shark smile ;; open, joining

admittedly, nikko's sense of awareness of the world around him had dropped down a few levels ever since joining the clan. he'd been too focused on hiding himself from clanmates and avoiding getting involved with anything unnecessary that when he was by himself, he usually tended to forgot about his surroundings. he usually got lost in his own thoughts and the peace that came with being by his lonesome.

however, the intense gaze of an unfamiliar cat didn't go quite unnoticed by him, surprisingly enough. in fact, the sight was quite unnerving, and nikko had to blink twice to ensure the pair of eyes he was seeing wasn't his mind playing cruel tricks on him. he squinted hard at the cat partially obstructed by foliage, tail swaying from side to side. "... what are you doing," he asked lowly, the question coming out very blunt due to his dry, harsh voice. nikko took in the appearance of the unknown cat, racking his brain for a name to put to the tom's face. the cat didn't smell like a riverclanner, so was he a rogue?

okay, take two, he knew about the rules now and he knew that everything sucked if you didn't and a huge tom would crash into the territory and take you back to camp. that sucked, just like the rules. so the small kitten would make sure to escape when there was no one around camp to rat him out, following nikko as his own stiff tail flicked from side to side. he hated going out, but he'd do it- only for the sake of asking strangers weird questions.

he bumped against the older apprentice then, falling back on his own butt as he flailed his paws in the air for a good two seconds. oof. he didn't wanna look not cool, so falling back sucked. as crowkit rolled to the side and perked his ears, his ruby colored eyes would scan over to the other, the newcomer- and wow, wasn't he cold? "aren't you cold." he asked in his usual dull voice, eyes half lidded. "no fur cats get cold and die. especially in here. riverclan has lots of water."

good observation skills, worm-sucker. good one.

... Hairless.

Doestar never seen anything like this tom, not even among the cats of twolegplace and their outlandish appearances. Watching them wander about the dens, fat but still leaping from fence to fence, cricketlike in the shimmering sunlight, from across the river. The she-cat, rounded brown head tilting slightly as she halted beside her Clanmates, examined him with a level of awe that shone plainly in her wide honey eyes. This spectacle distracted her so that it only registered that Crowkit was out of camp several long moments after the stranger finished speaking. Still, she decided to act upon this breach of the kit's safety later. Highly contagious. The sarcasm was dry and quite visible to most others. Her jaw dropped, and she immediately maneuvered to separate the young cats from this clearly ill individual. "Contagious?"

*:･ﾟ✦ another one. Silverfoot was ready to put on her signature snarl. she was ready to shoo this cat away like she did with everyone else - the loners and kittypets and other assortment of riff-raff that decided to trash up the territory. she was so ready to finally get rid of the pest and -

instead of striking a commanding figure as she approached, silverfoot's was instead punctuated by a laugh. an actual, snorting guffaw erupted from her maw as she realized what this newcomer was saying. he admitted to trespassing, at least almost, but -

"oh, dear. did this family of mushrooms happen to give you your contagion?"

was that flirting? was she actively encouraging conversation from an outsider? did anybody know that silverfoot was capable of niceties?

*:･ﾟ✦ "tragically short. i am silverfoot. are you wishing to join riverclan?" the she-cat asked, drawing herself up to her full height.

Ew, get that blob-fish away from his sight. It was ugly, clearly something born from the depths of hell itself. Larkthroat made no attempt to hide his disgust, scrunching his nose and furrowing his murkly hues as he looked at the hairless feline. Cats weren't meant to be hairless, it was simply a mistake in the genetic code - much like Larkthroat's narcissistic mindset. His eyes wandered swiftly over the tom's frame, noting the protruding bones and muscles beneath the wrinkled flesh. At least, he thought, it would be easy to notice anything wrong on the feline. As no one had yet to reply to the male's interest in joining, Larkthroat found that he'd have to actually be of use in this case. "Charmed," he drawled, rolling his eyes as he came closer. Although he suspected that the male was of kittypet descent, he smelt like a loner. It led him to believe that the male must of had kittypet heritage (as it was often the twolegs who bred such putrid specimen) but grew up in the wild. After all, it wouldn't take merely a few days for the scent of twolegs to disappear and the male didn't appear to be heavily injured so it was clear he knew how to look after himself.

"Unless things 'ave changed around 'ere, joinin's are usually overlooked by Doey - uh - Doestar o'er there," he said, using his tail to point towards the fem. "Y'sure 'bout joinin' though? Although you'll ge' company and support, prey and 'erbs ain' so easy to ge' righ' now. If you stay as a loner, y'wouldn' 'ave to share your ca'ches." He cast the tom a skeptical glance. He was testing the tom, checking to see his loyalties. Most cats who joined usually didn't grasp the concept of the clan's system as quickly as he'd have liked. Well, it wasn't as if Larkthroat could say anything. He was clanborn and still didn't wait for the weak to eat first.