NEVER LOVE AN ANCHOR ⁀➷ family

( ⁀➷ )  It's been days now that Fallow has been searching.

The woods are not a kind place, and Fallow bears their cruelty in the thinning of its form and the shakiness of its legs. Food has been sparse: scraps snatched from unattentive predators, meals shared with the kinder loners. She's resorted to insects more than once, and can't say she's proud of it.

The clanless lands are not all so unkind. She'd feared, both for herself and her family, after the rogues' attack. Wondered if that was what all cats were like, beyond the safety of the clan and her family's fox burrow. But there is comfort here too, loners with their own scars who will nonetheless turn a sympathetic eye to one this long. None of their kindness could last though; Fallow forges ever-onwards, slipping away from any who try to hold her in one place.

It seems nothing can deter the young molly from her goal. She holds the memory of her family's faces as firmly as she can in her mind, and wanders the woods. She doesn't know where she is anymore, whether she's growing closer or further and further away.

The sound of soft voices catches her attention. The smell of cats --

It's familiar, but she can't place it.

Fallow's ears perk up, hearing soft paws moving through the snow. She can't make them out through the thick underbrush. "Wh- who's there?" comes the shaky call of its voice. Golden eyes search for matching pairs with a hesitant, stubborn sort of hopefulness. She breathes out, slowly, digs her claws into the snow underfoot. Calls out again, steadier this time. "Show yourself."
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It was a voice she was sure she'd never hear again.

Her paws drifted through the snow, head lowered as she settled in the center of the pack that she moved with. Her siblings surrounded her, and Antler felt all the safer for it. Her head lifted, vision shifting towards the noise in the bushes. Her nose twitched- the scent of clan and.. well, it was stale, wasn't it? But it was cat, none the less. Antler's eyes blinked towards the nearest sibling to her, before she broke from the group.

"Who..." Normally, Antler would not be the first to be breaking to see who was there. Normally- but there was something undeniable about that voice and that scent she couldn't shake off. Someone that the siblings had been convinced was dead and never to be returned. Baying Hound's words from the past was an alarm bell in her ear, but she asked none the less, her movements cautious and tone even more so. "Who's there? Are you from the clans?"

 ° .  . ° 
  • ooc:
    "yuh"
  • ANTLERPAW — SHE/HER ・ 5 MOONS ・ APP. & THUNDERCLAN ・ PENNED BY DALLAS
    a small, lh cinnamon lynx sepia still small, with a brown patterned pelt and bright orange-gold eyes. looks naive.
 
A nose turns to softly reach for the curly, shorter furs behind her sibling's ear, noticing the way Antler practically quivers at her side at the sound of a hauntingly familiar voice. They were safe in their numbers... safe in their familiarity... The change had been hard and Doe still struggled to accept it, swearing she'd seen phantoms of a lost litter-mate in the corners of her vision. That she'd heard wailing calls of her name in the darkness, begging to be found.

Antler locks eyes with sun-honey gaze and she frowns, feeling the way her muscles tense to wander forward, to investigate the poltergeist. "Antler-" but she parts through the leaves to call out to the siren-song and Doe practically shudders to have acknowledged it at all. Giving the lingering pair a worried frown, she isn't willing to risk leaving their sister to her own devices.

They've lost enough.

Moving in swift, hopping motions alike her namesake, the dust-colored girl calls out in bleating tones, "There's four of us..." Maybe that would be enough to deter an attack. For this mysterious voice to know they are vastly outnumbered. "We don't want to fight you."
 

The shifting bodies of remaining sisters wakes the boy, and for a moment worry wracks his body as much as the cold does. Fallow had disappeared a few moons ago, and the occurrence had left him fearful of the woods, dreading whatever could have taken their wild sister from amongst them. Absently wishful of them staying, he grumbles into the ground as the two depart, wondering what abominable thing has piqued their interest. The brother wasn't particularly in the mood to rise and investigate.

A wintry sigh escapes his maw as Elk's skinny body rises and pads behind Antler and Doe dubiously, casting a look back at Fawn. He was a bit frightened to leave their sister alone, and grim as he trailed behind the other two. Cinnamon fur drapes off his thin frame, but the shivers are easily seen as Elk shoulders beside his sisters.

White - tipped paws seam into the snow as Elk forwards just a few pawsteps ahead of them now, and he tries to not let the trepidation be seen so easily. The blanket of snow makes the silence loud, and as he had followed Doe and Antler he could have sworn he heard something all too familiar ... but it was easy for him to disregard it as mere wistfulness. Fallow was rampant even then, but they were all so small a few moons ago. The boy did not get his hopes up in the imagined familiarity, instead scuffling up snow with wired forepaws as he anticipated whatever it could be.

Unconscious paws carry him forward despite his anxieties, and his broad head breaks up the brush where the ominous murmuring originated. Consternation drips from golden eyes as they landed on what looked to be a creature of the woods, a grizzly pelt of aphotic brown, dragging limb and two fangs glinting. It was no invented beast that possibly stole away Fallow ... it was Fallow. "Fallow!" It's Fallow!" Voice broke as he cried out to Fawn, Antler and Doe, and he rushes into Fallow in warm disbelief. Elk nearly topples her over in overjoyed greeting, they were all together again.


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  • ELKPAW ↟↟ HE/HIM, APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN. FIVE MOONS OLD. PENNED BY NORTH.
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    largely built, though he is fairly gaunt. long, poofy cinnamon fur with white drapes over a thin frame. white lines coppery golden eyes.
    ─────────────── 𐂂ᨒ↟↟

    NPC x NPC sibling to fallowpaw, doepaw, antlerpaw, and fawnpaw.


 
Fallow died in the woods. Fallow was carried off by an owl; swept up in its big flapping wings and kitten-piercing claws to be fed to its babies. Torn to pieces and scattered across the pines. Fallow's just a memory now—a lesson to serve them all well, just in case any other naive kittens get any bright ideas about being brave.

Her very name carries a weight so grievous that it brings tears to their cold, haunted mother's eyes, so Fawn's stopped asking about her altogether.

And it's been fine, after a while. The wind got cold and the sky turned gray and Ma said food would be harder to come by, so it's been almost easy to forget about their ill-fated sister. But time feels like it's been going slower—it's night longer than Fawn's ever remembered it being night, and the long hours spent huddled together with nothing else to do makes it easy to remember just what they're missing.

Fallow is gone. Fallow is the reason that Mama keeps them bundled in their nest—why she snaps at Fawn for having the audacity to take a step out of her sight, why she would cry while they slept at night, and eventually why she stopped. Fawn just wishes Fallow would come back and make everything better again, but this she keeps secret.

"Guys," Fawn chides tensely from the mouth of their den, reaching and failing to snag Elk by his fur as he noses out into the open. She remains rooted in her spot, sour-faced and frowning. Just like Ma told them. She didn't hear whatever voice they all say they're chasing after, but apparently she's the only one who heard their mother's demands for while she's gone. Besides, it doesn't matter what they heard—they all know what happened last time.

Still, she presses an ear to the bramble wall to better hear the voices filtering through it.

They're nondescript, at first, and then Elk starts to wail, and—"Fallow?!" Fawn parrots in disbelief, barreling out into the open and nearly crashing into the rest of her siblings as they begin to react.

She's hard to spot past Elk's leaping frame, but she's real. She's here. It's Fallow. It's really, really Fallow!

And it's Fawn, staring wide-eyed and frozen like a bug in the snow, like she's just seen a ghost.
 
( ⁀➷ )  Voices call back, and Fallow's chest squeezes tight. She knows them. Almost, they're older now, but she knows them. Deep in her bones, down to the marrow. She'd recognize them anywhere. Antler's voice, her sister's voice, returns her own hesitance in kind. Who's there? Are you from the Clans? As if she doesn't recognize it, as if - is it even truly Antler? Fallow strains its eyes to search the brush for a familiar striped pelt. It can scarcely breathe. Has she done it, finally, or is she just hearing familiarity where it isn't there?

She doesn't know how to answer the question."Yh- Um. I -" Her throat closes up on the words, caught like deer in a monster's gaze. Was that Antler's name, called quiet yet urgent, or just wishful thinking? It feels like she's in a dream. There's four of us, comes a voice that sounds so much like Doe, talking about fighting. As if she could ever.

Fallow can't stand it, this tense waiting. She's found them, she knows it, she can't stand to think otherwise. It barrels forward on clumsily excited paws --

And comes face to face with Elk.

Her brother calls her name and Fallow can't help but laugh, shaky and disbelieving. He recognizes her, even after all this time. Her stormy face breaks into a smile as he crashes into her, wrapping paws tight around him as though at any moment he could vanish.

"Yeah!" Her words are gleeful and unsteady. "It's me, it's - it's Fallow. I'm here, I'm - home." She buries her face in his fur, whole body shaking. "'M home." It's worth it. It's all worth it. She found them.

She pulls her face away to see the other three, everyone all back together again. Antler, Doe, and the faint shape of Fawn with her face painted in shock. "Sorry it took so long," she finishes softly, drinking in the sight of the siblings she thought she'd never see again.
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  • //
  • ˏˋ ° • *⁀➷ FALLOWPAW. THUNDERCLAN APPRENTICE. SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
    5 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SCARRED, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

    NPC xx NPC. SIBLING TO ELK DOE ANTLER & FAWN.
 
Elk shoves gently past her and another one of their litter, his impatience clear in his hurried movements. He doesn't wait to see who it is beyond the bushes and Doe is made all the more anxious for it. Why can't he just listen first? Fur plush ears flatten against her skull in a silent admission of fear- what if it was a trap? He disappears from her eye-line so quickly and the fawn girl trails nervously forward, hesitating with a paw lifted as if stuck in a web of her own terror.

"It's Fallow!" He screams in a joyous yell and from beside her, one of her sisters echoes the name like it is a heroine lost to history ages ago. It can't be... And then Fawn rushes past to confirm, ignoring the way Doe tries to intercept her. A voiceless cry of protest... It's a trick, she wants to say. Fallow has been dead for ages now... they will not see their sibling again. It hurts to watch them fall prey to such a horrible deceit...

They would just go home that night to cry about it later... Sob into her fluffy fur about how much they missed it.

Her lip quivers already, a wrenching feeling in her chest threatening that her heart might burst. It can't be true, and even as she presses through the undergrowth to confirm it, that too-familiar voice speaks. "I'm here."

Crystalline tears roll soundlessly down her cheeks to see white dappled fur, "I'm home."

"Sorry it took so long."

She practically crashes into her in that moment, eyes squeezed shut as the tearful molly wails, "Yo-you should be Fallow! We missed you so m-muuuchhhhhh." Burying a chocolatey nose into pale underfur, she continues to sniffle and mumble incoherently about how awful it's been, that mother has been miserable, that Fallow shouldn't have taken so long, how she smells strange and needs a bath.​
 
Antler stared wordlessly at the undergrowth as her siblings followed her over. Doepaw murmured her name, likely in warning of what could be out there. The sepia should have known better- considering the fact that she was more likely to run from these situations. Her eyes blinked gently as her other siblings followed in approach. Elk is bursting past the two of them, Fawn on their heels and-

Fallow?!

Her fur stands on end, and Antler is stock-still as she watches her siblings... rejoice. Reunite. Fallow is real, standing there whole and mostly okay, besides the emotion clear across their face. Antler's shoulders heave briefly, before a sob leaves the mouth of the smaller, vision dropping and eyes squeezing shut. One breath, two, then three. She couldn't get herself to calm down, so she abandoned the attempt, rushing to press in with the rest of her siblings against a mottled pelt.

"Where- where have you been? Are you okay? Oh, I can't believe you're okay." Words rushed from a shocked mouth, her ears lowering and tears forming in her eyes. Joy and fear alike welled inside of Antler. Her sibling was whole, alive- but that meant... did that mean the owl was alive? Did that mean someone was taking care of her? The clans? Antler's orange eyes widened, briefly pulling back to visually study their sister.
 ° .  . ° 
  • ooc:
    "yuh"
  • ANTLERPAW — SHE/HER ・ 5 MOONS ・ APP. & THUNDERCLAN ・ PENNED BY DALLAS
    a small, lh cinnamon lynx sepia still small, with a brown patterned pelt and bright orange-gold eyes. looks naive.
 
Baying Hound loves her kits more than anything.

She is a wounded creature in more ways than one, hurt going far deeper than the scars that trail all across her body. A creature of loneliness and isolation, herself against the world. The life of a rogue is not an easy one. She walks the world with eyes more watchful than weary, well-acquainted with all the danger the wilds bring.

Her kits are all she has. Baying Hound is too harsh and distrustful a cat to accept the help of anyone, so she toils on her own. She hunts, day in and day out, paws aching and stomach growling. She just has to keep her kits alive. Keep them fed, keep them warm, keep them safe. She had softened, once, seeing the little bundles of fur with their tiny scrunched faces, knowing they were hers. That softness is gone now.

She's not losing any more kits, Baying Hound has vowed it. She's already made that mistake once.

And so, when the scarred molly returns to an empty nest, she feels her heart stop. A frantic fear courses through her veins. They're not supposed to leave. Not without her. That's why she tries to hunt at night, when she can. It's easier to keep rowdy children in one place when they're sleeping, even if it brings her even more exhaustion.

The squirrel she'd brought back slips, forgotten, from her jaws. Baying Hound breaks into a run, her single eye scanning the dim forest. "Children?" she calls, voice tinged with terror. "Get back here now, what -- what have I told you?" Don't leave without her, unless you want to end up like Fallow. She chides with far too much bark, voice half a hoarse whisper to avoid drawing attention.

It doesn't take long to find them.

All piled on to some stranger, and Baying Hound sees red. "Get away," she snarls. A side glance is cast to Fawn, but the pride is muted. At least one of her children has some sense. She brushes past the muted pelt, shoving her way into the mass of cats to find --

A ghost.

The cat's resemblance to Fallow is uncanny, and Baying Hound can't breathe. It's as if her lost child has returned, decorated with horrible scars far too much like her own. Even in the dim the shaggy brown fur is clearly recognizable. "You... What?" she murmurs, voice hoarse and breaking. Blinks at the spectre before her as it blinks back, startled eyes wide and owlish.

What a cruel joke this is.

Fallow is dead. Baying Hound mourned her. This... thing before her, trying to take her children away, that's not Fallow.

"Mama...?" it whispers, a voice so comically pitiful it almost breaks her.

Baying Hound snarls, choking back a sob. "Get away!" she repeats, snapping her jaws out at the thing to drive it away. I stumbles back with a quiet cry. "Beast! Spirit! Come to haunt me, have you? Come to curse me? I won't fall for it!" Spittle flies from her maw, babbling and frantic. It can't be true, it can't be true. She can't have that hope again. "You are not my daughter, my daughter is dead!" The thing looks scared at her words, but it's not leaving. Her words build to a wild yowl, charging forwards.

And now it's moving. The thing that is not Fallow flees, and Baying Hound gives chase, teeth snapping at its tail. She won't let it take her children away.

"SPEECH"
 
( ⁀➷ )  Fallow's siblings pile on, and the laughter quickly turns to choked sobs. Elk, Doe, Antler... She'd missed them so much. And Fawn, who hesitates to join the hug pile. That's... alright. Fallow swallows back the hurt. It's been a while. Maybe she needs time.

For now, Fallow nuzzles into their siblings' fur, burying herself in them. "M-missed you too," she murmurs, soft and shaky. "'M okay. Been in ThunderClan. They took care of me." She's not quite sure how her siblings will take that given their mother's hatred of the clans, but despite everything Fallow's grown a fondness for the clan cats. She can't wait to tell her family everything.
"I-"

She's interrupted by the sound of shouting. Get away. Fallow knows that voice, but the fear that settles in her chest is unfamiliar.

She pulls away just as her mama pushes through, meeting a golden eye bearing an impossible tiredness. Her expression contorts into some emotion she can't recognize, murmurs something softly. But it's okay - Fallow's been waiting for her mama to come save it, and here she is.

...She's just staring. Why isn't she excited? "Mama...?" Fallow calls softly, and Baying Hound's face turns into a look of pure rage.

Everything happens very quickly after that. Baying Hound's words are nonsense, but they cut like claws through Fallow's skin. Insisting she's dead, that she's here to haunt her. Fear courses its way through her, shocked and uncomprehending. "Wh-- no! No, no, no," she pleads hopelessly. Her mama isn't listening, just snarling and snapping.

Before she knows it, Fallow is fleeing from her own mother, from the family she'd spent so long searching for.
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  • //
  • ˏˋ ° • *⁀➷ FALLOWPAW. THUNDERCLAN APPRENTICE. SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
    5 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SCARRED, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

    BAYING HOUND xx NPC. SISTER TO DOE, FAWN, ANTLER, & ELK.
 
Fallowpaw's response eases her a bit- Antler knows she had been taken care of, and for that much, she was thankful. Her heart was beyond star and moon when the tell-tale sign of a voice she knew well echoed through the brush, where the four of them had disappeared.

"Children?"

Antler's head slowly lifted, turning towards the source of the noise. Then, and only then, did she break from her sister's side- afraid of what was to come, afraid of the monster that had steadily taken over their mother. "I don't think this is a good idea-" Antler bit her tongue as Baying Hound broke through the brush.

And it seemed to collapse on itself, as soon as it had formed- that hope that Antler was already starting to cling onto. Antler is pushed aside, no rougher then she supposes she is used to, and her ears flatten to her skull as Baying Hound grows in anger, in rage. She can see it in her mother's eye, in her figure, and Antler's breath catches sharply.

She may have shouted or yelled when Baying Hound and Fallow took off into the distance- or perhaps, she didn't. Antler can't remember- she can't remember why she forced her paws to moved, anxiety sending prickling tears into the corner of her eyes. She was flinging herself into the undergrowth after her mother, and her sister, forced to give chase towards something she could not lose again.
 ° .  . ° 
  • ooc: — out after them
    "yuh"
  • ANTLERPAW — SHE/HER ・ 5 MOONS ・ APP. & THUNDERCLAN ・ PENNED BY DALLAS
    a small, lh cinnamon lynx sepia still small, with a brown patterned pelt and bright orange-gold eyes. looks naive.
 
A tearful smile tugs at the corner of white-lined lips, eyes squeeze close to relish in the familiar-but-different scent. To feel the warmth of hot breath, the rise and fall chest under her cheek. It really is Fallow... and she murmurs so sweetly of how she missed them too. The clan it mentions pulls at her to open her eyes, to give a wary glance to siblings who still lingered in nervous indecision nearby. Pulling away, a half-opened mouth is as far as she gets from asking for more information before a shrill summoning from nearby warns of an approaching danger.

When had mama become a danger to consider..? Doe doesn't remember. It had to have been recently, right...? After Fallow had disappeared, she'd become like a wailing phantom, waiting to leave them only once eyes were tightly shut for sleep. She was going to be furious-

Antler predicts it moments before it's made reality and Doe feels the sharp jab of a shoulder against her, shoving her away from comfort and warmth and reunion to hiss of conspiracy and ghosts. She gawks in silent protest, ears flattening as Baying Hound's complaints grow more and more enraged, more violent.

Fallow scurries onto its heels, turning to flee and mama is quick to chase her- No... no! It's not a ghost! She begs her tongue to articulate such things, that they might reunite more permanently and happily- this was just a misunderstanding. But she runs... and soon after, chocolatey run dashes past too.

Antler... Was she angry at their sister too? "W-wait!" And she doesn't wait for the others to make up their minds.. pursuing swathes of dusty browns in their wild pursuit.

// outtie !​