GUITAR GANGS AND CADILLAC BLOOD ✧ o, stolen prey

[DOOMPAW]

Doompaw’s claws are unsheathed and his limbs akimbo as he practices flying from some relatively closely-clustered tree branches. The feeling of the wind through his fur and the solid foundation of his perch disappearing from beneath him is exhilarating. Each time he lands his jump, he hops in place a little, a smug but genuine smile smeared across speckled features. “Twitchbolt! Hey! Lookit, there’s somethin’ down there!” His mouth waters instinctively at the scent of prey blood, but it’s different when it’s dead already. If he hadn’t been so hungry, he wouldn’t have bothered to look, but Doompaw scampers down the tree he’s perched himself on and flings himself to the forest floor.

As he nears the object in question, his brow furrows. “Hey…” The blackbird is picked apart, dismantled with startling brutality. Bits of wasted meat cling to leg joints. And worst of all, an unfamiliar stench hangs like a cloud over the bit of prey. Doompaw’s lower jaw quivers indignantly. “Twitchbolt! Y’better come see this…”

ooc ✧ 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘, 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘

• mentor tag @TWITCHBOLT but no need to wait 8)
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  — doomguy . doomkit . doompaw
  — afab, he/him, apprentice of skyclan
  — unknown sexuality ; single
  — short-haired blue tortoiseshell with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Though Doompaw seemed eternally fond of frightening his mentor out of his skin, Twitchbolt could not deny that seeing his climbing progress filled him with an odd surge of pride that he could not shake. It was a feeling he wasn't familiar with- accomplishment and happiness all at once. Feeling proud about anything he did was difficult for Twitchbolt- maybe it was easier, then, that he could attribute this work mainly to Doompaw's wild enthusiasm. Any apprentice of his was always going to learn to climb- but Twitchbolt was glad to have an apprentice who seemed to love it as much as him.

The stench of something dead though indeed caught the brown-and-white warrior's attention- wide green eyes broke their concentration to flicker up to the calico tom's face, a few branches ahead. Though first what had been buried in Doompaw's voice was excitement, now there lay an puzzled urgency that quickened Twitchbolt's pace. "That's- ss-strange," Twitchbolt shuddered as he followed his apprentice, leaping onto the forest floor.

Drawing up beside the younger tom, he cocked his head as he looked upon the blackbird- devoured, razed of any use it would have had to them. And it was not a fox that did this- Twitchbolt would know that scent anywhere. Disturbed, a spasm ran across his form. "That's..." He sighed, face contorted in bemusement and vague disgust. It smells like outsider; distinctly feline, but with no Clan-territory twinge to it. "Can you work out what- what did this, Doompaw...?" It was a test... though anyone who looked at him would be able to catch frightened knowledge a-glimmer in Twitchbolt's eyes.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[HOUNDHEART]

( ♡ ) "Whatcha find kid?" Houndheart asked Doompaw with a low, rumbling laugh that she seemed to pull up from her belly. Padding over at his call, all the humor faded from her as she followed his gaze.

She immediately shot Twitchbolt a knowing look. They both knew what had happened. That scent was all too familiar to her. An old rage bubbled up within her as she turned her gaze back to the scene, as it brought back memories of her time as a rogue, when she had to fight tooth and claw for her territory every day. Then, it had been only her that had been stolen from, now it was her whole clan. A clan that was already struggling for prey.

Whoever did this had best pray to the stars she never found them.

"I'll go report this." She announced unceremoniously, turning to stalk away. It was best the rest of the clan know to keep an eye out as soon as possible. ​

( MY DARLING; THE DEVIL KNOWS MY NAME )

 

[DOOMPAW]

Doompaw looks sharply up at Twitchbolt as Houndheart mutters something about reporting this and turns tail. “Someone else ate this and left it here, didn’t they?” He presses, turning back to look at the dismantled magpie. It seems it is a grave situation—his mentor is always nervous, but his tone is grave when he asks his apprentice what did this to the prey. Doompaw stares at him and then pokes at the bird. “Foxes can’t catch birds,” he says. “An’ if a hawk or somethin’ did it, we wouldn’t’ve found it like this, huh?” After a moment, he deduces, with some satisfaction, “This was a cat!”

His tail tip twitches, then the entire length of his tail begins to lash with excitement. “Can we go find out who it was? Can we attack ‘em?” He

ooc ✧ 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘, 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘

•  
•  
• 

  — doomguy . doomkit . doompaw
  — afab, he/him, apprentice of skyclan
  — unknown sexuality ; single
  — short-haired blue tortoiseshell with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​