camp as the world caves in — bad news [ pafp ]

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Things were different, watching with belated breath at his brother’s cold forms, heart clenching tight within his chest. His tears had dried long ago as he padded through the break in the brambles to stare at the hallowed-out camp bordered by brambles and ferns in search of a specific individual—Brightpaw. She deserved the truth, even if that made him out to be the villain. He deserved that much for ending Shadowfire’s life, snuffing out his pained whines that rattled like bones within his ears causing him to flinch, turning his helm with clenched teeth. Damnit.

He wanted to laugh as cruel as it was to laugh at someone’s misfortune; but he couldn’t bear to shed any more tears that soaked into obsidian fur, staining his cheeks in wet, crusty marks. He cried enough today.

He was stubborn, but he wasn’t invincible as much as he hoped, watching with a tired molten copper hue. He bit back a tired sigh, shaking his helm to take the first few steps on blood-stained paws, expression deadpan as he caught sight of the familiar fur of his brother’s apprentice. Here goes nothin’.

Duskpool paused, staring at his soaked paws, not having bothered with washing the ichor, looking like a monster out of some tale to scare the kits into behaving. “Brightpaw.” He rumbled, ignoring the way the blood cracked around his maw. Shadowfire’s blood. A voice reminded him, but he showed no emotion, simply offering a dip of his helm to the apprentice. “Shadowfire is dead.” He didn’t care to sugar coat words, offering no condolences or apologies, instead raising his helm to peer at the apprentice.

He took a deep breath, flank rising with the motion to wonder, if he should explain what had taken her mentor’s ( his brother’s ) life. Steeling his resolve, Duskpool stiffened, expression hardening.

“I killed him.”

@BRIGHTPAW ​

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thought speech​

 

[BRIGHTFLAME]

☆ -- | Stuck in camp, Brightpaw had found her paws to become restless as she healed, wanting to go out into the territory and train - do anything other than sit in camp counting specks of dust. In this moment she had decided that she would help clean out the nests that needed cleaning, it wasn't something that could realistically cause more injury to herself, and even if it did she could always seek out the help of Dawnglare or Fireflypaw once more. She was in the middle of picking sharp sticks out from a particularly stubborn nest when Duskpool approached. At first, she heed him no mind, expecting him to continue walking past her and go somewhere else, until she smelled the faint tinge of blood and looked over as he said her name.

Concern flashed through her eyes for a moment before she realized it wasn't him bleeding, and with the dip of his head the words came from him, and Brightpaw shot up, ears pinning to the back of her head as shock rushed through her. "Wh-what?" It was soft, the first words that came from her as she tried to fight back the tears - a warrior didn't cry, not in her mind, and she had already cried enough the past few days - but as her mind whirled as she tried to process the information the tears began to fall anyway. "What happened? Where is he?" She barely got the words out when Duskpool spoke once more, and it took a moment for the words to process but once they did she took a step back.

I killed him.

Tears of grief turned to anger as soon as the words hit her, and she shook her head, claws digging into the dirt as her fur rose "Why? Why did you kill your own brother? How can you call yourself a SkyClanner and kill your own clanmate, your own flesh and blood? Why are you in camp telling me instead of leaving and going somewhere where killing is allowed huh?" She was shaking as she stepped forward, getting into Duskpool's face, practically spitting the words out at him.​

 

[SLATESNARL]

// cw somewhat graphic mentions of death

It's not difficult to miss the stench of metallic ichor wafting inside the walls of camp, as well as the sticky and wet hairs that covered the older male's paws as he approached the apprentice and addressed her directly. Slate immediately makes it his business to get to his paws and stalk over, gruff expression centering in on the older warrior as he outright admitted to killing a fellow clanmate.

Dulled amber eyes light up with surprise, as such a blatant confession was unexpected from the solitary tom who never had a tendency for drama of any sort. The lead warrior's immediate reaction is alarm, hackles raising and bristling as he forces himself into the situation and steps forth to address Duskpool, "Explain yourself ─ and quickly." The brute gritted his teeth. Slate would have no issue "dealing with" a cat who murdered for pleasure, just as he would have liked to join Thistleback in delivering justice to SkyClan's prisoner, Kuiper. However, he is aware that the full scope of the situation is not yet clear and that Duskpool should be afforded a second to speak for himself. After all, he was blatant in telling Brightpaw the truth about her mentor's demise, which Slate found rather peculiar.

Still, the Maine Coon's patience was ticking down. Death was a serious occurrence in any context, and time should not be wasted when there was a clanmate's body rotting away somewhere on the outside of camp.​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

“Stand down, Slate.”

Blazestar’s jaws ache when he finally lets the thick black and white scruff of his dead warrior go. Shadowfire’s body is still warm, the blood leaving a burning trail behind the SkyClan leader. The dead warrior's eyes are sightless, glazed—but the Ragdoll likes to think his spirit is here, watching his grieving kin, the cat who had put an end to his suffering and the apprentice who fights for his honor.

He is so tired of the endless death. He is so tired of burying his warriors.

“Shadowfire was injured gravely by one of the… the fire sticks that Twolegs carry.” He stares at the cat he’d dragged all this way, his paws tingling with numbness, with exhaustion. “He was dying slowly… Duskpool gave him a merciful death.” He swings a morbid blue gaze Slate’s way, pleading with the lead warrior to understand. “He was dead the moment the Twoleg hurt him with that sick.”

And Brightpaw—oh, her anger is strong, but Blazestar only looks at her with grief weighing him down. “I’m sorry, Brightpaw. He’s with StarClan now.”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The obsidian-furred tom barely flinched, torn ear flickering as she got closer, nearly spitting out acidic words from a sandpaper tongue. He gave a languid blink, watching the she-cat with hidden sorrow, covered behind an air of indifference despite a red-rimmed hue and tear-stained cheeks, rubbed raw from their walk towards the camp, mind clouded with whispers of what-ifs and hallowed promises of things that he couldn’t hope to control.

He deserved her harsh words that tore at his heart, threatening to rip out from his chest, sadness pooling into his churning gut at the harsh implications. To leave SkyClan? He turned a hallowed gaze to the nursery, barely seeing a peek of dual-toned optics against ghostly black before they met that of Slate, nearly a hiss spitting out, to explain. Duskpool blinked, shaking his helm. What else was there to say? He murdered his brother, an act of mercy, but to him, it was as good as someone killing for pleasure. He did that. He sank his teeth into Shadowfire’s throat and watched the last drip of light leave his eyes until they were soulless. Although he had not been the one to kill Smokefang, Duskpool couldn’t help the swirl of guilt weighing heavily on his heart.

His helm pivoted, watching Blazestar drag Shadowfire’s body through the bramble entrance, paws nearly threatening to pull from beneath him until a molten gaze snapped to meet that of his leader. His expression flickered, pain dancing through molten copper as a bitter laugh escaped his maw, cold and lifeless.

Shadowfire’s life was cut the moment upwalkers came into the picture with objects familiar to the tom, with their familiar reverberating boom that spoke of death. An uncanny sound that took away his family. His brothers. He pressed a paw against his throbbing helm, biting back a hiss. Perhaps what he did was merciful, but it was all the same in his eyes. He was a murderer, no matter how justified it was.

He saved his brother the suffering, unable to listen to the choked wheezes that rattled his brother’s chest. There had been no hope for his brother, but a sight he nearly grew numb to during his younger days, it wasn’t any less heartbreaking. To have it happen to his brothers? It brought a far greater grief than Duskpool realized. It hurt. To realize that Shadowfire had tried to reach Smokefang, but met a far harsher fate. He shifted his gaze, expression deadpan despite the raging turmoil running rampant through his head.

He wondered, for the slightest second, what would have become of him if no one had been around and for a split second, as selfish as it was, he would have been alright with being driven out. No one else needed to be tainted by blood-stained paws and a heart so black—undeserving. He deserved their scorn.

With a sigh that rattled his chest, Duskpool stared at Brightpaw, bowing his head to the apprentice on unstable paws. “I’m at fault for much of this as the upwalkers.” He rumbled, voice hoarse, unlike the steady rumble that many associated him with. He was tired, turning to stare at his brothers’ broken frames with silent revelation because this could never happen again, even if he had to pull away from those he’d grown to trust and see as family. “Shadowfire—” He paused, brow furrowed before sighing, shaking his helm. I’m sorry. He thought, expression indifferent. ​

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thought speech​