: osc x warriors :

*UNDER CONSTRUCTION*

Allegiances—

(CharacterHub profiles currently available are linked, but they are still under construction. The ask blog is set after season two.)

(The most popular fandom ships will be the canon Inanimateclan ones just to avoid arguments c: )

LEADER-

Morningstar (Suitcase)

DEPUTY-

Orangepelt (OJ)

MEDICINE CATS-

Shatterbug (Test Tube)

Sneezestep (Tissues)

WARRIORS-

Brightlight (Lightbulb)

Paintedflame (Paintbrush)

Redwind (Fan)

Splitface (Yin-Yang)

Bluestripes (Paper)

Russetstripes (Baseball)

Silversnap (Nickel)

Floatstream (Balloon)

Goldenfur (Trophy)

Swiftshine (Soap)

Pepperspark (Pepper)

Saltdapple (Salt)

Cherrybite (Cherries)

Blackchirp (Microphone)

Slicespots (Cheesy)

Swampnose (Pickle)

Stuttermuzzle (Bomb)

Splashpounce (Toilet)

Calmwatcher (Cabby)

Violetflame (Candle)

Silvermist (Silver Spoon)

Blueberry (Blueberry)

Rubbleface (Floory)

Clovercurl (Clover)

Steamsong (Tea Kettle)

Waterstripe (Lifering)

APPRENTICE-

Lemonpaw (Taco)

OUTSIDERS-

Bow

Dough

Marshmallow

Apple

Knife

ELDERS-

Buzzingsky (MePhone4)

Greyshimmer (MePhone3GS)

STARCLAN-

Ebonyspark (MePad)

Redshadow (MePhone4S)

DARK FOREST-

She was a stark contrast to the pale snow, her black fur a wafting shadow, her plumed tail dripping void. Blackpaw traversed the territory, slipping between bramble bushes, following any scent she could find. It smelled of chill and the absence of something; nothing appetizing.

It wasn’t unlike Blackpaw to be feisty. Her mother had told her countless stories of her soft spoken, collected, intelligent father who hadn’t said a mean thing a day in his life, but she had also heard stories from clanmates about how cunning her mother used to be. And just because Blackpaw looked like her father didn’t mean she had his personality.

She came across a burrow, and it was definitely inhabited, judging by the scent that hit her. Bloody, garish, rank. A predator. Clearly larger than her, by a lot.

Hesitantly, Blackpaw took a step forward, watching as the snow faded into dark dirt. She couldn’t hear her own thoughts over the smell filling her mind. Everything inside her screamed to go back, to run, but maybe this was her chance to finally gain her warrior name. Her own brother had even received his before her. Blackpaw was the oldest apprentice in her clan, and it irked her.

With the smell clouding her judgement, she set her jaw, knit her brows, and pressed forward, dirt crumbling beneath her broad paws. There was a loud shuffling, suddenly, and a high pitched growling that rumbled the burrow above and below her. Blackpaw froze, hackles raising, her tail fluffing to triple its size.

The predator was home.

Quickly she turned tail as the thudding of the predator’s paws grew louder and louder. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, as she leapt out of the burrow, and the light of the snow reflected blindingly into her eyes.

Claws longer than her body sliced through her torso, and she couldn’t manage a scream before blood spurted from her mouth and she fell mangled to the snow, staining it scarlet. Air could barely make it to her punctured lungs as the maw of the wolverine stalked closer, its hot breath huffing on her slowly fading face.

First, she lost feeling in her paws. They felt as if they were made of the snow below her—cold, bright, and so pristine. The panic wavered from her mind and instead turned into a dizzy relief, as the fuzziness of losing feeling crept up her body.

Instead of the wolverine’s dripping maw, she blinked, and above her stood a tall, broad, dark furred tom with stars dancing in his eyes. He had a great mane, with a very clear wound right in the middle—but instead of blood, stars dotted the imperfection, like a window straight into the night sky. He tilted his head, his eyes endlessly soft and his movements graceful and calculated.

“Blackpaw,” he said in a soft, echoing voice.

Blackpaw looked him up and down, her limbs lighter than they had ever been before. She felt as if she herself was a cloud, and she stood slowly, no pain in her body; but instead, her wounds the same as the tom above her.

When she stood, she realized just how massive the other cat was. The way his fur flowed, though, and the color of his eyes…she had seen this face when she looked at her reflection in the water. The way he smiled, it was exactly the way her mother had described her father’s smile.

“I have been waiting to meet you,” he purred, touching his forehead to hers. “It is different to truly talk to you than to watch over you.”

“You’ve been watching over me?” she asked softly.

“You and your brother,” Ebonyspark replied. “I am very proud of both of you.”

Blackpaw looked down at her starry paws, and flexed them into the blue-tinted grass. Never would she receive her warrior name, like her brother had. Like Auburnthorn and Stickysplash had. Like Logfoot and Rowanfleck. “But I’ll never be a warrior.”

“I am still proud of you,” he replied matter-of-factly. “What does being a warrior have to do with your dedication and drive?”

“It wasn’t enough,” she mumbled, sitting down, tail wrapping around her paws. Ebonyspark joined her, his large form warm as he curled himself around her. “I wasn’t enough.”

The two ginger toms were perched atop Tigerbounce’s back, and the tiny, spotted blue she-cat wriggled in her jaws as she limped back to camp. A lingering taste of juniper ailed her tongue from the amount of berries she had shoveled into her mouth in an attempt to be able to return to camp in the least amount of pain as possible, and she was still wracking her brain for some sort of explanation for why one of the kits she… “found…” looked like a mini version of the mysterious, ghostly she-cat currently haunting PowerClan.

Night had settled over the camp when Tigerbounce returned, and she crept as quietly as possible into the medicine den where Dimpleface, Fuzzyfur, and their patients were sleeping soundly. Tigerbounce’s kits relentlessly mewled, and desperately she took to one of the nests, covering the three tiny bodies with her massive tail to dampen their noise.

Panic shot through her veins when Dimpleface stirred with a mrrp?. The grey she-cat yawned quietly, her yellow eyes blinking open slowly, and Tigerbounce lied in horrible, anxious wait.

“...Tigerbounce?” Dimpleface finally asked in a raspy voice, quickly waking up. After her eyes looked the ginger she-cat up and down, her brows furrowed, and she spoke again. “What happened to you? You look a mess.”

“I was, um,” Tigerbounce began, her face hot with nervousness, “searching for herbs, and I went at night so I could— it would be quieter, and, um, I found…” Tigerbounce shifted her great tail, revealing the three tiny kits mewing aimlessly at her belly.

“Oh, dear StarClan,” came Dimpleface’s exasperated voice immediately.

“They’re not mine,” Tigerbounce immediately continued, then for a moment, panicked—if she had truly just found these kits abandoned, would she feel the need to convince Dimpleface they weren’t hers? Or would she assume that Dimpleface would understand? “I-I just… found them. By the Thunderpath.”

Dimpleface gave a quick stretch and padded over to the herb stores, sifting through them for basic strength herbs to attempt to give the kits she assumed had been abandoned for StarClan knows how long. Tigerbounce’s kits were perfectly healthy for newborns, but… she figured the herbs would be good for them anyway.

“Did you name them?” Dimpleface asked idly.

“Did I— what?” Yes, Tigerbounce did name them, but it was odd for Dimpleface to care about something like that.

“Well, you found them,” she explained matter-of-factly. “I assume you gave them names if you went out of your way to bring them back to camp. And I also assume you’re taking it upon yourself to take care of them?”

Did she really have a choice? “Ah, I did… name them, yes.”

“Well?” Dimpleface gestured for Tigerbounce to keep talking. “Go on, then.”

Tigerbounce shifted her tail again, revealing the busily nursing kits to Dimpleface. “The lighter ginger one is Starkit, and the darker ginger one is Sparkkit. And the blue one—the only she-cat—her name is Moonkit.”

Tigerbounce was fascinated by the way Dimpleface’s expression had gone so soft. “They look brand new. There’s no chance they’d survive in the cold alone.” Dimpleface paused, her expression morphing into something unreadable. “Perhaps they hadn’t been left for long.”

“...Perhaps,” Tigerbounce agreed, uneased by Dimpleface’s shift in expression, once again covering her kits with her tail. She turned to the bundle of herbs Dimpleface was bringing over, and her face contorted in confusion.. “Dimpleface, the kits can’t… eat those.”

“They’re not for the kits.” She handed Tigerbounce a bundle of what she recognized as borage, chervil, and thyme.

Tigerbounce bristled in horror. Was it that obvious? “D– Dimpleface, I don’t— I’m not—”

“I’m not a mousebrain, Tigerbounce,” she said with a deadpan expression.

Tigerbounce grew silent, dread creeping into her expression. Her maw had parted as she grasped her mind for a frantic explanation. “No, I—”

“Dear StarClan, flatten your fur,” Dimpleface interrupted grumpily, already annoyed she was woken up for something like this. “I won’t gain anything from spilling secrets of your pitiful personal life to our clan. And I don’t care for trivial things like mates and kits anyhow.” She shoved the herbs closer to Tigerbounce. “Now eat your herbs.”

Tigerbounce felt herself deflate as Dimpleface turned back to where Fuzzyfur was sprawled out snoring. Her green eyes turned down to the herbs, and after an aching silence, she relented and took the leaves into her mouth.

“So they are yours.”

Tigerbounce’s head shot up. Dimpleface wasn’t donning a smug grin like she had assumed she would. Instead, it was her usual scrutinizing, judging expression, like every hair on Tigerbounce’s body had personally wronged Dimpleface.

“I-I thought you—” Tigerbounce began to panic again. “You were acting like—”

“Well, I knew,” Dimpleface said matter-of-factly, curling up next to Fuzzyfur. “For StarClan’s sake, Sparkkit is just a smaller version of you! I just wanted confirmation, is all.”

“Is…” Tigerbounce swallowed thickly, her ears flicking back. “Is it that obvious?”

“There are not many cats in this Clan who are as intelligent and detail-oriented as me, Tigerbounce,” Dimpleface said idly as she rested her head down and closed her eyes. “If you don’t tell anybody, they won’t think anything of it.”

“And… you won’t—”