− ♱ ABOUT :deputies. the great leader of skyclan had named deputies, proving his kind again incompetent enough to lead themselves. he could only hope that thunderclan fared better, but hope was a concept fleeting on itself. the mottled felidae led his warriors back in silence, head low and ears twitched back in thought. the others had seemed interested in the concept and it only felt bitter in his mouth, fermenting like rotten apples on the barbs of his tongue. hare whiskers had not had a deputy — hell, briarstar had not had a deputy until now. burnout came with the territory he’d heard, and while exhaustion pries deep into his marrow, he would do as he always had : push forward, however dark the path ahead him lie. tonight's gathering had given him much to think about, and by the time he's pushing through the reeds into camp, he'd made his decisions. cicada could only hope that it wouldn't come back to bite him in the tail.
the tall tom firmly strides forward, icecut luminaries scanning for faces as he makes his way towards the large rock studding their camp. it seemed high enough, though as he lands far more gracefully atop the stone than he had the rotting log, he looms. full moon at his back, the riverclan leader would tip his chin up, icy eyes glinting white in the moonlight, “ let all cats old enough to swim gather beneath the river rock, “ river rock. he liked that, “ i apologize for the nightcap, truly, but i come with news from the other clans. all leaders, similar to i, have received nine lives. all clans have been gifted a medicine cat. “ his gaze scopes the faces beneath him, long, lithe limbs coming to settle beneath him, tail wrapping loosely around snowy paws. a stark contrast to his last ‘ meeting ‘, though still healing. still tired. the night had been long, and he wanted nothing more than to curl in his nest and forget. tough chance. cicadastar flicks an ear, relaxing aching shoulders, "no matter. the clans are strong, but riverclan is stronger. " it wasn't run by a pet, for one. his lip twitches, steely expression breaking for only a moment.
“ blazestar, as he’s called now, has pathetically implemented a rank of deputy. fitting for a kittypet to need help in such a way — we will not be doing this. “ accented vocals are firm, strict. his attention seeks those present at the gathering, gauging their faces through slightly narrowed eyes. he had no need for a right - hand, and he would not entertain any thought of it. he would lead alone ; standing now with his shoulders back, head tilted skyward, he seemed capable of it, "that being said, i cannot be everywhere at once. i need trusted, proven warriors to carry out tasks others cannot. cats willing to bear responsibility, to act as a guide -- a role model for your clanmates. my lead warriors. " the mottled felidae sits tall, silhouette casting darkness over a sea of sleep - rustled river cats. the man hoped most of them had waited up -- he was quick to leave once announcements had wrapped up, saying his goodbyes with a polite smile and a nervous itch growing under his paws.
he had two specific cats in mind for this, and though he fights ( and barely succeeds ) to conceal the caution in his voice, he finds a familiar black smoke amidst the crowd, " willowroot, named for your heritage and your strong, sturdy foundation. you have proven yourself a valuable asset, loyal and brave." saving boar, aiding at the border, joining in hopes of a bright future − a sacrifice for the greater good of their child, " please step forward." he dips his head ; they were not yet friendly, but they had his respect, truly earned. after a moment, he would straighten up, now attempting to find another face among his warriors. a slim black tom, tall with eyes that burn like the sun . . more familiar than willowroot, though not by much, " and smokethroat. named for your stealth ; a shadow, silent and strong. you are a prime example of a warrior, a cat to look up to. please step forward. " the man speaks, a smile coming to grace his dark maw, " i say this now so that starclan may hear my words, i ask you both to step up as my lead warriors. "
in the distance, there is a sound − muffled and far away, deep like thunder but curt. cicadastar pauses, brow furrowing and muzzle tipping upwards to the wind. a beat passes in silence and he chalks it up to his imagination, giving his head a little shake and returning his attention to the two gathered before him, " do you accept? "
big congrats to @willowroot and @Smokethroat !! yall have been amazing in both ic & ooc activity, and super excited to have you both on the team! tryouts have closed and riverclan's very first deputy has been chosen! be sure to keep an eye on the discord for that announcement and stay tuned here, because it seems something odd is happening just across the river . . .
− CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
− tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
− speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers
Clayfur is a bit conflicted by the leader’s announcement—all cats old enough to swim. He’s old, all right, but not enough to swim. Not good enough. It’s late, though, and Cicadastar seems to have something important to say, so the tom pulls himself to his paws, ignoring the way that his vision tilts dangerously. Luckily the vision in his left eye has returned, but it’s still noticeably fuzzy as he stares up at the leader. Cicadastar talks for a while, and the brown tabby’s muffled hearing only manages to catch about half of it. He turns his head to the side, trying to angle his clearer ear toward the so-called river rock.
Eventually the tom gets around to announcing that he’s appointing trusted warriors to serve as role models, and Clay is honestly surprised that Cicadastar is willing to hand off even a bit of control, to label any RiverClanners as trusted. But Willowroot and Smokethroat, despite being practically strangers to Clay along with the rest of the clan, are asked whether they accept the role. To Clay, there’s probably no better fitting cats to act as lead warriors; Willowroot was here before RiverClan was, and certainly knows the land like the back of their paw, and Smokethroat has shown himself to be trustworthy and strong. They’re perfectly suited to such roles.
Clayfur tries to find the two among the cats gathered around, hoping to see their reactions. Or at least half-see them, he supposes.
If he felt any particular way about the gathering he made no change in expression to indicate it. Smokethroat was never a tom really known for having much of a vocal opinion unless it warranted him speaking but that didn't mean he wasn't mulling things over in his head one way or another. So every clan had a leader with nine lives and a medicine cat-he had expected as much but it was strange to him still. Especially given the clans chosen; why had so many SkyClan cats been pulled from their clan to serve another? If Sootstar's jeering remark was anything to go by then clan ties surely hadn't mattered then but the leaders were all rising to their stature in different ways and it was clear the change occuring would be built up and permenant soon. Briarstar's borders, Blazestar's need for a right-hand, the talk of kits and strength. RiverClan had their first litter recently too, he remembered pausing at the den and peering in to see after all the fuss and crowd had died down and he wondered faintly how it would feel to be born into this structure rather than build it. It would be all those kits knew from day one: RiverClan and its neighbors. The dark leader's call for attention stopped him from making his slow way to the edge of camp: when his head was so full of thoughts he didn't want to rest-he wanted to do something and so he had set his mind to the idea of fishing for a spell before bed until the announcements had begun.
The dark tom moved to take a seat near the back as he had last time and listened with alert ears and a placid frown. No deputy? He expected as much-that was some SkyClan invention that StarClan hadn't insisted on so it being rejected made sense. SkyClan wasn't looked on too fondly it seemed-he had no opinion on it. But thankfully Cicadastar still intended to have cats in positions of power to help keep things running and-
Ah.
The sound of his name earns the faintest flick of his ears, his face remains neutral-almost disinterested but that is because he was very good at masking himself in an almost aloof indifference. Inside he is alarmed, surprised, and a touch curious. He'd spent most his time in the colony by himself, away from others with only his mentor/mother-figure as company and she was just as brooding and quiet as he was half the time-it didn't make for a very good learning experience growing up; he simply mimicked her habits. It was only recently, after her death, with RiverClan's forming, had he even tried to intergrate himself into the clan structure as best he could. If you asked him he would tell you he felt no different, that he struggled still grasping social ettiquette, understanding empathy, learning things outside his comfort. He would tell you he was doing a poor job of being a proper member of their feline society. So his name spoken and his being described as something dependable and powerful; the two things he strove for: it was both a rare jolt of pride and then immediately a crashing tangle of nerves and unease. If Smokethroat was being honest, he hadn't noticed Cicadastar's watchful eyes-had not realized he was being kept tabs on to any degree. This felt like a lot of responsibility for a cat who used to look out for only himself. When he's told to step forward he does so on instinct, without thinking despite his feelings otherwise, but its Willowroot next to him that snaps him back into focus from his thoughts. If Cicadastar said so-if the leader StarClan chose said he was worthy to assist-then who was he to argue? And afterall, didn't he want RiverClan to thrive? What better way to ensure such by helping to take the reigns himself? It's not as if he was doing so alone. Willowroot was a dependable, kind cat. Beesong was a little on the nervous side but otherwise doing well as their healer and Cicadastar...well, StarClan chose him for a reason and he was an authority figure the tom felt he would have no trouble trusting.
Briefly his orange gaze darted to the tabby next to him before he lifted his head up high, "Yes." What else did he say? Was there anything to say? "...it would be an honor to help serve RiverClan." And that was it from the tom-he'd always been a cat of few words.
ooc: ty ;__; omg, super excited! and congrats to lav and lexi too <3<3<3
Clay muses at Cicadastar’s beckoning, not all cats knew how to swim, surely he couldn’t be so thick brained that he seriously thought that every cat here was capable of such a feat? Should any cat not able to swim be left out of receiving whatever information was so pertinent that he had to sit up on his pedestal and address the whole clan? Clay is almost tempted to sit with his back turned to the dark furred leader just to prove a point.
If his brother didn’t want to be here so badly, if he didn’t respect Beesong as much as he did. If if if. So many ifs that kept him tied to this clan. He lets out a sigh through his lips and begrudgingly makes his way to the front. Ears only half listening to the words coming from the toms mouth.
At the end of the meeting his eyes find Smokethroats and he sends the dark furred tom a nod of respect and congratulations. He liked the new lead warrior, and to say he approved of the decision was a understatement. Plus, Smokethroat was a decent name, though he didn’t quite understand what was up with all these two part names all of a sudden. Why complicate things? Still, it might be cool to be known by something else, and for a moment he allows himself to wonder what his new name would be. Fanciful thinking.
Beesong splits away from Cicadastar's side as the tortie smoke leaps to the top of the.. river rock, as he's called it. Are medicine cats supposed to sit somewhere in particular during clan meetings? He has no idea. Stealing a glance up at the tom, illuminated by the full moon, Beesong shuffles to the front of the crowd and takes a seat with his good ear angled towards the leader. His mind buzzes from the excitement of the Gathering. Five leaders, all gifted with nine lives just like Cicadastar. Five medicine cats, all called upon by StarClan to a destiny they could've never imagined for themselves.
Cicadastar announces as much, but not without declaring that RiverClan is stronger. Beesong blinks, but their face betrays nothing, staring blankly at the leader. Stronger... They're unsure of who Cicadastar is trying to convince, but they could only hope that it's enough to ward off any more attacks and bring peace.
They could hope, but the copious amounts of cobwebs and dock leaves they've stored suggest that they fear otherwise.
Beesong's muscles stiffen upon Cicadastar's next announcement. blazestar, as he's called now, has pathetically implemented a rank of deputy. fitting for a kittypet to need help in such a way — we will not be doing this. The medicine cat's brows dip for a split second, before he takes a breath and steels his expression into one that is unreadable. Is is truly so pathetic to be prepared? All five leaders may have nine lives, but they are not immortal. They would not live forever. Anything could happen at any moment; predators, natural disasters, sickness, other cats. When Cicadastar takes his last breath, who would the torch be passed down to?
But they would not risk arguing. They would not show their displeasure. When Cicadastar's gaze rakes over them, they would return his stare with little to betray their own thoughts. It is safer to agree.
The final announcement is one more... joyous. Two lead warriors who would help maintain order in RiverClan. Two more pairs of eyes to keep watch. Beesong nods to the pair of them, approving. Willowroot and Smokethroat are commendable choices, both level-headed warriors who wouldn't cause unnecessary drama.
Frost had not gone to the meeting, but hearing the voice of Cicadastar brought her attention over, curled ears swerving towards the leader to hear what he had to announce, humming before tilting her head slightly while her fluffy tail switched slightly while their leader spoke. Something about Blazestar choosing a deputy and deciding not to choose one himself due to the other leader's past with being a kittypet and she rolled her bi-colored eyes. Whats with these pine cats and acting so self-righteous? Cicadastar would eventually pass and then who would take over his legacy or... she shook her head. If he didn't choose a deputy, Riverclan will fade and become no more, everyone would fight for the lead and maybe eventually it would tear them apart. She slowly dug her claw into the ground.
Cicadastar would be the rise and the fall of Riverclan, and it would be to his own selfishness for not choosing a deputy. She hummed a bit before looking over at everyone else, spotting Spider within the shadow who seemed to grin at the fact that Cicadastar refused to follow suit into having a deputy and she shudder a bit. Riverclan was a new beginning and at the announcement of two lead warriors, one of them had been Willowroot, formally Caraway and one of Buck's family. For some reason she felt happy for them, and it was good to know Cicadastar acknowledged them, with that, her gaze began to scan looking for Raccon, wondering how they'd react to Willowroot's promotion. She didn't know Smokethroat that well, but she was sure he deserved such a position. Some parts of her wondered, would she one day be a warrior? would she eventually become a lead warrior of the clan or maybe...stand upon the river rock as leader...
Those thoughts were nice, but she knew deep down, that could never happen. She was Spider's shadow and whatever he decided, she followed suit, she had no future here in Riverclan and her heart dropped at that though. Bi-color gaze drifted downwards and solemnly. This was no time to be sad but... her thoughts did get the best of her.
At the sound of Cicadastar's call, Lily joins the growing number of RiverClan cats to sit beneath the river rock to listen to what he has to say. She was surprised at such a late meeting but by his own words, there had clearly been some news from the gathering that was worth immediately speaking about.
It is the mention of Blazestar and the new role of deputy that piques her interest. She doesn't miss the way he speaks of the SkyClan leader, nor how some cats tense in response to the way he speaks of him. Lily does not like to think ill of her leader but even she thinks it is foolish for him to be so dismissive of a position simply because he deems it to be a weakness. Is it weak to be aware of your own mortality? True, Cicadastar was blessed with nine lives but he was not infallible. What would happen when he passed? How strong would RiverClan be then if there was not a cat waiting to take his place and ensure RiverClan didn't crumble without the steady guiding presence of a leader. The young cat kept her mouth shut for now, but the disapproval of this announcement shows on her face, and she does not care to hide it. She instead focuses on the promotions of Willowroot and Smokethroat as well as any further information to come from this meeting.
( ♬ ) they're exhausted. sleep guides their paws steadily towards their den as the clan returns from the eventful gathering. moon high in the sky, night blanketing the river banks, they finally feel as though rest may come to them should they try. slender smokey paws hesitate at the entrance to their sleeping quarters as cicadastar's voice rings out loud over camp. a soft sigh comes from their chest as the silver bathed feline turns, verdant gaze now fixed upon the figure. he's imposing this time, speaking with assuredness and a little bit of that old warmth, although his words are like claws as he addresses the idea of a second in command. privately, willowroot doubts the ability of the man to lead all by himself. he is exhausted as well- they can tell even as he tries to conceal it. his injuries not quite fully healed, the warrior knows that it's only a matter of time before something drastic happens. still, the man is stubborn and prideful, protective of his leadership and his clan. it's admirable in a way, they suppose.
tall ears flick in genuine surprise as their name is called. not their old name of course, for caraway is a nickname at best now. no, willowroot is called, justified for her strength and loyalty, and the smoke cannot help it if some of the praise sends warmth up their chest. the angular head tips with interest at the idea of lead warriors, heat skipping a beat at the offered power. this is a step in the right direction towards trust. cicadastar may not know her well, but wil decides then and there that he will. she will defend this clan with whatever power he grants her. standing from her position, she slinks to the front, paws slotting in beside smokethroat as they both gaze up at the man. a glimmer of pride hides in the depths of the slender femme's eyes as they speak after the other."i accept as well. i will do my best to serve and protect this clan."she pauses, eyes now locked with her leaders. "thank you." the words, while simple, mean much more than simple gratitude in the thoughts of the new lead warrior. cicadastar, no matter how distrusting, has offered her a place here. she's going to take it.
− ♱ ABOUT : they both agree. he'd little faith that they wouldn't, but his chest still beams with warmth upon their pleased, prideful calls of acceptance. they were both strong, loyal warriors and he had great faith in them ; despite he and willow's rocky start, the man felt as though he could lie this newfound responsibility within their paws with trust. he dips his head thankfully, " then from now on, you will both serve as my lead warriors. may starclan guide your paws, just as you will guide riverclan." the man offers a smile, before casting his gaze out wide over the sea of cats once more, " emberstar of thunderclan has implemented mentorship, as well as a mandatory -paw given to youth until they've earned their full warrior name. after some consideration, we will be implementing this as well. " icy eyes search for the clan's youth, softening just slightly despite himself. they were all promising, passionate and headstrong − with hope, this would make training and discipline easier on them all, " youth will be given their names in the morning. "
" there is one more thing i would like to address before i sent you off to sleep once more. " his eyes flit over the crowd, finding one specific brown - toned molly that had followed their numbers back from the gathering. his lip twitches, but he speaks, " i'm sure some of you may have noticed a new face amongst our ranks. i assure you, this is intentional. buckgait --" cicadastar fights to keep the name from dripping from his tongue like honey, thick and smug,"has joined us under probation ; no cats under five months are allowed near her alone. lightningstone, i ask that you see her around camp personally, and report any untoward behavior to me. " this was her chance ; her only chance, his mind snarls, frothing and nipping at the bars of its cage in protest. her active threats did not fall on deaf ears, though he welcomed her to his clan both in pity and for her family − his glance briefly dips to willow, to raccoon, before settling back on buckgait. another smile, bitter at the edges, " i bid you official welcome to riverclan. "
that was that, then. the man breathes a sigh, letting his shoulders relax and standing up. his mouth opens − and thunder comes out.
deep, loud booming sounds from closely outside camp, sending a cacophony of sound rustling from the undergrowth before suddenly, ducks burst from the wavering reed. a blinding storm of feathers and wild, alarmed honks. cicadastar jolts, tossing his head over his shoulder and narrowly missing a duck flapping rapidly, desperate to join its brethren in the air and away from whatever had made that sound. the tortie scrabbles to leap from the rock, landing awkwardly on the ground below and lifting his eyes up towards the heavens, the flocks of bird still flying eagerly away. thunder bursts once more, a little further down the river, "scheisse!" he spats, tossing his head, " all youth, elder and queens to your dens until i give the word. " he snaps, gesturing with his tail tip for his lead warriors to approach and follow him once he turns. he would have one of them run a patrol . . whether this was good or bad timing, he wasn't sure.
official riverclan welcome to @BUCKGAIT. , to be watched by @LIGHTNINGSTONE ! this also serves as the introduction to our clanwide plot, so please be sure to check that out here!!
− CICADASTAR ; he / him. roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
− handsome, lanky black smoke tortie chimera with curly fur and icy blue eyes
− gay. speaks with a thick german accent, former marsh cat, penned by antlers
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