sensitive topics TEAR DOWN THE MOON [✦] Stranded WindClanners

Truthfully, Whisperwish had not done much in the rouge scuffle. She has been keeping to her own for awhile now, trying to remain a small presence in the ever looming darkness that was her clan’s future. She could feel it in her stomach, smell it in the wind. She would never truly abandon WindClan, that much is certain, but that does not mean she would take part in its downfall. Fighting the rogues was a clear mistake, and she refused to lay a paw on one, waiting until Sootstar inevitably called them off to flee. It might make her seem cowardly, but she does not care. She doubts anyone was paying much attention to her.

Whisperwish could call ThunderClan the exact opposite of them, in a way. Long sweeping branches covering up the sky, she can see her clanmates finding this place stifling, and she cannot entirely disagree. However, she was willing to give it a chance. Not being able to see the stars was a small price to pay to ensure the clan’s safety. Although part of her, rotten from the inside, assumed that Howlingstar would not be merciful, and she wouldn’t have argued. But in her kindness, they were allowed a separate part of their land from the camp. It’s almost hard for her to remember sometimes that there are still gracious souls amongst the living.

No one in her clan so much as mutters a simple thank you to the, frankly, unworthy blessing that they have received. She knows she might be pushing it, stepping out of line, but… Whisperwish approaches ThunderClan’s leader, a soft expression on her face. “Thank you for your hospitality.” Her words are barely above a whisper, true to her name, but she hopes that Howlingstar can still tell that she is being sincere in her words. That not every WindClan cat would take this gesture lightly, even if it is only her.​
 

He loathed every single moment spent standing underneath the shadowy expanse of thunderclan's forest. He despised the very thought of being away from their rightful home now overrun by rogues. He stands fuming next to Bluepaw, tufted ears flat with anger clearly brimming in his eyes. How embarrassing, to have to crawl to the likes of thunderclan for help. Silently he listens to the exchange between Sootstar and Howlingstar, pelt still visibly prickled from the whole ordeal. His gaze then flickers to Sootspot, wondering what the tom thought of all this before finding the gaze of his sister. Surely there would be much to talk about afterwards.
»»———- windclan warrior / nine moons old / he/him ———-««
 
your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It came as a shock to see the other crumble, expression softening just the slightest. He wasn’t someone that cats relied on for comfort, unlike his family who had more than a glimpse at a side he rarely showed in public. He was an asshole, that Fogbound knew, but it never deterred him from getting under someone’s skin, grinning wickedly as they rose to the challenge. Something bloomed in his chest whenever he did, ruby optics brightening to hurdle insults and other words.

He snorted at her words, his own lips curled into a half-hearted smirk, blinking languidly. “Then I shall be waiting.” He hummed, ignoring the weak chatter around him to rest a deadpan gaze on Rabbitclaw’s battered form, noting her injuries and those of his own that burned. A reminder that he would have bit the dust if it wasn’t for others and the rouges' stupidity. He was mindful, something Fogbound wasn’t known to do, keeping his tone light, unwilling to dig deeper. Look at how nice, I’m being. Rather bittersweet, isn’t it? His gaze crinkled just the slightest, letting a rumble that vibrated—calming. If anyone mentioned it, then he would swear up and down in his grave that he didn’t have a nice bone in his body. He would grin tauntingly because really Fogbound wasn’t known for being nice, not unless he was using his charm to woo some helpless feline into doing what he wanted.

Or trying to get out of a well-earned jab to his side from his sister after doing something reckless. Truly. It wasn’t in his personality to ignore something, and that has certainly gotten him into more trouble than he can count on a singular paw. He chuffed, a grin formulating only to slip off his face at the sandpaper tongue licking at tender wounds, muscles stiffening in response. He blinked, turning his helm to watch the other lap at blood-crusted wounds, still bleeding but didn’t seem life-threatening. Not like earlier when he collapsed, unable to get his bearings from the abrupt pain that shattered whatever playful facade he was using.

Fogbound, for once, was silent, letting the other do what she needed to ground herself. He could be nice, doesn’t mean he would. His face remained passive, giving nothing away. “Anything for you, my lady.” He grinned, tone offering nothing. Who could tell if he was being serious? Fogbound shifted his gaze to what was happening before them, rotating a few thoughts.

Oh, I’ll indulge just this once. He shifted, stretching his neck to return the favor, lapping at tender wounds he was sure the other wouldn’t be able to reach if she let him, only then did he pull away with a satisfied crinkle of his brow. His heart was worried, but his mind begged to differ.

Howlingstar’s voice filtered through his ears, humming. “It seems the forest dweller has sympathized with us.” His voice barely carried out, no doubt unable to reach the Thunderclanners while observing them. His nose crinkled at Moonwhisper’s remark, lips stretched in a wicked grin. Such arrogance will certainly get you nowhere, my dear. He couldn’t help but chuff, amusement dancing within ruby hues. “Let us see what happens when rogues, too, invade your camp.” His gaze narrowed, handsomely so, tone barely a whisper amongst the crowd.

He didn’t like the thought, of asking for help, but surely even he knew when to turn for help. Of course, Fogbound never held those thoughts for himself. It was a mere question of when he’ll die.

He turned to Rabbitclaw, returning to his charismatic ways, grinning. “Can you walk, or shall I carry you, my lady?” He rumbled.

/ interacting with @RABBITCLAW
thought speech
 
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Stony silence is the only thing coming from the feathery tom. He slowly walked beside his mentor and denmate. Blood steadily dripped down his back and past his legs. Leaving little trails of crimson droplets with every drag of Redpaw's muscles. Thankfully, it had improved from its earlier downpour, but now all he could feel was a violent sting in his back where thick black claws had met soft pinky flesh. He hadn't got the chance to give that brute a taste of his own medicine, but Rumblepaw had done him the honor.

Wordlessly, he lifted his slouched head to look at the other. A warmth blossomed in the youth's chest for his friend. Something he hadn't quite experienced before, but nonetheless a feeling he prayed would never leave. Not when he needed it the most. Idly he leaned into the other brushing his pelt comfortingly into the taller tom's side as they settled at the border.

It was unusual for the tabby to be so quiet, but due to Windclan's current circumstances, he felt it was necessary. The weariness setting into his body tuned the arguing of the older cats out until Fogbound's scattered whispers from behind set him on edge. How can any of them think of revenge at a time like this? Why would you say something like that? It made him sick to tune into their bickering. Howlingstar granted them safety and yet these crow-hearts wanted to argue. While kits were still wailing for comfort and half of them were barely alive. Redpaw could feel the rage broiling under his pelt, replacing the earlier stings with dull aches.

For once there was a burn to fight an itch to settle a score, but he wasn't completely foolish. No cat had any fight left in them and arguing was a losing game so rather than continue, he padded away. Taking the high road instead of sticking around. He abandoned Rumblepaw's side and followed the Thunderclanner's. He didn't want to hear another warrior scold him for insolence so he left and without a care. His mind and body were far too numb to conjure up a more caring demeanor.
 
Who would have thought a snort from him was one of the best things that could have happened today. The best thing being she totally kicked some tail during the battle. Despite being horribly battered and wounded, she was free and didn't have to hold back. The audacity of him to make it sound like she had to plan out a future date, no that she had to ask him. He's met with a smirk, "Don't worry honey, I'll think of something you'll enjoy." It's then that she feels incredibly small and masks her unease by his eyes inspecting her. It's moments like these she is reminding how hulking he is in comparison to her. If he ever battled her seriously she wouldn't say she would lose easily, but it was easy to imagine him pinning her easily and clawing at her. In other words, he only needed to pin her down to seal her fate.

A roll of her eyes he'll get by saying referring to her as a lady and saying anything. Pft, yeah right. You? Anything? If I asked you to cut off your tongue would you do it? A small smile makes it's way to her maw at the thought. To him it might be mistaken as her being pleased with his words and perhaps swooned. Let his ego be soothed by such thoughts. He may have been a charmer to other's and stolen their hearts, but she would not allow him to steal hers. Still... Can't let him think he has the upper paw here. "Likewise. Anything for you, my lord." Seems like that is enough of their exchange. Not that she minds, in fact she is quite pleased. Them? Mushy? Gross.

It's then she's caught off guard, her frame jolting the moment she feels a sand paper tongue lapping at her wounds. Maybe in due time Fogbound would tease her for being as stiff as a tree. He doesn't know nor will he ever learn that she hadn't been looked after in such a way since... Well forever ago. She can't even remember the last time someone did this for her, even out of her kin she doesn't recall recent times where they could've licked her wounds. It feels terribly wrong. Not because this is Fogbound they're talking about, but because she doesn't deserve this. She is the least deserving of this. However, as much as her mind is in disarray from Fogbound's actions, her heart craves this. For her heart and only her heart alone, Rabbitclaw relaxes and tries to focus only on the other's around them.

Howlingstar's words are not entirely reassuring yet she is aware this is as good as it could turn out for them. The worst case scenario would be for Howlingstar to call out for Thunderclanners to chase them out. "I doubt it. We're the most hated of clans, she probably wants something from us. Info most likely," she answers with a hushed voice only for those close to her and Fogbound to hear.

Moonwhispers words sting annoyingly so, but she is no fool. She couldn't raise her claws towards the shecat lest she wants to ruin this for Windclan, and to be honest she has little energy to actually get into another battle. Forced to keep her maw silent is woeful. It's then that she mews yet again, perhaps irritatingly so to Fogbound's retort. She's simply tired and by no means is she purposely trying to get on his nerves. She's just being honest. "If we're staying here, then we might have to fight them again. Unless Sootstar wants us to run again." She's prideful, but I'm not sure she would like either option. It's between running and letting Thunderclan figure it out, or helping Thunderclan. j

Given the okay, she's finally prepared to rest. It's been a long day after all. Once again, she is surprised by Fogbound's offer, although her face scrunches in tired annoyance at his typical fake charismatic ways. You know what. "Wanting to hold me so badly, hmm? Afraid I might slip away from your claws? I did say anything you wish my lord, so carry me." To be honest I don't feel like walking. Hey, you offered it's not my fault.

/ interacting with @FOGBOUND
 

A ThunderClan warrior humbly offers prey before promising to bring them their leader. Her nose wrinkles, though the gesture had clearly meant to be an act of kindness, she takes it as an insult. The piece of prey is pushed thanklessly back onto ThunderClan’s side of the border, her clan did not need to be hunted for.

Flycatcher, however, approaches first. Sootstar’s eyes darken, she wanted to deal with the deputy even less than the ThunderClan leader. The way he had spoken out of line to her at the gathering… she can only hope Howlingstar has reminded him of his place and authority. It’s very well possible, because he informs her he cannot make any promises of ThunderClan lending a paw, that they deal with their own troubles. Of course, every clan does, but where is she to go if not here?

She glances torward Wolfsong as the medicine cat speaks to her, his counsel, though wise, is not something she wants to listen to. She finds it difficult to speak freely with him as ThunderClan’s perked ears are present, “You want us to sit on our paws and lick our wounds while rogues spoil our land?” She fears the damage in doing so would be immense, particularly on her pride and reputation.

She struggles to keep her fur laying flat when a ThunderClan warrior insults WindClan’s independence, instead she takes it out on Bluepool by casting a sideye at her. ’Apparently, we cannot.’ It was her own clan, her own cats who insisted and counseled her this was too much for them to bite. She did not realize how soft and weak they had all become, perhaps they’ve gotten too use to “peace”.

At last Howlingstar arrives, she’s actually somewhat thankful for it. She was not sure how much longer she’d be able to keep the little composure she retained. ’The rogues did this?’ she asks, as if she knows of the rogues she speaks of. Sootstar does not press into it for now and instead nods affirmatively.

Sootstar gives the spiral-striped tabby a dumbfounded look when told retaliation could be dicussed later. Were all of these cats hare-brained?! They needed to spring back now! ”The longer we wait to attack the more time they have to regenerate. We did not leave without a fight.” She argues as if WindClan made much more than a dent in their forces. Howlingstar instructs to follow and she hesitates at the border, her teeth grinding together with impatience. ”At this rate, we’ll lose the moors permanently.” She complains under her breath to her clan, before stepping forward and following Howlingstar into the woods.
  • » SootSootstar
    » WindClan Leader
    » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
    » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
    » Excels in quick, short moves.
    » Fights to kill and maim
    » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

"BABY, DON'T YOU KNOW I SUFFER?"
The walk was long and arduous. Surely, if Rivekit had gone on the journey she had heard about, she would have never complained about this. Well, internally, anyways. Ever since Wolfsong had said something to her, words biting into her flesh like Featherkit's raging at her and Pink-kit's dirty looks from time to time, she had been silent. Not once had the owl-eyed kit opened her mouth to complain, not once had she asked where they were going, even when Bearkit did. She had simply kept an eye on her siblings, making sure to nudge Sunlitkit along if she lagged.

And when they came upon the border, Sootstar's voice raising amongst the din of the forest they were heading towards, the gravity settled on Rivekit's shoulders. A tiny breath left her, ears flattening against her skull. She moved, pressing her flank against Bearkit. No, she wasn't known for getting along with her older brother very much. They often butt heads in camp, but it was now that she saught the comfort his pelt would provide. A meaningful glance was given to him, and when they started moving again, Rivekit followed.
✦ ★ ✦
 

Like his sister, Featherkit kept an eye on his siblings too- including her. She was brave and fearless, no doubt- given her name for a reason, as if their parents had pre-empted her personality with some strange instinct. Riverkit's bravery was terrifying, though. Bursting with a battle-cry, she'd tried to rake claws against a rogue who had voiced- Featherkit had heard it- that they would show kittens no mercy. All that buzzed in his sister's brain was bees and dust and valour, and Featherkit loved her, and did not want to lose her.

It was love that stained her scowl on her face, kept rage icy in her eyes, impossibly cold sunlight.

Immediate distrust, which sprang up more upon his expression as childish nervousness, settled itself on his face at the sight of the Thunderclanners. The leader, wise and aged, was nothing more than an outsider- oddly, he looked to irritating, loud Pink-kit and indignant Finchkit and their siblings, a moment like a flash of light. There for a moment, soon after gone.

He didn't want to go. But there was nowhere else to go. His mind strived for a compromise, but all Featherkit could do was trudge once they were on the move, frowning. Anger froze her expression that way- she did not appear grateful for the aid at all. Whether she was or wasn't, even she couldn't say.
✦ penned by pin
 

╭──── ⋅ ⋅ ──── 。・゚゚・ ─── ☀︎ ─── ・゚゚・。 ──── ⋅ ⋅ ────╮
Everything had happened so quickly, ending just as quickly as it started; flash of claws and blood and snarls, and yet here they all stood, beaten down but alive. Perhaps if she were older, it would mean something more, relinquishing their home for ThunderClan's aid, but to her simple mind, the pieces don't seem to fit right, or at least they don't elicit the same responses, the same feelings are many of her clanmates. Despite the cloying scent of blood that clung to the troupe as they marched across the moors, Finchkit only thinks of how beautiful things are, how wonderful it is to be out of camp for the first time - even if the illusion is broken by the way her paws never touch the ground, swinging beneath her as she takes in the sights. It's achingly familiar, in a strange way, though she can't quite put her paw on it. Never has she been out here before, and certainly not under circumstances such as these; confused, to say the least, she gives into her hunger for more, greedily drinking in every new sight until she's sure there's no room inside her to hold onto any more.

When they cross from moor to forest, Finchkit can't keep from wiggling about, feeling a deep sense of need and desire to explore this new world herself. She's stopped, of course, by Graypaw, and try as she might, the apprentice keeps a steady hold, though she has no idea if the thwarting is intentional on her part. Then, just as she's set down and tiny paws begin to wind up, a stranger appears, and then another, and another after that. For the first time, she starts to wonder just exactly what's going on here - they couldn't go back home, obviously, but she hadn't quite considered what that meant until just now, as the two leaders negotiated just what was to be done. Instead of scampering off like she so desperately wants to, Finchkit instead turns to her family, who are no doubt close at paw, suddenly feeling uncertain for the first time since they'd fled.

"What's gonna happen now?" It's posed to nobody and everybody in particular, wide eyes seeking answers in the gazes of Brightshine and Heavy Snow, in the glances of Pink-kit and Heathkit and Downykit. Sure, these strangers had just offered them a place to stay, but that's not forever - even she knows that. Precipice as this was, however, Finchkit is still determined to make the most of this experience, all the sensations still so new with no time for homesickness to spring up, and so when they start to continue forward, truly crossing borders tangible and not, she decides that she'll lead the way, at least for her siblings. Maybe once they got to...wherever they were staying for now, they'd all be able to regroup, and things would start to settle back into place a little more. Truthfully, though, she's not so sure whether she wants them to settle, not all the way; this is probably the most exciting thing that's ever happened to her, even if many of her clanmates might not share that view in the same way.​

  • OOC: --
  • Untitled358_20230906125307.png
  • EEHinuI.png

    - Finch Finchkit
    - She/her (AFAB)
    - 3 moons
    - Loner Kit of WindClan
    - Hearty & scruffy chocolate lynx point with splashes of white and bright blue eyes
    - Art by Jay & base by googaoo respectively! <33
    - Minor powerplay allowed!
    - Penned by Hijinks
 
your entire existence gives me a headache, go stand over there .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Fogbound huffed, laughter curling like smoke on dark lips. Oh, you're too easy, my love. To give him such an opening would be against his morals not to tease the other. “To see you agree so easily has me thinking otherwise.” He grinned, pulling himself onto enormous paws, bulky build towering over the tunneler. His Maine Coon features sharp beneath the forest’s canopy.

He was a gentleman, of course, he would have offered, but perhaps it was out of some other obligation that he wasn’t too keen on getting into. The smokey tom shifted, lowering himself just a hair from the ground, urging the other to drape herself across his bulky frame. He was thankful, if not for his massive size, then Fogbound would have certainly made a fool of himself to offer. “Try not to hit my wounds. It’ll be the most unpleasant if we topple over.” Unpleasant for you, of course. Was left unsaid.

/ interacting with @RABBITCLAW
thought speech
 
She hears a child's voice somewhere behind them. What's gonna happen now? Her heart aches, for now matter how much she distrusts the moor-dwelling clan, no kit should ever face such danger and terror. Her ears flatten as she pushes through the thick undergrowth until they arrive at the training clearing. Sand and dirt stretch out before them, fine and soft. "Your clan may stay here until we figure out what to do." She turns to meet the gazes of Sootstar, of Sunstride, of many of the other wiry WindClanners. She recalls hearing from someone at a Gathering that they don't sleep in dens. It's a good thing; there is nothing here that could make a good den for them.

Again, her soft eyes naturally linger near the many kittens that toddle about their parents' paws tiredly. She frowns as she imagines them out here in the open, without shelter and soft, mossy nests. "Sootstar," She mews, dragging her gaze back to meet that of the blue she-cat. "Your queens and kits are welcome in our camp for safety, but only them. I don't like the thought of children out here...."
 
Webpaw, like many in Windclan, had tried his best. Webpaw, like all in Windclan, had failed.

The apprentice had known of the increase in rogue activity but he'd never thought that they'd be bold enough to attack like this. He didn't expect their numbers to be so great. He'd been trapped in the camp, backed into corners by strangers that seemed far too large, with far too sharp teeth shining in the fading sunlight. He could still feel their breath, hot upon his face. They'd nearly gotten him, they had gotten him, they'd stalked him and chased him down, when his mentor arrived. Despite their bickering, the heated arguments and too-rough spars, his mentor hadn't hesitated to get between Webpaw and the rogues. The older tunneler had gotten him enough time to flee alongside the rest of the clan.

Webpaw didn't see her among the crowd now, frantically scanning the escapees. There was no hint of her mottled brown pelt, brief glimpses of similar fur enough to give him near immediately dashed hope. He knew it was a futile effort but he didn't, couldn't accept it. What were those moons of anger for if she was dead? Why had he refused to give in to her kindness? Their last conversation had been tense, all spat words and defensive posture. She couldn't be gone. It wasn't right. Starclan wouldn't take her away like that. The ancestors, those that watched the skies and everyone underneath them, were too great to need such a normal cat. " Does anyone know where my mentor is? " His voice was shaky, his question one that he had not ceased asking. He couldn't find her.
[ you are the light ]