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August 16th, 2023, 04:46 PM
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![iliri's Avatar](image.php?s=0f0dfd1cb647c455ba477583b4c0dd25&u=12986&dateline=1723780409) |
reverting my way back
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Join Date: Oct 2020
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Gender: genderless blob [ she/her ]
Bump Policy: anytime !!
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crimson streaks as red as a fox’s pelt [p]
[tw warning: heavy mentions of gore and death. please don’t read if these disturb you]
• Springpaw •
long-furred, oriental-shaped, gray-and-orange calico molly with blue eyes; torn right ear
Purrks: Herbal Knowledge - Tier 1 | The Collector [active] | Mind Reader [active]
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Crimson. That was all that was shielding Soringpaw’s peripheral vision. The usually natural, lushly neon-green forest was outlandishly tainted with the unnatural colors of crimson red. The usually calm, steady breeze a fierce howl and gushing through her long fur without a single care in the world. What had originally been a natural landscape of her home, had drastically changed to look like it had been summoned from out of the darkest edges of the dark forest. The eerie landscape filled the apprentice with a sense of dread as she slowly trekked through the velvet-colored landscape; the tricolored fur among her back raised as dilated lapis blue hues danced everywhere among the red-colored atmosphere. The tall, dense trees were a deep shade of crimson among its bark; the leaves extending from its long, lanky branches were just a tinge darker than the bark. The usually dark, leprechaun green bushes and nettles were also tainted with the ghastly red color; the only remaining plant life that seemingly remained in its original states were both the random assortment of flowers and the grass beneath her paws. Why weren’t those things a different color and yet… everything else was? The snarling gush of wind sent a shiver down her spine, her claws instinctively slipping out and digging relentlessly into the coarse soil beneath her paws—the more she pressed, however, the more mushier the ground felt. Stars, what in the world was happening to her? Was she going insane? Was this her mind telling her that she lost her mind completely and now this was what she had to deal with? Total madness and chaos?
Swallowing down a lump of anxiety, Springpaw kept herself going through the dark, eerie forest, her snow-white paws barely eliminating any sound as they touched the soft soil. Stars, why was she here? Did StarClan secretly send her here? What for? Was it for a death wish? That last question almost made the calico stop in her tracks; her blood quickly ran cold as her sore muscles tensed against the sheer pressure of her swelling anxiety. She just wanted to go home. Shuffling in yet another intake of air, her deep blue gaze surveyed across the clearing as it seemed to finally melt back to its original colors; the vastly familiar scent of camp drifting over her nostrils. Her anxiety began to essentially creep away as a smile tugged drastically towards Springpaw’s lips, her blue eyes wide and her expression bright as she eagerly trekked towards camp, tail raised and posture raised. However, as she walked, her eyes briefly glanced over towards herself as a quick speckle of red caught her eye—the oriental calico almost quickly mistaking it for eerie colors of that crimson forest that she had just seen moments earlier. Pursing her lips, the calico put herself to a stop to fully examine the speckle of red that had caught her eye. Kneeling down, the molly leaned in closer as she squinted her eyes to get a proper look at whatever the red speckle was. However, from closer inspection, the eleven moon molly felt her puzzlement and confusion rise when she saw it as… fur? It didn’t seem to look like it was any sort of fur that belonged to a cat either; it wasn’t as soft as a cat’s would, and it looked longer. Furrowing her brows, the calico stood back up, almost quick to silently question the small bundle of fur that was apparent right in front of her. Where did it even come from?
Suddenly, a fierce gush of wind rushed through her body, making her fur incessantly raise among her back. Her ears instinctively pressed against her head as her own blood roared in rhythm with the gusting wind. Suppressed shivers escaped her body as she felt her eyes drying up; blinking incessantly to try to keep them as moist as she can against the angered roars of the wind. However, just as Springpaw felt as the roaring wind was just the start of it, an unfamiliar scent began to drift over her nose, making the young calico gag against the scent as it reeked. What in the world was that? Why did it smell so bad and what in the world was it? Momentarily gagging against the rancid scent, the calico tried her hardest to fight away against smelling the same smell as she turned her focus back up towards the area of where camp was again. Right, she was making her way back towards camp and was stopped by the random assortment of that bundle of red-colored fur. Silently passing the thought away, the calico began to continue her trek back up towards camp, her thoughts on the matter almost quickly disappearing. However, her ears whisky perked up from the sound of the bushes rustling and the sound of high-pitched barking and yips that came from some sort of animal, making Springpaw stop instantly on her tracks. What in the world kind of animal makes a weird barking sound and constantly yips? It didn’t sound like any sort of dog, as a dog’s bark was usually either yappy or low barks and they never, ever yip unless they were gravely injured or if they were frightened. Including, the scent she smelt was much different than what a dog would smell like; the scent was much more rancid unlike a dog’s scent.
Springpaw didn’t have to question much about the matter as the bushes rustled enough that a head popped out from underneath the crimson-colored leaves. The head didn’t quite familiarize with the shape of a dog nor the shape of some sort of feline. Its features looked like a mixture of both with its narrow-shaped head and pointed ears; its eyes a delicate bright-very color with narrowed pitch black pupils staring into her direction, its pupils the exact shape of an cats. The creature’s fur was a deep, reddish-brown tawny hue with white partaking half of its long, narrowed snout; its nose a deep, jet-black color as small, feather-soft whiskers prominent along the sides of its white muzzle. Springpaw felt her eyes making immense contact with the creature right in front of her, her body frozen in place as her brain worked itself to try to figure out how exactly she was going to get herself out of the situation she was now stuck in. The canine-like creature didn’t seem to be in the direct mood to make a sudden movement at the given moment; its hazel hues staring intently into lapis ones. The young feline felt herself questioning what in the world the creature was, as she never truly saw anything like it. The creature in question turned its focus towards the direction of camp, his lips baring back into a threatening bark and letting out random ranges of snarling and growling as it began to push its way out of the crimson-colored nettle bushes; Springpaw getting a better look at the creature’s features and feeling her blood run almost completely cold. It’s four, long and slender legs were the color of pitch-black soot and it’s thick, reddish-tawny fur partake most of its small body; it’s heavy-furred and bushy white-tipped tail wagging incessantly as it trudged out from it the nettle-like bushes behind itself.
The creature in behalf was a fox; a creature that Springpaw had barely little knowledge about but had enough knowledge to know that they were dangerous and were kit-killers. Not only could they kill kits, but they held the full capacity to kill an adult cat if they wanted to—merely one that would be weak or maybe even an elder. This one looked to be eying her camp, which was more than enough to make her stomach clench in its grasp. Springpaw knew that she herself couldn’t properly take on a full-grown fox, due to the lack of battle training that she had herself. Maybe it was just going to be this one by itself? Her slight hopes for the matter quickly distinguished when she saw three more foxes trench their way through the bushes, joining alongside the first fox that had been eying the camp. The foul scent of fox began to overstimulate her sensitive nose; the calico resisted the urge to gag against its repulsive scent as she stared in bewilderment in the direction of the skulk of foxes. They were yammering, yipping, and barking ferociously; clear drool dribbling around the edges of their jowls as they yammered and snarled. The medicine cat apprentice could clearly just see the impending hunger in their eyes and they were aiming to go attack ThunderClan camp. Among the midst of their disgusting stench, the young feline was quick to point out the familiar marsh-like scent of ShadowClan clinging to their stinking bodies—a wave of horror quick to purge through Soringpaw’s body. These foxes came from ShadowClan territory. It was written all over their slender bodies. If that’s true—as it was—then it meant only one thing and one thing only.
ShadowClan lured these foxes into ThunderClan territory in hopes for revenge. Cold, heartless revenge for what they’ve done. A pulse of fear and panic began to trickle into the depths of Springpaw’s system, her paws itching to run back to camp and warn everyone about the impending danger of foxes invading camp. Would they believe her? Would they think that she is telling the truth if she tries to do such a thing? Her body felt numb. Her muscles felt like they were sore. The foxes were already beginning to trench their way over to camp; their fierce barks and snarls echoing throughout the entire forest as they proclaimed their presence. Springpaw felt her body finally begin to move as she raced after the foxes; her snow-white paws pounding against the soil as her heart accelerated against her chest. Brambles and nettles clung themselves with desperation against her tricolored fur as she raced through the woods, completely ignorant to the stinging pain that they left as they broke through skin. She had to try to make it back to camp before she was too late and the foxes beat her. She couldn’t lose Drizzlecloud. Bumblestar. Alderstep. Or even her own mother. Each of their faces were implanted into the deepest crevices of her mind, her anxiety only increasing as a metallic tang encompassed her tongue alongside her desperately pounding legs to make it to camp. Her ears roared as her blood boiled deeply within them; the distant sounds of the barks and snarls from the foxes echoing through them as Springpaw kept running like it was the last day of her life. The camp was growing closer to her view, and a quick tinge of hope fluttered deeply within her chest. Could she make it after all? Would she make it before the foxes do?
Her hope was quick to die down as her clan-mates' blood-curdling screams filled the air, Springpaw skidding to an abrupt stop as she stared in horror at the crimson-stained camp right in front of her. The foxes’ reddish-tawny pelts quickly stain in crimson as blood dribbles off their wounds. Her clan-mates fought furiously as some were already critically injured against the fierce canines fighting recklessly against them all. Fear and adrenaline rushed through Springpaw’s body, the medicine apprentice whipping her head around to find any potential cats—like elders and queens—who weren’t fighting against the fierce creatures and were cowering away with the young youthful life of the kits. Her blood ran cold when she noticed some of the cats that she knew were fighting for their lives against the cruel, canid beasts; each of their pelts staining with the taint of red. Her throat grew tight and barren as she opened her jaws desperately to scream out their names. Every fiber of her being restlessly screamed at her to run out there and help any of her critically injured her clan-mates get out of there so they could get checked out and patched up as soon as possible. Lapis hues danced around the clearing as she rushed through to find Drizzlecloud or anyone that she could see that was still alive and well. “Drizzlecloud!” she screamed, her lungs burning and throat sore against the pungent scent of the rancid foxes invading camp and from the metallic scent of blood. Her head whipped around the camp to search for anyone who she knew. Her aching paws felt like they were bound to give up beneath her as she ran around camp searching desperately for her mother. She couldn’t have been taken down by the foxes themselves yet, right? However, that didn’t seem to be the case when the young molly saw the next thing that was quick to make her heart sink to the bottom of her chest.
Her lapis hues were quick to catch the familiar pale tabby pelt of Bumblestar fighting off one of the foxes; both of their pelts stained with crimson and the canine’s jaws dripping with saliva and stained with the blood of the feline that it was currently fighting. Her leader was staggering; struggling, even. Like the red-furred canine was winning the battle that was currently contouring. “No!” she screeched, her lungs burning as she tried her hardest to scramble her way towards the direction of the leader. Flecks of scarlet flashed across her peripheral vision, her heart accelerating like crazy as she tried to trudge her way over towards the staggering leader. Her paws felt like they were sluggish and time felt like it was being frozen in place. Her own body felt like it was failing to properly make its way toward her leader in time; the calico helplessly watching as the fox engaged its powerful jaws around her leader’s neck, tightening its grip and tugging fiercely as a sudden splatter of scarlet flashed across Springpaw’s vision. The fox had successfully torn out the arteries among her leader’s throat; the fur among its chest sodden with crimson as it dropped the deceased body with restless ease. Hunger showed itself in the deepest depths of its emotionless hazel eyes, accompanied by the occasional dripping of blood that came from its narrowed muzzle. Springpaw felt the bile taste of terror rise up to the back of her throat, her paws gaining momentum as she struggled to back away against the beast’s intent gaze. Fear and adrenaline rushed through her system as she stared through the crimson-stained camp. Where was she supposed to run? Where was she supposed to go? How was she going to get out of this mess?
A flash of red suddenly sped into her view as her small body was quick to be thrown into the coarse dirt below; a frightened yelp escaped her throat as she helplessly landed on her back. A sharp, numbing pain grew up her spine as her brain worked itself restlessly to understand what was going on. Her vision blurred as pressure was suddenly being pressed against her throat; her body screaming desperately for air as she felt large paws putting pressure against her throat, almost quickly making her air-flow come to almost an abrupt stop. Stars, was she dying? Was this how she was going to die? Her ears roared against the blood pumping through them; the ravenous sounds of the screeching of her clan-mates and snarling of the foxes echoing through her ears. A drench of fear and hopelessness tugged into Springpaw’s heart like claws prickling like sharp thorns on a rose. The medicine apprentice desperately raked her back claws across the beast’s underbelly, using all of her strength to try to push the canine off of her body. However, her smaller, weaker body couldn’t fully push the red-furred canine off of her, only just further worsening the situation as the canine threw its bloodied muzzle downwards and spread its jaws wide; revealing a set of bloodied, white-yellow canine teeth. Springpaw could easily feel its hot, rancid breath landing right directly at her face and she easily felt the bitter taste of bile creep up towards the back of her throat. She had to get herself out of this situation, now. Twisting her smaller body, the oriental calico tried to use her front claws to hook themselves into the dirt below so that she could haul herself out from underneath the fox’s grasp, but it seemed that the fox was quick to beat her first.
The beast was quick to swipe its muzzle downwards to stop her from making any potential progress from escaping, pressing its powerful jaws against her throat as it held a tight grip, enough to make the apprentice’s breath hitch as her claws instinctively aimed for the creature’s face, digging her tiny claws into the reddish-tawny fur that quickly tainted in red as small droplets of scarlet dripped down its forehead, puddling the crimson-stained soil with tiny droplets of blood. A muffled yip escaped the fox’s throat as it almost instinctively yanked its head back, only causing the young apprentice to wince against the sudden pressure that was forced upon her neck. She could easily feel its jagged teeth tear through the soft flesh among her throat, making a stifle of panic strike through Springpaw like a rocket. She couldn’t get killed like this. Not now. She was still serving her clan as a medicine cat. Her clan needed her. Forcefully, the apprentice began to desperately try to tug herself away from the fox as she resisted the urge to scream against the ripping of her own flesh among her throat. Blood began to rapidly speed down the sides of her throat like a roaring waterfall, staining the vibrantly white fur amongst her neck. The fox’s grip only tightened, and Springpaw felt her own vocal cords crush and tear against the lethality of the grip. Blood bubbled within the midst of her throat and she could easily taste it at the back of her throat and against her tongue, some of it easily bubbling out of the corners of her jaws. Darkness began to dance around the corners of her vision, each staggering breath that she took in grew more and more difficult to take in. Stars, she was dying. She was dying and she couldn’t do anything about it. She was dying and she wasn’t going to be saved. Stars, she couldn’t help anyone. How was she espoused to tell the ones the one thing that she wanted to say? How were they espoused to know that she loved and cared for them deeply? Closing her eyes, the calico molly tried to think away from the pain, and allowed herself to mentally think of the final words that popped at the top of her head.
I’m sorry…
—
The soft rumbling of distant thunder against the light rain quickly echoed through her eardrums, the molly forcefully opening her eyes as Springpaw popped her head up from the comforting nest of her moss-bed, allowing herself to take in deep, controlled gulps of air as her claws were sunken into the deepest depths of the green plant that she laid atop of. She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t killed. Foxes weren’t in the territory. Springpaw stared out into the darkened abyss of the rainy clearing as she watched the raindrops fall onto the sodden soil. It wasn’t stained with crimson from a fox invasion that was herded to come to her own home by ShadowClan themselves. Springpaw felt her muscles tense and stiffen, the young feline briefly casting her gaze over towards the slumbering form of her mentor, watching as her chest slowly rose and fell from her deep sleep. Springpaw blinked slowly as her peripheral vision grew adjusted to the darkened atmosphere around the usually dim den, peering her gaze away from Drizzlecloud’s sleeping body as she rose herself to her paws, trying to think away from the concurrent events that had occurred in her dream. What in the world was that even all about? Was StarClan trying to tell her that foxes were going to be invading camp? Were they trying to tell her that it was ShadowClan’s doing? Could it… could it be Coldamber that sent her that ravished dream? A small shudder ran through Springpaw’s body, the calico tentatively digging her claws further more into the soft moss beneath her snow-white paws. She needed something to clear her mind. Something to ease the thoughts that were now running on full-circle as she stood there awake and practically alone.
Stifling a short sigh, Springpaw pushed herself off of the bed as her paws landed on the cooler ground of the medicine den, her body met with a brief wave of the breeze rustling through her fur. It didn’t feel normal, not after what she had just witnessed from her single dream. ShadowClan. Foxes. Those were the main things that were echoing through her mind at the single moment. Bumblestar needed to know about this as soon as possible… but would she believe that StarClan had been merely trying to send her a warning in the middle of the night? Springpaw felt her brain slowly become overworked from her overthinking, the white-tip of her long-furred tail whisking against her incessant thoughts. Stars, she needed a break, and someone to talk to. She couldn’t simply pull herself back to sleep after what she had just witnessed. Not until she spoke with someone, at least. Glancing back towards the entrance of the den, the calico began to trek her way up towards the moonlit entrance; her eyes watching as the rain dropped onto the sodden ground and decorated it with large, messy puddles. How much rain has been happening here lately? She wasn’t sure, but nonetheless, she needed something to ease her troubled mind. Maybe rain-watching in the middle of the night would do the trick?
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@Omari [ this took me most of the day to write so i deeply apologize if it's messy! but wooo here’s some spring trauma from receiving a vision/prophecy that totally wasn’t more like a ravished nightmare! this child gets zero breaks whatsoever #air ]
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⊱ future carrd ◦ future roleplay tracker ◦ future character bio ⊰
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August 23rd, 2023, 03:36 PM
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![Omari's Avatar](image.php?s=0f0dfd1cb647c455ba477583b4c0dd25&u=18619&dateline=1720395053) |
the flower girl
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Join Date: Apr 2023
Status: head empty
Gender: cis woman, she/her <3
Bump Policy: 72 hours!!
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Re: crimson streaks as red as a fox’s pelt [p]
Drizzlecloud
Thunderclan
She/her
Unlike her apprentice, Drizzlecloud’s dreams were completely clear of any deep meaning. Then again, the Medicine Cat rarely dreamt of anything at all when she slept. Well, maybe she did have dreams, but she never seemed to remember them when she woke up. Maybe it was because she never managed to fall into a deep sleep, always easy to rise even at the smallest of sounds or movements. You’d think that an almost entirely deaf would be difficult to wake up, but not with Drizzlecloud’s heightened perception it wasn’t!
Physically, she could feel a lot more than the average cat could. Due to her hearing impairment, she depended a whole lot more on her other senses than she did her hearing–especially her sense of touch. Over the years of adapting, she had become exceptionally aware of vibrations due to movement.
When her apprentice had initially been roused out of her moss bed, Drizzlecloud still lay sleeping, her fluffy tail-tip curled over her ash-gray nose. What woke her up was Springpaw’s pawsteps as she headed over to the mouth of the den. The young molly hadn’t been loud by any means, no, but she could just feel it–and Drizzlecloud was an absurdly light sleeper, as well.
Her left ear twitched, and her slowly blinked open. It took her a moment for her eyes to get accustomed to the dark atmosphere, and she lifted her head ever so slightly when she noticed that Springpaw wasn’t sleeping anymore– oh. There wasn’t enough time for Drizzlecloud to feel any panic at the sight of her apprentice being gone, because as she turned her head towards the den’s entrance, she saw Springpaw just… Sitting there. Watching the rain. A little odd, if you ask her, but what did she know? Maybe Springpaw had a nightmare or just couldn’t fall asleep again. Either way, Drizzlecloud didn’t feel like leaving her all on her lonesome, so she lifted herself out of her cozy moss bed to see what was going on.
With a long stretch and a yawn, she slowly sauntered her way over to the mouth of the den, humming a soft, 'Hey,' as she appeared at Springpaw’s side. For a few moments, she was silent, her gaze glued to the dark, cloudy skies above. On nights like this, she was often reminded of herself. The night that she was found, to be quite frank. After all, that storm was the very reason for the name that she carried today. With a quiet sigh she dismissed her thoughts, and she turned her head to look at her apprentice instead.
“You’re up early,” She leaned over to press her side against the small molly. “Don’t suppose you’re itching to send out herb patrols before the sun’s even come up yet, are you?” A joke, of course. A playful little way of asking her, why?
[ @ ares , very sorry!! Goodness, I had lots of things to catch up on after last weekend haha ]
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