harbinger - rta

[GHOSTWAIL]

Assimilation. She had learned to survive by accommodating, by bending, by assimilating. She was a chameleon, falling into the roles given to her by more charismastic, more powerful cats. Cats that would house her and feed her insatiable dog-like hunger all for the meager price of loyalty so she may cater to their ragged grapplings for control. In truth, it was an easy life she lived, the proverbial phantom hound, waiting for her master's orders. She would be what the phoenix queen wished and while she waited for her queen to point and order an attack, a kill, or anything else she so desired, she would be little more than a watcher.

Pale eyes surveyed the moors now, a delicate claw absent-mindedly tracing the outline of her prey's still ribcage. A little thing it was, a baby hare. She hadn't even meant to catch it - she had been aiming for the mother when she all but tripped into another nest. She had crushed three of the four kits in her stumble, the last's heart giving out due to fear. It was food now, a morsel to feed the morsels back at camp.

Kittens. There were kittens back at camp to be fed. Yes, she had to remind herself that it was unwise to view the clan's youth as expendable bits of flesh. They were to-be warriors, the clan's future. Yet still, she couldn't help but wonder if the kittens back in camp would keel over due to shock in fear if she were to approach them with this assortment of food for their pudgy milk-filled bellies. She was... not well-liked among the nursery-goers for her... intensity, so to speak. She often heard whispers amongst the young ones - boogeyman, the kittens called her.

Hm. Boogeyman indeed, she mused, picking up her morsels to begin the winding way back to camp.​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[TIGERFROST]

TIGERFROST ♂

0/9

WINDCLAN / LEAD WARRIOR
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH

HEALTH: ████████████████████​

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Head lifts and eyes glisten as they land upon a pale and ghastly form returning to WindClan's camp. At first, he mistakes her jaws of prey to be mice, small little rodents that they are. But no, within her teeth are the young of a hare, a curious thing to bring back to camp, but perhaps not for the reason Ghostwail might think. Food was food, but the Lead Warrior can't help but wonder if the other WindClanner was struggling to hunt, having to resort to such easy prey. Perhaps it was too soon to judge, though. She may have simply heard the hare kits and decided not to waste an easy opportunity. Whatever the situation, time would tell. Tigerfrost doesn't think he's ever been assigned to a hunting patrol alongside Ghostwail. Perhaps her pale white fur made her skin too sensitive to the sun, much like Whitepaw. That would explain it, then, if the skeletal warrior preferred to hunt beneath the stars rather than the sun.

At the very least, his opinion of her is rather neutral. The former rogue has never actually given the clan any trouble, and she came from the same group that Sunstride did, if he remembers right. If he could become such a loyal WindClan warrior, Ghostwail surely had that capability as well. The Lead Warrior flicks his tail at her in greetings, but for now, says nothing as he observes. He's curious to see how the rest of the clan reacts to her curious catch.​

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[SCORCHSTAR]

Since WindClan’s camp has been locked down, Scorchstreak has found herself within the gorse walls more often than not. Normally she would use the excuse of tunneling to stay in the darkness, within the comfort of dirt walls. Now, though, with fortification taking place and everyone hunkered down in preparation for a war, Sootstar has ordered tunnelers to stay close as well.

She watches, tricolored tail curled around dark paws, as a familiar white form makes her way back into the camp. Like Tigerfrost, the slender she-cat is curious, but unlike the lead warrior she has no reservations about approaching Ghostwail when she catches sight of the other WindClanner’s oddly small catch. "What’ve you got?" She questions the bone-pale warrior, golden eyes narrowing with interest. The prey that Ghostwail carries is remarkably small—a bunch of hare kits, she realizes after a moment. The red-striped tunneler thinks that killing rabbit kits is a waste of life, taking away future adult rabbits from the clan’s prey pile. But at the same time, with Spiderbloom’s new litter of kits, the clan could use some smaller pieces of prey for them and their tiny mouths. The logic there isn’t black and white, exactly.

"Ah. Are you headed for the nursery with those?" She gives the aptly-named, ghostly white cat a smile, not quite as concerned about Ghostwail’s reception amongst the clan’s youngest. They’re kits, sure, but they don’t need to be coddled, do they? If they fear a clanmate, then they’ll need to get over it. At least the she-cat has an offer of food to make up for any frights she may give the kits.
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[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 By absorbing the rogues into WindClan's ranks, Sootstar gained an advantage different than those who fill their ranks with exiles and kittypets still learning how to live without their twolegs. They need only to learn the new rules; everything else –battle, hunting, survival– they know already, although Wolfsong is able to admit that adjusting to clan life can be an obstacle. He assumes that is why he has seen little of Ghostwail, and truthfully, under Whiskey's command, he hadn't known her any better.

He glances down at the rabbitlings she bears. Such is the lot of life; everything eats and is eaten. There are enough rabbits thumping away in their burrows that one litter's loss is not so great.

He glances at his fellow leads, Tigerfrost a silent, dark spire as he often is. Scorchstreak asks where she means to take them, and their small bodies would certainly be best suited for the kits. "Is the sun not uncomfortable?" Wolfsong finds himself asking, thinking of Whitepaw.
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[Badgermoon]

Badgermoon found himself increasingly grateful for the rogues that had become part of WindClan as the threat of war loomed on the horizon - again. The black-and-white tomcat was halfway through grooming a clump of dirt from between his toes when he caught the familiar rumble of WindClanners' voices, and his head perked up. Three of their lead warriors clustered around Ghostwail, who carried a small fortune in small bodies. He heaved himself to his (not yet properly cleaned) paws and trotted over, attempting to flick his tail against Scorchstreak's flank in affectionate greeting.

"Hare kits." observed the deputy in an even tone, perhaps unnecessarily. Considering it was the heart of newleaf, he didn't mind so much - there was prey in abundance, thanks be to StarClan - but he still, generally, preferred that hunters only bring back adult prey. He pondered for a moment if it would be worth articulating this to the older warrior before dismissing it - he was sure she knew. He didn't want to make her look or feel like she'd done something wrong by bringing back prey. Instead, he mrowed in amusement, "If you are going to the nursery, be careful. Being a queen doesn't make Spiderbloom any less ferocious."​