camp This I Vow || new year resolutions

[Frostbite]

Everything is just fucking horrible lately. Too much has happened in a short amount of time and it has worn on every soul in this marsh. He feels pitiful and weak every time something happens that he cannot do anything about. This clan is in tatters, worn and ragged and nothing that has happened lately has helped the feeling of hopelessness that bubbles inside him. But Frostbite does not want to give up. This clan doesn't have to be miserable. There has to be a way to turn their luck around.

Leafbare has yet to reach it's worst point. If things continue as they are, this clan isn't going to make it for long.

So, Frostbite comes back to camp with a bunch of sticks. As many as he can carry in his mouth. He repeats this a few times until he has enough for his purpose. And once he's done, he sits before the pile and looks around.

"Everyone, gather round." He calls to those present.

When his clan mates gather, he takes a breath.

"This cycle of seasons, especially leafbare, have been hard on us. Much has happened, this leafbare. Death, treachery, and hunger have dug their claws into us hoping we will give in, hoping we will suffer and die." He starts off.

"But as I've said... Shadowclan is resilient. The marsh has given us it's worst, and we still persevere. The only thing we lack... Is unity." He continues.

"Each of you, take a stick from the pile. This stick will represent all your pain, grief, rage and hatred. Your grudges, your misgivings, your ill thoughts. Everything negative you have in your heart." He says, taking a stick himself.

After everyone has taken a stick, he continues.

"I want you to break that stick into pieces. As brutal or gently as you want. And above the remains of what weighs on your hearts, I want you to look forward. Look to the future that has yet to be decided, that we will step into together. I know some things cannot be so easily moved on from, forgiven or forgotten...That isn't what I want from you. What I want is for you to make room in your heart for new growth, just as a forest heals from a fire." He says.

"Only together we can grow and heal. I want us to take this moment to look at each other. Forget your grievances. Make vows to each other to protect, care and comfort each other. Because in making these vows to each other, we are making these vows to Shadowclan."

He looks at the stick before him and brings forth all the anger and hatred he has ever felt to the forefront of his mind. All the memories that have hurt him, all the times he wanted to give up. Memories form not just Shadowclan, but from beforehand as well. He was a cold and cruel cat when he still lived in the mountains. For all the reminiscing he does of home, his most prominent feelings of the place were abandonment, loneliness, uncertainty, anger, hatred, and fear. It was time to let go of those days. It was time to let go of the part of him that kept clinging to his failures here in Shadowclan. Today, he will look forward.

He brings his paw down upon the stick with aloud snap. He takes a breath and looks to the cat beside him. @Willowburn is a cat he does not know well, but that doesn't matter right now.

"You are a good warrior, Willowburn. You are a boon to this clan. You have my word, that in times of strife, that I will be there for you." He says, giving him a headbump on the shoulder.

Needledrift catches his eye and he chooses to focus on her, next. " @Needledrift , you helped save this clan from certain death. I promise to you that it will not be in vain. You are a valued warrior of this clan, and I am here for you whenever you need me." He continues. He steps forward to give his friend a light hug. "And I swear that you and Ferndance's children will be safe here. Granitepelt and Siltcloud are gone, but the mark they left on us remains. I understand Ferndance's fears. And I am swearing to you, and by extension, her, that I will help get rid of these fears by helping this clan heal, so that what happened never again comes to pass." He will not let monsters like Siltcloud and Granitepelt have the chance to fester and grow in this clan again. He lets go of her and settles back in his spot.

Beside him is @POPPYPAW , and he offers her a soft smile. "And I promise that you and your siblings will be protected. All of our apprentices deserve our love and protection. To neglect them is to neglect our future." He says, wrapping his tail around her and giving her a gentle lick on the head.

"From this moment forward, we must be better for our clan. For those we have lost, for those we can yet save." ​

 

[Willowburn]

THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
A rough year indeed. Willowburn guessed it would be wise to gander favour with StarClan by sending prayers to all that had fallen during the past 12 moons. Though more importantly he wasn't among the dead, so he supposed he could count his blessings. It would have been a bitter loss if he had been murdered.

The idea of spending the day reclining with his thoughts was soon enough interrupted by Frostbite as a call to gather was made. The collection of sticks certainly had him stumped, though he wouldn't lie that he was curious. The tom eyed the pile before he cast his gaze back towards Frostbite as he gave his little speech. Willowburn was humoured by the notion of using sticks to embody the negatives of their lives and bringing about the ruin of them. Not wishing to put all of his clanmate's efforts to waste he opted to take one of the sticks so he could break it between his paws over a small stone. It was actually rather satisfying to say the least.

"Oh you flatter me, Frostbite. And you can consider me by your side too, my friend." The tabby purred as he accepted the bump to the shoulder. It made him hold his head a little higher than normal, not that he ever slouched. Still, he found himself filled with greater confidence and pride.

- ⋆ -​

​

 

[SINGEGLARE]

*+:｡.｡ Singekit was probably not one of the cats Frostbite meant to invite into this little circle of twig-breaking and complimenting, but the little tom approached anyway. Everything had been fucking horrible lately. Horrible and horrifying. From Laurelpaw and Halfpaw being taken, to Granitepelt and Siltcloud's betrayal, to the many attacks and...comfreypaw's killing, and Singekit watched it all with wide eyes, quickly hardening to the shadows that were creeping closer and closer to him and his family. Sin had many reasons for wanting to become an apprentice now, from being bored in camp all day to wanting badly to rejoin his former den-mates in the apprentice's hut. But another reason he didn't want to put too much thought into was the desperation he felt to stop feeling so helpless.
His little claws reveal themselves as he pushes them from their sheathes, flexing them into the hard partially frozen
ground. He's angry, and scared, and wants so badly to not have to keep waking up to find another one of his clanmates being dragged into camp bleeding, or crying, or dead. He doesn't want one day to wake up and find that that clanmate is his mom or sibling.

So he looks up with glowing aquatic blue eyes, his chest alighting with passion as Frostbite's words ring in his sharply pointed ears. Shadowclan is resilient. We preserve!
He doesn't entirely understand the metaphor Frostbite is laying out - how is breaking sticks supposed to inspire unity? But the boy is swept away by the tom's fervor - by the picture of hope he paints! Singekit isn't particularly close to many, if any, of his clanmates, and he's still not entirely sure he wants to worry about more cats outside of his mom and siblings, but it's hard not to want to as he watches Frostbite speak his gratitude to the three cats he's mentioned.

Singekit, thus, pulls his claws out of the soil and steps towards the pile of sticks.


Picking one up, he shoots Frostbite a cautious glance as he worries the tom is about to tell him off for participating in an adult-only ceremony. But if Frostbite doesn't stop him, then Singekit would step a bit aways, giving room to anyone else who wants to grab a stick as he gazes down at his own. Channel all your hatred and ire, then follow Frostbite's lead and replace it with gratitude, ey? Singekit mulls it over for a moment, then places the stick down.

He thinks about Halfpaw and Laurelpaw being kit-napped. Thinks about Yellowkit, Ashenpaw, Snowpaw and others making fun of him. Thinks about the dad who never showed up for him and Swallowkit- a dad he doesn't need but still hates. About Granitepelt who's become a kitten-tale monster, and Siltcloud who's become a killer and yet lived comfortably at one point among Shadowclan's ranks. He thinks about the moons it's taking for him to become an apprentice, about Comfreypaw's body, about Sprucepaw dying and Ferndance getting yelled at, about cats talking about Fern and Silt's kits burdening the clan, about Chervilpaw being so sick she might die. About the looming storm of Windclan, the hungry unknown that creeps like a stormcloud over Singekit's head. All the things he that he doesn't understand, and can't understand, but has watched unfold while he sits impatiently at the nursery entrance, begging for his chance to finally face it.
Lest it eat him whole.

Singekit rises suddenly onto his hind paws, and as hard as he can muster, slams his front paws down as hard as he can onto the stick. The crunch is satisfying, the splinters that tear at his paw pads justified. He blinked in surprise at how easy it was to break, although unsure why he'd assumed it'd be difficult in the first place. Shaking the thought out of his head, the boy pulls a splinter from his paw pad and licks away the red bead that follows suit. He's small, and too young, but he broke this stick full of hate and fear and ire and unforgiveness - that'd gotta mean something, right?

He thinks for a moment, then finally speaks, " @Swallowkit. , you're annoying and an awful sibling to share a nest with, but ill keep you safe, no matter what, Mamma too" he vows, feeling his cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment as he confesses such corny lines. But if he wants to help Shadowclan, make it better like Frostbite says, at least this is something, right? He thinks about his biggest enemies, and fumbles, " @Snowpaw. and @ASHENPAW you guys suck and you're both mean to me, but I like that you guys are strong, so you won't die if Siltcloud and Granitepelt try to come back. Um -" now he feels humiliation creeping in, begin to question why he's even doing this, "the clan's better with you guys in it" Awful, bad, finish it, so he adds, "A-and @MIREPURR and @CHILLEDSTAR. you guys AREN'T mean to me so I like you two. You're both really cool. Thanks for saving me, Chilledstar, and I like that you play with me, Mirepurr. and @lilacfur you said I'm gonna be a decent fighter so I vow that I will be! Except ill learn how to shred evil cats instead of just moss, and ill keep you safe! Ill keep everyone, not just my mamma and Swallowkit safe, I promise"

His cheeks are on fire, but he can't tell if that's entirely from embarrassment or from the flames he feels in his chest. It's so unbelievably silly, to participate in this, but he stands firmly by his words. Momma and Swallowkit are always going to be the main two he'll always keep safe, but he doesn't hate his clan. He doesn't want more cats to cry, or fight, or die. He doesn't care that he sometimes gets bullied, or that it's taking forever to be apprenticed, or that everyone is annoying most of the time - Singekit is a shadowclanner, through and through, and he'll grow up to be the best damn Shadowclanner this clan has ever seen!

But Singekit is still Singekit, and after a bit of echoing his own words in his head, he can't help but break from the fluster and grumble, "This is stupid!" in a weak attempt to save face.

*°:⋆ₓₒ Updated 12/14/23

• Happy New Year everyone!! May the next 365 days be excitingly eventful for our cats and peaceful for us players fufu <3
  
  Also I picked cats off the top of my head who've had interesting impacts on Sin's life <3 apologies if you didn't want to be tagged tho ;w;;;;
  
• 
  
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ⚙ Singekit
  ⚙ Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
  ⚙ 2 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
  ⚙ NPCx NPC (brother to Swallowkit)
  ⚙ Shadowclan — Kit
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ⚙ Physically easy | mentally easy
  ⚙ Attack in bold ruddy
  ⚙ Can be power played just ask
  injuries: None currently
  

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

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

---

they... have a lot of negative feelings. this seemed silly, all of it, but they'll indulge. they'll try to be better about it. their emotionless gaze stared at a stick as they thought about everything. the deaths. the murders. kidnappings. foxes. bears. dogs. owls. the famine. the cold. the hunger. everything that shadowclan has been through. everything they go through. still they stand but they know that not everyone believes in them. they wished it wasn't like this here but if they're being honest, it's hard to be positive when it felt like the stars were against them.

but they're willing to try, at least. picking up a thinner stick in their jaws, they snapped it in half, spitting the rest of the splinters off their tongue, with a flick of their tail. they toss it to the side, wirh a huff. so much anger still remains. they wonder... will it ever go away? will they ever feel good about what they're doing? it doesn't feel like they're going to. they don't know. their ears perk at the sound singekit, blinking at his words before giving a gentle lick to the kit's ear.

"you are gonna be a good apprentice and even better warrior, kit. remember that. we shadowclanners always are."

as long as they're loyal. they hoped the rest of them would be. another betrayal may make them fall down the rabbit hole permanently.
​

 

[smogstar]

ShadowClan is the clan equivalent to a piece of carrion so picked-clean of its meat and gristle, all that remain are dessicated bones and a deathly odour too difficult to stomach.

It's the shell of what a clan is supposed to be, lacking purpose and cohesion and function as unit. One cannot even jest to say it's a shadow (hilarious) of its former self, for there never was a golden age in its history to reference. Since its inception, this miry nook has been steeped in lies, deceit, and buried bones. It simply comes with the turf, and Smogmaw has long learned to not flinch at the fact.

Only on one occasion had he faltered, a singular lapse, erring him into believing in something more. Halfshade was that lapse. How stunningly quickly had her exaltation burnt out to ash, and reality resumed its yoke upon him. Such is the natural progression. ShadowClan does not accept the beautiful and the wonderful. ShadowClan deconstructs it, decapitates it, and feeds on its marrow.

No point in lamenting about it; the preceding moons have only saw to harden how tried and true the notion is.

Plagues. Kit-nappings. Murders. Exiles. More murders. Attempted murders. Betrayals. Maimings. Divorces. Scandal-ridden litters. Infighting. All they're missing is blackmailing, and perhaps Smogmaw shouldn't rule it out just yet.

So forgive him, do, for approaching Frostbite's cloying game with a highly unconvinced air about his person. Semi-lidded amber eyes, glazed over by resignation, regarded the mound of scattered-about sticks before him. He's not buying the theatrics, and the pseudo-sentiment even less so. Jaw goes slack as clanmates elect to participate, vows spilt from shivering lips providing trivial warmth. It's silly. Incredibly silly. But hey, some folk rely heavily on anecdotal drivel to ground themselves. More power to 'em.

Worn on his lips is the unsightly love-child between a smile and a sneer. Singekit's antics are endearing in their own annoying little way, to the point where the deputy opts to indulge himself a tad. Within moments, a stick lands itself between his teeth, before it's dropped before snow-kissed paws. "This is a nice stick, actually," he mews insipidly, leering up at the lead warrior. A tepid huff leaves his nostrils. "Think I'll keep this one."

How metaphorically tact, holding onto the allegory stick for safe-keeping. Such a clever cookie, Smogmaw.​