camp THERE WILL COME A SOLDIER // taking back camp

[HOWLINGSTAR]

// This thread takes place directly after the RiverClan battle thread! A reminder to keep killing to a minimum; your OC is limited to killing ONE rogue throughout all battles, so if they've already killed one they cannot kill another. Apprentices cannot kill a rogue alone. GO CRAZY GO WILD!

She did not - could not - attend the battles within WindClan and RiverClan's camps. Her clan would not allow her to so soon after losing a life. But this...this she could not miss. Her clan and family has been driven out of their StarClan-given home and she will not stand idly by while warriors of every clan drives them out of her home.

With breaths still more haggard than they have been, she stands under the darkness of night at the top of the ravine. Far below, rogues mull about in ThunderClan's camp, silhouettes difficult to see but outline by the moonlight. The old she-cat's eyes narrow with determination. She turns then to face her companions, warriors and apprentices of all five clans united here as one. Many bear scratches and shallow wounds from battles fought prior; of course, any who had been too wounded were removed from the battle party to be treated. She lifts her tail, snowy chin held high as she bellows, "Our work is not finished! We are halfway done; two territories cleared, two left. Lend ThunderClan your strength now to rid our forest of these rogues. They do not live under StarClan, they do not follow the Warrior Code. They have no place in this forest! Uphold your vows to warriorhood now beneath our friends in the stars, and may your claws land true."

Her eyes are slits now, pride radiating off of her despite her weakened form. With a lash of her tail and a shrill battle cry, she descends down the ravine. She skirts the bramble barrier until she reaches the camp entrance, through which she leads her clanmates and more into the third battle of the night.​

 

[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

He had been one of the last--or perhaps just the last, to leave the camp after the rogues had taken it, and doing so had made his pelt prickle with a sense of shameful disgust. He had never fled from a fight before. He entered each with the knowledge that he would either succeed or die trying to, and this time he had neither won nor died. It had left his claws tingling for an unfinished fight, and they sank down into the dirt as he gazed into the ravine.

The words had barely left Howlingstar's mouth when Tybalt lunged forward and barreled down the slope through the camp entrance. He leapt at the first rogue he saw, who had barely had time to even turn around to see the attacking warriors flooding in behind them. Hissing, Tybalt sank his claws into the rogue's pelt as the other tried to shake him off. The rogue fell back, and Tybalt sprang back before he could get stuck beneath him, darting between his paws and whirling around to slash at his opponent's face.

 

[Rabbitnose]

Rabbitnose isn't one to be covered in the blood of his enemies, but tonight, he is stained in blood from the last two battles. Shallow cuts mark his body and his blood mixes with others, but he ignores the sting. These rogues deserve this, he thinks. This is justice. They have taken their homes and driven all the clans to the marsh, and while he is thankful for Shadowclan's hospitality, he is not fit for their territory and being able to return to the forest feels great on his feet. They'll finally be dry again!

But he's here to get his home back, as well as another reason.

He's here for one rogue specifically, the one who nearly took Sunfreckle from him.

As they burst into camp, he searches the rogues for his target. As chaos erupts around him, he sees them emerge from one of the dens to join the fray, and he feels his paws move forward as if driven by the sheer force of his hatred. He rushes forward and crashes into him, digging his claws into him and biting into his neck. They thrash, but only worsen their wounds as they pull against his claws. Rabbitnose was not going to let go. He dragged and dug his claws deeper into the rogue.

"You're going to regret hurting my mate like that." He hissed in his ear.

The rogue rolled and slammed him into the ground, freeing him of Rabbitnose's claws. He was quick to pin him and go for the throat, and Rabbitnose retaliated by digging his claws into the rogue's neck and digging in as hard as he could, eyes stone cold as his neck was gripped. It was over in seconds, Rabbitnose's victory signified by the blood trickling from his opponent's mouth as his claws dug and pressed deeper and deeper until Rabbitnose finally kicked out with hind legs to shove the rogue off.

Getting to his feet, he loomed over the rogue who choked on their own blood. Part of him told him to stop, that he doesn't need to kill this cat. But the other part told him that they deserved it. This cat endangered his family and nearly killed his mate. They drove Thunderclan from their home, probably helped drive the others out too. They are a threat.

And threats should be dealt with.

With a powerful swipe of his claws, he ended the rogue's life. Rabbitnose stands covered in blood, and it makes him feel filthy. Badgerstrike wouldn't have cared nor hesitated... But Rabbitnose was not as strong as her. He was the softer of the two. She revels in battle and wears her enemies blood with pride, where he feels filthy and sinful for taking another life.

But that was the world he lived in. This cat wanted to kill him, and Rabbitnose returned the favor.​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✦　　. 　 ˚　.   He had not thought to be back here so soon. Between the looming trees, ThunderClan's warriors race like wraiths. As silent as ShadowClan through the undergrowth he tramples through– it occurs to him again that he had greatly underestimated the forest clan. Even here, where they perch in wait, there is something about the gathered crowd that awes Sunstride. A warrior as he has always been, so too is he a WindClanner. A cat beneath Sootstar's command. How strange, to see someone else lead so closely. He knew of RiverClan and their cruel king. He had not known Howlingstar the way that one can only know another in war.

He looks at her in silence, his head faintly cocked, and waits for her command. It comes quickly. He cannot help but feel the same surge of pride– as if he is a clanmate in this moment. Not a warrior opposed to her. Not chasing violence between their paws, but bound together. Hunting together. They drive into the camp, worming through the bramble tunnel and into the place that had sheltered his mate and kits so few nights ago. He would be grateful for that always, even if he had not been able to see them during the time. This was returning a favor. Making good on a promise.

The burnished tom leaps at a rogue that barreled towards another warrior. His broad shoulder takes the bulk of the hit; though it staggers him, sends him reeling, he regains his footing with claws shoved to packed earth and does not fall. His teeth sink into a well-fed shoulder, and claws rake his in return– when another rogue pounces, he is overwhelmed.

𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕; 𝘚𝘜𝘕-𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌  ╱╱ 9.16.2023 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. feel free to intervene! he'll keep fighting but could definitely use some help.
• ✦　　. 　 ˚　.   FORMERLY SUNNVAR. HE - HIM - HIS OR THEY - THEM. DEPUTY OF WINDCLAN. 4 YEARS OLD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  —————————
  
  
  ——  a tall auburn tabby with thick fur and bright glacial eyes. sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond it, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of them. he radiates confidence and self-assured authority.
  
  

  ✦ NPC x NPC. DECEASED MOTHER, ESTRANGED FATHER. NO LITTERMATES. MATE TO WOLFSONG. FATHER TO BEARKIT, SINGEDKIT, RIVEKIT, SUNLITKIT, AND FEATHERKIT ——

• "speech"

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[Honeydapple]

Honeydapple loathed the turmoil of arguments, physical harm, and especially war. Her heart raced with every confrontation, her stomach twisted with every splash of blood, and her mind swirled with "what if" questions. Yet, despite her fear and reluctance, she knew that they had to defend their clan against the rogue invaders. It was a matter of protecting what she held dear, even if it meant facing the horrors of battle.

The Thunderclan she-cat steeled herself for the next wave as she came to a halt beside her clanmates. Listening intently as Howlingstar spoke with a fierce determination. The gravity of the situation filled her with newfound energy. Home was within reach, and it was time to fight for it. Honeydapple's soft gaze hardened as she braced herself for what was to come.

Stirring up a burst of energy, she barreled down the ravine, claws extended, and brows furrowed by fierce resolve. She knew fighting was the only way to protect her home, her clan, and the cats she loved. As Honeydapple pushed through the bramble and entered the fray, her blue eyes sang with fury.

In the chaos, she found herself face to face with a menacing grey rogue, a brute with a squashed face and scars to prove his cruelty. Honeydapple flexed under her coat as the stranger raced towards her. Spitting and yowling as the rogue barreled into her. With strenuous effort, she pushed back, and her claws left long marks in the dirt as the brute was forced off.

Hissing audibly as she jumped back from the larger cat. Her body bowing and fur spiking as the injured feline stood to all four paws. For just a moment her nerves sparked to life as the rogue towered over her hunched frame. Glaring with a vicious intent and staring straight through her pelt.

- - - -

Peeling back pink lips the Thunderclanner snarled visibly and shrunk down further. Bunching up every muscle in preparation to bound forward. Miffed, the hulking tomcat leaned down to snap at her but was caught off guard by a mouthful of sharp fur next. He gasped out a choked cry of surprise as Honeydapple shoved her paw into his maw. She then leaned her weight to the side and scored all five claws across his inner cheek.

Blood splattered the dirt and the Molly's chin. Tired eyes blown wide and pupils a shaken sliver of shock. Guilt quickly consumed her freezing the pointed feline in place. Giving the stunned rogue enough time to snatch and sink his fangs into her right paw.

Said damage elicited a pained shriek from the moggy's throat. Using her free paws she repeatedly scratched at the others face. Eventually, snagging the furious cats left eyelid. A matching scream tore from the rogues chest as he stumbled backward from the assault. Loosening his grip on her pads and giving Honeydapple time to pull it free.

Planting the injured paw down she ignored its pain and stood taller. Feeling the spikes of remorse lessening as the injured tomcat wailed curses. Just as Honeydapple felt enough courage to attempt another brawl and unsuspecting weight squashed her to the floor. Brown paws holding her in place and a nasty chuckle vibrating from above. Effectively, stunning her into silence as the air was forced from her lungs.

Pinned beneath a brown and white she-cat, Honeydapple struggled and squirmed, coat a wild mess. The first rogue eagerly took out his frustration by stomping her paws. Despite the repetitive sparks of pain she continued thrash about. Fur flying in every which way as she was crushed and hit. Panic set in rapidly and the warrior had no plans to let them kill her.

Leaning back her head the moggy called out. "HELP!" Honeydapple's upside down face looked desperately into the throng of tussling cats for aid. Tears burning and welling down her face in the opposite direction. Running past her head and dripping by her ears, staining the earth beneath them.

ooc; She is pinned beneath a rogue and being attacked by a secondary one. In need of rescuing!​

 

[Flycatcher]

Fatigue pricks at his bones. It has been an exhausting night but Flycatcher knows he cannot give up, he cannot relent. He bares a few fresh scratches and dirtied fur from previous, tired but keen to continue. Flycatcher is not sure how much longer he'll be able to fight but he knows for certain he has to be here for this. He has to help reclaim his home.

Flycatcher waits with the gathered crowd for Howlingstar to give her orders. She addressed the group saying that their work is not yet done and that ThunderClan will need their strength if they are to rid the forest of these rogues. With a shrill battle cry, she leads the assembled group of cats down the ravine, and skirts around the bramble barrier before they can enter camp. "For ThunderClan!" Flycatcher yowls, bursting through the camp entrance. He is quick to throw himself into battle, charging at a small rogue, and swiping and kicking out at her. She's a nimble creature however, and though Flycatcher would usually be able to handle such a cat with little issue, he finds himself grunting in pain as she catches some of the fresh cuts.

Flycatcher is grappling her when he hears Honeydapple's call for help. His eyes catch her body trapped between two rogues and he knows he cannot leave her there. He manages to break free of the rogue he was grappling with, kicking out with his hind legs suddenly and catching her in the jaw causing her to stumble. Using the surprise to his advantage, Flycatcher races away, breaking free from the rogue and hurrying to Honeydapple.

He knows he won't be able to help with both of them so focuses his efforts on the bulky tomcat stomping on her paws. Flycatcher would leap suddenly, paws outstretched in an effort to really hurt to rogue, as he would aim to knock him to the ground and pull him away.

/ helping @honeydapple !​

 

[ROEFLAME .]

ROEFLAME — I fell in love with the fire long ago.

Through battle-hungry eyes the cinnamon warrior had watched Windclan spring from their tunnels and take the rogues by surprise, seen the way Riverclan had ferociously drug them into a watery grave. While her claws had shed blood tonight, the tabby looked as determined as ever as she followed her leader into their own forest territory, slipping silently through withered undergrowth and over upturned roots, undoubtedly at home in her easy trek through the oak forest.
At Howlingstars rally, auburn ears only flatten. They had reclaimed two homes already, Roeflame had no doubt they could take back their own.
There is no hesitation in the small warriors step as she dives through the ravine on the heels of Howlingstar, her loved ones undoubtedly only pawsteps behind her.
The clan cats spill through and around the entrance, a mottled flood of bristling fur and battle cries.
Rogues are already awoken, springing out of the warriors and apprentice den alike, heads poking from their elders home and nursery.
Almost immediately, Roeflame’s eyes lock with another’s- ominously familiar.
The memory seems to click for both of them simultaneously, only the rogue before her is no longer stained crimson with her birth mother’s blood. This time the fear burns wildly in their eyes.
"You!" The growl is inescapable, and Roeflame is bolting towards them without skipping a beat.
She pounces, claws mercilessly sinking into ragged flesh as the warrior would aim to shove them down with a brutish force. Yet, she does not hold the same natural strength her other clanmates have, and the rogue only staggers, their lips only then peeling into a snarl.
Roeflame’s is much fiercer, her teeth shining in dim moonlight as she’d strike again, this time sinking two canines deep into the wobbly rogues shoulder, forepaw swinging with the tabbies full body weight behind it to wrestle them to the ground.
Their sloppy attacks batter against Roeflame, nicks swelling with vermillion, but the stubborn warriors claws are firmly sunken into their writhing shoulders.
There is no reason to stop her now, not when the rogues eyes spark with the same malice she had seen that day from beneath her. Roeflame had picked this fight, and it was now kill or be killed.
fangs plunge deep into her opponent’s throat, the flood of metallic tang making Roeflame want to gag, but she perseveres, not allowing the rogue any courtesy to their last words.
When Roeflame finally withdraws, the rogue is dead, and the tabby Thunderclanner spits their blood from her maw. Her vengeance taken, the deed done, she walks away. Eyes scanning the rippling crowd for Burnstorm, Mothpaw, and Toadpaw.
She has hardly taken another step before something much heavier barrels into her, knocking the warrior to the damp ground.
Still, she’d face her new opponent with the same ferocity as before, canines outstretched in a snarl even as she is pinned.

// feel free to intervene/ help her!! She’s pinned right now.
"speech"

tags​

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[TWITCHBOLT]

Despite impending doom that had creeping across his skeleton during strategising, Twitchbolt was beginning to feel a rousing passion he was sure would come to a head once they encroached SkyClan's borders. In WindClan's plain air he had struggled, but held his own, stinging only with minor stratches- in RiverClan, it had been a little easier, using a whirlwind of strikes to force opponents into the water where the Riverclanners could better deal with them. Now, in ThunderClan... he felt that much closer to home.

Though there was a lack of undergrowth, the trees were familiar- amber-splotched eyes narrowed in determination at Howlingstar's rousing speech. It was surely meant for her own Clan, mainly- but unwavering faith struck a chord no matter who you are. It helped that ThunderClan did not seem to hate SkyClan no matter what, of course...

Flesh split around him, blood-scent filling the air. He scampered across low branched, manoeuvring across trees better than he could the thicket beneath. A cinnamon tabby molly, and a bloodied body near her, caught his attention- Twitchbolt flinched as he saw another opponent barrel into her. Instantly, hough, he knew where he was needed. Taught to use unorthodox strikes, he burst from the leaves and attempted to seize the rogue's tail in his maw, hopefully pulling them off of Roeflame- or at least distracting them for a moment, puncturing flesh with a gnashing, defiant grip- so that they could face this one together.

\ helping @Roeflame . ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[ASHENFALL]

˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 Ashenpaw didn't know why he was here—besides a reluctant sense of obligation, at least. When Chilledstar called for every able cat to help with the clans driving out the rogues, Ashenpaw mulled over which excuse he could use to get out of going. Snakefoot, however, seemed prepared for his apprentice's reluctance, and immediately shut down any argument the boy put out. Even still, Ashenpaw couldn't say he was much of a hero during the raids on Windclan and Riverclan's squatters, and he was content with sticking toward the sidelines and occasionally escorting the injured toward safety. Thunderclan, however, was more difficult to navigate.

Ashenpaw slunk around in the shadows of his own clan with ease, but the thick, viney undergrowth of Thunderclan's territory made him dizzy. The sounds of fighting rang out all around him, and he would only realize that he was right in the thick of it when he collided head-on with one of the land-stealers. The she-cat was small enough that Ashenpaw didn't hesitate for long before lunging at her with shaky confidence, feinting to one side and then diving to catch her flank and underbelly with his claws. She hissed, and Ashenpaw smirked to himself at the feeling of blood—success—on his paws.

This small victory would be short-lived, however, as she leaped away from him and he felt a new set of teeth in his hind leg before he could scramble back up to his feet. This rogue had a friend. Ashenpaw swiped at the burly tom's face to wrench free his leg as panic bubbled up inside him, and his two assailants were about to descend upon him when a dark streak flashed beside him and barreled into the big rogue. "Stupid kid! Back up!" Snakefoot hissed at him as he launched himself into a vicious battle with the both of them, while the small apprentice could only get in a few weak swipes at the opponents. "I'm not-!" Ashenpaw choked out a protest, despite the situation.

I'm not stupid! He wanted to say—was going to say—before it happened. The lithe brown tabby lost his upper hand as the superiorly-strengthed rogue pinned him onto the ground, and Ashenpaw could only watch with wide, terror-stricken eyes as the tom went for the kill. It all happened so fast, fangs flashing and snarls filling the air, and then it stopped, Snakefoot's limbs going limp and blood pooling toward Ashenpaw's white-dipped paws. He was dead. Snakefoot was dead, and there was no one to blame but Ashenpaw.

Only one quaking breath would leave him before the rogues turned their attention back toward the blue torbie, and Ashenpaw would scramble to flee a beat too late, the feeling of claws digging into his sides stinging as he was dragged back out of the bramble bush he attempted to escape through. Terrified tears welled helplessly in mismatched eyes and claws scratched into leaf litter and soil as he tried to slip out of the cat's powerful grasp.

"GET OFF OF ME!! STOP, STOP, PLEASE!!" The apprentice's shrieking is shrill and panicked as he thrashes beneath the weight of the heavy feline on his back. He was going to die here, he thought, in the underbrush of a clan that was not his, beside a mentor that surely hated his guts but died for him—uselessly—anyways, and Ashenpaw screamed still, though he knew no one would care to save him.

FOLLOW THE TIDE ˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 WITH THE MONSTERS ON YOUR SHOULDER

• OOC: will be saved by @S A B L E T U F T !
• 
• 
  — ashenkit . ashenpaw
  — trans male. he/him. 6mo apprentice of shadowclan
  — gay ; single ; not looking
  — longhaired muted blue torbie with heterochromatic pale blue and amber eyes
  — smells like rainsoaked ferns and swamp milkweed
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — fullbody by tropics sticker by saturnid
  — penned by eezy
  — currently in an era of grief and anger, approach with caution. all ic opinions!

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[BURNSTORM]

"SPEECH"
All around him, blood is spilling. The floor is slick with it and out of the corner of his eye he occasionally sees a form laying lifeless on the ground, eyes staring up to the sky above. It sends a shiver down his spine, makes him feel as if he might retch up the contents of his stomach, but if he stopped fighting he would join them, he knows. So claws and teeth flash as he charges into the fray. Like many others, he does not come here with the intention to kill but if it is what he must do he has made peace with it. He would do anything if it meant them taking back their home. He had grown up here, had lived here his whole life, and to see it in such a state made his heart lurch with sadness and anger. His fury makes him practically blind as he rakes claws against skin, buries his teeth into the shoulder of a cat much smaller than himself. The rogue realizes she is no match for him and quickly makes the smart decision of fleeing before his next strike. He watches her go for only a moment, ensuring she has left the camp and was not racing off to find another, weaker, opponent.

Immediately his eyes search out pale fur, he scans the crowd for Roeflame but also for Falconpaw. His apprentice had been nowhere to be found in the first battle against these invaders and he can't help but wonder if he was fighting now. He was old enough that he should be among those calling out fierce battle cries and plunging head-first into the throes of the battle. It is what he would have been doing.

Finally, the mass of cats shifts just enough that he can see Roeflame through them. She is pinned under heavy paws and he cannot help the curse that flies out from his jaws. He is running then, shoving his way past opponents locked into battle. A scraggly brown and cream colored tom beats him, and he recognizes Twitchbolt from his time spent in SkyClan. The warrior grabs the rogue by the tail and attempts to pull him off but Burnstorm has another idea. He is already running, but he picks up speed. Large black paws pound against the earth as he barrels straight into the cat who is turning to attempt to swipe claws at Twitchbolt. They go flying in a mass of fur as the rogue writhes and sinks teeth into his shoulder. He digs claws into a back and they are struggling on the ground, each desperate to get one up on the other.

// helping @Roeflame . and @TWITCHBOLT looking for @FALCONPAW.

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[/box

 

[TOADHOP]

The shouts of battle call him forth again, and despite the fear-mingled anticipation rushing through him, Toadpaw is not tasked with an escape route this time.

But to save the forest, to save his home, and rid it of invaders. Rogues who do not care about the order of clan life, who do know hold the oak forest in the same regard as he does.

And though he is scared, he knows he's trained for this: knows, despite the fact his mentor denies it, ignores it, and pretends he's still merely a kit. Toadpaw knows he's ready to fight - to save his clan. It would all be for nothing, if he didn't fight now, alongside his clanmates.

The tom springs forward, barrelling into the oak-shaded battlefield with a shout, white-capped paws aiming to strike the nearest rogue with sharpened claws. He digs into their sides, a rough twist of his form following to drag the rogue to the ground - an effort that only goes so far, as his cerulean gaze dares to lift, to glance up at the battlefield around him, at a silvered face left snarling beneath her enemy.

"Roe!" he shouts, moving toward his struggling sister, toward the duo that tries to aid in her escape. Brown limbs weave through the battlefield, but his path is intercepted by another. His own snarl erupts at the rogue that blocks his way - that shields him from helping his sister - and he leaps, claws prepared to tear into skin, to push the rogue out of his way so that he can move forward.
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[Hazewish]

TRAVELER, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED (AND NOW YOU MUST GO) ⋆⁺₊⋆

Hazepaw’s strength is already flagging, the apprentice exhausted from the two battles that preceded; and with the river liberated they no longer have the fire born of wanting to protect their home from the rogues. But as the Thunderclan matriarch says, there are two territories left, and—

She sees Cicadastar’s prone body in her mind, all his lives shed for their survival. She wasn’t the most obedient of apprentices… but she wants him to be proud of her, wherever he is now.

(And she wants to show Thunderclan that Riverclan is the best. But that’s less virtuous.)

Howlingstar’s battlecry sends them scurrying through the forest, hot on the heels of larger, stronger warriors. Their silvery pelt is better suited to the starlit current of the river but their paws are steady on the unfamiliar ground; their eyes, used to tracking the minute details of unknown parts of their territory, do not struggle to pick out threats from the chaos of battle. Their fighting isn’t the best… But they’re not going to turn tail now. These rogues are going down.

(A glance over their shoulder — is Catfish watching? They want her to see— well. What’s a badger to a rogue, right?)

There: a rogue on the smaller side, lean and shifty-looking. She slides over the foliage carpeting the ground of the forest, turning sharply and throwing herself at the rogue with all her claws out. He flattens himself to the ground just in time and her swipe glances off his shoulder, leaving only a shallow scratch. The snarling rogue springs up and aims a blow of his own at her face; she throws herself to the side, smiling as he goes right past her. That smile freezes into an open-mouthed gasp of pain as the rogue, easily changing course, spins and sinks his teeth into her back leg.

Blood wells under the sharp pressure of his jaws and he wrenches his head back, sending Haze sprawling to the ground. That elicits a high-pitched yelp, almost more outrage than pain, and they try to get to their paws but he isn’t letting go; rolling on their back instead, Haze rabbit-kicks their one free leg into the face and neck of the rogue, trying to get him to let go.

// @Catfishpaw

[⋆]​

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[ROEFLAME .]

ROEFLAME — break the air to feel the fall.
Roeflame aims to bite down on a thing forepaw, but when her fangs collide together through empty air, the tabby warrior quickly realizes her mistake when she can feel teeth sinking deeply into her shoulder. She screeches, hind legs writhing as she tried to scramble herself free.
While blazing hues don’t catch the sight of Twitchbolts arrival, the rogue above her finally lets go of her in a frustrated yowl, his once sturdy stance staggering as he turns to face his second attacker. Roeflame sees her helper out of her peripheral, but knows there is no time for thanks.
Seeing her opportunity to truly escape from his grasp, her hind legs pull towards her underbelly once more, all but ready to forcefully push him off when suddenly Burnstorm appears out of seemingly thin air, knocking her opponent to the ground in a tangle of bristling fur and flying claws.
Roeflame rolls to her paws, nodding in thanks towards the vaguely familiar Skyclan warrior when her name is suddenly called, only barely heard above the caterwauls of battle.
Roe!
The cinnamon tabby whirls around, just in time to see her adoptive kin lunging at a rogue, teeth bared and claws aglow with moonlight.
Her mind is scrambling, forepaws torn between rushing to Burnstorm or aiding Toadpaw.
She can feel her wound spark with white-hot fire with every movement she makes, her shoulder icy hot with fresh vermillion, but she leaps towards Toadpaw anyways, trusting Twitchbolt to aid Burnstorm as she sinks her teeth into Toadpaws’s opponent, aiming for one of their hindlegs.
Again, and again, if she has to, relying on her uninjured limbs to keep Roeflame from stumbling.
When the rogue would have enough and scamper off, undoubtedly sustaining wounds from Roeflame and Toadpaw alike, the she-cat would be panting against her pain, eyes heavy on her sibling.
"We’re okay." Roeflame would reassure, looking over her shoulder to check on Burnstorm and Twitchbolt.
The rogues were already beginning to crack under the force of the forest cats, but there was still a battle to be won.

// interacting w/ @TOADPAW and indirectly @BURNSTORM ! & @TWITCHBOLT
Sustained a mild injury to the shoulder !
"speech"

tags​

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[LITTLEMOON]

it's not my fault i have my father's eyes .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Standing in unfamiliar territory yet again, Littlepaw barely heard Howlingstar who sounded underwater, muffled sounding within his ears. He blinked languidly, reaching to press a paw against his missing ear. Maybe that’s why.

Shaking his helm, Littlepaw tensed, surging forward at the shrill battle cry echoing off the trees, slipping through an unfamiliar entrance with a twisting heart. He wanted to go home. Biting his tongue, the black-and-white feline locked eyes with a wide-eyed rogue, he didn’t waste a second, lunging at the larger rogue with a shriek, biting and grappling with the other in a fury of malnourished limbs.

He was no match, weaker and smaller compared to most of his clanmates, but Littlepaw made up for it with his unwavering anger. The rogues took everything from them. They stole their prey. Left them weak. Maybe everyone that’s perished would be alive now with the help of full bellies, but it was a kitten dream and he couldn’t afford to hold on to those stupid dreams. He needed to get better. He wasn’t useless and Littlepaw was determined to show it.

Without his mentor during the invasion, the small apprentice had fought with bubbling fear and rising anger, ignoring the call for retreat until a RiverClanner took him away. He had cried then—silent tears of shame, until his mama and siblings came into view, stumbling in the marshes in search of safety.

He hated it. Littlepaw snagged his teeth on the rogue’s paw, wincing at the mind-numbing pain racking across his muzzle causing him to let go with a snap of his teeth, stumbling back. Not wasting a second, the SkyClan apprentice dashed forward, using his smaller frame to his advantage to latch weakened claws into the rogue’s shoulders. Wait—! His gaze widened, expression breaking its pained aloofness to one of panic, unsure of what he should do.

He didn’t have enough training—Littlepaw shrieked, head colliding with the ground as a wave of dizziness encompassed him. He whined, pain blossoming down his eye drawing a yelp, breath sputtering until he managed to pull away from the rogue with bared teeth.

It hurts. It hurts. He bit his tongue, muzzle wrinkling against the onslaught of white-hot agony, mind clouded and he didn’t know what to do. He breathed shakily, feeling his lungs constrict, maw parted to suck in the blood-tinged air and unfamiliar scents. Where—Littlepaw flinched, stumbling back with a pained sneer at the fake lunge, keeping a singular blue hue on the cackling rogue.

/ feel free to kill the rogue littlepaw is dealing with ^^​

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thought speech​

 

[DOGBITE]

✦ It was his third rush of adrenaline that night as they spilled into Thunderclan territory. The tumultuous chaos of the battle swirling around the bedraggled feline. As he broke through the turmoil and caught sight of his apprentice in distress, an unfamiliar and overwhelming fury ignited within. The grizzled warrior's face contorted into a venomous snarl, one blue eye glaring with a sickened rage. How dare you! Their sole focus was on the young cat he had taken under his wing, and the menacing rogue that loomed over him. With a surge of panicked energy, Dogbite lunged forward, channeling all his weight and anger into a shoulder blow to the rogue's chin. The impact seemed to jolt the other, clacking their teeth and briefly stopping them, allowing Dogbite to stand protectively in front of Littlepaw.

His warning was ice-laden as they yelled at the enemy. "Come any closer, and I'll gut you from tail to snout, you damned coward!" Spittle flew as they snapped and snarled, feeling nothing but an intense desire to defend. The rogue had dared to harm his young charge, and Dogbite's wrath knew no bounds. He was ready to finish it and take out this mean mug of a tom. Simmering his tumultuous feelings, Dogbite stared down the invader, a burning hatred seething within, their single eye narrowing from disdain. I'll kill you I swear it... They were willing to do whatever it took to ensure Littlepaw's safety.

Amid the violent encounter, the rogue's bloodied laughter chilled Dogbite to his core. The attacker had bitten their tongue, creating a grotesque chortle punctuating the scene eerily. Facing such a sinister looking enemy posed a serious threat, and Dogbite's heart raced as they assessed their options. He had to make a decision, and quickly. In a moment of inattention, the rogue managed get close, momentarily distracting the Skyclanner. The relentless tom capitalized on this opportunity, slicing a gash across the scarred warrior's nose. In a desperate attempt, they headbutted the rogue, stunning them temporarily.

With adrenaline surging, Dogbite found an opening and delivered a slap to the rogue's already damaged jaw. The enemy's pained cry filled the space, and a peculiar burn of satisfaction washed over Dogbite, even if only for a fleeting moment. Determined and resolute, the ex-loner shoved his side into the rogue, causing them to lose balance and fall to their back. They pushed their paw down on the rogue's throat, offering a hushed ultimatum. "Give up here or die." The attacker's futile attempts at resistance convinced Dogbite to deliver the final, swift blow. Closing his eyes tightly he braces himself for the moment of truth. Broken fangs sunk down on the rogue's throat, and soon the foe's struggle had ceased.

Standing over the fallen outsider, a sense of emptiness overtook him. This had been the first time he had taken another cat's life, and the weight of their actions left them in a state of shock. Vivid, harrowing images of the struggle played through his mind, and they felt a profound remorse that seemed to drown out the world around him. With a heavy heart and pained remorse, Dogbite robotically turned away from the lifeless corpse, unable to bear witnessing their final moments. His primary concern shifted back to his injured apprentice, Littlepaw. He couldn't shake the guilt of not being there when his young charge needed him most. Even when only a few fox lengths away.

Swallowing hard, Dogbite aimed to press himself closer to the small tom, offering support and comfort. "I'm here." He had done what he had to do to protect their apprentice, but the experience already left a heavy weight on their heart. Hurriedly, he asked the startled youth with a pained and concerned tone. "Are you okay? Do you need me to get you to safety?" He would talk details later for now the welfare of his student was top priority. Not the still frame of his grim decision in the background.

•°.⋆ INFO

• ooc ; defended @LITTLEPAW! and killed the rogue who attacked him!
• 
  
  
  
  ✧ 29 moons old
  ✧ skyclan warrior
  ✧ he/they ; single
  ✧ child of npc x npc
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric

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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

He has seen the ferocity in Howlingstar’s eyes before, and now—cleared of yellowcough and filled with determination and moonlight—he feels vindicated, prepared. He stands alongside cats of all Clans, his claws unsheathed and his teeth bared, preparing to take back the home they’d lost. He streaks forward, claws sinking into the soil and propelling him through the gorse tunnel. The rogues are taken unawares—there are shrieks of fury and surprise as the five Clans of the forest descend upon them with victory howls shearing the night.

The first cat to accost him is rough-looking, bald at the joints and wiry, but his amber eyes are like fire as he launches himself into Raccoonstripe’s chest. He staggers, but holds his ground, claws anchoring him to the earth so that he can stay upright. “Foxdung,” he hisses, swiping the other tom over one ear and feeling the velvet-like flesh part easily. “Get out of here before I do worse!” The rogue crouches, pain clouding his eyes. He must determine worse injury is not worth holding onto a camp that is falling apart—he turns and flees, blood spattering the earth beneath his paws.

He hears a fit of snarling behind him, and as he turns, he sees the WindClan deputy, Sunstride, overwhelmed. The rogue who pins him earns a brutal snap to the shoulder, but a she-cat with dappled black and white fur takes the opportunity to pounce. Raccoonstripe’s hiss is like steam falling on burning ash. “Get back!” He barrels into the second rogue, and the two of them go rolling. She’s the better-fed and the more agile of the two, and she gets a few good kicks to his lower belly—but Raccoonstripe holds on, his grip on her shoulders sinking near to the bone.

“Get off of me,” she shrieks, and he can hear her, somewhere, but it gets lost in the chaos in his mind. In his mind—there’s fur flying, and blood soaking the battleground spread between four massive oaks, and in his mind the she-cat beneath him has a kit whom he’s just broken the neck of, and suddenly it’s her blood in his mouth—

An uppercut to the jaw causes him to snarl. He jerks his head upward, and scarlet drips onto the she-cat’s white chest. There’s true fear scent coming off of her now like a stinking cloud—like smoke—but he doesn’t relent, he holds her tight, and then his teeth are at her throat, and she goes limp. It’s over.

Metal, wet and hot and thick, sits on his tongue. He spits, and spits, and spits again, but no matter how many times he does it, he can’t get the sick film off of the surface of his tongue. His limbs shake. He sees the broken body of a cat he’d laid to waste, and suddenly his head feels cloudy, black.

What have I done. Like he did back then, he spits, and he does it until his saliva runs clear again—but it changes nothing. She’s still dead under his claws, and he does not move away from her body.

[ tl;dr helped @SUNSTRIDE , killed the rogue ganging up on him ]

, ”​

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[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — The tuxedo felt swallowed up by the battlefield as it lay before him. The mingled scent of all five Clans were quickly overtaken by the scent of blood as claws struck against flesh and teeth clamped down through fur. Sabletuft would have liked for Swanpaw to have joined beside him, to be well enough to show the skills bestowed by the former lead. Instead his pale shadow was still curled in the medicine den, fighting to survive so he wouldn't end up like his mother.

A heavy exhale huffed through his nose as he weaved around the thrashing bodies, rogue pinning down Clan cats and vice versa. It was difficult to imagine how far their training would be now if he hadn't gotten sick. How he would be able to prove himself capable as the Deputy's kin. But there would be another time for it, he knew. After they returned everyone to their homes leafbare would return again and they would certainly be back at each others throats.

A piercing shrill tore him away from his standoff with another rogue and he saw Ashenpaw struggle beneath the weight of an enemy, Snakefoot's lifeless form beside him. Sabletuft jerked away to slash claws across the face of the offended rogue, blinding them for enough time to grasp its scruff and drag it off of the apprentice.

"Get up!" He shouted hurriedly to Ashenpaw, flexing his claws as phantom blood filled his mouth. "Keep your claws out and don't keep your backside unguarded." He looked to the rogue he had thrown down, wavering to rise from the wounds Sabletuft had inflicted. He lowered his head to mutter instruction.

"Sneak underneath the legs and go for the belly, I'll keep him down for you." The black-and-white warrior shot forward to slam a paw into the rogue's neck while it was still unsteady, keeping it forced against the ground. He pressed his claws forward, through fur and skin against hissing protests. "Make this filth pay, Ashenpaw. For Snakefoot." — tags​