WHEREVER YOU GO - introduction

[CLAY !]

When his brother had told him that he wanted to move back to the river, Clay had protested. He didn't want to go back, to start all over again, but Mud had insisted and the brown tom found it difficult to say no to his younger brother. Besides, there were things that he missed about being here. Lazing about in the sun, which he was currently doing, watching the willows sway softly in the light summer breeze, listening to the gentle murmur of the stream nearby, or taking a dip in it when it got to be a little too hot. He had not wanted to leave here either, but it had been safer to go with Rain and his group. He had liked the silver furred tom, he was a little alike. Both of them only wanted to protect their families, which is what he had been doing his entire life.

He stretches out in the sunshine now, his dark-colored pelt warmed by its rays and his white toes reaching in front of him, grasping at something that's not there. He opens his eyes and stands, shaking his pelt of sand and looking around the clearing at their new home, analyzing, taking it all in. It was familiar territory, but the cats here were strange faces. Some he recognized from before, when he and his brother had been loners and had interacted with others very briefly, and some he knew from the Pine Group. But others and these were the cats he was still quite wary of, were from the marshes. He had been particularly unhappy that he had to now live under the cat who had killed Rain, but Cicada had told them he had been chosen by the stars, and Rain was of the stars so that had to mean something, right?

"A-Uh nice weather we're having today huh?" he says awkwardly to the nearest cat, a lame attempt at friendliness. He's not quite as skilled as his brother with social interaction but by the stars, he would make an attempt. He didn't want to feel like a stranger here forever. But now that the words have left his mouth he wishes he could take him back. Why oh why was he so bad at this?

// intros my beloathed. The cat he's speaking to can be anybody and it can be assumed anyone in Pine Group or who resided in the wetlands before River Clan formed will at least have a vague idea of who he is
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"speech"​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

The absolute worst cat in the world to be nearby for this idle chitchat just so happened to be nearby for this idle chitchat. If Clay was bad at socializing, then Ember himself was a testament to what happened to a loner who didn't talk to anyone for prolonged periods of time and had no concept of social structure. The other tom had at least tried, which is more than the black cat was capable of at times, but he still wasn't sure if he grasped or even liked the idea of small talk. It seemed pointless to him? It felt like words trying to fill something far larger than what words were capable of filling, but perhaps that was because he was a cat more accustomed to using his claws to speak. On the battle field things were easier, things made sense to him, when claws spoke he understood them, but when other cats spoke he was at a loss. When Clay first spoke he had lifted his head to glance around as if unsure whether the question was directed at him or not or even if it was a question; the cats here had an odd manner of clipping their comments to end in sentences when they didn't actually want answers and it was such a strange habit he still didn't understand. Thankfully, after what felt like an alarmingly long time of silent starring at the muddy-furred tom the dark warrior replied, "Suppose it is..."
He looked just a touch familiar didn't he? Or maybe Em was misremembering, he'd never socialized with the other cats who lived in the marshes before the great battle and he was hardly good at names and faces. When the fighting broke out it was during an injury he had and he had hung back unsure of what was happening initially until it was too late to lend his claws. Suppose that was the downside to not making himself known, he missed a battle worthy of legends and his claws ached. A shame.
Right well, now that he replied he should probably say hello proper-that was the way you did it and he had stuck to the methodology of socializing because it was all he knew so far, "I'm Ember. Don't think I got your name...?" Maybe he did, maybe he didn't-either way he was about to be refreshed on the topic.

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riverclan --- warrior--- tags

 

[CLAYFUR]

The brown and white tabby finds it humorous that the other Clay—his sister’s mate’s brother Clay—seems to be the quiet type, while Clayfur is loud, perhaps too rambunctious at times. And he’s pretty sure they’ve both only traveled to RiverClan because of their siblings. He certainly doesn’t like it here, although he can see himself enjoying it once he finally settles into whatever routine the clan will follow.

He’s doing his usual free-time hobby of pacing aimlessly around the camp, in the hopes that it will help build his stamina or something, when he spots two figures not too far away. A dark brown feline, one he recognizes immediately to be Mud’s older brother. He bounds over to the two, interrupting their conversation—or lack thereof. "Hey! What’s up, bro?" It takes him a moment to recognize the cat beside him, black with white speckles, but when he does he offers Ember a toothy grin. "Are you guys getting along?"
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[ PENNED BY FOXLORE ]​

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