The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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Subject: hallowed eyes [c] Tue 23 Jan 2024 - 11:48
Numbing cold seeped into the tom's paws. There was hardly any sensation in the cracked pads, that had begun to leave specks of scarlet on the snow-ladden snow in their wake. Littlepaw had spent most of his life cooped up in the makeshift, lake-side camp. His paws hadn't harden to such demanding travel; he'd hardly even crossed the territory once. Pure exhaustion had seeped into every fiber of his fur. Littlepaw's steps were matched with shallow and labored breathing. He had yet to fully shake himself from the stupor that had been spurred on by witnessing Egretswoop's death. It played on a loop, the river of red, her limp frame... and then there was Cindersky. Gnashing sharp fangs and rancid breath were so vibrant in his conscious, the medicine cat could swear it was still happening.
As he bumped softly into Rookflight's white and black coat, the soft scent of Egretswoop, mixed with herbs seemed to bring him back to reality. Littlepaw blinked and stopped suddenly. His hallow gaze turned to look over the pelts of Cindersky and Larkspring. There hadn't been time to stop so far. The faraway pounding of his heart urged him to keep going, to flee from the danger surely nipping st their heels. But the blood-chilling howls and nightmarish clatter of oversized teeth had long-since faded. Now, the ragged group of traveling Riverclan cats scaled an icy slope. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Littlepaw realized they were traveling through the mountains that had loomed just over the horizon. This distant guardian of the lake was now a very real and perilous hurdle.
The moon caused the peaks to shimmer as light caught in the tiny shards of ice dotting the surface. Had this been a pleasant journey, he would have stopped to appreciate the sight, but they had been traveling for a day's time without stopping and a new level of exhaustion had set in his bones. Now, Littlepaw's eyes settled on a rock that jutted from the mountain's edge, creating a sheltered area where snow had piled on either side. He blinked again as he realized why his eyes had fixated on that spot, "We need to stop. I need to help her..." The words were impossibly small, whispered to Rookflight through a crackling throat. Littlepaw was parched but even gulping back a mouthful of snow seemed like an impossible task. His staggering pawsteps carried him stiffly to the overhang, where he fell back into a sitting position, glossy eyes staring down at the smooth stone.
downfive Former Staff
Characters : [R]owansong [Ro]okflight [S]ilverhawk [P]igeonpouce [F]ish [T]wilightkit Clan/Rank : [R] RiverClan T5 Elder [Ro] RiverClan T4 Warrior [S] ShadowClan T3 Warrior [P] T2 RiverClan Warrior [F] T2 Rogue [T] RiverClan Kit Number of posts : 2503 Gender : any or username Age : 22
Stubborn it was that Rookflight's trembling legs carried them through the snow, guided only by the bodies beside them. The air felt colder, thinner, already now, even though RiverClan's scattered numbers had yet to climb high up the slope. Rookflight could feel the progressively-easing hitch in their lungs beginning to worsen. It was painful, like swallowing a pawful of burrs with every breath. Though... it was hard to tell whether the rasp was the reaggravation of illness, or if it was just residue from the terror they were now too exhausted to feel.
Rookflight hadn't taken their eyes off the mess of red and frayed ends made of Cindersky's hind. They followed the sight of butchery like a shepherd. The weight of Littlepaw's herb bundle swaying against their chest moved in rhythm with Cindersky rocking atop Larkspring. In their urgency to escape, the necessity to continue even after the howling relented, there'd been no time to stop. Not to tend her more than passingly. Not even to clean her. Foul-tasting bile rose up in Rookflight's throat, startlingly hot against the cold air they drank in. A wave of guilt crashed through the numbness that'd settled.
Before the feeling could morph into true wretchedness, Littlepaw jostled his side. The touch was soft and small, but the contact felt immense to Rookflight. Heat threatened his tongue again when Egretswoop's faint scent stirred from the hare pelt, but he swallowed it back down. His pinned ears lifted to catch the wind-snatched words. Rookflight looked toward the alcove Littlepaw's attention lingered on and his whiskers twitched once. Clearing his throat, Rookflight forced his scratching voice to rise around the pelt. "Littlepaw has spotted shelter. We have to stop now."
With the medicine cat's message passed along--and he already stumbling bloodily through the snow to sweep under the rock--Rookflight followed suit after a brief pause to linger at Larkspring's side. He had to see if Cindersky was still breathing (which she was), and to press his nose to his brother's neck and breathe in his reassuring, alive scent before advancing. When he reached Littlepaw, Rookflight brushed any dusted-in snow away with his tail before setting the hare-bound herbs down with as much care as possible. He ached to collapse, to lie on the cold stone for days, but he forced himself to remain upright--and to speak more. "If you need any help," Rookflight said, thick and rasping, "I will give it so long as you give me the directive. Otherwise... I will give you your space." He looked to Larkspring and Cindersky as they approached. He didn't want to be any farther than reaching distance from her while Littlepaw worked, but Rookflight had the feeling he'd only be in the way. Littlepaw needed the room to work.
Larkspring’s main focus as they escaped the wolves was just to keep moving. He kept up a good pace and he ignored everything: the way that Cindersky’s blood dried in a sticky mess in his fur, or he numbness in his paws, or the aching scream of his muscles with every passing step. He only stopped when Rookflight moved to him and spoke, and it was his brother’s voice that drew Larkspring out of his focused stupor. He looked at Rookflight, then to Littlepaw and finally to the alcove that was pointed out to him. His stomach churned and despite being empty, he felt as though he was going to dispose of every last bit left in his stomach. The weight of Cindersky on his back suddenly felt very heavy, and he wondered how cold she felt atop his back.
He managed a stiff, mechanical nod and followed behind Rookflight and Littlepaw at a slower pace. They entered the sparse shelter where the snow did not quite reach. The stone still felt cold, but at least it would not seem into every crevice of Cindersky’s fur. Larkspring carefully lowered down and slipped Cindersky off his back, taking care to be as gentle and slow as he could to not disturb her. When he turned back and finally got a look at Cindersky, he almost lost his balance and fell to the floor entirely, if not for Rookflight at his side to keep him upright.
Cindersky’s beautiful tail was gone, replaced with a bloody stump that looked horrific and mangled. She still breathed, but at the quickest of glances, she looked like a corpse. The nausea increased until he could not stand it any longer. He managed to step away from their shelter to throw up in the snow outside instead. His throat burned with acidity and he heaved labored breaths. He didn’t want to go back in while Littlepaw attended to her wound. He didn’t want to see her imagined corpse or think about what would have happened if the wolf had bitten a little higher up than her tail.
Characters : [C]indersky, [W]olfpaw Clan/Rank : RiverClan, T3 Warrior| ShadowClan, Apprentice Number of posts : 330 Gender : They/She Age : 20
Subject: Re: hallowed eyes [c] Sat 27 Jan 2024 - 15:57
cindersky
t2 warrior | riverclan
When feeling started to return to her, Cindersky did not know. Sensations came first before thought. Coldness first, her back frozen but her stomach felt warm. She could not feel the tips of her toes, and her nose seemed achey with frost. Her hearing came back then, slowly, like a rain drop dribbling down the edge of a tree. At first, all she could see was shapes. Three-- Two? Two cats? Small, larger. She could not smell, her nose felt clogged. Her throat felt hopelessly dry and even an intake of breath was met with a wheeze.
Her hearing began to return then. A low, tinnish whine. Voices within. So many voices that swirled around her head until it became two. Soft, softer. She knew those voices, but her thoughts would not wrap around who they belonged to. Not yet. Her vision, pinpricks of black, began to gain colour then. White, gray. Red. Her breath stuttered, and a flash of the white mound of fur collapsed onto the ground was her first thought. She could've sworn she saw that small, sad face again. Littlepaw? She opened her mouth, she wanted to call out. Why was Littlepaw so far away? Hadn't they been together not mere moments before? She had picked him up, turned him toward Larkspring. They were okay, she was protecting him. She had turned and--
Blackness. And then sensation returned not mere moments after-- minutes to others, a blink to her. Sensation, and she seemed to be moving. Downward, she hit something. Softly, gently. A presence left-- Who was it? She did not notice them until they were gone. Her vision returned, faster this time. Sparkling white and gray. Stars? Was that stars, was she dead-- And then Littlepaw. Did he not make it either? Oh, StarClan forbid, had she failed them both, left Rookflight and Larkspring and failed Littlepaw all because she was cursed to always be too late?
But she wasn't dead. She knew this, because all she could feel was pain. Every inch of her body, and it seemed to radiate from her tail. She couldn't move it. Why couldn't she move it? It felt like it was throbbing. She tried to move, get her paws under her, but all she could manage was a slide of her pad against the stone-- she was on a stone?--, and it slid right back out from underneath her again. Her breathing came quicker then, she wasn't sure she was even breathing at all it felt like she wasn't. Blackness, coming in. Her vision was darkening, not again. Littlepaw, found and her eyes jolted to the side. Black fur, a piece of white? Larkspring? Rookflight? She couldn't tell. Why couldn't she tell? She couldn't think, not properly. Every rapid breath felt like flame and why could her tail only feel pain?
A haze seemed to blur the world around him, no matter how hard he tried to focus. As blood pumped slowly though his ears, the medicine cat became painfully aware of his own rapid heartbeat along with the tightening of his chest. Littlepaw was just barely able to decipher Rookflight's words. He thought to nod his head but the motion never came. Words were sand on his tongue. Every moment that he was frozen in place, numb, the young tom's mind throbbed. Cindersky needed his help. The clan was relying on him. This was what Starclan had called him for, and yet, here he was with his paws like ice on the stone.
"O-okay." He breathed to no one in particular. The sound of his own voice was foreign and shaky. The setting sunlight was overwhelmingly bright. Glancing over to the horizon, the grey and white furred tom's vision blurred. Blinking slowly, furiously, he realized that on the back of his eyelids, stars had become imprinted there. The ones that were hidden behind the fading daylight. Another uncertain breath and he stood on trembling paws, "We... have to clean the wound. Fresh snow." That seem right, a good place to start.
I've got this. I am hope. He tried to repeat the sentiment in his head, like fuel to an imaginary fire. While the numbness didn't subside and his paws quivered, Littlepaw nosed open the pelt and sought out poppy seeds. His gaze settled on Cindersky's stirring form. The thought of her being conscious with such outstanding pain made tears well up in his eyes. She didn't deserve this pain. Clutching the pawful of precious seeds, he hobbled forward and dipped his head, "Eat these... it'll help." Parting her maw with the most ginger pads, he placed the tiny seeds on her tongue. A pawful of snow would help, right? Scooping up the tender flakes, he offered them to the warrior, while waiting for the wound to be cleaned, his eyes shining with concern.
downfive Former Staff
Characters : [R]owansong [Ro]okflight [S]ilverhawk [P]igeonpouce [F]ish [T]wilightkit Clan/Rank : [R] RiverClan T5 Elder [Ro] RiverClan T4 Warrior [S] ShadowClan T3 Warrior [P] T2 RiverClan Warrior [F] T2 Rogue [T] RiverClan Kit Number of posts : 2503 Gender : any or username Age : 22
Rookflight couldn't contain their grimace, watching as Cindersky was settled onto the ground. Though they'd been staring at the bloodied remains for hours now, the brown-drying red suddenly looked starker, more visceral. Against a backdrop of stone, no longer being jostled by the shuffle of Larkspring's paws, she really did pass as a corpse. Their own dizziness was expressed in the feeling of Larkspring wobbling beside him; then, very quickly, just out of sight. Rookflight turned, selfishly grateful for an excuse to look away from Cindersky, and watched him go. Their ears flattened at the sounds of retching, stomach curdling in sympathy. They let their heavy, woeful eyes linger on his shadow for a moment longer before turning back.
Littlepaw's shaking voice did not register at first, muted by the sound of claws scrabbling against stone. Rookflight's muscles tensed at watching Cindersky's struggle, unable to imagine what agony she might feel or what he could possibly do to ease her suffering. But--there was something. He didn't need to invent something. Rookflight's flattened ears twitched in lagging registration of Littlepaw's instruction. "Alright," he murmured, wavering unsteadily on his paws. Before he moved anywhere else, Rookflight crept up around Cindersky's side. A forepaw stretched out, wanting to rest briefly on her shoulder, before he thought better of the risk of startling her and retracted. Even without the emphasis of contact, "Rest," Rookflight softly begged, "Do not fight." Then they stepped back to move just a few pawsteps out of the shelter.
Larkspring wasn't hard to spot: he hadn't gone far, and his dark pelt was piercing against the snow, and the sour air turned Rookflight's nose immediately toward him. They were quiet for a moment, rebalancing, before they said: "Eat the fresher snow. It will help your throat." They didn't know where the advice came from. It didn't matter, now. "I am going to help clean her wounds before Littlepaw begins to work. You could help to push some of the snow inside. But..." Sighing again, Rookflight dragged their gaze between their brother and the scene in the shadow of the overhang. They were quiet for several heartbeats, watching Littlepaw fold what might've been poppy seeds into Cindersky's mouth until they remembered this was a situation of urgency. There wasn't time for their usual dwellings, nor to comfort any wounds other than those potentially life-threatening. "You do not have to." They finished eventually, then retreated back under the stone, stooping to shovel snow in with their muzzle on the way.
It was frigid against their nose, and even colder against their pads when Rookflight pushed the snow closer still to Cindersky's body. Some of the flakes melted on their paws, and their throat lurched as if there was precious supply to waste. Shaking their head out, they looked down--swayed, for a bit, trying to take in the damage up close--then forced themself to press a pawful of the soft freezing powder to the ruined ends of her tail. If Cindersky, whose anxiety all but preceded her, had been brave enough to jump into the mouth of a wolf, then they could stomach this. There was something sickly soothing to the rhythm set by working clean snow into her fur, smoothing the blood and gristle away under his paws until the exposed flesh, tendons, and bones were clearer. Rookflight almost wished they'd left her filthy, so there was nothing defining to look at; just the mess of undefinable gore. Hurriedly, they swallowed down the rising bile before they could be forced to join Larkspring and took a step back, nodding entreatingly toward Littlepaw.
Characters : [P]oppyshine; [Pi]neblossom; [W]hisperear; [C]rookedlight; [L]arkspring; [Wi]llowwisp Clan/Rank : RC T5 Deputy; SC T5; WC T5; SkC T5; RC T4; RC T4 Number of posts : 2969 Gender : Any Pronouns Age : 25
Subject: Re: hallowed eyes [c] Sat 10 Feb 2024 - 11:44
Larkspring
Larkspring took another minute to breathe heavily. He heard Rookflight and Littlepaw talking, but it was muffled behind the buzzing in his ears as he fought the feeling of faintness. He has seen blood and viscera before; it was what was needed to be a warrior, after all. But such a horrible wound on a cat, he has never seen. Especially on someone he would call a friend. He felt useless right now, but he didn’t want to be. He wanted to help. Larkspring took another breath and tried to force that dizziness away.
He turned back and shakily returned to the alcove. Rookflight was helping Littlepaw and they already looked crowded with just two sets of paws, so Larkspring instead rounded the group and settled near Cindersky’s face. Cindersky’s eyes fluttered open and Larkspring couldn’t tell if she could actually see them. His chest ached. He settled down and gently laid his chin on top of her head, hoping that whatever consciousness she had could be comforted by a touch not bothering her wound.
![hallowed eyes [c] 8ix01Gk](https://i.imgur.com/8ix01Gk.png)