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SHRIKETHORN ★

I'LL BE GREAT TOO [ 01.30.24 ]
Dec 4, 2023
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( )  The loyalists lick their wounds. They look pathetic, beaten and bloodied, fleeing from the very cats that they drove away. Shrikethorn is sick of it. She's been waiting for the right opportunity for so long, the perfect chance to do what she knows she must.

She can't bear to wait any longer.

She catches Sootstar as soon as they can once they're back home -- a home the leader has made a mockery of. "Mother," Shrikethorn begins, level voice simmering softly with long-held hatred. "We need to speak." She leaves no room for argument, words firm and decisive. She can't hold it back any longer, can't go on with this charade.

She narrowly resists glancing around to ensure there are onlookers. She doesn't want this to be private. The whole "clan" needs to see -- a grim satisfaction settles in her chest. This will surely get eyes on her. Maybe some of them will see the reason in her words, the frailty in her mother's. Maybe she's not alone, maybe she too can rally the most hesitant of the rebels. Those like her, waiting and waiting for the right chance.

Or maybe it'll just be a chance to finally tell off her mother. Feel that vindictive satisfaction of knowing she's right.

There's a burning certainty in Shrikethorn's golden eyes. Her gaze is steady, as is her voice. She knows this is what she needs to do. She's never been more certain of anything in her life. But she has learned restraint, and it is a hard thing to train out of her. So she begins more softly, words accusatory but not explosive, as she would like to be. "Do you truly still think the way you lead this clan is right?"
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  • // @SOOTSTAR takes place after the battle at horseplace!
  • ˏˋ • ☄ SHRIKETHORN. WINDCLAN TUNNELER. SHE / HER.
    19 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SMALL WHITE MOLLY WITH ASHY GRAY PATCHES AND PIERCING YELLOW EYES.

    SOOTSTAR xx FLINT. LITTERMATE TO SOOTSPOT.
 

Her body aches. Adrenaline has worn off and the wounds covering her body now stung. Sootstar is hardly in the mood to be bothered by her kits- none of them seemed to have much good to say anymore. None of them did much good either, deserting her... betraying their own mother... she struggles to even look at Shrikethorn. No longer does she see her reflection in her first-born kits, all she sees is their father, gray-pelted and white muzzled. At least she did not have his eyes.

"Speak? Now? I don't have time." She snaps, waving Shrikethorn away with a dismissive lash of her tail. Only the warrior persists. She urks her, insults her. Sootstar has half a mind then and there to turn around and slice her claws against her daughter's face, teach her a lesson for allowing such words to leave her lips. "The way I've led my clan has always been right. You think otherwise, Shrikethorn?" Sootstar is all too aware of the crowd of injured cats around them, with no medicine cat to heal them they'd all be licking their wounds tonight.

"For you to question me of all times- do I understand right? That you are challenging me? Is that what you're doing? Shrikethorn?" Sootstar bares her teeth, glinting yellow in the moonlight.
  • » 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
 
( )  Sootstar has no time for her as usual, and it only fiels Shrikethorn's ire. She will make time for her. Her bared teeth of a threat only makes the young molly stand taller. "And if I am?" She challenges, staring her mother down.

She paces closer, tail lashing. Begins more restrained, more level, but the more she speaks the louder she grows. "I would be far from the first. How many will it take to convince you, Sootstar? If the whole world was against you, then would you halt this crusade?" Her voice builds to a flaming call. She's surely drawn everyone's attention now, and it feels good, feels righteous. She hardly pauses before continuing. "I doubt it. You would cast the whole of WindClan away before admitting you're wrong." The word wrong is spat like damnation.

She can't stop now. Words burst from her chest, bitter and accusatory. If her mother deems fit to punish it for it (which she will, most certainly) then it'll only prove her point. "Does it feel good? Is it all you've ever wanted? A band of wounded, witless fools at your beck and call. Your deputy, nearly all your kits, even the ancestors you once dedicated your life to -- they have all abandoned you." Left alone, queen of a crumbling kingdom. She's blinded herself so as not to see it. It's sickening.

A note of pleading slips into Shrikethorn's tone, a soft dimming of her fury. "Do you remember when we fought righteously, the stars at our heels?" She was starstruck by her mother once. She would have worshipped her if it meant standing by her side. She stood by her for so long; something in her voice entreats, Am I not your most loyal of children? Have I not been here by your side, always? Longer than the youngest, more loyal than her brother.

She can no longer see that glorious pinnacle of all that was good. The paranoid tyrant that stands before her is a shell of what she once was. "You must see this is not the same, mother. Staining the moors with blood of those we called clanmates... I can't sit and watch it go on." Shrikethorn stares down her vitrolic mother.

She once wanted to be like her; now, righteous indignation fueling her words, she knows that she is better.
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  • //
  • ˏˋ • ☄ SHRIKETHORN. WINDCLAN TUNNELER. SHE / HER.
    19 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SMALL WHITE MOLLY WITH ASHY GRAY PATCHES AND PIERCING YELLOW EYES.

    SOOTSTAR xx FLINT. LITTERMATE TO SOOTSPOT.
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: revelations

It feels as if hot coals are being pressed into her face as her fury swells. Shrikethorn challenges her, yellow eyes piercing and unwavering. This was not how a warrior, her own kit should be talking to her. It was against everything she taught them, everything they should know.

”You’ve allowed them to get to you, they’re two faced words. They’ve manipulated your kin and now they’ve succeeded manipulating you. How can you be so- weak?!” She hisses raising her head as high as she could to the sky, even then she stood short. ”I’ve done nothing but empower this clan, it is thanks to me we strike fear in the hearts of our enemies. It’s because of me WindClan stands on top, even without the other clans, without StarClan, without my traitor clan-mates!”

They all thought it so easy to lead, so easy to keep a clan powerful. They’d do no better in her paws, only she could lead this clan, how could cats like Shrikethorn be tricked into thinking otherwise?

”What do you intend to do then, leave? Join Sunstride and die at his side? …No, you know better.” One last challenge, a dare for Shrikethorn to say otherwise.
  • » 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
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: revelations
( )  Sootstar only doubles down. Yellow eyes flash, pacing closer. "Hah! You think me weak?" She's taller than her mother, if not by much. "I could say the same of you. Clinging to your power so desperately -- did we strike fear into Sunstride and his followers when we fled like rabbits?" Shrikthorn's tail lashes behind her. Her mother must be mad to think that what she's doing is empowering WindClan. She's done nothing but tear them apart.

Her lip curls in disgust. "I'd certainly be better off with him! At least he has some sense." She should have joined them long ago, should have taken the chance when she had it. She's seen too much of her mother's perfect clan, full of mindless sycophants.

They surround her now. She does not look at them, only Sootstar. Shrikethorn is all too aware that she is surrounded, that WindClan would tear her apart on her mother's order. She keeps her breathing steady.

No backing out now. "You're wrong about me, mother. And I was wrong about you. I thought you'd know better than to destroy your own clan." She pauses for a moment. Raises her head high in challenge. Resentment and rage spark a wildfire in her chest. She's not running. She stands her ground, lets the flames spill forth from her maw. "I suppose this is goodbye, then." A smile curls around her maw, tilts her head to the side. Everyone is watching. All eyes on her. She digs her own grave with tone slipping back into that cold, disaffectedness she's worked so hard to adopt: "Do you intend to stop me?"
74701060_9q7jeRpuNlkPdZT.png

  • //
  • ˏˋ • ☄ SHRIKETHORN. WINDCLAN TUNNELER. SHE / HER.
    19 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SMALL WHITE MOLLY WITH ASHY GRAY PATCHES AND PIERCING YELLOW EYES.

    SOOTSTAR xx FLINT. LITTERMATE TO SOOTSPOT.
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: revelations