Grubpaw
He/Him~Windclan~17 Moons~Flock Together 1
"Bad thoughts give me bad dreams
And my bad dreams make me sleepwalk"
"This is all quite a bore, are we just gonna let this murderer walk away alive' Grubpaw grumbled to himself. Im sick of this yapping over and over, can we just go back to be ferocious warriors. "The other clan are gonna be thinking we're weak! now that we are allies with damn Shadowclan" he groaned.
OPEN
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★☆"There is no show without an Audience!"☆★
Gentlecrab is Beachclan's Medicine cat, pearl has a semi-open den policy
Please use tone tags when speaking to me Character website Commisions
Grubpaw
He/Him~Windclan~17 Moons~Flock Together 1
"Bad thoughts give me bad dreams
And my bad dreams make me sleepwalk"
"This is all quite a bore, are we just gonna let this murderer walk away alive' Grubpaw grumbled to himself. Im sick of this yapping over and over, can we just go back to be ferocious warriors. "The other clan are gonna be thinking we're weak! now that we are allies with damn Shadowclan" he groaned.
OPEN
Bristlepaw
WindClan Apprentice
Bristlepaw fixed a sharp glare on her denmate from blue eyes.
''That's enough, Grubpaw,'' Her voice was firm as she spoke to the tom. Her tail tip twitched irritably, her blue-gray and white fur bushed out against the cold.
''It's not our place to speak. Let the warriors do the talking.''
Last edited by paedyn; January 4th, 2024 at 04:59 PM.
Bristlepaw fixed a sharp glare on her denmate from blue eyes.
''That's enough, Grubpaw,'' Her voice was firm as she spoke to the tom. Her tail tip twitched irritably, her blue-gray and white fur bushed out against the cold.
''It's not our place to speak. Let the warriors do the talking.''
Grubpaw
He/Him~Windclan~17 Moons~Flock Together 1
"Bad thoughts give me bad dreams
And my bad dreams make me sleepwalk"
"Like you can tell me what to do! you're hardly older then me!" the brown tom bristled. "This is my damn clan! I live in it! I have the right say what needs to be done!" he snapped.
( @paris dont mind him, hes just a little bundle of rage and bloodlust)
__________________
★☆"There is no show without an Audience!"☆★
Gentlecrab is Beachclan's Medicine cat, pearl has a semi-open den policy
Please use tone tags when speaking to me Character website Commisions
Last edited by Kieran.; January 4th, 2024 at 05:04 PM.
Blizzardpelt scooted closer to his mate, worriedly. He let out a soft chuckle at her confusing him with her mother. “No, Minttuft. I brought you back after you passed out. Are you alright?…” he meowed, licking her ear that had the cut, then proceeding to move to the scrape at the back of her head, a whole giant ball of fluffy worry remained in his eyes.
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My OCs bios|Back from Hiatus
My pronouns are; She/Her/He/Him/They/Them/It. My timezone is GMT+8. I go to school from 8:30 to 3:45. Originally joined on August 6th, 2019. Please keep in mind that my characters have their beliefs and does not mean I always approve their behavior.
Last edited by Fawn; January 8th, 2024 at 03:38 AM.
Grubpaw
He/Him~Windclan~17 Moons~Flock Together 1
"Bad thoughts give me bad dreams
And my bad dreams make me sleepwalk"
"Like you can tell me what to do! you're hardly older then me!" the brown tom bristled. "This is my damn clan! I live in it! I have the right say what needs to be done!" he snapped.
( @paris dont mind him, hes just a little bundle of rage and bloodlust)
A low growl rumbled in Bristlepaw's throat.
''Sucks to suck, mouse-brain, because I'm still older than you, AND I have MUCH more common sense!'' The apprentice hissed.
''I suggest watching your tone or you'll have to answer to Fallownose - or worse, Twilightstar. I'm trying to keep you OUT of trouble, not get you into it.''
Birdpaw yowled I WANNA HELP at the top of her lungs for some reason when Deadmoon asked if anyone wanted to come with her to collect herbs, then walking over to Deadmoon. Most likely Deadmoon had heard the underaged five moon old apprentice yowling goodbye to Cowtuft. It would be surprising if she HADN'T heard her as most likely everyone in the clearing had heard Birdpaw because she had been being and was being then the utter opposite of quiet. @gs29513 (Open)
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My posts are always open unless I say otherwise. VM me if you would like to set up a roleplay with one of my characters or even if you just want to talk. If you have a character that knows one of my characters somehow you're welcome to make a starter and mention me whenever you want to roleplay them together. I often end up editing my applications, especially if I'm not using a form so don't consider my first draft to be final as it likely isn't, especially if it's a kit finder. If one of my characters says, thinks, or does something you don't like please don't get angry at me since I'm just trying to roleplay their personalities.
Last edited by Katiethewolfchild; January 5th, 2024 at 02:10 AM.
✩｡°°｡✩ 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 ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
If he could choke on the guilt of his sins then he would be suffocated. He had to have fooled them all. At some point, somewhere, it had all gone horribly, horribly wrong. Cowtuft knows this now as he stands near Twilightstar, it's a new place he's stuck in. His eyes darting around as cats reacted, the reactions coming in tenfold. He couldn't put a name to all of their faces, features blurring together, unable to pick out the specific scents. It was all futile, dreadfully futile.
He struggles to understand why a few of his clanmates reacted negatively to the news. Some turning to hiss at Twilightstar, even though he would argue the sentence.. was far too relying on trust. (His ears twitched, some were on the complete opposite ends. They wished to make prey out of him, though he supposed he would not last long enough for the game to be awfully satisficing. ) It relied on the belief he was neglectful, not malicious. The evidence said otherwise. Execution would remove the possible threat. The very thought makes his expression slip, and he tries to choke back a sob to no avail. Cowtuft was dreadful, what he knew was no more.
Someone with Leafspot on their back pauses to look at him. The sounds around him die down for a little, he watches them shake their head. A part of him breaks off. Small, but concrete evidence.
His heart breaks more as Twistedpaw turns to bury herself into his fluff, and he wishes for the power to tell his younger self to spend more time with those he cared for. He didn't cherish it enough. He had devoted himself to his work, but the cost was great. It always took.
He didn't get to teach Twistedpaw how to use paw gestures or the paw taps - he never got managed to completely pass all his knowledge to Lightningstorm. Not the small bits, the trivial things. He had so much to give to the world, but that was nothing. This would be the last time he saw any of them, and that causes the rest of his resolve to disperse. The tears stream freely down his face, his shoulders beginning to shake as Cowtuft desperately tries to wrap himself around the smaller one. A final goodbye, to fit a thousand of apologies in one singular action. To pour all the remaining love he had for her and hoped she would pick up on the vibration of his heart.
And that he was proud. Always proud of so many.
Twistedpaw pulls back from him, snapping like a spring to defend him. He's never seen her with such electricity, he cannot recall if he ever heard her raise her voice before. It startles him, and he freezes completely, trying to desperately process what has occurred. Guilt hits him tenfold. A stark reminder he was the cause of such anguish.
He crumbles completely to the floor without Twistedpaw by his side. Every sob burned through him, his eyes stung, what little dignity he had succumbed to the abyss. He's quiet even in such despair, but with great effort. Cowtuft gnaws his inner cheek, sharp pain enlightening as blood fills his mouth. Heavy, and tangy.
There's another apprentice who joins in with Twistedpaw but he can't put a name to their voice and it's another boulder that resides on his shoulder.
(Thank you for believing there is something not rotten here but oh god how can you believe otherwise? Can you not see the growing mold? The decay has reached the root, it is all falling apart. )
The splotched tom ends up lost in his rumination, in his own sobs, the way his tears wet his fur. It's gross, it doesn't help the feeling of disgust. Twistedpaw's shriek is the only thing that rips him from his shaking ball. Briefly, he assumes she must've been hurt and he jerks to his paws - reaching to defend her, to keep her safe, until he sees the claw marks against a feline's cheek and the blood.
It is not her blood.
And all he can think about is the blood and the way it drips and the way it's familiar to the blood in their mouths. the blood in their mouths that they (he) would never get out. Cowtuft freezes again, he's sat up this time, his tears had stopped but all he is looking at is the blood.
His thoughts are stuck until he is no longer looking at the injured warrior until his vision comes a little more into focus. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus back on what was happening around him. Looking around, Crowtooth was yelling. His voice was clear as day, and similar thoughts occur. How could he deserve such a defense despite everything? (seven lives lost, some saved but could you compare them? no good could fix the wrong, any punishment he received could not reserve the fact seven were killed by him by someway or another. )
Another feline calls for Twilightstar to join him, offering up the idea he was framed.
Cowtuft rolls the thought inside his head, but there is no cat he could say would frame him. He sees no benefit in it. His gratitude is wavered by uncomfortably. He did not want his fellow high ranks to be prosecuted.
In the loudness of the all, the tom doesn't catch on to those who volunteer to escort him. It is drowned out by it all. He turns slowly once Twilightstar speaks again, addressing the current affairs. She's a grounding point, something to focus on. Something he knows to follow even in this time. He wishes she wouldn't put such a thing on herself, but he doesn't say that. It's apart of the job.
He straightens himself up as the time for goodbyes come. Cowtuft grits his teeth, gathers up his strength. He would be here, he would be here and he would remember this he would say goodbye. He looks ahead, and he tries to meet the gaze of everyone who comes up to him.
In retrospect, it feels like with every goodbye the claws around his heart dug in deeper. It was hell, and wasn't that the thing? How could he say goodbye and leave everything unfinished? There could be no coming to terms with that. It's why he struggles to offer much than a dip of his head at times as a response with the ones that wish him well.
Cowtuft doesn't know how to explain there would be no wellness, he would rot and would ensure his own suffering to make amends with the dead. He would be his own executioner; it's a bitter thought be he accepts it. If there was not WindClan, he couldn't be anything else. (And maybe that was self serving in itself)
Crowtooth must be able to read his head is the spotted cat's first thought as he steps up. The older tom is able to speak right to his core. Cowtuft's eyebrows furrow together, his expression crinkling up in disbelief. He looks at Crowtooth, desperately trying to understand. How? How? The idea of being a kittypet, of choosing a life of comfort,, He couldn't allow himself that.
He would spend every day of his life trying to help WindClan in the little ways. He hangs his head lowly, but he reaches his paws up to try and shakily make a gesture. The words are something to ground on, just the interaction. It's what he tries to focus on. The cat in front of him. "I will miss you,, " He signs messily, tapping a claw against his chin. Cowtuft reckons that is all he can say to them all.
I'm sorry. Thank you. I will miss you.
There's another cat, he doesn't have a name for them but they apologize even when that is the furthest from what they should do. He isn't sure what they mean, but he shakes his head back and forth in response. And he notices their leg, clearly injured - he blinks slowly and it slips into his mind. He could tell Lightningstorm in a few. He could do one last thing.
Scalescar is easier to recognize, though it takes Cowtuft a few to realize. His expression softens, looking at the younger who had grown up in front of his very eyes. He lifts his right paw up, forming a large circular motion. "Always." There would never be a time the other wouldn't offer him treatment. "Of course."
By the time a cat licks him (and he has to restrain himself from pulling back out of shock) he knows it is time to go. He could sit and let the goodbyes happen, he could try to form a speech. Something beautiful, something to last but he knows that is not how it will go. Someone whispers him to be safe and he dips his head. A way to say thank you. It's all he has been doing. Thanking his clanmates for choosing to speak. He cherished every word, even the ones that were filled with hatred.
"I'm sorry. Thank you. I will miss you. " He's regained a bit more of control, the tears still watered but they were not as intense as prior. He knows its only time before they return, the strength he gained would but he manages to gesture a vague goodbye. They deserved that at the very least. He feels crushed he can't give them more.
This is it. This is all it would ever be.
Cowtuft turns his back to his clanmates, looking to Lightningstorm and Twilightstar. He gives a small nod of his head as if to say, okay. I can do this now. There is no other choice.
A lithe diluted tortoiseshell she-cat had just finished her meal - a scrawny rabbit, since she had given the plump one to the elders - when she noticed her Clanmate standing a few fox-lengths away.
Gingersplash got to her paws, eyes narrowing slightly as her fur fluffed up against the leaf-bare chill. She padded over to Scorchedfang.
Dipping her head respectfully to the older warrior, Gingersplash asked him, ''Hello, Scorchedfang. May we have a talk?''
Scorchedfang had collected a lizard from the fresh-kill pile, and had claimed a more isolated edge of the clearing to enjoy his meal. The lizard was a little stale, and smelled suspiciously like a certain medicine cat.. he was extra careful in making sure it wasn't tampered with before he began to eat it.
His ears flickered as he was approached, and he did not spare a glance upwards at Gingersplash as he continued to try to enjoy his meal. "What do you want?"
Scorchedfang had collected a lizard from the fresh-kill pile, and had claimed a more isolated edge of the clearing to enjoy his meal. The lizard was a little stale, and smelled suspiciously like a certain medicine cat.. he was extra careful in making sure it wasn't tampered with before he began to eat it.
His ears flickered as he was approached, and he did not spare a glance upwards at Gingersplash as he continued to try to enjoy his meal. "What do you want?"
''I wanted to say that I am sorry for protesting Twilightstar's demands to ally ourselves with ShadowClan,'' She began.
''If I am honest, I still don't agree with it. But, there are times to protest your leader and there are times when you don't. I've accepted that, as well as the fact I should have kept my mouth shut.''
Re: WindClan Clearing
Re: WindClan Clearing
