GOLDEN CHARIOT [⚜️] Thunderpath Skirmish

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

A veil of fog drifts across the thunderpath, the silhouette of cats vaguely visible as they cautiously cross the road. Paws press down on soggy earth, dampening their toes as they begin to rub and roll around against the treeline of pines. It was petty land they were claiming a land too, it could offer them nothing but roadkill from the thunderpath. However, they did not claim this territory for prey, they claimed it to teach a lesson, to send a message. WindClan would not let ShadowClan trample them with lies. ”Smogmaw of ShadowClan dies.” The order comes from Sootstar, the lithe leader of WindClan. Smogmaw thought that he could trespass on WindClan land and get away with it, thought that he could twist the truth. His lies have caused great humiliation for WindClan in front of the four clans, Chilledstar had claimed his reasoning for the ’no trespassing’ code to be because WindClan had crossed their scent marker, not the other way around. This dawn, Sootstar would take control and turn their lies into reality. Hopefully the blue tabby would show himself so he could get a taste first-paw what happened when WindClan was toyed with. Crouching in a patch of dark grass, Sootstar’s eyes bore into the pines to search for shining eyes. // @WOLFSONG @sunflowerpaw @Mintshade @Azaleapaw @HOUNDTHISTLE @Firefang All WindClanner’s attending have been tagged, some apprentice pairings may not be present! If you’re a ShadowClanner please don’t post unless you’ve been informed you were chosen to be apart of the skirmish!

 

[Firefang]

Firefang fully supported this battle; Shadowclan had gone unpunished to long. They'd made them paranoid over a moon ago waiting for a battle that'd never come a battle that was warned by a overly mouthy deputy who was getting what he deserved tonight! There was no warning no preamble, they were striking in silence making a mockery of the most stealthy clan in the forest, she couldn't be happier then to spill their blood all over their own muddy territory. She hardly hides her excitement, it's been too long since she properly fought (other cats anyway) and this victory seemed so ensured to her.

Thunderpath was far scarrier then the crowfood eaters however and she was happy to finally cross it onto safe land where no monsters could rush across the hardened stone and slam into them anymore, it always made her uneasy... It smelled of death, the monsters roared in a way no other creature did compared to crossing it the fight ahead would be kittens-play. She chances a look behind her to make sure the rest of the patrol had crossed safely and only then does she face forward again falling in step with her leader. A chuckle rumbles out of her chest it's soft and melodic ❝If I get to him I promise to make it hurt❞ she grins wolfishly, she's yet to kill anything much greater then a hare but to her it was only a matter of time - there would be no greater honor to her then felling Shadowclan's deputy in battle but she'd be happy to tear into any one of them.

Her ears swivel on her head nostrils puffing out, she's looking for any slight presence coming their way but hasn't noticed anything yet. She busies herself marking her claim onto one of the nearby trees, her claws stay fully unsheathed as she does. ​

( ✦ )

 

[smogstar]

A haze hangs over the territory this morning, one so thick his claws could pierce straight through it. It's at its densest within the innermost recesses of the swamp—when the dawn patrol first commenced, the deputy's field of view was limited to a mere two fox-lengths ahead. As the column of ShadowClan cats ventured further towards their borders, however, the fog would lessen in intensity, and grant their visions more leeway over the murky terrain. But as they advance, Smogmaw finds that his pawsteps become more deliberate, uneager to lift from the dew-moistened earth beneath them. Something ominous lingers in the air, and though he failed to put a paw on what it was, it prickled at the very roots of his pelt. "Heighten your awareness," he instructs to those around him, yet he leaves it at that.

The group verges on the thunderpath, ever heedful, but the deputy grinds to a halt the moment it enters his view.

"It smells vile," Smogmaw would simply remark, "worse than the filth Ferndance found." Of course, the dark-toned tom refers to the flagrant odour of WindClan infecting their side of the border. It does not simply waft over from the moors, but bonds to the trees and underbrush like a festering sickness. A battalion of their enemies has committed trespass. Swiftly, his head pivots to see those who stand alongside him: Chittertongue, Ratwater, Sabletuft, along with Maggotpaw and his own apprentice. "Listen to me," he would demand in little more than a harsh whisper, "get mud deep into your claws. If you see anyone unfamiliar, go for their throat."

His eyes home in on the younger ones in particular. "Lay low. Do not stick together, but stay within view of each other. We must ensure our border is pest-free."

At that, the tom entrenches his claws deep into the muck, and embarks on cautious pads in the direction of the border. He's vulnerable in this position, that much he's certain of. But, his muscles are poised for action, and, in a morbid light, he's giddy at the prospect of taking a trophy home.

// tagging shadowclanners present! @CHITTERTONGUE @>Ratwater @S A B L E T U F T, @Maggotfur. @SHARPPAW. ​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​

---

He slunk along the ground behind the majority of the patrol, broad shoulders working under his pelt as his nose wrinkled at the stench of the thunderpath and Shadowclan. Once a clan Windclan called ally, under new rulership they turned into traitors like the others, only these ones spoke true lies, and used them to spin tales of Windclan, it did little to shock Houndthistle but the clear underhanded, back-stabbiness of it all made him eager to sink claws into Shadowclan pelt. And, so, despite his large size, he used his darker toned pelt to his advantage and hid within some bushes, amber eyes seeking for the signs of Shadowclan's features as he would a rabbit hopping along the moor, unknowingly entering the claws of Windclan.

His ears twitched as he spotted Smogmaw, claws slipping out of their sheathes as his muscles remained poised, waiting, for the call to battle, seeking out the cat he believed would cause the most trouble for the patrol. His plan was to keep them busy while the others would decimate the others, confident in his clan's abilities to absolutely cause some pain.

---

"speech"

---

OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES

• text
• Physical Health
  
  100%
  ⤷ no current wounds
  Mental Health
  
  98%
• 
  Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in none currently
  
  Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.
  
  — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
  — excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
  — poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
  — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
  — smells of iron, leather, and wood
  — speech is #435E75

​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ Lilac figure shift easily through the haze of the morning hour. Fog thick and swirling from the marshlands around them. It's calming and even can be soothing. Being awake this early is strange but he supposes being able to check things within the sunlight might prove fruitful. His ears pull forward as he listens to the sounds around himself. Keeping pace with the one leading them. Long legs shift and then the tainting smell of someone else meets his nose. It's vile that much is certain and he feels a tremble slip through his form. Oh, oh, Windclan. So they have decided to break the very code that they agreed to keep. How typical. His eyes flick towards the deputy then and with ease that ever present smile lengthens, widens to bare fangs. A giddiness is consuming him and he unsheathes his claws to make sure the muck and grim are embedded in them deep. He will make sure that infection of any wounds is very high and very likely. If anything he finds this foolish but instead he focuses on what might happen today. He wants to take home an ear, maybe someone's tooth.

Trying to swallow down his chilling giggles the tom slips his way along the pines, eyes narrowed upon the border and upon the thunderpath. His tongue slips along his teeth, jaws pulled taunt and ever grinning. He wonders just what pain this will cause Windclan because he is sure they need a lesson taught. To never cross the shadows.​

 

[Mintshade]

Some would say the dark molly rather suited ShadowClan more than the moors. Her sisters were both blue-pelted and short statured, suited for the open fields environment of WindClan; one for moving beneath the earth and the other swiftly above ground. Mintshade herself, even her name seemed more akin to the marshland cats with her looming dark form and long limbs; an amalgamation of bristling wires draped upon a cat that prickled in every direction and the only indication there was a creature within the shadowed coils were the piercing acid green eyes that narrowed in delight. Despite all of that, she was truly a WindClanner, and her enthusiasm for the bloodshed to come was more than enough evidence for that. Her claws ached and itched, she found herself sheathing and unsheathing them again and again as the patrol waited in trepidation for Sootstar’s signal to begin. Her gaze drifted to her side where the sapphire form of her apprentice lay in wait at her flank and she offered the girl a toothy grin, “No one lives, Azaleapaw. Show not a drop of mercy, ShadowClan has earned none of it.”
The foul swamp land dwellers had sullied the once pristine Marsh Colony's name and territory with their foolishness and arrogance and she would happily cute a swathe through them from loins to throat with one claw at a moment's notice; gut them like the prey they were.
​

 

[Azaleafrost]

Just as she thought, the squishy ground of the marsh was gross and uncomfortable. Her fur prickled at the feeling of mud squishing between her toes. This was awful. Why do cats live here.

But she wasn't here to be grossed out by the marsh. She was here with Mintshade for one reason, and one reason only.... And that was to put Shadowclan in their place. They were going to pay for their lies this morning in blood that she was all too eager to spill.

"Understood." She replies to Mintshade with a rare smile.

She flexed her claws and crouched low beside her. Soon the attack would begin. She would make her mentor proud.
​

 

[S A B L E T U F T]

⋆⍋ The wiry-furred tom padded alongside the rest of his patrol, keeping at a distance just far enough that he could still make out their figures, but Sabletuft had been traveling mostly by scent alone. The fog rested across the surface like a blanket of smoke, making him feel uneasy. On edge. He couldn't help it, a patrol meant to monitor their borders yet they could hardly make out if there would be any intruders aside from scent. They would all have to be cautious moving forward.

His sights turn to Smogmaw's direction as the Deputy addressed them. It appeared the blue tabby shared the same train of thought.

A grimace formed on his maw. They all wordlessly close in together to Smogmaw, like moths. Sabletuft glanced to Chittertongue, the closest warrior to him while Smogmaw gave instruction. The dark tom would abide, unsheathed claws sinking into the pebbly soil. A strained pull in his chest, Sabletuft could feel his heartbeat begin to pace faster. He could feel the beats against his pulse points, his ears, the pads of his paws. Chittertongue's obvious hunger for something between his teeth stirred similar feelings within the old tom, feelings he thought he had long since abandoned.

Sabletuft licked his lips, already feeling the taste on his tongue. He wasn't sure if he enjoyed it or not.

He is silent as he loyally followed their little caravan.​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

————— ☀ —————
AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG

Sunflowerpaw knows they should feel grateful in being chosen for this patrol, entrusted by their leader as part of a small few, set to kill the ShadowClan deputy. To teach them a lesson. And yet — there is a dread rising in their chest like bile in their throat. They choke it down. They know what Smogmaw did, know that he is cruel and scheming and never to be trusted, know that he attacked they leader, threatened war. If any of the marsh-dwellers deserve death, surely it is him?

They keep close to Wolfsong, as they often do on patrols such as this. An anchor, in this unfamiliar quest, seeking cat-blood on their paws as they never have before. He is brave, they know him not to shy away from battle. Hopefully he will give them courage. Yet their attention is drawn by another, mentor of the far more vicious apprentice tasked to this patrol. No one lives, Mintshade tells Azaleapaw. No one. Sunflowerpaw swallows, mind drifting to Maggotpaw, to the bone she gave them and her offer of solace among the cacophonous gathering.

They hope that Smogmaw is alone.

Sunflowerpaw's eyes flicker across the foggy marshlands, delicate white paws muddied as they trail through damp earth. Their face is blank, yet their fur rises, a prickling feeling creeping along their back. They unsheathe their claws, steel themself. They cannot afford to spare sympathy for these cats. They'll be ready, they hope, when the fight begins.

IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME
————— ☀ —————

.°☀ info ; visual

• //
  ​
• SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
  — they/them, 6 moons.
  — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
  — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most. rarely speaks.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• "SPEECH"
  ​
• 

​

 

[Maggotfur.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotpaw | 06 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple

---

​

Mud already clings tight to blue fur despite the early hour, pale wispy figure blending into the morning fog easily. A sense of something seems to upset the deputy, and while normally maggotpaw would roll her eyes at the annoyance her own pelt is prickling with unease - as though there are eyes upon her. The girls instincts have yet to lead her astray, and in all but a heartbeat she too is on edge - muscles rippling beneath her pelt as she tenses, ready to spring into action at any moment. Windclan she finally recognizes - and there's something beneath even that that wraps her senses in familiarity. Oh - its them. How interesting it is that they seem to run into eachother so often lately.

'If they're familiar, does that mean I don't have to go for the throat then?' she thinks amusedly.

Perhaps she should be taking this more seriously but really - shadowclan is not a place of happy memories for the girl. There is no magpiepaw to fret about keeping safe, only useless warriors and an apprentice she finds tedious at best. Teal gaze glimmers with mischief for a moment, and though she's not going to back down from this fight (why would she? she's confident in her abilities, and they've dared to invade her home) she will certainly have fun with it.

She begins her search - seeking out a pelt in shades of morning sunshine, pale gold and dove, or the telltale gleam of goldenrod eyes.

/ priority target this battle will be sunflowerpaw;; open to interruptions however!
Rolls: n/a

​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† The fog knows something that the rest of them don't.

They could be walking into their doom and they would not even know it. (It sounds like a stretch, doesn't it?) Was it hindering them, or shielding them from something they should not have to see? Another day, It's another day he tells himself. But another day in the marsh could be just as full of sickness and dropping flies.

Smogmaw of course, would know that better than anyone. He tells them to keep seeing, despite the mist. He tells them it smells vile. Sharppaw keeps his head down, but silently he agrees.

Listen to me. His head snaps upward. Reflex– eye-contact, Rainshade had always preached. Something terrible was coming. Get mud deep into your claws. Wide - eyed, Sharppaw obeys like she hasn't been trying to see anything but him for these few moons. Fear goads him into an unwilling soldier. The marsh feels like home in this moment, and its one that he would not like to be torn away from. Not upwards, not downwards. Not out or anything in between.

She's an apprentice of ShadowClan, and she creeps forward along with his clan.​

 

[>Ratwater]

— Limbs that were coated in the hues of clouds would carry the warrior. The femme whose pigment didn't only match the wholesomeness of the daylight sky but also the night as black splotches leaked from her soul and onto her form. Long fur pestered with the humidity of the fog that dared intrude upon their patrol. Tis the price of living within the marshlands though, the coverage of the pines making it more bearable to her tastes. Much like her clanmates she could grab at the tang on her tongue of tensions running high like a dam about the burst. Ratwater would spare a glance towards her brother, she knew he was more than capable of anything to come.. Regardless, her amber eyes would stir back ahead as she prowled forward. If someone so laid a claw upon him the molly would be out for blood.

Ivory talons drew from their sheathes. The dank smell of Windclan would taunt her soot-colored nose. So they finally had the audacity to do something? Would this just be a petty game of moving the scent marker back and forth or.. She couldn't help the sneer that rose upon her maw. The dual-toned molly could hear the steady chant of her heart, urging for someone to please do something. Anything. — tags​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 It is always strange to enter battle without Sunstride; his tall, auburn-brushed silhouette has been a source of strength and confidence for Wolfsong since he was young, and though he knows the warriors here are formidable, he has not relied on them as he has Sunstride. Further still, Sunflowerpaw's attendance coils thick knots in his belly. This is a warrior's path. I am not training a battle-shy fool, but claws as sharp as a clever mind. Even so, he does not lengthen the distance between himself and his apprentice.

There is a possibility the reeking ShadowClanners will see vulnerability there, but he'll lap rainwater from the caps of their skulls should Sunflowerpaw need carrying home.

"Keep your balance," he reminds Sunflowerpaw quietly. "Firm footing will keep you upright longer. Do not be afraid to aim for eyes or noses— and your own jaws can do to their paws what ground-teeth do." He waits for Sootstar, watching ShadowClan's beasts, smiling.
​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

Firefang growls with determination to kill while the rest of the patrol speaks quick murmurs to their apprentices. ShadowClan does not leave them waiting long, their eyes glow softly in the shadows and to her giddy, Smogmaw is among them. She locks gaze with the ShadowClan deputy, ”You will not live to learn this lesson, crow-faced scum, but your clan will think twice to make a fool out of WindClan after we’re done here.” She hopes to see him drop like a fly before this battle is won, and with her patrol thirsty for blood she is confident she’ll be satisfied. Claws slip from their sheathes, digging into the bog. ”WindClan, attack!” Her voice strains as her yowl pierces the air and she flings herself forward. Sootstar fights defensively, only taking jabs when she sees an opening to dive in. She was small, much smaller than most ShadowClan cats- roughly the same height as an older apprentice, the leader knows her strength lies in her agility and swiftness. These big-pawed, clumsy ShadowClan cats would be no match for her quick and cunning mind… surely? //sorry for the delay, this landed right before the weekend </3 Sootstar is open for attack! I won’t be rolling, you’re more than welcome to Feel free to moderately wound :) she may leave the fight later on to fight someone else. Sootstar can maim/kill with perms PLEASE also eventually move this fight to the thunderpath, it’s only a couple fox-lengths behind them. WindClan is trespassing by mouse-tails lol

 

[Mintshade]

Mintshade gives the blue apprentice a brief tap on the shoulder with the side of her kinked tail before moving into a low crouch of her own. Every muscle was winding up tight to spring at a moment's notice and her ears fall flat to the WindClan leader's opening commentary. ShadowClan was going to regret making up lies about them, because they'd get exactly what they wished for in doing so. You want a WindClan trespasser? Enjoy these WindClan trespassers.
She hears only the pitch of Sootstar's voice before she is launching forward without hesitation, Mintshade doesn't even process the order only the sound; she certainly hopes it was a call to attack because she was already moving to do so.

There was plenty of ShadowClan cats to pick from, she had options and it felt briefly like she was sorting the freshkill pile debating lunch before her eyes honed in on the scruffy old dark cat before her that looked like a decent enough opponent. She didn't want to break the necks of any apprentices, there was no joy in destroying untrained cats for her; she wanted a challenge and this fellow looked like they might give one. Her cackle of a laugh rose up as she bound ahead and without much ceremony or warning she threw herself forward into Sabletuft with hopefully enough force to send them both rolling; a chaotic opening to what she hoped to be an enjoyable time shredding his pelt.

---

[Ooc]
Attacking @S A B L E T U F T
​

 

[Maggotfur.]

EYES COVERED IN INK AND BLEACH​

maggotpaw | 06 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold mediumpurple

---

​

As those around her explode into battle with a loud cry from the windclan leader herself, she finds her target just there, hidden within the fog but not well enough for keen gaze to miss it - and without a single pause, without a single change of expression she's moving solidly forwards through the marshy undergrowth with a startling amount of speed for a cat of her size. She knows not just shadowclan, but especially the area around the thunderpath like the back of her paws. Charging at sunflowerpaw, she goes to bodily slam her shoulder into the smaller feline in an attempt to separate them from the rest of the invading group, to separate them from their mentor, and push them back towards the thunderpath.

It's nothing personal - in fact, the girl would like to think of it as her own strange form of kindness. If her... acquaintance(?) were to engage with anyone else, they wouldn't be so kind after all. She'd rather see them leave a bit bruised with tail tucked between their legs than bloody and beaten, or worse. Perhaps it is only fitting that they are reunited here, again, where they'd first met.

/ Rolls: 16 ATK + 2 DEF
- she is basically wide open to retaliation RIP
@sunflowerpaw just so you get the notif <3
​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​

---

Sootstar's caterwaul splits the sky and within an instant his clanmates rush from their hiding, chaos erupting within a second. He has to catch himself from blindly rushing forward, eyes narrowing in on the shape of his target-a lanky one who's grin wouldn't be matched upon Houndthistle's face. Once within comfortable range, Houndthistle would shoot from his hiding spot attempting to use his large size and weight to slam the cat backwards and away from his clanmates, Houndthistle snapping his teeth in hope for causing any minor wounds. Sootstar wanted Shadowclan blood to flow on the Thunderpath, Houndthistle would deliver the perfect opportunity for her to ensure such thing. His teeth would be bared, snarling loudly in his chest that thundered through the sounds of the forest as he glowered at the tall, lanky cat.

---

"speech"

---

OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES

• rolled a 17 for attack, attacking @CHITTERTONGUE / open for retaliation & moderate wounding.
• Physical Health
  
  100%
  ⤷ no current wounds
  Mental Health
  
  98%
• 
  Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in none currently
  
  Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.
  
  — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
  — excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
  — poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
  — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
  — smells of iron, leather, and wood
  — speech is #435E75

​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

————— ☀ —————
YOU ARE THE DAYLIGHT

The signal is given, Sootstars words, her battle cry, slicing through the fog, and Sunflowerpaw scarcely has a chance to breathe before the battle commences. Their clanmates dash in around them, but there is no time for the to select an attacker, as the large form of a ShadowClanner comes barreling through the mist towards them. They do not startle, but their eyes widen and their claws dig into the ground as they face —

Maggotpaw. Familiar white face, familiar cold expression. Elegant form now displaying the strength hidden beneath layers of fur as she darts quick and purposeful towards her target.

Their stomach drops.

They should have known this was coming. Liars and schemers, all of them, bloodthirsty ShadowClan waiting for a chance to rip away any hope of companionship with pinprick claws and gashing teeth. Right. That's what this is. There's no time for disappointment, for hurt, as the larger apprentice slams against them. They stumble to the Thunderpath, just as she had planned, yet their feet remain steady. Firm footing. Separated from their mentor, their clan, but it barely registers past the ringing in their ears. Betrayal, betrayal. What an idiot they were to dare hope she could be anything close to kind.

Sunflowerpaw's recovery is quick. They surge forwards, propelling themself with their back legs right back towards her. Eyes, nose. Paws. That's what Wolfsong said, but the thought of inflicting the same injury they've felt upon Maggotpaw makes them feel more than a little sick. Instead, they thrust their head towards her nose, hoping to make her stumble, before darting forwards again with snapping jaws. They hesitate only a moment, unsure of a proper target, until they settler on her shoulder, trying to clamp down with a bite that's not quite as strong as they were intending. Blame it on the inexperience, it's fine.

YOU ARE THE NIGHT
————— ☀ —————

.°☀ info ; visual

• // ROLLS: 16 DEF, 15 ATK
  attacking @Maggotfur.
  ​
• SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
  — they/them, 6 moons.
  — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
  — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most. rarely speaks.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• "SPEECH"
  ​
• 

​

 

[smogstar]

In accordance with what was foreseen, a brigade of unasked-for company hoves forth from the morning mists. They bear claws and fangs, and gnarled brows that speak brashly of their lethal intent. This is no mere skirmish—no mere scrum over border-hopping prey, but rather an ambush of the most spineless variety. A premeditated attack, and, as embellished from the degenerate jaws of the moor queen herself, one woven with his demise as the ultimate objective. Smogmaw can only glower, eyes bereft of the apprehension he felt in his gut, as Sootstar expounds her hostile soliloquy. "Blood-crazed mutt," he responds, which comes as a rasped hiss. Knuckles clench and coil inwards, tasting the loam-soil beneath. "I'll decorate my nest with your gorgeous eyes."

An inferno of battle breaks out around them, whilst shrieks and yowls shatter the morning ambience. Loathing begins to bubble deep within his gullet, as he takes fleeting glances at those who've already found a dance partner. A dark-painted molly sets her sights on Sabletuft, a propagandised enemy apprentice takes after Maggotpaw, all while a mongrel of a cat pursues Starlingheart's brother. But it is Sootstar herself who lands on the receiving end of his ire. WindClan's wretched leader propels forward, just as she'd done moons before when her claws carved down into his hide. The same shan't happen again. A single precision strike holds the power to shatter the mightiest of glass cannons.

Claws painted in muck, hungry for her white throat, Smogmaw contends with her jabs to the same extent as his own patience. Eyes narrow into a wince every time she meets her mark, yet his resolve remains unyielding; with vengeance resting on the tip of his tongue, whatever pain he experiences channels into a seething fury, just waiting to be unleashed at the opportune moment.

Now.

"Succumb to me!" he cries, bringing his claws upward in a swift and violent slash that sought to hew the delicate veins residing under her neck.

// open to attack / retaliation! i'll roll if that's your style :3 and as always, if you're interested in a specific in-fight interaction, hmu on disc! ​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ He is ready and waiting, hidden within the fog. Waiting and watching Smogmaw. His jaws are trying to chatter due to his excitement. That chittering he is named after coming to light, sounding like a crazed hyena just as Sootstar calls her mindless drones into action. They never once think about turning the whole forest against them or what that can mean for them. No, they live for the moment and good for them he supposes. Life goes fast, in the blink of an eye. But living life this dangerous has its consequences. Surely they know this. His claws filled with the boggy muck of his home stretch forth and his wild wide eyes focus for a moment on Sootstar but he doesn't much care for her and he is sure that Smogmaw will make her bend. Instead his partial vision is taken up by the visage of another rushing at him. "Oh a big bo–!", The wind is knocked out of him and he is reeling backwards. Yet his grinning face never falters, never ceases as he goes with that momentum. His claws flex as the other grapples with him and he sudden laughs sharply near the other's ear.

His claws flash, muck dripping and he aims to dig them into the shoulders of the other, claws pushing sharply up at the other's belly in an attempt to force him back. Or least he wants his stomach cleaved into. Squirming and wiggling he is like a slippery eel, one that will not keep to his grasp if anything can be said about it. Even as blood wells up in legs he flails dangerously and precisely.


@HOUNDTHISTLE
​