camp pray to deaf skies | telling Coyotepaw

[ThistleBack]

Hatred was tar in his veins, thick and pumped by the beat of Windclan. There was no mistaking the purity of his absolute loathing for them, as clear as the shallows of River water. They had attacked, stolen half his son’s life away, stolen herb- continue to prod and poke. Thistleback was a patient man, but the endless testing of said patience couldn’t be good.

The gathering had been once more, a festival of shouts and accusations. Their ally, attacked- two warriors in the ground, one so very very deserving. Juniperfrost, is dead. The ratheart who stole his son all because blood. Blood meant nothing to Thistleback, he hadn’t had a family before the one he created.

Which makes this news, hard to deliver. Not because he feels he would bring the boy woe, but because was it even worth the breath? Such as ticks plucked off an elder’s backside. Then again, something is tugging him toward the boy. He looks so happy. Blood meant something to his son, and the lead warrior knew- he had to tell him. Thistleback understands, that his eyes see the world differently.

" son. I’m sure you heard a bit about the gathering last night. Alot did happen " he speaks up in that softer tone he takes only to family and those who need it. " Juniperfrost was the Windclanner that was killed. What started- what could be… the next war " he searches the boy’s face.

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OOC INFO REF

• — please wait for @Coyotepaw <3
  
  
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  Thirty-three moons EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Lead warrior of Skyclan since 12.22.22
  — Devoted to Deersong 9.29.22 | polyamorous
  — Father of Coyotepaw, Pricklepaw, and Eveningpaw.
  — mentoring Snowpaw graduate(s) Quillstrike
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
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[Coyotecrest]

Angry at all the things I can't change

He managed to overhear bits and pieces of what happened at the gathering. Apparently there was an uproar of shouts fired off from several clans, but what else was new. Windclan also managed to do something dastardly once again and there was something about Cicadastar losing his cool and storming off mid way through. Unlike the others whom indulged in gossip, Coyotepaw heard only tidbits that were spoken too loud by others, but never wasted his time pursuing the full story. The sound of paws gathers his attention, causing the cream colored lad to turn about in a tight circle to face his father figure. The bristle backed lead begins with the title of son before bleeding into the general atmosphere of the gathering.

Quietly he nods his head, not surprised by the overall chaos that happened underneath the full moon. But as Thistleback confesses that his birth father was one of the warriors killed he stiffens, eyes finding the ground beneath his paws. Although he despised every waking moment within windclan, he held onto some shred of hope that perhaps he would learn more about himself and his lineage while there. Hoping that perhaps Juniperfrost was not the fox hearted monster Leopardcloud made him out to be. If anything, Coyotepaw learned that his mother was absolutely right about everything. He was, in more ways than one, a monster. He now understood why she worked so hard to curb his quick temper, to quell his tendency to want to use claws first and words last. All were traits inherited from the blue tinted tabby.

But now he was dead and the flaxen tom truly did not know how to feel. How could you miss something you never really had to begin with? His brows pinch together as he looks back up, allowing to silence to remain for a few moments longer. The entirety of his birth family was gone, the final remnant perishing in some fight between clans. Yet he cannot help but feel like the forest is better off without him. "He might have been my father by title...but he did not earn that role in my heart." Coyotepaw reassures the dual toned tom, ears falling slack. "As sad as it is to say...I think riverclan did the whole forest a favor." He murmurs lowly. ​

when you're lost in the universe don't lose faith​

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[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar had only met the hulking blue tabby once, when he'd come with his bleeding heart presented to SkyClan, bared to all. Leopardcloud had presented Juniperfrost as a cruel, malicious cat, and Coyotepaw seems to have learned that for himself during his time in WindClan. The Ragdoll listens solemnly at Thistleback delivers the news, and exhales at Coyotepaw's response.

"RiverClan lost a warrior because of that favor," he reminds Coyotepaw, padding closer. He shakes his head. "His death caused more destruction than his life had, in the end." Blazestar, like any of his Clanmates, does not mourn the blue tabby's murder -- but he cannot agree that the forest is better off without him. Look at the state of RiverClan now, of Cicadastar. The man had been frothing mad, beside himself, jumping at every chance to silence Sootstar and Howlingstar.

Blazestar blinks solemnly. He hopes Coyotepaw will understand what he's getting at. There are things the SkyClan leader will not be able to teach the boy when he assumes mentorship, but what he can teach, he wants to do it well.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[grizzlyridge]

The world stands on the cusp of collapse, and at its heart– this moment. Grizzlyridge has been quiet. Consumed by himself, and the loneliness of it all. Loss after loss plagued this forest, and more and more frequently he finds himself mourning the simplicity of his life settled in his twolegs' laps. SkyClan had been formed by choice, by many of those who knew just that feeling. They had sought freedom as well as stability, companionship. He does not think any of them had come here in search of a war. A ceaseless, endless war that will only ever take on different faces. The scars along his muzzle will stretch into a battlefield of their own, and there is no peace to be had. What a sorrowful world they must live in, for a father to mean so little to Coyotepaw. What a terrible place it is, that he can only think the apprentice's words were deserved.

The warrior sighs, ad his breath is as careful as the way in which he inserts himself to the conversation. "Their fight to avenge him will never be finished," he agrees with their leader, chancing a glance to his sun-glow pelt and dipping his head in a thoughtful nod. "He may not have been family to you, but he was a clanmate to them." Grizzlyridge's voice is soft. It was his job, in a way, to look at things through another's eyes. His twoleg had been as easily frightened as a mouse– more than react, he had learned to anticipate. Would this frighten them? Would he be able to distract them in time? Now, he turns his mind to WindClan. "They are cruel, and they are wrong, but they are as alive as all of us. They will mourn him, even if we do not."

˗ˏˋ〚  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〛´ˎ˗

• ooc: —
• GRIZZLYRIDGE. world-weary warrior of skyclan.
  ──── uses he - him - his, may accept they - them - theirs.
  ──── about four years old.  a former pine group member.
  ──── homoromantic homosexual, but this may develop.
  
  a large, broad-shouldered highlander cat with lightly tufted curled ears and large paws made larger by extra toes. a solid seal point with only a small white marking on his muzzle and deep blue eyes.
• "speech"

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[SILVERSMOKE]

War was something the tabby could admit not necessarily liking, but appreciating when it came around. There were few chances for Silversmoke to test his strength, something that was perhaps not the most important trait in the world, but important to him. War meant hardship, war also meant a chance to prove he was not the weak cat he was mere moons ago, it required a balance that the clan cats rarely seemed to appreciate. His expression is stark as Juniperfrost's death is announced, somehow, it grew even more barren as Coyotepaw insisted that the man was not his father - it was just a shame it had taken betraying his mother's memory for the naive apprentice to realise that. Silversmoke's brows knit closer together, listening to the others share their philosophies and thoughts with dark ears twitching whenever he heard something he disagreed with. "If WindClan persists on vengeance, it won't just be Juniperfrost they lose. They may have ended a RiverClanner but I have never met a WindClanner whose battle prowess has impressed me." They were small, spindly things, better saved for digging tunnels than engaging in longterm warfare with the larger cats of the forest. Size wasn't everything, but with WindClan's ailing track record of keeping their clanmates alive, it must've played a part, at least.

His head angled upwards, assured in his observations of the enemy clan. They were not the challengers of war he wished to test his rusty claws on, though he did not know how to feel about Grizzlyridge putting a heart behind them. "If you've already put the matter behind you, Coyotepaw, I will leave it at that." There were plenty of lessons on life and death that can be taught, but Silversmoke did not know half of them. Death wasn't something he'd experienced, not truly. If he'd meant to feel something for the rogues he'd dispatched or the families torn apart by the conflicts outside of his jurisdiction, then he didn't know what it would look like to truly mourn. Most would consider it a blessing, but as he kept the words of his leader and the senior warrior in his mind, he couldn't help but feel as if he were missing out. Pain was an awful thing, yet sometimes, it was the only way to truly appreciate still living.

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