{$title} semi-graphic descriptions of gore and death throughout this thread
DUSKPOOL
The walk was damn near silent considerin' the events that'd taken place just minutes from now. His hated the look in her eyes. The all too familiar numbness, like yer there, but a part of yer soul is nowhere to be seen. He'd lost too much of his soul to consider himself a heroic bastard, but an empty husk.
He ain't ever wanted her to go down the same path he'd been walkin' since ancient times. He might not regret killin' the bastards that harmed his kids, but Duskpool had been long tainted. For his claws had been stained by the lifeblood of others. But that was his sins to carry, not Flowercloud. Stars. Not his little sister. Those she trusted had wrought her dry.
Why call himself her brother if he ain't able to protect her? From the madness. The bitterness that came with it. The paws stained ichor. He heaved a tired sigh, makin' his way to Flowercloud's side, pelts brushin' against each other, makin' his skin prickle with unease at the sight of her amber fur stained crimson.
He ain't to sure he agrees with Hawkstar at this point. Not the blood stainin' their fur. Somethin' felt wrong about the eerie sight. As if Rosebelly was the enemy and not their clanmate. His scarred lips tugged into a frown, wooly plumage sweepin' the ground in a low, lazy sweep. "Kiddo." He rasped softly.
In the end of things, Duskpool would be her sword. If it came to battle, then he'll gladly stain his paws than let her deal with the fallout of what came after the storm. The deadly silence. The realization. Duskpool might not regret Chi or Kyungmin's death, but they'd been rotten bastards, foxhearts in the highest possible way. Abusive and dirty folk that ain't got a right to live. "I ain't sayin' ya gotta stop, but kiddo, ya gotta think about this." He rumbled to the amber-furred molly.
"I want revenege more than anyone, ya know this, but these folk are like us. They ain't aware of the code, or anythin' that makes us a clan, but if this ends in war, do ya really think it's worth the blood bein' spilt?" He uttered lowly, brows furrowed. "But it ain't matter what I think I suppose. Nothin' but an old tom nowadays." He remarked sourly, scarred helm shakin' lazily. "I'm with ya till the end, kiddo. Just take a deep breath and think if this is what ya really want." He ended with a low, guttural rumble.
He ain't ever wanted her to go down the same path he'd been walkin' since ancient times. He might not regret killin' the bastards that harmed his kids, but Duskpool had been long tainted. For his claws had been stained by the lifeblood of others. But that was his sins to carry, not Flowercloud. Stars. Not his little sister. Those she trusted had wrought her dry.
Why call himself her brother if he ain't able to protect her? From the madness. The bitterness that came with it. The paws stained ichor. He heaved a tired sigh, makin' his way to Flowercloud's side, pelts brushin' against each other, makin' his skin prickle with unease at the sight of her amber fur stained crimson.
He ain't to sure he agrees with Hawkstar at this point. Not the blood stainin' their fur. Somethin' felt wrong about the eerie sight. As if Rosebelly was the enemy and not their clanmate. His scarred lips tugged into a frown, wooly plumage sweepin' the ground in a low, lazy sweep. "Kiddo." He rasped softly.
In the end of things, Duskpool would be her sword. If it came to battle, then he'll gladly stain his paws than let her deal with the fallout of what came after the storm. The deadly silence. The realization. Duskpool might not regret Chi or Kyungmin's death, but they'd been rotten bastards, foxhearts in the highest possible way. Abusive and dirty folk that ain't got a right to live. "I ain't sayin' ya gotta stop, but kiddo, ya gotta think about this." He rumbled to the amber-furred molly.
we're only haunted by the things we refuse to accept
-
DUSKPOOL he/him a storm carved in flesh and smoke, duskpool towers with the bulk of a maine coon and norwegin forest cat. his wooly black pelt bristles with ghost-stripes and scarsโold wounds etched like lightning through dusk. one copper eye burns like molten steel and the other a mangled ruin of war. every step is heavy, thunderousโwar-born, death-burdened, and unflinchingly alive.
แฏโ senior warrior of skyclan (sun guard during coffeestar's reign)
แฏโ brother to outlawbite & thistlestrike, half-brother to flowercloud
แฏโ eighty-three moons; ages on the 1st of every month
แฏโ speech thought action
แฏโ peaceful/healing powerplay permitted -
