camp STILL LIFE \ patrol return

[FERNGILL]

He didn't even know where to start. Ferngill hadn't uttered a word on the journey back- even as they broke the threshold of camp, stinking of blood and battle and adrenaline. It had all begun to ebb away now, leaving pulsing pain in its wake- Ferngill could hear nothing but his shallow breath, could see nothing but the glaze of panic in the golden eyes of the falling Windclanner. She was dead, and he'd- he'd killed her.

Trying to steel himself, Ferngill swept his eyes around the gathering crowd, trying to pick out the more comforting faces in the crowd. Sablemist, where was Sablemist... was she here? She had to know the truth. Would she love him, still? But- even if not, she had to know. And he couldn;t stay silent for much longer. Growing concern on the faces of his Clanmates forced Ferngill to speak.

"W-WindClan... stealing prey at the gorge." Ferngill couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "We... we fought them off. One of them... one of them..."

Ferngill looked at the ground, looked at his paws. "I didn't mean to. She- she was going to- to... kill Claythorn. I didn't..." he swallowed. "She ff-fell down the gorge. The- the Windclanners left."

The ground felt unsteady beneath him- the fiery tom squeezed his eyes shut, trying to purge the pain away. His throat was dry, his mind... his mind reeled, spun. "I didn't mean to," he murmured again, voice burning with regret.

\ with @salmonshade and @claythorn but no need to wait!​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[iciclefang]

The patrol returns, and the scent of blood is on their pelts, sticking to the spaces between their claws. Iciclefang pushes herself to her paws from where she'd been lying beside the nursery. Her blue eyes narrow, sharp as shards of glass. Ferngill stumbles into camp as though injured, and his breath wheezes as he explains the state of him, of his patrol. "W-WindClan... stealing prey at the gorge," he says, and Iciclefang can practically feel the tremble in his voice. "She f-fell down the gorge." The tortoiseshell queen's teeth click together, both in surprise and in anger. She can imagine it—a cat falling to their death, backwards, broken against spuming water and jagged rock-teeth. She can imagine her brother's fear, his horror, and she goes to him now, remaining steady for both of them.

"WindClan paid for breaking the warrior code," she yowls, shouldering her way to the front of the crowd. She rests her cheek against her brother's, feeling the rush of his blood under his ginger fur, feeling his heart choking him between his ribs. "And they should pay further for trespassing and stealing from RiverClan!" Her tail swishes angrily behind her, though her face and voice remain cool and frosted with spite.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 24 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
  — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

​

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

The hard copper tang of blood is achingly familiar from every night for months, from the ragged spot in his cheek, and when the thick wave of metal and fear - scent crashes through the camp entrance, his tufted ears lift in an instant. His head follows, graceful swan neck turning a second before his body does, the catch that was in his jaws falling clumsily to the fresh - kill pile with a limp smack of scales alongside its comrades. Cicadaflight makes use of his name and is across camp in an instant, just ahead of the baying crowd on strong limbs, off - toned eyes settling on the bloodied patrol.

Three warriors, mostly unfamiliar to him—he knows Ferngill as Iciclefang's brother and Claythorn because they'd shared the apprentices' den, Salmonshade in name alone. Still he feels his heart ricochet into his throat, and if he'd eaten today, it might've been at risk of coming up. Not at the stink of blood and gore and death—he is intimately familiar with how death tastes—but at the general prospect of some hidden fourth patrolmate lost. The sight of his former mentor rushing to her brother's side, though, dispels any notion of such an undignified gesture and he swallows hard and tightens his posture, heterochromatic eyes skimming the trio.

" Is anyone badly hurt? " he manages in a raspy shout over the general din, turning a heavy - lidded gaze to scan the gathering sea of pelts for the distinctive X - raked white back of his sister's friend ( really, he should be looking for Beefang, those two are attached at the hip ). Trusting Iciclefang to support Ferngill and inform the clan of what had happened, he dips into the growing crowd, muttering sorrys and excuse mes as he generally puts his height and broad frame to use, calling with an awkward twinge, " Moonbeam? "

If he has thoughts on WindClan's actions, if fury twists hot under his skin as it does Iciclefang's, he places it in some intentional stasis until the situation has been handled.

It is there, though; that he knows.

// looking for @Moonbeam !

" speech "

​

 

[salmonshade]

Salmonshade is almost eerily quiet, calm as she returns alongside a guilt-stricken Ferngill and an injured Claythorn. Emotions brew within her chest, kindling the match that burns within, ears pinned back upon her skull. Something angry churns in her stomach, something, something... She forces her breath to steady as cats inevitably gather.

Her only regret is not being the one to send the Windclanner tumbling, and not being fast enough for the other to meet a watery grave as she did.

"It was deserved. All of them should have been pushed over." her tone comes out a bit harsher than she'd like it, still not completely empty of the adrenaline that had coursed through her veins earlier, face not matching the snarl of her words. She speaks to everyone and yet no one at all, grinding her teeth together. Her shoulder doesn't hurt now, but she had hit the ground hard, she would not be surprised if she had bruised the skin around it. She opens her mouth to speak once more but shuts it with a huff and looks away. Next time Windclan steps on their land, she will be more prepared, and she will make sure one of them meets the same fate that the silver tabby one did today.

Cicadaflight tries to find Moonbeam. Iciclefang yowls her vengeance. It's all too loud here.

All at once, any energy she has wilts akin to a flower and dies in her chest. Her shoulder begins to dully throb and she grits her teeth, deciding this area is way too crowded, and she moves away, away from the eyes, away from disoriented Claythorn and panicked Ferngill, away to a silent place that she can just lay down in.

𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ଳ⋆｡˚ 𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚁

• in & outie unless stopped
• 
  ❥ salmon ,, salmonshade
  ❥ cis female ,, she/her ,, 40 months
  ❥ warrior of riverclan
  ❥ fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with white, blue eyes
  ❥ "speech, fd9367" ,, thoughts
  ❥ lesbian ,, single
  ❥ smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
  ❥ chibi by pin ,, penned by chuff

​

 

[claythorn]

Her head pounding. Briefly, she was aware of either Ferngill or Salmonshade supporting her as she stumbled forward. The world was blurred, light too bright and her ears ringing. Ears flattened against pounding skull as they broke into camp. Ferngill's words are unceremonious- fearful, of what was to come. He did not break the code. He defended their home, their prey. Sent a clear message in response to a deep-territory trespass.

But those thoughts were quickly sent away as Iciclefang yowled in defense of his actions. A cry of pain left her as she leaned forward, shoulders hunching as her nose- then entire muzzle- planted against the ground. It was the only way to center herself against the din, the shouts near her. Salmonshade departs while she is hiding her eyes, and her brain is swimming again.

Moments later did she pick her head up, trying to wobble her way towards the medicine den- eyes briefly skated for dark blue fur, for seafoam eyes- but she was definitely not making good pace now that the sound and din of camp was attacking her damaged brain.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, fourteen moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ padding after otterbite / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Mosspool]

𓆝 . ° ✦ The call of Windclan at the gorge and the tremor in Ferngill's voice as he announced it grabbed her attention immediately. Within moments, Mosspool was on her paws, ready to lend aid if it was needed, but Iciclefang's cry soon let her know the battle was already won. She breathed a sigh of relief. Later, Windclan would have to pay for the battle they started today; but for now the clan was safe. From Ferngill's tone she had thought, for a moment, that something worse than victory had happened.

It took her a moment to realize why his voice was shaking. "You did the right thing." She reassured him firmly. Even though she had not been there, her voice was as certain as if she had seen it all. "You protected the clan and you saved Claythorn." Windclan was not deserving of Ferngill's kind heart. They had trespassed and gotten what they deserved. She nodded her assent when Salmonshade said as much.

Part of her wished she had been there herself, to teach Windclan a lesson.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  MOSSPOOL — SHE/HER ･ 17 MOONS ･ WARRIOR of RIVERCLAN ･ PENNED BY @empyrean !

  Longhair black tabby with deep green eyes. Mosspaw is a very tall molly, standing a head above most cats her age. She has a slim, willowy physique with subtle musculature built up from a lifetime of constant training that lends itself well to swimming and running. Long, thick brown fur falls over her form with tabby patterning across it. Her eyes are a vibrant green, and shine with a bright intelligence and confidence.

​

 

[MIDNIGHTASH]

જ➶ This is why she was against helping Windclan when they so called needed it. Instead of asking for more help they instead decided that it was better to repay Riverclan's kindness by stealing from them. The apprentice feels the pure anger welling up inside of her and for Ferngill to even care that one of them perished for the good of him saving a clanmate regardless of how she feels about Claythorn is preposterous. Her hackles are raised, the fur along her spine raising up as she shakes her head sharply. She agrees with everything that Iciclefang says. Every last word that leaves the molly's maw is beautiful to her and she nods heartily. "They definitely deserve to lose one of their warriors for treating us this way. Especially after we sheltered them when their precious territory burned down. We all know they can't be trusted. " But it is an eye for an eye right?

To her she think that Riverclan needs to teach Windclan a lesson. Force them to be submissive and put their heads in the ground like the moles they are. "We should attack their camp and make them understand that they can't take our kindness for weakness. They need to be punished and we should pay them back in kind." Her words are as deadly as her sharp gaze as she looks to those here. "They aren't worth your sympathy, Ferngill. They've always been killers and thieves."​

 

[Moonbeam]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. The gathering crowd of cats moving around the camp as murmurs broke through the peaceful silence is what drew Moonbeam carefully from her den, the call of her name from Cicadaflight is what draws her closer. Carefully she moved through the crowd towards the source before she offered the other a small dip of the head as a thank you and moved towards the center of where cats began to crowd through. She hears of WindClan, of someone falling into the gorge and for a moment she thinks it's another clanmate that had died, relief flooding through her face as she realized that the three that had left were the three that came back.

For now, the medicine cat ignores the way the cats around her bristle with rage, ignores the angry words of revenge and battles. Though she knew WindClan had crossed a line, broken a code that had been put in place for a reason and broken promises of change, she knew too that she was not a fighter. Once the white moggie would have been but her path had changed and now there were more important things for her to do, such as attempt to help move Claythorn to her den so that there would be quieter space, a place away from the noise and distractions. Though she wanted to tell Salmonshade and Ferngill to move to her den so that they could be checked up on as well she knew, too, that they knew where to find her if there were injuries that needed to be dealt with.

She only hoped that there wouldn't be too many more if those wanting war were to get their way.

LET THE VALLEYS AWAKE ꕥ LET THEM RATTLE AND SHAKE

• --
• ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ flesh wounds
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ infections
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ aches & pains
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ illness
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ breathing
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ traveling
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ broken bones
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ kitting
  ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ poisons
• ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ 13 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently mentoring none
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics

​

 

[FERNGILL]

If it couldn't be Sablemist, he was glad Iciclefang was here- he drifted forward to meet her comforting touch, trying to expel a soft breath, to loosen the grip of his anguish on his throat. Iciclefang's rallying cry sounded like it was underwater, and Cicadaflight's presence nearly went completely unnoticed, but at the tom's soft call for Moonbean, Ferngill gave him a hurried nod. Yes, yes- Claythorn was hurt most of all, more than- more than any Windclanner, or him, or Salmonshade. She... she needed help, most of all...

Salmonshade's remark might have had him nodding at any other opportunity- a blanket statement that WindClan was evil, they were shadow-cloaked code breakers, that... that karma had met them. But when it was his paws that were blood-soaked, it felt different... it felt awful, he couldn't deny it.

Good, though... Moonbeam was here for Claythorn- emptily, he watched after them. Yeah, it- it mattered that Claythorn was safe, most of all. Above everything else. Mosspool was always a comforting, calm presence to fall back upon- a small smile wobbled across his lips as he saw her, half-hearted but appreciative nonetheless of her attempt to comfort him. Still, all he could do was nod.

Midnightpaw's voice was red and harsh, but expressing the same steely sentiment as everyone. It was necessary, sure... "They've been punished enough, I hope." He spoke, hoarsely and miserably. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​