[ti]Open[/ti]New Beginnings

[ladyspectral]

Honeyheart hated this, but she had no idea how else to address the entire group. She needed to accept the fact she was a leader, and finally take charge. But... that didn't mean she had to do things how the clans did. No, she wanted to avoid how they kept their groups if nothing else.

The scarred ginger and white rogue sprung up atop the trash can, inhaling sharply as it wobbled under her paws. As it stilled she continued upward, scrambling her way onto the dumpster clumsily. Not the best landing by miles, but it worked. Besides this was her first time climbing to the top of the thing, she was sure her cats understood if they noticed. She let out a sharp yowl, waiting for her cats to gather.

"Cats of the two leg's place!" She announced, voice carrying over the bustle of the twoleg's place. "I would like to apologize to you all. I have been a poor leader, and you have suffered from that. I have made mistakes that have cost us our oldest member. No more. I have been too brash, leading us toward a life too close to that of the clans. It is time to distance ourselves." She began, hesitating for just a heartbeat. "To any cat willing to help guide us to victory, I seek to form a council of sorts. I've denied us structure for too long, that needs to end. Any cat under six lunar cycles will be considered a kit, to be trained in the basics of survival by their mother and father. After that they will choose how to assist the group, be it fighting, scouting or hunting. This is not set in stone, but will merely be their primary responsibility. After six lunar cycles the whole of the group will teach them."

"Speaking of which, we have many cats turning six lunar cycles. We have watched you grow, and you have made us proud. All of you. Now is the time to choose what you wish for your future to shape into, as full members of our family. This is not set in stone, as you are all free to pursue your own path. As always." With that she fell silent, listening for their choices.

-----

Viper was the first to step forward. The ginger tom had listened religiously, and spoke up to his mother with a small smile. "Mother, I would like to become a hunter. I'm not good at fighting, perhaps that would be the best choice for me."

[mewmehh]

Among the ragtag group of cats, Shadder skulked near the back, his shaded eyes hazy and low. He watched carefully as Viper moved forward, the corners of his lips quirking up in a small smile at the young tom's genuine words. It was a fair thought and reasoning and the dusty, dark tabby was proud of the little ginger cat he liked to say he was fondest of. Viper was not one of the blood thirsty members of the group. He simply was stuck here because of his kin.

Pulling Shadder's attention away from Viper was a large, pale chocolately tom with a deep scowl and harsh olive eyes as one of Eaglewing's largest kits lumbered forward after Viper. "I wanna be a fighter, obviously." Buzzard's tone was deep and flat, the rumbling sound allowing for the young tom to be seen more as an adult than a kit. It was astonishing how much the cat had grown and already he sounded grizzled and strong. He twitched his dark ears as he awaited Honeyheart's response, one already nicked from whatever scuffle he had gotten himself into.

[Fireflake]

Vulture the Rogue

---

Vulture sat, thinking. He was perfectly happy to go last for now. One of his ears flattened as his light blue eyes followed his brother Buzzard. Vulture didn't have any scars or nicks, and his voice didn't sound like thunder. More like... lightning. Vulture didn't talk a lot.

His tone was often kit-like still when he did speak. Kit-like or, at the very least, young-sounding. He didn't mind too much. He could wait. Better to take advantage of this state now. Cats were more likely to be open and lenient with young cats, weren't they?

Vulture's eyes darted between Buzzard and Viper. Did he want to be a fighter or a hunter? A cat that others would be scared of, or a cat that sought and brought back something for the group? Fighter. Hunter. Fighter. Hunter... the tom lifted his head and stared at Honeyheart. "I want to be a hunter," he told her with a certainty that he didn't really have.

The tom looked around, trying to pick his littermates out of the crowd. It wasn't long before he was trying to look at every cat there. Who would be the most successful in life? Who would be the least? And who would die before they got a chance to find out? He stopped craning his neck. Hopefully not him.

---

[foggy]

♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚♚

Honeyheart's family, at least all of those who were known to him, were red tabbies. All five of her kittens had inherited her fiery pelt and three of them, himself included, had some degree of white plastered on their bodies. He used to think it that it was too obvious a mark to their heritage, it practically branded them as Honeyheart's kin, but now that he'd grown, Blaze had decided that their bright furs were something they should treasure. As a family, it was something they all shared, regardless of interests and strengths, this was something they just weren't able to change. Of course, if they wanted to work as spies, they'd have some charisma in order to charm their way through the clan cats, especially as they had seen both Honeyheart and Viper. Then again, it wasn't like the clans were exceptionally clever when it came to accepting unfamiliar cats into their ranks. He suspected that even his own mother could walk right up to them, apologise, and she'd be welcomed back. At least the rouges interrogated any possible members, just in case.

His blue eyes tracked his mother's smallish structure as she jumped her way to the top, idly wondering what could be happening that compelled her to insist on such a level of authority over them. He hoped it was something important, not that his mother would waste her words on anything less than worthy of their time, but with the sudden attack by the clan cats, it was worth considering whether or not some kind of structure to their group may be helpful to their cause.

There wasn't much time to ponder because suddenly Honeyheart's voice rang through the alleyway that the anti-clan alliance had made their home in. It was probably the first time Weaseltongue's death had been acknowledged so publicly, he thought. In truth, the ginger tom wasn't too bothered by the old's cats death, he was practically spitting out dust as it was, and Blaze knew that more younger felines would be taking his place. The other interesting part of this meeting was how they were now required to choose their profession. Their main duty to which their usefulness would depend on, from the moment they decided, they would be considered a full member of the rouge group. Blaze shifted, wondering how his littermates would go about this, what they would choose for themselves.

There would be many cats choosing today, his own littermates and Eaglewing's litter. He wasn't well acquainted with the older tom's kits, assuming most of them were just unintelligent brutes, like their father, but seeing as they would be working side by side with some of them, he made a note to mentally prepare himself later. That being said, Blaze didn't have the strongest belief in his own siblings either: Hornet wanted to become an essential asset to the group, at least, and dear sister Sting sometimes gave him backlash with how quick her ideas could change. He gave his brothers a little more hope, only slightly, as Lynx certainly had the mental capacity to fight, but seemed to be more aggression than common sense at times, and Viper was known to be short-tempered, but at least he understood why the clans needed to be taken down, though sometimes Blaze thought his brother was too soft-hearted.

Coincidentally, Viper was the first to speak out about his new profession, and chose a hunter's way of life. It was a decent choice, at least Viper was honest about admitting his faults, and Blaze was sure that the rouge group would prefer enthusiastic and skilled fighters to have fighting as their main focus, rather than those who tried to shy away from it. The next to speak was Buzzard, one of those brutes he'd thought about earlier. Obviously a fighter, Blaze internally rolled his eyes, but had to refer back to how Buzzard would clearly flourish in a combative environment. Then there was Vulture, who looked a lot more delicate compared to his brother, who choose to be a hunter. Hmm, maybe he was the exception to his more aggressive littermates.

Allowing his piercing blue gaze to travel around to the others who were choosing today, he noted that none of them seemed ready to answer just yet, which meant that it was his chance. Ironically, Blaze had spent the last few minutes thinking about other's choices, rather than what his own would be. Not that he had a hard decision to make, it wasn't like he would ever become a good fighter and hunting would be a difficult endeavour with his boneless limb dragging against whatever ground he was standing on. No, he had a good idea of what was left to him, and he supposed he could work with it. After all, Aster looked like she could defecate honey, like not a single bad thing could ever come out of her, whichever end.

The ginger and white tom decided to choose a life of medicine, perhaps you could call it valiant of him, choosing to spend the majority of his time learning how to save lives, but unsurprisingly, Blaze had ulterior motives. For every life-saving medicine, there was a life-destroying poison, perfect counterparts. He would learn every herb that could help save a life, but would endeavour to become a master of toxicity, learning how to cause unbearable pain with just a few leaves or berries. "I would like to learn the ways of healing, mother," Blaze wouldn't have minded stating his real motivations, but he had doubts about the loyalty of some of those present at the meeting. Hopefully Aster wouldn't mind teaching him poisons on the down-low, and he could keep his newfound passion a secret until he was skilled enough to reveal it. "Not like I would excel at much else, but  at least this way,  I can put myself to some use," If you were listening hard enough, you would've just been able to detect the hint of something dark in his tone, but to anyone else, Blaze's voice was full of its usual quiet confidence and self-decrepitating humour.

[ladyspectral]

Honeyheart nodded, hopping her way down to the ground. She hated being above her cats, physically or metaphorically. But sometimes things had to be done, and this was one of them. "You will be amazing at your roles." She commented, nodding as her sons chose what they wanted for their futures. "But, if it isn't for you there's nothing stopping you from changing. We're all free to follow our own paths here." She padded toward Blaze, nodding her head to him once.

"Of course, dear. Though don't underplay yourself. You can do anything your heart desires. Perhaps it will take some more time... but you will make us all proud. I'm sure Aster wouldn't mind the help," Her voice dropped in tone as she continued. "Though I feel she may be a hard teacher."

[mewmehh]

A sharp pair of vivid turquoise eyes glowed dimly beneath a dusty red brow as a lithe, curly-furred form moved in a haggard gait into the narrow alley, her brown paws looking dirty and swollen from wear. A disgruntled expression seemed to adorn her face, albeit exhausted and droopy, and the faint scent of violets floated about her person, clashing with the stink of the filthy streets. Her fiery pelt looked like it had seen better days, and yet despite the ungroomed state of her fur, the she-cat was quite the pretty one. Not one that would be found roaming the streets by herself.

Padding weakly into the shadow-cast alley, Tallulah Rose’s eyes narrowed at the gathered collection of cats, scanning in a leering gaze until she locked onto a familiar pale siamese tom. Her eyes then moved to the ginger and white cat standing at the center of the group and the red queen tossed her head sideways, her long curls flouncing and her gem-like eyes glittering in spite of the dark bags beneath them. ”Is this the group of rogues that fought the clans?” Her voice was raspy and dry, yet youthful and full of fire.

[ladyspectral]

Many cats had been making their way to the alleyway. Honeyheart paused, turning her head toward the ginger she cat, dipping her head in a nod. "Yes, we are. Clan or outsider?" Her voice was blunt, a bit distant and guarded even. At least before she spotted the she cat's collar.

"Ah, a house cat then? Not a clan cat at least." Her voice was friendlier by far, warmer. "You are a long way from the dens. What brings you to our corner of two leg's place? You must have traveled a long wat. Come in, rest your paws some." There was no need for hostilities between the outsiders, they got more than enough of that from the clan cats.

[mewmehh]

Tallulah gave a little curt nod as she continued into the alley towards the cat's, ignoring the eyes that pinned themselves to her as she moved. The faint tinkling of her collar's little bell was washed out by the sound of blood rushing in her ears, thus she gave her head a quick shake ro clear it a bit. Upon reaching the mass of cats, the red kittypet sat down and stretched her sore toes. Still, her eyes never moved from Honeyheart. Tallulah stared at the older she-cat long and hard, as if looking for the answers to her unspoken questions.

After a moment of struggling to find her voice, it seemed, Tallulah Rose furrowed her brow and meowed slowly,"Is...is it true that you found one of the clans' camps? That you know where Ivyclan is..?" The name rolled off her tongue, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She had heard it through the grapevine that these cats had launched an attack on the clan of the forest, though the details of the ordeal were still unknown to the kittypet. Honestly, she didn't much care; perhaps it would be different if she still looked upon Ivyclan favorably, but after what they had done...what he had done....Tallulah only had one thing in mind. With her bright eyes flashing, she added with more vigor,"I need to go there."

[ladyspectral]

Honeyheart slowly nodded her head. "Yes, we do. We know where all the camps are, now. Why do you need to go to their camp? My name is Honeyheart. What's yours?" Her voice was wary, but still kind and polite. "I hope you don't seek to join them. They're notorious for spitting in the faces of outsiders." She continued soon after, glancing about the alleyway to her gathered cats. So far no others had reacted, but that wasn't to say they wouldn't. She stepped forward, wincing as she felt her shoulder pop. Maybe jumping from the dumpster was a bad idea...

She quietly examined the house cat, waiting for a response.

-----

Viper remained a good ways away, staring at Tallulah intently. A house cat, looking for Ivyclan...? He had seen how they treated his mother, and heard of what they did before she was an enemy. There was no way a random house cat going to their camp would go at all well.

[mewmehh]

Tallulah tensed, her knobby backbones poking through her matted and messy throng of red curls. The fire in her eyes faltered for a moment as they delicately touched the ground while she slowly trailed a single claw through the loose pebbles. Unable to meet Honeyheart's eyes, the kittypet mewed in a softer voice,"They've taken something from me. And I need to see them. At least see them." Her voice broke off into a hoarse whisper. "It won't be long before they become apprentices, I think."

Snapping her eyes back up to the older she-cat, Tallulah knitted her dark brow into a tenacious look. "Ivyclan's taken my kits to be their warriors, ans I wish to see them again." Angry tears welled up in her eyes and the kittypet's claws sank desperately into the dust atop the alley floor. "Mintkit and Violetkit...Wingedkit and Rosekit, they've never laid eyes on me, you see! Raised by another, to never know me- I can't take it! It's not fair!!" Salty tear touched by bitter anguish fell like waterfalls from the scrunched-up face of the red queen as she practically plead her reasoning to the leader.

"You're the only ones who I can ask to help me..." she hiccuped.