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."
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."
- 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.
TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES. -
"speech"
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