pafp DO YOU FEEL LIKE A YOUNG GOD? ✧ MUTINY

The coward won't even look her in the eye. Skyclaw ignored her entirely, making his way to the front of the clan to address Howlingstar instead. Her paws begin to move that direction but then Redflower was in her face, sneering at her as if she were something to be laughed at. "Don't be a sore loser, Palefire. He's where he belongs." Her vision turned red and her lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, revealing fangs that longed to rip into her pretty patchwork fur. But Rowanthorn's appearance at her side cleared the fog somewhat, and she managed to pull back and grit her teeth instead. "You're pathetic, and you both deserve to rot together," she hissed furiously, and tried not to think about how much her heart still ached.

Many voices sounded out across the camp in opposition to Skyclaw and his forces, but she struggled to hear his conversation with Howlingstar over all the noise. She hesitated to rip her gaze away from her opponent, knowing that the second she turned her back Redflower would take the opportunity to strike. She could already see the mollie's muscles tensing, prepared to pounce as soon as Palefire let her guard down. But the brush of soft fur against her own distracted her, pulled her attention down to her side where Meadowpaw now pressed against her.

In all her fury and heartache, she hadn't thought to find her apprentice and her gut clenched at her own negligence. Of course, Meadowpaw would be scared, confused, and likely conflicted as her own uncle marched against her great grandmother. She quickly lowered her head to press her muzzle against the girl's ear, a gesture she hoped would be a comfort and a promise to keep her safe. I will keep her safe. But as quickly as she touched red fur, Meadowpaw was pulling away from her, murmuring a soft "I'm sorry" as she went.

Palefire's eyes widened with despair as she watched her apprentice move to her sister's side, a clear indication of where her loyalties had settled. She wanted to feel the same anger she saw reflected in her clanmates narrowed gazes as they, too, watched the scene unfold. But she didn't. She only felt a deep, nauseating sadness for the girl. What else could she do? She was too young to understand the real consequences of such a choice. That was her family, and Palefire knew that was the only thought in Meadowpaw's mind in that moment.

"It's okay," she whispered back brokenly, her voice catching on the words. The rest of the commotion fell away and she gazed deeply into innocent green eyes, now swimming with internal conflict. "It's okay. But it doesn't have to be us or them, Meadowpaw. You can still do the right thing, and it doesn't mean you love your family any less." Words that she'd wished someone would have told her, all those moons ago, when she'd made a terrible mistake for the sake of not letting her friends down. She could've chosen to stay, to protect her clan, and it wouldn't have made her a bad friend. She will not make the same mistake again.

The argument behind her had been momentarily forgotten, but the sudden, sick crack of a body hitting the ground froze her blood. A chilling moment of silence was followed by gasps and screams of dismay all around the camp. Too scared to even breath, Palefire slowly turned to look back, forgetting the threat of Redflower as her icy gaze fell on the still form of her leader. Howlingstar, so fierce, so steadfast, now lay quiet and bloody at the base of the Highrock, where Skyclaw stood looking triumphant. He'd…. He'd actually killed her…

All this time, a part of her had still hoped this was a sick joke; or maybe, he didn't really want to do this. Maybe, he could be talked out of it. But now, as she stared in horror at the dark tabby who had been the only leader she'd ever known, the reality of his crimes finally sank in. Her role model, the first one who had forgiven her after the night of the wolf attack. Howlingstar had been the one who believed in her, who saw that she could still be more than just a nuisance or a sharp tongue. She felt sick, bile rising to the back of her throat and threatening to make her heave. Fresh tears stung her eyes, and she struggled to pull in a shaky breath.

The events that followed were a blur. Flamewhisker tried to reach their fallen leader, but was pushed back by Skyclaw's forces. "Stand down." How could they do that now? They were supposed to just submit, after all this? Mousenose was the first to speak out, and she could do nothing but watch as the young warrior, once so loud-mouthed and irritating, was struck down by Ravenstrike. "Help me." The desperate plea rang sickeningly in her ears. She'd always hated the ebony warrior, and now she wanted nothing more than to tear out her throat. But no one was moving, no one was doing anything, save for the kittypet-blooded members who were rightly trying to flee for their lives.

Her blood boiled. Her hackles rose, and as Skyclaw made the last of his ridiculous commands, she turned to face him. "You're a hypocrite and a coward, Skyclaw. You don't deserve to lead this clan. How dare you stand where she stood, and claim that the kittypets are the problem. Have you forgotten that the same blood runs through your veins as well?" she spat viciously, squaring her shoulders as her tail lashed behind her. The voice in her mind screamed at her to do something, to jump up there where he sat so confidently and rake her claws so deep that the earth ran red with his blood. She had nothing to lose, did she?

But then she spotted Meadowpaw again, standing small in the center of camp, clearly unaware of the position she had just taken. Palefire was still her mentor, regardless of the outcome of this atrocity. It was her responsibility to protect and guide the young tabby. She couldn't do that if she were dead, or if she fled with the rest of her clanmates. She had to stay and make sure that Meadowpaw escaped this nightmare unscathed, and on the right side. So, she would not push back as far as she wanted to. But she could not resist turning back to Redflower, a cold, deranged smirk tracing her lips as she took a small step closer, lowering her voice so only she could hear. "I'm going to kill you." Her words dripped with promised violence. "Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon. I will tear you apart, slowly, and make your beloved rats watch you bleed."

  • [ I know she's being bratty so feel free to beat her up a bit <3 ]
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    PALEFIRE she / her, warrior of thunderclan, 17 moons
    lh lilac lynx point w/ low white and blue eyes
    single, padding after skyclaw / npc x npc / sister to bluestride
    mentoring meadowpaw & ivorypaw / mentored by nightbird
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / all opinions ic
    underline and tag when attacking
    penned by limerence@limericks. on discord, dm for plots.
 
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It is hard to keep up from the nursery. Its thick bramble walls muffle sound and block sight; even scent struggles to distinguish itself against the persistent cloud of milk smell. It is undoubtedly the safest place Yip has ever been kept, but that may be changing tonight.

The inkspot kit had watched cats gather from the mouth of the den for as long as they were able. It was impossible even for a young mind not to feel the tension in the air, the danger that was coming. They have been in danger for much of their life, they are told, so tonight must not be much different, but it is. Someone will die tonight. Yip is certain. He had not felt so sure the night Baying Hound had fallen, but now he knows what death looks like in practice — knows that it will bring its hammer down upon ThunderClan tonight.

Skyclaw talks about the non Clan-born. Yip identifies himself in this group, but somehow, he is exempt from the tom's targeted violence. Is Doepath? She crashes into the nursery and curls around him, though he does not understand her instinct and makes an attempt to wriggle free. He had not been sheltered when Baying Hound died. He is not sheltered now, as Howlingstar drops over the edge to her sure death.

The thick metallic tang of blood dominates ThunderClan's camp. It even worms through the milkscent that masks the nursery, destroying its illusory safety. This den is no hiding place. Skyclaw and his followers know exactly where to look for kittens, kittypet blood or otherwise, and they certainly have the power (if not the stomach) to destroy them. Yip's bisected eyes blow wide, but they do not utter a sound, contrary to their namesake. Their soft kitten ears pin backwards to their skull; their claws unsheathe into the peaty floor.

Nightbird's instruction finally coaxes him to the wall of the den. They tuck their body as small as they can make it, paws tremoring against their will. They should be running. The promise of safety that Howlingstar had made has now shattered. Yip's ribcage feels as though it will collapse in on itself. Baying Hound had never been comfort, but at least her cruelty was familiar — he would give anything to go back to it now.
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  • ooc.
  • YIPPINGKIT —— kit of thunderclan . baying hound x duke . littermate to howlkit and thrashkit, sibling to many ✦ penned by meghan

    a hulking black smoke with low white. striking dual-toned eyes. fluctuates between total apathy and a need to fit in; difficult to befriend, and does not trust easily. unsure of thunderclan as a whole.
    intersex, nb masculine / he they pronouns / 03 moons & ages every 5th
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. a kitten, he can hardly defend himself, but that will not stop him from trying. apt against opponents his age thanks to his sheer size.

    "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
    full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
 

LIGHTNINGKIT . of . THUNDERCLAN
3 moons old (born 07.08.24) / lh silver tabby with green eyes / feminine pronouns
raccoonstripe xx nightbird / little sister to bayingkit, twilightkit, tigerkit, & stormkit
Her mother left them with Tansyshine, and normally, Lightningkit wouldn't dream of being the one to step out of line— but she thinks of Ivorykit and Coltkit, and she wants to be brave more than she can stand being afraid. So the moment her mother disappears, Lightningkit indirectly ambles her way to the entrance, pretending to simply be fiddling with parts of the nursery wall with kitten subtlety until she reaches the mouth. It's there that she peeks out into camp, there that she watches her father snarling at a gathering mass of clanmates, and there that she sees her grandmother fall, her throat captured by Skyclaw. She can't move. Lightningkit knows what death is. Death is the still mouse brought to one of the queens to eat; death is the evil berries hidden for Ivorykit and Coltkit to eat; but death is not Howlingstar. It can't be. She's— she's Howlingstar, she's Grandma, she's daddy's mommy, she's supposed to be here with her family forever!

But Raccoonstripe is crying, and she's never seen that before. And Skyclaw, bloodied, is bearing down on the camp with villainous command. Lightningkit starts to shake. She shoves her paw in her mouth and bites, bites until she tastes blood, but she doesn't wake up. It just hurts, but it doesn't hurt as much as the formless claws scratching at her insides from within. A sob catches. It's angry and despairing, tears muddling the vision of Skyclaw, and she's not strong like Bayingkit or Stormkit but she wants to— to watch him hurt like she does, wants to snap at his delicate nose and make him cry.

Nightbird rushes back and Lightningkit stumbles inside, running on wobbly legs to the corner where she directs her children. Her breaths hitch, reddening paw back in her mouth. The tears are free to pool down her cheeks now, and she is afraid, afraid Skyclaw is going to do the same thing to her parents, maybe even her siblings. Because if he would take her grandmother away, why would he stop at hurting anyone else?

He already has.

Her paw falls and she wails. "I want Grandma ba-back, I want Daddy, he's go-gonna hurt him!"
 
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First he had seen Emberstar's death, now he had bore witness to Howlingstar's fall. How many more leaders would he see be cut down during his life? The shock has Wildheart rooted to the spot and he finds himself without words, but his expression is aghast with the horrors unfolding. Murderers and traitors now sought to rule over ThunderClan.

The hunger to fight was soon making his pelt prickle and he swept his sights round, but as he counted up the numbers he came to realise that there were so many. Just how far had the poison seeped? A fight here and now would be futile. Those who stood against the vermin were stunned and lost, unable to strike like a formidable unit. With immense frustration and grief he came to accept that fighting back could not be done at that moment. With a look of sadness he looked to the dead, and his gaze lingered on Howlingstar's lifeless form for a long time. "I swear I will rid us of these monsters, and I'll make sure our clanmates can return home."

Wildheart turned his attention towards that of Skyclaw, and his expression said it all. Hatred. And a vow that he would kill them the first chance he got. The utter burning fury was clear as day in his amber eyes despite the lack of words. He didn't need to say a thing because his body was screaming it.

 
  • Crying
Reactions: Antiigone
〕CW: death, descriptions of violence.

Honeykit doesnt need to see what's going on outside of the nursery to know it's bad. Hissing, growing, yowling. They can hear it all while sitting beside their mother and father, a terrifying expression on her face as everyone listens to Skyclaw issuing orders like he's the leader. They hear Howlingstar's refusal to stand down, and then a crack. The silence that follows is deafening, and Honeykit feels true fear for the first time in their short life. It feels ridiculous to feel like this. Bayingkit would made fun of them for it, as would all her siblings, they're sure.

Those of kittypet descent are hereby exiled. That. . . that means them, it means their pa, but not their ma. They meet their mom's gaze, and she is now furious. "We're leaving. Right now." Comes her order, voice sharp and low. Sorrelmist is scared, Honeykit knows this - they can smell the fear. Their mother has long gone outside while they stand there with their father. Nightbird tells all the kits to face the wall of the nursery, wanting to shelter them from what is happening in camp. "Skyclaw says we have to leave," They don't want to go and follow his orders, but staying sounds so much worse. Where would they stay?

"You traitor!" Sorrelmist yells at the chimera sitting atop the Highrock, her eyes ablaze. "How dare you stand where she stood. You flea-ridden rogue!" Her claws are unsheathed, and Honeykit's eyes widen as they stare at her, then Waspchaser. The tom notices this, too, and tries to defuse the situation. "Love," He brushes up against her, trying to calm her down. "This isn't worth it, we should just go." He turns around to fetch Honeykit so they can leave together, as a family, but Sorrelmist doesn't stop.

Only those of Kittypet descent are exiled. You must stay, Sorrelmist. Comes the voice of a clanmate parroting Skyclaw's orders. "You will not drive my family apart!" She hisses, stepping closer to the Highrock, only halting when she's intercepted by the tom's minions. "You will regret this, Skyclaw! You will pay for what you've done to ThunderClan! You truly expect me to follow your orders?" Sorrelmist yowls one last time.

"Dear—" Waspchaser begins, only to have his voice caught in his throat at the sight. Skyclaw leaps from the Highrock with such agility he seems almost supernatural. His claws latch onto Sorrelmist as he barrels into her, dragging her down to the dirty and bloodied ground. "Let her go!" The warrior pleads, unable to approach as he and his child were now surrounded by clanmates. Honeykit is cowering beneath him, clearly shaken and terrified of what they saw.

But Skyclaw doesn't stop there. He lunges for Sorrelmist's throat the same way he had done to Howlingstar moments prior, teeth sinking into her flesh and blood spilling from the wound in a horrifying display. "Ma," Comes the low wail of Honeykit, the noise falling on deaf ears as Skyclaw rips their mother's throat. A lesson, to those who dared disobey him. No one was safe, not just the former kittypets. Sorrelmist is left in a pool of her own blood, gurgling and convulsing as in her final moments she attempts to claw at the tom above her. Her jaw is agape, and her eyes gloss over as she lets out her last breath.

Honeykit is reactionless. Their father sobs and falls to the ground, their mate gone just like that - and for what?
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  • ooc. Perms to powerplay Skyclaw given by rae :)
  • HONEYKIT —— kit of thunderclan , mentoring/mentored by name . waspchaser x sorrelmist . littermate to none. ✦ penned by nocthymia
    they/them / 3 moons & ages every 7ᵗʰ
    single / too young
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— combat details here / battle notes

    "speech", 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
    biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  • reference image here
    a longhaired red tabby with low white, vitiligo and dichroic eyes.
 
𓇢𓇢 This is not meant to happen. Howlingstar had named him, had gifted him every name that he has ever worn aside from Laughkit. Bile rises in his throat as Hazel eyes fall upon her bloodied form—still, too still. She is with the stars, now, her last live fleeing her at the fangs of her own grandson. Traitorous, kin-slaying Skyclaw makes his announcements, oversees more murders, and Laughblossom looks to the sky. The clouds overhead wobble, hardly visible through a veil of thick tears. There's a lump in his throat, and it is choking him. He can't look at the bodies anymore—but still he sees Mousenose each time he blinks. Each time his eyes close, there's a new vision of her smiling face, of petals strewn through her pretty fur. Now, the only blooms that will decorate her are those for her funeral. She deserves more, so much more. ThunderClan deserves more, and yet their deputy orders them to stand down.

He had never wanted this. He only wanted peace. He wanted everyone in ThunderClan to be friends again, to put their differences in viewpoints aside and act like the star-blessed clan they are meant to be. He knows, now. This is a hopeless situation. ThunderClan may be retaken from Skyclaw someday, but that day will not be today. And if it is ever retaken, it will never be the same. Wrathpaw will never be the same… his baby brother has joined these cats' sides, and what he was broken cannot be repaired. He cannot stay here. He will never be safe here, as long as Skyclaw leads and Flamewhisker will not challenge him. Laughblossom cannot… he cannot.

Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. His chest aches, fear and betrayal burning bright. "Well, sigh. I suppose this is the end of my tenure," the tom breathes out, shaking his head. His voice is soft, meant for only those around him, but it carries with it his usual dramatic flair. "I will live out the rest of my shameful, shameful days in exile, then…" With that, the warrior turns for the entrance, attempting to keep his steps as steady and sure as possible despite the obvious trembling of them.

  • ooc:
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  • LAUGHBLOSSOM ❯❯ he/him, warrior of thunderclan
    𓇢 silky-furred chocolate tabby with white spotting and hazel eyes. joyous and loud, but deeply protective of his clan.
    𓇢 brother to lovelight, joywing, wrathpaw, pridepaw, merrypaw
    𓇢 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    𓇢 penned by foxlore
 

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-
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The imagery of wolves once again comes to Roeflame's mind when Skyclaw appears at the entrance, trickling in with his misfit band of exiles and murders. The Lead Warriors stomach twists, her nose crinkles, and yet Howlingstar still addresses her grandson with grace, reason. Because that was who her leader was. The back and forth between matriarch and descendant was heart-hammering, Mottledpaw's show of support sparked a ripple of horrifyingly similar echoes.

Roeflame keeps her young in her sights, but doesn't stop Coalpaws burning outcries. Roeflame cannot open her mouth, cannot move- not as she watches Smokefur barricade Flamewhisker from reaching Howlingstar, the warrior is grown enough to know forsaking herself would do nothing here. When Skyclaw does the unthinkable, when he grips Howlingstar by her throat and throws her to the ground Roeflame feels something rip from her throat, a burst of rage and shock and grief.

Mousenose does what she could not, her former frenemy stands defiant, and is slaughtered because of it. The brassed molly cannot let herself feel the weight of what was happening before her, she might crumble. Instead, Roeflame darts to her sons side, who weeps beside his fallen leader and wraps her tail around him. Tight and secure, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Don't look at him, don't speak to him. Stay close." The mother tries to keep her breath steady, but it splinters when she lets herself look upon her leaders still, broken body. She feels trembling Littlepaw press against her other side. She had seen Hopepaw run to the medicine den, and kept Dovepaw and Coalpaw close since Howlingstars return, but she only had two eyes, and they needed to be everywhere. Any fear the grief-stricken Lead Warrior feels she forces herself to wear nothing but steel on her expression, Skyclaw would not see her cower, no one would.

What would become of her family?

What would become of them all?
  • 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.

 
"Those of kittypet descent are hereby exiled."

Tybalt stood, muscles tensed as he watched Howlingstar fall. He had never been particularly fond of the tabby leader, but he had never wished to see her slaughtered. Mousenose too, crumpled into a heap, and a low rumble rose from Tybalt's throat as his gaze settled upon Skyclaw. Kin-killer. Kit-poisoner. Foul offenses, dripping with a rotten tang that tainted any sense of honor the traitorous tom and his followers might have once carried. Tybalt's long front claws sank into the dirt, his wavy-furred tail lashing furiously. Everything he had ever learned, ever held close to his soul, told him to leap. To spring forward with outstretched claws and sink his teeth into the windpipes of these murderers and tear out each of their windpipes, one by miserable one. For ThunderClan, for the good of them all.

A fight to kill these monsters would be an honorable undertaking, even if Tybalt himself was struck down in the process. But here, now, despite his deepest desires, it would be a quick and simple loss on his end. It was a pitiful thing to admit. But this was not a fight over food, or over shelter. It was not a battle he could win with brute strength. Getting rid of Skyclaw would require a different tactic, careful and well plotted. It would take time, and stealth, but he would do it. He would make sure that Skyclaw fell, with a painful and torturous death that fit his crimes.

 

it happens too fast. she's exiting the warriors den before she can fully grip consciousness, blinking the sleep from her eyes ( dawn patrol had worn her out ) and she thinks someone had shoved her awake, shoves her again towards the maw of caverrn and she stumbles, picks up her step and shudders into the light just in time to hear the sickening crack - chk of howlingstar's body hitting the dirt. she doesn't comprehend that it's howlingstar's body until the howls break out, and she is suddenly, sharply aware. time slows, feels as though moments pass in the time it takes to find her siblings amongst the crowd -- emberface and sunshinespot, two of their dwindling family's survivors.

she finds them, blessedly, in the time for cats to emerge from the crowd, ringing highrock and skyclaw . . backing up the remaining, broken thunderclanners towards the gorse tunnel. she hears it, amongst the chaos and noise and rush of blood in her ears. kittypet blood. exiled. she had to get to her little siblings, takes a step towards them and witnesses the shattered faces of her leader's family as she does. she's never seen raccoonstripe cry. she's never seen howlingstar fall, and not get up -- but she does not move, not even as snarling goons push forward, shove the crowds and her kin back. her ears pin, shrinking back, despite her size trying to be unseen as she ribbons through the baying crowd towards embarface, sunshinespot. then, she'd only need to find . .

mousenose. her voice springs from the rest of them, and freckleflame opens her mouth instinctively to say quiet, be quiet, mousebrain! emerald eyes plead, be quiet, and come with me. we have to leave, we can be on our own. we'll survive, if we're together . . she thinks, even as ravenstrike peels forward like a viper, like the snake that had taken wolfwind from her -- them. it happens in seconds, before freckleflame has the mind to say something or close her gaping mouth, one. what would be a plead is instead a strangled noise as she watches the blood let from a fresh wound to her neck. she bleeds, and bleeds, and freckleflame thinks back to when they were kits and sparkwing played a little too rough.

owowow! high pitched, attention - seeking. she'd been annoyed, then. im bleeding!

in gleaming sun, crimson paints her throat, the ruff of her chest ( built like rabbitnose moreso than sunfreckle, the only in their litter to ). she says help me -- squeaks in the way her namesake would, life seeped by the very claws that drain hers now. she collapses, and freckleflame cannot scream. she only makes a noise ; a long, tensed noise, a keen she hadn't known she could make. like a wounded bird, a hit fawn ; something a cat shouldntbe capable of. she drags her paws forward, stumbles the rest of the way towards and in front of emberface, sunshine . . sunnyshine. she still can't take her eyes off of the mess ravenstrike ( ravenstrike . . she'd shared a den with her only hours ago. ) had made of her sister.

there remains only a husk of who she'd known to be loud, opinionated, energetic. who she'd had to apologize for, sheepishly, when they'd inevitably snap and stomp off in the middle of conversation. who she'd known to be obsessed with lightstrike . . and anyone, really, that gave her attention. until she was bored, of course, and then . . and now . . she wants to vomit. her stomach turns, and all she can manage is a garbled, " please . . " let me take her body. there was nothing to bury of our father but scraps and fur, tears stream her face, darken the black - red along fluffy cheeks. her throat clicks, voice breaking when she pleads a pathetic, " please let me take her with us. i have to -- she's gotta be put to rest, too. "

she would leave. they would find somewhere to be, somewhere safe as she'd felt when howlingstar had lain eyes upon her -- named her freckleflame, for her fiery spirit. for the third time in her life, freckleflame is run from her home ; waiting, crouched, only for ravenstrike to let her scruff the remnants of her kin and drag her shell into the outlands with the rest of them.

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  • i.
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  • AND I AM A WITNESS WATCHING IT
    FRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. TWENTY MOONS OLD. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY! NAMED A WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORING BRAVEPAW! PENNED BY ANTLERS -----------------------------------------
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    she / her, eldest daughter of rabbitnose and the late sunfreckle. big, fluffy cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. she is fire - forged, smoldering ; something bright and voracious, radiant as the blazes that once raged through her homeland. shades of vibrant russet, dousing swathes of shadow and interwoven with ribbons pale cream come to drape like licks of flame over her hulking form. a heft of roundness settles comfortably upon her form in adulthood, padding muscle hardened by her life in the forest and yet still partially concealed beneath a tangled thicket of undergrowth - laden pelt. warriorhood had brought her to full height ; kittypet lineage showing itself in glimpses of rotund paws and tufted, long - furred toes set upon thick, tabby - splotched limbs. she is broad shouldered and square - jawed, wild cheek fur like the blazing edges of a red sun — a mirrors image of her late father, sunfreckle, and just as warm.
    A LARGE, ATHLETIC MAINE COON MOGGY. somewhat brutish in the wake of her family's staggering loss, bull - headed and hardy with something to prove, freckleflame will often find herself in border disputes as an unsurprisingly formidable opponent. a slow but hard & heavy hitter.
 
Redflower watches with gleaming golden eyes as Skyclaw's teeth sink into Howlingstar's throat. There's a sickening crack as her body slumps; there's a plume of dust and leaf litter as he shoves what's left of their former leader away from the Highrock. He has taken her place, just as promised, just as she'd always believed he should. She has never seen him so powerful; he squares his shoulders beneath his thick black-and-brown pelt and immediately begins to restructure their Clan into sensible order. He banishes the kittypet-blooded warriors, and Redflower adds a yowl of approval.

Of course, Sunfreckle's foolish daughter protests, dares to test the limits of Skyclaw's mercy. Ravenstrike is quick to extinguish that fire, and another cat — Sorrelmist, one of the queens — is quick to fall beside her. She watches the blood with an unsteady gaze; she had been denmates to these cats only days ago, had played with their kits, had basked beside them in the sun, had run her tongue through their pelts...

It's for the best, she tells herself, and she tears her amber gaze away. This is Skyclaw's ThunderClan now. She squares her shoulders, eyeing the crowd for further dissent. There are lashing tails; there are yips and yowls of protest; but no one else steps out of line.

Until Palefire speaks up again. The light-pelted warrior's voice drips with venom: "I'm going to kill you. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon. I will tear you apart, slowly, and make your beloved rats watch you bleed." Redflower's fury sweeps through her, freshly-ignited. She raises her claws and aims to smack them across Palefire's muzzle. "Back down before you really get hurt, you mousebrain," she snarls, the fur beginning to spike along her spine. "Remember this moment when you think I have not been merciful to allow you to live."

A distinct wail tears her attention away from her enemy. Freckleflame crumples beside her sister's body, and Redflower's mouth twitches, her whiskers trembling with suppressed feeling. "Let me take her with us," she begs, and Redflower murmurs, "Take it. We don't want it here."

She draws her head up, strength flowing through her, the strength of TigerClan. She and her companions have brought a new dawn to the Clan who had forsaken her, and she will relish in tearing away the cobwebs until it's a ThunderClan they can all be proud of.

  • ooc:
  • Redkit . Redpaw . Redflower, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — "speech", thoughts, attack
    — 14 moons old, ages realistically on the 15th.
    — mentored by NPC ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
    — thunderclan warrior. npc x npc, gen 1.
    — currently mated to n/a.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh tortoiseshell with low white and pale yellow eyes. bright, spiteful, impressionable.

 

And just like that, Merlinpaw's earth crumbled before her, and deep shadow bled through the fragments of her world.

Skyclaw spoke upon the throne where Howlingstar once stood proud, and yet Merlinpaw's ears did not parse through the callousness of the kin-killer's words, as though his verses molded a kingdom of clay and dirt. It was no kingdom that she wanted to be part of, she knew for a fact, and yet there lie no courage to flutter to even the bile within her throat. Instead, there lie only the truth that golden gaze splayed upon, for it was helpless upon the face of a roiling, vile chaos. The metallic stench of blood razed through her nostrils, as though it were frost crusting at the marl, inextricable and intolerable to she who had never faced true strife before this mutiny. Screaming, caterwauling, mourning - it all rested discordantly upon the ends of her senses, cruelty as marginalia of her hummingbird heartbeat. "I'm scared! P-Please, I, I don't want to die! I don't want to be a 'prentice any-nymore!" The blue tortoiseshell scrambled towards whichever one of her family had been closest, as if they could shake the mire that plagued Thunderclan, as if simply burrowing her eyes into their fur would wake her. Was this the life of a warrior, to kill and to usurp and to die?

( Searching for her family :'3 )
 
[ cw for disillusion + gore ]

Sunshine cannot process the world he lives in. Not when blood coats his gnarled and matted coat so thoroughly, he can feel it seeping to his skin.

Where had he been? He was in camp - was he talking to someone? Was he partaking in the gossip or sleeping, maybe? He was in camp - there's blood all over me, where did it come from? There's bodies, bodies like the wolves left, bodies in pieces, blood, blood. His blood? Not his blood. He's not hurting, But you are. But I am. Mousenose's blood? No, that's on Emberface. Why is it on Emberface? Bodies, bodies of cats he knows, bodies of family. Mousenose.

Who was he with? Doepath - no, Braveheart. No... maybe he was with Mousenose or Emberface? Then how did he make it over here, with Sorrelmist dead mouselengths away, her throat torn from her body and spat unceremoniously to the ground by his paws? Who did that? Was it you? No, no - the blood (there's so much blood) is not on his tongue. It spreads though, it is syrupy and too-deep of a red and it yet it spills no different than a river would. Sorrelmist. Sorrelmist. What was he doing here?

He was... He was there, with Doepath. Her sister had followed... followed Skyclaw in. That's when the mess of it all started. Doepath shouted to her siblings, an order to stay out of the way, to stay safe - did he leave her side to ensure that? Did it work? Sunshinespot's green eyes twitch as he surveys the camp, narrowly missing Nightbird as she storms into the nursery. There's another body. Howlingstar? Is that her, next to Raccoonstripe? Why had no one stopped -

"Go, kittypet," says the voice beside him. Sunshinespot trembles, looking to Skyclaw with a pinpricked gaze. His maw is soaked, his teeth are stained. There is nothing behind his eyes. "Go haul the body to the gorge for all I care," the new leader says. His leader? He's exiled. Does Skyclaw rule over him still? Will it be his body, his blood on the ground next? Everything feels cold. "Don't make me tell you again," he says.

"Yes sir," Sunshinespot replies, his unblinking stare slowly falling ahead of him once again as he notches his teeth into Sorrelmist's scruff. He can't pause to apologize to her family for doing nothing, he cannot find Doepath or her siblings, or Braveheart and his. In his terror, he cannot even see his siblings as they beg to bring Mousenose with them. The world remains a haze as he trudges past them, strictly walking a path with no chance to escape.​
 
FMLR8dG.jpeg

Meadowpaw is not certain what she had expected. Her uncle had made his intentions clear from the moment he had ordered Howlingstar's death. But surely he wouldn't have actually let her drown to death, she had rationalized, surely he had known she had one lives to spare, that she would wash up on shore and be just fine. All of this was just some elaborate ploy to scare her into doing the right thing - into stepping down. The right thing her mentor's voice had echoed you can still do the right thing, and it doesn't mean you love your family any less "I-" she starts to say but nearly chokes on the tears that now flow freely down her face as she looks with a glassy expression at the fallen figure of her grandmother, splayed out in the dust with blood coating her throat. Her family flocks to her, weeping openly, Raccoonstripe looking weaker than she had ever seen him. Voices around her call out, wail their grief, but Meadowpaw stands rooted to the spot. She didn't think- in her mind there had been no possibility where this happened. Why hadn't Howlingstar just taken Skyclaw's offer, she could have just stepped down, handed the clan peacefully over to him. It would have been better that way, right? Then there would have been no need for this violence, this bloodshed.

But then another cat cries out, and she can do nothing but watch as Mousenose is slain. Her jaws part Help me the cry reverberates into her very core and suddenly Mousenose and Howlingstar are someone different. Her mother - what had her mother's dying words been? The fallen warriors pleading voice would haunt her for moons to come.

And then it happens like slow motion, Palefire says something that, in her infinite grief, Meadowpaw does not quite catch and Redflower is raising her paw, claws out to strike at her mentor. "NO!" She cries out, as if that word alone could stop what was happening, make everything right. She flings herself forward. To do what, she's uncertain. It doesn't matter anyways, by the time she is there the damage has already been dealt. Blood pearls on the surface before running down Palefire's face like water off the roof of the nursery after a storm. "Please-" a hiccup "Please don't..." she's not sure if she's talking to Redflower or Palefire, all she knows is she wants this to stop.

She is thankful then, that Redflower stays her claws, that she shows mercy to her mentor and it is only when her uncles new mate turns tail that Meadowpaw collapses, falls to the ground and covers her eyes with her paws, as if that could block out the horror of what was happening around her as she fell apart, sobbing and hiccuping. "I dont- hiccup I-I don't know what hiccup what to do" in that moment, all of the bravado she had held onto since birth is gone, replaced by what she truly has been all along, a frightened kit who just wanted her mother.
EpC61GT.png

  • oZHYGDl.jpeg

  • 84967382_V32sMk7nP8HRBgb.png
    MEADOWPAW THUNDERCLAN KITTEN ; SHE / HER
    LIGHTSTRIKE X MOONWHISPER SISTER TO SCARLETPAW & MOTTLEDPAW ; MENTORED BY PALEFIRE
    A large fluffy red tabby kitten with a white chest, stomach, tail, muzzle and stripe running along her back. Her eyes are a deep, forest, green and in her pelt one can usually find flowers woven
    easy in battle + no formal training
 
. ° ✦ For so long Braveheart believed he would always know the right thing to do. That the path of justice and courage felt so sure, that knowing what was right and wrong was so clear that it was impossible to get them confused. Evil had to be purposeful act, because who in their right mind couldn't see the obvious answer in doing good?

Where Braveheart stood he could see the divide so clearly. Skyclaw and his supporters rallied against Howlingstar and her loyal warriors, kittypet-blooded and not. Reason was a lost cause, shouts of protest and demands for submission echoed throughout the ravine, loud enough that it made his ears ring. Some of his Clanmates yowled to Skyclaw for kin he had shunned and Braveheart could only cringe away, a pit of dread sinking in his stomach as he felt things would only get worse.

They did- it got so much worse. The tom ascended to the queens rocky throne only to dislodge her, brutally, and her body is thrown unceremoniously to the ground below. Braveheart gagged at the sound of her collision and sharply turned his head away to find Coalpaw and Hopepaw. Hazepaw and Cardinalpaw, too.

Skyclaw demands the remaining warriors of kittypet-blood to leave, an uneasy keen reverberates from his chest as he sees Sunfreckle and Rabbitnose's children react. Mousenose fought, and is given no mercy. Cut down viciously as she defended her rightful place, her home. Would Sunshinespot be next, Emberface? He can hardly find them in this twisting crowd of chaos, or even hear his friends over the sound of his own heart racing.

StarClan, please let them leave. Should he go with them? Would it be wrong to remain with his Clan when it hurt so many?

I have to stay. He decided, painfully.

"Hey, stick with me." He came to Coalpaw first, who seemed ready to jump in with his claws instead of his head. The tom held no interest in fighting an overwhelming battle with those he shared dens with. Not now, at least, his only concern being the safety of his kin. "We're safer together, okay?" Braveheart caught sight of Hopepaw lingering within the medicine den with Orangepaw briefly, a silent sigh of relief to an answered prayer that he was safe.

His heart hurt. His head couldn't stop spinning. What were they to do now? Grieve, and wait for the morning?

"Lets go..." What would his parents do now? He could see her gathering them all and trying to keep all five of them wrapped within her fluffy tail. Batwing would speak out of course, but would he fight? Maybe he would have encouraged them to sit tight, wait for the chance to make it all right again. Because they couldn't stay like this forever, right? If Skyclaw were to lead them... surely StarClan would not bless him as a usurper?

"Lets go get Hopepaw and the others. We'll sit vigil tonight." He couldn't think of anything else right now. Braveheart struggled to predict how the following days would occur, he would have to wait this our for now.
° . . °
  • ooc:
  • BRAVEHEART — HE/HIM ・ 11 MOONS ・ THUNDERCLAN & WARRIOR ・ PENNED BY beatae!
    A Longhaired chocolate tabby with a white locket and deep blue eyes. A large cat who stands tall and proud. His coat is thick with long wispy curls. Severe scars from owl talons stretch across his shoulders and another that starts from his back down his left thigh.
 

Campionsong had watched kingdoms fall upon his thread of life, and it seemed that it was Thunderclan's turn. What a shame, came the rather inappropriate thought as he watched it happen before him, that it would happen here, too.

Like ripping the sanguine flesh from the freestone, Skyclaw tore away the mutiny that hid beneath their noses, an unsanctimonious and profane act to even the sun. Howlingstar and Mousenose bled out from the blade, as the pooling blood washed away the earth, open wound that would make their divines weep. It was not until Skyclaw declared himself the usurper that the knot in his stomach had only tightened, only grounding him to what reality had befallen him, and the veil of fantasy that had been unceremoniously plucked and soaked in the same scarlets. Panic settled into the silver tabby's heart, as though the quoins of his being crumbled and bowed, for even safe havens unravelled themselves in due time. He of nomad's blood felt the twinge of a temptation within spindled legs, the urge to run far away. But you are not a coward. Not anymore. You cannot afford to be. Without a witty quip to accompany the dire hour, the tomcat quickly made his way to the elder's den, as though his gait had hardened itself in petrous urgency and whittled itself in whetstone sharpness.

( Looking for any of his family, whether it be Swiftdawn, his parents, or his kits )
 

She is still bitterly numb when Fallowbite arrives, named for her sharper tongue and feral-esque nature. She's at rest now. Is she? Antlerbreeze's orange eyes sharpened with a bite of anger, something that only reared it's ugly head for today, for the things that happened today, for the sickening crunch she kept hearing, for Raccoonstripe's approaching tearful face, for her kin starting to swarm.

She pushes to her paws, sways with uncertaintly. Fallowbite has turned to threaten her clanmates, threaten the cats that used to follow Howlingstar. Howlingstar, Howlingstar. She can't be dead. Her eyes steal back towards the bloodied body again, and her heart is catching in her throat. Antlerbreeze's vision swims, her ears lower, and she turns to stalk away from that of the spotlight. Other cats fall- Mousenose, a queen- how heartless- and she is.. convicted.

Skyclaw- she will never call him by whatever forsaken name Starclan may give him- orders they remain for Howlingstar. Orders them to send her off nicely, yeah? She feels acid hot words at the tip of her tongue, face twisted with conviction, anger, a willingness to lash back and put her shields up. What right does he have to ask for that? What star-forsaken right does he have? Her head turns, perhaps to spill out the verbal fire burning in her lungs, just as Palefire is lashed with a blow from the homewrecker herself, only to catch sight of Doepath bounding to the nursery.

Antlerbreeze is then rocked with a soft realization- and her vision shifts towards Fallowbite. Towards a visage she has known and studied so well, time and time again. Safety. Her ears twitched, eyes snapping towards the nursery again, then back to Fallowbite. And if they met eyes, her eyes hardened just enough. I do not forgive you, yet. I'll work with you. She conveyed, without words spoken, a bond between those marred by their mother.

She stops then, sinking to the ground not too far from Howlingstar's body. Starclan, where have you gone?
  • "speech"
  • ANTLERBREEZE she/her, warrior of thunderclan, twelve moons.
    LH cinnamon lynx sepia with low white. smaller body, agile and slippery, fits really well in small gaps in the underbrush. soft spoken but strong and determined.
    previously mentored by howlingstar / / mentoring no one
    padding after no one / / sibling to fallowbite and doepath
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
There is chaos and outrage. Cats cry and plead and yowl - his siblings, his Clanmates, all caught in a turmoil. In the midst of it all, Shroudedpaw stands attentive with wide eyes whose cores are narrowed to slits. He searches deep when Howlingstar is thrown off the highrock for a sign, for a meaning. Ultimately, he tells himself that he's seen this before.

His mentor stands against Skyclaw, and the apprentice finds the strength not to stand at her side. It's a death sentence - and she soon proves it. Mousenose's end is swift and final, without mercy or hesitance, and the boy finds a deep sorrow in the loss of his first mentor, who had been unfulfilling but at least kind to him.. but it is soon overshadowed by disappointment. How could she be downed to quickly? How could she not fight back with her life depending on it? How.. unbecoming.

Shroudedpaw hears the voices of his siblings and, while the kittypets are being driven out, he finally makes a headcount. They comfort each other and cry, cursing the evils that have befallen their Clan, and a twinge of guilt stabs at his heart. Should he be there at their side and cry with them? Well.. someone in this family has to stay strong, and luckily the stars have blessed him with a knowledge the others will never know.

Grey eyes flick up to Skyclaw, who stands tall on the highrock. Like an endless shadow, he blots out ThunderClan's light - and like that fateful night many moons ago, Shroudedpaw knows the sun will prevail once more, in due time. He looks back to his siblings, confident in that he has their purpose all figured out. They will prevail.

Stay strong, my kin. Our time will come soon.

Illustration2.png
SHROUDEDPAW ( he/him )​

mousenose[/s].]✦



( ooc ) disclaimer that this is ic thoughts/opinions only and shrouded is not part of or oocly foreshadowing a larger plot <3 he just thinks he's special
 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- his eyes dart back and forth and the tom cat nearly says something yet again before he is cut off by claws digging deeply into the left side of his face. the sudden force is enough to make him fall to the ground, the air in his throat caught, claws gripping in the ground as his eyes widen. his body shakes and he's lost his voice completely, shutting his eyes and flinching away from the voice.

"shut up! this is starclan's will, and you will obey, got it?"

yewflame hisses and orangepaw whimpers quietly, nodding his head. he... he shouldn't have come out here. his gaze slowly peels open and he looks towards the medicine cat den. he hopes that hopepaw is okay. but for now he can't even move. he's scared– more scared than he's ever been in his life. he wishes it would stop– what has happened to his home?

"i-i'm sorry... i didn't me..mean to... I'm..."

sorry. he's sorry. he won't speak out of turn again. he will do exactly as they say, if it makes them happy. he just wants the pain to stop.

// powerplay permission given by ryn !

 
*+:。.。 He was dreaming.

He had to be.

He watched, his position in time and space so distant and vague he could very well not be within existence at all, as the events unfold before him. He's watching a different universe, one that he spies as fantastically as though through a puddle, or curtained behind the cosmos. He's here, but he's not really here. It can't possibly be his paws that creep from the shadows, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with cats bathed in blood and wrapped in shadows. No, only in a land of hazy ideas and fragmented imagination could a version of Wrathpaw exist who confidently - audaciously - served a cat who climbed the sacred pillar of leaders to face off so confidently - so audaciously - against a woman who was his kin. A woman who was everyone's kin. A woman whose strength remained palpable yet fictitiously fragile soaked in the waters of a memory of a memory. In this world he finds himself in, Howlingstar is pushed over the edge of a cliff and drowned. Died. But she's right here, right before him.
So...was this not truly a dream?
Did he dare allow himself to sigh - to gasp - a breath of relief?

In the real world, Howlingstar lived, and Wrathpaw wasn't a killer.

Yet, the tendrils of sleep persist, freezing Wrathpaw in place - though the ground is far, far away from his sense of touch - so all he can do is watch. He watches Skyclaw challenge his leader. He watches as Howlingstar pleads for her grandson to see reason. He watches as Flamewhisker tries to fight her way to Howlingstar's side, only to get knocked back by a merciless swat from Smokefur. Flamewhisker's body hitting the ground makes Wrathpaw's ears pop!
He hears now, the caterwauling all around. How much louder the voices on Skyclaw's side are. The side he stands on.
The ground isn't real, this is all just a vision, so Wrathpaw doesn't speak.

Howlingstar's second death is quick.
Once again, the woman is pushed over the edge of a landmark her paws must've touched a million times before this moment. What did it feel like, to lose your grip on the edge? Was it like the last groom from your mother's tongue before sending you off to become an apprentice? Did it scrape your paws with the finality of a last, pained look from a friend who'll never again accept that title, not from you, not ever again? Did it strike her like the melancholic ache of homesickness, or leave her betrayed like a sturdy branch that should've been there for you to grab hold of, snapping instead just as you dared to put all your vulnerable weight upon it?

In all honesty, Wrathpaw couldn't say he loved Howlingstar. He knew her in the same way he knew the sun, or the leader's rock. A steady, constant figure in a life that felt endlessly long yet so temporarily dramatic. No blood was shared between them nor fond memories to keep them anchored to one another. Just a blind sense of duty...and a nameless faith born of expectation. Howlingstar was once an immortal figurehead who spoke light into the darkness and painted the world in shades of black and white for Wrathpaw's big round eyes and miniature skinny frame to easily digest. Then, she became a mad woman, a crooked elder who served her time, dousing murals in odd shades and hues that seemed wholly unrecognizable, and unacceptable, forming a world without rhyme or reason without the humbleness to accept criticism. It had become Wrathpaw's turn to change the painting - the world and he...he'd thought that if he took command, dipped his paws in the vibrant ichor of buttercup pollen and red berry juice that...that maybe he could...

It's not a dream.


He feels the ground again, trembling beneath his paws, only when Howlingstar's body crashes hard enough to reverberate the entire clearing. His paws. His paw. He feels it all. He feels through them Howlingstar's bones shatter, her soul dissipating. He feels her soft fur, dry and drenched, as though he's once again shoving her over the edge. He feels her blood, sticky and hot like sweat, like horror. He feels nothing beneath his paws, like a body left empty of its contents. A body without a spirit. A body without a heart.

Sweeping his gaze over the crowd is an exhausting task. The screams and cheers ring like a jarring cacophony - predators and prey struggling to outdo one another, a hawk's cheering screech as it hooks its claws about the panicked tweets of a sparrow. A horrible song, one that rings of death no matter your perspective.
If he allowed his voice to join the others, what sound would he make?
He sees Glowingpaw in the crowd, and Lovelight too. He sees Wildheart and Antlerbreeze, Laughblossom, denmates, and friends, role models and caretakers, and...

And he's on the other side.


This wasn't a dream.
But that didn't mean it wasn't a nightmare.
  • GENERAL:
    Wrathpaw
    DMAB— He/Him
    10 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Brother to Lovelight, Joywing, Laughblossom || Pridepaw, Merrypaw
    Thunderclan — apprentice
    Mentored by Wildheart


    COMBAT:
    Physically mediocre | mentally very easy
    Attack in bold #4a59ff
    injuries: None currently , mentally unwell
    "SPEECH"