Posts by Sumacpaw

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px;][justify]It started as what seemed like a pretty damn average day for Salome. Looking back now, the patched ginger tabby recognized all the signs she missed at the time: a nervous, jittery edge to the morning's proceedings; no cooing or affection or treats from her owners; a clipped tone when they finally called for her. The realization hit her a little too late, sitting in the ditch on the side of the highway in a quivering, stunned heap: her owners had just abandoned her.

Several long minutes passed, and Sollie's heartbeat eventually returned to something like normal. There was a raw, miserable ache in her chest, competing with her physical injuries for her attention. The pads of her delicate paws and her left side stung from her fresh abrasions, and one of her paws had twisted when she landed--the joint was stiffening now, sending painful twinges up her leg every time she tentatively tried to put weight on it. She had never experienced pain like this, wanted to hunker down and wail like a young kitten, but she felt vulnerable and exposed here, especially without the familiar weight of her collar around her neck. After a few tries, each accompanied by pathetic whimpering and mewling, she managed to haul herself out of the ditch using her three good paws.

Sheltered by the trees and underbrush bordering the road, Sollie took one last look at the road before turning tail and hobbling further into the trees. She wasn't really sure where she was headed--the only fully-formed thought in her mind was getting away from the noise of the road and the site of her abandonment. That left the unfamiliar forest as her only option, so she limped on.

She couldn't have been a very attractive sight, with gravel caught up in her disheveled tabby and white fur and blood drying around the worst of her scrapes, but she was too absorbed with staying upright to pay attention. It wasn't until she was surrounded by the strong, almost overpowering scent of feral cats--some sort of border--that she froze, ears flat against her skull as she dropped into a nervous, teetering three-legged crouch. She peered into the undergrowth around her, half-expecting cats to skulk out of the shadows as she watched. A subconscious voice reminded her that it was possible she was delirious--from pain, from exhaustion, from shock. Her entire body trembled, and she finally gave in and sank to the ground nearly on top of the border she had just discovered, her breath coming in heavy pants.

OOC: I hope this is okay--I'm exhausted, so I'm not really sure right now.[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px;][justify]The scenario Sollie had imagined hadn't actually been too far from reality after all; the two cats before her had approached much more quietly than she had--how was it even possible to make such little noise in a forest, of all places? She scrambled up to sit on her haunches instead of peering helplessly at the strangers from the ground, defensively holding her sprained forepaw near her chest as she shifted.

Once she was sure she wasn't going to topple right back over, Sollie realized the pair were talking to her. They had both mentioned someone named Thrushmumble--what a weird name, she thought--the calico had asked for Sollie's name and called her a kittypet, whatever that was, and the white tom wanted to know what had happened to her. "I'm Salome," she answered belatedly as her thoughts finally fell into some semblance of order. "Sollie works too, though. And I actually prefer it. I'm sorry for just showing up at your… scent-line, or whatever, I didn't realize anyone lived out here. I was just… well, abandoned, I guess. So I started walking. Or limping, technically, but you know what I mean. And now I'm here." She ducked her head, her ears flattening embarrassedly again as she avoided eye contact with the other two. "This was all very unexpected."

OOC: Thanks! c:[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Was twoleg the name these feral cats had given her owners and others like them? Sollie filed this information away for later--at least the name was logical. "I don't know what a DarkClan is," she admitted, hoping to buy herself time to think about the strange tom's offer. She figured that Cherrystar must be the name of whoever was in charge of the DarkClan, though the two-word names these cats seemed to have for everything still weren't making sense to her.

Sollie adjusted, shifting her weight as much as she could to try to ease some of her discomfort as she considered her options. Ashpaw was right: she had been abandoned. It hadn't been an accident, or even unplanned--and even if her owners did want her back, she wouldn't have the first idea of which way to go. These two seemed fairly well-off, especially compared to the strays she'd occasionally glimpsed skulking around her former home. "What would I have to do? Is there an interview, or a test, or something? I don't really know how to do… anything." She paused and reconsidered. "Well actually, sometimes I can catch the goldfish in the pond in my owners'… oh, I mean my twolegs', backyard."[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]"Well, it wasn't by choice," Sollie replied pointedly. Crashing through an unfamiliar forest with a sprained paw and a fresh collection of cuts and scrapes certainly wasn't her idea of fun. Her brief moment of sarcasm faded as it clicked that this cat seemed to be in a position of authority. She quailed. Maybe this was the Cherrystar mentioned before?

His offer didn't sound like a bad deal, all things considered. A community sounded a hell of a lot safer than wandering around on her own, for practical reasons as well as Sollie's own personal fears of being alone. She hesitated for several long seconds, then finally nodded her head. "Well, you're right, I have no idea what the Dark Forest is," she began slowly, drawing out her committal for a few more seconds. "But… but I guess I'll learn. I mean, not about the Dark Forest. If that's an evil place. But about the clan. And StarClan." Now she was babbling nervously, but she wasn't quite ready to stop yet. "And--and yes, I guess I will change my name. Or let you change it. I mean, if I'm going to join you… I should probably learn to fit in. And I'm not really attached to my name, anyway. No sentimental meaning or anything."

"That all means I'd like to join, by the way. I mean, I'm sure you knew that. Or figured it out. Or--sorry, I'll hush up now."

OOC: Could her name be changed to Sumacpaw, please? c:[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]A nervous, jittery mess Sollie might be, but the tabby and white she-cat was far from clueless. She caught on to Quinn's lack of enthusiasm fairly quickly. She hesitated for a few seconds before a mischievous glint appeared in her yellow eyes. "Thank you, I guess. I mean, thank you definitely. Or—or just thank you. So… what happens now? How many other cats are in DarkClan?" she asked.[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]"Someone's going to have to fix my paw first," Sollie quickly pointed out, carefully extending the paw to make her point. She she sat up as straight as she could manage as she added, "But I'll pull my weight, once I know how."[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Hey! So my new character is in the process of joining DarkClan right now and she has a sprained paw, so she won't be able to do much for a bit, but does anyone have a warrior who could mentor her? She's pretty talkative (especially when she's nervous), curious, and she's probably going to be kind of clingy around those she's attached to (that will probably end up including her mentor).[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Would he be open to making friends with soon-to-be-Sumacpaw before disappearing from DarkClan? c:[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Dodger - That would be great! c: She's definitely going to be a bit of a brat to Quinn, at least at the beginning, though. Then she'll end up getting attached and mostly knock it off. That okay?[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Ooh, since Sumacpaw is a chatterbox too, and only a moon older than him, maybe she and Hornetkit can become friends?[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]With a quiet sigh, the newest member of DarkClan gazed around her new home. Her injured paw was still held carefully off the ground, but for the moment she was distracted from her pain. The camp was impressive, to say the least—she had been imagining something more along the lines of holes in the ground.

The ginger tabby and white she-cat padded a few steps further, eyeing the entrances of the caves and wondering which one belonged to—what had the others called him? Thrushmumble? Her new clan's naming system was still confusing to the former kittypet, but she hadn't had the opportunity to question anyone about it yet. Hopefully this Thrushmumble, whoever he was, wouldn't be bothered by her chattering and questions, because she had plenty she wanted to say and she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to hold it in.

"Um, hello? Thrushmumble? Thrushmumble!"

OOC: She has a mildly sprained forepaw and a nice little collection of minor scrapes and bruises.[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]RANK NEEDED: medicine cat
REASON: sprained paw, minor scrapes and bruises
THREAD LINK: https://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2475529.0[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]RANK: apprentice

NAME: sumacpaw
MOONS: 6 moons
GENDER: cis female
MENTOR: quinn, i believe c:

MAIN ACCOUNT LINK: click[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Awesome! c: And my dog gave me a poison sumac rash over the summer actually, lol. Dogs can't get the rash but they get the stuff on their fur and then you get it when you pat them or pick them up or whatever, it sucks omg. Anyway, the rash was awful, but I liked the word and decided to use it anyway.[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]So this was Thrushmumble. The cream tabby tom wasn't exactly what Sumacpaw had been expecting, but his rambling reminded her of her own tendencies and he seemed friendly enough. "I'm Sol—oops, I mean Sumacpaw. I'm new. I mean, obviously. Hi," the tabby and white she-cat introduced herself. She shifted carefully on her three good paws before launching into a long-winded explanation. "My owners… former owners…? They abandoned me. Tossed me out of the car. They didn't even stop all the way, just opened the door and tossed me out. I'm still not sure why. It wasn't too bad—it was grassy where I landed, but I rolled down into the ditch and messed up my paw. Then I walked for, like, a long time—a really long time, okay—and ended up here. It's been a really long day." She punctuated this statement with a wide yawn. "Oh yeah, but my eyes and ears are fine, I think. My cuts are stinging, though. They have been for a while, so they aren't as bad as they were when I first got them, but they're still not great. Well, obviously they're not great, I mean, they're cuts, so…" she trailed off with an embarrassed flicker of her ears. "So, um, what's your job here?"[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]With a curious tilt of her head, Sumacpaw inquired of Ashpaw, "Is Thrushmumble your… mentor? Or are you too old for a mentor? Or, wait, are mentors just for new cats?"

OOC: Sorry, low muse bc I'm so tired. Just drove 200 miles.[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Sumacpaw emerged tentatively from the apprentices' den just in time to catch the end of Hornetkit's story. The new apprentice approached, a few little clumps of moss still clinging to her tabby and white pelt from making up her very first nest—a pathetic attempt, in her opinion, but at least she had somewhere to sleep in her new home now.

With a flicker of her ears, Sumacpaw sat down behind Ashpaw and Cherrystar, hoping not to draw too much attention to herself. She still wasn't sure exactly where and who she was allowed to be around, but she wanted to get to know some of the other cats in the clan.[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]"Right. Okay, then," Sumacpaw replied steadily, filing away the new information with the rest of her growing knowledge regarding the clan system. "And you're in charge, right? Were you a warrior before all that?"[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 400px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]Sumacpaw immediately brightened at the sight of another cat who couldn't have been too much younger than her. "Hey there!" she chirped, but she broke off when she noticed the way Bluekit had attached himself to Cherrystar's side.

The increasingly familiar sight of her calico-pelted mentor drew her attention before her silence could become too awkward, and Sumacpaw turned uncertainly toward her mentor. "So you'll train me to become a warrior." It wasn't exactly a question, but she was looking for some sort of confirmation—and a way to judge if her initial impression that Quinn didn't exactly like her was accurate.[/justify][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=transparent; width: 500px; font-size: 8pt;][justify]With her paw still healing from its sprain, Sumacpaw found herself confined to her new clan's camp. Bored out of her mind, the young apprentice had decided to take one of the mice on the fresh-kill pile over to the nursery to see if any of the clan's kittens shared her boredom.

Pushing through the ivy that covered the nursery entrance, the ginger tabby and white she-cat limped inside. "Hey," she said, her voice muffled by the fur of the mouse she was holding, "I brought a meal, you hungry?"[/justify][/fancypost]