private DO YOU FEEL BETTER NOW ★ Council Meeting/Interrogation

〕"I'm sure you all know why we are here." Her voice was low as she began, meeting each of their gazes before continuing. It was strange, sitting in here with them all, like they had many times before today. But today, she was leading the meeting...not Howlingstar. She had considered calling them all to gather somewhere else, but ultimately she knew this was the appropriate place. Howlingstar's scent was gone, replaced by Skyclaw and Redflower. After their meeting was finished, she could be tossing out their bedding. If she were allowed of the camp, the thought of carrying it off to the Thunderpath was tempting. The father away their scent got, the better. Simply sitting here now was making her skin crawl with irritation. Their scent was just another reminder at how Skyclaw should've never been in here.

Look out for my brother.

Her gaze lingered on Raccoonstripe's figure longer than the others, Berryheart's words replaying in her mind. As much as she desperately wished to reassure him that his brother, sister, and mother were at peace with their ancestors, it was forbidden to speak about the ceremony she had endured. Everyone that had granted her a life was important to someone in this den. She wanted to tell them all that they were all alright, and that they were watching over the clan...but there were rules, and that was not what she had called them here for. There was an important decision to make, even if she already had an idea what they would say. Her decision to wait was not a popular decision, but she was not Skyclaw.

With this life I give you the grace to offer second chances. Use it well to unearth nobility hidden in the darkness of life’s mistakes. You must be for your clan the guiding light you were for me, and some will stumble and fall, or come from unknown lands. Don’t snuff out their light too quickly. Had Acornwish known about Wrathpaw when she bestowed her with a life?

Her gaze turned to the murderer that had been brought in by Bramblefur. She nodded in dismissal for the warrior to leave, before turning her burning gaze to rest upon the blinded apprentice in question. "Wrathpaw. You are guilty of the murder of two of your clanmates. Pebblestep and Howlingstar. Yet during the battle, you saved Orangepaw. Your loyalties seem to change with the direction of the wind. We have every reason to exile you...to kill you. Why should we not cast you away? Plead your case."
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  • ooc.
    @WRATHHOWL @leafhusk @RACCOONSTRIPE @BURNSTORM @nightbird @ROEFLAME . @GENTLESTORM
  • FLAMESTAR —— leader of thunderclan , mentoring merlinpaw . storm x lily . littermate to nala, smokey, and nemo ✦ penned by icey !
    afab / she/her / 37 moons & ages every 20ᵗʰ
    widowed / heterosexual / closed to romance
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— difficult in battle
    ★★★★★★★★★

    speech”, 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
    tags — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
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    a longhaired red tabby with low white and green eyes. flamewhisker's fur is a vibrant hue of red, riddled with thick classic tabby markings. her fur is medium in length, and she has a large, feathery tail. her chest, belly, tail tip, and her paws are dipped white. flamewhisker's eyes are a dark, deep shade of green. her shoulder has a large scar on it from a fight with a dog. she also has a shredded ear from a disagreement with a loner during her time alone before joining thunderclan. on particularly cold days, or sometimes before a major weather change, she will walk with a slight limp from her shoulder injury.
 
  • Wow
Reactions: ixora
*+:。.。 The world Wrath-howl found himself in was a dark one.

He could tell you all he liked how much he deserved it, how it was only fair - if not merciful that he see the endless starless night with breath in his lungs rather than whatever might become of him when put to rest in the same ruthless manner he'd done to Pebblestep and Howlingstar...

But he was petrified.

Each step quivers, hesitant to drop his weight and lean into any and every movement. The ground could mysteriously vanish just as he aims to trust it, and without his sight, he doesn't know if he ever will again. He wonders dizzily if this is what a rabbit must feel like; unsure if every step it takes outside its burrow will lead it into the fox's waiting jaws. Still, the killer does his best to keep his complaints to himself, only failing to hide his winces when lightning and fire burn through his multitude of lacerations at every minuscule movement his head makes.

Wrath-howl's new universe was dark and not a little strange. He couldn't see any of the cats around him, but he could hear them just fine. The hissing breaths, the claws scraping at the dirt, the way the ground swishes with every lashing tail. He wonders if Lovelight and Laughblosom are among those raging against him. He can't see their faces, but his minds eye brings up contortions of their pleasant expressions. It's hard to picture them angry, even now. Small mercies, he supposess.

As he's shoved forward. He doesn't know if he's teetering on the edge of a cliff or standing right before Flamestar herself. The way her voice booms high above his head suggests she's closer to her ancestors than she'll ever be to him. He isn't sure if he feels more relief or envy. He settles on fear but tries his damndest to focus on pious resignation.

He knows he should only allow himself to feel nonresistant - that the fear he feels is already unbearably selfish of him...And yet...

A part of him is happy to hear his old name.

Still, the flutter in his chest is quickly pinned to stillness by firm claws as Flamestar continues. He can't help but flinch as she lays bare his multitude of sins, mocking him for his turn-coat ways. A thick tail immediately twines itself around his paws as the killer hugs himself, the longing for one of his siblings - for Tansyshine or Glowingpaw - to hold him close quickly swallowed by the drowning of guilt and shame.
Flamestar emphasizes killing him, and Wrathpaw has to bite his cheek to keep from whimpering. His mind flashes to burning orange eyes, sending sparks reflecting in ivory claws seconds before they find their vulnerable target. He thinks, just as quickly, of copper hues, dimming, fading, emptying, until not even fear remains.

He doesn't want to die.

But neither had Pebblestep or Howlingstar.

Neither had Cobwebtail, or Sparrowpaw; Rabbitnose, Mousenose, Ploverhop, Morningcloud - none of them had wished for their stories to end the way they had.

"Plead your case."

Wrath-howl doesn't hesitate, dropping his head so low his nose touches the ground, "I can't"

Wrathpaw's story was coming swiftly to a close - it was a miracle it hadn't ended happily ever after with Stormywing's claws. Perhaps there was a reason for that. He pictures amidst his solitary darkness the last sight of Fallowbite standing head of her own army, a villain made hero - it's not too late echoes in his ears.

You're alive for one more day, you're allowed to speak one more time... make sure you do something unregrettable.

So he speaks.

"I...I have always been loyal to Thunderclan...but I dishonored my place among its true warriors when I believed I knew best how to care for it. I...I took Pebblestep's life b-because I thought...I thought he was a threat" he thinks about the warm smile the grey tom always threw his way, the shine in those copper eyes when he smiled - the way his death stole that same smile from his sister - Wrath-howl stole that smile, "I knew...I knew who the real threat was the second he...the second Pebblestep died" he swallows thickly, a kaleidoscope of fading sunlight, withered marigolds, and torn swallowtail butterfly wings bursting forth in his mind's eye. All that adrenaline he felt when he was tasked to rid the clan of Kitty-pet scum had died soon after Pebblestep's light faded. When Wrathpaw stepped back and saw what he'd done, saw the pain he'd sowed into the earth with his own two paws and would never be able to dig free again...but the vines had already taken root. It was too late.
"A..after that, I was scared t-to face what I became...what I was. Skyclaw and Smokefur...no, no, it doesn't matter what they said - I believed that the only way I could remain a member of Thunderclan would be if I helped Skyclaw take control. I could've...I should've..." he shakes his head, trailing off, afraid of stepping foot into an unattainable fantasy. He thinks of Sproutberry, and his chest aches.

With passion, he cries out, "Saving Orangepaw was the least I could do! But saving him...won't bring back Howlingstar or Pebblestep or anyone - it won't heal the wounds I caused it - it won't change anything. I...I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." I...miss helping people, Gentlestorm. I don't want to stop doing that., was the only reason he chose to save Orangepaw. He wasn't a turn-coat against the villains, not in the way Fallowbite was - It was far too late for that in Wrathpaw's story. The killer had...he'd only wanted to finally make decisions that felt right. The was no redemption to be found in doing the bare fucking minimum.

He hoped, if nothing else, that his words would reach the youth Skyclaw had attempted to corrupt. Mottledpaw, Scarletpaw, Meadowpaw, Bayingkit...Look where hatred leads you. Look at what acting out of fear and arrogance gets you! A dark and strange world, all to yourself. One last day to torture yourself and those you love with apologies that can do nothing to reverse the past.
Don't follow in my paw steps.
It's not too late for you to do what's right.

So do it.

"If..." he swallows thickly, hesitant and small, unsure of his place but helpless still to that little spark of hope. He presses forth, "if I am g-granted me-ercy I...I swear to you, Flamestar, to Th-thunderclan, that I will devote every breath taken on every day I've st-stolen from those far more deserving of more time to do whatever I can in service of this clan. To do what's right" He bites his tongue before he can hysterically list out reasons not to end his life, starving to live past today. He waits until he tastes blood, before allowing himself a shaky breath.

"But I took two lives. I...I can't ask for mercy. I lay my one life before you now and accept whatever you deem fit. " he presses his nose further into the dirt, and though he trembles to leave his neck exposed, there is simply no other choice.
And though he thinks about a darkness painted red and gold with burning-freezing-electrifying-numbing agony; about what it looks like when a cat is emptied of everything that made them them, about the people he still wishes to hold and to hold him back, the sun's warmth and a morning filled with bird calls and laughter...about a death where Starclan will have nothing to do with his soul, and where a spirit banished from the only afterlife he's ever known would even go...
Even still...
"I plead for nothing."

Wherever the next life takes me, I promise I'll be better.



  • GENERAL:
    Wrath-howl
    DMAB— He/Him
    10 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Brother to Lovelight and Laughblossom
    Thunderclan — apprentice
    Formerly mentored by Wildheart


    COMBAT:
    Physically easy | mentally very easy
    Attack in bold #4a59ff
    injuries: Severely scratched, permanently blind , mentally unwell
    "SPEECH"
 
names have meanings, they have purpose. each council member servers purpose behind their prefix, and wear it with pride. seasons ago, leafhusk found wrath-howl’s name to be ironic; a springy, pinkish hued boy who always wore a smile. how could someone so bright carry hatred? it turned out to be an ignorant, stupid mistake— he looked so hateful when his teeth dug into roaringpaw’s shoulder. it burned deep in his eyes, leafhusk felt so terrified that day. she wonders how wildheart feels, to train someone you think has potential only to rear his ugly head. her golden eyes flicker towards the newly crowned flamestar, someone who is carrying a burden heavier than the poultice stuck to her shoulders. it’s been a gruesome start to the new era, and while every new day gets easier, this one won’t be

whatever we decide…. it won’t please everyone, she reminds herself begrudgingly. it should be a no-brainier, right? send him to the loner lands, force him to endure the life she had because of his ignorance. she feels conflicted, but only a trivial amount. maybe it’s the way he looks at them so pathetically, his friendliness with addersnap, or the simple fact that they had to sit on the interrogation. if we keep him, stormywing might go mad and kill him while he sleeps. a thought she doesn’t verbalize. his injury meant they couldn’t kick him out while the adrenaline still ran in their blood, spit insults at him while he runs with his tail tucked between his legs. the council wasn’t allowed to be impulsive about this. while stormywing earned justice for her dead brother in the trophy of wrath-howl’s sight, a barley recovered council sit in awkward silence.

when snakes go hungry, they begin to devour themselves. it is in a desperate attempt to save their lives, however, they will die anyways. such is the fate of life and death. wrath-howl has a chance to save his skin by groveling at the heels of the council to beg forgiveness. thunderclan is not a place of mercy, especially now. if he hadn't 'saved' orangepaw, if storywing didn't claw his eyes out.... he'd either be in the ground, or days away from the borders. he could flood the den with tears and leafhusk knows that won't help. wrath-howl will only ruin himself.

as predicted, he grovels. i can’t, and yet, he continues to speak. he pleads like a starved predator, choking on his words. venom seeps from his claims to further poison the lives of the dead, making hollow claims about how sorry he is, how scared he was of skyclaw. that is the most believable thing he's said. wrath-howl presses his face into the dirt like he’s about to dig the grave himself; stormywing should’ve gone for his throat.

leafhusk speaks up before anyone gets a chance too. although, she doesn’t care if anyone talks over her. the tension is thin enough that it is almost expected. "you’re pathetic." she spits as cobweb bandages crinkle over her snarling face.

"all i hear is a kit crying for his mother. sit up straight! you don’t get to kiss the ground we walk on because we wasted herbs on you." she growls while ivory claws shove themselves into the dirt. the fur on her spine spikes. it's not fair that he lost his sight, because he deserves to witness how angry they are at him. the council holds up a string of fate that's been snapped moments ago.

movement is limited thanks to the shoulder wound, so wrath-howl is fortunate that she won’t attempt to close a gap. her tail lashes against the ground, it thumps loudly. "you claim you began to feel regret after pebblestep died, but you are on trial for howlingstar’s death as well. you just admitted to us that you could have stopped it and chose not too. stop begging us for mercy when you expect it in the same breath, stars above, you make me sick." she doesn’t believe him. admittedly, she thinks he switched sides because he saw the light leave sproutberry’s eyes. that it could have been him.

"the life you lived in thunderclan, the air you breathed here, has been wasted. there is nothing you can do that will change what you have done, and how your clanmates see you-- but i believe that you already know this. the thought of keeping you here is disrespectful to the warrior’s blood that still stain our camp. i hope you enjoy the solitude of loner lands. i didn't."


 
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ nightbird narrows in on the sniveling creature brought before them. already, she was in poor spirits being pulled here when the answer to this problem was easy. they should have finished him off before gentlestorm wasted cobwebs on his scarred face, let stormywing finish what she started before he ran to go play hero. even entertaining whatever explanation wrathhowl would give was below them all.

nightbird cared little for the words of a coward, for his claims that fear forced his paws into slaughter. it was a strong thing, consumed the weak willed unabashedly. but the guilt of his crimes did not absolve them, would not clean his star forsaken name or make him any better than any of the other murderers they had slaughtered. she waits for leafhusk to finish, not interrupting the sorrel molly. the only thing nightbird disagreed with was wasting so much energy on a creature so undeserving.

"you waste our time pleading for nothing." nightbird hisses, annoyance snapping her teeth. they could be out rebuilding, making sure a vulnerable clan was in order. but instead, they sat here listening to nothing. "and from what i have seen of it, thunderclan would care little for your 'devotion'." she sneers, claws flexing into the dirt. it was devotion that drove him to following skyclaw's paws, to stealing the lives of two clanmates, to spewing ideals that ended with more blood tarnishing thunderclan's former glory than they knew how to deal with.

nightbird wastes no more time on the disappointment laid out before them, lip curling in disgust before she passes her gaze onto flamestar. she had been merciful to allow him time to wake before casting judgement. the queen prayed that such generosity had met the end of its chain. "there cannot be a place for him in this clan. there is precedent- the others have been culled or driven out." she doesn't care that he can hear each word, wants him to. "it is only a matter of him posing a problem later." they should cut him down here, lose the chance of a later headache, of wrathhowl returning to see his family under any circumstance. in reality, nightbird cared little if they did just that or sent him to the loner lands to die alone. she only cared that his filth never touched this forest again.
  • ooc ↛
  • NIGHTBIRD she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, 36 ☾'s
    a small black smoke molly with a white paw and pale silver eyes. currently a queen residing in the nursery.
    mate to raccoonstripe / / currently mentoring none.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    penned by vayle@vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
 

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-
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The uneasy silence cast over the grim council was uncomfortable, but the slow and lopsided entrance of Wrath-howl made Roeflame’s belly twist in disgust, steely expression narrowing as the young tom cowered under his leaders demand for answers.

Wrathpaw, the Lead Warrior reminds herself with a twitch of her tail tip as she gazes upon the broken form of a once vibrant apprentice. Whatever expectations the cinnamon molly may have had for him have already been thrown into the mud, she’s doesn’t recall seeing a lick of hesitation when he trailed on Skyclaw’s heels. With an indignation tilt of her chin, Roeflame wonders if he would feel so torn over his wrongdoings if he was still surrounded by his like-minded pack.

Leafhusk and Nightbird practically laugh in the face of his words, and Roeflame thinks them entirely right.
“You plead nothing?” The echo is incredulous. Her tail is restless as words simmer on the warriors tongue, an obligatory sense to bridle the hate she wants to pour onto the young killer. “How dare you cry to Flamestar and ask her mercy with the blood that’s on your paws, and say you plead for nothing! The last word is spat as Roeflame stands, breaking the councils formation and coming to stand over him in one, quick stride. He would feel the heat in her words, the effort not to pounce upon his shoulders and give him her version of mercy.

“You believed you knew what was best for your clan as an apprentice who knew nothing, and now here you are, sniffling in the face of your consequences.” Roeflame waits until Leafhusk and Nightbird have passed their judgements in full before she brings her thoughts to surface, voice gradually rising as she continues. “You are no victim, Wrathpaw, do not pity yourself as one. You lift your chin and embrace what you’ve done with the same enthusiasm.” Roeflame had watched Wrathpaw grow, but sentiment did nothing to soften her tone.

She had also watched Sparrowpaw grow, trained alongside Mousenose and Morningcloud, shared tongues with Ploverhop and Pebblestep. Roeflame grimaced, looking away from the blinded, cowering form and towards Flamestar, finally relenting her pressure and taking a firm step away from the traitor. “Nightbird is right, Flamestar. He has no place here any longer,” a sharp glance to Wrathpaw, “he’s ensured that.” Whether or not Flamestar took the senior Lead Warriors push for execution would decide the track Roeflame’s next train of thought, another moral tussle.



  • ROEFLAME she/her, Lead Warrior of Thunderclan, twenty-two moons.
    petite cinnamon silver ticked tabby with murky green eyes & a small scar over her left eye.
    mate to Burnstorm ☀ mentor to Foxpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ☀ underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Noor@toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
"I'm sure you all know why we are here." Flamestar speaks in a low voice, but there is an edge to it; Raccoonstripe stands near her, dipping his head in understanding. Those who had followed Skyclaw had been disposed of, either during the final battle, their blood let free, staining the earth, or afterward, when ThunderClan had chased them away like hounds, teeth at their fleeing ankles. There remains one in their midst. When Wrathhowl is brought before the council, the tabby's throat tightens.

Wrathhowl trembles before the fury of Flamestar and her warriors. Raccoonstripe does not watch him with the same disgust his peers do, though he does not fault them for their righteous vitriol. The tabby's memories are tangling his paws like bramble; he is thinking of impressionable Wrathpaw, hot on his heels, on Skyclaw's, headed to the SkyClan border, their jaws tasting the air for any sign of an enemy patrol.

Am I responsible for you, too? Raccoonstripe looks almost bleakly at the pitiful, pleading cat who says he begs for nothing. He had slain Pebblestep, a warrior who had given his life for his Clan. He had helped to kill Raccoonstripe's mother, and he will never look upon her face again, not until he joins StarClan himself.

But the taste of Skyclaw's blood in his mouth is thick and angry. The taste of Wrathhowl's would be, too, if it came to that.

How can I condemn him now? Raccoonstripe's gaze feels heavy as stone. He flicks dark eyes to Roeflame, to Nightbird, to Leafhusk, then finally, to Flamestar. "I believe mercy is the final gift we can give him." He squares his shoulders, but the resignation is writ palpably on his features. "But what that mercy looks like..." His jaw clicks into place. "No. I do not believe a cat who takes their leader's life has a place in their Clan any longer."

He sweeps a muted glance over his councilmates before murmuring, "Let him join the others in exile."

  • ooc:
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  • Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
    — "speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 45 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
    — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Thistlepaw ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
    — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
    — currently mated to Nightbird.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.


 

Burnstorm sits close to his mates side, golden eyes narrowed and tail twitching in a steady motion behind him as he listens to the young cat who crouches before them. Wrath-howl had taken one of his grandmother's lives. Who had killed a clanmate in cold blood and only after that did he feel remorse for what he had done. Not when he had taken a life from a mother, a grandmother, a leader who had cats depending on her, cats who loved her. It made him absolutely sick to watch him grovel before them and it is only Roeflame's steadying presence at his side that prevents him from leaping forward with claws extended and teeth bared. But what kind of a cat would that make him, if he stooped so low as to take Wrath-howl's life here and now, even in the face of everything he had done it would not make Burnstorm any better than him.

And still, the tom claims to plead for nothing, to ask nothing of them, but the words that had left his mouth are a direct contradiction to that statement. A breath of air leaves Burnstorm's nostrils as they flare in feigned amusement, his eyes rolling at the pathetic display put on before them. None of the others were actually buying this right? A furtive glance to the others faces tells him no, they weren't. And their words confirmed it. Leafhusk is the first to speak, and it is her scolding words combined with Nightbird's that makes the weight a little less heavy. He is not a monster for not extending his paw in forgiveness, and he is not alone in the desire to never see Wrathpaw's face again.

When his mate speaks, he presses closer to her, admiring the fire in her infliction. His uncle, too, suggests that Wrathpaw should be cast out. Burnstorm has to agree. "I would say you're no better than a sniveling kit but even my kits know more honor than you. You took their grandmother from them, and you only feel guilty after the second life you took? I agree with what has already been said. ThunderClan has no room for murderers among its ranks" he says with a huff of breath, a dismissive flick of his tail as he looks towards Flamestar, his eyes passing over Wrathpaw for no more than a moment, as if under the pretense he is gone already. Whether that be execution, or exile, it was not for him to decide.
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  • 80082522_aYO5vxC2NxrsdlE.png
    BURNSTORM THUNDERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; HE / HIM ; BROTHER TO MORNINGPAW, MOONWHISPER, HOWLFIRE, FIREFLYGLOW, SKYCLAW & DUSKBIRD ; MATE TO ROEFLAME ; FATHER TO DOVEPAW, BEETLEPAW, AND LITTLEPAW
    A large, sharp tongued, tom with long black fur and golden, oval shaped, eyes.
    Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + fights honorably
    Mentoring Beetlepaw and Coalpaw
 
I can't.

Though he can't see it, her ear twitches in irritation, and her eyes narrow to merely more than slits. If he were unable to stand up for himself, why were they even here? She had granted him an opportunity to explain, and he was unable to justify anything. Her maw opened to respond, but he began talking before she could dismiss him. He claimed to realize who the real threat was after helping kill Pebblestep, yet he left out how he felt when he had killed Howlingstar. The fur on her neck prickled, but she remained deadly silent. "A..after that, I was scared t-to face what I became...what I was. Skyclaw and Smokefur...no, no, it doesn't matter what they said - I believed that the only way I could remain a member of Thunderclan would be if I helped Skyclaw take control. I could've...I should've.." The leader's tail lashed behind her, and she butted in before he could continue. "You should have sought help from one of us. We could've helped you before it escalated into what it had...your mentor could have helped you." Her tone was sharp, but in this moment she felt a flicker of pity towards the apprentice. So he had been afraid, but that did not take the stains off his paws.

"If I am g-granted me-ercy I...I swear to you, Flamestar, to Th-thunderclan, that I will devote every breath taken on every day I've st-stolen from those far more deserving of more time to do whatever I can in service of this clan. To do what's right". Though he couldn't see it, the leader slowly shook her head in disappointment. Regardless of Skyclaw's 'ceremony' this was still an apprentice sitting before her. One that she had watched Tansyshine nurture and Wildheart train. She could see it in her council member's eyes...they wanted him dead, or exiled. Did she blame them? Absolutely not. Part of her wanted the same, the other part could only see a young, scared...blind apprentice who was just trying to live. Was she really going throw him out? He would never survive out there...

He lays down in front of her, pressing his nose into the ground. "I...I can't ask for mercy. I lay my one life before you now and accept whatever you deem fit." Leafhusk's voice immediately echoes throughout the den, casting a wicked snarl in his direction. It is very clear where Leafhusk stood on the fate of the apprentice, and she can't find herself disagreeing with anything that was said. Wrathpaw is lucky the Lead Warrior was injured, or else they would likely be cleaning his blood off the floor. Roeflame however, broke the formation they had been sitting in, coming to a halt directly in front of the young tom's face. Even though she wasn't near Wrathpaw, the anger that radiated from her former den-mate practically heated the den.

Nightbird solidifies the demand of exile. "There cannot be a place for him in this clan." She had suspected the ebony queen would feel this way, but the fiery hued tabby dipped her chin slightly in agreement to her words. After Nightbird was finished, Roeflame continued where she had left off. Her words were true, as an inexperienced apprentice, he should not have acted as though he knew what was best for the clan. Unlike the other apprentices who had fought on Skyclaw's side, their paws were not stained with blood like his. When Roeflame turned to meet her gaze, she would be met with an uncharacteristically expressionless gaze. The only tell at her irritation was a silent lash of her tail behind her. There were now three against him.

Beside her, Raccoonstripe's judgement comes to a partial surprise. She had expected the tom to be hungry for his blood, to avenge his mother, but he was not outwardly as furious as the former three. His voice is quiet, and he speaks first of mercy, before agreeing to exile. The leader turned to look at him, before leaning to briefly press her side against his. She had gotten to see his mother, and wound continue to be able to see his mother long before he would. The dark tabby had lost so much these past few moons, more than she could imagine. She wanted to speak to him, but this was not the time or place. Howlingstar's grandson speaks up next, claiming his kits know more honor than he, adding another vote towards exile.

After hearing each of them speak, the fiery tabby finally began. "Wrathpaw." Her green gaze settles on him as she rose to her paws. Though she did not pad forward to stand in front of him, the heat of her gaze still bore into his pelt. "My council has spoken, and I will respect their decision." Though guilt started to prickle in her belly at the idea of sending a blind apprentice to his potential death, he had played a crucial part in Skyclaw's takeover. There had been some clanmates who had stood up for him, but there were many that wanted him dead. Stormywing had begged to finish him off, and though she trusted Stormywing, she would not be surprised if Wrathpaw ended up mysteriously dead if he were allowed to stay. Perhaps this was the best mercy she could grant him.

"However, I am not as cold-hearted as the cat you helped become leader. You will remain in the Medicine Den under guard until your injuries are healed. That is for helping Orangepaw. After that, you will be exiled and escorted off of Thunderclan territory."


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  • ooc.
  • FLAMESTAR —— leader of thunderclan , mentoring merlinpaw . storm x lily . littermate to nala, smokey, and nemo ✦ penned by icey !
    afab / she/her / 37 moons & ages every 20ᵗʰ
    widowed / heterosexual / closed to romance
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— difficult in battle
    ★★★★★★★★★

    speech”, 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
    tags — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  • 74170852_bklpiIOmSWVpAVE.png

    a longhaired red tabby with low white and green eyes. flamewhisker's fur is a vibrant hue of red, riddled with thick classic tabby markings. her fur is medium in length, and she has a large, feathery tail. her chest, belly, tail tip, and her paws are dipped white. flamewhisker's eyes are a dark, deep shade of green. her shoulder has a large scar on it from a fight with a dog. she also has a shredded ear from a disagreement with a loner during her time alone before joining thunderclan. on particularly cold days, or sometimes before a major weather change, she will walk with a slight limp from her shoulder injury.
 
  • Sad
Reactions: Deidre
*+:。.。 Like a wolf with its heels snapped at by snarling jaws, Wrathpaw wants to whirl around and defend himself against each set of teeth. No, that's not what I meant! I swear to you, I regret it all! Listen, please, listen, I'm not - I didn't mean - all I had wanted was...was...

He imagines himself in their place, instead. The conversation he'd had with Nightbird all those moons ago took flight within his mind's eye, where color and shapes still exist for an unblemished face. A world where he did everything right, earned his clan-mate's respect, became a warrior - a true warrior - and found his way into the council. He imagined himself standing among them, glaring down at the whimpering fool who begged for mercy with blood still staining his paws.
He wants to stay in that world and close himself to the torment of reality as his actions finally catch up to him. Pretend that his ankles hurt from running alongside his pack-mates rather than the pain of their rejection.

Desperate paws cling to that fantasy, long enough to ride through the turmoil of his judgment. He listens to every word, every punishment, as best he can as his paws quake beneath him. The ground remains unseen, for all he knows he's currently balanced precariously on a lilypad, floating downstream towards a waiting waterfall. Toward's the same fate he'd subjected Howlingstar to.

Leafhusk spills a truth sharper than the claws that tore at Wrathpaw's face. He considers her, and how he'd once felt about her. In his youth, he'd never once thought twice about her history as a kitty-pet. She'd been a lead warrior for as long as he could remember, she was one of Thunderclan's greats - the first cat his parents told him to go to if there was ever an emergency. He remembers when she'd played 'pet' to distract the two legs from a patrol, how the rumors ignited the contempt in Skyclaw's group like a strike of lightning upon a dry clump of weeds. Watching her leave camp with her kitty-pet clanmates in tow, Wrathpaw had felt satisfied. He wonders now if she'd been scared, sent off into the unknown with a league of cats to protect. The strength in her voice, the unwavering loyalty to her clan and those she had lost was...frightening when such power was turned against you. There was no weakness in this woman, none at all, kitty-pet history or not...If Skyclaw had seen this side of Leafhusk - if Wrathpaw had - would any of this have happened? He wished he'd known her better, before now.

Nightbird's revulsion is to be expected, but it hurts no less. He wonders what she sees in him now, if any piece of the boy that fumbled trying to speak to her remained more in her eyes than it ever would again in his own. Between the lines, he knows she wants him dead. The feeling is agonizing, quickly made ironic and hypocritical considering...well, why else is he here? He's surprised, though, that she doesn't outright call for his head. She speaks for president, and the killer balks at the brief mention of his former allies' fates. Sproutberry comes to mind in all his newfound red-stained glory, and he trembles. Fear takes hold, the pathetic kit they know him so well to whimper at the idea of his death, of the starless right without his ancestors, fading into obscurity...he wonders what Nightbird will tell her kits about him, if they'll ever ask. He hopes Twilightkit will keep taking care of her joints and that Bayingkit won't ever grow up to be ashamed of her wild nature. He wishes he'd thought more of them when Skyclaw gave his orders. He wished he'd thought more about Nightbird.

Wishes can get him nowhere, Roeflame is quick to remind him. The cue should cow the killer, but for once the boy feels, although transient, a sudden burst of irritation. A woman who leads so often with scorn and fire, he recalls with a childish grudge her aggression towards those wavering on Skyclaw's side. She'd made Skyclaw's lectures about Thunderclan's internal corruption sound so much graver, her sharp tongue speaking first before ever taking the time to listen. Wishes would get Wrathpaw nowhere and yet, the killer wondered what might've happened if he'd seen a kinder side of his commanding elder. But just the same...what If he'd swallowed his own pride and spoken to her rather than drawing an immediate line between himself and her - us against them? Wrathpaw feels his anger fade, unclipping his claws for the earth he'd dug them deep into. To blame Roeflame, even in some parts, felt so idiotic. After all, would he not admire that same wildfire if he'd stood by her side? Starclan...if only he'd stood by her side.

Raccoonstripe speaks the kindest among them, and it pulls from Wrathpaw a hiccup of a sob. As reasonable as Wrathpaw fights to be, as much as he tries his damndest to understand and accept that his paws were his own when he pushed and held down those who hadn't deserved it...Wrathpaw can't help but hate the man who speaks mercy on his behalf. The man who led the patrol that day filled Wrathpaw's head with terror that his clan was starving. He said they needed to steal for Thunderclan, they needed to defend their kits, and yet, when Howlingstar admonished their efforts, where had the honorable deputy stand-in gone? He let Skyclaw seize control of the chaos, he set the ball rolling and did nothing to stop it! Wrathpaw loathed the dark tabby...but he hated him as much as he hated the passage of time that fossilized his mistakes. A shallow hatred, a fragile one. As though hating Raccoonstripe will somehow ease the burden of blame off his shoulders...It doesn't. He wishes it would. Add it to the pile.

Burnstorm cuts straight with no nonsense in between. Wrathpaw appreciates his conciseness. He's wrong, though. The guilt had gnawed a hole in his spirit the second Pebblestep's eyes dimmed, it just so happened that his guilt wasn't strong enough to consume the terror he felt after. The fear of what he'd done, who he was, and all that would transpire next. Like this. This is what he'd been so scared to face, surrounded by clanmates snapping at his heels, eager for his own death. Their respect is long gone. Their hope in him shattered. Was postponing this treatment worth Howlingstar's life?

Starclan...what a coward Wrathpaw was.

"You should have sought help from one of us. We could've helped you before it escalated into what it had...your mentor could have helped you."

He imagines himself, once more, seated side by side amongst the cats who deserved Thunderclan's honor. He blinks, and he sees himself as he is - as they all know him to be - pathetic with his nose to the floor, blood, and river water soaking his fur and yet his ribs still didn't poke through. All of this because he'd been hungry and yet, none of these cats, before or after, would have ever let him starve.

"I thought Skyclaw was helping" he says, a smile fluttering on his lips. What a joke. Fallowbite had told him it wasn't too late, but it had been. The second he turned away from the cats in this room and asked Skyclaw to answer his questions...it had been too late.

He could hate Raccoonstripe and Roeflame all he wanted, he could wish and beg Nightbird and Leafhusk to listen to him as much as he liked, he could pretend like he was still a boy, a confused, frightened, hungry child until he woke from this nightmare in death...but the truth was he'd always had a choice.
Yes, there were reasons behind it, and yes others could've done what they could to help him, but at the end of the day - of the sun's dimming light and the river's final, weak sputter...it had been his choice.

Flamestar announces her verdict, and the killer lets out a soft breath. There's no fear in him this time. Oddly enough, he finds relief. Not because he evaded execution - he doesn't doubt death will reach him as soon as he leaves Thunderclan's protective walls - but rather, it's nice to have everything finally come to an end.

"Thank you," he isn't sure in what way he can repay her kindness, although he figures leaving quietly as soon as his time is up is all he can do. Still, lifting his head towards Flamestar, the killer says, "and I'm sorry, for everything." It's not enough. It'll never be enough. But he needs her to know.



  • GENERAL:
    Wrath-howl
    DMAB— He/Him
    10 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Brother to Lovelight and Laughblossom
    Thunderclan — apprentice
    Formerly mentored by Wildheart


    COMBAT:
    Physically easy | mentally very easy
    Attack in bold #4a59ff
    injuries: Severely scratched, permanently blind , mentally unwell
    "SPEECH"
 
  • Crying
Reactions: ORANGEPAW.