private 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ His mind is not yet made up by the point that he approaches them. His voice a gentle command spoken many times over: "Walk with me." Wolfsong flanks him– they know that this is serious. That the serene ease of his expression is not one to be trusted. It has become a rare and terrible thing to see Sunstar without weight upon his features. Each piece of him has lost the rhythm of joyous life. No longer do his lungs sing with every breath. This new shape of him has been carved from blood-washed marble. The cracks that blossom weaken him. Every death that he witnesses, every betrayal he suffers. Strength chips away.

His feeble lungs stir.

As a group they trail out of camp with the rosetted tom still at their head. They walk past the borders, card through moorland grass like the barbs of their tongues at the lazy hour of shared grooming. Though his step is purposeful, it lacks the force of urgency. He meanders, he curves. With every step the ground rises to meet them: the slow climb up the edge of their moor and into Highstones. Beneath the cool blue cast of a high moon each of them turns to something new. Even with every confidence that they will follow, the burnished warrior still turns to stare. As if his eyes cannot escape the pull of familiarity, that faint call of understanding. (Looking at them brings more concern than relief. They all must worry where this leads. An errant sway of his body brings his shoulder to Wolfsong's, seeking — something that is easily given.)

The first true pause is at the mouth of the great cavern. Of all the trips he has taken here, this is the most well-attended. But whatever happens inside. . . that is not for all sets of eyes. Gently he presses back through the throng, his nose touching each of his litter. Seaglass eyes close every time. "Wait here. Guard our path; do not move until we return." Once he had thought that it was the strength of his father that had raised a warrior such as himself. But a great many moons ago he came to understand: blood did not bring one strength. Once, he had realized that Wolfsong was brave without guidance. Now, as he looks upon his litter, it washes over him once more.

They have known him a coward. A bleeding heart who cannot bear this weight. And yet they stand strong.

He tears his eyes away with the force of ripping, tearing muscle from bone and fur from flesh. An ache settles into his chest. (Regret? Reluctance?) Each step into the winding dark of Mothermouth, a path of bloodied marble tracks him. He breathes. He aches. He sheds more and more. How ironic it is, that faith should guide him now. (Faith, and Wolfsong's steady shoulder.)

By the time that their path ends, the light of the Moonstone is nearly blinding. He looks upon StarClan in its entirety, the place of its earthly connection — and sighs. A bloodied golden pelt collapses to sitting. Haloed by the light he turns to face both that had followed them in. Wolfsong, he beckons to his side. "I apologize for the silence here. I did not wish to worry them any further."

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 ️️️ ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈? ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞09.15⌝

• ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. —
  

  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

• 
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives,
  
  
  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove — and very little energy left to do so, after a long list of betrayals on his council.

​

 

[cottonsprig]

She does not expect it, not in the manner it comes. Sunstar finds her with herbs sorted by her paws, and with a quick few words, Cottonsprig is made to stand and follow. In time, he harbors his litter, his mate, his deputy - and her. And they walk. They walk through fields of heather, through stalks of dried grass and pebbled grounds. They crest hills until eventually, mothermouth is before them. She was just here, and then here again before that - blue eyes grow round with confusion, eyebrows pinching above them as she looks over the many cats with her.

He bids his litter farewell. Each of them left to be sentries at the cavern's entrance, an unspoken promise of return. Cottonsprig detests the silence that blooms between them all, aches with fear that her leader will have her face StarClan once more. Would he force her to lie between her teeth, to tell them that she regrets wanting motherhood? Why bring Wolfsong to experience it, why tether Scorchstreak to the admittance of false guilt? Unless...

Wolfsong holds to Sunstar's side. Pathetically, Cottonsprig does the same for Scorchstreak, concern now creasing her features as she ventures out of her own selfish worries.

"Why are we here, Sunstar?"

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• ooc //

• ❥ MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
  ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
  ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
  ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
  ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
  ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
  ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
  ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
  ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
  ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?

• 

  ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The calico is summoned to her leader in a tone far too casual to settle her nerves. Sunstar carries the weight of leadership like a stone, like a mountain. He had hidden away with Wolfsong as if nursing his own sick soul—yet when he looks upon the group of cats he’s gathered, his expression shines with an eerie sense of calm. He remains quiet, they all do, as they make the trek into Highstones, to the den Scorchstreak had escorted Vulturemask to all those moons ago. Outside of it, Sunstar closes in on his kits, offering them each a gentle touch before asking them to wait outside. They are all young warriors, but they look so much older in this moment, as they prepare to stand sentry for as long as it takes to do… whatever it is Sunstar has planned.

They slip into the cave, and it is the first time Scorchstreak has ever been inside of it without a particular goal in mind. The pawsteps at her side are not those which she would have asked for—they are not the bouncing gait of her love, the comforting lope of her littermate, the surefooted steps of her long-lost friend. She feels them all around her as she pads through winding passages, lingering shadows at the edges of her vision. Do they see her now? Do they deign to come down from their starry high ground and greet her, the one who has missed them so? She does not linger on it long, and returns her golden gaze to the cat at her side. Cottonsprig has grown since she had trained beneath Scorchstreak. In leaps and bounds she has made her way through the fields of destiny, skipping daintily out of reach of her mother’s influence, remaining good-natured in spite of all that she was given to start with. As they walk side by side, the calico feels something in herself calm. After their conversation not long ago… the jagged edges of the rift between them may yet settle.

Her attention returns to Sunstar as he settles, and for a heartbeat she meets his gaze. Blue and gold, ice and fire, heart and logic. They do not always see eye to eye, and yet now more than ever she feels as though they are on entirely different planes of understanding. She stands still, uncertain. It is suspicious enough that he has dragged each member of his family to highstones with them. It is more suspicious that he does not share with them even now what he has planned. Her eyes narrow against the shine of the Moonstone. "Sunstar…" she says, haltingly. "What is this?" Is it an intervention, an apology, a damning sign of madness? Does he mean to call down StarClan themselves in some kind of revelation? Or does he merely wish to speak with them, behind the safety of his deputy and medicine cats, with his children all posted outside and awaiting his return? For once, Scorchstreak cannot read his intentions—perhaps she had never been able to in the first place.

YOU KNOW I DESERVE IT ☽♰☾ WELL, TAKE IT OUT ON ME

• ooc: —
• 
• SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy of windclan, tunneler
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & brackenpaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── He still recovers from yellowcough, freed of its grasp, but not yet the wounds left from a reluctantly relinquished reign over his body. Even so, when Sunstar bids him to walk, he does— and though the truth of their journey no doubt evades and worries their children, Cottonsprig, and Scorchstreak, it is not so for Wolfsong. They came to an agreement, spoken in the silent agonies of weary gazes and breaths. It tears at him. It is what must be done, but it will not be done easily, and every step along the way to the Moonstone is a lifetime's worth of circuitous doubt and apprehension.

And yet it is in no time at all that they reach the outskirts of judgment, and after his mate has charged their children with their duties, Wolfsong's nose presses each place his did. "My children," he murmurs, his rasp still slightly rougher than before the illness took him. "My warriors. My pride." He leaves them to follow Sunstar once more, and does not allow himself to glance back; he trusts they will do as they must, and he— he will do what he must.

Whatever compelled Scorchstreak and Cottonsprig to remain silent during their trek no longer holds their tongues. Admirable discipline. Wolfsong does not know that he could have been so quiet while lured through the dark. But their situations were not reversed, and the burden of explanation falls upon Sunstar, though he needn't carry it alone.

He has thought over what to say again and again, like a pacing, cornered creature. Whatever speech he may have cobbled together, whatever eloquence he rallied deserts him. Or perhaps he let go first. "We are leaving," he says bluntly, his gaze shifting between his former apprentice and WindClan's soon-leader. How much they have all seen together. How much they have all suffered and argued and learned together. "Our paws tread paths until they become worn and beaten. This path has reshaped us in turn, callusing our toes to its liking, breaking our stride. We are out of step, and will be for as long as we continue this walk." He takes a deep breath. "So we will leave it."

​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 46 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ He sits with a finality that betrays the slipping mask. The longer they have thought of leaving, the more certain this path seemed. "I am not the cat that came to this clan. Nor am I the warrior that helped to shape it. Fate is not something to be denied, and. . . while I had thought it was what brought me here, I know now that it was not to be the whole of my life." Does it feel like tearing something from them, he wonders? Does hearing that he is leaving them cause pain that he had never intended? He knew it would come. Like many other agonies WindClan has carried through all this time, this one is carefully calculated. When the scar fully heals, they will be stronger for it. Briefly, seaglass eyes flit down to Scorchstreak's chest.

Then to her eyes. "I know that to walk this path is to lead WindClan back into darkness. My mind has been clouded by guilt, and by grief. I cannot give what WindClan deserves when my heart carries me outside of its borders." It is. . . strange, that he has worn himself ragged through so much and yet it is love that finally pulls him away. The bonds of family he cannot celebrate, the empty vessel of his own heart yearning for what he can no longer give. His faith in StarClan guides him here, and only here: this final farewell. From the moment his paws crossed into the moorland territory, this had been what awaited him.

Tired paws jolt forward from where he had sat. Unless she should flinch away, his nose would touch Scorchstreak's forehead like a mentor's, like kin. "I have come to say my farewells to StarClan, so that you may do better in my stead. I know you will take care of them."

A less jaded warrior than he might have met the moonstone without fear or trepidation. But the younger souls have not yet learned the agony of death, the lure of peace in an ending. They know to fight, and they know to live. In his moons here, Sunstar has learned to fear the in - between. (He will learn to bare his teeth once more. He will be alive once more.)

As soon as his nose touches cool stone, Wolfsong's beside as if they had timed it, he knows the farewell that faces him. A cloudy sky carves above them, pinpricks of starlight still visible past the storm about to break. In this dream there is nothing to hide them from StarClan's judgment. A stormy night upon the moor feels lonesome, forgotten. The cats that they had chosen to lie and live beneath so far separated from them that it is as if they have lost a limb — he had not thought about it in many moons. It had been complicated at first, to learn to honor them beneath Sootstar's watchful eye. Had any of them seen her betrayal as it unfolded? Did they know that she would stray?

From the gentle rolling hills to a star-speckled darkness of watchful eyes, these ghosts loom like his father upon the day of his farewell. They do not speak for a moment. If it is their silent judgement, or an invitation to speak, he does not know. He steps forward regardless, into the crescent moon of their silvery forms. "I am here to say my farewells, and to ask that you bless the leadership of she who would follow me. I carry the lives that you gave me, lives given to WindClan — and as they will not find their purpose with me, let them find it with her."

There is silence, at first. In the darkness it is hard to pick out expressions, faces. How many among this crowd stand as cats he had called friends in life? How many had fought and died alongside him? Restless paws seek to push him forward and into their ranks. To find someone that he may speak to quietly instead of this faceless horde. It seems that they know his intention at least well enough to circumvent it.

“So this is it, then. After all the moons we watched over you, every life gifted to you with purpose. . . wasted." Glacial eyes widen subtly, stretching the well - healed scar on his cheek. His mouth opens to speak, yet Sunstar only finds himself with clenched teeth reflecting starlight. "Others fought for their clans until their final breath, never dreaming of casting aside their responsibility. And yet here you stand, asking for release. How easy you must think it is, to step down when the weight of leadership becomes too much.” He jolts forward. It feels as if he gains no distance. He could run for moons and still not reach them.

A single one steps out to meet him. A face he does not recognize (a blessing, a curse, a final forgiveness or one last insult?) comes forward until their noses touch. Like stepping into the frozen lake he had once known, Sunstar sucks in a breath that shocks the whole of him. He jolts away with a jerk that follows his body past StarClan's borders, back to the form that lies in the cool, comforting glow of their ancestors. “You were granted the nine lives of a leader to serve your Clan until your final death. You revoke your leadership before StarClan, and in turn, we revoke the lives we gifted you."

Death meets him as he knows it best. Claws rip through his hide, and even through gritted teeth he howls his agony. From the hollow of his throat comes one. He can feel cold blood soaking his mane. At the center of his chest is another, ruining the scar that Sootstar had left for him. StarClan's claws dig into his belly, tear out his heart — three, four, five, six, and he is a mess upon the dark void that they had welcomed him to. He breathes in shakily with a trembling body and eyes squeezed tightly shut. “You are Sunstar no more. StarClan will forever know you as Sunstride. You are no longer the leader of WindClan.”

He finds his paws with a difficulty he had not felt since he first lost his leg. Every muscle trembles like a newborn lamb's upon unfamiliar ground. But he stands on his own, teeth gritted, ears back, and does not look StarClan in its eye. He feels the nameless cat leave him. Their voice is distant now. The circle of dead loom over Sunstride's bowed head as they murmur: “You now walk the path of a cat who turned away from their destiny. Go now, and may your paws tread carefully."

In Sunnvar's chest, a spark ignites.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 ️️️ ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈? ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞10.11⌝

• ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. —
  

  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐕𝐀𝐑. ️️️ SUNSTRIDE. SUNSTAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB , ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ FORMER LEADER ️️️ OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ HOW EASY YOU MUST THINK IT IS.

• 
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunnvar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg and his exhausted eyes.
  
  
  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to think of, the former leader of windclan has chosen a life far different than what he had promised himself.

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ Wolfsong does not mince his words. He lays the truth bare at their feet—WindClan is losing its leader and medicine cat in the same night. They are departing of their own volition, leaving behind everything that they have built together. The calico’s eyes narrow, but she listens to each of their explanations in silence. They have lost sight of the path that they are meant to tread, and so they are leaving to find it again. A better path, one that strays far from the moorland. She does not understand, until she does. Sunstar is tired, beaten down, and wants what is best for the clan that he pulled from the grip of Sootstar’s rot. And he believes that he is no longer what is best for it.

She had promised herself, once, that if he were to sway too far into madness, she would be the one to put him down. Now, she wonders how she had ever believed herself capable of it. Sunstar is her friend, perhaps the only one that she has left. "Sunstar, you…" can’t do this to us. Can’t do this to me. She grapples with the words, aware of how petulant they would sound if she were to speak them. It sounds as though he has made up his mind, and nothing that she says will change it—not that Scorchstreak would attempt to tether the tom here, when fate leads him elsewhere. She knows that this is the duty of a deputy, to take the leader’s place when the time comes, but Sunstar’s time has not come. He is not finished walking this earth, still carrying lives in excess. She is meant to serve under his reign until her days end, when her flickering embers die and she is replaced with another. Her fate was never to lead. Yet… it dawns on her, now. What has she done for the past weeks, the past month? While Sunstar was tucked away with his mate, she had led the clan in his stead. She. This is not new, the experience not something she is wholly unprepared for.

The press of Sunstar’s nose against the dark fur of her forehead cements her resolve. I know you will take care of them. "I will," she promises, her teeth clenched tightly together.

The two sleep, and Scorchstreak waits. Every so often, she glances to her side, to Cottonsprig. Does the medicine cat, with her connection to the stars, understand any of this better than she does? When the tom finally moves again, Scorchstreak regards him with sharp golden eyes, expectant. He appears rattled, weary. Weak. It must be no easy feat, telling the enigmatic stars farewell (and for good, if what he says is true). She says nothing for a few moments, prepared to accept whatever explanation the tom offers to them, and then asks: "What should I expect?" If she is to take leadership of WindClan, then she must receive the nine lives of a leader. It would be a mistake to leap headfirst into it without first preparing herself.

YOU KNOW I DESERVE IT ☽♰☾ WELL, TAKE IT OUT ON ME

• ooc: —
• 
• SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy of windclan, tunneler
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & brackenpaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​