((I don't have time to post right this second, but I'll throw something up either tonight or tomorrow. Tonight preferred. This is just to show I haven't forgotten about all you lovelies. <3
-- Bad post is really bad ;-;))
R.e.d.c.l.o.u.d.Gender: Tom
Age: 42 moons
Rank: Senior Warrior
Status: Single
Apprentice: None
State: Mildly Surprised
Tags: Whitestar, Honeywolf, Robinheart, Hazelsky
His deep baritone voice joined with the rest as the cheers for Littlemoth resounded through camp. Yet another youth to graduate into the ranks of Flightclan warriors, and with each new addition the red tom's pride for his clan grew. This ceremony signified more than just the passage of pawhood to adulthood, it proved that the group wasn't just surviving, they were thriving. As the little she-cat sat back down, fur clearly fluffed out in pride, Redcloud returned his attention to Whitestar. Mossy eyes widen in surprise as the leader named the loner who had only wandered into camp less than an hour or so ago. No cat had ever been invited into their tightly knit family so quickly, and he couldn't help but question the decision. He liked Deli- Robinheart well enough, but should trust really be given that freely? A small shrug rolled his broad shoulders as he decided it was best left to believing that Whitestar had his reasons. Mixed feelings stirred as he was paired yet again with Honeywolf; he hated the idea of his presence being forced on the she-cat who obviously didn't want him around. An apology flashed in his eyes as he glanced at his clanmate before she stormed off. Getting to his paws, he looked to the white and tabby she-cat that was seated next to him, "Don't mind her, Robinheart. She just needs some sleep; I think we all do. Come on now, there's an empty nest near mine you can take."
Waiting just long enough for Robinheart to get up, the heavy set warrior padded towards the one of the dens that was beginning to fill. Entering the gloom that shrouded the nests, he made his way towards the back where Hazelsky and he had claimed one of the larger nests. His sister was already curled in the moss and feathers that lined their little dip in the earth, her side rising and falling in a steady manner. Flicking his tail towards the nest next to them that appeared freshly made, he stepped into his own bed. Wrapping his bulk around the slim form of his sister, he mumbled, "Good night, Robinheart," before resting his chin on Hazelsky's back and letting his eyes slide shut. In their forty-two moons of living, the siblings had never slept apart from each other. Their sharing of a nest never stopped after leaving the nursery, it had followed them into the apprentices' den and the habit had never been broken after that. Letting his nose fall into the thick golden pelt, Hazelsky's comforting scent lulled his mind and brought sleep rushing to the exhausted cat.
H.a.z.e.l.s.k.y.Gender: She-cat
Age: 42 moons
Rank: Senior Warrior
Status: Single
Apprentice: Softpaw
State: Excited
Tags: No cat
The pale gold she-cat couldn't help the sense of pleasure rising in her as the scene unfolded in front of her and every other cat gathered. So much anger, surprise, and indifference drifted off of her clanmates it was nearly intoxicating. Oh the words that would be exchanged in the morning to come! Hazelsky would drink in every last one of them and form her own version of how others feel about the newest addition. No cat would be silent on the topic, and juicy conversations had to be in store. A silent purr hummed in her throat, barely a gentle tickle, as the meeting ended. Glancing towards her brother, she opted to avoid to Honeywolf's war path and instead was one of the first cats into the den. Dropping gracefully down into the welcoming cushion of moss, the slim she-cat drifted off to sleep only moments after her head dropped to her paws and her tail rested over her nose.
F.r.o.s.t.p.a.w.Gender: Tom
Age: 9 moons
Rank: Apprentice
Status: Single
Mentor: Barkface
State: Not Happy
Tags: Softpaw, Robinheart
His white muzzle curled in distaste as the ragged loner was graced with a new name. A ruffian such as that scrap of fur would never meet the standards of an actual clan cat, and Frostpaw couldn't fathom why Whitestar would want an under-producing cat in their ranks. Turning his nose upwards to the side sharply, he rose to his paws before the silver tabby made the leap down from his perch, already stalking off before the last words came from the leader's maw. Tainting the clan with outsiders wasn't part of the warrior code, if anything it had to be against it in some way. Starclan would never accept loners, rogues, or kittypets as true warriors, and surely their wrath would be brought about now because of this disgrace. Pausing briefly to look back at the hiss that sounded behind him, Frostpaw couldn't help but note the strange look in Softpaw's eyes. No cat had ever looked at him like that, and the apprentice wasn't sure what the blue eyes were trying to say. Too irritated to bother thinking on it, the black patched 'paw huffed and asked, "Well, are you coming to bed or not? Starclan knows that this must just be a bad dream."
S.n.a.k.e.t.a.i.l.Gender: She-cat
Age: 22 moons
Rank: Warrior
Status: Single
State: Furious
Tags: Whitestar, Robinheart
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A yowl of protest tore from the siamese's mouth as rage bristled her pelt. Her murderous glare was switched to the silver tabby that called himself leader, a warning blazing in them. The tom had just committed a traitorous act by accepting that filth into their superior ranks. She had sprung to paws without realizing, and they were already carrying her way from the scene. She couldn't challenge the decision nor rip into the newly named 'clanmate' without severe and unjust punishment, so the seething she-cat decided to remove herself completely. How dare he think that the loner had the makings of a clan cat; he should know that all outsiders were murderers and cons, and this one was no different. The thought of sharing a den with her made Snaketail's stomach tie itself into knots, and fury driven tears threatened to spring into her eyes. No, the flame point would be spending the night out in the forest, away from the nauseating scent and indifferent clanmates. She would let the sense of betrayal and hurt fester inside, allowing the memories she tried so hard to shut away come rushing back to the front of her mind.
Pushing out of camp without a single look back, her paws carried her over the uneven ground at a rather dangerous speed. One wrong step and she'd surely wrench a paw and land her in the medicine cat's den. But the young warrior didn't care as the tears finally started streaming, and the blue eyes squeezed themselves shut in an attempt to block out the world as she ran. Sprinting blindly was something she did more often than not, a byproduct from all the heartache she refused to deal with. It wasn't until the moon had fully risen before she finally came to a halt, sides heaving as she greedily gulped down air. Ending up at the farthest point possible from camp without leaving the territory, it was no surprise that her subconscious brought her here. She needed as much distance as possible between her and the source of conflict. It didn't take long for Snaketail to find an makeshift den as the roots of a nearby tree arched in just the right way to make a space underneath the immobile giant. Slipping into the earthy burrow, she didn't bother with padding the already soft earth, instead collapsing into a heap against one of the solidly packed sides that made up the space. Exhaustion out weighed her anger, so it didn't take long for the orange-tinged eyelids to fall over the still burning orbs.
