With the stress Twilightstar must be under, Fallownose figured he should take the matter of reclaiming WindClan's territory from ThunderClan into his own paws. Bumblestar had agreed to give it to them at the previous Gathering, so he wasn't expecting trouble. Still, he would take enough cats that if there was they wouldn't be instantly slaughtered, but not enough to be deemed a threat.
"Those of you who are not busy, I need five cats to accompany me to the Thunderglade to move the border. For those who weren't at the most recent Gathering, Bumblestar agreed to give us the territory that Flintstar stole from us around fourty-six moons ago. Apprentices aged nine moons and up are welcome to volunteer, but I will only be taking a maximum of two and you must have battle training. If you're interested, say so now as I plan to head out as soon as I have enough cats."
[OPEN - this is first come first serve unless Fallow hates you]
MEMBERS: Crowtooth, Softsong, Hawkfur, Bravebird
- Applefrost - ?/250
He/him | 20 moons | WindClan
The gray tomcat's ears pricked when he heard the deputy call out for some cats that weren't busy. It was cold and he didn't want to go outside, but honestly it's not like he had anything better to do than this. With a tilt of his head he moved over, giving a little dip of his head.
"I can come along, if you don't mind," he mewed after briefly eyeing the other cats.
✩。°°。✩ 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 ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
He's tired. It wears on him like a ill-fitted pelt, goes into his very bones. The tiredness had always been present, long since wiggled its way into his soul but now it is apparent. His clanmates have mostly said their goodbyes, stepping away and departing. The yelling ceasing, the fights for him to stay or such yield no results. His vision is blurry, all Cowtuft can do is focus on a small patch of grass where the snow hadn't quite fallen. Perhaps a cat had been sitting there, protecting it from the weather.
(He never liked the cold. )
His black and white tail hangs down, touching the ground. He blinks drearily, trying to drag his mind through the hazy fog. His floppy ears perk up at someone asking a question, it's not directed to him but he tries to look. An orange tabby, Firestorm, he thinks? She doesn't move to leave however, and Lightningstorm (from the process of elimination) soon joins them. It seems like this would be his goodbye.
Cowtuft reckons its fitting. It's better, more than his victims got. They didn't get to say goodbye. He turns around, looking back - taking one last final glance of the camp. He tries to cement it to memory, taking in every crook and nanny. His gaze lingers on his den for the longest. He hadn't got to clean it this moon. He hopes Lightningstorm doesn't mind. He did his best to keep his nest tidy.
,,, he takes a shaky breath and turns away. He moves forward despite it all. Every pawstep he wants to reject, he was leaving his home. These were his last moments, and he did not know how to cherish them properly. Instead, Cowtuft is quiet and follows behind Twilightstar.
Dunecall
Windclan
40 moons old | he/him The Collector
Dunecall was staring right at Cowtuft's white and black fur; he was turned the other way, ready to depart, following Twilightstar outside only her and Starclan know where.
He had observed Cowtuft's whole career in Windclan, since he was only a little kit and Dunecall was still a young warrior.
Cowtuft... you dedicated your whole life to these cats. Was it really your fault, if your clanmates joined Starclan? Was it Starclan's will that you left the only home you'd ever known?
Dunecall had always been skeptical about the whole suspected ordeal, and never once had he believed the medicine cat could have made such terrible mistakes.
...Maybe, it was just destiny. he thought, while he realized consciously that his paws were guiding him to the cats who were leaving camp. One of them, for the last time in his life.
Dunecall was slowly, silently following the pair to the tunnel of leaves and branches that marked the entrance of their camp. Heather, wilted shrubs protected them but could not avoid the destiny of the former medicine cat.
He breathed in and out, letting the condensed air form little clouds in the coldness of this day. "Goodbye, Cowtuft... May Starclan light your path, always." He whispered as a pray, as the two disappeared behind the plant walls.
How had Lightningstorm coped with all of this? Dunecall scolded himself for not having checked on the young she-cat in the last weeks. That poor girl... I hope she's ready to take on such a duty, all alone.
He raised his head to the sky, which was becoming quickly gray. A bringer of rain, he thought with sadness. Was Starclan crying for Cowtuft?
Dunecall couldn't let this thought out of his mind.
Bravebird
She/her | 41 moons | Beefed Up T3 • One with the Warren
Whiskers twitched as Crowtooth revealed he had just recalled that memory - on the Sky Glade no less. It was rather peculiar, because that was the exact spot that Bravebird had recalled the harrowing battle - along with Twilightstar and WindClan in general. "You sure did. Took a life from her," she purred at the mention of him ripping into Dawnstar. It had been glorious retribution, striking the massive rat down and making her see that WindClan wasn't a Clan to be walked all over.
She was curious about his eyes and how they remained screwed shut, but after a bit of thinking it made sense. She wasn't sure how long he had spent down in the tunnels, but even after a short trip down there the sun could prove to be a little brighter than what was comfortable. "I did help carry you home, yes, after that battle." Despite the protest of her own wounds, which had landed her a several day stint in the medicine den afterwards.
His next memory had her eyes widening in surprise. Along with remembering her mother Dapplebreeze, she also had an influx of memories of when she had been a kit, playing in the nursery with her brother. And there, faint but still reachable, was a smaller size of the tom before her. She was chasing him around, trying desperately to catch his tail. "Hey, it's not my fault it looked like a piece of prey," she joked lightly, stomping her paw in mock irritation. "We played a lot in the nursery. I do remember your breathing was... a lot better then, yeah..."
Lots of things to recall of being young. "It's strange... I haven't met anyone else who's lost their memories. When I... I mean, when I clawed my way out of StarClan after dying on the cliffs..." a memory she didn't wish to relive so she didn't linger long, "...I had no memory of who I was, or WindClan, or anything. Fallownose found me half-starved out on the moors, brought me back home. Since then I've been slowly getting my memories back..." A soft sigh came from her as she shook her head with a chuckle. "It's not all that easy though, as I'm sure you know."
Well Crowtooth was proper sulking now, he did not look like a piece of prey! "Piece o' prey my butt.... I hope a skunk got got ya later fer thinking a black creature wit' a white stripe is prey. Tch." What an amusing sight it must have made, for such a large and scarred fearsome warrior to be puffed up all big and offended like a prideful apprentice but it was definitely the look he gave off.
Still, eventually he shook himself off and rasped. "Yeah, my breathin' only really got bad when I hit five moons old.... Spent all the way ta my apprenticeship in the medicine cats den after that...." Not a pleasant memory to gain, of how he suffered alone and forgotten, ignored by Coyotesnarl as his throat nearly killed him, while being in the medicine cats den. This time was better now though, Lighteningstorm and Cowtuft treated him well as he recovered from his stint in the dark and it seems the new camp and dens had faded some trauma linked to the location.
"We're ya there when I collapsed? Can' remember 't well but I just wonder who found me..... Ma was long dead at that point but wasn' someone there?" What a stupid thought though, and irrelevant at that point. What did it matter if no one cat was watching over Crowtooth after Larkthroat died, he was alive here now. "Nevermind."
"Lucky that ya remembered when ya did then. 'm glad o' 't. Memory seems a finicky thin' from what 'm learnin'." Really Crowtooth didnt understand it at all but that prompting could trigger things but he didnt need to. "We're not the only one though. Scorchedfang, a new member, came ta us wit' iffy memories an' seems ta be doin' well. An' apparently Coldamber, an old medicine cat I remember vaguely, lost 'er memory from a blow similarly, but I don' know what happened ta her......" All Twilightstar said was that she was 'gone' and to be honest it felt best to not pry when hearing that.
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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!
Bravebird
She/her | 41 moons | Beefed Up T3 • One with the Warren
Amusement glowed in her eyes as Crowtooth scoffed at being mistaken for prey. If she squinted her eyes and didn't know the tom before her as a Clanmate, she wasn't sure she was wrong. He did look rather close to a stink with all that black fur and the single white stripe going up and over his forehead. Yeah, they had been friends in the nursery the longer she thought about it... and now here they were seasons later, all grown up and yet sharing the same kithood memory.
Scrunching her nose up in thought, Brave couldn't recall this new memory that her friend spoke of. There when he collapsed...? "No, I don't think I was," she admitted earnestly, glancing away briefly. Truth was, when she had neared her apprenticeship and started her training, the lilac warrior hadn't really kept many close relationships outside of her family and Peachfrost. It was something she was trying to change now that she was back. Gather more close relationships.
Moving onto the memory topic she gave a nod. It was rather lucky - most of her memories had been returned to her, and though she still felt different from the cat who had died on the cliffs all those moons ago, she at least remembered who she was. "Oh?" Scorchedfang... that name didn't ring a bell but perhaps she'd seek whoever they were out, see what memories they had and which they didn't. "Coldamber, I remember her," Brave stated, then blinked. "I can't say I know either. I never interacted with her that much outside of the stunts that landed me in the medicine den." Which there had been quite a few of.
Shaking off the cobwebs of the past as she shook her pelt, Brave let out an exhale. The weather was changing into leaf-bare territory and her fur, while fluffy, wasn't thick enough to ward off the chilly breeze completely. "Well, at any rate, it's good to have you back and in WindClan. Hopefully in time your memories start coming back to you." Since his eyes were closed and he likely wouldn't be able to see if she grinned at him, Brave lifted her tail to tap it against his shoulder in a gentle manner.
[ @Rani - i figured we could start wrapping up their first meeting here? perhaps later on down the line we could come up with a plot or something to help crow get back more of his memories if you're open to it ]
Basilthroat and Dovegrowl laid under a small bush.
(I just put this here since I don't want them going missing)
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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
Snow was pretty. That is what Brightpaw decided, and she was going to enjoy playing in it. Quite what she was going to do, she wasn't so decisive with. There were a lot of possibilities, but they would all be a lot more fun if there was another cat about. She couldn't see any nearby apprentices, and none that she knew, anyway. She didn't feel like nipping back in the den to fetch somebody; the inner warmth might not let her go. So what was this poor apprentice to do? She heaped some snow into a bound idly.
Snow wasn't like sand, well, not dry sand; snow stuck in the same place. This gave her an idea. If there wasn't any real cats about for her to play with, then could she possibly make her own? Brain sparked, the tan-and-white she-cat quickly began gathering piles of snow, heaping them over to make a kind of oblong mound, then add a roundish blob as a head and a few long thin bits as legs. She stood back to view her work, then gave a cackle. "You look like you just fell out of a tree! Which is why-" she started on the tail, "we don't climb. There." She cocked her head. "I think I am missing something."
*** [Open]
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Ain't much that I know what to put 'ere...
"And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies." - Haymitch
' you're missing the eyes. ' lilackit mumbled around the two rocks she was carrying, good ear flicking as she wobbled up to brightpaw. snow caked around her small paws to the point she was almost buried in it.
' here! ' she deposited the two eyes and then pawed one haphazardly into the snow-cat.
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' you appear familiar dear
(you look just like my bathroom mirror) '
' you're missing the eyes. ' lilackit mumbled around the two rocks she was carrying, good ear flicking as she wobbled up to brightpaw. snow caked around her small paws to the point she was almost buried in it.
' here! ' she deposited the two eyes and then pawed one haphazardly into the snow-cat.
Brightpaw
She/her - Age:... Something cheery?
Brightpaw looked over to the kit and smiled. She hadn't realised someone was watching her. "So I am!" Brightpaw giggled, picking up the second stone and fitting it wonkely into place beside the other. "Now that you mention it, I seem to have forgotten a lot of the other facial features too. It has no ears!" She screeched, and began clumping together some snow over it's head, in a place where she thought an ear might belong. "I am not very good at this," she laughed.
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Ain't much that I know what to put 'ere...
"And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies." - Haymitch
lilackit giggled, pawing uncertainly at the snow. ' it's interestin', isn't it? ' she meowed, finding a small puddle that had frozen over. ' leaf-bare, an' snow. ' curiously, she stepped a paw onto it- and it cracked under her foot.
she skittered back at the cold, hissing. ' whoa! it's so cold! ' lilackit flexed her paw, which was turning quickly numb. she licked her paw-fur the opposite way to attempt to warm it up, grumbling at the numbness.
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' you appear familiar dear
(you look just like my bathroom mirror) '