STATE YOUR NAME, STATE YOUR CASE | return

[slateheart]

The stink of Twolegs and their sickly clean artificial homes follows Slateheart into WindClan's territory. There's a lingering scent of water and fish wound into his pelt from his night spent pressed into Troutsnout's fur - but he has since fabricated a story in his head, preparing for the barrage of questions to come.

Slateheart rehearses his explanation in his head. It was coincidence - StarClan sent him at just the right time to see a lone RiverClanner being kidnapped. The good in him, the savior, it extends not only to his own clan; he acted out of instinct, no ulterior motive. Would've done the same for anyone. They kept them both in a cage, pressed together - how he loathed the scent of RiverClan then, the feel of her sleek fur. He had no choice.

It was nothing like what really happened. He was there on purpose, and in the moment, he couldn't bear the thought of never seeing his newfound friend again. He chose to sleep with her that night, cuddled into her fur like it was his familiar nest at home. WindClan would never hear of his real motives during that week, at least.. not those he didn't trust with his life.

As soon as Lichenstar set him free, Slateheart beelined for the moors. In a rush of adrenaline, his body forgot that it was without fuel. By the stars, he felt he'd never ran so fast in his life. By the time he crossed the bridge, he spared a last glance to RiverClan's territory - to Troutsnout, the cat he was captured alongside - and bid her a silent farewell. Then, again, he ran.

Slateheart must have just missed the morning patrols, for he made it to camp without little intervention. He slows as he bounds up to the ridge of WindClan's hollow, letting his green gaze fall upon the cats inside. One pair of eyes raises to him, double takes, and then whispers to the next - before he knows it, there are many. His presence is known.

It is now that Slateheart's adrenaline wears off, and he's left to face the consequences of such a long run without little more than kittypet slop. The black-furred tom wavers for a few moments, and then keels forward. He buckles forward and stumbles into the dirt, heaving for breath as his lungs burn. A smile grows upon his maw - he never thought he'd see his home, and.. here he was, just outside, looking in at the cats he once feared he'd never greet again. His stomach aches, feels as if it was consuming itself. Oh, how he just craved for a juicy rabbit right about now..

// ooc - slate is just outside camp! it's been about a week ic and what cats can gather now is that he smells of riverclan and twoleg, and has been eating very scarcely. anyone is free to interact but honorarily tagging @SUNSTAR <3
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• 

  slate slatepaw slatetooth SLATEHEART
  ━━ MOOR-RUNNER WARRIOR of WINDCLAN
  ━━ 23 MOONS,, ages every 6th
  ━━ LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE xx SILVERFOOT
  ━━ SIBLING to GRAVELSNAP and ASHPAW
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to BEEPAW | MENTORED by LYNXTOOTH​
  ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♡ | generally healthy, but experiencing shortness of breath.
  
• 
  
  
• speech is #bbbb88​

 

[Firefang]

Word traveled in Windclan's camp but even if it didn't Firefang recognized that Slateheart was nowhere to be found - a reliable steadfast warrior and even if more quiet and contemplative then some she'd noticed his absence. They were never quiet friends, but they'd grown up together and that counted for something they'd seen the moors unravel had tasted war, hunger, and then flames. If she knows anything about him he wasn't the type to leave without saying a word, he had too much keeping him hear loyalties that bound him he just wouldn't abandon them. She'd been lounging in the sun, sprawled out and comfortable eyes half lidded and sleepy - they quickly open as voices beckon and meow out a familiar name. She lifts herself up casting her gaze up to where they see the blackened fur of their missing warrior. He's not dead but alarm courses through her seeing him collapse. She doesn't care to sit in gawk, she'd done enough laying around had wasted away in the dull shade of the medicine den while the world continued without her. No longer, maybe if she'd been attentive he'd have never gone to Starclan knows where.

She bounds to him ignoring the protests her healing leg gives her, "Slateheart!" her voice is not soft not welcoming but neither does it ring with aggression - there's a pang of concern as she comes up to him. Her head lowering to nose him testing the air to see if the tang of blood clung to him but instead she's barraged with unfortunately familiar scents. She reels her head back, maw opening and eyes squinting as she adjusts to it, to him. "What in Starclan's name have you been up to" she meows shaking off her surprise. She knows where at least she has a estimation "What happened? Why do you smell like-" she stops and shakes her head and though she wants answers the tom looks more ragged then she's ever seen him. He'd seen better days, she wonders if he even has the energy to answer her he looked just about ready to knock himself out. She takes a breath agitation lighting within her "Nevermind that you can answer when I get you back on your paws and to Sunstar. Come on!"

She bumps her head against his shoulder lightly and would wait for him to stand properly and when/if he did would offer her shoulder silently if he needed the support.

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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  text
  

• "speech"

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  Firefang ✩ She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 24 moons
  ⭃ Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

➴➴ Gravelsnap has long given up on seeing their black-furred littermate again. Cats who disappear are often never seen again—at least alive—and it seems that Slateheart has joined the ranks of those cats. The past few nights, they have found themself gazing up at the night sky, wondering whether their brother now watches them from their mother’s side. The idea has made them wonder as well whether their father has joined StarClan; their nose wrinkles with disgust at the thought. They don’t like thinking of Slateheart as dead, but what other options do they have?

The warrior has entirely given up on finding their bother. Slateheart now lies amongst WindClan’s lost; whether dead or alive, they won’t know what happened to him until a body is found, if ever. But when Firefang’s voice rings out in the tom’s name, the black-patched warrior is on his feet in an instant. He darts in the direction of the sound, eel-black tail flickering behind him, and tears nearly spring to his eyes when he finally sees the other tom. Firefang has already offered her aid to him, but Gravelsnap does not stay far away. "Slateheart!" Their voice rises with panic first, and then with relief. Black-patched paws move of their own accord, and before they know it they are standing just a tail-length away from their brother. "You’re alive," they murmur, their gaze softening. They can scent the strangeness that clings to his fur, but any fury they may feel toward the smell of RiverClan and twoleg pales in comparison to the intensity of their relief.

➼ maybe i’ve done enough

• ooc: —
• 
  GRAVELSNAP ❯❯ they/he, moor runner of windclan
  ⭃ average-sized black and white warrior who seems smaller than he is. speaks rarely and quietly.
  ⭃ sibling to slateheart
  ⭃ mentoring sheeppaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ⭃ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[dimmingsun]

Logically speaking, Dimmingsun knows he has to let it go. Clanmates mysteriously disappearing is nothing new — it happened before and will happen again, despite all their best efforts. Hope is a beautiful thing, but not when it has the possibility of leading them all by their noses, forcing them to turn a blind eye to the cruel facts.

But it feels so much more cruel to succumb to said facts. To decide that Slateheart won't ever return back to camp, that it's foolish to try and find him after all this time. So, Dimmingsun doesn't let that become reality, not within the safety of his mind; he doesn't mention it unless someone speaks his friend's name, not wishing to combat arguments that makes more sense than his, but he never lets his heart twist with bitterness and sadness. Slateheart will return home.

And on a fateful day, he really does come home.

"Slateheart," the name slips from Dimmingsun's maw like a shaky breath, like he hadn't expected to mutter it in this context ever again. He follows after Firefang and almost sways on his paws right there. Gravelsnap is there too, but there's space still on the other side of Slateheart, and Dimmingsun takes it like he owns it. Eyes glint with uncertainty- will Slateheart disappear from view if he blinks enough times?

Once, twice. Another, just for good measure.

And Slateheart is still there. He smells funny, but joy shoves any other emotion right out of Dimmingsun's windows. "You're okay." It's both a question and a statement; there is no blood or haunted look on Slateheart's face, so it must be true.
​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

PLAY US LIKE PAWNS AND RELENTLESSLY CONFINE
INTO LIVING UP TO GENDER ROLES AND HAVING ABSENT MINDS ​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 22 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan queen ​

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The sound of Firefangs voice is as grating upon ink dipped ears as ever, but wat she says is not - eyes widening as he jolts to his paws to see if it is true. With his new role in mind, he's not been allowed out on patrol to look, to search - instead confined to camp and left awaiting news from others. But sure enough, a familiar black furred figure is padding into camp, worse for wear and reeking of twolegs and riverclan and stars only know what else but home nonetheless.

There is joy, there is relief - all expected really - and then, something darker flashes through his gaze. Disappointment, bitter and cloying on his tongue as bile stings the back of his throat. Because Slateheart is alone. There is no golden furred feline behind him, and it makes his chest ache with grief. He'd hoped - prayed - that if whatever had gotten Slateheart had gotten Sunflowermask too, that they'd have returned together. But they hadn't.

Caught up in his thoughts, his grief, in the end the boy says nothing, the 'welcome home' dying on his tongue before he even begins to speak. Instead, he falls back to the sidelines as Gravelsnap greets their brother, as Dimmingsun abnd Firefang welcome the warrior home. And in the end, Periwinklebreeze says nothing.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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Don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live?​

Don't you think it's funny how we're all delinquent kids?​

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[SUNSTAR]

A chorus of Slateheart! rouses Sunstar — not from his den, for once, but from the meal he had slowly partaken in, bite by bite, in an effort of. . . something which he cannot name. Strength, perhaps. Will. Wolfsong had ordained him to rest and recover, and he had denied him everything. The trust that he had once thought akin to the blood in his veins now soured. (It was not that it was gone. It still beat alongside his heart, ever-present, and he denied it again and again; refused it. Refused Wolfsong.) What he does now is not for the medicine cat's sake but his own. The purpose, then, must be nothing more than spite. Why rely on Wolfsong, when he can heal on his own? Lead on his own, live as his own.

Slateheart has found comfort in a RiverClanner and it is strange how these things come around, because today Sunstar denies his own comfort so wholly it tastes like conviction. An old memory, then, of the snark from across the border with a RiverClanner many moons ago. How Wolfsong had delighted in his banter. He bites it down hard at the fish-stench wafting through their camp. "Slateheart?" he asks, disbelieving, but without wariness or mistrust on his tongue. "Bring him further inside," he commands in affirmation of what Firefang already does, jerking his head to the warrior. At that, a different scent catches his nose. The stench of twoleg dens. Nearly as bad as the thunderpath, or the freshly-dropped things along Horseplace fences. "You smell terrible."

Like Periwinklebreeze, he thinks of Sunflowermask and Spotpaw. They too were taken by twolegs, were they not? But they are not here. And at least for now there are other things to ask.

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) 〚 06.03 〛 🟒ᨒ

• ooc: —
• ↟ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆  ⋆̶̬́̀
  ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.
  
  
  
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.

• "speech"

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[slateheart]

Slateheart's weary smile remains as he is greeted by his Clanmates - Firefang at the forefront, surprisingly but not unwelcome, and soon after followed by Gravelsnap and Dimmingsun.

He addresses Firefang first, returning her friendly head-bump with a brief nudge of his own as he waveringly gets back to his paws. He readily accepts the shoulder offered to him, feeling the fatigue weigh him down heavily. Every part of him screamed for food and oxygen, and he has to take some time to catch his breath before he can finally respond to her inquiries. "It's.. a long story.." he murmurs. Thankfully, she understands, and spares him the answer for now - he would much rather say it in front of everyone, than split the story between several different cats. Especially given the way his lungs heaved for air.

Gravelsnap is at his side in near the same instant as Firefang, and Slateheart beams at the sight of his littermate. "I'm alive," he reaffirms. Gravelsnap's relief is not missed, and is shared with some of Slateheart's own. He had worried day and night about his littermate of all cats who had lost so much in the previous moons; their father, their apprentice, their bond with Periwinklebreeze.. it pained Slateheart greatly that he may add to this growing list of mourn. "I'm.. glad to see you.." They're in one piece, strong and stoic as always.

Dimmingsun takes up an open space on the other side of Slateheart, and he leans forward to touch his nose to the golden warrior's ear. "I am okay," he repeats the same confirmation that he had given Gravelsnap. A reassurance to them, but also to himself, as if to confirm that this isn't like the dreams of coming home that he's had for many nights, that he won't wake up at Troutsnout's side in that wretched monster-nest. "I missed.. all of you. I thought I wouldn't.. come home.." His voice comes out between tired breaths; he's exhausted. There's one cat he'd have to save his breath for yet.

Past Periwinklebreeze, who keeps his distance (not that Slateheart has the energy or will to mind), Sunstar rises from his meal and calls them over. With the aid of Firefang whom he leans on, the two hobble into camp and he allows himself to crouch down to regain his strength, and relieve Firefang of her own. "Thank you," he mumbles to the black tabby, then finally raises his gaze to Sunstar. His comment on Slateheart's scent begs explanation, one that he still owes to Firefang's questions as well.

"I hadn't the time to wash it off before I came home," he starts awkwardly. He had ran straight home as soon as Lichenstar was finished with her own questioning; in his own excitement to return to his Clanmates, he wouldn't waste even a moment to groom his fur. Guilty as he felt to bring such an awful stench into camp, he doesn't regret his haste. "I.. I don't know where to start. I was taken by.. by Twolegs."

That answer wouldn't be simple enough. The Twoleg scent was strong, but so was RiverClan; he feared he wouldn't get by with half an explanation. "I was by RiverClan. By their bridge. By fate.. one of their warriors was nearby, and she got grabbed." Slateheart closes his eyes, reliving his experience. The panic and fear that consumed him, compelled him to act. He told himself that he'd do the same for any cat, whether RiverClan or ThunderClan, kit or warrior.. but.. "I - my instinct drove my paws. I couldn't just.. sit by and watch.. how could I live with myself?.. I tried to aid her, to no avail. They - the Twolegs - got us both."

"They took us deep into RiverClan's territory. A camp. Other cats were taken, too.. it was awful." He rejected their food (until he could reject no longer), the lifeless snake they had tried to put around his neck, the comradery of their kittypets.. all in the hope that it was not permanent, that he would return soon. There was something vicious in him those days, in the way he lashed out at the Twolegs' prying paws. It was not futile. He was home, now. "RiverClan got their warriors out - in thanks for.. trying to help their warrior, they got me out, too."

​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• 

  slate slatepaw slatetooth SLATEHEART
  ━━ MOOR-RUNNER WARRIOR of WINDCLAN
  ━━ 23 MOONS,, ages every 6th
  ━━ LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE xx SILVERFOOT
  ━━ SIBLING to GRAVELSNAP and ASHPAW
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to BEEPAW | MENTORED by LYNXTOOTH​
  ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♡ | generally healthy, but experiencing shortness of breath.
  
• 
  
  
• speech is #bbbb88​

 

[kitecall.]

speaking color is #BBE8EF​

➾ KITEPAW. AND HOW CAN WE WIN WHEN FOOLS CAN BE KINGS? † ☼
𖤓 ✟—- the boy twitches an ear and raises his head as he hears the sudden commotion taking place in camp... a flurry of cats with voices amazed, worried, relieved... all of them had the common factor that it involved slateheart. kitepaw hadn't ever found himself to be close to the moor-runner, but when he had gone out and not come back, he couldn't help but worry for the worst. a worry that only further amplified at the cats that had followed after him: spotpaw, sunflowermask... like many others, he'd began to accept that none of them were coming back. but here was slateheart standing before them, and kitepaw could only hope that the others would soon follow. eager to know what happened, he trod to where the group gathered, lending an ear to slateheart's story.

twolegs. kitepaw cannot tell if his nose wrinkles at the thought of them alone, or if it was the sudden smell of fish that rolls off the newly returned that hit him. starclan does he stink. he tries to push past this however, lending his own tongue in question. "what about spotpaw and sunflowermask? do the twolegs have them too?" he asks, hopeful that they may be alive too. "riverClan got their warriors out - in thanks for.. trying to help their warrior, they got me out, too." slateheart's comment causes his pelt to prick, however. it's disgusting that riverclan would free slateheart for a heroic act of their own benefit, yet leave his friends to stay trapped within the grasp of twolegs... that's how it seemed to him. (kitepaw knows that there was no solid proof right now to back up his claims, but he cannot help but wish for the best and know they are safe, albeit.... not. he cannot help but leap to such a conclusion of what may be false hope.)

while relieved that they had kept slateheart alive, twolegs had no respect for their boarders, or those of any clan for that matter it seemed. he has noticed on patrol that they didn't even hesitate to acknowledge their scent markings... and kitepaw wonders if they were back in windclan to finish off what they started. "starclan... they will not stop until the moor is destroyed...." such a thought is frightening, but he fears that's the only option. were they going to destroy riverclan too? for helping them during a time of need?

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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• KITEPAW ✩ he/him, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, 8 moons old
  ⭃ average sized tomcat with light cream tabby markings. he has a white chest and half face. his fur is a medium length and he has large whiskers. his eyes are a light blue.
  ⭃ highly religious, stubborn and hard-working, kindhearted and charismatic, honest, diligent, foolish and impulsive when frustrated, will speak out when something feels unjust.
  ⭃ open to minor and minor powerplay / / underline and tag when attacking ⇌ see his bio here
  ⭃ penned by @DOFFERZ! ⇌ doffloppa on discord, feel free to dm for plots. template credit to vayle.
  
  
  
  
  

​

 

[dimmingsun]

Slateheart talks, and his voice gracing Dimmingsun's ears again feels like proof enough that he really is here, that this thinly-veiled vision won't get whisked away by a stronger gust of wind. He reassures Gravelsnap first, then Dimmingsun — who trails beside him to offer another shoulder, should Firefang stumble under weight that leans on her so soon after her recovery.

Periwinklebreeze offers... nothing. Dimmingsun almost raises a brow at the surprising silence, but then he remembers- Sunflowermask, Spotpaw. The young voice of Kitepaw chimes in then to ask their whereabouts... but when Slateheart explains the story to Sunstar, Dimmingsun doubts there's a chance the other WindClanners were near. Maybe the Twolegs took them further away, or there was only a short window of time to rescue everyone...

Selfishly, he allows himself to only focus on the positive.

"We'll get it off you soon," he assures both Sunstar and Slateheart — the fishy scent had not been lost on him, but its importance pales in comparison to everything else. Twolegs, RiverClanners... déjà vu coils around him; it's like he is taken back in time, into the blackened smoke and under the hardened glares of river-dwellers.

The story is a mixed bag. Dimmingsun doesn't ask why Slateheart's scent had led into Fourtrees, just like he hadn't asked why he ran towards the fire in an attempt to get to the barns. Instead Dimmingsun focuses on the facts; RiverClan's unfortunate predicament, Slateheart's courage, and the unsurprising knowledge that he would rather hear of his friend abandoning another Clan cat to save his own skin... if it meant avoiding the possibility of being taken away forever. "I'm just happy you made it." Does this mean WindClan owes Smoke- no, Lichenstar?
​

 

[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡ " Did you see him? Did you see Spotpaw? "

Had Slateheart disappeared?
Hm.
Oh, right, yes he had - but that had been ages ago. Now, he was back, with a whole new growth of fur around his neck that reminded her of the duck corpse a warrior once brought in even more ages ago. Frightkit wasn't among those who could say his absence was missed, but she still made her way over, intense moonlight eyes burning with desperation. But of course, Spotpaw wasn't here. If he was, she'd have expected him to come find her right away so, that fact that she wasn't pressing her muzzle into his speckled pelt right now said it all.

Ebony tipped ears droop, her toothy grimace leaving her fangs exposed with disgust. She agreed with the sentiments of the rest of those gathered - Slateheart smelled awful. She stares at the thing coiled around his neck, then snorts finally. "What was it like? To be captured? " her tone edges on mocking, a childish need to share in her own hurt. But her curious nature persists anyway, and she waits expectantly for his answer.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 1/11/23

• //IC opinions I'm so sorry!
  
• 
  " Speech "
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☾ Frightkit
  ☾ DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
  ☾ 2 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☾ Windclan Kit
  ☾ Sister to Deathkit, Witherkit, Grasskit, Whitekit and Midnightkit
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☾Physically very easy | mentally very easy
  ☾ Attack in bold #1b1e21
  injuries: None

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