camp light shower ; return

[ for context, cottonpaw's patrol was not in camp when everything went down! they are only returning now, shortly after sunstride's cats have fled! ]

Cottonpaw returns home, closely on the heels of the patrol she's gathered. Her maw is filled with several stems and leaves, the scent drowning out anything untoward that she might've found on the way back (her patrolmates, however, seem somewhat unsettled as they approach camp.) She notes how there's little tufts of fur caught on the gorse, signal of a quick retreat, and when she has a chance to drop her bundle, she can taste the blood in the air. Blood, and... oh no...

Dead bodies. Did the rogues come back? She doesn't want to believe it, especially with their lack of scent - but Lynxtooth and Lilacstem, they lay with blood spilled and cooling. She sees, too, how many of the cats that linger about sport new wounds, but winning grins. Cottonpaw blinks away her fear, allowing confusion and curiosity to consume her instead.

"What - what happened? We were only gone for a bit!" she exclaims, tail lashing, "Where's Wolfsong? Has he seen everyone already?" It doesn't look like her mentor's seen a single soul, which is entirely too unlike him. ​
 

❀༉˖° It was one thing to have experienced the chaos first-hand. One moment, everything had been fine, the day going by as usual, and the next, everything had been turned upside down. Peonypaw's mind was still reeling from it all, and he doubted he'd soon get to wrap his head around it all.

But it was an entirely different thing to have to tell it to someone unaware. He wasn't certain who had it better; the ones who were in camp to see it all unfold, or the ones blissfully fulfilling their regular duties?

"I don't think he's going to be treating us anymore." His voice was low and somber as he talked to Cottonpaw. Perhaps if he kept quiet enough, he'd wake from this nightmare and realize none of it was true. "Sunstride betrayed us, and they all fled."
°
 
Part of Bluefrost had feared Cottonpaw, Whitepaw, and the rest of the patrol had chosen sacrilege. She hadn’t seen her sister, but she had seen Wolfsong, his teeth buried into Hummingbirdheart’s throat, scattering her remains across camp. When Cottonpaw and her small herb-gathering patrol slip through the gorse barrier, Bluefrost rises to her paws with surprising quickness. She is not the physically affectionate type—even when Moorblossom had returned from her sickness, Bluefrost had resisted returning her sister’s affectionate gestures, her nuzzles and squeals, but now she trembles with relief, resisting the urge to rub her flank against Cottonpaw’s. Her sister had not turned traitor—but where are the rest of her kin?

Peonypaw breaks the news first. Bluefrost finds herself watching Cottonpaw's expression carefully for any signs of—well, of disloyalty.

Sunstride returned our kits to ShadowClan,” she explains, breathless. She searches the blue of her twin’s eyes, mouth twitching into a frown. “He turned traitor. Wolfsong went with him. Many—” She exhales, turning her face away briefly with bitter regret, “Many of our Clanmates went with them. They killed Hummingbirdheart and Lynxtooth.



, ”
 
*+:。.。 The battle had not affected Ebonylight in the same way it had with their clanmates. It couldn't, not when the building tension had been a source of excited anticipation for the feline, hungry to see how this particular volcano erupted. But oh, erupted it most certainly did, and while watching from the sidelines had been almost painful, there was a whole new thrill in it, too. For this time - for the first time, really - Ebonylight had had something to protect! Unfortunately, the battle had taken away Ebonylight's means to continue to care for their unborn kits, and Wolfsong's betrayal had cost the clan it's medicine cat.
Luckily, not it's only healer, though.

"Wolfsong killed Hummingbirdheart" Ebonylight hisses, injecting their voice with disgust. Pulling forth from the shadows, the obsidian panther widened their grin into a grimace, "We are better off without their poison in our ranks...Cottonpaw, I'm so glad you're safe" Of course, with little knowledge of the lass aside from her usefulness as a botany trainee, they didn't share Bluefrost's familial relief, only the fragile hope that the molly would respond well to the probing sympathies. Hopefully, Cottonpaw would get a clue and fall in line, lest Windclan would lose two of it's medics.




  • GENERAL:
    Ebonylight
    DFAB— He/They/She — Pansexual
    16 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Mentored by X
    Windclan — Moor-runner (Loyalist)





    COMBAT:
    Physically hard | mentally hard
    Attack in bold black

    injuries: None currently
    Currently 1 moon pregnant!
 
cw: brief description of gore / hummingbird's death in the dialogue at the beginning of the second paragraph

With blood on his tongue and strewn across his shoulders, Thornrunner is the next to greet Cottonpaw with a brutal truth: "You have a lot of work to do." Each injury reminded him of his begrudging respect for many of the warriors that had left. Even if he smelled the dissent on some of them moons ago (he swears he had), they were capable cats. And that was a loss. But in the end of things, Ebonylight was not wrong. WindClan would do better without them. Whatever happened, this clan would survive it. These cats would survive it! They look upon Cottonpaw with wariness, but Thornrunner meets her with defiance. Who needed StarClan's blessed healer? If she turned from them, they would still limp ever onward.

"Really ripped up her throat, too. It's a mess. Will make for an...unfortunate vigil." Though he speaks of the gore idly, his face scrunches up some on unfortunate. That was certainly a politer word for it than disaster. Disgusting. Horrific. The brutality of it certainly was efficient, though. Harrierstripe had left Smokestar alive– Wolfsong had most certainly ensured that this one would not rise again.
EpC61GT.png

  • OOC.
  • THORNRUNNER. HE - HIM - HIS. YOUNG MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. SOOTSTAR LOYALIST. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ——————————————
    ——  a densely-furred yet sleek chocolate tabby with high white and several scars hidden within his fur. he carries himself with cocky confidence and a sharp cunning in icy blue eyes.
  • "speech"
 

Dustwhisker doesn't have anyone to wait around for like Bluefrost does - no trove of siblings to fear tangled in displaced belief, no uncertain acquaintances left unseen in the battle. Just himself - just his own beliefs to worry about, of which he finds little concern for, in the grand scheme of things. Sootstar is his leader, Sunstride is a traitor; those who left with him, who fell for his defense, are traitors too.

Still, it surprises him to see a return in the aftermath: Cottonpaw's patrol, unaware of the vacant battlefield they step foot on, of the bloodshed, of those they'll have to bury. Had they been given early warning - heard of Sunstride's trechery through the breeze, the screeches of war - would they have turned away? Dustwhisker wonders, if only for a moment. They'll find out soon, whether the medicine apprentice and her patrol's loyalties lay, anyway.

"Welcome back," Dustwhisker greets the patrol with cooling tones, a torn ear twitching. The rush of adrenaline from the battle now wanes as his opponent had, the tom's awareness of the stinging wound atop his head - the drying blood of another at his paws, his muzzle - heightened.

He listens as their clanmates list off their dead - a pang of sadness hits the tunneler at Hummingbirdheart and Lynxtooth's names - as they omit Dustwhisker's kill from the pair. It's for the best, the traitor doesn't deserve the vigil his true clanmates deserve.

"Least it'll be quieter around here," he offers, looking around at the diminished clan. Perhaps this is all for the better, in more ways then one: less chances of betrayal, less faces to worry about, less cats to feed...
 
She's approached by several more fortunate souls - a friend, her sister, three warriors. Each are marred and fatigued, each reveling in their own personal hells of betrayal and paranoia. And in turn, they play off of each other. First, its that Wolfsong left (Sunstride betrayed them, like the deputy before him, and the dozens of traitors before them,) and then its that Wolfsong killed someone before he went. Violently, and her gaze floats sidewards to the chilled, snow dusted body of Hummingbirdheart. And then its the grace of silence.

Cottonpaw deftly stares, shock. Blue eyes flick up towards her sister, and the other's curious scrutiny digs into her skin. "I... I'm..." she's not sure what to even say. Speechless, truly, and she's unsure what to do with herself. If Wolfsong's gone, then that means that she - Stars, is she even capable of wrapping a scratch? Should she mourn the loss of her mentor - of many cats, even if their blood is still warm and pumping - when they're supposedly traitors and were chased out?

Her mouth is dry, and she inclines her gaze away from Bluefrost. A shake of her head, "Yeah... yeah, I guess I do," she breathes out finally, in reference to Thornrunner's initial statement. Her gaze trails over the dead again, and she notes how one of the three bodies were not mentioned - how the many before her ignore one to mourn. She swallows and decides not to ask.

"Whitepaw -" her friend, hopefully her confidant, at least until she can feel her paws again, "help me carry this stuff to Wolf- my den?" Wrong... that's wrong. "I'll be with you each once I can get myself sorted. And..." her gaze doesn't find the dead once again. She figures that she'll have plenty of time with them soon enough. "Their vigil. I'll... try to get to that soon, too."
 
Nightingalecry is far more composed than the medicine cat apprentice. Whilst the youth fumbles with her words and the new dire situation they are each in, the moor runner masks her disgust and fear. She pulls from the patrol and finds her way to her mate, swallowing thickly as she does. Prying eyes would certainly see how unease has made home in her skin, but she's quick to link her tail with Ebonylight's. She breathes a sigh of relief, a quiet, "I'm glad you're okay," to the other.

If this is the state of her new home, she'll just have to live it. She won't be ruinous like her poor mother (the truth of her demise weighs heavily on their heart.) She'll sit in line with the rest of them.​
 
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❀༉˖° Peonypaw watched Cottonpaw's face change as realization set in. First about the Clan falling apart and into two separate pieces, and then the fact that she was the only medicine cat for WindClan. He couldn't have said he understood, but he could at least try to imagine himself in her stead, struggling to care for everyone when the much more experienced Wolfsong was absent. No guiding words. She'd have to rely on her instincts and see what happened - and that must have been terrifying.

His ear flicked at Thornrunner's comment. There was no need to throw the heaviness of the situation into her face like that.

"If you need help, let me know," Peonypaw offered. "I might not know how to treat wounds or sickness, but I can help you organize your stocks... or gather something."
°
 

-ˋˏ ༻☽༺ ˎˊ- Juncopaw was relieved to see the return of Cottonpaw and the rest of her patrol. WindClan would not be without a medicine cat after all - the betrayal of Wolfsong would have spelled disaster for the wounded if Cottonpaw had left with him.

She approached the patrol with a dip of her head and a soft mumble of 'welcome back.' She had been strangely civil after the battle, though it wouldn't be expected to last long - worn out and distraught over so many, she knows better than to start more fights amongst her Clanmates at this time, especially with Sootstar on edge. So, instead, she'd channel her energy into trying to form alliances; for now.

"I'll help as well - if.. if you need extra paws." She offered towards Cottonpaw. Perhaps Juncopaw felt safer amongst the loyalists knowing that any traitors hiding in their ranks have been dispelled, not as scared to let her usual guard of aggression down. "Do you think Sootstar will give you a full name now that Wolfsong is gone?" Curiosity drove her to blurt it out; despite her attempt at niceness, the question was asked without care for the other apprentice's relationship with their mentor. If it came off as insensitive, she didn't notice.



  • JUNCOPAW she/her, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, seven moons.
    an antagonistic silver tabby she-cat with green eyes.
    mate to no one. daughter to former gin rogues. apprentice of mocking-grin.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by ixora@.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
The world around him is so bleak. It is as if a wildfire has torn through the moors, leaving nothing but floating ash and haze in its wake, though all that remains of the battle is a destroyed camp and pools of blood. Limp bodies of clanmates are littered across the ground as well; Snakehiss does not dare look upon them, his stomach teetering on the verge of vomiting from the stench in the air.

The tattered and bruised moor runner weakly lifts his head to see a familiar blue smoke stumbling upon the aftermath. Had Cottonpaw been away for the entirety of the fight? "Cottonpaw..." Snakehiss breathes, getting to his paws and padding over as others go to greet her as well. They're all gone. My father is gone. He wants to whimper, to confide, but he cannot risk losing his composure ( which was already so fragile as it was ).

"Thank-" He can't even thank StarClan for his betrothed's safe return. Doing so would be a death wish, surely. "Thank goodness." His voice quivers against his will. He aims to press into her, drawing his muzzle from her cheek down to behind her neck in an oddly tender embrace. Snakehiss had never been overly keen on publicly showcasing his "affections" before, aside from the occasional bump of muzzles or caress of his paw, but this time was different.

He can't even fully register the words being said around him, including Juncopaw's inquiry about Cottonpaw's full medicine cat name ( which would mean them officially becoming mates ). No, everything is still a blur, not quite real in his mind yet. All he knew was that Cottonpaw had returned to camp unharmed.

She was all he had left now.

  • gJTx1fs.png
    SNAKEHISS
    —— he/him; deputy of windclan
    —— bisexual; single; not looking
    —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles
 
♢​ THE BEST MISTAKE YOU EVER MADE ♢​

marmotbite & 12 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler

Whatever marmotbite is expecting when she returns from her first patrol since becoming a warrior - well, it certainly wasn't this. Though she remains blank-faced as she takes in her clanmates words, she can feel unease coiling about her belly - pelt twitching anxiously. Sootstar is strong, she knows - and its only natural for the strong to prey upon the weak. Survival of the fittest and all that. And yet... mismatched eyes search for a figure she already knows she won't find - azaleafrost's roots are no secret within the clan after all. And indeed she no longer see's her - her blue-one has left. Eyes shut for a moment, and she hardens her heart - this power struggle is not her's to fight. In the end, she simply turns and continues on back to her nest - pretending everything is okay, that nothing has changed.

  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: in & out
    tw/cw: —
  • a shockingly tiny she-cat with pale blue and cream ticked tabby fur, save for a single patch covering her right eye that is brown instead, and mismatched green-orange eyes. she has heavy scarring along the entirety of her left side, from her face all the way down her chest, belly, and flank; which has been there since kithood. she is a twitchy little thing, known for her bad attitude and an unfortunate habit of biting when startled.

    physically medium && mentally medium
    non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    please attack using [b][color=#9ab973]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 
Everything had been normal when they had first left and yet, chaos had descended in the sparse hours they were gone. Whitepaw lingered at Cottonpaw's side, wide rose hues taking in the destruction that remained of camp, barely listening as everything was explained. Her gaze briefly focused on Bluefrost, to Peonypaw, and proceeded to search the remnant clan members. Who had left, truly? Blinking and focusing in time to see Snakehiss press into Cottonpaw, she glanced away again before hearing Cottonpaw's words. "Of course." The girl quietly murmured, picking up the fallen herbs and taking them to the herbal-scented tunnel.

// this is so late but in & out
[I'M BREATHING]