November Gathering

[Minku]

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Sunsetgleam
RC Warrior. They/Them. 17 Moons
Mind Reader | Herbal Knowledge T2 | Rapid Recovery | Bewitched [always active]
"Harrowing, searching through the ever expanding darkness"

[ @ ]
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Y'know, it was only now Sunsetgleam remembered one time they met another apprentice with the same name as them when they were still 'Sunsetpaw'. They wondered where the she-cat went. It seems that every cat they form a bond with vanish into thin air. Both inside and outside the clan. Sigh. They don't really have anyone. They're really just hoping they'd bump into someone or vice versa and then boom! Instant friends! That'll at least free them from the eeriness that had always followed them everywhere they go. They did think originally it only appeared when their mind wasn't occupied with something. Clearly, they were too wrong. They still see those mirroring blue eyes everywhere they go. Orange pelt a shade lighter than their's. They took a seat somewhere in the crowd, trying to pay attention to the leaders and not let their eyes drift elsewhere

[open]

[nyme]

HE'S GOT A TEMPERATURE OF NEGATIVE DEGREES AGAIN

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✪ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

PEACHPAW . 7 MOONS . HE/HIM . THUNDERCLAN

Peachpaw's back straightens the instant he realizes that he's sat himself within a tail's length (a typical tail, not the short-to-nonexistent kind like he and one of those stranger cats has) of a pair of Windclan warriors. Steely blue eyes shoot a long sideways look at the pair, and he's practically holding his breath in anticipation, anxious to see whether his closeness would be acknowledged at all. Should he hope that it is? Is it better if it isn't? He's thinking of subtle yet hopefully polite ways to inch away from them—surely they don't want some Thunderclan apprentice in their business, and he doesn't want to get himself into an uncomfortable aituation by loitering so close—when one speaks up, and the other responds. They're both right: it is pretty cold. Peachpaw finds himself nodding along in agreement. That urge to slink off to safety is still there, but it's quickly overshadowed by his sudden desire to participate in this discussion; the kneejerk response of a young cat wanting very much to feel grown-up, and of a pro-complainer wanting very much to commiserate with others

"Does Windclan get terribly cold during the darker seasons?" He pipes up, shoulders so stiff and squared that he's bound to be sore tomorrow from holding such an impeccable posture. "You all don't have any trees or undergrowth to break up the wind-chill, right? That sounds awful."

@Cloverspring ; SIXFOOT
@Cherry_Blossom ; WHITEFLAME

[Daragca]

Cottonpaw
he/him | Windclan Apprentice | 7 moons
The Collector - Lucky Duck T1
The Stowaway Child
[24/100]

His very first gathering, Cottonpaw was a bundle of nerves. His tail vibrated at light speed, wiggling this way and that. He’d bundled himself inbetween a couple of Windclan warriors, it was really the first time he had seen cats from the other clans. They had a strange scent to them, a lot more pungent than their border markings. But they didn’t seem nasty, many chattering and mingling with smiles upon their faces.

But others were quite frankly terrifying, some with gnarled thick scars. With a grumpy look to their faces, scary to think if it wasn’t for the protection of the gathering that they would likely eat him alive.

Eek!

He found himself backing up, making himself particularly small. Until he realised, he was rather separate from Windclan now. Rather alone in a pool of cats he barely knew. Tears pricked at the corners of his yellow eyes as he cowered down further backing up. Feeling underfoot a creamy brown tail he’d accidentally just stepped on. Oh boy.

[​ ​@Fish ]