Scalepaw sighed as he listened to cats talk to each other and twilightstar calling a meeting and all that. Nothings the same anymore, and it seems his future will always feel lonely even though he has snowybreeze and ashclaw. His one good ear tweaking around fast as he tried to catch every sound around him but alas it is hard, His tail covered his disabled hind leg and his paws shuffled into his pelt. Now he was loafing sorta but it was somehow still comfortable, He had no trinkets or feathers that could remind him of the good times.
The sad face deepened as he shrugged into a puffy ball of grey fur. His ears finally catching a familiar voice, it was snowybreeze. He stayed quiet for some times before answering his brothers request, his head lowered as he answered in a stuttering way"u-uh e-er s-sure t-that w-would be n-n-nice" he tried to choke out. His brothers voice seemed to be soothing every time they interact, His head lifted as he blankly just laid there.
The tom had almost forgotten what snowybreeze or the other clan cats looked like. another sigh escaped him and he fiddled with his paws, would he make a good warrior with all his disability? A worried thought of that gloomed over him like a dark cloud with rain dropping down.
There was a sense of accomplishment in walking over the new, mostly untouched ground so different from the moons of wear in the old camp. They'd survived and they'd learned to push on. But Pignut couldn't relish in any of it. Beyond the taint of loss or hardship that this new ground signified, last night had been a week since that dreadful night and he hadn't seen her. Worry creased his every thought. Had something happened to her? Or did she simply not want to see him anymore? He wanted to say he hoped the latter, to at least know she was safe, but either had the same outcome for him. He tried to satiate himself with thoughts that he was overreacting, there'd be a lot to figure out, but the dark pit in his stomach told him too much. He sat down at Twilightstar's call and turned his face up to her, hardly seeing her but banishing the thoughts racing in his mind, turning his tongue sour, so he could focus on the meeting itself.
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Longmoor--She/Her
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Longmoor hadn't been sitting far off when she noticed Twilightstar leaping up the maple tree, a smile tugging at her lips as she thought of how unnatural the graceful leader looked sitting under the shade of sharp-edged leaves. Seeing no reason to move from her spot Longmoor simply turned to face the Galewood, her tail resting neatly atop her paws.
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Large, muscular, dappled gray tom with light fluff on the front of his neck and chest; amber eyes.
Wolffang was so glad WindClan had found a new home, but it still felt... strange. Wrong, even.
His amber gaze traveled around the terrain that felt assuring and foreign, home and not home. There was the flat, grassy clearing, lacking the sand that had coated the old one and dotted with ferns; the tightly woven bramble wall, which concealed a drop off a cliff on three sides that, though blocked off, made his pelt prickle; the heather-topped warriors' den, resting by the camp entrance; the nursery, protected by an impenetrable-looking bramble thicket; the den where the only two elders slept, sheltered beneath tall grass and a mossy tree stump in a sandy badger sett whose former occupants also made his fur rise; the apprentices' den, a space dug by WindClan cats beneath a large, spiny gorse bush; and the towering maple tree that Twilightstar now called meetings from, which housed both the leader's and medicine cats' dens.
He didn't want to sound ungrateful - he would thank StarClan every day for the new home they'd helped WindClan discover and the cats who'd searched for it. Leechscar, his former apprentice whom he had a less-than-ideal relationship with, had been one of them. Although a part of Wolffang's mind wished such an important task had been left to someone who actually cared for the Clan, he felt an odd sense of pride that the wayward tom had agreed to do something so important for WindClan. His mind flashed back to the conversation they'd had when Wolffang took him out on his first territory tour. Leechscar, then Leechpaw, had stated that he didn't respect the warrior code, but he'd work for WindClan. His feat was an example of that. Such disrespect shouldn't be tolerated, he thought, but... Though Wolffang had never spoken with Twilightstar, he understood that some cats wouldn't change no matter how hard others tried. Leechscar was one of those cats. As long as he serves WindClan and doesn't cause any problems. Still, his paws itched as he wished again that he'd finished Leechscar's training and guided the warrior better.
Pushing thoughts of the complicated relationship he had with and the dislike he held for his former apprentice, Wolffang refocused on the camp. It's a nice place to live. We got lucky. It had everything WindClan needed to live there. The brambles protected it, and the dens were secure. His mind flashed back to how hard every cat had worked to make it an ideal living space. It warmed his heart to think of how his Clan had worked together in a time of need. However, pain clutched his heart with claws as sharp as the protective bramble wall. We may have found a new place to live, but our old home is gone. Even referring to it as his "old home" filled the former deputy with indescribable grief. He would never forget how the flames had torn across the moor, destroying everything in their path, or the Clanmates they'd lost along the way. He bowed his head for a moment, overcome. He didn't think he'd ever stop mourning the destruction of his birthplace or the deaths. Please, StarClan, guide their paws to your hunting grounds and treat them well.
The destruction, as terrible as it was, hadn't been the only issue WindClan had to face. Wolffang remembered the claustrophobia of the tunnels, the Dusk Syndicate attack, which he'd unfortunately been unable to take part in because he'd been helping the Ashfeather look-alike - more than a look-alike - the struggle of living without a home, the attack of the foxes, the exposure to Outsiders, and those who had gone missing. He hadn't seen Bravebird, Barleybite, or Lilyantler in a while. The claws around his heart squeezed harder, and dark red blood seemed to pour from the rips they induced. I hardly saw Lilyantler during the fire, and Bravebird and Barleybite...
He should've talked to them before everything went to the Dark Forest. He had time, but he didn't use it. Why? he asked himself, flicking his tipless tail in frustration. Were you scared? A coward? Or too caught up in other things? Yet he'd had plenty of free time, right? Before the fire drove WindClan out of its home?
In finding a new place to live, there was hope, which poured from the horizon and filled even the darkest of hearts. But many pieces of Wolffang's felt heavy as he thought of all that had been lost. Like a stone with wings, it lifted and fell again repetitively as loss and love warred to overtake him. How could he live with both?
But life had to move on, as hard as it was.
Twilightstar's meeting call, familiar yet strange as it bounced off the walls of this new place differently than it had in the old camp, sounded from the tree - the Galewood, she'd named it. Wolffang looked at the massive maple tree and spotted his leader, the most formidable he'd ever known, sitting atop its branches. The look on her weathered face was stern, but Wolffang caught the glint of her claws as they gripped the bark tight and her bushed-out fur. Clearly, she didn't feel comfortable up there, and he sympathized. I would never willingly go up a tree, he thought, suppressing a shudder. He certainly preferred the Breezerock.
But that was gone. With a pang in his heart, Wolffang padded forward, feeling the smooth grass beneath his paws and the sun's golden warmth beating down on his dappled gray pelt. The scents of fresh growth and a hint of heather from the warriors' den drifted into his nostrils. My home, he reminded himself. Yet it still felt foreign. Familiar. No, foreign. No, now he knew how it felt: just plain weird.
His Clanmates were gathering, and Wolffang's gaze passed over them. One of the first cats he spotted was Mothpaw. Seeing the severe burns all over the cream-colored apprentice's body made his stomach clench sympathetically. I got lucky. Every cat who'd avoided such severe injuries had. All around, he spotted signs of injury: Cowtuft's limp and Tigerpaw's unsteady gait were examples of that. He felt for each and every one of them. Please, StarClan, help them recover quickly. And if they face permanent injury, help them deal with it the best they can.
Thankfully, there were plenty of cats who looked content. Kits excitedly bounced toward the towering maple tree; cats emerged from dens, yawning as if having woken from a nap. Lightningpaw, the new medicine cat apprentice - and Leechscar's former apprentice - looked exhausted. Wolffang didn't know if he should feel guilty for thinking it, but he was glad that Lightningpaw was now taught by someone who worshipped StarClan and wanted to care for his Clan, not a wayward warrior who scorned both. Leechscar would teach them to be strong and clever. He'd give them the necessary skills, but... still. From the dark gray tom's lack of respect or care for the Clan's functionality, Wolffang was sure he'd leave other necessary parts out of training. It made his fur prick.
He shook himself. Whatever happens with Leechscar happens with him. Despite his faults, he wouldn't be a terrible mentor. Briarpaw drowning wasn't his fault. He had plenty of good qualities. Twilightstar might be caring, but that didn't make her a fool. If she gave him apprentices, she trusted him. Leopardsong seemed to trust him, too. That wouldn't make Wolffang like him or ignore his faults, but... maybe he should keep his nose out of his former apprentice's business unless it became an issue that had to be addressed. Leechscar was his own cat now, and he could make his own decisions. That doesn't make it any less irritating, though.
Any thoughts of Leechscar were completely shed from Wolffang's mind. His gaze flitted across the crowd, seeking a familiar slender, snow-white, leopard-printed pelt. The upset feelings when Wolffang left to head the patrol to find the remains of the old camp had calmed down and been settled. Now he wanted to sit with Leopardsong. She'd been hanging around the kits lately, so if she wasn't available, that was alright. However, in this time of pain, confusion, and renewal, Wolffang desperately wanted to smell her sweet scent and feel the touch of both her soft fur and companionship.
As his large, sturdy figure moved through the crowd, trying not to knock into anyone with his broad shoulders, Wolffang spotted Moorpaw. Briefly, he faltered. His kin was someone else he had to talk to. Should I sit with her instead? he wondered. But they wouldn't be able to talk much during a meeting, and it would be best to talk properly afterward. So, Wolffang turned his paws to her, wanting a quick word before the first announcements began.
"Hey, Moorpaw." His stomach felt tight. StarClan, why was he so nervous? Well, he knew why, but it still felt... weird. In a different way than the new camp, of course. "I... I hope you're doing okay after the fire. If you're up for it, we can talk after the meeting. Catch up. I know we haven't had a proper conversation yet, and I'm sorry for that."
Without waiting for a response, Wolffang turned and vanished into the crowd. Well, "vanished" as much as a cat of his size and stature could. Should I have waited for her response? he wondered, feeling nervous. He shook his head. I'll speak with her after the meeting. If she wants to, of course. I need to find Leopardsong.
Or maybe he should've stayed with Moor-
Stop. It. Again, Wolffang would talk to her later, at a more appropriate time.
As the warrior tried to spot his closest friend, the cat he loved, his gaze occasionally strayed to Twilightstar. Every time he saw her balanced precariously on that branch, her lilac-gray pelt puffed out, a beacon among the dark brown branches, he almost cringed. But he kept his face neutral. Maybe, when I find Leopardsong, we can move to the ground in case Twilightstar falls. Wolffang knew there were other cats, but he wanted to be in a good position to catch the leader if need be.
@Undertaker (Leechscar mention) @lio (Mothpaw mention) @x ghostie (Cowtuft mentioned) @CreeperLover649 (Tigerpaw mention) @Alchemist Kitsune (Lightningpaw mention) @Moonraven (Leopardsong - I assume Leopard and Wolf would've talked their feelings through when Leopard was upset with him going on patrol injured, and Wolf got anxious about her anger. I hope that's fine with you! If not, I can edit my post.) @Abyssopelagic (Moorpaw)
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Not roleplaying for now; indefinite hiatus
As soon as Mousefern heard Twilightstar call for a clan meeting, she was padding towards the Galewood to listen to what she had to say.
[ Open for interactions! ]
Slightpoppy
As the she-cat padded over to the galewood she spotted her sister. Happy to see her, Slightpoppy trotted over to her. "Heyy sis" She greeted Mousefern with a smile.
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Twistedpaw sat in a corner of WindClan's new camp, her small body wedged between two dens. Shadows fell over her black pelt, concealing her. However, her ugly, bulging, light gray tail-tip stuck out like a beacon, hanging behind and between her extremely small ears. Oh, how I wish I could move it! she thought unhappily. As she had many times before, she put all her energy into her mangled tail, trying to angle it so it didn't stick out so obviously. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. Her tail-tip and other bits twitched, but her tail stayed in place, hanging over and around her like a jagged branch growing out of a tree. Twistedpaw gave up with a small sigh. Why can't I just look normal? she wondered unhappily. Who was born with a tail like hers? Ashfeather. But she didn't know the other she-cat, who had died before she was born, and as Twistedpaw had determined, she was worse than whatever Ashfeather's conditions had been.
Still, Batglare's words rang in her mind about how her deformities made her unique and special, not hideous and monstrous. Twistedpaw so desperately wished to believe him, and her Clanmates had been so kind, but... I hurt my mother. I hurt my friends and family. I'm weak, and I take so long to train. I'm slow. Pathetic. Three moons had passed since Twistedpaw started her training, and she knew about half as much as the other apprentices her age. I want to be a warrior, and Batglare has made me believe I can be, she thought. A spark of hope and determination kindled in her heart, flashing warm and yellow. But I'm still ugly. I've still hurt other cats. I don't... I don't want to hurt anyone else.
She had friends, cats who loved her, but she'd known them since kithood. Well, except Cloverpaw and Batglare - though she wasn't sure if she could call him "loving" - but still. She was scared to make new friends. Batglare said she wouldn't be judged, so why had Willowsky and Flutteringkit hated her so much? Everyone was probably judging her, or at least, most cats were. The thought of interacting with Clanmates she barely knew made Twistedpaw shrink beneath her pelt. She could already feel their harsh, judgmental stares and hear their barbed comments. She understood why they acted the way they did - who wouldn't when presented with such a hideous, unnatural freak of nature? - but it still hurt. It made her scared. So, Twistedpaw resolved that she'd stick to cats she knew and hide from everyone else. She knew now that it was okay to be loved, but she wouldn't judge those who hated her, no matter how much it hurt. She deserved it. I'll have to talk to new cats eventually, especially if I want to be a warrior, she thought, her heart jolting. The idea made her scared, but... she'd have to do her best. I deserve their disgust. It hurt, but if she understood... why was she so scared of it? The words were nasty and hurtful but deserved.
So, as she'd done in the old camp, Twistedpaw stuck to the corners, dens, and shadows. Also, admittedly, she'd eaten less. She'd never quite managed Batglare's two-mice-a-day policy, but during the fire, her prey consumption had dropped. Her ribs were showing again beneath a weak frame, which was stronger than when she started out, but still delicate. The memory of the fire - the yellow and orange flames eating the grass, spreading across the moor faster than a running rabbit - made her shudder. There'd been the terrifying dash from camp; the attack from the Dusk Syndicate; the desperate search for a home; and the attack from the terrifying foxes. She shuddered. I'm glad WindClan has a new home, but it feels... different. She wished she could stay close to someone, but often, she preferred to be alone. She didn't want to annoy Batglare by hanging around him all the time, and she was sure he needed alone time. As for her friends, she couldn't be near them all the time, either. They were busy, and she didn't want to constantly burden them with her presence. Still, they were nice to talk to.
Twistedpaw stayed near the camp wall, trying not to think about the cliff waiting beyond the bramble wall, though she knew it was secure. I'll stay here for a while and see what my Clanmates are up to, she thought.
Suddenly, Twilightstar's meeting call sounded. Twistedpaw jumped out of her skin, landing awkwardly on four round paws. Her tail unbalanced her, so she listed to the side. She dug her paws in, using the little leg muscle she'd built up to steady herself. She righted much more easily than she had when she started out, that's for sure. But I still get unbalanced, and I'm weak. No normal cat would have to deal with this. The apprentice looked up at her leader, who sat atop the new Galewood. It was a grand tree, stretching so high up that it made Twistedpaw dizzy. Twilightstar's so brave, she thought admiringly, noting the leader's stern expression and bushed-out fur. She's scared, but she's courageous enough to address the Clan. Unlike Twistedpaw, who quailed at the thought of putting one paw on a tree. Or talking to other cats, really. Addressing a whole Clan... Her eyes widened in horror at the thought. I could never do that!
Pushing down the anxiety generated by her thoughts, Twistedpaw began to pad forward. She kept her head down, wishing her small, skinny frame didn't make her mangled tail stick out so much. Ugly. Ugly. Everyone must be looking at me... Her cheeks burned. All around her, Clanmates converged from the clearing or emerged out of dens, yawning, bounding, or limping from fire-related injuries. Despite her ducked head, she kept her crooked jaw tense, hoping it looked a little less terrible. Pressure seemed to build on her shoulders, forcing her down, but she kept moving. These are my Clanmates. Clanmates who probably hate me... Twistedpaw tried to ignore her nausea. Oh, StarClan, I should've stayed in the corner! But she wanted to sit somewhere among her Clanmates. Why? Was she using this as an excuse to get away from a corner, which was protected but unfamiliar? Okay, so the camp is making me a little nervous... We have a new place to stay, but great StarClan, I'm scared! It was all unfamiliar.
The black she-cat wanted to find a good spot close to the back but not completely detached from the others. Somewhere she wouldn't be noticed, but where she'd be with other cats. I've gone too far into the crowd, haven't I? With her ducked head and only one working eye, she couldn't see very well. It didn't help that her stomach was clenched, and her heart rate was beginning to increase as her mind focused on the proximity of her Clanmates. Twistedpaw had been forced to be close to her Clanmates during the fire, but she'd still stayed out of the way, mostly sticking to Batglare, Brightkit, and anyone else she was close to. Now that they were settled... She felt a tad more comfortable, but she was still scared of their hateful eyes and comments she knew were brewing in their heads.
Suddenly, she crashed into a soft surface. Twistedpaw stumbled back, stunned. What had she hit? She blinked, her bulging tail-tip twitching and crooked jaw swinging, and realized she'd bumped into a Clanmate. Horror clutched her with sharp claws, and the world spun. Stupid, stupid Twistedpaw! She wanted to run and hide shamefully in a corner, but her paws remained rooted to the grassy earth. All she could do was stare in mortification at the cat she'd collided with and wait for their furious words.
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Not roleplaying for now; indefinite hiatus
Last edited by TheNyanCatMinecart; June 6th, 2023 at 06:30 PM.
As Fogpaw yawned and started to walk towards the meeting, she felt a clanmate bump into her, "Sorry!" Fogpaw said worriedly. "Are you okay?!" she asked the she-cat. After looking at the she-cat, she realized it was Twistedpaw. To Fogpaw, she seemed cool, amazing and unfazed by her unique attributes, noticing that she was staring at the she-cat, she decided to introduce herself. "I'm Fogpaw, if you didn't know me by the way." She said happily.
Re: WindClan Galewood
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