#doverose

About:

PolyClan is a large polyamorous group started by Ivoryburn. It gets it's Clan name as a joke due to its size, and is not an actual Clan. Ivoryburn is affectionately nicknamed "Ivorystar," though she is also not an actual leader.

Members:

--Alabiowing (F)

--Applecreek (TM)

--Bluerain (M)

--Chukarvole (F)

--Doverose (M)

--Dustwither (TM)

--Fishoat (F/M)

--Houndroot (M)

--Ivoryburn (F)

--Mothbloom (M)

--Opposumspine (F)

--Raggedrunner (M)

--Ravencall (TM)

--Scorchbeetle (M)

--Shrikeface (M)

--Snakefern (F)

--Sparrowfall (F)

.

Each members' mates / relationships are listed under the cut

Stonefern sat, waiting for his father to finish playing–or perhaps fighting–with Doverose. The two toms were pulling on opposite sides of a stick, tails waving like dogs. He would wonder who would win if he weren’t so anxious, instead shifted his paws until they created dents in the ground beneath them.

It wasn’t too long before the twig snapped, sending both toms flying backward. Stonefern was thankful that they weren’t play-fighting where the ground was messy. He didn’t feel like cleaning the sprayed bits of mud from his white fur. 

From his place on the ground, Grousemane could see Stonefern. He grinned at his son before standing up and padding toward him. “Seems that we’ll have to break the tie another time,” Grousemane called to Doverose. 

“Not to worry, little Grouse, I love beating you,” Doverose responded, before picking up his half and padding away.

“You saw I almost won,” Grousemane nudged Stonefern.

“Yeah,” Stonefern replied absently. 

“Did you stop just to watch, or do you want to play too?”

Stonefern shrugged, but it was tense. “Just wanted to get away for a bit.”

“Ah, that I understand.” Grousemane wrapped his tail around Stonefern and gave his ear a swift lick. “Searching for old pops to rescue you, then?”

“‘Pops’?”

“Yeah, pops! Pops, papa. That’s who I am.”

“I prefer ‘dad.’ It’s normal.”

“Do you call all three of us ‘dad’?”

“I use different tones.”

“Right, the happy tone for me and annoyed ones for them.”

“Sure.” Stonefern cracked a smile. The distraction was making him feel better, less constrained. He knew this dad would do that. 

“What did you want to get away from, anyway? If you ask me, that Birchhawk would make far better company. Aren’t you too friends? Or were you friends?”

The smile dissipated, and Stonefern’s paws began working into the ground again. 

“Hey, hey, slow down!” Grousemane moved to still Stonefern’s paws with his own. “Talk to me. Did Birchhawk say something?”

Stonefern wanted to growl in frustration, or perhaps just run, but he couldn’t do that with his dad. It would stir more questions than answers. He wanted to get away from thinking about Birchhawk. He didn’t want to have to talk about it, not so soon, but at the same time he knew that he had to face the fact now, and really, sooner was better than later. “Birchhawk….told me he liked me,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

Grousemane tilted his head. “But you have to let him down?”

“Not just him!” Stonefern’s tail whipped. “Everyone who might confess. But I don’t want to hurt them….and what if Birchhawk doesn’t want to be friends anymore?”

“Not be friends with you?” Grousemane sounded shocked. “Of course he would, no matter what you say!” Then, pausing, he asked, “why everyone?”

“Because it’s….” Stonefern searched for the right words to say. “It just…It doesn’t feel right for me.”

Grousemane gave him a questioning look.

“Being mates,” he clarified.

“Ah!” Grousemane nodded in understanding. “That’s not uncommon. I think it’s called aromanticism.”

Stonefern pricked his ears. “It has a name?” He had thought he was just weird.

“Yep, cats who aren’t interested in relationships. And then there’s ‘asexual,’ cats who’re not into the physical stuff–”

“Okay, gross!” Stonefern stuck out his tongue. Grousemane chuckled at him, and Stonefern was surprised to realize that his smile had returned. But again, it faltered. “What if Birchhawk doesn’t understand? Or he doesn’t want to be around someone he can’t be with and leaves?”

Grousemane nuzzled Stonefern’s cheek. “If you tell him who you are, and he leaves, he wasn’t worth being with in the first place.”

“But he’s fun,” Stonefern sighed. “I don’t want to hurt him, and….I don’t want him to think I’m weird.”

Grousemane licked his ear again, then the space between them. “What did you say before you came running for me?”

“That I needed to think about it. He looked sad.”

Grousemane’s muzzle twisted, as though the words he wanted to say were somewhere in his mouth and he had to find them. He let out a heavy breath. “You’re ‘decapitated-head dad’ is better at this whole talking deal, strangely enough.”

Stonefern was going to point out that he hadn’t wanted to talk but to get away from having to, but he didn’t want his father to feel like he didn’t want him. “You flirt with everyone, I figured you would know a thing or two about rejection,” he joked.

“I’m a flirt,” Grousemane replied, “it’s fun. But it’s only fun, Myrtlewing’s the only one I need.”

Stonefern looked down. “What if Birchhawk feels that way about me? And I let him down, and he has no one?”

Grousemane placed his paw beneath Stonefern’s chin and raised it so that he looked into the younger cat’s eyes. “Stop spiraling. You don’t even know what he will say. If it’s bad, he has an eternity to get over it.”

Stonerfern thought about that, then thought about an eternity without his close friend. 

“Stop thinking,” Grousemane told him, standing up and pushing Stonefern to do the same. “No point wondering what will happen. You have to tell him at some point. Want me to come with you?”

Stonefern shook his head. He was still nervous–incredibly nervous–about having to let Birchhawk down. At the same time, he knew now what he was, who he was, and that he wasn’t weird at all for it. “I’ll tell him tomorrow,” he decided before his nerves got the better of him. “I haven’t seen my younger brothers and sisters in a while.”

Grousemane grinned. “Well, let’s go see them!” He led the way to the Eye-out thorns. Stonefern followed. Even as the ground shifted to mud that sucked at his fur and weighed him down, he felt light.

==========================

--Doverose is tall and chunky, so I imagine he calls lots of cats ‘little.’ 

--Birchhawk is a random name I came up with, do with him what you want!

--Fun fact! I myself am also aroace! Stonefern’s experience isn’t based on my own, though.

I will never pass up a good dove

Text under cut

Oh boy, I think it’s a tie between these guys

Ratbirch: paralyzed and drowned over and over by his brother

Fennelbur: flesh-eating disease

Doverose: mange (but was happy in the end)

Nettledeer: suffocation from a lack of oxygen while deep underground

Sparrowfall: ripped in half by dogs

Blackdawn: tortured over several days

Alderstar: crushed to death, dying nine times over (assuming he didn’t lose a life before)

Berrygaze: claws, teeth, and ears ripped out

Nettledeer

Aliases / Nicknames: Nettlesoar, Little Nettle

Gender: tom 

Sexuality: bisexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father

Other Relations: Barkstar (mentor)

Clan: Thunderclan

Rank: warrior, loner

Characteristics: kills in defense

Number of Victims: 1+

Number of Murders: 1+

Murder Method: slitting throat

Known Victims: Petallark

Victim Profile: pregnant she-cats

Cause of Death: suffocation, trapped in tunnel

Cautionary Tale: N/A

Story:

Nettlekit had never been close with his father. He was the kind of warrior who knew he had a son, but didn’t bother visiting him, merely checking in one day if Nettlekit ever got sick.

So Nettlekit was close with his mother, and became incredibly protective of her, especially in light of her naiveness.

Perhaps it was her belief in him, or perhaps it was to prove to his father how wrong he had been to neglect him, either way, Nettledeer became an excellent warrior, dedicating himself to helping each and every one of his Clanmates, whilst never once losing his kitlike humour and interests.

If you were to ask him yourself, he would say that he was inspired by the great heroes in the elder’s stories. He would also tell you that cats called him Nettlesoar.

While dedicating himself to his Clan, he became enemies / friends with Shadowclan warrior, Doverose. Doverose was a large, heavyset brown tom with a knack for the charismatic, which is perhaps what lead to their friendship. 

After all, it was difficult to stay enemies with a warrior when they acted like he truly believed the two of you were pals, even if he was a prey-stealer. Or maybe it was his past abandonment that caused him to seek companionship, even subconsciously.

In spite of this friendship with an enemy warrior, Nettledeer would have gone to Starclan. He was so close, as well, living a life in devotion of his mother and Clan. 

During one gathering, tensions ran high in the Clan. Word got out that Nettledeer had been letting Doverose take food from Thunderclan territory, and he was jumped by a Skyclan she-cat who apparently believed that, being between their two territories, he had put her Clan in jeapoardy.

She had been so angry, it was almost scary. Although he recognized this she-cat, and knew she had a temper. 

For some reason, no one tried to separate them. At last, Nettledeer got free, but in doing so he swung his claws, and slashed the she-cat’s throat.

A wail had instantly broke out. It turned out that the reason no one stepped in was because they were afraid of hurting the she-cat, Petallark, who was heavy-- had been heavy with kits.

Kits that Nettledeer killed.

How could he dare remain after that?

So he left, wandering unexplored territory. Then while exploring what he had thought to be an abandoned tunnel, he came across a badger. It chased him deeper and deeper down the spiraling, dirt-filled path, the walls growing tighter and tighter until Nettledeer found that he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He was out of reach, but he was stuck, and he remained there until the last of oxygen disappeared from the coffin.

Doverose

Aliases / Nicknames: Prey-Stealer, Prey-Thief

Gender: tom 

Sexuality: heterosexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, unnamed sister

Other Relations: unnamed mentor, unnamed apprentice

Clan: Shadowclan

Rank: Warrior

Characteristics: steals prey from the other Clans for fun

Number of Victims: 0

Number of Murders: 0

Murder Method: N/A

Known Victims: members of the Clans he hunted from

Victim Profile: Skyclan, Thunderclan, and Riverclan 

Cause of Death: mange

Cautionary Tale: N/A

Story:

Similarly to Nettledeer, Dovekit had a close relationship with his mother. He was popular with his Clanmates, too, charismatic in a way that was genuine and not manipulative.

He flirted with she-cats, but never tried to make them feel uncomfortable, only praising their beauty and other aspects he felt he needed to admire them for.

He stole his first prey when he was an apprentice. Technically it wasn’t stealing, as it ran across the border from his territory, but it felt thrilling, so he kept doing it, just for fun. He didn’t do it as much when he knew that that particular Clan was having food trouble, but he did do it often.

He preferred to catch food from outside his own territory than in it, and was not one to turn down a fight when he was caught.

He enjoyed Nettledeer’s confrontation, who was funny even if he was mad. They came to bicker often over the border, which quickly became reluctant friendship, and finally excitement at seeing one-another at the border and gatherings.

Doverose was devastated when Nettledeer left, and knew that he was partly to blame for the queen’s death.

After a moon, he decided to look for him. Instead, he came across a sickly loner that he opted to help instead. A bad move, it would seem. Doverose’s fur would fall and become patchy, and his skin felt bumpy. 

He knew he was sick, and he knew it was bad. But it didn’t matter much, anymore. He died on a hill, watching Silverpelt, and felt only gratitude for the beautiful view.

Additional Information:

--Best frenemies. Nettledeer often insists that they’re enemies, but everyone, including Doverose, knows otherwise.

--Doverose went to the Dark Forest because he stole so much prey. Nettledeer may have acted in self-defense, but bold of you to presume he will allow himself in Starclan.

--Sites only worked on my computer but wouldn’t download, so had to resort to screenshots. Doverose actually has short fur, he’s just really big.

--The queen already had a temper, and being pregnant increased it tenfold