one more step [orphan]

[CREEK]

The cool sunset breeze blew over his frail almost lifeless form, raising the little tom from his slumbers. Creek's stomach clenched, a sad reminder of the little he'd eaten since his mother's passing four sunrises ago. A quick quarrel between a rogue and his mother had left her with a nasty infection. With little knowledge of healing, she had tried to teach him how to survive with minimal success. The kitten sat motionless, guilt eating at him for thoughts of giving up. After all his mother survived and put up with, he couldn't.
Creek shakily heaved himself to his paws, feeling light headed and a bit dizzy from doing so. This edge of the twoleg place was unfamiliar to him, but he could smell water and he was definitely thirsty. He skittered further to the edge of the twoleg place following the bushes until he spotted some interesting twoleg contraptions in the distance and the sound of a river. Unbeknownst to him he was only steps away from the Riverclan border. Creek's mother had enjoyed swimming and river hunting. Once he'd asked to try but he'd been far too young, now he had other priorities.
The little tabby surveyed the area quickly before taking a few steps just into the territory hardly noticing the smell of other felines in the area, eyes desperately focused on the source of the river's sound.

// Hia just starting out on tt nice to meet everyone!

 

[>Honeystone]

— //Welcome welcome! We're so happy to have you!

White paws delicately moved along the blades of grass, she was amongst others of her clan that were trying to provide enough for all their bellies. Her pink nose was tilted skyward as she attempted to pick up a scent, and she did but not one she recognized as prey. Confused, the she-cat would exchange a glance with one of her clanmates to confirm she wasn't just smelling things before she started making her way toward the source. Soon enough Honeystone would happen upon the figure of a young tom, his fur a cross of the purity of snow and red like that of certain tree barks. A sharp gasp would draw from her upon the sight of him. "Oh sweet thing, you look thinner than a dry salamander!" She'd exclaim before likely pushing past his personal space bubble as she drew near and circled him. "What are you coming from? Do you have a home?" She'd inquire, fretting over him like she would her own children. — tags​

 

[Petalnose]

I FIND COMFORT IN THE SOUND AND THE SHAPE OF THE HEART ⋆⁺₊⋆

"Stumbling around like that is going to make you fall in and drown." Petalnose growled bluntly, taking a stance at the river banks and eyeing the kit from afar. She had come along Honeystone's side, pausing to take upon the scene and allow the other cat to go investigate up close. He was skinny, malnourished. His scent was that of a loner. She had her fair share of loners along the borders. Although, as mean hostile as she came off she was more softer than that she would show to an adult. She obviously less friendly than Honeystone however, "Why are you here, who are you?" It wasn't a question, it was a demand. Petalnose did actually know the reason, he was looking for food. His family were probably far away, abandoned him or dead. Clarification was still needed. It was always needed. It was tradition to ask what they were doing on or near their territory or tearing claws into the trespassers face. She'd definitely take her opportunity at a strike or battle if this cat was grown. However, this was a kit struggling. Her thoughts picked upon scaring him away but something told her to help.

The warriors mix-matched ears twitched for an answer, walking against the shallows with ease to hover above him a mouse length away. Some of her fur bristled along her back to show what he was doing was wrong, a scolding look in her eyes. She wouldn't harm him, though if the leader alongside his higher ranks disagreed taking in another orphan she'd scare him without a problem. As cruel as it was. She did however pity him, she did want to help deep down. She eyed the bones that pressed against him pelt. Pitiful. Starvation was a death full of torture, so was drowning. Dying slowly is something she didn't wish upon anyone except her enemies.

She sniffed the kit in a gentle manner, showing she didn't actually mean any harm. Her whiskers nearly touched his forehead as she took in his scent. Honeystone was motherly, her words seeping like honey which was the opposite of what she wanted. If a kit could understand their language and walk, they should understand and learn crossing clan territories was not welcome. It was rude and seen as a threat. It was dangerous. She didn't know what to say to the other she-cat except a glance of disapproval. They needed to wait until they were so welcoming to a young intruder.

//Welcome!!! So sorry my gal is less welcoming </3

Tags​

 

[CREEK]

Creek had been so deep in concentration the he only noticed at the sound of her voice, turning slightly to face her before she was already so close. Fighting back a squeak of fear and surprise, the kitten couldn't help but lean back to compensate for her close proximity. The fur on his tail poofed out slightly, he'd met others, never by himself, but they seemed different. Her words caught him by surprise, she was kinder than he was expecting.
He relaxed slightly turning to look at the other she-cat as she spoke. She was more direct, a spike of unease running through his paws as he pondered his options. Though she acted gentler than she sounded, at least for now. What would they do if they didn't like his answer, should he run? No, there was no way he could out run the both of them while in this state.
"I'm Creek, I came from the edge of the twoleg place.. I don't have a home.." he answered after a moment, his voice raspy and dry. "I heard the water, I was just looking for a drink, or something to eat." Creek added quickly, his eyes glinting with hope and fear both as he looked to their expressions for answers.

// thank youu!

 

[FERNGILL]

Some luminous concoction of concern and curiosity glowed in Fernpaw's gaze as he gingerly walked up to where Petalnose and Honeystone stood, brows slightly furrowed as his less-than-stellar mind lagged to keep up with the conversation. This was a ... stranger, certainly, but a frail-looking one. Lonely, perhaps? Lost? If he spoke of Twolegplace, he must be lost.

Fernpaw's face contorted into a soft grimace, and he glanced up at the warriors present, jaw fastened shut. Was he meant to drive off someone who looked so... not-threatening? "You come from Twolegplace, but you're not a kittypet?" His voice thrummed with confusion. All he'd known was that Twolegs and kittypets came from there, and- apparently this tom was neither. Someone who came from the edge of the Twolegplace, wherever that was. He had no authority to tell Creek what he could or could not do- that responsibility would have to fall to the present warriors, but he could at least quell his own confusion. Right?​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[lichenstar]

It became a more consistent wish than one thought possible, to hope that they might stop encountering abandoned children. It was almost tauntingly cruel, that they'd lost apprentices alike just to find new younglings at their borders begging for help and nourishment. Was it even safe for them to come into the river-dwelling clan if half a year from present, they'd just disappear? The thought was bothersome, but one for another time... Fernpaw was a steadfast reminder that his seniors weren't failures; he was safe... and happy.

Letting their gaze linger on the underfed scrap that Honeystone fussed over excessively, Lichentail tried to make note of anything important. He was young, but not so young as to be helpless at hunting. But his body was an indication of that skill going untaught. It smelled the stink of tragedy. No reasonable parent would let someone his age wander around unable to fend for himself.

Sighing softly as Petalnose demanded answers (was there not a slightly softer personality she could muster up in this case?), the blue point found Fernpaw's inquiry to be the more interesting topic of discussion. Not a kittypet... One of those cats that lived between the homes, in those Twoleg paths?

"Ever eaten a fish before?" It seemed a far more innocuous question... While the answer seemed completely harmless, it would let them know if they'd been stolen from or if this kid really was a total loss as a hunter.​

 

[CICADASTAR]

the mottled felidae slips in behind his warriors without a sound — silent, like an eel to water, slipping through the reed like a looming shadow to look down a crooked muzzle at their newest intruder. dark pupils are narrowed taut, thinned to shaven slits. he was a scrap of a feline, spine arched sharply to tuck into himself. small and scrawny, dirty - pelted and tinged with the smog that permeates twolegplace like a sickness. dark nostrils flare and pallid gaze snaps, swiveling both tall ears in fernpaw’s direction at the word kittypet. it nearly twists his muzzle, screws his lips into a bitter - pressed purse. the thing was young, that much was true — but he was unsure of how much malnutrition had to do with his size, rather than age, " whatever you are, you’re pawsteps away from riverclan’s border. " sharp vocals, odd - tinged and rolling from a barbed, venomous tongue. thin shoulders roll back, long neck hanging forward to peer closer — viper - like, eyes too pale for the ghostly hollowness of his face, ” do you have kin? “ parents? a colony? is someone looking for this runt, or are they trying ( and failing ) to fend for themself? his claws click the ground with it, but he waits, eager to hear more of how this scrap hobbled his way to their riverside.

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i. hi aa welcome, i’m so excited to have you around!! a little note so you can plan though juuuust in case, riverclan currently isn’t accepting anyone over five months old < 3
  
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
  
  
  m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.
  
  ᨒ gay, mated to smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
  ᨒ speaks with a german accent. 43 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• "speech"
  

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[► Fluffykins.]

YOU CAN BE YOU - I CAN BE ME
oddpaw | 06 months | agender | they/them/it/its | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold #ffdb58

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Oddpaw was once like this child, it thinks. Round eyes stare unabashedly at the small creature, unblinking for a moment. It had taken a long time for it to find out it's origins, pestering the queens who had cared for it endlessly until it'd learned. A bundle of fluff dropped at the rivers edge, milk scent upon it's pelt and yet no mother. It'd been to young to remember, but he knowledge now sits hevaily in their mind. Had they too once been a part of the twolegplace? One orphan stares at another in silence, though it's ears twitch when ciciadastar speaks. Perhaps the creature will have a new clanmate today?

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