camp I'LL LOSE NO TEARS ✧ kitnapping attempt

[Kindling]

She had not joined the rogues with which she had aided in forming, she had not stood with them in preparation for the battle to come and had only wished them well as she retreated back to her task at hand, leaving Shellkit with them with the knowledge they would be able to manage one kitten while she gathered the rest. She did not necessarily care for motherhood, she didn't want them back out of a sense of loss and longing or any adoration, she didn't want to deal with chatty little mouths always open and demanding food she could barely provide for herself. Kindling only cared for the benefits of having them under her paw, how easily the clans bent and submitted when tiny lives were threatened. She had heard the wails and cries hunting for the lilac kitten in the night, reveled in the realization of the token she had curled her claws around; they made for the best kind of tools of the trade - more powerful than even food or shelter. If she had known the benefit she would have played a different hand of cards, dealt a new strategy out in her initial efforts to seek safety and warmth from winter's cruel embrace.

As expected the camp is quiet, their forces having noticed the congregating rogues and moved out to deal with them; the brunt of their claws and teeth now absent and their nursery unguarded. She smells the scent of herbs through the tall reeds in one direction, the sweet scent of milk in another, her paws creep her forward to the mouth of the curled and woven structure; teal green eyes glinting as she twists to thrust her head inside with teeth barred. Queens are soft, weak, surely she was capable of handling any of their feeble efforts to fight her off. There was not a pregnant or rounded molly from twoleg place who was not just considered easy prey as far as most rogues were concerned; it had been the primary reason she sought the clans when she had her kits, the alternative was leaving them to die as she tried to find shelter elsewhere alone - the scent of milk was too alluring to a predator, her life had always been what she considered most important; guarding it with a zealous greed.

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Ooc: This takes place at the same time as the battle, please allow @hazecloud & @iciclefang to post first! No severe injuries like missing parts or limbs (outside what was given permission for already!) She is meant to escape but ya'll may absolutely maul her a bit!

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[iciclefang]

The battle cries of her Clanmates still linger in her ears; camp still smells like bloodlust and fear-scent overlaid with righteous fury. Her claws itch in their pouches, yearn to be free; she’d made promises to Clayfur’s spirit that she would bring him justice, and now she’s locked in the nursery behind a tangle of tightly-knit reeds and bracken. Her blue eyes are half-lidded; despite the excitement still fizzling in the air, she feels exhausted, as though she’s already wrangled half a dozen rogues and sent them fleeing. It’s the kits, she knows it’s the kits who are weighing her down and making nimble paws heavy as stone. She tucks her paws beneath her and sighs gently, feeling put-upon.

The entrance of the nursery trembles, and there’s a sharp stench—outsider feline, blood and grass and rot and something strangely familiar. Teal eyes burn through the gathered darkness. Iciclefang jerks to her paws, her pelt spiking. “Who’s there?” A snarl begins to tremble in her throat, traveling hotly down to her belly and igniting there, a blaze. There are kits in here, snuggled into Hazecloud’s thick pelt, having already lost one sibling—and here are greedy claws and a sharp, slivered gaze, reaching into the nursery with greedy paws.

Iciclefang moves swifter than she has in a moon. Her paws jerk her forward, claws tearing into the intruder’s flank with gusto; blood sparks from the rogue’s pelt like fresh blood. “You’ve made a big mistake, foxheart,” she hisses through her teeth, her ears lowering flat against her skull. She’s aware now that the nursery is painted with droplets of scarlet—that the remaining kits will have stirred, will have borne witness to the violence that is about to unfold. She bows into a protective stance, her tail whipping madly behind her.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 20 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Cicadapaw ; previously mentored n/a
  — riverclan lead warrior. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

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[hazecloud]

While it had taken lots of coaxing and reassurance, Pebblekit and Riverkit had finally settled down enough that she could get them agreeable to returning their tails back to the nursery for the night. Ravensong and Moonpaw didn't need cats that weren't patients spending all night in there, after all, and Lichentail needed the rest far more than the smoky queen. The coming of dawn felt like a long stretch now, waiting anxiously to see her leader and his patrol return.

Would they come back with Shellkit? Was she even still alive? She hoped, stars she prayed her little girl was already on her way home with them. She couldn't lose another one. They had to give her that mercy.

Hazecloud is busy tucking in the three younger kittens and hushing them back to sleep to notice Kindling's approach. Iciclefang's snarl brought her head whipping to face the intruder and her lips curled back as she stood over her kittens with an agitated lash of her tail. Fur fluffed to twice her size, urging the two toms to get behind her. "Boys, stay with the babies." She practically barked her orders to them while the new queen tore into the intruder with a ferocity not unlike her.

They may have nests in the nursery but the pair of mollies were warriors before ever stepping a paw behind the sedge. Molded from torn flesh and blood, Kindling would be reminded of this.

Hazecloud leapt forward to swipe her claws down Kindlings face, spitting at the gall she had to even show her muzzle in their camp. Iciclefang was right, Kindling would prove herself foolish for underestimating their wrath.​

 

[PEBBLEPAW]

( ☼ ) he huddles, trembling next to riverkit, a deep emptiness carving a third of his heart out of his chest. there is a distinct chill on his right side where shellkit usually sleeps, a lack of feather soft fur and muffled breathing. the babies are settled in, unaware of the missing piece in their family, and hazecloud has whispered enough comfort to allow pebblekit to at least sit down, relaxing his muscles. he feels a guilty grief growing a lump in his throat, but knows if he stars crying, his little siblings surely will. he has to be strong for (his momma) hazecloud. pebblekit presses against his brother lighter fur blending with the other kit's darker striped pelt.

as a growl rumbles from iciclefang's throat, tufted ears flatten, adrenaline bolting through his veins. the dappled woman has not spoken much in her short stay within the nursery (he doesn't think she likes to talk about her kits all that much,) so her noise is unexpected. similarly unexpected is the scent that enters his senses. a hook-clawed paw of blue fur swipes into the nursery entrance and iciclefang leaps to action. crimson droplets dance upon the packed moss of the nursery floor, and hazecloud's barked order rings in his ears as pebblekit peers over the side of his nest at the sight.

their protectors strike with taut muscles, warrior skilled and fight ready as they protect the youngest of their clan. pebblekit reasons he should be worried, scared even, and he is to some extent. he crouches, hovering over his littlest siblings with a dark look in his eyes, but he cannot tear his attention from the woman who now appears.

blue tabby fur, white patches, gleaming eyes, she looks just like him. that smell... that musty smell, milk long since faded, wet stone and twolegplace. he knows that smell, grew to find it comforting in the moon he'd spent with her. some emotion un-namable to the young cat at this moment takes over his chest, expanding as he breathes deeply, quickly, eyes widening.

"m-momma," he stammers, and he doesn't know if he's crying for hazecloud or addressing the skin-and-bones rogue he'd once been son to. there's something else on her, some scent much more familiar and welcoming, albeit missing from his side this very moment. the unrecognizable feeling sinks to the very bottom of his stomach, a stone bigger than his namesake. copper pools in his maw as he realizes he's bitten through his lip. he feels like retching, like collapsing back into sobs. she's found shellkit, and she's here to return her, he knows it.

kindling had always been aloof to him and his siblings, but not cruel. she would not leave shellkit out alone. the girl has to be just behind her, and so pebblekit stands from his nest, arching up on his tip toes. "shellkit?" he whispers, eyes so similar to his uncle scanning the midnight darkness behind his matriarch.

I DO NOT HAVE WINGS, LOVE ☼ I NEVER WILL

• // " speak "
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• 
  PEBBLEKIT ☼ HE / HIM, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING x UNKNOWN, NEPHEW TO SMOKESTAR. 2 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a large blue tabby with low white. pale blue fur covers the length of pebblekit's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.
  
  
  
  

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[robinheart]

Ravensong had told everyone left in camp to be on guard and Robinheart is nothing if not obedient. Her obedience has her checking over the elder’s den at the time of Kindling’s entry to the nursery, missing the intruder by mere minutes. It’s Iciclefang’s growl and snarling words that catch her attention, followed by Hazecloud’s orders to the older kits that call the tortoiseshell to action.

She sprints to the nursery, pushing her way in and taking in the scene before her quickly. Iciclefang and Hazecloud are attacking an intruder - a rogue who smells of the ones who had ambushed her patrol with Lichentail not that long ago. Fortunately her flanks have healed enough from the attack to not impede her movements, though she’s sure they won’t be as strong. Robinheart has little time to think, to make a decisive battle move, when she hears Pebblekit’s voice.

The kits.

Suddenly she is moving, swift and sure footed, to create a shield for the kittens. In such enclosed quarters she worries the fight may encroach the nest the kits are piled into. If it does, she will be ready with bared teeth and unsheathed claws ready to mark up the intruder’s pelt. Her mottled fur is fluffed out to make herself appear larger and eyes narrowed towards Kindling as if daring the rogue to try and move her to get to the little lives she’s determined to protect. “Pebblekit, stay behind me. Keep everyone grouped together for me, okay?” Robinheart instructs the tom, wanting him to stay put as she was uncertain if he’d try to leave the nest to seek out Shellkit.

 

[Kindling]

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The blue tabby reels back with a yowl of alarm, if she had not been noticed before she certainly was now. Two queens, not the soft and easy prey she suspected, suddenly latch their claws into her with vicious intent. A patchwork of orange and black barrels into her side, she nearly crashes to the ground from the sudden weight, a silver molly takes advantage of her distraction to rip open her face in a crimson shower - red splashes upon pebbled stones, she hears kits squealing and another clan cat rushes inside though thankfully she does not add to the agony already bearing down upon her. Kindling has made a mistake, a lapse in judgement, but she isn't a fool - she turns tail to break away from the nursery and the screeching queens. Her right eye is closed, she can't see through the veil of blood cascading over her face and sloughing down her side.
The tabby stumbles on her paws, realizing the eyes of several clan cats are now honing in on her, far more present than she expected when she realized they were leaving to face the rogues. With a spring she moves to rush to the reeds around the edge of the camp, moving swiftly to try and get away before her assumption ended in her life spilling across the ground.

✧ YOU LOST YOUR NERVE. ✧ YOU LOST YOUR GAME. YOU AND I ARE NOT THE SAME.

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Kindling
  —⊰⋅ Loner
  —⊰⋅ She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Blue tabby w/vitiligo & one teal eye.
  

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[salmonshade]

Salmon had not been cleared for battle, loathing fills her chest and creates an anger that fuels her to stay awake, not fall asleep, wait for the cats she knew to return safely. Oh, and yet if they don't... If I was there, would it change? Would I succumb to my fallen comrades fates? She tosses and turns where she lays, staring at everything and nothing in particular.

A molly slinks in to the nursery, Salmon almost doesnt notice her in the low light. Before Salmon can rise to unsteady paws, Robinheart dashes across and in. Struggling to her paws is a battle that aches her joints from a near moon of not using them, would she strain something if she dashed after too? Iciclefang and Hazecloud reside in the nursery, she knows that much, and with Robinheart helping she does not doubt the molly is worse for wear.

Salmons claws unsheath. Just as quick as she enters, the molly is reeling out. Driven away by Hazecloud and Iciclefang, the telltale scent of blood heavily following her. But I can't let her get away- Kill, does she go for the kill, she's done it before, Salmon needs to defend her home, I need to! She can't get away, I'll- I'll kill her, I will- Shes unsteady on her paws as she rushes forth, weak from her stay in the medicine den. Her chest cries at her to stop the sudden movements, the extreme activity, breathing is hard but she pushes forwards. Inwardly, she knows she will not do much. Yet, she cannot tell if the molly has successfully escaped with a kitten, but just incase- Salmon tries to spring in front to hopefully intercept the mollys path, trying to stop her escape for just a second, raising a paw to lash out anywhere she can get her claws in to. Whether or not she hits or misses, Salmon lets out a vicious hiss, ears pinned back, eyes slits. As long as Salmon could help scare her away for good, she'd consider it a win in her book.

₊˚.༄ info

• 
  -> salmon ,, salmonshade
  -> cis female ,, she/her ,, 36 months
  -> warrior of riverclan ,, former marsh grouper
  -> fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with white, blue eyes
  -> "speech, ff91a4" ,, thoughts
  -> lesbian ,, single
  -> smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
  -> chibi by pin

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