HELL OR HIGH WATER ✘ Return

[SMOKESTAR]

—————————————————————⊰★⊱————————————————————

The water clung to his pelt, sunk in deep and sliced its ice needle chill into his skin. Every stab was like multiple claws sticking into him at once, his legs were still numb and feeling disconnected from his body as though he were still within the depths of the river moving sluggishly through cold and heavy waters. Smokestar exhales and there is a rasp in his throat with every breath but he continues onward, leading his clan back to camp, back to warmth and safety, it was a victory. It didn't feel like one, not with as exhausted and as wounded as everyone was but it would eventually blossom like the upcoming newleaf, springing hope once more across the territory; apprentices could leave with their groups to practice hunting in peace, he would not fear every border patrol ending in bloodshed and death. Briefly he glances upward, the sky tinged a bisque blue and orange - earth melding into water, the edge of a shoreline dipping below waves; he hoped the cats they had lost could rest easier knowing it was over, that the clan would not suffer beneath rogue claws further for the time being.
Reeds part as he dips his head, his steps staggering and shoulders hunched over; as much as he loathes to require assistance he has maintained a slow loping gait of a walk the entire time alongside Otterpaw who had dragged him from the water's when the river tightened its teeth around him. It gave, but it took - he was no exception. There was still a faint disorientation from having drowned, a sensation he could not compare or explain in any meaningful way but one that filled him with a dread he couldn't place. Drowning wasn't peaceful, like one might suspect, the slow inhale of liquid, the suffocation - all he could remember was the panic seizing his lungs and his throat tearing in agony from screams muffled beneath a swill of dark water.

His voice was still ragged, single orange eye falls upon the first cat he sees on their return, tone gruff and strained, "...get Ravensong. We've won, they're gone." His focus drifts onward past the cats greeting the patrol to the willow tree den he sleeps in and an immediate urge to just crawl into his nest descends over him but he holds it at bay for the moment; rest could come once everyone was accounted for and the medicine cats were caught up on the injuries.
"...Petalnose..." He searches for the war torn molly in the crowd, "Arrange a patrol of anyone not seriously injured to twolegplace...make sure they've been chased off proper."

✘ I've got a reputation and a name to uphold. ✘ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

• Ooc - The return thread for the battle!
  Feel free to finish wrapping up your battle posts first if you like!
• 
  
  
  Smokestar
  —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

​

 

[iciclefang]

There’s still fur and blood between her claws that she tries her best to tug out when the battle party returns. Smokestar is at its helm, limping, black pelt littered with fresh wounds. There’s a weariness in the flame-storm depths of his eye—at first Iciclefang worries, scans the crowd for losses. Had the rogues taken another life from them? She pushes herself to her paws and approaches, belly shifting to either side of her steps. “You’re back… mostly in one piece.” Her cerulean gaze flicks from cat to cat before it comes to rest on her leader again. His voice sounds hoarse, like it’s tearing a new path through his throat with every syllable. We’ve won, they’re gone. Relief floods through her. It’s over at last.

He orders her to get Ravensong, and she dips her head. Her paws amble toward the medicine cat’s den, but before she leaves, she remembers: she has to give her own report. She flexes her claws. “Kindling came into camp. She tried to steal kits from the nursery.” She surveys the crowd, looking for Shellkit. Had they retrieved her successfully? “We drove her off. Everyone here is safe.”

With that, she turns, white tail-tip disappearing into the medicine cat’s den.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: getting @RAVENSONG
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 21 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Cicadapaw ; previously mentored n/a
  — riverclan lead warrior. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

​

 

[FOXTAIL]

Foxtail trudges into camp shortly after Smokestar, his body aching from the fight he just endured. He can still feel his heart racing as if he's still on that icy battlefield; he tries to take a deep breath to calm himself down, but it doesn't help much at the moment. His paws still shake from how their battlefield broke beneath their weight, he was one of the lucky ones who didn't take an arctic plunge. He wasn't sure if his opponent made it out alive— there's no way in StarClan his opponent died from wounds inflicted from Foxtail, but perhaps they perished in the ice cold water. ...Drowning is absolutely horrifying. It's a silent killer; it's a fast, yet gruesome, way to die. He knows far too well about it, unfortunately. He can only hope that no RiverClanner tonight met such a fate.

Iciclefang is the first RiverClanner to approach the returning battle patrol. The young warrior gives her a tired nod of greeting, hoping all was well in camp. But the lead warrior speaks up, and Foxtail's green eyes widen at the news. A rogue was here in camp, when they were busy battling a majority of the rogues? He had thought they caught them by surprise, one managed to slip away from the fight? His fur bristles in alarm for a moment, but relaxes when she reports Kindling was chased away, and her attempts to steal kits were futile. "A rogue got into camp?" He mews tiredly. The poor kits must be shaken up, but seemingly no one was hurt. "...Thank StarClan camp was guarded by some of our best warriors," He briefly looks over at Iciclefang, "I'm relieved to hear everyone was safe back at camp."
​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 —— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

• fox's wounds for feli! Shoulder & chest wounds from enemy claws!
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: tbd
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to rai for the mini & tropics for the icon <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  16 moons
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[Petalnose]

They won. It was surreal. Untouched her body was as well save for aching muscles. Despite her condition, despite Riverclan's condition.. everything was.. okay. Her faith in winning had waned over many of their losses. Yet… they won this time.

Petalnose shifted her way behind Smokestar, pricked ears furrowing when her name was called and her mixed attentive stare gluing upon the river king. It was surprising, having been told to stay within the confines of camp save for punishment. However, in the same it wasn't. She wasn't injured and from what she had seen, Snakeblink didn't come out as lucky as she was. Lichentail was battle torn, Iciclefang was of kits. She was best fit.

The Molly nodded curtly, scanning over their warriors and searching of health and strength. The freshly war torn was of many, so her count would be low. "As Smokestar commanded, let those whom don't need medical assistance follow me." Strong toned, a lift of her tail signaled before she turned to the exit. Another fight she wouldn't mind, she didn't get to tear her claws into many, merely assisting whomever she can get her claws upon. Riverclan outnumbered them this time. However, who knew what was hiding under the rouges' fur, hopefully it was merely rot. Trusting a retreat from the stubborn rats was touchy. At least, she got to kill two birds with one stone, finally lead a patrol and stretch her claws upon whatever remained. It would be fun to have her own fight. Then again, she hoped that victory would remain.

Tags​

 

[RAVENSONG]

Ravensong appears shortly after Iciclefang's disappearance into the medicine den. A nod of gratitude is given to the tortoiseshell and the look in his eyes betrayed that he thought it better she rest. But his tongue is held the moment he realizes that for all of their foresight, a rogue had managed to get into one of their most intimate dens. His curses under his breath but manages to steel himself as he prepares to meet the beaten and war-torn faces of his Clanmates. He had spent the day preparing poultices and cobweb swathes with Moonpaw so they were prepared.

His eyes scan the patrol and he breathes a sigh of relief. It does not appear they would use any mint today.

"Moonpaw, keep close, I will start examining the patrol and pick out those who are most injured to be treated first."

He steps closer to Smokestar, wary worriness in his gaze. Had he lost a life?


// since there are many wounded cats, to help me better keep track, if your character is injured, could you either add an ooc note to your post or underline it in your post if you are describing it in rp!

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them" — openly suffers from chronic migraines — single, but "it's complicated"

​

 

[FERNGILL]

Ferngill shone spotless, thankfully... he'd dirtied his claws and primarily avoided injury, though his chest heaved with effort. Surprise wrote clean emerald in his eye when Iciclefang declared Kindling had broken into camp- tried to steal more kits for her own. Worry loosened its grip on Ferngill's gut the moment his sister proclaimed that everyone was safe. In silent thanks, he dipped his head to her- for protecting everyone, even trapped within camp's walls. She was a true, hardened RiverClan warrior.

Petalnose spoke then, and Ferngill's attention was stolen. A serious expression occupied his bright features- it was over, he was sure, but you could never be too cautious. With one look over his shoulder at the returning war patrol, Ferngill padded up to Petalnose's side. "I'm coming," he volunteered- well, asserted, really. He was a lead warrior, after all! And if he got a few scratches driving off any scragglers, it really wouldn't be the end of the world. With his life, he trusted Petalnose- everyone in RiverClan.

\ joining @Petalnose ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[BEEFANG]

I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS THE MOONLIT SEA — Beepaw walked along with the rest of her clanmates casting a concerned glance in the direction of her father but hearing him tell Petalnose to organize a patrol of those that were not seriously injured to make sure that the rogues were driven out, Bee immediately perks up and its the least that she can do to make sure that her clan's safe from the threat. Iciclefang mentions how Kindling had gone into camp trying to kidnap one of their kittens and its enough to make her hackles raise and her jaw clench to know that rogues were truly selfish creatures. Her pelt lays flat though only briefly when the expectant lead warrior reports that they had successfully chased her out and it brings Bee a small bit of comfort, her mismatched gaze turning to Petalnose as she gives a curt nod of her head "Let me join you, I'll help." The bicolored apprentice was capable or that's what she thought when she decided to take that one rogue head on and she waits for Petalnose to answer her or give approval, Bee would stay out of harms way if necessary.

THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME ✦ BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA

• 

• 
  ✦ shorthaired black smoke molly w/low white and mismatched eyes
  ✦ oftentimes comes off as untrusting of those around her, closed off, and not the easiest to engage in conversation with, she's not easy to befriend. all her opinions are IC only.
  ✦ 8 moons old; ages the 10th every month
  ✦ sexuality unknown; currently interested in no one
  ✦ currently being mentored by smokestar
  ✦ firstborn daughter of cicadastar and smokestar
  ✦ sister of cicadapaw and cricketpaw
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[minnowpaw!]

"I, uh, I'll come too, Petalnose!" Minnowpaw volunteers absently, still shuddering intermittently from the shock of an intruder in camp. Her teeth chatter against her better judgement, but she can't tell if it's from the cold or from something else. It's over, Smokestar says. The rogues are gone. That in of itself is a relieving announcement. Minnowpaw doesn't think she's slept a full night since Sasha - her heart aches for her former Clanmate, always rough around the edges but never quite a RiverClanner in the same way Minnowpaw herself was - and Deacon had fled.

Lost Clanmates aside, blue eyes scan the crowd urgently for her kin. Is Mosspool safe? Is Willowroot? What about Carawaypaw and Bumblepaw, her own littermates? Her tail flicks, anxious. Smokestar would have been more urgent if one of them had died, right? ​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) the slender feline leans heavily against her daughter as she stumbles into camp. her ear - or what's left of it - burns like the stings of a thousand bees, and sticky crimson blood coats her face, some still oozing from the open wound. she has never felt this kind of hurt before (it is perhaps seconded only by childbirth itself), and her breath rips raggedly from her chest in an effort to stifle sobs of pain. beside her is bumblepaw, brave, sweet bumblepaw, who should be curled at her belly in the nursery, should be batting about a moss-ball, or bothering her older sisters, not helping her wounded mother to safety.

worried green eyes gaze about for a sight of her other children. mosspool and carawaypaw are unaccounted for, hazewish hadn't been there, minnowpaw is... she spots her silver daughter weaving her way through the crowd and relief filters through her pain slightly. ravensong slips from his den, his moonlit apprentice following close behind, and willowroot slips to the ground, exhaustion taking her muscles. her ear rings with noise she can't quite pick up.

THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // willow's got an ear fully torn off and is bleeding badly from that " speak "
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• 
  WILLOWROOT ☼ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING ROBINPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smokey long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, with friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape. her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[Moonbeam]

Since working on getting the poultices ready alongside her mentor had been finished - or as finished as they could be - the white moggie had been anxiously pacing the medicine den, afraid to leave in case Ravensong figured out something more that was needed but wanting to head back out into the camp to watch out for those that had been gone and were due to come back at any time. When Iciclefang came to get the black medicine cat she quickly followed along, carrying whatever she could that had been prepared with her to help heal those that she could outside of the medicine den so that there weren't too many cats within the den itself.

Nodding her head quietly at her mentor's instructions she stuck close to the other, eyes swiveling over those that were trickling in through the entrance of camp, landing on a select few to check for wounds before moving on to seek out others who needed the help. Despite the smell of blood that clung to the air, she was glad that so far it seemed as though there weren't as many that were critically injured as much as she had feared.

I WISH PLANT LIFE ꕥ WOULD GROW ALL AROUND ME

• 
  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ACHES & PAINS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ KITTING
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
• 
  ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ speaks softly & often found humming
  ꕥ 10 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently being mentored by ravensong
  ꕥ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
  ꕥ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[DUCKPAW]

tags! ₊˚✧ ﾟ. duckpaw staggers along at the rear of the battle-struck riverclan cats. she is pushing plants out of the way and stumbling through the jagged terrain without responding much to the environment around her. her eyes are wide (they seem to be stuck that way) but there is no fear or surprise in her expression. in her mind, she feels nothing but numbness. her throat is burning, and an audible wheeze is cast out with every laboured step. her muscles feel heavy, like she is using four stones to plot her course home. across the crowd, there is a heavy, dead silence, and every pair of eyes she meets seems to reflect her own. numb, nothing. they had won, but at what cost? the leaf-bare air stirs around them and stings. mud has caked her hackles during the fight, and has now dried on her skin. she looks rough, she feels rough, and the fight had only lasted a few seconds, yet it had all seemed to play out in slow motion. when she breathes in the air, she can almost feel prickles paws still pressing into her throat, as if she was some bug that needed to be squashed. duckpaw tries not to linger on the thought or feeling of it, lest she be stuck in that time. all she knows is that she never wants to feel that way again. desparate mind plots her training, she needed to advance, she needed to be the best, so that no cat could out-do her, so that no cat could ever make her feel that small again.

duckpaw isn't paying much attention, but they had now arrived back at home. she looks around in wonder. just a moon ago she had seen this place as more like a prison, with a whining mouth that detested rules of confinement instated by smokestar. now ... it is a safe-haven, and she would do anything to stay inside and not face the dangers that lay waiting just beyond these walls. smokestar announces that the rogues are gone, and her ears flick, but eyes do not adjust to react with a modicum of happiness. she just wants her nest. duckpaw brushes past the riverclan cats into the apprentices den, not even reacting to the news that iciclefang had shared. ​

 

[BRONZESHINE]

♡​♡ why you so obsessed with me ♡♡​

---

bronzeshine & 25 moons & female & she/her & riverclan warrior​

---

Bronzeshine trod into camp near the tail of the group, being less injured than most. She wasn't a monster, she held back to make sure nobody fell behind or needed help. The battle was grueling, horrible to witness. The blood-stained ice was an image she's sure is burned into her mind. It had her rethinking the way she was, wondering if maybe she should change for the better. If maybe her anger is something she should work on. She shook her head. Thinking hurt.

— boy i wanna know ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  
  
• 
  — sassy | flirty | proud | vain | irascible
  cis/het
  
  — physically moderate && mentally moderate
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
  — please tag account if attacking

 

[salmonshade]

Salmon can breathe a sigh of relief when Smokestar the and rest of the war patrol rears their heads back in camp, tail flicking behind her as she listens to Iciclefang report what had happened. Kindling was gone, hopefully for good- and the rest of the rogues are gone now, too, surely they wouldn't have to worry anymore. Surely there would be no more loss, but as she looks over the crowd her lips press firmly to a thin line, stress already washing over her body at the amount of red that coats some of their pelts.

Smokestar calls for Petalnose to gather the uninjured and make sure the rogues are driven off once and for all. Salmon slinks through the crowd with a certain fire that ignites a spark beneath her paws, claws flexing in to the dirt with each step. "I'm coming." she leaves no room for arguing if someone were to open their mouth (though truthfully, they need all the cats they could get). Who cares if she hadn't rebuilt all of her strength, yet? Adrenaline was a hell of a thing, she'd ride it until she couldn't anymore.

₊˚.༄ info

• 
  -> salmon ,, salmonshade
  -> cis female ,, she/her ,, 36 months
  -> warrior of riverclan ,, former marsh grouper
  -> fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with white, blue eyes
  -> "speech, ff91a4" ,, thoughts
  -> lesbian ,, single
  -> smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
  -> chibi by pin

​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Snakeblink staggers home in Smokestar’s wake, dripping blood rather than water—the bleeding has grown sluggish on the walk back but not stopped entirely. His breath comes out labored and halting; exhaustion has his lungs begging for air that he can only give in slow, measured inhales, and every pant has him wincing as it aggravates the bruising spreading in his chest like drops of blood staining water.

They’re alive and victorious; it’s worth every ache and pain.

Petalnose moves away on Smokestar’s order and he finds himself leaning towards the absence left by her body. He wasn’t leaning against her but suddenly wishes he had been: he feels less sure on his weak paws without the reassurance of her nearby to catch him, just in case. And there is a part of him that, emptied of blood, has filled instead with a strange kind of sadness; the dead rogue’s ghost-green eyes linger in his mind. He longs for the comfort of touch, an instinct long trained out of him and re-introduced by Lichentail’s relentless cuddling. He also furiously longs for a nap.

Sighing wearily, he allows himself the relief of sitting down before speaking. ”Have care,” he tells Petalnose and, along with her, the cats streaming around him like minnows to join her patrol. Raising his voice above a faint, tired hiss, he addresses the rest of their returning party: ”Everyone line up, those actively bleeding at the front. Let us make Ravensong’s work a little easier, yes?”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• Feeling pain while breathing due to bruised ribs, bleeding sluggishly from claw injuries on his sides and stomach, bruises on his back and sides
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 50 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[valesight ➶]

⸙͎｡˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎｡˚⋆

Nothing's broken. There are not pools of blood under his feet. No great rivulets of crimson to stain meadow grass and tree bark colored fur. They'd won. He had been a contributor and there should be an amount of joy in that.

But Valepaw cannot stop shaking even as he looms beside his brother, beside Aspohdelpaw drenched and dripping in a soggy, weighty coat. The sensation of burning in his throat had not eased with hacked coughs of expelled water, did not reduce the torment of his lungs and their near death. His pupils are narrowed to pin-point small fineness, staring in fixated horror at the space on the ground just in front of him.

His jaw tightens, untightens, working to chew down the flood of discomfort and fear that wreaths itself around him like a snake. He isn't dead. But could've been. He thinks to turn to his den-mate, to bury his face into his fur and wail an apology for shoving him in the river. Wants to sob and thank him and beg his forgiveness because.... Asphodelpaw can't be that bad if he'd almost drowned trying to save him too.

There is an ice-spike lanced through his gut, it wraps around his feet and keeps him firmly planted in his quivering state of disbelief, of shock. His mouth won't open. Eyes don't blink. Just horrified shivering. He swears.

He swears he could taste the stars.


//ooc note: no big physical injuries! almost drowned, stuck in a state of shock​

​

 

[Asphodelrain]

*+:｡.｡ Asphodelpaw's breathes come in shallow, but controlled huffs, eyes closed as he stands beside Valepaw. For the second time in his life, the boy faces his youth in the wake of a battle, disgusted with himself for the tremble in his paws and the wildness in his throat, bouncing anxiety like a frenzied thrush fighting to escape from the confines of his skull. But this time, it feels different. This time, though he'd faced the teeth of a vicious rogue yet again and had to be saved in the end, he still saw that he'd done some good. Some, not enough mind you, but some.

Blinking open his tired gaze, the apprentice would look sideways at Valepaw. A boy he couldn't say he despised any less, but it was difficult to hold onto that anger when he looked so...scared. Asp is thrust back to when he had attacked the boy himself, how quick he'd gone from a whining brat to a terrified one. All that cockiness gone in an instant he looked upon a clanmate he expected to trust and just...not being able to. Being scared was...an awful feeling.

He lifts a paw, and hesitates for only a moment, before placing it tentatively on Valepaw's shoulder. "Hey...take deep breaths Valepaw. In for four heartbeats, hold it, then out for eight" he explains, before taking a deep breath himself to show the kid. He couldn't tell you where he heard the rule from, since he didn't use it as often as he probably should. Perhaps from his parents - a melancholy thought considering he isn't certain - but the idea gives him some peace. He pulls in air, cold and sharp against his bruised mouth and teeth yet painfully refreshing. He tries not to think about the cats that won't ever breathe again - even if the lives lost were mostly just rogues, it could've been any of them. It would've only taken a second before it could've been them. But it wasn't, he reminds himself sternly, just as his chest begins to ache, expanded from trapped air rather than jubilant pride. He could be proud of it, he thinks, if he'd just let himself be. That they did it. That the prey-stealing, kit-napping rogues were gone. That the hidden dangers of the remaining ripple-colony cats were essentially erased after their big shows of loyalty today. That he'd done more than almost drown for once. Even if it wasn't...no, no, he'd done what he could. That could be enough. He could let that be enough.

Asphodelpaw exhales slowly, ignoring the pain prickling in his kicked chest as he focuses on keeping the release of air steady and smooth. As he breathes, he looks around at his tired, but still alive - still breathing - clanmates. The breath becomes more of a sigh then, as relief finally washes some of the anxiety, a clear rain against a soot-stained pelt. They're ok. They'll be okay.

"You did really good out there, by the way," he says to Valepaw, mouth lopsided in a tired half-smile, " Not a lot of cats your age can say they held their own in a middle of a war." He thinks back on their fights, on mortality, and those brief seconds he'd almost let go of Valepaw's arms. Quietly, he says to the boy, "Riverclan's lucky to have you, I hope you know that."

*+:｡.｡ Updated 3/1/24

• 
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☆ Asphodelpaw
  ☆ DMAB— He/Him — Unsure
  ☆ 9 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☆ Mentored by Crashingtide
  ☆ Riverclan — Apprentice
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☆ Physically medium | mentally medium
  ☆ Attack in bold #9fc3fc
  injuries: None currently

​

 

[shellpaw]

its been a blur. whirlwind of phantom white, of snow and cracking ice beneath smattered red paws, broken at the soft pads where the frost had stuck to delicate pink. feathergaze had dropped her at some point, but the little molly’s ears ring like high winds and though heavy amber eyes blink upward to find her again, her eyes are blurry with overstimulation. too young, she’d been far too young ; each hair of her aches, her limbs sore from the walking alone. she’d never had to walk quite so much, quite so far, and certainly not in such short amount of time. the rogues moved like clockwork, invading riverclan territory and somehow evading patrols by pacing and pacing and pacing. her paws are cracked and lined with blood, but she doesn’t yet know how to articulate it. everything hurts. everything is frightening.

she wanted to sit here, lost in the sea of bustling paws ; she wanted to hide her face, tuck her nose into dove white fur and close her eyes tight, if only the image of her mother behind squeezing lids would go away. it doesn’t, though, no matter how hard she tries and no matter how many smatterings of light that float across her cornea from pressing so. hard. shame prickles at every inch of her, every lick of curled fur looping baby fattened limbs, her fragile chest. her breath comes quick despite how little she’d moved since feathergaze had deposited her in camp and strangely, she is not hungry for the noticing scent of nearby prey. her tummy growls. it isn’t pleasant. shellkit tucks her paws closer to herself, dreads the moment her brothers see her, the moment hazecloud or lichentail sees her, her little baby siblings. how foolish could she be? how much of a kit could she be? she’d failed. she’s only made things worse. they would be so mad at her, and she couldn’t blame them.

iciclefang is the first to appear from the nursery, and her voice cuts through the hushed murmurs around her. kindling was in the nursery. panic spurs her to her feet and the cygnet hearted girl staggers forward, trembling from the cold and childlike grief. everyone is safe, she says, but she doesn’t see her.. her.. ” did she — did she hurt hazecloud? “ its a gasp of a question, tears ringing suddenly around sugarplum eyes. this was her fault. this was all her fault, ” i want to see her please! “

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𓇼 𝙎𝙊 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿

• i.
  
  
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  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. THREE MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes..
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber ---------- ° ❀ ⋆
  

  currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

  
  

​

 

[hazecloud]

The night had dragged on forever, it felt. While the island bathed in moonlight silk and chatter began to ebb away as midnight approached, Hazecloud was counting down by the minute when her Clanmates would return. It was impossible for her to sleep or even think to close her eyes for more than a blink, knowing Shellkit was out there. Knowing it was Smokestar's sister, the very queen that abandoned her and the boys, right at their border.

Then for the molly to have the audacity, the gall to swipe her greedy paws in her nursery. Her nursery, at her kittens. Hazecloud has never liked the taste of battle-spilled blood but on this night it was righteous. It was just.

"It's safe for you all to come out. But its bedtime right after, no more staying up late." Her first few glances around their faces told her the fight went... decent. Smokestar's grumbling is hard to hear but- they won. That must mean...

"Shellkit!" Paws typically so careful to carry her stumble over themselves as she rushed to the she-kits side, wrapping herself around lilac ribboned fur from nose to tail. Shellkit is practically engulfed in Hazecloud's embrace, pulling her as close to her chest as physically possible. "Thank StarClan you're safe, Snowflakekit made sure my little girl came home." Beaded tears streak down her face but all she could feel is the relief of seeing her again. ​