private EVERYTHING BLACK [†] POST ROCKSLIDE [ GROUP 5 ]

[SHARPSHADOW]

† The dip in the wall Sharppaw had spotted turns out to be much more – A cave, maybe, something that a whole bunch of them can squeeze into, rather than just herself and (maybe) Chalk. Thank the stars, because she is far from the only one there. The two SkyClanner’s she had ran with are not very far behind. She nearly yelps in surprise, seeing a RiverClanner that has apparently been on her tail all this time. Collecting herself, Sharppaw remains hunched by the tunnels entrance – the rockfall like a fight she could not bring herself to look away from. The apprentice winces as a cat is nearly crushed once or twice. A few times – not so nearly; rocks tumble and cut against skin.

A brief moment of relief comes, as the pale pelt of Chalk streams in. She was already relieved, considering her own life is safe, but less deaths was always… preferable.

Two more cats stream in – practically copies of each other; lithe – WindClan? He isn’t left with a lot of time to ponder this. The outline of pelts dwindle and Rockslides are crashing closer and closer to them. One piles by the tunnel’s entrance, and then another, and another. " No— " They were being trapped in here! He watches them fall, bristling, as if there was anything he could do but watch as the sunlight is progressively snuffed out; the entrance plugged up. Rock after rock falls until, eventually, they can no longer see the light of day. She flinches as one of the last dislodges another bolder, causing it to shift toward her. The only thing it does is crush her already dead tail though. The thunder, at last, subsides.

" Foxdung! " he hisses. His paws shoot out, and he contemplates trying to dislodge them himself, but he would surely only crush himself in the process, or otherwise reap no reward. With a drawn our groan of defeat, he slumps to the ground. No Smogmaw, no Magpiepaw. Just… A bunch of strangers. This sucks. " Of course the worst thing that could've happened... "

OOC † IN THE MIRROR 09.17.2023

• OOC: assemble,,, @FIGFEATHER @Cherrypaw @CHALK @Mosspaw @SCORCHSTREAK @SCORCHPAW
•  

• SHARPPAW: Mentored by Smogmaw
  —— he / she , no pref , icked by they prns ; fine with gendered terms ( tom, molly, etc... )
  —— currently 15 moons old. warrior ceremony delayed due to lackluster progress.
  
  a dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between her chimera fur. Burdened with a broken tail. Though recently, she has realized it still has some use, she has wholey believed in its utter uselessness for so long that it cannot without great effort. anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharppaw is a creature living in constant fear. Most thoughts are irrational, but consistent in that they are borne from pessimism and generalized anxieties.
  — Obsessed with the perceived 'game' within ShadowClan, the rules of which she is unaware of. Striving to be someone more likeable due to this. Prone to occassional bouts of impulsive behavior, as it has proved to benefit him, so far.

​

 

[Mosspool]

Scrambling along behind Sharppaw, Mosspaw dove into the cave as it came into her view, clambering as far in as she dared in order to get away from the terrible cacophony outside. Her ears were folded back against her head and her eyes wide as she stared at the boulder's piling at the caves entrance. The deafening force of each of them crashing to the ground made her flinch each and every time. The sound instilled a terror and unease in her unlike anything she had ever known.

Only when it was over did she think, after a few owl eyed blinks, to survey her surroundings. None of the faces around her were familiar. Not a single of her clanmates was with her, and her stomached dropped at the realization. For a moment she thought she might be sick. They had made it to safety, she told herself forcefully. She had to believe that or she wouldn't be able to go on. Though she had not seen where a one of them had gone, she had to trust that the stars had kept them safe.

Tentatively, she took a step toward the entrance. Examining it revealed what she already knew, it was well and truly blocked. As Sharppaw hissed and groaned, she simply stared in silence at the wall of rock before her.

She swallowed and found her mouth was dry and tasted mildly of dirt.

"Did anyone see if the other Riverclanners made it to safety?" Mosspaw asked, her own voice sounding hollow in her ears. She blinked. This couldn't be happening.​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

Rocks settle behind them, blocking off their exit and plunging them into darkness, and Scorchstreak is quick to whirl around, seeking out the forms of the other cats who have gotten to safety alongside them. Golden eyes flick across the other bodies, passing over them without really seeing them, until her gaze rests upon a familiar ember-patched pelt. "Oh, Scorchpaw," she murmurs, stepping closer to the apprentice. "You’re alright..." Her tail curls toward her daughter, and she aims to lick over Scorchpaw’s forehead with a rumbling purr of relief.

The ShadowClan warrior seems concerned, as do the rest of the cats in the darkness. The RiverClanner, though, asks about her clan, and Scorchstreak sucks in a harsh breath. All of their clans could be dead, crushed beneath the unforgiving weight of a rockslide. They could be… the only survivors. How will they finish out this journey and find the lungwort, if it is only them? "I couldn’t see much of anyone. I was a bit busy trying not to die," she states simply. For all that she cares, each and every last one of the RiverClanners could be dead. "All we can do is hope that they made it to safety, as we did. And try to fine our way out of here."​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Figfeather watches the rocks tumble, blocking their entrance in complete horror. Had they just- had they made the wrong decision? Had they just sealed their fate in this dark cave? Figfeather could not see, she feels the warmth of other cats around her from all five clans. Cherrypaw was with her... she had thought that by grabbing the calico apprentice she had been saving her but- had Figfeather? Had she just killed her too? She looks around trying to take in her surroundings to no avail, so her dismay the familiar scent of Chalk lingers in the air. Not you too... The authorative voice of Scorchstreak can be heard, 'All we can do is hope that they made it to safety, as we did. And try to find our way out of here.' She screws up her nose, "'As we did'?! We're trapped in some... cave! How are we suppose to find a way out? I can't even see, for StarClan's sake!" Figfeather exclaims in a panic, though few of them would notice her fur bristles wildly. Even in her frightened state she finds herself looking for Cherrypaw. The warrior can only imagine how frightened she must be, "Cherrypaw- are you hurt?"

♡ INFO BATTLE

• @Cherrypaw
• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[CHALK]

⭒✧ The final rock to shudder against the cave maw heralded a crushing blackness that forced Chalk to round his eyes in an attempt to see. Before it’s fall, he managed to catalogue six other shapes in the rocky hollow, a few of his clanmates among them. Relief unlike any he’d felt before itched his pelt. The dark was so evenly spread, with no light source to carve out the environment, he was forced to feel around with his whiskers. Unhelpful.

An echoed voice gave direction, one he assumed belonged to the riverclan apprentice of their ranks. In mirror of the older Windclanner, Chalk murmured, "I didn’t see but -" He took in a hasty breath, only to cough it out again as the back of his head met stone. Very unhelpful. " - Everyone was moving quickly and other cats were calling to follow them. They likely found other tunnels." Likely wasn’t certain, and the caverns being safe or having exits was an entirely separate set of variables. Oppressive thoughts of broken bones, stale air and earthen resting places weighed his maw shut.

Figfeather’s panicked tone pulled the daylight warrior forward, the motion disturbing his dropped shoulder. Pain? Chalk faltered, assessing the strain and burn of his skin. Another step ripped up the sensation with vigour. Pain. He’d never been hurt like this- only felt the clinical sting of the Shelter’s claw before it smoked him to sleep. Calculated resolutions and counter thoughts were being buried by alarm and the tom was unable to answer his clanmate’s cries. He’s not dead. He can walk, albeit slowly. He’s not dead.

Suddenly preoccupied with his own mortality, a realisation struck him. A fawn cheek tipped to where he thought Sharppaw stood, marsh scent still threading through her fur. "I think I’d be dead." In an unusual lapse, Chalk had to force himself to clarify, "If you hadn’t called for me, I’d be dead. So, thank you." ​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

It's funny that once upon a time she'd wanted to be a tunneler. Scorchpaw distinctly remembers the acrid taste of jealousy on her tongue when she'd watched Luckypaw get apprenticed to Cygnetstare; how she'd yearned to be apprenticed to her mother so they could dig beneath WindClan's moors together; how she'd still tried to weasel her way into the maws of the tunnels afterwards, only to scuff her too-wide shoulders and be forced to retreat. She'd come to enjoy the moors, but now she realizes a piece of her has always still wondered what it's like to be underground the way her mother and brother are. She isn't wondering anymore.

The darkness is oppressive. It squeezes breath out of her lungs; even her ember-laden fur cannot brighten this void of light, this black hole. And Luckypaw– where is Luckypaw? He's dead, he's dead he's dead he'sdeadhe'sdeadhediedhe– her breathing quickens, fear seizing her. She's stuck in this place which devours all light, which devours all life, and there are bodies around her but she is all alone, and her brother called out to her but where is he? Tears well in mismatched eyes and she tries to force her lungs to slow their rabbit's pace. "Where's Luckypaw?" Scorchpaw croaks as her mother plants a kiss upon her forehead. She leans into Scorchstreak's embrace with her whole pelt, the way she had when Badgermoon had shown his true colors and abandoned them.

And Cherrypaw– where's Cherrypaw? The tortoiseshell molly had pushed Scorchpaw to safety when her own fear and shock had anchored her in place among the crashing rockfalls. Figfeather seeks her out, and Scorchpaw tries to keep an ear out to listen for the other girl's reply– but truthfully, her mind is far too occupied to accommodate the extra attention.

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐈 𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐆𝐄 ✧ 𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿

• pls excuse how late this is TT_TT ​

• 

• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw
  — she/they ; apprentice of windclanclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — chibi by giinya, signature by raphaelion
  — penned by meghan

​