pafp 𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝗕𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 ╱ 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑

[SUNNVAR]

The true problem of leadership, he believes, stems from the need to act as a leader at all times. Even in the safety of his den, he is confined. Alone on the territory, still entangled. Bound up by the threads of necessitated poise. Wolfsong is the reprieve that he has always been, but their healer is not a cat that he can risk any longer. His mate, his very heart, who held the lives of each clanmate between his paws, could not go around with sore muscles and weeping scratches, or a ringing head. Sunstar could not yell at him like he once had. Nor could they spar. He spilled his heart to him whenever he could, and yet– at times, there is such a flame beneath his skin that each splash of water only sent it curling higher towards the sky.

He needed to behave himself in a manner that was not at all leaderly.

So here he was.

"Firefang," he demands her attention with a quick snap of his words. She has been the source of much irritation as of late. A good warrior, poisoned by a cat whose thorns she could not, or would not, pull from her pelt. One who would now train another apprentice in these poison-filled ways thanks to his own decision. A cat who stood starkly opposed to him on much of every moment he has seen her. Agitated and brimming with energy, he paces around the broad-shouldered molly. "Spar with me. Allow our apprentices to watch how true warriors fight."

⋆°•☁︎ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃  ╱╱ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝗕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 〚 02.11.2024 〛 𖤓

• OOC. please wait for @Firefang !! and apprentice tag: @rivepaw
• 

  SUNSTAR. LEADER OF WINDCLAN.   ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, MOUNTAIN CATS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING RIVEPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ A LARGE, FRESHLY SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS BLUE EYES

• "speech"

​

 

[Firefang]

Firefang walked a fine line she was consistently tripping over nowadays. It’s harder to hold her tongue no matter how hard she bites down, she knows the repercussions for her continued allegiance to a dead woman and yet she still spits her defenses like it’d earn her anything more then distrust and discontent. She fights for the image of a pariah of their people who never existed in the way she imagined her, she longs for the past grasps feelings of warmth and pride she held in childhood. All she feels now is
Simmering rage and fear, she was struggling every step she made forward she took two back.

The fur on her neck prickles feeling the gaze of Sunstar on her before his mouth opens, spilling her name out in a demand. For once she hears similarity in the voice of the leader, past memories of orders she wouldn’t dare refuse. For her a leader is as feared as they are respected, Sunstar doesn’t carry the same ferocity as his predecessor only in flashes does she see it. She stares at him uneasily, a flash of claws shines in her memories soaked in the blood of a rabid tyrant, he was chosen as deputy for a reason she knows he’s formidable but only recently does she see him representing his rank with strength and sheer power then with kindness and gentleness.

She can’t figure him out. There’s a reason he’s seeking her out of all cats to spar with and she worries it’s an execution is disguise. She wasn’t a rabid beast to be put down. She meets his challenge regardless of her wariness, showing fear wasn’t an option. Her tail swings behind her and she watches him as he circles, she feels the lesson of their apprentices being able to learn is merely an excuse. There was much more to this too many emotions that had been broiling out in the open for moons now.

"Claws out or in?" she asks she’d always favor the old ways, no holding back no nothing. She stretches out her body, shoulders rolling and joints cracking. It’s been a while since she’s fought, since the battle really. "Your call. Come at me when you’re ready I’m already prepared" there’s a rigidness to her tone, she’s really not but she’ll face any challenge that faces her no matter what. It’s how she is

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  apprentice tag!: @HEATHERPAW
  

• "speech"

• 

  Firefang ✩ She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 22 moons
  ⭃ Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

​

 

[rivewhisper]

"TAKE ME TO YOUR ORCHARD, SO SWEET"​

Her father was to spar with the very cat who thought of her still a kit- which, Rivepaw was totally opposed with. She had stared down death's talon and returned from the haunted doors, with scars to tell the story, spread across her face and up her stomach. Ears perked as she heard her father call the spar, an equally tested Firefang responded with quick words. Sharp owl eyes stared at the situation as she slowly approached, tail swaying low behind her.

Heatherpaw, on the other hand, was a character that Rivepaw hadn't interacted with much at all. Between the civil war that she had survived through, and the rogues, and the yellowcough? Rivepaw hadn't had an easy beginning, and she was slowly starting to show that tenacity and strength. She held herself a hint more noble, as to not let Sunstar's image sink lower then it had been- her fault, really, bleeding all over camp and nearly dying in the barn wasn't a good look for any of her family- as the spar began to wound up.

She settled, tail tucked over her paws as a watchful gaze settled upon them.
​

"yuh"​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — Firefang was a warrior that Rattleheart had complicated feelings on, to say the least. On one paw, he couldn't begrudge her her dedication to Sootstar, even after all that had transpired. Many fine cats had been yanked in by her sway, including his own nibling. It seemed like some days that it was only by the grace of Starclan that Scorchstreak had ended up getting out too, and he could understand just how hard it was. Just as it had felt like a nearly impossible barrier for him to put a paw forward and raise his voice against her once upon a time. However, there were also the considerations on the other paw. The many crimes of Sootstar that had been exposed, not to mention all of the violence and chaos that she had brought down onto her own clan through her actions. She would've thrown Firefang to the wolves without a second thought if it benefitted her, so why did the other defend her even now?

Even in spite of all that, he had been trying his best to give her some grace. An adjustment period after so much time spent under Sootstar's rule, an influence that would never be easy for any of them to truly shake off. That much had been clear when he had first been promoted alongside Perinwinklebreeze, with his body tensed as he expected the ritualistic scarring their now dead leader had been so fond of. As eager as he - and many others - were to forget about her entirely, it wasn't so simple. He was sure that was why Sunstar had been so lenient with her as well, desperately clinging to the idea that those few cats left over who hadn't left with Granitepelt could still be rehabilitated. Rattleheart wanted to believe the same, though his faith was admittedly waning with each day that passed. He had begun to wonder if Sunstar himself was feeling similarly - though now the answer seemed fairly obvious.

There was a mixture of trust and trepidation on his face as he approached, settling near the similarly watchful forms of Rivepaw and Heatherpaw. Though he was far from anyone's apprentice, he still found it necessary to watch. Not because he didn't trust Sunstar - he could never imagine the rosette-covered tom enacting the same kind of justice that Sootstar had believed in. He didn't trust Firefang to play by the same rules, however. Even if Sunstar would just get back up if she killed him, that didn't settle his nerves anymore as he lingered nearby, claws digging lightly into the dirt.

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

• 

• 
  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 50 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ❥ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
  ❥ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
  ❥ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
  ❥ currently mentoring downypaw
  ❥ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ all opinions are ic

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── If Sunstar asked several weeks ago, Wolfsong would not have hesitated— but the dream which stalks his waking moments and instills such apprehension within Wolfsong's heart would have him turn down such a request. It would wound him to do so. He bleeds now with the vivid taste of his mate's life on his tongue, so while some part of him envies Firefang for a role he once filled, most of Wolfsong is simply resigned. Of course, he does not have a particularly positive history with Firefang, and he would at least enjoy watching his mate battle her.

He sits beside his daughter, his thick tail pressing against her, still keenly aware of how close Hummingbirdheart came to taking Rivepaw from him. Under Sunstar's tutelage, he hopes future battles will not see her so wounded again— a cowardly thought, perhaps. Wolfsong should prefer his children to fall so honorably.

"Your apprentices will learn much today," he says through the obstruction in his throat.
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 42 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[Bluepool]

Bluepool was not quite certain how she felt about Firefang. On one paw, she was a fierce warrior, oen that WindClan would be lucky to hae among their ranks. But she did not miss the quips here and there that spilled from the mollies mouth, the way in which she was seemingly finding it difficult to integrate into WindClan's new ways. She is like a scab, she thinks. Either she needs to heal and conform to their new image or she needed to be picked off. She could not be allowed to fester, to invite in infection and rot. Like Rattleheart, she wants to believe that the wounds left behind by her littermate would heal, given time, wants not to think so negatively of her own blood but those left over who had once supported Sootstar were so stubborn, so set in their ways. She thinks, of course, of her nephew who bears her name, of her niece who was had spent more time with her mother than any of her kits. Could they be changed? Persuaded to no longer hold allegience to a ghost? Despite everything, she finds herself hoping so.

"Watch closely, Featherpaw" she murmurs softly to her crimson-furred apprentice as she comes to stand next to her fellow lead warrior, golden eyes fixated on the fight that would unfold before them. "My bets on Sunstar" she says to Rattleheart, gaze shining with anticipation. Both cats were fierce fighters but she had seen their leader in battle. He was never to be underestimated is what she had learned.

( ➸ ) test my worth in blood

• 
  
  
• 
  BLUEPOOL WINDCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO SOOTSTAR & MINTSHADE
  

  A small framed moor runner with a blue toned pelt and black stripes. Her tail is cropped and her eyes are golden in color. On her chest, she sports a large 'X' shaped scar.

  ✦ Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + isn’t above using dirty tricks in order to win
  

​

 

[dimmingsun]

Dimmingsun hardly understands Sunstar's patience regarding an ex-loyalist such as Firefang, with all her ferocity and anger, but he is not one to question his leader's judgments. He thinks it might be hope for change — after all, and to give her some credit, she had changed her mind before it was truly too late —, but at what point does it run out?

He watches her as if his eyes are glued to her pelt, muscles shifting underneath with her stretch. She never fails to make his blood boil, his hackles rise- never would Dimmingsun stoop so low as to attack a Clanmate outright, so he always pushes down his dismay about her behavior, but he cannot possibly ignore the fact that Sootstar still seems to have some sort of effect on her. Like a ghost that's too stubborn and vengeful to stop the hauntings.

At the very least, this should be interesting.

Mentors make sure to call their apprentices forth, and Dimmingsun doesn't let Celandinepaw slip by unnoticed either. "You're bound to learn something new here."

---​

INTO THE NIGHT ✦ I DRINK AND DRIVE

• 
• DIMMINGSUN ✦ WINDCLAN WARRIOR
  ────── HE/HIM ✦ PENNED BY KARMEN ✦ 04/15
• @CELANDINEPAW

​

​

 

[slateheart]

When it came to his first training experience, Slateheart's biggest struggle was where to start. Especially with Snowglare's age, the younger tom often worried about trying too hard, or teaching him something he already knows. He would give anything not to be a bore or broken record.

Sunstar's invitation for a spar was the perfect opportunity for mentors and apprentices alike; Slateheart felt that he was no exception. Snowglare may know how to defend himself, as most wild cats possess such an instinct, but what he may not know yet are the tactics that WindClan succeeds in. Their nimbleness, their terrain; all vital advantages. So, joining shortly after Dimmingsun, Slateheart beckons the white-furred warrior over with a flick of his tail. "I have no doubt you've got some moves in you, but I want you to see this."

His gaze turns towards Sunstar and Firefang. The former is inviting, the latter rigid; she questions whether or not to sheathe their claws, and Slateheart wonders, too, if this tradition was about to change. Though his own mentor - his father - was particularly rough on him, he found no quarrel with the way WindClan apprentices trained with claws out. It was a glimpse into the reality of war, and a test of their restraint.
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• 

  slate slatepaw slatetooth SLATEHEART
  ━━ MOOR-RUNNER WARRIOR of WINDCLAN
  ━━ 23 MOONS,, ages every 6th
  ━━ LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE xx SILVERFOOT
  ━━ SIBLING to GRAVELSNAP and ASHPAW
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to none | MENTORED by LYNXTOOTH​
• 
  
  
• speech is #bbbb88
  apprentice ping - @SNOWGLARE
  ​

 

[SNOWGLARE]

જ➶ Fighting is a concept most understand and know about. One that he doesn't know thoroughly but enough to get him by. It was the only reason he felt confident enough to help the banished Windclanners on the moorlands. Had earned him new scars and pains but he supposes it was a sacrifice that was necessary. Still he follows Slateheart dutifully and makes his way over to the leader and Firefang about to have a spar. "Agreed. There is always something to learn." He smiles lightly before pink blemished eyes focus back on the pairing. Snow knows that he doesn't know everything about Windclan and he wouldn't be so dull as to gloat that he does. They know these moors better than he does. The tunnels and the open spaces.

He is here to become one of them so any knowledge is key. Wrapping his scruffy tail around his scarred pelt he focuses in on the pair. Taking note of the claws in or out. Perplexing that it would be okay to harm during a friendly bout. But perhaps there is reason to this.​

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

Is this seriously how clan cats settle fights? The thought settled in Celandinepaw's restless mind as she stood besides Dimmingsun, much like a leaf sat upon the skin of tumultuous waters, rocking and rasping back and forth until it would be torn to shreds amongst the other musings, too. At the barn, there was little physical altercation, as her parents had often taught her to mediate conflicts with her words, not her fangs. In fact, the warriors of Windclan seemed to bring war and woe to the barn to her, for they had accompanied her first breaths of blood-scent and her first taste of welting wound. She would have thought the wildcats to be as civil as they purported themselves to be, but she had been proven right and wrong in many ways. Firefang faced her leader with a surprising daunt to her inflection, as though she almost challenged the king of the moors, though would she truly wrest the crown from Sunstar's bloodied head? Celandinepaw reasoned that, surely, there was no way that Sunstar would lose to his subordinate. But there existed a palpable ire like a drop of toxin upon the tongue, too heavy to swallow and too mercurial to bear in the gut, always present and never digested. The golden-furred molly waited with anticipation prickling the back of her neck and spine, almost as sharp as the thistles that lined the edges of the moorland waysides, though not nearly as sharp and as fractious. Dimmingsun said that she would learn something new, and the young molly did not disagree. If she were slated to do this to the future, there would be much preparation necessary on all of her fronts.​