private SPARE THE ROD [ ༄ ] lightningstone

[CICADASTAR]

this call had been silent. a meeting of eyes across camp, a larger dipping swivel of an ear towards the willow den he sits precariously aside, salt blue luminaries shadowed in their reed - locked gaze. lightningstone had come through on dusk patrol at last, flash of pale blue lifting his head ; patrol leader, trusted warrior. mated to the brown molly toiling away in their nursery and he can make no complaints, muted and reigned as she was now. his children grow rapidly, trusted to train his child himself, trusted to.. to watch. when blue paws start his way, golden against bitter shards of river ice, he stands. ivory paws stride slow through the maw of his den, flicks his tail to be followed. not a word is spoken aloud.

mottled phantom, he haunts the far corner of his den when lightningstone enters — and there is little time before he speaks, irritation dripping vitriolic from the barbs of his tongue, " boneripple, lichentail. " it’s a command, almost, in its own right. this was not about dusk patrol. his tone is a pitched mutter of irritation, like an elder biting at a pesky tick..and that was what they were, wasn’t it? the dark molly, bloodsucking resources he’d offered her in the wake of her cowardice, familial abandonment. lichentail, glaring, bold enough to tell him how to act — how to handle his own borders. expected him to cry and coddle atop the girl he’d fought aside only moons ago ; the girl he’d watched shred thunderclan blood at his side. a girl who’d spoken to him with a voice trembling exhaustion, but wise, careful — she rests in ravenpaw’s den now, healing and recovering from scars both mental and physical. he thinks to visit her, bring her minnow and settle aside her nest until ravenpaw’s herbal remedies send her back to sleep. they’d been so irritable — would they have met hyacinthbreath with the same forced welcome? ridiculous.

“ they’ve proven themselves incapable of protecting their borders. incapable of pulling their heads from their tails enough to listen through all the dung in their ears. “ suspicion, suspicion. if they were to confront him for something so trivial, what else did they plan? like the tom’s own mate, he was not to coddle them — he was not to bend and break. their river, their protection, wanes with each day, “ .. the river is lowering. snakeblink informed me skyclan awareness of this, it’s only a matter of time before the rest catch on. i need to know this territory is guarded. “ it wanes, fish wane, safety wanes. their kittish whines for friendliness, for warmth, would wane in the wake of the terrors replacing their river water. thunderclan had caught them in a moment of weakness, loners mill at their territories edge — and the two could simply not be trusted to act, to defend their scent markers, ” especially considering one is currently on my council ; and you do have such a keen eye for.. strange activity. “

ghostlike, icy eyes flick towards him, bright amidst the willow darknesss. just as with buckgait, he does not want to say it — can feel the reluctance eat words he wants to ask, to say. and silk binds his words, pearl teeth caging something lilting. something prodding. there is a brief pause, as if a thought occurs ; sudden, eyes lighting, ” ah — but you do have your paws full with meadowpaw, ja? i imagine the shallow waters are disrupting his fishing lessons.. certainly for such a new apprentice. “ they wade in deeper waters now, upstream where they divide between the other clans. and it was a shame, wasn’t it? to wait until fish flit by to eat himself, and even then — it was not promised. an ear twitches, but he only relaxes further, wrapping a curled tail around ivory paws. to wait.

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i. @LIGHTNINGSTONE huh….. sneaky momence……
  
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ 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. 50 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
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• "speech"
  

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[LIGHTNINGSTONE]

Keen hazel eyes grip the camp in his eternal watch. He is not terribly strong nor remarkably fast. He is no above average fisher or swimmer. This is his weapon. Knowledge, his mind, and when he catches his leader's eye, he is clever enough to know immediately he is being summoned by the spider-like tom. He gets to his paws and stalks towards the willow tree where he resides, slipping inside with fluffy tail lashing behind him. He finds Cicadastar with half-lidded eyes, hears the names he utters.

Boneripple, Lichentail...

He knows what it means. He has done this before, with Buckgait and with Hyacinthbreath. This seems like it will be less paws-on as those times, though. He is to be a mole, a snake in the grass, an eye always out for, as Cicadastar calls it, strange activity. He understands perfectly. But he is a smart tom, and he knows doing such a job lacks honor. He doesn't care about that; what he does care about is that it is a risk he will undertake, and risks must reap rewards. His leader reads his mind, bringing up his son, Meadowpaw.

He lifts his chin, curled ears twitching. "I do have a family to look out for," He comments, lacking caution. He needs not be subtle about what he is asking. "The lowering waters strike me as a bad omen for what is to come. I will be your eyes, but I want your favor in return. We will no doubt bring in less fish. What is brought in, goes to me and mine first." He waits to see the other's reaction, silver tail twitching back and forth.​

 

[CICADASTAR]

the silvery tom follows suit, and instantly, black pupils narrow sharper. intent, ears swiveling to a forward sit atop his skull. i do have a family to look out for. " a lovely one, yes. " the mottled feline speaks, an agreeing hum trilling low from his throat ; icicle eyes flit away briefly, fix on the slit of light marring his den. the lowering waters strike me as a bad omen, he says, and a bristle of despair builds nauseously in the pit of his belly. his jaw sets, sweeping lidded hues back towards his warrior. a bad omen, indeed. he knows — he tries not to think of it, to ignore the drying sand as best he could, until the source was found. it was only a matter of time.

and then, lightningstone casts the proposal — a mild shock courses through him, a forward mess that he tampers with a subtle adjustment, a brief lick of his curled chest. straight to the point, he supposed. a fine quality in a warrior, as much as it crawls beneath his fur, ” your family will be provided for. “ he begins, slow and steady, all slitted hues and flicking, agitated tailtip. but he swallows finally, releases a breath. their prey would be low, of course it would ; but the promise of extending prey to the colony at his borders strains. but his decision is made, ” i will see to it myself. “ with that, he lifts, extending to mighty height and flourishing his tail back behind.

a sound cracks behind his willow entrance and eyes blow wide for only a fraction, before his head turns, lifting his chin dismissively. had his mate returned? panic flares, and he scrambles to douse the fires rousing in his chest, ” youre excused, lightningstone. “ curt, a sudden, clipping tone. that’s all.

COLD & CRUEL LIKE WINDS ON THE SEA  ╱ INFORMATION ✟

• i.
  
• ★ ⋆ CICADASTAR −−−− FOUNDING LEADER OF RIVERCLAN. HOMOSEXUAL, MATED TO SMOKETHROAT. FIFTY MOONS, FATHER TO STARLIGHTKIT, CICADAKIT && BEEKIT. PENNED BY ANTLERS −−−−− ⁺₊✧
  
  
  he / him. tall, elegantly curled smoke tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt blue eyes. his structure sings a feral sort of hymnal, presenting an almost dangerous sort of beauty veiling what monstrosities lie beneath the ivory of his skull. jutting jawline and a squared chin, sunken cheeks drawing a shadow beneath high, sharp cheekbones with tall, angular ears settling high atop the flatter slope of his cranium. he is beautiful ; lucifer in the eyes of an envious god. for all his looks, his expression is lax, void — corpse - eyed and hollow until spoken to, sparking the undead to life. he is tall, lean, cut - glass pretty ; he smiles with too - many teeth, blackened frostbite pulling back his maw to bear canines setn beneath curling whiskers, pantomime skeletal. a predatory gracefulness from the lines that press the image of exhaustion beneath ice water hues to the slow, sure gait in which he walks, nameless strength poorly concealed within the hard lines of his physique. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unnaturally tall amongst his peers, always holding himself with a tragic sort of grace ; poised, prim, and uncannily aware of how he appears.
  
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── smells like wet moss and meadowland thunderstorms.
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── notoriously paranoid and closed, cicadastar tends to lie, assume, and jump to conclusion whenever it suits him. any 'suspicious' ic actions he witnesses or hears about will have a strong effect, and will have ic consequences! if you're unsure of an interactions outcome, please feel free to send a dm! no character opinions represent my own.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• " speech "​
  
  
  

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