OUR LOVE IS GOD * o, alliance request

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[fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%]Two creatures of unfamiliar clan origin? Of course Standpaw would be the first one to stumble onto them, expression blank and eyes bored with it all. Everyday, a new face at the border. It was the opposite of refreshing- in fact, it was oddly repetitive, no matter what they had to say or what their intentions were. It was all becoming one massive blur. One boring blob of names and businesses he would only need to recall if they joined, and even then he found it all pointless. Why the fuck even ask at this point? Why not just announce why you were there in the first place? All of it would go a hell of a lot faster if they did.

Thank the fucking lord Cadence greeted the HawkClanners first. Thank the fucking lord she swooped in like Standpaw's knight in shining armor and kept him from asking that god-awful, repetitve question. Bless the girl's soul that she changed it up a little bit- added a bit of pep and a twist to it. Standpaw could feel himself liking the other already. He pressed out a relieved sigh before moving from his cover of the foliage to stand a pace behind Cadence, staring at the pair warily. Hopefully the two were here for something that could change the scene a bit- offer the clan some crazy escape from reality- maybe a party? Standpaw usually loathed them, but he really felt like getting wasted right about now. He prayed these two were allies he didn't know of yet, and were in the Rift to deliver some invitation. God, wouldn't that have been great?

[center][fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify]There has been tension between her and Cadence ever since Adelaide lost it. Ever since her emotions took the best of her and she snapped, a rubber band that had been pulled far too hard to handle. She does not like to compare herself to something as weak as a rubber band, but it comes and happens naturally and she cannot help it. There is a weight in her chest every time she sneaks a glance at the female, but she tries her hardest to push it away. She can still see the crystalline tears running down her face, and she cannot help but feel it too. She knows how those tears feel after something stings so hard, warm and almost comfortable in a sense but like the world around you is cold to your touch. Numb and they cannot hear your screaming. She knows how crying feels.

She does not repeat the question, but instead watches though not particularly friendly but more wary eyes. They are not cold, not unwelcoming but rather they are challenging as is her stare. She is not as uncomfortable around her clanmates as she formerly was, especially since she has progressively developed to clan life. There is still a pounding in her head that she tries not to notice.

So she watches, sheathing and unsheathing her claws beneath the mud and damp dirt as something to distract her from the oncoming headache. It is her only distraction.

[center][fancypost=bgcolor=;border: 0px solid white; width: 455px; text-align: justify; height: auto;font-size: 8pt; line-height: 122%; margin-top: -2px;]Mercy was right to know that she would be right behind her, even with her burn wound paining her greatly she wouldn't abandon the female to rest up a bit. No, she'd be by her side and make sure that everything went okay. The direhound couldn't allow for Mercy to get her, nor any one of her many clanmates, even with the famine taking hold of their lands. She'd fight to her very last breath and she meant that. Even if she was young she would never go down groveling or begging for her life. There was no place by Ares side if she did such a thing. Her bright vermilion hued gaze shifted over those that had already begun to show up at the border because of Mercy's presence and thus the massive female moved to her side, electricity crackling along her fur in wariness. The female was unsure of the Rift but they were a good opportunity for Hawkclan and she couldn't think of a reason as to why they couldn't work this out. So the masculine looking canine dipped her head, jaws parting on a low grunt before she sat down. "Name's Marsella and this is Mercy the Warchief of Hawkclan. We've come to talk to your leader."

[center][fancypost=width: 500px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; padding: 2px;]Natalia is the next Rifter to make an appearance in a flurry of wings and feathers - she seems to come from above the gathered creatures and lands on the earth as it shudders to receive her. The massive snow leopard cocks her head to one side in careful contemplation for dipping her head in greeting.

"Our leader will be along shortly." When she speaks, her voice is a deep rumble in her chest. She corrects her posture and plops her rump down on the ground, giving her white pelt a firm shake. Natalia decides to play nice - these people do not seem to be intruders, nor are they showing any signs of hostility. The predator offers them a kind smile, to show she means them no harm. "I trust you kept safe during your journey?"

// @CAINSMARK P.G. aka idk how tags work yet but here goes

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Milo followed behind Cainsmark, giving the Hawkclan leader and her companion a cold glare. Who thought they could waltz in here all willy nilly with no negative repercussions. He did not even care if they were here to 'discuss politics' or whatever. He just wants somewhere quiet to not have people constantly ruining his day. Hell. Even Cain himself did that. He hated the guy. But, some respect had to be given. He was his leader after all.
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[center][fancypost=bgcolor=;border: 0px solid white; width: 455px; text-align: justify; height: auto;font-size: 8pt; line-height: 122%; margin-top: -2px;]"As safe as any journey could be." The hellhound hybrid spoke with a calm tone as she gave a light nod to Natalia before she fell silent and turned her burning gaze on Mercy. When Cainsmark began to speak the female kept her jaws shut. He would either like her proposal and give them a chance or he would spurn them and send them away. Either way she wasn't going to be ill about it and she narrowed her eyes just a bit as she waited for the decision to come about. The Rift could be a large asset to Hawkclan and she would rather have them then to not have them at all or at least make a neutrality with them in some regard. Shifting the large female gave a low breath as electricity crackled along her body, a nervous energy that was starting to build up.

"What makes you think we want to be your allies?" Milo couldn't help but spit out. He was a cold, cold creature. He did not trust anyone, including his own clanmates. What gave these hawkclan fellows the right to barge into their territory with no invitation or warning and just demand alliance? Well... Demand was a strong word but thats probably what they were doing! It was all one big popularity contest. It was like high school when you did something noticeable for the first time. We're gonna talk to you to boost our own popularity! Get out of town! Milo was mad and he wanted these folks gone.

//Ic opinions, of course c:
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[center][fancypost=bgcolor=;border: 0px solid white; width: 455px; text-align: justify; height: auto;font-size: 8pt; line-height: 122%; margin-top: -2px;]Her eyes snapped down to look at Milo, muzzle curling just the slightest at the tone that he was giving them. What a little shit he was being. Her tail curled just the slightest and her pelt bristled slightly before she forced herself to calm down and not rip this cat to shreds. Hell, as hungry as she was she'd eat him if she could and not even regret it. She still to this day thought that Mercy should have let her eat at that Shadowclan vice-leader but that was besides the point here. Her eyes narrowed just a bit before she snorted and looked away from the feline. "No one is thinking that. You either will or you won't. It's optional hence why we are asking and not demanding or saying that we are." Her unusual deep sounding feminine voice spoke with a rolling growl as she pulled her ears to the side.

"With no forward warning of your appearance?" Milo growled back, giving the older a glare. The young boy sighed and puffed up, raising a snarky brow at the hellhound. Hell hound. Hell hound hell hound! Why are there so many god d*mn hell hounds?? And why are they all such stuck up social justice warriors?? He couldn't take this anymore. The boy growled, cusring under his breath. "You'd imagine you'd at least give us a warning. Back in the city you would normally "Renvevous, si'll vous plait". Which at least has a 'Hey! I'm showing up today!'". M
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[fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%]Typical. Totally fucking typical now that little Milo had decided to show up. Standpaw felt an eyebrow twitch, his expression faltering from one of apathy to one of agitation- this was too much for him to handle today. The entitled kit waltzing around and barking rude shit at others like he owned the place. Standpaw just wasn't here for it. "Well you aren't in the city anymore!" The cream feline exclaimed, as if it was a big reveal to the younger tom-cat, "And stop acting like you have a say in this- because- newsflash- you don't!" Behind his eyes, a fire raged, but the Spartan attempted to keep his face level- unlike his biting tone, "And tell me how the fuck they were supposed to forewarn us that they were coming? Huh? Do you see any cellphones? Oh- or does the 'Great and Powerful Milo' demand they send a carrier pigeon next time?" His stormy eyes were hard, and the fur along his spine had began to rise as he stared down the younger- tail lashing all the while.

ooc: ic oPINIONS && mobile

"Oh look at you!" Milo quickly snapped back at the apprentice. "Mister I hate everyone let me glare at them from the corner is here!" He threw his paws up with a growl. "Here to save the day with his sass and logic!" Seems legit. Take himself and add in an entire bottle of edge, a dash of 'oh woe is me' and a pinch of 'i hate my life' and you get Standpaw. All the moron did was spit out useless opinions. Opinions don't get anyone anywhere. "And Mister raising Cains over here has been trying to get me to speak my mind for the past month and a half so don't you even start with the 'you don't matter' bull crap! And I'm just saying a little Hi nice to meet you! Would be nice instead of a bloody We're your friends now! Deal with it! Like this dumb hell(hoe)hound is suggesting!"

//god i think you broke milo .3."
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[center][fancypost=width: 500px; font-size: 10px; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; padding: 2px;]Natalia had been about to respond to the visitors when Milo began talking and sassing - a part of the leopardess was pissed at the rude behavior towards the two guests, but another part simply wanted to fawn over the young brute and his adorably intense fits of rage. She didn't know why that was. Most mothers liked children who were compliant, submissive - Natalia found that she adored children with spunk, with a sharp tongue and ready-scorn.

"That's quite enough," she directed towards both Standpaw and Milo, aiming to gently prod at them with her massive tail. Although their debate greatly amused her, she didn't think it was necessary for their visitors to see such lack of camaraderie between Rifters. Sure, arguments were inevitable, but timing was everything.

"By all means, argue all you want - I wouldn't stop you if you did it later, but it'd be best if you not do so now," she added with a click of her tongue, aiming to place her tail between them before push came to shove. The fae looked towards Cainsmark and shrugged her broad shoulders - really, what could she do? It was highly likely that her words would go in one ear and go out the other, anyway. Such was the thing children.

// it's official milo is my h e r o

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// ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Milo teared up, ears pinned back. He had learned to fear any adult in power. He crawled on the ground like a worm from a hungry bird peering up at him from the treetop canopies. He was a fearful creature. He had his survival instincts, his fight or flight response, but overall, he normally ran. He was a not fighting creature. Milo had no reason to fight. No drive or will. He was used to being pushed around and stepped on. It did not matter if it was in the city or not. He was always going to be the doll. The broken toy that no child wanted to play with. He simply got tossed around from owner to owner, each one calling him the same names. The same gross, disgusting titles.

Worthless. Pointless. Irregular. Unimportant. Broken.

The boy turned down to his feet, his heartbeat loud in his ears. His beat red face quickly turned back to its ghostly, pale white. He reached a paw up to his ears, pushing them closer to his skull. His blue eyes scanned over the group. Up at Nat’s disappointed through slightly amused face. Up at Standpaw’s scowl. Up at the confused hawkclanners. Up at Cainsmark’s glare. He had to look up at everyone. Everyone was looking down upon him. All of the dark gray faces. So many eyes. Too many eyes…

His fur puffed up as his breathing picked up. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t run away. If he did, they would chase him. He would never live the title of the crybaby down; Standpaw made sure of this. He took a deep breath and turned to burn a hole in Cainsmark’s back. The leader that dared to apologize on his behalf, as if he was a domesticated pet that had chewed a hole into a nobel’s shoes.

No!

He growled, standing up and taking a poor fighting stance. I don’t care! We finish this conversation now! He teared up again, this time connected to the blinding rage that filled full being. Every single cell inside of him was fueled by an unquenchable, burning rage towards the leader. Towards Hawkclan. Towards the Rift. He shook his head to rid himself of the parasitic tears that dived down his face. What do you want from me, Cainsmark? he screeched out, I can’t do anything right! I can’t do anything right in your eyes! It’s always a mistake! he just wanted to do something right. He just wanted to never show his face again.

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[fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%]As Natlia's tail came down between them, Standpaw was seemingly knocked back into focus. His breath hitched as he turned away from the youth, attempting to distance himself from the anger which dirtied his thoughts and the growing tension which blossomed between them. How stupid must he have looked, arguing with some kid. Getting all riled up and spewing his thoughts so carelessly at a kitten. The disappointed look Cainsmark shot him reflected his own opinion on himself at the moment- the ivory apprentice was almost disgusted in himself for such an abrupt outburst, but like hell if he were going to express that.

The thin tom turned his head to regard Milo once more, nothing in his blue eyes reflecting the slightest regret. The wrath which had pooled into his stormy hues was calming, but a hint of agitation was still there- just waiting to flare up and out of control again. And when Milo, before Standpaw could even utter a word of disingenuous apology, continued to screech on- the unbridled rage was back, dancing wildly behind his eyes.

Standpaw couldn't take it. Standpaw couldn't take this kid- acting like it was him versus the world- acting so high and fucking mighty compared to everyone else- sulking around with his nose simultaneously buried deep in a book yet still upturned snobbishly- spitting out hushed opinions he thought no one heard. Well Standpaw did! And the cream feline knew how those little fucking comments and glances could get to people- at least he regarded others with apathy instead of hatred in his stares! At least he had the decency inside him to just fucking deal with it, because the world wasn't wrapped around anyone's finger. Life was never bent to the will of another, life wasn't always what you wanted. Sure, rage on against the things which were absolutely intolerable- but to rage on against anything and everything was foolish. Standpaw saw Milo as a fool. A bumbling fool so self-absorbed he couldn't see what others did for him was with good intent- not out of spite. The young tom did not understand why the other was so angry- what gave him the right to be so rude to others? Standpaw did not understand- he did not understand Milo because he was ignorant of his past. Ignorant of the deeper reasoning to his emotions and responses.

Just as Milo was doing, Standpaw twirled to face Cainsmark, teeth gritted in anger and eyes gone dark. "You expect me to apologize to that," His voice was no longer erratic, but now low and smooth and filled with bitterness. "Funny how you think everything's about you." He turned then, not giving the leader or the kitten another thought, before leaving. He would not care what they said or did to him as he departed, or the repercussions due to his actions, he was not stopping for them. Standpaw did not care.

ooc: i want 2 give milo a hug but im sure
me roleplAYING STAND DOESN'T HELP EXPRESS THAT
also i loVE NATALIA BEING LIKE AMUSED BY THEM LMAO

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