sensitive topics 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐔𝐏 ╱ 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝗕𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄

[REDHEART]

It was time to face his fears and put a stop to the madness alongside his remaining clanmates. The Windclanner's occupying the moors were not to be seen as kin but rogues in his mind. It was the only way Redpaw could rationalize putting up a fight that wasn't from panic alone. Silently, he crept over the hills and into the familiar landscape of home. The young tom's chest tightened with ache seeing his old den just out of reach. This was the place Venomstrike had raised and trained him with knowledge and love. Where Rattleheart soothed his sorrows and Rumblerain had listened and cared in his time of need. Now the tides had changed for the worst and his loyalties laid solely within the paws of Sunstride. He did not doubt his deputy but the altercation to come did not ease his thrumming heartbeat. At last the group had arrived and with a quick signal the ruddy apprentice sprang into action.

Running in behind Rattleheart he spreads out into the playing field. Green gaze cooled and hardened by days of mental preparation. They all had made their choices and would receive no mercy from him. Fanning out into the fray his eyes spot one of Sootstar's fanatics. Without wasting a beat he lunges forward pale claws outstretched and maw firmly set in a grimace. He hated battle. Hated knowing these were cats that had watched him grow into his own and now he would have to face them. The idea of one cat in particular made this heart seize with grief. No matter the case Redpaw would not direct his claws towards him. Never. That did not mean their friendship would be rekindled but he didn't have the heart to do so. For now the cat he faced would suffice. Swinging forward he aims to slap their cheek with gusto. Feathery tail swishing and power put into the movement. His other paws were planted firmly as all his weight flew forward in the attempt.

// Feel free to have your loyalist be the one he is attacking.
Please get some last minute licks in! The injury cannot be severe but enough to cause heavy bleeding/knock him down. (I.E. a large gash above his eye or being bitten on the ankle)​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

For a moment she sees it, her victory laid out before her. Claws pummel into Sunstride’s soft belly and with a satisfying rip it opens right up. She can tastes the blood as it covers her face, stains her white tufts of fur. That’s when Sootstar can’t see it anymore, his torn belly, his blood, her victory.

Teeth sink viciously into her throat, she squirms as she feels them push past her flesh and through her pulse. Blood spurts from her mouth. As she chokes she feels as though her eyes might just pop from their sockets. A strangled yowl bubbles out from her maw to push up another fountain of crimson.

The viper looks Sunstride dead-on, a look of pure evil burns in her eyes even as he drains the life from them.

Sootstar’s been killed like this before… but this time it hurt. She can feel her lungs burn as they fill with blood, she can feel the ringing in her head from all of Sunstride’s blows, for the first time in moons Sootstar feels defeat. Paws reach out to bat it away, if she denies it just awhile longer perhaps she could turn this around. She could save herself.

Sootstar’s always saved herself. She’s always dug herself out of every fox hole, always. This time would be no different, she’d find a way. She’d win. She always won. She will win. She will.

Tears swell in her eyes, her dangling paws sway with claws still unsheathed trying to muster the strength to lash out again. It was all gone.

I always win. I always win. Always.

Not this time.

For the first and last time over the course of her horrific reign she’s truly lost. Forever it’s over.

It’s finally over.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[MOCKING-GRIN]

They were cowards the lot of them! Battle broke out, but he was proud of his fellow clanmates. All of them had fought for what was just. Even his apprentice Juncopaw flung herself at a lousy rat that decided it meant something. However, despite how ferocious they were it wasn't enough. Gooseberry winded up dead. While he didn't care much for them, it was one loss. At least you died in honor unlike these scum. That's right. These cats who dared to fight against them, against the just wouldn't find salvation. In death I'll hunt you down. Regardless the tom weaves through battle snapping his fangs and clawing at anyone who stands his way.

He comes to a sudden stop, seeing his leader fight with the biggest traitor of them all. Even worse than Snakehiss who turned tail and betrayed them. She names the former shadowclanner Granitepelt deputy. The sudden promotion means nothing to him until he sees his leader losing against Sunstride. No! We can't lose! However, there is a pounding in his heart that only seems to boom louder when he sees Sootstar hanging by Sunstride's jaws as if she were prey. With a glance, it becomes obvious. They have lost. Such news is agonizing. However, he doesn't want to run. This is our home!

Such thoughts are cut off when his cheek stings. That's right... He snarls, forgetting that this battle is lost. If they were going to lose then he was going to make sure he left a mark! That way he will be remembered throughout Windclan history as one of the most nobles warrior that had graced the moors.

"You're going to pay for that you rat!" And such Mocking-grin would attempt to take one of Redpaw's eyes. Swinging an unsheathed paw with all the force he can muster. You'll never forget me even if I die here. I'll live on! All there remained was a deranged smile.

OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• attacking @redpaw !
  
• — mocking-grin / windclan moor runner / masculine pronouns / 24 moons
  — heterosexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — high white long haired chocolate smoke with heterochromia
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by velou

​

 

[WeepingWillow]

Claws dug into pelt, and a snarl ripped through her as the other rolled and she found herself leaping off. Only to face Rabbitclaw, realizing now who she has attacked. There was no mercy in her eyes, her grey to white paws bearing the mollies blood.

"Are you really a traitor?!"

She laughed, a hard laugh that escaped her throat. There was no comfort in the laughter that escaped her throat as her previous mentor stood before her. "Traitor? You're going against Sootstar! How am I the traitor?" Her words slid off her tongue after her laughter as if the molly made a funny joke.

Though it boiled in her a little, the fact her own mentor had went against their leaders words. It didn't make sense! Nothing... nothing made sense.

It was that anger, that confusion yet again that her voice turned into a growl, leaping forward to attempt to drag black claws through her face. This was stupid! How was she the traitor! Her paws thrashed wildly, unsure what she was even meeting, if not air itself.

Everyone looked at windclan with such disdain, did she not see it? If she was so blind... she should look like it!


// attacking @RABBITCLAW

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Bluefrost collides with Rattleheart, and they tumble to the ground. Her claws find purchase in Rattleheart’s chest fur, but each swipe loses vigor—each swipe loses accuracy, loses vitriol. When Rattleheart’s blazing green gaze meets hers, determination searing Bluefrost’s apathy away, she hears the other she-cat’s rattling hiss: “Please don’t make me kill you. Not for her.” The gray she-cat’s flanks heave. The battle surges on around them. Sootstar’s blood-soaked yowl pierces the night, naming Granitepelt, that ShadowClanner, her new deputy. So Snakehiss had defected, or had he died? Blood seeps into her eyes from a cut above her brow. She sees Gooseberry collapse; she sees Harbingermoon shy away, preparing to flee.

She sees Sunstride’s jaws lock into her mother’s throat.

“No,” she cries, as the light dies in Sootstar’s eyes, and she feels her limbs go slack. In moments, she’s swept off her paws, claws hooked into her thick pelt. They flip until Bluefrost is pinned, until Rattleheart is pinning her down. Teeth pierce the flesh at her throat.

Her mother is gone.

The battle is lost.

Bluefrost should be fighting back—Sootstar would, would expect her to die for her Clan, her cause. She stares into eyes that do not want her dead—despite the fangs pressing into her neck, despite the claws shredding her pelt.

She goes limp as the fight leaves her body. “You should kill me,” she whispers. “Send me to—to wherever my mother is going…”

It won’t be StarClan—she knows that.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: engaging @RATTLEHEART ; yielding :]
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 13 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

Sootstar’s voice cleaves through the yowls, the wails of pain and fury, and Granitepelt freezes in place as he hears his name. “Granitepelt! WindClan’s next deputy is you!” He turns, wild-eyed, to see her disappear under Sunstride’s massive spotted figure. He exhales, drawing away from his opponent for just a moment. Heat floods through his veins, from the tips of his ears to the points of his reddened claws. “Deputy,” he murmurs. Deputy of what? He surveys his kingdom, the cats fleeing, their pelts bearing bald spots and fresh wounds, the bodies slumping to the ground.

She has crowned him, in her blood-soaked wisdom, but he knows as well as she does that WindClan does not belong to her anymore. He holds his breath as Sunstride’s teeth find her throat—as the light dies from anguished green eyes, as her body goes limp in the rebel’s jaws.

Granitepelt backs away from Foxglare, his flanks heaving. His mind jolts. “WindClan—the true WindClan, under Sootstar!” He lifts his voice to the star-scattered sky. It’s hoarse, it threatens to crack under new pressure, but he does not relent. “Retreat! Follow me!”

He turns, finding a gap in the writhing bodies. Granitepelt flees from his opponent, from the rebellion’s clash with Sootstar’s loyal few, and hopes those left alive will have sense enough to follow him.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: LOYALISTS, we are retreating! those who are going to duskclan should flee! i will make an 'arrival' post in the loner lands board to regroup. :]
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 20 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[✧ Honeybadger.]

NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND I
WE SHARE THE SAME SUNSHINE FROM THE SAME SKY ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

honeybadger & 13 moons & male & he/him & windclan moor runner ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Honeybadger watches as galeforce ceases to move - grey eyes ablaze with pride ashe spits out the blood that coats his tongue. He'd done it - killed one of the intruders for their queen. He's always lauded his press in battle - had even offered tips to his clanmates in the past. For a moment, fond memories of spars spark across his mind, until he's reminded by the bitter fact that the cats in question had turned traitor. He looks around for a moment - as though he will be able to pick one of them out from the crowd.

Instead, he looks up just in time to see a tortoiseshell figure barrel into him. Blood drips steadily down his pelt and splashes across the ground, new wounds making their presence known even across the old. For a moment, he's annoyed - what is it with cats and aiming for his shoulders? - before it turns into rage. Teeth snap as he lunges forwards, hoping to snatch either leg or tail with his jaws as scorchpaw darts by. He is not lithe - not as fast as his clanmates. Certainly not as nimble as the younger moor runner.

Instead, he spins, eyes tracking her movements - hoping to lure her back within his reach. He's taken worse hits - he hardly fears hers.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━ W E ━ W E N ' T ━ B L I N D ━ G O I N G ━ E Y E ━ F O R ━ A N ━ E Y E ━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
// outcome perms from haggis; continuation of this thread; now attacking @SCORCHPAW please do not intervene

 

[RATTLEHEART]

There's chaos all around them. Screeching and yowling and vicious hisses being exchanged in the heat of battle. Rattleheart could hear it all - could hear the frantic, deranged scream of Sootstar declaring Granitepelt her new deputy in the distance - yet her attention remained focused on the tunneler beneath her. In spite of her own desperation, she expected Bluefrost to fight back. To maul her until the last moment, to go down bloodied and disgraced alongside the mad queen that was her mother. Yet she goes limp in Rattleheart's jaws, like a piece of prey with no fight left in it. The rational part of her brain knows that this could be a trap. A scheme to get some last hits in, a feign meant to get her to lower her guard so that she could die alongside Sootstar, only she wouldn't come back. Yet, that really didn't seem to be the case.

Not with the exhausted, broken words that left Bluefrost's muzzle, enough to make Rattleheart's ears flick back at just how genuine they seemed. Maybe another warrior would have granted her request, but not here. Not now.

Instead her jaws released, blood dripping down from her muzzle as she took a step back. Her shoulder stung and her chest ached, but it was nothing compared to what she had endured in the last few months. "I won't kill you, Bluefrost. Not when I know you don't deserve to end up in the same place as her." Wherever Sootstar would end up eventually, though Rattleheart was sure it wouldn't be anywhere alongside the starry-pelted cats above. "Besides, if I killed you... you'd never even have the chance to atone for everything that has happened." And she desperately wanted to cling to her belief in second chances, even if Sootstar had made her realize that some cats simply couldn't be saved. Bluefrost wasn't among their ranks as far as she was concerned, and she could only hope that Sunstride would agree with time.

Her gaze was only finally torn away from her opponent by Granitepelt's cry, grimacing as he spit out venom about a true Windclan. He was nothing but a fool damned by the stars in Rattleheart's eyes, with the true Windclan having just retaken their camp from he and his cursed lot. Either way, she was just glad to see them gone, not straying far from Bluefrost's side yet still moving far enough to slash and snap at the heels of nearby loyalists that had already begun to flee. They knew that they were defeated - that they had finally lost, and that was enough for her for now.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[NIGHTMAREFACE]

// fighting @FEATHERPAW
Powerplay was approved!

Her teeth puncture sensitive skin, and metallic warmth coats her tongue to signify her victory. Her bristling pelt ripples with glee - she’ll tear this runt to shreds! But he yanks away from her quickly, his paws nearly as quick as her as she lunges for Nightmareface’s muzzle next and latches on. A yowl of pain and rage splits from her jaws as she tries her best to rip herself away from the apprentice, a gaping wound being left in his wake.

Blood drips from her jowl as she refocuses, head lowered and shoulders hunched, narrowed eyes glaring at Featherpaw. A menacing growl rumbles in her throat and seeps from bared fangs. “I’ll kill you. I won’t fail Sootstar again!” Her muscles bunch and she flies towards him, bringing the smaller feline to the ground and pinning her belly-down. Her paws press between his shoulder blades and she digs her claws in, wanting to cause him as much pain as she had caused her, her wound stinging as wind buffets it. Her wild eyes rage as a forepaw is lifted high, a toe pointed skyward in preparation before she brings it down hard at Featherpaw’s should and drags it down her spine, blood spilling out and coating her white paw in crimson paint.

And then she hears Granitepelt’s yowl, her ears perking and eyes shooting towards him. Her muzzle lifts, then, as she catches sight of her leader dangling limply, the life leaving her swinging paws and darkening eyes. Jaws ajar in shock, she loses her focus, too bewildered to think about the battle she is in.​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Galeforce lies dead astride the new theatre of battle. Scorchpaw forces herself not to see him; forces herself not to see Little Wolf in him, strewn across the snow, forces herself not to see any other warrior they've lost in all nine moons of her living. Is Rumblerain here? Do they look like this? The thought makes her sick; her littermate in the snow, seeping cherry syrup. No, she resolves. Even if they were foolish, they had to be brave — despite hardly following their training, their growth, she has to believe it, lest she distract herself in this critical moment.

Her claws rip and break the flesh of her opponent. Honeybadger snarls as she darts past; his teeth manage to hook into her hind leg and abruptly halts her movement. Scorchpaw trips and her chin meets the earth and pain shoots down her tongue as she realizes she's bitten it in her fall. Blood, hot and tangy, fills her mouth and dribbles down the corner of her lip — but she can't take a minute to feel this pain. Scorchpaw violently kicks her hind leg, hoping to disrupt his grip and injure his teeth, and scrambles to her paws to dart out of reach. Her scarlet-golden eyes scathe Honeybadger with the force of the sun. She looks at him with hate, pure and unadulterated; and it is funny, really, that she should look at him this way, because she remembers times where they'd shared tongues; remembers his warrior ceremony; remembers his curiosity for her journey. It's too bad that he's chosen this, then — that he's chosen to go against StarClan, against Sunstride, that Sootstar has swindled him into believing she is deserving of such ferocious faith.

But it is not up to Scorchpaw to change his mind. Not when they would be negotiating with their claws instead of their words, anyway.

The injury to her leg burns distantly, as if the heat came through warm cotton as opposed to directly from the steaming, opened flesh. He's waiting for her to attack again — it's different from the fights she's been in before, the ones against hawks or eagles, or standing paralyzed in the sight of a badger that some SkyClanner must rescue her from. There is no SkyClanner now, nor does she want there to be one; Scorchpaw can fight her own battles now. Her conviction burns in the pit of her chest, her devotion to Sunstride — to Scorchstreak, to Luckypaw, to Bluepool, to Rattleheart, to Mouseflight and Periwinklebreeze and all of the warriors she knows and loves. She would drive out these loyalists for them.

A great thunder cracks from the girl as she launches forward again, lips frothed with the blood of her bitten tongue, her muzzle crinkled in a scowl nearly as ferocious as her mentor's. It is Sunstride that she remembers when she aims to sink her jaws into the soft flesh of Honeybadger's throat. They'd been training, sparring, out by the barn. He'd wanted to prepare her well for this battle. When he'd told her about lethal blows, she'd never truly imagined herself using them — but her body pulses hot with rage, now, some infernal engine pushing her without thinking. She holds Honeybadger there, wild eyes alight with the same angry flame that burns across her pelt, until his movements grow weak. Then, she drops him on the ground like crowfood.

/ attacking @Honeybadger.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 ✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌

• 

• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw
  — she/they ; apprentice of windclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — signature by dreamydoggo, template art by sixbane
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

Featherpaw made dizzying purchase, but at what cost? Nightmare face was spurned, enraged- slobber stringing from her maw like viscera. I'll kill you, said the calico, and Featherpaw- against his better judgement, he felt a twist of fear. Rightful fear, but loathsome all the same- for Nightmareface was bigger than him, undoubtedly and completely. Their stalemate was broken as Nightmareface lunged forward, sending Featherpaw toppling to the ground, pinned on her belly rather than her back. He'd- he'd not planned for this. There were many counters when your belly was exposed, sensitive and soft, he'd revised them all, but on his- on his-

The world was awash with pain, all of a sudden- bright, white agony. Magma seeping down her back, hot and thorny, and Featherpaw let loose a yowl- a scream of horror. She couldn't see- she couldn't see a single thing, but knew it was bad, for her sensed were drowned in ichor and her ears rang with the splitting sensation.

Puling bloomed in the air, and Featherpaw's yowling could be mistaken for a grief song for Sootstar, hoarse, shredded to pieces. He was sick with pain, his icy sharpness thawed. But he heard the word vomit from Granitepelt's maw. Retreat. Granitepelt, a loyalist- and there was one on her back, and- and she wasn't tearing anymore-

"G-guh..." she caught on the word, but used the fire within her- roaring flame, her blood howling in her ears- to haul herself into a spin. "Off me!" He shrieked at an unbecoming, childish pitch as he barrelled a clawed paw as hard as he could into Nightmareface's side, anywhere he could make contact, trying to shove her away. Keep going, keep going. He had to get rid of her before he let himself melt again. "You've lost!"

Determination was leafbare sun in her eyes, for she would not falter now, not even as scarlet seeped into her stripes and wrote a tale of the battle across her entire body.​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[✧ Honeybadger.]

NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND I
WE SHARE THE SAME SUNSHINE FROM THE SAME SKY ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

honeybadger & 13 moons & male & he/him & windclan moor runner ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

His blow hits - and he watches in satisfaction as she falls, writhing in ange. Leg wrenches free from his jaws with a clack of his teeth - the sharp pain esily bared. This - this is his element. Scorchpaw is no match for him. Legs rise and he goes in for another blow as she charges - teeth flashing crimson as he snaps. But his paws never land upon her shoulders, never drag her down to deal that final blow.

Grey eyes widen as heat rushes through his neck - already it begins to gurgle and froth past parted lips, coating his tongue and his chest as it splatters. He - he'd lost. He'd fought so hard for his clan, for sootstar - he'd killed even. And yet... he'd lost. It's a strange feeling, his death - eyes rolling wildly as he stumbles, as they collapse. Paws churn uselessly for a heartbeat, then two. Even if he could pry her ff now, he know it'd be no use - he's already dead, his body just doesn't know it.

'Where's beepaw?' he thinks absently, gaze searching frantically. Surely, his sister isn't here to see him like this. Surely - surely she's safe, wherever she is. He cannot find her in the crowd, and somehow it comes as a relief, as at last eyes dim and chest stills.

'How sad,' he thinks absently, 'to go out like this,'

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━ W E ━ W E N ' T ━ B L I N D ━ G O I N G ━ E Y E ━ F O R ━ A N ━ E Y E ━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 

[REDHEART]

A snarl held firm as he watched his paw connect and swing back Mocking-grin's face. There is no satisfaction from the impact no joy in the crimson droplets that stain his paws. Redpaw hates every waking moment even at the spittle sent his way while the older tom snarls insults. Redpaw stays quiet and intended to push against the other but his movement Is cut short as a river of blood begins to pour down their face. Shock sets in and for a moment the paw' fears he has lost his eye but with a few rapid blinks the spike of terror is alleviated. Then the pain comes in like a thunderbolt sharp and stinging through the mess he feels a burn up his eyelid. Four scores of claws had slashed across his lid to his ear leaving a messy trail that blinded him. Reeling back he hisses from the agony but now proper rage fuels him forward.

Jetting forward he snaps wildly with his fangs aiming to gain some kind of purchase. News of the moor queens death does not stop him but the call for retreat causes him to halt and growl. "You've lost! Leave!" Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him upright against the queasiness in his stomach. Still his voice held a powerful gusto as pearly fangs dripped with red. Ruddy pelt fluffed and back arched as he stood the other down face and chest marred with his own gore. Redpaw didn't fear this cat nor would he ever again. Sootstar had tormented his nightmares long enough and if these were the sorry souls his so-called friend aligned with. Then he no longer held sympathy for these mindless rogues.

Whether or not the other stuck around was of no consequence to the paw' before he realized it his head was pillowed by the cold earth. Having fainted and crumbled to the ground. The world seemed suddenly smaller and his breaths grew ragged against the dirt.

// @rivepaw ! Was fighting @MOCKING-GRIN but fainted and hit the ground.​

 

[PINKSHINE]

Pinkpaw ducks past loyalist claws flying past her. There's too much to pay attention too— too many conversations to listen into and shrieks and screaming and more shrieks[/i]. Pinkpaw had managed little more than a couple hurried swipes at one of Sootstar's cats before ducking away, mind buzzing with the potential of what she should do next. She sees Rattleheart and Bluefrost. Somewhere behind her, she thinks Downypaw has gotten into a fight... Why hadn't they followed her? She sees Nightmareface and Featherpaw... Featherpaw? She screams at herself to remember something, but she can't remember what... She sees Sunstride and Sootstar. Sootstar yelling. Sootstar... dead. Granitepelt? Who's Granitepelt? Did they win? Granitepelt... Sootstar... Featherpaw!

Featherpaw screamed. Why did she scream? She wanted Pinkpaw to remember too! Remember— she remembered! Her head whips toward her, and she's in wide - eyed shock much like the molly that stood slobbering on top of him. Nightmareface. She's always hated her! She's always thought she was gross, gross, gross... Pinkpaw's face twists into anger, and she was hurtling toward them, intent on aiding Featherpaw in hisescape. She leaps, aiming to bowl Nightmareface over or at the very least away from her friend. They were supposed to fight together, she remembered. " Get away from him! " she growls

staring at the mirror gotta smile, smile 🌸🌷🦄🦩 don't be late, we got plans!

• ooc: trying to help @FEATHERPAW fight off @NIGHTMAREFACE!!

• NOTE: SHE IS A FEVER COAT BABY!!
  

  

• ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
  —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  —— CURRENTLY 6 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH
  
  A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with sunburst eyes ringed blue around her pupils (central heterochromia). While you can clearly see her flame markings on her face, the rest of her body is currently covered by a grey fever - coating. Though the whites of her are still very much visible. Pinkpaw bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
  

  HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pinkpaw is a very irrational and childish character!​

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[HARBINGERMOON]

☾ Just as quickly as his little 'idea' began it ended Slatetooth darted forward. Giving him the slightest satisfaction of scratches but nothing more as he tumbles forward. Agony writhes up his stomach once he lands face first and it pushes adrenaline through him with the might of a seasoned warrior. Lurching forward he swipes twice more snarling with each attempt but missing miserably. Rage surges and he continues the assault ignoring the fellow tuxedo's reasoning driven purely by the blood thrumming violently in his ears. When his claws connect with the his face a sneer colors Harbingermoon's masked maw gleefully. However, his stamina felt nearly sapped and his body heaved with ragged breaths. A stinging slap wipes the grin off and the words seems to infiltrate some part of his damaged psyche. His mouth falls into a stunned 'o' and their orange gaze takes in the surrounding battlefield. Left and right his comrades were being pummeled and Sootstar herself tangled in a match to the death. It was clear who had the upper paw and even in his deluded state Harbingermoon wasn't foolish enough not to realize when defeat was right at their throats.

They don't have my back. Quickly, the tides had changed against the smaller of the two and a tremble of exhaustion rattles the Lead Warrior to his core. My kits? Each spat sentence tangles around him and Harbingermoon is captured by the intense green expression locking them in place. Physically he starts to shrink further down while Slatetooth towers above them. Eliciting a warning harrowing enough to strike fear right at their center. 'they may kill you where you stand, and your kits too..' His mouth opens and closes flapping in an attempt to speak but one threatening step forward was enough for him to zip it. It wasn't hard for him to believe the warning seeing as some had already flopped to the ground stone cold. Swallowing hard, reality crashed over him like a cat drowning in the deep end of the river. 'will they know ought but a lonely void?' nothing petrified him more than being alone. No matter how much the tom vehemently fought against it, all of his irrationalities lead to that same road, and knowing the children growing within him may suffer the same fate twisted him in a way unimaginable. Harbingermoon had tried so hard to push the truth away to never put faces to his rounded belly or a plan to even care for them upon arrival.

His only true friend had been denial it kept him grounded and safe but what about now. With his so-called 'clanmates' running in every which way and the risk of starclan damming his offspring there was no greater fear than death itself. Harbingermoon held no power here and in their current condition it was either death or possible torture. Slatetooth's lunge causes a whine to slip between clenched teeth as his body begins to shake. The whisper is enough to cause their pelt to raise like static. Without missing a beat he pitiably scrambles against the earth like prey caught between claws. Kicking up dirt in his frantic dash while his heart spikes with another surge of adrenaline. My kits! With the attacker right at his heels Harbingermoon doesn't stop, hardly breaths, and runs for his very life with their tattered tail streaming behind. In his current condition it was unbearable to thunder away at such a pace but he couldn't risk giving in not when terror itself drove him over the moors and into the distance. ☽

☾ OOC ☽
Out!

Spoiler: scene

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[rivewhisper]

—————————————————————⊰⋅ ☽ ⋅⊱—————————————————————​

She had been given specific orders to stay behind. Her father had given her a stern look that, if she was any younger or hadn't nearly touched death, would've convinced her to tuck tail and hide beneath a pile of hay. Unfortunately for Sunstride, she was far closer to touching the sun then falling, and Rivepaw was just about over being the protected one.

Her paws drummed against the grasses, catching up with the battle minutes late. She had stayed at first, of course. But the longer it took, the more her adrenaline burned her nerves. The fresh scars on her stomach hinted with pain everytime she fully stretched her body out, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. No, it wasn't going to stop her- nothing was going to stop her anymore, Rivepaw had determined. Not some stupid dead traitor who had given her scars, not her father would was determined to see her protected, instead of protective.

Not her siblings, who were sure to get upset for Rivepaw throwing herself into trouble again. Her lips pulled back at the thought. As much as she loved her family dearly, Rivepaw was just about over all of that! A snarl ripped through her as she slid into the entrance of camp, eyes searching the writhing mass of battle. Blood strewn, the air just about hazy with it, the scent thick. Ears flattened, and she swallowed down something terribly interrupting that had started in her memory.

Vision pinned to her father, mouth dripping with Sootstar's blood, and a surge of victory started. Featherpaw and Pinkpaw were fighting someone else, Bearpaw with her ðir. Her shoulders raised, sagged, one more person, where are you?. Her thoughts cried out as she locked her vision with Redpaw, who swayed, and toppled to the dirtied earth. Ice blue eyes, that of a predator's strength, stared towards @MOCKING-GRIN. Her breaths heaved, shoulders rising, falling, and muscles bunched.

"Get.. away.. FROM HIM!" She shouted, leaping into the fray that would soon begin to thin, if anyone listened to Granitepelt. Her paws drummed against the earth, claws unsheathing. Rivepaw would leap at the Mocking-grin, aiming to rake talon-like claws over the shoulders of the warrior. Whether or not she was successful, paws scrabbled against earth to turn, placing her body deliberately between Mocking-grin and @redpaw. Fur as thick as her father's, left eye slanted slightly more closed then her right.

Proving marks covered her forehead and stomach from where she had met death and spat in it's face. "Leave. Retribution will come for you otherwise." She snarled. Whether it was her own tooth and claw, whether it was Sunstride's, or Wolfsong's, or any of the other true Windclanners, it didn't matter. Her threat was true.

// attacking mocking-grin and protecting redpaw!

"text"
thoughts​

 

[DUSTWHISKER]

Like his opponent, Dustwhisker has no intentions of falling. Not to a traitor, not to a face he’s never seen upon the moors before. But perhaps, perhaps he’s made a miscalculation — a fool’s move. The tom is far bigger than the tunneler, far stronger for an outsider than he’d assumed.

Large paws knock him down before he can rise, a gasp of air taken at the sudden force, narrowed eyes growing wide in fear. Is he to die here? To die a death to traitorous claws, a cheat in the system that is the moor’s battle? Is he to die to a cat that has never spent a day in the open plains, never trained to fight like a WindClanner?

Not if he could do anything about it. Dusty forelegs move to kick at the hulking tom again, only for one to connect with teeth. Warm, searing pain blooms over his paw, a shout of frustration escaping his maw. “ Get off. Get off! “ An uninjured paw lifts, sharp claws swiping at his opponent’s face in aim for his eyes in an attempt to make some space to escape.

When he finds an opening, Dustwhisker twists, darting out from Sunnyday’s grasp. He makes a point to turn back, a paw lifting again to strike, but an attempt is never made. A retreat is called — not by Sootstar, not by his leader, the true leader — but by Granitepelt instead, made deputy in the heat of battle. They have lost.

Pale eyes find his opponent’s face, a hiss erupting from him. “ I’ll get you, “ he sneers out a promise between sharp breaths before darting away, turning to follow gray and white fur away from the moors.​

✦ ABOUT

• // disengaging from @Sunnyday and retreating!
• 

  DUSTKIT ‣ DUSTPAW ‣ DUSTWHISKER
  ── Loyalist Tunneler of WindClan
  
  ── Breezecurl x Stormtalon
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A black tabby/black chimera with dull yellow eyes.
  ── Mentored by Breezecurl
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

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