camp BREAK ME, SHAKE ME, DEVASTATE ME [☾] MEETING


Night has quickly consumed the sun, dark gray clouds are thick in the sky covering the twinkling of the stars. Snow gently falls and lightly covers the camp as if to hide the evidence of the bloodshed and carnage that had occured. The frost could hide the blood, but it could not hide the fallen.

Warriors bring the bodies of Hummingbirdheart and Lynxtooth into the center of the camp. Cottonpaw who had returned not long ago from a herb expedition would soon sprinkle lavender upon their bodies and the clan would share tongue’s with them one last time. Fur of lilac lays cold and abandoned at the outskirts of camp, a light layer of snow already covering the body. There would be no one willing to brush it off, no one who would want to share-tongues with Lilacstem; the first of the traitors to get what they deserved.

The atmopshere is bleak, Sootstar stands on the Tallrock never feeling more alone. She falls victim to another traitor deputy, another back-stabber medicine cat and even more renegade lead warriors. Save for her daughter, Sootstar now stood alone in governing her clan. She has half a mind to not promote a new deputy, it only meant another cat would be put in a powerful enough position to betray her… but she needs support now more than ever.

”My most loyal of warriors… gather.” Sootstar meows from her stone throne, her voice carried easily over the silent camp. Everything had grown still and stiff after the storm, not a cat was certain what to do from here… Neither did Sootstar, but she could start with this. ”I am grateful for the support of you all. When you could’ve turned your back against me, killed me, you chose to stand at my side and fight. Your loyalty is touching, it saved my life tonight, this clan.” For without Sootstar WindClan would crumble. ”Thank you.
She dips her head from them, sincerity seems to drip from her voice.

”There is must we need to discuss together. WindClan will move forward and continue into normalicy, we will be as we always been, just void of vipers.” She hisses, eyes narrowing as she envisions the rebels fleeing from the sandy hollow. ”I’ve decided to get WindClan through this difficult time we need someone strong and youthful at my side. Someone with eager fangs and claws and barbed confidence. It is with them I hope to spread fear across the clans and solidfy WindClan as the strongest cats of the forest. Together we will reign with you, our loyal warriors behind us.”

Sootstar’s eyes wander to the raven, his green eyes staring back up at her with a fierce intensity. ”I say these words before my clan, for we do not ask for the blessings of any StarClan cat. The next deputy of WindClan is Snakehiss.” Young, some would call him inexpirenced. Yet Sootstar knows his parents well, she’s watched him grow and the ambition that lurks behind his eyes has been set aflame. Sootstar needed someone eager, someone young and excited for what a world of power had to offer them. Someone who knows that without Sootstar they would lack the credentials and capabilities to lead.

Snakehiss would serve her as deputy, young, vigorous, devoted, and most importantly, controllable.
  • >> @SNAKEHISS let us be evil together
  • » SootSootstar
    » WindClan Leader
    » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
    » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
    » Excels in quick, short moves.
    » Fights to kill and maim
    » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

-ˋˏ ༻☽༺ ˎˊ- The silver pelt of Juncopaw is adorned with fresh scratches, ones she wears probably, though unfortunately very few may scar. Though she never got into any grand spar like Sootstar and Sunstride, she felt satisfied in that she aided the side of battle that won. She fought diligently alongside her fellow true WindClan warriors, and for that she held a proud and strong stance as Sootstar addressed the Clan.

Despite her typically uncaring nature, she joins the rest of the Clan in sharing tongues with the two loyal warriors they lost: Lynxtooth and Hummingbirdheart. It was her first taste of death - she was boisterous and headstrong, as if she had experience behind her, but she's never been in a real battle. Juncopaw sat alongside Mockinggrin, waiting eagerly for her warrior name after all she's accomplished tonight - when it doesn't come, she can't help but find herself disappointed, and her posture slumps ever so slightly.

Not Snakehiss, she thought bitterly - she's supported him in his harassment against rebels in the past, but stars forbid that egocentric furball gets anything else to boost his confidence. Still, although her ears lower ever so slightly, she remains stoic through the meeting, sparing Snakehiss only a small subtle of her head in acknowledgement.



  • JUNCOPAW she/her, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, seven moons.
    an antagonistic silver tabby she-cat with green eyes.
    mate to no one. daughter to former gin rogues. apprentice of mocking-grin.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by ixora@.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
The snow falls, and it muffles the noise of the outside world, strangles it into silence. WindClan’s camp is cold, and even with all of its warriors present, it feels half-empty. Carved clean, stripped bare like a carcass left to bleach under the sun. Bluefrost pads toward the Tallrock in a daze, her green gaze sweeping over Hummingbirdheart, over Lynxtooth—and, briefly, it darts to the edge of camp where Lilacstem’s body grows cold. She makes no move to recover that corpse. It was left where she had fallen on purpose, and it will remain until the moor runners push it out for the scavengers to ravage. She’d died a traitor’s death, and she would have a traitor’s burial.

Bluefrost tilts her face toward the muted gray of the night sky. Frost decorates her lips, her eyelashes, and caresses the stinging wound wrapped around the tender flesh of her throat. Sootstar stands tall, her thick fur blown out by the wind. Her mother looks small, but strong, her pelt like the storm that hangs above them, her eyes snapping fire and fury.

It gives her a little solace—until she turns to seek her Clanmates, Clanmates she may never see again. Gravelsnap is not among those who scramble close to the rock. She looks for her littermates, for Sootspot, for Shrikethorn. She looks for Thriftfeather’s broad golden shoulders, for Whitepaw’s meek pale figure, huddled in snow, for cats who are not her friends, even, like Azaleafrost and Periwinklebreeze.

She feels alone as she searches. She has never felt as alone as she does now. She lifts a paw to her cheek, where Scorchstreak had shred the flesh. Her paw is as numb as the rest of her.

Sootstar begins to speak in earnest. She thanks those who remain for their support against the rebels, and Bluefrost’s emerald gaze sharpens as she drinks in those left. These are her only friends now, she tells herself, though the words echo inside a mind dug hollow. “This is my Clan,” she whispers to herself dully.

Another deputy must be named, her mother says. Bluefrost is tense. The only deputies she has known during her lifetime had been traitors—and it’s Snakehiss’s name who leaves her mother’s mouth. Snakehiss, who she’d known from her nursery days, black-pelted and bristling Snakehiss with a thorn-sharp tongue and sulky eyes. The young warrior regards the jet-furred warrior coolly, unsure how to proceed. He is too young, she thinks, but then—how could one be sure? Badgermoon hadn’t been too young; Sunstride hadn’t. Perhaps youth has nothing to do with loyalty, with competence.

After a few heartbeats, Bluefrost straightens her posture. Snowflakes spiral from the fur dangling from her cheeks and brushing her shoulders. “Snakehiss! Snakehiss!

It is the proper thing to do, no matter her misgivings.



, ”
 
Carnage has followed Granitepelt from ShadowClan to WindClan. He’d been surprised to see the Clan dissolve on itself, Clanmate facing Clanmate, blood spilling blood. In the end, half of WindClan had fled with the traitorous deputy, the cat who had cost Granitepelt everything and more. He’d watched them flee toward the Horseplace with narrowed green eyes, but there’d been little time to sneer and leer when the Clan needed to rebuild itself.

Sootstar had shown strength; he thinks about Pitchstar, who would have sequestered himself inside of his den for days after such a display from his Clanmates. He finds he does not know what Chilledstar would have done, but he remembers the taste of their blood on his tongue, and he does not regret pledging himself to the leader who stands on the Tallrock before him now. She appoints a new deputy, one Granitepelt knows only in passing from Gatherings and other border interactions—a skinny, slinking black warrior, about his age.

The slate-pelted tom gets to his paws, wincing at wounds threatening to re-open. The one near his eye is still particularly nasty—a parting gift from Smogmaw, he supposes. “Sootstar, I will follow you and the true WindClan to the end of time.” He adds his voice to the others’, loud and clear: “Snakehiss! Snakehiss!

He feels no particular loyalty to this new deputy, but Sootstar must have had some reason for choosing him. He wonders how it feels, to be given such power in the aftermath of such chaos.



, ”
 
Cool skies and chilly winds were the only visible sign of life in the bleakness of camp. Seeping deep into the Tunneler's already exhausted frame old blood cracked and hardened across his face. After driving out the traitors his health took a turn for the worse. A consequence of his reckless behavior, knowing the precarious nature of his body and taking on opponents twice his metal. Lying still near the mouth of the warriors' den, his fiery gaze was now a soft orange hue. Staring aimlessly to the sky as speckles of snow fluttered downward and the place where his ear once was throbbed with agony.

The familiar call of Sootstar filled the once-empty space and willed him forward. At the end of the battle, Harbingermoon felt a stark contrast in his mood. Compared to when the rogues had invaded, he had felt invigorated and hungry. Now that the fun was over and Sootstar kept her throne, the ebony tom was left to battle different demons. One that would soon breathe life and stir up a maelstrom of new fears. Something he prayed would go away, but knew better than to pray.

Dragging himself forward at the Queen's call, he sits by his lonesome. Unwilling to cozy up with Hollowcreek as he folds in on himself. Tucking the pudge of his stomach beneath fur and legs as he looks up. Putting on the air of stoic and dutiful with a proudly raised tail. Left ear adorning a new scratch to match his older markings. Intently, they watched on with silent reverence as Snakehiss was crowned the newest deputy. A small smile blooms and plays on the edges of the black-and-white cat's face.

They could smell the leader's intent from mountains away. Something malleable and inexperienced crafting the perfect soldier. He held no qualms with this decision and eagerly added his voice to the chorus. "SNAKEHISS! SNAKEHISS!" Twisting his earlier smile into a bemused grin. Not long before Wolfsong's diagnosis, his ambitions had been open and bottomless. Now tarnished by echoing mewls. Desperate for a distraction, attention tacked onto Sootstar's clear dismissal of Starclan.

With the lack of Starclan's involvement in the ceremony, his interests wandered. I wonder if she gets to keep those lives? If she dies, will Snakehiss be granted any without the magics of Starclan? How about Sunstride? These thoughts were a welcome distraction. Filling their mind as curiosity tingled in his paws. Expectant eyes looked to the crowd for the newest deputy. Leading the older tom to ponder what their reaction would be to the news.
 
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Weepingwillow had always been loyal. She'd always fight for her clan. But, even though she was torn between good which contained Sunstride, or evil, which evolved from Sootstar; the dark leader was who she was raised to protect. Even if deep in her icey heart, it shattered to see the clan split, and revealed emotions long since hidden.

Sootstar was their leader.

The grey and white warrior would have no other option but to fight to protect Sootstar. None of the emotions she felt was but to be confused, still brainwashed and still full of bitter resentment towards Sunstride. He was a traitor. It was as simple as that... right?

She'd give a small shake of her head, as if responding to the fact traitors were previously among them, planning Sootstars fall in secrecy that only screamed to her more. Traitors.

Icey blue gaze, under a curtain of grey and white would look up to Sootstar as she started on about the new deputy. Snakehiss. Resilient, young- it made sense that Sootstar would choose him. "Snakehiss!" One single loud shout among the many others.

Though... deep in her heart, she was loyal to Windclan, and any windclan leader... she couldn't help but feel saddened by the fact that the clan was torn apart- hidden by a stoic expression.


 

❀༉˖° Sootstar's voice rang through the clearing of the camp, filling the empty spaces. It was so barren now that Peonypaw felt uneasy - the lack of youth playing around or the experienced going about their days meant his ears picked up noises from further away, and he would've done anything to get the noise back.

There was no point in wishing for the impossible, though. His attentive eyes were on Sootstar as he clung to her every word like some sort of anchor in the wild sea. She was here again, as always, to make everything right again. Rattleheart had urged to betray her too, and as the sun made her gray fur appear dappled and alive, not just some unreachable tool at the head of WindClan, Peonypaw could've screeched at the sheer image of such a thing.

Never.

Peonypaw found he didn't find Granitepelt's presence unsettling in the slightest. He declared his loyalty to the Clan and Sootstar as if he had always been here, and Peonypaw was appreciative of another number supporting them after such grave losses.

"Snakehiss!" He joined in with the celebrations, eyeing their new deputy. "Snakehiss!"

Surely, this one would not follow his predecessors' traitorous ways.
°
 
*+:。.。 Steering clear of the battle had been as much a disappointment as it was a gift. Although Ebonylight had watched from the shadows of the medicine den, claws tearing into the soil as her tensed muscles begged to leap into the fray, it wasn't entirely unwelcome to sit back and watch the chaos unfold while staying carefully free from the carnage. She couldn't say she was entirely proud of her side of the war, considering it was two of theirs that had died instead of a flock from the opposing side's cowardly quails. Still, her queen had shown herself worthy yet again as she stood the proud ruler of a purged Windclan, clean of its traitorous filth. Admiration glows in his oddly colored eyes as she makes her way into the crowd.

At the revelation of the new deputy, Ebonylight takes a pause. She didn't know Snakehiss very well, but the similarly aged tom wasn't someone she particularly disliked. No, he'll be quite the deputy - much more trustworthy than Sunstride, and much less of a killjoy. Though his presence would not be missed, Wolfsong's certainly would. Ebonylight's mind is far removed from her passive shouts of, "Snakehiss! Snakehiss!" as she considers the future of herself and Nightingale's little ones, tail curling with a semblance of protectiveness around her belly.




  • GENERAL:
    Ebonylight
    DFAB— He/They/She — Pansexual
    16 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Mentored by X
    Windclan — Moor-runner (Loyalist)





    COMBAT:
    Physically hard | mentally hard
    Attack in bold black

    injuries: None currently
    Currently 1 moon pregnant!
 
They are a terrible few, WindClan's remnants. They had grown with time. The rogues had flooded their numbers, swelled their ranks to a tidal wave that would come crashing down upon any of their enemies. How fitting that some of them had been amongst those to lead their numbers away. But they were right. They were proud. The rogues that remained were as worthy as any other of Sootstar's chosen– how strange, though, that a ShadowClanner should count himself among them. Well. A ShadowClanner no longer, he supposes, but still his curiosity draws him near the slate-pelted tom, sitting just close enough in the gathered crowd to study his wounds and his expressions. There is something genuine about his declaration. There is quite nearly devotion in those few words. That and the striking similarities in the shade of their pelts....could they be....?

He will question it later. For now, Thornrunner allows his attention to be consumed by another revelation: Snakehiss was to be WindClan's deputy. Not much older than himself, if at all. Jealousy strikes true and then dissipates quickly. Like Harbingermoon, he comes to the conclusion that it was a play by Sootstar to find someone easily controlled. Unlike Harbingermoon, his ambitions have not been quashed at all; this is shaped by a quiet jealousy, and not truth. But he'll survive it regardless. WindClan always would. He adds his voice to the deputy's cry, icy eyes blazing hot as he grins.
EpC61GT.png

  • OOC.
  • THORNRUNNER. HE - HIM - HIS. YOUNG MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. SOOTSTAR LOYALIST. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ——————————————
    ——  a densely-furred yet sleek chocolate tabby with high white and several scars hidden within his fur. he carries himself with cocky confidence and a sharp cunning in icy blue eyes.
  • "speech"
 

Night finally arrives to shroud the remains of WindClan in snow-blanketed darkness. Dustwhisker welcomes its cold, welcomes the feeling of snow upon his whiskers - anything to ground himself after the blood-spill. To remind himself, after the chaos that erupted before darkness' arrival, that WindClan is still here - he is still here; the stars haven't taken him.

Unlike Hummingbird and Lynxtooth, their rebel-wounded forms cleaned, fur woven with flowers. Unlike Lilacstem, who lays nearly-forgotten under the snow, a kill he won't forget the stomach-churning taste of anytime soon. For once, it was Dustwhisker who held the ability to guide the stars, to tell them who to recruit into their deceptive troop. For once, it was Dustwhisker in control of the death that surrounds him.

They do not watch from above as Sootstar calls for a meeting, the leader's voice echoing from the emptied moors. They are a smaller group now, and it must be for the best: the rebels are gone and the moors still belong to the Moor Queen.

Dull eyes are bright as he listens to his leader, a head dipping in return to her sweeping gratitude. Another deputy must be named, Sootstar continues on with, and his head lifts with intrigue. Which of the remaining could she possibly pick? Which was deemed the most trustworthy of her loyalists? Anticipation builds, and part of him prepares to rise, to accept an impending offer.

It's an acceptance that never comes, as his leader calls on Snakehiss to stand alongside her. Dustwhisker can't help the way his shoulders deflate, the way envy begins to bite at him, as his mind urges him to look toward the crumpled pile of snow, stained red with drying blood. Proof of his kill, of his following of orders - it's there, but forgotten. Surely, it wasn't all for nothing?

Surely, he needs to rest, when the meeting's said and done. The battle has exhausted him, has left his mind faltering. Sootstar has a reason for this; she always has a reason. Dustwhisker straightens his form, lifting his head to look at the dark-furred tom. "Snakehiss! Snakehiss!" he chants, accepting the new deputy's promotion.
 
Cottonpaw feels different. As she joins the remaining WindClanners beneath the tallrock, she can tell the differences between herself and them. Many of them sport new wounds, many of which will most definitely scar under her ignorant care. Whereas she - her delicate, puffy pelt is clean of muck and blood. She does not need to pry tufts of fur from her claws or wash the blood off of her tongue. She missed the massacre and brawl, but at what cost? Her gaze lingers on dead bodies, recalling all she must do for them now without Wolfsong's help. And she thinks of the body not cleaned, not mourned, and her chest hurts. Doesn't anyone else feel for her? Lilacstem was their ally for moons, a WindClanner too! Her stomach churns with how quickly her Clanmates have turned on one another - and flips with the idea that she, too, is complacent with the desecration.

She hadn't realized who she settled near, paws chilled from the falling snow. It's Bluefrost, and for a moment she wants to revel in the safety that is her warrior sister (though she pressures herself to forget that there is not a black furred sister hanging about them, too, prickled with her own wounds to lick.) She draws a brief tongue over Bluefrost's shoulder as Sootstar congratulates and thanks her remaining army, but says nothing to the other. In time, her mother appoints a new deputy - Snakehiss. She does not forget her inner turmoil, her dread, her fear of consequence both of everyone but especially the tom she's devoted her heart to.

Instead, she just smiles. "Snakehiss, Snakehiss!" Cottonpaw cheers with the rest of them.​
 
Nightingalecry sits in tightly beside her lover, mismatched eyes holding onto Sootstar. Layers of fear and paranoia are masked by devotion, a false sense of loyalty to the queen herself. Would she have run with the others if she were in camp? She thinks yes, almost, if not for Ebonylight carrying their kittens. Does this make her as bad as the rest? She tucks her cheek against the charcoal tabby's, ears flicking back for a moment. Graciousness of bloodshed, pleasantries of violence. A new deputy, this one younger than she and certainly more molded in the image of the Clan as it stands. Is this the environment she wants to raise her children in?

A glance towards Ebonylight as the other chants Snakehiss' name, and she knows she has very little choice in the matter.​
 
The stench of blood makes the camp reek, though the snowfall acts as a blanket, attempting to bury the destruction that had littered the hollow. Empty, pale eyes stared at the cold forms of Lynxtooth and Hummingbirdheart; Snakehiss knew them, not well, but enough as a clanmate. They were completely gone, their souls off to somewhere else, though whether to StarClan or not he couldn't say. They had rejected StarClan, so where else was there?

He thinks of the rabbit lying dead on the Thunderpath. He keeps seeing the images of its bulging lifeless eyes and blood-soaked pelt completely flattened under the weight of a monster. At least its death had been quick. Had their deaths been quick? Did they suffer for long? Snakehiss feels sick.

"...you chose to stand at my side and fight." He wants to wince, as if pricked by a thorn, but he can only manage a pensive stare down toward the ground. He had made the right choice. Sure, half the clan was gone ( including his father ), but this was what he had to do.

He couldn't so much as look the Moor Queen in the eye—as she spoke of transitioning into a new sense of "normalcy"—and only wanted to plug his ears with cotton the further she spoke. Snakehiss had made the right decision. WindClan would survive without the others. They would persevere, and as long as Snakehiss kept his head down and did what he was told, he would get what he wanted. He kept telling himself this over and over, and yet... his chest and stomach felt heavy with conflict.

"The next deputy of WindClan is Snakehiss."

A bolt of lightning strikes his heart, sending waves down his spine and all throughout his nerves. His ears prick, as if he had just heard wrong, but judging by all of the eyes turning to him he knows he hadn't. "I-" For a moment, he doesn't know what to say. Snakehiss had not expected his name to be mentioned at all; perhaps he had always hoped, yes, but the possibility of being named deputy was the last thing on his mind at the moment. "Thank you, Sootstar..." He sounds taken aback, as if his feet were swept out from under him, completely blindsided. Snakehiss could hear his father's words now, as if he were growling in his ear — "Sit up straight. Hold your head high. Speak clearly. Don't make a fool of yourself." This was the biggest opportunity the warrior had ever seized to date; he couldn't look as if he were ungrateful or uncertain.

Composing himself, he arches his spine into a bow, his head dipped respectfully toward Sootstar. "You will not be disappointed." The thin-legged tom vows for the entire clan to hear, rendering his loyalty crystal-clear. To express any doubt, to even so much as flinch, would be a death sentence especially after a bloody and deadly battle.

As he turns to sweep his gaze over the crowd slowly, his jaw begins to draw slightly agape, utterly taken aback by the sudden attention. They were all chanting his name. Showered in glory and praises was he, a dream he had beheld since his kithood now coming alive. Snakehiss, deputy and future leader of WindClan.

This was all he had ever wanted... right?

  • gJTx1fs.png
    SNAKEHISS
    —— he/him; moor runner of windclan
    —— bisexual; single; not looking
    —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles
 

Sootstar smiles at the acceptance and is pleased to hear the clan burst out into cheer for their new deputy. He was young, there was certainly more senior choices out there, but expirence is not what she needed here anymore. She does not plan to give up her final lives anytime soon giving plenty of time for something to happen to Snakehiss. He would not lead her clan, her eyes flicker to Sootspots, Shirkethorn, Bluefrost, perhaps one of them… or maybe the youngest of her ruly boys will prove their worth before the day.

For now, Snakehiss satisfies her, and this role should satisfy him.

”You best not.” She responds curtly, though a faint smile still present. ”We’ve had far too many turn-tail deputies these past two moons. I trust you will stick by my side, Snakehiss. If you do, you’ll one day have all the power and support you’ve dreamed of.” She lies through her teeth without second-thought, she feels no remorse for her true intentions in this.

”Gooseberry, Hollowcreek, Harbingermoon and Sootspot.” Her eyes look across the four cats until they meet her son, a look of pride shone in her eyes. ”You will step up as lead warriors of WindClan. Your loyalty in these trying times have shone through the brightest and no one can doubt your capabilities. You will help Snakehiss and I bring WindClan back onto it’s paws.” She looks at them expectantly, not leaving room for disagreement, but only acceptance of the role.
  • >> @SOOTSPOT @Gooseberry @hollowcreek @HARBINGERMOON :)
  • » SootSootstar
    » WindClan Leader
    » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
    » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
    » Excels in quick, short moves.
    » Fights to kill and maim
    » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
Snakehiss was an intriguing choice for deputy, but Gooseberry does not question it for too long, joining in the cheers. He trusts Sootstar’s judgement, now that the weeds have truly been plucked. If he decides to betray them all like those cowards who fled, well, he’ll get what’s coming to him. Sootstar makes it clear enough what she will do.

And speaking of Sootstar, after the crowd’s voices die down, she calls for his name. His attention is immediately caught, ears perking up as straight as they can go instead of being relaxed. While it is practically ordered, he is appointed a lead warrior. About time, Gooseberry thinks to himself. He might not be at that much higher in the food chain, but it’s something honorable.

He bows his head respectfully, a proud smile forged on his normally dispassionate face. “Thank you. I will make you proud.” Gooseberry does not comment further, leaving it at that. But, his words ring true nonetheless; WindClan will become the force it should be all along, now with him helping to rebuild.​
 
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( )  Out with the old and in with the new. In Sunstride's place a child is appointed, one she shared her apprenticehood with. A petulant brat, a viper who she held little love for. Oh, her mother must be truly mouse-brained if she thinks he makes a suitable deputy. He has none of the makings, none of the valor, he would be a leader to be laughed at, not lauded. Shrikethorn's eyes narrow, but she cheers his name with the rest. "Snakehiss! Snakehiss!"

And then Sootstar's eyes catch her for only a heartbeat, trailing briefly between siblings, and something clicks. Does her mother see her, finally? She would certainly make a better deputy (a better leader, even; there are cracks in Sootstar's rule as much as she pretends there are not). Perhaps there is another intent to this choice. Biding her time. Snakehiss won't last, anyone could see that. A challenge of sorts, before declaring a true successor from among her family. Yes, that makes more sense.

Sootstar continues, calling the names of those most loyal. Gooseberry, Hollowcreek, Harbingermoon -- Sootspot. Ah.

Anger flashes bright in Shrikethorn's chest. Playing favorites, is she? Perfect little Sootspot, so obedient. They're not so different, why should he be the one to stand beside her? She grits her teeth, turns to him. "Congratulations, brother," comes courteous and taut from her tongue. She clears her throat as the char threatens to rise in it, and does not look to him for longer than she has to.

"Gooseberry! Hollowcreek! Harbingermoon! Sootspot!" She cheers their names like a good warrior, watches the tallrock distantly. She can bide her time, too. She'll wait for the day her name is called, her glory is realized.
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  • //
  • ˏˋ • ☄ SHRIKETHORN. WINDCLAN TUNNELER. SHE / HER.
    18 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SMALL WHITE MOLLY WITH ASHY GRAY PATCHES AND PIERCING YELLOW EYES.

    SOOTSTAR xx FLINT. LITTERMATE TO SOOTSPOT.
 
Snakehisse's response was to be expected, but satisfactory, nonetheless. He casts the new deputy an approving smirk before the drawl of the moor queen's voice beckons their attention once more. Zeroing in on the whites and greys of the leader, bemused by her hidden warning. It was true they needed a reliable cat in these trying times. With the way things went, he doubted another deputy would try their patience again. Mention of power causes a visible reaction in the warrior, his pelt frizzing at the idea alone.

Harbingermoon could always see excellent aim in power-hungry cats, just as he had seen in the colonies. A wealth of high-strung violence and amusement is plenty. He's willed from his little fantasy as their name graces the teeth of Sootstar's maw. Hollowcreek's name also passes by and his neck fluff doubles from discomfort. It tripled his earlier thrills, as well as his inner worries. What about the thing? We'll be working together more than ever! Gritting his teeth as they hunch down further into themselves.

Refusing to stand tall, as the others surely had. Dutifully, he still nods his head as she looks at him expectantly. There would be no disagreement coming from him anytime soon, not when power was something he too craved. But at what cost? Muting his roaring demons, the Tunneler crows back. "There's nothing I'd love more, Sootstar." He hums happily into the verbal promise. Ignoring the stabbing pangs from his wound. "You won't be disappointed." Their toothy smirk lingers as he bows his head to the ground.

Their face twisted with hunger and fear before softening as he looked back up to the surrounding crowd. No more mistakes. They will all be expecting more and the show would have to extend its climax if he wanted other's eyes off his problems.
 
( ) The tabby is still bitter, still pacing and claws flexing after his Clanmates struggle to act on what to do next. Part of Hollowcreek had remained in the battlefield, still waiting for Sunstride to strike him, still waiting for teeth to latch onto fur and tear. His bitterness doesn't seem to come from the results of the fight, though rather after they had all fled.

At Sootstar's call he pointedly does not sit beside the black and white tom as he had been for several moons following up to now. Instead he had settled beside Granitepelt, the ex-ShadowClanner revealed to be Sootstar's ally in their ranks. He had earned himself the role of a lead warrior in his original home and he wondered how much longer it would have taken for the pair to have plotted he become deputy next, then leader.

A shame it all fell to ruin from Sunstride's interference. They could have had a pair of strong warriors to match their possible allegiance. But it was all a wash now, they had to make due with what was left. Now with her entire council shredded to the name of a traitor, Sootstar called upon her Clan for those to support her as they had in battle. Snakehiss is chosen in position of her deputy, and he picked up rather quickly the differences he held between the last few. Personally, Hollowcreek believed he was dumber than either Badgermoon or Sunstride, but he could see the appeal in a blindly loyal idiot. Easier to shape into an ally that would believe the Queen was practically the stars herself. A God among them, and keep that belief in check.

His chants join the rest, and after they've died down Sootstar called for the rest of her council. Gooseberry, himself, Harbingermoon and Sootspot.

Himself and Harbingermoon. Hollowcreek kept his head forward, on the molly perched on the stone and nodded.

"'Till we're one with the dirt, I will always stand by you." Part of him hurts that Bluepool had not stayed. She could have seen him rise to greatness alongside her.
( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )
 

Warmed by their acceptance she gives the group a grateful dip of her head. She hopes they will serve her well… betrayal has shaken her council far too many times over the past several moons. Let this be a new era for WindClan, let them once and for all rise to be the clan she’s worked so hard for them to be.

”Underneath tomorrow’s moon you will all recieve your ceremonial scars to represent yourselves as lead warriors of WindClan. We will gather at Outlook Rock, make sure you’re there.” Sootstar flashes a look to Cottonpaw, she must be there too.

”Now tonight we rest, tomorrow the hunt for the traitors begins. I’ve decided… we will let go of Highstones- just for now. We cannot ignore our numbers have decreased and our priorities must lie elsewhere.” Perhaps when they ensured the traitors were gone for good, dead or fled from the forest, they can claim the land for themselves once more. ”That’s all. Get some rest, in the dawn we hunt.”
  • » SootSootstar
    » WindClan Leader
    » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
    » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
    » Excels in quick, short moves.
    » Fights to kill and maim
    » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 


We need someone strong and youthful at my side. Someone with eager fangs and claws and barbed confidence.

Excitement throbbed in the tom's head like the beating of an anxious heart. A silent 'me' was offered after every point, eyes full of wonder at the thought of getting what he deserved after so many moons of pandering to traitors. He took a step forward to take his place at Sootstar's side as she announced her Deputy, but when he heard the name, it was like being hit with the very thunderstick that had taken his mother's first life.

The next Deputy of WindClan is... Snakehiss.

The 'thank yous' he had rehearsed himself saying turned to ash in his throat, the chants of the sycophant's name rumbling in his ear like thunder. They were all pretending to be happy for Snakehiss, just as Sootspot had pretended to be happy for Sunstride when he replaced Badgermoon. Nothing had changed... nothing had changed.... Sootspot felt lion claws tearing at his heart, unable to make sense of his thoughts as they confusedly ran about seeking meaning in this betrayal.

'What was it all for, if not to train me to be you?'

He mouthed the other's name alongside his fractured clan, but found it was not out of congratulations, but pretending how he would speak it when he sunk his teeth in the black cat's throat. Sootspot heard his name from his mother's maw and his gaze flickered toward her, trying his best to look at the leader instead of through her. A smile pierced his muzzle, instinctual, and protective, and his tufted ears twitched at the announcement of his place in all of this. Lead Warrior. A consolation prize, but one that surprisingly offered to Bluefrost or Harrierstripe or Shrikethorn, but to him. Sootspot sat up straight and curled his tail around his paws. He thought his begging days were over, but if he had to accept a choice between meager scraps and starving, then he supposed the scraps would have to do, no matter the personal cost. "It would be an honour," he mewed pleasantly, casting a side-eyed glance towards Shrikethorn, a nod offered to his sister in gratitude.