pafp DRAWN TO THE BLOOD | dog & stranger

[SCORCHSTORM]

More patrols. It was the theme of the week, war heavy in all of their minds. DuskClan had proven themselves a true threat, and ShadowClan (cowardly though they are) seems to loom on the horizon, tall black silhouettes against the dusk-pink sky. Today, Scorchstorm finds herself at the border near the horseplace, flame-burnished frame alight with anxious aggression.

The council had suggested increasing patrols to the horseplace, asking the barn cats if they'd seen DuskClanners lingering around its edges. Perhaps it is stupid of Scorchstorm to be here alone. She would benefit from a patrol, no doubt, but... her sense of duty in this moment is only an excuse. Really, she seeks her brother. She'd lost one littermate already, and though Luckypaw was not lost to her as Rumblerain is, losing touch with him now feels like some impending doom. If she doesn't speak with him, she'll lose him forever. She doesn't pause to consider that he is probably much happier being a mouser than meddling in warrior business any longer. She just... she just needs to see him, and then she'll be okay. Everything will be okay.

Fiery shoulders bristle as she approaches the edge of the horseplace. Huge white sheep mill about their grazing yard; other barn creatures bray and haw from the towering red structure. It smells so much different over here. Wheaty and earthy, unlike the cool heather-tinged winds that she is more familiar with. In the dim dusk light, Scorchstorm imagines Luckypaw scampering about the place, plump on mice and unaware of the great waves of grief that have rolled over WindClan. Does he know about Rumblerain, she wonders? Maybe she would be the one to break the bad news.

Imagination is a thing that Scorchstorm gets lost in. One scent rises above her thoughts and snaps her to attention like smelling salts. Suddenly, a crack of thunder sounds, but... no, it's something else. BARK!

Fear roots her white-dipped paws to the earth. The flame-streaked warrior whips her head around her shoulders and is met with a familiar, terrifying sight: white teeth and pink tongue. A dog bears down on her and Scorchstorm scrambles to keep herself out of its range, but it is nearly on top of her. Idiot! she chides herself. She should have brought a patrol; shouldn't have been so foolish as to lurk alone when danger was attracted to WindClan like flies to nectar. It is all she can do to evade the beast's gnashing teeth, but she won't be able to do it forever.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌 ✧

• ooc. please wait for ambersky!
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 14 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

• 

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[ambersky]

☀​ IDEALISM SITS IN PRISON ☀​

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o'dair || twenty-one moons || cis male || he/him || former show-cat​

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O'dair can't ever remember having paws this sore. Granted, he can't exactly remember the last time he walked his far, either. Running away from home leaves plenty of room for firsts, and to be honest, he's getting pretty tired of them. He misses having a roof over his head to protect him from summer storms, and a soft bed to rest his aching body in. He's not built for the life of a wild cat. Not really. But as far as O'dair is concerned, it's the lesser of two evils. He's not really sure when the spotlight of his success started to become too bright to bear. Maybe it was when he realized his only friendships were born through a haze of others seeking power and fame. Or, maybe it was when he was separated from a mate he never really loved—twice. He'll never know the faces of his children, just like he can't remember the faces of his mother and siblings.

Being a house cat was a gentle life, sure. He never knew a day when he went hungry, or a time when he wasn't being showered in affection from his humans. But... he also never knew a life without competition. From the day he was born, O'dair had to be perfect. Flawless. He had to shove down every instinct he had to let humans poke and prod at him, pushing their clumsy paws into his mouth to inspect his teeth. He had to live with the knowledge that by finding his success, he was also losing the companionship of the other cats in his home he surpassed on his way to the top. He misses warm smiles and gentle touch. He misses them even more now that he's lost, wandering with no real destination in mind.

There's an odd sound in the distance. O'dair lifts his head, his brow furrowed. It's a familiar sound, coming from somewhere on the other side of the farm he's passing through. His head cocks, ears pricking up. Is it... barking? He knows his way around dogs—he's used to them by now, after having lived with one all his life. But the sort of bark he's hearing isn't the kind sort of bark, like the kind he'd always hear when his humans arrived home. No, this is the sort of bark that accompanies a hunt.

O'dair catches a glimpse of a streak of tortoiseshell fur across rolling green hills. It's a cat, being tailed by one of those slobbering, uncivilized sort of mutts. He curses under his breath and sets a quick pace toward the scene—as fast as his already-sore legs can carry him. The stranger's damn near getting close to having her tail bitten off by the time he gets close enough to see the fear in her eyes. O'dair's never been much of a hero. Maybe he used to be braver, but over time he learned to do whatever it took to save his own skin.

He's not sure why he abandons that selfishness now.

"Over here!" he yowls, catching the snarling dog's attention. He doesn't have any real plan other than keeping this poor soul from getting eaten alive. "Follow me, you big, ugly mutt!" He turns tail and runs as those snapping jaws yank a few strands of fur from the very tip of his tail. O'dair yelps, hurtling uncontrollably down the hill, paws stumbling clumsy as he leads the dog toward the farm. If he could just get under the fence—

Sharp teeth close around his hind leg. O'dair howls as he's hauled up into the air, dangling from the canine's jaws. Something inside pops and shifts nauseatingly, and he struggles and kicks as he tries to lash his claws across whatever part of the dog he can reach. It desn't bite any harder, instead standing with him in its mouth, tail wagging. It looks more excited than murderous, as though it doesn't quite know what to do now that it's actually managed to catch its prey.

— chivalry fell on its sword ☀

• Actions, "Speech," & 'Thoughts/Quotes'
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a well-groomed, flirtatious chocolate torbie & cinnamon tabby chimera with high-white.
  
  — former show-cat, previously known as "o'dair"
  — minor non-violent powerplay allowed, healing powerplay allowed, & minor injury powerplay allowed
  — single, open to slow-burn relationships & polyamory
  — penned by @keplerscope (keplerscope on discord)

 

[rivewhisper]

Dogs were not something that Rivewhisper had the honor of running into, or even defeating. Most of her blood-stained life came from the claws of Sootstar loyalists. Blood spilled from her own stomach, from her father's latest death. She had been softly lost, relying on Redheart when she could, but she didn't want to crowd. Her wandering thoughts caused her vision to go slightly unfocused as she tread the moorlands with a patrol, unsure of who was even leading.

A yowl, from the direction of the barn, caused her head to whip around. Over here! She shared a glance towards those on patrol before she was shooting off, agile body stretched as she drummed against familiar heather and moss, ears perked forward and eyes narrowed against the wind. She grew close enough to see Scorchstorm, a gasp leaving her at the sight of the dog, and.. a stranger, who was leaping at the tail of the dog. If Rivewhisper hadn't been trained by her father, she could've staggered and let the others run ahead.

She wasn't keen on watching someone, anyone, die to a dog, especially the someone that just tried to give their life to save her clanmate. Her paw falls turned silent as she glided closer, eyes flicking towards Scorchstorm briefly to ensure her safety before she leapt at the dog, teeth aiming to fix into it's throat and clamp down. Her body knocked against that of the fellow who dangled from the jaws of literal death, but she didn't seem to notice, trying to ensure she either wounded the dog enough to kill, or chase away.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── AND ITS BEEN SO LONG THAT IM ⋅❁⋅ FORGETTING WHAT IT FEELS LIKE ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• RIVEWHISPER she/her, moor runner of windclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ LH broken braided chocolate tabby with high white and piercing blue eyes. scars stretch over her left eye and across her stomach. graceful, sleek, average height. built for running and stamina
  ⭃ mentored by snakehiss / sunstar / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ small romantic interest in redheart / / sibling to featherspine ; sunlitwing ; bearflight ; singedpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[dimmingsun]

@Celandinepaw

☀

The Horseplace looms on the horizon — today's destination is not it, not quite yet, but Sunstar drawing attention to it has made it a centerpiece in Dimmingsun's mind. Perhaps some of Sootstar's loyalists still stubbornly reside there, withdrawn into the shadows of the barns... or they moved past it, and the mousers and loners can point WindClan into the right direction. Whatever their response might be, WindClan would have an answer; either because of the knowledge or the lack of it.

Although not following up on Sunstar's orders right away might be against Dimmingsun's newfound rank, he hasn't gathered the inner strength to do so. Is this really going to be their lives from now on? Battle after battle, never a quiet moment as they prepare for the next blow? Hardships always filled out Clan life the way raindrops find every nook and cranny to seep into, but it used to feel different, stakes maybe not quite so high.

Dimmingsun leads Celandinepaw; the pair has slotted in just fine with another nearby patrol, and he is hell-bent on not stopping the intensity of their training when his apprentice is so close to reaching warriorhood. He is adamant further still about not letting his injury affect her either; he cannot falter and stumble around when he's supposed to be teaching her and helping her perfect her skills.

When the wind changes course, they're quickly alerted to the reek of dog.

Is it an omen of some sort? Sunstar has lost a life and a limb to one, rows of teeth and a crazed mind lashing out and catching in the too-fragile skin of cat like sandpaper. If they're lucky, it's just a Twoleg's pet led by snakeskin... but WindClan does not have much of a positive track record when it comes to luck. Much like the breeze, Dimmingsun wants to alter their path- but when he smells Scorchstorm first and sees her second, he all but bolts towards danger, running on nothing but pure adrenaline. They cannot lose her — they cannot bear to lose anyone, but if he can help it, he won't stay idle while another of Scorchstreak's meets demise.

"Scorchstorm!"

Over here!

The appearance of a stranger only serves to infuriate Dimmingsun further- right up until he realizes the pretty cat is only trying to aid them. A mind no doubt familiar with canine craze proves to be sharper, and with Scorchstorm finally safe, he would be perfectly content making a beeline straight for camp.

Rivewhisper has other ideas. "No," Dimmingsun breathes, meant for nobody but himself, as selflessness urges her to free this stranger from the same snapping jaws.

She leaves him with no choice. The skin upon his muzzle wrinkle as Dimmingsun snarls, already huge form only appearing larger with his fur standing on end. He almost tells Celandinepaw to back off, but one corner of his mind tells him to let go — to allow her to face danger headfirst instead of sending her away. Surely the dog knows it is vastly outnumbered... and its chances of victory are slim. Dimmingsun's fangs glint in the sunlight as he joins Rivewhisper, clamping down on the other side of that massive throat, effectively locking the stranger between the two of them.
​

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

Was everything of the wild a distortion of her former reality? Had everything grown fangs, teeth, a horribly beating heart of bloodshed?

Celandinepaw had seen fire before, a hearth glowing as it crackled in incomprehensible lullaby, rolling heat upon slowly rising flank. The Horseplace cat remembered it as the giver of warmth, savior of the wintry nights. Upon the moors, it descended like a phantasm skewed into its own appetite for destruction, turning the springtide seams into nothing but greyish hue. It seemed nothing like the controlled flames of the Twolegs' creation, instead as if it had escaped from brick-laden prison and set off upon a stampede of vile ire. She did not know what the moor dwellers had done to deserve its wrath, but perhaps it did not seek an answer for its pain - simply, it only wished to release itself upon them. Celandinepaw had also seen dogs before, friendly beasts of lolling tongues and playful steps, always tailing upon the strides of her workfolk. She remembered them as an affable face, though quite overbearing at that, never the kind a self-respecting barncat would hang about. Upon the patrol, it closed upon the cats like a shadow looming and twisting into slavering expression, with nary a hint of humanity in tar-shot eyes. Was this an incarnation from the Horseplace that she had grown up in, or had it only been of the wild's doing? She hadn't the time to wonder.

Her mentor spared little time in engaging the mongrel, leaving Celandinepaw's feet frozen upon their roots on the ground, like the illusion of her safety had simply buckled in its grip and had bowed to the sheer terror that coursed through. Scorchstorm had already fled, but a feline she did not recognize had not been so lucky. Bleeding heart could hardly watch any being, whether unknown or known to her, cry out in anguish as a predator caught it in its grasp. What... What do I do? It's so large! I can't - I can't do anything to that! Thoughts buzzed and blitzed through her mind, phantoms of doubt deforming whatever rationalist germinated within the former barncat, keeping her within that position of helpless, hapless fear. Breathing grew ragged, as though she fought to keep the air coursing through a feeble, golden-hued body. All she could do was watch... right? No! "L-Let go of them!" She shouted in some mockery of a battle-cry, clamping down on the flailing heel of the hound's rightmost hind limb, aiming to at least surprise it enough to release its jaws from O'dair's body. It was a stupidly bold move on Celandinepaw's part, but great stories were hardly told of the cowards and the beggars.

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊

• OOC:
  
• ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
  
• 

  —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 10 Moons
  —— Moor Runner Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Dimmingsun
  —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Breath comes hot, desperate, heaving into overwrought lungs. The dog barks at her, its flaxen coat gleaming fiery in the scarlet sun. She feels herself slipping closer into its grasp — one misplaced paw would surely see her in its jaws, and then what? Would it be over? Her nerves are alight with adrenaline; the chemical pushes through her veins so recklessly that there is no room for fear. Still, she can see the dog's teeth from so many moons ago now, gliding through the bridge of her nose. It had been a miracle, then, to outrun the thing. Would StarClan grant her another?

Her prayer is answered in the form of a yowl. The retriever at her heels whips its head towards O'dair and gives chase, switching its course in the span of a single heartbeat. Scorchstorm does not stop running — not until she realizes the pounding of meaty paws has faded from behind her, reduced to a distant, steady thrum. The barn is behind her. The stranger is behind her. Her clanmates surge towards her in a steady tide: Rivewhisper, Dimmingsun, Celandinepaw. They are past her in a breath.

Scorchstorm whips herself around to face an ugly sight: the loner, or mouser, or whoever he was dangled from the golden dog's jowls, and the joint at his hip looks all wrong, but... there's no time to think about it. Rivewhisper charges in — stupidly, she thinks, and yet she rushes to join the oak-furred warrior — and Dimmingsun latches onto the hound's throat. The beast whimpers in pain and surprise. Its high-held tail dips between its hind legs, and then one of said legs was enclosed in another set of young jaws, and it yelped again. Finally, its glinting teeth released its prize. O'dair, unless his reflexes were still so perfect, would fall to the ground with a thump.

The flame-streaked tortoiseshell does not join her fearless clanmates in their defense. Bluefrost had called her fearless, once, but she had been wrong. The sight of the dog stuck fear through her heart like a blade. She truly cannot believe she had been so lucky twice — still cannot believe it, because as of right now, the dog is still not gone. But not for much longer. The retriever rears on its hind legs and performs a final stomp, hoping to shake the cats that hang from it, before turning tail and departing for the barn.

When the dog becomes little more than a golden speck in the distance, Scorchstorm finally moves forward, dual-toned eyes blown wide, ribcage still contracting and expanding in reckless rhythm. The stranger lay in a heap on the ground. Her clanmates seem more or less unharmed; at the very least, they are not so injured as Sunstar had been. Thank StarClan. Really, she has half a mind to collect them and return to camp, but....

Scorchstorm offers them all a grateful look, but saves her words for O'dair. "You," she addresses, though distantly she wonders if he is in any shape for conversation. "What is your name?" Her sharp-cut face has grown severe with focused attention. Why had he been here? Why had he decided to help her? She doesn't know — she can get those answers later. The broad-shouldered molly hovers close to Dimmingsun's side, should she need him for support (her own head was spinning a bit from the fit of excitement this whole thing had given them).

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌 ✧

• ooc.
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 14 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

• 

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