border DON'T BE AFRAID TO GET LOUD \ thunderclan dusk patrol

"Leave nothing unmarked." Raccoonstripe addresses not only Scarletpaw, but the rest of the patrol that filters behind him. The tabby's tone is brisk, but there is an edge to it that even he is afraid of. His steps are stiff, his paws crunching leaves bathed in sunset-orange glow. "It wasn't even a moon ago they saw fit to try and seize some of our territory. Make sure they think twice about crossing our border again."

The white-mawed tabby makes it a point to rub his body against a clump of foliage. His burning dark gaze rakes the figures who appear over the border, easy-to-spot where there is no undergrowth to lurk in.

He does not greet them, today. There is no insolent smile for his SkyClan neighbors. He is itching to unsheathe his claws, in truth — to burn off frustrations that have been simmering beneath his pelt for days now — but he does not speak the first word. Let that be on their conscience, if they choose to provoke me.

  • ooc: he is very obviously looking for trouble sorry
    tagging @BURNSTORM @SILVERSUN @Scarletpaw but no need to wait :3
  • 74327127_amPwOaY4eGaGkj8.png
  • Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
    — "speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 46 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
    — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Scarletpaw ; 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.


 
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Radio Silence ♥

Wasn't long before that a patrol had attempted to gather more territory for Skyclan only for Thunderclan to quickly lash back, something Bumblebee did not blame them for and yet more than ever with so many kits at their border and leaf-bare not far behind, they needed some extra land to make it though until new-leaf. Even if the can was filled with kitty-pets, or daylight warriors. The clan still needs to worry over those who did not have another means to feed themselves.

Still, when the patrol of Thunderclan came into view Bumblebee dipped his head in greetings before noting the angry silence of an understandable reason to not wish to engage in a conversation with their neighbors before turning to look at his clanmates also on the patrol, a twitch of his tail before moving to mark their side of the border. There was no point in him even trying to converse with the Thunderclanners when none would understand what the mute was trying to say in the first place. So, he'll allow his patrol mates to do that.
"speak""Thoughts"
 

If it was Howlingstar who'd told you to kill kittypets, would you have done it?

The question was at the forefront of his mind whenever his patrols made their way towards ThunderClan's borders, the nausea that crept within his stomach confirmation that ThunderClan himself could not give him, the bile in his throat naught but a reminder that he wouldn't have a solid answer if Orangetar had asked him to do the same. Many ThunderClanners crossed his mind at the thought, none moreso than Howlingstar's own kin, the one who had been hellbent on causing problems for his home and granted small mercies based on what Silversmoke could only presume to be his lineage. The coat of an umber weasel slinked into view as the tom was making his rounds and, as if momentarily surprised that a devil could appear when thought about, snapped his head towards the enemy.

His own maw was kept taut and tufted ears were kept remarkably sky-pointed despite a recent loss at these borders, eyeing the neighbours as if expecting them to trespass at any moment. There was no apprentice to give a difficult lesson to, no words he could share with his mute clanmate or others who found their claws couldn't make a dent in the tension. All Silversmoke could do was stare and silently mark the borders, sliding his side against a long fallen log.


 

While she didn't agree with the fact the ploy to claim territory for their own wasn't approved by Orangestar she can't say that she held fault in her clanmates for doing it. Maybe it's bias that motivates her, her own kits and her half siblings are born now. Without the rest of the nursery that alone is seven more mouths to feed. It was funny to her that SkyClan would face such a boost of life the season before the time where hunting is going to get difficult. ThunderClan hid behind their prey stealing in defense of kits, so why can't SkyClan indulge itself in that same leniency? In truth, that's a very selfish thought, one that is blinded by a simmering anger that's never quite quelled. They had been dealt with by Howlingstar right? That's what they're told but she finds it hard to believe.

She scoffs at the sight, glancing at Silversmoke and Bumblebee then across to Hollypaw. Neither clan should break the warrior code, she isn't going to go do that herself but the irony is palpable. Still, she brings herself forward, gesturing for her apprentice to follow Silversmoke's lead and brushed her cheek against a bush. Watching their patrolling neighbours continue to ever so dutifully mark their border brings a laugh of disbelief from her, it borders on mocking but she holds her tongue.

Despite her distaste for ThunderClan she would not be the potential reason why her apprentice gains scars similar to his littermate. "Can you make sure our scent is on that tree over there, Hollypaw?" She asks with a kind smile, gesturing to a pine that was a decent distance from the borders edge. A precaution she supposes, who knows what ThunderClan might try, they clearly have shown a lack of respect before at Raccoonstripe's command, who's to say they wouldn't do it again?

// IC opinions </3 (also apprentice tag @HOLLYPAW)
 

The recent attempt as territory theft has Silversun's pelt prickling with annoyance as she follows after Raccoonstripe. Such dishonor is only to be expected from a Clan full of cats who can't choose between their Clan or their Twolegs. They scorn the gift that StarClan has given them. Warily side-eyeing the SkyClan patrol, she rubs her cheek against the bark of a tree, wondering if they'll make the same mistake again.

The aptly named Silversmoke certainly seems hostile, his stare angled towards them as he marks the borders. But Silversun isn't here to cause trouble, she's here to perform her duties to her Clan. Hopefully the SkyClan patrol remembers theirs. No words are exchanged, for which the knightly tabby is grateful. Raccoonstripe issues orders, a molly on the other side of the border directs her apprentice's efforts, but other than that there is silence. The only interaction between the two patrols is a tom mutely dipping his head before seemingly thinking better of it.
[ HEAR ME NOW, YOU DEMIGODS -- ]
 
He was not the bright-eyed kit, fresh out the nursery that, apparently, had shared too grand a tale with ThunderClan on his very first excursion to their border. No... he could hold his tongue when needed; hold himself with poise. Still, this silence at the border is unfounded. Not a hello, not an utterance of those same tired gathering phrases— how's the prey running? One could slice through the thickness of it all with a claw, and he: always courageous, for he'd vowed upon his father's name that he would always be, takes such a task upon himself.

Candorpaw maintains an amicable lift of his tail. His voice booms— he had a kingr's voice, he'd like to think. " Good day, ThunderClan! " He is intrinsically drawn to the shrewd face of Raccoonstripe, someone who's stood at the forefront of ThunerClan for seasons now... With all those moons past him, would he remember a face like his? To be known, the thought excites him. " Or shall I say good evening? The sky is just breathtaking, is it not? " A boyish smile takes keenly to his maw.

OOC: bro failed the awareness check im sorry. mentor tag @TWITCHBOLT !
 
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Scarletpaw's muscles tighten as she listens to Raccoonstripe's command, the sharp edge in his voice making her anxious. But it also brings about a flare of determination - she’s got to make him proud. Her heart thrums in her chest, and though she tries to appear calm, her fur prickles with the unspoken tension hanging in the air. As she moves to mark the border, her split-colored eyes flit nervously toward the SkyClan patrol. She's still new to this, still figuring out how to navigate these fragile moments along scent lines, like one wrong step could shatter the uneasy peace between the clans.

She watches silently as Raccoonstripe deliberately rubs his scent on the foliage, his stiff posture betraying his frustration. For a moment, she wonders what it must feel like to carry the weight of a lead warrior's responsibility, to be so close to battle at any given moment and needing to always protect his clan. The idea sends a chill down her spine. Little does she know that is not the reason for his behavior.

The SkyClan cats work quietly on their side, tension crackling in the air between the two patrols. One of them, a young apprentice with a bright smile, speaks up, trying to break the silence with a friendly greeting. Scarletpaw glances at him, briefly considering what it must be like to be so bold, but quickly averts her gaze. This isn't the time to chat. Still, something about his confidence stirs a strange feeling of envy within her.

Without speaking, she rubs her side against the underbrush, following Raccoonstripe's lead. Her tail flicks anxiously as she keeps a watchful eye on the SkyClan cats, half-expecting one of them to cross the border like they had when her sister was here. Once she's finished, she steps back and moves closer to her mentor, not daring to speak unless spoken to. Her eyes narrow as she observes the SkyClan cats curiously, warily. She knows this is a delicate moment, and the last thing she wants is to be the one who makes a mistake.
 
The first cat to approach says nothing, and Raccoonstripe finds himself almost disappointed. His muscles remain stiff, twitching under a rippling tabby pelt. A heavy dark gaze moves to the lumbering silver warrior with the scarred eye. They share a look that simmers between the two of them, gasoline-soaked asphalt begging to be caught aflame, but neither makes a move. Even though a tepid little she-cat scoffs at the sight of her neighbors and instructs her apprentice to mark a tree, there is nothing breaking the peace today...

And then there's that boy — Raccoonstripe remembers them well. The tabby swivels his profile toward the red-maned apprentice, well-grown now but seemingly none-the-wiser. His tone is cheery, as though somehow he is immune to the palpable electricity lacing the air.

"I wish I could say it was a good day," he rumbles, and finally, that smile he loves to flaunt makes its way onto his face. It is too-happy. It is too-tight. "But I have to say, I'm disappointed in our neighbors' lack of friendliness. I suppose you all prefer fish to mouse, though, don't you?" He finally singles Silversmoke out again. "Soon we won't be able to tell your stenches apart, will we?"

It's not wise, he knows, to provoke SkyClan. His mother is no doubt frowning from her position in StarClan; if she could cuff his ear like the unruly boy he'd been in the marshes, she'd reach through the clouds herself.

But he has not forgotten Orangestar's unexplained friendliness with RiverClan. He has not forgotten, either, the wide-eyed boy who'd shared this information with ThunderClan.

"The sky is breathtaking. I think we'll enjoy it where the company is a little better." He swallows against an urge so fierce it threatens to tumble him over — an urge to rake his claws over Silversmoke's seeing eye, in truth.

"Scarletpaw, let's go. We'll come make new friends on another day."

  • ooc:
  • 74327127_amPwOaY4eGaGkj8.png
  • Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
    — "speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 46 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.


 

Each new word was pacifying, a barrier against the flood, but no amount of protection could temper the strength of bad blood. He stood on guard as Raccoonstripe addressed Candorpaw, swaying as if all his limbs had turned to feathers, fleetfooted in case the Lead Warrior took offence to the apprentice's optimism. He did, in many ways, yet odd eyes instead of jade ones met the tabby's ire. There was a smile that reminded him of a burning forest and tufted ears soon pinned to the back of his head at the first of the accusations.

"Can you blame us when our other neighbours are killers and code-breakers?" Venom bubbled in his words and unsheathed claws bullied the plucked grasses beneath them. SkyClan's honour felt as if it rested upon his shoulders, as if too many before him had let Raccoonstripe get away with his insults. Orangestar did not want this. Flamestar did not want this. But in his anger, the wishes of authority were intangible things.

His thoughts go to the former kittypets, dead beneath the claws of monsters, and disgust nearly caused him to coil over. Disgust that this could've been prevented, disgust that he could've helped create a similar monster in SkyClan if not for the Daylight Warriors that saved him. This outrage was repentance, but more than that, the tom realised it was the right thing. ThunderClan's problems did not end with death, and if they weren't reminded of that, then who knew when their ire would be turned to SkyClan's kittypets?

The Lead Warrior turned to leave and Silversmoke craned his neck upwards, unable to resist a bite (not onto flesh but onto thin air, with words that risked a fight. It was worth it, he thought. Worth telling Raccoonstripe off when he had gotten away with too much). "Skyclaw may be dead but I see one of his enablers before us now. Turn tail then, foxheart, and pray the Stars forgive you because I will not."


 
He'd been content with his little comments; he'd been content, in truth, to leave SkyClan where they stood, smoldering and silently seething, to take his little victory and walk away. But the big silver brute opens his mouth, and Raccoonstripe pauses. "Can you blame us when our other neighbors are killers and code-breakers?" The tabby's fur begins to spike along his shoulders; he half-turns, rage glinting in the onyx depths of his gaze. "We took our Clan back from killers and code-breakers. You'll find none in ThunderClan."

And perhaps he'd have left it there.

But Silversmoke is not done.

"Skyclaw may be dead, but I see one of his enablers before us now. Turn tail then, foxheart, and pray the stars forgive you, because I will not."

Raccoonstripe snaps. He spins until the pine needle-littered dust plumes around his paws. Behind him, he sees Silversmoke, mismatched eyes gleaming proudly at his insult — but beyond him, beyond him he sees Skyclaw, broken and hissing, "I idolized you!"

He moves before he can stop himself. Raccoonstripe leaps over the border and aims to crash into Silversmoke's chest and shoulders to unbalance him. If successful, he will aim to claw his foreclaws over the silver tabby's chest. "How dare you," he rages, spittle flying from his gnashing teeth: "I killed him myself!"

  • ooc: attacking @SILVERSMOKE
  • 74327127_amPwOaY4eGaGkj8.png
  • Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
    — "speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 46 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.


 

Scarletpaw's ears flatten at Raccoonstripe's words, her heart racing as tension sparks between him and the SkyClan warriors. She hesitates for a moment, not sure if she should say something - her tongue feels like lead in her mouth. Hostility is rising, and she's desperate not to make a wrong move. The last thing she wants is for her inexperience to bring shame to ThunderClan, especially when her mentor seems so on edge.

At his command, she moves to his side, her paws feeling heavier than usual. Her gaze flickers nervously toward the SkyClan patrol, her breath catching as Silversmoke's sharp response cuts through the silence. She almost flinches at the venom in his voice, the tension in the air growing even thicker. The mention of Skyclaw brings icy claws down her back, the memory of her hateful uncle brought to the forefront of her brain. And then her mentor attacks.

Scarletpaw keeps her head low, following Raccoonstripe's lead without a word. Every instinct tells her to stay quiet, to avoid eye contact. But instead her eyes dart toward Candorpaw, the SkyClan apprentice who had tried to break the silence earlier. For a moment, she wonders if it could have gone differently if someone had responded more kindly. But now, with claws unsheathed and tempers rising, that possibility is far out of reach.

She keeps her steps quick, tail low, as she moves to pounce on him, knowing it is her duty to give her clanmates backup.

// attacking Candorpaw!

 
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There had always been a safety with border patrols, a barrier both clans knew not to cross. Perhaps he should not have been surprised that, when a verbal boundary was crossed so would the scent one, all the same, a flurry of brown and blacks trampling towards him caused his spine to arch on instinct. He felt something pushing him before he could acknowledge what it was, a scarred spine colliding with the floor below, brown eyes speaking only of the thrill of the fight and the satisfaction of revenge. He kept his head tilted forwards to protect his neck, hissing as the air threatened to leave his lungs.

Silversmoke aimed to sink his claws into Raccoonstripe's shoulders, limbs locked like sticks to keep the other tom as far away as he could. "You think that makes you a hero?" Silversmoke spat Claws snag and tear through clumps of fur upon his chest, scarlet lines forming beneath torn strands. Anger was anesthesia.

Within a heartbeat, he imagined what Raccoonstripe had done for ThunderClan by killing the traitor, the hope he had brought. He imagined the food he had brought for his home by invading SkyClan, the lengths he had gone to to keep the oak forest safe. Within the next heartbeat, any understanding died. He was a threat to SkyClan, and all threats to SkyClan were to be dealt with regardless of what or who they were. His limbs relaxed somewhat to the other as he saw something whiz passed the corner of his eye, almost protective of the stalemate he found himself in. "Stand amidst the graves of all those your words have killed and see if your praises are sung. Their silence is your answer."

Hind limbs kicked out wildly at the Lead Warrior above them, hoping to slash and poke at whatever skin they could find.
 
He feels as if he catches the tortoiseshell's eye for a moment, in which he would grin, hoping the setting sun catches his smile in the same way it must've done to the likes of Blazestar... Either it does not, or he so lacked the inherent friendliness in his gaze he strives for. The gaze is averted as quickly as it comes. His smile drops by just a smidge.

Raccoonstripe returns it, though, and Candorpaw senses no oddity or ill-will between those fangs. The Lead's words do not match it, however. His face scrunches thoughtfully, and an acknowledging hm, peeps from his lips. Surprise glimmers in his eyes then. He'd thought himself quite friendly...But he supposes he alone could not meet the shortcomings of the rest of the patrol. Silversmoke in particular, perhaps, who glowered with the same intensity he always seemed to hold... Candorpaw believed it was nothing personal. He dares not speak for his senior, though.

The apprentice tilts his head. He had no real taste for fish. Whatever it is Raccoonstripe is communicating is lost on him. That is, at least, until his gaze flickers to Silversmoke. The implication is registered, then. Candorpaw acknowledges it with a blink. " Ah. " ...Hopefully his mentor did not begrudge him for this blunder of his, still. Scarletpaw, so his apprentice is named. Candorpaw would offer them a parting nod. Silversmoke would instead offer some parting words. Evidently, he has yet to learn the lesson that Candorpaw had.

He feels it now: the hostility. Quite suddenly, it would be impossible not to. A frown pinches his features. Weariness is pivoted toward the ashen warrior. Perhaps he should not have been surprised at the fight that breaks.

" Silversmoke! " comes the distressed call as Raccoonstripe heaves himself over the border. In a moment of weakness, Candorpaw does not immediately react. He is frozen in place for that split moment, and surely- surely he would be frowned upon for not defending his borders with the insistence that he should.

He is partially grateful that— Scarletpaw, her mentor had said— breaks the spell for him. She surges as her mentor does, and Candorpaw would certainly blame her for this none. For his retaliation, she should blame him no more than he.

His moment of stillness afforded the ThunderClanner an advantage. With some ounce of clumsiness, Candorpaw would rise to meet her, rearing on hind legs with claws slipping from their sheathes. Candorpaw's legs would be caught beneath her claws, but he hopes to catch her with blows of his own, aiming forepaws to slash at her cheeks.

OOC: Attacking Scarletpaw!
 

Stars, he felt like he could feel Howlingstar's silver gaze burning into his back - the late ThunderClan leader had fostered peace as long as she'd been alive, and without her, was this what ThunderClan was reduced to? Silversmoke's taunting didn't go unnoticed- and really, he should've seen it coming. Some awful accident waiting to happen... two famously opinionated warrior, clashing in a flurry of sparks.

They were still upset about the meeting with RiverClan, no doubt ... the oak-forest wanted SkyClan's loyalty all to themselves, did they? Twitchbolt soured at the thought of it. That alliances themselves caused issues, well, what was even the point?

Raccoonstripe surged - yes, he should have seen it coming, but he'd been a small ways away, only feeling the low, poisoned atmosphere curdling beneath his fur. "Candorpaw!" he called, too-late; his apprentice flew toward another apprentice, and Twitchbolt's wild eyes flicked wide to Raccoonstripe then, who rushed into Silversmoke, their claws locking.

The small, scruffy tom rushed to Silversmoke's side with speed and anger both blurring his limbs- "What are you doing?" he spat, aiming a quick strike across Raccoonstripe's face- get him on the fragild skin, sent him reeling backward. Oh, Blazestar would be spinning in his grave so fast he might be burrowing through the ground as they spoke. "Leave!"

\ ganging up on @RACCOONSTRIPE sorry king
penned by pin ✧
 
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Reactions: RACCOONSTRIPE
His attack is successful; Silversmoke goes down, skids into the dust, his spine pressed into the needles beneath. Raccoonstripe's eyes blaze with the satisfaction of a well-dealt blow; his blood, his flesh, is so thickened with adrenaline that he at first hardly feels the claws sinking through his shoulders. "You think that makes you a hero?"

Raccoonstripe snaps his teeth as close to Silversmoke's throat as he can, but he meets only empty air — the other warrior, as seasoned in battle as he, keeps him at floundering arms-length. "So, what, are you going to be the hero now?" Skyclaw's trembling, furious challenge echoes in his ears. Had he felt like a hero for even a moment, putting his kin down like a rabid dog? He still can't wash the taste of blood from his mouth, and no one seemed to understand —

Least of all Silversmoke, who sits upon his cedar-woven throne, who spits his venom without care. Raccoonstripe feels the warrior's hind legs begin to kick into his belly; claws snag and tear the flesh there, and he feels warmth begin to seep from the wounds, but he does not relent, does not let go. He aims a bite to Silversmoke's upper-left forearm instead, hoping it will make him release his hold. "And what do you know of heroism? Orangestar doesn't even deem you fit for her council anymore. Your leader doesn't trust you —"

His rage-fueled vitriol is cut short. Something small and wiry slips between Raccoonstripe and Silversmoke. Within moments, claws from a new enemy are flashing toward his face. He closes his eyes to protect them, but the flesh just below his right eye snags and blood begins to burst from the wound. He snarls, blinded by the attack, but stubbornly, he does not relent, does not flee.

"Fight me with all you have, then!" He aims a clumsy swipe for Twitchbolt's chest; it is powerful, but blood still blinds his vision. "I'll take you all down if I have to!"

Something whispers, Filthy kittypets, in his ear; he pretends like he does not hear it. Pretends it is nothing, that it does not come from somewhere inside of him.

  • ooc:
  • 74327127_amPwOaY4eGaGkj8.png
  • Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
    — "speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 46 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.


 

In an instant, the tense silence is ruined.

The over-bright tones of a SkyClan apprentice ring out in greeting. Silversun angles her ears back and winces. If it were up to her, she would leave him to listen to the sound of his own voice, but Raccoonstripe's will is unbecomingly weak for a member of Flamestar's council, and Silversmoke falls just as fast. Venomous words are tossed sharply back and forth across the border between the two posturing toms, and just as Silversun finds herself wishing she'd been put on a different patrol, chaos breaks loose.

Skyclaw's name is invoked, and Raccoonstripe flies across the border like a mossball kicked with too much force, flinging himself at Silversmoke with claws and teeth bared. Silversun exclaims wordlessly in shock and frustration as Scarletpaw hurls herself after him, tackling the loud apprentice from before. Aghast at the sight of ThunderClan warriors striking the first blows, she can only stare with her mouth open. "Control yourselves!" She finally shouts, but no one seems to hear her. If they do, do they even care?

A tuft of brown and white fur joins the tangle of silver and dark-striped limbs. Silversun's heart sinks as she recognizes SkyClan's deputy. Raccoonstripe is outnumbered two to one, though his ferocity matches that of a starving dog. She growls low in her throat, furious that her involvement has been forced upon her unwillingly, and charges into the fray - not to join him, but to stop him, to mutiny against her superior. Stars, she hopes Flamestar understands.

She draws level with the three warriors, then throws her weight sideways into Raccoonstripe, aiming to knock him aside and away from the SkyClan warriors. His accusations to Silversmoke still ringing in her ears, she whirls on him with a burning glare. "Look to the security of your own rank, Raccoonstripe," she bursts out, bristling with frustration at how irresponsible he's being. "Do you truly believe that this unseemly behavior will win you any favor with Flamestar?" She plants her paws down stubbornly, unwilling to continue watching her Clanmates humiliate themselves like this.

An equally frustrated glance is thrown over her shoulder at Silversmoke, then Twitchbolt. "Does SkyClan neglect to teach its warriors to conduct themselves with dignity? This could've been prevented if this one hadn't been so keen on starting a fight."

/ ooc permission given to stop raccoonstripe + ic opinions
[ HEAR ME NOW, YOU DEMIGODS -- ]
 
He's prepared to take a thousand blows; he's prepared to be nothing left but a bleeding, ragged pelt, but a silvery shape forces herself into his side. He's not expecting a third assault. As his paws are dislodged from Silversmoke's body, he stumbles, blood weeping from the wound on his face, and he snaps like a blinded hound in Silversun's direction. It's only after several heartbeats that he realizes the attack had come from a member of his own patrol. "Look to the security of your own rank," she hisses, and Raccoonstripe's teeth click together with anger.

"Worry about your own rank," he retorts; the breath has been knocked out of him, though, and the fury that had clouded his vision with wildfire has begun to cool. Raccoonstripe looks with searing frustration toward Silversmoke and Twitchbolt. Against all odds, he could have won, or at least he'd have died trying, and —

And then you'd be nothing but a nursery tale for your kits, you fool, some voice nips at his mind with sharpened little teeth. You'd be a cautionary tale about starting fights at the borders, and nothing more.

His emotions are like lightning coursing through him, running haywire, but he knows the battle is over. It has to be. Truly, he should thank Silversun for intercepting, but he does not have it in him to do so.

Her gift, he decides, will be that he does not punish her for her lack of adherence to authority. The mutinous glare he gives her softens into something borderline unreadable — fury at her subordination, gratitude, pain, frustration at being interrupted — but he gathers his wits about him regardless.

"ThunderClan, with me." The pain is becoming apparent now — the wound on his face seeps, and the pinpricks on his shoulders are beginning to follow suit. The clawmarks torn across his lower belly are sore and causing his gait to become stiff, though he will not let this show to the SkyClanners.

Before he disappears through the undergrowth, he gives first Twitchbolt and then Silversmoke a brief, measured look. Next time, it promises; promises what, none of them could know, in truth.

But he does not hurl another insult. He leads the patrol back where they'd come, straight to Flamestar and Roeflame to report.

  • ooc:
  • 74327127_amPwOaY4eGaGkj8.png
  • Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
    — "speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 46 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.


 

Twitchbolt felt the thump of Racconstripe's paw against his chest, felt brambling paws cut the flesh of his chest laid bare from fox-fangs (moons ago, now)- but there was little time to retaliate before he saw a silver shape, one of Raccoonstripe's Clanmates, rush into his side and run him off course, proceeding to talk him down. Still, Twitchbolt's face remained a ferocious snarl, pupils slitted in the green expanse of his eyes. Attention darted wildly between each Thunderclanner, each gawking look.

"To me, Candorpaw!" He instructed his apprentice, voice still as frayed as ever but containing a commanding quality that left little room for argument. He hoped, at least. He was prepared to let ThunderClan drag themselves home, then- until the ThunderClan warrior looked at him, frustrated, despairing. Twitchbolt's lips curled back in another snarl, face crumpling into ill-hidden fury.

He didn't yell, but his tone was certainly thorny as he told the ThunderClan warrior, "You would do well to- to remind yourself who c-crossed who's border." A flick of a crooked tail, then. "SkyClan. We're leaving. Anyone who engages with them further gets t-t-tick duty."
penned by pin ✧
 


A hiss pierced the drum-beating in his ear, it took a second too long to register it had been his own. An odd-eyed glance at a bleeding forelimb reminded him that he could still hurt. He loosened his grip and, in that moment of hesitation, saw a flash of brown and white above him - and Raccoonstripe's blood dripped down upon his face. Silversmoke snarled at the taste of copper on his tongue, a taste unearned in the moment, stolen by someone whom should not have gotten involved.

(Someone who he did not want to get involved, someone who would inevitably be hurt in this battle of egos, someone whom, once vengeance's rainclouds disappear, he may once again feel grateful towards)

The weight above him suddenly left and Silversmoke spun and rose to his feet. He leaped towards the pair before he truly saw the pair, his visage nearly blurred by how narrowed his pupils had become. Another leap caused the tom to stumble forward as if yanked back by a chain, his whiskers threatening to graze the invisible barrier between the clans. His lashing tail tried to propel him to pursue but against every primordial instinct, he did not break the code again.

His uninjured paw slammed into the ground in a tantrum. When Raccoonstripe turned away, Silversmoke did the same, breathing heavily, though he could not be certain if it was the combat that had tested his stamina, or the strength it took to have to leave combat. Wordlessly, he gazed downwards, peering past the blood-matted fur upon his chest and towards the wound upon his leg. For the final time, he found Raccoonstripe's glare and met it with his own. Twitchbolt asked for no further antagonising, but rudely, the large tom held eye contact with his enemy, offering only a shared promise between fighters: 'this isn't over'.

With that, he limped after Twitchbolt.
 
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Her heart pounds like a drum in her chest as Candorpaw rises to meet her, and for a split second, she hesitates. The chaos around her, the snarls and shouts of her mentor locked in battle, make her paws feel unsteady, but she forces herself to move. She tries to sink her claws into his legs, and she barely dodges his swipe, his claws grazing her cheek. The sharp sting sends a surge of adrenaline rushing through her and she pushes back, trying to keep her focus as the SkyClan apprentice's blows come faster. She hisses and lashes out again, aiming to hook her claws into his shoulder, though there's no malice in her strikes, only desperation to prove herself - to Raccoonstripe, to ThunderClan, to everyone watching.

But then it all comes to a stop, and she disengages, huffing to catch her breath. Narrowed eyes trail after the warriors as she herself finds her way back to her mentor’s heel, ears flattened and her tail lashing. Her cheek still stings from where that tom has grazed her, but fortunately it doesn’t seem too bad. Shouldn’t scar, at least. Dutifully, and in lasting silence, she grits her teeth and follows after her patrol, not even sparing a glance back at Candorpaw or the other SkyClanners.