Please review the more detailed TW summary at the top of the post.
This tag is specifically for The Colony prior to the clans forming. It can still be used for any backwritten plots!

Thornstar

i'm still waiting.
ThunderClan
StarClan
Colony Clan Founder Former ThunderClan Leader
27
2
Freshkill
135
Pronouns
He/Him
trigger warning Thread contains blood and violence as well as descriptive text of a cats being killed. Please be mindful when reading!


Follow-up to THIS thread.

There was never enough time in the world for anything, neither his questions nor his heart was ever spared these days the cruely.
All he knew was according to this spirit, Sable was not going to keep his word and somehow, someway, he trusted the star dappled molly more than he had ever once trusted the tuxedo tom despite his best efforts for Juniper's sake. 'Juniper.' A brief worry gnawed at him, wondering if she was on Sable's side now or if she still supported him but he remembers their talk and his concerns ease off slightly - surely she could see as well the madness that encircled her mate. He had to trust she would see reason where Sable would not.

Hawthorne rises to stand, moving away from Serpent with one last gentle touch to her ear as she slept before he swiftly made his way out of their nest to go and rouse as many cats as he could who he knew stood firmly on his side.
"Sable means to attack us in the night, up please! We must be ready...we must take the fight to him." He will not be leapt upon by tooth and claw next to his sleeping mate, he will not bath his unborn kits in his blood. There was no more point in seeking peace, he would need to speak now in the only language Sable would understand. Hawthorne was not a cat who ever considered violence an option, he always wanted a way to compromise, to resolve things peacefully but he was done. This could not stand. His father's body was freshly buried, his colony mates were struggling and the ever creeping cold of leafbare moved deeper and deeper down to the very bone; the time for seeking a calm resolution was long gone.
"Our agreement is stained with his lies, I will not lay here and wait for fangs in my neck-I've received a warning, a vision, a...it's hard to explain but I promise I will when there is time. For now we move to intercept Sable and his followers before they can ambush us." That he would be so underhanded as to do something like this, he should've never trusted the tom once. The chocolate leader stalked from nest to nest, nudging any cat who was present with his whispered warnings, ushering any too young to hide, he noted immediately several cats missing along with Sable himself and felt his blood run cold; how many agreed? How many were willing to kill for the other's unlawful claims to power? Hawthorne shook his head, moving swiftly but it seemed as though Coffeestar's warning had only given him limited time...

Ooc: Please let @SABLE & @juniper post first! (+ @serpent mention)
 
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Juniper would wake to see Sable no longer at her side when it was too late.

With his numbers gathered in the cover of night, Sable stood at the head of his supporters. Several pairs of eyes rest on him, prepared, waiting for the command to take action. To finally behead the snake before it could poison their futures any longer and see to a true leader. Whether that landed on Sable or someone else, he was willing to leave to the Colony's discretion, true to his motivations. He searched through the faces before him, confidence puffing his chest.

"Our goal is to overwhelm and subdue. I will not ask of you to lay down your fellow's friends and family's, but I trust you will do what must be done. I will seek out Hawthorne... He deserves one last chance to see reason-"

Ears perked at the sound of shouts behind him and a low hiss pushed between his teeth. Which songbird had sung his tune? He head swung back to the others, already moving forward. "We've lost the advantage of surprise, but there's still time! Move!" The dark tom ducked beneath the brittle shrubbery to lurk around the clearing beneath the oak trees, leaping from his cover to take Hawthorne as his target, attempting to shove him down onto the ground.

"You're too late! They've made their choice, Hawthorne."

  • "mew"
  • 85662181_DyROXBUrhtoDqES.png
    SABLE— he/him ・fifty-two moons ・colonist ; no clan ・penned by gonkpilled
    a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes
 
juniper

it seems unreal... surreal? to know that behind the shadows of the tall trees she might readily find her mate scheming amongst ghouls to bare his teeth against Hawthorne. the two figures she loved most... at odds, a moral war that she could not coax to a simmer. it had boiled over without her realizing- when had she lost sight of him? she lingered in her nest for as long as she could manage, nestled beside Sable, listening to the rise and fall of his chest. if she could just watch him, cling to him and tell him not to go through with this... he had to listen. he loved her.

at some point the comfort of his dozing presence must've been enough to lull her into a false sense of security. her eyes had grown heavy... until they'd fallen under the weight... and by the time her body hisses with anxious warning, he has already escaped.

Hawthorne pauses near her nest, a press of familiar, calloused paw-pad against her shoulder- aqua peeks against the exhaustion, blinking in sudden alarm as the low tones of his announcement finally click into place. no... i missed it... i didn't stop him! she turns to stare at the empty spot in their bedding, horrified that this continues.. that it is not just a nightmare.

"Hawth- I-" what was there to say? sorry? what good would that do if Sable wouldn't relent? staggering to her paws, Juniper hurries to follow him and the peace does not last long enough for her to try to appeal to him one more time- mercy, patience, just give her time to talk to him-

he has lunged for Hawthorne before she can find a solution... "Don't do this Sable," the spotted cat whines, "You're just hungry- we're all just hungry, we don't have to fight like this!" it was just one bad winter... a handful of bad hunts in a vulnerable time. they could still crawl back from this, no blood had to be drawn any further than this.

what choice had they made?

"Get off of him-" no more demands for diplomacy, no more conversation- a body presses against her back, another opportunity taken by one of her mate's cohort. the dirt is frigid... and it is stiff when she hits it with a stunned gasp. why?

what benefit would be formed in rivulets of blood?



//left it vague- anyone can be the cat that tackled her to stop her from getting in sable's way!
 
The whole subterfuge leaves an ashy taste in Dunny's mouth. Surely it's smarter than risking a heads-on confrontation where they might be outnumbered, where many more might be caught in the crossfire… Yet it doesn't feel right, to come to an agreement and then go back on it--to betray Hawthorne's meager trust. But he's thrown his weight behind Sable's words and put his faith in Sable's design, for better or for worse: his nest is made and now it's time to lie in it.

At least the black-and-white cat did not expect them to fight to maim. It's only growing pains--they'll see. Hawthorne might see reason and step down; hell, it would afford him some time to grieve in peace, without the weight of leadership which he couldn't shoulder.

Still it's almost a relief when Hawhtorne's voice rings out, snatching away their chance at surprise. Dunny isn't made for stealth anyway: his pelt stands out like a sore paw in the night. He lunges after Sable, knocking shoulder-first into the tom's own mate as their paths cross: her on his way to stop Sable, him doing what he can to make that impossible. He bears down on her with claws sheathed, his mouth close to the back of her neck but not biting down, only using his greater mass to pin her down. He pleads to the molly:
"I'm sorry, but something has to give! You know Sable-- can't you trust him as well?"


° . . °
  • ooc: tackling @juniper
  • DUNNY — HE/HIM・ 25 MOONS ・ COLONY CAT ・ PENNED BY @Kangoo
    A solidly built flame point/red tabby chimera with golden eyes and a small nick across his lips.
 
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OOC- He's got multiple fights planned so please don't interfere! <3 @Straw

Wolf had done as Sable asked and spread the word, carefully picking out those who were already behind the tom or close to being persuaded. There was no remorse over the discord he knew he was sewing. No sympathy for those who might lose loved ones and friends. No intent to show restraint once hell broke lose.

No, as much as this was a chance for Sable and his cats to take control of their own lives, it was Wolfs opportunity to thin the herd. It wasn't enough to just gain control– the colony wouldn't survive if it had all this leftover competition sitting around afterwards. There were still too many cats here. And leaving them alive now meant there'd only be more of them to deal with later.

And he didn't intend to see this scenario happen more than once.

For whatever flaws he could find in Sable, Wolf could admit the tom was not entirely useless. He may have been hesitant to do more than spark fire in his fellow cats, but now that push was coming to actual shove, the decisions being made weren't ones he hated. The mottled chimera couldn't see the point in waiting until morning either, nor understand why Hawthorn was so confident it would be a clean, honourable battle. He'd have gutted the idiot in his sleep, too.

But alas, that wasn't to be.

"Tsk." He clicked his tongue in disappointment as it became apparent Hawthorne and his cats knew they were coming. Too bad. He could have probably taken out an extra cat or two while the horde was sleeping.

And then the call was given, the fight finally on, and the dappled feline was racing forward. Wolf could not remember a time when he'd been a part of such a big skirmish, and he'd be a liar if he said there wasn't a certain rush that came at the sound of paws thundering alongside his own. [iTogether[/i]. A concept he was unfamiliar with but rapidly seeing the appeal in.
 
FLAME OF THE COLONY

Flame had never considered himself quite the violent cat, he never sought out conflict, relying heavily on his charming words, smile and extroverted nature. Preferring to bring some laughter amidst the tension that simmered in the colony... But now? Now something had to give, something had to happen...

Quell had tried to kill Sable. Not in an honourable way, no. In a coward's way. Tried to kill him without a fight, without warning him beforehand. There was no doubt in his mind anymore... The colony was on the brink of destruction. The tensions had grown too large, grown unbearable... Cracks that turned into chasms... And his heart ached with the knowledge that they were slipping into something darker... Something they couldn't reverse...

His choice had been made the moment he had stood next to Sable, spitting his anger toward Quell. His stand had been taken. He couldn't ignore the fire in Sable's eyes, the unwavering belief that their way was the only way to save what was left of their fractured colony. The doubt that clawed at him, whispering this might all lead to ruin, was pushed firmly down. Flame stood with Sable, no matter the cost...

And then the command came, the roar that split the air, the tension that had been building erupting into a violent wave of snarls. He felt his body move before his mind could catch up, his paws pounding against the earth as he charged forward into the fray. He felt his heart thunder in his chest, a storm of fear, determination and the faint echo of regret. He wasn't a violent not... But now with claws unsheathed and his comrades at his side, he fought for what he hoped would be the right thing.

For Sable. For the colony. For the chance to rebuild from the ashes of this war.

And yet, a small voice lingered in the back of his mind, asking the question he couldn't ignore: What if this is all a mistake?



RUN BOY RUN ——・゚✦
・゚✦ —— THE SUN WILL BE GUIDING YOU



 
𓆝 . ° ✦
Opportunity strikes before Blue even realizes it. All the pent up anger and energy between his colonymates- the divide that grew and festered over many moons- has finally come to a head. And Blue is here to see Sable bring it to fruition. Hawthorne's pleas are cowardly. He begs for a shield. All while Sable has made it clear to minimize the blood shed between those who support him and those who support Hawthorne. Blue's eyes dart through the crowd. He seeks Half. Whatever entity or ancestor would need to help someone badly should they hurt his sister.

But before he can even find the split-colored form of Halfy, fighting has broken out between the members of the colony. He attention is snapped to the squabbling before him. It breaks out in waves. Sable's mate finds herself pinned by Dunny between himself and where Sable lashes out at Hawthorne. "Stay down," he warns Juniper in a hiss that follows Dunny's, though his claws remain sheathed "It would do you well to figure out where your loyalties lie."

With his bitter snap, he darts forward to join Sable and the others. His claws are still sheathed, but he wonders vaguely how long it will take for that to change.

° . . °
  • ooc: —!! anybody can feel free to jump him lol just dont explode him in ur post. mentions @Halfy
  • 92445660_4FLG2r0BdRXAkKG.png
    BLUE — HE/HIM ・ 40 MOONS ・ SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR ・ PENNED BY CARAT!
    description goes here. here too.
 
Straw's right foreleg tells a story about the tom in its absence. A raw stump. A souvenir from an incident too grim to willingly recount. He gives a different tall tale every time it's asked about. And those he does tell differ as well, coloured with hyperboles and outlandishness, tailored to his whim on a given day.


Truth is, though, there's no avoiding how it informs everything else. Even more than a handicap, it's a frame of reference. It leads his grasp on precaution, on adaptation, on keeping himself from precarious situations that may claim an even larger chunk. An understanding of a certain philosophy that the cost of anything in excess is inevitably high and painful. Sable's posturing and chest-beating over leadership. A showdown to set the colony's destiny as the cold creeps closer. Both are matters which should exceed any reasonable threshold of risk. But reason has gone by the wayside. The tension is too palpable, the stakes are too high, to not choose a side.


Hawthorne splits apart the nighttime peace with a warning cry. A revelation, too—and as perilous the hour is for a spiritual awakening, Straw is nonetheless convinced to its truth. A vision? Well, there's no point in contesting it. Sleep fades from him fast, the world around him swims back into clarity; in camp, a distinct lack of Sable and those who favour him gives up their intentions plain as daylight. There's little to be said when so much has already been spilt. And so when Hawthorne rattles from nest to nest, no rebuttal nor sharp tongue from Straw waits. Instead, there's a resolute nod and a soft grimace.


He cannot fight. Not confidently, at least. Yet he trots alongside Hawthorne and the colony's numbers. He'd much rather run. His sense of self-preservation shunted in favour of taking a stand for his home. Loyalty has rewarded him well thus far. Perhaps it will win him over once again.


Straw's hope for a peaceful resolution - foolish in its pursuit - is not afforded by Sable and his coterie. His speech devolves fast, replaced by vicious snarls, spat fury and raking claws. Shock from the initial attack seizes his lungs, and the breath that was on its way out sticks in his throat. The deep waters of war have cats seething at the chance to do their worst. Hawthorne is taken by Sable, Juniper by Dunny, the landscape breaking down all too swiftly in their rage.


Hawthorne. He must protect Hawthorne. Straw locks sight on them as he rounds, hugging the fringes and easing himself into a steady sprint. "Get off him!" A fervent growl throttles through the tom's neck, loud and furious despite himself. "I said get off!" And he surges forward, lips curling over his teeth; determined and terrified to take on the Sable in that moment's gambit, not a whisker's thought is given to whether or not he'd go through with it.


// planned battle! @Wolf


(penned by willie)
 
EVERYTIME I SMILE WHILE
I'M DOIN' "FINE" DOES IT SHOW?

-
rat & 18 moons & demi-girl & she/they & the colony
-

39766986_48EpUQCH2CnA4Ni.png
Rat does not feel good about her choice - her actions. Anxiety swells in her belly, weighing her down as if ahe has swallowed stones, and green eyes look as distressed as she supposes everyone must feel. And yet -

'Will you really do it? Just... lay down and die?'

Mind coos at her, and when she thinks of all she has survived - of all the little acts of kindness that had meant nothing in the end; of scars that litter her frame and the way ribs stick out from her pelt. The endless hunger, and Hawthornes inaction. When she thinks of all that, the choice is easy - Rat is not a good cat, will never claim to be, no matter how much she wishes she was. She is a creature of blood and teeth and above all, for all that she is an ugly thing made of scars and wounds and curses, she knows she will do what she always has, and she will survive.

There is an apology in tired eyes as she lunges forwards with a snap of her jaws - she does not want this, but there had never been another choice. She was always meant to walk this path.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'

-
' C A U S E - I ' M - R E A L L Y - F R E A K I N G- O U T
-
//anyone on hawthornes side can be who she attacked, just ping ♡
 

𖧧 The feeling in her chest swings on a pendulum, sparking excitement shimmers in the comraderies she shared amongst the group that stalked in the shadows that night, yet for flash of grin came the tug of something darker, something grim. It kept her fur flat, even when the rest of this felt like an indulgence, a brief flashback to the wild fightin' days of her youth.

Is that why she was here?

Swaying Willow didn't like to think so. Sable was cunning, he spoke like he knew what it'd take to make this colony change for the better, and he acted like he knew when to put his claws where his mouth was. Quell's brazen attempt on his life was enough to convince her that everyone (on all sides) knew that it'd take a bit of bloodshed to get anywhere near a solution. She asked fate what to do to secure a future for her family, for her kid, and fate asked her if she'd be willing to fight.

Willow had never been one to back down from a fight.

She hisses lowly when their ambush is confronted prematurely, and it's only another heartbeat when claws are unsheathed, when cats lunge for each other's throats. She thinks suddenly to glance for her mate's ruddy pelt, but Towering Oak is lost in the churning sea of starlit bodies. But, they're starting to close in, and adrenaline flares through her veins once more as she leaps for one of Hawthorne's followers without hesitation, fire glinting severely in pale eyes.

"Ya wanna fight for Hawthorne so bad?" She hisses at the other she-cat while aiming a heavy blow to her face, "Then fight like you MEAN IT!"


  • ooc: briefly looking for @TOWERING OAK , then attacking @honeysuckle , pre-planned interaction currently CLOSED to attacks
  • 𖧧 swaying willow - founding colony member - fourty four moons - (amab) she/her - mated with towering oak, mother of tussle- a longhaired black and white cat with hazel eyes. athletic and hardy, but dwindling prey has taken a visible toll on her physicality.

    - brisk and bold as the first winds of leaf-fall, willow cares not for humming and hawing. a woman of action who doesn't mind getting her paws dirty, and respects anyone with a good head on their shoulders + the willingness to act accordingly.
  • penned by eezy
 
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I'LL SHOW NO MERCY, I'LL SHOW NO REMORSE.
——————————​

The big black tom stood defiantly, his amber hues fixated on the place they were to raid. He felt his claws sink into the cold damp ground as he stood. His head tilted ever the slightly, fury clear behind those eyes of his. The weaklings that would follow after Hawthorne were not his concern. They had made their bed and they would lay in it... If they could not stand down and accept, they would fall, it was as simple as that. He knew Sable told them not to kill lest it be necessary, but if one asked him... Alas, it was not his decision and for now he would respect the other's decision.

His mucles coiled beneath his black, smoky fur, eyes narrowing. He was itching for a fight... He was itching to put a certain cat on her place... Or worse. He could play it off as someone else having given the final blow. A harsh sweep of his tail as he glanced to the side to the ones who stood with them. Fray was dead. The old warrior should have given up his life long ago. His frailty had dragged on far too long, and now his weakness had led them here, to this moment of war and destruction. Charcoal could feel the heat of his own rage as the wind tugged at his fur. Every step, every heartbeat, every breath felt like confirmation that his enemies had doomed themselves simply by failing to stand strong.

Hawthorne should have handled things better in the dying leadership of his father... But he had done no such thing, only mourn a dying cat, which led to the suffering of many of the other cats. A scoff, his head lowered just a tad bit, teeth baring. Loners that joined their ranks and could actually fight and provide for the clan was one thing... Kittypets however? Disgusting. That damn kittypet would get her just deserves...

That stain on his honor, with his son having been bewitched by her.

There was a light hiss as he thought of the kittypet; Pandora. A symbol of everything he despised. Soft, weak, trust, and a luxurious life led without struggle. And his son had chosen such weakness. Charcoal would not let that get by without consequence... ' She will learn.' he thought to himself. 'I will make her suffer. She will understand what happens when you taint my bloodline and choose weakness over strength.' And when the call to attack came, his massive body shot forward, moving through the cats that dared defy him or stand in his way.

He had a goal in mind, and beware the one who stood in his way.



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


ooc: preplanned fight for charcoal on the horizon with @Sprout !! then after that he's gonna be occupied with a certain kittypet @Dewshine
 
༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — The call to battle isn't something that he had been expecting truthfully but he pushes himself to his paws anyways and follows with the rest of those that chose to stick to Hawthorne's side after the death of Fray, he can't help but swallow when it's true. The vision that Fray's son had recieved as well as the words spoken about Sable's ambush and when the two of them are face to face, the bicolored tom doesn't hesitate to throw himself at Hawthorne. That itself sets off other cats around them to attack and he can feel his hackles lift as his muscles tense up, his dark eyes searching for either of his littermates or even Scale to see if she's still at his side instead of the opposing one.

It's crazy to think that Sable had managed to gather enough followers to fight against them but the rift that Fray had caused and Hawthorne unable to do anything as he grieves someone who was bound to die. His ears lay flat and a growl slips from his throat, he would fight to make sure that his littermates are safe and those he cared for. His claws slip out from their sheaths as the large, grizzled tom prepares for any of Sable's followers to lunge and attack him. He doesn't know what the outcome from this would be but all he knows is that he must stand his ground and prepare himself for whatever blow is sent in his direction.

PY3SXXg.png

  • ooc
    — searching briefly for @grace @Crying Dove and @scale ; open to any attacks :] feel free to dm me over discord if you wanna plot something out
  • WARRIOR SKILLS;

    ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧
    HUNTING

    ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧
    TRACKING

    ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧
    COMBAT

    ✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
    STEALTH

    ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧
    STRATEGY
  • ( I WILL TRUST THE ARTIST MOLDING ME ) gentlestorm ; warrior of thunderclan

    cismale ; he/him ; 28 moons old ; ages the 27th every month

    a large, longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white markings and brown eyes

    gentlestorm's a very warm and friendly individual to those he meets. he's very social and willing to lend a paw if anyone needs it. he's someone that puts others before himself and a self-sacrificing individual that will shield others from harm's way if he can help it. it's very rare to earn his ire.

    demiromantic bisexual ; currently interested in no one

    older littermate to grace and crying dove ; currently mentoring... N/A

    "speech", thoughts, attacking ; difficult in combat/specializes in heavier attacks, his size, and strategy

    easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset ; peaceful powerplay allowed
 
RAVEN OF THE COLONY

The air was thick with the scent of fear and fury, confusion tangled in the clash of claws and teeth. Ravensmoke stood tall, his body a pillar of stone amidst the chaos. His amber eyes locked onto the battlefield, sharp and unwavering, every fiber of him alert and ready. His sister was behind him, her wide, uncertain gaze meeting his for just a heartbeat before flitting away. He felt her tension, her trembling, but there was no time to soothe her.

"Idiots!" he hissed under his breath, the venom in his tone clear. His voice was rough, as if the words themselves carried the weight of his disbelief. What were they fighting for? What had gone so wrong? The madness of the battle was meaningless, a pointless waste of life, and all he could think of was keeping her safe from the madness that consumed them all.

His muscles coiled tighter, his claws digging into the dirt as he took a slow, steady breath. His sister was his anchor, the only light in this storm. His resolve hardened. No one—no one—would lay a paw on her while he still drew breath.

His gaze snapped back to the chaos, his eyes narrowing. Every step forward from the enemy would be met with the same resolve, the same unyielding force. He would fight until his last breath if it meant protecting her from this madness.

"They'll have to go through me."



"IN THE DARK, I HEARD MY NAME." ——・゚✦
・゚✦ —— "Lift your broken crown, and let's be warriors."





@Taru raven will be fighting one of taru's! @Moth_Designs mention of silverfrost!
 

indentLook alive, Moth. This is your chance to prove yourself!

indent The little tomcat leaps from the bushes, into the fray of battle. His diminutive size allows him to slip easily between scuffles as he searches for a target. 'This shouldn't be too hard... i just need to rough someone up enough to get them out of the fight. Sable is counting on me!' Despite his peptalk, he still can't bring himself to engage with anyone. Every potential opponent is another excuse - he'd get himself killed if he fought that cat, he doesn't want to fight anyone under 12 moons, that cat is barely doing anything, so it's not worth fighting them anyways.

indent 'Get your head in the game, Moth! What will Sable think if he sees you running about doing nothing?'

indentSable's opinion isn't the only one he's worried about, though. Attacking another cat will solidify his role as a villain in the eyes of Hawthorne's loyalists. Is he really ready to sever that bond? It's not as if he was particularly close to anyone - but still, the idea of enduring his peer's venomous gazes makes his stomach turn. He doesn't want to be a 'curse' again.

indent 'I hope I'm making the right choice here...'

 
COPPER OF THE COLONY

Copper's eyes widened in panic as he came upon the chaos that had erupted before him. The noise, the fighting, it was overwhelming. He had been on a late-night hunt, focused on bringing back some much-needed food for the colony, but the squirrel he had caught now lay forgotten, slipping from his grip and hitting the ground with a dull thud. His stomach twisted, but it was far from hunger now.

Where was Pandora? His heart pounded in his chest as his thoughts raced. His brother, Flint, had he been caught in this madness? His sister, Cinder, was she safe? The very ground beneath him seemed to tremble as his mind spun with fear.

Without thinking, his body moved. His paws thundered against the earth as he sprinted forward, his senses overwhelmed with the chaos around him. He couldn't make sense of it all, couldn't piece together what had started this fight, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was finding his family.

"Pandora!" he called out, his voice hoarse with desperation. "Flint! Cinder!"

He pushed himself harder, forcing through the tumult of fur and claws, his eyes darting between the shadows, trying to catch any glimpse of his brother, sister, or the one he cherished most. The battle raged on, but Copper didn't care about the chaos around him. He had to find them, no matter the cost. Perhaps being so focused on that goal caused him to be met with a body, being tackled to the ground with a loud 'oof'.

Who...?!



you walk along the edge of danger ——・゚✦
・゚✦ —— AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU





ooc: copper is open to being fought with! no death pls but def can skirmish >)
 
FLINT OF THE COLONY

Yellow eyes watched the battle unfold before him, slowly narrowing them as he moved a bit closer to where Needle stood, fur at his back bristling up in confusion and caution. He was ready to defend if it were to be needed... But... This... This was chaos, entirely. The noises around them, the confusion in some... The clash of fur and claws.. It was too much. He couldn't get a grip on it... Had the tension rose that much that friend now became foe?

How tight had their resolve been to begin with if that were the case...

"Stay close... " he murmured, his voice was soft but steady as he gently brushed a tail against Needle's. A small effort to ground the both of them in the chaos that was happening... His heart pounded, not out of fear, no... This wasn't his fight. He wasn't a fighter, not like his brother often was... Copper was the fierce one who thrived in the heat of the battle. He was the collected one, the one who shared advice.

His role was as a steadfast protector of sorts... And right now, his protection fell to Needle.

" This is madness..." he breathed, a frown to his face, his chest tightening with unease. Part of him wished to lead her away, but he feared that going into the fray would subject them to the claws and teeth... So he would stand here, useless for now... But unshakable in his resolve to shield Needle from whatever would come their way.




and back when we were kids, we swore we knew the future ——・゚✦
・゚✦ —— and our words would take us halfway around the world





ooc: flint is staying close to needle and has a preplanned battle with snake and serp! [ if im correct! ]
 
Wraith-like and quiet, Phantom becomes one with the shadows despite Sable's call to attack. He does not lunge for the opponents yet, surveying and studying the wildcats as they fight each other fiercly. His tail lashes behind him, its tip twitching irritably. The tom flexes his claws, icy-gaze sweeping through the crowd until they land on the hulking form of Gentle. His lack of action is all he needs as motivation; despite their fast difference in size, Phantom would make up for it with agility.

His lips curl into a snarl as he skulks forward, snake-like movements propelling him through the cats until he's close enough to leap at Gentle's back, his claws outstretched and aiming to sink them into the other tom's shoulders. He does not speak, for there is nothing more to be said.
° . . °
  • ooc: attacking @GENTLE
  • 75446796_46h4i3z56BeH8Xy.png
    PHANTOM — HE/HIM ・ 25 MOONS ・ COLONY CAT ・ PENNED BY NOCTHYMIA!
    A stygian pelted tom with ghost-like offwhite markings and striking blue eyes. Phantom is a smart and agile tom who uses his surroundings to his advantage. Can be a dirty figther, may kill, may flee.
 

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AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN


Courage and honor were great– until you met a beast that simply didn't care. A monster running along the thunderpath didn't care how good or innocent a cat was when it ran them down. A hawk did not swerve at the last minute because their prey was too weak to put up a 'fair fight'. It was live or die. Kill or be killed. An arbitrary, unfair world where death did not discriminate.

And neither did Wolf.

It was instinct to go after the weak. To drop the easiest target. It was the rule of the hunt with most predators, and it was no different in this scenario. Wolf wasn't looking for honor in his victories. He wasn't looking to show off his strength or assert his dominance as the top cat. No, Sable and the other glory-chasers could do that. What he wanted was a reduction in numbers; a guarantee that after this fight, there were fewer mouths to feed regardless of which side won.

And so any cat who met him on the field would be met with the same ferocity and intent.

He kept close to Sable as they made their move though, knowing the toms survival would be a benefit. As Dunny leapt to pin Juniper down to keep her from interfering with the two warring rivals, Wolfs mismatched eyes came to land on a different cat charging toward the quarrel. The golden, three legged tom was familiar only by sight, not someone Wolf had ever really shared words with. But it wouldn't have mattered either way.

He lunged, throwing his full weight onto their shoulders in an attempt to drive them down under buckling limbs before they had a chance to reach Sable, a gazelle beneath the weight of a lion.

If he was successful in his initial takedown, his next move would come almost immediately afterwards, his target almost painfully obvious- the throat along the side of Straws missing forelimb, knowing they wouldn't have the protection of claws on that side.

So he aimed to bury his fangs into their scruff and wrench their head back, wickedly curved claws unsheathing as they jumped toward the exposed throat to try and dig in and leave deep, bloody chasms in their wake, a spray of red his reward if he succeeded.

@Straw

loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars
 
nyx didn't believe in taking leadership by force, it was simple as that. fray was their benevolent leader for many seasons, and it made sense for hawthorne to take his father's place.

despite that, nyx isn't one for battle; she's skinny, lethargic, and clumsy. her heart pounds in her ears as cats around her begin to battle, the occasional body shouldering past. they will win this, right? it's hard to make out which side is fighting for what... everyone is crazed, and hungry. freezing air mists out of spitting jaws, blood splatters on the hardened ground. her mind barley registers rat lunging at her until the loud clack of snapping jaws right in front of her face. her eyes widen, and an arm rears back to try and rake claws down her temple.

// engaging with @Rat. ! hi
ᯓᡣ𐭩

 

He knew it was going to come to a head- it was just a matter of when. Sky blues shifted across camp as Hawthorne started to rouse colony-mates, and he too went with them. An ambush, in the night, of the leader's son? Well, really the leader, but what kind of jack-knifed, backward assed- his ears shifted and turned as Sable made himself known, as so much happened in such little time. Attacking. A battle? Now, of all times, when we're starving? His ears pressed backwards, shrinking back against the treeline for a heartbeat of hesitation before he was off to find the soul he had been spending the most time with lately.

Ghost was an easy figure to pick out, if only for seconds before he became swallowed by the treeline's shadow. "Ghost!" He called, sliding to a stop behind him. Broad shoulders- always facing the other direction. It pissed him off, just a bit, that the other was always facing away from him. (Was is some kind of compulsion, that was calling him to Ghost? Was it that he always seemed to be leaving that pissed Thunder off the most?)

"You can' be leavin'. Are you gonna fight?" Thunder was more direct and to the point then he had been in the week or so that Ghost had stayed for, sides heaving and his eyes wide. The infamous grin was gone now- only sharp frowns.

  • "speech"
    // planned interaction with @- Ghost -, plz do not attack!
  • THUNDER he/him, future thunderclanner, nineteen moons.
    a sh/lh chocolate tabby with low white and stunning baby blue eyes. stands of average height with a 'mohawk' and spiky-shaped mane.
    mentored by who / mentoring no one
    whichever relations / want listed
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.