cw: violence
A sleek-scaled trout flops on the riverside at his paws. With a sense of smug satisfaction, Hemlockshine bends to deliver the killing bite. Fish blood coats his tongue, making his mouth water. He can't wait to get back to camp and tuck into a good meal with Pikemaw or one of his siblings. The dark-furred tom grips it in his jaws and straightens, turning to acknowledge the set of paw-steps behind him.
It isn't his Clanmates who stare back at him, but a trio of strangers - rogues. On RiverClan territory. Hemlockshine flexes his claws. How he wishes he could spend time teaching them a lesson they won't forget, or might not even live to learn, but their eyes are fixed on his catch and oh, that won't do. He tosses the fish down between his paws and takes a swipe at the nearest one. The blow misses, merely ruffling the vagabond's whiskers. Cursing inwardly, Hemlockshine raises his voice to call the alarm - "Rogues! I need backup!"
One abruptly lurches for him, and Hemlockshine is too slow to prevent a shove to his chest. The fish is swiped out from underneath him by a deft paw. "Too slow, fish-breath," the rogue taunts, and Hemlockshine sees red. A yowl of pain fills his ears, and blood floods his mouth as he lunges and sinks his teeth into the rogue's jowls. With a jerk of his head, his fangs rip deep furrows through the flesh, pulling up red, bloody tatters. The tom was rather plain anyway. If anything, Hemlockshine would consider the scar this will leave an improvement to make his face a little less boring.
A sleek-scaled trout flops on the riverside at his paws. With a sense of smug satisfaction, Hemlockshine bends to deliver the killing bite. Fish blood coats his tongue, making his mouth water. He can't wait to get back to camp and tuck into a good meal with Pikemaw or one of his siblings. The dark-furred tom grips it in his jaws and straightens, turning to acknowledge the set of paw-steps behind him.
It isn't his Clanmates who stare back at him, but a trio of strangers - rogues. On RiverClan territory. Hemlockshine flexes his claws. How he wishes he could spend time teaching them a lesson they won't forget, or might not even live to learn, but their eyes are fixed on his catch and oh, that won't do. He tosses the fish down between his paws and takes a swipe at the nearest one. The blow misses, merely ruffling the vagabond's whiskers. Cursing inwardly, Hemlockshine raises his voice to call the alarm - "Rogues! I need backup!"
One abruptly lurches for him, and Hemlockshine is too slow to prevent a shove to his chest. The fish is swiped out from underneath him by a deft paw. "Too slow, fish-breath," the rogue taunts, and Hemlockshine sees red. A yowl of pain fills his ears, and blood floods his mouth as he lunges and sinks his teeth into the rogue's jowls. With a jerk of his head, his fangs rip deep furrows through the flesh, pulling up red, bloody tatters. The tom was rather plain anyway. If anything, Hemlockshine would consider the scar this will leave an improvement to make his face a little less boring.
┌── i wonʼt soothe your pain
⋆⋅☾⋅⋆
i wonʼt ease your strain ──┐
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three rogues are ganging up on hemlockshine and will end up making off with his fish :(
@owlpaw. apprentice tag -
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HEMLOCKSHINE ✩ he/him, warrior of riverclan, twenty-two moons
⭃ a tall, lithe black smoke tom with blue eyes and low white. he is cold, composed, and willing to resort to manipulation to get what he wants. he is incredibly vain, to the point that anyone who mars his pretty face is in for a world of pain. please note that hemlockshine will be prone to saying and doing awful things that i, as his roleplayer, do not condone. all of his opinions are ic only.
⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
⭃ penned by solaire ↛ @funeralscythe on discord, feel free to ping for plots.
