STRONGER MONSTERS ✬ pre-gathering chatter

[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

A thin layer of excitement coats her form as she takes in the sight of fourtrees for the first time. She wasn't sure what to expect with this being her first gathering, but her clanmates overall did not seem too thrilled about coming. Citrine eyes pan over the vast crowd in silent awe, pausing briefly in her march to take everything in. Eventually she snaps to after noticing a growing gap between herself and the rest of shadowclan. Tornadopaw follows closely in behind Flickerfire as she meanders through the swiftly growing crowd of mingling cats. From what she could gather both wind and what she assumed as skyclan were looking rather roughed up. After looking at some of their tired and rugged appearances she was beginning to think that practically starving was the lesser evil to a multitude of wounds.
(Open to interactions!)​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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[TIGERFROST]

Tags and Information

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Only lightly wounded during the short-lived war against SkyClan, Tigerfrost strides into the clearing with head and tail high, his expression stony and cold as the surrounding snow. The moon is high where it floats amidst the starlit sky, and the leaders take their places upon the jutting stone in the middle of it all. The chimera Warrior says nothing, merely makes his way toward the front so that he can have a good view when the announcements were given to the surrounding crowd. No doubt, this would be a juicy gathering.

[open to interaction]​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

The first cat that noticed him flew in like a wittering warbler, a tremulous twitter that was more of a vexation than a songster. It was made even worse by the moor-stench that wafted off of the grey tabby, though the rank stench of sweat and blood had all but remained upon the Windclanners that gathered, as though sins had been swept clean with rosewater and recreancy. It earned a scowl from Chrys that made no attempt of subtlety nor quietude, as if it leached into clay features and bony visage, a sharp image that was carved of corners and crevices. When he had disdain, he hadn't a problem letting it creep like ivy upon the stake. He was subject to his own burning anger, of which clawed up limber limbs and willowy wisps. Gnawing through twine-laden heart and argil-made angles, he invited that terrible fire upon his demeanor. His grudges ran as deep as his own claws, and he wouldn't forget what this stranger's clan had done to his own. He saw naught the bird but the talons it beheld.

Snailpaw dug his grave when Chrys heard him utter the word 'kittypet' - like some sort of trigger hair, urging the will of snapping teeth and lashing tongue. The grey tabby practically gawked at Chrys' belly and plume, as though he were some spectacle in a cage, or some exotic and ethereal event brought to mortality. The chimaera-coated cat fluffed up his fur in an irate indignation, mismatched eyes smoldering as twin suns, perched upon pitch-black sockets. Who did they even think they were, just approaching him and insulting him? Did they not recall the outcome of that recklessly craven raid they just undertook? "I am not a kittypet. Don't ever call me a kittypet again, unless you and your mange-ridden, dirt-smelling clan want a round two on that battle you ran away from." He snarled. Chrysalispaw was no pageant, and he certainly wasn't for the consumption of dumbstruck moor-dwellers.

At Howlpaw's appearance, his hackles lowered just barely, and he avoided saying anything that could possibly incriminate him. Chrys shot a heterochromatic glare at the familiar apprentice, before returning his stare to Snailpaw. He let out a sigh laced with pure exhaustion. "Thanks, Holepaw." He muttered under his breath, an ungracious tone that wavered in the slightest hint of vulnerability, before the blade became sharpened once more. "And she's right, y'know. That's probably why your clan is so scrawny - the only food you've got to eat is the dung in those tunnels you nose through."

( Talking with @SNAILPAW and @Howlpaw )
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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 Sunstride bade him watch their clanmates before Wolfsong left with their fellows for this event, and he fully intends to. It isn't a matter of trust but vigilant protection; they have only very recently fought a battle with cats who will be in attendance and there will be tension. Of course, that is not the sole reason Sunstride asked him to be the keen-eyed raven among the branches, but it is the one Wolfsong will keep at the forefront of his mind lest someone looks too closely at him in turn.

He watches Snailpaw engage with a SkyClanner, and his one-eyed gaze lingers just in case before tracking Slatepaw making a beeline for RiverClan. I do not like the way Lynxtooth looked at his apprentice when we returned. If Slatepaw were to leave with the RiverClanners, I would not say a word of it to the worm-eaten arseface. He seems intent on getting another cat's attention, and Wolfsong temporarily leaves him to it in favor of following Periwinklepaw with his stare. Another with ties in RiverClan, and another apprentice willing to risk Sootstar's displeasure.

If it is brave warriors she wants, she should expect strong wills. Is it obedience or strength that compels her more? Wolfsong cannot say, but her recent vision and the rapid banishments have left him...pensive. Still, he is here to watch his clanmates in Sunstride's place, nothing more, so he hunkers down and continues. He briefly considers joining Snailpaw to provide a shoulder against the baleful gazes of the SkyClan apprentices, but stays for now. They are more gum than tooth, saved only by the bodies of minnow-slurpers.

//open to interactions!
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[RAVENSONG]

He's fully expecting a fight to break out—verbally or physically. Part of this is because of his leader's decision to bring the refugee cats with them to the gathering. Maybe he doesn't understand the politics of it, but it's far beyond the authority of the overgrown dark-pelted apprentice. All he could do was sit and sulk in his corner, but maybe he ought to find someone to pester.

He saw the large dark tom he had tried to help in the raid, the one who called him kid despite his abnormal height. The apprentice's tail lashed, finally happy to have something to be bitter about. He stared at Slate for a while before dragging his eyes up to the rock where the leaders were settling. And then, he realized it—ShadowClan's deputy was taking the place. Ravenpaw blinked, looking around at the other attendants before setting sights on @Tornadopaw . Yes, she had the ShadowClan stench.

The RiverClan apprentice edged over to her, hoping to pry some valuable information under the guise of a chat. "Are you a fan of these things?" He asked, ears folded against his head. "I'm Ravenpaw, by the way."

/interacting with tornadopaw, open to others/multiple interactions​

 

[ashpaw!]

Of course the raid is on her mind — Iciclepaw, her Iciclepaw (when did Ash start thinking of her like that?) had been caught up in the battle, and Darkpaw and Gillpaw, too — her friends — and Cicadastar and Smokethroat, of course, the warriors at the forefront, river king and his consort. Everyone's thinking about the raid. Everyone from RiverClan and WindClan and SkyClan, anyway. So of course she is too.

But secretly she is thinking, most of all, of something else.

Some one else.

He calls her name before she's even really had the chance to start looking — she turns, glass-green eyes scanning, and spots him: lips part and eyes widen in an expression of disbelief, because even with all this time (weeks since that fated patrol) to mull it over, it hasn't really sunk in. She can't wrap her head around it — Slate is alive.

...ah, Slatepaw now. A clan cat like herself. (A WindClanner.)

She's excited — but she's terrified. He's a WindClanner, and there is something wrong with those cats. They're horrible, war-hungry, bloodthirsty, and her own littermate is one of them — he can't be the same kitten she knew, back when they were so tiny, almost too tiny to form memories. (She thinks of that kitten — that tiny, tiny Slate — he had loved to play. He'd been a little more timid than Ash or Gravel, often trailing behind on their toddling adventures. He'd smelled like home, like Silverfoot, like Adelaide.)

What could he be like now?

She thinks of Hyacinthbreath and Spiritpaw, though... they left. They were scared. They hadn't been bad WindClanners. They hated Sootstar as much of the rest of them. So maybe —

Maybe.

Slatepaw is smiling. Ashpaw's heart leaps — she breaks away from the rest of her clan, orange furball tumbling toward their outskirts. "Slate," she responds, and she sounds almost desperate. A family. She still has a family, after all this time? She has a brother — a brother who's alive?

She'll stumble to a stop in front of him, settled away from the rest of RiverClan.

"You're — you can't be — you're really Slate? My moms, our moms — you — my brother — WindClan, why are you in WindClan — tell me everything, please tell me everything."

The words fall from her lips in a rush, all tangled up with each other. She's tripping over her own thoughts in her excitement (and fear). It doesn't occur to her that he might find her just as much a mystery, that he might want to know her story, too. She's too focused on him — black and white and so familiar, like her timid little brother really got to grow up after all.

"Slate," she whispers again, glass-green eyes wide, bouncing — almost vibrating — on snow-capped paws.

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—— " i found gold in the wreckage "

✦ ooc ✦ character information ✦ recent events

• interacting with @slatepaw , open for more interactions!! feel free to notice that she's suspiciously friendly with a windclanner
  
  
• - 6 month old orange tabby with green eyes
  - apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
  - happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
  - very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
  - "speech"
• - disclosed being physically and psychologically abused by Spiderfall, who was exiled & who then killed her best friend
  
  - temporarily apprenticed to npc pebbleskip due to willowroot moving into the nursery
  

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[smogstar]

ShadowClan's ruler has elected to sit this one out. What an awful fate, resting comfortably in his realm while the common filth attends this affair in his stead. It's an inopportune move for sure, serving only to affirm this lens of weakness that the other clans saw them through. And yet, the ashen tabby supposes he cannot fully fault Pitchstar for his absence; had a pack of disease-ridden mice left Smogmaw bloodied and beaten to a similar effect, he too would secrete himself from the public eye.

Assuming he has any, the shame his leader must feel is delicious.

Chilledgaze speaks on Pitchstar's behalf tonight. Their dark outline amidst the other leaders is a peculiar sight, and he keeps his gaze fastened to it as he shuffles into Fourtrees' domain. It isn't something he wants to grow used to seeing, so optimistically speaking, Pitchstar won't have any more fantastic ideas before the next gathering.

As per usual, he departs from the larger crowd of ShadowClan cats without delay. Making smalltalk with those he suffered with is easier said than done. Everything that they can potentially say - every complaint, insult, critique - is already registered in his psyche. He needs something new, someone novel to kill time alongside during this waste of time. It'd been with a brawny SkyClan kittypet two gatherings ago, and a geriatric WindClan bloke at the last one. Who knows what tonight will bring?

Dreary eyes latch onto a vaguely familiar form, one sandwiched between several river rats. He starts to pad over, apathetic paws weaving around the busybodies and gossips in the clearing. It becomes apparent when he draws near that another cat also seeks her attention, bidding to do so by meekly saying her name. Hyacinthbreath.

It is beyond him whether this is a reunion of some kind or simply a dramatic greeting. "Heartening," utters Smogmaw, interposing on their theatrics. His tongue is sardonic, unmoved by the show of emotion. "Don't mean to interpose, so forgive me," he drawls on, "but after hearing Sootstar's interpretation of recent events, I've become all the more interested in learning how Hyacinthbreath would describe them." Muddy eyes pursue her own. Their innate insipidness masks the steep amount of interest he has in the matter. "I feel there's more to the story than what's been let on."

ShadowClan's union with the moor dwellers exists only in dialogue, not actions. Worse yet are the whispers of Sootstar's autocracy which carry on the wind, alongside rumours about dissent and opposition. How his dear leader expects anyone to have faith in these so-called allies exceeds his own comprehension.

Should Hyacinthbreath accede and disclose the knowledge he seeks, perhaps it will equip him with an argument sufficient enough to dissuade Pitchstar from keeping this farce of a pact alive.

// interposing on @hyacinthbreath and @Periwinklebreeze. , open to other interacts :3 ​

 

[SNAILSTRIDE]

He blinked fervently at the sudden outburst of the SkyClanner, making a mental note that the word that saying 'kittypet' to a SkyClanner was akin to calling a RiverClanner 'fish breath'. They flinched at the worst of insults but didn't move away, grateful to have learned something even if was from another miserable apprentice - Snailpaw was plenty used to dealing with them at home."I mean of course we ran away, it's not our territory! But uh, what do you mean by 'you'? Do you mean personally, or collectively? Because I wasn't there! I was uh..." Would it make them more or less cool in the eyes of SkyClanners if they told them that they'd conveniently disappeared when patrols were being organised? Snailpaw quickly looked around, realised that Wolfsong was watching him, and decided that truth was best saved for a deathbed. "Well it doesn't matter what I was doing. The point is you gotta be specific because that stuff really wasn't my fault. Can't help where you're born, right?" Would Chrysalispaw have preferred to be born in the wild? Stars, how easy life would be if they'd swapped places at birth, they really weren't cut out to be a WindClanner.

Another apprentice interjected on Chrys' behalf and the marbled tabby turned their head, nodding in understanding. So the kittypets ate prey and got food at home? Heck, why wasn't he a SkyClanner? A brief eye was cast to the leaders up on high, and Snailpaw found their answer immediately. 'Stupid borders.' Life hadn't been better before them, but they didn't know if that was because of the law or because their mentor had been far less patient with them back then. Their ears flopped in different directions, the confused Snailpaw looked down towards their chest, pushing away some of the fluff with a broad paw. "What? Wait what's wrong with me? I'm not in a state, am I?" Spinning around like a dog trying to get comfortable, Snailpaw tried looking for discrepancies in their usual appearance that would suggest a diet of mouse droppings, but all they saw was a couple of strands of fur pointing in the wrong direction. Chrys spoke again and a long 'ohhhhhhhh' escaped the feline, finally understanding what Howlpaw had meant. It was an insult about the clan's weight, hardly anything to scoff at from an enemy group, but Snailpaw remained unoffended.

After all, why should they get mad on their clan's behalf for something like that? It helped the WindClanners run like cheetahs and the tunnels navigate without the fear of getting stuck, they didn't expect the bigger-boned SkyClanners to understand an advantage like that when they lived in a forest. "Oh, I don't nose through the tunnels! Well except for that one time but that wasn't to find droppings, I was actually searching for mushrooms! You guys are really sweet, you know? All these comments about our weight and our mouse-dropping diet when we actually eat rabbits, you're all just so.... naive's not the right word uh.... innocent! You're really innocent! It's nice. Stay that way as long as you can daisies, these clans can be so... so... they'll test ya." Snailpaw smiled away, straining somewhat at the thought of other clans having a tougher training routine than WindClan. From what they'd heard, it wasn't the case, another thing to grow green over, but despite proclaiming the others as naive, Snailpaw knew they had plenty to learn too. Question after question, they'd try their hardest to gain the stories of the clans and build their own opinions free of WindClan's influence.

[ interacting with @CHRYSALISPAW and @Howlpaw ! ]
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[hitch]

in character   out of character   character tags   reference

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  ── He doesn't know why he's here. He's avoided this place from the moment he had to carry Rubble's body back to the marsh, mind and memory scattered like uneven fractals of light in a pair of eyes. Rosemire had wavered between denial and guilt and blame until he was too exhausted for anything more than weary acceptance. Would it even matter if he confessed to Rubble and Flint's murders? The clans have all moved on to new struggles and new wounds to claw deeper. Rain and Briar are both gone and the creeper vine divides endlessly.
  
  He rubs at his gaunt face with a bony paw, as though he might force the thoughts from his head with a bit of pressure. It doesn't really work, so he scours the many cats present for...well, anyone, really. Except Bonejaw. Definitely fucking not, but he supposes he does hope life is greener on the other side of the river.
  
  In the end, he forces his pale shape in the direction of a SkyClan cat. It hasn't escaped his notice that there are SkyClan and WindClan cats visibly wounded from battle, but Rosemire doesn't have the damn energy to even brush against that topic. Attending the Gathering has already drained him enough.
  
  "Hope I'm not intruding," he says to the flaxen feline with a weak smile. "Do you like frog? I've been trying to find someone who does. Maybe I should ask a RiverClanner instead, but you seem..." Rosemire waves vaguely in his direction. "Worldly."
  
  

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• interacting with @Sharpeye​
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• ──── surr'oseal'isme (rosemire; formerly roseal). he/him. reluctantly shadowclan.
  ──── approximately thirty-eight months old; not entirely certain of his own age.
  ──── single & uninterested in any romantic attachments; possibly open for flings.
  ──── very tall, scarred albino with sharply-peaked ears and a bobbed, scruffy tail.
  ──── ─── currently noticeably thin and haggard. ribs and spine are pronounced.​
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[DAWNGLARE]

Oh, his blood boiled just being here. Curses writhing beneath frayed flesh. He was high above the chattering of clan cats. Rarely, did he ever spend a moment with them. Not worth speaking, none, except for one. And that one brings a cruel irony with him. Surrounded completely and utterly by enemies, how is he to know if a scent was good, or evil?

And, oh, he ached dearly for that familiar good. He may have refused his coming otherwise. Even with his apprentice, newly declared, trailing behind him, his mind was on a track Firefly was not built on. His gaze invites no conversation, ice-hot fury and a tail that lashed. So, so strangely, following his life's dreary end, Blaise only seemed more empowered. Gone was the broken man who sat wordlessly in his den, pondering what could have been. No, he's emboldened, and by what? Fuel to the fire, that he had not been privy. And if he was not to be told, then who was?

Perhaps the strangest thing he hears is a cat asking of Skyclan's well-being. So strange to realize that, the event that's taken over their lives was only a story to the other clans. "Oh, we certainly fought with someone," muttered in passing, he does not care if they hear, but his mouth moved before mind. Belatedly, he acknowledged: Shadowclan, the only other stench that had him wrinkling his nose as he did. Allied with the beasts of the moor, they were no better. Why pretend to be concerned, why?

He nearly forgets Fireflypaw is with him, his gaze already searching, searching, but brought out of his stupor, he has the sense to leave him by the stone. Hushed voice, whipped whisper. "If anyone bothers you... Tell me, and I will deal with them," he hisses, and he's sincere. He nearly drifts off without further word, but, the gnawing, still persistent, even with immortality bestowed. A sigh through his nose. "I will return... later." His eyes lift, and briefly, he would attempt to find Honeybee in the crowd. They would be the ideal to watch over him, but oh... well.

So, his quest continues. His opportunity for that piece of him to be recovered... Dreaded snow, their meeting had been woefully denied. Through brick and blizzard, he would surely crawl his way, regardless. But Mother's winds were relentless. He'd been nothing left than trapped, doomed to rot within his frigid prison.

And, he frets. Plastered against frosted white fur was a smattering of cobweb, his own wounds, caught and sustained, an ugly mark against something otherwise, perfect. He only hopes to catch his eye before anything else possibly could.​

[ Mumbles to @FLICKERFIRE in passing, speaks to @Fireflypaw, briefly looks to catch @BEESONG's eye before pursuing his search for @MALLOWLARK <3 ]​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

WindClan. Silversmoke's anticipation turned into hunger, his mouth nearly watering at the thought of getting to sink his metaphorical teeth into them for their stunt. He saw them disperse with ease, some keeping to themselves, some finding others amidst the crowd, one bothering his apprentice. He saw Chrys' hackles rise and decided to keep a closer eye on that interaction; he didn't want his apprentice rising to any WindClan threats, it was supposed to be the other way around. The tabby leaned forwards, preparing to intervene until someone spoke to him. He turned his head, catching Cranecatcher's eye, then Cindershade's, who offered him a silent greeting. Hesitating, he eventually returned a nod to the RiverClanner and looked back towards Cranecatcher, his ears perked forwards when he realised the feline was already talking to him. 'Sorry Chrys'. A mentor getting revenge for an apprentice's slights was petty, not necessary, but Silversmoke would call his reluctant dismissal of Chrys just that. His eyes widened slightly in recognition of the RiverClanner, the questions that Silver had asked him now flaring back up to the forefront of his mind. They'd been lonely then, hadn't they? With no friends or family in SkyClan to speak of.

Silversmoke could say the same. Duty to a clan did not mean making friends, though he was learning that it helped. The corner of his maw twitched with something similar to content as he heard Cranecatcher's name, it was nice to hear someone with a normal name again after welcoming new kittypets into the clan. "Silversmoke. And no, we didn't, it wasn't the right time for a proper introduction." Copper and WindClan scent had plagued the air that the tabby breathed, leaving little room for conversation past suffocating and the odd question. His muscles tensed once asked about the state of SkyClan. unsure if the other wanted to play a political game with him or was genuinely curious. He tilted his head upwards,quietly assessing the bengal before giving his answer. "We're fine. A whole patrol of cats and the best those moor rats could take was two little plants. They're an unimpressive lot, most of us didn't get that badly hurt, we can attend the gathering with no issue." They mewed loudly in response. Silversmoke counted three majorly injured cats, and one of them had hopped up to the leader's boulder for the entirety of the forest to see.

"With that in mind, I trust RiverClan didn't get too injured on our behalf? I don't see how you would, but I guess even rabbits can show their claws when cornered."

[ briefly acknowledging @Cindershade , interacting with @cranecatcher ]



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[SLATESNARL]

The scarred tom had not expected to make conversation with anyone tonight; small talk was not his strong suit, as he much rather preferred to sit back and observe. However, in an event as highly social as this one, he supposed it wasn't completely out of the ordinary to be approached by someone. Just... why did it have to be him?

A tortoiseshell molly addresses him and presumably the other SkyClanner standing within the vicinity — his name escapes him at the moment. There are a lot of names and faces to store within his memory, after all. Sheesh, Slate was so out of practice with social interaction that he had to mentally brace himself to dive into a conversation with a random stranger. It was only a matter of time before someone inquired about the fresh wounds decorating the SkyClanners like accolades. It wasn't like their injuries were subtle. "A badger would've been a more worthy opponent than the dumbasses we fought." Snorts Slate, the very thought of the battle leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. As a newcomer to the clans, he had no real basis for disliking WindClan, but their pathetic attempt to raid their camp and slaughter their border patrol had definitely earned them a high-ranking spot on his personal shitlist.

His amber hues shift amongst the crowd momentarily, the scowl upon his maw curling even tighter. "We're standing amongst the thieves as we speak. Surprised they even bothered to come." What would their leader possibly even have to say about the situation? Not one but two clans could attest to their nonsense. Would the others turn against WindClan as well?

Hm. Well, all would unfurl in due time. Slate found himself not knowing what else to say to the stranger, not being a huge conversationalist himself, but he supposed he could inquire about her allegiance. Her scent was not familiar, though he supposed he only really recognized two — SkyClan's and RiverClan's ( vaguely ). "So... what, er, clan are you from?" If it wasn't obvious enough that this was his first ever gathering, then it would be as plain as day now.​

— * ✰. ooc information recent events * ✰. —

• interacting with @FLICKERFIRE
  
• 
  ✰ SLATE
  —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. twenty-nine moons old. warrior of skyclan; former rogue.
  —— unrefined, rough and tumble rogue who is not accustomed to clan life. only trustful of his littermate, duskmane.
  —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.
  
  quite the hulk of a cat, slate stands above the average clanmate with an arrogant gait. he has a dark gray ( bordering on black ) colored pelt with a pale-brown-tinged underbelly and whisps of tan at the tips of his chest hairs. amber-colored eyes contrast against his dark palette. notable features include a jagged scar across his right eye and two small scratches across the bridge of his nose.
• —— decided to officially remain in skyclan as a warrior
  —— participated in battle with windclan, currently recovering from belly scratches and a bite mark on hind leg
  

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[BURNSTORM]

The last gathering Burnpaw had been to bad turned his entire life upside down. A whole half of his heart had been ripped away from him here. His brother, his sister, his father. They had all chosen a life without him and he hates them for it. It’s a selfish feeling, deep down he knows it but he cannot help it. He had loved them and love makes everything so much harder so much more complicated.

As they enter that sacred clearing his eyes dart to all the faces in attendance, as if taking inventory. His uncle immediately goes and chats with the deputies, go figure. He rolls his eyes at that, but keeps moving, desperately sorting through the crowds of cats to find two faces in particular, though he is not certain if he even wants to see them. Then, before he can make up his mind, they are there. Seal point and chocolate respectively. His heart twists painfully in his chest and he turns away with lips curled up in a grimace.

He closes his eyes and re-centers himself before going to sit somewhere else, somewhere a good distance from his estranged siblings. in doing so he overhears two other apprentices talking and his ear flicks in their direction, his head turning to look at the two dark furred cats before coming to join them. "Does anyone?" he says with a good natured chuckle in response to Ravenpaws question, directed at Tornadopaw but there was no harm in Burnpaws interjection she could still answer as well. "This is just a chance for all the leaders to gloat about how awesome their clan is doing when we all know how badly we’re all just scraping by" and it’s true isn’t it? Every month the leaders get up on their pedestals say everything is awesome and then argue a bit then they go home. Really, who was this for besides them? He wonders.

// interacting with @RAVENPAW. and @Tornadopaw

briefly mentioning @RACCOONSTRIPE @Howlpaw and @Fireflypaw
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[cranecatcher]

TAGS — Cranecatcher can't help but follow Silversmoke's eye to his apprentice. Chrysalispaw is among the bunch that he'd overheard on his way over here- he wonders if there's a connection there, what with the way Silversmoke had seemed prepared to go join them. An apprentice, maybe? He's not sure, but there's plenty of time to ask, isn't there? When Silversmoke finally looks back to him, eyes widening just slightly, Cranecatcher's grin creeps just a touch bigger. It's nice to feel recognized, considering he'd put his neck on the line for SkyClan at that raid- not that anything had really come of it for him. He'd suffered no injury; the most he'd gotten was a pawful of snow to the face and an exhilarating exchange of threats with a WindClanner. Quietly, he wonders what Silversmoke had been doing if he'd not been involved in the scuffle at the border, but he holds his tongue. There are simpler questions to be answering right now.

"You're right, it wasn't," Cranecatcher agrees, tail flicking. That somber, bloodstained mood is something he's grateful to have left behind. He dips his head briefly. "Nice to meet you." Briefly he glances over the WindClanners that have shown up, and so briefly he catches Wolfsong's eye, recognizing the tom as the one who'd gotten him off Badgermoon's tail back in the fray. His ears twitch thoughtfully, but he has no intention of departing this conversation- when Silversmoke speaks up again it's a welcome distraction. A chuckle parts his maw. It seems WindClan couldn't make off with their goods so easily after all. He wonders if it was RiverClan's aid or SkyClan's fortitude that had finally scared them off.

"Good to hear," he hums, and it's genuine. "With all that gloom after the raid, I thought there would've been more injury. I'm glad that's not the case." Not that the aftermath of such a battle is a time to be exactly cheery- even his own spirit had been dampened by the blood wrought from SkyClan and WIndClan flesh alike (though he thinks the moor-rats, as Silversmoke had so aptly called them, perhaps deserved it). When the question is turned back on him, he tilts his head, trying to recall the extent of RiverClan's damage. But, really, he doesn't think there was much. "Well, we only got there towards the end," he puzzles, briefly pausing to wonder if that was really the case or if they'd incited the end to come. Well, either way, it was true. "So no, not really. As far as I'm aware, we made it out with just a few scratches between us all. Better off than WindClan, if nothing else." His grin turns a shade snide.

The broad-shouldered bengal shifts his weight in his seat. "What about the blizzard?" he meows, whiskers twitching. StarClan had been merciful enough to pause the snowfall tonight, but his thoughts flash back to the freezing river, and before he can stop himself the question is out. "It's a hell of a storm." He bites his tongue on the admission that hunting has been made nigh impossible. Maybe if Silversmoke volunteers something similar, he'll extend it in his own show of empathy, but he won't just give it away.

/ still talking with @SILVERSMOKE ; catches @WOLFSONG 's eye in passing & listens in on @CHRYSALISPAW 's conversation​

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[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

Eventually a shadow stands before the curly furred laperm and her eyes shift to glance up at the older apprentice. She regards him carefully, but the tom seems friendly enough, so the brutish femme manages a slight shrug of her shoulders. Her jaws part to speak but another tom dipped in ink approaches to interject. With a blink Tornadopaw glances at him as well, a miniscule frown tugging at the corner of her lips. Is that all these things were? If so then it would severely undermine all the enthusiasm she'd built up this night. She remains silent throughout her brief moment of pondering and after the pregnant pause she eventually speaks up. "I cannot say one way or the other. This is my first gathering." Lowering her haunches to the ground she takes a seat continues on. "Gloating or not, at least the information is still good for us I guess." Her attention briefly flickers to where Chilledgaze sat upon the rock, watching as other cats came to join them. Although she could not make out who they were. "Name's Tornadopaw, nice to meet you both. So, what clan are you from?" She asked them both, although she assumed Burnpaw's to be thunderclan.
(Interacting with @RAVENPAW. and @BURNPAW !)​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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[Sedgerunner]

"BUT I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR"​

More tension lay in the air, electricity pulsing through the dainty paws of a certain WindClanner as she made her way into the clearing of cats. It seemed tension seemed to follow her wherever she went, whether it be here at the Gathering or at home. Though, it wasn't as if it was sheer bad luck, just consequences of certain actions. Swift paws carried her, sticking close with her clan mates with a lowered head and virdian eyes darting everywhere. There was so many here already, so much familiar and yet unfamiliar faces.
Sedgerunner had not participated in the raid against SkyClan, but still her hair prickles along her spine as their scent lingers in her nostrils and glared eyes burn into her pelt. She feels everyone staring, and she absolutely hated it. She felt so vulnerable here, as if she needed to be more on guard than usual. Prominent ears flick uncomfortably at the different conversations around her, catching tidbits of words here and there. SkyClan was ramped and ready for round two, their warriors dropping hints of what had happened to the others.
She stays close to Wolfsong, a fellow warrior she actually felt comfortable with. This meeting was going to be very brutal, and she wouldn't be surprised if a scuffle amongst warriors would erupt before long. It seemed to already be on its way between apprentices as she watched Snailpaw with widened eyes. Bless Snailpaw, for they not know how their point comes across. But a couple of SkyClan apprentices wouldn't know that—and their jabs were stinging and full of malice. Eating mouse-droppings. The cinnamon ticked tabby twisted her maw in disgust at the thought. Her eyes flick to Wolfsong then, trying to meet his singular gaze. "Sh-Should we call Snailpaw back to us, or no?" The warrior whispered to the tom, worry playing in her sing song voice.
"Everyone is s-staring. I don't like it. I can feel eyes stab into my back." She added while falling back onto her jutting haunches, her skinny tail wrapping tightly around her. Sedgerunner hated this feeling, hated the feeling of knowing others were speaking about her and her clanmates. She just wanted to hide, but she couldn't. She had to remain steadfast for WindClan, for her family. She had to be courageous for them if not for herself.

(Interactiong with @WOLFSONG and open for more interaction! Please tag <3)
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Sharpeye]

☁ The tom lifted his head a little higher as Flickerfire approached and spoke. He offered a polite dip of his head in greeting of course, forever aiming to maintain his manners. Right now ShadowClanners were the least of his worries. He wonders briefly if Slate would explain what had occurred, but it doesn't seem to go that way. "Flickerfire here hails from ShadowClan." He explains before he dares to lean in closer to Flickerfire so he could explain things with a more hushed tone. "WindClan attacked us. They even dared to attack our very camp, threatening our youngsters and sick. All for the sake of herbs. I get that leafbare is a difficult time but such violence was unwarranted. We sent them packing of course, but I fear they are growing too bold with their acts of thievery. How long until they start to target other clans?"

Leaning back again he then took the time to look the ShadowClanners up and down with a furrow of concern forming on his brow. "How are things with yourselves? Is your leader okay?" His concern was genuine. It was strange to see the ShadowClan deputy standing there in Pitchstar's place. It was also difficult to see the other clans looking so thin, so tired. "Things must be getting difficult all round... I wish I could help."

His attention then shifted to Rosemire in particular, his tired eyes beginning to brighten somewhat with interest. "Frog? Why yes, I have tasted such creatures. More so in my former homeland up in the hills where they would litter the riverbanks. I just don't seem to find many in the forest, which is a pity. Same for lizards, I really miss lizards." Sharpeye gave a soft sigh as he reflected back on his older memories of life. Back when he had been named Creek. "When the days get hotter I do recommend leaving frogs out on a hot rock in the sun. The flavour they take on after a full day is really quite something."

//Interacting with @FLICKERFIRE and @SLATE and @rosemire
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[Condorcackle]

By the river stones, there sure are a lot of cats out here tonight. Of course that was to be expected, Condorcackle knew that he himself would not miss the gathering for the freshest fish in the world, and certainly not after the recent skirmish had just taken place. It seemed that there were definitely tensions over it, with WindClan in particular receiving quite the number of hostile glares. A few of them seemed kinda oblivious about it, like Snailpaw, which was rather amusing. Condorcackle didn't have any intentions of getting into the middle of that, not right now anyway. He stuck with the patrol of RiverClanners who had made it out tonight, bright blue eyes gazing around at whatever moved the most. Every other moment his attention flicked back to his sibling, Gannetlaugh. A quick check in, just in case. Condorcackle had no intentions of starting any nonsense, especially during a gathering. But where Gannetlaugh was concerned, the wily tom would break just about any rule to make sure they were safe and happy.

//open for interactions!

 

[slatepaw]

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slatepaw
7 moons - windclan apprentice - speech​

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

// interacting with @ashpaw!

slatepaw's smile grew as his sister met him at the outskirts of the group. he had longed for her since that fateful day on the border, though his heart ached at the rift between them. riverclan and windclan weren't on good terms, especially not since their attack in skyclan's camp. his enthusiasm slightly diminished at the thought. slatepaw was not part of that battle, though the bruises from training some nights prior might have suggested otherwise. ashpaw, however, seemed fine - maybe she was luckily spared from the conflict.

he expected all her questions; in fact, he had some questions himself. while he desperately wanted to know where she had been this whole time, why they didn't find each other until now, he held his tongue. ashpaw needed closure more than he did; he had his brother still, and she was separated from both of them.

"ash. i can't believe you're alive," he breathed, unable to keep his grin from forming once again. it felt nice to smile, and he wasn't quite sure when he was last able to. her energy seemed to be rubbing off on him, as he felt like bouncing on her toes right alongside her like a pair of excited kits. if only he had similarly upbeat answers for her.

"lynxtooth - father - took us to windclan," he began. for a moment, his gaze flicked back to his clan. was lynxtooth watching him now? "me and gravel. he's alive too." he fought through the restraint to hide gravelpaw's name under his tongue. she deserved to know about him, but he couldn't say the same about him. he wasn't sure how well he could trust gravelpaw after his agreement with the recent exiles. "i thought you were gone, you and mom. i didn't.. see you two when lynxtooth took us." when he killed adelaide. he felt no need to bring up old wounds such as that; the image was still fresh in his mind, vibrant. but the words rang in his head.


╰── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

༶•┈┈⛧┈★ just a castaway, an island lost at sea

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[iciclefang]

Iciclepaw loses her ginger shadow almost as soon as they enter Fourtrees, though she isn't initially bothered. Ashpaw is coming out of her shell, chatting with other apprentices, and initially the tortoiseshell pays it no mind. Her attentive blue eyes find Hyacinthbreath, a WindClan apprentice snuggled close to her. Her gaze slants with irritation. She fought with RiverClan against her old Clan during the raid, but something tells Iciclepaw she has not really left her old home behind.

Then she notices the similarities to Hyacinthbreath and this apprentice -- their features, the smoky-silver pelts. That cat is her son, she realizes, but the frown does not leave her face. Regardless. Hyacinthbreath vowed to leave WindClan behind her. Does this not include her kin?

And that's when Iciclepaw notices who Ashpaw is engaging with so excitedly. A cat their age, a WindClanner, too. Her fur prickles with unease, and she just happens to catch their words: "Lynxtooth - father - took us to WindClan." She peels her lips back from her teeth in a grimace of distaste. This is Ashpaw's kin, more WindClan kin for the cats who are supposed to be her Clanmates.

Perhaps she is being uncharitable. If Icesparkle or Mudpelt were in another Clan, would she show them such overt affection at Gatherings? Somehow, she doesn't think she would. Even if she were unfortunate enough for Fernpaw, Darkpaw, or Steeppaw to be in a different Clan, Iciclepaw does not think she'd let her loyalties be divided. Clan comes first, always.

She pads closer to Ashpaw, clearing her throat to announce her presence. "Who is this you're talking to, Ashpaw?" Her voice is mild, but her eyes are critical as they score the WindClan feline's pelt. "A WindClanner, I see. How do you know each other, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

// staring at @hyacinthbreath and @Periwinklebreeze. , interacting with @ashpaw ! and @slatepaw ​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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