camp SKIRMISH RETURN ╱ FIRST LIGHT´ˎ˗

[SUNSTAR]

The entire trek home he is counting heads. A moment's inattention to defeat– a direct line that he cannot walk again, though his paws tread it thoughtlessly. From the back of the patrol, his eyes scan those ahead. Missing numbers, he knows, and weakened considerably. Blood flecks the ground and the air as they walk. Their fur, their pride. From Cottonpaw to Cloudedsky, to Snailstride and Weaselclaw — between his worry and his rage, the warrior cannot be sure which one is ahead. He only knows that he feels each of them. His hatred for RiverClan and for being pulled from battle, for the slim tom he had been forced to leave far too intact at the other's call. He does not fault Weaselclaw; tries not to, in any case, but his ego is easily inflamed. An infected wound seeking protection, and Sunstride does not stop himself from offering it.

"To Vulturemask's den, all of you; even if it is little more than a scratch," he demands, voice brokering no arguments. But his voice lowers as he speaks to Cottonpaw, firm but more attentive to her state– kinder. "You should be seen to first."

Unlike some of the others, she had remained. Even against her will, she fought as well as a warrior. The two that he is missing, the two that had not returned with their patrol...glacial eyes scan camp in search of either form, but he does not find them immediately. Part of him, a softer part, worries that they may not return at all. He had not seen Periwinklebreeze fall, nor had he seen the direction that Silverthorn took. Perhaps he trailed not far after them. Or perhaps the waters had won once more, and RiverClan's victory would be further cemented with their deaths. Sunstride grits his teeth. "Has anyone seen sign of Periwinklebreeze and Silverthorn?"

＞ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES REFERENCE 05.28.2023 〙ˊˎ＜

• ooc: @WEASELCLAW @cottonpaw @Cloudedsky @Periwinklebreeze. @SILVERTHORN @SNAILSTRIDE tagging everyone! or i hope it's everyone i'm so sorry if i missed someone lol

• 

• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. approx. 40 moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
  —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
  —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.

• "speech"

​

 

[Bluepool]

It was a day like any other, patrols go out, they come back. The sun rises and follows the same path in the sky and the routine feels good. It feels normal. It is when there is a break in that routine that Bluepool feels nervous. Weaselclaw's patrol should have come back by now. At first, the striped she cat just tells herself that perhaps they had happened into good hunting. There is no reason to assume the worst immediately. But then more time passes and she finds herself looking anxiously at the camps entrance until she is about to push herself to her paws and go out to the moors so to see if she could spot them, at least to calm her troubled mind. It is then that they appear. At first it is just Sunstride and at first she cannot figure out why the tom looks different, and then the other cats begin to filter in. She blinks in surprise to see wounds, blood, missing fur. "Great stars above! What happened to you lot?" she asks. They all looked like shredded prey.

Her ears flick backwards in surprise to hear that Silverthorn and Periwinklebreeze are nowhere to be found "They're missing?" she asks, incredulous. How could this patrol have gone so wrong?

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 Where before it was Sunstride driven to apprehension following their defeat against ShadowClan, it is now Wolfsong who has worn his paws down in circuits of the moors, heedless of the strong, intermittent winds. Their recent loss— it had not boded well at the time that an enemy far less formidable would manage to take a life from Sootstar and force WindClan's retreat. An omen of what, he cannot say. Every great power waxes and wanes, but should one defeat mean turning tides for WindClan?

He is antsy for reasons he cannot explain, not until the length of the patrol's absence stretches on, and on. The sun climbs higher above their heads but it does not catch flame on Sunstride's pelt. He hunts, then hunts again— and it is only when he has resolved to search for them that they finally appear.

He passes Bluepool, his ears lying flat against his skull. They reek of RiverClan, blood and loss, and he's leaning in and up to press his forehead against Sunstride's. He breathes him in until he smells less like fish and water. "Is this how they seek their revenge?" Wolfsong noses his throat gently, deep lines around his eye.
​

 

[Badgermoon]

Like his Clanmates, Badgermoon's anxiety had been growing with every long minute the patrol had not returned. When at last he caught their scent - familiar, comforting, but marred by coppery, fishy overtures of ill fortune - the black-and-white tomcat was swift to follow Wolfsong and Bluepool, abandoning his half-eaten meal; his nerves had been too fried for it to taste like anything other than sand, anyway. The patrol had returned, and its delay - as he had feared - was not the product of any innocent side quest. Battered and bloodied, they filed in, Sunstride shepherding them onward from his position at the back of the group. Badgermoon's yellow eyes were full of alarm as he swept them over the group of newly-returned WindClanners. He could see no grievous injuries, but the fact that two warriors were missing was bad enough. His throat was tight and his face was eloquent in its demand for answers, but he said nothing: Bluepool and Wolfsong had asked the pertinent things, and adding his voice felt unnecessary. Instead he stood and waited, broad shoulders tense and expression expectant.​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

They don’t intend to be waiting like some kind of damsel for the patrol’s return (for Peri’s return), but it’s been too long. What’s happened to the patrol, why have the clan’s warriors been gone for so much longer than expected? Gravelsnap lingers near the entrance to camp, remaining just out of the wind’s path. Narrowed hazel eyes are trained on the gap in the gorse wall—when they spot movement, they lurch forward, before catching themself. What if it’s a different patrol returning? They wait until they spot the battered forms of Sunstride and Weaselclaw, along with the rest of their patrol, that the black and white warrior darts forth to meet the group.

Beside Badgermoon they take their place, eyes wide and watery. There is a cat missing. There is a clanmate who isn’t with the patrol. No. "Peri isn’t with you?" The question is redundant, because Sunstride has already asked about their two apparently missing warriors; they know what must have happened.

If the patrol doesn’t seem to know where Periwinklebreeze is, then he must be dead, perhaps swept away by the river. Gone forever. Their expression cracks, and then falls, despair showing plainly on their face. No. Please, no. Something in their chest aches, but it is different from the feeling of anxiety that occasionally overtakes them. They can’t figure out what the feeling is, though. Are they having a heart attack? He glances up to the sky, pleading with Sunstride, with Weaselclaw, with the stars, with the sky itself. I’ll do anything, just tell me he’s not gone.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

​

 

[Cloudedsky]

( ♬ ) The trek back along the winding hills of the moor from RiverClan had been long and daunting, adrenaline that once seemed to literally seep from her skin had now dissipated completely and she is left is a bruised and bloodied frame. Her anger, from once a raving inferno was no more than smoldering embers as she walks through the familiar path of the gorse tunnel. She sticks close to Cottonpaw, her tail draped around the other's flank protectively as they enter. She doesn't care about her injuries, they weren't life-threatening, they would heal and scar. All she cares for is her younger sister, lacerations across her delicate face and so close to her eye. She fears it could be damaged, but Stars she hopes not.
Sunstride guides them, turning once the sweet haven of home corralled them close like a mother's arms, to head for Vulturemask's den. He hears his soft hum to Cottonpaw, and before the apprentice could protest, she interjecfs softly. "Yes, please Cottonpaw. You need this looked at as quickly as possible, okay?" She aims to nudge her softly on her shoulder, moving away from her now in case their healer decided to make his grand entrance. Her skin burns with what was left from claws of Lichentail, that sensation the most prominent along her chest and she doesn't even want to look at it. She knows it's ugly. But she returned a favor to the blue molly, marked her neck with something she'd never forget. She almost killed her. She was so close, and the thrill of it notably shocked her. Never had she been so angry.
The lead warrior's voice then pulls her back, his question hung in the air like a wool blanket and the tunneler just now had noticed Periwinklebreeze and Silverthorn's absence. Where were they? Were they dead? Did they flee? Bloodied lips curl in distaste, her tail lashing once. "I hope they know better than to run off. Perhaps they're too injured? Should we send a patrol to find them?" Hopefully not dead, she voices quietly to herself. Her ire is still noticed by the scrunch of her brow, blotted crimson and stained, her hatred for RiverClan would never cease. And by stars, the next time Lichentail or any of them would cross her path would be the very last.

​

( You should see me in a crown ; I'm gonna run this nothing town )

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw’s jaw is clenched the entire trek home. Sunstride has taken the reigns, and he’s grateful—he wants to be left alone, smoldering in his thoughts and the feelings of weakness that accompany a loss. He’d have fought Smokethroat until the two of them had been nothing but scraps of fur and bone, but his patrol had consisted of young, inexperienced warriors, and two of them had quickly been laid to waste. The tabby’s chin still drips blood, though it’s slowed considerably, and compared to previous injuries, it hardly smarts at all.

Badgermoon, aghast, waits for a report, alongside Bluepool and Wolfsong. Weaselclaw’s tail lashes once—twice—thrice—and his teeth click together when he speaks. “Yes, RiverClan’s idea of revenge is to hold an apprentice hostage and attack our patrol blindsided.” He sees Cloudedsky nudging her half-sister’s shoulder, and Weaselclaw beckons for her. “Before you go to Vulturemask, I want them to see you. I want your mother to see you.” His lips peel away from his fangs as though his enemy’s throat is before him. “Show them your eye, Cottonpaw. Tell them about how Smokethroat pinned you down while Cicadastar drew his claws over your face.”

He whirls to face Gravelsnap, aghast, echoing a concern about Periwinklebreeze being missing. Weaselclaw’s eyes are still full of fire as he spits, “He jumped from the Twoleg Bridge to escape being killed. Silverthorn was hurt by Hyacinthbreath. There was no time to search the waters for them, but I saw both limping in this direction.” He sinks his claws into the earth, tearing at bits of it.

// specifically asking for @SOOTSTAR , talking to @cottonpaw
​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[Spiderbloom]

This situation felt eerily familiar to the day Juniperfrost died. The late patrol, the worry, the only difference was that everyone returned home.

Beaten and bloody- ah.... It seems not everyone returned home.

Spiderbloom felt her stomach churn, waiting to see Silverthorn or Periwinklebreeze being carried back unrecognizable and beaten to a pulp.

She stands a short distance from the patrol, stuff and fighting back the urge to lose her stomach at the memories mixing with reality. She listens idly to the conversation, trying to at least stay aware of what happened.

Held an apprentice hostage?

Cottonpaw, Sootstar and Weaselclaw's daughter.

It doesn't take her long to realize that's why she was chosen as a hostage. Claws dug into the ground. Her jaw was clenched, and she radiated fear and anger.

What about her kits.

Would those fish brained monsters do the same to hers because of their father?

She trembled for a brief moment before telling herself no, it won't happen. She won't lose them to Riverclan. She'll make sure of it.

Speaking of her kits.... She looked around for them.

"Kits, come here." She called to them. "Look at what Riverclan has done to our clanmates. Remember this when they try to speak as though they are better than us." She says to them.

Littlekit was the first to bumble forward from..... Was that a hole? Was he digging over there? No wonder it had been so quiet. He stood beside her and it stung, the way his happy expression turned to shock and terror.

"Ma...."

"You don't have to look for long, you just need to see."

".......I'm gonna fight fight them. Not right now..... But I WILL." Littlekit declared, puffing up.



(((( @Juniperkit @HOLLYKIT @HOLLYKIT )))​

 

[Badgermoon]

Gravelsnap appeared at Badgermoon's side and he attempted to press his shoulder against the younger warrior's for one brief moment, hoping it would offer some comfort. He knew that Periwinklebreeze was a friend of theirs, and he could only imagine the distress Gravelsnap must be feeling. He remained silent, watching as Cloudedsky and Cottonpaw came deeper into camp and the later was beckoned forth by her father. The deputy's face darkened as he registered what had been done to Sootstar's daughter, and he let out a long breath as he listened to the account of what had happened. "Hostage." he repeated in a quiet voice, as Spiderbloom rounded up her children and Littlekit proclaimed his fury. "They singled her out?" he tried to confirm with Weaselclaw, moving closer to the brown tabby, his dark tail beginning to lash. The circumstances of Periwinklebreeze and Silverthorn's disappearance were certainly troublesome, but what RiverClan had done to the patrol - and to Cottonpaw - had to come first.​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

TAGS — Another day that a patrol returns mired in blood. Scorchkit approaches on quiet cloud-tipped paws, disbelief and frustration drive stakes through her chest. She is not long after her father, her shoulders growing wider to match his own despite the way she hunches around his ankles. She's too anxious to face the returning patrol fully-- not after seeing Houndthistle's marred eye or Sootstar's cut throat the last time. She hates to think that WindClan is making a habit of these losses. They aren't. We aren't, she corrects herself, resolute in her thinking. WindClan is strong because we are resilient. The mantra has changed again, but it's no less comforting.

And yet, discomfort still swirls behind her young eyes. Blood thickens the air with copper; it drips down their warriors' flanks like tree sap off an oak. Gravelsnap asks about Periwinklebreeze; Weaselclaw says he was nearly killed. Scorchkit's breath catches in her throat. Death is still a concept she is trying to make sense of, something not fully grasped-- but stacking stones with Periwinklebreeze is still a memory recent and dear to her. The idea that he could be gone so easily is striking to the young girl. She presses her flank against her father's foreleg, soft kitten ears folding backwards with unspoken fear.

Weaselclaw's display does little to comfort her. One of her denmates rallies as Cottonpaw turns to face them, her face streaked with ugly scars. She'd just seen the apprentice before, back when Rumblekit had had that grasshopper stuck to their face. It's shocking to Scorchkit that something familiar can change so quickly. The wound makes her stomach turn, too, though she feels bad for the fact. Wolfsong and Houndthistle both shared a similar scar, but the freshness of this one is what irks the girl. But she wants to be strong, so she resists the urge to turn her face in to Badgermoon's leg and hide from the sights of defeat. Maybe Scorchstreak will whisk her away again, but for now she'll stay-- for now she will know what it means to be resilient.​

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw walks with no limp. Her paws tread on windswept grass as if they were not scrambling for purchase mere minutes ago. She breathes, in and out, as if the threads of her throat were not threatened to be plucked. The wind blows their scents in every which direction and everything feels so desperately normal - yet so innately not. She veers partially, blinking blood from her eye, and bumps lightly into Cloudedsky. Her sister's presence is as comforting as it isn't, for when she glances upwards towards the grey-and-white she-cat, all she can see beyond the blurry red is a battered and bruised face, loss etched into the other's features.

She can't make fear from sadness, sadness from frustration, from pain, from anger, desperation - Sunstride leads them into camp finally, and his demands are met with little initial pushback. The space around her eye stings as he focuses on her, suggesting she go first. Cloudedsky, too, tries to nudge her towards Vulturemask's den quickly. Her mouth is dry and her pain doesn't dissipate, but she can't help her spot of defiance - You're worse off than I am! She wants to huff at both of them. Why should she take up their medicine cat's time when she - she got away fine? They're damn near bleeding from their hearts and they still attempt to usher her away.

This isn't like the hawk incident. This isn't some mindless beast taking advantage of a stupid kitten. This is worse. Far worse, she would contest, as every patrol member limps into camp, each with a longer laundry list of injuries than the last. This was a case of revenge, and she still the stupid kitten caught in the crossfire. What was I thinking...

The conversation hardly shifts as she remains stubbornly idle, eyebrows furrowing (and paining, just enough,) when Periwinklebreeze and Silverthorn are mentioned to be among the few that didn't return. She, like some of the others, hadn't noticed which way they ran or if they toppled into the river. StarClan, Cottonpaw was too busy trying to stay alive - though again the concept wouldn't have happened if she were simply smarter about her actions. "I want to - I want to go, to find them," she huffs, her voice still incredibly shaky and uncertain. She didn't want to stay in camp again, useless to the Clan due to her stupid, stupid mistakes. She lets out a shaky breath.

Blue eyes, one partially shut and crusted with dried blood, flicker between her sister, Sunstride, and the plethora of warriors now discussing their missing comrades. Weaselclaw's voice cuts the air expertly and Cottonpaw tilts her gaze towards her father, a sense of defiance boiling in her chest. Don't make me stay, she presses her lips firmly together as he beckons for her. Her tail twitches as she steps closer to him, admittedly more comforted by his presence, even whilst he rages and hisses and spits. It was his rivalry that spurred Smokethroat to pick her as easy prey, and yet Cottonpaw slips in beside him with no care for the details.

"I want them to see you. I want your mother to see you." She's not some RiverClanner's trophy - she survived, yet again, with new scars to tell the story. She can either be a cautionary tale for each of the kittens younger than her, or a survivor in her own right. Her throat tightens as she's briefly unsure which the Clan would make her out to be, much more which she would allow herself to be presented as. Her breath comes out shakily and she puffs out her chest, only a little, to try and be perceived as a beacon of strength for her father. She would be damned if she would follow up with tears.

"They're cruel," she states simply. "They - they treated me like a lost rabbit kit. Played like I was nothing more than food. I hadn't even gone over the border," Like they claimed Juniperfrost had. The details for that were blurry for Cottonpaw, being a mere kitten when all that occurred, however she came back alive. She can say with utmost certainty that RiverClanners are scum that drag their prizes over the bridge for fun. She shakes her head and resists the urge to paw at her injury, "Those fish-breaths have no idea what's coming for them..." Though, in truth, neither does she. The threat simply feels right, though it fills her just as much with trepidation and fear.

She sits beside Weaselclaw as the discussion continues, unwavering as he claims where the missing warriors must've gone. His anger is palpable, however in the moment it's not directed at her - and she can hope it won't be for a while yet. Spiderbloom approaches and Cottonpaw allows her injury to be seen by young eyes - just as she had been allowed to see a smashed, dead body around their age. Fitting, she thinks coyly. Spiderbloom makes it a teaching lesson, just as Sootstar had done moons ago. Cottonpaw isn't sure how to feel; she doesn't think on it for too long.

Badgermoon steps closer to her and Weaselclaw, hostage rolling off of his tongue similarly to how it had with her father. She nodded, ears flattening to her head. "I had gone down to the bridge, ahead of the others, and -" She swallows, wincing partially as she recalls the throat wrenching yank Smokethroat committed her to - not to mention pinning her shortly after. Cottonpaw holds her tongue for the moments after that. Most of her wants to think that it was a freak coincidence, that the RiverClan lead warrior would've tortured any dumb apprentice wandering too close. But all the same, in a weird way, it comforts her knowing that there's a chance many of the kittens and other apprentices wouldn't be singled out like she was. She's trying to remedy the shock and terror that still resonate in her chest, and admittedly it's not going so well. She stops talking, ears remaining pinned to her head, and waits quietly for either her mother or Vulturemask to arrive.​

 

[heathermoon !!]

Some had begun to grow worried after the patrol's delay, Heatherpaw included. There were cats in that patrol he rather enjoyed sharing meals with, and when noticing the lack of their return upon his own from training, Heatherpaw had fought not to assume the worst.

The ShadowClan loss had already bruised his belief that WindClan were in StarClans favor. When Sootstar had claimed the swamp-mouthed deputy was making arrangements for the entire forest to attack their home, he had found it impossible to believe. Would the other three Clans truly drive them out? See them eliminated? The stars had prophecized WindClans success just like the others in the forest. What had they done to earn the ire of their neighboring Clan's, other than prevail?

Now, as his Clanmates returned bloodied and gnarled, he felt the deputy's words held some truth. Maybe they were planning to take down WindClan. Sootstar had lost a life to the algae ridden paws of a ShadowClanner, and now her daughter received lashings from their other neighbor.

Of course Heatherpaw's first reaction was to go to his friend, to comfort her, but he didn't want to overcrowd her. He was sure Weaselclaw would make sure she saw Sootstar at once. He does, at least, come close enough to speak to her. "And home is here to greet you again." His voice reassured for both her and himself. He couldn't lose another friend today. "StarClan does not reward their bloodthirst, they will reject the foul-blooded that hurt you. Hurt you all." His gaze swept over the other patrolling cats, his tail whisking behind him as moved to see them all. ​

WINDCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ RED MACKEREL TABBY ✦ 7 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[HOLLYPAW---]

☽༺♰༻☾​

hollykit had already been peeking through body and limb of the older cats, craning to catch a glimpse of what the fuss was all about. blood hung thickly in the air, even the wind did little to diminish it's choking scent. her nose crinkled, not able to spot where it came from as everyone rushed towards the patrol. there was another scent too, its foulness almost drowned out. it tasted wrong as it mingled with the sweet scent of heather and wildflowers.

she caught her mothers clear gaze as it laid upon her and her littermates. the kit followed littlekit closely, nearly tripping over his heels as he bumbled onward. her bottom lip found itself caught between her teeth as she gazed onto the patrol. her brother reacted fearfully, puffing out in a display of anger, but she remained stone face as she listened to cottonpaw retell the events. riverclan. those lowlifes were too unskilled to capture a warrior, opting for a child. stupid. didn't they know that this awful deed would not go unpunished? starclan would bring hell upon them. they had to.
​

 

[Bluepool]

Bluepool is absolutely appalled by the sight of her niece, bloody and scared. She says that RiverClan had treated them like prey and the silver toned warrior has to grit her teeth and bury her claws into the sand. "I pray that the stars will ensure we have vengeance for what those fish breaths have done" She has her own ideas on what that looks like, a few images run through her head of her playing a game of cat and mouse with one of them so they would know what it feels like to be made to feel like a rabbit trapped beneath her claws. She wants to make them feel like they had made her young niece feel "Heatherpaw is right, they will pay" she says, nodding her head, glad that someone so young was so sensible. WindClan could use more cats like him.

​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

The camp explodes in shock and confusion, yowls of terror and fury ring through the air and Sootstar exits her den. Eyes narrowed against the strong breeze, she sees a patrol bleeding, they had been apart of the border patrol to RiverClan. She needs not to be told that Silverthorn and Periwinklebreeze are missing, this she notes immediately along with the presence of her daughter whom was a tunneler. Scratches ran down her face, deep and dripping with blood. Shoving through crowded cats, she approaches Cottonpaw, almost entirely ignoring Cloudedsky who was at her side before giving the injuries a sniff. Moorland eyes glance up at Weaselclaw upon hearing his words, her lip too draws back in a snarl, she looks rabid by the time Cottonpaw finishes explaining that they had treated her like prey, that she had not even crossed their border. Sootstar can hardly stand to hear the cats surrounding her talk about StarClan, talk about how they would not reward RiverClan for this vile deed, that they will be punished. Sootstar knows better! The urge to scold their prayers and hopes is swallowed. ”RiverClan will pay, but not today.” She wanted nothing more than to sink her claws into RiverClan flesh, but unless she was to drive her clan into the ground they must first wait. ”Get checked over by Vulturemask, all of you. Badgermoon, send our strongest to search for Silverthorn and Periwinklebreeze.” With her orders given she pads over to her cinnamon-furred mate, giving his wounds a quick look up and down she gives his cheek a lick. Once again she finds herself thankful for his strength and valor he’s always offered his clan, especially in the threat of RiverClan. Her mind cannot help but drift to the tabby and white lead warrior that had been slain earlier this moon, she sighs, ”WindClan could use Tigerfrost’s strength in times like these.” Her head shakes, what a waste his death had been.

 

[RATTLEHEART]

Much like the others, alarm bells had started to go off in Rattleheart's head as more and more time passed between the departure of the last patrol and their assumed return. He'd never been an expert at controlling his anxiety, and the growing signs of distress passing throughout the camp did nothing to soothe him even as he tried to figuratively bury his head in the dirt. Eyes closed, claws dug down into the earth - clinging to some semblance of normalcy before a coppery scent reached his senses. He recoiled on instinct, jaws parting as the smell of blood grew stronger. The first warning sign of Sunstride rushing into camp, flanked on all sides by injured clanmates. The sharp tang of Riverclan clung to all of them, and Rattle's jaw was set as he finally pushed himself up to his paws. He found his way near Badgermoon's side, green gaze lingering on Scorchkit in concern. She was still so small, she didn't deserve to see something like this.

Especially not so soon after Windclan's last loss.

His long tail twisted around one of his own forelegs, the only way to stop it from twitching and lashing with fury as he growled from the back of his throat. "Cowards. Fox-hearts trying to get their revenge by hurting kits, since they know they can't handle the rest of us. Sootstar will make sure they pay dearly for what they've done..." He's not sure whether he's trying to reassure Scorchkit, or himself. As much as he had questioned the leader's actions in the past, he was at least confident in one aspect of her leadership - she could certainly make others suffer for what they had done. He glances briefly in her direction, making note of the aggrieved snarl on her face before looking towards Badgermoon next.

The sound of his voice was so soft as he addressed the deputy, his request a break from his usual stand back and watch approach, "Badgermoon, I can help with trying to find Periwinklebreeze and Silverthorn, if needed." Whether we're looking for them, or what's left of them, the tom noted bitterly to himself.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

It's all too familiar, Luckykit thinks, and at the same time, it feels downright foreign when the patrol files into camp, the tang he's only just come to recognize as blood hitting his nose. This wasn't anything like the last time - the attack on ShadowClan had been planned, after all - and yet it's all the same to him, injured cats wearing defeat so evidently. The patrol had gone out as normal, he's fairly certain, though at the time the boy had been more occupied with other things; when they hadn't returned on time, he'd hardly noticed, only picking up on a strange, uneasy silence rippling through camp. It's only once the first cat breaks through the gorse tunnel that Luckykit finally understands, and where his clanmates shatter the silence and surge forward, he shrinks back, wanting to hide away somewhere just like last time. Last time, when WindClan had been bested by ShadowClan. Last time, when there shouldn't have been a last time, when they shouldn't be here now, and yet there's no changing the scene laid out before him.

The returning patrol talks of an attack by RiverClan, Weaselclaw and Cottonpaw filling in the gaps, but truthfully, most of it goes over Luckykit's head as he stands stock-still, taking in the myriad of wounds staining pelts red. When his clanmates had filtered in after their previous loss, he hadn't gotten a good look at any of their injuries when they were still fresh and unbandaged, still half-way hidden in the nursery, and he has to steel himself not to flinch away from the red marks that marred their pelts, Cottonpaw's especially. Silently, Luckykit slips through the crowd until he's found Scorchkit at Badgermoon's side, aiming to press up against her free side in a display of comfort, though for her benefit or his, he isn't entirely sure. Perhaps it's because he knows Cottonpaw in passing, or even just because she's so young, closer in age to himself and his siblings, but her wounds seem viscerally wrong in a way that leaves him cold with fear. What if it had been Scorchkit, Frostkit, Rumblekit, standing there, blood dripping down their faces? What if it had been him?

All this talk of retribution, the outrage of the situation, hardly comforts him. Similar words had been thrown around after the ShadowClan defeat, and what had they been met with? Another defeat, this time at the paws of RiverClan instead. When would they get their so-called justice, their divine punishment for the Clans that had wronged them, brought down by StarClan? They favored Sootstar, Badgermoon had said - that's why she was given nine lives to lead and protect the Clan. This didn't look like favoritism, though; it was more like the silence that gripped him now, unyielding and pervasively oppressive. Maybe StarClan was just waiting for the perfect moment to carry WindClan to victory and put the other Clans to shame, though if you asked Luckykit he'd rather they just bring fortune now instead of waiting. Maybe there was something they were waiting on, or maybe they were too busy with something else. Either way, the truth of the matter is this - WindClan is not invulnerable, not immune to defeat. It's a tough lesson to learn, even tougher to fully understand, and yet the second loss in a row drags the idea unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts. Still, they're strong, aren't they? Nobody had died last time, and the two missing cats this time had both been seen leaving the scene of the fight - despite the unease in his chest that they hadn't yet returned, Luckykit doesn't entertain the possibility that they might be lost for good. They are strong, even if they have to lose a battle or two. In the end, everybody else will see; WindClan will stand firm, and Sootstar will direct them to deliver back twice as much pain as they've experienced as of late.​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​

 

[SILVERTHORN]

ALL NIGHT GAMER​

---

"You can focus on finding Periwinklebreeze." A hoarse voice rose up from the camp's entrance as the ex-kittypet limped through his tedious return. He looked worse for wear between his shredded ear and aching form, and his roughened voice was unrecognisable in comparison to his former tone that the clan had come to know. Nearly drowning had caused the change, and even now his lungs still screamed in agony with every wheezed breath.

Right now he simply wanted to get patched up and to have a much needed sleep. Silverthorn mustered up the last reserves of his strength in order to keep his head held high as he made his way past his peers. At least they wouldn't need to go running around looking for him now. "I'm surprised they would even bother suggesting it..." Maybe he had some worth after all.
​

 

[whitedawn]

"Return to camp. Get Sootstar and Vulturemask. Be swift. Do not lose yourself."
Her mentor's words still rang in her ears as she sprinted for camp, shooting out from the tunnels. In a way, she was still reeling from finding a clanmate who wasn't even a tunneler, sequestered in a tunnel, bloody and beaten. She reached the camp as soon as she could, the wind howling in her ears as she caught Sootstar and Silverthorn's voice on the breeze. "S-Sootstar!" The usually soft-spoken molly called out as she entered the camp, her eyes darting to those injured. What had happened? "Vulturemask-- Peri-Periwinklebreeze is in one of the tunnels. He-He's alive but still unconscious when Ambertail had me come to help him." She explained, her ears pinned back. While not close to the warrior, she still considered him a good clanmate. She only hoped they were okay.

//white is immediately coming from this thread which is happening at the same time!​

[I'M BREATHING]​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

They have never been one to believe in prayer; the stars, if they do control fate, certainly do not want to interfere. They certainly have a plan, an idea of how things should go. But now, they realize that the stars do listen, perhaps. Because while the din of everyone else around them fades to a dull roar, while words like hostage and revenge fly like darting bugs, Whitepaw appears with a shout of their leader’s name. For a cat normally so quiet, it’s strange to hear her speaking up. But she says what they wished for. Peri isn’t dead. Peri is alive.

They look to Vulturemask, seeking—what? What are they seeking? Confirmation, perhaps, that the black and white warrior is worth the healer’s aid. "Where…" they murmur, voice low. "Where is he?" Take me to him. Wide, intense hazel eyes are fixed on Whitepaw’s, panic crystal clear in their expression. Periwinklebreeze is alive, and that’s a relief—but he’s hurt. And he’s not here, not insisting he’s fine in that stuttering, stilted voice. No, he’s not here because he’s unconscious, weak in the way Gravelsnap has only seen when the other refused to eat. He’s not here because those RiverClan pondscum decided to set their claws to Cottonpaw’s face—and oh, what a ruin they’ve made of it. Gravelsnap wants to go to her, to help her in any way that they can, but she is being seen to by her mother already.

For now, they can focus on the relief that floods their body, warring with sadness and rage and a desire for vengeance that could nearly make them sick with the force of it. RiverClan will pay. But first, the clan needs to bring Peri home.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

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