Salamanderpaw feels so stinkin' silly it's insane. What'dya say last time? Waaah, Seapaw, I never wanna go to another Gathering ever again! The memory of her time and a half last go around has her going all hot in the face, embarrassment at her own theatrics hitting hard. She wishes she could travel back through time, grab her own ear, and shake. Listen, dummy, you know how to do hard stuff so just DO it. No good running away because you got all nervous. No good. Absolutely none. That's why she's back. Well, that, and there's an ugly prideful part of her that doesn't want a certain someone to get the wrong idea if she never shows up to another one of these ever again. Sure, part of her knows it's none of that kid's stupid business where she is one night a moon, but Salamanderpaw would rather eat rocks than live with the idea that someone out there who she has nothing to do with might think he got the better of her.
It's all about pride in the end, whether that's pride in her clan or pride in herself. She's going to keep showing up. She's going to exercise restraint (which is hard) and practice thinking smartly (which is super duper crazy hard). She's hopefully not going to threaten to drown anyone else here ever again. These are all necessary discomforts that must be suffered by any good warrior, and Salamanderpaw is determined to be a good warrior.
Shadowclan are all here already, and Salamanderpaw finds herself grimacing. Even after all the learning she's done about Riverclan's relationship with the other three clans, even after all this uncomfortable reflection on the Great Big Question (Have We Really Deserved All This?) and her begrudging acceptance of the nuance therein, she still—totally—irrevocably—hates those guys. Any guys that aren't her guys? Yeah, hates 'em. The rush of hostility hits her before she can think any better of it and then there is no thinking better of it. Maybe this is just how she'll always feel. Maybe no amount of learned context or perspective will change that. That's fine by her. So long as she learns how to be hateful and furious and not act on that kind of thinking when it's not the time, then she'll never have to work to correct it. This is probably some unspoken thing that everyone has to figure out on their own. Everyone hates anyone who isn't them and theirs, everyone wants those strangers dead in the ground immediately, and everyone has to learn how to act otherwise for at least one night so they can share news and whatever.
She can do that.
She can do that.
The stocky little calico sticks close to her clan as they all file in, broad paws crunching over the icy sand. This time when she settles in it's not quite in the same broody-corner as she'd chosen last time. She's close to her cats. She will not stray.
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Re: February Gathering
Quietmouth looked around at the Riverclan cats as they came to the Seastones. He knew it was awkward making conversation with any other cats because he was mute, but he always tried, and he was constantly getting better at it. Not to mention, he was getting really good at figuring out what others were saying by noticing movements and mutters in his ears. He waited a bit for cats to go to talk with each other to find any that were alone. He then noticed a shaggy calico apprentice who was on their own. They seemed to be on guard, hiding emotions as if they were worried that something embarrassing would happen if they didn't.
He went over to them and purred, then sat and looked at them, nodding his head toward them as they looked at him. Let's hope they get it. He hoped to himself as he waited for any sign of a response.
@nyme [OOC: Note that Quietmouth is essentially deaf, but I don't think Salamanderpaw would necessarily know that.]
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Re: February Gathering
Fogmask looked around, hoping for someone to come and start a conversation with him.
[Open to all, preferably not Riverclan, but RC is still ok. ;p ]
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Forgive me for any errors I make, as I might be doing multiple RPs at once or just having a Dyslexia or ADHD spike.
I probably won't start an RP, but you bet I'll make it fun as my Characters are mostly extroverted, and each has its unique quirks and backstory.
If you want me to respond quicker, use #K2 alongside your mention, as that lets me get emails for it.
Feel free to sign up for our weekly bible study here.
Have a great day and GOD BLESS!
The elder nodded his head to the apprentice, watching as Riverclan came wandering into the clearing. His sharp eyes followed each of them, counting how many were there.
Shadowclan had an objectively tense relationship with them, but every clan seemed to right now. Their new leader, Owlstar, had been regarded as a good enough warrior, and an average leader so far. Still, it had only been a few moons, so it was hard to tell. And what was a good warrior, if not Shadowclan's own? No cat from another clan ever really earned Mudburr's praise, because they couldn't.
The brown tom shuffled his prickly brown chin fur around, eyes checking to see if there were any Riverclan elders he was familiar with. Hopefully not. "Do the other clans often take this long?" He queried the apprentice.
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Oh her eyes get big. Cursed. She must really, really be cursed. Last time it'd been that Thunderclan flea and now it's a whole entire Shadowclan warrior. Who...is. Purring? Salamanderpaw looks around owlishly, trying to catch whoever must be playing such a weird, sick joke on her. That's got to be it, right? There's some kind of crazy stupid prank being pulled on her right now and someone, somewhere, is laughing their whiskers off at her expense. Maybe it's this guy. Maybe that's why he's purring.
Salamanderpaw's coat bristles indignantly and her lips start to peel back into a snarl—no! No. Bad. Deeeep breath. In, out. She can do this. She is doing this. This? Oh buddy, it's done. Salamanderpaw chokes down a thick swallow and sets her hackles right. She can keep it cordial. No threats and no fangs and no tantrums. She can pretend she doesn't hate this guy's guts on principle. She can, because that's what warriors do.
Salamanderpaw forces a tight, formal nod back. Are we just doing quiet time or what? After a beat, she (totally not guessing that this cat is hard of hearing because how could she?) starts in on what she really super hopes is, like, a good and professional and normal-please-I-am-trying-to-be-so-normal-to-you-right-now way to address a warrior from another clan: "Hey...uh........good evening or whatever." Yeah that's good. Good evening is super uptight and impersonal. You only use that if you're strangers or a weirdo. "It's uhh. Pretty cold out tonight, huh? Why are you over here."
In the end, a low snarl sneaks out anyhow. Perhaps she's overestimated her self control but once she'd opened her mouth it had felt practically impossible to dodge the big question on her mind. "Sir?" She's quick to add. Salamanderpaw's never been one to care about honorifics or to use them the way she's seen others, but they feel like safe things to lean on when addressing warriors outside of Riverclan. It's a total sneakcheat mindset that has her thinking this, though, and therefore one that she isn't very proud of; if she plays a good and respectful little apprentice around big, bad strangers, then she won't get into any trouble with them. Or if she does, then everyone'll think it was their fault. Because she was polite. Or something like that.
Still makes her feel yucky. She regrets it quickly.
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Re: February Gathering
Quietmouth looked at the apprentice patiently as they tried to figure out what to do. He felt sympathetic toward them, remembering that that is how he was when he first came to gatherings, though this she-cat was likely on edge because of meeting another clan, not because they were afraid of getting into an awkward conversation. Finally noticed that the apprentice spoke, so he nodded his head in greeting again, figuring they were greeting him. He hoped they would figure out that he might as well be deaf, soon.
Fogmask looked around for a conversation to partake in and saw Quietmouth over by the on-edge apprentice, Salamanderpaw. He figured it would be a good idea to step in.
"It's alright." Fogmask comforted Salamanderpaw. "Quietmouth can't hear unless you're very intentional about it and doesn't care about what cats think of each other, he just wants a conversation." Fogmask rubbed his head against Quietmouth's shoulder and brought his muzzle close to the Shadowclan tom's ear. "Salamanderpaw." He meowed in a normal tone. Having had conversations with Quietmouth before, he knew the best way to talk to him.
He sat back and looked at Quietmouth, then looked up at the sky, then fluffed out his pelt. "I'm telling him that it's been really cold lately and am asking about Shadowclan's weather."
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Quietmouth nodded at Salamanderpaw when Fogmask told him her name. He then sat and watched as Fogmask communicated with him, and he recited what he figured the Riverclan tom was saying. He's probably saying something like, "It's been cold in Riverclan, how about Shadowclan?" Confirming the question by thinking of the situation that just occurred a few seconds prior a few times, Quietmouth purred and did a short nod of his head to confirm that the weather hadn't been much different. He then looked at Salamanderpaw, waiting for them to 'say' something, curious if they would figure out how.
@nyme [OOC: If a conversation with a 'deaf' cat is too awkward, feel free to have Salamanderpaw leave. I would like to practice 'talking' with Quietmouth more, though.]
__________________
Forgive me for any errors I make, as I might be doing multiple RPs at once or just having a Dyslexia or ADHD spike.
I probably won't start an RP, but you bet I'll make it fun as my Characters are mostly extroverted, and each has its unique quirks and backstory.
If you want me to respond quicker, use #K2 alongside your mention, as that lets me get emails for it.
Feel free to sign up for our weekly bible study here.
Have a great day and GOD BLESS!
Shaking some snow off of his pelt as he trekked after his leader in the cold, Sunheart felt himself feeling slightly on edge. Before, he had just attended the Gathering as a normal warrior- Head Lionheart or not- as far as he was concerned. Now, a whole new responsibility and title sat on his shoulders, and cats would be looking at him to help represent RiverClan as well.
The new deputy had to admit, he felt comforted whenever Owlstar turned to look at him with a warm gaze, as if solidifying her trust in him. He gave her a warm blink and a nod in response, doing his best to look confident and resolute. He could do this. He was not going to be the sorry deputy that he could only assume the other clans would think of him. Not tonight- not ever.
When RiverClan finally reached the Seastones, Sunheart looked at Berryshine and Owlstar and purred, his tail quivering with anticipation. He looked surprise as Owlstar asked him to scale the stones. "The Seastones?" He echoed, dawning a sheepish grin. Ah, yes. There was a stone for the deputies. He supposed he should make his way over there, now that he was deputy..."Er, yes!" The begal bengal trilled, turning and looking uncertainly up at the icy rocks. What if he slipped and made a fool of himself? No, he couldn't think like that. Besides, it looks like the snow wasn't so compact that it would just cause him to slip and slide. Readying himself, the tom launched himself onto the deputy stone, turning to look at Mistlewhisker, the ShadowClan deputy.
After a brief moment of deciding what to say, Sunheart opted to give the other deputy a respectful dip of his head despite his tail tip twitching to and fro with his suspence.
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He/Him | ShadowClan Aid | Herbal Knowledge Tier 1
Rockjaw padded in after his Clan, looking miffed as always. He clicked his jaw, eyes lighting up with interest as he spotted a new cat sitting on the deputy stone. Who was that? A river rat? Interesting...interesting, indeed. Anyways...
Cinderspark
~<>~
14 moons || she/her || ShadowClan Warrior small black tabby with minimal white markings and 3 legs; amber eyes
Cinderspark had not made it a habit to come to gatherings. She wasn't overly fond of seeing the other Clans and she could always hear about what happened from her siblings or her mentor. Rookfire always came to these even if he didn't always seem like he was happy he'd gone upon ShadowClan's return home. She was going to make an effort to come to this meeting, though, seeing as it would be her first as a warrior. As Cinderspark.
Gingerly so she doesn't slip on any of the ice, the tripod follows along after her Clan and takes up a seat near the edge of the bulk of ShadowClan's ranks, watching for when the other Clans join and sneering internally as the first to arrive is RiverClan.
Re: February Gathering
