AT THE SHADOWS WE CAST | fire at horseplace

[CELANDINEPAW]

Celandinepaw had seen fire before, contained within the rough-hewn hands of the hearth. It provided nothing but warmth and comfort, flickering from its perch in the fireplace.

Now, as she stared at it from the comfort of a burning moor, she did not recognize her old friend. The same companion that had trotted alongside her in winter's wreath now did not contain itself. Whatheat it once graciously gave now rolled off of it in waves, like the biting tides of an unforgiving ocean. The flames lapped at the wildgrasses crackling and roaring like a rousing salvo, though there was no honor to be fought against the fields that allowed itself to be taken. This was no absumption no erosion - it was quick, destructive, gluttonous as smoke climbed the once-blue sky. The young molly had accompanied a hunting patrol to salvage what little prey could be gleaned from disaster. Now, restless paws departed from her patrol, and wheat-tinged eyes only widened in the horror that reflected upon full moon curve. She did not see the barn ablaze, thank whatever lived in the stars, but the flames did creep awfully close for her comfort. The golden tabby stood as a mere smudge against the insurmountable power of desolation. She squinted, attempting to see some semblance of a pelt through the looking glass of miasmic horror, something to tell her that her folks would be alright. Nothing returned her worries, and thus, they began to fester as a sweltering wound did.

"I have to go in there." The statement came after many seconds dripping in leaden suspense, but it was full of her ebullient bull-headedness and her naive resolution. If she could just make sure her parents were alright, then that would assuage her anxieties, if only for a mere mortality of a second. Perhaps many of her patrol-goers would run back to their camp, but she would not go with them. "My family's in the barn. I have to make sure they're okay." Celandinepaw's words carried more curtness to them, as unusual as such acerbic tone was upon rounded tongue, as though urgency had eaten her up and left her with naught but the fuel of her own desire. Her terror had been plain upon her sunshine-hued visage, nervousness clouding the light in her gaze and spurning the smile upon her maw. She attempted to rush past the wildfire, but it bellowed back at her and blocked her path to the barn. With a hiss, she tried again and again and again - though only returned with slightly singed paws. "Help me get past this fire!" She yelled out of a careening desperation, turning her face back to whoever accompanied her on this patrol.

( Whoever replies next can be the cat she's talking to :3c )​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

There were too many coincidences recently and, between the swallowed sun and the flames licking the horizon, the non-theist had begun to suspect that his clan's tormentor was sending some sort of message. He'd held a wary admiration for the fires, watching them from a distance and ducking beneath the grasses to avoid the trails of smoke blown in every direction. His eyes glinted at the horizon again, his rare moor-runner patrol bearing fruit as the orange glow seemed to creep towards the barn. It was still some distance away, the idea further marred by the tunneler's weakened daylight vision but he stood tall despite it. Too many WindClanners had debased themselves by associating with the place, sleeping amidst the straw as if they were kittypets and feasting on mice that weren't even fit for a SkyClanner. He'd be happy to see it gone if only to remove the memories forged by such a place. Reds and yellows danced in the Tunneler's chartreuse gaze, a saccharine smile appearing on his muzzle as he moved closer to Celandinepaw. Even as the fires burned the territory he loved, he couldn't help but recall what came after such destruction. Ash, cinders... soot.

Tufted ears flicked curiously at the protests from the apprentice, his pupils coiling towards her. Her yapping was ruining the moment, but as the fur upon his neck stood, his frown warped to one ripe with concern for the young cat. "WindClan is your family now," he mewed, watching her run over and over again towards the inferno as if it'd make her the exception to its fury - even he wouldn't be so arrogant as to believe such a thing. His tail lashed gently behind him, eyeing the fear upon her features, hearing the desperation in her tone. Black paws twitched at the intrusive thoughts: it would be stupidly easy to push her into the fire, she'd gotten so close to it she'd practically allowed her feet to turn as singed as his own. He turned his head to see who else was around and, realising he may not have been alone as he thought, allowed his words to grow softer towards the apprentice. "Sadly, I do not know how to put out fires." Sootspot took a step back, the rise and fall of his chest as steady as one in slumber. "I am sure the Twolegs will rescue them, they do own them, do they not?"

​

 

[PINKSHINE]

Pinkpaw gets it. She really really does. But the fires too scary to just run past! Too scary and too hot. Celadinepaw knows it, because each time she comes back, her fur is ruffled and too-hot. But despite that, she keeps on going back. Pinkpaw watches dubiously, fur more tufted than it should maybe be... She's not sure what the right amount of afraid is.

Sootspot is always weird, no matter how hard Pinkpaw tries to like him. He turns around, like he realized that's weird to say. Pinkpaw looks back at him when he does, eyes squinted a little bit. " WindClan was always my family, but I got family there too, " Pinkpaw tells him, tail flickering uneasily across the ground. Ground that might be swallowed up by the fire, next time they see it...

And maybe it isn't her business... isn't her business to listen to, but Sootspot keeps saying wrong things. And Pinkpaw can't stand for it! Aggressively, she shakes her head. " Nuh - uh! No one owns Pollenfur! " She still had to be in there, along with everyone else... Pinkpaw turns to Celadinepaw with a pinched look. " But... I dunno what we can do... " A bit sadly, she mews; and she hates how her own voice sounds...

staring at the mirror gotta smile, smile 🌸🌷🦄🦩 don't be late, we got plans!

• ooc: edited tag so u probs wont see SOWWYY @SCORCHSTREAK

• 

• 
  ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW: APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
  

  SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  CURRENTLY 8 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH

  
  Pinkpaw bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
  
  HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pinkpaw is a very irrational and childish character!​

​

 

[SNOWGLARE]

જ➶ His own patrol had went forth to see where the fire was headed after Pinkpaw and the others had come back to tell them of the blazes. It had been a surreal experience to crest the top of the hill and see the smoldering burning flames where where he and Dimmingsun had stood. Watch the twolegs as they casually looked upon the flames with little care. It almost made him angry and even now watching the fire he is unnerved about it. But one thing is positive about all of this.
The fire moves away from the barn as Dimmingsun and himself saw. It's moving from there and sweeping across the moorland. He winces slightly at Celandine's words. Her very need to make it through those flames and get to the barn. With a small shake of his head he backs up just slightly. "The barn is going to be fine, Celandine. I promise. Dimmingsun and I saw it for ourselves." He hopes to give some solace as the pale tom looks toward the younger apprentice.

Despite Sootspot trying to correct about Windclan being their only family he finds himself in disaggreance. He too has family within the barn. Those of his blood and he worries greatly for their saftey but so long as the flames continue to burn away he can focus on protecting Windclan and that is his main goal.​

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

Windclan is your family now. Celandinepaw stood to face the fire, even as sweat beaded down her sunshine-shot face and as feverish flame danced along her whiskers. Through the sweltering heat, Sootspot's words burned through her more fervid and madding than the inferno before her. Ever since she had stepped foot in the new world, he had been there to string along her loyalties as easy as a faux mouse on a taut string. Bubbling, juvenile emotions enkindled at her throat, as the cinder-colored cat had been nothing but smug and haughty towards her, as though he hid intentions beneath mist-ridden pretense. Never once had she thought that her workfolk 'owned' her, but rather that they worked alongside each other. You wildcats have a strange relationship with our workfolk. Girasol gaze stared back at him, like they ran just as heated as the flames around them, aglow in the shame that consumed her. She couldn't describe it with her words, but there was something about the vulpine feline that disconcerted her...

"I agree with Blinkpaw." Celandinepaw mewed after a pursed silence, her intonation akin to a mere wisp of white cloud in the face of billowing smoke, quiet mote of dust against the greater canvas of tangerine and sunflower hues. Watching the fatal garden blossom and break, Pinkpaw mentioned a name - Pollenfur - that sounded somewhat familiar to her. Pollenfur... The calico apprentice was a bright light in the face of Sootspot's mired pessimism, at least. "My family at the barn will never be less important than my new kin at Windclan." The declaration came incandescent as she stared at where the fire lapped and lashed like the tail of a maniacal dog, a thing that could never be fulfilled nor quenched. Snowglare approached next, stated that he and her mentor had seen it fine for themselves, but mere idea of conceived safety was not enough. The image of her parents and her barncat friends trapped underneath the wings of a bowed and beaten barn had been too great. "Thank you, Kat, but I have to see it for myself." She leaped back and let out a yowl of pain as the hews of the fire nipped at her paws, as though she had narrowly escaped its jag-tipped jaws with nothing but singed ends of her feet.

( Pre-evacuation! )​