camp BLOOD ON OUR HANDS 𓆟 nest sabotage

[FISHFACE]

Those ShadowClan cats were something else! To give an apprentice a bad time, and then threaten him with violence after he tried sticking up for her - the sheer nerve of them! There'd been three of them on his case by the time all was said and done, and while the discomfort he gained from the encounter still weighs upon his mind, Fishface doesn't regret it for a heartbeat. Nobody treats his clanmates in such an impudent manner. Especially not Ashpaw, or any of the younger Riverclanners for that matter.

With the gathering finished, and all subsequent discussions back in camp having ended, the gawky tom withdraws to the warrior's den for the remainder of the night. Inklings of how he could've better handled those scumbags play on repeat in his mind, and, alas, his step isn't as attentive as it should be. For the moment, he'll pretend that he didn't just jumble up the den's reed-woven barrier. He can fix it after he catches up on his beauty sleep.

Heavy eyes, nigh on the verge of shutting, guide him to his nest. Before he can lay down, however, he must first complete his nightly ritual of kneading into the material, using his forehead just as much as his paws in the process. It is only after then can he tuck in for the night.

There hadn't seemed anything off about his nest, visually speaking. But the moment his rump eases itself onto the mossy mound, pain pierces through his flank!

"Miaoooow!"

Scrambling, kicking up both dirt and bedding, Fishface zips out of the den. He comes to a skidding halt in the snow a smattering of fox-lengths away, and promptly goes to town with his tongue on the prickling spot. The shock of it all upsets him just as much as the pain. Who would have done something like this? Is he bleeding? Or worse, dying? A bajillion questions flood his brain in the heat of the moment.

Betrayal. Treachery. Things he would expect from dastardly ruffians, not his own clanmates.

A knot brought on by his anguish swells in his throat. It stands in the way of the words he'd like to say, and thus all Fishface can do in the moment is gaze joylessly at his nest - and the mess that he's made.

His butt hurts. ​

 

[vipercry]

---

vipercry
23 moons - riverclan warrior - speech​

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮



the gathering had left vipercry sulking endlessly. as soon as she arrived at camp, she was the first warrior to retire to her nest while the rest of the clan discussed the recent happenings. all she wanted was to sleep and forget anything ever happened tonight. hopefully her anger would pass by the time she woke.

vipercry had just about slipped into a dream when a pained cry broke through the silent camp. she must have been in her nest for only a half hour, and already she was rudely awoken. waking an already upset and angry molly spelt trouble for the perpetrator. even worse, the sound came from within her own den. as if on her last straw, vipercry stormed out of the den after fishface with a sour look. "what the hell's wrong with you?" she demanded, eyeing him carefully. was he bleeding? the molly's frown loosened into something of concern. "sit on something you weren't supposed to?"


╰── ⋅ ⋅ ───────────────── ☾ ───────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

༶•┈┈⛧┈★ i hope the sky falls one star at a time

---

 

[Snakeblink]

Although he had not gone to the Gathering, Snakeblink did stand vigil until his clanmates' safe return. The news they brought back with them kept him awake even later into the night: despite the fatigue tugging at his bones, his mind has too much to chew on to rest peacefully. The new rule doesn't mean much to him, but the conflict centered around Shadowclan's former medicine cat does.

He's getting bleary-eyed and considering calling it a night despite his brain's restlessness when a shrill cry pierces the silence. He all but jumps out of his skin, and his short fur is standing on ends when Fishface bursts out of his den as if a dozen Windclan devils are on his tail. He doesn't seem hurt, though, only peeved as he licks his backside dejectedly. Vipercry, already in a rotten mood since her return from the Gathering, seems more upset than he is – although that might be due to the rude awakening. Giving her a wide berth, Snakeblink comes closer to Fishface to peer at the sore spot he's nursing.

”Did you... injure yourself somehow?” He asks with some concern.

ooc. information.

• 
  
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 36 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[iciclefang]

( *+:｡.｡ ) The young tortoiseshell has a lot to think about since returning from Fourtrees. Of course, the law about cross-Clan lovers means nothing to her; she couldn't imagine such a thing, and though she does feel sympathy for ThunderClan and SkyClan, she can't help but feel they dug that apprentice's grave with their own paws the day she'd been conceived. The law is inconsequential. It's what Pitchstar and Sharppaw had said about Bonejaw that rings in her ears still. How hostile the ShadowClan deputy had gotten about her. The word traitor resounds deeply in her brain.

She's headed towards the apprentice's den, but before she can, a blur streaks out of the warrior's den, his yowl piercing the heavy silence over RiverClan's camp. Iciclepaw's ears flatten. "What in the name of StarClan is your problem?" She blinks sleepless blue eyes. "Snake in your nest, or what?"​

( I HAVE THE ANSWER, SPREADING THE CANCER ; YOU ARE THE FAITH INSIDE ME )

 

[RAVENSONG]

That gathering had been Ravenpaw's first. He had heard his name called by Cicadastar among the other newly minted apprentices. And that was the only thing he liked about it. He had hung in the back, aloof and distant as he had always been. After his brief flirtation with loyalty and determination after the WindClan attack, it all came crashing down. The clans surely thought of them as fools for accepting not one, but two cats who had left their clans. One them allegedly a liar. He hated that he was even trying to care.

So to say he was angry after the gathering was an understatement. Angry enough to not think rationally. His father had always scolded him for that. Told him he was better than that, so be better than that. Well, perhaps Ravenpaw didn't want it.

He raised his head when Fishface raced out of the warrior den, right on cue. Ravenpaw did not feel any glee at it, sadly, though he found himself wishing he did. The truth was that maybe a sharp little fishbone had somehow gotten into the warrior's nest. Ravenpaw secretly collected them. That and quite a few spine pieces. His blue-green eyes flashed, watching for now.​