border IT'S GONNA CAUSE A SCENE || THUNDERCLAN PATROL

His paws tingle with anticipation. The stench of ShadowClan grows stronger, and it doesn't take long for Ternstar to arrive with a patrol of her own. Roaringsun remains enshrouded by the undergrowth, but longs to leap at any of the crowfood-eaters and sink his claws into their hide. With every word spilling from Ternstar's mouth, the warrior finds his lips curling into the beginning of a snarl, a growl threatening to rumble from his chest. But he swallows it down, not wanting to give his position away so soon ( the element of surprise would be his biggest ally here, truthfully ) and awaits Flamestar's attack order.

When the red tabby leaps at the white she-cat, he knows the time has come. With his talons outstretched, Roaringsun yowls and breaks through the thicket, amber eyes narrowed and wild. He watches several fights break out and seeks an opponent of his own. Push the border back, send them home! Flamestar's order echoes in his mind, and it's an order he will gladly follow after the unfairness of their ambush moons ago.

His gaze lands on a pure-white molly, one who currently blends far too well with the snowy landscape. Roaringsun approaches and attempts to slam into the enemy warrior, claws aiming for the shoulders and wanting to make her lose her footing. "Go ask RiverClan for food if you're so starved. This is ThunderClan territory!"

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  • ooc. attacking @VULTURESONG / preplanned opponent!
  • ROARINGSUN —— warrior of thunderclan , mentor to berrypaw . npc x npc . littermate to npcs ✦ penned by nocthymia
    male / he/him / 16 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.
 

It's bad luck that he finds himself back here.

It's bad luck to be standing where his first battle had taken place, to be able to see the place his mother had fallen from where he stands all over again. Morelpaw would avoid the stretch of land if he could, but Ternstar has tasked his mentor with being part of this ill-fated patrol, and... in turn, him.

He finds himself sticking closer to Briarthorn than normal as they make their trek toward the extended border in defiance of Flamestar's call. A foolish part of him hopes for this to go over smoothly, but Morelpaw knows it won't — especially as the ThunderClanners come into view, claws unsheathed and shoulders set back in preparation. The flame-furred leader across the way feeds into his hope, but only for a moment before his own stands her ground.

Morelpaw's heart pounds as the call is made, as he's thrown into a memory still fresh with bloodshed and mourning. A pale gaze flickers to the fated spot — half-expecting it to be tinged with his mother's blood still, half-expecting to find his mother's ghost waiting there. His stomach turns at the sight of it, void of gray and white fur, and he's snapped out of his thoughts as claws clash and yowls ring through the expanse.

A wide-eyed gaze looks for Briarthorn, searching for instruction, for assurance that he won't end this battle in the stars.

[ MORELPAW ]


Morelpaw is a mirror of his fallen mother in plush, gray and white fur. A hunger for knowledge guides Morelpaw's path and he finds himself unafraid to ask others questions about anything that comes to his mind. He is protective of his family — especially now, in the wake of his mother's death.
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He / Him ⋅ Single
Apprentice of ShadowClan
Needledrift † x Chittertongue †; Adopted by Ferndance
Brother to Bloodwing, Shadewhisker, Splashdance, Bonechill, Gigglepaw, Branchpaw
Mentoring no one ⋅ Mentored by Briarthorn
Penned by Abri ⋅ Message _abri_ on discord for plots!
Pre-planned opponents!

 
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There is a churn in her gut, something clawing it's way out. Threatening to tear apart flesh and sinew just to escape, wherever it be anticipation or nerves she doesn't know. In her mind it's the same, a scowl etched into her face as if that would fight off the war in her stomach. Finding herself reluctantly sticking to Wormwatcher's side as the patrol stuck to the shadows. Waiting on bated breath for a call to action from Ternstar, it doesn't come. Instead snide remarks are exchanged, she finds it interesting, how she refuses to make the call. Instead the order comes from Flamestar, all hot air and snarling. It's greed that drives the opposing leader, that she is sure of. Haven't they been fed well? Their bellies are round and they appear strong, is one section of territory really worth it? So be it, she has heard stories of great battles, wars, over less.

This is one of them, isn't it? She gets to be part of a grand story. Would Moltface talk about this to any future kits under his care? There's that flutter in her stomach again, she'd hate to disappoint. Expression unreadable as cats lunge at one another, intaking in those precious heart beats, minute seconds as claws rip into flesh as if they were grass. Blood a brilliant crimson, coating snow and bathing an already dreary scene. Her jaw tenses, these precious moments teaching her more than Wormwatcher had in these past months. He's been doing fine but that's theory, this is real experience.

There's an apprentice opposite to her, one with spindly long fur, it looks plush. She's blue but the lightening sky reflected off it, she's a mirage for a moment. It could be easy for Puddlepaw to confuse her with a deer, she's heard about it before in a story. She'd call her a rat but she's a little pretty for such a thing, maybe one of those marsh hares... She's thinking too much about it, yowl's and shrieks of pain stab at her eardrums. There is a pounding behind her eyes, a headache forming and all she knows is that she must move.

Move she does, darting from the shadows to lunge at the older apprentice. The rabbit girl is bigger than a frog but that is Puddlepaw's only reference, anticipating for her to jump like one she aims to pin her down. Claws dig into the ThunderClanners shoulders as she violently shoves, attempting to bowl her over. If she were more battle savvy she would try to fient and run, but all she knows is pure brutality. A gnawing beast residing within her that screams at her to overwhelm, try to strike first before she is mauled. There is no taunt from her, no comment as she attempts to dig and twist her claws deeper within the flesh of her shoulder, dragging them down her front legs.

 
  • Nervous
Reactions: ken_Unot

He isn't as phased by this — the impending doom of battle — as he used to be, he realizes as they approach their extended border. It is a familiar pang in his chest now, a march toward bloodshed and loss he knows well by now. His childhood had been marred by it, his warriorhood riddled with it: in his own presence, in clanmates' return (or lack thereof) from it.

Vaguely, he remembers. A tale of a childhood friend's mother, of hunger, of a tom only just older than him attacked somewhere near this stretch of land. The specifics are blurred with time now, but Ribbitleap knows it as a turning point — that it led to change, and in turn, led down to this moment too.

What surprises him is the choice made. ShadowClan is barely holding itself together as is: what good will this do, if Ternstar's decision to defend this strip of land fails? If they're down more warriors, and they run out of resources? To himself, the brown tabby frowns at the idea, shoulders squaring back as he prepares for stubborn talk between the marsh's leader and the oak forest's own to escalate. He doesn't want to find out. He won't let ShadowClan find out, won't let his home crumble.

The call for battle breaks, and his clanmates surge toward the opposing clan with extended claws. Ribbitleap is swift to spring forward into battle, swamp-green eyes narrowed as his claws search for a target.

[ RIBBITLEAP ]


The surviving twin, Ribbitleap has grown with the clans without his brother at his side — an inseparable duo divided by tragedy in the face of the Great Battle. Once undistinguishable from his littermate, it is perhaps likely for his scrawny, brown tabby form to garner a sense of familiarity to neighboring oak-dwellers.
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He / Him ⋅ Single
Warrior of ShadowClan
Geckoscreech † x Toad's Prowl
Brother to Leaping Toad †; Cousin to Toadhop, Ragwortpaw †
Mentoring no one ⋅ Mentored by Rustleap
Penned by Abri ⋅ Message _abri_ on discord for plots!
Pre-planned opponent!

 
Sharpshadow digs his claws into the ground, desperate to cling onto the only thing ShadowClan's seemingly ever had in his lifetime. She's desperate enough to fight for it, even if she can see the pelts scattered across the treeline, and sees ten-too-many to properly fend off. Even as she recalls every face ShadowClan's lost, and knows they can't refuse to lose any more. Even as Ternstar speaks, and only a thin sliver of her word manages to enter his ears; the rest too hollow for any real noise to be made.

What he found most unfair about it all, is he hadn't even gotten to be happy while they'd had it. No, ShadowClan had been too busy crying over what they'd lost for it. ShadowClan lost, always; it didn't matter who they did or didn't bother. It had been nice to get something in return, for once.

Sharpshadow doesn't move, doesn't think to... follow up on Ternstar's word, or anything. To be the parrot that Roeflame was plenty-good at being. Did she really have a right? He certainly didn't have a reason. A deputy, sure... But whose, exactly? ThunderClanners all tilted their heads in that same, excruciating way... Roeflame did it now, her line practically sounding rehearsed. They all thought themselves pillars of something untouchable; Emberstar, Howlingstar, Flamestar... The worst part was, they haven't been proven too wrong so far. Mutiny be damned... ThunderClan has cobbled themselves back together in a way ShadowClan never could.

Well, she hopes its not never. But that day wouldn't be today. It bothers her, the way Roeflame glimpses her as if they're at all equal. Sharpshadow braces herself.

It's a different flash of fur that meets her first— white-and-grey barreling toward her, and luckily loud enough as she does to give Sharpshadow a warning. Unluckily, noticing something doesn't mean her paws can move quickly enough to stop it. Sharpshadow sucks in a breath as the weight of Stormywing slams onto her shoulders. He stumbles, but doesn't— can't fall. Not yet. Her tail shifts in some unsightly attempt to keep her balanced, its broken half dragging sloppily behind. Dark sets of paws are desperate to keep himself tethered to the ground. Wide-eyed and frantic, she retaliates with teeth instead, seeking the meat of the ThunderClanner's leg.

OOC: engaging @STORMYWING! Open to multiple opponents >:)
 

He's been here before, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. The memory of the previous battle between Thunderclan was still fresh in his mind, his claws instinctively flexing deep into the sleet covered ground as he recalled the nightmarish scene. They had emerged victorious, Riverclan's aid proving to be an indispensable asset when they needed it most- but they would not be given such grace this time. Now they were alone, and it was impossible to ignore their dwindled numbers- Amberhaze felt his twitching jaws clench with the realization as he allowed his wild eyes to sweep over Ternstar's chosen patrol. Instinctively, he would stick close to her side, their pelts nearly brushing with their close proximity as he matched her pace.

Ternstar's voice broke through the window of silence presented to them by their opponents, Flamestar and her council members at the forefront of what was sure to be some kind of unforeseen plan. Amberhaze would say nothing, however it was apparent that he was sizing up everyone within view and scanning the terrain in an attempt to familiarize himself with the patch of territory that they would once again be laying their lives on the line for. Slackened jaws and rapidly flitting eyes would reveal the truth to him- there were more cats rallied behind Flamestar than she wanted them to think, and the weaker targets were herded safely towards the farthest area of the surrounding brush. It was a clever tactic, but it would do little in the ways of deterring Shadowclan's steadfast leader. Personally, he did not think this measly piece of land was worth the inevitable fatalities, bearing witness to Marbleleaf's endlessly dwindling herb storage and inability to find more during the bitter Leafbare season firsthand- but Ternstar was stubborn- she would not risk showing just how weak they truly were by surrendering what Mitestar had won for them.

As he awaited Ternstar's signal with bated breath and a rigid stance, he would allow his mind to momentarily wander to that of Vulturesong. The alabaster molly approached the frontlines with a sort of graceful yet... dangerous stride. She was a perfect balance of all that was wretched and admirable, her shadowed gaze further illuminating piercing orbs. He had not realized he had begun to stare, his angular head turning to face her direction. I wonder if she's still angry with me...She really did do what I asked- I've hardly seen an inch of her for days now. His frown was heavy, the creases that took shape against his sharp features making him seem even more unsightly than usual. Technically, she had done what he had asked of her. She no longer tormented him with her cruel jokes, didn't barrage him with endless questions about his views, didn't attempt to garner any kind of intense reaction out of him for what seemed to be her own amusement. He should feel satisfied, at peace...but instead he was consumed by guilt. Maybe even something akin to regret. Yearning. If we survive this, I'll have to figure out how to apologize to her later. If she'll even let me.

He was given no time to contemplate further, his attention snapping back to the situation at hand at the harrowing sound of Flamestar's cry. The sound was explosive, but it would be swiftly dwarfed by that familiar burst of hellish screeching and yowling which would soon follow. Ternstar would give her own much more graceful signal to attack, their patrol surging forward in a wave of fur, teeth, and claws to defend what never should have been theirs. Amberhaze's fur stood on end as he was once again frozen in place, though this time the fear that rose within him would quickly morph into adrenaline fueled instinct. Weaving through a cesspool of sentient rage, he would hone in on a target who bore the marks of a coward- he would know, for he was one himself- taking advantage of his vulnerability and barreling into the orange tabby with immense speed in an attempt to unbalance him.

OOC: Preplanned interaction with @ORANGEHEART., please do not interfere!


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AMBERHAZETAGS
ㅤmale (he / him) / bisexual aroace, single
ㅤ20 moons old / ages semi-realistically, every 21st
ㅤlead warrior of shadowclan for 0 moons
npc x npc / younger brother to wormwatcher
ㅤmentoring talonpaw / mentored by wormwatcher
ㅤpenned by sloane / encarcerated on discord

a short but lengthy black cat with a boney build and luminous ocher eyes
⤷ black oriental shorthair x cornish rex
 
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  • Wow
Reactions: ORANGEHEART.

The satisfying impact of her shoulder against Sharpshadow's sends a jolt through her much smaller body, but her victory is fleeting. The ShadowClan deputy, stubborn as ever, doesn't crumble beneath her like she'd hoped. Instead, her jaws snap toward her leg, and pain blooms as teeth sink into flesh. Stormywing hisses sharply, but she's no stranger to pain. If anything, it fuels her resolve.

She doesn't pull back, refusing to give Sharpshadow the upper paw. Instead, she twists her body and wrenches her bloodied leg in an attempt to dislodge his grip, even if it costs her more pain. Her claws dig deeper into the deputy's shoulder that she still clings to with one paw as she leans in closer. Her snout wrinkles as her lips curl back in a ferocious snarl. "You ShadowClanners never know when to quit!" She growls, voice laced with scorn. On the word quit, she tries to rake her sunken claws away from his shoulder and down his side in retaliation, the movement wild and fueled by fury. It doesn't matter to her if the other cat had once been an ally in the mountains; right now, all she sees is a threat to her clan. That thought burns hotter than the stinging in her leg.

She spits furiously and braces herself for whatever counterattack the Sharpshadow might throw next. She knows this fight is far from over, but she'll be damned if she lets him walk away from it unscathed.

// attacking @SHARPSHADOW
Open to further interaction
 

It happens faster than Bouncepaw anticipated. Flamestar orders her warriors to push them back into the marshland and Ternstar flings herself forward, claws reaching to tear at the flame coat of the ThunderClan leader.

Battle cries and yowls ring through the dawn. Bouncepaw sprints forward for an opponent of her own, nearly tripping over her own paws. Her heart strums inside of her chest as her thoughts yell, "this is it! Battle!" She had played war so many times as a kit, pinning the younger, smaller kits had always been so easy. Surely, though she was new in her training, her moons of practicing as a kit had to count for something… right?

Bouncepaw thinks it will.

A blur of fur rushes towards her, Bouncepaw yelps in surprise and ducks to allow a ThunderClan warrior to jump right over her. She crawls forward, passing several cats who were entangled in battle to find an opening of her own. That's when she sees her, of long, lilac fur. She was much older than Bouncepaw, maybe even a warrior…? The tabby likes to think she'd be able to own her own against her, she's unaware of her overconfidence.

Bouncepaw lets out her own battle cry as she springs forward, an unsheathed paw aiming to swipe at her muzzle. "This is ShadowClan territory, we're not giving it up today!" She yowls at the she-cat definitely. Her hazel green eyes blaze with determination as she tries to lunge right for Hopepaw's hindleg, throwing all her weight in as her jaws aim to clamp down around the flesh of her leg.

Attacking @HOPEPAW ! She has no idea she's a medicine cat oops. Also has an eventual planned fight with @HOWLPAW who may team up on her, if desired.

Open to further attacks outside of those I've tagged!​

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BOUNCEPAW . BIOGRAPHY / TOYHOU.SE
female (she / her) / heterosexual, single
6 moons old / ages realistically, every 1st of the month
apprentice of ShadowClan
Myrtlefoot x Bristletooth / littermate to Juniperkit
mentored by Batchaser
penned by ava / message av.a on discord for plots!

Bouncepaw is a warm, brown she-cat with black tabby markings caging her fur. She has a broad muzzle and big, cream colored paws. White fur cascades from her chin and flows all the way down to pool at her underbelly. She has big, owlish, hazel eyes.
 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- war isn't fair. war isn't fun. war isn't where he is supposed to be. this isn't the path the stars are supposed to have lined out for him, and yet here he is– standing with his ears pinned back as he watches the insanity unfold upon the battlefield. his gaze snaps back and forth, as his paws begin to tremble, finding himself remembering the last time he fought shadowclan– the way that he felt his life almost leave him, only to somehow talk his way out of it. he still doesn't know how he did that, but he has a feeling maybe that that luck would run out. he feels a gasp leave himself as he flinches away from the sound of flamestar's voice, swallowing thickly and clenching his jaw as he tries to steady the way he breathes unevenly. panic. it felt like all the trees were closing in on him, the world seemingly a few shades darker, and all the more blurred. he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't even be trying to do this– what kind of warrior was terrified to fight for his clan? how could he properly protect anyone if he sits here and quivers like a leaf blown through the wind? his answer can only be answered when he find himself thrown off his balance, falling to the ground with a thud. his claws come out on nothing but pure instinct as he pushes them upwards attempting to keep the other cat's face away from his own. it takes but a moment but when he gets past the rotting smell that all shadowclanners seem to carry, he can smell something all too familiar.

fear.

he attempts to push amberhaze off of him, quickly scrambling to get onto unsteady feet. his ears pin back as he realizes one thing– if they're both scared then maybe oramgeheart could be the lesser of the evil. being here makes him far from innocent, his kindness cannot matter upon a field of blood and torn fur, but maybe if he spares the other– perhaps that will mean something. it is not the same for predators– those cannot be reasoned with. but this cat, right here, maybe he could be. he knows what he must do. he's gotta pull his punches. he will keep his claws away for most of this fight, and try his damndest to use his words. it's all he's got.

"we, hah, don't have to do this... we don't... you don't wanna be here either, do you? it's... we could just walk away?"

whether or not his words reach willing ears would determine his fate.

// defending self and attempting to talk down @Amberhaze ! closed for other interactions!

 
Dayfern

Status: Angry



The small silver torbie peered through the branches of the bush she took cover in as Ternstar and the other Shadowclanner's arrived. She paid no mind to the words exchanged. Her ears were on her leader and for the moment that Dayfern would be called to action, claws digging scours in the dirt as she was ready to leap at a moments notice. She eyes a smaller tom on the other side. A perfect opponent for her size. Her tail flicked behind her silently as she waited, locked onto the brown cat. As soon as Flamestar gave the call she was ready.

She burst from the bushes, an explosion of speed more akin to a Windclanner pushing her forward. Dead leaves went flying and snow scattered as she yowled at the tom, "Thunderclan Territory! Leave!" She pushed herself as fast as she could, aiming to leap atop the back of the brown tom in an attempt to over balance him with her momentum. She latched on with teeth and claws, trying to drag him to the ground. Whether she was successful or not, she would roll to the ground after letting go, dodging any follow up strike, and dashing back towards the bushes, hissing as she went. She disappears between the branches, blending into the surroundings, the only thing visible is her glowing amber eyes, almost as if taunting her opponent to give chase.


  • OOC: Engaging @RIBBITLEAP
  • Dayfern - Female black tortie silver blotched tabby ☼ She/Her ☼ Warrior of Thunderclan ☼ Penned by Snowy ☼ 25 moons
    ☼ Contact TimelordSnowy on Discord for plotting
    "Speech"
    Thoughts
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It's not easy to miss the sight of such a hulking tom, especially with a pelt that radiated flames. Stormy blue eyes even have the audacity to pierce into amber brown as she dodges his attack. She may be fierce but she knows her weaknesses. She is small, which much bigger foes such as this tom meant she couldn't afford being pinned down. However, such a task was easier said than done. With a good strike, she would be thrown to the ground. Getting pinned down was a death sentence. What made matters worse was the fact that she lost quite a bit of weight from the lack of food, so not only was she hungry.... She didn't have the strength to take more risks with an opponent of Roaringsun's class.

It should make her infuriated. His words. However, all she can find is resignation. Roaringsun was correct in one thing thus far. They could ask Riverclan for food. How they could make that work was irrelevant. As for this being Thunderclan territory the Thunderclan warrior was wrong. This had once been Thunderclan territory. And it will be again once this is over with. We won't win this battle. If Roaringsun had been expecting equal ferocity then he was sorely mistaken. With a stoic expression on her face even in the heat of battle, she answers coolly, "You make it sound as if I have any choice in this." The only one with the power of choice was Ternstar, and she had decided that it was best for all of them to fight a battle that couldn't be won.

Nevertheless, her claws unsheathe. What use is talking? Someone else will come for me if not you. She takes in the sight of the lion like cat before her. Well... Let's try our best. The white molly crouches and tucks in her tail before charging. He's big, but I won't know how he moves until I strike. I might how to fight up close... she attempts to swipe at the Roaringsun's foreleg, if she was lucky she would manage to graze his chest instead. However, regardless of whether or not she managed to land a blow, as soon as her paw touched the powdery white ground, she would quickly turn and create some distance between them.

Truthfully, in her gut she knows it. The likelihood of winning this fight was slim, and even then... She would not come out of this unscathed. However, this too was something she accepted the very moment Ternstar asked for her in this patrol. Survival was not promised. If death wanted to claim her then they would have to fight for it. She had no intentions of dying here, but if she did... Then, she would have no arguments if it were by the claws of this Thunderclanner.

// engaging with @roaringsun ; please do not interfere!
 

He is struck before his claws can sink into an opponent. A blurred form sprints out from nearby undergrowth and — before he can process their trajectory — collides with Ribbitleap. Sudden weight against his shoulders causes the tom to yowl in protest of his stumbling paws, trying to twist his body as the sharp sensation of teeth and claws dig into his form.

Ribbitleap hits the ground with a grunt, heart pounding at the suddenty of the chill of snow against his face, the pain in his shoulders. He moves to regain his footing and a dark paw moves forward in aim of swiping at the silver torbie. " This is our land! " he protests her declaration to leave. Because it is, because they fought for this strip of land, because their own had died for it.

What a waste of life it would be, to lose it now? What a shameful loss, to let down a family in mourning.

His opponent dodges his attack by just a sliver, and the tom growls in response. Ribbitleap moves forward in aim of striking once again, only for his paws to act as a repellant, for his opponent to run in the face of battle. A coward, she is, to attack and run. Ribbitleap surges forward after her, green eyes darting from patches of undergrowth in search of the hiding ThunderClanner as his sides heave.

" Come on, ThunderClanner, " he growls, his gaze training on flecks of amber within the undergrowth. There. " Don't be such a coward. " Ribbitleap pounces toward his target in aim of barreling into her, claws outstretched and ready to rip into her fur should his strike land.

[ RIBBITLEAP ]


The surviving twin, Ribbitleap has grown with the clans without his brother at his side — an inseparable duo divided by tragedy in the face of the Great Battle. Once undistinguishable from his littermate, it is perhaps likely for his scrawny, brown tabby form to garner a sense of familiarity to neighboring oak-dwellers.
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He / Him ⋅ Single
Warrior of ShadowClan
Geckoscreech † x Toad's Prowl
Brother to Leaping Toad †; Cousin to Toadhop, Ragwortpaw †
Mentoring no one ⋅ Mentored by Rustleap
Penned by Abri ⋅ Message _abri_ on discord for plots!
Attacking @Dayfern !

 
Myrtlepaw always believed that conflict could be settled diplomatically without the use of brutality.

Conflict only brought sadness, death, and suffering to everyone involved. While she understood the needs for battle training and everything else, she never wanted to use it unless she was pushed to it. Part of her hoped that Shadowclan wouldn't reveal itself from the shadows as they remarked the borders and instead let Ternstar and Flamestar discuss it about a better proposition than what Mirestar had done. The second that the Shadowclan leader and her patrol emerge, she can feel a pit start to swallow her uneasy. Eveningpaw had almost killed her with a gash to her stomach the last time she was on a patrol for such. However, she couldn't disobey her mentor and allow it to ruin his reputation of her being an unruly apprentice and him being incompetent.

Before she can find her mentor, a yowl stops time, and the doe-eyed girl finishes marking her area. Shadowclan and Thunderclan cats throw themselves at each other, and the scent of a familiar sanguine ichor feels her nostrils, which makes her sick. Her plush tail bristles in surprise, and she turns on her heels and starts her way back in the direction of camp until a sharp pain rinses through her shoulders. The sudden momentum of the other apprentice's weight and claws grappled in her shoulders; she collapsed underneath the weight of the other. Puddlepaw's claws shred through her silky ivory and blue fur like paper, and panic rushes through her.

"Stop! We don't have to fight!

Myrtlepaw hisses through gritted teeth as she squirms underneath the weight of the other. The roaring sound of blood pounding in her ears is deafening as she tries to use sheathed paws to show them off, but the other is a feral beast. A vision of her brother, Spiderpaw, waiting back in camp makes her will to live burst like an exploding light. Unintentionally, she attempts to kick the other off as an unsheathed claw slices at her shoulder. The sight of blood from the apprentice's wounds makes her shocked as she stares dumbfounded and concerned. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you..."

/ @Puddlepaw
 
  • Angry
Reactions: Puddlepaw

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-
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As expected, Flamestar shows little hesitance as she gives her Clan the order to attack. Instantaneously, the tension in the air is shattered by a brutish song of hisses and battle cries, clanmates are lurching forwards and eager to dig their claws into marshland rats.

Roeflame is not excluded, but her steely gaze on Sharpshadow is interrupted by a flash of ashen and snow before she can reach him. Stormywing has thrown herself at the ShadowClan deputy. Just as the ShadowClan deputy's fangs sink into the meat of Stormywing's leg, Roeflame is rushing for them, the advantage of both surprise and speed on her side.

With Sharpshadow's attention wrapped up by Stormywing's retaliating blow, Roeflame would take her slim opportunity and aim to race up from behind Sharpshadow, hoping to pounce onto the other deputies shoulders, and intending to latch unsheathed claws deep into her thin flesh. With any luck, her claws would be leaving painful scorches down Sharpshadow's back by the time he would be able to shake her off. "You're outnumbered, rat!"
  • Aiding @STORMYWING & attacking @SHARPSHADOW
  • ROEFLAME she/her, Deputy of Thunderclan, twenty-seven moons.
    petite cinnamon silver ticked tabby with murky green eyes & a small scar over her left eye.
    mate to Burnstorm ☀ mentor to Dovepaw & Dwindlingpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ☀ underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Noor@toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
A hiss is let out as Vulturesong dodges his attack, his paws swiping at nothing but air. You make it sound as if I have any choice in this. comes the ShadowClanner's voice, and he huffs disapprovingly. "You can leave. Or would you rather lose more numbers in this unnecessary battle?" They're outnumbered, he can easily see that. The marsh-cats are getting double-teamed, Roeflame and Stormywing fight side by side against Sharpshadow, and the deputy voices his thoughts aloud: You're outnumbered, rat!

Claws graze at his chest in the brief moment of thoughtfulness. Roaringsun sneers, his ears pinning to his head. Refusing to let the sharp pain deter him, the golden tom wasted no time in leaping after Vulturesong, closing in on the distance she wanted to set. Fire meets ice, refusing to tear his gaze off her. With an unsheathed claw, he will then aim to hit her head and once again attempt to make her lose balance.

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  • ooc. attacking @VULTURESONG :3
  • ROARINGSUN —— warrior of thunderclan , mentor to berrypaw . npc x npc . littermate to npcs ✦ penned by nocthymia
    male / he/him / 16 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.
 
TW FOR DESCRIPTIONS OF MURDER AND GOREY DESCRIPTIONS OF SUCH!!

She doesn't notice the tear in her shoulder until Myrtlepaw succesfully kicks her off. There is no grace with falling, body skidding across the forest floor as snow and dirt are kicked up around her. Coating her body in a muddy camoflague, teeth grit as she pushes herself back up. The new apprentice had momentarily forgotten how easy it could be for the ThunderClanner to win if she just applied herself. No matter how bulky Puddlepaw is the apprentice in front of her is one from a clan of strong bodies, broad where they need to be and taller than she could ever hope to be on account of their well fed diet. Not to mention experience, she doesn't understand why the other would apologise, why she wouldn't want to fight when she has seen her fair share of battle?

"Do not apologise, you sound like a kit" she doesn't mince words as she speaks, irritation flickers in her heart. Why would anyone be sorry? This is war, where is the others passion for her clans beliefs? It's humbling, to know that the chimera can hold something over the blue she-cat. It may not be size, power or age but in belief, she believes her clans needs this, believes that she could win if she just fought for the cause well enough. A fawn and ebony split pelt shakes the debris off herself, ShadowClan can't lose. Not without a fight, she thinks about Buzzardpaw stuck at camp, freshly torn pelt healed but leaving a horrid reminder. Would he be able to heal if they had even less food? What about the kits under Moltface's care? She knows hunger, the memory of soaking cardboard clinging to her pelt. There is a shiver despite not feeling the cold, not with warm blood pooling down her pelt.

She's not taking chances, she refuses to face hunger without a fight. Myrtlepaw is an obstacle, no matter how doe-eyed she looks. No matter the fear the other clearly seems to be feeling with all the chaos around her. The chaos is a song to her, she treats it like a symphony calling to her rather than give in to the wobbling of her legs. This carries on, Puddlepaw jumps and attacks, Myrtlepaw defends herself. Blood is shed, the majority it is only the ThunderClanners. The chimera could almost pretend that it's a dance, until the crescendo of the gorey affairs around them arrive. Puddlepaw is on top of the apprentice again, this time grounding herself so she can't be kicked off.

She tears and claws, trying to recall limited knowledge from her spars both with peers and her mentor. A stray paw batters at her in return, she notices once again there is no heart in it though. Then it all stops, Puddlepaw's own claws find their way to Myrtlepaw's throat. With a jerk of her wrist she tears it open, peeling back a layer of fruit in a way. She continues until everything catches up to her, until her wounded shoulder began to burn. Sanguine hunger is quelled along with the blood pounding in her ears, she doesn't realise what she's done until the gurgling began. Reality sinks in, the seering pain of her shoulder, the metallic scent of blood, the viscera she will never be able to scrape out of her claws. Myrtlepaw can only see her, it is a fact she's not aware of, that she will never see her own family or littermate again. Only met with a blank expression and for once, wide and feral copper eyes staring back at her. Mist bellows out from her maw as she pants, this is the most she has ever openly expressed and she doesn't know what that means.

The song is loud and beautiful and I am so very afraid

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PUDDLEPAWBIOGRAPHYㅤ/ㅤTOYHOU.SE
: ̗̀➛ㅤfemale (she / her)ㅤ/ㅤunknown sexuality
: ̗̀➛ㅤ07 moons oldㅤ/ㅤages realistically, every 8th of the month
: ̗̀➛ㅤapprentice of ShadowClan for 02 moons
: ̗̀➛ㅤSister of Buzzardpawㅤ/ㅤApprentice of Wormwatcher
: ̗̀➛ㅤpenned by Juiceㅤ/ㅤmessage Ouijeejuice on discord for plots!

A slick rosette fawn tabby / rosette black tabby chimera. Quiet and calculating, struggles being able to describe or identify her own or others emotions. All opinions are IC as she can be quite harsh in her judgements.
 
Of course he would be displeased. Though his answer causes something ugly to stir in her gut. So much so she responds with venom. "What for? Another one of you will chase me down. Don't think I can't see Sharpshadow being attacked by two of your kind." It bothered her to no end. How he thought what he was doing was right, but failing to see or any of the Thunderclanners were any different from Shadowclan. "And here I thought Thunderclan was honorable. I bet you think Gentlestorm trespassing and attempting to steal our herbs, almost killing a Shadowclan warrior was honorable too." Where does Thunderclan's excuses end? Always thinking they're noble.

Claws graze against flesh. The scowl she had bore morphs into a smile, "You're no better than us."

She can't say she is surprised of the rage within his, nor that he would close the distance between them. She would be far more surprised if he opted to fight at a distance, after all why would he? He was bigger than her and from experience, those who were bigger wanted to fight up close and personal. To pin smaller foes down and have their way at them. Why bother with it? A good smack, regardless of where it hit was enough to seriously hinder a smaller foe.

There is little she can do to avoid his claws, but she refuses to allow him to have such an easy opponent. And so she takes his blow. Feeling nothing but searing pain as an unsheathed claw rakes her head, though she does not fight it. No, she lets his power guide her. Perhaps it looks as if he struck her with so much power that her head practically kisses the ground, but it is of her design. Her limbs bend along with her. Roaringsun is a warrior alright. Even though she had trained herself to withstand varying degrees of pain, the wound he had inflicted on her burned.

Her tail, which had been tucked now rests against powdery white. Unsheathed claws dig into the cold ground, as she takes his second blow. This time, it is enough to cause a low hiss to escape her throat. Unfortunately, she doesn't lose her footing. He does manage to get her to bend her limbs further and slide a tiny bit, but with the aid of her tail as an anchor (despite the pain that shot from it being used as one) keeps her in place more or less.

In a flash of white she springs forwards, a powdery white cloud left in her wake. With claws outstretched, she attempts to sink them in his chest and rake them down. Fangs quickly following suit, trying to bite flame pelted warrior's throat.

Perhaps its foolish to even bother biting his throat, considering the great mane he bore. However, in that moment... She had deduced this: I can't let him bite my neck! Making his life harder by trying to reduce the movement of his head by biting or trying to at the very least cause him to move away was a win in her eyes at the very least.

And yet, she could feel it. Her own exhaustion and hunger catching up with her. Leafbare for Shadowclan was unkind for them this year. So much was lost. All of them had been running themselves ragged for moons now. They were skinny as ever. Their dens let in the chill of Leaf-bare, leaving them all shivering through the night or sniffling. And now? The blood that Roaringsun drew from her began to run down into her eyes, blurring her vision. While not a painful sensation, it was frankly annoying.

At least you're not here Haretooth. A weak smile curls from her lips. Yes, her younger brother is safe in camp. Away from this bloodshed. Away from all this nonsense.

// attacking @roaringsun >:3
 
Dayfern

Status: Fighting, Determined



Dayfern giggles in the bushes as she watches the Shadowclanner trying to find her. When his eyes meet hers, she hisses in retaliation. "Not a coward." As he leaps towards her, she waits until the last minute before moving, dodging under him and away from his claws, feeling the brush of them against her tail before she's gone. "Smart!" She screeches as she turns and attempts to latch onto his back leg, biting down as hard as she can. She watches his face and claws, keeping an eye on his next move. She uses her back legs to attempt to pummel the other leg that she isn't latched to, trying to make him fall.

She has zeroed in on her fight with the tom. The sounds of battles around them fading into the background, most of her focus on her opponent. She still kept a small amount of notice around them incase of an ambush. She couldn't afford a two on one fight, not with her size.

He claims this was Shadowclan land. But it was Thunderclan's first. The marsh dwellers had stolen it. She thinks back to those still at camp, her brows furrow in concentration. She was determined that they would claim this land back. What was rightfully Thunderclan's. She growl's at the tom, glaring at him from her position on the ground. She wasn't a coward and she wasn't giving up. They would reclaim what was theirs.


  • OOC: fighting @RIBBITLEAP Rolled for dodging: 20 therefore successful.
  • Dayfern - Female black tortie silver blotched tabby ☼ She/Her ☼ Warrior of Thunderclan ☼ Penned by Snowy ☼ 25 moons
    ☼ Contact TimelordSnowy on Discord for plotting
    "Speech"
    Thoughts
    oj13Own.png

 
⊱⊰ The battle rages around her, and still Hopepaw advances onward. Her post is not entirely abandoned, a circle established around her herbs that she won't leave the radius of. And it is not far from this post that she seems to have attracted unwanted attention (although, is it truly unwanted, she wonders? Hopepaw can feel the thrum of anticipation beneath her skin, itching for a fight, for a reason to bare her claws and actually do something useful for her clan.). A smaller cat, presumably an apprentice but perhaps a younger one, bounds toward her, letting out her own determined battle cry. At the sight of claws coming right for her face, copper eyes widen, and she can't help the slightly-panicked way that she moves next—as put-together as she tries to seem, the sudden movement catches her off guard. She jerks her head backward, ears pinned flat as she barely manages to stay out of the tabby's range. The girl appears young, not yet grown out of childish bravado and clearly eager for her very first taste of battle.

Foolish kit, playing at war. You make a mockery of it. The rest of us live it.

But no matter. Kit-like and bumbling or not, this is a ShadowClanner with intent to kill, and Hopepaw cannot be killed. She isn't egotistical enough to say that she is too important to die, but she knows the weight that rides atop thin, lilac-swathed shoulders. She also knows the cost of failure. Even the cost of victory is sometimes too high. She must pull herself to the other side of this fight through whatever means necessary. She raises a paw to smack at the apprentice who is probably looking for her first battle scars, but before she can swing the smaller cat manages to slip straight through her defenses. Needle-sharp teeth sink into the meat of her hindleg, where the fur is thin. The girl's lips peel back in a sharp snarl, pearlescent teeth gleaming as she rears back in surprise. She twists, and a heavy paw aims to slam down upon the crown of Bouncepaw's head, claws extended.

Hopepaw may be a medicine cat's apprentice, but she is Gentlestorm's niece as well. She is honed into something—a tool for her clan, a shield. Still sharp at the edges. Still dangerous. Still capable of throwing this cat back across the border where she and her ilk belong. With a heavy growl, Hopepaw aims to slam her shoulder into Bouncepaw's, throwing her full weight against the younger cat. Shoving opponents to the ground makes a powerful warrior's job easier; from an advantageous position, she can rain heavier and heavier blows down on the enemy until they give up or are forced to do so.

  • ooc: fighting @BOUNCEPAW
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  • 90585542_sQlMGwBhz4rUlvm.png
    HOPEPAW ❯❯ she/her, thunderclan medicine cat apprentice

    skinny, thick-furred lilac molly with deep copper eyes. soft-spoken and a bit of a grouch.
    daughter of batwing and leopardtongue ; adopted by roeflame
    mentored by gentlestorm
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ; does not typically like physical contact from anyone besides her family
    penned by foxlore
 
TW DEATH

Do not apologize; you sound like a kit.

Was it a kit's dream to wish that the five clans could find peace among their code and have a codependence without war? How was that such a bad thing? There were lands beyond the borders, and did they not coexist moderately fine back before they were split into colonies—before the great war? Perhaps her dreams that everyone could get along were far-fetched, but it never stopped her from trying. She has a moment to breathe and feel away from the claws, but it hurts, and she would rather be hurt than her clanmates. Myrtlepaw is just lucky that her brother wasn't on today's patrol, as she can only imagine his timid face back when Skyclaw's minions overtook camp. If anything, she would make it home and spend some time in the medicine den with her baby brother cuddled up in her plush coat.

"Violence gets us nowhere. It's an endless cycle."

The apprentice would respond with a shake of her head, forelegs trembling in pain from their wounds. She grits her teeth in the hopes that perhaps the other person will see reason—reason—that this would keep happening unless something changed, and Puddlepaw leaps upon her. Myrtlepaw manages to get a firm grip and is ready to shove the other off, ready to escape and return the comfort and warmth of the apprentice's den. Her head jerks back as her momentarily weakness allows for Puddlepaw to find surface at her throat without a hesitation's grasp: blood splatters across her face and stains the ground underneath her. As she chokes and gurgles on her own blood, her last bit of strength is used to unbalance the other from her as she grasps at her throat.

The world's darkness threatens her vision as she struggles to stay awake, attempting to crawl for a moment as a paw reaches back in the direction of camp. "S-Sp...ider...paw.... I'm.... so-sorry..." She wheezes with great difficulty before she collapses limp before Puddlepaw as her doe-eyed gaze fades to darkness. The blood stains her soft silken coat, a new experience for the young girl who always enjoyed decorating and grooming herself, and the air is heavy with the pungent smell of blood in her final moments. All she can hope is that Spiderpaw doesn't grieve too much and can find happiness in the future and that Coltpaw isn't bullied for being a kittypet and lives to get his warrior name.

Hopepaw would make a great medicine cat one day; there was no doubt that her friend would. It had been a wonderful journey watching her find herself comfortable now as an apprentice under the watchful eye of Gentlestorm. Bugchaser and Shroudedbeam were going to be astonishing warriors, and there's so much she wishes she did now. Myrtlepaw hopes that Orangeheart can find happiness for himself instead of reflecting it off others and letting others constantly step over him. She wonders if she lived for another moon, then what would her warrior name be?

She'd never receive her warrior name, but that was okay.

It was better that her death happened instead of anyone else's.