wrong side of heaven ✘ highstones

[SMOKESTAR]

—————————————————————⊰★⊱————————————————————

Smokethroat knows he should have listened to his council, they had not been pushy with their concerns but they had expressed them openly and he had fully recognized it all as reasonable but he wanted so desperately to see him again that it clouded his judgement more than he should have allowed it to. A chance to speak to his former mate in private, without a medicine cat or a lingering clanmate nearby, a chance to be alone with his thoughts afterwards - to sort himself out. He'd already grieved, there was no more mourning to be had but there were so many questions still to be answered and a lot of things he needed to work through. It made sense to go alone, but logically he knew it was a risk. He had left Willowroot at the border and continued his trek in morose silence, the sounds of bird song fading in favor of the shrill chirping of crickets as the dark gradually began to descend down around him. Trees gave way to rolling hills, the sound of the river faded into a low rumble in the distance and he could see the spire looming ahead.
Part of him his nervous, StarClan had always just been an ambient thought, a present he knew of but had never seen; coming face to face with them was both somewhat thrilling but also terrifying in a way he could not fully comprehend.

He slows to a stop, seeing the figures of several cats in the distance and finds himself inwardly groaning in annoyance - he had hoped to not run into a patrol at all on his way there but it only paused him briefly before he kept walking forward with his head lifted high and his tail flicking upward in greeting, "WindClan." His fur prickled, something was wrong. "I'm simply passing through to highstones." His selfish desire to speak to Cicadastar in StarClan alone felt as if it was about to bite him...

——✘ when does ripple become a tidal wave ———✘ when does a candle become a flame

• Ooc: This thread is open ONLY to replies from Sootstar's Loyalists!
• 
  
  
  Smokethroat
  —⊰⋅ Deputy of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

​

 

[Gooseberry]

Even as night descends, Gooseberry loyally stands tall guarding the Highstones. Part of him yells in defiance, saying that this is wrong, but he continues to shoot it down. What’s the point in any of the other clans going to visit StarClan, anyways? They’ve let them down just as much as WindClan. They most likely do not see it that way, but they will come to learn.

When he sees the RiverClan deputy approaching, he steels himself. It was only a matter of time before their first run in. He’s certain it’s so that he can take his rightful place as RiverClan’s leader, but even so, he has a job to do. “Hello, Smokethroat. Unfortunately, I’ll have to ask you to leave. This is our territory now.” He’s certain he’ll get immediate backlash, but at least the specked cat is by his lonesome.​

 

[HARRIERSTRIPE]

Harrierstripe stands by at the scene goofing off, nosing the ground and peering inbetween the rocks for a beetle. He’d been toying with the insect for sometime, but it may just have finally gotten away. So focused on playtime he does not realize Smokethroat has snuck up onto the patrol, he spins around and his eyes are set ablaze with hatred, a vile and bitter feeling that was not his own, but his father’s.

The black and white tom makes it clear he’s simply trying to get by to highstones, Harrierstripe’s hackles bristle and he takes a stand next to Gooseberry. ”As it always should’ve been.” Harrierstripe meows in agreement, staring RiverClan’s yet-to-be-named leader down.

The young warrior, eager to prove himself and finish his father’s rivalry once and for all flexes his claws into the earth.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Harrierkit . Harrierpaw . Harrierstripe
  » WindClan Warrior
  » He/him
  » A black and chocolate chimera with golden eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe who uses jeers and taunts to distract his opponents.
  » Excels in using terrain to his advantage.
  » Fights to overpower and see another day.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

—————————————————————⊰★⊱————————————————————
He glances coldly from the white warrior to the striped tom, Weaselclaw's son and just as aggravating as the brown tabby had been. Seemed the thorn in his side was genetic and would not be so easily removed. Smokethroat had felt mixed emotions to finding out the bastard was dead, torn between being quietly pleased to being outright furious he had the audacity to succumb to illness and not at his own claws as it should have been. It was an insult to a warrior to die in such a way, they thrived on battle, their rivalry deserved a more appropriate end. Despite those feelings, he bristles, he would not be giving his offspring any leeway just because there was a begrudging respect to his sire who died.
"Are you out of your blasted minds? Is Sootstar really going to try and stake a claim on a place sacred to all clans? That our medicine cats visit every moon? That gives us all access to StarClan?" His tail lashes, his paws shift in place as wild fury lances down his spine, "I am GOING to highstones, WindClan can't be so foolheaded as to think this is something they can simply do. I have a right to this place as much as any cat and I will NOT be denied."
Did they think every clan would just passively bow their heads in response, submit to this absolute madness? He thinks of the scorch marked stone at fourtrees and wonders if it was a warning to them now of her spiral into dangerous idiocy.

——✘ when does ripple become a tidal wave ———✘ when does a candle become a flame

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Smokethroat
  —⊰⋅ Deputy of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

​

 

[HUMMINGBIRDHEART]

RiverClanners crossing into WindClan territory sure is something that happens far too often, isn’t it? Hummingbirdheart’s tail swishes behind her as she strides over to stand beside her clanmates. Gooseberry and Harrierstripe are much more intimidating than herself, and so she’s glad that they’re the ones who decide to talk first. Of course, the RiverClanner doesn’t like the new ownership of the land, and even tries to dispute it with them. He spouts off about the stupid moonstone and StarClan, of course, and the cinnamon tabby cannot believe that he could be so hypocritical as to question whether Sootstar is the one out of her mind. "Who died and made you leader? Sure are bossy like one." Who is this tom, anyway? Last she knew, he was just a deputy, but he’s trying to boss them around like he’s some kind of Sootstar.

The tom keeps talking, though, and the little tabby lets out a sharp laugh, tipping her head back as though it’s the funniest thing she’s heard all month. "Funny how you will NOT be denied, 'cause that’s what we're doing!" Her voice is cheery, but the tunneler fixes the stranger—the enemy—with a hard, flat stare. He will not cross into WindClan territory if he knows what’s good for him, and Hummingbirdheart is willing to dissuade him with claws if she must. Or, well, Gooseberry and Harrierstripe can use their claws, while she runs for help.​

[ my materials in pyre ]​

​

 

[HARBINGERMOON]

☾ Dutifully he held his place beside Gooseberry and Hummingbirdheart. Keeping his orange gaze on the prize ahead in case any interested parties attempted to make way. It wasn't long before the inky coat of Smokethroat arrived and a thrill ran up the Tunneler's spine. He loved when there was push back just enough so he could insert his own dramatics. Standing tall and eager he half-growled half-laughed a smarmy remark to the others demands. "You wanna bet on that?" Intentionally, he ignored the rest of the drabble.

Lacking the desire to answer much less show a smidgeon of care. Harbingermoon's claws extended languidly one by one in a wave-like motion. Tapping against the rock below as his dark frame filled the small path to the highstone. The Windclanner felt little to no fear much less remorse for blocking the others birthright. If anything it only excited him more as he taunted Smokethroat. "Go ahead. Try and get past us with the one life you've got. This is now Windclan territory and we will defend it." His fangs bared venomously as excitement boiled in his pelt beside Hummingbirdheart.

The battle had barely sufficed seeing as he wasted most of it rescuing pitiful paws' from danger. Getting the opportunity to face off with a potential life-reciever was too good for him to miss. I want your life and all the others that come with it. A grin cruel and coy manifested as he stepped closer to the other cat. Nose a mere rabbits hop from the Riverclan deputy's. ☽​

 

[RUMBLERAIN]

𝐵𝐸𝑇𝑊𝐸𝐸𝑁 𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼𝑆 𝐿𝑂𝑆𝑇 𝐹𝑂𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅 ✧ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍

• 
  
  — rumblepaw | tags
  — they/them ; moor-runner apprentice of windclan. mentored by brindlecloud.
  — lanky black-and-white point with blue eyes. butterfly accessory.
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — art by mercibun
  — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
  
  

​

Rumblepaw lingers a few paces back from the other warriors, invited along by the grace of their elders but feeling distinctly out of place among a pawful of cats not their own mentor. This has been happening more often recently, their more confident Clanmates taking pity on the skill-lacking apprentice; but now it has led them here, to Highstones, the majesty of which looms behind them and steals their breath at too long of a look.

Their nose wrinkles with distaste, as if they've caught the scent of something unpleasant - which they have, really, RiverClan's fish-reek a scourge upon their senses. A light tremble runs across their shoulders as their Clanmates engage Smokethroat verbally, though they don't truly feel the fear that lingers in its wake; only an odd sense of adrenaline, battle-breath catching at the borders of their thought.

"I can go and get Sootstar... Though I'd prefer not to bother her with something like this." Rumblepaw meows placidly from close by Harrierstripe, wide-eyed stare fixed upon RiverClan's deputy. Any smugness their comment might have radiated is lost in the soft shake of their meow.

​

 

[✧ Honeybadger.]

♢​♢ THIS IS HOW LEGENDS ARE MADE ♢♢​

---

honeybadger & 11 moons & trans. male & he/him & windclan moor runner ​

---

"Cicadastar did I think - didn't he drag his body back while we we're in shadowclan?" honeybadger answers hummingbirdheart automatically, a snort of sarcastic laughter quick to follow his spiteful quip. The stocky tom stands just as bold and brash as the others, all squared up and ready to face off if the situation calls for it. "You really think we're scared of you? We're not apprentices fresh from the nursery for you to grab and drag around as you please - this is windclan territory now," he's heard cottonpaw tell the story to the clan - the way the battle scarred tom had attacked her on windclan territory, and then lied about it. Seems to be something they do often, from what he's heard.

— like iron from the fire gettin' stronger ☀︎

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: IC opinions, he is not nice im sorry
  tw/cw: —
  
• [bimg]url here[/bimg]
  — a strange looking feline with nearly every shade of red upon his coat, and a badger-like mask of white upon his face. honeybadger is usually quite friendly and outgoing, an upbeat sort of personality; but when faced with those outside of windclan his demeanor is brutal and scathing.
  
  — physically medium && mentally medium
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#fed053]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[hollowcreek]

( ✧ ) His allies gather at the new border they had extended their lands to. Righteously claiming the plains that should have been theirs from the start. The rabbits did not stop hopping once they reached over the Thunderpath. They continued on, and no Clan had tried to stake their claim so... why not?

A grin slowly grew across his maw as he matched the stance of Smokethroat's, tail lashing behind him as he approached closer.

"Well? Come on then, Smokethroat. Go to Highstones." He lifted his chin to look at the spotted tom scornfully, broad body now beside Harbringermoons as they created a wall between Smokethroat and the moonstone.
​

( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )

 

[SOOTSPOT]

"He is trespassing, you know what we do to trespassers" he pointed out to the other WindClanners, head tilted upwards as he moved closer. Hunger flittered into his eyes, teeth bared in a smile and worries sated by the opportunity presented to his homeland... and to his family. Sootspot's tail lashed excitedly and the only thing that seemed to stop the pitch of his voice from wavering with euphoria was the presence of his clanmates. A slow mind was a rare treat, ripe for the plucking - this time, he didn't even need to be patient for it. "Bring my mother to the one who hurt her kit and you'll lose your ears for letting him live. No, bring her his body instead." It was not just about Cottonpaw, it was about cutting off the head of a snake who had long been a thorn in WindClan's side. Sootspot crouched and began to circle around the Deputy, waiting for his clanmates to begin an assault first before making good on his own words. Now was their chance to prove that they had Sootstar's best interests at heart and not just their own.

​

 

[SNAKEHISS]

The others jeer and taunt the leader-to-be, daring Smokethroat to try and challenge them for his right to speak to StarClan. Turn around and flee, you harebrain. Snakehiss pleads silently, a grim expression falling upon his sharp features as he gauges what Smokethroat will do next. RiverClan were a bunch of sopping-wet rats, walking thorns in their sides for many seasons, but to kill their deputy... Surely StarClan would not be pleased with WindClan.

"No, bring her his body instead." Sootstar's son decides, and at the moment, Snakehiss knows that blood is mere moments from being spilled. There is no possibility of Smokethroat emerging from this altercation alive should he choose to engage.

His blood runs cold like a frozen river, flashbacks to the battle against the rogues assaulting his mind. The breath, the radiating warmth, the heartbeat of the rogue who he fought — his enemy. They had bled crimson just as he did; he was an individual, a cat with family and a story. So was the white-spotted tom that stood before them all. The thought of seeing, feeling the life escape the RiverClanner's body nearly makes Snakehiss feel sick.

StarClan, forgive me for what I am about to do.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙬𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙮

• 

• 

  ✰ SNAKEHISS
  —— he/him; moor runner of windclan
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[PRAIRIECRY]

prairiecry joins his fellow windclanners—true windclanners, mind you, not the mewling children that cried over their leader's righteous decisions—in a typical show of support. smokethroat, the burly white-freckled creature riverclan calls a deputy, is trying to slink into their territory like the bejeweled eel his dead leader once had been. it's a poor disguise for his intentions, and prairiecry's grinning face, dipped in off white, materializes from the gloaming along with the rest of his inky pelt. gooseberry's pearlescent pelt is stark against the descending veil of nightfall, a glowing beacon to which prarieicry draws closer, a signal of his fellow warriors.

he and sootstar's son (oh, how his heart leaps like a stag at the thought of her) offer their reasonable protest, but the flame-eyed deputy's refusal is as staunch and swift as the windclanners' rebuttal. hummingbirdheart joins in with that false cheer prairiecry will always find infinitely irritating, but harbingermoon's presence is considerably more intimidating. rumblepaw is more placid, understandable given their youthful inexperience, and honeybadger is stingingly sarcastic in a satisfying contrast.

of course, the variable temperaments of his compatriots, regardless of how charming they might be, will never compare to the timeless allure that cornflower sootstar presents. she is why he's doing this, after all, and when prairiecry envisions those jewel-green eyes on the horizon, he doesn't hesitate in stepping forward. it's an additional balm to the soul that he stands alongside the likes of hollowcreek, sootspot, and snakehiss—all of them the kind of honorable soldiers sootstar needs, though they'll never quite understand her mystique as he does.

"you and what army, smokethroat? cicadastar is gone, and apparently—" he pauses, scans the empty plain around smokethroat. foolish of him not to bring any soldiers, but the black-and-white tom couldn't hope to command the kind of thrall sootstar holds her warriors in. all the better for them, of course. "—you didn't think to bring any warriors. if you're coming to highstones, you only have one life to lose." his grin is garishly gratuitous, and though prairiecry has never harbored bloodlust, the thought of sootstar's praise brings it artifically forward.

"sootspot is correct. you must have inherited your mother's intellect." prariecry's unsettling familiarity notwithstanding, his words are genuine. what better gift to sootstar than smokethroat's limp and cooling body? "we'll bring sootstar his corpse."

a blessed heart is safe 🌾 ( you cannot take the chance )

• 

• 

  prairiecry ; warrior of windclan
  x. he/him ; 48 moons ; tags
  x. gaunt piebald black-and-brown tom with pale blue eyes and extra toes ; has a distinctive star-shaped scar on the bridge of his nose, and two throat scars
  x. played by dejavu

​

 

[HARBINGERMOON]

☾ The Windclanner maintained his position squarely in front of the frustrated Riverclanner, reveling in the approaching confrontation. His jowls drooped with predatory satisfaction, and the dilation of his pupils mirrored the escalating tension. The growing crowd around them only fueled his bloodlust, intensifying the impending clash. Eagerly, they hummed a remark to their comrades. "I say we go ahead and start." Glancing around at each cat while they spat curses.

As more cats joined their ranks, surrounding the deputy in a near-perfect circle, the atmosphere crackled with jeers, taunts, and snickers. The plush-furred feline relished in the chaotic energy, blocking any potential escape routes for the ebony cat. Hollowcreek's familiar voice was enough to finally click everything in place. His wild smile broadened, and the rhythmic clacking of their claws halted. In this moment, he felt powerful and supported, and no longer did the veil of hesitation hold his mind. Lashing his own tail, the Tunneler signaled with it his intentions.

Harbingermoon never fully planned to let the other tom get another say in anyhow. Low and steady he rumbled out a bemused reply. Clicking his tongue with faux disappointment. "Should've run while you had the chance." His words crackled with an incoming growl. Affirming both Sootspot and Prairiecry's own ideas. "Your demise will be an excellent gift indeed." Snarling audibly on the last syllable, he lifted his left paw high. His heavy orange eyes were wide and aflame with glee.

Putting power behind it he aimed to jet forward and close the distance between them. His hit intended to be precise – scoring all of his thick claws across the other tom's face. With the intent of temporarily blinding or stunning Smokethroat. Harbingermoon utilized the move to create an opening for his Clanmates so they would also join in.

He could hardly hide his buzzing emotions of the impending confrontation, coupled with the rising tensity, which drove the warrior into action."We're going to have so much fun with you!" A dark chortle resonated joyously from the depths of the inky tomcats throat. His half-cast gaze sparked fervently for the next round of blows. ☽​

 

[Gooseberry]

As Gooseberry predicted, Smokethroat does not take the news well. It was to be expected, but none of his clanmates would take this lying down. It doesn’t take too long for tensions to boil, threats to the black cat’s life being hurled his way. He does not harbor as much ill will towards the deputy like some of the cats here do, but he has a job, and he will carry it out. Personal feelings can always be buried, if he comes to regret.

When the first attacks are launched, he patiently waits his turn to strike. He lets his hairs raise, puffing up to look more intimidating. That’s what he’s best at, after all. He keeps his narrowed eyes trained on Smokethroat, watching his reaction and then going in for a blow himself. Gooseberry aims for a quick blow instead of a strong one like most would expect from him, attacking his back legs to take him off balance.

“You really should have brought more numbers instead of just yourself,” Gooseberry chastises, keeping his voice low to try and intimidate.​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

—————————————————————⊰★⊱————————————————————
He felt mixed at the moment, glad he came alone so no one else was at risk and now suddenly very acutely aware of just how many of these WindClanners there were. The threats began to pour in, his body as a trophy whispered out among bold declarations and insults and Smokethroat grits his teeth in anger. Holds it inside where it boils his blood and floods him with heat.
As much as his pride despised it his only option was leaving, but no sooner did the acceptance of it strike him did they begin to circle like crows over carrion and he narrowed his eye defensively. They wouldn't dare...
They would-this was an ambush all along and he should've known WindClan would pull a stunt like this. The only cat who needed access to the Moonstone before the monthly medicine cat gatherings was him, had this been planned all along?
He blinks and there are claws in his face, he hisses and reels back slinging out his own ebony set of blades in retaliation at the black and white tom that made the first move and as he rocked back he feels his backlegs catch on something - another cat diving for him; Smokethroat finds himself swarmed, twists to sink his teeth into any cat whose appendage got too close to his mouth, claws lashing out to any flesh he could find purchase in but he's outnumbered severely - untrained guns, but the more guns the more bullets that could fire. No amount of skill in combat was going to get him out of this...
He's not a fool, he knows its over if he hits the ground and fights to maintain his footing, to remain upright, but its to no avail and eventually he crashes down with a snarl like thunder cracking through the sky above; the telltale signs of rainclouds forming...

——✘ when does ripple become a tidal wave ———✘ when does a candle become a flame

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Smokethroat
  —⊰⋅ Deputy of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.
  

​

 

[hollowcreek]

( ✧ ) Like a strong, bold gust his Clanmates charge ahead of him. Quick as whips for their Clans namesake, a dastardly grin has made its mark on Hollowcreek's lips. Harbringermoon, muscles teeming with power within the first strike against the spotted tom, earns the brightest of his praise.

"What grand ambition! Take the bastards life and leave RiverClan to wither without its powerhouses." The River King was gone, how brutal to lose not just his mate, but their strongest capable Deputy, too? Any attempt at succeeding the mottled mongrel would meet the same fate now, torn to shreds on sight.

Gooseberry joined the tunneler but he does not rush to include himself. Instead Hollowcreek moved to stand atop a jutting stone, feeling the cold breeze against his back. Eyes swept across the crowd to rally them, and a laugh bellowed from his chest as he addressed his allies.

"Let's not waste bringing him to Sootstar, it'll only lead the river rats to our camp. We tear him to ribbons and leave his rotted crow-fed corpse as a message. A warning to anyone who dares seek the stars!" The tabby snarled, claws gripping around the crumbling edges of the stone.
​

( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )

 

[HARRIERSTRIPE]

Harrierstripe is pleased to see his clan on the same page with him. Smokethroat was right here, why let him walk away? What a perfect oppertunity this was to spill blood in the name of WindClan, the name of their leader, and in the name of Weaselclaw.

Harrierstripe cackles and rushes forward, eager to get his fill on slashing his claws against the RiverClan tom’s pelt. Unleashing a flurry of slashes, raking his claws up, down and across the black and white splotched tom’s pelt, blood trickling from the wounds both his clan and Harrierstripe inflicted. What a thrilling feeling this was, to take down his father’s long time enemy! Addervenom should be here at his side, he hopes his brother forgives him for crossing the first cat off their father’s list without him.

A thunderous snarl leaves the lips of Smokethroat, his paws give way and he falls to the ground. Harrierstripe is eager, selfish for the kill. Rising onto his hind legs, he slams his forepaws into the tom cats exposed side. Thorn sharp claws dig deep before he rakes down, tearing flesh and leaving behind a brutal wound. Blood bubbles and begins to trickle down the fallen tom’s belly, and with the rest of the minor-to-major wounds the loyalist have given him, Smokethroat lays in poor shape.

Harrierstripe is certain he can see the light flickering from his single eye, like the rogue Addervenom and the earthy hued tom had killed together. Only Smokethroat’s fades slower, and the idea Hollowcreek proposes fills him with satisfaction. ”Yes, we should let him suffer! Leave him here and let him be turned to buzzard-food.” He grins triumphantly as a sick satisfaction washes over him.

’Weaselclaw, are you watching? I did it! I’ve killed him!’ He’d have the striped tom’s pride now… Soon enough, he’d kill Chilledstar and Blazestar too. With Addervenom, the brothers would be unstoppable. Soon the forest would tremble at the murmuring of their names, just as Weaselclaw had foretold at their birth.

With the agreement of the others, he takes in the sight of the dying RiverClan deputy one last time, burning it into memory. He then turns around and bolts away with the rest of the loyalists, pleased with their work and eager to show off their accomplishment to Sootstar.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• >> you may pre-write attacks to take place before Harrier’s final blow, but none that take place after! As plotted, the loyalists will now victoriously go home
• 
  » Harrierkit . Harrierpaw . Harrierstripe
  » WindClan Warrior
  » He/him
  » A black and chocolate chimera with golden eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe who uses jeers and taunts to distract his opponents.
  » Excels in using terrain to his advantage.
  » Fights to overpower and see another day.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​