wc rebels ARRIVAL ╱ RAVEN-HARVEST ´ˎ˗

[SUNNVAR]

His voice is a bellow, a landslide trigged by the beginning of Bluepool's: "ENOUGH!"

The warrior's fur has doubled his size, and he stands as tall as his limbs may carry him. Gone is the loose limber of a warrior prepared to strike. No longer could he stand silent at another's side. "You think that we did not know? That even then, we did not see a ghost of our future before us?" He looks at Yewberry with hard glacial eyes, yet there is no cruelty to be found as he looks upon the loner. "You do not know half of the cats standing before you; should you wish to expend your rage on a cat other than Sootstar, it will be me from this point forward." In a way, he has always understood Sootstar's claim to ownership. They are mine, his heart screams. Mine to lead, mine to protect; mine to die for. It is not what she had wished to share with him. A terrible thing, to learn now how much he missed his father.

"WindClan has been born anew. From this very moment, should the stars allow it, we will repair what has become of us and push forward." Somewhere between a war cry and a plea for understanding, Sunstride turns his gaze to sweep across all those that had followed him, and all those that would greet him now. Some he knows that he must brute force this revelation upon. Some others would find joy in it. The wind gusts across his fur and his eyes move ever onwards across the pale moor, until they land upon–

Galeforce. His fur bristles. Periwinklebreeze had already been restrained, yet there is a terrible moment where he wars with both sides. His own search of peace for his clan, and rage at what he sees before him. Vulturemask had been a bristly, unkind tom. Yet he was not an extension of Sootstar. To strike at him was an act of cruelty that he might once admire, when it was not directed at him and his clan. Were it not he that had been involved in the moment of death. "You," he snarls. "You will have nothing to do with our clan. You struck down our medicine cat, attacked me, all for your hatred of a cat who was neither?" Thunderous with rage, the great warrior stalks closer until he can look upon the tom with the hatred he had felt then and now. "I carried his body with me from highstones to his home, due to your own errant cruelty."

For all of his anger, Sunstride does not strike. He turns his back to Galeforce, and faces Yewberry once more. "If you are to speak of barbarism, include Gale in it just the same."

But all at once, his rage begins to cool. Perhaps he had finally run himself dry once more, or had finally understood the weight of Featherpaw's words. One cold, white-tipped paw lifts to swipe across his face. He takes the brief look of despair from his face with the motion. The rot that they had all suffered became synonymous with their clan. He wishes only that he could let this clan die entirely. Truly tear himself from these rotten roots and begin anew, with all of them. "Our complacency came from fear. The way that you fear us now, we have feared Sootstar. Doing what is right has cost us dearly, just as it had once cost you. My daughter lies in a pool of her own blood!" It has become rage again, however temporary. "For standing against Sootstar and doing what was right. Do not shame us for our fear when we have all been proven right for it."

When he looks upon Rivepaw, it is gone once more. He feels at once as if he might shatter. "We are not here to fight. We will stand against Sootstar and drive her from this moor. It may cost us far more than this," he tells the rest of his clan, speaking of their dead and their mourning, "but we will live on with StarClan's blessing, and StarClan's will." To the rogues: "Your peace will continue as soon as we are well enough to take this fight to her once more. Whatever you may hate us for, I ask that you put it to rest. At least until this nightmare has ended."

Softly, he pleads, "Those of you who are strongest. I ask that you carry my daughter to the barn so that she may rest. Those among you that are injured, go. Make nests, sleep. We must gather herbs and tend to our wounds, and search for any of those who trailed behind."

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. partially ninja'd by echo and mouse but i'm not rewriting the four paragraphs i did ASDLFKJADSH sorry
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

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[RATTLEHEART]

It takes so little for chaos to break out amongst them all once again, and Rattleheart couldn't help the soft sigh that left his muzzle as he turned his face into his sister's shoulder. He could certainly understand the tension that existed between them all, but he honestly couldn't understand why everyone was choosing to focus on the past in this moment. He closed his eyes briefly, instead focusing on his breathing until he heard Redpaw's voice from nearby - full of tears and guilt, tired in such a way that it was enough to make the tunneler's heart break. He moved slowly away from Scorchstreak's side, stumbling over to the side of the apprentice that wasn't already occupied by Venomstrike. Leaning down, he touched his nose gently to the top of Redpaw's head, trying to soothe the guilt that he could already feel festering in his words. "Don't apologize for their actions, Redpaw. Rumbler- Rumblepaw made their choice. I can only hope that they will see what's right before Sootstar leads them to their doom. Either way, it isn't your fault, I promise." Rumblerain choosing to stay behind was like a stab to the tunneler's heart, but that was because of Rumblerain's own actions, not because Redpaw hadn't been able to convince them.

At least Sunstride still had a good head on his shoulders, even if their de facto leader was clearly dealing with his own struggles over the entire situation. Rattleheart just nodded along with his words, agreeing with the sentiment behind all of them. Though he had never been a huge fan of Vulturemask's, he hadn't ever wanted the medicine cat to die, let alone be murdered in such a way. He wasn't happy to have to co-exist with his murderer, but he also knew they weren't in a situation where they could be particularly picky about where they stayed until they could take their true home back. "Regardless of what has happened in the past, we are all on the same side. All of us agree that Sootstar is a lying, evil warmonger that will lead not only Windclan, but everything that she touches to ruin. Infighting will not help any of us, or make it so that her iron grip on the moors is weakened." Nothing else would help them, besides healing and regrouping and making sure they would be ready to run Sootstar and her loyalists out of the true Windclan's camp as soon as possible.

With his own thoughts out there, Rattleheart didn't see any more need for argument or focusing on the former Windclan exiles. Instead he just pressed his nose gently to Redpaw and Venomstrike's sides before he slowly moved towards the inside of the twoleg barn. Making a nest in his current state would likely be difficult, but he'd happily fight through the pain if it meant he'd have somewhere to put his head down and let his body heal from Harbingermoon's attack.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

Gravelsnap trembles with each step they take away from WindClan, away from the only home they have ever known. They have Periwinklebreeze by their side, at least, and Slatetooth, but they cannot shake the feeling that they’ve made a wrong choice. Leaving behind Bluefrost and Thriftfeather—what kind of friend are they, what kind of mentor? They had trained Thriftfeather for so long, from a kit to a warrior, and they just left him behind. They had befriended Bluefrost, known her since her birth, and yet here they stand, with their fur pressed against Peri’s as though they are somehow deserving of it even after what they’ve done. The thought makes them feel sick to their stomach.

But they don’t have time to dwell on their guilt, their betrayal. Slatetooth approaches them with a touch of hesitation, as though he can’t believe that they’d followed Sunstride all the way here. As though he can’t believe they would turn against Sootstar. They can’t quite believe it, either; if their father knew that they had turned against their clan, he would surely kill them, wouldn’t he? They can hardly believe their ears when their brother says that he’s… dead.

Their heart sinks into their stomach, a stone in water. Their limbs go cold, colder than the air around them. They turn to seek some sort of comfort from Periwinklebreeze—but the other has already moved away at some point, somehow escaping their notice. "What do you-" they stumble over their words, flinching when Slatetooth shoves his face into their pelt. The feeling of tears dripping into their fur makes their skin crawl, but with a deep breath they push through it, eyes falling shut for a moment. Lynxtooth is dead. It feels so impossible. They know that their father was cruel, he was imperfect—but he was their father. He had shaped them to be just like him, once. Are they not still formed in his image, a mirror of the tom whose approval once meant the entire world to them. "Who killed him?" The question is asked with a shard of ice in their tone. They may have drifted from him, for those last months, but they can still avenge him, can’t they?

A sudden commotion catches their attention, and they catch sight of Periwinklebreeze snarling at—who is that? One of the former WindClan exiles, a cat who Gravelsnap doesn’t care enough to recall the name of. A cat who squandered his chance to be a part of the clan long ago. At least they all have something to fight for, now. They will reclaim their home. "Peri-" their jaws snap shut as Bluepool lunges for the other warrior, dragging him away from his target. They want to go to him, offer some kind of comfort to him, but… they shift closer to their brother, shuttering their mind to all that is happening around them.

It will all turn out alright, won’t it? It has to. For them, and for Peri, and for Slatetooth and Bluefrost and Thriftfeather. They can all make it out of this alive, and once Sootstar is gone they can go back to the way everything was before.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

​

 

[REDHEART]

For a moment he is pulled from the grief as Periwinklebreeze, Bluepool, and shout their declarations against some cat named Galeforce. Owlishly he stares at the perpetrator taking in the exiled cats expression as other barn cats voice their opposition. Not again. Flattening his ears he turns into Venomstrike once more. His age and knowledge prevented him from truly knowing the depths of pain surrounding these cats but their heartache was palpable. Still Redpaw held not answers nor questions and could only hold his tongue.

Trying to block out the commotion his heart thudded anxiously. Yet he catches the soft request of the deputy and his heart constricts. At the touch of a nose to his head a welcome distraction is brought to the distraught apprentice Shyly he looks to Rattleheart and like a blanket of warmth he is enveloped by their reassurance. I know but I can't forgive myself. Sighing shakily he nods in agreement and aims to gently nuzzle her chest in turn. A quiet 'thank you' as his tightened throat could not offer a response.

Batting away the last of his tears the younger feline finally places his interest on Sunstride. The golden cat's passionate plea and sincere gaze enough to throttle Redpaw's earlier doubts. Rattleheart's reasonable distress another cool reminder that they were in fact on the same side. Pushing back at the waves of uncertainty he calls out through the throng of felines. "I-I can help with Rivepaw." He had suffered little in terms of injury and knew Rivepaw would need a friend.

Alas, a small bit of courage had returned as Rattleheart kindly nudged them. He blinked a soft non-verbal reply to their leave as he too left Venomstrike's side. At least I can be of use this way rather than a sniveling mess. His thoughts are down trodden as he steps towards Sunstride and his daughter. Looking down at the brutalities of the Loyalists as she breathes faintly. Sucking in sharply he forces himself to take in the reality of their situation.

Windclan would have to start new and Sootstar could not be allowed to live. Not after this level of evil. I have to trust in us. I have to. Out of respect he does not reach for his injured denmate and instead waits silently for the approval of Wolfsong and Sunstride.

OOC
Interacting with @VENOMSTRIKE @RATTLEHEART and @SUNSTRIDE​

 

[mothmoon]

( ✧ )this whole ordeal is fantastically annoying. the young warrior tries to hide grimaces of pain as she guides her former mentor across the fields, faithfully following her clan. fogbound cackles under his breath, muttering words mothmoon does not care to listen to. she presses against his ruffled fur, feeling sticky blood ooze down her face, staining her pale fur dark. sunstride halts at horseplace, his body scarred and bloody but his voice booming with authority. mothmoon straightens up, glowing eyes fixed on who she perceives as a new leader. he gives orders, and the dwellers of the barn creep out to greet windclan's remaining. the she-cat turns away from the scene, hardly caring.

fogbound grins, blood staining his teeth as he speaks to her, and the molly will huff in amusement. "yes, yes, you're extraordinarily handsome and terrifying. i'm sure the she-cat elders will swoon," she teases back, tone warm but worried. her long dappled tail flicks over the older's back, assessing his wounds. he looks alright, besides the gash and gaping eye, but anxiety makes her stomach turn sour.

she has half a mind to seek out her mother's appearance within the crowd, to make sure the disagreeable she-cat had at least gotten to safety. then again, wingsoar had always idealized sootstar's actions- mothmoon wouldn't be shocked if the dappled woman had turned traitor and stayed with the false clan. she hardly cares, she finds, although there is a slight guilt at this fact. the moor-runner turns her attention back to fogbound, wondering vaguely if rabbitclaw is near. "that mouse-brained thriftfeather tore my ear to shreds," she complains, a snarl curling her lip. "i'll kill him next time i see him," growling lowly, mothmoon imagines the scene, pictures claws raking into the larger cat's fur, finishing the job she had attempted to start.

her former mentor queries about finchpaw and the pretty molly will raise her head, glancing about for a sign of the little rat. she spots brightshine, conversing with a cat she vaguely recognizes from kithood. "your charge is most likely with her mother. can't see her from here, though." her low voice is interrupted by the eruption of sudden violence. periwinklebreeze launches himself at a dark tabby- galeforce makes himself known and anger ripples through the clan. the violence halts as quickly as it begins, with sunstride's words soothing and strengthening the clan. mothmoon presses against fogbound and urges him forward. "let's get you settled, old man. you've gotta heal so you can get finchpaw to my level."

// interacting w @FOGBOUND , looking for @RABBITCLAW and @FINCHPAW!
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[FINCHPAW! ☆]

╭───── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ───── ☀︎ ──── ･ﾟﾟ･｡ ───── ⋅ ⋅ ─────╮​

Following along after the rest of her red-stained clanmates (did they really count as clanmates anymore, though, after all that had just happened?), Finchpaw is struck by just how familiar the march is. It hardly feels like it's been any time at all since they'd been driven out of their home by greedy rogues, but this...this feels worse than that, monumentally so. If she closes her eyes for too long, she can still picture her clanmates tearing each other apart, a whirlwind of teeth and claws and blood - most of all, the blood haunts her even now, only just beginning to crust across the pelts before her. Her pelt is still pristine, only scuffed from the chaos, but it's not hard to imagine how it could so easily have been marred, like - like Rivepaw, who still hasn't woken up, deep crimson staining her so unnaturally.

Who had even made it out, she wonders? Brightshine and Pinkpaw are there, and she's quick to stay near them, but it's hard to tell where everybody else is. Somewhere in the crowd must be the rest of her family, but she's not even sure that they had all been there, when Sootstar had said they had to kill Sunstride. Not that she would have wanted to not listen to Sootstar before today, but Finchpaw is acutely aware of just how glad she is that particular directive hadn't been achieved, even if some cats had tried really, really hard to follow through. Sunstride is still here, and he's acting all in charge and the grown-ups are all talking about Sootstar, so now seems like the perfect time to regroup - only, she's not really sure how to find everyone else. "Mama? Mama, where - where's Larkfeather, and Downypaw? She said she was gonna get them. And Lilacstem, too - I don't know where she went, either," she asks, aiming to nudge Brightshine gently to get her attention.

Larkfeather had been there one moment and then gone the next, off to look for Downypaw, who Finchpaw hadn't ever seen, she's pretty sure, but Lilacstem - she'd definitely seen Lilacstem, at least for a moment. Her aunt had been fighting someone, and she'd gotten knocked down to the ground, but that was the last thing she remembered before they'd run - surely she must be somewhere here in the crowd, looking for the rest of them just like they were looking for her. And - and Morningsong, and Sparkspirit too, but she doesn't remember seeing them at all, either; would they find their way, too? Uncertainty brims in her gaze, and she attempts to press against Pinkpaw's side for comfort just as strange cats begin to appear, some of which seem to know Brightshine, for some reason.

"Sister?" she can't help but blurt out at the explanation, looking from Echolight to Pollenfur and then finally to Pinkpaw, as though her actual sister might understand better than she does. "Um, we already have sisters, I just - I don't know where one of them is right now," Finchpaw tries to explain, which only makes her wish Larkfeather and Downypaw would materialize that much faster. The cat with the nasty-looking scar - Echolight, apparently (which is kind of weird 'cause that sounds like a normal name, but clearly these cats aren't from WindClan, or she'd already know them) - asks about her kits, which only makes her think of Lark-kit and Ouzelkit, who are gone, and Downypaw, who's also not here yet, and then there's more fighting. Thankfully, it doesn't turn into a full-out brawl again, 'cause she's not sure any of them could handle fighting again, but in her momentary distraction from these new, strange cats, a pair of familiar voices make her ears prick.

"I'm gonna - I'll be right back, I gotta - gotta see Fogbound," she offers an explanation even as she feels torn in two, stepping away from her family for only a few moments. It doesn't take long to track Fogbound and Mothmoon down, and she initially only spares Mothmoon a glance before she rounds on her mentor, grimacing at the new wounds he bears. Worst of all is the curl of red across his eye - his good eye, she thinks belatedly - and it's not open, and all she can do is stare at first, uncharacteristically silent. When had it happened, she wonders? Right after he had told her to go, or sometime later? Finchpaw knows nothing about medicine, nothing about injuries, but she knows enough to understand this isn't any good - would he even be able to see, once it was all cleaned up?

Could she have helped him, if she had stayed by her mentor's side? Wasn't that what she was supposed to do - look after him, just like he was supposed to look after her? First those rogues that had attacked, tried to drag him off, and now this... If it had been claws across her pelt instead of his eye, would that have been any better? Or would it still have happened, even if she had tried to help him? The longer she thinks about it, the more muddled it gets, so she chooses to put that aside in favor of something more productive than thinking about stuff that didn't and wouldn't ever happen. "Fogbound, I - I found my mama, like you said. Didn't have to fight anybody, or nothing like that." For once, she doesn't know what else to say, fixated on that snarled slash dripping down and across his eye. In a moment, she'll slip away, slip back to her family and find the rest of them and figure out more about these new cats that know Brightshine and her apparently-sister, but for now she remains, finally glancing back to Mothmoon to see if she's been hurt, too.​

˗ˏˋ BIRD'S EYE VIEW, AWAKE THE STARS (ˏˋ°•*⁀➷) 'CAUSE THEY'RE ALL AROUND YOU ´ˎ˗

• OOC: Interacting with @BRIGHTSHINE! @PINKPAW @POLLENFUR @Echolight . and then with @FOGBOUND and @mothmoon​
• 
• 
  - Finch Finchkit Finchpaw
  - She/her (AFAB)
  - 5 moons
  - Loner Kit Apprentice of WindClan
  - Hearty & scruffy chocolate lynx point with splashes of white and bright blue eyes
  - Art by Jay & base by googaoo respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

┌────────────────────☽【❖】☾────────────────────┐​

Scarcely has Luckypaw felt so disorientated as this, stone-heavy paws carrying him and the rest of his clanmates (traitors, his mind supplies) away - away from WindClan, away from their friends, from their family, from...from everything. If he were anything less than shell-shocked, he might tear away at how unfair the situation was; hardly had he even been able to settle back in, and already chased from his home in a manner even his fears couldn't accomplish. It's only for a moment he contemplates the alternative - staying back in WindClan, where he no longer felt so comfortable as he used to, spurning Scorchpaw's warning - before he knows there's no world in which he makes a different decision. For better or for worse, WindClan had already stopped being the home he recognized somewhere along the way, somewhere off between the mountains and the tunnels, and there's only so much regret in leaving that he can stomach. Aside from that, he knows with a bone-set certainty that he couldn't bear being separated from Scorchpaw; if she had stayed, so, too would he have found himself within those familiar gorse walls, even at (or perhaps in spite of) the cost of his own freedom.

He's hardly spoken a word since their two mottled pelts had gone racing out side-by-side, unwilling or unable to interrupt the tension and the fog that hung in the air, and even as they slow, Sunstride beginning to address them all, he only leans into his littermate, taking solace in the fact that she's here. While he holds a certain amount of faith in Sunstride, at least enough to believe in Scorchpaw's belief in him, there are matters that are more important to Luckypaw in this moment - namely, finding the rest of their family. Some of them, he'd caught glimpses of in the chaos - Scorchstreak, and Rumblerain - but Rattleheart and Rabbitclaw he hadn't caught sight of, too panic-ridden to stop and search for either of them. Now, though, as Scorchstreak's lilt carries, among the soul-aching relief is familiarity - another separation, another reunion, layers and layers of rock between them.

Pushing away the thought before it can truly well up takes little effort, not when Scorchstreak and Rattleheart are both there, right in sight. There's no hesitance in his step as he approaches, calling out, "Here - here," even as his voice feels thick with some mixture equal parts weariness and relief. Notably, Rumblerain isn't there with them, which tugs a frown onto his features, though he tries to convince himself it doesn't mean anything - they could still be somewhere else in the crowd, just as he and Scorchpaw had been. The scores across Scorchstreak and Rattleheart elicit a sympathetic wince, and fear of worsening the wounds is the only thing that holds him back from seeking out the comfort of pressing against either of them. As it stands, he's preparing himself to seek out Rumblerain and Rabbitclaw among the crowd, dread pooling the longer he goes without seeing either of them, when he catches Redpaw's words.

Rumblerain had...stayed behind? It doesn't compute, at first, the words not making any sense, and his jaw tries to work itself loose, to pry some response free from his reeling mind. "They - they - stayed behind? Chose to stay behind?" he flounders, suddenly feeling unsteady. They had been...different, since they'd all returned from the journey, but - surely, surely not that different? Right?

Looking to Scorchstreak, and Rattleheart, and Scorchpaw, he finds he doesn't know what else to say, nothing else to splutter out in his shock. Rumblerain had stayed behind with the others - the others who had tried to kill Sunstride. Had tried to kill their family. They had sided with Sootstar, and - what if Luckypaw had met them on the battlefield? Scorchpaw? Would they have fought the two of them? Would they have defended Sootstar from the traitors, down to their last breath? He feels weaker than ever at that thought, and releases a shaky breath, trying to collect his thoughts from where they lay scattered about. There's nothing to be done about it now - like Redpaw had said, Rumblerain chose to stay behind, just like he chose to leave, and really, there's more pertinent things to be discussed, but he can't stop thinking about the last time he'd seen his littermate. The last time he'd spoken to them. Would he ever get the chance to speak with them again, to even see them again? The uncertainty tugging at his chest inspires little confidence, and he's almost glad for the sudden distraction in the form of Periwinklebreeze.

He'd noticed the other cats that had approached, of course, but it hadn't seemed necessary to pay them too much mind until the reunion was over; now, though, he's regretting not keeping an eye out for them even as Bluepool drags Periwinklebreeze off of one of them. As Sunstride addresses the situation, the missing context is made known, even if it takes him a moment to put the pieces together - Vulturemask, the medicine cat before Wolfsong. Only vaguely does Luckypaw remember him, and even then it's more akin to remembering staying away from him, some sort of dislike bleeding from Scorchstreak, and when his body had been dragged back to camp, murdered while out. Hardly does he know Periwinklebreeze, even after darkened stone tunnels, after a mountain, so it's still a shock to see the warrior so upset as to be moved to violence over such a thing. Sunstride is quick to step in, too, making an attempt at defusing the situation, and from there the next directive is given - rest.

All-too-clearly, he can feel the unmarred surface of his pelt, particularly in the face of those so seriously injured; he'd thought it fortuitous at first, lucky even, but now it makes him feel out of place, guilty. Should he have fought, too - raised his claws against those he'd grown up with? They'd certainly had no qualms with it, evidently, but just the thought of it feels so intensely wrong that he's not certain it's a reliable metric to judge himself against. Like the badger attack, he thinks, a sharp pang of guilt building up - he hadn't been particularly useful then, either. Regrets aside, it's not as though he can change his actions now that it's already said and done, so for now his focus is laid on something, anything, that he can do. "I'll work on finding some bedding," he murmurs, unable to keep himself from glancing once again at the new slashes across Scorchstreak's form. It's the least he can do, standing here unharmed among the injured, with no right to be so weary, not really. Make some nests for those that would need them - that, he can do.​

i&#039;m falling into place, but still the timing&#039;s not right (☘) yeah that&#039;s a fire i just can&#039;t seem to light

• OOC: Interacting with @SCORCHPAW @SCORCHSTREAK​
• 
• 
  - Luckykit Luckypaw
  - He/him (AFAB)
  - 8 moons (Ages on the 1st)
  - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
  - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
  - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​

 

[slateheart]

-ˋˏ ༻☽༺ ˎˊ- Gravelsnap's response is expected, though Slatetooth wish it wasn't. It wasn't hard to catch the sliver of coldness in his brother's voice, inquiring who their fathers' killer was. The black-furred tom pulled away from Gravelsnap's shoulder and looked him in the eye, trying to read his expression, his thoughts. Did he feel the same liberation that Slatetooth felt, finally free from the manipulative clutches of Lynxtooth? Or did he mourn and seek vengeance?

Slatetooth considered lying, if only for a moment. Someone else did it - he saw it happen; he heard a rumor on the wind. But there was no point in lying his way out of this. Sooner or later, the truth would come out - with all the cats around him, somebody had to have seen it. Whatever little ties he had with Gravelsnap could be at risk if his sibling wouldn't see the sense in this - but how impactful would it be to lose a companion he never had?

"I did," he replied evenly, after a few moments of thought. His tears had dried, yet his eyes were not dull as they once were - they were thoughtful, scared, and relieved, all the feelings he felt now but wouldn't dare to express through words. Not so soon. "He attacked me. He would have attacked you too, if he saw you leaving." He wasn't sure if he believed his own words; Lynxtooth saw something in Gravelsnap that he could only wish to see in Slatetooth, someone strong and loyal and devoted. They'd probably talk it out, he thought with a taste of bitterness.

With all the chaos exploding around them, between his Clanmates and old WindClanners he could barely remember the faces of let alone their names, Slatetooth took the opportunity to dismiss himself from the conversation, so long as Gravelsnap had not continued speaking to him. Though his battered pelt and torn ear stung against the cold air, the blood had mostly dried by the coarse leaf-bare wind, and they could wait a few minutes before being tended to if all he had to carry was an apprentice. He approached Sunstride and Rivepaw with a curt nod. "I can help."

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── WHEN YOU&#039;RE YOUNG ⋅❁⋅ YOU&#039;RE A LOADED GUN ──┐‎

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• 

• 
  SLATETOOTH ✩ he/him, moor-runner of windclan, 17 moons.
  ⭃ a reclusive short-haired black tom with low white and green eyes.
  ⭃ mate to no one. son of lynxtooth x adelaide. brother to gravelsnap and ashpaw.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Galeforce]

↞ RACE THE WINDS

It never ceased to amaze Gale how quickly things could turn to shit. Of course Vulturemask's shadow would find him again, now he was sending forth the claws of those he had manipulated during his time in WindClan. The tom braced himself when Periwinklebreeze launched at him and he shifted to roll back, putting his claws at the ready to fight when the other attempted to pin him. Fortunately it didn't descend into further madness as others intervened, though he was not met with relief for being alive, or for his role in wounding Sootstar's circle of lackies.

"Vulturemask was devoted to Sootstar, and he was hardly innocent. I only kill those who are a threat, and he was a threat regardless of what you've come to believe. He was practically raised by the Mad Queen, he learned how to manipulate those who knew him." He couldn't blame them for being complete fools. Breaking free from the lies and the shroud was always the hardest part. In time he was sure that they would come around. "You're gonna need someone who will actually get the job done when the day comes, Sunstride. So I suggest not casting me aside so soon. Anyway, I best be off, hunting won't get done otherwise." The tabby purred lightly as he strolled away.
​

 

[FOGBOUND]

your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

To be met with chaos, how interesting—Fogbound had learned to ignore the annoying shouts of comrades and strangers alike to focus on Mothmoon and Finchpaw’s rising voices with a subtle curl of his tail. He rumbled in amusement, dark lips curled in a cheeky grin that pulled at caked ichor. A shame that it’d been his face, but he couldn’t call himself chivalrous if he let a few scars get in the way, but to be called extraordinarily handsome, then well, Fogbound couldn’t help but add with amusement, “teasing your old mentor now, are we?” He hummed, not before adding, “A relief to hear, of course, even I still have the honor of swooning our dear elders.” He purred.


His ears swerved, scowl present at the comment, ruby hues narrowing despite the sharp twinge of white-hot agony that numbed his sluggish brain, Fogbound couldn’t help but huff. “You’ll get your chance, my dear.” He rumbled, placing a wooly tail against her side, or having attempted it by the brush of her tail earlier. “Do make him pay, the next time we battle. Show him just how terrifying you are, after all, you are my apprentice.” He grinned devilishly. To think the other landed a strike against her. Fogbound hummed, idly tapping his claws against the ground. Oh, I cannot wait to see how that changes. Although the other had gotten the best of her, taking action when Fogbound hadn’t realized, he knew she would get him back. Just as he was attentive to his appearance, she was the same, and one didn’t just scar them without consequences. “I’m certain you’ll look that much more beautiful when it heals, my dear. After all, I believe cats have a liking for scars.” He offered with a grin, crinkling his muzzle as he did so.


At the mention of Finchpaw, the smokey moor runner breathed a quiet sigh of relief, masking it with a thoughtful hum, resting his chin against the top of his paw, wiggling rigid claws. “I see.” He spoke, only for chaos to erupt yet again drawing a loud sigh from the moor runner. “Trouble in paradise, mhm?” He mused, listening as they tossed names around, mentions of murder and devotion to their ex-queen. He tutted, angling his ears away from it all to listen to Mothmoon, expression grumpy. “Old man? Dear me, should I retire?” He teased, pressing a paw against the center of his chest in faux terror until the little worm spoke, breaking that fragile air of amusement.

“Ah, my little worm. I see you listened.” He tutted. “Now off you go—” He made a shooing motion with his untucked paw. “There’s no need to check up on me, now is there? I’m quite alright. Go to your mother, little worm. I’m sure she’d much rather have you beside her than with me.” He tsked, grinning devilishly. It was a relief, to see Finchpaw unharmed, shoulders relaxing when he heard her voice, but Fogbound would refuse to admit it. Naturally. He couldn’t possibly lose face, after all, Fogbound was a dedicated bringer of mischief, how else would he keep everyone on their toes?

With that, Fogbound gathered himself onto his paws, hesitant at first, but all that more thankful to feel Mothmoon pressed against his side, urging him forward. It was then that he took the first few steps, guided by the other. He couldn’t help but crack a smile, tail flickering. “But of course, my dear.”

/ talking with @mothmoon and @FINCHPAW!​

​

thought speech​

 

[BRIGHTSHINE!]

Muscles aching and fur drying under splattered blood, Brightshine follows the deputy into the pasture with three of her four kits in tow. Her ears remain pressed against her ducked head, concern evident on her face. Lilacstem, Downypaw, Morningsong, Larkfeather, Sparkspirit…all left behind. Anxiety twists her gut - they have to go back. They have to go back for them. What will happen to them, kin of even more traitors? Sootstar could kill them. She wants to be sick at the thought, still trudging along behind her clanmates, but approaching pawsteps and a head bumping against hers draws her attention.

“Pollenfur,” She cries out in relief, thankful to have even one of her sisters at her side right now. She leans in to nuzzle her littermate’s neck, a broken purr in her throat, before she pulls away. Immediately, she can sense the worry coming off of her, and her ears flatten even further. “Downypaw is still back there,” She whispers, voice cracking with emotion. No one here but herself and Heavy Snow even know…Downypaw is Pollenfur’s kit. The news will be just as crushing for her as it is for the calico.

She is about to formally introduce Finchpaw and the others to Pollenfur then, but her daughter is scampering off to find her mentor and Brightshine silently promises to find a quiet time later to let Pollenfur get to know her. It’s then that she hears her name from another pair of lips, voice achingly familiar, and Pinkpaw’s chirping voice asking who she is.

Brightshine looks up, green eyes catching one pale blue, and she gasps. “Echolight?” Is she a ghost? The calico limps forward quickly, throwing herself into her daughter for an embrace. “I thought you were gone! Where have you been?!” She sobs, tears rolling down her cheeks. She’s lost too much, continuing to lose too much, but her shattered heart is at least able to heal a little bit as she holds her child. She cranes her neck to little Pinkpaw, sniffling and smiling. “Yeah, Pinky - this is your older sister.” But she asks about her kits next, and Brightshine must turn dejected eyes onto her. “They’re not with us, they’re still back in the moors. So is Lilacstem and Downypaw. We have to get them back, we-“ She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut, stomach continuing to churn.

// talking to @POLLENFUR @Echolight . @PINKPAW

Sorry I couldn’t respond to everything, just the stuff involving bright so I didn’t get too overwhelmed!​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Blood floods into the barn like it floods the atria of the heart; it stinks of copper and salt, of desperation, of grief. Scorchpaw had fled with hardly a scratch left to show for it, and she is acutely aware of the fact as she stands in the presence of her far worse-off clanmates, Luckypaw at her shoulder. Thank StarClan he's here. Thank StarClan her mother is here. And her mentor — though Sunstride is not her father, she is glad to not have to find a new mentor yet again. Is it a trivial thought in the midst of what they've just done? The normal life she has just left behind? Perhaps, but Scorchpaw finds comfort in it anyway, a low flame beneath her heart.

It's enough to keep her from despairing. WindClan has not felt like home since she'd returned from those rugged peaks — really, seeing those kittens in camp, feeling the tension of Sootstar's posse at the pack of her neck; she is almost unsurprised by this revelation. Almost. She can't say it doesn't feel like some upheaval, because it is, and it does. She's an apprentice, maybe, but is she still a WindClanner? Does her heart still beat in time with the wave of moorland grasses? Does she still have the swiftness of a rabbit? Or has she betrayed that blessing, somehow, going against the Queen?

Scorchstreak calls for her kits. Luckypaw answers first, and then his sister, "I'm here." Maybe she would have missed Redpaw's news if she had not been standing at Luckypaw's side, so close to his incredulity. Rumblerain — Rumblepaw — was still in camp.

Her basic comfort shatters; Scorchpaw whips her head to meet Redpaw's gaze, the fur on her shoulders bristling. "What?!" Her sibling had never seemed to exhibit such poor judgment when they'd all been kits. They'd played, they'd loved, they'd laughed. What had happened while she and Luckypaw were in the mountains? What had changed? And... what would happen if she met them on the battlefield? Would they attack her? Would she attack them back? The flame-licked molly's ears drop to pin against her skull. She glances back at Luckypaw, dual-toned gaze pointed, though not against him. "Why would they ever...?" She does not even realize the way in which she sought him, and only him, in their escape from the battle they'd just fled.

Tail lashing, Scorchpaw hardly registers Sunstride's bellow towards the unruly barn cats (and her unruly clanmates), or the rest of the cats' confusion, or even their grief. Instead she wallows in her own, emotions unprocessed, and when Luckypaw turns to gather bedding she follows without a word.

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐈 𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐆𝐄 ✧ 𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿

• 

• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw
  — she/they ; apprentice of windclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — signature by dreamydoggo, template art by ska-i
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[SPARROWBREEZE]

She's made it full circle, large paws stepping where small once ran away from, the territory of her birthplace in front of her. The scent of sharp copper encapsulates her now, just like the day she left this place.

Are we really staying here? The new warrior wants to ask, wants to protest in fear of what she'd once fled from. Sparrowbreeze never thought she'd step foot here again, never thought she'd come to find shelter in barns once more. She'd fled another home, fled another tragedy, just to be here, all over again.

And the faces they meet, has she met them before? Sparrowbreeze doesn't think so, doesn't remember them in her barn days or her clan days, though some carry soot-billowed fear in their clan-sounding names — one shared by her, by all of them, she assumes. But while she doesn't know them, really, others do.

Others do, and others reunite, and though Sparrowbreeze knows — she knows, she hates that she knows — no one will be coming to greet her like they do Brightshine and her family, she wishes the dark fur of her mother would round the corner, would recognize her daughter standing before her. Sparrowbreeze is home, but not, all at once.

She is dragged from sorrow-filled wistfulness by Sunstride's voice, a shout that makes the new warrior's amber eyes grow wide, ears straining to listen for the stir of hounds' howl in the distance as the rebel-leader speaks, as he tasks the clan's remains with what's next. And as they disperse, the brown tabby does too, following those who aim to retrieve bedding. ​

✦ ABOUT

• 

  SPARROW ‣ SPARROWKIT ‣ SPARROWPAW ‣ SPARROWBREEZE
  ── Rebel Moor Runner of WindClan
  
  ── Birdie x Fisher
  ── AFAB; She/Her
  ── A scarred, brown tabby she-cat with low white and amber eyes.
  ── Mentored by Clawtail
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

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