09.30.2019 → There has been some exciting changes on CD lately! We've added a new monarchy to the groups of cats on the islands, as well as restructured the boards a bit to allow for some space - thus, redrawing the map! We've also promoted Nifty to Global Mod! There are some auditions open right now for JungleClan Deputy as well as for all of the new Kingdom of Mokuhau high ranks - Artemis
09.12.2019 → Unfortunately Elaedria is stepping down as administrator due to life being too busy to keep up! The site will be going through some restructuring in high ranks as well due to this. Effective immediately, the word count is now 100 minimum. Some more changes will be coming in the future - members have been emailed a survey to help us figure out what to change and how to get better. Thanks for your patience! - Artemis
WEATHER
Year 55, Scorching Sands 09.05.2019 → The temperatures of the islands are a steady 98° F on land/ high 80s in water. There is almost no breeze, the sun is uncomfortably warm.
Prey during the day is pretty scarce due to the heat, however is quite active after the sun goes down.
Lost in the dense jungles of scattered islands, facing perils unimagined by their ancestors, are three warrior groups - The traditional JungleClan, descendants of the original clans carried aboard a twoleg contraption from their home long ago and breaking new ground on old beliefs. Second, the curious TidalClan, made up of kittypets who chose to abandon their long since passed twoleg civilization ways for those of true felines. Lastly, the mysterious Tribe of Twisted Roots, hidden in the mist from others with their strange ways and a deeper knowledge of the land around them. Together they must learn how to take their fate into their own paws if they wish to survive this land of erupting mountains and roaring waters.
Join our crew and dive into an island-based Warriors roleplay - a twist on the original series by Erin Hunter. We are a semi-literate site with a minimum of 100 words per post.
Toadpaw's excitement was expected and appreciated. She could always count of the tortoiseshell molly to put a smile on her face. It was just like this when they were kits, and the molly was more than elated that it was the same way now that they were apprentices. Skinkpaw often found herself worried that with all the training, she wouldn't have time to be as social as she once was, but she had more than enough time.
The brown torbie molly followed after Toadpaw who had rushed to the entrance of the apprentice's den. The shore. Skinkpaw had never been to the shore. Well, her mentor had taken her there, but she had never hunted there or anything. The prospect of actually exploring somewhere she had never been before filled her with unease. And for a second, she wondered why her family was so obsessed with the unknown. Nevertheless, she had Toadpaw to show her around.
"Lead the way!" She grinned, bumping into her friend jokingly. "We're gonna have so much fun! I just know it." She waited for Toadpaw to move ahead of her before doing the same. They trekked the familiar territory, leaping over tropical roots and ferns. Her ears were perked, taking in all the sounds of the jungle creatures in whom they shared a home with.
Of course, the sounds of her surroundings wasn't enough to entertain a molly as social as Skinkpaw was. She turned to Toadpaw, a small grin on her face. "You won't believe this..." She whispered to her comrade. "I've never explored the shores before." She was sure Toadpaw would be shocked at something so essential to life on an island. It was true! Her mentor wanted her to memorize the territory before they tried going to water.
"I mean! I've seen it, but I just haven't hunted or explored there. You'll show me all the cool stuff, right?"
A tired, hungry Skinkpaw sauntered towards the fresh-kill pile, pelt painted a luxurious gold as the setting sun brightened her tabby pelt. The apprentice's day was just like any other. She woke up early for patrol, shared tongues, and then trained... Trained a lot. Now that the day was up and the sun was setting, the molly just wanted to rest her aching limbs. But first, she'd quench her hunger.
The torbie picked out a particularly large crow, and immediately got to work on picking off the feathers. It was a hassle, but it was something she didn't mind working for. To Skinkpaw, nothing tasted as good as bird. Maybe it was because of all the work you had to do to actually eat one. It only made sense that you earned something delicious after working so hard to prepare it. Her mouth watered as she picked feather after feather. Finally! She thought, eagerly. The crow wasn't completely naked, but she had cleared enough of it to finally feast.
She didn't hesitate in taking the first bite. The meat was nice and tender in her mouth and it tasted just as good as she imagined it. Getting rewarded with food as tasty as this was enough to make the apprentice happy that she lived life in JungleClan. She just knew that TidalClan life was nothing like this.
Heart filled with awe, Skinkpaw's yellow gaze scanned the clearing. She loved her home and every thing and cat in it. But she couldn't help but notice another cat looking her way. She recognized the stark white pelt of Snowwhisker. He looked as miserable and hungry as she had felt only a few moments ago. She was about ready to call over to him when the tom stood up and made his way over to her. She offered a welcoming smile, happy that she didn't have to move.
So she was right! He was hungry. "You don't even have to ask. Go ahead! Just don't eat my half." She chuckled, sliding over to allow room for the white tom. She wasted no time finishing her half. And when she was done, she laid comfortably on the ground and began to groom herself. She wasn't quite ready to sleep yet, so she decided she'd share tongues with the tom.
"I couldn't have ate that crow all by myself." She began. "But surely you could have gotten prey, no? What was stopping you?"
Skinkpaw padded ungracefully into camp, regret clear on her face. Another failed hunting patrol. She sighed to herself as her pale yellow gaze scoured the clearing. This wasn't the first time she had to call a quits on her training. It was hard dealing with the death of her mother and brother and she often found herself struggling to cope with her mentors straight forward ways. While the torbie was getting quite good at ignoring her anguish, it was near impossible to do so with her mentor's insistence of teaching her the 'best' survival skills so she could 'survive' the next Shrieking Storms. It made sense, definitely, but Skinkpaw just didn't like hearing those words. It implied her brother just didn't have enough skill or that her mother was unqualified. She couldn't help but squeeze her eyes shut and claw at the ground in frustration as the thoughts of her deceased family swam through her head again. But the apprentice forced herself to stop. She was in camp now, and thus had a break from training and all the mental turmoil that came with it. I outta enjoy it. She thought, forcing a small smile on her face.
With a new goal in mind, Skinkpaw finally made her way past the camp entrance and into the clearing. She didn't hesitate to perk her ears at the chatter of cats in camp. There was nothing wrong with hearing some gossip here and there. She took in everything she heard and stored it for later, almost like a chipmunk storing their food. Eventually, she was standing at the mouth of the apprentices den. The torbie let out a sigh of relief. There was no sign of her sister Salamanderpaw. The red tabby was often stimuli for her negative thoughts. Instead, all she saw was a few other apprentices, one of which she knew very well.
"Toadpaw!" She called. Seeing her mottled comrade was enough to get the negative thoughts out of her mind, at least temporarily. She scampered closer to her black and red friend and butted her head against the other affectionately. "I just need to do something." She began. "Maybe I can help you out with one of your collections. Like the old times! I've been so busy with training... Luckily, I got a break today." There was a bit of regret in her last words, but she didn't dwell on it.