starclan HEAVY IS THE CROWN ♡ EIGHT LIVES...?

[MIRESTAR]

Every pawstep taken transforms them. Every mile creeping on closer to Highstones transforms them. Every single breath transforms them — Mirepurr for now, and who knows what after...?

The name Mirestar does not feel right. They wonder if it is akin to blasphemy to even turn it over within the confines of their cheek, tasting it and refusing the urge to wince, like it carries iron-tang with it. If they're lucky, they will not receive that new name... perhaps Chilledstar will pull them close with fur shimmering with the stars, amusement within their gaze as they break the news: Smogstar is alive, he's just hit his head, he's gotten a little lost on the way home.

Mirepurr's eyes glide over to Starlingheart beside them. Surely, if that is the case... StarClan would have told her so, instead of dragging them all the way over here. She's done this trip just a few moons ago. Had Smogstar been quiet, or had his desire to hear himself talk won him over in the end?

Bitter amusement flickers across their face. It is almost endearing to imagine.

The pair continue on in silence, and on occasion, Mirepurr sends a wayward glance to the skies, or towards their surroundings. WindClan has not been spotted; their patrols must have just missed the ShadowClanners. Perhaps a lucky sign... Mirepurr would not wish to jump to excuses, or stars forbid, get into a quarrel. Hostile warriors challenging a deputy with flimsy combat and a medicine cat in tow, whose own battles are conducted elsewhere, between life and death itself? It would not bode well.

They are spared from such antics. Night settles amongst the tussocks and the far-looming lands that remain unknown; Highstones themselves have not been familiar to Mirepurr until now. It had always been home to a plane that does not belong to them...

And before they know it, Mothermouth beckons; in the same moment, it deters.

Darkness yawns, darker than what they are used to. ShadowClan's marshes can be traversed now without proper focus, without even opening their eyes — years spent amongst the pine-litterd forest floor has made it certain. But this... Mirepurr is entirely out of their element here, and they are happy to allow Starlingheart to lead them.

If the night had been quiet before, it becomes dead silent now. Mirepurr shuffles behind Starlingheart; every brush of fur against walls, every sharp intake of breath, every flutter of eyelids is turned up to a maximum... they swear the volume is deafening, even as their ears press against their skull. Mirepurr has never known themself to be claustrophobic- but then again, they've never had to do this before.

"Starlingheart, I can't do this-" The sacred lack of words for this night is broken. Mirepurr stops themself from saying any more, but that panicked cry is out there now; it echoes throughout Mothermouth, and surely, StarClan themselves have heard every word, loud and clear.

Mirepurr comes to an abrupt halt. Their head is bowed and every muscle within their body is strained. Starlingheart does not need to say any more — if she attempts to console them, they simply nod, as a curt indication that they will not be turning back. They cannot do that- not to their Clan, not to themself. If Mirepurr is to see them again, it will be with concrete answers... not with the embarrassing admission that they turned tail and ran in the last heartbeat.

When they've shut their eyes hard enough for a headache to start, Mirepurr opens them once more. Wide blues stare into Starlingheart's sole green. She is still here... despite it all.

That is enough for them to keep going.

The thunderclap of Mirepurr's own heartbeat ushers them forward; sets a frantic rhythm for the two of them to attune themselves to. Their nerves are fraying at the ends, but they have to see this through, if they came this far. Would seeing Smogstar here be the better alternative?

Mirepurr's next breath gets stuck in their throat when the Moonstone finally presents itself, outlined by stalagmite and stalactite alike. Ethereal as is, without the whispers of StarClan within earshot; it glimmers under the moonlight that manages to peek in from the roof, and Mirepurr swears they've never seen anything quite as beautiful.

It breathes back sincerity into them as they regard Starlingheart. "Thank you." Regards her for the last time; for the next step is to curl up near the base of the Moonstone, and allow themself to be taken under StarClan's gentle wings.

Finally... a closing of eyelids, a sharp curl of cold as their nose touches the shining surface, and-

"...I'm ready."

HI thank you my sweet life givers... there is no order except for the very last one!

​

 

[STUMPYSPOTS]

StarClan pulls Mirepurr in with warm embrace, swaddled by stars. The clearing the crowd of StarClan cat’s surround them in is bright and ethereal. In these lands, Mirepurr is welcome, StarClan looks to them with a sorrowful smile.

”Welcome to StarClan, Mirepurr.” Comes a youthful but raspy voice. Breaking out from the starlit crowd is a small, calico she-cat. Her face void of the wrinkles and graying fur it once wore in life. Here she has taken on a form most cats had not been alive to see her in, young and in her prime, happy… truly happy… ”Yer too young to ‘ave known me in my current body, but you do recognize me? Don’cha?”

There’s a friendly twinkle in her eye, ”Ya know who I am. Stumpyspots. I wish we had time to share-tongues and catch up, but ‘uve got a clan back home that needs ya.” Her smile slowly falters into a frown, she shakes her head sympathetically. ”…I am… sorry, kid that yer called to duty so soon. I wish we could bring ya comfort with news of Smogstar's safety but… he is not here. We don’t know where he is.” She hurts for her clan, tragedy after tragedy. ShadowClan knew nothing of hardship, she wishes everything in her power that just once they’d have a moment of peace… But leaf-bare was coming, prey would grow scarcer and crow-food would begin to look like a tempting meal.

”Mirepurr, ShadowClan has endured so many hardships… Leading them through this difficult time will be hard. That’s why I give ya the life of endurance.” She places her nose onto theirs, glad to not have to stand on her tiptoes like she had to for the leader that came before. ”Use it to push forward even when yer belly is rumbling, when yer clan looks to you with droopy and sad eyes. Use it to know that when you think yer at your limit… that yer not. ShadowClan is strong, ShadowClan has always prevailed. They will do so still under yer leadership.” As her life flows through them they will undergo a frightening sensation, their heartbeat will quicken as they feel the world caving in around them. Then… strength, the power to fight even when all odds are stacked against them.

Stumpyspots draws back from them and offers her signature jolly smile. ”You’ll do good. Mirepurr. StarClan knows it.” Dipping her head one last time to the soon-to-be leader she withdraws and vanishes into the crowd.

*.☽ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Half Maw . Stumpyspots
  » ShadowClan Warrior
  » She/her ․ Twice Widowed
  » Calico she-cat with rounded features.
  » ”speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A heavy hitting foe capable of standing her ground
  » Excels in slow, but powerful blows and kicks.
  » Fights to defend and protect
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[loampelt]

Death had come for Loampelt far younger than it had come Stumpyspots. He doesn't have a younger face to wear or a time to crawl back into before he had known how to scowl. He recalls the strange feeling that had followed him that day—the knowledge that Loampelt wouldn't have forever to say everything he had ever wanted to say had persisted even when the rest of his mind had gone sluggish. Sleep had drifted over him after the complicated joy of a mutual confession, and then Loampelt had woken in a place that hadn't been the medicine cat's den.

Loampelt is already making his approach before Stumpyspots has taken her leave, his stride too fluid to be a limp despite the way his stiff limb moves as if it too is helping him along.

"Didn't think I'd suh-see a new face s-sss-so soon," Loampelt's eyes blink and his face twitches with every word, yet the corners of his grimaced mouth curl into a fond smile, "Remember me?"

The smile grows teeth, abruptly sardonic, "Siltcloud's f-fuh-first mate? After my death, I-ee-uh wanted t-tuh-to believe she had changed, buh-but the t-tuh-truth is that I nn-knew what she was luh-long before that," Her returns to camp with new scores in her flank that Loampelt had known better, despite himself, to ask about—the way a countless number of things bounced against the confines of his skull like a startled maggot, "Could huh-have prevented a few duh-duh-deaths if I said something, I-eee-uh suspect."

Rare as it is for Loampelt to take any amount of ceremony with anything approaching seriousness, he pulls himself into a proper stance now, puffs his starry chest and feels for the first time like he truly is a StarClanner.

"With this life, I-ee-uh give you foresight." He leans and touches his nose to Mirepurr's own, offers him the agony of betrayal and the ever-gentle burn of love. When Loampelt tips back, rights himself, his expression is more subdued than it had been before, "Use eh-eh-it better than I did eh-in my life."

With those parting words, Loampelt gives a shallow parting bow and then vanishes once more into the crowd of other StarClanners.

tags ∘ starclan warrior ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 15 moons

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[NETTLEPAW ♡]

His mother's there, beyond the veil. Another time, he'd see her again ... but he walks these planes before Mirepurr, instead. In truth, a face he wasn't expecting to give a life. Not this soon, at least. Stark face decorated with a smile, Nettlepaw looks no different than he had in life- a youthful body, on the cusp of a warrior name, heart on his throat split before he could have it. All the while, he's got a brightness about him. A humour, beating like ironic heartbeat, from the skin of a spirit ...

They know Ghostmask, now. Starlingheart knows it, because his sister was stupid enough to tell their father. Granitpelt's dead, somewhere else... and Ghostmask is dead behing the eyes, the blood of kin continuously staining his paws. Applejaw will understand it, too. Cannibalistic bite, she goes for the throat every time.

Endurance and foresight. Yeah, they're pretty good, pretty necessary- Nettlepaw can't fault his former Clanmates for any word of it. With bounding footsteps, the spangled cinnamon tom prances forward, ready to bestow his own necessity upon Mirepurr. "Good day," he chirps, lolling his head to the side a little. "Or good night, I suppose, but that sounds like I'm gonna knock you out..."

White ears angle to attention, and a fondness, glimmering, sapphire pride. "With this life, I give you gregariousness." His grin is still there, genuine ... imbued with all the humour he'd tried to bring in life. When he touched it to Mirepurr's, they will feel a satisfying exhilaration that rushes through them like a gasp. It's an addictive feeling- wanting to spark that smile on every face. The ebbing of the life is something tiring, though. WIthin it lies a desperation, a need for that feeling again and again and again. "Use it well to earn the undying favour of your Clanmates. We've always been an awfully grumpy bunch, haven't we? So be a light in the dark ... show them the way, aid them through their emotional ailments. Be their friend- and their loyalty will never waver."

There's a dip of his head- a silent request as he holds their gaze. My mother, my brother, be their friends too. He never wants to be replaced, but he wants to be remembered- and he hoped his spirit will sing in the words that Mirepurr will speak to them in moons to come.​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Pale mitted paws mark their way forward. She wonders if they can feel it — the newness of the glimmers than envelop her fur. It's only been sunrises since they've laid her body to the ground. Her body is just-barely cold. There would be some time still before the maggots find her, and yet, even after death, duty finds her with a quickness. Applejaw acts as if she belongs there, standing amongst ShadowClan's long dead. The face she assumed would be as it had been in life, unyielding stone, even as a strange sadness bubbled within her with the shifting of paws. Mirepurr should not be here. Nettlepaw, her former denmate glimmers with humor. Though she had never appreciate him in life, she saw now that she was no better than them. She was no better than any one of them.

Though she is undeniably her, she lacks the filling-out of a cat who is fully grown. There is a glimmer of youth in her eyes, one harkening back to the first moons of her apprenticeship. When Granitepelt had walked amongst them as Lead Warrior, his sins locked tightly behind his and Siltcloud's jaws. When her future had been bright, and it had seemed so easy to be the best warrior ShadowClan's ever seen. Before Applejaw could make it there, and stop to wonder, what comes next?

The mist shifts beneath her paws. Applejaw looks ahead; refuses to look behind her... Or was it that very thing that had gotten her killed? " Mirepurr, " her voice carries a certain distance, lacking the warmth with which their previous Clanmates had regarded them. It was not all cold. No, ShadowClan could not afford her foolishness. She would not pin her bitterness on them. She would not stunt their clan for the sake of her Father.

She wastes no more time. " I give you the life of integrity. " Her nose would meet theirs, and with its touch, Mirepurr would be flooded with the emotions she could not afford to wear on her face. Sinking past skin, down to the root, they should feel their own sense of self burn with ferocity. A dedication that would sear itself into the stone of their soul. " Know what you believe in. Know it well. Let your morals shift for nobody, " she says.

Applejaw does not intent to linger for long... but she cannot help but spare the split moment of observation, as she withdraws. In those eyes, she tries to glimpse the future of their Clan. " ...ShadowClan has yet to see a Leader like you, " she tells them. ...Soft. That's what she wants to say, but does not. Mirepurr was far from spineless, though. She has seen that much. " Make it count. " For her and Smogstar both, they needed to make it count.

She does not offer Mirepurr the parting bow that the others had. Her words have been sign of her respect, enough. With a flourish of her tail, Applejaw returns to the mist.​

 

[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — "... Don't be tempted to return so soon." He had said.

How quickly things turned for him to eat his words. His cheeky warning had shifted into one cast in doom and uncertainty. It had left the tom shaken to realize how little the stars could reach, how limited their influence truly was despite how grand the living made it seem.

"His connection feels so weak... How could this be? How could he be out of sight like this?" Dark-hued spikes blending against curly blues and whites, he had sat beside her in his doubt. Searching for a comfort she provided well, especially when regarding the tabby tom she longed for. "It feels wrong, being so blind. Why would he have done this?"

Mismatched eyes blink sadly at him and he can only feel his heart sink lower.

"We must have faith in Smogstar's choices." It's spoken as a reminder, gentle in tone. "I trust he chose Mirepurr for a great purpose. He would not leave ShadowClan if he didn't feel they were absolutely capable. ShadowClan will be safe in their paws." He rest his chin over the curve of her neck and sighed.

Though it is not the answer he sought, her reassurance is a gift in his hesitancy to accept the truth.

Now Sabletuft stood, this time without her at his side and he felt strangely alone despite the number of ShadowClanners surrounding the star-studded marshes. He cannot gather himself enough to listen to the wisdom they share and he hardly noticed when it was his turn. There is a notable pause before he padded forward, looking upon Mirepurr with question.

He must have faith in his friend. Sabletuft must, or he may have nothing else.

"There will be times where you cannot decide that you are ready." Sabletuft's voice is rough with a razor edge. Mirepurr is the exact kind of cat he would have found unworthy of the title they came for in his living days. When his heart was still poisoned with untouched grief and anger. Now, though, perhaps they are exactly what ShadowClan needs in these tumultuous times.

"Even the smallest of stones can unravel a mountain, your leadership may be called into question if you do not keep your mind sharp and claws ready. This position, this path you are traveling down, will not wait for you. Hesitancy can cost a life you could have spared." Mirepurr was still so young compared to the rest of their Clan, compared to him. They could not let their lack of experience be ShadowClans undoing.

"With this life I give you cunning. Like a fox can make itself a friend to chickens, or a wolf finding safety among sheep, you must adapt and plan however you can for ShadowClan to survive." Sabletuft touched his nose to Mirepurrs. White-dipped paws would shake as adrenaline rushed through every vein like a hot stream. A gasp of air in desperation to breathe as their lungs were squeezed tight, a fiery rush burning in their chest. It's deafening, the clanging bells of war and anguish tolling in their ears.

Then silence. Sabletuft paused again as he pulled away. His gaze lingered on the small lilac cat with a slow exhale, as if admitting defeat.

"You take this title from a very close friend of mine, Mirepurr. Please, do not squander it." — tags​

 

[orchidbloom]

As Sabletuft steps back, it is finally Orchidblooms turn and they move to the front to stand in front of the recipient of the nine lives. "Mirepurr.” Orchidbloom greets her friend with a body a little bit different than they’d remember; the happiest day of her life was the night she had confessed to Raggedbite, a few days after becoming Warriors, a day unburdened by her hatred and anger in her last few living weeks. She’s much happier, healthy, now… But she feels sad being here. Its not the lack of Raggedbite besides her...

She finally finds out whats missing in a split-second thought. "I never got to say goodbye. I'm so- sorry. But this is my good- goodbye, and hello again, and long time no see..." its much more lame-ly delivered than she means it to be.

She stands, hesitant as she fumbles through all of what she could say, what she needs to say, what she'd like to say... Before they lurch forwards, closer, almost muzzle-to-muzzle to them, now. "With this, I give you the life of acceptance." they finally press their nose to theirs. Claws rake across an eye and the world is plunged in to fury-filled darkness. The following hours, days, weeks are full of stewing anger, snapping at a loved one, gnashing teeth. This life received is full of agony and suffering, and the feeling of jaws closing around your throat as you reach for the cat you love the most, and then… The feeling of nothing but residuals. In the fading pain, anger, rage, grief that Mirepurr would feel… There are new blossoms of life, of happiness, of joy, of love. The terrible emotions that they would have once felt bleeds in to something new, the very basis of the life she gives: acceptance. Contrary to most of their other lives (something Orchid feels terrible about), this life is downright painful to receive before it ebbs in to something comforting, even if it were small...

She pulls back, eyes darting to the sidelines as if searching before their eyes settle back unto the chocolate smoke. "Accept what you cannot c- ch- change.” she breathes, whether this is a piece of advice or something that comes with the life of acceptance is up for debate… “There will always be things you cannot change, no matter how much it hurts, no matter the what ifs, no matter if its not even your fault.” she knows this very well… And perhaps if she had been given this life moons ago, her final moment may not have been spent in snapping rage. If Mirepurr were to look in their eyes they would see a certain accepted grief, a look of understanding, a look of please, please take this lesson and use it.

They finally speak again after a few heartbeats, this time it is much warmer and less like they are lecturing. "I always had faith in y- you… You’ll do well, Mirepurr. I know you- you will.” she speaks to her friend with such conviction that it hurts her heart when she realizes that she won’t be there, living to see Mire’s reign. At the very least she can watch from above as their leadership progresses, giving advice is they so needed... And that is what is most important to her. Finally satisfied, she lingers awkwardly for a second, not yet wanting to leave but feeling the pull to... "I guess... this is goodbye again." Finally, she flashes them that awkward, too-much-fang smile they had in their living days, and then turns to depart in to the mist to watch the rest of the ceremony.

𝙲𝚁𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝙳 - 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝚈 -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- 𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁

• 
  ❥ orchidkit, orchidpaw, orchidbloom
  ❥ demi-girl ,, she/they ,, 17 months
  ❥ warrior of starclan ,, former warrior of shadowclan
  ❥ lanky yet fluffy cinnamon smoke she-cat with wide blue eyes
  ❥ "speech, d1afed" ,, thoughts
  ❥ bisexual ,, mates with raggedbite
  ❥ smells like lilies and iris'
  ❥ chibi by I-IALCY0N ,, penned by chuff

​

 

[LEAPING TOAD]

✧ . A scrawny, brown tabby form emerges from the stars next. Despite having been here — star-bound, away from his home, the living remnants of the family he left behind — longer than most that have greeted the soon-to-be leader, Leaping Toad stands as the youngest of the group before Mirepurr. All too soon, just as his death, they stand before a leader anew.

And it is a child-like fear — wonder, more so — that makes him question the circumstances: a ceremony made without a life he bestowed, had it been his lack of presence that made this so? Is it because of him that Smogstar is lost to the marshes, that Mirestar will return to them?

If so, he's certain to not let such happen again, to not let his home lose this leader too.

" Hello, Mirepurr, " he greets the new face, blue-hour eyes cast upward at the incumbent leader. Do you remember me? he almost asks before a frown grows on his face, a realization — no. " You don't remember me do, you? You can't — " For he doesn't remember them, doesn't remember playing with them in a colony known by a different name in his livelihood, doesn't remember mud-cast games with the cat before him: someone who can't really be much younger that his brother, than Leaping Toad.

" My brother, " he offers instead, eyes alight, " You know him — you have to! We were born in the Marsh Group, our training bound by play. We fought in the Great Battle. Only one of us made it out… " A given, of course: he stands here now, star-bound and separated. A blur of orange claws at the back of his mind, burning at his shoulders, his neck.

Though a fate necessary for the clans' forging, the child wonders who he'd be — had he made it out alive, had he grown just as his brother had, just as the clans he'd watched day in and day out. Leaping Toad would be content, if he turned out anything like Ribbitleap. A good warrior, a good cat. Just as Mirepurr, he deems now, a small nod of his head in confirmation to himself.

" You will lead him well, " he confirms, " You will lead all of ShadowClan well. " The brown tabby straightens his shoulders, lets the smile fall from his face, and gets on with his part of the ceremony.

" With this life, I give you hope. " That of which he gave Chilledstar, that of which lasted them a long time. He thinks it's a good one. Leaping Toad shifts closer, reaching upwards to touch his nose to Mirepurr's. He lets childlike joy rush though them, an energy bound to play-spars and fog-borne stealth. It is bright, a fire only burning further by the adrenaline of a real battle fought too young, all consuming in sudden sharp strikes and suffocating in its final moments.

And when the fire extinguishes, he steps backwards. " With all the clan has lost — " Leaping Toad thinks of those standing behind him, some faces still so new to him, to the stars — " ShadowClan needs it more than ever, and your clan will be looking to you for it. You have the ability to guide them, to give them a brighter future. Lead them to it, please. " Faith carried in Chilledstar, he now bestows upon Mirepurr.

One more thing. There's always one more thing.

" Tell my brother I said hello, " he says. A request changed, he knows he'll have to find different means to greet his mother in now. " Ribbitleap. Tell him… Tell him I'm proud of him. "

He steps back, his head dipped in farewell to the soon-to-be leader. " You'll do great. " And then, just as those that preceded him, he steps back into starlit mist, waiting for the next set of paws to step forward. ​

✦ ABOUT

• 
  LEAPING TOAD ✦ AMAB. He / Him. Resident of StarClan.
  ✧ . A brown tabby and white tom with blue eyes.
  ✧ . Geckoscreech x Toad's Prowl
  ✧ . Mentored by the Marsh Group
  ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
  ✧ . Penned by Abri ‣ @_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
  ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
  

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

this was supposed to be what smogstar was doing. but he is no longer that. he has left his clan behind, off on some journey that none of them really can say. they don't know, either, and part of them only cares because of the hurt he's left behind. his children, cats within the clan who simply miss him and needed his leadership. but he cares not enough ti stick by. thus, chilledstar does not care enough to feel sorrow for smogmaw and all that he does. he's chosen himself time and time again. this time is worse, but it is still the same result. they wish him well, wherever he is, but at the same time, the clan needs a leader. mirepurr should not have had to step up so soon.

"when i invited you to my counsel, I did not expect to see you at its helm so quickly. still, you are here in front of me and I can say i am proud of you. I've seen you grow into an amazing cat. and I know that with the kindness in your heart, you will be a better leader than i could ever be. better than anyone before myself, too."

they're not immune to their own flaws. everyone has them. they wonder, somewhere, what mirepurr's will be. only time will tell. their tail flicks as they sigh, gently humming with a twitch of their ears.

"because he is not dead, i am sorry to say you do not get the full scope of all nine lives. even starclan's greatness has its limits which is why this one will be your most important. it will count the most. do not tell your clan of this, lest they believe you to somehow be less worthy. you are not. you deserve the banner of lives as much as we did but we cannot... grant you this. I'm sorry. though perhaps it is of some comfort to know that smogmaw still lives."

it is all they can offer them. they step forward, straightening themself and speaking finally.

"that being said, the life i give to you is the life of loyalty. as much as your clan must be loyal to you, you must be loyal to them. they come first. they look to you for help, for guidance, for everything. loyalty rewarded is loyalty that stays. remember that."

they press their nose to the other's head, giving them their last life and stepping back.

"say hello to everyone for me, mirestar. and should you ever need my guidance, you know just where to find me. best of luck. don't screw it up."

chilledstar dips their head, giving their new leader their name and stepping away. mirestar would be a fine leader. they hope they have that same faith within themself.

———————---***i try to live in black and white***———————---​

but i'm so blue✧ i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you

•  
• — black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and a blue single eye. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, one across their missing eye and the one across their neck.
  — 48 moons old; no longer ages
  — they / them pronouns
  — aromantic / homosexual ; not looking
  — child of JAGGED and RAVEN
  — starclan / formerly 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

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