camp PRAYER OF THE REFUGEE — rogue invasion

[ROGUES]

The sun sets over the moorland hills, and as shadows lengthen and thicken, pairs of amber eyes begin to glow from the darkness. Cats with ribs showing like blades beneath ragged, ripped fur begin to prowl, their pelts bristling and tails lashing. Low yowls begin to shred the air. An especially muscular cat, his shoulders and chest broad and scarred, slips easily through the gorse barrier around WindClan’s camp. Four cats follow him, pouncing immediately on whoever raises a warning call to the rest of the Clan.

“This is a nice place you have here,” the scarred tom howls, laughter crackling like static through the twilight air. “I think I’ll take it for myself, if you don’t mind.”

Like liquid, more cats begin to pour into the camp, their eyes shining like fire in the dying glow of the sun. Claws are unsheathed, teeth bared and gleaming. There are more cats than there are in WindClan now filling the camp, all of them fleabitten, wearing pelts marked by battles won and prey acquired.

“If you do mind…” Another rogue joins the first, her tail bushing out behind her with adrenaline, “We suggest you find somewhere else to do it.” Her cackle peals across the sky, and more cats begin to materialize in the darkness, stampeding over anyone who protests their presence.

There is no fighting them—at least, there is no fighting them and winning, for they are many, and they have grown stronger from prey harvested from WindClan’s own moors.

---

​

The rogues are in camp! Your character can try and fail to fight, but they will be outnumbered, so feel free to powerplay that! Anyone in WindClan may post, but please do not double post until @SOOTSTAR has the opportunity!​

 

[rivewhisper]

"BABY, DON'T YOU KNOW I SUFFER?"​

Peace broke the night that Rivekit held near.

She hadn't been able to sleep yet. Wide eyes were piercing the gaze of the moon as it rose, the sun giving it's farewells with the liquid red of sunset, and the rustling of gorse. All normal noises- no, that one wasn't normal. The kit's gaze shifted and turned as inky shadows found their way into camp, grin split wide and eyes on the prize. The prize of their home. Fear and courage grasped her heart, but she was just a kit, wasn't she?

No, she named Rive. She would rip and tear, bite into the hearts of their enemies. With a yowl, Rivekit pushed to her paws, turning to face the rogues. Her eyes blazed with confidence, despite the fear prickling at her skin. Her kitten teeth, sharp and unyielding, bared themselves to the invaders- even though her paws moved with inaction. "Get out! This isn't your home!" Her tiny voice split the air, kitten snarls trying to convince them to turn around and run. Hint: It won't work. ​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[► BUNNYPOUNCE.]

♥​♥ RUN RABBIT, RUN RABBIT, RUN RUN RUN ♥♥​

---

bunnypounce & 26 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler​

---

Well fox-dung.

Bunnypounce is not unfamiliar with the ways of rogues - her own dirt-smeared pelt was once one of them, lingering 'round twolegplace streets after her grand escape. Eve nthere, she'd been strange - sun-bitten skin and too wide eyes, tri-pod figure hobbling along unwanted until she'd found freedom in the moors. Though she'd been happy to feel the touch of fresh air upon her pelt, to be able to see the sun and moon and stars, to eat prey instead of stale scraps - it'd been no less dangerous than her upbringing, just another place of teeth and claws.

So when a flood of cats arrives this night, she freezes - for a moment it is not Bunny but Floor standing there, and she whimpers. She is no fighter - she was born wrong, with too-strange eyes and a missing leg. She is made for dwelling beneath the dirt, not fighting, a slow moving thing with limbs and joints in near constant pain - oh stars, why had she even come to camp tonight, when she could've been safely tucked away in the nice cool dirt? There is no time to take to the tunnels - no, not now. Whine grows sharper, more high pitched - fur fluffing up best it can and ears pinned back. She can only hope someone else will pave the way for her to flee - terror sending heart racing and lungs heaving.

— don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun ♛

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — short and squat albino she-cat with pink-tinged blue eyes and a missing front paw. she seems perpetually smudged with dirt from her time spent beneath the earth, and rarely makes an appearance above ground. bunny speaks in the third person, her voice strangely high-pitched and child-like, and doesn't seem to be the brightest of the bunch.
  
  — physically medium && mentally easy
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=hotpink]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[VIOLETHEART]

When the flea-bitten rogues flood in, Violetheart knows that there's no fighting them - at least, there's no chance that WindClan would win in a fight against how many rogues there are, and Violetheart doesn't want to think about or see the consequences that might come of trying to. The pride in the back of his mind urges him to let loose, but the control he's cultivated over the moons is what holds him back from making any foolish decisions. These were the foxhearted who had been biting at WindClan's heels for far too long, taking prey that didn't belong to them, and perhaps due to their small, one- or two-man skirmishes, they had been underestimated in how large of a united front they had at the ready.
"Stay back." Violetheart grit out as he faced off against the intruders, teeth showing. The words are for the rogues just as much as they are for his own Clanmates like Rivekit and Bunnypounce, both of whom aren't ones that he would let go up against desperate intruders. Hoping to win might be a far-fetched goal, but Violetheart would be damned if he wasn't going to make sure that his Clanmates stayed safe as they could in the midst of this invasion.​

 

[PINKSHINE]

It's a weird croaking noise, the sound of squeals before it's silenced – it reminds her of when she was younger, and didn't know that you were supposed to be quieter at night. Pink-kit had squealed to her littermate because she wasn't ready to sleep yet, and a mean queen had shushed her.

This was meaner than mean, though. It was scary. There are cats yelling outside even though it's late, and Pink-kit is wiggling her way out from under Brightshine to go take a peak. Someone wants their place? Someone scary– a lot of scary someones, with sharp teeth and ugly scars. Rivekit is out there too, yelling at them. There is a weird yucky tunneler ducking; and a less weird one – Violetheart joining dumb Rivekit.

" Who are they? " Pink-kit gasps, eyes wide as she looks to her littermates or Brightshine for an answer. They were strange, and WindClan didn't like them. " Th– um... bad guys? " for once, she has the awareness to whisper.

OOC 🎀 IT'S 4:27 IN THE AFTERNOON, 20 MISSED TEXTS FROM YOU

•  

• NOTE: SHE IS A FEVER COAT BABY!
  

  

• ( I MISS YOU, IT'S MAGIC! ) PINK-KIT KIT OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHKIT, DOWNYKIT, & FINCHKIT.
  —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  —— CURRENTLY 2 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH
  
  A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with yellow eyes, ringed blue around her pupils (sectoral heterochromia). While you can clearly see her flame markings on her face, the rest of her body is currently covered by a grey fever - coating. Though the whites of her are still very much visible. Pink-kit bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
  

  HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pink-kit is a very irrational and childish character!​

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

◇────────────【☆】★【☆】────────────◇​

XXXXXThe early night air is quiet one moment, and the next it is alive with yowls, with fury and the stench of fear radiating from her Clanmates. Bluepaw’s paws begin to tremble as unfamiliar cats fill their camp, all of them wearing scarred pelts and hungry expressions. One boldly stakes his claim to their home, a she-cat yowling her demand for WindClan to leave. The tunneler’s fur fluffs up with outrage—outrage, and, unmistakably, terror. She spots Violetheart and Bunnypounce, the former crouching protectively in front of their Clanmates, the latter shying away from the rogues’ gleaming eyes.

XXXXXBeside her, one of Wolfsong’s kits stumbles out of the medicine cat’s den, her face a transparent mask of bravery. Bluepaw attempts to pull her back with a swift swiping motion. “You little fool,” she hisses. “Stay back before you get killed!” Beside her, one of Brightshine’s kits—the tortoiseshell with fluffed-out fur—stammers a question. “Are they the bad guys?” Bluepaw has no love for kits, but she curls her tail protectively around Pink-kit if allowed, her gaze never leaving the cats who storm their camp. “Yes,” she answers. “Someone…” Her throat goes dry. “Someone should get Sootstar and Sunstride.”

─────────​

​

 

[FOXGLARE]

⁀➷ That night, it happened all so quickly. But in a way, hadn't it all been coming to this? The stolen prey, the muddied borders... It was only a matter of time that the rat-faced thieves worked up the boldness to attempt to take their territory. Though, he didn't think anyone expected them to waltz right into camp by the dozens.

A cacophony of yowls sounded out from Windclanners alerting the clan and from the rogues that barreled past them. Foxglare scanned the hollow with a hardened glint when he spotted a small grey shape being backed up against the gorse wall by three of the flea-ridden rogues. Cottonpaw..!

Without another thought, Foxglare dashed toward them and leaped to barrel over one of them and to try and shove himself between the medicine cat apprentice and her assailants. A well-aimed paw raked at the muzzle of one of them and he snarled at the intruders, "Get BACK!!"

He prepared to launch himself at any of them should they attempt to make another swipe at Cottonpaw or to prepare to forge a path out of the mass of bodies. Windclan was a mass of exhausted and half-starved cats, but they would not be dying tonight. This, he was sure of.

ALL IN ALL ⁀➷☾⁺₊ IS ALL WE ARE ; 09/08/23

• OOC: @cottonpaw mobile post !!
• 
• 
  — sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
  — he/him. 11mo moor-runner of windclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — a large, scarred, longhaired light ginger tabby with high white and grey eyes
  — smells like wet oak wood and dewy sedge
  — sounds like leon kennedy, with a vague texan drawl.
  — the straight-faced and taciturn adopted son of houndthistle, lived as a twolegplace loner until 7 moons old, now a moor-runner of windclan. stalwart and resilient, he is not easily shaken and lives by a very strict personal code of honor.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — icon by mercurial, chibi by vulture
  — penned by eezy

​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

The increase in rogue activity has not escaped the sharp-eyed warrior’s attention. They had been too young to remember the last time that rogues roamed the moorland—when Sunstride and Wolfsong had joined the clan—but their wariness of outsiders has not changed. So when a sudden commotion strikes in the form of rogues flooding into their camp, they are not entirely shocked, but fear grips their chest all the same. They catch sight of Bluepaw, the tunneler standing alongside two kits, and though their lip would normally curl at the sight of the clan’s troublesome young, Gravelsnap only feels concern. For their friend, for the kits, and for their clan.

They stalk over to stand beside their clanmates, glancing over Rivekit and Pinkkit; uninjured, both of them. Thankfully. "Bluepaw," he murmurs, voice low, as the pieces begin to fit together in his head. This is a hostile takeover, the rogues striking when the clan is at its weakest. He glances around to Bunnypounce, to Violetheart, hoping to feign confidence. WindClan will face this threat just as they’ve faced the others before—with force. But first, heeding Bluepaw’s words, their leader and deputy need to be informed of what’s going on. To go and inform them would be to leave Bluepaw and the two kits without a moor runner to defend them, but in all honesty, it seems he’d only be a momentary distraction if it came down to a fight. With a glare toward the largest and loudest of the rogues, Gravelsnap decides that it’s best to go and fetch the clan’s leads anyway. "I’ll get them. Be careful." Please don’t do something reckless and die, he wants to say, but the tunneler apprentice is smarter than he is, so he’s certain she won’t make any careless decisions.

His paws are quick as he rushes through the camp, shouting for the leader as soon as he spots her familiar pelt. He calls Sunstride’s name as well, hoping that the amber-striped deputy might be nearby. "Sootstar! Sunstride! There’s so many rogues in camp. They want us to leave." Their voice wavers, thinking of the death that their clanmates could be meeting right now, but they square their shoulders and attempt to keep the trembling out of their paws. He is a warrior, a fighter trained by Houndthistle. He cannot be afraid to die for his clan.

// @SOOTSTAR and @SUNSTRIDE​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

Featherkit always thought he saw movement in the shadows. It was a hard blink away from being erased, normally... whispers of rogues and death were just that, merely whispers, he had to tell himself. This time, though- his watchfulness was not imagines, his wariness was not displaced. Marble-striped fur fluffed in alarm at the sound of shouting outside- not the sort that writhed beneath her skin and forced broiling words out of her mouth, but the sort that she had heard about and had scared her irreversibly.

Her sister was an unbridled spitfire, and idiotic for it. Featherkit watched her barrel like a rolled-up bramble bush toward the line of rogues, her blood alive and her namesake pouring out of her like torrential rain. But- bravery, given to Rivekit in that name, must have decayed her mind. They were not old enough to fight yet- they couldn't. They shouldn't.

Loathe as she would be to find out she had agreed with Pink-kit, in that moment Featherkit branded her littermate as nothing but a fool. It was not panic that split through his yowl, but anger- the words felt strong as they burst from him, bellowing above the din. "Rivekit! Shake the b... bees out of your brain and get b... b... back!" He was angry, angry at her for making him worry, making him sick with it. Bluepaw, unfamiliar and sour-eyed, swept his littermate out of the way.

He glared at Rivekit as if she had killed one of his siblings. She almost had. ​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[FOGBOUND]

your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He stiffened, muscles pulling taunt at the influx of rogues spilling into their camp without a damn ounce of respect. He should have expected this. He used to be one of them. His lips curled, revealing stained teeth, ruby optics blazing. They were outnumbered. A far outcry to the pathetic excuses that he called his clanmates, thinner than a bird’s leg and far more prickly. A hiccup, of course. He knew how things would play out and he didn’t like them one bit.

His heart clenched, gathering himself onto massive paws, bulky frame looking worse for wear, but determined despite the visible show of bone beneath a wooly pelt that all but zapped his energy. His expression remained aloof, offering no one an inside of what he was expressing other than the white-hot rage bubbling at the surface of marred skin. “You have no right.” He seethed, coming to shield Bunnypounce with his bulky frame. It seemed the others had similar ideas, urging their weaker members back. Like that’ll do much. He scoffed, turning a heated gaze on the rogues, willing his ruby orbs to set fire to one of the parasites.

“I suggest you sniveling fools find somewhere else before I sink my teeth into those pretty pelts of yours.” He wasn’t at his best, the moor runner knew that but Fogbound was sure as hell ready to shed blood if it meant keeping what little he cherished safe. He might be a bastard, but the smoky tom wasn’t one to shy away from this, especially when it risked the lives of his clan. He might not like some of them, but Fogbound wouldn’t let them die for the sake of pettiness. Of course, he might be more keen to save others before them, but they’ll never know that.

He barely acknowledged the quiet mumble of getting their higher-ranked counterparts, instead focusing a ruby gaze on the intruders, teeth curled into a wicked grin in an elegant curl of his lips. “I don’t take kindly to parasites.” ​

​

thought speech​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✦　　. 　 ˚　.   It is not Gravelsnap that finds him, but Rivekit's name from Featherkit's tongue. Perhaps the warrior would have better luck seeking Sootstar– he can only hope that is the case, for when he hears that his kittens are in trouble, little else seems to matter in the moment. The warrior bursts to a frenzy, his fur prickled tall. Cottonpaw has already done what she could to pull her back, and the others have sheltered her immediately. Later he will be grateful for all of their protectiveness. In a clan, it is care for their youth that ensures survival. Yet in this moment, he thinks only of Wolfsong's wound, a much smaller shape standing desperately before a beast. Blood-red wounds, lungs filled with aching breaths.

It is a grim reminder of who Rivekit is named for. He will not let her follow the path before her. The deputy joins Foxglare before their vulnerable, his teeth bared and body crouched as if prepared to spring. "Wolfsong!" he calls, though he does not look to the den behind him. "Count heads." Fogbound does what he can to intimidate the others, a foolish attempt he must force himself not to ridicule. His was not a battle of wits, but one of claws. There was more at stake than pride or petty possessions. They would fight and risk everything while doing so, or flee their home for the sake of another day. He understands now the choice that had been placed before those he had left behind, be it in graves or in mountain-snow.

"All of you will hold your tongues! Sootstar will decide what must be done."

𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕; 𝘚𝘜𝘕-𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌  ╱╱ 9.16.2023 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• ✦　　. 　 ˚　.   FORMERLY SUNNVAR. HE - HIM - HIS OR THEY - THEM. DEPUTY OF WINDCLAN. 4 YEARS OLD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  —————————
  
  
  ——  a tall auburn tabby with thick fur and bright glacial eyes. sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond it, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of them. he radiates confidence and self-assured authority.
  
  

  ✦ NPC x NPC. DECEASED MOTHER, ESTRANGED FATHER. NO LITTERMATES. MATE TO WOLFSONG. FATHER TO BEARKIT, SINGEDKIT, RIVEKIT, SUNLITKIT, AND FEATHERKIT ——

• "speech"

​

 

[Morningsong~]

Morningsong was enjoying a peaceful evening when the rogues came into camp. He rose to his paws immediately, bristling in surprise and anger. They come here and demand their camp, do they? The nerve. The audacity. He bore his teeth at the rogues in fury. It's a rare look on him, Morningsong always had a pleasant smile or a snide grin, never an extreme like this. Now was not the time for peacemaking or verbal warfare, however.

These mangeridden fleabags march into HIS home, threaten HIS family.... The re are kits here in camp, some of them his blood. He will not let this stand. He will NOT lose his home to these arrogant foxhearts. Blood makes him uneasy, but he knows when to push that feeling aside and now was one of those times.

He will not let his clan be driven away by rabble.

"Pinkkit, stay back." He tells her, stepping in front of her. His voice his firm, a tone he's never taken before. His gaze turns to the rogues. More of them have poured in, and he feels his nerves waver.

But he must stay strong. He will not....He will not be driven away. This is Windclan. They boast and brag about being the strongest and best clan like its their way of breathing. Surely even with so many sick, they can handle a bunch of rats like these.... Right?

"I'll send you to your graves for your audacity." He snarls.

He's relieved only slightly when Sunstride arrives. After he demands they hold their tongues, he remains quiet and obedient, but ready to pounce at a moments notice. These moors will never belong to scum such as these rogues. It feels wrong to think that way, considering the rogues they had brought in....But they weren't like these ones.

He hopes Sootstar hurries, he's sure these rogues won't be kind enough to wait too long.​

 

[SNAKEHISS]

It sends a shiver down Snakehiss's spine; the cackle can only be compared to that of a coyote or bird of sorts. However, it indeed comes from a cat — a skinny, scraggly, ratty, sad excuse of a cat. He had never heard anything so menacing-sounding. "Rogues...!" He hisses, gritting his teeth and taking a step backward. StarClan, where were they all coming from?

More shadowy forms follow in after the initial group of strangers, flooding WindClan's camp. They are skinny but starving — dogs drooling at the prospect of scraps. They were desperate and would fight like feral beasts, tooth and claw, to get what they wanted. That was what he had been taught by his parents growing up as they filled his impressionable young mind with stories of rogue fights and altercations on the open moorland.

Speaking of which, he sees his father out of the corner of his eye, drawing back with his hackles raised defensively. Snakehiss had never met a rogue before, at least not one that hadn't joined WindClan, but Shadowsight had a deep-rooted disdain for the lawless cats. They killed and stole, the thieves and barbarians. Now, they were trying to take over camp!

His viridian gaze whips toward the sight of Cottonpaw, though he dares not move. Snakehiss facing off against a big, monstrous cat would certainly be risky. Not even his wishes to impress the medicine cat apprentice would outweigh common sense. He couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed with Foxglare for jumping to Cottonpaw's defense; that harebrain could get himself hurt if he wanted to.

Now, it was time to wait for Sootstar's orders. Would an all-out bloodbath ensue? Death's metaphorical clock begins ticking down in his chest.

✰ INFO

• 
  
• 

  ✰ SNAKEHISS
  —— he/him; warrior ( moor runner ) of windclan
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[FINCHPAW! ☆]

╭──── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ─── ☀︎ ─── ･ﾟﾟ･｡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ────╮​

Tucked away safely in the nursery for the night, Finchkit finds herself wishing she was anywhere but there right now, sleepiness not even taking hold of her yet as she lays there, considering whether poking one of her littermates to see if they're awake, too. Bored as she is, the sound of voices outside doesn't quite take hold immediately, as it's not uncommon for others to still be out and about at this time, but they are being awful loud, aren't they? Quickly enough, voices turn to yelling, yowling, hissing, and then Pink-kit is gone, missing from her side to go investigate, and Finchkit won't stand for that! If Pink-kit gets to go outside and see what's going on, then she does, too, and so she slips away, slithering from Brightshine's side before her mama could snatch her back to go and take a peek at what lay outside the nursery.

She has to blink, and then blink again, at what awaits her - that's way too many cats, out there, and she doesn't even know who most of them are. Knowing cats is lots of fun, and even if she hasn't met everybody yet, there's no way that so many others could escape her notice for so long. Besides, they looked - kinda dingy, and not at all cool like a WindClanner should. Her thoughts are only cemented as he catches Rivekit yelling at them to leave, that this isn't where they belong, and it's not long before others join in the chorus, too, baring teeth and claws at these - these invaders. It doesn't click until Pink-kit's question, Bluepaw's answer, that this is something she knows, even if only in passing; these are the rogues that had plagued them as of late, had stolen prey and were the reason that she and the other kits had been denied access to the outside world.

Even as Bluepaw is dragging Rivekit back, berating her for getting so close, Finchkit is puffing up, too, upset with these outsiders thinking they could just waltz into camp with no consequences. "YEAH! Get outta here, or we'll - we'll make you!" she hollers in support, and she'd be marching over to try to follow in Rivekit's pawsteps if the fighting hadn't started, Cottonpaw and Foxglare facing off against some of the strangers, and though it's not enough to cow her entirely, it does give her pause. There are...a lot of them here, and they all look really mean. Featherkit is angry, too, though it seems to be directed at Rivekit and not at the strangers, and she suddenly feels uncomfortable, more than she'd ever been before. Sunstride arrives, Sootstar is called upon, but even that does nothing to untangle the knot in her stomach, staring out at the sea of unfamiliar faces. She merely presses up against Pink-kit's side, quieting down as she waits for the dam to break, for something important to happen.​

i want to spin something out of nothing - (☀︎) - lead to gold, spring from winter

• OOC: --​
• 
• 
  - Finch Finchkit
  - She/her (AFAB)
  - 3 moons
  - Loner Kit of WindClan
  - Hearty & scruffy chocolate lynx point with splashes of white and bright blue eyes
  - Art by Jay & base by googaoo respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​

 

[VENOMSTRIKE]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ His pelt prickles as he approaches with narrowed pupils, he had recovered from the smaller cuts the last rogue he had encountered and the fact that there was several of them now in their territory made his blood run cold for a moment. Where was Redpaw? Was Rattleheart safe? His jaw tightening as he stands near Bluepaw and Gravelsnap with both ears pinned against his skull, a soft growl rising from his throat and ready to protect the young ones and the rest of his clanmates if necessary. He's slightly stunned that none of the Windclanners strike their enemies and stays back when Sunstride approaches saying that Sootstar would have the final word. It would be a bloodbath, he's certain of it. He doubts that the moor queen would have them flee from the enemy that threatened to take their home.

He unsheathes his claws preparing for whatever is to come next but keeps attentive for his apprentice knowing that the russet tom shouldn't be too far or that's what he hopes, at least.

➷ HELL AND HIGH WATER, TO LAY HERE TOGETHER

• 
  ⁀➷ 44 moons old
  ⁀➷ windclan moor runner
  ⁀➷ bisexual homoromantic; single; padding after rattleheart
  ⁀➷ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ⁀➷ med difficultly in combat; relies on brute strength and his ability to quickly strike
  ⁀➷ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ⁀➷ penned by bosstaurus

​

 

[REDHEART]

Fear, screeches, and mud swirled through the tom's senses. Rousing him abruptly from a deep and cozy slumber. The apprentice's green eyes grew vibrantly wide as his pupils constricted to thin lines. Following suit his pelt crafted a ridge along his back as panic set in.

Scrambling paws acted well before Redpaw's own mind could catch up. He zipped from his nest, feathery tail waving behind as the red tabby raced towards the rising cacophony of caterwauls.

Turning sharply, he pounded the earth in desperation as both strangers and clanmates' yowls grew closer. Please, please, please— Shock overturned his scrunched expression, and haphazardly, he skidded to a flimsy halt, nearly falling sideways. His throat constricted, and chest shivered from an onslaught of crackling nerves. A starved and ugly menagerie of cats seemingly slunk in waves from out the shadows. Their fangs and dead-set eyes boring holes into Redpaw's very being. Everything felt like it had slowed and his heart thudded loudly.

Now that the young feline's gaze took in the circumstances before him, a newfound horror became reality. StarClan, no! Redpaw had arrived just as Sunstride called aloud orders. Frazzled and torn the mere glance of his mentor sent him hurriedly to the burly cat's side.

Taking mental note of his caretaker's furious gaze and intimidating claws, the smaller mimicked their stance. Quickly understanding the vulnerable scenerio at play. Unsheathing his own less fearsome claws he stared down the intruders. Attempting his best at obeying Sunstride and hiding the fear gnashing at his insides. The tension and desire to spat was quelled by chewing his own cheek. Not daring to repeat his previous offense.

However, a small voice in the tabbies mind prayed this could end peacefully, but he wasn't a complete fool; these rogues meant business.


//Please forgive the mobile post - will be edited later​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR​

Gravelsnap finds her as she’s departing from her den with a bristling pelt. The leader had not left the comfort of the shadows since Weaselclaw died, luckily today she had not decided to improve. The clan was lucky to have her in camp. Gravelsnap recieves a nod before she pads around them, the scent of rogue already thick as they swarm her camp. It was blatant how outnumbered she was, but even so the option of fleeing does not even cross her mind. Sootstar doesn’t care. The clan will die here before they flee their home- there was nowhere else for them. ”You’ve made a mistake coming here.” She warns in all seriousness despite the odds against her clan. ”WindClan, kill them all!” Racing forward, Sootstar aims to slash her claws against the shoulder of a rogue. If fast enough on her paws she tries to duck and avoid a potential power attack before reaching forward again to rake her opponents soft belly.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• (Sootstar will be convinced to retreat eventually)
• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[mothmoon]

( ✧ ) with the way windclan is outnumbered, one would imagine fear to be the driving force behind mothmoon's actions. however truthfully, she is rather doubtful the rogues have any ground to stand on. as she bristles beside her former mentor, she itches to spring, dark eyes glimmering with bloodlust and anger. "crowfood has no place ordering windclan around," she spits, pretty face furrowed in a snarl. sootstar's voice rings from outside her den, more steady than moth has heard in quite some time as she orders the attack. a grin spreads across the young warrior's maw and she surges forward. a pale gray she-cat paces and growls, fur spiked in a threat, but as mothmoon bowls her over, she yowls in surprise. claws flash up to cut through the windclanner's skin and the girl dances out of the way, bringing her paws down to attempt to crush the windpipe of the offender. the rogue chokes, writhing in pain and fear, and mothmoon feels a sharp sting of satisfaction. starclan has sent her strength, the ability to eviscerate these interlopers for daring to enter windclan land. claws slide out, pricking into the gray molly's throat as she struggles for breath.

it is right as the eyes are beginning to bulge from the rogue's skull that mothmoon is suddenly thrown backward, the breath knocked out of her as she hits the ground with a hard thump. a hulking black tomcat stands over her, eyes of poison flashing in the half-light as he growls. the windclanner writhes under him, lashing out slender paws to cut through his skin on his chest, desperate to hit deep enough to wound the man. behind him, the gray she-cat clambers to her paws, coughing and furious. there is an unfamiliar wrenching feeling in mothmoon's belly as impossibly long claws sink deep into her shoulders. a yowl escapes her lips involuntarily as she thrashes about wildly. windclanners are known for their speed, their quick tongues and quicker claws, but one thing they are not known for is their size. the molly is tall but slender, perfect for running, disastrous when pinned in battle. the gray rogue circles her friend, a laugh bubbling from her throat and mothmoon begins to choke.

// edit - to be rescued by @SOOTSPOT she is currently pinned and slowly suffocating, but still trying to fight. ​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── His heart is in his throat— no, his heart is attempting to challenge rogues, a mere stripling before the forest, and Bluepaw's intervention allows Wolfsong room to breathe as he emerges fully from the medicine den. Featherkit is with his sister, and Wolfsong does not hesitate to dart forward and drag them both back to the mouth of the medicine den. His mate's voice carries over the beginning chorus of taunts, and Wolfsong ushers his kits back into the den, taking stock of each small face. Is this what my mother felt that night? Did she look at my kitten paws and think only of what she would give for them?

Outside, Sootstar howls and Wolfsong inhales deeply. "Listen to me," he says to his children, his rasping voice grave and his eye solemn. "I will not tolerate foolish bravery from any of you. This is not a battle you will fight." His gaze lingers on Rivekit in particular, stern. "You will do as I tell you. If I tell you to run, do not stop and wait for me or your father."

He looks to Icebreath, the current patient on bedrest. "You will stay with me as well," he tells them firmly. "You are in no position to fight with these beasts." Wolfsong does not tell her she needs to conserve her strength if they must retreat— though with the number of rogues he glimpsed, it is very likely.

@Bearkit @FEATHERKIT @rivekit @sunlitkit @icebreath ​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[FOGBOUND]

your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Fogbound might be wired with unresolved anger, but that certainly didn’t make him an idiot. He didn’t need to see that this would end poorly, but that didn’t stop him from baring his teeth like a rabid animal, grinning when he saw faces crumble, anger building with the sheer will to sink his claws into something, whether that was a prey or someone’s neatly groomed pelt. It mattered little.

His lips curled, ruby optics blazing at Sootstar’s call for battle. He supposed it would be the death of them all, but perhaps the less-talented would be spared their blood if the rogues just so happened to focus on the ones who bared themselves up like fruit on a platter, bravery was honorable, but it was incredibly stupid. Right now? Fogbound couldn’t help but lean into his primal instincts, sensing his old apprentice just beside him gave him a small confidence boost, not that he needed it, of course.

“Tsk.” He surged forward on weakened legs, shouldering the nearest rogue, teeth bared in a low guttural growl that rippled, rattling his chest. The rogue was of similar size, far more muscular than him, and healthy in every aspect, unlike the moor runner running on fumes. He pivoted on unsteady paws, grinning mischievously, letting his adrenaline fuel his attacks, teeth sinking into the rogue’s throat with rigid claws digging into the other’s side, drawing a pained-tinged yowl from the brown-furred rogue. He would have pulled the other’s paws from beneath him if he had the strength, but his victory was cut short as the other slammed him into the ground, knocking the breath out of his lungs.

“Touche.” He grinned, maw painted ichor, struggling to pull in any air when white-hot agony sunk into his flank, biting back a pain-filled snarl, muzzle crinkling when hot, fowl breath fanned across a nicked cheek, teeth threatening to sink into his exposed throat. “I dare you.” He seethed, chest sputtering with a cough, ruby optics blazing.

/ feel free to help him !​

​

thought speech​