A Wild Goat Appeared! [closed for Ice~]

Goatpaw had been a wandering loner for a while now—most of her WindClan scent had been washed away by variant, musty emanations. She was as large and mature as a warrior, her shaggy white pelt acrid to groom. She stepped tentatively into the territory (currently unbeknownst to her), her gold-flecked, rosy hubs scanning the ground. It was blanketed with frost, which crackled beneath her paws as she walked. No one was there. How can this be the home I once remembered? wondered Goatpaw despairingly, truly believing, if not for sure, that this must be the place. Open moorland greeted her here. Clouds overlaid the sun, causing a shadow to span across the landscape. Goatpaw sighed shakily, seeing her breath come out in a misty, waxen puff. "Hello?" she called, but she could barely seem to hear her own voice. The former WindClan apprentice shivered, both from the cold, and from forboding, as she skirted clumps of hazel. Her next words came out even quieter. "Anyone? WindClan?" she continued, hoping that she had gotten the title of her previous moor-laden Clanmates correct, and if they were even present. Her ears rang uncomfortably. She squinted her eyes, her thin pelt able to bear the freezing algor for not much longer. She searched far and wide, but her spirits fell. No cat would answer her wailing calls and lamentations. Like a lost kit, alone in the woods, she wandered as a vagabond for heartbeats that felt like hours.
Moons, even. Goatpaw saw a gnarled tree, sorrel bark laced with patterns. She craned her neck, sniffing its base. Her eyes widened with fruition as she faintly recognized the scent. Her maw gaped. She couldn't believe it.
WindClan!
Goatpaw wracked her brain, trying to recall the grey-and-white tom she had met in her dream not-so-long-ago, and whom she loved so dearly. Her tail swished amongst fronds of verdure and greenery. The name finally entered the corridors of her expansive mind. She let a smile curl on her muzzle at the very thought. I have to do this, she began to cerebrate. Smokepelt is waiting for me. Goatpaw rose to her paws, and let out a yowl of hope and adoration, her eyes alight.

"Smokepelt!"

Padding away from the camp, Smokepelt made his way out onto the moor, the chilly air sending a shiver down his spine. Somewhat gloomy clouds blanketed the sky and frost covered the ground, crunching underneath his white paws. With Leafbare coming to a slow end, the clan was starting to recover from the harsh weather, but even so, prey was still somewhat scarce and he was determined to feed them, even if hunting took all day.

Walking in silence, he'd decided to go hunting on his own, his mind having only been on one thing for the past few sunrises. Goatpaw.

Ever since he'd met her in his dream, his regularly occurring nightmares had ceased to consume his sleep and for the first time in a long while, he felt... alive. He wasn't able to forget about her sweet and innocent face, her dark orange eyes that glowed like the sun, everything about her was mystifying to the tom and although he'd thought that they'd only been friends in the past, he was starting to realize how much he really cared for her.

Opening his crooked jaw, the tom scented the air for any sign of prey, but instead, the midday breeze blew a scent towards him that sent his fur standing on edge. It was an odd smell, not like one of a rabbit, but somehow... he was recognized it. Looking towards the direction in which the scent had come from, a small white blob stood on a slightly raised part of the moorland. It was obviously a cat's form and narrowing his eyes, he tried to decipher who it was. There was only one he knew that had a white pelt like that.

"Goatpaw?" he breathed, recognizing the she-cat's white pelt even from a distance. Without a second thought, Smokepelt was racing towards the apprentice, joy filling his heart so much that he felt like he could fly. Since they'd met in their dreams, he never thought she meant what she said about returning, but she was actually coming back!

Streaking across the moor, he couldn't help but let out a chuckle. What were the chances of him running into her while on was on a random patrol. Maybe it was meant to be, Smokepelt thought to himself. Well, whether it was fate or luck, he couldn't have been more greatful for this happening. Of course there was the possibility of Ashstar not letting her back into WindClan, but he doubted that would be the case.

The layer of clouds that filled the sky seemed to spread apart as if a cat was moving them with its paws and the chilly breeze died down so that it was barely noticeable. The tom's dark grey pelt that had been groomed this morning shimmered against the rare rays of sunlight and the sudden burst good weather warmed his soul.

After a few moments of running through an area of short grass, he was close enough to fully be able to recognize the cat called Goatpaw. She definitely needed her warrior name by now with her being grown up and looking pretty different then when he'd last seen her face to face. "Goatpaw!" the deputy yowled, a wide grin across his muzzle.

Skidding to a halt in front of the she-cat and breathing heavily, Smokepelt met her hazel gaze and for a couple moments, there was silence. Nothing else, from the whispering moorland breeze to the high pitched songs of birds, nothing else existed except him and Goatpaw. After all this time, she was here with him, back home where she belonged.

"Oh Goatpaw, how I've missed you," the grey and white tom whispered softly, nudging her cheek with his muzzle and a purred erupted from deep in his throat. Taking a step forward, their pelts brushed together. "I'm never letting you go again," he purred, embracing her strange, yet familiarly sweet and calming scent.

She had returned to him and he was the happiest tom alive.

Goatpaw let out a somber sigh, thinking that no one would come. No matter how much heart she had put into that cry, this couldn't be WindClan. Then what was that scent? wondered Goatpaw, recoiling back to her previous conclusion. Then, soft pawsteps could be heard. Goatpaw looked up, her watches glinting. She could see a hefty, stalwart form racing towards her. She stretched out her neck, the fur on her folded ears being buffeted by the waning breeze. She could feel a vaguely familiar spoor approach her, and she stepped forwards eagerly. Her mind swam, and she saw him.

Goatpaw felt like scudding over the thin brambles that peeked out of the earth, to join Smokepelt. And this is exactly what she did. She converged with the grey-and-white deputy, no hesitation stifling her steps. She touched her muzzle to his neck, and then looked into his sweet, amber eyes. "Smokepelt?" she asked considerately. "Smokepelt, is that really you?" Goatpaw began to purr, assured by her own conscience that indeed it was—this was no dream. As their pelts brushed, she found that she had never felt safer in her life.

She saw the scar, dragged over his jaw. She looked bewildered and positively addled. "What happened?" she gasped. No such cicatrice struck her memory. This must be new! Was it a fox, or worse—a fox-hearted cat? Worry clouded her formerly panegyric, gloaming orbs. She was almost as tall as Smokepelt, but her frame was gangly from her endeavours. Her white pelt hung with a ghostly hue from her bones. She shook her head suddenly. "Never you mind... I'm home, right?" asked Goatpaw hopefully, drinking in his wholesome scent.

Still nudging her side with his head wrapped around her neck, Smokepelt never wanted this moment to end. Ever since she'd left, the deputy hadn't really understood why she'd left and although part of him wondered why he wasn't mad at her, he couldn't bring himself to be the slightest bit angry towards her. Ever cat had a reason to their ways, and apparently, she had a reason to leave, one in which he wasn't going to argue about, for now at least.

After a moment of their silent yet wonderful embrace, he looked down to the she-cat who was staring up at him with her beautiful amber eyes. "The one and only," he replied in his usual soft tone, a smile on muzzle and tail flicking back and forth with the breeze. Goatpaw was actually here, standing in front of him. She'd returned safely and soundly to her rightful home, and although he didn't want to admit it, this moment felt almost like a heavenly dream, which made it hard for him to wrap his head around.

It pained him to see the worry suddenly grow in her expression and opening his mouth to speak, he quickly shut it when she went on. Good, it wasn't like he was in the mood to talk about what happened to his jaw, not now anyway. Besides, she didn't need to know about the tension between WindClan and RiverClan on her first day back.

Looking from the moor and back to Goatpaw, the grey and white tom leaned forward and nudged her cheek against his. "Yes, you're back home," he mewed and then looked to his paws. "Promise me you'll never leave again," Smokepelt started softly and then lifted his head so that their eyes met once more, a twinge of sadness in his. Before he poured his heart and soul onto this she-cat (though he probably would anyway), he needed her word. "Promise?" he added, a little more sternly than before.

Goatpaw purred, at his cheek abrading hers. She could barely hear his stern words over the bombinating in her own throat. The white she-cat then looked up at the WindClan deputy, his words echoing in her ears. "Promise," she mewed softly, pressing against his chest lovingly. Her eyes stared into his. "I promise." Goatpaw smiled faintly. She fathomed that this was a difficult promise to make, with her concern about her Clanmates, but she would never leave.

Not with Smokepelt here.

Upon her reply, Smokepelt leaned forward and nudged her cheek once more, a deep purr emitting from his throat. StarClan had actually answered his prayers and consumed by joy, he didn't want this moment to end. he would've gladly considered the two of them just staying here on the open moor forever, but unfortunately, that wasn't an option. He had a clan, a family, a duty to return to and he wasn't going to throw everything away, even if it meant eternal happiness.

Taking a step back, he looked back into her amber eyes, a soft smile on his white and grey muzzle. "Well, how about we get you back to camp, I'm sure Ashstar will be surprised to see that you've returned," he mewed, flicking his tail in the direction of camp and hoping that the clan would be able to appropriately cope with Goatpaw's return. He knew Ashstar would welcome her with open paws, but his clanmates... they were a whole other story.

Goatpaw tottered after Smokepelt, gaze thoughtful. "I guess I remember Ashstar..." she murmured. She could feel the peaty moors welcoming her, bracts of grass entwining around her. "I think she was my mentor." Goatpaw looked up at Smokepelt, a glow in her beautiful, dusty rose eyes. She leapt onto a log, batting at stray offshoots like an apprentice on their first training session. She rolled off, onto the frost-coated ground. She continued to gait after Smokepelt, trusting that this was the direction of camp. Her memories were rather foggy, as you can imagine. She felt safe beside the deputy, but a disdainful question hatched in her heart—I might not be accepted by my Clanmates, right? Goatpaw studied her paws for a moment, continuing to lope beside Smokepelt. "I trust you had an ample life without me?" asked Goatpaw politely. She wanted no sign of affection between her and the grey-and-white tom beside her to show to the felines at WindClan's camp.

Padding alongside Goatpaw so that their pelts brushed, the taller tom softly purred as they made their way to camp and looked to her when she mentioned something about Ashstar being her mentor. Trying to recall his mother's previous apprentices, he couldn't quite remember, but if she thought the leader had been her mentor, then that was fine by him.

Looking to the path ahead of them, Smokepelt was in no rush to return back to his clanmates and walked at a slightly slower pace than usual, hoping to cherish every moment he had with her. Perking his ears, he turned back to Goatpaw and tilted his head in a curious sort of way when she asked if he'd had an ample life with out her. He wouldn't say life had been ample, and he'd always missed her, but with all the tension between clans, thinking about the she-cat who disappeared had been pushed to the back of his mind, well, that was, until he'd met her in his dream. After that, all he was able to think about was the white she-cat and now that he thought about it, he hoped that he hadn't been looking too distracted lately.

"Let's just say... life has been pretty stressful lately," he replied with his usual shy sort of smile. There was so much that he wanted to tell her, and some of it he probably should've told her here and now, but for some reason, he didn't want to. Maybe because it might ruin the mood, telling her that he had a mate and a handful of kits. Letting out a soft sigh, the two cats continued towards the WindClan camp, growing closer and closer with each step, and a midday breeze blew his clan's scent towards them which told him that they were pretty close to the camp.

Slowing his pace to a stop, the lean, grey and white deputy stood where he was and looked to Goatpaw. "Ready?" he asked and leaned forward, affectionately nudging her cheek with his muzzle. In a few moments, him and Goatpaw would enter the bustling camp and only StarClan knew what would happen. Hopefully they would accept the white she-cat...

OOC: Alright, after maybe one or two more posts here, I'll make the next topic where Smoke brings Goat into the camp.
(no need to reply to this, I just wanted to let ya know. PM me if you have any questions and/or specifics that need to be discussed)

Goatpaw smiled in turn as Smokepelt, but it trembled on her maw as he told her that it had been... stressful. "Wh-What? You're fine, right?" she asked rapidly and uptight. She brushed his neck with her muzzle. "You've got a good life... I know you do." Goatpaw's eyes gleamed, as if she knew about Hazefur and Smokepelt's relationship and kits. She nipped a tendon of white fur on her forearm nervously, then looked up at Smokepelt as she heard the grey-and-white tom's voice.

She stood at attention with his playful nudge, and wriggled her haunches. "Ready," she repeated firmly. Her tone was barbed with confidence, but a hint of worry filed into her orbs. An unprecedented hostile arrival would dilapidate her aplomb in herself. She restrained a sigh, and then shot away, smiling after Smokepelt.

She felt the grass brush her, and an oddly familiar scent collide with her scent glands. She giggled, her body coiling to bat at Smokepelt's muzzle when the WindClan deputy caught up to her. Her teeth glinted in the sunlight. Her ears perked, she leapt over the rocks that jutted faintly out of the earth, her quarry clear in her mind: I will prove myself. Goatpaw had struggled against so many things when she was a loner, and now, she'd finally have a proper home. Hopefully.