Posts by Sootstorm

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]oh hey guys
uh my moms hysterical rn and everyone's freaking out and shits just uh happening
so if I'm not here for the next few days.. Rip

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]im having a very difficult time right now
can someone please pm me

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]"You're a BloodClanner. BloodClanners have no moral, no code; you kill, we do not. Just because you as an individual choose not to kill this time doesn't change where your alliance lies, or how your alliance does things. So consider your little change of heart useless." came the deep, rumbling voice of Sootstorm, answering Glide easily -- the familiar male padded up, his muscled form dark and camouflaged when put against the deep hues that decorated DarkClan's little forest territory. His yellow eyes gleamed brightly as he did so, and once the SkyClanner appeared, larger than any forest cat or city cat, he did a little parody of a wave at the BloodClanners. "Hello again. It's Nathaniel." it was in the heat of a fiery battle that even Sootstorm, who had been depressed as the days went on following his own daughter's birthing, found joy. Which was why he smiled so brightly at the enemy that gathered, pathetically attacking a clan that was more often than not seen as the weakest. Easy target, but it would yet again prove to give them a bad reputation, notnthat they cared. "You guys aren't so smart, letting a SkyClanner into your city, teaching them your ways, letting them eat your prey, listen in to what goes on? Huh! Wait till the other clans hear about this!" his voice was enthusiastic, like he'd just found the plumpest bird in the forest and was proud to share it with his clan. "Then you'll have ThunderClanners, WindClanners, RiverClanners, and ShadowClanners also sneaking in, too! For a group that prides themselves on being the mightiest and the most cunning, you guys aren't very decisive when it comes to picking out the frauds from the real joiners."

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]"If you're just cats in a city, why call yourself a clan? See, you make little sense; clans are organized groups, and from your statement, a complete stranger can infer that BloodClan isn't even a group, just cats that live in a city." Sootstorm replied, scoffing slightly -- did this tom know what he was saying? Clearly, he didn't. For someone who apparently had morals, his brain seemed the size of the prey that the clan cats fed on, and Sootstorm looked beside himself with perpetual amusement and a misplaced calm. The battlefield was the only place outside SkyClan's forest and Mothdust's nest that he felt the most relaxed, and it showed, with how he looked less tense than the other cats, and instead of his ears lying flat on his wide cranium, they lay upright, perked in alarm, there to hear the sounds of potential attackers. "Tear me to shreds? I know all your little tricks, BloodClanner, and if you hadn't realized, I'm bigger than most all of you. Try me, unless you want your ugly little heads crushed in and dumped in the same metal objects that two-legs dump their stuff in." while he was somewhat exaggerating the lengths at which his power reached, he really wasn't bluffing. If any of them tried to approach him with the intent to attack, they'd be sorely outmatched; he was a very large mainecoon, the product of being a purebred, and had stronger legs and SkyClan tricks from which the likes of them hadn't the smarts to use or expect. Being a former spy himself, he knew how the BloodClanners worked, knew how they fought. He was truly a difficult opponent. "It appears I was right about you. You aren't smart. SkyClan is here to drive you fox-hearts out, and if you refuse, we can always just bring in the other clans and take you out once and for all. You say that it's petty, and we say that it's efficient. After all, while you're a big group, you're outnumbered by all of the forest clans put together, and it's rather amusing to see you all scatter like mice when you know you're about to get beaten." at one of the DarkClanner's nods, the male would stand upright and nod in their direction.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]If Sheograth had voiced his opinions, Sootstorm would've gotten angry; the idea that he was lesser than Stonejaw never went well with him, no matter if the male was still his deputy or not. However, as the BloodClanner prepared for attack, he found his eyes merely sliding over him. After all, the cat had been at the head of this raid, and not the leader, so it wasn't particularly hard to miss him or his bright, eccentric collar; how foolish of him, bringing such a showy thing in battle. It would only give him away. And it did -- as soon as Sootstorm looked away, huffing, colors flashed across his vision and he suddenly saw Sheo lunge for him before attacking. In time, just in time, the male dropped and rolled to the side, feigning away quickly enough to dodge the male's first attack. Rolling onto his back, as the smaller cat jumped over him, Sootstorm would attempt to bring his stronger back legs up and kick the male hard into a tree or onto the ground somewhere nearby while he was in the air, letting out a small, breezy sigh as he did so. While he scarcely believed that Sheograth was, well, the actual Sheograth, simply because it was not only impossible but ridiculous, he'd thought that the feline would have enough sense to try not to pick the strongest tom out in battle again, lest he had a death wish.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]That was a lie. All cats, when put up together, would either win or lose; come out on top, or fall to the bottom -- no cat was evenly matched, or as skilled as one another, because eventually, only one would always have to win and one would always have to suffer the scars of their losses. There was nothing else to it. And if Sheograth were to claim that he were cocky, he would simply be a hypocrite; the male strolled around BloodClan and SkyClan territory as if it were his, claiming to be the strongest cat in the world when it was the exact opposite. Sootstorm wasn't right in thinking he was better, but practical -- he'd had training from cats of new and old, both in the Darkforest and in the living world. Not only that, but he was so unusually large as a result of both his trainings and his purebred family that it was only natural that he thought he had a heavy advantage over cats, because he did. While there was no doubt a larger tom in the world, at the moment, he proclaimed to be the largest tom out of all of the clans simply because he had yet to see someone even an inch over him.

The male, still rolled onto his back, would watch carefully as Sheograth picked himself up and and circled him. His belly was open, and it would only be soon before Sheograth leaped forward, seeing a chance to rip his claws through the flesh beneath, but he was being more strategic than foolish. Playing stupid was a game, you see; if your opponent thought that he had an advantage, let him go in for the kill but then show him otherwise. Which is what he did. Sheograth was soon diving forward, aiming a blow at Sootstorm's chest, which Sootstorm countered by throwing his front paw over his own broad upper abdomen, so that the male only sliced through his leg, something easily salvageable with herbs. Sheograth's next paw came for his head, and he aimed to bite into said paw, keeping it from hurting him. He dug his teeth in as hard as he could, relishing in the blood that he could feel swell into his mouth.

Assuming that Sheograth would pull away sooner or later, leading to his next attack, Sootstorm knew that his attempted bite would leave Sheograth's paw in pain for weeks, if not a moon or two. His own leg was bleeding from the male's attack, but not anything that he couldn't handle -- after all, the male hadn't even tried to hurt him that badly. At this point, Sootstorm was confident that he'd return to SkyClan without any horrible injuries, to the possible enlightenment of Mothdust, who he'd greet immediately. Thinking of her in those moments of a heated battle, Sootstorm would stand a little straighter, feeling more sanguine in this fight for as long as the pretty she-cat's face was still carved out in the abyss of his clouded mind. Already having flipped up onto his legs, poised and ready, the male would watch carefully as Sheograth again lunged forth, trying to move underneath him as if he were an agile WindClanner. Unfortunately, he was not. He was slower and less versatile, more built for the thrill of the kill than the thrill of the run, outlasting your opponent and to be cunning and tricky.

Sootstorm would let Sheograth do his thing, however, pretending to be slow and dumb as the male started his attack, before jumping forward at the last minute, his powerful hind legs propelling him far too high for the smaller male to swipe him out of the air. Despite the lack of trees, the rocky surroundings of DarkClan's caves proved to act like more stable trees; so easily, the male would cling to the wall briefly before scrambling up it, a screeching sound coming from the contact of his claws against the only partially smooth, hard surface, before he was suddenly leaping backwards, and then twisting through the air, until he was in a good enough position to attempt to land on Sheograth's back, weighing him down enough to where the male could bend forward while clinging to the cat's form with his claws and aim to bite into the root of the male's tail, lurching forward and trying to tear it out, with how deep he was biting into it (it should be said that Sootstorm was backwards on Sheo, so instead of him facing his head and targeting his neck, he was facing his behind instead). But, if this attack didn't work, the male would instead land smoothly on all four paws to the ground.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Sootstorm crashed, but as a SkyClanner, he'd been taught to defend himself against such things, so even when he landed on the ground, his claws hitting the hard cave floor instead of flesh, he leaned into his hind legs and willed himself to balance so he wouldn't fall face first, bracing his ears flat against the sides of his cranium as the screeching sound from his claws scoring the stone fled through his ears loudly. However, that did not keep him from attacking, and he went for Sheograth's tail, his attack successful. Unfortunately for the male, Sootstorm didn't have a tail, so there was nothing to bite on, although Sheo's hind legs hit his belly and merely tickled him, only light, minor scratches surfacing, as his fur thickened in his belly area, almost like a defensive barrier. He didn't move though; being such a large cat, a smaller cat like Sheograth, who was also young, could only shift him, but not completely barrel him over.

Once Sheo moved away, Sootstorm would stand, only barely bleeding from minor injuries on his stomach, but bleeding a bit heavier on his leg. Compared to Sheograth, Sootstorm was faring just as fine, if not better. Being less of an aggressive opponent and more of a defensive one, the male would drag a tongue over his large maw, before deciding to drag it briefly across his injured leg, his eyes focused on Sheograth all while he did this, waiting for him to attack again. The adrenaline was kicking in slower for him.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]"Yeah, we should go. They're gone, and nobody was seriously hurt, which is what matters." the male would say, looking at the smaller form of Cherrypaw briefly before changing his mind abruptly. Twitching his ear, the senior warrior would look around briefly before figuring out that Thrush and Stone were nowhere to be seen; while it was understandable because his daughter had kits to take care of, Stonejaw should be here, at least. Snorting at the thought, Sootstorm would change his mind at the last minute. "Actually, follow me. Since Stonejaw and Thrushstar aren't here, we mind as well ask around, see if everyone is okay and if they need any further help. Help me find Cherrystar, would you? We followed him here, but he seems to have gone."

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 450px;]Could you do Sootstorm? His appearance is in his signature + the spoiler below. Just a note that he has no tail, and he's a maine coon :^)

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]SCREEN NAME : Wafture
CHARACTER NAME : Sootstorm
CHARACTER REFERENCE : In ths spoiler in my signature!
OTHER/NOTES/ETC : He's pretty grumpy/aggressive/depressed, so any of those expressions would be okay! He's also a great big furry maine coon, so if you wanted to exaggerate that it's perfectly fine w/ me!

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Just applied for Sootstorm to be the next leader of WindClan! Crossing my fingers because ohoho I'm nervous

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman];^)

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Unfortunately enough, Mac isn't here with Thrushstar, and we need to finish the Exile part of Sootstar's plot ASAP. Does anyone have any ideas? I was thinking that Stone could outright confront Soot about the prophecy and that he knows his attentions (we can assume that he had hurt a bunch of cats prior that came forth to Stone and told him what happened/that Soot hurt them), and they end up getting in a fight, with the others hopefully pulling them off of each other right before Stonejaw announces his exile. Sootstorm goes, and then later on(?) he shows up on SkyClan border to attack them with WindClan in tow.

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]quick track oops

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]When people died, it was common for their bodies to grow cold; after all, there was no soul left in them to warm it with good company, right? That's what Sootstorm believed. It was only a pity -- a great one, in fact -- that he had to be the one to take such a thing from someone. But believe him, he had done it before, and as long as his teeth were still sharp and so were his claws, he'd no doubt do it again. Even if he didn't particularly enjoy it, as while some felt power when sucking the life from another, he only felt empty, like the moors that had surrounded him and the WindClanner when the tom had been foolish enough to approach him with means of aggression. It was only expected that Sootstorm was the winner. After all, he was bigger, and much more tactical, which meant that the WindClanner's play on his own speed did less than nothing to him in the near end. StarClan guide him; he needed it.

Walking to the WindClan camp was more of a trek than it was a stroll. Which was expected, when he carried a smaller, thin body on his broad shoulders, his mate beside him, where she belonged; he felt shame at expressing such violent actions in front of her very eyes, eyes that he adored with a fiery passion, but no word had come to him yet of her distaste. That did little to ease his worries, however. Thankfully he had been smart enough to wash the blood and the scent of the WindClan leader from his body, cleansed as if the occurrence had never, well, never occured. As he did not wish to alarm the clanners; to make their eyes narrow as if they were seeing an enemy when he appeared. No. As their new -- as their rightful leader, it was his utmost priority to ease the common folk, as chaos -- no matter his past actions and wrongdoings -- was the least of what he or they needed right now. Need he mention how tired he was, to put up with more questions than he had thoughts in his head. "WindClan." his voice was strong, firm. He had found confidence in the knowledge that he had retained the past night. Even if he would've had confidence anyways.

Padding into their camp, the male would crouch, trying to ease the corpse of their leader onto the ground with precise caution, his eyes slipping from their usual cold decisiveness to a more grave coldness, as if he had been a warrior that had lost his friend on the battlefield. For all these WindClanners knew, that was exactly what had happened. "I come to you with grave news. Your leader, Otterstar, is with StarClan now. I and my mate had been suffering many losses after our departure from SkyClan, so we came here for shelter. Your leader was happy to provide it, but before we could come to camp, we were ambushed by wretched rouges. In order to defend you all, we all fought, but while I tried my hardest to prevent it, your leader lost his life before I could aid him, or anyone could aid him, for that matter. I've come to both relay another message from StarClan, and for you to grieve your leader. But before I say anything else, I'd prefer if you payed your respects. This loss is great, after all."

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]sticky
https://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2481541.0

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]For the most part, the WindClanners barely questioned anything. It was good, most obviously, that such a thing was to happen -- he needn't want to provoke them and cause an uproar, after all. "My name is Sootstorm. I came here from SkyClan because our corrupt deputy had exiled me based on speculation and lies alone; but it is good that I am away. Another day with him is another day I'm spent wishing for the sweet release of death." his voice was dry, but considerably friendly for someone who had a reputation for being a grump. He nodded to the apprentice named Applepaw, before out of the blue, a hiss sounded and a tone like venom sought passage through his perked ears. "As I had implied before, we successfully chased the rouges off of the territory, as it was only a patrol of them and nothing more. It is greatly disappointing that Otterstar's life was ended in the process; but, as you will soon find, it is all for the good of the clan." his voice was calm, steady. He didn't feed the she-cat's obvious suspicions, instead holding her eyes for but a minute before addressing the others. "If you're not lying, surely you wont have his fur in your claws. Hm? Lift your paws, please." Did he retain the right to be somewhat irritated by the question? While it was within their rights to inquire, they did so with hostility that was not needed now, where StarClan watched from above and their leader's body lay dead beside Sootstorm's very paws. However, he complied. Lifting his paw up, the only fur that remained on his paws was the fur of the SkyClan deputy, and after trekking through every territory between SkyClan and WindClan, it had become masked, unable to be distinguishable, and easy enough to be believed to be of a rouge's pelt. However, as said before, he had made careful movements, movements that removed all evidence of his and the WindClan leader's quarrel from his own body. "As you wish. A fruitless gesture, but one of good faith nonetheless. Now, are you through with interrogating me, or should you mourn the more pressing matter at paw? The death of your leader. To not would be a great disrespect." his voice was still the same firm, even tone; he did not dilute himself with buying into the tricks and games of others.

After stepping back for a few minutes, the male would let the cats mourn. Eventually, however, he stepped up, and in turn finally provided an answer to Freckleface's inquiry. "The message StarClan sent me is pressing, and given to me personally by your leader, Otterstar. In a dream he spoke of choosing me to be WindClan's next leader, if only because Maplefur is not yet ready to ascend to leadership, and because of my loyalty in battle despite having been from another clan, and being relatively new to WindClan. While I'd accept any objections to it, I'm afraid that I cannot bend StarClan's will even if I wanted to. And if you need proof, your medicine cat can provide it by coming along with me to receive my nine lives. If I come back without them, then I am undeserving, but if I do come back with them, you'll know to believe me. Are these terms agreeable, or would you rather prod me further, ask for proof that I could barely give, as I am not StarClan and cannot send you a sign other than the one I had just offered prior?"

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Kits. Something that he had many of, but had lost recently, whether it be leaving his daughter in the paws of a ridiculous deputy or losing the children he and Mothdust been expecting. So forgive him for being somewhat softer on these two, so out of character for a normally harsh tom; he had good reason, after all. "My name's Sootstor - Sootstar, the leader of WindClan. How old are you two? Are you cold? The moor doesn't have much when it comes to trees, after all, so it's much more quickly to freeze up here." he only asked because they looked old enough to become apprentices soon, but young enough to have to wait another moon at least. The large maine coon approached, although there were no ill intentions in his face, that was softened but not softened enough to mean something. Luckily for him, his unbelievably thick coat provided good defense against the cold, as well as lucky for his mate Mothdust (as she quite liked hiding under him when it got too cold). He was about to say more when a high pitched voice rang through his keen ears, and he frowned, turning to Fleetkit, who had rather precariously began shouting questions at the two kits at the border. [color=white][b]"You're not supposed to be out of camp, Fleetkit. So if I see you out again after this, I'll make you sit with the elders and help get rid of their flees with the medicine cat. Understood?"

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=transparent; color:; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px;][font=times new roman]Tracking, will reply later w/ my kit -- and just a quick notice, I had meant to say that his name was Hailkit earlier! Sorry!