run boy run — duo introduction

[SMOKEFANG]

.people say that —————————

————————— i am heartless.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

HE CURSED, SHOOTING HIS BROTHER A HEATED GLARE AS HE BRUSHED PAST a rotten log, racing through the undergrowth with practiced ease. His nostrils flared in quips of anger and puffs of breath that he managed to suck in during their flee. His calloused paw pads slapped the rough terrain, flying past familiar territory as the mutt gave chase, barreling after the two fleeing cats—keyword, mostly. He puffed out his cheeks, snarling. Damnit, Castor. You had to antagonize the damn mutt.

The light blue-eyed male shot a glance over his shoulder, noting Castor’s location, mind-calming at the proximity. Good. His muscles tensed, springing forward with a snarl. How to lose the damn thing before—Pollux snarled. Not gonna happen. He would make damn sure it reached no one in camp.

Besides. It wasn’t that big of a mutt. He didn’t doubt their skills as warriors to fend it off, even if it left them with tender flesh. All in a day’s work. He thought dryly, rolling light-hued optics. After this, I’m wringing Castor’s damn neck.

A deep, vibrating growl ripped out from his throat, gaze flashing in agitation. He sure wanted to spin around to latch onto the mangy mutt, but he couldn’t risk Castor getting hurt. Pollux knew well enough he’d see red if he let his younger brother get hurt—even if Castor was only younger by a few minutes. Still. Pollux was older, and it was his responsibility when Youkai wasn’t around, but even then, Smokefang made damn sure his brother was safe from his stupid ideas. This being one of them.

“Castor?!” He snapped, gaze rapidly scanning the area, looking for something to help aid them. His brows furrowed at the lack of a reply, only to hear a yelp that made his blood run cold. Skidding to a stop, the obsidian-hued brute whipped around, zeroing in on his brother’s crumpled form.

A low, guttural growl vibrated from deep within his chest, optics blazing. Damnit, Pollux. He degraded himself, charging forward with bared teeth. “You’re going to regret that asshole—” The obsidian-smoked brute all but sneered, darkened lips quirking into a manic grin as he slammed into the yipping canine, ridged claws digging into tender flesh.

His heart sang in glee at the terrified squeals, teeth latching onto the dog’s scruff until it flung him away, scampering off with its tail between its legs. The male growled, hackle rising along the lengths of his spine in tandem with the bristling of his willowy tail.

Muscles continued to sing with energy, spitting out a mouthful of rancid fur, nose scrunching up in distaste until his mind reeled back. Castor! Shit. Hurrying over towards his brother with a worried trill, so unlike his usual cold-hearted appearance. His chest heaved with each intake of air, nose burrowing into the other’s fur, taking in the familiar, rich scent he’d grown accustomed to. Damnit, Castor. You better be okay.

Fear pooled into the depths of his stomach, watching Castor lay, sprawled out with an audible whine, muscles twitching beneath his black coat. “You idiot.” Smokefang hissed, teeth gritting at the lazed smile Castor adored. “You idiot.” He gritted out.

The obsidian-hued tom flickered back where the canine fled, darkened lips curling in a sneer. “Bastard.” He muttered, Light blue optics shifting to watch his brother with a scowl, nudging the other harshly.

thoughts speech​

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[SHADOWFIRE]

.fight it, or accept it —————————

————————— fear it, or control it.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

THE AMBER-HUED MALE WASN’T SURE WHAT WENT WRONG, but he supposed it was the assumption the canine was chained up. He winced, grinning cheekily to himself as the brothers tore through the undergrowth with the mutt hot on their heels. If we make it out of this alive, I’m taking this to my grave. He shivered at the thought of the others finding out what had actually happened compared to the story he was conjuring up. Fuck no. Over his dead body! Which … might be sooner than he thought. Shit’s fucked. He thought humourlessly, snickering.

He caught Pollux’s sharp blue optics flickering over his shoulder, feeling warmth pool into his stomach. Awww, he cares! Every so often he’d offer a reassuring grin despite the beads of blood that dotted his cheek, meshing into the white and black fur. He bit back a wince, amber optics scrunching up in pain, ignoring the worried look Pollux sent his way. Nothing but a scratch. It wasn’t deep, just hurt like a bitch. Stupid mangy claws. His cheeks puffed, wincing at the twinge of pain. Yeah, okay, don’t do that.

… I look like a chipmunk.

Castor snorted at the odd thought, darkened lips curling into a subtle grin as he sailed past familiar undergrowth, willowy tail flickering. Almost home! He couldn’t help the chirp that escaped past his lips, unaware of the mutt closing in on his frame until he was sailing, side connecting with the rough bark of a tree drawing a startled ( painful ) yelp from his parted maw.

The black and white tom whined, laying sprawled out on the ground, wheezing with each intake of air. Ow. Ow. Ow. Son of a bitch that hurt. He thought, head pulsating from the hard hit he took after slamming into the tree.

His amber optics blinked sluggishly, watching Pollux, but not really watching. Castor wasn’t really sure what was happening, not realizing he’d closed his eyes. Huh? When did I–?

His brows furrowed, becoming increasingly aware of the soft nudges and familiar scent he’d known all his life. Pollux–? His mind hazily suggested, amber optics blinking sluggishly, watching his brother with a lazy hum. “‘M fine.” He mumbled.

“Did … you just—?” Call me a bastard? Castor wanted to say but talking didn’t seem very appealing, especially with the pounding headache that was coming on. “‘M sorry.” He mumbled, ignoring the breath of relief that rustled the fur along his cheeks, tickling his nose.

“‘M not an idiot.” He mumbled, cheeks puffing out.

thoughts speech​

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[ThistleBack]

Curses bounce in the air, tangle and clash. Thistleback’s focus on the ground, scouting for traps and leading his apprentice through the brambles like a pair of snakes is brought abruptly to a standstill. He peers towards the brothers, he can smell sweat- hear long breaths as though they had run quickly. The yelp of a dog, squawks sharply through the woods. Thistleback hisses and his hackles lift, but it seemed the hound was retreating.

The muscled lead trots with high steps towards the scene, as it would first seem- Castor was sprawled across the ground injured. This brother nudging him. " This is the second dog in one bloody moon " he growls, wondering if the upwalkers were sending their dogs in to catch cats now.

" are we alright? let’s see then- " he looks between the two with a step closer.

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OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  Thirty-seven 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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[LICHENTHROAT]

With the lead warrior, Lichenthroat's hackles raise. He does not like to come so closely to this border, but when it was ordered of him, there was very little Lichenthroat would not do. Today it might just be the worst of choices– his loyalty would mean little within a hound's throat. But there is a shriek of a wounded beast before anything breaks through the barrier of their foliage, and he gusts out a breath he did not know he was holding. It would have pleased him more to turn back on the two that had scrambled in, but that is before he recognizes them as warriors. His long tail swishes just slowly across the ground, feathery fur catching on various leaves. There is no other sign of his remaining discomfort, or his irritation with the two.

He circles past the others, towards where the dog's sound had come from. Watchful and wary, pacing along the treeline. "You're sure that it's gone?" They'd do much better now, with the whole of them grouped up, but he does not trust dogs or the strength of those that had suffered. Occasionally his remaining eye would fixate on them, and a severe look would cross his face, but it is not long before Lichenthroat is examining their surroundings again.

˗ˏˋ〚  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〛´ˎ˗

• ooc: —
• 
  ──── lichenthroat, with lichen predating the clans, and -throat referring to his distinct marking. an adult, ages the 1st.
  ──── warrior of skyclan, and previous member of the pine group. dislikes (most) daylight warriors and kittypets on sight.
  ──── dmab. uses he - him or occasionally they - them pronouns. single; his sexuality is unknown and undiscussed.
  ──── i should note that all his opinions are in character. ^^;
  
  
  
  
  
  a tall, deceptively sturdy long-haired tom with soft, curly white fur smattered by deep, watery blue around his chest. he has large, conical, slightly tufted ears, long legs, and a massive feathery tail.
• "speech"

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[SMOKEFANG]

.people say that —————————

————————— i am heartless.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

THE LIGHT BLUE-EYED BRUTE TENSED, HEAD TILTING, STARING AT THE TWO warriors with furrowed brows, darkened lips curled into a frown, covering up the wave of relief at Castor’s semi-coherent speech. He offered a grunt to Thistleback, gaze flickering to watch Lichenthroat with a critical hue. “Doubt it’ll come here anytime soon.” His tail flickered, lips curled into a feral grin, gaze bleeding murderous. “If it does, I’ll rip its damn eyes out.” He muttered, muzzle scrunching up with an inaudible growl. He’d make sure of it.

His attention drifted down to his brother, head lowered to give the amber-hued tom a simple nudge to his exposed shoulder. “Walking?” His tone was deadpan, staring at the mumbling tom before him with a shake of his helm. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it? He wanted to say, but thought against it, darkened-hued lips quirking with a sneer, knowing Castor wasn’t in immediate danger.

thoughts speech​

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[SHADOWFIRE]

.fight it, or accept it —————————

————————— fear it, or control it.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

HE WATCHED WITH HALF-LIDDED HUES, MIND STILL FILLED WITH COTTON AS HE whined, amber hues watching Thistleback and Lichenthroat with furrowed brows. Why were there two of them? He didn’t know they had more siblings—Oh. Maybe I hit my head … huh? Castor flashed a groggy grin, lifting his head up to stare up at Thistleback, groaning at the notion. “‘S okie dokie.” He snickered, head easing back to the ground after the swell of dizziness. Nope. Don’t like that. His tail tip twitched, nose scrunched up in annoyance.

“Too loud.” He huffed, ignoring Pollux’s nudge, shooting the other a half-heated glare. “‘M can walk.” He groaned, noticing the fog gradually clearing away, giving him some clarity as he shuffled to his paws, claws digging into the earthen terrain with a wobbly grin.

thoughts speech​

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