PAR-DELÀ LE CIEL ↷ [ pre-gathering chatter ]

[crowflower]

If Gravelsnap is unsure of their clanmate's intentions, Crowflower is certainly none the wiser. In fact, she seems charmed by Snailstride's warm response to her meager offering of friendship. Immediately her mind swirled with visions of windblown moors, dotted with tiny windflowers hardy enough to withstand the strange climate. "That would be wonderful!" she replies, face aglow with genuine excitement. "Sometimes when I patrol the border I stop to admire the dogrose and foxglove. I haven't seen them grow anywhere else!" In another life, Crowflower would be a medicine cat. Fighting and hunting were a necessity, not an interest of hers. If she could spend every second of daylight exploring the vast, diverse territories of the clans, she would. But there is no such thing as peaceful passage through the clans. Crowflower often considers doing it anyway. She is stealthy enough, careful enough. With her luck, however, she would be caught immediately and an example would be made out of her.

At the mention of Sunningrocks and the battle against the dogs, Crowflower's light dims almost imperceptibly. "Oh, thank you," she says. "I'm just glad that it ended with minimal bloodshed. It's silly to fight over a pile of rocks anyway." What she doesn't say is that she wasn't even there. She had stayed back at camp with her sister and the kits. Crowflower was no true warrior. She could fight off a ferocious dog but she can't imagine herself ever harming another cat. The mere thought made her feel a little ill, for which she felt ashamed. If only the world's problems could be solved by exchanging flowers. Then, maybe, Crowflower would finally be good at something.

Thankfully, Snailstride begins to compliment her name, which elicits a bashful smile from the skunk-colored cat. She's proud of her name--it definitely suits her--but it is not usual for her to receive any sort of compliment. Even just polite flattery. It works wonders on her mood in spite of her shyness. Words of gratitude get caught in her throat. "Um," she says, focusing instead on her limited knowledge of snail species. "Well, there are lots of grove snails which favor the moors. They're cute and they have stripes--oh! Your stripes are very similar. You were named well!" she's rambling. Snailstride is a much nicer cat than she anticipated encountering and she can't help the giddy overflow of words which seem to leave her mouth in a rush.

Crowflower does not seem to mind Gravelsnap's less enthusiastic response. She glows with friendly cheer and itches idly at a leaf caught in the snarls of her long, lazily groomed fur. "All your spots look like little pebbles. Your name suits you, too." There is no doubt in her mind that she is friends with these two Windclan cat now, even though she doesn't have much proof to back it up. She has decided that she likes them very much and is already planning on trying to encounter them again along the border sometime soon. "It's nice to meet you both."

// @GRAVELSNAP @SNAILSTRIDE ​

 

[RAVENSONG]

Ravenpaw averted his eyes at the first remark. "Yes." He murmured. Once he became a warrior, he could move freely toward the borders without as much scrutiny as he would have as an apprentice. His law-breaking nightly patrols were only done with Dovepaw at Sunningrocks.

His face turned up to his father again and he was silent. He let Selby speak, wondering how different it would have been if his story had been true. How badly he wished for that alternate reality. He kept still when Selby stepped forward again. He had wanted to believe he resembled his mother. He had never hated her.

"She's gone." He whispered.


@selby

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[selby]

ocean breathes salty​

Gone. Just like that, every fantasy Selby had ever had of reconciling with her evaporated. He shouldn't be surprised, or even as gutted as he felt. Their relationship had been dead and gone for over four seasons now, the only product of their pairing a full-grown cat. So what difference should it make that she was dead as well?

He did not voice his thoughts, but they felt hollow even to his own mind's ear.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, leaning forward to wrap a paw around Ravenpaw's shoulders in an attempt to wrap him in a hug. Selby knew that the loss of Hannah was much more stark to his son than it would be to him. Even if he weaseled away from his grip, Selby would go on to say, "She was a wonderful cat. Truly. I'm sure she would be very proud."

@RAVENPAW. ​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[iciclefang]

The pale ShadowClanner denies being Sharppaw's mentor, and Iciclepaw stifles a grin when she can tell Sharppaw is moderately offended by the assumption. Despite herself, she's pleased when the black feline remembers her name. She nods. "Iciclepaw for now. Perhaps next time we meet, I'll be a warrior." She smirks, feeling her uncle's tail graze her shoulder as he acknowledges her comment about ThunderClan.

She's glad to see Sharppaw isn't terribly offended by her comment. "Don't they?" Her agreement is quiet, but Iciclepaw understands the other apprentice just enough to know it's their nature to be so. He murmurs that ShadowClan has not been back to thieve, that their territory is brimming with prey -- including frogs. "Have you ever had a frog?"

Iciclepaw doesn't get a chance to reply before a shadow falls over them. She glances up to see Cicadastar. She gives a curt, nearly inconspicuous nod to her leader, who growls that ThunderClan will be 'dealt with soon enough.' The comment -- or is it the comment combined with Cicadastar's presence? -- triggers the phantom cat into action. The dynamic between her leader and the tom is strange; Iciclepaw feels there is tension between them she will never understand. She often forgets there was a time before the Clans; she'd been born into the RiverClan she knows and loves today, and it's strange to think Clayfur and Cicadastar had not.

"Weird," she murmurs, looking after the tom called Rosemire as he pads away from them. But she says it with some awe. Few cats could get away with talking to Cicadastar in that manner... perhaps their history is stranger than she knows.

She's jostled out of her thoughts by the frog question again. She looks at Clayfur, then back to Sharppaw thoughtfully. "You know, at least frogs live in the water," she meows. "I'd rather try frog than bird, I think!"

// interacting with @CLAYFUR @SHARPPAW @CICADASTAR @rosemire​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[WOLFWIND]

Think of the storm rolling in and the thunder comes cracking. "He lives!" For some reason, the ignorant chuckling seems to have disappeared into barely-held anxiety. Shifty-eyed, breathing rough. Wolfwind tries to follow his frantic gaze, but it. leads to nothing and nowhere. Nothing interesting, at least. She doesn't care enough to press about it, either. She doesn't bother gettin' comfortable. Doesn't know how long she plans to stay. Her eyes briefly scan the clearing for any more interestin' faces before they at last land on the pale tabby. "You didn't catch nothin' cause I didn't throw nothin' at ya," She declares.

She wasn't about to get chummy with some ShadowClanner, but she wasn't gonna waste any energy bein' mad, either, even if they were a clan of thieves. "S' debatable if you even deserve it," she says with half a grin. His name's certainly a strange one. If anything, she'll give him hers to subtly jab at how much cooler it is. "Wolfwind." A tongue swipes across her lips. "Your new leader know about your hobby of gettin' killed?"

[ Talking to @CHITTERTONGUE & still open :3 ]​

 

[smogstar]

Lids enfold the upper regions of his auburn pools, forging an expression that appeared half as attentive as it truly was. Even when in the company of those whom he held confidence in, those whom he regarded with nominal respect, idle pleasantries failed to pique the interest of the leaden-furred tomcat. Still, he exerts some effort into heeding the other's words, and forces a shallow chuckle or three while Thistleback recounts the going-ons in SkyClan. A black-capped ear would flick at the mention of twolegs and the dangers they posed—perhaps it was a stroke of fortune for his clan to inhabit a territory so uninviting, not even the upwalkers dared to breach its scent lines.

A mere nod reciprocates the Lead Warrior's acknowledgement, before his attention shifts toward the pallid-toned hybrid to his side. "I view Thistleback in a positive light, yes," Smogmaw accedes, an imprecise answer to their query. Such cordial terms were but another facet of social politics that the deputy was not particularly fond of, yet he understood their value quite well. "And though I'd turned down his offer to cuddle," he continues, words accompanied by a sharp exhalation, "I cannot deny that he's one of the few outside of our clan who I would trust."

As the discussion shifts to the moor cats' affairs, the makings of a smile manifest on his visage. Good. Within moments, the time for chitchat will cease and the gathering's announcements shall commence. This window of opportunity, however fleeting it may be, is something the dusky tom had came well-equipped for. "This was inevitable," the deputy states, touching upon Bloodhound's remark about their iminent demises and Thistleback's regarding the end of their alliance. Conscious of prying ears, he speaks in a tone somewhat subdued. "One-by-one, they have waged war and erred the clans around them. Now, the moors are encircled by enemies. Now, their bellies are exposed." Smogmaw then pivots the entirety of his focus on Thistleback. "All it'll take is a vengeful claw," he says, "and the WindClan menace will be put to rest."

His gaze is intense. A far cry from the run-of-the-mill vacant look he'd spare for passerby. He is almost certain that his perspective is a shared one, and thus, he holds a firm conviction to reinforce his words. "Twolegs, hunger," the deputy drawls on, glimpsing towards his clanmate, "these are headaches that will soon pass. The moor cats, though, will remain a threat until they're put in their place. I also believe that to be inevitable—it's only a matter of when."

// speaking to @BLOODHOUND. and @ThistleBack ​

 

[✧ Stalkingpaw.]

˚⊹ COME ON MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE ⊹˚
stalkingpaw | 05 months | polygender | any pronouns | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold crimson

---

Bright eyes blown wide when her greeting is returned, the girl looks utterly relieved - a pretty smile upturning the corners of her mouth. "Yup! I kind of er- slept through the last one!" she says cheerily, clearly no longer bothered by it It had been a silly mistake, but that's okay - she's here now at this one, meeting new people and maybe, making friends. Her gaze catches an all to familiar shape - and she's suddenly standing, waving one forepaw wildly in the hopes of catching sablepaw's attention. "Hey sablepaw! Hey! Over here!" she calls out rather frantically, hoping to catch her sisters attention so she can meet greenpaw too. The second she's done she easily flits her attention back to greenpaw, turning the conversation back towards the skyclanner as though she didn't practically shout in the poor apprentices ear. "You've probably come to these things before right? You look old enough,"

// talking to @GREENEYES trying to catch @Sablepaw attention
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[RAVENSONG]

Ravenpaw instinctively pulled back as Selby moved in, the natural aversion to touch still present even in spite of his father being the one to initiate it. But Selby was insistent and he felt his paws wrap over his sloping, bony shoulders. A tremble went down his spine. Too young to properly internalize that grief, and unable to during his life in the Clan because of Hannah's status as a kittypet—he could never sit down and sob over the death of a kitty-pet there, even if it were his own mother—Ravenpaw finally felt the weight of it crash down on him.

The muscles underneath his sleek black fur relaxed. "Maybe." He sighed, turning to press his nose against Selby's shoulder. "I hope I made the right choice. I wish you were living with me. But I am glad I know you are alive."

@selby

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[Sablemist]

In every situation you give me peace

A familiar voice calls out to her, causing the skunk striped apprentice to turn in time to notice her waving sibling. Sablepaw's gait hesitates momentarily, expression contemplative before quietly wandering closer. Periwinkle eyes shift between the other cats present and she gives them a stiff nod of her head in greeting. "Who is this?" She asks quietly, observing the skyclan apprentice with outward caution. Her voice held no malice but she certainly was not comfortable either. ​

Don't gotta be afraid because you're in the lead​

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[GREENEYES]

The RiverClanner justifies her lack of prior gathering attendance with an excuse of sleeping in. Greenpaw wishes he'd done the same, a soot-spun image still burned into his mind from the last gathering. Perhaps the kid is lucky, for not having witnessed that, for not having to bear with the storm that had brought on StarClan's message.

Still, Greenpaw shrugs, looking down at the young apprentice. "You didn't miss much," he tells the river-dweller, though anyone with ears must have heard of the last gathering's events, by now. The child waves over another - one similar in appearance to them. Greenpaw bows his head in greeting to the other new face.

"Hello! I'm Greenpaw," he says to them, before turning to the original RiverClanner he was speaking to, "Is this your littermate?" He'd assume so, with such a similar appearance, but then again, how similar did Greenpaw look to his own?

"Figpaw's my sibling," he chimes in, head motioning over to his sister as she takes part in her separate discussion, "One of them, at least. I've got plenty of 'em." Had plenty - a reminder of his missing siblings that leaves his smile faltering, but not for long, as the river-dweller asks another question. Greenpaw nods his head, crooked tail swaying behind him.

"Yep, I've been to three gatherings now!" the apprentice answers, "This is my last one before my warrior ceremony. Next time I'm here, I'll have a cool new name." A fact that hits him just as yet another reminder of his missing family members - of his brother who won't become a warrior beside him, if they don't return soon. Greenpaw can just hope he gets a cool name, that his warrior ceremony won't go further south than what it already is.

// @Stalkingpaw. & @Sablepaw !​

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[BLAZESTAR]

"Blazestar!" He lifts his head, and there's a flash of something lively in his eyes as he spots Little Wolf bounding toward him. "Little Wolf," he says, restraining the purr that threatens to rumble in his throat and chest. His stomach feels strange, and his paws tingle the way they had when he'd first met her under a crescent moon. Would that feeling ever go away? Would he be forced to relive them every time he sees her, thinks of her, remembers her? "Good to see you. How have you been?"

But Little Wolf isn't alone. Flanked on either side is a small feline, both freshly apprentice-aged. He knows this because he's been counting the moons in his head since he's learned of their existence. Both she-cats, both with mottled earthen-and-ginger fur. One of them has a body shape closer to his own, with long shaggy fur; her eyes glow amber-gold. The other is shaped like her mother, small and compact, with a sleek coat; her eyes are just like Little Wolf's, that same shade of forest-green.

Blazestar's mouth becomes very dry. He gazes at his children, suddenly unsure of what he should do or say. Little Wolf speaks, sounding just as tormented, telling him their names. "Duskpaw and Skypaw." He looks at her helplessly, the surge of feeling storming inside of him overwhelming.

And Duskpaw and Skypaw don't know they are standing close to their father. They will never know. Blazestar licks his lips, trying to force some moisture back into his mouth. "Well! Don't you both look..." He falters. "Strong. I'm sure you're training hard," he says. He gives himself a small shake. "My name is Blazestar. I'm the SkyClan leader. Maybe you'll get the chance to meet your brother -- he's a medicine cat apprentice. He's here somewhere..." He trails off, lost. What is he supposed to say to two kits who he will never be able to claim? Never be able to nuzzle, to listen to stories about their hunting lessons, to watch them grow and take mates of their own.

He will never know them at all, not really.

// interacting with @LITTLE WOLF @skypaw @DUSKPAW​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Fireflyglow]

Fireflypaw makes his way through the crowd, abandoning his place at the medicine cat's seating in favor of finding his father- to make sure he was okay, holding it together enough to at least appear strong in front of their enemies. Though, when he spots the orange-cream pelt of his father, it's with a heavy heart that Firefly trudges over- his mother speaking to Blazestar. "Mother," He greets the dark molly, a hint of hesitance in his tone as he seats himself next to his father. Ever so loyal, ever so.. Determined. His eyes shut but his head swivels downwards to peer at the two kits before him. He caught the tail-end of the conversation on his walk over; these were his siblings? His mother had another litter so soon?

There's a gnawing at the inside of his cheek as he bites back his own opinion, his disagreement. All it took was separating from dad, and here you were making kits with someone else. "Skykit and Duskkit. Creative." Fireflypaw manages to grind out, bitterness edging his voice. "I'm Fireflypaw. As my dad said.. I'm SkyClan's medicine cat apprentice, and your older brother." Not that I want to be, He thinks to himself, wanting so desperately to go home. He avoids looking towards his mother, blaming her for this happening- replacing her two kits that she lost to Blazestar. Is that it, were these two just replacements for Howlpaw and Fireflypaw? Was he nothing to his mother now, just like his father- abandoned, replaced.

"Where's Burn and Moon? Did they not attend the Gathering this moon?"

// interacting with @LITTLE WOLF @DUSKPAW @skypaw @BLAZESTAR , brief mention of @Moonpaw and @BURNPAW ! ​