Hello and welcome to Purrgatory! We are an 18+ Warrior Cat Roleplay set in an AU where the clans were unable to leave the forest territories and perished! It has been 100 or more years since then, the clans of the forest are but distant memories to any cats still alive, stories passed down to kits of strangely named wild warriors and leaders with nine lives but the time of the clans is upon us once more and the stars shine yet again.

Gathering 2025 TW: Sensitive Content TW: Death Open why did love put a gun in my hand ↠ disturbance

This gathering took place in the year 2025.
Please review the more detailed TW summary at the top of the post.
Character death is present in this thread.

Meadowpaw turned, her smile dashed the instant. Rowanpaw rushed off before she even had a chance to register what was being said. The three-legged apprentice rose, stumbling to catch up.

The scent of blood slammed into her like a gust of cold wind. The sickening metallic stench curled in her nose. She followed the other apprentices toward the commotion, an uneasy churn settling deep in her stomach.

When the scene unfolded, her legs nearly gave out. A silver tom lay sprawled in the dirt, a massacre painted around him. Blood was everywhere—on his fur, pooling into the grass, splattered on a tom that she assumed to be his attacker The tissue in her throat clenched, and she found it suddenly hard to breathe. She remained paralyzed, speechless, while Rowanpaw took control of the situation.

Meadowpaw hated it. Hated how pathetic she felt. But this... this was more than she could take. Nausea clawed up her throat. If she had eaten anything before leaving, she might've rejected the soup in her stomach. Even with the horror before them, Rowanpaw stayed composed. Meadowpaw found herself captivated once again. The other apprentice was everything that a medicine-cat should be. Smart... composed... compassionate. While she's glad Rowanpaw is there, she is also ashamed.

The other apprentice was so put together but she was struggling to even digest what she was seeing. Was she supposed to get used to horrific sights like this? Did she have to?

Stars, I hoped not.

Green eyes snapped up to meet amber, and Meadowpaw was pulled back to the present. "Y-yes! M-moss, I'll be right back." She stammered, twisting on her heels toward the great tree nearby. Beneath its shaded roots is where she searched until she found what was needed. With careful teeth, she stripped a thick patch of moss, shaking it loose of bugs and debris before hurrying back.

When she returned, Rowanpaw was already tending to Pikestar's body, smoothing his fur. The peace that lay over him was false, fleeting. That was a small comfort, especially to those who had to watch it happen. No, it would not take their hurt but at least their grief would be short-lived. He would wake just as Dustystar had. He would wake up… but not like this. Not with blood still caked in his fur, staining the lovely silver a tarnished red.

Meadowpaw offered a tuft of moss to Rowanpaw and kept one for herself, settling beside the silver tom. She dabs gently at his face, desperately trying to steady her feeble trembling. She felt so ashamed that she did not step up to comfort those who cared for him as Rowanpaw had... But she could still help in some way.

I'm so sorry this happened to you… I don't know what led to this, but I know you didn't deserve it. No one deserves this.

His wounds were telling of a passion, of a vibrant rage, but she couldn't understand it. How cats could leap to violence without a thought. How their claws could strike down their own without a thought for those who loved them. Just like someone had done to Dustystar. Tears prickled her lashes, but she held together, heart clenching in her chest.

______________I believe that there is a courage ✿ but its burnin' like ash in the wind_____________
  • "speech" - thoughts

    Sorry guys she's never seen a crime scene before, she's a little traumatized rn.
  • ​
  • Meadow she/her & windclan
    ✿ Three-legged black and red tortoiseshell with green eyes.
    ✿ A light crisp-sounding voice
    ✿ Loves flowers and always has some woven into her fur
    ✿ Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted. All others DM.
    ✿ Fur smells floral and mildly sweet.

    penned by Scarlet​
 
Let's play like we're children and sing till the moons full

Before the day we turn to nothing but sand
​

Why did everything have to fall apart the moment she wasn't around to stop it?

Frantic, shaky paws dug through the foliage at the edge of the clearing, bringing herself into the trees to swipe at the largest webs she could find in her urgent search. Thank the stars that the Gathering happened at night, when some of the biggest webs were built for the bugs who prefered the darkness. Such intricately built homes were destroyed in her desperation, the eight legged resident scurrying to the safety of a branch to begin building again as the culprit jumped away. A entire paw was swathed in the gleaming silk and she only hoped that was enough. Only pray it would stop the bleeding she had seen from afar, when she had stumbled out an apology to the newly acquanted Copperstorm before bolting to find what she had seen Jingle-Mingle use in tight situations. He was not here after all, having stayed home to keep an eye on the two sickly kittens that he had in his care. And with whatever was going on with Skyclan's arrival, she was sure the other clans' medicine cats barely noticed what had happened...

'Please be enough, Please be enough, dear stars, please dont let it be bad, please dont let one of them to be...' Peachtrot couldnt even let that thought finish as she arrived at the scene, hobbling on three legs and breathing heavily in her desperation. Leaves and twig stuck out of her long coat from her rush to find and collect whatever cobwebs she could. Late... By the time she arrived, half of the council was already there, hissing and spitting at Adderfang who was pinned underneath the large swath of fur that was Pineheart. Her heart hammered in her chest at the scent of blood, the scarlet soaking into the ground at everyone's paws, the droplets clinging to teeth and claws that were being pressed into dirt and grime. And then... ocean blue found silver fur, ragged and stained. Split and bleeding from multiple wounds...

'You're late...' Without a word to anyone around, white tipped paws pushed herself forward, claws already seperating the sticky webs from her fur, just like she had seen Jinglemoon do. They were trembling and she could feel her chest tighten as she was now hovering over her leader's still body. There was a stranger there, the mention of cobwebs and moss trickling into her hearing. "I-I...found some..." The words were meek but they were there, a single paw raised to show the swath of silk she had gathered. "I-I can... I-I've seen J-Jingle..." Peachtrot couldn't finish her want to ask permission, wanting to help before Pikestar got even worse. Before more blood stained the ground where he laid.

Her friend wasn't moving, chest all to still and this kind but unknown youngling was asserting herself with words that almost didn't reach her. Almost. "Not everyone has the benefit of extra lives." "It's no way to come back, covered in blood like that." The words eased the ache in her chest ever so slightly. She wasn't sure what it meant or why they stopped her from outright panicking, but the way the red tinted molly spoke, like it was just another ailment that she had seen and dealt with before, like it was simply another day in her life as a medicine cat. It covered the boiling pot that was threatening to spill and burn.

That didn't stop her from being frozen, unsure of what to do. The perpetrator had already been subdued, one of his own council members. She wanted to lash out at him. Wanted to ask him why he could do such a thing, when it would just create a bigger rift between him and Wavesong once she found out. And she would find out, with the evidence so blatantly on his claws and fangs and peppering their leader's pelt. But Peachtrot couldn't bring herself to. Not when Pikestar still needed to be cleaned up and helped in anyway they could. So when the molly she didn't catch the name of turned her attention back to the silver tom, the life guard shakily whispered once she was near. "I-I was to late... but wh-what can I do to help him..."

'Why are you always late...'
​
OOC ✧❦✧ Basic Info
  • ooc
     —— xxx
  • string of lyrics / lengty or short quote goes
    here
    ​
    ​
  • Peachtrot She/Her
    ❀ A Long Haired Red Classic Tabby with Low White & Ocean Blue Eyes
    ❀ Life Guard of Riverclan
    ❀ 41 moons; Ages on the 23rd of every month
    ❀ speech thought attack
    ❀ peaceful + healing powerplay permitted
    penned by Taru​
​
 
(⏾) pikestar has always been softhearted. it's one of the things willowburn loathes and loves about him. his sweetness, his jovial confidence, it bouys him to places she can never go. he is starclan's chosen for a reason, which means ultimately, the pitch hued woman will follow him to the ends of the earth. tonight, she is too late to follow him where he goes. stuck to her brother's side like a burr, willowburn sees the commotion at the same time that smokewreath does. the twins heads turn in unison, their paws thundering over the grassy clearing in heartbeats. her brother roars at adderfang, puts himself beside pineheart to block the ruddy tabby's advances. willowburn feels her own heart shatter at the sight of pikestar's prone body, of the crimson that pools round his head and stains her clanmate's paws. ex-clanmate, it seems. willowburn lifts her tail to shield crescentpaw's view of her father in his murderous state.

adderfang had always been a steady presence, a strict and firm warrior within riverclan, an excellent father to his younglings. now he stands a stranger amongst the chaos. frostmoth, little brother, brave boy, snarls with authority clear in his tone. pride for the younger boy floods willowburn as she watches, verdant eyes poisonous as if daring the attacker to be so bold as to deny his deputy. the smoke she-cat thinks of wavesong, of her lilted lullabies to ill kits back at home. does she feel this pain now, some phantom ringing in her head telling her chaos has stolen a life from this world? riverclanners scatter, hustling in medicine cat apprentices. juncopaw headbutts smokewreath's flank and willowburn curls her tail across the apprentice's back for a brief moment. "stay back, fledgeling," she murmurs to her niece.

now she turns back to pikestar as frostmoth handles things, her gaze softening as it falls upon his body. deathly stiff and cold he is, but thunderclan's healer apprentice murmurs something about extra lives as if this is not a final night for their leader. "what do you mean?" she asks lowly, tail whipping. is it possible for pikestar to come back? do starclan truly have the power to shove his soul back into his ravaged body? her own herb knowledge is entirely unhelpful here. pack a wound with cobwebs. poppy seeds for sleep. every bit of advice she'd picked up from the shipyard is something these young healers have known since birth. peachtrot stumbles in with moss and cobwebs aplenty. willowburn ushers her forth, aids her in giving the bandages to the healers. as they work, green eyes flick to frostmoth again, mouth set as she knocks her shoulder against him. "i will round up the clan. we need to get him home." she is no life guard, no deputy, but she can still act on his permission. "we need jinglemoon."


WITH THE ECHOING HYMN ⏾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE
  • // uhh following @Smokewreath then comforting @JUNCOPAW then helping @Peachtrot with the moss/cobwebs then talking to @Frostmoth " #87874b"
  • WILLOWBURN
     ⏾ SHE / THEY. RIVERCLAN WARRIOR. 35 MOONS. PENNED BY LAVS.
    a lithe black smoke feline with ghost striping and leaf green eyes. long smoky fur dashed through with grey and white adorns her frame, sliced across by darker stripes that frame her face and legs. eyes like sage, brilliantly green, gaze with an intelligent look. she is scarred across the bridge of her angular nose.
​
 
Green eyes shoot open followed by a gasp. A paw rests on his face. The reaction is immediate, the silver leader's frame begins to tremble. The last time a paw rested on his face was when it scraped its claws into it. Another runs down his back. The last time paws ran down his back was to drag him down, claws raking against flesh. He wanted to scream. To bat away the paw from his face, to wiggling away from the paw at his back, and yet his body failed to cooperate. Fear clouds his judgement, unable to realize that the paw resting against his face was not from his murderer. His trembling only worsens when he sees the paw retract from his face. NO! STOP! ADDERFANG! PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU! PLEASE! STOP! HELP ME!

There is no blow. Only a gentle caress. H-huh? The trembling hadn't ceased, no, not yet. It's in this moment he finally begins to take in his surroundings. For one, the cat who is caressing him is a stranger. The scent that emanates from her is Windclan's without a doubt. He didn't get to interact with the members of Windclan outside a select few, to his great displeasure. After all, he and Dustystar agreed on getting to know one another more. For their clans to tolerate one another at the very least, as Windclan could never abandon its kin and Riverclan couldn't abandon their rage. Then, green eyes glance toward Rowanpaw. The scent of Thunderclan clung to her pelt. While Riverclan and Thunderclan had no issues (that he was aware of) between one another, he couldn't say they were allies. I'm going to remember you two. You didn't have to be by my side. You didn't have to show me kindness. I'm not your leader, but still... The silver leader would tilt his head slightly to face her and smile,
"Thank you."
Perhaps they wouldn't understand the depths of his gratitude through simple words, but that was fine. What they needed to be prepared for was when he would go to the borders of their clans to thank each properly.

However, there are others he must take care of. Slowly he rises from the ground. It quickly occurs to him that there was another thing Starclan failed to mention. I know they said they'll give me nine lives and all, but you'd think they'd mention it'll still hurt coming back. Can I send a complaint or something? Aren't they supposed to say these things before thrusting you into leadership? The discomfort painting his features is probably a little amusing. Maybe. Maybe when they can look back on this moment and laugh about it. Don't ask him what day month and second that would ever happen, but one could dream! For now, his entire body ached. Even with... Wait. He looks down, only for his head to snap up as soon as he sees a pool of blood. OKAY. Let's. Let's not do that again. When they were back home he would see what the damage was. Yes, that was a better idea. He didn't need to know about the new scars given to him by Adderfang just yet.

Pikestar really shouldn't get sidetracked like this. Especially with so many eyes on him. Throughout the sea of worried faces from his clan, he is only concerned about one in particular. He can't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he sees that Iciclepaw is okay. Maybe a little battered, but nothing too severe. He's going to have nightmares about this, isn't he?
"I'm okay."
It's all he can offer in his moment towards his apprentice. The one who called him father before dying. The one who slowly but surely became a son to him. His gaze would slowly drifts to Russetfall. She is met with silence, before Pikestar turns his head away to slowly attempt to piece together what transpired while he was dead.

For one, the moment he sees Adderfang pinned down by Pineheart... Now, he wasn't surprised that the others would pin the former life guard down. No, he was flabbergasted by how small the other warrior looked under Pineheart. Granted, Pineheart was massive, so he really shouldn't be surprised. I'm going to laugh if I look too long. I'm gonna get on with it.
"Sooooo... Uh, I guess I have some explaining to do?"


The silence was deafening. He really should've expected this, considering he never told anyone aside from a select few about the whole nine lives deal.
"Which we'll discuss back at home. I'm still in pain believe it or not, and these two lovely medicine cats have to return to their clans at some point."
In all honesty he wouldn't mind if the pair decided to linger, but the last thing he wanted was for Thunderclan and Windclan to be upset at him keeping their medicine cats. After all, medicine cats were valuable to each and every clan. Even though he's said it before, he will say it again.
"Thank you. Both of you. Before you leave, would you mind telling me your names? I'd like to know the names of the cats who helped Riverclan."
Regardless of whether or not they share their names, he would dip his head in respect towards them.

Once the medicine cats are dealt with he turns to his deputy.
"Frostmoth, what did you decide for Riverclan?"
It shouldn't be surprising that Pikestar is calm when inquiring the choice his deputy made while he was unable to. After all, Frostmoth was in charge of the clan. His words held the same weight of a leader, and Pikestar saw no reason in dismissing them. If anything, he wanted to respect the decision made by Frostmoth.
"What will happen to Adderfang?"
He doesn't wait for his deputy to answer before turning to the rest of his clan. I want no misunderstandings.
"A deputy is in charge when a leader is unable to. The very moment I died, Frostmoth's words were not of a deputy. He was your leader. The decisions he made were those of a leader. A most trusted leader. He may have returned to being your deputy, but the decisions he made still carry the weight of a leader. I want to honor those decisions."


Whether or not they still viewed it as him relying on Frostmoth, it didn't matter. As much as he disliked them in believing as such, he knew it would take time for it to change. For so long he's been relying heavily on his council to do his work. He owed them all an apology for his cowardice, his indecisiveness, and his reluctance in growing. I should invite them all for a talk. A real one. This time we'll listen to one another. When we're all back home. For now, there's something that needs to be settled first.

Purposely, Pikestar moves to stand besides his equal.
"I trust you. Now, tell us. What decisions will be made."

𝐨𝐨𝐜 𓆩♱𓆪 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭
  • PIKESTAR
     — leader of riverclan, former shipyard cat
    ♱ 39 moons — he/him — ages realistically on the 1st — mentoring iciclepaw
    ♱ speech is
    "#00caa2"
    — thoughts are italics — attacks are underlined
    ♱ short haired silver mackerel tabby with green eyes
    ♱ peaceful & healing powerplay permitted — underline & tag when attacking
    ♱ penned by velou — kasaven on discord — open to plots & dms
 
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Blood roared in his veins like a river in flood. Voices warped in and out, water through a drainpipe. A pest tugged at his coattails and he whirled to push it off, barely registering the blur of white in his peripheral. Claws tore mercilessly at the tom beneath him, blood freckled his face, clouding his vision with red.

Even as jaws snagged his scruff, he clung on, needles gouging deeper into the silver pincushion beneath him. He snarled, lungs dragging in the dust of churned earth and blood-splattered grass. His fury didn't abate—only burned hotter at being dragged from his target. Adderfang thrashed, claws still lashing at the air, clipping at what held him, fighting even as a weight pinned him in place. A snarl ripped from his throat, legs twitching defiantly until Pineheart's voice finally carved through the haze.

"—Your kits are back at camp!"

That stilled him. Slitted amber eyes flicked to the tom pinning him, only now registering the name and face of what stood in his way. Fury still trembled in his limbs, but it ebbed—if only slightly. "I am not throwing anything away! My kits are dying!" He rasped, desperation cracking his voice. "Why won't any of you do something?! Why are you letting him get away with doing nothing!?" He roared, eyes darting to each disdain-filled face. If they didn't care about him, fine. They could hate him. Make him into some monster, when all he ever wanted was to protect his family. He couldn't have given less of a shit how they felt about him... But Wavesong and the kits? If they cared, then they why wouldn't they do something? Even Pineheart was against him, dooming his kits to their deaths. "They're going to die… If you all won't... I have to save them!" His eyes felt raw as he struggles beneath the tom in one more futile attempt to free himself. A sharp ache twists in his chest.

He'd watched the kits get worse by the day. He'd found Pikestar laughing and smiling with the same enemies they had to thank for that. He'd continued to beg—bargain—scream for something to change, but he continued to go unheard. If he had to die to keep them alive, he would. If he had to kill, he would. He would make that sacrifice happily. He would give anything just to see them live… To not have to endure that grief again.

He could feel the blood thick on his pelt, clots of fur sticking between his pads. Amber eyes shifted from one face to the next. Their gazes bore down on him now, full of fear and disdain, disgust too. Finally seeing the snake in the grass for the first time.

Adderfang looks to where Pikestar lay. The tom wasn't even looking at him. A visceral gargle seeps from his throat, limbs spasming and twitching with death.

He never meant for it to happen this way. Contrary to what the rest of them must've thought, he didn't relish in ending Pikestar's life. He never planned for it. Never wanted it. Sure, he'd wanted to smash his face in plenty of times, but kill him? Adderfang hated him, but all he wanted was for something to be done. For the tom to step down from the position he wasn't suited for. To let someone more capable take his place. Why couldn't he just have listened? He always had to be a stubborn bastard about everything, even to his last breath.

A bicolor pelt shifted into view. Adderfang twisted his head, squinting up at the deputy. Frostmoth… The younger tom had confided in him not too long ago, been on his side at the council meeting. To say he was close with the tom would've been an exaggeration. It was news to him that the deputy had looked up to him. Not that it mattered anymore. Any trace of that was gone now—the same anger and disdain reflected in those pale blue eyes. Frostmoth's words were weighed. Each word dragged him further into the pit Adderfang had dug for himself.

Did Pikestar really mean that much to them? While he didn't want Pikestar to die, the tom had been useless. He was never the leader they needed. He would've driven all they built to ruin, yet now they turned on him, gnashing their teeth like wolves.

He shouldn't be surprised. What reason did he have to feel so betrayed? All was inevitable. They couldn't be less soft, and he couldn't be less rough. An impasse. Oil and water. Never to mix. They would never understand him, and he them.

"You have to leave."

Their softness prevailed over them still. Though he was glad for it this time. If the choice were his, he wouldn't have offered mercy. What Pineheart had been trying to tell him was now staring him in the face, but not just in the eyes of the mob surrounding him.

Iciclepaw's sob breaks through. Only then does his cold mask bear the slightest crack of regret. He vaguely remembers something pulling at him, begging him to stop. He was only a boy. He shouldn't have had to watch. "I know." Wavesong... If he could go home now, would Wavesong even look at him again? No. He knew she wouldn't. The same thing he loathed Pikestar for… was the very reason he loved her. She wouldn't be able to forget and he wouldn't be able to forgive. The blood on his jaws might wash clean, but how could he touch her again, knowing it was stained with the blood of someone she considered a friend? He hurt her, and he would continue to hurt her in the days to come. Maybe they were right and he was a monster after all.

Adderfang swallowed, blood binding with spit, sticking to the back of his throat like honey. Grief—exhaustion—guilt—all mixed into a sickening cocktail. Before he could answer, a familiar voice cut through the air. It crashed over his eardrums like rushing cold water.

He shifted just enough to tilt his head toward Pikestar, eyes narrowed and glassy with disbelief. The tom rose before his eyes, smiling, thanking those around him.

"What—What is this?" His words trembled on his tongue, breath turning ragged. Pikestar was dead. He was. The death rattle in his throat had been real enough, the gash over his neck had been deep—too deep to mend. No… maybe his claws hadn't scored as deep as he thought. That had to be it. These medicine cats had patched him up. That was the only thing that made sense.

"Get off me, Pine." He gargled, saliva thick with bitterness. "I'll go." The soreness in his limbs was prevalent, a welcome distraction from processing what his eyes were telling him. His muzzle scraped the ground, head twisting to fix a dull eye on the bear of a tom holding him down.

// ENDING CREDITS YOUTUBE and ENDING CREDITS SPOTIFY

___________________ There wasn't a wrong or a right he could choose 𓆟 He did what he had to do ________________
  • "speech" - thoughts

  • Click to expand...
  • Adderfang he/him & riverclan
    𓆟 Chocolate ticked tabby w/ amber eyes. Peppered with scars. Deep gash across the right side of his face exposing one canine slightly. Missing left ear.
    𓆟 Deep gravelly voice that might unsettle others.
    𓆟 Would and will kill a man.
    𓆟 Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted. For other powerplays, DM.
    𓆟 Fur smells faintly of river reeds and damp earth.

    penned by Scarlet​
 
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—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦


The tom had followed the scent of blood, trying to steel himself from the wails and carnage elsewhere. There was a small huddle of cats near the edge of the gathering; it was no wonder it had been scarcely noticed, to the outside observer it seemed like a Riverclan huddle, and that wasn't far from the truth.

He tread carefully, respectfully, a lump growing in his throat, seeing the limp body of Pikestar splayed across the ground, those he assumed were dear friends surrounding him. A tom dripping blood from his maw, having spat more vitrol before being silenced, the culprit. Merry didn't spare the tom another second of his attention, for as awful as a scenario this was, Meadowpaw needed to come home. Riverclan had a skilled healer of their own, albeit with low herb stores, still he assumed.

When his gaze fell on the little calico, his heart broke, she was shaken and trying desperately to help another young lady, he had to assume was the Thunderclan medicine apprentice, helping to patch Pikestar's wounds. It was cruel, they were just children, this should never have happened to force young apprentices to witness a murder so close and have to try and desperately patch up lethal wounds as Starclan release Pike back to the living one life short.

"Meadow? L-" The gentle nickname he still found himself stumbling not to use at her request, fumbling in his mouth before sighing. Bowing his head respectfully to the rest of the cats before padding over and pressing a nose to the top of the young calico's head in a reassuring gesture. "Windclan's returnin' to camp, there's been… More trouble with Skyclan's appearance." He omitted the knowledge of Thunderclan's part in it all. It didn't feel like his place to cause more unease for the other apprentice.

But, his gaze flickered to the bloodied form of the Riverclan leader, not flinching at the sight of his limp form surge with life once more. He had been witness to Dustystar's revival, and he did not speak a word nor draw any more attention as he and his deputy decided the fate of the seeming traitor in their midst.

Instead, he turned back to Meadow, speaking to her quietly so as not to interrupt the mess of bureaucracy in their vicinity. "We can head back with the clan now, but it's up to ya' if ya' wanna hold back 'nd make sure Pike 'ere is okay, I can lend that extra paw if ya' need." He would rather scoop up Meadow and head straight home, but it was her call, she had a duty of care and he didn't want to force her to leave if she was determined to try and do more to help. Though like fuck he would leave Meadowpaw alone when that murderous bastard was anywhere in her vicinity.

— And it's harder than you think,
Telling dreams from one another. —
  • Talking to @Meadowpaw he's here to be an uber LMAO
  • Merrystalk
    ✦—Windclan Gale Guard | 29 Moons
    ✦—He/Him
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
    #9D6E46
 
Crescentpaw remembers the sound of a steady rushing river, his own voice much younger than it is now acting out the last time Adderfang had ripped Pikestar to shreds. Metaphorically, always metaphorically. The word seashell had been used, she's older now and understands what the word means besides his fathers best efforts. He also knows what the other words he uses to fling at Pikestar this time mean. Standing beside Willowburn he finds his ear flicking in the pairs direction, browbone denting in what sometimes feels like a permanent crease. "What's going on?" He murmurs to his mentor, whatever initial statement Adderfang had made couldn't be clearly heard by his child but he recognizes the snarl. Recognizes the tone used, barely picks up on the ending.

"..."You know what I said to Pike was wrong, right..." He recalls that too. The lesson taught that day had been held in high regard though Crescentpaw wasn't really sure she wanted to follow it sometimes. Always holding his own tongue back when frustrated and thinking about how others must feel. That's what his father wanted him to take away from it at the time, at least he thinks so. Paws shuffle to move a little closer, never out of Willowburn's sight and he's keenly aware of her anchoring presence nearby as a crowd begins to form around the snarling tom. Pikestar's labelled a coward, following bitter reminder of Wavesong's potential fate. The fate of her siblings, delivered harshly through the calloused hands of justice that was Adderfang.

"...you should never say things like that to anyone—especially not when you're angry..." He thinks to speak up. To remind his father of the guiding words he had used. Fear is what holds him back, not particularly of the fire spitting tabby but rather the situation at paw. He doesn't find the strength to, that's because in some ways she silently agrees with everything that he says. Crescentpaw is frustrated too, scared. She doesn't want her family to die and is desperate to cling onto something to anchor that blame onto. Where Adderfang is loud she is quiet, brows ever creased as her gaze flickers to those gathered.

"When you get mad, take a big ol' gulp of air,"

Inhale. Exhale.

The snarl jolts him from his self maintained breathing excercise. Adderfang has been mad sure but Crescentpaw can't recall a time where he's ever been this upset. She doesn't see her father throughout this whole interaction, not between the crowded cats and by the time they actually reach the point of impact he is shielded by the tail of Willowburn. She means well, he knows that but that frustration builds within her own chest once more. "Willowburn- please" Her voice is tight, a contained snapping creature clinging onto desperation instead as another emotion to anchor him. She had heard the body fall, that subtle sound of trickling blood as clanmates call our in outrage to Adderfang as he had done the unthinkable.

"Leave him alone!" It's a rather shrill call, frustration pours from him in blinked away tears. Ducking away from Willowburns tail and trying to get closer to the tom. A fools errand, a failed attempt with the warriors present. What right does anyone have to say about this? It's an unfair thought but one he clings onto. Fangs click together as his tail lashes, helplessly trying to push closer but with no progress. "Dad!" It's a kittens call rather than one of a prideful apprentice, she tries to pay no mind to it. Then the unthinkable happens, Pikestar gets back up! There's hope, foolish hope, that he hadn't actually died then. It was just the tom lashing out, that no permenant damage happened. Pikestar, ever forgiving, benelovent Pikestar would forgive him. Adderfang could go home and maybe he wouldn't be part of the leaders circle anymore but he could be home and that's what matters.

The disappointment Crescentpaw tastes is bitter. It curdles on his tongue and burns her throat. "You can't! Don't leave it up to Frostmoth!" He tries to not screech, tries to be coherent but she can feel his throat gurgle with the urge to babble. To scream and throw a tantrum. It wasn't fair! Stuck stomping her paws like a petulant child all he can think about how unfair it is. "Please Pikestar!" What about Wavesong? What about his siblings? It wasn't fair to them either. He didn't want to go home without his father, what kind of home is that? "Don't make him leave" It's quieter than the rest of his outburst. Maw trembling with that annoying ever present frustration and desperation. Far too focused aiming her anger at anyone who wasn't Adderfang, he doesn't deserve it from him in his eyes. Not when the clan was already delivering that to him just fine, she couldn't bring herself to hate him too.
 
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Reactions: Frostmoth, Jinglemoon and FLEAFIRE
FALLING FOR THE PROMISE OF THE
EMPTINESS MACHINE

.

She had failed. She had failed and the idiot had the gall to tell her it wasn't her fault with his dying breath when she should have been there. Russetfall should have been there rather than let Coyoteclaw handle it, that much was clear. A mistake that couldn't be taken back now that the leader was dead.

She moves aside almost robotically when Rowanpaw and Meadowpaw are summoned, barely hearing the older apprentice's reassurances over the cacophony of her clanmates arguing amongst themselves on what to do with Adder after murdering Pikestar. Her lip curls, head whipping over her shoulder ready to snap some retort to the traitor that never actually leaves her maw-

Pikestar rises. He rises from the dead and she stares, dumbfounded, as he seems to take every lesson and warning the Life Guard had given him to heart all at once. "Pike, you-" She cuts herself off as he turns away to face Adderfang under Pineheart, frustration making her pelt prickle.

'Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything before, Pike?'

For a moment she stands, green eyes darting from Adder to Pike to Frostmoth before turning away from them all. She already knew the outcome of this. There was no real reason to hover when she could be useful elsewhere.

"Peachtrot, help me gather the rest of Riverclan. Once this is settled between Adder and Pike we should go home before more blood is spilled." An ear flicks towards the center of the clearing. "This gathering was a failure, from the looks of it."

Without waiting to see if her fellow council members respond, the molly stalks off.


22 moons
◆
Life Guard of Riverclan
◆
she/her
◆
tags


it's been decided how we lose
RUSSETFALL

— Life Guard of Riverclan
— She/Her
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— A Green-eyed Chocolate Mackerel Tabby With Low White
#8a2c55


ooc:
 

Chaos swirls around Frostmoth, who stands silently by Pineheart and Smokewreath as the scene unfolds. Two medicine cat apprentices are swift to appear and offer their assistance. Fear spikes the air around them, but ultimately despite his horror Frostmoth finds that he lacks a feeling of surprise. The deputy's eyes linger on the fallen form of Pikestar, still unmoving and unbreathing even as Rowanpaw and Meadowpaw work to help him. What if it had been untrue or some sort of farce? What if Adderfang has cost them their first leader, in a clan that already lacks stability? He is all but ready to tell Pineheart to let Adderfang go just so they can chase him until their lungs run out of air and their legs grow numb.

But Pikestar heaves a breath.

Frostmoth cannot help but to gasp at the sight. The grey form of the leader pulls himself to his feet and begins to speak. His paws want him to lurch forward and get a better look, but he remains rooted in place. There is already a lot of clamoring. His purpose is better served here instead. Pikestar begins thanking his clanmates and the medicine cats that have come to his aid. 'Well, that is Pikestar alright,' Frostmoth thinks silently, nearly scoffing at the incredulousness of the entire situation. And then green eyes are turned on him.

The bicolor wants to disappear when he finds such sheer weight on him. Unless something were to happen to him, there could come a day when this would solely be his responsibility. Not just as a stand-in while StarClan pieced his leader back together again. The thought is dizzying, but Frostmoth reminds himself that now is not the time to have an existential crisis. Pikestar expects an answer of him. "Exile," he replies, mouth dry "I exiled him." He is responsible for RiverClan's first exile. Had he made the right decision? "Let him up," he requests of Pineheart at Adderfang's relent.

He dips his head down briefly before the lanky tomcat has the time to get up, uttering a warning. "Don't mistake your exile for softness," Frostmoth murmurs, close enough to Adderfang so that he might not be overheard by many others "I afforded you a kindness out of mercy for your children. Pineheart and Smokewreath would have sooner had you in pieces." There is a dangerous edge to the soft volume of his voice. Frostmoth moves away, lest he also fall victim to Adderfang's angry blows.

Behind him, Crescentpaw cries out in indignation. Frostmoth pities the apprentice, but not enough to allow her to approach or change his mind. "Please," Frostmoth locks eyes with Willowburn, taking her up on her previous offering to start rounding up RiverClan, relieved that there are clanmates willing to step away and ensure the safety of the rest of them "Take Crescentpaw with you. Peachtrot and Russetfall will help you all ensure everyone is safe getting home."

Frostmoth turns weary blue eyes back to Adderfang. The sharpness is gone. The venom has been drained. 'Why did you have to do this?' he asks silently, and stands among the cats he trusts the most, waiting for the former RiverClanner to absent himself.

OH, MY GOD ★ MAKE ME IN YOUR IMAGE
  • "SPEECH"
  • ★ FROST — he/him, riverclan deputy, 21 moons
    — penned by carat, feel free to ping or dm for plots!
    — longhair black and white bicolor with blue eyes
    — peaceful powerplay ok! all interactions ok!
  • penned by carat!
 



- TORRENTPAW -






Not some average bones, I believe in love!


.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⟡
The sudden yowls from the opposite side of the clearing had completely averted Torrentpaw's attention from the quarrel between Thunderclan and Skycklan, his body freezing as his ears swivelled towards a voice that was unmistakably Adderfang's.

Quickly on his paws, Torrentpaw weaved through the small crowd that separated himself from his now fighting clanmates, his heart slamming against his chest as the cries of claws meeting flesh filled the air.

The scent of fresh blood hit his throat before he saw it, and as Torrentpaw reached the scene, his eyes widened at the sight as he tried not to choke. There Pikestar lay, fur soiled with red as his eyes stared ahead of him, though they looked at nothing. Torrentpaw felt his ears slowly flatten against his skull, his gaze locked onto their bloodied and beaten leader as he lay sprawled onto the earth. A sudden rage of sadness and anger flared in his chest, though shock still held his body still.

Slowly tearing his gaze away from Pikestar as the sound of chaos reached his ears once more, he glanced over his clanmates as they snarled and snapped at one another, eventually finding Pineheart. He watched as his mentor held down another warrior, his heart lurching in surprise as his body lifted momentarily to reveal Adderfang. The fur along his neck began to rise, eyes darting to and from his mentor and the battered body of Pikestar as realization struck his body. Adderfang had killed him.

It wasn't Adderfang's aggressiveness that had surprised him–the older tom's visible aggravation at any time Pikestar opened his mouth had not gone unnoticed by Torrentpaw–but rather the extent of his anger that had led him to murder another. Once a cat that he had admired for his strength and love for his family, was now one he vowed to never become. Though Frostmoth's choice of exile weighed heavy on his own heart, he agreed nonetheless with the deputy's decision. Adderfang's violence had solved nothing.

Swallowing hard, Torrentpaw's eyes flashed upward as another cat padded into view, stating herself as Thunderclan's medicine cat. He listened to her words, body stiff as he tried to grasp the sense in what she was saying. What did she mean, he had lost one of his lives? He had heard mentions of starclan from Pikestar before, but there had been so much going on in Riverclan that he could hardly start to ponder the legitimacy of something he could not see. Torrentpaw blinked, gaze travelling from the other apprentice and back to Pikestar as she spoke, hoping, wishing that she was right. That whatever "Starclan" was would give him back to Riverclan.

A few moments passed, and as though his wish had been granted, Pikestar's eyes shot open, and Torrentpaw let out a gasp of his own. His eyes shone with the shared astonishment of his clanmate's, not daring to draw another breath before Pikestar began to move. His gaze drew upward as Pikestar staggered to his paws, uttering his thanks and orders as if his heart had never stopped. Torrentpaw's mind reeled, shaking his head as he tried to rid the shock that held his body still. Was the Thunderclan medicine cat right? Had cats by the name of Starclan given life back to Pikestar?

Suddenly, he was pulled from his thoughts by Russetfall at the mention of gathering the rest of Riverclan, and he finally took a pawstep forward, limbs feeling liquidly. Not all of Riverclan's warriors had been gathered here, and it was clear it was time to leave the clearing. He clenched his jaw, kicking himself for standing here, gawking like a kit when he could have been thinking of ways to help, to be useful.

"I'll come with you." Torrentpaw meowed suddenly, padding hastily after Russetfall. "I can take the opposite side of the clearing, and make sure no one's left behind before we leave." He offered, his mind slowly beginning to uncloud from the shock as he gave himself a job to focus on.




‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ You can't change me ⟡ You can't hide me‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
  • ⟡ OOC -
  •  
  • Torrentpaw
     ‎ ‎ He/Him | Riverclan Apprentice
    ⟡
    "speech" - text - thoughts
    ⟡
    Mentored by Pineheart
    ⟡
    A rosetted charcoal Bengal.
    ⟡
    Has a sturdy build with a large head and paws, and short thick fur.
    ⟡
    Holds a zealous and determined demeanor.
    ⟡
    Usually seen with Squid


 
  • Sad
Reactions: Scarlet
MEADOWPAW
x


The grief, the fear, the fury hanging in the air was suffocating. Even without knowing the details, she could feel it thick in her lungs. So much pain. So much loss. It reminded her of the fire that took her home. This time, there was no fire, but he sure blazed like one.

What pushed him that far? What could make a cat hurt their own leader, their own family? Meadowpaw didn't want to believe it was malice. No… beneath the sparks, she thought she glimpsed something else. A hint of desperation, of fear.

She kept her eyes lowered as she worked, though now and then she stole glances around her while tending Pikestar. The moss moved gently across his fur, slowly scrubbing away the worst of the blood.

An orange molly turned to her, and Meadowpaw didn't have the heart to tell her there wasn't much to be done. "You can help clean the blood off him, if you want? Plus he might want to see a familiar face when he wakes up…" It's a gentle suggestion, punctuated with a scrap of moss offered to the molly. It'll be okay. He'll wake up soon.

If only all cats had more than one life. In a way, it felt unfair how leaders could defy death when others couldn't. But Meadowpaw understood, at least in part, why things were that way. Today was a perfect example of it. His wounds, though grave, began to scab. When at last his chest stirred and his eyes blinked open, Meadowpaw let out a soft sigh of relief.

She stood, stepping back to give space for those who knew him best. Though she doesn't expect it when he addresses them immediately to give thanks. "Meadowpaw, your… um… leadership." Well, that felt weird. Talking to Dustystar didn't feel nearly as awkward, and she was a leader. Then again, Meadowpaw had known her since she was a kit—but Pikestar was unfamiliar. He seemed kind enough, too kind for someone who had just gotten attacked by their clanmate and risen from the dead. "You only owe your thanks to Rowanpaw, though. I didn't do much."

Not long after does the whole thing take another bad turn. A white-furred apprentice rushed toward them, begging on the brown warrior's behalf. The cat who had attacked Pikestar… was her pa?

Meadowpaw's heart twisted. A family was coming apart right in front of her. She feels sick. She knew that feeling, though it never happened quite like that. Although after watching Merrystalk and Sassafras go at it, she worried it might. Watching them scrape over old wounds, leaving her aching worse than before. Meadowpaw tries to swallow the lump in her throat. She tears her eyes away just as Merrystalk appeared at her side.

Things were strange between them, but right now, she was just glad he was here—even if his arrival came with more bad news. "Merrystalk? Something else happened?" The back of her throat feels dry all of a sudden. "No... they have their own matters to handle. I'm sure Jinglemoon can manage the follow-up." She glanced back toward Rowanpaw, giving the other apprentice a tired smile. "Bye Rowanpaw, I had a fun time talking to you. Let's meet up again soon, okay?"

She didn't wait for a reply. Her legs carried her away before she could change her mind. Guilt tugged at her for not saying a proper goodbye—but she couldn't stay a moment longer. All she wanted was to do now was go home.

- - -
Addressing @Peachtrot , @PIKESTAR , @Merrystalk and @rowanpaw

xI BELIEVE THAT THERES COURAGEBUT ITS BURNIN' LIKE ASH IN THE WINDx
WINDCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE 10 MOONS SHE/HER
Meadowpaw values kindness and remembrance. As a kit, she internalized her mother's lessons, but questioned whether her way is the only way. She has broken free from the heavy burden of her mother's expectations due to their estrangement after the fire. She remains kind and soft-spoken through all she's endured, but is not afraid to speak out for what she believes is right.

Meadow works tirelessly at any task she undertakes, desperate to prove herself capable and worthy despite her disability. Without her mother's guidance, she finds new ways to express herself.

In conversations, she is gentle, thoughtful, and withdrawn, often hiding her struggles, fearing others seeing her as incapable. She continues to have a strong bond not only with her sister, but with her adopted family as well. Meadow uses her new freedom to support and deepen the bonds with her clanmates. Additionally, she has started to explore the more spiritual side of herself…

Her worldview is a complicated mix of hope and frustration. She wants to believe that there's hope at the end of all the suffering, but feels trapped by her limitations. With enough time and support, she may find a way to overcome her limitations and accept herself.
 
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you don't know half of the abuse
​
He had been a bit unsure about the gathering at first. Shadowclan definitely couldn't be trusted and he doesn't have enough experience with the other clans to tell whether they could be trusted or not. Still, he decided to go in the end, mainly because his mate Shiveringsong had decided to go too. He had stuck close to his clanmates since he wasn't really in the mood to socialise with cats from the other clans. Batgloom didn't fail to notice the argument between Adderfang and Pikestar though he didn't intervene. It simply wasn't his place to. He did however wonder why Adderfang had to choose this time for this.

He moves quickly to help when he noticed Adderfang attacked Pikestar. He hadn't expected one of his clanmates to do something like this, so he isn't there as fast as he would like. Pineheart and Smokewreath already hold Adderfang down, so he doesn't engage. Two cats are enough for this. Instead he moves between Adderfang and his leader and directs a snarl at Adderfang. If he tries anything else, he would be there to stop him. He grits his teeth as he hears Pikestar wouldn't make it. He's too late, again. Another death he couldn't prevent. He hadn't been particularly close to Pikestar, but he had respected him as his leader. More than anything he's just tired of cats dying around him and that he is unable to do anything against it. If he had just been a little closer or faster, then maybe he could've stopped Adderfang before it was too late. He hears Frostmoth exile Adderfang. Right, now that Pikestar is dead, Frostmoth must be Riverclan's new leader. He makes a good first decision as leader in his opinion. The reason he and Shiveringsong joined the shipyard cats all those moons ago was that they yearned for stability and didn't want to have to move around all the time anymore. With the shipyard cats and now Riverclan he can trust that his clanmates will have his back and won't attack him. Adderfang has broken this trust. Now that he had attacked Pikestar no one could tell when he would attack someone else.

Then something else he would have never expected to happen. Pikestar comes back to life. How is this possible!? He thought Pikestar was dead. The medicine cats said it was too late to help him and they must know it, so how is this possible? Pikestar has indeed a lot to explain when they come back to camp. "Sorry kid, but it's for the best if he leaves." He is silent for a moment before he continues. "Adderfang has proven tonight that he can no longer be trusted. If he would attack Pikestar, what's keeping him from attacking another of our clanmates? And I doubt the next one he attacks will come to life again, if he kills them too." He figures it's probably better if he explains this. Maybe it will help Crescentpaw understand why it's for the best if Adderfang leaves. Then he turns in the direction he assumes Frostmoth is. "Is there anything I can do to help?"[/font]​
what can I say? I'm survivin' 🦇 crawling out these sheets to see another day
  • ooc
     —— addressing @Crescentpaw and @Adderfang

  • my
    shadow's
     the only one that walks beside me my shallow
    heart's
     the only thing that's beating sometimes, I wish
    someone
     out there will find me 'til then I walk
    alone
    ​
    ​
  • Batgloom he/him
    ♡ large, longhaired black tom with white spots on his legs and white freckles, one blind, pale green eye and one missing eye and a scarred pelt
    ♡ Warrior of Riverclan
    ♡ 70 moons; ages on the 23rd of every month
    ♡ speech thought physical interaction attack
    ♡ peaceful and healing powerplay is allowed

    penned by Nightfox​
​
 
all you have is your
FIRE
─〃

'Oh, Dewdrop...thank you. Pikestar rises, untangling from the cold, motionless corpse he'd been moments before with perhaps a bit too jovial a tone for what had just happened, he has half a mind to maul the leader a second time for how easily he is letting this roll off his back like water from a duck's feathers.

Frostmoth speaks the truth but it was not the deputy who stilled his claws but the soft, weakly whimpered sound of 'dad' at his side and he shifted his stance to ensure Juncopaw was behind his body and away from Adderfang-no-Adder. Stripped of a clan name, cast out, it's almost too good for him. He turns, his nose finds the top of Juncopaw's head and he gently nudges her encouragingly closer to Willowburn's side as he steps forward, while not as large a cat as Pineheart he was just as formidable and if the former Life Guard did not take the mercy granted him then Smokewreath would not hesitate to deliver the justice due instead. He didn't like the idea of letting him go, a brother-in-arms once but he had turned into snapping teeth and claws in an instant. Pikestar was a fool, he had agreed with Adder up to that point and he would've gladly taken the punishment of finding a means to deal their own retribution to the cats in the marsh, but slaughtering their leader who until now they weren't entirely sure would come back...
'Thank the stars he did.' The dark tom can not imagine the weight of the clan on Frostmoth's smaller, more inexperienced shoulder's just yet, the young deputy was still finding his footing, still adjusting to the weight of it; leadership would have killed him. Part of Smoke hopes that Frostmoth would not lead for some time, until he was well into his moons and hopefully by then Pikestar didn't send him into a rage spiral everytime the tabby opened his blasted mouth.
The dark tom flexed his claws, raised his shoulders as he waited for Pine to move, "You get a ten second headstart." He growled, he'd not disobey the order to exile, but if he caught him - if Adder didn't put his all into making his exist - well, who was to say what happened away from his deputy and leader's prying eyes.

Ooc- ooc info here.
─ & the place you need to reach.
Smokewreath

— RiverClan Warrior
— He/Him
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— Solid black tom w/vitiligo and one orange eye.
#ff7d46
x
x
x
x
 
—————————————————— Rocked by an endless motion ✦


The birds were upset, and that was the first indication to Galepaw that something was incredibly wrong. He had half a mind to mutter it to Torrent, to begin to make his away from among the crowds of cats—but far too slow, far too late, as the familiar tom rose to his paws. Gale pinned its curled ears back in stress, but all the same he followed.

The commotion roared in his ears, yowling and shrieks filling his large ears as he watched from afar. It was quick, a sudden attack, and the tom had only seen the very edges of it. He wasn't much interested in the action anyway—rather, its eyes stayed glued to the still figure of the leader. It was not long ago breath had escaped his lungs, that thoughts were running through his mind, that his life hadn't leaked out in a million broken streams of blood. Pikestar was dead, and Adderfang had killed him. So it goes.

But... did it? The story was supposed to end here, supposed to end as it did for many, many cats before. As it will for many, many cats after. The rosy rivulets glinted strangely in the light, catching it in a way that felt... wrong. This all felt wrong, and the distant calls of scattered birds only tangled those feelings that something was incorrect deeper in his chest. Even as that kindly seeming apprentice mopped away the blood, it was still wrong. She treated him gently, calmly... as though he had more stories to tell. As though the bird in his chest still flittered, still cawed a song in fear, still fought. She treated him as though he was merely sleeping, but Gale knew he wasn't. He knew he was dead... didn't he?

As sure as the day, his feelings were soon validated. While the commotion around them still raged, while the bloodied assailant was pulled away, Pikestar woke. Only now did the apprentice's heart skip a beat, only now did it begin to race. Pikestar was dead, and then he wasn't. This wasn't how it went, but yet it did. A dead man was now smiling, was now thanking those around him. A dead man shed that title as easily as one were to shed fur... but the birds still cawed, and the blood still pooled. Even as the cats around him seemed to breath a weak sigh of relief, Gale held his breath. Pikestar was living, but was he alive? What had he left behind in those moments beyond the veil?

The tom's eyes traced the bloody wound on his neck, his thoughts nothing but a torrent of questions without satisfying answers. It felt as though something had broken, something had dislodged from the world permanently. The world had suddenly, miraculously, shifted ever so slightly, and Galepaw was the only person who could see it. The world leant at a strange angle, one just slightly off kilter, but it was off kilter all the same. Suddenly, the strange warnings of the birds begun to make sense, the strange way the older tom had always been regarded...

He didn't get to think on this for too long, didn't get to chew it into manageable chunks in his mind. Torrentpaw was on the move, and Galepaw had no mental energy to do anything but follow. He was silent, nothing more than a pale shadow following his companion, but his mind was loud. And it would continue to be loud for the foreseeable future.

—————Whether truth or just a story
It's not up to you—————
  • gale doesnt do much, he's just here to observe
  • Galepaw
    ✦—Riverclan Apprentice | 8 Moons
    ✦—He/They/It
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A fluffy high white lynx point with curled ears and deep blue eyes
    #87878E #BAB2AC
 
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