THE MOUNTAINS SAY // LOST/JOINERS

[vvintersoldier]

This is all Rumble Sept's fault. If Rumble Sept didn't drive her, Swiftpaw, and the rest of her Torrent Sept clanmates out of their camp, they wouldn't have gotten separated. Sandheart thought that fateful day was going to be like any other, but Spirit Realm, she was dead wrong. Rather than taking Swiftpaw out for more training with the other apprentices and mentors- the disgusting scent of Rumble Sept invaded their nostrils. Sandheart remembered feeling claws latch onto her back as a male Rumble Sept warrior pounced at her. Not only did he leave her with a scar on her back- he also nicked her left ear. She and her clanmates tried to fight them back, but they were out numbered. They were short on warriors, as they lost some dependable and loyal clanmates due to greencough last leaf-bare. Rumble Sept used this as an advantage, and in order to make sure those snake-hearted cats didn't wipe them off existence, Owlstar yowled for them to run.

The leader's word is law. There was no time to question her leader's orders- all she had time to do was tell her apprentice to follow her. Assure him that they'll meet up with their clanmates later. That they'll reunite with their families and feel so much relief when they're all okay.

But they didn't come across one single clanmate. There was no sign of Owlstar. Or Embercloud or Littleflower. Sandheart wanted to stay determined, assure Swiftpaw that everything will turn out okay. That this will not be permanent.

After a few days of searching, the two were lead into territory a little far from home. It kind of reminded Sandheart of Breeze Sept- it had similar plains to the clan. But, these plains don't belong to Breeze Sept. Sandheart is well aware they're far past Breeze Sept and the moonstone- this should be loner's land. And then, the weird scent invaded her nostrils. Her nose scrunched, an ear flicking as her brain wondered what smell that belonged to. It doesn't smell like a cat- not even a house cat or a loner. If the scent doesn't belong to a feline, then it must be a non-cat! Which means, danger.

"Swiftpaw. We need to turn around now," The she-cat meowed as her ears flattened to her skull, beginning to take a step back. She was sure Swiftpaw was smelling their surroundings, and if he wasn't for some reason- he must be now. He'll pick up on the danger shortly after her, and they'll get out of her before they're attacked by a fox, a badger, or worse of all, a dog.

[ [member=2802]SWIFTPAW.[/member] // feel free to post before rak!! ]

[no more]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 360px; line-height:120%; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; margin-bottom:5px"][ ❖ ] ;; – To some the groups the pair had once been apart of had been their own founding, had begun almost a tradition of putting to a large assembly of creatures a name and hierarchy which was lacking within the structure of others, the minds of those deemed feral often working towards forming familial packs if at all. Yet so too were they different within various ways, the more simplistic structure to these previous groups given something more, done up until nothing of their past was present in their inner mechanics.

Upon the sand touched shores of a secluded island his own life had found its beginning and so he knew nothing of those simplistic beginnings, these groups which had deemed themselves clans. It may have been nothing more then a side effect of youth, inexperience of short time shown in spaces between the knowledge he bore, but so too was it ignorance amongst others. Remnants of the past was this odd pair, though one upon which he may look kindly if so fit to do so, curious as to where they had come from if ever he learnt of it.

“Are you scared of little old me?” Teasing the tone within words though the ashen features bore no hint of such mirth, given instead a neutral disposition as single dark eye found the two. Still some distance separated Silus from these others, a dark spot amongst the grass taking on shades of gold and brown as on the year drew closer to its conclusion, watching them with slight tilt to his head. The words spoken, short as it was, enough to show they bore no knowledge of those that resided within this land but felt instinctive response to grow fearful, or otherwise simply be cautious. Smart in a way for indeed may there be nothing for them here beyond retribution of treading upon land not theirs, peaceful for the most part were those here, however, if one cared not to count the youth before them.

[ATTICUS]

▹▹▹▹ It wasn't hard to miss the two obviously lost felines that had now stumbled upon their border, nor Silus' cool, collected greeting towards them. While a Bengal was one thing, these two seemed a bit jumpy at just about... everything. It was a fact that Atticus noted idly as the large melantistic Jaguar silently slid up behind Silus, his pawsteps gliding across the rolling terrain with ease, almost just appearing from out of the shadows as he took a place besides the younger male. They were scared; the way they held themselves, with their ears back and their nose scrunched, their body tense to flee at any moment. It was a look upon them that Atticus only offered a soft tilt of his head to as the scarred jaguar laid his pure golden eyes upon the creatures. So, they were from somewhere else, hm?  Somewhere that they likely had little knowledge of. He had to admit this was an intriguing fact, not enough to speak up immediately, for that wasn't exactly his nature, but a tidbit of knowledge to keep around, assuming they didn't die of fright on the spot.

Silus, however, was a smart one. Atticus smothered any look of amusement that dared to flicker across his face at his attempts to remain a neutral source, to try and lure these people in by making it seem as though there was not a large group of lions, felines, and creatures just behind them at the observatory some ways away. Or, at least, that is what his answer seemed to amend, first and foremost. "They seem to have had a long journey, Silus," his low voice rumbled, giving the obvious answer with an idle flick of his ear,  never quite one for pointing out the apparent information that could be seen by anyone. Still, Atticus could very easily play along, exhaling slowly as he sunk down onto his belly idly, making himself smaller and, to some degree, less imposing. Yet, his golden eyes and his stoic, scarred face stared back at the felines, an unwavering glance that was anything but unimposing. "What are your names? Where do you come from?" he continued easily, seemingly not even heeding the looks upon their faces anymore as he canted his head softly at the question. Of course, even he knew that such a question could be easily ignored, eventually sighing again as he continued, "We would not harm you, so long as you do not make the first strike." It was... True enough, for now. While the Ascendants were neutral, they would willingly fight if it came to it; yet Atticus did not think that this pair would try.

  [color=black][b] 

[agathe.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]Agathe supposed she knew what it was like to be separated from her home and sent to wander the world on her own. Of course, she had to have expected such an outcome when she thought to strike her own matron in order for one of her sisters to escape, not fearing the punishment that surely awaited her unless she, too, managed to leave. Unlike Sandheart however, her clan had vowed to chase her to the ends of the earth until she was found, returned, and then executed. Witchlings were a temperamental breed after all, and they hardly handled betrayal- much less from their own heir.

But Agathe supposed that that chapter of her life had more or less ended. Perhaps she might have entertained the idea of rejoining her sisters as the Ironbeak matron were she to receive news that her grandmother had unexpectedly fallen, but after assuming control of the Ascendants with Titan, that was no longer an option. Leading here was vastly different but she liked it all the same, even if the urge to order executions and inhumane punishments so often tempted her.

The faint sound of voices on the wind caused the snow leopard to abandon her thoughts, silent paw steps taking her away from the direction of the Observatory and towards their source. She had expected another joiner (so little did anything else stumble upon their borders) but this one seemed... different. Turning around? Did they really expect danger? Interesting. She'd glance casually at Atticus, deciding to hold her silence until one of them answered his questions. There was no use in her asking the same questions in a different fashion, especially if the pair was already wary of them.