private I know of truth by lies I've been told - Ghostwail

HOUNDTHISTLE

HOUNDTHISTLE

JUST LET IT DIE
Jan 6, 2023
136
21
18

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​
C_Angelkisses.gif
An eerie silence has enveloped him since he was chosen to go to the gathering, the older tom, though always a recluse, was even more withdrawn. He hovered on the outskirts of the clearing, his eyes unreadable as he had searched the crowd, searching for those damning sunflower yellow eyes that ensnared him so deeply and tangled him in this cage of lies, deceit, and regrets, and he couldn't lie and say he wasn't marginally disappointed to not see her face there. It was a relief, a huge one, but nonetheless, it was tinged with bitterness at that fact he wouldn't see the guilt that flickered in those eyes, the pain he yearned her to feel like he did. Perhaps it made him sick, made him twisted and wrong to wish her to hurt, but after all the pain and suffering he'd suffered at her paws and pretty eyes, it'd atleast feel fair, no matter if it went against his own morals of never attaining vengeance. This... this was a different vengeance he craved.

He reflected on this as he stood watch over the camp the next night, stationed outside the gorse tunnel. His eyes were narrowed as he glowered up at the stars, lips drawn down into a frown while a wrinkle in his brow showed the brewing storm of thoughts that warred in his mind. A constant battle with the beast that raged deep within, fighting the instincts to barrel into that pine camp and rip what was his from it before the soft-bellied, tantalizing poison could infect them worse. It's bad enough she's a kittypet... worst she's Skyclan, He thought disdainfully, dragging his tongue over oversized incisors while he studied the twinkling lights above, searching their empty, cold gazes for answers he knew he'd never receive. The stars, while they answered others, only ever left him with festering resentment and more questions then he'd like to have. If he wasn't assured he'd lost his mind before, the fact he was expecting spectral cats to come down and confess the retort to his queries he so demanded was the nail in the coffin. Houndthistle let out a sigh, filled to the brim with frustration as he ripped his gaze away, working his jaw as sharpened molars ground together, claws flexing idly to try and dissipate the tension that had claimed his shoulders since she'd revealed just what was born of his pain and damages. A rustle of the gorse entrance has his ears perking and his head swinging to meet the gaze of whoever was leaving camp at the height of the moon's path, his guard on edge.

"speech"
OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES
  • @GHOSTWAIL
  • Physical Health
    75%
    ⤷ left eye is blinded, deep bite wound and claw marks in chest, stomach, face, and shoulders. Currently offscreen healing thanks to Wolfsong
    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 / will not 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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How interesting it was to see the pieces fall into place. At first, she had assumed that Houndthistle craved the attention of their Queen, that he sought her approval for his pitiful accomplishments. At first, she had assumed him to be a groveller: Soot....s... Soot... he cried out in his dreams, his fur prickling in response to his phantasms. She had almost chuckled at the pointlessness of it all.

And then the strangest thing occurred to her... a SkyClanner named.... Sootspritespark (a hideous mouthful of a name, really, far less appealing that Sootstar's more dignified moniker) came up pregnant. Perhaps it may have been pure coincidence, a mere jest of the universe to provide such a comedy of errors....

Except! Except, she had heard upon a gentle bird's wing of a conversation that the very same Sootspritespark had not only given birth, but had named one of her so comedically timed children Thistlekit. Oh, the Gathering was so often an exercise in tedium but once in a blue moon, it provided the juicy fruit of gossip to harvest. This was one of those times.

The barest hint of a smile crosses her scarred face as she appears, her dingy pelt almost seeming clean in the moonlight. A spectre risen, an omen of destruction hidden behind the facsimile of a cat. Her burning gaze seems a little brighter as it settles on the dark tabby guard. "We stand upon the precipice of doom, or so the healers may believe." The statement is offered like a starter for conversation, as if she and Houndthistle were acquaintances simply parsing out the details of this moon's most recent news.

"A plague threatens the kittypets... and their sympathizers. I have no doubt that StarClan will protect those worthy, those who are... true.... to their cause." ​
 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​
C_Angelkisses.gif
Oh wonderful. He nearly scowls at seeing her face, his eyes narrowing as he made sure to shuffle himself, keeping her squared on his good side as he eyed her. Ghostwail was... perhaps one of few loyalist that he didn't enjoy the company of, perhaps it's discomfort from her unsettling appearance-though considering Houndthistle enjoyed the company of even stranger cats, like Cygnetstare and Bunnypounce, he doubted that one-or maybe it's because she reeked of deceit. It wafted off of her like waves, a loud rattling tail from a snake about to strike and he did not trust her. He had no proof of his disdain, no justification, but everytime he was in her presence he couldn't help to scowl and it even applied now. His lips pulled back tightly, a muscle on his nose bridge twitching while his ears flicked back, trying to figure out what riddle flowed from her mouth now. Something about Skyclan, the plague, and sympathizers... was she... His eyes narrowed into blazing thin ember and pale ghostly citrine as he now leveled her once more. "Ya enjoy speakin' in riddles or y'gonna actually say things that mean somethin'?" He growled, tone already becoming defensive as he assumed she was speaking about him. Had she assumed that the newly introduced Skyclan kits were...
Good job, Sootsprite, you may have gotten me killed, His mind bitterly thought, but, other then the defensive tone-easily can be thought of as he being too dumb to understand her word-choice, thank the stars everyone assumed he was too dense for such wording-he made sure to not give anything else away. His stubby tail was tucked close and his eyes, though annoyed, held no other emotion, everything carefully curated for his appearance. A mask of such a brute.

"speech"
OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES
  • text
  • Physical Health
    75%
    ⤷ left eye is blinded, deep bite wound and claw marks in chest, stomach, face, and shoulders. Currently offscreen healing thanks to Wolfsong
    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 / will not 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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He is as dim-witted as he is disloyal, it seems. Loathe as she is to engage with the daft and belligerent, the phantom of WindClan had found herself a target in a sea of fools. Tigerfrost had been the first. Surely, this one would be a lovely notch in her head to accompany her secret victim.

"So to say," she drawls in an aggravated fashion, "that your collar-bearing problem may very well take care of itself. You, however..." She takes a moment to rake her crimson-tinted gaze over the brutish tom, taking in the imperfections as if they would count against him, somehow dragging her already low opinion of him through the mud. "I am sure Sootstar would not take kindly to the true nature of your extracurricular activities."

She does not leave room for denial. There is no room for denial to her, and her mind whirls as he and that pink-collared fiend twist and tumble together in front of her. Let the SkyClan plague take him and his half-clan beasts. Let them fester in their own created demise. ​
 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​
C_Angelkisses.gif
His ears tick, a flash of anger in those eyes as she speaks, and if he thought he couldn't hate something more, apparently such thoughts were wrong. He raises his head from his usual lowered posture to glower down at the smaller, wiry corpse before him, the moonlight upon his back illuminating his large size in a glow through his bristly pelt and his good eye glares a harrowing red like the animals he's named after. "Listen 'ere, you wretched mongrel," The insult drawled and spoken with such disdain as though wielded with intent to kill, "I ain' done nothin' and there ain' any problems, as you spat, that's been goin' on. So whatever thoughts ya got goin' on in that maggot-'fested mind ya have, take care to purge 'em next time ya fin' yerself hunched ove' an' wastin' away yer supper tomorrow." His eyes flick over her appearance, gauging her as thick, thorn-like claws sink into the dry, pact dirt beneath his paws. She'd successfully gotten under his skin, her words wielded with an intent that found their mark and Houndthistle was beyond unhappy by that.

The mention of Sootstar sends the angry beast he'd kept leashed and kenneled into a frenzy, muscles shifting subtly as his glare intensified, brows drawing lower as his gaze darkened. "Ya enjoy tastin' dirt? Cause I sure could assist ya in gettin' a good mouthful if ya keep on threatenin' me, rat," He growls out, not even bothering to hid his disdain for her any longer. Courtesies and decorum were reserved for cats who did the same to him, and, as far as Houndthistle was concerned now, Ghostwail had made it clear she was a threat. A threat that, if it was between the two of them, he was sure he could silence and rid himself of, but a threat nonetheless. He glances toward the gorse tunnel behind her, as though trying to find the golden and white flank of his son, grounding and reminding himself of why he couldn't just bleed this wraith out where she stands and leave the moors. "I'm sure Sootstar would be jus' as curious at what yer doin' slinkin' 'round when the rest of the clan's sleepin'," He muses, dragging his gaze right back to her own. A silent threat, one that was made clear as he glared back at her, and it was this: Back off, or I'll find out what you're really up to.

"speech"
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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"My skin burns under the sun, dog, Sootstar knows that I and others of my complexion hunt beneath the moon." Her face portrays nothing, emotionless as always, though the accusation swirls in her mind. Surely, he knew nothing of certain rendezvouses that she had taken to ensure particular events to come to fruition. No, no, these were empty threats brought on by a man cornered by truth.

She flicks her tail once and her ears swivel back in annoyance. The disrespect of this traitor... "I think you have done enough. I do not speak in vague threats. Whatever passes my lips may be counted as a promise." Another flick of the tail, her dingy fur fluffed out ever-so-slightly in aggravation - the smallest flickers of emotion given as she moves ahead of the dark tabby. She is irate on the inside, seething at her own shortcomings to allow such a dim-wit to question her like some common flea-bag, but what is done is done. Tigerfrost had been an easy target, forgettable in his own way. It seemed that Houndthistle was determined to make himself more of a hassle than her previous hunt.

This one would take work. So be it.

She does not return her crimson gaze to his face once he is out of her periphery, but there is a pause in her movements. A silence. A stillness, before:

"Thistlekit." It is barely more than a whispered musing on the wind. "How silly is your pet, to paint such a target upon its child's back... don't you think?" ​
 

"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"​
C_Angelkisses.gif
He snorted, rolling his eyes at what she said as he let out a condescending 'tsk' from his lips, leaning back slightly as she continued flapping her tongue. Her excuse of 'her complexion' being the reason for her to slink around like a snake in grass was ridiculous, as he felt they both knew. Houndthistle, as dumb as he was, knew that if he told that smoky blue tyrant that one of her warriors was around, sneaking through camp under the light of the night, she'd go into a paranoid tailspin. It didn't matter if logically it made sense, Sootstar already made it clear logic was something that'd been abandoned with her care for her clan, and with the history of traitors and turntails in Windclan, much of said paranoia would be justified. "It don' matter what reason ya give, she won' care when how the many others been," Houndthistle retorted, glancing toward the moors once more, hoping this was the end of the conversation.

But, oh, appears snakes love to spit and spit and spit when they're being threatened. A deep peachy-toned tongue slowly dragged across his oversized incisors, wetting them as they gleamed in the pale blue light, his gaze locked on the horizon as he let her words sink in. "A promise made by a fox in a hen-den," He snorted, his eyes tracking her as she moved ahead of him, his ears drawing back in clear contempt as his pupils dilated slightly, claws digging into the ground softly. It'd be so easy for him to stand up, slam his giant paws into her brittle, thin spine, and dig his teeth right where her neck met her skull... she was confident he wouldn't, that he could keep his predatory instincts leashed like a good dog. She was sticking her paw in the cage, batting at the angry beast like she had any authority or safety just because she had this knowledge.

Oh, how he wished he could do as he pleased right now.

It's not until her next sentence falls from her teeth, stating the name of one of his very own blood, does his teeth bare out of her view, pelt bristling for a split second and his muscles tense, seconds away from snapping his teeth at the taunting ghost like the foolish little rat she was. He could already think of his reasoning, it'd be so easy. But just as quickly as the look of pure murderous intent is there, it's gone, his features schooled into a icy glare and his ears pushed forward, eyes locked upon her with intensity that could melt the harshest leafbare chill. "It's almos' like that's a normal name. Since, y'know, Windclan ain' the only clan wit' thistle plants," He drawled coldly. No. He couldn't kill her. Atleast, not yet. It'd just paint a target upon him and his son's back. He'd need to talk with Foxpaw about this, the two of them could get through this, and, anyway...

He'd told Sootspritespark they weren't his. She took them, they were her's. He wasn't in charge of protecting them.

"speech"
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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