NAME YOUR COURAGE [ inquiry ]

[willowroot]

( ♬ ) it's a bit of an odd feeling to be alone right now. for the past few days, all of their time has been spent in the presence of the child who has splashed her way into the little family's heart. the nest in the roots of the willow has become crowded all of a sudden, comforting but stifling at the same time. things are changing around the river, making way for a new way of life and caraway is not sure how to feel. raccoon has gone and flung themself into the thick of things, making friends with the newcomers as if there's nothing wrong. buck sits at home, wallowing in her anger and emotion. caraway likes their little life on the shore, with their little family and traditions. but ever since boar came into their life, something has ached in their heart. the fact that they'll never be able to give the kid as good a life as she deserves weighs heavily on their mind, even as they enjoy the few days that have come with this odd type of parenthood.

it's why they stand near the scent of cats now, tail flicking anxiously behind their back as they await a patrol. someone in riverclan has to know something about raising kits. someone has to be willing to take in a child who needs a community. stars, caraway hopes so. they just hope buck can forgive them, hope boar won't run at the prospect of joining a clan. tufted ears prick forward at the sound of rustling in the undergrowth, and they shuffle their paws in an attempt to be professional. "hello? any riverclanner?" ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[POPPYSPLASH.]

the feline had been pondering. it happened a lot. in attempts to get away from everything, she just stayed out of the way, keeping to herself while trying to think about anything else but the current issue. she didn't care enough to get herself too involved but she did decide it'd be her problem eventually. just not now. with a yawn, her nose twitches and ears perk right back up at the familiar scent and sound. only seen once, heard and smelled once, but its unforgettable and how poppy hates it. standing up, she went to see all the ruckus, looking around and seeing caraway. they were asking for riverclanners.. yeah. that's what she was now, right? licking her muzzle, poppy flicked her tail, adjusting her flower to try and seem more presentable, but that same look stayed on her face.

caraway? i do wonder what they're doing here. they didn't look like the type to join a clan... or whatever. she just seems pretty content being on her own. which is cool. I can't blame them. if I could hunt well enough, i'd be alone too. it's more ideal than being around a bunch of annoying cats who want to be better this little thing called a clan and raise kits. ugh. annoying.

"we meet again, hm?"
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[ I'LL GIVE YOU THE WORLD ]​

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : the child had been weighing heavy on his mind, ever since their little excursion on the riverside. her, struggling, grasping onto the rock for life while her mother watches ; a cold, empty glee settled deep into the darkness of her eyes. it almost reminded him of a fish. glassy, wild, thoughtless aside from a base instinct to survive. she'd been but a little thing despite her size, with mottled fur scarred beyond one her age should bear. he hates to think of them open, the image of her cowering aside caraway all too vivid in his mind ; the way she'd refused to glance up, to speak despite her fear. she'd said not a word the whole time. she'd not even screamed, clinging ahold for what would have been only moments more if the brown felidae hadn't shown up. cicadastar was thankful for them. he would readily admit it, the blossom of appreciation that rioted in his chest despite the riverborn family's hostility towards him. he wanted nothing more than for the youth to be safe, and as he watched the molly leave with caraway, he could only hope they provided just that.

it's why is is surprised to see them ; standing tall and peering into the undergrowth, calling for any riverclanner, " I'll do you one better. " the man speaks, the ghost of a smile passing his lips as he emerges, reed clinging to the water - slicked curls of his coat. icewater luminaries look them up and down, head pivoting and expression morphing to a cautious interest as he comes to a standstill beside poppy. he gives her a brief, warm glance before returning his focus towards the riverborn felidae, "we've not formally met, though i do remember you. my name is cicada, leader of riverclan." he cant shake the feeling they were present to stir trouble, and his only thought could be of the small tom that had joined their ranks recently. he was finding he liked raccoon, and the idea of causing any issue for him stirs an inkling of dread in his chest, especially with a cat he couldn't help but admire, " what can i do for you? "

out of character information translations

• − CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
  − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
  − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers
  
  
• none.

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[willowroot]

( ♬ ) anxious eyes light up at the sight of the familiar grumpy she-cat whom they'd met only days previously. giving their chest a few self conscious licks as the woman approaches, an apprehensive smile will greet her. "it seems so," they agree, a small huff of laughter snorting from their chest. "it's good to see you, poppy. sorry for offending your nose with my scent for a second time." this reference to their previous interaction sends a spark into their heart. something in them hopes the femme remembers. "i had a question about your group." they're about to elaborate when the deeper voice interrupts, accompanied by the dark mottled pelt of a man caraway has seen from afar only a few times. he introduces himself, smoothly making it known who is in charge. they flick their eyes across the man's face, recognizing the guarded protection he feels about his group. he's not so different than buck, they realize.

offering a dip of their head, the smoke addresses the tom. "yes i remember you. my name is caraway. i'm here about.. well it's something i've kind of been wondering for a while." they pause, licking their lips nervously. it's not that she doesn't trust the man, but really he is quite intimidating, even when he's not bristling in anger like he had been the day boar was rescued. "as you know, um, i'm currently caring for that kit that i rescued from drowning. boar's her name. i live in the willow with buck and raccoon." another awkward pause because caraway is well aware of how the tom knows her family members. buck has grumbled many times about the leader, while rac bounds back with stories of camp life. "boar lives with us too but i'm kind of worried that she's going to get bored or want to learn more than what i can give her. i'm not saying this is like a definite thing but i guess i was wondering if riverclan takes care of kids." the last sentence is pushed out of their mouth as if they're afraid of what they'll find when they come to the end.

slender black paws scuff the earth as caraway takes a breath, trying to remember if they've got anything else to say. "i know you don't really like my family that much. buck is protective of the river and she's not going to let it go easily. but i want boar to be able to grow up in a safe place. if we have to leave, i don't want her to have to travel far with us. she deserves a home that is always there for her."
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( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[Foxpaw—]

Fox pads close to Cicadastar and Poppy, giving the smoke a weary look. She recalls the other feline well -- she'd been the one to dive into the water after the kit who'd been cast away by its mother. "How is she doing?" She asks, her voice low and shy.

At the black smoke's inquiry about whether or not RiverClan takes care of kits or not, she blinks in surprise. "Of course we do!" There's a touch of indignation in her tone. "All of the Clans do."

She flicks an ear, thinking about her siblings in ShadowClan. She supposes she doesn't know for a fact that all of the Clans take care of kits, but it was true once.
​

PENNED BY MARQUETTE​

 

[Harry Styles]

A S H K I T
-
it's a long way forward, so trust in me

A fluffy orange kitten appears, gleefully unsupervised. She loves to sneak out but hates to get caught, and the problem with that is she can never resist tumbling into grown-up conversations.

Ash pokes her head out from behind Cicada's legs, then ducks back, content to hide behind her leader for the first few exchanges. And then Caraway asks a question which Ash can answer, so she does, puffing her chest out and opening her mouth wide.

"I'm a kit," Ash announces. "RiverClan takes care of kits and I can tell you lots about it, like how the grown-ups can be dumb sometimes, because they won't let us play by ourselves in the river or climb big big trees or sneak out of camp." Right this moment, for instance, Ash is not supposed to be here. "But other than that this is pretty much the best place ever to live, so yeah."
​

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

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ooc quick tags

• haha funny meme here ​
• - three moons old
  - will bite you
  - will put nettles in your nest
  - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
  - she's trying her best, i swear ​

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : out of the options he’d scoured his mind for, he’d not considered the one she offers now. their name was caraway, and as they say it the word ghosts upon his lips, as if silently testing the way it fits on his maw. the feline is nervous, fidgeting visibly and his heart goes out to her despite his wariness. hostility never once injects their tone, sounding all the while uncertain about their own words despite the firmness behind them. boar. the child’s name is boar, and she is living with caraway along with raccoon and another named buck. he can only assume that to be the light brown molly who had cornered him so soon after their trek to the river, spitting vitriol and insults she claimed to have heard from gossip by the waterside. fox asks how she's doing and his ears perk, eyes alighting with interest. from how the black smoke acted, she seemed to be doing well. his shoulders visibly deflate, a sigh falling heavy from a maw that slopes just slightly upward in relief.

he could trust her, he thinks ; icewater luminaries drifting overhead to catch the fleeting glimpse of duck as they head for the upper tree line, feathers a now familiar offcolor black. from the fidgety way she moved, never wavering despite the way she refused to meet his eye for long. nervous yet steadfast, putting a kit she’d known for barely a moon above her family’s feelings toward him. i was wondering if riverclan took kids. the tortie blinks, frostbitten hues blinking for a fleeting second before interest tilts his narrow skull once again, “ fox here is correct. kits will always be welcome within our borders. “ the man repeats for emphasis, because of course. he would never let a kit fall behind if he could help it. hare whiskers had given him a chance when he was young, and he would extend the same paw, “ boar is more than welcome in riverclan, without question. you have my word. “ he would see to it. i know you don’t really like my family very much. his ears perk, a quiet sigh falling from his dark maw.

“ it’s not a matter of liking. your family posed a threat to my clan — my children. ive watched them starve once, but i will not be so helpless again. “ his gaze is far away for a moment, frigid glass around sun - narrowed pupils. the stars had led him here, had given them food here. there was no telling the consequences of disobeying, straying from their vine. he had too many to care for, too many to look after. his mouth opens to continue — but suddenly, a spring of ginger erupts from the reeds and before the blur has a chance to settle he knows who it is. the little molly was sneaky and too tiny, almost comically so compared to the leader himself. ashkit. the fiery molly bounces in front of him, spouting just how she felt about living within their walls and despite the flare of panic and irritation born from repeated escapes from camp, he can’t help the twitch of a grin that pulls at his maw. be serious. be serious. his ears twitch, tongue clicking as he pivots his head to look at her, “ speaking of not sneaking out of camp — “ the smoke chastises, his voice trailing on a sigh and hues shifting to giving her a stern look, “ we will have a talk about that when we get back. again. “

finally, cicada would look back towards cara, curled tail coming to sweep around ashkit at his side to ensure she didn’t wander off down towards the water, “ i don’t mean to run you from your home, but the clans have split and the rivers are our home now as well. buck . . “ the name feels odd on his tongue, the unfamiliarity of it heavy on his accented tone, “ and i have shared a few words, im sure you’ve heard. she will have to see me directly . . “ he was not as fond of her, and it shows in his tone ; rains death had taken a heavy toll on him, and the argument so shortly after his arrival unnerved him still. he takes a breath, “ and i can’t promise forever, but your family is welcome in riverclan, caraway. “

out of character information translations

• − CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
  − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
  − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers
  
  
• none.

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