SO LET'S GO NOWHERE ↷ [ giving chase ]



The verdict holds: Granitepelt and his conniving sister are welcome within the swamp no longer. If they truly bought into the farcical narrative woven together before the entire clan - that they were tainted, so devoid of redeeming qualities - then the punishment shouldn't particularly disturb them. After all, it was on those premises Granitepelt deemed taking lives an acceptable measure, was it not?

Now, having wrought havoc against a community held in such profound disdain, official consent has been sanctioned for the duo's departure. Hardly a commensurate punishment—and considering the ideology so vigorously preached by the condemend, it's more of a pat on their backs than a swat on their wrists. But true authority eluded the deputy's grasp. As to whether Chilledstar would have willed their death warrants remains up for debate, and even in death does their say supercede his own.

At least this little scheme he's devised puts their fates in the capricious paws of chance. Sure, Granitepelt and Siltcloud are exiled, provided they can escape ShadowClan's waiting claws.

With @ROOSTERSTRUT and @Skunktail at his flank, Smogmaw sees to the delinquents' forceful removal from camp. Pawsteps propel him to terminal velocity until he's a smoky blur amongst the underbrush. Momentum drawn from sheer animosity, he seems intent on flattening any reed in his path. Every exhalation carries a heavy grunt, or an uttered threat, or a curse unfit for younger ears.

He despises them, wholly. He despises the theatrics they made out of their debauchery. The poison Granitepelt spread for whatever petty reason. His partner in crime, the acolyte happy to subscribe, eager for some shared infamy, no matter how sordid or destructive. Their impotent refusal to admit wrongdoing. The game-playing. The whole damned sham they orchestrated. All Smogmaw wishes for, right now, is for justice to take the form of his maw locked around Granitepelt's windpipe for a second time, albeit permanently this next go-around.

But his breath catches up to him. Lungs lack the strength found in his limbs, and the respective ginger and gloomy forms of Roosterstrut and Skunktail surpass him. Smogmaw struggles to make up for lost distance with another burst of speed, yet it's fruitless—a frail cough surges past his mouth, and Siltcloud and her brother become lost to the night's shadow.

It is now up to his clanmates to see to the task's completion.

 
He had been called upon to commence the chase. Roosterstrut can't think of a reason why Smogmaw would seek out him, of all cats. It isn't as if he feels proud of this opportunity, either. Other cats may feel more vengeful and bloodthirsty than he was at the moment and would gladly take his place in giving chase to the criminals who betrayed ShadowClan, but Roosterstrut just felt... sick. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to curl up in his nest, bury his nose into his arms, and hope that he would wake up from some sort of twisted nightmare.

However, this was his reality, and his deputy had given him an order. Roosterstrut would not disobey Smogmaw, no matter their past grievances with one another. He had a task to do — rid the marshlands of these traitors.

In a rare show of sickened anger and frothing disgust, the red tabby hissed and snarled as he joined Smogmaw and Skunktail in running the siblings out. He feels torn. Should one of them turn around, try to fight back, would he kill them? Could he even bring himself to? Too many innocent cats had died before their time to justify Granitepelt and Siltcloud escaping with their lives, but... Roosterstrut does not know if he could ever have the stomach to kill. He knows the weight of death personally. He does not want to be the reason for the light leaving another feline's eyes. The elements, the unforgiving harshness of leafbare, could make do with the newly-made rogues instead.

For now, he keeps driving the two rogues out, orange paws thundering against the cold ground like the drums of war, at least until the other ShadowClanners taking cover in the darkness leap out to metaphorically take the torch from him.

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    ROOSTERSTRUT
    —— he/him; warrior of shadowclan
    —— heteroflexible; single
    —— red tabby tom with long hair and pale green eyes
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles
 
Frostbite wasn't going to play fair with these two, he had set himself up near the entrance to camp to be able to attack them the moment they burst through the entrance. They did not deserve a modicum mercy for what they've done. He did not know who would be coming out first, but whoever it was was going to get shredded. Echoes of the words spoken rang through his mind as he waited and his hatred only grew. His goal was to kill, and if he couldn't kill them, he would leave them with wounds to remember. He was going to make good on his threat to leave Granitepelt mangled on the thunderpath for Sootstar to find. He thinks of Poppypaw, so close to her warrior ceremony, how he had blamed himself for not being there when she needed him most... Knowing the truth now....

Vengeance would be his. No matter how long it takes, no matter how gruesome it will be, it will be his.

Crouched behind reeds in a shallow pool of water, he waited. And when it was time... When he heard pawsteps rapidly approaching him....

He sprung.

A shrill screech and extended claws are what surged to greet Siltcloud the moment she came within range, sharp claws aimed to dig into her back as she sped by. Siltcloud would likely be too fast for him to catch, Frostbite was fast, but not as fast as her. His best bet if he wanted to kill her was to do it right now. If he could grip her hard enough to yank off her course and finish her with one quick bite, he could focus on his main target.

@Siltcloud.
 
NEVER REALLY UNDERSTOOD
THEY WAY YOU LAID YOUR EYES ON ME
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siltcloud & 19 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan exile
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'You knew...and still let me love you...'

Lilacfur's words echo over and over again in her mind as she moves - clouding her mind and heart with a sense of pain she'd though herself resigned to, prepared for. She'd been wrong. Though they may never have put a label on it, they'd been together - in love. And she'd ruined it long before it'd ever begun. Perhaps, she should've just kept her selfish feelings to herself - if she had, would things hurt less?

And there is no time left to think, to plan. She's left only with what half-formed ideas she's made during the argument, mind running wild as shouts had echoed across camp. There's hardly a word of warning before they're being chased - pursued. hunted. She doesn't even barely make it past the walls of camp before she feels the first claws sink into flesh - and green eyes turn violent.

She'd only meant to run, to flee - she holds no hard feelings towards any of her clanmates in particular after all, at least none of the living. But when the dust hued molly meets snow-white fur, she feels the anger she's been trampling down all night finally rear its head - white hot and venomous. Like a snake, frostbite strikes - his screech echoing loudly in her ears- and she retaliates just as ferociously.

As flesh and fur tears painfully, she's already rearing back - a feral look so unlike the siltcloud shadowclan is familiar with crossing her face, and five-toed paw slamming down towards the tom with well honed precision. She feels claws hit their mark, and she lets out a vicious growl of satisfaction. This may not have been the exact situation she'd had in mind when she'd haunted the streets of twolegplace like a dirt-strewn shadow, but it's certainly come in handy nonetheless.

It's truly a shame she's running for her life, because she knows it'd be satisfying to sink teeth into tender flesh, add another body to the count. But there is no time - they are not alone, she can feel the creeping sense of their onlookers, staring at her with their wicked eyes. And so she wrenches herself away, taking advantage of momentary slip up to leap over the nearest cat in a surprising show of agility. Her brother is long forgotten - he'd gotten them into this dung-hole, certainly he can get himself out of it.

And then she's off - the hounds hot on her heels. Because that's what shadowclan has been reduced to - dogs, foaming at the mouth over perceived slights, of injustice. They're just begging to get their claws into her, sink teeth into her flesh - she will not allow them the satisfaction.


actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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A N D S O I T S E E M S I B R O K E Y O U R H E A R T
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@Frostbite
// please not that while y/c is welcome to attempt to catch/injure her, only preplanned attacks will be hitting for plot reasons <3 everything else will be dodged, miss, or jumped over - sorry
 
BLINDED BY THE LIGHTS

no, no! th-this can't be happening! as soon as smogmaw made it clear they had to chase the two criminals out, a part of caterpillarpaw broke. she didn't know granitepelt all that well, and his crimes were understandably punished. but siltcloud... she couldn't have been that bad! she was nice to her, she was always kind and she watched out for her! without her, caterpillarpaw would not make it. with a shake of her head, she ran through the forest, nose and ears working overtime to try and not trip. she's never even left camp without her mentor, save for one time but even then she was with someone. this was terrifying.

"s-siltcloud... g-gotta find... s-siltcloud!"

she wheezed, running around aimlessly. she had to hide. she had to–

the commotion of everything makes her jolt. the sound of paws thrumming against the forest floor makes her go. she doesn't know where she's going but she has to find siltcloud. to convince her to stay– convince everyone to let her stay. she can't leave her behind. in spite of her words, she wouldn't make it without her. she just wouldn't.

"siltcloud! pl-please don't hurt her! oh, stars, i-i don't know where... where am i at? I've... i don't remember this part of the territory... s...siltcloud..."

she whined as she slowed down, brows furrowing as her nose sniffed around. too many new scents and nothing familiar enough. she was lost... and she'd never find siltcloud like this.

i'm so sorry, ma... i... failed again. i can't save siltcloud. I'm not strong enough.

//in and practically out LMAO baby girl got herself lost like the girlfailure she is <3
 
Slate-colored paws thrum across the marshes as a winded, stumbling Granitepelt flees his would-be exterminators. Roosterstrut and Skunktail wave past Smogmaw—he can nearly feel their breath at his heels, can imagine their teeth closing in on their legs. He knows what awaits him and Siltcloud if they fumble their escape; multiple cats had cried for their blood in camp. He can feel her beside him, swift and streamlined—until a mass of white fur emerges from the shadows and tangles with her skinny form. Granitepelt hisses in Frostbite’s direction, but he does not stop.

He heads for the Thunderpath, hoping Siltcloud can disengage herself and renew her sprint. He heads for WindClan.

[ disclaimer: granitepelt will be making it out alive, sorry! feel free to launch any attacks. i will be using RNG to determine which ones hit and which ones permanently scar. no attempt except killing blows are off limits to try though! ]



, ”
 
———————————she/her | menacing ——————————
Scalejaw had left camp before the chase patrol had. Her legs were stretched, her body slipping through the shadows and throw the twisting marsh to make it ahead of their path. Her ears twitched and swiveled as the chase began. She could hear the drumming paws- but she missed Smogmaw falling behind. Scalejaw slipped out into their path, fangs beared and orange, coal eyes aflame with fury.

Murderers. Accomplices. Kit-stealers. Future killers. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Scalejaw started to run at them. Granitepelt was before her first, her first target. Tongue licked ivory as she hit the gas, claws unsheathing. Wicked talons aimed to sail through the air as @GRANITEPELT ran past, attempting to cleave a mean line down the side of his throat and shoulder. Whether or not she was successful, Scalejaw was rushing towards Siltcloud. She was falling behind, Frostbite's attack having caused a means of pain.

Teeth and talon alike flashed out at @Siltcloud. 's rear leg as she tried to run past, claws digging into the inside of her leg and fangs in the outside of her leg. This would slow her down, and hopefully, her brother's spilled blood would leave a thick enough trail for the others.

"yuh"
[penned by dallas].
 
He feels his claws tear through flesh and quickly feels claws tear through his own, across his eye. An angry growl erupts from him fitting a dog more than a cat as his jaws audibly snap at her as she gets out of range while he wipes blood from his eye.

Siltcloud wasn't the one who truly angered him, though. She just happened to be the one to reach him first. Hearing Granitepelt hiss at him reminds him of his true target, his true goal. He takes off after him while Scalejaw goes for Siltclouds leg. She's already hit Granitepelt, and Frostbite intends to spill the rest of his blood.

He takes off once more, pushing himself to sprint as fast as he can to catch up with Granitepelt, and when he finally reaches neck and neck with him, he clamps his jaws onto his neck and shoves him down with him into the mud and quickly pins Granitepelt beneath him.
Slamming a paw onto his chest to hold him in place, he lets go of Granitepelt's neck and stares him in the eyes as he begins to dig the claws of his other paw into his stomach, threatening to tear into soft flesh.


But Granitepelt wouldn't be brought down so easily. His claws dug into Frostbite's shoulders as he tried to writhe free, and with a powerful kick to his stomach, he manages to dislodge Frostbite and stop his attempt to rip his stomach open. Frostbite may not have succeeded, but the moment Granitepelt takes off again, He's sure to keep close behind him.

((Permission given to powerplay by marq! @GRANITEPELT ))​
 
Scorchedmoon was not a violent cat, not by a long shot. But there is one thing that he believes in, and that is equality. An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. If you do something so deplorable as kill an innocent apprentice, there should be no mercy for you. And when it comes to Granitepelt, he has done that and more. Hearing him confirm just how many cats he’s truly killed made Scorchedmoon lose any respect he may have had for him, and even that was minuscule.

He’s always had a bad feeling about Granitepelt, but he thought it was only a clash of personality. Not that he had killed three whole apprentices, on top of their previous leader. Pitchstar may have been slowly slipping, but to take away the rest of his lives in such a horrific manner…no. He has absolutely no sympathy for him. He even had the audacity to take one of Chilledstar’s own when he was revealed to have kidnapped Smogmaw’s kits, and taken them to Sootstar, of all cats! Sootstar!

Scorchedmoon feels the hatred burning up inside, a feeling he’s never experienced before. He tries to see the best in all cats, but when it comes to Granitepelt, there is no good. Nothing to excuse him for. So, for once in his life, he will draw blood willingly.

And if Granitepelt doesn’t make it out of ShadowClan alive, then so be it. This is what he has brought upon himself, after all.

He had been hiding in the shadows as instructed, piercing orange eyes glowing as he stalks the blue tom, waiting for his next move. It didn’t take long for the coward to bolt, and like some of the clan, he is on the chase. He only follows for the time being, allowing those who truly have suffered from Granitepelt’s wrath to get their hits in. He can have his chance later.

And then there’s the fact of Siltcloud and her being an accomplice. Scorchedmoon is not as angry as her, because if there’s one thing Granitepelt is good at, it’s being manipulative. He managed to hide his misdeeds from ShadowClan somehow, after all. Even so, he let him continue to kill innocents. And while he might not be aiming for her, he can’t find it in himself to care what happens to her either.

After Granitepelt manages to worm his way out of Frostbite’s deadly grasp, he makes his move. The corners of his mouth rise, in both an eerie grin and a snarl. He laughs from the adrenaline, and then lashes out with his claws, raking them against one of Granitepelt’s front legs. He does not directly aim to kill, so if he at least experiences excruciating pain, he is satisfied.

Scorchedmoon’s hair-raising smile does not falter.​