camp ROUGH TIME OF YEAR // o, thinking

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Tybalt sat at the edge of the camp, gazing out into the territory. Skyclaw was gone now, and the camp was quiet again, with his allies all gone too. Tybalt kept his jaw clenched, grinding his teeth as he tried not to think about the scar over his throat, the one the rogue warrior had given him. After Skyclaw had attacked him, the other rogue warriors had descended upon him like dogs. He had tried to fight them off, tried to get to Skyclaw, to kill the traitor himself after he'd refused to eat the poisoned mouse.

But he had failed. And worse, more foul and dishonorable than dying would have been--he had fled. Intent on coming back, to fight for ThunderClan with stronger backing--and he had come back to fight them off. He hadn't wanted to embolden Skyclaw by allowing him to kill him. He thought of every fight of his youth. Fights for food and territory. The fight that had killed his father--attempting to fight off a fox that was trying to steal their rabbit. Iago had died. The fox had gotten the prey, the taste of cat blood satisfying his appetite. But Iago had died honorably, fighting to preserve what had been rightfully his.

And Tybalt had fled. Fled with intent to return, but fled. He had run away. Not out of fear for his own life, but fear of the loss of ThunderClan. He had spent his entire life determined to be remembered as a dead hero instead of a live coward. His attempt on Skyclaw's life had failed. What did that make him? Perhaps not a live coward, but a live failure. And when you got right down to it, what difference did it make?

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Shame hangs from Raccoonstripe's pelt like stormwater; every step he takes away from his nest and into the clearing his mother had once reigned, he feels a part of him ebb away like sand from a riverbank. His dark gaze lingers on the base of the Highrock, where Flamestar had cast Skyclaw to his broken death; when he does, his mouth fills with saliva that is thick and metallic like blood from his kin's throat.

Stagstrike had failed to kill Skyclaw, but Raccoonstripe had emboldened him for many moons. The tabby had turned a blind eye to the kittypet jeers, had ignored the venom that had begun to simmer beneath his nephew's dark fur. Perhaps he'd been so blind to it because of his own ambitions; perhaps he'd walked the line too closely himself. Either way, Skyclaw had spit at him, "I admired you!", and Raccoonstripe had killed him.

He does not know if it is his sister he has failed, his mother, his brother, or the bulk of his Clan, but part of him feels that it is all of that and more. Raccoonstripe's jaws are heavy, both with guilt he cannot face and with the crow he'd plucked from the fresh-kill pile. He drops it before Stagstrike with a tired smile. "Care to share? I could use some company." The two toms share more, in truth, than a boldly-feathered bird, but neither will likely put a name to it — not out loud.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 45 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Thistlepaw ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
  — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
  — currently mated to Nightbird.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.

​

 

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Tybalt's ears pricked as Raccoonstripe approached and dropped the bird before him. He wasn't sure if he wanted company, but he'd grown to like the tabby over the past few moons. "Sure," he sighed, realizing he hadn't eaten since the night before. "Why not?" He wrapped his tail over his paws as he leaned down to take a bite of the crow, chewing silently for a time and waiting for Raccoonstripe to take a bite.

Howlingstar had been Raccoonstripe's mother. Skyclaw his nephew, and Raccoonstripe had been the one to kill him. Tybalt had had no littermates, no kin except his parents. He had been close to both of them, they had been all he and each other had had. Could he have done what Raccoonstripe had had to, if Skyclaw had been his kin? He had never thought about it, and he had no answer for himself. Perhaps if he had not failed, Raccoonstripe could have been spared the anguish.

Tybalt swallowed, realizing that he had been chewing the same piece of meat for far too long. He lifted his gaze, though didn't turn to look at the other warrior as he spoke. "I'm sorry," he finally said. He was unsure what he was apologizing for. The loss of Howlingstar? The loss of Raccoonstripe's kin? His own failure? Perhaps all of it. "About all of...this."

 

[Dwindlingmoth]

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊ Many had tried to end Skyclaw's takeover early, though words, teeth, and claws all had failed. He'd wormed his way into many of the strongest cats hearts so they wouldn't oppose him and poisoned the rest with his cunning words. At least Stagstrike had tried while she didn't do anything to help, even when Flamestar ordered everyone to take their home back. Her lightly healed wounds on her back ache as a consistent reminder of her own failures and she rubbed them lightly with her tail.

Dwindlingpaw unceremoniously inserts her company onto the duo, curling up in a patch of grass near Stagstrike. Watching the trees dance on the wind and the sky roll by as it has always done. She sparingly glanced from one tom to the other before clearing her throat. " Don't blame yourself for the actions of others. Nobody could have expected it nor stopped it."

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  Dwindlingpaw— She/Her ･ 8 moons ･ Thunderclan apprentice･ PENNED BY @Ghostunes!

  ☀︎ A charismatic colorful array of cream orange and red fur shaped like an apprentice.
  ☀︎ Crimsonsun x Shadedmoon
  ☀︎ Tags​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Raccoonstripe sits in silence as Stagstrike's teeth venture toward the bird, as he takes his first bite of their shared meal. The tawny warrior tells him, "I'm sorry. About all of... this." The tabby dips his head for a moment, pondering. "I am, too." He's tired of feeling like the world has gotten away from him, like time has eluded the grasping clutch of his claws. He's tired of looking at the leader's den and seeing Skyclaw's spectre, the ghastly image of his mate, instead of his mother.

He's tired of the blood in his mouth.

"There is plenty for some of us to be sorry for," he murmurs to Dwindlingpaw, who in the banality of her youth tries to reassure the pair of warriors. Still, he does not want to spill his guilt, his grief, over the pair of them; they do not deserve that. His mouth twitches, and he goes to take a bite of the bird.

Things will be okay, he tells himself. He thinks of Nightbird, of Bayingkit crying for Howlingstar, of the blaze of fury in Skyclaw's eyes, and swallows the meat in his mouth. It settles in his stomach like stone, but it's all part of the process — he knows this, by now. He knows it well.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 45 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Thistlepaw ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
  — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
  — currently mated to Nightbird.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.

​

 

[DOESPRING]

"Feeling sorry isn't going to help us," comes the biting remark upon the wallowing of the crowd, but if one cares enough to turn their heads, they would notice the lack of real heat in Doespring's eyes.

It is entirely by chance she comes across them; has just came across the entrance after a routine walk through the territory, attention ever-focused on the possibility of history repeating itself. A strange feeling settles upon Doespring each and every time she goes out... there is no real reason to keep glancing over her shoulder anymore, but old habits die hard. Tyranny has only helped reinforce them.

For that reason, Doespring doesn't find it in herself to reprimand her Clanmates for seeking solace in their own pain. Her gaze is narrowed as she looks at them — Raccoonstripe especially, for authority figures don't look nearly as sympathetic in this state —, but there is almost a degree of softness to her voice, in that special way that she can afford to give. It is entirely new. "The most we can do now is to keep going. It's the least we can do for those who we've lost."
​

 

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Tybalt gave Dwindlingpaw's shoulder a flick with his tail. "That's kind of you to say," he rumbled quietly. She was young. She had much to learn still, and even if none of them could have expected it, there had been signs from the start, however small. They could have done...something. More than they had, at least. He took another reluctant bite of the prey in front of him, chewing it far longer than was needed as he sat.

"I should have tried harder to get rid of him," he murmured, more to himself than any of those beside him. He tucked his chin briefly against his neck, as though briefly hiding the scar across his throat would be enough to get it to vanish all together. A cruel reminder of his failure. "If I had maybe waited longer to try and get him to eat the mouse...moved out of his way a bit faster. I could have killed him before he clawed me. Or at least done more damage to him. I never should have...left." He spat the last word after a moment's pause, disgust and shame prickling his pelt as he spoke, too disgusted with his own failure to use the real words for what he had done: run away.

His ears pinned back against his head as Doespring spoke, and his lip curled as he turned to snap at her, but the tom faltered as he met her gaze. It wasn't an expression of malice, and after a moment Tybalt turned his head back to the food in front of him with only a small nod of acknowledgment.