remember that night - mossball introductions

Aug 14, 2023
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the sun lay past mid day, the light coating of snow on the ground cold underneath her paws, a subtle crunch beneath her feet as a light hued greyish brown warrior moved through the grounds. her pelt contrasted against the white pebbly ground.

lilacbird had spent most of her day collecting and exchanging new bedding for the queens and kits. she had an odd affection to making them comfortable, to help the queens take a break- and it always brought a smile to her face. as she returned with the last load of moss in her jaws, and settled it down for the final queen, she offered them a smile and a dip of her head.

the tortie proceeded out of the nursery, extra moss in her maw. though, hesitant, she thought it was a good idea to.. well, meet the newcomers and get to know others better. a deep breath, anxiety rumbling through her as she rolled the moss into a ball.

"alright.. uh, if- d-" she took another breath before dropping her puffball of a head. she didn't want to do it anymore. she wanted to know others better. her paw holding down the mossball, she gently rolled it towards someone nearby.

"tell me about yourself-" shed start, with a soft voice. "name, anything interesting, anything you um... like to. you d-dont have to though, it's all good."

she's always had issues talking to others. a stumbling skittish mess, and that's why besides her size, she felt she was named 'bird'. she liked it nonetheless. she didn't care the meaning.

 
Moss rubbed uncomfortably against his paw, the texture unwelcome and irritating. A voice comes next, so soft that Shadestone has to angle his ear in different positions to hear the jist of the other cat's sentence. It was a silly request in Shadestone's mind; he had been a warrior of RiverClan since the clan's inception. He had lived on this land for seasons before Cicadastar and his band of fisher-cats laid claim to the land and his-self. To explain himself felt redundant.

And yet still, he opens his mouth, his brain struggling in the moment to find anything of interest, and he responds with: "I have a keen sense of smell. For example, you smell of the pebble deposits by the river in late new-leaf." Spilled from any other cat's lips, perhaps it would be a compliment, but Shadestone's voice is flat, perhaps only tinged with a hint of uncertainty as to why he answered the question in the first place.speech is in #b4bcb4
 

NETTLEPAW ♂
RIVERCLAN
APPRENTICE
FOUR MOONS
BLIND IN BOTH EYES
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
APPRENTICED TO PIKESPLASH
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH

Nettlepaw's relationship with his father was... complicated. Distant, perhaps. Especially after Reedflower died to Yellowcough. The boy was the spitting image of his mother, and he had always been quite close to her, despite her hovering. Shadestone was different, though. As chilly and as stone-faced as his name implied. It was near impossible to peel back the edges of ice which encrusted the tom's heart, or so it seemed at least. Nettlepaw hardly even saw his father. Hearing his voice now, though, the apprentice is drawn toward the scene, sightless eyes dancing across the pair as they conversed. He's unaware of the moss-ball for now, only knows that he wants to be seen, noticed, acknowledged, by the one tom who always seemed so far away. It made Nettlepaw feel bitter inside. Nonetheless, he prowls over toward the scene with tail held high.

"I'm Nettlepaw. His son." An ear flicks toward Shadestone, a pointed sharpness to the boy's vocals. He knows Lilacbird probably already knows his name, but the comment isn't exactly meant for her. It's a reminder for someone else. "I'm a strong swimmer. I once ambushed a warrior on the shore, and I'm only four moons old." Nettlepaw points out. Don't you understand how great I am, father? "I catch birds. I caught a robin not too long ago. I'm great at tracking prey." He exaggerates a little, of course. How could he not? Blind eyes shift toward Shadestone, ears angled toward the lynx-point tom with an expression that is almost... demanding. The two might not be able to see one another, but the air buzzed with an unsaid tension. An unease that could certainly be sensed.
 

like shadestone, shellkit knew these cats. for the whole two moons of her life they had been walking around outside the nursery, not much more than a sea of fur and tree trunk limbs. she keeps wide distance from the tom where she crouches at the side, watching with wide, watery eyes as lilacbird pads a wad of moss into a ball. her ears perk at the call but she doesn’t really have anything interesting aside from the fact that — her name was shellkit. she doesn’t have too much knowledge outside of that anyway. her stubby tail thumps the ground when she watches it roll to shadestone, but that was a warrior. she doesn’t pounce, as much as her trembling limbs beg her to ; her hind end picks up, waggles, but settles back down just as quick.

but then, he casts it to his son — and nettlepaw doesn’t take the mossball. instead, he talks, and she uses that moment to launch towards it, using her entire body weight to fill over and trap it with thorn claws at her belly. it’s a frantic sight, snow poofing up around her, the sound of wheezing and panting growing louder for all but a second before she’s on the ground, chest heaving and nose sucking air wetly into her nose. it clogs her throat, but she only flips over onto her side, tampering the familiar tickle in her throat best she could, ” shellkit. “ she says, though with a mouth half around the clump of moss it sounds more like shollgit. she doesn’t understand the tension between the father and son around her, but she continues anyway, tail coiling around the ball so she is wrapped, spiderlike, around it. hers now.

  • i.

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  • SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. 3 MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
    delicate lilac - striped molly with sugarplum eyes she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber.

    currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

 


She nodded her head. It made sense that she smelled like that, she had been digging through rocks this morning. She had found a very pretty one she planned to give to someone one day. Then she continued her solo hunt, rock and scrawny vole in tow before heading back out.

She did remember shadestone from the marshes, but she was only a child. To think it had been that long, and yet she only knew what she observed. Becoming a recluse after her losses was easy, avoiding those around her like the plague. Keeping to herself.

Nettlepaw spoke after. if shadestone wasn't, she was happy for him. "you're d-doing great." she said, content with boosting the apprentices confidence. Because why wouldn't she? Even if she was insecure, she wanted others to feel good about themselves.


cerulean eyes glanced towards shellkit, an unfamiliar giggle escaping her chest as the kit claimed the mossball. this was fine. she supposed she'd have to take her turn, right?

"I'm uh... I'm lilacb-bird. I'm.. not that great at fighting, or land hunting. Ice fishing is... fun though. I g-guess I'm good at that," she said, her voice spitting the insecurity she felt. she didn't feel like she succeeded in her own game. She had a habit to ruin everything she did. to get in the way, or was that her thoughts beating herself down?


 

Gillsight knows his clanmates — of course he does. He's lived along the river's edge since his birth, joined the clan in its early days, in his early days. RiverClan is his family more than the one he'd been born into.

Still, that doesn't mean he hasn't been reclusive in recent moons, a product of grief that still looms over him. Clearsight has been among the stars for multiple seasons now, long enough for the cold season his mentor took his final breath in to seek out a return. Gillsight has kept to himself since then for the most part, something the warrior wishes to work on — to feel more like a part of the family who'd taken him in once again, rather than an onlooker to its growth, its changes.

Tell me about yourself, a warrior urges to another nearby, a mossball sent between them. Dark ears twitch at her words, a sunlit gaze lifting from his own work to observe the conversation between Lilacbird and Shadestone — a keen sense of smell, he offers. Then Nettlepaw — his son, a strong swimmer — speaks, and Shellkit — just Shellkit — joins in. Each pass the clump of moss to one another, until the youngest participant wraps a tail around the conversation starter and claims it as her prize.

Ah, well. Gillsight assumes the game is over, his chance to converse with the group gone, but Lilacbird offers her own piece in stuttering words similar to his own.

" B-Better than me, I bet, " he offers toward her toleration of ice fishing, black and white tail curling around his paws. After last leaf-bare, the warrior would rather stick to land hunting, if he could. He's spoken now, so he supposes it's his turn in their game.

" I'm G-Gillsight, " he starts, his introduction staggering as he tries to come up with something interesting about himself. He was just Gillsight, wasn't he? What was so important about him? The scars he carries, the sheer amount of time he's spent in the battlefield? " I... I guess I'm good at f-fighting, and... " The warrior hums as he searches his mind for something else to share.

" A-and I collect r-rocks, too. " Or, he used to, at least. He doesn't remember the last time he added a stone to the pile in his nest, doesn't remember the last time a pebble sparked joy, urged him to scoop it out of the river. He has plenty, either way. ​
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    GILLGILLPAWGILLSIGHT
    ── Warrior of RiverClan

    ── ??? x ???
    ── AMAB; He/Him
    ── A scarred, black and white tom with yellow eyes.
    ── Mentored by Clearsight
    ── "Speech"; Attack