wc rebels HOME FREE // refugees

[cottonsprig]

"... We're almost there," Cottonfang breathes, though she's unsure if it's to break the silence or to offer the apprentice beside her some hope. After escaping the tunnels, she had guided the two of them towards highstones first - though the territory was no longer neutral, the (former, now,) medicine cat hoped that the scent lines would confuse some of the hunting WindClanners. Pieces of her almost wish to stop in, to ask StarClan why they've abandoned them like Sootstar said. And then more bits wonder if that's just been a lie all this time, and that the stars have still been watching regardless of what the WindClanners think.

In any case, once they hit the highstones, Cottonfang had taken them backwards, almost the way they came if not for the slight shift in trajectory. She allots no breaks for herself or Downypaw, perhaps regrettably given how young and small the kitten is, so by the time she sees the barn and smells the overwhelming scents of dozens of cats - well, she imagines the point tunneler may be on the brink of exhaustion.

She touches her nose to the tip of the girl's ear, offering a smile that struggles to reach her eyes. Her cheeks are wet with the tears she's wept along the way - it was a damned hope that Bluefrost would join her, but it breaks her heart nonetheless. At least she's reuniting some other family.

"When we get there, you can go first. Bring those herbs with you - they'll need them, maybe," she speaks as they approach the broad, wide open doorway of the barn. It's unspoken, how Cottonfang believes they will be received. Downypaw is nothing more than a kitten roped into the wrong crowd by their mentor; surely her loving family will bring her in with open arms, simply grateful they're alive. Her, however... she's an adult now. She's Sootstar's daughter, fully capable of making her own decisions. And maybe she made this one too late.

She sits a safe distance from the barn doors, motioning with her tail, "Go on," Cottonfang hums. Her paw flexes, her sister's blood still coating each claw, "Call to your mother - she'll be thrilled to know you're okay." And Sootstar would be thrilled to think Cottonfang dead.

[ pls wait for @downypaw <3 ]​

 

[downyfur]

Downypaw stumbles after Cottonfang in a daze. Their limbs are on fire. Her mouth has filled with saliva and dried down to bone again. Her bottommost rib seems to have dislocated and slid beneath its predecessor, grinding together with each step she takes. She is not just exhausted—exhaustion has claimed her in triplicate: body, mind, and soul. Even Sootspot was not so cruel as to force little legs to traverse more than one length of WindClan territory, much less sprint it in their dire hast.

The only thing keeping their paws moving is the other option. Not just death, but death by the mob, whatever patrol had been sent after them. Cottonfang and Downypaw would be torn limb from limb, pelt to bone, by former clanmates turned to slavering hounds with betrayal. They think of what they had done to Smokethroat. To Larkfeather, to Lilacstem. They have seen that love is just passion, and passion is rage. She doesn't know if she truly believes this is what the cats she had slept next to for the past moon would do, but it's what she must believe.

Their legs almost give out when the ruddy roof of the barn crests into view, but a soft touch to the ear startles them out of it. Cottonfang had been crying, and still she spares a smile, just for her. Bluefrost had been her sister. Still was her sister, if there existed a future for them as sisters after this. If Pinkpaw or Finchpaw or Heathpaw had done this to them, if they had abandoned them with such grace, they would have just collapsed. Maybe they would have just given up and let the dogs tear them apart.

The medicine cat's (is she still a medicine cat, now that they were reuniting with Wolfsong?) voice is ragged when she speaks again. Cottonfang sits down, and Downypaw glances between her and the barn. Then back again. "What...what about you?" they whisper around the numbness of the herbs. Their voice is hoarser than hers. She's done so much, and they've done nothing, and now she's just...sitting here. They're at the finish line, they're so close, so why...?

They shake their head, volume rising, petulant all of a sudden. "I—no." Moorblossom had fled with everyone—Cottonfang is their medicine cat—there was no question about whether they would welcome her with raised tails, none existing at all in their head. Wide blue eyes stare at her for another moment, guileless and pleading, before turning reluctantly towards the barn. Their paws stay where they are, next to her.

"H-hello?" A warble; they must coax it into the homecoming bells they feel they deserve. That Cottonfang deserves, for orchestrating it. "Hello? Mama?" It's an embarrassing moniker they've sworn off calling her since they were made an apprentice, but it slips right off their tongue now. "Mama! Heavy Snow!" All of a sudden, she's desperate to be seen. Their limbs have turned to jelly; they tremble with the effort that has not been wasted after all. Their bottom lip feels fat and quavery, and they're too afraid to say anything more lest they just dissolve into tears.​

 

[Mouseflight]

Mouseflight had been giving up hope on anyone else joining them from WindClan those that would he assumed were already dead, killed by the mindless mob that surrounded Sootstar and listened to her word like gospel. So it came as a surprise when the former tunneler heard faint but familiar voices and with hesitation he poked his head from the barn door to look around, to hope that there was no trap here waiting for those who had broken from WindClan. Eyes land upon Downypaw sitting there wailing and Mouseflight exit the barn the rest of the way, tail-tip flicking for a moment before maw opened. "They're both here somewhere, stop that crying you'll scare off whatever food is here." It wasn't a scolding nor what it aggressive, it was tired and his best attempt at a lighthearted greeting - a thing he'd never gotten used to. There were no other cats here that he could smell, they didn't bring a patrol with them as far as he could tell, so what was the issue with saying anything to a crying child?

He looked to Cottonfang and found himself drooping. Tail lay flat on the icy snow-covered ground as large ears flicked back slightly "I thought you'd stay." Was all he could find himself breathing out. He contemplated for just a moment before tail lifted once more and in a slight wave for the two to follow he turned around once more to head back into the barn. "Come on, I'm sure there's more that will be glad to see you two." If anyone were to try to stop them from entering he'd have a few choice words for them. All that mattered was they were here now, cast out from their own clan either willingly or unwillingly, ready to help.

⋆｡°✩ threw my voice into the dark

•  
• 
  ⋆ mousekit - mousepaw - mouseflight
  ⋆ ftm - he/him - 14 moons
  ⋆ bisexual - open to relationship
  ⋆ tunneler of windclan
  ⋆ attack - speech - thought
  ⋆ penned by tikki

​

​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

Downypaw's warbling call cut through the air, and for a moment Rattleheart wondered if he had merely imagined it. A wishful hallucination, conjured out of a desperate desire to see more of Windclan reunited after so much time spent forced apart. It wouldn't have been the first time, the ghostly whispers on the air occasionally sounding so much like Rumblerain that it almost reduced him to tears while tucked away in the safety of his nest. However, when the tunneler noticed the nearby form of Mouseflight shifting to head for the barn door, he realized it hadn't just been his mind playing tricks on him. He practically tripped over his own paws in his haste to follow, pale green gaze wide with shock and joy the moment Downypaw came into view. Looking much worse for wear then when they had left, but still in one piece and on their temporary doorstep. "D... Downypaw, you're here. Oh, thank Starclan, you're here. Brightshine and Heavy Snow will be so relieved." His voice was soft and - hopefully - soothing, stepping forward to touch his nose lightly to their head and assure them that everything would be alright. That her frantic racing hadn't all been a waste, nor were the tears stinging her eyes.

So distracted by Downypaw's small, trembling form, the monochrome feline almost didn't notice the silent, watchful form of Cottonpaw - Cottonfang, unbeknownst to him - sitting in the background. When he did glance up and see her, he couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that followed. Rattleheart wasn't sure whether it was out of sheer surprise or some small amount of fear - anxiety that Downypaw and Cottonfang hadn't really come on their own, and this was all just a trap. A scouting party meant to lead the rest of a loyalist Windclan to the barn where they could all be slaughtered like fish in a barrel. It wasn't an impossibility, but judging by the exhaustion that hung off of both Downypaw and Cottonfang like a tangible sludge, and the blood that decorated the medicine cat's paw... it didn't seem likely. That was enough to make him relax, even if it was only minutely. "Cottonpaw. Are you alright?" She looked shaken, like the entire weight of the world had been dumped on her shoulders and then abruptly scraped off of them once again. And perhaps that was exactly what Sootstar had done to her, no doubt forcing her into the empty space that Wolfsong had left behind.

"I'm glad that you're here. With all of us. It's much better than back there." His words were painfully genuine, although he turned away from both Cottonfang and Downypaw the moment they were out of his muzzle. He moved back towards the barn, pushing his head through the door so that his words could be heard clearly inside. "Sunstride! Wolfsong...? I think you'll want to come out here." As much as he wanted to let Cottonfang in with open arms, without a hint of hesitation or suspicion, that wasn't his choice to make. It was Sunstride's, and he was sure that Cottonfang's former mentor would have some insight on the whole situation as well.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

The sight of Downypaw and Cottonpaw is a shocking one, and the calico's hackles rise as she stalks toward them. "Cottonpaw," she says, ignoring the more welcoming reactions of both Mouseflight and Rattleheart. They all know Cottonpaw, sure—but she had remained behind with Sootstar for so long. She's brought Downypaw here, but who else is with them? What if she's brought Sootstar's hounds straight to the doors of their safe space? A scrutinizing golden gaze spies the blood clinging to the blue-furred apprentice's claws; Scorchstreak's tail lashes irritably.

Downypaw and Cottonpaw both look ragged and tired, but the tunneler cannot simply believe that they are here in good faith—Downypaw is an innocent young apprentice, and their parents will certainly be relieved to hold them close once again. However, Cottonpaw cannot be trusted, not until Sunstride or Wolfsong arrive to pass their judgment on her. Rattleheart calls out to the two toms, and Scorchstreak looks toward the barn, hoping to spot one or both of them approaching. Her fiery glare returns to her once-apprentice within moments, though. "Keep back," she says to Cottonpaw, voice low and flat. There is a warning resting in her tone as she steps forth to stand beside her brother.​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── In the days following their escape from camp and arrival at the Horseplace, very few of Wolfsong's thoughts have crossed his mind without some heavy burden in their shadow. His worry for his daughter's recovery and a potential ambush by Sootstar's dogs have reigned above most others, but so too has he spent the time at Rivepaw's side debating Cottonpaw's fate. It is no easy feat to turn on a mother, even one with as little warmth as Sootstar. And yet— had Wolfsong not been a trustworthy teacher? Had he not tried to comfort her after Weaselclaw's death? Did she not play with his young kits as though they were her siblings?

What were they, if not a kind of family unto their own? It never makes sense when he tries to consider why she would prefer her mother. The other possibilities, those of needing to bide her time until she could slip away safely, have appealed to Wolfsong far more than believing Cottonpaw could turn her back on them for Sootstar's cruelty. All these weeks, he has had no answer, and the more days that pass without her face appearing, the more Wolfsong worries he may have misread their relationship.

He has had so much time to doubt that when she does at last arrive with Downypaw, visibly fatigued and soul-weary, he is torn. She waits at a distance, as though she knew to expect a reception like Scorchstreak's, heavy with suspicion.

Wolfsong draws in a breath of brisk, bitter air and crosses the snow between them. Blood coats her claws. He tastes it on his tongue before he sees it. "My apprentice," he rasps, and he sits, suddenly bone-worn himself. He holds her gaze firmly, though not entirely without warmth. "Tell me once, and tell me true and I shall believe you, and I will not ask it of you again: whose medicine cat are you?"
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 41 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

Though there is nothing but his tired paw pads to mar the snow, he feels as if he tracks blood behind him. A long tale such as this could not be followed in anything but blood. The fables and fates that he had chased in his youth were violent things. Even when they were filled with trickery and guile, life would end in violence. This world would be consumed and born again time over. None of this would remain seasons from now. Once, Sunstride had hoped his name to be among those remembered for all of time. A great leader and warrior with praises and song. His story carved to rock or written in the very sunshine that glimmered upon their home. He wanted to be everlasting. Now he is terribly aware of morality. Of Sootstar's. Of himself. There would be no permanency — stars above, he does not want there to be. To be remembered forever is to remember those that came before him.

And what came before him is not a thing of beauty.

Expression weighted and dour, with severe glacial eyes, he comes to stand at Wolfsong's side. His mate may lower with exhaustion. That is well, for Sunstride himself will not follow. He stands alert at the medicine cat's side, each breath a dragon's slow puff of smoke. Prepared to breathe fire, should it be needed. "Mouseflight," he cautious lowly. They would not welcome her so easily. They could not– not when she had remained for so long, taking his mate's den, trying to fill the wheaten tom's strides in a way that none ever could. He can smell the herbs. The blood. Wolfsong had already asked her all that mattered. It is a question that tugs his curiosity– who would she name, if not Sootstar? StarClan? Wolfsong? He will listen and wait, as the others must.

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

​

 

[HEAVY SNOW]

There is a commotion at the entrance to the barn. Heavy Snow looks up with mismatched eyes and, at first, he is content to stay back, to allow the others to take care of whatever was going on if it was not an attack. But then a familiar voice calls out. His name. His kit. He's on his feet in an instant, using his body to push others aside so he can get to her, so he can fold her into his embrace and never let her go. "Downypaw!" he cries out, his voice cracking in pure relief as he finally spots that familiar smoky pelt, the very same that he had been afraid he would never see again, or that if he had it would be on the battlefield. There was no world that he would ever raise a claw against one of his kits though, not unless it was in defense of Brightshine or any of his other children. Even then, he is uncertain if he could ever bring himself to harm them.

He ignores any cat who warns him to stay back, ignores anyone who tries to stop him. In mere moments that feel entirely too long he is at their side. "I'm so happy to see you, Brightshine will be so happy to see you" alive, well. He leans forward and with one paw, he hooks Downypaw and pulls them closer, pressing his nose to the top of their head so that they do not see the tears that threaten to spill out from his eyes. When finally he pulls away, he has regained his composure, but his eyes still shine "You're okay right? You weren't hurt?" he did not smell blood on her, could not see any visible injuries, but it would not hurt to ask, to make sure. If anyone had laid even a claw on her...

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonfang meets the younger cat's periwinkle gaze almost pleadingly - the child asks about her and for a moment, she wants to reply, What about me? These cats... she's betrayed them. She's healed their enemies, made them stronger yet again in the face of an inevitable battle. Sunstride and Wolfsong and - and all of them can turn her away, and she will have to just... take it. She can gift them herbs and information but it is not her decision on if she can stay with them. It is in another's paws on if she's a WindClanner at all, after this.

But Downypaw takes their stand. Nearly broken, nearly weeping, the little tunneller plants dirt covered paws firmly in beside her and says, "No." She is unwilling to abandon her savior, and it warms Cottonfang's heart, though she hopes that their comradery will not taint the child's standing with the others. They call for their parents, and the labored cries draw out familiar faces. Mouseflight, Rattleheart - Heavysnow, Scorchstreak. Her chest, pained and warmed, hurts again, but she does not buckle.

Mouseflight greets her with a simple, "I thought you'd stay," and it hurts to admit - but if anything were different, she likely would've. She presses her lips together as he suggests her to follow him into the barn. Rattleheart, too, is kind. Cottonpaw, he calls her. Cottonpaw, her sister reiterates, gruffer, angrier. She opens her mouth, almost to correct them, but Scorchstreak's look kills the voice in her throat. It's not violent, but it is protective. And Cottonfang cannot be upset with that.

Downypaw is accepted, just as planned. Heavy Snow collects his daughter, tears pricking his eyes, and Cottonfang tries to motion the point to join her family in the barn's safety. "Go," she whispers. "Please, Downypaw," she continues, and she feels her cheeks wet again. She prepared herself for this moment yet living in its gravity still hurts far too much.

Sunstride and Wolfsong reveal their fiery pelts, finally. Cottonfang looks up at them, as if she is no better than a mouse beneath a cougar's paws. They each glow beneath the moonlight, the glinting snow highlighting fearsome details. Sunstride recalls his warriors - Mouseflight, specifically - and she affords her friend a pitiful, understanding smile.

Wolfsong speaks, finally. My apprentice, he says, and she almost folds then and there. In the moons of not having her father, the golden-yellow tom had filled the spot for her - guided her, helped her. And she damn near abandoned him. "I'm sorry," dies on her tongue and she tries to hold his gaze just as evenly. He asks her a question, and for a moment, she's unsure how to answer. Her hesitation breathes fragility into the air, however before long, she tries.

"... Cottonfang," she starts, and her mouth opens to continue but another beat of uncertainty falls onto her tongue. A breath, "Sootstar named me her medicine cat. Cottonfang. But - Wolfsong, Sunstride - I do not belong under her rule. My paws are inept and my skills are weak but all that I know does not belong to her. I wish to be with WindClan once again, as Cottonfang, as Cottonpaw, as... however you will have me. Your medicine cat, your apprentice," though her gaze has flipped between the two during her short lived speech, it lands upon Wolfsong once again, "Is what I am and what I hope to be, continuously."

Again, her maw hangs open. Her gaze falls to the wayside and she licks down a stray fur clump on her shoulder. Another breath and she looks back to Sunstride, "Regardless - regardless - of if you'll have me once more, the herbs are yours, and Downypaw is free to you. I wish I could have brought more, however unfortunately I could not alert too many to my -" half baked, admittedly, "- plan. Sootstar and those in her camp are weak - prey does not run well on the moors this leafbare. Some are as thin as those rogues moons ago." Another beat, and she regrettably adds, "A cat did find myself and Downypaw leaving, however. We had already sunk into the tunnels and caused a diversion - ran to the highstones and back, even - but Sootstar... she will not let up this time. They will be here soon enough. I'm - I'm sorry, really," she hates adding it like this, but she cannot allow them to go without the knowledge. "I will stay to fight should they arrive anytime soon, and leave thusly after. Wherever you need me, Sunstride - I'll be there."​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── The silence between them is a lifetime, one Wolfsong spends studying her face and warring with himself. Perhaps this is a beguiling ruse after all, one thought fears. She is afraid, insists another, just afraid. Fear casts suspicious shadows. Their breaths mist in the air and he should find comfort in his mate's steady presence, upright where Wolfsong is not, but in this longest, briefest of pauses, he is forced to confront whether he is truly capable of standing against his apprentice. If he could harm her, should the worst comes to pass. He is ruled by sentiment and weaker for it, exploitable.

And then, bafflingly, she calls herself Cottonfang. He blinks, taken aback, and she does not immediately dispel the dread that has sunk its claws into his belly. It is not until she finishes explaining what Sootstar has done that she moves to refute it, and he drags in an audibly heavy breath, a taut line snapping in his shoulders and allowing them to relax. "You are not weak," he says, lightly scolding. "You have shown bravery defying your mother, and a commitment to WindClan. StarClan gave me your sign for good reason." But the relief that warmed him slips away, and he is cold again.

He turns to Sunstride, jaw clenched. "Then we must prepare. It is not ideal that the decision of battle is made for us, but if they are weak and forced to trek here, we have the advantage." Again, he looks to Cottonpaw. His smile, though small and strained, is genuine. "We will face what comes together, and it will be easier knowing you are with us."
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 41 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

Explanations are given, and Wolfsong, it seems, is won over. Scorchstreak's suspicious glare does not leave Cottonpaw—or Cottonfang, the vile name that her vile mother has given her—even as Wolfsong agrees to hear her out. The calico does not stand down even as the tension abates, her form still standing tense and coiled as she listens to Cottonfang explain her side of things. The younger she-cat pledges herself to Sunstride and Wolfsong, passing on a warning that Sootstar and her ever-loyal warriors are likely on their way now.

Her scarred brow quirks as she's proven correct; so Cottonfang has led their enemies directly to them, and brings a promised violence in her wake. But… she has delivered Downypaw back to their parents, to their clan, and she has brought much-needed herbs with her as well. Whether or not she's intentionally brought Sootstar directly to their nests, Scorchstreak cannot decide. But it is not her decision, and so she keeps her mouth shut. She hasn't known what to think of Cottonfang for months now; she will not make this choice for the clan. "Sunstride?" She asks, golden eyes shifting to the tom who she trusts to lead them to safety. What shall we do? They need to prepare for a fight, obviously, but what should they do with Cottonfang? Will she fight against her mother's forces, as she claims that she will?​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

He listens to her explanation with the same inscrutable coldness. As flat as newly fallen snow. She tells her tale of Sootstar's name, and her place here– that WindClan is coming for them quickly, and there is nothing that they could do about it. He has known that they would need a battle. He had hoped that it would be on his own terms. To see those leaving her behind now...it is a sign of the rebels' strength, surely. Whatever their reasons had been, they saw strength in them now. He would celebrate this when things were not so dire. However quickly he may race past his youth, the allure of a story has never escaped him. The promise of being something of legend. Worthy of outlasting Sootstar. All of them were. All of them could be. Many moons from now they will be a tale passed to WindClan's kittens.

Today, they are stuck in the dreary present.

"It is not my place to speak on StarClan's will," he says slowly, answering Scorchstreak's question with his eyes upon Heavy Snow. The familial embrace is a good distraction. Without Sootstar's daughter, perhaps it would not have come to pass. "Wolfsong has spoken. She will remain, as long as her words are true." His mate is far kinder than he, yet Sunstride cannot forget the past. Even with the loss of his eye he had seen more than Sunstride ever would. The future seemed housed in the dead space where his vision had been. Scorchstreak trusts him, and he will trust his medicine cat. "Once this is over..." As much as he does not feel he belongs with thoughts of such, the burnished tom turns his tired gaze skyward. "Perhaps they will share their wisdom with us again, and we will know what name to give you." When his gaze sweeps down again, it lands firmly upon her. "You will not be alone until this is over," he cautions. "Do not leave Wolfsong's gaze. Or another warrior's." To Scorchstreak, then, he nods assent and guidance both.

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

​

 

[HOUNDTHISTLE]

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​

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[

A touching reunion, a harrowing warning, so little time, so much to ponder. The promise of violence, though, sends a shiver down Houndthistle's spine, the innate call to spill blood upon snow like a siren's call, beckoning him to race out to meet the ashen tyrant where she marches on his clan. He lumbers forward, gaze pondering upon Cottonpaw-no name given during the Mad Queen's end of reign, especially a name as unfitting as that for such a cat who'd risk life and limb to get a kitten to its family, would be respected by him. Cottonpaw deserved better than that-before sweeping to Scorchstreak. A battle to prepare for, and a fight to win. He gave a shake of his pelt, the thick spiky tufts furrowing out to brace against a chill he already could sense. "I s'pose we should get y'all some food," He voices aloud, glancing to the touching scene of Heavy Snow and Downypaw, a small twinge of sympathy in his stoned heart making an ear flick. Turning to Sunstride and Wolfsong, he glances at the pair of his friends, his voice dropping for only them and Scorchstreak to hear, "We oughta try an' fin' an exit for the injured an' young." He didn't want to keep running, but he knew as good as they that even if Sootstar's band of zealots were basically on death's doorstep, all it'd take is a change of tide. And with so many young cats, cats who have stumbled in on death's door to flee her voracious greed, he'd hate to have what's left of Windclan slaughtered like she wished.

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"speech"

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OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES

• text
• Physical Health
  
  100%
  ⤷ left eye is blinded
  Mental Health
  
  98%
• Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in Wolfsong, Scorchstreak, Sootspritespark
  
  Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.
  
  — will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy
  — excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
  — poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
  — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
  — smells of iron, leather, and wood
  — speech is #435E75

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[PINKSHINE]

Pinkpaw knows the voice. Of course she did because it was the voice of her sister. Her sister that she used to sleep beside and play with every day. Every day until they lost her. Pinkpaw bolts beside her father, eyes like bright suns when she sees them. " Downypaw! " And suddenly her eyes are all gross and wet. She hadn't worried about Downypaw— she hadn't worried because that would be miserable and sad, but now that she's here, she thinks: they could've died, right? They might not've come back, right?

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all cause they're here now. There was no reason for Pinkpaw to ever worry, because here they were. Once Heavy Snow gets his hug, Pinkpaw gets hers, throwing herself at her sibling with a sniffly nose. " Downypaw, Imissedyousomuch! Are you mad at me? " she blurts the question that's been on her mind for awhile. She doesn't remember what she did, but she remembers Downypaw looking like the saddest cat in the world and then she was gone so soon!

There's tension around her that she doesn't super understand. Cottonpaw, to the side. Scorchstreak still and stern somewhere behind her, but this was no lesson, so why was she? The two medicine cats talk amongst themselves, and Pinkpaw is too busy being happy; happy that her sister is here. " Downypaw, we have a secret sister! And a secret aunty! And there are— there are other weird cats... " she pants for breath, and her head turns to scene playing out elsewhere. She sees Sunstride and Wolfsong; her eyes linger on her mentor, and she wonders what's happened. She looks to Houndthistle, and he talks about leaving. They're all talking about something. Something bad happening. Pinkpaw turns wide eyes upon the warrior, and then to Scorchstreak; to Sunstride. " I wanna help... " she says, even if her paws are super duper cold and her nose is snuffly...

She blinks at Cottonpaw. Cotton...fang? " Thank you for bringin' Downypaw... " she mews. She was gonna show downypaw everything.

staring at the mirror gotta smile, smile 🌸🌷🦄🦩 don't be late, we got plans!

• 

• NOTE: SHE IS A FEVER COAT BABY!!
  

  

• ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
  —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  —— CURRENTLY 5 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH
  
  A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with suburst eyes ringed blue around her pupils (central heterochromia). While you can clearly see her flame markings on her face, the rest of her body is currently covered by a grey fever - coating. Though the whites of her are still very much visible. Pinkpaw bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
  

  HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pinkpaw is a very irrational and childish character!​

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