private SURRENDER, SURRENDER [ private for now ]

[jackal]

A wraith, on four paws. That's what he likened himself to- an agent of his own management, green eye narrowed on Riverclan territory. This time, he was on the opposite border from where he first lay his trail of fish, hoping that it would keep patrols hovering that end of the territory. It wasn't lost on him that he had nearly been caught- but that was okay. That was part of the plan, to be caught, to be realized, to threaten and to taunt. A breath is inhaled as two glimmering eyes fixed out upon the territory.

Then- he hears it, the enemy's paws crunching on leaf-fall litter, the scuffling of a nose against reed to mark their territory. What a fool, Jackal thinks to himself. Alone, with these kinds of threats? Jackal knows well, despite paws that have begun to ache easier, that he is far scarier then a dog slobbering over it's food- he's far more terrifying then that of a twoleg's hands. A glimmer of a grin splits up his face as he climbs down from the tree he has perched in, revealing himself to the Riverclanner.

Jackal is far into the territory- farther then a rogue should have been, scent craftily hidden under the pretense of rainfall. "Good evening." He speaks, voice sounding rough- akin to full of gravel, low toned. There is no purr to his voice. Despite the grin splattered on his scarred muzzle, lips pulled back strange because of it, there is no warmth or happiness in his vision. This is purely business, and he has a goal to accomplish. "I believe you have some things of mine." He says, tail swaying behind him, large form leaning his weight to one side.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── ALL YOU HAVE TO DO ⋅❁⋅ IS GET RID OF ME! ──┐‎

• "speech"
  
  // @Snakeblink
  

• 

• JACKAL he/him, rogue, sixty eight moons.
  ⭃ LH red tabby with piercing green eyes and a maine coone descendancy. smug, very sure of himself, littered with scars.
  ⭃ ex mate to hazel and npc / / father to claythorn, redacted, redacted
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

He doesn’t recognize the rogues as such, at first.

Oh, he isn’t mistaken for long, not at all. Only a precious few seconds thinking of red fallen leaves, coalescing into the shape of a cat; words on his tongue, please do not sneak upon me like this, Claythorn… And then the rogue hits the ground and realization hits Snakeblink like claws to the face, but by then it’s too late: the hulking shape of the foreign cat is close, too close by far, and he cannot back down without exposing his back.

Snakeblink considers it anyway: the smile twisting the unknown tom's maw makes him think it would be the wiser course of action. His tail shivers behind him, the tension gathering in the rattling tip as the rest is held unnaturally still along with his body, half-crouching against the cold ground as his eyes track the rogue’s movements. His scent is faintly familiar, in no way he can place; it reminds him of rotting fish.

He does take one step back. He is no fighter; running for assistance will be his best bet. StarClan, his apprentice is not far at all – can he endanger her, lead this stranger to her?

”You are out of bounds. Leave now before blood has to be shed.” His bravado is faint: in the event of a violent altercation, the blood shed will most likely be his. But curiosity is stronger than his nervousness and he goes on in a soft hiss: ”What is it you claim to search for? There is nothing here that could belong to you, be it prey or territory or anything else.” The longer he keeps the other talking, the better his chances of making it out of this unscathed. How did the rogue slip through their patrols? StarClan, have they learned nothing?​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 57 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[jackal]

Jackal knows he has the other by surprise- that was by design, after all. Slowly encroaching on that of Riverclan's lands, and taking them by surprise. His bloodline resided here- it was only fair that he got to step foot here, wasn't it so? But the fear in Snakeblink's eyes only fuels him, and so he steps closer yet, the smile still resting on his scarred muzzle. "Mine, or yours?" Jackal hums, as if eager to see the red spilled.

He didn't mind it being his- the scars kept unwanted attention away, and that mattered most, but... Snakeblink's statement caused a curl to his muzzle once more. "Oh, but they do. Three of them, if my count is correct. Blood runs in their veins that I gifted to them." Jackal's head tilted, not undoglike, and eyes flashed as he stared at Snakeblink. "I know one of my children look like me. You must know them, yes?" He purred. Another step closer, even if Snakeblink was slowly retreating.

Jackal goes on, speaking more confidently. "I need you to tell them I'm waiting." Jackal says, then pauses to consider. "And then, this message is for Riverclan." He leaps forward, aiming to slam into Snakeblink and pin him on his back, claws sinking into the other's shoulders.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── ALL YOU HAVE TO DO ⋅❁⋅ IS GET RID OF ME! ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• JACKAL he/him, rogue, sixty eight moons.
  ⭃ LH red tabby with piercing green eyes and a maine coone descendancy. smug, very sure of himself, littered with scars.
  ⭃ ex mate to hazel and npc / / father to claythorn, redacted, redacted
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Snakeblink]

Children?

Snakeblink's stares, slitted eyes taking in the rogue, trying to find resemblance – and he finds it, to his horror. The ears, the fiery pelt, the cut of the muzzle... He was not entirely mistaken in thinking this was Claythorn sneaking on him, was he? He can see her in his enemy's face.

"Is the nature of a gift not to be given with no strings attached?" He edges, distractingly. His eyes dart from him to their surroundings, seeking an escape. He does not think this rogue will be put off long by his talking.

He takes a few steps back as the rogue's voice changes, like a storm building. "What name shall I carry b–"

The rogue is on him before he can finish his sentence. His full weight slams into Snakeblink like rushing water, crushing him into the ground and knocking the wind out of him. Claws sink into his shoulders, the old scar tissue there, drawing blood. Snakeblink hisses, twisting like a viper and kicking his back legs to hopefully dislodge the rogue. Inhaling a thin breath through the panic choking him, he opens his maws and yowls: "ROGUE! ROGUE IN RIVERCLAN!"

The rogue will not kill him, not if he wants to send a message clearer than what a corpse can send; but Snakeblink does not want to see what else he wants to inflict on a RiverClan warrior, short of instant death. ​