Gracklepaw
13 moons || ShadowClan Apprentice; Former Loner || 73/100
. . .
Gracklepaw turned to his side as another apprentice approached him, presumably ThunderClan from the scent. His suspicions were further confirmed as she commented about it. He didn't take much offense to the jab at his scent. ShadowClan did have that odd marshy scent. Or piney, he guessed. Their territory has moved and there wasn't much marshland anymore. When he'd first joined the Clan he had thought the same things. It was also ironic that recently Magpiepaw had also commented on how his "weird loner scent" as she called it had faded.
"I don't smell like ThunderClan because I'm not from ThunderClan. I'm from ShadowClan. I used to think the smell was weird too. But I'm used to it by now." My name's Gracklepaw by the way." He replied to the ThunderClan apprentice. He had to stifle a laugh at the expressive look on her face. He didn't want to be rude to the cat he just met, but her gaping jaw was quite amusing. "Is this your first Gathering?" He asked with a smile.
Eyes wide with uncharacteristic curiousity (the only reason it was uncharacteristic was because Kestrelpaw had been suppressing it for the past three moons), the ThunderClan apprentice soaked up her companion's words like a sponge. "Ew. Yucky, ShadowClan. Just so you know, ThunderClan is way better." She accentuated these words with a firm nod, as if that made her right and whatever he said on the matter instantly wrong.
She paused, however, at his next words. He... agreed with her? He used to think the scent odd also-? Wait, what was she saying, of course he agreed with her. She was always right after all. Glancing over at the apprentice - Gracklepaw, Kestrelpaw narrowed her eyes suspiciously. No way, he'd stolen her bird name! Hmph! Fine, she supposed she wouldn't hold it against him. Not his fault he just didn't know.
"Mine is Kestrelpaw, duh." She huffed, and then puffed up indignantly at his other question. No way was this her first gathering! She wasn't some sort of newbie! "Nuh uh. I been here... before." She informed him ... but admittedly, Kestrelpaw had barely paid attention to anything except her father, and then had gone home early.
__________________
❝ Leaving them feeling betrayed.
Breaking the bonds that you've made. ❞
The siblings lingered near the back of the Seastones, casting leering, judgmental glances at the other clan cats. They loomed like colossal shadows, stark black against the moonlit gathering, towering ominously like vultures awaiting the end. Every full moon, they assumed this sentinel-like presence, more akin to bodyguards than guests at a social event. Yet, if one watched closely, one might catch them in rare moments of mingling—either with each other or with any brave soul daring enough to approach.
"It's hot tonight." Loonfoot grumbled, his voice a low mumble as he lapped at his white-speckled legs in a futile attempt to cool down. He ignored the fact that his sister's coat was twice as thick as his own.
Midnightchirp side-eyed him, her cold blue eyes gleaming subtly. Loonfoot was large, sure, but compared to her, he was merely a cub standing next to a mountain. "I oughta sit on you." she threatened, the words delivered with a deadly calm that lacked any hint of a smile.
Loonfoot met her gaze, testing the waters. Midnightchirp was usually serious, her demeanor a stark contrast to the sweet, bubbly persona their mother, Nightchirp, had embodied. She bore her suffix in honor of their mother, yet lived up to none of her warmth. He found this contrast amusing but stifled his giggles, knowing better than to provoke her openly. They locked eyes for a few tense seconds, the silence thick with anticipation, until Loonfoot finally broke it with a disbelieving scoff. "Yeah, right—oOF!"
In one fluid motion, Midnightchirp sat on him, her massive form pinning him effortlessly to the ground. Her long, lazy tail dangled at his nose, and Loonfoot's struggles beneath her were muffled, his pleas for release absorbed by her thick pelt. The heat was stifling now, twice as oppressive with her weight bearing down on him. Midnightchirp smirked, a rare, inward chuckle echoing in her mind. That'll teach him.
Lostspark had recently made it a habit to linger at the corners of Gatherings, safely enshrouded in shadow, away from the prying eyes of those who wanted to pester her, or those who judged her for stepping down from Medicine Cat Rank. Not that it bothered her much - she had done what was best for her, for ShadowClan, and additionally fully trained Mossfreckle before she'd stepped down and rejoined the Enforcer ranks, so ShadowClan was not bereft without her.
Now, she watched from her corner, her clouded amber eyes - supposedly meant to be blind - all-seeing, resting on her mother. Dawnstar was a formidable figure, and ten times that of an opponent. She would be fine, no matter how much Lostspark's instincts gnawed at her to edge closer, so she could put the first cat who looked at her mother wrong in the ground. Pushing these decidedly unproper-for-gatherings thoughts aside, the scarred grey Enforcer turned her attention instead to the crowd. With RiverClan missing, it was strangely peaceful.
Peaceful enough for two cats to be tussling (of sorts), Lostspark mused as her gaze latched onto the pair. Odd, to put it simply. Merry ShadowClanners. Okay, Lostspark supposed it was not that much of an oddity, and she was certainly not judging them - not all had a life as gloomy as hers had fashioned out to be lately - but it was still... intriguing. Midnightchirp and Loonfoot, if she recalled correctly. Siblings. Kin of blood, if she (mostly her roleplayer) assumed correctly.
Unfettered curiosity prickled at her pelt, and the heavily scarred female found her paws already moving, soundless against the ground, the graceful movements of a shark gliding through water after scenting blood.
[ Shadow Fiend Inactive ]
Safe to say, Lostspark may or may not have given her newfound companions a fright as she emerged from the shadows, glassy, supposedly-blind eyes turned towards them. "Tussle later." She spoke after a moment, voice a low rumble. "WindClan and ThunderClan are not our allies, regardless of any peace treaties under the full moon." Lostspark would definitely break any treaty if the Queen of Mean - Dawnstar - was put under risk, ever the dutiful bodyguard.
__________________
❝ Leaving them feeling betrayed.
Breaking the bonds that you've made. ❞
Lostspark had recently made it a habit to linger at the corners of Gatherings, safely enshrouded in shadow, away from the prying eyes of those who wanted to pester her, or those who judged her for stepping down from Medicine Cat Rank. Not that it bothered her much - she had done what was best for her, for ShadowClan, and additionally fully trained Mossfreckle before she'd stepped down and rejoined the Enforcer ranks, so ShadowClan was not bereft without her.
Now, she watched from her corner, her clouded amber eyes - supposedly meant to be blind - all-seeing, resting on her mother. Dawnstar was a formidable figure, and ten times that of an opponent. She would be fine, no matter how much Lostspark's instincts gnawed at her to edge closer, so she could put the first cat who looked at her mother wrong in the ground. Pushing these decidedly unproper-for-gatherings thoughts aside, the scarred grey Enforcer turned her attention instead to the crowd. With RiverClan missing, it was strangely peaceful.
Peaceful enough for two cats to be tussling (of sorts), Lostspark mused as her gaze latched onto the pair. Odd, to put it simply. Merry ShadowClanners. Okay, Lostspark supposed it was not that much of an oddity, and she was certainly not judging them - not all had a life as gloomy as hers had fashioned out to be lately - but it was still... intriguing. Midnightchirp and Loonfoot, if she recalled correctly. Siblings. Kin of blood, if she (mostly her roleplayer) assumed correctly.
Unfettered curiosity prickled at her pelt, and the heavily scarred female found her paws already moving, soundless against the ground, the graceful movements of a shark gliding through water after scenting blood.
[ Shadow Fiend Inactive ]
Safe to say, Lostspark may or may not have given her newfound companions a fright as she emerged from the shadows, glassy, supposedly-blind eyes turned towards them. "Tussle later." She spoke after a moment, voice a low rumble. "WindClan and ThunderClan are not our allies, regardless of any peace treaties under the full moon." Lostspark would definitely break any treaty if the Queen of Mean - Dawnstar - was put under risk, ever the dutiful bodyguard.
Midnightchirp & Loonfoot of ShadowClan
Midnightchirp eased herself off Loonfoot the moment Lostspark materialized from the shadows, her cold blue eyes briefly meeting the scarred Enforcer’s before settling back on her brother. With a curt nod that seemed more an act of acknowledgment than apology, she muttered, "Fine," her voice as steady as ever.
Loonfoot, still rattled from both his sister’s pinning and the abruptness of Lostspark’s appearance, clambered to his feet. He brushed the dust from his fur with an irritated flick of his tail, embarrassment simmering just beneath his pelt. The startle had jolted a newfound respect for Lostspark into his core. "Right, sorry Lostspark," he mumbled, casting his sister a sharp sideways glare.
"Good point, too," Loonfoot added hastily, trying to recover some dignity and perhaps win Lostspark’s favor. Uncertainty prickled at his chest fur as he spoke, his cheeks warming. He shook his pelt, a feeble attempt to disguise his lingering embarrassment. "We prefer not to mingle with the other clans for that reason. Hence, why we are back here."
Midnightchirp remained stoic, though she couldn't resist rolling her eyes at her brother’s ineptitude around authority—a flaw he had possessed since birth. She found it weak and embarrassing, but tolerated him nonetheless. He was, after all, the last of her blood. "Mhm," she agreed lowly, her gaze drifting toward the chattering crowd. Small talk was a mystery she had never cared to unravel. Fortunately, her brother managed such interactions with ease, even if he was a complete mousebrain.
As if synchronized with her thoughts, Loonfoot, having regained some composure, took a seat and glanced thoughtfully between his sister and the Enforcer. "Care to join us?" he asked Lostspark, his tone hopeful.
Re: July Gathering
