pafp SCARLET-SKIED ↠ MOVING INTO THE LEADER'S DEN

[REDFLOWER]

Howlingstar's body is not even cold before Redflower slips into the den her leader had slept in for her entire life. It's cool, sheltered from the greenleaf heat, dim and cozy. She rakes her golden gaze over it approvingly, until she comes to the nest Howlingstar had used for moons. It's rough, ragged, and it's still-warm, which sends a little thrill of nausea through her stomach. She won't be needing it anymore, though, Redflower thinks. She grips the edge of it in her teeth and struggles not to gag as she heaves it to the mouth of the den.

The tortoiseshell drops the mess into a heap of splintering bracken. She clears her throat importantly, her amber gaze narrowing until it settles onto the first pelt who moves across her vision. She lifts a forepaw and points it: "You! Your leader and his mate require a nest. I'll need fresh moss." She straightens her spine, her ears twitching back and her chest puffing out.

That's right. I'm the mate to the leader of ThunderClan, she thinks. A smile curves about her muzzle. Her new status sends a thrill of exhilaration through her. "Drop what you're doing and go get some so we can be comfortable in our new den."

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

• ooc: the first person to post can be who she's talking to :]
  tagging @skyclaw ....
• 
• Redkit . Redpaw . Redflower, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 14 moons old, ages realistically on the 15th.
  — mentored by NPC ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
  — thunderclan warrior. npc x npc, gen 1.
  — currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh tortoiseshell with low white and pale yellow eyes. bright, spiteful, impressionable.
  
  

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[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

His muscles burned with anger as he stalked away from the highrock, tawny tail lashing from side to side. He would think of something. A demise as equally foul as Skyclaw and all his cronies. He padded wordlessly towards the warriors den, intending to curl into his nest and think, but Redflower's voice met his ears first, and his ears pinned flat against his head as she spoke.

He turned silently, pelt prickling. She was demanding moss. The creature wanted to be snug and cozy in Howlingstar's rightful place. And moss gathering was an apprentice task. He opened his mouth to hiss a retort, but nothing came. The less they suspected of him, the better. The easier it would be to get rid of them, in whatever way he chose.

So, he straightened up, nodded, and turned towards the entrance of the camp. "Sure," he rumbled. "I'll go and get some."

 

[Softsight]

ThunderClan feels stifling in the aftermath of Skyclaw's takeover. Howlingstar remains dead on the ground, as much as Softpaw wills the former leader to get to her paws and set things right; it's not going to happen, and the slow acceptance of that leaves Softpaw with an absent feeling in her chest. She always thought that Howlingstar would be there forever, even if that was unrealistic; she thought that she would grow into a warrior name chosen by Howlingstar just for her, and now... now she isn't sure at all what will happen next.

Softpaw is meandering around camp, keeping a watchful eye on those around her that have rotted from the inside out and gone over to Skyclaw's side, when she hears and sees Redflower demand that new moss be fetched for her and Skyclaw's new nest in the leader's den. They were mates? Since when? And even so, what right did she have to make demands like that? She watched as Stagstrike took the demands on the chin, going about as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing was different and more difficult than it had been a mere day before.

What right do you have to order us around? is what Softpaw wanted to say as she approached the scene, a harrowing look in her eye, but as she came within distance of Redflower, a sick feeling overwhelmed the girl and all she could manage was, "...you..." Weak and soft, just like her name. Shame and embarrassment flushed Softpaw's cheeks as she found herself staring at Redflower. Where were her words? Why were they failing her now, when it mattered?

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• !
  

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• SOFTPAW ✩ apprentice of thunderclan, eleven moons
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.
  

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[BASILPAW!]

( 𖤓 ) despair haunts the once bright eyes of thunderclan's newest apprentice as he crouches outside the apprentices' den like a wraith. he does not allow himself movement, does not once shift his position from the defensive stance he's taken. his siblings are inside, trying, and perhaps failing to sleep. basilpaw doesn't think he can manage to lie down, so locked are his limbs, so bloodshot are his eyes. they rest upon the mottled form of one of the traitors, a woman barely out of warriorhood, already ordering around her older clanmates. basilpaw feels a growl welling up in his throat and he swallows it - it tastes bitter.

stagstrike pads by and is accosted by redflower, who orders him to fetch her moss. as if the brown tom is a mere apprentice! indignation floods the cream tabby as he watches, growl still sour in his maw. joints creaking from lack of movement, the boy stands, padding over to where his clanmate and skyclaw's traitor queen speak. "i can go do it, stagstrike," he tells the earthen tom. his eyes say this is not your job, don't demean yourself for her. maybe he'll spit in her moss, or rub it in mud before he gives it to her. it'd serve her right. he does not look at redflower, does not acknowledge her presence. skyclaw's mate she may be, but she is no true authority to him. "o-or i could come with you."

softpaw approaches, wide eyed and full of fear-scent. his fellow apprentice seems frozen in her words, vocals glitching before she falls silent. basilpaw turns concerned green eyes to her, offering a blink of comfort.

IF YOU LET IT ALONE 𖤓 IT WILL SURELY GROW

• // "#FAC966"
• 
  
  
• 
  BASILPAW 𖤓 HE / THEY, APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN. MENTORED BY CAMPIONSONG. SIBLING TO MERLINPAW, WOLFPAW. 6 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a cream ticked tabby with high white, and green eyes. a tall boy sporting a chaotically ruffled coat of pale cream tabby. darker ticked stripes flow down his fur, and band around his legs and face. his chest, stomach, muzzle, and most of his tail are white, and he has ferny-green eyes that sparkle with mischief.
  

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[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Basilpaw offered to take the chore instead, and Tybalt shook his head. Time out of camp would give him time to think unbothered. Time to plot, to think of some way to end this nonsense. But the cream apprentice stared up at him with desperation, and he looked so small and frightened. Tybalt fought not to allow his gaze to soften at the sight of the child as he gave a small nod at Basilpaw's second offer. "Come," he agreed sharply. "We'll carry more with two of us, and it'll be faster."

 

[nightbird]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ skyclaw and his maggot-brained queen waste no time settling into howlingstar's den. it waves nausea through her stomach, the heap of the tabby's old nest discarded not far from where her body lay earlier. nightbird's tongue draws over a silver muzzle, tail twitching as she diverts from her path to the fresh kill pile.

she is thankful when stagstrike offers, he could withstand such childish bullying better than an apprentice. it would fuel his purpose, rather than snuff his fire. the queen sends a glance to basilpaw who offers to help, ears twitching. softpaw's voice reaches them as they move, she moves to flank the pale furred molly. there is dissent waiting meekly on the apprentice's tongue, redflower would eat her alive if she scented it.

nightbird cannot sit idle, waiting for these tyrants to make a fool of true thunderclanners. there would not be an example made of softpaw while she was present. "softpaw, come with me," she mutters, plumed tail tapping gently against her white pelt."there is a draft in the nursery, i'll need you to patch the walls."

there was no leak, hadn't been since nightbird stepped foot into the den. but it was an excuse to do something besides linger. before the queen heads, she glances up to skyclaw and redflower, teeth digging into her tongue to silence it from any remarks. the icy look she bestows them does not last long, and she does not wait for a rebuttal before returning her gaze back to softpaw. "grab a mouse on the way, the kits have yet to eat."

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ┌── THE CROWS IN THE GARDEN ⋅⋆⋅ ARE LAUGHING AT MY EXPENSE ──┐‎

• ooc ↛
  

• 

• 
  NIGHTBIRD ✩ she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, 35 ☾'s
  ⭃ a small black smoke molly with a white paw and pale silver eyes. currently a queen residing in the nursery.
  ⭃ mate to raccoonstripe / / currently mentoring none.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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