camp WAY DOWN, WOULD YOU SAY I'M WORTHY? \ return

[BLAZESTAR]

Dawn has broken across the sky by the time SkyClan is able to return to their camp. Blazestar leans heavily upon a warrior’s shoulder, his breath painted with pain. Pale sunlight filters through the pines, scattered and sharp across the shadowy forest floor. Though their silhouettes are backlit with this washed-out gold, the weariness on their faces will be what many of their Clanmates see first.

He welcomes the sight of his Clanmates waiting for their safe return. He can see the kits, many of them bundled into the nursery after a long night of waiting. He searches for Orangeblossom, blue gaze dark and heavy with pain and exhaustion. “SkyClan drove them out,” he says, a promise to his Clan. “WindClan will not return soon.” Some of their warriors were more injured than others—though unless Sootstar had somehow expired from the blow he’d given her, the casualties are not even this time.

Blazestar searches for the cats who had not gone, the ones who had guarded their camp with the intention to die for those inside. He searches for a pale tabby body and rosemary-leaf eyes. He searches, but he’s tired, too tired to keep searching—his head falls against the shoulder of his companion.

// return thread!
Battle party: @GREENEYES @Drizzlepaw @Howlpaw @BRAMBLEHEART @SILVERSMOKE @Johnnyflame @SLATE @Sootspritespark. @Coyotecrest
Medicine cats: @DAWNGLARE @Fireflypaw

Blazestar's injuries: medium slash against chest; bruised ribs; deep slash across belly (death blow)

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— The tabby queen has been sitting in the nursery's mouth, vaguely keeping an eye on her kits, her back hunched and pale spring eyes trained on the camp's entrance; round ears lifted for any sound, be it that of a returning party or stampeding invaders. She knows that many of the cats milling around her now worry most about the possibility of moonlit forms led by a furious blue pelt bursting in with claws bared for their kits' necks, and she certainly worries about that, but it would be a lie to say that is what preoccupies her now as she keeps watch through the long night. Selfish as it might be, her mind turns over a shape in gold fur instead of blue; she recalls the battered cats she's seen laying in Dawnglare's den, the bloody pool in which Blazestar had lain on that fateful patrol. Pale claws tighten in moss and tired eyes are fixed firmly on the pink-streaked sky beyond the nursery's safety, veins lined with ice. Suddenly that desire intensifies, the want to become a warrior and be able to fight alongside her Clanmates. To be able to guarantee their safety as best she can.

She hears voices and dragging pawsteps, sees silhouettes lined in gold framed against the rising sun. "Stay here, loves," Her mew is soft but firm and quickly tossed off to her kittens as she pulls herself to tired feet after a night of waiting; they do not need to see more bloodshed, more cats oozing crimson. Bobbie's paws carry her forward now, barely checked by her healing injuries, and suddenly she wants to stop; what if a closer look reveals a light put out forever, a slumped form carried on the backs of red-eyed warriors? But she's already moving and she cannot stop herself by the time she's reached the returning party, sage eyes searching with the night's exhaustion forgotten.

"Blazestar?" Her mew is soft, venturing, curled inside itself from fear of hurt as she reaches the gathering cats, eyes settling on his leonine form instantly. A light sting gathers at their edges in silence; he's so bloody, so dark-eyed, bloodier than even that fateful day by the Twolegplace border. Leaning on a warrior's shoulder, practically falling over, but alive. The tabby moves forward hesitantly, heartwrenchingly suspended in the unknown for a moment until she sees the rise of his battered flank with pained breaths. Her breath comes shaky and she's unsure, pressing her nose to the leader's hanging cheek if he'll permit it. Her mew is a trembling exhale, two words of confirmation, "Yo-You're alive."

---

┏━•✿°•° OOC -ˋˏ ༻⚘༺ ˎˊ- INFORMATION °•°✿•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

• ooc: crying emoji
  

• 

• ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred.. —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

​

 

[SLATE]

Trudging back into camp behind Blazestar is the hunched bulky form of Slate, not carrying the same boldness or intimidation as usual. His energy was depleted, his bones weary and muscles exhausted from exertion. Crimson was spattered and stained across his entire charcoal form, with scratch marks raking down his belly and back and nasty bite wounds punctured around his neck. A throbbing headache also accompanied his physical wounds, a side effect of the skull-on-skull collision between him and the WindClanner.

He swipes his pink tongue over bloodied jaws, the metallic taste still lingering in his mouth. Slate swears that he would have killed that she-cat had she not gathered the strength to deter him. Maybe the life of a clan cat was making him softer, as he was exposed to fewer fights on a regular basis. Maybe he needed to train harder and better so that next time he could make a swift kill and put a quick end to the fight.

The Maine Coon doesn't look for anybody out in particular, not even Dawnglare (like he'd willingly seek assistance from that lunatic). Slate had been perfectly fine with licking his own wounds for nearly an entire lifetime and tonight wasn't any different. Maybe. Then again, these wounds were far greater and excessive than most injuries he'd received in the past.

Eh, he'd live. He just needed a breather.​

 

[Howlfire]

Close on the heel of her mentor and her father, Howlpaw returns to camp. The battle against WindClan had concluded and the moorland clan have returned to their home. Howlpaw would have liked to say it was a victory for SkyClan, but given that her father had lost a life, it would have felt like a rather hollow victory. At the very least, WindClan had retreated with more injuries than they came with and a failure to reach their camp.

Like many of the cats who were in the battle, Howlpaw aches and feels a bit tired. Her cheek bears a small cut from the small, blue apprentice she fought but the blood around it has mostly dried now. Her pelt is dirty and ruffled, but something that seems rather trivial in the grand scheme of things. Howlpaw glances around camp, looking at the faces of those who stayed behind, relieved that they are all alright and that WindClan had not sent a second patrol or turned back to attack camp. Her brow raises questioningly when she sees Bobbie approach her father and share a rather tender moment with him. Regardless of her evident surprise, she says nothing and pushes on ahead seeking out her brother.

// howl's injury is literally just the cut on her cheek (it isn't too deep) and otherwise just a bit fatigued​

 

[Orangestar]

A large, pale pelt cuts through the sparse undergrowth, and Orangeblossom's stinging eyes focus on Blazestar's form as he leads the battered SkyClan battle party towards the camp. Sagging with relief, the sunkissed molly just about falls out of the tree. With a flick of her tail she tries to calm the nervous shuffle below her with a call of, "They're back."

She descends from her perch above Highbranch, gritting her teeth against the strain in her shoulders as she hits the ground front paws first. Bobbie breaks rank first even as Orangeblossom limps forward to exchange reports with their leader in full, rushing to Blazestar's side with a weird simpering hesitation that makes his deputy wrinkle her nose. She's no stickler for what's proper, but something about the interaction makes her narrow brown eyes; especially since most of what she's ever known is Blazestar pining for his former mate in ThunderClan. In the meantime, her attention strays to her left, where a hulking shadow of a SkyClanner tries to slip away to lick his wounds. If she can stall Slate long enough, Fireflypaw could hopefully work on him.

"You look like you walked through a storm of claws." She grunts to her longtime acquaintance, ears twitching. "Go on then, who was it?"

— info

• // @SLATE
• 
  orangeblossom. tags.
  — she/her, skyclan deputy.
  — mentor to eveningpaw.
  — attack in #e08550. uses trees as an integral part of her fighting style.
  — mean enough to note that her thoughts don't reflect my opinions as a writer haha.
  — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
  — art by merc!<3
  

​

 

[HOUNDHEART]

( ♡ ) The sound of pawsteps brought Houndheart to a standstill. All her pacing ceased in an instant, as she raised her head and stood eerily still. Her eyes were affixed to the entrance of the camp. She waited for her enemies to emerge. The earth beneath her was torn apart by her claws.

Then the call from Orangeblossom rang out. They're back. Her clanmates were home. There would be no battle for her tonight, no bloodshed. A shuddering sigh left her, and with it went all the tension and energy in her body. She lowed her head and her eyes drifted closed. Suddenly, she looked her age. Old and worn and more tired than could be imagined. For a moment, she just stood there, breathing deeply.

It was strange, being this tired without having even fought. The adrenaline coursing through her at the thought of a fight alone had worn her out. A low chuckle left her, and she shook her head.

She really was getting old.

Attempting to shake off the feeling, she padded toward the returning heroes. "Good work." Houndheart nodded respectfully toward her leader. A strange mix of relief and shame met his assurance that the clan was safe now. She was glad, of course, that her clanmates would safe, and that Windclan had gotten what they deserved. It just felt wrong that she had not fought. Letting other people fight her battles didn't sit right with her. It should have been her out there, out on the frontlines. Still, she tried to focus on her relief. There would be other battles. Despite her leader's assurances, she was certain of that much. Windclan wouldn't give up so easily. "Glad to see you all back in..." Her eyes drifted across the blood-soaked pelts of the patrol, Blazestar and Slate most of all. "More or less one piece." ​

( MY DARLING; THE DEVIL KNOWS MY NAME )

 

[sparrowsong!]

..╭―――――――――――――――|➹|―――――――――――――――╮

.

Sparrowpaw had been staring at the camp entrance for... well, since the patrol left, really. Watching. Waiting. Hoping, desperately, that they would all be okay. That every face they had seen walk out would walk back in. Just once.

The cats in the trees had seen them before they did, and the reactions spread like a ripple, themself joining the flood of cats rushing to meet the war party as they returned. Nervously the tabby tip-tapped their paws, straining to peer over some of the taller cats in their attempt to see. One, two, three, four...

Legs weakening, Sparrowpaw nearly sank to the earth. They were okay. They were all okay. Hurt, many of them, but they were - would be - okay. They puffed out a breath, eyes that began to brim with tears scrunching shut. They had driven WindClan away, then? Maybe... StarClan had kept them safe. Lowering their head until their nose touched the earth, they whispered under their breath, soft and cracked. "Thank you."​

.

..╰―――――――――――――――|➹|―――――――――――――――╯

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

From his position as a lookout in the trees, Twitchbolt bristled with alarm as he heard the unmistakable sound of an approach. All but prepared to shout out to alert the waiting warriors below, the mahogany-snow warrior snapped his jaw shut as soon as he recognised the golden pelt of their leader, and the patchwork of pelts that followed him home.

It was a wonder Twitchbolt did not tumble from the treetops given the speed of his descent, but some level of skill that he'd managed to accrue blessed him with a sound landing, even if his gait was stumbling and frantic in his rush to count the heads. Everyone... yes, everyone. Everyone alive, even if they were hurt. WindClan had sought blood, had gained some, clearly... but they had no more death-trophies to brandish at the next gathering.

The word that refused to stop whirling round in Twitchbolt's head was why. What had they done? Blazestar had openly admitted their harbouring of former Windclanners to Sootstar's face at the last gathering, a truth that the tiny leader had seemed absolutely appalled by... but was this really a reason for an attack like this? Committed in the dead of night, intending to storm a camp housing SkyClan's most vulnerable?

It wouldn't be the first time. A memory of sinking his teeth into a Windclanner's lashing tail struck him, and he swallowed. His paranoia was not always unfounded.

The sickening scent of blood sprawled through his lungs like ivy. "You're safe," he choked out, gaze settling on no particular face. It was relief in waves that had never hit him before, a comedown perhaps made so all-encompassing by the depth of his earlier panic. "Was it... just because they- they hate us?" It would be nothing new, but... last time they had stormed camp they had been clawing their way toward Dawnglare's den. Did SkyClan have something WindClan wanted, other than... their traitors?​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Alice]

( ♬ )
They are back. They are okay. They are back. They are okay.

Alice barely manages to relax at the sound of returning cats. Leaving the nursery to see the commotion for herself. Her heart felt heavy with the sight of injured cats. Windclan was gone for now. Would they come back? She fears that the fight is over but a war is just beginning. Could she help her clanmates brace the storm?

“Welcome back everyone.” she sighs out in relief. Forcing her body to relax. Everything was okay for the moment. Injured cats would be attended to and Blazestar would surely let them know if the danger was truly over. ​

( AND I BUILT A HOME, FOR YOU, FOR ME; UNTIL IT DISAPPEARED, FROM ME, FROM YOU )

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Figfeather hurries away at an instant from whichever den she was guarding the moment news of the patrol returning hit her ears. Orange eyes dance about from body to body, examining their injuries- Blazestar looks particularly in rough shape... What about Greeneyes? Howlpaw? The later looks to be almost unscathed! Figfeather cannot help but wish she had gotten to be apart of the patrol, to help drive out WindClan. She is envious of the wounds each warrior bears, one day she'll bare scars for her clan, someday soon her time will come. She finds herself trotting over to @Howlpaw (unintentionally cutting her off from reuniting with kin), "Look at you- you've barely got a scratch!" she says in astonishment, taking a good note to never get on Howlpaw's bad side. "...Where's @GREENEYES ? He handled himself well, yeah?"

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

---

Though shorter than the tom by a fair bit, the stocky form of Johnny holds steady beneath Blazestars weight, helping the injured leader along. They're all exhausted, coated in blood and bone-weary, but there are some -like Johnny- who look as if they'd jump into a round two despite the injuries littering their body. A bloody face, slashes across his throat and chest, and bruised beneath his fur, his copper eyes spark with a barely satisfied violence, a unquenched thirst for a jutice he felt they didn't have.

They had returned and driven off the enemy, true, but the shecat he'd fought and the others she'd come with- they hadn't fully learned their lesson. It left him craving another opportunity to drive it home, to make the cowards of the moors realize that creeping into their territory would never be a good idea, weather it was the dead of night or otherwise.

His gaze shifts to the crowd as they enter camp and it forms around them. Bobbie slips forward, hesitant concern lacing her features as she reached for the tom slouched against him, and he tries his best to offer her a smile of reassurance despite the blood that covers them all.

Twitchbolts words eventually draw his attention, and he grunt an affirmative. "They're mad because we've taken in the cats they tortured or who didn't conform to their brand of cruelty." he replied, gaze narrowing at the thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if they pull this again. Cats like that- who are willing to sneak into our camp in the calm of night to hurt our people- they're monsters." he growled, the fur along his back bristling.

OOC// supporting @BLAZESTAR and talking to @TWITCHBOLT
- slash to his cheek beneath left eye
- vertical clawmarks down throat and chest
- clawmarks on shoulders

---

​

 

[Howlfire]

Despite looking for her brother, Howlpaw is not disappointed when she finds Figfeather first instead. Her tail raises in a friendly manner, and she chuckles at Figfeather's comment. "You should have seen the apprentice I fought," Howlpaw said with a conspiratorial wink. "She certainly won't forget me when she catches sight of her reflection." It was big talk from Howlpaw given the relatively minor wounds she and Bluepaw had inflicted on each other. If she fought a warrior perhaps things would have been different, but Howlpaw had been fortunate not to confront one of the more violent warriors. Still, Howlpaw would happily relish in her first victory. "I think he'll be near Dirzzlepaw," Howlpaw mewed in response to Figfeather's question about her brother. "And I think he handled himself well? I didn't really see much of what everyone else was doing during the battle but he didn't seem to be heavily injured, just a little shaken up."​

 

[GREENEYES]

"Come on, we're almost there."

It's the first thing he's said since they've left the battlefield. The tom had been silent, stuck in his thoughts between then and now. Stuck on making sure Drizzlepaw is okay - stuck on finding the what ifs of each move he'd made in the battle between Wind and Sky.

If he had landed better, then what? If he'd struck his first opponent harder? His second?

He tries not to think about the second cat, the way they'd collapsed under his strike, the mere brush with death - a trek to the stars almost caused by him. He tries not to think about the way the first had moved towards him after, the anger in his eyes. If WindClan hadn't been called to retreat, would Greeneyes have fallen to the moor-dweller's claws?

His fur feels sticky against his shoulders and chest, as he walks with Drizzlepaw along his side. Stinging pain from the sharp claws of his opponent turned into a dull throbbing on their trek back home - one that brings the dread of having to deal with Dawnglare. Would the High Priest know what his claws had almost done? A deadly strike near missed?

Would Fireflypaw?

He's slow on his emergence back to camp, arriving behind everyone - a stall in time that he'll gladly take while making sure Drizzlepaw makes it back to camp alright. As everyone rushes to greet the battle-goers, Greeneyes looks to Drizzlepaw.

"Make sure you get yourself checked out," he tells him with a flick of a crooked tail. "You didn't look so good when I found you. Do you think you can make it to Dawnglare yourself? Or should I help you over?" Ginger ears twitch at the sound of his name, a dimmed gaze looking up to see Figfeather amidst the greeters, to see Howlpaw talking to her. And while he's grateful to see his sister, he can't help but wonder - would she be disappointed in him, in his shaky efforts in the battle?

"Figfeather!" he calls over to her, trying to get the warrior's attention, "I'm here!"

Here. Back at camp, still standing. Relief fills him at the realization that he's made it back alive, that he's able to return to his sister, to his home. Daisyflight and Snowpath must have been watching over him, must have ensured such.

// returning with @Drizzlepaw and calling over @FIGFEATHER ! green has a few minor scratches on his shoulders and chest (just deep enough to bleed, not to scar) and is a little shaken up!​

​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Drizzlepaw nods at Greeneyes when he speaks up again, keeping quiet still despite the storm inside his head. He couldn’t stop thinking back to his dreams; he knows his mind was trying to tell him something but in his slight delirium, he can’t make out what. Did he think himself so awful that he couldn’t find peace even when he rests? Something inside him tells him that’s not it, but it’s all he can think of in the moment.

Either way, he’s glad for the warrior’s support. Maybe him and Greeneyes could be friends after this, even though he knows there will probably be some tension after what he witnessed Drizzlepaw do. He couldn’t fault him for that, but he’s happy he still decided to help out.

When told to make sure he’s checked out by Dawnglare, he winces slightly, but at least he trusts Fireflypaw to take care of him if Dawnglare is busy with someone else (he hopes he’s busy with someone else). “I’ll be fine now…thanks for taking me all the way here though.” He’s gathered at least some energy from the excursion. He gives the warrior a slight smile, hoping it showed how appreciative he is.

His stomach flips again at seeing Greeneyes reunite with his sister, a twinge of jealousy hitting him hard. He wishes he could have gotten along with his brother…maybe in another world. At least he has a family in SkyClan, that much he can say confidently. But still…he wishes he had gotten someone like Figfeather instead.

// OOC : Got a couple of scratches but nothing major, just exhausted and passed out beforehand​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Dawnglare waits with a frown already plastered atop red and white. He stands similarly with the rest of the clan for once. All of them with eyes and ears open. Oh, they long to see what has come of it– the marks of battle. WindClan were no strangers to unfairness, to cruelty. Their claws took whatever they could reach for, whether that be soul or bundled herb. Those admist him wait to see if a corpse is dredged.

But a few moments sooner, Dawnglare had lifted his head, and known already that though he may not see it with his eyes, there had been one, already. The Medicine Cat scowls at nothing.

He spots the sun over the horizon, and he rises to his paws. SkyClan's warriors well around him. Some hardly looked grazed at all, others were close to being another number to WindClan's cause. Dawnglare is still for a moment, breathing steadily through his nose. His frown is far from hidden, scrawled draggingly across his features. He watches as someone, a queen, breaks from the crowd to see to Blazestar. He can't begin to imagine why the sight bothers him so.

Mumbled words; useless. Inwardly, he scoffs; and for a second he'd glide closer to the golden tom, if only to make sure that the both of them hear him. " Oh, certainly. He has plenty of life to go around, don't you know. " It is only for a split second, that he meets the leaders gaze, before he begins slinking between the crowd instead, sniffing at dry - blood and fur.

He thinks of a star - studded pelt at unwitheld fury within yellow eyes. Once again, he can't begin to imagine why. He shakes the thought away. " The worst of you, come now, " he says, and blue eyes would flicker to the forms of two so - called "lead warriors" present, any perhaps other outliers may be revealed to his eye in the seconds to come. " Fireflypaw, with me. " A lesson, sits perhaps dauntingly in his mind, and at the same time, he would loathe to see the insolent thing drift to the one he should not be drifting to.

He remarks that Howlpaw and Fig are safe with a sigh, before turning going to ready himself.

[ OOC: battle participants let me know ur injuries via discord or this thread :3! ]​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Getting Duskpool to stay still in his den long enough was enough of a chore for him, in his opinion. He'd thought that the larger tom would shove right past him and go fight in the battle himself, but he surprisingly remained stationary. As Dawnglare calls him from the den, Fireflypaw suddenly misses being able to see the lush green of the forest floor below his paws; his dream with Morningpaw still fresh on his mind. Every pawstep is careful as he rounds on the high priest, standing taut beside him. Like a ghostly shadow, Fireflypaw's head lowered as he hears the familiar voices of his friends and family- of Howlpaw bragging about her fight with another apprentice. WindClan was a scourge, a chaos that needed to be extinguished. Purified. Ghostly pale eyes wander the camp sightlessly, though they stop in the direction of Greeneyes' voice. His ears perk, listening for the tom call out his own name to brag about his accomplishments- but nothing came. Greeneyes moved along to the rest of his clanmates, chatting with them.

Morningpaw's voice briefly echoes in his mind. Can you open your ears and your senses to the cat who might be looking at you like Dawnglare looks at Mallowlark? His cheeks warm for a moment, though he quickly shoves the feeling down and turns his head away from the green-eyed tom. His tail wraps around his back leg self-consciously, and he waits in silence by his mentor's side to hear from any injured. The smell of blood is thick in the air, and he can idly hear his father's voice, then the high priest's.

His father lost another life, so soon? He blinks. Terrified. Would he lose his father soon, like he lost Morningpaw? Would he die a brutal death, leaving him behind? No, no.. He would make sure his father was safe. If he had to risk everything to do so, he would. That, he thought, was something not even Dawnglare could convince him otherwise. Seating himself, he waits for cats to come to them for help.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 11 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[SLATE]

Amber eyes flick upwards to the only cat who parted from the flurry of concerned murmurs. He had expected Ora to converse with Blazestar as his second-in-command, but she had approached him for whatever reason instead. Tired and beat, Slate was glad to oblige for only a few shared words before he lumbered over to his nest to pass out, "Some black and white she-cat. I didn't recognize her, but-" Slate paused, gritting his teeth as he shifted his weight and tilted his head upward, revealing a pair of puncture wounds nestled into thick charcoal fur. Sticky scarlet ichor, now beginning to dry, stained the crook of his neck like crushed berries. "She sure liked to bite." His tongue swiped over his lips, coated with blood that mostly wasn't his own.

He overhears Dawnglare beckoning for the wounded to follow him for treatment, but Slate didn't move from his position. The lead warrior was convinced that he didn't require any care, determined to look after himself unless he was dragged into the medicine den kicking and screaming.​

 

[Coyotecrest]

Angry at all the things I can't change

Coyotecrest limped away from the crowd as those waiting eagerly for their return came to meet friends and siblings alike. A tired expression glazes over his features as he proceeds to lay down and glance over his shoulder. That blue tabby's teeth left behind semi deep puncture wounds that left weeping flesh puckered and tender. A careful tongue rasps over the bite as the light of day begins to filter in between the pines. Though his shoulder aches and burns there are certainly others in far worse shape than himself. If anything he was lucky to make it out of that battle with only one injury. (moderate bite to the shoulder, not super deep) ​

When you're lost in the universe don't lose faith​

​

​

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

“Blazestar?” A soft question causes his eyelids to part again, and he lifts his head from the safe support of Johnnyflame’s shoulder just as a familiar pale tabby pelt slips closer. He blinks, the relief flowing through him to see her safe in the sanctity of their camp. The death had been worth that—over her shoulder, he can see slumbering dark shapes curled into their mother’s nest in the nursery. The battle patrol had stopped chaos from being realized and innocents from being harmed.

He lowers his head to greet Bobbie, but her nose pushing into the fur on his cheek causes him to still with surprise. Though the damp cool of her skin is like morning dew from the petals of a rain-kissed flower, heat wracks its way from the tips of his ears to his paw pads. He meets her gaze and stammers, “I… I am, yes. I am now.” Golden eyelids sheath liquid blue again. Gently, he murmurs, “We all made it out.”

He is entirely oblivious to the surprised expression on his daughter’s face, and again to the almost-critical look Orangeblossom gifts him form narrowed eyes. When he lifts his head to greet his deputy, there’s a touch of formality returning to his voice. “Thank you for keeping camp organized and guarded. All of you.” He turns to Twitchbolt, who’d scrambled from a tree to keep sentry, as well as battle-hardened Houndheart and quiet, grateful Sparrowpaw. Orangeblossom’s mother breathes a sigh of relief to see the patrol’s safe return, and Figfeather intercepts Howlpaw to discuss the fight.

Normalcy drives the residual chill following his death. SkyClan survives.

He finds Twitchbolt’s leaf-colored gaze, nodding affirmation after Johnnyflame speaks. “She did not say. They were on their way to our camp, but we startled them—they didn’t expect us to know. ThunderClan saved us from being raided in the dead of night while we slept.” His tone is grim as he considers the carnage. RiverClan had suffered a similar fate not long ago, and one of their warriors had paid the ultimate price. “If I had to guess, then yes—this was inspired by her hatred of the cats we’ve allowed into our Clan, and of me.”

The rest of the battle patrol streams in behind them. Drizzlepaw and Greeneyes lean on one another for support, while Slate lurks on the outskirts to lick his wounds. Blazestar can see him eyeing Dawnglare and Fireflypaw, and he narrows his blue eyes. He’s about to demand Slate be seen when Orangeblossom seems to notice the same thing he does—the ginger and white she-cat goes to him, stalling for time.

“Oh, certainly. He has plenty of life to go around, don’t you know.” Blazestar’s gaze snaps to the medicine cat in question. Dawnglare’s stare is frosty, surely realizing Blazestar has died again, and so soon after their conversation. The Ragdoll clenches his jaw, anger pulsing through his golden body. “Ensure your Clanmates are cared for. I’m going to my den.” There’s enough chill in his voice to warn Dawnglare to watch his step—for as valuable as the sepia-furred feline is to SkyClan, he still answers to Blazestar, whether he likes it or not.

He flicks Bobbie’s striped flank with the tip of his tail. “You can all rest now. Those who slept instead of keeping sentry can see to restocking the fresh-kill pile.” He meets the queen’s delicate green eyes, saying nothing aloud—and then he departs, regrettably, from her proximity.

He stops close to Drizzlepaw. “You fought well.” His gaze travels to Howlpaw. “Both of you. Like warriors. You will receive your names once I’m fit to stand upon the Highbranch again.” He gives them both a smile ghost-laden with pain, then pushes past them all for the sanctity of his elderberry-bush protected den.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

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[Auburnflame]

He had sat upon a crown of needles ever since the patrol left, unable to stop the twitching of a plumed tail whilst glacial eyes kept alert for any significant source of noise. Auburnflame could not rest, could not dare to keep an eye shut, not until the patrol returned and also with a speckled silver silhouette in tow amongst them all. He hated that he wasn't able to join, to watch the hide of his beloved and ensure his safety. But, there were more pressing matters to attend to at the time, keeping guard of the camp in case another attack was on it's way. Luckily, none came.
He spots him from afar, cloaked in silver hues and the smell of blood follows him. An already thrumming heart now beat sporadically, his expression twisting in a mixture of concern and relief that he had returned home. Quickly, paws would carry him over towards Silversmoke and embrace him in front of all to see. The apple of his cheeks nuzzled in with the lead warrior's own, muzzles caressing one another. "I'm so happy you're safe." The tom breathes, his very breath near quaking with an overwhelming amount of emotion. "I'm so happy everyone is safe." A heart beat later he lifts his chin for the others to hear his relief, a plumed tail gently stroking the silken coat of Silversmoke as his gaze rests back on him. "Are you severely injured? You—you seem okay, for the most part." A sheepish smile creeps on his lips, unable to hide the happiness that blossoms like New-Leaf flowers inside of his chest.

/ @SILVERSMOKE

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[ SETTING FIRE TO THE SKY ]​