Stars V.2 • Catvent

[Moonlight heavens]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id:Moonlight Heavens 985452
↬ clan archive:Tribe Of Hissing Waters

↬ word count: n/a
↬ prompt:

For BasiliskStar, the essence of home emanates from the heart of the murky swamp, where shadows dance with secrets, and the symphony of frogs and rustling leaves forms a familiar lullaby. The scent of swamp mud, mingled with the pheromones of her clan, creates a unique aroma that whispers of safety and belonging.

In the eerie glow of the swamp's bioluminescence, BasiliskStar feels at home. The dim light highlights the intricate marbling of her fur, turning her into a shadowy queen ruling over the secrets hidden within the tangled roots and dark waters. The symphony of swamp sounds, the cool breeze rustling through the twisted branches, and the occasional splash of unseen creatures collectively form the harmonious melody that serenades her home.

As she navigates through the treacherous terrain, BasiliskStar is reminded that home isn't just a physical place; it's a connection to the creatures, the shadows, and the untamed beauty that make the Tribe of Hissing Waters a formidable force in the heart of the swamp. The murky waters hold the echoes of her leadership, the silent whispers of the swamp guiding her every step, and the warmth of belonging that makes this wild expanse truly home.

[Adamented]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: adamented + 670289
↬ clan archive: [x] Gladewood

↬ word count: 106 words
↬ prompt:



Being from a nomadic group, it's not familiarity of places, people, or things that make Maata remember where she started, where she's been, and where she's gone. It's the familiar habitual tasks that occupied every moment of her life in the lifestyle she held before, keeping busy even during times of rest when the Wanderers set up camp after a long days hike. When the finely carved wooden needle slips through thick canvas and she pulls it tight, in that tension- the thrumming vibration through the embroidery thread, she can create that feeling again that she only found on the path she walked with the Wanderers.

[Archaeopteryx.]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: Archaeopteryx. 334452
↬ clan archive: Enurian

↬ word count: 259 words
↬ prompt:


The soft gray sky was a comforting shawl overhead. Every day, the clouds roiled gently overhead, new patterns always forming in the gray like the glimmering specks of sediment in the mud under her paws, carried along by the floodwaters tracing down from the Southernslopes. The clouds always gathered at the base of the Southernslopes, and Quicksnare always knew without looking that past the cloud layer the sky was starkly blue, crisp periwinkle and cold as the snow that never fell. She didn't have to check. That was how she lived for the first forty seasons of her life.

Every day in the Floodplains was a comfort, and she reveled in the small comforts now. Routine soothed her mind. Every day, she would awake to the dark and small walls of her cabin, fixed with her own two paws and turned into a safe haven. The world would still be a dark, still purple when she left, shivering against the cold and going into the grove to check on her livestock, listening to their familiar warbling and feeding them the scraps saved up from the day before. The days were always hers, beyond caring for her livestock she could do any task she assigned herself. Beyond the occasional lost traveler, her neighbor stopping by for one odd thing or another, or his pesky son trying to steal one odd thing or another—the days were hers.

Entirely different from her first home, the bustle and always being in charge and never having anything for herself and—

....This was home.

[feverish]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: satosugu + 762494
↬ clan archive: strife corrino

↬ word count: 381 words
↬ prompt: the life of an outlaw is not one to take lightly.

when one thinks of "home", their mind probably conjures up a location, a house, typically- but being an outlaw means that you are deprived of that luxury and given, in its place, a dangerous amount of freedom. some take this freedom in stride, twisting it to fit their ideals and build up their bounties, yet others struggle with their lack of a place that they can safely and assuredly call their home. it's not easy to have no settlements to call your hometown, to not have a mother and a childhood neighborhood to run back to when times get tough, but outlaws shrug it off their shoulders. they have to, after all, lest they fall victim to the throes of loss.

that being said: halaya finch makes do with her "home".

a gambler known widely as "lady luck" due to her seemingly never-ending supply of winnings, halaya is a tough she-cat who isn't afraid to grab the bull by the horns. being an outlaw means growing a hard shell to protect yourself, and halaya has done just that; like many others in her clan, she has tossed aside woeful emotions and buried them deep beneath her heart, locked away ad infinitum. and though she isn't one to be soft, and it isn't exactly the ideal living situation, miss finch finds that her home is with her clan- no matter where they may be- and she wouldn't trade it for all the "homes" in strife corrino. she may not be the most eloquent cat, but halaya is wickedly intelligent and adaptable, able to settle just about anywhere so long as she's got the roanokes by her side.

halaya loves her clanmates the way one would love their family, and she finds that she doesn't need stability in a physical place when she has them by her side. when she thinks of 'home', she thinks of them, of the people that took her in when there was no light at the end of her tunnel, when there was nothing but those emotions that she now keeps so hidden; and while they may come back to bite her one day, halaya finch is certain of one thing: the roanokes will have her back.

[polaris.]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: jay. + 688591
↬ clan archive: the aurora borealis

↬ word count: 157 words
↬ prompt: the one thing that reminds clementinesong of home the most has to be the snow. the aurora borealis' territory is situated in a location that has snow a majority of the time throughout the year, making it extremely close to home to her. while other cats may dislike the snow she has grown rather fond of it, always feeling at peace when the fresh snowfall starts up again after a period of time without it. sure, the winters can bring harsher times upon the clan, but they are able to work through that. nothing beats the fresh smell of snow painted across the territory, untouched and ready to explore. she enjoyed running through the fresh snow as a kit and still enjoys that pleasure as an adult, regardless of how "kit-like" the others in the clan may accuse her of being akin to. their words don't bother her, she is at peace and comforted by the snow.

[jpano96]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: jpano96 + 250999
↬ clan archive: Cloud Clan

↬ word count: 205
↬ prompt: Some cats are tasked with diplomacy with other clans and commonly travel far from home to visit these places and ensure peace and cooperation. Even when these new places are full of fantastical treats and unforgettable sights, cloud clan cats always look forward to coming home. Home where their family eagerly awaits them, kits to show them the newest tricks they've learned. Friends who will ask them all sorts of questions about their trip, saving them a spot next to them in the food den.

Panther Tuft had transferred from warrior to scout years ago when he was recruited into the diplomacy position. No stranger to battle, Panther Tuft knew firsthand what was worth fighting for. When he started to travel outside clan borders, he learned there was more to discover than he thought possible. Wondrous places, tasty new prey, and lovely cats. However, each time he leaves the clan, he immediately longs for home, and no matter how long he's gone, there is an immediate sense of comfort and relief crossing into the clan's territory, especially when he is greeted warmly by his clan members, expectantly awaiting his safe return.

For cloud clan cats, home is where you always have a place to return.

[Thani]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: Thani 509675
↬ clan archive: Central Realms

↬ word count: 208 words
↬ prompt:

The Dralian court was holding their annual wintersday feast, and the kitchen inside the castle walls was buzzing with excitement.
Cakes, stacked up as far as the eye could see. Vegetables from the garden chopped up and releasing their fragrace throughout the halls. Tens of cooks running around preparing for the busiest time of the year, with Mystere at the head of it. Ever since she was injured and brought into the kitchens to work, the people respected her. Not just for the duty she had once served to the kingdom, but for her excellence in the kitchen and all things culinary. She brought along with her rugged demeanor a sense of culinary mastery that just could not be topped. Every year she would make this soup that was to die for. Fresh vegetables and spices, and a bit of a secret ingredient she was careful not to let anyone know about. This soup was a staple for the kingdoms coldest months. However before it was enjoyed by the masses, it was just a simple soup, enjoyed by Mystere and her father..in a small little hut out the outskirts of the kingdoms walls. It would always remind her of those times. It would always remind her of home.

[feather ']

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: feather ' + 979911
↬ clan archive: xxx

↬ word count: 8 words
↬ prompt: snuggling against a fire reminds him of home! <33

[Baobabel]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: Baobabel 39277
↬ clan archive: SecludedGlade

↬ word count: 336 words
↬ prompt: Home is hard for Massasauga to pin down in words. They wandered alone for so long, looking for a place that felt right. While they loved their mom and siblings, the tragedy that separated them taints the feeling and doesn't feel safe. Other cats and easy to live places didn't feel right either. So they traveled. They tried different ecosystems, a couple different clans, even living on the edge of a twoleg place but nowhere felt like a place they'd want to stay. Then they stumbled into the glade.

The glade itself immediately gave off feelings of peace and security. If Massasauga could've created the perfect space in their head, this would be it. It had several natural spaces that would make perfect dens. A ring of dense beg and brambles circled most of the glade and with a little work, could extend the rest of the way. There was a small rock cave that would stay dry. While the glade had and easy safe feeling, the surrounding area could not be described the same way. A dangerous swamp surrounded one side while a forest with dense underbrush and brambles covered the other. A thin trickling creek was right on the edge on camp, but Massasauga remembered seeing a fairly treacherous river that it likely linked up with. While the glade surprisingly only smelled of prey, they had scented fox, coyote, large cats, and snakes on the way in. Despite this, or maybe because of it, it added to the feeling of rightness.

Massasauga didn't need an easy place to live. They felt connected to the wild and thorny things. They knew the only cats that could survive in this place not only had to be physically and mentally tough but also value community in order to survive. For the first time in a long time, Massasauga started to think about having clanmates again and was actually excited at the idea. The journey was rough but they finally felt hopefully again. This would be their home.

[ArithMedic]

↬ catvent day: six

↬ username & id: ArithMedic 1064661
↬ clan archive: the Bronze Fleet

↬ word count: 188 words
↬ prompt:
Once, home would have been found in the smell of ink and paper, old or new. In the crumpling and smoothing of paper and the scritch scratch of a pen. Home would have been found in the cold, snowy winters, curled up in blankets by a roaring fireplace or in warm, salty summers, the seaside breeze tickling at her face. Now, those bring only heartache instead of reminiscence.

Now, home is found in the creak of wooden boards and the rocking of the currents. In the sour, salty spray of the sea splashing in her face. In hoots and hollers echoing deep in the night, and grunts and groans filling the air the next morning. In the clashing of blades and the gnashing of teeth, spitting foul words and names at her enemies, and in jovial meals that fill the nose with a pleasant aroma that nearly fills your stomach just by smelling it.

Now, home is even found in empty stomachs and illness, surrounded by fellows who know your pain. At Mist Seeker's home, there is no real emptiness or illness when you are together through it.