by squarshed » Wed Dec 12, 2018 2:57 pm
๐ก๐ธ๐ผ๐ฎ๐๐ช๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ป
|| molly || 32 moons || priestess of Horus|| tags; Quietrain || mentions; priestess of Sekhmet, Stormhaze ||
"Her scent still lingers," was the first shocking, awful thought that had crossed Rosewater's previous hollow mind. A flash of sudden desperation to do something broke the wall that had held her mind captive. She would demand a servant to come by and scrub the place from nose to tail-tip, to rid them of what clung to the living world. She would request for a post to be stationed close to the entrance to the priestesses dens continuously. She would speak her voice, speak for change. Firstly, she would take a deep breath. Two breaths. Then three. She couldn't remain strong if she broke down at every memory.
Upon taking in a fifth deep breath, Quietrain's fresh scent wafted over to her, and the numbness claimed Rosewater's mind once more. Then came the roaring wave of uncontainable emotion that stockpiled in her head and behind her eyes. Seven breaths. Eight. She could feel nausea eating away at her; she hadn't eaten since the early afternoon the day before. Reluctantly, the molly turned away from the enclosure and followed the other priestesses scent, only partially aware of her surroundings. Quietrain was strong and smart, and always knew what to do; Rosewater could depend on her, trust her, especially in these trying times.
It seemed as though Stormhaze's lashing had already taken place, for the air was now buzzing with activity. Rosewater hardly noticed when she had approached Quietrain, and heavily sat next to her, head low and shoulders slumping. She gazed around quickly and spotted the Guard's Captain, thick blood dripping from his back, wounds exposed to the air; practically an omen for infection. "His wounds must be tended to soon. What do you think we should dress it with?" Rosewater's statement was a quiet one, toned with little interest in what she was saying. But she couldn't just remain silent for the rest of her life; Quietrain was no doubt grieving as well. They all just needed to remain distracted, until the problem could be confronted.
๐๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ก
|| molly || 17 moons || guard || tags; Stormhaze (lightly), Kindleflame || mentions; none ||
Every crack of the whip, Fallencloud had flinched. While seeing such beatings weren't necessarily new to her, nor did they faze her, it was painful to watch her Captain pay for something that she wasn't all too sure that he deserved to pay for. She was on edge already standing in the courtyard, eyes glued to the event happening before her, and it only prolonged the tenseness of her muscles. Throughout, she constantly sent glances at her father and other members of the clan; she was curious as to how everyone thought of the lashing. Some cats had a grim expression; others, one of joy, occasionally cheering it on. Making a mental note to avoid those cats, Fallencloud listened to her orders with pricked ears and a worried look. Upon Kindleflame's remark, she nodded in agreement, making her way to the young guard. Not before hesitating; Stormhaze was wading into dangerous waters, defying the Pharoah. Shouldn't he at least be warned of that?
Turning to look up at her Captain, she struggled to catch his eye and hold his gaze the best she could.
"I suggest you remain careful, sir- my father won't forget of such a thing until he is long past dead. I advise you to keep your head down, for your own safety. Trust me on that. And please get that wound dressed; it is nothing but a painful reminder of what has already been done." Fallencloud knew she didn't have the rank to tell Stormhaze what to do, but she couldn't help it. Part of her hardly cared, anyway, for the cats that would dare to defy were few and far between, and he was one of them. She strode over Kindleflame, head held high; she was acting herself again, thank the gods. No amount of death could change her for long. She let out a curt nod in response to Kindleflame, eyes glued to the Royal's chambers.
โญ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ก๐ฃ๐๐ซ๐ค
|| tom || 26 moons || fighter || tags; Fogstep (vaguely), Gleamingheart || mentions; Stormhaze ||
Coldfang met Stormhaze's gaze coolly, refusing to look away, mostly to prove his own point than anything else. He bid farewell to Fogstep, who he decided that could now be considered his friend, and quickly made his way over to Gleamingheart, excited to get out and about. He had been yearning to do something all morning, and this was the perfect opportunity. His thirst forgotten, Coldfang sat nearby, wishing the guard a distracted "good morning" as he scanned the area for any unoccupied cats that could go with them. "Seems as though this will be a two-cat patrol. Where would you like to hunt at? Personally, I would prefer we don't hunt in the Nile; getting wet is unnatural. Hunting on the banks would probably be best, now that I think about it." he rambled to Gleamingheart, barely taking a breath in between sentences. His blue eyes shown with pent-up energy, and he kneaded his paws restlessly into the ground, waiting for a response.
๐ข๐ช๐ฐ๐ฎ๐น๐ช๐
|| molly || 10 moons || scout apprentice || tags; Fadedlotus || mentions; Stromhaze (vaguely) ||
Before Sagepaw could even begin to say something to her mentor, orders were quickly given by a bloody Stormhaze. She could feel her head start to spin as she noticed how crowded it was starting to get; cats were swamping around the space, moving in close-knit patterns, voices rising in order to be heard. It made her pelt heat up dangerously, and vision get blurry with tears, ears pinned to her head. Fadedlotus's voice barely dragged her back into reality as she rushed to reach him. She closed her eyes, struggling to collect herself once more, taking a couple of moments before opening them once more. Her blue eyes, now devoid of any signs of distress (even if she hadn't completely rid herself of the awful feeling), never left the ground as she listened to Beefang's explanation, flinching at his sudden loud voice. She was suddenly very aware of how close she was to her mentor, but, surprisingly, it was comforting, to know he was right there beside her. It calmed her down, to a degree; that didn't end her desperate need to get out of there, though.
๐๐ฌ๐ฑ๐ฅ๐ญ๐๐ด
|| tom || 13 moons || scribe apprentice || tags; Scarabstone, Foxfire || mentions; Ravenpaw(faintly) ||
Lost inside his own head, Mothpaw hadn't heard his mentor at first. But, after he had waited for quite some time, unoccupied, the realization hit him. Ravenpaw was simply going to have to wait, for he wouldn't allow for her to make him late. Grabbing his stuff, the tabby briskly made his way over and into the inventory. Bowing his head in greeting, he said "Good morning, Foxfire; good morning, Scarabstone. Sorry for my tardiness, I slept in late. Isn't that the craziest thing? I never sleep-in. Anyway, what are we doing today? The usual training?" Sometimes, once Mothpaw started to talk, he simply didn't know how to stop. He probably should have taken note to tone it down a little today, for some cats' hearts were still tender after last nights events. He also remained disturbed, but had quickly decided to remain busy, hoping the hustle and bustle of daily training would keep him from dwelling on last nights events. And this morning's. As he patiently waited for a response, the young tom organized his stuff, tail curled neatly around his front paws.
