a tide comes rolling in ✘ RiverClanners


Carawaykit is surprisingly light, he wonders if she will ever fill out properly but once a diet of fish was introduced the kitten would surely bulk up a little more. The ease with which he can tote her is not that concerning, but it is where he focuses his thoughts for the time being because thinking of anything else right now on the long trek would shatter him to pieces. At long last SkyClan’s border scent begins to waft in their direction, he can see the familiar shift in territory ahead and he flicks his tail up to signal the following cats to stop as he turns to set the little scrap down, “You did well.” He is not really an affectionate cat but he can tell the kits are all shaken so he takes a moment to make sure they are nudged and accounted for before looking around to the gathered cats present. “Robinpaw, stay with Willowroot to help her.” He glances to his friend before turning to make sure the rest of the clan made it out.
Lichentail had gone right to the medicine cat den and with assistance Ravensong and their ill were able to escape, so many of their warriors bore scars defending one another - even Snakeblink as passive as he was had thrown himself into the conflict to save Ratpaw, cowardly ex-kittypet Pikesplash saving Catfishpaw, Salmonshade guarding Carppaw after that wretched traitor abandoned her...

He would be lying if he did not admit his eyes immediately searched for his kits, uttering an almost whine of a sigh when he spotted the despondent trio and he quickly walked over to check on them with quick nudges of his head and murmurs of relief. They all seemed a little rough, their first taste of combat and it was sorely out of anyone’s league to deal with appropriately.
“Stay together, don’t wander.” It is a warning, he would not be tolerating mischief, not right now. How much of the clan had seen their leader drown in a flood of fur and claws? Had their kits seen it? Would they finally experience the horror that was seeing him rise from the dead, losing himself a little more each time? Smokethroat resists the urge to shudder before looking around at his clanmates, tired and trembling, once again driven from their home, once again attacked while at peace.
Visions of torn black and gray, spotted white fur flash in his head; the impulse to go running back now that the clan was somewhere safe strikes him and he gazes back in the direction of the territory with that lone eye widening, desperation and fear flashing across his expression. No, he couldn't-he crushed his instincts down and swallowed hard; he couldn't lose it right now, he couldn't act out and put the clan in danger of having no guidance at all. Smokethroat once again realized he had to trust that a sloped head would eventually emerge from the treeline behind them. Like he had done the first time after being skewered to the tree, sending his blood into the faces of his horrified clanmates, like he had when he returned with a wire collar from a trap, like he'd done when the river rose up to drag him into its frozen depths...he'd come back. As he always did.

"...is anyone missing?" He asks, lifting his voice - hold it together, his mind warns, don't break. Don't panic. 'Aside from the obvious missing.' his thoughts finish like claws to his heart. Hopefully a SkyClan patrol would be passing through soon.

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[Ooc]
Setting down @carawaykit , addressing @willowroot & @robinpaw. and checking on @STARLIGHTPAW & @CICADAPAW & @BEEPAW. directly.

Please don't doublepost before @BLAZESTAR is able to arrive! Other SkyClanners are welcome to stumble across them first though!
 
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It was impossible to miss it, a swarm of scents, like the sense he got before a thunderstorm. Static sticking to his pelt, forcing it up, up into hackles- it was RiverClan scent, and an overwheming amount of it. What were they doing- bringing a war patrol, at a time like this? A quivering form of patchwork strode forward, his pale-calico apprentice in tow. Aggression and wariness flickered in his eyes, teeth gritted so tight he was near-expecting them to shatter. What were they doing, this many of them- this many! Their deputy at the forefront, carrying- carrying...

A kit...

Twitchbolt's initial paranoia died immediately, replaced with a new, entire heap. Bewildered, he moved toward them, sweeping his sight over the lot of them. "Stars," he uttered, voice wracked with a lot more horror than he had intended. Clearing his throat, he looked toward Doompaw at his side and instructed the apprentice- with no room for argument in his tone of voice- "Get Blazestar, quickly."

No part of him could understand, could rationalise why they were here in the moment. Whirling possibilities sickened him, and his wide gaze wobbled upon the RiverClan deputy for a few long moments. What had happened to their territory? What terrible, awful thing could have possibly descended on them that they had to drag kits all the way out here? Where was Cicadastar!?

"Smokethroat," he yelped the name as if he'd been struck by lightning, a sudden noise. He'd reminded himself he was meant to be talking, probably- meant to say anything. "Why- why are you here?" Where's Cicadastar, where's Cicadastar? If there was something out here that could kill a leader- would there be a Blazestar for Doompaw to find?

\ doompaw fetching blazestar for marq's convenience lol
penned by pin ✧
 
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numbness recedes as he stumbles along, half-blind with tears, crying and helpless. the feeling is a greasy serpent in the pit of his belly, wrapping around his throat and his immobile claws. his head pounds from a headache, his throat is raw with screaming, his shoulder cut is sticky and stinging, and there's a gap in his jaws where a tooth rightfully should be. he looks nothing like a river prince as he wobbles his way to skyclan's border, tears drying on his cheeks, and he doesn't feel it either.

the empty misery seeps away to make space for anger. he remembers the rogues circling his father like carrion birds pinwheeling over crowfood, the wet thumps of their strikes hitting home again and again, protecting cicadastar like a piece of stolen fresh-kill. cicadapaw remembers the helpless hollow in his chest, the numb weight of his limbs, the terrible sinking feeling of powerlessness. he doesn't want to feel that way ever again, that empty ever again, and rage swells to fill the cavity of his chest.

he snaps his jaws taut together until he tastes fresh blood and then he stops, recalling the torn spot of his lost tooth, opting to dig his claws into piney soil. anything, anything to exhale a breath of the visceral want inside of him, the want to hurt something in retribution for cicadastar. it's an irrational thought, he knows, but all he wants is to run back to their camp and sink his teeth into the rogues until he's dipped to his shoulders in their blood. smokethroat pads over, nudging and murmuring and warning them to stay together. eyes wide and spaced-out, he nods blankly, gouts of crimson dancing behind his eyes.

"m'kay," he looses the words between frozen jaws. a stranger, smelling of pine and rain, flanked by an apprentice, is the first to find their weary group. he commands his calico apprentice to go fetch skyclan's leader. the very syllable, star, looses a fresh trickle of blood from the boy's jaws as he clenches his teeth once more. the skyclanner comes to talk to his father and cicadapaw tries to fuzz the sound into nothingness, looking to his sister, always so stable and present and there.

"beepaw," he mews, pressing his thin frame against his sister's thicker curls. his voice is raw and dangerously desperate as he asks, "where's father? how—how is he going to find us here? why didn't pa go back for him?"

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  • talking to @BEEPAW.
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    cicadapaw ; apprentice of riverclan
    x. he/him ; 4 moons ; tags
    x. unsightly black-and-white tom with heterochromatic amber and blue eyes
    x. played by dejavu
    cicadapaw is the wayward son of cicadastar and smokethroat, veritable riverclan royalty who fails to live up to his legacy. veiled in a perpertual miasma of internal conflict and rage, he finds solace in his anger when he can find it nowhere else.

 
It wasn’t too hard to smell the fishy scent wafting into SkyClan’s territory, and Drizzlepelt is quick to act. He doesn’t want to assume the worst, as he doesn’t see any reason why they would attack…their relationship was amicable last time he checked. He’ll find out soon enough anyways, he settles on.

Drizzlepelt is just as surprised as Twitchbolt to see kits above all else. At least it confirmed it wasn’t a raid, but what happened? Was force was strong enough to drive RiverClan out of their home? It seems like the entire clan is on their doorstep, and that’s a worrying sign.

“RiverClan?” He questions lightly, a concerned expression on his face. A lot of them are battered and bruised as well…did they get attacked? His mind instantly lands on WindClan being the cause, but even they must be as starved as the rest of them. What else could it have been?

He’s glad that Twitchbolt sends his apprentice to get Blazestar, as he feels frozen in place. One of Cicadastar’s kids also asks where his father is, and his heart breaks. Did the RiverClan leader lose a life? He must have, if they just left him there. He has lives to spare, while the rest of the clan did not. “Who attacked you?”
 

Tw: vomiting

Getting here is bitter. The whole time he has said nothing and done nothing more than move forward. Each nudge and prod makes him shift direction to where he needs to go but he never says a word. There is nothing to say and he feels the nausea rolling through his gut. Yet he steps forth and keeps his eyes forward, eyes always forward. He doesn't have the want to look anywhere else. He doesn't understand what is happening but he keeps seeing things in his mind. Blood. So much of it. Spilling out, flowing all over the ground. Teeth gnashing, claws slicing. Terrible. Horrible. Though it seems they stop and he stands still. A scent he doesn't know makes him conscious of their surroundings and he lifts his head. This motion makes the world spin. Then it pulls up his food and it just spills from his gut. Burning his throat and the shaking begins. He can't stop it and he keeps shaking. Legs wanting to collapse and he does. Right there. His eyes close and he wants to cry, to do something but nothing else happens.

He can smell his own sick but he can't seem to process anything else but his own shaking. The images in his mind keep him as silent as he normally is and he lays there on the ground near Willowroot. Home, he wants to be home. But it doesn't exist anymore.


  • ooc : — ​

  • bristlekit - tom / 2 moons old / riverclan kit / aspiring warrior

 
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XXXXXDoompaw’s colorful depiction of the RiverClan warriors at their border had sent Blazestar hurrying as fast as possible through the forest. Though his steps are unsteady still, and though the picture he cuts when he arrives and stands beside Twitchbolt and Drizzlepelt is less than magnificent, his blue eyes are wide with shock and sympathy. Their kits are trembling and crying, their warriors bleeding from torn ears, pelts marked red with gashes. Smokethroat himself looks stricken, though the RiverClan deputy stands strong and stoic amidst his Clan. Blazestar’s blue gaze trails from the panting warriors to the crying kittens before it lands solidly back on Smokethroat. “Tell me what happened,” he says, his voice calm as the water running between them.

XXXXXHe can imagine—WindClan is his first guess. His tail sweeps the pine needles behind him. “Smokethroat, where is Cicadastar? Has he…” His gaze gathers shadows, troubled. “Has he sent you?” He begins to take in the sight before him again, realizing they couldn’t have possibly left any of their cats in camp if even the youngest kits had been brought here by their scruffs…

XXXXXNone, that is, but Cicadastar himself.

XXXXXYour kits need shelter and prey, your warriors herbs,” her observes. After listening to RiverClan’s explanation, the Ragdoll will dip his head and say, “We can offer shelter, though as you see, we are struggling too. Drizzlepelt, run ahead to the nursery. Howlfire and Butterflytuft are about to have company.” His voice rings out, authoritative. They all are.



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The image was hard to wash away, wrecking shudders down her spine as she was guided onto Skyclan borders. The blood flow along her face and neck were beginning to slow, allowing her to see for a few moments longer before wicking away the blood with rapid flutters of eyelids. A deep claw mark stretched across her face and down the side of her neck, a length away from a fatal blow to the jugular. It wasn't terrifying to her; if she were to fall on her home's ground and have her single life tugged away from her so easily beside her leader. Although, she was supposed to help be a guide for the clan as a lead warrior. She wasn't going to be an influence to cause Riverclan to wither within a night. Her eyes were heavy and exhaustion wrecked her body as adrenaline had faded and pain settled in, her lungs heaved heavily. A saddened expression laid upon Cicadapaw for a moment as she heard him question amongst his sibling. On sore muscles and damaged skin she gently sat down and helped headcount, it was too painful to speak or make an expression but her brows furrowed at the skyclanner's question. "Rouges." Petalnose spat through bared teeth.

Their home they had just gotten back was grasped from them again. Perhaps a tease from Starclan? It made her feel helpless; as if she couldn't protect her clan. It felt as if she failed her clan.. the bloodied wounds that stretched across her face would serve that reminder for her. It would mock her until the day her last breath was taken. Petalnose sat up however, an attempt to express her strength through her apperant weakness that spilled a bitter taste into her mouth.

Tags
 
( ) her heart hammers in her chest, anxiety worse than she has felt in moons. her eyes are watery, prickling with emotion, her throat burns from holding back the sob that is building. she sets nettlekit down gently next to his brother, gathering her brood of younglings close as she breathes deep, pushes everything back down. smokethroat brings carawaykit over and willowroot will reach out to press her nose to the tomcat's cheek, a silent gesture of support, of love. emerald eyes flick around the scene of despondent riverclanners, scanning for her older children. the undergrowth shivers and the queen feels her hackles raise, a low growl prepared in her throat. from the skyclan side of the border, a face appears, followed quickly by two more. relief floods the smoke woman's senses and she will bend to console her charges, nuzzling each. bristlekit is shaking and the scent of sick fills the air. sympathy and sorrow fill willow's voice. "oh darling," she murmurs, pulling the boy towards her and beginning to clean him up.

when drizzlepelt asks for an explanation, the word croaks from the queen's mouth. "rogues," she mutters in time with petalnose, casting her green gaze up at the tom. blazestar arrives with haste, body frail but eyes wide and kind. he offers shelter, whatever prey he can spare and herbs he has. gratitude has never felt more painful.

// gathering all kits up, brief interaction with @Smokethroat , comforting @BRISTLEKIT ▪︎
 

Cicadapaw asks his sister a question that has his blood freezing in his veins, he knows he should answer the warrior questioning them at the border but his voice will not rise up, he flounders in silence, unsure and fighting to maintain his composure amidst the yowls of pain and panic, the squeals of scared kittens, the slosh of prey being lost as cats recall the horrific sight they had left behind them. It is not until Blazestar arrives that he realizes he had been staring dumbly off into the distance past them for too long.
"We....he..." He starts, stops, mouth opening and closing before he inhales through his nose and holds it. The sound of his own heart beat syncs with the river pulsing past them, the rushing current a storm welling in his chest and in his head; he feels like he's drowning but when he opens his eye and focuses forward once more he is more calm. Willowroot and Petalnose both explain it in a single word, he can still remember the lead's voice gasping incredulously as he made the call to leave Cicadastar behind and its all he can hear in his head now; a resounding repetition of questions pitching higher and higher until they are only a dull ringing 'We're leaving him?!'
"...as they said. Rogues...there were so many of them, five for every member we had, they rushed in like water and overtook us-flooding our camp with bodies. There were too many, they swarmed Cicadastar, they-" Orange eye blinks once, twice, he realizes the guilt gnawing his insides is bubbling up to the surface, "...I had to get the clan out..." He finishes, tone losing its intensity; the ferocity he was most known for fading in the echo of the churning waters.
Thankfully, Blazestar takes control-gives his orders, offers sanctuary without it being asked of him and for once he finds he is grateful for the softness that SkyClan is so often persecutred for, for once he does not see the kittypet king as weak for his apathy - maybe it was selfish to only see it now when it benefited them, but it is not something he will ever forget.
"...thank you. Any ablebodied cats, help get the kits, queens and elders up and moving. Follow SkyClan." The dark tom lingers briefly in place, gaze darting back to the depths of the forest they are leaving, to the island of their campsite, to his mate crumpled and bloodied upon pebbled shores.
 
Drizzlepelt’s expression dampers even further as both Petalnose and Willowroot explain that it was rogues that have led them here now. He never expected for them to get as strong as they have now…much less coalesce together in a shared interest. His gaze returns back to the kits; how dare they get so bold as to drive off such young lives as well?

He gives the other clan a steely gaze as a sense of justice fills his being. Even if they aren’t about to go and fight off the rogues, he’s determined to make sure RiverClan’s weaker cats do not suffer any more. “You did the right thing,” he reassures Smokethroat after his own explanation of events. He just hopes that Cicadastar will come back for his mate…he can’t lose the rest of his lives now.

Drizzlepelt nods as Blazestar asks for him to run ahead and tell the queens that they will be sharing their space. There’s no doubt in his mind that they’ll be understanding, but hopefully there’s no initial tension. “Of course. Those helping the queens, follow behind me, and let me talk to ours first. I’ll signal to you when you can enter.” He starts heading towards the nursery, trying to keep himself together despite everything.

// OOC : Out!
 
THE HERMIT ─── They...weren't home. The earth beneath his paws felt different, the scents that drifted up his nose were itching and uncomfortable, and the babbling sound of the river was now but an echo. His clan and he were now detached from the very thing that defined their title as Riverclan. For the rare instances, Rookfang felt a sense of absolute failure and defeat as he followed along with his retreating clanmates, every cell in his body retreating to his childhood memories of nomad life and no place to truly call his own until he was adopted into Riverclan's group. The ruffled large figure hung at the end of the group, ensuring no one would be straying behind without him noticing especially with the youth that they carried as he crossed into the territory of Skyclan as they sought solace in the group of previously owned kittypets. He wasn't sure if they could be fully trusted but if this was the choice Smokethroat believed was best, he couldn't doubt him at this time of mindless scramble.

Yet, his mind was trapped in the figure of Cicadastar, being swallowed and engulfed by the flood of rogues that had decided to infiltrate their home and push them out. His breath was quiet yet quick, trying to still the flashes of his suppressed memories of the familiar sensation of coming home to a shattered home of blood and scrambled claw marks and the stench of death wafting in. Rookfang's throat screamed as he coughed suddenly at choking in his own quick breaths as he halted behind the others and listened silently to Smokethroat, Willowroot, and Petalnose explain their demise of being chased out of their home and his half-lidded gaze fluttered down to his aching paws, blood and dirt mixing yet that wasn't what disturbed him. What disturbed him was the idea that they had lost. With already the hellish conflicts they were going through, they had to be trapped. It felt like a never-ending nightmare that kept cycling itself. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to collect himself and not let his emotions bubble, there was no time for childish reactions and implosions of self-destructiveness. What needed to be focused on was ensuring everyone was well and present, and that the youth and elderly were given the chance to find some form of peace at this time.

Rookfang's ears remained pinned against his skull as he followed the given orders, his face placid and retained but there was a glooming shadow that laced the yellow glow of his already murky eyes. Hatred-fueled revenge.​
 

He remains where Willowroot had dropped him, close by her own large paws. Nettlekit hadn't seen Cicadastar die, but he had heard it. Gruesome, cruel, and it seemed his brother was faring far worse than the blind child was. The sound of Bristlekit's distress, the smell of it... Nettlekit bristles as he's nearly overwhelmed by all the chaos once more, as if it were an ocean wave come to sweep him back out to sea. Staring sightlessly, he does his best to distract himself, pressed against Willowroot as he is. There are new smells. New voices. This was SkyClan. He should be excited, right?

Nettlekit only feels a cold and grim despair, however. This was not home.

  • ooc : — ​


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    nettlekit . nettlepaw . nettle?

    — kit of riverclan
    — tom, he/him; unknown sexuality
    — two moons; ages realistically
    — born blind in both eyes
    npc x npc, sibling to bristlekit
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    large in size, his paws are, perhaps, a bit too big for his sleek form. creamy fur coats his frame, marred by muddy hued stripes and milky eyes of leafy green. white splashes the tip of his tail, and each paw seems dipped in cotton.
    ↳ lynx mink with low white & green eyes
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    ( + ) intelligent, determined ( / ) ambitious ( - ) callous, manipulative
    — will start fights | will end fights | will flee | will not show mercy
    — peaceful powerplay permitted
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Blue and green eyes scanned the crowd of faces with bitter uncertainty. News of RiverClan's arrival on their borders had spread like wildfire, until he had spotted young and old within their ranks, he hadn't been sure if it was a desperate raid or some meager retaliation for SkyClan's apathy all them moons ago. The truth quickly unraveled itself though, RiverClan had been exiled from their own home by the rogues that seemed to plague them all. A hollow feeling hit the silver tom, the same could've happened to them had the rogues been less liberal in who they attacked. Black claws sunk into the mulch, he could not picture a stranger's hide beneath him anymore, rather, a piece of prey that had just slipped from his grasp. StarClan, what was going on? Tufted ears flicked, expecting sympathies to be offered to RiverClan, perhaps herbs and prey, but his leader's next words came with a sinking feeling. Sanctuary, for who knows how many moons until their neighbours had found the strength to regain their home. He thought of their ill and starving and let out a sharp breath between his teeth, pained by the idea of SkyClan struggling even more.

"Blazestar," he mewed cautiously, refusing to meet the RiverClan kits' eyes. Their lives were important, but he had to consider SkyClan's kits first, who had not known peace since hunger and sickness had infested their home. Ears flattened as he thought of the knowingly unpopular, finding it harder than usual to bring forth the words that had caused outcry. It would not be the right decision, but it would be the best decision, at least for their fractured home. "We cannot support ourselves, let alone twice our numbers. Grant them safe passage to the Twolegplace if you must, but... this isn't sustainable." He had not eaten in days, dozens were similar to the tight-bellied tom, and the bleeding hearts of his clanmates seemed immune to finding wrong in making their own suffering worse to save another. It was a far cry from the Silversmoke who had been adamant about fighting in RiverClan's defense, who had found friendship with another Lead Warrior, but allyship to another only stretched so far in the mind of the male, and both clans had once seemed too proud to let that boundary be crossed. He swished his tail, refusing to budge until he found agreement or admonishment.

 

the journey to wherever they were going was much longer than she could have anticipated, carawaykit was beyond thankful she didn't have to make it on unsteady legs. perhaps she may have even been tempted to drift off, but as soon as they were outside of camp and things had grown quieter she willed herself to peel open her eyes. she had never been this far out, this deep into the territory. it was beautiful, a bit scary due to the largeness, she wished she could have seen it for the first time under different circumstances.

finally, they stop and she is placed down. the silver kit gives a weak smile to smokethroat's praises, but she still shakes softly where she stands. as soon as the deputy moves to speak to his children, she is off scrambling to willowroot's side, firmly planting herself at her mother's paws. there are strange cats appearing, they smelled nothing of riverclan but there was no hostility towards them. carawaykit didn't pay much mind, though. bristlekit seemed awfully shaken by the ordeal, her heart hurt for her denmate. "bristlekit, we're okay now," she spoke softly in a wavering voice, green eyes swimming with concern as she moved to place her tail around him in support.

she turned to a large silvery skyclanner as he spoke, ears shooting up in alarm. what was a twolegplace? she thought twolegs were bad, so why did he want them to go there? turning her gaze to willowroot, her brows lowered in concern. "what is that?"

  • talking to @BRISTLEKIT ▪︎ and @willowroot


  • CARAWAYKIT she/her, kit of riverclan, three moons
    carawaykit is a pretty longhaired silver tabby kitten with green eyes and a lithe frame. born into riverclan, she loves her home and has a deep fascination with becoming a warrior to provide for it. a highly spirited and adventurous kitten, she enjoys playing games and pushing boundaries.
    willowroot x poppysplash ↛ sister to bumblekit, tidekit, mosspaw, hazepaw, antlerpaw, and buckpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    penned by vayle@vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
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Pale eyes sift between the huddled masses, shaking figures hardly wider than their bones rattled in their uncertainties. Fear itself could drown out their piscine scent, the way it clung to them like a heavy mist, dampening their spirits in shared anxious glances. Smokethroat stood there... so rigid that you could knock him over with a well-aimed breath- he searched for something constantly, eye wandering to send out a lonely call back; a begging thing, that single golden light in the distance, eagerly awaiting twin blue signals that said 'all is well.'

It would not return that signal, the line had gone cold...

Lingering by Ravensong with a hovering stance that practically wrapped around him, the lead wished they could stop feeling the phantom pressure of paws against her back, of claws ripping delicately past her eye-- a visceral shudder came with every haunting memory, making the blue point appear shaky and flighty.

What further torment could StarClan afford to put them through before they simply... didn't survive? How cruel were they then... to sit up there and watch after coaxing their best warriors to some far away neverland.

Petalnose and Willowroot's hallowed voice murmur of their defeat, a sickening repetition to be happening again so soon. Their deputy stumbles through what he does say, hardly here as his paws fly across the landscape in his mind's eye... eager to jump into the monochrome swathe of red-stained curls... Anything to make it back to Cicadastar, anything for a sign that he might be coming for them.

If only he were more than just a cat with nine lives to regret in... nine lives to fail with... nine lives to crawl through with teeth grit and claws ground into the dirt, struggling towards the purpose laid at his feet. You are to serve. You are to suffer. You are to die. Repeat. How many times had he endured such mind-numbing torture for their sakes?

"Do you need a break," they ask the fever-blind medicine cat in a careful voice, worry his paws might fall out from under him at any moment. Would Blazestar continue such generous mercy, knowing they had their own sick to bare in mind? The silvery tom that lingered at his side seemed less than eager to relinquish their resources, not that she could find blame in that. "Coyotecreek? Everyone alright?" A quick glance to check on their last few members.. Truly it must have been a worthwhile sacrifice if everyone had made it out...

Everyone... else.



--- interacting with @RAVENSONG and @coyotecreek .. tagging sick for visibility @MUDPELT @Steepsnout @Stalkingpaw. @/fallinglight (?)​
 
Wounded he was just like his fellow warriors. He was able to aid Hazepaw and was happy that he didn't fail them, but... We lost. It stings to know that their beautiful home was now claimed by the rogues. Even if they rested up and repaid Skyclan for their help, he didn't think they would manage to win the second time. Heck, they don't even have their leader. All they have is Smokethroat and lead warriors to guide them. It was hard enough to catch up with everyone, exhaustion was no joke and it didn't help that he was very much wounded. Try as he may, he couldn't become Riverclan's finest fighter and that much was evident. He probably looked the most banged up from Riverclan, but then again you couldn't really compare all of them with how battered they all were. In short, they were all quite miserable looking. He is simply relieved that Lichentail, Ravensong, Snakeblink, and Petalnose were alright. He didn't know what to do if any of them died in battle.

Slowly he moves beside Lichentail, offering her a tired smile and glance. All he can do is listen and await judgement. Everything is out of his paws, but he hopes that all of them could rest. Frankly he doesn't care if Blazestar dumps them in the twoleg place or somewhere horrible. As long as we're together and have a place to rest. Maybe that's horrid of him not to wish that Blazestar would take them in and provide them shelter. A nicked ear flicks at Silversmoke's words and he can't be offended by such concerns. After all, they were intruding on Skyclan's home. He's certain if Skyclan needed shelter, Riverclan would find themselves having the same concerns. All he knows is this. When I'm okay I'll work hard for Skyclan. That's the least I can do.

No words are given when he strays away from Lichentail and towards Carawaykit. Maybe he shouldn't have approached with how ragged he looked. Nevertheless, he gives the kit a smile. He had caught the kit's question and answers with a cough "Think of the twolegplace like a clan of twolegs. Don't worry Carawaykit, we'll make sure nothing happens to you or the other kits. No matter what happens we'll be okay together."

// interacting with @carawaykit
 
The SkyClan border was not where Ratpaw wanted to go, she had wanted to stay and fight even if she was horrible at it. As far as she knew, SkyClan had no fish, rivers, or nests filled with flowers of good luck to bury her nose into when she was overwhelmed, the thought of all her work gathering peonies to circle the medicine cat's den to help them get better being all for nothing caused her stomach to twist and knot, and she found herself glancing over at Lichentail and Ravensong for just a moment before eyes quickly found themselves staring down at her paws in dismay, ears pinning to her head before they pricked up once more, listening to the words that were spoke among Smokethroat and Blazestar.

They would be allowed to stay. She should feel happy right now, glad they would not go without shelter, but the thought of being suffocated under the trees made her wish they could just hide somewhere else in their own territory. She'd never say it out loud, however, that she would rather be a coward amongst the reeds, running every time a rogue was seen to go hide once more than to stay within any territory other than their own.

She caught the words of Silversmoke and ears flicked once in slight annoyance, the thought of a cat questioning their own leader's words causing confusion to course through the white apprentice's brain. Saying nothing as she usually did among the borders, Ratpaw found herself moving over to the trio of black and white apprentices and attempted to press against Beepaw's other side, so that she was in between herself and Cicadapaw, and she found herself looking towards the two and giving them a quiet look. We'll get Cicadstar back, things will be fine. She could only hope they understood the reassuring look upon her face, things would be fine. They had to be.
  • rat_colored.png
    ratkit - ratpaw - rat???
    ⋆ female - she/her - 5 moons
    ⋆ homosexual - too young for relationship
    ⋆ apprentice of riverclan
    attack - speech - thought
    ⋆ penned by tikki
 
He would not let himself be evicted from his home like some disgraced tick. Piles of precious herbs lay in their shallow holes within his den. And who knows what uncivilized cats would do to them? He is less focused on the pride of the Clan than he is for the comfort of his home and the library of herbs he had so carefully gathered and organized for months.

He is not a pleasant travel companion alongside Lichentail, Coyotecreek, and the other sick cats. He raves under his breath in mumbles that cannot be made head or tail out of.

"I don't know wh-why you're cross with me!" He hissed again at Lichentail, even after the lead warrior kindness in tolerating him thus far, extending the olive branch of care. She wavers in his fever-blind sight and he remembers their quick spat during the invasion. It is true the scrawny medicine cat is swaying on his paws. He takes one look at the SkyClan cats and suddenly his knees buckle and he collapses, his throat wheezing in raspy coughs.

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    RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
    LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.

    born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.

    secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
    openly suffers from chronic migraines
    single, but "it's complicated"
 
₊· ͟͟͞͞➳˚ "Stay together, don't wander."

The order from Smokethroat would be heeded, Beepaw had no plans of leaving what's potentially left of her family and the thought itself makes her ears press further onto her skull. She sniffles quietly already having hastily wiped the tears from her eyes and listened to the adults speak to one another before hearing Cicadapaw speak. The feeling of his more thin frame pressed against her own grounds her and she pushes her muzzle into his chest not wanting to do anything but disappear and wish it was all some kind of bad dream. "Cada..." She mumbles in response closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath and her heart aches at what he ends up asking next. How would Cicadastar find them? Her thoughts dwelling in the darker parts of her mind... If he had lived.

She does not know how many lives the king of the river had left and Beepaw didn't want to think about a life without her other father, it hurt to even ponder such a thought. Her eyes stinging and the smoke molly manages to utter with a sad smile "We're allies with Skyclan... He'll know where to find us..." Her voice soft and low enough for him to hear, she wraps her bottlebrush tail around him before feeling the presence of another cat at her other side thinking it was Starlightpaw... But it was Ratpaw. Her bicolored gaze focusing on the moon kissed molly only to offer her a sad, ghost of a toothy smile and puts a snowy paw onto her friends. The river princess feels defeated.

/ interacting with @CICADAPAW and @Ratpaw

  • beekit_chibi.png
    ❥ 4 moons old
    ❥ riverclan apprentice
    ❥ sexuality unknown; single
    ❥ daughter of cicadastar and smokethroat
    ❥ sister of cicadapaw & starlightpaw
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    ❥ easy; still learning how to fight
    ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
 
Bumblekit's tiny mind had endured more than any young cat should ever experience. The harrowing escape from RiverClan taking its toll, and her trembling paws and weary legs reflected the ordeal. The exhaustion weighed on her, like the rocks in riverbeds, and her ears defended from the roaring of blood.

The vivid and gruesome memories of the attack still haunted her mind. Cicadastar's sounds dying and the sight of gore continued to replay before her eyes, leaving the she-kit deeply shaken. Longing for the safety and warmth of her family was overwhelming, yet she couldn't allow herself to relax or drift into slumber, knowing that even in the nursery, there were dangers.

In her state of shock and exhaustion, Bumblekit remained seated, body sagging with fatigue. Her mother's nuzzles and the comforting presence of Smokethroat were appreciated, but they couldn't fully alleviate the fear and confusion that gripped her.

Her world had turned upside down, and Bumblekit was a helpless observer in a chaotic and terrifying reality. For now, she remained silent and still, processing the traumatic events that had befallen her and her clan. Unaware of the sick near her or the conversations ongoing around her thin frame.