private LIKE A PASSENGER IN MY HEAD, HEADING FOR DEMISE [ ☼ ] SKIRMISH

[BURNSTORM]

He’d given his apprentices the day off today. One look at their tired eyes and heavy limbs this morning had been all it took. " Make yourselves useful if you feel bored but take it easy today. You two have earned some rest" he had said before leaving. Stars knew the youth of their clan needed a break. The season ahead would be hard. He had seen enough leaf-bares now to know. But just because his apprentices were taking the day off did not mean that he had to as well. His paws lead him through an all too familiar territory. With flawless ease he weaves through the undergrowth, sure footed paws moving of their own accord.

He didn’t come out here with the purpose of doing, well, anything really. But in his head is a pounding anger, a voice in the back of his skull saying your fault, your fault it was his fault Morningpaw had died, he should have protected her better that day, it was his fault Skyclaw had turned out the way he had, he should have been a better older brother, guided him to a different path. Regrets and if-onlys race so furiously through his mind that he nearly missed the squirrel that appears almost right in front of him.

He’s lucky, he thinks as he settles down into the familiar hunters crouch, his thick black fur and the wind had acted in his favor. His prey had no idea he was coming. Golden colored eyes hone hungrily on the creature as it digs with tiny paws at the ground. Most likely burying a cache for winter. One it would never uncover again, if he was lucky. The distraction of a hunt is a welcome one, one he’s a little too eager for. He moves a little too quickly, his pelt catching on a bush. The snap of a twig is all it takes. The squirrel is bolting in an instant and a swear flies from the warrior mouth as he gives chase, determined not to let his prey get away from him.

It ducks out of sight, bushy tail disappearing into a shrub on the other side of an invisible line. Another curse almost covers the sound of it squealing. Almost. "I know you’re there" he calls to the SkyClanner across the way, his voice impatient, his tail swinging wildly behind him. All this clan knew how to do was take it seemed. "That squirrel belongs to ThunderClan" he says, lips pulling back in a snarl "Hand it over. Now."

// @CHRYSALISWING

( ☼ ) Darling, I'd go through it again

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  BURNSTORM THUNDERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; HE / HIM ; BROTHER TO MORNINGPAW, MOONWHISPER, HOWLFIRE, FIREFLYGLOW, SKYCLAW & DUSKBIRD ; MATE TO ROEFLAME ; FATHER TO DOVEPAW, BEETLEPAW, AND LITTLEPAW
  

  A large, sharp tongued, tom with long black fur and golden, oval shaped, eyes.

  ✦ Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + fights honorably
  ✦ Mentoring Beetlepaw and Coalpaw
  

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[CHRYSALISWING]

Chrysaliswing had been starving for what seemed like eternity, as grief seeped anger and then, into his very fibers. Even when his teeth gnashed against tough sinew and metallic blood, even when he could feel globs of prey roll down his tight throat, he still starved. It mellowed him as a ringing sort of sensation, one that wove through even his bones and his flesh. So, he set out in search of more food. The chimaeric tomcat wandered through Skyclan's territory, like choler had rendered him naught but a hollow shell, fumed into sweat and blood and all those unsightly humors. The longhaired feline hardly thought of the direction of his footfall, nor of the destination of his journey, a beast wandering aimless but never lost within its homeland. Whiskers twitched as his keen nose searched for a trail to follow, some sort of fleeting purpose to seize with honed claws. Hunting had always been his release, for there was little bile to spit at a hard-earned meal, nor at the prey animal who bristled with fear at its last wake of breath. It was a noble job done by even the most ignoble of creatures. Winter would make it much harder for him as well, so he figured that he might as well take advantage of the momentary season that preceded it with grace. It was his luck now that presented him with a squirrel, as if it were lint floating straight upon his palms, a mere lilt in motion before instincts to kill kicked in. Without thinking, he already had the prey animal by the nape of its neck, with pearline ivories rupturing a paper-fragile windpipe.

An unfamiliar voice sounded beyond the shrub where he found himself, like a temper undue from once-serene surroundings, borne of bitter fruit that he hadn't realized he disturbed. Slowly did the tomcat stand up to face a burnt-black cat, of smoldering embers for a consternation-laden gaze. The stench of the oaks rustled through his nostrils, and he huffed as he caught upon it. Heterochromatic glare focused upon Burnstorm, and the hearth of his eyes only burned with more ire as the Thunderclan warrior spoke, with such indignation and entitlement that could only elicit a curling scowl from Chrysaliswing. What right did Burnstorm have to tell him what to do? Even if he were astray upon Burnstorm's land, his arrogance would never allow him to submit to orders from outside of his narrow judgment. "No." The flame-and-sable cat growled, as if his fury only festered within the folds and wrinkles of himself, rankling wound to an already-heaving pride. "I caught this squirrel on Skyclan territory. Get lost, or I'll make you." The words spilled from his maw not with his usual wittiness, but still held its acerbic flavor like he spat out each syllable. Hackles rose and back arched as he watched for Burnstorm's next move, his stance a warning and a last chance before he would strike.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• OOC: VERY SORRY ABOUT THE LATE REPLY!
  
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  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 29 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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