camp STIR THE ASHES — strategy session

Even as cats bumble around ThunderClan’s camp, the clearing is thick with silence. Bristling queens tend to frightened kits; warriors and apprentices with grief-dulled eyes weave brambles into broken barriers. There is no soil clotted in his claws; there’d been no body to bury. Sunfreckle is gone, the only signs of him smears of blood—a cat he’d served beside for many moons, a good, kind-hearted, valuable warrior of this Clan, a father to many, a mate, a protector. Life feels still; he moves as if suspended in amber. Their camp is in ruins, and so is their Clan.

Raccoonstripe pats a wall he’s reinforced, his expression grim. “Barriers or not,” Raccoonstripe rasps to the cats who cluster near him, “those wolves will return. They found us easy prey, and as soon as their bellies begin to rumble, they’ll be back for more.” He suppresses a shudder.

He turns, pauses his work. Determination flares dark in his eyes. “We can’t sit here and be hunted in our own camp. And we can’t fight them—so we have to figure out how to get them to leave our territory.” He sits, his tail curling around his mismatched paws. He levels all of ThunderClan with his gleaming gaze.


  • ooc:
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  • Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 37 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
    — mentored by n/a ; mentoring none ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
    — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
    — currently mated to Nightbird.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.


 

tears have fallen freely since their return. she doesn’t feel it anymore — her cheeks ever damp, the feel of droplets clinging to the edge of her jaw, clumping long fur in spikes of ginger. her wracking sobs have ceased and she stands, lock - knees, in the middle of camp. to her left, the ground is stained crimson, and her paws as well. the only thing left of her father, this smattering of blood and fur. voices mumble around her, whispers and soft cries of loss ; her throat hurts. her chest hurts. she cannot cry, not those full - bellied wracks of despair. her blood has long since run grey and cold when raccoonstripe breaks through her reverie, speaking his passion to a group of dismal, pain - fed warriors.

at first, she does not speak. then, she thinks of sunfreckle — she thinks of the rabbit, from that patrol not so long ago. they’d managed to sneak by it, then. , ” they’re.. food driven. “ and food driven alone. she couldn’t imagine they had any sort of consciousness, of humanity hidden behind their thick, drooling skulls. freckleflame releases a shuddering breath, maw parting on a wet smack, throat sticking with the drain of her running nose, ” i bet you we, we could — we could lead them towards the outlands, with freshkill. but.. “ a glance over, the scattered remains of crushed and half - bitten mice, vole and squirrel. a fresh wave of tears soak her face, but her expression does not change ; glassy meadow green eyes simply flick back to stare, dull, towards the brown - striped tabby. her ears lower.

the what would we eat? goes unsaid.

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  • i.

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  • FRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. EIGHTEEN MOONS OLD. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY! NAMED A WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORING NO ONE! PENNED BY ANTLERS --------------------------------------------
    78457700_xPWPrrxsVVnAJd3.gif
    she / her, eldest daughter of rabbitnose and the late sunfreckle. big, fluffy cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. larger than life! each and every part of her is broad ; wide in everything from her face to shoulders to her feathered tail, something reminiscent of her father’s kittypet heritage in the square of her chin and hulk of her figure. she appears illusionarily fluff - ridden at first, thickly pelted in shades of fire and soot, long & tangled, knotted with undergrowth — seeming soft and pudgy, and she is.. that figure curving into hard, hidden bulk along heavyset flanks and well - muscled limbs. a characteristic lack of personal space leads her to a slouching, touchy posture, often inclined to lean or bump against her peers.
    74050405_3z3TRmotTItEoMt.png
    grieving. all opinions are solely in - character and during these times, often untrue or said only in anger.

 
"Does it have to be prey?" Chickadeepaw offers up from the sidelines. There was no fire in her, none that would burn so soon after the death of her sister, but there is a sort of determination in her golden eyes. Calculation, almost.

"A lot of us are still bloodied, what if we took ourselves as bait just... higher. There are good climbers in ThunderClan. I -" she gulped, embarrassment coloring the tips of her ears. "- I- I know I'm not the only one who can get up a tree. We could maneuver through the lower canopy and we could still take prey to tide them over... but... maybe.... I don't know." She shrinks back, suddenly very aware of herself and how silly she sounded.

"I'm sure Freckleflame's idea is better..."
 
Thistlepaw moves as if numb. Time suspended like dew on a blade of grass. It'll be gone so soon. This moment, this feeling, this– life. His body is still sick in a way that he could not comprehend until this moment. Where the others had done all that they could to take care of their clanmates, what could he do? What could he do except– except watch, and witness, and die? He follows Raccoonstripe because he does not know what else to do. A silver-tipped shadow ghosting behind a cat who managed to remain strong despite everything that happened. He must know what they'll do. Him, and Howlingstar, and the entire council which he has adored for the entirety of his life. Sunfreckle was gone but it had to be worth it, right?

It had to. . . mean something.

The swell of grief twists into rage, and Thistlepaw snaps, "Shut up!" before he can even think about it. He would feel ridiculous if he had time to do it. His claws unsheathe and ache. He doesn't ponder for a second that it might seem that he is yelling it at Raccoonstripe, or Freckleflame. No, it's Chickadeepaw. An older apprentice, someone he had wanted so badly to be equal to once, but now he was. Now they were the same and he was helpless and she thought that she knew? His chest heaves. He's helpless. They're all helpless. Apprentices won't save ThunderClan. "We're not– you just need to shut up and listen. To the warriors." Because they would know what to do now.

Right?
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  • OOC. i am. so sorry chickadee ;;
  • 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐖. HE - HIM. YOUNG APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN. ————— the son of an ex-kittypet has spent most of his life confined to the medicine den. bad circumstances and worse healing left him in a limbo between life and death which he only just escaped. there's still recovering to do before his clanmates see him as anything more than a weak, sick kittypet.   PENNED BY REVELATIONS

    a prickly-furred chocolate and slate cat with amber eyes. though with a blocky, nearly bulky frame, thistlepaw has been softened, rounded, and stretched thin by his uncertain life. without work or play to thicken the pads of his paws or add strength to his limbs, his skin plays like canvas stretched taut over its frame, his fur a hazy cloak to cover the sickness. he seems soft and unwell in equal measure. certainly not an apprentice to be. . .
 

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-
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Roeflame knew where she should be.
Yet, the rosetted queen cannot bring herself to approach the nursery, not even to help with the bundle of distraught kits on their paws. Once Freckleflame had come up from the scene of her fathers death, Roeflame had busied herself with stopping by the medicine den instead, dragging her visit out for as long as she could.
When the silvery warrior steps back out, the threatening obstruction to her lungs whisked away by stems of lavender, all she can feel is guilt.
Shame for the pregnancy that limited her capabilities, for the fact Roeflame does not feel ready to handle her new responsibilities as a queen.
No, she cannot approach the nursery- not when the only thing it conjures is the memory of Sunfreckles death playing behind weary sage optics.
Raccoonstripe has a small group gathered, the older toms voice carrying talk of strategy, and Roeflame cannot help but linger.
Freckleflame’s idea quirks a brow bone, churning the idea over in her mind.
Thistlepaws outburst, however, earn the apprentice a sharp look.
“Thistlepaw, mind your tone, or you can lend a paw elsewhere. It’s not your place to speak to a clanmate that way.”
Her voice is hoarse, tone weary- but Thunderclan could not handle being at one another throats, despite the exhaustion that clawed at all of their eyelids.
The idea of using her clanmates as bait for these monsters tied knots in Roeflame’s stomach, or perhaps that was simply a restless kick from one of her seemingly grumpy kits.
Are you all as tired as me? Roeflame wonders for a fleeting moment, until her eyes flicker towards Raccoonstripe once again.
“With fresh-kill you would need time to hunt, lay out a trail. Otherwise…” trailing off, Roeflame looks away from her stand-in deputy, glancing towards Chickadeepaw, the apprentices own idea replaying behind distant optics.
”Otherwise it’d be our warriors out there anyways, with the prey- wouldn’t it?”
The thought of Burnstorm out there, of Freckleflame or Toadhop, Stormywing, Flycatcher… the thought of any one of her clanmates being served as bait for the wolves is nightmarish- though Roeflame knows if it weren’t for her pregnancy, she wouldn’t hesitate to save her clan, even if it involved something as impossible as baiting a pack of wolves to the outlands.
Outlands… what would stop them from coming back?




  • ROEFLAME she/her, Lead Warrior of Thunderclan, twenty-one moons.
    petite cinnamon silver ticked tabby with murky green eyes & a small scar over her left eye.
    mate to Burnstorm ☀ mentor to Foxpaw, Lightpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ☀ underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Noor@toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
blood stains their camp, as sunfreckle becomes a scab on people’s minds. she hadn’t known the tom, but like any death in the wild, it hurts her stomach, it’s the kind that saved so much more. it was heroic- a true thunderclanner.

after making sure stormfeather was accounted for, the molly keeps her paws busy elsewhere. moving brambles around, assessing the damage, thinking. the temporary deputy calls for something to be done- but they’re sitting ducks, when night falls, the wolves will return and pick them off one by one. her clanmates start brewing ideas, while others try to pick fights and she glosses over it, eyes distant, muscles burning from carrying the warrior up a ravine. stars, she’s exhausted.

"freckleflame’s idea is a good start," she begins, eyes darting across the forming group. "the wolves are here for the deer, right? maybe we can… use them… but it’s risky." the carcass from a few sunrises ago told her just that, who knows how many lay dormant across the territory now. leafhusk’s tail lashes behind her, tail tip curling she becomes uncertain with her own suggestion.​
 
Softpaw isn't sure what she can contribute to the forming group as Raccoonstripe makes a call to arms for a solution to the wolves - over the din she heard Thistlepaw snapping at Chickadeepaw, but she stayed out of whatever argument might come out of that. What was important now was that she paid attention to the older warriors and only spoke if she had something good to say.

Leafhusk mentioned the deer, and Softpaw frowned thoughtfully. They couldn't take on the wolves, and neither could they take on the deer - it felt as if they were being squeezed from both sides, and it made Softpaw all the more uncomfortable. They were caught in-between something that had nothing to do with them, and they were the ones being forced to find a solution. The thought that they might hide crossed her mind, but it was brief and not dwelt upon; they were warriors, not cowards, even in the face of such danger. She wondered how the twolegs felt about wolves - would they take action, and if they did, how soon would it be? Not soon enough.

She came up empty with ideas. As harsh as he had been when he had said it, maybe Thistlepaw had a point - what could apprentices come up with that senior warriors wouldn't? It was the same thought that had plagued her since Howlingstar had asked for suggestions on how to be proactive about the wolves before they had attacked, and although she had made a suggestion then, she kept her silence now. Perhaps listening was the best course of action for now, for apprentices.
 
Tybalt sat with his tail curled neatly around his paws. He was just as fresh out of ideas as the rest of them, but his ears twitched when Leafhusk mentioned the deer. "They spook easily," he pointed out. Maybe we could come up with something to scare them off. Or at least scare them further out into the territory."

The wavy furred tom shrugged. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could come up with. The question, of course, was how they could manage to scare off an entire herd of deer. Or even just a few of them, for that matter.
 
Tumultuous. It felt as if Thunderclan had been flung onto waves without means of ways to stay afloat, and all they could do was mend the walls of camp, the structures of their den, hunt what little prey they could risk exiting camp. Clean Sunfreckle's blood from the ravine, clean up the nightmare that had occured. Racooonstripe was trying to lead the conversation, to find a solution- and it became tense quickly, Thistlepaw's tone sharp, stinging.

Batwing slowly padded over, his ears twitching. Jackdawflight. His words come slow, like pinpricks of the unfortunate speaking. "They don't have interest in our prey." He murmured quietly. "A deer carcass would take too many bodies to move." Batwing's tone was dull, but his eyes were narrowed upon the ground. Anger seared through his veins, coursed sharply. His head lifted, ignoring Thistlepaw's stare if it came as he spoke to Chickadeepaw. "Using the treetops aren't such a bad idea."

His head turned. "If that's the path we choose, the only issue is what happens at the end? The deer won't be gone yet." The weight of his paws shifted. Batwing was never the brightest, but he was almost always willing to throw himself in the line of fire. Gentlestorm's voice echoed in his ears, asking him to stay safe. "There's danger in attempting to spook the deer out of the territory. Cats have gotten killed beneath their hooves." He stated, slowly sitting down. Vision shifted towards Roeflame, then- a deep look of concern on his features. Shouldn't she be resting? He pushed the thought aside, looking back towards Raccoonstripe.​
"speech"​
 
Howlingstar lingers nearby, dead brambles abandoned and forgotten at her paws. It's no use, she knows, to try and work them back into the wall they'd fallen from. They're dead; new brambles will be needed to replace them. So she gets up, begins to make her way to the camp entrance to try to gather more, before she stops to listen to her son and the group of warriors he has gathered to discuss a strategy.

She stops at his side, heavy eyes following him along with the others as ideas are tossed around. An apprentice enters the conversation, another snaps at her. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before turning a sharpened gaze on both of them. "Your paws are needed on the dens." It is a clear order. This is a serious conversation about their survival, not one meant for apprentices anyhow, especially those as young as Thistlepaw and Softpaw, though the latter has done nothing to warrant the leader's stare.

Turning her attention to the others, she seems to droop with an unseen weight. "They'll just come back," She mews miserably, echoing the thoughts and words of her clanmates.
 
☁︎
Stormywing picks up her head, yellow eyes locking onto the spot where Freckleflame and Roeflame stand among others. Something serious is happening, and she doesn't want to miss out. Remarkably, the oh-so-brave Stormywing's legs still feel like jelly from the night before, and she has to brace herself as she stands to make sure she doesn't topple right back over. She takes a moment to breathe before padding over to them, pressing against Roeflame briefly - for herself or for the queen, she's not sure.

There is a fire lit within her eyes, though. Despite the grief she's been wallowing in, the old Stormywing is still there, and for a moment, ice-blue eyes across the river can be forgotten. Just this once. There is something more important now; her clanmates are dropping all around her, slaughtered by hulking beasts. "We need to kill them!" She growls, unsheathing her claws. If they'll just come back as her clanmates say, what other choice do they have? "We're strong, we can do it, maybe." The over-confident she-cat narrows her eyes and sinks talons into the ground. Little does she know, it is in fact not that easy.

// I couldn't decide who to put in here so I chose both lol
I WANNA TASTE LOVE AND PAIN ☁︎
 
Anger sparks in her dead heart at being dismissed and shooed away so quickly. Was Acornwish not the first life to be lost to these things? Why was she allowed to be involved in planning their revenge or their downfall or whatever it was. She was almost as old as Freckleflame, too! Even her brother had his name, what was the difference between the two of them beyond what cats called them?

It was that old kit-like feeling, the one that made her feel as if she had to climb the tallest tree in ThunderClan just to be seen by anyone, to stand out amongst her many siblings, to be paid attention to amongst a sea of other apprentices. Well, now she only had one sibling and no mother's love to fight over, and of the two, she was relegated to busy work while the "adults" were just as lost as the rest of them.

"Fine. Whatever. We're all gonna get eaten anyway." She snaps back at Thistlepaw before whirling around and stalking off in other direction, trying her best to hide her face lest her angry tears bring her anymore ridicule to top off the awful day.

//pouty tantrum out
 
leafhusk’s head swivels to batwing’s approach, allowing him to finish his thought. her tail tip twitches as many scenario plays out in her mind, they all end horrifically with at least a handful of good warriors gone, so she trashes the deer suggestion. focus on the wolves, the molly reminds herself, we’re burning daylight tossing ideas around like this. if they can’t use their own prey, or the deer, then that only leaves…

"higher ground isn’t worth it. they don't care about birds and we won't have high ground forever." she points out, giving the tom a quick glace. at best they get the predator’s attention and they snap at their air, playing with their food instead of chasing it. "we have to be the bait, on ground, there’s no other way." her throat feels heavy as she comes to the conclusion, looking up and scanning the growing crowd.

"there’s only one place we can lead them, right? the gorge. skyclan's too close to twolegs, and shadowclan is over the thunderpath." leafhusk’s voice wavers, nervous with what that’ll entail. once the wolves leave their scent borders, though, it’s out of their paws. thunderclan comes first.

"we chase them towards the gorge, using our best runners, and we don't deal with them anymore." she finishes, shutting her eyes tight for a moment to process it all.​
 
Howlingstar was quick to curve the apprentices back to task that Batwing had set them upon an hour or two earlier. A soft breath left his mouth as at least one of them slipped away, but not without a snap. It weighed heavy on his chest, thoughts swirling as Stormywing spoke of killing them. "Realistically, not on our own." Batwing murmured. Leafhusk dwindles in silence for but a moment, but as she speak, her eyes shifted towards the warrior.

Ears lowered softly as he realized her thought-process. He realized what it meant. Jackdawflight. He had lead the two wolves away from them. It had ended in his death, yeah, but.. it had worked. They had followed the heroic act away from Batwing and the apprentices, had saved their lives. "It... would work." Batwing agreed, though his tone was hollow. He didn't like having to do that, but it... it would have to do. There wasn't another solution, was there?

Green eyes shifted towards Howlingstar and Raccoonstripe, his gaze unwavering. "... If that's what we do, I can lead the charge. I'm fast." He volunteered instantly. He didn't even think. Leopardtongue flashed in his mind, his sons, his daughters. The unborn lives that Leopardtongue carried, that she hadn't announced to camp yet. Gentlestorm's words rang in his mind next- don't do anything stupid. Was this stupid? Or was it necessary, what had to be done to defend the lives he wanted to, the rest of the lives in camp?

He watched silently, waiting for their reaction. ​
"speech"​
 
Tybalt twitched his ears. “I can go too,” he said. He could use a good chase, and the danger didn’t frighten him. “I’m fast. But it’d probably have to be a lot of us. If we try and chase them straight to the gorge they’ll just scatter.”

The tom was quiet for several moments as he pored over the idea in his mind. “If we had more warriors we could go out in groups. One group to start the chase toward the gorge, and maybe a couple more to herd them back in line when they try to scatter.”

It might be more dangerous for the smaller groups. A frightened deer might sooner trample a group of cats to flee a situation than run back where they wanted it to. But it was the best idea he had. He looked back to the others, waiting for a reaction.
 
Howlingstar sighs as Chickadeepaw storms off, her head giving an exhausted shake before she looks towards Stormywing. Killing them. If only that were possible, and Batwing voices her thoughts - it just isn’t realistic for them to do. She looks next to Leafhusk, noticing the warrior’s faraway look in her eyes. Her ears twitch…the gorge. She’s only seen it once or twice, back before the days of clans, but she knows enough about it to know it means certain death for any cat who falls into it. It could mean the same for wolves.

Slowly, she nods along with Batwing. “It’s the best chance we’ve got…” She murmurs, but she gives a shudder as she imagines the danger. Leafhusk and Stagstrike mention chasing it, and she shakes her head. “Not chasing,” She mews lowly. “Baiting.” Cats don’t chase wolves. Wolves would never run from them, but they would run after them.

Heaving a heavy breath, she nods. “Stagstrike is right. We’ll need a lot of cats if this is to work. A big distraction, a hunt they can’t refuse. Our fastest warriors. Lead them to the edge of the gorge and dart to the side at the last moment; they’re too dumb to realize, they should run right off the edge.” She’s not sure they should split in to groups, though. It would be safer if they all stayed in one group. “We would need to cut through WindClan’s territory to do this,” The tabby adds on, apprehension twisting her gut.
 

⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ Flamewhisker knows she should stay in the nursery, but much like Roeflame, she cannot fathom doing nothing right now. Her paws were itching, begging to help, but the lives growing in her belly begged her to not. Sitting in the nursery, waiting for death to come...she had never felt so helpless. She had noticed her clanmates beginning to huddle up, undoubtedly discussing what to do about the wolves. The red tabby carefully slipped away from Sparrowkit's sleeping figure, and quietly crept away from the den. She had just got him feeling secure enough to venture out of the nursery...now...stars, she didn't even feel safe enough being in the nursery.

Her gaze was weary as she approached the group that was already deep in discussion. "Sorry I'm a little late..." she murmurs quietly as she sat down near Howlingstar. The deputy glances at Roeflame. The other Molly was father along than she was...she should definitely be resting, but Flamewhisker knew to hold her tongue. She was here for the same reason...a distraction. Sitting there in the den, all she could see was her best friend giving his life to save them.

Leafhusk suggests baiting the predators to the gorge. Her eyes widen slightly as she imagines her clanmates trying to outrun those beasts. It would be a death sentence. If that's what we do, I can lead the charge. I'm fast. Her stomach churns uneasily, and this time she couldn't blame it on the kits. "It's...It's risky." the tabby says slowly, glancing to their leader. The wolves had already claimed Jackdawflight, Sunfreckle, and Acornwish. What if they caught on that it was a trap? Were they just sending more of their clanmates to their deaths? If they asked another clan for shelter, then the wolves would just follow their scent trails to another clan. They needed to take care of them for good...but there was no room for error in this plan.

Her gaze moves to Stagstrike as he begins. A big patrol, groups. She remains silent as she pictures a group chasing the wolves as the wolves hunted more clanmates. If they catch on that there is food behind them too, then what would stop them from turning around and attacking the easier patrol? She shifts the weight on her paws, wishing there was more she could do to help. If she weren't carrying kits, she would be volunteering to help lead them away.

Howlingstar speaks next, and once their leader was finished she would speak up. "It may be wise to have a couple cats follow behind the wolves from afar. Close enough to keep up, but far enough back that they wouldn't be heard. That way if...Starclan forbid the plan doesn't work and the wolves come back here, the camp can be alerted."



  • FLAMEWHISKER she/her, deputy of thunderclan, 30 moons, ages on the 20th
    LH red tabby with low white (masks black tabby, carries dilute, solid)
    currently mated to Flycatcher / / mother to: Falconheart and Stormfeather
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    will start a fight, will finish fights, will kill (case depending)
    link to toyhouse
    penned by Icey !@icefang65 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

Burnstorm listens quietly from his place next to his mate, silent contemplation drawing his features into a thin, unreadable mask. Roeflame should indeed be resting, but he knew better than to insist upon it. Her strength and fortitude was something he had always admired about her, and if he were in her paws he could not deny he would do the same. How would one be expected to just rest and trust that others would take care of the problem for you when it is your kits futures that they hold in their paws? He does not have much to add to the conversation, his strengths always lay in brute force, in fighting his way out of problems not really thinking his way out of them. He would do whatever was asked of him though. Whatever would ensure his family and friends would be safe.

A heavy sigh escapes his lips "It's a good idea" he admits begrudgingly. He hated putting others lives at risk, especially when he would not be able to put himself right next to them. He was not the fastest runner, after all. His bulky frame made him about as aerodynamic as a boulder. His sunshine gaze flits to Flamewhisker as she speaks and he nods "That second patrol can mask their scent with something else, or else be very careful to stay downwind of them" he agrees. If things went sideways, they may need to evacuate while they come up with another plan. What happened before could not happen again. "I can handle that. If you wish." he says, turning his gaze to his grandmother. He had volunteered to scout before and he remembers her reluctance then but now it is even more important than it had been before.
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  • 73593410_oSE7LuZcU8tOnrY.png
    BURNSTORM THUNDERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; HE / HIM ; BROTHER TO MORNINGPAW, MOONWHISPER, HOWLFIRE, FIREFLYPAW, SKYCLAW & DUSKBIRD ; MATE TO ROEFLAME
    A large, sharp tongued, tom with long black fur and golden, oval shaped, eyes.
    Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + fights honorably
 
Howlingstar turns to look at her deputy as she approaches, belly growing rounder with each passing day. She offers a sympathetic blink to Flamewhisker - stars, all of this stress can't be good for the kits, Roeflame's and Moonwhisper's, too. Her ears twitch as her idea, though. Cats to follow farther behind...yes, to ensure the plan would work. If it fails...she shudders at the thought, squeezing her eyes shut. It can't fail. This is their last shot. She looks to Burnstorm next as he suggests the second group mask their scent, and she nods slowly in agreement. The wolves need to chase the first group, not grow distracted by the cats behind them. And then he offers to do it himself, and her brow furrows.

"I will go, too," She decides, voice soft as she gazes at her grandson. She has lives to spare; she needs to be there most out of anyone. She is not fast, but she can track and watch from the undergrowth with others.
 
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