camp I THOUGHT I WANTED FAME — patrol return

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

He knows he will face judgment upon his return to camp. The gorse tunnel shivers, and Raccoonstripe leads his patrol through the trembling foliage. Their mouths are full of plundered fresh-kill, and a few of them are a little worse for wear, but they’d overwhelmingly succeeded in their goal. Skyclaw and Fallowpaw had broken rank, but there had been no casualties—for that, Raccoonstripe is thankful. He would not have forgiven himself if the patrol had turned into a bloodbath, and it’s a possibility he had briefly considered.

Raccoonstripe waits for his warriors and apprentices to deposit their catches, waits for the wails of judgment to erupt from his Clanmates. It makes little difference to him—because of his trespassing, kits’ bellies would be full tonight, and the warriors would not be overworked and starved. The tabby waits near the fresh-kill pile, a defiant look plastered upon his features.

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

• ooc: takes place after this patrol!
• 
• Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 37 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Thistlepaw ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
  — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
  — currently mated to Nightbird.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.
  
  

​

 

[Softsight]

Softpaw knows that the Clans can use all the prey they can get, even in a time of abundance like Newleaf. That's one of the things that defined Clan cats, she felt: that they knew hunger, and they knew it rather intimately. Every day that they got to eat was a blessing from StarClan. She didn't think twice when Raccoonstripe arrived in camp with a patrol and an array of freshkill, until she got closer and actually smelled the prey.

"SkyClan?" Softpaw murmured to herself as she stepped back, affronted by the sudden scent of the other Clan within ThunderClan walls. She looks up from the prey to Raccoonstripe, acting deputy, and considers her options. What should she say? That stealing this prey was a bad idea? - who was she to tell the acting deputy such a thing? "Where did all this come from?" She decides to say instead, a small frown tugging at the corners of her mouth - she already knows the answer.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• !
  

• 

• SOFTPAW ✩ apprentice of thunderclan, six moons
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.
  

​

 

[COBWEBTAIL]

He's resting in camp, about ready to see if Doepaw felt up to going out until... Cats begin to file in from the camp entrance, the air feels a bit frenzied. There is blood in the air, he scrambles to his paws to waltz over like one would do if they were totally not coordinated and tripped over their paws. "Skyclan?" Cobwebtail echoes Softpaw before she speaks again, levels Raccoonstripe with a question. He knows the answer at the very scent that stained their pelts, the prey that they dragged back. He stares at it, at the prey that is deposited and his eyes grow glossy.

"What did you do?" his voice barely comes out as a whisper, wide blue eyes slowly shifting from the prey to his brother. His baby brother, one who he had seen grow up. One of the remaining three children of Howlingstar. Did he intend to drag her name, the very Clan she is leading over, through the mud? Intentional or not, he cannot see a possible future where Orangestar lets this slide- they're in deep water now, especially with the Skyclan medicine cat in their camp. He swallows and he swallows hard, invisible feathers feeling like they're lodged in his throat, conflicting feelings rising in his chest. "What did you do," this time, it comes out sorrowful, almost a mournful question spoken more like a statement. He ignores the injured, his only focus on his brother. They're blood related- he would not condemn him, but so many questions... So little time as the seconds tick by until their mother inevitably approached.

Why, hangs on his tongue. We could have done more, asked for help, we could have done more than steal. And now- now, Thunderclan will lose herbs as well as their dignity. Was it okay to teach kits to break the warrior code, the more impressionable bunches in the Clan? His mind draws a blank. What was his brother thinking? He'll surely be punished for a crime like this- but Stars if he says his heart does not ache; does not beg for him not to be punished for this, he would be lying. He can only assume how grievous the consequences would be and his heart breaks for his brother to have to face them. Maybe Raccoonstripe thought it'd be the only way. Maybe... But the world is filled with enough maybes.

𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 ⋆ ☾⁺⋆ ☁︎ 𝙸𝙼 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴, 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃

• 
  ❥ cobweb ,, cobwebtail
  ❥ cis male ,, he/him ,, 44 moons
  ❥ thunderclan warrior ,, mentoring doepaw
  ❥ spindly blue & white tabby tom with blue eyes
  ❥ "speech, 827aab" ,, thoughts
  ❥ bisexual ,, single
  ❥ smells like oak trees & an odd mixture of smoke
  ❥ art by inkcap ,, penned by chuff

​

 

[HOWLINGSTAR]

Murmurs of SkyClan and the faint scent of fresh blood brings Howlingstar forward. Her curious eyes take in the large patrol littered with scratches before shifting to the several pieces of fresh-kill now left on the pile. SkyClan. SkyClan. Realization dawns on her as she stares at her son, who stands proudly next to their prizes. She meets his defiant gaze with a shocked look of her own. Finally, she speaks, "Raccoonstripe, tell me what happened. Did all of this come from SkyClan? Did you trespass to get this?"

She strides forward now until she is standing directly in front of the lead warrior, confusion and worry twisting in her gut. Please say it isn't so. How could her son be so foolish? Dawnglare resides in their camp now, teaching their undertrained medicine cat out of the goodness of his and Orangestar's heart. How could Raccoonstripe betray that so hurriedly? She sweeps her gaze across the cats that stand nearby, whether their faces appear proud like their ring-leader's or ashamed at what they've done. All of them have broken the Warrior Code today. But she wants to hear it from her child's mouth, first. ​

 

[leafhusk]

is there any way she could have prevented this? no, she comes to the conclusion quickly. she had learned what was happening after it was too late. barley a moon into her promotion, and one of the few active council members walked the careful line of border laws; leafhusk isn’t terribly surprised that raccoonstripe snapped. they are tired, hungry, desperate. raw meat and blood still isn’t her favorite meal, but these last few moons have made her ravenous for the flesh of vermin. going hungry in a time where she shouldn’t, is not a good look for her. thank you starclan for the prey that does fall into her claws. a pheasant would be nice, if you have any miracles to spare.

leafhusk’s head lifts to watch her clanmates pile through with trophies swinging from their maws. the patrol reeks of the forest. in different circumstances she’d be personally offended that skyclan was the choice, but professionalism comes before bias. why he couldn’t wait until dawnglare went back to his side of the forest is beyond her, but the damage has been done. was it worth it? the alliances we try so hard to keep? sits on her tongue, unspoken, because her words are only a pebble between someones pads. no, whatever howlingstar has to say will be much worse. poor son of the leader.​

 

[FALCONHEART]

𓍊𓋼 His caught prey has already been delivered to his mother and siblings—directly, a gift given in the quiet of the nursery. A gift given through the breaking of a code as sacred to the clan as StarClan themselves. He knows that what he’s done is unforgivable, but he did it for good reason. In desperate times, he would rather see himself barred from StarClan then see his siblings starve. The rest of the patrol must think the same thing, must have followed Raccoonstripe for the same reason. That’s why the cream-striped tom returns to stand beside the lead warrior with the rest of the returning patrol, bicolored eyes trained on the ground at his feet, to accept whatever his punishment may be. He wasn’t the one who came up with the idea, sure, but he had followed it, had helped set the plan into action. And that action had caused a fight—has now caused their clan to look at them with shock, with sorrow, with horror.

Shame paints a stormy picture across his own face, and Falconheart can bring himself to say nothing. There’s nothing to say, he thinks; nothing will undo what he did. Would his father be proud of him for it? No, he doubts that. Flycatcher probably stands up in StarClan now, disappointment and shame written across his own expression. Tears prick at his eyes—he’s surely made the worst mistake of his life, now. It’s only a question of what Howlingstar thinks a fitting punishment to be.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 take the world by storm

• ooc: —
• 
  FALCONHEART ❯❯ he/him, thunderclan warrior
  ⭃ shorter than average cream tabby with white spotting. seems gloomy and has few friends, but is a hard worker and never neglects his duties.
  ⭃ son of flamewhisker and flycatcher ; brother to stormfeather, scorchedkit, mothkit, sunkit, squirrelkit, sparrowpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ⭃ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[FALLOWBITE]

ˏˋ*⁀➷ Fallowpaw pads back to camp slowly, waning adrenaline dogging its steps. Scavenged catches hang limply from its jaw, grabbed feom any so careless as to nearly leave theirs behind. It stings, still, the knowledge that she has no catches of her own to bring. The SkyClan warrior's words linger in its mind, taunting and angry. It simmers, festers - the apprentice's face remains pinched in a glare as it deposits its catches upon the freshkill pile.

If only it had only been given more time, if only it hadn't had to scurry off with its tail between its legs... Fallowpaw lets out a huff, scratching at the ground with its claws. Cowards. Playing dirty, two warriors against one apprentice, all for measly prey that they're certainly not hurting for. She grits her teeth, does not look up as the leader questions Raccoonstripe. She'll let the higher-ups figure that out themselves; if she's not getting punished then it's not her issue.

There's a few droplets of blood on the prey she brought in. Fallowpaw blinks. "Anyone seen Gentlestorm?" she mumbles, lifting her head and peeking out through her shaggy fur. Her scratches aren't too bad, but... She thinks of Skyclaw, throat torn and pelt bloodied. The healer will be needed, that's for certain.

‎‎┌── HERE IN THE FOREST, DARK AND DEEP ⁀➷ I OFFER YOU ETERNAL SLEEP ──┐‎

• 
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  FALLOWPAW ⁀➷ she / it, apprentice of thunderclan, nine moons.
  ➳ a scarred, pointed brown and white molly with shaggy fur and golden eyes.
  ➳ standoffish and solitary, always seems to have a dark cloud hanging over its head.
  ➳ baying hound xx npc, littermate to antlerpaw & doepaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[WRATHHOWL]

*+:｡.｡ Wrathpaw's breath comes out in sharp, wheezing gasps. The boy trembles worse than a leaf in a wind storm as he stumbles alongside his mentor, deep blue eyes unfocused. How an event as special as his first hunt could've gone so wrong, he - he doesn't know! No...worse, he wonders if it had all happened because of him. A childish thought, self-centered even, but everything had gone pretty quickly awry after Wrathpaw missed his catch and got cuffed by a stranger. A skyclanner.
Then cats started screaming and hissing, and Wildheart ordered him to run and - and he did! And he'd hidden in a bush, waiting for his patrol, begging that he hadn't just left them all behind to - to - what could've happened? What DID happened? Fallowpaw and Skyclaw...oh Starclan...

His adrenaline refused to abate, only skyrocketing to punch through his throat when he lifted his gaze and finally focused his attention to see his clanmates - they were disappointed at them. They were disappointed?! No, no, no Howlingstar and Cobwebtail and everyone else were focused on all the wrong things-
"We were just hunting! A-and Skyclan they, they attacked us!" Wrathpaw proclaimed, painfully unaware of his ignorance. In the young boy's mind, only two things were true - they were all hunting for the good of the clan, and then Skyclan attacked. This being his very first patrol, he had been woefully denied the important lesson of understanding borders.

"Raccoonstripe w-was just trying to feed th-the kits!" the boy pleads, devastated that his leader would look so disappointed at the tom who'd worked so hard to feed them all - who'd been betrayed by Skyclan. Hurt by them!

He didn't entirely understand what was going on, but Wrathpaw knew, deep in his core, that this was Skyclan's fault.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 4/16/24

• 
  
  
• 
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ♡ Wrathkit
  ♡ DMAB— He/Him
  ♡ 5 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ♡ Brother to Lovepaw, Joypaw, Gigglepaw
  ♡ Thunderclan — Kit
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ♡Physically easy | mentally easy
  ♡ Attack in bold #191961
  injuries: None currently

​

 

[THISTLEPAW]

Thistlepaw has done exactly as directed. He chose to cross the border with his mentor, to hunt for the kits this clan cannot feed; he chose to follow every order from the tabby's maw. He retreated when he was told to and carried his mouse back proudly. Past the questioning looks to those that start to gather by the prey pile, and into the nursery. With his head held high, his first catch is deposited directly in front of @Flamewhisker — then he retreats. But the pride has left his stance now that his success is out of his paws. Each stride lengthens, his shoulders dipping lower, until his gait turns to slinking as if he treads through the undergrowth. Every one of his clanmates may as well be a piece of bristling foliage. Already he can scent the tension on the air.

For now, all he does is sit at Raccoonstripe's side and await the truth to spill from his mentor's tongue. Because it was the truth: this was important, it was necessary, and they did their jobs well.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 🙴 𝗕𝐎𝐍𝐄  ╱ 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑰𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑯 𝑰𝑻? ＜03.03＞ ⸙

• OOC. —
• 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐖. HE - HIM. YOUNG APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN. ————— the son of an ex-kittypet has spent most of his life confined to the medicine den. bad circumstances and worse healing left him in a limbo between life and death which he only just escaped. there's still recovering to do before his clanmates see him as anything more than a weak, sick kittypet.  ╱ PENNED BY REVELATIONS
  
  a prickly-furred chocolate and slate cat with amber eyes. though with a blocky, nearly bulky frame, thistlepaw has been softened, rounded, and stretched thin by his uncertain life. without work or play to thicken the pads of his paws or add strength to his limbs, his skin plays like canvas stretched taut over its frame, his fur a hazy cloak to cover the sickness. he seems soft and unwell in equal measure. certainly not an apprentice to be. . .

• "speech"

​

 

[GENTLESTORM]

'CAUSE SOMEWHERE DOWN THE BANK — He had preoccupied making sure that Nightbird's wounds were healing and didn't risk infection but the concerned, hushed voices outside of his den make his ears twitch. The smell of copper being the first to greet his nose after he gathers up a few cobwebs, marigold, and poppy seeds that he carefully wraps into an ivy leaf. The mountain of fur slips out from his den wondering what could've happened but the murmurs of Skyclan, the sight of prey dangling from their jaws, and the blood that spills from injuries is enough to make his pelt prickle. His eyebrows knot together as he sets the bundle down carefully only to find a rather unkind growl slipping from his throat "Are you all mousebrains!?" He spat out angrily not caring to who he's speaking to and there would be nothing that would douse out his burning anger.

"Do you forget whose in my den trying to finish my training and you go off to pull stunts like these?" His ears lay flat against his skull glaring at each and every individual present, they drag the name of Howlingstar and Thunderclan in the mud with their actions, and have the nerve to get into a scuffle to waste his precious herbs that he spends every day searching for. He wishes to say more and continue to pierce them with his eyes, the disappointment present in his copper gaze. Falconheart and Thistlepaw recieve his stare for a few heartbeats before he turns to those that were clearly injured, Skyclaw and Fallowpaw. "The both of you. Come here." The usually warm healer says in a curt voice that didn't allow for any room to argue.

Gentlestorm glances in the direction of Howlingstar unable to even look in Raccoonstripe's direction anymore, he's certain that his mate is going to be more than thrilled about the fact that the black tabby had broken the warrior code for the sake of the clan. The medicine cat would rather more patrols be sent out to find more prey than all of this and he could only silently pray that Dawnglare would finish his training but the chances are feeling slim especially since he had his own spat with the other tom.

WHERE THE DOGS ROAM ✿ POR LA CALLE QUE TE LLEVA A CURICÓ

• 

  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ✿✿✿✿✿ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✿✿✿✿❀ INFECTIONS
  — ✿✿✿✿❀ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✿✿✿❀❀ ILLNESS
  — ✿✿✿❀❀ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✿❀❀❀❀ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✿✿✿❀❀ BROKEN BONES
  — ✿✿✿✿❀ KITTING
  — ❀❀❀❀❀ POISONS
• 
  ✿ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
  ✿ gentlestorm is a very warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he's very social and willing to lend anyone a paw if they need it. he's very patient, caring, and it's usually rare to earn his ire.
  ✿ 55 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✿ widowed mate of little wolf
  ✿ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset ; peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✿ "speech", thoughts, attacking

​

 

[WILDHEART]

Wildheart was relieved that Wrathpaw hadn't been seriously injured during the whole ordeal, and even though he wouldn't admit it on the outside he was feeling genuinely furious at himself for putting his apprentice in such a position in the first place. If he could have changed the past then he would have, but that just wasn't how things worked.

He added his catch to the pile before he cast a look of uncertainty at his former mentor. Bellies would be full that day, but at what cost? Why was he feeling so torn over the matter? The feeling only seemed to deepen as Howlingstar arrived to confront them, or more specifically to confront Raccoonstripe to begin with. Wildheart made the choice not to run or hide from the situation, though he did move to be closer to Wrathpaw.

The condition of his young ward was... shocking, to say the very least. He wanted to offer comfort and reassuring words, but he wasn't sure how to do so. So many others in the clan had such a skill at doing so, but he did not. Though before he could muster up any semblance of a strategy Wrathpaw began to speak up again in Raccoonstripe's favour. "Hush, Wrathpaw!" The instruction spilled out sharper than he had wanted and it caused him to flatten his ears as he inwardly scolded himself. "We shouldn't speak out of turn, Wrathpaw." He added a little more calmly before he aimed to touch a paw to Wrathpaw's shoulder in an bid to settle him.
​

 

[ROEFLAME .]

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-

Raccoonstripe was one of the first cats to teach a young Roeflame that not everyone can be placed in a “good” or a “bad” category. The tom was a fine, experience warrior with a steely sense of loyalty, but his morals and personality as a whole were a different conversation entirely, so in a way… the queen considered the tabby neither good nor bad. Not even now, with that grotesquely smug look smattered across broad features, or the way he and his patrol bring the scent of blood and Skyclan into their camp. Roeflame stared at the fresh-kill the returning patrol members deposited, the memory of a dead squirrel laying across an invisible pine-laden border, and the tragedy it struck. Yet, it was true that Thunderclan was struggling, their nursery bursting at its seams with dozens of mouths to feed atop a new generation of apprentices, its predecessors of warriors and elders alike. It’s wasn’t hard to see what might have possessed the tabby warrior to resort to this.
The way he went about his return was more than disdainful, though. Sitting at the edge of the gathering crowd, watching as Howlingstar and Gentlestorm stride forward, the latter carrying a thunderous message to the formers shock. The other outbursts wash in an out of golden ears, and celadon optics flicker to the medicine den, half wondering if Dawnglare would emerge with a similar attitude as Gentlestorm. ”Are we truly so desperate for prey?” She finally asks, lifting her gaze with a knitted brow, ”Can we not feed our clan during new-leaf by our own means?” A twinge of guilt sparking the queens chest, she had little right to lump herself in with the clans warriors, she was one of the contributors to this kitten boom, after all. Still, her questions are more genuine than they are angry.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── SHE BLOWS OUTTA NOWHERE ⋅✴⋅ ROMAN CANDLE OF THE WILD ──┐‎

• 
  
  
  

• 

• 
  ROEFLAME ✩ she/her, Lead Warrior of Thunderclan, twenty-two moons.
  ⭃ petite cinnamon silver ticked tabby with murky green eyes & a small scar over her left eye.
  ⭃ mate to Burnstorm ☀ mentor to Foxpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ☀ underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Flamestar]

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ Falconheart bringing her and his younger siblings prey was nothing out of the ordinary. Though when he had deposited his catch and didn't stick around to talk at all, she knew something was up. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as he darted from the den, but she didn't call after him. His father's death had been hard on him too, perhaps something had happened that reminded him of him. The stars knew how many times a day that happened to her. She leaned down to pick up the prey, but as she did so, a strange smell touched her nose. Skyclan? The fur along her shoulders began to prickle, and she whipped her head upwards. Her elder son was already long gone, but before she could chase him down, Thistlepaw brought in a catch of his own. She murmured her thanks, and as she suspected, the prey shared the same scent.

As the fiery tabby emerged from the den, there was already a crowd forming around Raccoonstripe and the other patrol members from earlier. The queen joined Roeflame's side, and cast a glance towards Howlingstar. "Care to explain why the prey that was just brought to the nursery reeks of Skyclan?" her words were sharp and harsh, and she attempted to catch her son's gaze. If she did, she would narrow her eyes we'll talk later the look said it all. Out of all of their neighboring clans, Raccoonstripe decided to steal from Skyclan? Why not Shadowclan? Or Riverclan? They wouldn't blink an eye before doing it to us. She held in the comment, deciding that wouldn't be a good thing to say right now....the anger in the air was thick. Orangestar had sent Dawnglare to them to finish Gentlestorm's training, which would now surely be cut short.

Roeflame asks if they were truly so desperate for prey, and she too wonders the same. A wave of guilt washes through her, for she was one of the contributors of the full nursery. But it was new leaf, there should be plenty of prey to go around. "If we are so low on prey, what about the territory across the loner lands border? Skyclan needs their prey just as much as we need ours. They have kits too." And now their kits would go hungry tonight, because Thunderclan had taken a whole patrol's worth.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── MY DARLING ⋅✩⋅ WHO KNEW ──┐‎

• 
  
  
  

• 

• FLAMEWHISKER ✩ she/her, deputy of thunderclan, 32 moons, ages on the 20th
  ⭃ LH red tabby with low white (masks black tabby, carries dilute, solid)
  ⭃ widowed mate to flycatcher / / mother to: falconheart, stormfeather, sparrowpaw, sunkit, mothkit, scorchedkit, and squirrelkit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ will start a fight, will finish fights, will kill (case depending)
  ⭃ link to toyhouse
  ⭃ penned by Icey ! ↛ @icefang65 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[skyclaw]

"Luckypaw," he summons his mottled apprentice as they break through the camp's threshold. The pain of his injuries has plagued him the entire walk home, but he does not waver in front of his apprentice. He remains sturdy, unbothered. He pushes his catch towards the snarky tom and motions towards the elder's den, "The nursery will be well fed, so make sure our elders are taken care of, too." Skyclaw may admit that they caught 'too much,' but such is the risk of a large patrol. He does not regret his actions whatsoever.

Skyclaw's gaze rises to find Howlingstar confronting her son, and he remains where he stands for a few long moments. He doesn't yet deflate, doesn't yet express his exhaustion or discomfort. Surely their leader will have much to say to all of them there, and though he thinks it warranted, he doesn't think himself exempt of punishment. Gentlestorm comes through, his voice thunderous and angry, and Skyclaw meets his gaze with the same spite a child would have with their parent.

"You've your paws full, Gentlestorm," he says, plainly, as if Fallowpaw hosts an army's worth of injuries. "Leave me off of your mind," he finishes, and he rebuffs the tom's immediate attempt to mend him.​

 

[luckypaw!]

𓆗 . ° ✦ Luckypaw breaks through the tunnel leading to camp triumphantly, his catch on his jaws and his check puffed out with pride. Their prey might have been taken from SkyClan's land, but who's to say they hadn't been born in ThunderClan. Shouldn't it count as theirs, then?

Interrupted by his mentor's voice, the tri-colored tom takes his prized vole to the elders' den, dropping it directly at their paws with a cheeky grin. "I caught it myself!" Luckypaw purrs, skidding out of the den with his head held high. His sage-green eyes lock on Gentlestorm and Howlingstar, confronting the patrol but especially Raccoonstripe. Taking long strides, the apprentice settles beside Skyclaw, glancing at his injuries. Maybe you should let Gentlestorm check your wounds. He murmurs, not trying to stir anything up, but simply looking out for his mentor.

speech thoughts

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  LUCKYPAW — HE/HIM ･ 6 MOONS ･ APP OF THUNDERCLAN ･ PENNED BY NOCTHYMIA!

  brown & black chimera tabby tom with sage-green eyes.

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

SkyClan, SkyClan. The birds chatter aimlessly. And with such a fuss, he figures that the matter must be him; but when he pokes his nose out into the sun, he finds feathers littered at a ThunderClan patrol's feet. Dawnglare cared nothing about these things. Not in his clan ( in name only ) or any other's. But chatter entices him to slither closer. To look, to listen. The line he traces is just barely in Gentlestorm's image. A Leader's presence implied importance, didn't it? Gentlestorm raises his voice. Oh, he really should see...

When the deputy— that's who she was— stomps over, oh, then he understands. Then he pauses to trail his gaze wondering across those with mouths still stuffed, across the freshkill pile, now tinged with the scent of pine sap. Across each and every one of their pelts, a little off in some peculiar way...

He pities them all, really. More eager to take from those they perceive as having enough, than simply going to where they could have enough themselves. If these wildcats deem themselves so superior, could they not at least abide by the same pointless laws they swear make them different? How many had there been? Again, his gaze sweeps through. One, two; two summoned to Gentlestorm's side. Three, four... Again and again, he counts. Is this the Clan Blaise had been so enamored by...?

You've your paws full, Gentlestorm. Dawnglare knows nothing of this one's name. Leave me off of your mind. What a thing to say, indeed...

" Nonsense, " he speaks. Unexplainably, he is drawn to leer toward him. " I am here to help. " With a smile and a flick of his tail, he beckons them.​

 

[badgerstripe]

There's a commotion at the camp's entrance that stirs Badgerstripe from her usual daze. The scent of SkyClan reaches her nostrils first, and then blood - her first thought, fearfully, was that SkyClan were invading them. But upon swiveling her ears towards the ruckus, she soon finds that the opposite was true - or so it seems, given the accusations.

The 'deputy's hunting patrol returned with a bounty that could feed their surplus of kits and more. Badgerstripe is impressed, at first, but does well to hide the expression in the face of all the scrutiny. Prey from SkyClan, then? she guesses as various cats scorn the patrol for their choice of hunting. Regardless of their actions, the kits would be fed well tonight, and that's not something they can take back.

But she wonders just how 'right' or 'wrong' the whole thing was. ThunderClan was struggling to feed itself, evidently - but SkyClan has kits to feed, as well. Not that they didn't have Twolegs to run to whenever things went south; ThunderClan wasn't afforded such a safeguard. In the end, Badgerstripe decides it's not worth getting in the middle of all this - she thinks, selfishly, that the patrol will get what's coming to them for breaking the code.. and Badgerstripe will finally have some eyes off of her for a while.

So, for now, Badgerstripe keeps her mouth shut and returns back to her daydreaming. Her eyes close and she feels a sense of relief wash over her. She wasn't the only failure in this Clan anymore.
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• badgerkit badgerpaw BADGERSTRIPE
  ━━ WARRIOR of THUNDERCLAN | 14 MOONS ,, ages every 21st
  ━━ NPC xx NPC | SIBLING to n/a — sibling adopts here!
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to none | PREVIOUSLY MENTORED by BURNSTORM​
• 
  
  
• speech is #FB8B24​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

It doesn’t take long for cats to crowd around the returning patrol, their faces pinched with outrage. Softpaw is the first to speak, her query simple, innocent. Where did this all come from? Raccoonstripe levels her with a look and mews, “SkyClan.” It’s the only explanation he owes the pale apprentice.

His elder brother, Cobwebtail, is there soon, his expression one of devastation. What did you do, he asks, then repeats, as though Raccoonstripe has committed a mortal sin. The tabby lifts his head, chin raised, and replies: “What I had to do.” There is no shame creasing his words, unlike some of the cats who’d gone on the patrol to SkyClan. Their paws are muddied with piney soil, their claws are tipped red with SkyClan’s prey’s lifeblood, but Raccoonstripe, for all his faults, does not falter in the face of his Clanmates.

Until Howlingstar appears, that is. The tabby leader’s green eyes are round with surprise and disappointment. Did all of this come from SkyClan? Did you trespass to get this? Her strides are quick and even, and before long, she’s nose-to-nose with him, staring up at him as though his explanation could undo his crimes. Raccoonstripe holds her gaze, and it loses some of its defiance, especially as Wrathpaw does his best to defend him to their leader. “Yes,” he answers. “Our Clan hungers. We have more mouths to feed than we have working paws out in the forest. SkyClan does not have this problem.” His charcoal gaze lifts from his mother’s stare to flit around the cats who continue spouting judgment.

Gentlestorm calls them mousebrains, refers to Dawnglare’s stay in their Clan as if that should make a difference. The tabby’s lip curls. “Yes, another mouth to feed. He benefits from this as well as you do, Gentlestorm.” Even the queens, whose bounty had been planted before them, begin to snarl in his direction—particularly Flamewhisker, whose whiskers quiver with anger as she berates the patrol.

To his ginger-pelted deputy, he turns a neutral look her way. “The loner lands are prey-poor. I did not do this with SkyClan’s needs in mind. My duty is to ensure ThunderClan flourishes. To make sure your kits can eat and thrive.” He turns this same look onto Roeflame, but there’s no venom in it. He lifts his chin again, prepared for the judgment Howlingstar will no doubt lay upon his shoulders.

I did it for you all.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 37 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Thistlepaw ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
  — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
  — currently mated to Nightbird.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.
  
  

​

 

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Tybalt sat, silent as the patrol returned. He listened to his clanmates spout their judgement, and the patrol cats defending their choice. Howlingstar was of course, furious. Flamewhisker too. Tybalt looked toward @RACCOONSTRIPE, attempting to meet the other warrior's gaze briefly before giving a tiny, scarcely noticeable nod. Code or no code, the prey was already killed and taken. ThunderClan's youth were fed. As the weather continued to warm, many of the kits would grow into apprentices, able to catch their own prey and take some of the weight from the shoulders of overworked warriors. SkyClan could beg twolegs for food if worse came to worse, and ThunderClan was not afforded such a luxury.

 

[THISTLEPAW]

Thistlepaw does not know what he had expected. To be hailed as a hero certainly was not it, but this? This? His clanmates cowering from judgmental gazes? Even the queens that they had done this for raged against the offerings. His own hackles rise with poorly restrained anger. Striking out against a clanmate was a cardinal sin but was it any worse than this, to these cats? Do they think that taking from SkyClan was worse than letting a clanmate starve? He voices that without thinking: "Why do you want to go hungry?" Frustration and irritation both color his words. It sounds like dismay and hatred. So long he had been a burden to this clan. So long he had sat and rotted and took. The look that Gentlestorm gives him solidifies that. He had been a drain upon this clan and now he could give back, and they didn't want it?

"Why should I care about SkyClan more than any of you? They're–" Rage and animal-fear, prey-fear, roil up in his chest. "They're no better than kittypets." Fast breaths of panic and rage fill up his chest and spill over between tightly clenched teeth. What was he, to them? No better than a kittypet? No better than WindClan of old, and the tales of Sootstar he had heard? (Is this what she had felt, then? This burning need to defend her clan?) Whatever these looming cats may think, Raccoonstripe has trained him well. He knows better than to speak out against the warriors of this clan. What comes out from him now is a plea for understanding. For them to see why they did it, and for himself to learn how he was wrong. But it comes out so badly. Angry. Hot. He knows just enough to shut his mouth before his barbed tongue goes where it shouldn't.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 🙴 𝗕𝐎𝐍𝐄  ╱ 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑰𝑻 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑯 𝑰𝑻? ＜03.03＞ ⸙

• OOC. —
• 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐖. HE - HIM. YOUNG APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN. ————— the son of an ex-kittypet has spent most of his life confined to the medicine den. bad circumstances and worse healing left him in a limbo between life and death which he only just escaped. there's still recovering to do before his clanmates see him as anything more than a weak, sick kittypet.  ╱ PENNED BY REVELATIONS
  
  a prickly-furred chocolate and slate cat with amber eyes. though with a blocky, nearly bulky frame, thistlepaw has been softened, rounded, and stretched thin by his uncertain life. without work or play to thicken the pads of his paws or add strength to his limbs, his skin plays like canvas stretched taut over its frame, his fur a hazy cloak to cover the sickness. he seems soft and unwell in equal measure. certainly not an apprentice to be. . .

• "speech"

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