wc rebels DYING STAR [patrol return]

[SCORCHSTREAK]

There is no way to make a retreat feel anything other than cowardly, and no matter what way Scorchstreak spins it, this is a personal failure on her part. Her fellow tunnelers did not do anything wrong, did not misstep; the blame for their attack lies squarely upon her own bloodied shoulders. She should have been keeping a better eye out, been more careful. Should have stayed closer to the horseplace. Even as the four of them run, fleeing back to the safety that lies in numbers, Scorchstreak cannot disentangle herself from the guilt that floods her mind. They all live, but only because they got lucky. Her mistakes could have cost any one of them their lives. She grits her teeth, golden gaze flickering to Pinkpaw. What if…

She shakes her head as a paw catches on a rock and she nearly goes tumbling. She rights herself, but only barely, and pain lances down the leg from her shoulder. "We’re nearly there," the calico pants. The sky has opened up since they turned to run, and snowflakes tumble down from the heavens with steadily increasing density. The cold of it seeps into her paws—into her bones. By the time they reach the barn, the wind has picked up, and the chill has turned biting. Her coarse coat ripples with the strong breeze, offering little defense from the cold wind when it is soaked through in patches with blood—she’s certain it has only stopped flowing because it has frozen to her pelt.

Scorchstreak stumbles into the barn at the back of the patrol, chest heaving. She has never felt so useless, so weak; she had allowed herself to be bested by a cat who was once her clanmate. "Someone bring Sunstride," she says as soon as they pass through the doors and into the barn. She holds no authority and her wounds shine with blood, but still she issues the demand to whatever cat they come across first. Find Sunstride. He needs to know. She glances to Rattleheart, and then to Mouseflight, surveying them for wounds. Her own injuries fade to the back of her mind, unimportant in the face of any injuries that Pinkpaw and the others have sustained. "And Wolfsong. We were attacked by some of Sootstar’s warriors."

// @PINKPAW @RATTLEHEART @Mouseflight this is set a few days before cottonfang & downypaw’s arrival!​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

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[Bluepool]

The smell of blood hits her like a badger. It comes on quickly, carried by the wind to where she sits just inside of the barn, running her tongue along her pale blue pelt. Immediately, her eyes go to the entrance where Scorchstreak's patrol appears, bloodied and staggering. She scrabbles to her paws as quickly as she can, makes her way over to that familiar tortoiseshell pelt now streaked with blood, golden eyes filled with worry. "Scorchstreak" she gasps out, concern evident in her voice, in the way she only looks at the tunneler for a too long moment before she assesses the rest of the patrol.

Scorchstreak wastes no time explaining what happened. Sootstars warriors had done this she says and she cannot help the snarl that finds a place on her features, in her voice. "Who in particular did this to you?" she wants the name of the cat who had dared sink claws and teeth into her friend, she wants to personally ensure they live to regret it.

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[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── Little seems to go to plan lately, and he supposes that is to be expected for a group of near-exiles who struggle against those they once fought and hunted beside. Even so, it would be a nice change of pace to welcome back clanmates free of blood-scent and conflict. It seems today seeks to uphold the pattern instead of deviate from it, and Wolfsong wastes no time closing the distance between himself and their returning clanmates, his sole eye scrutinizing them for their wounds and general well-being after exposure to the cold.

He is admittedly unsurprised by Scorchstreak's bloodied pelt. He cannot attest to the circumstances, of course, but she has worked herself thin and he has expected her to return with injury. Wolfsong had hoped it wouldn't be at the claws of Sootstar's hounds, but she confirms that to be the case.

"Come, sit. Unless the warriors are at your tails, an explanation can wait until I have stopped the bleeding," he tells her, as well as Pinkpaw, Mouseflight, and Rattleheart. Perhaps Bluepool will get a chance to avenge Scorchstreak's wounds in the immediate future.
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 41 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[PINKSHINE]

Scorchstreak... Scorchstreak's real hurt, but at least she's alive— of course she would be, because she's like the toughest cat ever. Pinkpaw just hopes she wasn't hurting too much. And... and Wolfsong could fix her up no problem, and everything would be good, and... Pinkpaw was gonna smack that mean cat hard next time she sees him! And they wouldn't see it comin' the same way Pinkpaw hadn't seen them comin'.... It's not fair. It's not fair at all. Pinkpaw isn't smiling when she walks into the barn. Her face is ugly and she just wants to go... wants to go... beat something up!

Pinkpaw blinks wide eyes up at Bluepool. Maybe if she and Scorchstreak coulda' fought together, like her and Featherpaw... " It was... It was, um... A mean ugly cat... " Pinkpaw can't remember their name, and it's so annoying. Hadn't they been living in the same camp a little bit ago? She shakes her head in frustration. " They were sayin' all sorts of mean stuff and, and... they all snuck up on us... It's not fair, " she sniffs.

Her gaze drags upward when she sees Wolfsong. " Is Scorchstreak okay? " she asks. " I'm okay... I ran away... " she says with a frown. All she got was a hurting paw because she stepped weird on a rock. She didn't wanna have any icky scars, but maybe, maybe she should've stayed to fight...

staring at the mirror gotta smile, smile 🌸🌷🦄🦩 don't be late, we got plans!

• 

• NOTE: SHE IS A FEVER COAT BABY!!
  

  

• ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
  —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  —— CURRENTLY 5 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH
  
  A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with suburst eyes ringed blue around her pupils (central heterochromia). While you can clearly see her flame markings on her face, the rest of her body is currently covered by a grey fever - coating. Though the whites of her are still very much visible. Pinkpaw bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
  

  HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pinkpaw is a very irrational and childish character!​

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[RATTLEHEART]

There's blood decorating his teeth and his claws once again, thankfully not his own but still unpleasant due to the sharp, metallic taste that it brought with it. He couldn't help but cringe with each step, tiny shocks of pain accompanying the sting of once again being involved in battle. Something he used to hate - still hated, honestly - yet found himself helplessly engaged in far more often as of late. At least the brief scuffle hadn't reopened the nearly healed wound running along his side, merely pulling at the scarred flesh and making it ache rather than making it spill blood out onto the snow. He doubted Wolfsong would've been glad to have to cocoon him in cobwebs once again - not that he would've enjoyed it much either.

His pale gaze was laser focused on the rest of the patrol as he walked alongside them all, staying particularly close to his sister's side in case she needed support. The scent of her blood on the air was enough to make his jaw clench, claws curling into the freshly fallen snow until he forced himself to relax. The tunneler was only able to do so fully when the barn came into view on the horizon, a relieved breath leaving him as he sped up in an effort to reach their temporary home. Bluepool was the first to greet them, and Rattleheart couldn't help but growl in response to her question. "Hollowcreek. The absolute coward leaped at her while we were still deciding on which tunnel to check out. I just wish I could've ripped him limb from limb myself." And he certainly might have tried, if not for the fact that he wasn't willing to risk the lives of his clanmates in pursuit of revenge. A trait that thankfully separated him - and most of the others at the barn - from Sootstar and her loyalists.

It thankfully wasn't long until Wolfsong arrived, and Rattleheart was quick to shake his head in an effort to ease any unnecessary worries. "They didn't seem to be on our tails, thankfully. Probably knew they couldn't possibly put up a fight against all of us..." Pinkpaw was the next to step forward from their little patrol, and his gaze immediately softened when he heard her words. She was still so small and so young, and the thought of her feeling any guilt over "running away" made his chest ache. He stepped near to her, voice soft as he touched his nose lightly to the apprentice's head. "And that was good of you to do, Pinkpaw. You were following Scorchstreak's orders, and you kept Wolfsong from needing to deal with even more injuries." She would surely be a brave warrior someday in the future, but Rattleheart found himself desperately hoping she kept away from the battlefield in the meantime.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

The first cat to greet them is Bluepool, and the calico lets out a sigh of relief when the other steps toward her. Bluepool looks concerned at first, but after a moment it turns to a snarl as the tabby asks who had attacked her. Scorchstreak feels a bit of a tug in her chest at the thought of the other she-cat feeling protective—but there will be time to dwell on such a reaction later, when her wounds have been safely patched up. She blinks slowly, paws shifting a bit closer to her friend. "Bluepool… I’m fine," she insists, even if it isn’t true at all. She cannot soak up all the attention, not when the rest of her patrol may still have injuries to take care of.

From her side, Pinkpaw speaks up, calling Hollowcreek mean and ugly. She’s correct, of course—that tom has a face that only a mother could love. He isn’t handsome, nor is he pretty. Not like…

She clears her throat. She must have taken a harsher blow to the head than she’d previously thought. Thankfully, Wolfsong arrives shortly after, and his presence has the same effect as the sun’s rays on a hot summer day. Comfort washes over her, and her muscles manage to relax after a moment. "Ugly is right," she comments with a tired yet amused chuckle. Rattleheart answers Wolfsong’s question for her, though, and the amber-striped tom invites her to explain after the patrol is taken care of. She settles wherever the tom tells her to without question, finding herself lacking the energy to argue. It seems she’s the most injured of the patrol—thank the stars. She could never forgive herself if her fellow tunnelers were badly injured because Scorchstreak couldn’t protect them.

Her apprentice speaks once again, and Scorchstreak shakes her head. "Don’t blame yourself, Pinkpaw." Rattleheart has already told the younger she-cat the same thing, but Scorchstreak feels the need to add to the reassurances. She aims to brush her tail across Pinkpaw’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, a careful smile crossing her muzzle. "You did what I told you to. I’m glad that you aren’t hurt." Her eyes dart to Rattleheart, one final assessment for grievous wounds.

She tilts her head back to glare at Wolfsong as she adds onto her brother’s explanation. Her ire is not aimed at him—it could never be, not when he’s only ever proven himself to be a trustworthy ally and healer. "I doubt they’ve followed us here. If they felt the need to ambush us, they must know they can’t face us fairly. They probably went straight back to grovel at Sootstar’s paws." Sharp bitterness seeps into her voice, though her fiery gaze shifts to Bluepool for a moment. They both have kin within Sootstar’s loyalists, but Rumblerain’s circumstances are much different situation from those of Sootstar herself.​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

​

 

[Bluepool]

She has to resist the urge to growl at Wolfsong, to tell him to go away and that she would handle it. But her paws are not made for healing in the way that his were, her paws were made for rending wounds into flesh, for violence and battles and protecting what was hers. But Scorchstreak is not hers and she is no medicine cat so she steps aside, lets him tend to bloody tortoiseshell fur though she does not leave. She hovers over him, maybe a little too close but she is too concerned to just leave the healer to his own devices.

Pinkpaw was there too, but the apprentice declares she runs. "That's okay kiddo, it can be brave to run when you know you are outmatched" Better to live to fight another day than die fighting a battle you know you cannot win. Pinkpaw was plenty young, she would have many more opportunities to fight in the future.

"Hollowcreek" she echoes, the name a growl in her throat. Her claws unsheathe and dig into the wood underneath her paws, her lips curling back as she imagines all the things she would do if she ever caught him unawares. She would match every wound he had inflicted on Scorchstreak. "You are all much stronger warriors than them, they are cowards and fox-hearts" she asserts, her chin raised. Of course they had not followed, without her sister there to goad them on they would always falter.

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── It chafes, at times, to be comforting and coaxing to those who are not Sunstride or his children, though not for any desire to be cruel to Pinkpaw. The time to forgive his brash-headedness has passed him by; he is not a warrior to many of them, especially those born after Vulturemask's death, despite Hummingbirdheart's bloody demise at his claws. He must be a balm. It would not do for a medicine cat to tend wounds while leaving the injured despondent of spirit, so after Rattleheart and Scorchstreak have finished offering their own comfort, he smiles slightly at the apprentice. "She will be all right," he says, "and your chance for battle will come again." Whether or not she wants it to.

"No doubt with embellished tales of victory," he agrees with Scorchstreak, before he begins to clean her wounds with moss and cobwebs. It occupies his mouth for a time, and he assumes that the dark expression on her face is not intended for him, but Hollowcreek— or perhaps any of Sootstar's loyal warriors, or the leader herself. His own irritated flick of an ear, however, is most definitely for Bluepool, and his sole eye narrows slightly.

He removes the wad of webbing from Scorchstreak's skin to chew one of his precious few marigold plants into a paste. As he smears it with his paw, he can no longer ignore Bluepool's proximity. "A bit of space, if you would, Bluepool," Wolfsong directs evenly, despite his agitation. He can understand her concern— he just does not want it to hamper his work.
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 41 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ Bluepool’s response may as well be a sealing of Hollowcreek’s fate. The thought of the moor runner taking revenge for her would normally strike Scorchstreak as wrong—and she does feel a mild flare of defensiveness rising, because she can fight her own battles—but it feels correct, now. Scorchstreak would kill for Bluepool. For Sunstride, for Rattleheart, for Pinkpaw, and even for Wolfsong and Mouseflight. It is only right that the lead warrior also feels a bit protective over her. Either way, by her own claws or Bluepool’s, she hopes that rotten-hearted tom bleeds.

When the medicine cat begins slathering one of his pulpy concoction onto her wounds, the calico cannot help but to flinch. She grits her teeth at the brush, however gentle, against torn skin; she glances across the others on the patrol, looking closely for any wounds. It seems that she’s the only one injured enough to warrant the use of one of Wolfsong’s herbs, and a bolt of dismay flashes through her. She shouldn’t need to be taken care of, to be coddled. It’s only pain, and not the worst she’s ever felt.

Still, when the healer attempts to shoo Bluepool away, the calico protests with a shake of her head. She can’t leave. Sure, she’s hovering, but Wolfsong has worked under worse conditions, hasn’t he? Don’t make her leave. Don’t make any of them leave yet. "No, Wolfsong—let her stay. I’m fine, anyway. You shouldn’t waste too many herbs on me." She dips her head respectfully to him, though, meeting his single eye with a golden gaze. "Thank you. I’m sure I’ll heal up just fine." ​

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