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    Once the large brute of a dog was gone Honeyfrost had continued on to his next target more of a medium sized dog whos breath was to hot for comfort and stank more then mouse dung. The shifting of the dogs feet brought his attention down to some sharp curved claws and he winced inwardly there truly was not one that could have some of a mind to leave no they had to be mindless blood thirsty creatures with no appreciation for life. A snarl brought his attention back to the dogs face which was met with a hiss from himself, the dog stepping forward lips curling back from its teeth. Honeyfrost allowed his claws to remain out ready for the lunge that would try to take his life, Honeyfrost flicked his tail watching as the dogs eyes were diverted to the quick movement as it bounced forward teeth snapping Honeyfrost barreled into the dog a yelp whistled out of the dogs lungs echoing in the toms ears. A mess of tumbling fur Honeyfrost attacked its eyes its chest wherever his claws could land until he felt a shove from its hind legs making Honeyfrost tumble over his breath coming out hard as he tried to catch enough to move. He heard the snapping of a twig his head swinging up the dog seemed to be shifting its head back and forth before it lunged forward once more Honeyfrost felt his legs twitch to get out of its way before a paw came down across his face a yowl broke free from his maw as everything started to burn. The pain making Honeyfrost move as he shoved up locking his teeth into the throat of the dog he could feel it jolt in surprise before it began to struggle Honeyfrost would not let go.

    "Speech" -Attack-


    Tomcat | Warrior | 29 moons | Thunderclan

    Adopted Brother of Whiteheart, Webpaw and Lionpaw

    Mentor of: Maisy and Wetpaw

    Origins: Thistleclan


    Shecat | apprentice | 11 moons | Thunderclan

    Adopted Sister of Whiteheart, and Honeyfrost also a very close friend to Lionpaw

    Apprentice to: Briarheart Whiteheart

    Origins: Mistleclan

    Discord: ~Nightrose~#6851

    Please add to plot or anything involving Thunderclan, myself and my characters.

  • Owlpaw was absolutely desperate. He had virtually no training, but he knew the dogs wouldn’t care about that, and his size would would compel any Bloodclan cat to think him far older than he truly was. His training had started of slowly, only for his mentor, the clan deputy no less, to be exiled.

    Creeping around the perimeter of the camp, he fruitlessly sought a way to avoid fighting while still being helpful to his clan. Just as he was about to give up, scale a tree, and cling there praying to Starclan for the battle to end, his eyes alighted on the nursery. At first it had seemed that all the kits had been evacuated by some other apprentices, but closer inspection revealed Juniperkit crouched, frozen in fear outside the den.

    His own fear was forgotten at the sight of the tiny, cowering silver-gray tabby. A newfound purpose surged through him, offering energy and confidence to guide his paws.

    Bounding forward, he was nearly there when he was arrested by the image of Briarheart, his own clan mate, clamping her jaws mercilessly around the throat of a Bloodclan cat near the nursery.

    Terror flooded his veins anew, and he froze for a moment. The caterwauling of warriors, shrieks of pain, and the baying of hounds shook him from his temporary shock induced fugue.

    Springing toward Juniperkit he landed powerfully in front of her, bracing his bulky frame on all fours to block her view of the battle raging around her. The sudden, uncharacteristically commanding aura he exuded belied the fear and uncertainty inside him as he faced Briarheart.

    Forcing his voice not to quaver he gruffly informed the warrior, “I’ve got her. She’ll be safe.”

    Not waiting for a response, he grasped the kit’s scruff in his maw, ducked his head so that she was tucked protectively under his chin, and pushed his way through the ruins of the camp wall, bounding out into the relative safety of the nighttime forest.

    [img width=510 height=340]http://i45.tinypic.com/2lc8dfn.jpg[/img]

    [URL=http://warriorcatsrpg.com/index.php?topic=806726.msg31390736msg31390736][img width=510 height=341]http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/589/573009961c11982m3.jpg[/img][/URL]

    Valentine would've made a snide comeback towards the kittypet, something that jabbed at her origins, if it hadn't been for Grizzlyfang interrupting them. Concerned for her clanmate, the tyro watched the tom fight the ruthless, slobbering hound as she tried to figure out if she should help the scarred maine coon or not. Even if she did decide to help, how much could she truly offer? The dog would maul her as if she were the size of a rat, and it would tarnish the mission BloodClan came here for. She had her belief that Grizzlyfang could help himself or else one of the more experienced rippers could help him take down the hound.

    That distraction was enough to leave her vulnerable to Maisy, who simply heaved the tyro's much lighter frame off of her. Cursing herself for becoming distracted in the midst of a bloody battle, the dark tabby scrambled up to her paws and was about to chase the ThunderClanner. The insult a struck a chord, unbeknowns to the kittypet; the snarl just added salt to the flame. With a bristling pelt, Valentine only wanted to claw the sneer off of her face. But, before the tyro could act on anything, Sergei's rallying call for retreat echoed around the Battlefield. She knew trying to finish this fight would only make matters worse, so Valentine sent a glare towards Maisy before running towards her leader and mentor.

    As the she-cat was weaving her way through the crowd of clashing cats and dogs, a flash of gray fur crossed her vision as it ran straight towards Sergei; Stormchaser. He was the one Tom that Valentine knew she should've stayed away from throughout this entire fight, but she wanted nothing more than to rip his pelt off of his skin. If things worked out perfectly, the tyro could surprise the senior warrior and her and Sergei could both tag-team him. Her plan was brilliant, and probably even worthy of ripper status. But, she knew right now wasn't the time to think about that; she had to stay in the present.

    Valentine dropped down into a crouch, stalking towards the senior warrior and her mentor in hopes that nothing blocked her path. Right as she was at pouncing distance, the BloodClanner saw a pelt of bright orange launching themselves at Stormchaser and Sergei's locked battle. ThunderClan never did fight fair, and now wasn't a time they would start. Changing her course without thinking of who she was attempting to fight, Valentine instead pounced into Flamestar with unsheathed claws, aiming to stab her claws into the ThunderClan leader's side and use enough of her force to knock the molly away from Sergei and Stormchaser.

    FLAMESTAR -   CaserDilla   SERGEI.




    valentine - tyro - bloodclan - tags - penned by nyx

  • He knew he had drawn ThunderClan's ire. These few moons past had only brought him to inflict an escalating horror on the forest-dwellers, first out of arrogance, then what he deemed necessity. Pride did not allow him to concede peace, and this was what it led to: the screams of innocent cats, the hellish growls of the hounds, and the tang of hot blood attacking his senses all at once. But most horrific was his own indifference to it all. Their suffering meant nothing to him now, myopic focus on his cruel dreams stealing away sympathy for the enemy. He had a clan to lead.

    Bursting forth from the battlefield, tail streaming behind his flight like a banner, Stormchaser barrelled into Sergei. His body twisted wildly in an attempt to rebalance his weight, but the gray warrior, joined by his own leader, crushed his effort, and he fell hard against the packed earth. His head rang for a hollow moment, and blood began to pour into his mouth from where his own teeth had pierced his cheek. For a moment, he thought he might be killed— before Valentine appeared from the fray like a young guardian, and a shot of strength ran through him. She wanted her revenge, and he was happy to play aide to the little executioner. But Stormchaser and Flamestar also sought to rip a monster to pieces, their own desire for vindication burning no lower. He thought he could already sense the rotting stench of death on the air.

    He writhed and lunged like a pinned snake, snapping jaws reaching for anything they could grasp of the silvery warrior standing over him. His hind legs kicked, half-adorned with dog's teeth, trying to repel the dual onslaught. He aimed to loosen their grip on his flank, so he might slither into a more defensible position. If he failed, he was near-helpless to shield himself from their hunger to kill the BloodClan beast.

    FLAMESTAR -   CaserDilla


  • ◇ Sometimes you must forget what you feel, and remember what you deserve ◇

    Info — Stormchaser | Male | Senior Warrior | 49 moons | ThunderClan | Interaction: — SERGEI.

    The feeling of Sergei beneath his paws charged within every aspect of his soul. Unbeknownst to him, this was the tom that had started it all. Stormchaser had been longing for this moment, had been longing to feel Sergei's flesh in between his pads and clutched within his claws. A flash of orange had aided him, and he only caught a glimpse of Flamestar with a slightly widened gaze. Why was she helping him? This was the leader who wanted to cause chaos within the clan, the leader who had exiled her own flesh and blood because she wanted to help keep ThunderClan afloat. Before he could utter a word, Flamestar had another visitor and he had Sergei to himself. He recognized that smokey tabby and white fur instantly. Valentine. So she was here too. Hopefully she'd stay well out of the way this time. "It's time you paid for your wrongdoings, Sergei. You've really sunk to a new level of insanity, haven't you? Leading these beasts in here and crawling in, hoping to be unsuspected and take some of our medical supplies and our medicine cat? Why we fight for our lives among the dogs and BloodClan? What the hell is wrong with—"

    Before he could finish his sentence, Sergei had used his lean figure to twist his way under Stormchaser's grasp and those reinforced claws. The same claws that had caused him so many of his previous injuries had found their way back to his underbelly. Pain seered through his abdomen as those deadly teeth dug into his flesh. This time, he didn't screech as the pain hit him. A low, guttural growl escaped his maw like a demonic beast and he dug his claws deeper into the leader's flesh. Sergei's weight distribution was correct, and Stormchaser stumbled as his weight lifted from the ashen tom's chest. Stormchaser would not falter though, he would fight like a one man army, threatening to destroy anything that caused any more harm to his home.

    Without another moments notice, Stormchaser lunged at his opponent once more, twisting his bleeding body to slide under Sergei and attempted to knock his legs from up under him. If he succeeded, then ashen warrior would pull his hind legs up in a makeshift guard and aim to wrap his fore legs around the lean tom, attempting to sink his claws in his flank and dig his hind claws into soft belly fur. For some reason, Storm was not the best at head to head fighting. He grew more comfortable fighting on the ground and on his back, using all of his limbs like a machine to fight his opponent.



      BRIARHEART -   CaserDilla   venom.  

    It didn't surprise him to hear that Briarheart had already scraped up some kills. Although her focus was absorbed around Juniperkit, especially in the beginning, she was no warrior to take advantage of. Those who call her beautiful don't understand what actually makes her beautiful. Whiteheart knew what that was. It was her strength that made her such a beautiful cat. The senior warrior would dare say it to Briarheart's face too. In the past, complimenting the fellow senior warrior had been a challenge, since she never cared too much for him. But now, perhaps she would feel differently about it. Even though he noticed that the smile that was resting on her face was faltering when she mentioned that she had killed another cat, Whiteheart knew well enough not to push too far into the details. Now was not the time to think about regret, it was a time to make quick decisions to keep themselves alive. Tossing a cheesy grin over to Briarheart, Whiteheart let out a snort, "You really are beautiful, you know that?" He was taking about how she had managed to take down a dog while having others things to worry about. But behind the excuses, there was more to what he was saying even if he hadn't realized it himself.

    Her next comment struck a nerve. Blazingheart. They needed to go help Blazingheart. Whiteheart had considered doing that while he was headed over to Briarheart. Instead of helping his former apprentice, he abandoned her to save the fellow senior warrior. But he was well aware that Briarheart did not need his assistance; there was something inside of him that automatically made the decision for him. Something deep inside.

    Looking off into the direction Blazingheart had run off towards, Whiteheart narrowed his blue eyes and felt his paws chosing to capture air beneath them. Giving a glance over his shoulder at Briarheart, he wanted to make sure she was coming with him. Sure, going off on his own would have been the appropriate move to make, but he wanted the companionship of the tortoiseshell she-cat. Afterall, she was the better fighter among the two. "I thought I saw her with Spicepool earlier." he commented, informing Briarheart of the details he had seen prior. While he dashed towards the last place he saw his former apprentice, there seemed to be some comfliction racing through the white tomcat's mind. He wanted to feel confident in Blazingheart's skills as a member of ThunderClan, but this was war. In a fight, it doesn't matter how strong one may be, there will always be someone who is stronger. It's the luck of the draw. If Blazingheart chose wrong, she could wind up dead. There was pit in Whiteheart's stomach that was slurping up the confidence one drop at a time. As they drew nearer, the faster the drops came till they were in a steady stream. Dogs were growling and snapping all around him, but there was something not right. There was something inside Whiteheart that was telling him to ignore everything else around him and head to Blazingheart. This feeling was unpleasant. Even before coming across Blazingheart, tears formed in the senior warrior's eyes.

    And then it hit.

    There was a white feline standing over a limp body on the group. This was no Dualeyes or Ivoryskull or Azalea; this was a completely different cat. The tomcat did not recognize her, but her scent was familiar. She was a member of BloodClan, the collar was enough evidence of that. While his claws were already unsheathed, Whiteheart felt like pushing them farther out at the enemy before them. A snarl came over his face as he eyed the foe. But a smell lingered into his nostrils and caused the large, senior warrior to sheath his claws and widen his eyes.

    "Blazingpaw?" his mouth quivered uncontrollable. That's not her name! That's not her name! But the puzzle pieces just weren't fitting the way they were supposed to. Whiteheart hadn't even looked down at the deceased yet. His body felt like there was nothing inside. Emptiness was all that was inside of Whiteheart, as if the inside of the tomcat would have no gravity and everything were to just float around. He couldn't feel his chest taking and pushing out oxygen anymore, he felt like breathing was no longer relavent. A shocked expression stayed on Whiteheart's face for what felt like several minutes until slowly his eyes shifted downwards. They captured the sight of the fire-pelted warrior that was lying lifeless of the ground. And as soon as the puzzle pieces fit, it was like the anti-gravity switch was flipped "OFF". Everything came crashing down with a loud thud. Unlike the anger that surged through his veins when being told of Briarheart's passing, Whiteheart felt complete dispair. The senior warrior crumbled to the ground, splashing tears that stormed his eyes. The ice had melted from his eyes and was flooding everything. A howl of pain erupted from the senior warrior of such agony he was in.


    template by raytonkiwi


    I'll Fall For You, If You'll Fall With Me!



    \\ TAGS.//

  • He spat as he righted himself, a glob of bloody saliva striking the dirt between him and his opponent. His eye widened as Stormchaser spoke, realizing with a start that the other tom thought BloodClan responsible for the dogs. A shiver whipped along his spine— the trail of bloodied prey had been unmistakably deliberate, but not his doing. Who else sought to wreak such terrible havoc on ThunderClan— and why had they not shown their face? Did some even crueler, more chaotic enemy haunt the battlefield?

    Though he was tempted to taunt Stormchaser even further by taking credit for the beasts, the looming knowledge of his own mortality stilled the words in his throat. "We didn't lead the dogs," he spat. But even in the face of death, he was unable to suppress a moment of arrogance. "It seems I'm not the only one who knows how weak ThunderClan is." A fang-flashing grin split his face like lightning, but Stormchaser took his opportunity, and as powerful forelegs suddenly suffocated his flanks a choked cough escaped Sergei's jaws. To make good on the retreat had not yet crossed his mind— Sergei had defeated this tom, could grind his lowly face into the dirt if he chose. Yet for all his self-aggrandizing, it was Stormchaser's claws which now tore into Sergei's vulnerable stomach, and not the other way around. He felt a sudden awareness of all the organs beneath his skin, mere inches from being sliced apart like so much overripe fruit. He was just an animal, not even gifted the same immortality as Flamestar to mark his leadership as divine. His resentment roared higher, determined to burn this cat who dared to be his equal.

    "I'll kill you," he snarled. Half-paralyzed by his opponent's grip, he again spat the blood welling from his mouth at Stormchaser's face. His paws awkwardly immobilized by the position he was held in, he could only lunge downwards with his teeth, aiming blindly for the throat, a shoulder, whatever would give beneath him and paint his jaws red. Whatever would make the hooks in his flesh loosen and fall away.



  • She was a capable warrior, one worthy of praise and renown, but in the chaos of cats and massive beasts thundering around her home, she wasn't so prideful that she would reject a partner. Whiteheart was one she was happy to have by her side, large, strong, he was a bubble of calm in this ever shifting storm; but he was right, this was no time to dwell on morality or justice or guilt, every moment that her paw lay still was another moment one of their enemies may turn their attention on her.
    The affirmation to aid Blazingheart came at a relief, Briarheart planned to run to her either way but Whiteheart was a welcome body guard.

    What she hadn't expected was a goofy grin, one to set her heart fluttering, followed by words she never thought she'd hear spoken again. She was thankful for the blood that coated her face and hid the flush in her ears, thankful for the chaos around to deafen the sound of her pounding heart. What was that all about?! If there was no time for guilt, there was no time for whatever that was!
    To her relief, Whiteheart took off into the battle and she would run hot on his heels, a shadow in the presence of a bull. Deft and nimble paws would carry her easily out of reach of snapping teeth and slicing claws, suffering only a minor bump in her rush out of the camp. What would greet her made her wish she stayed behind.

    What was she going to tell Mintleaf? Cold dismay flowed through her veins, green eyes wide with horror. The red Somali, still an apprentice despite the horrid perversion that was her warrior ceremony, dead. Had she always been so small? In death she looked like little more than a kit. Eyes pricked with the onset of hot tears interupted b the animalistic wail of Whiteheart as he grieved over the body. The corpse. The shell of a cat taken from them much too young. Beyond the tears was a white figure, blood covered her paws and stained them a startling red and in her grasp? A single tooth.
    Dispicable creatures! Monstrous! "She was a child!" A pain filled snarl would rip forth from her own blood covered and scarred muzzle. The tri-color fae took a defensive stance between Whiteheart with the body and Venom, grief clouded her vision but ivory claws remained unsheathed and dug into the blood soaked soil.

    They had both killed in this battle, did that make them equals? Surely not... Briarheart hadn't killed Blazingheart. Oh StarClan, she was dead. How she wished to throw herself at their enemy and shred her, pulling white fur from skin and leaving her own bloody brand in her flesh. But in Whitehearts condition, if a dog or another cat showed up, he would be defenseless! Instead, she stood her ground, blinking back stinging tears, trying her hardest to tune out the keening wails of grief at her back.


    she/her / 30 moons / Trad. ThunderClan Senior Warrior / PENNED BY HARVEST

  • Although Venom had already removed Blazingheart's tooth, her limbs had remained frozen at the scene. For whatever reason, the lifeless gaze of the corpse below her was a captivating one. Venom stood still for what felt like hours, staring dead into her own traumatizing creation. The battle would continue to revolve around her, but whatever crossed Venom's peripherals went in slow-motion. All she could do in the moment was stand and witness the consequences of her actions, feel nothing but the dreadful emptiness of a spiritless body hold her prisoner in a cage of her own making. Thankfully, Venom was slowly able to calm herself. She had come to terms with what she had done (or at least, she thought she had). She had made her bed, and all that was left was to lie in it.

    What pulled Venom out of her trance, however, was not the settling of her own heartbeat, but the burning sensation on her fur that could only be caused by the stare of another. Painfully slowly, Venom raised her head and turned it to the side to see an unfamiliar tom staring right at her. She figured she must have looked akin to the feral hounds running amok in the camp as her features were taken in; with a tooth in her jaws, dilated pupils, blood covering her front half, and heavy breathing, Venom doubted she wanted to know just how unhinged she looked at the moment. Still, though, she had no time to focus on such trivial thoughts. The tom in front of her remained.

    Venom lashed her stark tail as the tom continued to stare. A challenger? Probably not. The feline looked like a deer in the headlights, and at first, Venom felt like she was coming across an old relative she had long forgotten. However, as she watched the tom's wide gaze drift to the body beneath her, everything clicked into place. Ah. A friend? A family member? Whoever he was, Venom figured he would be one of the cats to watch Blazinglife be put in the ground, if not doing the dirty work himself. She almost pitied him. The sight was otherwise truly heartwrenching- the tears that had long since brimmed the edges of his eyes finally spilled over as he collapsed to the ground, a cry of sheer agony escaping his maw in the process. Venom bit back a flinch. Right now, she was watching the consequences of her actions all unfold before her. Yet, what was she to do, in the midst of it all? Apologize?

    The white molly turned away from the other tom, unwilling to spend any time feeling sorry for him or trying to do something about him. That wasn't her job. Attacking him would accomplish nothing anyway, since Sergei had ordered the retreat. However, as she did so, another feline, this time a molly, intercepted her once more. Tears brimmed her eyes as well, but unlike the tom, she did not crumple. Instead, she situated herself in between them, like a mother protecting a vulnerable kit, to snarl words that had already echoed within Venom's mind countless times. She was a child. The alabaster feline's pupils expanded as she came to a resolution. She could not change what happened, and right now, she was done feeling sorry for others and herself. The molly put down the tooth in her mouth and looked back up at Briarheart. "Maybe so," Venom responded, voice clear but cold and unfeeling. "But what does that change?" She looked back down at the lifeless body. "She instigated the attack. She didn't listen when I told her she would die fighting. She fought me with the intent to take me down, and I responded in kind. I just happened to come out on top." Venom looked back up at the other molly with a challenging glare, voice unwavering.

    White Lion   BRIARHEART -