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  • There had been sightings of a few small dogs as of late, Scamp being one of the few to first notice it along with other rogues in this place. At first, it was just one. One small breed trying to grab a piece from the prey from the fresh-kill pile of theirs in the camp. Then another. And another. The first dog had started to form a small pack of others about their size. Hovering at the edge of the town that the rogues and BloodClan call home, dancing in hunger for more. Their gnashing teeth and claws dig into the earth and soon, as if having just been let go of their invisible leashes, start running towards the camp of the town, letting out sounds of yips and barks at the exciting prospect of taking on anyone that moves to be their prey for the night. Everything smaller than them is fair game, felines included.

  • ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ - 14 ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱ - ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ

    ic text

    borderline was the first to visibly complain. "well aren't you annoying. don't you know you should shut your trap during the evenings, when people are trying to sleep?" she huffed, rolling her eyes and walked towards the middle of the camp for no reason at all, where she spun in a circle and sat down. "These furbrains need to be stopped." then she heard barking and practically howling. "Wha-?" then the smell hit her. her fur shot up immediately. "DOG!" she howled, hopping to her feet, talons unsheathing.

    oc text


    testing, testing, one, two, three

    25hz's manager

    New song dropping soon

    The post was edited 1 time, last by 25hz's manager ().

  • A chorus of yips and yaps in the distance made his stomach churn. Dogs. They were impossible not to notice, even from a distance away. "Not just one of 'em." Observed the tom as he got to his paws carefully, angling his ears to listen. "We've got company." However, from the sound of them, they were small in size. They did not possess the spine-tingling, booming barks that larger breeds did. Nonetheless, the smaller dogs were little rats and, in some cases, were even more ferocious and persistent than bigger dogs were. It was time to show these mutts who was in charge around here.

    Ever-headstrong and reckless, Jersey rushed out into the street with green eyes glistening and with teeth bared. The fur along his spine bristled. A few other cats had split the attention of the dog group, leaving him to deal with a small, curly-haired white one. It wasn't intimidating in the slightest; if anything, this looked like an upwalker's precious little lap-dog.

    The dog yapped nonstop towards Jersey, little legs carrying it forward. "Who do you think you're barkin' at, Snowball?" The bi-colored tom sneered before ducking towards the side and leading the canine on a chase towards one of the alleyways. When Jersey was close enough, he banked off the side of a building and barrelled into it's side, causing it to yelp in surprise.


    *:・゚✧ ━━━━━━━━━━━ 「 BLOODCLAN . 25 MONTHS . TAGS

  • — My god, did they ever shut up?!? Their ears were assaulted by the obnoxious cries of the pack of dogs barreling towards their camp, a hiss escaping their maw. Claws digging at the ground, before they launched theirself towards the nearest dog aiming to slam down on top of it and dig their claws into its skin.


    Made using Picrew by parcidinonyx (I hope I didn't butcher their name) ^-^

  • ✦ ✧ ✦ The distant barking of dogs had Waspwing on edge all morning, the black tabby finding it hard to leave the safety of the looming shadow of the courthouse. It was safe here, under the courthouse roof, but as Waspwing ventured out into the courtyard to get some fresh air, the yowls of Jersey and other Bloodclanners made her fur stand on end.

    Dogs. Small ones, but through and through ruffian canines, had intruded into camp. A few of her clanmates had started to fight, claws digging into coarse fur. She had hurried after Jersey, limber legs carrying her after the bi-colored tom. She appeared from the shadows, bright yellow eyes locking on the yelping white dog. "Watch out!" Waspwing chirped as she attempted to sink her teeth into one of the dog's limbs, hopefully getting it down onto the ground so that Jersey could pounce on it.




  • Dogs. The shout of them invading their home sent a shock through the older tom's body. He hadn't thought that canines would still be around. Usually twolegs took them with them and didn't leave them but here and now he was wrong. The large brutish male would move out of the Stone Den with his one yellow eye wide. That was when it hit him look a rock and all he could feel were teeth tearing into his shoulder. A yowl of pain that he didn't realize was leaving his jaws filled the air and his own teeth became fixed in the side the dog's face. Blood splattered the ground as his claws racked against the canine's muzzle so that the mutt would release him. And release him it did with a howl of agony. The tom laid upon the ground gasping softly, struggling to get back up on his paws. Old...he was too old for this and his body was so sluggish. Pike. Where was Pike?


  • * In a mirror tarnished by scratches and mud, he saw himself. He'd met his own gaze more times than he could count in this mirror, at times obsessively examining his own appearance for the sake of it. An ear twisted backward to catch the echoing bays of a snarling pack, but it was a sound he was far too familiar with to pay it any mind. He was busy tracing his curved borders between black and white, stark boundaries that finished in a flecked burst between his eyes. His ear flicked again; Were those yipping dogs getting louder? He chucked a glare over his shoulder, from his place in the room's corner he recognized the discomfort buzzing between the scattered felines; A hivemind response to the approaching calamity he'd failed to engage in. He never would have thought those mangy mutts could ever lay siege to the city's capital— the undertakings of dogs weren't often something Sinclair found himself ruminating on.

    Needless to say, the screaming of 'DOG' sent the fur along his spine bristling at once, and from his place in the corner, he watched the masses scatter like flies when a scrappy brown beast barrelled into the room. "OHH NO—!" He sputtered aimlessly, body low to the ground while slitted pupils sought the striped fur of his friend. Where was he? He bit his tongue to keep from hysterically calling the tabby's name, but during his frantic search he'd caught the beast's eye; idle prey. "AAAA!" A cry joined the symphony of chaos while he scampered across the marbled floor, black tail whipping behind him as he fled the jaws snapping at his heels. His gaze landed on the height of a chair, and with thundering paws he veered sharply, leaping onto the cushion with not a shred of grace to his manner. "AGH—! Go away!" He hissed as the mutt sprang wildly from below, front paws scraping desperately on the chair's ledge. He aimed thwacks at the beast's nose with a furious vigour, face twisted in terror as deafening barks sprayed spit at his paws.

  • Vortex heard the barking, and immediatly rushed to Stitches. "C'mon! We gotta go somewhere safe- " His head whipped up as he heard a scuffle near Scorpion. The tom blinked a 'Stay Safe' to the she-cat, before bounding to Scorpion. The black cat spotted a small mutt and tried to leap on it, claws unsheathed. He vigrously scratched what ever he could, attempting to blind the dog and drag it away. He sunk his claws into its ear, and it let out a wail as he sunk his canines into the dogs neck, not letting go until the dog stopped breathing. Vortex's muzzle was covered with blood and he bounded up to Scorpion. "Are you alright? Here, let me help you." He pressed his flank against the older tom's, walking to a safer place in the camp. "Ill be back." He rushed out, searching for Stitches, calling her name.

  • [ IT TRULY WAS A CRUEL THING ] Dogs? There are really dogs here. Ugh, those annoying beasts are a nuisance to deal with. A total nightmare if they are the bigger kind. It would spell death for them, for certain. She's frozen in the middle of the open pathway of the town. She can sees those yipping and yapping loud creatures running at them, her clanmates and the rogues rushing back at the dogs. Fighting and sounds of yowl of battle cries ring out in the air, an orchestra of horrible music. The pack looks to be plentiful, but it's not very large, thankfully.

    A sudden screech interrupts her jumbled thoughts and her head snaps to see her business partner on top of a chair, dancing out the reach of a mutt. He don't seems intent on fighting it head on like the other warriors with their claws. Her mind's racing through the fog. Should she go save him? Life would be terribly boring if he died. But she don't really know how to fight either. What can she do with a mutt? She might need someone to back her up. But everyone else is busy . . .The gray feline glances around, starting to feel her body being jittery, but forced herself to calm down. Now is not the time to show her weakness. She is in plain daylight, in the open. She can't afford to let down her image. So she makes a choice. She runs for Sinclair.

    "Hey Master Birdie, guess you're not as good at fighting as trading!" A forced yell-laughter comes from her throat as she tries to jump on the mutt on its back and digs her sharp claws into its flanks. The canine yelps as it discovers a new enemy attacking them and their attention is diverted from Sinclair on the chair as they jumps around, trying to shake off Paradox. "You annoying fleabag, you really smell worst than rotten fish!" A snarky insult is made at the dog, but she doubts it would understand her anyway. The dog continues to snarl and jumps around, shaking vigorously and she can feels her grip loosing the more it shakes. She don't believe in no StarClan, but Starclan helps her, these creatures are worst than bugs and she hates bugs.

    When the dog pauses in their movement to catch a quick break, the tabby uses this opportunity to jump off and aims to make a bit in its tail. StarClan, the tail tastes like a matted fur of mangly awfulness! She coughs as she makes her hard bite and scrambles away, coughing contentiously to shake off the bad taste of the fur. "Birdie, please tell me you can fight a little at least."



  • Venom's body had been still with slumber before the chaos ensued, cozied up in a corner in the camp. Whether or not she had been dreaming, she wouldn't remember, as the screech of the word "DOG!" would serve as its own makeshift surge of adrenaline that would send Venom reeling to her paws before she was even fully awake. Eyes wide despite the sleep that still tugged at their lids, the alabaster feline would swerve her head around in the direction of the call, although she would smell and hear the dogs long before seeing them. It made no difference, however, as it didn't take long for Venom to be on full alert for anyone in need of help. Yet, once again, she would hear a clanmate's distress call before seeing who it belonged to; she didn't need to. She would recognize the shrill, panicked note anywhere, and like a bullet, she was rushing in its direction immediately. "Of course."

    The sight before her would have sparked amusement if it weren't for the newfound adrenaline and determination rushing through her veins. Sinclair, to no surprise, was perched on a chair, having blindly swiped at a dog's nose before Paradox arrived at the scene to help. At the moment, the mutt's tail was firmly grasped in her mouth (Venom almost pitied Paradox, the smell must have been awful), but it wasn't long before the feline released her grip to cough away the taste. The moment she did so, she put herself at risk of the dog turning on her. Luckily, Venom would interfere before that happened. Sinclair maybe didn't know how to fight, but that's what Venom was there for, right? Wordlessly, she would pounce forward, muscles rippling, to barrel into the dog's torso, using her entire weight to bring it down and her paws to hold it in its writhing and snapping position on the ground. It took nearly all the strength Venom had to keep it pinned and there wasn't much her position allowed her to do. The molly would look to the side and at Paradox to ask for a favor, "You mind finishing this thing off?"

  • [ IT TRULY WAS A CRUEL THING ] It seems someone had joined the battle. Para's fortunate that someone is here now, someone far more skillful. Still gagging at the taste, she can see through narrow eyes of a somewhat familiar clanmate - Venom. She's not someone that the tabby had talked enough to, unfortunately, but that may change in the future. For now, she's just thankful that this strong BloodClanner is using the brute strength of her and doing the most work here. Compared to Sinclair. "Yeah, of cour -" A cough. "- se, sweetie. Anything for the least -" Another cough. "- cowardly BloodClanner here." It's a teasing comment as she clears her own fits and quickly makes her way over to where the ripper is, holding down the canine that continues to thrash around. Better get this over with and try to handle the rest of the dogs as well.

    Standing besides the molly, she gazes at the ragged canine for a moment. Ugh, she would have to bite again in that matty ugly fur. What a horrible furball, who allowed these annoying creatures to exist? Her nose wrinkles a little but she would forces herself to do it. As much as she may enjoy chaos, she do not want to die. She deals the killing blow to the mutt and soon, it goes lifeless beneath them. She spitting out the fur and her focus lingers on Venom for a moment before turning to Sinclair still on the chair. "Alright, birdie, when you coming down or what?"



  • dogs... dogs. the smell, the sound. cracks through the sky, howls, rattling through the young cat's pelt like a jolt of lightning. there was already fighting, she could smell the blood. unease and terror twisted at her stomach, doubt of an escape. questioning if she could even assist in the battle.

    "i - i uh" she could move quickly. widow was no fighter, no experience lay behind the virgin claws and teeth of an alley stray. memories of dogs pinning her to the brick of an alley, slick escapes under tangles of legs and gnashing of teeth. widow wasn't a fighter, she was a runner, which could be of more help than these foreign cats knew. they valued bloodshed over safety, glory over purpose.

    a bi-colored streak, running at a small grouping away from flurries of claws and hisses. the tearing of flesh under her paws, the slight warm pulse of blood stinging at scratches on her paw pads would have to be ignored. the dog in front her whipped a grayed and scarred muzzle around. hot stinking breath mixing with the anxious sick already laying within the molly's stomach. a queasy boiled, something like rage and determination shattered for reason. why had she attacked the dog, why did you do this.

    her heart was shaking, not unlike the frozen legs underneath her. shivering as if she had been plunged in the lake at the cusp of the cold season. the animal snarled, it's fat wrinkled lip rolling over yellowed canines. all widow could do was swallow, laying her ears tight to her skull, and turning. she could feel it, the wind on her tail as it reached out to grab her a breath too late. widow was sprinting, a canine tight on her path. the lumbering footsteps could be felt with every moment, the black femme trying desperately to count the difference.

    was it sacrificial or stupidity.



    widow + senior warrior of bloodclan + tags

  • ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ - 14 ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱ - ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ

    ic text

    out of the corner of her eye, she saw a multicolored thing streak past her, chased by a huge canine. she hissed and gave chase, forcing herself onwards and outrunning the beast and matching her pace to widow's. "Do you know how to climb?" stupid question, but it was probably the only way she could help widow get out alive. borderline was confident about her capability of surviving against a dog, but widow seemed like she knew next to nothing about battle.

    //interacting with WIDOW


    testing, testing, one, two, three

    25hz's manager

    New song dropping soon

  • someone was... beside her. running alongside her. the feeling was so foreign she nearly forgot where she was for a second, blinking and waking up to the rhythmic thud of paws again the ground. the seal point cried out to her, a question. this femme was trying to help her, though widow couldn't quite understand why.

    "i can - if you provide - perch." out of breath quick spotting of a reply, dim blue eyes darting to borderline. surely widow couldn't look that desperate for help, though perhaps the red splashing her chest did hint at some sort of injury under a thick black pelt. if only she had the energy to yell out again, assure the other that the blood was not her own.

    though at the same time... the footsteps grew ever closer, the click of non-retractable claws threatening to impale the young cats. perhaps this feline had been sent to her in her hour of need, she had heard the silent cry. either way, they were now in this chase together.

    // 25hz's manager



    widow + senior warrior of bloodclan + tags

  • ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ - 14 ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱ - ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ

    ic text

    she could climb. good. "Wall." she pointed with her chin, in the direction of the twoleg place, which (OC: hopefully?) wasn't very far away. "We've got two options," her flank heaved as she maintained pace and spoke at the same time, though she knew she couldn't stop because she could see red on the other's chest. "Tree, or wall and hope that a twoleg comes and gets it. Then we circle around so it doesn't smell us returning."


    testing, testing, one, two, three

    25hz's manager

    New song dropping soon

  • * Rescue comes in the form of Paradox, pelting wildly over the marble towards the dog that was currently terrorizing him through a slew of deafening yapping and snapping. Her laughter sailed over the cacophony of barks and cries alike, the scrabbling of blunt claws against marble ringing high into the lofty baldachins. 'Hey master birdie, guess you're not as good at fighting as trading!' He was pressed to the back of the chair, spine curved into a stiff, bristling arch. No, clearly not. "Stop calling me that!" He demanded helplessly, watching wide-eyed as the dog whirled around to snap at Paradox, who had secured herself onto the thick skin of its back. He bore witness to the rampageous configuration of bucking and biting, helpless to tear his eyes from the unfolding display of utter chaos at his paws. He couldn't move if he wanted to; all four sets of claws had absentmindedly curled into the velvety plush of the chair underfoot. 'Please tell me you can fight a little at least.' She'd be met with his besmitten stare and a slack-jawed shake of the head.

    Trembling glare tumbled to the blinding pelt of Venom, crimson meeting green only before she had swiftly injected herself into the battle. It almost scared him, how briskly she had incapacitated the mutt. An explosion of white meeting brown as she overpowered it; for all her shortness she was no less muscular than any other Bloodclanner— just packed more tightly. He came to that realization as Paradox finished it off, a trace of red dashing the dreary concord of grey, white, and brown. He tried to move upon being invited down, and for a moment he mistook his anchored paws for paralysis. Oh. He unhooked curling ivory from the cushion, carelessly yanking his paw from its place with a wince. Ow. "Agh— I'm coming... Hold on," He hopped onto the stony floor, weak legs unprepared for the solidity of the ground. He slunk behind them, keeping far from the dog's corpse for he was ever squeamish. "I'll thank you later," he promised breathlessly, flinching when a distant bark echoed from a neighbouring room.

  • [ IT TRULY WAS A CRUEL THING ] Eventually, Sinclair did come down from the chair, but it's not without a long hesitation and stares from where he stands, looking down at Venom and her with uncertainty, fear, and squeamish feelings. A sigh lets out as the tuxedo feline lands on the ground and slinks his way over to them, clearly flinching at the sound of echoing dog barks. "Hah, I think you would make a great bait for them. A birdie trying to run away while those fleabags chase him, that'd make a good performance to see, haha. What you think?" Para would turn to look at Venom as she makes her comment. She gazes down at the dead canine for a moment and then takes a quick look at her fur. Ew, she would stink of dogs for sunrises. "Don't think all those fleabags gone yet, down for another hunt?" An eye raises at the other female before making a glance at the businessman. Well, one cat certainly would not be too happy with this idea.



  • victoria's ear's shot up when the announcement of canines coming towards the hall. she did knew she had to get to somewhere high and fast. the others were charging at the dogs without mercy, since the beasts were going for the kill. the grey feline scanned the room she was in; trappers den. the window ledge was high enough. yips and hisses were ringing in her ears. her heartbeat beating out of her chest. high pitch ringing blocked out any noise.

    it felt like her body just took over its own, racing towards the door. her only sight locked onto the front hallway. seeing dogs running forth and cats attacking. Some of other clan members were out of the hall. darting quickly, thankful for her long limbs for this moment. she felt herself low to the ground, her ears pinned. "Some of the fleabags are inside," the molly called out.

    in the end when all is said and done

    in the end we learn to overcome

    in the end we'll sing our final song

    we forgive, we forget and move on

    female | long-furred grey tabby | member of bloodclan

    20 months |information | victoria is written by elekrel

  • The barks of the dogs set him on edge, fur bristling and pacing in wait for the impending doom. He, for one, didn't know how to fight. He was never trained in it, at least, and he's never really had the need to. He lived a simple life thus far: hanging out with the businessman, attempts to hunt if needed, and examining weird objects he'd find around town. It was relatively peaceful despite the perceived chaos that BloodClan had given themselves a reputation for. Was there anyone in BloodClan who actively sought to be evil nowadays? They were merely trying to make the best out of their short lives.

    The moment the dogs burst in, with him on his anticipating toes, he had two choices: to fight or to flee. Any reasonable cat his size (not small, but built thinly) would run away and save their own hides. Was it the Clanner in him that wanted to help though? Would he just be another bait or an obstacle to those who actually could fight? With a quick glance around the room, he quickly identified Sinclair being assisted by Venom and Paradox, not far from himself. He darted there, sparing a glance to the dead mutt before turning to the tuxedo. "Let's get out of here," he suggested, though, if Sinclair, for whatever reason, did not or could not move, he supposed he'd just have to see a few more dogs in his lifetime than he wanted.

    "speaking in #daa520"

    - tags -




    ⋇ ⋆ ☀ ⋆ ⋇


    mikhail | bloodclan kit | melo-crisis

  • "Insanity."

    — Stitches


    Watching the chaos unfold before her beady eyes, Stitches sat comfortably above the raiding dogs and the cats who fought them off. Her paws shuffled excitedly as unsheathed claws swung at the ugly invaders, adrenaline rushing through the small feline's body. As they collided, her yellow stare intensified and her heart thumped rapidly against her rib cage, encouraging Stitches to the edge she was perched on. Watching Paradox and Venom shred through the mutts was a treat and maybe their strength and fighting prowess made it look too easy as Stitches found herself launching off her safe ledge.

    "I'm gonna get you!" she exclaimed loudly into the air as she unsheathed her claws and aimed to land square on one of the bigger dog's back. Stitches wasn't the kind who found enjoyment in killing, in fact if she starred too long at it or thought too hard at it, she would actually begin to shudder from the unsettling feeling that scratched her mind. However, she had a love for chaos and the unorthodox. Creating and partaking in something that was not expected and that to her was living. Now, with her claws sunk in the back of her enemy she laughed manically, riding the thrashing mutt as if it was suppose to be a sport. "Good luck trying to knock me off, I've had more stubborn friends than you!" she held on tight as her small body was swung around.