sensitive topics unravel — trespassing rogues

[LITTLEMOON]

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

/ no relation to the yellowcough plot ! this has been a planned thread even before the rogue plot was made ! there will be mentions of gore, and near-death experiences, but will provide a summary of what happened for anyone who isn't comfortable ^^

He ignored the call to be careful, sprinting after the squealing mouse, hues narrowed to mere slits against an expanding ocean. Difficult with his short stature, Littlepaw wasn’t one to give up simply because he couldn’t do something, already lengthening the distance from his mentor and fellow clanmates to streak past foliage and closer to the twoleg border that he came to a fumbling stop. His teeth found savory flesh bursting with copper against his tongue, silencing the sharp cry with a choked huff.

His excitement fell short at the haunting stench of rogue hitting him square in the face, whipping around, mouse tail slapping him across the cheek to stare at approaching felines, strangers to the feline crossing the border without repercussions. His heart nearly lept up into his throat, thoughts of pain and so many emotions that he could barely make sense of anything around him, a buzzing sound rising about the pulse of his core like hummingbird wings.

Dropping the mouse between fuzzy paws, Littlepaw sneered, nothing more than a laughingstock once their laughter rang out, saturating the ground with their icky smell. No. No. No. The small apprentice shivered, staring with narrowed eyes, teeth bared. Didn’t they get rid of them all? Hadn’t—Littlepaw flinched, imagining the pain he’d succumbed to, forgotten by the surge of adrenaline until he collapsed, weak and sensitive.

“Come on, kid! We’re hungry! Just give us the mouse and we’ll let you go scotch-free!” A bulky black-furred tom spoke beside a fawn-tabby molly, circling the kit-sized apprentice. Shaking his helm, Littlepaw tucked into himself, expression determined, hugging the mouse tight to his chest. “Shouldn’t be here.” Finding his voice, Littlpaw sneered. “Go away!” He shouted, baby blue hues blazing with untethered rage. “Get out of here!” He snapped, hissing, hackle rising along the length of his spine until he looked like a prickly bush, ears flush against a scarred helm.

“Awwww. I didn’t want to, butttt I guess we’ll just have to take it by force!” The same tom cackled, lunging at the spitting apprentice, claws ripping into tattered fur drawing a blood-curdling shriek from the apprentice, limbs locking until he burrowed his head beneath quivering paws, biting his tongue to suppress the sharp whines.

Teeth and claws rained down on his compact form, Littlepaw lashed out blindly, nipping at outstretched forelimbs and hooking into fur with no proper method.

/ out on a hunting patrol, littlepaw chases a mouse near the twolegs border to witness two rogues trespassing. refusing to give up the mouse he caught, the rogues take matters into their own hands by attacking rip leads to some nasty wounds, but he'll make a recovery

whoever responds can chase / kill them off ! whatever floats your boat ! take creative action ! also tagging his mentor @Dogbite ​

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thought speech​

 

[TIGERSCAR]

BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS​

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[[warning for graphic depiction of injury and death]]

The hunting patrol was going alright, he thinks. Especially now that he didn't have that bulky cone collar around his neck. Tigerscar has once more returned to the trees, sweeping like a shadow through the pine needles. He snares a robin without much effort, the plump, feathered thing resting quiet on a branch. Death is instant, unseen and unheard, and the huge tabby drops back to the ground to show his catch to the rest of the patrol. That's when it hits him, the smell of blood, the sound of a struggle.

Ears prick as the fur along his neck bristles, a low growl bubbling past his fangs. He drops the bird without a second thought, talons tearing into leaf litter and dry soil. Without a word to his fellow patrol members, Tigerscar spins in place and takes off like an arrow from a taut bowstring. He rips through the trees, a racing blur of earthen hues. There, amidst the undergrowth, a tangle of limbs, a rush of rogue-scent. Adrenaline thrums in his ears and his heart rate soars. Closer, closer...

From the bush, the titan lunges, feline claws raking into skin and flesh as he crashes headlong into one of the rogues. A fierce snarl rips past his maw, fangs glinting and spittle flying a moment before he clamps those ruthless jaws around the side of his opponent's face, ripping an ear, tearing an eye-socket, shredded a muzzle. A screech, a struggle, the prey bucking beneath the predator in agonizing desperation. A rush of glee fills the tabby warrior as he strikes again, like an adder, clamping teeth around the side of the neck, a low chuckle rising past his snapping jaws.

The second rogue has turned away from the little apprentice now, eyes piercing Tigerscar's frame with shock and fury. The first rogue is critically wounded, blood spilling from a split throat, where threads of flesh struggle to hold back a tide of hot maroon. He gapes and gasps for breath, gurgles past his own blood, twitches in place where he writhes across dirt and grass. By that point, the second rogue had slammed into Tigerscar, slashing nails across the Daylight Warrior's nose...
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[APPLEFROST]

Pleasantly average at best when it came to these types of patrols, Applefrost's maw was still empty from any successes herself while they padded along. Littlepaw had darted off to chase the scent of a mouse, Tigerscar had earned himself a robin. The more successes made the slimmer the chances were for her before the area was far too stained with preyblood for any left to remain.

However, despite the shortcomings the flame pointed molly did not appear stressed but rather her usual mellow self. Confident that her chance would come eventually.

"That one looks great, Tigerscar. How are you coming along @BEAR ?" She turned a wide pale gaze to her rogue apprentice an echoing shriek ripped through the air. Applefrost acted before thinking, following behind Tigerscars trail with a fiery huff to see Littlepaw under attack.

"Stay away from him!" The molly yowled, taking the chance to strike her claws against the remaining rogue. Her assault tore through fur and flesh, the outsiders flank flooding crimson. Long fur was fluffed in menacing spikes that scored down her back, her tail lashing as she lunged with teeth this time. She clutched her jaws around its neck and flung it away from her and Tigerscar, making a threatening step closer as it crashed on its side.

"One of you get Littlepaw and bring him back home. NOW!" She demanded to whichever Clanmates remained that didn't already have their paws blooded. She glanced to Tigerscar with an affirmative nod, ready to keep fighting.​

 

[BEAR]

A decently sized mouse dangles from his jaws. Considerations of the forested environment are new to him, twolegplace his primary former residence didn't have quite to much greenery, and not many, if any trees, the cracking under his paws occasionally scaring prey off, which has him casting blue eyes somewhere else in disappointment. The disheveled tom follows several paces behind, leery of the group, he's regarding Applefrost with suspicion very blatantly. Through his experience he's somehow certain the whole clan thing is going to sour, he's going to wake up one day and be more scarred than before. He's tuning out what's happening socially, communicating perhaps one of his poorest skills. "Great." Is gruffed out stiffly, before the sound has his body thick with tension, claws shooting out into the soft dirt underfoot, his legs work quickly, propelling him towards the noise. His ears flat against his skull. Defending anyone hasn't been anything relevant to him these days. Back when he had his siblings, he would cast up his spine, bare his teeth and rip and tear his way out of a situation for them. It's been himself he's been keeping safe, an arduous task he's not sure he's ever managed.

Littlepaw being at the mercy of strangers reminds him of another, once much younger face, and he can't help but respond the same way. If it's one thing he's knows, one thing he's known way his whole life, it's fighting. If it's another thing he knows, it the feral outcomes of rogue life. The mournful look that's taken up residence on his face for a very long time, is enveloped by something different. Falling into a fighting stance is easy. Bright, wild eyes flit across the opposing rogues, he opens his mouth to show off his white, sharp teeth.

Bear's maw and the long scar across his nose wrinkle with the sudden aggression. When Applefrost tosses the rogue, he's ready, claws set to batter and hurt. He bores down at the vulnerable feline, claws spiking and sailing across, jaws gnashing and clamping. When the rogue twists to try and lift it's battered body up he lowers himself to clamp his teeth around his neck, warmth spilling down his chin, dredging the bottom of his shaggy paws. Tremors grasp him when he stumbles back. It's not an unfamiliar scenario for him, but the thought that they lived like him, they are like him and they just killed them makes him sick, he sees himself in the dying eyes. He glances over at the other dead rogue who's been viciously killed, ducks his head away. Chest heaving with the effort, the reminder he's never going to be free of fighting, he's never going to be free from the warm blood pooling has the world deafened. He's able to do little more than stare at the apprentice.
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[CHRYSALISWING]

Chrysaliswing trailed like a darting shadow of the river after the hunting patrol, infernal oranges merely a blur upon a stealthy form built upon hubris and twilight. Before this, he simply followed as though a reluctant penumbra behind the moon, never once seizing the spotlight from the glow. He simply wanted to be done with the patrol. It was the same humdrum to the warrior - catch prey and return it to the clan whose bellies never seemed to fill. The cold winds of leaf-fall snipped at velvet coat as if it were dragging him along in its frivolous and flighty game, which he had seen once before. It was strange to compare himself to his first leaf-bare, though nothing much had truly changed. He was still the same cat, unfortunately for everyone.

Now, he cursed the shriek that tore through the forest as the tangerine-chested robin laughed at him as it fled on sprightly wing. I'll catch you the next time I see you, feathered rat. He scorned the bird within his mind, though that droplet of hatred dribbled from his mind as the fresh morning dew did to the bowed leaf. The rest of the patrol scurried away before he could, so he simply pursued them from the back.

Chrysalis came upon a gory scene conducted by a crueler kind. Tigerscar (who honestly scared Chrysalis, and he couldn't say that for most of the ilk that crossed his line of sight) had his jaws clamped upon one poor rogue. Like a viper to the mouse, he kept his venomous fangs in until sanguine rushed from beneath. Threads of sinew, like delicate strings, held back a tide of red. Disgusting, though I expected nothing less from a rogue-born cat. That's what they deserve for getting so close to the clans.

"Get up, @LITTLEPAW! . Get your ass back to camp or I'll let the rogues finish their business." Came the gruff voice that was usual for the chimaera-pelted tom, training mismatched eyes upon the younger steed, as though burning coals followed to set misfortune alight. Despite the harsh words, he crouched down to allow the weight of the smaller apprentice upon his own, a throbbing sort of tenderness that he usually never afforded any cat. It was brief, momentary, a hummingbird breath. He wasn't an asshole all the time - he understood when cats needed help and when it was unfair to ask for retribution. That was what being a warrior was, and something most of his clan didn't understand. Cowardice and pride would be their downfall. He watched how Bear and Tigerscar and Applefrost chased the rogues away. If he could get Littlepaw back to camp in time, he would rejoin the fight. For now, his claws stayed within their sheaths.
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[LITTLEMOON]

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

Littlepaw winced, wounds stinging from the onslaught of wicked claws and sharp teeth puncturing his skin like soft moss, mouse still tucked against him with unwavering stubbornness. It was foolish, but the apprentice was tired and he wanted it to just go away. He hated them. His breath shuddered, reeling away from the sudden loss of claws to stare at Tigerscar’s monstrous frame tearing into the rogue in a heartbeat, blood splattering the ground like falling rain nearly made Littlepaw gag if it wasn’t for the harsh swallow that made his limbs stiffen.

He could hear Applefrost’s voice over the muffled sound, ear-splitting against the sharp ring, helm whipping to peer at Chrysaliswing’s words, tumbling onto shaky paws with a sharp wounded hiss, stumbling into the other, tail curling against his flank with a hiss, teeth bared, not at the other, but at the rogues, mouse tucked against his chest.

The black-and-white tom nearly buckled, but he flat-out refused help. He wasn’t weak. He was fine! Just—Littlepaw winced, heart palpitating in fear at the horrible sounds reverberating off of his eardrums, shattering whatever serenity the forest offered before.

With a stumble, Littlepaw managed to get away away. He couldn’t stare at the sight, expression pinched. He limbed, chest heaving with each stride, wanting to get away from it. He wanted to go home. Why did they have to be here? Couldn’t they just have left them alone? It didn’t make sense. He nearly face planted a few times, carrying himself further away, but still determined to do it on his own despite the swell of blood beading along open wounds, blood mixing with white fur and staining it a punish hue.

/ littlepaw refused help and managed to get away from the fight ! doesn't have major wounds, but he's in shock rip ​

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thought speech​

 

[DOGBITE]

✦ Dogbite had been in camp most of that day, cleaning out his old nest, replenishing it with something new, sharing tongues with friends, and playing the role of kit-sitter for a time. On days like this, he usually stayed put, but something urged him to get his vitals pumping. A strange restlessness that had plagued him throughout his tasks. Well, a hunting patrol did just leave. Maybe I can play catch up. Casting a last glance at the fresh-kill pile, he decided belatedly to join the patrol. They haven't been out for too long now. Just need to play catch up. Pushing his way through the exit, the scarred tabby picked up the trail easily and was pleased to note they weren't far. His momentary relief strangled itself to silence as a cry ripped through the air.

His blood froze to ice, and his spine prickled. Not good. Without wasting another moment, the warrior shot off, fur pressing back from the force and paws gliding over the uneven terrain. Once he finally stumbled across the horrifying mess, their stomach lurched with disbelief, and his pelt chilled with cooling sweat. Despite the gore strung about, they easily made out the form of Tigerscar, bounding after the rogues. Chyrsaliswing's warning lured his gaze in that general direction as the battered form of Littlepaw rushed by. Flabbergasted, their first instinct was to rush after the apprentice, but the sight of their brother and Applefrost was enough to hold them.

Eyeing the surrounding cats wildly, he asked in heated worry, facing Chyrsaliswing with raised hairs. "What the hell happened!" Rarely did Dogbite shout, but to him, it felt warranted. Taking another glance over his shoulder, he watched as the small frame of his student stumbled off. No, no, this isn't right. Shame and fear raked across his insides. How could I let this happen again! Gritting their teeth, the scruffy Skyclanner made his choice. He isn't going to make it back. Not in that condition. Hastily, they turned and dashed off, heart thrumming to life with nerves as he hoped to stop the petrified youth.

•°.⋆ INFO

• ooc ; chased after littlepaw and did not engage in the fight!
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  ✧ 30 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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