Frostpaw let out a squeak of alarm as her paws were swept under her and she tumbled onto her stomach. Shock showed in her ice-blue eyes as she layed ther for a few moments before jumping to her feet and taking a defensive posture.
Just because she was hesitant to fight didn't mean she wouldn't defend herself it wouldn't help her clan if she died...she wasn't ready to join mother and mabye Ryekit yet.
The young she-cat was surprised at the enemy apprentice's taunt but she wouldn't just stand there and take it, it wasn't Windclan who was asking for a fight "I-It's not our faults we didn't want a fight! Twilightstar was willing to talk but Beanstar just killed her before she could even get a word out!" she yowled desperately it was true!
Oh no, oh no!! As Windcats lunged into the clearing, lashing out and attacking all those they could see, Snowpaw found herself frozen. She didn't know what to do! Gingercat hadn't shown her how to do anything yet! Her ears flattened against her head, eyes widening in fear. Why were the Windcats attacking? There were still so many hurties that were healing from the Thundercats!! Snowpaw felt a whimper rise in her throat, entire body trembling. All she could do was lower herself to the ground, flattening down and trying to cover her ears. The sound of battle was terrifying.
[ Open for a RiverClanner to take her to safety! ]
[ I do not want her battling or getting injured. Thank you! ]
<><><><><>
*-Larkwing-*
She/her | 16 moons A sleek dilute tortie she-cat with green eyes
Scanning the crowd of battling cats for anyone she could help, anyone at all, Larkwing's eyes fell onto an apprentice who looked terrified to even be here, likely she didn't have training, or, equally as likely, she had never seen battle before and was terrified of the sights. Maybe both. Larkwing herself had only been in her first battle... how long ago was it? Had they even had a day to rest after Cattail Pond? Had it merely been a few hours since then? It wasn't fair. Was the whole of RiverClan really being punished for what Beansprout did, and how Gingerfrost covered up his lie?
She hadn't originally felt so bitter about it, perhaps she was just shocked from the news at the time and hadn't properly processed it. But now... stars it hadn't even been that long since the reveal of it all happened... but now she was starting to feel the anger at their former "leader" rise up into her throat like bile. She didn't blame WindClan for this attack. Part of her wanted to rip them to shreds too, to claw at Gingerfrost's face and tear apart Beansprouts corpse for the lies they had told them all. Was Gingerfrost really fit to lead them all? He had aided in the lie so did that not make him just as bad?
'Shut up, Lark, focus on right now,' she scolded herself, it wouldn't help anyone if she got swirled away in her mind like an untrained kit in a rushing river. Shaking herself away from that spiral of internal monologue, Larkwing rushed into the fray to block the fearful apprentice from attack. "C'mon!" She urged as she closed the distance, still limping from her previous fight. Nudging the young cat in the side with her head before quickly looking around, making sure no WindClan warrior was closing in on them, she urged again, "c'mon, this way!"
The scent of fish was heavy in the breeze, letting the dainty molly know they weren't in WindClan anymore. Normally trespassing in such a fashion would be beneath her. She had no wish to encroach in territory that was so different to their beloved moors and fields. And yet here she was, with a single thought in mind. To kill Beanstar. She would be the last thing that dreadful tom saw before he woke up by Twilightstar's paws. Because make no mistake, a single life was not enough. He would lose them all. That would be a worthy price to pay for daring to attack and kill their own leader using such underhanded tactics, so openly disregarding the code.
And yet it was with frustration that the former queen realized that Beanstar was nowhere to be found. Hackles raised as her bloodlust went unchecked, menacing blue eyes landed on the next position of power. On the next that dared lead this pathetic band of rogues. Because that's what they were if they couldn't even keep their leader - the one chosen by the stars themselves - in check. Rushing into the fray as she spotted Gingerfrost calling for RiverClan's defense, Dapplebreeze found herself foiled, interrupted by a scrap of a cat. It was a mere swat, easy to avoid in her current, adrenaline riddled state, yet it was enough for her focus to be shifted to this warrior instead. If he wished to stop WindClan's rightful vengeance to be taken, then he could suffer with the rest of them.
Turning to face her attacker, the patched molly snarled, anger blinding her to the obvious. To how this was an inexperienced warrior. To how much younger than her he was. All she heard was the hissing. All she saw was the enemy as she sprang forth, claws unsheathed as she used her speed to her advantage, aiming to sprint to the cat's side and box his ear. Despite her claws being displayed for all to see, shredding was not her intention here, but to give a sharp, distracting pain that would hopefully allow for a better opening. A more punishing strike.
Graytail was relatively unscathed from the flooding. However that didn't mean she wanted to fight. First Thunderclan taking Cattail Pond, now Windclan Ambushing them? "DAMN YOU. DAMN YOU ALL." She screeched before leaping out into the fray to fight.
[Open]
~ WOLFFANG OF WINDCLAN ~
Large, muscular, dappled gray tom with light fluff on the front of his neck and chest; amber eyes.
Before the Battle
As they trekked through RiverClan territory, Wolffang remained alert, his single notched ear pricked to pick up any suspicious sounds. He was incredibly focused, though unease and disgust wormed through him as they traversed the foreign lands. It was so wet underpaw. Mud squelched, and moisture sank into his paws and ankles. It was incredibly unpleasant. WindClan cats belonged on dry ground, not here. And the stench... Fish and soggy soil permeated the air. It almost made Wolffang sick. But he remained stoic, face grave as every sense strained for signs of their enemies. His amber eyes gleamed with the prospect of vengeance. The only sign of his discomfort was the disgusted curl of his lip.
Finally, RiverClan cats came into sight. Wolffang blinked, the only sign of his shock. They weren't staying in a proper camp at all. The space looked... thrown together. Makeshift. And the RiverClan cats didn't look so good, either. Something must've happened. Beanstar decided to cause war with his Clan in this state? Wolffang's anger and disgust toward the RiverClan leader deepened.
But that was RiverClan's problem, not WindClan's. WindClan had shown enough mercy. They needed to take their revenge.
During the Battle
(I will be using dino.'s dice system with the following modifications/things to take into account:
- Skill level. If I roll a 1 or another odd number, but it isn't realistic for my character to get hit [ex. a senior warrior against a new apprentice], that will be taken into account. The same goes if I roll a 20 or another even number, and it's unrealistic for my character to dodge the blow.
- Plans/things we've already talked out.
- The severity of the blow will be determined by how high/low a roll is. This depends on the blow itself; i.e. if it's something that can have an altered severity. For example, a 5 will be worse for my character than a 19. As mentioned above, this only applies to some blows.)
As soon as Fallownose gave the order to attack, Wolffang plunged into the fray. Chaos reigned as moor-runners and river-swimmers collided with screeches and yowls. Already, blood-scent was flowing into the air. Wolffang prayed that none of his Clanmates obtained any serious injuries. His claws itched. He had to fight, to tear fur and flesh and make these fish-eaters pay. They were already a sore spot for him, considering one of their warriors had tried to drown him during that ridiculous "playdate" event.
A loud yowl caught Wolffang's attention. His head snapped around. A gray tabby she-cat was screeching angrily at the WindClan invaders. It made his blood boil. You dare say this to us after what Beanstar did? Though if Beanstar had lied to his Clanmates... They'd have to make them see the truth.
Wolffang didn't want to alert the RiverClan warrior to his position. He darted around, making sure the sun was at his back so it would blind her if she tried to look directly at him. Then he lunged forward, attempting to pin her to the ground.
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Some of my characters think or act in ways I disagree with. Please understand that I do not support or condone these thoughts or actions.
Mousefern wasn't a fan of violence, no, she never was. She liked peace, and she enjoyed keeping it that way, but... Riverclan's leader had murdered her own. She believed that the true target here was Beanstar–unaware that the tom was already well on his way to Starclan or... Wherever he wound up–and the entirety of Riverclan was directly in the way of that target, of course.
As the battle raged around her, for a moment she just stood there, stunned. By the looks of it, something bad had already happened to Riverclan. Perhaps Starclan had already taken care of Beanstar and given him and his clan a great taste of karma for his actions. Was this even the right thing to do anymore, then? Her tail puffed up behind her, splaying out until her tail looked absurdly large in comparison to the rest of her small body. This isn't right, no, this just couldn't be right–
No, Mousefern, we must. We must defend. Defend, defend, defend.
Her grey-blue eyes dragged over her clanmates and their foes until they landed on a particularly concerning site–one that made her blood boil. Puddleburr. Mousefern's eyes which usually held so much gentle kindness clouded with rage, a darkening storm lighting up within that wasn't often seen from someone like her. That fishface injured Puddleburr badly. An agonizing injury that made her skin crawl just by the sight of the blood alone. Who's to say that her clanmate would even be able to survive it?
We must... What must we do? Defend? No, avenge. Avenge them. Avenge them, avenge them, avenge them.
Despite knowing that she was smaller than this tom, she still approached anyway. While he was shouting about vengeance and fury, she was stalking up behind him, lips curling back into a soundless snarl. Without a second thought or concern about the fact that she'd definitely walk out of this scuffle with an injury, she launched herself high up into the air with the intent to land on Nightspark's bag, claws unsheathed in hopes of digging them into his flesh.
[ @WhiteDawn angry little lady has arrived,, also sorry for how long it is haha, the rest of my responses will be shorter ]
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Bump Policy: 72 hours! Often inactive on weekends!
Drizzlecloud Midnightpath Smolderpaw Seedkit
The molly had been crossing the area when the small bundle of fur stumbled into her legs. Her pale green eyes looking down at the trembling kit, What has caused this kit such fear? A bit startled Hazelpaw leaned down, her tail twitching in confusion but wariness.
She recognized this kit..Minkkit? Yes, that was her name. "MinkKit?" her gaze followed the small she-kits. Staring at the sky, where the sun was high and fiery as always,
she couldn't look long due to the brightness. She kept her balance, taking a slow breath as she replied soothingly, "The Sun? Why would it be angry?"
Now wasn't the time to be out, especially this kit. But they were isolated, so she had time to sooth this frightened ball of fur
[Thats alright! It is interesting and usually the apps and kits roleplays are usually of them playing so this is new and intriguing!]
"The sun." She repeated. Pale blue hues widened further with happiness when the apprenticed seemed to take her seriously. Her breathing came faster as she shuffled into Hazelpaw's shadow, taking refuge from the sun. Already, from the brief few seconds she'd spent in the sun, her eyelids were burning, causing the little female to whimper with quiet pain.
"The sun hates me." She whispered despairingly. "Now look. It's sent Sunwarriors to attack RiverClan." Minkkit tried to grab ahold of Hazelpaw's tail and tug her away. "You need to hide." She begged, looking towards the invading WindClan warriors with fear. Already, battle had sprung out around them, cats' yowls piercing the air. "Pleasepleaseplease? I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me anymore. The sun is always so angry at me, it burns my eyes." Worrying her lip, the smaller-than-average, runt of a kitten offered her companion a beseeching look.
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❝ Leaving them feeling betrayed.
Breaking the bonds that you've made. ❞
Mousefern wasn't a fan of violence, no, she never was. She liked peace, and she enjoyed keeping it that way, but... Riverclan's leader had murdered her own. She believed that the true target here was Beanstar–unaware that the tom was already well on his way to Starclan or... Wherever he wound up–and the entirety of Riverclan was directly in the way of that target, of course.
As the battle raged around her, for a moment she just stood there, stunned. By the looks of it, something bad had already happened to Riverclan. Perhaps Starclan had already taken care of Beanstar and given him and his clan a great taste of karma for his actions. Was this even the right thing to do anymore, then? Her tail puffed up behind her, splaying out until her tail looked absurdly large in comparison to the rest of her small body. This isn't right, no, this just couldn't be right–
No, Mousefern, we must. We must defend. Defend, defend, defend.
Her grey-blue eyes dragged over her clanmates and their foes until they landed on a particularly concerning site–one that made her blood boil. Puddleburr. Mousefern's eyes which usually held so much gentle kindness clouded with rage, a darkening storm lighting up within that wasn't often seen from someone like her. That fishface injured Puddleburr badly. An agonizing injury that made her skin crawl just by the sight of the blood alone. Who's to say that her clanmate would even be able to survive it?
We must... What must we do? Defend? No, avenge. Avenge them. Avenge them, avenge them, avenge them.
Despite knowing that she was smaller than this tom, she still approached anyway. While he was shouting about vengeance and fury, she was stalking up behind him, lips curling back into a soundless snarl. Without a second thought or concern about the fact that she'd definitely walk out of this scuffle with an injury, she launched herself high up into the air with the intent to land on Nightspark's bag, claws unsheathed in hopes of digging them into his flesh.
[ @WhiteDawn angry little lady has arrived,, also sorry for how long it is haha, the rest of my responses will be shorter ]
Nightspark
RiverClan Lionheart Purrks: Just a scratch (permanently active), Rapid Recovery (permanently active)
He was looking for an enemy when he felt something bump on his back, he turned the head to see that a smaller warrior had jumped on his back and dug his claws in his flesh, Nightspark fell little to no pain and threw the cat off him, he rolled his elbows, totally unfazed by the blood driping from the claws marks in his back, his eyes filled with zeal fell on the cat as he rose to his full height, the massive Lionheart said "RiverClan will resist and bite! We shall never fall! StarClan protect your sons and daughters and punish their enemies for their sins!", as he advanced, he felt that the blood on his back was already starting to clot, slowly but surely...
Large, muscular, dappled gray tom with light fluff on the front of his neck and chest; amber eyes.
Before the Battle
As they trekked through RiverClan territory, Wolffang remained alert, his single notched ear pricked to pick up any suspicious sounds. He was incredibly focused, though unease and disgust wormed through him as they traversed the foreign lands. It was so wet underpaw. Mud squelched, and moisture sank into his paws and ankles. It was incredibly unpleasant. WindClan cats belonged on dry ground, not here. And the stench... Fish and soggy soil permeated the air. It almost made Wolffang sick. But he remained stoic, face grave as every sense strained for signs of their enemies. His amber eyes gleamed with the prospect of vengeance. The only sign of his discomfort was the disgusted curl of his lip.
Finally, RiverClan cats came into sight. Wolffang blinked, the only sign of his shock. They weren't staying in a proper camp at all. The space looked... thrown together. Makeshift. And the RiverClan cats didn't look so good, either. Something must've happened. Beanstar decided to cause war with his Clan in this state? Wolffang's anger and disgust toward the RiverClan leader deepened.
But that was RiverClan's problem, not WindClan's. WindClan had shown enough mercy. They needed to take their revenge.
During the Battle
(I will be using dino.'s dice system with the following modifications/things to take into account:
- Skill level. If I roll a 1 or another odd number, but it isn't realistic for my character to get hit [ex. a senior warrior against a new apprentice], that will be taken into account. The same goes if I roll a 20 or another even number, and it's unrealistic for my character to dodge the blow.
- Plans/things we've already talked out.
- The severity of the blow will be determined by how high/low a roll is. This depends on the blow itself; i.e. if it's something that can have an altered severity. For example, a 5 will be worse for my character than a 19. As mentioned above, this only applies to some blows.)
As soon as Fallownose gave the order to attack, Wolffang plunged into the fray. Chaos reigned as moor-runners and river-swimmers collided with screeches and yowls. Already, blood-scent was flowing into the air. Wolffang prayed that none of his Clanmates obtained any serious injuries. His claws itched. He had to fight, to tear fur and flesh and make these fish-eaters pay. They were already a sore spot for him, considering one of their warriors had tried to drown him during that ridiculous "playdate" event.
A loud yowl caught Wolffang's attention. His head snapped around. A gray tabby she-cat was screeching angrily at the WindClan invaders. It made his blood boil. You dare say this to us after what Beanstar did? Though if Beanstar had lied to his Clanmates... They'd have to make them see the truth.
Wolffang didn't want to alert the RiverClan warrior to his position. He darted around, making sure the sun was at his back so it would blind her if she tried to look directly at him. Then he lunged forward, attempting to pin her to the ground.
- Graytail rolled a 6 (Rolled with advantage)! Miss! -
Yowling was everywhere and Graytail couldn't hear the larger tom darting toward her until Wolffang was right near her. The Sun! She couldn't look at him. How Smart. Her slim body, however, made it easier to escape the running dappled tom. Claws unsheathed, she whipped around and aimed to attack. Eyes glued on his face, Graytail snarled, her canines sharp and ready to deliver a blow if needed.
She stung a swift -yet strong- paw toward her attacker. Aiming to hit his shoulder with her unsheathed and deadly weapons. Her claws. "You damn Cats have no mercy! First you initiated Battle on the border. Now it's war over a border skirmish? You're no worse than those Thunderclan weasels!" A low growl resonated from her throat.
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velli was here with lots of spray paint
marshall snuck around
Reply lengths/time depends purely on my Motivation, please be patient as I have Dysgraphia and ADD [adhd without the h] The Awaiting Horrors... [KNY RP] | Dragcave
please feed my beautiful ampharos some berries (also so i can get dp but :3)
No.
Rabbiteye paused before he dashed into the clearing with the rest of his clan. He wanted a moment of stillness, when he could prepare himself before jumping into action, a calm before the storm of fire burst through the dam. He would release all his fury into the cats of RiverClan, show them what it meant to take a life from their beloved leader. His dark blue hues flashed and his moment was over. Anger poured from his chest, fueling his limbs with extra strength. It flowed into his claws and teeth, eager to spill out as blood from his enemy's flank. The usually solitary warrior was now a raging ball of brown fur that spat and hissed. He locked onto a target and leaped at them.
This was it. Webpaw had training for battle, but not enough. It would never be enough. He needed to use his skills for real. And this was it. He could fight without any hold back at all, make them hurt, make them bleed. He wanted to hurt them, and this was it. The dark tom charged forward, hate all he could see. RiverClan would rise, WindClan would drown.
Blizzardnight screeched. They were being invaded! I need to get the kits out of here! She thought. But what about my kits? They would probably be in battle now, those that were still around. They would have to fend for themselves now, though. The dark queen started to help get kits out.
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Ain't much that I know what to put 'ere...
"And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies." - Haymitch
Mousefern dug her claws into the tom’s back with the intention to stay there, but he seemed to easily throw her off. Landing on the ground with a thump, she rolled over onto her stomach and sprang back up and onto her paws, tail lashing behind her. As he spoke his odd words, confusing her on top of being enraged, she dug her claws into the ground below.
“You’re so hypocritical–you’ve got a murderous leader running rampant!” Mousefern spat at the tom, but she didn’t have much time to say anything else as he was already fast approaching. He was big, far larger than she was, so she really had to try and land blows to weak spots–if she could manage. Maybe if she were quick and landed small successful blows, she’d be able to whittle him down? Who knows. It was worth a shot. In one quick movement, she darted towards the tom, springing towards him again with both of her paws outstretched before her, aiming to land both of them on his muzzle, claws unsheathed. Hoping to scratch at his face or, in the best case scenario, slam his head against the ground using her entire body’s force.