JUST LIKE A WANDERING SPARROW — OPEN

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    WE'RE SURE TO FIND HAPPINESS — riverclan — black tom — tags
    The black tom wandered through the jungle, admiring the new sights and smells that the territory had to offer. It was so different from the concrete jungle that he lived in. It was an interesting change, but he could admit that he missed New Jersey. It was apart of him, and now he felt like something was missing from his life. So, he would do one of the few things that he could to remind of him of hometown and all the memories that he made there.

    As if to respond to the songs that the tropical birds tweeted, Frankie would sing, "Just like a wandering sparrow, one lonely soul..." His voice wasn't of mediocre quality, either. Frankie, back at home, was known for his voice and how high of a pitch he could reach. He often sang songs and played music with his brother, Jerseyboy, and he wouldn't be a musician if it weren't for him. "I walked the straight and narrow, to reach my goal..." His voice softly traveled through the trees, though he didn't bother to belt it too loud. After all, he wasn't performing for anyone. "God's gift from up above, a real unselfish love, I found in my mother's eyes..." It was "My Mother's Eyes" by Frankie Valli, the famous human that he was named after.

    hmm, you dont really have a home. shadowclan could have been called that, at one point in time, but recent events buried any feelings like those. however, despite all the bad things that now haunt your memories you suppose one good thing has come out of your time there; artpop's taste in music, elvis. when your father wasnt reading bed stories to you, he was humming presley's jingles under his breath and the deceased musician has stuck with you. youre drawn in by the man's singing voice, ears flicking up curiously as your eyes roam the area and rest neatly on frank. normally you wouldnt approach someone all on your lonesome (especially without swedishfish) but your curiousity bests your caution. "ah, hey sir!" you hum loudly, moving across the tropical shrubbery to reach the other, head tipped to one side, "you have a pretty voice! what song is that?"
    elvis depressedly ✧°. tags

    arcane didn't know frankie could sing. or that he was a musical author.

    of course, the only person he had known to be an avid singer was tunes, and he wasn't around as much as he used to be. so arc himself had gotten used to the musical voice, and actually found himself wanting to hear something like that again. something lyrical, something to make you feel something that you couldn't before, a story that had to be told.

    as he glanced around in the jungle he was wandering around in, he heard the starting tones of a song, complementary to the flamboyant birds around him, the wild forestry was like a stage for whoever was singing. he slowly stalked towards the source, as if he were hunting someone down.

    spotting frankie, he loosened up and trotted into sight, his stature bigger compared to the two felines. "i agree, it's phenomenal." he smiled, an encouraging gesture.

    Courtney was annoyed by singing or humming. Well, he was a fucking hypocrite, because Courtney sang when he was alone. He was going to comment on the singing ordeal, but Arcane had said something that caught his attention. Wow, he hasn't heard that word in a while. Phenomenal. Courtney played with the cigar in between his lips, then spoke. "Yeah. Phenomenal." Courtney sarcastically murmured upon his approach, of course staying at a distance because crowds weren't his thing.

    the crescent moon and rising sun

    Singing and music were things that Sora simply couldn't understand. What joy was there to be had from something as natural as a voice transitioning between odd pitches at weird speeds? Why did people find music so enthralling? It was just noise, no different from the clattering of his claws as he moved and the rustle of the grass below his feet.
    'It's so pretty...'
    No. No it was not.
    The griffin irritably clacked his beak and sniffed in disdain, sitting down with the rest of the sparse crowd. "Phenomenal? Maybe in another world," he remarked bitterly, tucking in his blue and gold wings. "It's no more interesting than a bird's dying squawk."


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