nimbusclan

[nimbusclan]

My favorite panel sketch from the upcoming moon, before I ruin it with lineart

[nimbusclan]

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Who's gonna tell him......... The Sequel

[nimbusclan]

Moon 1

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As the two cats climb the slope away from everything they’ve ever known, Moonpaw sends a fervent prayer to StarClan as thanks for sparing her brother.

She watches the strong shape of his shoulders as they move under his pelt, carrying him up the mountain, the swish of his tail as it guides her forward, and knows that without him, she’d have lain down in that cave and let the darkness have her. Without her clan – without her brother – she’s nothing.

With only the moonlight and twinkling Silverpelt to guide them forward, the mountain seems ominous and threatening in the dark. Outcroppings of rock throw insidious shadows over them, spires of stone stab high into the sky and curve like the talons of an eagle. Fogpaw lowers his nose to a scraggly shrub that clings stubbornly to the unforgiving landscape and adjusts his course for the border of their territory. Moonpaw slinks after him, head low and ears flattened nervously against her skull.

She scents it before she sees it, the border with their neighboring clan strong with the scents of foreign cats. “We’re here,” Fogpaw murmurs, brushing a comforting tail over Moonpaw’s back before stepping forward, claw-tips straddling the edge of the scent-marks denoting the line between territories as he lifts his head and caterwauls into the night.

After the sound of his announcement fades across the mountainside, he turns to look back at Moonpaw, his cobalt eyes round and unsure. The line of his body is bold, his tail and head held high, but Moonpaw has grown beside him since their nursery days. She knows that he’s nervous, even if he’s not showing it outright. His eyes shine with apprehension.

Just then, a clatter of pebbles alerts the pair of them to movement on the other side of the border. Moonpaw presses herself to Fogpaw’s flank, body tense, as the shadows melt away to reveal three neighboring patrol cats, alerted by Fogpaw’s yowl.

“What is your business at our border so late at night?” The largest of the cats spits, unkindly, flanked by the other two of his clan members. His eyes flit between the two siblings, sizing them up with an unimpressed frown.

“Our home has been destroyed, and our clan with it,” Fogpaw explains. Moonpaw feels unsteady under the wary gaze of the other cats and wants to sink her claws into the rock beneath her pads for a sense of balance, but refrains, not wanting the action to be interpreted as a threat. “We ask that you welcome us into your clan. We’re only apprentices.”

The large cat bursts into laughter, his voice rough and mocking. The two cats beside him snicker, the three of them exchanging amused glances.

“As if we’re going to accept you scrawny rejects into our clan,” the large cat continues to laugh, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as he grins. “You’re no more than rogues now, if what you say is true. We don’t take in rogues.”

“You better scram, before we make you,” one of the other cats says. His muscles are thick, bulging under his pelt, and Moonpaw hasn’t had nearly enough battle training in the scant few moons she’s been an apprentice to feel ready for a confrontration. Even if she felt as though she could take on this single cat should she need to, they’re outnumbered. “We don’t take kindly to rogues trespassing on our territory.”

Fogpaw scoffs, affronted, and Moonpaw’s fur spikes along her back, a lightning bolt of fear racing down her spine. “We’re not on your territory,” Fogpaw spits, gesturing between each of their groups. “We’re still on our side of the border.”

“You don’t have a clan anymore,” the third cat jeers. “What border?”

Fogpaw bristles, tail lashing furiously, and the other cats get to their paws like they’re ready to make true on their threat to run them off. “Fogpaw,” Moonpaw murmurs, brushing her tail along his side. “Let’s not do this. We should leave.”

Fogpaw spares the other cats one last, angered look, and then turns tail and stalks away, calling for Moonpaw to follow. The mean laughter of the clan cats echoes behind them as they turn the corner and head down a slope that hugs the mountainside, loose pebbles clattering away under their paws as they make their way down.

Rogues. Moonpaw shivers, hastening her step to keep up with Fogpaw’s furious pace. “What are we going to do now, Fogpaw?” Moonpaw asks, anxious. “We don’t have a clan anymore.”

“We are the clan,” Fogpaw reminds her. “We are NimbusClan. And what we’re going to do right now is hunt, because I’m starving and we need to keep our strength up.”

What about the Warrior Code? Moonpaw thinks to herself, padding after Fogpaw as the terrain levels out and they find themselves in a sparsely wooded clearing she’d only passed through a couple times when out with her mentor. Will StarClan punish them if they eat outside of the camp? 

They’re the only two cats left, so StarClan surely will understand their need. There are no other cats to bring fresh-kill back to. Moonpaw settles into a crouch at the base of a tree, tucked between the roots as Fogpaw slinks behind a bush and scents the air for prey. Exhausted, hungry, and grieving, Moonpaw doesn’t have the energy to hunt right now, so she watches her brother flick the tip of his tail as he stalks across the ground, the light of the moon that filters through the sparse trees flickering against his dappled pelt.

Fogpaw works hard to catch them dinner, chasing a squirrel halfway up a tree and just managing to sink his teeth into its tail. It shrieks an alarm call into the quiet of the night, but Fogpaw pulls it from the tree with a hard tug and lands nimbly on the ground, giving it a swift bite to the neck to silence its cries. He drags the fresh-kill over to where Moonpaw crouches and noses it towards her.

When she doesn’t eat immediately, eyeing him with worry, he shrugs and tucks his paws under himself. ��You eat first. Everything that’s happened this evening has given me a stomachache.”

Moonpaw drapes her tail sympathetically over her brother and tears the squirrel into equal portions for them, pushing Fogpaw’s share towards him. “You said it yourself, we have to keep our strength up. Eat at least a little.”

He flashes her a small, quick smile and digs in, the two cats pressed side by side as they eat. Disposing of the remains of their meal so as not to attract any scavengers, Moonpaw spots a hollowed out log for them to spend the rest of the night in that shelters them from the mountain winds. It’s nothing at all like her nest back home, the bark hard and cold beneath her pelt, but it’s safe for now and at the very least, she has the comfort of her brother’s warm body pressed up against hers to help lull her to sleep.

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[nimbusclan]

PROLOGUE - part 1

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here it starts! very smart move of me, someone who almost never draws backgrounds, to immediately start my comic very bg-heavy- well, at least it finally forced me to get used to them

I'm very inexperienced with making any full comics like this so thanks for sticking around to see where this goes!

[nimbusclan]

To this day the middle panel of Honeystar saving Tempestmask is one of my favorites

[nimbusclan]

Howdy! Just wanted to say hi and say I’m a huge fan of your work! The like incredibly clean lined style with the soft rendering is so pretty and dreamlike

Waaaah, thank you so much!! What a nice thing to say!! Lineart is, like, my favorite part of the drawing process, so it's fun to hear that it comes across to others as well.

Thanks for saying hi!!

[nimbusclan]

Have a cute lil thumbnail sketch from the upcoming moon while I spend the next billion years trying to finish 8 panels lmao

[nimbusclan]

Refs for the recently introduced StarClan cats!

Pitchstar (dead): Tom, senior, bronze eyes, rosette pattern, short fur. Leader, formerly apprenticed Fogpaw. Charismatic, good speaker, clever. 147m (in life).

Frostcrest (dead): She-cat, adult, copper eyes, sokoke coat, short fur. Warrior, loyal, good kitsitter. Mother of Moonpaw and Fogpaw. 70m (in life).

[nimbusclan]

Interlude 0-1

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Swirling clouds encircle the summit of Star Reach, stirred as if by a breeze.

No wind blows here in StarClan. Frostcrest settles delicately beside the leader she had in life, curling her tail neatly over her paws.

“She’s hardly more than a kit, Pitchstar.”

“Moonpaw will not fall,” The old, dark bengal replies. His eyes are fixed unwaveringly on the churning, writhing clouds below him. Frostcrest’s gaze drifts to it. A blurry, rippled image of her son floats amidst the mist. He pads along a mountain trail, unaware that the eyes of StarClan are upon him. 

Frostcrest’s face twitches, her whiskers tightening. 

“After all,” Pitchstar continues, “she has her brother with her.”

[Previous] [Beginning] [Next]

[nimbusclan]

Refs for our starter kitties!

Moonpaw: A pale tabby she-cat, eyes of sunlit ice, medium fur length. Nervous, picky nest-builder. 8m old.

Fogpaw: A white, unusually spotted (rosette) pale gray tom, cobalt eyes, medium fur length. Daring, quick to make peace, picky nest-builder. 8m old.

[nimbusclan]

Moon 0

[Next]

After the dust settles, the silence that follows is deafening.

It presses against Moonpaw’s eardrums, suffocating her and sucking all the air from her lungs. The only other sound in the apprentice's den is the panting of her brother’s shallow, rapid inhales of breath, knocking hard against Moonpaw’s own ribcage. His body is warm against hers, his muscles taut and hard like the walls of rock that surround them. 

“Pitchstar?” Moonpaw mews into the dark. The blackness is so thick she can hardly see even with her pupils as wide as the boulder that’s blocking the entrance to their den. “Frostcrest?”

“The kits,” Fogpaw’s voice shakes in her ear. It’s utterly wrecked, twisted with fear. “Condorkit!” He screeches. “Whisperkit!”

There is no response. Only the deafening, crushing silence.

“Fogpaw, we have to find a way out of here,” Moonpaw mews. “We have to help them.” All of her fur is standing on end, fluffed out to twice her size. Despite the silence, the yowls of her clanmates echo in Moonpaw’s ears. The way their cries had cut off so abruptly– Moonpaw shivers. She can’t think about it. She can’t. 

Fogpaw leaps forward, claws scraping uselessly against the rock wedged into the entrance. All of NimbusClan’s dens are hollows that have been carved away by time within a cave set into the base of the mountain they call home. Home has always felt so safe to Moonpaw. Of course, she’s known the dangers of the mountain ever since she was a kit – older warriors and mentors would often warn that falling rocks are one of the deadliest threats to an unaware cat. The mountain is strong, protective, but can be deadly - just like any warrior. She could never have imagined it could harm the camp, despite the warnings she grew up with. Tucked away into its cozy little cave, this camp has lasted moons and moons, through many generations of cats. A tragedy of this magnitude is… it was impossible.

Moonpaw huddles in the middle of the den, shivering with terror as Fogpaw hisses in frustration and scrambles on top of the boulder, scraping at a few smaller rocks balanced atop it. Suddenly, moonlight streams in through a crack Fogpaw has managed to punch through the rocks, illuminating stripes of both cats’ pale fur.

“Keep going!” Moonpaw meows, leaping to her paws, but Fogpaw doesn’t need the encouragement. He’s already pawing with renewed vigor, scraping away at the rocks as they fall away and bounce against the floor of the den. Each clatter of stone on stone sends a stab of ice cold fear through Moonpaw’s heart. The cacophonous sound of rocks tumbling against each other as they filled the camp, shaking the ground and vibrating up through Moonpaw’s pelt as she was ripped from sleep, rushes back to her. She has to force down the bile that rises in her throat as the terror threatens to overwhelm her.

Soon, Fogpaw has cleared enough of the smaller rocks to squeeze his head and shoulders through, and he beckons Moonpaw with his tail. “Let’s go, let’s go– our clanmates– Moonpaw, hurry–”

Moonpaw scrambles up the rock after her brother, squeezing herself through the small opening after him. The sight that greets the two apprentices has Moonpaw’s blood freezing in her veins.

There’s not a single whisker-length of camp that isn’t covered in rubble. There’s barely any space left at the camp entrance, only a sliver between the arch of the cave wall above their heads and the boulders that crowd together beneath it that lets the light of the moon stream in.

“Locuststripe! Loudtalon!” Fogpaw yowls, leaping from boulder to boulder. The scent of blood is strong and sharp in Moonpaw’s nostrils. Grief constricts her throat. She can’t shout, can’t help, can’t move. “Pebblespore!”

“Stop–” Moonpaw chokes out, “Stop, Fogpaw– they’re– they’re gone. We have to– have to get out–”

Fogpaw is instantly at her side, his comforting scent wreathing around her as he curls his tail over her shoulders. “You’re right.” Even in the face of unspeakable horror, her brother remains strong. His voice is broken, and Moonpaw can tell he’s shaking from where he’s pressed up against her, but he stays strong for her. She draws strength from his and pulls herself up onto her paws. “We have to get out. We can’t– stay here. Not anymore. Let’s go, Moonpaw.”

His shoulders brush the ceiling of the cave as he squeezes his way out through the entrance, guiding Moonpaw with the touch of his tail against her back as they clamber over the uneven stones. They leap down from one of the boulders wedged into the entrance of their camp and turn to look at the devastation. Moonpaw wants to throw her head to the sky and wail, but her voice has disappeared. All she can do is stare in disbelief at the landslide of rocks and mud that has ruined her home.

“It’s all gone,” her voice cracks. “Our home, Fogpaw, it’s all gone.”

“It’s not,” he assures her. He presses his nose into her fur, voice muffled. “It’s not. We’re still here. You and me, Moonpaw. NimbusClan is still here.”

Moonpaw chokes back a sob and curls into her brother. They sit there for a while, in front of the remnants of their lost clan, underneath the gentle glow of Silverpelt. She feels shocked and filled to the brim with grief. There’s no room for anything other than despair within her.

“Come on,” Fogpaw nudges her eventually, coaxing her to her paws. Her legs feel stiff and cold from where they’ve been folded under her. “We can’t sit here forever. Why don’t we head to the border, see if our neighboring Clan will help us?”

With no other plan of action, Moonpaw nods. He’s right. They can’t stay here forever. She spares one last, longing glance at the mound of rubble that was once her home, and pushes down on her exhaustion and grief in order to follow behind Fogpaw.

[Next]

[nimbusclan]

Nimbus /ˈnimbəs/ A luminous cloud surrounding a supernatural being.

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The story of NimbusClan follows a pair of siblings, Moonpaw and Fogpaw, who have to make it on their own after a landslide wipes out the rest of their clan.

I’m more of a writer than an artist, but I really wanted to get in on the Clangen fun everyone has been having, so I thought it’d be fun to try a twist on the classic comic format - I’ll be writing a story alongside drawing art! I’ll post major events in classic comic form, but if you’d like the ~Full NimbusClan Experience~, there will be story posts to read!

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Feel free to sends asks to me or the cats!

Asks are tagged #asks

Out of character will be tagged #ooc

Character references will be tagged #refs

All moon updates will be tagged with the relevant character(s) and the moon it takes place in, because I’m a sucker for organization. [Example: #moon0 #moonpaw #fogpaw]

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-Mass extinction events are turned on

-Cats are allowed to breed with cats that aren't their mates

-Same-sex couples will not be able to have kits, but adoption is increased

-Cats are allowed to have kits with an unknown second parent

-Romantic interactions with cousins is turned off

-Leader will automatically choose a new deputy and cats will choose their roles on their own

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For now, I'm going to attempt to add the story portions with a read-more under the comics, but if it makes the posts too bloated or if the formatting is weird, I may try something else.

Welcome to NimbusClan!