sensitive topics LAUREL HELL \ deaths

[TWITCHBOLT]

Ill-fated were these endeavours of hunting. The moment he had finally tracked down a squirrel, hard to come by in these winter months... thereupon the air danced a flamenco of scarlet, blood unmistakeable. Coppery taste upon his tongue, even with the slightest hint of its scent- his attention was seized from his task, fixated upon finding the source. It smelled fresh- new spillage, and by what jaws? What victim had fallen?

Only yesterday he had finally stood up for himself, had finally seized the blades that had been concealed within him for so long. The lava-glow of his fury had been spat back in volcanic plumes, returned to and burning the creators of that anger. The night before had been without the curse of a nightmare, and his training that morning had gone particularly well. A bit of hunting- and not as an errand for them- would do to finish the day with a star-spangled bow, send him back to camp with an uncharacteristic bound in his step and a shining grin. Before he had scented that blood, he had been ever-so-eager to return to share a meal with Quillpaw. Someone who really did care about him. But the world had other plans, dictating he could not go a day without a fright.

The drop of his heart pulled him toward the source of the blood-scent, and what he was faced with was a sight he had never considered. Of all the possibilities that rushed through his head, all of the frantic base-covering, he had never thought of this. In a lake of claret, fox-scent strong in the breeze and ichor even stronger, a chocolate-calico pelt and a black-and-white tabby. Their faces frozen in defiance, in fear- Tidespin and Ravencall. Guts tore open, claws unsheathed- his mother and father.

He fell silent, his breath freezing, daring not to even pant. Daring not, for a moment, to scream like he wanted to. Idly, idly, his pupils slipped to find a discarded mouse, killed by a cat. Killed by one of them. They'd been- they'd been hunting. How stupid were they, huh? The one time... the first time they had hunted in moons and moons, and this happened. Why couldn't they do anything right?

He felt ill. Felt sicker than he ever had, and yet forward did he forge, a step taken in the pinkened snow. Their blood knitted with the frost, thickened it, and he felt himself whimper. Felt it as if the noise had been pulled right out of him rather than volunteered. And that whimper stuttered, rumbled- built up and up and up until it became a frenzied scream of "Help! Help me!" A stupid thing to say when they were already dead, and it was not him who needed help. Stupid and selfish, but he could think of nothing more. His posture fumbled, sent him sliding to the ground, to press his forehead against his mother's cold flank.

"H-Help... Help!" Muffled by her fur, he hated the sound of his own voice, razed and wracked with sorrow. Wanted it to run out, like- like their blood in the snow. Wanted his words to spin downstream and never be heard again, in this distraught state, more panicked and peaking than it ever had been. His voice was a storm, petering out, weeping rain all over the place. Why, why was he sad? Sad, when they'd been this stupid? Killed by a- fox, who... who would let that happen? Not them- they never did anything for themselves. Why would they even be out here?

He'd never seen his mother without a smile. And he hated how his father was looking at him, now- looking right at him. Snarling, stuck in the stasis of his final moments. Cryostasis, dead in the cold. No more words could tear from his throat- all he could think of was that they were dead, how the last thing he'd ever done was yell at them, and how he shouldn't care but he did, he did, he did.

---

\ tl;dr twitchpaw finds his parents dead in the snow, killed by a fox while out hunting. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Grief was Love in a fur coat. It sang it's silent song of remembrance, reminding those who are living that they have to continue. It's painful to think about, accepting the death of someone you loved. Family, friends. It never changes fate, however, to wander aimlessly for answers. Fireflypaw had grown used to death, or so he thought. Until the wailing of Twitchpaw, someone he considered a friend, resonated through the forest and Fireflypaw was running through the trees without a second thought. He was no fighter, had no talents for defending those who needed it most- his sister was better at that. But, there wasn't a care in the world as he rushed through the trees and bushes blindly to find his friend.

Help me! Twitchpaw yowled, begging for someone to help him- the scent of blood and fox thick in the air. Fireflypaw slides to a stop when he arrives, eyes fluttering open momentarily to catch the bouncing shadows as he moves; one, two. Two bodies. Dead, with guts splayed across Mother's grounds. He sniffs then, turning to Twitchpaw. "I'm sorry," Firefly apologizes, because what else could he say? Twitchpaw was tired of his parents treating him bad, but what happened when they died? Did one just forget their disdain, if only for a moment? "Help me- Help me carry the bodies back. We need to bury them. S-Someone, someone can prepare a patrol to search for the fox." He suggests nervously, ears swiveling. He can hear the chattering of teeth, knows that Twitchpaw is shaking- he shuts his eyes once more. "Listen, I know- I know you're feeling a lot of different emotions right now, Twitch. I know. But- But we need to move before that fox comes back. Can you do this? If not, someone else can." He meows softly, head bobbing as he moves to wedge himself under the bloodied body of calico fur- his mother. "Someone, help! Fox! It's ran off, but two are dead!"​

 

[ThistleBack]

A wail carries in the canopy he traverses, Thistleback scrabbles on the bark to a halt and retraces his branches quickly before dropping to the ground and bolting toward the source.

Twitchpaw is kneeled over two bodies, head pressed to the fallen pelt of his mother. Fireflypaw’s call beckons him from the shadows, he trots in heavy footfalls on the snow and takes in the massacre with a slowly lifting lip.

Twisted limbs, failed bones and severed arterial stems. The mess made of Twitchpaw’s parents for his witness, was an unforgivable sight. The garden of hope sprinkled with weed killer once again. Thistleback’s maw is rolled into a menacing snarl, his anger bleeds into the quiver of his hackles as it were a bow stung tight.

" Don’t worry about the fox unless I stop breathing " he speaks with conviction, a promise of protection with his company. " Let’s move. I need to get a patrol ready. " he speaks to the young medic urgently.

" Can you help Fireflypaw carry your mother? be gentle, as she walks to Starclan. " he bows his head near Twitchpaw’s, words to aid fresh grief. There was no way to gauge grief, that his words were even registered but they were there nonetheless.

The way the couple spoke about their son, Thistleback’s ear had caught a few a time when he was looking after his own kits. This oddly registers him as he looks upon their irreparable bodies. If time had been granted further, would they have made it right with their heartbroken son? Or was this Starclan’s way of punishing them. It was a dark thought, so he focused his ill notions unto the fox running amuck and the need to move.

Thistleback lifts a cold scruff and dips under the fallen warrior, Twitchpaw’s father. The weight cast across his shoulders and back laid evenly but heavy enough to crouch his stance a bit. Silver eyes watching the grief-struck orphan carefully now.

​

OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• 
  
  
  ✧ T H I S T L E B A C K
  thirty-three moons
  — Lead warrior of Skyclan
  — taken by
  Deersong 9.29.22
  — mentoring quillpaw
  — 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
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

CUZ I DONT REALLY LIKE ANYBODY​

---

He'd never been scared for another cat before. Not when him and the other cats his age were knocking on deaths door by tormenting the local canine population and someone got too close, not when they were playing chicken against the twolegs monsters and someone was too slow to bolt, not even when his father worked himself up into a violent rage and was lashing out at his mother. At best there was an acknowledgement, a silent understanding that, damn, that must fucking suck. He wasn't so devoid of emotion that he couldn't understand when someone was suffering, and sometimes he was even able to relate and feel bad for them. Could he ever say he'd turned back for someone who'd gotten themselves got in the jaws of a dog though? That he tried comforting a cat in their final moments after they were dragged off the road in the wake of a speeding monster? No, he hadn't.

But he was afraid now.

He'd heard Twitch scream before, had heard him shout in alarm or shirek in surprise after being unintentionally jumpscared by something, but he'd never heard such unfiltered terror within his friends cries for help before. And the fact that Quill couldn't see them, that he couldn't imediately assess the situation first hand had an effect he wouldn't have anticipated. Quill tore through the snow covered woodland as if he himself were the one in danger, heart racing in his chest and lungs burning from the cold. And then he proceeded to torture himself by running through every possible danger his friend could be in- a stray dog? tresspassing windclanners? a hungry fox?. Had he not been panicking and bursting with adreniline at the thought of his friend being torn apart by another animal, he might have considered the whole thing very 'Twitchpaw' of him.

It turned out, he wasn't too far off though.

By the time the youth came bursting through the dead foliage to stand within the clearing with his clanmates, his nose and lungs were already filled with the scent of copper, thoughts spiralling toward the worst case scenario. Fur spiked up, claws unsheathed, and pupils narrowed to slits, the chimera tabby looked ready to fight half of Windclan off one adreniline rush alone. Only there was no enemy waiting for him, just Thistleback, Fierflypaw, Twitchpaw, and the quickly cooling corpses of the latters parents.

Mismatched eyes snapped shut, not because the gore was unbareable, but because he was afraid that the others might see the relief swimming in them and he didn't want them to think he was a monster. It wasn't that he was glad they were dead because he wasn't, not at all, but fuck... At least it wasn't Twitchpaw. For a second there he'd really thought...

He tore those thoughts out of his head with a viciousness that surprised him, clawing to ribbons the mental image of mahogany and cream fur soaked through with blood, eyes vacant, insides now outside. Blue and amber eyes snapped open at the sound of his mentors voice, and anger sparked to life in his chest. They wanted Twitch to carry his own mother? It had been a good while since Quill had wanted to claw Thistle, but he felt the urge to do so rise up now. The Chimera didn't want the other apprentice here at all, didn't need them soaking in the horrid details so they could haunt him later- and these fucking idiots wanted him to carry his own-

"I'll do it." he all but growled as he strode forward, eyes blazing with emotions he couldn't afford to buy into right then- not when Twitch was crying and there was still a fox.

His gaze never left Twitches crying form, huddled against their mothers flank, and as Firefly attempted to slip beneath the shecat, Quill made his way to the other apprentices and tried to gently nudge him away from the corpse, aiming to place himself between the boy and blood-soaked body as if he could shield them from the sight of it.

"I've got her, Twitch. Let's get them back to camp, okay?" he murmured, the words a soft rumble meant only for them before he turned to help Fireflypaw, teeth gripping the shecats scruff to lift her up.

He didn't want to carry her. He wanted to leave this entire mess behind for the others to deal with so he could take Twitch as far away from it as possible and let them mourn in privacy. But he wasn't sure that was an option right now, couldn't tell if his friend could be coerced into leaving them entirely, and somehow Quill didn't think that Twitch would appreciate leaving the bodies behind for the fox to come back for. So he helped, because the sooner they were back to camp the sooner he could check on his friend like he actually wanted to. Twitch hadn't left him the day he'd returned from the border raid, had walked him to Dawnglares den and helped patch him up.

Twitch may not have been bleeding out in the snow, but Quill still felt himself overcome by a fierce need to protect them from this new pain they were experiencing.
​

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skyclan - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders

 

[BLAZESTAR]

His son's cries that ring throughout the forest bring Blazestar on stumbling paws, half-ignoring the pulsing hot wound that still burns with his vigorous movements. Twitchpaw and Fireflypaw both, calling for help, help me, and Blazestar's thoughts go to the worst -- especially when the stench of feline blood washes over him.

Thistleback and Quillpaw have beaten him to the grisly scene, and Blazestar stumbles as he sees the wretched state of Ravencall and Tidespin. Their insides are spilled into the pine needles, their eyes sightless with fear and agony. The Ragdoll whispers, "StarClan save us." He's never seen a cat killed so brutally, so ruthlessly before -- ravaged, partially-eaten.

He moves to assist Thistleback and Quillpaw, but first he pauses near Twitchpaw. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. He knows the young tomcat's parents were not nurturing, were not kind to him, but no one should have to see their kin in such a state. "Fireflypaw, please take him to Dawnglare." He gives his son a look that leaves no room for argument before going to assist his lead warrior and Quillpaw with the bodies.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Fireflypaw can feel the tension in the air as people run to help them, can feel blood soaking into his tan fur but others offer to carry the bodies for him. Mother and father, both slain by a fox until nothing but gore is left behind. Fireflypaw hears his father speak to him, it's an echo- but an order nonetheless. The only thing he can make sense of, beneath the panic.

Fireflypaw, please take him to Dawnglare. Yes, surely the high priest could do something for Twitchpaw. They were friends, weren't they? Twitchpaw could trust him to take care of him- Firefly wouldn't do anything if it wasn't beneficial to himself or others he cared about. He lets the mother slide off of his shoulder, offers her to Quillpaw with a frown. His paws carry him over to Twitchpaw, unsure. "Let's- Let's get 'ya to Dawnglare's den. 'Kay?" I only want to make sure you're safe, He wants to say, but he knows it's useless in this moment. He loves his parents. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if Blazestar or Little Wolf died, leaving him to take care of his siblings alone. The agony would be too much, the grief too paralyzing. His father was his rock, his anchor in this harsh world. He spares a moment to look over his shoulder, eyes squinting to get a good look at his flame-pointed father. Don't leave me, He thought to himself, aching to remind his father that he loved him. I don't.. I don't know what I'd do without you. But the words go unsaid for now, unspoken. He has a job to do.

He closes his eyes, circling Twitchpaw to shield his eyes from the gory sight of his dead parents. Hopefully he came without much trouble.​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

The world dragged its heels as it moved around him, faces and voices blurring into the next. He- he wanted no one to see him this way, wishing with every shuddering inhalation that his gasping breath could pull backward the arrow of time. Foolish thought, really- live most things that crossed his mind. Like most, a silly, silly thought. The blood wrung hands around his throat, squeezed his airway smaller. Above the imagined din, Fireflypaw's voice rang out- and then, domino-pelted, Thisteback. What were they saying...? What were they...

Carry his mother. Carry them. He'd already done so much for them, and now- now they wanted him to carry them? Another errand on the list. He was sure this was their wish, beyond the grave. Some sort of... some sort of lesson. A final repayment. And he didn't want to do it, didn't want to do it, heard Quillpaw, Quillpaw, Quillpaw interject. Dark-furred saviour. Through the shimmer of his tears, the blur of the world and the mind-rending dizziness of it all, he caught Quillpaw- saw him volunteering. Looked at him, face pulled into a twisting, tearful frown. "I cah- can't... I can't... don't..." And he knew he wouldn't have to, but he still couldn't. Couldn't even watch it. Couldn't....

He'd follow them, that's how it would go. Follow them in a funeral wake, scent of death hung around him. People would think he'd killed them. People would think he'd failed to protect them. Everyone would think he brought death to the safety of camp. They would, and then- where would he be left? Eyes locked upon Quillpaw, silent thanks in his gaze, he couldn't speak to voice it. His words died in his throat, fizzled out and retreated to his lungs, became another shattered sob.

I'm sorry. That was Blazestar. Looking up at him, Twitchpaw tore his eyes away from Quillpaw and his mother, Thistleback and his father. They were going to get blood all over themselves. "Ah- ah... I- I..." Unintelligible. A muddle of words, falling all over himself. Wobble, wobbling, faltering voice. He hated it, he hated it. Hated being like this, and hated it even more when there was precedent for it. Caution would have served them well. What were they doing? Why were they so stupid? "Duh-Dawn- g-glare- no, I... I can't, we have to check, we didn't- what if they're still..."

Nothing. His words meant nothing. hollow reassurance, stupid and sourceless speculation. He knew they were dead, and there was nothing to check. The plod of his paws forward- it was autopilot, almost. Instinct to follow even breathless kin, and his own breaths shuddered with what he believed might be never-ending sobs. Attention shattered with the most perfect facsimile of horror shifted to Quillpaw for a few moments longer, soon falling to the ground again. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

CUZ I DONT REALLY LIKE ANYBODY​

---

It was his first lesson in responsibility over personal desire, the first instance where he would willingly deny himself of something he wanted for the sake of doing what had to be done. Everytime Twitchpaws gaze landed on him, every strangled sob he heard shudder its way past their lips, took every ounce of self-control he had not to leave the body where it lay and go to his friend. He'd never felt such an inate need to be close to another cat before, but it was almost suffocating in that moment, because there was nothing he wouldn't have given to curl around the other and hide them away from all of it.

And it felt like a betrayal to not go with them because Twitchpaw had stuck by his side without a second thought when he'd come back from the border raid and needed medical attention, but there were only so many cats present and more than Quillpaws want to be at his friends side was his need to keep them safe, and he wouldn't for a fucking second let Twitchpaw have to be a part of this. Wouldn't let them stain their fur in their parents blood with the memory of their cold, stiff bodies dragging along behind them. That could be Quills burden to bare.

As Firefly handed the shecat over to him and made their way over to Twitch, Quill shifted and allowed Blazestar to help position the body so that it was draped across his back. The paws still dragged against the snow and he felt the sickly feeling of cooling blood and gore wetting his fur, but he didn't flinch in the face of it all, didn't even allow himself to feel the usual disgust that came whenever his fur got wet.

Once the body was secure and Thistle was ready with the other, the trek back to camp began. He caught the flash of green and gold sent in his direction, and his own mismatched eyes shifted to meet them, holding Twitchpaws gaze and once again fighting off the desire to drift closer to them. He couldn't- in fact, he made a distinct point of not walking near the other, trying to lag behind so that they didn't accidentally catch sight of their mother strewn across his back.

"I'll come find you as soon as I can." he tried to assure them. "Promise."

He would have to help them put the bodys somewhere, might be called on the patrol that was sent to deal with the fox who did it -though he just might try and weasel his way out of that one if it meant getting to his friend sooner- and then he'd have to try and get some of the blood and gore off of him before he could let Twitch see him properly, but he meant every word. Twitch wasn't alone and this wasn't his fault, and Quill didn't intend on leaving him to believe such for any longer than was necessary.

And he wasn't sure how he was going to accomplish that exactly, but he knew he was going to try even if he didn't have a lick of experience making others feel better about things like this.

Letting his gaze shift to Firefly, the look he gave them was equal parts demand as it was a plea; look after him.
​

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skyclan - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders