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.
A huge grin spread out over her features as the smaller tom teased her right back, relieved that he was letting go a little bit. It was one of the things she was good at; getting others to come out of their shells, and it usually worked quite well in her favour. There were of course, times when it backfired, but she was optimistic that she wouldn’t regret getting to know Monarch better. If anything, it would help her feel a little more comfortable if she found herself alone with him again. The chances of that were slim, but then again, anything was possible in the Tribe.
“We’re, uh, fine!” She responded quickly, not giving herself to really think of anything else to say. The longing she felt for that particular tom was something she chose to keep to herself, as Wave had never really shown the same interest in her. “You know how it goes, we’re both so busy all the time that we barely have time to make dirt in peace.” Fern quipped, trying to ignore the burning in her already fatigued muscles. She wasn’t the worst swimmer, but she also wasn’t the most skilled. Her long pelt made long swims difficult, and she felt envious of those who had short pelts like Monarch.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” She was growing increasingly out of breath, though she was breathing as she was taught to try and combat it. “Let’s just hope there aren’t hungry sharks milling about.” The she-cat said with mock horror, trying to keep up with the Quartermaster.
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Coralfrost had to stop the sigh of relief that came forth as the attention was turned away from her, and placed on Newtstripe and then Tinystar, respectively. She couldn’t help but wonder if Newtstripe shared the same feelings that she herself was developing, then decided almost immediately that of course he did. All it took was one look at Tinystar to know that there were numerous cats that saw her as desirable. There was the fact that she was stunning, then add in the fact that she was Chief of TidalClan, and there was little doubt that she was a well sought after she-cat. Then, there was Coralfrost herself: cowardly, a flight risk, adequate hunter and a poor fighter. She was never on anyone's radar unless they wanted an easy target to get their snide comments out.
“Jasmine is lovely. Though I find the scent way too strong for my nest.” She said hurriedly, turning her attention to Tinystar at the same time that Newtstripe did. It was funny, really, this whole conversation. There were two fighters, and the chief standing around making idle chit-chat about flowers. It was Coralfrosts' most wonderful dream, as well as her worst nightmare. Perhaps she’d find herself a new friend in Newtstripe, and a confidant in Tinystar. On the other hand, Newtstripe could use this as ammunition against her should he choose to. But Coralfrost let that dark thought slip away. She really could use friends, so biting back the urge to flee once more, she smiled brightly at Tinystar as she spoke of orchids.
“Wow, you both have really amazing taste in flowers. Orchids are nice to look at, but the die pretty quick if you remove them from the stem.” She began, looking away wistfully, her mind beginning to function like normal once again. “It’s not a lot of fun to wake up with rotten, dying flowers clinging to your fur.” Wrinkling her nose, the lithe tortoiseshell glanced up at the ever sinking moon and twitched her whiskers. “We are all gonna be pretty tired tomorrow, maybe mention to Sharksong to not assign Newtstripe and I to an early patrol?” She said it jokingly, knowing that losing sleep was worth the relationships she was currently building. Even if she was tired in the morning, she’d still rise and join whatever patrol she was assigned to, bright eyed and bushy-tailed. “Do sharks even sing?” She blurted out, and then stood there with her mouth agape at the words she had spoken.
Snorting with amusement at the she-cats comment, the tom began to groom his ears with his paws. There were numerous she-cats in the Clan young, and ripe for the picking, but they were all so boring. The only one that hadn’t completely bored him to tears was Cranefeather, and he’d forever sport the scar on his haunches from their disagreement. Ospreystrike liked a challenge, but not necessarily one that bit back. He paused to consider all the ways their interaction could have gone differently, but the spitfire was not a cat to be reasoned with.
“I am most grateful, Brindlebear. As I’m sure you can tell, my stomach is no longer loud enough to rival even the greatest of typhoons.” He smirked playfully as he continued to groom. He wasn’t entirely sure where he stood with the older molly, one minute her words scathing, the other almost friendly. It seemed that no matter what age, she-cats were confusing and infuriating. “It does come in handy, yes. But for the amount of chilly nights we do get, it seems a tad bit overkill. Unless I want to suffocate my consorts with my heat, of course.” He replied flippantly, placing his paw once more upon the ground.
“Yes, you she-cats do a lot. We get it, quit your griping about it.” He said with fake exasperation, a wink to ensure she knew he was joking. "I pray that one day I become accustomed to heat as well as you. Right now though, I worry that I may melt into the very ground we stand upon. Yoiu would be able to tell everyone who listened that you overpowered the great, unbeatable Ospreystrike!” Puffing out his chest, the tom made a point of looking proudly off in a random direction.
It wasn’t much, but the admittance of his adventures as a swabbie, made her feel closer to him. She had never cared to get to know him in the past, though she was beginning to realize that there was more to the leopard spotted Quartermaster than he let on. Fern let herself laugh as he continued, trying to imagine a young Monarch getting yelled at by his father. She had never really experienced any kind of punishment as a kit, and even as a swabbie, she paid her chastisements no mind. Selective hearing, she realized, a trait that had yet to leave her.
“So the path to power isn’t paved by following directions, I’m gonna keep that in mind.” She chided playfully as he strode up beside her, disturbing the water once more. She had never been the type of cat to want power, at least not over those around her. From what she had seen, it was an awfully lonely life. Furthermore, any friends that one had would always be clouded by not knowing if they were actually friends, or if they were just playing the part to gain favour. Nah, Fern enjoyed the company she kept, knowing that they chose to spend time with her because they chose it.
“Yes!” She exclaimed, leaping to her paws, spraying water with her large frame. “ Uh, I mean, sure.” Momentarily embarrassed by her outburst, the molly waded forward until the sea bed gave away, and with strong seasoned legs, began to propel herself towards the shipwreck. “Well let’s go slowpoke.” Fern teased over her shoulder, a touch out of breath already as the water sucked and pulled at her long pelt.
There was something about the tom that seemed off. She had always envisioned in her mind that those who help positions of great power, were well, great and powerful. But from what Fern had seen, Monarch appeared to be the exact opposite. He was awkward, as if unsure how to carry himself around his Tribemates, and the large grey tabby found it rather endearing. Fern smiled warmly at him, if for no other reason than to ease his mind. She was young, and full of life, a few extra patrols weren’t going to change that.
“I wasn’t complaining, Monarch, really. I don’t mind helping out the Tribe. We’re all just trying to survive to the best of our abilities,” pausing, she took a step towards him and met his gaze, “so if that means I go on a few extra patrols to ensure that there is enough food for everyone, I’m OK with that.” Fern finished, keeping her gaze on his, to try and show that she didn’t mind, but then dropped it, concern that she was being a little too intense prickling her mind. As he dipped his head, she returned the favour and trotted back over to the water's edge, this time submerging herself up to her belly. “Hmm?” She shot back, surprised that he was still here. “Oh, no. I haven’t.” She responded wistfully, closing her eyes and breathing in the tang of saltwater. “It is the one place I have yet to explore, but maybe one day I will.” She spoke softly, unsure if she was even loud enough for him to hear. Sighing, she sat down in the water, soaking her fur up to her mid back, unsheathing her claws to give her grip among the rocks and sand. “What about you?” She called, cocking her head slightly, opening her pale green eyes once more.
❝ i need more dreams and less life i need that dark in a little more light❞
Of all the cats that could’ve approached him, he was least inclined to believe it would be Snow-whisker. The older tom was a chatterbox, talking about anything and everything that tickled his fancy, and it rubbed the young apprentice the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that he spoke freely, without fear of judgment, something Caddispaw lingered on. It could’ve been jealousy, or just that the tom was odd, and not his cup of tea. Either way, Caddispaw stifled a groan as his booming voice echoed through the camp, and plastered on a somewhat welcoming smile. The least he could do was humor the tom until he grew bored of the apprentice.
“I’m not so-” He began, before he was promptly cut off. Caddispaw cocked an eyebrow as the white warrior sat down, and he drew his paws in close to his body, and half listened to him ramble. Maybe if you didn’t act like an apprentice, he thought bitterly, nodding his head in agreement. The tabby tom made a face at his comment, and allowed himself a small chuckle. It turned out that picking ticks off of other cats was a sore spot for every cat. It made him feel a little better about his own aversion to it.
“I guess that’s the thing about mentors - they get to treat us however they want if they believe it will help shape us into strong capable warriors.” His own mentor, Ivystar, was intimidating, and he knew that if she asked him to pick through her pelt, he would do it without hesitation. “Were you not assigned to a patrol?” He wondered, glancing at the warrior with skepticism. It seemed odd that he was stuck here in camp, but what did Caddispaw know about organizing patrols? Surely there was a reason for it, even if he didn’t quite understand.
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Tags: Jinn (Ivystar, Leader), doe (Guavacloud, Deputy) seppi (Anispine, Medicine cat)
❝ i need more dreams and less life i need that dark in a little more light❞
Call it a coincidence but it seemed whenever the temperature hit ridiculous heights, the young tabby apprentice found himself in a foul mood. Take this morning for instance: he had risen from his nest, and promptly tripped over his brother, then once in the camp, got yelled at by a nameless warrior to get out of their way. That in and of itself wasn’t enough to turn his mood for the worst, but the lack of prey on the fresh-kill pile certainly was. Didn’t any of the warriors actually hunt? The thought was bitter, and Caddispaw found himself stomping around the camp, trying to find a shady spot that still offered a bit of sunshine. It wasn’t a tall order, but nowhere that he settled granted him the comfort he was so desperately looking for.
After pacing the camp several times, he finally settled beneath the rock pile, and began grooming himself. His mind was a turbulent storm, curse words flying around so fast and angrily that if he were to open his mouth, surely they would come pouring out. With the around of warriors milling about, one of them would for sure hear him, and the last thing he wanted to do in this heat was take care of the elders. He didn’t understand how they could be so grumpy all the time, and how they put up with telling the same stories every day numerous times. Was that what was in store for everyone when they retired from their duties. StarClan strike me down before I become one of them!
Sighing heavily, the young tom laid down, stretching his paws out so that they were touched by the sun, and he continued to watch the activity around the camp. He wanted to do something, he just wasn’t sure what. He needed something to take his mind off of the irritation that was festering and getting worse by the minute.
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[attr="class","boxy"] i can see coral being quite shy around him, since she has a general distrust for her clanmates. but i can see her being drawn to him, if only for the fact that he is outgoing and she isn't. a friendship would definitely be possible, especially if he was willing to take the time to get to know her. she'd probably come into her true self with an older cat to call a friend, so i think their friendship could be really good for her own character development! i would love to throw them in a thread together and see what happens doe ,
[attr="class","boxy"] uhm, yes please? fern definitely needs some older influence, especially one where they would be protective over her, since she never really got that from her mother. it would definitely be helpful to keep her out of trouble, and keep her from doing something stupid that could possibly put her life in danger. i see these two having a very fun relationship. Artemis,
Even before he had spoken, the she-cat recognized him if for no other reason than his spotted tabby pelt. She suppressed a groan, her dreams of exploring the shipwreck dying at his presence. She feared little, but the scorn of the quartermaster was definitely near the top of her short list. A flicker of hope sparked in her mind, thinking of ways to convince him to join her, but they were all feeble. Her view of the older tom was limited by the patrols he assigned her, and what she saw in passing. Authority figures always rubbed her the wrong way, so she had done her best to avoid them, but like a thorn in the side, they always seemed to pop up at the most inopportune of times.
“No, not at all.” She chirped back, smiling as warmly as possible to hide her disappointment. “I just came out here to cool off a bit after the patrol! Not that it was too hard, or strenuous. I may or may not have ran here as soon as I got back, though.” Laughing lightly, she flicked her tail and looked back at the shipwreck longingly. Her wide green eyes studied it for a moment longer before she exited the water, the sand squishing beneath the pads of her paws and she stood to face the quartermaster once more.
“Is there something I can help you with? I ain’t doin’ anything important anyways.” Shrugging her shoulders, she cocked her head to the side, awaiting his response. Hopefully he really was just passing by and would soon carry on his way. Fern couldn’t help but wonder though, just what he would say if she voiced her desire for adventure. There was the chance that he would shoot her down, and tell her to use her head, but she couldn’t give up the hope that just maybe, he had a sense of adventure in him as well...