Open Camp a riot quietly amassed // CAMP DISCOVERY

[SABLESTAR]

His paws carried on far longer than Sable would have expected, his lungs pulling for every inhale as though it might be his last, rattling from the near-death of choking beneath Hawthorne's paws. The scruff he held between his teeth didn't help, but he doesn't shred a single muffled word or sparing glance as he led on. To the shadows, he said, and he followed any path devoid of light to fall into. Were it not for the snow-dipped fur of his, the darkness could have swallowed him whole.

Do they suffer from his madness? Was he, really, to suggest Hawthorne's strength was solely a facade? It was undeniably ego that fueled the core belief that he could do better, but to deny all faults, to lay down excuses in place of action angered him more. Sable would not give any such thing to the cats beside him tonight. Hawthorne's softness had given him time to form another plan, he only needed to uncover one thing; how had this one failed?

The timing of rainfall seemed only fitting for their losses, and the scent surrounding the pines became murky. Finally, a sound rose from his maw- muttered swear from Smudge's scruff as he paused to look around. A single token of luck tossed his way, something of a path had begun to appear and curiously does he follow it. The land began to dip down and the tuxedo unsheathed his claws to find some grip in the soggy mud. He can see it now, amidst the darkness does the white cedar glow like a beacon, luring them into safety.

Smudge is gently dropped down once they reach more leveled ground, and Sable turned his head to take in the scene. Shrubbery here and there, twin stones pit against the other, natural walls surrounding the muddy slip they climbed down from. With enough effort they could make their own home in this place.

Sable stood with his back to the cedar now, looking to the remains of those who fought for him, killed in his name. Those that lost in his name.

"The rain will hide our trail perfectly, we can rest here tonight. Lick our wounds and recuperate from our losses." His eyes search for Cicada in the crowd, hoping they had been able to get out alive after their talk. "They may have won this battle, but this war has just begun. We can discuss continuing our plans further in the morning... if you still wish to stand beside me." The tuxedo tilted his chin up against the rain, bracing the judgements they may have, the frustrations they may lash at him. He would not hide from it.

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• // @Smudge tagged for direct interaction
  "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･sixty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[vampire]

trigger warning This post includes descriptions of blood and injury.

Drip. Drip.

The noisome gush of crimson from the cross Wolfy—Werewolf—had hewn into her chest has eased to a slow trickle. The quiet sound of it is almost more annoying than any great loss of blood, what with the soft drips as droplets find their way into the black, sucking mud already staining the paws not already naturally night-washed.

Vampire's face is a careful mask of serenity, but she has to work for it, and she's not quite used to earning things. The plink-plonk of her blood is not really that annoying, nor is the rainfall stinging her chest wound, nor the soggy ground that clings lovingly to her forepaws. Or so she decides, anyways.

He squints dark eyes into the filmy rain, a bleached treetrunk standing out glaringly in the darkness, much like his own pelt. It is a great effort to maintain some modicum of grace as she slips down into the closest thing to a hollow this dark place can boast, but she manages it. Their paws scuffle in the mud and faintly they wonder what Werewolf is doing right now, but they're too tired to be lonesome just yet.

Trying to keep some kind of neatness in this swamp-slick land, Vampire draws their paws up close together, their neck a long swan-line bleeding into their chest—literally—marked by a messy score of red. The stinging goes all the way down to halfway through the belly they'd thought might carry their lover's kits. The wound's a child of a kind, they suppose, nursed on mutual bloodshed.

They shake their head, hating how scruffy she feels already, trying to dislodge the thoughts like the gloop currently melting into their snowy foreleg. Vampire draws herself up anew and watches as Sable—unfortunately, she can no longer pretend not to know who he is—prowls into the front, making what she supposes is a stab at an inspiring speech. Because inspiring speeches so often start with let's lick our wounds.

" I suspect there will be plenty of licking of wounds to go around, and so plenty of time for talk. " Their husk of a meow is low, half-meant to carry to the cat before them and half-not. Her throat hurts when she speaks, but having walked this far, she is surely owed her few remarks. She pauses, sifts her words like grains of falling sand, wanting to make her small mark in this moment. Still in her half-shadow voice, she mrrows, " As for myself, I sincerely doubt I can turn back now—I suspect few of us can. We are in it for the long haul, as it may be. "​

 

[spider]

Spider comes up beside Vampire, steps light and unhindered by injury. He had not been fool enough to rush straight into battle, he was smaller and weaker than most of the cats there. He could've attacked a kit, perhaps, but even Sable would've frowned upon that. If he'd tried, it would've just been another injury for them to tend to, another mouth that cannot hunt for itself. He looks around at the cats surrounding Sable.

"I'm sure that soft heart of Hawthorne's would accept you back into their midst if anyone regrets their decision," he meows, sweet venom dripping from the words. He turns to Sable, blinking. "I do not like the idea, however, of waging war in leaf bare. It could just as easily back fire and leave us without any capable hunters to keep the injured alive. We'd risk starving to death."

 

[SHADE]

☆ Shade's paws dutifully followed Sable's figure- his adoptive brother. He mulled over that thought as the wounds on his body stung, from nameless faces he hadn't made effort to learn. His eyes are downcast, carrying only himself and the half-strewn thought of is this really what we wanted? bouncing around in his skull. Caretakers killed, family last. Not that he had much to speak on, beyond his adoptive brother.

A breath left him, curling white, as he trudged through muck churned from rain and pawsteps, ducking into the newfound 'home' alongside the rest. Gray eyes skeptically skipped over any indent that they made be able to punch into this place just before Sable began speaking. He looks towards him, a frown finding his face regardless of the thoughts of agreement in his head. "... Vampire is right." He utters, finding his tongue stabbed with the bitter thoughts yet.

".. I'll make nests, come dawn." He said quietly, ignoring the stinging of wounds on his paws, his back. He had fought, for Sable. For not going hungry anymore. He had fought for himself, to keep them all alive.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ HOW AM I SUPPOSED ☆ TO LIVE LIKE THIS?

• "speech"
  

• 

• SHADE AMAB he/him, LONER of the COLONY, seventeen moons.
  ☆ An average sized dark pelted tom with heavy bangs over gray eyes. A notable scar on his left cheek. Looks at you with skepticism (and awkwardly.)
  ☆ mentored by npc / mentoring no one (currently)
  ☆ npc x npc / no mate currently
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[BONE]

With quiet steps she follows behind silently. Lingering at the back of the herd that follows after their leader. For the moment she says nothing, blood dripping down from the side of her cheek. Though it hardly falls upon the ground now as time wears on. Her body feels heavy from exhaustion, but she keeps moving because that is demanded of her. To keep up the farce of strength even when all else has failed. She knows what she is capable of and she she knows she will follow after Sable till her last breath. Keeping this knowledge sacred she finally stops when all the others do and with little thought to anything at the moment she licks a paw to drag it against her cheek. It burns, stings and she grunts lowly before her ears pull forward at the talk. "If they choose to run away now then what was the point of fighting beside you to begin with?" It's a rhetorical question and she does not mean to gain an answer from it. Instead her fiery eyes blink slowly and she nods her head casually because she plans to stay. Despite everything her heart is here.

Not with soft fueled cats. Her pale paw drops and she shakes her head a little as she glances to Spider. It is too pate to think about war in leaf bare. It's already here to ravage them and they will have to fight through it. With the notion in mind she flicks her rail and looks around what is to be their place of rest. The idea of nests is a good idea and she rises to her paws carefully. "We will need some kind of protection, I can gather brambles maybe to create a wall in the morn. Or if you need help Shade...." Her offer is open if he needs it.

 

[Smudgepaw]

Smudge

---

It happened so fast.

Smudge looks around, dully wondering where they were — Sable's voice fills the clearing with a deep, gruff sound, but Smudge's gaze is uncharacteristically empty. Nothing…

There's nothing. Feeling numb is better than the alternative. "Mum…she's––!" Smudge didn't understand. The tortoiseshell she-cat's breathing begins to fluctuate as she thinks about the battle. Why…? Why did Hawthorne tell Smudge to hide? Why were they fighting? Why did Nightingale have to die? "Sable," Smudge looks up at the wounded tom-cat with a blank expression. Her ears are ringing. "…We left her behind." She says with an atypical voice. There's blood on the tortoiseshell she-cat's face.

It's Nightingale's blood.​

 

[Wolf]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

---

Wolf wasn't sure how to feel about Sable being the one to call for a retreat. On one paw, his plan had been for Hawthornes group to end up the outsiders left picking up whatever scraps of territory and prey they could get. But on the other paw, it wasn't a complete loss- there were still plenty of cats in the group, enough so that he didn't just cut his losses and head back to twolegplace.

No, instead he followed in the opposite direction, body stinging from wounds, fur caked in blood that was barely his own, right across the thunderpath and into the marshland beyond.

Firm ground gave way to muddy slush patched throughout with islands of firmer, soggy, mossier ground. Between the blood, the rain, and the puddles under his feet, Wolf felt far from clean, but it wasn't the first time he'd found himself in such a state and it likely wouldn't be the last. Still, the mottled tom didn't seem half as bothered as some of the others, cats who insisted on pausing to shake the mud from their feet or darting from shrub to shrub to hide from the rain.

They were already wet, no point in slowing down to try and avoid it when they could just move their asses and find shelter.

He kept toward the outer edges of the group, among the stronger cats who still had some fight left in them. While he couldn't say he felt particularly protective of these cats, he was smart enough to recognize an asset worth protecting. Shaken kits, rattled queens, weaker cats trying to comfort and guide. They'd have other uses, assuming they didn't buckle under the pressure of what had just happened.

When Sable called for a stop, it was hardly in an ideal place. The territory itself wasn't what most cats would call 'ideal'; wet, smelly, covered in mud. He was pretty sure he hadn't smelled hide nor hair of a mouse since arriving, and on top of the cold and slush, the place was downright miserable compared to the barren little forest they'd just come from.

Pity Sable had chosen to head in this direction when the moors, wetlands, and various other forests were nearby, but it wasn't the worst place to for them to have landed. There was some prey to be scented even if it was unusual, and the thunderpath would be a nice deterrent for anyone trying to come after them. The land was well covered too, thick underbrush painting the swampy landscape and offering shelter from the wind. Even the little clearing in this muddy pit they were using as a camp didn't hold the same bite as their last one.

Vampire was right about them not having much choice in the matter now, though. It wasn't like Hawthorne would take any of them back, and even if he did, what would they be going back to? Dried up hunting grounds and a leader who didn't know his head from his ass?

"Wouldn't hurt to recuperate. At least until we can get some eyes on the other group and see how they're doing." Wolf added after Spider, not particularly worried about losses, but cunning enough to recognize a good strategy when he saw one. "If Hawthorne keeps them in the same place, we'd only need a week of good hunting before we could overpower them."

Scrawny, hungry cats would be no match for a patrol of well-fed fighters.

"I can take watch up top with another cat. Make sure nobody from the other group comes sniffing around. I imagine any returning hunters and gatherers will need a heads-up on where the pit is anyway. Broken bones are a bitch to fix." It would be the worst ending to an already shitty night for the cat that went stumbling through the pond pines only to slip down the bank of the camps walls.

​

---

loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars​

​

 

[ember]

This decision has cost her everything. Glimpses of pale fur in the corner of Ember's vision are oft mistaken for Frond and her heart lurches with brief spells of hope, but her sun-scented mate had not joined them. A generous pawful of Colony cats are here, stood together with sodden wounds in pouring rain, directionless— she blinks tears of frustration from her eye and hopes they go unnoticed in the dark of the night.

"So what is your plan, @SABLE ?" Ember snaps, uncaring of his assertion that they would discuss such things in the morning. She stops leaning on @Scorpiontear enough to square her shoulders, a scowl twisting her sharp muzzle. She doesn't crowd the older tom's space, doesn't even move closer, but her brittle voice cracks under the weight of her demand.

"We've run from this fight at your suggestion. Surely you have an idea of what comes next." Right? Ember has no intention of swallowing her pride and making a return to Hawthorne's camp. She just hopes, somewhere in the pit forming in her stomach, that Sable has calculated this effort more than she assumes.

 

[Coalstrike]

I'LL SHOW NO MERCY, I'LL SHOW NO REMORSE.

——————————​

When Sable's voice rang out, ordering the retreat, Charcoal had to bite back a growl of disapproval. Retreat. The word churned in his mind like bile. There had been a chance to win, however slim, and sometimes sacrifices were necessary. Those who couldn't hold their own in battle didn't deserve to survive this life. It was as simple as that.

Blood dripped steadily from his maw as he surveyed the remaining cats who had chosen to follow Sable, his amber eyes narrowing in irritation. The rain might obscure their trail, but retreating into its cover felt weak. And then what? Hide like frightened prey? He snorted softly, shaking his head. Pathetic.

Despite his disdain, Charcoal turned to Sable, his gaze hard but measured. For now, he would grant him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

His ears swiveled as the murmurs of the gathered cats rose, each voice carrying its own shade of frustration, confusion, or weariness. His eyes flicked from one to the next, narrowing slightly when they landed on Ember. She had the audacity to voice the question no one else dared: What now?

Charcoal's tail lashed once as he stepped forward, breaking the silence that followed. " Rest seems commendable. " he said, his tone low and firm. " But more importantly, assess our losses, and count those still fit to fight. " He let his gaze sweep over the others, unflinching, as if daring them to argue.

" There's no point in another battle if our warriors aren't ready for the challenge. " The unspoken truth lingered in his words: If they couldn't fight, they weren't worth keeping.

His gaze returned to Sable, though his voice carried to all. " I assume morning will bring clarity. Until then, we can lick our wounds, rest our paws. "

—————————————————————————————————

I'll watch the battle until the dust is clear.

 

[Flamerunner]

FLAME OF THE COLONY

Flame padded silently alongside the group, his steps steady but weighted with unease. He kept close to Marble, his gaze briefly drifting to her and the young one with her. She seemed shaken, her movements stiff, her eyes shadowed with worry... but there was a spark of determination in the way she carried herself. It was a small reassurance, though his whiskers twitched with lingering unease.

Blue eyes swept over the others as they padded on, taking in their worn faces and unsteady steps. Every pawstep felt heavy, like the weight of death still clung to them, dragging them down. He couldn't shake the question echoing in his mind: How many lives had been claimed today? And how many of those had been taken by their own claws?

When Sable called for a halt, Flame's steps slowed before coming to a stop. His ears twitched as he glanced around the unfamiliar terrain. The forest was behind them now, replaced by something harsher, emptier. This wasn't home, not yet, and maybe not ever. It was just... different. A place to stop, to catch their breath. But was it somewhere they could truly stay?

Flame gave a soft snort, tilting his head slightly as he licked a paw and drew it over his face. The movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to clean away more than just the dirt of the journey.

He had fought. He might even be wounded, though he hadn't stopped to check. But at least he hadn't killed. That thought was a fragile comfort, one he clung to in the face of the uncertainty swirling around them.

As the others began to speak, he remained quiet, his ears swiveling toward the conversation. He would listen, observe, and wait. Words could come later... when he was sure they wouldn't betray the unease gnawing at him.

He had brought Needle to safety... Found her with a dead cat...

RUN BOY RUN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— THE SUN WILL BE GUIDING YOU

 

[Sealpaw]

┍❆

Seal could not get the image of Leopard's unseeing gaze out of her head; blue eyes near mirroring her mother as she stared blankly ahead, soft sniffles occasionally escaping her mouth. Who could have done such a thing to her mother? Leopard had never been mean to anyone, she didn't deserve to die. Not like that. Why had everyone been fighting in the first place? Weren't they all supposed to be like one big family? That was what Leopard had said, once.

She hadn't noticed that they had stopped until Marble set her down on the muddy ground and the kit idly looked up at the rain with a frown before taking in her surroundings. This wasn't anything like the colony's camp, it was wet and smelled funny and...she didn't like it. This was not home. Home was... Home was where Leopard was, but... There was a sudden twinge of unfamiliar tightness in Seal's chest as she finally let out a sob at Smudge's statement about her own mother.

"We left my mama too," Seal turned to look up at Sable, vision clouded with tears that wouldn't stop no matter how much she tried to blink them away. "We...we have to go back for her. Why did this happen..? W-who would k-" She found that she couldn't even finish the thought and dissolved into quiet tears.

She missed her mother. She wanted to go home.

❆┙

*•.¸❆

─WAVING THROUGH A WINDOW─

❆¸.•*

• 
  Seal
  — Shadowclan Apprentice
  — She/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  — Grey, Rosetted Tabby With Blue Eyes And A Bobbed Tail.
  #4c66bf

 

[Timberfrost]

—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦

Timber had been alone for a while, and he had to admit it was wearing on him. He was used to the sodden environment at least - he could stomach the food around, be it rather... froggy for his tastes. But the crippling loneliness was another beast altogether. The tom couldn't even imagine going back to his friends at this point, though. He'd made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. Quite literally, he had made his own little home with his kit not far from here. It wasn't perfect, but it kept her warm and out of the rain and that was really all he was worried about at the moment. For now, they were both safe, and he was happy.

Timber mulled over these thoughts quietly as he started towards his normal hunting grounds, muttering curses about the cold rain soaking the ground - before stiffening at the sound of a voice not far away, seeming to come from this sort of divot in the ground he had stumbled upon once before. He didn't spend much time there when he did find it. It was much too noticeable of an area for him to feel comfortable in for long, and besides, the mud got slippery in rain like this. The tall tom didn't dare make his presence known immediately, instead opting to duck behind a tree closer to where the walls only just began to form. These cats... something terrible happened, he found himself thinking, stomach turning queasy at the dulled smell of blood that hit his nose. He couldn't imagine how bad it would've been had it not been raining, or even if there were even more cats, more bodies laying hidden further in.

Swallowing nervously, Timber kept watching with wide, golden eyes through the shrubbery at the cats passing by, only a few bounds away - hopefully he wouldn't get caught, but he was all too aware of how starkly the white parts of his fur would stick out against the dark mud around him if he wasn't careful.

It's true, I want to be with you tonight

But I'm a little too late

• 
  Timber
  ✦—Future Shadowclan Caregiver
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
  #9A775A

 

[vampire]

" It is not Hawthorne I was worried about, believe me, "

Vampire mutters, and though her voice is poisoned with a drop of nettle-bitterness, when she looks over at Spider, her dark eyes are fox-shiny and unreadable. His words are as if a rabbit had scampered through their midst, kicking up muddy snowflakes that refused to settle. Discussion breaks out—over a potential war, over Sable's leadership.

He eyes Bone through the rising din; the younger shecat puts a good question to the others, and a better suggestion. Paws in motion, in any direction, are far better than those sitting still, collecting muck. The sentiment held true, too, for the mind. He begins,

" Perhaps it might be prudent— "

A rustle of brown against brown—and a stark flash of white against the general filth. Accursed as she was with a blinding pelt, she could double that devil when it came to turning it around. A rusty growl starts to kick up low in her chest. Had Hawthorne had the nerve, the absolute gall, to send a spy after them already? She'd not have thought him capable of such a thing so soon, to be frank.

No matter—clearly his sent assailant was a caliber below the rest, if the stranger was so poor at concealing himself. Or at noticing her, as she slips on velvet paws towards him. Vampire makes a last long bound, deerlike through the muck, and attempts to pounce on the tall shape there and press their forepaw to his throat. They grit their overlong fangs against the insistent sear their chest wound—their brand—raises at the sudden movement.

" A spy? "

he mrrows almost thoughtfully. This cat does not exactly look wartorn—large, yes, but not marked with the fresh wounds they'd all left the battle with. Lucky, maybe. Vampire tightens their grip.

" Did Hawthorne send you? Speak, or you risk your pelt. "

// interacting with @Timberfrost

​

 

[Timberfrost]

—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦

He was only able to overhear the slightest bit of conversation of the gathering below, as unfortunately his vantage point wasn't the best and the rain certainly didn't do the tom any favors. Timber shifted uneasily, leaning out just a bit further from the shrubbery he was attempting to hide behind. Either way, he thought to himself, it was probably not wise for him to stay here for long, not with his kit still waiting his return at home. Not when the world was filled with so many dangers, so many things that wanted to hurt her - it was best just to keep moving, find somewhere else to live.

On second thought, he probably should've been more concerned with his own safety. A loud yelp escaped from his mouth as something quick and white darted from the shrubbery beside him, pushing him squarely off his feet and knocking all the wind out of him. For a moment, he tried desperately to scrape at his unknown assailant, flailing limbs looking for hold on the weight that was now on his throat. If he were to find it, however, his claws wouldn't sink in as the words the other spoke finally made sense in his brain. "I- I'm sorry?" Timber said incredulously, head still spinning from the force of getting knocked to the ground. The stench of iron was strong on this cat, and the sudden strength of it made his head go a bit funny. "I Live Here, and I can assure you this... Hawthorne fellow didn't send me." The tom winced a bit, trying to push the other's weight off his throat. "Could'ya get off? I can't exactly-" He did his best to take a deep breath of air. "Answer questions like this-" The tom squirmed a bit, his head going quite a bit slower than he would've liked in this situation. "If you wouldn't mind." Timber tried for an uneasy smile, an attempt to show that he wasn't a threat — he couldn't afford to get hurt, especially not like the cat on top of him. He thought about this quietly as he glanced at the violent red marring on the others chest, cringing a bit at the bloody sight.

It's true, I want to be with you tonight

But I'm a little too late

• // interacting with @vampire
• 
  Timber
  ✦—Future Shadowclan Caregiver
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
  #9A775A

 

[BONE]

Her unwavering molten hues flick toward Wolf for a second and then they score across Ember. Flicking her ears forward at the jagged and sharp tone that laces her tongue toward Sable. To her it sounds like complaining and oerhaps the other has a reason for it. But personally she doesn't want to hear it. Did they not choose this path themselves? Flung their very soul with Sable as they led the attack? Her maw twists slightly before settling and she sighs before rolling her eyes toward another that speaks up. Her gaze lingers then on Charcoal but she merely shrugs her shoulders. By all accounts they can waste time trying to access all of the damages. But she would rather keep moving and make something of the place they have slink through the darkness to. As observant as she is the woman keeps her tongue to herself. Only speaking when she feels like it and then she notices the white sharp movement. Vampire quick on their paws as she pins some poor trespassing cat down. Her own limbs move and she finds herself stepping over to the scene, tilting her head. "You live here?" She sounds like she doesn't believe it and honestly she is inclined to follow in Vampire's lead.

Seal speaks up about having left her mom behind. Many will be broken and wounded from separation but it is the price that is paid. Right? She hardly cares as long as she has her sister with her.

Why else would a stranger just happen upon them if not a spy for them. Yet he keeps rambling on and doesn't seem to even know who Hawthorne is. Prattling on about letting him up so he can speak. And give him some kind of advantage she thinks not. "If you are not with them then how long have you exactly lived here? Don't be shy about details. We don't have time for that." Her eyes then cut to Sable. Curious on how he feels about the situation. She knows how she feels but she will stay her claws for the moment even if she is restless.

 

[fennelpaw]

(‎♝) breath heaves from the boy's chest as he trails after the fleeing colonists, keeping hazel bright eyes fixed on his savior. sable leads the group with his skunk striped tail kinked over his back, kingly even as he retreats from his rightful place of living. the tomcat's survival keeps the fire lit inside of fennel, and he presses on with renewed strength, even as his flanks sting with scratches, as the x-shaped mark on his shoulder, branding him a defector, oozes with shed crimson. as the group trundles into their new camp, the young tom glances around, suddenly very aware that he is so, so very alone.

his gaze shifts from sable, seeking out mottled fur amongst the crowd, scanning for ginger, for vanilla, for any familiar face besides the older cats he has dutifully followed into these marshes. seal's small voice breaks through the fog within fennel's head, and he swings his head towards the spotted girl. "your mother is..." he begins, and then pauses, swallows. leopard's clouded blue gaze fills his mind. "never mind." voice trailing off, he breaks eye contact, turning to search for his siblings again. the arrival of a newcomer hardly phases the tom, too focused on finding gin and van, curling close to them, and allowing himself to process.

WAS YOUR SOUL REDISCOVERED? ‎♝ WAS YOUR HEART REARRANGED?

• // looking for @ginger and @Vanilla <3 " #8f4a1e "
• 
• FENNEL ‎♡ HE / HIM, SHADOWCLAN APPRENTICE. 7 MOONS, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a shorthaired chocolate smoke ghost tabby with hazel eyes. dark chocolate fur covers his body, sliced through with darker stripes, barely visible in direct sunlight. his eyes seem a deep pine hue, but within them, a cinnamon-red color peaks through, fading into hazel. he has an x shaped scar on his shoulder, and a scar through his lip from a spat with a rogue.

 

[Scorpiontear]

Count your blessings ♦ Count your minutes

Once, @ember's weight against Scorpion's shoulder would have been shrugged off with a playful sneer and a jibe at being unable to carry her own weight. Now, however, he misses it as she pulls away to speak to sable, her breaking voice causing pain in his chest. While he hadn't liked Frond much and knew they were on bad terms, their rebellion had cost his rival her long-time mate, had split her family. It had put her kittens at risk.

He'd supported Sable's feud, but that fight hadn't been what they were promised.
Too much blood had been spilt pointlessly.

"Rest. Lick our wounds. Then what?"

He snarled, lashing his tail behind him.

"We followed @SABLE, and all it has done is put us in a worse position than we started with. We have a right to know what he plans to do next."

Scorpion's gaze was narrowed as he spoke to @Charcoal with his eyes never straying from their leader's black and white coat.

Played my game ♦ Hell, now you're in it

 

[Coalstrike]

I'LL SHOW NO MERCY, I'LL SHOW NO REMORSE.

——————————​

Sharp eyes tracked the young ones as they chattered about their mother, his tail flicking with a deliberate snap of irritation. Their sentimentality was wasted energy. If their mothers had been stronger, they would still be here, it was as simple as that. His voice cut through their chatter like ice.

" We are not returning for your mother. She will remain where she is. Fret not, and be grateful you were not among the casualties. "

The cold declaration caused Marble to lift her head, a frown etched deeply into her face. Her disapproval was palpable, but he ignored it, his amber gaze sweeping across the group. His ear twitched, catching a sound that didn't belong to the weary group or the whispering forest around them. Something... or someone, was out there.

Before he could act, Vampire was already on the move, her sharp instincts driving her forward to intercept. His tail twitched in satisfaction as he watched her, always quick to take initiative. Tilting his head slightly, he observed the brief scuffle that followed, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the intruder, a tom claiming this land as his own. Interesting. This one might prove useful. For now, he kept his distance, his massive frame still as he listened.

His gaze shifted to Bone as she spoke, her words measured but holding weight, then to Fennel, who was faltering in his explanation to Seal. The younger cat was visibly struggling with the weight of the truth. " Don't be shy about it, Fennel. " he grunted, his voice dripping with indifference. " It is what it is, best give the young one the truth rather than a lie or shy away from the subject. The molly lost her life in battle. A pity. "

He turned his attention to Scorpiontear, who stood nearby, sharp and attentive as ever. His amber eyes glinted in the low light, a silent signal of shared purpose.

" Surely, answers must come. " he rumbled, his tone low but firm.

—————————————————————————————————

I'll watch the battle until the dust is clear.

 

[Marbleshine]

MARBLE OF SHADOWCLAN

Marble padded firmly alongside the others, her steps steady despite the turmoil swirling in her mind. She was determined to keep the kit she carried safe, cradling Seal close to her chest. Every so often she saw her clanmates glancing back at her, their worried eyes checking to ensure she was still following. She didn't understand what had happened. Not fully. Where were they going? Why had they left the others behind? Her brother had found her amidst the chaos, pulled her along as the others led the way, and she had instinctively taken Seal with her. What else could she do? The kit had no one else now…

The memory stung. Marble clenched her eyes shut, trying to banish the haunting image of Leopard's lifeless body. But it was futile, the sight of her friend was seared into her mind, the echoes of loss refusing to fade.

When the group finally came to a stop, Marble exhaled shakily, gently setting Seal down onto the damp, muddy ground. The new surroundings were alien, wet and unfamiliar, far from the comforts she'd known. Wolf had shown her a few places beyond the colony before, but this… this was something else entirely. Her blue eyes flickered across the group, searching until they landed on Wolf. Her worry deepened... the last time she'd seen him, he'd looked injured. She made a mental note to check on him soon. Not now, though. First, there were questions.

And answers…

Seal's soft, innocent voice cut through Marble's thoughts, addressing Sable. Was Sable their leader now? They'd left so much behind, too many unanswered questions. Her heart ached as Seal tried to make sense of the situation. Then came Charcoal's biting words. Marble's fur bristled, and she shot him a sharp, disapproving glare. Cruel. Unnecessarily so. Even if he didn't intend it, his words sliced through the fragile hope Seal clung to. Marble pressed her tail against Seal, a silent gesture of comfort.

But then there was something else, a commotion. Her eyes snapped to the stranger Vampire had dragged in. Marble tensed, unease prickling through her. A new face. A new danger?

" I don't recognize him. " she murmured softly, her brows knitting together. And she knew most everyone. She always knew everyone, social butterfly that she was.

GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND

 

[SABLESTAR]

Their reactions go swiftly, one after the other, ranging within his expectations in a mixture of doubt and stubborn faith. The tuxedo might find himself in the same position, but he knew he could not afford to doubt himself in this moment. He was have to revise and return, but for now it could wait. He would not sent them still-bloodied into the oak trees, he would not waste what they have given him and while they may not favor the pocosin he led them to, Sable found himself warming up to it.

"Sable," A stinging heartbeat wrought his attention to the kits approaching him. Motherless by his lead.

"We didn't leave anyone behind." Sable reassured them, though fumbling to provide anything largely empathetic. Nothing he could say would be an answer they wished to hear. Fennel is too weak to uncover any further, while Charcoal is too harsh for his liking. "Your mothers bravely fought for your futures and survival, and they will be put to rest somewhere you may visit... one day." Bound by honor and chivalry, he had known Hawthorne long enough to believe he would not simply cast them aside from buzzards and crowfood.

Wolf received a quick nod of approval for taking initiative first, then looking to Ember and facing her frustration with a tilt of his chin. "I've planned for as many possibilities as I could." It made his fur prickle to lie in front of so many, but he couldn't admit he placed all his ducks in a fight. He would have to rely on his luck for now. "But there is a time and place to discuss it. I want you all focused on recovery- I will make sure myself and any other able-bodied cat makes this place comfortable until we're ready to strike again." And when he's finally weeded out whatever rat scurried into Hawthorne's ear.

Sable snapped his teeth together when a stranger made his appearance, unfamiliar dusty brown fur pinned underneath Vampire in moments. A suspected spy, and it would be difficult to convince otherwise. The rain could have made any scent tying to Hawthorne murky, but Sable was uncertain to assume himself. Hawthorne had many friends, but they never seemed too far from Fray's colony.

"Let him speak." He flicked his tail in gesture for Vampire to relent. The stranger would be a fool to attack with so many outnumbering him, even with their injuries. He glanced between Bone and Timber once more as he approached closer. "She's right, some explanation might do you a favor."

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･fifty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes