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July 11th, 2024, 06:51 PM
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![TheNyanCatMinecart's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=11285&dateline=1700775796) |
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The Fallen Hero [P]
Fresh green grass rippled in a chilly breeze, nurtured by the bright sun that cast the world in warmth and highlighted the delicate stalks in gold. Splashes of pale purple, explosive yellow, and deep red decorated the broad moor. The flowers perfumed the air with their own scent, sending forth sweet plumes that mingled with the grass' earthy growth in an elegant dance of nature.
These plants would not be here forever. They would grow brittle and depraved as frost nipped at them with merciless teeth. Then they'd crumble and brown, lost forever under a blanket of snow. And yet they would not disappear. The rain and the sun would coax new shoots from the soil once the chill let up. Even though the vegetation died, there would always be more to continue the never-ending cycle.
The sky was different. It stretched on forever, an infinite expanse of light blue that sung whenever someone dared to look up. No seasons killed it; there was no need for it to die and regenerate. It had been that way since the beginning of time. Yes, the sky could change - clouds could cover it, white or gray or even black - but it was still the sky. Today, it was patchy, light gray clouds fighting with the infinite blue for their own space, dappled light and shadow flitting over the moor.
The sky would always affect the plants, no matter how far apart they were. It sent forth rain and wind, snow and lightning. It helped the grass grow or smothered it in endless sorrows.
For the Clans were those plants, and the sky was their ancestors.
The moors and the skies had seen much. They had bore witness to many tragedies. Today was no different.
The first signs lurked in a sheltered, shady spot. A few casually placed trees loomed over a flat expanse of grass, darkening the stems with their shadows and blocking the relentless wind that brushed the landscape. However, some pleasant sunbeams poured in through the open spaces, their warmth hanging in the air. It was quite a pleasant place.
It would be, if not for the stenches hanging in the air.
[CONTENT WARNING: From this point forward, there will be graphic descriptions of corpses from cat and prey.]
Rotting crow-food. Fresh blood. Recent death. Coyote.
The myriad of odors led to a rather strange and ghastly sight. A heap of something rotting - an unidentifiable animal, huge for prey but medium-sized when compared to other creatures - lay in the grass. Several large bites were taken out of it. If investigated, the teeth marks would resemble a large canine's.
Not far from that lay Wolffang's body. His limbs were splayed, teeth bared in a final snarl, all 18 claws extended. The enamel and keratin glinted in the fleeting sunlight. His amber eyes had clouded over, and yet they exuded determination, narrowed into slits that burned with a residual fire. However, if one were to look closely, they would be able to see the tear tracks carved down the sides of his broad face. If only they could see into his mind, where one final image was burned: a beautiful snowy-white she-cat adorned with light brown bengal spots and captivating copper eyes.
The warrior was great even in death, large and muscular, broad and sturdy, finely toned with no excess fat. However, he had been disgraced, mangled by the ferocious beast that claimed his life. One of his front legs was mangled, the bone severed so that it was nearly snapped in two. His throat was ripped out and his chest torn, light cream-gray chest fluff scattered about like dandelion seeds - though the latter injury was not deep. The fluff had protected his chest, but not his throat. Deep bite wounds decorated his flank and hind leg.
The coyote had fought to kill, but luckily, it had decided that the nearby carrion was tastier and left when it had its fill. Wolffang had received all of his wounds in life, not after.
His dappled gray fur was coated in crimson. Some of the blood had dried into a dark crust, but most lay puddled around him in dark pools, wafting a metallic stench into the air. It was beginning to be traced by death's gentle touch.
Yet there was something else, amid the blood and death and coyote. Many traces of unidentifiable scents, but one thing powered above all.
The stench of a certain she-cat who had once stained WindClan with her poisonous views.
She had left a gift, too.
A single red rose that matched her brother's blood, dropped right in front of his eyes.
@Alchemist Kitsune [Dapplebreeze] @gs29513 [Deadmoon] @Moonraven [Batglare] @Undertaker [Leechscar] @Rani [Crowtooth] [Wolffang will contact them later, after they've all discovered his body. The coyote has also left the area but is still on WindClan territory. For now, all the patrol will find is his body, the large piece of carrion, the lingering scents, and, of course, Rosebriar's "gift."]
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July 14th, 2024, 07:52 PM
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![Undertaker's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=10704&dateline=1708293527) |
Moonraven's brother
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Join Date: Sep 2019
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
@Moonraven - Batglare | @Alchemist Kitsune - Dapplebreeze | @Rani - Crowtooth | @gs29513 - Deadmoon
The huge gray warrior twitched his ear nearly violently as he slowed his pace into a light jog the closer, they moved to their location. He parted his maw, breathing in the air, once he overlooked the strong scent of fresh wildflowers, Leechscar almost hacked on the revolting taste of death and rot. Snapping his jaw shut, Leechscar glanced at the older cats behind him and silently charged forward again.
The green-eyed warrior swung his gaze to and fro as he caught a glimpse of the mauled corpse ahead of them. Leechscar stared at Wolffang's brutalized body for a long moment and then at the strange flower near the corpse. He'd never seen one of those before and doubted it grew among the wildflowers. Leechscar carefully hooked his claws within the stem of the strange flower and drew it closer to him, moving it out so it wouldn't get stepped out. "What's this flower?" He looked mostly at Batglare for an answer but didn't mind an answer from whoever had been listening.
He left Deadmoon and Crowtooth to do or get whatever it was out of their system while looking over to the eldest of the group. There was another strange scent hanging around the body, Leechscar knew it was a cat, but hadn't the faintest clue who. It didn't smell like an outsider. Quite frankly there were way too many strong scents in the air, breathing them deeply would give him a headache.
"What's that scent?" He asked no cat in particular. "Wolffang will need to be buried, there's no way he's going back to camp in that state." Not unless they wanted to give their clanmates nightmare. Not to mention, that's not the last imagine you want cats to remember the warrior in. Leechscar stifed down his temper as his mind drifted to a pretty white and brown queen. He didn't think he despite Wolffang as much as he currently did, but his disdain for the tom was mixed more complicated feeling than after learning of his first death.
Leechscar hadn't been around to see Wolffang's corpse the first time around, he was just upset and bitter that the tom had left him on his own. Actually, seeing the life completely gone from the tom's eyes and carnage left behind, there was something more than just raw rage. Regardless, whatever it was, it was something to be concerned with later. Now that they knew for certain that he was gone, they should be prioritizing finding and killing that coyote.
"We need to locate the coyote." He stated the obvious, looking around for any blood trails or indent and tracks they could follow.
Last edited by Undertaker; July 15th, 2024 at 12:45 AM.
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July 14th, 2024, 09:48 PM
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![Rani's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=12209&dateline=1722323469) |
Queen of Pinnepeds
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Join Date: May 2020
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
Crowtooth
Windclan Tunneler/Fury | He/him | 50 Moons
Power Card: Cold Gust
Could ones ears get sore? Crowtooth might find out today at home much his were on a swivel, eyes and ears darting around to take everything in as the group traveled. He was tense all over, ready to break into a rarely seen sprint to attack either the coyote in the area or to go to a probably injured Wolffangs aid whichever came first.
He still didnt believe that his friend was dead, he couldnt until he saw the body heart just unwilling to let go when things had been so good of late. It wouldnt be fair that he went now, when he'd mended past hurt and built bridges that did not exist before, friendships that shouldve come long ago but for a last that prevented it, all for promises of a bright kind future he shouldve had.
The scent of death however was a betrayal of the true unfairness of life.
The sight of Wolffangs body was another.
Having bounded forward, ready for a fight Crowtooth locked in place, grey and brown eyes wide as he took in the scene. In a way he did kind of know what was coming, deeply in denial even, but it was different to suddenly face reality and find it harsh and cold.
Wolffang, dead and furious even through his tears. The prey, unnaturally there though Crowtooth didnt have it in him to investigate all the little details that showed it so. The scent of coyote, not here but not far. And a "Rose. That'sa rose....."
Funny that the flower was what broke the tunneler from his stasis.
Something itching on the edge of his memory, recognition and instinctive disgust for the strange cat scent on the rose Crowtooth padded past it ridge of back fur instinctively rising as he did to reach Wolffang.
It was really him and gently nosing along his chest there wasnt even a breath of air to buoy his desperate hope of a last minute save. There was nothing, nothing they could do and Crowtooth let out a sudden shuddering gasp of air, wet and painful, head dipping in a moment of pure grief.
It just wasnt fair it just wasnt fair.
But little even was.
His moment of grief was done, not allowed to last given the task at paw and the ever unhealthy idea that Crowtooth was not allowed to be weak and break in front of his clanmates, and the tom forced himself to shove down those emotions. He could break proper alone once this was done, the coyote was dead and Wolffang was buried, veiled by the dark and quiet of night. Allowing only one tear to escape Crowtooth composed himself, a gentle paw reaching out to close Wolffangs eyes, before he turned to join Leechscar.
"The coyote wont be far, we got here quick. Prolly went off ta find a sheltered place ta rest after its meal so we might find it in the grove. Plus once they 'ave a kill unless driven from it they tend ta stick close." He recalled those lessons from Creekdash well enough. "The rose though... Somethin's rotten about this, more then usual."
@Undertaker @Moonraven @gs29513 @Alchemist Kitsune
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Last edited by Rani; July 14th, 2024 at 09:49 PM.
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July 15th, 2024, 01:20 PM
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![gs29513's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=12246&dateline=1688167466) |
You're stuck with me
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
Deadmoon had managed to keep up with the patrol as they made their way through the territory, possibly because Leechscar and Batglare had slowed their own paces on account of her and Crowtooth's difficulties with running. She wasn't quite sure what it was that made it harder for the older tom to do Windclan things (her difficulty came from a much more visible source) but he had never been one for speed. Deadmoon could feel her stupid leg getting cross with her, stiffening as she came to a halt, but that wasn't her main concern. How could it be, when the scent of the area was one of overwhelming death. Death and rotting, and something strangely sweet.
Their charge into the little copse of trees was too late, and ultimately anticlimactic. No snarling coyote awaited them, no wounded Wolffang there to aid. It was still, shaded, and smelled absolutely terrible. Deadmoon was frozen for a moment, staring at Wolffang. Wolffang's body. His soul had long gone, already on the plane of stars. Her brother was gone, and he wouldn't be coming back. On the one paw, she wanted to hope more than anything. That he might return as he had done before. But there wasn't a chance, not really. The stars had granted a second chance but surely wouldn't grant a third, even if Wolffang had been on the cusp of things new and exciting, of a long life surrounded by Leopardsong and Crowtooth and maybe her and his other friends.
So lost was Deadmoon in her realization (for she had denied it till this point) that her brother was gone, that she had missed Leechscar's initial question. She could see the flower, hooked under his claws, but had no real care for it. If the coyote were to lunge out at that moment she probably wouldn't have noticed. It was terribly unprofessional, stupid even, to indulge in sentiment when there was a cat-eating coyote on the loose. But Deadmoon couldn't quite draw herself away from staring at Wolffang. She didn't dare approach. Somehow, she was still clinging to some shred of hope. But if she looked in his eyes, and found them glassy and staring and gone, there would be no hope.
Crowtooth was braver than her, and approached the body. The way his head dropped told her all she needed to know, even though she'd known it since Twistedpaw had told her story.
And then Crowtooth's words, thus far lurking within her eardrums and unable to penetrate the fog of grief within her head, broke through. A rose. To the others, rose probably meant little more than the name suggested. A pretty flower, probably explaining for the weird sweetness in the air. A prefix or suffix sometimes. Alas, Deadmoon was no stranger to roses. Their mere mention brought to her mind one very, very specific cat who would also have been transfixed by such a scene. Whether in glee or sorrow she did not know, Rosebriar had never been particularly rational nor easy to understand, and Deadmoon hadn't tried. But a rose. All she could think of whas her sister, THEIR sister, for she was Wolffang's as well.
It was a crazy thought. Insane. Rosebriar was DEAD. But when Deadmoon finally, finally returned to the land of the living from whatever strange, foggy plain she had inhabited, it seemed all too real. The scent Leechscar had remarked upon, too young to remember perhaps. Batglare and Crowtooth would doubtlessly find it a bit familiar, from their time in camp with the she-cat. But to Deadmoon it was clear as day, a scent she couldn't forget even if she tried. She'd love to be able to, to never think about her sister again, but it was impossible. That had been proved many times over.
It's Rosebriar. she whispered to herself, for the first time really looking around. Almost wildly, as if she expected a ghostly she-cat, once beautiful but now mauled, to appear from the trees, or the ground, or the sky. The scent is Rosebriar's. Stronger now, more likely to be audible to her clanmates. Improbable as it was, the fog was practically lifted from her mind, eyes sharp as she peered into the shadows. But she's supposed to be dead. Wolffang saw her.......last time. She WAS dead. Deadmoon sounded more like she was asking for verification, or like she was trying to convince herself, than certain of her own words.
The muddled mist of sadness was being driven back by the fire of her anger. Was Rosebriar resurrected, just as Wolffang had been? Had she somehow found a way to temporarily escape the bounds of the spirit world? Deadmoon didn't question what her intentions were, that much was clear as day. She had helped kill Wolffang, whether in concert with the coyote or by luring it here she did not know, but she had been involved. The rose was some sort of sick calling card, to ensure that they were aware of her involvement. To ensure they connected the dots. The dots had been connected, and Deadmoon wanted to tear something to shreds.
She was well aware she was unlikely to be able to track the coyote, or Rosebriar for that matter. As distinct as her scent was it was muddled with that of the coyote, a far stronger odor. She didn't know whether her sister was alive or dead, here or long gone. There was too much going on, too many disparate threads of thought and feeling. The coyote threat to deal with. Rosebriar being involved, taking from her the one healthy relationship she'd managed to have in their messed up family. Even now, after all the work Deadmoon had put in to try and heal, and be better, Rosebriar could still knock her down faster than anyone else. Wolffang. Gone.
Deadmoon felt guilty, then. She shouldn't be focused on Rosebriar and...what? Getting back at her? Just.....knowing where she was and what she'd done? Wolffang was DEAD, she shouldn't be selfish and think about anything else. Classic Deadmoon, getting hung up on things from the past rather than the here and now. The here and now was the coyote. She had to focus on that, get what revenge she definitely could. No one knew where Rosebriar was, but they could find the coyote. She didn't have much to add to the discussion of where it had gone though, so she simply rejoined Leechscar and Crowtooth silently seething, Rosebriar's face swimming behind her eyelids in a terribly taunt. It had been made clear she wasn't here to do the coyote-butt-kicking, so she'd stay quiet and let the furies take the lead on that front. @ Undertaker @ Moonraven @ Rani @ Alchemist Kitsune
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All hail the Rat Queen's!!
Shrewstep has Silver Tongue and Mind Reader purrks
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Last edited by gs29513; July 15th, 2024 at 01:22 PM.
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July 19th, 2024, 04:39 PM
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![Moonraven's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=10662&dateline=1593312388) |
Engaged to Ian
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Join Date: Sep 2019
Gender: Female
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
Batglare
Thick muscles bulged underneath a thick fluffy pelt of brown and white as the stoic, intimidating tom strolled at the very back of the patrol. He was as silent as the light breeze that fluttered through his coat. His attention was fixated on the three younger cats at the head of the patrol. Batglare wouldn't say he was troubled, but even with a heart as tiny as he, the warrior worried about how they would take Wolffang's death.
Batglare's seen cats come and go countless times. He had an odd almost detachment to death, even with those who made a significant impact in his life, he could let them go far quicker than what was expected of cats. His grief never stayed long as the loss was far too familiar to him.
His nose wrinkled as the smell of death reached him. He did not bother picking up his pace and continued to walk at his own pace. Ahead, he spotted the mangled remains of what was Wolffang. But Crowtooth and Deadpool's forms quickly blocked his few. Batglare hung back, eyes roaming their surroundings for signs of the fox as Leechscar played with a flower he had found.
The bright color caught his attention as the plant's name jumped into his head. Crowtooth was quick to bounce back from his grief or perhaps he just did what Twilightstar did and buried it to mourn in isolation later. Rosebriar's name had his eyes glued to Deadmoon as she spoke of a cat long since perished. At the comment of the scent, Batglare drew closer parting his maw to taste the air, and was a little surprised that Deadmoon had been able to place the scent with the death and rot.
"It's not the first time the dead have risen to walk beside once again," Batglare muttered quietly and then listened to Crowtooth talk about the coyote. He wasn't sure about the meal part since, despite all the damage, Wolffang's body looked intact. Batglare didn't understand Rosebriar's part in this and he doubted StarClan would have brought her back for something like this, but they should probably focus on the coyote.
Batglare looked to Leechscar and waited to see what he wanted to do.
@Rani [Crowtooth] @Undertaker [Leechscar] @Alchemist Kitsune [Dapplebreeze] @gs29513 [Deadmoon]
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July 19th, 2024, 10:05 PM
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![Alchemist Kitsune's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=16850&dateline=1707590763) |
Crunchy Leaves
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
| Dapplebreeze |
69 Moons - WindClan Fury Lieutenant
Agatha Kitty - Active | Silver Tongue - Active | Beefed Up [Tier 3] - Inactive
The patched fury took up the rear of the group, keeping her eyes open. Ears alert. Coyotes were dangerous creatures. It would not do to have them ambushed by the beast while their eyes were turned towards their goal. A goal that became less appealing the closer they got.
Dapplebreeze's nose wrinkled in disgust, the evident stench of crowfood almost overwhelming the area. The sight of a downed warrior greeted them alongside the wretched smell, and the senior warrior couldn't help but understand how this predator might have caught Wolffang unawares. Hard to feel the stench of coyote in the air when that heap of rotting flesh almost eradicated any other scent that wasn't directly in front of your nose. Mismatched ears flattened respectfully, the tan and cream she-cat dipped her head in polite reverence for their fallen clanmate - and one with such potential, too... oh stars, had Leopardsong heard - before she turned her attention to the heap of rot. So long it had been here that determining what it had once looked like was impossible. Regardless, one thing was clear. A coyote had already been attracted to this... this thing. It had to be disposed of. Gotten rid of, effective immediately.
Dark azure hues turned towards the chatting group, the name Rosebriar catching her attention. Stars. There was a name she hadn't heard in a long time. Deadmoon's certainty that she was dead unfortunately meant little to the lieutenant, having witnessed her daughter's death and return by StarClan's paws. Wolffang himself had returned from the dead. It was hardly the first time this had happened. A cat being returned to the living. There was of course the question of... why? Why bring back a cat who contributed nothing but grief for her clan in this new life, but then, StarClan worked in mysterious ways, she supposed. It was not her place to take guesses when the circumstances would not change. Wolffang was dead. And evidently it was suspected Rosebriar was involved somehow.
Unfortunately, whether a formerly dead WindClanner had been involved in the second loss of life Wolffang had been through was not the thing to focus on now. Leechscar was right. They needed to get that coyote. They needed to bury the gray warrior's corpse. Personally, she would have taken it back to camp. Allowed his loved ones to grieve besides him. But it was not her call to make. Although... she would definitely not be ignoring the thing that had attracted the canine to this place.
"I agree that getting rid of the coyote is of utmost importance, but we should not overlook the crowfood left behind. Judging by the eaten sections of that pile of rot, I would say that was what the creature was after when it spotted Wolffang and darling Twistedpaw. If we leave it here, we will only be inviting more predators to take strikes at us. I suggest leaving it in RiverClan territory once the coyote is dealt with. Let the fish eaters deal with the consequences of that upon their return," she stated calmly as she walked towards the group, settling besides Batglare, quietly giving those who needed time to grieve the space to do so in the admittedly small pocket of time they could.
@ Moonraven [Batglare] | @ Undertaker [Leechscar] | @ Rani [Crowtooth] | @ gs29513 [Deadmoon]
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July 22nd, 2024, 02:13 PM
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![TheNyanCatMinecart's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=11285&dateline=1700775796) |
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
~ WOLFFANG OF STARCLAN ~
AMAB | HE/HIM | WARRIOR | 56 MOONS | BEEFED UP TIER 1 | SPIRITUAL ENCOUNTER
Large, muscular, dappled gray tom with amber eyes and light cream-gray fluff covering the front of his neck and chest.
Character bio can be read here.
Wolffang was no stranger to death.
Ever since he opened his eyes, it had surrounded him in the form of fallen Clanmates, ailing leaders, kits who came into the world only to come out of it. When he was deputy, ShadowClan had closed in, and the bodies had piled high. Even when he retired, there had been abundant losses - sickness, fire, and, of course, the conflict with RiverClan, all accompanied by the regular casualties. It was the cycle of life.
Nestled between these events was his first death. It was as clear as day to him, no matter how many moons passed. The vicious pack of wild dogs. The pain. The blood. His soul leeching out of him as he lay on the gritty sand. The darkness. The confrontation with his family that followed and StarClan's promise that he had died much too soon.
So, he wasn't a stranger to it. But that didn't stop the pain of waking among the stars and realizing that he had all the powers of a StarClan cat. The first time, he'd lacked those abilities, meaning that he was slated to return to WindClan. But not this time. Now it was permanent. Now he would begin a life among the stars, surrounded by those he had loved and lost - and those wise, ancient spirits from another time.
Wolffang was eternally grateful for the second chance he'd received. It had been merciful of StarClan to send him back and allow him to continue his legacy - to not just overcome his past, but to move on from it. To be a complete part of WindClan. To understand himself. However... he wished he'd had more time. To spend time with Deadmoon or his new friend, Crowtooth. To congratulate Firestorm and Snowybreeze on their new kits.
And, most of all, to be with Leopardsong.
Leaving her now was hard enough. Knowing she would grieve, without ever confessing to her - though Wolffang knew that they both understood their feelings for each other. He'd just never asked the question to fully forge that bond. Oh, how he wished he hadn't wasted so much time.
It was even harder now, knowing what was to come. Knowing what he would miss. His regret was like the river, dragging at his fur and pulling him into its swirling depths.
He didn't want to be dead. He knew Leopardsong would be broken, perhaps even furious with him.
Leechscar would have some choice words, too.
But Wolffang knew that this had been entirely out of his control. Rosebriar, his wretched, depraved... no, he refused to call her his sister. That creature had taken his life from him and his chance at a happy ending with Leopardsong. Besides, he couldn't have escaped the coyote. I needed to give Twistedpaw time to run. It was fitting that he'd sacrificed his life for the one thing he'd sought to destroy all those seasons ago as an arrogant, hot-headed young tom. It was fate, almost, a last cry to how much he'd changed.
However, he was not prideful. He had been doing what any loyal Clanmate would do. And it had cost him dearly.
Wolffang had to accept his death. There was nothing he could do to change it now. He'd been granted mercy once before. It would be selfish to ask for it again. StarClan would spit in his face for his impiety.
Besides - and perhaps this were the StarClan powers speaking - it was his time. No going back, no third chances.
Wolffang wasn't done, though. He had a duty to the living. There was a threat on WindClan territory, and if he could defend his Clan one last time, he would be happier than simply leaving them to fend for themselves.
He watched from his place in the sky as the patrol came across his body. Batglare and Dapplebreeze... two formidable senior warriors. Deadmoon... his lovely sister. His only sister. Crowtooth... his good friend whom he had only recently kindled a relationship with. Leechscar... that stuck-up insolent tom who had a lot to offer to his Clan. He would've preferred Leechscar not being here, knowing that his spite would leech into everything. And yet he was glad that there was a smart, powerful warrior who would help drive off the coyote - and who would help Leopardsong get through a rough time. I just hope he won't spew lies to her about me wasting my life. At least Wolffang had plans to visit her in a dream as soon as this was dealt with.
Wolffang's amber gaze travelled down to his corpse. He had a strong stomach when it came to gore and wounds; after all, he'd seen plenty during his life. However, seeing his own body was different. The way his leg had been snapped... the deep red pit where his throat should've been... the teeth marks lodged into his flesh... the scattered fur... It turned his stomach. Would his body be brought back to camp? Or would it be buried beforepaw so his Clanmates wouldn't have to see how it had been brutalized? Certainly, he didn't want Leopardsong to see him like this. Or Deadmoon or Crowtooth, for that matter.
Leechscar reached the body first. Wolffang tried to keep his fur flat as his former apprentice's emerald-green eyes sparked with a wild rage. Only Leechscar would hate him for saving his foster mother's reincarnation. But there was something deeper there, too. Some kind of grief? It was certainly shocking and quelled a little of Wolffang's instinctual distaste.
He also found the rose Rosebriar had left. That vile rat. Of course she'd like WindClan to know what she did.
Other than a quick question about the flower, Leechscar went straight to business. He proposed burying the body - my body - before taking it back before beginning to talk about the coyote.
Wolffang's attention turned to Crowtooth. The stocky black-and-white tom seemed to recover quickly from his grief, but Wolffang knew the emotional pain he was in. He watched as the tunneller closed his clouded eyes with his paw. He knew he could not be seen - not yet - but he bowed his head anyway. Yes, there were cats like Leechscar who disrespected him... but there were plenty who knew him for who he'd become. Who he really was. And he cherished them for it.
He just wished they could've spent more time together.
He was surprised that Crowtooth didn't recognize Rosebriar's scent. Then again, there were so many scents that it would be hard to distinguish. He knew something was off, though, despite providing insight about the coyote.
Deadmoon's grief was the hardest to process. She looked so lost, so distant, but not out of apathy. I'm sorry you had to see this. She recognized Rosebriar's scent immediately, though, and struggled to process what it meant. Wolffang would explain that in due time.
Batglare seemed to think that Rosebriar had risen from the dead, too, or at least come down from the stars to interfere. Dapplebreeze, meanwhile, also got down to business about the coyote. She suggested bringing his body back to camp, but also of disposing of the crow-food. It warmed his heart to hear how she spoke of Twistedpaw. She's in good paws.
The patrol had found his body. Now it was time for him to act.
Wolffang left the stars... but not to return to life.
*********************************************
Wolffang's corpse suddenly shimmered with starlight. From the battered, broken, bloody body emerged a warrior at the peak of his strength. His thick, medium-length pelt was smooth and healthy, his muscles rippling with unbridled strength, amber eyes aglow, the only wounds on his body the scarred ones of old. One would think he was alive if it weren't for the stars that shone so brightly throughout his dappled gray fur and imbued the air with a silvery-white glow.
He gazed at the patrol before him. His face was solemn, his eyes gleaming with sorrow.
"Greetings," he meowed, dipping his head respectfully. He didn't care that he was in StarClan now, that he was a rank above them. They were still his Clanmates. And, in the cases of Batglare and Dapplebreeze, his superiors. "I know you have many questions. I am here to answer them - and to aid my Clan one last time.
"My death was very painful for me - more emotionally than physically. I did not want to leave WindClan for many seasons. I wanted to grow old with my beloved Leopardsong and train a future generation of WindClan warriors, who would serve their Clan with honor, respect, and dignity. But it seems that was not what fate had in mind for me.
"I was out with Twistedpaw when we smelled an awful stench. We tracked it down and found that rotting hunk of crow-food. I planned to leave quickly so we could report it back at camp and send a larger patrol of warriors to dispose of it and search for predators, but Rosebriar had other plans. I see you found her rose - and her scent." His tone and eyes alike darkened as a cloud briefly flitted over the sun.
"Rosebriar - my estranged sister, though I loathe to call her such - used whatever StarClan powers she had to manifest the crow-food. Her goal was to lure the coyote to Twistedpaw and me. It worked. She wanted to kill us both; even after rejecting StarClan's mercy and skulking into the Dark Forest, she decided that banishing herself was not enough and that she had to inflict her misery on the living. The coyote came upon us too fast. I would've run, but it was too late for that. The best I could manage was to distract it long enough so Twistedpaw could get away. The coyote ate its fill of the crow-food and went deeper into WindClan territory. You're lucky; it's wandered in the general direction of RiverClan territory, but it's still a threat to us. If you go that way, you will find it soon enough. This is all the help I can provide."
He sighed, long and deep.
"How I wish I could track it alongside you, continue to aid WindClan as a warrior. But I am comforted knowing that there are many great cats who will serve in my place." His amber gaze swept the patrol.
"Dapplebreeze. You are an honorable warrior, an asset to this Clan who has aided them with rationale, kindness, and determination. You have also provided us with wonderful warriors who have served WindClan well. I have always respected you, and that has not changed. Continue to serve this Clan - not just with your claws, but with your tongue, for warmth and friendliness hold us together more than division and hatred."
He tried not to look at Leechscar as he made this point.
"Batglare. You, too, are formidable. You have served WindClan for many seasons as a source of logic and brute force. You have never failed them. And thank you for everything you've done for Twistedpaw. I would hate to see her turn out the way Ashfeather did, self-conscious and doubtful of herself. I am glad you helped her grow and nurture into the strong warrior she always should've been.
"Deadmoon. My dear sister. I am sorry we could not spend more time together - and that our interactions were awkward and wrought with past sorrows. I would've loved to share prey with you, to have a chat that didn't revolve around our complicated past. I have said this before, and I will say it again. You are a great warrior. Your leg does not make you any less than anyone else. You have the heart, determination, and durability to serve your Clan greatly. You've got this, my little sister.
"Crowtooth. A wonderful friend. I have always respected you as a warrior. Now I wish I got to admire you more as a friend. Your loyalty, humor, and warm-heartedness hold WindClan together. I trust you will continue to be loyal to WindClan far into the future, through whatever new leaders and horizons we will face.
"And you." He finally turned to face Leechscar, the cat who had caused him so much strife and pain, turmoil and anger. "You have several choice words for me, I'm sure. Going to blame me for dying again?" He took a deep breath. "But now is not the time for anger or hostility. Yes, you have rubbed my fur the wrong way for a long time with your lack of respect and Clan loyalty. But you have great potential. You are smart, strong, and capable, always putting your duties first and protecting those you love. I am sorry I couldn't complete your training, but I never meant to abandon you - and you turned out plenty competent without my help. Keep serving WindClan. And..."
His tone grew more serious, though the depth of sorrow in his eyes deepened. He took a step toward Leechscar.
"Look after Leopardsong. She trusts you. She likes you. You saved her before. She needs you now more than ever. Don't upset her with your sharp tongue and old anger. Care for her. I will be visiting her soon, to let her know that I am always there for her. But she still needs you. I am forever in your debt." Maybe this would've angered him once, but now he was grateful.
Wolffang let his gaze sweep over the rest of the cats one last time. He was beginning to fade; his time was nearing its end.
"Look after WindClan. Bury my body in the Starry Meadow. And don't just look after Leopardsong - look after our kits, too."
And in a shimmer of starlight, he was gone.
@Undertaker @Rani @gs29513 @Moonraven @Alchemist Kitsune [I am so sorry, I did not mean for this to be so long ]
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July 22nd, 2024, 05:09 PM
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![Undertaker's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=10704&dateline=1708293527) |
Moonraven's brother
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Join Date: Sep 2019
Gender: Male
Bump Policy: 3 days
Posts: 2,411
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
@Moonraven - Batglare | @Alchemist Kitsune - Dapplebreeze | @Rani - Crowtooth | @gs29513 - Deadmoon | @TheNyanCatMinecart - Wolffang
So there was a lot of history here that the youngest warrior felt like he was missing out on. Crowtooth told him the flower was called a rose, he's heard of them but never seen one before. The tom grieved for a few heartbeats then pulled a Twilightstar, got his act together, and brought up tidbits about the coyote. Dapplebreeze commented on the crowfood which was going to have to get that cleaned up, and dipped into what Crowtooth said about beast.
Deadmoon brought up a Rosebriar? Leechscar heard the name and knew the cat as one of the first warriors Twilightstar ever named. That and she was a part of Ashfeather's tales of her abuse. He didn't think the former WindClan warrior had been around when he was growing up, so he can't say he knew her personally. Deadmoon seemed concerned about her being alive again, but as Wolffang died and rose again, it didn't seem that far-fetched.
Leechscar turned to listen to Batglare when the strangest thing happened. Wolffang got up the spirit emerged straight out of the corpse. The tom took two uncertain paw steps closer to Batglare and eyed the strange sight with a guard glint in his eyes. Leechscar's never seen a StarClan spirit before. He knew they existed but never cared for them in the slightest except when they were a bother to Twilightstar.
To see one before him was quite the shock and Wolffang of all cats. Leechscar forced his fur to stay flat as even dead his former mentor droned on and on. At least he was helpful and gave some of the cats here much-needed closure regarding his death. Leechscar cared nothing for Rosebriar, yet listened intently about the coyote in RiverClan's territory. Well, now they know where to look at least. Leechscar's thoughts were mostly on killing the coyote as Wolffang took a moment to say whatever about the cats in the patrol. The large gray warrior turned his gaze towards the spirit when it dawned on him that he was talking to him.
Well, considering you died just as I warned Leopardsong you would, I was right.
Leechscar kept his selfish thoughts to himself. Honestly, Leechscar just wanted to badger the spirit to rid himself of these unwanted feelings. He was still enraged that tom had died, but considering the circumstances around his death and who he had died for... feeling grief for someone you don't like was a whole yarnball that needed to be untangled. He never wished Wolffang dead despite their rocky relationship. Being apologized to and assured that Wolffang hadn't meant to leave him only made him want to snap at the cat more. He should have stayed home and left this to Batglare and the others.
This didn't fix years of disdain and hostility, none of this did. But it rattled him in a way that he loathed. Leechscar grits his fangs behind his lips and pins his ears firmly against his head when Leopardsong is brought into the equation.
That's your job, she loves you, she needs you! Quit leaving me to clean up your damn messes!
Even dead Wolffang drove him insane. Did he just kits?!!! Leechscar's eyes widen comically as the tom's spirit disappears. He got her pregnant and died? The few that bother to get to know Leopardsong knew how much she wanted a family. It's been like her dream since kithood! Now she'd get kits but lost her mate! Why was this Leechscar problem?!!!
Lovely, his former mentor dies and wills him with his grief-stricken mate, kits, and WindClan's care. When has Leechscar ever expressed he wanted any of these problems? Wolffang was lucky he was dead cause Leechscar would kill him himself otherwise.
Stars what a wonderful dung heap I've gotten myself into. It wasn't like he could ignore this cause at the end of the day he was his mother's son and way too duty-bound for his own good. Since the featherbrain was dead Leechcar felt obligated to carry this out.
"Dapplebreeze and Deadmoon, stay back and get rid of the crowfood. The last thing we need is vultures added to the mix. Batglare and Crowtooth you'll come with me. Let's see if we can put this coyote down before it causes more grief."Leechscar huffed after a long moment of silence, waiting to see if anyone had any objections to the plan.
As much as he'd like to digest this new problem thrown on his shoulders, they still had to catch a coyote. It didn't sound like Rosebriar was alive, just stirring up mischief from the beyond. Strange, but as he's watched his mother rise from the dead, he found no use in questioning anything right now.
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July 22nd, 2024, 07:47 PM
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![Rani's Avatar](image.php?s=fb8bb6244acff229c5fe795453779ade&u=12209&dateline=1722323469) |
Queen of Pinnepeds
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Join Date: May 2020
Status: Neck deep in wild animals at work and reports at Uni!
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
Crowtooth
Windclan Tunneler/Fury | He/him | 50 Moons
Power Card: Cold Gust
Oh screw you Wolffang, how was Crowtooth to keep things together after all of that?
The tunnelers mind had felt blank muddled and pained, watching what could only be some nightmarish fever dream but was in fact reality. Cruel cold reality but reality nonetheless. Wolffang was gone, not coming back if everything he was hearing felt right, and for naught but unfair cruel reasons.
He felt choked, strangled by silent grief watching his friend speak to them for the last time unable to muster words for the most part as he listened, fighting down tears. Crowtooth couldnt break, couldnt feel this pain right now knowing it'd render him useless for a time until his heart could run through all he felt until nothing was left. He didnt have the time for that, not with a threat to the clan looming and those also shaken by the loss that might need him, couldnt justify that his own loss might be as important and legitimate as others.
So he forced it all down to a quiet manageable ball of pain for when this was done and he was alone, and simply whispered a "Goodbye my friend." in a choked rasp.
Except it didnt work, Crowtooth was crumbling and fracturing and breaking inside desperately trying to claw his mind and heart into working order to function while his emotions ran rampant. Not feeling wasnt an option but so was breaking, and so the tom reached for the feeling he knew he could actually use and work through. Rage.
Looks like his anger issues had a use after all.
"He was murdered. Murdered fer a petty nonsense reason by a dead forgotten cat fer nonsense reasons....." The words were almost frighteningly calm considering how loud and bold Crowtooths fury usually was, cold and just audible and a statement of fact.
"Rosebrair, Id forgotten ya after so much time, not that its hard considerin' how little ya did in yer life, much less of what ya did do anythin' good or worthwhile. Now I do though, an' I wish I didnt 'cuz nothin' about ya is worth thinkin' about, but Im sure that aint a new occurrence in yer life.
By the end of yer life I found it fittin' yer wretched outside matched how ugly you were within, I bet ya wondered why no one fawned over your so called beauty when it was plain fer everyone ta see ya were just as disgustin' as ya called others.
No wonder everyone preferred Ashfeather over ya, even yer brother who was much better an' actually liked once he realized the truth.
Ya deserve the dark forest Rosebrair, if yer listenin', but ya know that fact. What ya also know an' might not wanna think about is that soon enough no one is gonna remember ya, but us fer this act. Wolffang though? He'll be headin' straight fer starclan ta be surrounded by cats who care fer him (of which ya have none)an' his memory will be kept alive here like yers will never be.
I hope ya enjoy the coyote 'cuz Im gonna be tryin' ta send it right ta yer den in that hellhole."
With a howling bloodlust to state in his eyes the tom stormed up to the larger Leechscar, ears pinned back flat to his head and joined his side with just a short "Lets get this done.". Was facing a predator in this state the smartest call? Perhaps not but Leechscar and Batglare would be there to handle the tactical side of things and rage had its place on a battlefield. And in Crowtooth, who might not have come to terms with the origin of his power and all that entailed, but had no qualms using his anger to fuel it for a good use, and already the wind was twisting around him unnaturally, eager to be used.
"We- we can bury Wolffang after that, fetch Twistedpaw an' Lichenpaw fer the burial if they wish ta attend. Wit' us splittin' we can make sure he doesnt get battered while the coyote is taken care of." Because Deadmoon wouldnt let her brothers body be savaged by some scavenger who came around, attracted by the rot, while they made sure this wouldnt go further right? He trusted her with that.
@Undertaker @Moonraven @gs29513 @Alchemist Kitsune
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July 29th, 2024, 10:19 PM
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You're stuck with me
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Join Date: May 2020
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Re: The Fallen Hero [P]
Deadmoon’s eyes were bugging out of her head. Wolffang. Wolffang had come back from the dead. AGAIN. For a moment she was overjoyed, starting towards her brother with a disbelieving smile on her face. She stopped short after only a step. Wolffang wasn’t in control of his body, he hovered above it. She could see the stars in his fur. He was a Starclan cat. Somehow he had escaped their plane, come back to them albeit temporarily. It must be temporary. If Starclan were going to grant him life they wouldn’t have granted this. A final goodbye.
Deadmoon was frozen.
She listened, watched, as her brother spoke. Addressing each of them in turn. Dapplebreeze. Batglare. HER. He called her his little sister. Deadmoon wanted to cry. Too much of their time together had been spent crying. Had been hard. Had required effort and emotions. She had never goofed around with him as she had with Rookscreech. As normal siblings did. As he must have done with Rosebriar when they were younger.
Rosebriar who had killed him, with the coyote. Their sister had killed Wolffang. She might be roaming free now, might still be trapped in the Dark Forest. Deadmoon didn’t know, and it didn’t seem like Wolffang really did either. She didn’t know whether that was good or bad. She didn’t know much. She just knew that she was angry.
Because Deadmoon didn’t have it, as Wolffang had said. She was lost. No Rookie and no Wolfie, how WAS she supposed to have it together? She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. That was clear. Deadmoon wanted to howl at the sky, the stars, claw them and bite them until they told her why. Why she had to be this way, why the cats she loved kept dying and leaving. She wanted to crawl into the dark forest through some hidden passage, and rip Rosebriar to pieces.
Crowtooth clearly shared her sentiment, launching into a tirade against her sister. Leechscar looked more angry at Wolffang, which checked out. To her knowledge they had never gotten on that well. And kits. Wolffang and Leopardsong were having KITS. Deadmoon would be an aunt, apparently. How was she to be an aunt? She couldn’t even keep herself balanced most of the time, how could she be an aunt? She liked kits but couldn’t handle ones of her own, and while she wouldn’t have to it was still scary. Stars she’d barely talked to Leopardsong, she had been waiting until it was official. And now there would be KITS.
Too many crisis at once had Deadmoon’s head swimming, gaping at Wolffang and the patrol and the world. Too many things, too many thoughts. She couldn’t handle it. Her emotional range was that of a teaspoon, and now there were full sized waves crashing about in that tiny vessel. She simply couldn’t handle it. So Deadmoon did what she always did, when thoughts were too strong.
She shut down. She did her absolute best to Not. Think. She nodded woodenly at Leechscar’s order, turning to Dapplebreeze. Keep the body safe, get rid of the crowfood. Focus on the crowfood. How bad it smelled, it’s horrid, rotting look, anything but Wolffang. Deadmoon was crying silently, eyes leaking desperate droplets of water as some of the waves sloshed over.
I’ll get the crowfood. she muttered to Dapplebreeze, making her way to stand over the lump of meat. Not Wolffang. She couldn’t stay near his body. Not a second longer. It was wrong. Vile. But she had to get away. She picked it up, gagging at the taste. Anything was better than looking at her brother though. Towards Roverclan territory she headed, steps as fast as she could make them. Dapplebreeze could come along or stay with the body, she didn’t really care. @ Undertaker @ Moonraven @ Rani @ Alchemist Kitsune
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