The taste of his own blood still gags him. Beneath parted clouds, he can see the trail he has tracked β pawsteps of deep red from his puddle in the middle of camp. Still faintly black as the death he had expelled but with the sleek shimmer that WindClan must know all too well. Wolfsong will surely argue with him soon. He slips from beneath the worries to the base of the rock. Too tired to climb it, and without any desire to stand above them now. They are together in this suffering. Putting himself above them seemed a cowardly act. With the evidence of his loss still drying plainly from jaw to shoulders, Sunstar cannot imagine that he is anything of the sort. His heart begs him for a speech. Anything to soothe the looks of loss that gather around him now. No better than the early days of their fight against Sootstar.
Were they doomed to walk this path until their paws are worn through?
He cannot find any words that might soothe them now. "I know each of you shares my exhaustion. But we cannot allow a moment's rest. That these cats came upon us on the night of the Gathering speaks of their desperation and their shrewdness." The clouds had fallen across their eyes at the mere splatter of blood from his mate's nicked ear, and this β this is what became of their home in those same moments. More blood than Wolfsong's spilled across these moors; more than his own pride wounded. "There is no telling what will come of them next." Perhaps they will turn their greedy eyes towards another clan, knowing that WindClan once again has withstood them. Or perhaps Granitepelt lurked closer still, waiting for more lives that he may spill across their thirsty moorland.
"Rattleheart. Periwinklebreeze. Focus your repairs upon the nursery, and your nests. Settle your kits quickly as you can. Ensure that none are missing." The bodies that cool now just outside of it cannot steal his attention. One, at least, he may celebrate in. The otherβ a thunderous ache shares in blood's coppery taste when he swallows. The night that he had spoken bitterly of their losses now adds another to their freshly dug graves. A headache builds behind his eyes.
They close briefly, tightly, as he sighs out, "Dimmingsun," then, "no." Determination forces them open, and his gaze peels apart the darkened crowd before him until they alight upon two of his warriors. "Slateheart. Bluefrost. The both of you have proven yourself to be trustworthy warriors, willing to do what you must for the sake of this clan without losing yourself to this necessity. In times such as these, I know that your voices will guide light through our moors. The two of you are to work alongside Dimmingsun and secure our camp and our territory."
His energy having returned in a brief flash of hatred, Sunstar stands tall. His voice rakes through the delicate underbelly of the night. "This will not happen again. From tonight forward, until their DuskClan lies as little more than a pile of ash before our paws, we are to have a full patrol of warriors stationed as guards each night. Find a burrow where the kits may hide should they come for us again, and tunnelers to guard them there. They will not lie down in their defeat, yet neither will we fall lax in our triumph." To call it that with his throat sore, a gentle queen's body cooling too close for comfort, feels cruel. But he claims the word and sinks his heart into it. They survived, as they always would.
But he is sore, and the loss of a life is a heavy weight. From the first moment of his reawakening, stumbling alongside Wolfsong's shoulder through the flames, he has known that. Today death compounds upon his shoulders. Granitepelt and Rumblerain threaten to spill from his wounds as if they had become a part of him. "We will rest come morning," he tells the clan, his voice dropped to a rasp.
"Scorchstreak. Come with me to Wolfsong's den. I will need to speak to you here." Fighting off sleep and the chaos hovering above his clan, the sun-stained tom limps towards the tunnel.
Were they doomed to walk this path until their paws are worn through?
He cannot find any words that might soothe them now. "I know each of you shares my exhaustion. But we cannot allow a moment's rest. That these cats came upon us on the night of the Gathering speaks of their desperation and their shrewdness." The clouds had fallen across their eyes at the mere splatter of blood from his mate's nicked ear, and this β this is what became of their home in those same moments. More blood than Wolfsong's spilled across these moors; more than his own pride wounded. "There is no telling what will come of them next." Perhaps they will turn their greedy eyes towards another clan, knowing that WindClan once again has withstood them. Or perhaps Granitepelt lurked closer still, waiting for more lives that he may spill across their thirsty moorland.
"Rattleheart. Periwinklebreeze. Focus your repairs upon the nursery, and your nests. Settle your kits quickly as you can. Ensure that none are missing." The bodies that cool now just outside of it cannot steal his attention. One, at least, he may celebrate in. The otherβ a thunderous ache shares in blood's coppery taste when he swallows. The night that he had spoken bitterly of their losses now adds another to their freshly dug graves. A headache builds behind his eyes.
They close briefly, tightly, as he sighs out, "Dimmingsun," then, "no." Determination forces them open, and his gaze peels apart the darkened crowd before him until they alight upon two of his warriors. "Slateheart. Bluefrost. The both of you have proven yourself to be trustworthy warriors, willing to do what you must for the sake of this clan without losing yourself to this necessity. In times such as these, I know that your voices will guide light through our moors. The two of you are to work alongside Dimmingsun and secure our camp and our territory."
His energy having returned in a brief flash of hatred, Sunstar stands tall. His voice rakes through the delicate underbelly of the night. "This will not happen again. From tonight forward, until their DuskClan lies as little more than a pile of ash before our paws, we are to have a full patrol of warriors stationed as guards each night. Find a burrow where the kits may hide should they come for us again, and tunnelers to guard them there. They will not lie down in their defeat, yet neither will we fall lax in our triumph." To call it that with his throat sore, a gentle queen's body cooling too close for comfort, feels cruel. But he claims the word and sinks his heart into it. They survived, as they always would.
But he is sore, and the loss of a life is a heavy weight. From the first moment of his reawakening, stumbling alongside Wolfsong's shoulder through the flames, he has known that. Today death compounds upon his shoulders. Granitepelt and Rumblerain threaten to spill from his wounds as if they had become a part of him. "We will rest come morning," he tells the clan, his voice dropped to a rasp.
"Scorchstreak. Come with me to Wolfsong's den. I will need to speak to you here." Fighting off sleep and the chaos hovering above his clan, the sun-stained tom limps towards the tunnel.
π πππ ππππ ππππ ππ πππππππ β±
( ππππ π πππ πππ ) γ 06.17 γ
πα¨
- ooc: this was gonna be in the july meeting but yay emergency meetings :D CONGRATS TO SLATEHEART / IXO AND BLUEFROST / MARQ! the arc for these two has been absolutely delicious and i'm happy to welcome such involved peeps to sun's council. <3 yall are awesome
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β πππππππ. β± AMAB HE - HIM - HIS. LEADER OF WINDCLAN. β β β β β β βΜ΄ΜΝΝΜ» βΜ΅ΜΜΏΝΜΝΜΌΝ βΜΆΝΜΜ¬
ββββ 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 a lot to prove.
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 un-windclan 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; not even starclan could repair it.
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