sensitive topics Transcendence | Return + Bad News


The world swirls around her, she isn't sure where her paws end and the ground begins her body is abuzz with a static that's only broken by the agonizing throb that travels down her left foreleg up to her shoulder. Her ravaged skin is pulled taut, she can't tell if it tears she can't tell or feel much of anything else. Her rage had subsided replaced by a cold nothingness matched with a 100-yard stare, the numbness is what keeps her from passing out. She trudges on a familiar path, the only lingering feeling is the knowledge that she's missing something, that they're missing someone. She'd failed, her strength alone failed her when she needed it most - his clanmates faltered when he needed them most. All she'd managed to do was hurt herself, she'd self destructively thrown herself into deaths jaws not out of a sense of heroism or virtue but a sense of necessity. In her mind anyway, all it can think about now is keeping her awake and getting herself to safety.

She had to rely on Scorchstreak and Pinkpaw a majority of the way, she'd had no other choice, her balance kilters with every step she takes with her burnt leg - she catches glimpses of it in her peripherals as it moves ahead of her. She can't see well - she still sees the grisly red that streaks its way through scorched fur. Her nose still feels full of smoke and ash but yet she picks up on a familiar trail and with a winced glance she can make out that they're close - they're here. She pushes whoever leaned against her away (she doesn't remember) and quickens her limp, a sharp gasp of pain hisses from her with every forced stride. She breaks past the gorse and heather entrance, and she can only get a few steps in before she lists too far on her left and the leg can no longer take the abuse. She careens heavily, smashing on the ground and letting out a pained yowl, she tries to force herself upright so her burns don't tear against the dirt and grass. She's not entirely successful.

Her eyes are slits, she senses her clanmates surprise as they draw closer they're more familiar. She doesn't turn back to look to see her patrolmates come in behind her. She grits her teeth trying to fight back against her injuries, trying to hold onto every ounce of strength she can muster. Her voice croaks out "We were attacked.... by the border" her throat is hoarse "Sunst..." she gives up letting the side of her cheek rest on the ground. She opens her maw again trying to finish but she doesn't have any more energy. All she can do is lay there in a crumpled heap and breathe - and yet she still tries to find Scorchstreak's paws tries to look up and meet her gaze.

She'd made the call if anyone spat out what happened it should be her.



  • Directly following: This Thread + Retro to Evacuation
    Patrol buds: @SCORCHSTREAK @PINKPAW @gracklestep
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    Firefang She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 23 moons
    Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Kedamono@legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​
 
She can still feel the burn of fire in her nose as they trudge back to camp. She's never done something like this before. She's trudged home from battles, walked from camp to camp, but it felt different... more important to be the one helping a Clanmate get back home. Her ace is still smiling— but its furrowed in concentration, like the world would end of she or her let Firefang slip.

Firefang doesn't care though. Of course, cause she's a dummy... A wide stare follows the warrior as she pushes Pinkpaw away so she could pick up the pace, bursting past the heather tunnel. " Firefang! " Pinkpaw calls, sounding more worried than she should probably let herself sound... Everyone needed happy smiles right now! Happy smiles— But Firefang goes tumbling onto the ground, and Pinkpaw lets out a yelp, breaking into a brisk run to catch up to her. She's mumbling, mumbling... till she's not. Pinkpaw is about to shake her – but she sees that she's still awake. Just... sleepy. Pinkpaw's lip wobbles.

" There was a monster! " she cries then, drawing the attention of any Clanmates that hadn't seen Firefang already. " The monster... It came outta the f-fire, and it... and it saw Sunstar first... a-and... " she sniffs, a glassy sheen coming to blue - ringed eyes as she remembers what had happened to Sunstar. How to say it— how to explain, besides... bad. " It ch-chewed him up, n' it spit him out in the f-fire... "

Her ears flatten against her skull, and she'd turn to Scorchstreak, unwilling to finish such a sad story.
 
˚₊⋅───────── /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ─────────⋅ ˚₊

The heat of the sun-warmed earth is nothing compared to the way his coal-colored coat soaks in the burning of the flames he'd spent so much time racing alongside. His pads are surely burnt from moments of panicked sprint that had taken him over still smoldering piles of dead foliage and somewhere in the back of his head he feels like his whiskers have been singed shorter than they were when he'd left that morning.

Circling around with that mutt on his heels had felt like hell itself were chasing behind him, ready to wrap its ivory cage around his leg in the same fashion as it had to the prize stolen from Sunstar's body. It'd been a dangerous, stupid mission he'd assigned himself but one that had more or less guaranteed the mangy thing would not linger to chew at more pieces of their leader... or the rest of their patrol.

Huffing and panting, Gracklestep swears the air did not feel half so heavy a few days ago... so dense it felt like trying to shove wads of cotton tufts down his throat rather than just a simple breath to settle his aching lungs. He gives an undignified wheeze from where he practically appears from the ash from behind Pinkpaw, catching the tale end of the girl's story and her wide-eyed prompt for Scorchstreak to finish telling the truth.

"Glad you all... made it back," he says between painful, struggling breaths, "I think... I lost that thing awhile ago." Looking towards Firefang, who has collapsed and is being fussed over by the droopy apprentice, he frowns slightly. "Being named after fire... didn't save you huh?...."

He's fairly certain if she had the chance she'd get up and swat him right now but... he won't give it to her and opts to go looking for a medicine cat instead. Wasn't his job to tell the clan the bad news about Sunstar and he certainly didn't want to be around when accusations started to get thrown around. "Anyone seen @WOLFSONG? @cottonpaw ?"
 
"They're ... back?" Beekit's voice filters throuh the smoky air from the direction of the nursery. They're on sentry duty, as the oldest and the one who's allowed to stay up the latest, and it gives them something to do that isn't tell the other kits scary stories and make the situation worse.

Any jubilation that they might feel at their Clanmates' return, however, is promptly replaced by horror at the state of the patrol. They peer from the nursery, wide eyes darting from Clanmate to Clanmate, stretching impossibly further as Firefang crashes to the ground. It's only then that they depart the safety of the den, not waiting for an answer or a call to get back inside before fleeing to the medicine den in order to fetch one of their healers.

// going to get yelled at to get out of the meddie den a healer<3
 

The scent of fear rolled in with the smoke- Featherpaw had been acutely aware that Sunstar and Pinkpaw both were on patrol, so that riling mix brought bile up, raked an ache right through her. For a moment, freezer-burn composure faltered- worry widened sharp yellow eyes, and she studied the returning patrol with a franticness he would later regret. Fangs fastened fiercely, and white paws picked their way over, blood and breeze roaring in her ears. Firefang trailed off, losing her boldness the moment it mattered- she'd have liked to slap her back to her senses, but Pinkpaw's wobbling voice distracted him, and he looked to his friend with incredulity and a peppering of fear.

"Into the fire?" Featherpaw repeated, disbelief dripping from her tone. And Sunstar was not here, decidedly- there was no sign of rosetted golden on the horizon, no familiar scent. He suppressed a shiver, dread beginning to coat her blood in frost. Anger mixed with fear at the slow, sinking realisation; something awful had happened. Something so terrible that there was no body to drag home through the dust.

Featherpaw tried to choke the fear within him, tried to douse the anger, but it kept burning. Cold, all-consuming. "He's... did he..." Swallowing thick and hard, Featherpaw's eyes narrowed, pupils darting between each face, waiting for them- begging for them to give her the answer. An answer she knew, deep in her heart. "Did he lose a life?" It was better than is he dead. Because why would he not be back?
✦ penned by pin
 
༄༄ Firefang is heavy, the calico thinks bitterly as she helps to steady the other warrior on their trek back to camp. The wound on her leg looks dangerously bright, as though it is still screaming with flame beneath the moor runner’s skin. The thought curls Scorchstreak’s lip, and she shoves it from her mind. Better to focus on the plague of rattled clanmates they will inevitably need to face once they step inside of the camp’s entrance…

Firefang is in no state to describe their patrol’s tragedy, but Pinkpaw steps forward to tell the clan what happened, and the lead warrior’s expression hardens. The apprentice should not have to explain, but Grscklestep has already turned to fetch one of the medicine cats.

Scorchstreak meets Featherpaw’s eyes for a heartbeat, and her voice comes out strained. "I assume he did. We don’t know for sure, but… it wasn’t good." Sympathy floods her chest as she looks upon Featherpaw, who has just been told that her father may or may not be dead. She grits her teeth, knowing that there is no way to frame today’s events without painting herself in the darkest possible light. The lead warrior who left her leader there to die, to continue dying. She can practically hear their bitten-out accusations already, and a flame-dappled ear flicks. Of course, she stands by her decision. She is no traitor—she is merely the lead warrior who is caught between a rock and a hard place and could only dig her way out. "He couldn’t walk. There wasn’t a way to bring him back." She does not mention his leg. If it comes back, then no one should hear of it at all; there is no reason to force that grisly mental image upon the entire clan.

"The three of you, go find Wolfsong or Cottonpaw. Someone help fetch the lead warriors—tell them to meet myself and the medicine cats in Sunstar’s den. The council will discuss what to do." The council will discuss not only the state of the clan without Sunstar and their ideas to get him back to camp, but also the fact of the flames licking at the gorse walls now, threatening not only their once-beautiful territory but now their very lives.

// looking for @Periwinklebreeze. @RATTLEHEART @Bluepool
 



Yellow-green eyes squinted at the patrol that limped into camp, pupils broad with a callous curiosity. The first thing he noticed was the absence of a spotted hero, the second was how haggered one of the patrol members looked. His stare settled upon Firefang, his body jolting when she collided with the ground, as if his nerves and hers were the same. Sootspot's tail began to lash behind him as he forced himself to stay in place, clinging to the edge of camp like a shadow. The message of an attack caused his tufted ears to twitch, feeling his heartbeat flutter at the description of the rosette tabby's demise. Pinkpaw was an unreliable narrator, he could peer into one ear and see perfectly out the other side, but Featherpaw believed her, Gracklestep enforced something had attacked them, and Scorchstreak... Scorchstreak all but admitted that she was another monster. With no Deputy, there was a golden opportunity for her to take the reigns, to become Scorchstar should the fiery villain be half as horrible as their abrupt descriptions entailed. It was another ambitious power grab he'd predicted, only this time, he didn't feel conflict about not getting involved.

Sootspot didn't fancy culling snakes, but should they eat themselves, he was more than happy to feast on whatever was left. He smiled at Scorchstreak, at her wrongdoing, then crept past the tortoiseshell. "Do not mourn your inaction," he cooed to the Lead Warrior. "When the sun turned black, StarClan had already decided that he had to die. Fate... such a powerful thing." The Tunneler prowled towards Firefang, staring down at the reckless she-cat with his head giving an owl-like tilt. A frown replaced his peaceful expression, his gaze tracing over the flame-licked skin upon her leg. 'I cannot tell if you are the most loyal cat I know, or the most treacherous.' There was a rattle in his lungs as he inhaled and Sootspot quietly chuffed into the wild fur upon his chest, trying to rid himself of the feeling before it became a full-fledged cough. When his rounded pupils found Firefang once more, they met her gaze, a sense of camaraderie in them not from friendship, but from a mutual understanding garnered a half-moon ago. She said she'd get exiled before him, but he'd have never singed his skin on a patrol like that.

His confusion banished his silence. "Why are you hurt?"

 

Yellow eyes lingered level upon Scorchstreak as she spoke, red-dappled and scarred, newly brushed with smoke-stench and a wound clinging to her leg. Featherpaw felt the sting of anger as well as the twist of knowledge within her at war- there was no way to bring him back, she said. All of Featherpaw's senses, paranoid and encompassing, were telling her to scream at Scorchstreak that he did not believe her- that she had left his father there to die out of a selfish want for his power. Out of some want to hurt WindClan, hurt Featherpaw.

It was Pinkpaw's trust in her that kept his fangs fastened, though... kept his ears flattened, and mixed a contorted look of confusion and understanding onto his face, an ugly, wrinkling concoction. Pinkpaw would not hurt her- and she had to believe, as much as it strained her to trut, that Scorchstreak didn't want to either. The ground swam beneath him, and he tried to keep steely, but could not. There wasn't a way. Featherpaw could not look at Scorchstreak, could not look at Pinkpaw or Firefang- did not notice the approaching footsteps of Sootspot. In a ragged breath without disdain but raked instead with distant sorrow, she murmured, "You c-c-couldn't even try...?" Pathetic and childish. They had tried, surely... the lot of them stank of blood and smog.

For once, her voice lacked barbs. She would curse her vulnerability only moments later, when Sootspot's slimy words slopped out of his mouth like tumbling slugs. He had to die.

Any vulnerability Featherpaw felt was rolled back inside of her in an instant, as if she were gathering up spilled intestines. Flashing eyes of yellow snapped toward the tuft-eared tom, fury already glazed there. "You know nothing of StarClan," he spat. StarClan had made his father leader- had trusted him with WindClan, with- presumably- those nine lives. If they intentionally ripped them away in an instant... "Choke on your own tongue, you worm. If you p-p-purr at my father's death ever again, your b-b-buh... beloved fate won't be kind to you- I'll make you eat it." Eyes scalded cold, a sticking freezer-burn. Slit pupils lingered on Sootspot for a few long moments. He could say what he liked to her, the boar-face, but she would make good on her word.

With a snort and a chin thrust skyward, Featherpaw rolled like a storm away, uncaring to dignify anyone anymore. Even Pinkpaw did not gain a glance, for in that moment, she was blind- and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than her father.
✦ penned by pin
 
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She's glad that Gracklestep is okay. Scorchstreak is okay. Firefang... would be okay, she thinks, as she hears Gracklestep call for, and a kit maybe going to get the Medicine Cats. Sunstar would be okay, somehow. And Featherpaw...

She meets them with a look of dismay, eyes sharpened, but somehow differen't from how she usually looked. Into the fire? Pinkpaw nods wearily. She doesn't think anything she says can be happy enough, cause... what would she do if she heard Heavy Snow was torn to bits and thrown into fire? If Brightshine was? Did he lose a life? Maybe that was the difference, cause... Heavy Snow and Brightshine only had one of those. Maybe things could be fixed. Maybe...

She hadn't thought about it back then... but now it made her sad to here. Scorchstreak had known already, and she feels silly for not thinking about it... The council would discuss, cause Sunstar wasn't here to make a decision... For a moment, Pinkpaw just looks at her paws. She should've done something, maybe... but what could she have done? Scorchstreak probably thought the same thing too, she realizes... You couldn't even try? asks Featherpaw. Pinkpaw wasn't sure who he was talking to, but either way, she shakes her head.

And Sootspot comes at the worst times... which is practically always, she's starting to think. His words are funny, and then his words are wrong. StarClan decided that he had to die. He had to die? No— he deserves everything that Featherpaw says to him, and in a burst of anger Pinkpaw hasn't had in a long while, she snaps " Everything you say is stupid, Sootspot! " It was't very nice, but Pinkpaw was starting to think Sootspot wasn't very nice, either.

He made Featherpaw feel bad. More bad than he probably felt already. Sootspot probably doesn't even care! Pinkpaw does't think he should get to walk up to Firefang and ask her that! " She's hurt because she tried to save Sunstar! " Pinkpaw answers for Firefang, grin pinched under her frustration. " Which is clearly something too brave for you to understand! " She ought to get the Lead Warriors, she ought to... but instead, she looks wildly around for the Medicine Cats. Firefang should be talking to them, not Sootspot.

" I bet— I bet StarClan was tryna warn us, " she suddenly says, saying the words as they come to her. " They were warning us about Sootstar. Sootstar sent that monster I bet, cause she's j-jealous of how much better Sunstar is than her. "
 
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Smoke and fear permeates every breath and Bluepool is not immune. Fire is an enemy that they could not fight off with tooth and claw and therefor it was something to be feared (because how was she supposed to protect those she loved from something she could not kill?) Her heart falters when the patrol returns and the smell of blood fills the air. Scorchstreak, instantly she is scanning the crowd for a sign of red tortoiseshell fur and only when her golden eyes fall upon her mates pelt does she allow herself to breath. She rushes forward, desperate to be near her, to check her over for any wounds, any signs of distress. "I'm here" she says softly as she presses her nose to the mollies cheek. The smell of fire fills her nostrils but she doesn't care. She pulls back to inspect her, golden eyes quickly flitting across her pelt. "You're okay? Still in one piece?" She asks, just to be sure. She is not sure what she would do if she wasn't, but still she had to be absolutely certain.

And then her attention snaps to her nephew who, as usual, was busy making the biggest ass of himself possible. "Enough!" she snaps not only in his direction, but Pinkpaw's as well. The absolute disrespect from all parties at the moment was absolutely unbelievable. "Nephew, you never cease to amaze me with how much of a hare brain you can be" Featherpaw was right to be angry, she would not hold it against her apprentice when her kin spoke so boldly of their leader "Fate has nothing to do with this. This is the work of twolegs not StarClan or Sootstar or anyone else. She's gone she can't hurt us anymore." Or at least, she hopes that is the case. She had watched the light die from her sister's eyes, had held her down while Periwinklebreeze had ended things once and for all. If she could still touch them even now... Bluepool does not want to think of it.

Instead she levels Sootspot with a cold gaze, a sneer pulling up the corners of her lips, disgust evident in her eyes before she turns and stalks off to Sunstar's den, set on attending the aforementioned council meeting that her mate had called for.
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    BLUEPOOL WINDCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO SOOTSTAR & MINTSHADE
    A small framed moor runner with a blue toned pelt and black stripes. Her tail is cropped and her eyes are golden in color. On her chest, she sports a large 'X' shaped scar.
    Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + isn’t above using dirty tricks in order to win
 
જ➶ Ghostly figure sits at the back of the gathering cats as the patrol returns looking worse for wear. Worn, the stench of ash and blood leaking off of them. But someone is missing. Someone important to the stability of the clan. His eyes narrow as he searches among them, shifting his paws with nervous energy that radiates up his limbs. What happened? Pushing himself to stand he approaches and already there is a cacophony of voices. Firefang's stammer is his first words caught before everyone is talking and he manages to understand something. They were attacked through the flames and Sunstar was lost. Snow can't help when his eyes widen, thinking immediately that their leader is dead. Then who will lead them next? Though no one brings it up and he looks between then, jaws parting before he hears Featherpaw ask if he lost a life. A life? Brows furrowing he is confused but also not sure how he truly feels.

If his body was tossed across the flames then they couldn't have reached him. But they still left Sunstar to his fate. Unease shifts through him but he finds he has nothing to say. Not about Starclan or what they willed or even about Sootstar and her former cruel reign. Sighing he turns away and goes back to his rest, shaking himself and trying to keep cool. At the moment it's a madhouse but he can only hope things will get better.
 

Firefang's flanks rise and fall quickly she drinks in air like water to sate her hungry lungs, she has to fight to keep herself from falling unconscious it saps all of her energy and focus. She hears Pinkpaw yowl out but the words sound so much more far away then they are, if she could process it she'd have had to bite back laughter at how childish she made it all sound - a mockery of a tragedy. Both she and Scorchstreak are safe, despite how kittish the apprentice it was better Firefang then her who'd gotten hurt and if she had held onto her strength she could've explained what happened. But she couldn't - she wanted to try but she can't manage even as her breathing slows.

She'd asked about Gracklestep on the way only to hear he'd been the one daring enough to lead the hellish hound away risking his own flank (or well legs) to do so. She hadn't thought the tom was capable of that kind of bravery, seeing him step back into the camp and closer to his patrol-mates is a welcome sight, he hadn't become dog food he'd live to see another day. Still she has the urge to swipe at him when he looks down at her and makes a 'clever' comment, he's lucky she's too weak and only has one of her paws that's of any use right now. She manages to grumble instead, her eyes watch him as he begins to look for either of the medicine cats. She had no choice but to rely on them now, these weren't the types of wounds she could clean with her tongue alone, she'd die without their healing and yet still she doesn't want her life in their paws. She'd never gotten along with Wolfsong even when they were on the same side when the days were bright and Sootstar was celebrated, and Cottonpaw she hadn't truly spoken to since the younger she-catwas still Icebreath's apprentice moons ago. She still cared about her despite everything but the medicine cats of Windclan either never lasted and at best were Wolfsong their longest standing so far - and she didn't want to deal with a mini-Wolfsong!

She's glad it isn't her who had to break the news when Featherpaw approaches, she found the stuttering apprentice to be a little brat pretending to be big but she'd take no pleasure in being the barer of bad news. Sunstar was his dad and anyone could see plainly how much he loved him, he'd be left in the dark like they all were about Sunstar's fate but it'd be worse for him and his siblings who wouldn't have a chance to properly mourn until the fires were gone and they could search for Sunstar or the body he left behind. She doesn't twist the knife and she wouldn't have if her paw was around the handle, it was Sootspot who did however. It was funny how little tact the tom had, he was brave that was for certain saying what some thought but didn't have the gonads to say; but he was still making himself into a juicy haunch of meat surrounded by a bunch of already agitated hounds and expecting them not to snap. Mousebrain - but she wonders if his words ring with any truth she really doesn't know and hopes that he only speaks falsehoods. She doesn't like the idea of fate, Firefang wanted to choose her own destiny and she had time and time again at least she wanted to believe she did.

She feels the skin under her pelt burn as his eyes flit over her, it bothers her for any cat to see her so injured - after their talk though he was the last cat she wanted to be seen by she revealed enough wounds to him for him to see another - a real one but still he'd seen her weakness already. He asks her how she was hurt and her maw parts to try and choke out the words she'd never be able to say out but Featherpaw's outburst interrupts her. She still stammers but the ferocity behind her growl makes her hardly notice it's unsurprising though and not entirely unwarranted. Sootspot invited it onto himself and he could take it, it's not just Featherpaw who tells him to shut up; Pinkpaw is quick to snap. Everything you say is stupid, he is a smart tom she's sure anyone can see that when they're not looking at at the conniving parts of his intellect which she saw plain as day. He was just wrong this time and with a pawful of other things. She doesn't have to describe what she did to him, it's Pinkpaw who shouts it out.

Barve. She doesn't feel very brave laying crumpled on the ground, she had tried but she'd failed and instead of dying she'd listened to Scorchstreaks call and jumped out of the flames. Was that brave? No, not at all not in her eyes. She frowns and she stares forward her head still slumped, she doesn't look at anything or anyone "I wasn't strong enough" she rasps, she'd tried and failed for nothing and would wear her failure on her pelt- it snaked up her leg and burnt it's shame permanently into her skin.

She continues to fight her exhaustion - fighting the weakness that scream pain into every nerve in her body.

 
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"TAKE ME TO YOUR ORCHARD, SO SWEET"
It is like a crescendo in her ears as she realizes what its going on.

The fire and smoking clinging to the air. Firefang, Pinkpaw, Scorchstreak. Her gaze is unfocused as Pinkpaw tells the story of what happened, makes her so very aware that Sunstar is injured. Sunstar is dying. He was left to the flames. He was left to the flames. Rivepaw's brain is on a toxic repeat as she staggered to Featherpaw's side. Even as their pelts touched, stark-blue eyes were staring out of camp. Past the brewing argument, into the depths of flame and smoke. Things that fit the name sun but he did not fall to.

"We have to go get him." Her voice is wobbly- it squeaks out, sharp pitched and uneven. It didn't become of her, the fear that was evident in her tone. It was a sharply haunted look as she stared head, ears flattening against her head. Vision finally broke from the territory to look at her sibling. He was yelling. Sootspot was purring. A purr. That was meant to be in comforting moments, ones where joy was spread.

Eyes full of storms snapped towards Sootspot. Bluepool had said her piece, but that didn't mean that Rivepaw couldn't. It was low, quiet, the snarl that began, but ripped from her lungs like a chaos unbound. She didn't care that she was still smaller, that she wasn't fully trained, that this risk was so like her. She didn't care. The only thing she cared about right now was defending Sunstar's name. Defending her father's legacy, for if he was dead, she was never going to let scum who purred at the news of her father's dead forget him, or how he lived on.

"You can find a ditch to rot in, like a dying snake." She spat at Sootspot, stepping forward from where she had pressed against her brother. Her veins felt aflame with the fury in her soul, the fury she was named after, the undying rage of the fire that was cast over the moor.. "I'll be right behind my sibling to ensure any smile that crosses your lips at my father's death's will be raked off of your face." Featherpaw had already begun to term and storm off, but Rivepaw held her ground, icey blue eyes staring dead at Sootspot who had already found another cat to speak to.
"yuh"