THE NIGHT WILL HOLD US // windclan cats


"Yes, right from WindClan's territory. Freshly-killed... I'm sure hares are a delicacy in... this land." Sootstar's lip curls in discomfort, one thing she learned she hated after leaving the marshland. She hates water.

At the RiverClan patrol's paws was a peace offering disguised as a gift. Sootstar was not sorry for Weaselclaw, WindClan was not sorry for Weaselclaw, and the brown tabby was to be sorry alone. Yet... it was too early for her to truly begin to not care about her neighboring clans. Especially ones she reckoned would grow strong, Cicada never struck her as a weak tom... well- maybe he was? Weasel had apparently gotten him pretty good the tom had told her...

Still, had to be stronger than some of the other leaders that stepped forward... That Ember she-cat and... Bl... Blaze? Whatever the hell his name was.
She didn't want to be friends with RiverClan, she didn't want any friendly commitments to be made. She just wanted to ensure her throat wouldn't get slit in her sleep by a RiverClan ambush.

"Don't worry, you don't have to repay the favor. A gift." What could they possibly eat here anyways? Fish...? They sure smell like they do. The woman's ebony nose wrinkles.

With her is Coldpaw, Hare, and of course... Weasel.
Soot needed the former barn cat to apologize for his "wrongdoings", she didn't care if he meant it. She didn't care if he lied through his teeth, but he best make it damn convincing. Coldpaw and Hare were merely here as a backup in case anyone went south, and to show off that she grew in numbers too.

"So where is... Cicada...? My warrior, Weasel, has a few words to say to him. All very polite words I assure you, right Weasel?" She nudges him with her shoulder.

// @WEASEL @Coldpaw | Coldkill @HARE
RiverClan is free to post whenever, just be sure to let WindClan post before we get too ahead of ourselves c:


− ♱ ABOUT : the sun is rising high when he pads from his willow tree ; slipping past warriors who's faces twist in concern, their eyes lingering on his red, aching wounds as he carries directly towards the exit of camp. he'd left bone within camp walls, her presence within his borders a welcome reprieve from the assault on his bitter, feral mind. her scent ; heady with marsh and swampwater, familiar and unfamiliar in the same breath . . his mind soothed, if only fractionally. if only for a moment. she was shadowclan's medicine cat now and he knew from the moment she'd stepped paw on his land that she would be leaving soon. this time, she would be leaving for good. it burned in his chest, a violent thrash of anger and childish petulance towards the stars that had so recently given him immortality. the man awakes before her and for a moment, he basks in the silence. the comfort. he recalls being a kitten, pressed tight against the same body only then so much smaller after a quick chiding from hare whiskers or rust. his claws grow anxious despite the waves of serenity the rhythmic lulls of her chest brought in rest, muscles screaming for him to rise.

secure the rivers.

his warriors were instructed to patrol the shores in rotations, never far from where the water corrodes the rocks on the other side. the newly named cicadastar had only just crossed the bubbling river waves when he catches it : windclan. the smell is amongst the most notable of the clan's he'd encountered so far ; reeking strong of the beasts of horseplace and the grasses on which they grazed. the odor assaulted him at once, shocking through his nostrils and causing his muzzle to scrunch with distaste, lingering remnants of fury kindling red within his chest. the man was never adept at fighting − his strength lies in stealth, in strategy. he applies both now ; crouching amongst the river reed with orbital ears pinning back to his narrow skull, blending seamlessly with the environment he'd now grown accustomed to. he sees them along the river a way from beyond waving reeds, dark coat a mottle of shadow beyond the tall flora. a small patrol − unassuming, the blue smoke molly he'd shared a home with carrying with her motley crew of her own warriors. his lip twitches, snow - tipped paws moving silent amongst the soil, water - logged sand seeping between webbed toes as he weaves between the sprouting reed.

from his perch amongst the wavering flora he could see that they were relaxed ; not one of their warriors poised in hostility, aside from a very familiar, very pitiful looking brown tabby. for reasons fairly obvious, he'd not had a chance to get a good look at his attacker until now ; he's a wiry thing, narrow - faced and rodentlike with a height that could nearly rival his own. he looks shameful, and for a brief moment, cicadastar is smug ; the idiot had called him a rouge during his assault, taking advantage of his weakness after a ceremony amongst the stars. in front of their paws is a hare ; it's delicate body bent and broken, throat matted in blood. soot is speaking, then − voice loud and brimming with bravado, one of the smoke's ears flicking with distaste. ' yes, right from windclan's territory. freshly - killed... i'm sure hares are a delicacy in... this land. ' a gift. she confirms as much seconds later, speaking to the waters as if ears were listening. she was correct. claws flex against waterlogged soil, head lowering to peer through the stalks, shadows casting heavy over the sharp edges of his face. she claims it need not be repaid, but his lip curls. riverclan did not need handouts, but he would rather take the opportunity to see the tabby grovel.

all - too familiar petulance grips his chest and his gaze flits to the left, glancing over the riverwater and hopefully spotting a couple of his own warriors on their scheduled early morning patrol. he would give them a signal from his place upwind − come. quickly. the man moves closer, dripping curls drying quick in the beating greenleaf sun and he finally emerges from the grass he does so silently and with the intention to stun, a phantom born from a splay of river light and plant life.

" cicadastar. " it's an absent correction, accented vocals void of the emotion that had once lined it's odd slope. his bicolored features feature not even the ghost of expression ; purple - blue bags of exhaustion deepening the heavy arch of icewater luminaries, slitted pupils a sight to behold in his haggard state. he is the product of anxiety − of manic paranoia and now, a wounded pelt atop it. weasel was only the tipping of his teetering scale, freefall of nerves born from a culmination of war, loners and loss. he stands before the tabby -- weasel -- directly, still peering down his aquiline nose despite the way his head lowered slightly in visible exhaustion, " what do you have to say for yourself? moments after starclan spoke to me, made me leader. while i was weak . . " his tone in tinged with vitriol, chin tipping upward and tail lashing, " starclan called for an end to violence and you respond by attacking one of their chosen." he had claimed the rivers, but the stars had made him leader. the waves were his to reign, and he had the fallen at his back to prove it

icewater eyes flick back towards soot, head dipping slightly in brief acknowledgment, " the hare is appreciated. " it would feed his warriors, and for that, he would be thankful.

  • CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
    − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
    − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers

  • none.

Heavens to Betsy, Hare prays to whatever deities up there that this doesn't go south.

The news that Weasel had attacked another clan leader had shocked him. Why would he do such a thing? So quick to jump to hostility! And for what? Bragging rights? These cats just don't make a lick of sense.

Had their ma not taught 'em any better? If he'd tried that as a young'un... He'd get a good cuff around his ear for sure!

Hare's hind leg bounces in place, worrying with a piece of grass that's nearly shredded from his anxious chewing. He watches the RiverClan patrol with wide eyes. "One of our juiciest, Ah guarantee it," he murmurs after Sootstar. His stare cuts over to Weasel when the blue smoke urges him to apologize, his own expression willing the brown tabby to do so and respectfully. Cicada corrects Sootstar on his name; Cicadastar. Idly, Hare wonders if all clan leaders are taking up the suffix. He doesn't have time to ponder over it, however, as Cicadastar snarls towards Weasel. Although the vitriol is not directed towards him, Hare still flinches away from the tortie smoke. Stars, is he grateful to not be in Weasel's position right now.
Pumpkin appears beside Cicada, dwarfed by his side, but anger and fury bristled through her body like nothing else. “And the audacity to bring him here, present him in front of Cicada? He should be killed.” perhaps an overreaction, but shes pissed, beyond angry. Soot may have been a ‘friend’ back in the Marsh Group but she left to take her claim to the moor, and now she was letting her clan members attack her father! How dare she!

An apology would not be enough for Pumpkin. From now on, she holds a grudge like no other. Hatred, burning up her chest, blinding her heart. She attempts to brush her tail against Cicada’s legs before trying to press against them. She does not care that they brought a rabbit, it feels like a kick in the face. Hey! We let our cat attack your leader now we’re rubbing it in by giving you a hare and pretending how sorry we are! She sticks out her tongue. Losers.


Sootstar nearly falls onto her rump in bewilderment, truly convinced she had been the sole leader to have gotten StarClan's blessings. Well... surely he can't have the lives? No... those were a gift to me. Sootstar convinces herself for now.

A faux smile pulls up on her lips, "Oh really now? We're one of the same then Cicadastar, you speak to Sootstar now." A deep purr rumbles in her throat. Anyways...

She hates whatever feeling she's begun to harbor for this brown tom, but she can't help but open her maw. "To be fair Cicadastar, the tom before you was as good as a rogue before I graciously took him in. He was not there like we were for the great battle to see the stars, to hear their words to us. He most certainly was not there when you declared yourself RiverClan's leader either... He had no clue." Sootstar argues.

"He merely was trying to defend WindClan land, he had nothing to tell him you were Cicadastar... leader of RiverClan. Nothing to tell him that you were solely on the territory to speak to the stars." It was true after all until now the tiny she-cat also wondered why Cicada had been on their land in the first place.

Sootstar gives the driest look imaginable to Pumpkin, "And what would you rather have me do? Apologize for him? I'm not his mother. Not bother showing up at all? WindClan regrets what has happened, and Weasel is before you to apologize for his actions... very gracious and warrior-like of him! Yet you wish to sentence him to death?" She liked it, honestly. Not for Weasel of course... but if someone harmed her she'd want their heads too.

But Pumpkin held no authority here, and even if Cicadastar himself called for Weasel's execution she wouldn't have it. "Now, will he please be allowed to speak? Weasel." She beckons him to open his maw.

Cicadastar. Well, how was he supposed to know that big slinky tom had any sort of importance? He'd assumed the spider-legged tortoiseshell to be a rogue, a trespasser and meant to be driven from Sootstar's territory. He'd been surprised at her displeasure, her insistence Weasel catch a sizable hare and bring it to RiverClan as a peace offering.

But he dares not disobey his leader. Though he has never cared about pleasing another cat in his life, he does mind what Sootstar thinks of him, and the last thing he wants to do is mar her reputation or cause her to think less of him.

But is he sorry?

Weasel walks beside Sootstar, Hare, and Cold, his eyes glimmering with distrust as Cicadastar presents himself with a hiss. The tabby opens his mouth to speak, perhaps to even defend himself, but he stops as some brindled kitten begins firing insults his way and calling for his head.

He fixes her with a neutral look. If he had been anywhere else, doing anything else, he would have shredded her where she stood. Though it looked like someone else had already gotten the pleasure.

Sootstar implores Weasel to speak after vouching for him. He dips his head to her and turns his dry, passive expression onto Cicadastar. "Of course, I regret it." He does regret the attack, but only because he displeased Sootstar and caused trouble for her. He didn't give a damn for the fish-scented pelts surrounding them now. "If I had known you were a leader on a peace mission..." He shrugs. He isn't much of a wordsman.

He shoves the hare forward. "Sootstar speaks the truth. I was a simple loner before being accepted into WindClan. To me, a RiverClan cat is a ShadowClan cat is a rogue." His tone is plain. He could not lie even if he wanted to; it would show all over his face, and he would not shame his leader further. "The blame is mine. I'm sorry."

He flicks his ears before giving his chest a good lick. Cicadastar had caught him good there. Perhaps if he reminded the RiverClan leader that it had been more of a fair fight than a beating, he'd be more inclined to send them on their way without anything further.



Frost would be the next to appear, the blue tabby's gazd narrowing as she listened to the words that came from the maws of everyone there and then her tail twitched slightly to take a stand near her leader. Sure, she might of not been a fan of Cicadastar and his kind coming in and claimin g this as their land, but she grew to understand them, and watched how Cicadastar was with his clan so she let out a soft sigh out. "Hold on" Frost's smooth words came out as she kept a calmness to her, tilting her head in confusion to the other as she waited to get the attention of the other.

Fear clawed in her stomach, as she could tell already that this other leader thinks of herself as above their own leader from her tone, as if to hide something from everyone and her curled ears folded onto her skull, looking up towards Cicadastar as to ask for permission to continue before fixating back on the others. "You say he was a rogue and had not know of Cicadastar being Riverclan's leader,and yet you are a leader who knew Cicadastar despite him not being there and you presumably being there, why didn't you inform him of the other leaders?" she questioned, as it did not make sense to her that the excuse Sootstar was giving was "Oh he didn't know" but shouldn't he of? Sootstar could've said something but she didn't.

"I mean, why would you hold information as important as that from those who weren't there? That doesn't make sense" The young she-cat placed bluntly before flashing a apolitical look towards Cicadastar, but she wanted to defend her leader, that's what they're supposed to do. "I mean no offense, you come here and you say this thinking we'd be fish-brained enough to accept it. Even if he was a rogue he still attackec a leader so why haven't you punish him yet?" she asked once more, dreading the outlash she'll get but, it needed to be said, Cicadastar can punish her later for it, but she was defending her leader.

Her gaze drifted towards Weasel who would make his apologies to their leader but those questions she asked still needed to be answer as none of this would make sense to her, she didn't tell him? His words confirmed what she said but still a slight disappointment ease into her. "Not your fault your leader was fishbrained enough to not tell you" she stated a bit bluntly towards Weasel. It was the truth though.


All the noise has drew the dark woman to the crowd of cats that are seemingly having an argument. Her burning gaze narrows as the scent of the other felines. It doesn't match that of Riverclan but that of those new to the moors and under Soot's leadership. It's insufferable to think of her as a leader but she says nothing as she stalks up with her tail hanging low. She came here not too long ago and has seen Cica's wounds. Wondering what happened to him and hearing the tale she doesn't understand why these Windclanners are here. They should be shut out and even more so the one whom has done the offense punished for his wrong doings. Pale paws step lightly across the reed covered ground and she eyes them all for a moment. She doesn't say anything and frankly she doesn't have to. All she does is take her stance and her place almost beside Cicadastar.

Her eyes bore into the one named Weasel, the one that thought himself fit enough to dig his claws into someone important to her. That is almost a death sentence and her claws slowly pull from their sheaths. The words of Hare Whisker murmur in the back of her mind that her days of fighting, tearing claws through flesh and protecting with viciousness are over. But she can not let this stand. She wants to maul him, tear her claws through his skin and feel his flesh rip. Spilling his blood just as he spilled Cicada's. It's there in her eyes and she pulls in a slow breath before releasing it. What will the punishment if there is any at all?


With Weasel's words she is satisfied, hopefully, that is enough for Cicadastar to keep a friendly situation with WindClan. She typically does not care about other cats' opinions of her (or in this case, her clan) but she was not a fool. WindClan may be growing, but they were still a new clan. Prone to weaknesses and still for the most part unorganized despite Sootstar's best efforts.

It felt like they were finally getting somewhere... an attack from any of the clans right now and she'd have to restart her work.

Sootstar doesn't know if it's enough for Cicadastar, as before the lanky tom gets a chance to speak one of his warriors opens her maw. She let the suggestion of killing Weasel slide once, but she was sick and tired of cats who lacked authority speaking to her in such an ill-mannered way. Her warriors came here and have done nothing but show kindness to RiverClan... Weasel may have attacked Cicadastar unknowingly, but they were trying to make right for it... and brought a gift! What else did this fish-eating clan want them to do?

"He's aware of the other clans and the other leaders... but believe it or not WindClan does not spend their days whispering about other clans. To be frank as a new clan, we have better things to worry about. I'm sure you can relate?" She looks to Cicadastar for her last sentence, an invisible brow raised. "I'm busy leading a clan that is not RiverClan. I am busy making WindClan, WindClan. I am busy caring and teaching my own, WindClan's ways, RiverClan cannot possibly blame me for not sitting down during this busy time to give my cats an in-depth history lesson?!" Ridiculous.

"How would you know he hasn't been punished?" Again she shoots back, "You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about. It's not RiverClan's business how I punish my own warriors." She hadn't punished Weasel... not that they would know.. but she believed this humiliation and the wounds from Cicadastar was punishment enough.

At last Sootstar thought she could move on and hear Cicadastar out, but one last time the young RiverClanner talks. Fish-brained she calls Sootstar.
The disrespect. The audacity. You can see the fire light up in her eyes, "Are these the young cats of your clan, Cicadastar? Do they insult and demand execution for every clan that comes by wanting to do right? Is this the generation you'll allow to succeed you?" Her fur wildly bristles, it takes every ounce of restraint not to give these brats a lesson of her own. Such behavior would not fly in her clan...

To top things out, a familiar cat moves to stand at Cicadastar's side.
Things just got better and better, didn't they? "What are you doing here? Aren't you ShadowClan?" She didn't want ShadowClan in business that wasn't theirs, and she's never gotten along with Bone. "Sibling quarrel? Or did you finally learn how to step out from your sister's shadow?" Every former marsh-cat knew of Bone's undying loyalty to her sister. The two could be inseparable sometimes...

Sootstar straightens her back and sticks her tail in the air. One glance is given to her clan-mates, hold your ground. She then looks to Cicadastar, desperately trying to read him.


it's a long way forward, so trust in me

Ash has been crouched in the nearby reeds for a few minutes now, watching heated exchanges with bated breath. She is not supposed to be here, she knows that much, so the tiny orange kitten stays hidden, watches quietly.

RiverClan is mad at WindClan. Which makes sense because a WindClan guy hurt Cicadastar. Really, really hurt him. The memory makes Ash shiver a little-- Cicadastar bloody and snarling, barely standing on his own four paws. Secure the borders, he'd hissed, close to keeling over.

Pumpkin says to kill the guy and Frost says that Sootstar is a fish-brain (a fish-brain!!), and Sootstar looks so mad. Ash's glass-green eyes go wide as Sootstar snaps her retorts, and then--

"Are these the young cats of your clan, Cicadastar?"

Spat with so much venom and Ash's little body runs hot with defensive anger. Before she can think twice (or even once, really) she's catapulting out of the reeds, puffed up as big as she can be (which is not very big; she's barely three moons old). The little orange tabby tumbles to a stop near Frost's feet and hisses at Sootstar.

The other Riverclanners are probably used to Ash popping up in places she really shouldn't be. The WindClanners might be, uh. A little more taken aback.

"Don't talk to Cicadastar like that!" the tiny furball yells. "Riverclan is the best! And he was just trying to go on a walk so you shouldn't have hurt him! Say sorry!"

She's never been so angry in her (very short) life. Cicadastar is their leader and he is a good one.

It's a good thing I'm here to defend him
, Ash thinks sagely, nodding to herself.

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

  • i'm sure ash is exactly what everyone needed in this thread
  • - three moons old
    - will bite you
    - will put nettles in your nest
    - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
    - she's trying her best, i swear
buck holds her ground for most of this spat, watching and waiting. the return of cicada was stressful, his wounds and his decree of hatred towards her. but still, there are moor cats in her land, and more importantly, moor wounds on a river cat. that alone disgusts her enough to rear an earthen head in the direction of the tall grasses leader. for someone out of territory, carrying the attacker in toe, she is far too arrogant. the position that soot is in should teach her some humility.

"let a cat from the river speak. i am not with cicada or his cats, but I've lived here far before them." a lavender gaze is heavy upon the form of soot, who is desperate in trying to force blame upon riverclan warriors. she seems to forget why she was here in the first place. "you hand over a simple hare and have a half-hearted apology at best. you represent this cat as a leader, yet you are acting like some impotent kit." the voice of the river-born is strong and loud. never in her life would she think of defending these land-stealers, but they're starting to smell like the river and it's messing with her head.

"no cat here demands his execution, but a true punishment to fit his crime. i think you forget that attacking a leader does not bring light consequences." the kits here are not helping, buck is far too aware, but their concerns and anger is just. these cats look up to and require for cicada to be strong enough to lead them. these clan leaders are status symbols, idols to look to for confidence. when one is injured, the clan goes into a frenzy. like bees from the hive. the fisher does not respect cicada or soot enough for them to govern her, but she can see their importance to these cats.

the dark buckskin molly looks towards cicada, trying to force a silence amongst the younger crowd of the river to allow him to speak.



He was quickly growing impatient with these Riverclan cats. Sootstar had brought them all here to show Cicada that Weasels 'accident' had no gone unnoticed or unattended, and yet all he heard from the cats around him was 'its not enough!'.

"We've already paraded him out here before you all to apologize- what more would you have us do? Starve him? Drown him in your river? Have him grovel at Cicadastars feet for forgiveness?" asked the young tom, yellow eyes narrowed as they shifted among the other felines. "You all act as if he conspired to murder your leader and now deserves some grand punishment, but really, how often are cats of other clans seen in each others territory? Almost never. Weasel thought he was just running off another rogue or kittypet, not a clan leader."

Despite the bluntness of his words, he did his best to keep his tone borderline even. Sootstar had wanted a note of civility to this encounter, and he was doing his best not to let his annoyance seep through and to instead present a sound case. Of course they were mad- the Windclan cats would be pissed if the roles were reversed- but so far none of the riverclan cats had suggested anything other then voicing their opinions that a simple apology wasn't enough. If that was the case, then it would be helpful for someone to lay down some actual expectations for what th ey wanted out of this. Otherwise, this was just going to devolve into an argument.

windclan apprentice - male - 10 months - bisexual - polyamorous - single - a tall, muscular tabby with dark grey fur
( ) caraway might not be entirely officially apart of riverclan but they’ve been hanging around the camp and cats long enough to comprehend their idea of borders and laws. these cats are touchy and defensive, clearly jumpy from their brush at war. this squabble at the border is something they recognize will not fade quickly. as slender smoke paws tap anxiously after her more outspoken friend, caraway cringes at the sheer size of the patrol who have gathered around their leader. so many young cats in a situation which they are entirely not helpful. a sigh comes from their chest as they arrive, moving to curl their tail around ash and nudge frost. “cicadastar is an adult. he can handle himself. let’s trust the leader to make his decisions, okay? you’re very brave and i appreciate it.” this is last part is spoken at ash as caraway attempts to steer the kid back behind the others and out of the conversation. a small glance at buck conveys pride and gratitude in one, and they’ll move backwards, hoping cicada will say something.

He'd thought Sootstar's apology has been very kind, truly. With the way Cicadastar had reacted to the sudden attack— apparently at the claws of Weasel— the tom needed something to ease his mind.

So he doesn't really know what to think when the youth of the group pipe up, claiming that the apology isn't good enough. He blinks in bewilderment at the fiery pelt of pumpkin, her declaration a bit much, if you ask him. A strange laugh bubbles in his throat, trying to pass it off as a joke for her sake. "Now, hold on—"

Frost is the next to speak, face twisted in pointed disdain towards Windclan's leader. It takes awhile for him to process her words, just because none of them made much sense to him. "Uhh... I mean, I didn't know about Sootstar until like, right now? I don't think it's crazy to say that maybe he didn't know." he offers in reply, offering a friendly blink to the one called Weasel. Not cool to attack Cicada and stuff but, surely he didn't deserve all of this? She's talking as if Sootstar should've announced to everyone the exact appearance of every leader, which, seems kinda boring. He wouldn't do that, at least.

The leader's next words are sharp, to his surprise, somewhat mimicking some of his own thoughts. How would you know he hasn't been punished? At this, he tilts his head towards his clanmates. She sorta had a point—

He can only blink in bewilderment as Ash suddenly appears at very much a bad time. Was no one keeping an eye on her at camp? As Buck speaks up, he feels an ounce of relief, only for it to fall into confusion as she speaks further contradictions. No cat here demands his execution. "Uh, didn't Pumpkin, though?" Had he missed something?

He finds himself agreeing with Caraway, somewhat. "Um... yeah, let's- let's calm down everyone," he gently encourages, pointedly looking at the small form of Ash, who really shouldn't even be here. At least, he doesn't think so. "I wanna support Cicada too, but uh... Not too sure if this is the way to do it," he adds, weary gaze flickering across the Windclan cats.

− ♱ ABOUT : it all happens too fast for him to truly keep up. pumpkin is at his side in a heartbeat, and he momentarily worries for her presence there — at that moment he was alone otherwise, with a band of cats that heavily outweighed him alone before the small windclan leader. he is just abt to tell her he can handle it when she speaks up ; he should be killed! the smoke freezes, a second of cold chill running down the length of his spine. a threat, “ now, there’s no reason f — “ he begins, and then . . she sticks her tongue out towards the woman. he blinks incredulously at the reaction, the crumpled gift of hare lying broken and cold in front of them, “ pumpkin. we don’t speak that way, certainly not towards a leader. “ through clenched teeth did he whisper, an orbital ear coming to twitch irritably at his skull. he loved her dearly, but the disrespect in the face of a peace offering was not to be had. not in front of him, anyway.

his eyes flick back towards soot as she begins, pressing weasel forward to apologize after scathing the calico at his side. it was deserved, and he would only set his mouth in a grim line in response. weasel apologizes, and while he looks as though he’d rather have ripped his ears clean from his head, it was an apology. the smoke settled his icy luminaries on him for a pregnant moment, beats passing as he scans the chocolate felidae’s face. finally, he head dips, maw opening and . . frost arrives. hold on, comes in lieu of a simple acceptance, the smoke himself looking back up, confusion clear on his bicolored expression. she glances at him, searching his eyes for something and he assumes she found it, as she looks away to continue despite the bewilderment he bore. it’s only when she continues speaking that cicadastar straightens up, snapping his head over to the side, “ we haven’t had time for a meet - n - greet for obvious reasons, it’s not her responsibility. i was only just on my way back from meeting with the stars, “ he shouldn’t have to defend them, but he wanted them gone and a fight would only prolong the amount of time they spent on his shores. the irritation the seeps into his voice is born from exhaustion and a budding migraine, jaw tense and neck aching with it ; he would talk to them when they returned to camp.

then ash appears.

ENOUGH ! “ it’s snarled, loud and crashing, that much heavier with his odd accent, “ i have had it with the disrespect you’ve shown here today. everyone under twelve moons return to camp IMMEDIATELY and wait by the willow for me to return. “ should they not be lined up by the ancient tree when he got back . . claws unsheathing and digging into the waterlogged soil beneath him, agitation clear in the rigid lines of his body, “ mahi, please escort them back. see that ash stays there. ” with a paw still gentle despite his anger he would attempt to hook the kitten around the chest and pull her back away from the windclanners just a tad, his tail coming up alongside her for protection as soot spits something about their youth. his head snaps up, fiery blue eyes zeroing in on the cold smoke, “ they are young, sootstar, they will be dealt with. they’re only looking to defend their leader. something that sounds familiar, yes? “ he’d come back so bloodied and broken he’d frightened some of them in his state, “ i’m sure you understand. i hate to imagine how your cats would respond should you have come back from the stone in such a state. “ his gaze flicks towards weasel pointedly, ears coming to slide back against the sleek curls of his head.

green eyes venture past him, then. towards the bicolored woman behind him, her claws already unsheathed and posture tight upon arrival. his lip curls, a paw coming out to step aside, blocking her pointedly from the windclan leader’s view. it was none of the moorlanders business why she was there, and any further word together would incite violence he knew, “ your hare is appreciated, ” words are repeated once more, this time with an acidic emphasis, “ and apology heard. i trust you punished him well enough. you will have no issue with riverclan. “ he turns, the thick curl of his tail lashing behind him as he makes his way towards the reed. he would not leave — not until the windclan patrol was far gone from sight, but out in the open he would not stay. he had to let off steam, lest he cuff the ears of the clans youth himself. the rabbit lie still on the ground, collecting blood ; he hoped one of those gathered would take it. he had no appetite, “ you’re all dismissed.

  • out !!
  • CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
    − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
    − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers

  • none.



My good StarClan?! This was atrocious, unbearable, she thought things may grow hostile but certainly not in this manner. Despite her attention turning back to Cicadastar alone, she is confronted by a couple more cats, yet again one was merely a child, and another... wasn't even RiverClan?!

Her blood boils, she's at her breaking point. "Who the hell are you to even show your presence in this situation?! Let alone tell me how I should and should not act as a leader. What do you think you know about leading a clan when you, yourself are not even a part of one?" She spats, showing her fangs in a defensive manner. "Do not insert yourself on business that is not yours. At least that one kept her mouth shut." A head bob goes in the direction of Bone, another outsider to this situation.

Sootstar places the tip of her tail on Coldpaw's shoulders, he had his head screwed on better than most cats here yet he was half their age she believes! At least not long after his words Cicadastar breaks his silence.

"Young?" She scoffs, "My three moon old kits have better manners. But I know you, I trust you speak true that it will be handled." Familiar? It was... but this time around his clan-mates knew who they were dealing with... it had not been the same Weasel's way. Sootstar is not inclined enough to argue and ultimately, nods, partially understanding.

"Yes, he's been punished adequately. You can rest easy with that Cicadastar." She speaks truthfully, fully believing that this... scene here was plenty enough punishment. "If RiverClan has no issues with us, I assure you will have no issues with WindClan then, Cicadastar."

"Enjoy the rabbit, and may StarClan light your clan's path." With a dip of her head she looks at her warriors, her expressions immediately changing to something that screamed "you fucking kidding me?!". But all was over, they could go home.

"Cicadastar is a good tom, but it's clear to me that RiverClan is a mess. A ShadowClanner, a rogue, and kits in his business all at once? What a show." The blue molly begins to sneer when they are far out of the ears of any lingering RiverClan cats. With her patrol, they eventually vanish over the rolling hills.