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Post by Kibbles on Sept 28, 2015 22:03:24 GMT
Birchtail half carried and half dragged the body back into the camp. He huffed tiredly as he set her gently on the ground before sitting beside her. His wounds were really hurting now. He has several claw marks along him and blood dripped to the ground, some was his and some was Patchpaw's. He looked around, waiting to see if Raven was around. Or even Starlingfur. He wondered how they would explain this to his mate anyways. He already knew she wouldn't be happy.
His green eyes wondered over to look at his aunt, who looked numb. He could see that her golden eye was still wide and her tail was dragging the ground as she wondered into the camp. She had been the only one unharmed in the fight, as she hadn't been attacked and the fight stopped, literally, right after she joined in. He wondered what had happened. Had she been there before Patchpaw's throat was ripped out? Or did she come in afterwards? Now was not the time to ask, though.
"Starlingfur," he called out, turning and looking towards the nursery. They would obviously be back way too early to have gone to the other clan's camp and return all ready.
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Sept 30, 2015 17:54:51 GMT
When you get to the end of your rope, Tie a knot and hang on.
Finally, things were going as planned. They had a patrol out to meet the other clan, their borders were set, and their numbers were growing. Starlingfur couldn't help but smile as she looked out on her clan from a spot just outside the nursery. They were just rising for the day, going about things as peacefully as though the war had never happened. Her kits slept peacefully inside the nursery, but she had needed a moment's fresh air. Who would be a suitable mentor for Poolkit, she wondered? Rookshadow's adoptive daughter was getting to that age, and... Wait... Rookshadow. Copper eyes turned from peaceful to alert as she spotted the she-cat from across the clearing. What were they doing back... So...
Oh no.
Starlingfur jerked to her paws, dashing across the clearing in a heartbeat. They were injured, and there was blood, and Patchpaw- Patchpaw. Why wasn't Patchpaw moving. Starlingfur looked up, panic in her copper eyes as she fought to stay calm. But Birchtail was wounded and Rookshadow wouldn't meet her eyes and Shadowfrost trailed behind the two- "Birchtail, What happened?" She breathed, face unbelieving. Had they.. run into rogues, or predators, or- did the other clan still live? They were back far too soon to have gone all the way to their camp! If they.. resided in Birchclan's former home. What had happened?!
240 words | Starlingfur | Sunset |
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Post by Kibbles on Sept 30, 2015 19:42:19 GMT
Birchtail looked up at Starlingfur. He snorted once, sadness and anger clear on his face. "That tom Duskblaze attacked us with a patrol. Patchpaw got into a fight with a cat that was much too strong for her. I didn't see exactly what happened, but all I know is that one second I was fighting Duskblaze and the next Rookshadow had the cat pinned to the ground and Patchpaw had her throat ripped out by him," he explained.
He growled lowly. "No greeting or anything, just an attack. They're not weak as far as I can tell. And they're aggressive. They didn't seem concerned that Patchpaw died, just told us to leave and never come back onto their territory. A bunch of fox-hearts is what they are."
He looked over at Rookshadow. "She tried to stop the fighting, but nobody listened. We're all at fault, I suppose." A sigh left him as he tried to calm down. What if it had been one of his own kits? How would he have reacted then?
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Sept 30, 2015 21:44:24 GMT
When you get to the end of your rope, Tie a knot and hang on.
Disbelief slowly turned to fury on the she-cat's face as she listened to Birchtail's explanation. They were attacked. Not by rogues, not by predators. But by the other group. Duskblaze was a name she knew. Not well- but a cat she recalled. A cat who had grown up in the clans. As deputy, she'd had to learn these things. So why had he attacked their patrol- without even asking what they were doing? Why would a clan-raised cat- one who knew the warrior code- one who understood that the clans were attempting to reform- do such a thing! Starlingfur's lip curled, and she began to pace back and forth.
"Starclan..." she didn't even know what to say, eyes burning with anger. What could she say? "Do they not know the warrior code? Do they not understand that, when a small group is moving through the territory of another, if no previous aggressions have been made, that they should ask your purpose first?!" she spat. Rhetorical questions, laced with venom. Normally, Starlingfur was a calm she-cat. A quiet she-cat. But seeing Patchpaw's battered body... She was so young. So vibrant. So full of hope. Just sunrises ago she'd brought mice to the nursery, going on and on about how excited she was to see the newest members of the clan. How she hoped to mentor one someday. She would have made a fine cat- a fine warrior. And now that chance had been ripped away from her, like leaves by a strong breeze. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.
"How dare they? What kind of animals must they be, not to care about the death of a young apprentice? Haven't they seen enough war? Haven't we all?! Why, then. Why do they fight us?!" Aggressive. Uncaring for the warrior code. Savages. that was what Starlingfur was taking out of their words. They were not clan cats- they were rogues, banding together and claiming a territory. They did not follow the law of the clans, and they did not respect the warrior code. Impulsive and rash! Starclan, deep down she'd known that any group of cats what had stormed off so quickly after the gathering had to be bad news. Any group who didn't want to listen to rational discussion- who didn't have the patience to care about the wellbeing of their former clanmates and kits- couldn't be proper warriors. Or- perhaps she hadn't thought this before. Perhaps it was all forming now. Or maybe, those thoughts had been buried deep in her subconscious. But now, Starlingfur's anger bubbled to the surface.
Birchtail's next words made her whip back around. "We- we, are not at fault. Traditional envoys were common practice, once. I don't know how many cats here remember how long Birchclan and Duskclan spent sharing the same camp. The clans are not supposed to be enemies. But these cats... They are young, and they are foolish. Apprentice killers. These are no followers of the code. This is no clan. It's nothing more than a band of rogues." she spat, fur bristling along her spine. As a warrior, perhaps she wouldn't have become so heated. But Starlingfur was a leader now. It was her duty to protect these cats. And one of their young- so youthful and bright- had been unjustly killed. Not only that- but she was a mother. What if Patchpaw had been one of their daughters? One of Featherpaw's sons? How would they have reacted then? All that Cedarclan had wanted was peace. A safe environment- a better future to build for the generations to come. How had it come to this?
"How many were there." Starlingfur finally sighed through her teeth, retaking a seat in front of the patrol. A crowd had gathered now, lining the edges of camp. No cat daring to get too close. "I want descriptions. Ages. Names, if you have them."
665 words | Starlingfur | Sunset |
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Post by Kibbles on Sept 30, 2015 22:11:53 GMT
Birchtail looked at her and didn't seem at all phased by anger. Why would he be? He had grown up with it. Seeing Starlingfur like this was odd, but he didn't blame her. He was angry as well. If he could, he would have torn them apart, but it wasn't a good time. Then again, when was a good time?
"Duskblaze is a brown tabby tom, younger than myself. Snowstorm, a white tom with blue eyes. And the last was a decent sized apprentice with gray and white fur. Oddly enough, purple eyes. I didn't catch his name. He was the one that killed Patchpaw," he explained.
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Rookshadow looked over at them. "They're murderers...Honeyheart is leading a clan of murderers. They're all following the Dark Forest, killing and needless bloodshed," she said, growling now. She was unsheathing and sheathing her claws, creating small holes in the dirt below her.
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A flaming sword of burning righteousness and also fire!
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Post by ♏aple♢ on Oct 5, 2015 8:47:29 GMT
When you get to the end of your rope, Tie a knot and hang on.
Duskblaze. Snowstorm. And a gray and white apprentice with purple eyes. Starlingfur closed her eyes. She knew of the first two- vaguely as it may have been. And that was very vaguely, given her memory. And the third... they would just have to find out. Apprentices killing apprentices. What values were they teaching, in this band of rogues? It was madness. Starlingfur sighed. When her copper eyes finally opened again, they were much more tired. Aged. Apprentice or no, murder could not go unpunished. But a war had just ended- what could she do now? Obviously, they would need time to think. She would need time to think. But time, unfortunately, was something she did not have right now. And Patchpaw's bloodied body grew colder with every moment.
Cedarclan's first death.
May her spirit rest in Starclan.
Turning away from the patrol, Starlingfur made her way through the crowd. She leapt up the High Branch, scaling to the mid-point in a heartbeat. Her eyes were dark as she looked out over her clan. Bitter. Angry. Sorrowful. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the High Branch for a Clan meeting." she called out, voice steel. Many had already gathered, but what remained in their dens poured into the clearing. Starlingfur watched them. Young and old, innocent and scarred. Her clan. Her clanmates. The cats she was supposed to look after- to provide for and teach- and one of them lie dead. It had been a foolish, foolish mistake to send an apprentice on that patrol. And Patchpaw had paid the ultimate price.
"It is with a heavy heart that I make this announcement. We have lost one of our own." Gasps. Murmurs. Distress. "Patchpaw, our first and only apprentice, was sent along with our envoy to our neighbouring group. I call them a group- and not a clan." she raised her head now, fire burning alongside that steel once more. "As all we wished was peace and communication, and they retaliated with claws." Starlingfur spat, digging her claws into the fallen trees. Hisses from below. Yowls of protest. It set a fire to her heart- one of both sorrow and anger. "Patchpaw was murdered. As reported by Birchtail, by a violet-eyed apprentice aged tom of this band of rogues. Other cats sighted on the patrol were warriors Duskblaze and Snowstorm. They did not ask our envoy's purpose before attacking." she would not be a leader to keep things from her clan. If they wished to know the truth, she would tell them. She would not sully Patchpaw's memory by allowing her murderers to go unpunished.
"We will not be attending the coming gathering. Nor will we be treating the cats across the waterfall as a clan. They do not follow clan morals, as far as we have seen. I must... discuss our course of action with our senior warriors and my deputy, but for now..." she sighed, fire dying down. Copper eyes moved back to Patchpaw's body. Such a promising young she-cat. Her life had been ripped away far too soon. "We must mourn for our lost. Let us remember Patchpaw as she was, not for what was done to her. An intelligent, compassionate, and brave young she-cat. A cat with friends and family- hopes and dreams. An apprentice who will be missed dearly. May her soul be at rest in Starclan." she bowed her head, eyes closed.
There would be a burial. The traditional sharing of tongues, and words spoken by family members and friends. Those would all come before any discussion of retaliation, or plans for the future. They would not allow her soul to be dishonored any further.
633 words | Starlingfur | Sunset |
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