camp THE HEAVENS AND THE EMBERS ♡ wolf baiting return

[badgerstripe]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Badgerstripe had followed the patrol to bring the rear to the wolves. She had not seen Batwing's death, but she heard the nearby snap when Howlingstar and Duskbird fell to the wolves. StarClan, how much more loss must we endure?

If she had been in camp the night the wolves invaded.. would it still have led to this? With their numbers, could they have put an end to the war then and there? Though reason says that her and her friends' presence would make little difference to the lumbering beasts, her guilt-ridden heart feels that her let-down has lead to this, to more death and destruction.

It's over now. Batwing saw to it, and Badgerstripe could only hope that their death was not in vain. But she finds that she cannot rejoice in this moment, not yet knowing all ThunderClan has lost in such a short span of time. Would she ever rejoice again?

The tortoiseshell trails closely behind Palebird, still unable to look her friend in the face after the night of their vigil. Similarly, she keeps her distance as those that remained greet the patrol and Howlingstar is seen to by Gentlestorm. Never in her life could she fathom so much grief within ThunderClan's sheltered walls. Mates, fathers, siblings, mentors, friends - all has been lost to someone or another. She regards Burnstorm with a pained glare, her former mentor whom had lost her sibling this day - but she cannot gather the confidence to comfort him.

Her Clanmates begin to bicker, and Badgerstripe's hard-set frown grows grim. She cannot blame them, lashing out in anger with their grief, but she wished they didn't have to grant their Clanmates passage to StarClan with insults and aggression. As Rainsweptblossom storms away, Badgerstripe averts her gaze and takes her leave, as well. She would retire to her nest, unharmed once more, and sleep away her grief.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── EVERYONES WAITING FOR DEATH ⋅❁⋅ JUSTICE DELIVERS ITS GIFT ──┐‎

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  Badgerstripe ✩ she/her, warrior of thunderclan, 12 moons.
  ⭃ a long-furred blue tortoiseshell with a notable black dorsal stripe and green eyes.
  ⭃ formerly mentored by burnstorm
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Rainsweptblossom immediately barked at him, and he made no move to fight with her. He hadn't meant to start an argument, but Rainsweptblossom turned and bounded away, immediately sparking hisses from their clanmates. Tybalt blinked, his surprised gaze trailing the she-cat for a moment before falling back to the gathered cats and Leopardtongue. The tawny warrior took a small step back. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

Apologies from him were a rarity. He wouldn't apologize to Rainsweptblossom, for he did not feel it was deserved, but he would apologize to Leopardtongue, and to the rest of the mourning cats. The last thing they needed was to listen to an argument about how she should mourn. He opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came. There was little else he could offer.

 

[DUSTPAW]

જ➶ Clearly she is not the first one on the scene and if she is completely honest with herself she didn't want to be. All the waiting, pacing, trying to distract with kit games didn't even help keep her nerves down and now she can finally realize it. Her eyes search the returning cats. Looking and holding her breath as they stammer in. Howlingstar is hurt and the young molly finds herself biting down on her lip. In come more and she has to avert her eyes. They bring up Batwing and she realizes soon enough that the other is not there with them. He had led the charge and now...now he is just gone. Sacrificing himself for the good of Thunderclan to destroy the vile evil in the forest. Shaking ever so slightly she turns her head up towards the sky. Don't take anymore of them. It is a silent plea but one thought with such pain and fervor. They need some time to heal, to grow. Her eyes cut towards Leopardtongue then and the way an argument sparks up.

Honestly she has to agree with Freckleflame and Nightbird. It's unnecessary to fight right now and so pale clay figure drifts over toward Gentlestorm, glancing up before tentatively askin. "Is there anything I can do to help?"​

 

[TOADHOP]

Another, another, and… another.

Toadhop doesn’t know if he should be surprised that wolf-struck death has come for ThunderClan again, that a patrol meant to rid the forest of such beasts ended in fatality. He doesn’t know if he should be surprised that it wasn’t more, that it wasn’t most.

He doesn’t know, however, the sight before him still leaves his heart sinking, crumbling like a night’s peace under too-close howls. Howlingstar is battered — lost a life, he hears a clanmate say someone amid the reunion — and Gentlestorm is asked for, and Batwing is… Batwing is nowhere to be found. Rabbitnose’s voice is what he hears next, an answer to the lead warrior’s disappearance, a sacrifice made. How could this be fair? How many more did ThunderClan have to —

Lose.

He sees the dark fur of his sister’s mate, sees the rusted form he carries. “ No — “ he croaks, limbs nearly swaying at the sheer disbelief. Duskbird is dead. Kin of kin is gone, a warrior hardly younger than him — but still too young for a fate like this. After all that family has been through, how could it be fair to let another fall?

Cerulean gaze looks to Roeflame, a brush against her form as she moves forward. Toadhop hesitates in following, for this family is far more Roeflame’s than his. It’s right for her to join the huddle — to join Burnflame and Skyclaw — but as he draws close, he leaves distance still in his condolences.

“ I — I’m sorry, “ he quietly says, but it’s buried under Leopardtongue’s wails, under sudden arguing — Rainsweptblossom’s raised voice toward Stagstrike, Freckleflame’s snapping in an attempt to cease it as Rainsweptblossom runs in cowardice. Cats are dead, clanmates are gone to the stars, and this is when the molly chooses to start arguments. The brown tabby watches as she bolts off with a frown, a flick of his tail in dismissal.

This is all too much. The crying, the pain, the shouting. The warrior is drowning within the bedlam. ThunderClan didn’t deserve this. Sunfreckle, Acornwish, Jackdawflight, Batwing, Howlingstar, Duskbird. None of them deserved such horrific losses of life. ​

✦ ABOUT

• 

  TOADKIT ‣ TOADPAW ‣ TOADHOP
  ── Warrior of ThunderClan
  
  ── Cinderfrost x Grime
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A brown tabby and white tom with blue eyes.
  ── Mentored by Stonepool
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

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[leafhusk]

sunlight halos the ravine, giving off a perfect spotlight for the most uncomfortable exchange leafhusk has ever witnessed. her eyes awkwardly dart between the quartet of warriors, all in varying degrees of wrong and right. put teeth near her throat and she’ll say nightbird's sharp tone held the most weight- leave the grieving, pregnant widow in peace with her children. maybe, just maybe rainsweptblossom said the wrong thing, though it didn’t matter now, freckleflame snaps out her final words and leafhusk feels her shoulders finally relax.

copperfang was a welcomed comfort, she exhales a sigh and leans her head against his shoulder, with enough room for him so it’s not constricting. another exhale, one that's pulled deep from within her chest, causes her shoulders to rise and fall shakily. since the beginning of the wolves, he’s been there for the vital parts; the first herb patrol and now the finale by the gorge. horrific situations bring clanmates together, unite them, the silent gesture from her fellow warrior is a reminder that they’re all the same. everyone lost something, it didn’t have to be a loved one or a limb or yourself.

silent gestures can mean more than words. leafhusk is glad they exist because she knows she won’t understand how the grieving feel. no words that come out of her mouth would be comforting, and lying just gets you teeth in response. sadly, rainsweptblossom is an example of that. her mother is a blur she can’t recall anymore, the same for her siblings. housecats are blessed with litters larger than your average wild cats. it is also rare to live with them your entire life. any of them could be deceased, she’d have no idea. usually, leafhusk would be perfectly fine with that, though after seeing her clanmates mourn so loudly- she feels…. jealous.

her gaze scans the crowd, making sure it’s quick so she doesn’t stare for too long. then, she stares down at her sore, aching paws. if she squints, hints of blood linger within the cracks of the earth.

//ic opinions​

 

[ADDERSNAP]

Adderpaw hadn't exactly moved from his position where he, Softpaw and Dustpaw last conversed for what already felt like moons ago. Playing mossball with them had been... relieving to him, of sorts. He hadn't played with a mossball since he was a young kit with his siblings, and the tom felt a tug at his heart as he thought about how much he had already seen so early into his apprenticeship. He was sure many others had seen so much worse, but the heartache of having to run past the overwhelming, nauseating stench of metallic blood choking the air was too much for him to handle. His yellow hues closed on their own as he hitched a breath, squeezing tight for a moment before letting his body relax with a long exhale. The songs of the crickets brought him little comfort for the first time that he could remember.

However, it seemed to have distracted him enough to have missed Palefire accompanying Howlingstar into camp, each limp screaming utter pain to him as he gazed on with horror just to see Duskbird's limp body lay draped over Leafhusk and other clanmates' bodies. The dullness of her expression reflected on his own as she help lay the warrior down, raising to his paws to slink over to his mentor as Copperfang helped to comfort her. The sparks of arguments caused his pinned ears to perk in surprise, amazed at how there could somehow be bickering at a time like this. Even Adderpaw, who usually had a negative thing to say about everything couldn't find it in his heart to worry about such little things as this. They had lost clanmates, ones close to family that were currently grieving and trying to accept what had transpired. Turning his head away, he murmured to his mentor with a broken tone. "I-I'm so sorry..." he truly didn't know what else to say to help the hurting molly, and he bit his tongue in shame. He couldn't even imagine what she -- what the whole group had just gone through, and selfishly he was thankful.​

 

[Lightflower]

They're back. A bland acknowledgment at best. The pricks of broken twigs and voices mostly faded into the background. The molly had busied herself, however slowly, with gathering any debris by herself. She wasn't exactly fit to go with the baiters, she was mostly proficient in stealth. She wasn't really even on earth enough to have the alertness to be in the backup. So she had stayed behind despite her rolling guilt in the pit of her stomach. One well placed comment by Badgerstripe and she'd broken. How could she even be considered a warrior when her resolve was so... weak?

Lightflower hadn't even noticed who was dead yet. She hadn't processed a single word since chatter had risen in camp. She hadn't even spoken since her mumbled apology upon their return to camp. She knew there were dead cats. It was nearly inevitable. But she just couldn't find a way to bring herself down from her dissociative state. So she continued slowly collecting each twig and broken piece of den she found. At least that was productive. She could be productive. ​

[ MAYBE THIS TIME I'LL WIN ]​

 

[FALLOWBITE]

ˏˋ*⁀➷ Some return and some do not. It sounds simple. There are none that Fallow herself would grieve among those who did not return, nor among the injured. That feels like a selfish thought, yet it was a true one. The distance between the apprentice and her Clan still remains. It still doesn't know the names of half of those who went to lure the wolves away, nor does it know the faces well enough to know who is lost.

Still, something twists within the apprentice's gut. It feels, more than anything, powerless. That is quickly becoming one of its least favorite feelings. The memories of the wolves tearing through the camp, snarling and wild, rests just beyond her stone face.

Her eyes catch on Bravepaw, sobbing into his mother's pelt. Doe, going to ask after him. It makes her stomach twist even further for reasons she can't quite articulate. Fallowpaw knows, in the marrow of her bones, that she does not belong here among grieving clanmates. She cannot do anything about hurt, about sadness, but she knows very well how to run. Her place is out there leading the wild things away, and yet she is denied even that. She's too young to help where she would have been able to, and that is what hurts most of all.

She does not linger long when the baiting party returns. She heads instead, back to the apprentice den and tries to tune out the sounds of mourning.

‎‎┌── HERE IN THE FOREST, DARK AND DEEP ⁀➷ I OFFER YOU ETERNAL SLEEP ──┐

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  "SPEECH"
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  FALLOWPAW ⁀➷ she / it, apprentice of thunderclan, seven moons.
  ➳ a scarred, pointed brown and white molly with shaggy fur and golden eyes.
  ➳ standoffish and solitary, always seems to have a dark cloud hanging over its head.
  ➳ baying hound xx npc, littermate to antlerpaw, doepaw, fawnpaw, & elkpaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[tigerwing]

It was first batwing and flamewhisker that tigerpaw had come across. the thunder cats. epic stories, where she imagined them bending the will of lightning and sounding like thunder themselves. the image engrained into her was wrong, but they were strong. they were fearless.

but they were only cats too.

batwing was more than noble, humble. he held his head high, he pushed through everything. he was one of the strongest cats that tigerpaw knew. he guided her steps despite his own anxiety gnawing at him, he relentlessly trained her, he took his time. he did what he needed to do.

she loved him like he was her family, even if they share no blood.

it was the wail that caught her attention, rather than the gathering cats. she had been standing post, pacing, preparing for the returning cats. And when they returned, she thought he would be there. she had hope everything was fine.

But it was bravepaws voice, then leopardtongues wail. things were not fine. Things did not go well. Howlingstar was injured bad, and two cats were dead.

And her mentor, her family that she claimed- they were gone.

A hard swallow.

Green eyes were wide, watching the camp entrance. She had never fully healed after batwing told her the truth. Her mother had died. She would not be coming back. But she did not expect batwing to fall to the same fate.

Batwing had died. He would never be coming back.

It was worse. Claws reached into her chest, her breaths quickened. Please. They twisted harder. Her breaths quickened more, there was no air coming in and out of her lungs however.

Panic.

Fear.

Please.

It was a dream. This was a horrid, wicked dream.

The apprentice heaved, choked on the tears that had silently fell down her cheeks, before collapsing on the ground. Paws moved from her chest to her ears.

Cry Tigerpaw.

And she cried. Everything she had been holding back, for weeks. Moons.

The girl cried a mournful quiet cry for the lives lost in the moons she had been there. A cry for that she was not there, that she had not done better. But it was not her fault. It was not Howlingstar fault.

There was no escape from death. She was learning that now. Everyone will die.

And that was the sad reality.
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[HOWLINGSTAR]

The walk back to camp feels like moons. Her paws trudge heavily across the forest floor, the blood across her shoulders drying as it drips down her forelegs. Her shoulder is pressed into Palefire's side, her support being the only reason the tabby is even walking right now. She can see the guilt shining in the other's eyes. She is continuing to punish herself since the night Sunfreckle died. Howlingstar guesses she won't stop anytime soon.

When they finally arrive at camp, the rush of cheery voices bombard her. Their relief and joy makes her want to crumple to the ground and cry all over again. ThunderClan has won, but at what cost? Her grandchild is dead. Her lead warrior is dead. Sunfreckle, Acornwish, Jackdawflight...how many lives will monsters take from them? She lifts her eyes solemnly as the news settles on everyone, and Skyclaw's cries are what cause her to wince the most. Gentlestorm is coming to help her, but she can't leave yet. "I saw him, Skyclaw," She murmurs, stumbling to her grandson's side. "He is in StarClan. He is with your mother now." Her eyes gloss over once more, but she hopes her words bring him any form of comfort. "He died a hero." A tear drops, landing on her paws and she has to close her eyes tight to calm herself again. She can't start crying again. She can't.

The sharp wail that pierces the air belongs to Leopardtongue. She jerks her head up, grief painting her face as the pregnant she-cat mourns. "I'm so sorry," She whispers, hanging her head. She begins to limp towards her, but the hissing of Rainsweptblossom catches her attention - and many others. "That's enough! Rainsweptblossom, Freckleflame," She barks firmly to the loudest of the arguers, her snout wrinkling despite the pain on her features. But the older warrior is already storming away, and Howlingstar can only stare after her disapprovingly. How dare anyone start an argument now, of all times? An argument about how a queen should grieve her mate when she is pregnant with his kits? Sighing, she looks to the wailing Leopardtongue, gaze clouded with sympathy. She knows what she feels. She can still remember the grief that had torn a hole in her chest when Gray Wolf passed away, before the dark tabby had even known she’d been pregnant with their final litter. A litter that is only survived by one kit, Raccoonstripe.

And as Tigerpaw’s cries sound nearby, Howlingstar gives one last grieving look to Leopardtongue before murmuring, “Batwing saved this clan. He is a hero.” She needs the queen to know that. “I’m so sorry.” She wants to offer so much more. She wants to offer her shoulder, her ears, a meal, but she knows as well as anyone nothing can help. The pain will be raw for some time, and all they can do is let the she-cat grieve.

 

[braveheart : ̗̀➛]

☀ . ° ✦ Not fair. Not fair NOT FAIR! Shouts over and over in his thoughts like it will change anything. Like it will mean anything. The long pause after the final warrior passed through the brambles made his heart stutter.

Doepaw's voice tugged him back and he turned to the poor-sighted molly with another sniffle.

"I-I think my... My Papa's gone." Round blue eyes turned up to his mother as they wordlessly understood the news before Rabbitnose confirmed it. Bravepaw pressed his forehead against his mothers shoulder, a collision of mirrored pelts as he tried to comfort her as much as himself. His breath shuddered through every inhale, winded by the same weight of shock Sunfreckle's death had.

It's not fair.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

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  BRAVEPAW — HE/HIM ･ 6 MOONS ･ THUNDERCLAN & APPRENTICE ･ PENNED BY beatae!

  A Longhaired chocolate tabby/blue tabby chimera with deep blue eyes. Very thick coat that has started to grow into long, wispy curls. Developing into an awkward stage of kitten uglies as the rest of his body grows and changes.

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[CARDINALPAW]

༺♱༻

Waiting, waiting, waiting. The only way that he could tell that they hadn't spent an eternity waiting for the scuffle of paws to come back through the broken barrier into camp was the way that the beams of sunlight that filtered into the nursery had only shifted so much, indicating that time had been moving at its usual pace after all. The hours they waited were a lesson in how to hold your breath for as long as you could, a lesson in how to stare at the wall, a lesson in how to pray to Starclan that everything would be alright, the latter of which he was doing poorly at. Any words that drifted into his mind were quickly swallowed, stolen away by the fear and anticipation that was clawing at him, digging a burrow in his stomach to crawl and settle in. At the same time, the passing pieces of words told him this: Batwing was brave and powerful and wise. There was no way that the stars were not looking after him, protecting him. That was what Starclan was for, right? As far as Cardinalpaw was concerned, the whole forest should be at Batwing's paws, too -- his father was an incredible cat and noble warrior, someone who everyone looked up to. The wind should rise to meet him, and the flowers should open their petals and dance for him, because there was no one more worthy.

Even with the danger, there was no way anything would happen to Batwing, because that was just not how things were supposed to work. His father was good, and even wolves could not touch him.

As soon as his ears pick up cats approaching, and the scent of iron fills the air, his vision and mind return to their usual crispness, and his heart begins to pound against his ribcage, threatening to escape. While Bravepaw and his mother linger in the entrance to the nursery, he shoulders past both of them into the clearing, bright orange eyes blown wide with an anxiety that was extremely unusual for him. His vision blurs at the edges, and his ears tune out most of the words of his clanmates, both those who had stayed behind and those returning, panic rising in his throat as he watches cats re-enter the camp. The varied colors of their pelts mostly blur together despite how focused he was, a mottle of orange and brown and black. Everyone was sorted into the category of not Batwing, and like Bravepaw, Cardinalpaw couldn't focus on anything else. Not Duskbird, not Howlingstar -- despite death, despite the scent of blood, all that mattered was that they were not Batwing.

And it turned out that the last cat to return was not Batwing, either. Though Leopardtongue and Bravepaw had already realized that he had not returned, and would not, Cardinalpaw had been too absorbed in watching and in his anxieties for the thought to cross his mind, convinced that his father was infallible, that there was just no way -- but reality hits hard when he waits, and waits, and waits, and no more cats come into camp. The little apprentice lets out a horrible shriek of grief, a flood of tears spilling from his eyes, now screwed shut, his scrawny body shivering terribly under the weight of anguish. His lungs scream for air, and he gasps to try to fill his lungs, but it quickly gets wrenched back out due to his sobs. It's impossible to think of anything but loss, and it requires no thought to run back to Leopardtongue, burying his face into her rosetted fur as he wails, choking on the only words that were able to surface, quickly getting cut off, "Why.. why?! Wh.."

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"speech"​