back in my day.. [open]

Never, in all of his many seasons, had Carpsplash seen something as outrageous as Skyclan cats stuffed into their camp. The elder tom had never shied away from making his opinions known. Whatever measures of control of his own tongue he had once held, had disappeared with retirement into the elder's den. Ivystar was far kinder than the previous leader from which she had taken her namesake. She was a strong and respectable leader but this was absolutely outrageous. The tom's tabby fur had given way to gray hues several seasons ago, making his coat a mix of pale chestnut and light grays. As he finally broke from the elder's den, a scowl was writ across his features as he looked into the overcrowded camp. Skyclan cat's would get little more than a glare from the old warrior.

He'd resigned to leave his nest as little as possible in protest. But it was the most pleasant of days and the reek of another clan's cats was not going to deny him such a pleasure as warming his old bones. Carpsplash settled down underneath broad rays of sunlight. His eyes were half-closed as he sank into a half-contented state. Even something as perfect as this sun high was fractured by their current state. The clan had also suffered from the drying river, which had just begun to return. He longed for a fresh, plump fish; it was better than any land creature that he had ever encountered. Slitted eyes regarded the camp as he waited for some cat to approach, preferably one with some prey.

ooc; younger cats are preferred, can be skyclan or riverclan, but ye old man wishes to tell stories to the youths.

Willowpaw had just returned from a hunting trip, carrying prey. Specifically, a small bird. Birds were apparently quite easy to hunt in RiverClan territory as well. She was just about to drop it off at the Fresh-Kill pile when she spotted someone in the distance.

An older cat was sitting there, eyes half-closed. No matter ow long Willowpaw thought, she could not recall if she had talked to him before.

Thus, she approached him, still carrying her bird. Maybe the other cat would want some food or something. If not, she could go drop it off later, no biggie.

"Hey there!" Se greeted Carpsplash. "My name's Willowpaw. What's yours?"

---

Shimmerpaw glanced over at where an Elder-she couldn't remember his name-sat. Much to her surprise, one of the SkyClan Apprentices-who had introduced herself as Willowpaw previously-was trying to talk to him.

Knowing Carpsplash may not take well to Willowpaw, Shimmerpaw made her way over as well, opting not to say anything but deciding to make sure a fight doesn't start.

Over the last moon, Snowflight had found it harder to outright resent SkyClan for taking up residence in his home. He had to admit (if only to himself and Beecloud) that having cats familiar with land hunting around had been useful—albeit only because the river was gone. Still, he’d hung onto what he considered a healthy suspicion. Though some of them were willing to earn their nests through patrols and protection (and had earned some respect from Snowflight along with it), they remained a drain on RiverClan’s herb and prey stores. It was one thing to let them stay through greenleaf; however, the leaves had begun to change. Leaf-fall was rolling in, and leaf-bare after it. Of course, this was Ivystar’s decision in the end, and a leader’s word was law…but Snowflight wondered.

As he padded into camp, empty-pawed after what felt like a season of chasing every fluffy tail he’d seen in the Beech Copse, he spotted Carpsplash sunning himself. Two apprentices, Shimmerpaw and a SkyClanner, had gathered nearby. The SkyClanner clutched a freshly killed bird in her mouth—a peace offering, maybe. Privately, Snowflight thought she’d have better luck with fish. Carpsplash had been one of RiverClan’s prickliest cats long before SkyClan had settled in. Sneaking a lizard from the fresh-kill pile (it wasn’t fish, but at least it wasn’t furry), the white-furred tom hurried to join the cluster of cats.

The tail-less elder's eyes slid open with the most cross expression written over his features. Dulled senses held of on preparing him to be met with a Skyclan cat, something that caused him to blink in surprise. Moons ago, he wouldn't have even needed to open his eyes. That thought alone stalled whatever displeased retort would have crossed from his tongue. A bird was presented by this young she-cat. Carpsplash's eyes crossed at the thought of too many feathers. Nonetheless, he caught the gaze of Shimmerpaw, one of the clan's own protégés. A malcontented grumbled left his maw as he flashed out a paw to draw the bird closer, fully intending to not eat it, "Carpsplash, kit. Now this better be for me or you have no business pestering another clan's elders."

It wasn't until he started speaking that his stomach rumbled and he realized how hungry he truly was. Eyes darted towards the prey, then towards the apprentices gathered. The elder's claws snagged some of the delicate feathers but did little to stir them from their place on it's carcass. Another grunt and he pushed it back with a silent order to pull it apart. Hardly a moment passed before Snowflight joined them. Thankfully, the bright white warrior managed to bring along a decent sized lizard. Satisfaction crossed his maw; it wasn't fish but the long-lived and dusty-pelted tom had always held a soft spot for the flavor of lizard. Carpsplash had grown up with tradition running through his pelt and that clinging to customs was what ingrained the sharing of prey between clanmates into his thick skull. A twist of his head beckoned Snowflight closer.

"Share with me, Snowflight. You're fat enough, clearly I'm withering away with the river dried up." Gaze turned to Willowpaw, "I'm sure even with all this even Skyclan had managed to fatten up their honored warriors. I swear to Starclan, even Lichenmask used to bring Freshkill to his elders. I knew he was Starclan-ordained the moment he caught the fattest fish I'd ever seen." Running his mouth like always, Carpsplash finally stopped to looked over the three cats who'd gathered around them, "I have plenty of stories of Lichenmask back when he was a kit. Even if he turned the sun red, he was a cat just like you and me." The prying gaze met their eyes, silently pleading for them to ask for the many tales that ran through his head; seasons of Riverclan history. Regardless of the prying inquiries, or lack thereof, the old tom was fully prepared to share his weathered stories.

To Snowflight’s surprise, Carpsplash tugged the bird closer. However, after a few moments of pawing at its feathers without removing a single one, he shoved it back toward Shimmerpaw and the SkyClanner. Then his gaze settled on Snowflight, who involuntarily straightened up, swaying tail going still behind him. Thankfully, judging by the approval apparent on his face, Carpsplash seemed grateful to have something fur- and feather-less.

…Then he opened his mouth. Stung, Snowflight tightened his grip on the lizard—half because he was rethinking his decision to give it away, half because a sharp retort had risen in his throat like bile, and in present company especially, he couldn’t risk losing an argument. As Carpsplash’s attention turned to the SkyClanner, he laid the lizard at the older cat’s paws, wordlessly offering Carpsplash the first bite, then stepped back to run his tongue over one of his forelegs. It helped soothe his pride, at least.

Finally, Carpsplash paused and looked around at all three of them. Being a fairly well-behaved apprentice, Snowflight hadn’t spent much time with the elders, but that look combined with those words could only lead to one thing: they were in for a history lesson. He’d heard one or two stories about Lichenmask during his kithood; they’d been as fantastical and fascinating as any other nursery tales…until the Righteous Few’s first round of murders had sapped the excitement right out of them, to say nothing about everything that’d happened after. Any cat StarClan ordained was a cat worth staying away from (Ivystar and Spiderquill excepted, of course). Still, when his options were listening to some old stories (and eating) or spending his day racing water voles, the better choice was clear. “He grew up here, right?” Snowflight settled down, tucking his legs beneath him, and angled his ear toward Carpsplash.