TW: Sensitive Content Open Camp TAIL TUCKED + return from fox attack

[OWLBARK]

tw: mentions of injury​

Owlbark does not like running from a fight. He thought to himself on the limp back to camp that, if absolutely no one else was there, he would have fought the beast to the death. He was satisfied with the assault they had launched against the creature with what limited numbers they had, but there was more they could have done. He knew there had to be more he could have done. Now they had a wounded Boarthorn and two apprentices hopefully not scarred for life. His leg burned with every step, but luckily the blood had stopped. His wound hadn't bled much and he guessed most of the damage was bruising. He was no medicine cat, but he could tell his leg would be tender for a bit.

The deputy sighed before pushing into camp ahead of the patrol. He scanned camp for Loonstar. She should know of the threat still lurking in their woods. It had a taste for cat blood, and he could only assume it wanted more to warm it during the cold of leafbare. "Get Rowanpaw," he growled to no one in particular. They would get the message.

He tried not to meet his other clanmates' stares as he limped past them. They would find out soon enough what happened from another patrol member. Briarpaw and Copperstorm were not as bad off as Boarthorn and Tenebrouspaw, and he was happy to let them do the talking. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to lick his wounds and move on with patrols for the day.

"Loonstar," Owlbark huffed as he approached her. No familiarity from him, just strictly business. He didn't know how else to be around her these days. "We ran into a fox in the territory. It got a few good hits on us before fleeing. It's hungry." Exhaustion finally sank its teeth into his scruff, and the deputy sank to his haunches slowly - much to the chagrin of his back leg. He would let Rowanpaw look at his leg, but he would not let her waste herbs on him. If it was okay to heal without the herbs, then so be it. Boarthorn needed them more.

i turned 'round and there you go *ੈ✩‧₊˚

• ooc:takes place after this thread
  @Boarthorn @Copperstorm @tenebrouspaw @Briarpaw.
  looking for @loonstar and asking for @rowanfeather
  
• 

  ☾ OWLBARK
  ☾ THUNDERCLAN DEPUTY
  ☾ 58 moons, ages every 1st of the month
  ☾ open to peaceful interactions
  ☾ "SPEECH #687A63"
  ☾ penned by muddly

• toyhouse
  playlist
  pinterest

 

[Boarthorn Boarthorn]

In all honesty, Boarthorn could scarcely recall the return trip to camp. Even with the searing pain sunk deep into his throat, forcing him to remain in a state of consciousness, everything felt rather fuzzy, distant almost. The young warrior muttered quiet things to his father in the painfully slow march to camp, laced in delirium and fear.

All Boarthorn knew was the scent of camp, of familiar cats and home; it made the waning adrenaline hit him all the harder. He didn't need to be strong, hold himself up, not knowing now that he was home. Home and safe. His oversized paws stumbled, slick crimson trickling down his legs in sickening rivulets, rivers of blood parting his pelt and sticking his paws.

It hung in the air, the bitter metallic scent, it filled the maws of every cat that watched in horror as he walked step by stumbling step, leaning hard against his father. The eyes that bore into them were just as distant, feeling almost like strangers. He desperately looked for faces, Loonstar, Dewshine, someone he would feel his frenzied heart grasped by panic to settle at the sight of.

As they neared the medicine den, Boarthorn's steps faltered as he struggled to find the strength in his paws. While the fox hadn't succeeded in its killing blow, the thing was damn near bleeding him dry with his death march into camp. He could not die here, not when his family was so close to happiness, when he promised to care for them all. When he had finally proved himself a worthy warrior. And yet, he was a mottled mess of blood and fur and narrowly stifled tears from the pain that struck him with every too harsh movement.

He could not walk any further; instead, more of his body weight leaned into the only cat who could manage to hold him up. Rasping a simple plea, as his gaze finally found Loonstar halfway across camp. "Help."

​

BOARTHORN He/They, Thunderclan Ranger, 12 moons.
A long-haired, blue ticked tabby tom with a prominent underbite, blue eyes and growing vitiligo.
mentored by Loonstar // mentoring no one
littermate to Saltpaw // sibling to Leveretkit, Primrosekit, Nettlekit, Butterflykit, Plumkit, Squirrelkit & Olivekit.
Copperstorm x Dewshine // parent to none // mated to no one
"SPEECH" // "THOUGHTS" // ATTEMPTED ACTION
penned by Pheo ↛ phoenixwashere on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[Daisynose]

DAISYNOSE

——————————​

Daisynose looked up from where she'd been helping reinforce the walls of the nursery against the coming cold. A patrol was returning to camp, it seemed. Nothing out of the ordinary, she thought for a moment, until the scent of blood and something musky hit her nose. She recoiled immediately, fighting the feeling of the world rocking under her paws. She looked away and tried to take a steadying breath. Her clan needed her. She couldn't falter at the first sight of blood. Her sister needed her to be a strong warrior. Forcing herself to look up again, she took in the sight of the returning patrol in all their bloodied, battered glory. Owlbark, Briarpaw, and Copperstorm seemed... okay, but Tenebrouspaw and - her breath caught in her throat. Boarthorn looked to be more blood than fur. The sight was alarmingly familiar. Why was this the second time in a moon that the young warrior had returned to camp, pelt sodden with blood?

She dug her claws into the cold earth, forcing another deep breath. She watched as he staggered into camp, pawsteps faltering as they made their way towards Rowanpaw's den until his strength seemed to leave them entirely. Without allowing herself to think about it, she rushed forward and tried to catch some of his weight - not an easy feat considering how much larger he was. Though she could not hold him up, she did what she could to help soften his fall. "Rowanpaw!" She cried out. Up close, she could see the true extent of Boarthorn's injuries. She was shocked he'd managed to make it back to camp at all. The blood trailing from his fur... She pressed her paws to a wound - whichever seemed worse at the moment, trying to swallow the panic rising in her throat. "You're going to be okay," she whispered desperately. "Just hang in there." He had to be okay. He had done the unthinkable for her, bringing her father home after his death. She hadn't had it in her to approach him since then, too afraid of the memories it would stir up. In both of them. But in this moment, she pushed that aside. "Rowanpaw, please!" She yowled.

dreamers dream until they don't

seal point she-cat with low white and blue eyes
she/her
warrior of Thunderclan
17 moons, ages every 30th
"speech", thoughts, attempted action, "other character's speech"

 

[loonstar loonstar]

juniper

"and this time, she won't be forgiving"​​

an urgency calls to her the moment Boarthorn fixes her under his stare. though she waits for Owlbark's droning explanation, it is hardly able to cut through the din of a frantic heartbeat in her ears. a fox... a fox had ripped and torn at them like they were nothing but toys to gnaw on... her gaze slides towards her deputy for only half a moment, "I hear you." it was a call to action.. maybe not today, but soon, lest they find more victims stumbling home. she doesn't busy herself with concern for the earth-toned tom's injuries, trying not to make obvious in the briskness of her stride towards Boarthorn that her focus had belonged to him immediately. Daisynose has already plastered herself to his side, trying to be of some use to lift up his heavy frame-

she remembered when he was barely big enough to reach her nose...

now he towered, a pelt of comfort and warmth... warm with the flow of his own blood. stinking of it. "You're safe," she offers a low-voiced promise, reaching to try to offer a small brush of her nose against his cheek. StarClan wouldn't spurn her again so soon... right? distantly, a quiet doubt twists in her belly to rely on Rowanpaw for this... Serpentberry should be here. she'd fixed Asterpaw... she could've fixed this too. it's an unfounded fear, one that fears change above all else... but it so easily shows its belly in the face of grief again.

──✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮

•  
• loonstar
  leader of thunderclan
  six lives remain
  

 

[BLISTERINGFURYBLISTERINGFURY's icon]

x

The scent of copper being carried by the chilling breeze is enough to cause Blisteringfury to move away from the fresh-kill pile that he had been checking for any spoiled prey and his emerald eyes snap towards camp entrance where Owlbark limps forward with Tenebrouspaw close. He notes the blood that clings onto the pelts of the tabby, his daughter, and Boarthorn... an ugly feeling surfaces as his heart races like that of a rabbit and for a heartbeat, he fears the possibility of ever losing his children not to the parents that live across the Thunderpath but to death itself. He curses himself for not having been present to save his kit from harm's way, he doesn't see the fiery apprentice that sneers at Shadowclanners but a mewling kit that sobs at him all teary-eyed over a thorn being in her paw, and he wishes to fret over her... but he doesn't, at least, not right away.

To her rescuer, the patchwork tom turns his usually sharp gaze in his direction and it softens in the slightest as he briefly closes the distance between them "Thank you, Owlbark..." He allows his nose to gently brush against his shoulder in a gentle notion only for his voice to grow firm and sharp again as if softness had never sprung from his throat, "You better get that treated by Rowanpaw." Starclan knows that the tabby tom would rather the herbs not be wasted on him and given to Boarthorn instead to which he understands, the behemoth of a warrior had suffered quite the injury, and his blood paints the camp's ground accompanied by its unsettling metallic scent.

He finally parts from Owlbark's side to allow him to speak with Loonstar and he closes the distance between himself and Tenebrouspaw, he wishes to call her foolish and reckless for having thrown herself into the jaws of danger but he knows that the life of a warrior isn't for the faint of heart. For a heartbeat, Blisteringfury thinks about Pine who had been lost to him and his former mates all those moons ago... buried in the ground due to hunger. It makes his heart feel heavier as he allows his pelt to press against his daughter and a part of him feels relieved to be greeted by her warmth, the warrior of smoke and ember blinks at her injury knowing that it looks quite nasty but he has no doubt that Rowanpaw would mend it or at least, try to.

"Foolish girl... come now, let's get you to the medicine den." He murmurs to her only to let his nose brush against her ear gently and he allows her to lean against him, Blister would guide her towards the medicine den with both of his ears angled forward, and he spares Owlbark one final glance before allowing himself to slip into the den that smelt heavily of herbs and poultices.

ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH TO TAKE THE BLAME FOR THIS?

BLISTERINGFURY

THUNDERCLAN WARRIOR
TRANS MASC x HE/THEY/IT​

x

"speech", thoughts, attacking
a longhaired tortoiseshell with several scars littering his body from the battle that broke out between the split colonies, a cruel reminder to the betrayal that he felt that day, and has a pair of emerald toned eyes. he has patches of ivory on his body along with more smoky gray spots near his cheeks, limbs, and tail.
parent of flickerdance, searingpaw, torridpaw, gutsypaw, and tenebrouspaw ; ex-mate of dunehusk and blacktree ; currently not interested in seeking out serious relationships or courting anyone

venom and sharpened words are normally thrown out from his jaws whenever he ends up on a patrol near shadowclan. this doesn't lessen in the slightest when he catches sight of his old flames either, if anything, he only feels angry and brandishes that anger as a weapon. the moggy isn't friendly to anyone outside of thunderclan and he's especially unkind to shadowclan.

 

[Briarpaw. Briarpaw.]

BRIARPAW, 12 moons / THUNDERCLAN APPRENTICE
A long-furred chocolate tortie with white tail tip.
Brother to Brick, Gracepaw, Echokit, Frecklekit, Victorykit
SPEECH || THOUGHTS
Tagging person here

---

Briarpaw's blood still thundered in his veins, adrenaline pumping through his entire body. He'd gotten in an excellent hit, but it had been far overshadowed by the injuries of his Clanmates.

We could've killed it, he though sullenly. If Owlbark hadn't forced us back... If the other two hadn't gotten that hurt...

And Loonstar. Their leader's soft voice grated on his nerves, her lack of urgency almost laughable. Would they cower like mice in a hole?

Unlike his companions, no one stepped forward to ask after his wellbeing. No one ever had.

That was fine. He definitely wasn't jealous.

Not at all.

 

[Copperstorm]

You walk along the edge of danger
AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU

.

Copperstorm pressed his flank steadfastly against Boarthorn's, refusing to let his son's weight pull him down. His heart hammered beneath his ribs, too fast, too hard, as he stared at the wounds that painted Boarthorn's thick fur a frightening red. The fox hadn't dealt the killing blow... But the blood. Stars above, the blood was far too much. He spared Owlbark a brief look, gratitude burning in his wild golden eyes, but it flickered away again just as quickly when Boarthorn's strength failed him entirely. Copperstorm leaned harder, bracing them both, breath shuddering out through bared teeth.

Daisynose arrived, paws already pressed against a gash, Loonstar spoke words, steadying words, but words would not save his son. Action would. Rowanpaw would. " Moss. " he rasped out, voice rough and edged with panic he fought desperately to hide. " We need moss, something to stop the bleeding. " His hackles rose, not in anger, but fear. He couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not again, not another death, another family wound torn open.

Blisteringfury's words reached his ears, talking to Tenebrouspaw, he glanced sharply toward the other for a moment. And in doing so, he caught Briarpaw among the battered faces. Whole. Standing. Thank the stars. " You fought fiercely, Briarpaw. " he told the other with a curt nod, brief, but sincere. " Like a true warrior. If you're not injured, get yourself to the den and rest. " But his gaze returned at once to Boarthorn, as if it were a lifeline. His paws hovered protectively, dread and determination coiled tightly in his chest.

" Hold on... " he murmured, not a command, but a plea. " I've got you, son. "

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

37 MOONS

𖧧

THUNDERCLAN

𖧧

SONG

𖧧

bio

 

[rowanfeather]

☆ Sending someone to fetch Rowanpaw is unnecessary; she smells the blood in the air long before she hears her name called. Boarthorn enters her den, bloodied, barely clinging on to consciousness. Too many cats enter with him, clinging, desperate. She understands, but still sweeps her tail as she shakes her head.

"I need room to work," she says, "anyone who isn't injured, please leave. Fetch some wet moss if you want to help. Boarthorn will need plenty of water to help with the blood loss, fresh kill too, when he's regained some strength," she glances at Copperstorm– "you too. Please. I'll fetch you if anything changes."

The usually nervous girl settles into routine, paws working fast, locating every gash and wound under Boarthorn's pelt. She knows how to do this, knows the rhythm of it, even feels confident doing it. His injuries were bad, but she could fix him. She'd fixed Requiem.

She darts back and forth between her storage and Boarthorn, whose neck is soon swaddled in moss and spider webs, stretching down his back, making him look like he's suddenly grown a great white-green mane.

Stop the bleeding first, then treat the wounds. She can't do anything if he bleeds out. She takes a few poppy seeds, placing them next to his head.

"Eat," she says, softer now. "Then sleep, little boar. You'll be fine."

She stands up, looking around. "Does anyone else need urgent care?"

☆ ROWANFEATHER. 14 moons
mentored by serpentberry,
adopted daughter of serpentberry and thornstar
peaceful powerplay allowed
ooc -

 

[Boarthorn Boarthorn]

Lead carefully within the medicine den, Boarthorn near enough collapsed into a nest, tears welling in some mixture of relief and agony at the sound of Rowanpaw. Even with her name still that of an apprentice, she had become a comforting, guiding figure to the young warrior. Careful and kind, and most of all, gentle.

The medicine den grew quiet, the first semblance of it in a while; all they could hear was the thrumming of their heart in their ears, and Rowan silently padding his wounds with moss and cobweb. It was only the sting of pain when she moved him to press moss into wounds that would remind him he was still conscious. He was terrified to slip beneath, to let the dizzying weight of his eyelids droop closed.

Then, Rowan stepped away. While the agony remained, and his pelt still sticky with crimson, she had succeeded in ceasing his blood loss. Boarthorn only knew from the sudden stillness, where he could finally lie in the nest too small for his size, but still curled within as exhaustion finally took hold. He had held so much together, and now he had to have been pieced back together by the clan's soul healer.

Silence of the den was broken by the too-soft voice of the other, a certain gentleness Boar only recalled when he was a kitten, but in that moment, it was a reassurance. Tiny seeds, one of the few herbs he knew, were placed before him. The too-large cat looked up to the medicine cat with exhaustion, but even so, he smiled. It was strange, he had outgrown many cats, his mentor, his mother, his kin and clanmates, but Rowan saw Boar for how he felt, something small parading in a shell far too large. He hadn't grown into his daunting exterior, heart too soft for what could be moulded into a weapon.

Boarthorn was no weapon.

He shifted slightly towards the seeds and lapped them up. It would take some time for the relief to wash over the tom, but the knowledge that his pain would slowly be sapped was enough for him to relax. "Thank you, Rowan." His words were more of a mumble, already sleep tugging at his eyes. He was safe, now. Boar trusted Rowan to sleep; he knew if anything wrong happened, she would be there. He just hoped now the rest of his patrol mates were okay, and he wouldn't worry Dewshine too much...

​

BOARTHORN He/They, Thunderclan Ranger, 12 moons.
A long-haired, blue ticked tabby tom with a prominent underbite, blue eyes and growing vitiligo.
mentored by Loonstar // mentoring no one
littermate to Saltpaw // sibling to Leveretkit, Primrosekit, Nettlekit, Butterflykit, Plumkit, Squirrelkit & Olivekit.
Copperstorm x Dewshine // parent to none // mated to no one
"SPEECH" // "THOUGHTS" // ATTEMPTED ACTION
penned by Pheo ↛ phoenixwashere on discord, feel free to dm for plots.