camp IT'S ALL BLOWN AWAY ★ MINI MEETING

[Flamestar]

〔✦〕"Thunderclan."

Her fur ruffles as the breeze that carried the storm swirls through the camp. The heavy rainfall that had tormented them during their battle had lifted to a light drip, the clouds growing lighter as the tail end of the storm started to move away from their forest. Blood dribbled down her ear onto her cheek, as well as along the new tear from her shoulder to her neck. With each paw step she fought the urge to not wince, but she refused to show how bad it throbbed. Not when there were clanmates down below with much greater injuries. The ground was littered with bodies, her clanmates all wore suits of crimson. It was a battle of life or death, a battle against rogues. Many of the corpses were those of Skyclaw's followers, but there were loyal Thunderclanners down there as well. Cobwebtail.. Another one of Howlingstar's kits had joined her in the stars. She had never doubted his loyalty, he had died a hero. Her gaze scanned the clearing, finally resting on her son's figure. He stood with his nose touching another's pelt, one that made her gut twist with agony as she realized who's spotted body lay limp along the ground. "Sparrowpaw..." her voice was barely above a whisper as she gazed down at her son's body. Every part of her screamed to go down there, to bury her muzzle into his figure, to scream and curse Skyclaw's spirit, to go down there and tear her claws into the tyrant's deceased body...but she needed to stay up here. To address the clan.

To be a leader.

"Skyclaw is dead."

Her chin lifts away from Sparrowpaw's body, and back to the clan as a whole. It felt strange standing up here, with everyone staring at her. At one point in her life, she would have panicked at this feeling...but now, standing on the Highrock, she could see her clanmate's gazes. Alert, tired, hurt, grieving, wide-eyed with fear...they needed someone to look to, to bring them through this. I will keep my promise Howlingstar. I will keep your clan safe. She could do this, she was certain of it. "From this moment forward, every follower of Skyclaw is now exiled from Thunderclan. If they are spotted on the territory, they are to be killed on sight." A heavy punishment, but one she deemed fitting. They had already proven where their loyalties lie, and that they weren't afraid to kill for what they believed in.

"We will hold a vigil for Cobwebtail and Sparrowpaw tonight. Those that are in need of medical attention, please see Gentlestorm. Those who are clear, we need to start digging graves. Cobwebtail and Sparrowpaw's will be dug first. After their's is finished, we need one outside the cemetery. The traitors will be buried together." She turned her gaze to the brown tabby that had ended Skyclaw's life. He had lost another brother today, so she did not want to overload him. Instead, she turned to Burnstorm. "Could you oversee this?" He undoubtedly wanted to catch up with his family who had stayed behind, but there would be time for that soon. The clan was reunited and safe once more.

even on my weakest days ( I get a little bit stronger ) //

• ooc. this takes place immediately after the uprising thread
• FLAMEWHISKER —— deputy of thunderclan , mentoring none . storm x lily . littermate to nala, smokey, and nemo ✦ penned by icey !
  ✦ afab / she/her / 36 moons & ages every 20ᵗʰ
  ✦ widowed / heterosexual / closed to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— difficult in battle
  
  ✦ "speech", 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
  ✦ tags — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
• 

//

• 
  

  a longhaired red tabby with low white and green eyes. flamewhisker's fur is a vibrant hue of red, riddled with thick classic tabby markings. her fur is medium in length, and she has a large, feathery tail. her chest, belly, tail tip, and her paws are dipped white. flamewhisker's eyes are a dark, deep shade of green. her shoulder has a large scar on it from a fight with a dog. she also has a shredded ear from a disagreement with a loner during her time alone before joining thunderclan. on particularly cold days, or sometimes before a major weather change, she will walk with a slight limp from her shoulder injury.

​

 

[tigerwing]

Her breathing had evened. The storm has ended. A quiet hush fell over now, and Tigerpaws heart still thudded in her chest. She moved herself from the ground, wincing, as her shoulder felt peeled open, her wrist on the same side barely touching the ground sending pain up the bones that showed themselves taughtly through her skin.

A jutting skeleton, eyes swollen, before finally emerging from the safety of the den as Flamewhisker called. Her whiskers twitched, her eyes holding grief. She had came in strong- but seeing the death was different. There was no painting this in pretty roses and flowers- it was cruel. Bodies lay mauled; clanmates, friends were injured.

But Skyclaw was dead.

There was heaviness in the air, and tension seemed to ebb off of Flamewhisker as she spotted a particular body. Flamewhisker had lost her child, and guilt ran colder through Tigerpaw. Must she learn to kill? To.. to help avenge Flamewhiskers and so many of her clanmates losses? But how? How can she learn to do that?

She didn't want to see gentlestorm- she didn't want to be a part of those that needed help, she wanted to be useful. But how was she supposed to when her stomach coiled in sick at the sight of the bodies, and her wrist could barely support her? Would lying help them any?

A soft sigh escaped the torbie, dipping her head and taking a moment to respect her clanmates that died. She was relieved to hear that Wildheart remained alive, and that running did not cause another death but Flamenoses. Though, guilt still clawed her stomach and heart.

​

 

[Softsight]

Carrionshriek felt heavy, and not just from the wetness that was weighing down her pelt. Skyclaw was dead, killed by Raccoonstripe, and Flamewhisker was addressing the Clan now as she rightfully should, as leader of ThunderClan. There was an undoubtedly quiet mood lingering around the camp, and as Carrionshriek's gaze flicked over Raccoonstripe, she recalled an interaction they'd had when they'd been younger - he looked as somber, if not more, than he had then, and Carrionshriek couldn't blame him.

Dragging herself closer to where Flamewhisker was speaking, Carrionshriek's throat stuck, her eyes falling on Flamewhisker's fallen son, Sparrowpaw. Sparrowpaw, who had said that Carrionshriek resembled his long-gone mother when he'd first arrived at camp so many moons ago. Sparrowpaw, who should have had a chance at becoming a proper warrior and live a prosperous life - it had been cruelly stolen from him by Skyclaw and his followers, who Flamewhisker now declared were exiled.

Carrionshriek was prepared to dirty her already-soaked coat with dirt when Flamewhisker placed Burnstorm in charge of the digging of graves. She'd never done it before, but she was certain that it wouldn't be the last time, now. The cruelty of Clanlife had shown itself again and again, and there were always going to be graves to be dug and vigils to be had. Carrionshriek could only hope that she could be of help each time it happened.

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

• !

• 

• CARRIONSHRIEK ✩ warrior of thunderclan, eleven moons
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.

​

 

[leafhusk]

flamewhisker's voice calls to her clan. it's eerily calm, authoritative, and leafhusk swears she hears silverpelt chime from above. her head raises from staring dead-eyed at the ground (too soon? her paws are still beside yewflame. her claws dig into mud), blinking tiredly at their rightful leader. blood stains the her pelt, blends in so seamlessly with the tabby stripes that it might as well be a cloak.

she takes a look around the remains of camp. sparrowpaw and cobwebtail, two cats that were unrelated, but shared something in common; raised by one of the clan's leaders. current and former, sides of the same coin, their deaths feel oddly symbolic in some way. hopefully, however they fell, was painless. she feels bad to only notice now.

all she wants is to curl up on her bed of moss, then sleep for about five sunrises. as the adrenaline finally wears off, it is replaced with searing pain all over her body. crimson stains her muzzle, face, body… it drips from fresh claw marks, mixing into the mud. yewflame attacked her in a wild frenzy, however she will live. honestly, she is more concerned about potential scarring— her beautiful coat of sepia, ruined. leafhusk sways, sitting back on her haunches. she will limp to gentlestorm's den when she is dismissed.

⚘

 

[DEERPAW.]

Deerpaw felt tired, drained. Ears twitched from their flattened place, one of them flicking towards Flamewhisker's voice. Skyclaw was dead. Good riddance. He lets tired dark - ringed eyes dart up towards his new leader of Thunderclan. He kept his left eye closed, trying not to get any spilled blood in it from his ear. His body had been soaked in filth - stained muck, and his once-clean paws and muzzle had been saturated in blood. Blending into his dark fur so easily, it might as well be a crimson cloak— just for him anyway.

He lets his head crane up from its haunched position, surveying the aftermath of the battle. Tail twitching through the ripped, upturned chunks of grass and dirt. He then pauses at the sight of the dead Sparrowpaw. A crimson - soaked muzzle screwed up in revulsion at the prone, bloodied corpse of a fellow apprentice. He wasn't all that close with the apprentice at all, sure the other tom was friendly when he first arrived at camp by the scruff. But... he didn't really get to know him. At all. What a wasted opportunity.

Turning his attention away from the dead body of a former clanmate, he lets his tired gaze fall to his dirty, tinted paws with a disgusted look on his face. He feels itchy all over, he really doesn't like it. He wants to dunk himself in the river and wash off the sticky traitor's blood and the mud off of his body. Vile, nasty... All he wants to do is curl up in his nest and sleep for about three moons. Deerpaw lets out a huff escape his maw, as he lets his paws plant firmly into the ground as he listens to Flamewhisker drone on.

﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑮𝑶𝑨𝑻'𝑺 𝑬𝑮𝑮 ᯓ★ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃

•  

• temp deerpaw reference

  

• ( I-I CAN'T H-HANDLE IT! ) ˚₊‧꒰ა ♰ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ DEERPAW. ╱ thunderclan apprentice
  ⸝⸝ amab ; HE / HIM ; 9 MOONS OLD & AGES EVERY 26TH.
  ✶ homosexual, ace / not actively looking / open to puppy-crushes
  ✶ a scrawny longhaired black/dark ginger tortoiseshell tom with low white and hazel eyes.
  ✶ thoughts ; "Speech, 4d4344" ; attacks only
  ✶ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ✶ smells like mud &. damp earth musk
  

  all opinions are ic! he's morbid and he sucks </3 ♱

  
  → biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

​

 

[bayingpaw]

for the third time in bayingkit's short life, she watches a new face ascend highrock. for the third time, she hunkers down and watches as sunlight halos the face of their leader in the thistlethorn crown of thunderclan royalty. this time, it is no longer her kin that takes residence upon that mighty stone . . no longer chocolate flowing caramel beneath the heady morning but instead, there is fire upon fire and bayingkit closes her eyes in agonized response. flamewhisker's voice is clear and steady and firm when she says skyclaw is dead. the still - unruly side of her wants to sniffle, to yelp that everyone is dead! but she can only curl further in on herself where she is curled near cobwebtail's cooling side. she rests rumpled chin on an unmoving, silver paw and watches as flamewhisker addresses them in a way she can only hope — pray — will make everything better.

between them, there is destruction. there are spattering of red the color of her tabby coat, dirt still damp with rain and blood and fur she cannot place . . bodies lie in quickly - formed nests, sloppily stitched netting of moss and lavender nestling the bodies of their fallen. of cobwebtail and sparrowpaw . . of darkthistle and briarsong and skyclaw. a mangy tail comes to wrap around her side, concealing hereditary striping as if guilty, as if pitted at the stomach for the way she feels a burst of mourning at the sight. her nose tucks into fur that no longer smells of her uncle, only stinking, disgusting herbs and the awful leftover scent of tacky blood clinging to newly groomed fur. a sniff tells her she's crying before she notices the damp along her cheeks, the deep and nasty turmoil in her chest growing no harsher nor lighter to warn her of the quiet sob before it comes.

flamewhisker says to dig graves, and it only makes her weep harder ; into cobwebtail's fur, pressing her head down before sucking it up. she sniffs hard, fixes her features into harsh resolve and lefts her chin to where she hopes burnstorm is. her blurry eyes still spill with tears despite a hard - set frown of frustrated determination, " i want t - to help. " dig. she could dig, she liked to dig. if that would help make things better, she could dig, " cannn i, please? "

☽ ˚ ｡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𓃥 【 𝑰𝑻𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 】

• i.
• 
• " speech "
• BAYINGKIT——————— SHE / HER, KITTEN OF THUNDERCLAN. NIGHTBIRD xx RACCOONSTRIPE, SISTER TO TWILIGHTKIT, TIGERKIT, STORMKIT & LIGHTNINGKIT. 3 MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE DISRUPTED SOIL & WET FUR. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  a large, unsightly black tabby kitten.
  
  mongrelish, standing all thistlethorn fur and bared teeth, bayingkit would be thought roguesblood if not for the dogtooth crown she uncomfortably bears. a hereditary haunting lies in the shag of ornate black striping and long limbs that do not yet suit her wide, slouching shoulders ; her fathers daughter, laced in dredge and filth moreso than he'd ever been. a constant, incessant need to make herself small forms in hunched spine and weary, whale - eyed suspicion, communicating mostly in rumbling growls.. bayingkit tends to hold herself with a tuck tailed and trembling livewire of feral volatility.
  

  teething, easily frustrated with her lack of vocal skill and highly reactive. prone to biting, swatting and general moodiness it is highly encouraged to correct. powerplay is allowed for disciplinary swipes, scruffing and general redirection.

​

 

[GENTLESTORM]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — The war has ended and Gentlestorm found himself in the arms of Doepath, his eyes half opened as he blinks away the subtle pain but it's less so when the fawn-like molly had been treating his wounds. He can hear the shuffling of paws as well as soft hushed words followed by a vibrant tabbied pelt, Gentlestorm's ready to close his eyes once more so he may sleep for longer but notices the familiar pelt of someone that shouldn't be in his den. That thing isn't welcomed here... Why hadn't anyone ripped the life out of Wrathpaw? His lips drawn back as the large tom begins to snarl in a wolven-like manner and his fur begins to prickle in every direction, the urge to bite and harm returning at full force as his claws dig into the ground underneath him. The only thing that manages to keep him muzzled is the form of Doepath draped over his own or he would've lunged by now with whatever energy he had left.

A wise healer would put his head down so that he may rest and recover from his wounds but at the moment, he's in the mindset of a survivor and a gladiator ready to barnish his sword once more despite how exhaustion pulls at his form. The former warrior slips carefully from Doepath's smaller form before limping in the direction of Wrathpaw already tempted to grab the other by the scruff and drag the plague out from his sanctuary but the silvery tom sharply turns to the sound of Flamewhisker speaking as he limps to the mouth of his den trying to ignore the stings and budding pain from his front legs. He pushes through the curtains of his home before noting all of those present as Flamewhisker makes the announcement that Skyclaw is dead.

Good riddance... but this doesn't satisfy him as he tries not to wobble from where he stands, Gentlestorm ignores the concerned glances in his direction knowing that he could topple over at any moment but he stands there out of spite and hatred for Skyclaw's wolves.... He wants the wolf out of his den. "Th... there's... there's one of t... them... in... my den..." Gentlestorm begins in a hoarse voice as he shifts around his weight so he doesn't fall over and his snout wrinkles as a growl tumbles out from his throat, his body trembles but he doesn't know if its from the small pains that jab at him or the anger he feels. "W... wh... WHO... PUT WRA... WRATHPAW IN MY DEN." The medicine cat suddenly shouts at those gathered as his earthy eyes try to seek out the one who put the snake in his nest.

This seems to be the angriest that the tom has been but his attention turns to a small group of warriors as he snaps "Get hi... him out of there..." His fangs ache as his jaw clenches, Gentlestorm flattens his ears against his skull and his claws dig into the earth as if trying to ancher himself so he wouldn't fall yet his body continues to wobble. "I d... don't care if he's hurt... get him... out... now..." His voice growing softer from having strained it and he let's out a shaky breath ignoring the way that his clanmates stared at him... What a sight he must be to them... his silvery pelt stained by blood belonging to himself and Darkthistle with new patches of cobwebs on his body.

MORNING & EVENING, I FELT LIKE I WAS GRIEVING ᨒᨒᨒ UNTIL I SAID FUCK YOU

• ooc — feel free to be the warriors he spoke to & anyone's free to provide a shoulder for grandpa to lean on cause he's about to fall

• 

  MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
  ✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
  ✦ 58 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ widowed mate of little wolf ; currently interested in no one
  ✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking

​

 

[ORANGEPAW.]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- he's never seen him so angry. he's never seen him so hostile. and even now, even when he knows he trusts him more than anyone, he can't help the way his heart hammers against his chest. he can't... breathe. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying hard to catch his ever fleeting breath, which only increasingly gets harder and harder. i don't know what to do... it was... i mean i... what was i supposed to do? he doesn't want to believe that he was supposed to leave wrathhowl there. his blood is still on his paws. it's orangepaw's fault in the first place, at least in this particular case. he was going to be in trouble, wasn't he? but his mom said he had to help whoever needed to be helped! she always said his best quality was his kindness and he knows it is. so why does it feel like it's so wrong in this moment to be the one who was kind enough to put wrathhowl in the medicine cat's den?

"... I'm sorry, d–'

he is quick to catch himself, furrowing his brows and shuffling his feet. he's panicking, and he can't seem to calm down at all. he doesn't want to be in trouble. stars, he just wanted to help. why does this feel so wrong?

"'m sorry gentlestorm... I put him there... he got hurt because of me... I shouldn't have– i just wanted to make it right. he can have the herbs i was supposed to. he csn have my nest. my prey. everything. just don't kick him out yet... at least... until he heals...?"

orangepaw closes his eyes tightly. he is caught in the middle of something he shouldn't be. he's just trying to be the cat that he was supposed to be. kind before all. kindness first. couldn't he just do that? he made a promise. he can't break his promise. he just can't. i will always be kind first, mama. just like you said.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── NO USE LOOKING OUT ⋅❁⋅ ITS WITHIN THAT BRINGS THAT LONELY FEELING ──┐‎

• 

• 
  ORANGEPAW ✩ he/they, apprentice of thunderclan, 10 moons.
  ⭃ rather large polydactyl orange tabby with white markings, green eyes, a broken left hind leg, and scars on his face and right side
  ⭃ npc x npc // no known family. mother is deceased
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ not necessarily great in battle. semi easy to attack due to lack of expereince alone.
  ⭃ penned by scar ↛ @salemdraws on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[ROEFLAME .]

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-

Cinnamon ears are ringing still, feeling each jab that had battered them throughout the night. The only thing saving the warrior from feeling the true aches and pains was her waning adrenaline. The battle had ceased, and they were victorious.

When given the chance, she had run for her mate, buried herself in safe onyx fur, and touched her nose to each one of her kittens' little heads. When she makes her way over to where Flamewhisker speaks now, the familiar form of Burnstorm by her side felt like sanctuary.

Skyclaw is dead. Roeflame presses herself against Burnstorm, though she kept her gaze on her leader. Roeflame staring at her mates temple wouldn't tell her what he was feeling. The former queen feels her breath hitch at Sparrowpaws name especially, the sting soon to follow. It felt as though he was walking into camp, glued to Flamewhiskers leg only a quarter moon ago. May your journey to the stars be easy, Sparrowpaw and Cobwebtail. A silent, instinct prayer runs behind lowered celadon hues.

Roeflame doesn't blink at Flamewhiskers decree for exile. Good riddance. Though the fiery molly's decision to put Burnstorm in charge of burying the traitors seemed somewhat cruel… or perhaps the job was assigned with good intentions. Either way, Roeflame spares a weary glance towards the tom. "I can handle that instead," a smaller forepaw presses against his, "just say the word." She knew better than to push too much, Burnstorm was strong.

Gentlestorms roar sends Roeflame's head whirling, rounded optics staring at their medicine cat in shock for a fleeting moment. Without much time to reach, Orangepaw teeters forward, sputtering earnestly. His plea to help Wrath-howl is kind and naive, and entirely up to Gentlestorm.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── I GOT A POCKET ⋅✴⋅ A POCKET FULL OF SUNSHINE ──┐‎

• 

• 
  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.

​

 

[STORMYWING]

It had all been a blur. Badgerstripe separating her and her brother's killer. Thundergleam coming to her side, begging her to stop. The dead being hauled away so that their new leader may stand rightfully on her throne. She looks down. Her paws are still stained red.

She can barely hear Flamewhisker over the roar of blood in her ears. She staggers, leaning into her friends as her breath hitches in her throat, angry and exhausted. And then Gentlestorm shouts, and her head jerks up, the fire renewed in her eyes. Betrayal and shock mix into one as her expression contorts. Who would put that murderer in a den meant for healing?

Orangepaw. The apprentice she'd meant to protect when she attacked Wrath-howl. Fury makes her chest grow hot as she stands to her full height again and she yowls, "Make it right? He killed Pebblestep!" A snarl rips from her throat as she stumbles forward a step, away from the shoulders of Thundergleam and Badgerstripe. "He killed my brother! He deserves nothing!" Tail lashing wildly, she stops and glowers with mad eyes at Orangepaw, then turns a desperate look to Gentlestorm and Flamewhisker. More tears well in her eyes as she grits her teeth. Let me finish what I started.​

 

[badgerstripe]

Wrathhowl lives. A great sorrow courses through Badgerstripe, followed soon by swift fury. He lives, and he is safe. Not only that, but he is being vouched for. The blue molly's eyes glaze over Orangepaw, seeing someone unrecognizable. " Did they afford that same empathy to the cats they killed? " she mews dryly, flicking her tail after Pebblestep's statement. She recalls Sleekserpent's words that sent a shiver down her spine - he thought Pebblestep was weak for not calling for help. If Wrathhowl thought that way for even a second, she would not agree to grant him immunity.

Badgerstripe finds herself agreeing with Stormywing. There is a thought in her mind; if Sleekserpent stood before them now, begging forgiveness, would she give him the chance? She pushes the hypocrisy away - it is not possible, no matter how much she wished he turned tail when he could. What matters is the here and the now.. and that is Wrathhowl's fate. Green eyes flick to Gentlestorm, who behaves in a manner that truthfully unnerves her. It is ultimately up to him.. but she prepares a disapproving scoff if he makes the wrong choice.

BADGERSTRIPE ( she/her )​

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( ooc ) text

​

 

[FALLOWBITE]

ˏˋ*⁀➷ Blood soaks the mats of her fur. She can still taste it in her teeth, just like before. Her tail is little more than dead weight behind her, lancing pain coming with every pitiful drag of it. She hardly has time to reach the medicine den before the medic begins bellowing.

She stops in her tracks, fixes her gaze upon Wrathhowl. She is quiet for a moment as she settles herself into a nest. Listening. "...We're s'posed to be better'n 'em, aren't we? Or was all this for nothing?" Her rumbling voice raises after a loud silence. All the ferver from her fight has left, and she feels hollow. A languid paw sweeps towards the mangled face of Wrathhowl. "Look at him. Think he's had enough suffering for a lifetime." I'm sorry, he'd told her, blubbering and terrified.

"Always was the softest of the group anyway. Skyclaw got into his head, 'n with him y'gotta do what he says or die." She's living proof, isn't she? They're not so different. Fallowbite just realized that she had options a little bit earlier... And only because she had already bloodied her paws once. Wrathpaw was young - they all were, wgen it started. What of the littlest ones like Scarletpaw? Would they be left to rot if they had grown old enough to kill?

Her eye shifts to her former mentor, teary eyes and vengeful. Her stomach twists. "Killing him ain't gonna give you any closure." Her voice is steely; she bares bloodstained teeth in a demonstrative snarl. "Trust me," she pleads.

The andrenaline is fading now. She doesn't feel satisfication, just as she didn't with Baying Hound.

It sighs, resting it's head upon its paws. It sympathises with Wrathhowl, sure - but it owes his defender. It's been cruel to him far too many times to keep standing by. "You'd be hurting Orangepaw more'n anything, I think. Kid's a mess." It cranes its head towards him now, narrows its eye. "Hey. Don't give up shit for him, put yourself first for once. Mousebrain." There's no bite to the words. Its eyes slip shut. "Jus' put Wrathpaw by me if y'gotta." A grimace of a grin, teeth flashing once again. "I'll keep him check." A threat, plain as day. I'll tear out his throat if I have to. It seems that's all she's good at.

‎‎┌── GOD KNOWS I❜M ONLY HUMAN ⁀➷ I GET SO INHUMANE ──┐‎

• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  FALLOWBITE ⁀➷ she / it, warrior of thunderclan, twelve 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 antlerbreeze & doepath.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Dwindlingpaw]

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊ Dwindlingpaw lifts her head as Flamewhisker's words rush over her, so Skyclaw finally meet his fate at the teeth of their new leader. How befitting. The overwhelming dread of almost being among the dead grips her heart tightly. She could feel her wounds pulse as she sat among the victors.

The rat-face's followers are going to be exiled, and before she could celebrate Gentlestorm declares Wrathpaw to be among them. Does that mean all the kits and apprentices? The whole problem was due to Skyclaw being a smooth talker and those who listened to that snake had their weaknesses attacked. She still remembers his cold voice sticking under her skin. Flamewhisker decreed just sounds so wrong—yet so righteous yet not at the same time. So many cats were too blinded by rage to see jt.

"He was an apprentice in Skyclaw's inner circle; to betray him meant death." Her mouth spoke a thought that lingered in her mind. It was Skyclaw behind all the killings, he'd tricked everyone, even his followers. "Wrathpaw is still young; if we send him away now, he'll only grow into a problem for us later..."

"Everyone sees him as a traitor anyway; I said he can be fixed and can unlearn the lessons taught to him..." She added with a sneer, she was a fool to defend him in front of cats who outranked her. But her ever-stubborn mind thought it was the right thing to do. The faster everything wraps up, the sooner her pain can be relieved.

"If you truly don't see his potential, then killing him would be the next best solution." It was a cold statement. There was no warmth in her heart for him like Orangepaw and Fallowbite do. Mercy was a dangerous game to play for Flamewisker. Regardless, Dwindlingpaw had grown up with the ugly beast; it would be weird not having Wrathpaw around.

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 
  
  

  Dwindlingpaw— She/Her ･ 8 moons ･ Thunderclan apprentice･ PENNED BY @Ghostunes!

  ☀︎ A charismatic colorful array of cream orange and red fur shaped like an apprentice.
  ☀︎ Crimsonsun x Shadedmoon
  ☀︎ Tags​

 

[roaringsun]

〔✦〕Skyclaw is dead. The words are like music to his ears. He can finally relax— ThunderClan as a whole can finally relax after moons of torment. Several small cuts and wounds litter his body from his scuffle with Wrathpaw and the fight with Sproutberry. It aches, it burns, but he's still relieved. They are proof he's still alive, that he and his clanmates lived after all of this. . . but some of them did not. Cobwebtail and Sparrowpaw left them tonight, and Roaringpaw will sit vigil for them until he passes out from exhaustion. It's the least he can do.

The apprentice tenses up again when he hears Gentlestorm's roar. It booms and reverberates like thunder, and he fears. Who put Wrathpaw in my den. He's alive? He'd thought Stormywing had killed him. He killed her brother. He killed their leader. Roaringpaw wishes she'd finished him off. He protected Orangepaw. Doesn't matter, doesn't matter, doesn't matter — one action doesn't excuse him from everything the foxhearts put them all through.

Orangepaw comes to Wrathpaw's defense, and Roaringpaw can feel and hear his heart shattering at the betrayal. Orangepaw was so naive, always seeing the best in others. But there was no good to be seen in Wrathpaw. Nothing, nothing, nothing! He was trying to save himself by acting like he regreted it, he was lying. Fallowbite also defends Wrathpaw. Another one of the traitors. You cannot change sides like that, on a whim, when things get bad for you. You can't, you can't.

Could they afford to feel safe while there were still traitors inside their walls?

"Out," His voice is low, at first. He wants to press against Gentlestorm in support, but he doesn't think the medic is too fond of him. . .not after the poisoning incident, and he doesn't want to make matters worse; have that anger directed at him instead. "Get him out! Out of the den, out of camp!" The flame-point yowls, his teeth snapping in rage. The apprentice is still covered in Sproutberry's blood, and he just wants to have his wounds checked and dressed — but now he stood in disbelief at what he was hearing. How could they, how could they, how could they side with a murderer? After everything? Orangepaw, how could you? How could you? How could you? Have you not seen everything he's done to me, to ThunderClan?

This hurts more than the scratches and bruises do.

I took a little journey to the unknown ( Ive come back changed, I can feel it in my bones ) //

• ooc.
• ROARINGPAW —— apprentice of thunderclan , mentored by leafhusk . npc x npc . littermate to npcs ✦ penned by nocthymia
  ✦ male / he/him / 11 moons & ages every 14ᵗʰ
  ✦ single / orientation & poly or mono / open/closed to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— combat details here / battle notes
  
  ✦ "speech", 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
  ✦ tags — msg on discord (hypmic) for plots — toyhouse
  
• reference image here
  

  a longhaired flame sepia with low white and amber-brown eyes.

​

 

[doepath ࿔]

By the time things quiet, she feels ready to sleep for an eternity.... the prickle of anxiety that ran down her spine coming to a soft lull. It's at the rousing of the slumbering beast firmly grasped under one of her arms that stirs a tiny amount of wakefulness. "Mmm? Where're you goin....?" A yawn splits her maw, staring after the bedraggled form of the medicine cat has his silhouette blots out the light that filters through the entrance to his den, debating if she has the energy to pursue him, to lecture him to rest.

There's a heavy tide of mumbling from beyond him, that much she can pick up as her ears twist forward... It's over then? A wilted daffodil stare squeezes shut to dispel the sleepiness from her gaze, slow to amble to her feet with a hesitant with-holding of a tender paw. Her efforts to follow after are methodical.... tortoise-like in their speed.... and stopped somewhat regularly by another eye-watering yawn.

It isn't until Gentlestorm is already howling and spitting that she finds herself beside him, alarm coloring the frown that lines her features. Orangepaw pleads for his patience... for his kindness and Fallowbite too, barks an appeal for the cat that has set their healer into a fit. Eye-bags and bloody cobwebs look to her sister, confused and uncertain; Not all of them are like you, she wants to argue, the sting of her ribs a reminder with every breath that many of Skyclaw's ilk had wanted murder and destruction upon the same cats they shared a den with at night.

What good had Wrath-howl's softness been compared to killers? It had still been his fang and claw to draw blood. "Blossom," she murmurs, extending her paw to beckon Orangepaw closer, so she might lick down the tufts of bloodied fur that still cling to him, "No one is taking herbs from you...." Her voice comes out as a hummed whisper, knowing that the bristle-backed gray tom that he argued with wouldn't accept such a proposition.

That did still leave the question for how Flamewhisker intended to choose the guilty from the young lambs that had been guided towards slaughter... they had barbed wire wrapped around their necks and hadn't even realized it...

Images of a crimson splattered canvas reminds her of her associated guilt, in some small way.... to have begged for Gentlestorm's forgiveness on behalf of her litter-mate. To have confessed a secret meant to be kept by two. Fallowbite... it had only killed their mother... right? It hadn't played a part in this serial violence...? Only an act... never with its own teeth?

At what point.... do we hold apprentices accountable, she asks herself, glancing between her deputy and those that bristle around her, ready to lunge across the small circle of eyes to clean the ThunderClan body of further infection... of the rot that had sunk into it to begin with.​

 

[antlerbreeze]

Just as soon as it seemed the dust settled, words were being traded.

Antler had found herself a corner- one where she could lick her wounds, a prey-beast that wasn't too terribly injured physically, but had seen enough horrors to make her want to sleep for weeks. Her first instinct had been that of herself- the minimal scratches she obtained from the warriors she had killed. Her second instinct was to see her sister next, then her sibling, then her youngest group of sibling- family, her mind begged her, locked behind a door she had sealed with nails until Skyclaw was dead. The nails were loose, those thoughts were slipping free.

She didn't get to make it past step one before the words were being traded. Bodies were still somewhat warm, eyes shifting red-rimmed towards Flamewhisker as she began to speak. Antler is silent as words began to fly, Gentlestorm's snapping sudden and overwhelming. Ears flattened against her skull, others shouting for Wrath-howl's... 'extermination'. Fearful eyes- ones that were always shuttered by Skyclaw's ideals (she couldn't tell, she couldn't tell until now, she knew, she knew,) were ones she recalled as Antler finally stood, her smaller form moving to stand next to Fallow.

The she-cat hadn't chosen to stand that close to her sibling in a moon or two- not by choice, she couldn't. Now she did, her paws almost brushing the other's flank, her amber eyes lifting towards Gentlestorm. When she spoke, she was quiet- perhaps her words were missed by others, but Gentlestorm, Fallow, Doe- they could all hear her. "Do we kill those at our mercy?" Antler spoke, ears lowering. "He is incapacitated- but... it isn't our choice. It is Flamewhisker's call. It isn't those who tortured him, or wish to see him bleed to death beyond our borders." She says. "We are not.. killers."

Eyes lift from Gentlestorm to Fallow, then beyond to those in camp. "There are others still remaining who were part of his circle. Do you wish to see them dead, too? Apprentices, young ones. Like him." Her tail gestured quietly- she didn't name them, unaware she was on the same thought path as her sister. Her vision snaps away, smaller scratches barely trickling blood as her voice lifts to the lead warriors, the deputy- leader?- all concerned with moving forward. "I'll help dig the graves. I'm as unwounded as I can be." Antler says. She is brief her in her movement, touching her nose to Fallow, to Doe, then she departs them for the crowd near Flamewhisker.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── AND KNOW THAT MEANWHILE ⋅❁⋅ RISES THE MOON ──┐‎

• "speech"

• 

• ANTLERPOISON she/her, warrior of thunderclan, thirteen moons.
  ⭃ LH cinnamon lynx sepia with low white. smaller body, agile and slippery, fits really well in small gaps in the underbrush. soft spoken but strong and determined.
  ⭃ previously mentored by howlingstar / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ padding after no one / / sibling to fallowbite and doepath
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Fadingpaw]

[ ༻ ☼ ༺ ] Words of the others came in gone but many blurred and melded together in Fadingpaw's ears as she looked to her paws. They were talking about Wrathpaw, about sparing the tom and letting him stay and she gritted her teeth before shaking her head. "He still killed them... he still... he still supported Skyclaw and the others crimes... and yet you defend him?" she gritted her teeth. Did she feel bad for Wrathpaw? Yes. Had he suffer enough? Yes. But could she forgive him? No.

"Wrathpaw took one of Howlingstar's life before Skyclaw finished her off. If she hadn't lost a life to him and to the others who assisted. Wouldn't she still be here?" her words in a hushed tone as she asked her questions. Wrathpaw was a few moons older than she, and yet she herself had known better than to follow someone so cruel that they willingly killed their own kin in cold blood. So why did they defend him? And why did she feel bad for him? "He's still a murderer" the girl stated lightly. She never was one to be harsh on others but she couldn't nor wouldn't forgive the tom for his actions. Him being here makes her feel sick to her stomach.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── So many angles , so many lines ──┐‎

• "speak""Thoughts"
• 
  Fadingpaw ☼ She/Her, Apprentice of Thunderclan, 8 moons.
  ⭃ Stocky short flame point tabby she-cat with blue eyes and stubby tail, one floppy ear
  ⭃ Crimsonsun x Shadedmoon
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Flamestar]

〔✦〕Her heart ached when Bayingkit asked if there was anything she could do to help. The child of Nightbird and Raccoonstripe wept into her uncle's pelt. She and her siblings had lost so much in their short lives. "It would be a big help if you could find some flowers. There should be some growing near the Warrior's den." She doubted that was the task Bayingkit wished to help with, but she wouldn't allow her to leave the camp, not with what remained of Skyclaw's followers only having retreated a few moments ago.

Her announcements had come to an end, but before she could make her way down the Highrock, Gentlestorm's weak voice caught her attention. She cast her gaze towards him, but before she could ask what he had said, the Medicine Cat began shouting. W... wh... WHO... PUT WRA... WRATHPAW IN MY DEN. Much like several of her clanmates, Flamewhisker's pelt began to bristle. Her nostrils flared as she began searching for who had put one of Howlingstar's murderers in the den. It didn't take long before Orangepaw spoke up, and a wave of disappointment hit her. The young apprentice had always been one to befriend everyone...but to bring an enemy to get healed?

"...I put him there... he got hurt because of me..." Her eyes narrowed. Did she hear him right? If Wrathpaw got hurt because of Orangepaw, that meant he was fighting against Skyclaw's followers. Her maw parted as she wanted to speak, but the camp burst into an uproar. Stormywing declared that Wrathpaw had killed her brother, wishing death upon the apprentice. Wrathpaw was already known to have helped claim one of Howlingstar's lives, and apparently he had aided in Pebblestep's downfall as well. Badgerstripe spoke, agreeing with Stormywing.

Fallowbite spoke next, claiming that Skyclaw had gotten to his head, and that he had no choice other than to agree with him. This was true, every cat in the clan knew that. Skyclaw did not approve of any one who did not agree with him, she found herself feeling...briefly sympathetic towards the tom. Fallowbite had switched sides and pretended to follow him for the good of the clan...but she also hadn't murdered clanmates. Or at least not that she knew of. Dwindlingpaw agreed with Fallowbite, claiming that he would've been killed if he hadn't agreed with Skyclaw. He still could've sought out one of us, we would've helped him out of that situation somehow.

Anger was boiling in her belly, and her front claws started to poke on the Highrock's smooth surface. Wrathpaw had betrayed them, he had attempted to murder their leader, and he had helped kill Pebblestep. She despised him, but the question of was he truly forced to do those things kept playing over and over in her mind. Howlingstar, I don't know what to do. She wanted to rip her fur out, to let out an angry yowl. During this, she hadn't realized she had tuned everything out for a moment. When she came back to, Roaringpaw was yowling to get him out of the camp. Antlerbreeze claimed that the clan was not killers, but we are, the dark thought slipped into her mind. The camp was littered with the bodies of their enemies. Nothing about that battle had been fair or just. It had been a battle to the death, her clanmates fighting with the strength of Lionclan. "There are others still remaining who were part of his circle. Do you wish to see them dead, too? Apprentices, young ones. Like him." Fallowbite had been thought to be a follower, there were several young apprentices that had switched sides during the battle, was it fair to cast Wrathpaw away?

No...yes...no...

Fadingpaw's voice was the last she heard before she spoke up. He's still a murder. "Silence." The red tabby ordered, slowly scanning her gaze over each of her clanmates before finally resting it on Gentlestorm. "Wrathpaw is incapacitated. We are not rogues, we will not take his life while he is unconscious. I will cast my judgement after he wakes. Until then, he will remain in the Medicine Den with a posted guard at all times." She paused, giving time for her words to sink in. "You are all dismissed. We have much to do to get our camp back in order."

even on my weakest days ( I get a little bit stronger ) //

• ooc.
• FLAMEWHISKER —— deputy of thunderclan , mentoring merlinpaw . storm x lily . littermate to nala, smokey, and nemo ✦ penned by icey !
  ✦ afab / she/her / 37 moons & ages every 20ᵗʰ
  ✦ widowed / heterosexual / closed to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— difficult in battle
  
  ✦ "speech", 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
  ✦ tags — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a longhaired red tabby with low white and green eyes. flamewhisker's fur is a vibrant hue of red, riddled with thick classic tabby markings. her fur is medium in length, and she has a large, feathery tail. her chest, belly, tail tip, and her paws are dipped white. flamewhisker's eyes are a dark, deep shade of green. her shoulder has a large scar on it from a fight with a dog. she also has a shredded ear from a disagreement with a loner during her time alone before joining thunderclan. on particularly cold days, or sometimes before a major weather change, she will walk with a slight limp from her shoulder injury.

​

​

 

[nightbird]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ nightbird has to stop her bloodstained nose from crinkling as bayingkit rushes to cobwebtail's still flank with wet eyes. not even out of the nursery, and her living kin has dwindled more than the queen could have imagined. and raccoonstripe... she searches for him anxiously in the crowd while moving towards bayingkit who pleaded with flamewhisker to help.

"come, we'll find something nice," she mutters, although on a day like this nightbird had her doubts. the pain from mottledpaw's attack is sharp as she speaks, her tail twitching as the wound pulls with each expression made. she'd see gentlestorm later, surely there were more serious injuries he needed to tend.

she was not expecting those injuries to be his own. her jaw falls as her friend rears a mighty head from his den, strained howling crossing his lips. and like that, tension blossomed again. wrath-howl had managed to barter another day of life. by the sounds of argument in camp, it didn't sound like it would last long.

nightbird's brow dips as flamewhisker's judgement is passed onto the dissent, tongue running over her muzzle to taste the blood and rain mixed. wait until he awoke, so that he may plead case for his life. none of that mercy was extended to howlingstar, she thinks bitterly. countless clanmates had prematurely joined starclan, more than that injured and scarred. it was no matter of morals, but one of justice. wrath-howl would reap what he sowed, as would the runners if they were ever bold enough to show their faces in this forest again.

the queen glances to gentlestorm for his reaction momentarily before returning to bayingkit. "come on," she says again, a bit stiffer as her gaze lands on the still pale flank of cobwebtail.

BURNING SWORD // ───‎ ⋆ GUIDE MY HAND‎ ‎‎ ‎‎☽

• ooc ↛

• 

• 
  NIGHTBIRD ✩ she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, 36 ☾'s
  ⭃ a small black smoke molly with a white paw and pale silver eyes. currently a queen residing in the nursery.
  ⭃ mate to raccoonstripe / / currently mentoring none.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Lightflower]

❝ it's gonna hurt for a bit of time ❞​

With the decree of Skyclaw's death, Lightflower visibly slouched in relief. Said relief did not last, however, as she scanned camp to find limp bodies all around. Eerie was the only way she could describe such a feeling. It was grim, and bloody. How could she possibly sleep that night? (The answer is, she wouldn't.) Her cuts stung as the adrenaline began to wear off. Nothing she couldn't handle. Enough to be a painful reminder.

Gentlestorm's voice spiked the fear in her for a moment once again, before she realized what had been said. "He's... I..." she mewed, not projecting by any means. Wrathpaw was Lovelight's brother, how could she condemn him? It was no right of hers. Though his acts might pierce her heart, she had to be the rock for Lovelight. She looked around, trying to find her in the chaos, hoping she was alright.
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