pafp whatever happened to the YOUNGyoung LOVERS ♆ Two-leg Bridge

A

Asterkit

Guest

It is cold upon the cobblestone surface now, the warmth that lingered felt as though a lifetime ago; he knew only the breathless chill of the morning. He is too young to think much other than seeking the lost warmth, squirming and mewling in distress at its absence. His name is Asterkit and his siblings are Rosekit and Daffodilkit, recently born to ThunderClan...but they don't know that yet. They are eyes closed and wriggling, unseeing and only concerned with rest and comfort and the scent of milk that was no longer present.
Near the glistening dew covered rocks of the riverside and upon the bridge the three lilac striped and spotted bundles are curled tight within one another, a sphere of warm pelts shuddering against the cooling air. The sound of bird cry rose above the clamorous rushing riverside, but breeze that carried bore only stale scent; RiverClan and ThunderClan mingling together-a twist of fish and pine in a medley of familiarity. It is here, left abandoned, the kittens continue to huddle and not a sign of either parent in sight.
Mintstream, a loyal RiverClanner, missing since the night before. Petaltail, a ThunderClan queen, litter just born and already carried away to meet their estranged father in secret. Neither cat could be detected though their lineage obvious now in each fawn-colored kitten visible. It did not take a genius to realize what had caused the birth of these children, but the mystery of where their parents had gone was another story entirely.

[Ooc]
- Please allow @HOWLINGSTAR & @CICADASTAR to post first. This is private unless you're given permission to post!
This is the HalfClan Litter from THESE adopts, the kits will be split apart between Thunder and River though it will be decided ICly!
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the sun is high, heat blazing despite the wind that ruffles through his bicolored coat. harshest by the riverside, he knows — but as he leads the small group of warriors at his heel, it’s their only hope. mintstream was a strong warrior. over - eager, perhaps, excitable. a dear friend, a mentor to swanpaw, who’s feathered fur had been so puffed out in alarm at her superior’s absence she looked more like a patch of briar. the tom had disappeared, and a search patrol gathered quickly in his wake. they’d lost too many recently, memories of gloompaw, ashpaw flitting behind his minds eye. they would suffer no more tragedies, by the stars. his warriors had suffered enough, and though he’d not the slightest idea why mintstream would venture this far out in the dead of night. once he found him, the curled leader would be livid — when, he thinks. not if.

ivory paws bring him along the shore aside the twoleg bridge, splitting the reed curtain away from the rest of his warriors, though they had certainly seen where he’d gone. rapids beating against nearby stone, birds singing overhead and perhaps it coincidence that he peers so far — that he peers long enough to catch the smallest wriggle of movement across the way. the bridge reeks of windclan, but there is another there. something woodsy, heavy.. his fur bristles with it, fury igniting him alive. thunderclan, the lumbering beasts. respect does not lie here despite how the tabby molly may fumble for it and so he pushes closer, feels water lap at the sharp toes of alabaster paws. there were.. kittens. three of them : all mottled shades of mousy brown and he knows who they belong to within seconds, even without the lingering scent. mintstream. he had been here, though he wasn’t entirely sure how recently. his tail lifts towards the patrol at his back should they draw from the reed, paws bringing him up the arches slope towards fourtrees. not a sound is made, not a breath stirred save for the gentle mrr, mrr of snoozing kittens too young to do much else.

the scent is strongest here beneath the thunderclan reek and his nose twists with it, water dripping from the sharp angles of his face as he leans down, ” little ones.. “ a soft beginning, slow and gentle as not to scare the wriggling things. he does not know how long they’ve been alone, rasping a tongue backward over @Asterkit ‘s ruffled fur, ” what has your father done..? “ they writhe, whine, and cicadastar lifts his head to call a loud, ” come, over here! he’s been here, these are.. “ his children.

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗
  • i. @Hazepaw @rosewater @Tallwave @Lakemoon .
  • ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
    58782460_YqlZfgzWBE3fACI.png
    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​

  • cicadablueoutline.png


  • "speech"
​
 
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She only finds warmth in the siblings curled beside her - a duo of fawn-pelted scraps wriggling beside her own fawn-patched fur. And while the heat that emits from them is comforting, it is different; nothing like the regular warmth she'd so quickly grown used to feeling in her short life.

She is too young to know what caused this change, however. Too young, just a small scrap of fur herself. Too young to know the world she's been born into, who she's been born to, and the climate surrounding the spot she now huddles into with her siblings, as water-chilled air brushes over the three of them.

Uncomfortable, it is, that air. Too cold, her small form wriggling in a clumsy effort to press closer to her littermates, as the soothe of slumber is pulled from her.

Suddenly, a presence is brought into her world - something rumbling, something new. A whining mew escapes the small kit, her form wriggling once more. What remains of the safety of her small world has been disturbed, and the newborn can only seek out her siblings once more.
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With the absence of their mothers warmth, along with their hunger gradually creeping into disturbing their sleep, Rosekit was becoming increasingly restless. Their little kitten thoughts only focused on the two most important things to one their age- food and comfort. Though one could argue they're the same thing. Now, the one that could provide both had left and Rosekit was to rely on their siblings to fulfill their need for warmth.

It worked, for a little while. Rosekit slept through most of the event. Too exhausted and thoroughly milk-drunk before the journey their parents had made to the bridge. Drowsily hanging in the jaws of Mintstream, but that was all they remembered before sleep overtook them. What finally stirred them to a partial-wake was Cicadastar's voice, shouting to his warriors. Rosekit's mouth opened to shout back in a complaining mewl before nestling back into the bodies of Daffodilkit and Asterkit. ​
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"speech"​
 
The disappearance of not only a queen, but also three of the clan's kits had been enough to cause a panicked stir in the camp as soon as the sun had risen. Warriors and apprentices alike had searched every crevice and inspected the camp wall for holes where a predator could have gotten through. All that was found was a faint scent-trail out of camp, one that smelled of milk and kitten-fluff and nursery brambles. Howlingstar herself would round up a quick patrol along with her own apprentice and - stars, she'd forgotten she'd promised to take Sleekpaw for the day while his mentor recovered from being ill. It's alright. The more noses, the better.

The patrol set off at dawn, searching high and low for the missing family before the trail would lead them straight to the river. The tabby begins to grow nervous, evident in the way her tail-tip flicks back and forth. Why would they be so far out in ThunderClan territory, even nearing the border they share with WindClan and RiverClan? Apprehension tugs at her spine as she draws closer to the twoleg bridge and notices a patrol of RiverClanners there. Already, her pelt is bristling and her pace quickens. "What are they doing on the bridge?" She growls lowly to her clanmates, suddenly glad they came to stop this imminent trespassing.

But the RiverClanners aren't moving to trespass; instead, they're crouched over a trio of newborn kits huddled together on the bridge.

ThunderClan kits.

"Stay away from them!" She instinctively yowls, bursting forth with speed to get to the litter as quickly as possible. With her teeth bared, she moves to stand defensively over them with her tail lashing and ears folding back. "RiverClan stoops so low as to invade our camp in the night and steal kits straight from our nursery? Where is Petaltail?" It must be why she's missing; she must have come searching for her kits as soon as she'd noticed they were missing.

// we love misunderstandings!! Someone please correct her sdjfhj
tagging patrolmates @Badgerstrike @KILLDEERCRY ; @Tybalt [Stagstrike] @PEBBLEPAW @Sleekpaw.​
 
WE'RE GETTING LOST! — When the call had come that Petaltail was missing along with her little trio of kits, Killdeercry valiantly leapt to the challenge of discovering where the family had gone. It was completely out of the ordinary for a queen and her newborns to simply vanish. Luckily a trace had been left, not stale enough to cause much trouble. Though as the patrol gradually gained ground from the tracks and scents, Killdeercry had only grown more confused.

Her initial reaction was a seething courage that drove her not to overlook a single stone or branch. Following the tufts of fur that had been snagged, pointing out the sudden turn of pawprints each way. But as she began to notice where they were creeping closer to, smoke burned at her throat. The stony bridge was in their sights, and at Howlingstar's growl her hackles raise and her tail is fluffed.

"No!" The chocolate she-cat hissed, blundering after the tabby.

"What did you fish-faces do to her? Shove her off the edge? StarClan should kill you where you stand for going such atrocious lengths to harm ThunderClan." Killdeercry snarled, claws flexing and scoring at the stone beneath her.— tags​
 
Rosewater had many thoughts when it came to her clanmates. She had a fondness for many of them, even if she often kept to herself. Mintstream, while not a friend, Rosewater could consider herself to have a decent fondness. Enough to offer to join the patrol when the tom turned up missing. They had arrived at the bridge, a creation by the twolegs, likely much like the ones her family resided with many moons ago. And yet, amidst the mixed scents of Windclan, Thunderclan and Riverclan, Mintstream or the Thunderclanner were nowhere to be found. No, what was found was a trio kits, barely a day old. They were so small, probably the smallest little ones that the tortoiseshell smoke had seen. "Where is their mother..?" She trilled softly in concern as she joined Cicadastar. While concern remained for the missing Mintstream, she couldn't suppress the concern for the kits, whether they were the missing tom's or not.

Yet, her ears pricked at enraged yowls and the surge of Thunderclan scent. She blinked at the accusations, confusion replacing her worried expression. Glancing at her leader, she took a moment before stepping forward to address the tabby leader. She knew of her leader's explosive temper, and this situation needed some delicacy that wouldn't be able to come forth with accusations and misunderstandings in the air. "My lady," She spoke, flicking her tail as she maintained a polite tone. Their clan relations were as tense as ever. "We haven't stepped foot into the woodlands of Thunderclan. We found the little ones here with no queen in sight. And we didn't do anything to this Petaltail either." She corrected, dipping her head as she spared a glance at her clanmates and leader. She had no idea if it'd be safe to mention the missing Mintstream, though it seemed nearly as likely that his disappearance potentially tied into the thunderclanner's missing queen and her current trio of kits that were alone. Oh, this was so concerning.​

[ fight fate or see it through — ♡ ]​
 

image0.jpg
LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
Moon-dipped paws glide aimlessly over the grass, droplets of morning dew still clinging to the blades before being shaken in her wake.
Despite her ever-burning fear of rushing water, she found the cold pin-pricks on her toes refreshing, especially when the sun already promised another warm day from where it hung so low in the sky.
She’s ready to pull ahead on her own as usual, not interested in idle chat with her patrol mates, but Cicadastars urgent call is enough to bring her to a quick pause before she comes bounding forward, azure eyes flickering to and fro as she searched the surroundings.
The scent of milk and Thunderclan is almost overwhelming- but no, there is Riverclan scent, muffled, but there.
Before she can say anything, her grandmothers voice booms all too close, and the silver warrior is forced a step back when the tabby leader stands over the kits, passionately accusing them from where she spoke.
Lakemoons expression bore nothing, only a weary look towards her temperamental leader.
When one of her kins warriors lunges forward as well, Lakemoon pushes herself forwards a mouse length, towering over the Thunderclanner, though no aggression sparked in her demeanor, only warning.
"Watch it." She grimaces at Killdeercry, the concern over Cicadastar’s reaction still pounding in the back of her mind. "We just got here, looking for one of our own. " She jerks her attention towards Howlingstar now, the realization sparking as she glanced at the lost children once more. "Mintstream. Maybe you know him." Though her words seem vague, her tone is deliberate as she gazed upon the kits, a spitting image of their wandered warrior.

"speech"
tags​
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Badgerstrike followed the patrol with eyes open and ears pointed. Petaltail couldn't have gone far, right? Where could she be? Why had she left with her kits? Had something happened?

She worried for the queen and her kits.

Seeing Riverclan cats huddled around the kits lit her on fire. She bore her teeth and bolted after Howlingstar, her claws out and her tail high in the air. Howlingstar accuses them of kidnapping the kits, but she quietly disagrees... How could they manage such a thing with no one finding out? Surely their scents would give them away.

Accusations are thrown, but she remains quiet. What would Cicadastar say? There was more to this story, and she wanted the full picture. She turned her burning gaze to the Riverclan leader to hear what he had to say.
​
 
rosewater takes his side, leaning down to coo gently at the writhing creatures and for a moment, he lets his eyes shift — his maw parts, tasting the air for any sign. the parents scents were staling by the second, as if they’d simply.. vanished. his throat clicks, tail lowering in rousing alarm. another clanmate, gone. it’s only an obnoxious howl that brings his eyes snapping upwards towards its source, bounding over the hill connecting their lands. howlingstar, who attempts to slot herself over the litter he’d leaned forward to warm. in an instant the riverclanner is using the newleaf weight to his advantage to fend her back, arches his back sharply to bristle sharp at the impending thunderclanner to make himself seem large, more imposing. an alabaster paw slams over the light tortoiseshell kit, unsheathed claws cracking noisily against the planks underfoot, ” step one paw further into my territory, howlingstar, and i will rip another life from your throat myself! “ brutally hissed, a blind and vicious threat spat in the aging molly’s face. his figure is looming, ears pinned so flat to his skull they seemed to disappear behind his sleek crown.

riverclan stoops so low as to invade our camp in the night and steal kits straight from our nursery! the leader barks a harsh laugh in her face, tossing his head back towards the patrol with brown furrowed, as if to say ‘ do you hear this? ‘ ” she’s correct. so quick to accuse us of stealing, but these kits were left abandoned on riverclan land — though i do know that’s difficult for your kind to recognize. “ he spats, letting his tail lash wildly at arched heels. petaltail. who was petaltail? he snorts, rolling his eyes away from the accusatory tabby clambering after their leader — but rosewater speaks once more, and he flicks an ear at her politely - worded explanation. while she does so, he simply stares, muzzle low and pallid eyes gleaming near white against the sun, houndlike, ” no queen in sight. quite like a thunderclanner to pass such responsibility off to us, ja? “ he does not wait for agreement, not for word elsewise. lakemoon speaks of mintstream and he nods once, slits dark pupils. thunderclan stink clings to the wooden plats and he prays to starclan the falls wash it clean, but not until he proves his point.

” these kits look just like him, and his scent ends here with hers. she was here. these kits were not stolen, and this was no mistake! “

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗
  • i.
  • ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
    58782460_YqlZfgzWBE3fACI.png
    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​

  • cicadablueoutline.png


  • "speech"
​
 
Tybalt’s claws unsheathed immediately at the RiverClanners, his pelt prickling as Howlingstar accused them of stealing the kits. He wanted to leap forward and claw the ears of the RiverClan cats. How dare they take kittens straight from their nursery? Or at all, for that matter! He darted forward after Howlingstar as she raced toward the kittens, but Cicadastar slammed a paw down to stop her.

He was denying stealing them, but Tybalt eyed the leader with narrowed eyes. The idea that Petaltail would have moved her day-old kittens from the safety of the nursery was absurd, even if Cicadastar’s claim about their parentage was true. Even more ridiculous was the idea that she’d abandoned them on purpose. They would starve, or freeze, or be eaten by predators, maybe all three. The queen had loved her kits too much to put them in harm’s way like this.

“These are ThunderClan kits,” Tybalt growled. “They were born and named in ThunderClan. Wherever their parents are, these kits shouldn’t be out here. ThunderClan has warm nests and other queens who can look after them until we find Petaltail.” If we ever do. And Wrenflutter is looking after so many kits already…

Shoving the thought from his mind, Tybalt continued. “They need to be taken home, not sitting here on a damn bridge!”
 
I DON'T KNOW EUPHORIA
sleekpaw | 04 months | genderfluid | he/she/they | physically easy | mentally hard | attack in bold mistyrose
Whatever sleekpaw had expected to find - whatever petaltail had had planned when shed sent him off to speak with Mintstream, sent him to setup their rendezvous - well, it certainly wasn't this.. Blue eyes are wide in shock as accusations are thrown about - but really, all se can think of is 'where is she-'. Running to riverclan in the dead of night to join her lover or perhaps sending her kits alone and portending they're death - that's what they had expected. Even fleeing to the loner lands where the clans cannot reach them. But... not this, never this. Sleekpaw wants to speak up - wasn't to say something, but all he can think of is his parents disappointed faces if his clanmates find out the truth. The possibility that the queen who'd treated him more kindly than his own parents ever had could be gone because Sleekpaw had helped. So the boy just stands there, keeping her mouth sealed shut and head low, staring at the kits. 'I'm sorry - I so sorry. It wasn't supposed to be like this,' they beg silently, frozen.

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Killdeercry is at her flank in an instant, backing her up with barbed words. Howlingstar's furious glare shifts from Cicadastar to the mottled warrior at his side, who explains the situation. Lakemoon herself then appears, immediately causing Howlingstar to falter, her fur beginning to lie flat. Her granddaughter's continuous decision to remain in a different clan always pains her, but even still she will always trust her. The love she has for her isn't so fragile, and so she blinks away the anger as confusion settles upon her. "So...what are they doing here?" She asks, bewildered as both clans seem to be puzzled.

She is sent back into a defensive state when the RiverClan leader stands taller, barking in her face and although he towers over her short form, she does not falter. With narrowed eyes she stands firm, chin lifted defiantly as she stares back into his icy gaze, muzzle to muzzle. "This bridge is neutral territory, if you'd remember your own boundary lines," She reminds him lowly, lifting her tail and pressing her ears forward.

Stagstrike speaks up from behind her, stating that they are ThunderClan kits, born in their own nursery and she nods in agreement. "Asterkit, Daffodilkit, and Rosekit," The tabby names off to prove his point. "They were born in our nursery and they will be coming home now. I'm sorry we can't help with Minstream; we've seen no RiverClan warrior today before your patrol." Although the thought remains - why would a RiverClan warrior be missing the same morning as a ThunderClan queen? Howlingstar can already tell she doesn't like the insinuation...especially with the kits found out here between the two bordering clans. Had her own warrior broken the Code with a RiverClanner? Is that why Cicadastar claims they look like him? She is solemn as she moves to pick up Daffodilkit by the scruff. If successful, she'd attempt to hand her off to Killdeercry. What has Petaltail been thinking? She desperately RiverClan will stay quiet about it and move along, allowing them to get the kits back to their nest where it's safe.​
 
TRAVELER, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED (AND NOW YOU MUST GO) ⋆⁺₊⋆

Hazepaw follows eagerly on her mentor’s heels, focusing on the kits with a hawk-eyed intensity. They are so small — she remembers, albeit blurrily, what it was like to be so little in a world so big. But she had comfort and familiarity in her parents and littermates; these kits have nothing but the cold wind and stale scent of their own family. The mixed blood there, Thunder and River, has her ears pricking up. How curious; how… risky.

Thunderclan’s yells and insults pull them from their thoughtful consideration of the kits. They frown, fur already puffing up in offense. They are quick to jump to accusations: is this a part of Thunderclan’s way of life, or a symptom of the tense relationship between their clans?

Their mentor doesn’t care about cultural differences. He hisses at the barely-veiled threats, standing tall in the face of the older molly leading the opposite patrol. Their back prickles in response, fur standing on ends and ears pinning back instinctively as tension weighs down the air. When Howlingstar moves to pick up Daffodilkit, they move without meaning to, leaning over the kits as if their slight frame alone might stop the leader from acting.

”River kin,” she enunciates clearly, glancing down at the kits. They do look familiar. Like she might have seen them around camp already. There must be a lot of Mintstream in them.
​
 

Cicadastar has a voice that makes her blood boil. Every word out of his mouth makes her want to lash out, dig her claws into his face and just bash it repeatedly against the cold stone bridge. But she cant do that.....Especially in front of the kits. Could you imagine?? Such violence is not for their not even open eyes. Yet.

While the leaders talk, she looks around.

"Their parents have to be somewhere.... Cats don't just disappear...." She says to herself, looking over the bridge into the river. Had they fallen in??

But either way, she agrees with Tybalt. "Stagstrike is right. They were born in our nursery, to a Thunderclan queen. They are ours." She says. "They will come home with us." She glares down at Hazepaw, who dares to step over the kits to stop Howlingstar from taking them. She bares her teeth and bristles at her.

"Move."
​
 
WE'RE GETTING LOST! — Killdeercry met Lakemoon's gaze with a fiery glow, maw lifted in a smile full of malice.

"Make me." She challenged, lifting her chin boldly to stare up at the Defector. Seeing Lakemoon revert her attention back to Howlingstar and the others, the warrior took it as a win against Lakemoon. She didn't change her stance either, standing like a statue, waiting for the moment to arise to defend herself. To defend her Clanmates.

The time hadn't arrived, at least not yet. Instead they exchange more spitting arguments on who belonged where. Killdeercry couldn't help but laugh at the RiverClanners, thinking they held any right to Thunder-born kittens. Howlingstar was right, and she named off each one to prove it. Thunder-born, Thunder-named, Thunder-claimed! "Desperation doesn't look well on you, Cicadastar. Not our fault if RiverClan's nursery is running empty."

Should Howlingstar pick up Daffodilkit before Hazepaw's interference, Killdeercry would accept the responsbility of holding the little one. Naturally, given the amount of nephews and nieces she's had to sit for.— tags​
 
the man snorts, bares his teeth at the tabby — who was she to tell him where his own border lies? and to tell him incorrectly. " you’ve lost your mind if you believe this bridge neutral ground. thunderclan has no business here, as much as you all want to stick your noses where you do not belong. " smokethroat was nearly killed on this bridge, blood spilling from the gaping wound upon his face. juniperfrost had trespassed on this very place and paid the price for it. hazepaw creeps in behind him and he lowers his head to defend their smaller frame, the mane along the back of his slim neck bristling like overgrown thistle.

the apprentice enunciates riverclan kin, and his ears instantly snap back at badgerstrike’s responding snarl, ” they’ll do no such thing. “ the only one able to boss the tabby around was him, let alone the brutish molly he’d nearly drowned at sunningrocks a moon prior. the apprentice would be able to take her, should the thunderclanner attack, your queen has abandoned her riverclan fathered kits on our border, where she has obviously decided they belong. “ her scent was here, had been before the patrol had arrived. riverclan blood belonged in riverclan, that much was true. despite the thunderclan muck running about in their systems, they would grow to be just as strong a swimmer, just as hardy a warrior as mintstream. it would be such a waste for them to toil away in the undergrowth.

the molly aside howlingstar sneers at him and he fixes her with a simple look, unimpressed. an average - looking feline, average - sounding and average - threatening, and one not worth a beat of his time, ” bold of a thunderclanner to call anyone desperate. “ a scoff of a laugh, and salt blue eyes roll pointedly away from the warrior, settles his fiery gaze on the tabby more deserving of his attention, if only fractionally.

” you will not take what is rightfully ours, not again. “ in a fell swoop, he aims to pluck @rosekit; up by the scruff, teeth gentle along the too - soft fur. ” hazepaw, take the other. we’ll leave them with buckgait until their father returns. “

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗
  • i.
  • ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
    58782460_YqlZfgzWBE3fACI.png
    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​

  • cicadablueoutline.png


  • "speech"
​
 
As soon as Killdeercry takes the kit from her, she goes to face the RiverClanners again only to see Rosekit plucked up from the ground. An enraged snarl suddenly rips from the once-calm she-cat and she lunges forward to stand defensively over the last of the kits, teeth bared and claws unsheathed over Asterkit. "Return that kit now, Cicadastar. Do I need to repeat my warrior? These kits were born and named in our nursery, and we will fight for them to come home." Pelt bristling, she lashes her tail angrily. He can't just take them. She glances over her shoulder, hoping to see her warriors and their apprentices backing her up. No kit will be stolen today.

// If they try to walk away ThunderClan will attack btw if anyone wants to bring up the planned idea of splitting the litter for a more peaceful outcome!​
 
"Hazepaw, take the other. we'll leave them with Buckgait until their father returns."

Cicadastar had only gotten a few words out before Tybalt's long claws unsheathed. His jaws parted to spit a venomous hiss at the RiverClan cats as he stepped up beside Howlingstar to defend the remaining kitten. His wavy pelt bristling, he glared at Cicadastar as his claws sank into the wood of the twoleg bridge. You want a fight? Come and get it then, you weasel-faced kit thieves.
 



Today their patrol had set out on a mission to find their missing warrior, to bring him back to them. Wordlessly, she follows the others, her nose occasionally lifting to the air to try and catch that oh so familiar smell, or dropping to a reed as she brushes past it. It's to no avail. She is starting to lose hope that they ever would but then suddenly she hears voices, the sound of arguing and she is pushing her large body through the thick tangle of weeds and making her way over to the twoleg bridge.

The scene layed out before her feels like a strange dream. She blinks, unbelieving at the kits before her very eyes. They look so much like him. There's no doubt in her mind that they are part Mintstream, no doubt in any RiverClanners mind it seemed. Cicadastar is already taking one, instructing Hazepaw to take another but Howlinstar's angry voice cuts through the air and Tallwave can tell that things are about to turn ugly fast. "There's no need to fight, not in front of them at least" she says quickly. Why cause bloodshed over such a matter? It would do no good to draw claws when there were such young eyes here. "They are just as much RiverClanners as they are ThunderClanners." Howlingstar should know better than anyone how that was. She had famly in practically all the clans right? "Both clans should get at least one of the kits and perhaps we can let fate decide where the third should go." Quickly she uses one oversized paw to grab a rock and she scores her claws down one side of it "We could toss this rock into the air and if it lands on the scratched side the last kit goes to RiverClan" her blue eyes flick to Cicadastar, waiting and hoping to see if he approved. Tossing a rock was a common thing her own parents had done when she was a kit, meant to settle any arguments between herself and her siblings. You couldn't argue with fate, after all.

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