THIS TOWN HAS DRAGGED YOU DOWN | RTA DOG ATTACK

[softheart]

cw for violence, injury

He's ghosting around, no set direction. It's a usual occurrence, he's never had any solidity. Even anchored to the warm glow, taking comfort in the confines of his housefolks residence he's always drifted half-heartedly venturing the same rooms, the same empty backyard. The same glazed stare always wandering. He's set on his task, that is to say, with the results one would expect from Softheart. He's wandered far from the patrol, driven by the desire to not return to camp empty-jawed.

They're on the hunt for prey, however he's only able to regard the fleeing prey he's discovred with a distant stare. With the lack of attention ever paid to anything, it's no wonder how he crashes face first into the big beast. A split second is allowed for the stout creature to blink and in the seconds he has available to him Softheart reels back, spurred into an urgent action for the first time in his life. All he can hear is the booming barks that erupt in a flurry, repeating and without pause.

In conversation, where there is a slow, lax drawl, the cold dread crawling through him has panicked and shouting. His caterwauls echo off the surrounding trees. The long muzzled creature is one he's met in passing, never venturing far enough from home to blindly crash into any of them.

It lunges forward, teeth piercing through his fluffy pelt to grip the warm body beneath, clamping onto his back. Softheart writhes futilely, striking out sideways and catching the creature in the eye, shocking it into releasing Softheart. One eye squinting it dithers before settling on advancing again, snapping jaws. He's uselessly turning tail to try and scramble up any of the nearby trees but it snaps at his heels, biting and pulling at his hind leg. Blood trickling down his sides stain his cream coat red.​

 

[ThistleBack]

Clambering sideways, Thistleback is midair after pushing off the bark and swiping down a starling. The speckled bird smacks the ground in a confused splay, but a caterwaul pierces the forest’s silence. Vocals twisted in pain and horror, it’s enough for the hunter to land on his paws and freeze while the starling makes a feathery escape that earns not even a blink from the piebald’s way. The thunder of dog bark, paired with the cries of a clanmate- he kicks off, hindlegs like hammers.

He bursts from the pines, the dog’s snarls and barks vibrate the ground. A ferocious beast, with menacing canines that snap around Softheart’s leg, the ragdoll’s fur is stained harsh crimson already from brutal assault. Trying desperately in vain to get away.

He was not fast, his weight in muscle made him slow but he did not hesitate to collide into the dog’s thick-skulled head and snap his teeth around a chunk of flesh above it’s already bleeding eye he lets go just as quickly to use his momentum to leap to safety. A growl bellowed from his throat, " Come on then mutt! " he provokes, hissing and leaping sideways to attract the dog away from Softheart. " You should’ve been smothered as a pup! " he further insults, readying himself to flee toward the twolegplace with a dog on his tail.

⛤ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛤

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  forty-eight mns. EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Former Lead warrior of Skyclan 12.22.22 - 06.2023
  — Father of Coyotecrest, Eveningpaw, Briarpaw, Damsel, Sunflowerpaw, and Rosepaw.
  — mentoring Teeveepaw formerly Snowpath & Quillstrike
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
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[spicepurr]

Spicepaw has learned more than the basics of battle, but with SkyClan being a largely peaceful home, she's never seen it herself. Some of their own have died to rogues, sure, and it seems that foxes and other Clans will always be a prevalent worry but it just so happens that the bicolor she-cat never encountered those issues before. At least... until now.

She's a part of Thistleback's hunting patrol and thus mere foxlengths from him when the hound's barking catches their attention. She watches as his prey flaps and escapes in the confusion, and though she thinks it a pity she's sure whatever lies ahead of them is far more important. The she-cat waits until her mentor is by her side before following the rather frightening sound dutifully. What she sees is not something she's at all used to.

Softheart's leg is a deep burgundy, and the tom screams and cries with the pain. Spicepaw instinctively rushes towards him, not the dog, and looks him over. She's no medicine cat, she cannot heal him or set any broken bones, but... she can stand guard, can't she? "We're here, we're here," she says, though she worries they will not be enough for the canine. She does not voice this worry to Softheart. "Just - er, just breathe, okay?"

[ @MOMOWHISKER mentor tag :3 ]​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

IF THE POINT'S TO NEVER DISAPOINT YOU, SOMEBODY'S GOT TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO​

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”Stupid sun in my eyes..” grumbled Quillstrike as he picked himself up off the ground and shook out his coat after failing to land a particularly difficult combat move he was working on. It just so happened that it was bright as hell out today and his favorite spot had him squinting directly into the glare of the sun. Not ideal for precision moves. He was just about to give it another try when the tranquil sounds of the pines were disrupted by barking- and a cat screeching.

He was up the nearest tree in a heartbeat, racing and leaping among the twisted branches of the canopy with all the speed and skill of a skyclan warrior as he made his way toward the horrible noises. He was no fool- he knew what was happening and what he might see when he got there- but he wouldn’t leave a dog unchallenged in his clans territory even if it was too late for him to change the outcome for whatever cat was caught in the mutts teeth.

By the time he reached the spot, Quillstrike was ready for war. Fury coursed hot through his veins, adrenaline pumping twice as hard when he realized he was neither alone nor too late- Softheart lay injured with Momowhisker and Spicepaw beside them, and none other than Thistleback staring down the slathering jaws of the dog. Why wasn't he fucking surprised?

The growl that rumbled in his throat like rumbling stones was quick to turn into a hoarse yowl as dropped down from the trees and threw himself at the haunches of the mutt, grappling with tooth and claw while handlegs burrowed his claws deep and raked bloody furrows into the flesh there. He felt jaws snapping by his head as it reeled back on him, clipping an ear and leaving it stinging and bloody as he kicked off of them to land a few feet away, fur sharp like spikes among the bluejay feathers along his spine.

”Come on shitbreath! Over here!” he hissed, swatting at the air in front of him as he maneuvered himself toward Thistleback, trying to keep the dogs attention on them and not the others.
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skyclan - male - 29 months (Feb 17th) - mated to Twitchbolt - a very tall, dark chimera tomcat with mismatched eyes and several scars. has bluejay feathers woven like spikes along his spine and neck.

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

It always was somethin’ in SkyClan and damnit why can’t they have one normal day where nothin’ went wrong? Wistful thinkin’, ain’t it? A spew of curses slipped from a scarred maw, pupils constrictin’ to mere slits, teeth bared at the yappin’ mutt. If he’d been a hotheaded teen, the obsidian warrior would have rushed to join the two warriors but veered toward Softheart’s injured frame, molten hues scannin’ them for any other injuries.

Thankfully, he had Chivepaw nestled in camp doin’ chores while he planned for their next lesson.

“I’ll carry him while they have it distracted. We’re nothin’ but sittin’ ducks gettin’ in the way.” He muttered; timbre a low, guttural thrum. “Momowhisker.” Turnin’ to the daylight warrior, tone deadly calm. “Keep a lookout in case that thing tries followin’ us and if it does, I want ya to take Softheart to Dawnglare and Fireflyglow while I help keep it preoccupied.” Might've not been the most practical, but Duskpool had a great deal of knowledge beneath his ragged fur to handle an angry mutt.

Whether the other followed wasn’t Duskpool’s problem, mutterin’ a soft “Up you get, kiddo,” and in an attempt to pull the injured feline onto broad shoulders, muscles flexin’ beneath scarred flesh, drawin’ a silent grunt from the warrior. ​

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thought speech​

 

[softheart]

Every jerk of his hind leg, has the beast pressing jaws tighter together. His own, loud protest echoes in his ears - so when the forest growth explodes with activity and the jaw is unhinged Softheart sags to the ground. He does little more than stare and blink slowly at Thistleback's attack with oval eyes. The glint of teeth, of blood and violence, amongst it all, Softheart's ears press flatly to his skull. It's quickly becoming clear that he's not going to die in the jaws of the creature, or abandoned amongst the grass.

Blood oozes lazily from his back where the beast has gripped him. More urgently, his hind leg bears deep a deep bite wound which bleeds eagerly, catching in his fur and wetting his leg. His attention for once raptured, Spicepaw's assurance coaxes his ears up marginally.

"I'm glad." Abandonment from his clanmates is something he's not sure he could bear, after all, he had been lucky when many moon ago it had been the clan who found him once, wandering and abandoned by his housefolk, susceptible to the threat of the wilderness. Breathless words are hurried, his usually slow and dithering speech making no appearance. "Thank StarClan you're all here."

Quillstrike is launching himself at the beast, the firing of jaws, the streaks left the wake of Quillstrike's attack, he's able to do little more than lie passively. He watches the trio's pounding paws and taunts with a kind of distance. Duskpool's drawl draws his round eyes that won't seem to relax any. It doesn't take long for plans to be laid out to his relief and Softheart is being raised, draws in a sharp breath at the movement. Otherwise offering no resistance. Dawnglare and Fireflyglow; they must find them, he thinks. "Camp.... That's where we need to ago." He supplies unhelpfully.

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