The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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Subject: cousin-to-cousin talk [c] Tue 6 Dec 2022 - 13:32
He could not keep this up.
There were not many challenges Astraeus did not believe he could not ultimately overcome. Some things, aye, were simply impossible. (Defying death- though he managed to keep that thought from surfacing). Some things, though, were not, at first glance, impossible. (Finding his mother- though he managed to keep that thought from surfacing). Yet, in all practicality, they might as well have been. Keeping a low profile in a clearing full of cats from only one Clan, who were constantly trying to discover who had been taken?
Practically impossible.
He did not take that to mean that it could, possibly, be possible, but rather to mean, that, apart from act of the stars themselves, it was not possible. To be found out would be far worse that to out himself. There could not be a better time. SkyClan’s acting leader- she was shattered. Physically, emotionally, mentally- this, he rather thought, gauging her age, must’ve been her first forest-wide tragedy, her first experience with the cycle of hardships that seemed to plague the Clans every few season. Perhaps the floods Lighttail had told him of would count- but SkyClan had harbored ShadowClan. They had not themselves been driven out of their home. It was merely an inconvenience, an oddity: not the sorrow than manifested itself as a physical horror, not the despair that sank teeth into the stoutest of hearts and seemingly dragged all courage and initiative away to be devoured.
Now, however- now, he could see opportunity. It was not, despite what Crimsonflame might think (and maybe something deep within him growled and frothed at the idea of his brother seemingly not forgetting), it was not pure selfishness. No- he was kind, as well as perfectly capable of hunting for himself and a little extra, and he didn’t want to see kits starve. Astraeus was not his father.
With this in mind, he waited until an opportunity arose to catch the grey tabby somewhat alone- not truly alone, no, but at a time when most warriors were hunting and apprentices training and kits and elders and queens sleeping. He’d managed to stay unnoticed so far, by staying on the outskirts and taking advantage of the dull weariness that lingered in so many eyes; but it couldn’t last. He’d have to face it head on- and if he played his cards right, he could get something out of this interaction.
Finally, Astraeus gauged that the time was right. With a swift, purposeful stride, as if he was certainly going somewhere he was supposed to, he padded up to the grey molly (her name was Birdchaser, he’d heard it spoken or even called out above the crowd, but it had taken him a while to retrieve the name from the depths of his memory). A young, young kit crossed his path but didn’t even spare him a second glance- he supposed she must’ve grown up with him lurking about. An amusing thought, that.
Stopping just far enough away from Birdchaser as to be outside paw-swipe range, yet close enough so that their voices wouldn’t carry, he dipped his head respectfully.
“Birdchaser. May I speak with you?”
He wondered what she’d think of him- thick silver tabby fur, warm sympathetic yellow eyes, powerful haunches that one didn’t expect to find on a loner. Perhaps Crimsonflame had even informed her of his existence? No matter- he knew how to look nonthreatening and empathetic, and more than perhaps anything else he knew how to weave a web of words. Hopefully she’d hear him out.
Birdchaser had returned from a hunting patrol not too long ago. It hadn't gone well; the prey that remained was growing thinner and more timid as the seasons grew colder, but many of the little animals had started to disappear. Whether they had disappeared into unseen underground warrens or fled the territory entirely was impossible to say. All she knew was they were fleeing the same fate the Clans were. In a way, she respected and envied the prey animals for that. They were keen and able enough to flee and escape the worst of things, while they had not been so lucky. There was a certain kinship in the situation, too. She understood now how it felt to be the robin, understood now the terror of great paws attempting to close around your ribs.
Now, she sat on the edges of the clearing, relaxing her leg and allowing her thoughts to wander. SkyClan milled quietly around her-- many cats had gone on patrols, or were attempting to catch some rest. The clearing felt hollower now than it already had. The lack of presence made her feel even more on-edge. Even though she knew where those cats were, had directed them on where to go... she couldn't help but wonder if they were going to return. She couldn't afford to hear more Clanmates had gone missing. She may well run to Highstones and batter the Moonstone until it cracked if she did.
The sparsity of the clearing allowed one positive though: it was easier to pick faces out from the crowd. As her head turned, scanning over her Clanmates, she was met with a sleek silver form striding right up to her. The kit that passed him looked unbothered, but Birdchaser knew immediately his face was not a familiar one. Maybe in passing-- she thought she'd seen him in the haze of Fourtrees, before the twolegs' arrival --but she could not register him. His voice was not either, and yet he'd addressed her by name. Caution bunched her muscles and forced her hackles to stiffen as she took in the tom in front of her. There'd been the passing thought that he was someone else's lost Clanmate, but when she breathed in, no clear Clan scent stuck to him. The muddled reek of Fourtrees; somewhat more distinct was SkyClan's own; but he just smelled... woody. If a random loner was inserting himself into SkyClan now--
Birdchaser sighed and bit her tongue. She dipped her head slightly in a similar show of respect before her tired eyes quickly focused again on the tom before her. "You may," she answered slowly. She was dimly conscious of the way that she'd been slouching, even when her muscles tensed, and she cleared her throat as she straightened up, chin lifting and chest swelling. She was supposed to look proud, or at least capable... but even just a few moments of sitting properly made her want to sag again. She managed to hold herself in position though. "Who are you? I know you're not SkyClan. I imagine you have a good reason for coming to us, or straight to me, especially in the midst of... this."
Her eyes were dull, and the way exhaustion lingered in the way she sat upright was clear to the silvery loner. He’d been in that position before himself, trying to show authority and power through the tiredness… but for him, it had been a quick lie, to keep himself alive and afloat. For her- the lie might become her reality, if SkyClan’s actual leader (Briarstar, Crimsonflame had said?) did not return soon. He knew not how long a leader must stay away before the deputy took on the position (if Birdchaser was even deputy; had SkyClan lost both their higher ranks? Was she merely an experienced warrior who had taken on the duties of a deputy for now?)
Astraeus sat down, curling his tail around his paws, trying to show he meant no harm. “My name’s Astraeus.” There was a bit of discomfort, there, at the thought of so-freely giving out his name instead of the alias he’d given Sablestrike- yet with how his most recent conversation with Crimsonflame had gone, if the other tom-cat found Astraeus under an alias, he’d likely attack first and ask questions later. “I do have what I hope you see as a reason to approach. Simply put: I offer my assistance. I do not wish to join your Clan- I enjoy the life of a loner I lead- yet- I do not wish to see kits go hungry. I come from the barren city, and the forest, no matter what season, provides more than enough for my needs. Consider it empathy, or sympathy rather; it would sicken me to be well-fed when others are struggling.” His warm yellow gaze met the green-blue of the grey molly. This was truth- no matter what he got out of it, he truly did not wish to see others starve while he was content. It- it would sicken him- remind him of that creature wearing his father’s pelt.
“I have already been contributing to the fresh-kill piles without drawing undue notice; I approach you now so that none of your, perhaps, over-eager Clanmates see me as a threat. I am not; merely a passing stranger with no desire for unnecessary suffering.” Finished, Astraeus tilted his head ever-so-slightly to the side. He was, perhaps, slightly better fed than most of the SkyClanners, and he was confident that he could easily continue to provide for himself. Compared to the barren city in the midst of the Season of Silent Snows, the forest was a bounty ready for the taking. SkyClan had their weak, injured, young and elderly who could not hunt- one of the foremost of his reasons not to join a Clan himself; yet now, when he was doing well… it made him sick to think of following his father’s path of selfish self-sufficency.
Astraeus told the truth. Perhaps, some memory of himself and his siblings being taught to hunt when they were barely four moons… they simply had to. Only two, three cats to provide for so many kittens… he knew what it was like to go hungry. No kits should have to.
The silvery tom sat down, tail curling loosely over his paws. Birdchaser made the effort to sit even straighter against his stare. There was an acuteness to his golden eyes that made her pelt itch. There was a moment where she wanted to convince herself he was a Clan cat, and he'd just gotten displaced in the tumult. If that was the case, she would be willing to shelter him and return him to his family. But as she was wondering, he introduced himself as Astraeus. Birdchaser didn't bother to stop her ears from lowering, or her whiskers from twitching with doubt when he went on about assistance. What would a loner want with us that isn't in your own self-interest? Though she couldn't mask the physical signs of displeasure, she could at least keep herself from hissing.
Starving kits... Birdchaser sighed and turned her head, looking over the clearing. The air was getting colder by the day; warriors were dying or being taken; and the forest itself had become a danger, twolegs lurking, it seemed, behind every tree. Her tail beat the ground once, a solid thump to assist her brooding look. It was a sobering thought, one her tired mind had not yet reached. If this season was as harsh as she'd heard the last leaf-bare had been, SkyClan was likely to suffer, even with all paws working to keep them fed. Still...
"It hurts our pride that you think we can't fend for ourselves." Her voice was slow as she turned back toward Astraeus. "If a whole Clan is starving, what will one loner do to combat that? If a band of well-trained warriors and apprentices can't keep our bellies, how would you? Unless you're planning on hunting foxes or fabled wolves. That said," Birdchaser tilted her head, staring him down through now-narrowed eyes. Memories of her deputy ceremony came to mind, of Briarstar's faith in her– for the both of them to change SkyClan for the better. SkyClan was proud, her family especially among them, but not always for the best. She was not going to let her family suffer for her own pride, even if her stomach was knotting at the thought of agreeing. "I can't give you allowance to hunt the woods around us– they're ThunderClans, not ours –but I can at least assure you that you won't be harmed by SkyClan's claws. If you feel the need to bring us extra mice, wait outside the hollow. Someone will fetch them from you and thank you for your... services. As I'll thank you now." Slowly, Birdchaser bowed her head to Astraeus again, a deeper nod than the simple greeting she had offered him on approach.
Silently, in that half-bent position, she prayed this would not turn to bite her.
Right. Pride. Long moons of practice kept the tom’s face still. Pride. What a thing. Ptcha. He had possessed that, once, before the city had stripped it all away and left a cat who would stop at nothing to keep himself alive. Pride was foolishness. It was an obstacle to prudence and good sense. It hurt their pride? Oh, what a calamity- a disaster- oh, shades below, whatever shall we do without our pride? Wasn’t pride more a vice than a virtue? “Mayhaps not much, yet hopefully enough.” Hunting foxes- bah. He’d be more likely to scramble up a tree, but Birdchaser didn’t need to know that. Her gaze- green and blue and yellow- stared him down, yet he had the distinct feeling that, in this case, his experience would triumph. She had not yet the power of the stars behind her- best to take advantage of that while it lasted, lest those meddling, petty ancestors grant her perception beyond what he could take.
Yet she agreed.
Astraeus kept a smile from forming- that would just look suspicious, wouldn’t it- and instead bowed his head as well, a hint of gratitude in his warm yellow eyes. “I hope my services can be of use to you and your Clan,” he mewed, rising to his paws. “May you find good hunting and shelter when you sleep.” The silvery tom turned to leave, mind whirling. He’d actually done it. Good- this would definitely put him in SkyClan’s good graces… and, he thought to himself, glancing out at the crowd, it… it made him feel better. It took away some twisting guilt that he hadn’t been fond of. He was doing well… so who was he to deny others the generosity which had kept him alive?
