The Pied Piper's assistant | pre-gathering chatter

[Flamewhisker]

'Hey Thunderclanner'

A kind trill interrupted her thoughts about the Riverclan tom. Her attention turned to face the oncoming Skyclanner, and she smiled politely in his direction. She wasn't sure of his name, but he did appear familiar. He introduces himself as Auburnflame...it seemed they shared similar names. "My name is Flamewhisker." she responded, flicking her own tail around her front paws. He sits beside her, and she is taken off guard by his next words. He thanks her for what she had done...giving the advantage to Skyclan. She feels her muscles stiffen, and she slowly turns her pupils to carefully scan the area. There was no doubt that Windclan probably assumed Thunderclan had warned them, but the last thing she wanted to do was give out concrete evidence.

When she assumed the coast was clear, the lead warrior would carefully dip her head in a slight nod, rather than verbally express acknowledgment. She didn't want to come of as rude, but she also did not wish to bring more danger to her clan. "How is Skyclan fairing?"

//
responding to @Auburnflame
​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Raccoonstripe enters the oak-ringed clearing alongside Nightbird, trailing Wolfwind and Flamewhisker. The other five Clans in the forest are slowly beginning to leave their Clanmates to mingle with others, though the tabby catches numerous angry glances between SkyClanners and WindClanners. He says nothing to either Clan, though he grimaces when one of the kittypet warriors saunters up to Flamewhisker and thanks her for their contribution to their survival. Mousebrains. He quickly looks away, hoping no one has heard the cinnamon fool.

He sees Wolfwind dart for Lakemoon, and that’s another cat he quickly peels his dark gaze away from. An uncomfortable heat begins to bubble in his stomach, and it only intensifies when he spots Oakfang talking to Howlpaw a few foxlengths away. His tail begins to twitch, and he glances to his flank, where Moonpaw had been. “Are you going to say hi to your SkyClan kin?” There’s, for once, little judgment in the question. Wolfwind has every right to greet her littermate, and despite his misgivings, Moonpaw should be granted the same right. It’s a Gathering, after all—not a border skirmish.

Having kin outside of ThunderClan is troublesome, especially when his relationships with them are less than friendly. He clicks his tongue, forcing a smile onto a snow-white muzzle as he spots a familiar tabby lead warrior. Raccoonstripe leans close to Nightbird’s ear, murmuring, “Don’t you want to go say hello to our friend again? We got along so well last time.”

// interacting with @Moonpaw and @nightbird , looking at @Petalnose

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — raccoon . raccoonstripe
  — he/him ; lead warrior of thunderclan
  — heteroflexible ; single
  — long-haired black tabby with white and dark brown eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Rai

​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† Sharppaw is a face in the crowd. It's fine– That's fine. ( Maybe it's a lot less fine in her mind than she would like it to be, but she has the self - awareness to realize that it should be. ) He was not the only inconsequential, nothing - face here. There were cats amongst them who would never achieve anything great. Who would go on patrols every morning and every night until they're dead, or wounded by the seemingly endless threads within the forest, and left to die slowly from there...

He didn't want to be like them. He wouldn't be, he corrects himself. somethingsomething confidence. It's the sort of correction that you obviously didn't realize yourself, but someone whispered it into your ear for you, and you commit to it within question. He wonders who around him were walking amongst the crowd as a warrior for the first time. Not that it's his business– or, he supposes it would everyone's, since the leaders loved to announce every little promotion and premonition. Maybe to overcompensate– to look better off than they really were. Maybe that was something ShadowClan had over (or under, depending on who you ask) the other clans. The last time Sharppaw had been here, Chilledstar hadn't bothered. They'd just left. Which was kind of increadibly suspicious, wasn't it? If he were a RiverClanner or– or something, he'd probably find that suspicious. Or like their leader was a mess for their apathy. Or stuck up. Or... something in-between...ish. It wasn't very far off from what he thought already, he guesses.

The line of thought allowed him to stop being so embarrassed over being here as a paw still. Until just then when he thought about how he'd stopped thinking about it. So, that's great.

He can't help but wonder if that RiverClan apprentice had made it to warriorhood, and yet he actually didn't want to know at all. (Of course she had, why wouldn't she? She wasn't like him. He could name all the ways in which she wasn't, but that would be a whole thing). He tries to focus on nothing, to think about nothing at all. And if someone did ask him about it, what would he say? That he believes in himself now or whatever and so, next time...

It's a sad train of thought, maybe he'll just claw their ears off instead.

He wouldn't actually, but the thought that he could makes him feel better.

OOC † IN THE MIRROR 07.07.2023

• OOC: being anxious in a corner somewhere.... kinda sorta looking for @ICICLEFANG but kinda sorta not really.
  
•  

• SHARPPAW: brother to Rookpaw. Mentored by Smogmaw
  —— he / she , no pref , icked by they prns ; fine with gendered terms ( tom, molly, etc... )
  —— currently 13 moons old. warrior ceremony delayed due to lackluster progress.
  
  anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharppaw is a creature living in constant fear. Most thoughts are irrational, but consistent in that they are borne from pessimism and generalized anxieties.
  — In an era of assessing what has set him back and figuring out what he wants.

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

Duskpool grumbled, peering into the mesh of gathering cats, molten copper narrowed as he found himself yet again at the scrutiny of other cats. Damnit. He never understood the appeal. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed mingling with others, preferring to stick to the outskirts like a looming shadow, deadpan molten copper blazing as he watched on.

With a sigh, the obsidian-hued male watched Drizzlepelt wander off, lips quirking fondly at the newly made warrior. No longer would he be chaperoning, lost amongst the crowd of multi-colored pelts, nothing more than a ghost. Just how he liked it. No need for silly interactions with felines that he would more than likely meet on the battlefield, gaze flickering to the WindClanners at the thought, huffing. It was a tactical advantage, but one that someone could perceive as cowardly.

The scarred tom shifted, settling down off to the side, molten copper narrowed. He’d be content sitting on the sidelines, watching on as the gathering moved along, marred ears swerving to idly catch random conversations amongst them all. Social interactions were far out of his league. Something he never enjoyed doing since he was a long-limbed kit, but he wasn't against listening in.

/ open for interactions ! ​

​

thought speech​

​

 

[Moonwhisper]

She is dutifully at Raccoonstripe's heel, head high and steps confident. Whether she was late to recieve her name or not it was no barring on her skill and only due to an unfortunate accident, so she might as well act like a proper warrior now anyways. A ringed tail flicks to draw her from her thoughts and she follows his gaze to Wolfwind padding over to Lakemoon, most likely about to brag about her promotion. Her eyes narrow in thought to the offer before she scoffs.
"I'm not interested in speaking to them." The tortie point says quietly, glancing around with disinterest; she didn't even really want to come but she was tired of sitting in camp anyways-if her mentor wasn't there with her what was even the point? Besides, maybe she could find someone more interesting to talk to than her SkyClan kin who were the last thing on her mind. Despite that she does spot Howlpaw some distance away, her spotted pelt was hard to miss in a crowd and if her sister caught her eye she would very quickly shake her head and look elsewhere. With little hesitation she decided the best way to avoid talking to her family was to be engaged with someone else and very swiftly she spots a dark form sitting off to the side as though withdrawing from the crowd. There is little thought as to why this cat, who she can tell is a ShadowClanner as she approaches, is cowering off away from any socializing but she doesn't actually care. It's a distraction regardless of how odd the cat is.
"ShadowClanner, what has you over here? Not one for socializing perhaps?"

---

[Ooc]
Looked briefly @Howlfire & talking to @SHARPPAW.
​

 

[VENOMSTRIKE]

( ) Venomstrike would glance up to see that Wolfsong had approached him and began speaking to him, his ears perking up and he noticeably relaxed hearing his voice. His words and presence comforting though his eyes shifted to the ground, his ears laying flat against his skull but spoke up in a low voice "Y...Yeah... It's loud..." Venomstrike glancing around to see cats mingling with one another or even just glaring at each other, the sight itself was enough to make a dry chuckle erupt from his maw and straightened his posture so he sat up a lot taller than he had been moments ago. His fidgeting would not quit quite yet, his leg continuing to thump on the ground but less intense than it had been before.

He nodded to what Wolfsong said about the Riverclan leader being loud and took note of that before offering a ghost of a smile "T... Thank... Thank you, Wolfsong." A small dip of his head though his eyes glanced over to Snakeblink trying to figure out where the Riverclan deputy had gone. Several thoughts in his mind buzzing, the large tomcat glancing over to the medicine cat once more hearing what he said about bringing a different warrior and his eyes widened for a moment. Maybe if he hadn't gone he wouldn't be worrying so much about Rattleheart though he flicked an ear finally shaking his head "I appreciate it... T-truly, Wolfsong.

He hadn't realized it but his fidgeting had finally subsided, he felt less heavy and let out another soft breath "I sh-should be good now... Talking with y... you helps... I just needed to... to adjust s'all..." The moor runner's head would duck down momentarily as he added in a lower voice "I know... Nothing bad will happen but... The tensions are... a little... little... O-overwhelming..." Which was understandable given Windclan's attack on Skyclan, his paws shuffling as he thought about Windclan's moors, his clanmates, and them. He parted his jaws as if to say something else but closed them.

"I miss Rattleheart". This thought kept to himself. Maybe he would've been less fidgety if the other had tagged along with them? Who knows. Although, Venomstrike would try his best in not looking like a trembling mouse... Especially now that he has managed to somewhat soothe his nerves after speaking with Wolfsong, he offered a small smile in silent gratitude to the medicine cat.

/ @WOLFSONG ​

( ME GUSTA LA MAÑANA; ME GUSTAS TÚ )

 

[Fireflyglow]

Holding a small flower in his jaws, Fireflypaw makes his way through the crowd with his tail held high, occasionally bumping it against cats to make sure he didn't run into them. It was an odd practice, but with so many scents it was hard to decipher what from who. Silver petals accentuate a mossy green stem, the bell-shaped flower dangling from his jaws as he sheepishly pushes his way through the crowd of cats. "Excuse me- ah, Apologies-" He finds himself muttering if he bumps into someone, though he's quick to make it out of the fray and into the clearing where his mentor sits taunting a cat he doesn't know. Nervousness begins to pile up inside of him like bricks, and soon he's turning away to let Dawnglare reap what he sows, for once. Nope.. Not doin' that. He thinks to himself with a frown, backing up enough until he feels himself bump into a cat.

"Oh! I'm sorry, didn't see 'ya there." He blurts, heavy paws shuffling on the ground as the sightless tom turns in the direction of the body.

// Open to interactions! You can be the one he bumped into, or someone else!​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 12 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[smogstar]

The deputy's pawsteps are laden with misery, unease. They drag across low-slung blades of grass, claws puncturing the soil out of comfortable compulsion, steering his clanmates into tonight's middling affair.

His gait is burdened as he plods through the hollow's expanse. Burdened by the eyes and whispers of the surrounding rabble, and the hushed conversations that may (or may not) be interwoven with vague allusions to his presence. Burdened by the spineless Sootstar's bid on his life, the aftermath of which still lingers in his bones and his brawn. Burdened by the residual tension from every turbulent moment of the moon prior.

Though he can coax a stern expression and keep his head held high amid the sea of cats, Smogmaw's nerves were as taut as a spiderweb, a minor disturbance away from snapping entirely.

It isn't apparent to him who departed from whom. Sharppaw followed on his heels the last time he'd swung his head over his shoulder, but it would seem she has since melted into the crowd around him. This, if anything, comes as a relief to the tom—he's unsettled as is, and his apprentice's ceaseless second-guessing would only serve to addle him further.

Chittertongue's tawny outline is prominent amongst the gathering-goers, and Smogmaw decides at that moment to rove in his clanmate's trajectory. Mingling with the other deputies was an easily-postponable matter to him. Brows knit together somewhat when he notes the proximity of two other cats: Needledrift, who would do well to shy away from Briar's kin, as well as a velvety foreigner with a face that beckoned for a claw-swipe.

"Night's too young for idle discrimination," the deputy asserts, his ashen-hued frame moseying past Chittertongue's. His clanmate is acknowledged with a discreet bump of the shoulder. Nothing more, nothing less. His regard is fixated solely on the stranger, skeptical of the motives hidden beneath his fleecy figure. "Don't go barin' your teeth at us, or at least find someone who's worth snarlin' at. We've more than enough grievances at home, thank you, and I'd wager it's a similar story for your lot."


// defending the honour of @CHITTERTONGUE and @Needledrift from the vicious @DAWNGLARE. ​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

chilledstar truly has no desire to be here. their gaze is more dull than usual but they say nothing to anyone. they noticed the little squabbles that needledrift and chittertongue seem to be in with a medicine cat, but their deputy handles it. they don't see why. they can handle themselves. with a huff, they moved to stand off to the side, grooming the bits of mud from their fur, tongue drawing over their muzzle with a yawn. they hoped this would be over soon.

//rushed !! awaiting a certain interaction
​

 

[Mosspool]

For the second moon in a row, she had the fortune of attending the gather with her clan. It felt no less momentous to her the second time. In fact, it felt more so. It made her feel like Riverclan was proud of how she had represented them, and wished for her to do so again. She nodded firmly at Snakeblinks instructions, they were good, though unneeded. Her gaze swept the clearing as the other clans entered, until it landed on a familiar grey pelt. It was the tom she had spoken to last gathering, and he almost seemed to be searching for someone.

After a moments consideration, she approached.

"Hello again." Mosspaw called out to him, her greeting a mix of warmth and formality. She decided she liked having a familiar face among the sea of strangers that made up the other clans. "All is well in Skyclan, I hope, since we last spoke?"

//interacting with @Drizzlepelt​

 

[CICADASTAR]

shadow of a creature, eel - like in the way he emerges, makes his way amongst the crowd still dripping riverwater from slick, saturated fur. snakeblink pads at his side, and though his dear friend seemed ridden with nerves, he could only assume the deputies bustling nearby had been similarly disposed. before he departs, he aims a friendly, attention - drawing bump to his shoulder, a gentle knock of too - knobby bones from them both. should slitted green eyes lift, he would offer a little smile, a little nod of encouragement, before pivoting to head towards where tallrock juts from the ground.. when he catches a brief, white - slashed face and eyes as frigid as his own. and instantly, the man pauses in his stride — a paw hesitating to a still mid air, flexing idly as icicle eyes flick towards the towering rock that he meanders towards, head low and tall ears perked. there, alone, settled just off to the side of the wide, bustling clearing, sat chilledstar. and for a moment he watches, hopes the ever - moving colorburst of the flock moving around him draws attention from his looming, stock-still figure.

claws writhe, click silently together where they stray from sharp paws when he hears it. a mumble of a thing from where he stands, unintelligible but just off enough for him to perk from his sudden freeze. sloped skull pivoting towards where skyclan’s medicine cat stands, inclining, wide - eyed at the duo of shadowclanners unfortunate enough to be on his receiving end of whisper-scorn tones. gossamer waves of russet - white billow sweet around an angled face ; from what he’d seen in passing, the medic had always born the volatility and bared - teeth of a fox, with not a whisper of their ugliness. it’s when the shadowclanner lowers their head to groom that he steps mist - silent across the rain - laden grass. when he is close enough.. ” rumor has it, “ the phantom begins, rumbling germanic tones light in jest, ” catching dawnglare’s ire is a rite of passage. “ but the same could be said for himself, he supposed. his frozen gaze blinks upwards, watches where the shadowclan leader looks flippantly towards. he recognizes the rosetted feline as one of briarstar’s brood, back from his time in the marshes himself, ” they’ll come out stronger for it. “

cicadastar looks up from them then, towards snakeblink, hoping to catch his eye in assurance — only for nauseating, cool - toned fur to taints his vision, short, moor - toned limbs bringing her to stare upwards at his adder - like lead. he glowers, feels the heat of it burn against his corneas, ” would you be terribly opposed to company? “ despite speaking to chilledstar still, his stare never leaves sootstar’s back, words gritted hard through abruptly clenching teeth. she should need nothing with him — what was she saying? what was she saying? ” should i socialize within that crowd, i’m afraid i’ll be the next to earn starclan’s distaste. “ his own marred spot along tallrock.. the mere thought disgusts him to the marrow.

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i. interacting with @Snakeblink briefly before ghosting over to @CHILLEDSTAR. to gossip and glare DAGGERS at @SOOTSTAR ‘s back. also admiring @DAWNGLARE narcissistically somehow
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
  
  
  m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.
  
  ᨒ gay, mated to smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
  ᨒ speaks with a german accent. 50 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• "speech"

​

 

[Maggotfur.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotpaw | 08 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple​

---

Once more Maggotpaw has been drawn into the chaos of the gathering, though this time the blue-furred molly does not hover upon the sidelines but instead strides purposefully forwards, ears angled upwards. After bears of all things interrupting their clans meeting, putting up with a crowd of cats is nothing. Eyes search the crowd for familiar faces - landing briefly on a windclan tom with golden fur whom she thinks had been present on the thunderpath, and then again onto a thunderclanner she thinks she might've seen upon the border.

Vivid blue gaze does not find the one cat she wants however. Instead, her large frame is jostled instead by yet another unknown, and she snaps to attention with an icy glare as she peers down her muzzle at them. "Tch - watch where-" she starts words waspish, before she blinks[. Even she's not so cruel as to tell a seemingly blind cat to watch where he's going, but the thought still draws a quiet snort from her anyways. "I thought medicine cats were supposed to stay over there," she says, head tipping to the side. Magpiepaw sits over there after all - why isn't this one?

// searching for sunflowerpaw; interacting with @Fireflypaw

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Ever-wary, ever-suspicious, Twitchbolt was perhaps the perfect foil to Flamewhisker's worries about being overheard. He glanced every-which-way for any sign of aggression in the glinting glare of a WindClanner as he hesitantly made his way through the clearing, sticking rather close to Quillstrike rather than striding off with his fellow lead warriors. He still felt... profoundly as if he didn't fit among them, young and nervous and jumpy. A stark contrast to the sturdiness of many within Blazestar's council, past and present. His own former mentor included.

He drew up beside Auburnflame, dipping his head in acknowledgement of the long-time ThunderClan lead warrior that stood before them. His pelt prickled with the heat of self-consciousness once again, the patchwork tom acutely aware of the fact that he had encountered Flamewhisker as an apprentice. Someone he had known in youth, and was now... the same as. Authority. His skin felt as if it wasn't his own.

"We're, y'know... good as we can be, right?" he hummed, looking briefly to Auburnflame before glancing over his shoulder once again to watch for any closing-in Windclanners. ThunderClan had made an enemy the night they'd helped SkyClan, but... they'd kept a friendship strong, too. His voice was a low, hoarse whisper as he murmured, "Nothing- nothing else has happened with- with ThunderClan, right?"

\ interacting with @Flamewhisker and @Auburnflame ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Howlfire]

As she sits waiting, more and more cats spill into the gathering, mingling with friends in other clans or making smalltalk to unfamiliar faces. Among the ThunderClan cats she spots a few of her kin - Wolfwind, Raccoonstripe, and Moonpaw. For a moment she makes eye contact with her sister, but Moonpaw merely shakes her head and looks away. Howlfire merely frowns. She is glad when the approach of another cat catches her attention and takes her thoughts away from the mixed feelings around her siblings.

Turning to see who addressed her, she sees a familiar face in the ThunderClan tom who had come with Flamewhsiker to warn of WindClan's impending attack. He notes that she seems to be well and asks after the state of her clan before formally introducing himself. Oakfang. Yes, she would make an effort to commit that name to memory out of respect for what he did. "Nice to meet you on better terms, Oakfang. I'm Howlfire," Howlfire says, giving the tom a polite smile. "And SkyClan fares well. Luckily we were spared from a worse attack thanks to your early warning." Although she's not sat by many WindClan cats, she does her best to share that tidbit of information in a quiet tone, not wanting to know of ThunderClan's act that night. When he mentions the awkwardness, Howlfire bobs her head in agreement. "It'll only get more awkward once the leaders start yelling," Howlfire mused. "Is this your first gathering?"

@OAKFANG ​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ A voice whispers and slithers through his ears, nose crinkling up ever so slightly as he finds his head turning. Turning and turning to land amber orb upon the one that speaks. His smile never falters as he stares at Dawnglare and his body becomes slightly rigid before relaxing again. "The waters? The waters. Why us?" He begins with a slow pull from his chest. His clan is a dark thing but he thinks they are saints compared to the cats of the moorlands. Yet he supposes he can see why. He can to a very small degree. Yet he merely shakes his head a little as he breathes in softly, his grin stretching his face wider as he fixes his gaze upon Smogmaw. The deputy gently bumps his shoulder and seems to stand for him. For them. It makes a sudden cackle break from his throat as he looks back to the Skyclanner. "Not so bad. Just idle thoughts. I was not offended." Truly he is more curious than anything and if he remembers correctly this is the medicine cat of Skyclan. A name escapes him though. But the smell of earth and leaves is easy to take notoce of.

- talking to @smogmaw and @DAWNGLARE ​

 

[skyclaw]

Although not his first gathering, Skypaw feels like little more than a kitten tottling out of the nursery for the first time. He thinks it's because his former mentor isn't by his side - instead, the lost tom graces the stars. Skypaw hopes he's watching tonight, ensuring that the sky remains clear (though the living has just the same responsibility.) In any case, he strides in beside Howlingstar instead, attempting to wear the pride of a leader's apprentice in his expression. He may as well make the most of it, right? No use in milling about purely distraught and pained. He held his own vigil, mourned on his own time; now was the time to be a socialite... or as close to one as he can be.

He watches as his fellow ThunderClanners depart; Wolfwind greets a RiverClanner, Moonpaw ducks towards a ShadowClanner. Several of his Clanmates mingle easily with SkyClanners, perhaps due to the recent circumstances. Skypaw hesitates and creeps closer to his grandmother, not yet slipping from her side.

[ mobile // hanging out near @HOWLINGSTAR , waiting for someone but open to minor interacts! ]​

 

[iciclefang]

Iciclefang slips through the crowd easily, burning blue eyes searching for a familiar angular dark feline. Cicadastar is sitting with the ShadowClan leader after breezing by a small group of them, so she figures she is well within her right to seek her marsh-dwelling acquaintance out. Strong tortoiseshell limbs carry her to where Sharppaw sits, conversing with a somewhat-familiar she-cat with ThunderClan scent. Iciclefang gives the pale she-cat a nod, but the bulk of her attention goes to the dark-pelted cat.

“Sharppaw. It’s been awhile,” she greets, her whiskers twitching. “I take it the bears have left? Looks like most of you are in better shape.” She turns to the ThunderClan cat, wracking her brain for a name. Is she kin to Howlingstar?... seems like most of the Clan is, though, so she can’t fault herself too badly. “I’m Iciclefang. Perhaps we’ve met on the battlefield.” She smirks.

// talking with @SHARPPAW. and @Moonpaw

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — iciclekit . iciclepaw . iciclefang
  — she/her ; warrior of riverclan
  — lesbian ; single
  — short-haired tortoiseshell with white markings and ice-blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Pin

​

 

[sparrowsong!]

..╭―――――――――――――――|➹|―――――――――――――――╮

.

As happy as they were to be given the chance to attend the Gathering - for the honor they knew it to be, - they weren't quite sure if they actually wanted to come. They had, of course, as they trotted alongside Auburnflame, but they were tired. They had been hoping to get an early night's rest.

Their mentor was the one to draw them from their thoughts, bumping their shoulder with his as he mentioned being proud of them. Shyly, they ducked their head, and they're told to go have fun. "Thank you, Auburnflame," they say, eyes flickering up to him before they part ways.

Sparrowpaw weaves into the crowd, and as they watch cats mingle and chat and even glare at each other, they're suddenly not too sure about searching for conversation. Ears angled back slightly, the small feline shuffled to the side to let someone pass and sat down. They recognized the scent of WindClan in the air, and while they hadn't participated in the battle, the knowledge made their fur prickle uncomfortably.

// open for interactions :)​

.

..╰―――――――――――――――|➹|―――――――――――――――╯

 

[GREENEYES]

Greeneyes keeps close to his apprentice as they walk to the clearing, viridian gaze looking over to check on Falconpaw every few steps. Gatherings are supposed to be a time of peace, he knows, but still, he finds himself worried about the newly-named apprentice. Just a kit, Falconpaw is - the walk to the gathering can be a long one, and --

Had Sheepcurl felt the same, when she'd been assigned him? So full of worry for the scrap of fur she'd been tasked with mentoring? He'd only just been tasked with feeding this kit the other day, and now he's tasked with making sure he learns all there is to know about the pine forest, the clans that surround them.

"The Gathering's a good place to speak with other clans," he tells his apprentice, as they arrive to the Fourtrees, "Probably the best, actually! Since gatherings are supposed to be peaceful --" He hopes this one will be, at least - this past moon's events have him worrying for a chance of otherwise.

"Go and mingle, amigo!" he speaks, before realizing it'd probably be best for Falconpaw to have a better introduction to the other clans than just being thrown into a gathering's crowd. A crash course in which clan is which, who leads what - should he have done that on the way here? Would Sheepcurl have done that, if Greeneyes had been thrown to his first gathering right away?

"Or... Or, I can go with you, if you want!" he quickly adds. Gatherings can be overwhelming - perhaps it would be for the best if he stuck close to Falconpaw, made sure his apprentice was okay.

// speaking with @falconkit , open to interactions!​

​

 

[TADPOLEPAW]

His eyes seldom blink as the living shadow weaves through the silver-edged crowd, blown open like iridescent leaves flattened against his face. Tadpolepaw's head feels like it's wobbling precariously on his swannish neck, tugged this way and that by the sheer amount of scent and sound. Not even as a kittypet in the middle of a throng of twolegs; dodging their long, swaying legs and being lifted into the air one too many times; had he been so overwhelmed. At least he couldn't understand what his twolegs were doing. The purpose of a "Gathering" should be straightforward, but even sleeping in the same den as the other apprentices has him tossing and turning the night away. Voices chitter and clack in his overlarge ears, making him want to twist them against his skull, but he refrains for the sake of looking peaceful. And for looking like he ostensibly belongs.

Scents are mixed so thickly here that he's hardly able to pick them apart. The border between ShadowClan and ThunderClan is crystal-cut, like two rivulets of scent that never touch. Four-Trees is a riot of it, a veritable ocean woven with ephemeral threads of airborne culture. ShadowClan's deep, mud-laden smell is easiest to pick out, but if Tadpolepaw hadn't walked here with his Clanmates and seen them disperse, he'd fear he lost them in the initial shock. Needledrift in particular had gently encouraged him to go on ahead, before Chittertongue caught the most of her attention. He catches a faint drift of windswept grass and sun-tinged pelts, and his mind instantly conjures the little moor-cat for him. They're here too? The shade quickly walks in the other direction.

Tadpolepaw quickly finds a cat without preoccupations and, glancing at the silent spot next to them, asks, "Could I sit there?" Assuming they said yes, the stretched shadow of a feline would awkwardly fold his spidery limbs beneath his frame and take a seat. The other cat, a small spotted thing, smells of pine, like him, but in a stronger capacity. As though they didn't just brush past the occasional pine tree, the only sort of tree in ShadowClan territory, but lived and breathed amongst the boughs. "Hey, I'm Tadpolepaw," he says, wrapping his reedy tail around his paws. "What Clan are you from?" Was that a normal thing to ask? Hopefully Tadpolepaw looked young enough to be stupid, if it had been a stupid question.

// talking to @sparrowpaw! ​