Border HOLINESS BRINGS YOU ❆ SAMUEL

[DIRGEFROST]

x

Frost and fresh snowfall part under paw as Dirgefrost crosses through the moorland. Maw twisting into a frown out of discomfort as the slickness of melted ice dampens his pawpads. They could have easily slipped through the tunnels, at least while still a little slippery it wasn't exactly nearly as ice ridden like this. They were after a bird though, Sanctity seems to bring them in occasionally for that kit of hers- of his technically? It was easier for them to not actually think about it like that. Either way, from what he could gather she seemed to like that. Maybe Tummypetal would enjoy it? It could make a nice thank you for taking care of his kit and he supposed new kit too.

Birds didn't really like tunnels though, frustratingly he's chased one towards the border lines. Without a second thought he brushes against the invisible scent lines of their border, snapping the bird between sharp fangs with a powerful leap. Skidding the scarce snow across the ground as he finds solid earth again, chest heaving as warm blood pools from the puncture marks, dripping down and staining an ivory chin. He only notices the grunt of frustration from another body when the adrenaline in their ears subside.

The first thing he notices is a downy pelt, almost wooly? Compared to the rest of him, that was barren, wasn't he cold? Furrowing his brows they set the bird between paws "hey stranger" they warble with a stoic confidence. Always the paragon example of 'do what I say, not what I do' Dirgefrost once again finds himself committing a sin they wouldn't encourage his child(ren) to follow. "You lost?" Breath pools into the air and with a lazy flick of their eyes he glances up to see it dissipate as it rises.

OOC // @SAMUEL

∗ ⸼ ❆ ⸼ ∗

DIRGEFROST

TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN
he / they, male
45 moons old, ages on the 1st.
npc x npc, littermate to ashbird

SPEECH // THOUGHTS // INTERACTION

penned by ouijeejuice

 

[SAMUELSAMUEL's icon]

x

The cold is unkind to him as is Mother Nature but Samuel is forgiving and he would try his best in adapting, he always did wherever his paws would carry him, and despite the earlier scuffle that he had gotten into along with a few lacerations on his body. He wobbles as if he were born anew with fawn-like limbs that threatened to stumble underneath his weight, his tongue sticking out from his maw, and allowing it to swipe across his lips to taste the metallic tang that remained. Something about the snow falling feels almost poetic as it cleans some of the stains from his wool-like cloak that only keeps a part of him warm, his nose clogged up with the smell of asphalt and blood, and he allows himself to move further off the road with claws clicking carefully against the ground.

The flutter of wings in the distance is interrupted by hungry jaws and soon the silence is put aside as someone dares speak to rot. The peculiar feline turns rots head in the direction of Dirgefrost taking in the sight of them and for a heartbeat, rots mind stutters. They call rot a stranger and they're not wrong, no, but why must they be strangers when rot is such a forgiving creature? With a tilt of rots head, Samuel presents rotself as meek, demure, and softspoken "Likewise fellow stranger. How queer... I did not expect to see another wayward soul out here." Rot bleats innocently only to take a few steps forward so that rot didn't linger upon the river of asphalt, rots eyes search Dirgefrost's facial features for a good heartbeat, and speaks once more "Lost?" Rot echoes suddenly as if only having realized that rot has strayed beyond the outskirts of the twolegplace.

Samuel supposes that in some sense that it is in fact lost and far from the place that its most acquainted with, its whiskers quiver as if truly contemplating the question, and it parts its jaws to continue to be sincere and true of heart "I suppose I am lost... Although, in a sense, aren't we all lost and trying to seek a place of belonging, yes?" Ah, yes, yes, of course. They remain strangers... Its smile falters and the odd feline gives a lash of its bottlebrush tail deciding that it didn't wish to be strangers with this cat for much longer. "I am Samuel. I come from afar... And I fear that I am too far to travel back. I am scathed, unfortunate truly! As you see, I have a special condition." With a naked paw, it motions to the part of itself that isn't covered by fur, and it would risk dying from the cold if this... unsuspecting fool stranger didn't help it!

"I humbly request for sanctuary." A tilt of his crown to show just how humble he truly is and the lykoi peers up at his newfound companion, he tries not to allow his teeth to chatter too much around Dirgefrost but it proves to be difficult. He's cold, terribly so, and he can feel a pit in his belly as he finds himself to grow rather envious of the plush coat that the other wears and a part of him wishes to leech warmth from the other. "Fret not, I can be of use. I am capable of hunting, a skilled mouser where I hail from, and I will not just be another mouth to feed." A reassurance to the moor-runner lest they began to doubt him and tried to send him away, "And you? What's your name, my friend?"

He must show that he isn't some lost lamb seeking for a shepherd... yes, he must prove himself capable if he wanted to survive the harsh cold...

BUT A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING IS MORE THAN A WARNING

SAMUEL

❝TRAVELING PROPHET❞
TRANS MASCx HE/IT/ROT​

x

"speech", thoughts, attacking
A lithe feline with a thick ivory coat that drapes over them like a cloak and its limbs, chest, and face are exposed for the cold to nip at. A wolfish tail that brushes against his limbs and drags behind him oftentimes, his fur as pale as sheep's wool, and its step careful as a lamb. He has a pair of two-toned eyes, one blue as the morning sky and the other fiery as the sun, and a pair of folded ears.
Has no known relatives.

And all my devotion turns violent... ...

 

[DIRGEFROST]

x

He can't help but stare with curiosity at the stranger as rot speaks, it's words are soft spoken and he strains his ears to hear it better. It paints a picture of enraptured attention from the jump, in reality he's trying to figure out if he may know Sanctity. It's most likely just a coincidence but having listened to two strange speaking loners in such a short span from one another had him seek for connections that weren't there. "Oh, I'm not wayward" he felt the need to clarify with a muffled clearing of his throat. How he managed to keep finding cats around here when he was the least suited to talk to them they don't really know, at least nothing too strange about this one is apparent. Nothing harmfully strange, he corrects himself with a furrowing of his brows.

"Right" he drawls with a flicker of their gaze, examining the parts of his fur that were sparse. At least it wasn't his eyes playing tricks on him it seems. Maybe it's the bleeding heart within him but he feels the inclination to offer assistance. Not without spending a beat too long thinking about it, WindClan could use the help, couldn't they? Whiskers trembling he parts his jaw to speak, hot breath forming into small puffs of clouds in the bitter air. "Nice to meet you, Samuel. I'm Dirgefrost, from WindClan" with an amused half grin he notices how close the stranger seems to be to him right now. "The group that monitors this stretch of land for intruders" the clarification is followed with a roll of his paw to gesture for the traveler to step back a little bit.

"We could provide, er, 'sancturary' if you can provide work" though he had bragged about being a capable mouser, they would hope that rot wasn't entirely hopeless. Given the assumption rotself must have to fight for survival more than others due to that condition of rots. "You'll have to wait here though, we like to run newbies past our leader for clearance first." Glancing behind him he hopes to see a golden pelt, though it seems that Goldenroar wasn't around currently nor any patrol. Huffing in disappointment it seems that he would have to play the role of baby sitter again so this Samuel doesn't suddenly become inspired to break any of their rules.

OOC //

∗ ⸼ ❆ ⸼ ∗

DIRGEFROST

TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN
he / they, male
45 moons old, ages on the 1st.
npc x npc, littermate to ashbird

SPEECH // THOUGHTS // INTERACTION

penned by ouijeejuice