Whisperingpaw hissed in alarm and bounded after Batglare and Thundersnow, his orange pelt flashing like a blazing fire. He trailed behind Batglare, embarrassed that he was late. He saw poor Gingersplash's body and stopped dead in his tracks. 'Not another death..' He thought, half listening to his mentor. Whisperingpaw stepped forward and sniffed the body before stepping away with a gag. The stench was horrible. The orange apprentice padded out slightly to look around for what killed his clanmate. The smell of the body and water drowned out anything else that could have been there. Whisperingpaw yelped in alarm as Batglare was attacked by a foul-smelling creature. He didn't have time to help before one of the beasts crashed into him. Whisperingpaw wriggled his way out of the beasts grip and dashed to the side, aiming to bite another minks leg. At the last second he dodged to the side and racked his claws along the beasts flank. He quickly jumped onto it's back and used the move Foxglovekiss taught him. He hooked his claws into the minks shoulder and shoved it to the ground. Whisperingpaw jumped off and tried running for Batglare and Thundersnow, but a mink grabbed his left hind leg and dragged him back.
"BATGLARE-" He yowled before hitting the creature across the face with both his paws. Whisperingpaw felt a mink bite his leg again, but he shook it off and ran for Batglare, hoping to fight alongside him.
PLEASE KNOW THAT MY CHARACTERS HAVE VERY DIFFERENT VIEWS AND OPINIONS THAN ME!! And that they may think or act in ways you might not deem acceptable, but I do not think or act in these ways.
Batglare winced as a scratch above his eye had blood pooling in his vision, he narrowly missed a set of fangs going for his throat. He diligently grabbed Gingersplash's body before the minks could dart off it. Minks were vile creatures like that, they killed for sport and often hoarded what they killed for some crazy reason that Batglare couldn't and didn't feel like understanding. He was in the middle of wrestling the dead cat on his back, and blinking blood out of one eye; when he heard his apprentice screech. He had been fighting well enough when he arrived.
He whipped around, nearly dropping Gingersplash in his haste to locate Whisperingpaw. His muscles coiled as he spotted the bright orange apprentice, stumbling with a mink attached to his hind leg. Pain burst from Batglare thigh where he felt fangs dig through raw muscles, though it was ignored in favor of Batglare keeping an eye on Whisperingpaw, ensuring that nothing went for the apprentice's throat. Luckily, Whisperingpaw recovered quickly enough knocked the mink on his leg off, and darted straight over to Batglare.
He stifled the urge to check the apprentice over, now wasn't the time. His yellow-green hues found Thundersnow struggling with another mink. The pain in his hind leg was starting to turn searing, but he was unable to turn with the dead cat on his back. "Whisperingpaw, stay close to me and get the one off my back leg." He orders the apprentice while swinging his head around, enduring, and keeping Thundersnow within his line of sight. Ah there.
"Thundersnow, head for that gorse, push through and out the far side. Whisperingpaw, follow him." Batglare demanded, surging forward to swipe at the mink Thundersnow had half blinded, moving it out of the tom's way. He noticed the blood falling from Thundersnow's hindleg, but as he was still on his paws he could move. The exit wasn't ideal, but Batglare would take thorns over minks. They needed an out and that was the only one Batglare knew the minks wouldn't follow them through. Fighting to get out the way they had originally come was certain death with such a small patrol. He wasn't dying here and nor was he allowed Whisperingpaw or Thundersnow to either.
"These things are nimble and quick-witted, once they latch on to something they don't let go, watch your neck, they'll grow straight for it if you let your guard done even for a second." Batglare advised, jerking his head to the side as a leaping mink went straight for his face. Gingersplash's body was slowing him, but he didn't dare drop the deceased warrior. If they could get through the gorse...
Batglare winced as a scratch above his eye had blood pooling in his vision, he narrowly missed a set of fangs going for his throat. He diligently grabbed Gingersplash's body before the minks could dart off it. Minks were vile creatures like that, they killed for sport and often hoarded what they killed for some crazy reason that Batglare couldn't and didn't feel like understanding. He was in the middle of wrestling the dead cat on his back, and blinking blood out of one eye; when he heard his apprentice screech. He had been fighting well enough when he arrived.
He whipped around, nearly dropping Gingersplash in his haste to locate Whisperingpaw. His muscles coiled as he spotted the bright orange apprentice, stumbling with a mink attached to his hind leg. Pain burst from Batglare thigh where he felt fangs dig through raw muscles, though it was ignored in favor of Batglare keeping an eye on Whisperingpaw, ensuring that nothing went for the apprentice's throat. Luckily, Whisperingpaw recovered quickly enough knocked the mink on his leg off, and darted straight over to Batglare.
He stifled the urge to check the apprentice over, now wasn't the time. His yellow-green hues found Thundersnow struggling with another mink. The pain in his hind leg was starting to turn searing, but he was unable to turn with the dead cat on his back. "Whisperingpaw, stay close to me and get the one off my back leg." He orders the apprentice while swinging his head around, enduring, and keeping Thundersnow within his line of sight. Ah there.
"Thundersnow, head for that gorse, push through and out the far side. Whisperingpaw, follow him." Batglare demanded, surging forward to swipe at the mink Thundersnow had half blinded, moving it out of the tom's way. He noticed the blood falling from Thundersnow's hindleg, but as he was still on his paws he could move. The exit wasn't ideal, but Batglare would take thorns over minks. They needed an out and that was the only one Batglare knew the minks wouldn't follow them through. Fighting to get out the way they had originally come was certain death with such a small patrol. He wasn't dying here and nor was he allowed Whisperingpaw or Thundersnow to either.
"These things are nimble and quick-witted, once they latch on to something they don't let go, watch your neck, they'll grow straight for it if you let your guard done even for a second." Batglare advised, jerking his head to the side as a leaping mink went straight for his face. Gingersplash's body was slowing him, but he didn't dare drop the deceased warrior. If they could get through the gorse...
He turned to the gorse tunnel, perking his ears towards it. Filled with adrenaline, he gave Whisperingpaw a beckoning look before galloping messily over to the exit, leaving a trail of crimson behind him.
Starclan help them now. He shot Batglare a worried glance, but kept trodding forward, his long tail covering his open wound.
He watched as minks stared back at them, some even savage enough to scramble after his pawsteps. He hissed at the creatures, swiping claws at them while keeping Whisperingpaw close behind. "Watch your step," he managed through the blood rushing in his ears. "The exits not that far..."
While leaping over minks, and dodging them left and right, one of them finally managed to get a blow at his ear.
He winced, but padded on, quicking his pace. He shook his head violently until the animal came loose.
Finally, they were at the exit. He felt like he'd been here for moons on end. Leaping out of Twilightfalls and into safer territory was already a relief. He turned back to look at Whisperingpaw with concerned eyes of hazle. The apprentice must be shaken.
He took a few more cautious steps away from the bloodshed, his tail flicking anxiously. Batglare was still in there.
Thundersnow sat and licked his wounds as best he could, mind racing.
He'd get out alive. He'd have to. No way they'd loose a warrior in a time like this.
Batglare winced as a scratch above his eye had blood pooling in his vision, he narrowly missed a set of fangs going for his throat. He diligently grabbed Gingersplash's body before the minks could dart off it. Minks were vile creatures like that, they killed for sport and often hoarded what they killed for some crazy reason that Batglare couldn't and didn't feel like understanding. He was in the middle of wrestling the dead cat on his back, and blinking blood out of one eye; when he heard his apprentice screech. He had been fighting well enough when he arrived.
He whipped around, nearly dropping Gingersplash in his haste to locate Whisperingpaw. His muscles coiled as he spotted the bright orange apprentice, stumbling with a mink attached to his hind leg. Pain burst from Batglare thigh where he felt fangs dig through raw muscles, though it was ignored in favor of Batglare keeping an eye on Whisperingpaw, ensuring that nothing went for the apprentice's throat. Luckily, Whisperingpaw recovered quickly enough knocked the mink on his leg off, and darted straight over to Batglare.
He stifled the urge to check the apprentice over, now wasn't the time. His yellow-green hues found Thundersnow struggling with another mink. The pain in his hind leg was starting to turn searing, but he was unable to turn with the dead cat on his back. "Whisperingpaw, stay close to me and get the one off my back leg." He orders the apprentice while swinging his head around, enduring, and keeping Thundersnow within his line of sight. Ah there.
"Thundersnow, head for that gorse, push through and out the far side. Whisperingpaw, follow him." Batglare demanded, surging forward to swipe at the mink Thundersnow had half blinded, moving it out of the tom's way. He noticed the blood falling from Thundersnow's hindleg, but as he was still on his paws he could move. The exit wasn't ideal, but Batglare would take thorns over minks. They needed an out and that was the only one Batglare knew the minks wouldn't follow them through. Fighting to get out the way they had originally come was certain death with such a small patrol. He wasn't dying here and nor was he allowed Whisperingpaw or Thundersnow to either.
"These things are nimble and quick-witted, once they latch on to something they don't let go, watch your neck, they'll grow straight for it if you let your guard done even for a second." Batglare advised, jerking his head to the side as a leaping mink went straight for his face. Gingersplash's body was slowing him, but he didn't dare drop the deceased warrior. If they could get through the gorse...
He turned to the gorse tunnel, perking his ears towards it. Filled with adrenaline, he gave Whisperingpaw a beckoning look before galloping messily over to the exit, leaving a trail of crimson behind him.
Starclan help them now. He shot Batglare a worried glance, but kept trodding forward, his long tail covering his open wound.
He watched as minks stared back at them, some even savage enough to scramble after his pawsteps. He hissed at the creatures, swiping claws at them while keeping Whisperingpaw close behind. "Watch your step," he managed through the blood rushing in his ears. "The exits not that far..."
While leaping over minks, and dodging them left and right, one of them finally managed to get a blow at his ear.
He winced, but padded on, quicking his pace. He shook his head violently until the animal came loose.
Finally, they were at the exit. He felt like he'd been here for moons on end. Leaping out of Twilightfalls and into safer territory was already a relief. He turned back to look at Whisperingpaw with concerned eyes of hazle. The apprentice must be shaken.
He took a few more cautious steps away from the bloodshed, his tail flicking anxiously. Batglare was still in there.
Thundersnow sat and licked his wounds as best he could, mind racing.
He'd get out alive. He'd have to. No way they'd loose a warrior in a time like this.
Whisperingpaw immediately followed through with Batglare's orders and dragged the mink off his leg and slapped it across the face with his paw which sent the beast away. He snarled at some others and unsheathed his claws. A mink charged forward and Whisperingpaw reared up on his hind legs quickly and slammed his paws down onto the beasts shoulders and hooked his claws into its stinking flesh. He heard a screech come from the mink, so he threw it to the side and dashed after Thundersnow through the gorse. He slashed his claws across the face of any mink that tried to attack the pair as they went for the exit, adrenaline pumping through his body. Whisperingpaw glanced at Thundersnow before whipping his body around to look for Batglare. "BATGLARE!!" He yowled, his tail lashing. 'Batlgare better come out or so help me, I'll rip every mink to shreds.'
__________________
PLEASE KNOW THAT MY CHARACTERS HAVE VERY DIFFERENT VIEWS AND OPINIONS THAN ME!! And that they may think or act in ways you might not deem acceptable, but I do not think or act in these ways.
Batglare felt just a bit of weight leave his shoulders as Thundersnow and Whisperingpaw heeded his orders. With his hind leg free, he moved swiftly after his clanmates, focusing on moving over fighting. He kept Gingersplash's body out of their reach, but it cost him some fur and scratches along his flanks for it. A tail length from the gorse, perhaps in a last-ditch effort to catch them, Batglare felt tiny claws hook into his fur and muscle of his shoulder, and teeth sink into the back of his neck.
A second one followed the first, scaling up the tom's foreleg and driving its fangs into his chest. The extra weight had him stumbling, and for a split second, Batglare could imagine himself losing his balance and falling to never get up again. Dazed with pain, for a heartbeat that didn't sound like too bad. It wasn't like he had anything worth living for, few would miss Batglare, instead, they would mourn the loss of a great warrior.
The annoying yowl of his name from the gorse tunnel knocked the strange thought from the brown and white tom's head. That's right, still had to finish Twistedpaw's and Whisperingpaw's training. No time to die right now. With a surge of strength, Batglare threw himself into the gorse. The thorns felt eerily like the mink teeth biting into the body. The two minks that had been clinging to the large warrior released him not long after they reached the thorns.
They dropped off him like a tick touched by mousebile. He didn't see where they dropped, too busy ensuring Gingersplash's body didn't fall as he fought his way through thorns. By the time he made his way out of the gorse, Batglare was pretty sure he was missing more tufts of fur, and he was pretty sure he had a thorn or two stuck in his muzzle. But he was out and he had gotten the body with him.
With one eye closed due to blood, his single one latched on to Thundersnow and Whisperingpaw, pleased to see they were both still standing. "You two alright? Still standing?" The low timber of the warrior's voice was tinged with tiredness. That was a lot for one patrol. Batglare barely resisted the urge poke and sniff at Whisperingpaw as he often did with Twistedpaw. That one didn't seem to like physical contact as much Twistedpaw. Batglare didn't think they should have gotten out of alive there.
He leaned down, sliding the warrior's body from his back, and took a moment to just breath. He could hear the minks behind them, but they didn't seem intent on chasing them. They'd need to move before that changed, but a second to breath wouldn't hurt. Batglare would need to stop by Starry Meadows on their way home, it'd be to tiresome to walk all the way back to the camp and back out to the Starry Meadow. He could bury Gingersplash on their way back.
"How's your leg, Thundersnow?" He asked, noting that the tom had been leaving a trail of blood behind him. He must of cut it somethign deep if it was still going. They should probably find some cobwebs, walking through the territory with bleeding wounds as bad as Thundersnow's would result in attacks from hawks or worst.
Batglare felt just a bit of weight leave his shoulders as Thundersnow and Whisperingpaw heeded his orders. With his hind leg free, he moved swiftly after his clanmates, focusing on moving over fighting. He kept Gingersplash's body out of their reach, but it cost him some fur and scratches along his flanks for it. A tail length from the gorse, perhaps in a last-ditch effort to catch them, Batglare felt tiny claws hook into his fur and muscle of his shoulder, and teeth sink into the back of his neck.
A second one followed the first, scaling up the tom's foreleg and driving its fangs into his chest. The extra weight had him stumbling, and for a split second, Batglare could imagine himself losing his balance and falling to never get up again. Dazed with pain, for a heartbeat that didn't sound like too bad. It wasn't like he had anything worth living for, few would miss Batglare, instead, they would mourn the loss of a great warrior.
The annoying yowl of his name from the gorse tunnel knocked the strange thought from the brown and white tom's head. That's right, still had to finish Twistedpaw's and Whisperingpaw's training. No time to die right now. With a surge of strength, Batglare threw himself into the gorse. The thorns felt eerily like the mink teeth biting into the body. The two minks that had been clinging to the large warrior released him not long after they reached the thorns.
They dropped off him like a tick touched by mousebile. He didn't see where they dropped, too busy ensuring Gingersplash's body didn't fall as he fought his way through thorns. By the time he made his way out of the gorse, Batglare was pretty sure he was missing more tufts of fur, and he was pretty sure he had a thorn or two stuck in his muzzle. But he was out and he had gotten the body with him.
With one eye closed due to blood, his single one latched on to Thundersnow and Whisperingpaw, pleased to see they were both still standing. "You two alright? Still standing?" The low timber of the warrior's voice was tinged with tiredness. That was a lot for one patrol. Batglare barely resisted the urge poke and sniff at Whisperingpaw as he often did with Twistedpaw. That one didn't seem to like physical contact as much Twistedpaw. Batglare didn't think they should have gotten out of alive there.
He leaned down, sliding the warrior's body from his back, and took a moment to just breath. He could hear the minks behind them, but they didn't seem intent on chasing them. They'd need to move before that changed, but a second to breath wouldn't hurt. Batglare would need to stop by Starry Meadows on their way home, it'd be to tiresome to walk all the way back to the camp and back out to the Starry Meadow. He could bury Gingersplash on their way back.
"How's your leg, Thundersnow?" He asked, noting that the tom had been leaving a trail of blood behind him. He must of cut it somethign deep if it was still going. They should probably find some cobwebs, walking through the territory with bleeding wounds as bad as Thundersnow's would result in attacks from hawks or worst.
Thundersnow blinked slowly at Batglare, like blue skies threatened by low fog.
"It's, well... It's bleeding." He mewed in-between quickened licks as he tried to wipe up all of the pooling blood from his hind legs. He'd never gotten a cut so deep before. He could only imagine how much worse it could've been if he hadn't raked that mink off of him.
Though, scraping the animal against a edged rock didn't do him many favors either. He grimaced at the cut, his nostrils flaring.
Still, Thundersnow believed that he hadn't even gotten the worst of it. Batglare was covered in scars and was missing patches of fur left and right. Not to mention the thorns that clung to the last remaining traces of his pelt. Regardless of how badly hurt the warrior was, he still cared enough to show some concern for Thundersnow and his apprentice. Strong enough to make it though without complaining.
He admired that, truthfully. He was very glad that Batglare hadn't met a fate similar to Gingersplash.
"I can still walk. My strides should be quick enough to not slow the rest of you down." He assured, finally lifting his head to meet Batglare's tired gaze.
Thundersnow glanced back at his leg, and frowned at it. Oh stars above, this better heal soon. He really didn't want anything to follow his scarlet trail back to camp, they already had problems elsewhere, no need to pursue any more.
He strained his ears to hear for any possible threats, but only static ran through them. Or at least, one of them. Was the cut on his left ear that worrisome? He could already tell that his hearing was slipping away from his claws.
[ This post is kind of rough, but wanted to get it out there. RC cat is portrayed with their owner's permission! For clarity: Fernpaw is a missing WC cat who accidentally trespassed in RC land, was mistaken for a prey thief (it was a different rogue who did it, he just was in wrong place/wrong time), and was fatally injured. He managed to escape his attacker and end up on WC land before collapsing / dying. Post is primarily open for @taillow and @Rani so talk to them if you want to join in.
End of post is based in StarClan, as Fernpaw's power card curse is being removed from him so he can finally die for real. ]
How .. long had it been?
Fernpaw was struggling to remember. One minute, he'd been in WindClan's camp on guard, and the next an owl had claimed him for its next meal. It happened so fast he barely could register it.
From there, it was just an endless cycle. He awoke in plains unfamiliar, and found himself in the jaws of a coyote. A badger, sickness, a cave in while he tried to shelter underground, a monster that came out of nowhere when he darted across a path..
By now, he was simply a mess. His fur was a combination of torn and matted and he moved with a distinctive limp, no longer able to move faster than a shuffle. One of his eyes was completely glazed over from being plucked, and despite an overall slow pace he found himself panting. To any onlooker, he looked like a sick rogue.
A sick rogue on a quest. For all the torture he'd undergone, he had a simple goal in mind: make it home. He persevered through the trials that broke his body, determined to make it. He'd done it once, he could do this again. .. Stars, he was tired.
A familiar scent reignited his senses, and Fernpaw's eye flickered around. The land was only faintly recognizable - for reasons he couldn't quite place, but that smell... It was the strong odor of fish and salt, and his first impression of it was safety. Home. He had.. friends, nearby, he thought? So he followed it, paw dragging along the ground, he followed the scent in the hope of that security. He needed a break from constantly fighting to survive.
Beneath the scent was a tinge of blood, but Fernpaw didn't fully register it until he was nearly on top of the scene. Pieces of a bird were scattered across the ground, a messy kill with a half-eaten corpse left behind. .. who would do this? it seemed like such a waste.
"HOW DARE YOU!"
Fernpaw only had a second to connect the explosive to danger. With the allure of a nearby friend, his guard was down - a fatal mistake. He felt the searing pain of claws and teeth tear through him, shredding through already fragile skin like a knife through cloth. He attempted to twist away and put some distance between them, but only succeeded in leaving vulnerable spots open - spots Her claws found. "I'm going to make you bleed for stealing from my Clan." Her words dripped with venom and Fernpaw choked, trying to respond - but he couldn't with blood in his throat.
The catfish was ripping him apart, and Fernpaw barely managed to tear free and hobble away. His blood ran faster than the swollen river, and darkness was creeping in the corner of his vision. He.. he was scared, but not for himself. he was scared that he'd failed, that he'd never make it home.
the river was behind him, but the land he was in looked alien to him. And finally, the adrenaline that kept him going faded, and he collapsed. Fernpaw fell beneath the moor's skies, unaware just how close to home he was.
-----
When Fernpaw awoke, it was in the starry woods he knew well. He'd been here so many times, it truly felt like another home. "Hello?" he called out, wondering who he'd be seeing now. He'd met a variety of spirits over the course of moons - sometimes repeatedly.
The cat who emerged was one he knew only from a distance. It was hard to not know who Brokenstar was, probably one of the most active dead leaders of StarClan. Fernpaw knew him a little better as 'that cat that doesn't like revivals' and he couldn't help but swallow.
Seasons ago, Fernpaw had made an impulsive decision to defy the stars and force his own resurrection. It was during Brightstar's leadership ceremony... and he'd been so excited to see his sister again. Now his sister was gone, his family was gone -- Wolffang was gone and Bravebird was probably gone too - and it hurt, he hurt. waking up every time he died, hurt. His body was a shell of its former self, and he was so tired.
"I suspect you know why I've come." Brokenstar's gaze swept over him. "Are you finally done with this game, Fernkit? How many more times are you willing to be tortured for another breath of life?"
.. None, was Fernpaw's reality. His body was getting to the point where it was no longer healing properly, and he was aware his quality of life was only going to become worse and worse. He lowered his head, ashamed. ".. i'm sorry.."
"I don't want your apologies, boy. I want an answer: are you ready to end this?"
Fernpaw wasn't ashamed by the life he led, he was ashamed of the pain he caused. He never meant to leave, or to die, to make Twilightstar wonder where he'd gone or leave Bravebird and Laurelpaw. Stars, please let them know they were loved, and that he was forever sorry. "Yes, sir."
Brokenstar closed the gap. His ice-cold muzzle pressed against Fernpaw's forehead and a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in ages, Fernpaw no longer felt a burden over him -- he felt free. "Then by the powers of StarClan, I lift your curse of undeath. Next time, think before you jump.."
Brokenstar stepped back, and beckoned him to join him as he headed into the forest. "We do have to discuss what to do with you next. You've caused a disruption between living and death that cannot go unpunished."
And this, Fernpaw knew. He thought of the cats who'd seen him come back, die, come back.. He thought of Nettlespark, Deadmoon, cats who never had that chance. "I understand." And he'd follow Brokenstar into the heart of the stars, finally crossing over the border of death for the first time since his stillbirth.
-----
In the world of the living, Fernpaw's body would remain still, and this time rigor mortis would set in. By the time his body would be discovered, it'd reek of a combination of death and fish.
Re: Twilight Falls
