camp VENGEANCE COLD BENEATH MY TEETH — invasion

[rivewhisper]

Granitepelt is slimey, in the way her stomach coils in disgust at his words. A fierce snarl was returned as she had leaned in for the advantage, but claws caught the right side her jaw, knocking her head up and away. Firefang took her place as she danced backwards, blood dripping from her jaw. It stung, but not like the wound on her belly, or the one creasing her eye. It stung, but nothing would hurt more then losing kits.

Granitepelt was already lost in the throng, against Scorchstreak, and then- sharp, owl blue eyes turned as the sun crested and dove for the very cat who had attacked her. She inhaled sharply, vision turning away. Sunstar could handle his own. That much she knew from their training, from inherent trust in her father. He could handle himself. Rivewhisper's ears perked, twisting and turning for any opponent, and judging by the stream of cats heading towards the nursery, she could see the target in mind.

Just as her eyes dipped away from her father did she notice the red in the corner of her eye. The blood spilt upon the ground. Sharp eyes turned back towards the visceral matter upon the ground, her father's body slumping over. Rage. Rage is what began to overcome her, but terrifying fear gripped her next. Dust clouded upwards as his body crashes into the ground, and Rivewhisper stops hearing. She stops listening for a terrifying moment. And again, again it feels like heat, fire like heat presses down all around them, ash on her tongue, and Bearflight is standing nearby. He is watching on.

Trembling paws make for her father. She reaches him first, and the screech the bears into the night, much like her initial signal, is harrowing. "WOLFSONG!" She cries out, blue eyes snapping around for her other parent. "Please, please, please." Rivewhisper finally managed, voice cracking as she fell at her father's side. There was so much red around her as she dropped to her stomach, paws uselessly nudging at her father. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to do.

The second scream that left her was heart-shattering, a wail of a daughter losing her father, despite knowing Starclan may return him. Despite knowing he may live, she doesn't think she'll ever grow used to him dying like this. Who's daughter could? Rivewhisper's eyes were full of tears, and whilst she was already grieving, crying, she could feel the stirrings of murderous anger in her stomach.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── AND ITS BEEN SO LONG THAT IM ⋅❁⋅ FORGETTING WHAT IT FEELS LIKE ──┐‎

• "speech"
  / open to any last duskclanner attacks! (rev when i get u)
  

• 

• RIVEWHISPER she/her, moor runner of windclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ LH broken braided chocolate tabby with high white and piercing blue eyes. scars stretch over her left eye and across her stomach. graceful, sleek, average height. built for running and stamina
  ⭃ mentored by snakehiss / sunstar / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ small romantic interest in redheart / / sibling to featherspine ; sunlitwing ; bearflight ; singedpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Dustpaw!]

So much sound. An overwhelming amount of sound, yowling makes her ears ring and there's so much of it and all she can do is shrink to the back of the nursery frightened and angry. She's a puff of bristled white fur, teeth shining in the dim light as hisses screech from her to keep anyone who get's close away even those she knows and loves because she can't recognize them as easily anymore not with so many strong scents flooding into the nursery. Strangers are trying to come in, she hears her aunt fighting and a tom's angry voice close to her and she smells something metallic and wrong suddenly become much stronger. She shrinks even further back, she hears paw steps coming in and a paw would swipe out claws extended and she'd hit nothing.

She thinks her brothers are close and she'd felt Vulturekit close to her before the fighting broke out but she can't feel him anymore and she doesn't know where he's gone. She wants her dad she's so useless there's nothing she can do it's too overwhelming more then the fire. She'd been trying to sleep everything had been normal! She doesn't know what's going on now, why there's so much fighting or who these cats are (she's heard of Duskclan heard of the war her dad had told her as gently as they could understand it) but she'd never thought she'd meet them. That they'd try to attack them, and attack the nursery specifically.

Her back stays arched, her tail a puffed up plume of smoke; another fierce hiss cries from her to warn anyone back as the world swirls in chaos around her unseeing eyes.

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  

• "speech"

• 

  Dustkit ✩ She/Her, Windclan Kit, 4 moons
  ⭃ short furred black smoke she-cat with high white and cloudy green eyes (blind)
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

​

 

[RUMBLERAIN]

Gravelsnap stills for a moment, and Rumblerain pauses. It's over. Is it over? Oh, StarClan- claws hook against their flank, the WindClanner surging forward, and Rumblerain yowls. The wound isn't as bad as they feel it is at first, but the shock of it forces an almost strangled sound from their throat. They try to knock Gravelsnap's claws away, slinking close to the moor-runner, hoping that this time they'd stay on the ground of the camp.

"Stay. Down." The pointed cat hisses, almost pleading. Harebrained cat. Can't Gravelsnap see that the more they struggle, the worse they'll bleed? WindClan has a medicine cat. They'll be fine.

They miss the scuffle between Granitepelt and Sunstar, so focused they are on their own combat, but Rumblerain realises suddenly that there are a lot more cats in camp than there were a few moments ago. An ambush? The Gathering, ended early? The wrong night? Battle-breath forces their paws into motion and Rumblerain follows the order of retreat. They're too close to the back of camp to take anything but their own life with them, and so they do: Rumblerain disappears into the gorse with a flick of their tail, leaving behind nothing but a bloodied pawprint trail and tufts of fur in the camp walls as they try to scale the side of the hollow as quickly as possible.

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦

• — engaging with @GRAVELSNAP, out!
  
• 
  
  [ art by antiigone ]
• RUMBLERAIN ✧ they/them, deputy of duskclan
  
  
  — "a lanky, scruffy seal and white point with blue eyes."
  — single ; mentoring privetpaw
  — speech is in #D4882D
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Chaos wreathes around camp like the wildfire's smoke had; Bluefrost chokes on it, it's so visceral. She extends her claws and shreds the earth. She spots Sootspot ducking toward a tunnel entrance, sees Rivewhisper and Firefang swarm Granitepelt, sees Thriftfeather meet Periwinklebreeze's claws. Her throat constricts, her lungs contract, and she wants to scream. No. NO. She wants to distract them, and her paws begin to wander before a
THUD slams against the ground, sending a cloud of dust up to decorate golden fur.

Sunstar. Sunstar collapses, his throat wine-dark with blood, staggering on three aimless limbs, blue eyes lifeless and gray. Bluefrost watches im stagger and collapse, her mouth shaped, round. "Sunstar..." She is quick to join Rivewhisper, staring with blank but heavy green eyes. She gives the leader's daughter her space, instead lifting her gaze around camp. Would Thriftfeather escape? Would Wolfsong come, as bidden, to save his estranged mate? Her heart beats steadily, steadily, and she feels lightheaded; the scent of blood settles in her nostrils and stagnates.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[juncoclaw]

Junco is lucky. If she knew StarClan were on her side, she would thank them for their gift. She is weak and bloodied, barely standing and left to the mercy of her opposing DuskClanner, when a retreat call is rang into the darkness. As the stranger departs, Junco closes her eyes - what's left of them, anyway - and crumbles down to the dirt.

Her ears ring for several moments and finally give way to the sound of horror around them. She hears what she vaguely remembers to be Periwinklebreeze, an excuse for a warrior, speaking to his own opponent with a ferocity she couldn't imagine. Then she hears Firefang, one of Sootstar's warriors who had stayed behind, trailing after Granitepelt with a barrage of insults.

Somewhere in the fray lies Sunstar, dead. Junco opens one eye and stares right at him, seeing a pool of crimson seep out from his golden pelt between the flurry of running paws. Granitepelt has made a mockery of Sunstar this night. She'd thought the cat who had slain the Moor Queen herself to be more strong.

Her eye trails back up to Cottonpaw, if the molly still stands there. "Are - are you okay?" she questions bleakly. Junco could run, she thinks - amidst the chaos of it all, she may not be seen by either party. But her limbs feel weak and heavy, and as the adrenaline begins to drain from her veins, she feels a deep pain in her wounded eye, deeper than any pain she's felt before, spinning her head that feels like it pulses with fire. With a deep groan, Junco lets her head fall to the earth, allowing her good eye to stare into the stars above. Were they looking down at her now?
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• juncokit juncopaw JUNCOCLAW "JUNCO" ━━ penned by ixora
  ━━ BARNCAT
  ━━ 13 MOONS,, ages every 21st
  ━━ CASSO xx BUDGE
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to none | FORMERLY MENTORED by mockinggrin
  ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎ | junco is healthy.​
• 
  
  
• speech is #6a7d8a​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ Her guard is not down, but still the deputy is certainly not in her best fighting shape. Perhaps that is why she doesn’t spot the vile figure dashing toward her until a heavy weight crashes into her side. Blood flies, drips onto her own pelt as the devil himself leaps upon her, throwing her helplessly to the ground on her back. She kicks out at Granitepelt’s underbelly with sharp claws, but it does little to drive her aggressor away, and as he roars his fury into her face, time seems to slow. She is a bird, broken-winged, pinned by a warrior who will not hesitate to end her life because she’s weak.

This is not the first time she has been pinned by a tom much stronger than her. It is not the first time she has looked into the crazed eyes of a king whose crown is crumbling even as it sits atop his head. The only difference is that, this time, she does not fear the death that will surely follow. Her life may end on a night that is supposed to be peaceful—and perhaps it is peaceful, still, because Scorchstreak is not afraid—but at least it will have meaning. She will be murdered in her own home, in front of all the cats she cares about who are left—but at least she will have died for something. At least there will be a body for her clanmates to bury, to cover in flowers and mourn. And at least… she will get to see Bluepool again in a field of endless starlight.

The tom snarls at her, hot breath billowing across her face. His words mean nothing—she will regret nothing. Her true leader… If there weren’t claws digging into her shoulders, she would laugh. Her true leader is not Sootstar, and it is certainly not Granitepelt. If she is to meet her death at the jaws of this delusional cretin, then she will do so bearing only one cat’s mark upon her chest. Her true leader is—

"SUNSTAR!" The shout leaves her mouth unbidden as a dappled form, coat pitched shadowy in the darkness, topples Granitepelt’s weight off of her in a single movement. The touch of death never meets her throat, but still the deputy lies stunned for a heartbeat. When she rises, it is only to see the terrible fray of the two toms. Locked into a fierce battle, the leaders of their respective factions roll over and over in a scattering of blood and fur—until abruptly, it stops. Sunstar falls still, his throat spilling a river of blood across brilliant golden fur. Granitepelt retreats, but Scorchstreak does not care for him. He is worthless, a wretch just as the smoky she-cat before him had been. Damn ShadowClan and damn Sunstar’s promise—she will have his head when they meet next.

But now… Now, she watches another life ended as she stands helpless to do anything. Another fire sputtering out, suffocated by fate’s cruel spinning. The leader’s form is knocked aside by Granitepelt, and the deputy’s paws are spurred swiftly into action. Golden eyes fly wide as she races to her leader’s side. Get up get up get up-

The words are a chant within a muddled mind—but the deputy cannot bring herself to lay a paw on Sunstar’s still form. She had… she had done this. He had saved her, and for his trouble he was killed. For her. Another corpse laid at her feet, another pair of empty eyes staring into the nothingness above… did she do this, just as surely as Granitepelt did? Had the rosetted tom still found her worth saving, after her outburst? After all she’d accused him of… "Sunstar. Get up. I won’t leave you this time—just get up." Her voice is quiet, stiff with guilt as she watches Rivewhisper attempt to rouse her father.

☽♰☾ IT WAS WAR, IT WASN’T FAIR

• ooc: —
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡ Frightkit had looked forward to this day! The day her 'Appa would return and whisk her whole family away, to stay together at last! She'd often dreamed of what it'd be like to have her whole family together, uninterrupted by secrets and borders. Maybe she'd even convince Rowanpaw, Periperiperi and the kits to join them, but honestly, all Frightkit needed were her parents and littermates. One happy family, just like 'Appa promised. When 'Appa came, as he often whispered he would after she was forced time and again to leave his tight embrace, things would be better.

Peeking out of the nursery, Frightkit let out a cry of joy as she watched cats that smelled like her 'Appa charging into camp- a rescue team! Searching the crowd as best she could despite the flying fur and the distracting screaming for dark coated fur, Frightkit was almost afraid her 'Appa would break their promise to her - but no! Here they were at last! Appearing like a cooling shade after a blistering heat, her appa stood tall and strong before the nursery, all teeth and smiles. They were here! They were here!

But before Frightkit could run into his embrace, Nightgalecry suddenly stepped before her. Shock whitened her already intensely pale eyes as she bounced back and forth, trying to hear the conversation her parents were having. It didn't sound good. Why where they arguing? Why'd mamma hit him!? Frustration simmered in her gut, it was all she could do to hold back a scream! Just like how Nightgalecry wouldn't demand Sunstar let Frightkit be apprenticed early - again her mamma was determined to shatter Frightkit's dreams!

Frightkit mewled for their attention, hissing in irritation as Rattleheart and Periwinklebreeze's screaming cut in the way of her attempts to get their attention. "Mamma, lets go with them! Mamma, please! " but all she got for her efforts was a kick in the crossfire, sending her stumbling back as her parents fought.

Her gut burning with anger, her sight red with the smog of it, she sat back and glared at her parents - at her mamma! She was tired of the cats she hoped would stay refusing to! She was tired of the only ones she cared about always being driven away!
And then, her mom raised a paw towards her 'Appa's throat.

"Don't hurt 'Appa! " she had screamed, impulsive and whiny. Finally, her mamma listened. Turning those pale eyes back towards the kit she'd wished to name Boldkit, different colors aglow with memories, passion, hope, and everything in between- all the makings of love. Frightkit had bitten her mamma's leg in response, digging her teeth in deep to force her mamma to let Ebonylight go.

Frightkit only releases her hold when her mamma suddenly drops her weight, collapsing to the ground and nearly dragging Frightkit down with her. The girl bounces up triumphantly, glad her mamma saw reason before her eyes locked on Nightgalecry's.

There was nothing there.

Frightkit blinked, squinted, and stared harder.
Nothing.

Lifting her attention back up, she met those of her 'Appa's, whose snake-like gaze were similar to her own intense moonlit ones. Ebonylight doesn't spare Frightkit more than a glower, before lunging back into the shadows. There wasn't anything in those eyes, either.

Frightkit sits back with a heavy plunk.

There is a moment in every troublesome child's life when the consequences of their actions finally hit. When no amount of looking cute and being sweet can fix what they'd done. Frightkit turns her attention back to her mother, whose ashen form lay crumpled, blood steadily pooling around her chin and neck. Frightkit feels something drain within her, too. A cold feeling weighs down her ears and widens her eyes, shock mingling with guilt, tightly clutched by a denial that refuses to fully accept hypothermia's slow climb from her paws to her nose.

"Mamma? " she asks, feeling her tail tuck itself between her legs as she nervously approaches the wide-eyed body. A question hangs on her lips, but her teeth are clacking too hard with her shivers to ask. She presses a paw on Nightgalecry's shoulder, shaking it lightly, but her mother neither blinks nor looks at her. Ice forms sharp against the walls of her chest, icicles prodding at Frightkit's lungs. Frightkit's mouth moves, but she doesn't know what to say.

Frightkit may not understand healing nor death as intimately as those older and wiser than her, but she knows, instinctively, when a cat is gone.
At the very least, Frightkit realizes that the light in her mamma's eyes, that passion and hope, and everything in between...is gone.

Swallowing thickly, Frightkit takes her spot, curling into her mother's neck and pressing her muzzle into her mama's cheek, uncaring of the blood that now soaks her own charcoal coat for her efforts.

With freezing dread, Frightkit realizes something worse than her mamma's death...

She'd lost her mamma's love.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/7/24

• 
  
• 
  " Speech "
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☾ Frightkit
  ☾ DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
  ☾ 6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☾ Windclan Kit
  ☾ Sister to Deathkit, Witherkit, Grasskit, Whitekit and Midnightkit
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☾Physically very easy | mentally very easy
  ☾ Attack in bold #1b1e21
  injuries: None

​

 

[PRIVETFROST]

Rowanpaw thrashed underneath Privetpaw's weight and weapon, contention of the estranged siblings that was more of a scuffle than a true fight, as Privet aimed to kill and Rowan aimed to escape. He clamped down a little harder, though it proved much harder to execute such a move on prey that wretched and writhed underneath him. Still, they were held back by their inexperience, and if he were not in combat then he would surely laugh at the weakness of the moorland's rats. Desperate claws raked at his face, and a screech erupted from his throat as he let go of Rowan's scruff, stinging pain that tugged at his cheek fluff. Something warm sweltered to his cheek, like heat barged and burst through thin skin. Wide eyes blinked for just a heartbeat's moment, as if he hadn't known that he weren't truly invincible until such ache had come seeking him. He aimed his talons for Rowanpaw's own half-toned face, as though he attempted to strike the eyes from ruddy and night sockets - if successful, he would at least leave a wound upon the other's features. Damn you, crowfood-eater! A hiss sprang from velvet maw.

Wine-dark apprentice primed himself to lunge at the Windclan cat once more before another body crashed into him, sending him rolling away from his opponent, unexpected quandary blooming and crawling through meticulous plan. Quickly did he pull himself back together and get up on his feet, though what he saw disgusted him to his very core. A wiry warrior stood in front of him with his own blades ready to draw sanguine, as though he had appeared before Privetpaw even had the moment to gasp. He seemed to be protecting his opponent, risking his life to ensure that she did not fall. How pathetic. Can your soldiers not even fight without an adult to hold their paw for them? He did not allow a sneer to creep onto angular countenance, but the temptation pricked along the ends of his mouth. The white-tipped Duskclanner stared serpentine at Mouseflight now, like a callous desire for bloodshed had overthrown any sort of sense for a moment, like there was no greater punishment for his spurning than death itself. Triangular ears shot upwards at Granitepelt's cry, the decree to retreat from these desolate lands.

"This is not over. You and your rotten, false kings will not be rid of me so easily. I swear it." Privetpaw yowled before he scrambled away into the darkness, to follow his leader back to whence they had emerged from.

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐂𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 ── X ── 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

• Out!
  
• 
• 

  —— PRIVETPAW / He/Him / 6 Moons
  —— Apprentice of Duskclan / Mentored by Rumblerain
  —— Wine-dark and white-tipped, almost like a magpie. He has black fur except for the tips of his ears, his muzzle and chin, a blaze on his chest, bottom portion of the legs, outer end of the tail, and along the upper ridges of eyes. He has ghost striping that can only be seen in certain sunlight. He has fern-green eyes.
  —— Cool, calculating, and much too mature for such a young age. Enamored with the life of a warrior and burdened by the expectations of his people. Hard to befriend and harder to maintain a steady friendship with.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[Brackenpaw]

Spending the majority of her life outside of Sootstars reign has provided certain comforts; the lack of knowing true bloodshed and carnage is a pillar of said comfort. Every sunrise has to meet it's sunset though, they're confronted with that knowledge in rapid succession. Blood is spilled alongside a cacophony of hissing, screaming and yelling so loud that it may as well make the stars ache even from the height of the sky. She has never witnessed death before, the closest they could attribute is when Firefang took that ShadowClan warrior's eye. That was a gnarled sight, they would give a lot to unsee it but this was a reality that they were going to have to accept. She wasn't a kit anymore, not that even being a kit in this current situation would uphold a virtue of innocence, not after tonight.

At first Brackenpaw thought it was some weird joke, that Sunstar would rise from where Granitepelt had sent him barrelling. Blood spraying as he was shoved away, it was a wound that she knew had to have been fatal but there was a refusal to accept it. Only when the dust begins to settle and her leader doesn't rise is when she realises that he won't be rising for a while now. They weren't sure how long things like this were to take, it wasn't in her field of knowledge but she hoped that it would be soon. They'd take back any biting remark against him they had if he would get up and ease Rivewhisper’s pained screaming. She's rooted to the ground, unable to leave that spot they had set themself up when she realises that admit the chaos Granitepelt has called retreat. They stare as Firefang attempts to pounce at him, shocked awe that she still had such an inferno of a spirit in her after such a heavy loss like this.

The apprentice realises that they're still at the exit, Bluefrost had left yet they didn't follow. Frozen in their spot up until this realisation is able to melt it enough for them to flex her paws in fleeting seconds of thought. They don't think they could defend it, not against a killer like him or the rest of DuskClan. The reality of their helplessness in this situation does not aid the rage builds up in her tiny frame, anger that these foxhearted lowlifes could come in here and bring so much destruction after they made their choice to leave.

As she stands there, trembling in anger over just how unfair this situation was she recalls Sootspot's words, if she wants justice then she must make her own. He probably didn't intend for it to be used as inspiration in a moment like this but it had struck a chord with her, if she wanted a difference to be made then they had to try to cause it, right? So as Granitepelt barrels past to make his leave for the exit she raises an unsheathed claw in an attempt to find carnage against his flank as he passes by. If successful its a short burst of violence, a hiss being sent his way before she leaves the position she took by the exit in an attempt to go make sure Frightkit hadn't been taken in the chaos.

---

‎‎ ‎┌── Im just a dog ⸙ with no bite ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  ooc. Attempting to scratch @GRANITEPELT as he leaves but is otherwise out!
  
•  
• BIOGRAPHY
  ✩ they/she, tunneler apprentice of Windclan, 7 moons (ages on the 22nd)
  ⭃ a lithe and fragile looking calico that looks like they still need to grow into her ears
  ⭃ Speech, thoughts, attacking
  ⭃ NPC x NPC, mentored by Bluefrost
  ⭃ easy to befriend other kits, gradually harder to befriend every rank after that
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  ⭃ All opinions are IC!! Bracken is a little hater
  

​

 

[Grasspaw]

𓆝 . ° ✦ Grasskit is awoken to yowling. Screaming, hissing, getting pushed to the side. Fear slammed into his chest, tightening it in panic. He whimpered out loud, eyes wide and round. Cats everywhere. StarClan, how were there so many cats everywhere? The fawn tabby bristled, puffed as big as he could get. Back arched as threateningly as he could be. Then, to his surprise, Ebonylight, a familiar sight. He has a horrible look on his face, not entirely unusual, but enough to cause ice through his veins. This wasn't right. None of this was right. Nightingalecry stood before them, shielding them with her body. He'd never seen his mother so afraid, even that first night they were brought to see 'Appa. Suddenly they were fighting, and Frightkit was yelling, and everything happened so fast he didn't even have time to think.

"Mama-" He croaked out, too late. Too late. He was too late. Slow, useless. She laid still. Frightkit, for once, was silent. Still. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Thornrunner grabbing for Thistlekit. Someone was... trying to get... I can help, I can help this one, he thought. He lunged forward, a not-so-scary snarl erupting from him. An attempt to sink claws into Thornrunner's hind leg, teeth wherever he can gain purchase. A swift but mostly useless attack, given Rattleheart's prompt, viscous following.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: Trying to attack @THORNRUNNER briefly
• 

  NAME — HE/HIM ･ 5 MOONS ･ KIT & WINDCLAN ･ PENNED BY TWITCHTAIL

  Small fawn tabby with pale green eyes.
  "speak" thoughts action
  — peaceful, healing, and minor injury powerplay allowed

​

 

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ Vulturekit catches his desperate glimpse around Nightingalecry's legs, and he doesn't understand. A cat with a pelt of dappled smoke, just like the plume that consumed the moors and just as dreadful. He smiles like a viper and speaks like one too, words dripping honey-sweet like traps for flies. There's familiarity there, between this cat and his aunt, he feels frustration curling in his gut that he can't figure out why. It's all happening too fast.

They don't have long to watch before they hear the whisper in their ear. Don't scream. A voice like smoke, like the crackling of flame. They startle, but make good on the request. Their ears pin, shrinking away. "Who -" Their mouth clicks shut as the kit continues speaking. Urgent promises and whispers, the tall stranger closing in. He doesn't understand, but suddenly he begins to feel very trapped. Words that should be comforting only serve to raise his hackles further, coming from the mouth of this smoky, wispy-furred spectre.

Their teeth close around his scruff, and he blinks in surprise. He doesn't think to fear it at first; he's never had another kit pick him up, and it's a strange sensation. She can't be much older than him, can she?

Her grip is weak and clumsy as she drags the undersized tom along, and before long he begins to writhe. Fear comes lacked with anger as Vulturekit is pulled with shaky grip into the fray of battle. "Let me g-g-go- Let -" he hisses, spits, twisting in the kit's grasp. His head jerks back to look at the nursery and -

"Auntie..." Suddenly, Vulturekit stills. Nightingalecry lies at the mouth of the nursery, red spilling across the field. She is still, and the smoky cat is smiling. There's red everywhere. Staining the camp, staining his home, the one place he's felt safe. There's his dad too - red dripping from his mouth like the golden cat whose form he thrashes is nothing but prey.

He shuts his eyes tight. He wants it to stop.

A shaky breathe. "I cuh... I c-c-can walk, please -" He does not try to escape anymore. A better place, she'd said. Somewhere safe. He wants that. "I... I'll be b-b-buh-brave. Lemme go." And he wriggles just a bit, just to demonstrate his point.

As soon as he is let out from her grasp, he begins to run. His eyes crack open just slightly, to see the stranger he follows. He does not look back at the bloodied mess that has become of his home.

‎‎┌── FOR I HATE THE BUILDINGS ⛧ AND THE WAY THEY TOWER OVER ME ──┐‎

• out !! vulturekit has been (somewhat willingly) kidnapped by @GRAVELPAW
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  VULTUREKIT ⛧ he / they, kit of windclan, four moons.
  ⭃ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
  ⭃ skittish and dour, with little time for typical kit games.
  ⭃ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze. sibling to dustkit and bilberrykit.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

Bravery did not come as wells to Celandinepaw. It arrived to her as desert's rain, as scarce twinge that eluded her most times. She had not been born with it, as though it had been ripped from her chest as a strip of flesh, or perhaps it was more akin to her having never caught it with her own two paws. Within the chamber that the heart pounded hurriedly within, she searched for any scraps of courage along the walls, within the cracks and beyond the crevices.

What can I do when the whole world's falling down around me? Intruder's screeches sounded raucously in the air, heroism of the damned inflamed into vengeance, like it had curdled and rotted into something far more gnarled than anything they had started with. The spotted tabby hardly even knew of Duskclan, for she had been fortunate enough to have joined Windclan's ranks after a war of insurgency. But the molly had seen this all before, the unmistakable metal of blood's scent, the hoarse whimpers and cries of the damned. She stood at the corner of the camp, huddling as though flashing claws and bared fangs would not raze her if she were small enough, unnoticeable enough if she gritted her teeth and bided her time. She couldn't fight! She wasn't meant to fight! It was a wonder that Duskclan seemed to retreat just as she and the Gathering had arrived. Ebbing tide of sanguine, those of the scrublands soon sunk into sallow shadows. Opening wheat-hued eyes once more, Celandinepaw saw the wake of carnage that Duskclan had left behind for Windclan to pick up, as though the tinder of suffering had been kindled by the flames of senseless violence. She had helped Windclan like this, once before. She had seen them at their lowest, but the clan always rebounded, as though carrying the spirit of endless springtide itself. That was their strength, she reasoned, that their resilience never allowed them to truly die. I do what I can.

"Hey! If anyone can't get up, I'll help you to the medicine cat's den!" The girl shouted to the wind. If she couldn't fight, then she would surely aid in other ways.

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊

• Calling out for anyone injured or wounded!
  
• ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
  
• 

  —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 9 Moons
  —— Moor Runner Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Dimmingsun
  —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[THISTLEPAW !]

❝ THE TENACITY I HOLD✧°.☀ ——————————————————————————————————
Thistlekit is still far too young to comprehend all that is going on around him. He doesn't understand the vendetta Granitepelt and DuskClan have against WindClan, the motives behind this and past battles - all the wailing, hissing and growls coming mostly from the outside are nonsense to him; all he knows is that they're awfully loud. The scent of blood and death was present all around, scents he would not grow to learn the severity of until older.

Rattleheart's comforting words and soothing familiar smell aren't enough to keep him and his littermates from mewling as they're tucked away into safety, squirming and crawling as they search for the warmth of the queen. His eyesight is still blurry, not developed in the slightest; where were their parents? He may not fully grasp the current battle and its consequences yet, but he knows he doesn't like it at all.

And then a new scent comes in, something foul so unlike that of Rattleheart, or Venomstrike, or any WindClanner. A DuskClan rogue - he'd later learn - grabbing him by the scruff so roughly, so different from the softness his parents grabbed him with. The seal-point writhes at being handled wildly, a pathetic high-pitched whine as he's lifted into the air by the invader, protesting despite Thornrunner's hush.

He hears Rattleheart say something, and then he's on the ground again, threshing and crying. Oblivious to his mother's attacks on his near-kitnapper, oblivious to the blood that flew on him from their fight and stained his fur. All he wants is to feel the presence of the tunneler beside him and his littermates again.

[penned by nocthymia - ☀

————————————————— ☀.°✧ I HOPE IT'S HARD TO BREAK DOWN ❞ ​

​

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  "Speech" Thoughts
  Just a quick reply DO NOT ENGAGE!!!!
  
• 
  

  

• THISTLEKIT ✩ HE/HIM, kit of windclan, zero moons
  ⭃ long haired seal-point kitten with an unusually long tail and pale blue eyes. short history blurb, short opinion on clan/clan specific traits. 1-2 sentences bout personality stuff and any other important details.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by nocthymia ↛ @hypmic on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

 

[✧ Marmotbite.]

MY BODY'S COVERED IN TEETH MARKS
YOUR BITES WORSE THAN YOUR BARK​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

marmotbite & 19 moons & demigirl & she/they/it & windclan tunneler ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As yowls break out around the camp, Marmotbite nearly jumps out of her fur. Heartbeat pounding like a frightened rabbit, it takes a moment for her to regain her senses - fur all fluffed up, bottlebrush tail and all. An invasion mind supplies easily enough - because this? This is a situation she's in before. Rogues, the filthy things, storming windclan camp. Back then, they'd had the advantage of numbers - yellowcough weakening many a clanmate. now? Not so much.

A flash of grey fur - long legged, spindly - catches her eyes, and suddenly Marmotbite is in her element once more. There's no good way to reach the tunnels from where she is, no advantaged to be held, and so instead she does what she does best - she bites. Teeth sink into flailing apendage as the tom tries to dart by, blood flooding her mouth as 'Possum yowls out in pain. Claws are turned her way, but the tiny she-cat only tugs harder before darting away - dodging, weaving, taunting.

Teeth nip at the scraggly toms hills - biting, baiting. Frustration rises and she feels claws score across her face, leaving bloodstained welts in their wake, but she doesn't stop. Once, perhaps, she might have. But these cats do not scare her - she is a prideful little thing, and she is well assured of her prowess. Somewhere in the crowd, she knows with certainty, her mate must be doing the same.

The rush of adrenaline - the thrill of the hunt, the kill, is enough to have lips drawing back in a smile despite herself. She is a wild thing, feral in her intensity, and even the pain that comes with each blow she fails to dodge barely registers. In the end, it is another grey-pelted coward who calls the retreat, and her opponent takes his chance to flee - leg tearing from her jaws, and with it a tooth. Teeth flash as she grins, spitting blood out onto the ground with a grunt.

Windclan has won this fight.

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

T H E R E S ━ A ━ D O G ━ I N ━ Y O U R ━ H E A R T

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
/// shhhhh pretend this isn't late. powerplay perms given by, well, myself lmao

 

[PINKSHINE]

WE'RE BEING ATTACKED.

Pinkpaw almost doesnt recognize the sound of Rivewhispers voice, her voice nearly cracking as its punched out - stretched thin. Along with the rest of WindClan, Pinkpaw lifts her head.

Chaos erupts at once, but she... well, she's not used to it. She could never be used to it. She never wanted to be used to enemies in her camp, or jaws snapping so close to the nursery or elders den, but its happened before. Maybe it'll happen again. So... so she's prepared. That's what Scorchstreak has been training her for — to be prepared, even if she's not ready.

Immediately, she looks to the nursery. She sees Gravelsnap and Downypaw... She sees former clanmates; sees Rumblerain. She sees Nightengalecry and Ebonylight. A voice cries for Gravelsnap, now with Rumblerain's teeth in them. Pinkpaw's taking too long. She rushed to the nursery, but teeth and claws block her way wherever she turns. Wide - eyes need to determine which fights her clanmates could handle, which fightd they couldn't. She queens definitely couldnt; the kits definitely couldn't

She won't stand still - can't. Her paws itch, and at last she throws herself at a Duskclanmer bringing up the rear. What was is Scorchstreak told her? Scorchstreak, that she needed to find as soon as she could— go for the weak points, and so Pinkpaw slashes at their legs, claws unshesthed. Pinkpaw battles through the cries from kits, through the chaos. Her heart jumps in her throat when she sees DuskClan warriors breach the nursery, but her clanmates follow, and... and, if she walked away, they would just join their clanmates, wouldn't they.

So she bites down, she tears at fur. DuskClan's leader calls for retreat. The warrior beneath her thrashes and runs. Pinkpaw is too distracted by Sunstar.

Has WindClan won? ...She doesn't think so.

The strangest thing is... a young DuskClanner retreating, and Vulturekit running after them as fast as their kittish paws can take them. The moments that Pinkpaw is speechless for are moments that they take to get away. Breathless, belated, she screams, " Vulturekit! " and then...

Nightangalecry is dead. Sunstar is dying. Her breath heaves. Vulturekit and his thief are still here. With their paws able to get to close to camp's exit before she does, Pinkpaw charges for the DuskClanner, aiming to swipe at shoulders as they wove their way between cats. Something — anything to get Vulturekit away from them. " Vulturekit, get somewhere safe! " she cries

OOC: mobile post! Attempting to intercept @GRAVELPAW and @Vulturekit.​

 

[cottonsprig]

It's hardly a fluid motion - the collision that occurs just above her frame. Cottonpaw could feel the rogue's hot breath poised at her throat, mocking her very life, when all at once it's pulled away. Claws scrape at her skin as her attacker makes attempts to hold their footing, but they do not fair well as Junco brutishly bowls into them. Cottonpaw scrambles to her paws, dizzy with distress and confusion, but before she can even think to ask questions, her savior is attacked -

"Junco...!" she squeaks. Her paws spur to join her friend's side, the air around them crackling as she hisses towards the DuskClanner - but again, the seconds tick and there's a yowl that breaks the tension in the air. A call for retreat. StarClan sending them home early had been a blessing in disguise, Cottonpaw thinks, for so much worse could've happened should the patrol stayed any later. A blessing, that is, still drenched in death and smelling foul.

There are bodies slumped by the nursery and Pinkpaw is screaming a kitten's name, rushing after the retreating DuskClanners. A lump of golden and blond fur is spilling red, surrounded by friends and family as they wait, impatiently, for him to rise again. The tragedy that is WindClan lengthens beyond them, continuous in its grief and humiliation. One step forward to kinder futures is dragged back through muck and blood a dozen times over. Cottonpaw somehow regrets her mother, as if she had any paw in that queen's creation.

Junco slumps next to her, and she finds reality with static in her ears. "Oh, Junco," and now, her friend is hurt. Her friend, who came all this way to, what? Warn them? Join in the chaos? If Junco never left DuskClan would they never have rekindled their friendship? Would the silver tabby be instead the one bearing yellow teeth at her neck? She tenses her jaw, leaning to touch a nose to the other's ear. "I will be," she murmurs forlornly - a lie, maybe, for she does not know what the universe has in store for her yet. "Your eye... You'll be treated," she says, with no hesitation. Junco saved her. Even if Sunstar or Scorchstreak must send her away at the end of the day, she will not garner infection and die in the horseplace. Cottonpaw will make sure of that.​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Howls of war jet into the night sky as water jets from its fount. Scorchstorm has become intimately familiar with its rhythms in her short but full life — named for the ferocity she carries, she pictures herself as something of a knight, uniquely apt for protection. But those aspirations only carry so much weight. What matters is what she does when the war drum beats. Scorchstorm does the same thing she knows she always will: she rises to fight.

Except, this is a unique situation, isn't it? For when Scorchstorm turns her brimstone gaze upon their assailants, she sees her littermate among them. The recognition seems to cut her to the bone; shaves inches off of her intimidating stance. "Rumblerain!" she calls, only for the words to turn to a shriek when they launch themselves at Gravelsnap. They're throwing away their chance to come back to WindClan — can't they see that? "Rumblerain, stop it!" She doesn't stop to consider whether a return is what they'd want. But it's what they need, isn't it? They're so thin, she can see their ribs; so fierce in a way she does not remember them. Is this really her littermate? They want to pull Gravelsnap off of them, to coddle her sibling until they return to the soft-faced, softer-tongued apprentice she remembers.

But she can't. They attack Gravelsnap ruthlessly; they are a DuskClanner now, a crony of Granitepelt's. What happened? she wonders as Granitepelt mounts an attack against Sunstar in slow motion. Blood spills in every direction, from every cat she can see. Most of it dribbles out of Nightingalecry's cooling body; sprays from Sunstar's jugular. Some of it bleeds freely from her own family. Scorchstorm can only stand, fury building in her limbs. This is not... this is not the WindClan she had wanted to grow up into, one divided from her family, one constantly facing the trials of war and distrust and hate. She does not contemplate her own role in this progression. Only stands, helpless to stop what is already in motion.

She offers her littermate one last pained glance, should they even catch her eye. She does not run towards them — instead, she fends herself from a straggling DuskClanner with ambitions too big for his orders. Their scuffle is over in minutes. The brutish tom strikes at her shoulder, and she returns a blow to his forehead; he beats her jaw and she tatters his ears; he runs away when he notices his numbers diminishing. She wishes she could have killed him. Instead she is left with a sore jaw and an empty feeling.

Sunstar bleeds out in the middle of camp. Her clanmates clamor accordingly. She ought to, she feels, but the death is already taking its course, and Scorchstorm's mind seems to have been escorted away by her littermate. They didn't realize the ways that Sootstar had forsaken them — didn't realize the ways they had just lost their chance to reintegrate into WindClan. It hurts her, a girl of steadily-dwindling kin, to lose Rumblerain in this way. They aren't dead, but a morbid part of her wonders if death would be easier to stomach than this sick betrayal. She hadn't betrayed them, had she? Where had they gone wrong?

Scorchstorm settles at @BLUEFROST 's side; watches her mother urge Sunstar into movement; sweeps her gaze across the steaming bodies. She says nothing. What is there to say?

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 ✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌

• 

• 
  
  — scorchkit . scorchpaw . scorchstorm
  — she/they ; warrior of windclan
  — short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — signature by dreamydoggo, template art by sixbane
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[Witherpaw]

There was panic all around the clan. Witherkit could understand very little of it, bad smelling cats bowling over WindClan warriors and the cats he was familiar with retaliating. He didn't know why they were here until they realized they smelled like his father. The kitten's blood froze over, what could this mean? His dad woundn't try to hurt those that protected him and his siblings? Did he know they were doing this? Surely, he would put an end to it.

His eyes darted around the nursery, the queens were already near the mouth protecting, his mother included. The lanky charcoal kit looked around to see which kittens were still too little to know they were in danger and went to guard them to the best of his abilities. They weren't sure what they would do if a rogue broke past the mouth of then den, maybe scratch them? Would that do anything? Their heart was pounding and no other sound penetrated his ears. Sharp orange eyes continued to survey the kittens that he had declared under his protection.

It's only when a familiar voice speaks that his attention is pulled away from the other kittens. It was a cry from Frightkit, his sister, panic flooded in Witherkit's head, had she gotten hurt while he was focused on other things? He whipped his head around to the now horrifying scene in front of him. His mother's claws ready to rake across his father's throat, there is confusion, and then Frightkit nips at her heels. Her claws fall, and in an instant Ebonylight is killing her.

Witherkit charges at his father, fiery rage spilling out of his throat, a broken cry of a child that just lost both of their parents in a single argument. The boy who looks so similar to Ebonylight attempts to slash at the cat there is no poise to it, only violence. He tries to rake the fur off, to try and hit flesh, if he could in that moment he would have shredded through bone, but he wasn't a warrior, not even an apprentice. His attempt to hurt Ebonylight is futile. That point is driven home by a clawed paw racking across his own masked face. He is thrown across the nursery, slamming his body hard into the packed dirt. He splutters, blood dripping down his face and over his eyes, the only thought in his mind being that their mother has said she would've named him Lightkit.... a name that honored the cat she was just slain by, it make him sick, or maybe that's from how hard he hit his head.

"speech"

//powerplay permission given by Antii
​

 

[MIDNIGHTPAW]

Midnightkit had been enjoying a restful sleep. Her body tiredly curled up in the nest that she shared in the nursery with Nightingalecry and her siblings. Her adopted mother, she now knew. Her adopted siblings. It was taking a while to get used to the idea. That they weren’t really hers. But it made sense, in some ways, as well. She could think back on that night when they’d been taken to see Ebonylight, and understand why it all felt so wrong. Why her fur stood on end when she saw him. Why his eyes went so cold when he’d looked at her, only for a moment, but she’d noticed. He may have been Frightkit’s ‘Appa, but he wasn’t hers. In some ways, that was a relief. And she didn’t care to know more about her real parents, not yet. Nightingalecry was her mother, and that was all that really mattered now.

Dreams of the moors and star-filled skies were interrupted by the sudden, ear-piercing sounds of battling cats. Her spine tingled strangely as her wide blue eyes slowly blinked open, raising a paw to rub the sleep away. But when her vision finally focused in the dim light of the nursery, she was met with a waking nightmare. Before her stood Nightingalecry, her protector, her safety, using her body to keep them from a chillingly familiar grin. One that had haunted her memories since they’d met on that moonlit moor. One that had never cared anything for her, she knew it. And now he was standing there, smiling sadisiticly, hurting her momma, threatening to take her siblings. She didn’t understand any more than that; maybe she didn’t want to understand more than that. But she could see the angry red slashes already marring her mother’s pretty grey fur and nothing else mattered.

Grasskit was there beside her, and Frightkit and Witherkit too. Blue eyes round with fear flitted to each of them, wondering if this was the last she would ever see of them. Would Ebonylight take them all away? He wouldn’t take her, she was sure; he never wanted her. But he was angry, so angry with Nightingalecry and their voices started to get louder and harsher and suddenly they were locked together, a flash of teeth and claws and her heart stopped beating. But it was okay, it was okay because Nightingalecry managed to push the charcoal warrior off of her, she was okay, it was going to be -

“Don’t hurt ‘Appa!”

The ebony-furred kitten whipped around to face her sister, her normally expressionless face painted with horror. Why would she defend that monster? Could she not see what he was, what he wanted to do to them? He didn’t love her, he didn’t love any of them, love didn’t look like that and surely she could see it. “Frightkit, don’t-“ A flash of fangs cut her words short.

Red… A terrible color she’d never liked.

She blinked and suddenly it was all she could see. The earth was soaked in it, and her mother’s beautiful fur was painted in a sickening shade of red that seemed to go on forever. Her body slumped to the ground and she went still, stopped moving, stopped fighting. She wasn’t looking at them anymore; she wasn’t looking at anything anymore. Ebonylight seemed to lose all interest in them now, now that she was… gone, and quickly fled with the rest of the bodies she couldn’t care less about. “Mmm…. Mom..” Her voice was hoarse, weak, feeble as she felt now more than ever. “Mom…” Midnightkit stumbled towards her lifeless form, ignoring Frigthkit, ignoring what she’d just cost them. All she wanted was to bury her nose into that beautiful, familiar grey fur and wait for Nightingalecry to wake up. Because she wouldn’t leave them like this. She’d always been there, always.

---

‎‎ooc ♡ info

• [ please forgive how ridiculously late this post is </3 I still wanted to get a reply out! ]
• 
  

  

• 
  MIDNIGHTPAW ✦ she / her, apprentice of windclan, 6 moons
  ⭃ short-hair black tabby with low-white, vitiligo and blue eyes. petite and fragile.
  ⭃ hollowcreek x harbingermoon // littermate to whitepaw and grasspaw
  ⭃ adopted by nightingalecry // adopted sister to frightpaw, witherpaw and deathpaw
  ⭃ single, crushing on no one // currently mentored by redheart
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted // underline and tag when attacking.
  ⭃ penned by limerence ↛ @limericks. on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​