border it's just a hunch / duskclanners

[RUMBLERAIN]

A moon and no sign of their deputy ... Rumblerain frets quietly about the missing tom, tail flicking back and forth in silent agitation. There's not even any guarantee his scent would lead here, or that it would be noticeable after so long of a time, but Rumblerain has to try. They would be a poor leader if they didn't; even poorer than they already are, missing for a moon when they thought they would be gone for half as long.

"His scent is flowery, a bit like the gorse at camp. Golden fur, short." Rumblerain explains quietly to those who do not know what they're looking for, attention flicking vaguely across Berrypaw and Coyotecrown. Maybe they can find some tufts ... something, anything. If they were to have closure on anything in their life, Rumblerain would ensure it would be this. To Ebonylight, and Gravelspark, they call in a gentle meow, "Any luck?"

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦

• // @berrypaw @Coyote. @GRAVELSPARK @Ebonylight.
  this is not a pafp, but please do not flood this thread with windclanners! the duskclan group is sniffing around a few fox-lengths from the border.
• 
  
  [ art by antiigone ]
• RUMBLERAIN ✧ they/them, leader of duskclan
  
  
  — "a lanky, scruffy seal and white point with blue eyes."
  — single ; mentoring berrypaw
  — speech is in #858AC0
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[THISTLEPAW !]

---

Pale fur is ruffled by a chilly autumnal breeze as Thistlepaw dutifully follows after the patrol, his frosted eyes narrowed into slits as he gazes into the distance, at Highstones. Not long ago Sunstar ( or whatever his name is now - he had only known him as Sunstar ) and Wolfsong had left the Clan entirely, and his aunt had abruptly risen to leadership.

Thistlepaw wonders how life will be now, and who Scorchstar would choose as her second-in-command.

The apprentice doesn't notice he's lagging behind his patrolmates until an unfamiliar scent reaches his nose — was it some barncat walking around or. . . his eyes widen as he spots a group skulking by the border. Barncats wouldn't be so. . . so sneaky about it, surely? And they were a bit far from the farm. Could they be Duskclanners?

"Gravelsnap!" He calls his mentor, but approaches the figures before he's even made sure he's been heard. His neck fur bristles aggressively when he gets closer, wanting to prove he's more than ready to protect WindClan if it came down to it ( but he's also overwhelmed by the amount of cats at the border and silently hopes they won't attack him ). "You! What is your business with WindClan?" Thistlepaw shouts, trying to appear intimidating despite clearly not striking any fear. Without waiting for any of them to answer, the young apprentice keeps talking. "Are you DuskClan? Leave, leave now! When the patrol sees you here someone will be sent to fetch Scorchstar. Leave!" And then it hits him.

"Are you looking for Thriftfeather?" Maybe this isn't right, to be revealing so much to the enemy. But StarClan forbid that traitor spend a moment longer in their camp, eating their food, all because he had kits with Bluefrost. "He has no place in WindClan, take him with you." DuskClan is where Thriftfeather belonged.

𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 *:･ﾟ✧ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓

• 
  ooc. — mentor tag @GRAVELSNAP
  semi-ish pre-planned interaction with Rumblerain!
  
• 
  

  LH Seal-point with low white​

  
• 
  
  
  THISTLEPAW he / him apprentice of windclan
  son of Rattleheart x Venomstrike, brother to Bunnypaw, Crunchykit, Vinekit and Splinterkit.
  Lissom seal-point prickly-furred kitten with white markings on his face, chest, belly, paws and tail. His tail is long and has a tufted tip.
  "speech" thoughts

​

 

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　It is Thistlepaw's yelling which draws the spiky-furred apprentice near. They skitter closer on anxious paws, brow furrowed with worry. Something is wrong.

And then - she sees them. Rumblerain, Ebonylight. Gravelpaw. Their heart leaps into their throat, a choking sensation, and glinting golden eyes blow wide. "Oh... Oh no, oh no..." They stumble back, feeling the adrenaline course through their veins. They can see her. Alive and whole, a traitor who fled from the scrublands. They're going to want him back - if they don't just want him dead.

Thistlepaw marches right up to them, chest puffed out. It's as if he's daring them to sink their teeth into his throat. He doesn't remember, he was too young. He doesn't have the nightmarish image of Ebonylight spilling red red red from Nightingalecry's body. Their breaths are quick, gasping.

"Thistlepaw!" they yowl, hardly hearing their own words over the rush of blood in their ears. They charge forwards through the haze of fear, getting all too close to his own kidnappers. Thistlepaw's going to get himself killed - and he seems determined to get Thriftfeather killed as well. Can you keep a secret? He'd asked Gravelpaw before. It had been in vain, it seems. He doesn't look to her now, keeping their burning gaze upon the other apprentice.

They hiss as lowly as they can manage, hoping the DuskClanners won't hear. "Th-thats not your d-d-d... d-decision tuh-to make." Terror spills through every word in a hushed snarl, his whole body shaking with it.

I HAD TO LEARN THAT THE HELPING HAND ⛧ CAN BE THE SAME THAT HOLDS THE KNIFE

• 
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / they / she, apprentice of windclan, eight moons.
  ➳ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
  ➳ skittish and dour, with a superstitious sort of pessimism.
  ➳ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze.
  ➳ sibling to dustpaw, bilberrypaw, mourningpaw and weepingpaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

"Rumblerain?"

It's a small voice she speaks in. She looms at the border like the mountains she'd abandoned them for. It's been moons since she has seen her littermate — longer still since she has talked to them. They don't know my name. They hadn't known Frostwind's. He'd told her after the fact; he'd told her that he should have fought them, maybe even killed them. Another Dappledsun to bury. Scorchstorm had told him in turn that she'd be the one to bring their sibling home. It is harrowing that she has the chance, now, and even more harrowing that she cannot tell how she feels about it.

They are still so skinny. They resemble little of the fat-cheeked kitten they'd once been, curious and kind and timid. Scorchstorm dwarfs them now as she does most other WindClanners — but Rumblerain is not a WindClanner. Not anymore. Not yet, part of her begs, and yet....

Thistlepaw's screech snaps her from her glacial stasis. Scorchstorm forges her defenses in steel. Guardedness slips down her face like a visor as she regards the several other DuskClanners present (the real DuskClanners, she thinks, despite Rumblerain being the cat at their helm). She recognizes Gravelspark, though not by that name, and she dampens; the kit, too, drapes dread over her shoulders in one great paludamentum. They are not a real Clan. She had told Gravelspark as much. And yet the faction struggles on, and under Rumblerain's leadership no less. If they were to come to WindClan — come home — would DuskClan cease to exist?

Are you looking for Thriftfeather? "Thistlepaw," the lead warrior rumbles in warning, a diesel motor. She understands his anger. She hates DuskClan as much as he does, as much as any WindClanner does, but revealing too much could lead to another invasion on a full moon. We cannot give them anything to invade us for.

Vulturepaw is next to arrive in a panic — and she's right as she hisses low to Thistlepaw, though Scorchstorm doesn't hear it. She steps forward, putting herself between WindClan's (brash, bull-headed, stupid but invaluable) apprentices and the DuskClan patrol. Her hackles prickle with cautious hostility. I can't chase Rumblerain away. I need to talk to them. But WindClan could very well be in danger, and what lead warrior is she if she just watches?

How cruel is it that Thriftfeather can join their ranks, but her sibling cannot? How cruel is it that she must send them away now, when they are the only cat she has wanted to see in moons? How cruel is it that she cannot bring herself to fight them fully as an enemy? That she is too selfish to do that much for her Clan?

When Scorchstorm threatens the patrol, it is not Rumblerain that she threatens. Her dual-toned gaze locks on Ebonylight instead, scale-black lips peeling away from ghost-light teeth. "You will leave, and you will do it now," she tells the patrol, though she keeps her gaze pointedly away from her littermate. "Or else you can join your fallen clanmates in the afterlife."

And she means it, and it hurts to mean it, really. When she rakes her gaze across Gravelspark and Berrypaw, it hurts; when she cannot face her littermate even as an enemy, it hurts; when she sees Ebonylight and remembers Nightingalecry, it hurts. She gambles a backwards glance to Gravelsnap, to Buckfire; to the other warriors that make up their patrol. StarClan help them make good on her promise to the DuskClanners. They will fall like Honeybadger fell if they lay a claw over the border.

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 ✧

• ooc. ninja'd! :'- ) apprentice tag: @BUCKFIRE
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— lead warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 18 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

• 

​

 

[berrypaw]

༻✦༺ The girl’s first patrol is to the WindClan border. WindClan is a clan, according to the older DuskClanners, and they don’t like DuskClan at all. But if they’re only searching for Thriftfeather, whoever he is, then there shouldn’t be any problems or aggression from these WindClan cats. Arethusakit—no, she’s Berrypaw now—stares soft-eyed across the border and into the lush moorland. It’s as though the whole world has opened up, a flower showing its petals. Maybe leaving home wasn’t a bad idea, after all. She just wishes her Mama could have come with her and Mizzle.

Rumblerain describes the smell of Thriftfeather to them, but it doesn’t help very much. Berrypaw can’t smell much of anything out here. How is she supposed to smell one cat in the middle of nowhere, with all these overlapping scents mingling to form an impenetrable wall of smell? She turns to her parent and asks, "What if we can’t find him?" The question has hardly left her blue-specked muzzle when a voice shouts out at them and a small cat comes barrelling toward them. The cat’s fur is fully bristled in anger, and he shouts at them all to leave. He mentions Thriftfeather somewhere in the midst of his yelling, but there’s no time to ask about him. Another cat appears, dark-furred and shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"Rain… Raindrop!" She squeaks out her pointed parent’s name, scrambling back to stand by their flank. She doesn’t move away again, hovering close by to keep as far away from the loud, scary cats as possible. Then a huge, bulky red-patched cat with yellow-orange eyes (bright pretty eyes, like the lightbulbs she remembers from home, but blazing with fury) stalks forward and hisses out a threat. She tells them all to leave just like the first, smaller cat had. Berrypaw is caught between obeying and attempting to sink into Rumblerain’s side. "Why are they so mad? Why do we have to leave?" Her voice wavers, dark tail flicking anxiously against the leader’s paws. Being so close to them now makes her nervous, but at least her parent has grown familiar to her. At least they aren’t yelling—yet.

kore kore 𓆩✧𓆪 fauna and flora

• ooc: —
• 
• BERRYPAW ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ she/her, apprentice of duskclan
  ☆ small white apprentice with a black dorsal stripe, black paws, and blue point markings fading up her forelegs. eyes are mismatched blue and green.
  ☆ daughter to edenberry and rumblerain ; sister to mizzlekit
  ☆ mentored by rumblerain
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ☆ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[RUMBLERAIN]

"Then we go home." Rumblerain mews, an air of nonchalant ease to them as if they're lamenting a lack of prey instead of a missing Clanmate.

It isn't long before their patrol is accosted. The sight of their mirror in miniature earns the vague quirk of a smile from DuskClan's leader, though it's lost immediately knowing that Gravelsnap is nearby. They're glad to know the tuxedo tom had survived the attack on camp, but his lack of mercy meant bad news should his claws find purchase in their patrol. Worse news still is the apprentice's assertion that they would be taken to Scorchstar. Scorchstar? Had Sunstar squandered his excess lives so quickly? For the first time, a flicker of uncertainly crosses their muzzle. They had been safe, somewhat, with Sunstar at WindClan's helm. The arrival of their mother's reign brings with it only once certainly: that unspoken respect, or whatever it had elsewise been, was moot.

"Thriftfeather is here, then." Rumblerain meows, certainty drawing their posture upright even though their mind still reels at the mention of Scorchstar. The presence of DuskClan's deputy would drive her to the brink, had he not already divulged everything in his memory.

Thank the stars for WindClan's harebrained apprentices, loose tongues and empty space between their ears providing DuskClan with information without having ever asked. A flicker of recognition lights up blue eyes at the sight of the dark tabby, who introduces Thistlepaw with a panicked hiss. It seems Vulturekit - Vulturepaw, now, surely - had found her way home. Rumblerain cares little for the knowledge, though a touch of some indescribable satisfaction sharpens their gaze at the sight. Kit-stealing had been a staple of Granitepelt's rule, not their own (though, resignedly, they know that Ebonylight would repeat the offense if given the chance).

As if StarClan themselves had deigned to make Rumblerain's day worse, the flame-licked coat of their sister is the next to crest the small ridge. They think Scorchstorm their mother for a harrowing heartbeat, and much like the tortoiseshell for which she'd been named Scorchstorm wastes no time in demanding their patrol leave. It's only their littermate however, and Rumblerain's fear evaporates like the first rain from a sun-hot stone. That reaction, unfortunately, isn't shared.

A panicked squeak and the presence of their kit at their side alerts the leader to Berrypaw nearby. Why was WindClan angry? Why did they have to leave? Rumblerain shushes her gently, as if they were soothing her back to sleep rather than telling her to hold her tongue. They don't have an answer for her right now, and a history lesson could wait.

Ebonylight and Gravelspark are trained warriors, Coyotecrown capable in her own right; but their daughter, their apprentice, is not so accomplished. Rumblerain's head lowers defensively as they're challenged, widening their stance so that they're standing in front of Berrypaw. You will not touch them, sister.

They aren't attacked immediately, though the tension in the air threatens to spill over. After a moment of nothing, the DuskClanner's head slowly lifts once more. Rumblerain's tongue swipes across their maw, tensed from ears to lashing tail.

They do not dare move ice-chip eyes from the WindClanners (from Scorchstorm) but meow to their Clanmates:

"If Thriftfeather is here, he is as good as dead. We can go." They wait a heartbeat in the wake of the decision, to see if their Clanmates wanted to sling any final barbs.

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦

•  
• 
  
  [ art by antiigone ]
• RUMBLERAIN ✧ they/them, leader of duskclan
  
  
  — "a lanky, scruffy seal and white point with blue eyes."
  — single ; mentoring berrypaw
  — speech is in #858AC0
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

LIKE A PICTURE IN A FRAME
WISH WE COULD'VE STAYED THE SAME ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

periwinklebreeze ❀ 27 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan lead warrior ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Periwinklebreeze drifts, far behind his apprentice - patrols so routine he no longer frets over every little thing, content to enjoy the wind and the sun while he can. Today, it proves to be a mistake - blackened paws moving far too slow, the lead warrior only able to let out a hissed curse as he stumbles upon the scene. Thistlepaw says far too much, and while a brief glare is sent the apprentices way - there will be a talk, he thinks, about spilling windclans secrets to outsiders - he's far more focused on his own apprentice.. and the cats he's speaking to.

Body moves without thought, growl rising deep in his throat - Vulturepaw shoved backwards with more force then necessary as he places himself between his apprentice and the self proclaimed 'duskclanners'. In that moment, he is not acting as lead warrior, or as a mentor with his apprentice - he is simply a concerned father, faced with his sisters killer standing only fox-lengths away from his child. " L-leave! Now! " he echoes Scorchstorm, snarling like a feral dog.

It is only the cry of a kit masquerading as an apprentice that stays his paws - the urge to sink fangs into Ebonylight's throat almost too much, claws digging into the earth as they unsheathe.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I ' V E - A L W A Y S - B E E N - R E A L - B A D - W I T H - C H A N G E

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 

[Coyotecrown]

It was disappointing to not see a rotting body on the moors, Coyotecrown's gaze flickers to where Milkthorn's body would have laid if that wretched little revenant wasn't so determined to cling onto life. Or WindClan is dutiful in their cleaning, one of these facts must hold true. She's here to observe more than anything else, to be a pair of claws and fangs if it came to it too she supposed. Her leaders instructions is given a nod, a body to look for other than the one she personally held interest in. Berrypaw asks the questions that she dares not, this is excellent because it doesn't look foolish if a child is the one to ask them.

It's amusing to see how stupid the clan is, it seems they're no different to SkyClan in that regard. If anything she deems these warriors softer for not immediately jumping at their throats. Even kind enough to give information away with no threats or questions from their end. She attributes this to Rumblerain's capabilities of a leader, although lacking in some areas it seems they are fitting for communications with other clans. Judging by how the tortoiseshell addresses them she has to assume there are other reasons for them showing their underbellies despite snarls and hisses.

She is reminded very well of her sisters explanation of DuskClan, how WindClan has treated these cats. The biased narrative is the only one she chooses to hear, as result she sneers at those gathered and with a flick of her tail nods at Rumblerain's decision. In this moment this is not her fight, no biting remarks would come from her. She plays the role as the scribe, holding as much information surrounding these dynamics as she can so she can maybe let Vixenblood and Viperstrike know of what she's slowly becoming privy to.

‎‎ ‎OOC ✙ BABY NOTHING COMES FOR FREE ‎

• 

• COYOTECROWN
  She / her, Rogue, 17 moons (ages on the 3rd)
  ✥ NPC x NPC | Sibling to Vixenblood, Viperstrike, Kitestorm, Hawk, Wolf, Spider & Shrike
  ✥A long haired tortoiseshell with hazel eyes | Judgemental and spiteful, a cat that lacks respect for others and refuses to feign it.
  ✥ "speech" | thoughts | attacking
  ✥ All opinions are IC only!

​

 

[deathpaw]

[ @FROSTWIND mentor tag :3 ]

Deathpaw descends on a lonely songbird just as the shouting begins. Her ears stand tall, little satellites in their own right, and her gaze flutters over her mentor briefly. They're not far from the border she supposes, and if it is true trouble, then they should provide back up, right? Once she has the go ahead from Frostwind, she trots ahead (surely with him not long behind her.)

The chaos is something she's too inept to decipher. Family, family, and more family - kin separated from her bickering about that bothersome tom they harbor in the nursery. She clicks her tongue as Thistlepaw barks no different than a dog. He'd be fun in spars... she thinks. Her gaze turns to the rest of the group up until she sees... Ebonylight.

It's been moons. Moons. But that's her dad. Her eyes widen slightly, and the blood of the bird between her teeth tastes too warm, especially as she looks on to the DuskClan patrol and sees that they are hardly skin and bone. She swallows, but says nothing to the charcoal tabby across the border. She simply nods towards him an indiscernible amount and remains in her rank until they are each dismissed once again.​

 

[GRAVELSPARK]

When Gravel returns to the Windclan border, they return as a warrior and not as an apprentice. There is a certain sense of dread that has filled their bones since Rumblerain had picked them for the patrol, carrying their emotions in their heart, heavy, heavy, heavy...

When Berrypaw turns to ask Rumblerain what happens if they can't find him, Gravelspark cannot help the rolling vitriol and disdain from rolling from their tongue. "Then we'll never find him, thats that." if anyone deserves to answer this, it's her, her, her, her, pupils pinprick as another wave of anger crashes over them and they feel heavy once more.

They're greeted by a small apprentice first, not someone that Gravelspark wants to see, not the someone they call a friend. Insignificant, their cruelty surprises them. Next to pop up is Vulturepaw, who looks anywhere but them and their cool demeanor evaporates in an instant. I didn't do this, she mouths, ears flattening as she watches Vulturepaw bristle and fluff up like the balls of grass that roll around in the barren wasteland they call home. Vulturepaw avoids their gaze- their pleas fall on deaf ears... The first apprentice mentions Thriftfeather, the one she had been looking for tirelessly, and she tunes in, trying to ignore how the guilt begins to build.

A pelt on fire brandishes like a jumping ember from the long grasses, hissing a warning at the brainless apprentice that reveals where her mentor had gone. All at once and once too fast, their blood turns to ice. Their throat closes and they're left trying to breathe, pick up pieces of them that broke off. Her gaze, once it rakes over her, feels as if she had been stung by burning coals and not just anger that had never touched her with claws. Something explodes in their chest and all of the sudden she feels like a deer stuck in the wrong time and place, staring straight into the eyes of death. It takes everything in their power not to crumble in to a crouch. Someone rushes forth and shoves Vulturepaw behind them, snarling like a parent... Something they've never seen Ebonylight do, the latter always calculating, poison-sweet. The mental image of a gentle face that looks a little bit too much like their own, unseen in moons, suddenly makes its way in to the back of their mind, a blurry thing...

I want to go, please let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go, a panicked glance is sent backwards, suffocating under the weight of their own sins. They can run. They can run now, they could go, they could never look back.

Instead, their claws dig harshly in to the dirt below, biting their lip so hard that it draws blood. And still, they bristle in their own way, entirely out of guilt, out of fear. They shift more towards Rumblerain than Ebonylight in these moments, even being near their self-proclaimed parent making them sick as they become acutely aware of how they're being perceived. They want to run away. They want to go far, far away from here. They want to go home, wherever that is... For surely it is not Duskclan, anymore. "Okay." they force their voice to remain flat as they step back, as per Rumblerains instructions, watching to see if Berrypaw would step back as well. They do not spare a single other glance to any other Duskclanners. They cannot.

𝖨𝖵𝖤 𝖡𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖮𝖴𝖳 𝖮𝖥 𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬𝖲 ˚⋆｡°✩₊🦇 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖢𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖲𝖠𝖸 𝖨 𝖣𝖨𝖣𝖭𝖳 𝖳𝖱𝖸

• 
  ❥ gravelspark 𓆩✧𓆪 baby, gravelkit, gravelpaw
  ❥ demi-girl 𓆩✧𓆪 she/they 𓆩✧𓆪 09 months
  ❥ duskclan warrior 𓆩✧𓆪 mentored by thriftfeather
  ❥ black/blue smoke chimera with high white and blue eyes
  ❥ "speech, 9d9adf" 𓆩✧𓆪 thoughts
  ❥ single 𓆩✧𓆪 not interested in love (unknown sexuality)
  ❥ smells like chilled rain and pine needles 𓆩✧𓆪 nostalgic & icy
  ❥ penned by chuff

​

 

[Ebonylight.]

*+:｡.｡ TW and IC opinions </3

Ebonylight rolls their eyes, snickering at Rumblerain's description of Duskclan's mysteriously missing second-in-command. He imagines mirthfully how flowery that scent will be once they come across his body. If he had to choose, he'd imagine roadkill-feather would smell much more delightful. Padding behind the patrol, Ebonylight keeps their unusual eyes trained on Rumblerain, watching the way their tension makes their snowy fur ripple against the breeze. To think, a rag-tag group of blood-thirsty savages would care so much when one of them goes missing...However that more so goes to show how poorly Rumblerain and Thriftfeather fit into Sootstar's fantasy army.
He wonders what the fallen Queen would think of them now?
Ebonylight wonders if he cares to know anymore.

A whining little whelp is the first to confront them. Ebonylight wonders what a squeaky voice like that would sound like, gurgling over spilled blood. She pulls up a fond memory of Nightingalecry instead and sighs lovingly into the still night. When he opens his eyes again, it's to take note of the new trembling voice that has joined the first, a familiar thing. "Oh Vulturekit, look at you, you've gotten so big" Ebonylight purrs, teeth shards of moonlight as they watch the wriggling thing squirm in their own skin, "don't you miss us?" It was a shame Ebonylight never properly got to know his nephew. A shame he couldn't whisper doubts into the mongrel's ear about her place in Windclan, how shaky the foundation was for one who shared no blood, who allowed themselves to be carted away into the night.
He watches Gravelspark closely, the broken look in her eyes.
Ebonylight's grin twitches, disgust growing in her stomach.
That dirt stained wretch has a hold on my treasure.

Her attention is pulled back when a threat is leveled her way. She meets Scorchstorm's mosaic eyes with a smile no less all-consuming upon her darkly painted features. A shiver rises from the base of her tail upwards, pricking at her ear tips. Ebonylight loves a good joke, and nothing is more humorous than to see one so eager to rip out her throat stand stiff behind an invisible line. It's maddening how little control Ebonylight has over her fate, yet so long as she keeps her paws on the right side, she's set to live another day. It makes staring into the abyss so very beautiful indeed. A taste of her shaky mortality without commitment.

Ebonylight winks affectionately at Scorchstorm.

Periwinklebreeze is next, all flame and fury despite the shake in their voice. Ebonylight actually giggles at the comparison between Scorchstorm's harsh command and Periwinkle's passionate squeak. "Oh...you sound just like she used to" Ebonylight meows fondly to the faux point, his heart hammering against his chest as he pictures Nightingalecry in his place, voice trembling just the same, wildfire eyes brilliant only in its final extinguishing burst of life. How he wishes he could take Periwinklebreeze's, just to feel the warmth of his lover's snuffed flame one last time...

Behind him, though, is his child. Deathpaw, with blood streaking her mouth in a show of victory for a successful catch. It warms his heart to see her so big, to see a spark of recognition in her familiar eyes.
Suddenly, that funny little line that keeps his throat from being torn by two sets of vengeful teeth feels a little less easy to ignore.

He makes do with what he can - a consolation prize in the form of his acquired treasure - and lays his tail on Gravelspark's shoulder. "You were very brave, little pebble" he whispers into her ear, following her away from the border, away from the memory of Nightingalecry and the child she stole from him.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 4/13/24

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• 
  
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ‡ Ebonylight
  ‡ DFAB— He/They/She — Pansexual
  ‡ 18 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ‡ Duskclan (Rogue)
  ‡ Mates with Nightingalecry, father to Frightkit, Deathkit and Witherkit
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ‡ Physically hard | mentally hard
  ‡ Attack in bold black
  
  injuries: None currently
  

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