pafp I'VE BEEN SO GRACIOUS ✘ WAR

[SMOKESTAR]

—————————————————————⊰★⊱————————————————————

"Any cat who is able bodied and capable of fighting gather around, we are dealing with this now before it escalates any further." Smokestar's voice was a low smolder of a growl, his tone curt and clipped, the anger in every word almost palpable. He was brimming with fury, claws digging into the ground reflexively as he paced back and forth with lashing tail and bristling fur. "A patrol caught a heavy scent of the rogues near the border further upriver, the area iced over overnight from the cold but it should suffice for a temporary shortcut to reach them. We will be driving every last one of them out and killing the ones who don't turn tail and run. No mercy, not a drop of it. A kit is missing because of them, they slaughtered several of our clanmates-you will NOT give them sympathy."
Clayfur, Lightningstone, Oxbowpaw...not to even count the cats who were injured like his own deputy and medicine cat apprentice and poor newly named Robinheart. He'd lost a life to these wretches but it had not hurt as much as the ache in his chest at his clan's peace being so violently torn apart after an already cruel leafbare. Rogues had taken from them before, they took from them now, he would not let them continue to take. The dark furred tom's teeth flashed in a snarl, "RiverClan, with ME. We leave immediately!"
Pebbles crunch underfoot, his blood boiling the only warmth he finds he needs anymore with a den still empty and far too large for one cat; he glances briefly in the direction of the medicine cat den and the tall reeds shrouding it, his lone orange eye averts to another direction along the river border where they'd buried more bodies than he ever hoped to dig holes for in his life, let alone all at once.

A chill sweeps over the area, wind rolling clouds of white like a great veil across the territory and the open expanse where the water frosted over from the brutal kiss of winter's farewell-a last reminder of the cruelty they had faced before the warmth of newleaf would arrive to melt away the grief. He finds himself thinking once more of the grave by ShadowClan's burnt sycamore where so many of their cats lay under cold earth in unfamiliar land - he wishes desperately they could have brought them to the riverside where they belonged, buried under sand and clay with the waves of the water lapping gently over like a comforting embrace. His heart aches again, the weight of it too much to bare but he continues walking forward with a confidence in every step.
Ice cracks beneath his paws, he sees the silhouettes of figures in the distance who seem alarmed to spot the massive swarm of RiverClanner's approaching over brittle ice. It was a dangerous battlefield, but they had the advantage - the water was not so cold to kill a cat in seconds as it might have been earlier in the season, he remembers brown tabby fur dragging a limp and mottled body from the depths in what seemed like a life ago and he shudders quietly. Unfortunately being not cold enough to kill meant they did not have a lot of time to traverse the treacherous ice. It was clear these rogues were gathering in a last attempt at overtaking them, but they would not get far - they would be dealt with here and now.
"Run for your miserable lives and never come back or your blood will fill the river." He growled, searching the gathered crowd of cats before he spotted a speck of lilac amidst the taller limbs of adult cats and his voice cracked in alarm, "Shellkit!"

✘ I've got a reputation and a name to uphold. ✘ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

• Ooc: This will canonically take place the day AFTER the gathering! The ice is thin in places as the river is not fully frozen over and a cold snap caused this temporary ice bridge to form.
  This thread will conclude the rogue plot, you may kill your character off or have them retreat but the end result will be them being driven out! Please let @SHELLKIT post first!
  
• 
  
  
  Smokestar
  —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

​

 

[shellpaw]

leafbare sings it’s awful lament over the lands ; swathes of white - grey smog lays low over the solid waters, wisping around the stained paws of what shellkit has come to know as red water. in the last few sunrises that she’d spent hidden away in the outskirts of riverclan territory, shellkit had felt herself shift from a uncertain fear to a tired, sneezy cold, all numb paws and small, aching legs. she’d never walked this much before, she’d not even seen so much, not in her whole life — her mind still struggles to comprehend the juts of giant willows and wide, rushing rivers, thick and frozen with slush. this was where her mother’s.. clan liked to reside. it would be pretty, if not for the tinge of darkness lingering at every corner, turning the bittersweet frostlands into something haunted.

she wonders what it would have been like to witness it in her own time, with a mentor her uncle had assigned, alongside her littermates and safely within her territory. would she still be happy to explore, when she returned and finally earned her -paw? would she even return at all?

closer, the rogues whisper amongst themselves, closer, drive them out slow and sure. in the midst of them all, big and tall and snarling as they were, shellkit uncharacteristically knows better than to open her mouth in defiance. they do not layer her with the same smoldering looks of affection as riverclan did. they did not protect her, not in the way riverkit and pebblekit did. the mere thought of her brothers is enough to send tears to already - watering eyes, a brisk sting where wind whips frantically at sensitive lids. it hurts — from her eyes to her nose to her scratchy throat, to where a ball of pain retracts her breath and sends it from her mouth in short puffs where she trudges at the forefront of them. she clings close to kindling’s foreleg, unsure but willing to cling to the only solace she knew. kindling was her momma, and if that was true, then despite her experience in the last few days, she hopes that the woman would take pity on her. like hazecloud or lichentail would, she hoped the molly would forget their forward trudge along thinning ice, soothe her worries and lick her tears. perhaps she would pluck her up like foxtail, guide her to safety away from the crackling ground underpaw.

it never comes, not even as they push against the violent gusts of leafbare chill and shellkit heaves a breath, an alarmingly high keen at the back of her sinuses nearly lost beneath the howl. was this punishment for leaving camp? was starclan angry with her? she was cold, and sore, and the light scratches she’d born over the last few sunrises of impromptu battle moves seem to stretch and pull with each toddling step. this was her fault — she wouldn’t blame the stars if they were angry with her, like she knows smokestar and lichentail and hazecloud would be. she was angry with herself, after all. a red hot rage boiling beneath her skin, clenching jaw and all because she could be at home. she could be at home, and she could have been a kit. she didn’t want to be an apprentice anymore — not like this, not if this was how it would be. the lilac child is tired, fumbling, dove - breathed and fragile ever as the snow.

in a sudden haze of dizziness — be it fear, the wind, the ever - present throbbing at the back of her skull that moonpaw wasn’t there to fix — the girl thinks of her littlest brother. out of the babies, snowflakekit had been too small. that’s what she’d been told, at least.. too small. not for this world, they’d said, the stars had already woven into his pelt. her littlest brother, way up high where they say he was safe, and loved. shellkit wonders if she was like that, too. she wonders if she would get to meet him, if he even knew her at all. she sure hoped he did.

a sudden hiss, a shushing that falls over the group as they halt suddenly on the ice. shellkit bonks directly into her mothers foreleg with her forehead and immediately shrinks back, alarmed. her spine begins to rise, thorn - like claws unsheathing as she was told because thats how you stay alive out here. through the haze of leafbare, she makes out a figure ; a blur of black and bespeckled white. her breath hitches. a shadow of glory, standing against the light — her hero. her leader. and behind him, more begin to appear through the heavy white, mottled color dotting the unfamiliar horizon.

” smokestar! help, plee-e-ease —“ she shrieks back, voice trailing off into a sobbing beg and earning the immediate ire of those around her ; sunspots of rage, glimmering stares fixating on her because what a child. useless. shellkit supposed they were right. regardless, though, the girl takes the opportunity to try and run across the thin ice towards the opposing patrol while her mother is distracted, feeling the paws of rogue following hot after her — though no longer focused solely on her immediate, kitlike betrayal. she couldn’t fight. she couldn’t fight, she lied, she wasn’t an apprentice and she didn’t want to be.

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𓇼 𝙎𝙊 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿

• i.
  
  
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• 
  
  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. TWO MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  delicate lilac - striped molly with sugarplum eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber ---------- ° ❀ ⋆
  

  currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

  
  

​

 

[Hush]

Although Hush had decided to band with the other rogues that surround the area in order to try and take over the territory that RiverClan had long ago claimed as their own, he did not do it for the sake of the kits that Kindling had claimed were stolen. Whether they were or not Hush did not care for he didn't care for children, didn't want to have to worry about them being underpaw or worry about whatever grief any mothers had over starved children while their attempts at guilting those around them to get more food failed over and over again. This knowledge of what Kindling wanted however didn't stop him from being surprised when she'd taken one of her own back, bringing the small fragile thing to the camp that they had created just outside the territory, ears flicking with discontent as the tiny thing cried for family that Hush did not know and he would have said something about how this was not the plan he had agreed to had it not been for the yowl from a patrol of RiverClanners that caught his attention, the cry from young Shellkit as she flew across the ice to get back to the cats she had called family for the majority of her life now.

Ears pinned to head as the big-toothed brute stood in a defensive stance, eyeing those that were around them for just a moment as claws slid from sheaths and more cats filtered in, stepping gently but with purpose on the ice that formed overnight. Though the blood-thirsty tom wanted to fight he waited to see which cats were there, which ones were busy protecting others and which were ready for a fight, ready to be dragged off and killed on their own where their precious clanmates wouldn't notice until it was too late.

OOC : ̗̀➛ NOTES

• He is not open for attacks, has a pre-plotted interaction!

• 

• HUSH NPC x NPC || adopted by Hazel
  -- He/Him || 42 Moons || ages every 1st
  -- large tom, lh tortoishell x blue chimera with duplicated pinnae and large teeth
  -- unsavory, cannibalistic tendencies, enjoys fighting just for fun

​

​

 

[Mosspool]

𓆝 . ° ✦ At Smokestar's call, Mosspool immediately stood at attention. It was time, he said, to put an end to the rogues that had plagued the clan. Good, Mosspool thought, her claws unconsciously unsheathing. The helplessness she had felt as her clanmates suffered while she could do nothing had been becoming to much to bear. Whatever her leader's plan was, she would trust in it, as long as it gave her the opportunity to finally do something.

Each word from Smokestar made her blood burn the same way that the speeches of Cicadastar had before him, back when she was an apprentice. Smokestar could have asked her to march across the world and she would have followed. Her anger made her powerful, and terribly eager to drive her claws into the flesh of Riverclan's enemies.

"Yes sir!" Cold fury burned behind her words, so much so that it was apparent that she did not need Smokestar's reminder. There was no mercy in her heart for those rogues. Deacon had ripped it out of her when he ripped out Clayfur's throat. She only hoped that today she would get the chance to return the favor, her claws dug into the ground at the thought.

Mosspool marched out of camp behind Smokestar, following him all the way to the river, where the rogues finally came into sight. Her eyes narrowed. She did not hesitate to step onto the ice after her leader, only glancing down when she felt it crack beneath her. Though a spiderweb pattern had spread beneath her paws, the ice was holding for now. It was sturdy enough, she decided, and turned her attention to the rogues opposite them.

Though Smokestar bid the rogues to run, part of her hoped they didn't. Her claws scraped against the ice. She wanted to make the river to run red, so that every cat knew the price of taking the life of a Riverclanner.

A cry went up form the other side, and then Mosspool spotted Shellkit racing toward them and the rogue in hot pursuit. She didn't waste a second. Darting forward, she aimed to intercept the rogue chasing Shellkit and slam them into the ice. If it gave way beneath the both of them, all the better. She would drown the fox-heart.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: — open to attacks!
• 

  MOSSPOOL — SHE/HER･ 12 MOONS ･ WARRIOR & RIVERCLAN ･ PENNED BY @empyrean !

  Longhair black tabby with deep green eyes. Mosspaw is a very tall molly, standing a head above most cats her age. She has a slim, willowy physique with subtle musculature built up from a lifetime of constant training that lends itself well to swimming and running. Long, thick brown fur falls over her form with tabby patterning across it. Her eyes are a vibrant green, and shine with a bright intelligence and confidence.

​

 

[Kingbird]

. ✧ ⚜ ✧ .​

Kingbird is all but bouncing in place as the clancats approach, eyes roaming across their huddled mass in search of — anything, really. Something exciting. All they see is a bunch of uptight prey-hoarding, territory-stealing little tyrants, growing fat while the rest of them starve and whatnot. What they said when Kindling first came up with the plan was true: someone should teach these fish-eaters a lesson. Might as well be them! Could be fun!

But it’s hardly principles that have them standing there today. Let no one mistake them for someone motivated by ideas; this is where all the big scary rogues were going, and Kingbird was going to be part of it, doing it, winning some glory for themself, no matter what it took.

They watch the kitten dart across the thin ice with some interest, smiling at her shriek. Ah, poor thing. They don’t make them as tough as they should, over in the clans! Maybe this little outing will knock some courage into her. Or some sense. Smile thinning, they follow her path with their eyes, watching for who will catch her, who will break the line. One breaks forward, slamming into one of theirs, one of the so-called rogues, and it sends Kingbird running like a signal; no more chitchat.

No more fighting teenagers either; they want a real challenge. No matter that the wounds from their previous encounter with a river cat still smart; no one’s gonna take them seriously if all they fight are cats younger and weaker than them. So they dart through the budding chaos, and throw themself at the biggest, meanest-looking cat they can see: their unsheathed claws swipe at the already-scarred side of his face, aiming to dig into the damaged eye, while they let out a laughing shriek.
​

ooc info‎

• attacking @ROOKFANG ​
• ♕ KINGBIRD they/them, red water rogue, 23 moons
  ⭃ a small, mostly white cat with splashes of golden-red fur. Petty, petulant, childish, playful, violently insecure. Very physical in their affection and hostility alike. ⭃ ref
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ mildly-challenging adversary, will start fights, will not run, will not show mercy
  ⭃ penned by Kangoo on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  ​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Snakeblink isn’t a fighter. Never has been, never will be: he has no sense for it, no instinct, no taste for the exercise.

But there’s still blood caked in hard-to-reach places of his pelt, where Lightningstone’s sluggish veins bled over him. There’s poultice and cobwebs stuck to his shoulder and tugging at each movement. There’s anger in his heart, the feeling of an unjust loss magnified tenfold by too many failures, too much hardship, too much fear: he wants to sink his teeth into someone’s throat and tear it out, and doesn’t know what to do with that desire.

When Smokestar calls them to battle he goes more willingly than he ever has before, slithering after their leader as if trying to step along the scarred tom’s shadow.

The thin ice over the river should feel treacherous, but it doesn’t. The river is their home; even when it floods, it is familiar to them in a way it isn’t for these rogues. If they are to prevail, it would be here and now: on the most uncertain terrain that they call home.

Shellkit’s cry for help is a gossamer thread of spider silk tugging him forward; the one they fight for, the one they can still save. One glance Smokestar’s way — one ear flicking towards the leader, listening to him calling her name — and Snakeblink is off, throwing himself across the ice in an attempt to grab the kit. To hell with his thirst for blood: this is the only thing that matters, and it’s the only thing he can truly do. He only need to reach her.
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• his ass is NOT going to reach Shellkit. Not open to attacks; has a pre-planned interaction!
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 49 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[Shadestone]

Shadestone would never be one to be disloyal. For him, loyalty would end with his life, when his final breath passed his blackened lips, and so he stood at attention as his leader gave the marching orders. War was upon them, brought on by the murderous effects of the rogue group they had toyed with for far too long.

He falls in lock step with his clanmates, his paw-steps more confident in the anticipation of battle than they ever were in camp. With his ears up and whiskers perched high on his maw, he was ready for whatever this last stand would lead to.

// OPEN for attacks, moderate injuries allowed, minor actions allowed to be powerplayed ; shadestone is blind --speech is in #b4bcb4​

​

 

[FOXTAIL]

Oh StarClan, the young warrior felt uneasy. He knew a battle was inevitable; but that didn't mean he had to be excited to go into battle. Some warriors crave battle, eager to leap into the battlefield with their teeth and claws. Foxtail, oh man Foxtail was not that cat. He dreads battle... it can go wrong so quickly; one wrong move and it's over. He knows numerous warriors are willing to sacrifice their lives for their clan, but death scares him. He will defend RiverClan when needed, but there is always a creeping thought in the back of his mind. ...What if he doesn't make it back? He gulps as he stands up to Smokestar's yowl, already feeling his heart racing fast. ...He might not enjoy the battlefield, but he isn't a coward!

Just focus on Shellkit. He tells himself as he joins the patrol, You can still make a difference without having to lift a claw.

He can feel his fur on edge as he stands onto the formed ice bridge, ears pinning back at the sounds of RiverClanners and rogues scuffling. Cats left and right of him are engaged in battle... neither side showing any mercy. He shakes his head, quickly racing through the battlefield; weaving his way through and evading rogues when he can. He sniffs the air, and amidst the blend of his clanmates and the rogues, he picks up Shellkit's scent. He focuses on it, drowning out any other scent that would typically enter his nostrils. Focus, He tells himself as he begins to follow the scent, Save Shellkit and bring her back to safety.

The scent grows stronger, and Shellkit comes into view. Thank StarClan, she's alive! She is still a few fox lengths away, but it'll only be a few more seconds until she's returned to safety! It'll be like her playing on the ice all over again, but this time he's rescuing her from rogues; not cracking ice. He's about to open his mouth, with the full intention to exclaim Shellkit, I'm here!... but the words never made it out of his maw. His world turns upside down, as a rogue intercepts him; ripping his gaze away from the stolen, helpless kit.​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 —— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

• his attempt to save shellkit failed sobs!! closed for interactions, will be battling @OSPREY
  
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  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

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  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: tbd
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to nopeita for the pixel & tropics for the icon <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  16 moons
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[Feathergaze]

Fishbones. Fishguts. Shit.

The silver molly's head is swimming. She's pretty sure her brain is going to drown at this point. This is it. We... we're going to kill them. We have to kill them. Smokestar had made that abundantly clear. No mercy, not after all they'd done. They tormented us, they've killed us. They've got Shellkit, they stole a child. Feathergaze imagined the young girl, shivering, heart fluttering like a caged bird, and alone. Her own heartbeat feels dangerous, as though the organ's struggle may soon splinter her ribs. She holds onto that image of Shellkit; it's the only thing keeping her limbs moving forward.

The rogues are there, right there across the shore. Shellkit. Her eyes snap straight to the child, her ears pressing forward like they might somehow reach her. She's not alone across the ice. The rogues have her. We're coming, we're coming, Shellkit. Hold on. They just needed a little more time. But she doesn't hold on. As soon as the child sees her clan mates, sees Smokestar and the patrol come to save her, she leaps forward with a ghastly cry that steals the breath from Feathergaze's lungs. That sound, that sound. It cuts her, slicing through her fur and flesh and burying itself deep in the nook of her mind, ensuring itself to never be forgotten. A rogue takes off after the child, nearly nipping her heels. All hell breaks loose.

She is moving. She presses forward alongside her clanmates, trailing behind the lithe and the light-footed but she is with them all the same. The air becomes hot, crowded, suffocating. There is no room for sound besides the screaming caterwauls of battle, no room for smells besides fear, blood, and rage. Shellkit. Shellkit, we're going to get you. Feathergaze is not the only one with eyes on the lost kit. Ahead of her barrels Snakeblink and Foxtail, one smaller and one more experienced in battle than she, both faster than her large frame. This is good. We can reach her, and we can keep her safe. In a burst of fur and screeching, suddenly Foxtail is no longer ahead of her.

No! Oh, no, no, Foxtail! In her head she bellows his name, but the words don't escape her throat. There is no time, no time, Shellkit is still so far away. He's going to be okay, help is right behind him. I-I'll come back for you, Foxtail! No matter how afraid for him she is, everything inside her screams to reach Shellkit first. If she turned back now she knows her bones would break in protest, her lungs would collapse and her blood would freeze if she were even to lose sight of the terrified child. Her muscles writhe and contort, pressing forward and only forward. She tears after Snakeblink, shoving past or over any rogue in her way.


//intending to reach Shellkit successfully and scoop her up to race back to camp after Snakeblink fails, not currently open to attacks!​

 

[forgiven vengeance ✩]

~ 𓆩✧𓆪 ~​

So... ungrateful. So.... selfish. It pulled an ugly snarl onto her face, watching in contempt as they sidled around the icy shores in preparation, in their gloating and demanding. She had done them favors. She had been kind, merciful even. Had made it as quick as they'd allow, as painless as possible... even bade them to hold each other in their arms so they would not suffer dying alone.

They relished in StarClan's light... and yet when she offered their embrace more directly, they hissed and spat and fought. A tail akin to a snake coils in agitated movements, half-blind gaze glowering amongst the pelts that formed a brigade opposite of them. Her eyes turn to that squealing rat... the tiny, pesky little bird.... if only Kindling had silenced her damn squawking- "Selfish... selfish fools all of you."

And she does not care for Smokestar's warnings... he who holds the most greed of all. To hoard lives, is that not the most disgusting thing you could think of?

But she does not focus her ire on him long as a slithering, familiar wretch lunges across the landscape towards the shrieking burden that was Kindling's spawn. He had no right to her... even if Ven didn't give a shit about the little pest herself.

"Stupid boy," she yells, and it isn't with adoration or love... but frustration, as if she were scolding her own young. Paws seek his shoulders with the full force of her weight, wrenching into her pelt twin to throw him onto the ground where they might slide like a pair of stones over the ice.

"Stop resisting... Let me save you. Little water snake..."

//attempting to slam @Snakeblink onto the ice to stun him so she can go after some apprentices >:3​

 

[BRONZESHINE]

♡​♡ why you so obsessed with me ♡♡​

---

bronzeshine & 25 moons & female & she/her & riverclan warrior​

---

These rogues had done nothing but piss her off. She wasn't that close to anyone who'd been harmed, she wasn't that close to anyone, really. Bronzeshine stood proud on the bank, watching the rogues with steely eyes. She, thankfully, had not been one of the injured cats recently, so she was at full strength. No mercy, yeah, I'll show you no mercy She thought. Shellkit's cry is what launched them forth, though she didn't go after the kit. Someone else would get her.

She pushed herself across the ice, looking for any enemy to sink her teeth into. Out of the corner of her eye, she see's a flash of fur and abruptly has the wind knocked out of her. They skidded across the ice a bit, and she hears the creak of it below them. A yowl ripped from her throat, she twists around and attempts to sink her claws deep into their shoulder, trying to find any purchase.

— boy i wanna know ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: Insert whomever to be attacking!
  
  
• 
  — sassy | flirty | proud | vain | irascible
  cis/het
  
  — physically moderate && mentally moderate
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
  — please tag account if attacking

 

[DUCKPAW]

tags! ₊˚✧ ﾟ.this was a moment she had dreamed about. warriors would always echo stories of their battles, reccounting acts of bravery, of fear, of herocism in the frenzy of a bloodied battle-field. it sounded glorious at the time. as she gathered with the writhing mass of skinny riverclan bodies with mud wedged in between in toes and a dirtied, wet underbelly, she can't help but think there's nothing glorious about this. she feels ill-prepared for battle, small and weak. shellkit had been the last straw though. the rogues that had plagued their territory had been responsible for a string of murders over a long, cold leaf-bare. the whole clan could still smell the stench of mint as ravensong would prepare corpses week after week, and endlessly, they would lie another clanmate to rest in the dirt. they could never quite seem to purge the clearing of its terrible scent, it stings their nostrils, recalling now poisoned memories of loved ones who have passed.

duckpaw trembles against the cold, but each call that smokestar makes sets her heart on fire, tail swishing with anger. they had to succeed or they would die trying, she understood that at least. they had to axe these roaches from the land, upturn their weeding roots, kill them. she heads in the direction of her mentor, knocking against the flow of soliders marching to battle, positioning herself behind mosspool. the large party of riverclanners swarm the territory, silently pulsing with anger. tense claws rip up dirt and pebbles as they moved. she is braced, her stomach tight with both anger and fear. it isn't too soon after that smokestar spots shellkit, a pearly white figure in the distance, and just at that moment, battle explodes around her. it's a whirlwind of claws and snapping jaws, spittle and blood spray across the mud almost immediately. duckpaw widens her eyes and pins her ears, trying to block out the sound of snarling and bodies hitting the leaf bare floor. remember your training. she thinks, remaining low and steady, small stature moving around the battlefield. she can see feathergaze is making a move towards shellkit, and she stalks her clanmate, eyes wide and attentive, ready to fend off any attack to ensure feathergazes rescue was successful.
​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

The tone isn’t right, the words wholly alien — but something about that voice yelling stupid boy tugs at Snakeblink like thorns in his fur, or a claw hooked underneath his ribs. It’s a poor warning, but a warning all the same, and he tries to veer off to the side right as the familiar-unfamiliar molly slams into him. The impact with the frozen ground sends pain reverberating from his wounded shoulder through the rest of his body like a wave of fire and needles, leaving him blinking black spots from his eyes as they slide away from Shellkit. Is the kit safe? Does anyone have her? He hears the ice strain and crackle under their weight, spiderwebs of cracks undoubtedly spreading from their fall, hastening its breakage, and struggles against the weight bearing down on him, scrabbling to get up.

"Stop resisting... Let me save you. Little water snake..."

It’s not a name he’s heard in a very long time — not since the colony. He has no doubt this is an accident: his loner name was incredibly apt, and everything about him inspires those words in others. It’s still an unpleasant jolt to hear it hissed through this ghost’s teeth, their furs mingling into one unbroken pattern as she presses down on him.

Only his family called him that: his mother, his siblings, Cicadastar giving him his warrior name. She doesn’t get to hold it in her cruel mouth.

He shakes himself free of the aftershock and wriggles under her weight, attempting to sink claws in her sides and tear into her flesh and towards her belly while pushing her off and away. ”Save me? Like you saved Lightningstone and Oxbowpaw?” He hisses venomously, ”You ought to follow your own advice and drown yourself in the river, you fox-hearted hypocrite.”

If successful in at least freeing himself, he would try to dart around her, aiming to bite at her back legs and get her to turn around, away from Riverclan’s side.
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• trying to harass @forgiven vengeance ✩ to distract her away from the apprentices
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 49 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[OSPREY]

"The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:

War rang heavy on tattered and tired ears. Osprey, bird of ruthless sky and bloodied talon, considered it a mere lullaby to the thrash and throe of the rest of the world. Yowls and screams and cries were a peal that foretold the fell, but she never heeded the warning. The dilute-calico molly had lived a long enough to tune out the aria of sufferers and solemn alike. There must have been a time once, long ago, when she cared, but an idle mind rarely dwelled on the past.

Fangs bared, teeth brandished, and paws skittered. She had been living with the ragtag group of rogues for a little while now - though she hesitated to phrase it as them extending a helping hand to a poor old knave such as her. Osprey joined of her own volition, and there was little reason for it other than that she simply wanted protection from a harsh leafbare. Nothing more, nothing less - the she-cat was an awfully, fatally simple one. And now, their cause had called to her, as erratic and endlessly jejune she found it. Slinking around (though a hulking frame left little solace for stealth), striking hawk's gaze shifted from fur to blood to wound.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

For love, for honor, for justice, for vengeance.... Decreed words painted the air before the preceding battles, as if inspiration would sink into unsheathed claw and render victory from the cold, dead hand of their opposers. This river was not hers, and it did not matter who it belonged to first. Strong and pitiless often won the conquest. There was little else to determine one's true strength than to seize for oneself. Then, restless paws thrummed against the ground like the beginning of a herald's drum - a suspended heartbeat, a hushed voice, a last blink.

There was no prerogative for the wild card. There was no fitting end to a woman who could never lose if she had nothing at stake in the first place. Whatever family or friends had burdened her in the past had met their untimely finale in the dirt, in the ground that importuned for her presence soon enough. Bloodlust lie on the cusp of drawn and dull fangs, and the evidence of such lie in the imbrications of scruffed and hoarfrost fur. She would have said she was born ready for this moment, but that would have implied that she bothered to think of the occasion for more than a wing-flutter.

My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Sprightly young warrior had come to the slaughter with the intent to play the hero, and bright blues caught upon Foxtail trying to reach Shellkit. Ah, that would be bad for us, wouldn't it? Unkind sneer ripped through parchment-paper face, as though the expression had found its home in the claims and caverns of cicatrices and curls. Osprey could never stand the haughtiness of the clans, thinking themselves to be the most righteous and most deserving of the land that all cats had been born upon. And for what, because of trite tradition and useless manners?

Osprey crashed into Foxtail with her full weight from the side facing his left flank, attempting to barrel the tomcat to the ground. She aimed to draw blood or break bones or anything that could inflict some harm onto the other. Fighting proved a lawless art to the rogue, because who would punish her if she plucked at the eyes or kicked at the mouth? Ungodly snarls erupted from the molly's maw, loud and brash and terribly grating (she never concerned herself with looking prim and proper).

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

( Poem excerpt from Ozymandias by Percy B. Shelley. Attacking @FOXTAIL , closed to interactions for now! )
​

 

[FOXTAIL]

His heart races fast as he's tackled onto the ice, ears pinning back to his skull. Oh no no no— this wasn't apart of the plan! He was supposed to help rescue Shellkit alongside Snakeblink and Feathergaze... he wasn't supposed to lift a claw! They'll reach her, He quickly tells himself, as the dread of battle slowly washes over him. He doesn't get a second longer to think of Shellkit, as the rogue's claws rake his left shoulder; unable to stop himself from hissing in pain. StarClan, that hurts! He can feel his shoulder throb in pain, blood beginning to ooze out of the wound Osprey just made. Don't die, don't die! His mind screams, tears welling up, Do something!

Teeth barred in a teary eyed snarl, the young warrior would attempt to kick Osprey off with his hind legs. If successful, Foxtail would quickly get up onto his paws and darts towards her; ears glued to his cranium. Foxtail unleashes his claws as his gaze locks on the dilute calico, feeling anger that she got in the way. How can someone be so heartless? How can someone with a right conscience steal an innocent kit? It makes him sick to his stomach. Foxtail attempts to swipe his claws at her face, and rip out fur and flesh, while tears roll down his cheeks. This is for Shellkit, you monster!
​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 —— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

• attacking @OSPREY , closed for interactions for now!
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: tbd
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to nopeita for the pixel & tropics for the icon <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  16 moons
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[Feathergaze]

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Or, was it? Are we winning? Her clanmates writhed around her, a mass of snakes hissing and spitting as hungry claws devoured skin and maws split with raucous howling. The ice beneath her paws groaned in protest, the thundering weight of violence straining its outstretched body. Her lungs shuddered, whining that the air they dragged in was false. Real air was not this blood-soaked, did not taste of vaporized copper or tremble with the incoming fumes of decay. It's... It's war. No one is winning. Victory today would be given to the cats left standing, and Feathergaze could already taste its hollow comfort. No. Get out of your head. There's still Shellkit. She can win. She will win. Snakeblink would reach her soon, they were pawsteps away. Feathergaze doubted she would be much use if they got cornered, but she could use her size to keep attackers off of him, even buy time if... if...

Venomous words rose above the turmoil, twisting and peeling. Snakeblink was gone, knocked aside to fight his own battle. Skidding to a halt as the distance was finally closed, suddenly it was Feathergaze who stood over Shellkit. Alone. Somewhere in the fray the child's original chaser had been intercepted by Mosspool, and for an instant there was space. The silver molly gasped, head whipping from side to side before staring down at the stolen kit. For a moment all she could do was stare. She's here. She's here, she's going to be okay.
"I- You're safe, you're safe now, Shellkit, I've got you, I've got you come on-" The battle raged on, growing louder as her instincts finally pushed her to action. She leaned down and fastened her teeth around the child's scruff, swinging her brawny body around. Get back. I've got to get back. Her gaze flashes to Duckpaw who appeared to have been trailing her. She headed toward her and the rest of her clanmates who had yet to reach the heart of the fray, throwing herself into a dash across the ice. We're going to be okay, Shellkit. We're going home. They'll protect us. Briefly the cold thought of hidden rogues ambushing the pair on their way to camp fluttered through her head, digging sharply at her heart. I'll protect you.

Run.

Run.

Run.


//snagged @SHELLKIT ! sprinting for @DUCKPAW and RiverClan camp. may edit this but i don't think feather will be open to attacks as her job now is just to sprint and she'll be running straight through RiverClan warriors who could intercept​

 

[Cricketchirp]

⋆｡°✩ Rogues. Always rogues. Horrid, foxhearted beasts just like the ones that killed her father. It seems strange that his little cousins could be born of such filth, that his papa's sister could hold such evil in her heart. The rats swarm across the thin ice, and the water beneath hungers for blood.

Cricketpaw is prepared to deliver. Perhaps he should be more focused on bringing Shellkit to safety, but the stars all scream out in rage and the apprentice can do little to tune it out. He is a wild thing, teeth bared and snarling, eyes narrowed against the glinting sun. Kit-wailing only flares the anger brighter brighter brighter, and Cricketpaw is already searching for a target. He tries to keep his wits about him, tracks his cousin's path with his eyes. There: Feathergaze grabs her, and they are hot on her heels. Eyes stay peeled for any attacks, placing himself in-between the molly and the vermin who would seek to steal the kit back.

‎‎┌── I PICK AN AGE WHEN IM GONNA DISAPPEAR ⋆｡°✩ UNTIL THEN I CAN TRY AGAIN ──┐‎

• plotted interaction with @THISTLE. but open to other attacks!
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  CRICKETPAW ✩ he / she / they, apprentice of riverclan, eight moons.
  ⭃ a wiry, curly-furred black smoke with clouded blue eyes.
  ⭃ intelligent, egotistical, and strange, with an eye always turned to the stars.
  ⭃ smokestar xx cicadastar, littermate to beepaw & cicadapaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[BEEFANG]

I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS THE MOONLIT SEA — Mismatched claws would slip out from their sheaths already prepared for the fight that would break out especially since these filthy rogues had snatched away her kin, they had already taken her father who had been blessed by Stadclan with lives and she would not watch these mange pelted bastards take away Shellkit too. The shriek of her cousin is enough to alert her of where she is but before she can act, Feathergaze sweeps in to take the small lilac bundle into her jaws and scrambles
away from the trespassers. Beepaw takes note of Cricketpaw wedging themselves between the fleeing molly and the rogues, the bicolored apprentice slipping forward catching the mottled pelt of one of the rogues and her hackles rose preparing herself to fight or even drown these foxhearts if necessary. A part of her wonders if Cricket will aid her or perhaps Cicada would turn up soon to help her... Regardless, much like Hush, Beepaw wanted to make them all bleed. A low growl erupting from her throat before she sprang toward Hush with claws outstretched and attempted to barrel into his side, snow dipped paws sending a flurry of swipes in the direction of the tom.

He's bigger and older than her but this doesn't make her stop, her ears pressed flat against her helm with her jaws snapping down near his face in an attempt to get anything in her pearly white jaws, they'd pinprick into skin, and tear away if she managed to be successful. She wouldn't spare the tom any words when her fierce attacks and tense body language should give a clear indicator of how she feels.

/ attacking @Hush , closed to other attackers

THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME ✦ BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA

• 

• 
  ✦ shorthaired black smoke molly w/low white and mismatched eyes
  ✦ oftentimes comes off as untrusting of those around her, closed off, and not the easiest to engage in conversation with, she's not easy to befriend. all her opinions are IC only.
  ✦ 8 moons old; ages the 10th every month
  ✦ sexuality unknown; currently interested in no one
  ✦ currently being mentored by smokestar
  ✦ firstborn daughter of cicadastar and smokestar
  ✦ sister of cicadapaw and cricketpaw
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[URCHIN]

✧ . “ Well, well, well — “ the dark tom sneers at the first sight of approaching forms, “ Look who finally decided to show up. “

He knew it wouldn’t be long before the River’s leeches arrived for their slimy, sniffly kit. Why Kindling chose this one to bring back, he’s not sure (Would he have done the same, if it were his own scrawny child?), but the scrap was free from the River’s rotting, even if her cries — her loud, annoying cries — willed against it. She should be happy, should be grateful, shouldn’t she? She is with her mother now — wouldn’t that be enough?

It’s not: for the kit, or the river who stole her. It’s too late for the kit already, for she has grown into one of them.

That doesn’t mean much, though, doesn’t mean a war can’t still be had, that they can’t outrun the River, make this home theirs again. Frosted eyes narrow at the outbound group, claws unsheathing as they draw near. As soon as chaos breaks between the clashing sides, Urchin springs into action, bolting forward in aim of sinking sharp claws into multicolored fur.​

✦ ABOUT

• // plotted attack with @Aspenhaze! closed to other attacks for now!
• URCHIN ✦ AMAB. He / Him. Red Water Rogue.
  ✧ . A black and white tom with cold, blue-green eyes.
  ✧ . NPC x NPC
  ✧ . Mentored by himself.
  ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
  ✧ . Penned by Abri ‣ @_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
  ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
  

​

 

[FERNGILL]

Emerald eyes glinted with the glow of hostility- as ever, unshakeable determination took root in Ferngill's eyes. Steeliness settles, sizzling with copper-sparked flame, twisting reptile-green in usually verdant depths. Unmistakeably, it was fury that flickered on Ferngill's face, in the wrinkles of his muzzle. Yes, he was not a fighter- he would never be a master combatant, but he bore claws and teeth and anger. As much of a will for justic burned within him as it would within anyone else- and he was a lead warrior now.

Chaos burst like a firework, like a flaming meteor; it struck the earth and scorched it. Snakeblink burst forward, striving to save Shellkit, but it was Feathergaze who burst through the chaos at last to scoop up the kitten. Amazement struck Ferngill's expression- he did not smile, but shouted above the din, "Feathergaze, go!" as she sprinted toward the direction of camp. RiverClan had got what they had come for, they had saved Shellkit and brought her back to her true home- but to end this once and for all, this battle was far from over. A fierce growl on his face, Ferngill threw himself into the fray, attempting to pounce upon anyone who might run in pursuit of Feathergaze.

\ open to interaction!​

✦ penned by pin ✦​