[Katara]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the

PYRE OF YOUR
enemies

clover

clovermask.

NIGHTCLAN WARRIOR // 28 MOONS

T

hese days, these wonderful days, Clovermask often woke from dreams full of a TreeClan warrior, hallucinating her scent when she rose from sleep. Because of it, Shrikesong was usually the first thing she thought of when she opened her eyes, and it was the sort of secret she intended to keep entirely to herself, forever. For better or for worse, her thoughts swam with plans of meeting with her again, wanting to bask in the glow of satisfaction that the warmth of her company brought. The NightClan warrior had been assigned to the evening patrol, but she'd said she would meet Shrikesong at the border after sunhigh, so she'd had trouble falling asleep at dawn.

She eventually emerged from the warriors' den just before sunhigh, settling into the weary gait of a cat haunted by nightmares. By now, she was earning sympathy among her fellow warriors for her predicament of not being able to stay asleep; she'd always had vivid dreams, and had been told by denmates in the past she often twitched and seemed restless when she slept, so it wasn't an excuse that came out of nowhere. She'd thought it would be much more difficult than this to convince her Clanmates that she needed to leave camp to clear her head after her 'nightmares', but they'd accepted it without question. Their lack of concern and questions about her motives would forever allude her, still unable to understand the ties that bound her Clan together didn't just consist of living in the same home and abiding by the warrior code.

When she let her tail-tip drag slightly on the cave floor, she thought she must be overdoing it, but the warrior guarding the camp entrance just shot her an understanding look as she followed the motions of the character Clovermask had been playing for several seasons now - the she-cat who felt slightly embarrassed of her predicament, unable to meet others' eyes when she had to roam the territory for a breather every quarter-moon or so, just to clear her head. Every guard that had ever been posted at the entrance while she left camp during the day had given her the same look of sympathetic understanding that seemed to say, Do what you need to do. I won't mention it. Because they never brought it up afterward, a gesture for which she made sure she expressed relief for when she saw them next.

Once she'd left camp, she picked up her pace, and eventually bounded through the pine forest of NightClan's territory. It was brighter than usual today, especially for Leaf-fall, and the forest was alive with the scents and sounds of life. It was a day that seemed more like Greenleaf than Leaf-fall, that was for sure. Clovermask paused to catch a squirrel near an area that was swampier, and then found a frog immediately after that was just begging to be caught. She dispatched it and dropped it near a tree, brushing pine needles over it to conceal its scent as much as she could so she could fetch it later. The squirrel she picked up in her jaws, and made her way toward the TreeClan border with her tail high. She and Shrikesong could share it.

Clovermask dropped her offering just over the scent markers, and paused for a moment, lashing her tail with mischief as she retreated back into her own territory, whisking behind the pine trees that offered her sparse cover. She doubted Shrikesong would fall for it, since she definitely recognized her scent quite well by now, but it was meant to be a playful trick anyway. The young warrior sank into the shadows, eagerly awaiting the silver bengal to arrive so she could ambush her.

[attr="class","cltag"]tagged Phoenix

[attr="class","clnotes"]notes :DDD

[newclass=".cltag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".clnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]

[Phoenix]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

remember me, love, when i'm

REBORN AS THE
shrike

to your sharp
and glorious thorn

shrike

shrikesong.

TREECLAN WARRIOR // 40 MOONS

S

hrikesong had never been a good liar. That she had managed to keep her meetings with Clovermask a secret thus far could be attributed more to her clan’s trust in her than any particular skill of her own. Occasionally, guilt weighed down her heart as she thought of their clandestine conversations along the border (especially when she watched Darkscar’s face closed off in the way it did when he was disappointed but tried not to show it), but it wasn’t as if it were illegal to have friends in other clans. Just frowned upon. A lot. At the thought, Shrikesong’s lips quirked downward. She didn’t particularly enjoy refusing the well-meant company of a handsome tom who wanted to join her on her “hunting patrols”, but neither could she leave Clovermask waiting all by herself. The NightClan she-cat was her friend, too, and besides, there would be plenty of other mornings to hunt with Darkscar. Plenty of other mornings.

(In her mind’s eye, she saw Badgerbite snickering at her and mentally told him to shut up. As far as her nosy brother could consider himself concerned, she did not like Darkscar like that; she just thought he was easy on the eyes and had a nice smile and maybe was possibly partial to being the one who put it here. That was all. He could wipe that smirk off his face, thank you very much.)

Shaking herself as she stepped through the undergrowth, the elegant she-cat pushed thoughts of the TreeClan toms from her mind. Today was a Clovermask day. She knew she was one of the only cats – if not the only cat – the other she-cat had in her life who would truly support her, so Shrikesong wanted to make sure she was present and able to do that to the best of her ability every time they met. And she couldn’t do that if her mind was back in TreeClan’s camp with her brother and other friends. As her thoughts turned toward the NightClan she-cat, she could not deny the warm anticipation that bubbled up in her chest. Once again, she found herself idly picturing what might have been had the two of them been born in the same clan. Their friendship wouldn’t have to be shrouded in such secrecy, each she-cat sneaking away from her camp like lovers coming together for their next tryst.

Now it was her turn to snicker. Clovermask, wonderful she-cat though she was, did not seem like the kind of cat who would easily find a mate or be a particularly romantic lover. She had an underlying steel to her, a heart surrounded by walls that had been carefully constructed during a painful childhood, and while Shrikesong had experienced firsthand just how generous the NightClan warrior could be, she did not doubt that she was an exceptional case. No, matters of the heart were more Shrikesong’s area of expertise (she shushed her mental image of Badgerbite again) – though perhaps one day, Clovermask would find a nice tom to settle down with. StarClan knew she deserved a little more love in her life.

A squirrel lay practically on top of the border, looking altogether too unassuming in a way that immediately had the TreeClan warrior’s ears peeled for any sign of a trap. Then she caught a familiar scent on the wind and the tension in her shoulders eased. Clovermask. The other she-cat had an impish streak that Shrikesong found rather adorable – it reminded her of a younger apprentice, and she liked that, with her, Clovermask could now indulge in the playfulness that had been sorely lacking from her youth – and more often than not, the white bengal allowed herself to be the “unsuspecting” victim of her lighthearted pranks. Darkscar wasn’t the only cat she enjoyed seeing smile, even at her own expense.

“Wow,” She said aloud, poorly feigning ignorance as she approached the piece of fresh-kill. “Must be my lucky day. Here I am starving and I find a squirrel conveniently right in front of me. I was supposed to meet a friend, but I don't think she's here yet. Guess this squirrel is just for me.”

[attr="class","shtag"]tagged Katara

[attr="class","shnotes"]notes let the fun begin!

[newclass=".shtag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#33536a;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".shnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#33536a;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]

[Katara]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the

PYRE OF YOUR
enemies

clover

clovermask.

NIGHTCLAN WARRIOR // 28 MOONS

N

ever before, in her memory, had Clovermask allowed herself to be harmlessly playful with another cat. Even as a kit, she'd never felt the desire to poke fun with her denmates, and certainly never as an apprentice either. Her idea of fun usually consisted of a joke only she seemed to find funny, and she constantly felt as though nobody could take a joke. After she'd learned other cats had a 'line' they wouldn't cross when it came to mischief, she had to force herself to stay on the correct side of the line.

But with Shrikesong, she didn't feel the same restraint. She was very much aware that there was still a 'line' that existed, and Clovermask was very careful not to even come near it for fear the silver bengal wouldn't look at her the same... but she did speak more freely with her than with any of her Clanmates, and amusing Shrikesong was one of the few simple delights the NightClan warrior cherished in her life.

Her heart leaped as she caught movement at the border, and the TreeClan warrior stepped into sight, her posture stiff with alarm as she found the squirrel on her territory. Clovermask was still low in the undergrowth, but speedily moved to the shelter of a pine closer to the border, and then the next one, missing the moment when Shrikesong recognized her scent and relaxed her stance. She paused, however, when she heard her voice, and was at first incredibly pleased she had so effectively fooled her friend, until she detected the sarcasm in her tone. Unable to help herself, the young warrior snorted in laughter, effectively ruining her surprise ambush, but she did it anyway.

"Mrrrrow!" She flew out from the cover of the pine tree, but hadn't aimed very well (though she hadn't been trying very hard, after breaking her cover), and instead landed a few tail-lengths away from Shrikesong. She dipped neatly into a roll to close the remaining distance, batting her paws lightly against the she-cat's legs, reaching out a forepaw to catch her tail-tip. "That's what you get for even thinking about feasting without me!" She nipped at her tail-tip before bouncing to her paws, her own tail high with happiness. "I swear my stalking technique is better than that, you'll just have to take my word for it - or the squirrel's." Her whiskers twitched, smug with herself.

[attr="class","cltag"]tagged Phoenix

[attr="class","clnotes"]notes wholesome!!!

[newclass=".cltag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".clnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]

[Phoenix]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

remember me, love, when i'm

REBORN AS THE
shrike

to your sharp
and glorious thorn

shrike

shrikesong.

TREECLAN WARRIOR // 40 MOONS

A

snort from the undergrowth just in front of her and across the border was the only warning Shrikesong had before a spotted brown she-cat leaped toward her with a playful imitation of the battle cries that usually passed between their clans. Clovermask emerged from the cover of an old pine tree, green eyes glinting, and instinct had Shrikesong ducking to the side with a startled shriek (though the bite of the piercing noise was tempered by the same warmth that colored the NightClan warrior’s paltry echo of a battle cry) before she realized that she need not have moved. For all her skill in battle, the younger she-cat had missed the TreeClan warrior by tail-lengths in one of the laziest attempts at an ambush that Shrikesong had ever seen. Belied by the glitter of amusement in her bright blue eyes, she struggled to keep a straight face as Clovermask rolled toward her, forepaws batting lightly at pale legs before switching to target her flicking tail.

Now it was Shrikesong’s turn to snort – and once that particularly undignified noise escaped her, she could no longer hold back the rest of her amusement. Her attempt at a straight face dissolved into a fit of giggles, and she barely felt playful nip at the tip of her tail before Clovermask bounced to her paws. “Oh yes, you definitely showed me, fierce warrior,” She chortled, reaching around with her tail to bop her friend on the nose. Feigned remorse dripping from every word, Shrikesong continued dramatically, “I shall never eat again without you, Clovermask! If I was a few tail-lengths away, I don’t know how I would have survived such a scary attack!” A pause as she composed herself, and then: “Are you sure that squirrel didn’t just lie down and wait for you to kill it?”

The playful teasing was accompanied by a warm smile and soft purr, and the TreeClan warrior was secure in her belief that her friend would understand the light banter for what it was. They both knew that Shrikesong knew just how competent Clovermask was at fighting – it was how they had met, after all – and the former trusted that that mutual understanding would prevent her gentle mocking from truly wounding the NightClan warrior’s pride.

“It’s good to see you again, Clovermask,” Shrikesong mewed fondly, stepping forward to touch her nose lightly to Clovermask’s cheek before turning her attention to the piece of fresh kill at their paws. “And very kind of you to bring some food. Come on – let’s eat, and you can tell me how you’ve been doing.” Her mind strayed to the Gathering last season, where the family of foxes that had been tormenting the valley had attacked all of the clans on what was supposed to be a peaceful night. Shrikesong had not been in attendance that night, but she had seen the wounds on the survivors who had borne back the bodies of the dead. TreeClan had suffered three losses – luckily none of her family or close friends – but an insidious worry nevertheless ate away at her for days until she managed to hear through the grapevine that Clovermask had not been among NightClan’s dead.

Shrikesong shuddered and pushed the memory from her mind. She did not want to think about what might have happened had she lost one of her best friends that night.

[attr="class","shtag"]tagged Katara

[attr="class","shnotes"]notes why are they so cute

[newclass=".shtag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#33536a;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".shnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#33536a;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]

[Katara]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

if i was born as a blackthorn tree
i'd wanna be held by you, felled by you
fuel the

PYRE OF YOUR
enemies

clover

clovermask.

NIGHTCLAN WARRIOR // 28 MOONS

I

f Clovermask had been younger, when she'd been quite unable to interpret the reactions of others, she might've been put off by Shrikesong's laughter, and the teasing that followed it. But the older she-cat had become something of a tutor to her (whether she knew it or not) when it came to acting the right way with others - especially acting like a friend. At the beginning of their friendship, Shrikesong had been patient with her, explaining her light teasing from time-to-time wasn't a sincere critique of her. Her need to defend herself didn't rise up now like it once had, though she still playfully retorted, "Oh, I had you for a moment!" Shrikesong's tail-tip flicked her nose, and she backtracked. "Okay, half a second," she allowed, rolling her eyes at the admittance. "Still, I'd be more careful with your tongue, or this might be the last meal I catch for you." Her eyes danced at the older she-cat.

It's good to see you again, Clovermask. Shrikesong briefly touched her cheek, and for a moment her scent swirled around the NightClan warrior. This was what it felt like she lived for. The affection of someone she trusted - the only one she trusted. She didn't care that she could only see Shrikesong once or twice a moon, if she were lucky; getting to see her again made it entirely worth the wait. If only she'd been born in NightClan too, then she might just feel this whole all the time. "It's good to see you too," she mewed. "I didn't get to go to the last Gathering." Though Clovermask tried her best to be a model warrior these days for the opportunity to be chosen to go to the Gathering, she couldn't always be chosen. She'd been a bit disappointed she'd missed the excitement when she'd heard about the fox attack. Luckily, her wrong reaction had been missed this time, mistaken for grief over the apprentice they'd mourned that night. She had left the vigil to go to sleep as early as was appropriate, unable to relate to the horror and sorrow among her Clanmates that early morning. It was moments like those she wanted to see Shrikesong the most, when she felt so distant from others she felt a strange emptiness threatening to swallow her... only the TreeClan warrior's understanding seemed to help.

She took a bite of the squirrel, chewing thoughtfully. "What did you think of what happened at the last Gathering? You weren't there, were you?" Her eyes flickered along Shrikesong's pelt, looking for any new, healing injuries. But there were none. If she had been, Clovermask might have dared to joke that she'd attracted them there given how their first meeting had occurred. "That's been the most exciting thing that's happened in the last moon or so - though, our nursery has a few new kits. Briarthroat hinted that Foxstar might be thinking about me mentoring one of them." Her eyes gleamed. She was long overdue for her first apprentice, and had been impatient to have one for several moons now. She'd tried not to make her interest as obvious as other cats, who seemed to hover near the nursery to express their interest in mentoring one of the kits, but maybe she'd been too aloof. She outright avoided the nursery most nights. "When did you get your first apprentice?" she asked Shrikesong curiously.

[attr="class","cltag"]tagged Phoenix

[attr="class","clnotes"]notes <3

[newclass=".cltag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".clnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#3e4436;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]

[Phoenix]

[googlefont=Playfair Display] [googlefont=Roboto] [googlefont=Kumar One]

remember me, love, when i'm

REBORN AS THE
shrike

to your sharp
and glorious thorn

shrike

shrikesong.

TREECLAN WARRIOR // 40 MOONS

Y

ou’d let me starve?” Shrikesong’s mouth fell open as she did her best impression of an elder who had just been told that the fresh-kill pile did not have any voles, and no, the apprentice delivering the subpar would not go out and catch one specifically for her. “I thought we were friends, Clovermask,” She huffed. “Clearly I was wrong.” Closing her eyes, she turned her head away from the she-cat before her, but she couldn’t stop her lips from twitching upward with barely concealed laughter.

As they exchanged greetings and began to share the squirrel that the NightClan warrior had so generously caught, the teasing gave way to more serious conversations that had her heart quietly sinking. As reluctant as she was to think of unpleasant memories, it seemed as though there would be no hiding from them this morning, for Clovermask seemed as interested in discussing the events of the past moon as Shrikesong was uninterested. A part of the TreeClan she-cat wanted to beg off the conversation, ask to change the subject so she didn’t have to relive some of the scariest few days of her life. But she doesn’t have anyone else to talk to, and after everything that happened that night, everyone deserves to have a chance to work through those experiences.

Stalling for time, she savored a bite of the squirrel before finally responding, “I wasn’t, thank StarClan, and I’m glad you weren’t either. I was so afraid you were hurt or—” Or worse. Fiery fur and sharp claws and beady eyes flashed across her mind, and Shrikesong couldn’t help the shiver that traveled down her spine. It had been horrible enough to simply hear about the attack and witness the aftermath; she could not imagine what it must have been like to actually be there. “What happened was terrible,” She said simply, blue eyes meeting green as she reminded herself that the younger she-cat was alive and whole and well. Clovermask had used the word “exciting”, and something in Shrikesong’s heart jolted in an ugly sort of way. Death was never exciting. Death was never anything except tragic.

“All those lives lost and in such a horrible way—” To leave for a Gathering expecting to return to friends and family, never realizing that the “see you later” of that night would actually be a final farewell “—I hope it never happens again. We lost three warriors, Clovermask. That’s— That’s not exciting.” Shrikesong shook her head. “What if I had been there and I had died? How would you feel?”

But she didn’t linger on the faint admonishment. This was supposed to be a fun meeting, after all. The conversation moved on to apprentices, and Shrikesong couldn’t help but think fondly of Antstep, her first and only apprentice. A small smile on her face, she eyed Clovermask for a moment, doing some quick estimations, and answering thoughtfully, “I think I was about your age, maybe a little younger. It was shortly after we met for the first time.” The thought of more foxes had her expression darkening for a moment before she forced the thought away. “That would be great if you were able to train one of them,” The TreeClan warrior agreed warmly, hoping that the experience would lead to her friend developing more friendships within her own clan. Though both were busy, she and Antstep still found the time to enjoy each other’s company, and Shrikesong wanted Clovermask to have the same type of friendship with someone other than herself. “Have you been looking forward to mentoring someone?”

[attr="class","shtag"]tagged Katara

[attr="class","shnotes"]notes shrike's trying to make a good cat out of clover! she's trying!

[newclass=".shtag"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#33536a;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".shnotes"]background-color:#16141a;font-family:Playfair Display;font-size:12px;color:#33536a;letter-spacing:2px;border:1px solid #666;padding:10px;[/newclass]