camp Here Lies The Abyss || raid announcement & prep

[TIGERFROST]

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He returns to camp looking grim, eyes like fire and an expression that is set within frosted stone. Tigerfrost is fueled by the wrath that burns akin to hell-fire throughout his spirit, and it drives his paws onward with purpose. WindClan expected an answer, expected retribution for what RiverClan had done, and now, they would have it. He pauses in the middle of the clearing, a wind buffeting his narrow frame as flaming eyes shift to take in the faces of his clan-mates. They spoke, shared tongues, enjoyed their meals. But many of their words are hushed and pointed. There is a tension thrumming throughout the warm air. Teeth click as Tigerfrost parts his jaws, raises his head and tail to snatch the attention of his clan-mates.

"WindClan." The words are thunderous, spilled into the new-leaf atmosphere with a wintry chill. "Not so long ago, the body of Juniperfrost was returned home to us." He reminds them, though he's certain no cat could forget such a gruesome scene. "Cicadastar harbors a traitor, and a murderer, within his ranks." Bitter, biting words. He goes on, "There will be no negotiation. No compromise." The word is spit from his maw like a poison. WindClan wanted blood as repayment for Hyacinthbreath's crime, and they shall have it.

"What happened to Juniperfrost cannot go unpunished. RiverClan cannot be allowed to believe that they can butcher our loyal Warriors without fear of retribution. So, prepare yourselves. Conserve your energy, rest. Speak with your loved ones, your friends, your apprentices." He lets it sink in, drawing in a breath as stained fangs glint within the shade of the hollow. "Soon, we will march into war with RiverClan. Do what you must to prepare for this raid. There will be no turning back." Tigerfrost speaks with the icy coldness of a glacier.

He cares nothing for the blood that will be shed. He does not pity the RiverClanners who might lose their lives, their friends, their families. No, for all he cared, they could all burn in the fires of WindClan's wrath. They had earned this swift and brutal retaliation. If RiverClan truly thought that they could get away with their crime, then they were in for a rude awakening. He does not even care that there is a name, and a face, to Juniperfrost's killer. Hyacinthbreath. Many might try to argue that she alone is responsible. But Tigerfrost sees through such excuses. Cicadastar harbors her, RiverClan harbors her. They would all suffer for what she has done.

"Show no fear. We are not simply soldiers of WindClan, but we are soldiers of the very stars that shine above our heads. On this night, Juniperfrost and all of WindClan's fallen shall look down upon us with pride. By fighting to bring justice for this senseless killing, you bring honor to us all." A bit of encouragement, perhaps. Something to stir the mind and the spirit, to heat the blood with a passion for victory. Tigerfrost could be so very cold, but in this moment, he hopes that his words ignite a fire within the souls of those who surrounded him.​

 

[Azaleafrost]

Azaleapaw listened to Tigerfrost with her usual stoic expression. She didn't mourn Juniperfrost. She thought he was just another stuck up asshole, and if she had her way, she would actually thank Hyacinthbreath for doing the world a favor.

Even if it was.... incredibly gruesome. She wondered if she would ever do such a thing to someone. Sure, she hated quite a few cats in this clan, but was it enough to do THAT?

It didn't matter. They were about to go to war with Riverclan, and it was the perfect opportunity to show these obnoxious wild born cats just how vicious she was.

Blood didn't matter to her. It all spilled the same.

She was going to make this abundantly clear.

She may not be fully grown, but it doesn't matter to her. There are cats here who are adults and are just a smidge bigger than she was! She would be fine. She would return to camp covered in Riverclan blood, and she would have plenty of witnesses to attest to her prowess.
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[SILVERTHORN]

ALL NIGHT GAMER​

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Oh, now this was some juicy discourse. Silverpaw trailed his way over with a sense of fascination rather than that of grief for the dead clanmate. He didn't really know who Juniperfrost was and he didn't actually care, it was just another dead wildcat. One less headache. Though he also didn't know what RiverClan actually was, except for probably being another group of kittypet-hating ferals. Well, he couldn't go around hurting his clanmates but he could take out his frustrations on someone else, someone who was now the focus of WindClan's fury. He found himself coming to settle near Azaleapaw, though he didn't speak to her.
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[SCORCHSTREAK]

What those bastard river-cats did to Juniperfrost is something awful. Near unrecognizable, head smashed and bloodied, maimed to a degree that speaks of glee. Scorchstreak remembers Hyacinthbreath, the turncoat, whose own flesh and blood still reside within the camp’s walls. Hyacinthbreath, who must be some kind of monster, to do such a thing to another living, breathing (well, no longer) cat. She must pay. But RiverClan shelters her, sides with her, and that cannot be. They must be punished.

There must be retribution.

Tigerfrost is the bearer of the greatest news that she has heard since Juniperfrost’s untimely death. WindClan will be delivering punishment. She turns blazing eyes upon the tom who announces their next move in this war—a grin splits her face, sharp as thorns. "Finally."

She couldn’t care much less for the promise of being watched over by their dead, couldn’t care less for Juniperfrost or for honor. The promise of battle is what stirs her spirit more than anything. It has hardly been a month since she sent Dappledsun to the abyss, but she aches to sink her claws and teeth into flesh once again. And oh, she cannot wait to get blood on her fur. She will wear it like a cloak of the finest feathers, a crown upon her head. A blessing—a gift, the blood of her enemies.
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[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]​

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[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw stalks beside Tigerfrost, the tabby's eyes frosty and his muscles tense. Hatred sews his jaws shut. His fellow lead warrior speaks well -- of WindClan marching into battle beside StarClan themselves to avenge their fallen Clanmate. "Show no fear." He can see two of the apprentices' postures straightening, both of kittypet heritage -- but tonight, they are all WindClanners, as long as they fought fiercely and nobly.

He gives Scorchstreak a curt nod, his tattered ear twitching with muscle memory of claws shredding through the flesh like moss, like spidersilk. "RiverClan has no honor. They take in traitors from every Clan and let them steal prey and massacre warriors on their own territory." He spits angrily. "Do not forget it was Hyacinthbreath who spoke loudest against me for fighting Smokethroat. She is loyal to no leader, to no cat. She only wants blood and to tear Clans and families apart." He thinks of Spiderbloom and lashes his tail. "We'll show them what a real warrior looks like tonight."​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[sparkspirit]

His limbs feel shaky, but his heart is steady. He had not liked Juniperfrost, but it was never his job to do so. The warrior was cold and harsh, but respected. Strong. A WindClan warrior, one of the best, and he was gone now. This is everything that Weaselclaw had been training him for, was it not? And today– today he is going to make good on his promise that he was nothing like his dad. Nothing like the ones in his family who had turned tail on them, who gave up and left. He was going to prove that one day he would be just as worthy as Juniperfrost by helping avenge him here and now. That was WindClan after all, wasn't it? At the end of the day, they stuck by one another. No matter what went on in camp, their arguments or irritations, they were...family. A good family. A better family.

Nobody was going to tear this one away from him.

Stiff and straight, with a serious fix to his expression, Sparkpaw waits for the lead warriors to be finished before he approaches his mentor, respectful yet incautious. "Have I done well enough in my training to go?" If the kittypets are allowed, surely he would be too. A born WindClanner, and Weaselclaw's apprentice nonetheless. But still he worries; he can feel the traitor's blood in his veins, feel the way that it stains him. I'm not like Hyacinthbreath, he tries to swear, again and again.

˗ˏˋ  †〚  OOC REFERENCE INFORMATION 〛

• ooc: —
• 
• sparkpaw, sparky. dmab male, he - him - his.
  ──── apprentice of windclan. loyal to windclan and his family.
  ──── 04 moons old. born on 12.15.22, and ages in real time.
  ──── echolight x elmbreeze, adopted by yewberry. brightfam.
• "speech"

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[Mintshade]

"Ah finally, a good old fashioned fight! Now that's how I like to solve my problems, eh heh heh!" Honestly, it took them too long to come to this decision, she had not been present when Juniperfrost's battered corpse was dragged to the outside of the camp but she surely would've been howling for blood the moment RiverClan scent struck her nose. Mintshade had no care or concern for politics of 'looking good in front of other clans' or whatever nonsense her sister had to consider with every action. No, she was simply a cat who knew that you paid blood for blood and sometimes you collected interest for it along the way.
"Ready, brat? I hope you don't think we'll be skipping this fun." The dark molly glanced down to Azaleapaw as she stopped to stand alongside her, white grin curled and wide from ear to ear as she thought about the events to come. A good day, really, not that she had much love for Juniperfrost but any chance to stick a claw into a traitor's flesh was well enough for her. Besides, Spiderbloom was having his kits; his lost number would be replaced proper in no time and they'd grow up knowing how cruel the world is and would be less hesitant to unsheath their claws as so many cats in this clan once had been.
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[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit stands tucked just inside the nursery when Tigerfrost commands silence and attention. The announcement that tumbles from his tongue is not exactly for her - not now, anyways - but she listens regardless. RiverClan must pay for taking Juniperfrost away from them. That concept is easy enough for a one-moon-old to grasp, and the nearly three-moon-old wishes heartily that she had been made an apprentice in time for this (though the ceremony itself is still several days off, she's been told, and it's hardly likely that Sootstar would send her untrained kittens onto a battlefield.)

Regardless, she listens, and watches too. Weaselclaw is easily among the few that'll go and fight, his apprentice approaching him with a hopeful glint in his eyes. Mintshade chatters along with her apprentice, too. Cottonkit wonders if the quickening in her chest is a spot of fear for her family - will they return as Juniperfrost did? As hapless and useless sacks of fur and flesh? Will she have to wish them luck hunting in the stars, too...? She doesn't like that idea and she quickly shakes it from her head. Weaselclaw and Mintshade are strong WindClanners. Stronger than the rest, even! They'll return with hardly a scar, she bets.

"You all best take baths on your way back...!" she calls out, though she pays no mind to if anyone truly listens to her. She just wants to say that she spoke, that she participated, even when subtle fear creeps its way back up her spine. "I don't want to smell fish in our camp," she finishes her thoughts with her tongue stuck out, making a face.​

 

[LAMBCURL.]

Oh, that voice lures him closer than any prey or predator could ever hope to. Sonorous – grim-soaked through. His call summons heads from all across camp; projects in a way not just anyone could. The authority of a lead warrior is carried with him. Now, Juniperfrost is morned through word rather than cries; and soon it seems, actions, rather than words. Every piece has been said, Lambcurl may only assume. What the whispers truly carried would never be business of his own, but when offered, kind, to his own ears, he listens with bug-eyed rapture.

Lambcurl shutters with the feeling of it all. All-consuming anger he would never quite achieve, never quite feel. He is a selfless wraith, after all. Anything he felt was not his own, but adopted from others. Punishment promised, and who better the dealer? With shining eyes, he watches; goosebumps beneath his fur. The energy is palpable, and Lambcurl is still.

Show no fear. Motto to live by... He blusters a dreamy sigh.​

 

[Bluepool]

Bluepools claws scrape against the sand in their hollow, letting the small rocks get lodged in between her toes, it feels good to let it grate at her paw pads if only for a moment. It’s grounding, bringing her to the present and keeping her mind focused on the task that would soon be at hand. Making RiverClan wish they hadn’t messed with them.

She curls her claws now, quickly and a few times in succession, images racing through her mind of throwing herself over the river at an enemy warrior before pale yellow eyes find her sister, Mintshade. She smiles at the pitch dark Molly as she approaches. "Those fish-brains won’t know what hit ‘em she admonishes. Secretly she wishes she had an apprentice who she could take into battle with her, a cat she could pass her fighting skills down to but alas, that would come in due time she is sure.

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[GRAVELSNAP]

Juniperfrost may have been rude, callous, cold—but he did not deserve to die for it. He was loyal and strong and a role model for a good WindClan warrior, and Gravelpaw had once thought him unkillable. Like Sunstride and Tigerfrost and Lynxtooth, all invincible soldiers of the clan, defenders. But their uncle is gone now, bloody and bashed and beaten, a husk with no more strength left in him.

It’s sickening. RiverClan won’t get away with it.

Trembling with rage, Gravelpaw glares up at Tigerfrost with narrowed eyes. Grateful for the announcement that WindClan will not roll over and take such a dishonor lying down. They can’t wait to get their revenge on those fish-breaths.
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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