BUT HEAVEN, NO HEAVEN DON'T HEAR ME ✧ steep cliffside

[Orangestar]

𝐵𝑈𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐴 𝑊𝑂𝑀𝐴𝑁, 𝐵𝑌 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝑁𝐷 ✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀

• interacting briefly with @SLATE , no pre-plotted interactions for this event so feel free to ping :]
  
  
• 
  
  — orangeblossom | tags
  — she/her ; deputy of skyclan, mentoring eveningpaw.
  — scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes.
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — chibi by waluigipinball
  — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
  
  

​

From kithood, she's scaled the sunning-stump in what is now SkyClan's camp. As an adult, she's climbed just a few branches shy of Tallpine's highest bough. Orangeblossom has always been a climber at heart, and now, faced with this unique challenge, her eyes sparkle. The murmurs of conversation fade into background noise as she starts to take in the cliff before her, marked with weathered stone and rough surfaces. Bobbie's right. The SkyClanners could do this easily, though Figfeather would struggle with her injury. And then there's Slate ...

"Better than wasting time trying to find another way." She retorts to the burly warrior, eyes narrowing up at him as she leans into his space. It's rare she does this, rarer still that she tries to get him to back down. "Climb the damn wall, Slate. If someone dies, you can say you told me so."

Orangeblossom doesn't beckon a response, instead turning to her right and moving further down the cliff face. Her muzzle is pointed upwards, eyes searching for something along the stones.

"Where's the ..." She mutters under her breath. Long tail brushes the ground and Orangeblossom jumps, digging her claws into the stone. It's different to tree bark, rough and unyielding, but the clawholds she's found are of a familiar grip and propel her upwards. An impact to her left doesn't deter her, especially when the gasps of concern aren't followed by panicked yowls, but the little ledge she'd found comes sooner than anticipated. It's reminiscent of Highbranch, a few tail-lengths above the travelling pseudo-Clan. Orangeblossom balances precariously on its uneven surface, testing her weight on each of her paws until they hold, and then turns her eyes towards the gathered Clan cats below.

At the very least she owes this to Needledrift, who got them through the tunnels in one piece: dusty and exhausted, but sane. Orangeblossom makes eye contact with the ShadowClanner briefly, hoping that Needledrift would follow her up. She owes it to the RiverClanners too, who had held the bridge taut long enough for the patrol to cross the current safely. Discomfort aches in her teeth at the thought of the slippery wood, so different to rain-wet bark, but that is in the past. This is now. She watches the brown-furred RiverClanner begin his ascent by Duskpool curiously for a moment.

"Chalk and Duskpool are right. We take it slow, and if we have to wait out the night then we do so." She calls down to those who haven't begun their ascent. "There's decent clawholds and I can see a few small ledges like this one, so when you find those you can take a moment to rest. If you haven't climbed before, you will be sore when you reach the top. If you think you have the strength, follow me up and I'll find clawholds for you to hook onto as we go." Once they were safe atop the cliff, she'd come back down to help the stragglers.
​

 

[Needledrift]

Climbing is not Needledrift's strong suit. Her talents laid far, far behind them, way back in the marshlands with her apprentices and her bird's eggs and her mushroom hunting. But there were no frogs here. Tadpolepaw and Mothpaw were safely under Chilledstar's watchful eye and she... she was face to face with the clouds, the mountain snow, and... @orangeblossom. Warm mahogany eyes settle on her own for the briefest of moments, the smallest show of solidarity, just enough attention to give the ShadowClanner a little rush to follow.

Ungracefully does she propel herself upwards, her ivory claws scrabbling at rock, searching for some soft purchase that wouldn't scrape so unpleasantly at her callousing paw-pads. She finds no respite in the stone, even when she does pull herself to a resting spot. A crooked jaw pant escapes her, the stress of having to go up finally beginning to show on her normally jovial face. Oh, newt-eyes, this was actually going to kill her... ​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿ | as is to be expected, the reactions to her proposition are mingled—and part of that, she suspects, is these cats confronting that they must be led up the cliff by the "kittypets" they so despise. the ginger thunderclanner, a lead warrior if her memory serves her, directs her own clanmates in a voice steely with determination. this is momentarily reassuring, that is, until she hears slate's gruff protestations. he scoffs and snorts and glares, lashing his bushy tail and complaining for all the stars to hear about how they'll all die trying to climb it. internally, bobbie must suppress a snort, recalling the lead warrior's failure at skyclan's signature skill—she feels half-guilty for it, but she hope it burns him a little to think about.

the tabby's surprised but grateful to see cats begin to surge forward, disagreeing with slate and some beginning to parse out their own ways up the wall with her clanmates' help—even orangeblossom tells him off, which amuses her a little. as the cats group up, hailstorm turns to her and says he'll follow her lead. bobbie blinks in surprise that this cat wants her assistance, wants her to lead him, but gives a sharp nod of assent. "happy to have you," she offers with a hesitant smile, mewing wryly, "though you might blend right in with the wall. we'll get going in a minute, but—"

she squints. the other clans' groups far outnumber their small party of skyclanners, so she can hopefully kill two birds with one pounce and find someone else to guide alongside hailstorm. cats begin to find their assistance, some more begrudgingly than others. swishing her half-tail to hailstorm, she jogs over, careful of the slick ground underfoot, to the (rather haughty) riverclan apprentice who stares up at the sheer wall of icy rock with rather visible panic.

"mosspaw, right?" bobbie mews once she's reached the cat, and after waiting a breath for an assent, she nods decisively, "alright then. mosspaw and hailstorm, i'll buddy up with you two." the warrior turns a critical eye to the craggy wall—while its stony flesh may be less giving than a tree, it's ripe with clawholds and small ledges for her charges to pause on if they need. she fixes a piercing gaze on two nearby divots of rock, nodding and mewing, "there—you two can each grab onto one of those as a clawhold. i'll follow beside you and point out more places for you to hook your claws, and like orangeblossom said, to rest for a moment."

"i'll be a little ways ahead of you," she adds after a pause to consider, "in case, starclan forbid, one of you lose your grip or struggle, i can come down and help pull you up." bobbie blinks at the pair in as friendly a manner as she can manage under the circumstances, hoping they'll listen to her regardless of their views on her collar. the tabby leaps once more and grapples easily onto the wall, finding clawholds by sight, paw, and instinct. she glances at her charges and nods to the clawholds, mewing, "once you've got hold of one of those, reach to those little outcroppings above you and grab on. dig your claws in, even if it hurts, because the ice might be slippery."

she begins to advance upwards, slower than she'd be going on her own, one sage eye ever-present on the cats she was helping. an obstacle presents itself quickly—a windclan apprentice, hanging onto a ledge with his forepaws and scrambling to lift his hind legs up. for a moment she recalls her lesson with sparrowsong, them helping haul her back half onto a branch, and the small warrior makes sure every white-dipped paw is stable before shoving her shoulders underneath the apprentice's flailing hind legs and pushing up, muscles burning with the effort.

ooc ✿ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅

• ooc: helping @HAILSTORM. and @Mosspaw ; shoving @Mouseflight onto a ledge !!
  

• 

• 

  ( BOBBIE ) ✿ WARRIOR OF SKYCLAN.
  x she / her ; 40 moons.
  x mother to lupinepaw, crowpaw, & drowsypaw.
  x a small, pretty lilac tabby & white cat with a red collar & sage-green eyes ; sweet, sociable, and somewhat naive to certain aspects of clan life.
  x currently in an era of self-assessment and trying to figure out exactly who she wants to be.

​

 

[LITTLE WOLF]

Crossing the river had seemed an impossible task, but they had done it. She had thought that they would never get out of those caves alive, but they had. So far, no one had died and sure yeah there were challenges and close calls but she is determined that what they are doing is the right thing. "Perhaps StarClan is testing us" she murmurs quietly but she does not speak too loudly. The same cat that has been a thorn in everyones side this entire journey voices his discontent and before she can say anything several cats pipe in to remind him why they are here, to invite him to go off by himself if he really wanted. It makes Little Wolf smile a little, to see how everyone felt similarly as her. It would not be easy but could they really afford to go off and try to find a better way? She thinks of her son, her main motivation to keep going and she takes a deep breath. Shes scared out of her mind but she has to do it.

"Okay Little Wolf it's not that hard we can do it..." she has almost never needed to climb anything in her life. Her eyes instinctively search for Hailstorm and find that he is already being helped up. A relief is she is being honest. She was not certain how well he would fare climbing such a cliff.

Hesitant but determined, she starts going, digging her claws into rocks and gripping with all of her strength. The going is slow, and she quickly finds herself falling behind the others as she makes her way up the cliff with trembling limbs. "Just don't look down" she tells herself quietly

​

OOC NOTES . ✦ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — she will eventually be helped by @Cherrypaw !​
• 
  

  ➵ she / her
  ➵ thunderclan warrior
  ➵ mates with Hailstorm
  
  

  

  - - a small, black furred she-cat with short hair and green eyes
  ↪ toyhouse [ ✦ ]
  
  - - Little Wolf is a kind hearted she-cat who loves deeply and freely. She believes in living in the moment and isn't afraid to voice how she really feels about another cat or a situation. In her experience, life is too short to hold back and if you really mean something then why not just say it? If you get on her bad side or if you harm someone she cares about, she is the type of cat who would hold a grudge. She is a mother before anything else and although she is not particularly a fan of fighting she will defend her kits with the ferocity of all the ancient clans combined.
  ↪ ISFJ-T 'the defender'
  
  ➵ skilled hunter
  ➵ HOWLINGSTAR X GRAY WOLF; sister to Hollow Tree, Lily Pad, Cobwebtail, Graystorm, Raccoonstripe, Jackdawflight and Berryheart; mother to Fireflypaw, Burnstorm, Howlfire, Morningpaw, Moonwhisker, Skypaw and Duskpaw
  
  ​

 

[iciclefang]

The ThunderClanner Lightstrike makes a face beside her, his denial swift. “There’s gotta be a way around,” he says, a sentiment others like Slate of SkyClan bring up and parry around. Iciclefang cats a doubtful look to either side of the cliff’s jagged face, seeing nothing but stone in any direction. Fernpaw mutters that they’d said that about the river, and she blinks. It’s true. She watches—Mouseflight, a young WindClan warrior, says he’s seen some cats climb. Her own paws itch at the idea—like any cat, she, in theory, could climb a tree… but she’s never tried, because why would she? The willows in RiverClan’s territory are ill-suited, and she’s got no taste for bird flesh or squirrel.

It’s the white-streaked longhaired tabby with the collar ringing her throat who pushes the idea. Iciclefang watches with awe as she begins to scale the stone, her steps precise and movements deliberate. She inches her way up, and the rest of SkyClan begins to voice their encouragement. Her doubt continues to congeal in her throat, but she will not balk. If this is where their journey has taken them, Iciclefang will not turn back. She meets Chalk’s eyes aquamarine gaze, giving her injured shoulder a rueful look.

After a few heartbeats, she follows his lead. “You won’t let me fall? Argument or no argument…” Her paws find hold on slick, rugged stone, and she hauls herself up just slightly, “…we’re going to make it together, right?” She gives himself a look dryer than sand, but there’s a smile playing about her muzzle. “…Doable. Just tell me what to do and scruff me if I start slipping, please.”

Though there’s respect welling inside of her for the kittypet Clan, Iciclefang can’t help but look down after each transgression. Lightstrike plummets into a snowbank, and Stormywing, too, slips a fraction of the way down—the tortoiseshell tenses each time, relief pummeling her like duck wings when she sees both rise again. But when Mouseflight takes a gruesome injury to the face, she pauses, the fur along her spine beginning to fluff up. “Is he alright?” She calls to Bobbie, seeing the tabby haul him over the ledge nearest him.

ooc ✧ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦

•  
•  
• 

  — iciclekit . iciclepaw . iciclefang
  — she/her ; warrior of riverclan
  — lesbian ; single
  — short-haired tortoiseshell with white and ice-blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Pin

​

 

[FERNGILL]

It took them all a second, but at last the group seemed to reach the same conclusion that Fernpaw had- that going around was not an option. The Skyclanners were much more at ease than the rest of them- the steepness of it was so sheer that Fernpaw could barely fathom it, but perhaps to the pine cats it wasn't quite as daunting. He looked to each of them, becoming familiar faces by now; Figfeather was a face he sought in the fray a little more actively. From where he was he could see her struggling- and though Stormywing got to her first, helping her physically, Fernpaw could still offer her a bright smile of encouragement. They weren't going to leave anyone behind- Fernpaw wouldn't let it happen.

Bobbie and Orangeblossom called out their advice, flocking to two of the more lost-looking cats; and the ginger tom realised, then, that no-one had rushed to help him. It was an odd, oddly-positive feeling

He followed the lead of the Skyclanners, moving a little closer to Figfeather and Stormywing. Clawholds- right, the Skyclanners were finding the route. Fernpaw's lone eye follower them up, up, up, before at last he found purchase on the stone.

Never had he felt his muscles protest quite so badly. He'd never been strong, and was used to being that way; but this was a venture entirely new. Orangeblossom's warning that they'd be sore after finishing climbing was already doubtless. Fernpaw couldn't really fathom how he'd even manage to finish.

Miraculously, though... he managed it. Pulled himself higher, slow and tentative. His snow-socked back leg slipped a little as he pulled himself up, sending a few stray fragments of rock rolling down the cliff-face- his heart had lurched, but he was alright, and he was doing it. Paws slipped- but it was Mouseflight's injury that caught his eye the most, his face contorting into a grimace. An ear flicked to the sound of Iciclefang's voice- his watchfulness betrayed his interest in the same thing.

And in truth... he was a little stuck for where the next clawhold was.

/ hovering near @FIGFEATHER and @STORMYWING ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[batwing]

.i'll be your calm, —————————

————————— before the storm!.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

Climbing was never the easiest. Batwing had remained entirely silent, sitting at the back of the Thunderclanners with a cocked head. His paws were in decent better shape, and he seemed relatively okay since the last event. But this was a new level of something. Cats were attempting to climb, and fall- but the Skyclanners were confident they could climb up. Bobbie's statement may have stung, but the joke found his lips twisted in amusement. He had to agree there.

He wasn't as much of a fan of climbing as he was slithering and racing across branches. Which, of course, did involve some climbing. Not nearly as much as a Skyclanner, though. He inhaled softly, vision directed to those Thunderclanners still on the ground. "You guys go up with the Skyclanners. I'll tail behind in case I can help from below- don't ask me to carry you up." He spoke, voice light and unworried. "I'm confident we can make it up. It's like what Bobbie says." Green eyes shifted towards the Skyclanner on the wall.

He pushed to his paws, padding up to the que for the stone wall.

// No plans to need help or receive help! Waiting for the rest of TC to go up.

"speech"​

​

​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

┌─────────────────── ☽【❖】☾ ───────────────────┐​

Out of all the terrible things he had dreamed up that might befall them on this journey, Luckypaw never would have thought that the cold would have been something to worry about; even with his scruffy fur fluffed up as much as he can get it, the bite still seeps in, stiffening his already-worn muscles. Well, maybe the temperature didn't quite rank as terrible - a certain cave-in had this beat by far - but that doesn't change the fact that he's already grown tired of it, longing all the time for the more-temperate tunnels he'd used to (even if that, too, sends a shiver of unease down his spine - or maybe it's just the cold?). The snow doesn't help, either; it had very quickly lost its novelty when he'd realized that it was here to stay, likely for the remainder of their journey, however long that would be. Still, he can't feel completely put-out by it all - after all, experiencing this discomfort means he's still alive, not trapped forever in those foreign tunnels, and that in and of itself is a miracle of StarClan he's not particularly keen on squandering. While he's still on edge (and probably will be for the rest of his life, he's pretty sure), the going has been smooth enough after regrouping, all things considered, and he's just foolish enough to wonder if things will stay like this for a good while longer when they come upon the next obstacle - a sheer cliff, ice-slicked and looming.

There's an immediate hold-up, and he takes the time to rest his tired paws for a moment, expecting they'll have charted a new course sometime soon, though he feels uneasy when a quick glance doesn't reveal a more straight-forward path. And then, right before his very eyes, they start suggesting that they continue on, that they climb up this cliff-face - this cliff-face, that, mind you, is a cliff-face. Luckypaw can't believe what he's hearing at first, not until the SkyClanner still bearing a collar scrambles up with practiced ease, dropping back down as if it's no great deal that their plan is to have everyone climb this thing. He feels sick to his stomach at the very idea; there's no climbing back home, no solid paw-holds and certainly no great heights. For StarClan's sake, he spent most of his time under the ground, not dangling precariously above it! Even if he had the courage to protest this hare-brained scheme, it was already too late, cats stepping forward and testing out the wall before beginning the climb, and instinctively he takes a step back, tail carefully held back from lashing lest he summon a fresh wave of pain from his still-healing injury.

Those who aren't SkyClanners are having a rough time, plenty slipping from even short heights, and that doesn't inspire any new bout of confidence in him. Sure, maybe it was fine to fall only a short distance, but what if they fell from halfway up, or even from the top? Strange though he is, Luckypaw finds himself agreeing with the SkyClanner who proposed they find another way, but as he suddenly spots a familiar flash of tri-colored fur beginning the ascent, his indignation begins to die down, apprehension settling in instead. Half-heartedly, he places a paw against the stone, feeling his claws scrape against it reminiscent of catching on a stone in the tunnels back at home, and he can't suppress a shiver as he takes another look around, as if somebody might swoop in and save him from whatever he was about to do. When no savior arrives, he turns back to the mountain, surveying the others and taking careful stock of who was making successful attempts and who was not. Everything looks the same to him, all the nooks identical to the crannies, but he still tries to imitate the steps of the SkyClanners before him, squishing his paws into the rock face and holding on for dear life as he begins to boost himself up.

Hardly has he made it a pawful of tail-lengths before he's slipping, claws failing to catch on a patch of smoothened ice, and unceremoniously he finds himself right back where he started - though he'd been on his paws when they'd first stopped to survey the cliff, not in a snowy heap. Hissing in frustration and embarrassment at his failure and at the aching throb at his disturbed tail, he tries to focus in entirely on the wall this time, blinking back upset tears that have begun to prickle at the corners of his eyes. By the time he's placed his paws back up into a starting position again, he's practically shaking from the cold and his own nerves, though if nothing else, this time he's determined not to make a fool out of himself a second time. All the tips and chatter start to fade to the background as he concentrates with everything he has on each paw, heaving upwards and upwards, and even though he's already starting to pant from exertion, he's pretty sure he's doing it. As Luckypaw sends a glance down to make sure one of his hind paws reaches a hold, he makes the mistake of glancing down, too, and he quickly freezes, all progress halted as he suddenly takes in what a great height he's at. It hadn't seemed this high when he'd been looking up, still so much distance to cross, but it's terrifying seeing it from the other perspective, and as voices start to sound around him once more, he has to fight off the panic, suddenly unable to concentrate enough to search for the next pawhold.​

i'm falling into place, but still the timing's not right (☘) yeah that's a fire i just can't seem to light

• OOC: Pre-plotted help from @DUSKPOOL ^^​
• 
• 
  - Luckykit Luckypaw
  - He/him (AFAB)
  - 6 moons (Ages on the 1st)
  - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
  - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
  - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​

 

[smogstar]

In the same vein as the dismay he'd found in the rapid-running river currents, Smogmaw's tendons grit under the mountainside's slope. The bones in his body were not made for climbing, and this he understands at a fundamental level. Even scaling the Great Sycamore, with the notches and crevices that run up its sun-dried husk, has proven unachievable. His weight, as he's come to learn from those attempts, is especially prone to gravity's capricious whims. Skulking, sneaking, and lurking—all disciplines he held some degree of mastery in. Not climbing. To follow in the SkyClan cats' pawsteps is to step into territory unfamiliar, if not perilous.

"Cut my claws and call me a kittypet," he exclaims in a hushed tone, venturing closer towards the cliff at a deliberate, sluggish pace. "This... is ludicrous." Fear finds its way to him in forms few, but heights, and the potential to fall from them, leaves his composure in tatters. Widened eyes serve as the audience to the first attempts made, and a long-drawn sigh follows in their failure. The SkyClan cats decide then to blaze a trail, so to speak; Bobbie sets an example, clambering up the crag with movements fluid, and her clanmates go about organising a buddy system. "Fuck... 'tleast the way down'll be worse."

His pawsteps draw to a halt at the precipice's lowest point, the shale wall a tail's length away from his muzzle. Staring at it won't solve nothing, nor will wallowing in his resignations. All the same, he won't feel the least amount confident until there's a SkyClan guide at his tail—or dragging him by the scruff.​

 

[SLATE]

As always, his words were met with disagreement and dismissiveness — anything from "we have no other choice", to "we can survive this too", to even an insult from his own apprentice. It was Little Wolf's suggestion that made him want to roll his eyes. Was everything a "test from StarClan"? How about their clanmates getting ill and dying in the first place; was that some sort of sick, twisted test of theirs? Maybe StarClan should have made themselves useful and used their "magic" to prevent any of this from happening in the first place.

He flicked a dulled gaze to Orangeblossom, who insisted he bite his tongue and just climb the wall. Huh. It was easy for her to say, seeing as she was one of the best climbers SkyClan had to offer. The deputy knew well that heights weren't his strong suit.

The lead warrior grumbled, "You know what, maybe I should fall off this damn thing. Maybe then you'll all see this is idiotic." That had to be one of the most embarrassing ways to go. Slate would rather die fighting an enemy than plunging down to his demise, but if his death was enough to prove a point... maybe it wouldn't all be in vain. He was well aware that sometimes one had to act on impulse and make rash decisions to survive, but they wouldn't even at least take the time to look for another path? It would only be a matter of time before taking these risks would lead to death.

He heaved a sigh, then jumped onto the lowest ledge. His legs nearly scrambled out from under him, seeing as his large form couldn't hug the cliff as tightly as the smaller cats could. Slate gathered himself, silently cursing as he slowly and hesitantly pulled himself upward until he was stuck with seemingly nowhere to go. Would he have to climb down? Was that even possible? "Uh... now what?!" He called out to pretty much anyone, muscles tensed and holding steady for dear life as he searched for the next clawhold.

✰ INFO

• 
  
• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The obsidian warrior watched with a hawk-like optic, beginning his own climb at a slower pace, mindful of where he put his paws. He wasn’t built for climbing with a bulkier build that threatened to drag him down if it wasn’t for the familiar burn of muscles kicking into overdrive to keep himself from meeting an unfortunate fate. He let out a long breath, watching it turn misty white, curling in the air before vanishing. His torn ears flattened in annoyance, wishing the coldness away that seeped into tired bones—a constant soreness that he couldn’t quite get rid of.

Duskpool gaze flickered, catching eyes with Dovethroat who tossed a glance in his direction every second. His maw parted, breathing deeply to counteract the familiar ache of his body. “Don’t worry, kiddo.” He’d call out to the RiverClanner, expression indifference. “Keep your eyes ahead. Don’t need to be lookin’ at me every second.” He grunted, pulling himself up, using his hind legs as a boost, front paws sinking uselessly into the rock as he scaled up. “Ain’t gonna let ya fall.” He muttered mostly to himself.

He’d be damned before he let one of ‘em meet an unsavory death, even if he met his own. It seemed the older warrior was having a harder time finding a reason to move one paw in front of the other, but he didn’t have the time to let it fester. “Look for somethin’ like a crevice.” He called down to Slate, turning a molten copper to the lead warrior, tone deadpan. “Might have to look to the side—” His voice tapered off with a sharp inhale, catching Dovethroat form beginning to slip, urging forelimbs upward to reach the younger warrior with a strained grunt, shoulder pulsating. “Damnit, kid!” His tone echoed, snarling.

/ talking to @SLATE briefly ,, beginning to rescue @dovethroat. and will be rescuing @LUCKYPAW shortly afterward ​

​

thought speech​

 

[milkthorn.]

It was cold. Milkpaw had experienced chilly nights, cold rain and cold breeze, but never had he seen snow. He had never felt it beneath his toe pads instead of the dirt kept warm by the beating sun. His pupils slit from the light it seemed to bounce everywhere, his brows furrowing to try to prevent more light from blinding him. The snow clumped up underneath his paws as he stepped, and lifting it left his own pawprints. Like mud. The drifting flakes clung to his white pelt, then seemed to evaporate into water on touch. Maybe from his warmth? He didn't quite understand why. He didn't have the longest fur, but his scruffy pelt would be just fine.. as long as it didn't decide to soak him.

It seemed more delicate then feathers. And it was quite odd. But most didn't seem much to react to that, rather now the attention moving toward the wall of rock they faced. A cliff side, apparently. The one named Bobbie who he'd travelled with through through the dark depths of the cave system had begun showing what to look for to climb. Crevices, cracks, ledges, and anything that claws could catch onto could carry them up. It.. seemed simple, but as others began trying, some slipped down the side.

He used the insult kittypet, but at the same time he couldn't believe it was a hindrance, as the clan of them were scaling the side of the rocks with such an ease Milkpaw couldn't dare to comprehend. But he kept his confidence high. He could do it. He believed in himself, this one time, he had to more than anything.

A drop this far could kill them...

But.. there was hope. They were in the mountains right? Hopefully, hopefully that meant the cure was close, it was within their claws, and maybe this was the last obstacle they would face. Maybe their journey home would be quick and easy. The ones with loved ones could grasp them, the cure leaving them as healthy as they were before. Everyone would be okay.

A deep inhale spread through him, the cold air tightening his lungs. His breath out was foggy, and he reopened to staring upwards at the asses of the cats ahead. Struggling. Each obstacle was a struggle. Each obstacle caused injuries and more stress upon others to just get through this.

His gaze flicked across the wall, his body bending down before springing up to grab the first ledge he could see. A hind leg found the slightest grip while his others scrambled to find more leverages.

One step at a time he would pull himself up, slowly, carefully, and breath already heavy from the exhaustion this was causing. Others were doing it. He could do it.

He had to.

​

 

[dovethroat.]

The voice behind him somehow does not inspire confidence. It makes him worry more, if anything—that sounds like he is blaming Duskpool for trying to explain what would be best to do, but he does not intend that. Dovethroat promises. The directive to not stare at him so much is probably what kicks off the beginning of the end. An attempt to find a crevice winds up with him accidentally skidding out of said divot and losing his footing for a moment. Pretty physically capable, he manages a moment of recovery before his brain criss-crosses itself and he accidentally moves the foot that is still set stable.

"I—" he begins to form a sentence that intends to inform Duskpool of some sort of warning, but the ground (or cliff, rather) has disappeared beneath him before any intelligent meaning can come out.

His footing gives way to the weightlessness of falling, and that is interrupted by what must be Duskpool catching him. And Dovethroat is not exactly petite, so the older warrior might be cursing life at the moment. Scrambling around for a bit, Dovethroat manages a few spitting apologies before he brings himself back toward a crevice in the cave and manages to gain his footing again. "S-S-Sorry!" He stammers, voice a few octaves higher.

[⋆]​

​

 

[hazecloud]

She isn't sure what her tactic is, waiting to be nearly the last to go. Is it utter disbelief that they're all expected to climb something this steep, this high up? Fear that if she were to lose her grip, their faces watching her plummet below would be the lats thing she sees? Convinced, just as some of the others, that there had to be another way? Without a doubt it's a mix of all the above and she watched, paws rooted to the ground, as cats began to follow the SkyClanners lead.

Soft green sights follow Fernpaw, Mosspaw, Dovethroat and Iciclefang as they slowly gain cover across the cliffside. Her gaze shifted to the sound of a familiar voice, another that had stayed behind. His voice lacked even the trace of hesitation, and the molly felt a rise of inspiration. Hazecloud followed to stand beside Batwing. "Your turn to be admirable?" Her humor had returned, influenced by the toms confidence.

Some had already reached the top now, she would be sure to join them. No matter what it took. ​

 

[CHALK]

⭒✧ Duskpool suggests an awareness of light levels and Chalk’s tail rapped thoughtfully. Sensible. Eyeing the knicks and aches amongst the group pressed even more urgency on the ordeal, with the longer spent balancing on the cliff face the more they risked further injury. Already cats were accruing more, Stormywing’s tumble a lesser precursor to Mouseflight’s gruesome knock to the face. The daylight warrior lurched slightly, too far to offer immediate help, but thankfully Bobbie is there to assist the windclanner. Her stable manoeuvrings were a relief to see.


Iciclefang’s pale gaze levelled on him. Rapt attention takes in her words, one ear broad while the other twitsed to the movement below them. ’You won’t let me fall?’ “Of course,” he blinked at her, genuine. The implicit confidence of the statement was surprisingly robust, Chalk mused. As experienced as he was with climbing, helping another cat up was something he’d never done. As fractured as their group was, the trip’s terrain had certainly forced them all to learn to assist each other quickly. “I’ll try not to give you anything to argue with as we go.” Light trickled down his whiskers as he sighed out something close to a laugh. With each tail length of progress they made, the daylight warrior narrated each challenging segment diligently.

The jolt of a maple-splash pelt flashed in his periphery, a windclan apprentice slipping from the wall. Chalk pitched towards Scorchpaw, shooting Iciclefang a quick, tense look. Thankfully, it appeared the apprentice wasn’t so far gone she needed to be hauled up, but by her stance she was in trouble. “There’s a ledge below your left back paw, extend your frame and you can reach it.” The instruction was sharp, hurried, but clear. He knew how draining being off balance could be. “Catch your breath,” With a wince at having to drop slightly onto his strained shoulder, Chalk continued, “then if you can, shuffle towards us. The slant is more forgiving.”

Rough concaves along the cliffside allowed cats a modicum more safety, shoulders and flanks able to lean against the stone. The daylight warrior’s direction aimed to get Scorchpaw towards one such nook. Chalk checked on Iciclefang before positioning himself between the two torties, spindly limbs jammed onto too-small outcrops. Where he was, he could reach either of them if he was quick enough.

/ talking @iciclefang through the ascent before climbing closer to @SCORCHPAW to give advice ​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He’d managed to hook his teeth into the RiverClanner’s scruff, nose crinkling at the burning pain digging into his shoulder blade, baring most of the tom’s weight until the other found his footing. He breathed shakily, teeth-gritting as his shoulder shifted oddly. His own fault for settlin’ in an odd position when he caught the other.

Duskpool ignored the other’s shuttered apology, molten gaze scanning the other for anythin’ out of the ordinary, heart threatening to rip from his chest, breath fogging his muzzle. “Ya alright, kid?” He bluntly stated, tone indifferent save for the crinkled worry of his optic. “Pay attention, alright? Don’t need ya slippin’ again.” He grunted, makin’ sure the other had a good enough paw hold before drawing away, ignoring the heated burn of his shoulder. Damnit.

He barely had time to think before catchin’ sight of Luckypaw some steps away from where he was. He breathed, urging his body forward, injured shoulder landing in a particular crevice that pulled at tender muscle, teeth attempting to latch onto the apprentice’s scruff. The older warrior hadn’t had time to think before he moved, grabbin’ the youngster before he slipped was a breath of relief, wooly tail tapping the other’s paw, guiding it to a proper foothold, waiting until the other found his footing. “I’ve got ya, kiddo.” He’d rumbled through a mouthful of fur.

/ @dovethroat. @LUCKYPAW ​

​

thought speech​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Figfeather is completely embarrassed when her head turns to meet Stormywing. Out of all cats to witness her failure- she couldn’t have had her head turned away? Expecting to be further humiliated she is instead, offered help- and asked to help in the same turn. Figfeather’s gaze softens, she takes quickly to agreeing with a nod. ”Okay… well, we can take this one ledge at a time then.” Slowly but surely, they’d help each other up the cliffside. ”Climbing this is gonna be a little different than a tree, but you’ll catch on quick. Hook your claws in the crevices like this.” Extending a forepaw onto the rock she demonstrates. ”Make sure you always test the stability before putting your full weight down, if the rock is to weak it might crumble and- that’d be bad.” She moves out of the way to give Stormywing room to try, ”After that you just climb it like a tree- I think. I’m a bit new to this too.” She smiles wearily, but despite the dangers she wasn’t too nervous for the task at hand. If Stormywing could actually get her onto the rocks and climbing she might feel the most exhilerated she’s ever been since the accident.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• @STORMYWING sorry this took so long </3
• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[STORMYWING]

☁︎

Thankfully, the SkyClan girl agrees. Stormywing offers a smile, features lighting up. "Okay. Okay, we got this," She assures, giving her a firm nod as a certain determination enters her gaze. She shoots a glance up the steep cliffside and narrows her eyes. Bring it on. She listens to Figfeather's instructions carefully, eyes following how she claws catch hold of the grooves and crevices in the rock. Unlike a tree, they can't sink in to stabilize...she must do that on her own. "Got it," She mews, trying her best to hide any sort of hesitation.

She wiggles her haunches again and leaps up a fox-length to a ledge, sliding her claws into any crevice she can see. She waits for a heartbeat to see if her hold is stable and a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding is released when, indeed, she is holding herself up. "Okay, I'm gonna haul you up now," She tells the marmalade she-cat, glancing down at her and leaning as far as she can before grasping her scruff. With the other's help, she pulls her up, muscles straining in her neck and shoulders.

I WANNA TASTE LOVE AND PAIN ☁︎​

​

​

​

​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

┌─────────────────── ☽【❖】☾ ───────────────────┐​

Quickly, he's starting to realize just how bad of an idea this is, just how much danger they're all surely in, and whether or not it will hurt when he inevitably hits the ground when he's suddenly grabbed from behind, pulled up by his scruff. Instinctively, he starts to scrabble, paws uselessly skidding against the rocky surface as terror sings through him - this is it, the other Clans have decided to betray them, even after all they'd been through together, he's going to get tossed right over the edge and it will only be his fault for volunteering for this wretched journey in the first place -

And then, rather than oblivion, he feels a nudge at his paw, a now-familiar voice reverberating around him, and Luckypaw risks another glance down (when did he squeeze his eyes shut, he wonders?) to see an even more familiar bushy tail guiding his paws, hovering near a sight that looks - well, it looks like most everything else on the wall, though if he looks real close, it might just be a better pawhold than anything he'd been searching for before. Belated, it hits him that he's not about to fall to his death - that Duskpool's gruff rumble is the truth, that the SkyClan warrior is here to help him. Again. If he weren't still dangling out over a cliffside, a stretch far too distant left to go for his liking, perhaps he'd spend more energy feeling embarrassed at the prospect, but right now all he can do is hook his claws back into the wall, praying that they'll hold his weight and that Duskpool won't let go before he's ready. It's hard, finding a new place to cling to, but with the alternative hanging over his head, it doesn't take as long as he feared to reattach himself to the wall, paws finding purchase right where Duskpool had indicated he look. How were all these SkyClanners so good at this, he wonders? Even with so much time to practice, does it not still scare them, being so high off the ground?

As he feels like the immediate imminent danger has passed, fading back to only the general fear of falling rather than the terror of slipping, he feels as though he's slightly more aware of his surroundings, too, especially those around. Dovethroat is nearby, clinging just as desperately as he is, and there are plenty of other groups and solo climbers still making their way up, too; amidst the various voices calling out guidance, he doesn't hear any panicked yelling or cries of despair, so that's a good thing at least; nobody's slipped irreparably yet, probably. The thought brings Luckypaw mostly back to the present, limbs practically trembling with exertion and adrenaline and fear, but he holds strong still, claws digging in not just as if his life depended on it, but because it does depend on it. Duskpool or not, he's still the one who has to pull himself up the rest of the way, just like he's already been doing - minus the freezing up for the rest of the way, hopefully. Once it's clear that he's confident in his footing, strong jaws relinquish their hold on him, and it's as though the hold on his voice is released, too, if only momentarily. "Th-thank you," he breathes out, and he hopes that's enough for now as he begins his climb anew, paws probing for holds even as he's determined not to lock up again; at least, not until he made it to the top of the cliff, where he's certain he'll collapse in a puddle of pure relief.​

i&#039;m falling into place, but still the timing&#039;s not right (☘) yeah that&#039;s a fire i just can&#039;t seem to light

• OOC: @DUSKPOOL​
• 
• 
  - Luckykit Luckypaw
  - He/him (AFAB)
  - 6 moons (Ages on the 1st)
  - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
  - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
  - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Figfeather cannot help but be shocked by Stormywing’s determination and optimism- especially with her. Perhaps she had made wrongful judgement of the ThunderClanner, most other times she’s bickered with cats her age back home it resulted in day long to permanent feuds. She eases up a bit and returns the smile.

She grows even more impressed as the tabby successfuly digests her instructions and begins to scale the rock wall with understandable hesitation. When she informs Figfeather she’s going to pull her up the red tabby does her best to assist Stormywing. StarClan knows it was going to be hard enough for anyone to climb the rocks, let alone when you have to drag another cat alongside you. Figfeather has to stop herself from feeling guilty and reminds herself that she must do whatever nescisarry to continue on with the journey.

A grunt escapes her maw as she is hauled up, all the muscles of her three good legs are used to hold herself against the rocks. Claws scrape until they find stable groves to grab hold of. Just this single movement was taxing on her energy and they weren’t even a quarter of the way up, this would be no easy feat but… they could do it.

”Okay, I’m stable. You can let go of me.” Figfeather informs Stormywing, ”Go ahead and haul yourself up some more. I can hang on here no problem until you’re ready again.” She wonders how many times they’ll have to repeat this process before they at last made it up. She looks around noting that much of the journeying group was ahead, but some still lagged behind like they were. Thankfully, even if it was a tad humiliating, she knows they can count on the group to not leave Stormywing and her in the dust.​

♡ INFO BATTLE

• @STORMYWING
• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

​