Death by Storm

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  • #8140
    Feared
    Participant

    Eveningstorm ~ WindClan Warrior

    The morning was pleasant enough, the grass and dirt were soaking wet from the constant rain that had been beating down upon the Clans, leaf-fall was rapidly approaching and so was the rainy season. Nose twitching slightly as the massive tomcat lifted his big head, breathing in the heavy aroma of the rain that was building up in the clouds above. Dark molten amber eyes glanced up towards the swollen angry grey clouds, not a lick of sunlight in sight as he then glanced over his broad shoulder blade, eyeing the few felines that had been chosen along with himself for the morning hunting patrol. “Alright, Falconscar, I want you to take Hazelpaw up on that ridge and scout for rabbits. They tend to come out before a storm hits, Hazelpaw needs some experience with tracking down prey.” Eveningstorm meowed, being the senior warrior to the patrol, it was customary to take charge and give instruction, but he did so kindly. Gorsewhisker cleared his throat as the black and red tomcat looked towards Eveningstorm, his grey eyes flashing with silent emotion. “I’ll hunt with you, Eveningstorm. The shrews are usually plentiful near the river.” He offered while Eveningstorm nodded silently, the logic was sound and he was more than welcome to the company but his mind and heart just wasn’t into this hunt. “Sounds like a solid plan to me. We will meet up by the brush before the rain hits.” Eveningstorm murmured, ears twitching as he turned away from Falconscar and Hazelpaw.

    Quiethawk and Desertrose. Eight days. That’s how long it had been since the two had decided to become mates and even though he knew he should be supporting the two of them. He couldn’t. Quiethawk often looked towards him but he was refusing to see either one of them, his heart just ached too painfully. Instead he had been trying to find comfort in another she-cat but things really weren’t going anywhere, not that he really wanted them to. Desertrose was either oblivious or she didn’t care about how he felt towards the matter, maybe he had been subtle about courting her but she didn’t seem like she would’ve reacted well to Eveningstorm being too strong about his advances. Grumbling softly to himself, his dark eyes were unfocused as he trudged along the edge of the river, not exactly paying attention but his nostrils would flare here and there in order to take in the scents around him, his instincts still well aware that they were hunting. While his heart was aching to the fact that neither Quiethawk or Desertrose was his, instead they belonged to one another. I don’t get it… Quiethawk never mentioned that he liked Desertrose. Maybe I didn’t give him the chance to say so, perhaps that’s why he got so mad at me. He thought to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he continued to walk, pausing briefly for a moment as he half turned. Suddenly he felt the air being knocked out his lungs, eyes closing as his mouth opened to release a pained grunt, landing upon his side as he gasped for air. Teeth suddenly dug into his scruff, eyes widening in surprise but he still couldn’t fathom what came next, his lungs still aching from the shock of being knocked down, to now the shock of nothing beneath him but air. He couldn’t even scream, his eyes closing and his mouth filling with water as the angry and swollen river swallowed him up, immediately pushing him towards the lake. The angry sound of the tide pounding in his ears as his paws thrashed wildly against the water, trying to reach the surface, eyes wide and stinging from the salt.

    Gorsewhisker had been watching Eveningstorm, they were finally alone and the much larger tomcat was close to the raging water and he was seeing his chance get brighter and brighter. Pupils narrowing as the black and red tomcat was bracing himself, mentally talking himself up in order to land the blow. There was no way he could take Eveningstorm head on, he was one of the more massive cats in the clan and a powerful warrior at that. His only chance was surprise. Eveningstorm halted as he ran, but he didn’t give the other tomcat a chance to see him coming, instead he barreled into the muscular side of his opponent, grunting upon the impact but he hit him square in the chest with his shoulder. Eveningstorm was winded and immediately fell down because of the blow, but he hadn’t been as close to the edge as Gorsewhisker had thought. Panicking, he shifted to step over the big dark brown and white tabby tomcat, teeth digging in the scruff of Eveningstorm as he dragged the heavy car the few inches before gravity did the rest. Swallowing his body into the river when he fell from the bank. Yes! Gorsewhisker thought with victory, panting heavily from the drag, before turning around.

    #8142
    snow
    Participant

    h a z e l p a w
    on a hunting patrol

    The rain was rather annoying, the slimy drops slithering down Hazelpaw’s dilute tortoiseshell pelt and soaking in at the tips. It had let up just long enough for the group of felines to hunt, but from the scent clinging heavily to the leaves and in the wind, it was clear they didn’t have long. The apprentice flicked an ear, not looking forward to her activities for the day. A hunting patrol as soon as she awoke? Now that was bad luck, especially because Whitesnake would be taking her for battle training and sparring right after. Trying not to think too much about the ache her paws would endure, the molly parted her maw to scent for any rabbits nearby, ears alert. Eveningstorm’s orders simply made the apprentice nod, her tail tip flicking dismissively as she looked at Falconscar, a brand new warrior and her close friend. “I’ll go with you, but don’t tell me what to do,” she growled, though her tone was playful and cheery as she sped up, paws thumping along the moist earth as she disappeared over the crest.

    As soon as her partner had arrived, the apprentice pricked her ears and stood still, green eyes scanning the damp moorland for any sign of life. Scenting nothing but rain, she lashed her tail irritably, claws scoring the ground beneath her. “I don’t think anything will be down below this hill,” she began, blinking softly as she thought. “The rain will have washed the rabbits out of their holes, we’d have more luck uphill, maybe over-“ she broke off and tensed her muscles, straining her ears. “Wait, I think I heard something from over there.” She angled her ears back the way they had come, and sure enough, a small rabbit had strayed from it’s hole, hopping wearily about. Crouching, the apprentice silently drew closer, careful not to make any noise with her breathing. Just as she prepared to spring, something scared her catch, causing it to freeze and dart down the path they’d come. “No!” Hazelpaw squeaked, her long limbs carrying her easily across the moor as she tore after the hare, tail streaming behind her. 

    Once she’d crossed the distance, she realized how close to the lake she was. Slowing down, the tortie let out a hiss of frustration as her catch was nowhere to be seen. She took a few pawsteps forward and peered over the edge, not seeing the rabbit but finding Gorsewhisker and Eveningstorm instead. Why are they so close to the water? she thought idly, turning around to speak to Falconscar, though he was nowhere to be seen. Flicking an ear, she began trotting toward them, jaws parting to let out a call that she was there. As soon as she was about to speak, Gorsewhisker’s frame crashed into Eveningstorm, knocking him over and sending him dangerously close to the edge. Sighing in relief that he hadn’t gone over, Hazelpaw began sprinting, not realizing what was happening. Claws unsheathing, the tall molly skidded to a halt as she watched on in horror. Gorsewhisker had sunk his teeth into Eveningstorm’s scruff, hauling his unconscious body directly into the swirling water. Confusion and fear made Hazelpaw unable to move, jaw gaped in horror as she slowly registered what had just happened. Just as she forced a pawstep back, Gorsewhisker’s large frame whipped around to face her, his piercing gaze boring into her own green irises. A look of knowing passed between the warrior and apprentice. It was clear he knew that Hazelpaw had witnessed the murder, yet the apprentice was no match for the warrior. Although lithe, she was still only half the size of the tomcat. Unable to break her gaze from Gorsewhisker, the molly’s lip quivered in fear, her voice barely audible to him as she rasped out, “Eveningstorm…”

    #8145
    Pheebs
    Participant

    Falconscar’s proud ears stood at attention, listening to Eveningstorm speak with a focused look. After being instructed to split from the older toms, the new warrior bowed his head and swiftly led the way to the ridge. The tabby snickered, shoving Hazelpaw with little control. “Yeah, right. Like I’d try telling you what to do- talking to you is like talking to the moorland dirt. It’s completely useless.” Falconscar raced after his childhood friend, his lean body all limber legs and whip-thin tail. He came to a halt at the brown molly’s side, fiery orange gaze trailing across the view around them. 

    “Hazel, wait-“ The shorthair began only to be ignored by his companion as she dashed away. “Rabbit-dung,” Falconscar pushed forward, following his friend’s path until he split off to the right. ‘She couldn’t even catch her prey,’ he thought with a smirk, extending his legs to cover more ground. With each pump of his limbs, Falconscar felt the freedom and lightness running always filled him with, and he grinned in the sheer thrill of it. Within minutes the tabby cut into the rabbit’s path and blocked it from escaping, swiftly ending its life with a bite to the neck. ‘Hazelpaw’s gonna be so pissed,’ Falconscar mused, grinning from ear to ear. The warrior picked up his prey and made his way back to the lake, spotting Hazelpaw after he’d crossed the hill.

    ‘What is she-‘ The young feline froze. His eyes were wide and the hints of a snarl tugged out of him. Falconscar dropped his catch and lunged towards the pair of Windclanners, he was no more than a blur and a frenzy of rapidly moving legs. He couldn’t be sure, but he was fairly certain he’d just witnessed Gorsewhisker murder a clanmate. ‘No way in hell is he touching Hazelpaw.’ Falconscar was there in a heartbeat, leaping and aiming for Gorsewhisker’s side. The pair of warriors tumbled and lashed out at one another, with Falcon laying a good few blows of his own. He was not as experienced, but Falconscar was slimmer and filled with a type of wild rage that Starclan themselves couldn’t hope to control. His movements, while frantic, were well-placed ones, despite the blurring of his thoughts.

    ‘This fox-hear thinks he can attack and kill a clanmate?! Does he think he can threaten an apprentice?! What kind of warrior is he? What kind of Windclan warrior is he?!’ Falcon stepped back, panting with exertion but still thrumming with energy. His anger mingled with anxiety, the fear of losing his friend still pressing on him. The adrenaline he felt left him shaking, but he seemed unaware that his paws were crimson red, and his eyes chaotic and unfocused. 

    #8146
    Feared
    Participant

    Eveningstorm ~ WindClan Warrior

    Gorsewhisker stared at the young molly as his grey eyes landed upon her much smaller form, her facial expression morphed with horror from the deed that she had just witnessed. They both knew that she couldn’t be allowed to speak what she had seen. He was so focused on the apprentice that he hadn’t yet sensed Falconscar running as fast as his long legs could carry, instead his upper lip raised slowly and he took a haunting step towards Hazelpaw. “If you tell anyone what happened, I’ll throw you over the side of the river as well.” He snarled the warning, his black and red fur sticking up along his scruff to indicate his aggression while his long tail was also fluffed out. Before he could take another step towards Hazelpaw, something battered roughly into his side, knocking him to the ground in a flurry of fur. “Gah!” He snarled out of a surprise, closing an eye as his face connected with the moist dirt beneath him, glowering at Falconscar as the young tom was battering his claws against him.

    “Get off!” Gorsewhisker growled as he looked up at Falconscar, lifting a nimble paw as he scored his claws across the toms chest, his claws slicing through the skin and yanking out fur in a feeble attempt to protect himself. Upper lip raised in a snark of pain and frustration as Falconscar just continued to pound down upon him. The blows were strong and although they were erratic, his claws were unsheathed and were cutting through Gorsewhisker’s fur and skin. Black and red fur flying from the fighting, causing Gorsewhisker to yowl with pain with each blow and slice that Falconscar was giving him. “Stop!” He gasped, but it was already too late. A major artery had been partially cut into from the swipes and blows, blood seeping rapidly from the wound upon his neck as he gasped to breathe. Falconscar did in fact pull his blows and step off of Gorsewhisker but it was too late. His breathing was slowing and his sight was already turning black, his body twitching slightly from the pain he endured from the beating, but it was also natural for a body to twitch before death. Second went by before Gorsewhisker went completely still. His plan had been a total failure to get Eveningstorm out of the way in order to court Desertrose himself and perhaps woo his way into the position of deputy. However, now two toms were dead, both by the claws of their own clan mates.

    ———————————————————-

    Salt water was in his mouth, up his nose, clogging his ears to where he could only hear the rapid roaring of the river. If he hadn’t been so winded and half conscious from the blow then perhaps he would’ve been able to breech the surface of his own. His massive and powerful body was slack as it was thrown to and fro by the tide, throwing him against the sides of the banks and the bottom of the river before continuing its assault. His lungs were screaming, absolutely burning in demand for oxygen but he just couldn’t seem to control his limbs, no matter how hard he tried. He was going to die, he knew it, he just wished that StarClan would take him sooner than later.

    Hours went by, the tide was still knocking Eveningstorm’s body around, his form getting caught in the tide of the lake near the bay, before getting thrown back into another long river that jointed down to SkyClan territory. By the grace of StarClan alone, the tabby was still breathing, the tide was softer in this area and allowed his body to float on its side with his left cheek hidden by the murky water. Here the water was flowing down from the mountains, becoming fresh water that would eventually mingle into salt water, but he didn’t take notice at all. He was completely unconscious as the tide pushed his body up to the shore. The dull thonk on his head from the river pebbles brought him out of his haze, his sight was blurry as he opened his dark amber eyes the best he could. Lungs burning as he instantly gagged as if someone had jumped upon his stomach, propelling water from both his stomach and lungs to clear his ragged airways. Groaning in pain, the salt water stung his throat and soiled his tongue, eyes closing tightly as he managed to pull himself further onto shore before collapsing. Hearing footsteps, he lifted his cheek weakly as his eyes landed upon a blurry pair of figures. Felines, one with the most beautiful black and white fur and shimmering green eyes as he gazed weakly up at the she-cat. “H-help…” Was all he could manage. His hind legs and tail still at the mercy of the rivers tide, body shaking from the pounding he had received while in the water, his head throbbing painfully before his cheek finally landed upon the pebbles of the river, eyes closing as he lost consciousness. He was alive. But he knew he was lost.

    #8151
    SoliloquySilver
    Participant

    Frostburn – SkyClan

    It seemed like just a normal day. Frostburn was on a hunting trip with Dawnstorm, and the two she-cats were having a delightful time. They were chatting and joking around, laughter filling the air around them. “No, you should’ve seen Aspenskip’s face, it was hil- Wait, what’s that?” The story she had been telling the deputy was cut short when she noticed something bobbing around in the river. She squinted, taking a hesitant step towards the water as the figure was pushed halfway onto the shore. “It’s a cat!” She gasped, eyes widening as she suddenly rushed forward towards the poor tabby that had gotten caught in the current.

    Up close, he definitely looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. His pitiful plea for help tore at Frostburn’s heart, what in StarClan’s name had happened to this tom? Where had he come from? She shook her head, now was not the time for questions. She was much smaller than him, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing him by the scruff and pulling with all her might. He was heavy with water, completely unconscious , and her single back foot kept slipping on the pebbles, but she somehow managed to pull the mystery tom the rest of the way onto dry land. His pelt was cold, but he was still breathing. He was alive, but for how long? “Crickets Dawnstorm, we have to get him back to camp! He’s badly wounded and freezing!” She announced, eyes wide. This was the last thing she planned to do today, she almost couldn’t believe it.

    #8184
    snow
    Participant

    h a z e l p a w
    on a hunting patrol

    Hazelpaw’s ears remained flat against her skull, the threat from her clanmate making the fur on her shoulders spike up with fear. She hadn’t processed fully what had occurred but knew Gorsewhisker pushed Eveningstorm on purpose. Claws sinking into the peaty earth below, the she-cat stood rigid in case she fell over, green eyes narrowing to slits. It was only a mere few seconds before Falconscar had sprinted past her, his pelt brushed out and his claws outstretched. He tackled the other warrior, sending the two toms in a whirling fury of claws and fur. The stench of blood was enough to knock Hazelpaw out of her confused state, racing forward to break up the fight. “Falconscar wait!” she cried, pacing to and fro in a hurried manner, not sure if she should break them up.

    In the moment Falconscar took a pawstep back, the apprentice rushed forward, gagging as blood pooled at her paws. Gorsewhisker was bleeding heavily from the throat, his rugged breaths becoming shallower until he laid unmoving. Hazelpaw’s green eyes searched his just in time to watch the spark dull. A shiver passed through her body as she shakily stood up, padding over to the lake and peering into it. It had begun to rain, the gentle droplets disturbing the calm surface of the lake as a storm began to roll through. Feeling hollow, the dilute tortoiseshell trotted over to Falconscar, the gentle raindrops soaking into her pelt. “He’s gone,” she mewed numbly, referring to both toms. “They’re just, gone.” 

    Nudging her friend, the she-cat slowly sauntered over to Gorsewhisker’s cold, wet body. He appeared small and ragged, his fur hanging off him in clumps and his maw twisted in a growl. “Should we… bring him to c-camp?” she asked wearily, unsure if he deserved a proper burial or not. She knew the pair couldn’t sit out here forever, but she sure didn’t want to haul a traitor’s body back to camp if they wouldn’t bury him anyway.

    #8191
    Pheebs
    Participant

    Time felt slow, like the trickle of crimson that was gradually slipping down his leg. Falconscar hadn’t- he didn’t mean to do- That. ‘Take a breath, what would dad tell you to do?’ The fear was pressing on him, but the young warrior fought for breath and an idea. ‘You didn’t kill him, because you didn’t mean to do it! You, you were protecting Hazelpaw!’ Yes, that sounded alright. ‘They won’t believe that flimsy claim!’ Falconscar cringed, knowing his father was right. He had to be convincing.

    Should we… bring him to c-camp?” The slim tabby warrior rose to his full height, amber eyes blazing and cold. “No. Gorsewhisker will pay the price for his treason because death was a mercy.” Falconscar barely comprehended his words, only that he felt cold, cold, cold. His movements felt slow and forced, though really, his motions were as graceful and confident as always. Leaning down, the warrior choked on the smell of iron and taste of copper, focusing intently on the task of dragging the body towards the river. ‘You’re making the right decision. You’re making the right decision. You’re making the right decision. You’re making the right decision.’

    “Help me?” Falconscar asked, almost shily if it weren’t for the dullness in his voice. ‘You’re going to need to clean your paws.’ The idea of tasting copper on his tongue when it already painted his paws made him shudder, his gut twisting and churning. ‘I was trying to save Hazelpaw.’ Falconscar clung to that fact, holding it close to his trembling heart.

    #8213
    snow
    Participant

    h a z e l p a w
    on a hunting patrol

    Hazelpaw flinched as Falconscar calmly denied her question, rising to his paws. He looked different, his amber eyes blazing with a passion the apprentice couldn’t decipher. Unglueing her paws from the moorland below, she stepped lightly over to Gorsewhisker’s unmoving body confusion and grief sweeping over her features. As far as she had known the tomcat was a respectable and well-liked warrior, a powerful opponent in battle, and a great hunter. Though after his dispute with Falconscar, the dilute calico couldn’t find a trace of the strong warrior he had once been. Seeking comfort from her friend, she peered up at her companion with wide, sad green eyes. Unfortunately, Falconscar didn’t notice.

    At first, she didn’t hear his question, staring lamely at the moorland beneath her. Once it registered in her brain, Hazelpaw looked back up at Falconscar with a rather fearful look. Sniffling softly, she nodded and bent over, gently grasping the tomcats crimson-stained fur, flaring out her nostrils as the metallic taste of blood seeped over her tongue. He killed him so quickly… everything happened so fast, she thought helplessly, casting a sideways glance at her companion. A cold claw gripped her heart as she remembered how savagely Falconscar had attacked Gorsewhisker, how he mercilessly ended his life, and how coolly he shrugged it off. Fear slowly crept across Hazelpaw’s spine, slithering through her skin and seeping deep into every pore in her slender body. Unlike Falconscar, Hazelpaw wore her emotions on her sleeve. Shaking out her fur, she nodded at the warrior and the two began the long trek back to camp on trembling paws.

    #8235
    turnip
    Participant

    Dawnstorm ⛅ Deputy of Skyclan

         Dawnstorm joined one of her warriors for a hunt, a formidable ally by the name of Frostburn. Somehow, the task of fetching prey had been forgotten as they walked side by side. What she thought was a small chat along the way had turned into a most ridiculous tale. Dawnstorm couldn’t believe how much she laughed and couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun with another clan-mate. The calico had always been the serious type, even in kithood there wasn’t much time for fun. She was truly carving a friend out of Frostburn.

    All the gabbing and giggling came to a sudden halt. It was only a distraction, anyhow. Frostburn spotted him first, a body in the water. Hardly breathing, their pelt covered in wet and muck. There was no telling by their scent just who it may be. Dawnstorm’s gaze followed the river upstream, leading towards the bay. From there it could be anyone’s guess on their origins. Judging by the slashing wounds, it would appear their tumble into the water was provoked…

    Frostburn’s exclaim pulled her attention. Kitty brows furrowed low above her eyes, there was a moment of hesitation before she nodded.
    “Quickly,” Dawnstorm said, approaching the unconscious lump. She dug her teeth into their scruff, muscles rippling under her colorful coat as she heaved the cat up. Without a heartbeat to wait, Dawnstorm made a beeline for camp, dragging the heavy furball between her teeth.

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