Open Territory You've got to run far from all you've ever known // Intro

[PythonCleo]

{$title} Introducing my terrible lady, who would like to join the clan

Cleo wasn't really a stranger from the outdoors. She'd made it as far as a few streets away before being scooped back up and taken to that awful nest, learned to terrorize the local songbirds. But she'd learned a lesson. If she wanted to get free, to stay free, she had to get far away from the fence line. To find somewhere buried so deep in the wilds she'd never get caught. To find somewhere she could really stretch her claws and bare her teeth.

She was a elegant cat, with long legs and a light step. Despite her grace and otherwise clean coat, she didn't shy away from the mud as she walked further into the swamp. There had been scents of something on the breeze a while back, but everything was dulled out here. Still, she had to be on the track of something. She'd heard, distantly, about groups of other cats running free in the wilds. If these were them, they'd have to know the tricks to life out here. She'd be willing to do quite a lot in order to make sure this escape attempt was the one that took.

THEY SAW TROUBLE IN MY EYES——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— THEY WERE QUICK TO RECOGNIZE THE DEVIL IN ME

OOC: @SABLESTAR though if someone wants to come along and start asking questions before he shows up, they're welcome to do so!

 

[BONESTALKER]

As silent as the night the woman watches this stranger. The way in which she walks through the swamp with such confidence, not understanding the dangers that this place exudes. For one that smells of twolegs and their cushiony dwellings it could very well mean death for them. So she wonders at why this one is so confident about coming here. Perhaps death is not a fear for them. Hm. The woman finally slips her way behind the other and follows with a casualness before finally calling out. "Why?" She begins cooly and evenly as she slips her way up beside the other, circling to cut in front of their path. Her burning ambers focus sharply on the molly before she straightens her spine. A measure of annoyance shapes her muzzle with a frown before she continues on. "Why are you so deep in the marsh? Do you need directions back to your home?" Perhaps she can show her the way. At the moment she is not as hostile as some of the others that linger in their territory. Best to have her question the intruder now than others who might deal with it in a more...bloodied manner.

 

[PythonCleo]

She doesn't hear or smell the stranger coming, didn't know someone was behind her until she spoke. It's a little embarrassing, but even as the cat steps in front of her she would barely know them to be present without her eyes. Still, Cleo does not start at the initial greeting and refuses to be cowed by the glare. She's made of sterner stuff than that. She dipped her head in acknowledgement—politely, but not timidly—before she opened her mouth.

"I had heard there were free cats out this way. I intend to be one." Her gaze was cool. "I will not be going back to whence I came."

THEY SAW TROUBLE IN MY EYES——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— THEY WERE QUICK TO RECOGNIZE THE DEVIL IN ME

 

[SABLESTAR]

Vetting through Joseph had been painless as it was, but the expectation for another to follow his path felt akin to lightning striking twice. A coincidence, and he was questioning if this would begin to bite him in the tail. At least this one had a bark when facing Bonestalker unexpectedly. If the Clan would take little weight on the housecat scent, she could fit in with ease.

"Sounds like she's made up my mind for me." A moment of humor fell through his tone as he stepped to stand beside the younger molly- near identical to himself in a canvas of black and white. Falling into the dark with ease like mist into the clouds, it is no wonder Cleo would struggle to see or scent them with the swamp's surroundings. "Is it really so bad there? You look well fed to me." And a shining coat to boot, would she be able to withstand the days her fur dulled and there was no kittypet pellets to fill her hunger?

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLESTAR— he/him ･fifty-four moons ･leader; shadowclan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[PythonCleo]

"Sounds like she's made up my mind for me." So this was the one with authority here. She looked the tom up and down. He looked like a fighter, but his posture was not yet aggressive. That hint of humor seemed like a positive sign for her chances. Good—she didn't want to have to keep trekking blindly. She'd do it if she had to, but this suited her purposes better. "Is it really so bad there? You look well fed to me."

She cocked her chin, a little venom dripping into her voice. "So bad? Tell me, have you ever been put up on a stage? Had grubby twoleg paws all over you, pulling and pushing and stretching you? Tugging on your ears? Lifting you up and slinging you around? Locking you in a little cage? Have you ever had one of their kits yank on your tail, and been dragged away for defending yourself? No, I'd rather be hungry with my pride." Her eyes were steely. "I'm no fool. I haven't come all this way on a whim."

THEY SAW TROUBLE IN MY EYES——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— THEY WERE QUICK TO RECOGNIZE THE DEVIL IN ME

 

[Smogmaw.]

It's not too often that Smogmaw entertains the idea of kittypets. Isolated here in the pocosin, far and well removed from any manner of twoleg-dwelling or life, the warrior frequently forgets there exists a life for others of his kind besides the one they know themselves. When he does remember (on the rare occasion that his brain recedes far enough to permit such idle contemplations), he finds it difficult to consider them beyond the scope of their banality. They're commodities. They're ornaments. Decorative pieces, and nothing more, like little bones picked out to adorn his nest.

Is it a life they've chosen for themselves? Evidently not, should the testimony of this latest applicant be considered. Black-tipped ears tilt towards the molly's objection on his approach. Her impassioned explanation carries over Bonestalker and Sablestar's emerging figures, leading Smogmaw to trot forth alongside his companions so that his better, bulky profile blocks more of the swamp from the incomer's view.

Trappings of the feral life hang about his head and shoulders. Scars, wounds both healing and recent, unkempt patches in his pelt and several smears of dried-on dirt across his broad cheek. "But your food comes guaranteed. And they keep you warm when the nights get cold." A lower rasp that his muzzle reverberates. "Some plight you've had, tail-tuggin' and ear-pullin'. You'd be feelin' that ten times harder here."

His voice fades, amber eyes turn to the other two. He senses no strong opposition from his leader. Only from Bonestalker, the offense in her staring bold enough to burn. All the same, Smogmaw waits, and allows himself to step into the pet's paws for a bit. She longs for freedom at the day's end, and freedom is precisely what ShadowClan seeks to protect. At least for their own. "I mean," he mutters toward Sablestar, "if we take her in, she won't be whinin' about the territory nearly as much as some of the others are."

 

[SABLESTAR]

Cleo has taken some offense to his comment, but it didn't make it any less true, and Smogmaw's appearance followed with speaking right from Sablestar's mind. Her food was guaranteed, she was not wanting for anything other than the catch of what came with kittypet life: twoleg interaction. But without the bearings of scars or scrapes over her body, it didn't look like her life was truly so violent. In comparison to a cat with his appearance where scarred flesh exposed between tufts of fur.

He tilted his head towards Smogmaw, listening to his advisement with quiet consideration. If she wanted this so badly, what harm could come from letting her see what it was like? She already had more drive than Joseph had to work with. "You can see for yourself if the life of a Clan cat is for you. But we are no strangers to hunger, or even war. This land faces the likes of foxes, snakes, coyotes and more on occasion. And considering we're in the heart of leafbare, your hunting will be harshly tested." If for the sake of her own survival, most of all.

His warnings don't seem to hold off much of her motivation, and so he continued with an accepting prompt, "If we're to get familiar with one another, my name is Sablestar. I lead ShadowClan, and these two are your Clanmates- Bonestalker and Smogmaw. Your name will fit appropriately with theirs once you've integrated, but what do we call you for now?"

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLESTAR— he/him ･fifty-four moons ･leader; shadowclan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes