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

Howlingstar's features tighten, her muscles twitching as she prepares for what may be inevitable. Stagstrike steps to to take a battle stance beside her, emboldening her. Take one more step and you'll regret it, She mentally dares the RiverClanners, the maternal desire to protect these ThunderClan kits causing her claws to grip the stone in anticipation of a skirmish. That is, until a blue-furred she-cat speaks up, trying to calm them down. Howlingstar's lips relax slightly, partially concealing her fangs as she shifts her attention. She argues the kits belong to RiverClan just as much as they belong to ThunderClan, and she begins to imagine if the roles had been reversed. What if a ThunderClanner sired a RiverClan queen's kits? Would she demand to take them? Would she demand to split the litter up like this she-cat is suggesting?

No. I wouldn't.

She'd be angry with her clanmate, but she wouldn't take the kits away from the home they'd always known. She wouldn't divide siblings. But if it prevented bloodshed...perhaps she'd have to give in. "You want to take not one but two kits born in ThunderClan's nursery? No, I won't gamble on that," She asserts, straightening herself and allowing her fur to lie flat once more. After a long moment of pondering, eyes shifting from Cicadastar to the kits to her clanmates, she finally sighs. "I will allow you to take Rosekit and raise them as a RiverClanner." Her voice is solemn as she nods to the kit swinging from the RiverClan leader's teeth. "Their father is RiverClan. I can justify this. But the other two will return to their birthplace in our nursery. Do we have a deal?" It's the most she's willing to bend on this, and even this is hard enough. She feels she's betraying Rosekit, betraying their littermates, betraying Petaltail, but what can she do? Risk herbs and all of the kits?​
 
TRAVELER, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED (AND NOW YOU MUST GO) ⋆⁺₊⋆

Hazepaw is far from a coward, and Badgerstrike’s threat display doesn’t stir her. But she’s not a warmonger, either, and the tension in the air makes her uncharacteristically cautious, so she doesn’t immediately move to grab the kit when her mentor orders her to. Her ears pin back at bristling pelts and unsheathed claws but she stays put, waiting: she’ll only move if the enemy cats do, to try and get the kits first.

Then, thankfully, Tallwave speaks up, offering to split the litter — and to make a game of chance out of the tiebreaker. Hazepaw approves of that wholeheartedly. If they cannot decide, then Starclan will: that is the way things ought to be done. Howlingstar’s protest has them narrowing their eyes in a scornful glare.

”Fate,” they stress out, gesturing at the stone. ”Fair.” Fairer than fighting for the kits, who they cannot risk hurting; fairer than any other mortal choice. Then again, Thunderclan do like taking what they are not owed in the slightest, laying claim on anything they see and covet; what, is Howlingstar worried Starclan will not rule in their favor?

They glance at the three kits — future warriors, pulled out of their nursery of birth for a reason. ”Less food,” they add smartly. After all the chaos and bloodshed over Thunderclan’s so-called struggle to feed their own, surely they would enjoy having only one more mouth to hunt for. Despite this, they too look at Cicadastar for guidance: only he can decide now.
​
 
She listens to the cats around her regard the kits in front of them as things to be traded and it rubs her the wrong way.

But there is no other solution to this problem, it seems.

She glares at the Riverclanners, daggers only in metaphor. If she had such weapons, there would be carnage

"Alright then.... Let's get this over with." She says.

She looks at Hazepaw after her comment about less food. Her only reply is a dark chuckle. This one. Yes, this is the one she will thrash when they meet in battle next.

She looks to Tallwave. "Toss the stone."​
 
Howlingstar's attention sharply turns onto the apprentice who argues. She narrows her eyes, not amused that an apprentice of all cats was stepping in on such an important interclan matter. "No. These kits were born in our nursery. I will agree to giving RiverClan one and no blood will be spilled here." Badgerstrike speaks up then, blatantly disregarding her decision and telling the other warrior to toss the stone and see where it lands. With fury lighting up her eyes in an expression rarely seen on the calm leader's face, she shoots a scolding glare over her shoulder at the warrior. What are you doing? Questioning her decisions right in front of the enemy? Does she not realize how bad she just made ThunderClan look if they're not united? "I will not gamble on a ThunderClan-born kit," She repeats herself icily, eyes flashing at Badgerstrike before returning to where they belong: on Cicadastar, the only one who can accept the deal of peace she has offered.​
 
tallwave mentions throwing a stone, and his lip curls, but there is a point. fate, hazepaw says, and he finds himself agreeing. starclan had kept these kittens safe amidst the elements, had lead him to their mewling before thunderclan could tow them away once again. that meant something, didn’t it? less food. hazepaw says, and the mottled tom hums his agreement, ” yes. that stolen scrap of territory can only feed so many. “ it’s a grim sigh of a thing, a frowning breath and badgerstrike agrees. for all the brute idiocy that she is, she is wise to agree. even the most brutish of them knew better than to fight unnecessarily — and yet, the aging tabby before him speaks negatively in mere seconds. a misplaced assuredness. sharp eyes lock on her, a sharp jab of movement leading pupils to slip down the arch of his nose, " howlingstar, in truth.. your agreement means very little to me. " its cold and simple, pallid eyes leveling the tabby with a hard, river - edge stare. there is no respect in bitter, slitted eyes — dark pupils fix unmoving on the plump tabby, ” but if you choose for thunderclan blood spilled on this bridge for kits your queen so lovingly abandoned, so be it. even though your warriors — “ his tail flourishes, a thick flick in their direction, ” have spoken their piece. “

and wasn’t she a molly of honor? she spoke in such a way, he could only assume. wouldnt it be honorable to listen to her masses? she flings them a barbed look, but he gives them a lazily, charming grin — the pearl tips of his teeth gleam. ” let them play this game of fate! should we lose, ja — we will walk away with one. “ pale eyes flit down to hazepaw, a silent signal. be ready. they were at ease, unfazed in the face of bristling thunderclanners, and for once.. he found their nonchalance well - placed. they were all large, lean and thick - furred with greenleaf’s gifts. it would be foolish, but thunderclan had proven themselves brute fools before, ” or don’t, and we will take them all. you’ll do well to remember you’re gambling more than a thunderclan - born kit. “

˗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"
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She always had a habit of getting in trouble by trying to take charge and now was no different. Howlingstar gives her an icy look and she lowers her head slightly.

"Sorry. I simply doubt that this gangly eel here is capable of peace." She says. Her words are genuine, it wasn't her intention to undermine Howlingstar. She's never been the lackey before. The lower rank. It's an adjustment still being adjusted to, even after all these moons.

Her gaze hardens as she looks back to said gangly eel. She does not trust him. She does not speak, but her glare and posture speak for her. She doesn't trust him to keep his word. If that stone favors Thunderclan, he or this little scrap will surely move to steal the kits anyway.

And she was poised to strike if they did.​
 
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