sensitive topics blood upon the snow — private

[MASON]

you save everyone but who saves you ?
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He breathed shakily, glancing at Keane following closely, pelts brushing against one another as they moved swiftly through twolegs place—a comforting, grounding presence for his throbbing heart. He knew. He wouldn’t be in their lives, unlike how a father is supposed to, and the thought hurt, but he would gladly swallow those emotions to keep them safe from their mother, Chi. He couldn’t risk it. That was why he sought Duskpool, knowing they’d be safe, away from Chi’s bloodthirsty grasp, or risk more death in this forsaken family.

His azure hues flickered over his shoulder, heartstrings tightening, just waiting for Chi to jump out of hiding and spew threads that would bring pain to the kits and him. Keane rumbled, urging the black-furred loner forward. If he hesitated now, then everything would be thrown into ruin. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but he will ( eventually ). He grunted through a mouthful of fur, still wrapped in the last few wisps of milk that clung to his child’s fur—a scent that would soon vanish the second he handed them across the SkyClan border. “Almost there.” He rumbled, chest vibrating against the low, raspy timbre, azure-tinted hues narrowing.

It had been an agonizing process, waiting for Chi to slither out of her nest, giving them ample time to bolt with the two kits, only days old, scooping them up into their maws, the duo bolted, leaving Kavan to handle Chi. His heart gave a painful squeeze, waiting for Chi to try anything to Kavan. He chuffed, willing his palpitating heart to settle, to calm the fuck down, but the command was futile until his kits were tucked safely in SkyClan’s camp, far out of her reach. He’ll deal with the consequences. He wasn’t some weakling. He can handle pain.

He was a monster, wasn’t he? Little monster. Chi called him. It was only fitting, after all, didn’t it take a monster to understand another? He grinned bitterly, muffled save for the crinkle of azure-tinged hues.

Nearing the border, Mason’s tail shot forward, halting Keane’s tracks with a low rumble, urging the torti to settle the mewling kit with its sibling, nose pressing into their milk-ridden fur with a rumbling sigh, shoulders curling to shield them from harsh realities. You’ll be safe soon. He thought, a promise against all else. He will make it happen, even if he has to kill Chi. He will. He would do it in a heartbeat if it meant keeping his family from harm, even going to the lengths of tearing himself apart. Nothing mattered more than keeping his family safe and alive, even if he could never see them again, whether death took him, or because the borders separated him from them.

He breathed shakily, glancing at Keane who remained silent, expression settled in a grim reminder nearly making the loner snort at their predicament. Some life we have, huh? He thought, sarcasm dripping with each word.

@DUSKPOOL @Chi @KEANE @Deidre @halimede @BEETLEBACK ​

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[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Beetleback hadn’t been his first choice, perhaps that was what led him to ask the younger warrior, offering the bare minimum ( meeting his son at the border and bringing his grandkits to camp where they’ll be taken care of by pinebriar ) and prompting him to get ready at any notice.

He breathed tiredly, wooly fur in desperate need of a good groom was left to worsen as he slipped out of camp during the night, crossing the unclaimed border and meeting his son to discuss and provide another pair of helping paws. It had been tiring, leaving him to fall back into old habits, but he promised it would only be for a short while, just a little longer, he thought weakly. Then he’d take care of himself, but for now, he’d shove his needs to the back of his mind to collect cobwebs.

His tail flickered, urging the other to make haste, uncertainty well up in the pit of his stomach despite the deadpan expression he wore, confident in his steps despite the whirlpool of thoughts. “Keep yer eyes out.” He rumbled to Beetleback, tired hues shifting to the other briefly before they shifted ahead. Most of the clan had been turnin’ in for the night when Duskpool notified the other, expression harrowing with only the moonlight guiding them to the unclaimed border.

The older warrior paused, mangled ears perking at the familiar black pelt sitting hunched over two mewling kits, Keane sitting close had gathered to his paws, grunting in acknowledgement. “Kid.” He rumbled, stepping forward, wooly tail flickering, he rasped a tongue over Mason’s ear, sighing softly, he pressed his nose against his son’s helm, sorrow filling his heart. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” He muttered, stepping back. Should have never come to this. Mason merely hummed, staring at them with a contemplative expression, his grin bittersweet. “You’ll be able to see ‘em, kiddo, just gotta hold on a lil’ longer.” He muttered, glancing at Keane who huffed, ginning murderously. Duskpool held back a snort, instead shaking his helm in muddled amusement, pulling away with one last lick to Mason’s mangled ear, the smokey-furred warrior glanced at Beetleback, jerking his helm to one of the kits, “Best be gettin’ them to their foster mother before dawn.” ​

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[BEETLEBACK]

I suppose that's something worth missing some shut eye for, had been his thought when he was approached by the much older warrior and asked a favor. He wasn't quite sure why Duskpool would entrust this with him, but he supposed it was either last minute or that it was less risky with him. After all, Duskpool had more power over him all because of their age. In any case the blue warrior nods and replied "Sure. I'll help." That had been when the sun was still out and the clan was at its busiest. Duskpool had informed him to be ready and so he neglected to go on any patrols to save the both of them any trouble looking for one another. Eventually the moon rises and he wonders, What's the big deal? Did I get pranked? Naturally, he doesn't voice his complaints. If he's being punked by Duskpool he'll let the older warrior know it wasn't cool to make him loose shut eye for something that never arrived.

The good news is that it is not a prank and finally, Duskpool calls for him and the pair slip out of camp. He says nothing to the black tom, yet he notes their rattled demeanor. Something foul's goin' on. I dunno what it is, and I ain't asking. Dusky here looks like he might collapse from stress. I think talkin' to 'em might make Dusky here join the stars. The pace they had been going at wasn't fast and it seems that Duskpool has decided that they needed to hurry. As much as Duskpool tried to appear calm, the black tom oozes nothing but worry. Beetleback once again says nothing, only picking up the pace as Duskpool desired. When he's being addressed he can't help himself from quipping, "Trust me, I'm shocked they haven't fallen out by how late it is." Certainly not the best time to make jokes here. However, the blue tom keeps Duskpool's orders in mind as they proceed to the unclaimed border.

Yeesh, this far? Eventually the pair reach their destination. There are strangers with kits, So these must be his children and grand kits... Big family ya got here Dusky. He can certainly see the resemblance between all of them. Anyhow, the reality is that he's out of his element here. It's clear that this isn't a time for introductions and friendly greetings, nor is it time for asking Duskpool's family what kind of dad the older tom was. They don't even seem interested in me either. All he winds up doing is waving a paw at them. There's really not much for me to say here.

Amber eyes dart away, not wanting to look at a moment shared between father and son. He doesn't want to remember his own relationship with his own father. He doesn't want to hear of a doting father looking after his family in any way he can, knowing that Beetleback himself had kits. Kits that were apprentices. Kits that he was never close to and never tried to be close to. Nor did he want to remember his own childhood. Unpleasant feelings rise from his belly, but thankfully Duskpool snaps him out of it. "Oh... Right! Yeah! The sooner we bring 'em back the better." With that he moves forward to one of the kits. Heh, what a cute kit. "Don't mind me, just gonna grab this kit 'ere." While Mason and Keane would understand, it feels wrong to suddenly grab a kit without any warning of some sort.

Gently he grasps one of the kits, in awe of how light they were. They're... They're so small... Flashes of a pregnant Mottledove come to mind all alone and giving birth to four squirming bundles that may have been even smaller than this. Stop it Beetle. Focus. He has the urge to smack himself, but is reminded that it wouldn't be the best idea. Instead he turns towards Duskpool as if to ask if they should head out now or if the older tom wanted him to go on ahead.

 

[Chi]

i could tear you apart if i wanted too , hun .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

/ minor mentions of mental abuse

How dare he! That little! That! That monster! She snarled, whipping around to stare at Kavan who grinned sheepishly, taunting almost with a simple shrug of his shoulders. It was foolish to think he would stay while she slipped out, glad to be rid of such wretched creatures, but this … She wanted to rip him to shreds. She wanted him to bleed. She wanted him to whither in pain, to return what he had done to her. Betrayal. She grinned manically, staring at Kavan, always grinning, now remained stoic, staring at her heatedly as if daring her to run after them.

“You will not stop me. Wretched beast.” She hissed, teeth grinding. With an undignified shriek, Chi whipped around, chasing after her little monster and the very parasites she gave birth to. If he cannot stay, then she will take them away. Yes. She grinned, hues brightening in glee. Didn’t I warn you, little monster? She thought. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all three of you. If she can’t have it, then no one will.

“Little monster!” She sang, following his wretched sent with a curious gleam, skidding to a halt, dirt kicking up in her wake. She huffed, chest shuddering with a sneer. “How dare you!” She shrieked, fur bristling. The cinnamon-furred molly stared at them all, Keane and Mason, a stranger holding onto her kit and someone who should have died long ago, ancient and disgusting. “You! You did this!” She snapped, staring at Duskpool. “And you! Drop that pathetic rat!” She directed her scorn to Beetleback, tail lashing. “It’s mine! It’s mine to do as I wish! I want them dead!” She spewed, green hues crazed.

No. NO! This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen! Mason would stay by her side, and if he thought otherwise, then she’d just threaten the kits. How could it be all wrong? How could this happen? She cursed, gaze wild. “This is what you do behind my back?” She whispered, tone accusing, staring at Mason. “If that’s how it’ll be then you can’t have them!” Her thoughts were chaotic, teeth bared, the cinnamon-hued femme charged forward, claws outstretched hoping to sink into the kit’s pliable flesh. She’d kill it! ​

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[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

/ brief mentions of gore, death, and minor injury

A flash of lightning was all it took for Duskpool to take action, muzzle wrinkled with a skin-nerving snarl rippling between bared teeth at the flash of claws intending to hurt his family. He had lost too much to grow content with life when life itself was a harrowing mission with no foreseeable end to its waning misery. He gained too little—what was left of his family was all he had left, nestled within a calloused paw held tightly against the fur of his chest, tucked away against life’s greatest misfortunes that the thought of losing more terrified him. Even death didn’t strike the same fear as losing his children, grandchildren, siblings, friends.

In the wake of things, Duskpool had little thought of sacrificing himself just to know that they’d see tomorrow, dull, but living. In the grand scheme of things that was all this old fool could have asked for. It was why he got back up, every damn time he lost more than what his flimsy heart could bear, hiding himself as he licked at injuries and favored bruises to bear life’s greatest tests. I’m still here. He’d think grimly, staring up at the sky with the taste of bitterness.

His teeth found purchase, supple flesh giving away to the taste of ichor lapping at his tongue and teeth. A low-guttural snarl rippled, vibrating inside his throat like crashing waves in warning, molten pools glaring viciously at Chi’s crippling anger, ugly and rotten. The battered tom found no empathy at the pain twisted across Somali features as teeth drove further, reaching bone with renewed vigor. The Somali gave a loud shriek, claws lashing out at his mangled ear and ripping the cartilage sending blood simmering to the surface, tattering the appendage even more. The pain was fleeting, coming in steady pulsating waves that did little to deter him from tugging at her harshly, sending the both of them across the border and into the nearest bush with loud shrieks and harsh, reverberating snarls.

His heart pulsed painfully, whether from the once low simmering anger to what it is now—explosive and ugly in its rawest form—or the deep satisfaction of the molly getting a taste of her own medicine. Both. His mind unhelpfully supplied. Irrelevant. He argued back, annoyance dancing briefly across scarred flesh. “You ain’t got the right.” He hissed, angry breaths coming out in quick puffs against her ear, muscular frame pressing her further into the ground with fiery hues. She hissed, spitting words that fell on deaf ears, claws ripping obsidian fur from underneath him, but no blood rose to the surface.

She wiggled, using her lithe frame to slip out from beneath him, crazed hues landing on Mason’s stiff form. In a split second, Duskpool had lunged, teeth sinking into pliable flesh, spilling ichor into his mouth with a nauseated twist of his guts, the molly laid limp.

His chest heaved, nostrils flaring in tandem with his quick breaths letting his gaze flicker. “Go.” He ordered voice leveled, offering nothing, but the steady pulse of his voice. “Keane.” He rumbled, jerking his helm toward Mason, molten hues softening the tiniest of fractions at the wide, soulless expression the dark-furred male wore. “It’ll be alright, kiddo.” He rumbled. I promise ya that. “Get him out of here. I’ll deal with the body.” He rumbled, glancing at Keane for confirmation. He watched the tom nudge Mason away with grim satisfaction. He sighed, turning to Beetleback with a swish of his tail. “If it’s an explanation ya want, you’ll get it with the rest of ‘em but for now, focus on bringin’ these here kits to camp.” He rumbled, scooping the remaining kit and marching forward with the mewling kit in tow.​

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