[ @canineantics ] BEASTFLAME
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Pikestar turned his head to look at Beastflame, the latter of which immediately looked away, startled by the confusion and sadness in the other tom's blue eyes. After what seemed like forever, the leader nodded and responded. That's what someone who wasn't okay would say, thought the striped warrior. Then again, it was also what someone who was okay would say. But something about the black cat's behavior told Beastflame that there was more layers behind the answer than it appeared. He didn't push, though.
The large warrior raised his gaze to meet Pikestar's as he shifted away from the border to face him fully. Beastflame tilted his head in surprise, confused by the apology. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said abruptly, instinctively. Immediately, he regretted it. Everyone had something to be sorry for. He knew that he himself certainly had many things he ought to be sorry for. From what he could tell, though, Pikestar had been doing well. Although, he was certain not everyone felt the same. Still, he imagined that the job of a leader was much more difficult than that of almost any other cat. Surely that meant there should be more room allowed for error? More forgiveness? The thought itself was amusing to Beastflame, as he was not exactly the most forgiving individual. Perhaps that was something to be put aside for now, though.
"If it makes you feel better, though, I forgive you," he added on with a dip of his head. He wasn't exactly sure what specific thing he was forgiving Pikestar for, or even if it was a more abstract apology, but he didn't mind. Beastflame was not a fan of the mood radiating from the leader, and felt an overwhelming urge to reverse it. But what could he do?
Pikestar was commenting on the coming storm, drawing Beastflame out of his pondering. "Ah yes, that," he said, chuckling wryly. "That would...that would be nice," he nodded, surprised once more by the oriental's request. He pushed to his feet, leaves crunching softly beneath his weight, and arched his back briefly to rid it of ache. The cold weather really did his joints and muscles little favors. He padded over to pick up his snake and vole, shifting them to the side of his teeth so that he could still converse with the other tom if needed, and then returned, awaiting Pikestar to take the lead. "Lots...on your mind recently?" he asked a little awkwardly, voice slightly muffled.
Where was his mother?! The newborn let out a soft wail, squirming around in the wet stuff. It was cold, very cold. He had been laying here in the wet stuff for a long time, and the kits body temperature was dropping fast. His stomach rumbled and he let out a plaintive wail, kicking out and squirming. Eventually, a new scent filled his nostrils and he was being pulled out of the blood, and licked to clean his fur of the red stuff, downy fluff slicked to his side by the crimson pool, and he felt a bit warmer now. The cat above him whispered soothingly, and the little kitten tried to get closer to the cat, desperate for warmth. He didn't have the skill of speaking or seeing his savior, so he just nestled up real close, shivering slightly.
[ @xavier. - SO SORRY for deleting my old post, I wanted to switch some things up ): ]
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nightshade | birdsnow | daybreak | fallenkit
Last edited by poppy; March 20th, 2023 at 11:33 PM.
⌦ .｡.:*♡ @Willowfern || hahdas no this isnt a month late wdym
Wormbite had always wondered what it would feel like to feel one's life drain out from beneath him. To know he was the cause of their despair. Maybe he would cry or scream, or something. To see if he would get that sick satisfaction, he always thought might be delivered to him - a villain that lurked in the shadows. There was nothing. Claws ripped through soft flesh and tore. Blood splattered against the front of Wormbite, and he listened to the dying croaks of Golashes. A beast. That was what the outsider had called him, before leaving a mark against his chest of claw marks. Something Wormbite didn't wince at because he didn't feel all there.
He stood there for what seemed like forever but maybe only a minute, staring down at the body. A shuddering sigh finally leaving his lips as the adrenaline begun to fade. Ah. He .. he didn't .. enjoy this feeling. He didn't feel disguised, he had been given no other choice - and was not as if Wormbite had been genuinely attempting .. to end Golashes life. It was... perhaps not an accident, but not something planned.
It was what it was. .. Wormbite felt uncomfortable. And letting a numbness wash over him was the thing he always fell back to. He didn't want to think about the life he took, or the blood that was staining his pelt. He had a duty, a civil duty. Clean up the mess he caused.
He picked up Golashes' ruined body and dragged it to the outskirts. Far enough that he would leave it to rot for the crowfood.
Where was his mother?! The newborn let out a soft wail, squirming around in the wet stuff. It was cold, very cold. He had been laying here in the wet stuff for a long time, and the kits body temperature was dropping fast. His stomach rumbled and he let out a plaintive wail, kicking out and squirming. Eventually, a new scent filled his nostrils and he was being pulled out of the blood, and licked to clean his fur of the red stuff, downy fluff slicked to his side by the crimson pool, and he felt a bit warmer now. The cat above him whispered soothingly, and the little kitten tried to get closer to the cat, desperate for warmth. He didn't have the skill of speaking or seeing his savior, so he just nestled up real close, shivering slightly.
[ @xavier. - SO SORRY for deleting my old post, I wanted to switch some things up ): ]
~ Once the kit was all clean the tom curled around the kit to try and get his body temperature up for a moment before heading back to the camp and brought to Lilyheart. The raccoon-like tom couldn't help but feel a 'motherly' attachment to the kit but couldn't place exactly why. Raccoonpelt stayed curled around the kit for a moment more before standing up and picking the small thing gently by the scruff. Raccoonpelt looked back at the dead bodies. Just drop the small kit at the nursery with Lilyheart and come back with a few others. The tom had to hurry before that fox decided to come back for 2nds. And with that Raccoonpelt started to quickly make his way to the camp. ~
| SORRY FOR THE WAIT |
Last edited by xavier.; March 21st, 2023 at 09:58 AM.
~ Once the kit was all clean the tom curled around the kit to try and get his body temperature up for a moment before heading back to the camp and brought to Lilyheart. The raccoon-like tom couldn't help but feel a 'motherly' attachment to the kit but couldn't place exactly why. Raccoonpelt stayed curled around the kit for a moment more before standing up and picking the small thing gently by the scruff. Raccoonpelt looked back at the dead bodies. Just drop the small kit at the nursery with Lilyheart and come back with a few others. The tom had to hurry before that fox decided to come back for 2nds. And with that Raccoonpelt started to quickly make his way to the camp. ~
| SORRY FOR THE WAIT |
( feel free to post in the clearing/nursery with racc dropping the kid off, then maybe gathering a patrol to clean up? up to you <3 )
The tiny kitten let out a soft, uncertain trill as his fur was lapped clean, only a slight russet tint showing in his pale splotches showed that there was ever blood coating his small body. Warmth surrounded him, and he curled up into this safe cat's fur, trying to feel around for any food. He reached out and felt nothing, smelled none of the thing he instinctively knew he needed.
letting out a wail for his mother and father, for food, the warmth was gone too soon, and he was being gently picked up. letting out a miserable, hungry wail, the kit curled up into a ball, a tiny ball of damp fluff in the warrior's jaws. hunger and cold made his body ache and tremble, and the quivering kit let out a soft whimper as the warrior began to carry him somewhere.
Dogbait
he's small. he's young enough that he shouldn't even be weaned yet, but nobody's ever cared about that. HE doesn't care about that. he doesn't care about anything at all.
just seven weeks, he can do more than toddle but he can't do much. he doesn't really know how vulnerable he is, so little, so barely-alive. may as well be prey wandering the forest but he doesn't know that either. he doesn't know much at all besides his name — and only knows that because they say it to him so much. dogbait, stupid little dogbait. they aren't nice, they're never nice, he's never ever going back there — they're assholes, th-they're very awful, they're mangy rats, they're — they're — those are all the bad words he can think of right now. he will come up with more later.
he's so dirty, absolutely ragged, tiny fleabitten thing stumbling the forest floor with teeth bared. never ever EVER going back. they'll never find him out here. stinky — maggots! worms! he hates them! he hates them.
dogbait squeaks and snarls, baby-hisses at everything that moves, everything that makes a sound. it's morning, early morning. the sky is awake and he doesn't want to be. he slipped into a puddle and got wet earlier and now he keeps shivering and it makes him so, so mad. rage twists up the boy's tiny face as he staggers through underbrush, clambering over twigs with little stub legs — he wants somewhere to lie down — he wants a dark place to hide — he wants the shivering to go away he wants EVERYTHING TO STOP.
he does not get what he wants.
Suddenly, he hears a sound. A few cats. all dogbait knows is that there’s a BIG, big cat, much bigger than him. they are dangerous. they are horrible, crawling maggots, pieces of trash, they — they — ! he summons that snarl again, rears up on his hind legs and hisses, all hackles raised, furious little vermin. (he is so filthy. he is so small.)
"GO AWAY!" he screams the loudest scream he can muster, furious squeak at best, teeth bared in a horrible snarl. one tries to approach him or so he thinks, anyway, and terror ratchets his heartrate up, rabbit-quick in his chest. no no no no no no no no no no. "GO AWAY — GET AWAY FROM ME — VERY NASTY M- MAGGOTS LEAVE ME ALONE — " dogbait scrambles back the best he can but fear won't let him turn around, so it's clumsy, stumbling, shuffling backward on sick weak legs. his voice is cracking, crumbling.
[ open to 3 ]
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Viperpaw (he/him)
Riverclan | 6 moons
Gray with lighter areas and a crooked jaw.
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Viperpaw walked through the forest. Not much was going on,
so he decided he’d just go walk around the territory a bit. He
didn’t want to go to far out, just for a little walk around. No
one would notice he was gone—he’d be back before anyone
could ask, “Wait, where’d Viperpaw go-?”.
Prey ran at his feet but he didn’t even try to catch them. He
wasn’t mad or anything, he just wanted to walk without thinking
about any thing like hunting or fighting. Why did he even bother
with training again? It’s not like he’d ever become a good warrior or
anything. Not with his crooked jaw. How was he supposed to hunt?
Or fight? Or even carry a kit? No, he was mad.
Some noise interrupted his thinking. Like a little squealing sorta
thing. He began to head towards it. Finally he brushed past a bush
and spots a small kit…now shouting at him.
“Oh no, oh no no no no no.” He began walking towards him.
The kit was small and appeared to be sick. “Your little. How old
are you? Are you even a moon old? No you have to be at least…
How did you get out here? Do you have a name? How old are you?
I said that already! Oh Starclan…” He rambled on, his voice
weird sounding due to the whole crooked jaw thing. But as he got
closer to the little kit he began to back away, fast.
”Hey, hey, hey! Don’t run away! I need to get you back to camp!
It’s safe there, and your sick…” He rushed forward and tried to
place a paw behind the little thing to prevent him from going
further backwards. The young kit smelled of rouges and loners.
Shasha was wandering through What they called "Riverclan Territory" She wandered until she spotted a nearby cat. She waddled over and smiled her hello. "Hewo! Im Shasha! Who are you!?" she asked, in a quick tone.
Shasha smiled, she giggled and titled her head. "Dogbait is a terrible name! Whoever named you is horrible at naming! Your new name should be.... Mackie!" She said, jumping up. She quickly noticed the other cats and turned. "Hiii!"
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Snakepaw (he/him)
Riverclan | 6 moons
Gray with lighter areas and a crooked jaw.
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Dogbait. He thought, That’s- Someone else finished his thought. …A terrible name. This other cat was weird. Friendly and not weary of them at all. He instinctively took a few steps away from the group.
“Uhm. Hello.” He said, not knowing what to do. They had no clan sent. Maybe they were a loner? But if their a loner what were they doing in Riverclan territory? Should he kick them out?
“What are you doing here? This is Riverclan territory. Are you a loner? Or rouge? If so why come to Riverclan when there are a bunch of other places…Do you live with a group of rouges? Or a family group? Why would you come here? Or maybe your a kittypet. That would explain how friendly you are towards us random strangers. I guess. I’ve never met a kittypet before. I think. As long as none of the people in Riverclan are former kittypets. I don’t know.” He bombarded her with a load of questions and statements and comments, just spilling his thoughts.
He turned towards the small kit. He was practically losing his mind with all the thoughts and questions in his mind. “Maybe your both kittypets. Or loners. Or rouges. I don’t smell any clan sents, then again I don’t know other clan sents that well.” He took another step back, not taking his eyes off the other strangers.
He realized he never gave his name. Should he give his name? Stop thinking! “Er, I’m Snakepaw.”
[ sorry if this is bad lol it’s almost midnight where I’m at and I’m tired. I had to change Viperpaw’s name to Snakepaw bc viper wasn’t an accepted prefix TVT @revelations; @antlers @Scallywagz @jupiter; ]
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Your friendly neighborhood otherkin.
Ping after 3 days
Seeing the confusion within the other tomcat’s face, the tall dark-furred oriental couldn’t help but feel rather guilty for being so goddamn awkward in front of Beastflame. He hadn’t expected anyone to find him out here, and the sudden need to be social overwhelmed Pikestar within the moment. It wasn’t the RiverClan warrior’s fault, nor was he upset for him checking up on him. He was just sorry for the sole fact that he was like this, on the edge of breaking apart and feeling like a glass sculpture on the verge of tipping over, bound to shatter into a million different pieces. A violent, messy image to imagine, but it was the wicked truth of the situation. Beastflame, of course, answered his instinctive apology with the expected response. Deep down, Pikestar knew there was no need for sorries, but he'd been conditioned for as long as he could remember to feel ashamed for everything he did. Thanks for that, mom.
Then, forgiveness came from the gray mackerel tabby, to which the longhaired oriental returned the dip of his head. They did not speak any further, not knowing what else to say as the guilt of this whole conversation gripped them tightly. He must’ve looked like such a fool right now and Beastflame was probably regretting even approaching him. He couldn’t help but let the usual harsh words circle his head, calling him a coward, burden, disappointment. Once again, Pikestar was being a victim and nothing more than a baby with a sob story. He didn’t dare let any of that show though, not anymore than it had already to his warrior. The River Lord allowed a small, but thankful smile to come to his expression as Beastflame accepted his simple request to take a walk with him back to camp. Silently, Pikestar would follow after him once the large tomcat walked away to pick up the prey he had caught out here.
Soon enough, Beastflame would turn back to him, making Pikestar realize he was to be expected to lead. Ah yes, right. Of course. He shifted his body in the direction that would surely lead the two of them back to camp, before settling into a calm, steady walk where the other tomcat could easily set a pace beside him. “Ah… Yeah, you could say that.” The Lord of the Waters said, tufted ears twitching to the RiverClan warrior and his question, attempting to break the awkward sheet of ice that was between them, “Things have kinda been a mess since…”Since my mate died. No, don’t say that. That’s way too morbid.“...since I became leader of RiverClan. I've been leader for over 7 moons, and I still don't feel comfortable in my role." It seemed like a stupid, pathetic thing to complain about, but he didn't know how else to describe it without going into deep detail and freaking Beastflame out with his personal problems. "I just want to be a good leader, and do the right thing. It's hard not having someone to tell you what to do all the time. Instead now I'm the one calling the shots." Pikestar sighed, shaking their head. "I never thought things would be this difficult."
Re: RiverClan Territory
Re: RiverClan Territory
