⚓ The Tribe of the Black Pearl ⚓ • Tides of Betrayal

[V.Vulpes]

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘
(rank. Surgeon's Apprentice)▶(gender/prns. Molly, She/Her)▶(age. 8 Moons)▶(tagged. Tempest / Whisper / Cherry / Shark)
─────────────────────────────────────────────────

Brambles felt like she had barely let herself stop moving since the storm ended. Which, really wasn't that different from her normal day to day dealings. But for today, if she kept working, she wouldn't have to think about what happened. But now, as Whisper's gentle voice reached her ears, telling her that every cat had been accounted for, that she had done enough, a strange, hollow feeling settled in her chest.

Enough?

Her tail twitched, uncertainty gnawing at her belly. There was always more to do. Wasn't there? She still felt the weight of the burial on her shoulders, the way the dirt had clung to her claws, the exhaustion that dragged at her limbs. She still felt the storm's lingering chill in her bones. But if Whisper said she had done enough, then... maybe she could take a break.

It was a good minute before she gave a slow nod and looked away from her mentor. But that restless energy still lingered.

Brambles hadn't even noticed Tempest walked up as she sat back on her haunches. Then she heard him speak. "Brambles did a really great job out there today with us. I don’t think we could’ve handled it without her."

Her eyes flicked up, as did her eyes, which were widened slightly. For a heartbeat, she didn't know what to do with the praise. A warmth bloomed in her chest, pushing back that chill from the storm, and she gave a small smile. "I just..." she started, then paused. What was she even trying to say? That she hadn't done that much? That it hadn't felt like enough? Instead, she dipped her head and mumbled, "Thank you, Tempest."

Whisper purred at the Captain's words, and Brambles felt that rush of pride again, even as she shuffled her paws awkwardly. Still, when her mentor motioned for her and Lightning to rest, Brambles hesitated once again. She was tired, sure, but stopping now just felt.. wrong. There were herbs to gather, tribemates to check...

But arguing wouldn't get her anywhere. So she just gave a reluctant nod and padded over to Cherry where she laid in the damp sand, her head between her paws. After a moment, she looked up at the older apprentice and mumbled, "how are you holding up?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX ( 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏 )

Brambles had barely been resting, more like staying still for the first time all day, her mind still racing even as exhaustion settled deep in her bones. The steady rhythm of camp life returning had been somewhat comforting. Debris was being moved, a patrol was heading out, and while grief still clung to the air, the tribe was moving forward again.

She had spent a good five minutes laying in the sand beside Cherry. But then that restlessness kicked in and she started squirming. She couldn't lay in the sand all day, even if Whisper told her to rest! So when Whisper called them, she was quick to scurry over, her back paws kicking up sand. "I've been resting too long, Whisper..." Brambles complained but their mentor had already turned towards tempest.

Tired of being tired and not tired enough to rest, Brambles headed into the Surgeon's den. She looked over the stock and started to organize. She needed to keep busy.

That was when Shark's voice cut through the quiet of their den. The voice startled her slightly, she was focused now! Brambles looked towards the voice, taking in his tired expression, and the way he carried himself. He was a cat who had done more than his body wanted to allow.

"Yeah, I got you," she replied, her voice quieter and slower than usual, worn from the long day. She nudged aside a few of her organized bundles before finding where she'd put the poppy seeds, carefully sorting a few out from the bunch onto a small leaf. Brambles stood and carefully padded towards Shark, making sure not to drop the little seeds off the leaf. She placed it down at his paws. "Here you are, they'll make you sleepy so make sure you find a nice nest after you take them," she said with a smile, then hesitated for a moment, and added, "are you hurt anywhere else? Or, um, need anything else?"

𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄
(rank. Sailor)▶(gender/prns. Sam, They/Them)▶(age. 17 Moons)▶(tagged. Hunting Patrol)
─────────────────────────────────────────────────

Bat had been grumpy and hurt before, but now? Now they just felt Stupid.

They had spent most of the day sulking, letting their temper do the talking instead of their paws, and for what? The tribe had kept moving without them, had done what needed to be done regardless of their attitude. Moth had barely spoken to them beyond what was necessary, and Snarl's jab sat uncomfortably in their chest, lingering like saltwater in an open wound. And Bat hated it.

So when Snarl called for a hunting patrol, this time Bat didn't hesitate. They pushed themself to their paws, rolling their aching shoulders (that branch really was heavy, they could still feel it) before padding after the others. They didn't complain this time, didn't drag their paws or make some snide remark. But they didn't speak either. They just followed, slipping into step behind the patrol without a word.

Their orange eyes flicked briefly to Moth, then away. A feeling of guilt bubbled into their throat. They shouldn't have been so rude when the tribe went through a tragedy. Too late now. 'What a sorry excuse for a tribemate I am' was all they thought.

Bat's ears flicked forward as they moved deeper into the jungle. They couldn't change how they had acted earlier but they weren't about to start groveling at any cat's paws over it. But they could hunt and provide. And that was exactly what they planned to do.

Snarl had already taken down a seagull as Bat even had this thought. Honestly, Bat was quite impressed despite themself. Snarl made things look easy. Bat watched as Snarl and the others focused on the gulls. It was a good catch, sure, but not all of them could hunt the nestlings. As soon as they were disturbed, they'd take flight.

Instead of following, Bat broke away, padding quietly further into the undergrowth where the scent of damp earth and fresh foliage clung to the air. They opened their mouth to scent. The tang of salt from the cliffs still lingered, but beneath it, Bat picked up something smaller, more subtle. Mouse.

They stilled into a crouch. Their paws may be large but they were quiet as they shifted forward, careful not to disturb the loose leaves and twigs underfoot. Their sharp eyes scanned the base of a thick tree, one with gnarled roots that were exposed. That's where movement caught their attention, a mouse was sat underneath with a seed in it's paws.

Bat sank into their crouch, letting their weight balance evenly before inching closer. They could remember the voice of Tempest in their ears correcting every wrong muscle placement. But now, they were a refined hunter and when they pounced it was quick and clean.

[Spiritstar3]

Shadow Of Burning Fire- f- 48 moons (4 y)- Maiden- scent: Lotus most likely- crush: Snarl Of Angry Dog- kits: she’ll have two- Flame of the Forest (presumed dead) x Shade of a Tree (presumed dead), Shade in the Forest- Tags: Bloom

The red and black tortoiseshell tilted her head. Noticing when Snarl looked over at her and Bloom for a moment. She’d noticed how he seemed to look at her more, linger on her. She…she must have been imagining that, she must have right? Shaking her head, she focused on the other she cat. Nodding at the other maiden, saying “Yes, it was scary…but at least it’s over now.” She purred a bit at the other maiden, reassuring sound. She then nodded a second time and said “Yes… perhaps.”

-skip-

She was still lying nearby the other she cat. She had found herself starting to doze off, and had alllowed herself to do so for a time. However, now she twitched and jerked, lifting her head back up. Blinking slowly, she watched the patrol moving out of the camp.

Snow on the Summit- m- 60 moons (5 y)- Field medic- app: Nautilus- homosexual- scent: most likely lily- crush: Tempest- mate: open- would adopt some kits, or get a surrogate- Ice in the Grass (missing), Wind on the Mountain (missing), Tempest at the Dawn- Tags: Tempest, Brambles, Strike, Wolverine

The beautiful but also somewhat handsome white cat said “You’re welcome.” He’d stopped purring as they’d moved along. However, now he began to purr quietly once more. He followed the other male back towards camp, and felt a flash of annoyance as Strike immediately approached… He wanted to tell her to give Tempest a moment. However, he didn’t, instead saying “Strike, I need to check every cat for injuries.” “Have you felt any pain or noticed any injuries from the storm?” he asked her. She might say she hadn’t, but he’d still check since she was there.

[comfypxl]

ཐིཋྀ .M O T H .O F .N I G H T S .E M B R A C E

molly . fourty-eight moons . field medic . heading to the jungle feeling stressed
tags: monkey, snarl, bat | mentions:

moth hadn't noticed snarls slowing pace until he was just in front of her, his question catching her off guard. she stiffened instinctively but the gentle tone he took caught her by surprise. she'd never known him to be soft - he was angry, guarded, a mystery wrapped in teeth and claws. she wondered briefly if he was too tired to be mad and she was seeing past his rough exterior. truthfully she had been wanting to understand him better, though it was mostly because she felt some loyalty to his father. he was a good friend and she didn't like the difficult relationship she had with his sons. she debated telling snarl the truth of her feelings but decided against it as she heard approaching pawsteps. it was hard enough finding the courage to tell him that alone - it would be impossible admitting it around others. "yes i'm,,, doing okay. just sore from earlier is all. hunting will do me some good though! stretch these bones out." she replied before monkey came bounding up.

she was grateful for monkey's presence - his eagerness to aid the tribe and learn gave her hope. sometimes she found herself wondering if she was doing a good job as his mentor but seeing how far he's come put those worries to ease. he'll be a fine sailor, she thought, noting how he'd signed up for the hunting patrol without being asked despite his hard work to clean up earlier. she purred at the apprentices talk of eating sharks, imagining with ease a bank full of them and monkey eating them one by one. truthfully she could go for a feast like that herself. she let snarl speak first, not fond of his response but nodding in understanding. she bent closer to monkey, speaking softly. "i'll make you into the best hunter around and those planks and sharks will wish they never met you," she whispered, just loud enough for snarl to hear.

as the patrol continued on, moth casted a glance to bat. he had joined them earlier but kept to himself, making no attempt to socialize. she wondered if he felt bad about earlier and honestly hoped he did. to sit around idly while the tribe is in desperate need is just,,, she didn't have words for it. still, he was here now and wasn't complaining - she could appreciate that.

her attention was dragged to snarl as he began stalking a seagull, quickly following his instructions and lowering herself. she watched with a mixture of surprise and pride as he took the bird down with ease. she knew his lack of a leg hadn't stopped him from being a formidable force but seeing it action made it feel a lot more real. "nice one," she complimented when he'd set it down.

she shot her apprentice a smile and gave him a friendly nudge, urging him on. "it's not a shark but birds are pretty tasty," she settled down and waited for them. this would be a good opportunity to check monkey's progress and see what areas might need more attention during their training.

[heresalittlefaith]

⸙ 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 ⸙
⋅>> Rank: Apprentice ⋅>> Gender/Prns: NB - They/Them ⋅>> Age: 10 moons ⋅>> Tags: Brambles, Shark

They let out a small yawn, shaking their pelt a bit as they stood up, before they padded towards the surgeon's den. They poked their head in, "Hey do you-" They shook their head a little, embarrassed to interrupt, "oh sorry I was just checking if you needed anything... have either of you eaten today?" They asked, glancing down at their paws a moment. Leaf had cuts and scrapes on them, a few splinters in their paws, but they weren't going to rest until their tribemates were all okay... They they would make sure they were okay themself.

==========================

☁︎ 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢 ☁︎
⋅>> Rank: Boatswain ⋅>> Gender/Prns: Tom - He/Him ⋅>> Age: 51 moons ⋅>> Tags: Bloom, Shadow

Shaking his pelt he leapt down and made his way over to the fresh kill pile, grabbing off two small birds as he made his way over to the two maidens. He dropped the birds in between them and dipped his head in greeting, "Shadow, Bloom, you both should eat something. You're carrying our future, we need to make sure you're well taken care of... especially in trying times like this." He said softly and genuinely. Dark had always had a soft spot for the maidens of the tribe, both those who raised him and those currently were maidens.

[lacke]

xx

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫

location: campxx mood: tired xx tags: tempest

she watched her captain carefully as he replied, taking note of the tiredness she caught on the end of his words. she moved to sit next to the tom, allowing her fur to gently brush against his, hoping it might help him relax. she listened as he spoke, and followed his gaze as he looked along the horizon. there was a moment of silence between them, and although whisper wished it were a calm one, both of them were tingling with anxiety. as tempest turned to look at her, she offered a small smile at his praise, dipping her head. truthfully she felt as though she could be doing more - she could've attended the burial, she could have helped move the wreckage... however, she could tell he was being sincere.

tempest swung his head around to look at her, and she tilted her head slightly as he began his inquiry. whisper laid her ears back, and sadly shook her head. he brought up something she hadn't even thought about... arcadia. she truthfully didn't think about her often, but the fact that many clanmates believed in arcadia so strongly... she shook her head as tempest gently called out to the young apprentice. whisper followed his gaze, eyeing the small molly, a twinge of sympathy coursing through her.

tempest turned back to her, and whisper let out a small sigh. "i haven't heard anything from her." she admitted quietly, before glancing up at the sky. "it is kind of worrying. she's never not reached out when something major happens," she admitted, much to her own dismay. as much as she didnt trust arcadia, she did have a good track record of warning of disasters... whisper shook her head. "i haven't seen anything from her either." she mumured, before glancing towards tempest. "i can ask to share dreams with her tonight, but i'm not sure she's listening." she mewed in a hushed tone.

xx

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦

location: campxx mood: tired xx tags: shadow, dark

bloom watched quietly as dark padded over to her and shadow, dropping two small birds in front of them. "thank you dark, we really appreciate it." she purred quietly, sitting up and curling her tail at her side. she reached to paw at the bird, before glancing up at the tom. "if you don't mind me asking... how are you doing?" she asked quietly with a tilt of her head. she pulled the bird closer to her, planning to pawn it off once the tom left.

xx

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤

location: campxx mood: tired, hurting xx tags: brambles, bloom, leaf

shark nodded quietly as the surgeon apprentice gathered the herbs, pawing the dirt as she set the leaf down. "thank you, brambles." he murmured, before shaking his head. "my old bones just don't hold up like they used to!" he exclaimed, though a faint hint of exhaustion slipped through. just as he was about to reach down to lap them up, another voice echoed at the entrance to the den. it was leaf, who looked somewhat shocked to see him there. shark shook his head. "i'm good, but do get these two apprentices some prey, will ya?" shark asked, although it seemed more like a... command?

with that, he reached down to pick up the leaf as gently as he could, before blinking his thanks to the apprentices again, before stepping out of the den. he stood outside of the surgeons den for a few heartbeats, debating if he wanted to rest outside of the ship or just face it and go into the retirees den. he flicked his nub of a tail before deciding to turn out of the ship, padding slowly back into the clearing. he huddled down somewhat near the ship, placing the leaf down in front of him.

[winx]

tᥱmρᥱst────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
( eighty-four moons old ✧ tom ✧ captain ✧ pansexual ✧ location: camp ✧ tags: whisper )

Tempest felt a small flicker of warmth when Whisper settled beside him, the subtle touch of her fur against his offering a brief moment of comfort. He appreciated her presence more than she likely knew, especially now, when the weight of leadership felt heavier than ever. He watched her closely as she absorbed his words, the faint tension in her body mirroring his own. They were both carrying their own burdens, though neither spoke them aloud.

Her soft response to his praise didn’t go unnoticed. Tempest knew she was more than capable, yet he understood that self-doubt often had its own grip on those who cared deeply. He’d seen it in so many of the tribe's finest. He hoped she'd let herself rest, even if she felt like she could do more.

Arcadia was a beacon for the tribe, a source of comfort and guidance, always there in their darkest moments. The idea that she hadn’t spoken to them, that she wasn’t offering guidance in the aftermath of such chaos, made Tempest’s heart tighten. His green eyes flickered toward the sky as Whisper spoke, a twinge of worry tugging at him.

"I understand your worries, but I can’t believe that she’s just… absent." His voice was quieter now, as though speaking the words aloud might make them true. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for them, lurking just beyond what they could see or understand. He swallowed hard, pushing the thought away for now. "But if something’s wrong, if she’s not reaching out, I can’t help but wonder if perhaps she’s waiting for us to reach a certain point… or for something else to align. If there’s a way to understand what’s happening, I trust you'll find it.” His gaze softened as he gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"You should get some rest, Whisper," he said after a moment, a hint of firmness slipping into his voice. "You’ve been working non-stop, and you need your strength." His words were meant to be comforting, though there was a quiet urgency underneath them. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but for now, all he could do was hold onto the hope that Arcadia would answer in time. He gave a grateful dip of his head toward Whisper, a silent acknowledgment of her presence and support. Without another word, he leaped toward the ship’s deck, claws sinking into the damp wood, sending a familiar chill down his spine.

He descended into the great hall, passing by familiar faces with nothing more than a curt nod, his mind focused on the task ahead. The journey through the ship felt like walking through a dream, each step heavier than the last as he made his way to the captain's quarters. The vast, luxurious room, filled with silks and exotic treasures, offered no comfort now. It felt cold, distant, almost foreign.

When he finally reached the room, Tempest slumped onto the nearest seat, closing his eyes for a moment, allowing his mind to briefly drift. Yet, sleep was a distant memory—his thoughts wouldn’t allow it. He began to mentally sift through names, faces, ranks. If something were to happen to him, the lieutenant would need to be ready to take charge. The thought lingered uneasily, unsettling his stomach. He wasn’t invincible. He had a few lives left, but even those could slip away faster than expected. He rubbed his eyes, the weight of his decision pressing on him like a stone in his chest.

His stomach twisted, empty from the lack of food. Snarl’s hunting party still hadn’t returned, and without them, the camp hadn’t been fed. His thoughts, scattered as they were, turned toward the uncertainty ahead. He could only hope he made the right choice when the time came.

Sleep finally overtook him, though it was restless and uneasy. His body twitched in the throes of a disturbed slumber, his mind plunging into the chaos of REM, a world of swirling confusion, danger, and uncertainty.

- timeskip for sleep, will wait till hunting and/or border patrols come back before posting the gathering announcement -

sɴᴀʀʟ────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
( sixty-seven moons old ✧ tom ✧ sailor ✧ demisexual ✧ location: jungle patrol ✧ tags: moth, monkey, bat + any others on patrol)

Moth’s compliment was a pleasant surprise, and Snarl gave a small dip of his head, acknowledging her words with a grunt.

Snarl kept his focus on the ridge where the birds were nesting, the quiet rustle of the jungle around them punctuated by the rhythmic hum of nature. His ears flicked back as Bat, silent and determined, slipped away from the patrol and into the underbrush. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see them focus on something in the undergrowth, their movements smooth and purposeful.

The sight made Snarl’s lip twitch, a rare flicker of approval showing on his gruff face. It was clear Bat had more in them than their earlier temper suggested. They were trying, and that mattered more than anything right now.

As the younger cat crouched and took off with impressive speed, Snarl could only nod to himself. There was a time to teach and a time to step back. Today, Bat had learned enough to prove their worth in silence.

“Nice catch,” Snarl murmured, his voice thick with respect.

Snarl gave a brief, curt nod to both Moth and Monkey, his silent signal that he intended to branch off from the group, allowing the mentor and apprentice some space to work together. A flicker of satisfaction passed over him as he watched them, recognizing the bond between them. Moth had a steady hand when it came to shaping Monkey into the hunter he would one day become, and Snarl was content to let them share this time to refine their skills.

His senses sharpened as a faint, salty tang hit the air—the unmistakable scent of the sea was drifting upward from below, carried on the breeze. The spray from the rapids crashed against the cliffside, sending a fine mist into the air that dampened his whiskers. Snarl's eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze downward, the sheer drop below him offering little more than the crashing roar of the water below.

He took a breath, shifting his weight and finding his balance on the uneven rock beneath his paws. Despite his missing leg, Snarl moved with practiced precision, carefully choosing where to place each paw. The loss of his limb had forced him to become more deliberate, more focused with every step. He knew the path well enough, having made this climb many times before, but today it felt more important than ever. His goal was clear: he was heading for the sea bird nests, a steady source of protein for the tribe. The eggs there were especially vital for the queens, whose growing litters would need all the nourishment they could get.

Every step down the cliffside required his full attention. The sharp rocks and the gusts of wind didn’t help his balance, but Snarl was no stranger to challenges. The salt of the air, the roar of the rapids below, and the distant cries of the seabirds filled his senses, grounding him as he carefully descended. His eyes flicked over the terrain, calculating the best route. Each movement was intentional, a dance of skill learned over moons of experience.

Soon, he reached the ledge where the seabirds had set up their nests. His eyes scanned the area—several large nests were scattered along the cliffside, perched precariously just above the white-capped waves. The seabirds had already started to stir, their squawks of warning cutting through the air. Snarl grinned, knowing he'd need to work quickly and efficiently before the gulls could mob him.

Moving with practiced speed, Snarl reached one of the first nests and carefully peered inside. There, nestled among the dry sea grass, were several large, speckled eggs, their smooth shells glistening in the sun. Snarl’s heart quickened in excitement. He swiped one with a swift, precise movement, cradling it gently in his mouth before moving to the next nest. A sharp, angry cry rang out above him as one of the gulls noticed the intrusion.

With a growl, Snarl darted his head upward just as the first gull swooped toward him, its talons outstretched. The bird’s beak snapped dangerously close to his face, but Snarl was quick, twisting his body to the side and using his three remaining legs to lunge out of the way. He lashed out with his claws, slashing at the gull's feathers, and the bird let out a screech of fury before flapping away in retreat.

“Not today,” Snarl muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. He grabbed two more eggs, swiftly dodging a second gull's dive toward him. This one wasn’t going to back off so easily, its sharp beak cutting through the air toward his shoulder. Snarl’s ears flattened as he braced himself. He couldn’t afford to lose these eggs.

With a quick flick of his tail, he propelled himself forward, using his back leg to launch himself upward and out of the gull's range. The bird missed, and Snarl took his chance, swiping down with his claws and knocking the aggressive gull away, sending it tumbling into the wind. He quickly grabbed the remaining eggs and backed away from the nests, just in time for the next wave of gulls to take to the air.

Snarl made his way back up the cliff, moving with the same deliberate pace. His body was tense from the fight, but the satisfaction of securing the eggs was enough to fuel him. He could feel the sting of the gull’s talons where they had grazed his skin, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. One of the eggs cracked slightly in his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to spill its contents. It would still feed the tribe.

As he neared the top of the cliff, he spared a glance back down at the nests, watching as the gulls circled above in frustration. The patrol would be waiting for him soon. With his haul of eggs secured, Snarl turned his attention back to the jungle, the familiar scent of the underbrush guiding him back to Moth, Monkey, Bat, and the others.

𝓁𝒾𝓁𝓎────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
( eighteen moons old ✧ molly ✧ rogue ✧ bisexual ✧ location: near the beach north of sunning rocks ✧ tags: open )

The cool, salty water of Turtle Bay lapped against Lily's sleek fur as she swam effortlessly, the stream-fed muscles of her legs propelling her forward with grace. Her green eyes gleamed in the fading light, sharp and calculating as she scanned the coastline ahead. There was a bit of a chill in the evening air, but the soft breeze carried with it the scent of the ocean and distant earth, soothing the rogue she-cat as she neared the shore.

Behind her, a handful of other rogues swam alongside, some struggling against the current more than others. Their chatter was low, but Lily could hear them over the sound of the waves crashing in the distance. They’d been out in the water for hours, moving quietly, away from the eyes of the tribe. This wasn’t their first trip, and it wouldn’t be their last.

As the group neared the shoreline, Lily felt the familiar tug of the sand beneath her paws. With a graceful flick of her tail, she guided herself to the shallows, the water parting around her sleek frame. Her paws sank into the sand, the warmth of the earth a stark contrast to the cold of the water that still clung to her coat.

The rogues began to follow her lead, dragging themselves onto the shore. They didn’t linger long, but Lily, as always, took her time. She knew the importance of each step. Her green eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the familiar stretch of coastline that sat north of the sunning rocks.

"The sun’s fading fast. We don’t want to be out here once it’s fully dark" she purred, her voice soft but purposeful.

The rogues around her murmured in agreement, shaking their pelts dry as they followed her lead. Lily turned her head north-east, stepping lightly onto the sandy beach and padding with quiet determination. The wind whispered through her fur, and her whiskers twitched as she caught the scent of fresh herbs on the air. It was quiet here—peaceful, almost. Perfect for whatever was to come next.

Her sharp eyes flicked to the others, making sure they were all following her lead, but her mind wasn’t on them. Instead, she focused on the path ahead, her thoughts already turning to the tribe. It wouldn’t be long before her path would intersect with a patrol. She’d been careful, waiting for the right moment to present itself. Tonight, she would find her way in.

"Let’s not keep them waiting, hm?" she murmured under her breath, her green eyes glinting with quiet amusement as she continued walking, unaware of the events that were about to unfold.

[ienrir]

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥
Monkey that Swings on Vines
a p p r e n t i c e
t o m
e i g h t m o o n s
◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢

[ｔａｇｇｅｄ：Moth, Snarl, Bat + Patrol. ] [ ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ：Hunting Patrol. ] [ ｍｏｏｄ：fired up!]

Snarl’s gruff teasing about the shark made the apprentice’s whiskers twitch with amusement. The older tom was everything he admired: strong, scarred, a little scary in that cool, battle-hardened way. The fact that Snarl had even noticed his struggle with the plank earlier made his fur puff with pride- as though the dead wood had been an opponent worth noticing. His ears pricked when Moth leaned in close, her whispered promise settling warmly in his chest. 'I'll make you into the best hunter around...' And he believed her- not just because he wanted to, but because she believed it.

As Snarl instructed them to stay low, Monkey pressed his belly to the ground. He crept across the rocks with slow, deliberate steps; aware of how his paws occasionally kicked up dirt like oversized flippers. Do fish ever wish they could walk? The thought drifted in, unbidden. If they had legs, would they just flop around on land like this? Pat-pat-pat- He could almost hear it, the ridiculous sound of a fish slapping its fins against the grass. The mental image nearly made him snort, but he bit his tongue, forcing himself to focus.

Snarl's sudden movement shook him from his thoughts. The older tom leaped, muscles coiling and releasing in one fluid motion. Despite missing a leg, he landed with effortless grace, his claws hooking the bird mid-flight. Monkey gawked, then managed to pick his jaw up from the jungle floor.

“Whoa,” he breathed, scrambling forward as Snarl set the seagull down. “That was amazing- I mean, I knew you were strong, but that was-” He cut himself off, realizing Moth was nudging him forward. Right. His turn. He straightened, excitement buzzing through his paws. The first time they’d hunted gulls together, he’d been too loud, too eager, sending them scattering before he’d even gotten close. He could still remember the way his stomach had dropped, how he’d glanced at Moth, expecting disappointment, only to find her patient as ever, telling him how to do better. Now, he just wanted her to see that he could do it.

Eagerly, he scanned the ridge. There- a smaller gull, preening on a rock, completely unaware. He dropped into a crouch, creeping low. But his tail swayed high, brushing against the undergrowth with an audible rustle. The instant he heard it, Monkey winced. Right! The tail! He'd had this drilled into him before: Keep it still, keep it level. He quickly tucked his tail lower, steadying himself. He inched closer, paws light, then, without thinking, threw himself into a lunge.

His leap was a little too enthusiastic, launching him nearly two tail-lengths into the air. Midway, he could already see the seagull had spotted him. Time seemed to slow as its feathers twitched, its bright eye staring through him. He splayed his claws wide, reaching as if willing the prey to fly right into his paws. Too late. With a strong beat of its wings, it lifted off the ground.

“Wait-” Monkey floundered mid-air, paws swiping desperately. At the last second, his claws snagged the gull’s leg, yanking them both into a whirlwind of feathers and flailing limbs. They tumbled in a chaotic mess, but he didn’t let go. Scrambling upright, he pinned the bird beneath his paws, chest heaving. Then, eyes bright with excitement, he looked up at Moth.

“Next time, I’ll do better.” His voice was breathless but sure. Pressing a paw firmly over his catch, he beamed. “You’ll show me how, right?”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________



________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥
Lightning Striking the Sea
s a i l o r
s h e - c a t
n i n e t y m o o n s
◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢

[ｔａｇｇｅｄ：shark. ] [ａ p p ｒｅｎｔｉｃ ｅ：leaf. ] [ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ：camp.]

Her body ached from the day’s work, a deep, familiar throb that settled into her bones. But Lightning carried herself as she always did. Poised and steady. Like the storm hadn’t touched her at all. She let her gaze sweep the camp, searching for a familiar figure. But she couldn't immediately catch sight of Murmur amongst the bustle of clan life. She let out a slow breath, forcing the tension from her shoulders. Her daughter was strong. She would cope. She always had.

A flicker of movement snapped her to the present. Her apprentice, Leaf, slipping into camp- light on their paws, hoping to go unnoticed. Like they’d been somewhere they definitely shouldn’t have. Lightning went still, except for a brisk lash of her tail. The jungle was unforgiving. One stroke of bad luck, and it would swallow you whole. No apprentice should be there alone without permission. Leaf knew that. Something twisted deep in her chest. She was moons younger again, watching her daughter's broken body carried into camp. The memory rattled her, and her paws moved before she could stop them.

“Leaf—” Her voice was sharp, but she caught herself, watching them disappear into the vines that covered the surgeons den. The hardness in her gaze softened. Leaf had made it back. Reckless, foolish-but fine. Arcadia had tested them enough for one day. The reprimand could wait.

Her paws carried her forward without direction as she scanned the wreckage. The camp had been a battlefield of splintered wood, seaweed, and debris, though most of it was cleared. Still, the storm always left things behind. A pale glint caught her eye, half-buried in sand and tangled seaweed. She crouched, brushing it aside to reveal a large, jagged shark’s tooth, its edges worn smooth by time and tide. A sign? She huffed softly. If so, it figured the spirits would leave it buried. Always speaking in riddles, Ocean, my old friend.

Lightning had no gift for hearing Arcadia’s voice like the surgeons did. She had spent her life chasing meaning in wind and waves, but the spirits were tricksters. They took, they gave- but never said why. She sighed, scanning the camp until her gaze found Bite of Unyielding Shark, hunched near the ship’s hull, herbs at his paws. Moving with her usual grace, she padded over, sank beside him, and set the tooth in the sand without a word.

"Looks like Arcadia’s got a sense of humour," she mused after a moment, voice light but edged with something unreadable. "I ask them for a sign, and they send me to a shark. Maybe they think you have all the answers.” She didn’t expect warmth from him- never had. But it was easier, sitting beside another older cat, someone who knew what it was like to carry a storm in your bones. Easier than thinking about everything else.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

[Spiritstar3]

Shadow Of Burning Fire- f- 48 moons (4 y)- Maiden- scent: Lotus most likely- crush: Snarl Of Angry Dog- kits: she’ll have two- Flame of the Forest (presumed dead) x Shade of a Tree (presumed dead), Shade in the Forest- Tags: Bloom

The red and black tortoiseshell looked over to Snow for a moment. She saw him looking annoyed when Strike seemed to ignore him…She shook her head, and turned back to Bloom. She asked “Have you had any pains, or did you get hurt at all during the storm?” Snow was probably trying to check the other cats. She decided to ask Bloom, so if she needed medical attention Snow could do his job. She looked to Dark as well. Saying “Thank you; do you have any injuries or pains from the storm last night?” she then asked him as well.

Snow on the Summit- m- 60 moons (5 y)- Field medic- app: Nautilus- homosexual- scent: most likely lily- crush: Tempest- mate: open- would adopt some kits, or get a surrogate- Ice in the Grass (missing), Wind on the Mountain (missing), Tempest at the Dawn- Tags: X

The beautiful but also somewhat handsome white cat -he got ignored, so I’m going to leave him until the skip-

[rybka]

⚓ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇼​​🇸​ ( gunner . 67 moons . ) ( in camp, gonna head out ; stoic & determined )─────────────────────────────



tagged: sailors in camp mentions: hunting patrol, briefly; tempest, a lot; strike, moth, whisper


As the sky paled into evening hues and the camp was sufficiently clear of debris, Jaws decided to allow himself a bit of a breather. He wasn't signing off for the night, far from it ─ this was but a brief period of standby between tasks. He’d learned all about overworking himself and pushing limits in his youth, and followed the lessons experience had taught him as best he could. Skipping out on rest felt noble, but it was a stupid thing to do. So when tireless Snarl built his hunting patrol and set out into the jungle, Jaws saw the volunteers off with a nod of approval, and hung back. These cats were plenty capable by themselves: Moth was just about a model tribemate, it was good to see Bat do something useful, and Monkey's go-big-or-go-home attitude boded well for hunting patrols, considering that he opted to go big every single time. And, of course, his brother was surely a staple in every seagull's nightmares. Yes, Jaws trusted them. Besides, there was something he intended to do here in camp.

He chose a spot up on the stern, where he could easily keep an eye on the tribe's goings-on. A few conversations could be heard around camp, but he didn’t try to eavesdrop; as long as it all seemed to be the normal chat and idle gossip, Jaws didn’t care what anyone was talking about, it just made for some nice ambiance, and it was useful to at least see who was awake. The gunner often preferred watching over his tribemates from a distance over directly engaging with them ─ his social battery could only handle so much. After a storm, there was always a scenic sunset. Jaws watched the sun gleam between painterly clouds, felt it mocking him. As if the beauty was any sort of apology for what the disaster had taken from them.

Ever since he'd broken out of survival mode, his thoughts hadn't left the lieutenant. That tom would often accompany him not only in moments of crisis, but also during his cat-watching evenings like this, right here... The emptiness he left behind was gaping, uncomfortable. Jaws chanced sidelong glances at where Tempest stood, nearly hidden at the far end of camp, seeming deep in conversation with Whisper. In truth, Jaws really wanted to talk to Tempest, too. The new lieutenant, the cat that would step in to make this emptiness lighter, would need to be chosen before dawn. The weight of the decision lay with the captain, but Jaws had a bit of a stake in this too, and he yearned to know where Tempest's head was at. Jaws even had a pair of cats he was quietly rooting for: for one thing, he could see Strike doing well in the position. It was also just a nice thought, having his best friend be an important figure in the tribe and work alongside him. Perhaps that was favouritism, but Jaws didn't see it that way, not when she’d earned his regard through her own hard work and numerous accomplishments. On the other paw, he couldn't deny that Moth had been a standout presence in camp as of late. Her initiative, as well as her ability to navigate hardships with both skill and kindness, didn't go unnoticed. And, well, it would be a helpful to have a cat who excelled in emotional intelligence. Seemed like she had more expertise in that area than himself and Tempest combined.

Jaws wouldn't get to have an audience with his captain tonight, though. When the large dark tom finally passed him by, the look he offered the gunner spoke for him ─ here was a cat that wanted to be left alone. A pity, but Jaws could understand him. From the break of dawn, Tempest had been on his feet, his attention constantly demanded by someone or something. At some point, of course he'd need a spot of time and space to process things and form his own decisions. Jaws would grant his silent request.

The leadership of the tribe functioned like a multi-headed beast: when one head rested, the other was most alert. The brief chance to rest, and Whisper's strengthening herbs, had helped him back on his feet, but what really got him going was the restlessness of a plan not carried out. Since he wasn’t going to discuss tribe matters with Tempest, waiting on the stern became less appealling; he’d make himself useful another way. He gave the camp another brief once over. They had cleared the camp well, a hunting patrol was out, Whisper had ensured him earlier that the herb storage was not an immediate concern. All in all, the tribe was fine, but... vulnerable. A border patrol would be apt right now. Nothing too intensive, of course; the last thing everyone needed was to overexert themselves in this state. However, it was important to ascertain that no suspicious business had sprouted up in the territory during the chaos, and to leave a message that the tribe wasn’t letting their guard down, not now, not ever.

"Sailors!" He stood up tall and called to his tribe, allowing a moment for their attention to find him. “We're doing a quick border patrol. I know we’re all tired and hungry, but we have to keep the tribe safe. Let no cat or creature think we’re a pushover.”

[heresalittlefaith]

⸙ 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 ⸙
⋅>> Rank: Apprentice ⋅>> Gender/Prns: NB - They/Them ⋅>> Age: 10 moons ⋅>> Tags: Brambles, Shark

They let out a small yawn, shaking their pelt a bit as they stood up, before they padded towards the surgeon's den. They poked their head in, "Hey do you-" They shook their head a little, embarrassed to interrupt, "oh sorry I was just checking if you needed anything... have either of you eaten today?" They asked, glancing down at their paws a moment. Leaf had cuts and scrapes on them, a few splinters in their paws, but they weren't going to rest until their tribemates were all okay... They they would make sure they were okay themself.

==========================

☁︎ 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢 ☁︎
⋅>> Rank: Boatswain ⋅>> Gender/Prns: Tom - He/Him ⋅>> Age: 51 moons ⋅>> Tags: Bloom, Shadow

"I'm okay Bloom, don't you worry about me, I'm tough." Dark smiled at the she-cat, setting down as he wrapped his tail over his paws. He shook his head in response to Shadow, "I'm alright, I wasn't hurt so I don't need to be checked out." He told her with a soft smile. The tom looked exhausted and he definitely was moving with a slight limp, but the Boatswain was putting his tribemates first. He could deal with bruises and bumps and scrapes. "There's other cats who need it far more than I do."

==========================

⸙ ʀɪᴘᴘʟᴇ ɪɴ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ⸙
⋅>> Rank: Rogue⋅>> Gender/Prns: Tom - He/Him ⋅>> Age: 10 moons ⋅>> Tags: Lily

The young tom slipped up beside Lily, keeping his head down for the moment. "Lily are you sure about this? I mean... I've lived with them, I know what they're like." He said softly, his ears back a little. He didn't want the older cat to think he doubted her but he was worried. The Tribe was fierce, there was no doubt about that, but also... he did admittedly worry about Leaf, not that he'd ever admit it. His sibling was dead to him, but the thought in the back of his mind that something bad could happen to them still haunted him. They were blood and they always shared that bond... His fur bristled as he turned and snapped at one of the other rogues who bumped into him, before he turned his attention back to Lily.