we all fall through || attempted joiner

[selby]

ocean breathes salty​

Though loner life had its perks, as Selby grew older, he found it less and less worthwhile to protect his personal freedoms at the expense of company from other cats. Sure, other loners were friendly (when prey was bountiful, at least), but they were generally unreliable. Throughout his journey through the wilderness, he found himself craving routine more and more. Other cats spoke of groups in the woods. Be careful, though, he was warned. They're not always friendly.

Well, thought he, no one was friendly all the time. And a change of pace seemed a wonderful idea to him, so he picked up and began wandering to where he knew the Clans would be. He had heard there were five, but as far as a preference among them, he had none. The first border he found had a strong scent mark at the beginning of it, strong enough to make him balk. The idea occurred to him that he may be better received with a gift, so Selby went out and caught a plump rabbit. He brought it back to the spot he had come to before, careful to stay on the other side of the border.

In the distance on either side, Selby could see the rivers. Beyond one of them, lay a campsite. He sat with the prey at his feet, tail politely curled over his paws as he waited.​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Petalnose]

I FIND COMFORT IN THE SOUND AND THE SHAPE OF THE HEART ⋆⁺₊⋆

Petalnose had scented the loner scent on her way back to camp, immediately tracking back with hostility burning through her body. Her legs were almost stiff with anger, but they were also tense and ached from lack of sleep. She had barely been sleeping since her night terror, and it had tended to make the she-cat more short-tempered towards everyone. They had already dealt with Windclan and Thunderclan, she hoped her clan didn't have to clash with rogues either. If this was a rogue. The scents of the two were hard to differentiate, no scent of clan. There was a possibility it could be an exile or spy.

Petalnose made herself known without being seen after she had made a secret peek, bounding throughout the brush. There was just one from what she had scented and could see, something she could possibly take on herself if there was trouble. "I hope there's a good reason you're here or I'll rip you to shreds!" warned Petalnose in almost a sarcastic sing-song way. She emerged from a bush, her gaze settling on Selby carefully, her thrashing tail loosening up with neutrality as she read his body language. Polite. Calm. There was also fresh kill to be offered. However, her gaze was still suspicious and her body was still stiff. She wouldn't let her guard down by seeing his body language and the peace offering, all cats needed to be on guard the whole time. Especially after the two battles. "What's your business here?" She demanded, not sounding of question. "Now we don't take in spys so there better be a good explanation too." She sneered, narrowing her eyes towards the dark tabby Tom.

[⋆]​

​

 

[CICADASTAR]

there is a vicious snarl that snaps through the murky riverlands air as he approaches — blue fire first erupting from the dark of storm - swaying reed and tall grass. petal nose was already on defense and he follows suit, rips his gnarled maw back to reveal long, arching canines. they were injured. two back to back assaults, and it shows. scabbing wounds layer his back, shoulders, ache over old scars ribboning his belly, “ youve a mouse’s breath to explain why you sit so boldly at my borders, outsider. “ they’d had enough tragedy — any sign of insolence or threat, he would send his warriors in attack. given the rigid arch of his back, the violent bristling of jutting mottled fur along the angles of his spine, curled tail a great, stormy bottlebrush at his too - tall heels. there is a wild, wide - eyed fury in his eyes, pallid and frozen over with misery all too recent. the tom was calm, compliant, not a whisker out of place — but the leader had lost one of his closest friends only sunrises ago. an unknown feline lazing at the outskirts of his land, waiting patiently, he sees only as a bitter spit in the face. a threat. disrespect. he sits here now, muscles relaxed, paws treading his scent markers with a . .

“ what is this — what — where did you catch that? “ it’s ripped from his maw in an almost incredulous way ; while petalnose had greeted him in sarcasm, sing - songy, the man was almost feral in his suspicion. a rabbit . . a rabbit. windclan scum. windclan scum, windclan scum, windclan scum — had he come from the moors, or had he simply stolen the hare from them? was it their hare? was he so blatantly lounging at their borders with prey caught from their own land? with all the open disrespect from windclan and thunderclan, his muddled mind could only assume so, “ thunderclan may have picked at our lands, may have made dirt on us at our lowest — but stars be forsaken i will not give way to petty loners! “ the leader howls, voice low and thunderous, aiming to attract more of his warriors from the undergrowth. he is all rage, all assumptions and fury, “ fremder, intruder! “ another windclan exile? a thunderclan refugee singing apology for their clans actions? a skyclanner, simpering at him for his inability to help? all too likely, all too likely. what was the likelihood of them being a spy? petalnose had said as much, what if he ran back to wherever he’d come and collected more paws to wipe them out? to control the river — just as buck had wanted to. he wants to throw up, “ get off of my lands.”

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i. HI IM SO SORRY hes pretty crazy and paranoid right now. i love your character so much aaa but we aren’t accepting outside joiners currently : (
  
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ 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. 43 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
•  

​

 

[selby]

ocean breathes salty​

//so valid! he’ll leave without too much more trouble, he’s just a little persistent

Despite his companion’s warnings about the occasional hostility of the clans, Selby was unprepared for the aggression he was met with. The first feline wasn’t too bad, but the moment he opened his maw to explain himself, another tom appeared and all apparent hell broke loose.

As the rabbit was snatched away from him, Selby cautiously backpedaled a few steps, cautious to keep his fur lying flat despite his anxiety. “My name is Selby,” he answered quickly, fighting to keep his voice steady and scent calm. “I wanted to join, but I meant no disrespect. I did not enter your lands and will not without invitation. I caught the rabbit in the flats behind your territory, as an offering.”​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[RAVENSONG]

The frenzied screaming is what brought Ravenpaw over, fur bristling for the worst. He could never tell which situation called from Cicadastar was a matter of life or death itself. He approached as the cat began to speak and his heart dropped.

Selby.

The name whispered by his mother's lips as she cradled him in her paws. A name Ravenpaw, then Ivan, could only dream of seeing ever.

Normally compliant while still festering with anger underneath, Ravenpaw took this chance to step forward. "I recognize him."

His gut writhed and he slowly, hesitantly stepped forward in front of the black tabby, raising his head. Selby's oriental features reflected in Ravenpaw's face—the half of him he had always imagined. Fully-grown now and rather tall, the half maine coon stood up straight, WindClan-marred scars still fresh over his face.

"This cat is no WindClan cat, no ThunderClan cat, no kittypet, no cat with ill intentions, or one who poses a threat to our way of life." He began, casting a look over his shoulder at Selby. It was a stern look—a look he hoped the older cat would take to and understand what needed to be done. His life could be ended in the split of a hair. Ravenpaw turned back to his leader, fur laid flat.

"This cat is my father. He promised to bring me to the forest when I was young—when I was just a kit… He knew what it meant to be wild and free, and he wanted me to taste it because my mother was a kittypet, shut in by her Twolegs. But one day, after promising previously, he did not come back to me." He swallowed, green-blue eyes warbling. "He never returned—maybe he knows... But, to fulfill my father's wish, I came here, an orphan, without him. I later learned that was the day of the Great Battle, and so I feared the worst."

"Now he is back. I can hardly believe it." He breathed, raising his eyes up. "I was gifted a chance to train as a warrior, I know that. I would not be here without my father's inspiration. This is my supplication for his cause. Please."

For someone who had felt so terribly ostracized and as an outsider the whole of his training—this chance to see his father, to gain some sort of grasp of his identity, the opportunity was tantalizing.


​

 

[dovethroat.]

Much like Ravenpaw (albeit, for once, not with him), Dovepaw had come over because their leaders tone and volume level seemed to indicate that perhaps someone had died, or perhaps everyone else in the clan had all in one moment spontaneously burst into flame. It was a fifty-fifty shot, really.

When he arrived, however, he was surprised—or perhaps confused—to see a lone man standing at the border. And for how naïve and perhaps immature Dovepaw could be in several of his supposedly trained skills, he could tell that the tom smelled basically of nothing. The only hint they had to go off of was a rabbit, which indicated the potentiality of WindClan ties.

Even for the emotional Dovepaw, who seemed to have gained a streak of resentment over their embarrassment and disgrace, was not filled with anger at the sight of an outsider, let alone one basically holding a sign that held WindClan. He was confused, as he was before. And then Ravenpaw began to speak, and the confusion leaned toward something like wonder or astonishment: there were many words that existed and not one captured the full scale of the nuance. He was intrigued, but also frightened in a sense. He did not know a lot of the specifics, and he certainly did not know that Ravenpaw's father was still around.

Intelligent enough to realize that talking would do nobody any good in this situation, he remained silent and a few paces behind Ravenpaw with similarly worried-looking eyes. Probably less worried. It wasn't his dad, after all. But who knows? Dovepaw was a notoriously softhearted individual.

[⋆]​

​

 

[CICADASTAR]

by his surprise, it’s ravenpaw that stands — nearly a warrior but still a child, made even more so as his mouth opens. half kittypet, and it shows in the way his heart pours from his tongue. so aloof, it was a shock to see him act so forwardly, despite revealing his brain had been replaced with fish eggs. half kittypet, and that half was winning out. the apprentice stands before him, tries, but cicadastar is looming, still pointed with anger, and it lashes from his maw with no hesitation, “ ravenpaw, unless you’re intending on joining him, fall into line. “ a hiss, unforgiving and void of its usual warmth, “ do not ever step before me again, do you understand? where is your mentor? “ fury. did they not perceive a threat, after the attacks they’ve had? we’re the injuries they bore not enough? his argument slowly sinks in, and his tail lashes and something akin to sympathy sparks within him — quickly overshadowed by anger, “ you claim to have not seen him since the great battle, an abandonment since your kithood — and with no prior knowledge, you still stand by that he would never have ill will? “ the leader responds sharply, icy eyes glaring down the slope of his nose at the apprentice. he’d been an orphan, as well. he knows the sting of family once lost, but they could afford no more risks. not now.

“ we’ve taken three hits in a quarter moon — are willing to bet the safety, the lives of your clanmates you have grown with, on your long lost kin? you do not know this cat! “ windclan, windclan’s second patrol, thunderclan. they could take no more, not when they were continuing to rebuild their camp at the same time. but here he was — just as hyacinthbreath had, squalling over two windclan exiles, he had done the same. they had been wound - laden, beaten ragged and begging for help, and he had said no. cruel as it may seem, he could not put the lives of his warriors at stake. not for an apprentice, and even less his wayward father, “ blood means little when riverclan is the one who raised you, ravenpaw. you’ll do well to remember that. “ long limbs take him aside the maine coon mix, stepping past him to view the stranger again. he’d no shame — should he have recognized his son, the leader would have no qualms with having scolded him in his presence. one of them had to tend an orphaned child, after all. he’d never been a wonderful kitsitter, and the river phantom would not be starting today.

“ selby. “ his mouth does not curl in disgust, but it is a close thing. what was a selby? a kittypet name, be wouldn’t doubt. he says nothing despite the gut - instinct pull of disgust the thought triggers. his anger had bubbled to a kindling irritation, ravenpaw’s outburst having taken the wind from his ignited sails, “ riverclan does not welcome joiners. if you come as peacefully as you say, you’ll do well to try skyclan, just downstream. “ blazestar took all the strays he could, it seemed. the riverclan leader, however, remained bristled — a warning. keep moving.

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i.
  
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ 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. 43 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• "speech"
  

​

 

[Petalnose]

I FIND COMFORT IN THE SOUND AND THE SHAPE OF THE HEART ⋆⁺₊⋆

Even though she had already expected hostility from her leader, it took her aback to the extent of it. She gazed over her shoulder temporarily on him and then quickly back on the stranger. Her fur bristled and her tail lashed again, taking a step towards Selby as in preparation for Cicadastar to command her to do something. Her body was prepared to either chase off or attack, intent eyes staring down Selby, challenging him to challenge her leader.

And then her gaze was interrupted by Ravenpaw jumping Infront of the stranger. She furrowed her brows, "Ravenpaw.." her growl was then cut off from scolding the apprentice for stepping before their leader. Then the black coated apprentice explained. So this cat was his father? She shot Ravenpaw a judging look, but there was a gleam of sympathy traced within it. She knew what not having a family around was like, barely having an identity to cling onto. No one to trust. But then again, it could be worse. It really could. She would think she had worse. Her mother and brother weren't even alive due to her careless consequences of her actions, who knows what happened to her father. However, Cicadastar had seemed to speak her mind, they already had too much on their shoulders to deal with any risk. What if Selby was secretly helping their enemies? Who knew what his motives were even if he wasn't. Ravenpaw could secretly meet him from time to time for all she cared and see him as Skyclan passed if the black tabby felt like joining them. She wasn't a fan of risking her clan's life.

Petalnose closed in as Cicadastar told the Tom to leave again, there was a softer gaze on Ravenpaw but it was still hard, demanding him to move. She then had a more harsh look on the stranger as she closed in, "You heard him.." she growled coldly.

[⋆]​

​

 

[selby]

ocean breathes salty​

No sooner had he spoken than another cat made himself known. Selby bristled just slightly as the tom claimed to recognize him, fairly certain that he had never seen him before in his life. But the more he spoke, the loner realized that his words had kernels of truth to them.

A name bubbled to the top of his head. Hannah. She had had kittens? Head spinning, Selby felt his jaw go slack. The look was not out of place, considering the circumstances. Ravenpaw’s look urged him to play along, but he could find no words.

Burning shame bloomed in his chest. If he had known… oh, if he had known! And it seemed his son’s (!!!!) superiors were not particularly sensitive to his cause. They wanted him to leave. Judging by their body language, insisting on his presence may lead to a fight, and Selby would be badly outnumbered. Still, he could not force his leaden limbs to flee.

“Wait,” he rasped through his rapidly tightening throat. “Wait- I just-.. I need.. please.” And then he was moving. Against his better judgement, Selby moved to stand in front of his son, crossing the border if necessary. He examined his face, the two’s whiskers mere inches from touching. Sure, he could see reflections of his own face in Ravenpaw’s expression (his large ears, the slope of his nose, his coloration), bht his son was equal part his mother with his thicker fur and stature. And my goodness, was he big. Selby realized that if his son wasn’t currently taller than him, he likely would be soon.

Standing so close to him, Selby found he was no more verbose than before. He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally landing on something to say.

“I’m so sorry.”​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[iciclefang]

The scent of a non-RiverClan cat at their border has Iciclepaw's normally-smooth fur spiked at the shoulders. Her body is still sore from fights with both WindClan and ThunderClan back-to-back, and the tortoiseshell thinks to herself that if she sees another cat on their territory again she will go properly insane.

The dark-pelted stranger who stands stock-still in their wetlands has already been confronted by both Petalnose and Cicadastar, has already been told to leave. Iciclepaw stands beside them in solidarity, prepared to launch herself at the outsider if given the opportunity. Her blood begins to pulse beneath her patched pelt, her mind racing, when Ravenpaw of all cats appears to speak up.

"My father," he says, humbling himself, begging for this stranger that not even he knows. Iciclepaw's pale eyes narrow, but it's not her place to say anything against Ravenpaw. Cicadastar spits that RiverClan has themselves to think of, giving this trespasser another warning to go. Petalnose reiterates the warning, but this black-furred fool crosses into their territory so he can whisper to Ravenpaw.

Iciclepaw gives a hiss of fury, unsheathing her claws. "Have you no sense! Our leader has spoken! Leave!" She swipes in the loner's direction with unsheathed claws, though it's more a threat than anything. "I'll chase you out myself for half a fish scale!"​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[WOLFGLADE]

જ➶ They can not believe the scene that they have come upon. His eyes widen sharply as he stares at the stranger, trying to pry his way into Riverclan and what is worse yet Ravenpaw vouching for the stranger. Their ears pull back against their skull and they bare sharp teeth. As said before this tom is nothing but a stranger to Riverclan, a poison trying to worm into their ranks. His tail sways sharply back and forth and they come to stand beside Icicle with a dangerous look in those eyes. He has no issues with shedding blood to protect his home. They have seen too much harm come to their home and he will back Iciclepaw as theh flick their tail with clear agitation. "Get lost, we don't want you here. So see to it that you leave now. Our leader has said as such."

Cicadastar knew what was best and another stranger in their midst is not what is best for them. His eyes narrow then as he unsheathes his claws, waiting.​

 

[RAVENSONG]

He listened to what Cicadastar has to say, but in truth behind wide eyes, it filters out one ear and the next. It's the only way he knows he can steel his temper and emotions—if he does not let it get to him. He knows one day it may be different—he knows if another brother of Cicadastar's happens upon the border, he would not be calling him stranger. He knows they would not be greeted with screams.

Selby knows which parts are untrue, but to Ravenpaw, who so desperately craved the father-empty shaped hole in his life, wanted to believe the story with every cell of his being. Standing face to face with him now, he wished he could tell him everything. You and I, we were dealt faulty paws. One day it will make sense.

He senses his father step over the scent line and it shatters his heart. A fatal move, a foolish one. He can't stand the look in Selby's eyes. "Forgive me." He whispers, before immediately raising a left paw, claws unsheathed and aimed to swipe it across his father's face. It's true, he justifies it to himself. He doesn't know Selby. He should want to have nothing to do with him. A part of him feels this way, but the loneliness is like a black hole in his spirit.

It's better for him to strike the loner trespassing. He would never forgive himself if Iciclepaw, Wolfglade, or any other struck him.

Ravenpaw would wait for a reaction, then turn around and make a sudden move toward Dovepaw, pressing his forehead into the other apprentice's chest in an uncharacteristic display.

​

 

[dovethroat.]

In an instant, Dovepaw's jaw—deathly tightened, as wound-up as a drum—falls utterly limply. The implication of a threat to Ravenpaw stirs something within Dovepaw's throat, but it dies before it can go anywhere meaningful. In that instant, he decides where he lies—what he must believe to feel at peace with himself. And from the looks of things, it does not seem like his philosophy will be any amount of welcome at home at all. Because, unlike with Ravenpaw, this was his home. It was a fact that existed in a static state of blithely noncomplex nature.

At Iciclepaw in particular—an equal, designated as such by her very name—a protest very nearly forms completely in his mouth, but it is drowned out in his mind by the sorrow in Selby's eyes, the scratch of the throat in Cicadastar's remarks, the pointless supplementation of whatever it was Wolfglade said. Rather than shock, his chest began to bubble with the bile of anger. This was not a WindClanner, this was not an intruder from ThunderClan, and they knew that. It was not as if Dovepaw did not also loathe WindClan—he did—but—

it was hard to describe. And while perhaps Dovepaw ought to give them the benefit of the doubt, he saw no reason to extend that grace to them. The only action to successfully draw a sound—a choked yelp—from his throat was Ravenpaw making the decision to take a shot at his father. It fell on deaf ears, and Dovepaw was not able to stop anything. He never was.

Shocked, he hardly reacted at first when Ravenpaw pressed his face into his chest. And after a few moments, the feeling in his heart melted and gave way to disgust. And further disgust, because he did not know who that ought to be directed at. Who to be disgusted with.

Wordlessly and shakily, he rested his chin atop Ravenpaw's head and pressed his nose lightly into his fur.

[⋆]​

​

 

[selby]

ocean breathes salty​

The moment he crossed the border, Selby knew in his mind that he had made a terrible error. Still, he could not make himself turn away from his son. The hostility that immediately followed was impossible to ignore, however, and the loner was able to narrowly avoid the swipe of a paw.

What he could not avoid, though, was the slash at his face from his son. The change was so sudden that Selby hardly had time to shut his eyes, feeling the harsh sting of claws drag across his face. Though Ravenpaw was a similar size to him, he knew he would be able to take the inexperienced apprentice in a fight.

Despite this, he made no move to defend himself. Selby opened his eyes, blinking blood away from him. Only now did he process the words spoken before the swipe. He took one step backwards, then two. “Always,” he whispered, barely more than a breath. And already he was not angry.

How could he be?

Another step backwards. He was on the other side of the border now. He could no longer hide the scent of his discomfort. Selby took a moment to commit the sight of his progeny to memory as he ran towards his friend. He tasted the air, hoping to learn the intricacies of his scent. Would he be able to remember the sound of his voice? How would he see him again? Panic surged. Wait, wait, wait. In his eyes, Selby had only just become a father. The idea of leaving felt so unbelievably wrong. He would have never left the Twolegplace at all if he had known Hannah was with kit.

He couldn’t leave, but to stay would prove suicide. He could easily dodge the attacks of inexperienced youngsters, but definitely not their elders, and definitely not all three of them at once. If he stayed, he would certainly never see Ravenpaw again.

The two choices left him frozen, breaths coming in short, panicked bursts. Blood dripped into his eyes at an agonizingly slow pace, too fast to avoid the sting but too slow to predict. A crow broke the silence with a piercing caw, and the startle was enough to break Selby from his trance.

He ran the other way, tripping over his own feet in an effort to get away from the hostile clanners. Though he wanted nothing more than just one more glance of his son, he forced himself to keep going. ​

✦ ★ ✦​