i'm checking my vital signs - EVACUATION #1

Tendrils of smoke wrapped around her throat and invaded her lungs. Wheezing and puffing, her chest struggled against the invasive toxins. The fumes couldn't be expelled because to exhale meant less available oxygen. And the air quality was far too polluted, for too oppressive to restock any used supplies.

Somewhere along the way, she'd forgotten her makeshift mask that she'd demanded her fellow clanmates wore. Would they even be helpful at this moment in time? The thick smoke seemed to be deterred by nothing.

The blue molly felt herself drifting away, the tether connecting her to the land of consciousness becoming increasingly thin. At least, until a wailing voice anchored her back to earth. Roekit! She wanted to call back, assure her she'd be fine, and that she was coming but her dry throat and thick tongue made it impossible to speak in anything louder than a harsh whisper.

Unsteady, leaden paws took a step forward when-

Crack.

Time slowed as a charred branch fell from the skies. Directly towards Roekit. The weakened molly struggled to make it there in time. Thankfully, a blur of cream shoved the lilac kit away from harms way.

... Only to then be pinned down by the red hot wood.

Emberstar. Stinging eyes stared at the leader's now limp body. The molly could turn the other way, claim the smoke obscured her vision, and allow the natural events to slowly wither away her remaining lives. ThunderClan could survive without the ditzy cream-point, especially given her recent leadership duties. Especially since she let that monster reside in their camp, granting him access to the youth he surely preferred to feast on.

When Emberstar's limp body became rigid once more and began to move, the medicine cat stood there conflicted. The she-cat swore through clenched teeth. Dammit!

Paws pressed against the branch which had been a brutal mistake. The embers burned her paws, searing deeply into them and her legs. Compared to the death of her nephew, compared to the hurt inflicted by her "friends", compared to the unforgiving whispers of cats who knew her yet didn't try to understand...

Well, compared to all of that then this was nothing. Or so she told herself.

Embers latched on her face and burrowed into her lungs as she lowered herself to the ground. Blistered paws pushed up. The branch didn't need to be completely removed at that moment. Instead, she only needed to make enough room for Emberstar to squirm out of harms way.

Stars, why was she risking herself for this imbecile? Emotions and thoughts ran rampant. Because she saved Roekit, she concluded. However, even she knew that wasn't the full truth. Something stirred inside of her, a sense of self she thought she'd lost - a sense she had lost. That part of her was dead so then it had to be because of Roekit, right?

When paws wedged the branch upward enough, she lifted the flame touched branch with her shoulders. The smell of burnt fur overwhelmed her nostrils. "Move!" she hissed through gritted teeth. The boost from the adrenaline her frenzied heart pumped out wouldn't last forever. And her physical body could only endure so much. As a warrior (former warrior), pain wasn't an uncommon experience but this, this felt incredibly different.

Lungs and muscles cried out. Just a little longer. As soon as Emberstar wormed herself free.. Well, then what? Evacuate? The thought tasted sour on her tongue. There were still cats trapped! She couldn't simply leave. Unless she sought help. Despite her panicked state she knew there was only so much she could accomplish on her own. Especially when she probably wouldn't even be able to reach further in - the smoke and lack of oxygen made it impossible to even fathom jumping over the debris.​
 
"WE ARE THE BROKEN ONES, WHO CHOSE TO SPARK A FLAME"​
Life returned to her body more peacefully than it had the first time. Her return was not a shock to her senses, a startled confirmation of her belief, but an expected reality. This was a possible impossibility she knew already. Breath returned to her lungs. Her eyelids fluttered. Pain, dull and unsure, ignited on the edge of her senses. She coughed weakly. It was not the violent shock to her system it had been the first time, but neither was she entirely accustomed to it yet. It was an unusual sensation still, and one she needed time to recover.

Time she did not have. Her mind struggled to remember where she was through the haze of smoke.

"Move!"

The authoritative command snapped her back to reality, and the leader struggled with all her might to escape from the branch she was trapped under. There was no purchase she could find forward, the gap was too narrow, but as she then tried to pull herself backward she began to move. The bark of the branch scrapped against her as she wiggled out. Then, finally, she escaped.

The danger persisted, however, as the dull pain she had felt along her back sharpened to a point. Embers danced at the edge of her vision. She dropped, rolling along the ground again and again until the sensation faded. Slowly, shakily she stood, though she did not want to. She had to check that she had gotten all of it. Turning her dead, a rippling burn scar met her gaze, one that turned her stomach. There was, at least, no fire left that she could see.

Emberstar breathed, and took a weak step further into the burning camp to try and see if there was anyone she could still help.​
✦ ★ ✦​
 

The smoke hit him first – tendrils that wormed their way into his lungs through his nose, his mouth... a coughing joined by more from the others beside him brought him to his senses. Calls of evacuate echoed through the clearing and the young warrior was quick to look for his family - Howling Wind called for their escape, Little Wolf (oh, did he glean the words pregnant?) and Hollow Tree were close by and Berryheart could also be spotted. He paused, knowing his small size would give him an advantage when running through the narrowest parts of the undergrowth, and double checked - triple checked - he needed to be certain that everyone was running ahead, making their way out of the camp...


// just a post to get me back into thunderclan so he's not interacting much with others just yet ! <3

​
 
Tybalt watched in horror as the branch pinned Emberstar to the ground. He hadn't heard her command to flee, too absorbed in his search to pay attention to the hiss that followed him. The leader had pulled herself up, swaying on weak paws. It was a motion he had seen before, when his mother had died. Violetta hadn't had the extra lives that the cream coated leader relied on.

He turned around and moved swiftly to the leader's side, shouldering her upright yo to keep her from collapsing from exhaustion. "We have to go," he told her quietly. "You'll lose another life if you stay."
 
Last edited:

THIS WEIGHT ON MY NECK MAKES IT HARD TO CONNECT​
Howling Wind' warning fluttered past deaf ears, their char tips tipped toward his brow in concentration. Slit, aglow with candlelit concentration, his eyes paving a worthy path forward. Sloepaw was moving before he knew it, he was running- a ribbon of sable that wove through the haze. He didn't know why he was sprinting towards the burning nursery. It was stupid really, the tom reasoned quietly in his mind. A mind swarmed with smoke, ash and the cries of his now clanmates.

How had it come to this? The thud of paws against the cinder-pattered earth beneath him slowly gained momentum. Fright, a roiling, hot hush was bound to each step but he kept on. His mentor, less than pleased with him most of the time, had still shown him patience. Sloepaw didn't want to lose that. Legs coiled the tom's form for the briefest of moments, head furrowed between his shoulders. Bubbling flames came into view, their sunset savagery slowly breaking down the den that held his mentor and her daughter.

The apprentice's eyes were shut, however shedding the sense of sight didn't protect him from the searing pain that gripped his shoulder. Sloepaw had slipped through a narrow gap in the thick fern walls, one flank catching the blaze.

"Howling- Little- oh shit!" Whatever confidence had spurred his manoeuvre was extinguished immediately, the sight of his own fur tinged with ember and ash. An instinct, of which he had very few, luckily pushed him to roll over and put the fire out. Heaving, he looked at the mollies. "We're gonna be fine. Yeah, definitely." Straining through the urge to cough, Sloepaw kept his breath shallow. He was still absolutely terrified, but now he shared his fear with the others. He could see them- there would be no guilt or uncertainty.

/stuck in the burning apprentice den with @HOWLING WIND and @LITTLE WOLF
​
 
Intense heat thwarted the molly each time she tried to find a way around the branch; weary muscles couldn't jump over the fallen tree branch nor could her sooty body couldn't fit beneath the obstacle. There wasn't away around it.

Instead, she'd effectively been locked out of camp. Though the cats inside were trapped, forced to fend for their lives, the molly wanted to be in there. Standing at the entrance, she glared at the crackling embers.

The molly swayed on her paws. The thought of leaving caused her heart to sink but she needed to survive. She had to find help, save Roe, tend to the wounded..

And ensure her family in the marshes were safe. The fire had originated from ShadowClan. Emotional remnants from her past yearned to fight through the smoke and recklessly charge into the swamplands. That wasn't her home anymore, though.

At the same time, ThunderClan wasn't truly her home either. Especially after Emberstar decided to embrace her nephew's murder with open paws. Dammit, why in the world did she save her? She should have let her burn. Why did she save the ignorant and inexperienced leader? She could have saved ThunderClan from her disastrous and dangerous reign.

Wasn't she a cold-hearted killer now? That's what everyone said. So why, why did she save Emberstar? Her old self would have done that but that version was dead and gone. Right?

Exhaustion ebbed away any true anger. She was too tired for this - too tired for all of this.

Thoughts swirled as her oxygen deprived brain struggled to control her injured body. On charred and throbbing paws, she forced herself toward the river.​
 
Last edited:
Howling Wind expects Sloepaw to listen to her command, to turn and run along with all of his clanmates. But the apprentice doesn't run. He stands his ground, a fiery determination alight in his eyes before he charges right for herself and her daughter. Huddled against the walls of the apprentice's den, she can only watch in silent shock as the dark-pelted tom lunges through the fire. A kittypet, facing off against flames for his clanmates. She had underestimated him.

She immediately looks towards the spot where he had gotten in, and now finds it closed with burning branches that collapsed and covered it. A terrified cry escapes her as she pulls Sloepaw away from the flames, closer to her and Little Wolf. "You mouse-brain," She whimpers, but she doesn't mean it. What she just witnessed was the heart of a true warrior, and she won't be forgetting it anytime soon.​
 
  • Crying
Reactions: DetectLife

His lungs tighten as smoke continues to singe the oak forest, olive eyes wide at the sight.

His home was burning. His home, all he'd ever known, now being diminished to charred branches and tall flames.

Kindleheart isn't swift to leave. No, he dawdles for a moment longer, taking in the sight as fear washes over him. Was this it? Was this the last of his home? The brown tabby tries his best to collect what he can around him, anything he deems important for wherever ThunderClan might go next. He tries to stay for as long as he can, in an attempt to make sure that everyone he can see within the smoke is able to make it out of camp.

But, the flames get worse rather quick - near the camp quicker and quicker with every second that passes - and, just as his lungs do, his eyes begin to burn. A cough rattles through him, and Kindleheart knows that, whether he likes it or not, it's time to leave. ThunderClan begins to fall around him as he races out of camp, an assumption that he's one of the last to leave hanging over him.

It isn't until he's weaving through trees he's known all his life, that he hears the shouts behind him, that he realizes that others are trapped. He skids to a stop, turning to look back to try to see if there's anyone within reach. But, he isn't able to pause for long. Branches within tail-lengths from him fall to the ground, causing him to jump back.

He needed to go. He'd be of no help to those trapped in camp, if he were trapped too. Guilt eats at him as he turns back around, soot-covered paws rushing away from the oak forest.
​
 
Last edited:

Finchcatcher has been through this before.

He's been through flames, has seen the effects of its destruction. The ginger tom has dragged his kit brother out of harm's way, a promise to his father uttered as he carried the soot-tinted scrap of fur away from the barn fire.

Finchcatcher once thought the smell of fire would never escape him, and, for a moment it did. Only for it to return before him now, surrounding him in its grasp on the oak forest.

This wasn't the barn. Wasn't the easy escape he'd had with Cosmospaw. No, the trees of a brand new home were all around him, still all too unfamiliar for him to know which way was which.

The shouts of others fill the young warrior's ears, and he isn't sure if it's the smoke or the panic filling him that's making it hard to breathe.

Everywhere green eyes look, bright orange follows.

He's trapped. Oh stars, he's trapped.

He's killed his brother's friend, left his brother alone in SkyClan, and now he's bound to the same fate as his father, isn't he?

"Help!" The tom shouts as he paces around what little space he has within the flame's confines. A cough follows, eyes wide as he looks for an escape route. His options are limited, a branch just barely above him possibly his only path. It's a risk that he must take, though - and the tom takes what little steps back he can to get a running start.

Finchcatcher leaps upwards for the branch, claws clambering to get a grasp. He's hardly able to balance himself, but makes the attempt to pull himself up further anyway. It's a risk he shouldn't have taken, the young warrior quickly learns, as he tries to steady himself on the branch, to try to make his next move away from the flames.

A crack follows as he sets his paws down, and what's below him gives way. The warrior lets out another shout as he twists his body to try to brace himself, only to ultimately fall into flames. Searing pain burns into the shoulder he lands on - into his fur, into his skin.
​
 
Last edited:
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom