private KITS ╱ I LAY BACK DOWN IN THE SNOW ´ˎ˗

[SUNNVAR]

He tells Wolfsong where he is going this time. If things should go poorly, his words serve as a final goodbye and warning both. Should all go to plan, he will be back here before the dawn breaks. He will join the cats confused by the kittens' disappearance; perhaps they will even be as afraid as ShadowClan once had been. He cannot quite decide if that is justice or cruelty to wish upon his clanmates. Not all of them are as terrible as the ones who had orchestrated this– not all of them were silent by choice. It does not matter; the other clans will see only cruel rogues in all of them once Sootstar is through. The trek gives him plenty of time to think on such things.

The kits are not with him for the first part of it. They take the twisting route beneath his paws, shrouded in darkness and flanked by the two tunnelers to whom they may owe their futures to, in time. After their last excursion beneath the earth...the warrior could not blame them for their reluctance. But it is safer down there than with him. His wandering may be excused as a simple walk towards their territory, stretching his legs after a nightmare. With them in tow, however, Sunstride is certain things would take a terrible turn for the worse. If they were to be found with him alone, when Sootstar has already shown her reluctance to trust him as of late, he would not be able to talk himself out of it. For the sake of Scorchstreak and Rattleheart, and all those who cared for him, he should then put his faith in talking himself into trouble.

That, it would seem, he is terribly good at.

Once they surfaced, he was there to meet them with quiet thanks to the two warriors, and sent them on their way with what he hopes is assurance in his nod. It will be all right; I will not bring you into this pain. "You were brave to go through this again," he tells the kittens with tired eyes. "Your father will be glad to hear of it, once you return." It had taken him some effort to coax Halfkit into returning, but this time Sunstride does not leave room for argument. With a sweep of his tail, he urges them onwards. Closer to the border that reminds him of death and rot, but to them must be such a comforting promise of home. Just as it had been last time, the thunderpath is silent. Monsters seem to sleep at night, unlike the marshy warriors whose territory they threatened endlessly.

"Do you see the shapes just across from us?" Crouched low, he murmurs a final encouragement. "They're waiting for you. We will cross together, but do not wait. This path is as treacherous as RiverClan's waters."

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. @Halfkit @TANGLEKIT @CHILLEDSTAR. @smogmaw
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

​

 

[Halfsun]

It had taken a lot to convince her to brave the tunnels again. Ever since that first night, she had had nightmares of the earth swallowing her whole, of going down into that deep dark never to emerge again. But Pinkpaw did it, and she was much braver than Pinkpaw, like, by a lot! (At least, she’s pretty sure she is) So she swallows her fears and she once again dives into the depths of the tunnels.

There is no pretense of a game this time. Sunstride had explained to them the truth, or as much of the truth as an adult is willing to tell a kit and she finds that it is lacking every time. There is still some vital piece of information missing, something that she doesn’t understand. If they missed her so much why didn’t they just come and get her? But still, she entertains this journey if nothing more than because she cannot stand the idea of Thornkit possibly missing her, or Garlicpaw for that matter. That, and she misses them too. Smogmaw missed her Sunstride had said and Halfkit found that funny. How can you miss a cat you’ve never even met? She kinda gets it. She misses Halfshade all the time, though she does not miss the actual cat and more the idea of her. A mother. The idea of a father, she does not miss quite so much.

The two cats that lead her and Tanglekit through the darkness of the tunnels are not strangers to her. One is the cat who had once made it clear that he did not want Halfkit and Tanglekit in his clan, the other was her best friends mentor. "I betcha guys are dying to get rid of us huh?" she says with a weak laugh, a poor attempt at a joke but really was it? Was all of this just a pretense, a way to trick two gullible kits into following them into the earths depths never to be seen again? She has no idea, but she trusts Sunstride and he had said it would be okay so therefor it must be. "Boy you guys are gunna be real disappointed when you find out my family probably didn’t miss me at all! Ashenpaw says I’m annoying, can you believe that! He’s always been so mean to me. And Swanpaw was always asleep so he probably doesn’t even notice I’m gone. Applepaw is probably glad I’m gone too, because then she can be number one and she doesn’t have to worry about me stealing her thunder." she tries not to think of Garlicpaw and Thornkit right now but she does and she has nothing to say about them, nothing except that those two had probably missed her and Tanglekit. "For all you guys know Smogmaw isn’t even my real dad" she continues on, voice taking on a desperate pitch. She wants them to turn around, to bring her back to WindClan. She does not want to see Smogmaw, does not want to see the expression on his faces when finally he lays eyes on her. That distant faraway sad look cats sometimes wore when they talked about her mother, sometimes even when they looked at her.

When they emerge from the tunnels, Sunstride is there. She almost runs to him, but there is something serious in this moment that keeps her from it. The path before them is dangerous he says, but just on the other side of it is her family. She gulps hard, but she does not say anything, only nods as she waits for further instructions. She would have plenty to say to them in a moment, but for now she is silent. Sunstride, she knows, would not fall for any pleas to bring her back.

​

 

[smogstar]

Silence is a vacuum which demands to be filled. It presses on oneself, coercing action just to escape the deafening void, if even for just a moment, as there's no experience more harrowing than being alone with one's thoughts.

Smogmaw feels as though he's held in frigid waters beneath a frozen layer—three nights have crept past, their slowness excruciating, the residue of unanswered questions clogging his lungs until he can bear to hold his breath no longer. Amongst ShadowClan's many paws is one that had aided in his kits' abduction, and to dwell in the company of an unknown traitor - who sought to do his family harm - is torturous. Suspecting every tongue's beat, every stare, and every shadow, the deputy's nerves are frayed thin.

Answers must be weeded out. Claws must rake tissue and treacherous blood spilled, lest the rot fester into another epidemic. Tonight, truth's roots shall be unearthed; and, of equal importance, a father will unite with his children, torn from their homes before parental warmth could grace their pelts. Justice and closure will prevail as one. The notion is a humble refuge against the backdrop of it all.

Limbs succumb to a tremor. The cold drapes over the glaring silence and settles between Smogmaw's shoulderblades, icy fangs sinking in. No layer of fur can ward off the bite of vulnerability that comes from this silent vigil. He stands sentinel, shoulder-to-shoulder amidst four others, overlooking the paved path splitting the land in two. Within him stirs an urge to say something. Anything. Injecting the stillness with meaningless words is preferable to stewing in the strenuous quiet.

Time stretches on, and the moorlands remain painfully static.

A furtive glance finds his snow-streaked leader, whose unshakeable poise throughout all this has earned his admiration. It's a stark contast to how he'd perceived them in their initial lunar cycles as leader: an emotionally fragile soul whose inability festered in their consistency. Yet Smogmaw is ever grateful for them these preceding nights.

He looks to his former apprentice, afterwards. Trust was not given lightly in ShadowClan, and yet a warrior as fresh as Sharpshadow had garnered both her leader's and his deputy's. Stifling a nervous sigh, the tom;s gaze alights upon Scalejaw, and his jittery conscious is gently eased by such a seasoned warrior's presence, if only fractionally. Reassurance permeates from Frostbite's aura without a shared gaze nor word. What awaits them tonight may spell disaster for the clan's stability should the circumstances permit it—but here they stand strong, as clanmates ought to, as clanmates must.

Squinting against the darkness, his eyes rediscover the moors. Wind sighs across their breadth in a forlorn lament, but they are not empty as they were before. Sunstride's unmistakeable outline is set juxtaposed to two smaller ones, and though their pelt colours and expressions cannot be gleaned from this distance, Smogmaw discerns their identities nonetheless. "It's them." Gratitude grapples with overwhelming relief as the silence is shattered at long last. "It's my kits."

Releasing a trembling exhale, his claws eagerly fill the gaps between the scattered stones. It's time to meet Halfkit and Tanglekit proper, to welcome them into his fold, and to reunite them with their rightful home.

// @SHARPSHADOW @Frostbite @scalejaw ​

 

[Frostbite]

He follows Smogmaw with a knot of anxiety in his chest. He's excited,, he's worried, he's expecting the worst, but praying for the best. What condition would Halfkit and Tanglekit be in? Did Windclan hurt them?? Just the thought threatens to boil his blood until it evaporates. And that there is a TRAITOR in their midst.... That is what angers him most of all at this moment. his frigid, piercing gaze has scanned the camp and its inhabitants a dozen times over...

But he remembers Fleecefur.

He remembers how he had not suspected she would be so bold as to attack Pitchstar after he recieved his lives. And he remembers he was quick to chase her off their territory with the others as well.

But this time? No.

Whoever this was would not receive that mercy, and if they do manage to escape his wrath, he will make sure they are so wounded and beaten that they don't get far. He will not tolerate this so long as he breathes. His new position only gives him more power to act on his impulse. There is a snake amongst them, and snakes get killed.

When they reach the border, he stands beside Smogmaw and looks across the thunderpath to see Sunstried and the two kits he has fretted over for so long. His gaze softens and he thinks he might cry with relief.

"There they are... They're alright...." He says quietly, his expression softening into one of relief and warmth, a smile crossing his face. He briefly forgets completely about the snake in their midst, focusing only on the fact that the two were okay. They didn't seem to be hurt, which is good. If they were, he'd be concocting numerous assassination plans. Though honestly? He still might.

It's a very entertaining idea, one that he thinks is best pushed aside. So he does. Halfkit and Tanglekit are more important right now, and he won't be at peace until they are close enough for him to embrace.​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

Sharpshadow had not expected to find himself here. He had not expected him to be one of the few offered whispered secrets; tale of guilt and betrayal, fierceness just barely held behind clenched teeth. Sharpshadow felt it too with bristling fur, indignation, realizing it had been the most obvious thing— only a piece of prey in the pile of WindClan's horrible actions. Sharppaw had flustered, only because she had dared to offer the benefit of the doubt to a clan that almost certainly did not deserve it, all due to what? The pathetic weasel in heather - scent she had walked amongst in the mountains? Who would steal kits, but a mangey, flea - bitten rogue? she had thought. Clearly, he's forgotten that Sootstar was no better than one

He knows that his being here likely says nothing of character, nor skill. The kits had been gone before he had even returned. It couldn't possibly him, that was all. He is thankful for the chance, regardless. For the chance to see WindClan as the dogs they were, so that he would never forget it again. For the chance to make WindClan hurt. For the chance to give something good to ShadowClan for once, even if it was only taking back what was already theirs.

Of course— it's not as dramatic as that. The meeting is a quiet one, shared between low - spoken patrols on their respective sides of the Thunderpath. It was no bloody battle, though really, Sharpshadow thinks WindClan deserved to experience an ambush for themselves, for once.

The others may not know it, but he will say only what they want him to; and do just the same. She is here as a ShadowClanner— as Sharpshadow.

She knows they're Smogmaw's before she even knows who they are. Her pelt bristles for them, rather than at them. And for Smogmaw too, despite it all. It's them, and he sounds relieved. It's my kits. Sharpshadow lacks the glint of a skeptic in his eye; no look of hatred, sadness, or suspicion. He is straight - faced when he sees them. In even tones, " It's so obvious, " Strange to imagine, that WindClan had trounced about harboring " orphans, " that so clearly had the coats of their parents and felt no regret.

Well, maybe one of them did. When his gaze drags to Sunstride, that is when it would keenly narrow. His tail is dead behind him, parting the grass. He stops, and he waits.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

• 
  
  

• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 17 moons old as of 11.12.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

running on autopilot seems to be the common theme for the leader the last few days. as soon as news of their whereabouts came, something in them shut off. maybe, just maybe, they were too worried about the way that the kits got to windclan in the first place. they'd been there the entire time, the cats of windclan even lied to their faces, all for the sake of some cat who didn't actually care about them. all because they feared what she could do. did chilledstar have that same power within windclan, or would they have been laughed at for trying? it would be all too easy to simply kill at cat, just for the sake of showing off how they weren't to be messed with. they thought about it, sometimes, but they never thought about it when it came to shadowclanners.

their numbed body follows the more eager members of the small patrol, vision blurred and tongue feeling like sand in their mouth. they only stop when the others do, echoed words making them twitch their ears as they stare blankly ahead. they must think us idiots. they agree and nod at their inner voice. windclan always did think themself better than anyone. delusionally touched by the stars. sootstar will surely be made a fool of.

at least the kits were returning to where they belonged.

​

 

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Scalejaw is in stable mind when she approaches the border. Her body is alongside Chilledstar's- she knew something was wrong in their head, the distant look in their eyes familiar enough. Once again, she was breaking her own rules- pelt brushing theirs as they grew close to the Thunderpath. A sense of comfort in the chilled night, her strangely tufted fur keeping her own core warm.

Vision lifted and swung before Sunstride arrived. Placing upon Sharpshadow and Frostbite, both cats she could agree were trustworthy- well. Sharpshadow was questionable sometimes, but at Smogmaw's own paws, of course the apprentice could be trusted. Frostbite's distress at losing the kits could not have been faked. Glowing, coal-like eyes focused on Smogmaw's own vision as they locked eye-contact. The tremor was eased briefly, and she broke her gaze when his did.

And upon the banks of the Thunderpath, opposite of them, her ears slowly twitched, then stood tall. "Be ready to run out and grab them from the path if they hesitate." Scalejaw's voice lifted quietly, trying to keep the ink of night as cover and not shout it to the wind that whipped past the Path. Yes, they were alright, but they wouldn't be if a Monster found their appetite tonight.

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​

 

[Halfsun]

And so they cross. They wait just at the edge and Halfkit can feel her heart beat painfully against her ribs, can hear the roar of blood in her ears as she looks one direction then another. Then she runs, feet pounding the pavement and eyes squeezed closed, not daring to look. When finally she opens them she is on ShadowClans side, the once familiar scent foreign in her nostrils now. She now stands awkwardly on the other side, flanks heaving and eyes wide like some sort of crazed animal as they settle on two strangers. One looks just like Tanglekit, and he is stumbling forward with a look of such painful relief on his face. She cannot mirror the emotion. Instead her gaze flickers to Frostbite, a cat she is familiar and comfortable with, she wants to run to him but the stranger who looks like her sister is moving to embrace them. She stumbles backwards, confusion evident in the way her eyebrows knit together.

"Are you... are you my father? Are you Smogmaw?" she does her best to not allow her voice to shake, does her best to puff out her chest and look as grown as she possibly can despite the fact that she is still so terribly small, so terribly young. "Where were you?" she demands "And if you wanted us back so badly why didn't you come for us?" she was bristling in anger now, the hair on the back of her neck raising and her tiny kitten teeth bared while she speaks. She moves to stand in front of Tanglekit, barring her from him as well. "Sootstar said you knew where we were so WHY? Why didn't you come?" she asks again, bitter tears of anger making her vision blurry. Why wasn't he there when Halfshade died, when they were born? Why was he here now, when it was already far too late? It is not so simple, but her young mind cannot wrap itself around the intricacies of clan politics, refuses to believe that an adult who had taken care of her, who had saved her life had lied. Sootstar had said Granitepelt had told ShadowClan where she was, and she took it as they didn't care that she and Tanglekit were gone. Why did they care all of a sudden? Why did he care all of a sudden? She wants to go home…

​

 

[smogstar]

It's time. A moon tainted by anguish creeps towards its conclusion. Sunstride embarks across the thunderpath following a narrow pause, smaller outlines ushered closely in tow. Lips feel the press of yellowed teeth, as anxious anticipation churns uneasily in his bowels.

Drawing nearer, stubby paws stumbling along the paved stone, details gradually reveal themselves on the two kits' figures—it takes a mere moment to realise why Halfkit was named as such, and the she-kit behind her bore a startling likeness to the deputy himself. Paternal love spills forth from a throbbing heart, and its warmth bleeds into Smogmaw's veins. It fuels weary limbs forward when his kits touch ShadowClan soil at long last.

He's given immediate pause, though. Halfkit seeks to distance herself, and the burning desire to scoop both into his chest is doused.

The tom finds purchase amongst the jagged pebbles that line the path, reluctantly, but he shall grant his daughter the space she desires. Begrudging her for it is something he will not do; a great deal of confusion has polluted her life thus far, clearly illustrated within widened eyes. "I am," he mutters in a delicate timbre. His mouth lingers ajar, poised to speak, but silence clings tightly to a dry throat. He cannot remark on how precious she looks, or make clear the depths of his longing to see her; instead, the young kit dives into a torrent of pointed questions, and demands for answers.

An unceremonious, long-drawn sniffle is a testament to his hurt. "We looked for you, Halfkit." Claw-tips knead cold earth under her bristling. "I promise, for the entire moon we looked for you both. We went to every clan - every clan - to try and find you." His ears cant down to his skull whilst paws lead hesitantly towards her position. Close enough for her scent to flood his sinuses, and he lets go a shaky sigh when he doesn't sense an ounce of familiarity. "Please know this. You were taken. Kidnapped. And WindClan lied to us, they said that they didn't have you."

Though his thoughts played host to endless what-ifs, this caught Smogmaw vastly unprepared. WindClan's wretchedness went beyond mere abduction—they siphoned their innocence and put lies in its stead. His tail slings low, kissing the ground with a forlorn shiver. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The swamp was supposed to be safe." Solemn eyes now include Tanglekit in their focus. This should have been a joyous reunion, yet shame swells in the thickened air. "I need you to tell me- tell us everything that happened. How you were led out of camp. How you ended up in WindClan." ​

 

[Frostbite]

Once the kits make their way across, he feels his worries wash away. The look he wears is soft, and he has to hold himself back from going to embrace them. They aren't his kits, they are Smogmaw's to embrace. He was going to remain silent as the deputy reunited with his wayward children, but he quickly finds himself unable to when Halfkit becomes upset, asking her father why he didnt come for them.

That Sootstar told them Shadowclan knew where they were....

His blood boils like lava in a volcano about to erupt. His expression does not change to show this, but it does fade into a more serious one. He is not mad at Halfkit and Tanglekit, and he doesn't want them to think he is.

"Sootstar is a lying snake. She is a vicious, cruel monster who has attacked your father on our own territory, and even led another attack on us to try and finish the job." He says. "She may speak with honeyed words, but it is only to trick those around her. It is a common trait amongst Windclanners." He says calmly. "They may not all be as wicked and cruel..." He glances to Sunstride briefly, acknowledging that the Windclan deputy is putting his life on the line by being here. He cant imagine what he must be feeling now. "But there are too many of them that are. "

He nods with Smogmaw in agreement, remembering the many times he had searched on his own. "Sootstar lied to you... We looked everywhere, Halfkit. We scoured the territory and went to the other clans to ask if they had seen you. Even Windclan, who so easily lied to us with smiles on their faces." He reiterates.

"Your father is a good tom. He loves his family deeply, and there's no way that he wouldn't love you too. Ask him yourself... He's even faced a bear for his family." He says, flicking his tail to Smogmaw with a smile.

"You were very sorely missed, kits..." He says. "And I'm very glad to see you home, safe and sound."​

 

[Halfsun]

The hurt in her fathers eyes is nearly unbearable. He is a stranger and yet isn’t he what she had been wanting? A dad? Someone of her own flesh and blood who was supposed to love and protect her? She had been waiting anxiously for his arrival and yet here he was and she was squandering the opportunity because she cannot suppress the anger she feels. But oh god she just wanted to be wanted and she had finally had started to feel that way in WindClan. It was so unfair… All of it. He does not answer for leaving them on the journey but it’s not his fault, she had not specified. Instead, he goes on to explain the real story. Kidnapped he says. WindClan lied to her and Tanglekit and they lied to ShadowClan about their whereabouts. "But Sootstar said Granitepelt told you where we were!" she protests, because wasn’t Granitepelt a lead warrior and therefor trustworthy? Wasn’t Sootstar a hero… she doesn’t want to believe it but then Frostbites words hit her like a brick to the head. He was an adult she trusted, to hear him of all cats say such things, it made them so painfully and awfully real.

She shakes her head ‘no’, and tears and snot are streaming from her nose, a flood she is unable to hold back despite her sniffles and the near constant stubborn wiping of her eyes with the back of her paws. "Sootstar saved our lives why would she lie?" and here her voice falters and she stumbles forward, desperate now for an embrace as her mind whirls around everything Smogmaw and Frostbite had said. An adult she trusted implicitly had lied to her, had lied to her family and kept her and Tanglekit from them, had made them worry and cry and feel bad and she had been complicit in it because she was too stupid to know any better "Im sorry!" she cries out, suddenly feeling terrible and small and so so naive. "Im sorry! Granitepelt and Siltcloud said we were going on a mission and I tried to wake Thornkit but she was asleep and then we were in a tunnel and Sootstar and another cat was there and then they took us to WindClan and I didn’t know, I thought you all knew, I’m sorry" her words are fast, panicked as she thinks about the sheer number of cats she has disappointed. Surely Ashenpaw would never forgive her, Thornkit would think she left her behind without a word, Applepaw would be mad and Garlicpaw and Starlingheart… she thinks of their sad loving eyes and it somehow makes it worse. Forceful sobs wrack her tiny body as she presses her snot nosed face into her fathers fur, no doubt soaking his chest with her tears. "Im… I’m sorry.. so… sorry." she wails between cries.

// hi just a quick OOC note! There is a plan in place for Granites confrontation / exile so we on the shadow Hp team ask that now that this knowledge is public, please do not have your characters do anything or make any confrontation threads until the go ahead is given from us! Thank you so much!! ♡ ♡ ♡
​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

No kit should be made to cross the thunderpath, he doesn't think. Sharpshadow feels a distinct non - weight behind him. He stares straight ahead, Scalejaw's words ringing dully in his ears. He wouldn't admit to the frog caught in his throat as mismatched paws slam against pavement. She keeps her eyes open wide, for her sake. If she would not watch the monsters, Sharpshadow would, for her sake. Soot would be caked on her paws. The smell of smog would fog her eyes. Blue - and - orange. Rich brown. Tabby coats ripple along all three of them.

This was Halfkit. It must be. They wear each other's faces so well, even she can tell. She's so small as she asks, " Are you Smogmaw? "

Sharpshadow is a set piece. An unwelcome bystander— surely, she must be— to what was an emotional moment between family. Between father and daughters. He is silent, as they speak, maw pinched in an expression that cares too much. Lies, deceit, betrayal; the kits shouldn't have to know those things already. His paws are cold.

Sootstar is a liar, someone who'd sought to rip the one thing ShadowClan had from them— and that was themselves, the cats they grew up with, nevermind if she liked any of them, or not. Sharpshadow burns with indignation; obsidian spikes and raven's quills. She looks upon the kit — unnerving clone that she is— with wide eyes. Smogmaw is pliant before her. The kit screams with tears in her eyes. Sharpshadow is horribly, horribly out of place. All he can do is hate, hate beside his former mentor. He'd like to see Sootstar bleed— but... that's no controversial opinion.

And Smogmaw is so soft, softer than she's ever seen him. Apologies tumble endless from his maw. For a moment, Sharpshadow could not believe she has ever feared him. Frostbite is speaking, too. Endless vitriol; repeating what has already been said. Her head feels like it's throbbing.

It's disgusting, the way Halfkit cries. Sharpshadow should have no part in this, yet she does. She finds herself wanting to fix it— but why should she? What did she owe her? Her own spit is thick in her throat. Legs locked in place, as the kit speaks through tears and snot. It's only then, that Sharpshadow speaks.

" Granitepelt? " Disbelief is palpable. Granitepelt was by no means her favorite tom. By no means, someone she would share a meal with, by no means, someone she would chat kindly about... But he is someone she would trust to lead her into battle. She is someone she had thought would stick with ShadowClan till the end, if only because he had to. " Siltcloud? " The both of them. Siblings. The warrior's eyes are wide as moons. Her pelt gives her the appearance of a much scarier cat than she actually was.

" Stop— Stop.... apologizing, " she says it with less grace than a sniveling kit needed, but she could not stand hearing her apologize for something that was not her fault. His paws feel rooted in place. Losing— lost— he is at a loss. Jaws parted slightly in a gape, he would look to his former mentor in shock; in despair.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

• 
  
  

• 

• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 17 moons old as of 11.12.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

As out of place as his fur may be, Sunstride is a silent shadow amidst the marsh clan's territory as soon as they cross. He does not impede upon the moment before him– Halfkit and Tanglekit's return. Reunion. As much as he may miss the names gifted to them by such a terrible cat, these are the ones he will honor. It is still bizarre to find himself at this border's edge with these cats and hear their hatred of his home. Once he would have bristled at the way they spoke of Sootstar. Blinded by time and closeness and the promises that he had made. She seemed a good cat, once. A proud leader worthy of respect, forging a clan at her most vulnerable. Yet in doing so, she had only shifted her vulnerability. WindClan was a shield for her. They shaped themselves around her comfort and whim. The strongest among them, still bent in some way by her gravity.

"It is true, that Sootstar gave a life to save these kits. An adder made its nest within the heather, and she took its blow for them." He does not tell them this to sway them in any way. It is nothing but a statement of fact. As if he means only to purge himself of this terrible knowledge. Yes, Sootstar had risked their lives to begin with; she had taken them, stolen them, and forced a new story upon their heads; so too were their lives here, in this very place, due to her. They have escaped her. They would never escape her in full. In that, Sunstride remains bound to them.

The warrior does not comfort the way that the ShadowClanners do. It is no longer his place, though his paws twitch and curl into soft earth in the patch he has claimed. Far from the gravel-tough edge, far from the bleeding-heart-mud that will spill around them. He murmurs only a raw, "There is nothing you need apologize for, Halfkit." An awkward name. "This was not your fault." It is a terrible feeling, though. To realize that she had never known she was missed; Granitepelt, as she names, had said they knew. Wrinkles crease the edge of squinted seaglass eyes. A deep and terrible grimace. He would speak more of consequences and renewal with Chilledstar and Smogmaw– he does not give in to the itching desire. There is something more important than revenge in seeing their tremulous bond finally forged.

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

​

 

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Her heart was in her throat the instance that the paws touched the Thunderpath. Scalejaw knew it was a death sentence to get stuck, stumble, or fall, so she couldn't help but flex her claws against the soft peat beneath her paws, vision staring out at the kits. An audible exhale left her- a sigh of brief relief, one that was inhaled swiftly back as Halfkit's words exploded outwards. A brief glance was lent to Sunstride, but then her eyes dropped away to-

Glowing coal eyes settled on the back of Smogmaw's head. Her and Sharpshadow had a very similar reaction- but this at least made sense to Scalejaw. In any instance, she could imagine her paws in Smogmaw's place, where her kits would have been stolen away, where she would be the one returning to her mate dead and children gone. Her lips curled, however, vision dropping back towards Halfkit where the conversation continued.

And the unearthly snarl that left Scalejaw might have just shocked Halfkit out of her ceaseless crying, or even Smogmaw out of his stupor, or perhaps bring Chilledstar's brain back down to the ground. "Granitepelt." Her tail lashed, and her head raised. Biting anger threatened to shine through her cold exterior, and her head turned towards Sunstride. She had every confidence that Frostbite and Smogmaw would care for the kits, so her words were directed to the deputy of the opposing.

"I'll give my thanks, but I would have never needed to if this was prevented." Her words likely came as no surprise- the anger was tangible and palpable all at the same time. What she meant by prevention was probably all of the above- Shadowclan's eyes upon their own kits, and Windclan being... well, better then Windclan actually was. Scalejaw was in disbelief that none of the Windclanners thought for a minute Shadowclan would give up what was theirs- except, perhaps, Sunstride did.

Anger tampered briefly by that thought, her vision cast towards the other side of the Thunderpath. "We should get the kits out of here, before any of us are spotted." Her words were directed to her leader, to her deputy. Did Scalejaw have any kind of bearing over them? No. She was pretty smart, in her own opinion. Her gaze broke away from the shores of Windclan, turning instead to stare directly at Chilledstar in a very, very pointed manner.

I told you so.

[penned by dallas].

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

at first, halfkit is upset for a reason that doesn't quite make sense to the leader. they listen to the echos of her voice, trying to latch on to all that she is saying but it's all delayed. almost static. they pick up bits a pieces, like how she said smogmaw didn't dare to come back for her or tanglekit. then she goes further, sahing that smogmaw had to have known where they were and he just didnt come to get them. they blink, confused. they don't understand where she's getting this information. ogmaw is quick to correct her in the most fatherly way possible, frostbite snapping back with the venom of an adder with his hatred for the falling moor queen clear upon his tongue. halfkit is confused, insisting that sootstar saved their life– a claim that even sunstride says is true– and then it all comes crumbling.

granitepelt and siltcloud. siblings in arms. criminals. thieves. liars. they're pulled from the depths of their mind just a bit, trying to fully process it all. they'd given granitepelt a chance. he truly had been a hard worker... but perhaps he just wasn't working for them. his loyalty was not to their clan as he claimed, but to the crooked leader of windclan, who was spiraling and falling fast. not even windclan could stop it, and enough blindly followed her order. sunstride said that it was not their fault, that they were only doing what they were told but... how much of this can they accept? allow? windclan was never to be trusted, and now they knowingly have been exposed for sapping loyalty from cats that belonged to the marshes.

sunstride and sharpshadow say that halfkit doesn't need to apologize and they're right. it wasn't her fault she trusted granitpelt and siltcloud. it wasn't her fault that she was unknowingly led away from her home where it was supposed to be safe. they shouldn't have been able to be out of the camp. it shouldn't have gone on for this long. gotten this far. granitepelt was the pinnacle of all this and he had a hell of a lot to answer for. he's made a fool of chilledstar and they're tired. they're done. no one would get the chance again.

they are fully brought back to the present by scalejaw's snarl, and they twitch their ears as their lip pulls back. they can't help the way that they watch her, growling at her look. they know exactly what she's saying. their tongue draws over their ivories and they close their eyes.

"get the kits home. i have something to take care of."

they do not express their gratitude towards sunstride for being true to his word. if he lives long enough to become sunstar then, and only then, would they say thank you. but only the stars know if the sun truly would shine within windclan. chilledstar's gaze looked over at the kits one last time before they took off into the shadows with one thing upon their mind. where the fuck is granitepelt?
​

 

[smogstar]

Misgivings are put to rest by the blabbering kit smearing her snot into his newly-preened pelt. Frostbite's attestations proved too heavy, and dismantled the false narratives Halfkit had adopted, paw-fed to her daily. Illusions crumble away whilst guilt snakes its way into the she-kit's wailings. But she's safe, in his bosom, bathing it in salty-stung tears. He relents to smooth her forehead fur with a reassuring lick, and a nuzzle afterwards. "It's okay," he meows softly, strength found anew. "You're okay. There's no blame on your shoulders, little one. Not a single lick of it."

Within her sputtered explanations, it becomes starkly apparent on whose shoulders culpability truly resides. Halfkit divulges it all, not pausing to recover her breath, and Smogmaw soon finds that his own has vanished in kind. His hold on his daughter wavers. "What?" Slack-jawed bewilderment clutches the deputy tightly.

Stillness then overtakes him, pupils expanding as his innards are scooped into nausea's embrace. It was the tom who played the fool, pointing his kit-stealing paws at imaginary rogues. It was the tom who'd granted their trust refuge under his flea-ridden pelt, and had earned a place on his leader's council. His name needn't be uttered, not even in internal monologue, for it has already been put to voice by those closest to him. Repeating it would only serve to sew its filth further into his remembrance.

Now dawns the realisation that this night is only just starting. Before it unravels further, he must find purchase amongst the mess it has morphed into, and thread it back together as much as he can. Caught in a chorus of clanmates expressing fury at the traitor, Smogmaw's eyes turn to the solitary outsider in their presence. Though he conforms to Scalejaw's angle, that gratitude shouldn't be something for Sunstride to bask in, it is nevertheless owed.

"You're going to be found out for this," comes a confident assertion first, tail whisking about his flank. "When you are, your loyalty'll be called into question, and they'll do their utmost to ruin all that you have. I hope, for your sake, you've been making friends back home—but in me, you've earned yourself some respect. Thank you, Sunstride." A begrudging friend, though a friend all the same. Nothing is owed in return for what was the bare minimum, yet he will not forget what has been done today. "You should talk to me during the next gathering, supposing you're still permitted to breathe when it comes."

This marks a definite juncture. WindClan stands in a precarious condition, teetering towards a war with itself. Such a fragile state may be leveraged against them and see that the moors are laid to waste, a just retribution for the bloodshed they've wrought on the territories, and an effortless battle won to boot. Thus, it is a fatal misjudgment on Sunstride's behalf to expect non-involvement, not when WindClan's belly could be so easily exposed to her myriad enemies. A well-timed blow would offer the closure to everyone who yearned for it.

Or, alternatively, the moor clan may be salvaged, lifted from its ashes by the dappled tom before him. Its path can be rerouted, but its mistakes never undone. Regardless, his sentiment lays poised on a razor-thin precipice. Whatever fate WindClan incurs now remains ambiguous, its verdict withheld.

"They're a lost clan, least 'til their god-queen is dead and buried," he laments, heedless eyes flicking towards his leader. It is then that Smogmaw takes a rearward step, a gap established between him and his daughter, and he gestures through a nod to invite her forward. "Let's lead by example, and show 'em how to deal with problems properly."

Stars help him, Flint will reunite with his son in the nearing hours, unless there's a compelling reason to keep them apart. ​