Fawnlight nodded as Lilyleaf wrapped up the leg. It wasn't the neatest job, but the former medicine cat didn't fault her Clanmate for it; she hadn't really been trained. It would certainly do it's job. Before she could say much it seemed the two were working on each others injuries. "Stay here and make sure she is alright, as well as yourself. I'll be back to check on you in a bit."
Leaving the side of them swiftly (and taking some of the cobwebs that had been brought to her) Fawnlight turned to see Whitesnake and Nightspark. Stars... she had to get to work quick. Quickly turning the marigold into a poultice she swatted at a nearby damp leaf (that had been stirred up from the surrounding forest during the battle and... maybe had a little blood splatter on it) to bring it closer, spreading the poultice on it. "Start applying this to the deepest wounds. Make sure it covers it fully. Once you're done, do your best to wrap him up. As long as its covered, he should live."
Hopefully her quick instructions were enough. Ears swiveling to the sound of sharp words, Fawnlight turned to look at Tinystorm. In a surprise twist, she found herself understanding where he was coming from. Any cat who wasn't wounded did need to go after the dogs (and save those who were seriously wounded from making the mistake of thinking they could take on even an injured dog). "At least take this." Limping over, one slightly shaking and scarred paw extended, Fawnlight held out a single poppy seed for the tom. Her gaze was hard, though a certain understanding shimmered from it. If he wanted to turn it away, he was welcome to; but it wouldn't stop her from offering.
"I would recommend you get those looked at, if Tawnythorn wouldn't mind helping me apply a wrap, but I won't force you." Words were softer now than they had been before. She had never been one to take pleasure in ordering cats around - not saying she wouldn't but there were times and places for it all.
"If I were tryin, you'd be crowfood." In reality, Tinystorm didn't have the energy to keep going. Paired with his previous wounds, the injuries from today sapped him completely. Darkness was tempting, the sweet bliss of rest after losing a bunch of blood. ".. let the others get handled first." Maybe it was bull-headed of him, but as far as he was concerned there were plenty of other cats who needed treatment before him. Some weren't going to see tomorrow.
He huffed against Tawnythorn's fur, half-lidded eyes staring dimly at Flamebriar. "'ppreciate you." At least she had some sense, he only hoped she'd put her claws where her mouth was unlike some cats. A few volunteered, but at this point he was more keyed into one thing. Gingerfrost.
Ice seeped into his voice. "don't waste your time groveling for permission. take charge for once." How the hell did RiverClan fall so low, where their own high ranks looked at each other for permission instead of handling things? "PROVE you deserve to lead our clan one day - because right now i don't see leaders. i see sheep."
If they acted less than they talked, a hell lot more would be done. He didn't understand how things had gotten this way - actually, he did. Kestrelstar's bad choice in deputies had cursed their Clan, because once he was gone...
Snorting, he shifted to shove Tawnythorn off him so he could head into the warriors' den. He was going to sleep. Stonepaw could wake him up later.
Quote:
"I would recommend you get those looked at, if Tawnythroat wouldn't mind helping me apply a wrap, but I won't force you." Words were softer now than they had been before. She had never been one to take pleasure in ordering cats around - not saying she wouldn't but there were times and places for it all.
Tawnythorn
Seemed like Tinystorm was giving up on his big dream to spread his brave warrior wings and save RiverClan from fleeing dogs. The natural conclusion of the feigned attack arrived as Tinystorm rolled, and Tawnythorn detached to peek at the damage: from the color of his fur, Tinystorm's .. influence was strong, and probably bleeding out gradually. Or worsened now that there wasn't pressure on the wounds.
"That's what everyone's in the process of doing, because you were trying hard to escape." Can't exactly give medical help to someone desperate to fight, but they were moving beyond that stage at last.
Tawnythorn's ears fell flat, shoulders stiffening with discomfort. It didn't occur to him that Fawnlight hadn't been malicious, already dismissing it as such following a lifetime of being called the wrong name intentionally. "Why don't you go look for Tawnythroat while I deal with this." Anyone with a functional paw could stick some cobwebs to a seeping wound. He shifted his gaze to Tinystorm as if to question if he'd permit that without immediately shaking them off or running into the forest on a wild dogchase, then expelled a sigh.
he hadn't even been battered by dog jaws and he was tired. pretty pathetic, but there was a job to do- a warrior refusing to care for himself properly so the task defaulted to everyone else. And Tawnythorn would lap it up to feel useful, like his life wasn't just a fleeting speck.
"Lay down and get comfortable in the warriors' den-" he said as his teeth closed around a portion of the wrapping to carry it with them.
Silversnow let the exhausting mask of bravery slip. She didn't care anymore. Sniffling, she buried her head into her dads shoulder, trying her best not to cry. "She's dead, Dad. Reedie is dead, a-and I don't know where Flintfang is. He ran off and I have this ache in my chest that tells me he's dead. I think my brother is dead." She whispered her words, wanting only Pikestar to hear them. She couldn't let anyone else see her so broken. At his question, the young molly nodded her head.
"I'll make sure all of them get the best damn funeral RiverClan had ever seen." It was a promise, not just to them, but to herself, as well. Wait. She pulled back from her dad, looking anxiously at all the bodies. Was Stormpaw among them? She couldn't be, right? Silversnow hadn't seen the other molly during the fighting. Hopefully she was still okay in the medicine den.
"Storm? Are you okay?" She called into the den, hoping for an answer.
__________________
once the strings are tied, you are nothing but a puppet
Fae/faer/moon/moonself/they/them
Characters | RP Tracker and Bump Policy
STAFF SIGN HERE
velli was here <3
dracarys - dani <3
dino dropped a stolen treasure chest here and ran
RiverClan ~Pretty white molly with pale gray and orange tortie markings and blue eyes~
—————— PebbleSplash had heard the loud crashing, the yells, and the sobs of her dear clan mates… The molly had only just returned from a traumatic experience and was allowed back into the clan. She was scared, Scared silly for them. PebbleSplash had been told to hide away from it, due to her injuries… The torbie molly wondered how everyone was holding up… As the noises came to an end, she held her breath, getting up from her spot in the warriors den…
The blue eyed molly exhaled loudly, shaking as she carefully stepped towards the entrance of the warriors den… PebbleSplash could smell the blood and, the death that would greet her out in the clearing. She debated turning around and going back to rest, knowing she’d see someone she’d never unsee. But, Her clan mates needed her, for she was rather close to being fully healed… She gulps down her anxiety and pads out of the den.
What she had saw shouldn’t have been of any surprise at all, but still, she gasped out of pure shock. She saw her dead classmates, she saw the dead dogs, she saw a lot of blood on the ground of the place she grew up in… PebbleSplash didn’t even have a second to think as her eyes already began to water. The pretty molly collapsed to the ground… She was devastated. The once beautiful, comforting camp looked like a blood covered slaughterhouse and it absolutely terrified her…
PebbleSplash begins to pant, looking around as she tried to think of something to do, or say, or hell, feel… She couldn’t form any words at all, let alone a sound… A million thoughts filled her head as she tried to find a comforting gaze from those in camp… She could only find a dull, scared look in the eyes of her dear clanmates… PebbleSplash wasn’t okay…
Nightspark growled weakly, his consciousness slowly returning back, he was very weak, to much blood had been lost, a second growl, a bit louder now, he slowly lifted his paw and moved her a bit, he opened slowly his eyes, but was blinded by the light, he was feeling something in his side, oh... yeah... freaking rock in his flank... He heard Fawnlight speak with Whitesnake, he mumbled something... it wasn't articulated at all...
Slatestripe battered the dogs' legs with the most vicious strikes he could manage. It wasn't comparable to what a proper warrior should be able to do, but rage drove him. The edges of his vision grew dark as he focused all his will on the dog, praying to whoever was listening that it would soon flee or collapse.
Fortunately, his prayers were quickly answered. With a string of pained yelps, the dog suddenly scampered away from Slatestripe's reach. He snarled as it fled, watching with blazing eyes as it sped out of camp and ran off into the woods.
For several seconds, the small warrior stood there, paws virtually rooted into the ground. It took about that long for the adrenaline to start to fade, and for his brain to register that Mintpool was still there.
Whirling around, he trained his eyes on her. Panic shot through him at the sight of the blood covering her. In one great leap, he closed the distance between them and began inspecting her for any injuries. "Are you okay? Is any of this your blood?"
┌────────── ∘・❄︎・∘ ──────────┐
Mintpool (she/her)
Riverclan ❍ 12 moons White and gray siamese with blue eyes
└───────── ・∘ ❄︎ ∘・ ─────────┘
Mintpool kept on swiping at the dog's belly until it rolled away and raged against Slatestripe. It was so fast that it looked like a dark, blurry silhouette without details but in a fraction of a second, it was gone. ...The hound.. has fled?
Mintpool let herself collapse on the ground gasping for air, exhausted from the fight. Soon, her former mentor was fussing over her asking about injuries and blood. She glanced at her, confused for a moment, then realized she was actually more stained than she'd noticed before.
"...Not really. It bit my scruff, but it's nothing. It's just.." There was something else more bothering, but she was sure it was nothing important. "The leg that the mink bit hurts. Anyway... Are you hurt?" She rose to her paws, limping slightly to the scarred foreleg to inspect the dark-striped tomcat's body.
The large calico slowly relaxed as the last of the dogs was chased out of camp. None of them had come near the elders' den, so she hadn't needed to get involved in the fray. Unfortunately, however, many cats had gotten injured, and Pikestar appeared to have lost a life. The cat she was most worried about at the moment, though, was Tinystorm. It seemed that Tawnythorn was barely managing to keep him from charging after the rest of the dogs.
"I'll go," she stated firmly as she padded up to the two toms. Flamebriar had volunteered to go on the first patrol to chase the dogs out that never happened. She had assumed that Pikestar had taken other cats to fight them. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Any uninjured warriors who would like to go with me to make sure the dogs have left the territory, please gather here. I will be leaving shortly!"
[Open for noninjured cats to head to Sleepy Thicket with Flamebriar. There are mos likely 3-4 dogs still there, as that's where they have been living. This patrol will head out on 4/13]
Featherflame nodded at the others. "I will go and defeat these beasts once and for all!"
Kestrelpaw looked over at Flamebriar. "I'll go," she said, turning to her brother. "Stay here. Make sure Aunt Lilycreek and Bluebellpaw are okay. Make sure you're okay too." She wasn't going to have Larkpaw get hurt.
Goosecurl | They/Them She/Her
Short smoked tabby with a cream underbelly and pale yellow eyes
—
Goosecurl was tired, just dog tired. After the dog battle they’d felt a significant pain in their ribs and had been dealing with the wound on their paw, on top of that? They had begun to feel a bout of sickness coming on- and. Of course. The main attraction? They were pregnant. There was no denying it now. The discomfort during sleeping, the overheating, the constant hunger. It was getting to the point that Goose would have to move into the nursery… did they despise the idea? More than they could even explain.
So Goose was sitting indignantly outside of the warriors den, having recovered from a particularly difficult and wheezy walk from their nest. Sitting, staring out into the crowd of cats that were clamouring to get into patrols and get going for the day. Not them. No. Red hot irritation kept them in place.
Re: RiverClan Clearing
