A horse with no name | open


You were someone once - something greater then the living memory that still lingers in the shade of the long grass. She was a leftover from an old regime now buried deep within the earth, she was nothing more then a grunt; a faceless set of claws. Her destiny was to die screeching a tyrants name into the wind; she was destined for a early grave kicking and screaming until she was bled out. Yet her existence persisted in a world that no longer made sense to her, she was content being one of a endangered many she swore her fealty in the days of her youth. She thrived once, moons ago she could've been someone but she'd bowed her head grown quiet and accepted what she always was; just another warrior of Sootstar's. She was nothing but her strength - nothing but her blind devotion to a cycle of violence someone like her knew nothing but.

The tyrant was dead, it was a undeniable truth and there was no use in continuing to promise her life and loyalty to a corpse. The sun had risen over the moorlands and it hurt her eyes. She dishonored herself, dishonored the leader she'd grown up idolizing - she was a coward who shrunk into the shadows and bowed her head. She was not a unwavering soldier - not anywhere close to fearless. She should've accepted her destiny, died in the field of battle, should've have bled out all her lost dreams and desires into the very fields she was born on. Instead she breathes, watches the clouds drift lazily over the rising sun above, a barely touched leg of a rabbit resting below one forepaw. She's alive and for what reason? What did she have left? Most of the cats she looked up to in her youth were long dead, they'd died their glorious deaths hadn't shied from their destinies. Even her apprentice had fallen, the mentor outlived the pupil at the very least she can have pride that he brought the kittypet-king with him.... Her littermates long stopped speaking to her and she'd never been popular even in her apprentice hood and those who once looked on her kindly she's doubtful look at her with little more then disgust or pity... she has nobody - is a nobody. She knows her past, can retrace it and spot every mistake she's made along the way feels every regret, but when she thinks of what's to come she can't muster an idea.

Unconsciously her claws unsheathe digging into the torn flesh of the haunch of meat in front of her. She would miss the simplicities war allowed her; she sparingly had to think of herself, of what she wanted when all that mattered was staying alive and fighting for a cause that was never her own. It was simple - she lives out her days as they come now her thoughts always overrun. She's no longer nameless now, she's back to who she'd always been; Firefang but she hadn't been that cat for many moons.


  • - She's watching the sunrise and camp, open to any kind of interaction!
  • wiki_firefang_1.png
    Firefang She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 18 moons
    Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Kedamono@legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​
 
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"Prey is killed only to be eaten. We are to give thanks to the Stars for its life." His tone was near-ethereal as he drifted closer towards Firefang, still, he was the prince without the crown who carried himself like a God. Sootspot believed it was in the other's best interests that he behaved this way, WindClan's god, Silverpelt itself, was said to be a merciful thing - had he been himself, he'd have wrung the tabby's neck tenfold. Those who'd turned tail after him were not the buffers from his home's ire as he had wished for, and what good was a treacherous cat if it was not valuable? Like a snake crawling from its hibernation spot, Sootspot settled close to Firefang, a smile upon his maw. To an outsider, it was the epitome of friendly, to those who'd gotten to know his better nature, it was pure poison. The she-cat he'd grown up with had always been taller than him, stronger than him, perhaps even more well-liked by his mother than him. He detected weakness in her now, the perfect time for any hunter to strike.

But, the tom's limbs did not coil like a serpent, nor did claws appear from obsidian sheathes. Attacking a defenseless creature was a Moor Runner's game, not his own, if she were to die, it would be believing it was what she deserved. "A marvellous strategy you have, to have a mouth where your claws are." The corner of his maw twitched in self-made amusement, then, one of his paws shifted forwards, as if tempting to take the shredded haunch away from her. He tested for a reaction before he spoke again. "One must wonder if a code presented by a monster is any less of a code now that it's dead... or, if such rulebreaks would allow you to walk the same land she claims to." 'Is that what you want? To see her again?' The question was suggested by his tone even when he didn't say it out loud. Eyes batted innocently after a time - as if it wasn't what he meant, as if the meaning was all in the other's head.

 
AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — With most of those that had turned their backs on Sootstar in the end, Rattleheart knew how to act. Aside from one incident, she had managed thus far to treat Sootspot with a sort of distant respect while trying to ignore his more idiotic moments, acknowledging how flawed his childhood had been. Bluefrost was allowed even more softness, her childhood and willingness to at least make an attempt to change making the lead warrior pretty clearly favor her over her brother - though she would never say as much aloud. The less that Sootspot was allowed to know for sure, the better. Downypaw was allowed even more grace, since it didn't seem as though they had ever had much choice in the matter at all. That much was clear from how they mirrored all that Sootspot had taught them so far. Finally, Cottonpaw was the least of her worries, treated with kindness ever since Wolfsong had taken her under his wing once more. If he could forgive her, then Rattleheart could too.

With Firefang, though? She didn't have the faintest idea of how to treat her fellow Windclanner.

They had never been friends - or even close in any kind of fashion - but Rattleheart had at least known of her presence around the group as a whole. It would've been hard not to, considering her past quarrels with Periwinklebreeze and her general abrasive attitude that had often been brought up during gossip. The tunneler couldn't help but wonder how Firefang was feeling now, with Sootstar not only thrown forcibly from her throne but Periwinklebreeze also promoted to a rank higher than her. Would she be as bitter and petty as Sootspot had a tendency to act about those above him, or would she show a little more grace? Would she try to drag the attention of others to her, or remain content in just fading into the background with Sootstar gone? No one but the moor runner herself could say, least of all a cat like Rattleheart.

Even with all of that in mind, she had been at least been making an effort to try and reach out to what former loyalists were still around. To mixed results, obviously, but Firefang wasn't going to be the one face left out of that crowd. Which was why she approached not long after Sootspot, sparing her fellow tunneler a brief glance and a flick of her tail to acknowledge his presence. She had her doubts about him keeping any sort of peace, but she would at least try when it came to her end of things. "I don't think any of our current leaders plan on protesting that particular part of the code, regardless of who it was proposed by. Though I'm sure we'll hear about it if Smokestar suddenly decides it's an insult to him." She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the mere thought of the Riverclan leader, still feeling less than impressed with the "righteous fury" he had put forward at the gathering.

"How are you feeling, Firefang? I'm glad to see you don't seem too injured." The words were slightly forced from her muzzle, though thankfully weren't absent of her usual warmth and kind tone. Rattleheart wouldn't have actually cared if Firefang had gotten too badly hurt fighting in Sootstar's name - she made her choice, after all - but she could at least pretend she would have.


  • 75034712_8183RsjuzqJmQXv.png
    longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
    49 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
    homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
    sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
    currently mentoring downypaw
    somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
    all opinions are ic
 
➴➴ Gravelsnap doesn’t know what to make of Firefang these days. Once she had been a good friend—close, trusted. Now, what is she? Where does she stand? Where does he? After all, if she asked, he would have forgiven her in a heartbeat—he is the one at fault, the one who turned his back on all those who trusted him. It is Gravelsnap who’s at fault, isn’t it? He wouldn’t blame Firefang if she wanted nothing to do with him any longer. Still, she looks lost as she sits with her meal, obviously not interested in actually eating it. They can’t just ignore her forever, can they? With a sigh, Gravelsnap begins to make their way over to her.

The sound of Sootspot’s voice is grating against their ears, and they are quick to flatten against Gravelsnap’s head in an attempt to block out whatever nonsense the tom has to say. Why couldn’t it have been him who ran off with Granitepelt, instead of Thriftfeather? The black-patched moor runner shakes their head, deciding to ignore the tunneler’s words. All he has to spit is venom; they can merely pretend that they didn’t hear him.

"Firefang," they begin, their tone nearly timid as they approach the she-cat. They don’t know what to say. In the early parts of their warriorhood, they had been just as staunch a supporter of Sootstar as she, and just as willing to shun Peri from the clan. They had even delighted at her side when the now-lead warrior had been punished for standing up to her. The thought of their past actions makes them feel nearly sick to their stomach now, guilt chewing away at them. They wish that they could forget about it all—forget about their cruelty, forget about choosing Peri over any of their friends, forget about their failure as a mentor and a son. Instead, they remember, and they ask dryly, "Did the prey do something to upset you?"
 
"why follow the rules of someone who was killed for being a tyrant?" he questioned under his breath as he came across the group, ears falling back to pin themselves against his skull. at this point, it's hardly an act of annoyance or aggression, it just means he's thinking. he didn't really know that much about sootstar, other than the fact that she was no longer leader. he'd heard the gossip as a kitten, but any time she did the things that she did, his mother had swept him back into the nursery and shielded him and his sibling's eyes from the oncoming drama.

running his tongue over the side of his maw, he looked down at the mangled prey, and scrunched his nose. "yeah, i wouldn't want to eat something that looks like that. you're not putting that in the prey pile, are you?" he asked, keeping quiet in hopes that no one actually heard his judgments. however, that didn't seem to be how the world worked. with everyone asking how firefang was, he kept all of his thoughts to himself. of course people were upset. sootstar had family, friends, people who cared about her. sure, she may have been crazy, but to assume no one would be upset? outlandish.

he didn't bother asking. people had already asked enough without him adding a new question into the mix.

———————---***LIKE A TRAIN ON A TRACK***———————---

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  • lilac / red tabby chimera with low white and green eyes
    6 moons old; ages the 15th every month
    unknown orient. ; currently not looking
    son of npc and npc
    windclan ; loyal to windclan, doesn't understand why sootstar is gone
    slightly difficult to befriend ; not quick to trust these days
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 

An ear swivels and her muzzle crinkles, sharp teeth gritting together as her eyes turn towards Sootspot. Moons ago she envied him for the blood in his veins, craved his approval her behavior towards the children of her leader had always been different to the way she treated her less noble peers. His words rile her sense of ego and the fleeting loyalty she still has. He has her name - but the blood in his veins that was once gold is now turned to dung. She watches him as he tests the waters, tempting the patience of a waiting predator. She’s a spectacle but she would always be dangerous, she wasn’t defanged just demoralized. A beaten dog could still bite.

A growl rises deeply in her throat; it’s a guttural rumble that cautions the Tunneler as his paws grow close to what is hers. Her claws only dig deeper. She was once the taunter, her jeers earning her a reputation but now she’s in the opposite position. She hates it. "If I wanted to walk those lands my claws would be dug into your flesh instead" she growls. “It should’ve been you“ she wants to declare but her ire doesn’t get the chance to bubble out of her again before the sound of more paws approach, owing over their own words and opinions. She stays low and guarded shoulders hunched and her prey being pulled closer to her body.

She looks towards Rattleheart who approaches her with far more kindness and she finds herself distrustful of it. She had always second guessed that trait of others - kindness always had a price if it wasn’t fake all together. It was to be warned not given, like the respect she’s sure she’s long lost. She doesn’t care much for the talk of codes, she’d accepted the ordinances of her true superiors without question. She takes a breath before responding to the toms question, and she’s truthful if anything else "Im fine, pain builds character. Some cats need more of it" she claims offhandedly, her pupils flitting towards Sootspot.

She doesn’t hear Heatherpaw’s remark as he approaches it nothing more then warbled mumbled sound. She passes him a momentary look but her gaze was more pointed on Gravelsnap an old friend she supposes; as few as those were to her. She will never understand why they debased themselves taking a mate like Periwinklebreeze. They’d grown apart, things had changed, they had changed - but had she changed at all? Not to the same extent she figures looking up at them. She should sneer at them, snap and take her frustration out but she doesn’t. There’s a sorrow she feels looking into his gaze, it’s uncomfortable and rests in her chest like a cold. "Hey…" finally she realizes the mess she’s made with his claws. Her mind returning more fully to the present; cognitive enough to feel a flash of shame. Her claws sheathe, blood slickens her fur up her forepaw. It’d been brought up by Sootspot, it was why they were discussing codes at all. She just didn’t realize how much of a mess she was making.


"Foxdung, no I- uh… ugh! I was just lost in thought.” she grumbles "I ain’t puttin’ it in the prey pile, it’s mine so I’ll eat it" she huffs "So get off my tail"

 
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It was surprising that Sootspot and Firefang spoke to each other with thorns on their tongue- given that, in Featherpaw's eyes, there gained very much the same scrutiny. Featherpaw would train his gaze on them diligently, glaring with equal suspicion. If any of them closed in on his father- any one of them, the hackles now split by the scar along her back would raise heavenward.

For now, though... there was this disgusting display. Torn flesh, prey mashed until it bore an unappetising skin. Unsettled by the sight, Feratherpaw's face scrunched up into an even deeper, darker scowl than her resting frown. But under curious interrogation did Firefang insist she was going to eat it, and from where she sat grooming herself Featherpaw shot the warrior a narrowed leer that silently said, you'd better.

Pain builds character, Firefang had said- and all of a sudden the way she was wrecking her meal remided Featherpaw staunchly of Nightmareface, and his frown grew even more severe. Mood soured by external forces, Featherpaw wrinkled up his nose and spat, "Don't leave all that b-buh... b-blood crusting up your paws." It was said like a chastising mentor, in a voice that sounded perfectly adult, bigger than his body. Her white-tipped tail lashed, before she began to storm off, seemingly offended by very little at all.

\ in and out... sorry for him lmfao
✦ penned by pin
 
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