[☥𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒☥] ♛Warriors RP♚ Aᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ!

[-Blackthorn-]

𝕆𝕞𝕖𝕟
Tom
Rogue
Tags: Finch
x

xxxxxxxxHaving given up on hunting for the night, the silver tabby examined his surroundings, and he happened to see Finch. The silver tabby had nothing against the brown tabby molly; he actually respected her for her resourcefulness. Nonetheless, he made no attempt in conversation, even as she moved to sit beside the border.

xxxxxxxxLike her, he had no permanent territory. He was as nomadic as she was, even though their paths had never crossed.

xxxxxxxxThey sat together, unaware of each other's presence, yet in mutual enjoyment. Finally, Omen broke the silence, "It's a a big ball of light and sound." For emphasis and perhaps clarity, he jerked his muzzle toward the festival. He picked up his scorpion that he had caught earlier, and after he removed the poisonous stinger, took a bite. His teeth crunched through the hide, and he reached the flesh in no time. He looked at her and asked, "You gotten dinner yet? I can hunt for both of us if necessary."

[Dragonheart48]

Sandwhisper • MtF trans • Royal advisor • 25 Moons • Nomasexual • Crush: open • Tags- Badgerpaw

xxxxxThe smoky tan she-cat had sat, tail curled around her back legs, as she adjusted the delicate gold-ruby studded mask on her face. The mask had been an anonymous gift from someone so she could dress in garb befitting her new rank as she wasn't a stranger to wearing bronze apparel to these kinds of events. She frowned for a moment not really recognizing herself as she strapped on a pair of decorative gauntlets, that matched the mask she'd been given, and applied the scent masking perfume before exiting her den. The sound of the drums reverberated through her bones and she picked up her pace a little to get to the entrance of the throne room. She looked around curiously scanning the amassing crowd of cats for her escort Badgerpaw. A small smile flickered across her face, whoever had decided the escorts had chosen to respect her chosen gender, which was a rare occurrence by all accounts but a very welcome one. She spotted the familiar black and white pattern of Badgerpaw's coat a moment later and sauntered up to him with a friendly greeting still smiling, "Hey Badgerpaw, I'm sorry if I kept you waiting".

Crocodile • Molly • Loner • 23 Moons • Homosexual • Crush: open • Tags- Finch, Omen

xxxxxThe bengal she-cat grinned as she neared the border the sound of the drums echoing across the sands of the desert. She'd left her stand after saying goodbye to the tom who'd stopped by earlier and packing up all of her wears to come and watch the gala. The molly grinned at the figures of two other loners sitting at the borders watching the light show that was the gala of Sekhmet. The skull headdress and other bones that adorned her clattered slightly as she walked should have alerted the two to her approach or so she hoped. "Hello, Finch", the fae said with a grin. Crocodile was in a bit of a playful mood so she decided to bank on her habit of not directly addressing the tom.

[-Blackthorn-]

𝕆𝕞𝕖𝕟
Tom
Rogue
Tags: Finch, Crocodile
x

Omen looked up from his scorpion and bowed his head to Crocodile before turning back to his scorpion. He watched the dazzling light show from where he was sitting, secretly enjoying the drums in his heart. Oh for what a story he would have to write when he was back at his den. Part of him wanted to sit here, but part of him was aching for a quill and parchment. He did have to write it before he got writers block, "This must be a very large celebration." the silver tabby murmured to himself, "You can hear it all the way from here."

[dinolover519]

Druidia|female|18 moons|loner|location: by the clan border|tags: open|mentions: Finch, Omen, Crocodile

The Savannah opened her eyes to the sound of noise much closer to her than that of the distant drums. About 14 or 15 fox-lengths away, a group of cats sat by the border, chatting. Druidia’s fur stood on end. A true loner, Druidia preferred to keep to herself, and rarely interacted with other loners and rogues, even though she knew they were commonplace in the prey-rich lands by Sunclan.

The loner recognized one of the cats as the molly she had met before when wandering, but he rest remained a mystery. On one paw, they could likely explain what was occurring in Sunclan this time, but on the other, more logical, paw, it would be safer to avoid them. So, ignoring the way the beating of the drums pulled at her heart stings and the glowing lights grasped on her mind, The she-cat began slinking away towards her den, praying to the trifold that they hadn’t noticed her.

[moondust405]

Finch

Molly~23 moons~Loner~Tags; Omen, Crocodile, Druidia

"And yet it draws us in, like a moth to light," Finch glanced at Omen as he sat beside her, curling her tail around her paws to provide more room. "There's a certain allure, and yet I wouldn't go back for anything." Maybe one thing, a certain cat, some traitorous voice in the back of her mind hissed.
"No, I'm quite alright," Finch replied to the rogue's later comment, flicking her ears to dismiss a bug and narrowing her eyes to battle the contrast of night and the bright lights of the clan. Almost unconsciously, a paw tapped to the vaguely familiar beat of the drums in the distance, though the tortoiseshell looked over when she heard the clatter of bones. "Hey, Croc," Finch greeted in return, using the nickname mostly to annoy the she-cat.

Finch chuckled as she caught some of what Omen said.. "Large is one way to put it. If my assumption is correct, it's their Gala for Sekhmet, one of the more worshiped gods in the clan. Priestess and everything. I've heard rumors, though, something bad happened to her. But the gods do not rest, so neither will they. Heck, they even have a masquerade ball and everything." Just then, she spotted the stranger from earlier in the distance, attempting to escape attention. Blinking at surprise that they met again so soon, she nodded in greeting, but didn't want to call them over based on how they had avoided Finch earlier.

[~Wildfire]

R O W A N F L A M E
{ male - 24 moons - scout - location: the courtyard - tags: open }

Rowanflame flashed a smile at his own reflection in the polished silver plate that he had swiped from the cats who had been preparing tonight's feast while they weren't looking. The tom that looked back at him from the surface looked positively out of his mind, and that was exactly how he loved it.
The idea of having to wear some itchy mask for the entirety of the evening hadn't exactly sat well with him, so Rowanflame had decided to bend the rules a little. He had lined his eyes with kohl, making the green orbs stand out even more, and spread out the dark substance over most of the upper half of his face and up to his ears, just like were a mask would be. The contrast between it and his fur was striking and brought out the flaming color of his pelt.
Around his neck was wrapped a bizarrely green boa, which, if he was entirely honest with himself, he had no clue where he'd gotten from. Though the gala was supposed to be a formal event, he knew from experience that no one would expect him not to screw something up by the time he got through the door, so the ginger tom had decided to go all out so that his clanmates would at least have something to talk about.
Rowanflame dragged a paw through his fur, successfully messing it up and making it stick out in all directions. The last thing left for him to put on were a pair of black leather gauntlets that sat on the ground just beside his nest. They were the only thing he had had on himself when the ginger scout first arrived to Sunclan. The only thing he had from his kithood home. Not that he missed the terrorizing, brutish rogues, but every time Rowanflame had tried to throw it out, that last link to his father and his past, he faltered, unable to do it.
And so he slipped the gauntlets on even now, the slightly restricting feeling very familiar. Shaking off the dark emotions that always accompanied thinking about his past, Rowanflame grinned to himself one more time before slipping out of the den and into the night.

B A D G E R P A W
{ male - 12 moons - guard's apprentice - location: courtyard - tags: sandwhisper }

Badgerpaw got to his paws with a smile as Sandwhisper approached and gave her a respectful bow of his head. Even if she was smaller than him and tonight ranks weren't supposed to hold any weight, but it was still hard to fight what had been drilled into him from a young age, especially when he knew it was the royal adviser standing in front of him.
"Hey, don't worry about it, I just got here a little while ago myself," he replied, tilting his head slightly to the side with a smile. "You look beautiful," the black and white tom meowed, taking in the elaborate mask and accessories. But a flash of dark fur just inside the throneroom made him whip his head around before he could stop himself, only to see Layla disappear behind one of the columns, obviously taking care of the last details before all the guests would be let in.
Badgerpaw would be lying to himself if he pretended not to be on high alert when it came to the she-cat. He couldn't wait to see her and hopefully spend a little more time with her, this time without being afraid of someone seeing them.
Realizing that he was being extremely rude, the young brute swiveled back to face Sandwhisper and gave her an apologetic smile. "Shall we?" he asked, nodding towards the line at the entrance, where their identities would be checked before they were all allowed to join the gala.

[-Blackthorn-]

𝕆𝕞𝕖𝕟
Tom
Rogue
Tags: Finch, Crocodile, Druida (mentioned)
x

xxxxxxxx"Well whatever it is, it’s scared off all the prey for the night." Omen growled softly, although he was only half-heartedly upset. Sensing that he did not want to ruin the mood in any way, he quickly added, “At least it gives me something to write about.” Just as he said that, a wonderful series of paragraphs came into mind, and he jumped up, green eyes wide, “Speaking of writing….I’ve got to go. Inspiration’s just bopped me on the head.” Those words were barely out before the silver tabby turned on his heel and ran briskly back to his den. Scrambling inside and going right to his table, he picked up his quill, and by moonlight alone, started to write. The words flowed out of him like water from the nile, filling the air with the sound of a quill scratching on parchment.

[dinolover519]

Layla| female | 11 moons | courtier |Location: sunclan|Tags: open|mentions: Zeri, Farrah,Badgerpaw|

Layla had awoken this morning to a sharp pain in her side as a guard kicked. His claws weren’t put, but it hurt nonetheless. Could she speak, she would have yelped, but instead she maintained her silence bitterly. Since then, her day had not gotten any better. She had been shove around from task to task in order to prepare for a stupid Gala which she would be forbidden from attending. Of course, she would be there, but as a servant and wearing the servant’s mask. But, setting up the gala had its advantages. She had found a single table by the edge of the party and hidden a second mask there, one she had stolen of course.

All she had to do was slip under the table and swap masks, then Layla could attend the party and see..Her fur felt hot and she smiled slightly...her friend Badgerpaw. At least, that’s what he probably thought of her. After all, he was a high blood, and she was a mere slave. The black molly shook her head softly and let out a silent sigh. Such things were too impossible.

She hadn’t confided in Farrah and Zeri about her plan yet, as neither would likely approve of such traitorous acts, and hoped they, especially Farrah, wouldn’t find up.

Silver|male|24 moons|chattel cat| location: slave cells|tags: Fenrys|mentions: Fallon (not by name)

The drum beat seemed to echo in Silver’s brain and sleep constantly evaded him. He tossed and turned, but with he sharp pains of hunger adding into the mix, it looked like it would just be another long night for the chattel cat. He flicked his ears at the sound of Fenrys’s voice and turned towards the other tom.

“Do you ever pay attention?” Silver mewed sarcastically at Fenrys. “Maybe if you looked past that pretty courtier for one moment you would know.” He did his best to ignore the feeling in his chest. What was it? Jealousy? Why would he be jealous of some courtier? He rolled his eyes at both Fenrys, as well as himself.

“It’s their stupid Gala where they celebrate how special Subclan is and how much the gods love them so much.” His fur bristled with hatred at the thought of the self-entitled clan. He suddenly stood up, his mind now sharp with excitement. “The guards, they’ll all be at the gala or horribly distracted. I could, I mean we could escape!” He paced around in his cell, thinking. “And with the noise of the drums, no one would notice if we broke a few things along the way.” He looked at his bedding. “Maybe if we had masks...” he muttered to himself, then glanced around. Like he had thought, the guard who was supposed to watching them was distracted, trying to fix her mask for the gala.

Scarabstone|male|24 moons|scribe|location: sunclan|tags: blossomsong |mentions:

Scrabstone was glad to know that he was to escort Blossomsong. Had his assigned escort been a high blood, the even would have been much more awkward. He glanced around for the molly, his nerves kicking in again. What if she decided that he wasn’t good enough to escort her and would rather face shame for not attending than shame for coming with him. He adjusted his mask, glad that no cat could see his anxiety and sadness. Even though he was only a commoner, he had done his best to dress up for the occasion, donning a golden ring around his tail tip in addition to his mask and scarab necklace, a family heirloom which he wore often.

Goldenwaves|female|46 moons| Priestess of Isis|location:sunclan|tags: Darkstar|mentions:

It was the little things in life that Goldenwaves truly appreciated. While he may not show it, she knew that her mate truly loved her, and while many wouldn’t be able to detect it in his stoic expression, she sensed it, and stretched out her paw and laid it on his. The Gala was already showing promise of being an excellent occasion, despite its many setbacks along the way.

Though she knew it was selfish, Goldenwaves did enjoy getting dolled up for the party, and adored the way her mask matched her mother’s neck piece and flowing silk that flew from it and wrapped around her body.

She smiled at Darkstar, for a moment, then remembered. “It seems like only yesterday I was out there as an apprentice at celebrations, now our kits are adults who will soon enough have their own mates and kits. I suddenly feel so old.” She joked, then looked over the crowd, wondering what her kits thought of the whole situation with a slight pain in her chest, but shrugged it off and put on a kind smile. She would not ruin this night with her worries, especially when it was the last thing her mate needed.

Weaselheart | male |60 moons|Scout/Loner|location: sunclan|tags: none|mentions:

Weaselheart had just finished adjustinghis black mask when he heard the call of the drumbeats. The older tom rushed outside and looked around for his assigned escort, Fallencloud. He still felt a bit haughty on the matter. He considered his luck one of his greatest strengths, and when the odds came in his favor, like being assigned as the escort for a royal, he was not surprised.

The shady cat had prepared well for tonight. He wore a black tophat and coat sleeves filled with secret pockets and false bottoms for his “magic” tricks. His legs and tail were covered with various bracelets of silver, gold, and bronze, the majority of which he had “borrowed” on his travels.

Druidia|female|18 moons|loner|location: by the clan border|tags: open|mentions: Finch,Omen, Crocodile none

Druidia turned back a little and met Finch’s eyes. Feeing a bit guilty, she gave her a small smile and flick of her long spotted tail before heading off back to her den.

Druidia is scented the familiar air around her home and stopped to light the candles by each of her shrines. She turned first to the one for Egyptian gods, which she lit brighter today in honor of whatever celebration Sunclan was having. The one to the trifold she did a bit dimmer, but respectfully nonetheless. Giving a little prayer to to both pantheons, she sat in the entrance of her layer and listened in to the distant drums. The noise wasn’t as strong here, but she could still feel it resonating in her heart.

The savannah cat tilted her head to the moon and grinned slightly. The night was always a great comfort to her, feeling the invisible presence of the deities she worshipped so carefully in the glow of the moonbeams. She often wondered what it would be like if her grandparents had stayed in Greece. Would she have grown up a kitty pet there? Would she even exist. She shook her head, not wanting to ponder such questions now, and focused back into the music.

[squarshed]

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻
|| molly || 32 moons || priestess of Horus|| tags; Beefang || mentions; || n/a

Looking at her reflection in the pool of water, Rosewater took a shaky breath. Her mask did little to hide the nervous expression upon her face. It had been a long time since she had been in anything other than her required attire, out in public. While only one cat out of the whole clan would know who this mask bearer was, it still made her anxious. Her usual Eye of Horus pendant had been replaced with the blue ornate necklace, gifted to her by her mother. The thought that it would be far too obvious on who she was if someone were to take note of it ate away at her, until, last-minute, she made her decision to replace the sacred necklace. Not to mention, it would be disrespectful to worship another God, at Sekhmet's own gala. Thus, her precious jewelry had been switched out.

"I'm overthinking all of this," she thought to herself, shaking her head, lotus earrings jingling, and putting a far more calm, confident expression on. Everything would be fine. Her escort, Beefang, seemed to be a kind, goofy young tom. The gala would go by smoothly. She would speak to the others, as usual. So why did she feel so anxious? Like the world was crumbling away beneath her feet? Shivering, the young molly looked up and away from her reflection. Collecting her racing thoughts, head held high, she walked through the scent-masking perfume everycat was required to wear. Stepping out, she looked around, feeling stunned. She knew the courtiers had been slaving away all day long on preparations, but she truly didn't know the extent of what they had done. The bright lights and ceremonial drumbeats what her eyes widen and a smile spread, and she couldn't help but let out a joyful giggle.

Her dark golden eyes locked onto Beefang, not far from the Temple entrance. Giddy with a new found excitement, she swiftly made her way to the tabby. A purr escaped as she asked "Are you ready? I know I sure am. The courtiers did splendidly on the decorations. It truly is a gala." Eyes wandering for a little, she had to drag her gaze back up to the young fighter's face in order to remain polite.


𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔡
|| molly || 17 moons || guard || tags; Weaselheart || mentions; n/a ||

Fallencloud hummed softly to herself as she calmly prepared, the beats of the distant drums a soothing bass to the non-sense noises she made. A small, permanent smile had found its way upon her maw, and she stepped lightly around the small area. She had been lent her own space to prepare for the Gala, and she was most definitely going to take advantage of it. Slipping on a golden bangle, the young molly let her mind wander away from the room and her trivial tasks, taking up place outside, where cats of all ages, ranks, and genders would be gathering about. She could practically feel the buzz of conversation, smell the faint scents of excitement and joy wafting through the air, nearly overpowered by the perfume and cologne worn by everyone. Perhaps, she would be able to spot out a certain someone, speak with him behind a mask, where she felt safe from the overbearing responsibility of her rank. Get to know him better- "Don't get your hopes up" she scolded herself, quickly squashing the climbing hope in her chest.

Shaking her head,earrings tinkling along with her sudden movements, amber met amber as she glanced at her self in the reflection of a clear mirror. The reflection forced a smile at her, muttering out "I will have a great time. I will talk to others. I will not, under any circumstances, leave before moonhigh." Reciting what her mother had insisted upon earlier, taking in a deep breath and puffing her chest out slightly. As she released the pent-up air, she felt her shoulders relax, and a more genuine grin creep back onto her face. Reaching out, she placed her surprisingly light mask onto her face, quickly recapping in her head.

Her escort was Weaselheart, a tom her mother knew and trusted. Check. She had everything on. Check. She had calmed her frantically beating heart. Check. She was composed, and ready to go. Check. So, she strode out of her private room, through the perfume, and outside. She scanned the area, searching for the brown tom and his black, horned mask. While it took her a hot second, she managed to lock her gaze onto him (top hat and all), briskly making her way over. She could hardly wait to get into the Gala, and she also wanted to get in as soon as possible, in order to hopefully avoid the inevitable wait. "Good evening. Sorry I'm late, I got a bit distracted. Are you ready to go?" she called out to him, before getting a bit closer. The lights and decorations were dazzling, and the noise washed over her, shockingly bringing a sense of peace with it. Tonight, she wouldn't be singled out for being royal. Tonight, she could be herself, without the worry of what it would do to her royal image.



ℭ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔤
|| tom || 26 moons || fighter || tags; Fogstep || mentions; none ||

Coldfang was, as expected, taking his time with his own preparations. Slipping on his jewelry, grooming any stray hairs, making himself look beyond presentable. His silver hoop earrings adorned both of his ears, and the snake earrings glittering in the dim light. His bracelet glistened, catching the Siamese's eye as he brought his attention upon the family relic. Wearing it made him feel borderline sick, in a way. It brought back the memories of his past that he had worked so hard to bury. And yet, he still wore it; maybe out of respect, or perhaps spite. The mask fell heavy upon his face as he sighed. Giving himself a quick shake, Coldfang puffed up his chest, building back up his previous joy and excitement.

Coldfang hastily pushed his previous thoughts to the back of his kind, where he would deal with them on a 'later date', as he always told himself. Enthusiasm now creeping back into his bones, the tom quickly slipped on his rarely-seen pendant, handed down to him by his mother. He almost didn't wear the dreaded, simple necklace, but a flash of malice consumed him briefly, and he tugged the jewelry on around his neck. Why his negative emotion possessed him to toss on the pendant, he did not know; he did know that he would wear it, and it would look great on him.

With newfound confidence and mild aggression, the young Siamese strode through the cologne required to hide his scent (almost sneezing in the process) and out to find Fogstep. He had never been happier to escort someone before, even if he hadn't escorted anyone before. His previous encounter with the humorous molly made any possible anxiety clouding his mind vacate, allowing him a clear mind as he looked for her. His eyes locked onto her form, and he couldn't help but let out a small purr upon seeing her. "Your outfit is lovely. I dare say, it's very fitting, " he remarked, allowing a few moments for the compliment to sink in before asking "I assume you're ready to go, correct?"



𝓢𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓹𝓪𝔀
|| molly || 10 moons || scout apprentice || tags; Stormhaze || mentions; n/a ||

Worry and anxiety had been eating away at Sagepaw all day, and now that the time had come, she felt as if she had stars in her head; lightheaded and sick. While she had been preparing all day long, doubts kept clouding her mind on how prepared she was for the Gala. Did she have enough jewelry on? Did she have too much? Would her flower necklace be too "extra"? What if she messed up, said the wrong thing? The thought alone of going into a crowded, loud, bright space frightened her to the core, rattling her to the bones. Even in that very moment she lay curled in her nest,mask discarded next to her and blue eyes peering over the edge tentatively. She considered not even going; she felt sick. Could she pass that off as a good excuse?

But, the thought of letting down Stormhaze took over. While she respected the tom, it had a hint of fear intertwined with her opinion on him. That didn't mean she should leave him on the night of the Gala, without anyone to escort. She half-heartedly lifted herself, casting a glance upon her mask. Her pendant swung underneath her floral necklace, and her lotus earrings dangled dangerously close to the neckwear. Placing the mask on, she sighed, kneading the ground anxiously before swiftly turning her body towards the entrance to the apprentice's den. It was now or never. Covering her scent in the strong perfume, she briskly walked out, paws heavy and head light.

The lights were even brighter than she thought; the drum beats far louder than they were in her shared den. "This is so much worse than I imagined." the intrusive thought crossed her mind quickly. Keeping her head low, she glanced at any and all pacing cats, desperate to find her escort and get out of here. While it took her a minute, she managed to pick out the older tom in the crowd, his own gaze no doubt looking for her. Picking up her pace, she hurried next to him, looking at the ground, controlling her breaths the best she could. She didn't say anything at first, only sitting down next to him, avoiding his gaze. Swallowing her overbearing fear, she glanced up at him and muttered out a barely audible "Are you ready?" Tonight was going to be a very, very long night.



𝔐𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔭𝔞𝔴
|| tom || 13 moons || scribe apprentice || tags; n/a || mentions; Wolfheart ||

Mothpaw really wasn't paying attention to how long he had been waiting around for Wolfheart. Waiting didn't bother him, and, besides, he had shown up very early to escort her. No doubt, he was one of the first cats out the den, fully prepared for the Gala. He had been preparing most of the day, so he was quick to change into his attire. Besides, he didn't add much to his usual attire, anyway. The only things he had added were a new thin, brass band, and (obviously), his mask. The brass bracelet had been given to him by his mother, in a silent manner. He was still replaying the ginger she-cat walking to him and handing him the jewelry, politely asking him to wear it. The tension had been so thick, he could have cut it with his own claws. The mask, he and his father picked out together, with plenty of laughter and joy. It went to show the way things were working out, in his family.

Shaking the intrusive thoughts away, he tried to focus on the present. The beautiful music, the lights, the decorations. All gorgeously well constructed, and put together. Organized wonderfully, he noted, and he resisted the urge to take notes on how everything looked. He already felt himself slipping deep into thought; Wolfheart probably wouldn't be coming anytime soon, so he had time to think, right? Thus, the young tom allowed his eyes to glaze over as he stared up at the different decorations, taking notes in his head, overthinking and calculating everything around him.




𝓕𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓪𝓱
|| molly || 52 moons || music courtier || tags; Layla || mentions; the courtiers ||

It felt nice to be able to finally sit after such a long day. Farrah looked upon the gala with pride and a dreary feeling behind her eyes that begged her to get some sleep. The night was just starting, though, and she quickly pushed the feeling aside to focus on the decorations. The courtiers, slaves and herself had all been toiling away all day long, in order to make the gala look beyond spectacular. And it truly did. Throughout the day, Farrah had found herself helping other cats, doing physical labor, and practicing the night's music. She was hardly able to keep an eye on everyone, and could only spend a little time with each courtier, causing a bad feeling to worm it's way up her throat. Were they all ready for tonight? It was the main question that floated around her head constantly throughout the busy day. Looking upon all the hard work they had done, though, it was very apparent that they were beyond ready, which had quickly dispersed the bad thought from her head.

Now freshened up, having applied the perfume earlier on, she surveyed the area to double-check everything, just in case. Her mask required of her covered only half of her face, but she was still careful of the emotions she displayed on her face. Without a doubt, her snake bracelet and scarab earringswould give away who she was to anyone that paid even the slightest attention to the courtiers, the large tabby couldn't have cared less. She had no real desire to hide her identity; she was simply doing what was asked of her. So, she did very little to hide who she was.

During her little survey of the area, she spotted a familiar black coat of a certain she-cat, and Farrah felt herself relax. Making her way towards Layla, purring as she got closer, she received that she hadn't talked to Layla all day. A pang of guilt ran through the older molly once she reached Layla's side. "By the Gods, I haven't spoken with you all day, Layla. I'm so sorry. You're okay, right? Not hurt all too bad? Prepared for tonight?" Farrah nudged the small molly lightly as she inspected her for any open wounds. It didn't seem like it, thank the Gods. While the huge tabby most definitely didn't expect any type of verbal response, she still patiently waited for some form of physical response from Layla.

[Nyverria]

𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽

Female|37 moons|Guard|Tags: Mothpaw

➣Wolfheart was finishing up getting herself ready. She finally applied her mask as she made her way out of her den. The fae didn't want to keep the young tom waiting much longer since she took forever to decide what to wear. Wolfheart wasn't much of an delicate flower..she was more of a rock than anything. Her eaarings and necklace swayed as the molly hurried to meet Mothpaw, her accessories were passed down from her great grandmother and now to Wolfheart for special occasions such as the Gala; they meant the world to her.

There was an armband on Wolfheart's left foreleg which was tight enough to stay in place as the fae finally caught up to Mothpaw. She felt a little nervous for making him wait for so long. "Apologies for making you wait so long Mothpaw." she mewed softly as she recognized the familiar pelt of the younger tom.