[Mythz]

Ends September 1st at CS Rollover [31st->1st]

thanks to the stars discord for helping me with these kiddos!!
you may enter for one or both, and may win both or only one.

#3701 - what is this cat's themesong?
what is this cat's themesong? why? draw it, show it, write it - let me understand how the themesong encompasses them!
*please only choose one song

#3702 - what lyrics best describe this cat?
what lyrics best describe this cat? why? tell me a story involving the lyrics, write me a poem, draw something - just show me how these lyrics relate to the cat!
*this can be from one song or multiple!

Code: Select all

[b]#3701 [/b]
[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Cat Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Rank:[/b]
[b]Clan:[/b] (Please link)
[b]Age:[/b] (1 year or above)
[b]Themesong:[/b]
[b]Extras:[/b]

Code: Select all

[b]#3702[/b]
[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Cat Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Rank:[/b]
[b]Clan:[/b] (Please link)
[b]Age:[/b] (1 year or above)
[b]Lyrics:[/b]
[b]Extras:[/b]

x
#3701
Name:
Gender:
Rank:
Clan:
Description: black-sage [black-red] ticked torbie with low white
Age:
Edits: [nr] expression, companion [stick bug nymph], accessories
[c] fangs, eye shape, whiskers, sclera
[uc] mid fur
[r] tall ears, folded ears, bobbed tail, unnatural colouring
Owner:

x
#3702
Name:
Gender:
Rank:
Clan:
Description: sage-red [black-red] spotted torbie with low white
Age:
Edits: [nr] expression, companion [leaf bug nymph], accessories
[c] fangs, eye shape, whiskers
[uc] mid fur, round ears
[r] folded ears, curled tail, unnatural colouring
Owner:

[feverrr]

#3702
Username: feverrr
Cat Name:
Gender:
Rank:
Clan: (Please link)
Age: (1 year or above)
Lyrics:
Extras:

mark

[crexmii]

#3701
Username: crexmii
Cat Name: sycamore
Gender: female
Rank: apprentice
Clan: softclan
Age: 9 moons
Themesong: neath the grove is a heart — yaelokre
Extras: in my opinion, this song seems to represent change and it suits sycamore perfectly. as a kit, sycamore had always worried about growing up. she didn’t want anything to change between her and her littermate, sequoia. she had learnt to enjoy the little things in life, such as the ever-changing patterns of the stars in the ether, or the beautiful colours all around the land of dreams.

everything had been alright until they became apprentices. sequoia had started to show signs of a blessing from the gods. sycamore was an observant young molly, she’d seen the way one or two flowers seemed to bloom under sequoia’s paws whenever she walked.

this ultimately added to sycamore’s stress, as being found with a blessing was asking to be kicked out of the clan — the leader violetstar had been allegedly attacked by a blessed cat and was now very paranoid of any felines with powers in softclan. so, doing what a good sister would do, she kept sequoia’s secret.

until she noticed that sequoia started to have thoughts of leaving, and found out she was going to join a group that worshipped the newly born god aerin. they called themselves “the believers.” sycamore had known from stories that they were simply a cult who tried to convince others that they weren’t, and she tries to warn sequoia. i think the lyrics “foolish dreamer, be awakened, do not walk to where you were, to where you’re staring,” really suit sycamore here.

as time passed, the worst happened and sycamore’s life began to fall apart. sequoia had left, and as sycamore had tried to stop her when she’d snuck away in the dead of night, her own sister had turned against her.

she got carried away and summoned a barricade of trees, ultimately blocking sycamore from following her, and creating a dead end where the path to the believers’ camp once led. all those years, she’d thought they were the closest littermates could be. until that cursed aerin whispered in her ears and manipulated her, convinced her to leave.

that night haunted her and caused her to become a joyless, tired molly. she hated her warrior ceremony, every moment of it. sequoia should’ve been here with her. in fact, she refused to take on a warrior name and simply asked to be known as “sycamore.”

as upsetting as sequoia’s departure was, after many moons, sycamore finally learnt to move on, and how much better it felt than holding on to the guilt and letting it drag her down. sycamore healed and learnt that wherever her sibling was now, it wasn’t sycamore’s fault for trying harder to stop her.

it was alright now. while the hole in her chest still ached painfully, time would pass, seasons would change, and spring would come again, and finally bloom once more in her heart after the dreary winter.

#3702
Username: crexmii
Cat Name: sequoia
Gender: female
Rank: blessed
Clan: softclan
Age: 9 moons
Lyrics: ”and the hound is humming you
a lie, a lullaby “
song :: and the hound by yaelokre


Extras:
they promised me beautiful things.
they whispered to me, beckoning, convincing me that i could help.
i had a purpose, and it was to grow. to grow the plants, coax them out of their impenetrable seed coats, to let them shoot and absorb the sunlight.
they told me i could, i would save the world.

she’d first met them when she was out hunting for the clan. she’d sworn she saw a white tail poke out from amongst the trees, hiding from her. she’d called to them, but there had been no reply, until she’d heard their voice in her head, drowning out the surrounding noises of birdsong and the wind.

and now, their voice was the only thing she could hear at all.

her white paws thrummed against the ground. a vine slowly poked out of the soil, revealing itself, no longer in the subterranean world. she subconsciously dug her claws into the earth. it hurt. when she thought as hard as she could, pleaded for the plants to grow, they never responded.

sometimes it didn’t feel like fae had blessed her. really, most of the time it felt like she’d been cursed.

today, she was alone on a solo patrol, “out hunting.” really, she was trying to help aerin. panting, sequoia sighed. she was too exhausted, didn’t have any more strength in her. she’d tried so many times, really tried, but she could always only get one plant to emerge from the ground.

“sorry, aerin. i..i don’t think i can grow any more plants, just that one. i suck, i know.”
their soothing voice whispered in her head once again. it was like the sound of the ocean’s gentle waves heard through a seashell, the morning song of the hidden birds, the sound of silver faerie bells tinkling in the breeze. waves, bells and birdsong all at once. in sequoia’s opinion, the three most calming things in the world.

it’s alright, little sapling. we all start out somewhere. i believe in you, you’ll eventually grow strong enough to eliminate the voidlurkers.
their words made sequoia light up. they believed in her…a divine angel from the heavens, they believed in her, sequoia, an apprentice mistakenly blessed by the goddess of life.

“oh, and, aerin? i’ve thought about your offer. and…i think you’re right. i really will be better amongst other cats who want to get rid of the void. i’ll join the believers.” there was a weird ringing in her ears as she said it, and her heart didn’t feel right, but sequoia shrugged it off. she was excited, after all.

excellent. you can meet up by the anemoic burrows three midnights from now.
sequoia didn’t know why, but whenever aerin spoke to her, she felt all light and happy. she really had been lucky to meet them last moon. their whispering in her head was calming, not at all jarring and invasive. aerin was welcome to speak to her whenever. they were like a best friend to her.

however, whenever she spoke to them, it felt like her ears were filled with water. she could barely hear others while she was conversing with the angel. it was odd, yes, but it was probably nothing, like most things sequoia noticed in her life.

—————————

three midnights from now. it was time. examining the ground extra carefully so she didn’t accidentally step on a twig and wake the whole clan up, sequoia padded into the night, slinking through the shadows of the forest, concealed. her pelt, thankfully was the colour of the forest floor, so she blended in perfectly. no warrior would notice any imperfections to the canvas of the dark forest.

as she padded through the trees, a shadow flashed, flickered, danced in the corners of her sage-green eyes. she whipped her head around and saw the dark shape of a feline slinking behind the distant trees.

“who’s there?” she hissed, claws sliding out. if someone had caught her, she needed to run.

“sequoia, stop!” an all too familiar voice cried. the unmistakable cry of her sister.

sequoia’s heart sank until it reached the seabed.

“sycamore?! what are you doing here?” sequoia stepped back, sheathing her claws. “i’m— i’m just taking a midnight walk, you didn’t have to follow me!” sycamore padded forward, while her sister stood there, frozen, torn between her littermate and aerin.

her sister was so close to her now, their noses almost touched.
a shadow flickered across her face. “no. it’s okay, you don’t need to lie. i know where you’re going. you’re going to join the believers, aren’t you?” sycamore whispered, barely audible, as soft and silent as the night itself.

the tortoiseshell stepped back, nearly tripping over a stray twig. it crunched and snapped in two under her paw, interrupting the silence. “h-how did you know?” sequoia cried. she didn’t know how sycamore knew. surely she…she wasn’t speaking to aerin too, right?

“i can tell. remember? tulipspeck told us as kits that the believers camped in the northwest, near the anemoic burrows. that way,” sycamore gestured, “is the long path to the anemoic burrows.”

sequoia shivered. she’d forgotten how observant the ticked tabby was.
“..why?! why would you want to join them?” sycamore cried, digging her claws into the grass. “aerin or whoever the god they worship is LYING. TO. YOU!”

“no! i don’t know what rubbish tulipspeck has told you, but you’re not going to feed it to me!” sequoia spat. “they promised me. they promised me i could save the world from the void. maybe fae really has blessed me for a…purpose! to eliminate, to eradicate the voidlurkers.”

“they’re a cult leader! ALL. THEY. WANT. is to recruit new members. don’t listen to their lies, please. you’ll become brainwashed just like the rest of the believers.” sycamore cried, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“please. i can’t lose you. you’re clearly a pawn, expendable in their eyes. they’ll send you to drive the voidlurkers away and…you’lll become one of them.” she choked. “i can’t let that happen to you, not to any cat, definitely not my sister.”

sequoia’s head spun. everything was a different shade of red as rage washed over her, as it engulfed her. “no. no!” she shrieked. “STOP LYING!” she growled, baring her teeth. “you’re just like the grown ups, aren’t you! trying to CONVINCE ME AND GUILT-TRIP ME to come back to softclan!”

and the hound

all of a sudden, the tortie felt something slam into her hard. her head reeled, she saw stars as her vision blurred. the molly was unable to process what happened next as a barrier of birch trees erupted from the ground in front of her, separating her and her sister.

w..what? i made multiple plants…trees grow at once! aerin, are you proud?
were her only thoughts as she mindlessly and blindly ran through the forest in the other direction, away from her sister, never looking back.



she didn’t know what happened next, only that the sound of aerin’s voice echoed in her ears. yes, little sprout. i’m so proud of you.

their words were like a siren song. she craved and longed for more. she was addicted to it, a beautiful melody she needed to listen to every minute of her life.

humming you a lie,

as she awoke, she was surrounded by many other felines, clustered around her.

wait.
where was she?

“a new member!” a black tabby squealed excitedly. “this is great! i guess you want to drive out the void too, right, kiddo?”

they told me to come here.

“yeah. aerin whispered to me…they told me to come here..”
she…she didn’t mean to say that, did she?

take a step forward. their voice seemed to echo in her eardrums, in every part of her body.

sequoia felt her paws move by themselves. her sage green eyes stared at her them, transfixed in horror, as she attempted to open her mouth, but the apprentice could not scream.

it almost felt like… she was no longer in control of her body.
and somehow, she knew that aerin had done something to her.

as the believers clustered around her and welcomed her, performing a special ceremony to make her a full member, all sequoia could think about was the fact that aerin lied.

they lied. they’d lied to her face, hypnotised her. and all because she was too naive to believe sycamore.

yet a song rang in her ears, wormed its way into her head, and sequoia felt herself getting…sleepier.
and sleepier.

“sheesh. she must have been really tired, to fall asleep immediately after our ceremony. i wonder where she came from?”

—————————

who was she talking to again…? earlier that night?
everything…all her memories felt weird and fuzzy. sequoia saw the blurry brown shape of a cat, yet when her eyes landed on their face, she couldn’t pinpoint who they were, and it faded away gradually until she remembered nothing.

periwinkle flashes and miniature fireworks went off in front of sequoia.
as she walked, tiny flowers bloomed under her paws, and all she could hear now was aerin’s lullaby.

everything was fine.

[b]a lullaby.[b]

bonus piece

—————————

[Archaeopteryx.]

mark!!

[Mercuré]

mark!

[changeling.]

#3701
Username: honeyfinnz
Cat Name: raina robin-song
Gender: agender [she/her]
Rank: meovrra
Clan: hsiin’al
Age: 17
Themesong:
the yawning grave by lord huron
Extras:
wip!

#3702
Username: honeyfinnz
Cat Name: indra storm-hymn
Gender: transfem [she/her]
Rank: meovrra
Clan: hsiin’al
Age: 17
Lyrics:
“she’s just like the weather, can’t hold her together,
born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow”
landscape by florence + the machine
Extras:
wip!

[espen.]

#3701
Username: espen.
Cat Name: Khios (key oh s)
Gender: Non-binary [ He / they ]
Rank: God of the winter season, renewal, and personal growth and self-improvement
Clan: The Principality
Age: 9000 moons
Themesong: sleep deprivation - chance peña
Extras: moodboard, art

Khios' name was created by combining the names Khione and Boreas. Khione is the daughter of Boreas, the god of the winter/north wind in Greek mythology, and the goddess of snow. Her father, Boreas, gave us our modern adjective, boreal, and was thought to bring on winter with his cold winds.

Since his icy birth, Khios struggled to live up to the vision he had for himself. His mother, the goddess of order, was never particularly strict with her offspring, but rather had a high standard to maintain. He wanted to make her proud and show how impeccable of a god he was. She'd smile, tilt her head, and gaze upon her creation with the warm love of a true mother when she saw his accomplishments. That, that is what he wanted.

Moons passed and his anxiety grew. Every step towards his goal had to be perfect; his mind swirled and his thoughts clashed like rocks on metal, the harsh sound keeping him up at all hours. What if the winter came too early? Or too late? What if the snowflakes melted too fast, the plants died too soon, the animals migrated too far? What if...what if he wasn't perfect...and couldn't live up to his image? What if he lost favor with his mother and was labelled a disgrace, a failure to the primordial gods? What if...

Nysa noticed her sleepless sibling dragging his paws through his duties and decided to inquire about his mood. He laid out every problem as he lounged on a bed of autumnal leaves in the siblings' sacred grove. Nysa listened intently and gave him this advice: "Do not dwell on what you must do, but take a moment and appreciate what you have already done. Mother is the goddess of order, balance, so you must practice her philosophy in order to succeed in your tasks. Balance your responsibilities with moments of appreciation, lest you render yourself useless with all your fretting!" She playfully cuffed him on the ear and returned to painting the summer leaves various comforting shades of amber and burgundy.

Khios sat on that bed of leaves for a moment longer, mulling over the advice he was given. There was much to think about, to analyze and dissect...He felt the weight of his many sleepless nights fall upon his dark shoulders. Khios decided to rest his eyes and think about his sibling's advice, hoping that his mind would offer clarity after a refresh. He shifted in his seat, letting his eyelids droop and his mind float along the stream of consciousness. Images of his previous winters swirled like freshly frozen snowflakes in the air. He saw the beauty of his work, the pristine nature of his layers of ice meticulously placed on each sedentary object.

wip with drawing of him bringing on winter as well

#3702
Username: espen.
Cat Name: Nysa (nee suh)
Gender: Non-binary [ She / they ]
Rank: God of the autumnal season, festivities, the hearth, gatherings, and community
Clan: The Principality
Age: 9000 moons
Lyrics: devourer - aidoneus | monster - jorge rivera-herrans

"Carnage on my tongue
Petal-veined devourer
I will bend and break the world...
Paint the night with colours of my rage
Forge the stars from all that remains
Let my spirit flow to the sea
Let it go
And let it be...
Cure me of myself
River wide, immortal
I, a curse, a plague on the Earth...

I'm surrounded by the souls of those I've lost
I'm the only one whose line I haven't crossed
What if the greatest threat we'll find across the sea
Is me?
What if I'm the monster?
What if I'm in the wrong?
What if I'm the problem that's been hiding all along?"

Extras: Nysa is named after the mountainous region of Nysa, where rain nymphs raised Dionysus, the god of wine and merriment.

To say Nysa, goddess of autumn, festivities, and community is protective would be a gross understatement. The air chilled, taking on a crisp sensation to your nose the day Nysa was born. The leaves' colors deepened into hearty oranges and reds, matching the feline's coat. As she got older, Nysa was taught about her duties and trained in her powers. Love and patience for those in your community were essential for it to work. Respect was a cornerstone of her belief system, not only for yourself but for others. Her morals were grown and fostered around accepting and protecting everyone. She adored her sibling and mother, enjoying every moment spent with them. She loved her family dearly, but always longed for more. Thoughts of alluring adventure and new cats drew her in. I mean, wasn't it her job to create and foster community? How could she do that when she only knew her family? Her mother was cautious of releasing her offspring onto the world, but eventually gave in, granting Nysa's wish.

The young cat ventured out into the mortals' world and fell upon a settlement. Nysa descended right outside the city gates and took in a deep breath of the fresh air. A distraught she-cat raced past the god, stumbling over her paws only to scramble up once more, her tail puffed up with stress. She raced through the city's archway gate and to the center of the town square, where the customary hearth lay to greet weary travelers. It was one of Nysa's symbols and her mother ordered each mortal city to construct one in their city center on her child's first birthday. The goddess marked it as a sacred site where any cat could find shelter and a warm embrace. The mortals were instructed to respect that area and show mercy to anyone who sought it out. The frantic she-cat thrust herself upon the steps circling the central fire and yowled for aid and mercy. A mangled-looking group of rogues nonchalantly strolled into the city, passing Nysa. One of the tomcats smirked at her, his broken fangs glinting. The group's appearance was shoddy, rough, and they looked as if they'd been chewed up and spit out by a large beast. Ears torn and clothes ripped, they surrounded the she-cat at the alter of peace, closing in and taunting her. Nysa's blood boiled and she felt pure, unbridled rage swell in her chest. How dare these puny mortals defy the wishes of her mother! The audacity they hold in their hearts to challenge the sanctity of the hearth and spit on my sacred symbol! She threw away any sense of caution she had held before and burst forth, growing her form and stretching her limbs to dominate the largest tomcat.

Her eyes blazed like the hottest hearth-fire as she stood before the insurrectionists on the grass surrounding her symbol.

"I am Nysa, god of autumn and the hearth. You puny, insignificant bugs will have but a fleeting moment to explain yourselves before I obliterate you and your entire lineage for forsaking the sacred laws of the hearth."

She licked her maw, danger dancing like a flame in her eyes and striking a match made of fear in the rogues' hearts. Their leader growled and said, "This little molly owes us a debt, goddess. Now if you'd be so inclined, I'd like to retrieve what's rightfully ours and leave this lovely town in peace." Nysa shifted her stance, moving onto the hearth's steps and protecting the cowering feline behind her. She clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing.

"I am a willing to show you mercy if you allow the rules of the hearth to change your hearts. You see, this pyre behind me is one of my many sacred symbols, and I do not take kindly to disrespect. I have given you mortals many gifts, but only asked you to show kindness to those who seek my hearth's sanctuary. Yet you cats are so short-sighted and stuck in your ways that you cannot even do that. Selfishness and greed fuel your actions, and I foolishly believed my mother's gift would allow you a moment of clarity, a moment to step back and contemplate your next course of action. Clearly I was mistaken. Now I remind you once more that I will show mercy if you reconcile your actions."

The tomcat snickered and spat at the feet of the deity, clearly not understand the consequence. Nysa erupted into flames, erasing the outline of her physical form and replacing it with swells and flashes of neon oranges and reds. Unnatural heaps of heat swelled around her as she lunged at the rogues, incinerating them on impact. Rage fueled her ever strike and she was blind to anything else. Her vision was coated in a thick glaze of orange light. Although she had very little experience using these power in combat, she felt confident about taking out a few measly rogues who were too big for their britches. The god swiped at them and exhaled swirls of fire in an arc around her. The hearth's flame jumped with every new display of her power, encouraging its maker. Her opponents fell quickly, their yelps of pain dissipating in the solar heat. Ever slash and claw adding tinder to her rage as she recalled their disrespect. Finally, the enemies were no more. When the adrenaline left Nysa, her solid form returned and she observed her surroundings. Heat outlined her coat and tickled the air around her. She looked almost like a desert mirage on a sweltering day.

Nysa waited for the mortal she-cat to sing her praises and fall upon the god's paws, as was customary at the time, but it never came. The confused feline whirled around only to be met by black streaks of soot emanating from where she stood. The air was clouded with smoke, filling her head with dizzying, noxious fumes. The town was decimated; adobe and stone buildings sizzled as their molten forms droops and oozed onto the ground. Walls were caved in and every structure seemed to lean away from the god, as if they were being blown away, clinging desperately to the ground they had always known. Nysa bolted into the nearest house, yowled for anyone, and dashed back out and into the next. She desperately searched for any form of life, any inkling that she hadn't done what she feared. Alas, no living creature could be found by the god. She was so blinded by her rage, her power, and protecting her sacred hearth that she'd lost control.

Wait...

Her hearth!

Nysa skidded across the terrain, cringing as her paws crunched over pebbles and bits of burnt debris. There it was. The alter was circular with marbles steps leading to the center pillar where a bronze bowl held the hearth-fire. It shone in the sun and the light glinted off each edge of the bronze bowl. Only the best materials were sacrificed to craft that hearth, and Nysa had broken the city around it. Smoke billowed off melted buildings that sat on scorched foundations in the background of her vision. The ground smoldered and all Nysa could do was stand there in shock and regret. She had never meant to cause so much pain and sorrow...

The tale of the fiery god who wiped an entire town off the map spread like wildfire amongst the mortal cities. Rumors were fed by tales of grandeur and exaggerated recollections of deceptive so-called survivors. These stories collected and formed a different view of Nysa, god of autumn. She was merry, benevolent, until a feline decided to cross her. Her rage could paint fire in the sky as she dealt her blows and exacted revenge on those who disgraced her. She showed her victims no mercy if they had the audacity to disrespect her and her sacred hearths. In turn, the mortals became more weary of crossing the goddess of the hearth and welcoming strangers with the utmost hospitality, lest they become her next target.

[Anpu]

#3701
Username: Anpu
Cat Name: Ruff Time
Gender: Nonbinary (They/Them)
Rank: Deity
Clan: Falling Stars
Age: 127 Moons
Themesong: Witch's Rune
Extras: This song represents them because the instumentals are smooth and soft, and despite the name Ruff'Time is a total sweetheart and just wants to dance. Also represents his dynamic to the cats of the crater, being one of their deities

#3702
Username: Anpu
Cat Name: King
Gender: Male
Rank: Prophet
Clan: Falling Stars
Age: 25 moons
Lyrics:
"I'll always love you
And ventured too far
I'll stay in your heart" - The Underworld by Jorge Rivera Herrans
Extras: King was origionally an outsider, and was supposed to get a warrior name but he thought that it would make his name longer (and therefor less cool) so he refuses to go by it. His warrior name was supposed to be Firey'King, which he thought was weird. The reason this song represents him is because he left behind a kitty-pet crush to journey to the source of the weird lights - aka the crater lands - but he'll always remember that kitty-pet

[V.Vulpes]

#3701
Username: V.Vulpes
Cat Name: Jolly [Full Officer name when graduated will be Jolly Dog]
Gender: Nonbinary [She/They/It]
Rank: Swabby
Clan: The Crow's Nest
Age: 1 year
Themesong: Hey, Runner! - The Arcadian Wild
Extras:
"You better run fast, get it done even if it takes all night. I don't know what else you've been told but i'm above that. And, if I change my mind, it'll be alright, it's not like you've got somewhere to be."

"I've got somewhere to be... And I'll never get there while you're stepping on me... I'm caught beneath your vanity. So why do I keep running?"

Jolly carries an air of resilience and quiet strength. On the surface, Jolly is known for being diligent, happy, and fiercely loyal to their clanmates, always willing to lend a paw without complaint. Even if it's something that she really doesn't want to do, she'll do it. It has an uncanny ability to anticipate the needs of others, often stepping in to help before being asked. This has earned Jolly a reputation as a reliable, almost self-sacrificing, member of the clan.

However, beneath that happy and accommodating exterior lies a deep-seated frustration with the way some of their clanmates take advantage of their willingness to serve. Jolly often finds itself in situations where it's needs and desires are overlooked in favor of those with louder voices or more forceful personalities. Despite this, Jolly keeps their resentment tightly under wraps, expressing it only through subtle, passive-aggressive gestures or quiet, sarcastic remarks that few would dare to interpret as genuine anger; more like little jokes about the situation.

Jolly's patience may be incredible but it's not infinite. There are moments when it contemplates running away from those who take it's kindness for granted. Yet, something (whether it's loyalty, duty, or a fear of change) keeps Jolly rooted in the clan, continuing to serve with a smile that hides the gunpowder in the canon that'll eventually fire.



#3702
Username: V.Vulpes
Cat Name: Meadow [Full Officer name when graduated will be Amber Meadow]
Gender: Molly [She/They]
Rank: Swabby
Clan: The Crow's Nest
Age: 1 year
Lyrics:
"On some level I think I always understood that a ship could never really love an anchor.
So, I did the only thing that I could, and severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor."
Never Love An Anchor - The Crane Wives
Extras:
Meadow is determined to find happiness and purpose. That is the one thing in life that she feels that she deserves. After leaving a neglectful mother behind, she joined The Crow's Nest as a swabby, and threw herself into her training with a fervor that often surprises her mentors.

Meadow's approach to relationships within the crew has been cautious, almost to the point of self-sabotage. She's deeply afraid of becoming her mother, becoming the "anchor" that her mother was on her. They don't want to hold the clan back or being held down themselves. This fear manifests in her tendency to keep others at a tail length, especially when she begins to feel too close to someone. But don't be fooled, Meadow wants to be part of the crew, wants to contribute and find joy in companionship, but there's the persistent worry that her presence could become a burden rather than a blessing.

Meadow also often finds herself grappling with guilt over her detachment. She knows she is capable of love, she loved her mother, but she hated what that cat became. Now, the thought of allowing herself to fully embrace that love terrifies her. She constantly questions whether she is being selfish or cruel for holding back, yet she can't shake the belief that this is the only way to protect herself and others from the inevitable pain.

Despite the struggle, Meadow is earnest in her attempts to find happiness. She throws herself into her training, hoping that by focusing on her skills and duties, she might quiet the turmoil within her heart. Meadow dreams of a day when she can let go of her fears and fully embrace the life she longs for and free from the burden of feeling like an anchor.

[elliott.]

#3702
username: elliott.
cat name: petalpaw -> petalhollow
gender: female [she/her]
rank: apprentice
clan: the hawthorns
age: 12 moons
lyrics:
"from far away, i wish i'd stayed with you,
but here, face to face, a stranger that i once knew.
i thought, if i wandered, i'd fall back in love.
you said, "distance brings fondness", but guess not with us.
the only mistake that we didn't make was run."
[ Astronomy - Conan Gray ]

"i don't wanna go, think i'll make it worse,
everything i know brings me back to us.
i don't wanna go, we've been here before,
everywhere i go leads me back to you,"
[ I miss you, I'm sorry - Gracie Abrams ]
extras:
Petalpaw's story is not a happy one. And it never has been.

She had always been the type to watch from afar, to understand but not really know. It had been the way she had lived since she was a young kit, watching her parents argue and bicker over how different their lives were. It's how she knew how to stay quiet, how to move through life silently without causing a fuss. She was quiet, but not in a way that made her seem meek or annoyed. The background was where she fit in perfectly, and she enjoyed it.

In fact, the only time she remembers being happy is when she still knew Rookpaw. He was a scraggly thing, sticks and caked dirt in his fur at all times. They had been in the nursery at the same time, involved in the same games, but she never knew him. He was just another kit with a face and fur that got a little loud when the sun went down.

But there was something about the scraggly tom that caught her eye.

It was their apprentice ceremony. Usually, the day was shared between littermates, but as fate would have it, they had been born on the same day, each the only one in their litters. She hadn't known that until that day, standing up with one of the head fighters as they announced their apprenticeship, calling her name and then his right after. It was a twisted thing, hearing their names together.

Being the only apprentices in the taiga, they always trained together. For sparring matches, they had to be fighting each other, or learning to fight with each other. For hunting, they had to work together to scent the prey and then catch it together. Their training regime was all about teamwork. They were forced to be a team, a duo. They worked well together, fitting like puzzle pieces. It was another twisted thing, working so well despite not knowing the other cat.

Naturally, they fell into friendship. The tough and brazen apprentice was a thief, stealing her quiet from her and turning her into a different cat. She learned how to laugh, how to break out of the buzz of the background, how to not hate it. The dull thrum of life had disappeared, being replaced with vibrant color and the chirp of birds and the trickle of water. That was the last twisted thing -- actually living life when he was in it.

Life was radiant for a while. The dark and cloudy days of life were over. Rookpaw had become a bit of solace to Petalpaw, her closest confidant, her best friend. They shared their secrets in the dead of the night, in the silence of apprentice's den, whispering despite them being the only two in the shield of bracken. She had gone from not wanting to know him at all to wanting to know everything. She had memorized how he slept, his tone of voice when he was joking versus when he was serious, which prey he preferred to eat above other kinds. Their words came out the exact same, at the same time.

She wanted to kick herself for saying it, but it was like their souls were entwined. It was like fate had tied their invisible strings together and they were meant to be by each other's side. Forever seemed like a long time, but not when she imagined it with him.

Looking back, it was foolish to think all of that so young. There were too many factors of life to have a long-term plan, especially one that involved someone else, who had their own dreams and thoughts and feelings. It had no choice but to end in despair. A tragedy.

Around the time Petalpaw and Rookpaw became nine moons old, a group of rebels formed on Hawthorns' land. Led by Fawnfluff and Cherryfreckle, children of Poppyhowl, their goal was to abolish the leadership in the Hawthorns in order to bring it back to the way it once was. It was mostly rumor mill, the talk around it being cut off by higher ranking cats, but it was real. She saw it with her own eyes when she was out on patrol with Rookpaw and a few older cats. Squirrel burrows destroyed, makeshift dams built in rivers. Things made to draw the Hawthorns cats out of the territory.

It annoyed Petalpaw. Why did cats have to make a big deal about things? Everyone was fed, got healed when they were sick, were protected and safe. From her perspective, there wasn't an issue. And you shouldn't make an issue when there isn't one.

But Rookpaw had different thoughts. She didn't know it at the time, of course. He kept quiet, only mentioning that it was "crazy."

Until he disappeared without a trace.

She had woken up to the nest beside her being empty. There was still an imprint of where he used to sleep on his side, and his scent still clung to the moss, but it was cold, like he hadn't laid there all night. She had assumed he was out already, so she checked the camp, but no one had seen him. It was like he had disappeared.

For moons, Petalpaw saw no sight of him. Sometimes, she thought that she could smell his scent in the wind, her eyes darting around like a crazy cat on a full moon until her heart stopped thudding in her chest and the dread set back in. The vibrant colors had started fading again, her world turning monochrome and dull. She started lagging behind in training without Rookpaw by her side, the words of her trainers just mumbles in her ears. She became a shell of herself. No longer in the background of life, she was stuck outside of it, looking in.

One night, she was taking a walk on the territory by herself. It wasn't allowed, especially with the rebels out and about, but she had snuck through the bracken of the den she had started to call hers. Her eyes had drooped as she sat along a hill top, sleep threatening to overtake her, but she had pulled herself back awake. Night time was the only time the buzz of cats quieted down, giving her time to think about herself and her life. What she wanted to happen versus what actually could.

And then she saw it. It was a glimpse, a shadow, but she saw it. All of her sleepiness had evaporated at the sight, fur standing on edge at the feelings of eyes on her. She whipped around as the grass seemed to move all around her, eyes widening as she grew anxious. Had the rebels decided to become violent? They never had before, but now they would.

Her heart thrummed harder in her chest as eyes peered at her through the bushes, growing larger until a face appeared, and then a body. At first, she didn't realize the cat in front of her. He had longer fur, perfectly groomed down with no sticks or dirt. He was tall, long legs and an agile body, one built for running and quick movements. It was a stranger.

But, slowly, his scent wrapped around her, familiar and causing her chest to ache. A soft gasp left her as she took a hesitant step back, toes digging into the dirt. "Rookpaw?"

The cat in front of her reflected her shock and surprise, friendly eyes widening. He also took a step back, like seeing Petalpaw had physically hit him. She expected him to say something, to celebrate seeing her, but he didn't. Instead, he turned tail and ran. She attempted to chase him, legs aching as she pushed after him, but he had become speedier in his time away from her. He disappeared again, gone with the wind, his scent in the wind the only trace of him.

And that was the last time she ever saw him. Her soulmate. Her vibrant color in the dull buzz of the background.