Don't Strike Twice [ThunderClan Sitewide Topic - OPEN]

"Take care of us? Thunderclan is doing just fine!" Quaildock hissed at the cat wearing a pelt. Sure he looked kind but it could be an illusion! These 'cats' couldn't be trusted. His ears perked when he heard yowling and saw Nettlestar and Minkstream rushing in. His widened in horror as he saw Dustcloud fall to the ground limply.

Did she just die?

Is Nettlestar going to die?



As so many thoughts ran through Quaildock's mind, the sound of Nettlestar's voice filled his ears. Surrender. He was fine with it, as long as his father was okay. Was he okay? Should he go check? He should go check. But his body was stopping Quaildock from doing so.

Shrikesong woke up to paws at her chest. Hissing at the cat who was on her - wait, was that a cat or a fox? Whatever it was, it was pinning her down, and the brown she-cat couldn’t get out. ”Who are you?” she yowled, the normally kind she-cat burning with anger. ”Let me go!” Where was Nettlestar? Focusing on the ThunderClan leader’s voice, Shrikesong thought that the she-cat was coughing, before telling the clan to... surrender. They must have lost the fight against the cat-foxes (who must be intelligent enough to understand what surrender meant). And I didn’t get up early enough to help them fight off this threat.

The medicine watched, still frozen as her sister leapt out, as she did what the stronger, braver version of Daisybloom would have done. She watched in horror as the cunning rouge tricked Nettlestar, and gasped, letting out a strangled sob as they both collapsed. Her eyes welled up with tears. In front of her were her two remaining family members, both dead, or at least, close to it. The rare emotion of anger filled her, and she had to hold herself back from attacking Eris. But they were trapped. If she struck out, she would be endangering Dustcloud and Nettlestar. Even though she had known that it would happen, it was relieving to see the leader come back to life. She exhaled softly, although she was still bursting with emotion. Not even a split-second after the she-cat gave her orders, she followed, running up towards the elder and examining her. There were quite a few gaping wounds, and they were still bleeding. "Cobwebs, p-please! Just g-grab some herbs!" she cried out, her voice raspy from the held in sobs, stuttering from shock and fear. For now, she licked the wounds, letting the coppery taste rush into her mouth. She wanted to scream, to curse out Eris, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t risk it. And although she hated to think of it that way, they were apart of the Asylum now. "Mangy foxheart." she muttered under her breath, so quiet that she couldn’t even hear it over the pounding of her head. But she needed to stay focused. This was a critical heal, and if she failed...

Blood rushed into her mouth, roared in her ears, her head pounding, bursting with all of the things she wanted to say. She blocked out the world, waiting for someone to fetch her some herbs. It was starting to work, but she wasn’t sure if it would be enough. In Daisybloom’s mind, one thing was clear. Even though Nettlestar had created these wounds, it was all Eris’s fault. All of the Asylum’s fault

At the sound of a fight Dovepaw had jumped to his feet rushing out of the den, only to freeze at the sight before him. Surrounded.. Blood.. Dustcloud looked like she was barely clinging to life on the ground of the camp.. Anger was bubbling inside of him against these unknown cats that stood inside his camp but he didn't dare raise a paw against them for fear that more cats who would end up in danger like Dustcloud. If she could fall so easily... who is to say the rest wouldn't fall just the same? He stood back towards the edge of the camp, his large form looking even larger due to his white fur being fluffed up in anger and fear.

Surrender, Batbite thought as Nettlestar commanded her Clan. Even unspoken, the word was sour on her tongue - she didn't like the idea of surrender, didn't like the feeling of being at the whims and mercy of these cats - and yet, if they didn't surrender, they'd already attacked Dustcloud, taken down Nettlestar once, and piled themselves on her mate - though, more important at the moment was his position as ThunderClan's deputy; they'd proven themselves able to leave the Clan leaderless and powerless.

She would listen, would stay silent and complacent as she was taken a prisoner in her own camp - for now; she reminded herself mentally, it wasn't a forever sort of solution - but no one could tell her she had to be happy about it. Well, they could perhaps try, but if they tried to dictate her feelings as much as they were trying to dictate their lives, she supposed she'd have better luck in death anyway.

(Not that she could abandon Minkstream or her kits like that. Stars, when had she gotten so... Soft and sentimental? Was that feeling always there?)

"Surrender," Batbite murmured, half to express the sentiment and half to taste the word again - she found it was just as sour as when she left it unsaid.

From her place against the dirt, the fur on her cheeks on the verge of getting into her eyes, Thrushnose couldn’t see the events transpiring in the center of camp. Just as well; her keen senses told her more than she wanted to know. A screech. A flash of silver. The horrible sounds of claws rending flesh, and gurgling, and in the silence that followed, the same icy voice that had spoken first, its threats no longer veiled. Hot, thick blood-scent crept into the air. Badgerpaw, Nettlestar, even Dustcloud, it could belong to any of them.

At last, Nettlestar’s voice returned. “We surrender.”

Thrushnose had never heard her mentor sound weak before.

A prickling began at the backs of her eyes. With a faint, frustrated growl that she prayed was only audible to the creature holding her down, she squeezed them shut. Her control over herself was the only control she had, now; she couldn’t afford to let it go. Couldn’t let herself be any more helpless than she already was. ThunderClan had fallen mere tail-lengths away from her, and throughout it all, she’d been unable to so much as bare her fangs to stop it.

Mossbloom had been pinned in the back of the medicine den, unable to hear or figure out what was going on. She had been jolted awake by sharp claws on her paw, piercing her thinning skin to bring small marks of blood. Perhaps it was the realization that she was one of the older cats of ThunderClan, or perhaps it was StarClan's protection that lead the pressure to immediately lift, and Mossbloom wasted no time in escaping the darkness of the den and bursting through the ferns into the dim morning light. The sight that greeted her told her that she was already far too late. Dustcloud lay, broken, bleeding, and Mossbloom growled uncharacteristically. Nettlestar too was injured, no, she was losing a life. The medicine cat had seen the event enough times to know exactly what was happening. Blood was on the leader's paws, and on the maw of one of these strange cats. However, not a scratch could be seen on her... Realization struck Mossbloom, and her eyes widened in horror as she gasped. There was no time to waste, and as she turned to run back into the medicine den she ran into the figure that had pinned her. Glaring at the cat, she snarled, "Move your mange-ridden tail." Shoving her way past them, she disappeared into the medicine den and reappeared moments later, laden with all the cobwebs and moss she could grab.

Moving as quickly as she could to Daisybloom's side, she handed her the moss bundles first, focusing on Dustcloud. "StarClan will heal Nettlestar's wound, at least to a point it's not critical. Moss will slow and stop the bleeding faster, then we can bind with cobwebs once the bleeding has stopped. No risk of infection quite yet, so we need to focus on stopping the bleeding. We can do this." She mewed breathlessly, for her own sake as well as Daisybloom's. Please, StarClan, let her be right. Pressing moss into the deep wounds that lacerated Dustcloud's figure, the moss was rapidly stained red, and her white paws were becoming stained as well. There wasn't enough. Turning to look up at the cat that loomed over Nettlestar, she hissed under her breath as she stood to run back into the den. Dismantling her nest, and some of the other unused ones, she ran back out to continue trying to ebb the flow of blood from Dustcloud's form.

Dalsybloom was glad for Mossbloom’s presence beside her. The older medicine cat had more experience with these matters, and could help. She listened intently, praying that this would work. She was no longer frozen in fear, but bursting into action. she started to press moss into the wounds, a tear running down her face. She sniffed, trying to stay calm. She silently sobbed, lashing her tail with emotion. There was so much blood, so many wounds. Her light paws were growing red, and the smell was overwhelming. There was no rhythm as she pressed the material onto the elder, but a frantic scrambling. It was working, but she wasn’t sure if it had been enough. So much blood had been lost. Dustcloud’s pelt was strewn with blood. She watched with dismay as the moss turned red, easily being soaked. It seemed as though even if they had all the moss in the world, it wouldn’t be enough. Layers upon layers, she pressed into the tabbied fur.


Griffon nodded at Casper. He was confused on how this clan didn’t understand. He watched as the cat that was their leader roar out, and lunged toward Eris. She couldn’t do that! And the elder...she was hurt. The leader was killed instantly, and he let out an audible gasp. He knew that they were ready to do anything, but he hadn’t expected it to be like that. But Nettlestar began to rose. "How-" he whispered, watching the scene play out. He had heard myths of nine lives, but he hadn’t believed it. A cat had one life, that was how it worked. Two cats, healers of some sort rushed towards the elder, and he watched in amazement as they worked, pressing moss into her pelt. But the realization started to set in. Eris had caused those wounds. The elder was old, moons and moons older than him, older than most cats he knew. That wasn’t quite fair. It wasn’t her fault that these cats weren’t listening. But then again, they needed to be. They would understand, even if it took time. They had surrendered, and joined the Asylum. Now they were one big family.

The strong scent of blood was what finally woke Buzzardpaw up.

His eye flashed open and a feeling of panic rose in his chest as he realized that the feeling of being pinned down in his dream was actually happening. His panic increased as he registered the sound of muffled voices somewhere outside, but couldn't place them or make out anything they were saying. He was fully aware now that his good ear was facing downward towards his nest and that meant he had no way of really discerning what was happening outside, where the blood was coming from or why, and why he was being held down. His eye-- and thankfully it was at least his good eye that was facing upward-- darted around in a vain attempt to figure out what was going on. It told him nothing other than that he wasn't the only one being held to the ground, and that was not a very reassuring piece of information. He began turning his little front legs in small, useless circles, not in an attempt to resist so much as an expression of his intense panic.

"P-please," he choked out, not really sure whether he was addressing the one pinning him or just making some kind of general plea. His voice, which was usually lacking in much discernable emotion, was audibly distressed. "I can't hear well. I don't know what's happening..."

Cheville didn’t like that she had to pin these cats down, but if that’s what she had to do, she would do it. Gaze searching for a weaker cat to pin down so she wouldn't get into a scuffle, the small brown fluffy tabby pounced onto a russet-coloured cat, surprisingly smaller than herself. "Huh. You're young aren't you? Don't worry, I won't fight you if you don't struggle." Cheville sent a rather emotionless smile towards the younger cat. I don't have to reassure her. I just have to calm her enough so this is over with.

Cricketkit hadn't fallen asleep yet, his mind was wandering, thoughts running rampant with no regard for how tired he would be in the morning. In one daydream, he was chasing mice with bird wings, and in another, he was actually an apprentice! He began to envision a possible mentor when cries began to ring out in the camp. Fur sticking up on end, Cricketkit sat upright, ears tilted back and pupils blown wide. He glanced behind him, instinctively looking for his mother, and remembered her leaving a while ago. She'd said she wouldn't be gone long, just that she was going on a walk but...had she been gone long?

Cricketkit couldn't even tell if his mother had been gone for a few minutes or for much longer. His imagination had run away with him, making a long stretch of time feel like only moments. He pressed against the edge of the den, hiding in the shadows as strange animals flooded into the den. He ducked around several sets of paws and fled from the nursery, gaze wildly flicking to and fro in search of his mother. He couldn't find her anywhere and with the odd animals...cats perhaps, in the camp?

Cricketkit began to tremble slightly and tucked himself away in a small corner. Tail curled defensively around himself and tiny claws unsheathed, Cricketkit watched the chaos unfold. He scanned the camp for any familiar faces, but his gaze always landed on the creatures with animal pelts across their backs. What was happening? Why were these strange animals in Thunderclan's camp? Was it another clan? He spotted Dappleleaf maneuver across the camp and almost abandoned his hiding place. Before he could make a break for it, one of the larger animals passed by and he lurched back, heart pounding in his chest. Luckily, angered yowls covered up most of the noise and Cricketkit resigned himself to remaining hidden in the shadows.

"I'm almost a warrior" Kitepaw hissed indignantly into the face of the cat pinning her down. She didn't struggle much, mostly twisted her head to seek out the other cats in the den. Distress welled up in her chest as she heard Buzzardpaw's protesting voice. Despite the desire to claw at her attacker, the russet apprentice resisted. Instead she sought to plead with Cheville, "Let me up. I just need to check on my brother. I won't do anything." The muffled words outside the den hardly reached her, nor word of surrender. But most cats weren't fighting back nor where the invaders specifically attacking. If she could make sure Buzzardpaw was okay for now, that would be enough. As she waited for a response, her tail tip flickered anxiously.

Cheville let out a cold, slightly mocking laugh. "I like you, little almost-warrior. That's the only reason I'm going to let you go...however, you can't be a warrior until you've had scars, can you?" Releasing the younger she-cat with a small smile, the Asylum scout unsheathed her claws and nicked the tip of the apprentice's left ear. "Go check on your littermate. I'll give you ten seconds." Cheville silently started counting on her head, her heart a tiny bit gentler as she spotted the she cat checking on her brother.

Ferretnose yowled in protest as she was jostled out of the elders' den, surrounded by creatures in horrifying patch-work suits of fur and claws and teeth. She wretched at the sight of them, seeking out a group of kits that she might be able to defend with what little strength she had. She tried in vain to quiet the whimpering of the toddling kittens, while doing her own head count of the elders' den. There was one missing from the collection.

She turned just in time to see Nettlestar's claws connect with Dustcloud's throat. Hackles raised to the heavens, Ferretnose shoved against the wall of Asylum cats with all of her might. "NO!" she shrieked. "NOT HER! NOT HER! DON'T!"

The duty of an elder was to stay by the clan's side, to honor its story and the clanmates inside. An elder weathered every storm until they could not bear it anymore. Ferretnose knew her duty well enough to not fight the invaders. Even if her claws itched to strike out, she knew she could not overpower a cat as large as her son wearing the flesh of a fox. It was simply impossible. The sickening sensation in her belly was unmatched by any emotion she had ever felt in her life, besides the awful feeling of her apprentice's claws detaching from her pelt, leaving her to drown in the river. This was a kind of ache that could only come with eons of tradition, homeland, and pride coming to a swift and inhumane end right before one's eyes.

There was no telling if Mossbloom and Daisybloom's hasty medicine work would make any difference in saving Dustcloud's life. But the clan's throat had been slit from the moment that cream tortoiseshell placed her paw on the elder's head.

Was there even a ThunderClan to honor anymore?

---

Beecloud was barely awake when he was slammed to the ground in a cruel lock on the back of his scruff. He gasped, blurry eyes hunting desperately for a better look at the invaders. Invaders. What do you do with invaders? Fight, yes, yes, fight! Get up!

But no warrior raised a battle cry. There was hardly a whimper. Something very wrong was dangling upside-down in the air, and the warrior sensed the growing terror in the crowd. It could be sliced like a berry with one single clawstroke, with the thickness of the feeling. Beecloud was good with feelings that way. There was a voice that stood out among a sea of pelted cats, who he identified as the beasts from WindClan... though, if he was honest, he thought they were legend. If they were real, and they were here, and they called themselves the Asylum, then that meant they were the intruders that woke ThunderClan in the night. Following the sound of the voice, he found the reason why no clanmate caterwauled a viscous call to arms. Under an enormous paw, one that was a considerable rival to his own—stars, maybe bigger!—was Dustcloud.

"Sablepaw, don't you move a muscle!" he shouted over the violence to his apprentice, with a frantic quality to the strict mentor-voice he tried to summon. She was bundling up her haunches, ready to launch. He prayed she wouldn't.

Too much was happening at once. He couldn't think straight. He saw Nettlestar make a dive at the huge she-cat, and he saw it as an opportunity. One Asylum cat alone could not dream to hold Beecloud down, and he twisted, ready to throw the beast-pelted creature into the sedge behind him and rescue Dustcloud from her clutches.

The opportunity never came; instead, Nettlestar's claws made contact with her mother's throat. A trick. Their leader had fallen right into it. Beecloud felt a ripping sensation in his chest, and his head landed back on the sandy ground. Shell-shocked was he, and even more so by the agonized shriek of his mother behind him, crying out for her friend. It barely made a pang in his weakened spirit to hear Nettlestar feebly surrender to their captors. "No," he whispered. "Don't do this."

But the word of a ThunderClan warrior meant nothing anymore. The Asylum's rule had begun.

Since OneKit was asleep and had part hearing loss he just now realized the asylum cats were attacking the clan



Occ :Sorry if it’s to late I mean it’s been 3 days since anyone has posted here