border 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 ╱ 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒

[SUNNVAR]

The burnt space that ShadowClan had marked in WindClan's absence is filled once more, by a cat in a state that none could expect. He has frequented this border often as of late, bearing news and gifts — and kittens, in quiet pawfuls. And now there is only himself once more. Not even a patrol stands as his shadow. None to defend him, or to witness what he has to say. Surely they would not disagree. His council know the cat that he is, and ShadowClan knows that he keeps his promises. As the last bit of goodwill between them, Sunstar intends to prove himself as such. His head his held tall, the stump of his limb gently weeping into cobwebs.

Wolfsong had demanded rest, but he is surely not as wise as he had once seemed. Most certainly not enough to take it into consideration now. There will be no healing without practice, and no practice without humiliation. At least he can remain still, here, with charred earth beneath him and the roaring thunderpath before him. A monster drives slowly past, and though he hesitates near shrubbery, using what he can to hide himself, it does not seem to notice him. He pushes forward, and waits.

⋆ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄  ╱╱ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝗕𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 〚 04.17.2024 〛 𖤓ᨒ

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTAR. WINDCLAN LEADER.  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
  ——– AMAB HE - HIM - HIS ╱╱ 4+ YEARS OLD.

  NPC x NPC,. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO ONE LITTER WITH HIM. MENTORING RIVEPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ A LARGE, SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS EYES

• "speech"

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

windclan at their border. they wonder why. they wonder what is so important that the scent of the windclanners, mixed with ash, smoke, and soot all in one, and somewhere amongst is married with desperation. something tells them that the leader wouldn't be here otherwise. or perhaps... perhaps they've got this all wrong. wouldnt matter either way. as chilledstar approaches, their gaze moves over the tattered body of the leader with a flick of their ears back and forth and back again. sunstar. to what do i owe this displeasure?

they dont say that. has the sun finally set over windclan? they don't say that either. they don't want to say anything. their gaze is dull and almost akin to lifelessness. they don't want to talk to him but they will. it is their job. it us what they're meant to do. whatever this was couldn't wait to the fast approaching gathering, it seems and they wonder why. they have no interest in what he has to say, truly. not really. a slow blink they offer as they roll their shoulder, hiding the pure pain that spikes within them, but just barely.

"you look rough."

okay, blunt. but when have they ever held back on being, especially to windclan? hardly ever.

"what is it that you want, sunstar? and was it so important that it could not wait until the gathering?"

their voice doesn't move in one way or another. it's stone cold, and frigid like their name suggests. they don't really care how sunstar takes it. he is, after all, at their border.

———————---***ALL OF MY FEELINGS ARE GONE***———————---​

I LEFT 'EM ALL ON THE FLOOR✧ MAN WHO'S TO BLAME IF YOU DON'T LOVE ME NO MORE

•  
• — black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
  — 46 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
  — they / them pronouns
  — aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking / looking
  — child of JAGGED and RAVEN
  — shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
  — mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

​

 

[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] windclan at the border was normally not an odd sight to see since they... shared it with the moor loving group. Yet what was odd is that there was only one of them. Sunstar, their new leader and he wondered silently if he would turn out to be just like the wretched moor queen he heard many stories of from prior. Stubby tail twitched as they found themselves standing near their leader with ears perked forward to hear what the chocolate tabby had to say.

Yellow gaze flicking towards where one of Sunstar's leg should have been and he grimmaced slightly, surely that must've hurt. Had the fire been that bad that the windclan leader lost a leg? His gaze flicking behind them trying to see what damage had come from the burning blaze now quelled and long gone. So, what reason brought the other to their borders? Especially on his own?

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── You ve wasted your life , but thanks for applying ──┐‎

• 
  "speak""Thoughts"
  
• 
  Snowpaw ❄ He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 9 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[FERNDANCE]

A long time had passed since the cinnamon tabby had seen the leaders of the other clans in any official capacity. Eight moons since her last gathering, the outside world had changed more than what she could keep up with - she was even certain Sunstar had all four legs the last time she saw him! She found the other's eyes and stared unblinking, making little gestures with her paws and tails behind Chilledstar as if trying to get the WindClanner's attention away from their leader for but a moment. "I... don't mean to worry you... but you're missing a little something.... just below your shoulder." Her tone told of a motherly but sincere concern as if expecting the other to miraculously re-attach the missing limb should he be able to find it again. Frowning peacefully, the cinnamon tabby offered, "I can help you find it if you'd like... I'm very good at finding things." Had it been a fire to cause Sunstar's maiming, she doubted there'd be anything left but bone, but it would at least be a fascinating souvenir (or utterly traumatising to the tom, perhaps even both). With pupils flickering between the two leaders, Ferndance took a step back. "Once you're finished here, of course."

​

 

[Willowburn]

THE GODS CAN KNEEL ⋆⁺₊⋆
Curiosity swelled within Willowburn as he came to flank the others, his gaze firmly set upon the beaten up visage of the WindClan leader. At least the sight of Sunstar did not draw up feelings of ire and hatred. No longer did Sootstar taint the neighbours and his feelings towards them. He continued to hope that Sunstar would prove himself worthy of being so much more in the grand scheme of things.

Politely he remained silent, unlike Ferndance and her ever running mouth. He opted not to look her way and to instead pretend that she didn't exist at that exact second. His main priority was giving Sunstar his undivided attention. Just what news did the moorland king bring today?

- ⋆ -​

​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

WindClan was an enemy. He'd never forget that.

But maybe amongst them all, Sunstar was the presence amongst them that Sharpshadow would mind the least. Pictured beside Sootstar, Sunstar had been nothing but a dog. On his own, though, Sharpshadow could narrow his eyes, and maybe see someone that was worthy of respect. ShadowClan's kits came home thanks to him. She should slap him upside the head, for making her end up with the world's most annoying apprentice. She htinks it'd be funny, but really, it wasn't.

Rough, is an understatement. It's hard to keep himself from staring, at the gash where his leg had once been. His swallow is too loud to his own ears. His and his alone, hopefully.

What was it? They all ask with tense backs and narrowed gazes, hiding behind their leaders own prompt question. Leave it to Ferndance to be the only other one to open her mouth. If she had to say something, it ought to be, how's the prey running? or something equally stupid, instead she seems to think its funny to ask Sunstar about his missing limb. Not unsubtly, Sharpshadow's hackles rise. There was hardly anything they could do, about how the other clans saw them— but did they have to be so far below?

Sharpshadow is in no place to give orders, with or without her stupid, fake title. He isn't, and yet, blisteringly hot, " Time and place, Ferndance. " is pinched from between his teeth.​

 

[SUNNVAR]

Despite his own assurance that he would remain calm in this, that this would be a final olive branch between their clans, Sunstar cannot fight the way that his hackles begin to rise. Creeping upwards, his head tall and his weight balanced well despite the aching hole where his limb once had been. ShadowClan rallies around like vermin, a swarm of rats to weakness, but he cannot be weak. He cannot show anything before their watchful eyes. Ferndance is the closest that he comes to reaction or answer. The calmness of her remark strikes against him. Not the lashing of flint but a tap to exposed nerve. One that nearly makes him flinch. "Unless you care to dig about a beast's belly, you will not find it. The dog took its prize as the flames ravaged our territory. We are lucky that is all it took." A life, him, yes, but the flame had only harmed his bloodline. Perhaps Snakehiss had been right in all of this. Perhaps he had known well, as shadows overtook the sun.

"Should you value news of Granitepelt so poorly, Chilledstar, I will leave it at this and wait." For the rogues to turn their attention on ShadowClan; for the warrior to take more of their vulnerable kits. He cannot help the bitter hole of regret where he missed those he returned. His eyes dart away with the thought, yet Sunstar will not linger there. He steps slightly closer, until his paws touch the thunderpath. It would quiver if a monster came. Until then, he needs the closeness to peer into the leader's tired, cold eyes. "Granitepelt and his band of traitors follow your borders, in search of those foolish enough to join them. Before the fire, their scent trailed away from Highstones. You will have your chance at them soon. Should their scent take you towards our territory — you will have passage, and nothing more. Do as you will with his pelt; it is yours to hunt."

⋆ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄  ╱╱ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝗕𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 〚 04.17.2024 〛 𖤓ᨒ

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTAR. WINDCLAN LEADER.  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
  ——– AMAB HE - HIM - HIS ╱╱ 4+ YEARS OLD.

  NPC x NPC,. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO ONE LITTER WITH HIM. MENTORING RIVEPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ A LARGE, SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS EYES

• "speech"

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

they want to feel something about this news. they want to feel some sort of way that the possibility of their teeth sinking into that traitor's neck as he chokes on his own blood, viscera spilling from his body, eyes widened in pure fear, but... they don't. they don't feel anything. their eyes blink and they offer a nod before gently turning to look back at the rest of the patrol. anyone to join that fool is more stupid than they thought. they will make sure that their clan damn well knows it.

"so be it. get some rest, sunstar. the sun always rises again."

a brief nod to the leader. a neutrality. they're not upset about him being here, not really. sunstar has always been a good spirit, even if leadership is wearing at his bones already. but that's what being a leader does. it takes and takes, and sometimes all you get is a missing leg but, other times you get the bright shiny eyes of a kit looking up to you. love and admiration from cats you never thought you would. for every bad, there has to be a good.

"see you at the gathering."

there is a solid second of emotion in their eyes that conveys worry for the other leader but it's gone before they'd care to address it.

"let's go back. we have a lot to talk about."

unfortunately for them, they will not be getting the nap they promised themself.

———————---***ALL OF MY FEELINGS ARE GONE***———————---​

I LEFT 'EM ALL ON THE FLOOR✧ MAN WHO'S TO BLAME IF YOU DON'T LOVE ME NO MORE

•  
• — black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
  — 46 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
  — they / them pronouns
  — aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking / looking
  — child of JAGGED and RAVEN
  — shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
  — mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

​

 

[smogstar]

Rust-coloured eyes are strictly fixed on Sunstar's stump leg. Even as the neighbouring leader espouses information of immense value to the group - a lead on the clan's prolific traitor and his evolving prerogative - Smogmaw stares on in silent morbid awe, dumbfoundedly, at the cut-through limb. It just looks so silly. So bizarre. Mangled flesh folds over itself like a mauled rabbit hide, the gnarled weeping wound caked in a cobweb dressing. The deputy finds himself - for no good reason whatsoever - entirely enamoured with Sunstar's injury. Acutely curious. Fascinated by the sheer extremity.

Sharpshadow does his due in muzzling Ferndance before she has the chance to share another obtuse joke. Such remarks, in a serious situation such as this, are best kept inward. Like the thought of how funny it'd be if someone tipped Sunstar over, or rolled him down a hill. Smogmaw finds the concept distantly hilarious, and he has to disguise a sudden chuckle as a far more socially appropriate cough.

"Excuse me," excuses the tom wistfully, and at a breakneck pace, he coaxes Granitepelt to the fore of his mind. Granitepelt. Disgust takes up residence in his throat. That bottom feeder'd be lucky to have even two legs left the next time Smogmaw saw him. A proud and treacherous snake, with a rattle wagged without care.

In lieu of the callous way in which most here regarded Sunstar, there is no denying how persistent he has been in supporting ShadowClan at every possible interval. Returning Halfpaw and Laurelpaw, not only seeking out Granitepelt's trail but also promising the opportunity to slay him, it speaks to a degree of commitment and respect. Seeing similar commitment and respect returned from their end would prove hard-won and unlikely—the vacuum left by Sootstar's treachery still suffocates ShadowClan like a thick fog. But Smogmaw will remember this, always, and perhaps one day, he will feel justified in expressing gratitude.

"Be on your way, Sunstar. Here's hoping you can dig your clan up from the ashes—and here's hoping Granitepelt strays a tad too close to us, one of these days." With that, he pivots around and joins his leader, camp-bound, walking with a newfound appreciation for the limbs he still has.​