sensitive topics HEAT DEATH ⋆ RETURN

[WOLFWIND]

Wolfwind drifts in and out of sleep.

There is shuffling all around her. At times, it's nothing more than that. At others, she hears panic - stricken words — ones she doesn't have the mind to decipher. She'd like to tell them it's okay, but her tongue is like mud in her mouth, For the slivers of consciousness she has, she can only manage weak mewls. She can only see foggy shapes of black and brown and red; her clanmates, she knows. She thinks it a lovely thing, that they had strength enough to walk. Of course— she does not register her limp form slung across their backs. She's only glad.

When she wakes again, her eyes do not feel as heavy as before. a sniffle atop the backs of her clanmates announces her wakefulness. This is ThundedrClan, still. She knows by the bare trees that pass them by. She knows by the familiar scent of friends and family. It didn't hurt as much as she thought she would, but maybe that was just because she didn't know what she was missing.

It's her first word in some time, when she mumbles, " ...Moonwhisper? " StarClan, please let her be alright. " S' she okay? " she slurs, swallowing the bile that's pooled in her mouth. " Emberpaw? "

Was she okay?

It isn't what matters. No, not at all, but she feels numb in more places than one. Her face— what happened to her face? ...Did she have it still? The thought is subdued, of no great importance, but she wonders all the same. Limbs twitch, and there is a beat between feeling static non - pain, and the press of web along her somewhere. It jogs something in her mind then. It reminds her to hurt and she does. Teeth bite down on her tongue at the sudden bubbling of a hiss. It hurts, burning, searing pain, and she's suddenly lightheaded again, dull eyes squeezing shut as she fails to withhold her groan of pain.

and we're on our way to glory ⋆ ( where the show wont ever end )

• ooc: takes place after this thread! She's being carried by @HOWLINGSTAR and @FRECKLEFLAME , return party includes Nightbird, Batwing, Wildheart, Moonwhisper, Emberpaw, Tigerpaw, and @BERRYHEART
  

• does not account for scars.

  

• [ AND THE ENCORE LASTS FOREVER . . . ] WOLFWIND THUNDERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR! LITTERMATE 2 LAKEMOON; KIN TO MANY.
  
  

  SHE / HER, CONFUSED BY BUT NOT OPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  CURRENTLY 25 MOONS OLD AS OF 12.3.2023. AGES EVERY 1ST.

  
  FRIEND TO MANY! UPBEAT AND UPFRONT. MOVES THROUGH LIFE WITH AN UPBEAT EXTERIOR AND BRIGHT EYES. MAKE NO MISTAKE! TAKES HER JOB VERY SERIOUSLY. THERE'S IMPORTANCE IN SAFETY, RECKLESSNESS ONLY GETS YOU SO FAR. ONCE A FOOL, BUT NO LONGER.

​

 

[BERRYHEART]

Berryheart was mad with worry. Blood boiled to the surface, did not settle- his flesh prickled with concern, with anger, though he knew not where the rage came from. It was irrational- but he found himself at war, momentarily, with the world that had hurt his neice, had wrenched her eye out so gorily, that made it so he could not look at her. If he looked at her, and if he wobbled, he would not be able to help her.

Blood under flesh, and blood-scent up his nose, and blood pouring out of his neice's face. It was unfair, and sickening- yet he could save her. Unwavering faith had to be held that he could save her. His ear flicked in her direction. "Everyone is alright," he assured her, though for once Berryheart was unable to keep his voice level and calm. He worried desperately, and it showed in the irregularity of his breath, the gripping panic.

"Move!" He raised his voice above the din, clearing a straight path to the medicine den. Asymmetrical eyes found his apprentice, and his order was a barked one, sharp and efficient- "Prepare a nest, quickly." Not a moment would be wasted. No, no more family would he lose. Not today, not while he was watching over ThunderClan.

\ talking to @HAILSTORM. ​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[freckleflame]

her cheeks are damp. she doesn’t remember crying, but it must have happened somewhere along the path between camp and that place. the earth works to forget it already, powdered the bloodslick snow until it went from shocking crimson to pink to white again. she thinks if wolfwind had passed in that clearing, she, too, would have been covered up before long. the she - cat isn’t dead, though. freckleflame can hear her mewling ; weak breaths like a starved kitten, mouth open and immobile aside from a too - fat tongue. each compression of her flank is misery, the knowledge of a coming breath and the fear that it might shudder to a stop at any moment. she simply staggers further alongside howlingstar, blind to her or anything other than the soft warbles of life croaking freely from her friends throat.

berryheart talks to her in a quick, frantic voice. everyone is alright. she tries to pretend, briefly, that he is talking to her and that everyone included wolfwind herself ; the weight on her spine convinces her otherwise. she wonders if the warrior had said anything at all, if berryheart hadn’t been reassuring her dozing husk for his own sake. she knows he wouldn’t — knows it even further when the molly lurches atop her back and utters a wail of a groan, something freckleflame wanted to howl herself if for an entirely different reason. she bites her tongue instead. it bleeds copper into her mouth but the smell was lodged in her nose already, clouding the entirety of her senses in red. she feels sticky and drying in the wind, black fur saturated enough to look like an early rust, packed in parts where snow coagulates into oily clumps.

when hailstorm prepares a nest, she would aid howlingstar in lying her gently in the soft moss. she shoulders the weight best she can — howlingstar was an older cat, powerful and proud as she was. the leafbare winds were cruel, and she remembers distinctly the complaints of her elders. aching joints. it would be the least of the tabby’s problems now, she supposed ; but it takes her mind off of the sudden burst of cold along her back where her friends bulk falls away. she hates it, suddenly. she is startled by how much she hates it, the sudden emotiness whipping at the fur along her spine. she is all over her still, even lying now in her herb - lined nest ; she doesn’t know if she should wash, feels the petulant urge to wait until she knows the molly is stable despite the way it pulls at her skin.

her heel still bleeds an occasional drip ; an annoying trickle where teeth had scraped before being jerked away by her patrolmates. it was nothing compared to wolfwind — brave, glint - eyed. valiant wolfwind. she imagines sun glinting off her claws, outstretched towards a foul, snarling beast. she imagines her standing over it with her chest puffed and voice loud, celebratory. a better fantasy — one where the molly did not lie dying before her.

and.. she hadn’t truly considered that yet, in her haze.

now, with cats bustling around and a ripple of desperate murmurs bursting about the clan crowd, it’s all too real. colors seem to gleam back to life, too vivid, sounds too loud, even in the darkness of berryheart’s den. wolfwind could die. she could have watched a fox kill her friend and she doesn’t even know it yet. she did watch it, burst through the undergrowth to see the mollys life spilling into the snow. her mentor, her dear friend ; freckleflame orbited her and doesn’t stop now, not while berryheart and hailstorm prepare strong - smelling leaves it seems too loud, so she says, ” you did so good, wolf. “ its earnest, raw and pulled from her soul itself ; and she prays she can hear the honesty in her voice beneath the warble of tears it rides on, prays its audible beneath the ripping pain she’s suffering, ” kicked its tail. moonwhisper’s with us, y’ held it off long enough for us to.. “ to chase it off. she never lifted from dropping her into her nest, speaks near into her neck fur, but it trails to an abrupt end ( why is she speaking? why is she rambling? enough, enough. ). you fought a fight that took three warriors alone, she wants to say. she doesn’t say anything.

she is making sounds, a rapid sniff - hah. sniffff.. hah. the tortoiseshell does not hear it herself, but those around her would : a wet, panic - driven snortles that has her eyes glassy and face drenched in something blessedly other than blood. she hopes wolfwind doesn’t hear, but the she - cat had other things to worry about at present than her stuttering breath. wolfwind could die, her mind supplies again, unhelpfully, and she knows she must speak. she must say something, anything, but nothing sounds right or enough. how many cats got a last goodbye? how did she know it was one? what was enough to describe the sudden intensity, the sudden pressure - pain in her chest telling her the molly is slipping through her claws and she has to say something to encapsulates the hurt that brings. the fear, the desperation, the hurt — she wants her to look ( she’s eyeless, bloody in the face and blinded in a crimson daze ), to stay awake so death doesn’t take her. until berryheart returns and she steps away, she stays frozen, save for the trembling in her legs. she wants.

so she pants a begging, ” just stay with me, okay? “ as if the molly could give her what she wanted ( and freckleflame knew she would if she could have ).

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 -`☀︎´- 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘈 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘌 𝘕𝘖𝘞

• i.
  
  
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  FRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. SEVENTEEN MOONS OLD. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY! NAMED A WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORING COUGARPAW! PENNED BY ANTLERS --------------------------------------------
  
  f. she / her, daughter of sunfreckle and rabbitnose. large, fluffy cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. larger than life! every part of her is broad ; wide in everything from her face to shoulders to her feathered tail, something reminiscent of her father’s kittypet heritage in the square of her chin and hulk of her figure. she appears illusionarily fluff - ridden at first, thickly pelted in shades of fire and soot, long & tangled, knotted with undergrowth — seeming soft and pudgy, and she is.. that figure curving into hard, hidden bulk along heavyset flanks and well - muscled limbs. a characteristic lack of personal space leads her to a slouching, touchy posture, often inclined to lean or bump against her peers.
  

  prone to bouts of explosive emotion. all opinions are solely in - character and during these times, often untrue or said only in anger.

  
  

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[HOWLINGSTAR]

She is grateful that Freckleflame is who carries her granddaughter alongside her. She is young, with her father's hulking size and strength. And while stoutly built, Howlingstar is not as young as she once was, and her grief is crushing. She hauls herself, her kin, back to camp on staggering limbs, doing her best to blink away the stinging tears as soon as they arrive. But some slip by, rolling and dripping to the ground. She blinks again and ducks her head to push through the bramble entrance, and the hush that falls over the camp is deafening.

The words uttered by Wolfwind bring her hope. She isn't too far gone. She sniffs, "Yes, they're safe." You saved them, my brave, brave girl. Alongside the younger warrior, the tabby carries her to the medicine den and helps to ease her into the freshly made nest, grateful that Freckleflame's strength makes the task an easy one. Immediately, she sinks onto her haunches and turns pleading eyes onto her tortoiseshell son, wide and teary. "Berryheart," She begs, her question a silent one. She is looking for honesty. Looking for hope. Will she be okay?​

 

[GENTLESTORM]

I SEE A SONG OF PAST ROMANCE — The smell of blood reaches his nostrils first before the commanding bark of "Move!" soon follows, he emerges from the medicine den seeing that Wolfwind's a bloodied mess and soon Berryheart tells him to prepare a nest which the large tom disappears into the den once more for. Once its finished the lead warrior is carefully placed into the nest and Hailstorm turns to glance at his mentor with a frown present on his maw but he does not dwindle in the slightest. Large paws already making it's way to where the herbs were stored to get marigold and cobwebs before returning his mentor with ears pricked forward, her wounds were dreadful but they weren't fatal aside from the removal of an eye, and he sets down the herbs carefully.

Howlingstar seemed more intent on the mottled tomcat and Hailstorm decides to turn his attention to Freckleflame seeing that Wolfwind being in such condition brought the younger warrior pain but moreso emotionally, he reassures her in a gentle yet quiet voice "Don't worry, she's in good paws. And she's strong." A small smile present on his maw and he's certain that Berryheart along with his own assistance would be able to make sure that the lead warrior would live, he can see his mentors determination and refusal to lose another member of his family. And the large tom would do his best to ensure it as well.

I SEE THE SACRIFICE OF MAN ✦ I SEE PORTRAYALS OF BETRAYALS

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  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✧✧✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✧✧✧✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✧✧✧✧✧ KITTING
  — ✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
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  ✦ longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
  ✦ 51 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ bisexual demiromantic; mates with little wolf
  ✦ currently being mentored by berryheart
  ✦ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ semi-difficult in combat; relies on strength, his large size, and wits
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[braveheart : ̗̀➛]

☀ . ° ✦ A hard swallow rolled thick down Bravepaw's throat as he watched the rushing form of his leader and his mentors daughter. Sprawled over their backs is one of their lead warriors, Wolfwind and trailing behind several others- his father and friend included. It felt like he was watching from underneath the surface of a pond. Outside, disconnected from the moment as Howlingstar and Freckleflame deposited the iron-stench of the molly.

"Pa-" Bravepaw couldn't understand the sight, the smell of so much blood. It made his fur rise straight down his back, pointed up to the clouds. His head lowered defensively, as if whatever attacked them would burst from the gorse and come for him next. He pushed himself closer to the red fur of his mentor, willing himself not to be shaken.

"M-mister Sunfreckle, what do we do?" This would be the purpose of a medicine cat, he would soon find. Injuries were not for a warrior to cure. He could not hunt or fight or patrol his way into better health, he must feel comfortable in doing nothing but pray once again.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: — mentor tag @Sunfreckle
• 

  BRAVEPAW — HE/HIM ･ 4 MOONS ･ THUNDERCLAN & APPRENTICE ･ PENNED BY beatae!

  A Longhaired chocolate tabby/blue tabby chimera with deep blue eyes. Very thick coat that has started to develop curls. Paws that seem too big for his little body. Gradually growing into his ears.

​

 

[Moonwhisper]

—————————————————————⊰☾⊱————————————————————
Moonwhisper followed along with the rest of the patrol, silent as her namesake and still in quiet shock. Claw marks scored her flanks and her plush white pelt was stained red over most of her back and haunches but for the most part she felt much better than it looked - it stung and she felt the knitting of scars already beginning to form but she was hardly in poor shape when compared to Wolfwind. The tortie point sat silently near the medicine cat den with her head down and blue eyes still wide, lost in her thoughts and still trembling at the horrifying ordeal. If not for the lead warrior, her family, she would be dead. Another bright red stain across the snow to mimic her twin once more, another reminder of how pathetic she truly was that she could be so caught off guard by a predator that it took another cat saving her. It was no wonder Burnstorm was looked upon more favorably than her, it was no wonder she was regarded in the tolerant disdain of a clanmate you didn't like but humored the existence of; she could do nothing right.
She wanted to cry like a kit again, but for once she didn't have to fight the urge. The tears remained frozen inside her, solidified and unable to be set free even if she willed it.

☾ break all the rules - live like a queen or die like a fool ☽ —— do you care what they think

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  Moonwhisper
  —⊰⋅ Warrior of ThunderClan
  —⊰⋅ She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ LH Tortiseshell point w/ice blue eyes
  

​

 

[HOWLINGSTAR]

All she's left to do - all she can do - is trust that Hailstorm is right. She looks to him, eyes round, and nods weakly, her jaw still slack as the shock of it all seeps in. She casts another look at Wolfwind and grimaces, stifling more tears so she can back out of the den slowly, her ears angled back. "I love you, Wolfwind. Fight," She tells her granddaughter, voice heavy with emotion, before she must squeeze her eyes shut and turn out of the den.

Bravepaw is nearby, asking Sunfreckle what they do now. Pray to StarClan, She thinks, but waits to allow Sunfreckle to speak to his apprentice about these things. With eyes downcast, she meanders towards Moonwhisper who sits just outside, and if she allows her to she presses against her larger frame. "She will pull through. We have to believe that," She mews gently, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Her eyes shift from grief to worry, then, as she looks over her other granddaughter, scanning her blood-spattered form. "You're hurt, too. You need to be seen," She trills, voice pitching higher with concern as she leans to sniff at her wound.​

 

[WOLFWIND]

Everyone is alright, someone says, and she believes them. So long as the metal tang in the air is all her own, she believes them, and she's glad...

There elsewhere now, home; and she's laid in a nest that is not her own. Not that beat up thing she had woven alongside one of her clanmates, but something new— made just for her, and she thinks it's too much. Too much, because she never needed the downiest of things back when she was Wolf, living in that dreary marsh. Maybe back then, she had whined, but she's all grown up now... She knows it doesn't matter. Save it for someone else, she'd like to say, but her tongue is too busy flowing blood; being stuffed with cotton, turning to mush... No, the nest was hers, and she supposes that she would lie in it...

Cobweb heaves along her flank, and when she looks up, it's only half of a picture. Maybe less than, fuzzy and frayed; but she sees faces that keep her warm. They're safe, they tell her. Kicked it's tail. Her smile might be all painted red if she could manage it. Perhaps her weakness spares her dear friend an ugly picture. Thank StarClan it wasn't her.... though she breathes, as if it might've been. The only thing about this— she could not hold her gaze the way she would like to; to say it's all fine... Her sniffing is wet. " Freckle... " I'm fine, but she doesn't know, really. Stay with me. Wolfwind blinks at her, slow and watery.

Then they're talking above her, and funnily enough, it's easier to listen when she closes her eyes. What do we do? she hears someone else. Nuthin', she sighs to herself. Nuthin' of their concern...

I love you, says Howlingstar. " N'you, " comes her mewl. Love you too. She did it for ThunderClan. For her. Fight. If there's nothing else she can do, she'll go down fighting...

Sleep tugs oh - so - convincingly again, and Wolfwind sees no harm in letting it come. It's all static anyways, mutterings and mumbled voices. She'd rest for now. Rest so she'd never have to stand by again...

and we're on our way to glory ⋆ ( where the show wont ever end )

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• does not account for scars.

  

• [ AND THE ENCORE LASTS FOREVER . . . ] WOLFWIND THUNDERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR! LITTERMATE 2 LAKEMOON; KIN TO MANY.
  
  

  SHE / HER, CONFUSED BY BUT NOT OPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  CURRENTLY 25 MOONS OLD AS OF 12.3.2023. AGES EVERY 1ST.

  
  FRIEND TO MANY! UPBEAT AND UPFRONT. MOVES THROUGH LIFE WITH AN UPBEAT EXTERIOR AND BRIGHT EYES. MAKE NO MISTAKE! TAKES HER JOB VERY SERIOUSLY. THERE'S IMPORTANCE IN SAFETY, RECKLESSNESS ONLY GETS YOU SO FAR. ONCE A FOOL, BUT NO LONGER.

​