COLLATERAL DAMAGE [ open - POW]

I like this one. Vader thinks, watching her and the cage, and entering the scene. She was practically doing his job for him. His old job, anyway. Windclan didn't really like Prisoners. "You have done an excellent job." I wouldn't treat my own Prisoners so kindly, but still. A for effort.

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Oh look, it was his blue warrior but with the prisoner that had managed to claw at his shoulders. The wounds stung a little but not enough to make him complain or anything, the ebony hued cougar twitched his whiskers momentarily soon speaking with a voice void of emotion "Good job." He took a seat curling his spotted tail around his forepaws giving a roll of his shoulders staring at the prisoner with narrowed eyes being able to catch all of what Blueridge had said silently agreeing with it with a twitch of his ears. He flicked an ear hearing Darth Vader praising Blue, he released a chuckle. She had done a good job.

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/apologize for mobile

Fuckery-duckery-doodah. It seemed like no matter how hard the young female tried, she would always end up in a cage of some sort. At least this fellow - enemy or not - cared for her health instead of using her as some sort of sex slave. However, still, she was being treated like some sort of caged animal. Animal she was, but caged she was unhappy about.

Marie took in the words of the blue soldier, her dazed gaze still holding a sort of infuriation and dangerous heat behind their lime-hued irises. They were taking care of her, huh? What a perfect way to slip into her regeneration cycle.

The ginger, slightly emaciated female's body worked in a strange way. She could change her body into any known animal at any given time. When she did, her body's health was fully restored and her wounds visible but partly healed. However, when she suffered too much from a battle or was emotionally weak, her ability was muted.

It took sleep and nutrition to nurse herself into a safe level of health - which, fortunately, this jailer was giving her. Any moment that she wasn't well enough and tried to morph would could kill her or harm her even further. Therefore, Marie resisted the urge to turn into a stronger, larger creature and get herself out of the fucking cage.

Emitting a low, guttural, although rather weak snarl, Marie snapped her jaws at the face of the warrior. She was furious, not only because she was a prisoner of war, but because back on the battle field, her beloved ones were fighting.

"I would much rather prefer a chain than a cage, Maegi. Won't you give me that privilege of a larger roaming ground?" Marie asked her softer, gentler voice warbling from her vocals albeit she did call the warrior a witch. She was much too weak to emit anything else, and therefore resulted in the voice she was normally heard in. "If ya' dont, hun, liger-liger might go bye-bye. Might be such a pain to see your hard work simply die, won't it?" Her German-French-British-Dothrakian drawl was coming into play here for she was much too tired to keep her accents in check.

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Henry had heard of the raid but had stayed far away from it. He wasn't one to fight, especially not with his current injuries. However, when he caught Shadowclan's scent still in camp fear shot through him and he would look about before then noticing the small crowd gathering about something. The deputy would move forward, now close enough to be picking up bits of the conversation and, finally, he would see the Shadowclanner. Immediately, anger would flare in his usually calm gaze and he would look towards Blueridge. "I can accept the fact that you weren't aware of our rules initially but now that you are you will release her. I don't care what leverage you think this gives you. Windclan does not capture others. I'll bring her to my cabin and give her a proper dinner and make sure any wounds she has are patched up, something I would not do if she had been left in battle. Shadowclan starved and tortured me for a week. We will not be like them remotely and that includes not allowing our members to capture whoever they please. Are we clear?" His tone was firm and cold, although his voice still seemed scratchy from disuse and it was quite apparent from his mutilated paw and the claw marks all over his body that he had yet to heal from what had happened. The skinny, lame dog was hardly intimidating but it was at least clear he wouldn't budge on the matter.

Atticustomers had kept himself away from Windclan's activities ever since his blindness. His judgement was gone, he could so see for himself and therefore he thought it was not in his place to give any form of opinion. The coyote was on his porch before Blueridge spoke, he did not greet her when she arrived in Windclan so the voice was foreign to him. He felt threatened, was this an invader?
Turns out she was a Windclanner. One who had captured a prisoner.
A Shadowclan one.

He had to speak, he had to say something. Surely his wisdom was desired, right? The mangled canine limped off his porch, his paws sinking into snow thay made him stumble. To avoid further embarrassment, the veteran halted and instead called out eith a loud and clear voice. "You should all know what emprisonment does to people." He said, his head pointed towards the floor but his ears were perked forward to catch the sounds before him. "It's no justice, no righteousness. I know how Extreme it can go an' trust me when I say that you don't want that power t'get to your head."

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The little white-furred pup slipped over to the group, a frown pressing against her maw at the situation before her. Yes, Blueridge didn't know what she was doing but all Victorian could think of was the retaliation brewing in Shadowclan. It would not be good.

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"No, Blueridge is right. This is good. We have been using extremely generous tactics- we are not a pro-clan, we are neutral. We could capture if we were allowed." Vader still had his stash of persuasive drugs somewhere. It had been a while since he got to use them. "Even this is generous, to treat a captive so kindly. Shadowclan has withheld Takumi, Luna, a former member, has led raids against us, and we have been continuously sitting back and, again, we do nothing in return. People used to leave Windclan be because we had Cherviltea, but now we have nothing, and we need to do something. Blueridge is fresh ideas, different tactics- we should at least take her into consideration, because our strict adherence to peaceful values will destroy us."

Atticus fell into Submissive silence as more spoke, there were good arguments. So, Blueridge was treating the prisoner with kindness? It seemed like it. There was no plaguing scent of blood or vomit or starvation. Everything seemed okay, but deep inside it truly wasn't. Shaking his head in opposition, the blind veteran spoke up once again "Shadowclan will only grow more furious." He said aloud, perkimg his head up slightly to power his voice further. "These are good arguments, but Shadowclan will come back an' they will have no remorse if we keep her." He then paused, catching himself in his thoughts before bringing up another point. "Wether we return her or not... Shadowclan will still have a quarry with us..." Was emprisonment truly the answer? This was war... this was... he sighed. "What happens here will not benefit the relationship between Windclan and Shadowclan. If we keep captives we may jus' feed the flame of their fury."

His anger would only become more prominent and his jaw would tighten. He was sick of being treated like nothing he said was of any importance. First by Luna, then Vader, and now Blueridge. He was sick of it. At Vader's remark he would look at the man in disbelief. "Taking captives is against everything Windclan stands for! It's not about who gets an advantage, it's about being a decent person and respecting natural human rights," He would say, his tone now holding a slight edge. "If Jonathan wouldn't capture Bill Cipher, I doubt he'll make an exception now because a few of you think it sounds like fun. Not only that but Atticus is right. Our enemies are already furious with us; here's no reason to give them a reason to attack again," He'd then snap, edging closer to Attie as he spoke of the other, as though he wanted nothing more than to stand beside the other now.

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Henry would listen to her, his ears pinning themselves back as he listened. He didn't like the way she spoke to Attie at all. He was just doing his best to think of a peaceful solution and pointing out the obvious flaws in her way of thinking. At this point, he would walk to Attie and gently press his pelt against the other's, although he didn't seem to calm down much at all. "You're absolutely right, we aren't humans but that doesn't mean we should behave without any rules. We are intelligent beings capable of much higher actions than taking others simply for our own benefit. You have done nothing more here today other than aggravate our enemies further and break a clan policy which has stood for as long as I've been here," He would retort. It didn't matter what form he took, he was still him. Just because he wasn't a human anymore didn't mean he was no longer Dr. Henry Jekyll. Nothing had changed other than his physical appearance and that proved to him that these animals were far more than the dim witted creatures that had been on the Earth in his time. However, at her last sentence, a brief glimmer of pain would come to his eyes. A madman? Was that really how they thought of him? Then his anger would follow. How dare she call him that. Had she ever sat in an asylum across from many men who she knew would be killed by those awful procedures? Had she ever experienced having another take over her mind and body to preform awful deeds? Had she ever even studied the mind or tried to help those stuck in situations they could not control? What right did she have to call him something that she knew nothing of? He was about to speak up once again but then Oliver spoke for him and he did not object as the griffin would melt the cage.

Blueridge's ferocious snort was caught by Attie's ears, his newfound sensitivity to sound made her harsh tone much more amplified in his brain. The coyote cowered back in reaction, his tail curling between his legs and his head dropping down low as he took the criticism from the feline. He felt Henry press up next to him, he knew it was the body of his lover, the scent hung in the air more concentrated and more known than the rest of Windclan. He fell into complete quietude as he contemplated the snap that came from Blueridge, drowning out all that rolled ahead of him, voices and words being muffled by his thoughts.
What did I do? Nothing. Did he ever really do something?
A conscientious objector was what he was once known as, a man who refrained from violence in war for moral reasons. Religion and pacifism was Attie's reason, but it was no cowardice.
In the past he had been beaten for his choices as a pacifist, many thought that he deemed himself superior and more humble for not participating in war equipped with a weapon. Fellow soldiers, people he was meant to trust attempted to beat sense into him, show him that violence was needed for self defense
Was it truly needed if violence was the cause of all the pain?
The coyote allowed himself to sit down, his face wrinkling slightly with a scowl.
"Listen... Windclan is neutral. I agree that yes, we do have the choice of capturin' another an' so." The veteran said softly in an almost murmur before shaking his head. "Forget it. Jus' release her. I don't wanna worsen the quarry between Shadowclan and Windclan."

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[ just a thought, maybe we should stop real quick? we don't want to overwhelm Marie's roleplayer :3 ]

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