan or whatever other dangerous thing Windclan faces next. But, was simply dying in battle the same as giving your life to the clan? He wasn't quite sure. He figured the difference wouldn't matter to Sootstar anyway.

rude words i said, i'm still a mess————————penned by WriteAboutRadish
 
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Redkit's chest filled with happy purrs that reverberated throughout his body as Venomstrike settled beside him. He offered the older tom a sweet smile and nestled into the gentle embrace of his tail.

Taking extra care to focus solely on Sootstar's voice, they shifted into a cozy position once more. In a flash his relaxed expression blossomed into more. It seemed as if stars twinkled in the young kit's eyes as he attentively watched Sootstar descend from the Tallrock. Every step held his rapt attention, and nerves buzzed loudly in his feathery ears.

When the molly passed by him, it took a considerable effort for the small fluff of fur not to impulsively rush after the leader in excitement. With wholehearted enthusiasm, he nodded along to the gray she-cat's every word, blissfully unaware of any hidden agendas and completely captivated by the charisma of a Clan leader, especially one leading WindClan.

They recognized that behaving like a rabid raccoon wasn't very warrior-like, and he resolved to be on his best behavior, even if it meant biting his own tail to steady himself. His fur suddenly spiked and his ears stretch high as the leader danced into the next half of the meeting. Tensing up, Redkit could feel his heart skip a beat as the she-cat called upon apprentices to receive their warrior names.

He eagerly observed each candidate step forward and agree to their solemn vows. This scene made his heart sing unspoken praises. Unconsciously, Redkit leaned forward, his excitement pushing him into Venomstrike's protective tail. It hardly restrained him from sticking his neck out, but it was just enough to keep their physical composure intact.
 
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SOOTSTAR
”Then I give you your warrior names. Honeypaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Honeybadger. WindClan honors your loyalty and ferocity and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan!” Sootstar steps forward and places her nose on the tom’s forehead. He’s proven to be a mighty feline, the ‘badger’ addition to his name would serve a good reminder to all enemies in his path who they’re messing with.

”Sedgepaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Sedgepounce. WindClan honors your bravery and swiftness, we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan!” Stepping forward she touches her nose to the fleetfooted warrior. She admires the fire that burns in his eyes and is eager to see his full potential unlocked in warriorhood.

”Sunflowerpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Sunflowermask. WindClan honors your resilience and loyalty, we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.” Sunflowermask, their future had been uncertain when they had gotten caught in that trap so many moons ago. Now they stood grown, a full warrior of WindClan. Houndthistle and Wolfsong taught them well.

Her gaze turns to meet Goldenpaw’s. ”Goldenpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Goldenstrike. WindClan honors your loyalty and hardwork and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan!” She is certain the name will serve him well as she steps forward and once again, places her nose upon his forehead.

Last but not least, ”Foxpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Foxglare. WindClan honors your discipline and steadfastness. We welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan!” Houndthistle’s son. Any child of his should show potential and she is pleased to say Foxglare has not disappointed. She touches her nose to his forehead as the clan chants their warrior names.

She gives them all a rare-earned smile before bounding up the Tallrock again. Once the cheering dies down she looks for a smaller figure in the crowd. ”Redkit, come forward.”
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  • @redkit
  • » SootSootstar
    » WindClan Leader
    » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
    » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
    » Excels in quick, short moves.
    » Fights to kill and maim
    » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
The Somali mix remained completely enthralled by the entire experience, daydreaming about the day when he would stand before the Clan and receive his full name.

I can't wait, I can't wait!

His claws instinctively flexed and relaxed at the thought, kneading the ground beneath him. Redkit's favorite part of the meetings had always been the jubilation of naming ceremonies. Thunderous applause erupted behind him, and the rumble encouraged him to leap to his paws, joining in the exuberant cries.

Having more warriors was a wonderful thing. It somewhat eased the tension he experienced from the earlier discussion about the ongoing illnesses. While the cheers subsided, Redkit settled back into the protective embrace of Venomstrike's tail. His whiskers tingled with imaginary electricity, and his smile beaming brightly.

However, shock wiped the grin from his face, and his round features lit up like the moon on a starless night. I-is it time? Disbelief frazzled the young cats mind but it was easily brushed off with a staggering sense of euphoria.

Questions jumped into view also, but each one raced past before he had a chance to form sentences. Without another thought, the long-haired kit sucked in a breath and held it. He immediately became aware of the crowd. An intense feeling of their eyes on him like a heavy weight.

The excitement still simmered within him, but the sense of modesty in front of his clanmates prevailed. Shyly, he stepped forward from the row of cats and positioned himself before the she-cat. They paused a brief moment to shoot Venomstrike a mixed expression. Bunching up his cheeks with nerves and giddiness before bravely looking back towards the rock.

Anxiety cooled the fires in his whirling mind, making him feel smaller than ever before. His ears drooped slightly, and his paws trembled as all eyes settled on his burgundy coat. Carefully, he stole a glance at the Tallrock, only to be ensnared by the leader's cool expression fixed on him.

Swallowing hard, Redkit politely nodded and acknowledged Sootstar's request. He continued to stand resolutely before her, slightly below, the massive stone casting a heavy shadow across his face. Their tiny frame sticking out conspicuously, and his wide emerald eyes met the leader's intense green gaze with bated breath.
 
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While most meetings are tedious and boring, Snakehiss figures that Sootstar will have a lot to say regarding last night's gathering. He joins the crowd, sitting tall and fixing his gaze on the smoky leader.

Snakehiss finds himself agreeing with Sootstar's opinion about the new warrior code proposed at the gathering. Why should WindClan listen to anything that pathetic excuse of a leader had to say? He doesn't see a point in changing their ways just because another clan said so. What would the other clans do if they found out that Sootstar wouldn't abide by their new rule; back them all into a corner and force them to bend a knee? He would love to see them all try!

The mysterious illness starting to infect the clans is brought to WindClan's attention as well, making Snakehiss feel tense and uneasy. How stupid was Blazestar to bring his clan and mingle with the rest of the forest when they were suffering from a deathly plague? StarClan, kittypets were foolish! Many disapproving murmurs and outcries began to pour out from the crowd, condemning SkyClan and blaming them for this outbreak. Snakehiss agrees silently, giving a twitch of his tail and a curling frown upon his maw.

A batch of warrior ceremonies is due next; he had spent a good chunk of his apprenticeship with the mentioned cats, though he doesn't particularly like any of them. He doesn't care to hide a stretching, nonchalant yawn as Honeypaw, Sedgepaw, Foxpaw, Sunflowerpaw, and Goldenpaw step forth. They are bestowed with their new lifelong names, although none of them sound as good as his. Sunflowermask's name is particularly interesting to him, though...

Opting out of the usual chanting, Snakehiss fixes his gaze next onto Redkit, the youth found abandoned at WindClan's border. Some even said that he smelled like a kittypet, perhaps the worst that an outsider could be. Hopefully his innate softness and laziness wouldn't affect his training too much.


  • 67742787_tPGcdYVUNzWpIz9.png
    SNAKEHISS
    —— he/him; warrior ( moor runner ) of windclan
    —— bisexual; single; not looking
    —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles
 
Though Breezerunner had not been fortunate enough to been among those counted to attend the gathering, he'd heard a bit of chatter in regard to what had been foretold there. Though he agrees with Sootstar's announcement regarding the code (and further wonders why RiverClan wasn't feeding those who need it most before their warriors), his attention is quickly snatched by her next piece of news. SkyClan. Of course the illness comes from SkyClan. Breezerunner can hardly contain the scoff that puffs from his mouth at Sootstar's news. It's any wonder how the clan of kittypets haven't managed to bring plagues and ails to the clan territories before now. With two feet in different worlds and loyalties divided, it's obvious why their clan suffers.

There are murmurs and cries of outrage at SkyClan's contamination of the clans, and Breezerunner agrees silently with them. There is no clan so swift and so cunning as WindClan, and as far as he is concerned they have no need for the clan of kittypets nor any of their sympathizers. Sootstar carries on with her ceremonies and announcements again, and Breezerunner pays no more attention to them than memorizing the new names given. Finally, Redkit comes forward, and he begins to pay close attention again. He, too, has heard the rumors of the strange kit smelling of twoleg and kittypet. Vaguely, he wonders if SkyClan could be strategically capable of planting a kittypet spy here, but he quashes that suspicion as quick as it comes.
 
Unlike those sitting beside him, Foxpaw had not been waiting for this moment for his whole life, or even most of it. Warriorhood came to him in a whirlwind of events, following a complete 180 flip of his life. Scarcely more than four moons ago, he had made his lone march into the forest, determined to find a life for himself in solitude. Now, he stood at the precipice of a life of devotion—to the clan that had welcomed him into the fray and to working to ensure their safety.

The meeting Sootstar called together that afternoon was tumultuous at best. Another clan had decreed it into code that kits, queens, and elders be fed before anyone else, and Foxpaw bristled at what must have taken place for this to be a point of contention anywhere. Fortunately, the rest of Windclan seemed to be in agreement, feeding those who were unable to provide for themselves was a given within the moors, and he loathed to consider that there existed cats cruel enough to deprive their own kittens of food. His mood was darkened still by the news of the disease that had begun to slither through the forest and onto the moorlands.

The crowd below Sootstar snarled and hissed at the enemy clan their queen had deemed to be the culprit, but Foxpaw held onto his steeled silence. Far be it for him to defend the honor of kittypets of all felines, but Foxpaw was familiar with the ugly face of disease. He knew that she sheathed her claws for nobody, and had witnessed the flood of death she manifested alongside her bloody-pawed mate, leafbare. Somehow he doubted that any one particular clan had any more control over the shifting winds of disease spread than any other, but he would make no objection otherwise as the others made tribalistic exclamations and other expressions of fear. The threat of sickness wrapping her tendrils around Windclan and killing every last one of them was real, and he had no intention of challenging it otherwise.

He sits stalwart as Sootstar addresses the five of them, gaze focused unwaveringly ahead, without a glance to see who would be watching. The moor queen implores them to bring their lives to the pedestal, to devote body and mind to the moorlands. For so long, his sole purpose rested only in his continued survival, the continuation of the existence of his own meager scrap of fur. He trekked forward in life clinging to his own dignity and the honor he forged so carefully tucked within his soul. Now, he was offered something to rest his honor on, a name to tie him permanently to the windswept earth and to the stars above, and he did not balk.

"I do," was his simple oath. He pledged his life to defend the honor of the moorlands and its inhabitants. His blood surged at the knowledge that it would be dedicated to the guardianship of the cats at his side, and his bones burned with a promise to see justice guaranteed to the worthy.

Foxglare would be the oath to which he tied his soul to.

  • OOC:
  • sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
    — cis he/him. 11mo moor-runner of windclan
    — bisexual ; single
    — a large, scarred, longhaired light ginger tabby with high white and grey eyes
    — smells like wet oak wood and dewy sedge
    — sounds like leon kennedy, with a vague texan drawl.
    — the straight-faced and taciturn adopted son of houndthistle, lived as a twolegplace loner until 7 moons old, now a moor-runner of windclan. stalwart and resilient, he is not easily shaken and lives by a very strict personal code of honor.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — icon by mercurial, chibi by vulture
    — penned by eezy