sensitive topics all that blood was never once beautiful ☾ aftermath

The next patrol to wander by this secluded grove will be the ones to find her—or, rather, find them. Arranged in a paragon of tragedy, blood soaking into snowy earth, coating fur lilac, gold, and black.

Harrierstripe, sprawled on the earth where she had left him, life painting ribbons across the pine floor, brutal hole ripped through his gut. Sootstar's least child, blood of vengance still gleaming on his claws, his parents' message brought from beyond the grave.

Blazestar, a great mound of sunlight splattered red, blood puddled and steaming around his shredded neck. The great leader of SkyClan, founder of the Clan that scuttles through the trees like birds, reduced to this. A pile of flesh and bones drained of blood, final life ripped from his body in the name of vengeance.

His mate, his lead warrior, slumped against his crumpled body. Face a mess of shredded flesh and burning blood, eye torn to a ruin, ears ripped away—and the last shred of her kittypet life gone with them, lost into the snow that mists with red. The only one with flanks that still rise—but barely, barely, black and brown fur caught between her claws and Harrierstripe's blood drying on her fangs.

// sorry for short starter! but -- TL;DR, Blazestar has been killed by Harrierstripe, who maimed Bobbie before promptly being killed by her. She is alive and barely conscious but with serious facial injuries (torn ears, no left eye. L.)


"speech"

 
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For once, his anxiety is well earned. What was just a standard patrol quickly turns into something much, much worse. Drizzlepelt is in shock at the sudden change in his world- what the hell is he even looking at? The viscera is beyond his comprehension. When it does hit him however, it hits hard. Blazestar is dead? He’s dead. One of those fox-hearted WindClanners took his life! After seeing his own corpse torn apart though, it’s clear what was done. It sickens him how happy he is to see Harrierstripe’s corpse mangled, but right now he doesn’t care. Blazestar is dead.

The tears start falling down his face before he even notices, and he wails in equal parts frustration and deep seated sadness. What is going to happen now? He knew Blazestar’s life would be over soon, but not like this. Never like this…! And poor Bobbie…what could he ever do to comfort her? Their love was so profound, only to be torn away at the worst possible moment… “Bobbie… I’m so sorry…” his voice is barely above a hushed whisper, not knowing if it will be taken well. He just stares, staying away while he copes with the new knowledge that his life will never be the same. SkyClan will never be the same.​
 

And it had all been alright, just a moment ago.

Twitchbolt had smelled blood in the air, and as ever- that scent, that metallic tang, it did nothing but flare his fur into brambles and send him tunning. Breaking from his patrol, like a hound he barrelled toward the sight- not considering that it would be even more horrible than the last time, and the last time, and the last time. When he leapt from a treetop, what he first saw was Bobbie- his eyes shot wide, plainly horrified, at the flesh carved and cleaving her face, the nick in her ear- the blood everywhere, haloing her mouth and sizzling from her maw like rabid foam.

It was the stranger he saw next, torn and dead upon the ground. A Windclanner, from the stench- and all the way out here?- and he was sick, he was sicker, even before wide, amber-specked eyes befell the worst sight of all.

He'd seen Blazestar die before. Backed over by a monster, right in front of him- he remembered the paranoia that had gripped him. And it was always haunting, always eerily motionless, but- had his blood ever dried that much? Had the scent of life ever been so stale? "Bobbie," he choked out, looking at her again, face rended and chewed and- he neared her, dared to, but his eyes couldn't stop flickering back to Blazestar. To Blazestar, not a body. To him, a mending soul, because- because there were still more, weren't there? He'd not been keeping count. It could not be time yet. It seemed wrong. There had been no warning, no time to say goodbye, to say- to say thank you...

"When- how long has he, wh..." and his voice hitched. Twitchbolt was dizzy, dizzied, not sure what to do or where to go. There was nothing for starless paws like his to do anyway, fumbling, nothing- nothing...

He could walk to Bobbie's side, at least. He wobbled over there- she was hurt, with no lives to mend her wounds- so he could give her a shoulder, couldn't he? And that would be enough until her mate rose up again, because he had to, SkyClan's great, blazing sun.

"How- he'll be up, won't he? It's- it's eight, isn't it? So- it's eight. He'll... how long's he been..." And it was breathless, but he was sure it was eight. Sure as a cautious, frightful cat could be. Don't let this be it. But it had been too long. It had already been too long.

And maybe, for once, it was not paranoia. Fear stemmed from somewhere, and it was a world where what he knew- what he'd known since kithood- was gone.
penned by pin ✧
 
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    orangeblossom | tags
    — she/her ; deputy of skyclan. mentoring springpaw.
    — scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes.
    "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by waluigipinball
    — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
    4d5460.png
It's the scent of blood that pulls her close to the scene, heart sinking further with every step. Had the rogues returned? She swears they'd been so careful about chasing them from their borders; Orangeblossom's claws still ache with the sensation of traversing the snow to make sure they're gone for good. Drizzlepelt's meow reaches her, and then Twitchbolt's, and her steps quicken.

The sight before her takes a moment to decipher. A tangle of limbs, scattered fur among the snow. The faintest, stale reek of WindClan clinging to its warrior lying dead in the snow. Orangeblossom doesn't find it within herself to care about that right now. There's red, so much red ...

"It was nine." She says to Twitchbolt. Her meow is rough, quiet. Her eyes still haven't left Blazestar even as she shakes her head blurring periodically as she blinks against unshed tears. No use keeping it a secret now. "The fox took two of his lives."

StarClan has given me these lives to protect my Clan, and I will do everything in my power to do so. Orangeblossom sucks in a breath, the leader's voice ringing in her ears. It's shallow, weak, barely enough. A second follows, and this time it's accompanied by a fine tremble running the length of her form. Brown eyes finally break from Blazestar's corpse, darting skywards - Did you bring him home, Morningpaw?

Orangeblossom swallows against the lump in her throat, failing to quell it. She focuses on now, as she always does, as if Blazestar was back at camp and this was any other Clanmate who had been mauled. SkyClan's deputy, dutiful as always. Bobbie is still alive. She can see the faint rise and fall of the queen's flank from the corner of her eye. Could she walk?

"Bring them back to camp." She orders weakly. "The mange can stay here for now."

 
STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME

the scent of his mother's blood was becoming way too familiar. he hates it. he hates the smell of blood more than he hates anything, and he doesn't hate anything but himself. maybe if he was strong enough to go with her, then she would be okay. he wanted to protect his mama like she protected all her kits but how could he? he's not strong like her. he's not strong like blazestar was, and like how orangeblossom is. he's tired all the time. he sleeps whenever he's alone for more than five minutes, and even then he's freaking out about being alone. he hates being alone. she can't leave him. he's not ready for her to leave. she can't leave again.

"m...mama?"

the young tom's voice is hardly above a whisper. he can't think about anything but the sight of her bleeding. why is she always bleeding? why is she always hurt? what did she do to deserve this? she was so kind, and sweet to everyone! this wasn't fair! it just wasn't fair!

"mama wake up! please wake up! wh-why isn't she waking up? dd-do something please! she can't leave me! she can't leave again! mama, please wake up! i-i promise I'll get stronger! y-yeah! i-i can fix it! i can protect you when you wake up, okay?!"

she's alive, he knows. but rationality knows no place when it comes to a kit to his mother. he doesn't even want anyone touching her right now. a growl leaves him and he rushes closer to try and help her up. he's not strong enough. he can't get her back to camp by himself. why wasn't he strong enough?

"d-dont touch her! i can do it myself!"

he can't and he knows it. useless!

 
It was just a normal day, like any other, and as a matter of fact, Dogbite was in a wonderful mood. Having spent most of the day with Applebite always put the scraggly warrior in high spirits. Once he was brought on with Orangeblossom's patrol, he felt even lighter, getting to share it with close friends. Later, he planned to have a nice squirrel and maybe spend some time with his student. However, today wasn't a good day; unbeknownst to him, it would be one of the worst waking days of his entire life.

Trotting beside the deputy, his mind wandered over the trees as his breath came in foggy exhales. Then the sharp tange of copper and rogue mixed like a sickening poultice. His nose crinkled, and his eye widened with alarm. Silently and steadily, he kept pace as the patrol rushed ahead. Heart thrumming to life, eager to finish off any that dared try to test Skyclan once more. Yet when his blue gaze fell upon the slumped bodies and the defeated frame of Bobbie, his heart stopped. There was no mistaking what took place but the mollies broken face beside a mountain of pale fur echoed in his visual mind with a haunting melody.

There were no words, let alone thoughts, willing to come to light. His body fell into a slow numbness as he recognized the unfathomable state of his friends stained in crimson. Blazestar can still get up, right? His head turned to Twitchbolt, heart thrumming as a twinge of hope danced in his chest. Then just as quickly, it was strangled out by Orangeblossom's rough tone. Her gentle pain was enough to shatter what remained of the warrior's fragile heart. Saltiness tickled the ends of his tufted cheeks and twisted whiskers. Tears rolled as his empty socket contorted with grief. No. No. Please. PLEASE! Shutting his eye for a moment the ache welled forth like a crashing tidal wave ready to swallow him whole.

Huffs and choked sounds pulled from their throat as he nodded solemnly. If Dogbite talked, they would simply fall apart at the seams. The tom who had opened his eyes to the community of clan life and showed him love akin to a father was gone. A she-cat wreathed in fiery passion and who taught him to stand up for those in need, brutalized. Just at the helm of another chance at parenthood. His limbs shook as though the faint wind would carry him away and the tabby shrunk like a kit lost without a way home. Not too long ago they were sharing laughter and tongues and all he could smell was the sick of death. The scarred feline hardly registered the piece of two-leg waste laid out on the forest floor for he could only stare with disbelief at the corpse of Blazestar.

Stepping forward, he looked back at Orangeblossom, a silent question of - can I carry him? The trail continued to flow freely from their one eye as hiccups muffled any sound that dared escape. He wanted to do so much more than haul the dead body of his leader, of his clanmate, of his first friend within these trees they'd come to hold dear. To whisk the pain away from every cat standing around him, but Dogbite could barely keep himself upright, let alone offer comfort. This was a task he could do, his last duty to someone he'd grown to love dearly. Drowsypaw's cry nearly staggers him and it's all too much.

Falling back onto their hindquarters he slumps in defeat beside the ragdolls body. He doesn't have the heart to pull the child away from their injured mother not like he had when Edenpaw lost their mentor. They didn't care if his shaking shoulders were seen as weak or pitiable. He didn't care if it was the 'will of Starclan' all they wished was that today had never existed to begin with. They just wanted to carry the body of a cat who deserved an end far more honorable than this.

  • //please forgive all the edits I'm on mobile
  • ———✧———​
    ✧ LH cinnamon tabby w/high white one blue eye
    ✧ child of npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
    ✧ skyclan warrior ; ex-loner ; mentor to littlepaw
    ✧ 31 moons old ; birthday 07/01 ; ages realistically
    ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
    ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
    "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
    ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
    ✧ penned by tasmagoric
    ———✧———​
 
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Should he be used to this by now? Blood-scent amidst a patrol, a horrific discovery at the end of its trail. It is not the first of its kind, but shift from normalcy to tragedy still shakes the young lead every time.

Another typical patrol is marred with alarm at the sudden copper tinge in the air, and just like his patrol mates, it pulls him forward in its unease. Greeneyes doesn't know what to expect, though remembers what he's found at the end of these before — returning friends, injured newcomers, traces of rogue. He prepares himself for what he knows, but nothing could ever prepare him for what he approaches.

He's seen death before, seen crimson spilled upon blankets of white — he watched his brother die, watched Little Wolf die. But there's so much blood before him, and Greeneyes can't tell the forms apart at first. He can't tell golden from brown, from lilac in the mess before him until he steps closer, until he sees where points of flame he's known all his life, seen dashes of white he'd been promoted alongside.

" Blazestar — Bobbie! " he croaks out a shout, cracked and breaking, his heart sinking. Blazestar doesn't move. The cat beside them doesn't move. Bobbie's sides rise and fall, but her face — Stars, her face. " Someone... Someone get Dawnglare! " He cries out, tears pooling in his eyes for his leader and his mate, for their children, his friends.

He feels the numbing cold of the mountains at his paws, a chill that rises through him and leaves his lungs begging for air as he steps closer. Blazestar will be back, he reminds himself somewhere in between rushing thoughts. He always comes back, he's got lives to spare.

Twitchbolt even says it himself — Greeneyes catches it beneath the ringing in his ears, and he feels himself nodding in response. Blazestar will come back, they just have to wait, they just have to get Dawnglare, Bobbie needs the help too and —

" It was nine. "

Orangeblossom's voice is quiet, but her words feel all too loud. Too sudden, too... too unreal. " No — Are... Are you sure? " This isn't real. It can't be... It can't... right? Maybe she miscounted, maybe Blazestar's just taking his time up in the stars. He'll come back, he'll —

It's different this time. It feels different this time, no matter how much he wants to will it to be otherwise. Greeneyes can feel it's difference, can see it before him. Too much time has gone by. Too much blood lays before him.

Blazestar isn't coming back. And... And Bobbie will fade away with him, if they aren't quick.

He wants to cry. He feels like nothing but a scared kit again, but knows he must be otherwise, knows he must be stronger and be the lead warrior Blazestar chose him to be. With a straightened posture, stinging verdant eyes look to Twitchbolt, to Drizzlepelt and to the rest of their patrol, before mountain-cold paws step forward to aid in Blazestar's final homecoming. ​
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  • 74596946_rY2pLJ2YZGmQ0CI.png
    GREENKITGREENPAWGREENEYES
    ── Lead 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
 
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STATUES AND EMPIRES✧°.☀ ————————————
Falconpaw was afraid of death.

At least, he was afraid of the death of those he loved. The ones who made the clan that had eventually begun to welcome him and his siblings, the ones who made it worth staying instead of fleeing to his father. To a point, that was what Falconpaw had been wondering about most lately- would Vermillionsun welcome him home? Or would he be chastised, sent back to the clan who found comfort in the boughs of tall trees? Regardless, death made him fearful. He could not bear to lose those close to him, or to head towards it again.

Blood sung in the air as Falconpaw moved after Greeneyes, ever dependable to be on the heels of his mentor. Whiskers quivered as he drew upon the scene. He, unlike his mentor, could not recognize what he was supposed to be prepared for. He didn’t want to have to prepare for them, for the cruel world he was slowly learning existed beyond the warm barriers of camp and the medicine den. Where death was cold and welcome, the world was on fire, full of harsh realizations and things he couldn’t run from.

Like this. Like the pile of fur in the clearing, blood covering figures. Two flanks did not move- one did. Falconpaw stopped at the edge of the clearing, blue eyes staring at the flank that did not move. One that couldn’t… one that should be moving. Greeneyes calls their names, and for a moment, his heart stops. Blazestar. The face that had been one of the first he remembered beyond the sewer cats- one that he had always depended on. One that had been first to welcome him back from the throes of death, one that can’t be dead.

Tears find his face- just as so many others standing around the scene, and his body quivered, head dipping down at Drowsypaw starts to shriek and cry. Just as Dogbite stared at Orangeblossom, who confirms everyone’s worst fears. His teeth grit, a sob racking from his agile frame. Falconpaw did the only thing he could thing to do, his body moving on it’s own, paws pressed against frozen ground that would be hell to dig in order to give the dead their rites. The only one that mattered, anyways.

His pelt pressed against Greeneyes’s before he moved, face turning in to press against his mentor’s flank, before he moved towards Drowsypaw. His words came through a roughened throat, his voice hoarse and body trembling. "She’s alive. Her flank is still moving." Falconpaw managed. His words would not pamper or sweeten, his voice inflicted with the pain that had begun to settle in his body and heart. Only one thing was permanent in the end- death. Bobbie still had a chance, and that was something he could fight for.

"We need to get her to Dawnglare. Please, Drowsypaw." He swallowed thickly, trying to reason with the apprentice. Tears slid down his cheeks, ones he couldn’t contain. "Can I help you? Promise I’ll help." Falconpaw did not wait for allowance. He did not wait for permittance. His voice lifted, carrying to the lead warriors, to the deputy- "I’m getting Bobbie up and back. Help, please, amigos." He was not ordering, or demanding. Falconpaw was begging, because Bobbie had to live. She had to.

This was all he could do- save those still alive.


"SPEECH"
[penned by dallas - ]
———————————— ☀.°✧ ALL AT YOUR PAWS
 
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❀‿ Lupinepaw had only been on this patrol as a result of her cowardice. She'd volunteered as an excuse to avoid battle practice, as she did more often than she would like to admit, but the scene they beheld was not something she wished anyone to have seen

It would almost be laughable, if the scene wasn't so horrific. The last time she had spoken to Bobbie she snapped, spitting out all of her worries onto her. 'My mouse-brained mate is going to get himself killed,' she'd said, the paw-wringing anxieties of a pregnant mate. Though, perhaps she'd known that something was coming, a love-tied sixth sense or something rather that Lupinepaw nor anyone else could understand. Or perhaps it was a simple coincidence. Either way, Bobbie was right. She wished she wasn't.

Blazestar was still and bloody in the frost-dusted needle floor, much like he had been many times before (eight other times, to be exact, but it wasn't as if she'd been there for all of them). He had told her that he wouldn't hurt Bobbie. He didn't know that he was lying. That's alright.

It seemed nice up there, Blazestar. I hope you're okay. She felt cold, detached from her body as if she was a ghost herself. Would he hear her? Did it matter?

Suddenly Drowsypaw is screaming. Lupinepaw feels oddly calm, despite the tears streaming down her face. Her paws were still cold and her stomach turned but everything else felt frozen in place. Her brother's storm of emotions drew hers closer into her chest. "Drowsy, stop crying. She's going to be okay," her voice was oddly mechanical even through her tears. Bobbie was going to be okay, because she had to, and because she was breathing and the others... were not and therefore she would continue to do so. Falconpaw is helping him, and perhaps later she will be grateful, but for now, she simply acknowledges that it happens. "She's going to be fine. Bobbie's going to be fine," she says this again, nearly whispering, a mantra more than anything.

Orangeblossom is quick to give orders and the others rush toward the bodies and Lupinepaw remains rather uselessly off to the side. She smells a scent she only knows tangentially as Windclan and she looks at the unnamed body that remains unattended to. He looks skinny and Orangeblossom calls him mange and by stars he looks so young and she wonders if there existed a reality that would put Crowpaw (she does not know why she thinks of her estranged brother first) or Falconpaw or herself in his place. She doesn't know why she is suddenly reminded of that odd leaf-fall morning she spent sharing tongues with Cottonpaw, who smelled like herbs and stress but was nice enough to her and oh how stressful it seemed to be a medicine cat back then.

When warriors told stories of The Great Battle and showed off scars from foes from the past, she thought she understood why they were so proud, she thought she knew what honor there was in warriorhood. But then she hears Cherrypaw screaming with a fang-torn leg and she hears Twitchbolt insist that there's another life left in Blazestar and she sees the bodies lay still as their blood pools to mingle in the snow and she realizes that she does not understand. And she may not ever understand. Was this it? Was this all that awaited them all in the life of a warrior? Would they just tear each other's parent's throat out and spill each other's friends guts all over the forest floor over and over until they all went to Starclan to share tongues and talk about "the good ole days" until the end of time?

They're moving now and Blazestar is dead. And so is that cat. . And Bobbie is alive. And she will be okay. And her eye is missing. (Where did it go? Should it be buried?) And they would have a vigil for Blazestar and they would put lavender on his pelt like they did when everyone died. But that Windclan warrior would not get lavender. Why did he do this? Why did he come all this way to kill Blazestar all on his own? Where would he be buried? And Blazestar died nine times already. And Bobbie was right. And Bobbie would be okay. And Bobbie was pregnant. And she was all covered in blood. And her siblings would not know their father, and they would be the same in that way. And now they would go back to camp and everyone was going to cry. And Orangeblossom would be leader. And Blazestar was dead.



  • OOC:
  • lupinepaw.png
  • lupinekit . lupinepaw
    — trans she/her. 9mo apprentice of skyclan. padding after falconpaw
    — a tall, pretty, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
    — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    — icon by antiigone, fullbody by pikaihao and chibi by rae
    — penned by eezy
 
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
A lonely hue staring at the bloodied scene, nothing more than a shuddered flick of his wooly tail against the snow, indifferent to the scene before him, shoulders pulled back, a pillar against the disbelief and grief-stricken sobs for their fallen leader, dead at their paws, taken by another and a lead warrior broken, losing a mate in front of her brought forth emotions he hadn’t dared return to.

Ya did good, Blazestar. His thought was fleeting, staring at the bloodied form of their leader, Orangeblossom offering news that no one wanted to believe, breath muddled against a scarred muzzle, coming in long puffs that chilled his nose. Ya did good. His ears buzzed, cotton-filled, leaving voices muddled as he trudged forward on steady paws, ears angled forward, drawing out steady breaths.

His gaze lingered on the crumbled frame of a WindClanner, tossed to the side like crowfood brought some sick satisfaction curling ruthlessly in his stomach. Duskpool would have done the same, just as he’d done moons ago to protect his kin, his son, but it’d been too late. It was always too late.

No amount of apologies will tell ya how much I never wanted this to happen. He thought, whispering against the onslaught of emotion he didn’t dare open, didn’t even let himself until they gathered the dead, bringing them home. He rumbled at the sounds of Drowsypaw, Falconpaw, and Lupinepaw rising to comfort, ordering to help. His heart soured, breath stuttering inside his chest, flank stumbling for a beat at the harrowing sight.

“Come on, kid.” He rumbled, leveling his head to Drowsypaw’s height, staring at the small form of his apprentice. “Let’s bring her home.” He rasped, barely able to stare at Blazestar’s frame before trickling toward his son, heart clenching pitifully at the sight. “She’ll recover.” He doubted she’d be alright, and he refused to give the other hope, familiar in more ways than he wanted to admit. Losing a mate before yer very eyes wasn’t something one just bounced back from. He sure as hell hadn’t for moons, and some part of him still hadn’t gotten over the loss of his late wife. “Let’s go home.”
thought speech