| Lightningstorm |
Flock Together [Tier 3] - Inactive
Lightningstorm wasn't certain what answer she wanted to hear. To see. Because reason and logic dictated that this had gone too far. That he had been far too neglectful. Her heart continued clawing away at any rational thought, however, the mere notion of the cat she loved - the only family she had left in this stars forsaken place - making such an atrocious mistake... and allowing not just herself, but Firestorm as well to partake in this without a heads up. Without some sign. Without trust for her.
Why? Oh why had it been tansy? She had seen it before. The poison. Seeped into rotten plants that she quickly tossed. Removed from the stores. Not out of knowledge that they were poisoned, but because they weren't right. She was a perfectionist. Detail oriented to a fault. If a herb was not perfect... if it had any sort of defect... a strange odor, a blemish... anything at all, it was not safe. Stars knew what cross contamination could do. But the tansy. The bloody tansy. Why? If he had known what this herb was, if they had the herb in storage, why had he not shown it to her prior to the check-ups? Before she was assumed to use it. To be unable to recognize that it was wrong. To blindly trust the black and white tom because he had never led her wrong before, so there was no reason to start doubting now.
Cowtuft seemed to be at a loss for words, and all she received was a head shake. Another one. And another again. A silent, potentially meaningless gesture for anyone else, but one that Lightningstorm understood to be dripping with regret for his actions. With assurance for hers. And yet all the lithe calico could feel was her heart break. She thought there was nothing left to break. But it seemed she was wrong. The last hope she had been clinging to was gone. Bashed and bruised on the rocks littering the hole left behind for her tarnished dreams to fall on through. Reality was setting in, ugly and vicious, bringing back words she had spoken just yesterday to the gentle tom. Such a pity, when even your hopes and dreams get dashed by a healthy does of unrealistic reality. They had laughed then, her words a mere overdramatization of her hatred for the cold, but no one would be laughing today.
Twilightstar's verdict was made, and the young healer felt her large ears flatten against her skull. Exile. To not even be allowed to die with the honor of being a cat of WindClan. A cat for the clan he had given his entire being to. Instead he was to be tossed like rubbish from the prey pile. To die outside, miserable, empty, slowly, and alone. With not even the stars to turn to... although perhaps that wasn't as terrible as it sounded. The stars most certainly did not give a rat's arse about them, after all. And judging by Littleshock's words, the clan gave about as little thought about them.
Lightning flashed dangerously in Lightningstorm's almond shaped eyes as she turned to glare at the worthless warrior who had dared mock this tragedy with something as vile and disgusting as turning this into a game. Hunting prey was not a game. Killing cats was not a game. Or was it? Was that all it was? A game? Was the taking of life nothing more than an enjoyable pastime for the warriors of the clans? She still remembered the falling body of her clanmate as that one RiverClan warrior dared to spout out nonsense after nonsense. Claiming to have killed an unsuspecting cat in a single blow in the name of StarClan. It explained a lot. Like why StarClan had failed to warn them. Had warned ThunderClan instead. The star cladded rats liked their warriors as stained in red as the Dark Forest foxhearts did. And the warriors of the clan were little better it seemed.
Twistedpaw and Lichenpaw were quick to get in the way. The only ones to seem to care about the healer's life aside of the wailing warrior at her side. To refuse such an end for the gentle giant even as another worthless, blood lusting arsehole spoke up for the idea. Wanting to make sport of the healer's death. Yet the fact that only those two stepped forward to actively protect him was sign enough of where the heart of the clan really was. Of what it was like. Happiest when drenched in blood.
Even as a kit Lightningstorm had wondered why a medicine cat was doomed to sleep away from the clan. The leader as well. In time she had understood that the leader needed to be clear. Level headed. Away from the noise and see the bigger picture. But a medicine cat was meant to be personal. Understand every cat in the clan. Instead they lived alone. Slept in their own den. Their own separated, herbal prison. Usually with no company except for the dying or those who were to injured to accompany the rest. To join the rest of the clan proper until they were better themselves, only to leave the medicine cat to their own devices again. It made no sense. That only served to isolate the healers, did it not? To make them feel... separate from the clan, not a part of it. She assumed she was just being cynical. After all, Cowtuft had always been a welcomed, cherished member of the clan... until now.
They had all turned on him too quick. Too eagerly. Wanted to make a spectacle of his death. Because that was the truth of the medicine cat. That was all they were. The scapegoat. The one to blame all the failings of the clan on. Was that her future? Her fate? To one night be dragged out of her den by angry cats demanding to know why that cat, the one that had arrived to her den dying of infected wounds or illness was not in perfect health? Demanding her life for the life of a cat who was doomed from the start simply because it was easier to kill the one that lived away from them all, to make a game out of the life of the one who tried to do nothing but keep the clan healthy once the real clan decided their time was up than to accept the fact that not every death had accountability? A part of her understood this was not the same case, but in her mind it was what made sense. The spotted lass had always known it would be a swarm of rats that would be the end of her, she just thought they would come in a different shape and size than them.
Suspicion and hatred flowed through her. Hatred at StarClan, for once again waiting for the bodies to amass before she was given any confirmation of what was wrong. Disgust for a clan that had evidently known about herbs that not even their medicine cat had been aware of but had decided to remain quiet about it until they could sing their own praises, pat each other's back once they had all simultaneously put the pieces together. After Bumblestar had claimed it was poison, suddenly everyone was a bloody herb expert. A herb expert that had decided to remain quiet until it suddenly merited their attention. Worthless. The lot of them. And to think these would be the cats executing or exiling her soon. After all, there would be no herbs in storage. Everything needed to be thrown away. And with the herb shortage caused by the wars they had provoked, the battles and deaths they had caused - but had of course been heroically lauded for, because who it was that died mattered, not the death itself - it was only a matter of time before their thirst of violence became ravenous once more. Before they wanted to make another game of a medicine cat's replaceable existence.
Realization dawned in the she-cat's face as she blinked, the storm leaving her gaze for a moment. The eye of the storm catching up to her mind as she wondered... was this what she was staying for? For cats who would gladly kill her? Who would toss her to the side into her now guarded prison until they bored of her and used her for more entertainment? It was a fact that Cowtuft would not make it through leafbare. Not in her mind, in any case. He was too clumsy. Too naive. Too kind and benevolent. Even in her anger at him - because even with the love that refused to die, there was a healthy amount of rage and disappointment, make no mistake of that - she had to wonder if perhaps... perhaps StarClan's silence until last night had been a sign. A sign that these murderous monsters were forsaken. That they were not the biggest source of entertainment, and as such, they did not care for even the healers of the clan. For the cats they themselves had chosen.
And if they didn't care, why should she? She could leave. Go with him. At least safekeep a cat who would not kill her at the first chance he could get. Would not dance in the puddle of blood left in the wake of her undoing. Who would care? Who had she left in this place if he was gone? No one. The solitude of a healer's life had ensured as much. But for that... she would need to follow the escort, or be a part of it. Would that even be allowed? Would these cats who would soon long for her own demise even care that she wanted to accompany her last remaining family out towards his own slow suffered doom? Probably not... but if all of these cats who cared not a sliver of a mouse's whisker could pretend like they wanted to go with the tom for a reason other than to kill him as soon as he reached the final border - she was on to the murderers - surely it wouldn't be out of place for herself to ask.
"I- I wish to go as well, Twilightstar. Say goodbye... one last time," she mewed, her words coated in their usual technical honesty; it would be a final farewell, after all... one way or another.
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ
✰ azaleadrizzle ✰
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she/they ✰ wc ✰ 43 moons ✰ tags ; open
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ .
!! this character often deals with themes of abuse, depression, and sensory disorders . interact with caution !!
trigger warnings for this post: sensory overload, internalised ableism
with the announcement, bile rose in azaleadrizzle's throat. she didn't know the situation, didn't know the dead cats or cowtuft, but an exile was nothing less than cruel. she exhaled heavily, scrambling to her paws to try to get away from the situation, the overload of emotions she was feeling and the cats screaming around her - it was too much.
sinking to her paws, she bit back tears and folded her ears back, stomach roiling in fear. stars, she hated feeling like this- why couldn't she be normal- why couldn't the clans be normal?! what was going on- why was cowtuft- azalea couldn't do this. with terror in her eyes, she buried her head in her curled paws and started sobbing imperceptibly.
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cobwebfern is riverclan’s medicine cat apprentice !
she and berryshine have a semi-closed den policy .
Crowtooth exploded, exhaustion burned out like a flash fire and the tom that roaring beast that was generally reserved for shadowclan.
"WHAT THE HELL 'S WRONG WIT' YOU?!!"
He was blocking Fleckstorm and Littleshock from Cow in a flash, attempting to use his large body as a wall to both hide and protect the tom from them. The tom was certain he was going to puke now, it was just a matter of suppressing it until he was out of the camp and away from clan view now. Warriors were supposed to be the strength of the clan after all, weakness was not acceptable in this time.
"ARE WE ACCEPTING SHADOWCLAN CURS NOW?! ARE YER HEARTS FULL O' FOXDUNG?! ARE YER BRAINS?! 'M SICKENED BY THE IDEA THAT WE LET CATS LIKE YA IN THE CAMP, MUCH LESS CLAN!"
Spittle flew off of the warriors fangs wildly as he roared a guttural broken yell, lip curling at the two.
"Yer disgustin' all o' ya! I know seven death 's horrid, a number unlike we've seen but for those that think this was intentional by Cowtuft an' not somethin' deeper 'm startin' ta think yall were born wit'out a brain!" It was scorn, pure and simple as a skunk striped tail lashed.
"How many lives has he saved?!" The question was a demand. "'OW MANY LIVES HAS COWTUFT SAVED?! 'OW MANY OF US OWE OUR LIVES TA HIM?! SEVEN 'S HORRID AN' PUNISHMENT UNAVOIDABLE BUT 'S AN ANT TA THE MOUTAIN O' LIVES WE OWE TA HIM!!" How could they forget this now, how shallow were these cats memories and hearts. "Yer disgustin' ta suggest treatin' a cat, any cat like prey and I am ashamed ta see you as windclan fer even suggestin' 't. Pathetic ta act 'n vengence as ya obviously are an' not 'n justice as better cats are forced ta right now, but downright worthless as a warrior to be stupid enough ta not USE YER DAMN BRAIN!"
The spittle frothed as Crowtooth coughed, trying to get the air his gravelly howled words robbed him off, back heaving with the effort. It created a horrible raspy wheezing sound with every inhale that deafened him to the pounding of his heart in his ears, but he continued.
"First ya don' even consider the why! Why after so many years o' sacrifice, service, an' love would he want ta kill us?! There 's no reason anyone could ever come up wit' that'd ever make sense! Cowtuft had and lost everythin' over this mistake, why make 't intentionally?!
He wouldnt, 'ts not 'n his self, nature, or personality an' anyone with a brain knows this. This was negligence an' not intentional an' 'f we're straight inhumanely killin' cats for honest mistakes an' not considering circumstance THEN TAKE HALF THE DAMN CLAN WHILE YA DO!!"
Twilightstar, Fallownose, Wolffang, Bravebird, himself, hell even damned Scorchedfang had deaths that could be blamed on them! And thats just the cats Crowtooth knew off of the top of his head! This punishment came because of the amount but to go so far for this mistake would create a slippery slope that Crowtooth couldnt see anyone escaping from.
"Second yall are stupid ta think that 'f Cowtuft wanted ta kill us we'd ever know. 't took us this long and we only got here because 't wasnt really hidden, 'f Cowtuft was intentionally hidin' 't instead we'd all drop before we found out."
Which was a horrifying thought but true.
"Finally anyone who thinks Cowtuft will turn on us didn' listen to a damn thing he said or how he's acted. Bravebird is right." And it broke the toms heart. "This 's the worst punishment we could ever do ta him an' yall should all see that and feel for 't 'f ya have any heart. Your suggestion isnt even effective 'f thats what you want. Its just monstrous and stupid. Thoughts like that are just not fit for Windclan you curs." And god did Crowtooth want to scar them for even considering it.
Screw all of this. Honestly. Crowtooth was scooping up Lighteningstorm (whom he slightly shifted to shelter as well) and maybe Firestorm and they were making sure Cowtuft would be as safe as possible as far as possible. He'd point the ex medicine cat to the twoleg place and pass on the rumors he'd heard of that place. If Cowtuft was taken in as a kittypet like the house cats said happened he'd be safe through winter and could decide were to go from there at least. Crowtooth could even catch a rabbit outside the borders for him to eat before them, he could at least try and give the spotted tom hope.
Crowtooth would obey Twilightstars and Windclans dictation as loyally as he could and not sacrifice his honor. Windclan would need that if cats like Littleshock and Fleckstorm remained in the clan.
@Poprock @dino.(not mentioning people talked about Im sure your stalking this thread)
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Crowtooth is Deputy of Windclan, If he's needed mention me at any time~
Have a kittypet/outsider who needs healing? Vm me!
Here she was, finally, back in WindClan, her home and... Perpetually injured and unable to do anything. Honestly, if she could give those dishonourable ShadowClanners a piece of her mind right now - oh - they'd be running for the hlls! Silverpaw, despite her calm demeanour, was fuming. How was she meant to ever earn her warrior name when she was unable to train? Honestly, the situation left her quite sour.
Though, perhaps, some of the moodiness came from the lack of familiarity the clan brought to her now. Born and raised in the... Ah, the old camp and old territory and... Admittedly, alongside the old (ever so neglectful) clanmates, Silverpaw found herself secretly feeling rather misplaced and a little lost. She hardly knew where which den was, except for the medicine cat's den, as for recognising anyone? Well, save from Twilightstar, there was no one. Not that she cared. Not that she had any friends before - which she truly had never had. And most certainly not that she hoped her former mentor or even her parents or siblings to be there. Weaselskip had abandoned her, just like her other mentors, just like her family.
Turning around with a disdained look at the displeasing memory of those who betrayed her, the silver apprentice's light blue gaze finally fell on... A familiar figure? Any disdain in her expression disappeared at once, replaced by hopeful surprise. She wouldn't dare think it; stars, she'd never even spoken to the tom! And yet, he was the most familiar-looking thing here, and she always did intend on asking him about the tunnels... Would've if it hadn't been for Dawnstar.
Before she knew what she was doing, Silverpaw rushed towards the seemingly unsuspecting warrior with a more hurried pace than she had taken on in days, eyes wide. While she did not yet throw her paws around the tom, the apprentice most certainly nearly ran into him as she skidded to a halt with arguably the brightest smile and most relieved tone of voice she'd had in literal moons. "Crowtooth? Is it you, is it truly you? Oh, I am so happy to see you!"
Her mouth ran rampant before she thought better of it, practically forgetting all about personal space as she quite literally craned her had to try and get a good look at his face, probably a bit too close up... Until her own words dawned on her, and a wave of embarrassment took over. Stars, how childish of her. What would her mother say? Suddenly self-conscious and taken aback by her own actions, Silverpaw stepped back, voice turning more apologetic. "Ah- Excuse my behaviour, I don't know what came over me."
They never even spoke before! She cleared her throat, proceeding with a level tone. "I'm Silverpaw. Though perhaps you may remember me as Hailpaw... Or not, we weren't exactly acquaintanced. But you are Crowtooth, yes?"
Frankly, now that she got a good look at him, he appeared... Well, worn, to say the least. Less alive than how she remembered him; be it a trick of the mind or truth, she could only presume he too endured quite a bit over the moons she'd been gone. "Do you still work with the tunnels? And... If I may, whatever happened to you?"
Normally the apprentice would be as curt yet polite as she could, keeping idle conversation short and sweet. But perhaps it was the familiarity that Crowtooth held which made her so loose-lipped today.
Holy cow that was a lotta words from a cat very close and very suddenly. The tom was recoiled a bit, tripping over his own tail and having to re orientate himself as he coughed briefly the shock stuttering his breathing. If his eyes were open they'd be wide eyed but as they werent the toms ears simply rotated around trying to absorb information from the apprentice as his brain played catch up.
Hail hail.... Vaguely the tom remembered the blurry silver form of a cat he semi taught, brow furrowing as he tried to think of more details and came up blank. Though she didnt need to know about the lack of details thing.
Once the flood of words ended the tom rasped.
"Ah, ya 'ts me, heya. I think I remember a Hailpaw a bit. Don' mind the behavior, 'ts a bit surprisin' but 'm fine wit' 't."
The tom shifted awkwardly rubbing his head as he kept his eyes closed against the sun. "Noticed the eye am' skinny thin' didja?" Not surprising, Crowtooth had always been big so the fact that he was a bit underfed even for Windclan was stark. At least he was putting on weight fast now that he was back. "Well I do still work wit' the tunnels but 't got me 'n some trouble some time back. There was a cave 'n or somethin', can' remember well, an' 't got me real good." Crowtooth tapped the starburst scar dead on the crest of his head and felt the divot where his skull was dented underneath. "Spent a long few seasons, uh Twi knows the exact time I think, down there as some sorta.... Cave.... Creature..." No good way to describe the state he lived in really, and he didnt wanna dwell on it. "Was found recently, still recoverin'. 'm fine though, gainin' weight an' adjustin' ta the sun, gonna head back down as soon as 'm cleared."
Oddly enough he held no fear to the place that'd brought him so much pain, only eagerness to be back where he belonged and providing for his clan.
His head tilted, blindly looking down at the apprentice and breathed in a few wheezy breaths before he hesitantly asked "What about ya? I don' remember much right before the accident but ya should be a warrior right? Went missin' too I gather? Doin' alright?"
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Crowtooth is Deputy of Windclan, If he's needed mention me at any time~
Have a kittypet/outsider who needs healing? Vm me!
Most cats called for Cowtuft's exile or execution, which began to make Curlypaw re-think his decision. If all of these warriors, much more experienced and well-versed in life than he, thought that Cowtuft no longer deserved a place in WindClan, then perhaps he was wrong to think the medicine cat deserved a second chance.
Still, he wanted to see the good in Cowtuft. It seemed like a lot of his Clanmates were forgetting that, especially the ones calling so quickly for his death. It surprised Curlypaw to hear Fallownose in particular so vindictively proclaim a desire for Cowtuft's execution. Could high ranks really turn on one another so quickly like that?
Yes, Cowtuft had made a terrible mistake. But guilt seemed like a pretty harsh punishment, and it was one he'd have to endure for the rest of his life. Acting careless with deathberries shouldn't override everything good that Cowtuft had done for their Clan. Curlypaw opened his mouth, wanting to yell that they were all being too harsh, that one mistake shouldn't sentence a cat to exile or death. But he couldn't find his voice. The confidence he'd had just a short time before was gone.
Not long after, Twilightstar made her decision. Exile. Curlypaw's tail drooped to the ground, his heart sinking. So that was it. If the leader thought that Cowtuft deserved exile, then there would be no changing anyone's mind.
Sad eyes watched as Cowtuft maneuvered towards the exit. Curlypaw kept a steady gaze on him, feeling so much pain for a cat who was losing everything. Where would he go? Would he even be able to survive, out there with predators and enemy Clan cats?
The young apprentice's attention was stolen away as some cats began calling for a hunt on Cowtuft. Disbelief snapped through Curlypaw like electricity; how in the stars could anyone want to hunt another cat down? His stomach began to churn, and nausea began to creep up his throat. Calling for a cat's execution was one thing; showing glee at the idea of hunting them down was another. Fleckstorm and Littleshock. He'd remember to avoid them at all costs.
The desire to get away from all of this, to go somewhere safe, began to wash over him like the river. The problem was, the camp was supposed to be that safe place. Now, it seemed almost as bad as anywhere else. Poisoned herbs, cats who enjoyed the idea of killing for sport, recklessness by those who the Clan was supposed to trust... how could any cat feel safe anywhere?
He slunk back until his back was nestled into the camp wall. Although it prickled his skin, there was something at least a little comforting about having his back protected.
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Fadingstar is currently RiverClan's leader. He has an open den policy; his den can be found here. If you have any questions or concerns about RiverClan, or any plots to propose, feel free to leave me a VM or DM! Please do not take my characters' IC opinions as reflective of my own.
Littleshock
Warrior || She/her || 18 Moons || Purrks: none
Holy moly! You'd think it was Littleshock who poisoned seven cats with all the screaming her suggestion had caused. Fleckstorm seemed to be the only other rational one here... as usual. She offered them a toothy grin of approval before turning to deal with... all this.
First was Softsong. Her sharp tongue was always something Littleshock enjoyed; watching the warrior lay down the law at meetings was always something the at the time apprentice looked forward to. She never thought she would say something so horrible to be on the receiving end. Ya know, something horrible like: "Murderers are bad". Old age must be catchin' up to her. Poor thing. "I'm not after anything but justice, yeesh! Calm your raging emotions and think about what I said instead of snappin' at me like some kit." Still, she fought to seem unwavering, but inside she wanted to wilt like a flower in the shadows. That was not fun, and unfortunately it was only the start of a barrage of anger she had unintentionally caused.
Lichenpaw and Twistedpaw spoke up next, and immediately the tabby wished they would both just hush. Two whiny apprentice's squeaking up for a murderer was worse than one, and the warrior feared her head would explode if she listened to them for another second. "I never said for sport birdbrains. If you were listening with your ears instead of your hearts, you'd hear me say I want to hunt 'em down to keep cats like you safe! Starclan forbid we actually do something about our problems instead of just pushin' 'em outta sight. Memories of a rogue group who were allowed to camp in their territory flashed in her mind. Hadn't they been the same ones to corner Windclan in the tunnels? Guess these two were too young to remember.
Wolffang and Crowtooth snapped at her last. The former was more classy about it; spouting the typical "honor" and "clan code blah blah blah" one would expect from a former deputy. Words warriors like to use when one of their own needlessly died. Her pink nose wrinkled at the words, but she said nothing. She didn't agree with his approach, but couldn't help but still respect him. Even now he seemed like a standup guy. Littleshock offered him a small nod of acknowledgement before finally turning to the final cat to curse her for an innocent opinion. Crowtooth.
"I don't really care why he did it. What matters is he did. I don't care how many he's saved before, blood will forever stain his paws. Seven are dead. Where's your rage for them old man? Did you speak up when Peachfrost was exiled? No! She did good for the clan but when she stepped outta line and was exiled, that was fine. What's changed now? You spit and curse at me for wanting a monster dead yet when you return to camp to find another victim, Cow gets honeyed words and a slap on the paw from ya? I can't make sense of it." A white paw reached up to wipe off a splatter of spittle from Crowtooth. Gross. "I may be heartless, but at least I'm not blinded my emotion like you."
She had to get outta here. Too many eyes filled with hatred were glaring her way, too much dissapproval for one gal to handle. "I'm outta here, I'll let y'all mourn the loss of a monster while I head to mourn his victims." She stood, uncaring if anyone tried to stop her. Her sibling would be the final one she acknowledged, a small tired smile and flick of an orange tail, before striding out of camp.
@dino. @lesbianism @TheNyanCatMinecart @FrostyGalaxy
*-Lichenpaw-* 106/100
she/her || 11moons small and scruffy calico with one blinding eye
There are punishments worse than death, Lichenpaw knows, and to lose your home, your status as not only medicine cat but a clan cat in general is... it's worse than just being killed here and now. Lichenpaw can't even begin to imagine the feeling of isolation, of fear and regret and sorrow and guilt... she feels sick. This can't be happening, Cowtuft (she'd refuse to call him anything else. He is and always has been 'Cowtuft' to her. Simple as that.) isn't about to lose his home and his friends over a mistake. A mistake that could've been easily prevented, yes, should have been easily prevented, but a mistake nonetheless.
And then... and then cats start talking about hunting him. For sport. For nothing but the thrill of the chase, for fun, for the arrogant pride of wanting to know they are the only cats who have truly vanquished a great evil, a big threat. They're only looking for glory. For retribution. It's revolting. Lichenpaw can hardly stand knowing these cats belong to her own clan. It's vile.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU?!" She can't help they way she screams it out, but if she isn't loud about it no one will listen to her, no one will take her seriously if she isn't angry. Hell, she's not sure anyone will take her seriously even when she is angry given how fast they resorted to... stars, she wants to throw up just thinking about it. "IS IT NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU THAT HE'S LOSING HIS HOME? HIS FRIENDS? HIS FAMILY? THAT HE'S LOSING EVERYTHING HE HAS? AND NOW YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING BEYOND DISGUSTING AND HUNT HIM DOWN FOR FUN? FOR PRIDE OR GLORY?" As she speaks she moves to stand next to Twistedpaw, one of the only other cats actually willing to stand against the vile idea so far, and unsheathes her own claws, teeth bared.
If anyone deserves to be killed it's all of them. They're nothing but a bunch of monsters.
"YOU'RE CRUEL FOR THAT!! HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST SUCH A THING? NONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO LAY A SINGLE CLAW ON HIM! HE WAS NEGLIGENT, YES, BUT COWTUFT DOESN'T DESERVE TO LIVE LIKE A HUNTED ANIMAL!! IF YOU'D ACTUALLY DO SUCH A THING AS THAT GO LIVE WITH SHADOWCLAN INSTEAD! IM SURE THEY'D LOVE IDEAS THAT WREAK OF THE DARK FOREST LIKE HUNTING A CAT FOR SPORT!!"
She's panting now from the effort of all that yelling. It's exhausting being this angry but she has to keep going this way. They're not getting past her. She'll form a protective shield around Cowtuft all by herself if she has to. She'll walk with him until he's far away from WindClan, from the batch of traitors who live among them. She'll make sure he's safe all on her own. He won't be hunted. He won't have to live the rest of his life like that. As long as Lichenpaw lives she will not let that happen.
Crowtooth exploded, exhaustion burned out like a flash fire and the tom that roaring beast that was generally reserved for shadowclan.
"WHAT THE HELL 'S WRONG WIT' YOU?!!"
He was blocking Fleckstorm and Littleshock from Cow in a flash, attempting to use his large body as a wall to both hide and protect the tom from them. The tom was certain he was going to puke now, it was just a matter of suppressing it until he was out of the camp and away from clan view now. Warriors were supposed to be the strength of the clan after all, weakness was not acceptable in this time.
"ARE WE ACCEPTING SHADOWCLAN CURS NOW?! ARE YER HEARTS FULL O' FOXDUNG?! ARE YER BRAINS?! 'M SICKENED BY THE IDEA THAT WE LET CATS LIKE YA IN THE CAMP, MUCH LESS CLAN!"
Spittle flew off of the warriors fangs wildly as he roared a guttural broken yell, lip curling at the two.
"Yer disgustin' all o' ya! I know seven death 's horrid, a number unlike we've seen but for those that think this was intentional by Cowtuft an' not somethin' deeper 'm startin' ta think yall were born wit'out a brain!" It was scorn, pure and simple as a skunk striped tail lashed.
"How many lives has he saved?!" The question was a demand. "'OW MANY LIVES HAS COWTUFT SAVED?! 'OW MANY OF US OWE OUR LIVES TA HIM?! SEVEN 'S HORRID AN' PUNISHMENT UNAVOIDABLE BUT 'S AN ANT TA THE MOUTAIN O' LIVES WE OWE TA HIM!!" How could they forget this now, how shallow were these cats memories and hearts. "Yer disgustin' ta suggest treatin' a cat, any cat like prey and I am ashamed ta see you as windclan fer even suggestin' 't. Pathetic ta act 'n vengence as ya obviously are an' not 'n justice as better cats are forced ta right now, but downright worthless as a warrior to be stupid enough ta not USE YER DAMN BRAIN!"
The spittle frothed as Crowtooth coughed, trying to get the air his gravelly howled words robbed him off, back heaving with the effort. It created a horrible raspy wheezing sound with every inhale that deafened him to the pounding of his heart in his ears, but he continued.
"First ya don' even consider the why! Why after so many years o' sacrifice, service, an' love would he want ta kill us?! There 's no reason anyone could ever come up wit' that'd ever make sense! Cowtuft had and lost everythin' over this mistake, why make 't intentionally?!
He wouldnt, 'ts not 'n his self, nature, or personality an' anyone with a brain knows this. This was negligence an' not intentional an' 'f we're straight inhumanely killin' cats for honest mistakes an' not considering circumstance THEN TAKE HALF THE DAMN CLAN WHILE YA DO!!"
Twilightstar, Fallownose, Wolffang, Bravebird, himself, hell even damned Scorchedfang had deaths that could be blamed on them! And thats just the cats Crowtooth knew off of the top of his head! This punishment came because of the amount but to go so far for this mistake would create a slippery slope that Crowtooth couldnt see anyone escaping from.
"Second yall are stupid ta think that 'f Cowtuft wanted ta kill us we'd ever know. 't took us this long and we only got here because 't wasnt really hidden, 'f Cowtuft was intentionally hidin' 't instead we'd all drop before we found out."
Which was a horrifying thought but true.
"Finally anyone who thinks Cowtuft will turn on us didn' listen to a damn thing he said or how he's acted. Bravebird is right." And it broke the toms heart. "This 's the worst punishment we could ever do ta him an' yall should all see that and feel for 't 'f ya have any heart. Your suggestion isnt even effective 'f thats what you want. Its just monstrous and stupid. Thoughts like that are just not fit for Windclan you curs." And god did Crowtooth want to scar them for even considering it.
Screw all of this. Honestly. Crowtooth was scooping up Lighteningstorm (whom he slightly shifted to shelter as well) and maybe Firestorm and they were making sure Cowtuft would be as safe as possible as far as possible. He'd point the ex medicine cat to the twoleg place and pass on the rumors he'd heard of that place. If Cowtuft was taken in as a kittypet like the house cats said happened he'd be safe through winter and could decide were to go from there at least. Crowtooth could even catch a rabbit outside the borders for him to eat before them, he could at least try and give the spotted tom hope.
Crowtooth would obey Twilightstars and Windclans dictation as loyally as he could and not sacrifice his honor. Windclan would need that if cats like Littleshock and Fleckstorm remained in the clan.
@Poprock @dino.(not mentioning people talked about Im sure your stalking this thread)
Quote:
Originally Posted by Poprock
Littleshock
Warrior || She/her || 18 Moons || Purrks: none
Holy moly! You'd think it was Littleshock who poisoned seven cats with all the screaming her suggestion had caused. Fleckstorm seemed to be the only other rational one here... as usual. She offered them a toothy grin of approval before turning to deal with... all this.
First was Softsong. Her sharp tongue was always something Littleshock enjoyed; watching the warrior lay down the law at meetings was always something the at the time apprentice looked forward to. She never thought she would say something so horrible to be on the receiving end. Ya know, something horrible like: "Murderers are bad". Old age must be catchin' up to her. Poor thing. "I'm not after anything but justice, yeesh! Calm your raging emotions and think about what I said instead of snappin' at me like some kit." Still, she fought to seem unwavering, but inside she wanted to wilt like a flower in the shadows. That was not fun, and unfortunately it was only the start of a barrage of anger she had unintentionally caused.
Lichenpaw and Twistedpaw spoke up next, and immediately the tabby wished they would both just hush. Two whiny apprentice's squeaking up for a murderer was worse than one, and the warrior feared her head would explode if she listened to them for another second. "I never said for sport birdbrains. If you were listening with your ears instead of your hearts, you'd hear me say I want to hunt 'em down to keep cats like you safe! Starclan forbid we actually do something about our problems instead of just pushin' 'em outta sight. Memories of a rogue group who were allowed to camp in their territory flashed in her mind. Hadn't they been the same ones to corner Windclan in the tunnels? Guess these two were too young to remember.
Wolffang and Crowtooth snapped at her last. The former was more classy about it; spouting the typical "honor" and "clan code blah blah blah" one would expect from a former deputy. Words warriors like to use when one of their own needlessly died. Her pink nose wrinkled at the words, but she said nothing. She didn't agree with his approach, but couldn't help but still respect him. Even now he seemed like a standup guy. Littleshock offered him a small nod of acknowledgement before finally turning to the final cat to curse her for an innocent opinion. Crowtooth.
"I don't really care why he did it. What matters is he did. I don't care how many he's saved before, blood will forever stain his paws. Seven are dead. Where's your rage for them old man? Did you speak up when Peachfrost was exiled? No! She did good for the clan but when she stepped outta line and was exiled, that was fine. What's changed now? You spit and curse at me for wanting a monster dead yet when you return to camp to find another victim, Cow gets honeyed words and a slap on the paw from ya? I can't make sense of it." A white paw reached up to wipe off a splatter of spittle from Crowtooth. Gross. "I may be heartless, but at least I'm not blinded my emotion like you."
She had to get outta here. Too many eyes filled with hatred were glaring her way, too much dissapproval for one gal to handle. "I'm outta here, I'll let y'all mourn the loss of a monster while I head to mourn his victims." She stood, uncaring if anyone tried to stop her. Her sibling would be the final one she acknowledged, a small tired smile and flick of an orange tail, before striding out of camp.
@dino. @lesbianism @TheNyanCatMinecart @FrostyGalaxy
First was an apprentice shouting vileness at them. Fleckstorm's plumed tail twitched at Lichenpaw's words. Young. Uneducated. They turned deaf ears to her; her voice held no weight.
And if Lichenpaw's words had been vile, then Crowtooth's were as tainted as Cowtuft's poison. Spittle landed against their cheek and they lifted a paw to wipe it away. How unseemly. "Lives saved, yes, but here we still are. With five good cats dead and two children murdered thoughtlessly."
A still heartbeat passed, icy eyes roving over Crowtooth's form, before a grim, dangerous smile stretched Fleckstorm's lips. “Careful who you go around calling curs, you tattered fool. If you can't see the treachery unfolding in the tom right behind you, then you're of better use elsewhere. I suggest you save your breath for those who will listen to your senseless howling.”
As their sister stood to leave, Fleckstorm's smile softened significantly in return, only to sharpen once more as they turned their attention back to Crowtooth. "Should we ever slaughter our own over 'honest mistakes', as you said, then I would very much like to be the one to remove your head from your shoulders and leave your corpse to rot."
The sound of her drumming heartbeat was deafening in her ears as the small orange tabby watched Cowtuft. He seemed… done. He seemed as though he had already accepted his fate and was just waiting for the final verdict.
And it hurt her.
It hurt her so much to see the medicine cat that she had grown to see as some sort of family despite having none of her own like this. ’Failed’ he had signed. He had failed the deceased who had been poisoned by the herbs, he failed his clanmates who depended on him, he failed those who believed in him, and he had failed her. Cowtuft failed her and had no further words to spare her, to assure her that things would be alright and that it was all a misunderstanding.
Cowtuft looked so… sad. Every single fiber in her being told her to step closer to him, to put her paw upon his own and tell him a stupid joke. But she didn’t. Now wasn’t the time for jokes, now wasn’t the time for cheering up. Cowtuft was being scorned and shunned by his own clan, and it crushed her. Unable to find any words, she looked at him sadly – hoping to convey the sorrow and pain she felt in their situation. Oh, what she would’ve given to be stuck another moon in the den with him and Spots if only it meant that she’d have more time with him. She desperately wished that it had been warmer so that the two of them could make flower crowns again, maybe she could give hers to Lightningstorm and make some extras for him and Bravebird.
That time wouldn’t come though. It’d never come. Firestorm realized this as Twilighstar began to speak, forcing her attention away from her found brother. Exile. Cowtuft was to be stripped of his rank, and his home. Would he be okay out there? Did he know how to hunt? How to take care of himself? Unfortunately, Firestorm wasn’t quite too sure how he’d fare out in the outskirts alone and the thought terrified her. It was dangerous out there and though she loved him very much, she didn’t think that Cowtuft had the necessary temperament to able to fend for himself. She was sure of it, Cowtuft would die afraid and alone.
He didn’t deserve that.
”Twilightstar, wai-” She began as the large tom began walking towards the entrance of the camp before Lightningstorm’s voice cut into her like a hot knife into cold butter. Truth be told, she had almost forgotten about the calico that stood beside her.
"I- I wish to go as well, Twilightstar. Say goodbye... one last time." Lightningstorm had said. She didn’t know what it was, maybe it was the way she said it, or the look on her face, but something about the younger healer’s request sent a shiver up her spine. Slowly turning to properly look at the younger she-cat, she studied her closely. ”Spots…?” She asked hesitantly, afraid that if her friend left too she’d never see her again. Surely that was just her being paranoid, right? She was supposed to be mad at her, so why was it that the idea of losing her closest friend tore her heart apart?
No, she wouldn’t wait for a response, she was going to find out what was going on herself. Turning back to Twilightstar, she stood up boldly despite the migraine, despite the tears, and despite the voice in the back of her head telling her to sit back, to get out of the way.
”I-if Lightningstorm is going with the p-patrol, then I’m going with h-her.” A statement, not a question. She wasn’t allowing any room for debate. If Lightningstorm left camp, so did she. Her instincts, as questionable as they were were screaming at her to not let the calico out of her sight. So she wouldn’t ever again. She didn't care who tried to stop her, she didn't care what anyone else had to say. If Lightningstorm was to leave the camp, she'd be accompanying her and if anyone got in her way she'd fight her way through them, even if it was the entire clan.
Firestorm decided then and there that regardless of the outcome she’d tell her. She’d tell Spots how she truly felt and would even go as far as grovel and beg her to not leave – to stay with her. She couldn’t lose her too.
✩｡°°｡✩ he . . him ➔ massive white tom with black splotches and floppy ears. scars cover his neck. x-marks on his shoulders and his left hindleg is covered in burn scars
╭₊˚purrks﹕monkey's paw, the collector, herb knowledge, kitty softpaws ₊˚੭ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
when cowtuft was younger he used to think he would make it to be an ancient age; lasting as long as twilightstar if he was lucky. nine medicine cats later and he's the next to fall. it was always coming. it's the strange thing. he had came to this conclusion that to last a full twelve moons in one's rank was a rarity.
expect. he didn't think this would happen, never, it was never a thought. it was as if everyone had knew, only now deciding to pull him into the same reality but it was too late. the damage was done, there were blood on his paws and he was stained. soul forever tainted; whether or not he wished to join the stars did not matter. they were far out of his reach but of course he knew this.
he had to have known. it had always been there. always after he (someone) administered the herb. (he hadn't noticed the scent or the red tint but it had been there all along but he doesn't understand - how could he think someone would do such a thing?)
Cowtuft takes in a shaky breath as if his ribs are bruised; like if he took in too much, he would crumble into dust. Cats are yelling at him, stepping up to him. They want an answer, they want to know something other than what he's presented them. He isn't sure what's he presented them; a full entrée of rotten dishes would be alike.
It had always been there in front of his eyes but for some reason, he is only now looking into the flames. The after had always been fuzzy, everything had happened fast. Fast, incredibly fast. Even now, his eyebrows furrow together - tugging after the sensation the deathberries prickled in his mind. He had only one goal when everything had happened, get everyone away from the bodies before more cats fell sick.
Someone speaks up in a rough and raspy voice that can only be Crowtooth. Cowtuft looks to the warrior, and his expression becomes brittle. He doesn't want to cry, but he cannot help but feel as if his chest was set aflame. Every word stung, his eyes filled with thick, watery tears that threatened to spill.
Anger would've been fitting, satisfactory, it was something he deserved. This is not that, it is sadness, it is hurt, it is betrayal. And that isn't something he can handle. He wasn't built for such things. Even the mercy the scruffy tom offered was far more than he deserved. It twisted into his side, cracked open a bottle of messes.
he had killed his cousin. he had taken two -- three young lives.
Had anyone else had his position they would not be here.
Cowtuft brings his paws up once more, sliding his dominant paw across the bottom of his paw pad to the top of his toes. "Failed, " it is all he can offer, there was no excuse. no reason that would lessen the burn. That was all too much for him and the tears that had welted up started to spill. His shoulders shook, and he blinked in rapid succession to relief. They fell, and they fell. His vision grew watery, but his body becomes still while his mind is wracked with assaults.
His heart had sunk into the very bottom of his chest, a heavy weight. It thumped, and thumped, but if he could he would pull it out with his own claws as retribution and again, and again, and again, and again and again . An eternal punishment, a cycle. Instead it is becoming that there would be no punishment to satisfy his own hunger.
Had he been so blind? Where had he lost his thought?
Cowtuft jerks back at the sound of Lightningstorm's anguish voice rippled through his ears. He turns to look at her, and oh, god, all the air in his lungs is taken away and he is choking - he had hurt her. Out of everyone, he had hurt. His apprentice. He was the same as the others they shunned; neglectful warriors. He was worse. He killed seven cats. They were all dead. She deserved better. All of it, and he sniffles helplessly. The tears still won't relent.
He moves to speak, opens his mouth as if he might spill the true secret.
The true secret is Cowtuft simply forgot. Until now, he did not realize. He hadn't even told himself. Such an excuse was disgraceful, it wasn't acceptable, he didn't know how to express such a lacking. (His mind was still reeling, screaming at him because everything seemed wrong but he had to believe this and he had to accept it there was nothing else to accept this was all that there was) To know it was never her, could never be. He didn't leave her behind intentionally, but did that change the core of it all? She did not know. His failure resulted in it all.
He shakes his head back and forth, back and forth, looking down and at his paws. As if to scream silently, it will never be because of you, never, never, never please understand this.
The yelling becomes background to his ears, and becomes him and himself and the burning fire. He has the privilege of the accused - he knows he did not poison his herbs. He didn't remember, but he clings to that because he can't believe anything else. Someone in WindClan had did so, and he only aided their destruction. ,, They were likely here. Watching their plans final unravel into a ending. Cowtuft's eyes dart around, looking for them. He wanted to try and catch something, to see if someone showed enjoyment but nothing showed. It was him, and simply him.
but someone had did this, someone had wanted to cause harm. they wanted blood. it shakes him to his very center.
The tears are still streaming down his face, his bottom lip wavering but he keeps his legs cemented where they are. He cannot move them, he is a witness. He would look, and he would remember everything of this. He would remember how the fire burned through his veins, the smoke that clouded his throat. His head is pounding, and Cowtuft tries to stay in the moment. Peachfrost's name gets mentioned and he is doused with gasoline. She had been right all the along — he was wrong, he should've let her killed him then. She had knew the truth, he had looked up to her. Why would he not listen?
he remembered the before, but not the after. he remembers now; it all shattered in front of him. splintering into little bits. he is standing in front of the cracked plate, looking at the fragments as he pushes them to place to reveal the final painting. he looks at the pieces he did know and discovers they are not the shade he thought they were. they are red, dripping crimson red.
(Screams, it was all screams. The blood bubbled up from their mouth, they fell over. Limp, and still. Lifeless, but their bodies were still warm. )
Another warrior speaks to him, pointing out his carelessness to not monitor the poison. He numbly nodded in agreement, he had laid his sins out in front of them all - there was no defense. He knew it seemed unlikely. He had his truth but that would not be the same as his clanmates. If there was anymore evidence it would be found but not by him. His contributions ended here.
He hears Fallownose's voice. Cowtuft lowers himself, not by much, but he appears smaller while the deputy speaks. He can't disagree, but the tears prickle in his eyes at hearing someone he cared for call for his own death. There is no question or hesitance. He could not figure out whether the tom believed he had did it himself, he doesn't know what the other thinks. He never wants to know.
It's Firestorm the next time. Her voice is filled with despair. She's speaking to him but he only hears bits and pieces. She wants something from him that he does not have. Cowtuft couldn't take her pain away. It was his damnation. A sob wrecks through his body, he can't tell her. He can only give silence. It is far what she deserves.
It's hard to look at everyone. To exist both here and there and no where and everywhere. Another cat calls for his exile. His gaze shifts numbly to them, swallowing. He nods, because he understands. WindClan came first. It was the logical conclusion, but he can't help to see the trust they put in him. They trust him to not poison WindClan further in said exile,, or survive long enough to do so.
He would die alone, it was suitable.
The tears dampen his pelt, a quiet pitter-patter as they hit the floor. He's standing, he has not moved. He wants to speak, to say more, to express that some were far too biased; demotion or temporary would be not enough. disrespectful if otherwise, but his fate was not his. He would not assist it. Cowtuft meant his words in full. He might as well throw the match himself - stars knows he would gladly do it. At the end of it all, pass the confusion and the hurt there was the shame. The sick, ugly feeling that consumed him. It had always been there but now it shined. Brightly and fully.
He must've fooled them. A performer, tricked them all into believing he was good and righteous when he was a fraud. He's tired, his body hangs on him heavy, but he turns to Twistedpaw who speaks bravely out. Her heart is strong, he knew this - it was no surprise. He simply wished she hadn't put such faith into him. He wished he could've fulfilled his promise, but it is all gone. It was crushed.
Cowtuft moves, taking a small step. He approaches her but he doesn't meet her gaze. Far too much. He tries to gently touch his nose against her shoulder if she would allow it, pulling back. "It's, okay, " He signed slowly, looking at her. He couldn't explain it all to her, but he wanted to reassure her. WindClan would prevail with or without him.
A few moments later Twilightstar calls his fate. He pulls back, twisting his body to look forward, looking for his leader. Cowtuft will be stripped of his rank as WindClan's medicine cat and exiled from the clan. It repeats in his head, over and over and over and over - the fire in his chest dies out and his chest freezes. And the connection he tried to firmly hold onto breaks, his body is sluggish - adrenaline does not help him, he has accepted his fate. There is no fight. He made peace with it. He would have to make peace with it every dreadful morning he happened to wake up. He would have to learn to coexist with the ugly creature that inhabited his body, his mind, and he knows not if that will happen. He does not think so. He does not think there is any peace in this.
He sluggishly weaves through any cats that might block him, stepping back up to her. He looks out to the camp entrance, out into the territory. He looks around the camp, trying to remember it but it might all be futile. He waits to be escorted.
"Well then, HOW ABOUT TWILIGHTSTAR JOINS HIM?!" Wildstorm suddenly yowled over the chaos. "HE WAS FRAMED, BY WHO I DON'T KNOW BUT I KNOW ONE THING- THIS IS SOMETHING COWTUFT WOULDN'T DO. HE MUST'VE NEVER EVEN REALIZED SOMEONE HAD SLIPPED DEATHBERRIES IN WITH THE HERBS TO SPOIL THEM, SO DON'T GO BLAMING HIM!" His fierce and annoyed tone rang across the clearing.
Wha?? No no no, Cowtuft is leaving Windclan!? This...why did this have to happen!? Cowtuft...sure maybe he was ignorant but Springpaw was sure he saved more lives, right?? Springpaw had always seen Twilightstar as someone wise and smart, she still does but...isn't this too harsh? He doesn't need to be exiled, did he...? Just take away his position and that's all that was needed to be done. No need for exiling...right..? The apprentice didn't want Cowtuft to leave but sh knew she can't do anything about it. No one would listen. After probably so so long of him being medicine cat, he's just...going to get exiled like that!? And Springpaw probably won't see him again, ever. The she-cat wasn't really too close to Cowtuft, but was frustrated and her face was clear of that. She wanted to know who poisened the herbs. Who was the reason for all of this to happen. Who are they..? An investigation has to be done right? Because..this cat wanted to hurt others on purpose! Unlike Cowtuft! Her blurry gaze looked over at Cowtuft's apprentice as the older she-cat wanted to join him and...Springpaw understood why. The two seems so close to each other. Then all of this chaos and death have to happen. Then another cat wished to go as well. It sounded like she was Lightningstorm's friend. She understood that as well.
The apprentice wasn't close to either of the medicine cats, but she still cared for them. Would it be save for her to join them? Even though she didn't know them well..? The apprentice jumped back a bit in surprised as Wildstorm was yelling for Twilightstar to join Cowtuft in exile and..at this point Springpaw didn't know what to think of it. "U-uhm..." Her voice was initially quiet before she took a deep breath and sighed "if so....can...can Springpaw join the patrol as well then....?" at least for just a little bit...? her voice was still quiet, but this time it's more possible to hear what she said. If she ends up getting kicked out of Windclan as well then...even though windclan's her home and it'll hurt...this place won't feel the same after the events that happened today. This whole thing is giving her a headache. Before it was small and she didn't really care for it nor realized it but all this yelling and calling for Cowtuft's death...she...wasn't sure how to think about all this. It's just...too much. She slowly turned her head and her eyes looked back at Twilightstar, waiting for whatever the leader needed to say next
Re: WindClan Clearing
