SkyClan Journey CHANNEL CHASERS ʚɞ television

[SWALLOWPAW]

skyclan currently lived in a castle of boxes; about fifty cats or so, all cramped between brown cobblestone walls. their stay won't be long, but there's enough time to explore the place their daylighters call home.

swallowpaw walks cautiously, afraid that she may disturb whatever lurks in the boxes. or, her clanmates. she creeps around the corners of the house, and baps at anything that dangles off the edge of a counter. it's spacious, warm, but the girl doesn't get why a cat would choose to live here part of the time. there's a claustrophobic feeling that churns in her belly the longer she sits in one place, and her gaze always lingers back towards the windows. freedom, she thinks, the urge to run the rest of the way.

eventually she finds herself in a room the twolegs would call 'living room'. a wide, tall moss bed sits in the center, perched atop a fuzzy, multicolored rug. swallowpaw wanders over, climbing the obstacle with dexterity only a skyclanner would posses. she looks around, interest immediately taken by a tiny, red dot sitting tentatively on one of the pillows. the girl's mind, body and life runs with the blood of a feral cat, though that is not enough to stop kitty paws from pressing it.

the large box a few fox lengths from her flickers on. colorful blobs begin to move on the screen, muffled voices of twolegs and music flutter in her ears. a swallowed-down squeal pushes itself from her throat, fur puffing out from the unexpected noise. her head turns to look the moving pictures, attention very quickly honing in on this mysterious contraption. she stares.

ʚɞ

 

[TIGGER]

Never before had Tigger had so many visitors at once, especially since his house-friend wasn't much of a social creature. They had each other and that was about it. It wasn't exactly a lonely life, but surrounded by all these new people, Tigger could imagine why not having very many friends over would be more of a comfort than being the life of the party. For himself, though, he kind of enjoyed seeing all the personalities that came from his collected strangers (even if there were a lot more than he had originally thought)

"- food is in the pantry, just rip open the bag and help yourselves!" he was calling out to the "clan cats" from atop his perch on the windowsill, dictating where each of his available amenities were as they chattered and slunk around the boxes and half-packed luggage. He was more than happy to share the diet food that his house-friend had gotten him (it was yuckier than the last bag, not nearly as flavorful or nice to chew on); he imagined it wouldn't be the greatest meal in the world but... these "clan cats" (what was that? a clan?) seemed more skeleton than cat. Even diet food would be better than starving, right?

He busied himself with the hard task of getting one of the cabinets open as the others explored, slipping his paw in and up to catch the lock that his house-friend thought would keep him out of the treat cabinet. Silly friend. He was chunky (and happily so, he thought, cutting a glance at one particularly scrawny woman with a missing eye) but certainly not slow: Tigger was no stranger to busting locks and taking treats if he wanted.

Satisfied with his sneaky, sneaky accomplishment, the fat tabby cat beamed as he knocked a box full of liquid treats on to the floor for his guests to investigate. "These are my favorites! I've got chicken and beef and fish, just take your pick!" he meowed happily, "let me know if guys prefer-"

Tigger let out a little squeak as the tee-vee blared to life, the little people on the screen moving and mewling to each other. Ugh, the soaps, he imagined his house-friend growling (he was very proud of himself for being able to recognize "the soaps", obviously another housefolk his did not like very much. ) The cat who had tapped the tee-vee controller did not seem to like them very much either.

"Don't worry, Tigger said kindly as he jumped from kitchen counter to couch and then down next to the younger cat, "my house-friend doesn't like this one either. She is very bad at not letting people get hurt. Their nest is like a big cutter's nest and she lets other house-folk bleed a lot. Also, she tolerates dogs. Absolutely despicable actions, if you ask me. Here-" he stepped on the controller a few times, mashing his paw against the buttons until something happened and The Soaps and her odd nest were gone and another house-folk took her place, one astride a big horse with funny stuff in its mouth.

"This one is better! My house-friend likes this one, we watch this before bed when she's home. Is this more your speed?"

 

[SWALLOWPAW]

swallowpaw crouched on the squishy cushion, eyeballing the television like it was a squirrel. a curious growl rumbles in her throat, only ebbing away when tigger's voice approaches. wide, blue eyes blink up at him. she didn't know what 'the soaps' was, yet those colorful blobs on the screen were interesting but still weird. it captivated her bored mind, though, most of her life has been staring at dull grey walls of a gorge. you really take what you're given in downtime.

"sorry." she says, unsure of what she's apologizing for. their host's been running around since they arrived, leading the clan to his favorite spots to relax and snacks to munch on (is this the life of a kittypet? how… um). swallowpaw awkwardly straightens her posture, tail curling itself neatly around her paws.

she tries to make sense of what the heck tigger is talking about. she can decipher house-friend as a nicer term for twoleg, but everything else is… not it. blue eyes flick back to the screen, watching the new colorful pictures for a few seconds in silence, then back at the rotund tabby. "i'm um, sorry your house-friend enjoys dogs? is… is she gonna sic one on us if she finds us?" surely, no twoleg has ever witnessed this many cats in one den together.

"though, but this is nicer. peaceful? i-i want to say. do you two watch this a lot?"

ʚɞ

 

[SPIKEPAW]

Wherever the medicine cat trainee was, it was likely that Spikepaw wasn't far behind. Not that he was some stalker weirdo or anything—the she-cat was worthy of respect and space! But the way she perched atop the couch, eyes bright and focused onto the beaming box with curiosity... Spikepaw felt himself swoon. She was just a friend, he reassured himself and others, even if his heart denied it. What was the harm in seeing what she was up to, anyway?

Then, SkyClan's gracious host showed up and interrupted what was supposed to be his chance to talk with Swallowpaw alone. He deflates slightly before continuing to make his way over and interject into the conversation that they were having. Spikepaw was glad to boast, making claims left and right like it was nothing, "Dogs? Nothin' to worry about. They're dumb and have tiny brains." Would anyone tell him otherwise? They kissed up to their masters and couldn't live without them, probably. There was a reason why there were wild cats and not wild dogs — cats could live without the help of humans. Wolves were totally different, just as lions and tigers were to cats — large and scary predators, practically mythical in status. Dogs were scary but would back down in an instant if a human told them to.

The black tabby smirks, cooking up another fib before meowing, "My twolegs had a dog, and I knew how to give it orders." A lie. His twolegs' kin had a dog, more like, and its bark was so loud that little Spikekit peed the bed in fright. Never in a million years would he admit that to his clanmates and especially not Swallowpaw.

Green eyes turn toward the pictures moving on the box now, observing for a moment before wondering aloud, "I've always wondered why twolegs like watching the box. They just sit there all day and watch other twolegs do stuff." Spikepaw didn't necessarily know what the twolegs in the box were doing or saying, but all he knew was that his mother's housefolk sat and stared far too often.

𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 ✹ . + ˚ · 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖

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  — spikepaw / 11 moons / he/him pronouns
  — apprentice of skyclan
  — sh black tabby w/ low white and green eyes, small scar across right brow
  — click for tags

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[Cherrydawn]

CHERRY OF SKYCLAN

" Maybe they just had nothing better to do than watch the box? " Cherry mused softly as she padded over to Spikepaw and Swallowpaw. Her whiskers twitched with curiosity as she offered a friendly blink to the cat who had welcomed them so kindly.

" I'm Cherry, by the way. " she introduced herself, her tone warm but a bit hesitant. " It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for granting us refuge in your home. T-that was very kind... " she stammered slightly, her gaze dropping momentarily before darting backward to the gathered cats that were now inside and out of the storm.

Her thoughts wandered briefly to Lostmoon, aware of how close she was to kitting. The notion stirred a flicker of worry in her chest, but she quickly shook it off, focusing instead on the box that had captured their attention. She tilted her head, her dual-coloured eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

She hadn't caught any trace of dog scent, and everything here was boxed up. Why, though? Boxes had always been a source of fun when she was younger, perfect for hiding during playful tussles with her sister, Cotton Candy. But beyond that, their purpose eluded her.

" Not all dogs have tiny brains, though. " Cherry meowed, breaking the silence as her eyes widened slightly. " I saw one once helping its two-leg with everything! It was just like Snowveil, couldn't see. The dog guided them around, kept them safe... It was amazing to watch. " Her voice carried a hint of awe, her tail curling neatly around her paws as she glanced between her companions. Despite the tension in the air, she seemed determined to lighten the mood with her gentle musings.

THROUGH DIRT AND SHADOW I GROW ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I'm reaching light through the struggle