Brightpaw’s eyes bulged in surprise when his paw made contact with Splashleap—even just barely. He landed a blow!? No way. Relief surged through his veins and for a precious moment in time, despite Bright’s awkward size and setbacks in training, he didn’t feel like the most disappointing apprentice in RiverClan.
The black tom was too excited to move into a ready position afterwards, even though the deputy was already rounding on him. “Did you see that? I—” Wait. What??
Bright saw Splashleap turn as her claws slid out and if cats were able, he would’ve paled. Did he miss something? What did he do wrong? Anxiety spiked and in the heat of the moment, Brightpaw didn’t notice the unfamiliar scent of ‘badger’.
…At least not till Splash’s shrill warning, which reverberated in his ears and shook him to his core. Brightpaw gasped when he saw it. He’d never faced one before. It was a striped creature, flat-shaped with massive claws and two beady black eyes full of such unbridled fury that Bright failed to suppress a shudder.
He…he couldn’t move.
Why couldn't he move?
Snap out of it Bright, you idiot, GO! Even though every part of him was screaming, begging him to act, Brightpaw’s brain failed to motivate the rest of him; large paws stayed rooted to the earth while the apprentice’s expression was of picture of terror. What else could he do but helplessly watch the scene unfold? Nothing, nothing, he was useless when it counted, useless useless useless - !!
…Bright might have stayed like that (reeling) if not for Splashleap. Watching the badger’s claws tear through the deputy’s shoulder snapped him out of his haze like being dunked in ice water.
“No! Splashleap, be careful, please!” He shouted, voice trembling with fear but no, this was no time to be afraid. Brightpaw steeled himself with the little courage he had left because he couldn’t just stand there and wait for RiverClan’s deputy to get shredded.
Sucking in a panicked breath, Bright tried his hardest to concentrate. He dipped down so his chest fur rubbed the earth, coiling momentum and aiming for the badger’s … neck. Stars.
Oh, he was downright ridiculous, wasn’t he? Feeling a split second hesitation at the thought of killing a creature who would kill him without a second thought? Hopeless, Brightpaw could almost heard his brother scolding. No…he couldn’t think of Stormtalon now, couldn’t think of all the ways his brother had been right.
Bright’s heart hammered with the blood in his ears. Now or never. Splashleap needed backup. He was the only option; there was no one else, it was up to him, and Bright was going to do this. When the time came he didn’t think, just launched himself toward the snarling creature and hoped to StarClan its reflexes weren’t as quick as Splashleap’s.
Tears stung Bright’s eyes as he fastened needle-like claws into the earth, pulled himself just a little bit closer to camp’s entrance. Desperation tasted like copper in his mouth; it pooled in the back of his throat because he couldn't make himself swallow.
In the end it didn’t matter. None of it did, and Brightpaw shouldn’t be surprised. Delusional. Why did he think he could play hero—someone brave, capable, strong—someone like his brother? That’s not you. It was never gonna be you. Too plump, too slow, too useless for a warrior name, that’s the truth and you should have...you should have accepted it before you did something this stupid.
His deepest fears (usually buried ten feet deep in a mind full of positivity, the most vibrant colors of happiness and wonder) roamed free, rocked him to his core and screeched so LOUD the only other thing Bright heard was his own irregular breathing, faint, quick, gasping, faint again—
The sight of blood petrified Brightpaw. It always had, ever since he was a wide-eyed kit in the nursery hiding from his first piece of fresh kill, a mangled, gruesome-looking bird from a botched apprentice hunt. The unnatural red-coated feathers...they hurt him to look at back then. They hurt him now.
Bright knew and that's why he couldn't look. He smelled the trail of his own blood, the same thick sick scent from back then permeating his scent-glands even if he rejected it, and what if it was bad? What if seeing made it real? It felt off. Bright’s left hindleg refused to budge no matter how tirelessly he tried to move it; the limb dragged over moss and leaves as if it were asleep, heavy as a rock. Other stuff felt weird too but it was all muddled together and he just couldn’t look.
Snarling, teeth, more strength than Brightpaw ever felt in his life, a resounding CRACK. Red…red. It took him too long to realize he was bleeding out, not the badger. Why was he thinking of those feathers again?
Medicine. He needed…he needed uh… it got a lot harder to breathe. But he was almost there, a few fox-lengths away from clanmates who could make this go away, so close to help. Brightpaw hauled himself another step forward, ears slicked back with what felt like sweat. Why did he attack it? What on earth possessed him.
“S-Snakeheart…” This croaking, feeble voice that didn’t sound feline—was it really coming from Bright’s maw? "Snakeheart!"
Shock must be fading now because the pain set in, engulfed him, beat him against the edge of consciousness. Dark spikes extended like the arms of a sea urchin in every corner of his vision. For a moment Bright believed he’d pass out, was so sure the dark was seconds away from swallowing him whole.
Crumbling to the forest floor, the young tom's chest stuttered and StarClan, was this a heart attack?? His...his paws didn't work anymore. Brightpaw couldn't move; he was frozen in place. Just like when he saw the badger. He should call for Snakeheart again, he needed a medicine cat. He needed help. But – deep inside, Bright must’ve realized something he couldn’t consciously understand, because the next name the apprentice murmured wasn’t Snake’s: it was his brother’s.
Stormtalon...make it go away.
And then...nothing. A wave of nothing.
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Hiatus
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Full hiatus except for a couple threads I hope to finish up, ily all <3
Tears stung Bright’s eyes as he fastened needle-like claws into the earth, pulled himself just a little bit closer to camp’s entrance. Desperation tasted like copper in his mouth; it pooled in the back of his throat because he couldn't make himself swallow.
In the end it didn’t matter. None of it did, and Brightpaw shouldn’t be surprised. Delusional. Why did he think he could play hero—someone brave, capable, strong—someone like his brother? That’s not you. It was never gonna be you. Too plump, too slow, too useless for a warrior name, that’s the truth and you should have...you should have accepted it before you did something this stupid.
His deepest fears (usually buried ten feet deep in a mind full of positivity, the most vibrant colors of happiness and wonder) roamed free, rocked him to his core and screeched so LOUD the only other thing Bright heard was his own irregular breathing, faint, quick, gasping, faint again—
The sight of blood petrified Brightpaw. It always had, ever since he was a wide-eyed kit in the nursery hiding from his first piece of fresh kill, a mangled, gruesome-looking bird from a botched apprentice hunt. The unnatural red-coated feathers...they hurt him to look at back then. They hurt him now.
Bright knew and that's why he couldn't look. He smelled the trail of his own blood, the same thick sick scent from back then permeating his scent-glands even if he rejected it, and what if it was bad? What if seeing made it real? It felt off. Bright’s left hindleg refused to budge no matter how tirelessly he tried to move it; the limb dragged over moss and leaves as if it were asleep, heavy as a rock. Other stuff felt weird too but it was all muddled together and he just couldn’t look.
Snarling, teeth, more strength than Brightpaw ever felt in his life, a resounding CRACK. Red…red. It took him too long to realize he was bleeding out, not the badger. Why was he thinking of those feathers again?
Medicine. He needed…he needed uh… it got a lot harder to breathe. But he was almost there, a few fox-lengths away from clanmates who could make this go away, so close to help. Brightpaw hauled himself another step forward, ears slicked back with what felt like sweat. Why did he attack it? What on earth possessed him.
“S-Snakeheart…” This croaking, feeble voice that didn’t sound feline—was it really coming from Bright’s maw? "Snakeheart!"
Shock must be fading now because the pain set in, engulfed him, beat him against the edge of consciousness. Dark spikes extended like the arms of a sea urchin in every corner of his vision. For a moment Bright believed he’d pass out, was so sure the dark was seconds away from swallowing him whole.
Crumbling to the forest floor, the young tom's chest stuttered and StarClan, was this a heart attack?? His...his paws didn't work anymore. Brightpaw couldn't move; he was frozen in place. Just like when he saw the badger. He should call for Snakeheart again, he needed a medicine cat. He needed help. But – deep inside, Bright must’ve realized something he couldn’t consciously understand, because the next name the apprentice murmured wasn’t Snake’s: it was his brother’s.
Stormtalon...make it go away.
And then...nothing. A wave of nothing.
Hawthornmist
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A mouse swung from the Warrior’s jaws as he padded back to camp, a thin smile on his face, I don’t know why I keep going out and hunting whenever I have downtime, He thought to himself, It’s not like Kestrelstar can watch my every move, I’m probably just being extremely paranoid, he might not even know I’m half-
What was that?
Hawthornmist dropped the mouse and padded over to... whatever it was, and suddenly took a sharp breath.
In front of him was the mangled body of an apprentice, the smell of death not yet gripping it, but the stench of badger coated it, along with the blood that matted its fur. “No, no,” He choked, pressing a paw to his mouth, “Poor thing!”
Grabbing the bloodied scruff in his jaws, Hawthornmist began to trek back to camp, sorrow weighing his steps.
When he reached the camp, he dropped the apprentice lightly on the ground, and looked around, unsure of what to do next, who to tell, anything really.
He bent down and examined the apprentice’s face, which, in death, still held a look of fear and pain upon it, then, he recognized the cat. Brightpaw.
He needed Stormtalon...
He looked around the camp, worry and sorrow tugging at his paws, “Anyone know where Stormtalon is? He uh... needs to see this.”
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Probably permanent roleplay hiatus, though I’ll be around nonetheless. Might make some throwaways every now and then for people’s plots + Non-Clan cats and Nonwarriors roleplay characters. Free Art Header Shoppe
There was a familiar scent in the air that Iriskit just couldn't quite place. Why did she recognize that metallic taste and why did it make her feel so uneasy all of a sudden? She followed it out into the clearing, wanting to know what it was. Unfortunately, curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, killed a bit more of her innocence.
She didn't see Brightpaw's body at first. What caught her eye was a dark, wet trail leading in from the entrance to the camp. As she wandered closer, she realized it might have been a pretty scarlet color at one point - though it had dried to brown as the sand of camp soaked it up. The fur along her spine bristled as her gaze moved up the trail. Her unease grew, her heart beating in her throat, her stomach twisting with nausea as the scent became thick in the air.
The trail led to Brightpaw. She squinted at first, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her brother. What was he doing laying around in the middle of camp? That silly boy. Maybe he would know what was going on! She moved forward eagerly.
But she froze as she got a better look, paling under her fur. Brightpaw's fur was unnaturally slicked back although he had been recently swimming... but that substance was too sticky to be water. His leg was laid at an unnatural angle as if it had somehow snapped. He was laying in a growing pool of that scarlet liquid, shiny and fresh. She couldn't tell if he was breathing. His eyes were open... and why did they look like that?
She inhaled a sharp gasp of air and realized that the stench in the air was blood. Her brother's lifeblood, dyeing the ground around him red. She felt rooted to the ground, unable to move forward to her brother's side. What happened? Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Why weren't they helping him? What was she supposed to do? She exhaled a choked cry, a sob rising from her chest out of nowhere. Where was Stormtalon?
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I'm attempting to reply to my main roleplays once a day! (if there are responses for me to reply to anyway) However, I might miss some days on the weekend (fri-sun) because I'm often away from home and my computer during that time of the week.
@Ziera @Willowfern @Zero
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It had been a relatively boring day. Well... as boring as Riverclan could get these days. Bumblestep hadn't left his nest this morning for some early hunting. Instead, he chose to sleep in. Catch up on some Z's, think about Stormtalon, enjoy every bit of peace he could.
He wasn't sure what caught his attention first. Was it the pungent smell of blood wafting through the clearing? Its thick, metallic scent flooded his nose, bringing nothing but fear and dread with it. Maybe it was the screams of Hawthornmist, panicked and filled with grief. He was calling for-
He shot to his paws, stumbling over them as he raced out into the clearing.
No. No nonoononono He felt far away, like his spirit had left his body and was watching this scene play out from Starclan. This... couldn't be real right? A disgustingly familiar sight greeted the tom as he entered the clearing. The stench of blood was overwhelming now, practically spilling from the body that lay there. Stars no. His golden eyes teared up instantly at the lifeless body of Brightpaw. The sweet young apprentice Bumblestep had grown so fond of. His once bright and curious blue eyes were now frozen, looking forward at some unknown fear. His clean black pelt was soaked with red, limbs sprawled out at an unnatural angle around him.
Why?! He wanted to wail, paws frozen as he stared at the scene before him. Why would you do this again? How could you take another innocent life again!? Why would you let Iriskit see him this way?!
His soul slammed back into his body at the thought of the young kit seeing this. She was too young, too innocent. She shouldn't have to know of the horrors of life this early. Especially not when her brother was the one lying there. Finally his paws began to move again, slow and shaky, but it was better than nothing. Once he reached the kit, a large paw scooped her into his side, sheltering her from the intrusive sights and scents.
What could he possibly say to comfort her? Its going to be ok? It wasn't. This would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life, the smell of blood would forever make her sick. There was no "fixing" this. All he could do now was get her out of here.
"Hawthornmist." He called, voice shaking. "I..." He sucked in a breath. Stars this wouldn't even be the worst part... "I need you to take her to the nursery. I-I have to go find S-Stormtalon." Gently he picked the crying kit up by her scruff and passed her off to the warrior.
Mind on complete autopilot, he let his paws guide him towards Stormtalon. Even now, a period of tension and silence, Bumblestep's heart seemed to know exactly where to look.
With wide, watery eyes and a broken heart, he looked into those sad green eyes he had come to know so well. What could he say? What could anyone possibly say in this situation? He looked like a fish standing there with his mouth hung open, unable to speak. Nothing but a whimper came from him. [B]"Storm." He finally sniffled. "Something happened."
He'd been gearing up for patrol. Routine really, nothing out of RiverClan's paranoid ordinary, just...Smallpines again. For the umpteenth time. His friend's arrival was a welcome distraction. A greeting rose to the tip of Stormtalon’s tongue when he heard those pawprints, the sound unmistakable now that he memorized the rhythm of them - when had he done that? Curious.
But when the tabby looked over his shoulder to deliver it? Words withered. Turned to ash on his tongue. Ice-cold claws of dread dragged down his spine when he took in the broken expression on Bumblestep’s face, anguish most vivid in those drowning golden eyes, which up till now had been a source of warmth. Now they brought lingering dissonance. A kiss of foreboding that stacked tension on tension, promising some inevitable climax.
Familiarity - why did it stand out to him? The name Bumblestep used was something they never fleshed out, but in a moment of apparent deep distress it was the one that slipped, and therefore...achingly genuine. It made his fur prickle with unease.
Storm. Something happened.
Logic insisted Bumblestep wouldn’t fabricate or embellish. He wouldn’t dream of crying wolf for the thrill of attention it got him, felt one second and gone the next; it was too out of character. No, something had to have gone very, very wrong.
The instant surge of protectiveness surprised Storm. It was stronger than he would have predicted. Whatever caused Bumblestep to walk up and say Stormtalon’s name in that soft, whimpering tone, to weep like that, well. It wasn't allowed. Simple: whatever it was would pay.
Grey fur flowed with the movement of his body, hard earth beneath the warrior’s pads reminding him he wasn’t just made from a palace of thoughts as he stopped a few mouse-lengths from Bumblestep. He mentally checked off the boxes; no visible injuries or signs of physical wear. Just…that harrowing look. Stormtalon surrendered to the calm of a problem solver under pressure, entered that deep, strange place of static and numbness which helped him survive all his life.
“Tell me,” Stormtalon murmured. Voice resembling the quiet before fatal strikes of a snake.
(He couldn’t have known those tears were for him.)
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Hiatus
-
Full hiatus except for a couple threads I hope to finish up, ily all <3
It's time to leave this home & go on your own
