sensitive topics north wind - death

frostpaw

frostpaw

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Dec 9, 2022
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// !!! big tw for drowning !!!
greypool will not survive this thread even if the patrol is able to get her out of the ice quickly - however, feel free to have your character powerplay finding a thin spot to pull her out!


She's been a RiverClanner as long as she could remember, and Frostpaw for at least half that time. Apparently she and her siblings hadn't been born to RiverClan, but taken in back when prey was plentiful, raised among the reeds and streams. A new generation. And, as such, Frostpaw likes spending time by the river their Clan had been named for - just beside it, not so much in the current. Especially in weather like this, when it's so cold she thinks her pawpads might fall off and her breath mists pearlescent in the dawn-washed air. She's named for this weather, just like all her littermates are named for something indicative of the season-cycle-

Crack! Frostpaw looks up, green eyes narrowing. Where had Greypool gone? There's a distinct lack of her mentor up on the ridge. Maybe she'd be able to see from the same spot ... It takes a heartbeat when she crests the top of the outlook, but in the lightening morning Frostpaw sees a dark shape clawing at the underside of the ice. For a terrifying second she thinks it's a fox, or some twoleg monster, but her breath chokes in a gasp when she realises that the shape is Greypool. Frostpaw shudders all over. I didn't even know the ice was still that thin...

"Help! Greypool's stuck in the ice!" She wails, hoping to catch the attention of her Clanmates on the early patrol. The riverside blurs past Frostpaw as she skids down the slope, careful not to stand directly on the same place that Greypool had fallen in through. The current has started to tug her mentor downstream so Frostpaw follows, crossing onto the ice, claws scrabbling uselessly for a place to get the grey-furred she-cat free as she's tugged downstream in its sluggish current. Her mentor's struggling on the other side is slowing down ... but the clatter of pawsteps approaching gives her hope.​


✦ ooc ✦ info
  • n/a

  • ✦ frostpaw, apprentice of riverclan
    ✦ 6 moons, she/her
    ✦ silver tabby with green eyes and a notch in her left ear.
    ✦ lesbian, single. @ on discord for plots.
    ✦ "speech" — thoughts

​
 

➵ Clearsight's are the pawsteps that clatter forward, the call having caught him and @GILLPAW out hunting; he has fished these frozen waters for three winters before, and he seeks to teach the boy to survive leafbare every way he can, from land hunting (which Gill's done well at, and Clearsight could not be prouder) to fishing through the ice.

Frostpaw's wail had sent a chill rippling down his spine, the peaceful training session thoroughly interrupted. Stuck in the ice. Stars above, cats don't survive that—

Now he skids to a halt just before the ice begins, trusting that Gillpaw has followed behind him. Flaxen-gold eyes flick over the scene, taking it in and constructing a plan. Greypool in the water—Frostpaw on the ice, one slip away from the same fate. "Gillpaw," he commands, "get Frostpaw back to shore and keep her there. She's distraught, she'll want to help, but she needs to stay back."

Confidence bolstered by Gillpaw's performance in the border skirmish, Clearsight does not stop to check whether the apprentice will understand and obey. Instead he bursts right into action, leaping onto the ice and toward Greypool with practiced pawsteps. He knows that he's risking death. He knows that no amount of careful footwork guarantees a safe traversal, not when thin ice can look plenty thick and cracks spread much faster than a cat can leap.

But Greypool will die if he does nothing.

Clearsight grits his teeth and gets close as he dares to the edge, where Greypool's struggle has slowed considerably, paws scrabbling weakly at the air. His heart thumps in his chest; he has seen this stage before. She's dead, his mind supplies. She may be holding on but she's already a dead cat swimming.

Frostpaw's desperate howl echoes in his mind, and he snaps at Greypool's scruff anyway..He finds purchase, teeth digging in. Thank StarClan. Snow-tipped paws skid closer to the crumbling ice, muscles rippling beneath blue tabby fur as he clamps down harder, trying with all his might to drag the waterlogged warrior from her watery grave. Frosty cracks and splashes sound in his ears—his paws skid closer still, and he realizes too late that he's run out of leeway.

The ice beneath his paws gives way.

A sharp, hoarse scream escapes his throat before he's plunged fully underwater. He loses hold of Greypool, icy water filling his lungs and nose and throat. He can't see; he kicks upward—he hopes it's upward, anyway—

And breaks the surface, gasping, paws scrabbling just like Greypool's had at the cracking, crumbling ice. Shit. Shit.

Her form has disappeared now, likely lost to the waves forever (barring the intervention of some other well-timed first responder). A part of Clearsight is already preparing to meet the same fate, and it's pure luck that the river slams him against a rock just then—a grunt of pain is ripped out of his chest, but he does not waste the opportunity. Deft claws find purchase more easily in sturdy rock than crumbling ice, and he hauls himself out of the freezing water and into the freezing air, collapsing onto its surface.

You could still die, an inner voice helpfully reminds him.

Gritting his teeth, the warrior hauls himself upright. One last push, he tells himself. He catches sight of Frostpaw—stars, that poor girl. He won't let Gillpaw face that same grief. Not while it's in his paws, at least.

His frozen paws are graceless, and the fight for Greypool's body has taken much of his strength. He leaps, and half-makes it; not all the way to shore, but he's out of the water at least. His body collides with a patch of ice (good), but he feels it crack beneath him with the impact (bad). He freezes, unsure whether moving will send him right back under.

He's close enough to shore that someone should be able to drag him back in. But he's probably got about fifteen seconds before it gives way entirely.

Shit.

​
& we've all got battle scars ✗ ​
 
Otter comes flying from nearly no where, not too long after Frost wails about her mentor, his own heart hammering in his chest as he moves with a purpose down to the ice-y river. Clearsight and Gillpaw are already there but, Stars, Clearsight went under! Otter is not a strong swimmer but he is much better off trying to save him than any of the smaller apprentices. He's a much better swimmer than when he got here and he remembers Buck plucking him out of the river and in that moment he decides to pay it forwards, help Clearsight the way Clearsight helped him fish.

Clearsight resurfaces, grabs on to a rock and flip himself on to the ice. Otter is panicking as he hears the crack and he's spurred in to motion. He inches on to the ice with haste, please just don't let Clearsight fall through the ice like Greypool! He reaches Clearsight, aims to grab his scruff and haul him in, if the attempt were to work then he'd begin to inch back towards the riverbank. His eyes were blown wide and he's panicking so fucking hard because he fears the ice will break and there will be no Buckgait to save either of them- he screws his eyes shut. "I've gotcha man!" its spoken through muffled fur and clearly betrays how afraid he is with the shake of his voice. He wasn't sure how much longer they had.
"speech"​
​
 

Shouts interrupt their hunting once more. Gillpaw braces himself, claws unsheathed, ready for another battle. Another border skirmish, another blow from leaf-bare. However, it's not a rival clan that bears itself as the source of danger, rather, it's the river. Frozen over, but not frozen enough. Greypool is caught under the ice.

Clearsight breaks out into a run, and Gillpaw sprints after him. Sides heave as the two stop at the edge of the river, as sunflower eyes assess the situation. Greypool is nowhere to be seen. Frostpaw is stuck on the ice. The apprentice listens carefully as his mentor instructs him on what to do. Get Frostpaw back to shore, keep her there.

Slowly, he begins his trek to his fellow apprentice, white paws stepping carefully onto the frozen river. He's scared, paws trembling and slipping, but he pushes forward - has to, has to so he can help Frostpaw, so he can make Clearsight proud. Soon, he makes it to her.

"C-Come on, F-Frostpaw..." Gillpaw urges the silver-pelted feline forward, "E-Everything will... Everything will b-be okay, just... Just f-follow w-where I just came from." He'd made it over safely, so it must be safe to walk back on, right?

He begins walking back, slowly, to make sure Frostpaw could follow him. Gillpaw's so focused on the task, that he doesn't check up on Clearsight once. That is, until he hears the scream that erupts from his mentor. Eyes go wide as he pauses, as he looks over at the scene, just in time to see Clearsight plunge under the water. Panic rises within him, further scares him. He can't... He can't lose Clearsight!

He looks to Frostpaw, and nudges her towards the direction of the shore. "G-Go that way!" he instructs her, before he finds himself trying to hurry towards his mentor. Quickly, before he can lose him. Quickly, as if he were on land, as if he weren't on thin ice, ready to break at any moment.

He doesn't hear the ice crack under his paws.

Ever so quickly, the ice gives way, and Gillpaw too finds himself in the river's cold grasp.
​
 


➵ Otterpop hauls him onto the shore, and Clearsight's claws find purchase on the sand again. Thank the stars. With a gasp and a surge of effort, the blue tabby pushes himself to his paws, trembling legs barely holding his weight. The cold has sunken into his bones now.

"Thank you," he breathes to Otterpop, offering a weak shoulder-bump once he's risen to his feet again.

He could not save Greypool. He's going to have to tell Frostpaw that...

That...

The thought trails off, lost in sudden confusion. Tired yellow eyes have flicked over the shore and found the girl in question, alone.

Suddenly Clearsight cannot think.

Gillpaw.

He turns back toward the water, horror colder than river-water flooding his chest.

No, no—

Cracked ice and a black-and-white form swallowed up by the waves, so small, so goddamned small in that deadly water. Clearsight's world comes crashing down around his ears, and he's already moving, a guttural scream tearing out of his throat, a monstrous and terrified sound.

"NO! NO!"

He's clawing away from Otterpop, stumbling back toward the ice on hypothermic paws—howling for this child, this one precious light that had been placed in his care, this golden-eyed boy he's watched grow. Just this one child he has sworn to protect and he is going to lose him.

"— GILLPAW —"

Even the shallows refuse to hold him this time, ice cracking beneath his paws, ankle-deep in deadly water. Still he'll fight toward the place where Gillpaw disappeared, hoping to throw himself in, to—

Something, he has to do something.

​
& we've all got battle scars ✗
​
 
  • Sad
  • Crying
Reactions: mercibun and otterpop
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The commotion reels Snakeblink in from his hunting patrol. As a rule, he’s not one to run towards a fight, but he’d be a fool to let danger go unchallenged on Riverclan territory. Dropping the trail he was pursuing, he dashes towards the noise, the shouting, towards… the river.

He finds no threat besides the one they’ve built their lives on, no enemy but freezing, uncaring current. The situation seems grim but well-managed by a small crowd already: Frostpaw shivering in shock with her mentor nowhere to be seen, Otterpop panting from exertion— Clearsight dripping water, screaming his apprentice’s name. Snakeblink looks back to the river, eyes growing wide in concern. There: black and white fur flashing in the river before disappearing under the surface once again.

Clearsight has clearly gone under himself; he’ll freeze to death if he goes back in.

He’s moving before he’s fully willed himself to, mind rushing through a plan that’s not much of a plan at all. Gillpaw is small, light: if he wen’t through then the ice can’t take much weight at all. He must be careful. He’s done this for his mother once; he can do it again.

Stepping onto the thicker ice at the edge of the river bed, Snakeblink flattens himself to spread his weight as evenly as he can and starts advancing. Slowly… Slowly… His heart is beating wildly in his ears, drowning even the rushing water and Clearsight’s panic. It takes all he has not to run. The ice makes a noise under his paw, felt rather than heard. He stops, goes around the thin spot. Soon (not soon enough) he reaches the broken edge where he can see Gillpaw’s thrashing form. Like a fish, right? Like grabbing a fish without falling in yourself. Easy.

Then, the current and Gillpaw’s instinctual flailing bring him closer to the surface. Snakeblink strikes, quick as his namesake. Claws digging into the ice, he doesn’t even brace himself for the physical impact of cold water that steals the breath from his lungs as he plunges his head up and front paw into the river and aims to hook his claws into Gillpaw's shoulder to drag him close enough to clamp his teeth around his ruff. If successful, he would heave the apprentice out and further back onto the ice, pulling the two of them to sturdier ground.
​


ooc. information.
  • ooc: bro's reeling him in like a fish...

  • — Snakeblink • he / him. 35 ☾, riverclan warrior
    — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
    — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo


​
 

Cold consumes him and darkness cradles him, tries to lull his struggling form to still, to sink into the river's depths.

He's dying. Has to be. Gillpaw's limbs flail in the rush's grasp, try to push himself above the water. He can't see anything other than darkness, can't find the light source from where he'd fallen in from. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't. He wants to stay alive. Wants to train with Clearsight, wants to become a warrior, wants to grow his rock collection, and play with Ashpaw, and --

Tired. He's getting tired. Limbs ache from their thrashing, and healing battle wounds sting.

Keep your head up. Panicked thoughts remind himself of past swimming lessons, moments shared with his mentor. He's scared, doesn't want to leave Clearsight. Was Clearsight scared too? Was he safe, above the ice? Had someone come to save him? He deserved to be saved. Deserved to live his life with Clayfur. Deserved to stay alive.

His thrashes get slower and slower, hope for survival waning. He begins to sink, begins to succumb to the liquid trenches.

One last push. He gives it one last push.

The stars must align, in that moment. StarClan must've been watching, for a new grasp takes hold of him; grabs him by the scruff of his neck, and tears him away from his watery grave.

The apprentice gasps for air, coughs out water as the atmosphere shifts and chills his soaking pelt. Golden eyes are wide with fear as he looks around, searching for the familiarity of blue swirls of fur.

Clearsight, he just wanted Clearsight.
​
 
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