BREAK FREE | O, JOINING

[align=center][size=3][font=segoe ui light]DREAM YOUR DREAM[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border-top: 0px solid black; border-left: 0px solid black; border-right: 0px solid black; border-bottom: 1px solid white; font-family: georgia; color: lightskyblue; margin-top: -11px; font-size: 11pt; width: 389px]▫ cause when you awake, your nightmare awaits ▫[/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 375px;][justify]

I was a scarred man. Wore my body art with pride. There was always a story behind every silvery etching that lay upon the pinkish canvas of my skin and beneath my pathetic layer of fur. One, right nearly between my legs was from an ambush and a fight I had lost. Another was on my left ass-cheek from some bastard who'd stabbed me—stabbed—I mean, what kind of person stabs another in the butt while in a fight? Whatever. I won that one.

It ran deeper than the skin. My very soul was shattered and splintering like lines in crystals, my core was fatally fractured by my growing up too fast (my feet still too small to fit the shoes I wore). Finally, the mechanical clicking of my feet bit through the air as I casually forced myself to the border.

"Oh...I thought someone had called earlier," I [i]knew someone had called earlier but my general laziness was never to be disturbed,"So, howdy! Harley...welcome to this place. Call me Frightfur Seraphim." I would say I try not to stare at her unnerving happy smile and the abundance of macabre scarring that covered her dark body, but that would be a straight lie, so I stared to my heart's content. Wondering. Because I want to believe someone with so many scars would be shaped by them like I have been but to what extent I do not know.

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Just a puppet on a lonely string
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The cougar padded over, internally cringing at the female's appearance. But he was trying to appear more friendly, so he didn't comment on it, instead simply dipping his head to the female and greeted, "Yes, welcome to ColouredClan. I'm Kageyama Tobio." He shot Frightfur a glance, wondering how the other male was but not saying anything to him. Tobio hadn't seen the Captain in a while, so he'd been worrying just a bit about Frightfur.

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♚ The feathered dragon was next to approach, a look of curiosity plastered on his face as he did so. The newcomer seemed familiar, as if he had seem her before, but he knew in all honesty, he knew nothing about the youth. He seated himself next to Frightfur, smiling slightly. "Hello, and welcome to ColouredClan, I am Flighttaken, and if you need anything, come find me, you hear?"

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[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=none; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; width: 370px;font-size:8pt;line-height: 130%;][justify]Scars, huh? Nighttales had to contemplate the meaning behind each of his wounds. Perhaps, a few aged nicks and cuts here and there were meaningless. It wasn't something that he brandished with pride, nor did he feel particularly ashamed of. They were just.. there. They were faded, though - scars from his days as an apprentice faded by layers of time and growth. Scars from his childhood had been erased through a prompt death and rebirth. Though, perhaps the clearest scar his vessel had to offer, was the remnants of the gash that his fiancee - or the demon whom had taken over his fiancee - had left behind, by skewering him with her spear. It had been a rather.. abrupt moment, though he held no hard feelings again Eun, and he would have never been able to hold a grudge against Spec.

Scars were interesting things. He wouldn't call them trophies, nor would he have called them decorations. Calling them a trophy would give them too much merit. Calling them a decoration would demean them. They were present, but they didn't define a person. They gave people a first impression, sure, but scars were simply parts of a surface. A scarred mind, perhaps, was completely different. Slight fluctuations in nature, or large blotches of memories or mistakes engraved into musings of the past - like stains - like scars. They were a little more difficult to see; to perceive. You always had to peel beneath the brittle surface, when it came to the much more revealing wounds that a person had happened to carry from their life thus far. It was always a heftier task, but with far more truthful results. Nighttales was relatively scarless, in comparison to many others, but that didn't say much for the scars whom he had branded upon other people - upon those important to him.

Nighttales would approach after Flight, offering the newcomer a brisk nod. A blithe smirk would traverse his suave features, and he'd part his jaws to greet the other with words, instead of expressions. "Welcome to the clan, Harley. I'm Nighttales Xerses; is there anything I could do to help you get settled in?" The Commander would ask, rather glad to help where he could, if there was anything in particular that was bothering her, or if there were any nagging questions tugging at her thoughts, currently.

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 450px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 130%; margin-top: -8px]Derrick wasn't sure he would be able to stand her voice, but he was there anyway to give her a nice, warm welcoming to the clan. "Yep, welcome to ColouredClan..." he said, his still healing paw kept off the ground giving him an awkward limp before he stopped near his clanmates.

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[sub]☾ She seemed like a plucky character--despite the scars all over her body. They reminded her of Dimitri's, and she was surprised to see Harley so cheerful after suffering so much. Grey wasn't judgmental when it came to scars. Others had visible ones; hers just happened to be inside.

"Hello, welcome to ColoredClan," She greeted politely, "My name's Greymatter."

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The small point kitten peeked around his mother's leg, having followed along after her to the border, and leered at the new joiner with his narrowed mismatched eyes; curious.
"I'm Mudkit!" He pipped up cheerfully, small tail swishing behind him as he ventured forward from where he crouched under Greymatter to approached the new female, both blue and brown hues washing over the mutilated creatures form.
"What'd ya do to get all of those? You should talk to my mama 'bout them! She's a healer!" As far as he was concerned his mother was a magician and could fix anything.
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[sub]☾ Greymatter gave a faint smile at her son's words. He still so naive about the world and how it worked. Grey herself wondered how much she had been like him as a kit. She was starting to remember her childhood more clearly but it was like a camera lens. Zooming in and out to fast to allow the lens to focus on the subject.

Now she saw through Harley's facade. She pretended everything was happy and swell even when it wasn't. She was like a circus clown, distracting others with her jokes.

"I'm afraid there's some things that I can't heal," She said softly to Mudkit, reaffirming the femme's words.

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