Open Backwritten Camp WindClan Hung pictures of patron saints up on my wall || Returning home and repercussions

This thread occurred at a date previous to its posting date.
This thread takes place inside the clan's camp.

Merrystalk

And you'll say get up, get out of this town.
WindClan
53
10
Freshkill
260
Nickname
Merry
Pronouns
He/Him
Profile
TAGS
Rank
Moor-runner
Played by
Pheo
{$title} Follows up directly after the arguement at the barn, tensions are still high as everyone returns to camp and questions still hang in the air.
—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦


Merrystalk walked ahead of the rest of the cats, far ahead. He could feel the eyes of everyone piercing his pelt; he knew they weren't all upset. Harefoot stuck up for him, something he would always be grateful for, but he saw something else in the eyes of the others. Confusion, upset, disappointment? Meadow's words rang in his ears, Maremane's snide remarks he tried to brush off. Goldenroar was only there to diffuse the situation, the look he gave was... Calculated almost. He knew his brother wanted to stop a fight from happening, but his mind only raced at the idea the other wouldn't believe him. That this wasn't his fault, none of it was.

It clung to his form just as the still rumbling upset in the pit of his chest. Merry wasn't proud of what he said, no, no, not at all. That kind of cat, the angry kind he thought he had grown out of, clawed out from his chest, and there was more rage to Sassafras for causing that. Everything had been okay, for the first time in a long time, everything had settled. For all the loss the clan had experienced, they had all started to pick themselves up. And yet. Merry tracked ahead of the other cats, not wanting to see their eyes or hear what they said. Sassafras had done what he was best at, causing problems for everyone else. The tom wanted nothing more than to head into the moors, find somewhere secluded just so he could rant and rave and let off steam alone, but he knew his clanmates wouldn't let him. Instead, he felt as if he had committed some terrible action for letting Sass know what was coming to him for grating on his nerves.

He could understand the confusion from his friends; they had never seen him upset like that, and oh, Starclan, he had tried so hard to keep it that way. But that was out of his paws now. Merry swallowed his pride and tried to steady his demeanour; he couldn't lie with a smile on his face, but refused to enter his home with a scowl. And yet, the feeling of eyes, now before him as he stepped to camp, none of them knew what had happened, and yet the feeling of judgement scoured his throat. He hesitated, for just a moment, a loss for words. But with a shaky breath, he spoke. "Ain't nothin' we coulda recovered from the barn, not yet, it'd take days to dig up... Anythin' at this rate..."

Merry was all too aware how dreary his voice sounded, to admit his throat stung from raising it at Sassafras, he had barely recovered from the ache that came from the smoke of the fire. It was more than just old wounds the other had irritated. He refused to let his tail lash, not where cats could see. His pride was wounded as it stood, his dearest friends and companions witnessing his outburst was insult enough, the tom wanted nothing more than to retire to his nest for the meanwhile, if he couldn't go hunting to burn some steam.

  • Merrystalk
    ✦—Windclan moor-runner | 26 Moons
    ✦—He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
    #9D6E46
 
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Harefoot follows him at a distance, as Merrystalk's anger hangs around the tortoise shell's body like a fog through which Harefoot cannot pass. He seems almost ashamed. Harefoot cannot understand it, but he supposes emotion has never been something he was terribly good at. He's still only half sure they are what he thinks they are. But whether or not they are makes no difference, not now. He catches up to Merry at the mouth of the camp, tail brushing against the other's side.

"It would be dang'rous, too," Harefoot says. "We are all worn thin enough as is… it shall be easier once we have regained our strength, and the rain hath chance to wash away the worst of the ash."

HAREFOOT. 24 moons
peaceful powerplay allowed
ooc -


 

✪ Align my Heart, my Body, my Mind​

97855943_AHY.png
indent Dustystar keeps watch atop a windswept gnoll as she waits for the patrol to return. She had half a mind to head towards the barn, and meet them halfway, but decided better of it. She didn't want to risk missing them if they took a different route home.

indent"You're back. How did it go?" Dustystar asks, but she doesn't need to hear a response to know the answer. The cats are tense, wearing sour faces as they walk back towards camp. It's too be expected, at least. She can tell by their paws, darkened with ash and soot, that they had gone to the barn. Few cats would be in high spirits after a trip like that. Still, though, Dustystar senses that it's more than just grief weighing on them. She's not the best at reading cats, but shes not stupid, either. Something must have happened.

indent"Where's Sassafraschill? He was with you when you left, right?"

Dustystar - 26 moons - Windclan Leader


 
Her legs had carried her home quickly, unburdened by any others on her solo trek. Maremane had settled at the edge of their flattened camp, not bothering to relay any of the information about the kitlike tussle that had happened during their recovery patrol. She betrayed the fact something had happened when she saw the first cats she recognized returning – shooting Merrystalk a glare that had an emotion she couldn't pinpoint herself swirling in its depths.

Yet, she couldn't find it in her to fully side with Sassafras. Both toms had shown shocking amounts of pettyness during their argument, and she found herself grossed out by the pair equally. Which was surprising, given the fact she would've been grosser and pettier had she been in either of their shoes.

"We found nothing," she murmured, sharpening her ash-stained claws on the grass. "It will take a long time to pick through the ruins." Dustystar's second question fell deafly on her ears, letting the wind whisk it to one of the others. The barn was not given even the graces of a skeleton; its wooden bones had been melted away, the beams that had fallen too heavy, enough to trap the ghosts beneath it.

It felt like they had brought back some of them.
 
—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦


As much as his rage seemed to drive the rest of the cats away from him, Merrystalk softened the slightest bit to Harefoot at his side. He took a breath, for his sake. And yet, for all his attempts to keep his cool, he wasn't ignorant of the downright foul glare Maremane shot him. His tail swatted behind him, but he turned away from the molly, not giving her any more of his time unless he ended up lashing out at her, too.

Instead, he turned to Dustystar, trying to speak carefully to what she asked. "Aye, nothin' can be recovered yet. It'd take as many paws as we have to even try 'n find anythin'." The knowledge that their loved ones were still buried in the rubble was sickening to Merry, but it was true they had no chance yet to even try and save them- Or what remained. "We're still recoverin' ourselves, with these strange cats we keep seein' on the boarders we can't risk any more injuries..." It really wasn't his place to say or decide, but then again, Dusty was a sensible cat, unlike most in the clan, so it felt nowadays, she would likely agree it would do nothing but strain them thinner than they could afford.

Though Merry's fur bristled at the mention of Sassafras. He broke his gaze with Dusty for a moment, steadying himself not to say something stupid. "Aye." His voice level, uncharacteristically so. "He's still at the barn with Goldenroar, doin' one last sweep've the area." Merry omitted the argument; it wasn't a lie that Goldy had forced Sass to hang back at the barn, that was all Dusty needed to know in that moment. He hoped his clanmates would keep their mouths shut for the time being, at least while it was still so raw. Irritating the wound any more would cause more issues than it'd solve, tattling to their leader.

  • Merrystalk
    ✦—Windclan moor-runner | 26 Moons
    ✦—He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
    #9D6E46
 

✪ Align my Heart, my Body, my Mind​

97855943_AHY.png
indentDustystar raises her eyebrow, incredulous. Something here was going unsaid, that was clear enough. Whatever had happened, nobody wanted to speak up. Merrystalk especially seemed nervous, his eyes flitting away from her face. Dustystar can feel her tail twitching. If something bad had happened, they really ought to tell their leader about it.

indent "Well then, It's a shame you didn't find anything." Dustystar chooses to feign ignorance, for now. There will be time to needle them for answers later. "I do agree with you, Merrystalk. We shouldn't trust that those other clans won't swoop in to take us down while we're weak." She's loathe to admit it, but there's probably very little of worth within the rubble. Any resources, or remains of loved ones, had likely been turned to ash by the powerful inferno. There would be time to reminisce on the past, but for now they needed to remain vigilant.

indent Casually, Dustystar sits and begins to groom her paws. "Well, I S'pose I'll wait here for the others will come back. Though, I'm sure Goldenroar will just tell me the same story you did." She looks up from her paw and gives the group a pointed look. This is their last chance to fess up. If they keep being cagey, Dustystar will just get the truth from Goldenroar - then give everyone else a harsh scolding for hiding important information from her.


Dustystar - 26 moons - Windclan Leader


 
—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦


Merry nodded with what Dusty had to say, glad his thoughts didn't come off as stepping a line. The same couldn't be said for the leader, as she very pointedly made his business hers too. His fur bristled, but with the mention of his brother. For a moment, shame burned his face, feeling like a kitten with the leader threatening to talk to his brother rather than pulling himself aside to talk.

He supposed, in that moment, if she wanted to make it her business, then he would be the first to let her or any overlookers know what happened. "There was a..." He clicked his tongue. pushing any snarky additions towards Sassafras or any hint of frustration in his voice. The last thing he needed was Dusty to snap at him too. "Disagreement" He spoke, poiniently. Trying to recall an argument that felt like a blur now in his mind. "Sassafras had some... Thoughts I sure didn't agree with 'nd we got heated. I ain't proud 'f it but folks brought us to our senses."

He motioned mostly to Harefoot, Goldy wasn't there and - to admit - most everyone else who was there was nothing more than a bystander. Though his gaze fell back to Dusty, guilt began to writhe in his chest, seeing Meadow's expression, still clearly just as upset. He would continue where pressed, but he really just wanted a moment to breathe, but it felt inevitable that this might become more of an interrogation than anything with the admission of an argument having broken out.

  • Merrystalk
    ✦—Windclan moor-runner | 26 Moons
    ✦—He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
    #9D6E46