The Pied Piper's assistant | pre-gathering chatter

[BURNSTORM]

His first gathering as a warrior. He finds himself excited, his pelt prickling as if there is static in the air other than his own energy. When they make it to the clearing, the other ThunderClanners fan out. His golden colored eyes find Wolfwind as she makes her way to her sister, Lakemoon then to Moonpaw and Raccoonstripe who speak briefly before heading off to do their own thing. His eyes find his younger sibling who he had ended up next to. "Have fun. Find me if you need me." he offers before flicking Skypaw on the shoulder affectionately.

He looks around this sacred place, eyes scanning for Roeflame. They had come here together but no doubt they had gotten separated in the initial flood as everyone dispersed and parted ways. He holds little interest in conversing with anyone outside of ThunderClan though so if he cannot find her he would simply take a seat, wrapping his fluffy tail around his paws, but not before bringing one up and licking it, drawing it over his ears and then repeating the process as he groomed himself.

// open to any interactions! looking for @Roeflame . briefly interacting with @skypaw .
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[falcongaze]

❝ CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
Gathering. It had been briefly explained to him at one point or another, where all of the clans got together to discuss events and happenings. The walk had almost felt akin to walking from the sewer to Skyclan, and while it wasn't exactly comfortable, he had been okay. Though, knowing him, he'd probably be hitting his nest as soon as he got back. (Which, he barely had time to pick a nest in the apprentice den. This was crazy.) He offered a smile to Greeneyes right before the made it into the clearing.

As the scent reached him, his head turned back forward, inhaling quietly. His ears flattened, taking it all in for a minute. Cats, so many, of different shapes, sizes, fur types, accents.. he swept his gaze over the Gathering, his head turning towards Greeneyes again. Nervous worry prickled against his skin, and he opened his mouth, then closed it, working a thought over as Greeneyes offered him a choice. He looked back towards the gathering again. Falconpaw looked back towards Greeneyes a moment later. "Let's... let's go together? Do you have.. anyone here you want to see?" Falconpaw asked, forcing his fur to flatten.

After all, he was probably amongst the youngest cats here. He wasn't sure he wanted to be trampled by a Thunderclanner or something similar.

// open for interaction! sticking near @GREENEYES for the moment!

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK ❞ ​

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[DAWNGLARE]

The waters? Blue eyes remain trained on the pale frame, jaws clamped in a smile– familiar, in some sense. Why us? He's lost him, just that quickly. He is no mind reader, and if he were, this one would not be worth his time. The sea he can see churning is undeniably wrong, and Dawnglare purses his lips in lieu of this lost cause, interest lost quickly. A breath fills his chest, and the next time he speaks, his gaze would instead pivot to the shadowy form behind this one. " Oh, you know... " he drawls tepidly; noncommitted. He no longer has his eye on this one.

Moving further still onto dark tabby stripes. Idle discrimination he calls it, and Dawnglare balks at this assertion that time and place may be so fickle. It was everywhere, wasn't it? In the moon and in the clouds– his own love was a product of such. If only he could tell Blazestar the same. A blustery laugh bursts past his maw, set in mild confusion. " Really? Oh– really? " his eyes grimace despite his smile. He lurches forward a morsel, eyes squinting. " Teeth? "

He lurches back suddenly, nose wrinkled. He could certainly flash his teeth, but would not bother with faces he knew not the names to. The assertion that he possibly cares so much is irritating. " I do not care about you, " he affirms, voice now flat, and he fixes the tawny warrior with a stare that teeters on dour. Whether he was or was not offended is unimportant to him. Grievances at home. Hmm, perhaps.

Like a night wraith, RiverClan's curled leader slips past them, and Dawnglare angles an ear as he speaks. And he scoffs, ire a word far too strong. Eyes that threaten to roll into his skull absently trace the steps of the leader as he retreats, lingering perhaps a touch too long. That is the one he likes, he thinks– he remembers. In a quick snap of the neck, eyes are on ShadowClan again. " And who do you deem worthy, then? " he asks, if only because he suspected the answer would be a foolish one.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: Talking to @CHITTERTONGUE and @smogmaw ; also rolling his eyes at (& admiring) @CICADASTAR

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[Addervenom]

Life doesn't discriminate

His molten gaze skims those gathered as he trails beside Sunstride, bristle backed and watchful. The tension here was thicker than he remembered, but of course it was not hard to imagine why. Passing by his mother he catches her questioning the whereabouts of a vaguely familiar name. Smokethroat. Was that not the dark furred tom his father dreaded? His brows harden, gait slowing as he continues to eye the odd riverclanner known as Snakeblink, awiating an answer. Edging closer to where his mother stood, Adderpaw's voice dips low. "Surely you don't care for the whereabouts of such a lowly pest.." He murmurs before pinning the riverclan lead a sweeping look from head to tail. Something akin to if he'd stepped on something meant to be wiped off the bottom of his paw. (interacting with @SOOTSTAR and by extension @Snakeblink) ​

Between the sinners and the saints​

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[SHARPSHADOW]

† She doesn't expect to be approached– which was stupid, considering the only purpose of the gathering was to talk. Silver eyes flicker up toward the apprentice. ThunderClan's scent was something he knew well now, tunnels and all.

It feels like an insult, but what right did Sharppaw have to be upset when it was true? His jaw sets, and he tries not to look like he was overthinking this whole thing terribly. Smogmaw never got what he wanted by looking at others with the eyes of a startled bird, ruffled feathers and all. He didn't stutter, either. Not that it mattered. Not that he is by any means, the ideal cat to emulate.

" Uh, yeah, " Sharppaw says lamely. He runs out of conversation instantly. Well– he didn't really have any to begin with. The heavy breath through his nose is far too dramatic for this situation. " And you? " Gross. Obvious. A default reply you could use for literally anything. Sharppaw tries not to outwardly despair at her own awkwardness as she catches tortoiseshell fur shuffling toward her.

Sharppaw blinks. Her eyes flicker from side to side, figuring that there must be someone more important they mean to see. The ThunderClan apprentice even– even if it seemed that RiverClan and ThunderClan were on pretty bad terms. Iciclepaw talks to him though. She's kind of surprised that she remembers his name. ...He's kinda surprised that he remembers her name. He hopes the beat of silence before he remembers how to say " Hi, " is something only he hears. " –Iciclepaw " he adds. Maybe to show that he remembers, or something stupid.

Iciclefang now, he quickly learns. " Oh. Congrats. " Maybe she should sound way more excited for her, but it takes a lot for him to not retreat from the conversation right there and then It's not like she knew he was still an apprentice. She'd find out in a bit– or, no, right now when he doesn't correct her. Sharppaw shuffles his paws. " Oh– yeah. They um, all came back alive somehow, " he says, disbelief shifting uninhibited through his voice. He really didn't understand how, especially when Poppypaw...

Whatever. Better shape was probably code for how gross and decrepit ShadowClan must've looked last gathering. At least Sharppaw had been far too much so to even show his face. ...That then reminds him of the ugly scar now crisscrossing it. He looks between the two apprentices. " Is that... uh, awkward? "

OOC † IN THE MIRROR 07.07.2023

• OOC: talking to @Moonpaw and @ICICLEFANG!
  
•  

• 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.

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[sparrowsong!]

..╭―――――――――――――――|➹|―――――――――――――――╮

.

The scent that fills their nose is of stale water, earthiness, and pine - ShadowClan. Sparrowpaw finds themself to be apprehensive when they look over to the newcomer, having had only one encounter with the Clan before - which had been rather unpleasant, to be truthful - but as they look up into yellow eyes, they don't find what gazes back to be quite unsettling.

Although they utter a yes, their naturally soft voice is lost among the din, and the ShadowClanner only has a nod as confirmation. The taller cat introduced themself as Tadpolepaw, and the chocolate tabby begins to relax. Maybe they were wrong about the distant Clan, then.

When asked about their own Clan, Sparrowpaw sits up a little straighter. "I'm from SkyClan," they answer with a tinge of glee. "My name's Sparrowpaw. You're from ShadowClan, right?" Even though they were fairly confident on the scents of ShadowClan and WindClan, it wasn't often they encountered it.

// chatting with @TADPOLEPAW ​

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..╰―――――――――――――――|➹|―――――――――――――――╯

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

————— ☀ —————
YOU ARE THE DAYLIGHT

Far too much has happened since the last full moon. The death of their half-brother, the reassignment of their mentor, Sunflowerpaw feels adrift. It is as though all their anchors have come unmoored; they walk into the sea of cats with bright eyes turned glassy, steps heavy and uneven. Perhaps they should feel even more adrift now, a bitter miasma of emotion dragging them away from mentor both new and old, unwilling to follow Houndthistle nor to watch Wolfsong take the place their brother should still hold.

And yet, Sunflowerpaw walks with purpose, weaving through the gathered cats. Their paws have become traitor, seeking the face of an enemy yet again. Bloodsoaked though they have seen her, laughter cruel and mocking of the undying leader who placed her trust in Sunflowerpaw. (Had it been misplaced? They don't let themself wonder.) Their heart, too, turns traitor; there should be no comfort in this, and yet the familiar sight of a head dipped in moonlight has relief flooding their veins. She's come, then.

Catching the tail of venomous words, Sunflowerpaw turns a burning golden gaze upon the apprentice who lingers near Maggotpaw. A medicine cat, then. They hum a steady tone of a hello, announcing their presence to both, though making little other introduction for the unfamiliar apprentice.

YOU ARE THE NIGHT
————— ☀ —————

.°☀ info ; visual

• // interacting with @Maggotfur. and @Fireflypaw
  ​
• SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
  — they/them, 8 moons.
  — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
  — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most. rarely speaks.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• "SPEECH"
  ​
• 

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[SUNSTAR]

Many here mingle with warmth– Sunstride does not match it. He watches his apprentice follow in his mother's footsteps with barely so much as a blink, instead scanning the crowd with a subtle lowering of his brow. None among the clan match the companion he had fought alongside Galeforce; with the empty scent of it all, he should have known as much. It still does not please him to know that there are others so bold out there. It worries him that they had acted with the direction of another clan, if not as one of their warriors. Would another do such a thing? He thinks to the times he had strayed beyond WindClan's borders with his own leader's blessing and does not doubt it. Though his gaze lingers where Wolfsong sits astride their clanmate, it is not long before it wanders away on a mission of its own.

The broad-shouldered tom strides through the crowd with firm pressure, yielding to none that stood before him. All the while, icy blue eyes scan the crowd in an angry furrow.

＞ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES ╱ REFERENCE ╱ 07.10.2023 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕 〙ˊˎ＜

• ooc: open to interactions, ofc! looking for sharpeye, though he's obvs not here :)

• 

• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. approx. 40 moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
  —— gay, monogamous. mate to wolfsong from 07.05.2023.  npc x npc, no larger family.
  —— has recently regained some of his earlier lightness, but maintains his steady facade.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.

• "speech"

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[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
As if summoned by thought, the familiar sing-song of her siblings voice rings out from somewhere nearby.
Lakemoon barely has time to look over her shoulder before Wolfwind is there, saddled up next to her.
Moon-bathed brows furrow together suspiciously, notice something different…?
She hardly has time to reply when the sight of two amber eyes flickering in her direction snatch the tabbies attention away from her sister, even if just for a moment.
Raccoonstripe is quick to look away, but Lakemoons gaze lingers for a moment longer, her gaze visibly darkening before she moves her attention back to Wolfwind.
She feels a spark of anger from somewhere in her heart, a ghost of the rage the warrior had felt towards her disgraced kin that day on the battlefield, but it is gone in a blink, a storm passed by the time sapphire optics are back onto her sister.
"Why must you speak in riddles, Wolfie?" The old nickname rolls off her tongue with ease despite the ages it has been since she last used it.
She gives the other a quick look both up and down, suspicion clouding a typically crystal gaze.
"Don’t tell me it’s kits." The next words to leave her are only a half-joke, the quirk in her brow giving away her partial hope that it really wasn’t.

//interacting with @WOLFWIND , briefly looking at @RACCOONSTRIPE

"speech"

tags​

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[ROEFLAME .]

ROEFLAME — break the air to feel the fall.
Would it be odd to admit that she actually hadn't wanted to be chosen this moon?
Perhaps. Going to the gathering was a privledge, after all… but it was a distraction tonight, a reason to be somewhere else.
Yet, even with Burnstorms comforting presence beside her, as she slides past foliage and into the dim-lit clearing, her heart is only flooded with sadness.
She is frozen in time for a moment, unknowingly pushed away from her friend as the rest of both her clanmates and others make their way back and forth.
Golden green eyes are focused on a particular spot on the outskirts of the clearing, almost empty as they recall broken memories back to the front of her mind.
He wouldn’t want that.
Slowly, she closes her eyelids with a hefty inhale on her lips.
Exhale.
When she opens her eyes once more, it is just a shadowy space, and the form of Snowpath is no longer there.
She is back to the present, her grief numbed- and she realizes she has no idea where her faces of familiarity have gone.
She would be happy to never interact with anyone outside of Thunderclan again, and keeps her head down as she slips through the crowd.
Burnstorm is more than easy enough to spot, his dark fur painting the illusion of a shadow almost creating an intimidating presence.
Roeflame bee-lines towards him, suddenly feeling comically small in his vicinity.
"Stars, I thought you disappeared on me." The cinnamon warrior huffs, taking a seat next to him to watch the crowd of cats before them.
"It never ceases to amaze me how many cats there are at these." She comments half-mindedly.

//talking with @BURNSTORM !

"speech"

tags​

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[Acornwish.]

ACORNKIT — the cow jumped over the moon .
Paws comparable to a mouses pitter-patter across the ground as the tawny apprentice scurries on the heels of her mentor.
This would be her first actual gathering- while the invite had been extended last moon from her mentor, the sudden “stomachache” that had caught her held her back from joining Flamewhisker.
Yet, after her conversation with her older sister, Acornpaw had been feeling good about joining the flame-striped warrior this time around.
Yet, when the chatter from the oak’s clearing can be heard before the apprentice has even had a chance to poke her head through the little barrier there is between Acornpaw and the clearing, doubt begins to hammer alongside her heartbeat.
She’d spare a cautionary look towards Flamewhisker, pastel verdant optics developing a fearful sheen before she’d force herself to continue onward.
What she walks into is unlike anything she’s ever seen before, hundreds.. no, millions of cats swarm the clearing, the moon so full overhead it bathes every single one in faded white.
Her head cranes upwards, struggling to take it all in- or even realize she has strayed from her mentors side right into the fray.
By the time Acornpaw decides to level her eye-line, it is too late- a barricade of her is right in front of her.
Despite her futile efforts, the Thunderclan apprentice would walk nose-first into @falconpaw! with a startled gasp already on her maw.
Awkwardly, Acornpaw would step back, eyes widening as she looked at the stranger she had practically barreled into.
"Uhm-" She cannot even manage a word, embarrassment and anxiety pricking at her cheekbones.
The scent of pine sap was almost overwhelming, and she has to shuffle back a pawstep.

//awkwardly interacting with Falconpaw and by extension @GREENEYES

"speech"

tags​

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[nightbird]

words fill her ears, a huff of amusement is quick to follow. nightbird tracks raccoonstripe's gaze to the tabby riverclanner they had the pleasure of speaking to the last time they were here. "swallowing a pawful of thorns sounds more enticing." words directed at her fellow lead warrior, the molly made no efforts to silence her tone in the case of prying ears. besides, she was sure that the feeling was mutual.

nonetheless, she casts her gaze onto the duo. rather affectionate, were they not? a chaste lick to an ear, the soft caress of a tail. close they were indeed. "seem rather enamored, don't you think?" a tufted head tilted as she watched their sickeningly sweet behavior. a match made in the stars, she presumed. "or perhaps it's just a show to ward off your incessant flirting," nightbird teased as she turned to meet him with a wry grin. either way, it made no difference to her, although it was rather ironic after their demands that they were simply friends.

// interacting with @RACCOONSTRIPE , discussing and observing @Petalnose & @Aspenhaze ​

 

[TADPOLEPAW]

Tadpolepaw tilts his head, letting the stranger's scent trickle through his nose as they put a name to it: SkyClan. "It's nice to meet you, Sparrowpaw," he responds just as he's supposed to. Really, he doesn't know what else to say for greetings, and there's a thousand other questions fizzing on his tongue, he just doesn't know how to work them in. Sparrowpaw fills the gaps for him though, accurately deducing he's from ShadowClan. Surprise flits across his face for a moment, pulling his brows up in its wake, but the dark pool of his features returns to normal with a snappy realization. His scent gives it away, of course, just as the mud crusted between his paw pads and dew-dripped whiskers do. That should've been a given to Tadpolepaw though—perhaps he's just not used to fitting the ShadowClan mold, especially not in the senses of others. No spark of joy leaps in his chest at being recognized as a wildcat, only the cooling sensation of relief.

Sparrowpaw's long shadow nods in response. Yes, yes, he's a ShadowClanner all right. "What's SkyClan like?" he ventures. Bat-like ears pitch in the tilt of his head. "You have...lots of trees?" he lazily guesses. Wouldn't they have a lot of shade if they have a lot of trees? Why wouldn't they be called ShadowClan? echo thoughts in the back in of his mind, weaving in and out of the background chatter.

\\ chatting with @sparrowpaw! ​

 

[falcongaze]

❝ CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
As Falconpaw addressed Greeneyes, his fur itching to stand back up, unkowingly, someone was winding their way towards him. He winced as his nose was whacked, head forced backwards. He focused his eyes back forward, flushing with embarrassment. Falconpaw still smelled a bit like the sewer- but it was mostly Skyclan scent now. His paw reached up, rubbing at his nose, and past his little digits, he finally saw Acornpaw. He settled his paw down, looking over the Thunderclanner in earnest now.

"Don't uh, don't worry. No lasting damage..." That awkward confidence swelled, taking a step forward and offering a small smile. The smell of the woods, briar and oak soap, was coming from the other- but he didn't seem bothered. Growing up in the sewers did him a lot of good, after all. "My name is Falconpaw. I'm from.. Skyclan." He glanced towards Greeneyes for confirmation, then looked back towards Acornpaw.

// talking to @Acornpaw. and searching for confirmation from @GREENEYES

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK ❞ ​

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

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

---

by the time the tom cat has moved over to them, they've moved themself into a laying position. they're still on guard, ready to run and fight in a case where it is truly necessary, but the felidae never knows when it is or isn't safe. better to be ready, than to be dead. they furrowed their brows, propping their chin upon their paws, listening quietly to cicadastar with a gentle huff. they would be stronger from having to deal with dawnglare, hm? if only that were true. skyclan would be stronger than the lot of them, hm? but they weren't. there was no ill will to skyclan itself, but accepting kittypets so willingly didn't exactly cast them in a good light.

"i would hope they were strong enough to deal with him in the first place."

their gaze slowly moves back to their fellow leader, eyes slightly rubbing together in confusion that is quickly dropped. company? of course they did not want company, but it seemed that maybe perhaps this would be better for them. to encourage others to do the same within their clan. after all, was this not the time they could socialize without fear of being attacked? they'd hoped so.

"sure. but i will tell you... anything you decide to do will not touch whatever the fuck is in that head of hers. she's truly got tadpoles for brains."

chilledstar gestures before humming.

"what brings you here, then, hm?"

they knew they weren't the most cozy company. it was on purpose. surely there was something else he wanted? or maybe that was their own paranoia talking.

//talking to @CICADASTAR
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[smogstar]

Mud-coloured eyes ingest the passing contours of moon and midnight. They break from the snide bundle of crimson furs in favour of the Tallrock-bound RiverClan leader, furrowing somewhat, watching bitterly as the opportunity for a more meaningful conversation slips away. Enigmatic, authoritative, seething with shrewd precision—Cicadastar simply fascinates him. Amid the anarchic exchanges between clan leaders during these gatherings, he commanded his words with a measured intensity, demanding the full attention of friend and foe alike. It's an admirable quality, and one which Smogmaw envied to boot. It is only a matter of time before the stars align and the chance is seized to share words with him.

Whatever warmth lingered in his gaze went cold, as it fell upon the SkyClan hairball for the second, uneager time. Chittertongue's assertion does not go unacknowledged, yet his abrupt fit yields only a dry 'hmmph' from the deputy. He holds no doubt in his clanmate's ability to stand up for himself, and thus, he eschews any notion of himself serving as a protector or saviour of any sort. Were it not for the unfamiliar oddball's irritating and bothersome appearance, Smogmaw wouldn't have been drawn into this situation at all.

The stranger resurrects the dialogue, much to his chagrin. Nostrils flare, and the bridge of his muzzle scrunches up something awful. Within him, a churning agitation that sharply collides with the other's cloying facade. One of the timeless teachings suggests that patience is a virtue, and for all intents and purposes, Smogmaw was far from a virtuous tom. Nonetheless, the ShadowClan deputy clenches his jaw, determined to maintain a semblance of self-restraint, and blinks slowly while drawing an extensive breath.

"Those who've wronged you?" he'd meow sharply, a question as an answer to the hanging query. "Those who, in their ignorance or stupidity, have undermined you, mocked your existence, or denied you the respect you deserve?" The words are laced with an acrid bitterness, a reflection of his own experiences and the resentment that brewed as a result. As to why he'd offer an honest answer to such a prickly and peculiar stranger, Smogmaw was not fully certain. He'd been offered a chance to vent repressed frustrations, and perhaps he couldn't resist the cathartic release.

What irritation he had felt before has since lessened. "Those're the ones who I'd be snarlin' at," Smogmaw drawls on, before his regard turns to the swathes of cats around him, ultimately fixating on the queen of the moors in the not-too-distant distance. He then pivots to face the other a final time. "And there're more than a few of those types skulkin' around here."

// interacting with @DAWNGLARE, hmmph-ing @CHITTERTONGUE ​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

Sootstar almost didn’t notice Adderpaw looming at her side. Her son, now nearly, if not, as grown as her leans to whisper in her ear. Unsurprisingly, she hardly finds the will for boldly insulting RiverClan’s stand-in-deputy, even if it had been a whisper. What may be shocking to the cats witnessing this scene is that she is not pleased with the gesture rather than her son’s words. Stepping forward she jeers her head into Adderpaw’s shoulder, it’d be far from painful but it was certainly a stern and displeased gesture. Her eyes narrow into a glint to say everything that she could not speak out loud in this setting, ’it is not an apprentice’s place to question where I place my care’. If the nudge to the shoulder didn’t do it, she lashes her tail at the tabby to send him off for good measure. //interacting w/ @Adderpaw and still standing before @Snakeblink

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Cicadastar’s brief touch inspires in Snakeblink a little more confidence, confidence which quickly fades to nothing at the reaction his presence garners. The faint purr, triggered as usual by the faintest physical contact from a friend, is choked to silence as he finds himself face to face with Flycatcher. The Thunderclan deputy goes still as Sunningrock itself — and his mate, who Snakeblink left for dead in the river, stands at his back, glaring hotly at him. Flamewhisker cuts a fearsome figure with her fiery fur standing on end, and she looks so eager to go for his throat that he finds himself cringing back in anticipation for the blow.

But of course she doesn’t; a fight breaking out at the Gathering, especially so close to the Stone, is inconceivable. Still he expects a confrontation of some sort which doesn’t happen: she just walks away, looking agitated.

His relief is short-lived as the reason for her departure makes itself clear: Sootstar steps out of the shadows, eyeing him like she cannot believe his presence there. Snakeblink feels his own short pelt bristling at the attention. She asks after Smokethroat; not, he thinks, out of concern for the true Riverclan deputy. The apprentice shadowing her — her son, he gathers from the similar scent clinging to them both, underneath the moor stink — tacks on his own comment, and somehow manages to look Snakeblink over with even more disgust and contempt than his mother did.

Honestly, he cares less about the insult to his clanmate than Sootstar’s reaction to it: they both know there’s no love lost between their clans, let alone between her and Smokethroat in particular. Why pretend otherwise? Or is it an apprentice talking out of turn that has her reacting this way? She ought to reward him for his rare honesty.

He did not feel particularly cooperative before, and that little display certainly doesn’t help. Still, some sort of answer must be given. He resists the urge to glance around for his clanmates or at the Thunderclan deputy near him and stares at the two Windclanners, cold-eyed. ”Smokethroat is in a better place now,” he says, his voice carefully neutral but his tone strongly suggesting it’s none of her business.

Stars, how Snakeblink wishes he could be where Smokethroat is right now: safe at home, surrounded by clanmates and not cats who would gladly see him dead.
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——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• Interacting with @SOOTSTAR and @Adderpaw , anxiously noticing @Flycatcher and @Flamewhisker
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 42 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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​

 

[OAKFANG]

don't try to rush your enemies .​

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

Oakfang hummed, helm tilted to peer at the gathering cats with a curious glint of amber optics, frosted muzzle crinkling. “A relief to hear.” He mused, tone quiet while shifting his attention to the other. It seemed their warning wasn’t in vain, giving the cats enough time to prepare before they paved the way. “It seems not all went to waste on that night.” He mumbled, willowy tail swishing.

His lips quirked in amusement, amber optics crinkling at the comment. Oakfang couldn’t help but agree, gaze lingering on the gathering leaders with a critical hue. It truly was a wonder how the gatherings didn’t end in a bloodbath, regardless of StarClan given the tension amongst the clans. Certainly a story to tell. He thought.

He laughed, shaking his helm. “A shame, but it is not.” A frost muzzle crinkled. “One of the many I’ve bore witness to. Always a thrilling experience to see when the paw drops.” The warrior mused. “Offers some peculiar entertainment, especially those who’s first gathering is the mess that this will be.”

@Howlfire ​

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thought speech​

 

[cygnetstare]

♱—— the mutt meets her simmering viscera stare, settled up on the deputies' perch where he does not deserve to be. cygnetstare betrays her own promise; she breaks that viscious stare and settles into the milling crowd, a patchwork of pigmentless eyes and white-freckled smoke fur. a swaying skeleton, nearly, bearing the gruesome healed wounds curling around her neck to prove it; they curve under it like a jagged smile. a faint displeasure is spread over the wax mask of her face, a distaste for the rising warmth of bodies and mingled stenches. she searches vaguely for some oasis, some conversation, something useful.

she finds it in an odd place, stalking from the weaving crowd towards a small gathering within the gathering: two shadowclanners and a vaguely familiar skyclanner with a streaky pelt like overbright blood. any den in a windstorm, she thinks wryly, carrying her shambling form towards them. cygnetstare prefers not to converse with the marsh-beasts when she must help it; in this case, one of the skyclanners is actually a better choice, so she only gives smogmaw and chittertongue a pale and withering glance. milkweed eyes turn on the sky-thing, appraising, remembering—their healer, she now recalls, cutting such a different silhouette from their own.

"makin' some interestin' conversation over here, are ya?" it's a dry mew, conversational, distasteful. they break into the dialogue without thought, with an oddness cured in soil. she is strange but she can be friendly, at least under the light of the moon's eye.

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┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:

• ooc: talking primarily to @DAWNGLARE, barging into his conversation with @CHITTERTONGUE and @smogmaw
  

• 

• ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze) she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 16 ☾s —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan. —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• battle stuff goes here for fights

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