Robinpelt takes a bite out of the furry flesh of a woodchuck, after she had finished chewing, she spots a rotten ferret amongst the other pieces of prey. "I might as well bury this." She mews. Her eyes widened, someone was missing, someone...Gingershadow. The long furred she-cat pads through the camp, making sure nobody else was missing. That was when she saw it. The limp body of Gingershadow lying near the warriors den. No... was Starclan angry? Why did they take these cat's lives...just like that. "I have a bit of bad news...we have lost another member of Glenclan. That cat happens to be Gingershadow." She mews, why must all these cats die, they were too young, innocent. They all deserved to live longer, they had more of their life to give. But alas, it was Starclan's decision and all of Starclan's decisions have their own purposes.
Ravenstar stood quietly, his gaze distant and his expression darkened in thought. The forest was collapsing around him. At least, it felt that way. He was vaguely aware that he was being addressed by different cats, but every word and concern blurred together in his mind. He hadn't quite processed Talonhawk's attack before Shadestorm emerged with a dead kit and Molefur buried it. Then Robinpelt announced that Gingershadow was dead.
His orange eyes slid closed and he sat in mute stillness for a moment. Although he prized himself for his composure, this had exhausted his limits. He only knew that his Clan was looking to him for guidance, for comfort, for hope.
And he wouldn't be able to give it. Not sufficiently or convincingly, anyway. Ravenstar took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. Perhaps his greatest achievement was his ability to play pretend; his whole legacy could be contributed to this trait. The leader drew himself regally to his paws and faced his Clan with such certainty that it was almost like their family and friends weren't just dying around them.
"GlenClan." he called, identifying his next words to be important. "We are under attack. Forces outside of our control are declaring war on us. One of these is a former Clanmate of ours -- Talonhawk has come to exact revenge. It's not clear what his plan is or when he will strike next. He attacked Ratnose and Ashenmane, though I was not present for the battle." Here the tom paused, as guilt nipped at the back of his neck. And just why wasn't he? He hoped this question would not come to mind for his faithful warriors. He quickly continued.
"And yet there are darker forces that surround us still. Death has befallen two of our members today. GlenClan is being taken -- and for no mortal reason I can understand. It is on this day, as we lose so much of the blood that binds us, that we must gather closer together before we fall apart completely." Ravenstar held back the heavy sigh that pressed against his lungs and instead gave a steady look to each downtrodden face before him. He had to return every hopelessness with his own strength and stability, even if his own paws threatened to tremble out from beneath him. This season had been a difficult one, so much unlike the newleaf that seemed so distant now.
He didn't have time to consider his own questions or confusion or emotions. They'd have to be buried for now. He gave a short pause, then began to speak again in a level yet authoritative tone. "I do not want anyone going out on their own from now on, if it can be helped. Talonhawk overcame two of our best warriors; I do not want us risking any more lives to the claws of this enemy. If you must leave alone, be quick and return swiftly. Do not linger. Our own territory is not safe anymore. I do not want anyone to take it upon themselves to neutralize this threat. I'd prefer if you would avoid him if possible and stay in camp. We are safer in numbers."
The words stung his tongue and a quick, nearly inaudible hiss was uttered under his breath. He hated feeling this helpless. He hated admitting this incredible weakness. It was necessary to implement a plan, however, for the safety of his Clanmates. He glanced up at the sky and noted that it was time for this moon's Gathering. This would be one to remember.
"Try to keep the fresh-kill pile stocked as best you can, without risking too much in venturing out into the territory. We will have to strategize a better plan soon, but... we are out of time. The Gathering is tonight and we may already be late. However, in light of the circumstances, it is not wise to compromise our safety by traveling to Brightrock." Ravenstar blinked and turned to Ashenmane. "I don't wish to leave our Clan during this emergency, but I must attend. GlenClan faces a threat that we simply cannot stand against on our own. I'm afraid we must... enlist outside help. GlenClan needs a leader, though. You must stay here and lead in my absence. As for those who will be accompanying me..." Ravenstar turned to the other warriors.
"We need every warrior to be here and protect the Clan, but those who would like to accompany me may come as they wish. I would insist that only two warriors attend the Gathering with me, if any at all. Just be sure to prioritize the Clan in your decision, whether you stay or go. In the meantime, I will try hunting for the Clan a short distance from camp."
With that, Ravenstar dipped his head and turned to leave. As he reached the camp exit, he looked over his shoulder at Robinpelt.
"Attend to Ashenmane's and Ratnose's wounds. If you need more cobwebs or lamb's ear, then take a warrior to search with you." he ordered, though it was not meant to be harsh. He was utterly grateful for the medicine cat and intended to consult her after the Gathering. The recent events were so troubling and so great... Ravenstar gave a small, respectful nod to the she-cat and then bounded through the exit. (Ravenstar exits)
Ravenstar entered camp with a raven tightly clamped in his jaws. Upon returning, the bliss that had blanketed him during his hunt faltered and fell. There wasn't much pride to be had in his catch, for the day had been dark and grief-stricken. He placed the crow modestly on the fresh-kill pile and then turned to retrieve his other catches. (Ravenstar exits)
Ravenstar emerged into camp a second time, this time holding a blackbird and batting a mockingbird with his paws in front of him. It was an odd spectacle, but he managed to deposit both birds on the fresh-kill pile. Exhaustion was clearly etched on his face, but he seemed pleased by his accomplishment. He helped himself to a few generous bites of the battered mockingbird, realizing his exhaustion was due to being on the verge of starving.
Finishing his quick meal, he pulled away from the pile and approached the camp exit yet again. This time, however, he sat by the entrance and waited patiently -- allowing only a moment for anyone who wished to accompany him to do so.
((Alright, so since I'm stretched for time, just have your characters IC volunteer to go to the Gathering (with the exception of Ashenmane and Ratnose, for obvious reasons). I'd like only two to come along as it makes more sense IC and will also make the Gathering more manageable, I think, with fewer participants. This will be more or less a "first come, first served" situation but everything can be settled IC and between roleplayers if there is more than two people/characters interested.))
Molefur nodded his head, although he paused after Moonfire left as he started forward to speak on the dangers the clans faced. The mere mention of Talonhawk made him shiver inwardly.
"But you can't just go on your own, Ravenstar - it risks more problems. And what if he were to attack you alone." He wanted to go back and see his mate, of course...but at the same time new she needed to be cared for too.
"Shadestorm...She has had our kits...but I know she'll be well cared for if I were to come with you, Ravenstar. For moral support, of course." He nodded his head, his mind set on the idea of what needed to be done.
Even if it worried him to leave the clan, and his mate, alone for even a short amount of time.
Still, he followed after Ravenstar - as a loyal warrior would, wherever he would lead.
Ashenmane nodded her head along with Ravenstar's pronouncements, although each turn of her head made her injuries twinge. She was strong, however, and would remain strong for her clan, even as she turned aside to Robinpelt and instructed. "Bandage Ratnose first. He needs it more than I do." The cuts had stopped bleeding, and any scarring was not going to bother her, of course.
There were many there already.
Nothing that Ravenstar said surprised her. Of course, he was making wise decisions. What did surprise her was Molefur's pronouncement. "Shadestorm has...what? How many." Her eyes widened with untellible emotions; her daughter...her grandkits. And she had missed them.
Blast Talonhawk and his timing.
She paced impatiently across the clearing, taking over as Ravenstar demanded, but padding back and forth in front of the gathered clanmmates. "Alright, you heard Ravenstar - stay with me if you please; all able bodied warriors." She sniffed the air and her lips curled.
The pain still didn't dull away and he could understand if Robinpelt was to busy gathering herbs to give him something for the pain. He felt a new pain in his stomach. The prey that was offered to him by Molefur had vanished in his stomach and nothing was left.
Knowing very well that he had to eat, the tom struggled to his paws and tried to make his way over to the fresh-kill pile. Taking a piece of the crow, he devoured it in slow bites. He then caught a foul scent and glanced down at the woodchuck that also lay by the pile. It was old and need to be taken care of. Even thought Ratnose was in no shape to keep moving, especially since he had no herbs to keep his wounds from opening and releasing more of his crimson blood, he knew something had to be done.
Figuring he would survive, the tom grabbed the reaming pieces of the woodchuck and took it towards the edge of camp and barred it. Feeling what ever strength he had mange to regain starting to fade once again, he knew that he had to rest once more. Seeing Ashenmane, he figured now was a decent time to apologize and explain what had overcome it.
Making his way slowly back to the thick furred she-cat, he tried to control his ragged breathing. Taking a seat, and later laying down because he was unable to support himself, the tom glanced up at the she-cat.
"Ashenmane, if you don't mind me taking a moment of your time I would like to explain what happened back at Softpaw Straight."
The tom did his best to speak in clear sentences, he unsteady breaths causing issues when producing words.
Featherfoot exited the medicine cat den. There were a few cats milling about, and she nodded at them as she went about her business. She spotted Ducktail leaving as well, and she remembered their agreement to meet at the Great Arch for hunting and herb gathering. Quietly, she slipped away, heading to the location.
Not really wanting to sit around staring at the wreckage of the camp, Ducktail flicked her ears at Featherfoot as she left the camp, taking one last look around and sighing deeply before turning and padding towards the camp exit. There had been so much death and destruction in the storm... She didn't like to think about it. Maybe she would go hunt for the Clan instead while she was out.
Moonfire walked into the center of camp with the groundhog she caught in her mouth. The camp still had some wreckage to it but she knew that the clan would not stop until the camp was rebuilt to how it was. Moonfire walked slowly towards where the fresh kill pile was and placed the groundhog down. She looked at the groundhog and smiled a bit as that as the first one she had caught by herself and she was proved of that. Moonfire then turned round and sat down by the entrance of the warriors den inase she was given orders at all.
Last Edit: Dec 11, 2015 14:14:45 GMT -6 by Deleted
Trotting into camp, Ducktail kept his head down, focusing on the gorund so she didn't trip, and so she wouldn't have to look at the chaos of the destroyed camp. It make her a little upset to think about all the damage they would have to repair, and all the things that wouldn't ever be able to be repaired, no matter how hard they tried. Things like broken branches couldn't be put back the way they were before, and some were so big she wasn't sure if they'd be able to move them out of camp. They might become permanent fixtures.
She padded over to drop her kittiwake on the fresh kill pile, and noticed that someone else must have had the idea to go hunting as well; there was a fresh groundhog on the formerly empty pile. She placed her kill next to it, and stood back to admire her work. There, it was already starting to look like a fresh-kill pile again.