sensitive topics i'm kinda outta luck . ghostwail

[lichenstar]

CW for thread; violence, blood, minor depictions of gore, implications of panic attack

Wandering down the well trodden paths proved to be a constant to her routines... Even though there was no patrol this morning with her name on it, Lichentail felt it was her due diligence to at least wander around the borders anyways to make extra sure that nothing was missed. Unlike the norm however, her mind wandered... There were a lot of small things that kept happening in RiverClan that added up to be a huge problem. It incited a nervousness that was unbecoming of her, one that gave a degree of mental exhaustion she wasn't familiar with handling. Pale eyes staring blankly at the ground just in front of her paws, the warrior barely recognized where her absent thoughts were taking her-

Ashpaw. Temporary camp. Sunningrocks lost. Ashpaw. Temporary camp. Sunningrocks lost.

A mantra of failure on a dismal repeat, one adding up after the other as the loop grew longer and more frustrating. Lichentail was not a fan of failure, not that she suspected anyone really was but for her it was just.... unacceptable. It wasn't an option.

Pausing in her tracks, the blue point's ears perked for the first time in the last several moments- a rustling nearby? Glancing up to investigate her surroundings, the molly crept forward with intense focus that had been lost to her before now... Careful.... careful.... Poking her head through some sparse brush, she sniffed at the air cautiously.

A loud fluttering of wingbeats, a bird alerted to her presence- it flew off in a fearful hurry and the RiverClan cat let out a small, relaxed sigh. Just a bird...

@GHOSTWAIL ​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

Perhaps it was the anger of seeing a traitor's son limp back into camp that got to her first - the creeping vines of fury curling into her mind at the thought of that little brat coming away from a battle unscathed. Maybe it had been the two defeats that WindClan had suffered in such a short time. Maybe it had simply been the lack of proper stimulation, but Ghostwail was feeling wound up. Her muscles bunched together at random intervals, as if her body were naturally responding to the scent of prey, though the only tickle her nose had in camp was the lingering smell of failure and fools. She needed to be out, lest her next catch would be the next tunneler to pass her by and while she had little qualms about such an event, Sootstar would no doubt find the dwindling of her most prestigious rank most unfortunate.

Ivory paws carried her slight frame across the moors with a mad-woman's fever. There was little method to this madness, simply running to burn off energy, a burst of pure aggravation made manifest into speed. It was, in a way, freeing to be able to move over the moorland as if she had wings. Her WindClan training had certain paid off in some ways...

After what felt like miles, moorland sloped into craggy ferns, beech roots prickling her path. The river loomed large, just beyond her sight-line, though the unmistakable crash of wind and wave was ever-present. The phantom of WindClan wrinkled her nose at the fish-and-folly scent that invaded her nostrils. The cats who lived among this must be scent-blind, she decided.

A flutter of motion caught her attention, a bird upon the wind, taken flight to- oh. Oh, ho-ho.

A catch. Came the wicked drawl within her mind. A younger cat, a smaller cat, all pointed extremities and rounded ears. RiverClan's youth flaunting their temporary win along the banks of their fallen foe - smug, spiteful, all too sure of their own putrid victory. Burning eyes followed its movements, a sort of hunger controlling her body and claws now. She dropped into a hunter's crouch, ears pinned back to her head. A blue point.... a black point.... a silver point. Her vision wobbled, past, present, and mental mixing. She saw the traitor in this cat's place, her scarred chest a target. Oh, how pleased Sootstar would be if she were to be presented with the traitor's pelt, a token of Ghostwail's fealty. The praise would be sweet. She creeps forward, back legs bunching under her (RiverClan's success would turn to ash in their scale-cut mouths) - her eyes narrowed, solely trained on her prey (perhaps they would be subsumed into WindClan's empire, if Sootstar granted them mercy)

A flutter of motion, a bird's swift, naive wing queued her ascent. Silent, steady, sure, she leapt, bursting from the underbrush as quick as a whip, her claws outstretched and jaws aimed directly for her prey's throat...​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[lichenstar]

She could take solace in the fact that RiverClan was on its path towards success and recovery again- if nothing else proved it, then the battle on the bridge seemed enough. Cloudedsky had certainly fought like more than a wounded animal, decorating Lichentail with several new scars and frustratingly sore injuries. Sitting around and idly waiting for time to pass wasn't an option and though craning her neck around to look for any other prey stung, hunting offered some peace of mind. She hadn't forgotten the cold scowl from Smokethroat at her failure to disarm the trap that had nearly caught Catfishpaw by the neck and didn't think she ever would forget it either. It determined her all the more to prove her worth... she wondered if he had been proud of their great success recently. If seeing those bloodied WindClan rabbits run home crying had given that grouch some joy for once.

Cicadastar and Smokethroat... certainly an odd pair.

Letting out a small hmm of contemplation, she supposed it wasn't worth focusing on too intently. Another bird took off into flight and Lichen let out an irritated sigh that her wandering mind had cost her another catch. Birds were her favorite... she was good at it. (The pain in her chest reminded her that jumping was still a ways off. Time was the greatest virtue when it came to healing.)

Like a bird with a broken wing herself, flight was practice impossible. Though she could hear the sound of rustling and watched as another avian took off towards the sky, it hadn't even crossed her mind what else might be lurking there. The sudden stinging sensation and weight of another mass equally her size practically dragged her off her paws, flailing with alarm as panic sent shivers cascading down her limbs. Confusion asked questions in loud, quick succession in her head.

How hadn't she heard it? Why hadn't she noticed.... That feeling of shock and alarm made her forget her own form could rise to action. Eyes narrowing with a righteous sense of fury, the blue point gave a low growl as she regained her sense of self. Looking out the corner of her eyes at her assailant, the sheer lack of compassion in the gaze that looked hungrily back at her was enough to make terror seize her heart. That was not the look of someone that wanted to fight you... that was the look of someone that wanted to eat you.

Lifting a paw (practically shaking in her own skin), she pressed it firmly against the other's chest, pushing at them in hopes of release. Had this cat really just sprinted across border-lines to attack her? The reek that followed in the breeze said this was WindClan... Of course it was. Only WindClan would roam around like snakes in the grass to jump at those with their backs turned. Cowardly... cruel...

"You rat-brained little-" An insult largely interrupted by the strong grip at her throat that only grew more earnest in its intent, it was dizzying how strong the pale-furred molly's grip was, prompting her to more insistently swat at her chest to force her to let go, dimly aware of how uncoordinated and uncertain her strikes were aimed.​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

Teeth connected with fur, saliva wetting silver - a dog's vicious eagerness as shown through a feline's facade. The thing beneath her swats at her chest as a kit would, tantruming and fuming with all the resistance of wet cardboard. The phantom is stronger, oily claws sinking into their catch's shoulders - stay. Badumpdadumpbadump goes the heartbeat under her tongue, a frantic metronome promising bloodshed of the cruelest variety should she just bite down... Another swipe connected with her collarbone, the familiar sting of claws plucking the thrumming chords of adrenaline in her chest. Crimson wells against dingy white, pinkening the spot above where the beast's heart should be.

"If your clan fights as well as you, little fish, then it is falsehood and betrayal that got you your victory." She practically coos in thought, the vaguest hint of a wicked snarl crawling into her typical monotone. "Tell me, little fish, how do you think the stars will treat your folly when I send you to them?"​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[lichenstar]

Though her paws touch and drag through what was a pristine white pelt, the dappling of red does nothing to encourage their freedom. It is as in vain as those same birds fluttering on the ground, trapped between poised paws that grabbed their wings to pin them to the ground. A killing bite so easily in reach... but it is not quite the same; toying with your food something any elder might scold you for.

Paws dirtied with the feeble attempts to see herself as a spiteful sparrow, one quick to peck at idle toes and flutter wildly into the sky to see their hope ascend towards the clouds- it was a testament to the futility of it. The low, gravelly voice that responded in taunting, careful words was one that offered no remorse or pity. The claws that dug into already tender shoulders- another feather plucked.

And though she thought herself more a bird than a fish, her floundering about like a trout lost for breath at the shore seemed almost fitting as she was chided with that moniker. A question baited like a worm on a string sat in front of her, prompting an answer that had no satisfactory answer. To assume StarClan might show her some sort of mercy for the dedication and honor she put into her work meant little- she didn't want to see those stars yet. It provided no comfort that they hung up there watching when the timing felt wrong.

Plucked.

Yanked from the river with a hooked claw and laid bare before that open blue sky. "It isn't me," she wheezed, feeling her throat tighten despite her yearning to sound more brave or certain, "That gets to decide that." At the very least.. she would not give the satisfaction of a frightened plea... Would not sob to the clouds about how it wasn't fair, that it wasn't meant to be now. Those sinister, colorless eyes tinged pink only by the blood that ran through them stared back like the water did every moon. Tainted with RiverClan's losses.

This wasn't new. Someone was always a sacrifice in a never-ending war.​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

"No, it isn't..." A quiet contemplation settles over the forefront of the she-cat's mind, a weighing of the scales. StarClan would no doubt punish this useless girl, as they would the rest of RiverClan for their injustice against her sovereign - the star's champion, chosen phoenix of the moors as she was. And yet still, there was the matter of her majesty herself. How would the queen of the moors respond to the mutilation of her enemies without the explicit order of execution dripping from her lips? Kittypers, rogues, and loners were of little consequence - they did not hold a candle to the greatness of the clan and therefore were free to be decimated at will. Other WindClanners that did not seek the furtherance of the empire could be disposed of, if the proper precautions were taken so as not to cause a mass panic. Rivals, however...

There was surely some judgement, trial, or retribution that must be upheld. A great example must be made of those that defied the will of the queen. A great example that a pitiful warrior along the side of the river could never reach. Black, silver, blue, though the points ran together in her mind, they would all have to answer for their crimes separately and at the paw of the sovereign and not her hound.

Aggravation ripples up the phantom's spine and she gnashes her teeth together. Badumpbadumpbadump goes the heart beneath her stinking frame, badumpbadumpbadump, it taunts. Another day, perhaps. Another day would come and that day, she will be able to taste the scaled heart-flesh of a RiverClan cat. Today, however, she will settle for a smaller morsel...

She snaps her head up, aiming to close her jaws around one of her captured's ears, looking to rend cartilage from the pinna - perhaps that would abide her bloodlust until her queen gave her royal decree.​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[lichenstar]

For a split second she thought that maybe she'd solved some secret riddle the two of them were sharing. Her answer got her a few breaths of peace, ones without the certainty of her demise staring her in the face. Like a kitten that had caught a leaf, shortly to release it betwixt tiny claws as nothing more than a game. She was okay with being that little leaf... Free to disperse back into the breeze after a brief moment of terrifying harassment.

The thoughtful agreement that comes back rings hollow in her ears, aware of how there is no ounce of satisfaction in the honeyed voice that grumbles in reply. It is a teasing thing, that reply. Suggesting they might be on the same understanding, that they could laugh and walk away as mutual enemies but not as foes.

The heart beats that hung between speech and action felt like they droned onwards towards eternity. The ringing her ears came just as loudly in the silence as it did in deafening roars, making the fur on her spine bristle from where it ground into the dirt painfully.

The next thing she could tell where the birds in the sky above her, just beyond where Ghostwail's head had been obscuring the cloudy atmosphere above. They flew by so lazily... without a bother to them... Completely at peace to go where-ever they wanted. The tingling sensation at her ear tip forced her mind into cognition again-

She'd bit her. That's where her head had gone in order for those feathery muses to flutter through view. It took longer than she expected for the actual where to reach her. Just as quickly as the realization came did she pull away out of frightened instinct, reminded of what a great mistake that was when the tingling turned to searing burn. A hot fire at her ear tip and something like bark being pried from a tree.

A twist in her belly offered companionship to a paw twisting to smack at the assailant's face, hoping that in whatever brief glimpse of victorious blindness she found was brought to a quick end with the reminder of painful claws.​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

Claws rip at the corner of her mouth and pull, tearing at skin and fur. The phantom rears back, at first a stumble before instinct catches her. She straightens, stepping away from her victim, crimson dripping down her face, a joker's grin etched into her cheek. A laugh emanates from her then - a mirthless, awful sound. "Run, little fish, while you can..." She runs her tongue over her lip, testing the fresh blood of the assailed that mixed with her own. Run while you can, while the queen weighs your penance, while the queen allows you mercy.

"I know your scent, your fear and your blood. Your river can't hide you from me, it can only drown out your screams and wash your flesh from my teeth. But don't squander your freedom while it is allowed. I know your scent, your fear and your blood. Your river can't hide you from me, it can only drown out your screams and wash your flesh from my teeth. And when this river runs cold-" She spits out the ear-tip that had gotten caught in her teeth, that jagged grin creeping up her haunting, skullish face. "I will be waiting for it to wash you away as well."

A rustle pulls her burning gaze away from her prey and in two shakes of a leaf, she is gone, her skeletal figure kicking up leaves and dust as she returns to her sovereign, only a faint trail of scarlet and her bloodied catch left in her wake.​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[lichenstar]

There is a split second where the impact of her paw across the other's maw surprises her, not having expected it to actually free her from such a malicious grip. Rolling as quickly as her own body would allow, she could feel the warmth of blood drip down her ear, down the side of her cheek... It didn't matter, the fur on her spine stood on end even still, tail puffy with alarm as she scrambled in the dirt to put some distance between them.

That creeping, haunting voice responded with only an ominous whisper, a threat that the waters she claimed as refuge would only serve to further her destruction some day. Growling in reply, the molly did her best to seem less frightened by those hissing words than she was, not daring to pause as she hurtled away from the other back into the safety of RiverClan's deeper territory...

You won't catch me off guard next time...

That would have to be good enough.

// end ! tyty so much <333​