pafp lovely days | double-joining

[matcha]

Funny enough, he never did take her on a date to see his stomping grounds, which is why she trudges farther from her folks den than ever before. She trails after her friend with idle conviction, her skin prickling beneath her fur. I care not to fight their battles that they can resolve on their own, she had once said but Gabriel did not have to do much convincing. All he had to say was that he was joining and as his best and ONLY friend (she claims so, at least) she followed after him.

"It... smells weird out here, dear." her nose wrinkles disdainfully as eyes flutter shut, taking in new scents that flood her nose. Much different from the sweet-smelling garden that her folk built for her, something dangerous looms, her chest feels tight. Her gaze flits to Gabriel, who looks like he's having the time of his life (though doesn't he always?) and she finds herself gritting her teeth. Annoyance courses through her at his smug smile, like it always does without fail, but the only indicator of it was a twitch of her ear. Gabriels movements draw to a close, he stops in front of a certain strong smelling fern, something that makes her look at him with a blank stare. "What are you doing? Skyclan won't be out here." her tone is akin to blunt claws, monotone as she narrows her eyes, stepping forwards to curl around him. Her ivory fur brushes against fawn but she makes no move to pry herself from being so closely pressed against him, scanning the underbrush for movement, scanning for what he's looking at. "Ah, wait- this is what you called the 'border', huh?" and from the looks of it, it was very important- information fell in to place, thats why this spot smelled so strongly of other cats.

// pls wait for @GABRIEL :3 <3​

"speech"​

 

[GABRIEL]

જ➶ To say that he isn't having the time of his life is an understatement. Truly he is because Matcha has decided to join him on this little endeavor, a dangerous changing of the winds and he enjoys testing the limits of luck. His smile looks dangerously on his muzzle as he walks and he can't help the chuckle that leaves his throat. Perhaps he should have taken her on that date afterall, get used to such smells that linger beyond her garden. "I'm sure you will smell many different things out here. Some can be quite off putting." His paws do not waste time in guiding his possessive friend toward where he has seen the Skyclan cats linger, they always come this way to the twolegplace and piss everywhere. At times he finds it irritating but he supposes that he understands their process. As he pauses when the scent becomes horrendously strong his eyes shift toward the molly as she questions about what he is doing. "Giving them a smidge of respect. They are suckers for stuff like that."

He does find amusement as she slips along him, pressing against the lighter side of his body as she examines the smell. Indeed it is something worth taking note of and he lifts a paw to lick the back of his paw almost thoughtfully. "Yes it is their border. The beginning of what they deem is their's. So we should wait here and a patrol should be by any time now to address us. Don't get any funny ideas, darling." He teases casually before looking out into the forest.​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He's sad, sadder than he's ever been when he rounds a trunk to see a familiar face. Half - and - half; tawny and mocha. The cat with the rotting breath, and here they return with a friend. He smells nothing as terrible, today... Perhaps today's poison was masked under soothing scent. Perhaps it was so deep within their bones that it no longer shone through their teeth and through their tongues. Though... Dawnglare's nose has never been wrong before. otherwise, he would see something... feel something... He murmurs a silent question to the one slumbering beneath the earth, and She returns to him something vague, something that only has his frown deepening as he approaches.

" Oh, you again, " he says without anger, his voice only despairing. Utterly rude, for him to show his face again. Disrespectful even, for him to... for him to... " No one ever listens to me here, " he says sadly, lip trembling. And its true; its true. Life has only been hard since he moved to this dreaded place... Perhaps he should take these cats' place; sink into their warm featherstuff while their housefolk were none the wiser... " You should shoo. Shoo! "he proclaims without fire, snout drooping in an expression akin to that of a sniveling kit.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: —

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[Fireflyglow]

Hefty paws carry the seal point through the forest, hot on his mentor's tail as he listens to him greet some strangers at the border. He rounds the same tree Dawnglare had, ears swiveling forward as ghostly blues stare sightlessly in the direction of the two cats. Were they a mated pair, the two of them? Something shifts uncomfortably beneath his skin at the thought. They didn't need any more lovey-doveyness.

"I'm Fireflypaw," He hums aloud finally, paw sweeping over the ground in thought. Blades of grass brush between his toes, relieving him of any tension in his shoulders. Mother would watch over them, in these trying moments- and Dawnglare's temper, too. Shoo, shoo! Dawnglare calls, and Fireflypaw chuckles at his mentor's words. "Shouldn't we ask what their business is here first?" He suggests softly, head bobbing owlishly.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 12 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[SLATE]

Dawnglare and Fireflypaw weren't particularly favorable in the lead warrior's eyes, seeing as they had "operated" on him against his will, but they were healers who needed a warrior's company while out scouting for herbs ( especially near the border of the twolegplace ). Slate severely doubted that Dawnglare could hold his own against a particularly aggressive rogue; what was he going to do, shove leaves in their mouth? And Fireflypaw couldn't see, for one. Slate supposed he'd trail along if not to just get a breath of fresh air, as long as they didn't try anything else funny on him.

When the healing pair stumble across another duo waiting at the border, the charcoal-hued tom follows to see what they were dealing with today. To Slate's surprise, vague memories jog his brain as he sets his sights upon the male in particular. He's fairly certain that his name is Gabriel, or Gabe or something. Slate was never close with anybody on the streets, not after the betrayal and trauma he was put through as an adolescent. However, as a city local, Slate knew of a lot of cats who roamed near his turf — especially those with a reputation. Whatever interaction he and Gabriel may have had, it mustn't have been long-lived ( nor particularly friendly ). However, it seems that circumstances may have changed since Slate last set paw in the twolegplace, seeing as the split-faced tom was now traveling with what Slate could only assume to be a kittypet. She seemed well-groomed, not one droplet of sticky monster substance or a smudge of dirt upon her silky smooth pelt. As he approached, an undeniable stench of twoleg nest also accompanied Gabriel's partner. "Hangin' 'round a kittypet? That's new. Thought you beat 'em up for pleasure." Or so many street cats claimed.

The burly Maine Coon stands with the medicine cats, gruff expression boring down onto the pair as he flexed his claws idly... or maybe not so idly. Other rogues used to only mean trouble for Slate while residing in the city; it was a force of habit, he supposed. One could never know when they would have to jump into combat in order to save their own skin. "Well? Whaddya' want with SkyClan?" It still feels foreign upon his tongue, wearing his allegiance like a shiny badge and flaunting it to the other street cats that he once shared a home with. Slate doesn't like to think of it like he had gotten "too good" for the life of a rogue; it was more so that life was beginning to seem hopeless. He had shown up on SkyClan's borders with a groaning belly and fresh scars scattered across his form; prey was growing scarce due to the booming population of the twolegplace, as were available territories. If Slate had remained on the streets for much longer, he likely would be fighting for his life every waking moment. SkyClan was a place where he didn't have to do that.

SkyClan was his home now. Many of his clanmates were less than tolerable, but living in the pines was better than fighting over scraps and the stinky, dark and damp alleyway that he once called home. He had a purpose here — kin to protect — and he wouldn't let some untrustworthy faces waltz right in without getting past him.​

 

[matcha]

"Do you know him?" her annoyance is so very evident in her voice, though not directed to the weird plant-smelling cat and rather to her fellow half-furred friend. Jealousy is her righteous anger, a sword burned in holy fire- it takes a couple seconds for her not to descend her wrath upon him, rather taking on a sweet smile. "No, no! You have it all wrong," her voice is a hum, taking a deep breath in, exhale. It's okay, she reassures herself. "We're peaceful. I promise you." she nods, flicking her nubbed tail in response to what the younger one said.

Her ear flicks irritably as another cat approaches and she resists the urge to scream. How many damn cats know this guy? If she had been any more irritable today she would have taken her paw and smacked him right over his head, wiping that stupid grin off his face. She only curls around him tighter, her smile becoming somewhat strained. "We want to join. I would like to be one of your daylight warriors." she sniffs, her eyes landing on the scars that cut through the night-pelted males face. I want to learn how to fight, its an idle thought, one that contradicts her previous words. It slightly surprises her, but its welcome to stay as long as she stands here. I want more, her house-cat life was so terribly dull... Not to say she didn't love her Folk, but just staying in the garden has become dull. "I'm Matcha," she says her name with immense pride, putting a paw to her chest before she gestures to Gabriel. "And... I assume you all know him, Gabriel."​

"speech"​

 

[MOMOWHISKER]

"Me, I.... I don't know Gabriel," Momowhisker said sadly, his bat-like ears drooping in apology towards the other SkyClanner. It wasn't necessarily his own fault, what with the temporary restrictions placed upon his travel and the inability to socialise with his clanmates at nighttime, it seemed asinine to believe he'd be able to know everyone, though a lump in his throat formed when he realised that was the likely expectation. Walking closer, the lynx point settled next to Slate, hoping he'd earned some favour with the Lead Warrior by being the one to rescue him from those horrifying cages. It felt like a gamble, but one that wouldn't result in blood and violence if it didn't pay off, only hurt feelings (he preferred the sticks and stones to words, the longer he dwelled on the subject). With a quick wave of his tail, Momo whispered, "Hi Gabriel,", the name foreign on his tongue. He would have to get used to it. Recognising that he was getting distracted, the Oriental tipped his angled head and threw it back, a wide smile stretching his thin muzzle. "Oh, right! You said you wanted to be a Daylight Warrior, right?" Blue eyes brimmed with excitement - finally, another one!

Just as he was about to welcome Matcha, his eyes widened as if remembering something and the point let out a peal of nervous laughter. "I... actually can't let you in. Not because you've done anything wrong! Just because... well... I'm not high-ranking enough." Luckily for Matcha and Gabriel, someone high-ranking was present. Unluckily for Matcha and Gabriel, that cat happened to be someone who loathed kittypets even more than he loathed having in-tact ears. Sure, there was Dawnglare and Fireflypaw as well, but the authority of the medicine cats lay with StarClan moreso than with tangible matters. He could imagine how much it was eating the Maine Coon up, getting to accept more faces into the clan but at the expense of at least one of them being a 'pampered' pet. Undecided on how to proceed, Momowhisker rocked on his paws, chewing the side of his mouth as he contemplated whether he should stay silent or rub it in a little. Somehow, both seemed like utterly, utterly terrible actions. "He is though." The tom pointed his striped tail towards Slate. "Are you going to let them in?" He asked the Lead Warrior, keeping his tone as innocent as he could - though, it was hard to deny he wasn't enjoying the question at least a little bit.

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[Fireflyglow]

There's a hint of wariness in the she-cat's tone as cats recognize her companion, tail twitching in amusement behind him in reaction to it. Hefty paws stroke down the fur on his chest in thought, before Momowhisker's words catch his attention. "Slate?" He mews towards the lead warrior, ghostly blues wide in question. The femme introduces herself as Matcha, and the other as Gabriel, and Fireflypaw has to resist the urge to cackle at the names. What type of names were those? They sounded so weird!

"Well, it's ultimately up to Slate here to let you in.. Dawnglare and I are just looking for herbs, aren't we?" He turns back to his mentor with a smile, trying to make a point to get them away from this situation. Besides, the last time he was met with two strangers at the border, he had been blinded by rogues. He didn't want to stay here for long.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 12 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​