MY HEAD IS BLOODY, BUT UNBOWED ✿ bird attack

[DOEBLAZE]

✿ | minor tw: blood, injury, bird attacks, and choking/asphyxiation
after the painful effort of her and her clanmates coaxing cat after reluctant cat up the icy cliff, they had finally, blessedly made it into the mountains proper. lungwort feels so close she can nearly taste bitter herb in her mouth, but that is not their only goal—after all, they all need to stay strong and healthy-ish and alive if they must complete this journey. so when they'd begun to slow down for the time being, she'd set herself to the task of gathering a small group up to try and glean some prey from the harsh snowy world around them. her patrolmates are surely somewhere nearby, and the rest of their journeying group only a bit further, but she cannot see any of them.

some way or another, she'd ventured a little ways from her group in pursuit of the tempting scent of prey—but it's nothing to worry about. her own smell must stand out clear as day against the cold, clean odors of mountain air and snow and occasional pine, after all. as she draws closer to a jutting outcropping of rock, similar to the cliff they'd scrambled up, the rich scent of prey swells ever larger and bobbie softens her pawsteps further. a glimpse reveals the strangely stark silhouette of a dusty-furred rabbit, of all things, but the sight is welcome nonetheless. this will surely feed more than a single journeymate and the warrior is as careful as she's able, drawing slowly closer to the piece of fresh-kill.

when it startles and scampers away, she hisses and curses herself, wondering how her silent pawsteps had alerted the damned thing to her presence. good prey, lost just like that! a dark shape on the snowy ground catches her attention. she pauses, trying to parse out what it is, and her green eyes widen with fearful shock as she realizes just a moment too late—it's the shadow of a bird. a huge bird, if the size of its cast shadow was anything to judge by.

later, she will realize that the bird must have been as starved as their little group; later, she will realize that it, too, was searching for sustenance—and when it couldn't have the rabbit, it went for the next best thing.

but in the moment, all she can feel is the sensation of talons digging into her neck, her shoulders, even as she begins to scamper away. falconpaw's attack flashes behind her eyes momentarily until all she can focus on is her breath, because it's draining away like melting snow. her mouth flexes frantically, but her hard-won air stops at her teeth, her breath choked away in her throat; something pulls taut around her neck, pinning her airway shut, rendering every gasp pointless.

her collar. the red band that has defined her identity to many of her journeymates is wrapping around the soft flesh of her throat like a death sentence; the eagle, she realizes that's what it is, has hold of not only the skin of her neck but also the artificial flesh of her collar. the starving bird is trying fruitlessly to pull her up—only it's not so fruitless, because she's not a large cat by any means, and for all her clawing her pawpads are beginning to separate themselves from the frosty ground. even as the world begins to swim, bobbie flails and slashes blind, fighting tooth and claw to free herself from the raptor's grip with haphazard strikes at its feathery body above her.

RRRIP!

she's on the ground again, collapsed in a pile of limbs as she gasps for sweet, sweet air, air that is suddenly available to her. the world clears once more and suddenly she's aware of the blood running hot down her back and shoulders, the stinging against her spine, but mostly she's focused on one thing. it's gone. her collar—it's gone! one paw scrabbles at the suddenly freed mane around her throat, but she does not feel the familiar shape and she casts her gaze upwards, against the fear pressing bitter against the back of her throat.

the eagle, huge and shadowy, spins above—and she watches helpless as her collar, ripped by its talons, is released inedible. one of the last pieces of her kithood, her curse in these clans, goes falling over the cliff's edge before her eyes, into unseen sights below. but the eagle is not satisfied; even from here she can see it is thin, desperate and wracked with hunger, unwilling to surrender even a tenacious catch. it dives once more, wings a death's line against the sky, and she finds her paws again, skittering frantically away and trailing blood in the snow.

its talons just miss the stone as it swoops high once more, cruel yellow eyes glittering far above as it turns and glides above her, no doubt sizing up its next strike. bobbie glances frantically around her, cursing how easily she'd split from her patrol, praying that someone will show up. one eye on the beast, she yowls with all her might, "HELP! HELP!" praying someone will hear her, she remains on her shaking paws, darting further back from the cliff's edge, though the raptor seems intent on tracking her with those malevolent golden eyes. as she backs away with her widened eyes on the bird, bobbie murmurs, "starclan, help me."

ooc ✿ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅

• ooc: tl;dr - bobbie has been attacked by a hungry/desperate eagle; her collar has been ripped off and she has sustained some relatively minor neck injuries as a result!
  set post-cliff; the bird can be powerplayed and should leave in a few posts, once more cats arrive :-)
  

• 

• 

  ( BOBBIE ) ✿ WARRIOR OF SKYCLAN.
  x she / her ; 40 moons.
  x mother to lupinepaw, crowpaw, & drowsypaw.
  x a small, pretty lilac tabby & white cat with a fluffy mane & sage-green eyes ; sweet, sociable, and somewhat naive to certain aspects of clan life.
  x currently in an era of self-assessment and trying to figure out exactly who she wants to be.

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Scorchpaw does not think highly of kittypets. Really, she finds them detestable; while Scorchstreak may harbor some amount of respect for kittypet-born Clan cats, her daughter does not– and Bobbie has not been spared from her judgmental gaze. Really, she can't imagine why the maned molly would think it's a good idea to wear her collar in general, let alone up into the mountains. It's a target on her back; a toreador's capote; a bright red indicator of her otherness that Scorchpaw finds impossible to ignore. It's so hard to ignore that, when she sees it flutter by down the mountain, she can tell there is something wrong.

Immediately the young girl is torn. That kittypet is just getting what she deserves for parading around playing warrior. She flinches at the immediate thought; how could she be so cruel? Bobbie had proven some skill in climbing, both on the mountainside and at the large tree, though Scorchpaw only begrudgingly gives her the credit. WindClan shouldn't be concerned with a SkyClanner's life. But she is concerned for Cherrypaw, isn't she? And if she were to ignore Bobbie's yowling for help, what would Cherrypaw think? Why should I help SkyClan when they harbor WindClan's traitors? This thought turns her tongue sour.

But snow-dipped paws tear through the snow-capped landscaped towards the cry. She sets her fierce bi-colored gaze on the eagle, runs towards it and leaps. Her claws find purchase on its feathered back, and it lets out a cry as it circles back into the sky, out of her reach. Scorchpaw lands on her paws. Her heart pumps. She thinks of Luckypaw facing the badger, the stories he'd told her; now it's her turn to be brave. And I'm wasting it on a SkyClanner. Out of the corner of her eye, she shouts at Bobbie, "What were you thinking?!" What were you thinking leaving your cushioned life? What were you thinking keeping that stupid accessory on you? What were you thinking when you volunteered, as if you were as much of a warrior as I will be?

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐈 𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐆𝐄 ✧ 𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙇𝙊𝙊𝘿

• 

• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw
  — she/they ; apprentice of windclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — chibi by giinya, signature by raphaelion
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[Mouseflight]

Hawks were common enough in WindClan that he had heard stories from the moor-runners and the tunnelers unlucky enough to come across them, but he had never seen an eagle before, had never even thought about them being something to worry about, the only stories he'd been told about them having been from those not born in the current territories. It didn't mean they weren't around, just not around enough for Mouse to have heard of them or thought about them being a threat. But they weren't home now, and they were in an area where it was more dangerous to be injured since there were no herb stores or medicine dens to go to and heal and rest. They had to keep moving and couldn't afford an injured cat.

It's why Mouseflight had similar thoughts to Scorchpaw when he realized what was happening, that Bobbie shouldn't have had that collar around her neck as maybe - just maybe - the eagle would have missed her had she not worn that thing out into the mountains. Running forward, the WindClanner streaked past his clanmate and attempted to move Bobbie back towards the patrol, back to where others would be able to help before he turned around towards Scorchpaw, head up as he tracked the eagle and watched, waiting to see if it would try to attack again. If it did swoop down he would dart away and try to confuse the bird.

⋆｡°✩ threw my voice into the dark

•  
• 
  ⋆ mousekit - mousepaw - mouseflight
  ⋆ ftm - he/him - 11 moons
  ⋆ bisexual - open to relationship
  ⋆ tunneler of windclan
  ⋆ attack - speech - thought
  ⋆ penned by tikki

​

​

 

[FERNGILL]

It was a horrible noise, a flurry of feathers- Fernpaw's attention was snagged even before Bobbie had screeched out for help. Where hawks were uncommon in WindClan, they were impossible in RiverClan- they didn't venture there. Whether it was the wet-land scent (if birds had noses to scent with) or simply some other unappealing aura to them... Fernpaw didn't particularly care. He would have been glad to live his life never having laid eyes upon a bird like that, tailings as sharp as fangs. A verdant eye shot wide in horror.

It took all of his self control not to cry out Bobbie's name- that'd be stupid, wouldn't it, with a bird like that circling around. Harsh-voiced, two Windclanners came to her aid- Scorchpaw, snagging the eagle as it rose, and Mouseflight, determined to drive it off. They were better equipped to deal with it- Fernpaw was determined to meet Bobbie's flank as Mouseflight ferried her toward the rest of the patrol. Dropping into a crouch, he called lowly to anyone else, "Take cover!"

His sights moved to Bobbie beside him, then. "You're hurt, you- how hurt are you?" His tone stumbled in a childish manner as he spluttered to gather his words up. With the claret blooming on her back, it was easy to notice the absence of something else red. Her collar, the scarlet streak across her throat, was gone. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

┌─────────────────── ☽【❖】☾ ───────────────────┐​

Even after a normal, uneventful day of simply placing one paw in front of the other, walking endlessly on towards their goal, it's hard to ignore the hunger clawing in his belly; after something so strenuous as the climb had been, it's downright impossible, and it feels as though he might never be full, never be rested again. Still, Luckypaw had to put in some effort here to sate himself, wholly unwilling to starve when there's surely prey lurking about, and so, when Bobbie had announced her intentions, he'd followed, even if he weren't all that confident in his own skills. Though it's hard to miss the collar clinging to Bobbie's neck, it's become something of a familiar sight, and even though he'll never understand how she can stand to keep it around, it's clearly not going anywhere anytime soon, and this far into the journey, it feels pointless to nettle the SkyClanner about it; though a few glances are still afforded her way, more than anything he tries to ignore the thing, splitting off in search of a meal as quickly as possible. To say hunting out here has been hard is an understatement - more times than not he's come back to their temporary camp empty-pawed, having to either share with one of his gracious journeymates or go to bed with an empty belly, but this time he's determined not to fail, if only because he knows he could really use the meal after their most recent trial.

Frustratingly enough, though, his hunt doesn't seem to be going anywhere at all, the strange mountain scents only serving to confuse any trails he can find, and Luckypaw grits his teeth, tail only just held back from lashing out his annoyance; whether it's at himself, at the mountain creatures that seem so adept at evading him, or at the mountain itself, he can't say. Splitting through his frustration, however, is a shrill cry that seems to pierce right through him - yowls for help, desperation punctuating each clipped word, and the sound is unmistakably coming from Bobbie. What had happened, that she had so quickly encountered such danger? They were just supposed to be hunting, not even moving through some new peril - had she encountered something unsavory, up here? Had she fallen, maybe, slipped too close to the edge of some embankment and plummeted to her doom, final words a cry for help? No matter his distaste for her Twoleg accessory, he can only hope she hadn't suffered such a grim fate, heartbeat in his throat as he races back the way he'd come, certain he wouldn't make it in time to make any sort of difference if the danger hasn't already passed. Breaking free from around a rock, the sight that greets him is horrifying, each new realization making him want to turn tail and run back the way he'd come.

There's Bobbie, blood-streaked and collarless, cowering from the biggest bird he's ever seen, its talons practically big enough to spear a cat, and then there's - "SCORCHPAW!"

There's no consideration for the situation, no thought that the sound might attract undue attention - the scream is torn from him as he watches his littermate tear into the beast, standing up to it as though there's nothing else to do. Maybe for her, that's true; she'd always been the braver of the two, and if he hadn't resented her for it before, he surely does now, seeing how dangerously close she is to the eagle. Somebody needed to do something, of course - they wouldn't just leave Bobbie to be carried off, not after everything they'd been through - but selfishly, desperately, he wishes it hadn't been Scorchpaw who had flown to her rescue. Anybody but her. This scene feels too familiar, the fear for his sister too familiar, and for a moment it's not an eagle harrying her, but a flood of rocks, and just like before, he finds himself unable to help her - though, perhaps this is worse, because she's so close; she's right there, right in front of him, and yet he's frozen to the ground, nothing within him able to will himself intentionally closer to the beast. Mouseflight is there, he distantly recognizes, and he's helped Scorchpaw where Luckypaw is not, but he doesn't move a single claw until Fernpaw's call jolts him forwards, small body slinking for cover alongside his patrolmates. Up close, the stench of Bobbie's blood is cloying, and like Fernpaw, he finds himself at a loss; what could they do, without Magpiepaw here to help? "Are you-" he starts, but cuts himself off, unsure of what he'd been about to say; Fernpaw's asked the important question, after all. The only thing he can think to do is scrabble around for some moss, some way to slow the bleeding until things calm down enough to get her back to their makeshift camp.​

i'm falling into place, but still the timing's not right (☘) yeah that's a fire i just can't seem to light

• OOC: --​
• 
• 
  - Luckykit Luckypaw
  - He/him (AFAB)
  - 6 moons (Ages on the 1st)
  - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
  - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
  - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​