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[doepath ࿔]

It smells like something burns here... something chemical and cruel. Poison air that fills the lungs like barbed wire. It isn't so different from the company she keeps. Surrounded by the sycophants of a tyrant, the clan and camp that had borne her safe haven now felt like a prison. A wire cage that digs into her sides when pressed against. Her kin were nothing short of muzzled dogs on tight leashes, known for their bite and revered for it with seething grins. Not her. She was plush, downy-hearted... tender-thoughted and fleet-footed. None of the sharp lines or gnashing teeth of her houndish litter-mates.

Still, deer bleat to look for what they've lost, bawl in the absence of comfort and security. Something put on display for everyone; something made a mockery of for all to see. Her fangs had found their venom then, to hiss an insult to deflect some of the wound's depth. It was unlike her quiet, calm manner of seething. Of boiling and bubbling and scheming vengeance she might never enact. Her skin crawls, the needle-like prick of anxiety lifting the hair along her spine like she is hunted.

Hunters listen. Eyes watch as they mark their target. There is a shuffle of stones, the sensation of flat earth becoming rough under-paw. She knows the borders well enough by touch, even more-so by scent. This one reeks... a least favorite for its blankness, devoid of color and rotting. It's hard to tell if anyone's passed this wretched place in the name of trespass and to that end, Doecry relies on those nearby, "Do you see anything," she asks, leaning to sniff at the edge of the Thunderpath with disgust roiling in her belly.

Her ears sit forward to listen for the sound of a patrol on the other side... but the wind blows harshly and the heavy air drowns her senses. It's hard to tell if it's just the breeze or if there are shadows lingering and blending in with the dark.​

 

[Sproutberry]

It was a pleasure to go on a patrol to the ShadowClan border instead of any other, the monsterpath that acted as a barrier meant that he wouldn't have to deal with smalltalk - or at least not much - given the way monsters tend to rush by and the acrid scent of tar caused others to not want to sit near here for too long. Sproutberry didn't mind it though, though cats were scared of the thunderpath it seemed too that twolegs were as well, and it had made the new warrior realize that it was possible that the monsters the twolegs favored so much did not discriminate in who they were to attack, and it brought him comfort knowing this information.

He moved alongside the patrol, ears pricked to the best of their ability as silence followed through them. Since Howlingstar's death patrols had been more quiet and though he couldn't blame his clanmates - she was their leader, even if she was a weak one - he couldn't help the annoyance of the way things had changed so much. If she had died and Flamewhisker had become leader Sproutberry knew that things would still be normal, cats would speak to each other loudly instead of in hushed whispers, but Skyclaw taking over had been no different than the other possibility, not to the chimera anyway.

Silence was useful this time though, for he had been put on a patrol with Doecry and so soon after the meeting where she had hissed out words of disapproval, words of treason. When she spoke up and asked if they could see anything he'd shake his head with a hum before speaking finally "No, nothing." He'd speak it before even looking at the thunderpath, eyes flicking back and forth only after the answer had been given.

AN ANTHEM OF DEATH ๑ SINGS OUT A CRY

• --

• 

• ๑ SH chocolate tabby/lilac chimera w/low white, heterochromia, folded ears
  ๑ rarely talks, listens to conversations
  ๑ 9 moons old; ages the 20th every month
  ๑ bisexual biromantic ; interested in no one
  ๑ currently being mentored by Bigfang
  ๑ not easy to befriend/interact with; slow to anger, slow to calm
  ๑ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ๑ easy in combat due to age
  ๑ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[darkthistle]

Doecry. One of the more pitiful souls in camp- ones he disliked almost as much as kittypets and their brood. Rogue-born, brought into the camp on the cusp of apprentice age, followed by death and promise of attack by a different rogue. He hated her, her sister, her sibling, for appearing on the coattails of such chaos. Hate might've been a strong word, but he.. no, he didn't care.

Sharp amber eyes scanned the Thunderpath as they arrived, perhaps out of instinct to look for the shadow-caped clanners he once thought were cool. A young kit then, foolish and afraid of the dark, but still so interested in how they could see and move. A sigh left him then, ears almost missing the question the soft-hearted warrior asked. Darkthistle's eyes turned toward Sproutberry, then towards the Thunderpath. Well, was there?

A glint in the distance- that's what warned him first, and a traitorous, near gleeful grin spread over his face. He could be rid of her- Fallowbite and Antlerpoison would be told it was a mistake, an accident, she just stepped too far out. His ear twitched toward Sproutberry, a silent 'watch this' bidden to the younger, before the smaller was stepping forward. "Hm.. I don't see anything." He said, voice a hint louder so that Doecry couldn't hear the incoming rumbling, and-

He stepped back just enough to turn and slam his flank into hers, shoving her into the monster's approaching path. He scampered back, snorting to himself about how close he almost came to getting hurt. ​

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"speech"​

 

[doepath ࿔]

cw; car related injury

Her nose scrunches, ears flicking back towards her clan-mates to listen for their replies. Sproutberry's practically singing, a hum soft and bored as he scans their surroundings. Nothing. How odd.... Shouldn't there be another patrol across the path... It left their borders wide open not to meet the ThunderClanners here. If she were a more ambitious cat, the opportunity to steal prey was gaping at them and could be taken advantage of.

She doesn't think to suggest it out loud, having no wish to be dragged into such dangerous scheming and from just behind her Darkthistle speaks loudly to confirm- there is nothing. Everything is fine. A small breath is released in relieved sigh, glad to be done then with this leg of their patrol. Eventless, for once, nothing for her to fear.

Her pads skid across the rough earth suddenly, stumbling forward as she's pushed into the Thunderpath- Doecry gasps sharply, turning to glance back at the obsidian-furred tom with a furious glower, "What are you-"

Her vision swims with an overwhelm of blinding yellows- startling as it consumes her senses. The ground shakes under-paw, unsteady and disorienting; this wasn't the sun. There are no soft blues of summer breeze, the fluffy wisps of clouds.... it should be decorated in oranges, streaked by pink and awash with evening purples. It isn't the sun.

The noise is loud, like a thunderstorm has found itself centered above her head and it booms with the threat of striking at her, just the same way it'd once done to Sootstar, far before she'd ever known the clans. It's blinding... deafening, robs her of her thoughts, instincts frozen by the crescendo of sensation-

A deer in headlights.

The monster lunges over her hungrily, paws tugging at fur, crushing beneath its weight. It feels like it's happening to someone else, the fawn notices, the way it distantly feels like burning, the suffocating squeeze in her chest. If the monster feels remorse, it doesn't show it, growling and prowling down the road as quickly as it had come.

What was even the point of its hunt... to leave its prey there, abandoned and uneaten...? StarClan.... would hate you... Vision dances, sliding from the blurry shifting of grass and dark pelts towards the dimming sky. She thinks she sees the twinkle of the evening's first stars... but maybe they're just her own stars, swirling around in a panic that she doesn't wholly feel. A mouth moves to weakly bleat for help, stuttered in shaking breaths but it doesn't feel like hers.... She doesn't remember speaking.

Doecry swallows thickly, dizzied as she turns to look for ThunderClan's side of the border- which way was the right way? How far had she been pushed, had she rolled? It's closer than she remembered... Almost like she'd never been forced into the road at all... splayed along the wayside in a mangled pile. She closes her eyes to blink away the stars... and then there is darkness.​

 

[Sproutberry]

Technically he is telling the truth, technically there was no monster when the older feline asks if there is something in the way, and technically Sproutberry would have said something out of habit, warning the other of the danger if she were to step onto the acrid path. He sees the flick of Darkthistle's ears though, the silent motion enough to draw the attention of the warrior that could see while the other struggled to do so, so silent he remained as the yellow fleck of the glow of the eyes of the large metal beast began to barrel towards their direction. He watches as amusement trickles through the two felines before Doecry is shoved before the sickening thud of body against metal and road reaches the tom's ears and he flinches.

Not for the ThunderClanner that he was sure was lost here and now, not for the act of murder that they had just commit on a cat that was not of kittypet blood, but for the sound that rang within his ears and would surely play within his head for the nights to come. Would he relish in the fact one was dead, that he was yet again involved in the greater good for what ThunderClan could be instead of what it had become over moons of doing nothing and allowing the weak in? She had been weak he was sure or else StarClan would not have allowed this to happen, would have intervened. He stared up at the sky for just a moment before eyes would look over to his clanmate and offer the other a grin. "We should get back, let our clanmates know she tried to run across the path and didn't listen to our warnings, hm?" It didn't matter if it was a blatant lie, whether it was the truth or not he was sure many clanmates wouldn't believe them so why did it matter if they chose to save face or not?

AN ANTHEM OF DEATH ๑ SINGS OUT A CRY

• --

• 

• ๑ SH chocolate tabby/lilac chimera w/low white, heterochromia, folded ears
  ๑ rarely talks, listens to conversations
  ๑ 12 moons old; ages the 20th every month
  ๑ bisexual biromantic ; interested in no one
  ๑ currently being mentored by Bigfang
  ๑ not easy to befriend/interact with; slow to anger, slow to calm
  ๑ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ๑ easy in combat due to age
  ๑ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[darkthistle]

There is a sickening satisfaction- hearing Doecry bleat for help, like a little lost fawn that just lost it's mother. Speaking of, he briefly recalls that Fallowbite had killed it's mother not too long before Howlingstar's rightful fall. A long slow breath left him, the irony not lost on him as he turned his vision towards Sproutberry. A grin spread across his lips, just as placated as the other before his head nodded. "Yes, we should. Let's, hm?" He prompted.

Tail swayed as he prowled through the undergrowth- his scent fading just as his pelt disappeared into the darkness. No, he didn't even bother to look back to see her prone form laid upon the Thunderpath, barely noticing if Sproutberry trailed after him. He had faith that the other would regardless of what happened.​

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"speech"​

 

[scalejaw]

★ The acrid scent of the Thunderpath burned her nose- though she was used to the scent, considering her eyes no longer watered, and it was like an old familiar friend, seeing it once more. It twisted between territories, making it incredibly hard to make it to Shadowclan without risk. Perhaps that's why other clans didn't often threaten them- maybe that, and Shadowclan was known for being wraiths in the dark of night.

No, but it was still bright out as Scalejaw moved through the underbrush. Her thoughts had been elsewhere, perhaps with a smoky tabby pelt, perhaps with a darker one. Her glowing-coal eyes were half lidded as she moved parallel to the Thunderpath. The screeching of a Monster had her head snapping up, wondering if she was about to become carrion-kill- but no, it wasn't for her. Confusion swept through her, vision pinned to a small form across the black cursed path.

Her breath caught as she looked on. Scalejaw hadn't seen Thunderclan this last gathering- and couldn't remember if she recognized that pelt in specific. That didn't matter. What did matter was the two cats standing there staring on for but a moment, and slipping away. Scalejaw's lips curled back. What was going on? Did she just witness a murder? Were those rogues in Thunderclan's territory?

Broad shoulders pushed free from the sparse undergrowth on her side of the Thunderpath, vision snapping back and forth before darting across with skilled paws, her tufted tail streaming behind her. She drew close to Doecry, teeth sinking into the scruff of the other. Not much attention was paid to how hard she bit down, snarling with effort as she dragged Doecry back to Thunderclan's side of the Thunderpath. "Hold on. Hold on!" She spat out, stumbling in the different grasses beneath oak branches.

This cat was a far younger one- barely a warrior. Glowing coal eyes searched for signs of life, and with the ragged breathing in her ears, she turned her head to cry out for Thunderclan.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── MESSES WITH YOUR SANITY ⋅❁⋅ TWISTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AROUND ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• SCALEJAW 🌧 she/her, warrior of shadowclan, sixty three moons.
  ★ A SH black/LH blue smoke chimera with glowering orange eyes, tufts of fur that make her look dragon-akin, and scars that she wears with pride. motherly and stern attitude, with a warm streak for clanmates and a cruel streak for enemies.
  ★ mentoring no one
  ★ padding after no one / / mother to bonerattle, nightwhisper, and shadefall
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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