Open Territory ShadowClan what am I but my fathers bastard daughter 彡 joining

[GRAVELTHROAT GRAVELTHROAT]

Take you to the grave, I'll ghost

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Gravel shuffled forward, her steps sluggish, tail dragging behind her like a corpse clawing free from the grave. A thorned branch clipped her shoulder, but she barely blinked. A twitch was all it would get from her.

She stopped a respectable distance from the scented line. Her ruined eye stared ahead like a porch light long since gone dark. The other, pale and intense, flicked about the shadows. The mire beyond stank of wet fur and decomposition, not a tasteful combo, but she wasn't there for comfort.

Her shoulders rolled, haunches sinking into the sopping ground. Soon after, a cough caught in her throat, sharp and gravelly. She stifled it with a clenched jaw until the itch died somewhere deep in her chest.

Mother had spoken of their father with loathing. Bitter to her final, rattling breath. He was a shadow in the doorway, a ghost in the wind. All she'd ever known was that he was dark-furred and, as her mother delicately put it a 'fox-hearted bastard'.

She didn't know what to expect. Would he accept what she had to say? Would he even believe her?

Truth be told, she could've located him sooner, but she struggled to even find a point in doing so. From what she was told, it seemed he held little interest in staying to raise them. Gravel didn't share her mother's bitterness, and she couldn't have cared less to know his reasons.

Stranger he may be, Charcoal was still her father, and with her mother buried and siblings gone, she had little else.

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I know I can be so cold

 

[cicadabuzz]

CICADABUZZ, 31 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 picks their way across the muddied slope with the easy care of one who knows the land beneath their paws like breath. The herbs tucked into their tail sway gently with each step, a rustle just light enough to be mistaken for wind in the reeds. But it is not wind they've scented. It's something acrid, out of place. Something foreign. They pause. There—just past the old pine snag, where the damp rot of moss fails to hide the scent of blood gone stale and skin left too long to the sun. Cicadabuzz steps forward, slowly, deliberately. Their gaze catches the dark shape slouched in the muck. A stranger. One eye milky and one too sharp. Not one of theirs. Not ShadowClan.

The silence between them hangs—wet and dripping. Cicadabuzz does not announce themselves. There is no need. This isn't a border patrol and Gravel is no threat. Not in the state she's in. They look at her, long and quiet. She reeks of something else. Not just travel and cold rain and weariness. Something unresolved. Her posture speaks it. Their ears flick, once. Waiting for someone, perhaps? Not them, clearly. They do not know her. Still, Cicadabuzz doesn't leave. They simply stand a few fox-lengths away, their expression unreadable, and consider. A moment passes. Then another.

Their voice, when it finally comes, is low and edged with tired patience. "Is there something you've come for, or are you lingering at ShadowClan's border for fun?" they ask. It is not unkind. But it is not welcoming, either. Their head tilts slightly—not curious, but assessing.

 

[GRAVELTHROAT GRAVELTHROAT]

Take you to the grave, I'll ghost

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How long Gravel sits beyond the threshold, she does not know. Her gaze stays fixed, roving across the wet and the dim, patiently waiting. A sound stirs—faint, like a branch rattling loose in the wind. She almost dismisses it until something steps out of the dark.

An odd creature emerges, all hollow black eyes, reeking of bitter things. They are unsettling, but no more out of place than the stench which permeates the air around them.

She does not rise—does not move to greet them. Gravel remains seated, paws tucked tight beneath her frame, stocky shoulders jutting beneath her shaggy pelt. Her gaze meets theirs.

They are not who she's looking for, that much is obvious. Their pelt is not dark, and they look hardly any older than she. Besides, theres is not even the slightest lick of resemblance. Just another face between her and whatever truth may come next.

It's the stranger who finally breaks the long silence. They are not particularly harsh, but their tone is enough to tell her that they would rather not be wasting their time. That is fine, the feeling is mutual.

"Not fun, no." She rasps, voice dry and brittle as tinder. "I don't wish to be an eyesore on your borders longer than I must."

The crackle in her throat grates even against her ears. It's been some time since she's heard it aloud. Gravel has never liked the sound of her voice to begin with, but the fire somehow made it worse. Neither is it very comfortable to feel that rattling in her throat. All the more reason to get to the point.

"Looking for my father." Gravel looks to them, hoping that the name she shares will have the familiarity that she hopes. "—Charcoal."

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I know I can be so cold

 

[Sealpaw Sealpaw]

You Say That You Are Close

Is Close The Closest Star?

x

Sealpaw trails behind Cicadabuzz, a small bundle of some kind of bitter tasting herb she doesn't know the name of hanging loosely from her teeth. She does not want to taste it more than she has to, but unlike the medicine cat she does not have the luxury of stuffing the precious leaves into the fur of a tail to keep her mouth free. A tiny part of her regrets offering- insisting, really- to help because the apprentice was sure she was going to taste nothing but whatever these leaves were for the next moon. On the other paw the heist had... not gone well apparently and Sealpaw only wanted to try and help restock the herbs that had been used to treat the injured...

With her mouth full of herbs and flooding her senses she doesn't realize they have company until the medicine cat slows to a stop and she curiously pushes her way out of the greenery to stand beside them to see what had caught their interest so intensely. A stranger. Instinctively she tenses for a moment, was this a Riverclan warrior? Thunderclan?

....No. No that wasn't it. If she was part of either clan she would have far more aggression in her posture towards them. What was she here for then? Cicadabuzz questions the stranger and Sealpaw hesistantly places the herb bundle at her paws, blue eyes watching intrigued but guarded all the same.

When the stranger speaks she nearly cringes. What had happened to her voice?She'd never heard a voice sound eo painful before. "This is Shadowclan's territory," The tabby mews, a hint of concern simmering just beneath the curtness as she reiterates what Cicadabuzz had already said. "You should leave before a patrol comes and chases you off."

It probably wouldn't even be that hard to chase her off herself if it was needed. The molly looked like she'd been through hell. Sealpaw looks to Cicada, a question (should I chase her off?) on the tip of her tongue before the stranger speaks again and her gaze snaps back to her in surprise.

Charcoal... The cat in question had not been called that for several moons now, but if she squints... She supposes she can see the resemblance.

She leans closer to the medicine cat, voice low. "Do you think she means Coalstrike..? Should I go get him..?"

You Just Feel Twice As Far

SEALPAW

— Shadowclan Apprentice
— She/They
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— Grey Rosetted Tabby With Blue Eyes And A Bobbed Tail.
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