Re: September Gathering
Quote:
Originally Posted by wolfie
┆彡 T H E S I N - E A T E R ☆
HE . HIM . 57 MOONS . RIVERCLAN WARRIOR heavily scarred & skinny black tom with white speckles; cloudy light amber eyes. walks with a prominent limp & has protruding fangs that overlap his bottom lip.
content + interaction warning : this character frequently explores themes of mental health, complex trauma, and abuse
└➤ ⌗ @vellichor
truth of the matter, wormbite was slightly shocked at the simple fact they were already attending a gathering. he understood being eager to show their resilience, but he supposed he would've preferred allowing riverclan to adjust a bit more before interacting with ,, the rest of them. curiously, he wondered how far fadingstar would go with his threat of execution. warriors who could not keep their mouth shut were a liability. apprentices, on the other paw, wormbite had a softer spot for.
the oriental walked slowly, senses high on alert. his muscles were tensed, preparing for the other acorn to drop whilst he weaved through the crowd. typically, he would keep to the back -- uncomfortable with crowds but he had not been .. well, around for an awful long time. he was hoping if he could .. mingle, partially, he could info gather. still, he kept a bit on the sidelines. the true center was far too... much.
wormbite eventually settled down, but did not have long to start his eavesdropping info gathering before a familiar scent started to creep up behind him. he stilled, completely, convinced his breathing must've stopped. memories flash before his eyes in a split second, his skin beginning to crawl uncomfortably. it was impossible. he was far gone, a ghost in the past - in the stars up above. (nevertohearhisvoiceagain) he does not turn around, he cannot turn around for it would only shatter the brief hope he carried.
paws step on his tail and pain shots through and up his spine. he does not need to blink before reflex takes over and he is whirling around to stare at the ghost. ,, and then instead of hearing a voice he knew by his soul - someone pipes up in a panicked high-pitched voice and begins spilling out apologize. an apprentice, wormbite reckons. he blinks slowly, almost wanting to laugh out of .. he does not know. instead, he sighs tiredly.
closer it becomes obvious that the scent is .. off. a tinge of unfamiliarity, thunderclan and other undertones bleeding through. he knew it was improbable, but it does not start his heart from aching at the reminder. a sour look appears over his long face, tail curling over his scarred hindleg -- he stands silently towering over the apprentice; remaining unaware of his body language.
was he truly that tired to make such a mistake?.. foolish and embarrassing. wormbite clears his throat quietly after the feline finishes, ".. you are ,,, fine. you are not the firsst nor the lasst... it .. happenss in crowded areass, " he reassures. truthfully, he would've simply relocated without another word - he did not like talking to cats awfully younger than him nor other clans. this time around though he stared a bit too long to make a swift get-a-away. escape route expired. besides, he's sure she would skitter off and instead sits back down.
★ ULTIMATE PREDATOR ★ JUST A SCRATCH ★ SHADOW FIEND ★ SURVIVAL INSTINCTS
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•° Timberpaw °•
Dreamwalker • Flock Together I • Kitty Softpaws
She glanced upward. A tired sigh. A mean look. The cat was glaring down upon her. Timberpaw had never felt so small in her life. She thought she was about to be snapped at, whacked with a paw, or worse. The calico pressed herself as close to the earth as she could and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping Bumblestar wouldn't see the horrible scene that was inevitably about to take place. After what felt like an eternity, but was just a few small moments, she heard the cat clear his throat and tell her she was fine. One blue eye peeked open in hesitant hope.
He wasn't moving, either. And now that Timberpaw wasn't scared out of her mind, she managed to get a good look at this cat. He was very distinct, scars patterning his short black fur. Timberpaw's gaze darted toward his, only to see blind, milky eyes staring back at her. She spent too long watching in silence, and part of her knew this. But another part just couldn't stop looking at this cat, taking him in. Something inside her ached. Eventually, though, she figured it was just a tinge of the sickness going around and dismissed the idea. It was too late to move away, though, so Timberpaw went ahead and sat beside the cat.
"You're... from RiverClan, right?" she asked with a tilt of her head. "Uhh, what's it like there? Is it all boggy and mucky?" This was probably the worst conversation starter, but she had to stay here at this point. It would be rude to leave.
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