BAD BLOOD [ overheard fight ]

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) she can tell something is wrong when cicadastar stalks towards his makeshift den. he is not the warmest presenting tom, but his eyes crackle with blue fire, his legs tight, muscles coiled as he hisses behind him. buckgait, come here. gleich. worry immedietly begins to pool at the lowest pit of willowroot's stomach. the leader's voice is chipped ice, curt and cruel, and as he stalks and disappears into his den, green eyes flick to her friend, her sister, whom she is sitting beside, attempting to groom some of the dampness from her pelt. as buck stands and follows the leader into the shadows, willowroot gnaws unknowingly on her lip, only stopping as a small drop of crimson colors her tongue. wiping the blood away, she'll stand as well and pad closer to the den.

this, she knows, is a long time coming. whatever is happening in that den is nothing good for buckgait. she's sure cicadastar is taking some gratification in this- his voice rumbles from the den, words unclear but meaning all too plain. half of the lead warrior's heart is cracking, chipping slowly like too-thin ice, a dull anger and confusion tightening her chest as she listens closer. the other half is pulsing quickly, hot. hisses spray from the shelter, growls following and harsh words; "what reason-to keep- you must be out of-mind..." it continues this way, and the lead warrior listens and tries to pretend like she isn't.

the sky above is hazy with rain, and it falls on flattened ears, silky charcoal coat darkened with damp as a chill sets in. "you- join - family again- raccoonpaw and boarpaw seem- happy- depart." and now her chest is fully aflame. this man, intruder, cruel and cunning, using her family to drive out what is left of it. how dare he, this tomcat who knows nothing of their history... knows... no. he knows. he does, and he says it anyway. willowroot's lip curls, paws shuffling, tail tip tapping the sodden earth as she tries to breathe. boarpaw, raccoonpaw, both gone, absent from clan life since before the flood. she's known for a while, she's felt their lack like a part of her heart exposed to the world. now cicadastar dares to mention their names?

she hopes buckgait chews him out, hopes she swipes a claw across his scarred, cruel face. he dares... he dares!

she wants to scream, to tear into the den herself, but she can't. willowroot is a lead warrior of riverclan, and she's made sacrifices for her position. cicadastar is, stars damn him, right in this circumstance. he speaks only the truth, as hard as it is to accept it. she cannot do anything, not even while her pseudo sister is called into exile. thornsharp claws pierce the earth, and the smoke sits, still as stone.
​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )[/BOX

 

[SMOKESTAR]

He is just returning to camp, minnows in his mouth to deposit on the pile when a sharp shout nearly startles him to drop them though he catches himself and swiftly moves to unburden himself of the prey before investigating. At a distance in the sloppy makeshift den he can see Buckgait's cinnamon form blocking most of the inside where she sits but there is no mistaking the scattering of black and white shadows just past her; the boom of an irate voice he has only really heard at gatherings. Cicadastar has always been flashy in public, loud and boisterous and shrieking as though lost in madness, most of it was a show to maintain his audience, to keep focus upon his words. That he is doing this with no audience by the silent deputy is...unnerving. It's not for show this time, this is no display of his presence of authorty-it is cold and biting fury; and so he thought the winter winds had left them only to feel it creeping forth from the dappled tom's den now instead. What had happened?
Single orange eye sweeps the camp, most their clanmates have had the sense to go busy themselves elsewhere or go hunting apparently but he spots Willowroot hunched over sat and shaking, her claws leave marks through the dirt like scars and he wanders over to place a tail gently against her back in greeting.
"...what happened?" What had lit these fires? Set the river king ablaze in outrage? He wishes he could see Buckgait's face from here, to gauge an idea of the discussion but he is not so foolish as to approach closer than he already is sitting alongside his fellow lead. Smokethroat will not deny he has no fondness for Buckgait at all, he tolerates her and respect her position but he does not respect her, so his mind immediately assumes she is at fault for something. He has no idea what though, if he had to guess she called Cicadastar stupid in front of the clan again and he overheard but that feels too simple and petty for this rage and they all knew Buckgait was just...rude to everyone. Unless you were a kitten or kin. So what then?
The dark tom shook his head in uncertainty, wondering if he shouldn't guide Willowroot away to go fishing rather than continue to sit here and listen to this disturbance in a temporary camp far too small to hold all this animosity.
​

 

[iciclefang]

She is good at minding her own business. Even at Gatherings, even when listening to their SkyClan allies chatter about this Clan or that Clan, Iciclepaw lets it roll off of her like riverwater beading away from tortoiseshell fur. If it doesn't concern RiverClan, it doesn't concern her, is her general philosophy; and inside the camp, if it doesn't concern her immediate circle, it's not for her ears.

But Cicadastar and Buckgait's argument is partially publicized by their abrasive voices. She looks at Willowroot, stony but clearly stressed by the argument, before her pale eyes flutter to Smokethroat. He asks Willowroot what had happened, if anything, and Iciclepaw wonders. Had the deputy said something flippant to their leader? She doesn't know, but her ears are pricked, alert and interested. She drifts toward her mentor, a placid expression keeping her calm. "We shouldn't sit here listening," she mutters to anyone who might hear. Still, her paws do not move her -- they are stuck where she stands.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[koispots]

Somethings wrong. Something is very wrong as Cicadastar verbally drags her mother-figure in to his den. And suddenly it feels like the air is too heavy and theres muffled screeches, growls, spitting. Today was supposed to be a good day, she would have went out to grab some new-leaf flowers for Buck and Gloompaw and she'd return happy. And she'd... She'd be happy. She's not even sure what they're fighting over, Buck had been nothing but kind and Koi refuses to believe she had been anything but. The woman was strong, someone Koi admired so deeply. She stops in her tracks as she spots Willowroot. Were they listening too?

And yet he dares to bring Raccoonpaw and Boarpaw in to the equation. And Koi's shitty façade cracks as she watched the lead warriors face for any emotion. She had not been close to them... But she has heard stories, and she knew Willowroot and Buckgait were close to the dearly departed. Koi cannot help the anxiety that only pools within her stomach. She understands she lacks understanding of the situation itself but her mind refuses to believe it, refuses to rationalize the fact that the one adult she had felt truly comfortable with is getting screamed at like this. Internally she wishes it was all just a misunderstanding, that Cicadastar and Buck just got something wrong somewhere.

"Are... you okay...?" she manages to choke out as she stares at the smoke, incredulous. Wide eyes mist over and Koi just barely suppresses a shuddering sob. Must be hard. She wants to follow up but she has to turn her head to stop herself from releasing tears. She just... Wants nothing more than to curl in to Buck's side. Smokethroat's voice reaches her ears and... she isn't sure what caused this, either. Cicadastar had pretty much always seemed so calm and collected. What did she do? Why? Why? But her mind comes up with nothing, draws a blank. "Not sure. Uhm. They just went in there." she isn't sure when the other lead warrior had approached, staring at the earth below. He'd be more comfort to Willowroot anyways, and if neither of them knew what sparked this... She finds herself afraid for Buck's security.

Like the currents themself, the River continues to take from her, eternally helpless to its flow. Koi wonders if its always going to be like this. If Cicadastar saw Buck like this, made a comment that she could tell hurt Willowroot, did he see them as trouble too? ... She hopes not. Koi thinks Willowroot is decent, and yet she tries to block everything out, pretends it doesn't exist. It's easier that way, to let the adults rationalize it. But you are one, now, don't you remember?

Koipaw just hopes both of them are okay in there. Iciclepaw says they shouldn't eavesdrop, but makes no move to leave and Koi couldn't agree more.​

"speech"​

 

[Riverwhisker]

Oh.

Oh dear.

There was a lot of yelling going on in there. Riverwhisker had been here since the clan was founded and he had never heard Cicadastar yell like that.

He looked towards the den with wide eyes, shocked. He couldn't continue eating his fish. This had his full attention.

Iciclepaw mentions they shouldn't be listening, and he has to disagree. If they wanted privacy they shouldn't be yelling for everyone to hear!! Jeez!! What if there were kits trying to sleep!!

"A bit hard to ignore them when Cicadastar is yelling like....That...." He said.

He supposed he could try to ignore them..... But like..... He was already invested? He wanted to know how things turned out??

"Should we... Do anything, or..... Just let it play out this way?" He continued.

If not he was tempted to just..... Go hunting. He felt an explosion coming. Plus, he started feeling awkward the moment he opened his mouth.
​

 

[CLAYFUR]

Returning from a tiring patrol to find a few clanmates gathered outside one of the temporary dens, Clay’s interest is immediately piqued. A few of the clan’s warriors, along with Icicle and Koipaw, are all painted in different shades of apprehension. The earthen tom strides over to stand beside the others, ears angled forth to catch what they’re all hearing. It only takes a moment of listening for him to understand what’s going on, and his mouth dips into a frown.

Ah, the clan’s leader and deputy are having a bonfire of an argument within the den. And the clan is… settled outside, listening in like a group of kits eavesdropping on their parents.

Riverwhisker asks whether they should interrupt, and Clay shakes his head. "I think we just let them get it out of their systems," he offers with a shrug. He likes Buck, thinks her a good friend despite her obvious clashing with Cicadastar, but he isn’t about to interrupt them. Not until the screaming settles down, at least.
​

[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[BEESONG]

the moment beesong returns from gathering herbs, he knows there is something awry. clanmates gathering outside a temporary den, huddled together with mouths moving in whispers that the healer couldn't hear. but what he does hear, is a painfully familiar authoritative voice screaming from behind the too-thin walls of the leader's den. he backpedals with quick, jerky steps. it's jarring, assailing the cinnamon tabby's senses until all he knows is the aching of his jaw that draws blood as it clenches teeth around his tongue and the pounding of his heart in his ear. it is almost loud enough to drown out cicadastar's voice. almost.

they realize, too late, that they'd dropped the bundle of herbs somewhere in the midst of their alarm. the sprigs of dandelion are scattered at beesong's paws—when did their paws start shaking? they inhale sharply and force their traitorous limbs to be still. cicadastar is intense and imposing by nature... beesong knows this to be true, remembers their king's fury illuminated in his glacial eyes under previous full moons or at the twoleg bridge they share with windclan. but this is different in a terrifying way; listening to cicadastar berate buckgait in the confines of a den brings memories of their father resurfacing from that dreadful pit.

don't just stand there. make yourself useful before you get yourself in trouble, too. that is the only clear thought beesong manages to think in this hurricane. his movements are sluggish at first, as if afraid that anything sudden would add kindling to the wildfire. he looks down at the mess of dandelions, breath rattling in his constricted chest, before he hurries to gather them up and retreat to his den. where he might be safe, doing something productive. he doesn't even spare a second glance at the eavesdropping group, too preoccupied with escaping rather than adding anything to the gossip. he doesn't think he would be able to speak right now, anyway.

a hum reverberates in their throat. a pathetic attempt to self-soothe.​

 

[Cindershade]

Lounging about with the skeletal remains of a minnow by her paws, Cindershade had almost dozed off in the sun with a full belly. She lay there, content, with shaded tabby legs splayed out to the side and her thick tail resting over her paws. She was so close to sleep—could feel the drowsiness pricking behind closed eyes as the buzz of camp was her lullaby.

But unfortunately, that drowsinesshad been ripped away from her.

Shouts sounded from the opposite side of camp, closer to the gorge that had her jumping up to her paws immediately. Her pelt was now disheveled and fluffed, velveteen ears flattening against the slope of her skull as she peered around. Everything had seemed fine; though, a gathering group of clan mates had settled outside the makeshift bramble of the leaders den. She stared at then for a moment as they whispered amongst themselves, being sure to keep quiet. Were they—eavesdropping? Cindershade scoffed, her chartreuse irises rolling. The nerve of them all and their prying ears, trying to listen in on Cicadastar's conversations. (Even if she could hear his voice from across the camp over the falls.)
The lead warrior's tail lashed, her expression twisting and crinkling her features into something of disgust and incredulous, not realizing her own paws stride across spindly grass in swift quiet steps.
Who was she kidding? Cindershade was just as nosey as the rest of them as Cicadastar and Buckgait's voice strained in a shouting match with the other. The molly creeps closer, acting as if she was being nonchalant about it. She acts as if she's checking on the solidarity of the walls, using a paw to pick at the tendrils before her. Her gaze creeps over towards the entrance, making out words every so often of Cicadastar. Willowroot sits there with a taut look stretched on her smoky face. Smokethroat is shaking his head, his mind clear in thought. Iciclepaw is frozen to the ground as well, ears strained to listen more. Rainwhisker mutters if there's anything they should do and Cindershade finds her head shaking. No—this was all festering for so long. It needs to be done. She silently agrees with Clayfur, still twiddling with the twigs as if she were doing something productive. Beesong was clearly taken aback from the situation, his bundles of herbs fluttering to the ground as they inaudibely gasp in alarm. Clearly it's struck a nerve. The woman doesn't say much to anyone, only waiting for what would happen next. Her tongue clicks behind gnashed teeth, ears sloping back at his booming voice. She could only hope this wouldn't end in bloodshed between the two. She prays they could push past this, to become the strong duo of leader and deputy they were, despite their differences.
​

[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]​

 

[ashpaw!]

Ashpaw sits close to her mentor.

She'd slunk in among the eavesdroppers a few minutes late, finding a spot to settle by Willowroot, a safe spot — she's torn between whether to press up against her almost-mother in an offer of comfort, or to give her space. Willowroot is so ... still.

Ashpaw doesn't know this pain, can't properly empathize because RiverClan is all she's ever known. Her sanctuary from kithood. She never knew Caraway, either — was nearly too young for memory the day Cicadastar granted warrior names.

She listens, anxious — her eyes flick up to Willowroot's face, seeking guidance on how to respond. Anger and agony flit over the smoke's face, and Ashpaw's panic grows, wondering who she's angry at — Buckgait, for this offense? For speaking out against the leader they're sworn to? Or Cicadastar, for scorning their kin...?

He sounds — so furious. He's screaming. Ashpaw doesn't want to be here anymore but she can't just leave. She has to know what happens next.

(She didn't know he could turn that kind of anger on a clanmate. Not except for — well, except for one long dead.

She's always known him as gentle — this scares her.) ​

—— " i found gold in the wreckage "

✦ ooc ✦ character information ✦ recent events

• ooc text goes here
  
  
• - 9 month old orange tabby with green eyes
  - apprenticed to lead warrior willowroot
  - crushing hard on iciclepaw
  - happy-go-lucky, mischievous, hardworking
  - very friendly, but defensive of riverclan!
  - "speech"
• - KICKED FOX ASS
  

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