camp LET WATERS RUN RED [🗡️] Call for Battle


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SOOTSTAR ♀
A rosy dawn outlined the figure of the leader as she scaled the Tallrock. Two moonrises had passed since the gathering where WindClan had learned Dandelionwish now slithered among kittypets. Much of the clan had been sent into shock, suspecting their former medicine cat to have ran off into the uncharted lands of loners and rogues. Perhaps she should've known that weed would not so easily be plucked from the clans.

WindClan has suffered immense disrespect from all the clans, yet Sootstar's pride for all she has built still swells inside her heart. She would not allow for her clan to be treated this way, if she had to hail attacks on all the clans to keep their dignity in tact, so be it. "All cats old enough to race the moors gather beneath the Tallrock for a clan meeting!" Her voice rings through the crisp morning air. She watches her clan trickle in below her paws, many of them have the wits to expect what is coming. She was not deaf to clan gossip and whispers.

As a gale sweeps across the camp she curls her tail dominantly into the air, "Cats of WindClan, we have suffered many loses as of late. ShadowClan may have claimed victory at the thunderpath, and RiverClan bit hard at our borders, but we are WindClan and we are strong! We are favorited by StarClan and the clans that surround us have forgotten their place." Her voice is low and angry, but she keeps her head on her shoulders. She needed to if she was going to rally her clan for one last fight, it was time to put an end to this losing streak. "At twilight we make way to SkyClan, they will pay for their insults and mockery at the gathering, then the others will be next."

Green eyes are set ablaze and despite her recent life loss the smoke looks stronger than ever. Claws flex into the stone in promise that they will soon meet soft kittypet flesh. "The clans will be taught to fear us once and for all. When we fight tonight the warriors of StarClan will be at our sides!" Or so you will all think… if only you knew. But if feeding her clan a thousand lies is what it took to ensure victory, it was well worth it. "Bluepool, Scorchstreak, Ghostwail, Cygnetstare, Rattleheart, and Cedarbark, you will be joining me tonight. Sharpen your claws and ready your apprentices if they've proven ready for the heat of battle. We leave at first starlight!"

// @Bluepool @SCORCHSTREAK @GHOSTWAIL @cygnetstare @RATTLEHEART @cedarbark
please bring apprentices with at your characters own ic discretion!
This takes place the morning of the other meeting that im writing rn, so no ceremonies have commenced yet
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The soot-furred queen cries for the clan to gather, and luckily for Silkspin he had always been an early riser. His old bones make the way over, where he sweeps a fluffy tail over his paws as he sits, stifling a yawn. She jumps straight in to it and Silkspin has to hide his look of slight confusion under a stony mask. If she had heard the other woman correctly, they were planning on hitting every single clan. So far, only six warriors are called forth, seven with the queen herself.

Are you willing to risk it? Seven cats against a whole clan, not including their apprentices, but she would not question her decisions... Windclan was strong, guided by the Stars themselves... It'd be foolish to question it, but she cannot hide the gnawing feeling that they'll return carrying a body of a fallen warrior. "May the Stars light your paths and bring endless spoils from your victories." he speaks lowly, a quiet prayer. And keep them safe, healthy. He dips their head before they rises, squinting his eyes at Soot to see her more clearly. She's confident enough that it puts them to ease. What was he worrying about? Certainly not the other clans, but the cats of Windclan have become akin to his own little grandchildren. He would hate to see them hurt, disgraced with the talons of cats who are not worthy enough. He pushes the thoughts down. May the others feel the wrath of Windclan.
"speech"​
 

It is morning, rose dawn marking the time Cygnetstare could be either leaving or returning given the odd hours she keeps—luckily today she is rising and preparing to take cover from the face of the angry sun that has begun to glow pink over the prairie vales. Sootstar's call turns her paws to join the Clan as it trickles into the meeting hollow; she is strange but not asocial and the Clan's whispers wreath her tattered ivory ears, indicating the likely subject of this meeting. A snake writhes between her notched ribs, painting her viscera eyes with a shine of pale excitement; oh, how she prays that today they got to battle against any of the innumerable beasts that twist eelish beneath their claws. Who it is does not matter to her; pigmentless claws and bloodied teeth will find equal purchase, milky eyes will light with as much visceral joy regardless of whose flesh she finally, blessedly carves into ribbons. Be it the squirming salty flesh of the fish-beasts, the muddy stinking fur of the flatlanders; perhaps the creatures that lurk in brush and the cover of trees or the ones that dance in the branches with songs waiting to be silenced by eager teeth.

Her graveyard prayers are answered by those whose constellation eyes stare unblinking from beyond the tattered veil; Sootstar's low and angry mew chimes her name. Tonight, it seems, her squirming claws will find a happy burrow in the red-dripping feathers of the sky-things; she is eager and it shows in how those claws sink deep into the sandy earth. It is a poor replacement for what awaits her tonight like a sacrifice; snakelike, serpentine she will twine her reaching paws about the necks of the birds and silence them forever, never again will their evil songs dance upon the ears of the ones who run the moors. They will fight until they fall if they must, for they are assured a place in the high palaces of the beyond by virtue of their place in the chosen Clan; it is the duty gifted them by birth that they must crush the things beneath their claws. She will slam their pitiful wispy skulls against hers until they break and stream ichor, twist their bones and shatter their wings forever; she will unravel their beaks and trace patterns in scarlet across their feathers one by one. Oh yes, they will do this and more.

The crescent moon need not worry for their life; no, they must not raise a pitiful defense but pursue the chirps until they fall silent. Those who inhabit death's realm will protect them, glance claws from their neck and bloody the mouths of those who might speak ill of their Clan. If they should fall they will do it happily. A terrible light glitters in Cygnetstare's eyes as they entertain these delicious thoughts, that they will be the wrath of WindClan and secure the endless spoils the cats about them speak of. First starlight cannot come soon enough, and finally they breathe it like a prayer, "The stars will bless us this battle. I'm sure 'f it."
 
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This is to be expected. Scorchstreak knows what this call from her leader is about. She had been at the gathering, had seen the faces of traitors within SkyClan's ranks, had listened to Sootstar's outburst. The other clans disrespect her, threaten her life, and expect no retaliation—they demonize WindClan for attacking. She has been awaiting some kind of announcement to the clan back home. And oh, isn't it a great one? WindClan is going to attack SlyClan—and at night, when the sun will not be directly in her eyes. The tunneler is built for fighting in the dark, made for slinking through shadow. A panther, coiled, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. There is no pride in an ambush, but when have the other clans ever known pride?

The calico, stoic as ever, dips her head as she is called upon. At last, she thinks. She can get her paws dirty. She can wash in the blood of every SkyClanner who chooses to defend their traitors. And yet—she cannot help but to hope that the traitors will turn on SkyClan, as well. Let Blazestar's idiot clan see their true colors. "SkyClan doesn't stand a chance," she says, golden eyes flirting to her black and white sibling, who has also been called to battle. She glances around for her kits in the meantime, hoping to reassure them that she will return.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
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The rumor mill of WindClan's camp did not hesitate to spread the events of the most recent gathering. SkyClan's betrayal cannot go unpunished. Sootstar will not let it slide—and the audacity of that orange tom, to parade them around like that…

When Sootstar announces the fight, Gravelsnap is glad for it. WindClan cannot allow themselves to be walked all over, especially after the humiliating losses to both ShadowClan and RiverClan. But they are not asked to go, and rather than feeling angry as they expect themself to, Gravelsnap only feels relieved. They think of Peri, injured and on the brink of death, lying in the healer's den. They have a duty to care for their clanmates. They will continue to teach Thriftpaw each lesson required to keep him safe. They will continue to stay far from the other clans. They will watch a third patrol return from battle, and they will pray that this one returns in better shape than the last two.
[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]
 



Yes! Finally! Bluepool is more than ecstatic to finally get an opportunity to join in on a battle. Reccently, the had lost to RiverClan and ShadowClan and both times she had not been present. This time though, things would be different. SkyClan was a bunch of soft-pawed kittypets and kittypet lovers, this would be a fight she is confident that they would win. Especially with her and her sister both taking part.

"I can't wait to show those kittypets a lesson in fighting!" she says to whoever happens to be closest to her before her eyes search the crowd for Scorchstreak, glad she is coming with. Perhaps the fighting lessons would stick and her friend would make for an even more formidable opponent then she already was. Either way she is glad they had sparred recently. It had been nice to brush up on her skills. She also searches for Heathclaw and Houndthistle, sad that neither of them were coming with but there was no way Sootstar would let Hound fight, she knows it. Even so, it would have been nice to have either of them at her side but she does not allow herself to lament for long. The cats that were coming were all formidable fighters on their own, and who knew? Maybe having a couple of the clan weirdos there would prove to be a useful tactic.

 
❪ TAGS ❫ — Snakepaw doesn't enjoy being roused from his slumber, but he's much more used to it now with Badgermoon as a mentor. Today, however, it was not the bi-colored tom that woke him but instead the Moor Queen herself. This announcement must have not been able to wait.

The anticipation of drama and blood-hungry spurred excitement pumped through Snakepaw's veins as he approached the Tallrock. His ears were pricked, keen and actively digesting Sootstar's address. It was about time that WindClan attempted to make up for their other losses. They were the most powerful clan in the land and they would be damned if StarClan allowed them to lose to a clan full of soft-pawed kittypets!

Claws kneaded the ground impatiently, his mind flooding with endless possibilities. Imagine if he fought a SkyClanner; killed them, even! Maybe Badgermoon would allow him to obtain his warrior name early, and he would be the one to receive praise and admiration! Snakepaw had embarrassed himself in the raid on RiverClan all of those moons ago and this time he was determined to set things right.

Only... his name was never called. Snakepaw had been so sure that Badgermoon would be chosen to attend after not being able to participate in the previous battles, but it seemed that Sootstar wanted to deal with SkyClan herself, meaning that her deputy would have to stay behind in camp.

No... no, no! This wasn't supposed to happen! Pitch-black ears pin against the back of his head as the raiding party is praised and blessed with prayers and words of encouragement. Why couldn't he have his moment of glory? When would he be able to prove himself to Sootstar? Defeating SkyClan would be laughably easy, too!

Bitter and indignant, the dark-furred apprentice gritted his teeth and swiftly turned away from the crowd, hoping to seclude himself to a corner of camp and sulk for the rest of the day.
 
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The call of Sootstar's voice across the morning air didn't immediately set off any alarms in Rattleheart's head, the tunneler stretching out and yawning before making his way over. He figured maybe it was just a ceremony meeting, or an update on their future plans regarding Riverclan and Shadowclan. That all would have been fine, but then he took notice of the fire in her tone. Sharp and angry, talking about their recent losses to Riverclan and Shadowclan but then focusing on Skyclan. The notion made him pause, staring up at Sootstar with a look of apprehension and worry on his face - they'd already made enemies of two of the other clans, and now they were trying to take on more? It seemed so foolhardy to him, and yet those around him didn't seem nearly as paralyzed. Silkspin seemed like the only other one who wasn't enthusiastic - aside from Snakepaw, whose anger seemed to lie more in the fact that he and his mentor hadn't been selected. Rattleheart glanced almost desperately at the senior warrior, as if they would be able to speak up and shake some sense into Sootstar and the others. Instead they just offered a prayer, and his heart sank.

It wasn't a secret that Rattleheart had never been a fighter. He had never enjoyed violence, or inflicting pain on others without a very good reason. And yet, Windclan had taken him and his siblings in. He owed the clan as a whole, and Sootstar by extension. He couldn't just turn his back on any of his clanmates, as much as his paws felt like lead - especially not when Scorchstreak had been selected alongside him. There was no way he would leave his sister to fight alone, not when he had already missed the previous two battles due to hiding in the shadows. This was at least enough to send him forward on shaky legs, pressing up against Scorchstreak's side before he could speak. His voice was notably softer than the others, less a cry of determination and more a reassurance for himself. "Starclan will protect us. And bring us back home with a victory, finally..." That had to be true, right? If they were really the favored of Starclan, then the stars wouldn't let them suffer another loss at the paws of others.

//ic opinions ofc!! I love sootstar being insane <3
[ PENNED BY EO ]
 
Another battle with Skyclan and Spiderbloom finds herself nostalgic for her first battle as a Windclanner. How they pushed through a blizzard to steal catmint from the paws of those selfish kittypets to help their dying clanmates.

She remembers standing there at the border as Badgermoon demanded from Blazestar the herbs. She remembers the chaos that erupted when he said no.

She remembers clear as day the way she stole a life from him for it. The memory made her smile.

"Say hello to Blazestar for me." She says.

She had gone back to her duties this moon, but she still felt..... Out of shape. Perhaps she needed to kickstart her system. Maybe she needed to sprint across the territory.

That's what she will do today.​
 
Badgermoon approached on light paws, golden eyes upturned to study the Queen of the Moorland: his expression of admiration and approval was clear as day. Sootstar was right: SkyClan's audacity needed to be punished, especially since Badgermoon had not forgotten how they had turned their backs on WindClan in their hour of greatest need. Insult after insult, piling up, while kittypets paraded in and out of the forest, as if the life of a warrior was something to step in and out of at will. Playing at being warriors. he thought with disgust. And showing cruelty and disrespect while doing so. it was enough to send a shiver of longing down his spine: how he wished to fight them again. How he wished to give Orangeblossom another scar. One large, speckled paw strayed up to rest over the gnarled pink mass on his chest as Sootstar fired off the names of those cats she would be taking into battle. He bowed his head: his leader's choices were good ones, and he understood why he was being left at home...but it was still a touch agonizing to hear.

Badgermoon eyed his Clanmates, studying their reactions - Snakepaw's fury, Rattleheart's unease, Cygnetstare's...Cygnet-ness - with interest. The mother of his kits would be joining this battle, and while he did not fear for a lack of ferocity on her behalf, he could not help but feel a stab of concern. "Come home safely." he murmured to Scorchstreak, attempting to brush his tail against the mottled tunneler's side. Afterwards he'd trot briskly towards his apprentice, following Snakepaw as he spun around, making as if to march off in a huff. "I'm disappointed, too, for what it's worth." he murmured to the black-furred youth. "If it's any comfort...if Sootstar had chosen me to join the patrol, I would have brought you with me."
 
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"BECAUSE COWBOY DAN'S A MAJOR PLAYER IN THE COWBOY SCENE"

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The call for another battle rouses the brute from his nap inside the medicine cat den. Lumbering out, he comes face to face with his clan surrounding Sootstar and there's a flicker of unease across his features as he realizes what's happening. Quickly steeling his expression, he merely watches from the sideline, but he can feel his heart twist in unease, seeing Badgermoon wish Scorchstreak luck, the shape of Bluepool by her tyrannical sister, and Houndthistle's ears give an uneasy flick. His lopsided gaze is harrowed, resigned in thought as he mulls over what is happening. She plans to kill us all, His mind whispers, single gaze flicking to look at Sootstar's maniacal stance, observing her quietly as he takes in that bloodthirsty, vengeful look in her eyes. The wounds of the last two skirmishes were still fresh, his own barely reaching the point of not being torn open under too much force, and here she was calling for another one, and it was like he was looking at the ghost of times past, watching history repeat over and over. Too resigned to speak out, though, he just watches, and looks between the faces of cats he's come to see as comrades who this mad queen is dragging to their demises over her own hurt spirit. Vengeance is a cruel, sly fox, she is. If yer planning on meetin' her, ya better plan on losin' everythin' you have or hope to the stars you ain' got nothin' left, cause you can make yer deal for satisfaction... but will the possibility of losin' everythin' you have be worth it? His words he'd spoken to Gravelsnap back when he was but a whelp rang hearty in his mind and soul, and he couldn't help but wonder which of his friends he'd see coming back as a limp body upon return.


"speech"

  • text
  • Physical Health
    68%
    ⤷ left eye is blinded, deep bite wound and claw marks in chest, stomach, face, and shoulders. Currently offscreen healing thanks to Wolfsong and Vulturemask
    Mental Health
    98%
  • Single | Bicurious | Not actively looking | Interested in Wolfsong, Scorchstreak, Sootspritespark

    Houndthistle is both an easy one to gain the trust of and impossible to gain the trust of. He'll rarely reveal personal information or be vulnerable-if he's even capable of such things-but he will show trust in his willingness to lay his life down. To gain it, he needs evidence that you're loyal and strong, same as him, otherwise he understands he may one day have to come head to head with you.

    — will start fights / will not flee / will not show mercy
    — excels at Fighting, Tracking, Following Orders, Intimidation
    — poor at climbing, swimming, stealth, talking, strategy, politics
    — sounds like: deep, gravelled and thick with a sort of country accent / Arthur Morgan
    — smells of iron, leather, and wood
    — speech is #435E75

 
It was a sick sort of glee that Ghostwail rises to her paws at the sound of her given name. Sadism runs through her veins by nature, but an antsy sort of hunger accompanies it now, a sort of excitement that is usually saved for an apprentice's first outing in the territory. She is made for violence, war, and bloodshed and she is all too happy to follow her sovereign into this battle (she would be all too happy to follow Sootstar into any battle, if only given the chance.)

Cats around her are murmuring soft words of comfort to each other, acting as if this is some sordid affair. She pushes down a scoff, forcing her face to stay as neutral as ever. Beating the other clans into submission was what they were made for, especially in the matter of traitors and turn-coats. SkyClan would rue their status as a haven for scum; Sootstar's soldiers will be sure to remind the kittypets and their stowaways what true loyalty looks like, and what dishonor will do to those foolish enough to court it...

SkyClan was only the beginning. The phantom's burning gaze was fixated on the Tallrock, on her queen, the empress of the forest. The empire would make its first stand tonight.
- you call for peace when it suits you
 
TAGS — Scorchkit catches her mother's eye as she looks back at her litter, and she tries to glean the intended meaning out of it. She will return. It will all be okay. Mom will come back. The little reflection stands close to Badgermoon's ankle, seeking comfort that her own mantra does not give her. Because, if Sootstar had lost a life in the skirmish against ShadowClan, how can Scorchkit trust that her mother will not lose a life also? Sure, SkyClan is a bunch of kittypets-- they don't possess half the strength of a regular WindClan warrior, let alone the strength of Scorchstreak. But a small pit of fear opens in the ember-brushed kitten's stomach. If Scorchstreak didn't come back, what would that make her? She is, after all, her mother's daughter more than anything.

She stands next to Badgermoon, their matching set of broad shoulders set square with an anxiety that only one of them would admit to. For as much as she resembles Scorchstreak, her emotions in this moment play closer to her father's influence. There is a certain agony that accompanies inability. Scorchkit knows nothing of battle, but her chest aches as she is left behind to wait-- to imagine the outcome that she would be met with at dawn. She did not think she was prone to worry, but the way her heart seems to seize with it now pushes the young girl to lean her weight on Badgermoon's ankle. Her gaze catches on Houndthistle's still-fresh wound, and she imagines Scorchstreak returning with one to match, or worse. Scorchkit's stomach twists. Rattleheart joins her mother's side and the child cannot help but wonder if she would lose her uncle, too; it is a kind of catastrophizing that she hardly understands. Come home safely, Badgermon had whispered. Scorchkit echoes the sentiment in her mind, but remains still and quiet, with only her eyes to communicate the weight of her worry.​
 

The call hadn't been for him, but Luckykit can't help but overhear the harsh words punctuating the air, can't help but to gravitate a little closer, following Scorchkit's lead. Some of the happenings of late have gone over his head, reasons for skirmishes and for ire cast against other Clans little more than because they've wronged us and because we are better, and this time is hardly any different - really, all that's changed is the Clan. As a whole, his knowledge of the other four Clans is lacking, but these past few days, talk surrounding SkyClan has increased tenfold, with cats throwing around the word 'traitors' over and over again. It's an unsettling notion, the very idea of a traitor - for, what kind of cat would betray their Clan, least of all betray WindClan? Surely there isn't any good reason to turn away from the strongest of the Clans, and taking in someone you know to be a traitor doesn't seem much better. His immediate thought is that, of course, WindClan will crush those kittypets - how could they not, after all? - but the seeds of doubt have been sowed in Luckykit's mind after their previous two losses. WindClan is the strongest, and yet they keep losing over and over again; what if they lose again? Can you really be the strongest if you can't ever win?

More startling than that thought is the names called of the cats to join Sootstar on this raid - chiefly among them being Scorchstreak. Just as his mother seeks them out from the crowd, he seeks her as well, wide eyes searching for her familiar form. There's no doubt in his mind that she's fierce, that she's not the bravest cat he knows, but Luckykit's heart still hammers in his chest at the implications. After all, Sootstar is just as fierce in his mind, and she lost a life at one against ShadowClan - what if this time it isn't Sootstar, blessed by StarClan with lives to spare, but Scorchstreak? It won't happen, he thinks, can't happen; his mother is too proud and strong to be beaten by kittypets. And yet, and yet... Thinking about the other cats being called into battle doesn't exactly help - as much as he couldn't bare to lose Scorchstreak, it's not like he wants to lose Rattleheart, either. Really, he doesn't want any of them to be defeated by SkyClan, not like Sootstar had been and not like Houndthistle or Periwinklebreeze had been, damaged terribly by their enemies. It's scary, thinking that any number of the cats gathered could come crawling back to camp so thoroughly battered, or that they might not even come back in the first place. Maybe not aloud would he admit it, but it's not something hard to come to terms with - Luckykit is scared, in a way he hadn't felt before the raid on ShadowClan.

Still, he has to hold onto hope and believe that they'll all come back fine and victorious - after all, it's what everybody keeps saying (and if it's what everybody said last time, too, he can only push the thought to the back of his mind). Jaw set in a wobbly line, Luckykit tries to meet Scorchstreak's gaze with even an ounce of bravery, of confidence in her abilities - surely he owes that to his mother, at least. He doesn't want her to have to go off to battle and worry about him while she's fending off SkyClan warriors; he can be brave, if only for a night. Throughout the announcement, he's stood alone, away from the rest of the crowd, but now he moves forward to join Scorchkit and Badgermoon, head held high despite the tremors he can feel running through his paws. It hadn't felt like this before the ShadowClan raid, but then again, it's Scorchstreak on the line this time, not just clanmates in general. More than anything, he wants to run to his mother's side, wants to plead with her not to go and to make sure that she'll be careful and to encourage her like the rest of his clanmates are doing, but instead, Luckykit remains as if a mirror to Scorchkit, silently watching. Right now, he's not sure he could trust his paws to steadily carry him over to Scorchstreak, or even to Rattleheart; certainly, he can't trust his voice not to tremble, or his words to come out right. Not until they all come back safe, victory finally within their grasp.
[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]
 
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