#(threads.)

[fledercanons]

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

"I do, too," Sarabi mumbled, putting a paw over her friend's back. "I'm gonna try to convince them to let me stay." She promised.

Upon leaving the camp, Sarabi felt the pit in her gut grow wider and deeper. What would Mother say? And worse... What would Father do?

They were waiting expectantly as she entered the scene, their faces thinly veiling fury. Yet, Mother had the audacity to put on a façade.

"Oh, my Sarabi!" Hadiya bellowed, rushing to her cub and landing a raspy lick upon the cub's head.

It felt fake.

You don't care about me, Sarabi thought bitterly. You just care that no one else was there to do all the work.

She knew better than to speak such thoughts aloud. Instead, she pulled away, attempting to steel herself against the impending doom she was sure was about to be set upon her.

"Mother.... Father," She announced, attempting to stand tall. "I... Want to stay with ThunderClan. I want to join their pride."

"You don't even know these lions!" Ajabu snapped. "Of all the ridiculous, ludicrous things I've ever heard — Absolutely NOT! You leave your mother and I worried sick, searching the savannah for you, and you talk of wanting to join another family? You want to abandon your own blood?!"

He was practically roaring in her face, an inch away. She didn't dare flinch. Shutting her eyes momentarily before standing even stiffer. She would not back down. She knew what she wanted.

"I don't want to abandon anybody! I love you all, but I like the way ThunderClan treats me. I feel like I'm... Like... I ..." She trailed off, unable to place the feeling into words. She glanced at Pinestar hopelessly for a heartbeat.

"We're extremely disappointed in you, Sarabi! You know better!" Hadiya scolded, making the cub finally sit down and hang her head bitterly. "You have responsibilities! You cannot just run off and do whatever you feel like! This isn't Sarabi Land! Other lives exist outside of you, and we've been nothing but good to you. I don't even know where this is coming from, "I like the way they treat me". I guess we're terrible parents, then?"

Sarabi remained silent, not meeting her mother's gaze. Her siblings exchanged glances, sinking low.

....However, Hadiya paused. She looked to the patrol in observation, thinking for a few moments.

"What are the benefits of your pride? If more were to join, what would you have to offer?" She inquired, tail tip twitching.

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

Bluecub looked up at Windflight as he nodded to Sarabi, agreeing… cautiously. “Can I come? Please?” the cub begged, her eyes wide. She didn’t want to face the fact that Sarabi might be leaving the clan. She was a wonderful friend, and Bluecub genuinely cared for her, even though they’d only known each other a short time.

But the warrior shook his head. “I’m sorry, Bluecub. You know the rules. Cubs are not to leave camp.”

Crushed, she looked at Sarabi and hurried to press her forehead into her shoulder. “I-… I really hope you can come back,” she said softly.

Windflight nodded for Sarabi to follow him out of camp. As the two walked on, Bluecub felt tears well up in her eyes.

Please, StarClan, bring her back to us!

…

When Sarabi and Windflight arrived back at the spot in the territory that his clanmates were located, he took his place in the group of lions in ThunderClan once more.

Pinestar looked at him expectantly.

“She’d like to talk to them, Pinestar.”

The leader nodded. “Go ahead, Sarabi.”

[louiewells]

starter: open @aurorabaystarter location: the lighthouse

"Beach clean up day is coming up -- can I sign you up for a shift?"

[billieconway]

open starter: @aurorabaystarter location: utp

"Okay, hypothetically, if someone was going to consider looking into dating aps in this day and age...Hypothetically, which one should they be looking at slash least likely to meet a man that will make them the subject of a Netflix documentary?"

[macaulaymontgomery]

starter for: open @aurorabaystarter location: under the sea prom

"The only thing this is doing is reminding me how much older I've gotten since my actual prom," Mac admits from her seat at a table, taking a long chug of punch to hydrate herself.

"I thought for sure I'd at least have until my ten-year reunion before I started to feel ancient. How you holdin' up?"

[louiewells]

"What's wrong with a fern? Ferns are beautiful," Louie argues defensively, but her voice even.

"Maybe something native. Like California lilac," she pauses a moment before she explains her specificity.

"Native plants. They're better for pollinators. Maybe you could do an arrangement of them or a raised wildflower bed or something. Save the bees."

@kalanixhale

"A fern? I'm thinking about something that'll brighten the place up! Something nice and colorful. That would be good, don't you think?"

"I mean, yes... but that doesn't mean we can't have pretty things as decorations, too!"

@louiewells

[presleyfarrow]

status: open @aurorabaystarter location: tuttie fruttie smoothie

"Okay, if you think it's so easy then here -- you can answer one," Presley says as she flips through her interview flashcards, reading a question off of the back of one.

"'If you could have one wish fully granted with no strings attached or consequences, what would it be?' And you can't say world peace."

[demichu]

open starter: @aurorabaystarter location: utp

"You seem like someone who has pretty representative tastes. What do you think would go over better in this town -- Shakespeare or a musical?"

[prupipers]

open starter: @aurorabaystarter location: driftwood coffee

"I can't believe Bowen got fucking Lady Gaga to do Las Culturistas. Not to sound bitter, I'm not, but are you fucking kidding me?"

She furrows her brows and takes a drink from her coffee.

"Who am I even supposed to get that can compete with that? The fucking Pope?"

[vanessagable]

open starter: @aurorabaystarter location: the corner store

"Hey, can I ask you a weird favor?" Van questions, casting her eyes out of the front door of the shop suspiciously.

"Could you walk out in front of me?"

[connorsclark]

open starter: @aurorabaystarter location: sweet spot creamery

"So, I missed Valentine's Day entirely," Connor observes, dipping her spoon into her frozen yogurt.

"How much of a shitshow was it? On a scale of 1-10?"

[peterbasara]

starter for: anyone @aurorabaystarter

location: outside of lavender haze

"Okay, here we go -- age old question," Peter poses, taking a hit from his vape.

"You remake any movie and everyone has to be Muppets except for one actor that stays the same. What movie and what actor are you picking?"

[presleyfarrow]

"If we're being honest between the two of ourselves, I think she actually wanted people to see," Presley sighs as she glances over at her mother's antics, a line forming in her brow as they furrow with embarrassment.

"What's the point of paying one of the best plastic surgeons in the world for a boob job if you don't want people looking at them, right?"

@gcldrushed

eleanor quickly turned her head away even though she has already seen the wardrobe malfunction. " would it be better if i pretended that i didn't see that? " she offered quietly, though she wasn't sure that would be reassuring at all. she glanced briefly in the older woman's direction, then quickly looked away, not wanting to add to presley’s discomfort. " you did try to tell her, " eleanor said gently, offering a small, understanding smile. " sometimes mothers don’t want to hear it... " hers definitely wouldn't, but she hasn't seen her parents anywhere near the high school so it would probably be safe to say that they didn't attend. // @presleyfarrow

[civanguneri]

Who: Open Where: Chapman's Grocer. It was only December fucking tenth. A week into December was all it took, and suddenly, you couldn't go anywhere without being elbow-to-elbow with people. The days leading up to Christmas seemed like its very own kind of virus, with people frazzled and shopping like it was just days before the holiday. Civan was in dismay as he navigated the isles he knew by heart, muttering to himself as he went. If he wasn't so particular about his vegetables he could just order for delivery, but he'd be out of sorts if things weren't just so. Overly ripe tomatoes made a difference. As did the gender of a bell pepper. "Of course—" He cut himself off, "Allah belanı versin." Civan rounded a particular stall in the fresh market section to a cart wall. A traffic jam, except, in the produce section of a grocery store. Two energetic middle-aged women stood there gabbing, carts facing each other as if the world should stop and rotate around them. The Zax. Instead of arguing, they were gossiping. He backtracked, begrudgingly making to go around them but instead, he felt himself bump into the cool metal of someone else's cart behind him. For a moment he froze, rod straight, and had to exhale the tension in a huff. Civan turned. Face a mask, frustration still boiling beneath the surface. "That way is blocked."

[unforsworn]

mise  en  scenè  ⸺  the  crooked  mile,  at  the  juncture  between  the  open  arms  hotel  and  the  lucky  pawn,  an  hour  before  sunset.

in  a  few  hours,  fables  from  each  parcel  of  their  sequestered  town  will  march  their  inexorable  way  to  the  woodland  in  the  opaque  night,  beneath  the  cool  balm  of  stars.  the  sun  will  slope  beneath  the  horizon—the  world  aflame,  then  put  out  as  if  drowned—and  the  shoulders  of  the  sky  will  falter,  will  capitulate  to  the  black  sails  of  darkness.  the  day’s  light,  extinguished  in  but  a  short  breath,  a  short-lived  exhalation  of  time.

natural  occurrences  still  startle  lancelot,  but  he  supposes  it  is  to  be  expected,  even  excused:  after  all,  he  was  only  recently  roused  from  an  interminable  stupor.  hanging  from  a  tree  for  the  better  part  of  four  centuries  will  do  that  to  you,  king  cole  had  said.  the  symbol  of  death  marks  him  still;  no  signet  of  valiance  or  virtue  or  the  life  he  paraded  and  prided  himself  in  when  camelot  still  stood  tall  and  unfallen.  no  fate  could  be  so  final  and  so  essentially  pathetic.  nothing,  not  even  the  glory  of  a  name,  could  absolutely  survive  death.

this  world,  this  mundane  world,  had  prevailed  and  thrived  long  before  the  fables  arrived.  it  will  continue  to  do  so  long  after  they  are  gone.  one  way  or  another,  he  thinks.  how  long  before  their  magic  is  depleted?  before  the  cardinal  bond  between  birthplace  and  creation  is  severed  completely?  until  no  one  who  has  entered  the  heart  of  their  collective  tale  can  remember  it,  can  pass  it  on?

for  now,  he  waits,  a  sombre  sentry  hemmed  in  between  the  open  arms  and  the  lucky  pawn.  the  fleet  of  footsteps  draws  neither  his  eye  nor  his  ear,  but  he  inclines  his  head  nonetheless.  “for  how  long  do  you  think  we’ll  remain  hidden?  another  decade?  another  century?  tomorrow,  perhaps,  we’ll  wake  to  the  mundane  authority  storming  our  homes.”

[fledercanons]

@brxtherbear

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────

"Mother... Mother, please,"

It had been an immensely hard season for the sabre-toothed cats. Hadiya had lost all in her litter apart from one to sickness and famine as they traversed claimed land, driven out by hunters and other animals. Now, Sarabi was the only one of her siblings to remain, having watched her kin die slowly right before her eyes, taking their last breaths and fall still.

Another skirmish for land now lay her mother low, unmoving. She had battled with a passing bear, attacking her with idea for gaining her cave. The mother bear had defended her home and cubs as anyone would do, and much blame could not be placed. Hadiya had attacked first. In the settled dust, the mother bear had left, and Hadiya trekked miles, only to collapse from her injuries before Sarabi. She had lost.

"Mother," Sarabi pleaded as she took to Hadiya's side, prodding her face. Her flanks had already fallen still as the air. "Mother.... Mama. Please, get up. Mama, don't leave me!" Sarabi begged in a devastated sob.

But Hadiya did not get up. She did not stir, did not move. The cub buried her face into her mother's neck, letting out a feeble cry. Sarabi had now lost everything she'd had before.

She could smell the scent of another approaching bear, but could not move. Perhaps they were here to finish her off. Now, she could not bring herself to care. She awaited her fate, hoping the end would be swift. "Mama..." She murmured softly in hurt, not daring to look at the approaching predator.

───── ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆ ─────