sensitive topics scarlet against the ego | return with body

[Cherryblossom]

It’s tiring work, holding Tatteredlight up from the Twolegplace and back. Duskpool carries most of it, the emotional maybe heavier than the physical burden to him, but the scarred mass of his face is inscrutable to her as they trudge into the clearing light of camp. Cherryblossom tries to be gentle about it, but it’s her first time doing the honors, and she does more of getting out of the way of the body than lowering him to his penultimate resting place.

She stares at the corpse for a moment longer, breathing in half-lidded blues and the crusted-over darkness at his throat, before lifting her head and letting the rest of camp in. Night has long since fallen, but Falcongaze and Drowsynose should’ve made the sorry news known to everyone before they arrived. Cherryblossom expects too-shiny eyes, maybe some tearful whimpers or wails. The occasional stare so confused it feels accusatory.

Orangestar should be here somewhere, the auburn tips of her mother’s ears poking through the bushy crowd. And the deputy should say something about it, a few words is all, but she looks around at everyone and finds herself wordless for once. ”He’s dead, guys,” she could say, and doesn’t for clear reason. ”Rogues, we think,” she pulls out instead, the words rattling against the insides of her throat.

She can feel the flakes of blood in her fur on a visceral level, each a smoldering ember to be put out let it burn holes through her pelt. Disgust ripples up her spine, reverberating against the pooled grief in her belly and churning into some kind of unholy mixture within. Cherryblossom dips her crown to the clan, contrition wet in shadowed eyes.

ooc: this immediately follows this thread

skyclan deputy | "speech." | tags​

​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Another day, another body. Figfeather doesn’t know what to think as she watches the warriors and deputy place Tatteredlight’s body gently upon the ground. She does not realize she is holding her breath as she looks to the young deputy; she must feel the stares of the clan and reveals they think it had been a rogue.

”Again?!” Figfeather lets loose a yowl of dismay. It was as if StarClan flipped a stone for how a SkyClan cat was going to die; rogues or foxes.

Distraught, Figfeather shakes her head and hobbles over to the fallen body of Tatteredlight. She licks his bloodied shoulder before speaking a sorrowful wish, ”May you hunt peacefully in StarClan, Tatteredlight.”

As she removes herself from his side she can’t help but feel powerless. Were they destined to be picked off one-by-one from the shadows by their foes? Was there nothing more they could do to protect each other?

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Lead Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
  » Mentoring Daisypaw
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[SLATE]

〔✦〕Slate cannot help the sinking feeling in the depths of his gut as Cherryblossom and Duskpool haul a mass into camp; it's a little difficult to make out in the moonlight, but the stench of death is clear enough to explain what's happened. Another clanmate's life had been taken. Rogues, more than likely, Cherryblossom reports. "What was he doing out there by himself?" Slate scoffs, more so frustrated that this may have been prevented had Tatteredlight gone out with a partner. The lead warrior was an independent soul and he did not appreciate the idea of having another clanmate tethered to his side at all times, but he knew it was outright stupid to linger around the border alone these days.

Nevertheless, SkyClan blood had been spilled. Another warrior was gone from their ranks. How much more of this would they stand for? "This is ridiculous. Somethin' needs to be done about these rogues." The Maine Coon growls, flexing his ivory claws and causing them to glisten in the light of the moon. I'll march into the city myself if I have to. Perhaps someone was putting these rogues up to the task of slaying as many clan cats as they could manage. There were far too many killings in such a short span of time for it to seem like a coincidence. Or... perhaps the rogues from a season ago were ramping up their numbers again and trying to seek revenge for their losses?

oh no, ive said too much ( i havent said enough ) //

• ooc. rushed ;-;
  
• SLATE —— lead warrior of skyclan , mentoring coffeepaw ✦ penned by beatles
  ✦ cismale / he/him pronouns / 39 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ single / bisexual & monogamous / closed to romance
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— hard combat difficulty & weak to agile, quick fighters / will start fights, will kill if necessary
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are ic
  ✦ biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a scarred longhaired maine coon with amber eyes. a large, 20lb tom with thick locks of fur. his chest and underbelly is ruddy from sun exposure. notable scars decorate his face and his ears are both torn with one being folded over.

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

There's been too much peace for too long . . . she's felt the shadow of a carrion - bird on her shoulder stronger than ever recently, an ever - present ghost in black feathers for moons now grown strengthened in the lull of air silent of screams. Mere sunrises ago, Slate's strangled false - alarm cry as he hung onto a tree had beckoned her forth with the grim surety of one familiar with tragedy . . . that endless shadow had loomed stronger than ever, bearing something almost like relief on its wings that her paranoia had been fulfilled . . .

The reality of tragedy, then, strikes her with the dullness of yet another lance through a bleeding heart as she fords a sea of pelts to near the forefront of the growing group . . . her son, flanked by Falcongaze, had already borne the news home on trembling wings. Bobbie peers around the solid form of a Clanmate, tail flicking with a resigned sort of pain at the sight of Tatteredlight sprawled limp on the earth. Dull blue eyes and a ripped - open throat are sights long familiar from her dreams each night, and it takes a hard shake of the head to jostle herself out of a seeing a different pelt in place of cream and white.

" More rogues? " she remarks, echoing Figfeather's sentiments in a quieter register as she nods slowly in agreement. She can't help the way the tired creases of her muzzle pull downwards into a scowl, crescent - curved claws sinking into the camp's familiar carpet of pine. Rarely does she find herself in agreement with Slate, but she jerks her head in a begrudging nod towards the rusted lead warrior where he stands a couple of tail - lengths away. " He's right. I mean, we can't go on like this . . . how many deaths now? " Bobbie's breath whooshes out in a sigh as if punched out of her chest . . . how much will rogues take from their Clan? She doesn't mean to tell the council how to do their jobs, but stars, they need to do something before the rogues take everything.

OOC : —

♥︎

​

 

[Howlfire]

Despite the peacefull lull that largely falls over SkyClan, it seems they are continually dogged by random deaths. Howlfire is at a true loss for words when she sees the patrol return with Tatteredlight's body, leaving it before the clan, and revealing that they suspected rogues had done the deed.

Howflire's amber eyes linger on Cherryblossom before shaking her head in frustration at this situation. "They can't keep getting away with this," Howlfire grumbles. Her claws flex into the dirt briefly as she thinks of all they had lost as of late, the unfairness that their clanmates keep getting picked off in such random ways. "There has to be something we can do to stop this surely?" She looks around at the more senior warriors, hoping to find an answer in their faces, even though she knows there won't be one. If there had been a way to prevent any of this, then surely they would have already discovered it by now.

Another heavy sigh passes her lips before she pads forward to touch her nose against Tatteredlight's bloodied pelt. "Rest easy, Tatteredlight. May StarClan guide your path forward."​

 

[Orangestar]

"Too many." Orangestar answers Bobbie as she appears, ochre stare falling upon Tatteredlight's grisly form with a withdrawn wariness. She'd known this was coming; the appearances of a shaking Drowsynose and a placating Falcongaze far ahead of the rest of the patrol had been the first sign that something was horribly wrong. She blinks, cream-and-white fur transforming to ginger-pointed against the back of her eyelids. She shudders, sending a glance skyward. Applefrost, is he up there with you? She asks the sky, silently.

Brown eyes turn to her daughter, searching Cherryblossom next for injury, a faint flicker of maternal concern crossing her expression before it is quashed by her finding none. The blood on her fur is Tatteredlight's, thankfully (Orangestar feels guilty, briefly, for her relief regarding the sight). Murmurs of concern ripple through the crowd, sympathy snapping close at its paws. Her jaw tightens. Yes, they have to do something ... but what? What could they do? Orangestar can't make this choice on her own.

"The council will convene after Tatteredlight's vigil." Orangestar looses a slow breath, plumy tail brushing against the well-trodden earth of camp. "Someone fetch Dawnglare or Fireflyglow."

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

• // calling for @DAWNGLARE or @Fireflyglow <3
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — single ; mentoring springpaw & ashpaw
  — speech is in #F18C47
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[Daisypaw]

There were small moments when Daisypaw did not remember the body of his father in the camp and feel dread, it was something that he did not wish upon another ever, to see their loved one's body being carried through the gorse tunnel to the camp and carefully placed down where all could see in the clearing. He wasn't doing much when it happened, soaking up the sun while he still could before having to go out once more for training or get ready to sleep, but when Tatteredlight is brought back into camp, blood-soaked body transferring red stains onto the tri-colored deputy's fur it is forgotten.

He heard the yowl from Figfeather first, head turning to look in that direction before eyes land on marred body and ears pin back to his head, stuck in the past for just a moment as others began to quickly gather around to speak. They demanded something be done, and though he's young the apprentice can't help but agree - too much death was happening, too many rogues and foxes and StarClan knew what else causing so much pain - and where he once wished to stay within camp walls to remain safe now he wished to be out there, fighting to protect the home that he'd known so that no one else would have to die. He wished he knew properly how to fight, that he was a warrior and finished with his training so that his mother and siblings could be safe.

In that moment he moved towards the nursery, ushering any kits that dared to look out from their den back inside, ready to tell the queens in hushed voices what had happened. He needed to protect them, needed to make sure Budkit was spared the death of a clanmate for as long as possible.

CAUGHT YOU RED 🌺 HANDED IN THE BISCUIT TIN

• 

• 
  ♡ SH blue w/low white & blue eyes
  ♡ cannot properly control emotions
  ♡ born november 8, 2023. ages realistically
  ♡ sexuality unknown ; interested in no one
  ♡ adopted by Butterflytuft and Dandelionwish
  ♡ brother to Weedpaw and Fluffypaw
  ♡ easy to befriend ; easy to upset
  ♡ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ♡ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[falcongaze]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- He and Drowsynose had come before the other two. Drowsynose had perhaps stumbled back, still smelling of bile, of fear-scent. Falcongaze had all but ignored those 'warning' signs, keeping close to the other. He could not, in good consciousness, send this warrior back on his own, not after the breakdown that had occurred at the sight of a body. An inhale followed him, ears pressing down as he continued to walk.

Thoughts had drowned together the shock of seeing a long-dead cat, one where rigor mortis had already begun to claim it, blood cooled and drying upon the ground. Was it really so different from watching cats waste away, or perhaps die in the sewers? Falcongaze wasn't sure, his ears lowered and vision forward. When they arrived at camp before the two carrying the body back, he had been quick to call and report to Orangestar. Once he was done with that, vision had turned towards his smoked friend, ensuring that he was hidden from the procession that returned.

Once he was sure his 'friend' would manage, he returned to the mess at paw. His chin lifted, vision upon Tatteredlight's body- but those who looked closer saw grief in his eyes. Another clanmate, lost to the claws of invading rogues. Agreement was uttered from his lips at everyone's sentiment. Yes, something had to be done. Falcongaze lifted his vision towards Cherryblossom. Any apology he could have offered for leaving her with the gruesome task of carrying the body sputtered and died on his lips.

She hadn't ever apologized to him. She wouldn't, not for the moons of belittling she did. He inhaled softly, dipping his head at Orangestar's announcement, his claws instead pinning into the dirt as he thought how best to go about the rogues.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ILL SEE YOU WHEN ⋅❁⋅ THE WRATH COMES AROUND ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• FALCONGAZE 🌧 he/him, warrior of skyclan, fifteen moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate lynx point with deep blue eyes, and a long scar on his left cheek down under his jawline. pushes his 'hair' back. very long legged, half oriental moggie.
  ⭃ previously mentored by greeneyes / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ padding after no one / / brother to spottedpaw and sagepaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[DROWSYNOSE]

STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME​

---

drowsynose had made a complete and utter fool of himself. he's so usually able to keep all of that anxiety pushed down, but he couldn't. he can't. so much for being the warrior he had wished to be when he was young. biggest within the patrol, and easily overtaken by fear. fear that none of them understood, fear that he would never talk about if he had anything to say about it. but even in the midst of panic, he could tell. rogues were about. maybe that's what made him panic in the first place. he can pick out the scent of a rogue anywhere. he just... didn't expect to see a dead body. maybe it would have been a lot more easy to handle if he couldn't imagine himself dead all the same. if his body had been tatteredlight's. but it wasn't. this wasn't about him, was it? he has to push it away. his mother had given him a lot of things in life, and right now he is using that ability to just push it all down away, making his scent stale and cold.

he only gives a nod of thanks to falcongaze– he can thank him properly later– turning dully to orangestar and the rest of the gathering of cats, muttering words loud and clear enough to be heard.

"before i threw up, i briefly caught the rogue's scent. if they're still out there we can find them."

there is a moment where he regrets speaking up but still he continues on.

"i am not a fighter but i am a tracker, orangestar. i will help when and where i can. if you'll excuse me, however, i need some water."

he blinks for a bit before gently brushing against bobbie, offering only a blink to her before he turns and goes off to get some water filled moss to get the taste of bile from his tongue. he can't really stand around here anymore– there's too many cats around here.
​

 

[Fireflyglow]

The scent of death is heavy in the air, and as a panicking apprentice comes to alert him of the death of Tatteredlight, Fireflyglow heaves himself to his paws with a deep grunt. His pawsteps are swift, carrying himself over to the group of clanmates who talked amongst themselves about catching the rogue which killed their clanmate.

"I'll prepare the vigil." He says softly, his voice heavy with sorrow as his blind blue eyes peer towards the deceased form of Tatteredlight. His tail twitches behind him, a simmering anger at the rogue which took one of his family from them. His paw brushes over Tatteredlight's head, as if soothing the dead and willing them to join their ancestors in the star.

"She will welcome your vessel into Her ranks, but your soul returns to the stars. As do we all." He says a soft prayer, before he turns to go fetch Dawnglare so they may begin the vigil soon.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 23 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Figfeather agrees with Slate’s desire to act, but her spirit waivers. They’ve tried, haven’t they? One rogue trouble is defeated and another rears its ugly head. They were like weeds; unwilling to cease their destruction upon SkyClan.

Orangestar shows herself. Figfeather watches as her eyes trail upwards into the sky, did she pray to them now as Figfeather did? Would a leader’s plead be enough to put an end to the flood of blood in their forest? Her ears pin to the back of her skull in distress, a tail lashes anxiously, thumping against the earth.

A council meeting is to be held after Tatteredlight’s vigil. Figfeather wonders what will come of it, she hopes with their minds combined they’ll be able to put a stop to this once and for all.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Lead Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
  » Mentoring Daisypaw
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The burly warrior remained quiet, puttin’ a well-crafted mask of indifference to smooth the more jagged edges of his unwantin’ sorrow, chest heavyin’ painful at the loss of another, and then what? Hollywhisper? Duststorm? Sorrelsong? Outlaw. His grandchildren?

What more could they want from him? He swallowed back a harsh chuff, woolly plumage twitchin’ against the ground, draggin’ like a rotted corpse till he paused, molten hue refocusin’ to realize they made it to camp. Payin’ attention aren’t ya, Duskpool? His timbre was a low, drawn groan inside his helm, heavy with sarcasm. Damnit. He growled, a low, guttural thing deep within his chest, settlin’ Tatteredlight’s bloodied frame with as much grace as a cat his size could muster, breathin’ heavily, Duskpool pulled away from the warrior to stare ahead, searchin’ for Duststorm.

He hummed a low, throaty tune acknowledging Slate because foxdung if SkyClan can go much longer droppin’ cats like flies. None of ‘em deserved it. Tatteredlight didn’t deserve that. Far younger than Duskpool and gone just as soon settled somethin’ foul in his stomach, breathin’ through a parted maw at the slow churn of his stomach.

A managed ear twitched at the whispers of prayer, findin’ somethin’ odd settlin’ deep within his stomach. The worthless what-ifs began to circle like flies to a carcass, doin’ nothin’ but makin’ the older warrior feel awful. He swallowed back the self-deprecatin’ grin that threatened to split his maw, instead a strong scowl found its place against scarred lips, fiery molten hues switchin’ from cat to cat.

“I ain’t all that good at trackin’ but if ya need a frontliner —” His statement trailed off, gaze a fiery inferno. Duskpool ain’t all that afraid of death, not when he had Outlaw if things went south, knowin’ his brother would take the mantle and protect the family Duskpool had so carefully built here in SkyClan. If worse comes to worse. His gaze lingered on Outlaw’s familiar form, not yet havin’ left to return to his upwalkers when they held a silent conversation through their eyes.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Outlaw let out a worn-out sigh and a flicker of trepidation passed through Duskpool’s eyes. Despite the tension lingering hotly along broad shoulders, Duskpool breathed a sigh of relief, turnin’ to stare at Tatteredlight’s crumpled form — a series of emotions flickerin’ through fiery hues when they clamped shut, face fallin’ lax with a breathy rumble, shoulderin’ ripplin’ muscle to press a cheek against Tatteredlight’s helm in one last farewell. “I’ll go find his brother.” He muttered dully, pullin’ away to peer across camp in search of familiar hues, dread coursin’ through his veins knowin’ damn well the warrior was a violent being — especially with Tatteredlight. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[ThistleBack]

The smell of death, warm blood, it enters the camp as Cherryblossom and Duskpool bring it. Thistleback crawls from the shadows with a stern scowl. Unreadable and silent as he listens. Tatteredlight, a fine warrior- slain, another cavity rotted into the ranks of Skyclan.

He rumbles his agreement with Slate and Bobbie, shifting on his paws and rolling them on the ground to crackle the joints. Figfeather’s voice raises on the tense somber tune of the camp, and Duskpool leaves with the grievous task of telling the loved one. Drowsynose mentions a scent trail, Thistleback was a rogue once and knows the tricks he used to cover his own trails. Still, this was something.

‘too many’ Orangstar says, " I shall hope that we return the favor. Slow and painful, should I happen upon one " he murmurs, hackles twitching with anger. Nails curling and digging into the soil. You can kill Kuiper, but that doesn’t kill all the evil from the world. His lips faintly peel backward as he redirects his gaze to the tree line. He doesn’t look to the stars, he almost never prayed to them. Not out of lack of faith, nor disrespect- but out of needing nothing from them. Some things needed to be handled, with absolute faith in oneself- and to those around you. The passion, the unspoken promises, the fury.

He pads forth to touch his nose to the warrior’s shoulder in turn, but says nothing. Simply steps to the side, and awaits orders should any funnel his way. Eagerly.

⛤ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛤

• —
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  forty-eight mns. EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Former Lead warrior of Skyclan 12.22.22 - 06.2023
  — Father of Coyotecrest, Eveningpaw, Briarpaw, Damsel, Sunflowerpaw, and Rosepaw.
  — mentoring none formerly Snowpath & 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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