MODERN CONCUSSION ☀︎ JUNE PRE-GATHERING CHATTER


In his feverish excitement, Campionsong had completely forgotten about Thunderclan's attempt at prey theft, as though the full moon's light had enchanted him enough to gab and clack like an errant songbird. When he was truly in the mood, there was little any cat could do to stop the warrior from running his mouth. He paid no heed to his own scatterbrained manners, as the Gathering signified peace and harmony above all. (Though, to him, it seemed as though many did not listen to Starclan's word of the occasion.) "Ah, Figfeather! Quite a unique name. That is to be expected from the kittypet clan, I presume." The poet meant no harm in poking at her heritage, just as he found everything wrong with the incessant palaver of the loyal and nationalistic, for he found nothing to be gained in erecting imaginary borders and fighting over them. Former nomad knew nothing but the spark of wanderlust and new ground underneath fleet footfall. The idealist in him wanted to spout that there was little need to fight over what the forests and fields provided to all who squirmed as children under nature's keen watch. "The new season's not been the kindest to us, as our prey seems to be running a little thin. Perhaps they haven't realized it was greenleaf already? I kid, I kid. It's enough to get by, and certainly enough to feed my children." The jester jested, pelt shimmering like a moonglade paltering upon the water's edge.

( Interacting with @FIGFEATHER ! )
 
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"FATE IS A SUNDRESS" ˚୭ .ೃ⁀➷ tags ── DIZZYPAW HAS ONLY been introduced to the Gathering in passing - the words of Clanmates and mumbles of rumors shared over her head. She judges herself honestly maybe too meek for such an event. Would she be easily overwhelmed in the presence of so many cats that she doesn't know? She's not sure, but she had pushed her worries from her mind when Lichenstar, grace and elegance, had announced that Dizzypaw would join that throng of cats lucky enough to congregate under the Fourtrees truce.

Some sort of anxiety - apprehension? - pricks at her pawpads as she slinks into the clearing with the other Riverclanners. There has been much heavy in the heart of the clan, and she worries about how tonight's discussion may flow. How would StarClan see to any disquiet? She worries too much for someone who is merely an apprentice that has no stake in the higher politics. Still, it interests her (and her penchant for ever-empathy).

Everyone seems to keep to themselves, is what she immediately notices. It's saddening, honestly, that she finds no one to immediately speak with. Even those from her clan seem to branch off to find old or new friends... and Dizzypaw is all alone again. She finds herself wishing for Splashpaw, or Mothpaw... but she knows why Splashpaw couldn't come. But still, her companionship would be -

She is so lost in her thoughts that she does not realize that she has irreparably bumped into someone. Maybe it's more like crashed. She takes a swift step back and pins her ears back, embarrassed and very, very sorry.

"Oh, goodness, I didn't - I mean, I just - oh, wow, I am so, so sorry, are you alright?" Dizzypaw trips over herself to apologize to the other cat. She is so incredibly embarrassed. What a way to ring in her first Gathering! "I usually have more tact, I am so, so very sorry."

// we late lowkey but YOLO. dizzy is open to interacts - she has Just crashed into someone (or someones)!!​
 
He doesn't know why he came. There's a thousand– no, millions of scents mingling together paired with unfamiliar faces that crowded the clearing. He scrunches his nose up in distaste at the scents around. He doesn't like it. His plumy tail twitches behind him where he drags in the dirt.

When he heard about gatherings… they seem a bit overhyped.

He shuffles behind his handler– mentor. Mentor. His ears twitch where they stay flattened against his darkened head, as he glances at unfamiliar faces. With a frown twisting upon his maw, he splits away from his mentor to… find somewhere quieter. Gangly, dark legs push the longhaired tom, towards a secluded area. There were low - spoken words between clanmates, cats preening at their pelts and dumb gossip floating in the air. Nervousness strikes at his scrawny form, as he shuffles towards a random corner. Deerpaw chews on the inside of his cheek, as he settles on the ground curling his tail tightly around his paws.

Hunching over himself, shoulders raised nearly touching his mismatched ears. He felt... uncomfortable being here. Really. With a metaphorical dark cloud of gloom hangs over his head, as he watches all five clans mingle for whatever reason. His tail thumps on the ground, as he lets hazel eyes observe the cats mingling with a twitch of one if his feathered ears.
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  • ooc. just deerpaw being a weirdo. open for interactions!
  • no ref yet
  • ( i can't handle it… ) ˚₊‧꒰ა ♰ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ DEERPAW. ╱ thunderclan apprentice
    amab ; HE / HIM ; 6 MOONS & AGES EVERY 26TH.
    undecided / not looking / open to puppy-crushes
    a scrawny longhaired black/dark ginger tortie and white tom with hazel eyes.
    thoughts ; "Speech, ff7844" ; attacks only
    may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    smells like fresh caramelized apples & faint damp earth musk
    — all opinions are ic

    biography / @ on discord for plots
    — penned by calzone
 

The moonlight brilliance flecked along the cream spotted tabby's coat, as the molly trailed alongside her mentor's steps, the Gathering meteoric in the way it captured her attention span so quickly. Captivated by such a ritual, Celandinepaw did appreciate how there was just one night where those that warred and waged could be at peace, underneath the watchful stare of the full moon. Why can't it be all the time? If all the clans can come together tonight, why not every night? "Sure!" Celandinepaw chirped at Dimmingsun's request, ivory smile like the moonglow's glare, semilunate in shape yet never dulled by its shadows. Owlish eyes darted from cat to cat, of which rasping gossip emerged from tongues, some more acerbic than others. Furrowing her eyebrows, the molly sat down next to Dimming without much complaint. The roaring crowd of conversation seemed all too daunting for the former mouser anyhow, who had grown used to the moor's crooning quietude, and the Fourtrees seemed as though it were an obtrusive gilt of noise to her normalcy. Even the barn had hardly racked up such a ruckus...

A striped warrior ambled up to the two golden felines, the oak-scent a lambest glister upon his pelt, though Celandinepaw did not express any sort of disgust or distaste for the other's home. If she tried hard enough, the woody notes almost resembled the petrichor-ridden beams of the Horseplace. If she tried hard enough, she could find home in even the strangest of places. Raccoonstripe. Standing in as deputy. Just like Dimmingsun. A rather mean-looking (to her, anyhow) apprentice roosted just next to Raccoonstripe, though she hardly found herself daunted by those of gaunt face and grim demeanor, and wheat-flamed eyes focused incandescent upon Thistlepaw. Thin tail flicked behind her. "Oh, this is my second time, actually. I came when I first became an apprentice. It was moons ago." She purred - had it really been that long since she had come to Windclan? At times, it was as though she had happened upon the border just yesterday. "Oh! My name's Celandinepaw, by the way. What's yours?"

  • sorry for the lateness waagh / Interacting with @DIMMINGSUN , @RACCOONSTRIPE , and @THISTLEPAW
  • ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
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  • —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 10 Moons
    —— Moor Runner Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Dimmingsun
    —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
    —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
    —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.


 


Through the lively throng that floods the clearing, two silhouettes edge closer to the Great Rock, side by side. They carry themselves with a similar grace and a likewise aquatic tang—RiverClan. The taller tom's white coat is splashed by russet, and his pint-sized companion boasts pelt nearly reminiscient to Smogmaw's own. Vigilant to the incoming company, the ShadowClan deputy takes measure; his head angles marginally sideways, ears swivelling forward, tail flitting, nostrils flaring. They're lent his full attention, and it's reciprocated with introductions shortly thereafter.

His n-name is Foxtail, from R-RiverClan. P-Pebblepaw serves as the other tom's apprentice—and Smogmaw eyes him warily when he moves to engage Bloodpaw and Singepaw both. Amber eyes reveal nothing while they turn to the senior figure a second time, scrutinising in equal measure.

Foxtail bears a slight stutter, the type indicative to shyness or otherwise social anxiety, yet lacks no conviction. And though the tremble extends to his posture and the paws he stands upon, Smogmaw senses its causes are intrinsic rather than exogenous. As tempting as it is to project himself in a manner that inspires intimidation, this wouldn't bode well for idle conversation. Foxtail is merely a scaredy-cat, and that's alright.

"Hullo," he returns, to Pebblepaw first and foremost, before offering a "hey" in the RiverClan warrior's trajectory. "I'm Smogmaw, ShadowClan's deputy. Did you make a beeline for the deputies' gathering place for a reason? Or, did you just wanna talk to li'l ol' me? Lot of 'em are coming and going these days, seems." Not necessarily unfriendly, but not overtly receptive just the same. Brusque, straightforward, akin to how the lesser-aged tom addressed him.

Another interjects themselves, and recognition brightens his expression as his muzzle tilts toward her. This is the cat an eagle had plucked off the mountaintop, bent on making a meal out of her. This is the cat that Little Wolf died for. "I know you," he meows on impulse more than all else. "Cherry...blossom, eh? And, erm- yes, yes we have, thank the stars. Won't complain if I never taste one again, after that whole debacle." Embarrassingly enough, he requires a moment to recollect what clan Cherryblossom belonged to; and he silently curses himself, remembering how Orangestar herself had announced her promotion just last gathering. "You've come a long way, haven't you? The journey's still clear in my mind—feels like just last moon you were helping us up that cliffside."

// brief interaction with @PEBBLEPAW, speaking with @FOXTAIL and @Cherryblossom

 

Kittypet clan? It is blatantly clear Campionsong doesn’t mean offense by this, he’s a friendly Tom, but Figfeather is taken back. She doesn’t want to be mistaken for a kittypet- no- not that there was anything wrong with their daylights of course. But she was clan born just like any ThunderClan cat was. ”We have daylight warriors with lots of unique names, yes. But I am forest born.” ’I’m just as much of a wild cat as you are. Twolegs don’t care for me in the night, I take care of myself.’

She’s not sure where this insecurity of hers began its roots. Perhaps it was her clan-mates like Slate and Silversmoke, for the longest time as lead warriors of her clan they’ve spewed insults at their kittypet warriors. Maybe it was them- or maybe it was because she cared what the other clans thought of SkyClan, thought of her.

Figfeather struggles to find amusement in the situation but she forces a smile, the ThunderClan warrior has been nice enough. At least he was being amicable to speak to, she doubts a conversation with Raccoonstripe would go over as well. ”I’m glad- glad that your kits are fed.” She meows, ”Mine are hunting for themselves now. Two moons ago now they were apprenticed- I think.” She keeps an eye on them when she can but entrusts their mentors are taking good care of them. Soon enough they’d be full-grown warriors, pride courses through her veins at the thought.
  • @CAMPIONSONG
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Lead Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
    » Mentoring Daisypaw
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

"Ah! My apologies, then." Campionsong chided, voice light like a ballad laid in repose, or perhaps more like the canto of a chorus. The older warrior hardly understood one's heritage could possibly weigh on them like a leaden collar, but he had traveled so much that he had released his chains of inhibition. When one was trapped within the same forest for all of their life, it proved hard to see the world outside of the constructed bubble. At the mention of her own kittens, the silver tabby's face perked upwards, as if a hymn of morning had befallen his ears. There was some commonality after all, and Campion knew better than to harp upon their differences rather than rejoice at the similarities. "You're a parent, too? Your brood must be so big now. Already up and running at the apprentice game! I'm worried for when my children become apprentices. I don't know if I'll be able to protect them as they grow up... Ah, enough about that. Everyone's gotta get outta their shell sometime, yeah? If you've got any parenting tips, or something of the like, I'm all ears." The poet jingled like an envoy of the good times, though his tone had been tainted ever-so-slight by an ever-present darkness, though he soon shed it as easily as the snake set down its old coats. Despite Figfeather being much younger than he (and much more accomplished, at that), there were still so many things that the tomcat did not know. Like, for example, how to get four whining kits to adhere to an appropriate bedtime.

( @FIGFEATHER )
 

Figfeather nods along. She thinks about how much Coffeepaw and Sangriapaw have grown in the last several moons. It was strange to think they were once the size of a leaf, nestled at Fantastream’s belly. Nostalgia washes over her, things seemed so simple then looking back… Figfeather knows in reality that’s just how it appeared, her mind still thundered with inner turmoil and confusion even then.

”I get it.” Kinda, Figfeather responds to Campionsong’s expressed fear in being able to protect his kits as apprentices. She had been more than eager to see her two get out of the nursery and become paws, feeling that it’d become easier to relate to them once they began their warrior training. She entrusts their mentors, Slate and Johnnyflame, to train them well and protect them against any dangers.

When asked for tips her eyes almost bulge out of her head. Parenting tips? From her? If only Campionsong knew just what a troubled parent she was, he’d not dare speak to her about kits let alone welcome advice. ”Heh,” She chuckles awkwardly, ”You’d have to ask their mother. She’s the one who accomplished all of the hard parts.” She confesses, turning her head to give an awkward lick to her shoulder. ”I’m much less… I am not a natural with kits.”
  • @CAMPIONSONG
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Lead Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
    » Mentoring Daisypaw
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
Tonight was the night he would be responsible for another soul yet again. This one just happened to be his dear friend's child and during a time of many brewing issues. Dogbite knew it was a pitiful to lament in such a way but he felt discontent. Orangestar's call slowly lured the Skyvlanner out into the open. A part of them saddened to note their traveling days were numbered from here on out.

Despite all the bad, the lead genuinely enjoyed having an apprentice again in some ways. Given his failed mentorship with Littlepaw, it felt like a second chance to be a better mentor. He was teetering on a fine edge. Finding the cat in mind, he ushered the youth along as the patrol set out.

Even if the festering nerves of possible failure soured most of his thoughts, there was a part of mentorship he could see in a positive light. With the new subordinate in tow, the tabby kept a close pace with his clanmates, mindfully watching every step and taking it slower over more difficult terrain, hoping to be courteous to his much smaller student.

Soon enough, the looming trees indicated their arrival. Steering into the clearing, his pale eye peered around, noting many cats seemed to be mingling already, something he believed was a positive sign of how the night could play out. As they dispersed within the crowd, he looked at his apprentice with a half smile.

"Well, this is Fourtrees." His voice steadied to a reasonable volume as he meowed on. "How is it, seeing what a Gathering is like for the first time?" Keeping a steady rhythm, they aimed to stroll comfortably along the thinning groups.

Patiently, he waited for the other to follow suit and reply. Instinctively, he navigated Hollypaw to an empty corner of the fray to rest. Dogbite always preferred to watch from a distance, but he wasn't sure if the younger feline would mirror this preference.

  • speaking & interacting with @HOLLYPAW !

  • ✧ LH cinnamon tabby high white blue eye
    npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
    ✧ skyclan lead warrior ; ex-loner
    ✧ 35 moons old ; birthday 07/01
    ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
    ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
    "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
    ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
    ✧ penned by tasmagoric