TW: Sensitive Content Open Border SOMEWHERE I BELONG ––––★ intro / joiner

[CROWPAW.'s icon CROWPAW. CROWPAW.]

{$title} TW for mentions of gore + death

CROWPAW ──

shadowclan | apprentice​

Walking briskly across the hardened earth, Crow follows the vague scent of pine needles and tree sap. Their tiny body moves past the tree line like a shadow, silent save for the occasional rumble of their empty stomach. Watchful, wild eyes glance to and fro, constantly checking behind their shoulder, and their fur is pointing every which way, having had no time to clean even the steadily-drying blood that stains it. The first humble rays of sun appear as dawn colors the sky a shade of pinkish blue, weaving between the trees as the stars disappear from the sky. Finally, they have reached the forest; finally, they can rest.

Finding a thicket to conceal him, Crow rushes underneath it, tiny limbs pushing past leaves and twigs. His tail lashes back and forth from the panicked adrenaline as he stares back the way he came. He hasn't heard anything in a while now, but that hasn't stopped his heart from pounding in his fear-filled chest at all. His 'ma said it'd be safe here... was he... the only one who made it?
He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the pit in his stomach that's weighing him down, but it's no use. What's the point in hoping, anyway? He saw it. He saw the way that those fanged beasts had taken her and several of his siblings away. New tears spring to his silvery eyes as the sound of ripping flesh echoes in his ears, spilling down his face next to already dried streaks of flattened fur.

In-between sniffles and hiccups of grief, Crow suddenly smells the approach of other cats, cutting through the stench of death and dirt that clings to her pelt. Her eyes snap in the direction it's coming from, and for a split second, her eyes meet those of another feline. She snaps her head back behind the cover of the thicket.
No, no, no- she'd been so focused on keeping away from those canine killers that she couldn't even notice anything else around her... she hisses as the smell of cats gets closer, one shining, tear-filled eye glaring out through the cover of leaves. Her clumped fur raises as best it can, making her small body look slightly bigger, though it's hardly anywhere near enough to look intimidating to a full-grown cat. Claws dig into the dirt beneath her, anchoring her trembling bones...

blow a kiss at the methane skies

see the rust through your playground eyes

• ooc: here they are finally, feel free to be the cat that saw them!! interrogate them, try to comfort them, anything is fine!!
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN

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Wolfpack wasn't sure he'd ever get to a point where finding some abandoned scrap of fur on their territory tugged at his heartstrings, but at least that initial impulse to run them off with an unfriendly swipe of his claws was short lived now, if not altogether gone. Conditioning at it's finest, he supposed. Sablestar had long-ago made it clear what the protocal was with abandoned or lost youth on their territory, and unfortunately, the outcome here wouldn't fully be Wolfpacks decision.

Not with an entire patrol here with him, at least.

"Wait." he called, halting the patrol. "Looks like we've got a stowaway."

Mismatched eyes narrowed on the bloody, teary eyed kid, but he didn't move to drag them out or offer soothing words. Not allowed to send them on their way, but lacking the gentle nature to reassure them in what was obviously a very rough time. "Are you being chased?" he asked instead, ears swivelling outward to scan for signs of something else beyond the dense shrubbery blocking his view. If something had been led into the pocasin, he didn't want his patrol out there blind to the threat.

---

​

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : —​
• shadowclan deputy - male - a large, black & blue chimera with moderate white splashing, mismatched eyes, and several scars.

 

[CROWPAW.'s icon CROWPAW. CROWPAW.]

CROWPAW ──

shadowclan | apprentice​

With her tail tucked between her legs, Crow forces her shaking paws to step carefully out of the thicket. Her cowering form makes her look smaller than she already is, a mere ball of fluff kneeling before this towering monster of a cat that speaks to her now. Are you being chased? he asks, seemingly searching for the danger that'd driven Crow to hide here; swallowing thickly, she parts her lips as her dried and scratchy throat produces a frail voice that's still laced with fear. She repeats what her 'ma had called those creatures that'd killed her - "Coyotes," she rasps. "M-my 'ma... they t-took her. She said the - hic - forest would be... safe."

Now they've begun to doubt what their 'ma had said about the forest, though. If they were safe here, why did they feel like they'd end up a scrap of prey to this giant cat? Maybe they would have been better off being dragged away by the coyotes... no, they shouldn't think that. It'd been their 'ma's final wish for them to survive. Wide, unblinking eyes stare up at Wolfpack with a clear look of wariness, the occasional tear still spilling from them. As the adrenaline fades from their body, their joints ache from running, and even as small and slippery as they are, they're not certain they could outrun this cat if he decides to attack, especially in his own territory that he's obviously more familiar with than Crow is.

blow a kiss at the methane skies

see the rust through your playground eyes

• ooc:
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[MIREPURR]

Mirepurr stops the moment Wolfpack utters the order, nearly causing the cat behind them to collide with their suddenly still form.

"A stowaway?"

they echo the deputy's words, unsure if they ought to be grateful that it is not as dangerous of a situation as they had assumed, or be apprehensive about yet another stranger on their territory. Mirepurr doesn't have a personal issue with the newcomers, truly, but it does make them uneasy. Just how many more cats are going to wander into their marsh, fleeing their past? The world is truly grim. These events only make them more grateful for the colony in which they had been born in, even if it had flaws on its own, too.

They spot the ebony-black head of feline before it can pop back into cover. Mirepurr gasps, stepping out from behind Wolfpack's shadow as curiosity and concern drags them forward. The lost and the weary—those are the ones that keep stumbling into ShadowClan and seeking refugee. This cat seems to be one of them.

"Coyotes?"

Horror draws upon them. Should the patrol spread out and look for signs, ensure that the she-cat had not been followed this far? No, that would be dangerous... if it's a pack, Mirepurr's Clanmates could get picked off one by one. They ought to check and bring back safety to their home, but... Mirepurr is too focused on the stranger, now that she's in proper view.

In sharp contrast to Wolfpack's matter-of-fact inquiry, Mirepurr offers sympathy.

"You are hurt."

They say it, though it sounds more like a question. It's difficult to tell if the blood that stains black pelt comes from her or not. Regardless of physical well-being or lack thereof, she is obviously terrified, and no doubt in shock over the apparent loss of her mother. What terrible fate.

"Your mother..."

Mirepurr begins.

"She was right. You are safe here- with us, at least."

A questioning look is sent Wolfpack's way. They do not wish to overstep, but surely, he would not send this cat away; possibly back into the jaws of her mother's killers.

 

[CROWPAW.'s icon CROWPAW. CROWPAW.]

CROWPAW ──

shadowclan | apprentice​

Crow's widened gaze moves to Mirepurr. You are hurt, comes the voice of concern; looking down at themself briefly, Crow finally takes notice to the sting of small scratches along their flank and the dried, cracked skin of their paw pads. Though most of the blood on their fur had been spattered from their 'ma's sacrificial protection of her kits, some had been drawn from the tug of their flesh upon pushing through thorned shrubbery with little regard to watching where they'd stepped. "Just some s-scratches," they mutter, taking a deep, shaky breath as their heartbeat begins to slow, not yet a normal pace but feeling less like it's about to burst out of their chest.

Mirepurr's reassurance that Crow is safe seems to help, and his fur begins to smooth as he subconsciously shifts closer toward them. His wary crouch shifts into a slightly more comfortable resting position, resisting the urge to let his eyelids droop from the exhaustion that sweeps over him.

blow a kiss at the methane skies

see the rust through your playground eyes

• ooc:
• "speaking" | thinking | action

 

[Tickfrost Tickfrost]

When you're lost in the universe, lost in the universe, don't lose faith
My mother says, "Your whole life's in the paws of the Stars"

.

Tickfrost remained a steady presence, orange eyes quietly taking in the scene before him. He spoke little at first, letting the stranger and Wolfpack do the talking. Something was clearly wrong. The other cat's eyes… they were haunted, the way Tickfrost remembered feeling when he glimpsed his own reflection in still water: lost, empty. A time that seemed like a lifetime ago but still licked at his very dreams, still haunted his very pawsteps... Gone, but never truly gone... Always a pawstep behind him. Memories... A past... What did this child go through to look so haunted?

And then came the word...

Coyotes. The thought made a shiver run through him. He had faced them before… and run from them too. Another had fallen victim to the predators. A pang of sadness pressed against his chest. He remembered Fleafire's standoff against one of those mangly fuckers... She survived... Some weren't that lucky. Torn ear twitching once, he scoffed as the kit spoke about his mother telling him the forest was safe.

" Your ma was kind… but naive. " he said finally, voice low, almost flat. He understood the need to reassure a kit, but the forest held dangers even the kindest hearts couldn't always protect against. " I am sorry for your loss... " He cleared his throat, glancing toward Mirepurr, who had always been gentler in these situations. Somehow, being near his mentor had made him softer too. " You are safer in a group… not alone... " he murmured, his gaze flicking to Wolfpack. The patrol leader carried responsibility now. If it were up to Mirepurr or him the kit would come along. Better to keep them alive than risk the forest's cruelty. Strength was in numbers, and in his mind, the more paws, the stronger the protection.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

14 MOONS

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