sensitive topics GIT OUTTA HERE!! || Rogue scuffle aftermath

Feb 7, 2023
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((TW: VIOLENCE AND MAIMING AND. AND ATTEMPTED MURDER))

Rogues have become more active, and this fact gets under her skin. They thought Windclan was weak, that she was weak. Well. She needed to remedy this. The sun begins its descent, and she leaves camp to go on a hunt. A hunt for two kinds of prey. The edible kind, and the kind to leave on the border as a message to all other rogues who think they're funny. She creeps through the grass like a snake homing in on a mouse. All is quiet except the wind rustling the grass. It's peaceful, but it does little to calm the fire burning in her blood. She is on a mission. She catches scent of a mouse, and turns to follow it.

Perhaps she can even use it as a lure....Hm.

No....If more than one shows up, she'll be in trouble. She may as well just give it to them at that point... And she's not the caring kind.

So she pursues this mouse with the intent to bring it home to Wolfsong and his kits. They're possibly the only kits she cares about. She doesn't HATE the other kits, she has nothing against Brightshine's family, it's just..... She should feed those she considers her family first. And Wolfsong was the closest thing she had to a father. So.....

....Maybe she'll try and find something to feed Brightshine's kits too. The thought of having to choose who eats and who doesn't among kits makes her....Uncomfortable.

As she nears the mouse however, a new scent reaches her nose. A rogue was nearby. She smiles. It seems the mouse was a lure after all. So she slinks through the grass, claws extended and thirsting for blood, just as her fangs are. It doesn't take her long to find him. He's caught her mouse already, eating it like he isn't being watched. He's a big one..... But that doesn't scare her. A cat is a cat and they all have the same weak points. She just has to strike quickly......

She hears a twig snap, and it isn't her.

The tom looks up in alarm, only for a smaller cat to come into view. The tom relaxes and laughs it off.

"I thought you were one of those clan cats for a second!" He chuckles.

"Nah, I'm cooler than them. Besides, they ain't all that tough. Nice catch! Bet they'll be real upset about it when they find whats left." The smaller cat said.

Azaleafrost bore her teeth in silence. She has a new plan. She could take that little one hostage and make an example out of him. She prepares to pounce as they banter back and forth without a care. The little one is in just the right spot.... And she strikes. She lunges with the speed of a serpent, latching onto him with fang and claw and pinning him to the ground. He lets out a shrill, strangled squeal of shock as he hits the ground hard, and the larger tom yowls in surprise.

A wicked grin crosses her face. She digs her claws further into her victim to hold him down, letting go of his neck briefly to spill her venom.

"My my, what a haul! I came out in search of a nice rabbit or mouse, and found two filthy trespassers instead! You rogues have gotten very bold recently.... And I want to remind you of who you're dealing with." She hisses.

"Let go of him, you foxheart!" The tom snapped, lashing his tail and bristling. "Or I'll tear you apart like a piece of prey!"

"You're in no position to be threatening me~ I'll kill him, you know. I'll make it hurt. A lesson needs to be taught...And I'm an expert on the subject of what happens to rogues on Windclan territory." She snaps back sweetly.

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart."

A new voice. Not only that, but she hears the voices of more, they're laughing. She's in trouble.

They appear all around her. She glances around at each of them... There's six of them, including the two she attacked. There's so many... Are there more? She refuses to show fear or surprise. She glares at all within eyesight.

"Let 'im go, and we'll leave you in one piece. I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face." The tom who spoke was big and black as night with searing yellow eyes.

She bore her teeth at him. The little one, white fur stained red with his own blood, writhed beneath her to no avail. Azaleafrost had him pretty well secured. She couldn't let him go, he was the only thing keeping her alive now. "No." She hissed. "Get off my territory and I'll let him live."

The yellow eyed tom narrowed his eyes. "Well, I tried to do this the easy way... Get 'er, boys." With the flick of his tail, he signaled to his group to attack. Even as Azalea bit down into the white toms throat, it wasn't enough. She was pulled from him before she could kill him. She was dogpiled under them, but she wasn't giving up. She lashed out with a loud screech, aiming for faces and throats. Claws raked her pelt and held her down as they tried to defeat her, leave her for the crows... But she would not let them. She kicked, clawed and bit at any flesh unfortunate enough to come within range. She nailed one cat in the eye, sending him tumbling back. Whether she took it out or damaged it she wasn't sure, but it was one less cat on her. She makes sure to utilize all her legs, kicking like she's seen rabbits do when pushed in a corner.

She hurts, but she has to fight. She must live. With another furious shriek, she latches onto an ear and rips, adding the toms voice to the chorus of painful howls. Blood covers his vision and he backs away. Azaleafrost spits the piece of shredded ear into another cats face. She takes advantage of their moment of hindered vision, gripping their head with her claws and slamming their face down into the dirt. With this one dazed, she manages to back away enough from her remaining attackers. She can feel every wound on her body. She needs to either run or finish this. She spits blood onto the ground as the remaining cats close in on her. She looks the yellow eyed tom in the eyes. He's the boss, it seems. If she can take him out....

She lunges for him. He catches her head on and the two screeching cats exchange flurries of blows before the larger tom slams her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. He plants one massive paw on her head and the other pinning her by the shoulder, keeping her neck exposed.

"That's quite enough from you." He growled.

She can feel fatigue gripping her. She's growing more tired by the second. She needs to do something. Her vision is blurring as she feels teeth make contact with her throat. It jolts her to her senses, and she twists her body, aiming her hind legs towards his neck the best she can and before he can bite into her, she kicks her legs out, digging her hind claws into his neck and shoulders and ripping them out as hard has she can. He releases her with a yowl, backing away from her and she pushes herself up. He glares at her and growls. He sees his injured fellows, and spits at her. Those wounds need to be tended to, and if more windclan cats come, they'll all die.

"Lets get out of here, boys. She'll be dead by morning anyways." He hisses. The others back off, and begin to retreat. He remains to glare at her angrily.

She returns the glare. "Thats right...." She laughs weakly. "Run. Run, and know that next time you set foot on these moors.... You will not be so lucky."

"Shut your mouth." He snaps. He raises his paw and smacks her down. She hits the ground hard, but she lifts her head in defiance.

"My only regret... Is that I didn't kill any of you." She hisses.

She laughs as he snarls at her. Luck was on her side, she hears familiar voices approaching. The tom turns and leaves, and Azaleafrost is left to lay in the blood of her enemies, as well as her own.

"And I just got out of the medicine den....."
 
Bluepaw’s mentor has barely stirred from her nest since Weaselclaw had died, but the apprentice does not have that luxury. She wakes at dawn with the rest of her tunnelmates, aching in a way she has never experienced, from her ear tips to the soles of her feet. At dusk, she descends into moss after wrestling with thick blue fur and mud clots, exhausted and dull. She feels weathered, a stone robbed of its edge after seasons of rain. The days are beginning to blend together, and on top of all of it—their prey is less, stolen by faithless rogues.

She tastes the air beneath the earth, surprised to find the scent of a non-Clan feline on her tongue. She gives anyone who maybe in the tunnels with her a guarded, tired look. Her head throbs, but she continues to push her way into the sunlight. As she does, the rogue’s stench evolves into a metallic bloodbath. She pulls herself into the world of the living, soil falling from her in rivulets. She stands over a weak, panting Clanmate, bloodied from outsider claws.

Azaleafrost.” Dull green eyes focus for a moment. “Stay where you are.” The stench of the blood is nauseating to her. She can hardly see the thin gray warrior. Her feelings are so heavy and deadened, but she forces herself to do the expected thing and care for this moor runner bleeding out into the grass. “I will get Wolfsong.

She spins about on her heel, toward their camp.


  • back to camp to get @WOLFSONG and @cottonpaw
  •  
  • bluekit . bluepaw
    — she/her, apprentice of windclan
    — bisexual ; single
    — long-haired blue she-cat with white and green eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — art by Meg
 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── It seems that yellowcough was only the beginning of their troubles— and on its own, it has done irreparable damage: the lives taken can never be replaced. The sickness is not content to creep slowly through their ranks, for the scene Bluepaw brings him to is not phlegm and coughing, but blood and claw-wounds. "Azaleafrost," he sighs after lowering his supplies, and the smile he spares her is genuine, if tired. Below it is concern for the marks left on her neck and shoulders, and he retrieves a wad of moss to press against the wounds, now frowning.

"Did you see the attackers?" He asks Bluepaw, noting her tunnel-dirtied fur and wondering how quickly she had discovered their injured warrior. He could simply ask Azaleafrost, but with his paw currently holding moss to her neck, it would be counterproductive to have her speak and potentially jostle his attempt to stem the blood. "I suppose it does not matter what the rogues looked like, merely that they were here. Brazenly." How long before they discover we are short in numbers? He thinks of his kits, soon to be apprentices, and his stomach sours.
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ 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, 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.
 
♢​ THE BEST MISTAKE YOU EVER MADE ♢​

marmotpaw & 10 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler apprentice

Marmotpaw smells blood.

That alone would normally be enough to have her pausing in her tracks, survival instincts at war with her curiosity, but the metallic tang is not the only scent she catches. Her blue one is up there, lost amidst a mingle of unknowns. Frown tugs at her features, pulling her scars in an all too familiar and uncomfortable manner, but she decides to risk it anyways - head poking out of a nearby burrow and onto the scene. Any thought of remaining there leaves immediately once the sight before her fully registers, paws scrambling against the soft dirt as she hauls herself up, pushing past wolfsong with wide eyes.

"What happened?" voice is more frantic than she means it to be, rage and fear strangling her head and her heart. "How dare they do this, on our own territory," she grumbles, paws kneading the ground - she feels useless. She needs to be better - get stronger. What good are useless feelings like concern when she can never act on them? When she is always one step behind?

  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • a shockingly tiny she-cat with pale blue and cream ticked tabby fur, save for a single patch covering her right eye that is brown instead, and mismatched green-orange eyes. she has heavy scarring along the entirety of her left side, from her face all the way down her chest, belly, and flank; which has been there since kithood. she is a twitchy little thing, known for her bad attitude and an unfortunate habit of biting when startled.

    physically medium && mentally medium
    non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    please attack using [b][color=#9ab973]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 
your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
The tom remained silent, watching with annoyed hues just wishing he could pluck their fur out one strand at a time, but alas, he wouldn’t have the patience for that. He might seem a tad bit uncaring, but Fogbound wasn’t some cold-hearted beast in seeing a clanmate injured. He was dangerously close to hunting them down, but he lacked the strength as much as that left a bitterness on his tongue.

He turned a critical gaze to Marmotbit, tail flickering in a faux question because truly did the other not—He bit back a sigh. It seemed his temper was far more violent than he would like, just barely redirected anger nearly sending him into a frenzy. He tsked. “Nothing will stop those parasites from taking what they want.” He huffed, whiskers quivering. “It seems they’ve forgotten that crossing borders, no less stealing have consequences and I hope to be there to witness it.”
thought speech
 
She hadn't expected Bluepaw to be the one to find her, and part of her expected her to just let her bleed out here. But Bluepaw runs to get Wolfsong, and she is relieved. She felt bitter with herself that she hadn't truly defeated the group of rogues, but she gives herself a little credit. There were six of them, and she fought off enough to make their leader retreat to tend to his friends wounds.

Satisfaction bubbles inside as she realizes they probably left a blood trail.

When Wolfsong arrives, she hasn't moved too much. She's set herself upright, and looks in the direction the rogues fled. Her ears twitch at her name and she looks back at Wolfsong. She doesn't expect Bluepaw to have seen the rogues, but if she did, thats even better, isnt it?

"Wolfsong..." She greets him softly, letting him poke and prod at her wounds to do his plant thing. She knows nothing about how herbs work. She leaves that stuff to the medicine cats.

Marmotpaw joins them and she feels.....Embarrassed. Would she think she's weak, laying here on battle scuffed and bloodstained ground? Does she look weak? She wonders why she suddenly cares so much. That feeling that she can't identify lights up in her chest and she wants to fidget, but she restrains herself.

"There were only two at first, so I attacked them." She explains. "One was small, so I thought to take care of him first. The other one yelled at me to let him go, which alerted... The rest of them." She continues.

She remembers their faces, and if she sees them again, she swears they'll be nothing but crowfood by the time she's done.

"They all attacked me, but I got a few of them pretty good. They had to back off to take care of their wounds. There should be a blood trail." She finishes.

She looks to where the leader of the rogue group had departed. They could still be on the territory, but would it be wise to go after them right now? They were short on capable warriors, and there could be even more rogues waiting. "They're growing bolder by the day.... We need to make a few examples out of them."