pafp I'VE BEEN SO GRACIOUS ✘ WAR

[URCHIN]

✧ . Urchin’s opponent is forged by the river, a strength in clans never peaceful, he realizes quickly.

The patch-pointed cat is swift, a smirk on their face that rivals the smugness of his own and a threat placed before him. You asked for it, they say, and claws soon find their way into his back — a stinging pain he hasn’t felt in moons, but one familiar to him all the same. Crimson blooms from the strike, but Urchin pushes the thought of its warmth away.

He’s been in plenty of fights himself, evident in torn appearance, the breaks in sharp-tufted fur. He’s used to a battle’s repercussions and fully expects this new set of wounds to dull out into scars and a story to tell a passerby later on in his life. It’s nothing new, this, really. Urchin may not have been trained up by the leeches that surround him, but he is strong too.

So he twists at the impact, aiming to knock the RiverClanner over with snow-capped paws and needled-claws. If his opponent doesn’t crumble upon the strike, he’ll swipe at them in an attempt to sink his claws in further to their form. As soon as they’re down, he looms over them, his own smirk growing. “ You poor river leech, “ he chides, feigned sadness in the form of a pursed lip, “ All this work, for nothing — “

A paw lifts with the intention of delivering a killing blow to the cat, something just as prompt as his opponent’s movings, yet something that’ll make a mark on the RiverClan territory. A reminder of the rogues that should walk this land is what he seeks, but a reminder does not come.

A force collides into his side, and he no longer stands above his opponent, instead skidding further down the frosted battlefield as his claws scramble to sink into the form of a new opponent. One black and white.

Black and white, but not the same opponent from his last skirmish over the territory. Black and white, but familiar still, as cold eyes narrow to get a better look at the cat who’d lost him a kill.

He’s small, but bigger than the last memory he has of him. Scar-marred and snow-marked just as he is, fur cropped like another dark pelt he once knew. Urchin doesn’t think he’d ever forget the face before him. Doesn’t think he’d ever forget the RiverClanner.

" My boy — " he addresses his opponent with a cooing sneer at the snow-marked realization, " Just what have they done to you? " Yellow eyes blow wide before him — whether in confusion or shock, or recognition of his own, Urchin doesn’t know. Though hardly does he care as stuttered words spill from his opponents maw, as Urchin remembers his sniveling son for what he once was, and what he seems to still be: weak.

He should be happy, should be grateful, shouldn’t he? He is with his father now — shouldn’t that be enough?

It’s not: for the kit, or the river who stole him. It’s too late for his boy — has been for seasons, it seems — for he was raised, no, brainwashed to be one of them.

His boy’s shock is enough to serve as a distraction, and Urchin twists to loom over another. The older tom will make it out of here alive with a kill to mark to occasion. It’s just unfortunate that his son — his poor, small, ever-crying son — had to ruin that for him, had to make him change his plans, and imagine a black and white form unmoving instead.

His paw lifts once more to cast a killing blow, only to be interrupted again by cracking ice around him, a battlefield seeking to outcast the skirmish atop it. Urchin’s own eyes widen — he isn’t much of a swimmer himself, isn’t sure how he’ll make it out of this one alive.

But, if he’s to meet his fate today, his son must as well.​

✦ ABOUT

• 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
  

​

 

[GILLSIGHT]

Leaf-bare can never be good for RiverClan, Gillsight’s learned in recent days. Leaf-bare can never be more than hunger and war, can never be more than injuries and death. It seems all their river is capable of, in moons where it’s frosted over like this.

His neck is clad in cobwebs still from the last battle he’d taken part in, an ambushed patrol by the rogues that call themselves their opponents now. Gillsight should be resting — Snakeblink should be too — but, how can he, when they’ve stolen from RiverClan?

How can he, when they’ve taken lives? When he bore witness to his story’s retelling, placed on another apprentice — a loss of family, a warrior’s ceremony held over a grieving mind? When what pieces of family he had left are gone too?

So he finds himself at the river’s edge, anger replacing hesitation as paws dart over cold ice in the midst of war. His first opponent is young and meek, and probably shouldn’t be here, with their fleeing nature at the first chance they get. Gillsight can hardly call it a win, can he, if the war still rages around him?

Sunlit eyes dart around the battlefield for an opening to attack, and it’s not quite an opening he catches sight of, but a final attack aimed at a clanmate. RiverClan can’t lose another.

Snow-capped paws bolt toward the scene, toward Aspenhaze and the dark tom standing above them. A leap forward sends unsheathed claws into black fur, sends him and the rogue further down the ice. They break out into their own battle then, an entanglement of similar forms. Gillsight doesn’t get a good look at his opponent’s face at first, though he doesn’t care to make acquaintances in the throes of battle.

But the tom speaks, and his words cause Gillsight’s strikes to still.

“ My boy — “ the rogue sneers. The warrior’s heart plummets at the label placed upon him, at the question that follows after. Widened eyes shift to look at his opponent’s face.

His mother’s eyes were blue, he remembers. And his father’s… His father’s were cold, a green-tinged frost. Narrowed and unruly. The set before him now.

“ Wh-Wh…? “ he stutters out, face scrunching in confusion. His father carries little memory in his mind, less so than his distant mother. If he thinks back far enough, his earliest days blur, and shadowed forms double — almost like they do now. “ Wh-What…? Y-You — “ His father… His father is here. His father is one of them.

And Gillsight… What does that make him?

He stalled for too long, Gillsight realizes. The news before him caused him to falter, caused his opponent — the rogue, no… his father — to shift. The older snakes around, and suddenly Gillsight is in Aspenhaze’s place, the river’s frost against his back, a sharp-edged paw lifted above him.

And then the cracking noise of ice finds his ears. And then Smokestar’s voice rings above him. Retreat — Gillsight needs to retreat. But the rogue doesn’t budge above him, unruly gaze bearing down on him, a lack of love he starts to think he remembers. He has no choice but to meet his fears again, and he prays to the stars — to Clearsight and Clayfur, to cats better father-figures than his own — to get him out of this.

The ice cracks around him and he braces himself for the river’s chill — for inky black to envelope him again, as dark limbs loosen their grip around him and his own seek to push himself upward.​

✦ ABOUT

• // saved @Aspenhaze from @URCHIN ! has a pre-plotted aid in getting out of the water!
• 

  GILL ‣ GILLPAW ‣ GILLSIGHT
  ── Warrior of RiverClan
  
  ── ??? x Urchin
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A scarred, black and white tom with yellow eyes.
  ── Mentored by Clearsight
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

​

 

[Aspenhaze]

Aspenhaze comes to realize that they are severely underestimating these rogues. It’s something they’ll have to reevaluate once they return. The last thing that was going to happen was them faulteting here, no way. As the taunting continues, they hold in any further comments and focus solely on the fight, and luckily it helps them avoid a more dangerous strike.

They’re thrown for a loop however as claws sink into them once more, deeper this time. They don’t even try to hide the pain, an angry huff slipping out. What is it with them and getting deep wounds lately? At least they’ll recover quickly from this, as they do. But if they don’t act quickly, they’re as good as dead. And soon as that thought crosses their mind, another clan member comes to their rescue.

It’s Gillsight, it seems. They’ll have to thank him later, when they’re not in danger. Though the tides change once more, as an admittance comes from the rogue instead of more blows. He’s Gillsight’s father? What a development. While the attention isn’t on them, Aspenhaze licks the wound clean, and keep one eye open. Thank StarClan they do, as now the black tom is the one in danger.

As the ice around them cracks, Aspenhaze is spurred into action, no matter how much pain they’re in. Thankfully used to being roughed up, it doesn’t stop them from rescuing Gillsight before he plummets to his death in the chilling waters by grabbing his fur with their mouth and and dragging him back up. “Try to stick close to me,” they say, scuttling back to less dangerous terrain as quickly as possible.

// OOC: Saved @GILLSIGHT , out!​

 

[BRONZESHINE]

♡​♡ why you so obsessed with me ♡♡​

---

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

---

The sound of battle was not a welcome one to Bronzeshine. She could hold her own, but she was no master of combat. She just hoped silently that she wouldn't scar too badly. And that this would be the end of these StarClan forsaken rogues. Her nameless attacker flees at the sound of the ice groaning and creaking under them. Coward she thought, though she herself follows Smokestar's order, nearly falling in the icy water as it broke underneath her. She scrambled up the bank near Otterpaw and Smokestar. She scanned the battlefield of ice for anyone who looked in need of assistance.

— boy i wanna know ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  
  
• 
  — 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

 

[FOXTAIL]

Foxtail's blood runs cold as he hears that eerily familiar sound; the ice pops loud in his ears. He blinks away the tears in his eyes as the ice surrounding him cracks beneath the weight of the battling cats, his fur bristling when he feels the cold water at his paws. Eyes widen and he seems to forget about his battle opponent, leaping away from the dilute calico. tt's so cold! Foxtail thinks, trying to keep himself under control from panicking. Yes, Foxtail knows how to swim— but he can only think of how cold the water will be if he submerges, and how the ice cold temperature will stab into his fur like pin needles. If the ice breaks beneath him, he'd be relieving one of his worst accidents as an apprentice. What if he freezes upon falling in like last time?

Smokestar doesn't have to tell the young warrior twice to get off of the breaking ice. He darts away from his opponent and races to the shore, hoping and praying to StarClan that the ice won't break directly beneath him.​

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

• out!
  
• 
  
  

  ---

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

  ​
  

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

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

  ---

  ​

 

[valesight ➶]

⸙͎｡˚⋆ ⍋ ѧѦ ѧ⍋ ⸙͎｡˚⋆

It isn't as easy as he'd assured himself it would be... to bare his claws, brandish them at another breathing soul with only death as the outcome. He'd rather they just leave... rather they realize they were outnumbered and flee with their breath in their lungs still. He has found himself an opponent in a rogue not much bigger than he is, wielding his teeth in a threatening display that has no real threat beyond its looks. He doesn't want to bite them. Doesn't want to gouge his claws across their fur and tear at tender skin. They are both too young for this, he thinks with a sense of dread. How he envies the little swatch of lilac fur that had been carried across the ice towards home.

A paw smacks at his cheek, giving him enough of a start to hiss and snap his fangs at outstretched toes. He finds purchase, only to reel away in fright of his own actions. He doesn't have to keep up the charade of good, noble fighter for long as Smokestar's voice splits through the air in a call for retreat. Valepaw didn't think too hard about the frost under-paw until this moment, had been so blindly certain he had been led into a safe battlefield (how did that even work... there was no such thing, really...)

It splits under his feet where horror transfixes his gaze- the water slowly seeping between the cracks to dampen his toes... to weigh down his ankles before he has even registered the severity of the trouble he has gotten himself into.

I can't swim, a whiny kitten-voice in his head says.

He turns in staggeringly horrendous delay to make a beeline for the shore but every stride reveals the extent of the fractured surface, chunks of ice parting and breaking as if they were never a solid surface at all. He flounders on a few bigger pieces for a moment, lunges in desperation for another floe that might keep him on the surface- it tips with his weight, flipping him carelessly into the frigid water with a strangled yelp.

It is so cold... so so cold...

How did Fogshore swim in this? Is that why Ferngill didn't want to?

Even as it wriggles between every feathery strand of silky fur, wraps him in a glacial grip, he thinks of his clan-mates and their astounding will to survive in this harsh winter. Resisting the teaching offered to him time and again only now felt like venomous karma on his tongue- if he'd just been a little braver before the frost had overtaken the waters... he might've learned to keep himself a float. And with no small amount of effort, he hacks at the river like it is his real enemy, one he is truly willing to kill to secure his own survival-

If only his plush coat weren't so heavy. If only his muscles weren't already seizing in their shock. The shore... is so.... close... His nose ducks under the water despite his efforts and he can't scramble his way back up any longer. Bubbles drift in panicked exhale towards the surface and he yearns to ascend as quickly as they do. But he sinks like a stone instead.

// girl help... i am under the water... (anyone is free to grab him)​

​

 

[SASHA]

War calls for her again and the only reason she is here is for Prickles. Stupid prickles whose decided that the first taste of blood wasn't enough. Prickles who she remembers being so nervous and skittish. He's grown since then and she can't help but wonder if what she's taught him in battle was good. Then again, her mind is in turmoil knowing that they have taken a kit and while she can justify it was not her who stole them... It doesn't make it any better. She will not help in protecting the kit against the riverclanners trying to take them back. It's better for that little one to be there than with us. We don't have much to offer. This time, she isn't given a chance to breathe as much as she did the last time Deacon rushed and ambushed the riverclanners.

Here she is fending off any attackers or evading them. Amber eyes continue to search for Prickles. The red tom stands out, among them all. He's always been that way. A flame that provides warmth in the darkest of times, but now his warmth has become scathing for their enemies. A twinge of pride she feels when he manages to pin someone down. Looks like I've taught you well enough not to die. As for herself? She has no intentions of dying. However, she's not a moronic to think she would come out of this unscathed. Despite it, she still longs. Longs to see the familiar pelt of Kaede who has become a stranger. A Kaede who didn't defend her. Who didn't speak up for her and instead pushed her away and told her to leave.

Regrets are a fickle thing. At the call of her real name, she flicks her head to the source. The small bit of happiness on her face would be replaced with melancholy. You're not here are you? After a sigh, amber eyes narrow while she stares down Willowroot. They were not close. Once they had been clanmates, but she was unhappy. The rules of clan life were too rigid. To think, she would only be called a name she truly desired and cared about when it was in the heat of battle. Cedarblaze... Was a unhappy cat, chained by Riverclan. The only reason why she stood chained was because of her friends. Her family. Kaede... Goldie... Frond. Dew. "Willowroot." The answer comes with indifference towards her. Hatred. She's known it most of her life. For Willowroot to look at her as if she were such vermin doesn't hurt. I've been through worse.

If the older warrior thinks such an inquiry rattles her is wrong. Though, she says nothing of it. There is nothing to say in the first place. Even as they circle around her she shows no signs of fear. And then, there it is. As soon as Willowroot makes a move, she prepares herself. Pride is one of her biggest faults. To fight head on is no better way to go out. With honor. Pain shoots up her spine as her legs are swept from her. A grunt escapes her maw, eyes never leaving Willowroot. Her body is being sent back against the floor. Fire spreads from her stomach, and she knows why. A choked gasp leaves from her parted maw, while she hurriedly thrashes. Paws with unsheathed claws smack with all the force she can muster against Willowroot's head.

"I'm not going down so easily," she hisses. I can't leave Deacon or Prickles alone. They're all I have left now. With those thoughts echoing in her head, she's invigorated. So much so that she chuffs. Has she gone mad? Only time would tell. For now, she continues to put more strength in all her movements. If Willowroot falters for even a moment, she would thrash to create an opening. Once she's had the older she-cat unbalanced, she would headbutt her.

〤 take a good look

• pre-plotted interaction with @willowroot, please don't interrupt save for @Bumblepaw !
  
• 
  — sasha / rogue / feminine pronouns / 26 moons
  — pansexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots

​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) sasha gazes at them with cold eyes, eyes that their own fire cannot melt, and rage bubbles close to the surface. she sweeps the rogue's legs from under her and feels hot blood soak her claws as the she-cat's stomach tears. sasha reaches up to smack her face, latching onto the delicate ear. a scrap of skin is torn from the ear, falling limply to the side, and willowroot howls in pain. "you're out of your mind!" she growls as pain burns from her ear, striking out towards the other's neck with bloodstained teeth. should she latch, she will attempt to pull with all her might, tearing fur and skin from the delicate area.

as the rogue lurches up with sudden vigor, sasha's throat is ripped from her teeth, and willowroot is thrown off. she lands roughly on her back with a heavy thud, the breath knocked from her lungs as sasha headbutts her. it's a sudden sharp pain, followed by a high pitched ringing that shrieks through her head like a siren. the she-cat closes her eyes without thinking, face screwed up in agony as her ear is torn from her head and the other femme's skull collides with the area. willowroot attempts to stumble to her paws, but blood pours from her ear into her eyes and she can barely see. she witnesses the white patched tabby prowling towards her, braces herself for another round of injury. she will lash out with wild claws, uncoordinated and clumsy, an instinct to protect herself, but it falls short of working.

the warrior tries to gather her strength, but her muscles fail her as they never have before. the pain from her ear still rings throughout her head, downing her. a rough sob shakes from her chest, tearless, but agonizing, rolling into a growl as she glares balefully up at her enemy. vaguely in the background she hears smokestar shout, hears ice crackle and break, hears screams from rogue and clan alike. the ice shifts beneath her, melted by the pouring of crimson that soaks its' once clear surface.

THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // fighting @SASHA , will be rescued by @Bumblepaw <33 " speak "
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• 
  WILLOWROOT ☼ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING ROBINPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smokey long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, with friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape. her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[BUMBLENOSE]

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Smokestar's snarls rallied the young apprentice from her task in an instant. Her back fur bristled as she approached the gathered cats, bright gaze nervously scanning the scene. It's time. As the call to battle echoed through the clearing, Bumblepaw's body tensed with anticipation. This would be her real test of loyalty and courage, a chance to prove her worth. This would also be her first taste of what it really meant to protect Riverclan. Bumblepaw's mouth dried at the idea of slicing through pelts and blood welling at wounds. Stomach twisting into bounds of knots as she steadied her paws. Am I ready for this? Amidst the filtering clanmates, Bumblepaw sought out her family among the masses, instinctively drawing closer to their side for support. With determined strides, she followed the lead of the tuxedo tom, steeling herself for the fight ahead. Clashing claws had never been her forte, but she felt a newfound confidence in her abilities, honed through moons of practice and Rookfang's careful guidance.

Gone was the teary-eyed kitten who wept in the aftermath of the first rogue invasion. In her place stood a fierce and determined apprentice, fueled by anger and a fierce desire to protect those she loved. Baby fluff had begun to fall away as forming muscles pulled beneath mounds of inky wavelets. As Bumblepaw trailed quietly behind her sibling, her eyes glowed with determination. The solid ice beneath her paws halted her steps, and her attention snapped to Smokestar's shocked cry. Her heart clenched with fear as she witnessed the formerly missing she-kit pursued by heartless brutes. No! Don't hurt her! She thought desperately as the scene unfolded before her. Instantly the chaos of battle erupted around her, and Bumblepaw found herself momentarily stunned by the intensity. Left and right, fur flew and screeches pierced the air, echoing against the crackling of unsteady terrain. Despite her efforts to suppress any emotions, fear crept into every fiber of her being, overwhelming her senses.

---

With a shaky exhale, Bumblepaw squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to focus. You've got this. It's what you've trained for. Just think. Think! She urged herself mentally. Once the molly reopened her eyes, a renewed sense of cool coursed through her veins. We have to end this. Steeling herself for the fight ahead the youth fell in tandem with her advancing clanmates. Bunching up her legs, she sprung into action, leaping over tangled bodies locked in combat. Amidst the fray, her gaze fixated on the familiar pelt of her mother, locked in battle with a traitorous rogue. Sasha. Anger surged within her as she dodged and weaved through the throng, heart pounding in her chest. In only a moment the tides of the fight shifted, and Bumblepaw's focus sharpened. With horror, she watches as Sasha tears a chunk of her mother's ear, and Willowroot falls from their brutal headbutt. Mama! Bumblepaw can't help the scream that erupts from her maw as she finally makes a break through the crowd.

Ignoring the warning from Smokestar, she is now solely fueled by the need to neutralize the threat against her mom. Inky coat bristling twice its usual size as her pearly whites glisten from its depths. In a blur of fangs and claws the apprentice races forward. "DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" The paw' howls, voice trembling with rage and terror. Bumblepaw flings herself at the rogue with as much power her smaller body can put behind it. Attempting to latch on to the she-cats side and bite down on the underside of her chin. Wild snarls and hisses thrown from her vocal chords, she intended to protect her mother at all cost, hateful tears springing in her gaze.

○ OOC ○
Do not intervene! Pre-planned interaction <3
Attacking @SASHA and defending @willowroot
​

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[SASHA]

FUCK! Electricity shoots from her stomach, as Willowroot's howls. She makes no comment, other than heaving from the pain inflicted. Unable to free herself from such a disadvantageous state, she is forced to endure Willowroot's retaliation. Sasha howls from the tearing of fur and flesh. "I'LL GET YOU FOR THAT!" And she makes good on her promise, rage empowering her to finally get the upper paw. Her neck burns, yet she is more concerned about settling the score with Willowroot. It appears as if headbutting the experienced warrior was more than enough to make things even. Amber eyes watch as the riverclan warrior's face scrunched into agony, blood pouring into green eyes.

Effortlessly she is able to evade uncoordinated and clumsy claws that lash out at her. Gnawing pain sears from neck, the cool air against flesh serving to aid in her discomfort. White puffs of breath leave her maw as she watches the molly in a pitiful heap. Sobs wracking from her frame, the symphony of agony doesn't pierces her own ears. Do you think I'm a monster? That I'll kill you. Paws slowly treaded forward, aware that one wrong move meant certain death. Willowroot lay bloodied and the more she stares at her, a former clanmate, there is no satisfaction. In the past... During colony times whenever she fought, there was no death. Not ever. Even to colony members who were rough around the edges. She only killed when it came to feeding her family or protecting them from threats. She knows nothing of what has been told to Riverclan or her former family by Smokestar or Lichentail. They think I'm some sort of monster anyway. Anyone who refuses to submit is seen that way.

Amber eyes don't flinch when she's given a baleful expression. "This doesn't make me happy y'know." The sound of ice cracking echoes. "I won't kill you, Willowroot." You fought well. No... You fight wonderfully, it was an honor to fight against you. Such thoughts remain unspoken as a smile creeps from her lips, followed by a short chuff. "Maybe I am out of my mind, but... Please tell Kaede that he should take care of himself." This was wrong. She was supposed to be on the ground, blood seeping from her, eyes glazed. That is her fate after all. The one that Smokestar and Lichentail had wanted for her, yet here she breathes. Bloodies, but alive.

The moment is interrupted when Bumblepaw howls at her. Without a second thought her claws sheathe, glancing at the bloodied Willowroot as if she could see what the traitor had done. It's not something the older she-cat would thank her for anyway. I refuse to kill a paw. Not in front of her own mother or to kill a mother in front of her daughter. Her morality is going to be her greatest downfall and she knows it. Unlike Deacon, she can't rid herself of them nor does she want to. All her life had been to protect and now she's been subjected to a life of killing and agony. Do the stars pity me? With an exhausted sigh, she turns her attention to Bumblepaw. Melancholy and acceptance radiate from her. Does it even matter if they do?

As soon as a small body collides into her own, she hisses. It throbs. She is glad that Deacon is not here to see her, if he had been. He would've tried to kill you. There is little to no effort given to defend herself. Bumblepaw is able to latch onto her, however while she doesn't want to lay a claw on Bumblepaw, she very much doesn't want to die here. I don't really wanna hurt her too bad. Willowroot's presence is not forgotten. Sasha attempts to get the paw off her by quickly pushing against her paws to take down the black pelted apprentice and roll off. It wouldn't be too painful aside from the apprentice having to withstand her weight for a few moments. If successful, Sasha would create some distance between her and the paw. "The fight is already over. I won't kill you or your mother."

Bumblepaw may not be convinced and who could blame her? Her mother was close laying helplessly. Sasha doesn't care for one. Looking at the apprentice with certainty. "What your mother needs is help. Go to her. Help her return home." Orders are being given as if she had any right to that anymore. There was nothing from stopping Bumblepaw from trying to kill her, but she hopes by urging the apprentice in aiding her mother who was covered in blood, they'll do as she says. The sound of cracking ice and of scrambling paws reminder her of more pressing matters. "We don't have much time, the ice will give way any second now. I don't think you want me to drag your mother to safety, and I'm sure you don't want to take a nice dip in the cold water either." Just hurry up and get out of here!

〤 take a good look

• speaking to @willowroot and interacting with @Bumblepaw
  
• 
  — sasha / rogue / feminine pronouns / 26 moons
  — pansexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots

​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) there was a time where willowroot would've felt sympathy for sasha. stars, she would've been sympathetic for any of the red water rogues, all cats who simply want their old homes back. but now, as she lays on her side, ear ringing, the left side of her face stained with dark crimson, she feels nothing but rage. she's been them, been the cat who protested riverclan's takeover of the territory. she and buckgait... stars, buckgait would've struggled with this twofold, they would've never stooped so low as to kill. sasha's lost all sympathy in willowroot's eyes.

if she could kill her, she would.

and yet the brown tabby stares down at her and tells her she won't end it. green eyes flash with confusion as she tries to gather herself, slipping on creaking ice. tell kaede that he should take care of himself. an almost imperceptible nod. willowroot will, she'll find dawnstorm and tell him, and she'll doubt herself the whole way. the she-cat opens her maw to hiss a response, tell the other to fuck off, to leave her to the ice and the water, but they are interrupted by a black streak of fur, and an angry yowl that willow would recognize anywhere. her daughter flies at the enemy, and sasha bats her away with soft paws. shock glows in willowroot's stare as she attempts to heave herself to her paws, attempts to put herself between bumblepaw and the rogue, but she stumbles, weakened.

"the fight is already over. i won't kill you or your mother," sasha says, and it's almost like she's helping them. "bumblepaw..." willowroot grunts, reaching for her child as ice crackles, as, fox lengths away, smokestar vanishes beneath. "we must go, d-darling," her breath comes in a wheeze as she strains from the effort of standing. her limbs shaking, her tail bristling, she stares sasha in the eyes. "go," she growls. "you are not forgiven. never forget what death you have brought upon us."

THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // " speak "
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• 
  WILLOWROOT ☼ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING ROBINPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smokey long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, with friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape. her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.
  
  
  
  

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[Asphodelrain]

*+:｡.｡ //frothing at the mouth for Asp redemption!!

Asphodelpaw wasn't a good kid.
He wanted to be - Starclan, he needed to be - but he was a boy with only wisps of fading memory to guide him. Parents long gone, more imaginary than real anymore, foggy dreams that the youth just wouldn't let go. How effortlessly they turned to nightmares when fear of the real world finally tightened its grip.
Even now, gasping into the cold air, maw bloodied from the bites he'd shorn off of the invading rogues and left breathless from the attacks he received in kind, fear pumped through him like poison. But Smokestar's call made his ears perk with relief, looking to @Wavepaw with the ghost of a smile as the bells of closure to this horrible event rang with their leader's order. It was over, finally over. And he knew they'd won. Despite a couple of fights still staining the churned snow pink, most, if not all, had his clanmates outnumbering the heathens two to one - those that survived, that is. Sweeping his gaze over the battle field though left his gut churning. "We need to go" but just as he prepared to leave with Wavepaw, his eyes betray him as they flash towards the river. A glance he's been avoiding, as he can only imagine seeing death again beneath the rolling, uncaged flow of that riptide. There would be bodies there, he knew. Maybe not his clanmates, but bodies all the same. Bodies that would pull you under with the same desperate, malicious force that fueled them to break through the surface, scrambling for purchase. Loners couldn't be trusted, not even their dying breaths.

And yet, Asphodelpaw felt himself push away from Wavepaw's supportive shoulder to lunge for the watery depths that had stolen so much of his bravery. This wouldn't conclude in the miracle of him suddenly overcoming his fears of the water - especially not now, not when the screams and gurgles of presently dying rogues joined in unison with those of the past - but adrenaline was one hell of a drug. And for all his faults, for all his wayward goals, one thing will always hold true - Asphodelpaw was a Riverclanner, and his clanmates would always be his biggest priority.

Mind swept away by a white sheet of fear, Asphodelpaw shoved his head into the water. It was truly a miracle that Valepaw wasn't far from shore, for if Asp had to fully submerge himself into the waters he didn't think he'd have been able to save his younger clanmate. But as it stood, his hind paws remained mostly on dry land as he aimed to hook his claws into soft fur he couldn't see. Another stab of burning fear - Starclan don't let it be a rogue I'm grabbing
Water and blood coated his mouth - Valepaw's? His own? The rogues? The memories? He wasn't sure, it all tasted just as freshly metallic as the next. But horror struck a moment after when, despite being able to pull Valepaw out of the water enough for the boy to hopefully catch a breath he - Asphodelpaw couldn't pull him out!

Fresh off the battlefield after losing a round to a rogue, only living to tell the tale thanks to Wavepaw, Asphodelpaw was exhausted. That helpful adrenaline burst had gotten him to Valepaw's side in an instant, but the relief of pulling the boy to the surface must've drained him of his resources because he just - he couldn't pull him out! His hind legs shook, threatening to slip him forward, deeper into the water where he was certain he would find himself in the same perilous state as Valepaw, his only use serving to at least be a stepping stone for the boy if it didn't end up being an anchor!
Curses filled and spilled from his mouth like blood as he struggled to adjust his grip, trying his best to grab at Valepaw's scruff only to feel more of his own purchase waning. No! No no no!

"Valepaw" Asphodelpaw chokes, but he's unsure of what he plans to say next. I'm sorry? Swim harder? Forgive me?! No! Seconds feel like years and he's painfully aware of both his grip on the ice and that upon Valepaw's shoulders slipping. Wavepaw will surely get to them - he has to!

Someone has to!

*+:｡.｡ Updated 3/1/24

• Interacting with @valepaw ➶ , mentioning private interaction w/ @Wavepaw
  
  @ROOKFANG is plotted to save them <3
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☆ Asphodelpaw
  ☆ DMAB— He/Him — Unsure
  ☆ 9 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☆ Mentored by Crashingtide
  ☆ Riverclan — Apprentice
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☆ Physically medium | mentally medium
  ☆ Attack in bold #9fc3fc
  injuries: None currently

​

 

[Snakeblink]

Hopelessly tangled together, Snakeblink cannot escape the paws crashing into his chest. What is that cracking sound? His ribs or the ice beneath? The pain stabs clean through his body and into the river beneath, the lifeblood of their clan echoing his cringe and giving voice to his silent gasp. The wind knocked out of him, he struggles to inhale a lungful of icy air. His mouth gaps open, teeth bared, and panic has his claws still scrabbling at his opponent, his head jerking closer to buck her off, rip her off if that’s what it takes.

Their eyes meet in the struggle, faces a whisker’s breadth away. The same green mirrored. There’s something there — the thin traits, the dark mask — so reminiscent of Salamander Snakeblink cannot escape the thought that it’s her: the ghost of his mother given flesh to walk the earth once more. But the simulacrum doesn’t inspire sympathy or nostalgia, only rage: how dare she stain the memory, leaving a blood-soaked maw superimposed over the image of safety burned into his mind?

There must be something of the past in his face too, because when he surges up her attention is a moment late to return to the fight, and his jaws close around her throat before she can jerk back.

Her spirit may believe what her mouth spouts off, but her body is of a different mind: it struggles, tries to tear itself free. Snakeblink tightens his grasp, feels blood well up over his tongue. Paws shove against him and he can feel his ribs strain and creak under the weight, like fire blooming under his skin, but the pain only has him biting reflexively with renewed vigor until he can feel something give under.

At least now she cannot speak. Whatever last message her eyes hold, he refuses to listen.

Snakeblink holds on until her thrashing slows and the coppery taste of her blood has filled his mouth. His jaws slacken and he heaves her off, throwing her body over the crackling ice and pulling himself back to his paws. Blood stains the lower half of his face, down the erstwhile white fur of his neck and chest.

She thanks him in her last breath and the cloying taste turns burningly bitter on his tongue.

For an instant he just stands there over her body, watching as life leaves it, each panting breath sending a stab of pain through his chest. He has to move— the ice is going to give soon, others are still fighting, where is Petalnose?

A larger body slams into him before he can take more than a step away from his kill.

Snakeblink finds himself crushed into the ice again, claws tearing into his sides again, and thrashes away from the teeth seeking his throat as he tries to get his paws between him and this new opponent. Hysterical laughter rises in his throat but cannot escape it, lacking air: how alike him to get his first unassisted kill only to immediately die at the claws of another rogue! At least he will go down fighting, weakly as—

"GET! OFF OF HIM!"

Smokestar. The star-speckled figure of his leader rips the large rogue off him, throwing her away and darting after her like a hunter after runaway pride. Snakeblink lies for a second, heaving panicked breaths, but the first loud crack under Smokestar’s steps has him scrambling up just as the tom calls: RiverClan! Off the water! A moment’s hesitation: Smokestar has gone under, dragging the rogue with him, he cannot let him drown—

But the ice cleaves under him, plunging Forgiven Vengeance's body into the water, and the lancing pain in Snakeblink’s chest has him scrambling back and away towards the shore, wild eyes darting from clanmate to clanmate; seeking who else needs help out from the chaos.
​

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

ooc. information.

• skedaddling and on the lookout for anyone needing a rescue and not scripted to have one already!
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 50 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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