TW: Sensitive Content Shipyard CAN YOU TAKE THE HEAT? = [ intro ]

[clay]

{$title} be aware! there is loss of family, gore, mentions of cannibalism, murder, and being hunted mentioned! you can skip to the last paragraph to skip most of that!

Her paws fucking hurt.

Wild eyes snapped backwards, mismatched goldens wide. The wounds on her face were still bleeding from them. Them, them! They were behind her- they were behind her! A shriek left her lips as she continued to run, pawpads nicked and bleeding as she hopped through brush and under fallen rubble. Mother had brought her here once- a long time ago. Told her of family, of cats she could go to. Mother. Mother, Mother- her thoughts cried to turn back and return to the thing she only knew as a corpse now, to smell her one last time. Why did they live so far from this place?

Her lungs burned and her heart thundered. Her paws were cut now, leaving blood in her trail, but she was too worried about going forward. She knew where she was going. Clay was careful, constructive about how she picked her way back to where her and her family nested, away from the shipyard, with crying seagulls and the scent of salt thick in the air. Mother told her it was important. Clay's head shook as she run, her fur snagging on the wild growth here and there, tears and blood sliding down her face.

Gruesome was only a word for what she had seen, returning from playing on the roof of a building. Fangs sinking into her mother's flank, rogues with haunted looks turning to look at her. Meat. They had called her that and nothing more. Clay hadn't thought twice. Didn't take a second look back at her mother. She had turned and ran, only one cat in mind she needed to find. The only safe place she had been told about. A screech left her lips as she stumbled, ears flattening against her head as she continued to run. Past the gate at the entrance of the shipyard, into the decaying and algaed, haunting figures of ships abandoned by twolegs.

"Lichen!" Clay sobbed out, head snapping to and fro if any cats gathered. She'd slide to a stop, shoulders lifting and falling rapidly, making it clear that Clay had been running for a long time. Mismatched goldens snapped to and fro at any of the Shipyard's inhabitants that exited their hiding spots to look at her, to call to her. A step backwards, bloody paws sinking against concrete. "Stay back." She whispered out, voice hoarse and throat sore from the crying she had already done. Please, no more. All she wanted... All she wanted was the smell of sweet grass and now-fading milk pressed to her flank. She wants her mother back.

"speech"
// @lichen
// no need to wait for her tho!

 

[Russetfall]

FALLING FOR THE PROMISE OF THE

EMPTINESS MACHINE

Her head snapped from her fishing attempt in the direction of the shriek, paws that quickly led her in the direction of the noise. A kit wailing at the entrance had her stop in her tracks, uncertain about what to do to help or if she even could. Bloody pawmarks were left on the concrete as the kit stepped back and Russet found herself gritting her teeth before stepping forward as a name familiar to her ears dropped from the little one's mouth.

"Hey, hey..." She never considered herself good with children but still Russet felt she had to try to console the kit before she could lead her to Lichen, if the molly wasn't in earshot already. "You're ok, no one here's going to hurt you."

Her emerald gaze drifted from Clay's bloody face to the gate she had run through. Where was this child's mother..? She could take a guess based on the circumstances but hoped it would be wrong.

"You can call me Russet, and I can take you to Lichen if you'd like." A moment of hesitation, a slow uncertain smile spread across her face as she dared to step closer, trying to seem as harmless as possible as she did so. "...Can you tell me what happened, kiddo?"

ITS BEEN DECIDED HOW WE LOSE

───────i only wanted to be part of something──────

• 
  Russet
  — Future Riverclanner
  — She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  — A Green-eyed Chocolate Mackerel Tabby With Low White
  #8a2c55

 

[lichen]

lichen

Her paws had been buried in the icy grip of the bays waters, trying to free the webbing between her toes of the sticky slobber of a child that had chewed on them like a teething toy. her brow furrows in frustrated disgust, grumbling her distaste under her breath, "Smoke.. I love you but I swear on the tide I'll throw Bee into this damned water if she does it again..." The threat goes promised but ultimately never fulfilled as prophesied... Granted a distraction in the form of a shrill cry calling for her name.

The scruffy nape of her neck stands on end, recognizing the fear that layers that yell- but the voice isn't familiar to her. It is not her mist and shadow mates... nor the younglings she mothers (with so much restrained disgust; no one told her how nasty infants were). Immediately she flicks her paws to dispel the extra water, placing them damp against the frigid, porous stones that threaten to freeze her pads to them. Her strides are rigid with wary worry, long and slinking in her stature as she rounds the dilapidated, wrecked silhouette of what once was a fishmongers shop.

There is a collection of ruddy stripes, decorated by crimson that wells around raw, aching feet. Russet has already joined the quivering girl, trying to coax the quills on her back to flatten. Ice travels against flame, trying to find a feature on her that might be familiar, might identify her... nothing strikes memory.

"No need to find me... I heard," the lynx point meows, closing the distance with a broken tail flicking her agitation. "How did you know my name? Who are you?"

 

[clay]

Mismatched goldens narrow at Russet as they appear- another step backwards, ears flattening against her skull, tears still dripping from her eyes, mixing with the blood from her muzzle and above her eye. One of those rogues got her good, given the state of her face. Clay was wary of any and all cats right now- except for one. She knew there was one cat she could trust. "I don't trust you." The words are out of Clay's mouth before she can help it, an immediate response to Russet's statement.

Because, in truth, what made any cat look different then the monsters curled over her mother's corpse? Teeth grit briefly as another figure appeared, and there were things that immediately soothed Clay's raging nerves. First and any was the shape of the cat- Lichen looked like a ghost walking, the sharp angles that her mother wore matching with this cat. The second was that she did recognize this cat, oddly shaped bangs and all, from a previous visit. Two breaths were sucked in, still on the verge of hyperventilating, before words flung from her spit addled muzzle.

"My mother is dead." She managed, teeth gritting directly after, the words only loud enough for the three of them, and any other approaching Shipyard loner, to hear. "You. You are my aunt. You- Marsh. Marsh, my mother." The longer she spoke, the weaker her voice, ears tipping backwards and eyes filling full of blood tinged tears. Slowly did she sink to her haunches, head ducking beneath her shoulders, trying to guard her body. A long and quiet moment passed, then, "They were eating her." Clay's words are almost silent, but as that statement leaves her mouth, she seems to remind herself she was being chased.

Despite the exhaustion eating at her very bones, the kitten turned, eyes staring at the Gatehouse. No, there was no sign of the rogues following her anymore, but if anyone was to investigate, the scent trail would be present. Mournful, pained, Clay turned her vision back towards Lichen. "Help me. What... do I do?" Kitten-voice trembled, blood dripping off of her chin yet, right eye swollen from the cut above it.

"speech"

 

[willowburn]

(☾) "bee's not even the worst," a grumble escapes the maw of the smoke tabby as she splashes in the water beside lichen. "have you felt cicada's teeth? it's like he's part shark, i swear." amusement decorates the feline's tone, even as she licks a half-wounded paw, the memory of her nephew's fangs still imprinted into it. "they'll grow out of it. i hope." with a half-hiss the woman sets her paw back into the icy depths, nose wrinkling as the bitter taste of salt water hits her tongue. she is about to offer to aid her brother's... friend in her quest to remove the baby slobber when a cry splits the air. the voice is young, desperate, and for a moment, willow's fur spikes, searching for the telltale voices of duck or goose, the little squeals of bee, cicada, cricket. the voice belongs to none of the five, but it still cries out for lichen. as her friend leaps up and towards the noise, the smoke feline follows swiftly, paw pain forgotten.

skidding to a stop beside the frost hued woman, concern immediately melts into willow's green gaze as she fixes it upon the crimson dappled youngling. her eyes flick to russet, who has found this child first, and then to the space behind the girl, where she keeps glancing back to. every hair on the feline's body senses danger. she lurks at her brother's mate's friend's side, a shadow. the dappled girl breaks out in sobs, spit flying from her maw as she gasps out her horror. dead mother, dead... sister of lichen. a glance is sent the point's way, brow furrowed. if it is so, then this girl is... family. in whatever twisted and tangled sense of the word it could be.

"they were eating her."

this is what tears the breath from the smoke tabby's body. she exhales sharply, jaw clicking. rogues, eating this baby's mother. another cat! horror passes like a shade over the woman's eyes, and she swallows. this is a situation in which she cannot act before her friend. all eyes turn to lichen, watching, waiting.

WITH THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // " #979c88"
• 
• WILLOW ☾ SHE / THEY, SHIP-YARD CAT. 30 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a lithe black smoke feline with ghost striping and leaf green eyes. long smoky fur dashed through with grey and white adorns her frame, sliced across by darker stripes that frame her face and legs. eyes like sage, brilliantly green, gaze with an intelligent look. she is scarred across the bridge of her angular nose.

 

[CICADA.]

In the absence of the adults, he grows troubled. There are few cats at the shipyards, and fewer still he cares to talk to besides. His eyes are inured to fur of grey and black and white; color frightens, startles, bright poisonous flares he takes care to heed. When he cannot find Papa or Haze or Lichen, he goes to one of his siblings; when he cannot find any of them within the expanse of his eyes, he goes looking. Big paws slap the rotting wood of the docks as he does so, prowling, a tiny cave-painting panther left in situ mid-stalk.

" Lichy? "

A tight knot of bodies fan out alongside her blue-pointed one, making his hackles knock up. He hesitates—but when he notes Willow among their number, he inhales and plunges into the small gathering as if it were a roiling sea. Lichen's striped foreleg is his port, and he clings to it, his only bastion against battering waves of voices and fur. As if to hail her, he digs his canines into her forelimb in a kitten-bite.

Russetfall is deemed sadly irrelevant—downright intimidating, in fact, and he reluctantly detaches his teeth from Lichen's leg so that he might scoot further from her. It brings him closer to the safe haven of where Willow and Lichen's limbs closely stand, a forest of comforting slate-blue and ash…

…but also directly to face the hunched, flame-painted kit bunching her limbs down close to her. Blood—painted starkly crimson to his innocent eyes—oozes from her brow, her paws. When he parts his jaws on instinct, copper paints the air instead of only salt. He contemplates words and then thinks better of it, electing to hunker down in the grove of familiar legs and stare with wide eyes.

​

 

[Russetfall]

FALLING FOR THE PROMISE OF THE

EMPTINESS MACHINE

Russet can't help but nearly sigh in relief that Lichen and then Willow appear as quickly as they do; they were more experienced with children than she'd ever be. Green eyes dart from Lichen and Willow back to the child as she made her opinion about Russet's presence clear and she took a step back to give the kid some space.

"Smart kid," She murmured. "I wouldn't have trusted me either if I was the first cat I saw."

Russet's concerns are made painfully true as the kitten speaks, words tumbling out so quickly she almost doesn't parse it any of it. So this was Lichen's niece if she was to be believed, though the molly didn't seem to recognize-

'They were eating her.'

Every hair along her back stood on end for a brief moment before the tabby forced her fur to flatten. Rogues eating another cat... Her mouth opened, prepared to say her opinion on the matter before noticing Cicada sitting between Lichen and Willow. "...Fox hearts." It was a low growl as she glared at the gate, stepping around the child to trot to the entrance with a lashing tail.

She had run all the way here...if the rogues were still following her Russet would be first the see them.

ITS BEEN DECIDED HOW WE LOSE

───────i only wanted to be part of something──────

• 
  Russet
  — Future Riverclanner
  — She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  — A Green-eyed Chocolate Mackerel Tabby With Low White
  #8a2c55

 

[Brook]

⋆˚✿˖° I was dancing in the rain, I felt alive and I can't explain

Brook's eyes narrowed as she heard the panicked cries of the stranger calling out for Lichen. Her head tilted slightly, curiosity piqued, but a protective instinct flared as she glanced down at Lilac. The kit was still so small, and the loss of Rain weighed heavily on both of them. The thought of leaving Lilac alone, even for a moment, made her heart flutter in fear.

Though she was tempted to investigate, she didn't move far. Her ears were focused on the sounds outside their selfmade den, eyes flicking toward the gathering of cats. Others were already rushing over to investigate the newcomer, and Brook spotted Lichen among them. Tthen, the words of the stranger cut through the air, causing Brook's heart to tighten in her chest.

The kit's mother... had been eaten? The revelation chilled her blood. Her breath caught in her throat as she pressed Lilac closer to her side, her tail curling protectively around the small form of her kit. They had lost their mother… and now they were running, fleeing for safety.

Her stomach twisted as fear clawed at her. She knew the dangers of the world outside their little haven, and the thought of this kit... this young one... Being left to fend for themselves sent a surge of anger through Brook. Someone had to look after them. Someone had to protect them. She was certain that somehow, she would find such protection here. Whether it be from Lichen or someone else.

" Stay here, child. " Brook murmured softly, her voice low but firm. " You either stay here, or you stay close to me. Promise me you'll do either or... " Gently, Brook nosed Lilac, urging her to stay hidden as she rose to her paws, her eyes now narrowing with determination. The protective mother in her rose to the surface, the need to help this kit, to ensure their safety, overpowering everything else. She made her way out from the den, keeping her movements slow and deliberate as she approached the group, her eyes scanning for any signs of danger.

As she neared, her gaze settled on the injured kit. Without hesitation, she spoke, her voice steady, yet edged with concern. " You're hurt... " she said. Her eyes flicked to the stranger, her expression sharp. " Who did this to you? "

Her gaze shifted to Lichen and Russet, the weight of her words following. " Fret not for your life here. If anyone dares to step close to you, there are many ready to bare their teeth. " She met Lichen's eyes for a brief moment before returning her focus to the kit. They needed help.

This kit would be cared for. No one would harm her here.

✿────────────── ──────── Brook ──────── ─────────────✿

•  
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• 
  
  
  

 

[lichen]

lichen

The revelation is one made of barbed wire and brimstone... painful burns, scores like claws down the sensitive flesh of the underbelly. It wasn't as if she'd never struggled before, as if they'd never endured the need to flee and survive but. . . her gaze flicks from different parts of Clay's small, shivering body, stains of crimson, stripes of carefully braided sepia. Marsh, aptly named in conjunction with her siblings, if it weren't for the circumstances she was sure Willow would give her a proper ribbing for how corny having a named set is- the same sort of loving teasing Smoke had been given for naming the kittens after bugs. Her pupils shift as if still searching for something, still examining but the movement is mechanical, a veil that masks how aimless and faraway this all is.

Up until an aforementioned little shark sinks pearly whites into her leg- "Ack! Cicada," the lynx point practically barks. "Teeth hurt... Sharp, remember? Like we talked about?" He doesn't seem satisfied enough with that introduction, scooting closer towards Willow who is given an exasperated look- it was like she'd predicted his appearance by naming him earlier at the shoreside. But even that... painful wake up call doesn't stir her from whatever sick dream this must be. Pale blues look for Clay... her niece again. Lips draw back into an agonized frown.

What do you do with that sort of information? Protect her, obviously... but... what about Marsh?

She lifts a paw, beckoning her closer in an awkward gesture, "Come on- Brook's right. You're safe here," her tone is flat, unflinching... You'd hardly be able to guess the news involved a horrific family death. "We'll get you cleaned up and warm." Uncertainly, she reaches to touch her nose to Clay's ear very briefly, pulling away just as quickly as she'd attempted it with a grimacing sort of, "Good job getting here.... kid... You did the right thing." Not for any other reason than doing what her mother would've wanted her to do: survive.

 

[clay]

More cats arrive- and even as she speaks sharply tilted words, it causes a ripple in the crowd. The horror of eating another cat alone sparks fear, nausea in Clay- but anger follows it just as swiftly. Yet, she is scared first and angry second, fear having caused her to leave her mother's body behind. To leave that nest decorated in small bits of seaglass and other trinkets from the abandoned twoleg nest they lived in. The realization that she'd never be able to return there, not alone, causes her ears to fold backwards and teeth to grit tight together. Yet, Lichen is speaking, so she must listen.

Mismatched goldens find that of her aunt, staring at her. Ack, Cicada! Her head draws backwards, as if stung, the sudden noise causing her a small . Her eyes bore into that of the spindly legged kit inbetween those of her aunt and.. what appeared to be her aunt's friend. Brook's words caused her to glance towards the encroaching cat, and a frown crossed her mouth. Who? Sharp, acidic words left her mouth. "Cats. Rogues. Monsters." Clay spat them out like flame coated her throat, like it would settle the roaring in her heart, but nothing was going to calm her nerve. Not right now. Lichen approaches next, and her vision shifts towards her aunt, a frown on her blood-stained muzzle still.

Clay is beckoned forward, even as cats go to guard the shipyard gate. Wary eyes flick towards the entrance again before she relents, slowly stepping towards Lichen. Grimaces of pain cross her face as she moves, her body struggling with the pain in her paws now that the adrenaline was slowly leaving her body. Her aunt's nose touches her ear, but she barely moves, unflinching. Shock would likely take the place of the fear-fueled adrenaline soon, so even as she looks up at Lichen, mismatched golden eyes remained glossy. ".. Okay." She whispers out, because what else was there to say?

"speech"

 

[Brook]

⋆˚✿˖° I was dancing in the rain, I felt alive and I can't explain

The sight of the poor little one tugged painfully at Brook's heart, her chest tightening as the kit spoke. The venom in the young one's voice was unmistakable, and Brook's fur bristled when the truth hit: the ones who had harmed the kit's mother were other cats... rogues. Rogues who saw no worth in the mother's life, viewing her as nothing more than another... meal? The thought alone made Brook's stomach churn, her hackles raising instinctively. She fought to keep calm as she gently brushed her tail along the kit's side, guiding her toward safety.

Lichen had done her best to provide some semblance of comfort, but Brook couldn't shake the fear that the young one might soon succumb to shock. The horrors the kit had endured and the sheer will it must have taken to get here... it was overwhelming, even to imagine.

Her gaze shifted to one of her older kits as they padded closer to Lilac, offering Brook a curt nod before turning their attention to her sweet kit. Brook's ears flicked back slightly as unease settled in her chest. She didn't like being apart from Lilac for even a moment, but she forced herself to focus, glancing at Clay instead. " We have cats who can take care of you. " she murmured, her voice soft but steady, her words directed at the little one. " They'll check out those paws and make sure you're alright, okay? Fret not, little one... " She cast a wary glance over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the shadows from where they'd come.

The fear that the rogues might follow, that they might try to take her own kits from her... It gnawed at her resolve, but she forced herself to push it down. For the kit's sake, she needed to appear strong.

" You're safe now. " she said firmly, turning her attention back to the kit. " I promise you. You're safe. "

✿────────────── ──────── Brook ──────── ─────────────✿

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[willowburn]

(☾) eyes round with concern, the slender feline brushes lichen's side in a comforting manner. she knows not the other's relationship with her sister, knows not what emotions her friend must be feeling, but the horror clinging to willow's throat as she swallows is most likely echoed in lichen's. large, kittish paws slap the wood, heralding cicada's arrival. he gnaws quickly on lichen's leg, prompting a sharp reminder, and then tumbles into the crook of their bodies. willow tucks his gangly self into the feathery twist of her tail, unease growing in her belly. her brother's son is no stranger to blood, but this type of violence is foreign to him. silently, she wishes it could remain so unknown to the boy. lichen beckons the girl forth, and she obeys, scrawny legs supporting a crimson painted body. brook seems to appear out of nowhere, offering words of comfort as well. willow watches it all, brow furrowed, pondering.

"we have room in our den," she murmurs to lichen, head tipped. the old fisherman's shack she shares with her brother, lichen, haze, and the younglings may be slightly cramped, but one more small body won't hurt. "smoke and haze won't mind." if they do, she'll give them a talking to. emerald eyes fix upon the rust dappled child again. "brook speaks the truth - there are cats here who will fight to defend you. i am sorry about your mother." crouching to level her tall body with the smaller one, willow offers what she hopes is a kind look. "i'm willow, a friend of your aunt. this is cicada, my nephew," gesturing with her tail, she taps cicada's angular head, keeping him close. "what is your name, young one?"

WITH THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // "#979c88"
• 
• WILLOW ☾ SHE / THEY, SHIP-YARD CAT. 28 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a lithe black smoke feline with ghost striping and leaf green eyes. long smoky fur dashed through with grey and white adorns her frame, sliced across by darker stripes that frame her face and legs. eyes like sage, brilliantly green, gaze with an intelligent look. she is scarred across the bridge of her angular nose.

 

[Wave]

Wave of RiverClan

Wave had watched the interaction between the stranger, Clay, and the shipyard cats with a quiet, observant gaze. When Brook stepped forward to comfort the kit, Wave finally rose from her perch. With a fluid leap, she landed softly and padded closer, concern clear in her icy-blue eyes. She brushed lightly against Willow in a friendly, reassuring manner, offering her silent support.

" Oi, wee tike... if my friend's place feels a bit cramped, ye can share a nest with me and Adder. " she said gently, her voice softer than usual, though the sea-roughened accent remained. Her eyes flicked to Willow, worry shimmering in their depths. What had this kit seen to bring him here, alone and afraid?

" The poor wee thing's seen somethin' terrible, no doubt. "

Whatever storm had carried Clay to their shores, they would ensure it never found him again.

HOLD ONTO ME AS WE GO ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— As we roll down this unfamiliar road

 

[Adderfang]

Truth be told, he had no damn clue what was going on.

A few choice words pricked his ears—mother—dead—rogues—monsters—eating.

The kit that had stumbled into their patch of sand was bloody and battered, barely holding it together. Adder had seen his share of death, enough to recognize just how unwell she was. Adder's mind drifted to the rogues he once knew before he met Wave—to what remained of his family. Would they have done something so grim? Maybe once, he would have denied it. But now that he lived long enough to know just how cruel the world could be?

Well, there was no mercy for the weak, especially not when resources were scarce.

While the others fussed over the kit, Adder was on high alert. He stood stiff, legs planted firm in the sand, ears twitching at every shift in the wind. His eyes swept ridgeline, looking for any sign of movement beyond the battered kit. The frantic, tittering voices around him barely reached. He stuck closest to wave, flank pressed against hers in silent reassurance—for her or himself, he wasn't sure.

He turned a shred of his attention back to the group. There was talk of finding her a place to stay. Adder didn't like the idea of another mouth to feed, but that didn't mean he was cold enough to send the brat back where she came from.

Whatever they decided, he wasn't gonna let whatever happened to that kit, happen to his family. There would be hell to pay if any stray came skulking around looking for a new target.

They won't find one, not here.

___________________ There wasn't a wrong or a right he could choose 𓆟 He did what he had to do ________________

• "speech" - thoughts
  

• 

• Adderfang he/him & riverclan
  𓆟 Chocolate ticked tabby w/ amber eyes. Peppered with scars. Deep gash across the right side of his face exposing one canine slightly.
  𓆟 Deep gravelly voice that might unsettle others.
  𓆟 Would and will kill a man.
  𓆟 Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted For other powerplays, DM.
  𓆟 Fur smells faintly of river reeds and damp earth.
  
  @KNOT
  
  penned by Scarlet​

 

[Smokewreath]

all you have is your

FIRE

─〃

⟢

He was lounging, head on his paws and mostly ignoring the chatter though a flicker of a smile crossed his maw at Lichen's threat and Willow's following retort but he does not respond to either, he doesn't get the chance to do so. A shrill cry rises up in horror, he hears the lynx point's name yowled out in a guttural wail; a broken sound he at first doesn't realize is a cat until he lifts his dark head up and sees the earthen-hued and dark patched cat stumbling toward them. Smoke is on guard instantly, hackles raising until he notes the size; a young cat, can't even be much older than Duck or Goose are. There is no threat from this kit who knows Lichen through a name he is only faintly familiar with but it is enough evidence to the fact when he sees blue eyes flash in wide-eyed disbelief next to him.

They were eating her. His blood is ice water in his veins, a chill creeping along the ridge of his spine to bristle his dark fur into fine spikes. Were the cats of this area now so desperate to turn to such a horrific decision? He knew prey had been hard to find for some time, since the ships stopped coming in, since he and every other cat who once sailed upon said vessels were left abandoned here like twoleg trash. Smoke's jaw tightens, single orange eye widening as he glances slowly at the cats gathered, familiar faces and some not as familiar - but all cats he knows at least in passing. He wonders briefly if any of them had ever considered the idea even once and gives an involuntary shiver. It doesn't take long to parse the horror on the other faces around him and he leans down to secure his teeth in Cicada's scruff and pull him from the tangled limbs of the blue molly and against his side in the shadow of his own dark pelt, "Stay here." He didn't need his fiesty kitten getting underfoot during such a tense situation, didn't need the flash of teeth reminding the young newcomer of what desperation does to a cat. He wonders if they killed her to do so or if she died and was just conveniently there...

─ & the place you need to reach.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

& if I fall, I fall

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

• 

  Smoke

  
  — Future RiverClanner (Shipcat)
  — He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  — Solid black tom w/vitiligo and one orange eye.
  #ff7d46
  
  

 

[clay]

More figures crowd, and Clay can't be bothered to try and push any of them away. She's exhausted, all things considered, blood still drip-dripping off of her muzzle. Glazed eyes shifted from new face, to those who had stood here longer then three minutes, to someone who hauls the other kit away from her aunt, to her aunt. Eyes narrow briefly, more in confusion then in anger, then shift back towards those who speak to her- Brook first, though she does not introduce herself, then Willow, who does. "Willow. Cicada." She repeats.

What is your name? Ears twitch and perk. This once she knew, from the depths of her soul. Her mother had always been so proud of it, picking something so solid and unmoving, yet soft and moldable- "Clay." She speaks, the word like gum in her mouth. Just because she knew it, and her mother had picked it alone, doesn't meant it doesn't hurt to say. The ghosts of her memory, settled on her shoulders like a great and terrible weight. Eyes very briefly flicked towards Wave, a mumbled- "I don't know you-" leaving her mouth as she sidesteps a hint closer to Lichen. Eyes turn down now, pressing to her paws, studying that of the cuts and scrapes that well red along the sides of them.

It is tense here, and Clay wonders if that is her fault. She wonders if she had never come here, that these cats wouldn't be burdened, or on guard. She does not care to dwell on it long, she is too tired to care.

"speech"

 

[lichen]

lichen

There's a lot more faces than even Lichen enjoys, much less under the pretense of what trauma the newly identified Clay has endured... They're trying to help. Trying to be kind. But it's too much attention... too much noise. Her vision snaps towards Smoke as he scoops Cicada out of biting range, gaze lingering on him for just a moment with panicked uncertainty. They could house this girl... but what good would it do? They were hungry more often than not... and warmth could only do so much to ease an aching body. He is stalwart, sharing whatever disgust the masses have for the circumstances of her niece's arrival... but he doesn't object to Willow's offer either.. and that's all the reassurance she really needs.

Clay shuffles closer to her, clearly overwhelmed as more and more crowd around trying to introduce themselves and re-establish feline faces as friends rather than enemies- "Alright, enough," the lynx point barks, "Anyone with working paws go check she wasn't followed- please." It is a carefully intentional use of manners, not one that comes naturally... but she is reminded of Haze's chiding that gentler words makes for more willing servants. Ducking her head closer to the timid newcomer, she lets out a small breath, "This way, girl," before beckoning her to follow towards their humble shack of feathered nests. Trying to scrounge up some cobwebs for her paws wouldn't be too difficult up in the rafters hopefully...

"That sour looking tom right there is Smoke, you can trust him too. We've been..." her words hesitate, sifting through what would be easiest to digest, "We've been close friends for a long time. You'll be safe.... you're safe."