sensitive topics I DON'T LOVE YOU [☾] I JUST LOVE THE BOMB

[SCORCHSTREAK]

It happens too quickly for Scorchstreak to say anything, do anything—not that she’s planning on sticking her neck out in some poor defense of Sunstride. Anything that she says in favor of him will be taken as disloyalty. Granitepelt has already doomed the amber-hued deputy, and Sootstar has already made her decision. The she-cat strikes out at Sunstride, and the larger tom strikes back. Then Sootstar shouts, bloodstained words already spilling from her maw, and everything descends into chaos. Clanmates lunge for one another’s throats, intent to rip each other to shreds. Those loyal to Sootstar fight alongside her, and those who have grown tired of the mad queen’s rule stand their ground all the same.

A cold, curdling feeling of dread coils in her gut as she looks around. She can’t find Rattleheart amidst the chaos, nor can she spot Rabbitclaw, or any of her kits. She can’t even see Cottonpaw anywhere within the battling cats. She sees Bluepool, a whirlwind of fury, raining down blows upon her enemy—her clanmate—but she knows that the other lead warrior can handle herself in a fight. Bluepool is strong, she won’t die here. But before Scorchstreak can turn to search for her family once again, she hears a familiar cry. "Pinkpaw!" Stars, how could she have lost track of her own apprentice in this mess? Golden eyes wide with rage and panic dart around wildly, searching for the troublesome calico between all of the clashing WindClanners.

There. She spots the apprentice huddling beside her mother, who now bristles at Sunstride’s flank. Dark paws carry her swiftly to stand beside them as well, and she calls out to the other calico warrior, "Where are the rest of your kits?" Her eyes narrow as she continues to scan the battle before them. Her own kits can handle themselves in battle, even if they shouldn’t have to, but Brightshine’s own are younger, hardly even apprentices yet. And Heathpaw… would she notice an enemy coming? Scorchatreak can only hope that her sister is keeping an eye on the snow-white apprentice.

She does not consider the traitorous act she is taking, in standing with the deputy. She had made her choice long ago, perhaps even when she had decided to go on the journey. WindClan, as it is now, is not her home any longer. So long as they are under the claws of Sootstar, her warriors, these cats will never be her clanmates. She will die before she pledges her loyalty to this madness even a day longer. She can only pray that her kin will flee, if she is to fall here.

// open to attacks, battle notes are here — talking to @PINKPAW and @BRIGHTSHINE!​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

​

 

[NIGHTMAREFACE]

Her target begins to thrash and buck beneath her, and she hangs on as long as she can before ultimately the force is enough to throw the smaller she-cat off. She hits the dark ground hard enough for the wind to be knocked out of her, drawing a few heavy gasps from her chest. But she isn't done. Mismatched eyes glare back at Slatetooth, a hiss on her tongue before he hits her square in the face. She is more prepared next time, dodging and slinking around his sloppy swipes. "Honor is what inferior cats choose to call their weakness," She snarls back at him, coiling like a snake before she leaps.

Nightmareface aims to bring him to the ground and pin him. With spittle flying from her open maw, she will try to snap her teeth onto any part of him she can, seeking to tear, rip, chomp. Property. She knows she isn't property. Sootstar values her, and her loyalty will be rewarded. "How does it feel to throw everything away?" She laughs back at him between snaps. "All for a coward who steals kits in the night?"

// fighting @slatetooth​

 

[HEAVY SNOW]

Heavy Snow had done his best for his family. He had kept his head down, he had kept quiet even when there were things he did not agree with. The stealing of kits, the claiming of high stones, Sootstar's blatant spial into madness. He had not said a word. For his family, always for his family. For them, he would do just about anything. When chaos errupts the first thing his mismatched eyes scan desperately for is Brightshine and he is quick to find her. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Pinkpaw safely at her side. They still had three other kits whos presneces were not accounted for but for now the knowledge that even one of them was okay was enough.

He wants to run to them, to press his nose to their heads and tell them everything will be okay, but his mate is standing her ground, teeth bared and claws at the ready and he decides that now is not the time. Scorchstreak he can hear is asking where the rest of their kits are and to her he speaks "I'll find them, will you help me?" he asks, determination and desperation heavy in his words. Downypaw Finchpaw and Heathpaw, they would all be okay if only he could just get to them and shepherd them away to safety.

He turns and he lunges into the fray, eyes scanning the battleground for his children.

// Heavy is a Sunstride supporter and open for attacks!
Speaking to @SCORCHSTREAK looking for @HEATHPAW @downypaw and @FINCHPAW!

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Sunstride is the traitor. This is reminiscent, she thinks, of Badgermoon’s betrayal, but it is far worse. Sunstride stands before her mother and spits at her paws, denouncing her as WindClan’s founder, as their one true leader, and she orders them all to tear him to shreds. Bluefrost’s pelt begins to bristle at her mother’s command, but she hesitates before leaping into the fray. Claws begin to score into the chest and face of a cat she has known since her birth—of a cat she has felt loyalty to since her birth. Bluepool rises, and instead of following Sootstar’s command, she—she attacks her Clanmates. Mouseflight, Slatetooth—they all disobey orders.

“Are you all mad! Your leader has commanded you to—” She breaks off, searching for Gravelsnap, for Thriftfeather. Where are they—and what will they choose, in this moment of madness caused by ShadowClan kits of all things?

She thinks she can feel her mother’s eyes on her. Slowly, somnambulantly, Bluefrost finds herself squaring off with Scorchstreak—a cat she has known, too, since her first days in this moor. Scorchstreak flanks Brightshine, who has chosen disloyalty—has chosen Sunstride. It’s decided, then. She unsheathes her claws, draws her lips back in a hiss, and aims a swipe toward the lead warrior’s shoulder.

[ attacking @SCORCHSTREAK ; minor powerplay like shoving/scratching/biting allowed but ask for perms before maiming ]

, ”​

​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

Heavy Snow responds to her question without confirmation, but asks her for help in finding them. Her heart stutters harshly as he speaks, thudding against her ribs—her own kits are missing, and at least three of Brightshine and Heavy Snow's kits are nowhere to be found. This doesn't bode well for them, especially as more cats are dragged into the fighting. She turns to look at the tom, nodding her confirmation. "Yes," she agrees quickly, already searching across the battlefield for the apprentices. It's likely that they are hiding somewhere, or darting around in search of their parents just as Heavy Snow looks out for them. But before Scorchstreak can move from her position to truly look for them, a blue and white figure rushes her.

Betrayal gleams in her eyes, face twisting into a snarl as she faces down the younger tunneler. Bluefrost—she'd watched the girl grow up, watched her grow into a competent young warrior. She'd grown to care for Bluefrost just as she cares for the rest of the clan's tunnelers. But of course, Bluefrost would follow her mother, even when Sootstar will lead her nowhere. StarClan made their position clear months ago. Sootstar has shown her abandonment of StarClan in many ways since then. There is no future for Bluefrost, not in WindClan. Not with Sootstar.

But the calico knows better than to waste words where claws will be more efficient. There is no point in attempting to convince Bluefrost of anything—she has chosen her side, and the fresh drooling wounds across Scorchstreak's shoulder are proof of it. And just as any other opponent, she must die, or at least bleed, for her mistake. Scorchstreak ducks low, coiling her legs beneath her before launching herself at the blue-furred warrior. She aims to drag her claws across Bluefrost's face, but the strike is uncoordinated, tugging uncomfortably at her injured shoulder. She'll have to shift when she attacks next, but she has no doubts about her odds. She is—was—a lead warrior of WindClan, a cat who fought Cicadastar and survived. She will not lose to a cat who only days ago was an apprentice.

// fighting @BLUEFROST ​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

​

 

[REDHEART]

Redpaw had been busy with clearing out his old nest when the shouts began. Instinctively, he had dropped the soiled nests and rushed back into the clearing of camp. Their heart raced as he fell upon the tense scene. Sootstar's raging words twisting like branches and Sunstride's heartfelt cries constricted his heart like no other. At the drop of a nettle, Sootstar's order to kill bellowed out. The paw's jaw fell open as panic strangled him. No. No. NO! Cats seemed to clash from all corners of camp and Redpaw appeared floored. This isn't right! Watching his clanmates rip each other apart made him involuntarily whimper with indecision.

Velvety paws trembled as he stumbled back from the chaos. I don't want this! I can't hurt any of them! Squeezing his eyes closed, the Apprentice huddled into himself near the mouth of the dirt place. Ruddy pelt bristling as his ears flattened to their cranium. You have to do something! Move! MOVE! Cracking open his eyes, the small tom spotted a jagged line of opportunity. Hollowcreek's hulking form loomed over Sunstride. A dangerous glint in the brute's eyes made his blood run cold. He'll kill Sunstride! Get up and help them! Swallowing his fears, the Apprentice willed their legs to work.

Once the feeling returned, his paws seemed to move on their own. Haphazardly, Redpaw dodged tumbling cats and flashing claws. With the others back facing him the adrenaline surged forward. Leaping, he aimed to latch onto Hollowcreek's back. If landed, he will sink his claws in deep and hang on tight. Trying his best to bite back the emotional pangs roaring within, the smaller feline gritted his teeth

OOC
Attacking @hollowcreek by jumping on his back!
Feel free to intervene and permission is given for light power play, such as scratches, shoves, bruises, and bites. No lethal blows!​

 

[PINKSHINE]

No, Brightshine tells her, and she's relieved. She doesn't wanna kill Sunstride. Sunstride nice and kind, and, well, Sootstar kind of wasn't. If she had to pick one...

Lilacstem tells her mom, just protect your kits. That means her, and Downypaw and Finchpaw and Heathpaw... She's running into the frey then, and then there's red smattering her fur. Pinkpaw shakes her head. This isn't fun at all. Stay close to me, don’t leave my side! Pinkpaw jolts, and then nods. She'd do whatever her mom told her to, but even if she hadn't, Pinkpaw probably would've done that anyways. She does what her mom tells her to, practically on her tail the way she had been with Scorchstreak in the tunnels. They're getting closer to Sunstride now. Were they gonna fight him, after all?

And then Scorchstreak is there, calling for her. " Scorchstreak! " Pinkpaw exclaims. Her smile is long gone, replaced with a wondering, wide - eyed look. " I dunno... I dunno where they are, " she tells her. Heavy Snow does't know either, but— oh, he'll find them, and Scorchstreak will help too. Maybe Scorchstreak really is super cool.

That would make anyone fighting her a bad guy, and Pinkpaw gawks when Bluepaw— frost, is suddenly attacking her. Why? " Bluefrost, stop it! " she shouts. Weren't they friends? She saved her from bad guys before, and now she was a bad guy? Bluepaw needed to snap out of it right now. In a fit of frustration, Pinkpaw would attempt to latch onto Bluefrost's leg, digging in pinprick teeth. She doesn't really know how to fight, but she was so mad at Bluefrost, she had to try a little bit...

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

• ooc: talking to @BRIGHTSHINE! and @SCORCHSTREAK; trying to defend her from @BLUEFROST!!

• 

• ( 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 4 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH
  
  A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with yellow eyes, ringed blue around her pupils (sectoral 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!​

​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

An explosion of sound, a palimpsest of voices. Featherpaw's ice-glare gaze settled in deep horror upon the form of her father, swarmed so suddenly by those who would have told him good morning only moments ago.

The kits had not run away. They were not dead by a hawk, or spilling her home's secrets to anyone who would listen- they had been returned home by Sunstride himself. Featherpaw didn't know what to wake of her father's clear betrayal of Sootstar's trust- had it truly been the right thing to do? To just let them go? But they had been kits, Featherpaw reminded herself. And he was not a kitten anymore. Despite his stature, his youth- he was an apprentice, and they clearly had not been. Kits, merely. Kits who ShadowClan had looked for.

And, whatever was right or wrong, Featherpaw knew what she loved. As the metallic sting of blood slithered into her lungs- as she saw Bluepool spring into action in defence of Sunstride, Featherpaw was already running. Snarling faces slashed at her father, but he was not along, and Featherpaw would never leave his side. Even if it meant leaving WindClan- Featherpaw would not let anyone kill her father.

He had never felt so small- but it aided him as he sped into the fray, weaving between larger bodies. Pinkpaw yelled above the din; of course, of course he could hear her still. Endangering herself, undoubtedly. Sparing only a glance, she saw the blazing pelts of Brightshine and Scorchstreak, right at Pinkpaw's side- Bluefrost's cold fur opposing them. A yellow glare set back forward.

Skidding to a halt, he targeted one of his father's assailants; Hollowcreek. Always mild-seeming, boiling beneath the surface- for his words, Featherpaw wanted to rip his tongue out. He attempted to fasten his jaws around Hollowcreek's back leg and clamp, hard. Filth, she thought bitterly, but stayed silent in the heat of battle. You are the only filth I see.

\ attacking @hollowcreek !​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[rivewhisper]

—————————————————————⊰⋅ ☽ ⋅⊱—————————————————————​

It's chaos within instants.

Her heart was thudding in her ears the moment she watched Sootstar's claws lash out her father. His fangs in her paw, biting the hand that once fed. And she inhaled sharply. The whirlwind of battle broke out after a pins drop silence, and her tail lashed as she slowly retreated against the walls of camp. Blood, insults. Threats, some made and some made good on. It was crazy and nuts.

Pinkpaws shout for her mother. Her own siblings silent fury. So many paws falling towards Sunstride- where was Wolfsong? Rivepaw grit her teeth, tucking her chin down momentarily. She would not stand idly by. Snakehiss was somewhere out there too- but her mentor was battling another cat, and busy. She had no direction, no note of what to do. As if a paw settled on her shoulder, the weight of her decision would carry with her for moons. Owl eyes lifted, blue like the tundra she descended from.

A shout left her as Rivepaw set off running- like that first time Snakehiss took her training. Solid, dependable sprint speed, lungs starting to burn by the end of it. She was not a full-grown warrior, she had not been through the most rigorous of training yet. Yet, Rivepaw was trying. Eyes like tundra ice were set upon a target. Rivepaw wasn't even sure what got into her- was it her grandmother's legacy, perhaps? Was it the fact blood was being shed and it sung in her own veins like it demanded to be put to use? She did not know.

Leaping at @HUMMINGBIRDHEART, she attempted to bite down on the tunneler's back and thrash. She had never done this. She wasn't sure she'd be ever able to do this again. The cards were on the table, and her defenses bared.

// please do not attack! there is a plot in place

"text"
thoughts​

 

[SPARROWBREEZE]

Seasons ago, Sparrowbreeze had been brought here to WindClan's camp under the guise of safety - a place away from the tragedy her kitten-paws had run from, away from fang-struck injuries. The moors were going to protect her, she'd believed, innocence taking the clan she'd be raised in at face value. She'd taken Badgermoon's words as the truth, and later, Sunstride's - such a brave kit, she'd been touted as.

A brave kit, though her words had been careful, her paws too. As if second guessing, as if she'd known the deputies' words were falsehoods as judgmental gazes were set upon the horseplace-born.

Sparrowbreeze hardly feels brave as rising tensions finally break, as the camp crumbles into chaos - a war. WindClan isn't safe, she knows - might've known all along - as Soot-sharp claws strike at Sunstride, as her clanmates show their true colors. A traitor, he's called, for returning Larkkit and Ouzelkit to ShadowClan; for returning them to security: a life they wouldn't have had here in the moors.

WindClan will never be safe with Sootstar around, she realizes amidst the battlefield; amidst the home she'd grown into. With any of her troops around.

Pushing down her fears of what's to come, Sparrowbreeze charges forward, claws unsheathed as she leaps into battle.

// open to attacks! nothing fatal, please!
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[downyfur]

It all happens so fast—Just like the rogues, Downypaw thinks numbly. Except the rogues wear the faces of their clanmates, and this time they are not so sure of their place in the chaos. Once again, the tranquil of camp has been shattered by a whirlwind of bodies. They don't want to kill Sunstride; they would only get in the way of his slaughter if they tried. Unwittingly, they map Bearpaw onto his father's silhouette. Spars are only ever simulations of real battle, but only now does the realization really sink in. Such dread spills across their bones, blooms into their veins, and solidifies like ice. They long for someone to tell them what to do, but they have been told, haven't they?

Their paws are encrusted to the floor. They could lift them if they tried hard enough. Last time she had cowered behind Heavy Snow with the rest of her siblings, sinking kitten fangs into Heathkit's scruff, feeling white fur fill the crevasses of lost milk teeth and wishing she could just beam the desperation directly into her sister's head. Brightshine, Heathpaw, Heavy Snow, Finchpaw. They rattle through their list of kin, as though they're scared they'll forget them in the chaos. Pinkpaw. Downypaw is still mad at her. She desperately searches for her too.

The needs of their family is still not enough to uproot their paws from the ground. Downypaw wants to scream at her own legs. She wants to scream for Sootspot too, she finds, but she knows what he would say. If they do not fight for Sunstride, then they fight for Sootstar. Better to stray from your family and join the fray, than to be inevitably cast out with Sunstride, if he manages to escape, and sentenced to uncertain death. Could they hide? Yes—but their family, they could die if they just ran—but they can't find them anyway, and what could they do to help them anyway—

They watch Featherpaw shoot past them and latch onto Hollowcreek's leg. At first, Downypaw processes it like a movie, like whatever the two did didn't affect them in real life, and they hadn't accidentally watched a sunrise with Featherkit once and Hollowcreek hadn't ever told them about the wonders of snow. Stop it! Screaming at the screen. She hates that she can't say it aloud, hates that it wouldn't do anything even if she did. Featherpaw is ill-tempered, yes, but he's never done anything to them and she couldn't be blamed for fighting for her father's life—and Hollowcreek is so kind and considerate, they remember how he'd looked at them after they'd come home from RiverClan's humiliations, and isn't it only fair that he's following orders?

Downypaw takes a step towards them—Do something!—just as a familiar shape streaks into view. "Sootspot—!"

ooc: please don't interact! she has plans with @SOOTSPOT​

 

[FOGBOUND]

your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A shame. He hummed, watching the scene unfold with narrowed hues, lips peeled back at the beginning of a snarl, yet no sound came out, quiet as he watched. It was only a matter of time. The angry cries of battle rose to the surface. It seemed today was the day everything fell into ruin. How peculiar.

This place ( a home that Fogbound refused to admit ) was being ripped out from underneath them. He had sworn on his life to keep his family safe and yet Sootstar continued to prove it otherwise. It wasn’t surprising, but even if he was insane, Fogbound had the decency to think and then lash out in a pit of thoughtless rage. Or perhaps this was everything she had planned to weed out the rebels. The smokey tom couldn’t help but blister in annoyance, Sootstar’s accusations ringing loudly across the camp, but the moor runner paid no mind except for the thunderous snarl that escaped bared teeth.

“To think you would be so foolish to think it would have worked.” He rumbled, turning to his family closest, ruby hue blazing. “Do not engage.” He hissed, deep and guttural, so unlike the charismatic swig of his words that oozed like honey, but tar. Sootstar threatened that peace. It was a simple decision, standing with Sunstride even if the others found him anything, but distrusting.

He grinned devilishly. It wasn’t if Fogbound willingly put in the effort to play nice. It wasn’t in his nature to be nice, but he wasn’t a monster, no matter how much he craved to sink his claws into tender flesh, watching bodies float down the river with a light-hearted hum. He was a simple-minded fellow, far more chivalrous than most of these foolish creatures, but he couldn’t say the same for the wretched beasts that littered about with their loud cries of loyalty as conflicted emotions danced about like visceral.

He was on his paws before he realized it, bulky muscle quivering in anticipation, whipping about in search of his small apprentice, letting a ruby gaze narrow, not an ounce of his charm displayed, but billowing anger and well-masked fear that swirled pitifully in his stomach like spoiled prey. An odd mix of emotions, Fogbound will admit. Odd to care for something else, but it seemed Rabbitclaw and Mothmoon were added into that pitiful mix despite his best efforts. A pity.

“Finchpaw!” His voice boomed, catching sight of Brightshine and Pinkpaw from afar, letting out a low guttural growl. “Do not engage with anyone, do you understand, my dear?” Upon discovery, Fogbound wasted no time, jerking his helm toward Brightshine. “Stay with her and if you must run, then do so. This is not a time to practice, nor is it a place for little worms.” He rumbled, ruby hue crinkled, pulling at healing flesh. “Do not fret, little worm. This will be over shortly.” Oh, how selfish it was to hope, but dare he say that this fight would not last long, not with the unwavering hunger of Sootstar’s followers and the turbulent emotions expressed so openly across faces.

“Driven out of our home again, how pitiful that will be.” He mused, masking the maelstrom of emotions that danced and scraped against his insides like gusts of wind. “Be smart, my dear.” He called.

The moor runner slithers forward into the fray with a loud rumble, bulky build rippling in anticipation, ruby hues locking on Mocking-Grin with a devilish grin like that of a stalking predator. “A shame that I cannot feel pity for beasts, perhaps this would be more emotional.” He tutted, tail flickering against the fray of fighting cats.

The smokey moor runner wasted no time, muscles springing into action in an attempt to knock the other over with the sudden force to aim a strike down the other’s front.

/ talking with @FINCHPAW! , attempting to attack @MOCKING-GRIN and tagging @Thriftfeather ^^​

​

thought speech​

 

[HUMMINGBIRDHEART]

The traitors, the snakes in the grass, have made themselves known. Another deputy has turned against their rightful queen—and at last, Sootstar has given the orders. Kill him, and anyone who stands with him. Anyone who stands against WindClan, against Sootstar. Surpsisingly, though, many other rats stream in from the woodwork to defend their traitorous leader. The likes of Brightshine and Lilacstem are expected to be traitors, but Mouseflight? Scorchstreak? Her fellow tunnelers, turning against their leader... They truly have all gone mad. Don't they realize that StarClan has forsaken them all? They cannot claw their way back into their ancestors' good graces, even if they think that betraying their clan will give them the chance. "FOOLS!" She roars, slashing at a passing cat's flank. Blood spills, coats her claws. Good, she thinks, good. Make them pay. Make them suffer. Drive them out! She moves to chase after Mouseflight, intent on defending Harbingermoon, but teeth sink meet the flesh of her back, and the tunneler lets out an involuntary shriek, half surprised and half enraged.

She whirls around to face the threat—and stares down into the icy eyes of Sunstride, reflected in the face of his very own daughter. His daughter... Hummingbirdheart scowls down at the young WindClanner, the cat who openly denounces her clan and her queen just as Sunstride has. The fool thought to take away kits that Sootstar worked hard to bring back to WindClan. He should pay—and if he will not pay with his own life, then his blood may still spill. She can see it already, can taste it, red running in rivulets down mottled fur. She lunges for @rivepaw, sinking sharp teeth into her scruff. It isn't a bite meant to kill; no, that would be too good for this little traitor. She uses the grip on Rivepaw's scruff to wrench them to the ground on their back, and wide amber eyes regard the helpless apprentice with wicked glee. The little tabby should suffer, and her father should watch. He should feel helplessness, true despair. He should regret raising a paw against their queen, and he should feel the same loss as the rest of the clan. Those kits were WindClan's. A grin twists across her muzzle at the irony of it, and she even lets out a terrible cackle as she rips her claws in a harsh line across Rivepaw's stomach.

Blood wells up, just as it should. The apprentice bleeds below her, and Hummingbirdheart grins bitterly. "Your traitorous friends won't save you," she snarls, spit flying from her muzzle and into the younger cat's face. She does have nice eyes, truly. A brilliant shade of blue. Sunstride's eyes. "They're all going to die. You're going to die!" In a thrashing movement, quick and jarring, the cinnamon tabby raises a paw to the other's face—it leaves her slightly off balance, but she rakes claws down the apprentice's face all the same. Her intent is to blind, to destroy, to maim. She wants to see fear poison the expression that she sees. She wants to see regret. She wants to see terror. "Foolish kit!"

// please don't attack, this stuff is plotted out!​

​

 

[DUSTWHISKER]

Fervent claws dig into diluted patchwork, the form of Lilacstem their chosen target. Standing similar in stature to her, he is able to hold her in his grasp, able to sink tunnel-sharpened talons into her side.

Though Lilacstem is older than him by a multitude of seasons - far more than Dustwhisker could probably count - she's naive in her beliefs, in her childish dismissal of Sootstar's regime. A traitor like the rest of them. It should be no surprise, of course: his opponent is Brightshine's sister, and while a prominent family upon the moors, its a tree riddled with betrayal. Whispers of Pollenfur, of Emberfang, of Mallowlark have spread around the camp for as long as he can remember.

They're all the same, that family. All the same; yet still standing, unlike his own, taken by the stars the lot of them so lovingly believe in, leaving him behind to --

Lilacstem slips out of his hold, and a dusted skull is hit - skin torn open with a trickle of warmth, a tinge of copper adding to the already present scent in the air. Dustwhisker hisses, eyes blown wide at the sudden pain. It's a feeling only replaced by anger, by frustration, as a snarl erupts from him. "I'll... I'll kill you!" he threatens, lunging forward to grasp at the older warrior again to close the gap that had been made by her attack with rushing talons aiming to knock her over. Gnashing teeth looking for a place to settle, to draw blood from, to destroy.

// attacking @Lilacstem !
​

 

[Gooseberry]

Gooseberry is swiftly intercepted by Bluepool, another cat he would have expected better of. This is one of Sootstar’s kin, after all, and one of the only cats that has remained on her council. If even her family is taking a turn, maybe they’re more featherbrained than he assumed. But if there was any day to learn who he can really trust and who will face his wrath, it is today.

He manages to avoid her jaws with a strong dodge, speed coming to him despite his larger size. Gooseberry lets out a dark chuckle as Bluepool backs away from him, happy that she knew when she was a failure. “Disobeying your own blood? Didn’t expect that from you. Well, you’ve made your choice.” He hopes that she starts to understand where she went wrong when she’s bleeding out. Deathbeds tend to make you think hard about what you could have done differently, after all.

The white tom puffs himself back up, crouching in an attempt to pounce. He then springs, attempting to slam @Bluepool down. If he’s successful, he will try to lacerate her, starting with her face. “Just know this brings me no joy. You should have known which side to stand on.” It’s only partially a lie.​

 

[Thriftfeather]

The walk back to camp had been silent.

Thriftfeather hadn’t dared break it—he didn’t think about Granitepelt’s wounds, or about how he didn’t trust the ShadowClan apprentice. His thoughts are his heart in his throat and the tremble of his paws as he steps. Sootstar is radiant as she confronts Sunstride (Sunstride! he thinks, like a revelation, and then his mind once again quiets,) and accuses him of stealing away her kits. His gut drops out of him, visceral and sudden. His shoulders bounce as if caught in a sob that never comes; the next thought that arises from the dull mosquito-buzz of his mind is that this is too much, too much.

It’s no wonder Ghostwail worships Sootstar so doggedly—Thriftfeather imagines what Ghostwail’s reaction would be if Thriftfeather had been pried away, and another phantom-sob shakes through him. Something like this, he wonders. Something bigger. It’s what any mother would do.

The violence doesn’t erupt here. It has been erupting for some time. It just has a name now. As ill as Thriftfeather feels, at least it has a name now. Sootstar had told him—told the clan—to kill Sunstride, to fight for his clan—hadn’t Thriftfeather promised to do so? hadn’t he promised to protect his clan—but he can’t, he can’t he can’thecan’t.

Until, suddenly, he can.

Sound returns to him in a dizzying rush; colors return to vivid in a blink—Thriftfeather hadn’t even realized that the color had been gone, until the contrast of their return. He inhales and it doesn’t sound like a terrified sob. Ragged at the edges instead, but with a steadiness he doesn’t feel in the thrum of his rabbit-heart. Fogbound moves—Thriftfeather’s mind anticipates the motion before his body does, and he moves in tandem, no sign of the trembling that had taken him before.

How long ago was it that Fogbound had been telling Thriftfeather a story about a rabbit? He thinks of that now, dimly, as he aims to barrel into Fogbound’s flank in an attempt to intercept his attack on Mocking-grin.

“You’re a traitor to WindClan!” Thriftfeather shouts—has been shouting, and suddenly it is simple.

//interacting: @FOGBOUND​

WINDCLAN WARRIOR ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 9 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

It was lonely being the only cat in the world who seemed to distrust those who wore their honour like prized feathers upon their pelt. Between the time of the ShadowClan kittens disappearing and Sootstar's admonishment, it felt as if Sootspot had only breathed once. He did not have time to process the anguishing fact that he was right before a swarm of WindClanners attacked those who'd bared their fangs at their treacherous Deputy. Clanmates rushed clanmates and the Tunneler's blood was ice. He was there, he was not there, he was watching a new calamity, he was experiencing an old one, images flashing through his head of the first time civil war had plagued his home - how powerless he had been to do anything, how powerless he still was. Unsheathed claws gripped the soil in camp for dear life, as if sinking his effort into the earth would somehow result in wounds on those who'd appeared in his nightmares. Kill them, he willed his clanmates, the words turning to ash in his barren throat. Traitors, kill them all. Bloodshot eyes narrowed when his command (Sootstar's command) wasn't followed, sounds of war-screeches like claws on slate.

His breaths were heavy, caught between a rock and a hard place, the tom's survival instincts eventually caused him to twist his head back and forth for an escape. He spotted a goliath amidst Davids, its odd eyes searching for something. Sootspot tracked them to a ratty little thing attacking his sister... and Downypaw. She looked how he felt, a deer trapped staring at the eyes of a monster; no decision was good for the chimera. He would not die for his mother. He would not bow to the one who had undone all of his hard work. He would not go alone, even if he'd earned the ire of both 'sides'. Clarity began to pierce past his pounding thoughts the longer he stared at the other, seeing not a living, breathing being, but an excuse. All he had to do was get to her before their family did. Sootspot's belly pressed to the earth and with a wiggle of his haunches, he darted through the battlegrounds. Each body was a tunnel wall for him to avoid, each drop of blood was a blur as he sprinted past, and each step was filled with an urgency he would never be able to describe.

The point finally seems to find a place in reality, but it doesn't slow the Tunneler down. Sootspot aimed to tackle Downypaw, unsheathed claws grasping at thin air. His teeth hoped to find the thick fur around their scruff instead, tumbling forwards with his apprentice presumably in tow. It was not gentle, but it was bruises instead of blood he hoped to bring to the surface. He had killed before, a rogue that had it coming, there was an argument the apprentice deserved it too - were his lessons not enough to convince her that her family was bad news? The temptation was there, the instinct to taste copper upon his tongue the minute he saw movement, fear made him resist it long enough to release the other's neck. Tufted ears flattened, Sootspot's hiss sounded like steam from a geyser as he tried to intimidate the other. "Run." A warning that Downypaw should leave before things got worse, a warning that Sootspot was going to kill her; he was a husk, his tone too methodical to convince anybody, but enough to satisfy what he needed to do.

[ pre-planned interaction with @downypaw ! ]

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

It's Badgermoon all over again.

Sootstar yowls threats against her deputy; claims he has betrayed her, given up her kits. Scorchpaw has scarcely a heartbeat to be relieved that the ShadowClan kittens have found their home again before claws flash towards Sunstride's neck. He parries effortlessly, spits at her, tries to make her see reason. But it is clear to the young girl now that Sootstar is incapable of the feat: she's just a snake, coiling around WindClan to suffocate it, eating her own tail in the process. As long as she ruled, they'd never be whole. They'd never live without fear. They'd never be more than the scourge of the forest, and if Scorchpaw chose to stand in that shadow, she'd never be more than a cat complicit in that crime.

Sunstride had told her, not very long ago now, that he had suspected Badgermoon's innocence. To hear the words from his mouth had nearly shattered her world again; she'd spent her trek in the mountains hating her father for what he'd done, for what he'd sacrificed. His apprentice, his daughter, his family. Gone in a click of teeth, a slash of claws against Sootstar's flank. But... she'd been lying, hadn't she? Her omen, the attack against her. Had any of it been real? But as WindClan erupts into a flurry of claws and teeth and fur, Scorchpaw's time for contemplation runs out.

Stick with Scorchstreak. That's what Sunstride had told her, too, and so she seeks her flame-burnished mirror despite the ache in her chest. She finds her engaged with Bluefrost in combat, fierce looks on both mollies' faces. She would not participate in their battle — so instead she looks for @LUCKYPAW . It all comes back to him, really, her beloved pale-cloud brother, the kin she has gone through everything with, the one who understands her the best. Scorchpaw would not leave this camp without him. "Luckypaw! We have to run!" she shouts above the din, hoping that her words might reach him.

/ calling out for luckypaw but i dont have any plans! feel free to engage with her!

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐈 𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐆𝐄 ✧ 𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿

• 

• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw
  — she/they ; apprentice of windclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — signature by dreamydoggo, template art by ska-i
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

Chaos.

It takes so little time for the camp to erupt into it, sparks of tension on the air finally allowed to burst into full, furious flames. The accusation spat from Sootstar's muzzle didn't surprise Rattleheart - he had been partially involved in it, after all - but her actions did. He expected a simple exile at worst, but it seemed that her madness had finally consumed her, lashing out at the deputy that she had seemingly trusted to back her up no more than a few days ago. Sunstride doesn't take it lying down, and the tunneler is suddenly keenly aware of what is happening. The silent message communicated through the frantic yowls of battle and spilling of blood going on all around him.

It's do or die, and he didn't want to die here. He had already allowed his spirit to die a metaphorical death a hundred times over during Sootstar's rule, and he couldn't simply fade into the background any longer.

The first faces he sought out in the crowd were his siblings, a sense of relief filling him when he saw Scorchstreak already engaged in battle. At least they both knew where they stood, and he knew that his sister could handle herself. But where was Rabbitclaw? His green gaze darted frantically around the battlefield, looking for any sign of his other sister. When he came up blank, he hissed out in frustration, searching further until he found someone else in the crowd he had been searching for - Venomstrike. The sight of the moor runner had been making his blood run cold lately, but now it filled him with warmth and relief, white paws carrying him almost frantically to where the other stood. His head collided lightly with the other's shoulder, far too soft and caring to be interpreted as an attack from a loyalist.

His voice was quiet and hoarse as he spoke, pressing into Venomstrike's side and frantically trying to communicate all of the feelings he'd been keeping locked up inside in only a few moments. "Venomstrike... run. Grab Redpaw, get out of here, make sure you're both safe. Please. She won't win this, but I can't see either of you hurt. Please." He needs time. Wish he had so much more of it, so much that he could speak to Venomstrike properly. So much that he could lead both he and Redpaw away himself, just to make sure they were away from the chaos and the fighting and somewhere else, hidden away. For now though, all he can do is press his forehead against Venomstrike's own, breathing labored and frantic before he stepped away into the fray once more.

It didn't take long for him to find Scorchpaw in the crowd, her bright pelt sticking out even in the chaos. It seemed that she was trying to get herself and Luckypaw out safely - a relief for him to hear. So instead he zeroed in on the cat who had been put in his protection and mentorship. A cat who he didn't want to see go down the wrong path. He raced across the field of warring cats, mind spinning as he lunged forward to try and grab Peonypaw by the scruff, hoping to yank him away from his assault on Mouseflight. Whether he managed it or not, he would try in desperation to put himself in between his apprentice and his fellow rebel. "Peonypaw, stop! Don't do this, don't fight for her! She'll sacrifice you on her altar without a second thought the moment she feels you aren't useful anymore, she'll bring all of Windclan to ruin! You don't deserve that, not when so many cats care about you. Not when I care about you." It's a downright desperate plea, the tunneler's body meant to be a physical obstacle between Peonypaw and a choice he couldn't come back from.

Rattleheart prayed to Starclan that he would make the right one.

// talking to @VENOMSTRIKE to try and get him to run ; interacting with @PEONYPAW although not trying to hurt him and just trying to yank him away! he's focused on peonypaw but other loyalists may try to attack him and inflict small wounds though he will be escaping with the rest <3
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[mothmoon]

( ✧ ) sootstar stalks into camp with bloodlust in her screams and mothmoon makes a choice. her queen snarls blasphemous words, threats spewing from her tongue as easy as snow lands upon the moor. she hasn’t been sane in a long time, hasn’t been blessed by the stars. no frosty ancestors power her paws as she strikes at sunstride. her pack dogs snarl and drool behind her, a scene out of a starless nightmare. mothmoon makes her choice. it’s the choice she has dreaded the most.

the lithe dappled girl dances lightly on her paws as chaos floods her home. screeches and yowls fill the air, kin turning on kin. the she-cat scans the crowd for wingsoar, spots her mother with foaming anger on her face as she cowers in the elders’ den. there is a lump of disgust that sinks to the lowest pit of the warrior‘s stomach. she turns away from her kin, skirts the edge of camp and spots fogbound. thriftfeather screams insults at him as he claws at the tom, and mothmoon moves to join her former mentor.

“you betray starclan with your loyalties!” she snarls, attempting to dig her claws into the other warrior, pulling him from fogbound. should she be successful, she will kick up like a rabbit, back haunches scraping into her enemy.

// written on mobile oof. interacting w @FOGBOUND , attacking @Thriftfeather , lmk if i should edit at all! ​