sensitive topics MY BABY'S GOT A GUN ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ DISCOVERY

[BEEFANG]

ᨒ I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS THE MOONLIT SEA, THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME ᨒ​

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ — / ooc: mentions of mild gore & blood (a note: she thinks she sees her fathers but girlie's hallucinating from bloodloss)

She remembers the sickening thump when she hit the ground and how the rogue had jumped her like a hungry wolf how it had torn at her face and chest with its jaws. The gnashing of teeth makes her stomach tighten, a wave of nausea passes over her, and she manages to swallow down the bile though her only non-tattered ear presses flat against her skull when she watches Kindling's stray flee like a coward due to the approaching voices but Beefang can still feel her ears ringing, her head spinning, and her eyes closed. Her body aches horribly, the side of her face burning with pain, and her head continues to lay on the ground as a few ragged breaths slip from her jaws. Is she dying? Beefang isn't certain and normally most cats would be afraid of such a thing but the smoke moggy finds herself seething and angry that the rogue had fled with his life, she can still remember the cackle that had slipped from his throat. "I'll f-find you..." The shaky whisper slips from her maw as her claws dig into the ground as if he could hear her despite having fled the scene, "A-and when I d-do... I'll r-rip... and r-rip... and r-riiiiiiiiip you to pieces..." A promise.

She opens her eyes or at least, she had attempted to do so and it sets in that her eye is gone. Another wave of nausea courses through her body as she recalls gnashing jaws but she holds strong once more as her claws dig further into the ground and scrapes it in her direction, the bicolored molly feels her sides rising and falling with her head feeling so light. Beefang closes her single eye as if it would help ease everything yet she still feels disoriented and angry, she tries to hold herself together but she glances up noticing a dark figure in front of her. Her pupil growing to the size of the moon as she believes to be staring at her parent that had left her moons ago and shakes her head "N-no... I won't die... I can't die." The thought of Moonbeam waiting for her in their nest and the new warrior ascending to Starclan so soon after the gathering, she shakes her head again as if willing away the spirit so that it wouldn't guide her to Starclan "NO! I WON'T GO WITH YOU!" The hoarse screech being ripped out from her throat as her entire body and pelt bristles.

It seems to work since he's gone as she's left laying there bleeding out, Beefang tries to stand but collapses the first few times until she begins to drag herself through the reeds and left a streak of crimson behind her. She refuses to die and she absolutely does not want to die to some mangy rogue that had been trespassing, she had nearly forgotten the frail bird but she clamps her jaws around it the best she could. Her seethijg anger and spite seem to be what's pushing her onwards in her attempt to go to camp but the sound of approaching pawsteps makes the warrior spit out the bird to the side. Her claws still unsheathed, lips drawn back to show off her teeth, and a loud snarl leaves her parted jaws... She's prepared to fight whoever would come at her, she needed to see Moonbeam... She had promised. The own strong stench of her own blood clogging up her senses as she hisses and her feather tail slaps the ground, Beefang pushes at her paws and forces herself to stand. Those who would find her would find Beefang, a bloodied mess, and barely able to stand her ground.

/ please wait for either @CICADAFLIGHT or @Cricketchirp to post first and it'll be open to everyone else :]

⡠﹞BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ BEWARE OF ME﹝⠢

• 

  WARRIOR SKILLSET;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ HUNTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ TRACKING
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ COMBAT
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ STEALTH
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧ STRATEGY
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ SWIMMING
  — ✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ CLIMBING
• 
  ✦ a shorthaired black smoke molly w/low white and mismatched eyes
  ✦ oftentimes comes off as untrusting of those around her, closed off, and not the easiest to engage in conversation with, she's not easy to befriend. all her opinions are IC only.
  ✦ 12 moons old; ages the 10th every month
  ✦ asexual homoromantic; mated to moonbeam
  ✦ currently mentoring...n/a
  ✦ firstborn daughter of cicadastar and smokestar
  ✦ sister of cicadaflight and cricketchirp
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

His sister and Moonbeam had dressed him down accordingly for "working too much" and told him he needed to "take more breaks", and while Cicadaflight's love for Beefang was without question, he felt a little compelled to doubt the . . . urgency with which they'd communicated this. It was just work, after all, it could hardly kill you—so he was back out, today accompanied by Cricketchirp, luxuriating in a relaxed greenleaf patrol and the soothingly real presence of his sibling at his side. Even when the phantoms ( or rather, one phantom ) that had stalked his dreams—and, so terrifyingly, wormed into his real life—were long dissipated by the well - galvanized cage of his mind, the present of Cricketchirp, the realness of their flesh, was comforting.

The stink of copper is familiar and his well - trained nose twitches in an instant ( did muzzle size correlate to tracking skill? if so, he was well prepared ); he eyes his sibling silently and then heads for the source of the smell, elegant head bent low and nose nearly to the ground like a bloodhound. He's thinking along the lines of: oh, maybe it's our lucky day for prey or hopefully one of SkyClan's handouts hasn't found its way over here or StarClan, please don't let it be a fox.

It doesn't matter. No assumption could have prepared him for what he sees.

" Beefang? " he manages in the raspiest of whispers. That's not a piece of fresh - kill, or a lost kittypet, or a fox . . . that's his sister, snarling and shaking on her sturdy paws, gore dripping down the side of her face. There's a horrible pit of red and raw meat where the blue eye they share usually lives, the rent clawmarks only left by a cat, the trail of scarlet snaking in the direction of the border.

In all his adolescent rages, he had never quite understood cats who said they saw red.

He does now.

" Starlight— " He pays little mind to which name slips off his tongue. The world is poppy blossoms and greenleaf sunsets, smeared bloody around the edges, as raw and red as the hole in his sister's face. Cicadaflight can taste copper, and he doesn't realize until the adrenaline wears off—much later, back in camp—that it's his own blood and there's a bite mark inside his cheek. He doesn't know who did this—how could he?—but he's certain if they were before him now the red spattering his vision wouldn't only be imagination.

" Cricketchirp— " he corrects hard, syllables bitten off between gapped incisors, swallowing hard to try and dissipate the red - flecked spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth. " Cricketchirp, go find—a patrol—send one of them to camp—or something, " the warrior snaps out, still unmoving, staring down his snarling sister, " Just—go! I'll watch her and—make sure—whoever did this doesn't come back. "

The words are halting, snapping, interspersed by hard clicks of teeth as he advances towards Beefang, crooked tail swinging slowly, eelish, side to side behind him. She's hissing, snarling, and he has to wonder if she might not leap forward and bury her fangs in his throat—and what would he do then? He can feel every limb shuddering red, barely contained, as he manages in a flat rasp, " Beefang? It's—Cicadaflight. "

" speech "

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[pebbletail]

(☼) after last night's gathering, pebblepaw has been on edge. he'd not slept well, tossing and turning until his nest neighbor had hissed in their sleep, and he feels that exhaustion now. mixed with anxiety, there's a cocktail of battling energies inside of him that does not lend well to a patrol. he follows foxtail dutifully, nervous ember eyes flicking this way and that. windclan is the enemy again, as is commonplace, he thinks, and he knows thunderclan are not pleased with them either. the gathering has been slotted firmly into one of the worst nights of his life, seconded only by nights where he's suffered loss. as the patrol snakes around a clump of reeds, following the flow of the river, a coppery smell floats up, meeting the boy's nose and stopping him in his tracks.

he's already assuming the worst, fear dashing through him to mingle with the anxiety and exhaustion. "foxtail," he snaps, then flattens his ears in apology as his mentor turns. "there's-" through the reeds, there is movement, two forms approaching the scent. he recognizes his cousins, and he tenses as he hears cicadaflight's voice snap. abandoning all semblance of following rules, pebblepaw pushes through the undergrowth, fixed on the scent and the trail of drying blood he now finds, crossing the reeds in front of him. stumbling out into a clearing, he finds cicadaflight and cricketchirp, face to face with a horrifying sight.

crimson... scarlet... blood coats the smoke and snow pelt of beefang. she stands trembling and snarling amidst her own gore, hisses pouring from clenched teeth. where one river blue eye once was is now a gaping hole. pebblepaw feels his stomach turn, feels anger and upset and confusion joining the battle in his chest. "beefang," he whispers, stock still behind cicadaflight. who had done this? who could do this? (she looks like smokestar, looks like what he must've looked like after he'd lost his own eye.)

I DO NOT HAVE WINGS, LOVE ☼ I NEVER WILL

• // younger cousin is here to be horrified :D mentor tag @FOXTAIL " #848DAE"
• 
  
  
• 
  PEBBLEPAW ☼ HE / HIM, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORED BY FOXTAIL. 7 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a large blue tabby with low white and vitiligo. pale blue fur covers the length of pebblepaw's stocky body, sliced through with darker tabby stripes and spots. baleful orange eyes peer out of heavy set sockets, and his muzzle, paws, and tail tip are dashed with white.

​

 

[claythorn]

Claythorn was with Foxtail's patrol. She had been let back onto duty, carefully warned about hitting her head again, and set free to work. Bluepool's death weighed upon her, just as Ferngill's expression only made the death sharper, more clear. It needed to be done, she realized, only faint glimpses of fangs spelling out just why Bluepool's death was necessary. Perhaps her mind was elsewhere, but Pebblepaw's quick word and dash off had her stopping.

Mismatched golden eyes snapped towards Foxtail, then back towards Pebblepaw, heading after him. Many words jumbled in her brain as she broke through the undergrowth. Otterbite's shouting at her, her life, how precious it was. Beefang's shout at her in the medicine den right after Moonbeam was captured, demanding she make right, but stay alive- breaking through the undergrowth gave a flash of sunlight, and she drew to a stop near Pebblepaw.

Beefang, standing, wobbling, a bird in her blooded jaws, her eye missing, ear torn. Cicadaflight, turning and demanding his sister to go get help. "Pebblepaw. Wait for Foxtail." She rumbled, her fur standing on end. Vision lifted towards Cricketchirp and Cicadaflight. "Stay here. I'll go to camp." She shouted to the siblings, and then she was turning on her paw.

There was no more room for thoughts, for words. Every inch of her energy was pressed into running back to camp, through reeds and across smaller streams. Why does it keep ending up like this? She briefly thought as she broke past the guards of camp, turning her head this way and that before- "Moonbeam! Beefang's been attacked." She called to the white pelted medicine cat. And if she left camp with her, Claythorn stayed right beside the medicine cat until they returned to where Beefang was still fighting to live.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  // @Moonbeam
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, fourteen moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ padding after otterbite / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Moonbeam]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. She had believed she had no reason to worry about Beefang. She'd been able to hold her own so many times through her life, through invasions on camp, losing both her fathers, losing her home and fighting for it once more she'd bounced back every time. If an injury were to happen it was minimal - a nick here, a claw there - nothing life threatening, so she'd lived in ignorance and bliss, riding the high of now sharing a nest with her best friend forever, the promises they had shared with each other echoing in her mind daily. She would not leave Beesong in this life and Beesong would not leave her. Claythorn rushing through camp and catching the attention of the medicine cat crushed the high, crushed the ignorance.

It seemed to happen in slow motion, eyes looking to the warrior before words left her maw and Moonbeam felt her heart jump to her throat, heard the way it beat loud and quick within her ears before she blinked and she was gathering herbs, anything she could carry, wrapping cobwebs around arms and rushing from the camp. She rushed alongside Claythorn, not caring about where they were going simply that they got there. She didn't notice the way reeds began to thin as they neared the border to the unclaimed territories, simply noticed the bloodied form of her mate as the intense smell of blood and gore reached her nostrils through herbs she'd bundled and carried with her. She knew then that they would not be enough to fully heal her, but that would be ok as she just wanted enough to get her back to camp, get her back to their nest so that she could be re-wrapped and sleep within feather-lined moss.

"Beefang," She'd mew around the bundle as she approached, not caring if she was swiped at in the confusion though praying that she wasn't. When she was close enough she'd press against the other comfortingly at the same time as herbs were laid down so she could work, adrenaline fueling her so that she wouldn't break at the sight, so the thumping within her ears wouldn't deafen her enough to not be useful. "Chew these," Soft voice would instruct as dandelion was pushed forward, marigold carefully used to put upon the parts of her face that needed it the most before she used all the cobwebs she could to keep things in place, to keep her from bleeding out completely on the way home.

She would press against the other once more, head resting near her uninjured side just long enough to speak soft words to her - "Come my flower, let's go home." - before she'd pull away to look towards Cicadaflight and Cricketchirp, tail swishing behind her before she'd instruct in that moment, usual soft demeanor splintering and growing harder in that moment, for as much as she loved the two - they'd grown together after all - in that moment though she cared deeply for them they were not in trouble, they were not her mate bleeding out. Still it was those two picked to be instructed for she knew otherwise they'd be begging for help for they too love Beefang in a way Moonbeam could never, as sibling, as sister to complete the trio. "One of you on each side, let's get her home." Her voice left no room for confusion, no room for fighting for anyone. She was no lead warrior, she was no deputy or leader but she was now in charge here and Moonbeam knew that, the others would soon know that if they didn't already as well.

"Someone rush ahead, I don't want anyone in my way when we get back to camp." Get cats out of the way, warn them if they must but make sure no one was in her way to cause injuries to go untreated for any longer than they needed to. Once she was sure she'd be able to walk alongside cats they'd begin to do so, paws moving at the quickest pace Beefang could move without issue so that blood didn't rush more than it needed. If they had to she knew that Beefang would be carried, whatever the quickest way to get her home safely she'd allow.

LET THE VALLEYS AWAKE ꕥ LET THEM RATTLE AND SHAKE

• --
• ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ flesh wounds
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ infections
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ aches & pains
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ illness
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ breathing
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ traveling
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ broken bones
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ kitting
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ poisons
• ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ 13 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently mentoring none
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics

​