sensitive topics The sweetest songs of praise (Fox attack; stranger)

Bingley

Bingley

PILGRIM
Dec 25, 2022
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The forest at dusk was a beautiful sight. Sturdy trunks upheld a ceiling of vivid green leaves, cooled now by fading light; shadows blossomed among the undergrowth, even as the world's edges were softened by the growing twilight. The air itself felt like velvet, silkily draped over shrubs, fallen logs, and ferns. A soft breeze shifted through the woods, bringing with it welcome coolness for the greenleaf day. And through the day's end crept Bingley, his nicked ears held against his head, his snowy paws soundless as they skimmed across the leaf-strewn earth. The edge of the land of the storm-cats is close, thought the ginger tom. Nervous excitement brought on by his proximity to the border caused the tomcat's every sense to strain for any indication of other creatures of the wood.

Sparrow, up and to my left; mouse beneath those roots. But he wasn't looking for prey; he was far too anxious to eat. What he needed was to find the very limits of the ThunderClan cats' territory, and plunk himself there. Then he would beseech the storm-cats to grant him membership into their group - he would convince them, somehow. Some sort of grand speech, perhaps. Anything to earn himself a place among them. Anything to escape the inexorable pull of his isolation in the world; anything to escape the looming fear of his own fragility.

Of course, he didn't need to be highly attuned to his surroundings in order to notice what happened next: a harsh, yammering cry pulsed through the woods, tearing into the peaceful evening air like teeth into flesh. Bingley flinched and fled to the moss-covered top of a stump within a few heartbeats, recognizing the sound at once. Fox! He was no match for a fox, and he knew it. This will complicate things. But his plans needn't change overmuch: he would simply change course and run: away from the fox, back towards the Twolegplace. He'd return once the danger was gone, and plead his case then.

Mind made up, Bingley turned and was about to disappear into the depths of the wood when he heard something else: the yowl of a cat. A cat in danger, or in pain - or both. Alarm gripped him and concern rose to the surface of his mind, above his other emotions. Whoever that is, they're in trouble. I need to help them. Compassion and care for others were what made life worth living, after all - that was what separated him from the monsters who terrorized the innocent, the helpless, the frightened. He cared. That's what made him different, made him good, made him worthy: he cared. And if he cared hard enough, eventually, someone would care about him in return. Besides, if he and the mystery cat in distress could drive the fox off together, he'd be able to get to his destination all the faster.

Bingley thus bounded through the woods, following the battle-cries and the rancid fox-stench, athletic limbs powering him past the border and onto ThunderClan without his realizing it. He did not stop until he burst into a clearing and beheld the source of the commotion: a lanky, ragged-looking fox, all sharp teeth and beady eyes, had cornered an unfamiliar cat. Bingley only had time to perceive a scruffy blue pelt and emerald eyes before letting out a bellow, a clear challenge to the fox. It whipped its head around, and locked its eyes on him. He felt a knot of fear tie itself in his throat, but paid it no mind: the path was clear before him, just as it always was. He charged forward.

[ This will be open a little later, but for now, please don't post! <3 @Flycatcher ]​
 
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Patrols this close to the Twolegplace usually went well enough. Flycatcher had something of a neutral opinion of the kittypets and loners that inhabited these lands. They were often civil enough, usually leaving with a little prompting, or a more forceful remark. Although more neutral towards them, Flycatcher understood that it was better they lived separate lives, with the kittypets and loners keeping to their own turf and ThunderClan keeping to theirs. Still, on occasion, Flycatcher's gaze sometimes lingered a little wistfully across the Twolegplace. Not for any secret longing to go there himself, but in thought of his sister Moth, who lived alone as a kittypet since losing her children and sending her younger litter to join ThunderClan.

Flycatcher had pulled away from the rest of his patrol. A sound ahead had caught his attention and he was keen to investigate what it was, assuring the other cats it would only take a moment. Little did he know it would not.

As he padded on ahead, his eyes and ears remained alert for any sign of whatever was responsible for the sound he heard. As he moved further through the undergrowth, Flycatcher was aware of the faint smell of fox, but the trail he was picking up was faint and intermingled with fresher scents of prey animals and the scents of the Twolegpace. It was by chance he caught a stronger scent of fox when turning to return to his patrol and he felt a prickle of unease run down his since. Although they weren't particularly close to camp, he did not like the idea of the creature potentially catching the scent of cats and following it back to camp.

Following the trail, Flycatcher had only intended to track it at first, and should a confrontation have broken out he would have tried to drive it away. Alas, as he was trailing, the wind shifted and the fox knew he was there before he had much time to change course. As expected, a fight broke out, and though Flycatcher was keen to get the fox further away from ThunderClan territory he would earn a few bites for his trouble. The plan to lead the fox away seemed to be working well enough until Flycatcher found himself backed into a corner - in this case the roots of a tree - sharp teeth exposed and its beady eyes boring into him, perhaps contemplating making the ThunderClan deputy his next meal. Flycatcher aimed a swipe at the beasts muzzle but did little in the way to deter it. It was only the arrival of an unknown red and white tom that finally drew its attention. "What are you-" Before Flycatcher had time to finish his question he saw the tom charging ahead and the fox in turn charging forward to retaliate. "Be careful!" Was the only instruction he could muster at that moment, still trying to recover a bit of his strength from being attacked by the fox earlier.​
 
Bingley savored the perfect clarity he could experience at times when his adrenaline surged. Each one of his senses reported back to him with what felt like infinite detail: the individual sprouting-places for the whiskers on the fox's muzzle, the shiny strings of saliva bunting between its teeth. He paid no mind to what Flycatcher said - being careful was at once an automatic reaction, and one wholly unnecessary for his purposes now - but instead flung himself into the fox's face, hissing with outrage. He slashed once, twice, thrice at the beast's eyes - with quick, jabbing strikes - before feeling sharp teeth latch around one of his hind legs. Bingley gritted his teeth as he was thrown, his whole body howling in protest as he collided hard with the ground.

No time, no time, not fast enough - the fox was darting at him again, its forehead dripping blood into one dark, angry eye, and it seemed keen on dispatching this pesky animal once and for all. Bingley forced himself to his feet as quickly as he could, ignoring the fire that swallowed his injured hind limb, and cried out to Flycatcher. "RUN!" Even though it perhaps that went without saying, he said it anyway, in a single breath before the fox smashed into him. He had bought the stranger time, had intervened at just the right moment to prevent the ThunderClan deputy from being fox-food, had given him the chance to save his skin...

But a single cat could not fend off a fox for long, and whatever time Bingley had bought for Flycatcher was now being repaid, with interest. That splendid clarity was lost to a haze of snapping jaws, flailing claws, and blood: his and he fox's...but mostly his. Pain devoured him whole, as his vision began to narrow, darkness dropping over his vision as surely as night crawled over the forest. The ginger tom took a few final, desperate swipes and succumbed to the mounting agony. Only vaguely did he note that the loathsome creature was beginning to distance itself, head darting hesitantly between the two unexpectedly troublesome cats.

Bingley's awareness of his surroundings faded from his mind as he allowed himself to collapse, crumpling as easily as a wet leaf beneath a paw. He lay still, bloodied and battered, uncomprehending, even as the beast skulked off in search of easier prey. Fear and hope were his companions as he sank into the depths, quite certain that these were his last moments. He was not too terribly displeased by them. It did hurt, but... I did my very best for you, stranger. I - I don't want to die. But...maybe...it's enough...to get me...th...

And then Bingley thought not at all, cocooned in unconsciousness.

[ TL;DR: He's unconscious, and the fox ran off (Flycatcher is welcome to have helped chase it off, of course!) This thread is now open <3 ]​
 
When her father broke away from the patrol, Stormpaw did not think much of it. She remained close to the rest, following alongside @OWLEAR . There was an unfamiliar scent in the air—feline, she decided, but nothing like she had ever experienced at Gathering. Not a Clan cat, she thought, fur bristling and claws extending at the thought of being able to chase an intruder off their territory. Her tracking was not excellent but she was trying.

Then the wind turned and she heard a strange shout—RUN. Stormpaw felt a thrill of uncertainty race down her spine and her tail was held upright. "Flycatcher's in trouble!" She suddenly came to the conclusion, bounding away from the patrol to the sounds of the struggle. She remembered the last time her father had returned to camp exhausted and injured. She bristled with determination. She would not allow this second time to be his last.

Stormpaw burst from a clump of ferns, teeth bared and claws unsheathed. The danger of fox was subsiding, but she made sure to keep her wits about her. The bloodied orange cat soon caught her attention at once. "Who?" She startled, unsure of what to do. Of course, the cat was bleeding out, but he was no ThunderClan cat, and for all she could know, he could have been planning the attack on her father.

​
 

His own plea for his unknown saviour to be careful is ignored. Whether he was willfully ignoring him or not hearing him given the situation, Flycatcher could not say. He did not know this tom but was in awe of his random act of bravery, even if charging such a violent animal was rather foolish.

When Flycatcher finally regains enough strength to stand and perhaps fight again, he can see that a considerable amount of damage has been done on both sides. The poor tom looked in a bad state and Flycatcher could sense he was flagging, with how desperate his swipes were becoming. With a renewed bout of strength, Flycatcher surged forward himself, puffing up his fur and hissing, making a wipe for a hind leg. It was lucky that the stranger had landed some blows on the fox, as it seemed too weary to fight back much, its gaze darting back and forth between the two cats who had proven too troublesome for it to deal with.

With the fox trailing away, Flycatcher stepped over to the stranger, but not before letting a moment pass to ensure the fox would not immediately return when his back was turned. The red and white tom collapsed to the floor, and Flycatcher's brow creased with concern. "Hey, hey!" Flycatcher urged, trying to keep the tom awake. "Stay with me now. What's your name, where did you - Oh." It seemed Flycatcher would get no answer to his questions as the tom slipped out consciousness, bloodied and battered but miraculously still alive.

The rustle of a nearby fern alerted him to Stormpaw's presence. For a moment he thought it might be the fox, but felt himself relax once he noticed his daughter's familiar pelt. "It's okay Stormpaw," He spoke softly to his daughter, attempting to soothe her. "This cat is no threat to you. He saved my life."​
 

an unfamiliar scent, another unwelcome guest. another kit dropped on their land, she assumed. the patrol would be cut short, again, they would drop the child off at the nursery, again. it was becoming quite annoying to pick up the mess left by loners and kittypets alike.

but there was something else, a dangerous scent. one that came from a creature with a pointed muzzle and bushed tail, snapping white jaws. blood tinged the sweet smell of greenleaf, and off went stormpaw racing into the brush to save her father. whether the fox or the intruder would prove more difficult to deal with was still up in the air, but the lead warrior followed quietly behind owlear's torbie apprentice as she bounded away.

reaching the scene, her gaze scanned the trees waiting for a flash of ruddy fur. there was none darting around seeking for an opening to attack. instead, the only orange pelt she saw was doused in blood, rising and falling shallowly as it's owner clung to life. her brow dipped. not a threat, says flycatcher. it was hard to do anything but believe him when looking at the intruder in such a state.

what now, though? no threats remaining, just the victim of one lying on their territory. they would be smart to push him back over the barrier. wasting herbs on a stranger when windclan's ire loomed seemed illogical, but it was not up to her. "what will we do with them?" she was hesitant, slightly disdainful at the idea of allowing this stranger into camp.
‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
  • apprentice tags for @DUSKPAW & @LIGHTPAW .


  • IMG_0032.png
    Click to expand...
  • NIGHTBIRD ✩ she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, twenty-three moons
    ⭃ nightbird is a small black smoke molly with pale silver eyes. a loner turned thunderclanner, her loyalty and drive to provide for her clan is unwavering. however, she is not known for harboring a bleeding heart, instead equipped with sarcastically fueled wit, brutal honesty, and a sharply edged tongue.
    ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    ⭃ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​
 

What will we do with them? Flycatcher frowns at Nightbird's question. Not because he disapproves of it - her question brings up a fair point, after all - but because he is truly stuck on what to do. On one hand he is not overly comfortable bringing a stranger back to camp and getting Berryheart to give up herbs to heal him. On the other hand, Flycatcher could not in good conscience leave the tom there to die after bravely jumping in to defend him.

"We'll send one of the apprentices to fetch Howlingstar," He mewed coolly, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight and a bite from the fox irritated him. "I don't love the idea of bringing a stranger to camp but I also cannot ignore the fact he saved me. Maybe Howlingstar would make an exception if she heard the full story...or at the very least consent for the poor tom to be given some herbs to have a fighting chance."

/ tagging @HOWLINGSTAR and assuming one of the apprentices left to fetch her​
 
When the apprentice reaches camp and tells Howlingstar a very short version of what had transpired, she makes haste to meet her deputy and lead warrior at the border. She is bounding through the undergrowth as quickly as she can manage, heart racing at the thought of a fox on the territory. What else would be next?

She arrives at the scene panting, eyes first finding Flycatcher, wounded but it isn't too bad, and Stormpaw and Nightbird. Behind them, a ginger tom lies slumped on the ground, bloodied. Her fur bristles instinctively. "What happened? I only heard bits and pieces. Who is this?" She asks quickly, tone sharp and worried as she moves forward on tentative paws to examine him. The stench of fox still lingers in the air, but now her attention is on the unconscious cat in ThunderClan's forest.​
 

They aren't kept waiting long when Howlingstar reaches them. Despite the pain starting to settle in from his wounds, Flycatcher dips his head in greeting. As expected, the leader is quick to bristle, evidently unsure what to make of the stranger and scene in front of her. "He is a stranger," Flycatcher explained, glancing towards the orange and white tom. "A stranger but a helpful one."

Flycatcher rolled his shoulders as a sigh left him. "There was a fox on the territory. I had detected some trace of it but the scent seemed to be weak so I assumed it had moved on. The scent trail must have gotten mixed up with all the scents from the Twolegplace because the next thing I knew it had spotted me and was trying to attack me. I tried to lead the fox further away from camp but it was more feisty than I anticipated and had me backed up against a tree where it would have surely mauled me to death. Fortunately, this stranger came out of nowhere and put his life on the line to save mine."

"Howlingstar, may I say something?" Flycatcher mewed. The deputy glanced at the fallen tom, who still lay unconscious after his bout with the fox. "Like you, I am not fond of bringing strangers to the camp. However, I have to ask, is there not something that could be done for him? After what he did for me I do not know if I am just comfortable leaving him to his wounds."​
 
She levels Flycatcher with an intense look as he relays what happened. Her pelt bristles at the thought of a fox lingering on their territory, unheard and unseen until it was too late. But from the sounds of it, without this tom, her deputy would be gone. She looks back at him quizzically, expression not betraying anything before the blue tabby makes his request. She doesn't like it...she never has liked any strangers in her camp, where kits and elders, sick and injured remain. But can she turn her back on a cat on the brink of death, who saved her deputy's life? There is a debt to be paid, here, as much as she doesn't like it.

"Berryheart can surely spare some herbs..." She decides, ears flicking back uncomfortably. "But as soon as he's recovered, he's leaving." She gives Flycatcher a nod before trilling, "Let's get him back to camp. With all three of us, I think we can carry him across our backs." Hopefully. ​
 

nightbird hums in agreement to flycatcher's words although she could not hide her disgruntled state, aggravated by the idea of allowing the battered feline into camp. howlingstar appears to the scene quickly, asking for information that was missed in the apprentice's relay. the molly sat back as the deputy filled her in, glancing over to the intruder every so often.

flycatcher requests help for the orange pelted feline, a dark torn ear twitches. whoever he was, the loner made a choice to help. he had to know the possible consequences. in her mind, that alone was not enough excuse to provide aide. they could drag him to skyclan, surely they'd love another stray to pad their ranks. but, their leader obliges. just long enough to heal, the tabby states, and now they were all tasked with lugging his unconscious body back to camp.

"alright." her verbal recognition is paired with a small nod as she moved closer, readying herself to lift the limp form once everyone else was in position.
‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎



  • IMG_0032.png
    Click to expand...
  • NIGHTBIRD ✩ she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, twenty-four moons
    ⭃ nightbird is a small black smoke molly with pale silver eyes. a loner turned thunderclanner, her loyalty and drive to provide for her clan is unwavering. however, she is not known for harboring a bleeding heart, instead equipped with sarcastically fueled wit, brutal honesty, and a sharply edged tongue.
    ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    ⭃ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​
 
"He... saved you?" Stormpaw blanked. Now the conflict grew more intense within her chest. She had been brought up in true ThunderClan ways to shun outsiders, and in her heart she wanted to treat this cat with that same mentality, but she struggled to reconcile it with the fact that he had saved her father's life.

Stormpaw waited with the others while Howlingstar arrived. Flycatcher and the leader were two cats she respected and her tail flicked uneasily as they deliberated while the loner was bleeding out in front of them. Then it was settled, Berryheart had herbs to spare and while Stormpaw had no knowledge of what went inside the medicine den, she was still miffed about the whole situation.

"I'll, er!" Stormpaw cleared her throat. "I'll bring up the rear." She offered. Perhaps those wounds would open up wider, and if all three of the warriors held the cat on their back, they might not be able to see the damage they were doing to the tabby.

​
 
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