pafp RUST IN PEACE + DROWNING

[kuiper]

There is this concept amongst the clans that, so long as borders are respected and their social pecking order is conformed to, they are able to circumvent the hazards of nature and the outside world. This illusion of security keeps the clans in check more than their piddling laws. And since their very own way of living has been turned into a game of dramatic politicking, anybody who isn't playing along is simply a footnote. 'Kittypets', 'loners', and 'rogues' are all labels they have for cats who do not accommodate their standards, and are thereby deserving of animosity or hostility, depending on the clan.

Putting a clan cat to death is not what thrills Kuiper, but rather the idea of introducing a sense of vulnerability. A wide, wild world exists outside of the clans' own, and it's something they ought to realise before they become too entrenched in their ideas - for they will inevitably become a threat to non-clan cats at that point. The groups already claimed most of the natural food sources in the area, so what happens when they feel the need to expand? When Leaf-bare comes, will they outsource their prey from lands that aren't their own, and make it all the more harder for non-clan cats to survive?

To stand a chance, power must be taken from those who seek to take it from you.

Having left the SkyClan brat's body to rot in a secluded location near twolegplace, the argent tom maintains a clear head on his shoulders as he roams the outskirts of the swimming cats' territory. Optimistically, he'll have procured a second one to accompany Centipedepaw later on. An effort is made to remain within the scent markers' close proximity, as he knows little of the territory and doesn't quite fancy getting lost. And while it is not yet dark, the sun hangs low enough to cast a dim orange across the sky and darken the land. He doesn't stray too far from his stalking spot for this reason.

A trickle of time passes before motion is picked up just over yonder. On the bank of the river, the same side as him. Heartrate increasing, wriggling into launching position, all he waits for now is the confirmation that this one is smaller than him.

She's half his size by the looks of it.

Kuiper slings out from his hidey-spot and sets himself on the she-cat without a moment's hesitation. He aims to immediately sink his teeth into her nape and thrash her around, but it quickly becomes evident that her defensive training exceeds that of the SkyClan apprentice. She worms out of the way as his jaws miss their mark, and the coordinated attack now devolves into a frenzied scuffle. During the panic, she lands a claw smack-dab in the middle of his face, leaving a lengthy gnash between his eyes.

Adrenaline spikes within his system as the pain begins to set in, and it becomes increasingly apparent that this confrontation isn't as easy as he'd initially surmised. Furthermore, it was taking longer than he'd hoped, and by now, surely her clanmates have heard the struggle. Sound travels exceptionally well over water, and all that.

Kuiper opts to end it right there and then, even if it means not being able to take her body back. Shoving the younger feline over the bank and into the water, he leaps in after and pins her beneath the waves. The uncomfortable sensation of water clogs up his fur, but it does not faze him in pinning the entirety of his weight onto the girl. Limbs start to tremble as his remaining strength is used to keep her still.

Her thrashing comes to an end before long, and she becomes weightless underneath the surface.

Heavy inhales and exhales ring from his throat as he departs the water, seeking a brief moment of respite - but it does not come. He realises that, in conjunction with the initial scuffle, the sound of splashing water very well may have attracted some unwanted attention. Hence, he runs off into the night, fuelled by what little stamina he had left in his veins.

// pls wait for first response >:) kuiper is running off into twolegplace. if he gets chased, another thread will be made in the loner lands board!​

 

[Peachpaw .]

Peachpaw never expected to be an apprentice for this long; by this time, she was already well over 9 months old and pretty hulking in height and mass. Drinking from the river, panting with exhaustion from her hunt, a fish sat dead beside her as she sipped thirstily from the clear tides.

You could get hurt if you wander too far from camp, Peachpaw. Smokethroat warned her, and she listened this time- she stayed in their borders, believing that this would keep her safe. They couldn't trust WindClan anymore, they were a threat to them.

She thought the territory would keep her safe. She was already nicely trained as it was, she just had to fix her attitude. Always so sassy, always so ignorant of the world around her.

She feels the teeth first, being shaken like a ragdoll until the shock finally wears off- she twists, turns, big paws lashing out to smack and claw at whatever she could get a hold of. If she was going to die here, she was going to look at her killer's face as she died- he would remember her face. She wouldn't be an easy kill. It seemed to work, and the yowling and hissing she lets escape her throat was evident; a claw slashes between the man's eyes, and she grins up at him smugly.

"Not so tough-" She manages to grunt out before she's finally shoved into the water, gurgling as water fills her lungs quickly. When you struggle, the water will take you faster- she remembered that. But how do you not struggle when someone else is using their lifeblood to kill you? She struggles beneath the weight of the hulking tom, a scream muffled by bubbles of water- until no more oxygen remains. She goes limp, claws letting go of the tom's shoulders and legs sinking into the water. Eerie silence filled the air, and thankfully the current wouldn't pull her big body too far. She floats in the water of their beloved river, golden eyes wide with fierce anger despite the lack of living light in them.

She'd gone down with a fight, that much was for sure.​

 

[Redpath]

Redpath had heard the scuffle and broke from her hunt to bolt towards the commotion. She wasn't graceful about it, her paws hitting the ground hard as she streaked to the river.

The sight she saw stopped her in her path. She stared with wide, horrified. She approached Peachpaw and pulls her ashore. She didn't bother checking for signs of life, she knew death when she saw it. She let out a wail of anguish as grief wracked her soul and made the large molly tremble like a leaf.

She was so young, she didn't deserve this. The scent she picked up wasn't a fox, dog, or badger. It was feline. Fresh. Grief turned to wrath, and she rose to her feet and practically roared.

"GET BACK HERE COWARD!!!! COME FIGHT SOMEONE WHO SHARES YOUR MURDEROUS INTENT."

She choked back a sob.

"I'LL RIP THE FLESH FROM YOUR BONES."

She was dead serious. She's been here before. She's done that before. She'll do it again.

Redpath was her name for a reason.
​

 

[GLOOMPAW]

*:･ﾟ✧☁ ⋯ Gloompaw doesn't know the sound of drowning. When her elders warn her of the danger of the waters, she imagines a war with the currents, a loud one full of the sound of screams. Peachpaw is silent as she dies, and that's what scares her. That if maybe she'd been closer or heard a shout, there would've been hope.

"Peachpaw -" her voice breaks at the center, vision swimming with uncharacteristic fright. Gloompaw frantically flicked over the other's fur, hoping for the rise and fall of her flanks, for her to lift her head out of the water and speak. Her jaw clenches, and her eyes are wide as she stares at the floating body.

The other apprentice doesn't move.

Gloompaw feels her eyes burn with tears. She doesn't know Peachpaw well, but her personality was enough to garner the mink's distant respect -- but what was that now? She hasn't seen death before, but she knows by the stillness it's too late.

Despite that, Gloompaw screeches louder, "PEACHPAW!" Grief shifts into rage, and she realizes that as more clanmates arrive, the murderer's trail would begin to muddle. Most animals were too stupid to drown a cat. Eyes flickering to Redpath, who bellows her own threats, she weighs her options. Then, bunching her legs up, she bolts off in the vague direction of Kuiper, wishing desperately the older molly was following after. ​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

Of all the clans they were the safest, not many dared trek close to the river because most cats did not understand its complex moods, its constantly shifting tides. The river was as much a member of the clan as any cat, but one more fickle and prone to mischief; on some days it yielded prey abundant on others it relinquished not a single minnow. It could be a comforting embrace, cradling new apprentices learning to swim and providing a lazy nest for others to drift listlessly but it could also rip a cat away in a moment and send them to StarClan more swiftly than even claws might. Smokethroat knew what the vicious and unrelenting river looked like, he could tell when the froth at the shoreline told of its power, the ripple of its mood; today it spoke only peace and calm but the body on the pebbled land told another story entirely.
It was Redpath's furious screaming, her yowls of anger and hurt that sent him briskly running through the reeds to the scene and as he arrived he did not fully register the body there until Gloompaw cried her name in despair. Peachpaw. Hard headed, impulsive, prone to arguing and a bit fighty. She reminded him of himself in his youth, thinking he knew better and refusing to follow premade paths because he wished to forge his own. She HAD reminded him of himself. He remembered scolding her, warning her not to go near other clan's territories because they were unsafe and she had relented. She had listened to reasoning, she had done everything right, yet here she was dead. Drowned in her own clan's river. Where she was supposed to be safe, supposed to feel protected. Smokethroat had no words immediately, the tightness in his throat was only coupled with the burning in his eyes as he fought both the immense sorrow of sudden loss and the outrage of a building fire threatening to burn him up in an inferno of his own making. Peachpaw was a strong swimmer.
This wasn't an accident. This wasn't-The dark tom has only a moment to register the sudden movement bursting away from them and he turns to see Gloompaw racing off into the distance, the direction the river had drifted the body down to them to where assumedly the culprit might be.
"Redpath, get back to camp-let Cicadastar know what happened, get a patrol together and join us at the border to two-leg place...." Peachpaw was going to get a proper burial but first he was turning to dash off after Gloompaw with a swiftness, there was no arguing with the apprentice and telling her to stay back, but if things got rough he would force her to run home.


​

 

[Redpath]

She just started running after Gloompaw when Smokethroat arrived, telling her to go back to camp. Her paws dug into the ground as she halted herself. She gripped the ground for a moment, fighting the urge to snap back with a no.

"Alright." She growled.

She forced herself to turn around and run back to camp. She felt like she was fleeing. She bore her teeth the entire time she ran back, reminding herself that she wasn't running. She burst into camp, gripping the ground with her claws

"Cicadastar!! We have an emergency!" She called out, looking around for him.

@CICADASTAR
​

 

[CRAPPIEPATCH]

Death, as a concept, has always been foreign to Crappiepaw. Of course, he’s aware that it happens. It will happen to everyone, in fact; even the most legendary of warriors will die. Someday, they too will die—probably of this stupid illness that they’ve never been able to shake off. But usually death is reserved for the sick, the elderly, or those who perform great deeds of either good or evil. Death, in Crappiepaw’s mind, is only meant to happen to those who have earned it.

Has Peachpaw earned this death?

Staring wide-eyed at a corpse, the patched apprentice isn’t sure. Peachpaw is—was a mere child. An apprentice, like them. She wasn’t old. She wasn’t sick, as far as they were aware.

They watch after Gloompaw with a nearly panicked gaze, emerald eyes alight with fear as she runs off shouting. She’s going to run off and get herself killed! But then Smokethroat—and yeah, Crappiepaw will admit now that perhaps the warrior isn’t as terrible as he’d previously thought—tears off after her, and the tortoiseshell’s maw pulls up into relieved grimace. At least she’s somewhat safe, if the lead warrior can stay hot on her trail.

"Redpath," they say softly, but the she-cat turns and runs back to camp. They’re alone now. Alone, standing with wet paws, beside the body of someone they could have been friends with, given time. And for the first time in their life, Crappiepaw feels nothing.
​

[ FORTUNE LOVES THE BOLD ]​

​

 

[koispots]

Theres splashing and theres panic and theres screaming and yelling and much like before with the twoleg paw, theres a sense of dread that washes over her. Shes hurrying as fast as she could and its the impending sense of doom as she arrives on scene, with Redpath and Smokethroat running off. She stops besides Crappie, barely recognizes the sopping wet body was actually a body, looking back and forth between her friend and the sad lump in the river.

Thats when it hits her. A scream tears through her throat, pupils a pinprick with fear, oh my Stars there is a dead body, its Peachpaw, its Peachpaw, shes dead, shes dead- Koi promptly stumbles a few steps away from Crappie and vomits as if trying to cleanse her body of what she had just seen, but the tears come quick and shes a mess, Peachpaw died, shes dead, shes never ever gonna be around camp again. She can’t claim to know the girl, but this was a murder, so vastly different from when she had last seen her mothers body. A murder of pure evil. Peachpaw was barely a couple months older than her and Crappie.

And then it sinks in that the two on scene were alone. Alone, alone, and the murderer might come back, but they have to protect Peachpaw’s body, and her heads spinning and it feels fake. She nearly trips as she makes her way back over to Crappie, and her legs finally give out. “Beesong!” a guttural wail is the final thing that leaves her mouth as she shakes like a leaf caught in a whirlwind. She attempts to press herself against Crappie’s side, for comfort, for protection, she doesn’t know what to do when she falls silent with heaving sobs.

Koi can only hope Cicadastar, even Buckgait, came soon. She knows for certain she’ll have nightmares.

 

[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

she stands behind the painted child she had grown so fond of, staring at the body of the young in the river. the water runs red with the loss, and buck is still. she hears nothing, but is aware of the frantic movement and sudden grief in the air. all she feels is anger. such a familiar thing that she dances with, a delicate waltz that could end her. she stares dead ahead, still so still.

to be so careless as to let this beast roam in the land, lay claws on a child, and defile their river. there should be changes. to protect the young.

it takes one more look towards peachpaw. that's all it ever took. the murder of a child. something of depravity had laid sight on one who had not seen their first seasons. she cannot stand it. and the woman takes off into a dead sprint, heavy in pursuit of @kuiper who had been foolish enough to enter the territory with such an animal roaming. and careless enough to leave his scent. a woman of no remorse, she plans to bring his head back. to let the worms and maggots feast upon him. it does not quite matter as to when buck will find him, just the surety that she will find him.
​

 

[BEESONG]

the screams of redpath, of which promise bodily harm to another, set every nerve within the healer ablaze. it is not even directed at beesong, yet he still must choke down that instinctual fear. he could feel his father's glare, smell his rancid breath as he pushes his sneering face into beesong's, hear his fury within redpath's own.

their heart hammers in a curled ear, feels that telltale tremor in their legs, their lungs ensnared in an agonizing grip. but they cannot run- running will only make the inevitable worse- so they proceed on feather-light paws. as if afraid the slightest noise would, in turn, hurt them. beesong's pace quickens when they hear a name, their name, cried out.

he doesn't register the body, when he first steps out onto the pebble-laden shore. an aqua gaze flits between the bystanders, jaw clenched impossibly tight, waiting for something to happen. expecting, muscles tensed in preparation, but never receiving. beesong, instead, hears the screech of gloompaw and the sobs of koipaw. regrettably, his eyes trail down. down to the water's edge. down to peachpaw.

down to peachpaw's corpse.

beesong did not think that they could experience such vindictive anger, yet overwhelming numbness all at once. it is as if two sides of their brain are warring with each other. children die, and that is life. children die, and it isn't fucking fair.

children die, and beesong cannot breathe life back into their lungs. but he could make sure that the sick bastard who murdered peachpaw within the river that was supposed to protect her, never laid another paw on a child again. beesong does not enjoy violence, prefers using words above weapons.

cats who drown children without mercy, in their own home, do not deserve that kindness.

beesong follows on the heels of the lead warrior and deputy, claws unsheathed. whoever did this would pay the price.​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) a familiar scream echoes through tall ears, smoke fur ruffled and spiked in worry. every time something rings out over her territory, tragedy is soon to follow. close on the paws of her friend, the lead warrior pushes through, eyes widening at the sight, something vile building in her throat. peachpaw, lovely, sweet, a life snuffed by the very river she so relies on. rogue scent decorates the place, followed by trace visions of crimson as the crime is revealed. grief freezes willowroot in place for but a moment. around her, commotion blurs, paws thundering past until she witnesses beesong's bobbed tail disappearing swiftly into the darkening evening. there is a shaking urge to follow, to rip and tear and slice until whoever responsible is put to death in the most cruel way. but peachpaw's body is a lump on the ground, sunset and snow fur dancing gently in waves that wash from the river. crappiepaw and koipaw huddle around her. there is work to be done here.

apart from the grieving two, the clearing is deserted. the air is eerily quiet, and as pebbles crunch under her paws, the femme shivers. "oh, little dove" she'll murmur, bending to softly close the girl's eyes with a swipe of her tongue. "peachpaw, may your spirit go swiftly to the stars. we will keep your memory alive." then, with a soft sigh and pinpricks of grief, she looks at the two children, at their skinny legs and too big eyes, and she sees the fear. how cruel of the stars to snatch a life so young, how cruel that these apprentices will never see their denmate grow up. she hopes the villain responsible is snuffed out just as quickly. stepping forward, willowroot presses into the two, curling her tail around them and standing with her head high, eyes narrowed in watch. no more apprentices will die tonight.

she hopes to the skies that cicadastar is coming.​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[kuiper]

Damn that girl for taking too long to die. Had she accepted her demise straight away, in a vein similar to the SkyClan child, then he'd be well on his way without so much as a smattering of a problem. Now, he's running for his life- but even worse, he's wet.

Kuiper absconds from the water cats' territory, bounding towards the twolegplace on rash pawsteps.

// continued in this thread! ​