WHEN DOES A RIPPLE BECOME A TIDAL WAVE [CLAIMING SUNNINGROCKS]

[Flamestar]

Her opponent starts slinking backwards...He's going to run, just like the cowards they are! she thinks to herself. He spews more words, and all she does in response is narrow her eyes. The river is the border! There is no reason you should have claimed it in the first place! she responds in her mind. She would respond, but she didn't want to waste her breath trying to talk sense into a brick wall.

The fiery she-cat took a step towards him, preparing to send him with a few more wounds to remember her by. She didn't realize until it was too late just how close to the river's edge they were. By the time she realized, he had already made his move. A shadow engulfed her pelt as he reared upwards, twisting his claws into her thick neck fur. Her eyes widened in horror, and before she knew it she was headed towards the water. "HEL-" Her cry was cut off as she was plunged into the rushing waters.

Water roared around her, beating her from every direction. Her paws would stretch outwards, attempting to do anything she could to break away from her attacker. Bubbles came from her mouth as she frantically exhaled. I can't die...I can't swim! Her eyes were round with sheer horror as she watched Snakeblink break away, and leave her. She let out a terrified cry, the rest of her small breath that she had taken before being plunged into the depths leaving her body.

She kicked her back legs, flailed her front legs, anything and everything to try to swim to the surface...but it was no use. The water was too strong. Her body was tossed and thrown around like it was nothing. She could feel herself growing weaker...her desperate actions growling slower..until sheer darkness consumed her.

I'm sorry...

/
@Snakeblink

[₊⋆]​

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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

His attack connects, claws cleaving sickeningly into the petal-soft flesh of her eyelid. He has to wrench them free from her face, and the damage he's left is horrific. His breathing, so fast before, hitches in his throat; his lungs solidify into stone. His opponent shrivels away from him, her shriek of agony splitting the air. "Get away from me!" Her cry is helpless with pain, with fear, and Raccoonstripe's body stills entirely, vision tunneling so that no one else is visible.

She morphs before him, the eye becoming a neck snapped from the force of powerful gripping jaws. Her mouth is parted, the cry for her son's life ending in a death rattle that reverberates.

He begins to shake. No matter how he blinks away the sight of the queen he'd killed at Fourtrees, she remains in front of him, a grisly phantom he can't escape. His throat begins to close up, and he starts to choke. "I didn't... mean..." His dark eyes fall to his paws. Then, and now, they are crimson with sins he cannot cleanse himself of.

Raccoonstripe's mouth fills with blood, and he can't spit it out. He can't, his jaws are locked, his body won't cooperate--

"LILYBLOOM! NO!" The vision is cut with physical force; one of her Clanmates shoves him back several steps. The queen with the bent neck becomes the RiverClan tortoiseshell again, whimpering and maimed. The cat who stands over her protectively, back arched and teeth bared, is Lakemoon.

Lakemoon. His body begins to thaw, and he spits on the ground, trying to rid his mouth of the tang of blood -- it's nothing but spittle, his mouth is too dry to even produce that much. He's shaking, shaking so badly that Lakemoon trembles in his vision. She is speaking to him, a threat. "Run, and pray that our paths never cross again." Her voice is what drives him another step backward, more than any threat -- the way she sounds heartbroken, the way she sounds betrayed.

His eyes shift from Lakemoon to the tortoiseshell cowering away from him, and he remembers the way they'd stood beside each other before the battle's commencement. The tortoiseshell and Lakemoon are more than Clanmates, he realizes belatedly.

"You are no kin to me," she spits, and he knows it's true. It was true before the battle had started, had been true the day she'd chosen to leave her family for another Clan.

He does not attempt to speak, but the look he gives her in return is starkly horrified. He fears he may not be able to move at all -- that Lakemoon will take it as an invitation to attack him, and that he will be unable to retaliate -- but almost mercifully, he's driven back by another cat, a gray tabby who spits at him to turn tail and run. She swipes at his face, and Raccoonstripe does not try to evade. He hardly flinches as blood weals from the cut she's drawn over his muzzle.

Almost dumbfoundedly, Raccoonstripe brings his paw to his face so he can wipe the blood away -- until he sees the liquid still draining between his paw pads.

// interacted with @Lakemoon . and @hyacinthbreath​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[LILYBLOOM.]

Through all the pain, Lilybloom is only vaguely aware of what was going on. The brown tabby tom stands over her with an expression that she can't quite read - in part thanks to her increasingly blurred vision. She could swear he looks as though he is trembling, but maybe it is just her own shakes distorting her vision.

LILYBLOOM! NO!

She recognises Lakemoon's scream above the sound of fighting, but she's too disoriented to make out which direction it came from, having lost sight of her mate once the fighting began. She isn't left searching for long until Lakemoon's form suddenly appears beside her shoving the brown tabby out of the way and warning him about crossing paths again before telling him he is no kin of hers. Kin? Lilybloom thinks faintly. He is Lakemoon's family? She knew Lakemoon had kin in ThunderClan so there was always an inevitability they would meet on the battle, but how ironic it is for a cat who shares her blood to be the one who mauled Lilybloom so.

Lakemoon hovers over her, fussing over her and checking for any fatal wounds. As she does so Hyacinthbreath also approaches, sending a swipe in the direction of her assailant. Lilybloom doesn't know if he retaliates or not however, her attention - or what little of it she can muster - is solely focused on her mate.

"Please help me," She sobs. "I don't want to die here." Her wounds aren't fatal but at that moment it's all she can think about with all the blood and pain. She had vowed to give blood for these rocks but not like this...never like this.

Lilybloom attempts to rise to her paws but its clear the effort of doing so is taxing her greatly. She's shaky and nervous, and practically puts her whole weight against Lakemoon, like a kitten taking their first pawsteps. "I can't see..." She whimpers. "I can't see! How will I get home?"


/ interacting with @Lakemoon .

mentioning @RACCOONSTRIPE & @hyacinthbreath
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[Rabbitnose]

He could feel his breath catch in his throat, his chest tighten as he was too deep in the water for his liking. He couldn't handle this much longer. He trembled as he struggled to free himself, to flee the water that now lapped at his chest. He couldn't die like this. Not in the water. Not that he could afford to die in any way.... He had a wonderful mate and wonderful children- he couldn't leave them. Clayfur lurched and for an instant, Rabbitnose was submerged.

And that's when Rabbitnose lost it. He kicked and screeched in terror for only a moment before he felt the grip on him disappear. Righting himself, he reemerged from the water with eyes widened in terror. Sunfreckle had broken away from his fight to rescue him... He looked over at the large red tom as Clayfur disengaged. Sunfreckle and Clayfur barely existed at the moment as his vision remained unfocused in fear. He wanted to faint. He wanted out of this situation.

He pressed his face into Sunfreckle's fur, one brief moment of comfort. "Thank you...." He near whimpered. He pulled away, only to hear a cry that froze his blood.

Flamewhisker was being swept away... Dragged into the river by a Riverclan warrior.

"FLAMEWHISKER!!!" He cried out. He tried to wade deeper, try to get closer to her... But it was no use. He couldn't swim.... An d she was too far away.

She couldn't die like this! She has too much to live for...! And yet... He was powerless to help her. He returned to Sunfreckle's side.... With a new expression. He was still rattled with terror, but something new lurked beneath his skin now. Something he didn't usually have.

Bloodlust.

How quickly he discarded his choice to not kill anyone. He had told Badgerstrike not to kill anyone either, but he knows she's likely thrown that down the river and is trying to maul her opponent. He'd normally lecture her... But now he wouldn't. She was going to kill someone?

Good. Let her.

Fury boiled forth and despite his wounds, he searched for a new target.

This bloodlust was something he wondered about. Was it hereditary? Even his sweetest sister had a violent streak in her. These were questions he would likely never find the answer to, and they didn't matter right now. A switch had been flipped, and he couldn't flip it off until these rocks were theirs.

He looked to Sunfreckle. "How about we fight together?" He asked.

Together, they would not be stopped.

@Sunfreckle and letting @CLAYFUR go!
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[BEESONG]

there is not an end in sight.

the blood has not been washed from the beech copse, and thunderclan is encroaching on their territory. demanding riverclan relinquish sunningrocks to them, and if they did not get what they want, they would take it by force. it is a neverending cycle of violence; beesong had once thought kindly of the forest-dwelling clan, built on the backbone of emberstar's kindness. but the thunderclan he held in high regard died the same day that emberstar had, it seems. howlingstar demands and demands for something that was never rightfully hers, and now she intends to spill blood for it. any remnants of respect he clung onto for thunderclan shatters as quickly as the air erupts with the screeches of those interlocking bodies in battle.

riverclan couldn't win this, could they? beesong thinks sourly, a flutter of fear beating in their chest as they watch from the sidelines. not when most of their soldiers are plastered in poultices and cobwebs, still licking their wounds from the windclan raid only a quarter-moon ago. thunderclan does not own sunningrocks, they are not owed anything for handling their own problem, but cicadastar should have swallowed that damned pride of his and let her have it. he should've bided his time and waited for riverclan to recover and strengthen before he flashed his claws. but that's never been the type of tom he is, and beesong curses him for it.

his name tears from the desperate lips of lakemoon, a sorrowful crescendo that rises even above the yowls of war. hyacinthbreath's own scream echoes. beesong's moving before the tail-end of his name leaves the windclan exile's mouth, weaving through clashing warriors until he sees the source of anguish; lilybloom has collapsed into a bloody heap, gushing from a deep laceration along the right side of her face. she's wailing, tears mixing with the crimson, flanks heaving with building panic. i can't see, she cries. beesong's ear pins against his head. if the wound is as deep as he thinks it is... could he look around the battlefield and find a verdant green eyeball?

it doesn't matter... what's done is done, there is no fixing a damaged eye. beesong rushes to lilybloom's other side, attempting to try and help the tortoiseshell back onto her shaking paws. hyacinthbreath strikes out at a brown tabby that beesong could only assume is the cause of lilybloom's wounds, and they're acutely aware of the danger around them. their heart pounds in their ear like war drums. they couldn't take the risk of treating lilybloom in the thick of the fray; they needed to get her away from the fight, where both she and beesong wouldn't be at the mercy of a thunderclanner's claws. "calm down, lilybloom. deep breaths." panicking in the middle of a battlefield would do no one any good... and it certainly wouldn't make their job any easier. they take a deep breath of their own, a nervous hum reverberating in their throat. "lakemoon, help me guide her to the edge of sunningrocks." they tip their head towards where they'd hidden a small portion of their stock, away from the fighting, for the emergencies that would inevitably come.

[ interacting with @LILYBLOOM. & @Lakemoon . ]​

 

[HOWLINGSTAR]

Her gaze remains fixed on the RiverClanner, green eyes pleading as she waits for him to give in and surrender. She doesn't wish to take this further, and she will not kill an honorable warrior like himself. Before he can even respond, however, a weight slams into her, a grunt escaping as her shoulder hits the ground. Caught off guard, she blinks up at the face of a different RiverClan warrior; Clayfur, she believes his name to be. It takes her a moment to react after the breath had been knocked out of her, and she screeches in pain as claws and teeth tear at her mercilessly. The tabby rolls and swipes her paws towards his chest in an attempt to ward him off long enough for her to get up, claws unsheathed. She can't go on fighting a battle on her back.

// knocked off of @Riffleheart and fighting @CLAYFUR​

 

[GILLSIGHT]

It gets worse and worse, the more Gillpaw pushes through the battlefield. Blood, screaming. It's never-ending.

And, if Gillpaw didn't know any better - if Gillpaw hadn't been aware of the injuries he carries from moorland claws - he'd say ThunderClan was a worse opponent than WindClan. More vile, more violent. It's only because RiverClan's been weakened, the apprentice tries to convince himself. If ThunderClan would have sought out this battle earlier, if they hadn't waited on word that RiverClan was already struggling, then, perhaps this would have gone differently.

Perhaps all trust in the pine forest wouldn't be diminished. Perhaps Clearsight would be here too.

There's a ThunderClanner atop Fernpaw, his fellow apprentice struggling to free himself. It is but one struggle amidst a sea of them, but it's the one that Gillpaw's gaze latches onto. If he can help Fernpaw, if he can help any of his clanmates, maybe they'll have a better chance at surviving this thing.

Pushing through stinging pain in his shoulders, white paws race over to the scene, claws unsheathed. Gillpaw leaps at the ThunderClanner, hoping to knock them off course and aiming to give Fernpaw a chance to escape. "G-Go!" he tries to shout to the orange tom in the process.

His limbs are tired, aching, and unsteady. Gillpaw's landing after his attempted strike is nothing graceful, a stumble to the ground beneath him as he collides into the form of another ThunderClanner. Eyes go wide at the grey-furred feline before him, claws preparing to strike.

// attacking @STORMYPAW, briefly interacting with @FERNPAW, and colliding into @Cloudypaw !​

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[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

They fall into the dark water together, Snakeblink’s paws tangled in her fur. The river swallows them, closes over their heads; her fiery pelt darkens, waterlogged. Thunderclan are a clan for forest fires: they cannot live long in the cold destruction that water brings.

Her paws extend his way, trying to claw at him again, but the current wrenches them apart before she can do more damage. Silver bubbles wreath them both as she exhales: Like a kit learning to swim, he thinks scornfully, kicking his legs to put some distance between them.

Wide and wild eyes stare at him at he swims towards the surface, and he corrects his assessment: like a kit drowning for the first time. Of course she cannot swim. Why would Thunderclan teach this life-saving skill to its warriors before claiming a river-rock for themselves?

It’s never pretty, watching someone drown: the flailing as they are unable to find the surface, let alone swim towards it, the vital air leaving their lungs in a few last panicked gasps. Snakeblink considers reaching for her — but a drowning cat will easily drown you along with them, and his shoulder pulses with pain even as the thought crosses his mind, blood flowing in the dark current that carries her away, quickly out of sight.

Resolute, he kicks his legs until he reaches the surface near the Thunderclan side, gasping for air.

If she’s lucky the current will carry her to Skyclan territory, and she can lay claim to more land that doesn’t belong to her clan there.
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——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• ooc: injured and open for more attacks. kick his ass!
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 37 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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[CLAYFUR]

Howlingstar tumbles to the ground beneath his weight and Clay is grateful for it. The movement drags her off of the RiverClan warrior, and briefly Clay hopes that Riffleheart will have the chance to escape from the apprentice that had been at Howlingstar’s side. Maybe he’ll even keep the little forest-kit out of the way. But he doesn’t turn to look; his focus remains solely on the face of the she-cat below him.

Howlingstar. He hadn’t even thought twice about her, about the threat that she posed, until she and Cicadastar had faced off across the river. He’d thought ThunderClan an ally, despite how much he disliked Emberstar—and thought that maybe the leader after her would be less hypocritical, less demanding. But it seems the next ThunderClan leader is no better than the first. Worse, even.

Clayfur had been there, at their camp, as the forest fire raged around them. He wonders if she recognizes him, now. He wonders if she cares. She obviously doesn’t—can’t—care about him, or any of the RiverClanners around him. Not if she’s willing to take this from them.

She doesn’t react for a few heartbeats—his claws rip through long fur and into the skin below, her screeches drowning out the sounds of battle around them. In this moment, nothing else matters. There is no concern about SkyClan rushing to their aid, no concern for his clanmates’ already-wounded states, no concern for his own safety as he faces down a foe who could easily have killed Riffleheart if given only a few more moments.

There is only her. And he’s caught her off guard, but she isn’t giving up. "You can’t take him," he snarls at the tabby leader, wide-eyed as he bears down upon the dark-striped leader with his claws. She rolls, strikes out with a paw, and the feeling of claws tearing through his chest is the final push that he needs.

Blood drips from his chest, pools in brown fur; he can see the red of it in his periphery. It’s only a heartbeat, but it feels like ages. His paws slip from their placement, but he manages to stay upright; his tail lashes violently behind him, keeping him balanced even as his head spins once again. But he doesn’t waste more time slashing and clawing at her, hoping to make a difference. He recalls Cicada’s own attack during the WindClan raid, only a brief glimpse in the midst of battle—a bite to the throat, a wound that, if placed well, could easily kill.

He draws his head back, locking eyes with her for barely a moment—wild, set adrift, hardly able to think past the hatred that pours through his veins. Then, in a sloppy, swift move, his teeth aim to sink in, in, in, right into her neck. Make her regret staking her claim on these rocks. Make them all regret it.

He just prays that he doesn’t miss his mark.

// @HOWLINGSTAR
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[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[HOWLINGSTAR]

CW: blood, death, fear of death

Clayfur is unyielding, his barrage of attacks endless with no pause. She can't get up, she can only feel her pelt grow wetter with her own blood. She screeches, tries harder to bat him away, and he roars something. Did she hear him right? Take who? The RiverClan warrior? She wouldn't have taken him! She's no murderer; she was showing mercy! Of course, the true meaning of his words were lost on her. "I wasn't- going to- kill him!" She urges between swipes, her teeth gritted as she tries to fight back while she's pressed against the ground. She has nowhere to go, no escape but the look in his eyes is becoming frightening. Her swipes become desperate, not only to win but to live. It's at this moment she realizes she is in true danger.

Her shrieks become filled with fear as she fights to get away, but he keeps her down. Their eyes meet - wild versus terrified - before he lunges for her throat. She yowls but it's cut short. Only faint gurgling can be heard from her as wide eyes stare back at him. For a moment, she no longer sees Clayfur. She sees Trufflepelt, standing over her bloodied form with his paw stained red. His sickening smile as he turns and leaves her to die alone in the that clearing. She didn't want to die then and she doesn't want to die now. Her paws flex, a leg weakly kicks as she struggles to breathe. Blood seeps from her mouth and nose, but not as quickly as it pools around her neck. Tears prick her eyes. I don't want to die. I'm not ready.

But she recalls the Moonstone. StarClan. The power she felt as nine cats she'd known and cared for in some way granted her their wisdom and a life in turn. She'd watched with her own eyes as Emberstar came back from the dead after Cinderfrost slaughtered her. Howlingstar would come back, too.

With a final jolt and strained breath, the ThunderClan leader falls still as her first life leaves her. When she opens her eyes, she can see her body, see her loves ones still fighting, and all she can do is wait and watch while her body repairs itself.​

 

[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
There is no time to thank Hyacinthbreath to aid in driving Raccoonstripe away, her mate is groaning, pleading for the silver warrior to help her.
She lets Lilybloom lean against her, the feeling of her mates warm blood seeping to her skin makes her sick.
"I’ve got you, I’ve got you" she whispers helplessly into the injured mollys ear, gathering her closer with a feathered tail and curved stance. Squeezing her own eyes shut as the image of Raccoonstripe’s horrified stare sears into her brain.
"I’m so sorry Lilybloom, I’m so sorry" she whispers, though not directly into a brindled ear.
Beesong‘s arrival can not come soon enough, and Lakemoon follows their orders without so much as a hitched breath.
Carefully, she guides the tortoiseshell towards where their healer had gestured, murmuring soft but futile comforts to her.
She’d attempt to ease her to the ground, where Beesong could properly examine Lilybloom as Lakemoon took a step back, crimson liquid that splashed against her blue fur now staining brown and cold as it began to dry. "Please, please, please…" the pleading is under her breath, unheard by the duo in front of her. She begged to the hidden stars, to the cats from above that watched them.
Just make it stop! Just make it stop!
As if on cue, fear-stricken shrieks begin to ring above the sounds of snarls and battle cries. Lakemoon turns, and is greeted with only another nightmarish sight.
Clayfur batters at her grandmother, too bruised and bloodied to manage more than a pitiful kick upwards.
His teeth pull back, and Lakemoon’s voice splinters as she cries out yet again, though it is no more than one word, one name. "CLAYFUR!" It is a cry of protest, of desperation, but it is easily drowned out by the turmoil that surrounds them.
Bared fangs plunge deep, and the striped form of her grandmother stops writhing.
Lakemoon grimaces for a heartbeat, but her expression quickly pulls to defeat.
Howlingstar would return, that she knows deep down, but the grief that tears her heart to shreds is ignorant. Her paws cannot move, cannot rush to her alongside the rest of her family as they once would have.
Just make it stop.
"speech"

tags​

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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Raccoonstripe is jolted from his paralysis by a shriek permeating the war-torn air. He would recognize his mother's voice even in the depths of the hell he would inevitably succumb to. Her voice has comforted him since he'd been cupped within her womb. It's the terror in it now that stops him, and he's breathless, turning to gaze with horror as some RiverClanner delivers a killing bite to her neck.

Lakemoon's cry is background noise to him. Raccoonstripe gives a yowl of fear, shouldering the silver warrior who'd clawed him aside and bounding towards the shuddering body of his mother. "What have you done! Howlingstar!" He would attempt to shove Clayfur away from her, too caught up in his grief to attempt to fight him further. His ears are flat, his dark, striped fur spiked along his spine.

He'd been proud of her ascension to ThunderClan leader only moons ago, but never could he imagine how it would be to watch his mother spasm and cease, eyes eclipsed with the film of death. He sinks his claws into the earth, and the next time he screeches it is not for his mother. "BERRYHEART!"​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[LIGHTNINGSTONE]

// retreating from @Dewfang to help @LILYBLOOM. cross the river, talking to @BEESONG

Satisfaction wells up in him as he feels his claws slice through flesh. He sees the scarlet dripping from the ThunderClanner's nose and his lets out a hiss, as if challenging, You ready for more?

But the brown-furred warrior is faster than he looks. He charges into Lightningstone, knocking him onto his back and the breath leaves his lungs in a harsh grunt. The scratches that now adorn his pelt sting as he climbs to his paws, teeth bared. He levels Dewfang with a glare but a wailing distracts him, a curled ear flicking towards the river. He spares a quick glance and sees one of their own, face bloodied and mauled, and oh stars she's blinded. She needs help crossing the river; Beesong and Lakemoon may not be enough. Wincing from his wounds, he casts another narrow-eyed look towards the ThunderClanner before whirling around and retreating to help his clanmate. "What can I do?" He gruffly asks the medicine cat, coming to a halt beside the water.​

 

[STORMYWING]

The ginger apprentice fights to get her off but she holds on tight, growling like a mongrel as she clings to his shoulder. He writhes and wriggles but her teeth remain fastened firmly to his shoulder. Perhaps, if given a few more seconds, she might've begun to shake like a dog, too! But his kicks to her stomach send her wincing, not as hard as she'd expected but he's beginning to unsheathe his claws. "Stoff!" She complains, muffled by his pelt.

Before they can continue to tussle, she is knocked off by another RiverClan apprentice. "Hey!" She yowls as she slides away through the dirt, brows furrowing in anger. The apprentice collides with her sister who had been right next to her and the small tabby snarls protectively. "Get away from her!" She leaps, attempting to tackle Gillpaw in a tangle of claws and fur.

// interacting with @FERNPAW @Cloudypaw @GILLPAW​

 

[CLAYFUR]

CW: blood & description of death


He doesn’t hear his name being called, doesn’t hear the screaming of ThunderClan’s leader as he tears into skin, into flesh. Howlingstar’s own words mean nothing to him—she wasn’t going to kill Clearsight, wasn’t going to take sunningrocks, wasn’t going to take away everything he loves. She wasn’t going to kill… anyone.

His fangs reach their mark, and her cry is cut off; gurgling sounds rise from her throat, blood fills his mouth, coats his face, his chin. He can feel the wounds on his chest sticking, fur matted by blood that seems to just keep coming. He doesn’t let go until she falls still, though, until he doesn’t see the shifting of her chest anymore. He unlocks his jaw, looks into dulled green eyes. "I hope it hurt," he says under his breath, like the wounds upon her body will fix those on his heart. Like any amount of pain inflicted would ever be enough to heal what feels lost and shattered inside.

He steps back, away from the fallen leader’s still form. She’ll come back. If he could, he’d keep going; he’d rip every life from her corpse, while it’s still just that. But he’s not without his own wounds, and ThunderClanners are paying attention to him now. Besides, she may return, but she will remember. She will wear his rage like a scar for the rest of her days—short as he hopes they’ll be.

His mouth is full of blood. Her blood. He can taste the iron of it, will probably taste it for days to come. Will probably feel it on his fur, like the phantom of his own mate’s blood, for an eternity. He spits a glob of it onto the ground beside Howlingstar, adding to the mess he’s made of the rocks.

He’s half stricken by horror at what he’s done, half satisfied. She’d gone too far; WindClan took his love but ThunderClan stepped on his grave (of course, not his actual grave, Clearsight probably would have hated to be buried this far from their camp). And even as he’s roughly shoved away from her by a furious ThunderClan warrior, his gaze remains steadily on Howlingstar for a few heartbeats.

She’ll come back, he’s sure of it. The wretched star of her name makes that much clear. She is marked by the stars, by StarClan—the same StarClan that allowed his Clearsight to die, and then allowed ThunderClan to lay claim to sunningrocks, to try and take this place from him. Howlingstar’s family will not yet know the irreversible loss of their loved one; what satisfaction does killing her give him, when she’ll only return to life before the day is done?

He recalls Smokethroat’s words, just a few days ago. The tom had said something along the lines of… It never gets easier, watching a loved one die, even if they have spare lives enough to return from the grave. Good, he thinks, and it’s ash in his head, all scattered and swirling. Let them know this feeling of loss.

The wounds across his body burn, hot like brands of love, of grief, of fury. He moves on bloodstained paws further away from the temporary corpse that he’s made of the ThunderClanner, feeling remarkably detached from himself. He has to find Gillpaw, make sure he’s not lying dead or dying somewhere across the rocks. Lilybloom has her mate, Howlingstar has her clan, but Gill has no one to look after him, to defend him if he’s overwhelmed in battle. No mentor to have his back. But Clay can’t lose him, too. Can’t lose another piece of his mate to the claws of another clan.

His eyes are wide, unfocused, as he stumbles off toward the river. His gait is quick, impeded as it is by sluggish, exhausted limbs. He swings his head around, hoping to catch sight of black-and-white fur, of bright yellow eyes, and the movement sends his vision blurring for a heartbeat. "Gill?"
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[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[Cloudyfur]

Cloudypaw had come to protect her sister, but Stormypaw was making it clear she didn't need it. Though she had other family in this battle too, it was Stormypaw she had worried most for. Pebblepaw would keep out of danger best he could, and Flycatcher was a seasoned warrior. Her sister though, she was too brave for her own good. Cloudypaw's fear had been that she would throw herself at a Riverclanner three times her size without hesitation, and be torn to shreds for her efforts.

Instead, Stormypaw fought like a true warrior. Fending off any who dared challenge her with tooth and claw. Cloudypaw could barely recognize her from their days together in their twoleg's den. Her sister had taken to their new home well.

Cloudypaw herself had done little, she was too uncertain, too terrified. The thought of striking another cat with her claws was not something she could stomach easily, and she found herself paralyzed by the tide of blood all around her. She had never seen so much of it. She hadn't even thought it was possible. Every time she glanced about she saw new horrors, each injury making her stomach turn, no matter whether it was on friend or foe. It was all terrible. She tried not to look, instead keeping her attentions fixed on Stormypaw, shadowing her sister's every move in case she was ever in danger.

A terrible cry of fear, unlike anything she had ever heard, drew her attention away. Her ears flattening against her head, Cloudypaw turned and saw, distantly, a Riverclan tom pinning her leader down and opening his jaws.

The Riverclanner's teeth sink into Howlingstar's neck.

The memory of Emberstar's bloodied, broken body being brought back into camp flooded her mind, and she froze. The battle faded away around her as she stared. There was a scream in her throat that she couldn't force out and it was choking her. Her clan was going to lose another leader, for a moment she was certain of it. It didn't matter how many lives Howlingstar still had, why would it? It hadn't mattered for Emberstar.

A body slammed into her, knocking her out of her thoughts. She stumbled before whirling around fearfully to face the Riverclanner, expecting to be mauled on the spot.

Instead, she saw Stormypaw, leaping valiantly to her defense. She had come to protect her sister and instead her sister was protecting her. Some apprentice she was.

Adrenaline flooded her, the sight of her leader's death still vivid in her mind. That would not happen to her sister. She wouldn't let it. Rushing forward, Cloudypaw swung her claws wildly, clumsily attempting to slash at any exposed part of the Riverclan apprentice she could find while he was distracted by Stormypaw. He would not hurt her sister. There was no chance he could best the both of them, fighting as one.

//interacting with @STORMYPAW @GILLPAW ​

 

[Moonwhisper]

She was smaller than her opponent but not by much, still, the slight edge on height different allowed her to dip and burst past him as he turned them around to try and back her into the water; Moonpaw did not know how to swim nor was she very interested in learning it right now of all times. The tortie point gave a sputtering hiss, raised a paw to swing furiously at his face.

Past Sharpeye she sees a brown tabby launch himself at Howlingstar and for a moment she thinks her grandmother is fine; that she has twisted away from most the of the attack and only pulled back to regain her footing...then she hits the ground. The SkyClanner before her is forgotten entirely, blue gaze widening in horror and she bolts past him with a cry of alarm in her throat and fear registering across her maw. No-no-no, they couldn't lose Howlingstar, not now, not so soon, not her family-what else would StarClan strip from her? What else would she lose because of those sparkling eyes above. It's enough to drive a cat mad, the desperation in her gaze as she finds herself moving alongside her uncle as he pushes away her assailant who walks from them almost casually. Murderer-monster-she debates springing after him but the bright red cascade across the ground falters her steps and she feels the fight leave her.
Her shoulder hurts, aches where claws had been driven into it in an attempt to brand-crisscrossing scars not quite making the intended shape but latticed enough to make clear this was deliberate, this was no war born wound.
"She's going to come back." Moonpaw says, breathless, tearful, her words meant more to console herself than anything else. She wants to cry like a kitten once more. It was like losing Morningpaw a second time.

---

[Ooc]
-Disengaging from @Sharpeye to go to @RACCOONSTRIPE & @HOWLINGSTAR
​

 

[Flycatcher]

Flycatcher is only faintly aware of his clanmates battling around him, so focused is he on his on battling with Darterwing. But a singular shout from Rabbitnose strikes his ear and interrupts his flow.

Flamewhisker!

The rage that contorts his face softens for a moment, shifting to a look of concern as her searches the battlefield for the familiar ginger pelt of his mate. But he cannot see her, only Rabbitnose looking down the river with a horrified expression. In his panic he loosens his grip on the RiverClan warrior and turns away. No...she couldn't be...

Another RiverClan cat emerges from the river on their side of the bank and he vaguely recalls Flamewhisker having grappled with him when the battle began. Slowly pieces begin to fall together and his chest begins to tighten his breath struggling to come. No, no, no, no. He takes a ragged intake of breath and claws flex into the dirt. More shouts draw his attention away again and he can see Howlingstar fallen to the ground in a pool of blood a RiverClan cat being driven away from her by Raccoonstripe. Had Howlingstar just lost a life? Was she losing multiple? Stars, Flycatcher wasn't sure he could cope with much more. It seemed as though ThunderClan had the upper hand but the death of Howlingstar and what had happened to Flamewhisker would surely have shaken them. What they needed was a rallying cry to unite them again. A final push to drive them forward.

Clambering onto a rock where Howlingstar had stood before, Flycatcher addressed his clan. "THUNDERCLAN!" He cried out, voice full of rage and grief. "Warriors and apprentices of ThunderClan I need you!" He did not want to move the kin of Howlingstar from her body so his attention was focused more on the warriors still fighting who might not yet have known of the fate that befell their leader. "ThunderClan turn your anger and grief towards RiverClan. Temper your emotions, let it harden you, let us use it to win this battle. We are ThunderClan! We survived the fire, we drove the dogs away, we kept ShadowClan from our borders. We will have Sunningrocks! We will win this battle!" His green eyes were ablaze now, with a sudden energy he had never possessed before. "Do not let Howlingstar fall in vain!" And Flamewhisker too, he adds silently not wanting to utter those words lest it make them true. "Strike hard, strike true! Drive RiverClan back across the river!"

With his final words delivered, he launches himself back in the fray, making a beeline for Snakeblink. Eyes full of rage and grief. He hoped Flamewhisker would come back...he hoped. But until then he would punish her attacker, he would make him pay for hurting her, for potentially taking her away from their children. "You," He hissed, voice low and threatening. Flycatcher did not say any further words of violence, only pounced, unsheathed claws outstretched with a hope to knock this tom to the ground.

/ Disengaging @DARTERWING
addressing all of ThunderClan and attacking @Snakeblink ​

 

[BERRYHEART]

Screeches filled the area, voices echoing as if they were bouncing off of walls- but steadfast, Berryheart stayed put. He would involve himself only when necessary- it would be foolish to put himself in harm's way when his duty was to heal others who had been hurt. If an injury too grave was carved upon his body, more cats than himself would suffer for it. Thus, despite the prowess he had for battle, he held to the one thing he had championed over his predecessor- restraint.

That was until he heard his brother's shout. Blood choked the air he breathed, but was a dizzying scent he had to push past. And cats, too- anyone who dared step in his way would be paid none of his usual politeness, shoved to the side to carve a path. It was not Stripes who was injured- it was his mother, laid slain on the ground.

Eerily, he was reminded of Emberstar's body. How many of their leaders would die to beasts that occupied these stones?

He ambled over to Big Mama's body, stood over her sentinel-like, and placed a paw upon her ribs. No movement. Blue's words caught his attention, and as the deputy finished his speech- assured ThunderClan to keep pushing, to not falter- he gave an affirmative nod. To any RiverClan warriors who dared encroach the space of Berryheart's vigil over his mother, he would give but one warning: "Don't get closer, and I won't unsheathe my claws."

He was giving them trust- giving them a chance at mercy after one of their own had killed. An ever-calm gaze rove the Thunderclanners, then- some of them bore a film of tears over their eyes, some looked sick, some looked angry. Berryheart bore his stoicism like it was a medal, for there was something in the air that kept him certain. He did not need to look at the blood-weeping wound, would not in case it dizzied his mind. Through moons of medic life he had learned to know StarClan's presence- and could feel them now, knitting his mother's flesh back together.

There, around him- he could sense the lingering soul. "She'll come back to us." Gazing over the witnesses once again, his brows furrowed in thoughtful assertion. Dull eyes found somewhere beyond the realm of sight. Never did Berryheart speak unless it was with conviction- unless he was sure of what he was about to say. "I know it." ​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Snakeblink pulls himself out of the water, shaking with pain and elation as he realizes he won. The river may have done most of the job — but he was the one who dragged Flamewhisker in it, and of the two of them he’s the only one now walking out of it alive. Drenched to his bones, unable to put weight on his injured paw, panting for breath, he still considers it a victory.

The Thunderclan deputy’s voice rings above their heads, rallying his warriors. Howlingstar, dead? Snakeblink curls in the shadows of the stone, eyes tracking the fighting cats, and sees her body in a puddle of blood — sees Clayfur, red down to his chest from dealing the killing blow. A hysterical smile quirks his whiskers up. Thunderclan will find that they bit more than they could chew, trying to steal Sunningrock.

He doesn’t get to bask in his success for long. Despite his efforts, he doesn’t escape Flycatcher’s notice: the blue tabby’s attention zeroes in on him as he hops down from the rock he perched on for his rousing speech. He hisses a threat, loud to Snakeblink’s ears despite the chaos: you. Not anger born from battle but something deeper, more personal, and even without knowing the source of that rage Snakeblink is already trying to backtrack into the river when the other tom pounces on him.

The weight of the other warrior slams into him, sending him sprawling in the mud, water lapping at his tail. Pebbles scrape against his ribs, his back, leaving stinging scratches that he barely feels through the pain of claws digging into his side.

Panic lodges itself in his throat, half-choking him as he tries to wriggle his way free of Flycatcher. He throws his paws up, aiming to claw at the tom’s chest and neck, jaws snapping at anything that comes close enough. He’s breathing hard, struggling to think through the incessant mantra of don’t get pinned, don’t get pinned echoing in his head.​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• ooc: @Flycatcher
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 37 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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