Take your hand, my dear, and place them both in mine - Joiner?

[sweetrise.]

He had done it! He had escaped!

The tall lanky oriental was nearly skipping as he weaseled his way out of a cracked window, and for the first time hit the grass. His toes stretched and dug into it, and with the sound of a noise nearby, he ran. He ran as fast as he could, and in an easy bound, leaped to the top of the fence, before springing off to the other side and continuing his burst of speed.

Oh, he was free!

The oriental point would not stop either, not wanting to be caught by more twolegs or his own. He loved them, he did, but he no longer enjoyed to boring life. There was a cycle of sleep, eat, love, rinse and repeat, and he was honestly growing bored. There was no freedom, chittering at squirrels, mouse drooling at the idea of eating them, other felines just out of reach, and barely able to talk to them.

Now, finally, he could do what he wanted!

He ran as long as he could, until finally he felt he had reached the separation of the twoleg place, to a forest. Tall trees towered above him, and the world of freedom lay before him. His narrow helm would turn to look over his shoulder, blinking slowly, before flicking his tail in what seemed to be a wave goodbye before bounding into the forest.

A red collar lay upon his neck, and for a moment of rest, he tried to pry it off, his front paw scratching gently at it, and then reaching in to try to pry it off to no avail. He scratched it up rougher, but that seemed to be the most he could do. He'd figure it out, he felt the desire to just keep going.

But instead of continuing on the ground, the limber tom would pull himself up into the trees. He wouldn't climb super high, but just enough for him to feel if his twolegs came to look for him, he wouldn't be leaving any trail behind.

He'd get to what he felt was sturdy branches, testing the branches, before moving through them. His heart raced, adrenaline coursing through him, excitement flooding any feelings of fear as he felt confident enough to keep moving through the branches, slowly lowering himself through them and closer to the ground.

He wouldn't need to for long, a snapping of a branch, and he felt his body plummet, limbs stretching for a hold of anything as a yowl ripped from the boys lungs.

Not to make matters worse, he didn't realize that he had also invaded other cats territory.

 

[Alderfrost]

Alderfrost’s ears pricked as a crashing sound echoed through the trees. “What the hell?” she muttered.

Alderfrost crept towards the noise, hackles high. She was ready for a fight if there a need for one. Alderfrost’s ginger fur prickled as she smelled a scent similar to that of the daylight warriors’.

With a pang of doubt, she realized she’d been feeling tired these past days. Was it the sickness? Was she being stupid, patrolling like this?

Once she saw the source of the sound- a strange tom in a pile of shattered wood, she padded cautiously forward. “Who are you?” she demanded. “Where have you come from? Why are you here?”​

 

[Orangestar]

ORANGEBLOSSOM — tags​

A yowl splits the air. Among the roots of a tree several trunks away from the border, Orangeblossom flinches; and then hisses with annoyance when the bird she's been tracking takes flight in a startled flurry of feathers. She straightens with a small grunt of effort, casting her eyes around for @eveningpaw who would no doubt be close by, and abandons her hunt. Thank StarClan it's the first sunrises of leaf-fall, when the weather is still pleasantly warm and prey is plentiful.

A more familiar voice reaches her, the deputy making a small noise of consideration as she recognises Alderfrost demanding this stranger (kittypet, her mind supplies, attention immediately on the red collar loose around this stranger's neck) tell her his name and why he's crashing from the canopy on their land. She frowns for a moment, certain she'd had patrols sent out. With the important questions out of the way Orangeblossom decides to loom behind the other molly, expression deepening into the usual scowl.

​

 

[CHALK]

⭒✧ The staggered crack of branches drew his attention like the tug of a tether, his pale neck snaking to catch sight of the tumbling cat. Chalk bounded to Orangeblossom's side as the deputy arrived at the commotion. He said nothing for a moment, sober look mirroring his clanmates', Alderfrost speaking the questions for him.

This stranger was either ignorant or confident to have scaled the pines and continued past the border. Once, Chalk might have assumed the latter but with so many cats- some from their own ranks- wandering the lines without care he wasn't sure. It coaxed a sigh, barbed with newfound weariness, from him. Freshly weathered crimson, marred with scratches caught the daylight warrior's eye. "Got into a tussle, or were you trying to take it off?" He gestured a fawn paw bluntly to the collar, the tense atmosphere uprooting his tact. ​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[sweetrise.]

His large head shook gently, knocking some wood and it's flecks of dust the branch left behind from his head. He barely had time to push himself to his paws, before a cat approached. She demanded many questions, and soon enough, another lady, and a gentleman.

But the red one, she'd be addressed first, his paws guiding him half a step backwards, his front leaned down, and a paw to his chest, it was a very cheesy looking bow towards the others. Though he felt his hind leg pained as he did so, he would ignore it quickly.

"My name is Sweets. I am sure it's a nickname of some sort but alas, my memory always seems to fail me." His pale coloured head shook sadly. "I have come and escaped the wretched grip of my twolegs handlers, their nasty pebbles no longer enough to deal with! Imagine- bright lights flashing in your face, random hands grabbing and checking the lengths of your frame! Forced to sit still!" A dramatic scoff came from him, his words had a lot of emotion put into them, and the dramatics emphasized. And honestly it barely scratched the surface of what he had to deal with. "And then! We come home, and they pay me no mind! Disgusting pebbles in my bowl, I'm forced to feel like I'm breaking my teeth! Water spritzing, and locked in a kennel to sleep in! I had no freedom! I had no sights of any other cats!"

No one asked for his story, but he gave it anyways. It should be enough to explain the questions the red cat had asked. "And now, I am before you guys, fallen from a tree, only to face beautiful ladies and a handsome gentleman."

Now, to address the male, a grin spread across his face. "It was a pain to try to escape this collar, it feels as if I am an object, owned, instead of a friend by these two leg walkers. I am escaping this life behind me, to be a free man!"

 

[SLATESNARL]

The wail that echoed through the pines was enough to draw any cat over, including Slate who had been out on a hunt. He had reaped a single mouse from his labor so far, begrudgingly leaving the flesh untorn as the others would turn on him like a pack of wolves if he ate before the elders and queens. He didn't need that drama in his life, not when it was hard enough to live in SkyClan sometimes with the twoleg-sympathizers and all.

Speaking of twolegs and kittypets, a strange collar-bearing tom stood upon SkyClan turf, looking as if he were scrambling to recover from a fall from the branches above. Slate was nearly ready to launch himself at this trespasser and teach him a lesson, fiery eyes narrowed and haunches raising, until the tom confirmed that he had meant to escape his twolegs.

Slightly cocking a brow, the lead warrior lowers his defenses and casts a questioning look upon the gangly Oriental. Something was rather grating about the theatrical way he spoke, but it seemed that this tom at least had the sense to make a getaway from the grimy claws of the bipedals and the bone-dry pellets that they fed them. "Twolegs will never be your friends." Slate grunted with a twitch of a shredded ear. No matter what delusions you may be taught to believe, Slate was tempted to add, but held his tongue for now.

He stares at the unsightly accessory dangling around Sweets' neck and has half a mind to rip it off free of charge, but Slate doesn't want to waste any energy unnecessarily, especially on some random cat. "You're free now, but you're standin' on SkyClan territory." He wasn't going to call him by his name, "Sweets". It would feel too odd upon his tongue to be addressing an utter stranger as a term of endearment. "If you've got no business being here, you'd better get movin'." Slate warns, tilting his chin upward, expecting him to make a decision. The Maine Coon doesn't outright offer the newcomer admittance into SkyClan, unlike some; the clan was recovering from illness and he wasn't keen on straining their resources even further.

✰ INFO

• 
  
• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[Foxfire]

Oh, this trespasser was fun! His theatrics were a wonderful change from the usual, boring interloper looking for a home. She is glad she switched from attack mode to watch and see what happens. He spins a horrible, ghastly story of living with twolegs, forced to eat pebbles and shoved into cages, spritzed with water and paid no mind... Oh, the torture!

She too has experienced the twolegs who poke and prod, look in her mouth and shine light in her eyes. Visits to them were uncommon, and most of the time she was free to wander the twoleg nest and its yard. It seems this stranger was unlucky with the twolegs he had been picked by.

And like he says, he stands before them now, fallen from a tree, only to be faced with lovely ladies and a handsome.....Gentleman isn't the word she would use for Slate, but he tried!

"I like this one. He's very dramatic." She says with a grin. "Can we keep him?" ​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Cherrypaw hovers at Slate's side. Her ears barely scrape the height of his elbow, and perhaps because of the day's failures she wears a similarly flinty expression. At least, she tries to—it seems to be difficult for the girl to keep the smug arrogance out of her features, even when imitating her no-nonsense mentor. It manifests this time in a small entertained smile, coaxed through her facade like roots worming through the cracks in a boulder. She's never heard anyone talk like that, and it's as amusing as it is slightly embarrassing: a prime target for whispered mockery, or even just a stone's thrown to the face. Still, he's tall and sleek-looking, with a dazzling smile. The apprentice tilts her head, as if to get a better look at him through his riot of words.

Foxfire barks something about liking him, and while Cherrypaw isn't really in the mood to agree, she does. Dramatic. Kittypets were more often than not trespassers, probably because their noses were too blunted from all the twoleg scents to even smell the scent markers, and they were at most passable hunters and laughable fighters. Cherrypaw had only caught nothing today because—because today was just a bad day, and everyone had those. She'd caught heaps of prey before this, which no kittypet could ever say. "Twolegs made you eat rocks, Sweets?" she marvels, giggling. "How in StarClan are you even alive?" She supposes Slate is right on this account then: twolegs really couldn't be befriended, at least not by this tom.​

 

[CHALK]

⭒✧ The theatrical story that spilt from Sweets did little to shift Chalk’s expression but within his mind the daylight warrior was torn between amusement and irritation. It was far from a concise explanation. Much of what the stranger offered sounded like his experience in the Shelter, which softened a little of his apprehension. The compliments were a little- dramatic as Foxfire put it.

Chalk tipped his nose in mute sympathy as the oriental answered his question. Slate's authoritative tone kept him from inquiring further, the lead warrior setting the foundation of the interaction. It was safe and straightforward but he couldn't help a twinge of disinterest at the lack of curiosity shown. They could learn from this cat. The clan's safety came first, he reminded himself.

Cherrypaw's bright voice forced the tom to recentre and reconsider the newcomer's tall tale. Eating rocks? Perhaps the stale kibble most kittypets ate? Taking a step from his place in the back of the patrol, Chalk strayed a little closer to the apprentice. "I don't think they were literal rocks- right?" Trace laughter laminated his words but one tufted ear remained knocked back in uncertainty.
​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[sweetrise.]

The black Tom that approached after his theatrical movements was quite the grump, wasn't he? "I am indeed free of their wretched grasp. But now on Skyclan territory? Is it like your yard? I see no gates separating this land, So I see how accidental it is. I can make business if that's what you want. I can assist you guys, in trade of taking off my collar, I will be in Skyclans debt eternally." He offered, a grin on his face. He knew it seemed an unfair trade, but he also knew he didn't have the experience of a wild cat. Trapped in a house, he knew sleep, twolegs harassment, and dry kibble. There was no fun or entertainment.

A lovely female licked in fire watched with interested eyes, and insisted on keeping him. He was not a pet, not anymore. But it made the male laugh, with his held held back high. "Keep me you say?" Interesting wording, but he did quite enjoy the company.

Now, there were even more, and something about the attention and interest he got from the entertainment he provided made his heart flutter in joy. It wasn't like the twoleg shows he was brought to, taken advantage for his beauty. The grin remained on the orientals features. "Well, they were about as nasty as licking a rock, unfortunately." He gestured to one nearby before shaking his helm.