Posts by jackdaw!

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 440px; font: 10pt verdana; text-align: justify;]sup guys?
gunna introduce this idiot to skyclan soon

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]Tatteredpelt had only been in SkyClan for a few weeks, but his scent was already changing. The sooty smell of the thunderpath where the warrior had made his nest was nearly gone, replaced by the sweet scent of the pine and oak trees that made up SkyClan's forest. Once upon a time, SkyClan's scent had been that of an enemy, and, at times, reluctant ally, but many moons had passed since Tatteredpelt had been an aggressive RiverClanner. SkyClan was where he had made his home, if only because his children were here. They'd grown up without him, with a different father and a different mother, and although it was too late to make up on all the important marks he'd missed, he might be able to share the coming ones with his family. Besides, getting used to wearing a new scent wasn't much of a problem: StarClan knew he'd done it often enough.

The massive warrior limped steadily into the camp, a small thrush clutched between powerful jaws. Despite the change in the weather, it hadn't been too difficult to find - or perhaps life alone, fending only for himself, had made him more persistent. As he deposited the bird on the freshkill pile, he grimaced, scarred and ragged maw twisting with pain. The thrush had been on the lower branch of a tree, and while the jump might not have been a problem for a natural SkyClanner, he had in born in RiverClan, and one of his legs was bad.

Face morphing into something rather more stoic, he moved off a small way and sat down to rest his leg.

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]track

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]Some bonding time with her maternal granddad, Tatteredpelt? He was absent for most of Snowbloom's life (and Russet's as well, come to think) and feels pretty guilty about it, so maybe she can lowkey feed into that guilt?

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]Stonejaw looked confident and collected as he arranged the morning patrols. Tatteredpelt couldn't hold back a faint sigh. Stonejaw had been raised well, and that was all due to his foster parents: Tattered had been absent throughout the deputy's life. For a split second, he blinked closed his yellow eyes, trying to swallow the spike of guilt that curled through his stomach. It didn't work. He just felt tired. Even the sight of the excited kits (some of them his grandkits, as hard as that was to believe) didn't cheer him up, although it was a hard scene to witness without feeling some degree of amusement or fondness. He'd failed his own kits; did he really have the right to treat other kits with such warmth?

Shaking his head, the maine coon straightened up and marched impassively toward Stonejaw, offering the other tom a glimpse of a smile. "Do you need anyone else sent out?"

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]warrior

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]The last time Tatteredpelt had been in a nursery was when his mate was pregnant with Snowbloom and Stonejaw. He'd been one of a handful of toms who seemed to constantly hover there, or just outside the nursery, nervously waiting to see if Sedgeclaw needed anything. He hadn't even had the chance to see her kit, though: floodwaters had washed her out of the RiverClan camp, and he'd been too close to death after a confrontation with a ThunderClan warrior to even think about searching for her. He'd tried entering the nursery in both RiverClan and SkyClan's camps when he'd returned to full health, but he couldn't even get a paw in before indescribable guilt and melancholy welled up within him. He always ended up leaving as quickly as possible.

Now, as he gazed at Snowbloom and her kits (seven of them!), those familiar feelings threatened to overtake him. Snowbloom looked so content, despite the pain she'd just gone though - Sedge must have looked like that too. It was with steely determination that he padded forward, voice thick and hesitant as he murmured, "They're beautiful, Snowbloom. Congratulations."

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]imm bro
tattered over here ironically his name used to be adder too was really badly injured by a thunderclanner about a year and a half ago. maybe he can bump into adder while patrolling the border and since adder has such great self control he ends up antagonizing tattered and shit goes down?

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]woo everyone wants a piece of adderpaw

I can make. I'll try to get it up soon.

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]wasp is too sweet
when everyone's teeth fall out we'll know who to blame?

Snowbloom wrote:

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any plots or threads with snow?
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info - 12/26/16

[align=center][size=12px]actions - "speech" - thoughts[/size]

info - 12/26/16

[justify][size=11px][font=arial]GENERAL:
Littlekit > Littlepaw > Littlebloom > Snowbloom

Warrior of Traditional SkyClan | Female (She/Her pronouns)
24 moons old | Ages semi-realistically
Heteromantic Heterosexual

APPEARANCE:
Snowbloom is a domestic shorthair cat with fur that has a soft, silky texture. She has a short, petite structure. Snowbloom has four scars running across her left shoulder. The left half of her face is gone, including her left eye. Her left ear is severely torn, and she is deaf in that ear. Her tail was ripped off, and is only a stub now. The majority of her body is white, except for her stub of a tail, ear, and paws which are gray. Her one eye left is a pale, baby blue color.

SOCIAL:
● PARENTS: Tatteredpelt x Sedgeclaw (deceased)
● SIBLINGS: Stonejaw, Eveningstorm (deceased), Morningrose (deceased), Ivyfoot (deceased)

● MENTOR: n/a
● APPRENTICE: n/a

● MATE: Emberhawk
● EX-PARTNER: Sootstar
● FIRST LITTER (Emberhawk x Snowbloom):
-- Sunfeather
-- Eagleflight
-- Russetflower
● SECOND LITTER (Emberhawk x Snowbloom):
-- Stumpypaw
-- Wasppaw
-- Foxpaw
-- Owlpaw
-- Falconpaw
● THIRD LITTER (Sootstar x Snowbloom):
-- Cloudedkit
-- Briarkit
-- Hailkit
-- Pantherkit
-- Burdockkit
-- Ivykit
-- Frecklekit

● FATHER-IN-LAW: Sootstar
● STEP-MOTHER-IN-LAW: Mothdust
● EX-MOTHER-IN-LAWS: Silverwing (deceased), Doemask (deceased)
● SISTER-IN-LAW: Thrushstar

HEALTH: 100%
-- CURRENT INJURIES: none

BATTLE:
● PHYSICAL STRENGTH: [ 3/10 ]
● MENTAL STRENGTH: [ 8/10 ]

ATTACK IN [color=white]BOLD WHITE
Non-violent actions can be powerplayed.

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maybe a thread with tattered? he'll be trying way to hard to please her

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]As Goldenfang slid into the space besides him, Tatteredpelt stiffened a fraction. Despite the two weeks he'd spent in SkyClan, he still wasn't sure how to treat the other tom. He should be grateful, he knew, that the warrior had done such a fine job raising his children, but he could not deny that he was jealous. Yellow eyes meeting Goldenfang's own steady gaze, he dipped his head in return. What else was there to do?

Snowbloom's smile made his heart clench even tighter, yet he managed to work a faint smile of his own onto his ruined features. With all their injuries, they made for a lovely family, and although he wanted to believe that her kits - and Stonejaw's - would be spared such wounds, he knew better. The life of a warrior wasn't a pampered one.

Emberhawk and Snowbloom looked like they had a warm relationship. It reminded Tatteredpelt of another time, when life had looked as rosy as it must appear to the two of them now. He felt a ridiculous urge to either laugh or cry. If he kept up with this way of thinking, he'd make for a bitter elder very quickly. Nodding at Snowbloom, he edged out of the nursery - to give others room, he'd explain, if anyone seemed to care.

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]If there was one thing Tattered's hunting wasn't going, it was well. He'd already gone on a hunting patrol earlier in the day, and while a less conscientious cat might have decided that was enough, Tatteredpelt was well aware of the fact that winter had begun and the size of the freshkill pile was dwindling. Both Thrushstar and Snowblossom had kitted recently, between them producing twelve kits. The Clan could use all the extra prey he could kill.

As he walked (limped was a better word, really, as his bad leg was starting to ache again, but the massive tabby hated thinking of himself as a cripple) along, senses extended, the scent of ThunderClan flooded his nostrils, and he stiffened up. It had been more than a year ago, but he couldn't forget the ShadowClan-turned-ThunderClan warrior who'd nearly killed him and had deprived him of a life with his kits. Rage coursed through him, and with it the regret that had become his constant companion in recent moons. But what was he to do? He'd left his opponent dead. (How RiverClan had handled that he couldn't even begin to imagine.) He might still blame ThunderClan for the life he'd missed out on, but that wasn't helping him catch any prey.

With halfhearted determination, he turned back to his hunt.

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]look at how i define soon
https://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2483210.new#new

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Wasppaw wrote:

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Wasppaw of Skyclan

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hahaha Waspaw will be Skyclan's tooth fairy he will yes

ooh ohh up for an interaction sometime between Wasp and Tattered? ;V; Tattered can teach him a few battle / hunting tricks yes yes ;Vv;

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[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]Although Pantherkit got the bulky genes from both Sootstorm and Tatteredpelt, SkyClan as a whole would probably put it down to Tattered. The ebony kit's supposed father, Emberhawk, wasn't nearly large enough to account for Pantherkit's size, but through Tatteredpelt, Snoowbloom was half maine coon. His grandson's heritage, however, was not what was on the male's mind as the child bounced over.

His instinctive reaction was to explain to Pantherkit that he didn't much want to talk right now, but he couldn't bring himself to. Fate had denied him the chance to be a proper father - to be a father at all - to Stonejaw and Snowbloom. Could he really push away Pantherkit? This wasn't a chance to re-raise his children, and he had an inkling that Snowbloom wouldn't be too happy if he interfered with her parenting, but guilt prevented him refusing. Letting out a small sigh, he tried to ignore the pain in his leg and work a smile onto his badly scarred features. "Of course, Pantherkit." The cripple's gaze slid over to Briarkit as she arrived, and he amended, "Would you like to learn as well, Briarkit? After I show you, we can practice on a leaf." A mouse, he wanted to say, but with the prey shortage associated with winter, that wouldn't be responsible.

Considering Stumpypaw's size, it was hard to remember that he was an apprentice, even though he'd already been a 'paw when Tatteredpelt had met him. Meeting the younger tom's eyes, he purred, "Thanks. Have you gone hunting yet today?" If not, perhaps when his leg was feeling better he could take Stumpypaw out later.

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;] ShowJumper : hey, welcome! owl can have a thread with tattered

@Dr4m4: ooh i don't know. do you want me to ask in the help den if that sort of thing is ok? & it would be great if you made the thread

mac : welcome back! how was your trip?

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]Tatteredpelt's dreams weren't pleasant ones, and hadn't been for many moons. It seemed that as soon as he drifted off, caterwauling filled his ears and the scent of blood filled his nose. Sometimes the wars in his head were between Clans, but more often they were between him and another cat - between him and the ThunderClan warrior who had nearly killed him moons ago. He could no longer remember the warrior's face, and it changed often, mocking him. When Tatteredpelt dreamed, he never slept through the night.

For a moment, when he awoke within the darkness of the warrior's den, he didn't know where he was. The last thing he remembered was the dream fight, and so the cripple unsheathed his claws, adrenaline racing. The only sound in the den was the light breathing and occasional snore of his fellow warriors. Disoriented, he tried to calm his breathing. Was this the farm - no, SkyClan. He had to get over the past.

Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone else, he sheathed his claws and slipped outside, surprised to find that the sky was much lighter than he had expected.

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]@Dr4mr: I'll get right on it. Thanks for making the thread.
ShowJumper : Thanks, I'll reply soon.

Dawnbreeze : The mass adopts are [here] and the sign up is [here].

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]Turns out there's this thing in the trad clans about parents not mentoring their kids. Does anyone know if that applies to grandparents and their grandchildren as well?

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; bordercolor= transparent; height:; width: 430px; font: 12pt times new roman; text-align: justify;]Considering the season, it was no surprise that Tatteredpelt didn't immediately scent any other prey. As he stilled, listening for any squeaks or chips, frustration flooded through him. He'd long since gotten used to relying on prey other than fish, but he was still a RiverClanner at heart, and it frustrated him that he couldn't simply head to the river when he found nothing else. His Clanmates probably wouldn't even eat fish if he brought some back, and the brown tabby was hunting first for the Clan.

What he did smell was a ThunderClanner, and almost instantly his hackles were raised and his claws were unsheathed. Tatteredpelt didn't care what SkyClan's official policy toward ThunderClan was: he'd never trust a member of the other group. They had accepted a ShadowClan exile more than a year ago, and that exile had nearly killed him. That exile had deprived him of a life with his children. That exile had crippled him and ruined his features, and that exile was why he'd been renamed 'Tatteredpelt'. Most importantly, that exile was more than an exile: when he'd done all of that, he'd been a ThunderClan warrior.

It wasn't very hard to spot the apprentice, and once he had, the tabby made to pounce on him and hold him down. Before the injuries given to him by the exile, he'd been an intimidating warrior. His maine coon blood meant that he was bigger than most, and he'd had skill in battle, hence his former suffix of -claw. His clawed, ruined features probably only added to his intimidation factor, although the injuries he'd walked away from that disastrous fight with meant that he wasn't nearly the fighter he'd once been. He didn't care. No ThunderClanner would step on SkyClan land while he was around.

"Why did you cross the border?" Tattered snarled; evidently, he hadn't noticed the squirrel Adderpaw had killed. Whatever answer the younger cat gave, he wouldn't care about it. He was just itching for a reason to get revenge on ThunderClan, and this would be a fine one.