they're gonna propogate the killer .. regroup

[S A B L E T U F T]

⋆⍋ White mitted paws score across the mud as bodies flee from the clearing. Sabletuft's chest puffs with deep, panicked breaths. The growls and chuffs from the beasts behind them were still a risk of coming closer. Chilledstar had, what strongly appeared, lost one of their lives to the heavy clawed paws of the beasts. Their camp was about to be a scratching post for those things, and he flinched when he heard the crack of branches from behind them- sounded like the elders' den.

Think, think! Where would they go? The marsh was too exposed if there were any more of them around. They might as well throw themselves back into the mouths of those things if they try carrionplace. What would be enough…

Sabletuft lifts his head like a light flickered on. It'll have to work. As amber eyes scan over the crowd of warriors, he feels a surge of courage. "ShadowClan!" His voice suddenly raises, demanding the attention of his Clan. "Head to the Thunderpath tunnel, we need to get everyone to safety. If you see a kit, pick them up. An elder behind, stick with them. We stay together so we're stronger together. Now let's go!"


​

 

[smogstar]

Discomfort clings to him like the gooey muck of the terrain, slowing his every step, eroding away at his composure with each squelching stride. The echoes of WindClan's attack resound through the entirety of his system as he staggers onward, teeth grit and features caught in a wince that reveals the weight of his pain. Outlines of his clanmates jut out from the swampy landscape just off yonder, but their presence hardly alleviates what he's feeling at the moment. "Our destination looms ahead," he would remark in a cold drawl towards @SHARPPAW., along with the rest of the wounded in his company, "but don't hold your breath."

Their hurried pace outmatches that of the swathe of cats before them, and in the blink of a shadow, they would be upon their companions. Weary from the relentless pursuit and battered by previous injuries, the deputy stumbles forward, his gasps coalescing with the strained atmosphere. His amber stare forthwith latches onto the newly-appointed Lead Warrior. "Sabletuft," Smogmaw croaks through a heavy exhale, "congratulations."

The other tom did well in taking charge and heralding the displaced from their home. Noting that their leader was inexplicably absent from their midst, the deputy's voice takes on an undertone of authority as he continues. "What has happened to Chilledstar? What is going on?" Also missing are the silhouettes of his mate and their offspring, though he surmises they must be nestled somewhere amongst the throng of cats. ​

 

[mossblood]

i'm always the outcast, i'll take the blame
▵the first night you met me, you forgot my name▵​

---

Mossblood ran fast after his clanmates to flee the invaded camp. He heard Sabletuft order everyone to the Thunderpath tunnels and followed suit. He had no kits, apprentices, or elders tagging along with him that might slow his paws. Hopefully that wasn’t too shameful. He found himself catching up with the new lead warrior and deputy. His green eyes were still wide in panic from the recently witnessed events. He heard Smogmaw’s question and while not directed to him, he spoke up. He had been one of many who had seen it happen. ”Eh, Chilledstar.. was hit. By that monster..huh,” the tom huffed in his mildly winded state. He was unable to and didn’t want to declare that the leader had lost life.

He glanced around slowly to see who else had made it. They’d have to do a head count soon. Surely everyone got out. When he fled, he was confident everyone would get out of camp.

Spoiler: ◣ TAGS ◥

◸ general info ▵ appearance ▵ persona ▵ relationships ▵ interaction ▵ background ◹

• 
  name ▹ mossblood
  

  ↳ named prefix "moss" for his dull brown-grey fur. given the suffix "blood" for connection with his clan and his variable intensity.​

  gender ▹ male - he/him
  age ▹ 12 moons
  

  ↳ ages real time on the 1st of every month ​

  sexuality ▹ bisexual
  
  clan ▹ shadowclan
  rank ▹ warrior
  
  created on ▹ june 1st 2023
  toyhou.se ▹ link!
  penned by ▹ @starsheep
  ​
• 
  short description ▹ a dull brown-grey spotted tabby tom with a cream underbelly and bloodshot green eyes; his medium length fur is unkempt and wild
  
  physique ▹ he stands shorter and is smaller than an average tomcat with a lithe and skinny body
  notable features ▹ his green eyes are often noticeably bloodshot; his fur is known to be unkempt and somewhat unhygienic and poorly groomed
  eye details ▹ his eyes are a cool green color and shaded by detailed effeminate lashes
  
  scent ▹ has a distinct musty scent; cool, mildewy, stale and damp
  voice ▹ has a short and informal manner of speaking paired with a flat tone; his voice is an unemotional tenor
  
  demeanor ▹ he carries himself on dainty and oddly graceful paws; he has an ability to blend into the background when he wants to; he usually has a soft but vain grin on his maw but his his eyes hold a kind of tiredness within them
  
  ​
• 
  personality traits ▹ a tad superiority complex / selfish / skeptical of starclan / rational / spontaneous / unhygienic / unpredictable / relaxed / unambitious / crafty / nihilistic / sometimes tactless / flexible
  
  alignment ▹ neutral evil
  mbti type ▹ ISTP-A, 'the virtuoso'
  hogwarts house ▹ slytherin
  
  likes ▹ living in the present, swamps and water, cricket sounds, recognition, novelty, fishing, comedy
  dislikes ▹ long-term commitments, being rushed or pressured, ghosts, hard deadlines, boredom, large open spaces, visiting the medicine cat
  
  ​
• 
  generation ▹ gen 1
  status ▹ single / crushing on no-one
  
  partner(s)/mate ▹ n/a
  parents ▹ elmstripe (npc) x minktail (npc)
  siblings ▹ briaroath (npc), owlhowl (npc)
  offspring ▹ n/a
  
  mentor ▹ dustburn (npc)
  apprentice(s) ▹ none
  
  friends ▹ none; open to friendships!
  enemies▹ none; open to enemies!
  
  relations notes ▹ WIP for now until more relationships are formed~
  
  
  
  ​
• 
  interaction notes ▹ get along well with most cats and can form many acquaintances however it can be difficult to become a close regular friend of his given his complicated nature / he is often looking for other to participate in activities with / he is loyal to shadowclan and his clanmates but will look after himself first / tends to be perceived as cowardly in physical altercations and he can be passive even in tense situations / will flee fights if the outcome is disputable / he holds few strong convictions and so his enemies are not usually plentiful but it is not difficult to find his faults / he has an uncommon type of charm with his relaxed, open, and spontaneous attitude / powerplay of peaceful and non-violent actions allowed / all character posts & opinions are IC and not OOC
  
  adept at ▹ good swimmer - he has practiced traversing the thick swamp waters, skilled stalker and good at going unnoticed if he wants to, navigating and seeing at night, remaining calm under pressure or in crisis, speaking his mind, he tends to be easy to get along with
  inept at ▹ he has a wavering will and low endurance, he has a dislike for speaking in front of large crowds, he struggles with reading others' emotions and delicate situations
  
  stats ▹
  

  strength ◆◇◇◇​

  stamina ◆◇◇◇◇​

  speed ◆◆◆◆◇​

  charisma ◆◆◆◇◇​

  intellect ◆◆◆◆◇​

  
  

  hunting ◆◆◆◆◇​

  swimming ◆◆◆◆◇​

  climbing ◆◆◇◇◇​

  fighting ◆◆◇◇◇​

  
  ​
• 
  kithood ▹ mosskit was part of the first generation of kittens to be born under the newly established shadowclan. he grew up in the forest shaded swamplands as his only home. his childhood took place within a turbulent time and under briarstar's and pitchstar's reigns. he had two siblings, owlkit (npc) and briarkit (npc), that he was raised alongside with by his parents elmstripe (npc) and minktail (npc).
  apprenticeship ▹ At four months of age, mosskit became mosspaw. he was trained and disciplined by the clan collectively until the age of eight months when he was formally assigned his mentor, dustburn (npc). he often tried to sneak away from dustburn's training and meetings with him but despite rough and unproductive patches he managed to graduate to a full-fledged warrior. he was now known as mossblood.
  12 moons - current ▹ at current, mossblood is a new and inexperienced warrior of shadowclan. he is serving under the new leadership of chilledstar and trying to deal with the new responsibilities that come with his warrior name.
  ​

​

 

[Needledrift]

Pain weaved it's way in between Needledrift's ribs as she slowed to a halt. Pain. It was all she felt - from her jaw to her chest to her heart. Pain because she knew the blow that Chilledstar took was hers. Pain because her leader died for her. She knew - distantly - that StarClan gave leaders nine lives to protect their clan with but to be the cause of even one lost made the she-cat want to vomit.

She placed @Emberkit down gingerly and stumbled back onto her butt, one delicate paw rising to her face to inspect her aching mouth. Her jaw was now affixed into a permanently open position, maw left ajar and her tongue losing out. She expiramented with trying to open and close her mouth. Her body barely responded, an invisible force holding her teeth apart. She would worry about it later. For the moment, she could look anybody in the eye.

She had killed their leader.​

she smells like lemongrass and sleep​

 

[STUMPYSPOTS]

STUMPYSPOTS ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♡ ♡​

Relieved to be regrouped with what seems to be the majority of ShadowClan, she keeps @crowkit. and @lambkit close. Stumpyspots wasn't sure where Addercoil was, the queen that kept watch over Lambkit, she hopes the she-cat and her litter had made it out safe... Until then she hardly minds keeping watch over the kits, though old she had a strong maternal drive hibernating within her. Keeping eye on these two gave her a sense of worth and value amongst ShadowClan. Looking for the other queen, Halfshade, she fails to find her tri-colored pelt... nor any of her four kittens. Worry pricks at the back of her mind, "Has anyone seen Halfshade?" Despite it being a general question her gaze cannot help but fixate on her mate and Sabletuft. Had Smogmaw seen her? Had Sabletuft since the nursery? If they had managed to get away safely, shouldn't they all be here? Anyone who matched her gaze was suddenly flashed a look to discuss if they wished, but to keep her out of it. She needed to provide a distraction to the kits. With the talk of the bear and Chilledstar she can't imagine they're at the most peaceful state of mind... Looking down at them as she pads a grin rises onto her face. "Well hey, look ya two! We're out of camp, isn't that somethin'? Don't happen every day for you kits."

 

[Crowkit.]

The pitch black kit kept close to Stumpyspots and Lambkit, brushing fur with the calico occasionally. He'd never done that before. Mismatch orbs flit to Lambkit, wondering about her thoughts. Crowkit didn't even know his own thoughts on what just happened. His mind had slowed some since they had put some distance between them and camp, but uncharacteristic anxiety probed him. The feathery tomkit found himself preoccupied wondering where the rest of their denmates were. He had seen Halfshade and her kits for only a moment. Stumpyspots' nasally voice brought Crowkit out of his head and back to their walk. It was true, he supposed. Eyes surveyed the surroundings sharply, and it was a bit different, the pine trees were thicker here. "I guess so," He caws through the cobalt wrapper in his mouth, "But when will we go back?" His plumed ears swivel back and pin to his head as he speaks. "Those were swamp monsters huh?" An unusually serious tone of conviction drip from his words.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ OOC VISUAL INFO ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚𓅪

• ooc: —

• shiny, feathery pitch black fur with one silvery green eye and one nearly black one. eyes have an unsettling gleam to them. looks terribly suspicious in his body language and facial expressions.

• crowkit named at the Carrionplace for stealing tendencies and ability to eat almost anything; and for his black and shiny pelt
  
  —— he / him; 3 moons, kit of shadowclan
  
  —— prone to thievery and gluttony, he's building a stockpile of trinkets
  
  —— current inventory + location
  
  - 1 blue twoleg wrapper
  
  - in his nest in the nursery

• "speech"

​

 

[lambkit]

Lambkit clings close to Stumpyspots, so close that their lanky frame nearly trips over the stubby warrior's solid and dependably there white paws. The oft-unreadable kit trembles with fear; the visceral brand of terror her short glimpse of the ... things ... had afforded her was so brutally scary, for lack of a better word, it seems to have shaken the kit's normally solid foundation. Addercoil had vanished from their side, quick as a rabbit into a magician's hat, and Lambkit had no hope of finding her in this relative ocean of cats, at least for a bit; and so the tricolor kit clings uncharacteristically close to Stumpyspots, gaze wide and jittery with alarm. Would those hulking forms once again blot out the sky over her tiny form, their beastly cries once again seem to shake the very earth? Lambkit shivers.

She glances up at Stumpyspots as she speaks and then at her companion in this frightening trek. Lambkit's mew shakes slightly as do her nervous paws, eyeing the wrapper nestled snugly in Crowkit's teeth, "Yes, when are we going to go back to camp? All of my treasure's there in my nest," their strangely adult syntax continues, rising in pitch as a terrible realization occurs, "What if the swamp monsters take my treasure? What if they eat it?"
​

 

[Magpiepaw]

He had been outside the camp during the mayhem, perhaps that was fortunate. He was not swift enough to ellude claws the length of a cats entire forearm, he was not agile enough to dart around stomping limbs as thick as trees. Magpiepaw had lucked out by hearing the yowling and panic and only just arriving as the clan filtered out in panicked droves; a hindmive of swarming insects flocking outward to safety and he followed with jittering paws and a bouncing disoriented gait.
Blue-violet eyes honed in on Lambkit and Crowkit huddled by the flat-faced warrior, widening briefly in warmth that they were unharmed though he felt a flutter of unease to know several others were still lost; there was nothing he could do for those left wandering outside this temporary reprieve and so he weaved over to the two with a bobbing nod to Stumpyspots in greeting, his crooked tail held high.
"Harbingers." He murmurs thoughtfully, then more loudly with a paw raised to his maw in brief contemplation, "Living shadows sent to punish." That Chilledstar died was either an unfortunate accident or they were paying a penance for something, a life taken in response to an unwitnessed crime. Who was to say.
"We must stay out of their way until they are done their duties. Less we envoke their wrath."
​

 

[COMFREYPAW]

Her steps are shaky, and she feels as though her entire body could sink like liquid into the cracks in the earth. Her first occasion out of camp is not an excursion with her newly-assigned mentor, but a trauma-stricken foray out of their ravaged home. Comfreypaw’s chest aches, and her breathing is stilted and gasping even as she pads slowly beside @ROOSTERSTRUT . Sabletuft and Smogmaw are here, and Stumpyspots has two of the kits. Magpiepaw has made it out with them.

“What’s the Thunderpath tunnel?” Her voice is a fearful rasp. She scrubs against her cheeks with a paw, trembling. “Where’s… everyone else at?”

Smogmaw’s question causes Comfreypaw to shudder. Her eyes stare sightlessly at her deputy as though she’s never seen him in her life. She’s looking beyond him, the limp black shape of their leader crumpled and bloodied. Mossblood tells him Chilledstar was hit, and Comfreypaw confirms, “There was… a lot of blood… Chilledstar did not get back up.” A wordless tear slips from one eye, but her expression remains smooth with shock.
​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

† Sharppaw trails after her mentor, tail wringing its way through the mud. Her head is held low, eyelids nearly closed aside from the sliver that watches where she's going. It still stung. He wonders how he looks with his face ripped apart like this. (Not literally, not really. He can still feel his lips and his nose and the fur on his face. But it'd felt like his face had been ripped apart then. Sometimes it still did, now.) Her expression is downtrodden, as dead as her tail. Our destination looms ahead, Smogmaw's voice has him tilting his head, ear lifted toward his rumbling croak. –but don't hold your breath. Sharppaw takes it literally. He hums in dull acknowledgement.

They're with the rest of ShadowClan soon, and Sharppaw comes to a halt. He is hardly aware of the talking between his mentor and the newly - named lead warrior. It's all mud and nettles before her eyes. "What has happened to Chilledstar? Sharppaw lifts his head to look.

What was happening, even?

Chilledstar was hit, someone says. –by a monster. Sharppaw blinks. The statement brings a discomfort she could hardly remember. Too - similar. Too - uncanny. She'd been alive, when Briarstar had died.

A monster, she realizes. Beasts– not the smog - filled things that barrelled along the Thunderpath. One of those had stripped nine lives in an instant, but could a simple beast do the same? A simple beast is what she thinks it was, anyways. It was scary to imagine it as anything else. A lot of blood, a kitten– no, apprentice chirps. (Sharppaw thinks that's unfortunate. Unfortunate to see...) Sharppaw chews her lip. " They... " They can't stay dead, Sharppaw wants to say. But that would be a lie. She's been around to see more than one life go at once. ...And for that to happen twice. So she swallows her bile, and she breathes through her nose. " T-they won't stay dead. "

It's not like he cared, not really. But the thought of change right now is like dragging another pair of claws through her flesh.​

 

[Lynxjaw]

He trails through the sea of cats as they run, long limbs carrying him with ease through muck and mud with no complaints. Hia heart continues to pummel at his ribs, the sound of screaming sodfened by the roar on his ears as he races. Sabletuft mentions something of the Thunderpath tunnels and in the midst of chaos, he nods and follows his direction. The image of those beasts still lay fresh in his mind, gnashing teeth that could easily snap any one of them in half and claws larger than their heads. Never in his seasons had he seen a creature so large and dangerous. He finally comes to a close, steps faltering as he catches up with the rest of his clan with labored breaths. The air of calmness had left him for a brief moment, and in that moment—he showed nothing but fear. Flinging himself as a distraction may not have been the most intelligent idea he's had, but it was the only one he could seek out regarding the circumstances.
Molten eyes flit to and fro from the crowd, aiming to find where Frostbite and Spectermask were with Chilledstar's body in their grasp. Were they all okay? Did they make it out? His jaw sets, teeth clenching together hard as he struggles to find them. An ear flicks towards Smogmaw as he's trying to ask the same question towards the newly appointed lead warrior, and his gut twists in knots. All he remembers is Chilledstar's limp body, nothing but a corpse as they lay torn open and pouring crimson ichor upon the ground. "They're coming—" He starts, whiskers twitching uncomfortably. "Frostbite and Spectermask have them." He doesn't say much else, for soon they'd all see for themselves what became of their leader. The large tom only hopes she's woken up by now, one life less than before.


​

[ DESOLATION COMES UPON THE SKY ]​

 

[S A B L E T U F T]

⋆⍋ As the Clan begins to form more solidly together, Sabletuft started to feel more at ease. They were no use sprawled around the forest, easier to be picked off that way. His sights set to Smogmaw as the tabby appeared with his apprentice. "Quite the start to the new job." Came his dry response. He didn't appear wholly disappointed, though, he was ready to help lead ShadowClan to greatness.

The tuxedo nodded as Smogmaw's questioned was answered by a few others. "They're safe, now. One of those..." He paused to think of what to call those beasts. The way they grumbled and roared. Hunched over and clacking their jaws at them. It wasn't specific to the appearance of just one animal but many, to him. Like a mix of pig and a dog, he would think. "Swamp dogs." Yeah, that sounded sensible. "It caught them while... saving someone." His gaze briefly, pointedly looked to Needledrift before glancing away.

"Halfshade?" His attention is to Stumpyspots now, tail twitching as he looked to recall how they had split up after escaping. He escorted them until they got out, he knew she was outside for sure. "We might have gotten split up, but she's absolutely nowhere near the swamp dogs. I made sure of that for the both of you, and them." Sabletuft turned down to the collective of kittens as if suddenly remembering they were there.

"We'll go back soon. For now it's more important we go somewhere to keep you all safe." He reassured them, though his tone dull. Never really was good with talking to children... ​

 

[Frostbite]

What a day. Beasts in the camp, ravaging their home and forcing them to flee and even taking one of Chilledstars lives. He would have fought if not for Chilledstar, so in a way it was good they died..... If Frostbite valued himself that much, anyways. Even now he thought it should have been him.

Such thinking was useless right now. He and Spectremask had to get Chilledstar to safety. To the thunderpath tunnel. Nothing good happened there... But they had no choice.

"Just a little further..." He said to Spectremask and the temporary corpse on his back.

It wasn't long before the tunnel was in view, and Frostbite let out a sigh of relief.

((@CHILLEDSTAR. @spectermask we here ))​

 

[Dewfrost]

Dewfrost's paws ached from the running, but despite the panic she had felt fleeing her home, she was glad to finally be somewhere safe for the moment. Although the clan was safe for the moment, Dewfrost didn't like to linger too long on thoughts of where they were currently and what was happening back at camp. "Hideous beasts..." Dewfrost said, shaking her head when she pictured the bears. After a moment, she turned to face her mother Thistlefang. The older she-cat had made it here safely as well but was looking a bit worse for wear now that she had stopped. "Could someone help me find somewhere for my mother to rest when we get into the tunnels?" Dewfrost asked.​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

worry. anxiety. fear. they hate feeling all of these things, and yet they can only feel that. they watch in pure worry as cats run around frantically, the sound of their name from so many making then flinch with every syllable. it's chaos, and chilledstar wants to help. they have to help, but they can't. their body is limp, carried by friend and clanmate, and they can't understand why starclan hasn't sent them back yet. you can't do this to us, again, starclan! haven't we suffered enough! i have to go back, I'm not... I'm not ready to die! my clan needs me! emberkit and spectermask need me! my mate needs me! their stomach hurts. why can't they wake up? why had starclan kept them here? they paced back and forth, waiting and waiting, and when it is finally deemed safe enough, they're sent back.

it takes a moment for them to adjust. they don't understand how this is happening, but their paws twitch first and their lungs are slow to move. within a few breaths, the leader is gasping awake, frantically gripping at their neck, where a scar had been left behind yet again. blood begins to dry amongst their soaked fur, and they only look around frantically. where is everyone? where is–

"is everyone okay?"

they rasp out, more raspy than usual. they flinch at the sound of their voice. they don't even really recognize it, though it has not changed all that much. their body ached, and with a whimper, they stand up, stumbling to catch themselves, before they forced their paws to be as steady as they could. they looked around, feeling anxiety creep up once again. the thought of dying once more make them feel sick, but they hold back. they needed to make sure everyone was here, and accounted for.

"... is everyone accounted for? have we done a headcount? ...we are missing cats, aren't we?"

they know the answer. they don't know where these cats are, but they know they're not here. damn it! they curse internally. they felt dizzy, and disgustingly nauseous, but it mattered not. they needed to find the rest of their clan.
​

 

[spectermask]

He's still crying. There are tears that wet his cheeks, silent sobs that wrack his body in violent shudders, and he nearly misses it as he carries his best friend. A final resting place, maybe, and he nearly wretches at the thought. His whole body feels as if he's been submerged in ice and his mind is fuzzy, theres red covering his splashes of white, his face, his paws. He almost can't breathe over the the scent of death, over the dizzying tang that invades his senses. He wants to slump next to Chilledstar and let the days go on, months go on, let the moss grow over him and the flowers sprout from his back.

But... He doesn't. He won't, he never will, and he trudges on next to Frostbite. He doesn't even want to stop to peer at the others white fur, probably as splashed as he was. Death has never stopped him, but as they get Chilled to safety, off their backs, he thinks that this one will. Fresh tears, fresh pain, a heart tearing apart until he feels a burn in his chest. It hurts, it does, he's being ripped apart right in the wake of their death. He stares, for what feels like hours, days, years, at their body. Blood-soaked black fur, he's reminded of Briarstar, of Pitchstar. Lives ripped away viciously, all at once. He's a fool for thinking that the Stars would have mercy on his friend.

He shuts his eyes, quiet seething. Theres a gasp for air, a breath of life, and his senses go haywire. Awake? Are they awake? He looms over them, wide eyes trailed on them as if they couldn't be real. But they are, and they speak. Oh, they speak, and it is the loveliest sound. It is the most comforting thing he has heard, he will hear. It is a confirmation that the Stars have not forgotten about Shadowclan. "You're okay," his voice is strained, cut off with a shuddering sob. He will not break down here, he will not. But their voice, oh, their voice, he had been so afraid he wouldn't hear it ever again. They stand up on weakened paws, he keeps his distance. "You're awake. I thought you wouldn't open your eyes again." he speaks, tells himself, as if voicing thoughts not meant to be danced on his tongue.

Ever stubborn, their thoughts go to their clan, they ask about them. And Specter laughs, he laughs at the familiarity. They're okay, Stars above, he finds himself thanking them. Never the religious type, eyes soften in relief. "Sit. You need to rest." he speaks gently, trying to nudge them down. "Please." near begging, he looks around. Where is Geckoscreech? He's certain they'd want to see her, and where is his apprentice? Please, please tell me you made it out. He does not know what would happen if he lost Eerie. Specters tail twitches, he brings it closer to him, wrapping himself in a cocoon, safety. Things will be okay, we will be okay, you will be okay.​

"speech"​

 

[smogstar]

At the mention of her name from Stumpyspots' maw, a growing awareness of Halfshade's absence would come to gnaw at his chest and birth a knot in his throat. Brows would crease together as his regard sweeps over the expanse of displaced clanmates, foraging for a glimpse of her bicoloured pelt in a sea of frantic faces, but to no avail. She is gone, missing, whisked away into parts unknown, and it would seem his children are caught in the same circumstance. Smogmaw's usual air of callous indifference becomes betrayed by laboured breaths, swollen eyes, and a posture that no longer holds his steely confidence, with shoulders slumped beneath the weight of his unease.

He can only force his attention onto Sabletuft for the time being, diverting himself from the fears of uncertainty and dealing with matters he had more direct control over. Black-capped ears flit towards the Lead Warrior whilst he recounts the day's events, how 'swamp dogs' tore into camp and claimed one of Chilledstar's lives. "Bears," he'd proclaim in a languid manner, "that explains the sizeable load'a shit we found on patrol." At least it wasn't Heavybranch's doing like he'd initially surmised.

As for ShadowClan's leader, the deputy holds few apprehensions about their eventual return. Surely, what had happened to the clan's prior leaders (not to mention Emberstar) were simply flaws in StarClan's design. Surely, a bear-sanctioned mauling isn't enough to strip Chilledstar of their remaining lives. What an unpalatable outcome that would be.

Timely and impeccably, an unlit outline encroaches on the masses, bearing a discordant voice and a gait which spoke of their fatigue. He watches coldly as Spectermask receives them first, demanding their rest. They awoke when Briar and her son hadn't—despite sustaining comparable wounds. Nonetheless, the must-needed respite will be deferred for the moment, for the rest of the clan lacks a safe haven to lay their weary bodies and attend to their wounded souls.

"My mate and children aren't here," he croaks, drawing near Chilledstar's battered form. "Them, amongst others, must've gotten split up during the chaos." He swivels his head, in pursuit of his apprentice's argent stare. "The tunnels," states Smogmaw, "that's where we're headed. We'll have to recuperate there, and then plan our course of action." First, finding where the hell his family had gone, and ensuring that none of them had fallen to the invading creature's claws.​

 

[EERIENIGHT]

His presence is smaller than usual. A quiet further pulled into deafening silence by streaming tears and wide eyes, Eeriepaw lingers in the comfort of dwindling shadows. His paws move without his command, his gaze still scanning for black and white.

For Spectermask. For Chilledstar.

Finally, finally, he catches sight of them in the form of the ShadowClan leader being carried by his mentor, by Frostbite too.

And he holds his breath - was Chilledstar... gone? For good? Would he have to refer to Smogmaw as Smogstar now, adjust to another leader, so soon? The apprentice sticks to the shadows until he sees movement, until the leader takes their spot once more. They wouldn't be staying among the stars just yet.

Paws race over to reunite with Spectermask, the apprentice practically barrelling into the side of his mentor. "Specter!" he croaks out, more tears beginning to flow. Crying, more so than he thinks he ever has. An odd action, he thinks, for something he's happy towards. He has no more use for these tears, and yet, he still cries. Perhaps for good reason, though.

Spectermask is okay. Chilledstar is alive.

They'll be heading for the tunnels, Smogmaw declares. Away from the marshes, from their home. Eeriepaw hopes this isn't a permanent relocation, but so long as Specter and Chilled are okay, he doesn't think he minds much.
​

 

[Emberpaw]

She’s horse from mewling, but mewl she does, on and on even after her flailing limbs have failed her, she does not cease her cries for Chilledstar. She has begged Needle to let her go, to let her go back and help, but despite the molly’s own injuries she holds fast. By the time they reach their destination and Emberkit is released, she is entirely exhausted. She wobbles on unsteady paws, then sinks down into the dirt.
“Where are they? They’re coming with us, right?” She mumbles to herself, fidgeting as she stares around with wide, sodden eyes. Chilledstar, you need to come back. The chaos of cats reuniting or calling out to their own missed loved ones is muted. Emberkit wallows in her misery like a frog encased in marsh.

A group of cats approach, and Emberkit snaps from her stupor. She recognizes them, the warriors who’d tasked themselves with moving their unconscious leader. The child scrambles to her feet and stumbles toward them.
“Chilledstar!” She spots them immediately, and her stomach churns. They seem more awake now, but only just, and their pelt is still caked with blood. Emberkit makes a beeline for their side, attempting to curl up beside their beaten body. They’re here. They’re alive. I knew they had to be! The wounds must not have been so severe, then. The jagged tear, the stuttering flow of ruby that had painted them, must have been exaggerated by her fear. They were okay.

As Emberkit’s pulse steadied, she became more aware of her surroundings. The smell of the earth was acrid, and it stung her nose. The ground was hard, and above them she could see no sky. The only light filtered in horizontally from either side, unusual and unnatural. A low rumble sounded, distant at first but quickly growing into the hair-raising roar she’d heard only once before. With a yelp Emberkit buried her face in her paws, pelt puffed out and body trembling as a great beast barrelled right over their ears.
“W-Where are we?” she sniffled to no one in particular. Where had they taken refuge that could be so horrible?