Windy Hills

[gs29513]

A woosh of air hit the flame, and seemed only to feed them. Deadmoon was pretty sure that this wasn't particularly healthy to be breathing in, and hacked quite dramatically. Warmsun had joined her across the trench, and all of the other cats were doing their best to spray dirt at the fire, but it was getting a lot harder to fight the flames when she kept having to pause and cough. She was doubling over a bit, snorting and blowing air out of her nose as hard as she could, and just trying to get the smoke out of her lungs.

At least the fire was backing up, retreating beneath the hail of dirt. Deadmoon shook herself, flinging some bits of water onto the dirt around her. Maybe it was time for the moss? Yes, it might be a good time to start throwing water at the fire, seeing as it was pretty decreased in size. Crossing back over the trench she picked up the moss she had left behind, carrying it a bit awkwardly towards the fire. Shoot, the soil was quite hot. That was not too delightful, and Deadmoon effected a strange sort of prance as she was urged to remove each paw from the ground as soon as possible.

She scuffled a bit more dirt over the edge of the retreating blaze, and then sort of.....squeezed the moss and shook her head. Droplets of water were sent flying in a relatively wide arc, sizzling and becoming vapor as they impacted the heat. Unfortunately this also made the smoke more insidious, and Deadmoon shook her head once more before retreating. Cough cough cough. Sneeze sneeze sneeze. Cough again. Then she sort of.....hucked the moss into the edge of the flames, hastening to throw a bit more dirt on the area around it lest the flames return. Another retreat to hack, and she was back to throwing dirt at the flames. @ChaosBringer. @Spooky Rain Frog @Lightningpaw666 @Rowan @Neptune.

[Neptune.]

Lichenpaw
~<>~
18 moons || she/her || WindClan apprentice || honed skill [INACTIVE]
scrawny calico with one blind eye; blue eyes

The fire is getting smaller - it looks like it, at least - but the smoke isn't getting the hint, and it hurdles higher into the air, into their faces, and makes Lichenpaw's throat feel like it's closing and her eyes water. She coughs, tearing in her throat, but she continues her task with gravity, still kicking dirt and tossing some of her soaked moss onto the flame.

[ @gs29513 @Spooky Rain Frog @Rowan @Aroogi @ChaosBringer. @Lightningpaw666 ]

[Dark]

Firestorm

Ultimate Predator: Active| Burn Baby Burn | Monkey’s Paw
___________

It looked like Somethingblind wasn’t going to be joining here (sad face) for their patrol. How was she supposed to show off her wonderful hunting skills without someone to witness it in action?? Oh well! That just meant that she could surprise Captain Crowy with a HUGE haul. Mhmm mhmm, yupp, this was going to be wonderful! (Spoiler: it was not)

After lingering just a little while longer, Firestorm took it upon herself to leave camp alone. After all, she was the patrol leader, and as such it was her duty to ensure the patrol’s completion. Crowy’s faith in her amazing leadership and hunting skills would definitely not go to waste.

Head held high in the air, Firestorm marched her way to the Windy Hills. Or, that was her plan before a flash of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Oho!? Was that prey she spotted? Attention no longer on Windy Hills, she pivoted and dashed after the small creature. It was no match for her, she was the ultimate predator after all. She caught it with a quickness that would make even the fastest of her WindClan ancestors proud, before delivering a bite to the back of its neck. Once the life of her prey had been snuffed out, she was finally able to inspect the creature she had caught. It was a vole. Oh! Oh! Oh! Lightningstorm would love this. Perhaps she should bring it to her after the hunt was over with.

Keeping that in mind, the orange queen collected the small vole’s body and dug a small hole, and deposited it there to collect later. She couldn’t very well return with such a small catch! She was the great Firestorm after all, the future leader of WindClan, etc etc etc… To put it simply, she had to lead by example. The vole would contribute very little when it came to feeding the clan (or replacing what Littlekit SMUSHED), so she definitely needed to return with more. Plus, she also had to show Crowtooth (and those stars damned dead cats) that she was clearly the most competent hunter ever.

March, march, march.

She kept on walking along with all the confidence in the world. Oh Icarus, how high will you go before realizing you’re too close to the sun? Many a time, Firestorm was told her confidence would be the end of her, and she took it to heart when it had almost prevented her revival. Well… she no longer cared and went right on back to strutting about as if she owned everything for the sole reason that she knew she was the best at everything she put her mind to. Why should she remain sad all the time? Yes, Lightningstorm’s memories were gone, but her (former?) mate was soooo much happier. Not only that, but their kits were growing up big and strong! They were a pawful, yes, but their safety is what mattered most to her.

Riding upon her high horse (metaphorically of course!), she didn’t notice the many sets of eyes upon her, nor the flapping of wings until it was too late. A loud caw sounded overhead, followed by whoosh[ of air went past her ear before she felt a sharp pain at the top of her head. ”What the–?” She began, looking up in surprise. Well, it seemed that StarClan was not impressed by her hubris because she was met with the sight of the largest murder of crows she had ever seen in her life. Like for real. Firestorm wasn’t particularly great at counting, but there had to have been at least twenty of the birds flapping toward her. ”Oh, I’m in trouble, innit?” She spoke in a small voice.

She wasn’t quite sure what it was about birds, but for some reason, they all hated her. She’d been attacked by a hawk before – which led to Pignut’s death, and then she fought with a large crow previously in order to stock the prey pile. This though? This was a whole different level. This was premeditated violence of an unholy degree.

”Help meeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!” The small tabby cried out, turning and attempting to run from the birds from the deepest depths of the dark forest. This was unfair. If it was one on one, she could handle it, maybe two, but TWENTY PLUS!? What kind of sick joke was this!?

Try as she might, she wasn’t able to get far before she was swarmed. Sharp beaks and claws aimed for her eyes, her nose, her ears, her back and tail, her legs, EVERYWHERE. This was unbelievably frustrating, but she couldn’t just take this lying down – she was the future leader of the clan after all. Yowling indignantly, she began raining front paw blows upon the mob. Some of her hits connected, many missed, but she wasn’t going to simply not fight back. ”RAAAAGHHH CROWTOOOOOTTTHHHH!” She howled angrily.

Eventually, the dark swarm of death subsided, and there Firestorm stood, sides heaving and surrounded (and covered) by a plethora of dark feathers and fluff. Three of the birds lay dead nearby, having been smacked to death by her own paws. She had a few small scrapes and scratches that were bleeding a little bit, but outside of that, she managed to escape relatively unharmed. Her eyes remained in place, her nose and tongue hadn’t been torn, she hadn’t been battered to death by the onslaught of wings (though it certainly felt like it!), she was alive.

”Damned birds hadta mess wit’ me, huh? Had a grand ol’ time harassin’ lil ole Firestorm, innit? Filthy beasts, I oughta skin em alive and feed em to my kits. ‘tupid, dumbass, vile birds. I hope their mothers die midflight and get eaten by the maggots they share their nasty food with–” She muttered as she collected the corpses of her victims. This was the most obscene language she had ever used in her life (note: blame Lightningstorm’s potty mouth) and it just kept coming. She was pissed.

After collecting her prey and throwing it across her back, she headed back to her vole was and then made her way back to camp in an uncharacteristically bad mood.

+1 vole +3 crows

[ heheheehe ]

[ChaosBringer.]

Whisperinghive
A 12-16 moon old tom with marigold-orange fur, dull green eyes, and a thin scar running from below his left eye down his muzzle to his nose.
Purrks: Killer Aptitude T1 [ACTIVE] Survival Instincts[ACTIVE] Just a Scratch [ACTIVE]



Whisperinghive cried out in relief as he saw their progress on the fire, before that cry of joy was turned into a cry of pain as a giant gust of wind drew the fire to what he guessed was a some leaves or something as thick smoke blew directly into his face. "STARSDAMMIT!" He swore loudly in pain, jumping backwards and pawing at his cheeks and eyes. Whisperinghive's eyes stung horribly as they watered, his body trembling for a moment as he tried calming himself. They had been doing so well with the fire! Why did that stupid gust of wind have to ruin it?! The warrior murmered out some curses before wiping the water from his eyes, his dull green eyes fixed on the fire before him. He hissed at it,(like that'd do anything) before tossing a pawful of dirt at it and kicking more dirt at its base.

@gs29513 @Spooky Rain Frog @Rowan @Aroogi
@Lightningpaw666 @Neptune.

[Lightningpaw666]

Lightningpaw- He/Him, 12 moons old, No Purrks, Windclan Apprentice.

Lightningpaw had finished his trench duty despite the smoke making his job all the more harder and the small lithe orange tabby would hop over to help the other cats working. Lightningpaw didn't know what to say to the other cats so instead he just continued working diligently as he began doing what he saw the other cats doing putting dirt over the fire to try and smother it. Lightningpaw guessed everything needed to breath huh? @gs29513 @Spooky Rain Frog @Rowan @Aroogi @Neptune. @ChaosBringer.

[gs29513]

(OK, time to wrap this up! No one died!) @ChaosBringer. @Spooky Rain Frog @Lightningpaw666 @Rowan @Neptune.
Finally, the flames were being beaten into submission. The smoke had slowed the progress, true, but the determination of cats protecting their home, their clan, their family, had won. Dirt and wet moss rained down upon the shrinking blaze, until at last naught was left but still-smoking coals and ash. Deadmoon was panting, her lack of running clearly having weakened her lungs somewhat, but the fire was dead or dying. She couldn't really tell, with all the smoke and whatnot, but there were no more tongues of flame licking at the sky.

Pausing, Deadmoon retreated back across the no-longer-needed trench to collect the still damp (the heat had taken it firmly out of the soaked wet category) moss which remained from her load from the falls. Approaching what had been the center of the fire gingerly, she batted at the smoke as if with her paws to clear it. This was highly ineffectual. Fortunately, there were no small fires ready to spring to life and consumer her. Hot cinder did occasionally reach her feet, causing her to hiss in pain before she moved her paws, but otherwise she made it to the center of their circle unimpeded.

Something was still smoldering, or at least smoking, and she wrung whatever she could out of the moss onto it. It spluttered and hissed, but seemed to quiet down quickly enough. Good. I think it's dead. she called to the other warriors (and apprentices who'd put in a warriors shift), before coughing dramatically. If you've got wet moss, come squeeze it out in here, near the center. Just to make sure. she added. They might not have any, some had certainly been thrown at the odious smoke, but if it was available they might as well make sure the dirt over where the fire had been was dampened, to fully kill the heat.

Pawing a bit more dirt onto the ground that felt the hottest (wincing slightly as she did so, but her paws were no great loss, she couldn't run anyway), Deadmoon retreated as the smoke began to clear. Finally! She coughed again. She'd probably be doing that for a while, driving the rest of the warriors den mad all the while. If you've used all the moss, we can head back. the new fury (stars above, she still couldn't believe she was a fury leading patrols to fight starscursed fires) decided. Rather belatedly, she realized she probably ought to say something nice. Pleasant words weren't her strong suit, but everyone had done some hard, dangerous work. Good job, everyone. That could have been......a much bigger problem. And now it's.....not. Very eloquent Deadmoon, we're all VERY impressed. Totally. It was as good as could be hoped for from her and Deadmoon was nothing if not a bit too aware of her deficiencies, and so made no attempt to improve upon this little performance. Instead she started the walk back to camp, leaving the moss on the edge of the trench. Stars above, she was tired. And needed to cough some more.

[Rowan]

♡DuckFeather♡
Female | 20 Moons | Posts: 11
an off-white she-cat with different shades of gray spots and bright yellow eyes
Purrks: None
Interaction For: @gs29513 @ChaosBringer. @Lightningpaw666 @Spooky Rain Frog @Neptune.


Thankfully the fire had been burning down the more effort they put into fighting it. She was just about to collapse and her lungs felt tight and smoky. From the increasingly warmer ground her paw pads burned and blistered. Couldn’t the suffering just stop? Slowly it did. By time there was no more flame she took a few steps away from the area, seeking fresh air. Her legs buckled under her and she coughed and wheezed, watery tears from results of the smoke dropped on the ground.