STRONGER MONSTERS ✬ pre-gathering chatter

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Coyotepaw seems less than enthused, responding with distant vocals and near silent compliance, and Thistleback is as wrathful as ever it seemed. Such insults! WindClan had not ruined Coyotepaw, they had saved him! There's a cruel satisfaction in the thought that he might be getting beneath the SkyClanner's skin, filling him with such spitefulness. He speaks of Coyotepaw as if the other held nothing but anger toward his former clan, but Tigerfrost is not so foolish to believe that, not after the quiet and distant response that the WindClan apprentice had offered. Was is disappointment? Agitation? Oh, how the chimera wished he could read minds, but alas.

He stares up at Thistleback for a moment, eyes glistening with that poisonous satisfaction that burned like fire within his chest. The challenging step closer invites a mocking sneer upon Tigerfrost's maw, and he lets out a rather demeaning 'tsk tsk' in swift reply.

"Quite the attitude. I'd have thought that your leader would teach you how to properly behave at a gathering, but I suppose I expected too much from a group of kittypets." Tigerfrost's words are twisted with contempt toward the other tom. "How's your throat, by the way? Looks like you'll be scarred for life. Such a shame." Of course, it wasn't a shame, not to the WindClanner. Still, his vocals are cool and smooth. He does not raise his voice, nor does he bristle or unsheathe his claws. In the viper's mind, the situation was well under his control. Thistleback would not dare to attack during the gathering, and if he did, well... Tigerfrost would be more than happy to make a very loud fuss about it. Show the other clans the true face of SkyClan, rats that they were.

As for the leash, "You're the kittypet. I wouldn't even know what a leash looks like." A derisive chuff parts his maw, but Tigerfrost had no intentions of allowing the situation to escalate... well, at least not by his own claws. "Farewell. Coyotepaw and I have a clan to get back to." And in the end, he does feel that swell of victory in knowing that Thistleback would be forced to watch Coyotepaw turn his back and walk away with the tabby chimera. In the end, despite his distaste toward Thistleback, the WindClanner had a genuine desire to protect his clan. Allowing SkyClan to foster more traitors within the group was an entirely unacceptable notion.

With the apprentice having already turned to head back toward the bulk of where WindClan lingered, Tigerfrost dutifully follows, planting himself between Coyotepaw and Thistleback. Just in case. The further Coyotepaw was from the temptation of his former clan, the better.

@ThistleBack @Coyotepaw ​
 
A starry-eyed apprentice wandered to his side, and Condorcackle couldn't help but grin. The youth was as amazed as the grey bengal had been himself at that age. The clans were hardly a concept in someone's mind at that point. StarClan had not even existed, five moons ago.
"Why hello there," he purred, more than happy to engage. "They call me Condorcackle. I live over in RiverClan." From the youth's scent, the bengal guessed that he was a ThunderClanner. As he continued on, that made more sense. The young tom seemed to not have a clue as to what was happening between WindClan, SkyClan, and RiverClan at the moment.

"Yeah, now that you mention it, there is a bit of tension, isn't there? I hear WindClan and SkyClan aren' the best of friends right now," he meowed, a flash of concern crossing his features. He didn't want Shiningpaw to be uninformed, but he was also reluctant to spoil his bright attitude. "Oh, how's the weather indeed," he chuckled, readily moving on. "You've got that right, that blizzard had us snowed in right to our dens! Took us a couple days to dig ourselves out. Thankfully, weather's starting to clear. All that melted snow is swelling the river, but if you ask me, just means more fish to hunt." He grinned. Obviously, that wasn't really how reality worked, but he figured it would amuse the young tom. "And how are things in your clan? I hope the blizzard hasn't done any lasting damage."


// @SHININGPAW
 


It was evident to Chrysalispaw that he was dealing with the highest grade of idiot - he figured that breathing in the stale stench of claustrophobia and clods was enough to suck the brain capacity out of every cat. Even if Snailpaw, personally, did not tunnel in there, he knew that stupidity was infectious. Sootstar trained them for war, not for wit. A loud groan pronounced itself from his maw, as exasperation came as easy as eating to the feline, like a tired yet true friend's hand. He held one sable paw to his downy-furred face, as if he were pained by being in the mere presence of them. "Is this some sort of battle tactic that you moor-dwellers are trying now? Annoy the Skyclanners until they keel over and die? If so, it's fucking working." He growled, his cadence a rasping fire mended by incandescent youth, an ever-burning wick to a candle of ire. If he could attack Snail, he would, but the moonlit truce pealed in his head like a warning from his ancestors. He wouldn't be the one to break the silence, no matter how hot the coals underneath smoldered.

At Howlpaw's more somber tone, the chimaera-coated cat found no words for her, and he had been made aware of her tumultuous childhood. Torn between clans, divided between borders, and strewn away from loved ones' embraces. He couldn't claim that he could relate to it, or that he thought she deserved more clemency or leniency than the rest of the Skyclanners. He noticed how another unfamiliar feline from another clan whispered parting words to the molly, a kindness spun in the quiet strains of the gathering, before Burnpaw turned away. Chrys averted his gaze, letting out a snort of indignation. He then turned his head back to the grey tabby. "We're not naive or innocent or whatever. We're more of clan cats than you and your dung-eating kind will ever be."

( Talking with @Howlpaw and @SNAILPAW )
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Sights not good anymore? Then they probably didn’t see her facial expression change. What happened to their eyes? Hollow Tree couldn’t examine them because they closed shortly after meeting her figure. Even if she did see them, would she know what was wrong? Probably not. She was no medicine cat and barely even knew the basics. The Thunderclan warrior wants to pry but decides against it. Even if she knew what was wrong there was no chance she could help.

“Big news? I can’t wait to hear it.” she had her suspicions since Fireflypaw was near the other medicine cats. But she didn’t want to ruin the element of surprise. “I’m pretty sure Little Wolf is proud of you. No matter what.” Hollow Tree smiles back at the younger feline, “I’m glad you are feeling better. Whitecough is a wicked thing. Sunnyday had a touch of greencough but I believe he is feeling much better.” she thinks about telling them how Flamewhisker is expecting, but again, decides against it.

“Burnpaw and Moonpaw are doing good.” the warrior throws out randomly. They hadn’t asked but assumed they still cared about their siblings who remained in Thunderclan. Hollow Tree knew that Burnpaw’s words when they departed probably hurt but she still had hope that things would get better between them. Even if they were in different clans now. “The snow had us all trapped in our dens for a while. I hope you managed to stay warm during that blizzard.”​
[ you fall through the trees . tags ]​


// talking with @Fireflypaw
 
Firepaw had been searching since Windclan first arrived to the gathering, for two specific faces she prowls like a predator through the crowd amber eyes flitting from unfamiliar face to unfamiliar face, it's her first gathering after all she'd always been stuck doing chores in camp for every other moon of her life she was old enough to attend doing menial work most of the time because she was caught starting fights if it wasn't because she was constantly backtalking her mentor. But she's here now she earned the right, she fought for it she wouldn't let anyone deny her this. Other then Sootstar she supposes... Her tail lashes she grows irritable every moment she can't find the fleabitten foxheart, if she could sniff him out she would but the scent of so many clans together made that impossible it was overwhelming frankly but she will manage, there's worse things then being forced to smell the stinky pelts of their enemies.

She huffs and just before she moves to go look in another direction she sees him, a pelt of mismatched colors and eyes just as screwed up. She comes not padding over but running over a low growl already emanating in her chest, she hears his words as she comes over sees the fact Snailpaw is outnumbered as another unfamiliar she-cat sits near her former opponent. She wants nothing more then to slap that look off of Chrysalispaw's face and leave him with another scar but even she knows better then to break the peace like that. She stands protectively near Snailpaw forepaws right in front of his, her glare pointed blazingly at Chrysalispaw ❝Bah! clan cats huh? you're kind can't even win a battle fair and square you had to have some other bitch come and distract me to get a proper lick in! and your entire clan must be busy lickin' the claws of Riverclan thankin' them for saving your pathetic tails❞ she laughs it's not a kind sound, she steps closer to get in his face ❝How's your neck feelin' by the way? If ya don't mind your tongue i'm happy to give you another good bite right here❞ her paw would go up to touch her throat, to give him the proper idea of her intentions.

She steps back again, this time coming to sit besides Snailpaw refusing to just leave him to do whatever in starclans name he was trying to do to these oxhearts alone - annoy them to death or not. That glare on her face stays in tact as she waits for the Skyclan rats to speak.​

(Talking shit to @CHRYSALISPAW and interacting with @SNAILPAW and @Howlpaw by proxy)
( PLACE ME IN MY CASKET TONIGHT ; BECAUSE IM ALREADY DYING INSIDE )
 
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There, he seems him; and with the fleeting touch of his nose, it's almost ridiculous to think he'd ever thought he wouldn't. Blade and blemish free, too, thank the starts above. His flesh wounds were still old. He's sure he wouldve seen him, had he been there that day. A face always recognizable through its pale smiles, how could he not? A soul that he's pledged himself dedicated to, how could he not? But, irrationally, that fear still ran through him. That the wicked one Mallowlark serves would send him on such a mission; that one of Dawnglare's own neighbors would have had to tear through that face and leave a mark that never fully heals. Thank the stars above and earth below. Had it happened, he...

"No! No," quickly, he assures him, for it felt no short of a sin to leave him like this, frantic and worried, even if a part of him swooned at the gesture. He would have gone further, obvious, outright, but tonight's circumstances were not built for such a thing. Never once, had their groups been friendly; but tonight, oh, it's palpable, a bitter taste on his tongue. His attention was on Mallowlark– undoubtedly, undividedly. Or at least, he tried to make it so. But what prophet would he be if he could not feel the whisperings of his name, always and forever? Ever the beacon for attention, he would not shy away, no matter the nature in which his name was spoken. In any way, shape, or form, he thrived; but, pitiful, the way they spun tales in search of sympathy...

An ear flickers toward the sound of such words, and, all at once, he felt the importance of keeping their affections brief. Unfair, it was. Lower voice, now, "Th-the cursed... snow," he growls, and hardly feels any guilt. Even if he knew it necessary, even if he knew Mother was trying. Selfish, single-minded, all he could think about was their time together being hindered. Wasn't he wretched? He heaves a deep breath. "You too, then...?" and he's relieved. Cured, Mallowlark may be; but out alone in a blizzard for too long, it would have been quite easy for him to fall ill, yet again.

This tension is irritating, he wanted away with it. He didn't know whether Windclan's scent had him burning white-hot with anger, or with dedication. "I cannot linger so long... I-I have– a pupil," he tells him. His chin tilts upwards, hint of pride. "Puny... pitiful, for now, but with time..." Splendor beyond imagining, a face others would look on, and know that he was only trained by the greatest of the greats, god amongst men... A stain left on the world, if only so small. Not quite the point though, no.

Dawnglare clears his throat. "S-so I must accompany them... later, yes. Um–" He leans close, (not close enough,) breath on his lips. "N-next moonrise? Would you like to–" Flutter of breath as paws knead against the forest floor. Too, too excited just to catch up on their lost time, together...​

[ Talking to @MALLOWLARK <3 ]​
 
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The nonchalance from Tigerfrost, paired with ignorance. It’s a battle of intellect now. " or maybe you’re just a half-wit. " did these moorland cats truly live under rocks? Or was Tigerfrost just seizing a chance to call him a kittypet.

" oh attitude- now that’s rich, and what should be expected of a Windclanner’s behavior, eh? Tricks, lies, and clumsy politics. Perhaps a war during a blizzard? " he sniffs with a flick of his tail dismissively.

A sarcastically charged amused chuckle puffs from his jaws suddenly as Tigerfrost goes for verbal blow. Another round of his tongue tracing his grime wedged teeth. " A little sore, I appreciate the concern. You’re a real dear" he snarks back, flexing a corner of his jaw to tut idly. " How’s your dead friend? … I suspect they were named a traitor for dying " he counters despite the darkness seeping from his words, the fragile topic spilled into the cold.

A clan to get back to, he says. Thistleback bites down the urge to call it more of a graveyard.

" yes. Farewell indeed. " Thistleback watches the tabby’s spine, narrow eyed but absorbed in his thoughts. It was suspiciously, nice to have a good banter. Especially with someone who knew how to play the game, wasn’t so easily effected.

​

OOC INFO REF
  • — old married couple bantering with @TIGERFROST


  • MqZ0nzd.png
    ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
    thirty-three moons
    — Lead warrior of Skyclan
    — taken by
    Deersong 9.29.22
    — mentoring quillpaw
    — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
    — voice & accent
    — biography･ﾟ✧​
  • bVBPWus.png

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  • Haha
Reactions: Sheogorath
War weighin' on my heart but I can't fall
Oh how he wished Howling Wind had accompanied him to this...what had they called it again? A gathering? And Littlewolf was nowhere to be found at the function, lost within the sea of cats. Though his face did not portray it a fair amount of anxiety prickled beneath his pelt. How irritating. Silverlightning's long feathered tail snaps behind him as equally silver eyes pick over the multitude of cats within the clearing. He felt rather out of place surrounded by different scents he was still committing to memory and faces he did not recognize. A shallow sniff comes from his nares as he glances upon the cats placed atop a massive collection of rocks. Emberstar was there, so he could only assume that is where all the clan leaders sat. But who were they exactly? Perhaps he would find out in due time. Despite that, it seemed as if wounds littered the bodies of two clans while hunger created gaunt mummies out of another. Winter and fate in general was not very kind this year.
(Open to interactions)​
Seekin' shelter from the storm on this blank road​
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MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​
when riverclan arrives, they are given the same speech as always. and then she lets them free, watching over their conversations. it is rare for the river deputy to talk to much of anyone during the gatherings, always wanting to head home as soon as possible. to drench herself in the scent of the river, to lay among the reeds and forget about the world for a second. to simply be buck, not buckgait, the deputy. perhaps it is a foolish longing for the olden days, but buck has felt rather foolish these days.

she settles not too far from the skyclan deputy. buck had led the patrol to help skyclan, taking rear of the formation to help protect her cats further. they were already risking themselves for another clan. she's not something heroic, nor does she believe they should be saviors. but her hatred of the moor cats trumps any of these silly clan politics. no, her hatred goes into the blood. the river bred her of this anger for a reason. of this disdain for those scrawny rats.

her eyes are upon @orangeblossom in a mere second, taking in the appearance of the other with a commending hum. the other's injures are far worse than the river deputy's, but it would make sense. buck's are smaller, left untreated. she'd have wrung beesong had he even looked at her. another is speaking to her, and it dawns upon the earthen molly that this deputy is actually different from the other she had seen previous. but whatever. the other had seemed far more gentle and timid. she supposes that is why buck never paid any attention.

she waits a beat or two, when silence befalls the two. she must say something, she thinks. if anything, to see if riverclan had actually helped them in some meaningful way. her mouth parts, allowing for "i hope...skyclan is well. they are lucky to have you." to slip from her maw. and then she turns away. overseeing her cats again.

// interacting with @orangeblossom , ignoring @RACCOONSTRIPE bc girls forever
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He thinks it's a little funny, how this is only his first gathering, how he's stepped foot in a different clan's territory and slept within the confines of their camp before he's ever stepped foot in the clearing that holds the fourtrees.

Greenpaw doesn't think many others can say the same. He doesn't know if that means he's done things backwards - as if visiting a different camp was some sort of milestone meant to happen after one's first gathering, if it were to happen at all.

But, here he stands, bright eyes wide at the sight. More clan cats than he's ever seen before, new faces from new clans. He doesn't know what to do, or where to start. Maybe he should have asked Figpaw before he left? She's been to one of these before. Sheepcurl might have known too. He would follow after Fireflypaw but, well, he's one of StarClan's chosen, now.

He thinks it would be best to avoid WindClan's cats, and maybe ThunderClan's as well. Greenpaw doesn't know too much about ShadowClan, either, so he thinks RiverClan should be the place to start. Maybe those he'd met already were here? The apprentice looks around, searching for familiar faces in the crowd.

// looking for riverclanners, but open for any interactions!​
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Chrysalispaw's response was slightly less understanding than Howlpaw's. But she nodded her approval of his statement that they were more clan cats than the majority of the moorland clan.

Given how tense everything was it was a miracle they hadn't drawn over another WindClan cat until now. A black she-cat approaches and stands between Snailpaw and Chrysalispaw, her paws practically touching his, before claiming that it was SkyClan who were in the wrong and who could not win a battle fair. Howlpaw rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Oh, we made it an unfair fight?"Howlpaw narrowed her eyes at the WindClan apprentice. "Because luring our best warriors away from camp so you could steal from us and attack our sick and elderly as they rightfully defended our home was soooooo fair. Maybe next time WindClan can go crying to ShadowClan for help instead of us and then resorting to stealing when you don't get your way."

reacting to @Firepaw and @CHRYSALISPAW by proxy​
 
"Orangeblossom. SkyClan deputy." Ginger and white and covered in cobwebs, the deputy acknowledges Raccoonstripe and his probing with a small nod. Hopefully that would answer his question and serve as her own introduction - two birds with one pounce. Blazestar would introduce her to the Clans when he spoke, but it would do no harm to make mention of it in conversation like this. "I hope ThunderClan didn't suffer the blizzard too harshly?" If SkyClan had been snowed into their dens with the sheer amount of it, she's curious to see if that experience had been forest-wide or if their neighbours had been spared the worst of it. Another voice catches her attention, head swivelling to the side to make eye contact with -

"Buckgait." Orangeblossom's ears twitch towards her counterpart in hello, whose blue eyes skate over her form as clawed paws no doubt skate over the icy shallows of the river with just as much ease. They are lucky to have you. The sentiment makes her ears warm - her efforts had not gone unnoticed at home, but it was something else entirely to have another Clan's second-in-command speak with her about it. "We're recovering. Are your warriors well?"

​

✦ ooc ✦ info
  • // interacting with @RACCOONSTRIPE and @BUCKGAIT.

  • ✦ orangeblossom, deputy of skyclan
    — no apprentice.
    ✦ 25 moons, she/her
    ✦ fluffy white and ginger cat with brown eyes. torn left ear, scar on right foreleg. injured!
    ✦ bi, single. @ on discord for plots.
    ✦ "speech" — thoughts

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Where one rat roamed, another was sure to follow, like some sort of wretched malodor of company. A low rumble prowled just within ear's range, thunder's omen as clouds rolled upon the horizon, grey to overtake the blues and blacks. He hadn't the time to register it until the gnarly, hideous face of Firepaw decided to shove itself right in his eyesight, though the apprentice showed no sign of flinching or faintheartedness. She was the last cat he wanted to see here, but he figured that one of Snailpaw's snivelling little comrades would come running to their rescue. The Windclanners were like cockroaches, pests in flocks that always flew in tandem. They were just as annoying as flies, too.

"And I'm sure Windclan is patting themselves on the fucking back for the battle that they waged and lost. Skyclan would've beaten you, Riverclan or not. What happened to being better than a 'bunch of kittypets,' huh? Guess your dung-eating, skinny-boned clan can't even do that." The chimaera did not shy away from Firepaw's spittle, as though embers razed at down and skin, yet did not consume him entirely. Sharpened teeth revealed themselves underneath the drapes of cowls, a snarl crawling from Chrys' maw, for he would match any venom with his own practiced fangs. Flashes of claws stood slight against moonlight, yet a forewarning if Firepaw did not concede. They were blades within their sheath, grinning grim against the pallid, yet still primed nonetheless. "And I'm sure your pelt wouldn't mind another scar or two. It's looking awfully bare." Despite his threats, the truce hung heavy over his head like the moon itself, and he did not move before the louring gaze of his ancestors. As much as he desperately wanted to claw that stupid look off of the Windclanner's face.

At Howlpaw taking his defense, he only bobbed his head in agreement, stepping back if only to preserve some of his dignity from being in proximity to a moor-rat. He wouldn't want any of their stench on his pine-needle scent. Mismatched gaze glaring at Firepaw who stood at his height, never training his eyes away from the target, as if she would seemingly strike with embittered raged and make well on her empty promise. She was a firestarter, a trap waiting to go off - if he wanted to goad such a horrid beast into attacking first, he surely could. Unlike his temper, Firepaw's seemed to straggled off of her, seeping from pores and paws like the heat from a wildfire. But he saved such a scheme for another time. Chrys seemed to forgo his grievances with Snailpaw in the fray, but all of those Windclanners were the same to him. "Howlpaw's right. Maybe your kind should start looking for allies before the whole forest swallows your stupid little moor whole. But I'm sure your fragile pride wouldn't allow for that."

( Talking to @Firepaw and @Howlpaw , with @SNAILPAW in proxy )
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Situations changed faster than a flash of lightning on the Moorlands. The tabby had felt confident talking to the SkyClanners, able to deflect their insults and keep things (relatively) civil in spite of it, but then a snarling voice came from his left, followed by the hisses and spits of those he'd just been talking to. Snailpaw shot Firepaw a confused glance, the swirl of grey furs across their spine bristling as the volume began to rise. Their ears burned at the back-and-forth, talks of honor and fairness falling flat to the apprentice who had no interest in a serious discussion about morality. Right and wrong made no sense to them, dozens called Sootstar right and dozens called her wrong, it was clear that no living cat had the answers, so what was the point of wasting time with it? He flinched as Chrys mentioned pride - yes, pride was the answer for everything. Their seldom-used claws unsheathed for but a moment, their sapphire gaze cast out to the other gathering cats. They were gathering attention, but was anyone gonna step in? A fight was brewing, and the marbled tabby's throat felt dehydrated at the thought of getting caught in the middle of it.

"Woah woah hey-" They interjected, stepping forwards and using their fluffy body to get between Fire and the SkyClan apprentices. Their smile was uneasy, distracted by the heavy thumping in their dark ears, but it was important. If Firepaw got in trouble here, who knew what his militant clan would do to her? The fear of that was enough to get him to lift his head, randomly shifting his attention between WindClan and SkyClan. "This is a gathering, alright? Keep making threats and you'll get the wrong sort of attention from StarClan and the other clans alike! I don't want anyone to get stuck in apprentice duties for a moon so let's just... keep things civil, alright?" StarClan, their heart was beating out of their chest - is this what it meant to be a peacekeeper? They hated it, it was way too much pressure, but they still acted on instinct. "Call us dung-eaters all you want and we'll call you twoleg toys and we'll all have a grand old time and go home happy but let's just... stay away from the physical threats, alright? There's time for that later."

Preferably, there'd be no time for that at all. The SkyClan apprentices hadn't seemed that bad, at the very least, they were no different to how the WindClan ones acted at times. It sucked that everyone had to kill each other over what some leaders said, Snailpaw would try to avoid being there when the time came to see their lives expire. He swallowed a lump in his throat and offered a shaken grin, hoping their words had gotten through to the three, at least temporarily.

[ interacting with @Howlpaw , @Firepaw and @CHRYSALISPAW ]


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MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​
her attention is slow to move from the interacting riverclanners, letting the sights burn into her mind. "yes, my cats can handle a moor rat. if they couldn't, i wouldn't bother showing my face here." it's spoken in a light jest, but she is thankful that there had not been any major injuries sustained. nothing to worry about, at the least. they came home with marks and scrapes, something to let the skin sting for days. but nothing fatal. she is not entirely sure the same can be said for skyclan, it's already hard enough to keep up with her own. the woman's head dips at the mention of their recovery, a truly awful thing. "such desperate things, aren't they?" the moor cats seemed to be fairing worse and worse as the seasons pass. she wonders how long their star-blinded leader can keep her reign over them.

"i had my doubts of skyclan. i'm happy i was proven wrong. you have good warriors." buck admits to the sun-spotted deputy. the use of a kittypet, ones who can keep much stronger in the leaf-bare due to their extra food. once they are trained up, perhaps something to be considered. still, she is not sure if they could adapt to the river as they could to the area skyclan resides in. it does not allow for gentle learning,

// interacting with @orangeblossom
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Relief flooded through him, blood running cold and warm at once, encompassing every feeling. Immediately assured, his muscles relaxed, what tension had lived in his flesh before dissipating. Breath withheld escaped without the knowledge it was imprisoned, a common occurrence in this company. Even among a crowd, the lustre of seeing him did not lessen, nor did the silken touch of his voice, dulcet assurance.

How easily those words could leave him. Admittance, assurance... words of fondness that he thought whenever anything reminded him of Dawnglare. Seeing him made it all the more tempting for him to say it over and over and over, but he knew... he knew if he thought of it too much, he would succumb. That'd earn some glances, definitely! But he could not risk the poison... could not dare to even almost subject Dawnglare to any venom that such a gesture would attract. So he would tell him in his eyes, in the brightness of his smile, in the eagerness with which he nodded his head.

They were both held, both saved from a journey in the cold, both destined for this meeting. Nature really did favour them, he was sure of it! Attention stayed statuesque upon Dawnglare's face, the only cat in the world as far as he was concerned in that moment, as he spoke of his pupil. Brightness touched his gaze, lit it silver-touched. Someone to teach- and under Dawnglare, he was sure a SkyClan pupil would meet a better fate than Dandelionwish did. "Oh, that's so exciting!" he chimed, cheeks aching with how fervently he grinned. The happiness might just burst right out of his chest, a bloody bullet. Then, then- the question. A plan, made. And that plan he would never dare to deny. How could he dare to deny himself that glee?

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes." Surely Dawnglare did not think he would ever refrain! Even if there was something else planned- which there was not- he would flout it for them. Nothing could ever be more important. "I'll be there. Even if it snows again, I'll be there."

He never, ever, ever lied. He would be there, early if he could help it. Then- then no eyes would pry upon the, no-one would dare throw a questioning glance there way, and he would not have to be silent.

/ talking to @DAWNGLARE <3 ​
[ PENNED BY PIN ]​
 
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