BUT HEAVEN, NO HEAVEN DON'T HEAR ME ✧ steep cliffside

Iciclefang trudges along, her mind elsewhere, when a drop of something cold as her namesake shocks the tip of her nose. She halts in her tracks, her tail lifting in surprise. "Look" she says to her companions, lifting her gaze skyward. The trail ascends before them, and the clouds seemed to have descended in wispy, hazy streaks of gray to conceal their vision; their underbellies have a lavender tint, the color of clouds pregnant with snow.

As they continue, the snow begins to gather in clusters, joining older patches of white that carpet what little foliage remains. Tree cover, full rivers, and prey-rich territory are behind them now. Her pawsteps catch a bit of ice against the stone every now and then, and she must be careful not to slide.

The temperature has lowered considerably since exiting the rockslide. The terrain had become stony and unfavorable, but now the path before them arches, shooting into the snow-blown clouds with astonishing height. The face of the cliff is rocky, studded with texture and overhangs. In vain, Iciclefang's pale eyes flick from side to side, searching for another path they can take up into the clouds.

There's nothing but sheer cliff face facing the cats now.

"Great StarClan," she hisses in frustration. What are they meant to do now?


  • SkyClan event thread 8)
  •  
  • iciclekit . iciclepaw . iciclefang
    — she/her ; warrior of riverclan
    — lesbian ; single
    — short-haired tortoiseshell with white and ice-blue eyes
    — "speech", thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Pin
 
WE HAVE YET TO CRASH ✧°.☀ —————————————————————————————
In spite of the dropping temperatures and the steadily increasing amounts of snow, ice, and cold paws, Lightstrike found that he felt pretty good on this day. Even if patches of sunlight bouncing directly off the stark white singed his eyeballs. He was pretty sure he wasn't alone in that for once, though.

As the day went on, their path grew steeper, rockier. When was the last time they'd seen a tree? The wind carried a chill that was beginning to blow right through his fur. Once or twice he muttered a complaint to one of his neighbors, but on they went.

Here, though, their trek screeched to a halt. A towering wall of sheer rock and icy snow, with no discernible way around—or up—in sight. They were stumped, himself included. Worst of all, craning his neck to peer up, up, up made his head swim with an all-too-familiar dizziness. Not to mention that staring directly up at the sky was not kind to his eyes or head.

Quickly dropping his gaze back down toward ground level, Lightstrike blinked away the lingering haze in his peripherals. "There's gotta be a way around," he insisted after a moment. "There's no way we gotta go up there."

[penned by its_oliverr - ]
——————————— ☀.°✧ BUT WE STILL MAY AS WELL ENJOY IT
 

At least the sky had been beautiful a few dusks ago. It was dull and stone-grey now- the best thing he could say about it was at least he could see his own feet in front of him. Anything could be gorgeous when he remembered that, only days ago, he'd been trapped in constricting walls with unseen snakes and tender feelings, denying with every breath the hopelessness he'd felt, trying to encourage everyone else so the misery didn't affect him, too.

The journey wasn't going to give the a break though. When Cicadastar had said that they needed their bravest cats, Fernpaw had imagined hardships like predators, like long walks, like laborious swims against the current. All of those difficulties were still present, but... there were unconsidered issues, too. Like this.

He felt frost biting at his skin, but was unsure whether it was the temperature or the shock of seeing something quite so high. As if the ground itself was taking a moment to luxuriously stretch, the mountain's muscles unfurling into the low-hanging clouds, the ground just went up. So high up that Fernpaw failed to shut his mouth for a few excruciatingly long moments.

A stunned eye flicked to Iciclefang- and then, aware of what he was doing, away again, seeking someone else familiar. Figfeather, Mosspaw, Lightstrike- he grimaced at the golden Thunderclanner's words. "You all said that about the river..." Tone reluctant, Fernpaw swallowed. He would have to eat his words, now. "We- we can't slow down..." There was a certain dizziness about his voice as he said it.
penned by pin
 
Mouseflight was not used to the cold weather, the one leaf-bare he was alive for he spent in the nursery in camp, huddling with his mother and the other kits at the time. By the time he had been old enough to become an apprentice there had been cold sure, but never ice and never the biting winds that he felt now, and never in his life did Mouseflight think that he would have to deal with climbing. He had already faced swimming - though luckily he hadn't gotten wet - but now climbing, the two things WindClanners did not do. "I saw some cats climb before, and I'm sure they'd be fine." Small scoff came from him as the words tumbled out, the fact that the SkyClanners he saw climb the giant tree could leave the rest of them behind if they wanted, "But what about the rest of us?"

The ice was not something that he wanted to deal with, being shoved up a cliff only to slip, fall, and die by one little tiny patch of frozen water. Eyes moved their way up the rocky edge before he quickly looked down and away, getting out of the way of whoever dared try to climb this hazardous thing. He'd had enough of rocks already, he didn't need any more of them so soon.
  •  
  • tikki_com.png
    mousekit - mousepaw - mouseflight
    ⋆ ftm - he/him - 11 moons
    ⋆ bisexual - open to relationship
    ⋆ tunneler of windclan
    attack - speech - thought
    ⋆ penned by tikki
 

✿ | the soreness in her paws has ebbed away with time, without the constant piercing scrape and relentless strides of the cave-in, though a certain necessary ache still lingers within. their reemergence had beckoned in a new environment entirely—gone are the full clear rivers speckled with foam, the mist-drenched tree cover, the empty fields that made walking easy, and most of all, the rich and relatively easy prey. it is all behind them now, receding in favor of sparse and stunted foliage and heaps of snow, ashen skies and icy stone underpaw. the trail zigzags upwards towards the cloud-drenched sky, and she can feel sweat popping on her pawpads with every burning step.

still, for all its differences, there's a certain warm familiarity to the landscape—not the snow, of course, but the sparse pine trees and the earth barren of undergrowth are like a frozen version of home. lost in thoughts of her clan back in the territories, how they fare without the cure, of a certain golden face (she must block it from her mind), she nearly runs into the cat in front of her and stops by a whisker-length. her sage gaze, dragging upwards, is quick to intake the reason—before them stretches an arching cliff face, rocky and pocked with texture like a tree's rough trunk.

like a tree trunk. bobbie blinks at the sight before them, eyes dancing over the jutting overhangs and carved clawholds of unforgiving rock. not like home, certainly, and yet—and yet it feels so similar that the tabby's paws suddenly itch to climb. all around her, cats hiss and insist on a way around the mammoth rock, but the warrior stares at it with a strange and simple happiness. mouseflight's words ring out, what about the rest of us? and bobbie's eyes finally take in the patches of ice pocking the cliff. still, it really doesn't look too bad to her; perhaps it's stupid optimism, but even ice can become a clawhold with some effort.

"it's not too bad, really," the tabby chimes in, stepping forward with uncharacteristic confidence, buoyed by the singular thing on this journey that makes her feel like a real warrior as opposed to a helpless kit. glancing around to see if any of her clanmates might join her, rosemary eyes pick out clawholds and juts of rock, and bobbie jumps with a quick and easy push of her hind legs, unsheathed claws catching in cracks of the snow-dusted stone. "and then you just—" she hooks another paw and hauls herself up in a fast pull, letting her hind paw rest on an outcropping, half-bent, and hold her still.

looking to the cats below, she feels only a tinge of embarassment (to her own surprise), but she navigates back to earth just as quickly from her short height (stars, it's like climbing down a trunk!) and twists to look at their multicolored faces. ears flicking against the chilly wind, she offers, "i—we—can surely help you all get up? just as the riverclanners helped us all across?" she watches for reactions to her proposition, a small protesting voice in her chest telling her to step back and shut up, one she squashes into silence. the tabby blinks and mews with wry good humor, "if a kittypet can do it, i'm certain you can."

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  • OOC:
  • 69139508_1sAITfLOTccefSa.png
    ( BOBBIE ) WARRIOR OF SKYCLAN.
    x she / her ; 40 moons.
    x mother to lupinepaw, crowpaw, & drowsypaw.
    x a small, pretty lilac tabby with a red collar & sage-green eyes ; sweet, sociable, and somewhat naive to certain aspects of clan life.
    x currently in an era of self-assessment and trying to figure out exactly who she wants to be.
 
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The farther they traveled, the scarcer the trees had become. The wind and snow had slowly begun to increase...Leafbare was in full blown season here. She had known that the mountains would be cold, that's why the lungwort grew here after all...but it didn't make it any easier. Back home, her clanmates were still probably going through leaf-fall, but with the chilled winds here, it was difficult to imagine any other season going on anywhere else.

The rockslide was several days behind them. She couldn't help but wonder if the event had slowed them down, or perhaps taken them through a short cut. Either way, what happened had happened, and there was no undoing anything. She was just thankful that nobody had been lost. There could have been many different outcomes that day. Starclan truly was watching over them.

Their path lead them to a cliff face. One taller than she could have ever imagined. As she lifts her head, she swears the top was being swallowed by clouds. She swallows nervously, and glances around for any other obvious path. Surely they didn't seriously have to climb this, right? Her attention flicks to Lightstrike, glancing upon the wound on his eye. He won't make the climb...there has to be another way. She opens her maw, wanting to protest, but she knows if they split now to find a different path, they would only be wasting precious days that their clanmate's back at home didn't have.

This was not like climbing a tree. There was no bark to sink their claws into...no branches to catch their falls. Should we leave the injured here at the base? No...we can't split the group.. Her mind drifts back to her first climbing session with Flycatcher. She had fallen out of the Great Sycamore that day, and sprained her paw...but she had lived. Falling from such heights now would be a death sentence. Starclan help us. The red molly shook out her pelt, to hopefully warm herself up a little. A voice from above catches her attention, and she flicks her green gaze a little ways up the rock face. The collared Skyclanner was climbing it, declaring to the group that if a kitty pet could climb, they could too. The Lead Warrior let out a small huff...she hadn't figured out why Blazestar had sent one of his kitty pet warriors on this mission, but perhaps this one wasn't too bad.

She turned her attention to her clanmates, her gaze hard with determination. "We can do it. Starclan wouldn't have sent us on this mission if they didn't believe in us."
  • flamegal.png
    FLAMEWHISKER of THUNDERCLAN
    LH red tabby with low white (masks black tabby, carries dilute, solid)
    — Lead Warrior of Thunderclan ; currently mentoring Acornpaw
    — she/her ; mated with Flycatcher
    — mother to Stormpaw & Falconpaw
    — 24 moons ; ages on the 20th
    — Smells like dirt, old leaves, tree sap, faint hint of flowers
    — will start a fight, will finish fights, will kill (case depending)
    "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
    — penned by Icey ! ; link to tags
    — link to toyhouse
    — funny guy art by waluigipinball​



 
Slate hates the snow; it's cold on his paws, often rendering them numb, and the particles stick to his belly far too easily. Powder is covering his underside now as he takes exaggerated, arcing steps in order to stay out of the snow as much as possible. It was rather bothersome, yes, but this environment isn't anything he hasn't handled before.

Until now.

Like everyone else, his eyes follow the trail that ascends upward staggeringly so — a literal cliff face, by far the steepest he's ever seen. It was almost a no-brainer to start looking for a way around... almost. Until Bobbie and a few others started discussing the possibility of climbing up. The SkyClan lead warrior whipped his gaze in their direction, a critical stare accompanying it. "Nope. No way." The tom snorted. "You do realize a fall from that height could kill a cat?" This wasn't a tree. They couldn't sink their claws into literal rock in order to hold on. If they slipped from a tall height, they were finished!

Slate continued to scoff, giving an irritated lash of his bushy and snow-covered tail, "We crossed a damn river that nearly drowned several of us, just survived nearly being crushed by falling rocks and navigated a- a pitch black cave that we were lucky to make it out of alive. And now you want us to climb this? Are you out of your mind?" He doesn't see another way out, not from where he's standing, but surely there must be another way around!

"If we all slip and fall to our deaths, then there won't be anyone to fetch this damn herb!" This journey would have all been for naught! Why didn't anyone seem to realize that? Slate was reckless and bold in his own right, but he was smart enough to know when to reconsider his options for the sake of keeping himself alive.

  • lmk if he's distracting too much from the event, and absolutely feel free to tell him off
  • slatechibi.png
    SLATE
    —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
    —— bisexual; single; not looking
    —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles
 
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He won't lie, he's still recovering from the cave fiasco and tired from those few sleepless nights but he kept pushing himself forward but at the sight of the steep cliff the mountain of fur couldn't help but inwardly grimace. His eyes focusing on Bobbie as she speaks showing them how they could potentially get to the other side and silently agrees with Flamewhisker. Although, he's worried for all the injured cats but his attention wavers to Slate who starts talking about how the height could kill them. The river and rockslide could've killed them but they were all still here and he silently thanks Starclan for it but a frown forms on his maw, the fur on his neck prickling ever so slightly. They couldn't afford to slow down when they could be so close and Hailstorm takes a step forward with his snout creasing slightly in frustration "Then you're more than welcome to find any other way around." If he had a tail it would've been lashing to the sides so his ears lay flat on his skull as he continues "We survived the river and the rockslide, we can surely survive this too. If we delay any further then there won't be any cats to cure."

Which was true. He couldn't imagine how many cats may have succumbed to the sickness already and he tried not to dwell on it, Hailstorm didn't want to imagine how many cats had fallen since they had been home. A soft growl leaves him and quite frankly he would rather continue moving than try finding another way around it hadn't worked for the river and it wouldn't work now. "We just need to be careful." He says finally as he begins to silently pray to Starclan once more. They needed to get across, he turns to Bobbie and perks both ears forward "I'll follow your lead," She seemed to know what she was doing... A lot more than Slate that is.


  • 5_by_caviesh_dg4bkw8.png
    ✦ 47 moons old
    ✦ thunderclan warrior
    ✦ bisexual demiromantic; single
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    ✦ semi-difficult in combat; relies on strength and his burly build
    ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed
    ✦ penned by bosstaurus
 
❀​ OH HOME, LET ME COME HOME ❀​

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

If it's not one thing it's another he thinks, staring up at the sheer face of rock forlornly. He's a terrible climbe - windclan cats are meant to keep all four paws upon the ground after all, if not beneath it even. He'd tried once, as a joke - or a dare? it's been so long memories have grown fuzzy - and where another had managed, he'd failed. He's not keen to repeat such a scene - let alone on such a terrifying sight, instead of a small tree.

But what use is it to speak up now? They have to keep going, keep moving forwards - what bobbie and flamewhisker say makes sense. Starclan picked all five clans for a reason, must have known they'd be facing such dangers that one clan laone couldn't handle. Though... he shudders to think what, exactly, might lay in wait next if that's the case - trail and tribulation make one stronger, but he's not sure it's worth it.

Not for what will probably be a mouthful of herbs that will only help cats he doesn't even care for in the first place. "It's n-not like we have any other ch-choice," he mutters quietly, shaking his head - what use is it worrying and arguing, when it's inevitable anyways? Head turns away in silence, watching for now - he's certainly not going first.

  • 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

 

dfsiw1w-6a338f22-aae1-492a-977c-37693fa88d2d.gif
The tom doesn't expect to deal with leaf-bare weather so early, but leaf-fall was practically skipped over upon their exit from the rubble, and a chill has been in the air since. Snow has fallen here - its presence a mere reminder of loss, a solemnity that would be guiding his paws to trudge forward, if the frost bound to his white paws wasn't already doing so.

It is not the first time his mind wanders to star-pelted fur - to a sibling who'd known such weather as his namesake - since its presence had been known to the journey-goers' travels, and Greeneyes doesn't think it will be the last. Later, when they have some downtime again, he will seize the moment to grieve - to search for him in the night sky - but for now, he must be present in their travels.

But, oh, they can never seem to cover much distance without an obstacle in the way, can they? The Stars had told of a dangerous journey, of course, but Greeneyes didn't expect it to be this arduous. If it's not a thunderpath, then it's twoleg traps; it's a river, a rockslide. A cliff.

Greeneyes peers up at the rocky terrain that blocks their way, tall and upright, with no means of getting around it - even if others protest it, ask for another way around, just as some had way back at the river. He hardly pays any mind to the bickering, his gaze locked on the boulder before him - the divots and protrusions that shape it. A path to climb, one similar to the branches of the big tree they'd found prior to the rockfall, to the pine trees back home.

Mouseflight shares the idea before Greeneyes can - however doubt is held in the WindClanner's words, as Bobbie moves to test the boulder's hold. Almost effortless, again - the warrior can feel his own hesitation arising once more.

Though having an apprentice to train has aided in his own climbing skills, his starts are still imperfect, his climbing style not nearly as graceful as some of his clanmates. Still, he'd climbed the big tree with ease, had done so in moments of importance back home too. Stars, he even knew how to hang upside down in the branches - even if only for a few seconds before falling to the ground. Greeneyes isn't the same clumsy apprentice he had been; he's a SkyClan warrior now, and climbing is in his blood. He can do this.

"I'll help!" he says, echoing Bobbie's offer as she makes her return to the ground below, "We're not going to leave you all to wait down here - of course, we're going to help you up." Whether it's teaching them how to climb, or pulling them up himself - they needed to stick together, and Greeneyes wasn't going to let the group split off again.
border2.png

  • 70927026_mk0oT2Gc8QoWlIu.png

    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.
 
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IMG_1176.png

FIGFEATHER

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Figfeather felt sick. Not even at the idea of having to climb this cliffside; mind you, but sick that she could not offer aid. SkyClan's time to shine in this journey seems to have been up, but what was her purpose here? She'd practically have to be dragged up like a kit herself! She feels herself grow flushed with embarrassment just thinking about it.

If she couldn't help… the least she would do is get herself up there. She was a SkyClan cat after all, surely she still had the strength?

Figfeather approaches the rockwall, she knows exactly where to hook her claws into its surface, exactly where to place her legs, but when it comes down to it…

"Umph-"

She just doesn't have the strength.

Flat on her haunches now she finds herself more embarrassed than ever. She has to resist the urge to cry out her frustration, she picks herself up- fearful of embarrassment but determined to try again.
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  • // planned to teamwork up with @STORMYWING but cats are still free to notice and comment on her struggles :)
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
Mosspaw perked up at the sound of Iciclefang's voice. Glancing over, she noticed her staring skyward and followed her gaze. Her heart sank. A cliff of pure stone rose up before them, seeming to ascend toward the very stars themselves. Craning her neck, she could barely find its peak.

Sullenly, she nodded as one of the Thunderclanners - the reckless one that had charged across the Thunderpath - insisted they would have to find a way around. Fernpaw argued against him, claiming that this was just like the river, and reminding them all that they could not afford delays. For once, she did not rush to agree with her clanmate. While she didn't want to agree with a Thunderclanner over her own clanmate out loud, she was certain they would have to go around. She didn't like it either, but she didn't see any other way. Climbing that would mean certain death.

Then the collared kittypet stepped forward confidently and leap up to grab onto the wall, before easily pulling herself up onto a small outcrop. Then, gracefully, she climbed back down to the ground. Mosspaw's eyes widened. The kittypet said that they could all do the same, with the help of the Skyclanners.

"If a kittypet can do it, I'm certain you can."

Her ear flicked. The comment stung her pride a bit.

"It is very high up." Mosspaw protested uselessly. Still, she knew the kittypet was right. It was just like she had said herself back at the river, they could not afford the delays that going around would cause. If it was possible to climb then they were duty bound to try. Their clans were depending on them. Still, as she turned her gaze back to the sheer wall of rock and ice before them she felt her stomach lurch.

Another of the Skyclanner's railed against the idea, and Mosspaw flinched as he emphasized, over and over, that they would die if they fell. Her breathing sped up. Each of his words gave voice to her own fears, and she felt her panic growing the more he spoke. Closing her eyes, she tried to steady herself, sending up a silent prayer to Starclan.

// planning to get help from @bobbie
 
WE HAVE YET TO CRASH ✧°.☀ —————————————————————————————
One by one cats enter the fray of bickering. We have to climb! some say. We should find a way around! the others argue. Clearly Lightstrike leaned toward the latter half of that argument, but he had to admit that at the rate they continued to sit there, they would all turn to ice and nothing would get done.

A burly, dark-furred cat was preaching about how the climb would be nothing short of a death sentence. Slate, a SkyClanner, if he remembered right. Bobbie scaled a portion of the rock face like it was nothing, only to return right back to the bottom. Show off.

It was becoming increasingly clear that there was no avoiding the climb as vague aggravation settled like a pit in his belly. Even though he was pretty good at climbing, even he was doubting this entire shitshow. Fuck it, he abruptly decided. There was no time for this. It was cold out, and they still had a long way to go yet.

"Oh for fuck's sake," the ThunderClanner grumbled, sidling along until he found a spot he was willing to start. Craning his neck to look up was still making his head swim with unbalance and his stomach lurch, but he firmly decided he was going to ignore it. What else could he do?

His crouch was brief, and Lightstrike sprang upward, only briefly scrabbling for a secure hold, and he was in place. There. Now he just had to go... the rest of the way. Bracing himself, the tom looked up to search for his next grip, but vertigo made his teeth clench and he screwed his eyes shut. Reaching up for the spot he'd glimpsed near blindly, he hooked his claws on the small ledge.

It crumbled beneath his weight.

Both rock and cat descended back to the bottom, one with a yowl, and he barely had time to twist himself in the air before he landed with a fwump in shockingly cold snow, sending the flakes every which way. He was upright in a heartbeat, dusted with white and fortunately unharmed, save for the ache in his paws. Aware of the eyes on him, he scowled and averted his gaze, shaking himself out.

[penned by its_oliverr - ]
——————————— ☀.°✧ BUT WE STILL MAY AS WELL ENJOY IT
 

⭒✧ It was an intimidating sight, the rockface. Chalk was well versed in slant stone and towering structures but the organic and fractured angles of the stone gave even the daylight warrior pause. His ears bent forward in thought as he slid between the group to the base, considering the safest route. The wound on the tom's shoulder no longer limited movement but the extended motion required for a climb like this would no doubt aggravate it. Chalk's whiskers dimmed.

The chill too, was a hindrance, with every step consciously placed to avoid stumbling on the ice. He cast a curt look towards the horizon, the silver haze around them proof of their high altitude. Magpiepaw might be with them but the difficulty of an injury in this terrain would be magnified. In that moment, Chalk held no excitement for what was to come, only the grim awareness that this was yet another test.

Tumult rolled across their ranks, a call to starclan from Iciclefang, optimism from Mouseflight and Flamewhisker. Lightstrike proposed they find another way around and Chalk recalled, with a splinter of amusement, saying something similar when faced with the river crossing. Fernpaw says as much and points out their need for haste. He found himself tipping his head in agreement with the riverclanner.

Bobbie's tone drew a sharp ear, her choice to poke fun at those who doubted kittypets sitting heavy on his chest. Now isn't the time, Chalk found himself thinking, the memory of Stormywing in the river and hollow voices amongst the rock fall fracturing his patience. They needed these cats to listen to them, to trust their instruction as they ascended. Their reputation already made it hard enough.

Debate continued to crack through them, shards of uncertainty loud amongst the muttered reassurances. Unexpectedly, another of his clanmates added to the reluctance. 'And now you want us to climb this? Are you out of your mind?' This wasn't helping. An uncharacteristic stiffness piqued the fur along his back. "Some of us have experience with rocky terrain. And besides, " The barest cut of annoyance was chiselled onto Chalk's expression as he looked to Slate, "the usual principles apply. We go carefully."

Lancing up the first couple of outcrops, Chalk was wary of the stone's integrity. That old root cluster looked safe but wasn't, that section was mostly shale, there- Lightstrike's failed attempt drew him from his assessment with a wince. The daylight warrior turned back, relieved to hear Greeneyes echo Bobbie's offer for help. It was the best way forward. "If we determine the safest routes and prop cats up it's doable." he affirmed, before beginning to distinguish the dangerous segments aloud.

/ plotted to assist @iciclefang but he's open to questions/will be calling out advice as he goes
⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒
 
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
The damn weather wasn't doing him much, watching with deadpan optics at the culminating snow with a wrinkled muzzle. It made his insides freeze, stiffening long-healed bone until it throbbed in an ugly reminder of a life he couldn't seem to get away from. His obsidian fur ruffled, bubbling with the warmth he wished would seep into worn-out bones, but it never did him any justice but helped the others keep some of their fading warmth as the environment changed.

Duskpool shifted, peering up at the rock wall with deadpan hues. He grunted. It would be no simple task, especially with cats that hadn't dared to climb. It was a monstrous climb, but they made it this far, he sure as hell wouldn't be turnin' back now. He breathed, flank rising with the motion, letting the chilly air fill his lungs, expression hardening.

His gaze flickered to Lightstrike, attempting to climb only for the tom to land right back on his ass. He bit back a rumbling report to peer in Figfeather's direction, noticing her struggle made his heart twinge, but he trusted the molly enough to keep her helm on straight. With that, Duskpool directed his attention ahead, wooly tail curling at Chalk's report.

They better get movin' before the sky bleeds dark, otherwise, he didn't think any of them would make it out alive. He shifted his helm, padding closer, limp nearly gone save for the familiar burn that came with it to scan a molten orb up, taking note of rocks that looked good enough to hold a cat's weight and others that threatened to succumb to gravity. "We better keep an eye out on the sky, don't need to be climbin' in the dark, not knowin' where to put your paws." He rumbled, turning to peer at the group, tone deadpan. "I'll keep to the back in case one of ya slips." His gaze narrowed, tone bubbling with determination despite the dullness, torn ear flickering at Chalk's voice distinguishing what's safe and isn't.
thought speech
 
Cherrypaw doesn't get a good eyefull of their newest obstacle until she shoves her way to the forefront. The nature of it was quite clear though; even the shortest set of eyes in the back of the crowd could spot the curtain of craggy grey looming before them. It's a stately, grisly thing, swollen with a LionClanner's majesty frozen in time. As she strides closer, she automatically begins to pick out the darkest crevices and palest blots, secure places to wedge a paw into or flat areas to step carefully atop, respectively. She doesn't even notice she's doing so until Bobbie gathers the crowd's attention with a demonstration of Cherrypaw's initial thoughts: forepaw there, jump to the pawhold a whisker-length right and above.

She doesn't feel the slightest bit of chagrin when the pride gathers in her chest. While she'd never really questioned Bobbie's subpar warrior-ness (in comparison to, say, Orangeblossom), she'd come across her practicing climbing so often that it was little wonder she'd actually started to learn. Of course, Cherrypaw was better, but at least Bobbie would be outdoing Slate in something now.

Speaking of her mentor, he opens his big fat mouth to tell off his fellow clanmate in front of every other clan, even as one of ThunderClan begins to agree with her. "Not everyone is shaped like a dead burnt log, @SLATE !" the calico calls out, smile brimming with cheek. It seems he's going to get talked over anyway; Hailstorm and Periwinklebreeze both assent, the latter with such a grudge in his voice that it barely counts. More SkyClanners offer their support: Greeneyes, Chalk, Duskpool. Figfeather just goes straight for it, and it's admirable though she doesn't quite get to see how she does due to the taller cats between them. Less admirable is Lightstrike's attempt, but that's expected given his stunt on the Thunderpath. (Funny how crossing it felt like moons ago.) Near her, @Mosspaw 's complaint is quiet but not unnoticed. Cherrypaw lightly taps her flank with her tail, a dazzlingly confident smile in the look she gives her. "Don't worry, we wouldn't let you fall," she blithely assures her.

Cherrypaw supposes she has to help too. No specific reason—just that those land-lovers wouldn't stand a chance without SkyClan's help. Well, she has to admit it's not entirely true. There are a few non-SkyClanners who she'd like to finally find the lungwort with, and though she doesn't see them dying on the cliffside with her intervention, it'd be a shame to leave them stuck here. She glances around, trying to scry from the motley of faces who would in particular would need help. Cherrypaw settles on a ginger one, though not the shade of ginger she'd ideally be helping and showing off in front of. Still, a showboating opportunity was a showboating opportunity. "Hey, @Flamewhisker , do you wanna go first with me?" she meows, turning sunbright eyes to the hard-eyed ThunderClanner. Not the most vulnerable of targets, but none too enthusiastic either.

ooc: she's already set to help flamewhisker and little wolf, but she's free to yell advice to y/c if needed!​
 


The bridge had not particularly scared him. How could it have?

Well, it scared him a little, but not in a particularly meaningful, deep-cutting way. Dovethroat knew, in the back of his mind, that he could help everyone at that time. It was the pressure of living up to such an internal and external expectation that instilled about half of the fear in him then.

The caves had not scared him at first, but they had gotten to him. They had gotten to him quite badly, by the end of things. At some point, he began to worry that he would go mad—even if we do get out, he had fretted, I will be irrevocably... broken, or something. It was absurd to look back on now, but that was how he had felt. The thought of Ravensong is what kept him from driving his head against a wall.

This, however, struck him with terror immediately. Fernpaw is the first to outright say that they have to climb the cliff, and Dovethroat turns to face him with an agape mouth. Lightstrike's quick and immediate failure does not exactly inspire confidence, and he watches his with neck craned upward for far longer than he probably should be. Several others have already begun their attempts by the time he even takes a step toward the cliff wall.

He has strong legs, but he weighs more—that must be a bad thing here, he tells himself. His first paw placement is interrupted when he flinches at Cherrypaw's bright, loud voice. He loses his first footing, nearly going chin-first into the rock. "H-Haha... p-please... please n-no j-j-joking," he manages to stammer out, his voice somehow both meek and annoyed.

Dovethroat's attempt at an ascent begins again, shakily making his way up and up at a snail's pace. He casts a look back at Duskpool every other second, it seems like, that worried of falling down.

 
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☁︎
Stormywing is already staring up the sheer cliff with a look of confidence on her face while everyone discusses what to do. She's one of the very best climbers ThunderClan's got! She can do this, no problem! She crouches down, wiggles her rump and leaps, her claws fastening into small cracks and ledges but the familiar feel of sinking into bark is absent. She gasps slightly in apprehension when she struggles to gain balance, hind claws unable to find any purchase and before long she loses her hold and falls back to the ground, much like her clanmate. She gives Lightstrike an embarrassed look and flattens her ears. This is not like climbing a tree, that's for sure.

Nearby, she spots that nagging SkyClanner, Figfeather, struggling herself. She realizes quickly it must be very hard to climb with a crooked leg like she's got. But she's a SkyClanner...she should at least know how to do this. Stormywing's got no choice but to ask for help. Head ducked, she approaches tentatively and casts a glance up the steep wall. "Need some help getting up? You just gotta tell me what to do, 'kay?"

// interacting with @LIGHTSTRIKE . and @FIGFEATHER
I WANNA TASTE LOVE AND PAIN ☁︎
 
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[face injury allusion in this post!]

Mouseflight watched as the various SkyClanners came forward, talking about helping the cats and climbing the rocks, Bobbie even going forward and jumping up there, climbing as if she'd lived on these rocks her whole life before climbing back down just as quickly. Annoyed by the fact that they had to rely on SkyClanners to get up there, Mouse found himself more annoyed by the fact that it was climbing they had to do - something WindClanners didn't experience ever in the moors. At least with the river they had the sun-warmed pool to know what water felt like and the cave in - although horrible for the young cat - wasn't as bad as it would have been if he wasn't a tunneler - but climbing? They had no trees in the moors that needed climbing, and he couldn't think of a single cat that actually did climb anything more than what they could just jump up to.

Soft sigh left the calico as he looked up towards the top of the cliff face, large ears soon pinning down to his skull as he carefully followed after Dovethroat, looking down and behind him as well every so often, making sure Duskpool was keeping his word. As he slowly climb, paws moved up, one after the other, until one of the stones he gripped to loosened itself from underneath him, causing him to lose his footing. Due to the angle at which he was already standing, Mouseflight found himself lurching forward, face hitting rock in front of him as he tried to scramble to keep from falling, instead sliding down before front paws caught onto a ledge and Mouse was hanging from the stone, back claws scrambling to get himself up and hold onto anything he could while all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat and the ringing in his ears.
  • he's not super far up, any SkyClanner is free to push him up onto the small ledge he ended up catching!
  • tikki_com.png
    mousekit - mousepaw - mouseflight
    ⋆ ftm - he/him - 11 moons
    ⋆ bisexual - open to relationship
    ⋆ tunneler of windclan
    attack - speech - thought
    ⋆ penned by tikki
 
Scorchpaw hates the mountains so far. They're huge, and imposing, and beautiful, but they're so... different. In WindClan's moors, she can see for miles uninterrupted by trees or hills. Here, the ground rises before her as if it were reaching out to StarClan itself, as if its peaks were the bridges from which the star-pelted spirits crossed back into their mortal world to commune with their leaders and medicine cats.

The thought of trying to climb them herself is harrowing. Her claws are built for letting her race across the moors; cleats upon the soft grasses; and their only other use is for hunting or battle. It sends a shiver down her spine to imagine digging them into the rock face, the feeling of the stone reverberating through her needle claws. Her anxiety only flares into indignation when Bobbie calls down to them all, boasting her climbing prowess despite the collar on her neck. Scorchpaw's jaw clenches. Getting help hardly occurs to her until the maned molly suggests it, and more SkyClanners join her chorus– though the only SkyClanner she would want to have assistance from has apparently already fixed her attention on someone else. A ThunderClanner, she thinks. Scorchpaw's tail flicks, and she tries not to acknowledge the twist of pressure in the pit of her chest. Maybe Cherrypaw'd had her fill of helping in the caves. Scorchpaw supposes she wouldn't blame her.

Still, she'll need a way up this cliff face somehow. Some cats have already attempted scaling the sheer wall of rock and ice. Scorchpaw glances around her, trying to spy @SCORCHSTREAK or @LUCKYPAW in her midst, but she can't pick them out. Mouseflight had already made his way up, but his paw had slipped, and now he dangled precariously from his perch. He'll fall, she thinks with alarm, but there's nothing she could do, could she? Helpless, the girl watches him with a gape in her maw.

But someone helps him find his footing again, and the danger is abated. Finally, Scorchpaw comes to her senses. If Mouseflight can do it, then she can too. She casts a last glance at Cherrypaw before approaching the sheer cliff. A breath in, and she hooks her claws in wherever they can find purchase. She's on her way up, though she's wobbling, and her stance is not exactly the greatest. It's not long before she, too, slips– a yelp of alarm squeezes from her jaws, and though she's not high up by any means, the idea of falling terrifies her.

"Um– I need help," the girl calls out to no cat in particular. There's no way she'll be able to do this without some advice.

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  • 68999045_NL19RL4Beh3AydG.png

    scorchkit . scorchpaw
    — she/they ; apprentice of windclan
    — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
    — "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by giinya, signature by raphaelion
    — penned by meghan