Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
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These children are parented by Harley (ian) and Rhiannon (achromatic). Rhiannon and Harley met approximately a year before Rhiannon came to Primal Instinct. Harley does not know Rhiannon currently lives in Primal Instinct ! He is simply returning to the place that was once his home.
Harley is the son of belated Jynx E'tan and notorious Katie rped by @ash. As such, this litter is very important to the three of us. As such, we want to ensure that they get adopted by folks that will actually use them. We also reserve the right to reassign them at will if they go inactive/get deleted in an ac.
That bein said, because they're important to us, we will have lots of fun with them <3 reunion with mom who abandoned you ? check. having to deal with your dad having some sort of weird psychosis because pi is nothing like he remembered ? check. intersibling dynamics ? check. it's everything you could ever want <3
ONCE ALL OF THEM ARE TAKEN this thread will turn into their entrance into pi
here they are ! remember they are TRAINEES
Mal - oldest child vibes, silver tom with blue eyes. With charm and charisma, Mal was named after his grandfather Jynx. His full name was Mallacht, the word for a curse in his mother's tongue, but as his father couldn't pronounce it right, it became Mal. He's skilled at diplomacy, comes across as a natural leader. Athletic, responsible, charming and a womanizer, these traits mask the fact that deep inside, there's a part of him that likes seeing cats hurt and likes feeling powerful. More often than not, the subject of his anger is his brother, Kier, though he always has a face he puts to the world because he can't be anything other than perfect. RPED BY Delrowe
Kier - middle child vibes, skinny black tom with grey eyes. His name means the dark one, and in a way, it describes him more than just his pelt. He's never been athletic or smart like his siblings are and his stature is smaller than the others, and that sort of makes him the scapegoat of his family. His siblings were born lucky, he was lucky to be born. Often bullied by his siblings, he's had to build walls to protect himself, with a sharp tongue and a wariness for others. His family expects nothing from him and in a way, it's made him a lot more bitter, though he doesn't stand a chance standing up against his siblings. RPED BY fox
Kate – youngest child vibes, tortoiseshell she-cat with ?? eyes. Named after her grandmother, the infamous Katie, she's the perfect child. Clever and conniving, she's got a lot of expectations riding on her and being the smartest of the bunch, she's got the rest of them wrapped around her finger. idk what else uwu ash fill in RPED BY @ash
Harley had done his best to avoid the decision he was making, he really had. The kits he had in tow had made it their first seven months without knowing this place existed, and the son of former Jynx E'tan had been very intentional about that being the case. He had done his best to instill morals into them, and he was quite certain that any attempt he had made in making the trio into good cats was quickly going to be squandered as soon as they crossed the territory line. He couldn't help it, though. Harley thought he could be a single father, and he'd ... somewhat succeeded for a while, but it was not a job he was made for, especially now that Harley himself was getting sick. The tom's skin clung to his ribs; he wasn't quite yet completely skeletal, but he was wasting away. Although he had spent his entire childhood in the Shaman's den with his mother, the tom hadn't picked anything up from those moons; healing was for his sisters, not him. He was slightly bitter about that. After all, had he known his life would take him fleeing like a refugee from the League, maybe he would have paid more attention to his sisters' lessons. He needed medical attention and help with his children. After considering the options long and hard, he knew that he had no choice: it was time to come home.
He glanced back at the trio behind him. "Remember what I told you. Do not speak unless spoken to. Stay behind me at all times," he ordered as he found himself in a seated position a fox length away from the border. "These cats aren't going to be friendly, but that's okay. You have a blood tie to this place, and like it or not, they'll let us in." Harley hoped he was telling the truth, but he wasn't entirely sure. This place was his home, his birthright, but he understood all too well what it meant to survive here. He had tried to prepare his children as much as possible for this, the fact that this world was not like the barn or forest they'd grown up in. Here, it was dog eat dog, survival of the fittest, the currency was blood. There was no saving them from it, though. Not anymore.
Kier stayed close to his father, purposely keeping him between his brother and himself and sending furtive glances at Mal past Harley’s chest every so often. It wasn’t clear whether he actually favoured his father’s presence, especially when surrounded by all these new landscapes, or if he just wanted him to think he did, wanted him to think he was the doting, obedient son fussing over him during his sickness. He walked with that peculiar stooped posture of his, his little paws recoiling sharply almost the second they touched the ground, like he was being burned by each step. His head hung low, his tail was curled at the tip and kept flicking to and fro like he was thinking a thousand thoughts he wasn’t saying out loud, and he was almost as skinny as his father. His siblings always took the lion’s share of anything they caught; he’d accepted long ago that he would have to make do with bones and scraps, or whatever darting lizards he could slam his paw down upon.
“Yes, yes,” he replied quietly, turning his head slightly and giving his father a smiling look out of the corner of his eyes. His voice was sweet enough to border on sickly, like he was humouring an old man close to senility who hadn’t yet written his will, or like he was sharing some private in-joke with Harley that, in reality, only Kier was in on. He always spoke like that, like he was surveying a globe upon which everyone else was just a bit player, finding all the comings and goings they themselves didn’t understand so wonderfully funny.
He didn’t know what to think of their father uprooting their little life and carting them off to some home from Harley’s youth. The life hadn’t been happy by any means, at least not for him. Really, it had been small, boring, and lonely. The only real company he’d ever had was his father and his siblings, leaving him rather poorly socialised. Starved of stimulating interaction or meaningful events, and soon coming to believe - perhaps precisely because, with a sister so perfect and a brother so strong, there had to be something that was his and his alone, and surely the only thing left was brains - that he was leagues above them all, Kier had taken to muttering to himself, holding entire back-and-forth conversations and losing himself for hours in his own, superior head. He laughed at the jokes of the companion who lived inside his skull, told him of his plans, scorned his siblings, and felt great affection and recognition when he agreed with him and flattered him about being better than Kate and likely to outlast Mal. When he came home each night, it was with a smile on his face, feeling invigorated and restored by the company of the only other being who was first and foremost on his level, and secondly who actually acknowledged him at all. He’d never admit to the latter. So, he was a little perturbed at being dragged along to whatever sorry little place his father was from, especially because he’d hardly been consulted; but, mostly, he was rather intrigued by the prospect of being around actual other cats - all beneath him of course, but interesting all the same. What little he’d gleaned from Harley about royalty in his lineage didn’t help matters. These were, no doubt, country bumpkins, with accents and silly little customs different from his own, waiting to be ruled over and guided by the grandson of kings and queens.
“But if we do meet with trouble,” Kier added in that slimy voice of his, looking past Harley to Mal, “you’ll protect me, won’t you, brother dear?” He smiled, the barest hint of teeth showing past his lips, and his right pupil dilated, coming to almost match the permanently blown left one.
What her little family failed to realize was this: Kate belonged here. Not only did she look quite like her grandmother, but she was much like her in many ways. Her green eyes stared forward, promptly ignoring her brothers. Kate had no time to worry about their on goings. Perhaps that was one thing that set her apart from her grandmother. Katie had been rather family oriented, and would shred any cat who dare lay a single claw on her blood. Kate? Kate felt no real connection to her siblings, had never known her mother that she could remember. Her father? Yes, she did want to make him proud, would often seek his approval on things.
However, something was different here. The feel of the wood here was much different. The way her father sat, she could see something change in him. Her eyes had observed the tom for some time as they awaited these cats to find them. The league, Primal Instinct. It was a place that the three knew hardly anything about, yet here Harley was, on edge. Telling them not to even speak unless a cat should ask them to.
Kate turned her gaze away from Harley and locked it forward. Hearing her brother speak to their oldest sibling made her smirk. "What's wrong Kier, scared are you?" She quipped at Kieras her striking gaze turned to him. She'd always seen him as weaker, despite the fact he was older than her. Kate was shorter than her siblings, but she was more solid than Kier was. She was positive she could take him down, and she never hid her willingness to try.
"Don't worry brother, if Mal won't protect you, your little sister will." It was meant to be a stab, her thick coat rubbing against his as she walked past him to sit next to Mal. Her older brother was larger than her, by far. "Isn't that right, dear brother."
Kate didn't feel fear, in fact, she had never yet felt it before.
“You know me,” Kier replied quietly with a venomous, hunched little smile all wrapped up in pretty bows, following Kate with his eyes, “always afraid.” It sounded like an affectionate joke, teasing and light-hearted. It also sounded like the grains of sand silently rushing through Kate’s hourglass, counting down to the end.
When his sister brushed against him, Kier twitched back, his side spasming at the discomfort of being touched. He tilted his head and gave her a smile, his eyes not leaving her even as she turned away from him to sit beside Mal. Of course he caught the jab; he tucked it away for future reference. If one day she were begging and broken, weeping ‘dear brother, darling brother, don’t you remember how I always loved you?’, he’d draw out all the insignificant little jibes that amounted to a life and laugh in her face. “What would I do without you?” he replied, sweet and quiet.
Kier turned his attention to his father, looking up at him for a moment before craning his neck up and giving his cheek a few fussing licks. He struggled to stop himself from retching at the sensation of touching another cat, much less using his tongue on one; Harley was the only one he could tolerate it with, and, secretly, the daddy’s boy sometimes liked to be groomed like he was still a kitten. “How are you feeling, father?” he asked gently, searching his clouded gaze worriedly. All the while he was thinking about scraping the fur from his tongue, about how it was creeping to the back of his throat, about how he was going to throw up. “Do you need anything? Will this new home of ours have a healer?” He’d picked up a little out on the moors, but most of his medicinal abilities tilted towards the poison kind. Many a night he had sat around the fire, watching his brother devour hares and grouse through the licking flames and bleary smoke, and imagined the foxglove growing on the hillside. How easy it would have been… He twitched slightly at the thought, his pupil dilating again as his heart rate increased.
Mal trudged along, in step right beside Harley. His own thoughts were swimming about their new destination. The siblings knew nothing of what was to come, but Mal had a sneaking suspicion he would thrive. There was an air of unquestioned authority and ominous intentions in his father’s voice that warned them not to speak unless spoken to. The silver tom found himself hoping that he could one day be the source of that authority. He felt he was the undeniable “leader” of his family, even over his father. Harley was too…nice. He loved him, but he found him to be a little too hopeful of good things. What kind of life did Harley have in this place? Was he a value to the group? Was he bullied and ridiculed? Did he blend with the common crowd? His curiosity was piqued with this secret life his father had led without any of his children knowing. He had hopes that this place would be a stepping stone to the young tom’s desire for power. It became clear to him as he grew that that’s what he wanted. To rule over a group of cats that admired and adored him. Not that he would ever share that wish with anyone, however. They simply wouldn’t understand.
Mal held his head high as he padded along, almost poking fun at Kier’s lack of confidence with the way he held himself but decided against it. His younger brother resembled a serpent of some kind in Mal’s eyes. Not a rattler, those were too bold to be compared to his brother, but a snake indeed. He didn’t completely dismiss Kier, he knew he could hold his own if he needed to. Mal was confident that he would never try to best him though. Kate was another story. She would be the rattler. The two were closer than he and Kier, but he never quite turned his back on the little she-cat. Her calm demeanor sent shivers down his spine every once in awhile. If any cat stood in his way, it would be his dear little sister. The three siblings mostly spoke sweetly to each other, but it was all show. The venom laced their every word and all three of them were masters of passive-aggression. If any cat had a brain, they would pick up the thick tension in their glares and empty compliments to each other. Kier and Kate, his brother and sister, his flesh and blood. He felt a tie to them, because they were family, but he wasn’t afraid to sever that tie.
It took him a moment to even realize his brother had spoken to him but he mentally rolled his eyes at the question. He looked past his father and his blue eyes locked with Kier’s greys, “Of course, that’s what family is for, right? We’re only as strong as our weakest link,” He answered, now glancing to Kate as they slowed and she sat next to him. “And we must protect that link at any cost” he added, over animating his expression and softening his eyes to portray genuine care. In all honesty, he would protect him. Not for his love for his brother, but his love for a fight. He was a skilled and strong opponent and relished in the flash of fear in his prey’s eyes before the final blow.
He turned back to his father, “How much further, Harley?” Mal never referred to him as father. He wasn’t quite sure why he called him by his name but father never stuck. He saw him as his equal, if not inferior to him, so calling him Daddy seemed a bit out of place. He lashed his tail as Kier’s voice reached his ears once more, what a suck up he was. Harley’s little pet.
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POSTEDSept 20, 2021 12:45:41 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
He sighed slightly; his children were going to be the death of him. The way that they interacted reminded him of the ways he and his own siblings interacted, both his full siblings and his half-siblings. There had been nine of them between the two litters, and Harley had been part of the damned litter, a litter born of power and domination. His tail twitched slightly, before first responding to Kier with a blink of his baby blues. "Your grandmother was a healer of this place at one point," he meowed. "They are called Shamans, and their tradition of healing was strong." He glanced over at Kate; she reminded him so much of his mother. She'd adapt quickly. His sons, particularly Kier, he was less convinced. They'd have to be. Just like he and his littermates, they would either sink or swim.
There was a part of him that worried about himself, returning back to this place. Harley had spent what felt like the last half a decade reforming himself, reintegrating himself, forming a single Harley, one not bound by his father's rule. But, even just being close to this place, he could feel the old Harley, the Harley born of trauma and blood, return. This was a dangerous Harley, the Harley that recognized that part of survival was becoming just as monstrous as the rest of them. Would he be able to do this? Would he return to himself? What would that mean for him, to return to the creature he had banished into non-existence?
His thought was distracted by his son referring to him as Harley. He didn't like it, but he allowed it, simply because there were bigger fish to fry. However, he could tell his son felt himself above Harley, and that stirred the monster within him. The impulse was always there, to put his child in his place in the same ways that Harley had been put in his place. He had tried their whole life to prevent himself from slipping into the madness, but there was an anger that was below the surface. It was precisely this anger, this stirring of the monster, that he worried about returning to Primal Instinct. His children would be surprised, perhaps, by the cat he would become in the upcoming moons.
"As it turns out, we are here. Welcome home," he meowed, although there was a slight tension in his voice. His eyes scanned across the earth, anticipation linger in his paws. The time where his blood would have proved his royalty, earned him honor and respect, had long passed. How would they respond to him? How had it changed? He didn't know the answer, but he figured he'd learn sooner rather than later, because it was at that point he heard footsteps. He glanced back at his children. "On your best behavior or I'll kill you myself," he meowed lowly, his shoulders tensing. He had been gentle before, but the time for fawning over the trio was over.
Post by achromatic on Sept 20, 2021 13:42:05 GMT -5
If somebody asked Rhiannon about her kits, she'd give them a blank look, completely confused about what they were talking about. She didn't remember the kits, or mostly, she had blocked out that fact completely. She had been so much younger, and she had abandoned them quickly, even before their eyes even opened. It was fortunate really that another cat in the barn had kits a couple of moons earlier than his; she had disappeared with Hywel almost immediately after.
Even now, she wouldn't have known what they looked like. Despite Harley being the one to tell her about Primal Instinct, she had never quite associated him with this place. It felt like a lifetime ago when she had last seen the tom, and wandering through the forests of the league, she breathed in the scent of ferns and wet soil, the scent of the early morning always reminded her of how far they had gone, and how despite it all, there were still similar scents in this forest as there were back home in the–
She hesitated, pausing in her tracks. For a brief moment, she was almost certain she could smell something familiar, like the smell of hay and a type of grass she didn't quite recognize and...no, she couldn't be correct. That smell she recognized, but it had disappeared as quickly as it came. Surely he wouldn't be around? She had yet to see him, or anyone similar to the cats he described. Surely she had found something different to what he described right? Why would he be here?
Her eyes narrowed, as she moved forward, slowly in a prowl that seemed much more dangerous than the brisk pace she had been going with earlier. The scent came once more, briefly crossing her twitching nose, but whoever this was–she wouldn't admit it until she saw him–he wasn't alone this time. It didn't take long for her to come across the silhouette of four cats in the distance.
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POSTEDSept 20, 2021 14:57:51 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
The recognition was instant. As soon as she was close enough that he could see her clearly, he knew. The noise he made was audible, somewhere between a gasp and groan. He didn't understand: how was she here? Their paths had crossed once before, of course they had, but that didn't explain what she was doing here and now . He took one further step in front of the kittens; of course, there was a part of him that was relieved. At least he knew that she wouldn't hurt the trio behind him. After all, they were as much her flesh and blood as his own. Yes, this was the mother of his children, a she-cat he hadn't seen in so many moons. The affair between the two had been a late summer romance between two cats who craved more from life. He had turned to her as a way to feel something, anything. She had turned to him perhaps in part by rebellion. If this was the case, though, if she rebelled against Hywell by interacting with him, the rebellion was short lived. Four moons, their time together at the barn had been four moons. That was seasons ago.
He didn't understand how she was here. Of course, he'd told her the stories of his homeland, the start of it all. He was a good storyteller, his words painting pictures of pain and power and life and death as they looked up at the stars from the hole in the barn's roof. Those nights had been sweet, the crickets loud enough to partially drown out his speech. Those nights were long gone, though. He had become acutely aware that he'd never have a night like that again the day he woke up to her absence. Just like that, the feline who had cured the summertime sadness had been gone, leaving him with three infants... Why had she returned to the place of his stories? Why was she here?
Harley blinked the thoughts out of his mind as the baby blue tom shifted his weight. He sheathed his claws back; he didn't know if he had ever loved her, if love was even possible for him, but he was confident enough that he wouldn't have to fight her, at least not with tooth and claw.
"Rhiannon," he meowed, his voice low. His accent danced across the sounds; at one point, he had stumbled across her name, but now, his tongue danced across each syllable in perfect harmony. He let out a soft, wry laugh at the absurdity of it all. "I'd hoped that one day, we would reunite. However, I would have never expected our reunion to be here."
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Sept 20, 2021 17:30:40 GMT -5
The three-headed god must've been playing some sort of trick on her because surely it couldn't be him again. She regarded them with a cold, calculating look, as if she didn't recognize any of them at all, though it was unclear whether that was some type of façade she had put on or whether she truly didn't recognize a single one of them. Years ago when she had met this tom, she had been young and naive, little more than what a trainee's age would be around here. She hadn't known what she wanted truly until she met him.
And now all she knew was she didn't want him anymore. He was an old fling, something she had disregarded like an outfit that no longer fit her. Eyes that had once been full of excitement at his presence, were only filled with apathy now. Of course. "Harley, was it?" her whiskers twitched once, as if amused that their tables had turned. Instead of him welcoming her, it seemed as if it was time to return the favour. "I suppose it's kind of ironic isn't it? Me, 'welcoming' you back to your home?" She had lingered a little longer on the word welcome, because the sight of him surely wasn't at all, welcoming.
Her eyes landed on the younger cats next to him, to Mal, then Kier, then Katie, her frosty expression never changing once, never shining with the recognition that they surely would've dreamed of. The saying went that a mother would always recognize their child, but in this case, it was completely wrong. It seemed as if she had no clue why he had brought them along.
"You have company too," she spoke dryly, as if the words tasted bitter on her tongue, "you all look like a mess. The world didn't treat you as kindly as you had hoped? I always thought you'd be a wandering type, but you seem rather unsuited for it."
Kier twitched slightly at being called the weakest link but stayed silent. His gut prickled at the warmth and gentleness in Mal's voice as he spoke to Kate, telling himself it was because the insincerity of it enraged him. He would never admit it was because all he wanted was for his big brother to speak to him like that and mean it. But then his father was speaking to him again - just him; that made him feel smug - and Kier turned his attention back to him, sitting up straight and neat and smiling up at him obediently, the very picture of a dutiful listener learning about his family history. "Ah," he replied when Harley told him of his grandmother, but his mouth just formed the word with no sound. He nodded faintly. Frankly, he had no interest in a legacy of healers - if a cat couldn't fend for themselves, if they were useless, they deserved to die. What was the point in fussing over them? But Harley was speaking of his own mother, so Kier pretended to be awed. He almost snapped at Mal to address their father by his proper title, not by Harley, but he didn't; all that happened was he went from gazing up at his father lovingly to tensing and hunching his shoulders up, turning his head slowly to glare at his brother.
And then, there was an unfamiliar she-cat speaking to his father. Kier turned, sitting close beside Harley and watching her in silence, his eyes twitching over her. To him, she-cats were more or less an inferior breed, decent to look at when they were quiet and not much else when they weren't. This one was certainly attractive, if a bit insubordinate.
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POSTEDSept 20, 2021 22:27:24 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
"You're so cruel, my dear," he meowed with a smile. "You couldn't forget a face like mine, could you?" Already, it seemed, Primal Instinct was taking its hold on him. "I love a good ironic twist," he then mewed, flicking his tail back and forth. "I certainly did not expect this one. Were my stories so enchanting that you had to investigate yourself?" The tom blinked twice, before moving his gaze off of her for the first time. To say Harley had once loved Rhiannon was a lie; instead, their romance had been a glimpse into what could have been, if he had been born a different man. Happiness, domesticity, though, those things were not for him; no, he still had to pay for his father's sins. Perhaps that was why he had accepted his role of father instead of abandoning the trio himself; it was penance for the spilled blood that created him.
"Company," he repeated with a shake of his head. "Surely, Rhiannon, you know that this is more than company. Or did you forget the three lives that you left in my paws?" Harley shifted his weight. Perhaps he should have been more delicate in his reveal of the truth, but at this moment, his children's responses about coming face to face with their mother were the last thing on his mind. Instead, the she-cat in front of him held his focus. She always had had a funny way of doing that, of somehow convincing the tom that she was the only cat in the room. Certainly, this wasn't intentional: it simply was.
He laughed slightly when she concluded. "You chose to take my freedom to wander. It's hard to travel when you have mouths to feed. But, you wouldn't know that, would you?"
Up to this point, as his father and the she-cat had their venomous little back-and-forth, Kier had been sitting wide-eyed and silent beside Harley. But now, blow came after blow, shaking the self-confident veneer he always wore - the three lives you left in my paws; it's hard to travel when you have mouths to feed. The last one especially, spoken so bitterly, almost made him flinch; it sounded like his father was saying they were nothing but burdens. His shoulders had risen up around his head like they held wings that might hug and comfort him as he stared at his... mother. It was the closest to thrown off, to speechless, to unravelled that he'd ever been. He didn't know what to do. His thoughts kept trying to get back off the ground, whirring like cogs with something caught between them, but continually failing and falling back limp. He couldn't think. For once in his life, he was consciously aware of how absolutely his emotions were consuming him. He suddenly looked extraordinarily young, no more than the mere seven moons he truly was.
This was his mother. The mother he’d given up ever having in his life. The mother who hadn’t wanted him. The mother who had abandoned them. For the first time, he thought of himself and his siblings as a singular unit - them. Us. We were left behind. We were abandoned. His mouth opened and worked silently, but no words came out. He was beginning to tremble, overwhelmed by the crushing flood of his own feelings. He looked like a small, lost kit, with his ears too huge for his little head and his narrow eyes grown wide, almost afraid. He sat still and silent, eyes darting between them like he was a child watching his parents argue, frightened of one of them striking a blow. Daddy, don't hurt mama.
But his soul-deep pain, his fear, his vulnerability, his innocence, didn't last long. Finally, he got himself together, pushing everything back down - and it was like his demeanour changed instantly, like he was scrambling to rectify a mistake both in his own mind and in his treatment of this she-cat. Rhiannon. She wasn't just a pretty little bit of skirt - she was his mother. She was important. She deserved respect. “Mother,” he purred, standing and walking over to brush his cheek against hers. He pulled back to smile at her, eyes full of love hateful enough to bite. “A pleasure to meet you at last. Allow me to introduce myself." (That's it, get in first before your siblings can; make sure you're the first she sees). "I’m Kier, your second-born son. My life has long been a chasm that you have now filled. I can scarcely believe that someone as beautiful as you could have created someone like me." His voice was charming, self-deprecating; he ducked his head, feigning comedic, blushing embarrassment.
It certainly wouldn’t end up being an issue that Kier, somewhat preoccupied with the baser instincts, was now meeting his mother when he was almost fully grown and had none of the socially-expected filial-maternal feelings and… qualms. It certainly wouldn’t end up leading to any twisted, confused impulses that a certain psychoanalyst would find immense delight in. "The gods are kind indeed to have brought us together after so long."
He lifted one of his mother’s paws with his own and kissed its back. Looking up at his mother, eyes shining and wide, he was the perfect vision of filial affection and obedience.
Post by achromatic on Sept 21, 2021 2:46:40 GMT -5
Harley's jabs didn't make Rhiannon flinch nor react, instead, it almost seemed as if she found some sort of amusement from it. She had always been rather spoiled for choice; having a brother who would literally do anything for you made things easy enough, and she had learned her ways around manipulating others pretty early on in life, from this cat exactly. A smirk appeared on her face, her half-lidded grey eyes, looking him up and down as if judging him, clearly saying one thing. If she had been in his place, she'd never look as worn and beaten down as he did, the bag of skin and bones he was.
Perhaps a child would've expected, even dreamed that the first time they met their mother, the first moment she realized they were her own, she'd give that faint gasp, one of surprise as the reality dawned upon her, the surprise turning into a loving fondness that glowed from her eyes, welcoming her long-lost kits to her arms, bemoaning the fact that she had never intended to leave the in the first place, that she was so happy they were home. Unfortunately, Rhiannon wasn't that type of cat. Her expression didn't change, not a single shred of recognition seemed to filter through her gaze, her eyes flashing for a moment as she regarded them with the cold calculation she had reserved for their father, as if judging them for their inability to truly thrive, for being just empty mouths to feed, as if saying I could've done better.
Not a word was spared for them, no kindness, no malice. "You know I've only sought one thing in my life," she replied evenly, ignoring the children for their father, "this is just another stepping stone on that journey, though I suppose using your family home might seem a little cruel, no? I'm afraid it's nothing like you once told me. Those stories about your long line of kings? I mentioned your mother's name once; not a single cat seemed to recognize it. It's not my fault you decided to take on that little martyr mission of yours; I never told you to stay with them. You could've easily left them to whatever hungry mouth the disgorging one has."
She would've bared them no mind at all if Kier hadn't suddenly appeared, the bat-like cretin already simpering with his smooth tone, smooth like oil slick rather than velvet. Kier. The dark one; it surely fit his posture. He certainly seemed like the kind who'd hang in his siblings' shadows. If she had been a wiser cat, she'd have kept the impassiveness as she stared down at the creature she barely recognized, but the moment his lips touched her paw, she immediately yanked it back, an expression of horror and disgust seemed to cross her features for the briefest of moments, as if asking: what kind of monster did I bring into this world?
The look didn't last long, but she didn't seem to regard the two other siblings–less...horrifying creatures, it seemed–with any more kindness than she did with her middle child. In fact, it seemed as if she was completely disinterested with all of this. "–and why did you bring them back?" she scowled, "you know exactly what our deal was." She had never wanted to see her spawn again.
