a destiny changed | shadowclanner




The dream she has gone through has left her in a whirlwind of emotions. No longer did she have a choice about rather she could join Cicada in Riverclan. No longer did she have a choice in going anywhere at all but to stay within the marshes of Shadowclan. That was what her dream had meant, the one in which she would go anywhere, walk as far as she could and never leave the marshes before the stone so bright would appear. It told her exactly what they wanted her to do and she did not realize it till she went to the stone with her sister. Saw it all for herself and now her heart feels heavy, feels pierced and hurting. Her time for fighting is over, that is what Hare Whiskers told her. That now she is to be the connecting to the stars that Shadowclan needs, that she is supposed to heal and mend the things that have been broken but at the cost her of her whims. At least in her mind that is what this costs her, the ability to go where she wants, the ability to choose her own steps. She is bound by the stars now and though she had hoped that things wouldn't be like this in the back of her mind she supposes she knew that this may happen. The dreams were strange enough to get her thinking and now after everything. She's trapped within her own home. This is where she belongs, this is where her loyalty will always be. There can be no possibilities of anything else.

The idea along makes her feel tense even as she had woken up from the dream before her sister, left the cave suddenly and swiftly before her sister. Now as she races across moorlands and through forests she feels terrible about it. Terrible because her sister is pregnant, and though not yet too heavy she still left her to fend for herself and to get back to the marshes. Though she doubts of Windclan finds her they will do anything to her. Still it is on her mind and her paws slow as she hears the bubbling of the river and then they stop as she comes to the waters edge. She will not cry she's done with crying. She's shed too many tears these past days and she just feels worn, tugged along a path she never thought suitable for her own paws. Blinking her water eyes she into the water of the river, unsure of where the Riverclan cats have housed themselves. It's just the river to her and so she calls out with a heavy tongue. "Cicada? Cica! I need to...." She needs to do what? Tell him.

Tell him she can not follow him. That she is bound. She is Bonejaw, medicine cat of Shadowclan.

-- feel free to respond before cicada does!
Uhm, hello?” Otter calls out as he appears out of seemingly nowhere (though was really just a fast runner) from the other side of the bank with wide eyes. Theres a tall, black female with misty eyes and Otter feels his heart go out to her, though he hesitates as he sticks a paw in the river to go forwards to her.

Are you okay? I can go get him!” he shouts back, ears flattened against his skull. He refuses to go out far enough in to the river, not after he fell in, not without Buck there. Speaking of… He squints, sort of hoping that this girl is Buck, but the voice doesn’t match up and the pelt is the complete opposite.

He knows not of what she will tell Cicada, but he’s bunching up his legs to go sprint once more to grab him. The curly furred leader shouldn’t be too far.
The smell of the marsh is not one that he could ever forget. It is an instinct to tense his muscles when it carries to him. He could see blood staining snow white fur. He could hear the cries of the grieving and wounded. He could feel his own claws drain the life from another. An accident, he'd said. It was an accident, just an accident, he didn't mean to.

But the cat he finds at the end of the trail does not possess a coat of white, nor does blood tarnish her image. Beesong brushes against Otter, finding comfort in the proximity of another. It steadies him enough for Beesong to imitate a nonchalant smile. "The water doesn't bite! ... Usually!" He calls across the river to the she-cat, as deadpan as ever. It's a rather hypocritical statement as he, himself, does not touch the water unless necessary. But that's neither here nor there. "Whatcha need Cicadastar for?" Here to visit a friend, maybe?

With a closer look at her, however, they can see that she's agitated over something. Beesong stiffens, their eyes narrowing. Her eyes are misted over with the beginning of tears. Otter has already offered to go and get Cicadastar, but Beesong doesn't want to be alone with this unfamiliar ShadowClanner... Even if they don't think she'd try anything, even if she does not dare cross the river, their chest still constricts at the thought. "Nah, I'll go and get 'em," they tell Otter.

Beesong doesn't wait for an answer. They turn on their heels and trot off towards the makeshift camp.

− ♱ ABOUT : loneliness. his chest ached with it ; though quiets presence was a nice lull amongst the sea of faces, tucked to his side as he rested in his den, watching the sun arise through the sparse, low - hanging willow leaves. he’d fallen in love with the way it bathed his den in shadows of pale, blushing pink and blues — the nearby waters cast in rippling waves of light. the marshlands seemed almost foreign to him now ; the chewy tackiness of frog and lizard, picking scarce meat from too - brittle bones. it was a dank, dark place ridden with shadow and low fog, the sparse greenery hardly enticing any prey to begin repopulating the area for them to survive. he worried for those that remained, his friends . . or what few of them remained after the heated exchanges of battle. salamander weighed heavy on his heart, early - morning thoughts often trailing towards that of the woman’s violent grief. to briar, newly widowed and to lead a clan despite it, building them from the rubble of their mistakes. to the youths that lost their mother, towards fox despite her presence within their river borders. loss had torn them limb from limb, feasting on the marrow of their grief long after their dead were buried.

it’s why when bee arrives to tell him of a certain bicolored molly from shadowclan taking up residence along their border, his heart spikes ; beating rapid against fragile rib bones as he stands, nearly toppling himself over in the process. his wounds scream at him, fresh and rioting up the length of his throat with the abrupt movement. a shadowclanner. cicadastar can’t help the way his paws move with a hastened step, claws digging into the waterlogged soil to bring him to a wider stride, trying his best not to seem to eager to reach the waterfront. his warriors were to keep an eye out for intruders after his encounter with the brown tabby over the windclan moors, but this call comes output the tendrils of panic that creep slow up the length of his limbs, biting nerves like burrs embedded in his paws. it’s a comfort ; the momentary lapse in suffocation, lungs no longer feeling too claustrophobic within his chest. he had a rousing suspicious of who was here, and after their last talk under the bustling thunderpath, he wasn’t expecting bad news. she’d liked the fish he’d brought, he could see it — he knew the slopes of her features, her expressions, too well. he’d studied them through childhood, through their training moons under hare whiskers. he knew her like the back of his paw.

there was a reason she was here, and he knew it would be good news.

as soon as the dark felidae is in sight, his stride picks up to a trot, curled tail swiping wide at the ground behind him, “ liebling, you’ve finally come! “ accented vocals are alright with glee as he finally comes close enough to attempt brushing up against the woman’s slim side, curls damp against her sleek coat and rounding her, letting his tail flick her shoulder as he finally comes to a stop to her front, and . . something was wrong. eyes alight mere seconds before seem to dim with uncertainty, his brow coming to a gently furrow, quirking in concern, “ . . what happened? bone? “ icewater luminaries are searching her face visibly, finally settling on brilliant orange. she’d been crying . . a shock of panic pushes at his sternum but he does his best to stifle it, snowy forepaws fidgeting subtly at the ground.

  • CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
    − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
    − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers

  • none.


it's a long way forward, so trust in me

Ash doesn't know what's going on, but she's here, a tiny orange kitten bouncing along behind Cicadastar. She saw Beesong running for him, saw them leave, and she was so curious! What else was she supposed to do but follow?

She's trying to be sneaky, an itty-bitty furball crouching in the reeds behind their leader, scampering after his steady stride, pausing to crouch lower to the ground, and then scampering again. As Cicadastar catches up to the small gathering of cats, so does Ash. She lifts her little head above the brush to get a better view, orange ears sticking up to the sky.

The clan is so full of people now. When they came to the riverbank, an even tinier Ash following along behind her parents in a crowd of ragged battle-scarred coats, there weren't many of them. But now loners and kittypets have fleshed out their ranks, and the clan is full of cats, many of them strangers. So a new stranger on the territory doesn't really scare her, especially when Cicadastar seems so happy to see the brown-faced molly-- although there is a scent about her, sharp and distinct, not like those of the loners who've slept a few nights by the river. (It's a scent that'd give some of her clanmates nightmares, but Ash doesn't know enough to identify it as the scent of the marshes.)

"She smells funny," Ash whispers very, very loudly, then squeaks as she realizes she's given herself away.

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

  • - three moons old
    - will bite you
    - will put nettles in your nest
    - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
    - she's trying her best, i swear


A cat approaches and he calls out from the other side of a small island. Her gaze stares, glassy, towards him as he speaks about if she is okay. No, she isn't. She is far from okay and when he offers to go and get the one she is here for the molly merely nods quickly. "Please." The woman calls out and then another appears and she looks at them, hearing a joke about how the water doesn't bite very much. Ears pull against her skull and she looks terrible, she's tired from her lack of sleep but she realizes that the Riverclanner called him Cicadastar. For the moment she has no idea what that is and it puzzles her greatly. It makes no sense to her emotionally addled brain and she takes in a deep breath as finally someone goes to retrieve her friend.

Her jaw clenches and she steps back and forth along the bank of the river, waiting and thinking. All she has been doing is thinking and she wishes she could just stop for a moment. Just to rest and not think about all the things that have happened. All the things she sees as only ruin. It's so draining and she sits down on her haunches even as the sound of rushing pawsteps come up to her. His scent wraps around her, the river having almost taken what was once familiar away. Her jaw quivers at his words and she leans forward to press against him. Just for a moment. Just to take some time. This can perhaps be one of the last times she can see him.

She doesn't know what it all means nor how the future will change potentially everything. He sounds so excited to see her. So happy, and she can understand this. It's because he thinks she's come to join him here in Riverclan. She wonders why it stabs her heart so much and for a moment she just can't speak. Those tears she has been holding back drip from her eyes as she blinks before she just forces herself to get it over with. Even as a kit comes stumbling to the scene she keeps her eyes on Cicada. "I'm sorry, Cica. I can't come with you to Riverclan. I thought about, I was going to choose of my own free will but that's been taken away. Starclan decided my destiny for me. I'm bound to the lands I was raised in and I'm forced to stay. I'm now Bonejaw, medicine cat of Shadowclan and it is where I will stay." But she also realizes something, eyes roaming over him before she asks. "What happened to you?"
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