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"You have a funny way of making things right," he meowed, his voice surprisingly even even as he watched his father's claw dig into his mother's flesh. He winced as he watched him mar her chest. A fury was starting to enter his gaze, masking the fear slightly. "I gave you what you wanted, now let her go . She doesn't matter anymore." This, of course, was a lie. Of course his mother mattered, if not to Phantomfox, to him. "If she doesn't want to be part of our family, fine. We don't need her. You and me, okay? It's how it always should have been."
Internally, Foxpaw was gagging at his own words. He was lying through his teeth; he needed his mother. He didn't want to stand next to his father for even a moment without her. But, he desperately hoped that it would force Phantomfox to ease up. If he could prove that he didn't want to be here, maybe he'd let her live. Foxpaw knew what this meant, knew that his mother's absence would claw at him for the rest of his life as he stood next to his father, a prisoner of a wild man. But, he was willing to make the sacrifice.
"I want to go home. Can't we just go home? This place, this stupid place," he meowed, dramatically kicking the ground. He didn't know he was an actor, but in that moment, he felt that the lives of both Rosethorn and Sunpaw were hanging in the balance. If he could act well enough, if he could prove to his father that this wasn't what he wanted, maybe they would be spared. He glanced back to Sunpaw, offering an apologetic look. He assumed his mother would understand his faux callousness, but Sunpaw wouldn't. I'm sorry. the look in his eyes read, before he turned back to Phantomfox. "This place and these stupid cats make me want to die. I want to go back with you. Rosethorn," he tried to make his voice reflect nothing but disgust at his mother's name, something he had never used before, "was stupid to think I wanted this life. I don't. I don't want anything to do with it. I want to be back home." His monologuing was running out of steam. "Please, Dad , let's just go home."
With that, the thin tom took another step forward, forcing his shoulders to go back. He offered his chest to his father, his gaze a mix between pleading and determined. His jaw clenched slightly, anticipating the pain, but if this was what it took to end this... woof
Cold fear welled in Doefreckle's chest, but also a tiny flicker of hope - resigned and dirty and demeaning, but hope none the less. "Whatever you want," he replied, and he had already accepted, as sick and belittled as it made him feel, that he meant whatever. He ushered Sunpetal back as he spoke, painfully aware that this fragile, momentary truce could still break, his head bowed submissively to Pinesimmer. "I'll come back. Just let me get her to the border."
Not waiting to see whether the medicine cat would agree or not, Doe turned, murmuring a gentle comfort to Sunpetal, and ushered her quickly ahead. A little way from camp, out on the terrifyingly open expanse of meadows washed a bright, glowing silver by the moon, every small shrub and stunted tree a shadow around them, Doefreckle broke into as good a run as he could manage - which, without any feeling in his broken paw, was almost as quick as any able-bodied cat. Honeystormwoof
Post by Honeystorm on Sept 29, 2021 0:11:34 GMT -5
"I wouldn't do that if I were you~" Pinesimmer's voice had an almost sickening singsong quality to it, the words hanging around them thick and dark, making every step feel as if the pair were swimming in gasoline. Just waiting for the match to be lit.
"Run and he dies."
He didn't have to scream for the words to be effective, they carried across the breeze and coiled around the SummerClan cats' hearts like a snake. The Medicine Cat didn't even have to specify, Doe and Sunpetal could fill in the blanks themselves. "Come back with me, and I swear on my life Aspenstar won't lay a paw on him. How much are you willing to give up for your freedom? How many lives are you willing to sacrifice?" Now, Pinesimmer wasn't the most handsome cat to ever exist. Far from it. He had a long scar across one cheek where Phantomfox had bit out a chunk of his cheek, bore the marks of the dog that had caused Aspenstar's loss of eyesight, and of that SunClan cat who'd tried to capture him. In the watery moonlight he looked less cat-like and more like some shadowy apparition that had tried to twist itself into feline-form. His smile and eyes were too bright for the shadowy nature of his fur in this lighting, and his bitter tasting presence. Everything was all wrong, and now the two wannabe-escapees were face with a deadly decision. wooffox
dm me if you want to listen to me ramble about the interstellar soundtrack
2,314 posts
Post by achromatic on Sept 29, 2021 6:53:39 GMT -5
Moonblight was still out in the fields, patrolling the borders, when something seemed to catch his attention. His ear flicked once, as he turned to Sagebristle. "Did you hear that?" he asked in a hushed tone, eyes wide, "I think I heard something. Should we go check it out?" His tail was lashing, but more out of excitement than anything else. He had never been on a mission like this, and all of this was incredibly exciting. "What do you think that is?" he was already heading towards the direction of the noise, a scent of SummerClan cat making it easier for him to track where it originated from. sunlight
Nightclan Sagebristle grinned in response to Moonblight's question. "Duh, we should go check it out," she said, bounding off towards the sound. She could hear Pinesimmer yelling something in the distance, but she didn't care. It wasn't long before they intercepted the two fleeing cats, and she motioned to Moonblight with her tail that they should capture them. They'd been told to keep the perimeter secure, and having others come and go wasn't part of that security.
The small russet tabby, faster than her partner, cut them off from the front, looping an easy paw forward to trip them both as Moonblight circled around back of them. "Sorry," she said, rather unapologetically, as she stood over the two collapsed Summerclan cats. "But no one's leaving until further notice. Plus I think that jackass is calling for you. Better head back before someone gets hurt, right?" fox
Summerclan
Orchid/Cinder
Orchiddrop stiffened as one of the Nightclan cats appeared with Cinderpaw beside them, blood splattered across their features. "They killed Mudthistle," Cinderpaw whispered hoarsely, weeping and sniffling as the three of them- Orchiddrop, Eveningpaw, and Cinderpaw- were shoved unceremoniously into the elder's den. @ian
Rosethorn
Rosethorn deflated as Foxpaw stepped out of the bushes, but she held her tongue. Part of her was bursting with pride in her son, in his bravery and his desire to protect her and Sunpaw. The other part of her was terrified for his safety and her own. Phantomfox's grip on her, his incessant pushing down to keep her on the ground, wasn't gentle. He was going on and on about family like he hadn't been the one to fracture that family right down the middle- but then again, nothing about Phantomfox seemed sane at the moment.
Then suddenly, quite suddenly, he was carving the marks across her chest, and she gave another hoarse cry, squirming against the heat that seared across her heart and left crimson blood spilling onto the ground once more. The one thought that circulated in her mind was how dare he?, but for once in her life she bit her words back, letting her son play his part in all of this. She couldn't promise that if he was successful, if he did manage to pull off this lie and leave with Phantomfox, that she wouldn't do the same thing as his father and seek him out until the day she died. Right now, all she could do was try to control her breathing, a little light-headed from the wounds to her head and chest and from the blood loss. woof
Edited Sept 29, 2021 14:05:54 GMT -5 By sunlight | Reason: posted too early oops
Post by Whitemuzzle on Sept 29, 2021 14:28:18 GMT -5
SummerClan Gentlebreeze and her son Graythorn huddled together inside the nursery. Neither one could even imagine this was happening but it was. It galled the gray tabby she cat to no end that she couldn't fight very well anymore. Age had taken it's toll on her body. A younger Gentlebreeze wouldn't had surrendered so easily to Floodfate without a fight. She would have fought tooth and claw to help defend her clan.
Ever since his accident, Graythorn had been morose and sullen, even more so than his normal self. So the advent of NightClan's take-over hadn't bothered him unduly. He merely walked over to the nursery with Gentlebreeze without any argument as if it were the most ordinary thing to do.
(Sorry, I haven't been able to get on the past few days.)
(i’m temporarily taking over weevilspike for gidget so forgive me while i *frantically flicking through character notes for a test i haven’t studied for, screaming*)
Through the chaos, Weevilspike had been frantically looking for his sister Sunpetal, growing more and more distressed the longer he couldn’t find a trace of her. Tears welled in his eyes, more from severe stress and the bewildering confusion than any actual grief. He stopped still in the middle of camp, just standing there with his chest heaving but not enough air going into his lungs; he looked like a fish on land, his mouth gaping, opening, closing, his eyes wide and glazed. Everything around him was a blur - cats screaming, the smell of NightClan blocking out the sweetness of SummerClan, blood spattering over his unkempt fur. He’d never had a panic attack before, never felt so strongly about anything before - he’d always been the mellow one, happy to lazily lope along behind his sister and let her direct the course of his day and wake up from a nap to find flowers braided into the fur around his ears. But now his father was lying dying in Vulturemalice’s den, and his sister was lost in the whirlwind, and everywhere around him the cats he had known since the day he was born were dying on their knees.
Before this, when NightClan had first marched into camp, Weevilspike had run first to the nursery when he heard his youngest half-siblings crying out for their mother. He’d ducked inside and curled around them and promised them, with all the carefree cheer he could muster and a rusty purr rumbling in his throat, that Poppymask would be back soon. With a lazy, sloppy lick to each of their heads, he’d then ducked back out of the den - and, his smile falling the second he was back out in the moonlight and the fear returning to his face, sprinted to the medicine den. His father was still there, lying on the ground with his chest rising and falling slowly, but Sunpetal’s scent was growing stale. Gasping reassurances to himself, he’d backed out of there, too - and now stood rooted to the centre of camp.
That was when he heard his mother’s familiar voice accusing Aspenstar. Instantly falling out of his trance, his eyes widened in fear and he rushed over to Poppymask, scrabbling to a stop close beside her just in time to hear the NightClan leader’s offer of clemency.
“We’ll do it,” Weevilspike agreed immediately, his voice breathless. He looked at his mother desperately, begging her to fall in line with him and comply, for her own safety and the safety of her newest kits. His eyes were as wide as a full moon. “Won’t we, mom?” He looked back at Aspenstar. “We don’t want any trouble. Just please don’t hurt my father.” He wanted to say that he didn’t know where his sister was and that she would surrender too, but if she had somehow found a way to escape, he wanted to give her the best chance he could. He knew that SummerClan would think he was a coward for submitting so easily, but he couldn’t bear to see any more of the Clanmates he loved die when an offer was being held out to him right there. Maybe that was cowardice; maybe he should have fought, tried to go for Aspenstar’s throat; but he didn’t have an unkind bone in his body - he couldn’t kill, not even for retribution, not when mercy for his Clan was right there. And if he had never stepped up to his role and duty as prince of this royal family before, he was doing it now - and perhaps making the weak, easy, wrong decision while doing so. His sister had always been eager to throw her weight around as a princess; he never had, even as Ratstar’s eldest son. Well, now he was. And right now, with his father lying on the floor of the medicine den, his voice outweighed his mother’s. For the first time ever, if only because it meant he could keep the cat he loved more than anyone in the world safe, and even if it made his legs shake where he stood, he was thankful for it. As cats screamed and fought around them, the world seemed to shrink to only him, his mother, and the NightClan leader. Jadie @ian
At Foxpaw's declaration that his mother didn't matter, Phantomfox's grin grew impossibly wide. "I always knew you'd see," he murmured, his voice hushed and reverential, "I always knew you were just like me, son. You can go home, son, I promise, and when this is all over, I'll go home too. It can be you and me and Aspenstar and all of your new siblings," he promised, evidently convicted in this belief. He truly believed that he could erase Foxpaw's connections to SummerClan, to his blood family, and replicate that with the family he and Aspenstar built together. Though there was sadness his son would pick up on at the mention of going home, the implication that Phantomfox would not be returning with Foxpaw but ushering him back to NightClan on his own clear.
"You'll get to see all your friends again," he said, despite knowing his son had just one friend interested at all in his return, as his claws pierced the delicate skin of Foxpaw's chest, some part of him revelling in the sensation of giving him his first set of scars. The hair follicles split by the tears, as fur grew back around the three perfect lines, it would be obvious to anyone who saw the terrorist's son that he belonged not to himself or to SummerClan but to Phantomfox, who brandished the same scars like a family crest. The fur on his paw now anointed with the blood of the father, the mother, and the son, he leaned back to admire his work, eyes awash by a fondness that could either be for his son or his handiwork, but then he was all business again, sweeping around to gesture at Rosethorn. "You can lead us back to camp, can't you son? Your mother will follow, then your friend here, and I'll take up the back. We'll form a line so I can make sure no one acts out, but don't worry, son; I won't let them get away. You just keep your eyes forward, okay?"
sunlightachromatic He leaned down, nosing Rosethorn's cheek with all the gentleness he'd once had, but when he grabbed her scruff a second time, he wrenched her to her paws and shoved her mercilessly back in the direction she'd originally led her trio of escapees, expression void of anything when they looked at one another. He glanced back at Sunpaw, giving her an opportunity to fall in line behind the other two before he used forced, the one kindness he was willing to extend to her.
SummerClan
foxachromaticsunlightHoneystorm Doefreckle hot on her heels, his muzzle giving her nudges and nips to keep her going forward and to turn when necessary, Sunpetal didn't fully register how far they'd gone or even where they were by time a voice she found completely unrecognizable but loathsome all the same impeded their progress. The volley of pleas begging to break through the sadistic pleasure of seeing them at someone else's mercy fell on mostly deaf ears, though she could see the desperation in the set of Doefreckle's shoulders, how his haunches trembled despite his forelegs being rooted purposefully to the spot, how he glanced back to ensure she was there, she was alive, she was sniveling and looking pathetic enough that it might win them some compassion. However, she was somehow keenly aware, even as she could barely understand the garble that was their voices, that this Pinesimmer, Doe'd said, relieved and hopeful, had no interest in bartering their freedom.
One day many moons ago, which felt so impossibly distant now than it would have a few days ago, she and her siblings had played a game of clans versus some of their other denmates, where they'd split into opposing forces. Sunkit's team, of course, was comprised of her littermates, the only kits in the nursery she paid any mind to, but the game had swiftly proved not to be in her favor when one of the other kits, bulkier and stronger than Ratstar's untested litter, pinned one of her brothers down and used him as blackmail to get them to concede their war. She'd stomped around petulantly and swung demands that found no purchase on the confidence of someone who knew they had the upper hand, she'd even tried her signature alligator tears to no effect, but by time the evening began to set in and most of the others involved had bored of the game and ventured off to play mossball, it inevitably boiled down to a bitter surrender. It was a hard lesson to learn then, one she'd ignored and refused to acknowledge for moons, but the Sunpetal she'd grown into, the one now numbly at the mercy of a game of clans with far higher stakes than simple bragging rights, understood how disadvantageous it was to have none of the cards at play. She felt Doefreckle nudge her, the pressure of his nose into her shoulder jarring her to take several steps back, but no sooner had she turned to run when she felt a paw hook her leg and sweep it beneath her at the same time as she heard the words that settled stones in her stomach.
Run and he dies.
Sunpetal stared up at where Silverpelt sparkled between the ink-black leaves, thinking to herself how pretty this night would be if circumstances were different. If her father wasn't dying. If her clan wasn't falling. She might have enjoyed tonight; maybe come out into the meadows to find some night-blooming jasmine or sat atop the hill overlooking camp, making crowns for her youngest litter that she'd have deposited at the nursery entrance before any of them ever woke up. She felt tears sting at the corners of her eyes again, cursing herself for ever having taken those precious moments of freedom for granted, but she swallowed them, steeling herself now before it was too late.
That jackass is calling for you. Sunpetal climbed back to her paws, making sure to position herself between the guards and Doefreckle with a look on her face that read Thank you. It's my turn to protect you now, and turned to regard Sagebristle, making note of the other feline who separated himself from the shadows behind her. Neither of the duo looked much younger than she was, a moon or two at most, but they were clearly more trained in combat than she was and she was well aware that she didn't stand a chance against either, let alone both, if it came down to a fight. Better head back before someone gets hurt, right? She exhaled a sardonic noise from her nose. "Don't you understand," she muttered, struggling to find her voice, "cats are already hurt? What do you think you're doing here? Why do you think Aspenstar brought her personal guard and an army all the way out to SummerClan?" She stared, desperately, into Sagebristle's eyes, then into Moonblight's, seeking some semblance of understanding or humanity, wondering if there was even any to be found in a NightClan cat or if they all were truly extensions of Aspenstar's will. "Your jackass," she jerked her head towards Pinesimmer, "do you know who he's talking about killing? My father. He wants to take another life from Ratstar, who can't even defend himself because he's still unconscious from the injuries he already has. Please. Please, we won't run. We'll do whatever you tell us to do. Y-you can kill me right here, right now, just please, please don't let him hurt my Papi anymore."
“Isn’t there?” she meowed with a hint of bemusement in her voice, turning back to the medicine cat. He was growing tiresome quickly, she noted with a blink. “Do you really want me to lay it out for you?” She rolled her shoulders, beginning a slow pace around him. She was gearing up for a monologue, it appeared, some grand indictment of the world around her, a revelation of the master’s plan, when her brother tripped her.
She faltered to the ground slightly. There was no embarrassment at her folly, though. A god did not feel embarrassed in the presence of those who quaked in fear at her presence. Instead, she felt her temper rise and her patience run out. She let out a snarl of irritation. Just when she was having her moment of fun, he had to stop her. She would have to make sure he paid for that. Perhaps she could make him match her? Wouldn’t that be charming, both Aspenstar and Pinesimmer half-blind. She didn’t have time to consider what she would do to him for long, though. No, she was having fun.
She picked herself up with a half-smile, although her gaze burned with an acute rage. With Pinesimmer’s interference, her faint tolerance had morphed into a craving for blood. “As I was saying, must I lay it out for you? I suppose I could, if you wanted.” She began her slow pursuit around him, a huntress in pursuit of a cornered animal. “Chaos, darling, is secondary.” She let out a chuckle, shaking her head. Did he really think that was her motive? “Like I said before, I certainly don’t mind the chaos. In fact, I find it quite delightful.” With each slow, perfectly timed lap around him, she inched ever so slightly closer and closer. “But, we are not here primarily to torment you all. I didn’t want for this to have to be like this. I didn’t want to have to kill the cat over there. He jumped the gun. I took care of a problem.” She let out a dreamy sigh, as if she was absolutely in love with her own storytelling. Perhaps this wasn’t surprising. Aspenstar’s biggest fan was, in fact, Aspenstar, after all.
“You see, I’m not really sure where to start the story of how we got here. Maybe it started with my good friend Soot, over there,” she pointed to Raystrike absently with her tail. “She was my prisoner, and our dear friend Crow made a deal with the devil to let her out of my jail.” She let out a laugh, speaking of herself in such simple terms. Was she truly a devil? “I told him he’d owe me a favor one day, and he accepted it.” She shook her head in disappointment. “I don’t really know that I planned this,” she meowed, waving her tail, “that moment. No, for all I knew, Crow was completely inconsequential. But, I don’t forget the deals I make, even with those who seem to have no grander role in this game of life we play.”
“Perhaps I should start more practically, closer to home. Between you and I, and you and I alone,” she meowed, now about an arm’s length from the tom, “NightClan has been having some issues lately. We’ve… experienced some losses, and we’re down in our luck.” She offered nothing more than an ambivalent shrug. “In particular, we are running low on herbs. Our stocks are low, and I don’t really want to be unprepared for whatever this life thing throws at us, you know? I wouldn’t want NightClan to end up like…. Well, this,” she meowed, glancing away from him for the first time towards SummerClan with disgust. “No offense, but this is truly pathetic. See, while we are here, we will help you become not so pathetic. We have the brains, you have the resources, we’re a match made in the stars.” A humorless laugh parted from her lips. “So, then, came Sunfreckle. The darling girl, poor thing, let it slip that your gardens were beautiful and you had no leader. From that, I deduced that you had a healthy herb stock, and Crow owed me a favor, so it was perfect timing, really. The rest, I suppose, is inconsequential. There, are you happy? We were here to run your herb supply, and then your cats got feisty, and now there’s dead bodies. It is what it is.” She let out a wry laugh, shaking her head.
“I could have explained this all without the bloodshed, you know. Had your cats not been heroic, this could have all gone according to plan A.” She sighed. She was now close enough to breathe on him, their pelts rubbing together. She paused to murmur in his ear.
“Oh, and, darling? StarClan? They can’t help you now,” she whispered, before reaching over and slicing a gash through his chest. It was no accident that the placement was there – she didn’t want to kill Vulturemalice, just make a point. baewolf
Her attention was then drawn to the tom that suddenly spoke for SummerClan. She no longer had use for the tom; she had made her point, had her moment of infamy, and now it was time to move on to the more practical tasks of hostile invasion. “Ah, yes. I accept your white flag,” she meowed to him. “If and only if your surrender is unequivocable,” the leader meowed, nodding to herself, “there will be no more blood spilled tonight.” Her words were loud; every NightClan cat would hear her order (and most would follow it, except her brother, probably). “Of course, I can only guarantee that if you surrender completely. Any act of defiance will revoke the terms of order. You will do exactly as I say, how I say it, and you don’t get hurt. Any little slip up, though?” She clicked her tongue. “I just won’t have those. Punishment will be swift and harsh. Are we understood?” fox
-
Foxpaw felt the roaring burn across his chest, and a part of him died. He had promised himself that his father would not change him, that he would be brave, and kind, and strong, but when his claws tore across his flesh, flesh that had never once been marred by scars – they’d all been too gentle with him to let him get too hurt -, a bit of his resolve died. He let out a soft oh, but then made no reference to the fact he had just been marked, forever scarred, by one of the only cats that had ever supposedly loved him.
The tom nodded as his father spoke, feigning interest and excitement, although it wasn’t quite as genuine as his first performance had been. He had accepted his role. “Yes, father,” he meowed, ducking his head. “Come on, Sunpaw, let’s go.”
And with that, the fragile tom, now broken inside, led them back to the hellscape that was SummerClan camp. As he walked in, he found himself freezing in horror.
Vulturemalice had listened to the pale furred she-cat with a curled lip and lashing tail, unable to understand her logic behind this attack. There was no reason for it other than Aspenstar did what Aspenstar wanted to do. He stiffened as she circled around his, feeling the heat radiating off her pelt as she moved closer with each circle. There was a faint stench about her, one that reminded the young tom of the rotting carcasses that he came across sometimes and pillaged for the bones he so loved. But her scent was sweet, cloying, almost and making him want to gag. As she listed the cats that helped her in this endeavor, he gave a small snarl, shooting a look over to Sunfreckle with unmasked fury. The once medicine cat apprentice of this Clan, one that could have been his his position if she hadn't been so foolish and fall for a pretty face. For once in his life, he truly felt hate, and wasn't ashamed for it.
But that was when the red hot slash of pain went from shoulder to shoulder, narrowly missing his jugular. His eyes widened for a moment, looking down at the scarlet that was spreading across his snowy chest. There was a look of confusion across his face as he felt the heat trickled down his front legs and onto the dusty ground below. He heard the blood pounding in his ears, in tune with the erratic beating on his head. Vulturemalice looked up, olive eyes searching for one face in particular before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and the medicine cat collapsed to the ground. For a moment, he thought he was going to die. Memories of a moonlit night and wildflowers, whispered promises, Sunpetal cackling at him for some reason or another, Sunpaw being the bright beam of light in his life that she was, Greythorn naming Vulturemalice his apprentice, finally being wanted and needed and loved. Those were what swam in his mind as the medicine cat slipped into the darkness, his heart beat continuing on.
If Sagebristle hadn't tripped him, Doe would have ignored Pinesimmer's sing-song threat curling through the night air, despite the horror of what he was laying out before them, and kept going. To him, Sunpetal needed to live more than Ratstar did. But as it was, Sagebristle did appear, and he did fall, and his delicate hold over the Garden Keeper was shattered. He stayed on the soft night-time grass the same as Sunpetal did when he tumbled down almost head over heels, not getting up immediately; but where she was lost in a numb dream for a moment as she stared up at Silverpelt beside him, Doe instead rolled onto his stomach, a low, slow growl in his throat as he looked up at the NightClan loyal guards. He was harmless at that moment, but it was one that said if he were ever in a position again where he could ruin them, he would. He wouldn't forget them.
Then, when Sunpetal got to her paws, Doe's attention shifted quickly to her as well and he did too. He let her position herself in front of him only reluctantly, his claws working in and out of the ground and his whole body tense as his gaze flicked from the back of her head to the NightClan cats in front of her. He hated that she felt she had to protect him, hated that she was no longer letting him look after her. When she pointed out how stupidly naïve the two warriors were, Doe's eyes flicked up to them with bitter disdain, nodding slightly behind her and feeling a fresh flood of loyal pride for Ratstar's daughter. While they had been out here in the meadows, Aspenstar had been heading a slaughter of elders and warriors barely out of the apprentice's den. He hoped it rattled their devotion, hoped they felt sickened by themselves and their leader and their Clan, once his own. He hated them specifically because he had once been them.
But then Sunpetal, borderline hysterical, was offering herself up for her father's life. In a flash of panic, Doe grabbed her unceremoniously by the scruff with his teeth and hauled her back. "Don't be stupid," he snapped when she was safe beside him, though his voice shook and his eyes were wild. He looked back at the two NightClan cats. "We'll go back." He didn't want to - they could kill Ratstar, he'd grieve over the guilt of it later - but if it was between Sunpetal's life and a prison back in the SummerClan camp, he would. He nuzzled Sunpetal's fluffy neck fur briefly, like he was checking she wasn't hurt, and then added to her in a scolding hiss, "no one is dying for anyone." Lashing his tail, he turned and pointedly waited for the NightClan cats to escort them back. "Very nice medicine cat you have," he added sneeringly as he waited close beside Sunpetal, tail still flicking back and forth dangerously. "Goes very well with your tyrannical leader. And her psychotic mate. And all the disloyal scum in your Clan. When you're done turning SummerClan into a wasteland maybe you'll work your way through the other territories, make a new little empire to bow to Aspenstar. You should be very proud to be loyal guards," he finished, high and mocking. All the poppy seeds were making him slightly drunk, and with that came the nasty, nasally hate. woofachromaticsunlight
Weevilspike
With Aspenstar now addressing him directly, all of Weevilspike's fragile power slipped away. His ears sank slowly against his head, his wide eyes growing more and more lost, more timid, more afraid the further he became out of his depth. He had no idea what the right terms to agree to were, had no idea when to press for more, when to bargain and negotiate, when to just submit. When Vulturemalice fell bleeding at his paws, he risked a petrified glance at him for only a second before darting his eyes back up to the NightClan leader, trying so hard not to let her see how terribly he was trembling. He wanted to help his friend, wanted to crouch over him and rush to his aid, but he didn't dare. He knew that now that he had offered SummerClan's surrender, it fell to him to tell them all to stop fighting. But he couldn't. He had no right to do that, this prince who had never stepped up to be a prince before. He didn't know how. The battle continued to rage around these few cats standing still, Weevilspike standing tall and scruffy above both the she-cats but looking the smallest and most frightened of them all.
He opened his mouth, his tongue dry, and closed it a heartbeat later. Suddenly turning his head to look imploringly at his mother, he pleaded with her shakily, "it should be you. Tell them to stop fighting, mom. Tell them to give in. For Ratstar. For Sunpetal. For your kits. Please, mom." Closing his eyes, he briefly pressed his forehead against Poppymask's cheek, begging her, trying to be her baby boy again if that would make her see what she had to do. She'd always been the queen of SummerClan; now the queen had to surrender. Reaching out a shaking paw, he laid it on Vulturemalice's shoulder, just to reassure his friend lying unconscious at his paws that he was there, that he was trying, that it would be okay, the movement so small and so slow that he hoped Aspenstar wouldn't notice it. @ian Jadie
Moonblight's little vacation came to an abrupt end at the sudden intrusion. He had a job to do, and he wanted to make Aspenstar and Phantomfox proud, after all. He had entered this scene with that faux-fierce expression upon his face, the stony cold face of a warrior, of the moon that shined so brightly in the sky. Sagebristle had always been the more eloquent one even if he was often the one holding her back. He had been told of his mission; make sure no one gets out and no one gets hurt. He just wasn't exactly expecting the reality of it all.
He had meant to keep quiet, to simply complete his mission, but for a moment, his expression broke its facade he had always kept so carefully placed. The slight furrow of his brow and his wide-eyed look of confusion disappeared after a moment, but the confusion seemed to remain. "We're not here to kill you," he spoke quickly, blinking at the two stragglers, "we're here to make sure you're fine and...well, you guys don't look like you're going to make it far anyway. We're not turning anywhere into a wasteland."
The young loyal guard didn't seem all too confident; something about how Sunpetal had begged made him...uncomfortable, though he wasn't exactly sure why he'd feel that way at all. Still, the way they talked about Aspenstar frustrated him; his loyalty was to the leader and the clan that had raised him, after all. He just pushed that feeling away. He turned to Sagebristle, his eyes clouded with something else, barely discernable from his usual impassive expression. "We have orders to bring them back to Aspenstar," he spoke, glancing at them briefly but not lingering lest it felt just as uncomfortable as before, "if they don't struggle we don't have to hurt them." sunlightwooffox
SUMMERCLAN Sunpaw didn't know what to think. She gave Foxpaw a pleading look, as if asking him. Are you really going to give up this easily? She had no choice; she wasn't planning on leaving the clan behind, not even in its darkest hour. She had been left behind once, and she had never forgotten how absolutely horrible it had felt. Would she really do that to her friends? To the other apprentices? To Sunpetal, and Yarntangle, and all of the other cats she had grown up with? Surely there must be some solution. She hated the thought of giving up, but what could a single apprentice do?
With her eyes still blazing like a flame, she glared at Phantomfox, already planning out her revenge as she followed behind. @ian
Nightclan Sagebristle didn't know what to make of everything that was going on, and confusion only deepened her scowl. All she knew was this she-cat was crying and talking about her father and accusing them of coming in here and taking over... it was too much. "I never said I was gonna hurt them," she snapped at Moonblight, her tail lashing behind her. "Starclan, I'm not a monster, and I'm not going to kill you," she told Sunpetal, before giving Doefreckle a dirty look. "Stop blabbering and get back to camp. Piss-simmer's a wimp and he won't hurt your dad, so for the love of the stars can you stop crying already?"
The russet tabby didn't know what was going on, exactly, but she knew the truth of it all, the answers she wanted, lay back at the Summerclan camp. "Come on, get moving," she grumbled, prodding Sunpetal's shoulder with her paw.
Summerclan Rosethorn flinched away when Phantomfox touched her, before she was suddenly, violently placed on her feet and shoved off towards camp again. Her head was pounding from the loss of blood, and her cheek and chest gashes still stung viciously. Still, she put one foot after another, following her son back to camp.
The walk back was longer than she thought she could bear, and she was only half-conscious by the time they got back, dizzy from exhaustion, the emotional toll of the evening, and the wounds that caked her pretty fur red with blood. When Foxpaw came to a halt, she lifted her head wearily, waiting for the next set of directions.
NIGHTCLAN Pinesimmer sat next to the hole the pair had escaped from, watching the interaction from where he was. He couldn't necessarily hear all their words since they weren't exactly shouting, but he could understand what was going on well enough from Sunpetal's reaction. Knowing the she-cat would be worried for her father and likely want to ensure he was okay, the medicine cat motioned, as if to be a gentleman that he truly wasn't, towards where Doe and Ratstar's daughter had escaped from at the back of his new den. "No time to waste, back in you go. I'm sure you'd like to make sure your father is okay, hmm?" He spoke loudly, staring at Sunpetal in particular. wooffox
We’re here to make sure you’re fine. “Oh, good,” Doefreckle said to Sunpetal with contemptuous cheer, ignoring the loyal guard who was barely more than a mewling kit. Doe’s teeth seemed sharper than usual in the moonlight, his voice loud and obnoxious because he was so unspeakably beyond caring and he wanted to grate on the loyal guards more than anything. If they were stuck with him, by Christ they were stuck with the worst of him. “They’re here to make sure we’re fine. Such a magnificent job they’re doing! Massacre in camp but thank God the borders are secure. I can sleep soundly tonight knowing NightClan chooses their good little soldiers for anything but their brains.” The last part was directed at Sagebristle, his head swinging slowly around to look at her and his paws drifting him uncomfortably close to his escort. For the first time since the night of his warrior ceremony, Doefreckle wasn’t limping; but all that meant was he couldn’t feel the incredibly painful damage he was doing to his broken paw by putting his full weight on it. Before she or her dim-witted boyfriend could snap at him, Doe dragged his icy glare from Sagebristle and moved back beside Sunpetal. He barely resisted the urge to fuss over her.
He said nothing as he passed by Pinesimmer, just scraping over the medicine cat with a deep, fiery coldness in his eyes before looking away and following Sunpetal back into the den. Once they were back within the camp walls, the stench of blood was overwhelming and Doe almost had the urge to burst into tears. Though he didn’t want to leave Sunpetal with the three NightClan cats, he couldn’t stop himself from ducking his head out of the den entrance to look around at the camp. What he saw was worse than any nightmare he could ever have conjured. Everything, broken. Ruined. Blood and fur and darkness and corpses, bits of den walls strewn across the clearing. A terrible, grim silence. His gaze snagged on Vulturemalice lying unconscious and he drew in a shallow, shaky breath, not letting it out even when the panicked, tearful relief of seeing his chest rising and falling flooded through him. He wanted to run to him but the medicine cat was too close to Aspenstar, and he dared not interrupt what looked like high stakes between her, Weevilspike and Poppymask that would likely decide the future of SummerClan.
As the battle began to ease to drained, fearful confusion, cats stumbling around numbly, Doe wove slowly through them - and spotted Rosethorn staggering into camp, bloody and unsteady. He started to move quickly towards her, paying her son no mind - and stopped still when Phantomfox slipped in behind her at the end of the single file, looking monstrously proud of himself. But, lent numb, defiant courage by the pure horror and helplessness of the night, Doe ignored the NightClan tom and hurried over to Rosethorn all the same. “Are you alright?” he asked, breathless and quiet, falling in beside her and half-sitting to take some of her weight. He spared little care for the fate of SummerClan - they had lost and lost badly, and while other cats might grieve over that, Doe’s mind immediately moved past the defeat of the present and into the survival of them in the future. The defeat was a harrowing certainty that had already happened; the days and moons to come were not. There was no point in wasting time and energy and resources thinking of anything but that. sunlightwoofachromaticHoneystorm
NIGHTCLAN Doefeckle would regret leaving Sunpetal alone. Or perhaps he was simply tired of having to comfort the she-cat. Ratstar was fine when they walked into the den, Pinesimmer bringing up the rear. The medicine den was a small little respite from the chaos going on just a few feet away, as Doefeckle would have quickly discovered. No sooner than the tom had left the den, and the look on Pinesimmer's face contorted into a gruesome, sadistic sort of grin. As if his mask had been peeled away to reveal a monster beneath.
He was standing oh so close to the incapacitated SummerClan leader. All the lanky healer had to do was reach, just a little bit...
"You or him try to run.." The NightClan tom's claws ripped through Ratstar's throat before Sunpetal could stop him. He was nothing if not fast. And with a target that couldn't dodge or fight back, well, there was no chance, was there? "..and the consequences will be much more severe from here on out." Blood pooled beneath his paw, the stench of blood intensifying as fresh crimson was spilled to the ground. Pinesimmer's face half shadowed from the moonlight, wearing a smile as twisted as could be. For once it was easy to see how he and Aspenstar were family. They often stood on opposite sides, but they were two sides of a monstrous coin all the same. foxwoofsunlightachromatic
Moonblight's eyes narrowed at Doefreckle's words. The tom sure was throwing a lot of insults for a cat who barely seemed capable enough to be a warrior. He had thought to be nice earlier, to ask the cat if he needed help with that twisted paw of his, but the kindness was all but gone from his expression now. Between the other cat whining and Sagebristle being her usual snappy self, Moonblight's optimistic attitude was quickly dissipating into the night air as he gave Doefreckle a scoff.
"Maybe that's why Aspenstar wanted us to join," he spoke brightly as if making an offhanded comment to his partner rather than to the cats they were now herding back to camp like lost sheep, "if their warriors are like that, of course, they'll need some sort of guidance and protection, don't you think? Especially tht one with the paw..." he fake-whispered, loud enough fo them to hear. "They can't even take down our medicine cat, how would they fight off enemy warriors in the first place?"
His voice was laced with the false naivete that came across so naturally in his character, one that others rarely questioned, rarely saw through as another mask he wore to make himself seem less intimidating, less of a threat, and yet there were times when he allowed the mask to slip, the pointed conversation and the loudly-spoken assumptions would reveal the cat underneath all the layers of snake skin he wore upon his personality. His words were almost cruel, and for a moment, he almost seemed to relish in it, as if trying to get a rise from the group of stragglers, before the mask was fitted on again, and it could be easily mistaken for a mouse brained comment from a warrior barely out of his apprenticeship.
He didn't allow it to slip again when he arrived in SummerClan's camp, even though the carnage was not what he had expected. It was a diplomatic trip, wasn't it? This didn't seem diplomatic at all. He set his jaw once more, his eyes narrowed with the impassive look of a guard who didn't question anything. It'd do no good to show weakness now.
Nightclan Sagebristle chuckled alongside Moonblight's comments, still amused by how easily they'd taken out two warriors with no resistance. She was going to make a retort when they entered the confusing, chaotic camp, and she was caught off guard. It certainly didn't look like they were helping, with two dead Summerclan cats, a few still fighting, and most standing around in stiff silence while watching Aspenstar with unbridled fear.
Then Rosethorn was stumbling back into camp with Foxpaw, two-thirds of her foster family, and Rosethorn looked ragged and bloody. Who had hurt her? Why?
Then Pinesimmer was carving open some cat's neck, and someone was howling with grief. This was entirely not helpful to Summerclan, but like Moonblight, she'd sworn allegiance to Aspenstar. Her jaw tightened, but her gaze remained neutral, taking in the chaos with no more disruption than a fast-beating heart.
Summerclan "I've been better," Rosethorn said hoarsely, leaning against Doefreckle gratefully. She said no more, not wanting to draw attention to the two of them, but her eyes shifted from Foxpaw to the crowd, seeking and failing to find her sister, seeking Howlingheart, taking in the bodies on the ground with mute horror. She wished she could move to her son, cover his eyes and turn him away from the carnage, but she could do nothing more than wait and see what the orders were- where was she to go? Where was Foxpaw to go? She couldn't form any sort of plan without information.
(Damn I'm not active enough for this, slow down everyone else!!!!!!!!! LOL)
"We'll do what?"
It was a honest question.
Poppymask fundamentally did not understand what Aspenstar was saying. It wasn't that the queen was stupid, I mean, she wasn't smart but she wasn't totally dumb, the problem was that she was overstimulated. There was too much going on for her to properly process to any of it. The blood on Aspenstar's muzzle; the way she kept calling everyone she spoke to a darling even though she was hurting them, which as a contradiction; the screaming, the yowling; Weevilspike pleading with her to yield and give in... but give it to what? And why?
In other words, her brain was short circuiting, but Poppymask knew she had to make a decision and make one fast.
"Oh, yes, of course we will," She didn't know what she was agreeing to exactly, but Weevilspike had convinced her it was good, and the only good thing that she could imagine happening right now was the fighting stopping or Ratstar waking up. Either of those things were worth a deal with the devil in her books, "But, Just... Just stop all of this! We are only fighting you to defend ourselves, call your cats off and it'll stop immediately. SummerClan cats are PEACEFUL. We talk things out to healthy resolutions. Whatever you want we would have likely given to you if only you'd asked before drawing blood..."
Poppymask then tore her eyes away from Aspensatr and met Weevilspike's, the unspoken question being, Did I do what I was supposed to do? She was no leader. She was not capable of making big decisions and she wasn't even all that trustworthy. But Poppymask loved her family more than anything and would do whatever it took to protect them. @ian fox
He stood beside his mother, nodding along desperately with her words. Whatever you want we would have likely given to you if only you'd asked before drawing blood - that cut through the adrenalised haze and made him choke up with grief; but it was too late to cry about now. When his mother looked up at him, he turned his head to look back, meeting her dazed, questioning gaze with a thin, tearful smile and eyes welling with emotion. He gave her a little nod. You did, mama.
Weevilspike opened his mouth to address Aspenstar, tell her to call of her warriors, when he caught the scents of blood and his sister mingled together, drifting from the medicine den. His eyes widened, dreadful fear squeezing his heart and making it feel like it was close to stopping. Throwing Poppymask a terrified glance, he backed away, turned, and bolted for the medicine den - to find the NightClan medicine cat hunched over his father, hot blood pumping around his claws, and his sister flanked by cold-eyed guards. Weevilspike's paws had always been a fraction too large for his body, and now he scarcely came to a full stop from where he'd half-scrabbled, half-skidded into the gloom of the den, his eyes darting frantically around the scene, before he made a split second decision and hurled himself at Pinesimmer. It was a stupid decision, really, when this was precisely the kind of behaviour Pinesimmer had been threatening violence for, and when he and his mother had just signed an unequivocal surrender to Aspenstar - but he wasn't trying to hurt the medicine cat, he was just trying to get him away from his father.
He bowled Pinesimmer over, keeping the claws of his great puppy paws sheathed, and rolled once before pinning the medicine cat's chest with his own, keeping him down through size difference rather than physical harm. His father's blood was smeared over his wild pelt; he winced at the feeling, at the smell. "Fix him," he ordered the brown tom forcefully, but try as he might there was no threat in his voice, no snarl - it was quiet and shaky and terrified, a prince playing at crowns. He stared down at Pinesimmer desperately, trying to force some kind of menace into his eyes. It collapsed before it was even formed. "Please." He didn't dare take his eyes off the medicine cat to look at where his father was bleeding out behind him, or at where he could feel his favourite sister, his best friend, in the close, stifling, too-warm darkness. "Please." Honeystormwoofachromaticsunlight
Doefreckle
His heart breaking, Doe rested his chin between Rosethorn's ears for a moment before he lowered his head and began to gently groom the blood from her soft fur in silence. He tried to keep his movements as slow and subtle as possible, following her lead on trying to avoid Phantomfox's attention. He didn't know exactly what her ex-husband had done, but he could figure out enough. He was no stranger to the violence of lovers'. The NightClan tom likely wouldn't react well to someone helping his prize, but Doe couldn't leave her there sitting by herself with blood drying on her fur and this was the only quiet comfort he could think to offer.
