camp oh, what a life || return after battles

[GENTLESTORM]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — It isn't a surprise to him that Thundergleam arrives to defend Stormywing and he immediately thinks her blindly foolish as well but he recalls the albino molly had arrived coated in blood by Trufflepelt of all cats, someone who had tried taking Howlingstar's life. Why should he trust her or even Stormywing? Her approach only causes his pelt to prickle upwards further like some backed up porcupine with his pupils narrowed into dangerous slits and his lips twitch from the way a snarl pulls at them. "Unkindness... it's not that... especially when I speak the truth... she outed herself.... at the fight during Sunningrocks... if you cannot see that... through your infatuation... for her... you're more blind... than me..." His jaws snap and tighten like some rabid creature that's being backed up into a corner with ears angled forward as he glares at Thundergleam not truly weighing the words that are spat out venomously in the direction of someone that he saw as a friend. A former friend. He's a worn, bruised, and tired shield that had began to crack around the sides with the only way to protect himself are his claws and teeth that would sever anything seen as harmful.

The traitor begins to speak once more and Gentlestorm watches her cautiously with a low growl emitting from his throat but he doesn't even realize it, she speaks about knowing her mistakes and she will pay for it later but shifts the focus to the injured once more. Stormywing cries for him to save Squirrelpaw and for a heartbeat, it reminds him of when Doepath had been struck by a monster... How he had begged for someone to save her just the same and it causes his mouth to become dry. "If you visit... do not linger long... I do not wish... for your rot... in my den..." The pale tom bites once more despite the way it feels like his throat is tightening and his snout wrinkles as he quietly regards the molly that stood before him, the very same that had journeyed alongside him for lungwort. Your clanmates love and care for you yet you throw yourself in the face of danger for kittens that hold no love whatsoever for you. He thought bitterly wishing that it would've been spoken from his maw. A disappointment is what he sees standing before him and he isn't able to say much more when Flamestar speaks.

The red tabby ordering him to stop and muzzling the beast that wanted to tear everything in sight, the overwhelming red in his gaze blinding but Roeflame's quick to push herself between him and Stormywing. He growls in response though he makes no move to push her from the way and finally, Hopepaw speaks up too telling him that she has everything that he requested. He knows that if Raccoonstripe had been concious that the black tabby tom would've joined alongside him and for a heartbeat, the thought alone causes his stomach to churn uncomfortably. "Let's head to.... the den... start chewing the marigold... into poultices..." Gentlestorm mumbles to his apprentice before dipping his head to carefully secure Squirrelpaw's scruff into his jaws and made his way in the direction of the medicine den, the bristling creature finally slipping into his home and the foliage that draped over the entrance brushed against his back causing the paranoid tom to flinch.

The red fading from his gaze far too late and it makes him feel dizzy, the way that his mind begins to spiral into panic wondering which of his other clanmates would do such a thing. He tries not to linger on it for long as he pulls Squirrelpaw into a vacant nest beginning to instruct Hopepaw on what she must do and once he sets her on the right path, Gentlestorm turns his dark gaze to Raccoonstripe "T-they... they won't come for you... not yet... I won't allow it..." The murmur slips from his scruffy maw as he glances over the wounds of the lead warrior and gets to work, he would teach his apprentice about celandine and its uses soon enough for now... He needed to ensure that Howlingstar's son lives to see another day.

MORNING & EVENING, I FELT LIKE I WAS GRIEVING ᨒᨒᨒ UNTIL I SAID FUCK YOU

• ooc — aaaaaaaaaaand he's OOOOOOOOOUUUUT

• 

  MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
  ✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
  ✦ 61 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ widowed mate of little wolf ; currently interested in no one
  ✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking

​

 

[TWILIGHTPAW]

He'd stayed awake. The threat of battle on their borders twice over sharpened his claws as much as it has heightened his paranoia. ThunderClanners were strong cats. They wouldn't roll over and show their bellies so easily, let alone at all. And yet... their forces were split by this circumstance. I should be out there, he thinks in deep, rhythmic thoughts. But what would he do? He's only known kitten brawls and teeth. Along the river or the thunderpath, is he of any more use to the Clan than some wasted away squirrel?

They return home with the air of defeat, and instantly to his paws he stands. He preys on the edge of the nursery, gilded eyes flicking about the broken and injured cats as they trudge through the camp's entrance. It's immediate - the discussion, and then the fighting. Gentlestorm lashes his tongue at Stormywing - and Roeflame and Flamestar both bark at him to stand down. The child grimaces at the lack of unity, but furthermore at the gore that paints every pelt there. He'd hedge for information later, dredge his black tipped paws into whatever unmended mind willing to indulge an overgrown kitten in Clan politics early.

"Where's Nightbird?" he asks the nearest cat, brows furrowing. The thrall is too thick, too loud - and while he seeks his mother, he sees his father instead.

His throat is torn and spilling.

He looks like Howlingstar.

(Twilightkit flinches as the only memory that remains thuds into the sudden emptiness of his mind.)

"Raccoon- Raccoonstripe!" Emotion spits from his tongue as he pushes from his station at the nursery, breaking rank and peddling forward. The chaos is not his concern anymore - his father's suffering reigns now. Silver and coal fur weave around other cats until he finds the medicine den, and unless he is tugged away by his very tail and demanded to report back to his duty - he lingers. His father's eyes are closed (one is bloody; why is it so bloody?) and Twilightkit tremors at the sight of the tom, so beaten and weak. Gentlestorm makes a rumbled promise to the lead warrior, as if his voice is hoarse from tearing into Stormywing moments before.

Twilightkit, if allowed, sits close to the tom's flank. He presses his meager warmth into his father's fur, watching his sides heave with weak breaths and counting the measures in between.
​

 

[FALCONHEART]

𓍊𓋼 He'd managed to avoid any injuries whilst fighting off the ShadowClan warrior who'd thrown themself at him—a single scratch digs into his ribs, shallow enough to have already stopped bleeding, and minor enough that it surely won't need any medical attention. As for Bugpaw and Littlepaw, he's sure they're fine as well. Bugpaw, at least, escaped with some minor injuries, but with Littlepaw leading the return and supporting her mother, he can only assume that she's well enough to be stable until Gentlestorm can take a look at her. The medicine cat will have bigger wounds to care for, nonetheless; Tallstep and Roeflame are both severely injured.

When the group returns to camp, Falconheart hardly has the presence of mind to pay attention to anyone else in camp. He'd been gone for so long—he needs to check in on his siblings. Surely nothing could have happened while he was gone, but he can't shake the vision of Sparrowpaw's still body from his mind. He rushes for the apprentices' den, hardly breathing until he ducks his head in. "Sunpaw? Squirrelpaw?" He calls into the den, but his voice is met with silence. The only soul in the den is... Deerpaw, curled in a nest. Bicolored eyes narrow, and the warrior retreats from the apprentices' den with worry weighing heavy on his shoulders. Shouting erupts around the clearing of camp, and between Roeflame, Gentlestorm, Stormywing, and Thundergleam he can hardly make out what's going on. His gaze finds his mother's bloodied pelt, and at last his paws move toward her, near-frantic heartbeat pounding in his chest. It's only then that Bugpaw's cry registers in his ears—Squirrelpaw. Squirrelpaw is hurt. Squirrelpaw groans in pain, her throat patched messily with cobweb but blood still leaking from her like sap from a tree.

Gentlestorm quickly gathers the pale calico's form up, pulling her carefully into his den. "She'll be okay," he attempts to comfort his apprentice, stepping closer to her side. There's nothing either of them can do for now, except pray that their sister won't meet StarClan today.

heaven knows 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 how hard i’ve tried

• ooc: interacting with @Bugpaw !
• 
• FALCONHEART ❯❯ he/him, thunderclan warrior
  ⭃ shorter than average cream tabby with white spotting. seems gloomy and has few friends, but is a hard worker and never neglects his duties.
  ⭃ son of flamestar and flycatcher ; brother to stormfeather, ravenpaw, bugpaw, sunpaw, squirrelpaw, sparrowpaw
  ⭃ mentoring bugpaw & littlepaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ⭃ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[sunshinespot]

It's the shouting that wakes him. He's a heavy sleeper, normally (and especially with his rounded belly to weigh him down,) but the discouraged wailing and arguing finally stir him in his nest. He's alone, which isn't uncommon - Doepath has been taking frequent naps within Gentlestorm's reach nowadays, given her pregnancy being a little harder on her. Despite his want to roll over and sleep once more, he decides to stand and head out into the fray.

They've lost. It's a slow, slurring realization as he counts the bodies that suffocate the camp. He had been told of the separated fights, briefly during a window of being awake, yet it is only now that he has a flicker of recognition. It was not a set of easy battles, it was hard lost and now they must nurse their wounded and mourn their dead with no reprieve from the guilt. Sunshinespot frowns, for even his sunlit smile cannot outshine the plaguing pain of the Clan.

He counts the faces he sees once more, attempting to find his friends and family amongst the many of them. Sunshinespot counts and counts again.

"Hey - hey, guys?" his tone is rough with sleep, eyebrows pinching together as he tries to speak over the crowd. "Has anyone seen Braveheart? Or... ah, Fallowbite, even?" He would've left with them, both of them would've. The honor of battle is something they share in their bond, something that the mottled queen never quite understood. Sunshinespot waits for an answer, hedging a bet that his lacking eyesight is obscuring the duo.
​

 

[beetlepaw]

Beetlepaw's breath is ragged as he makes it to camp. His shoulders are heaving, eyes red from what might have been tears, or could have been asphyxiation. His paws shake with tremors unlike anything before- not even his gripping fear of bugs at a young age could compare to this. He staggers through the gorse tunnel. Where was his siblings, his mother, his father? His father. He'd have to tell his Dad about what he has done, tell him about the light he took from someone's life.

Vision swings towards cats that walk past him, some sharing concerned looks in his direction. Beetlepaw doesn't speak, just stares with eyes widened. That cat, who had a mother, a father, siblings, friends- he has taken that from them. He is searching the crowds for anyone. A familiar face. He is begging Starclan to send his blood-kin his way. He is begging for the stars to take back what he has done. Bugs fly under his skin and crawl, and he is shaking again.

Raccoonstripe's name is howled. His ear twitches. Nightbird- no one knows where she is. Fallowbite and Braveheart are missing. Gentlestorm, spitting fire at Stormywing. Beetlepaw inhales, his ribs burning.

He then sobs outwards. His sides sting, but not like Mottledpaw's face, or the way Squirrelpaw couldn't keep her eyes open. No, he had come away with superficial wounds and a small story to tell of his first kill in the future- but what he felt right now was the unmistakable feeling of grieving for an enemy. The undeniable fact he has taken another's life from this world. His body sinks to the ground near the edge of camp, paws moving to cover his ears and eyes, to hide him from judgement that may be cast.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ┌── TELL ME DOCTOR WHATS THE CURE ⋅❁⋅ FOR THE WICKED MANS BLUES ──┐‎

• "speech"
  // just some very superficial wounds on his sides/shoulders

• 

• BEETLEPAW he/him, kit of thunderclan, nine moons.
  ⭃ LH black smoke with bright green eyes. is growing into a very broad and built tom-cat of average height, mirroring his father's build. has a nick in his right ear and a new scar on his muzzle.
  ⭃ mentored by BURNSTORM/ / mentoring no one
  ⭃ no romantic interests / / BURNSTORM X ROEFLAME - sibling to dovepaw and littlepaw, adoptive sibling to hopepaw and coalpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[BASILPAW!]

( 𖤓 ) despair hunches the shoulders of the cream tabby boy as he stumbles home. his jaw is burdened by a corpse that drags along the ground by his paws. tears streak out of evergreen eyes, mingling with crimson that stains snowy white fur. basilpaw carries his father home to rest, a broken shell of who he once was.

coming home minutes after everyone else has arrived, he feels almost abandoned by his clan. thunderclan had retreated as campionsong had died. there had been no warrior to aid his son in bringing him home. the order to retreat had fallen upon deaf ears - campionsong had surged upon the shadowclan warrior, defending his son to the last. and the last it had been - swansong's deadly teeth had crushed down on the silver warrior's throat, stopping gripping until he'd stopped fighting. basilpaw could've done nothing to save the man. it eats him up inside as he stumbles through the camp entrance, a low wail keening from his throat.

basilpaw feels bile rising in his gut, feels the sharp pain of his chin where a deep gash wells with fresh blood. he stares around with bloodshot eyes, seeking gentlestorm, hopepaw, anyone. "help him!" the boy heaves his father towards the gathered group, a wail leaving his maw. he is too late, he knows this as true as he knows the heartbeat that thumps in his chest, but desperation drives him. "please…"

IF YOU LET IT ALONE 𖤓 IT WILL SURELY GROW

• // apologies on the lateness, was waiting for permission to post. o7 campy.
  bas has a deep cut on his chin, and campionsong is dead. "#FAC966"
• 
• BASILPAW 𖤓 HE / THEY, APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN. MENTORED BY CAMPIONSONG. SIBLING TO MERLINPAW, WOLFPAW, SUNNYPAW. 8 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a cream ticked tabby with high white, and green eyes. a tall boy sporting a chaotically ruffled coat of pale cream tabby. darker ticked stripes flow down his fur, and band around his legs and face. his chest, stomach, muzzle, and most of his tail are white, and he has ferny-green eyes that sparkle with mischief.

​

 

[leafhusk]

their blood cannot soak into the grass, so it settles like puddles after a rainstorm. leafhusk watches her chilling breath curl from her muzzle, each breath awkwardly strained due to the numbing pain in her shoulder. when she finally stumbles into camp, it is chaos. shouts and growls fill her head, spilling from tawny ears; a river-shadow alliance, cross-clan kits. ah… stormywing's reaction to barleysight's soapbox begins to make sense.

her eyes flick to and fro, onto the cold bodies of her clanmates, and the ones that were miraculously still warm. so many dead, injured… for a sliver of land. the forest should be kissing their paws for eradicating skyclaw before their damage went past the borders. now, basilpaw cries for his father because of shadowclan's ignorance. she tries to find orangepaw, and when she doesn't, she assumes he slipped away somewhere. later. later, when it's not the middle of the night.

the forest has begun to eat itself. will there be anything left? yes, there will, she reminds herself as flamestar calls for her. "of course, flamestar." she murmurs, aware her voice won't be heard over the chaos. leafhusk's wound became dry and crusty awhile ago, so she hobbles to the council meeting looking like a hot mess.

// out, heading to flamestars den

⚘

​

 

[Pinestep]

The brown tabby kept quiet as he used the remaining of his strength to keep the larger warrior upright. But it was his duty. It was his meaning, of being a warrior. To follow, he did not care to lead. No, it was drama. It was too much. Already, Flamestar made many decisions that he wouldn't even know where to begin with. And now a trusted warrior...? Falling for...

He clenched his jaws. He remained passive despite prying thoughts. Pinestep kept a steady hold on the other, gaze glancing to Roaringsun, then back forward despite the clamour around them. "You will do just fine, Raccoonstripe. I need not tell you, that you are a strong Thunderclan warrior. Lead warrior at that. Deserved. You shall not falter. I trust, you and the council will regain what's ours. Starclan shall not take you from us. Consider- hell, Value, your unrelenting strength," he says in a rough voice as he tried to gently help the other down. But the warrior was exhausted, and he could not blame him. His words were not needed, but he hoped, that it would only encourage the warrior to fight hard against his injuries.

And when gentlestorm emerged, he would dip his head in a silent greeting, then slip out of the den. He was not needed here, he was needed elsewhere. And he will scour the lands as long as he possibly could for any morsel, any tinge of hope for less empty bellies for those injured.

Interacting with @/Raccoonstripe. But does not expect a response, and @/Roaringsun. \\

Out\\

​

 

[STORMYWING]

Flamestar and Roeflame each come to metaphorically tear the medicine cat off of her, but her eyes remain focused on him, narrowing. The malice in his words directed at Thundergleam causes her fur to bristle. And he won't let it go, not even when Stormywing begs him to just help her cousin. Rot, he calls her. It's then that the admiration she'd felt for him, the high regard she'd held him at as her medicine cat, crumbles. The gentle, kind tom she'd always thought he was is no more, replaced by a cruel creature she no longer recognizes. Her heart aches and she wants to cry. I'm not rot. I wouldn't harm my kin. Tears of hurt and frustration threaten to spill from her eyes but she defiantly holds them back as she shuffles backwards so Squirrelpaw can be taken.

She finally tears her angry gaze away from Gentlestorm - oh, it's laughable how little that name describes him now - and looks to Roeflame. The way she looks at her is heartbreaking, and she feels something shatter in her. Betrayal. It's betrayal she sees there. Embarrassment and guilt threaten to swallow her whole as she ducks her head and flattens her ears against her head. Her eyes only peek up to look to her leader, who tells her they'd speak in the morning and to make herself useful. "Yes, Flamestar," She mews immediately, her voice small.

Palefire offers to guard the camp and Stormywing pushes past the shaking in her legs caused by fading adrenaline. She forces herself away from Thundergleam's comforting touch to try and stand tall. "Let me help." She levels the younger warrior with an almost pleading look. Let me do something. ​

 

[Meadowpaw]

Meadowpaw had not come from the battle without a couple of wounds but there was nothing serious coating her sun-striped coat. A small scratch here, a patch of missing fur there. Nothing that would be the death of her though. The most wounded part of her was her pride. They had lost. She can't believe it. ThunderClan was the best clan, the strongest in the whole forest how could they have lost? She doesn't understand until she hears someone say this attack was coordinated. ShadowClan and RiverClan working together to steal from them. (A small part of her, selfishly, is grateful she had not been there to fight RiverClan. If she came face to face with Cragpaw in battle she is uncertain she could ever lift her claws against him..) "What a load of fox dung!" she spits and then to Ivorypaw she turns "We'll get them next time you'll see! Today was only a taste, next time we'll-" she cuts off mid sentence as her gaze lands upon the marred face of her sister. It feels like she's just been kicked in the chest. "Mottledpaw!" she cries out, the pain of seeing her sister so injured worse than any wound she could ever suffer. She nearly trips over her own paws to get to her side.

All around her, the cries of the injured and their loved ones fill her ears. Raccoonstripe and his kits, Bugpaw. She wants to go to all of them, to tell them that it'll be okay but.. Her duty is to her sister first. She had to be here for her, for Scarletpaw. "Mottledpaw, Im here- Im here" she murmurs softly as she comes to her kins side "It'll be okay I-I promise. You'll be okay" plenty of cats had survived loosing an eye right? She would be just fine right?

( ❀༉ ) there's love in the lightning ₊˚༉‧₊˚

• 
  
  
• 
  MEADOWPAW THUNDERCLAN KITTEN ; SHE / HER
  LIGHTSTRIKE X MOONWHISPER SISTER TO SCARLETPAW & MOTTLEDPAW ; MENTORED BY PALEFIRE
  

  A large fluffy red tabby kitten with a white chest, stomach, tail, muzzle and stripe running along her back. Her eyes are a deep, forest, green and in her pelt one can usually find flowers woven

  ✦ easy in battle + no formal training
  

 

[MERLINPAW]

"B-Basilpaw... W-What happened to - to dad...?"

Merlinpaw's staccato voice piqued through the frantic sea of murmurs, like stiff air that whistled through her gossamer throat, a held breath that heaved through her very bones. She had just arrived from Sunningrocks, the grime upon her tousled pelt and the nick along once-unfazed ear the fruits of the battle. Golden eyes widened as they caught upon her brother, dragging with him an all-too-familiar face. The limp and sanguine-stained body of her father lagged along the ground, like a mere slough or skin of the vibrant man he once was, embalmed in the deathly-still solitude of death. She had just seen him hours ago, departing from her just as she had called for reinforcements. The last thing that the apprentice had even seen from her father was that coy smile, piercing through the alabasters and cottons of his face. It was a promise to return, a promise that Thunderclan's efforts would not be in vain. Had he failed them? The dilute tortoiseshell molly froze where she stood, as though she had been wracked with the charnel wind that consumed Campionsong, as if she would fall to never rise again. Ears folded to the sides of her skull. No, she knew now that she had failed him, that she had failed her entire family.

"C-Campion... You - You - You didn't help h-him! Dad! W-Why did - didn't you... you do a-anything? He's d-dead!" Merlinpaw threw herself at her father's side, as though she could someone grant life to the decedent, as though her tears would haul the spirit back to where she could see and feel them. Harrowed words fell upon all ears, though they did not entangle a particular person in its snare of blame. They were all at fault, and none of them at all. It was her fault, most of all. If only she had been there instead of her brother, allowed her languid hue to take on that grim red... Dull aureates turned towards the golden pelt of his brother for a moment, unknowable expression burning through otherwise rusted eyes. Why didn't you save him? It seemed to speak without words, before her eyelids would force themselves shut once more. Sobs wrested through the girl's large body, as though jolts through rigor mortis, and a dirge through bittersweet silence. There lie only the residual warmth of death, the same that she felt beneath her palate as prey ran cold. Burning sensation riveted through her face, until it numbed her flushed cheeks. If she groveled enough, begged enough, cried enough - would it change for her?​