sensitive topics I CAN'T FIND YOU IN THE BODY SLEEPING NEXT TO ME ა❤︎໒ death

[✧ Siltcloud.]

◇​◇ I FOUND A MARTYR - HE TOLD ME THAT I'D NEVER ◇◇​

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siltcloud & 16 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan warrior ​

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This is not how things were supposed to be.

Loampelt was hers - he'd promised her, hadn't he? She'd knew it moons ago, even when he'd tried to deny it. They had an unshakable bond, unbreaking. He'd changed his mind, just like she'd known - they were supposed to be inevitable. Everything she'd done was for him - or at least, for them. Granitepelt may have been her brother, but she would not have stooped so low as to participate in his half-baked plans were she not certain the outcome would be good for her partner's safety. Surely, whatever came of this would be for the best - far better at least, then the chaos that was shadowclans current state.

She's been busy - her escapedes far less frequent, sure, but Catterpillarpaw takes up what little time remains in her schedule. And Lilacfur is now in charge of her neice, her favored child - all the more reason to be a good example. With sp much to do and so little time, she's seen him so infrequently, spent so little time with him. But it'd never seemed like a problem before.

Because they were supposed to have forever.

Something is wrong. At first, siltcloud is to tired to put her paw on what has her feeling so uneasy, mind still half-dazed with sleep as she wakes that morning, chilled. Starlingheart's den is quiet in the dawn, sure, but that's only to be expected. But there is something wrong. It's not until she feels the touch of fur against her pelt that she startles - that she remembers the night before, and exactly why she'd slept here.

"... loampelt?" hardly more than a whisper, throat choked up and voice strangled as she cranes her neck to look at the feline laying at her side. This can't be happening - certainly, she is seeing wrong... right? Fear trickles down her spine, pelt bristling in her unease. He's not moving - not breathing. A gentle paw prods ink-blot frame again, and she shudders as it only confirms what her eyes have already seen. He's far too still, too silent - too cold.

Movements become frantic as she pulls herself to her paws, and she shakes him - as though this is possumpaw all over again, simply a foolish child playing ill thought out jokes upon her. Because loampelt can't be dead - it's not possible. He- he- he wouldn't leave her, not now. They were supposed to have the rest of their lives together after all. He'd promised.

The noise that leaves her is gutteral - something feral and broken. Vision narrows, clouded by fat tears that spill down her cheeks, warm and salty, as she screams. Starlingheart has failed again - and loampelt is gone. Not even a full day has gone by, and already her mate is dead.

Starclan has taken him from her.

Legs tremble as her painted face buries itself into his fur once more, as though that will muffle her cries - as though she has not already woken the clan with her wails, her grief. She holds herself over his frame, coiled protectively as though a serpent posed to strike - she'll protect him, she thinks shatteredly, just like she promised. Even if it is only his corpse left, she will not leave him.

— with his educated eyes and his head between my thighs ♙

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — A dust hued cinnamon tabby with white markings and sage green eyes. Her fur is dull and unkept, her figure frail and slight, and she most notably has five toes upon each of her four paw. With the death of loampelt, something within siltcloud seems to have changed - no longer is she as soft-spoken as before, instead easily snapping at her clanmates and throwing herself into training her apprentice.
  
  — physically medium && mentally hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#ddadaf]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[lilacfur]

One tragic loss after another and Lilacfur had felt deeply shaken from it all. She had done her best to remain hopeful in ShadowClan's plight, trying her best to remain an optimistic approach to it all. That it all had a reason, that StarClan would reward them for their unending faith, that this blight would surely come to an end before it consumed them all.

But then they kept taking.

StarClan kept taking.

And taking.

It had started with her mother, hadn't it? Ripping all of her blessings away one by one, crushing her under the weight of death mercilessly until she had finally faded away. Lilacfur had still held her faith even then, that truly StarClan did not intend for the Matriarch of the Marshes to end that way. The first leader of the forest, to die so viciously.

But their test in her conviction showed no relief.

Lilacfur had drawn to Siltcloud's anguished cry in buzzing fear of what she would be met with. Pale eyes took in her friends grieving form, hunched over another's, limp. Loampelt. For a moment she had refused to accept it, the sight of his stillness. No movement from his chest to show he lived. Not even a small twitch of his nose. After all of the scares, all of the effort to get this far, they took him now?

"Siltcloud..." Lilacfur swallowed hard, her own voice struggling to remain steady. The nest they shared told her just enough how close the pair were, and part of her is surprised she hadn't noticed. She feels guilt. She feels pity. She feels weighted from the rock sinking in her gut.

"May he follow StarClan's paws safely..." She doesn't know what else to say.​

[ sad hello's and mad high low's ]​

 

[Starlingheart]

If she is seen as a bad omen by the rest of her clan she could not blame them. She certainly felt like one sometimes. These days she finds she only leaves her den for a paw-full of things. A trip to the dirt place or the prey pile, a quick romp about the territory to search for more herbs to use on the patients that slowly wither away in her den. She is helpless to do anything but watch, her once vibrant green eyes dull with pain and grief.

Loampelt was another cat that she could not save. She had tried and tried and tried. Every seizure bringing about new rounds of medicine. But there was no cure for whatever it was that had ailed him, try as she might there was nothing that could be done.

Nightime offered some reprieve for her, when she could actually sleep. But most nights were spent tossing and turning in her nest before she gave in and went outside for fresh air, free from the sickly sweet scent of illness that permeated her den currently. Tonight though, the usual peace that came under the cover of darkness would be interrupted by wails of grief, cats stir all about the camp to figure out what is going on and, as if by instinct, she finds that her paws carries her towards the warriors den, the source of the noise.

It does not take a medicine cat to diagnose what has happened here. The second she lays eyes on her sister and law and the cat who she buries her face into she can guess what has happened. Loampelt's fur does not stir with breath, he was gone. It is hard to feel more grief when already she feels so much of it but she does look on sympathetically. "I-I will gather a couple of others to-to dig a grave. Lilacfur if-if Siltcloud will let you pluh-please move his- his body to the center of camp" and with that she turns and leaves. There was a space next to Heavybranch lay now that needed to be prepared.

​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

Wails of grief rouse him from his temporary nest in the warrior’s den. He should be accustomed to the sound, now—yellowcough continues to plague their elderly, their children, their strongest and weakest. He recognizes this yowl, though, ripped brokenly from his sister’s throat. Granitepelt moves past the cats milling awake, ambling around Starlingheart’s den. For a moment, a flash of annoyance streaks through the gray warrior. He should be the one sleeping within, safe and sound with his mate, not Siltcloud curled around a dying cat…

He is not shocked to hear that Loampelt has died. Nor does he grieve. Granitepelt, in fact, has to conceal a small smile when he realizes what’s going on. His sister’s dull sandy-red fur meshes with cold, stiff black, her paws kneading a cat who will never rise again.

“I’m sorry, Siltcloud.” He pads closer, until he is only a small space away from his littermate. “He’s really gone, huh?” False misery clouds his dark eyes.

Again, he has to prevent himself from smiling.

ooc ✧ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊, 𝖎 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖔 - 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗, 𝖎 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚?

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  — granitekit . granitepaw . granitepelt
  — he/him ; warrior of shadowclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Starlingheart
  — short-haired gray tom with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Meg

​

 

[GECKOSCREECH]

*:･ﾟ✶ shadowclan is no stranger to tragedy, they've already lost so many this past season and with yellowcouch spreading through the entire territory like an uncontrollable wildfire they were only going to lose more and what is worse is that there was nothing anyone could about it until the return of the journey cats. for now they are simply forced to watch as clanmates deteriorate over a period of time until death finally grants them relief from their suffering.

there was no escaping from this cycle of agony and tonight did nothing more than to solidify that thought further as the clan is awaken by the guttural noises of heartache. geckoscreech slips free from the leader's den, gaze flicking over the small crowd that has gathered around the clearing, chattering over what just happened and before she knows it the word reaches her ears. loampelt is dead. paws would silently take the older warrior to the side of another closeby, expression furrowed almost quizzically. geckosreech was well aware of the younger warrior's uncontrollable seizing but of all the times it happened he would always get back up after a minute or two. perhaps he failed to recover this time. "how many more bodies must we put in the ground before we have no more paws left to dig the graves." her words are muttered, devoid of any strong emotion as she watches as a bystander.

they'll hold a vigil, they always do for the fallen but how many will truly grieve beyond a surface level besides siltcloud who was the closest to loampelt. it's a harsh reality but with death becoming a more common occurance it's begun to dull the senses.

⌜ AS SHARP AND SERIOUS (〤) AS A PISTOL IN THE EYE ⌟

• 🟆
  
• perhaps larger reference added here?
  
• 
  ━━━ geckoscreech
  ━━━ 61 moons.
  ━━━ she/her ; warrior of shadowclan.
  ━━━ bisexual ; taken by chilledstar
  ━━━ sh choco. silver rosette tabby w/ aqua eyes.
  ━━━ "speech" • 'thoughts' • attack
  ━━━ penned by cobatic
  ━━━ art/base by ______
  
  
  

​

 

[✧ Siltcloud.]

◇​◇ I FOUND A MARTYR - HE TOLD ME THAT I'D NEVER ◇◇​

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siltcloud & 16 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan warrior ​

---

The voice that drowns out her muddled thoughts is a familiar one - green eyes flicking to land on pale pelt and gold eyes. "H-h-he," voice fails her, stuttering, and she can hardly choke back her sobs. Follow starclans paws? Why? Why should he? Why does starclan get to take all her friends? Shadowclan is a cursed place after all, she thinks listlessly - from their first leader to their last, they have been cursed, so why must they pay for others sins?

Teeth snap in warning what starlingheart walks by - and really, it's only granitepelts arrival that keeps her from giving in to the range that clouds her mind. It's her fault after all - some medicine cat she is, following in her aunts pawsteps with her inability to save those who matter most. She doesn't get what her brother sees in the she cat, no not at all. "Starclan took him - stole him," she mutters tiredly, body sagging as fiery rage cools into something duller.

"Don't - don't touch him... I'll move him myself," Friend or not, why should they be given the right? "You said you wanted to wake up beside me - so why didn't you?" she says quietly, staring down at black fur she'd known so well. They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together, but Loampelt had lied - he'd left, and she's still down here, in this starclan forsaken marsh. There is no answer but the sound of her own heart breaking, and so she simply takes another shuddering breath, willing away the rest of her useless emotions, drowning out her morbid thoughts. He needs to be moved - so they can mourn, so he can be buried.

Maybe, if she's lucky, she'll get to be buried beside him some day.

— with his educated eyes and his head between my thighs ♙

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — A dust hued cinnamon tabby with white markings and sage green eyes. Her fur is dull and unkept, her figure frail and slight, and she most notably has five toes upon each of her four paw. With the death of loampelt, something within siltcloud seems to have changed - no longer is she as soft-spoken as before, instead easily snapping at her clanmates and throwing herself into training her apprentice.
  
  — physically medium && mentally hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#ddadaf]action here[/color][/b] and tag account