RESISTANCE — settling in

[BLUEFROST]

◇────────────【☆】★【☆】────────────◇​

XXXXXHowlingstar and Flycatcher had led WindClan not to their camp, but to a hollow in the forest floor with a sifting, sandy bottom. The gray she-cat gives her closest Clanmate a sour look. “They do not trust us,” she observes, though she reserves her judgment for now. She would not have trusted them in her territory, either, after all. The hollow is large enough, though she still feels alien in a forest so thick. Her green eyes try to find the stars, and through the enormous reaching oaks, she spots a few speckles. Her throat tightens. And you have abandoned WindClan, my mother says. Why haven’t you proven her wrong?

XXXXXShe curls her tail around her paws, now listening to the unnerving sounds of the forest at night singing about them. Crickets, she thinks uncertainly, mixed with the shrill cry of cicadas and—she thinks—the ominous hooting of an owl. Bluepaw’s fur bristles at her neck and shoulders, and she turns to another cat with alarm glowing in her green eyes. “They have set us next to a den of owls,” she hisses, though she cannot be certain. It had sounded close, but perhaps the acoustics of the forest, the dense undergrowth and the pressing of trees all about her, has made it sound closer than it is.

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[icebreath]

Though she's lying down, Icebreath hasn't been able to relax since arriving in the forest. Since long before that, really. They're on enemy territory, regardless of ThunderClan's present lack of overt hostility, and it is so incredibly alien. Tall trees surround them on every side, dense undergrowth caging them into the hollow. She wouldn't necessarily call it claustrophobic; she's used to the tunnels' narrow passageways, after all. But she knows the underground like the back of her paw --- every potential threat is something she's studied throughout her career. There's a strategy for everything the tunnels have to offer. Here, they feel like a fish out of water; these woods are entirely unknown, as are the cats lurking within them, and it's impossible to spot oncoming threats from a distance. Doing her best to ignore their throbbing forepaw, they gaze out into the forest, unsure of what exactly they're looking for.

Pale eyes turn to Bluepaw as she speaks up. Icebreath is too weary to feel the usual nerves she associates with Sootstar's kin, even if she is the leader's apprentice on top of being her daughter. "Do you trust them?" they ask in a bland tone, resting their chin on their paws. It isn't long before they shift their position, though, as the pressure worsens her pain. They follow the younger molly's gaze upward, toward the sky. The canopy obscures the stars and they mentally kick themselves for feeling upset about it. StarClan abandoned us, remember? she thinks miserably.

"I don't think any sane owl would wanna get near a whole clan of cats," she reasons after a moment. Still, though, the lynx point glances around warily.
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[SUNNVAR]

✦　　. 　 ˚　.   Despite himself, he laughs. They are on strange, unfamiliar ground, suffering with a great many things– and now they will complain of owls. Such a strange thing. Ridiculous, yet pleasant in its way. There is familiarity in being given things to do. To worry is to keep himself sane, and that– that is what they must cling to in times such as this. He has yet to settle entirely, walking about without the intensity of pacing nor the ease of mindlessness. The noises of it all...it reminds him more of home than the moors ever had, though far enough removed to remain unfamiliar. Their trees had been different. Their animals different. The very ground beneath their paws, different. And all he can do about it now is laugh.

That one short sound, broken by a noise of its own. "They will go for the weakest of us." Owls, he means, but there is much that it applies to beyond that. "Our kits are safe, at least. In camp. I do not believe we need to worry." Perhaps that is why he cannot settle. They are not with him now. Wolfsong or their litter. Tucked far from where he can see, amidst the strange scents of ThunderClan. At least his mate is with them, though that is a problem in itself. Howlingstar had not allowed him any closer than this, not even to ensure that they made it there safely. Her lack of trust is understandable yet aching. They have been through too much for him to relax this far from their sides.

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"

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[Gooseberry]

Annoyance is what leaps at Gooseberry’s pelt more than anything. His nerves are as on edge as everyone else’s, but he is angry still that a rogue got the better of him, and he was forced to flee. He just can’t wrap his head around someone so much more insignificant getting the upper hand. He is weak, weak, but even so…he could have finished them off! Surely he could have! He wasn’t dead yet!

He doesn’t attempt to hide his frustration, as it radiates off of him. At least he is not alone in his feelings, as there’s bickering in their temporary living space. He doesn’t gleam much of the conversation at hand, until Sunstride brings up how his mate and kits are in the safety of the camp, meanwhile the rest of them are left to scrape by. He huffs, letting his irritation ring out verbally.

“That’s a nice sentiment and all, but do the rest of us really have to tolerate this treatment?” It’s more of a rhetorical question, as there’s no way fighting their way into camp would be smart. Lest they get booted entirely and have to deal with whatever else they could find outside of clan territory, as he cannot picture any other clan being willing. More rogues is just what they would need…​

 

[hollowcreek]

Instability had become a sullen constant that rolled over WindClan like the breeze across the moors. The stars had not picky with who they claimed, their paws clutched for kits, queens and warriors alike. Hollowcreek had never understood it, the comfort that the starry cats provided his Clanmates. He had watched them worship and obsess moon after moon, beg and cry to the skies for mercy and greatness. For peace and victory.

Truly he felt the forest had held no difference than before all that blood that spilled itself over in Fourtrees. They still hungered in leafbare, still crawled from their starvation in new-leaf, thrived and rejoiced with full bellies in greenleaf, and worried to prepare in leaf-fall. Claws still clashed against fur and teeth still bared at a threat. Was he supposed to fall in line because a few cats could rise from the dead? Their powers stopped at a pawful of those able to lead and he found himself unimpressed still.

Hollowcreek was not brainless, though. He played the pretender to earn the trust of his counterparts, joined them in their prayer and announced his devotion just as loudly as any other. He didn't have to believe the words that spilled from his maw, but as long as everyone else did, that is all that mattered. Though now their Queen denounced the very stars that led her through four resurrections.

"Whine like a kit all you must, it won't get you in the warmth of their nursery." Hollowcreek's bored stare did not even glance in Gooseberry's direction instead focused on keeping the sand out from between his claws. His voice is level, reflecting his unamused expression."You should have more faith in what your deputy says. Howlingstar has kept our Medicine Cat, his mate and children, a good distance away yet he does not mewl."​

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"speech"​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw is largely silent as her Clanmates chitter along. Her sister and former mentor discuss that of the owls that exist among them, likely peering at them from the thick canopy above. Meanwhile others find solace and jealousy in that their queens and young have been allowed to rest within a sturdy-made camp, whilst they've only been allotted ground that sifts underfoot. As much as Cottonpaw understands the wariness, she still notches it as another slight against her, personally.

Yet like Sunstride, she finds the space in her chest to laugh as Hollowcreek chooses to bicker with Gooseberry. She supposes WindClanners will always be such, even with the moors all too far away. Her tail draws in around her torso, "You should fall ill with kittens, Gooseberry," she suggests, "Maybe then the ThunderClanners will feed and house you, too. New laws, 'nd all." A chill catches her shoulders and she purses her lips, though her smile hardly leaves. Like others, she has the steadfast reminder of StarClan no longer aligning with the WindClanners they've guided before. Though unlike others, it's not all sad for her. It's almost freeing, though she'd not admit it so readily.​

 

[Addervenom]

An arrogant huff billows from the striped tom's nostrils in response to Bluepaw's words. He is hardly bothered by the forest dweller's lack of trust in them, for he would not trust them either. Truth be told he was far from grateful to even be here. "I do not understand how they tolerate such darkness looming overhead." Only scattered patches of starlight filtered through the dense branches above, effectively choking out the amount of light coming through. Where is your mercy starclan? Your favor?" He thinks to himself. Narrowed amber eyes continue to peer through the canopy. "He says we are cursed..." Cottonpaw's eerie words chant again within his mind and for a moment he pins his littermate with a look, wondering if the stars have proclaimed otherwise.

The thick of his tail wraps around his paws in his attempt to settle in, opting to yet again push away the haunting words. What will we do for food? I doubt thunderclan has given us free range to hunt their turf." Addervenom mutters, tossing his gaze around the group. Would it even be safe to go back near their own hunting grounds? ​

»»———- windclan warrior / nine moons old / he/him ———-««​

 

[FOGBOUND]

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

The forest reminded him of harsher times, struck with betrayal for raw that even Fogbound couldn’t help but fall to its clutches. Darker times, indeed, but the smokey tom had a family to take care of. The eldest out of four.

He was healing, as slow of a process as it was, annoying, but nothing he couldn’t manage when he caught his clanmate's voices. His tail curled in amusement, ruby gaze narrowing. “I’m sure the forest dwellers will allow us some privileges, as much as it would thrill them to see the end of WindClan, I suppose their sympathetic nature won’t let them.” He mused, tapping his claws idly. “Hunting is at odds with us, unlike the open moor.” He murmured, voice idle. The clans were suffering. The additional cats, no doubt, would end badly, taking double than before. He wondered if this was the end, driven out and starved to death, or would fights break out as a last resort?

His mind prickled, glancing around, humming. He opted to pull away from such gruesome thoughts to light-hearted ones ( by his own definition, anything to tease the tunnelers about ). If an owl were to come, picking the smallest to cart off into their nests to feast upon, Fogbound had his mind set on the tunnelers. He wondered how RabbitClaw would take the news, grinning with such mirth that she would be one of the first to become food. ​

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thought speech​

 

[RABBITCLAW]

"It would be stupid for them not to let us hunt. For that reason they should've just turned us away instead of let us stay here besides the kits and all. Doubt Thunderclan would want to bring their warriors or apprentices to give us food." Where was she? She had been laying next to the group of chattering cats, eyes closed. Healing demanded rest and that's what she was trying to do. The more she rested the quicker she should be to top shape. Well... As much as one could get during these circumstances. Bluepool is correct in saying that Thunderclan doesn't trust them, but is that really so surprising? It's not like they had a good reputation and wasn't it Thunderclan who warned Skyclan of their ambush? It was clear since then that Thunderclan wasn't their ally and the only reason why they were allowed here was if anything for the kits and queens.

She did chuckle internally at Cottonpaw reprimanding Gooseberry for his words as well as Hollowcreek. "Listen Goosey, we're like the most despised clan. Other than that, wasn't Thunderclan the ones to help Skyclan when we tried ambushing them? We aren't exactly friends y'know, we're lucky they even let us stay here. If you got a problem speak to Howlingstar herself." With a yawn she stretches her limbs and opens her eyes to look at her clanmates. "Personally I prefer to be here than in Thunderclan camp." The tension would be insane. We'd always be watched. I would hate to be in Thunderclan camp only to be followed all the time or something.

 

[Gooseberry]

Gooseberry almost has half a mind to snap back at Rabbitclaw for calling him “Goosey” on top of getting reprimanded by Hollowcreek and an apprentice, but he just huffs instead and lets her talk. He wasn’t entirely being serious anyways, but it seems his strait-laced face has come to haunt him again. Clearly asking ThunderClan for more would be a mistake, and he would be the last cat to do it.

“You’re right, the last thing I would want is for ThunderClan to spread their stink onto me even more,” he mumbles in agreement. “And I wouldn’t stoop so low as to pretend to be a kit again. Or carry my own, which I can’t even do. Not that I would if I could… I’m happy some of us are safe, truly.” He could admit that he’s just not in a good mood and hungry and therefore snappy, but he won’t. Not like the others aren’t in the same boat.​

 

[SNAKEHISS]

This was a WindClanner's worst nightmare.

Fierce and headstrong, the moor-dwellers have now been utterly defeated. Their camp was now overrun with beastly, greedy, and stinking rogues. Snakehiss finds himself frustrated, anger seeping through his aura and burning into the ground with each step. What good were the rogues that Sootstar took in if they couldn't even defend WindClan from their own kind?! Snakehiss had assumed that their sheer muscle and brutishness would come in handy someday, but he had thought wrong. Now, they were displaced and humiliatingly seeking refuge in ThunderClan's land.

The others discuss the kits, how they along with Wolfsong are probably more cozy dwelling elsewhere. Perhaps if Snakehiss possessed more of an endearment for the little snot-nosed brats, he'd be more vocal about any skepticism of keeping them in ThunderClan's camp. However, the forest-dwellers could keep them for eternity for all he cared. It was certainly quieter without them disrupting the flow of things.

It doesn't take long for WindClan's resident snob to open his maw and start complaining, "This place is dreadful. The sand keeps getting in between my toes." A sneer of distaste forms upon his muzzle as he flexes his paws before aggressively shaking out the tiny grains that were lodged into the crevices.

Snakehiss heaved a sigh, twitching the end of his tail before meowing, "Howlingstar has never been interested in aiding WindClan before." His eyes narrow, shifting his gaze toward the direction of ThunderClan's camp. He pauses for a moment, thinking, pondering. "I'll bet that old fool just wants something out of Sootstar — a debt to be repaid, now that we are at our weakest." ThunderClan could fool everyone else into believing they were some noble and benevolent force, but Snakehiss heavily suspected otherwise. Surely even Howlingstar had underlying, selfish desires of her own. Most cats did. "I don't trust them one bit."

✰ INFO

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  ✰ 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

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[icebreath]

They frankly don't understand what about this conversation Sunstride finds amusing, or how he can find it in himself to laugh at a time like this, but they aren't in the business of questioning their superiors so they don't dwell on it (even though they would judge anyone else). "I'm glad ThunderClan let them stay in their camp, at least," Icebreath replies, but she looks and sounds hesitant, as if she doesn't fully believe what she's saying. "You don't think... ThunderClan will hold them hostage, do you?" Their eyes are childishly wide as they gaze up at the deputy. Quite honestly, Icebreath doesn't know what lengths they would go to. She's familiar with SkyClan and RiverClan's brutish ways thanks to the many conflicts WindClan has had with them, but ThunderClan is comparatively a mystery to the tunneler.

Moments pass before they start to fear they might worry Sunstride with their musing; she can imagine how stressed he must already be, with his mate and kits so far away, in an unfamiliar camp. Still, ignoring the possibility feels irresponsible. Icebreath falls quiet with anxiety as the rest of their clanmates continue to talk amongst themselves, their attention going in and out for a little while before they chime in again. "This darkness is nothing compared to the tunnels," she idly comments, grateful to be used to a more claustrophobic environment unlike the moor runners. "Oh, on that note I'm sure the tunnelers could probably keep hunting safely underground. Right?"

They go quiet again, this time listening to their clanmates with nothing of their own to add, until Snakehiss starts whining. I'm surprised it took him this long. She's never liked the younger warrior, but despite that and her internal derision she understands it this time; everyone has the right to be complaining right now. Though as he goes on, she finds herself to be in more agreement than she'd expected -- more than she probably ever had before. "I think you're right. I don't trust them, either. I won't be surprised if they ambush us when we aren't expecting it -- they have us right where they want us."
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