TW: Sensitive Content Open Camp don't prove i'm right — injured clanmate

[MIREPURR]

trigger warning Mentions of major injury.

Nausea has fully gripped Mirepurr by the time they see the camp entrance. Their jaw is numb now with the effort of dragging Coalstrike, occassionally meeting Bluegale's gaze desperately over that dark pelt. They are almost pleading with the way their blue eyes round in panic—though what exactly they are pleading for is beyond them. Perhaps for Coalstrike's health. Though... they can almost envision Cicadabuzz's blank stare and cold verdict. Can a broken body of this extent be healed? Precious time had been wasted, no doubt, and the night guard must be exhausted already, fighting for his life. To drag him through the pocosin like this- it's unseemly.

Finally, finally, the pair makes it into the heart of camp with Coalstrike. Mirepurr takes a moment to catch their breath, and to blink away the blurriness of their own vision. Had Fleafire succeeded in alerting everybody in time? She must have.

Still... they feel the pressure of an explanation sitting heavily on their tongue. Curious and panicked stares have already been thrown their and Bluegale's way.

"Monster..."

they gasp.

"Coalstrike is- gravely hurt. Please."

A pause. Please take him from me. The spot between Mirepurr's eyebrows twitch as they regard the once-great tom with something akin to... pity. They hope that he doesn't see it, though he lacks the strength to wipe it off their face anyway.

@bluegale and Mirepurr is bringing @Coalstrike back to camp, with @FLEAFIRE having arrived before them to alert everyone.

 

[Coalstrike Coalstrike]

Coalstrike's body sagged against the cold, uneven ground, every breath a rasping struggle that left his chest heaving and blood flecking the earth beneath him. He had made it to camp, yes, but it was barely enough. His muscles screamed with pain, and the broken weight of his frame refused to rise. Even so, a spark of satisfaction lingered. Here, at least, he could survive. Away from the monsters and two legs. Away from the border. Away from the weak excuses of prey and predator who dared cross him.

His amber eyes, still sharp despite the blood and pain, flicked toward Mirepurr, anger flickering behind. Oh yes, he had seen it. Seen their look of pity. Coalstrike could not muster the energy to spit or snarl, his body refused, but the hate, the sheer, suffocating hatred, still burned behind his eyes. He needed rest. Only rest… but his mind raced, feeding on fury and failure. His eyes shifted across the clearing, not to the warriors, not to the patrols, but to the kits he had sired. Wolfpack's blood ran in their veins too, yes... But they were as much his as Wolfpack's.

Coalstrike's lips parted, a wheeze escaping, a rasp of air and blood. " Thunder… " he croaked, voice brittle, yet venomous, each syllable burning like acid. If that weakling of a kittypet hadn't fought so much... It should have been her laying dying on the ground, not him. He wasn't dying. He wasn't. Pain wracked his body, but his mind refused to relent. The ThunderClan molly had interfered with what was his, with what he had earned. She was a stain, a fragile, useless, offspring-bearing shadow that he despised simply for existing. Every beat of his heart swore vengeance. Every inhale burned with hatred.

And as he let his body sag further into the mud, he vowed, with every rasping breath, that the world would remember this night. Dewshine would pay. Copperstorm would pay. And if he survived this, every fragile thing in the path of his wrath would feel the full, unyielding weight of Coalstrike's fury.

___________________ I DON'T FORGIVE, I DON'T FORGET ☆ A wound's a warning, a debt is a debt. ___________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• COALSTRIKE he/him, shadowclanner, sixty-six moons.
  ☆ a lh black cat dangerous amber eyes. has a mane around his head, is huge [ grandiose ]
  ☆ mentoring vanillapaw
  ☆ loyal to sable, despises thunderclan
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by lion ↛ lionharted on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[bluegale bluegale]

REPAY ME IN KIND

Bluegale feels as if the trip back to ShadowClan's camp takes an eternity. Every step takes a horrible amount of effort, and it isn't lost on him the terror and pleading looks that he keeps exchanging with Mirepurr. Except... he isn't sure why it is he feels so afraid. It hadn't been any of their faults that they had found Coalstrike in such horrible condition. Still, Sablestar is sure to be unhappy, and if Coalstrike had the strength to bat at any of them... He shudders at the thought. He can practically feel the hot rage radiating off the soot-coated night guard's fur. He bitterly counts them as being lucky. Lucky somehow despite the future of having to face both Sablestar and Cicadabuzz in the wake of Coalstrike's injuries.

Bluegale's heart beats in his ears, equal parts due to the exertion of bringing Coalstrike's body back to camp and anticipation of what is to come. He rasps, making Bluegale's fur prickle, but he finds a new horrible realization washing over him. "He's going to die," Bluegale comments in a dry croak, the blue crown of his head butting close to Mirepurr's own chocolate one, his ears hooded close to their face. It isn't a comment that is meant to be overheard, but the warrior finds that he is in even less control over his words and volume than usual. Blue eyes dart toward the curious stares of his clanmates, and he reiterates what he hopes has already been shared: "We found him in this condition."

He dips his head as if Coalstrike has already died, though his spirit remains in the heart of ShadowClan's camp. Bluegale does not offer the same pitying look that his companion gives. He can only hope that Cicadabuzz will arrive with the same verdict soon enough.

— ⋆˙⟡

⊹ bluegale is a shadowclan warrior who is gregarious and loud.
⊹ 43 moons old, ages on the first day of each month.
⊹ currently has no apprentice, formerly mentored websight.
⊹ in battle, physically difficult and psychologically easy
⊹ his parents are swan x meister and he is siblings to halfshade and hollowmist.
⊹ penned by carat, see his tags here.

 

[CICADABUZZ]

Cicadabuzz arrives not with haste but with the gravity of inevitability, their steps soft yet deliberate, the scent of herbs clinging faintly to their fur. The commotion in camp hums around them like a fever—the shuffling of paws, the hushed tones, the tremor of fear that ripples through the gathered cats. They move through it all as if through mist, parting it by presence alone, gaze unwavering as it falls upon the broken form of Coalstrike. The tom's breathing is shallow, strained, blood seeping sluggishly into the mud beneath him. Even without touching him, Cicadabuzz knows. The body tells its own truth—bones splintered in places that no salve can reach, a chest that rises and falls like a dying ember. His eyes, though bright with fury, are already dulling at the edges—a storm collapsing inward.

Cicadabuzz moves beside him, head tilting slightly as they observe the damage in silence. They have seen many broken cats, but this one bears the unmistakable mark of death's hand. Around them, the air seems to still, waiting. Mirepurr's breath hitches; Bluegale stands stiff and pale. When Cicadabuzz finally speaks, their voice is low, measured, and unflinching. "He will not rise again," they say, not unkindly, but without room for denial. "His body has reached its limit. To treat these wounds would be to prolong his pain, not his life." The words hang heavy, sinking into the clearing like rain into cold earth. Cicadabuzz turns their gaze toward the two warriors who carried him, eyes unreadable yet not cruel. "You have done what duty demanded. You brought him home."

Coalstrike's gaze flickers toward them, anger still alive beneath the haze of agony. Cicadabuzz meets it steadily. "There is no shame in rest," they tell him. "Your body has fought enough battles for one lifetime. Let go before suffering rots what remains of you." They do not coax nor comfort; they simply wait, patient as stone, until acceptance or exhaustion forces his decision. Cicadabuzz does not look away. They have long learned that mercy is not always gentle—it is often the cleanest form of truth. They glance to the warriors, saying plainly, "Deathberries will end his suffering quickly. Poppy seeds will ensure he does not suffer from the poison. Fetch them from my den, if you will."

 

[Grayflight]

┍

Grayflight had been roused by the alert young Fleafire'd raised, that something had happened to one of Sablestar's Night Guards. Like others in his Clan, he'd moved to watch as Coalstrike was carried back to camp, the once great cat's body now mangled and limp.

Grayflight was no medicine cat, but he'd seen enough life that even he knew: there was no hope for the Night Guard, not without a miracle. And Cicadabuzz was not one to rely on wishing or miracles. Their practical comment sent a shiver down his spine, but he knew if he were in Coalstrike's place, he'd want the same.

Life had given the older cats of ShadowClan enough suffering. He was grateful for Cicadabuzz's discerning mind, to determine how much suffering was enough. He dipped his head as they brought him further in - while he'd never been particular fond of or close with the tom, his death would deserve due respect. He would be named amongst their Clan's history.

‎┙

OOC

xx

BIO

ShadowClan Thief
59 moons || he/him
SPEECH || THOUGHTS

 

[SABLESTAR]

SABLESTAR
he/him
sixty-two moons
shadowclan leader

PENNED BY gonkpilled

Of all on his council- no- of all the cat's within ShadowClan, this is the last whom Sablestar expected to see in such a state of... misery. Pain, withering. The tuxedo gelt the old scar across his belly dully ache as he looked at Coalstrike's mangled body with a frown. His most loyal guard, his most trusted pawn, what were they to do with him? Watch as he faded in each choking gasp? He knew better than the rest Cicadabuzz would not even entertain the thought of being wasteful on a lost cause-

Deathberries. His frown strengthened into a firm scowl. It still wasn't anything peaceful- something poppy seeds may provide. He would suffer the pain of his injuries alongside the slow sear of poison. Even Wolfpack's vicious rip through his flesh had been more merciful.

Sablestar ripped his gaze away from Coalstrike, selfishly, focusing on Bluegale instead. "What of ThunderClan? Is that who did this?" His tail lashed against the cold ground. Cicadabuzz had told him of their own attacker, had she struck again? Had her actions encouraged other's to do the same? Were they so stupid as to risk another war? He had far more warriors then when they last clashed against his claws, their leader far weaker spined than her predecessor, even.

​

OOC:

 

[Silverkit Silverkit]

——————————— From here you like like ants in a row.✦

A ruckus outside the nursery made the kittens' ears perk up, and the smell of something weird in the air made them tilt their head in confusion. They didn't ask Mama, nor wait for any siblings, instead venturing out by their own volition as mismatched eyes fell on something they couldn't quite comprehend.

"Papa?" Silverkit called out, confused. Coalstrike, an ever-looming presence in their life, bold and sharp and a strong guiding paw. But now? He was crumpled in the camp grounds, something wasn't right, and Silverkit had no idea how to handle that.

Almost tentatively, the kitten approached the giant tom, words scattered in the air that they didn't understand. That foul scent was stronger the closer they grew to Coalstrike; it was only as they were tails-lengths away that Silverkit understood. "Why is Papa bleeding?" Their face muddled with confusion, padding closer and pressing a nose to his face like he had done to them before to rowse them to their paws. "You can't be hurt." There was an edge of almost defiance, disbelief; this was one of their papa's, the strongest cats they knew; he couldn't be hurt? Who had hurt him...

The kitten flickered an ear, looking around before craning their neck up to the only cat they thought to. "Dad, you gotta help him." It wasn't pleading, but even still, Silverkit looked to Wolfpack with a glint in their eye. Strong cats don't die so easily; that's what they learned. Coalstrike was one of the strongest cats they knew. Who had done this?

—— It doesn't a killer to murder,

It only takes the reason for the kill. ——

• 
  Silverkit
  ✦—Shadowclan kitten
  ✦—They/Them
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A stocky blue rosette tabby with Finnish roan spotting and mismatched eyes.
  #67739A

 

[Jadethorn]

There's only two types of people in the world

The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe

​

The night guard hadn't believed the call of her former apprentice, even with the look of disbelief and shock in those fiery eyes. It was something that had seemed impossible. Coalstrike, the ever looming shadow of their higher ranks, struck by a monster on the thunderpath. The same tarmac that he patrolled nearly every day, with no problems but annoyances from their neighbors on the other side. It was why Jadethorn hadn't moved from her nest in the nursery. Why, when the other clanmates gathered to wait for the patrol's return, she was rousing her ‐ no, their - children from the nap they were taking against her side. A claw tapped against the opening of the nursery, patience wearing thin before the rustling of brambles signalled the return.

It was then that she finally moved. Practically the entire clan had come out to see their injured night guard's return, and the soft gasps and silent gawkings brought a sneer to her maw. They were practically on top of him, the rosette unable to see before she pushed past the spectators with venom dripping from her tongue. "For fucks' sake, give the brute some space. You're all going to suffocate him with this fucking cro-." The word fell into nothingness, broken in half like the body that her toxic gaze landed upon.

Pupils blown wide, paw frozen in mid step, the mother was suddenly shunted back to a time when there were no clans. No colony. Just the constant presence of blood. Littermates, a mother taken to soon, and a father, whose anger knew no bounds, after losing something that now haunted his every step. The sensation shifted to bared teeth, the prick of claws in her fur, and then... the incoming rumbling. A flash of light, a screech that shook her very bones, and a shape... broken and bloodied, as it shuttered and layered over what she was seeing now.

Words were being tossed around her, mutterings from clanmates, explanations from the patrol. Yet none of it was heard. None of it made it to her flooded synapses, until the unmistakable canter of the medicine cat drilled it's way through. "Deathberries will end his suffering quickly." Like a canine who had heard the rustling of prey, slitted pupils snapped to the bug. Teeth bared, head low, Jadethorn rounded on the black pupiled feline, placing herself between them and their would-be 'patient'. "The only plants you are putting near him are ones that can fix his injuries. You already let my apprentice rot after her coyote attack, I will not fucking allow you to leave another clanmate for dead over your precious fucking leaves!!"

Tail lashing with a growl set deep in her chest, the night guard pushed herself into Cicadabuzz's space, claws digging into the ground. "What are you fucking waiting for? Cobwebs, moss, whatever fucking else you'll need. Go get it before I take you by your fucking ear and drag yo-" Her words are broken a second time, not by the bug itself, but the soft kitten fur of one of her sons brushing past her. "Why is Papa bleeding?" The voice, soft and naive. To small to have this happen to them. Her gaze wavered, looking to her kit before flickering back to the unmoving medicine cat. "You better get something to fix this..."

With a huff of breath and a slice of her tail, Jadethorn turned back to the sight of Silverkit pressing against the night guard's crown, dwarfed by even his head. The rosette queen moved towards them, paws trembling ever so slightly as she came closer to the wreckage. "Your Papa was trampled by a monster, Silverkit... Most likely dragged under it's paws by a coward..." Coalstrike wouldn't have gotten in the way of a monster on his own accord, she knew that. He was to careful, to strong. Silently, her head fell to touch against the night guard's crown. "Charcoal..." A name nearly forgotten, shed when they had become a formal group. "Da fuck happened to helping us raise our stones... Me, you, Wolf... We're supposed to refine them into perfect gems together..."

Her tail loosely wrapped itself around Silverkit, gaze glancing towards the nursery where his littermates were coming upon the scene. There was an ache in her chest she had never felt before. Her and Coal. Her and Wolf. They weren't mates. Far from it. But they had a bloodline to protect together. A bloodline that was suddenly shattering all to soon. She could see it in their eyes. In the way they moved in and crowded around their fading father. Jadethorn may not have had deep feelings for the night guard, like how Sablestar felt about his lover across the tarmac, but her perfect stones now had to suffer through the feeling of loss. A scratch in their facates and one that she would not tolerate, as long as the cat who had done this lived....
​

OOC ✧❦✧ Basic Info

• ooc
  —— tagging the rest of the babies! @Ghostkit @COUGARKIT @Obsidiankit @Amberkit @silentkit
  
• 
  string of lyrics / lengty or short quote goes

  here

  ​
  ​
• Jadethorn she/her
  ❖ An Average Sized Black Rosette Tabby with Low White and Green Eyes
  ❖ Night Guard of Shadowclan
  ❖ 37 moons; ages on the 8th of every month
  ❖ speech thought attack
  ❖ peaceful + healing powerplay permitted
  
  penned by Taru​

​

 

[Ghostkit]

x

x

x

GHOSTKIT

SHADOWCLAN

KIT

SHE/THEY

02 MOONS

DINGO

Ghostkit had watched from the entrance to the nursery as her mother made her way through the gathered crowd of cats. They had watched too when Silverkit had gotten up and toddled over as well, red eyes burning with curiosity as the kitten wondered what all the fuss was about? She would waddle over when she heard her littermate call out to Papa, slipping between the legs of cats much bigger than she was so she could see what was going on better.

The large form that was Coalstrike was what every cat was crowded around. Ghostkit blinked, staring at Silverkit as they asked their other father to help Coalstrike. It had never occurred to her before now that either of their fathers were cats that could ever need help, they were so big and strong! How could anything in the world ever harm them of all cats? How frightening something capable of hurting them must be... They looked up to Cicadabuzz, the medicine cat. Unsure why their mother had been so angry at bug just moments before. They were going to help Papa weren't they? They were the only cat who could help him weren't they?

The young cats ears twitched hearing their mother explain to Silverkit that Coalstrike had been trampled by a monster and her whiskers would quiver slightly at this news "Will the same happen to us? Will the monster trample us too?" After all if this monster thing was big enough to hurt one of their papa's then surely it wasn't scared of anything and would be back to hurt more of them. She would press her tiny frame into Jadethorn's side as she looked perplexed at the form of the fallen Night Guard. There were no tears yet as it was still foreign to her that death was something any of her parents were capable of succumbing to. Coalstrike was just hurt for now but he would get better, because he had to! He had to get better. Nothing kept their family down forever.

Ghostkit would blink up at the ShadowClan leader as he asked if ThunderClan was responsible, her mismatched pelt blending into her mother's as she stayed close to her side. "Can you help him Sablestar?" A clan leader could do anything! Or so she thought, so surely the black and white tom could do something to help make Coalstrike all better again?

You got a whole lotta' nerve and a whole lotta' spite.

A solid blue x black smoke rosette ghost tabby chimera with low white and finnish roan spotting. Has striking blood red eyes with golden rings around the pupils

Littermate to OBSIDIANKIT, AMBERKIT, SILENTKIT, SILVERKIT and COUGARKIT
Daughter of JADETHORN, WOLFPACK and COALSTRIKE
Mentored by No one yet...
"speech" // "thoughts" // #eb5050

 

[FLEAFIRE]

-

Word spread through camp like wildfire. The handful she told passed the news around like sparks jumping to dry grass. Fleafire had meant to run back to help carry Coalstrike, but they reached camp before she could. She fell in at Jadethorn's flank, a heavy scowl set into her face. Her eyes fell to the bloodied, withering form of Coalstrike.

He looked worse than before, but there was still bite in his eyes, still a snarl curling his lips. A strong tom like him didn't need fussing or soft words. He would be fine.

She didn't doubt it for a heartbeat, even as theirs haunts the very air. Fleafire caught the mutters of her clanmates, singing them with smoldering glares. Then bug finally skittered out from their dark hole. The blank look on their face and monotone way of speaking was almost refreshing, but never failed to make her shiver.

The chatter around her buzzed like a collection of insects fluttering under a porchlight. Would they all just shut the hell up? The muscles in her jaw flex and tighten as she grinds her teeth, pinching her tongue to keep her mouth in check. She forces herself to focus on Cicadabuzz's mouth instead.

Their words roll over her in waves. Heat builds under her pelt, the pot of her patience ready to boil over or simmer itself out. Her outrage mirrored Jadethorn's as she quickly darts through them, to press herself beneath the jaw of the injured nightguard. A snarl ripples across her muzzle, a warning flash of light glinting over sharp teeth, claws flying out to complete the set.

What. The. Fuck.

She'd never liked bug, and the odds of that chasm ever folding inward to create a bridge have long since crumbled. But even if she couldn't stand the cockroach, she'd at least expected them to do their damn job. They turned their nose up at her wounds before, but Coalstrike was different. He was important. Surely they'd help him. That's what she had told herself.

Her ears rang. There's a swelling of tension threatening to build into a migraine, pounding behind her eyes. No way they were serious. No way this was happening.

"What the fuck is wrong with you all?!" She spat viciously. Why were they so hell bent on seeing him off? If they didn't give a shit about him then didn't they at least care about their clan? He was their Night Guard for fucks sake! Had he not been loyal? Did he not deserve their respect or at minimum some fucking cobwebs?! They just stole some herbs from RiverClan not long ago, didn't they? Was that not enough?

She jerks her head around to look at the medicine-cat. "You're not even gonna try to help him? He's worked his ass off for us, and that's all you've got to say?" The words tear out of her throat, spit flinging with every other word. Fleafire's chest heaves, her heart rattling against her ribs, heartbeat rising into her ears.

Outrage streaks every corner of her face, wild eyes flicking between faces before settling on Sablestar. "Sablestar?" She looks expectantly at the tuxedo, confusion and fury clashing before sifting into a pleading look.

Do something. Do something!

Froststorm's always said that her loyalty and hard work would be rewarded, but he couldn't have meant this. The looks on their faces were making her sick. Was this Coalstrike's reward? What did they want from him? What... What could she give? "If it's just about the herbs, i-if we're low or..." She gulps, the saliva in her mouth turned to syrup. "Then I-I'll go look for some or just tell bug to add it to what I owe! Whatever needs to be done. I'll take care of it." Amber eyes dart back to Coalstrike. He wasn't just some expendable thing. He was worth the price.

And I'll burn the wick at both ends

FLEAFIRE

14 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

I always knew life wasn't fair.