Camp cupid, you're so stupid // 06.01 meeting

This thread takes place inside the clan's camp.
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Freshkill
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shadowclan leader
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gonkpilled

ShadowClan stood on the precipice of being swallowed by it's own greed, it felt. At every turn did something appear, a change rearing forward, a discovery revealed. Clan life was not as lazy and repetitive as the Colony days had felt and Sablestar wondered if he should try to see it differently. To know there were other Clans about, one faithfully led by the comfort of kin. One that would not bare so much bleeding hate in the face of his warriors.

Cicadabuzz had made their choice with RiverClan. Unfortunate he could not have played the part of diplomacy sooner, and perhaps that was his fumble for not pursuing it with more urgency. In truth Sablestar preferred to stay in the cover of the pocosin. Let their enemies- should they name themselves as such- try to come to ShadowClan's border and see to it that they are either flattened by the roaring monsters that patrol the roaring path or get sucked into the muck and mire before ever seeing camp.

"ShadowClan, gather with me tonight." Sleep had not been shaken from the tuxedo's voice as he stood in front of the buttonbush guarding his den. "The forest grows smaller, it seems. I am eager for the alliance we've made with WindClan, the plains are home to kind folk. They're not like what we know from the Colony, I trust Dustystar will provide us aid should we call for it. I expect us to do the same for someone willing to call us a friend." There was a small pause as his gaze flickered between each face in front of him.

"There is still the matter of RiverClan, of course. They're quite a bit of distance away, that may just deter them from pursuing any retaliation even before they see the other perils they face should they act against us. I've hope the herbs secured will do us well, though, and benefits Cicadabuzz and Magpiepaw in the future." Burnt-honeyed eyes lock onto the wing-pelted cat for a moment longer before moving on.

"Onto more exciting news! We have apprentices to welcome; Cherryblaze's kits have reached their sixth moon." Sablestar looked to Hemlock-kit and Deathberrykit with an encouraging nod of his head for them to step forward. "Before we continue- Deathberrykit has spent quite a bit of her time as a kit already fighting as bravely as a warrior might. Her will, that perseverance, it shines like the full moon and deserves to be honored for it. Hemlock-kit, Deathberrykit, from this day on you'll be known as Hemlockpaw and Cloudberrypaw. As apprentices, you will train under the watch of your mentors and learn all you can from them. Hemlockpaw, your mentor will be Hollowmist- and Cloudberrypaw, your mentor will be Wolfpack." His deputy had implored to be capable of handling himself in wrangling up the youth of ShadowClan, and with Cloudberrypaw's shaky start in being so sick it is with hope the mottled tom could push some strength into her.

"Manchineelkit, you've also reached your sixth moon. From this day on you will be known as Manchineelpaw, and your mentor will be Tinysnail. May her wisdom guide you to your warrior name." His gaze shifted from the young graduate to Hushpaw next. "And Hushpaw, with Stonestep's sudden retirement for the elder's den, you will be reassigned to Marbleshine to continue your training."

Sablestar tipped his head with pride, giving pause as his warriors and their apprentices chanted the names of their new ranks. Once the air grew quiet, a long, tired sigh pressed through his maw as he drew on. So much to say, but he hated keeping the Clans attention at a stand-still for so long. "I will put the rumors to rest for you all here- Possumgrin has been returned to the rank of a warrior and is no longer one of my Night Guards. Alongside him, Smogmaw has also approached me with request he return to his former rank as well, many thanks to his time." He does not bother to say much else on Possumgrin, already living his shame day in and day out.

"This does, however, leave the council rather slim. To be a Night Guard is no easy task, but it is an honor, being on your Clan's council and I have been paying close attention to you all... Your loyalty will be rewarded." Sablestar's scarred gaze swept over them all before lightening into something softer as a smile curved across his lips. "That is all for this evening. Rest well, greenleaf brings with it long days of work ahead."

 
I'LL SHOW NO MERCY, I'LL SHOW NO REMORSE.
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Coalstrike stepped forward as Sablestar called a meeting, his bright amber eyes locked on the leader. His ears twitched, listening closely. WindClan... He scoffed softly, tail flicking behind him. So, they were calling each other friends now? That didn't mean much in the long run. But if it meant ShadowClan didn't have to worry about WindClan for now, fine. He'd accept that. Still, Dustystar? Really? Why not just Duststar? He shook his head. Not important.

As for RiverClan... Fish-breathing wretches...

When Deathberrykit, Hemlock-kit, and Manchineelkit were named, he gave a few firm nods. Hushpaw getting a new mentor was fine too... Until he heard who it was. His ears twitched and his lip curled slightly. Marbleshine. Of all cats. What a waste of a mentor. He didn't say anything though. Just kept his expression still, forcing himself to nod along when needed. No use starting something during a Clan meeting. And one of the kits received another name, Cloudberrypaw, instead. Hm... Deathberrypaw would have sounded just fine to him too, but alas.

Then came the part he'd been waiting for, Possumgrin's demotion. A faint, satisfied smile tugged at his mouth. It was the right call. The cat had been lazy, ignoring his Night Guard duties. How long did he think he could get away with it? Worst of all, he'd held back an apprentice who had real potential. Coalstrike glanced to Fleapaw briefly. He could only hope Jadethorn would be a stronger mentor, someone who could actually help shape her into the warrior ShadowClan needed.

As the meeting ended, Coalstrike dipped his head with quiet respect, the flicker of a smirk still ghosting at the corner of his mouth.


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I'll watch the battle until the dust is clear.
 

CICADABUZZ, 30 moons / shc + med. cat
a SH cinnamon tabby/chocolate tortie chimera w/ black eyes
parent to cloudberrypaw, hemlockpaw, mistletoepaw ; mentor to magpiepaw
a reserved, pragmatic healer driven by duty rather than sentiment
Cicadabuzz does not move when the name leaves Sablestar's mouth.

Cloudberrypaw.

The syllables hang in the air, sickly sweet. A veil draped over something meant to remain sharp-edged. They don't join in the chorus. Their head tilts a fraction, eyes trained not on the newly named apprentice but on Sablestar himself—cool, unreadable, and unwavering. They blink slowly. Once. What has been taken cannot be returned, and yet here he is, renaming a ghost. Deathberrykit was never just a name. It was a memory, a warning. The bitter taste of yew—poisonous, beautiful. The echo of Serpentberry's teeth and lies. The weakness in a kit's lungs that nearly stopped her breathing before she ever truly lived. That name was weight, yes—but weight she bore, and survived. To strip it from her now, to give her something soft—cloud, of all things—is not a kindness. It is a lie. A rewriting.

Their claws do not unsheathe, but they consider it. Cicadabuzz sits, still as lichen, tail flicking just once as warriors cheer for names they do not understand. They wonder if Sablestar asked; or whether it was the kit that approached him, that chose to spite that which they had given her. If she even knows what's been lost. Perhaps to her, and to Sablestar, this is nothing—just another night, another apprentice made. But for Cicadabuzz, it is the severing of a thread. A name meant to hold history now polished smooth, made palatable. Their gaze stays on him long after the moment has passed. He speaks of diplomacy, of alliances, of loyalty rewarded. But what of remembrance? What of meaning?

Cicadabuzz says nothing. But they will not forget this.

 
-

Fleapaw sat stiffly at the edge of the gathered crowd, tail lashing in short, aggravated flicks. Her ears angled back, eyes narrowed into sharp amber slits that bored into the skulls that disrupted her view.

She was still pissed about all that RiverClan shit. She didn't care that it hadn't ended well. That wasn't the point. Fleapaw knew why she hadn't been picked to go, and stealing herbs wasn't exactly her idea of fun anyway. But Stoatpaw?! They took Stoatpaw! Who the hell thought that was a good idea? Ever since they got back, her friend had been in a weird funk, and it wasn't hard to guess why.

Fleapaw didn't know whether she was more pissed that she didn't get to go, or that some assholes had had threatened her friend. Either one made her head feel like it was gonna explode.

Then to top it, Jadethorn went without her and did some crazy risky shit. She was fed up enough with Possumgrin running off and leaving her behind…

Just didn't seem fair—but when was it ever?

She swallowed the bitterness in her throat long enough to cheer for the new apprentices. "Hemlockpaw, Cloudberrypaw, Manchineelpaw!" They deserved a time to shine, even if she rolled her eyes at Marbleshine getting saddled with one. She supposed Marbleshine was diligent, but she was also a spineless softie. Hushpaw deserved better than Possumgrin's no-backboned sister. Flea could only imagine how he felt about it.

When Possumgrin's name came up, she stiffened. The tension rippled across her shoulders as she angled her head to find him. Her jaw clenched, a mess of emotions buzzing just under her skin. Every time she started to feel bad for the bastard, she remembered all the reasons he didn't deserve it.

After everything he put her through—how hard she had to fight to make up for where he failed, just to be told it was her fault—Fleapaw hoped he was squirming in that spotlight. Possumgrin should be happy. He got his wish. Now, the no-good weakling of an apprentice he was so burdened to have wouldn't drag him down at all.

When the meeting ended, she rose with a huff, a scowl carved deep into her face. Without a word, she shoved through the crowd and slipped out into the marsh.

I'm so insecure, I think
FLEAPAW
9 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson
Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.


That I'll die before I drink
 
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