[Star]

 

Originally Posted by Neptune.

Larkwing
35 moons || she/her || rc warrior || Kitty Softpaws, Mind Reader, Killer Aptitude T2
heavily scarred dilute tortie w/ low white; green eyes

There's an immense amount of quiet courage in doing what you once thought you'd never do again; too shackled by fear and uncertainty and an intense desire to just... not find out what might happen next. That boundary, Larkwing had thought, was firmly in place, rooted in the ground and as unmovable as the ocean is infinite. Apparently she'd been wrong.

Moons ago, before their kits were born, Larkwing had told Fishfreckle she didn't think she'd ever go to a gathering again. And, at the time, that had truly been what she believed to be true. But, the truth remains that she simply doesn't trust the other Clans around her kids - ThunderClan especially, though the other two don't hold much merit in her mind either.

At present, she's escorting Faithpaw, sticking close to her pale furred daughter, enough so that their pelts might brush up against each other and Faith won't get lost in the already huge crowd. Larkwing is buzzing. Not from excitement, but from anxiety. How many cats here recognize her? How many has she last met in violence and bloodshed? She makes an active effort not to look too closely at the cats on the high rank stones - she doesn't see Bumblestar, in her place is- she doesn't know the tom's name. She swallows. Most of her anxiety had centered on the ThunderClan leader, and she doesn't see her here. (If Bumblebreak was any taller, maybe Larkwing would have spotted her, unfortunately she's a tiny cat and surrounded by several bigger and bulkier cats.)

"Do you want to stick close to RiverClan? Or chat with the apprentices from the other Clans?" Larkwing asks, keeping her voice light and free of the anxiety she feels even as she glances around anxiously, her torn ear flicking in mirror of her nerves. She hates gatherings.

[ @Star <3 ]

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Faithpaw
Fluffy albino she-cat with pale blind eyes and a jagged scar across both her eyes
She/Her | 6 Moons | + Every 28th | RiverClan Apprentice | The Gentle Hoper
[3/100]

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

Her first Gathering. It was worse than she'd expected. Too many sounds, too many scents, and too crowded. Judging by the slight tension she can sense in Larkwing, Faithpaw can only imagine she feels the same. She keeps her head down for most of the walk, forcing herself to... Well, not be drawn to some other scent. At Larkwing's question, the pale kitten lifts her head.

"W-w-..with you... M-mama." She stutters out, pressing closer to the tortoiseshell feline. It was scary out here. So many scents she didn't recognise, which meant DANGER in all caps, bolded and in red.

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