apotheosis of war [closed]

ooc) set pre january's gathering for conciseness' sake.


The late afternoon sky, a simmering smudge of perturbed drab cloud-cover wreathing against the faintly visible teeth of the barren Highstones, was laden with the lingering weight of a fresh downpour of snow and ice- an uncharacteristic stillness bearing down upon the frigid forest with all the grace of a stalking fox, the continuous threat of teeth weighing upon precious arteries and veins unseen. The freezing air, so bitterly cold that a singular inhale set ones entire nervous system aflame with the unflinching blight of function-ceasing chill, was alight with the faintest hiss of well-held ice clashing against the soft dusting of new frost, a soft ringing just hardly audible above the backdrop of river noise. Somewhere, countless leagues above and residing within the protective, twisting fingers of barren branches, the dark stain of predatory birds resided high and watching; hunched figures casting long shadows upon snow-softened earth, dark figures sprawling and malformed by the illusion of size.

The barren foliage, which once concealed the vulnerable insides of the lands that acted akin to twin mirrors on opposite sides of the riverbanks, did little to conceal the noise of the small patrol that slipped free of the partially-frozen riverwaters, the faint whispers of natural movements dwindled and sorry-sounding under the lingering strain of propping up a blanket of snowfall. The weather would offer nothing bountiful to those misfortunate enough to find themselves out and about during such harsh circumstances, all other living creatures driven well into the safety of their burrows to escape such a profound chill. Steaming riverwater sloughing off the sharp shape of Jaystar in steady rivulets that burnt away the long-standing snows beneath his sodden paws, the dark-furred tom's already skeletal shape was made all the more pronounced under the undeniable strain offered by such a harsh seasonal affect- the pale sunlight catching sharply upon the angular protrusions emerging beneath his unkempt coat. Truth be told, he cared little for the task at paw; if ThunderClan still felt the need to cry murder amidst loss at a conflict they initiated unprovoked, then it was likely little more than the sour workings of a tongue meant to soothe wounded egos. That being said, he would prefer to subject himself to endless fallacies and assumptions during the day, when there was at least some sunlight to keep the worst of the biting chill at bay.

Frosty crown of rapidly freezing riverwater gleaming aghast against the rich contrast of his dark coat, Jaystar easily strode ahead of Perchfall and Scarletriver, leaving behind a trail of partially melted snow and gradually dwindling steam as he pulled himself atop the thinly-iced stones. A careful, cursory glance in the vague direction of a careful collection stones a few tail-lengths away was the only visible indicator of the well-procured irritation already roaring within his blood with enough heat to wash away the worst of the steeping chill.

Perchfall was accustomed to the biting chill of the air she breathed and the wind assaulting her body heat through her fur, but dealing with the freezing temperature after dipping herself in barely-unfrozen water was another thing entirely. Still, her face was blank as she suppressed her chattering teeth, following her leader on his ill-advised trek into ThunderClan territory. A life for a life, two murders supposedly by the other... how can there be a solution to ease the souls of two cats who will never walk these forests again? The quick briefing that Jaystar had given her ran once again through her head, reminding her that they were coming on his terms and that this was to be nothing more than a discussion. For all that he seemed to care, the deputy could have sworn he had no interest in the murders, but it was not her place to say or even to speculate. She also didn't know why Scarletriver had to come-- Perchfall did not have a good opinion of the headstrong young she-cat-- but it was as her leader decided. Even if this proved to start even more conflict that they could not afford. As deputy, it was just her job to support her leader, no matter how foolish she may think this journey was, or how much she longed to curl up in her nest and use the den's shelter to hide from the frosty wind.

Scarletriver could not be less thrilled with this little trip that they were going on.  She could easily guess that she could be a possible subject in the mysterious murder cases that had recently come up.  Which, of course, she knew nothing about.  She wished to flatten her ears to her head in annoyance and snap angry comments at the leader that was forcing her to do this, but, unfortunately, that would probably cause them to be more suspicious of her.  Also, she hated to yell, so it would be more like harshly worded statements if anything.  But she would not cause them to have more suspicion.  So, instead she kept her ears up, stayed quiet, lowered her head ever so slightly in a more submissive stance, and slapped on a convincing concerned and innocent look.

Definitely not helping her already poor state, was the fact that it was too cold for her.  She hated the cold.  She was nearly shivering at this point.  Feeling her bare paws on the cold snowy ground was horrible.  Her eyes were locked on the ground in front of her.  She could see different animal tracks all around and tried to figure out what they were, to take her mind off of things.  It did not really work.  Her fear of what was to come and worst-case scenarios ran through her head.  Her eyes flicked up at Perchfall, who she did not know well.  The deputy seemed nice enough, but she did not know enough about her to say whether or not she could be trusted to not go against Scarletriver.  Her eyes briefly then switched to Jaystar and she wondered what was going on in the leader's mind.  Then, her eyes settled on the ground again, trying to stop her fears once again.

A quiet simmer lay under Minkstar's pelt, a fire that burned lowly in his eyes as he made his silent way through trees that had become more familiar than the reeds on the other side of the river. Stars, I hate this. The shapes of furred forms appeared through the foliage ahead, waiting. He deliberately refused to look away from them at the bloodstained scene of battle that had been fought not so long ago.

"Jaystar." The name came off his tongue with a brittle air, his eyes and face carefully blank and emotionless. He didn't bother to dip his head in respect - they were both irritated and neither cared foxdung about the other, so why pretend with pointless gestures? "Let's get this over with, shall we? Hopefully it's worth your delay."

Stoatfur followed after his leader, eyes narrowed as he regarded Riverclan's leadership. They weren't much to look at, and oh, how he wished to tear into the black tom's maw once more. He settled back on his haunches, wishing for the conversation to be over as quickly as it had begun. Trading blows over sunningrocks had proven to be a fruitless effort, as did every interaction with a Riverclan cat.

ooc;; stoat is here i am tired speed post go nyoom