sensitive topics IT FEELS LIKE FALLING ✧ skyclan border patrol

Heavy rain filters through the pines, dripping periodically onto the SkyClanners. It reeks of the smoke drifting from WindClan, though the pattern of the clouds guarantees the moor-cats would be offered no respite for the time being. Seems like this border is the only one being drenched at the moment, Orangestar thinks with a glance to the sky. They're going to start at the ThunderClan end today, and work their way to Twolegplace before returning home. It's a simple enough exercise, though made unpleasant by the rain.

The leader can mark this border based on sight alone due to moons of experience, though it's hard to guarantee any markings would stick in this weather. Even then, the lowering light of dusk makes it difficult to see the right trees and fern-clumps ... ugh, Orangestar can't wait to get home.

She thinks, unbidden, of Cauliflowercurl's warning; of the fox-scent his patrol had spied lingering at the border a few sunrises ago. Orangestar frowns, an agitated flick of her tail accompanying the expression. They aren't even close to the border yet, why would she-

Something collides with Orangestar, a dark shape descending from above as if falling from the trees themselves. She staggers under its weight as the yowls of her Clanmates fill the air, collapsing in turn. Her legs kick out reflexively, claws seeking retribution, though they do not connect. Yet, even worse ... Her poor vantage point, combined with the low light and the reeking rain, guarantees Orangestar does not get a good view of the second fox until it's too late. Her warning, her attempt at a call to get into the trees is lost as sharp teeth find her throat.

"Fox! Get- grk!"

  • // please note the participants of this thread have been decided upon already! please do not post in this unless tagged or otherwise plotted<3 the foxes are npcs and may be controlled by any roleplayer :3
    @SLATE @Cherryblossom @Sorrelsong @Springpaw @Flora @ODDPAW

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    ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | nine lives
    " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."

    — single ; mentoring springpaw
    — speech is in #E3B2A9
    tags | art by pin
 
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Rain is not her least favorite thing in the world. As a matter of fact, Springpaw quite liked it. Listening to it at bed time was a comfort, the pitter-patter of it falling just outside of the den lulling her gently to sleep, the way it ran cool fingers through her thick black fur, and when it stopped all the frogs would come out and sing, plus without rain there would never be rainbows! Today is particularly brutal though. The water gets in her eyes, making it difficult to see in the low-light of dusk. She trudges through the mud with her head down, following Orangestar closely.

These conditions are why she doesn't see it, not at first. Suddenly, there is a dark shape barreling into her mentor and all she can do is watch in shock and horror as a fox knocks her over, as it buries teeth into her throat and as she watches, the light dies in Orangestar's eyes. "ORANGESTAR! " She screams, blue eyes already filling with tears, forgetting, in her panic, that she would come back. Not knowing what to do, her brain too overwhelmed to think, she stumbles forward. She could help she could...

The fox looks up with cold yellow eyes and it meets her own gaze. She watches as Orangestar's lifeless body slumps to the ground, as it stalks forward towards it's easy prey. Springpaw remains rooted to the spot, frozen in fear as she watches the red-furred creature come closer and closer, blood dripping from it's stained jaws.
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    SPRINGPAW SKYCLAN APPRENTICE ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO PUMPKINPAW
    A small she-cat with fluffy black and white fur and bright blue eyes
    Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
 
Cherryblossom is not normally grateful for SkyClan's pines, its stretching, swaying canopy sheltering them from the endless barrage of sunlight, snow, rain, and predators. It is something that has always been there and should always be there, her birth in the pines an inevitability rather than a stroke of luck. And if she hadn't been born here, then, well, she just wouldn't have been a SkyClanner, and therefore would never have missed something she never knew of.

All this to say she has no qualms cursing her homeland even as she walks through it, a silent syllable for each mushy-gushy pawstep she is forced to take. Certainly, the trees could do a better job of shielding them from the rain, or the needle-strewn earth could soak it up faster. Her pelt, normally so silky and feathery, sags with water. If only Ashenclaw had a shorter pelt to give her...if only Twitchbolt hadn't chosen her to go on this patrol...if only someone had the basic wit to look up and see the approaching storm...ugh.

The calico doesn't know whether to shake her pelt and introduce tangles to it, or just let it molder in its drenched state. The only solace here is that her pelt is too heavy to bristle, the clouds too dark to reveal the anxiety needling at her. Again, she is reminded of the deputy. Count the heartbeats...count the heartbeats... She tries to count the space between the lightning and thunder, but none come to interrupt the monotonous misery of the sky. Their absence doesn't make her feel any better.

The warrior opens her mouth to complain—about something or other, she wouldn't remember—when the darkness grows teeth and lunges for them.

Cherrypa—Cherryblossom shrieks. She jolts backwards onto the trunk of the nearest tree, claws fastening into the slippery bark. Closer now, a scent she only knows stale now floods her nose like she's buried her face in it. "F-FOX! FOX!" the calico siren blares. Still clinging to the tree, her gaze swings wildly, a searchlight in the hands of a panicking operator.

Her mother's white coat is easily spied through the rain. The blood too. It spills from the fox's pale jaws and onto the body she once nursed at. "MA!" With her dark coat, Springpaw is infinitely harder to see. But she sees her, standing so near the spotlight of death, like she's already accepted the call of StarClan. "SPRINGPAW! SPRINGPAW, GET UP HERE!" Cherryblossom screams. "SPRINGPAW!"

All she's doing is screaming her head off. A warrior turned pathetic little vole trapped in the jaws of an apprentice too inexperienced to kill it. She is warrior now. She should do something. She can do something. She-she-she twitches a paw-she sprints off the trunk, a howl loosing from her jaws as she barrels towards her mother's killer. She can do it, she can do it, she can do it!

Her claws stretch towards the beast—her scream pierces the storm as something splits her thigh. The warrior twists around, claws lashing blindly at the toothed shadow. No, no, the fox couldn't have slipped around her that fast. What happened? She strikes something fleshy (a nose?) and the blades slide out of her. A set of burning eyes level with her, breath billowing like clouds from a mountain range of teeth. Her breath seizes in her chest.

A second fox.
 
// cw details of death/gore/injuries

"ORA!"

Everything happens so quickly, so much so that Slate is stunned into stiffness. He only manages to stand there, hairs bristling and muscles tensed, jaws drawn agape as the she-cat is barreled down. His veins run icy cold, a chilling realization gripping the lead warrior as the nasty, snarling creature desperately makes for his leader's throat. She manages some strained words before a sickening squelch indicates the worst. His heart surges in his chest, as if it had tripped and fallen off of a mountain. "Shit, shit!" She would... She would be alright, wouldn't she? She's bleeding out! What if she was gone already?

Blood rears in Slate's ears, hefty paws still planted on the ground as chaos ensues. A fox had nearly torn his ear clean off once. They reminded him of dogs. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump goes his heart. Move, ratbrain! MOVE! The lead warrior screams at himself, knowing he will have to suppress his fears for the sake of his own life. For the sake of everyone else here.

The first fox turns on Orangestar's apprentice as a second flame-pelted demon emerges into view. Slate thirsted for the blood of the one that attacked Orangestar, claws digging into the earth and itching to score deep into its neck. He is nearly ready to lunge for it when he sees the other fox snapping its jaws at Cherryblossom's hind limb. A concoction of emotions channeled into an adrenaline-induced burst of energy, a determination to chase these vulpines away from his clanmates. Cherryblossom had just gotten her warrior name — a fox would not be her end, not this soon.

Scared out of his mind and enraged beyond comprehension, Slate charges like an angry bull toward the fox and does what he knows best. Throwing his entire weight against the side of the vulpine, he knocks the damned thing off balance and steals its attention off of Cherryblossom. Dread pierces his chest as its soulless eyes fixate on him now. Nonetheless, Slate emits a menacing hiss.

Slate scrambles back, trying to create some distance between him and Cherryblossom so she could get away. The creature is swift, though; far more than he. A grunt expels as the fox snatches its jaws around his back and manages to lift him off the ground. Down the lead warrior goes, slamming forcefully into the earth and nearly knocking the wind from him. It moves in on Slate like a piece of prey, snagging its teeth onto Slate's floppy ear and thrashing wildly. Pain zaps Slate like a bolt of lightning, his defensive claw swipes tearing against its muzzle but ultimately encouraging the demon to focus on another part of his form. It forces its jaws toward the lower half of Slate's chest now, digging past his thick pelt and puncturing into his skin. The lead warrior squirms and kicks to no avail, a pained yowl erupting from his throat.

  • tldr; slate led the 2nd fox away from cherryblossom and is now getting his ass beat
  • *
    slate
    he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
    a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​
 
// hi! please note that this post contains descriptions of gore, suffocation and death <3 proceed with caution!

Orangestar's warning chokes off into a grunt as the fox's jaws close on, in, through her throat and the sickening noise of crushed cartilage echoes between the trees. She tries to suck in a breath, but it doesn't come fully. Panic makes her eyes wide, chest seizing as if the pressure would let her taste anything but blood.

The fox drops her roughly to the ground, filling her nose with iron and bile, but she can't breathe through it and calm herself because she can't breathe. Whatever the fox has done to her, it's made sure she wouldn't be getting back up without a heavy cost. It reminds the leader of a clumsy killing bite, fangs finding purchase on the wrong side of a piece of prey. Is that all she is to a fox?

Orangestar's last moments are spent scrabbling against the ground uselessly, wheezing with every attempt at a breath and choking on every other failure, her claws refusing to find purchase against the mud. Strength drains from her limbs significantly faster than the blood drips from the punctures across her throat. Spots fill her vision, the pines barely silhouetted against the dim light.

She sees Slate barrel into the second fox - the second? There's two of them, she realises distantly, blinking rapidly even as her eyelids begin to flutter. She can't hear her Clanmates' shrieking over the blood roaring in her ears. Cherryblossom has saved Springpaw, though Orangestar doesn't have the wits about her right now to realise it. Her remaining lives do not cross her mind in this moment; animal panic at the brink of death forces her to gurgle a cry and little more. She loves them, her Clanmates. She'd never really said it out loud, had she? Maybe she should have.

As the world blurs and begins to darken, Orangestar swears she sees a tuxedo pelt move in the tree behind her daughter. Spiderpaw's luminous blue eyes meet her own for a heartbeat, too fast for Orangestar to pray that this means her Clanmates would be saved, and then the leader is gone.

She doesn't return immediately, but the damage this fox has caused Orangestar is unwritten at the expense of the life of temperance.

For the second time in her life, Orangestar sees StarClan. She opens her eyes to starry trees far above her head, boughs familiar yet alien; blurred and faint, as if revisiting a dream she'd had long ago. It's lonely. Quiet. No starry SkyClanners are here to guide her, no StarClanners peer at her expectantly from between the long ferns whispering to the sky. It's just Orangestar on her back for a moment, paws folded across her chest, looking up at starry trees. She closes her eyes again, relishing the quiet aside from the rustling of plant life around her.

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    ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives
    " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."

    — single ; mentoring springpaw
    — speech is in #E3B2A9
    tags | art by pin
 
𓆝 . ° ✦ "Springpaw! Climb!" The order rushes out of Cherryblossom's mouth and into Sorrelsong's her panic amplifying the calico's calls. The rain is heavy, blurring the world around her into a mush of dull brown. Cherryblossom's cries for her mother sink into the mollies heart sharper then any claw or tooth. They dig into her rib cage. Hisses and yowls from her clan mates - Slate? - paint the air in a fear-scent that works it's way under her fur. It takes all her might to still her tail and hold close to the ground. Was she around any trees? Claws broke soft earth.
A faint gurgling sound. Were they by water? No that didn't seem right, this border was not close to River Clan.... Was it? Could they have wandered that far?
The sky illumiated briefly, a brillent battle field erupted into the molly's sight. The rain scattered the light, sending shards of it onto Cherryblossom and Springpaw's temperarory safety. Red bathed Slate's bravery. And the last thing to go - a white lying limp on the ground with a red hue that landed heavy in the molly's belly.
Bile tickled her throat. Orangestar. The light was gone from the sky, but she prayed.... oh how she prayed to Star Clan that it wasn't gone from her leader's eyes. Caution replaced with something more, Sorrelsong sprung from her makeshift hiding place. The twigs stiff enough to snap created a chorus, alerting anything near by the to chocolate cat's location. She didn't care. The world warped, moving and dancing to a tune she was not privey to as her paws found fur.
The contrast of brown and white was easy enough to see despite the dim lighting. The red muddied everything. It was everywhere. Rain splintered off the warrior, the only thing keeping her in this moment. The only thing proving to her that this was real.
Help her.
Half blind, sobs or shivers racking her frame the molly acted quickly. She was no medicine cat, but she saw... she saw what they did to help. Could she help? Oh please, let her be helpful. Please please please. Oh, Star Clan above please.
Nearby grass tore, paws and yowls erupted - was that breathing or wheezing? - Stay with me. Uneven grass met uneven wounds, red gushes and bile threated but Sorrelsong persisted. Pressure. Something crunched. Was that another warrior? Had she hurt her leader?
"Stay - come on please," She was not ready for this. She was a warrior, she should be fighting. Helping her clan mates win. Was she a traitor? Was this weak?
The rain made everything cold.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," The rain swallowed everything but the panic. The fear scent mixed with blood now. Her clan mates blood. Yowling. Screaming.
"Ma!" It sounded almost like bird cry at dawn. Could this all be a nightmare?
"Help." The words rolled over her throat, rough. They tore at her. Coward. She had not raised a claw to their attackers and she cried for help. "Help! Someone! F-"
The fear scent was hers, and any bile in her throat was gone now. Air shoved it's way out of her lungs, bark imbedded itself into her shoulders. She crumpled to the ground, Slate's calls louder now but that could just be the ringing. A tree. She was at the base of a tree. Safety.
A reflexive shake of her head and Sorrelsong hefted her way into the tree. The bark felt more solid then dirt. Her shoulders screamed, the rain was warm on her back now, but only slightly. Was she getting used to it? It used to be so cold. The bark felt more solid then dirt. Her legs screamed a faint memory of something, pain maybe? They shook so hard she slipped. Cold dirt meet her face. Stomping around her. Fear-scent. Blood.
They needed help. Could she help? She was a coward climbing into a tree, what could she do? She was not a fast runner. Hell, she wasn't even a fast climber. Panic swirled in her chest. Her lungs pressed against the bark. It wasn't enough air. Flora. If anyone could, she trusted her friend.
"Flora!" The call came out distorted. "Flora - get help! Run! Camp!" Air was thin, the rain was warm but Sorrelsong, ever the coward, persisted. She called for help as loud as she could, swallowing the rain drops that did nothing to help her raw throat.
Somewhere, lodged between her ribs and her head, Sorrelsong knew she was giving away her location. This was good. That meant the others could run. That meant help could come. Flora - and the others - might have a chance to be safe. Orangestar would be the only victim today.
"Go! Fast Flora! Springpaw, Cherryblossom, run!" Her calls turned into a cater wall, her calls mixing with Slate's. Star Clan let them be safe.


✧ ° . ✶ . ° ✧
  • ooc: She was trying to help Orangestar before getting knocked by Slate/the fox he's fighting. She's calling for help now and not sure about the extent of her injuries >:) @Flora
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    SORRELSONG— SHE/HER・ 43 MOONS ・ WARRIOR OF SKY CLAN・ PENNED BY @KEEEKEEEY!
    Once a rather pretty brown smoked molly, Circe is unnaturally lithe and is missing large chunks of her fur. She has an oddly muscular and feminie build and small paws. — physically easy && mentally easy — Attempting to learn Sky Clan's ways — NPC x NPC : Sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
 
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//depictions of gore (describing oras injuries)

A form that Flora does not recognise collides with Orangestar, that illusion of indestructibility that the Daylight Warrior held for her crumples alongside the body of Skyclan’s Leader. Green eyes widen in horror at the sight of her throat being seized within the jaws of a copper beast. The squelch of flesh torn and muscle shred, voice losing its nerve as she can only bear witness to the cartilage that was ripped apart. Not given the mercy of it being as simple as tearing a leaf, rather watching a poor execution. Unable to do anything but eventually find her voice enough to scream as she watches the beast find whatever prize it sought in it's attempts. Unrelenting viciousness until its muzzle is soaked in blood, the prize sought, seeming to be Orangestar’s life.

She only knows the prize it sought is achieved when she hears the squelch of Orangestar's body being dropped by the fox. Bringing back a vicious replay of the wet sounds of the attack in Flora’s mind. She hopes that it's a quick death. Flora didn't understand that Orangestar could return, assuming that this was it; she hoped that StarClan at least offered the leader mercy. Cherryblossom’s cry brings insight against what was bringing this torment, a fox. She had never been so harshly reminded of how soft of a life the hand of life has dealt her until now. Flora didn’t even register what a fox looked like until now. The most she had seen was their prints or a sliver of a tail. It was a creature that lurked in the shadows to her, to see one so close now was another reminder of how delicate her life had been.

As the chaos ensues around her Flora is reminded of Twitchbolt’s words to her at the Twolegplace border two moons ago, that becoming a Skyclan warrior isn’t just a fun thing to do with your day. As she watches the warriors around her fight tooth and claw against the foxes she is confronted with what it meant by Skyclan being your life. You live and you die for it, she didn’t really comprehend that before but the wake up call had come quick. The maine coon wished the deputy was here right now, being given that title must mean that you’re pretty capable right? Surely he could help right now.

Sorrelsong's voice was like a crack of thunder in this weather to her. Spending a couple of moons training to only hear her voice compared to the forest sounds when she had climbed too far or ran ahead too much assisted in picking it up amongst the current chaos. "Flora - get help! Run! Camp!" the instructions were simple, a final push to assist her on what her course of action should be. “Stay alive- please!” she called out frantically to her clanmates as paws found their footing to move. Turning around and finding a speed with her adrenalin that might even rival a Windclanner. The yowls of her clanmates ring in her ears as she runs towards camp. Hoping that when she returned it would be with help and that another lifeless body wouldn’t be found.

 

The rain buffeted Twitchbolt's face, and he squinted through the mist and the pain of every single ice-cold claw. A little blunt-force against every inch of his face, every detail- but there was carelessness for that in his sprint of aid. Legs burned lightning-struck, blood bubbling magma, but he cared not- he ran like wind, like the flash of the bolt he bore in name, knots wetted by the rainfall. It was only fiery trust that assured him that Flora, Lupinesong and Figfeather were right behind him.

Fear-scent soaked the scenery. It struck him like a slamming fox- it was the red-cloaked reapers he then spotted. A yowling battle-cry split from his maw as he saw the fox looming over Slate, saw Orangestar slumped and still, saw another fox with red smeared all over its jaw ready to take another bite out of her. To eat her, to tear her up- he saw his mothers insides spilled on the ground, a flash white-hot in his memory, branded in tandem with the scent of blood and mutt. Twitchbolt was nauseous, but he kept running- sparked forward, hot breath pluming into the air with the wrinkle of his snarl, lava running through the spittle of his roar.

Open claws found purchase across its chest, and he saw nothing but fury and evil in void-black eyes as the fox lowered its head to look at him. His muscles rattled like a snake's tail, but ferocity overcame his fear- paranoia purged, protectiveness pulsed through him instead. The fox snapped at him, attention grabbed, and Twitchbolt dodged on fleet feet, ducking beneath. Its breath was warm against his ear, rushed away in a near miss.

A chocolate paw burst forward, swiping fiercely against the fox's face- his mentor's words, SkyClan's first deputy, rang like a lion's roar in his mind. Go for the eyes. Even with other cats, he did not fight fair- with foxes, there was no chivalry to be paid. Blood beaded across the fox's eye, and Twitchbolt was foolish to feel but a glimmer of triumph.

It moved like fire on hay. In as much of an instant as he had been winning, the fox grasped Twitchbolt's neck.

Scrambling, half-blind jaws still punctured tender flesh- still sank, still released. Fangs split from him, but sent him spiralling to the ground, shoved away with force- thrown, almost, roughly to lie beside his leader.

The blood on his claws was the fox's. The pool of blood beside him was Orangestar's. Beginning to sprawl around the white collar cradling Twitchbolt's neck was his own- crimson, unmistakeable against white, bawling from a bite wound dangerously close to his throat.

The blood of his parents, in the snow. The blood of his leader, beside him. And everything was- is?- going dark all of a sudden. Vision begins to pinhole, and Twitchbolt takes a gasping breath- takes, took, because this could not be the end.

But Orangestar was dead. And he is dying, he thinks.

In a whispery wheeze, in tumbling blackness, he did not think much of anything anymore.


\ arrived with flora and reinforcements @FIGFEATHER and @LUPINESONG , engaged with one fox, hurt its eye and then paid the price. is currently in a Very Bad Way.
penned by pin ✧
 
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❀‿ She feels like she's running much too slow, her waterlogged pelt and sinking paws making her feel like she's trying to run through sap. Twitchbolt is only a few paces ahead of her, though, but the journey across the territory feels long enough that she has time to agonize over what's potentially in store for them when they arrive at the scene. She feels like an awful, awful warrior for hoping to see one dead cat and no others.

The smell and sounds of the fight rush into her senses a half of a second before they see it, and when she arrives she realizes dimly that there were indeed, two foxes, and along with them, an intrinsic choice to be made. Lupinesong thinks she's aware of some cats up in the safety of the pine branches, but her eyes flit to find the color orange among the brown and green of the forest floor. Her gaze finds Cherryblossom first, in the thick of the fight but thankfully, still with a lot of fight left in her.

In the corner of her eye, she sees a bolt of brown flash toward the other fox (she will realize in hindsight how much red-soaked orange and white colored that nearly unnoticeable lower corner of her vision) and she takes it as permission to leap after the assailant she had her pupils trained on. Lupinesong lunges at the fox gripping Slate in its teeth with a yowl. Perhaps it would have seemed more heroic to say something like "STOP THAT!" or "GO AWAY!". But foxes didn't speak cat and (again, in hindsight) she would have had a cinder's chance in a puddle at sounding anything but silly in that moment.

The young warrior leaps toward the back of the fox to bite at the fox's hind leg, successfully sinking teeth into its ankle and causing it to wheel around to snap razor teeth at her. She leaps backward to successfully dodge the worst of the bite but feels the slice of teeth tearing at skin and flesh near her chest. Luckily, she feels this and nothing deeper than it. Yellow predator eyes fill her head with terror, however, and she only manages to land a couple quick swipes at the beast's muzzle as she backs away defensively from the fox she successfully drew the attention of.

Somewhere to her side, she hears the sound of fighting, explosive and extreme, but she dares not draw her eyes away to glance at Twitchbolt again, at least not yet.

  • OOC: Bit the ankle of the fox attacking Slate and successfully distracted it off of him, now defensively backing up as it focuses on her. Unfortunately has notttt yet noticed that Twitch is in uh oh territory.
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  • lupinekit . lupinepaw . lupinesong
    — trans she/her. 12mo warrior of skyclan. formerlu mentored by dandelionwish, padding after falcongaze
    bobbie x duke. littermate to crowsight & drowsynose. older half-sister of hollykit, lionkit, and candorkit
    — a tall, pretty, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
    — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    — fullbody by pikaihao and funnyguy by pin
    — penned by eezy
 
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Foxes were so much bigger up close.

She’s always known them to be taller than cats, but they towered over Figfeather on their stilts for legs. Long maws growl and snap, their sharp teeth digging into the flesh of her clan-mates. Their paws pouncing so that black paws would pin feline prey beneath them.

Figfeather’s ears pound at the sound of yowls and screams of her clan-mates. The forest turns red as their blood is spilled out onto the forest floor, she knows she must act. Being three-legged, she’d never be the best fighter, but she was smart. If she could out clever a fox she’d be able to play a part in saving this patrol, those who could be saved, anyhow.

As one of the foxes tears away from the collapsed and bloodied deputy the orange she-cat calls for it’s attention with a ferocious hiss. The fox lets loose an ear-piercing whine and rushes forward her. Figfeather would typically not be fast enough to dodge the pounce, but the fox has a bloodied eye, it’s disoriented and growing clumsy. As she leaps away she rakes her claws down its shoulder.

Figfeather does her best to keep to the side of the fox’s poor eye, if it wasn’t able to find her and she was careful with her attacks she’d be able to bully it off. Or at the very least… keep it from harming her other clan-mates any further. ”I’m over here, fox-breath!”
  • tldr; distracting the blinded fox and doing her best to out smart it. Slowly leaping in to give it minor scratches in hopes that continuing to injure and confuse it will send it off or at least distract it from causing further harm
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Mate to Fantastream
    » Sire to Sangriakit & Coffeekit
    » Mentoring Wolfpaw
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
Orangestar wakes to the sound of thunder. Far from the peaceful quiet of StarClan, she is greeted by the reek of blood that is not her own and the unmistakeable sound of combat. She takes a wheezing breath, air filling her lungs, and coughs at the irritation that promptly replies from her injured throat. She winces at the sharp ache that follows, bloodied fur itching from wounds that bleed sluggishly now. She parts her jaws in a gasp, surprised and confused to catch Twitchbolt's answering scent so close. What happened? Why was he here? Her ear twitches at a familiar snap, Figfeather's voice filling her with relief.

She pulls herself to unsteady paws, battle-breath returning both energy and clarity to her in one fell swoop. She coughs, stale blood flecking across the muddied earth before her. Figfeather engages the fox closest and so Orangestar moves towards the second feline shadow - Lupinesong? StarClan, that is braver than she had ever anticipated from the young she-cat - in hopes that the show of solidarity would be the final blow in this fight.

Were foxes creatures of any intelligence aside from killing, were the forest around them anything but bathed in long dusk-shadows and occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning, Orangestar might have thought she saw a flash of fear in beady eyes. Between feline hisses and ragged breaths, the two beasts yip to each other as if conversing. It must be as such, because with a final halfhearted attempt at attacking Oddpaw, the blinded fox turns tail and runs with its compatriot close at its heels.

Orangestar coughs again. Her voice is a croak, quiet amid the rain as she turns to the two she-cats. In the absence of lightning and the time that has passed since her death, the forest around them is nearly pitch. "Thank you ... need to get to camp. Help."

She moves towards the nearest slumped figure in hopes that she would receive aid in carrying them, heart seizing at the scent of Twitchbolt mingling with so much blood. Her deputy. She does not want to lose him so soon. Not to this. Not like his parents.

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    ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives
    " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."

    — single ; mentoring springpaw
    — speech is in #E3B2A9
    tags | art by pin
 

By the time the foxes retreat Figfeather gained several nips and a few full-blown bites across her body. She can feel her body grow warm as blood oozes from the wounds and begin to trickle onto the stained red floor of the forest. She was hardly in the worst state in comparison to her clan-mates, a majority of them sat dazed and slumped to the ground. Honestly- she’s not even positive the deputy will make it back to camp, she eyes his body wearily.

Orangestar has risen bringing great relief to Figfeather, though she is certain it had come at the cost of one of her lives. The tabby stares at her for a moment as if she was a StarClanner that had descended from the heavens herself. It never failed to amaze her the magic of their ancestors, though a strange set of grief for the leader’s fallen life grows heavy in her heart. They were one pawstep closer to losing her for the final time.

Weakly Orangestar instructs for Lupinesong and Figfeather to help. She moves to follow the white and orange she-cat over to one of their many injured clan-mates. With only three legs, Figfeather would not be the best at assisting in this task as her balance was already compromised. Still, she could do what she could to assist cats so long as they leaned on her sturdy side. ”…Let’s get us all home.”
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Mate to Fantastream
    » Sire to Sangriakit & Coffeekit
    » Mentoring Wolfpaw
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing