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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 17:43:27 GMT -5
WELCOME
Deep within a shadowed forest, you will find Foxglove Clan.
A proud group of cats, the closest knit bunch you could ever imagine, with a difficult history they barely survived.
Here secrets run as deep as the roots of the forest's trees.
As unshakeable as the weeds among the helpful herbs.
But the cats are not the only ones around here with secrets.
Secrets, war and fear are all things Foxglove Clan have known far too well in the moons of their lives.
But there is magic here too, if you just know where to look.
1. Rule of Thumb: When in doubt, check ye olde Forum Rules out.
2. Activity: No set activity requirements unless you would like to take on a Roleplay important role, such as medicine cat or deputy, or some role in a Clan-wide plot, in which case at least twice a week please. Otherwise come and go as you please.
3. Literacy: aim for legible, (coming from the Queen of the dumbest typos you'll likely ever see), with decent grammar and punctuation. Everyone makes mistakes and I certainly wont judge you for them. However, I will be a little more of a stickler when it comes to content. Ideally aim for 5+ sentences per character when posting, enough content that people you're roleplaying with have something to respond to please. War and Peace isn't necessary, but a lot more fun to play off of.
4. Godmodding/Powerplaying: just don't. Characters get hurt, ill, lose battles, miss catches etc, and characters that are perfect in every imaginable way aren't very fun to play off of. Aim for realisim, pretty please. I'll allow some leniency in terms of appearances, i.e. unusual patterns, eye colours, etc. But no wings, no magical powers, etc please. If your character forms are Strongstar, the 43 year old cat who's fought off thirteen wolves before lunch, I will request you make some reasonable adjustments.
5. Joining: join with one cat, join with ten, don't join at all and just sit in the shadows laughing at how ugly this thread is, you do you. I just ask you please take on only as many as you can handle. Try to keep genders even, but I won't be overly strict. If you are open for anything character-wise, i.e. relationships or you've a plotline in mind, mention it in your form. The password is your favourite mythical creature. Didn't realise this had to be specified, but please for the sake of the person who's got to copy and paste it all's sanity, use the form provided. Any information not available in the slots provided, can just go in 'anything else!' You'll get brownie points for using my form!
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 17:43:46 GMT -5
ABOUT THE CLAN
The original clan called a moorland and sparse patch of woodland their home, a stone's throw away from a large body of water they were good swimmers, runners. They were never overly built for power and strength, for their was never much need for it. So the journey to this home left them a little bit like fish out of water.
But slowly over the generations, cats of Foxglove Clan have slowly adapted to become more fit for their surroundings. Cats better suited for these land are becoming more common, but the remnants of the types of cat that once made up the Clan still linger in the bloodlines of the cats here.
As they slowly adapt to the thick forests and hilly terrain that is the new territory, the typical Foxglove Clan cat has evolved into a burlier type than before. Built to climb trees, navigate difficult terrain, we aren't necessarily the largest but Cats are built for muscle.
Those with darker colours and patterned markings tend to have an easier time of blending in with the forests around here. Though this isn't necessarily the rule of thumb.
Fae, for our purposes, (cough cough Sarah J Maas), are small, humanoid creatures with wings. Best known for their mischief and wreaking havoc, and generally trying to induce chaos in the lives of those they come across. They are very rarely truly malicious unless wronged beforehand, but when wronged they can be as vicious as any badger.
Living among fairies has left the Clan with a number of traditions that other Clans would likely find very strange. These are as follows:
1. Gifted Cats: on very rare occasions, a kitten is born that the Clan refers to as being 'Fae-blessed,' and this tends to manifest in a great number of ways, and is honestly up to intepretation by the Clan. Previous examples include cats born with extra toes, odd coloured eyes or two tails. They are seen as favourable gifts to the Clan by the fairies we share our forests with, and are supposedly better warriors because of it. It has been many moons since the Clan has had one born to it.
2. Killing a Fae: the fairies of our territory do occasionally show themselves to the Clan cats, but rarely in their 'true form.' More often than not they show themselves as prey or predator species, though rarely another cat. They are easily picked out by their overly colourful coats, like a thrush with a very deep red featherset, or a fox with a star-speckled coat. But killing them is absolutely forbidden, and highly punishable.
3. Night of the New Moon: the importance of the full-moon to the fae has somewhat ruined the old tradition of gathering on nights of the full moon. Instead, the Clan has placed greater significance on nights of the crescent moon. As this is when the fae seem less active in our territories.
4. The Sacrifice: on the night of the crescent moon, all cats capable of hunting their own prey gather beside the fairy ring in order to make a sacrifice, these would be made to appease the magic of the lands we live upon. Once upon a time this was a night of dread, for it would often be the loss of a family member, a friend or an elder. In the happier moons of more recent times, this practice has become the sacrifice of prey, herbs, or more symbolic sacrifices. These are now nights of laughter, of play. But though many generations have passed within the Clan since blood sacrifices were made at the Fairy Ring, no cat alive today remembers those times first-paw. But the stories of those dark times, and the circumstances which had forced our Leader's paw.
5. Leadership Change: when the previous leader or healer of the Clan meets their demise or otherwise retires, and a newcomer is chosen or promoted to fill that place, their ceremony takes place within the Meadow of the Fairy Ring. The Clan gathers to celebrate the event, and as the joyous event comes to and end the leader will step into the fairy ring and fall asleep there. When they awake they will have spoken one with those whoβve gone before, now gifted with 9 lives. If they wake up at all.
6. Burials - all noble cats who die in service of the clan are buried in the meadow of the Fairy Ring. Those closest to the deceased sleep beside them, and as dawn bleeds into the clearing the body of the deceased has disappeared. However, only the Clan's Leader and Healer are offered the privilege of being laid to rest within the Fairy Ring itself.
HISTORYThe Warriors of Foxglove Clan have traversed its sprawling territories for many moons, the paths our footsteps have left on these lands date back decades, maybe even centuries. The forests here are our homes, yet when they are shared with the fairies of these forests, even after all these years its hard to feel like anything more than a slightly unwelcome visitor.
But the Cats here have nowhere else to go.
For even all these generations later, the elders still speak of the destruction in the worlds beyond the forest they'd eventually call home. Of forests rendered to rubble, twolegs encroaching on every available space.
The cats that starved and died before Foxglove Clan eventually settled these forests.
So deep within the Forests, the Clan doubted twolegs would ever be able to find them here. Foxglove Clan started their lives anew, in a world quite different from the sparse woodland and moorland that had been their former home.
But what the heart of the Clan hadn't and would never change.
The world they have entered, however, is different. It would take moons to notice, and generations to understand.
Even to this date the Clan isn't entirely sure the kind of world they brought their Clan into.
Life among mischievous spirits, or death at the jaws of Twolegs. The choice seemed obvious enough.
For many generations the Clan has resided in the Forests it now knows as its home. There are no cats left alive who took the journey from the original home to this new place, and the star-dotted warriors of the skies that followed us even here remember less and less of the world before.
The exact nature of the founding of Foxglove Clan has been lost to history, but the renowned leader who lead us to these forests, and knitted together a clan on the brink of destruction was a shecat known as Ravenstar, and all these years later, Queens will still name the children they wish to be brave and kind Ravenkit in her honour. And more generally bird-based names are very popular among our cats.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 17:43:58 GMT -5
TERRITORY
Foxglove Clan has made a home in the depths of a very large, very thick forest. In some places the foliage overhead becomes so thick that the sunlight struggles to break through the canopy. A small but fast-rushing river slices through the south-east parts of the territory, broad enough that most aren't strong enough swimmers to cross it so this acts as a natural boundary to that side of the territory. The Warriors of our clan are fair cats, who do not take up more space than they need for themselves, but are equally happiest among their own, so don't tend to be overly friendly with outsiders.
There is hardly a part of our territory that isn't, in some way, marked by the fae creatures that we share our home with. If you look closely enough to spot it, they are everywhere, even if they don't often show themselves to the naked eye.
The Fairy Circle: to the eastern side of the territory, the forests thin a little and open into bare trees, marked only by a spattering of trees. It would be an ideal place to hunt rabbits and hares, but there is a good reason cat's don't come here unless absolutely necessary. This is where the fairy circle is found, a large ringlet of mushrooms, wider than three fox-lengths in breadth. It is allegedly here that the fairies can best be seen on nights of the full moon, dancing in the starlight and beckoning cats closer. Step into the circle on those nights, and chances are you won't step out again. The fields the Fairy Circle is located in is bordered by broad hawthorn bushes.
The Babbling Brook: one of the many offsets of the territory's broad river, but this is one of the steadier sources of water. Only ankle-deep on a rather tall warrior, it is a good spot to introduce younglings to swimming in a stable environment. Follow the waters west and there is a small family of otters that make their home on the banks.
The Hickory Bridge: the best way to cross the large ravine without needing to climb it. A large, quite old hickory tree felled during a storm many moons ago, creating a near perfect bridge to cross the ravine by. The dead branches and roots on either side also offer good climbing practice to unsure paws.
Lightning Hill: toward the eastern edge of the territory, our home becomes a fair bit steeper, and the highest point of our territory is a place the Cats know as Lightning Hill. Here the winds howl something fierce, and is largely a rather empty patch of land, only long-grasses and low-laying shrubs covering the terrain. Any trees that might have once grown here long knocked down by the wind, the only evidence of them the roots that once held them in place only to fail. The only remaining tree in sight from here is an old sycamore tree, burned from the inside out when lightning struck it.
Echoing Caverns: toward the opposite end of the ravine that the cats make their camp on, a large, sprawling cavern can be accessed through a small tunnel. Here quite a large number of bats make their homes, as well as the occasional badger or fox. The landmark takes its name for the fact that even the softest whisper can evolve into a shout within its walls, so this is a place for hunting for those only with very quite paws.
Fallen Oaks: during a particularly vicious thunderstorm one Newleaf, a great oak tree was torn from its roots, in something of a vicious domino effect it knocked down several old trees nearby, leaving a tangle of trees. Squirrels can still be found scurrying up and down the dead bark, and itβs a favoured place for apprentices to climb and play. The largest at the centre is hollowed, and is a great place to hide.
Moonlit Grove: a small portion of the forest not very far from camp where the otherwise thick trees of our forests begin to thin, the terrain here is a fair bit hillier than would otherwise be considered the norm for our territories. Due to the thinner canopy of trees, this is the place the moon and stars can easiest be seen in the territory, that combined with the large amount of herbs that can be found growing here means itβs a favoured spot for the medicine cat.
CAMP
Foxglove Clan makes its camp within a fairly shallow but rather broad, limestone ravine that slices through the northern point of our territory. Toward the most eastern point of it, the ravine naturally becomes quite layered, so skill paws helped carve away the naturally crumbly stone to help create the nooks and crannies our cats create their dens in.
Groundwater drains through some of the rocks into a small series of pools to the corner of camp, providing the cats of Foxglove Clan constant access to water.
Leader's Den: a small den tucked beneath the ledges of the warriorβs den, settled by the path that leads up into the higher ledges of the camp. It is a small, presumptuous cave, light filtering through the entrance, which is covered by fronds of ivy. Providing enough space for the leader and their mate to make a home but not much else.
Medicine Cat Den: a few felled logs have been propped against the wall of the ravine itself to create a comfortable den for the clan's healer and any unfortunate patients. Skilled paws have encouraged ivy to grow across the logs, adding a layer of insulation to the den.
Warrior's Den: a den carved into the three walls of the ravine, it is sprawling and large, rarely has it ever reached even close to maximum capacity. A great number of warriors can make their dens comfortably here before ever feeling squished together. Elders are not forced from the warriors den on retirement, rather offered nests at the heart of it where it's often the warmest. That or they are offered spots in the nursery to help raise the next generation.
Apprentice's Den: a large blackberry bush has long stopped bearing produce, big the branches still bare enough branches to offer a comfortable sleeping quarters for the clanβs warriors in training.
Nursery: a rather old treeβs roots have aged so much that they are rather gnarled, peeking out of the very earth that has kept it rooted in place for so long. In the hollow spaces underneath the motherβs of the clan bare and raise their kittens. |
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 17:44:09 GMT -5
LEADER
A broad shouldered, large male, this is a tom youβd better believe suited for fighting now, asking questions later than youβd ever believe him to have a talent for diplomacy, yet this warriorβs tongue is as silver as the fur gracing his muscular frame. A large tom, built well for climbing, speed isnβt his best skill, but on the battlefield he moves like a shadow. A thick, silver grey pelt keeps him warm, marked with thick bands of darker grey tabby markings. A large muzzle you might attest to maine-coon somewhere in his lineage, and large, dark amber eyes pick this cat out from a crowd. His fur darkens around the throat, and this marking leaks into the fur of his face as a black mask. From a young age, a somewhat vicious blend of quick wit and a sharp tongue were brilliant at getting him out of the very trouble heβd often earn for himself. Elders of the clan will attest to the fact no one was surprised when the ambitious tom earned himself a spot at the top of the warriorβs ranks, and hardly rested till his suffix became Star. Fortunately, for frankly the whole forest, this warriorβs ambition does not, for the most part manifest as malice. But the urge to become the best of the best meant this warrior largely neglected the simpler things in life, and has only really begun thinking about things like a mate and a family to continue this legacy heβs fought so hard for in the later moons of his life.
Open for claiming, just let me know.
MEDICINE CATHoneybounce is a light cream colored tom with medium length fur. His cream fur is decorated with slightly darker stripes and amber eyes. Sometimes, if you look close enough, you can see pieces of herb stuck in his fur. Honeybounce is a bubbly cat with a friendly personality. He tries his best to be sweet and kind to everybody, but can sometimes find it hard. When treating patients, he can be seen as bossy and demanding, but he only does it to ensure that his patients get the best care they can. He has never really understood why cats fight, but goes along with it anyway.
APPRENTICEOpen for claiming, just let me know. Not a -paw (that makes sense in my head) and ideally an evil-y.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 17:44:19 GMT -5
SENIOR WARRIORS| Swiftsoar | ladylantsov |While his mother named him for the bird, the shecat's intuition appears to be second to none, for this warrior is one of the most quick-footed warriors of the Clan. Even in Swiftsoar's older moons, one glance at this cat picks him out as a someone built for speed. Narrow built, a tom that harkens back to bloodlines that have slowly diluted with burlier cats that the Clan is better known to foster. On the smaller side, Swiftsoar is a lean creature beneath the thick mop of dark tabby fur that covers his frame. He has deep, forest green eyes, and each of his four legs is marked by a nearly knee high sock. The swirl of dark and lighter browns of his body is further marred by a splash of white across his chest, which narrows to a rivulet that follows the length of his fluffy belly. The runt of his litter, and frankly a warrior that never bulked out the way his mother always promised he would, Swiftsoar was picked on for much of his young life. This has created a guarded, reserved tom who does not open his heart to others quickly. One to watch from the shadows, he is one to keep his opinions to himself, but his grudges on his sleeve. He is easily slighted and isn't one that forgives quickly. But once you have earned this warrior's true loyalty, you will struggle to pick out a closer friend.
A very, very dark grey that almost translates as black in poor lighting, the darker stripes of tabby black are barely visible unless the shecat stands in direct sunlight. A long furred shecat, her face is framed with long, white whiskers. Once upon a time she boasted a long, beautiful and plumed tail, however, as a young apprentice she and her mentor got in a fight with a badger, who nearly bit clean through her tail. The medicine cat was forced to finish the job and amputate it to prevent infection setting in. Ever since Dappledbriar has been very self-conscious, afraid of climbing - difficult considering the environment she calls her home, and terrified of badgers. This is a shecat who was born to be a mother, not built for war-fare, she would have been fated for the medicine cat's den had it not been for the rather last-minute realisation it would mean she could never be a mother. Despite her soft nature, Dappledbriar is a protective little thing, almost hilariously so considering just how sweet she is for the most part. She views pretty much every cat younger than her as a sibling or at least her family, and longs for the day she bares kits of her own.
Tallflame, as his name describes, is a tall, long-limbed cat. His legs are almost stick-like and his muzzle is sharp. Dark orange starts on his back, but it gradually gets lighter down his legs and face. He has bright, vibrant green eyes and a long, skinny tail. Tallflame is a strong warrior. He often uses his long limbs in his favor when it comes to battle and sees them as an advantage. Aside from being a stronger warrior, he is helpful in the Clan. He tries his best to do as asked and refuses to accept failure. He is very loyal to his Clan and could never imagine breaking the warrior code.
Waspfire is an elegant looking tom, and he is very prideful with his looks. a large tom, he is typically an imposing figure with his impressive height, often towering over other cats due to his breed. he is a long-haired calico tom; his fur is majorly black with ginger patches and a white chest and muzzle. he takes great care of his fur, making sure that it isn't knotted nor tangled. his eyes are large and a soft green color. Waspfire holds an air of mystery around him. he is a closed off cat with few close friends, though his love and devotion to both them and his clan is unmatched. he is secretive and doesn't tend to share personal emotions and thoughts with many. neither an introvert or an extrovert, Waspfire isn't one to join in clan frivolous activities, but he will gladly sit on the side lines, watch, and add his inputs from time to time. an active participant in clan life, Waspfire isn't one to sit around camp all day, and would much rather be out in the middle of a patrol or a hunting party. while he is not necessarily a pessimist, he does have his fair share of worries about the world around him. always the rational one, Waspfire likes to think things through and doesn't take kindly to impulsivity. he is intuitive and a good judge of character with an analytical mind and a real eye for detail, which makes him an expert at recognizing lies and deceit. he is quite witty but equally critical and scathing, Waspfire won't hesitate to give you a piece of his mind if you get on his bad side.
Spiderlily is just as beautifully captivating as her father, maybe even more. large in size, she is a well-muscular, yet feminine, build to her with a slender frame. she is a long-haired calico molly. like her father, her fur is mostly black, and she has fewer ginger patches them him. she has a white chest and paws. one ear is tipped with white, while the other is mostly black with a little ginger. her ears have little fur tuffs at the ends of them. she possesses the same large green eyes as her father. Spiderlily is a relatively aggressive feline who prefers to be alone rather than around others. she's not much a talker, she despises small talk and usually communicates through a series a head nods and grunts unless otherwise needed. she doesn't work well with others; she struggles with group activities due to her stubborn nature and her inability to properly communicate. Spiderlily is confident in herself and her skills, she rarely needs reassurance in her abilities, but she wouldn't mind a praise or two every now and again. her entire being is ruled by logic, emotion has no say in her daily life. she is not easily swayed her emotions, easily blocking them out. however, this also makes life tough, especially when it comes to the romantic aspects of her life. she struggles with self-expressions, never knowing the right words to say to those she may care about. Spiderlily constantly feels the need to live up to the status of her family. Spiderlily is the oldest of her litter, meaning she has always taken on the majority of the responsibility growing up. despite this, she has never felt like she is enough and takes on more responsibility despite the heavy weight on her shoulders. she has had a rather normal upbringing despite this.
A lean and long-furred tom, Copperhoney is built for fighting with his muscular frame. His orange fur ranges from golden to his face, and chest, to ruddy with a dark stripe starting from the top of his head and following down his spine. Even his eyes are a warm shade of amber, encouraging his overall ginger appearance. Copperhoney is the silent and stoic type, making him a difficult cat to read. He's always been known to be an efficient hard-worker who struggles to be personable, and even though he is quiet, Copperhoney isn't afraid to be bold or speak his mind when he needs to. While he is a little awkward, he does try to connect with others to best of his abilities.
| Yarrowthroat | πππππ’ |
Yarrowthroat is average sized compared to the rest of her family, making her the second smallest compared to her sisters. While she doesn't consider herself to be outright beautiful, she's still a very captivating feline with her long legs, slender frame, and lean muscles that favor her a very feminine physique. Her fluffy pelt is ginger and black, leaning more tortoiseshell than calico, and she has large, strikingly yellow eyes. Yarrowthroat has never been an easy cat to like, she's nosy, stubborn, unforgiving, and highly critical. She needs others to prove to her why they're worth her time, with the exception of a certain few. Yarrowthroat is the most sociable of her family and has never been afraid to say what's on her mind, often butting heads with cats who disagree with her. Despite her polarizing personality, she does silently care for others and prefers to keep a tight-knit group. Being the middle born in her litter, Yarrowthroat has shown to be the most competitive and independent of her sisters, and possessed a small rebellious streak when she was an apprentice. However she quickly got her act together in an effort to please her parents. She's very perceptive of others emotions and is often the one to keep the peace when it comes to family dynamics.
Quite the burly tom, Beetleblaze is a larger than average-sized cat with a handsome face and an attractive way of speaking. He's a furry gray tabby with a berry nose and bright green eyes. His tall ears fit his square head perfectly, adorned with gray fluff at the ends. Beetleblaze is a fun and sociable feline who rarely takes himself seriously. He was always finding himself in trouble as an apprentice and would often sneak out of camp whenever possible. He struggles with staying on task if he doesn't find it amusing, shrugging his responsibility off on anyone else who's willing, or unwilling, to take it. At his core, Beetleblaze is a flirt with commitment issues that would rather be sunbathing than marking borders. Now that he has a son, there is some attempt from the tom of being a good father, he wants to at least be present, unlike his own father.
APPRENTICES| Larkpaw | ladylantsov |
A dainty little shecat, when she puts her mind to it Larkpaw is viper-fast on those short legs of hers, and a talented mentor has left her with a reasonable brain in her head. A tortoiseshell shecat, she is splashed with splodges of creamy white particularly around her throat and chest, leaving her with the similar markings of a male lark bird. Her coat is short but very silk-soft, despite the fact she rarely remembers to take decent care of it, and exaggerated tufts crown her small head at either ear-tip, she has faded shades of orange peeking through otherwise dark black, particularly at her cheeks. Something of a dreamer, Larkpaw is commonly found in the medicine cat den for the sheer fact she rarely looks where she is going, her head is always in the clouds or distracted with something or other meaning she's often stubbing her paw or loosing her footing. Her mentor and parents had hoped she might mature with age, but that is yet to happen and she is now reaching the end of her apprenticeship. Larkpaw would show promise of being an excellent warrior, with a particular penchant for brawling despite her small size, if only she could pay attention to the here and now, not the what if's and maybes.
A small, fluffy she-cat with dainty paws. Her white, silky fur is combined with a silver face with tabby stripes. Her tail is also the same silver while her eyes are a stunning shade of blue. Frostpaw is a sweet, caring cat with a talent for making others feel better. She tries her best to be a great apprentice and Clanmate. Her goal is to become the best warrior she can be so that she'll be able to protect her Clan. Frostpaw values her fur and spends a lot of tie grooming it to make sure it stays healthy, soft, and beautiful.
Cloudpaw is a large, white tom. His fur isn't very long except for on his tail, which fans out like a feather. He has long whiskers and amber eyes. Cloudpaw is a relatively quiet cat. He doesn't really talk much to other cats and likes it that way. Although he's quiet, once he's around cats he likes and trusts he can be a little more talkative and sarcastic. Although he doesn't seem to care what others think of him, the truth is that he cares a lot. When he's upset, he tends to snap at others, even those he trusts and cares about.
Petalpaw is a feminine feline by nature, and he takes great pride in his looks. a slender, pure white tom, Petalpaw is easy to stick out amongst others. he's rather unique in appearance when it comes to his eyes. Petalpaw has sectoral heterochrimia - mostly brown with a small section of blue in both eyes. Petalpaw is an intelligent individual with an impressive memory. he rarely boasts about his intelligence, though he does get easily frustrated when others around him struggle to grasp concepts that he may find easy. despite this, he never believes anyone is below him and treats everyone with immense respect, especially cats that are older than him. he can often be snippity and short with others, mostly whenever he feels overwhelmed or anxious, whenever he feels too busy or he is being pulled in multiple directions. he's not the best when it comes to multi-tasking, when he is working on something, he struggles to hold a conversation with another unless it is about the activity in which he is working on. he doesn't like to argue, and even when the other cat is in the wrong, he will often concede and say they are correct in order to quick dispel the argument at paw. while he tries to look on the positive side of things, Petalpaw can't help but peek at the pessimistic aspects of every situation, warning others of the potentials.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 17:44:31 GMT -5
QUEENS & KITS| Mudflake | π
π΄πΌπΏπΎ |
Mudflake is an average sized she-cat with medium length fur. Her fur is white with dapples and flecks of brown. Her ears are a dark brown color paired with hazel eyes. Mudflake can often be considered a silly cat. She doesn't take a lot of situations seriously and likes to joke around. She doesn't handle serious situations well and uses joking around as a sort of coping mechanism. Underneath all the joking is really a cat who is too sensitive for her own good.
Loachflower is much smaller than her father and sister, with much stubbier legs. she is plump from her recent pregnancy and her fluffy fur makes her appear bigger as well. while she is also a calico molly, her fur is mostly white instead of black with patches of ginger and black throughout her fur. she has soft, pale green eyes. Loachflower was always a very hyper feline who rarely ever listened to logic. her life revolved around what she wants; she was a selfish cat who rarely thought about the feelings of others. she was troublesome and reckless, rarely thinking about the consequences of her actions until it was too late. even then, she left said consequences to be dealt with by anyone other than herself. since the birth of her son, Loachflower has tried to clean up her act, to be a good mother to her only kitten. she struggles and still tends to act out; she never knows when to shut her mouth and keep quiet. the life of a queen holds very little value to her, however, with her need to constantly be on the move. Being the youngest of her litter, Loachflower has always been troublesome and adventurous, even as a kitten. she has gotten her fair share of verbal lashing from her father in her youth. unlike her siblings, Loachflower didn't care about the high statuses her parents maintained, and she lived in the shadows of her siblings who always tried to be perfect. this caused her to act out and become troublesome, which in turn, caused her parents to disown her as a young apprentice; her mother didn't want to be associated with such a troublesome feline. being an outcast within her own family caused Loachflower to be reckless, so it was no wonder that she became pregnant after hooking up with a fellow warrior one time.
- | Cuckookit | daydreams | is a large kitten for his age, however he is very scrawny. he is a fluffy grey and brown kitten with darker stripes along his body. he has large pale amber eyes. At such a young age, cuckookit's personality is still developing. however, as of now, he holds all the wonder and curiosity that every kit his age has. despite this, he's a very introverted kitten who prefers to observe from afar rather than get involved. He is surprisingly logical about most situations, he's rather intelligent. he can be rather harsh without meaning too, simply because he doesn't understand how his words can affect those around him.
| Nightrose | πππππ’ |
While short in stature, Nightrose's small frame is engulfed by all of her fluffy, black fur, making her appear larger than she actually is. She has piercing, yellow eyes that contrast her soft, round face, and harbors an even fluffier tail that's nearly the same size as her. Nightrose moves with a certain silent grace, known to be quick on her thin paws, moving like a jackrabbit along the forest floor while blending perfectly into the shadows and all but disappearing in the night. In direct sunlight, her fur tends to glow in soft orange hues. Brimming with a quiet passion, Nightrose tends to be warm, yet soft-spoken. She falls on the more shy side of things and doesn't mind blending into the background. The kind she-cat has a nurturing nature and is extremely loyal to her clan, and most importantly, her family. Due to her bashfulness, Nightrose is easy to fluster and has a hard time speaking up for herself when confronted. However, she's quick to act under pressure and maintains a level head. OUTSIDER| Name | screenname |
Here be cats, will reserve right to limit as there shouldn't be tonnes and tonnes based on location of the Clan.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 18:06:00 GMT -5
Plot Ideas
Always open for more plot ideas both minor and major, so if you have something to propose always feel more than welcome to come to me with it. For Clan-wide ideas ideally let me know ahead of time, but smaller, handful of cat-bits, you're more than welcome to come up with without my permission.
Major Plots
This is for now a fairly rough outline of something I thought might be fun and tie in with the fae creatures we share our homes with. The fae will for the most part be NPC mostly seen from the shadows, so this will be the first opportunity to roleplay one, and we can discuss with whoever would like to take on the role ideas on how that might play out.
Let me know if you'd like any part in this plot, it will be something Clan-wide that all the cats have to deal with and see the consequences of.
If you have ideas on how to expand this, or something you'd like to implement just let me know.
Idea Outline
The fae are mischievous creatures, but rarely malicious.
However, that is about to change.
A new litter of kits is born to Foxglove Clan, healthy happy little ones who show promise of becoming strong warriors if given the chance to grow. But unbeknown to the Queen who kitted them, as she slept one of her kits was stolen from the nest, and replaced with a lookalike.
A fae creature. A changeling.
The kit will cause havoc and mayhem, in small doses at first. But around them, slowly but surely things will begin going wrong.
And the mother will realise the truth maybe too late.
Will she find her stolen kit or was the child dead the night it was born, and will her changeling child be allowed to stay in the home it has made for itself?
Minor Plots
1. The Angel of Death
This idea will have been happening since before the official opening of the Roleplay. You are welcome to reference cats who've died without needing to make forms, and generally there will be an air of unease about the cats. No one is quite convinced there's a murderer on the loose just yet, but as time passes in-clan it will become more obvious.
If you'd like your character to be our so-called angel, put so in the forms. Similarly if you'd like to be someone killed by them, someone who narrowly escapes, etc, let me know. This is hopefully a plot we can build and expand together.
Idea Outline
For several moons now cats have been dying randomly, otherwise healthy felines from warriors, to kits, to elders and everything in between have been found dead for no clear reason.
The first handful the Clan put down to tragic accidents, but the Clan are growing more and more suspicious that there is a murderer in our ranks.
and the Clan becomes more desperate to find out who before another clan-mate dies.
Unbeknown to our warriors, there has been a malicious cat in our ranks for quite a few moons now. The medicine cat has watched its Clan wither with what they view as weak-blood, and has been weeding out what they view as unworthy lines within the Clan. Poisoning them at random intervals, initially so sporadically that the Clan would think it little more than a string of very unfortunate luck.
But the medicine cat is becoming power hungry.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 18:06:54 GMT -5
MEMBER'S INDEX RELATIONSHIP INDEX
| Cat & Cat | Mentor & Apprentice | Cat x Cat | Mates | Cat = Cat | Parent = Kit |
Waspfire & ??? = Spiderlily, Loachflower and Yarrowthroat.
Beetleblaze & Spiderlily = Cuckookit.
Lynxstar & Nightrose = Unborn Kits
Copperhoney & Mudflake = Unborn Kits.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 1, 2024 18:13:59 GMT -5
Iβve no idea why the text has randomly gone tiny but letβs pretend thatβs intentional - save
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 3, 2024 18:42:47 GMT -5
|| Slowly major emphasis on slowly coming together! ||
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 6, 2024 4:46:03 GMT -5
I feel like I'm missing something from the rules, but wot - save
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 6, 2024 4:51:30 GMT -5
Yes I'm having fun with these saves - save
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 6, 2024 4:57:03 GMT -5
If anyone so much as hears me breathe the words "I'd like to do my own coding again" - congratulations on your new, unimpeded right to find me and punch me in the face.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 6, 2024 8:35:43 GMT -5
|| Do I want a StarClan/Dark Forest section. Will it ever be relevant? By asking myself that question am I automatically damning myself to eventually need a StarClan/Dark Forest section.
Do I have the will power to make one?
Questions, questions.||
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 6, 2024 18:17:00 GMT -5
|| And, the longest Clan to ever take to open especially when you consider the result, we are OPEN
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 7, 2024 19:58:44 GMT -5
|| Had intended to get starters up tonight but sadly will need to be tomorrow!
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 9, 2024 21:44:17 GMT -5
|| I promise I will not be this awful going forward Iβve just had the most singularly manic week known to man
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 12, 2024 4:32:53 GMT -5
 LYNXSTAR β°ββ°ββ°β Sprawled out comfortably upon the highest point of the Foxglove Ravine, a shadow quietly observes the camp below. Dark amber eyes, like pools of rich starlight against the sea of dark greys and blacks that were the tom's face, track careful paths across the nooks and crannies of the ravine.
At ease, but ever watchful.
Stationery was not a trait that came easily to this tom. It was a learned thing, and something he had to keep honed.
A dawn patrol he'd lead to the western borders of their territory had kept him up late - though, as his gaze travels to the newly returned Swiftsoar, apparently the leader had had something of a sleep in compared to the brown tabby tom. Usually he would have thrown himself at the next task that came his way, rallied another patrol to go whereever the territory called him.
Instead, he had forced himself to find somewhere to settle, to reflect and consider the day ahead of them.
He could see the benefits of it, why it could be helpful rather than charging in like a clueless badger like he might have done during his younger moons.
But by the stars was it boring.
Agreeing to take a step back from working like a well-oiled but rather abused piece of machinery, of not lunging at the first presented task and instead prioritising where his attention could best serve the clan was... a new skill to put it mildly. So many moons of working himself half ragged to get here, where he'd dreamt of being for so long.
Now he was finally here, had achieved the dream he'd prayed for as long as he could remember, since he'd been little more than a kitten at his dam's side. When he'd first learned the meaning of the word leader. It still took some getting used to, even though he'd been known by the name Lynxstar for nearing on 3 seasons now.
Had survived a Leafbare as it, had made sure his clan had done the same.
Lynxstar inhales, the morning air cool and crisp in his lungs. Tasting of dew on long-grasses, the ancient stone carved into the face of the ravine, of cats mulling about what of the early morning sunlight that can creep through the thick canopy of foliage over their heads.
Of home.
It had taken far more moons of this life than Lynxstar liked, to realise that there were things of importance, beyond the status he could earn himself within this Clan. Had it not been for the lives his leadership granted him, it might already prove too late to do something about that. Two lives down already, there were many who weren't as lucky as he was.
And the muscled Tom had spent the later moons of this life trying to fix just that.
 SWIFTSOAR βοΈ βοΈ βοΈ By the time the rest of camp had begun to rouse from well-earned slumbers, the tabby warrior known as Swiftsoar had already been up since moonhigh had bathed the forests with dappled silver. And the senior tom hadn't returned until the morning sun had made a comfortable distance over the horizon and into the skies above the green canopies.
Twin mice hang from his maw, dangling by their tails and swinging with the pace of his trot, plump with the promises of new-leaf's abundance.
There is a pride to his gaze which doesn't quite translate to the slight limp to his pawsteps as he returns to the ravines Foxglove Clan has called its camp for generations.
A sharp-eared cat, or rather anyone with an even remotely good set of eyes on their heads, could note the particularly careful way he puts down his rear right paw. Drawing it back from the dry earth quickly, like something's burned him.
Attempts, futile as they continually proved, had been made to slow Swiftsoar down, particularly now he was reaching comfortably into the status of senior warrior. Though the title still made his whiskers twitch with the feeling of offence.
In Swiftsoar's head senior warriors were pitiful creatures permitted to keep their title of warrior as more of a kindness than it was something of actual use. They were greying cats who limped across camp, were offered the comfier nests, the easier patrol routes, and were generally babied along until they finally accepted the cost of their moons, and retired to the elders den. Where they tended to die not-too quiet deaths.
That wasn't a descriptor he'd easily nor willingly put to his own name.
But now as he catches reflections of himself as he dips down for a drink, and sees the grey speckling his own muzzle, he realises the weight of his own moons might be catching up to him quicker than he'd hoped.
But Swiftsoar had pushed too hard for too long, and the youthful body that had once made that possible was now doing its best to make him regret some of the more rash decisions of this life. Even as he considers them, his right hip begins to ache something fierce, a throwback to an old injury that bothered him more and more these days. Usually it was bareable, but this last Leafbare he had found himself more reliant on the assistance of the Medicine Cats then he would ever allow himself to admit aloud.
Stars help the poor cat who'd hazarded to suggest he take it a little slower, Swiftsoar's common sense alone had saved the younger cat from the cuffing of a lifetime.
But now as he settles the pair of mice onto the fresh-kill pile, there is a small part at the very back of his mind that suggests the medicine cats might just have been right.
But the tom quickly drowns out any such ridiculous notions by casting his gaze across the narrow confines of camp, looking for the next job to distract himself with.
 DAPPLEDBRIAR Dappledbriar sits so calmly an onlooker would have struggled to note the tempest that was currently brewing in the depths of her chest. Aside from the twitch of her tail, there is very little to hint at the emotions burning through her system like a wildfire set loose on dry trees.
Her night had been fitful, spent tossing and turning until she'd finally departed the den just before dawn had begun bleeding through the forest canopies. Promises to shred her ears if she came back in chasing her through the entrance.
Now the Warrior sits, tucked in the shadows of the ravine walls, paws folded up neatly beneath her and back to the wind, comfortable but restless. Her ears echoing not with the playful cruelty of her clanmates, but the sounds of her dreams, the howling screams of them.
Dreams of that sort had haunted her nights for the past few moons, leaving her so sleep deprived that she was prone to forgetting where to put her own paws. The warrior had attended the medicine cat den more than a few times, pleading for some sort of relief from her own mind.
Honeybounce had been empathetic - he always was. But could be of little use.
It seemed the fairies had found joy in tormenting the young shecat, and about that very little could be done. He had offered her poppy seeds and the promise that they very usually got bored of tormenting just the one cat, and would likely move on to the next victim soon enough.
Soon enough was quickly beginning to feel like eventually, and how that now felt like she would be stuck that way forever.
The shecat, with an active imagination at the very best of times, was no stranger to dreams and nightmares. But these had a particular brand of cruelty to them like nothing she'd known before, like her very mind had turned against itself.
It all felt so real.
Even now in the waking hours after, she could still almost feel those little mouths suckling hungrily at her belly. Even now her heart pounds with the memory of the pain she'd felt when they'd been snatched by some unseen force away from the warmth of her.
Dappledbriar had dreamed practically her entire life of a family of her own. The shecat's own mother had often joked that the little shecat had been born to be a mother, sweet, caring and protective over pretty much everything she knew.
The Shecat longed for kits of her own.
But if her dreams hinted even slightly at the fate they might meet - she would sooner damn herself to a life without than she would risk hurting her own flesh and blood that way.
But it didn't change how real those faceless, yet beautiful kits had felt to her.
Kits she'd never known, it seemed for now would never know.
 LARKPAW π
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ͺ From the Elder's den there was currently coming a variety of disgruntled grumbles and groans, and the occasional promise to StarClan that she would spend the rest of her life eternally grateful if the Stars damned moss would just behave itself. It was not a particularly sore elder trying to find the energy to rouse that particular morning, nor a badger who'd mistakenly found there way into camp, no.
It was Larkpaw, who was becoming increasingly dramatic as she worked to clear the old moss from the Elder's section of the Warrior's den.
Periodically the calico shecat would reappear through the den entrance, more green/grey moss than she was her own dappled coat. Jaws so full of the old bedding that it would leave her mouth sore in the coming days, then she'd go scurrying back in like a rat startled by the light.
Her morning's activities were not brought on by some sudden bout of altruism, nor her admittedly marked fondness of the Clan's elders, rather it was the punishment her mentor had deemed most worthy for her recent... absent-mindedness.
Knowing her mentor as well as she did having trained beneath them for the better part of four moons now, Larkpaw knew that phrasing was the warrior's best attempt at being kind.
It had just been a moment of distraction, a butterfly she'd followed when she had meant to be patrolling the northern borders with her mentor and patrol.
A moment of distractedness that had nearly lead her into the jaws of a badger's den.
The shecat's ears were still echoing with the yowls of her mentor, and her cheek was more than a little bruised by the cuffing she'd received and even that humiliation apparently hadn't been enough.
So here she was, cleaning out the elders nests.
It wasn't quite the life she had dreamed of those moons ago, nestled against the warm curve of her mother's belly, listening to the stories of the Clan's greatest warriors, and imagining what kind of life that might be like. Not quite the heroics the imaginative young shecat had pictured as she sat before Lynxstar, and heard her name announced as Larkpaw for the very first time.
So far apprenticehood had been far too many lessons, scoldings and punishments than it had been bravado and comraderie.
Though Larkpaw wasn't exactly sure where best she could put in that complaint.
If I never see moss in my lifetime again, it will be too soon! She grunts to herself, tail lashing as she kicks out the last of it. Then turns to the pile she'd spent her morning combing the forests for. Halfway done at least. |
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Post by daydreams on Feb 13, 2024 0:24:28 GMT -5
i'll get some starters up for my kitties soon!
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 13, 2024 5:09:23 GMT -5
||Lynx: midlife crisis
Swift: midlife crisis
Dappled: quarter life crisis.
Lark: I f*cking hate moss.
You can't say I'm not diverse.
Starters are up! So sorry it took so long!||
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Post by π
π΄πΌπΏπΎ on Feb 13, 2024 19:33:08 GMT -5
Frostpaw's ears twitched. There had been quite the grunting and groaning coming from the elders and warriors den. She glanced around the camp when her eyes landed on the elders and warriors den. Noticing that it was Larkpaw making such a fuss, she trotted over. There was a decently sized pile of dirty moss outside. Frostpaw guessed that Larkpaw's mentor had assigned her the task of clearing out the the dirty nests. When she saw her poke her head out again, she said to Larkpaw, "Need any help with that?" [ ladylantsov] -------------------- Cloudpaw tilted his head back to get a better look at the blue sky overhead. It seemed like a nice day to him. On days like this, he enjoyed going out on a hunting patrol or simply taking a walk in the forest. He doubted his mentor would let him go out for a stroll though, he was still an apprentice and apprentice duties usually came first. As he sat down with his long, feathery tail covering his paws, his eyes traveled around the camp. There wasn't much going on. Certainly nothing that interested him. [Open] -------------------- Mudflake yawned as she rolled over onto her back. This probably wasn't the best position to be in when expecting kits, but it felt comfy. Her slightly large belly weighed down on her back. She had to admit, it was getting harder to find comfy positions to lay in nowadays. She hadn't quite made it out of the nursery yet today. Her nest had been feeling very warm and cozy later. More so than usual. Mudflake assumed it was probably just her getting closer to kitting, which was still a little bit off. [Open] |
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 15, 2024 4:33:28 GMT -5
LARKPAW π
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ͺ It takes the young shecat a moment to clock that someone had spoken to her at all. So concentrated on her task she was, that and she had a more than insignificant amount of moss in her ears by now. The words strike her, slightly muffled in a way that takes the warrior's apprentice a moment to decipher.
"Huh?" She blinks slowly at the Shecat.
Larkpaw shakes herself out, sending splinters of green scattering across the clearing, moss and loose hair shedding from her fur like multi-coloured fleas, freeing her typically untidy coat from as much of the moss as she could.
The apprentice doesn't give Frostpaw the chance to repeat herself, it seems whatever brain she had left that morning had put together the context clues tenough to catch on to what the shecat had offered. Larkpaw shakes her head briskly. "No, mentor's name won't be pleased if I get out of my punishment by asking for help." That she had learned fairly early on into her apprenticehood.
Begrudging as she was about it.
"Thanks though, Frostpaw, appreciate it," Larkpaw added a little belatedly, manners had never been the shecat's forte, though not out of malice more forgetfulness.
Though claws to her throat and forced to admit it - she might have accepted the offer had Frostpaw's timing been a little better, and the other apprentice had come to her earlier in this Stars-Damned chore.
She finishes patting out the last of the nests she'd been set with tidying up, and stretches. The bones in her back cracking one by one as she reaches each limb out to their extent, a slight purr of satisfaction escaping Larkpaw as she sits straight again, whiskers twitching. "I'm just about done anyway," lake-blue eyes scan the elder's section of the den one last time, considering her work.
Trying to pick out any inconsistencies or missed spots that she might get scolded for later, finding none. The sigh of relief is like the weight of the world has been removed from her shoulders, and the look she turns back upon Frostpaw is a thousand times happier now.
"What are you doing today? Has Deputy's Name given you your patrols yet?" There was as much of a question in what Larkpaw did say as there was in what she didn't. She wanted to get free from the confines of camp, shake the scent of anything moss-related from her system.
And was quite happy to use the younger apprentice as her accomplice.
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Post by π
π΄πΌπΏπΎ on Feb 15, 2024 23:23:48 GMT -5
A hint of guilt swept through the young she-cat. She wished that she would've been able to help instead of letting Larkpaw do it on her own. She had just thought that the grumbling was the elders again. Shrugging the feeling off, she went along with what the other apprentice had been saying. "Hm," Frostpaw thought, "I actually haven't been assigned anything from [Deputy]. That's a little odd..." She was almost always given something to do, considering that she was and apprentice and all. "I don't really know what I'm going to do today. Seeing as I haven't heard from [Deputy] or [Mentor]." |
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Post by πππππ’ on Feb 18, 2024 2:54:38 GMT -5
ββββ-γβ§γ-ββββ
Nightrose with Lynxstar
camp
@ ladylantsov Sleep came easily in the recent moon as Nightrose found herself constantly tired. That was one thing she didn't expect when she finally fell pregnant, was how drowsy she'd be. So the black furred queen slept late and slept frequently, curled up in the nest she shared with her mate in his private den. She wasn't so close to kitting that she felt the need to constantly stay in the nursery, plus she found more comfort at Lynxstar's side, and she knew he liked to keep her close. Thoughts of her mate filled her half-awake mind as she reached out for his warmth only to find it missing. She lifted her head and slowly blinked the sleep from her eyes, realizing that he really wasn't asleep beside her. A small smile pulled at her lips, figuring that he must be watching over the clan he loved so much. With a small grunt, Nightrose rolled over and stood on her paws.
She poked her head out of the den first before wandering into the clearing. Immediately her gaze lifted to the point where she knew her mate to be. Her mate. A soft sigh fell from her lips as she lovingly gazed at the stoic tom perched in his place atop the ravine. Some days Nightrose could hardly believe that they belonged to each other. She'd only been pining after him ever since they were apprentices. More than once she tried to get over her affections for him, but it proved to be useless. All she could do was quietly support him as he followed his ambitions to become leader, and once he achieved that was she shocked when he made his intentions clear to court her. Their romance wasn't quite whirlwind, but once it was obvious how much they cared for one another, becoming mates and starting a family came quickly.
Nightrose carefully climbed up the ravine to join Lynxstar where he laid sprawled, fitting herself comfortably against his side and nuzzling her cheek into his fur, trying to ignore how much the little trek actually winded her.
"Good morning. A bit chilly, isn't it?" Copperhoney could feel shifting beside him as he slowly started to wake, letting out an audible yawn. He nestled closer to Mudflake as she lay on her back and leaned his face close to hers to give her cheek a few sleepy licks. The further along his mate got, the more the golden tom found himself sleeping in the nursery. He just couldn't bear the thought of not being there when Mudflake needed him, and at least he could control where he slept. Lately the warrior seemed so anxious on any patrols he'd been put on, always the first one to return to camp when he was able to.
Fighting the urge to doze off again, Coppeyhoney lifted his head and started to stand. "Breakfast?" He asked plainly, giving Mudflake another affectionate lick before moving his nose close to her swollen belly, checking on their unborn kits. (i also have Yarrow and Beetle open if anyone is interested. might also make a starter for them later) |
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 20, 2024 6:00:21 GMT -5
LYNXSTAR β°ββ°ββ°β Every muscle the tom possessed tensed as he watched her take that first, slightly precarious leap. Previously Lynxstar would hardly have given it a second thought, these were paths the clan had traipsed their entire lives. There was hardly a warrior living who couldn't do it backwards and blindfolded by the time they had earned their full status within the Clan. But Nightrose was pregnant, and that meant suddenly every jagged rock, uneven surface and blade of grass seemed like a possible threat to the little lives she carried.
The logical part of his brain knew there was hardly a safer place for the shecat.
All the same he was poised to leap to her aid and sacrifice each of his 9 lives to save her if the need arose.
Thankfully for the at the best of times overly-protective tom, the shecat managed to make her way to his place of oversight without necessitating a rescue mission.
Though she was notably winded by her efforts.
"The kits will think there's been a major error somewhere along the way if you continue on like that, my love," Lynxstar muses, yet despite his playful words there is something to how he watches the shecat that speaks to something else. A dark gaze tracking her every step as she finds her spot tucked against his muscled form, like he expects her to shatter like cracked ice with one missed-step. "That they're being carried by a squirrel based on the amount of climbing you do." He tries and fails to hide the tone of concern from his voice. These days the leader found himself sounding more like a Queen himself, fretting over the welfare of her kits, than he did the head of a fearsome Clan.
The shecat was carrying his kits, he supposed that gave him some right to be worrisome. As fretsome as a bear brought out of hibernation too early was another question entirely, though.
As Nightrose settles against him and its like the world has been put to rights once more. Her scent - of oak trees standing sentinel by rushing waters, of sweet summer breezes wrapping across open moors, is as familiar to the tom by now as the very earth beneath his broad paws. Lynxstar presses against her, dwarfing her easily as his body coming to curve around hers.
With a thunderous purr, his plumed, grey tail coming to rest on the slight swell of where his bloodline blossomed within. Only recently had movement been noticeable from within, and every chance he got the tom would press close. Eager to feel the life squirming just beneath his touch.
He lets the taste sit on his tongue, settle that half-feral thing in his gut that wanted to kill anything that might pose a threat. "It seems like nature hasn't quite realised we're meant to be in newleaf yet," he agreed. Taking her words as a hint and shuffling himself closer to her, allowing the power of his frame to shelter her smaller form from the cold. LARKPAW π
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ͺ I wonder how many dens Deputy's Name is going to be asked to clean for sleeping in late. The thought was fleeting, but enough to make her whiskers twitch with barely repressed laughter. She had the common sense to keep it to herself, though, for fear her comment might be heard and she'd spend the next moon on nest duty.
It felt like there were eyes everywhere these days.
Larkpaw's gaze travel back to the warrior's den, orange-dappled ears perked forward and straining for any signs of movement within. Admittedly the hour was still early, but not so ridiculously so that it was typical for not much of camp to be up already.
Odd, but frankly the apprentice wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
The young calico pauses a moment more - her mentor had the most remarkable ability to taste exactly when she had mischief planned, and intervene just when she was on the brink of finally doing something fun. Truly a gift from StarClan when it came to this particular apprentice. But only the shuffling of unfamiliar paws and deep voices.
Apparently not an infallible gift.
Whiskers twitching but this time with excitement, Larkpaw turns her head back to her companion, and now intended however unwilling accomplice in all things mischief and fun. "Do you want to come hunting with me?" She asks, plumed tail-tip twitching this way and that. |
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 20, 2024 6:49:54 GMT -5
|| I'm sorry responses took a while, we got some unfortunate news at the weekend.
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 20, 2024 7:03:59 GMT -5
||Just noticed @mothstars has deleted their profile... going to go ahead and hope it wasn't something I said
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Post by π
π΄πΌπΏπΎ on Feb 23, 2024 18:26:15 GMT -5
Mudflake laughed softly. She knew just how much Copperhoney worried about her and was grateful to have such a loving and kind mate. With a small grunt, she rolled back onto her side. "They're fine, dear," she soothed, "If there was something wrong with them, you would be the first to know." She thought for a moment. "Actually, the medicine cat would be," she laughed. Going back to his question she replied, "Breakfast would be nice. Anything is fine with me." Mudflake was relieved that she wouldn't have to get up yet. She'd gained a considerable amount of weight that had made it a little harder to get up, especially in the mornings. [ πππππ’] -------------------- Frostpaw breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been itching to get out of camp for a while and do something useful instead of sitting around. There was only so much one could do within the Clan camp. Nothing exciting to do, that's for sure. "I'd love to go hunting," Frostpaw replied, "We might need to find somebody who can go out with us though." [ ladylantsov] (Sorry for being inactive for a few days. I hope you're doing okay with whatever unfortunate news you may have gotten.) |
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Post by ladylantsov on Feb 25, 2024 5:47:33 GMT -5
LARKPAW π
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ͺ Larkpaw's whiskers twitch in delight when her companion agrees to accompany her. Usually it takes a lot more persuading, and some degree of nagging to get another cat to go along with her schemes ideas.
Her excitement was sky high, but plummets dramatically at Frostpaw's suggestion that they would need to rope someone else to come along with them. If that meant finding a warrior to tag along with them, that made things markedly less fun. Her tail droops with disappointment.
"I mean I'm practically a warrior already," her whiskers twitch, eyes watchful as she makes quite sure no one was around to hear her say those words. Her ears twitch as though in anticipation of the cuffing she could expect if her mentor caught her with those words of bravado on her tongue-tip. What goes unsaid is the fact the leader and her mentor had promised to stave off any notions of warrior-hood until Larkpaw could show she'd matured enough, mentally at least.
It all seemed a load of mousedung to the young apprentice.
And to be frank, a notion that seemed ever out of the reach of her dappled paws.
"And its not like we'll need to go faaaaar." She lets the words roll off her tongue, blinking big, pleading eyes at the younger apprentice. "Just as far as the clearings above the Ravine, we'll be so quick no one will even realise we were gone!" |
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Post by πππππ’ on Feb 27, 2024 2:05:49 GMT -5
(will try to get to replies tonight or tomorrow!)
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