when the men sail away | intro

[SILVERFOOT]

She had come to the river for peace. Peace for herself, peace for her mind, peace for her daughter. Her tiny ray of sunshine with a feather-down coat and a switch-blade smile. Silver had always found it difficult to settle down in one place for too long, but it did make her heart sing to see her child seems so happy among the reeds and rapids that made up their current home. She watched her now from her shaded willow perch, green eyes trained so wholly, so lovingly on their daughter. There was an intensity there, completely unmatched by her lazy tail-flicks and relaxed haunches.

Her child was safe, and that was what mattered.​

 

[BEESONG]

Beesong had not come to the river of his own accord, rather he came for that of Rain's. There is this restlessness in him, a piercing pain behind his left eye that ebbs and flares and does not allow him to sleep. His chest is constricted, like thorns have entwined themselves around him and continue to grow tighter by the day. He couldn't say why. There is disconnect between him and his muddled mind. But he does not equate these responses to Rain; rather, he separates the pain from the situation he's been forced into. There is a logical reason behind this. He's connected to the stars somehow, a rare kind of psychic ability that he isn't sure is a curse or a blessing. Him, and only him, could be RiverClan's medicine cat. Rain had told him so, and so, he obeyed.

Pins and needles stab their limbs, a telltale sign of an oncoming headache. Black spots cloud their vision, but they force themselves through it to do their job despite the numb weakness in their left side. They'd collected more poppy seeds, dandelions, and feverfew, gulping down a pawful of the yellow flowers' leaves on the way back in preparation.

They didn't intend on interacting with anyone on their way back, but when they accidentally step on the tail of Silverfoot as they trod through the makeshift camp, that plan changes. The herbs drop from their mouth as a rushed apology comes out, "Oh, sorry." They sway on their paws idly, their gaze following Silverfoot's. She's watching over a child, probably hers although they cannot remember with certainty. "Mmm... Is that one yours?" They begin to gather the scattered herbs back into a pile, snorting to themselves as they humorlessly joke in that typical flat tone, "Good thing I've gathered up some herbs, since I've seemed to develop a taste for stepping on tails. Soon you'll all look like me." They twitch their bobbed tail. The direction of this conversation has been completely skewed by the muddled state of their brain.​

 

[Harry Styles]

A S H K I T
it's a long way forward, so trust in me

---

Ash has been playing at the edge of camp, safely under her mother's watch. She's being a good kit, staying within the borders like Cicadastar told her. She's darting in and out of the reeds, splashing in the shallow waters that flow just behind the nursery.

"Mama!" Ash yells. "Look at this rock! It's-"

Really pretty, she's going to say. Let's put it in our nest!

(Since she's determined to be good, to listen to Cicadastar, to not sneak out and make everybody angry and sad again, she's taken a liking to collecting these rocks; the stream deposits all manner of smooth stones near the nursery, and Ash paws through them, searching for the prettiest ones. She keeps them in a tiny pile in the nursery, near their nest.)

But her call is cut off by Beesong's approach. The curly-furred medicine cat's appearance is striking, unmistakable; Ash blinks glass-green eyes, and little orange ears flatten to her skull, frightened. She remembers him screaming and her and Pumpkin to "SHUT UP!", remembers his tears, remembers being a bad kit who made Beesong cry and shout.

Ash scampers out of the stream and around Beesong as quickly as she can manage, scrambling to Silverfoot's side and burying her face in her mother's fur.

​

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

​

ooc quick tags

• ​
• - three moons old
  - will bite you
  - will put nettles in your nest
  - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
  - she's trying her best, i swear ​

 

[CASCADESONG]

"Awww..." it's a gentle coo he utters at the sight of little Ash, bounding to press her face into the warmth of her mother's fur. It fills him with a sense of joy, a dopey smile curling upon his lips as he takes in the sight. Kits were so cute, and they didn't even do it on purpose! He could barely understand it.

Though his smile falters for a moment, only a moment, when he realizes why she was so quick to get around Beesong.

He wouldn't worry about that right now, not when there are more urgent matters he could attend to. The scattered drops of herbs around Beesong's paws demand attention, and in a moment, he's bending down to help, gathering up loose stems and dropping them into their pile. No, he wouldn't flinch at strange tastes and smells suddenly invading his senses, 'cause right now, he needed to make things better. With each leaf dropped into the pile, he twitches his whiskers at the medicine cat in question. "Ya' got jaws that strong?" he asks, only half-joking if he's honest.

His gaze then flicks to silver, offering what he hopes is a sweet smile to the queen. "Ya' got quite the lil' treasure finder on your paws, huh?" he comments, the beginnings of a purr rumbling in his throat.​

 

[SILVERFOOT]

Perhaps a softer woman - or any other woman for that matter - would have seen the frazzled medicine cat and given them an ounce of slack. But when leaden paws traipse across her tail, the she-cat lets out an evil hiss, fangs bared and ears flat against her head. Green eyes narrow is distaste for the cat before her - apparently both blind and stupid and said to be the healer of this clan. She contemplates for half a moment whether or not to tear this bumbling imbecile limb from limb when the tinkling sound of her child's voice pulls her attention away.

All anger and hatred melts away from her posture as her little sun-beam pops up from her play area, another treasure evident. She calls to her and the woman blinks warmly, the idiot forgotten, until her child is pressing herself against her chest. Silver looks down at her child, with her small ears pressed against her head, and the fire returns. Another snarl etches itself upon her face, now turned to both toms in general maternal rage.

"What did you do?"
​

​

 

[otterpop]

Otter appears with widened eyes as a snarl is directed towards both Cascade and Beesong, peeking over their shoulders to see a little kit burried in to what seemed to be her mothers fur. Ash, he'd seen her around, a sweet little thing with a big heart, he liked Ash! But Beesongs herbs were everywhere and Otter silently moves to help pick them up besides Cascade with slightly flattened ears. He didn't want to evoke the queens wrath, nuh uh! It'd be better if he stayed quiet.

Though that didn't last long. "No need to get feisty, mamas!" it was supposed to be humorous though it slightly shook in nervousness, and if he had free paws he'd smack his own face. "Prolly' just a misunderstanding, yeah?" he looks pleadingly at Cascadesong, at Beesong (hey, he just now made the correlation of their names!) to please back him up. He had no idea what had happened between them, why Ash looked so afraid of Bee, and to be honest he was not the best cat to be a mediator.
​

"speech"​

 

[Harry Styles]

A S H K I T
it's a long way forward, so trust in me

---

Ash feels her mother bristle, that familiar protective rage. No, she thinks, no, don't get mad at him. Beesong didn't do anything wrong.

The kitten lifts her head and licks at Silverfoot's pelt, tiny tongue doing her best to soothe the way Silver always soothes her. "It's okay, Mama," Ash whispers. "He, he didn't do anything. I made him cry and yell when I was bad."

Other cats have approached by now-- Otter, Cascade-- and Ash feels oddly... observed. She doesn't like it.
​

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

​

ooc quick tags

• ooc text goes here ​
• - three moons old
  - will bite you
  - will put nettles in your nest
  - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
  - she's trying her best, i swear ​

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : his approach was drawn by the sound a of a wicked snarl ; orbital ear pivoting on instinct, frigid luminaries lifting from where he was delicately applying a fresh layer of cobwebs over the healing wounds splitting his forearm. beesong had been kind enough to treat him with patience despite their own thinning mental state ; there was only so much he could do to make his affliction easier on the cinnamon tabby. the riverclan leader pushes himself to shaky white - tipped paws, ignoring the stretch of scabbing wounds as he forces himself tall. a silver molly stands nearly feral with rage against a much smaller beesong, ash’s quivering form tucked into her grey - white fur — his brow furrowed, long limbs bringing him to a stop aside otterpop, his attempt at humor bringing a wry smile to rubberblack lips, “ theres no need for that. it was a mistake, yes? “ slitted pupils flick back towards the cinnamon tabby he had inadvertently attempted to slit himself in front of, a snow - tipped paw outstretched nearly across them. without waiting for an answer he would give a single, curt nod, icy luminaries fixating back on the hissing mother with a furrowed brow, “ that seems a bit of an overreaction — show a little more respect for your medicine cat. “ his tone is almost incredulous, haze dropping back down to try and make it seem as if his outstretched paw was intended to assist in gathering the herbs bee had dropped.

ash pops up as she often does ; bright and bounding from the flora, fluffy sunburst coat damp from the nursery’s waters. he watches her trot closer with a warm smile pulling the curve of his maw . . she was a sweet child, and she’d been showing immense improvement in her wandering since their incident at the border. she’d frightened him, being out that far by herself — she could’ve been plucked up by a hawk, fallen into where the river crashed around jagged rock. she could’ve gone to the gorge. the man knew realistically silverfoot could not keep an eye on the molly for every second of the day, though her tendency to find herself deep within the territory worried him more than anything else. though as she ducked into the silver queens fur, his expression would turn to confusion, brows pulling until they crease between his eyes. he knew of what had happened, though he wasn’t present for the moment that beesong had yelled word of the chain of events had gotten to him fast. he had an inkling that the cinnamon tabby’s outburst had little to do with the kit herself and moreso the trauma of events less recent. they had all struggled with loss, with the fighting. beesong was frazzled and they had a right to be, they all did. he would not blame him for that.

slowly, the tall tom would lower himself to his bicolored belly lowering his head to where he was not still towering over her little form should she approach, “ ash, you were not bad. “ cicadastar speaks, voice soft. a gentle lilt, “ sometimes we do things and people around us don’t react well. that doesn’t mean you’re bad, liebling. you’ve just done a bad thing. “ his ears twitch, smile returning to his maw, “you only have to work on making it right. beesong apologized, which was a very grown up thing to do. you — “ he reached out an ivory paw in attempt to boop her little nose once. he would touch his nose to her forehead, but in all honestly, he was in no hurry to get closer to the bristling woman over her. another issue he would have to address, but not now, “ must only stay in camp, where mama or a warrior can see you, and you’ve been doing a very good job so far. ”

out of character information translations

• − CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
  − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
  − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers
  
  
• liebling: darling.

​

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[BEESONG]

Beesong grimaces at Ash's voice. Holes are burned into his vision, but through them, he swears that he sees her cower behind her... mother. The kit he'd asked about had been Ash. And Ash is... scared of him. The scent of fear rolls off of her in waves, drowning the medicine cat as it crashes into him. He'd never wanted this- he's supposed to heal, not hurt.

Something- someone moves beside him. Tired eyes flicker to Cascadesong, who is helping him gather up the herbs he'd scattered. There's a breathless laugh that follows the red tabby's joke. "Yeah..." The retort that typically would've rolled off of his tongue is strangled in his throat at the sudden, violent snarl from Silver. Instinct takes over, and his lips seal themselves shut. Be good, be silent, and he would not be hurt.

There, that piercing pain shatters his skull behind his right eye. His singular ear flattens. What did I do? Too much, and yet, not enough.

Then comes a flat response. "I'm sorry."

Sorry. They've spoken that word so much that it no longer sounds like one. They aren't even certain of it's meaning, anymore. Is it genuine, or is it a response to this wicked anger that they've learned over time?

Otterpop tries to relieve this situation with humor, and Beesong might've appreciated it before they'd been cast into this pool of sharks. He looks towards them and Cascadesong - at least, they think that he's looking in their direction - and Beesong mistakes it for another demand for them to apologize. "I'm sorry," they repeat.

Ash speaks, now. He didn't do anything. Yes, he did. I made him cry and yell. No, she didn't. It wasn't her fault. It was his, for not being strong enough. For being too weak. For being like his father.

She's too young to bear this burden of guilt.

"It wasn't you," they reassure her in a voice that's far too dull to be reassuring. The pain grows stronger, and Beesong bites back a hiss. A paw fumbles through their herbs, scattering the pile once more. The dandelion leaves weren't enough. But, maybe they deserve this. Their paw stills.

Cicadastar's paw jams itself between them and Silver. Beesong glances towards the leader through their spotty vision. It was a mistake, yes? "Yes," the reply is near instant, falling from their tongue on instinct before their mind could truly comprehend the question. It was a mistake, yes. A foolish mistake they made, and one they would not make again.

Beesong nearly snorts when Cicadastar demands respect for him. Oh, he doesn't deserve that! He hasn't earned respect here! His nose wrinkles, but he remains silent, like a good medicine cat would do.

The throbbing pain is nearly all that he could focus on now, and with a huff, Beesong begins to gather up the herbs. "'m gonna go... put these away." Words are beginning to become hard to form. Flicking his stubby tail, he picks up the herbs and heads towards his makeshift storage.​