SUNFLARE he/him. 28 moons. golden tabby; ginger and white markings; amber eyes, tattered right ear
[ beefed up T1, just a scratch ]
sunflare seems almost oblivious to the shadowclanner's overall stiff demeanor, simply continuing to grin at him. luckily he's sat on the right side of flytail, so his good ear is already angled towards the tom. "is that so? well, that's wonderful! it's always nice to hear that the other clans are doing well!" he chimes with a few nods.
"thunderclan is good as well!" he says with a booming laugh. he thinks he'll leave out the part where there was a failed rebellion. he still cannot believe there are cats so reckless and disrespectful.
his eyes widen, if they even can get any wider, as he seemingly realizes something. "oh!! how rude of me, I didn't ask your name! what is your name?"
The larged marbled tabby was close behind Dawnstar as ShadowClan entered the clearing, ear flicking as he noted they had arrived first. Sitting down with a swish of his tail, he watched ThunderClan arrive with slitted eyes.
The newly named Enforcer kept his eyes on both Dawnstar as well as the clearing, begining to slwoly groom his pelt. Hopefully, no other clan cat would come to speak to him. If it was his own clan, he'd be more.. willing.
[ open to anyone! don't care what clan no matter what mr. grumpy paws has to say /silly ]
Hawkbite had gotten settled when his gaze settled on his fellow Enforcer. He hadn't interacted with this one yet, perhaps the Gathering was a good place to start? Perhaps. The tom lazily got to his paws and padded over, giving a gruff greeting as he sat down beside Tuftedtusk. "Avoiding the other clans too?" Hawkbite would inquire, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the mingling clans.
Hawkbite had gotten settled when his gaze settled on his fellow Enforcer. He hadn't interacted with this one yet, perhaps the Gathering was a good place to start? Perhaps. The tom lazily got to his paws and padded over, giving a gruff greeting as he sat down beside Tuftedtusk. "Avoiding the other clans too?" Hawkbite would inquire, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the mingling clans.
Tuftedtusk
He/Him / Enforcer / 28 moons / ShC
---
Tuftedtusk's eyes shifted over to Hawkbite, his commander. He stopped grooming and huffed air out of his nose, ear flicking and tail swishing idly. "After RiverClan.. yeah." He rumbled, gazing at the tom. "Never know who you can trust. Plus, you can learn a lot by observing. I don't need to talk to other clans to figure things out."
He didn't know why cats felt the need to talk to others to gather information when you could just observe. Even the subtlest things can be found this way. Expressions, tail swishes, ear flicks. All can be a tell of how a cat feels.
Hawkbite nearly scoffed at the comment, but he wasn't any better about the trust thing. Not with the recent come and go of the Enforcers. He hadn't participated in the battle with RiverClan, but heard enough about it. He was sure there'd be plenty of drama about it tonight. A small sigh would escape him as he glanced up towards the moon and stars.
Without looking back down, he'd simply continue the conversation. "You think StarClan will punish us again for driving them out? Like they did the one Gathering with the boulder?" He could still hear the screeches of pain from the warrior who was crushed. He grew curious on how she was doing, but it wasn't his problem in the end.
Small, skinny, black she-cat with a light gray belly and tail-tip, a mangled tail, a crooked jaw, and one blind eye.
It was a nice night. A full moon hung in a black sky, shedding its abundant silvery light over the world. Stars were strewn about like dandelion seeds. They winked jovially. The air was cooler than it had been when the sun was in command, but it was a pleasant type of cool, not the chill that made Twistedpaw's crooked jaw and mangled tail grow stiff and achy. It was nice not to have heat blaring down on her while she made the long journey with the rest of her Clan to the Gathering.
Despite Twistedpaw's age, she had never been to one before. Her mind wouldn't stop racing. Even as she walked through territories known and unknown to her, leg muscles bunching, she hardly felt any strain. She was getting stronger... but she was only halfway in this world.
On one paw, she was nervous about the upcoming Gathering. RiverClan wouldn't be there, thank StarClan. But there would be a ton of other cats from ShadowClan and ThunderClan. Are they friendly? Twistedpaw wondered. Or will they be rude and hateful? Her own Clanmates were already mixed on their opinions, and she knew how far some cats could go. Like Willowsky... Flutteringkit... and... A shudder passed through her small black body. Rosebriar.
That was what lay on the other paw. Recent events clouded her head, pouring in like rainwater into a rabbit burrow. Wolffang's dying words couldn't stop echoing through her mind, nor could the patrol's reports of what they had found - and, of course, the body itself. The coyote killed him. Mangled him. She swallowed the wave of horror that nearly knocked her off her paws. Killed him because... because he was trying to save me.
Of course a Clanmate would try to save another Clanmate. That was what Clan cats did for each other. Still, even though Twistedpaw had gotten over her long-ago phase of "I hurt everyone around me and I don't deserve anything," she couldn't help but feel guilty over Wolffang's sacrifice. What if my deformities slowed me down? What if I could've done something different? What if...
She shook herself, and her crooked jaw swung, the oversized tooth at its edge gleaming in the moonlight. Batglare wouldn't want me thinking like that. I need to think practically. Rosebriar lured the coyote to us. We fought it as best we could, but it was too strong. Way too strong. It... it couldn't have gone any other way.
It still hurt, though. Immensely. Knowing she had been there, knowing that he had died for her.
However, there was something else on her mind. A matter far more pressing that sealed her throat with honey and scorched her eyes with smoke.
Brightpaw - her lovely foster sister - was missing.
Twistedpaw's pawsteps slowed, and her crooked jaw gaped as a stab of pain hit her right in the chest. She couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her round cheeks this time. Brightpaw... She remembered those awful moments spent searching the apprentices' den, then all around camp, for the tan-and-white she-cat. Calling Brightpaw's name, staying up at night, sobbing into her abandoned nest. Fireflame left... why did you have to leave, too? Maybe, one day, Brightpaw would come back. But that day might never come. As much as Twistedpaw hoped it would, as much as she stared up at Silverpelt and prayed, deep down, she knew the likelihood was very low.
It hurt so much. She wanted Brightpaw back.
But she was gone.
That was part of the reason Twistedpaw had come tonight. She needed something, anything, to distract her. She also needed to do this if she was to become a warrior. Socializing with cats from other Clans, listening to the leaders' announcements in-cat (in-person)... that was all an important step in her training. It would also aid her personal growth. As much emotional pain as she was in, she knew she had to keep moving forward, even if it felt like she was wading through the river.
A strange, salty scent flooded into her distorted nostrils. Twistedpaw hastily wiped the tears from her mismatched eyes and looked up. Her grief was promptly overtaken by wonder. Batglare had shown her the beach before, but it was even more impressive at night. The Seastones were bathed in an ethereal glow, jagged and smooth edges alike glittering with starlight. The ocean was huge, a dark expanse of water that tossed and churned the lights from the sky above. Twistedpaw breathed it in. The salt-scent relaxed her, though her stomach did a nervous flip when she detected the pungent odors of ThunderClan and ShadowClan. Not RiverClan. I really hope they don't show up.
The small, skinny she-cat stepped onto the sand. Her eyes widened a little. It was so... well, it reminded her of the old WindClan camp, devoured by the fire all that time ago. Had so many moons passed already? Twistedpaw ignored a pang and rolled the familiar yet new grains beneath her round black paws. How long had they been here? Steady, unchanging? Whereas, in the Clans, new kits were born, many died or went missing, wars were waged, blood was shed. And her life had gone through so many drastic changes. It had been turbulent from the beginning, like the ocean's crashing waves. And it was turbulent now. Always moving, never stopping.
No matter how much it hurt, Twistedpaw wouldn't freeze again.
She shook herself to disperse the pricks of grief, longing, and fear that pressed in on all sides. She should really get to know cats from the other Clans. Maybe someone around her age? Though everyone my age will be a warrior by now, she thought regretfully. She knew she'd needed that time off, but still, it felt awkward. She was so old compared to all the other apprentices.
Twistedpaw soon came upon a cat who reeked of ShadowClan. She forced her distorted pink nose to not wrinkle; she didn't want to offend the other she-cat. This cat appeared to be around her age, maybe younger but old enough to be a warrior. Though they were both small, the similarities ended there. This cat was chubby; Twistedpaw was skinny. This cat was fluffy; Twistedpaw's fur, though messy, was short. This cat was russet with notable brown and white markings; Twistedpaw was almost completely black save for a light gray belly and a bulging, dented, light gray tail-tip that hung awkwardly behind her single tiny ear. And, of course, this cat wasn't deformed.
"Hello," she meowed politely, trying not to sound too nervous. Her voice was a little more distorted than she would've liked thanks to her earlier crying. A bit stuffy, too. She sniffled. Oh, StarClan, please don't let there be tears on my face! Her dark fur would hide any tracks, but any residue was sure to glow in the moonlight. "Um... I'm Twistedpaw. I know, a bit old to be an apprentice, but..." She paused. She didn't want to be vulnerable in front of a cat from another Clan. She bit down her instinctual desire to explain herself. What will I do if this cat asks why I'm still an apprentice? She'd think of something; she had to.
"What's your name?" she continued, scuffling her paws in the sand. She liked the feel of it. The constant movement helped calm her a little.
__________________
Some of my characters think or act in ways I disagree with. Please understand that I do not support or condone these thoughts or actions.
Hawkbite nearly scoffed at the comment, but he wasn't any better about the trust thing. Not with the recent come and go of the Enforcers. He hadn't participated in the battle with RiverClan, but heard enough about it. He was sure there'd be plenty of drama about it tonight. A small sigh would escape him as he glanced up towards the moon and stars.
Without looking back down, he'd simply continue the conversation. "You think StarClan will punish us again for driving them out? Like they did the one Gathering with the boulder?" He could still hear the screeches of pain from the warrior who was crushed. He grew curious on how she was doing, but it wasn't his problem in the end.
The tom followed Hawkbite's gaze to silverpelt, scanning the shining expanse of stars that gathered in a large swath like cobwebs. At his question, he flicked his tail.
"If RiverClan is as guilty as they are, StarClan shouldn't and wouldn't punish us. And based on the evidence, RiverClan deserved what they got." The marbled tom took his eyes off the stars and began to groom again, drawing his tongue over his flank, licking his healed wounds as he remembered the battle with Owltalon for what seemed like the billionth time.
IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE
AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ❊ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
GOLDENPAW . 6 MOONS . HE/SHE/THEY . THUNDERCLAN
"Ohh....my tummy, noooo..." Goldenpaw gives a theatrical squirm of discomfort, making sure to curl herself into a tight, protective ball. Gosh, look at that, she's already learning so much. These two are good, like, proto-mentors, practically. Realistically Goldenpaw knows they're just being good apprentices; smart, clan-educated, mindful young cats being exemplary representatives for their clan at the biiiiig fancy meeting-of-the-clans. And he's appreciative of that, really—impressed by it even—but that's simply not an attitude that he's willing to emulate (even though he knows it would be in his best interest to at least try).
With any luck, this flippant behavior will be sanded down and rectified during Goldenpaw's training. As things are now, though, Leapingpaw and Bitternpaw are stuck dealing with a cat who's still convinced they'll be able to win everyone, ever, over as a friend. Little by little.
That's the dream, and the dream is of paramount importance.
"M'kay, so the belly's sacred then. Gotta keep it nice 'n safe. Will keep in mind...many thanks." Goldenpaw mews, whiskers twitching, ringed tail tapping the ground. "But I knew y'all wouldn't hurt me. Not for real. 'Cause it's the rules an' you both seem reeeeaaally good at rules. Y'all got anymore good tips for this poor, idiot apprentice?"
Goldenpaw doesn't think of himself that way, mind. He knows he's probably not a genius, and he knows there's a lot that he simply hasn't learned yet, but he tends to have a pretty positive opinion of himself and his intellect. The thing is, if these two feel most comfortable looking down on him as an idiot (and boy, does the critter play the role well, sitting there with this lax, goofy expression), then he'll lean into it. Cats who don't like to be silly usually still like other things, like being right. Goldenpaw can make them be right, then.
So, she'll be an idiot! But she won't be unteachable. While Goldenpaw thinks the literal act of keeping low so that these Shadowclanners could quite literally continue to look down on her would be very funny—hysterical, almost—, she doesn't want either of them to think that they're talking into a void. At Bitternpaw's behest she seats herself properly, and keeping Leapingpaw's lesson in mind, she tucks her legs in close and wraps her tail neatly over her paws, tummy safely concealed. Look! Normal sitting. Goldenpaw seems very proud of it.
"It'll be a pleasure to have met me someday, y'know. You'll see." They assure Leapingpaw, sounding all earnest. Then, with a fast blink at Bitternpaw, they ask: "What was your other time like, then?"
"Ohh....my tummy, noooo..." Goldenpaw gives a theatrical squirm of discomfort, making sure to curl herself into a tight, protective ball. Gosh, look at that, she's already learning so much. These two are good, like, proto-mentors, practically. Realistically Goldenpaw knows they're just being good apprentices; smart, clan-educated, mindful young cats being exemplary representatives for their clan at the biiiiig fancy meeting-of-the-clans. And he's appreciative of that, really—impressed by it even—but that's simply not an attitude that he's willing to emulate (even though he knows it would be in his best interest to at least try).
With any luck, this flippant behavior will be sanded down and rectified during Goldenpaw's training. As things are now, though, Leapingpaw and Bitternpaw are stuck dealing with a cat who's still convinced they'll be able to win everyone, ever, over as a friend. Little by little.
That's the dream, and the dream is of paramount importance.
"M'kay, so the belly's sacred then. Gotta keep it nice 'n safe. Will keep in mind...many thanks." Goldenpaw mews, whiskers twitching, ringed tail tapping the ground. "But I knew y'all wouldn't hurt me. Not for real. 'Cause it's the rules an' you both seem reeeeaaally good at rules. Y'all got anymore good tips for this poor, idiot apprentice?"
Goldenpaw doesn't think of himself that way, mind. He knows he's probably not a genius, and he knows there's a lot that he simply hasn't learned yet, but he tends to have a pretty positive opinion of himself and his intellect. The thing is, if these two feel most comfortable looking down on him as an idiot (and boy, does the critter play the role well, sitting there with this lax, goofy expression), then he'll lean into it. Cats who don't like to be silly usually still like other things, like being right. Goldenpaw can make them be right, then.
So, she'll be an idiot! But she won't be unteachable. While Goldenpaw thinks the literal act of keeping low so that these Shadowclanners could quite literally continue to look down on her would be very funny—hysterical, almost—, she doesn't want either of them to think that they're talking into a void. At Bitternpaw's behest she seats herself properly, and keeping Leapingpaw's lesson in mind, she tucks her legs in close and wraps her tail neatly over her paws, tummy safely concealed. Look! Normal sitting. Goldenpaw seems very proud of it.
"It'll be a pleasure to have met me someday, y'know. You'll see." They assure Leapingpaw, sounding all earnest. Then, with a fast blink at Bitternpaw, they ask: "What was your other time like, then?"
Ugh! What in the world was it doing?! It was one thing to spit meaningless warnings but to actually go as far as placing a paw on an enemy apprentice? If this escalated into something more Dawnstar would have their pelts. Ears laying back he reaches forward to bat Leapingpaw's paw away from the younger apprentice's belly, fixing his sibling with a stern look.
"Enough. Tonight is for socializing and sharing information. It's not your duty to teach idiot apprentices lessons their mentors should be giving them." He barks, eyes narrowing as he shifts his gaze unto Goldenpaw. "And you. Get off the ground, would you? It is right-- you shouldn't be showing your belly to cats that could be your enemies."
Honestly... He was used to being the voice of reason in most cases but he didn't think he would have to at a Gathering! Settling back into a comfortable seat, his tail once again curls over his paws, tall ears perked and alert to the noises around them in case the leaders wanted to begin their announcements.
"I've been to a Gathering before, yes. Though I was far less... Excitable when attending my first one."
Leapingpaw groan when its unfriendly demeanor didn't get this cat to get like a tree and hit the road. It put a paw to its head as its let its fustrations be known to the world while letting out a long sigh. It wasn't sure what else it could say to this apprentice and honestly it didn't want to say anything else. Instead it watched over its brother to make sure nothing too much was divulged but it had confidence enough in Bitternpaw, it just couldn't help but worry. Also it was a bit hurt that Bitternpaw went to a gather without it, did his big brother mean nothing to him?? Oh Leapingpaw had to hide the hurt with its usually standoffish look. Maybe the two of them were in a desperate need of sibling bonding if Bitternpaw didn't want to go somewhere with his sibling!
Lightningpaw would pad onto the beach with the rest of his Clan. Windclan could finally breathe easy it would seem for a but. Not that Lightningpaw knew anything for certain this was his 3rd Gathering now and the other 2 were filled with tension. Lightningpaw prayed to Starclan this meeting wouldn't be so bad. As he would be lost in his thought though Lightningpaw would bump into another cat knocking him out of his thoughts. Lightningpaw was a small lithe orange tabby with yellow eyes and a Lightningbolt scar on his flank from a hawk grabbing him as a kit. Lightningpaw was 9 moons old but he looked like a 7 moon old Apprentice due to his small build. Lightningpaw would look up at the cat he bumped into. "Sorry for that. I was thinking about stuff while I was walking and not looking where I was going." Lightningpaw would apologize to the cat. @Fish
Re: July Gathering
