she wrings out a snake - joining

[Silverpaw!]

garbled and gruesome, ◇─◇─

─◇─◇ his words so absurd
LIKE I HEARD A TRANSMISSION FROM APOLLO 13

​

It's a daunting sight, even if there's nothing there. There is nothing more than a scent line to divide the lives between stray and forest cats; he wonders how many crossed the lines and came to regret it. He's starting to think he will. Barely scraping four moons with a bleeding cut across his nose, Silver is afraid. He's never been afraid before, and that terrifies him further. He's so used to prancing down the streets like he owned the place, watching as grown cats cowered in the fear that his father would appear from around any corner. Now it's him that's cowering, muscles tightening at every movement from the corner of his eye.

"Hello? He calls out, hating how his voice cracks and breaks like nothing more than a twig. Silver feels like he's hit rock bottom, grovelling to the paws of the clan cats that his father had disliked so much, but he knew he'd never survive if he stayed out in the wild any longer. An unlucky encounter with another rogue had proved that—the cut on his nose was still dripping with blood. Logically, it would be for the best if he joined, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy any second of it.
​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

---

"Hello?"

The call pulled his attention from his hunt almost immediately, alarm bells going off at just how young and broken it was. The fact that it was coming from the direction of the nearby border only caused his concern to grow, and after barely a moment of thought he abandoned the sparrow he'd been stalking in favor of investigating the stranger.

He was glad he did.

It was a child, a kit barely on the cusp of being eligible for apprenticeship, and they were thin- to the point where Johnny was having a hard time figuring out if it was just their natural build, or a lack of food that sat as the cause.

"Hello." he echoed back as he padded out from the pine forest, an ear flicking in greeting since he was sans tail. Molten eyes would shift to land on the dripping cut across their nose with a flicker of concern as a frown settled onto his maw. "That's a nasty cut ya got there. How'd you end up with that?" he asked, gaze instinctively flicking behind the younger cat to scan the trees behind them for any sign of an enemy.

They'd be a right fool to follow an injured child to the Skyclan border, but Johnny could always hope.

---

​

 

[SLATE]

Good grief, there were far too many lone cats knocking on SkyClan's door, lately. Slate was tired of the constant influx of new faces and smells, frankly. Slate had been a solitary creature for so long that too much change and adjustment, especially when it came to felines that he didn't know, bothered him.

This was another kit, perhaps around the same age as the wide-eyed kittypet youth that SkyClan took in just recently. However, they did not don a collar or any other marking of twoleg ownership. As the Maine Coon drew behind Johnnyflame, he noticed that the tabby carried an unexpected scent as well — asphalt, monster fluid, garbage. Home. Fresh blood also tainted the air, sourcing from the cut upon the kitten's nose bridge.

"You came from the city." He makes a statement, not a question, as the scent is unmistakable. He knows the familiar scent like the back of his paw, as the streets had been his home for many seasons. However, Slate lets his words hang in the air, expecting the kit to begin elaborating about why he was on SkyClan's border. The little scrap seems awfully young for roaming the streets on his lonesome, so Slate assumes that he must have ditched any family or companions for the forest. Or, perhaps there was a much more grim and unfortunate story here...​

 

[Silverpaw!]

garbled and gruesome, ◇─◇─

─◇─◇ his words so absurd
LIKE I HEARD A TRANSMISSION FROM APOLLO 13

​

His breathing picks up with each pawstep. This is what he was here for, but the tom had to fight every desire to turn tail and run. Silver brings up a paw to his nose, smearing the blood further across his face as he struggles to piece together a coherent sentence that doesn't sound like it's been run over by a semi-truck.
"A rogue" He leaves it at that before turning to Slate.

He'd hardly call it a city; the streets he roamed were grimy, the lowest of lows. To him, it felt perfect, but even just a glance at the expanse of trees before him told him that it wasn't even close to the childhood he could've had, could've, because he never got his own. The tom takes a deep breath, ready to piece himself back together and show he was more than just a scrappy kit that's never seen a proper meal, more than just the city dweller and bully. But all that came out was a plea, his voice straining to hold together and not fall apart.
"I can't go back, I- I need..." He needs what, a home? A hug? He needs something, but not even Silver is sure what it is until it tumbles from his mouth.
"Help. I need help"
​

 

[eveningsun]

eve had tagged along for a hunting patrol, but failed to be productive. blame it on the unsteady wind, the lack of a trace of prey, she knew it was because her mind was elsewhere. when the apprentice had finally caught a scent of something other than pine, her ears pricked, hopeful.

by the time she had made it, johnnyflame and slate stood questioning someone just beyond the border. the calico sat dutifully behind them, reduced by the lack of familiarity of the cat before them. blood smeared across the tabby's nose. barely older than orangeblossom's kits, yet a scar would mar his face from this breath until his last.

it was sad, he seemed sad. voice shaken, requesting help. "came to the right place," she hums, lush tail sweeping to cover white paws. surely the lead warriors would provide, skyclan had offered many cats sanctuary. "i'm eveningpaw, what's your name? didn't catch it," she asks with a polite, yet distant smile on her face.​

 

[Silverpaw!]

garbled and gruesome, ◇─◇─

─◇─◇ his words so absurd
LIKE I HEARD A TRANSMISSION FROM APOLLO 13

​

Eveningpaw. An odd name. He'd heard that the forest cats had unusual naming methods, but he thought it was just something his father had thought of to insult. It takes him a moment to realise he's supposed to answer the question, but he hurries out an answer quickly. The words felt foreign on his tongue, and he could swear this was the first time he'd ever even said his name aloud. Most of the introductions involved someone else, like he was nothing but a shiny toy on display. It felt...nice. Like he was on his own terms.
"Silver", he pauses and slowly looks away from the trio and at the trees surrounding them.

"Which one of these...groups..are you?" He wasn't sure how to phrase it well; every word he spoke felt coated in an acid that he didn't want. He's so used to thinking of them as below him that he's not sure how long it'll take to shake the way he speaks about others. Something he'll no doubt need to work on if he wants to actually stay in the clan..​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

This cat is young, barely apprentice-aged, and the guarded body language speaks some wisdom into Slate’s assumption. Blazestar comes to stand beside his lead warriors and Eveningpaw, his golden ears flicking with acknowledgment. “Silver. Welcome. I am Blazestar, leader of SkyClan. These are Slate and Johnnyflame, two of my lead warriors.” He nods to each respectively, then gestures to the pale, pretty tortoiseshell she-cat. “This is Eveningpaw. She is training to be a warrior.”

He studies the cut across the young cat’s nose bridge, a frown developing. “Eveningpaw is right. You came to the right place. We have medicine cats who can treat that wound.” As Johnnyflame and Slate had done, Blazestar peers into he dark bends of the woods behind Silver. He sees and scents nothing—whatever had marked the kit had not followed him here, thankfully.

“Follow us back to camp. We can get that scratch looked at.” He does not know if the kit will obey—but that is his choice. Blazestar looks at Eveningpaw. “Once we get to camp, will you take him to Dawnglare and Fireflypaw and get him some fresh-kill? I’d like to hear more about what happened to you, but you must rest first.” He gives young Silver a smile, then gestures with a thick tail to follow them out of the pines.

// consider yourself accepted! :D

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

---

"Aye, you won't have to worry about any rogues comin' after you here."Johnnyflame insisted with a nod of his speckled muzzle before turning to glance at Slate. "Want to give this border a once over with me after they're gone? Make sure whoever was chasin' the lad hasn't followed them?" he asked, figuring the silver brute would be just as happy to clear them out . Eveningpaw and Blazestar had the rest figured out it seemed, so they might as well put themselves to goo use as well.

---

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