sensitive topics turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime // leaving a message

[✧ Siltcloud.]

TW: mutilated prey animals / gore depictions

NEVER REALLY UNDERSTOOD
THEY WAY YOU LAID YOUR EYES ON ME ​

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siltcloud & 19 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan exile ​

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Snow speckles the ground for the first time in moons as leafbare sinks it's claws into the world - but the chill of the night air is not the only thing that lingers upon the territory as the cold sun rises. Unwanted and unwelcome, an all to familiar scent winds it's way across the territory - purposefully at that, her pawsteps left blatantly apparent for any passing patrol.

Not even a few sunrises into exile, and Siltcloud has already trespassed upon shadowlan land. It's as though she's taunting them, making a mockery of the borders, trailing closer to camp than is comfortable. Reminding them that she was born and raised there, knows this land just as well as any other.

And then of course, is the matter of her gift.

She's long gone - but her point is not. She hates them - all of them. Shadowclan has been tainted for far too long. She'd been foolish to think herself and her brother free of the rot - and she will make them see that, one way or another.

Blood stains the white snow red, painting a morbid picture for all to see. Feathers and wings, scales and limbs, heads and eyes and bones and flesh and organs lay strewn about - all of it left mangled and bloody upon shadowclans doorstep, mudied and inedible. She's stolen their precious leafbare prey, rendered it crowfood, perhaps even less than that.

It's a sickening sight, even for the one who'd left it - but it'd been worth it. It's a warning, it's a taunt - and most of all, it's a promise. One day, it will not just be prey. If any were to bother to follow the bloodstained trail away from the stomach churning sight, they'd find it abruptly vanishing upon the thunderpath, it's once ice-slick surfaced turned to muddy slush by the roaring beasts, the trail going cold.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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A N D ━ S O ━ I T ━ S E E M S ━ I ━ B R O K E ━ Y O U R ━ H E A R T

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// Surprise! Or not? this is a pre approved plot for y'all to enjoy over the coming weeks - silt will be harassing shadowclan and inciting violence until further notice! welcome to the chaos <3

TL:DR for this thread is she's left multiple mutilated prey not far from camp, as well as not bothered to hide her presence / the fact she hunted said prey on shadowclan territory! She is however, long gone!

 

[smogstar]

Sluggish pawsteps guide the patrol onward. Every other footfall demands a quick flick to evict the snow that'd made a home between his digits and claws, and he does so with a sharp huff each time. There's this curious odour colouring the crisp air, and the group's trajectory has altered somewhat thanks to its lure.

Unfamiliar scents seldom accompany the Leaf-bare breeze, much less scents so foetid. When a prey-creature meets its end during this unpleasant season, its remains freeze over before they're smothered in fresh snow—leaving scant space for carrion-stink to arise. It perturbs him mildly. He can only deduce whatever had died, its death wasn't a natural one.

Confronting the macabre scene brings his brows to a subtle arch. Snow shifts errantly to reveal innards and entrails strewn haphazardly around a brief perimeter. When the wind piques, the detestable bouquet floods his nasal canals in all its grisly glory, prompting a sneer in reflex. "Oh, wonderful," remarks the deputy, his lack of prudence drawing him nearer. The ugly truth rears its head after a blink's worth of assessment; "We had a visitor, looks like," he says, "look." A delicate gesture points towards a meek little trail left in the snowy blanket. Pawsteps, and traitorous ones at that.

Exhaling hot air from flared nostrils, Smogmaw outstretches a paw to prod gingerly at a larger organ scattered about. "What- what is this? Never seen sum'n like this before." His expertise on internal bodyparts is impressively confined. Whatever it was, it seemed to be stiff, as though it sat among the powder for the better half of the night. Tail-fur grazes the ground as he pivots to view his patrolmates, and only then, he realises just how close to camp Siltcloud had left her present.

"Any takers?"

They'll follow her trail for the patrol's remainder, not a question about it, but Smogmaw sincerely doubts she's anywhere within the swamp's reach. It'd been cowardice that earned her exile, after all.​

 

[Nightwhisper.]

I don't mind if the world spins faster​

---

What a brutal sight to come across, especially one so close to camp. Worry trek deep in her mind, how had one gotten so close without even anyone noticing? Her golden gaze examined each bloodied part on splay while a gross feeling twined and twisted in her stomach, a nauseated feeling creeping through her chest while questioning how the deputy could be so...calm by such a sight.

Ears flattening on their skulls while they looked back to the scene of the crime, Smogmaw chiming about taking on the trail she let a soft sigh a bit, tail thumping on the snow that lay disturbed on the ground, its normal pure color ruined with that of crimson. "She couldn't have gotten far, I'll come along" she stated softly, gaze drifting to the paw-steps that led to and fro the scene of the incident.

Had Siltcloud begun to show her true colors now? Or, was this just her way of expressing how she felt being tossed aside from Shadowclan due to being her own brother's accomplice. "Surely she doesn't believe she can get away with this..." they said softly, a disgrace to use prey in such a manner, and not only that, Siltcloud had directly threatened them by getting so close to camp. ​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[lilacfur]

Once a cat has been exiled or voluntarily abandoned the Clan, Lilacfur had no reason to believe her home would continue to be visited by them. When her Clanmates had chased out the pair of siblings a few sunrises ago she had thought it would be the final time her Clan would ever see them. That they wouldn't be so frogbrained to try and harass their borders or attack them when they had no allies in their ranks.

That morning Lilacfur had learned she was wrong. So very wrong, Siltcloud's scent was like a sirens alarm as it reached her senses; she almost wouldn't have detected the preyblood if it weren't for the fact there was so much. This was deliberate, it was hateful, it was disgusting.

How did I never see this? Regardless of their feelings for one another, Siltcloud had been her friend since they were kits. At what point had Siltcloud become this, and she had no idea?

"Smogmaw, she wouldn't-" Her teeth clamped together as she withheld a snarl of frustration. Denial. It was hard to swallow accepting the cinnamon tabby could have done this. "I... I'll go too. I will find where she went." ​

[ i need the clouds to cover me ]​

 

[Frostbite]

Frostbite follows Smogmaw on the patrol, a patrol that had been going normally until Smogmaw happened upon a grotesque display. Frostbite wrinkles his nose and curls a lip in disgust as he looks at it, Siltcloud's scent all over it. He lashes his tail in irritation. What a waste of prey. For Shadowclan, and for Siltcloud. Though he supposes she's found other ways of feeding herself now that she's left the marsh. Which is likely, there's plenty of other food sources out there for her to choose from now.

"Is this supposed to be a message? Is she trying to intimidate us?" He says, temper flaring and looking at the mess. "Does she think she won't be caught?"

His claws grip the ground beneath him. "If she wants to continue to be a threat, then I'll be happy to treat her as such." He will not be negligent when it comes to the clans security.

"If she's going to make this a habit, I think we should have more guards around camp at night." He suggests. "That she got so close to camp and made this charming display shows she isnt taking us seriously."​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

What's the point?

Leafbare would starve them all, ShadowClan or not. Them having the worst of it did not mean other cats did not struggle. Who could afford not to gnaw on every bone; not to pick clean every skull. Why be wasteful; and frankly, gross, all for the sake of proving some kind of point. And what point was it? That she could still take their prey, without being a part of their washed - up collective?

" I'd never thought she was the type, " he mumbles. But then again, he'd never thought she was the type to do anything else she'd done. To play accomplice to acts so vile. Does she think she'll get away with this? Both Nightwhisper and Frostbite ponder. Conveniently, they both forget that she had gotten away with plenty for a long, long time. " It's gross. " What a grand observation from her.

He expects to find nothing, even as he trods after the patrol, tracing the path of blood and guts and bitter - ness scent as far as it would take them.

It shows she isnt taking us seriously. And really, ShadowClan has never shown that they ought to be taken seriously. " Why would she? " is he all he says. Besides that, he is silent.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

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• ( OF THE THINGS I'VE GOT IN MY BRAIN ) SHARPSHADOW: Formerly mentored by Smogmaw
  ♱ he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms
  ♱ currently 17 moons old as of 11.12.23 / ages every 8th
  
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  
  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others. —scraping together some higher purpose— making somewhat of an effort to be " likeable "
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[COMFREYPAW]

“She’s crazy,” Comfreypaw says in a whisper-soft voice. Amber eyes are wide and round with fear at the sickening display. Siltcloud’s scent is now rank as any rogue’s, even through its familiarity, and tainted with the crowfood she’d left to rot in the snow banks near their camp. The charcoal tabby is disquieted, lets her belly begin to bubble. She has to turn her face away from the macabre gift the cinnamon she-cat had left them all. “She’s not afraid of anything we can do to her, clearly,” she murmurs in agreement with Frostbite and Sharpshadow. She can see the sickening expression on Lilacfur’s face after Smogmaw and Nightwhisper discover the grisly presents. Part of her wants to comfort the pale molly—another part of her no longer knows how. She, like her Clanmates, has been drained of the ability.

, ”​

​