jail house rock ⚘ Prisoner Guarding

[Dandelionwish]

The original plan had been the elder's den but making them move to accomdate prisoners was needlessly uncessary and not very fair to their comfort and so they had dug a hole at the edge of camp proper for the two to stay. Not that they needed a den at all, WindClanners were accustomed to sleeping under the stars in the open so they would cope or they would not. Frankly, Dandelionwish didn't care and he was finally on proper terms with Quillstrike who also probably didn't care. He knew the dark striped warrior had never been fond of him and only grew to tolerate rather than accept but they shared this duty together begrudgingly and in this strange circumstance they were probably closer than they ever would be; bonded by their disgust and displeasure at having these cats in their camp.
When he joined so long ago, he had stumbled here on accident and too delirious to offer any defense of himself immediately. He was a former medicine cat, never turned claw on another and it was probably this that spared him despite WindClan's recent transgressions. When he spoke to Blazestar later, opened up on his imprisonment and Sootstar's madness he had been welcomed with open arms and kinship and even though he had been kept from the borders and gatherings for what felt like countless moons he eventually became a proper SkyClanner through trial and tribulation. He had a mate now, beautiful and kind and an apprentice sick in the medicine cat den he prayed to StarClan would recover. He did not want this.
Dandelionwish did not want this wretched and horrible beast of a tom and his companion to be here, it was almost enough to drive him out of the camp had he not been asked to play guard.
Having to sit there complacant next to Sootstar's attack dog, her second-in-command, the tom who did all her duty work and looked upon her actions with complacency - only spurned into forming his own gutless opinion when she turned on him.
"...what's stopping us from killing them both right now?" He WHISPERS in a murmuer to Quillstrike next to him, meant for the dark warrior's ears alone, his mismatched gaze narrowed as he faced forward. It would be easy. Claim the two tried to escape or attack, self-defense, doing their job...He never wanted to kill a cat before in his life but he realized that if Sootstar were ever placed before him he'd cut her down swifter than any could stop him; Badgermoon was no different.
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[Ooc]
Guard buddy - @QUILLSTRIKE
Prisoners - @Badgermoon & @curlewnose
​

 

[DUNY]

𓍢ִ໋ 𔓘𓉸𔓘⁺˖⸺ During times like these, Duny is rather grateful he returns to his upwalker. As much as clanlife intrigues him, it also tends to bewilder him completely. To expend all this effort during a terrible sickness and just when the cold intends to set in— well, it would be much more efficient to dispose of them both and be done with the matter. Placing warriors to guard them when many have left for a journey is a waste, although he supposes there could be some value in the information they no doubt have in their round skulls. Perhaps Blazestar means to coax it out.

In that case, Duny approves. Squeezing it out of them would be messy and unreliable, but a gentle cajoling, while time-consuming, is much more useful.

"Holes have a way of putting things in perspective, wouldn't you agree?" He muses with a sly, sideward glance at Dandelionwish and Quillstrike. ​

‧₊˚ OUT OF CHARACTER / / \ \ HERE'S TO THE FOOL, HERE'S TO THE THIEF 「 09.08.23 」

• —ooc:
• — DUNY (Dunyazad) / / 48 moons old / / uses masculine pronouns, but does not mind the use of neutral pronouns.
  — daylight warrior in training / / mouser for a private cemetery, and as such, is a fairly practiced hunter (of rodents).
  — queer like perusing fabric bolts / / single & a bit flirtatious, but incredibly unlikely to enter a romantic relationship.
  
  a slightly plump blue smoke/black chimera with a very distinct, mask-like facial marking. he is not especially tall; very little (if anything) about him is immediately intimidating, but at times his gravestone-moss eyes are a bit too incisive. it's easy to get the impression that he knows something you do not, and it's entirely to his benefit, though his demeanor is (nearly always) impeccably polite and cheerful.
  

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[Foxfire]

She couldn't wrap her head around the idea of hostages until the thought crossed her mind that they could be useful. What kind of information rests in Badgermoon and Curlewnose's skulls....Their little brains... What are their secrets.... She's happy to help pry them out, she doesn't have the same festering hatred for Windclan the rest of Skyclan does, but from the stories she's heard, they are no better than the rogues on the streets of twolegplace. She already knows how to deal with those, so she holds no fear of the moorland cats.

But she was oh, oh so curious about the two cats held prisoner in their camp. Too close for comfort, if you ask her. They should have been put somewhere else. Somewhere miserable... Like a burrow under the thunderpath. That would be SO uncomfortable.

She just can't help that her paws are wandering over to the makeshift prison. She looks inside with a cheshire grin full of ill intent, the only thing stopping her from ending their miserable existence was her self control and knowing she'd likely get in trouble.

"Nyahahaha~ I love fresh meat~" She snickers. "These are the two who came sniveling to our borders, then? They look.....Vulnerable."

If she can't kill them, she can at least make them uncomfortable. That is also fun.​

 

[curlewnose]

"i wish that i could open my eyes and the nightmare'd be over"​

As exhausted as he was, Curlew still could not repress his joy when he and Badgermoon were put in a hole. Despite the open hostility from those around them, he felt safe within the soil walls. It was strange; the soil in Skyclan was different from that in Windclan, filled with remnants of pinecones and needles and softer to the touch. The tom took a few cautious swipes at the bottom of the hole and found he was pleased with the paw-feel, even if it was quite dry. This dirt had the potential to make good tunnels, or at least a nice den.

Scraping the dirt he had disturbed into a small nest, the blue-and-white tom curled up, hit with a wave of exhaustion. Even with the herbs provided by Dawnglare, Curlew felt weak from his wounds; It would be a long time before he could properly dig again. He listened to those around the hole as he laid still, at times wanting to join their conversation but stopped by his burning throat. He had to agree with the chimera; holes did bring perspective, one that Curlewnose had always appreciated. One day he hoped to share this thought, but for now he stayed quiet, healing and waiting in an oasis of dirt.
​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

DARK BLUE, DARK BLUE, HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ALONE IN A CROWDED ROOM?​

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Quillstrike had never considered himself a friend to the Windclanners who showed up at their border. He kept away from them most of the time because he knew he'd only cause waves for the clan, but after Sootstars last little stint he hadn't exactly bothered to keep up with being civil, letting his disdain run free. The only one who seemed to not be given the cold shoulder or harsh words was young Sparrowpaw, and that was only because Quill had a particular weakness toward scared kids, something he'd been himself once.

For once though, he wondered if he might be on the same page with Dandelionwish for once. He was still skeptical- he'd always be skeptical- but there was a darkness seething through the other that matched his own as they marched their prisoners back to camp and dug out a pit to throw them in.

"...what's stopping us from killing them both right now?"

He tensed at the proximity as they leaned toward him, but their words kept him from drawing away, eyes of fire and ice flickering toward the Windclanners.

"Too many cats around right now." he murmured back, before adding. "But come nightfall? Nothing."

Most of the clan would be tucked away in their nests, leaving nobody out int he open but their captives and them. Dandelion was right- it would be all too easy to get rid of them, and it was something the chimera had been considering ever since Blazestar had ordered them to take them prisoner.

The arrival of a few clanmates had Quillstrikes shifting away from ex-medicine cat, knowing how odd it would look for the two of them to be talking privately like that.

Dunys comment caused a small, macabre smirk to settling on the toms lips for a moment. The chimera saw the hole as little more than a grave for the two- symbolic, of course, since he doubted Blazestar would bury two dead windclanners in their camp- but still, it did bring about a sense of satisfaction to see them huddled in the dirt.

Monster, chided a voice that might have been his conscience, but he paid it no mind.

"Nyahahaha~ I love fresh meat~ These are the two who came sniveling to our borders, then? They look.....Vulnerable."

Foxfire. He wasn't sure how put together she was, but he was glad that neither she nor Duny had words of sympathy for their captives. Quill didn't want to hear any of that crap right now.

"They are." the chimera confirmed coldly, happy to make sure their prisoners knew it. Vulnerable, and weak, and exactly where they belong after all the damn trouble they'd caused on behalf of that hellcat and her clan. "That's the only time Windclanners come here on friendly terms; when they're too weak for us to attack them."

Maybe it was a jab (albeit unintentional) at Dandelionwish as well, but was he wrong? No Windclanner had ever stopped by on kind terms without being on their last leg and in need of sanctuary, and they only kept coming because they knew Blazestar would take pity on them and let them in- as he'd done time and time again.

Badgermoon and Curlewnose were no different.
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skyclan - male - 19 months (Feb 17th) - bisexual - homoromantic - a very tall, dark chimera tomcat with mismatched eyes and several scars. has bluejay feathers woven like spikes along his spine and neck.

 

[Badgermoon]

Nothing mattered to Badgermoon now that he and Curlewnose had escaped. Or, perhaps, nothing else mattered to him. The former tunneler was safe - he would survive the wound to his neck, thanks to SkyClan - and there was a chance, no matter how slim, that he might get to do harm to the cat he had once, so foolishly, trusted. He may have the chance to help Sootstar's worst nightmares come true, StarClan help him. And, perhaps, he might even find a home again - a home with these strange cats, who were nothing at all like he had imagined them to be. His hopes for that were not high, but it was something to dream about, at least. A vision to cling to, even as he clung to Curlewnose to try to make sense of any of it.

After all, in only a few days his whole life had changed - not just in terms of rank or Clan, but deeply held beliefs, fears, and desires. Almost nothing felt the same, not even his own body. His scent was beginning to change, losing the sweetness of heather and the earthy scent of moorland grasses, and he had never spent so much time within a forest before. Even in the relative openness of SkyClan's camp, the presence of the pines was disconcerting. Not...bad, necessarily, but foreign. He was endeavoring to think of their looming shapes as protective, somehow: a deep green blanket between himself and his troubles, just as moss softened the hard ground for a body at rest.

Speaking of: there was no moss in their pit, of course. Badgermoon had not expected to be given anything with which to make a nest, and, indeed, may have refused such materials if offered. Though he recognized that suffering-as-virtue was probably a WindClan mindset which he needed to break free from, he also felt that he had approximately a lifetime's worth of making-up to do. Sleeping in a dirty pit with no creature comforts felt like the least he could do. He was grateful that they even had somewhere to be, that they'd not simply been chased off or killed where they stood. He was thankful, too, that they allowed he and Curlewnose to be together. He presumed it was for logistical reasons, not out of the kindness of their hearts, but he was still appreciative. The tiny blue-and-white cat was one of the only things that kept him from freewheeling into total darkness.

Another chimera - this one in various shades of gray, and thicker around the middle than most cats Badgermoon knew - drew nearer to their pit. To his surprise, the stranger actually addressed them. From where he lay curled around Curlewnose's small frame, he gave a low huff of weary amusement. His perspective certainly had changed, though the hole had little to do with it. "I would agree, yes. I'm not as used to them as some people." he glanced at his companion, blinking down at him with obvious tenderness. He rested his head gently on Curlew's, content to let their guards mutter inaudibly among themselves and to lay in recuperative silence: but another SkyClanner appeared. A she-cat with a gingery coat and a bizarre smile that reminded him of Mallowlark. Perhaps he has a sister. Thought the ex-deputy with vague curiosity.

Foxfire's words, which he felt reasonably sure were intended to be threatening, bemused him, and after a moment's thought he decided not to respond. Quillstrike seemed eager to chat with the new SkyClanner, and he was sure that they'd enjoy discussing their vanquished enemies. I'll leave them to it. decided the black-and-white tom. It's their right, I think. Besides, it wasn't as if they were wrong - he understood that, now.​

 

[ThistleBack]

It’s a sober silence, twin metal eyes pierce a black and white pelt as familiarity dawns. Thistleback had merely returned a week’s time, and the rumor of more Windclanners in camp did well to reach his tattered ears. His hatred for the moorland dwellers was deeper than any roots of the Skyclan pines, his tolerance nonexistent- he used orders and duty as a crutch. Only now he wears a humorless smirk, rage coiling in his belly with the recognition. He can vaguely hear the chatter among his clanmates now, his vision tunneled upon a coat of black and white.

" Oh how I recall, a blizzard… my children sleeping in the nursery… and a pack of hounds bleeding into the forest. Lead by none other " he speaks to no-one in particular as he nods his chin to the former Windclan deputy, but his pinched muzzle curls around his teeth and he licks at them idly as memories flash behind his eyes. " I once dreamt of a day we ripped them from the ground root and stem. " he considers pensively. " Only if you give it time, it seems they do it themselves. " he finishes with flick of a long white-tipped tail.

" you could’ve been the next infamous leader of the moor rats. What a great honor it would’ve been. " he speaks to Badgermoon now, " pity. " his glare shifts to the smaller unfamiliar Windclan exile.

He turns to Quillstrike and the others, " maybe we should just take over Windclan. Save them the traveling time and embarrassment " he jokes but there is a hint of non-joke and his ambition flares up in his chest.

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⛤ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛤

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  forty EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Former Lead warrior of Skyclan 12.22.22 - 06.2023
  — Devoted to Deersong 9.29.22
  — Father of Coyotepaw, Eveningpaw, Briarpaw, Damsel, Sunflowerpaw, and Rosepaw.
  — mentoring none formerly Snowpath & Quillstrike
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
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[TWITCHBOLT]

He remembered sinking his teeth into a Windclanner in the blur of the flurry that day, snow spinning around all of them as they gnashed and writhed to stop the moor-weasels from wriggling their way into the medicine den. Though their actions were surely borne of desperation, Twitchbolt still bore no pity for them- even now, as the leader of the pack lay injured by his own former leader, now under the guard of a close friend.

Quillstrike had always looked out for him, and... Twitchbolt did not trust this former Windclanner not to attack him any moment. Dandelionwish had earned his place by now, proven by how he seethed as he stood their guard- with the former medicine cat's help, he was sure Quillstrike would have no trouble if the prisoners decided to revolt. It was perhaps unsurprising that, even with that knowledge, Twitchbolt couldn't relax. Couldn't take his eyes off Quillstrike when he was in camp- because he'd never forgive himself if something happened...

Lingering nearby, Twitchbolt could not help but overhear the morbid topic of conversation. It seems they do it themselves, Thistleback said, and he snorted. It was true, wasn't it? A run-out medicine cat, lead warrior... a fool of a tom who'd left on a whim of love... and now a deputy, with a warrior in tow. Maybe we should take over WindClan. "We've- we've got enough of their blood here that www-we probably have equal claim to, to the land," Twitchbolt uttered, tone spiced with humour. Really, he wasn't entirely kidding.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Badgermoon]

The conversation above their heads shifted, its tide dragged towards the day of the catmint raid by a muscular, two-toned tomcat. Badgermoon recognized him, he thought, and his expression clouded as the icy memories were brought forth. His own involvement in that affair had been centered on distraction - so Sunstride could lead a smaller party to this very camp - and he briefly tried consoling himself by remembering that, ostensibly, he'd arrived in peace. Blazestar could have given it to us. On some level, he still felt some anger at the ginger tom for his refusal. His Clanmates had been dying, wasting away in the old sett, while the cure was within reach. And yet...could he really begrudge Blazestar for refusing, after what Sootstar had done? Badgermoon had not seen it, then - her madness, her treachery - but now it shone forth in painful clarity. A trail of insanity, of devastation, moons in the making.

"Perhaps you should. SkyClan would treat the cats of that land, and all others, far better than that, that tyrant." The ex-deputy offered these words up to Thistleback and Twitchbolt in a tone of forced calm. Anger blazed behind the fog of exhaustion in his yellow eyes, and Badgermoon could not resist kneading the dirt of their pit as his thoughts edged towards she who he had been trying to forget. She who had tricked him, lied to him, made him support an endeavor with no moral or spiritual backbone...she who had taken his family from him, and tried to kill Curlewnose. His white-tipped ears flattened as Thistleback made reference to the fact that he had been Sootstar's second-in-command. Badgerstar, leader of WindClan. It had never felt especially tangible - he had never seen Sootstar loosening her grip on the moor, not unless StarClan themselves ripped it from her grasp - but now, the thought was bleakly comic. Almost surreal in its absurdity. "It would have been no honor at all." he said in a low voice, meeting the former lead warrior's gray gaze. "Not to lead her Clan."

He wondered if WindClan would ever truly be a Clan of its own, if it could ever rise above the stain of its founder. She should have called it SootClan. he thought in disgust, shifting and curling his tail tightly around his body. How long would it take for her influence to die out? Her brutality, her madness, her disrespect of their ancestors...would it travel through the generations? What cats will my children become, growing up there? What did I do to them by bringing them into that world? he could not bring himself to regret their birth - for even here in this pit, so far from them and surely branded as a traitor in their minds, they brought him nothing but fierce joy - but he wondered if a better man might've. "StarClan grant that I may see her demise before my own." he muttered, half to himself.​

 

[Dandelionwish]

If Quilltstrike's comment bothered him he made no indication of it, because frankly he was different from Badgermoon and he knew it. Any comparison at all was just superficial. He had never bent to Sootstar's will, the entire herb raid had been because he went against her wishes to plead for aid that never came, he had protested ever horrid decision she made, called her on her beliefs and decision making and constantly butt heads with her. He was even promoted to Honeytwist's apprentice specifically because of this, because he fought alongside her to defend cats and help them rather than leave them all to die. Badgermoon was, at best, a cowardly guard dog who bit when told but never offered anything more than his complacency.

"...you spent all these moons so subservant to her and willing to indulge her atrocities cause it didn't affect you. You watched her chase off and harm cat after cat without raising a paw until it was one YOU cared about. So shove your holier than thou attitude down your throat and CHOKE on it." The chocolate and cream tom snarled, teeth bared and fur rising into a bristle along his spine that would put even Thistleback's ridge of a mane to shame.
"Give me a reason, give me a single reason." His threat was there, he'd not hesitate for a split second to cut the tom into pieces if he so much as stepped a toe out of line. He remembers being shredded to ribbons by cats he had once held a poultice too to heal, to cats he had taken cared of in their feverish states, to those he had watched bleed and suffer and come to him asking for relief all the while this black and white tom stood there and watched. There was nothing he would ever be able to do and say to convince Dandelionwish otherwise and the sooner he was gotten rid of the better.

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[Badgermoon]

I don't remember him being so talkative. Badgermoon thought with a slight ripple of surprise. Apparently, not living under a dictator emboldens the tongue. He thought back to Orangeblossom's open disapproval of Blazestar's choice to take himself and Curlewnose into SkyClan's camp, how he had been startled that such dissent was even possible. I suspect I have a great deal to learn. Or unlearn? Not sure which. he paused, thinking, before dismissing it. Whichever it is...I hope I get the opportunity. To be better. To fix some mistakes. If they're fixable, anyway. Anyways: back to the bristling cat looming above him, as prickly as the pines to which they had both fled. The point's stream of angry words poured into one ear and lingered in his mind. Badgermoon turned them over, examining them thoughtfully for several long minutes. By and large, he felt Dandelionwish was right - though incorrect on a few points - and he wondered if the former medicine cat understood that he wasn't proud of his time in WindClan.

I think...he needs to say these things. he decided after some time. It's probably hard for him, seeing us. Remembering...everything. Badgermoon felt a flicker of guilt for not having realized the discomfort he and Curlewonse were probably bringing the cream-coated tom until now. He had never been the sharpest talon on the hawk, after all, and recent events had only further clouded his mind. I'm not even sure I know what he means. he confessed in the privacy of his own mind: holier-than-thou? I'm holier than Sootstar, I suppose. At least I respect StarClan. "I acted when I saw something that she couldn't lie to me about." the broad-shouldered cat replied, peering up at Dandelionwish with furrowed brows. "Many things can be excused under the guise of protecting the Clan...especially if a silver-tongued tyrant is in control of your whole life."

Badgermoon ignored the healer's threat: not because he did not believe in the reality of the anger behind it, but because he had faith that this bristling cat would obey the rules laid down by his leader. "You know what it was like...though you figured it out much quicker than I did." for that, he had nothing but admiration for the tom he had once considered soft of body and mind. It had been Badgermoon all along who had been in the wrong - to the surprise of no one but himself, it would seem. "I wish I had been more like you, Dandelionwish." he mused as he laid his head on Curlewnose's flank. "I could have done so much less harm to those who didn't deserve it." And so much more to those who did. And still do.​