i wanna leave my own life behind / open, windclanner joining

  • Briarheart never imagined that she would one day want to live among those foul, fish-stinking RiverClanners but after learning the truth of her heritage, she realized they were the only family she had left. Sedgethroat, her father, had taken advantage of her mother, Turtledove, when the she-cat was a mere apprentice. The result had been Briarheart and her stillborn sister, Stormkit. But, the half-Clanners were not born in RiverClan. Turtledove had left her home and was rescued by WindClan cats. That was where Briarheart had been raised and trained as a warrior. After Sedgethroat had returned to persuade Briarheart, Briarpaw then, to join him in BloodClan, she barely escaped with her life. Her beloved mentor, Pinkeyes, had died saving her. With her only true friend gone, there was nothing for Briarheart in WindClan.

    Not wanting to venture to DarkClan to live with her father's former Clanmates, she decided that it was best to return to RiverClan, where her mother had belonged. Turtledove had never raised Briarheart, being so young then, and was residing in SkyClan, where she had run off to shortly after giving birth to her daughters. The torbie she-cat hoped she never had to see Turtledove, so she had chosen her mother's former place of residence. Maybe she'd find family here. Yet, most of all, she wanted to be connected to something familiar to her. After all, she was half-RiverClan.

    The long-furred torbie approached the border, kneading her claws nervously into the ground that was wet from the morning dew and soft from the decaying auturmn leaves. She wasn't sure how RiverClan would react to having a WindClanner on their territory, more specifically, one who wanted to join. Most Clans didn't take kindly to that, she knew. Briarheart supposed she'd have to prove herself in some way and win them over before they let her join their ranks as a RiverClan warrior. Yet, she was only twelve moons old, and her youth had much to offer the Clan. Or so she hoped. If they wouldn't take her in, she supposed she could return to WindClan. They thought she'd gone hunting anyways and wouldn't realize what she'd tried to do if she turned back.

    action / "speaking" / thoughts

    mirror, mirror on the wall

    tags ♕ based off of: regina mills from ouat ♕ played by: curlicue

  • Thunderheart was sitting in a tree,along the Riverclan and Windclan border. She wasn't there to hunt out Windclan cats who thought the could cross her border but she was there just there to enjoy the wind coming from the moor and the sun on her fur. Her blue eyes caught site of a young cat walking towards the Riverclan border. she cocked her head and sat there silently as the cat came closer.

    Friends are my power. They guide me through the darkness when my lights gone out.
  • It seemed that the border was beginning to crowd itself with the faces of strangers (some jesting, their eyes twinkling as they lazed in their wait for a passing patrol, some shy and slouched with an invisible burden, all harboring a vague sense of confusion and all shuffling, ever so slightly, with the anxiety of being forced into the position that they were currently in). To Doestar, though the almost routine occurrence of stumbling upon a new feline behind the scent line or crossing the stepping-stones of the river became somewhat toilsome in its repetitiveness, the sight of a new cat always set alight a flame of hopeful friendliness, something so core to her identity, ancient and new, and overwhelmingly turned out to be a more or less positive experience.

    The range of opinion that buzzed about within her psyche upon the subject remained quiet, however, in her initial approach of these strangers, actions that had become so familiar over the course of the seasons they almost controlled her motions without her knowing. The twitching nose, mournful honey eyes, owl-like in their wideness, calculating but not cruelly so as they darted across the scene, the gentle creep of her short legs as her striped brown body slid from the reeds into the open of the border, where the visitor could finally view her properly. She had been to enough gatherings for others to recognize her, and only the newest of apprentices would mistake her for a child nowadays. "Hello." moth wing-soft voice, rough like brittle wood. She straightened her form as she came to a halt, greeting the stranger with a twitch of her ears, though not a smile. Maybe she had forgotten, or maybe she didn't think it relevant. "Do you have any business with RiverClan?"