wc rebels EXTERMINATING SON | refugee + a warning

[SOOTSPOT]

[ warning for brief mention of self-inflicted injuries! ++ retro to attack (by like 2 minutes lol) ]

They had sinned against him. It had started with Dandelionwish, who'd first exposed him to treachery and how easy it was to wear the skin of a sheep. Every council member had been under scrutiny then, and every council member had proven themselves just as devious. Then, it had been his mother, putting her faith in some ShadowClan mongrel, overlooking him to fawn over traitor siblings, choosing Snakehiss over Deputy instead of him. Then... it had been his apprentice, the same one who had made a promise not to drag his name through the earth but fled WindClan all the same when it was convenient. Agony had clawed at his heart and left a gaping wound when he realised what she and Cottonfang had done, They had signed a death warrant, not their own, but his. Had he stuck around in camp, he could only imagine what sort of punishment he would've received for Downypaw's dissension so soon after promising they would not doubt their home again - with no medic to cure him either. To love something was to set it free, there was so much he could do for his mother, but she had stopped helping herself. The scar on his chest felt like melting lead, oh how he wished he could tear it away.

The breath caught in his throat as he slipped helplessly in the mud and the ice. Blurry grey shapes darted towards him through the cutting winds, and, despite the time to protest their intrusion, the tom collided directly with them, leaving marks upon his pristine pelt. Scratches struggled to pierce the density of his chimera fur, promising the bruise more than bleed, seemingly done from behind, from those that had chased him, perhaps. He knew he had to make it as convincing as possible, with no time, all he could hope was that a few knackered claw marks and soil draped across his spine like the splash of a river would be enough to convince them that he had fought for his right to be before them. In and out the tom's breath racketed, bursting through the tree boundary of the horseplace. He waited for piercing fangs, to taste his own blood upon his tongue for his insolence, but all he could tang upon it was fear - his own. He had thought the most important thing was to be right; everyone he'd ever proclaimed to be a traitor was one. Now, it was plain as day that 'right' did not matter, that justice was an illusion made not only by the stars he'd forsaken but by the cats who claimed themselves better than them. He'd turned his back upon both, he was alone, and even as figures barrelled toward him, there was an emptiness that made them seem like faceless rocks. This time, he wouldn't charge into them.

"My mo.... Sootstar's just over the hill!" He called in a rasp. "She intends to kill Cottonfang and the rest of you with her lackeys," he winced as he spoke - the wounds, he told himself, it was the wounds. He'd made many that day, none quite so fierce as the mental ones, saving his skin had come with interesting consequences when he referred to the very creature he had been yesterday. "You need to move, now." Be that away from the barn or somewhere else.
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[SCORCHSTREAK]

The sight of Sootspot makes Scorchstreak’s blood boil. Another rat, another wayward loyalist of the moorland queen. Turning tail after a month—a month too late, in her eyes—once they’d realized how little Sootstar truly had to offer them. Perhaps it was a change of heart, or perhaps it was merely cowardice. Any cat without conviction would change sides if they believed that they would be safer joining Sunstride and the other half of the clan at the horseplace. Cottonfang’s own motivation is still shrouded in mystery in Scorchstreak’s eyes; Sootspot’s arrival is met with a snarl. Cottonfang had said Sootstar’s warriors would be coming for her… "I should kill you right now. How do I know you aren’t helping her?" She hisses at the younger WindClanner, ears flattening against her skull. Why should Sootspot be here, when he has so staunchly stood at his mother’s side? Why have not one but two of Sootstar’s kits defected after so long continuing to take orders from her? In her eyes, both Sootspot and Cottonfang had missed their chance; the only thing that stills her claws is the reminder that she holds no authority here.

Golden eyes flick over the wounds across the tom’s figure, nose twitching at the scent of blood. At last, she bares her teeth and takes her eyes off of Sootspot for a moment. "Sunstride! Sootstar is nearly here, now." She calls out to the tom, swinging around to seek him out—or his mate. Either of the two tabby-striped toms who’ve become their de facto leaders, she doesn’t care which she finds first. If there is truly an attack coming over the hill, then they do need to move, and fast. Everyone needs to be made aware as quickly as possible.​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

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[SUNSTAR]

Though his teeth bare instinctively, his claws unsheathed with tension in his paws, there is no time for his rage. Sootspot and Scorchstreak's commotion hauls him into action, his place by Rivepaw abandoned and his mind already whirling. Perhaps Scorchstreak spoke true about the both of them. He could not fault her for it. What good would they do now, dragging more scent trails to their sanctuary? What good might they do in the battle that seemed ever more inevitable? They had not fought for him before. At least Cottonpaw could be excused from such things– she had not been in camp. (It will do him no good to think about whether or not she would have chosen their side even still. Would she have stood by her mother if she saw the carnage unfold? Could she stand by Wolfsong, knowing that he was a warrior before he was ever a healer?) It was pointless to think of it. He is far too tired to try.

The last of his energy is expended on rage, and he is snarling at Sootspot with his shoulders high, spine fluffed. He spoke with panic. With wounds across his own pelt. Disgust has no place on the battlefield. And that was approaching all too swiftly.

"Move!" he calls back towards the barn, his voice thundering. "Those of you who cannot fight, go to the back of the barn. Hide yourselves as best you can, and keep your eyes on those worse off than you." Should the worst come, the advantage a few injured clanmates might pose could be great. A few rested, if wounded, cats to pad their numbers when the time is right. Sunstride's mind is whirling. "Cotton–" Even in the middle of effortless speech, his tongue stumbles over her name. He skips it entirely. "Gather the supplies that you brought. Those that fight will return to you for treatment, even if the battle goes on." Even if they die before her paws.

"We will not flee. I will not flee. If any of you cannot say the same, go. Now, before you have lost your chance entirely." Perhaps whatever cowards remained would tell their tale to the other clans. Perhaps they would do what he could not, and plead with them to drive this snake from the forest. His eyes bore into Sootspot. "You have one chance to prove yourself. Take it or leave it, but if you do not fight with us now, I will not see you again."

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

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[RATTLEHEART]

Much like both Scorchstreak and Sunstride before her, Rattleheart held no affection or happiness in her gaze when she spotted Sootspot, drawn over by the sudden yelling. Instead there was just an uneasy disgust there, her sister's words echoing the exact same sentiment that she felt. What reason did they have to trust Sootspot, when he had spent so long obediently curled at his mother's paws? He'd been all too glad to curl his lip at and gossip about any possible dissent just a mere moon ago, so what exactly had changed? Her madness becoming too much for even him didn't seem like it was out of the question, but it wasn't exactly a reasoning that made the older tunneler feel sympathetic towards him. If anything, Sunstride's words were the only thing keeping her from joining Scorchstreak in taking a chance to drag her claws over his face. Instead she just grit her teeth, listening intently to what her leader had to say.

"...I'm not going anywhere. I made my choice when I followed you out here Sunstride, and I don't intend on running anymore." Her words, although just as hoarse and rattling as ever, were also sure. When she had turned her claws and teeth against Harbingermoon and followed Sunstride and the rest to the barn, her future had already been laid out in front of her. A future that would no longer involve fading and hiding into the background or running away - she'd either help them all reclaim their true home, or go down bloody and fighting in pursuit of that same goal. "I'll help some of the injured with getting into the back of the barn." Thank Starclan they had been given enough time for her own wounds to mostly heal, or she was sure she would've been joining them back there thanks to Harbingermoon's assault. She still had a few scattered wounds from the patrol incident, but they were relatively minor by comparison, and there was no way they were going to keep her from fighting this time.

She turned to go then, pausing only momentarily so that her own pale green gaze could burn into Sootspot's matching one. "Sunstride's right, you know. You have one chance. Don't waste it." There was an uncharacteristic coldness to her words, her usual shaking and soft tone replaced by something icy and unforgiving. Things may have been different if Sootspot had joined them all a moon ago, but he hadn't - and she had little intention of simply forgetting that anytime soon.
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

Sootspot fell to their haunches, exhaustion creeping into their limbs, as they tried to appear as unthreatening as possible to the rebels. They'd never been too different from Sootstar, keen to ignore him unless they wanted something, and the very first creature that infected his chartreuse eyes wanted blood. Pupils flickered warily, then, he let out a huff - he would see how far this dog's leash stretched. "I could say the same of you," he regarded Scorchstreak with suspicion, heartbeat bursting into his tufted ears. The blood that coated his flank brown was on fire as he accused. "Only one of us has killed their own kitten for that cat." He'd only killed one cat for Sootstar, a rogue that would not be missed, tossed off the side of a gorge like rat bones. Brows flashed as he searched for Scorchstreak's excuse for such an act, brought back to the present and reminded of what lay beyond the horizon by Sunstride's appearance.

He blinked incredulously, then, turned to the rosette tabby. The chimera stood once more and limped forwards, confident he had secured his place among the young and sick, when... 'if you do not fight with us, I will not see you again again.' Whiskers twitched in fatalistic amusement. 'Ah... hello Sootstar.' Teeth bared weakly. "A fool's errand. I was run ragged securing my sister and Downypaw's escape from WindClan, these wounds will make me a liability," he hissed with urgency. He knew Sunstride would not care if he died in battle, he had given the traitor no reason to care for him, but someone else might have more of a heart. They were running out of time for someone to make a difference though, enough to the point where they didn't even acknowledge Rattleheart. "With that in mind... where do you need me?"
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[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ The tom speaks once again, and Scorchstreak blinks once. Her expression remains carefully blank, anger smoothing into something neutral, as Sootspot flings the accusation at her. "My son was hardly a kitten. He made his own decisions." She will not attempt to make this fool see reason, not when the comment is clearly meant to upset her. It does strike true as intended, though; she sees her lost kits’ faces each time she closes her eyes. Dappledsun, her first kit, her beloved child—and now Rumblerain has joined their brother in the spotlight of memories that haunt her. The black-pointed feline is not gone, but is lost all the same. They have taken Sootstar’s side, betrayed their mother in the same way that Dappledsun had.

She shakes off the comment after a moment, shifting to stand a step closer to Rattleheart. She will not leap at him, not unless Sunstride gives the order to do it, but her limbs remain tensed for a moment, prepared to pounce. Sunstride’s shouted orders do not send her into motion, even as Rattleheart turns to help settle those who cannot fight in the barn. Scorchstreak does not move from the larger tom’s side, and though her hackles remain raised, she no longer pays attention to Sootspot. Whether he fights or runs, he is hardly a threat now. The greater problem is the cats that will surely come into view at any moment. "I’m here for as long as I breathe," she says to Sunstride, flicking an ear in his direction. She may not have a clan to fight for any longer, but at least she has a cause.​

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