their feathers congeal ✧ execution order

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

Puffs of hot air conflict in the icy chill to form a clouded manifestation of fury- each breath is a dogged one, taking more effort than it should've. The frost-bitten air makes tired lungs constrict in tight shackled protest and every dragging paw-step sings of unclaimed yearning for vengeance. Paws stained in crimson. The wrong color scarlet...

It had been a promise then, a spit-drippled hissing threat to see that miserable wretch ended... Sasha's intervention had only delayed an inevitable end. There was not a stretch of land as far as the horizon touched that would spare them from the divine-touched punishment she'd screeched of. StarClan had heard her, she is sure of it. They would give her this... or show their faces as real enemies to deny it.

Dawnstorm and Dewcloud's lingering presence to help her bring home a rose-throated king still makes the fur on her hackles stand on end, blue-fire eyes flicking to keep them in her peripherals at all and any moments. They had sworn to do better.. but it had still been a priority of theirs to rip her off of Deacon and in that way, they were traitors of the heart. She could not trust them in isolation like this... vulnerable where vermillion scratches welled up a love letter to fresh betrayal with a shadow-slumped tom in such a state of disrepair.

It took an agonizingly long time to get all the way from the border back to the safety of camp.. and splashing through the shallow waters to wash away a marker of her failure to protect him... it wasn't enough to release the stain from behind her eyes- a memory, a living nightmare to be played on repeat. I shouldn't have moved. Two times, a crow-feathered champion struck for her mistakes. Two times too many.

"Get Ravensong, now," is the first command given in sharp, barking order to the poor, wide-eyed fool that catches their return with Smokestar's body in tow. StarClan is taking their time... she'd spent the whole trek back thinking about it, worrying they would take too long and he'd just bleed a trail of lost lives across the territory. "Where's Snakeblink? Actually... never mind..."

Gingerly... so gently... she removes herself from under the heavy weight of her leader, moving him to the trusted grip of someone who'd come rushing to help. Someone she could trust... someone that wasn't a murderer. Forgive me, she thinks, searching for Beepaw... Cicadapaw... Starlightpaw. For three little kittens she'd played with and doted on and now stood with their uncle's still flanks, knowing it a personal failure to have him home this way.

Purpose drives her in equal measures as regret does, taking long strides towards the rocky outcropping that served as a throne for decrees, an announcement pavilion that stood above the entire clan. It felt wrong. But when she rounded the top to stare at the gathering crowd, a revenge-tempered confidence carries her edict without wavering.

"RiverClan hear me! The cats formerly known as Thornmask and Cedarblaze, otherwise known as Deacon and Sasha of the Ripple Colony," she begins, watching as her den-mates and friends and family alike search the crowd for the missing, those who had left with their deputy and leader and didn't return with them now.

"Are to be killed on sight."

Her tail lashes in a sweeping arc, struggling to suppress a cough that tickles in her chest- a sense of justice washes through violence-hungry bones, claws dig firmly into shifting pebbles. "They are traitors- exiles. It was their claws that saw fit to slaughter Smokestar in cold-blood... and should be repaid that kindness with their own lives."

"Any failure to see their lives ended without hesitation... will be met with severe consequences," eyes devoid of kindness, a voice hardened without patience, "Do not test.... what those consequences will be."

Leaping from the pile of stones, they flick their gaze towards the lead warriors, landing squarely on Snakeblink last of all with a small grimace. She coughs against the frigid air and the way it hurts her lungs, becomes aware of the way her body stings with what small allowance she had to try to repay the life with another life- if they just hadn't been outnumbered... If she hadn't stepped away, hadn't trusted them...

You tried... it wasn't enough.

---

WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD

THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN​

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[iciclefang]

Had Iciclefang been in RiverClan during the Ripple Colony cats’ joining, the tortoiseshell imagines she would have protested just as she had when Boneripple and Hyacinthbreath had been allowed into their Clan. Seeing the red ruin of Smokestar’s body now, seeing the dead glint of Lichentail’s blue eyes, the young lead warrior throws herself closer, her body tense with anger coiled tight enough to spring. “RiverClan, hear me! The cats formerly known as Thornmask and Cedarblaze, otherwise known as Deacon and Sasha of the Ripple Colony, are to be killed on sight.” Her horrified expression flits into one of seething rage; she tears her gaze from her former mentor’s stiffened dark figure to Lichentail’s grim features.

“They killed him?” Outrage tightens her mew. Her blue gaze flicks to Dawnstorm, to Dewcloud, and her lip peels away to reveal her fangs. “And what about these cats? Can we trust them not to turn on us?” Her ears lay flat against her skull, her blue gaze teeming with fury and suspicion. “Shouldn’t we chase them out too?”

, ”​

​

 

[BEEFANG]

FIGHT SO DIRTY BUT YOU LOVE SO SWEET — The call of Lichentail accompanied with the smell of blood cause her own to run cold and her eyes widen at the sight of her father's limp corpse, the fur along her neck lifting and her claws drawing out to dig into the ground underneath her. Starclan had taken him once more, heartless cats stripped him of another life and she can feel her blood beginning to boil. If she had been there... Perhaps she could've done something. A part of her silently doubts it though her mismatched gaze locks onto the searching one of the deputy, large ears pricked forward, and she listens to the words that tumble from their maw. Sasha and Deacon. The fact that they hadn't been killed already upsets her yet she listens closely to Lichentail's words that the pair of cats were to be killed on sight and anyone who hesitated would face consequences. A true Riverclanner would never hesitate to fight tooth and claw for their leader, she wouldn't. Her pupils narrowed turning her attention to Dewcloud and Dawnstorm that had returned, her bottlebrush tail sweeping behind her in an angry lash.

Iciclefang speaks out and voices her similar thoughts, Beepaw would angrily spat "They're no better than rogues or Windclanners." Her ears pressed flat against her helm though she decides to save her breath to get a closer look at the crimson that pooled from her mentor's throat and she swallowed feeling her throat becoming dry, Beepaw turns her gaze away making sure not to invade his space knowing that if Ravensong appeared then he would want his space to work. Instead, Beepaw searches for her littermates so she could shield them from the sight and try to distract them from the sting. Her eyes burned with distrust and hatred towards the cats formerly part of the Ripple Colony. Why should they trust any of them? A soft growl slips from her throat.

TALK SO PRETTY ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳˚❥ BUT YOUR HEART GOT TEETH

• 

• 
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ shorthaired black smoke molly w/low white and mismatched eyes
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ 6 moons old; ages the 10th every month
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ sexuality unknown/too young
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ currently being mentored by smokestar
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ daughter of cicadastar and smokestar
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ sister of cicadapaw & starlightpaw
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ peaceful powerplay allowed

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[willowroot]

( ☾ ) smoke colored hackles raise as the feline is informed of the murder taking place on her very own territory. emerald eyes dart from lichentail's snarling features to the fearfully quiet dewcloud and dawnstorm. worry for smokestar comes to the forefront of the warrior's mind, but as iciclefang and beepaw speak up, turning against their new clanmates in a heartbeat, a soft growl rumbles from willowroot's throat.

"did lichentail say dawnstorm or dewcloud?" she asks, stern gaze sweeping the dissenters. "as far as i heard, she said deacon and sasha. do not compare loyal clanmates to rogues just because of something their former colony-members have done." looking back at her deputy, she gives a nod. "order noted, lichentail." ​

 

[shellpaw]

a pawful of warriors had said they heard it — an awful screeching at the edges of their territory. their ears angle and they go to stand aside the guard standing rigid and alert by the stones that lead away from their drained island. she watches from where she’d been ushered inside, twitches small, downy ears to try and catch more of i don’t think — and maybe it was an animal —. some weren’t concerned. some paced, murmur soft about taking a patrol out to check but the deputy and leader were out.. could they risk it, if there were a predator? shellkit pretends she understands this, the direness of it. she steps from the shroud of lichen and willow leaves draped warm over the nursery walls to get a closer look, to be just as important as those whispering hushedly amongst themselves. she nears, silent as a mouse, just as ears perk, heads swerve. low - held tails still.

there is a rustling, a dragging. lichentail appears through the reed, dragging something large and black, speckled white with more than snow, then drenched red. drenched red.

her world tilts. she’s not seen this before. the lilac girl stops in delicate - placed paw steps, hobbles to an awkward, wide - stances stand. she stares dumb and open at the body of her uncle. she knows he is dead — but that doesn’t make sense, dead was something only prey and elders could be, but here he was. crumpled, in a way she’d only ever seen a broken mouse. twisted all bent and shredded, lines of red peeling away to a deeper white where blood had long since staunched on their way back. lichentail was covered in it, the awful, awful red. something rips at her inside. an innocence, swan - feather soft begins to strip, a pluck - pluck - pluck pattering along to the rapid beat of her heart. it sounds too loud in her ears.

and perhaps that’s why she doesn’t hear herself wail. a dovelike, warbling thing ripping an undercurrent of misery amidst her quick - talking elders. the nuances of her uncles leadership has yet to be comprehended, skull too soft and still forming for her to wrap her whirling mind around death, even less resurrection. shellkit doesn’t want to get closer but she does anyway, looking ; for what, she couldn’t say. she wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. she only stomps her paws rythmically against the ground, a desperate, fidgeting thing, ” oh no, ohh no! “ the girl crows, riding on a half - hitched breath that has her concaved chest fluttering a desperate attempt for breath — the only expression of such agony that she knows other than to call for help. who could help? lichentail asks for ravensong, but ravensong only had his stinking leaves and petals, so what good would he do? her maw parts wide on a gulp, another, before she finally lets her rump hit the powdered snow behind. horrible no, noo’s hiccup freely from her mouth, as if she couldn’t stop them. she is numb all the way up her arms, and doesn’t think it’s the cold.

they say something of deacon, of sasha. shellkit doesn’t understand these words, and it cowers her, tucks her body in on itself until she is little more than the snow itself. she wanted hazecloud, too run to the mollys side and tuck into her milk - scented fur.. but all she could do is sit, staring, too emptily for a kitten.

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𓇼 𝙎𝙊 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿

• i.
  
  
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  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. TWO MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  delicate lilac - striped molly with sugarplum eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber ---------- ° ❀ ⋆
  

  currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

  
  

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[goldenpaw !!]

With time, the label of Ripple Colony has shuffled to the back of Goldenpaw’s mind, too caught up in training and making friends with her denmates to dwell much on it. She had been one of the kits, uninvolved in what the adults of the group did. When they joined RiverClan, she had followed in need of food and shelter. Some part of her had always still been connected, simply by knowing cats like Sasha and Deacon longer. But her survival had never been political. Goldenpaw’s world had expanded step by step, from her family, then to the small colony of cats who took her in, and now it was ever-increasing as she learned more borders.

Except now, a portion of that fell apart.

She draws near as Lichentail calls. The sense of oddity in seeing the deputy announce something, and the sudden urgency, makes a not-winter shiver careen down her spine. Something is wrong, wrong, wrong, poised on the claw’s edge of danger, and she tries to find one of her denmates to stand by.

"They what?" Goldenpaw cries. She thinks of the two cats Lichentail announces, thinks about Cedarblaze wanting to linger around dog-scent to protect others. It doesn’t line up with her idea of these cats, but the truth in it rings out, and she feels panic crackle on the ends of her nerves.

Shellkit’s own repeated, worried voice is almost lost in the blood roaring in her ears, but she turns to the other tabby. Too much for a baby to witness, she frowns, her eyes stinging with tears. "Let's go back to the nursery, Shellkit," she says hoarsely, unsure if she is heard over the voices. Something to do, some excuse to disappear from the crowd.

An order on their lives — a fitting punishment for murderers. Her eyes don’t go in the direction Smokestar is carried, knowing he is dead and there was nothing to see that would benefit her. Had something been going on under her nose, a tension unseen by her that threaded the former Ripple Colony to RiverClan? For all her time here, she had believed they were merged, that the colony and the clan were one. Had they not been?

i know you can make it righta

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[Tidesong]

When Smokestar had pulled away members of the Ripple colony to talk, Tidesong had been out at the time. She returned with prey and thought nothing of their absence, figuring they would be right back and she could ask what happened. The small molly chose to wait in camp, out of the way and with her paws tucked under her to keep them warm after fishing. She liked it here, living beside the river. She had always revered the water and it's power to give and take, and thought she was fitting in quite well amongst Riverclan even if she wasn't the most social.

She was not blind though, to those that saw her and her colony as just rogues. She made sure to keep her wits about her, wary of anyone who looked down at her in ways other than literal. She could always feel eyes on her, but she never thought she was in danger.

Until today, when Lichentail returns with Smokestars body and an order to execute Deacon and Sasha on sight.

"What happened..!?" She asks, looking to those who had returned. She wants to know what caused Deacon and Sasha to kill Smokestar.

Seeing the dead leader has her feeling faint and she looks mortified. Would he come back like they say? Was he gone forever? Death was a complicated concept for Tidesong. To kill someone meant to end their existence. Gone forever. She had no way of knowing if there was an afterlife, and learning about Starclan was possibly the greatest comfort she could have gotten.

But seeing is believing, and her eyes never leave Smokestar.​

 

[PIKESPLASH]

I-i T-T-THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THIS???! The silver tom is trembling and it's not from fear this time but from pure frustration because wasn't it not too long ago where Smokestar got hurt? Besides Smokestar, they had lost another clanmate. I'm so sick of this. Wasn't clan life was supposed to be safe? Don't think back about the flood, the beavers, the rogue attack, actuallyyyy... Yeah, let's just say that clan life was not safe. It is safer he thinks than being a rogue or loner, and NO! I refuse to think o-o-otherwise! Anyhow, the sight of Smokestar's limp body was not pleasant. Even though their leader would return to them, he still hated the thought to see Smokestar dead regardless of how many lives he had. In many ways he was not envious of leaders because of this fact.

An order comes that Cedarblaze and Thornmask, or is it better to say Sasha and Deacon must be killed on sight. That they were the ones to kill Smokestar and that they were exiles. N-now that Lichen mentions it...So, uhh, t-that's why they're n-not here? He hadn't been paying much attention to the others that returned mostly because his eyes were focused on Lichentail and Smokestar's corpse. Only two out of the four of the former Ripple Colony members remained and if Lichentail hadn't said they were the ones to kill Smokestar he would've asked if they send out a patrol to find them. To bring them back home.

Pikesplash doesn't like death or the idea of killing someone, but he loathes punishment more. I hope I don't run into one of them... He won't hesitate, but by no means is he a skilled fighter and it's not like he wants to die by their claws either. With the clans first exiles under new leadership as well as orders to kill the new exiles, the clan erupts into anger and apprehension towards the former Ripple Colony members. While he can't say his clanmates anger is not unreasonable, it is also not fair towards the other former Ripple Colony members who were here. Willowroot is one he agrees with on this matter the most.

"H-hold on! L-l-like Willowroot said only Sasha and Deacon. The others shouldn't suffer because of them, and uhh, I think we should wait for Smokestar to wake up before we do anything." None of them besides the four who have returned know the true story of what happened. The end result is that Smokestar is dead and everyone can see that. There is no denying it, but chasing out an entire group of cats without hearing the events that transpired was drastic. Who knows if Smokestar would be enraged that they all decided to chase off cats who did no wrong.

He would look towards Lichentail. "Your o-o-orders are noted Lichentail, but please... Let's focus on Smokestar first." Maybe he is speaking out of line, but the truth of the matter is the last thing he wants is for a fight to break out within camp. Any rashness would cost them.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 it's easy just to pretend

• — pikesplash / riverclan warrior / masculine pronouns / 47 moons
  — bisexual / single / looking / open to flirting and crushes
  — short haired silver mackerel tabby with green eyes
  — may powerplay minor harm / can powerplay healing
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by velou

​

 

[PERCHBERRY]

Wh-what?. Pure horror crossed the anxious tom face over this shooking news. Not one but two of their own had ruthlessly decide to end their leaders life. Cedarblaze and Thornmask, two warriors he at least had went on one patrol with. Despite their background to not originally coming from here Perchberry had never thought of them less riverclanner then anybody else here. They had helpt them alot during their difficult time with the rogues and so when Cicadastar had accepted them in he had treated them like his clanmates. But this...changed everything. Perchberry was not trustful by nature, he was always wary of strangers even if he was willing to give a cat a chance to prove themself to be trustworthy. But this two now claimed rogues had done the complete opposite. It had shaken the newmade warrior up quite a bit.

Iciclefang adressed up his inner fear the same thoughts that just had crossed his own mind and even if he deep down know Willowroot made a fair and just point when defending the innocent ones in that colony - in that very moment was to far shaken up and scared beyond reason over how this could have happend, to why they even would decide to do such a horrifc thing after all they had gone through together.

Could he really trust the rest of them now?. Was Smokestar even okay despite his extra lives that had been gifted to him by the stars. How could a such bedrayal make anyone feel okay?. Percberry bit back on his lip, anxious higher then ever as he in that moment felt his own home was a stranger to him. That feeling would go away once he had calmed down, once his anxiety could put itself to rest to let him think rationally again. But for now his fear was far too real and blinding. He swollowed. Lichentail words of warning did not help to put his heart at any ease. He was orded to kill them at sight. Never had he ended another cats life before. What if he failed?. What if he couldn't do it. What would happen to him then?. Perchberry took a step back his ears pinned and tail almost inbetween his legs as he stared like a frightened rabbit. No...he didn't like any of this at all.


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[WAVEPAW]

Wavepaw had only been a few short weeks old when the Ripple Colony had joined Riverclan, and as such he had no memory of their former lives as loners. He only knew life as a clan cat, and in his heart he felt just as true a member of Riverclan as any cat born to it. He had no feelings of ill-will for taking away their freedom or culture, and he'd never wanted anything but to grow up and become a fierce warrior of the clan that had raised him.

However, he did know that there were some amongst his former colony who felt entirely different.

Still rather young, Wavepaw hadn't paid much attention to the whispers of unfairness or bitterness that issued from the lips of some of the older colony members. He didn't understand why they weren't more grateful for being given a place here, where they had family and friends to take care of them and make sure they never suffered alone like they had before. But they wanted that life back, and because he felt differently, he made sure to steer clear of warriors like Thornmask and Cedarblaze - Deacon and Sasha - so as not to be dragged into their drama.

But now it seemed that effort would be in vain. The fluffy blue apprentice cautiously wandered towards the gathered group, ears flattened against his skull at their cries for justice. "Smokestar...?" Ocean blue eyes widened in horror when they landed upon the broken figure of their leader, crimson blood flowing freely from the wounds inflicted on him by... Deacon and Sasha. Wavepaw hadn't been taken aside with the other Colony members, whether it be because they hadn't found him or because he was so young, but the situation was brand new and terrifying to behold for the young tom.

Litchentail called for the immediate execution of the guilty pair, and Wavepaw swallowed hard, nodding along to the deputy's order. "U-Understood, Litchentail." Yes, if they had, in fact, been the cause of this gruesome murder, they should be given the justice they deserved. Smokestar had been more than fair with them, giving them this opportunity to join their ranks and, in his mind, plenty of time to adjust. Maybe it was harder for the older cats than it had been for him, but that was no excuse for.... this.

The thought hadn't even entered his mind that the other Riverclanners would turn their anger to the rest of the former Colony members, but their sharp growls of hatred directed towards Dawnstorm and Dewcloud had his paws trembling. Were they going to be cast out too? Were they going to be... executed... alongside their traitorous former companions? Simply for the crime of being associated with them?

A quiet whimper inadvertently slipped from his chest at the blatant display of hostility and the small feline found himself pressing closer to Willowroot, with she and Pikesplash seemingly the only warriors amongst them who didn't immediately turn blame to the rest of them. Would they defend him if the clan decided to get rid of them all? His glassy gaze fell to Tidesong, Dawnstorm, Dewcloud... wondering if they felt the same fear and worry he did now.

 

[FERNGILL]

Ferngill didn't think he'd ever seen Lichentail so incensed. Usually they were a cat he trusted to be a soft, friendly face- not that they were a pushover, just that he'd expect such a snarl to match everyone elses, to be turned upon enemies. Well, in a way... it was turned toward enemies. Clanmates-turned-fugitives, yet again- Sasha and Deacon, their Clan names trod into the dirt along with the respect he once had for them, as fellow warriors of RiverClan. Ferngill sighed, defeated.

What was it that turned cats sour, here? He'd thought the Ripple Colony cats had wanted to join, just as Hyacinthbreath had wanted to join. But... they turned away, again. They sought life elsewhere, even though everything they could ever want was here. The price RiverClan asked was never unreasonable. They didn't kick out the unable, they didn't cast away outsiders... with the heart of a Riverclanner, anyone could thrive. Ferngill earnestly, honestly believed it.

Sighing, he simply gave a curteous nod to Lichentail's instruction, a storm of conflict in his healthy eye. It would not be nice to turn against cats he had eaten alongside, hunted alongised, laughed with. But for raising theyr claws against Smokestar- for murdering them, he would brave that which was not nice. What they had done was murder, was evil plain and simple. For all the joy he found in the world, Ferngill did not take evil lightly.​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[DAWNSTORM]

die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

His heart felt hollow, unwelcoming-ly bitter beating inside his chest as he followed Smokestar’s ichor-splattered form, refusing to stare at the bloody wound that once burst with rivets of lifeblood staining the ground. He had lost his home, and now he trekked through the snow with Dewcloud alone and without … without them.

His cheeks felt disgusting, crusted with tears that dried during their silent trek to camp, a place that could be their deathbed, and maybe Dawnstorm could plead for their safety, words foreign on a dry tongue and mind clouded with emotions that made his limbs nearly give out beneath his bulky frame. He was tired. Things that didn’t have to go wrong did and Dawnstorm wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Deacon had killed Smokestar. Sasha had tried to save him. What did he do? Push them away. His heart gave a painful squeeze, thoughts fleeting and emotions permanent. He wanted to feel numb, to ignore the rapidly intensifying throb of his helm that made his vision sway.

He dared not look at Lichentail, knowing fury would be plastered on a hardening face, carrying Smokestar’s wilting frame through the snow. He couldn’t look at either but the crusted ichor with a queasy stomach, something common now looked wrong on another.

Stepping into camp, Dawnstorm listened with a pounding heart, choking back emotions with a harsh swallow, unexplainable grief swallowing him whole; the words killed on sight made him stiffen. He understood. He did. But they were his friends, the first ones he ever made, and now … now Dawnstorm only had Dewcloud and Frondfeather left. Would they leave too? Was he at fault? His mother had cursed the day he was born, spewing ill-bitten words to newborn ears.

If he had moved faster—Dawnstorm sighed, breath shuddering tight in his chest. It wouldn’t have mattered. He knew that. To kill another—He wasn’t sure he could do that to someone who knew his name, who he knew, unfamiliar or not, and Deacon … Deacon lashed out. He killed. He had done it to protest Sasha, but Smokestar had not raised a claw and Lichentail had pleaded. I’m sorry.

It would never be enough.

Would they die? Is this it? Dawnstorm blinked languidly, staring at Iciclefang and Beepaw with indifferent hues, harsh words wedging themselves into his fur. The bi-colored tom moved forward, shielding Dewcloud from view with his bulky frame. If things fell, then he would buy the other time, because that was the only thing he could do. “Stay close, Dewcloud.” He whispered.

He would take seething claws and rage-bitten teeth in silence because they had done this. He had done this. If he had done something before Smokestar brought them to the border, but what if it hadn’t changed? Was this all meant to happen?

If things went wrong, then Dawnstorm would plead with them to keep their youngest, to keep Wavepaw and Dewcloud. He would go. He would die if it came to it. Just keep them safe. Don’t take them away because of someone else’s actions.

Bi-colored hues flickered to Wavepaw, so young when they joined, now terrified, pressed against Willowroot who stood up for them, Pikesplash too. “I—” He paused, frowning. “Please don’t hurt them.” He whispered brokenly, referring to Dewcloud and Frondfeather, Wavepaw. He could feel his father’s disappointment glaring holes against his side for acting weak—for pleading—and he dared not meet his father’s burning gaze. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

—————————————————————⊰★⊱————————————————————
His first death has been almost peaceful really. He had slipped into a heavy slumber and awoke stiff and disoriented with only the faintest sensation of what had happened. He remembers how cold it was, how cold inside he was, but his desire to hurry back to his clan and that urgency drowned out every other sensation. It wasn't until much later did he realize he died, it was like hearing of a distant acquaintance passing, he felt strangely detached from the entire ordeal. He'd not even remembered going to StarClan but given the circumstances and how he'd died moments after getting those lives, maybe he had and not realized. Maybe he'd died in the middle of the ceremony, it was hard to tell.

This death, however, he felt.


The dark tom convulses, seized with the immediate horror of being back in his still wounded body and suddenly vulnerable. He does not rise gracefully or with any decorum, he spasms, bristling as he coughs bloody spittle and stumbles upward to stand. Every hair on his body is alight and prickling, his lone sunset gaze is wide as it darts from cat to cat. Smokestar understands now, more assuredly than before, how madness can sink in its claws. A rising bout of paranoia strikes him in the heart, slices deeply into his very core. How can he trust them-how can he trust any of them?
His mind screams, defends itself and demands he cast them all out now, throw every last outsider from his clan, but inside he knows he can't…
Any cat can have bad blood, clanborn or not, he still feels Cicadastar’s copper taste on his teeth, his breathing is ragged. He understands now, he understands, he hates this knowledge given, this terrible sharp truth of things. He likes to imagine he has a stronger will than that, but so had his mate and he'd crumbled so swiftly. Fire eye dances across the cats, scanning each at accusations and partial words muffled in his still throbbing head.
"...they're gone?" It's a question that tinges with the faintest touch of worry, it gnaws at him. He assumes by the wary looks and the remaining former colony cats looking aghast that Lichentail has updated everyone and the duo are exiled.

✘ I've got a reputation and a name to uphold. ✘ Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Smokestar
  —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

​

 

[Moonbeam]

Get Ravensong, now.

It is the first thing that Moonpaw hears when she began to peek her head out of the medicine den, her home since becoming Ravensong's apprentice. She couldn't help the sound of her heart beating in her ears as she heard the command, it meant something bad happened and for all the training that she'd received thus far Moonpaw didn't know how she'd be able to handle something bad. Not something so bad to command clanmates to grab her mentor. And so head peeked out to look towards the commotion, to assess and understand and gather information and eyes land upon a black and white cat, limp and unmoving on the ground beside deputy.

Breath hitched as she ducked back inside to grab everything she knew, to grab what she hoped would be enough to help Smokestar while letting Ravensong know what she'd seen. Smokestar was dead and though she knew that he had lives - he'd gotten his name after all, come back home from the Moonstone with lives under his pelt - she did not know if it meant that everything would be healed, that StarClan would cause whatever ailed him to heal quickly and spontaneously and so she gathered and told and fled out from the medicine den into the cold of the camp.

She almost didn't hear Lichentail's announcement of exiled cats, but with her mind so focused on Smokestar she chooses to ignore it for now, her tail-tip flicking the only sign of the quiet feline's acknowledgement of the issue. They were exiled and she could deal with that later, the likelihood of herself running into them now less more than ever. She moved to Smokestar's side, eyes cast over him in slight horror as she froze for a moment, brain processing and flickering through herbs and injuries in front of her. "Smokestar?" Was the first word she spoke as she turned to look to Ravensong. "You should um... go to your nest or come with me to the medicine den? Please?" Could he even walk? Was she supposed to tell him what to do, or was she doing all this wrong?

I WISH PLANT LIFE ꕥ WOULD GROW ALL AROUND ME

• 

• MOONPAW formerly Ratpaw || NPC x NPC || sister to Rowanpaw || apprentice to Ravensong.
  -- She/Her || 8 moons old, ages every 17th
  -- smaller than average, small rounded ears. SH white masking cinnamon torbie with orange eyes.
  -- soft-spoken, often found humming, tries to comfort others by smiling

​

 

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

It shouldn't be surprising... but still her lack of social tact finds hot water bubbling within the camp near instantly. She thinks that she had been precise enough.. that it wouldn't leave room for many questions but sudden circling of two who had bothered to come back at all, the deputy grows more and more aware of her angry carelessness. Ears fold back in dismay for the words said haphazardly, for the harrowing glares sent in the direction of the innocent- Iciclefang has every right to her anger, Beepaw even more so. But it is misdirected... it does not score claws into their real enemies, that had managed to escape.

"You think I would've brought them back here if they were a threat," she challenges, unable to center herself amongst the rising tide of emotion that she inhales like noxious gas. Willowroot, thank stars, seems to understand this; rushes to the defense of Dawnstorm and Dewcloud without hesitation and soon, others of equally forgiving hearts rise in tandem to join her.

"Your anger is understood," she starts again with a voice barely prevented from wobbling, "But their names were not said; leave them alone." They didn't deserve to be labeled traitors after they'd tucked their tails neatly between their legs and promised fealty to Smokestar. Even if Dawnstorm had opted to protect his friends in the last second, he hadn't ripped his claws down her back, hadn't sunk his teeth into her neck when she would've been completely defenseless to fight off four of them. They'd been outnumbered... and of course they had. Who would've expected such an explosive reaction?

Pikesplash's insistence that they focus on Smokestar is enough to make her pelt bristle in frustration. Hadn't she already done that? What else could she do but charge up to StarClan herself to tell them to hurry the hell up? She whirls to glower at him, eyes narrowed, "What else is there you'd have of me Pikesplash? I've brought him home, I've asked for Ravensong. Do you want me to bind his wounds myself? Should I ask StarClan for a sign? It is them we are waiting on- don't dismiss me like I'm jumping ahead-"

A sputtering, hacking cough pries her away from the conflict, creeping back towards a wide-eyed medicine cat apprentice and a finally (finally) breathing leader. So much of his blood still lingered on her coat... it felt sickening that so much of it could spill without any real permanence. StarClan could be powerful... when they chose to be. His haggard question makes her stomach twist in knots- she wanted to say they were dead, that she'd struck them down easily and without hesitation. Only half of that were true though...

"They fled," she answers, holding his gaze with a furrowed brow that marks her frustration, her failure. "I've made it clear they aren't to keep their sorry hides on them if they're seen here again." The soft whimpering of a familiar kitten-voice is distracting, one that pulls her out of her fury long enough to search for her-

She stands there kneading the ground like it might summon something from the earth to protect her... or turn back time... Anything but what unfolds in front of her so casually. A first encounter with the grisly nature of what her family did to survive, why she was restrained to a sedge-littered den, who in the world was worth fearing. Everyone, a hollow voice suggested and Lichentail is quick to crush it. Smokestar was alive, at the very least, he would not suffer a hundred deaths to one set of claws like Cicadastar had under the hungry mouths of rogues. She glances at him once again, an apology written in rippling waters. I shouldn't have moved, she says again though her tongue does not articulate it. He knows.

He had suffered for it.

"I'll send out another patrol to make sure they didn't try to double back..."

---

WELL IF YOU WANT MY BLOOD I'LL MAKE SO MUCH BLOOD

THAT YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING DROWN​

​

​

 

[hazecloud]

The song and dance of playing pretend badgers and reminding her charges not to throw snow in each others eyes or where the babies slept had quickly turned at the sound of screeching echoes. It unnerved her, unable to tell if it was another bird ready to circle the skies and pluck her ducklings away or something worse. It was becoming more of a challenge to keep a steady eye on her newborns as well as wrangle the other three at the same time. Grabbing a spare warrior was beginning to grow scarcer than prey, now that Smokestars kin were eating solid prey it wasn't only herself as a concern in the nursery.

"Dewdrop, where are you going?" She had been able to rise from her nest to herd the little stragglers back before the cold got to their little noses. Hazecloud took a step closer to the lilac-wrapped kit when the scent of blood etched across her senses and red-strung form of Smokestar emerged. Carried on the back of her own mate and a few Colonists. They hadn't all returned, she quickly noted.

With Smokestar's still form dropped for the attention of their medicine cats, Hazecloud found herself still frozen in shock. Shellkit's wailing was distant at first until it finally pierces her attention. Goldenpaw is at the ready, coaxing the kit back to the nursery. "I-I'll be there soon. Goldenpaw, stay with them until I return." There was so much going on, she felt like she was being pulled in every direction. Her newborns huddled in their mossy nest, her other three needing her comfort. Her leader losing already a second life before her, her mate calling for the attention of their Clan.

Deacon and Sasha... Killed on sight...

How could they? How dare they? Hazecloud had enjoyed Cedarblaze's- Sasha's company. Found humor in her boisterous words, what had the molly been thinking that she had missed? And Deacon- Deacon as he so often refused to answer to his warrior name- she may not have trusted his behavior in the company of their youth but she could never imagine him capable of murder. Murdering him.

"She said nothing about the others." Hazecloud is quick to defend the two, looking past Iciclefang and trying to meet Dawnstorm's gaze. "They bared the same weight and blood from Smokestar that she has bringing him back. They're RiverClan." This could quickly turn the same way it had after Hyacinthbreath's exile. This could not unfold at an even greater scale, they couldn't afford it.

But Pikesplash, stammering like a fool about focusing on their king. Their king who's already fallen and simply waiting to return from their ancestors. The molly curled her lip at his disrespect.

"Focus on what for Smokestar, Pikesplash? Are you going to spit poultices on him now?" Her frustration with the tom is mirrored in Lichentail's tone and she left her mate to give him his verbal lashings. Ridiculous- had he learned nothing from Cicadastar, knowing the right time to suggest moving on.

Smokestar sputtered awake from his cold grip of death and she found herself cringing away. It looked violent, the way he rose from the dead. She wouldn't idle and argue any more than she saw necessary, now with the white speckled tom returned to the living he could continue or cut away whatever fight went on.

"Wavepaw, can you join me and Goldenpaw in the nursery? I'll need help calming the kits down after this." Hazecloud kindly beckoned the young tom to join her, fur lost from any bristling and muzzle free from tension. This madness was best kept out of her coat. ​

 

[EELPAW]

Lichentail's voice pulled her away from the conversation with some of the other apprentices, confusion dancing within her eyes as the deputy began her speech. The clan was angry, and she didn't understand why. Scanning the crowd, she would search for her mentor, and join him, hopeful that he would be able to explain things to her. "What's happening?" In a hushed tone, Eelpaw presses against her mentor's side, gazing up at him with worry. This was wrong. Although she was an apprentice now, she was too young to be involved in such matters. Lichentail and Smokestar had made no move to hide the impromptu "meeting" from any of the clan's members, however, she should still be protected within the walls of the nursery. How could she be expected to understand and be pulled into an execution order?

// mentor tag: @FOXTAIL
​

 

[Bounceheart]

✧ ✧ (=˃ᆺ˂=) Bounceheart had noticed the Ripple Colony members were absent from camp for some time now, but assumed they were out on patrol together. True, but not the rear-baring story she would soon find out.
In walks the remaining cats of said patrol. The deputy is cascaded with blood on her pallid fur while carrying the tattered body of Smokestar. Pieces come together in her mind, but she thinks something to do with the brutes that call themselves WindClan.

They did not find time to react before Lichentail climbed the meeting stones. Not one question fell from their gaping maw. They stared, wide-eyed, at the leader's slowly-resurrecting form while partial chaos unfolded. Thornmask and Cedarblaze to be killed, her words rattle their brain. Bounceheart is struggling to come to terms with the order their superiors placed on them.
To kill a friend?
Maybe she had not known either too well, but she had begun to take a liking to Cedarblaze - a sarcastic and dry personality, sharp around the edges but surprisingly a bit soft.

Their emotions on the matter would reach clarity soon. For now, she closes her mouth. It twists to a frown.

Smokestar's haggard body begins to rise and fall. Bounceheart is suddenly aware of the tightness of her throat, like someone had their claws wrapped around it. When he sputters blood, she gasps quietly.
Only when he speaks does she sigh. Tension released from her body, but not the mind.

'Deacon may, but Sasha?' She ponders.​

 

[claythorn]

A lot happened, very swiftly. and Claypaw kept track of each happening as it moved.

It was like slow motion, the way that it returned to her- the image of Lichentail dragging a bloody body back into camp, flanked by two allies. Mismatched warm eyes narrowed at the state of Smokestar's body. The stink of blood was nothing too terribly unfamiliar to Claypaw, judging by the scars that already littered her own face. And as Lichentail mounts the rocks, announces that they must put claw to former ally by order of the second hand, her ears flatten.

Claypaw hadn't been super closer with the other river colonists before they joined Riverclan, but she had found some identification with them in the face of adversity. Words rose, some quick to anger, others quick to defend. Her ears lowered, eyes squeezing shut briefly. She took pleasant time centering herself in the darkness that came from those two actions. When she lifted her head again, Lichentail and Hazecloud alike were vehenmently defending them, and Smokestar was standing once again.

While she felt sick, she couldn't focus on herself right now- no, she needed... Claypaw instantly stepped closer to Wavepaw, making a soft noise towards the younger and brushing her pelt against him. Claypaw had heard the noise from his mouth, and knew what the apprentice was feeling deep down. Mismatched eyes shifted towards those who had returned with Lichentail and Smokestar. A questioning look, but one full of resound strength. They'd get through this. They always did, right?

✧　°　.　♦　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
  "yuh"
• 
  
  a large, lh chocolate torbie towering, nine moons old, she/her. well-build and muscled. a drypaw. former river colony cat.

​

 

[Lilacbird]

everything seemed normal. it was going to be a fine day, she felt- well she forced herself to feel. for once, she wanted to take an inhale, and hold it. slowly, she would release the breath. it was going to be a good day.

and for the most part it was- until the familiar pelt of a mostly white deputy came through camp, the limp form of Smokestar on top of her, and two colonists helped with what they could bare. everything happened so quickly, the words ringing in the lilac torties ears, her exhale of a breath shuddering out of her as her ears were pinned backwards.

kill them on sight..? no hesitation? could- if she saw them- her cerulean gaze drifted to her paws, lifting one and extending the claws. she could, but did she... could she actually kill without hesitation? she had to- if she seen them.

her gaze turned from her paw which she set gently to the ground, to the bloody corpse of Smokestar, the turmoil of the situation causing words and everything else to blur together. other riverclanners were ready to turn on the rest of the ripple colony, others were defending them- and then Smokestar was finally waking up.

and she couldn't find herself doing anything but brace herself for what felt like another war.


​