duskclan your sons and your daughters // new recruit

[Possumscratch.]

IF I DON'T GO TO HELL
WHEN I DIE I MIGHT GO TO HEAVEN ​

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'possum & 17 moons & trans masc & he/they & duskclan rogue ​

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Honestly, he doesn't think much of the place when they arrive - amber eyes flicking from face to face as he takes in his surroundings. Still, it wasn't like he was 'bout to pass up such an opportunity - no, even if this 'duskclan' was not one of the ones that'd been featured in his mothers stories, he'd still been utterly fascinated by clan life. Always wondered what it must have been like, to have to share food and territory with others - so many cats, to befriend, to kill. Clans did things like that, he recalled - went to war with one another, with rogues who trespassed, with kittypets birdbrained enough to pass their boundaries. Never understood why his ma' had left them, when they sounded so utterly neat - sure his big sibling had died or something, but that hardly mattered - he certainly wouldn't let a little death stop him. Sharp toothed grin only widens as he rocks on his paws, the tall tom peering at his companion once he's finally gathered his thoughts - " So's that really all? don' gotsta kill a kittypet or something, or eat a kit to prove my undyin' loyalty to you're leader or summink, " he says, and despite his playfully cheery demeanor it's hardly a joke - no, it actually sounds quite fun. Poor hollowcreek has really found an odd one, stars even 'possum himself would be willing to admit as much.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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M I G H T ━ G O ━ T O ━ H E A V E N , ━ B U T ━ P R O B A B L Y ━ N O T !

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speaking to @hollowcreek but no need to wait

 

[PRIVETFROST]

"No, you don't. We aren't savages." Privetpaw mewed, leaden disdain clinging to his boyish intonation as fern-green eyes swam along Possum's downtrodden-looking body. What had Hollowcreek dragged through the den's mouth this time? Blacks and blues clung to scraps of a pelt, so much different than the groomed pelage of Privet's meticulous combing. The white-tipped tom did not stand too close to the newcomer - perhaps he would catch... whatever the cat had that made him so scruffy. Although Possum stood taller and heavier than the lithe apprentice, his respect for the newcomer came pulverulent and waning as an unsightly tide, a shivering sea shirking away from scrutiny. Admiration, to him, must be explicitly earned and never implicitly inferred. Those older than him would immediately garner his trust, and those just stepping into his view would have to prove themselves in gaze swimming in consternation. A cheerful demeanor sparked from the other feline, perhaps as much of a folly and a farse as the span of the briquette, but the wine-dark cat hardly considered himself impressed by such niceties. In fact, he found it quite inefficient to conversation. "There's no rite of passage, I think. Just be loyal to those that protect you. You can do that, can't you?" Owlish head tilted, still fraught in kitten fuzz, as though it were a quiet challenge offered in cupped hands.

𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 ── X ── 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

• OOC:
  
• 
• 

  —— PRIVETPAW / He/Him / 4 Moons
  —— Apprentice of Duskclan / Mentored by Rumblerain
  —— Wine-dark and white-tipped, almost like a magpie. He has black fur except for the tips of his ears, his muzzle and chin, a blaze on his chest, bottom portion of the legs, outer end of the tail, and along the upper ridges of eyes. He has ghost striping that can only be seen in certain sunlight. He has fern-green eyes.
  —— Cool, calculating, and much too mature for such a young age. Enamored with the life of a warrior and burdened by the expectations of his people. Hard to befriend and harder to maintain a steady friendship with.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[DUSTWHISKER]

✧ . They have to expand. Though he’d rather they’d not open their semblance of a home to new faces, Dustwhisker understands this. DuskClan can never thrive if it doesn’t expand, if it doesn’t grow like billowing smoke over the moors.

But, if it were up to him — it never will be — they’d choose stronger members, those ready for battle; prepared to sink their claws into traitors that plague a home once his, spill blood until the last breaths of their enemies ring out. Not kits, like Ebonylight brings — from where, he doesn’t know.

And certainly not… whoever tags behind Hollowcreek. Smiling, too tall, with remarks that leave Dustwhisker rolling his eyes. He doesn’t understand half of why they stand here today, he bets.

“ Apparently not, “ he sneers at the new face, a contrasting expression pulling at his maw as he stares back at the newcomer. “ But I’m sure we could scrounge up a kit or two, if you’d like — “ A harmless joke in return, though Dustwhisker wouldn’t think twice about doing away with Gravelkit, should the moment arise. ​

✦ ABOUT

• 
  DUSTWHISKER ✦ AMAB. He / Him. Warrior of DuskClan.
  ✧ . A black tabby / black chimera and white tom with dull yellow eyes.
  ✧ . Breezecurl x Stormtalon
  ✧ . Mentored by Breezecurl
  ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
  ✧ . Penned by Abri ‣ @_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
  ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
  

​

 

[hollowcreek]

( ✧ ) There's nothing very impressive about this one. Twitchy and chatty, Hollowcreek wouldn't pin 'Possum as much of a fighter when they would need one. His mission was to recruit, though, and opportunity did not always look like prime potential such as himself. They may be able to reform 'Possum into something more formidable in time, hopefully surrounding himself with the other DuskClanners will ignite that change.

"That's really all." Hollowcreek answered in a deadpan tone. Privetpaw and Dustwhisker took to the newcomer's outlandish comments with their own dry sarcasm and he reacted with a mused grunt. "This one calls themself 'Possum. He's interested in DuskClan, knows a little here and there already." The small tuft of his tail twitched as he glanced for any sight of Granitepelt or Rumblerain.

"Give him time, I'm sure they'll prove themselves capable to stick around. If not, well..." Weak cats made for good buzzardfood.
​

( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )

 

[Possumscratch.]

IF I DON'T GO TO HELL WHEN I DIE I MIGHT GO TO HEAVEN ​

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'possum & 17 moons & trans masc & he/they & duskclan rogue ​

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A roll of his shoulders shows that despite his words, hes not all to fussed - sharp toothed grin turning upon the younin' in front of him. They ever so kindly point out that they arent savages - and it takes all of 'possums little self control to keep from sing-songing that he certainly is.

Instead, he nods along half-absently " 'course... can do, can do, " Another actually offers to take him up on his 'joke' - but as funny as its be to see them squirm should he accept, he doesnt. The flea-ridden tom knows when best to bite his tongue, call it a day - joke or not. " Mmmm yeah, thats the name - 'spose its nice to meet ya'll, heard lots about the clans though admittedly never duskclan, " eyebrows waggle at that, because surely theres a story there? Five become six, and all that.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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M I G H T ━ G O ━ T O ━ H E A V E N , ━ B U T ━ P R O B A B L Y ━ N O T !

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