MEMPHIS NIGHTS -- thunderpath

❀​ OH HOME, LET ME COME HOME ❀​

periwinklebreeze & 14 moons & demi-boy & he/they & windclan moor runner

Already, peri feels utterly overwhelmed - wide blue eyes taking everything in with a blank stare. He's still towards the back of the group when he finally makes his choice - brushing past the last of those remaining on the fourtrees side, and taking a deep breath. His figure looks frail - dark circles beneath his eyes plain as day, a thin body despite his average size, and the look of a cat who has, well, just about given up. But only just bout - though he regrets his offer to come, he will work hard anyways - he has to, because he promised.

He waits with bated breath, ears pricked and paws focused in case he feels any warning thunder rumble on through, before he presses forwards - alone. Pawsteps are light as soft paws carry him forwards at a speed that would make any windclanner proud - his thoughts not far off from mouseflight's as he pictures this being a chase rather than a simple crossing. It is only when he lands upon the other side, paws skidding in the soil, does he dare breathe again. He clings tight to mouseflight once on the other side, brushing his flank against his in a congratulatory manner, and if his legs are shaking - well, only the two of them will know, right?

  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • a lithe figured black and white tom with a false-pointed pattern and clear blue eyes that gleam periwinkle in the right lighting. he seems perpetually worn and exhausted, with heavy bags beneath his eyes and a slouched posture. he has a speech impediment which leaves him with a stutter and sometimes even completely non-verbal, and his fluffy tail is adorned with carefully woven daisies.

    physically medium && mentally easy && pacifist
    non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
    please attack using [b][color=#ccccff]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

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Greeneyes braces for something horrific as cream fur moves too soon across the thunderpath that stands in their path. A casualty, already? So soon? The warrior had carried a hope they'd make it back safely, but with such recklessness he currently observes, that hope dwindles quickly, transforms into something dreadful.

StarClan must be watching over them - the cream tom makes it across the thunderpath with little breathing room, a monster zooming down the path mere seconds after the ThunderClanner finds his catastrophic success.

Unlike the ThunderClanner, Greeneyes knows to wait for safety, for a call to run forward. The monsters' march down the path seems never-ending - urgent, as if they too are running. White paws stand at the edge of the thunderpath, waiting for a break in the stampede. The empty gap is marked by Orangeblossom's call to run, and the tom double-checks for himself that the coast is clear, before charging forward.

Fear chews at him as calloused paws hit the stone-coated thunderpath beneath him, but he doesn't let it stop him from moving forward. It isn't long before nears the opposite edge of the thunderpath, a final leap forward guiding him to safety on its grassy barrier.

"Stars, I hope that's the only one," he breathlessly lets out, concerned of the risks they'll have to take each time - time-wise and health-wise. His sides heave as he lingers at the thunderpath's edge, a verdant gaze watching in case he needs to leap back into its depths to aid a fear-frozen journey-mate.
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    GREENKITGREENPAWGREENEYES, Warrior of SkyClan
    Daisyflight x Raven Ramble
    — AMAB; He/Him
    — A red tabby and white tom with bright green eyes.
    — Mentored by Sheepcurl; Currently mentoring Falconpaw
    — "Speech"; Attack

    : * — Among SkyClan's first born, Greeneyes is a bright tom with an affinity for the world around him. Despite always seeking to be kind to others, the warrior believes he's cursed - a belief brought on by rhetoric that green is a deadly color.
 

Her traveling companions do well to listen, understand the dangers and a rush of pride outweighs the fear. They would do just fine with such a commendable bunch. Even with their inexperience. She isn't surprised to see a ThunderClan warrior rushing to the other side- Show off. Perhaps Howlingstar should have sent wiser warriors instead of cats swallowed up by their egos. RiverClan would not be presenting themselves so foolishly.

One of the collared kittypets offered to assist anyone, and Hazecloud nodded in agreement. They wouldn't need the help. Of course Iciclefang is the shining example in taking after SkyClan's deputy; waiting for the rumbling to completely quiet before moving.

"RiverClan, stick together and keep up." Her command is firm as she urged the rest of them to follow the tortie. Hazecloud would bring up the rear, ready to push on any of those falling behind to save their hides.
 
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Other Skyclanner's offered assistance, but she paid them no heed. Mosspaw's heart soared with pride at Iciclefang's cool assertion that Riverclan did not need any assassinate. For a moment the fear in her heart ebbed. She nodded her assent, they would all cross together. Her muscles tensed, readying herself for the moment she and her clanmates would race across. She focused on keeping her breathing slow and steady.

Now!

At Iciclefang's signal, she darted forward, not giving herself a moment to think as she ran across the thunderpath. The strange stone felt uncomfortable under her paws and the smell grew to be unbearable. Hazecloud commands them to stick together and keep up and Mosspaw barely remembered to nod her assent through the adrenaline coursing through her.

It felt like it took an eternity to reach the other side, but eventually her paws touch the grass again. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

Turning, she looked to the other Riverclanners, wanting to make sure they had made it safely as well.​
 

✿—— unsurprisingly, nobody seems willing to take her up on her offer. the tabby wilts a little, taking a half-step back from the thunderpath's edge as a black-furred thunderclanner streaks across like a star flying through the night sky, landing on the other side and darting towards the golden one. she delivers a quick cuff to his ear, putting paid to any assumptions that this was a joyful reunion, and bobbie shifts on her paws and debates whether she should cross now. a green-eyed tabby riverclanner and cherrypaw herself are among the reacting crowd, and the lilac tabby glances towards her clan's calico apprentice, wondering if cherrypaw would dare to follow the example of the golden thunderclanner. thank starclan, she doesn't, instead shrugging when bobbie's eyes find her.

orangeblossom calls for another group to cross, and while bobbie's tempted to join the flock, duskpool's words nearby put the idea to bed. as more and more cats cross—a mottled windclanner, a tortie riverclanner, thunderclanners both dark-furred and pale, periwinklebreeze (finally, a name), greeneyes, and even the irritating shape of slate—she flashes an anxious glance towards the smoky-pelted tom. the last of the riverclanners cross in the safety of a group and she fixes duskpool with a firm gaze, mewing, "you should cross now, duskpool. there's no use of you coming on this journey if you get flattened, is there?"

though she tries to inject some levity into her words, it falls flat, and the lilac tabby inhales deeply. she cannot force him to make the smart decision—and every moment she'd spend trying to get these foolish ideas of self-sacrifice out of his head would be less and less time for her to cross on her own. and so, she scans the path, and whether duskpool heeds her words or not, she pushes forward.

the thunderpath's surface is hot and cracked under her paws, its scent foul and bitter rising in clouds of fumes, but she feels no rumbles and sees no glowing eyes. the forest flies by dark around her, and after what feels like a mere heartbeat, she's across. the tabby's quick to move near her clanmates who have, giving a begrudging nod of agreement towards slate as she looks to orangeblossom, "are you alright? that seems like it hurts...."

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  • ooc: crossed & interacting with @SLATE and @orangeblossom
  • nothing here, have a nice day :-)
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    — bobbie
    — she/her ; warrior of skyclan ; 40 ☾s
    "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
    — chibi by its_oliverr
    — penned by dejavu

 
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Dovethroat has been one of the quieter members of the trip, as far as everything was concerned. A more hostile eye would have characterized him as unhelpful, given his severe dearth of suggestions or information or input at all, but that probably was not the most correct way of looking at it. He was not being a hinderance, unless one counted a vague sense of "team morale" being lowered. And considering how much everyone else felt comfortable separating into clearly clan-segregated groups and calling everyone else idiots, Dovethroat would probably uncharacteristically snort at such an accusation.

Regardless, he was not a volunteer; he did not know who else had been forced into this journey, as he has not asked. For all he knows, he is the one sane man cooped up in a cage full of over-zealous mans-with-plans. He would gnaw on the inside of his cheek if he could.

He isn't stupid, but he is wary. He does not move until there is no sound at all, and even then only commits to anything once Hazecloud tells the other RiverClanners to do so. In all his brain-confined idealism, he still was willing to kowtow to a leader from his group. He was not perfect.

Managing relatively well, he skids to a stop after dashing across the path. It was not pleasant, but all he feels is a bit ruffled around the neck. He looks around, ensuring that the feather is still where it is meant to be. It is. He glances over at Mosspaw, providing nothing but the sound of him breathing and a slight look of reassurance. He has not actually spoken, unless absolutely necessary, in quite a bit.

 
Leaving the gathering to begin the journey was supposed to be easy. He wasn't leaving anyone close behind, but, to leave the familiar terrain was hard. To leave his clan, even harder. But he had other clanmates here. With the first steps leaving the four trees, he'd take a breath.

His steps from there would leave the old him behind. He had aspirations that Milkpaw needed to follow. With his old steps, the arrogant apprentice that was stuck on his high horse would be left behind. With his new steps, he'd vow to be a better cat. Confident, loyal, but he'd still have his fun. He'd just have to be mature about it.

No more pranks. Watch, observe, learn. He would be traveling with four other clans, he should not disappoint them.

As they approached the thunderpath, fear trembled through his paws, uneasiness rolling in his stomach. He heard the stories of the tom that was harboured in Shadowclan after being hit by a monster. And watching another feline nearly get ran over by the bright light and rumbling form of a monster, it caused a shudder in his breath.

As He joined the final group that was called, his pawsteps hitting the cold black surface, he hesitated, before springing himself foreward with the group. He couldn't open his eyes, no, not until his paws touched the grass on the other side, and his form collided with someone. An eye opened, And a nervous chuckle would escape him. "Sorry," he said, ducking his ears and moving away carefully.
 


TW: brief mentions of gore and death

The Thunderpath.

Little Wolfs breath hitches in her throat. She knows it was inevitable, they would have to cross. She had not been to a thunderpath since her apprentices death though. The last time she had laid eyes on one there was a small gray body, crushed and broken legs bent at odd angles and eyes staring up blankly at the heavens. The shadowed warrior closes her eyes tight, willing the memory to go away. It is not until she hears exclamations and murmuring that she opens her eyes and looks. Lightstrike had dashed across the black path with reckless abandon. He is lucky that a monster had not hit him, that his journey had not ended so quickly.

She watches as one cat after the other dashes across the path, her lips pressed into a thin, nervous line. She had crossed a thunderpath countless times but this time was the first in a very long while that she felt afraid. She had seen what those heavy black paws could do to a cat, it is not an ending she wishes for herself much less any of the other cats present. Still, the numbers on the other side of the path are dwindling and even Hailstorm goes, brushing her shoulder on the way.

She watches him, holding her breath the whole time and only releasing it when he is safely across. Shortly after him, she comes to the edge of that black surface, feels for rumbles, looks for lights, and when it is clear she closes her eyes and runs as fast as she can, heart pounding in rhythm with her paw steps. She nearly barrels into @HAILSTORM. but she stops just in time. When she opens her eyes she is staring at her chest. She looks up and lets out a nervous laugh "Ha! Sorry about that." she says, feeling flustered as she skitters backwards slightly.
 
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Duskpool watched with rapt attention as cats flung themselves across the thunderpath, making it across with little indecent. He breathed, flank rising until Bobbie's voice broke him from his stupor, leveling the molly a deadpan gaze. She was right. There really was no use, but a habit he long since adopted, rumbling in acknowledgment.

He was a self-sacrificing fool, and he knew damn well that would be his downfall, but Duskpool didn't seem to care. He wasn't dyin' now. He was sure of that, but he didn't trust these cats within an inch of his life, even if they all shared the same goal. His nose wrinkled, lips quirking in a half-hearted smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

The older warrior let a molten gaze glide through the last remnant of cats that hadn't crossed until a sip slipped past marred lips. He followed the molly, pausing till the front of his paws scrapped against the rough pavement, ignoring the star-awful stench that wafted upward, curling around his frame, sure to leave its trace.

He grunted, lunging forward with the last group, paws slapping against the hard surface, ignoring the way his heart thudded, blood roaring in his ears. He rumbled, ignoring the prickling fear at the roar of monsters ringing above the beat of his heart, threatening to tear from its prison to land on the other side, claws digging into the ground.

Duskpool sucked in a breath, pivoting his helm to stare at the rest, molten copper narrowing until someone collided with him, drawing a loud grunt from the male. He turned, staring at @milkpaw with a critical gaze. "Watch yourself, kid." He rumbled, wooly tail flickering.
thought speech
 
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In a flash, a golden tom launches himself forward and for a split second, Needledrift sees blood and betrayal rather than bravery. It is Sunnyday, sprawled across the acrid blackstone in the aftermath of a fight. Needledrift waits, watching with wide green eyes as a monster rip-roars past the first crossing cat. She waits for his body to appear as the monster tears by, waits for blood to be spilled, but the tom turns out just fine.

Needledrift allows herself to relax for just a moment.

One by one, the other clans begin to cross, each without incident or injury. She turns to @SHARPPAW. , her round eyes dark with concern. It was a common wound in ShadowClan, Briarstar's death. Perhaps Sharppaw felt it ache at this moment as well. "You go ahead first. I'll be right behind you."
 


Milkpaw looked up to the tom, looking at him with a gaze that made his own brows furrow. The fact he continued to call him a kid sent a fury through the young boy. Sure, he was a kid, but he was also not. He was about to be a warrior, a strong one. And he didn't need the condescending tone, but instead of snapping like he felt he needed to- he sighed deeply inwards. The kittypet wasn't going to win against his temper. "I'm not a 'kid'."

Also, he had said sorry, so he didn't know why the male continued to snap. " And I did say sorry."