give us our daily bread — o, joining

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.
  • she feels old. she hates to come to terms with it, but winter is more than certain that the burden of leadership has taken its toll on her, and now she feels more exhausted than anything. stepping down from her position had been embarrassing to her, mostly because she hadnt really wanted to but her illness made her too sick to carry on her duties. when she got better she couldnt force herself to stay around any longer; she was ashamed, and living there had become more of some sort of mockery to her than anything else.

    so she left, and her travels have taken her to the home of her sister and niece— cagedprincess and iridescentkit. now, as her cobalt hues flick from left and right for signs of life, the husky lets a whisper of doubt wriggle to the forefront of her mind. what if they arent here anymore? they have to be! win thinks back with tempered annoyance. her and prin had only talked a month or so ago, she told her this is where she was staying and winter takes her sisters word for it. the girl narrows her eyes, blowing the fur that curls around her left face out of the way. "hello?" hums she, voice throaty from lack of use, and she pauses to clear it before trying again, "hello? winter schnee, wishing to join. this.. is shadowclan, correct?"

  • I'M A DEAD GIRL WALKING — WRENE — SHADOWCLAN — SHE/HER — TAGS
    Wrene had been patrolling the borders for a little while now--well, patrolling made it sound a bit too official. What she was doing was more like wandering around in hopes of finding entertainment of some kind. And, so far, she hadn't been disappointed. There seemed to be a lot of strangers on the borders today. So, it didn't surprise her at all when she heard the voice of another one.

    "Hello!" Wrene answered, trotting up to the husky and flashing a smile. "Yeah, this is Shadowclan. What else would it be? I'm Wrene, by the way. Nice to meet you and welcome."


  • Smells usually were telling but he didn't say anything since Wrene had already come forward and told her that this was the place that she was looking for. Slowly the zombie walked forward with a low grunt leaving his throat as he sat down and flexed his ice wings slightly. They were a bit stiff from disuse since it was hard to fly around in such a tightly packed jungle. His ears pulled forward as he looked at the dog before them. Hmm, he didn't know her but then again he didn't run in the same circles as everyone else. "Welcome to Shadowclan Winter. You need anything as of right now? I'm Jackdaw by the way."

  • They are all of them old, in some fashion or another. There's not much time spared for youth, as strange as that sounds; vitality, in its many forms, have expiration dates, whereas the fatigue of...age, for lack of a better word, seems endless and irreversible. The pieces lost to life's tribulations won't be regained, not without losing something else, and there are so many ways to lose, with fewer ways of winning. Vector knows this every morning, waking to the sour taste of regrets, and for a time - very recently - he was consumed by it, isolating himself completely. Clearly that is no longer true, but it has worn on him, as always, because in the wind one can only erode. Of course, he diverts his mind from such burdens, seeking distractions where he can find them, and at the present moment, the distraction manifests itself as a stranger, surrounded by several others unknown to Vector. Dropping his invisibility, the direwolf silently halts a careful distance away from the trio. "Vector. Did you come for anything else?" She sought this place out, evidently, and perhaps she has come only to join, and that asking after Jackdaw - he has only learned his name now - did has made him repetitive, but he can't swallow words after they've been spoken.