camp UNSUNG &. OTTERS IN CAMP

[RIVERCLAN]

the day is clear. newleaf thaws the ice that hangs heavy from willow leaves, leaving them to drip silently to the damp grass underfoot. riverclanners are milling about their temporary camp, blearily beginning the day as dawn patrols are assigned. a few cats work to patch temporary dens, digging about the outskirts of the copse camp for material. despite the strange, small claw marks along the lower beech trunks, there is a calm quiet about the chill newleaf air, idle chatter and laughter strong.

that is, until a strange noise sounds, accompanied quickly by a scent, bitter and angry.

the riverclanners have only a moment to process as from the undergrowth a long, sleek creature can be seen, gaping maw wide and hissing, spittle clinging to the carnivorous edges of its small, numerous teeth.the otter slinks fluidly from damp leaves and the rotting wood of its holt, claws leaving marks in the pebbled ground underfoot and before the clanners can think, aims to attack the closest feline, attempting to sink its teeth into wherever it can. it’s belly sags, a new mother, reeking of milk and fury.

there are more behind.

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attacking @Catfishpaw !!

oh no! riverclanners have stumbled upon a an otter holt on the fringe of the copse, and they are infiltrating camp! what will the riverclanners do: will they lure them away? will they fight? decide, and quickly!

there are three grown otters altogether: a mother, two adolescents and one baby still in its holt. feel free to powerplay attacks / character injuries realistically and within reason, it will take at least two cats to take one down! for every four posts made, an otter will be defeated — good luck!​

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[Catfishleap]

❝ where the angels sing ✧°.☀ ———————————— If she was going to be honest Catfishpaw hadn't minded the temporary camp all that much, like it wasn't great, but it was an adventure. But, even so she had been feeling a little uneasy the last few days, the camp seemed less safe than usual. This feeling started when she had noticed the faintest footprint in the mud near the river. She hadn't told anyone because truthfully she didn't want to be mistaken and have it just be a disfigured cat print, but if she had known what was about to happen perhaps she would have felt more inclined to cough up that small bit of information.

Sitting next to some undergrowth Catfish was just about to get up and collect some materials for dens when the peaceful morning turned to battle, and she was the first victim.

Before she could even smell or see what was trying to grab her she felt teeth gripping into her haunch, it buckled itself into her and she let out a cry before franticly trying to swat and bite at whatever had grabbed ahold. There isn't much time for thought and she could not for the life of her remember any of her training as she more flails than fights. The stinging still ever present.

[penned by user - [tags☀]]

———————————— ☀.°✧ we're mixing up milk and honey ❞ ​

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[hyacinthbreath]

She hears it, the sound of angry chittering from something she's never seen before. In all her years of life, she's never dealt with an enemy like this. A cat, she could deal with- she could fight it off with no problem, evident by Juniperfrost's untimely yet rightfully deserved demise. Her tail lashes behind her as otters storm the camp, Hyacinthbreath spotting an apprentice in the distance getting attacked and ultimately darting to go rescue them.

"Catfishpaw! Claws! Use your claws! Go for the eyes!" She calls as she runs, finally launching herself onto the otter in an attempt to begin trying to pull them off of the apprentice. "Attack on the camp! Mein Konig!" It's a scream, loud and worried as she tries to tug the otter off. She couldn't do this alone- she couldn't.. Couldn't let Catfishpaw die. "Get off of her!"​

❝ there are wounds inside me, gaping holes of disconnect.
can you drown inside your own body? can you suffocate within this mind? ❞

 

[Redpath]

It was a beautiful day with a gentle breeze and Redpath couldn't be happier. A perfect day for a swim, to go fishing. Such was what she had been doing, and having caught a fish, she was returning to camp to add it to the pile.

Just in time, it seemed. She heard a cry nearby that sent her fur standing and her eyes wide. Dropping the fish, she raced towards the noise. She had never encountered an otter before. Today would be her first.

Seeing Catfishpaw in it's grasp sent her into a frenzy. That was her apprentice, she would protect her with her life! Teeth bared into a nasty snarl and claws slipped from their sheaths as she let out a gutteral growl. She lunged for the otter, hoping she and Hyacinthbreath could drive it back.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!!!" She screeched, going to claw at it's eyes.

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[DARTERWING]

(=^･ｪ･^=))ﾉ彡♡ — When the alarms sounded she had been touching up on her claws. It was often practice for her to keep them filed down into the perfect angel, they were made pretty but still retained their purpose as dangerously sharp weapons. What she hadn’t expected was to bloody them up again so quickly.

Otters. She’s seen these water-weasels before during late Green-leaf, never before has she seen them this aggressive! Cats fish paw is attacked, but warriors including her mentor are quick to her aid. Darterwing’s worries are immediately suppressed, confident that they’ve got this under control.

That is until she sees three more emerge from behind the scuffle, a gasp of alarm sounds from her mouth, ”More of them! Look out!” She shrills before charging forward to take on the both of them. It was a dangerous move but it was better her as a land fighter than some other RiverClanner try to take them on! Her skills on land were far superior and for once she had the advantage over her peers in the wetlands.

Darterwing aims to slam into one with her shoulder to knock it off course before visciously lunging for the second otter’s scruff. If she is not aided she will certainly succumb to peril, within seconds she could be flat on the ground being torn to shreds.— tags​

 

[FERNGILL]

It was becoming almost commonplace for RiverClan's camp to descend into a violent torrent of chaos at one shift of a moment- one flip of fortunes. The collapse of the apprentices' den, and now- now this, din rising like a storm, swirling around him. Otters- he'd only seen them from afar, before. Snarling things, weasel-like, long- and these ones were mad. One lunged for Catfishpaw, and for a moment Fernpaw was inclined to run to her aid- but more seasoned warriors got there first. To Darterwing, then, did his attention shift- the warrior needed aid, and- and he wouldn't be much, but there was something he could do, surely, surely-

Barreling forward with reckless abandon, he lunged to the warriors aid. Sparring against other cats had never been his strong suit, and he wasn't particularly strong... but if he stayed out of reach, he could surely attempt some form of an attack. At least with diminished size came a little bit of speed- and in a clumsy but overall successful movement, Fernpaw attempted to fasten his tiny jaws around the tail of one of the otters that Darterwing was attacking. It wasn't much, but... hopefully it might rein it in and make it easier for a warrior to really take it down.​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[Cindershade]

A simple day it had been, the hustle and bustle of camp a steady white noise that buzzed in her ears. She had been helping reinforcing the dens after her morning patrol, for some reason a gnawing anxiety had been prickling at her stomach and not allowing her to settle. The woman weaves in more bramble, quietly keeping to herself near the gorge when commotion grates her ears. Hyacinthbreath's screech it high and piercing, calling of an attack. Cindershade's neck snaps quickly towards the source, muscles working of a well oiled machine before her mind can react. Sleek creatures were ramping about, skittering and attacking cats. Otters—? She had also seen these weasel-like creatures plenty of times, flapping about in the water and using rocks to pry open clams. What were they doing in their camp and more importantly, why were they being so aggressive?
Her virdian irises dilate, pupils forming into pinpoint slits while she bounds across the camp. A heavy snarl tears out of her throat as she launches, thick muscle rippling under her rosetted features as she aims to slam down hard onto one of the adolescent otters that Darterwing had shouldered out if the way, razor tipped claws taking seige against oily fur. She uses her body mass' momentum, anchoring her claws so she can pull try to pull it further away from her clan mates. It thrashes about wildly as she hangs on strongly. "Filthy vermin! May darkness consume you!" Spittle and venom spews from her own mouth, black lips pulled back tightly to show ivory fangs. The otter manages to take hold of her own fore limb, biting down and puncturing through muscle and flesh.
The shaded warrior hisses when jolts of pain shoots up her limb immediately like bolts of electricity. Her heart thunders wildly against her ribcage, threatening to best right out of chest. She jerks her limb back, losing her grip upon the otter but does not yield. She's clashing with the mammal again, this time aiming to latch her own jaws against it's scruff while digging claws back into it's oily flesh.
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[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]​

 

[CLAYFUR]

Clay has never been an especially quick thinker—evident by the way that he doesn’t realize what’s going on until he hears the shouting of Hyacinth, Redpath’s batlike shrieking, and a warning from Darterwing. He rushes over to join his clanmates, hackles already raised—his eyes go wide when he sees otters, more than one of them, attacking and being attacked by RiverClan cats. "Shit!" He scrambles back a few steps, narrowly avoiding a clanmate that surges past him. Oh, there’s more.

For just a moment he has the presence of mind to be glad that the otters are attacking on dry land—he’s much more capable with all four paws on the ground than in water. He doesn’t have much time to be grateful, though, because he spots Fernpaw latching himself to the tail of an otter, and his vision tunnels to just one thing. His nephew, old enough to defend himself but young enough that he shouldn’t have to. For a moment the brown tabby is frozen, a bolt of fear striking somewhere in his chest, and then the cry of an otter somewhere spurs him into action. His paws move without permission—Clayfur aims to drive his full weight into the flank of the otter that Fernpaw is attacking, hoping to dig in with his claws.
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

the deputy is quick upon the scene, the splitting call of hyacinth alerting her to the new dangers. it always seemed to be something. days could only be so calm as of late. her claws are unsheathed and wild hisses fill the air, a threatening show to the otters. uncharacteristically hostile, and buck can only assume it is due to the colony encroaching upon nesting grounds. she cannot blame them, but she cannot let them tear her warriors to shreds.

buck is aware of how careful she must be, there is a slowly adding weight to her and she has no choice to but to think before blindly rushing in. but there isn't much time, and buck ends up latching her wild and haunted fangs into the oiled furs of an otter making its way to its kin, having been shouldered out of the way by darterwing. her head thrashes wildly to tear into the skin and pierce into muscle. the thigh of the otter is not the best place, but she strengthens her jaw upon it anyway. it should grab its attention further. leave the rest alone and pay more attention to the deputy, who lays siege upon it. she hears its wild screeches, and knows she had managed a good bite on it. but it does not stop the otter from trying to retaliate, swinging webbed claws in any direction it could. cindershade is upon its scruff, running harsh lines into its back. she tries to redirect the attention onto herself, cinder had already been bitten harshly.
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[hyacinthbreath]

Cats join the fight, Cindershade and Redpath helping her pry the otter off of Catfishpaw. Claws are ripping, blood being sent to and fro until the otter turns and snaps at Hyacinth; the silvery molly swinging her head away at the last moment to avoid getting yet another facial wound. No, thank you.

It takes a little longer, but the otter finally lets go and Hyacinthbreath is quick to attempt to pull Catfishpaw close to her by her scruff. "Chase it off! It let go!" She shouts, standing over the apprentice protectively as Cindershade and the others begin to push back the first otter- a mother, apparently, from the size. She could relate, the fierce motherly protectiveness. She'd kill for her kids, too- and she has.

// chasing off the first otter attacking catfishpaw!​

❝ there are wounds inside me, gaping holes of disconnect.
can you drown inside your own body? can you suffocate within this mind? ❞

 

[DARTERWING]

(=^･ｪ･^=))ﾉ彡♡ — Fernpaw joins her in the fight against the adolescent otter, Clayfur follows up shortly after, charging into it. It was stunned by the attack of the three cats, all of them focusing on different areas of its body. It’s claws thrash about and manage to land a blow against Darterwing’s shoulder, in an instant she feels blood bead against the wound and begin to trickle.

She spits out otter fur as her own claws aim to rake against its belly. It squirms and wiggles against the three cats attacks. The inexperienced adolescent spots its mother attempting to flee and follows suit. Darterwing knows they must give chase so they are not tempted to regroup and attack again, paws sprint after it.

//since power play perms were given and plenty of posts have been made i had the otter Clay, Fern, and Darter were attacking run off! Someone is free to cancel it if not allowed. Darter is running after in case it were to try again and she can be joined in chase — tags​

 

[DARKWHISKER]

what started out as a peaceful day, chatter filling the warm newleaf air, is broken by the angry chittering hidden within the undergrowth. darkpaw doesn't notice at first, preoccupied with telling a story to some of his denmates, until catfishpaw screams. the chocolate-furred tom scrambles to his paws, his short coat bushing out in surprise. something is attacking catfishpaw, right in the middle of the makeshift camp... a place where riverclan shouldn't have to worry about danger, but it has found them anyway.

it's long and weasel-like, with sleek fur and beady black eyes that glint harshly in the sunlight. otter, darkpaw remembers houndstride warning him of the creatures once when they'd seen a couple out on a patrol. all around him, his clanmates shriek their battle cries, rushing past to lay claws and teeth on the intruder. two more otters slip from the undergrowth to join the first in battle, and darkpaw shouldn't have thought twice about following the warriors. he shouldn't have looked at the two smaller otters, seemingly younger than the other, and hesitated. he shouldn't have felt any shred of doubt. a mother and her children... foolishly, he doesn't want any harm to come to them.

a mother and her children. she's probably just trying to defend her pups like any mother would do. riverclan would do the same, wouldn't they? i don't want to hurt them, he repeats in his mind, shell-shocked and frozen, still bristling outside of the apprentices' makeshift den. she's just trying to protect her pups... he thinks it over and over until he's certain that's why.

but if he doesn't do something, his clanmates could get hurt.

fernpaw joins the fray, and that's what snaps darkpaw back to reality. if he doesn't do something, his brother could be hurt. these otters are fighting to protect their own, and darkpaw must do the same. with a meek yowl of his own, he charges the other adolescent yet to follow its sibling's retreat and attempts to ram himself into its side, not pulling out his claws just yet in a futile hope that he could deter it without. "please leave!" i have to protect my clan, but i don't want to hurt you if i can help it.​

 

[CICADASTAR]

chaos consumes them all too quickly. it seemed more common nowadays, to be forced from his den by the sound of screeching yowls and blood scent. he knew that scent — knew it immediately, the second it reaches his nose and sears into his brain. otter. otters. what were they doing here? they had never attacked for the sake of attacking, have never sought them out as prey, so why? the leader stumbles from his den, watches the flurry of fur and anger that sends one running back the way it came. long, sleek creatures, short limbs carrying them in a scurry back towards the undergrowth at the edge of their clearing. another remains, smaller than the one that had forced past their camp walls

darkpaw charges at the one that remains and it hits its long middle, curves the young otter at the side and forces another brittle hiss in his direction. slowly, he comes to the same conclusion as the apprentice — they must have been protecting something. a small family, angry and overprotective under newleaf warmth. the otter is stunned for all of a second, toppling onto its side before rearing its head back and attempting to latch onto the side of @DARKPAW ‘s face from its fallen position. he doesn’t see if it lands before the mottled river leader is running at it, skidding behind its other side to hook his teeth into the back of its neck. it stretches the raw skin on his maw, ripping pain searing up the left side of his face but he attempts a step back away from the apprentices den, feels the weasel - like creature flip it’s body around in his jaws. like an eel, he thinks — long and slippery, but armed with teeth and claw. he feels little feet dig into the lower part of his forelimbs, tiny claws scrabbling for purchase where it could.

the otter finally seems to maneuver, arching it’s neck around to bite his shoulder and the man gasps around the skin in his mouth, attempts to throw the creature off to the side with the little momentum he had, sends it toppling only a tail - length away. get it out. get it out. his shoulder bleeds lightly, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in his muzzle, his own fault. so much for resting.

− ♱ information out of character ⟐ visual reference translated ♱ −

• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
  m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.
  
  ᨒ gay, courting smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
  ᨒ speaks with a german accent. 40 moons, ages on the eighth.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
• none.

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[Catfishleap]

❝ where the angels sing ✧°.☀ ———————————— The searing pain of teeth ripping through her flesh was not a welcome one, but the yells of her clanmates were. She was in a mix of clawing at the ground and the furry body of the otter whenever it twisted near her. As soon as the warriors came however she turned her focus to just ripping her leg free, no matter the consequence. She shook and kicked until finally with the help of Redpath and Hyacinthbreath she forced the haunch from its grasp.

She hadn't been able to feel the warm blood when the leg was being bit, but now it streaked through her light fur. As she tried to sprint to a safer distance she felt the muscles in that leg give up on her as she tripped. With a wince she lifted by the scruff by one of her rescuers. There was a part of Catfishpaw that wanted to sink her own teeth into the neck of that otter, but all she can get out of her body is a couple hisses in the direction of the fleeing mother and then some low growls, and heavy breath. "Thank... you" she just barely manages to say between her gritted teeth.

[penned by user - [tags☀]]

———————————— ☀.°✧ we're mixing up milk and honey ❞ ​

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[CLEARSIGHT]

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➵ Otters. Predators. In the camp — stars above.

Clearsight lunges from his spot near the edge of camp, where he'd taken a moment to rest and think, alone — lunges toward the sounds of screeching and howling, toward the scent of blood — so much for the moment's peace. He's snarling, muscles rippling beneath scarred tabby fur as he lunges, powerful hind legs propelling him across the camp. The heart of a battle in their home —

Fuck —

Their littlest ones aren't in the nursery anymore; tucked up in the apprentices' den are at least eight kittens just four moons old, barely weeks into their training — Willowroot and Boneripple's litters — easy prey for an otter, he thinks, heart pounding. But they're apprentices now, expected to fight. Not to be coddled anymore, no matter how his instincts suggest otherwise. Still Clearsight lands in front of the den with all hackles raised, turning to face the battle that rages outside it. He'll lunge for the closest otter, hoping to drive it away from the apprentices' den, away from camp completely, tearing at fur and muscle with teeth and claws extended.
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& we've all got battle scars ✗ ​

//um every otter is being fought rn and i wasn't sure where to put clearsight so u can say he's wherever