DREAMS OF ASBURY SHORES, CHRYSANTHEMUMS ON THE FLOOR [ ❀༉‧₊˚ ] MIREPURR

[Starlingheart]

Starlingheart has seen this den go through too many faces now. She remembers cold nights curled into her mothers side in this den, remembers her claws scraping against the rock as she begged her brother to get better, "please don't leave me" uttered in the voice of a child as she sobbed into unmoving rosetted fur. Chilledstar's reign had been the longest she had seen by far and even that had not been nearly long enough. Nine lives and they didn't matter, not in the harsh world of the swamps where such a thing could be ripped away from you in the blink of an eye. She had seen it happen over and over again, had been forced to bear witness as those who stepped into the position were far too quickly ushered to the stars despite their blessing.

She had hoped for a different fate for Smogstar, but he had disappeared, gone in an instant and ShadowClan was left fumbling in the wake of his absence. The clan is grieving, she knows. But Starlingheart has faced grief countless times, has forced herself to get out of her nest and keep breathing, keep moving, more often than not. Survival did no favor idle paws, after all. But grief is a vicious beast, one who could force your head under water and drown you if you let it and doesn't she know the temptation? The urge to give in to the heavy eyelids and the exhaustion that weighs you down with every single forced step. It's what brings her to the leaders den now, lonesome green eye struggling to focus in the dim light as she beholds the cat within.

Their eyes are distant, as dulled as their pelt. She can only imagine the things running through their head right now, the heaviness of the burden that now lays upon their shoulders. "I brought you some-some water" she says as soon as she lays her bundle down at earthen paws, her quiet voice so loud in the cavernous space. "You need-need to d-drink something. Medicine cats orders." with one snow capped foot she reaches forward to nudge the soaked moss forward, features set into a determined line that spelled out her determination. Orders to leave would not deter her from the path she had set herself upon today. Mirepurr was stuck with her ghostly figure, whether she wished for her presence or not.

( ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ) fly me up on a silver wing

• 
  
  
• 
  STARLINGHEART SHADOWCLAN MEDICINE CAT; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO PITCHSTAR, CHITTERTONGUE, NIGHTSWARM, SKUNKTAIL, AND LILACFUR. MOTHER TO NETTLEPAW, FLINTPAW AND GHOSTPAW.
  

  A skinny she cat with short black and white fur littered with scars and one singular green eye.

  ✦ Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
  

 

[MIRESTAR]

When Mirepurr looks at Starlingheart, their grief battles with downright guilt — guilt, for daring to let themself drown, when she had gone through plenty more.

It is entirely thanks to luck that Mirepurr had been saved from this void of a feeling up until now. They felt something akin to grief for what could have been, an abstract concept... but never for somebody who might still be alive and kicking, just entirely out of reach. They had sympathized with Ferndance on matters of her daughter's disappearance; now they have the unfortunate chance to really empathize.

Desolate blues climb up, up, so that they could peer at Starlingheart; Mirepurr's head has been perched atop their front paws after all, almost melting with the empty ground. She should not see them like this... just like how Scalejaw shouldn't have, how Mapletuft shouldn't have, how none of them should.

Just lifting their head to address her takes more energy than they have stored away.

"Thank you," they say, because politeness comes as naturally as breathing. It is only when they glance at the pleasantly doused moss that their throat clicks with a swallow; they hadn't realized just how much they've been ignoring their own needs. Medicine cat orders, Starlingheart says, and there is no arguing with that.

Lapping at her offering has never felt so humbling before.

"Starlingheart..." Mirepurr starts with a sigh. Surely, she can aid them amidst the confusion and the uncertainty. She is as wise as the stars themselves. "Tell me, what should I do? I cannot just... replace him, if he is still breathing, but we can't go on like this forever."
​

 

[Starlingheart]

"No" she agrees with a breath "Y-your right about that…No one will ever be able t-to replace him." Smogstar's presence in this clan would never be so easily forgotten, not when his bloodline still carried on. Everytime she looked at his brood, pain shot through her heart as she thought about what they had lost. A feeling that was not unfamiliar to her. No, no one would ever be able to take his place in the same way Pitchstar had not been able to replace her mother, or Chilledstar her brother. ShadowClan would be forever changed once again, and Starlingheart is no longer certain whether that's bad or good but she does know this "But your also r-right about- about the other thing. We can't stay in the past forever, we have to-have to keep moving. Or else-or else we run the risk of-of stagnating" of looking even weaker to the other clans. She bites her lower lip in thought, in worry as she looks somewhere else for a long moment, single eye drifting to the walls of this oh so painfully familiar den.

When the moment passes, her lone gaze once again trains on the new leader. "I think we both know…. It's-it's time" she says, her words gentle, her eye swimming with sympathy. It was so hard, she knows, to move on when faced with loss. So hard to continue life as if it never happened, as if the other cat never was but… "ShadowClan needs you, needs a leader" she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Its time-time to-to go to the moonstone. StarClan- they sent me a sign…maybe they have answers for us" or perhaps they would just leave them with more questions.

( ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ) fly me up on a silver wing

• 
  
  
• 
  STARLINGHEART SHADOWCLAN MEDICINE CAT; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO PITCHSTAR, CHITTERTONGUE, NIGHTSWARM, SKUNKTAIL, AND LILACFUR. MOTHER TO NETTLEPAW, FLINTWISH AND GHOSTMASK.
  

  A skinny she cat with short black and white fur littered with scars and one singular green eye.

  ✦ Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
  

 

[MIRESTAR]

Starlingheart's confirmation is as soothing as it is unsettling. Is that how she had felt too, when Bonejaw all but abandoned ShadowClan, and forced her to take the mantle of next medicine cat at such a despairingly young age? Her and Mirepurr are more similar than they've ever considered before... maturity thrust upon them in a time of kittish innocence.

They do not ask her, but they do wonder: does she still feel bitter about it all? Mirepurr had thought they put the past behind them, but the rawness of Smogstar's disappearance has reopened those wounds.

"You're right," they murmur, even though they had known this to be true before Starlingheart said so. Of course, of course... so why is jumping headfirst into action so petrifying?

Stagnation. This again; like Scalejaw's lesson, the harsh reminder of what hesitance entails. Smogstar had made it all look so easy, the way he single-handedly pulled ShadowClan out of grief's cesspool. He had been glowing with the new fate, especially after StarClan kissed him nine times over. Born for this... can Mirepurr pretend to be the same?

Mirepurr does not stand up, but they do make themself look more presentable; holds their head that much higher, pulls their paws underneath them, curls a fluff of a tail around them for an inkling of faux-safety. "I'm glad I have you with me. The lead warriors are excellent, of course, but your guidance..." StarClan has given her a sign; Starlingheart herself might as be the sign.

"...I assume they didn't say anything specific?" they dare to ask — she has every right to deny their curiosity, as those conversations are private, but they don't have much to lose with a mere question anymore.
​