private FIRST IT GIVETH ↷ [ soot ]

[smogstar]

The tips of his claws taste the moorland soil. It is dense, unyielding, and not nearly as waterlogged as the earth is in ShadowClan. The last tidbit remains indelibly imprinted in Smogmaw's mind as he roams the border, trudging through tussock grass with an apathetic frown strapped to his jaw. He finds that he does not grimace with every pawstep, as he would on soggier ground, and the lack of crowfood carrying in the wind provides some solace to him. His passive expression betrays the liberation he felt in the moment. Walking where he isn't supposed to simply annuls the burdens of his newfound responsibilities, if only for a brief period.

Enemies. In what seemed like a heartbeat's worth of time, those who inhabit this land have become expected to incur his wrath. It is not a veneer of neutrality which WindClan lies behind, nor a frail peace. They are enemies now, and Smogmaw couldn't articulate why he'd expected anything different.

As to why he prowled the moors, he does not know either. A portion of him yearned to be found, spotted by prying eyes, and thereby accosted for his trespass. A more sensible voice encouraged otherwise, to promptly depart the land and any possibility of causing trouble. Whatever does happen, the deputy came equipped with a wealth of responses; hypothetical situations were his forte, after all.

// @SOOTSTAR ​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

Border patrols were not her area of expertise, she was a tunneler and her place was below the soil. Still she cannot help but peer out at the ShadowClan border these past few sunrises, just waiting for ShadowClan to try something they shouldn’t. The fur along her scruff bristles with unease, the other side of the thunderpath seemed quiet.

Emerging fully from the tunnel with dirt clinging to all areas of her pelt she tastes the air… was that… ShadowClan?!
The wind blew against her back, it couldn’t be a scent carried by the wind. There was a ShadowClan cat nearby! Just one, a Tom, had he come here to hunt?! It doesn’t take long at all for her to come upon the blue striped cat and in an instant she recognized him, Smogmaw!

Blood pounds in her ears and in an instant she’s rushing towards him, a piercing yowl erupting from her throat. Her aim is to chase him back across the thunder path, though she was prepared to pounce if he did not budge.

// hehe im okay with them talking for a bit after she chases him off/they scuffle! Whatever happens​

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Spoiler: TAGS ★ 03/13

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· SOOTSTAR, female — she / her
╰ ‣ 39 moons . pisces. ages on the first
╰ ‣ windclan leader . marsh-born . believes in starclan
╰ ‣ former soldier of the marsh group

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like heather and wet dirt , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue smoke . scarred chest, difficult to see through fur . green eyes

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Lawful Evil
╰ ‣ Cunning, brash, fierce, confident, self-reliant, envious & selfish
╰ ‣ finds great difficulty in relating to others . can be cruel, usually shows mercy to those she can find sympathy with
╰ ‣ sole key to her heart is loyalty, if you have her trust, she often shows a completely different side of herself. Aggression tends to manifest from her extreme paranoia
╰ ‣ Appreciates titles such as "miss, m'am" etc

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· SOOT CLAW x PEBBLE BREEZE, sister to Pebblenose
╰ ‣ heterosexual. mate to Weaselclaw
╰ ‣ mother to Windstrider, Sootchaser, Moorkit, Adderkit, Harrierkit, Bluekit & Cottonkit
╰ ‣ mentor to N/A
╰ ‣ average fighter . skilled hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

​

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[smogstar]

A shaded outline emerges in his peripheral. When he veers to parse whatever it is, the tom cannot curb the offhand chuckle which follows thereafter. Dusk-toned limbs tear through the moorgrass, carrying none other than the Goddess-Queen of the moors herself. His notched muzzle would twitch at her sight. She's accelerating in her gait, every footfall amplifying her momentum towards him, and compounded with the explosive battle cry tearing from her throat, Smogmaw can sense that exchanging pleasantries isn't in her intent. He stands stiff as a boulder in defiance of this. Paws planted in the soil, his raccoon-striped tail thrashing rearward, ShadowClan's deputy remains utterly unphased by the encroaching confrontation.

Without a moment of consideration or hesitation, Sootstar pounces. The cusps of her claws skewer his skin as her outstretched legs drive him into the ground. The whirlwind impact produces a grunt from the tom, ending up in a vulnerable position on his side under her mercy. Should she perservere in her ferocity, Smogmaw looks up with stolid eyes in the moment prior to her next attack.

"Greetings," meows the tabby, who coughs afterwards, struggling to reclaim the breath she'd knocked out of him. "Beg your pardon for my intrusion, Sootstar," he goes, "while our clans are at odds now, and I won't pretend to understand why, the feeling of your rich soil has been sorely missed by my paws." A dubious reasoning, one he couldn't see her accepting, though with it he aims to disarm any notion of malicious intentions from his end. Truly, he means no harm.

If allowed, the smoky tom would rise to all fours and regress a fair distance away from her. He does not yet wish to leave the moors, not when such a prizable presence is in his company. There's quite a bit he could learn from Sootstar, knowledge which may very well aid him in his pursuit of security. In turn, he feels that the enemy leader might take a keen interest in what he has learned from intermingling with her own enemies.

Muddy eyes train on her own, watching sharply, purposefully. ​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

ㅤ

SOOTSTAR

WindClan Leader
☆☆★★★★★★★

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HP:​

██████████

Loves:

Hates:

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With him now at her paws Sootstar’s mind races to make a decision. This cat was an enemy now, she could kill him! That’d certainly send ShadowClan a message not to trespass on her territory, their alliance may be over, but she would not allow them to trample her lands like they did ThunderClans! All it’d take was a quick bite to the throat… but now he was talking to her!

As he struggles to breathe out his greeting Sootstar dares down, her eyes narrowing. He begs for her pardon, speaks of their broken alliance and claims he missed WindClan soil on his paws. ”Are you stupid?” The insult comes out fast, nonetheless she allows him to stand up and distance himself a few mouse-lengths away from her. “Does ShadowClan intend to send hunting patrols onto my land now? Is that why you are here? To scope out the security of my borders?!” Did Chilledstar think her clan that incompetent? They were more foolish than she had thought, breaking off their alliance was stupid… but to think hunting on her land would be plausible?

WindClan does not need more enemies. She does not want to be at war with ShadowClan, RiverClan, and SkyClan at the same time. Even her confidence only rose so high, WindClan would be turned to crow-food if three clans unleashed their rage onto them. Her fur bristles, ”Tell your half-wit leader hunting here won’t be possible, you’ll have to stick to ThunderClan prey.”

​

 

[smogstar]

Sootstar's scathing question is received with a flick of the ears and an abrupt exhalation. As for the answer, it's a paradox Smogmaw himself has long-pondered in his needlessly prolonged existence. On one paw, the tom tends to be an overthinker, someone who spends too many hours reflecting on the what-ifs, as opposed to acting in the now. How might an overthinker come to be stupid? Well, on the other paw, a flagrant lack of impulse control leads to circumstances he'd have been better off avoiding—such as his current run-in with WindClan's leader. Do his quirks speak about his intelligence, though? Is he truly as stupid as she alleges?

Ah hell, he's overthinking again.

His auburn bulbs attend to the molly's own, shifting their focus back to the present and, vicariously, onto the most recent accusations to leave her mouth. A second tail-thrash marks his amusement at the condemnation. "D'you see a hare in my maw, Sootstar?" he asks, before glancing to-and-fro once the words hit the air. Beyond his lack of prey, Smogmaw stands here all on his lonesome, forming a rather pitiful patrol if that's what she really made of him. Perhaps she's the stupid one here. "I much prefer ShadowClan's frogs and lizards, thank you very much, they're far tastier than anything these moors offer." continues the deputy, a veil of goodwill burying his underlying distrust. He wouldn't say no to another hawk, however.

No such messages shall be passed on to Chilledstar upon his return. As it stands, he's undecided on informing them of this visit in the first place. Jaunts to enemy territory and the like aren't exactly befitting of his rank. "Hmm," Smogmaw voices, considering Sootstar's barefaced hostility. "Cast aside the hostilities. Unlike my leader, I've no reason to see you as a foe. Nor, I dare say, do you to I." A formidable leader, the ashen she-cat makes, though he can't see his passivity breaking through the barrier of her belligerence. He steps back, building a larger gap between them. "I've heard what the river rats are saying, what they're planning. You'd be better off with less enemies, as would we."

All of this, of course, is said upon land that is not his own. A land forbidden to his kind. Hmmph. Politics be damned, borders be damned, inter-clan tension be damned. No good will come of ShadowClan or WindClan's mutual venoms. ​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

ㅤ

SOOTSTAR

WindClan Leader
☆☆★★★★★★★

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HP:​

██████████

Loves:

Hates:

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Surprisingly, her fur begins to lay flat but the curled lip expression does not fade. He may not bear a rabbit… no… but what were his intentions? Why trespass on a clan’s land? Especially one whose alliance you just broke? She isn’t satisfied and is not amused by the deputies jest of preferring ShadowClan prey over WindClan’s. His following words do slowly begin to intrigue her.

”And… you’re here to tell me what they’ve said?” She questions, reluctant to trust the tabby. ”How would you have heard RiverClan’s plans? At what price are you expecting me to pay for this information?”

​

 

[smogstar]

Her response would betray his latent expectations, catching him unawares and, admittedly, dumbfounded. Smogmaw can only blink slowly as the next words to escape her mouth are not of offense, nor in challenge to his advancements. What instead follows is an assumption, and a fascinating one at that. While the lack of trust is worn openly and seeps through her entire being, the interest she's taken in his cryptic demeanour seams to override it. Thus grants him a window of opportunity. A delicious chance to have his way.

A cordial smile is put forward at the notion of paying for information. "Don't think there's really a way for you pay me, Moor Queen," the deputy admits, expiring through his nostrils. Security exists as the only commodity that her clan holds, and recent circumstances prevent WindClan from ensuring it. "But, that doesn't really matter," he says. "I could just walk off, pretend this never happened, and let'cha find out the hard way. However, I think that you're better off knowing what you're up against. Think of it as a matter of relative gains."

By a nominal degree, his head tilts to the ground below. He meets her gaze with a steely stare, and with his heartrate increasing, his breathing becomes choppier. "Hyacinthbreath, your little runaway, I've spoken to on a couple of occasions," Smogmaw begins, unknowingly nodding, "Smokethroat, a Lead Warrior, I've befriended at this gathering past. Both make for a good conversation."

"A joint attack from RiverClan and SkyClan looms over the horizon, it has for a while now," the tom tells her. By now his inhales and exhales have grown more intense, likely audible to the molly from where she stands. "You've brought war to their territories—you should expect them to return the favour soon."

He blinks again. The sway he holds, should she accept his words, is simply tantalising. This feeling, his own sick idea of power, is akin to the surge he experienced upon exposing Flickerfire's true allegiance. "When it comes time for the next gathering, when your clan is officially recognised as ShadowClan's enemy, WindClan's belly will be exposed. Cicadastar and Blazestar will know that we won't come to your aid, which leaves the moors vulnerable to an invasion." Claws entrench into the soil. Should such an offensive happen, the earth will be stained with her blood for generations to come.

"I'm not trying to get something out of you," the tom affirms her. "I'm not looking for favours or deals. But, I do want to give you something to ponder on: if given the chance to invade alongside RiverClan and SkyClan, how do you think Chilledstar will react?" A casual shrug ensues the question. Through a lens of realism, Smogmaw can only foresee his leader reacting in the affirmative. Despite their wishes to remain isolated, eliminating their new moor-bound thread would certainly come as a higher priority. If he carried -star at the end of his name, he'd do the same. ​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

ㅤ

SOOTSTAR

WindClan Leader
☆☆★★★★★★★

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HP:​

██████████

Loves:

Hates:

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This tom’s game infuriates Sootstar gravely. No matter how hard her gaze bore into his pelt, searched his eyes, she failed to find a motive.

Her tail stiffens at the mention of Hyacinithbreath, was that what this was? Was the ShadowClan deputy here spying for Hyacinithbreath so they could exchange tidbits of information at the gathering? Smogmaw seemed to insist he wasn’t here on nefarious reasoning, but the WindClan leader has her doubts. He reveals he’s also spoken to Smokethroat, a RiverClan lead warrior, before noting that a SkyClan and RiverClan attack looms on the horizon.

Her eyes narrowed, was this some type of clever threat? Or a genuine warning? If so how hare-brained did this tabby think she was? A kit would be able to predict RiverClan and SkyClan's ire. The blue smoke feels she is not the one in control here, and that feeling makes her all the more dangerous.

Patience cannot help but snap when she feels Smogmaw is spelling out the inevitable future and the dangers it holds for her clan. ”ShadowClan so bored that their deputy so throughly ponders the politics of WindClan?” She challenges with a spat, a bristling tail lashing around in the air. This Tom-cat was trespassing on her land, her territory, all just to tell her that her clan was not in the most safest of conditions… As if she could not already predict such! Yet as if he reads her mind he tries to assure her again, he wants no favors, but to give her something to ponder.

The feeble feeling of any assurance vanishes, was this a threat? Was this a subtle warning that Chilledstar has already been invited and agreed to such a plan? The smokes festering paranoia explodes inside of her. “The warning of your clan’s soon involvement is appreciated.” Sootstar growls, and that was her answer to the thought Smogmaw decided to let her ponder. ShadowClan would join an attack, why would they not? ”If it is true you are likely to be my enemy in battle, give me a reason not to gut you here and now mange-pelt.” After this exchange, she wasn’t quite sure it’d be wise to let him walk away. Why not lessen her future troubles right here and now? One less warrior for her clan to fight?

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[smogstar]

Anger begins to tickle the tips of Sootstar's features. The weight of his words extinguish the hesitance she had granted him prior, and he watches, concealing his delight as displeasure overtakes the molly's expression. This reaction hardly surprises the deputy. His language was pointed and clear when he spoke of presumed dangers, and any proficient leader would correspond to these threats with commensurate aggression. As bellicose as she tended to be, Smogmaw saw her not as a fool. It lay beyond the realm of possibility for her to submit beneath his ultimatums and seek compromise, and this he was fully aware of before even opening his maw. It isn't in his objective to accomplish such, regardless.

The coal-furred queen's hostile display is reciprocated with feigned leniency. As her tail thrashes outward, he takes a meek step backward, his own tail tucked beneath his hind legs. A query is made about boredom, and if it served as his motivator today. In reality, the answer is no; postulating the current state of affairs is what has kept him alive thus far, and thinking up contingent scenarios such as as this comes as a hobby from that. A reply contrary to his thoughts instead falls from his lips. "Very bored," he accedes, nodding in the affirmative, "got tired of the scenery back home, which is why you find me here."

He can only flinch at her ensuing eruption. Given the enemy leader's venomous state, along with a threat far less vague than his own, the dark-smirched tom contemplates his response thoroughly. He does not speak for Chilledstar, nor has he implied a decision has already been made, yet he cannot contest that point with what little words she will allow him. If he does have an edge, it is in the unbridled paranoia she put on full display. It is somewhat familiar to Pitchstar's conduct. He'd proven himself capable of bending the departed leader to his whim, but he knows better to underestimate Sootstar.

"That is your decision to make," he simply tells her, looking fixedly on her emerald gaze. "I trespass on your land and make threats against you—you are well within your right to take action." His breathing becomes turbulent, exhales atremble and inhales precarious. The climax of this encounter draws ever nearer, and his sway he holds over it wanes away. "Should I escape from your attack, my leader will learn a different story. They will hear about how a wayward patrol attacked ShadowClan's deputy with my wounds as evidence. When both accounts are shared at the gathering, rest assured Chilledstar's credibility will outweigh your own." These are no mere predictions, but a prognosis of the inevitable; and if Sootstar does attack, and succeed in gutting him as she so warned, these threads of an imagined future will almost certainly be set in stone.

An exhale, long-drawn-out and unnerved. "I do not imagine your clan will be so easily defeated by two clans alone," asserts the tom, "but you can prevent our involvement in such a war. Allow me to walk away." These words do not come in an imposing tone, not akin to his previous tirade. He speaks matter-of-factly in the face of the statement's intense nature. He is certain that an attack on all fronts is not something she yearns for. More importantly than a clan, Sootstar has a family to take care of, and surely she's aware of the danger that awaits her kits in the example he's given. ​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

ㅤ

SOOTSTAR

WindClan Leader
☆☆★★★★★★★

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HP:​

██████████

Loves:

Hates:

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Sootstar cannot believe her ears, this Tom was mad! Boldly he confesses that if he escapes her attack he will inform his leader that a wayward WindClan patrol attacked him. It’d strike fury into ShadowClan’s leader and they’d announce it to all at the gathering, no doubt. RiverClan and SkyClan would eat it up, she wonders if they’d just shred her to pieces then and there.

With a racing mind she thinks of her clan, her kits, her mate who only just recovered from the last battle. She thinks of RiverClan and SkyClan. She hears the roar of thunder and the pounding of blood in her ears. The stability of her clan just kept slipping and slipping out of her claws, it felt there was nothing she could do to dig them out of this hole.

So why not dig deeper and hope to find a geyser.

Sootstar races towards the ShadowClan deputy head on. At the last possible moment she aims to dart to the side and rake dirt-caked claws against his flank. Whether the attack succeeds or not she tries to use her speed to turn herself around and lunge on top of Smogmaw’s back before he can spin around, fangs hoping to dig and pull at his scruff. If the Tom-cat were to show his belly or throat in this attack it may prove fatal, the WindClan leader hopes to kill.

//She’s not holding back hits and wants to harm/kill! Obviously despite her intentions I’m not expecting Smog to succumb. Feel free to injure and beat Sootstar up or flee etc etc

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[smogstar]

Time slows down to a crawl when the final syllable parts from his lips, each passing moment an eternity of anticipation. Around him, the world stretches thin, the finer details becoming obscure and the air thickening with foreboding. All that remains constant is the wicked glint in Sootstar's eyes, enveloped by an emerald abyss of pure, condensed loathing. The intensity of her gaze pierces through his own, and severs his propensity to predict what's to come. For the first time since crossing the scent lines, Smogmaw realises his lack of control over the circumstances. Without the armour of his quick wit to shield him, he finds himself utterly powerless and exposed. Vulnerable.

When her response inevitably comes, it is not expressed by means of reason. It is not expressed through dialogue whatsoever. With the haste of the wind and the nerve of a predator, Sootstar breaks off into a sprint straight towards him. There is little he can do to defend or protect against the impending attack. By the time he even begins to brace, daggers puncture through the tender tissue along his flank. Scorching agony courses through his lower half and gives rise to a dreadful yowl from the deputy's throat. His surroundings blur into an anarchic hysteria of movement and noise, and all he is left with is searing pain and a sticky warmth oozing from his hindquarters.

The moment a similar acute sensation impales his scruff, the tom's survival instincts kick in. Adrenaline kickstarts his awareness and thrusts him into a pool of opportunities, from which only one seems tangible. While he lacks the deftness and speed that his adversary employed, she has opened up a contingency by anchoring herself to his back. Claws entrench themselves into the earth in search of grip, and when it is earned, he violently shakes; not so much to remove her, but to disorient and destablise. A moment thereafter, he rolls onto his back at full speed, a move which crushes his smaller foe should she not dislodge herself.

From there, he sprints. The sheer will to survive vanquishes the limp that will soon form as a result of her attack. His eyes trained on the pine treeline which comprises the marshlands' border, he inaudibly prays for her to cut her losses and turn tail, to spend time with her family while she still can. Every footfall worsens the wince plastered upon his face, but his gait remains steadfast until he crosses over into his own territory.

// out! tysm for the thread ava! :0 ​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

ㅤ

SOOTSTAR

WindClan Leader
☆☆★★★★★★★

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HP:​

██████████

Loves:

Hates:

​

Confidence surges when the she-cat lands her mark on the tabby's back. Stained fangs meet his scruff to rip, tug, and break skin. She feels certain she can handle this larger foe until he begins to violently shake, her grip loosens and as she feels him begin to tumble, she scrambles away from him with a hiss. For a split second it seems she has escaped his attack, but his shoulder lands full force on her paw as it fled him. It twists awkwardly underneath his weight and she lets out a yelp. Her marshland opponent does not sieze this moment to attack but instead to flee. Sootstar moves to chase after him but a sharp pain instantly flares up in her injured wrist.

An agonized gasp leaves her maw, she can do nothing more but watch the enemy deputy vanish into his swamplands. "Show your face here again and I'll shred you to mousedust, dung-eater!" Vilely she hisses the unpleasant curse, feeling outraged but equally helpless at the fate she knows teeters closer. Despite her estrangement with StarClan she finds herself mumbling desperate prayers as she limps back into the tunnel and heads home.

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