sensitive topics A HOME FOR FLOWERS // joining, injuries

[MORNINGBIRD]

---

---

'You have to keep going.'

'I have to keep going.' The thoughts echo through his skull, both in his ears and in the distance. Every step reverberates through his body like lightning, but the tom does not stop, trying not to bite too hard into the scruff of the kitten in his mouth. Another clings onto his back like his namesake, tiny claws reaching through a mane of fur to prick into his skin. They are tired, he is tired, but he must get them somewhere safe.

The adrenaline stopped hours ago, and he has not slowed for anything. He did not have the luxury, not when he didn't know what could be following his trail. Colonies, clans, he had heard the names over and over, ushered his youngest kits, barely grown, into their nest while screams rang out in the distance not even a full season ago. Sat watch with dear, sweet Nora in case the fighting got louder. He had kept them away from it all, but ten had become three in the blink of in eye. He had no choice, following the river down through the center trees, to the place where greenleaf had known anguished screams. 'But it has to be worth something, groups larger than families, it has to be. They have lasted nearly as long as I.' Burr thinks to himself, pulled dazedly from his head by the crying of one of the kits and the reek of more scent markers assaulting his nose. Something he'd hopefully get used to, if he ever had the chance.

He sets down one kit, reaching clumsily for the other on his back to place next to their sibling. Anxiety rolls off of him in waves, seeming only to agitate the kits' crying as he struggles to stay steady. "Please, Please someone! I seek sanctuary! If not for me then for my kits!" This one, this clan, word spread that they were kinder to outsiders. That was why he kept running, why he did not stop until the river gave way to pines at the edge of twolegplace. Gave way to the forest he once explored as a sprout.

He had to make this work.

[ooc: mans is old, there's a large gash to his left hindquarters that was made most definitely not by cat teeth as well as some other small injuries. The kittens, two of em, are unharmed, just very jostled and hungry]​

---

---

header by lleafeons on DA, fancy via chérie​

 

[~Deersong~]

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒​

---

"Make sure your claws are nice and deep in the bark before you try to pull yourself up, Snowpaw. We don't want you to-"

Deersongs' gentle coos of instruction would be interrupted by a call for help and the cream and mocha molly would turn her head sharply towards the source. Getting to her paws from where she had been sitting among the roots of the tree, she would tilt her head before meowing back to her apprentice, "Come on, Snowpaw. Some cat needs help." Only when the young tom was at her side would she start her gallop towards the shout, a frown set on her normally content face.

She scented the air as they got close, and the metallic sting of blood would invade her senses. Touching her apprentice's shoulder with her tail in a silent order to remain close to her, she would push through the foliage and blink at the sight before her. "Oh, stars..."

An old tom, with two mewling kittens between his paws and the poor things all looked worse for wear. She would step forward fully, concern glittering in her aqua gaze, "This is Skyclan territory, brotha'. No need to bug out, we won't hurt you or your kittens. I'm Deersong a lead warrior of Skyclan and this is my apprentice, Snowpaw."

The molly would take a few more tentative steps forwards as she continued to speak in her comforting coo, "What are you asking for safety from? That wound looks pretty bad..." She had half a mind to send Snowpaw back to camp to get some others and after a moment she would look over her shoulder to nod to the tomcat to do just that. Get some others, and Dawnglare if you can.

//
Just tagging the usual lol

@Snowpaw @BLAZESTAR @Daisyflight @DAWNGLARE @REDSTORM !
​

 

[Daisyflight]

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"​

Apprehension curdled into a bitter sympathy as the trespasser spoke. The irritation was levelled solely at herself however, a flood of feeling as ‘kits’ came into question. So prepared to treat the situation with the necessary professionalism and now? Lids slid back to crown worried fern eyes, unabashed in her concern. Giving a nod, Daisyflight came alongside the lead warrior.

"Deersong speaks true, we won’t harm any who don’t seek to harm us first." A cautious smile met the older tom, steady against the kit’s cries. That line however, ‘sanctuary’, piques her interest. Harm came in many colours, and welcoming in danger was ill-advised. "We will need to know what you run from." Further confirmation, sterner, of her fawn clanmate’s words.

"Should you be safe enough, Skyclan would be glad to provide some food, rest." Tucking her hind beneath her and saddling her paws with the weight of her tail, Daisyflight waited patiently for the newcomer's response.
​

✿ ✿ ✿​

 

[MORNINGBIRD]

---

---

As the mollies come and they speak, concern dripping from their words....it does not ease him.

"Who? No...no not who, what. Those monsters....my family...we lived beyond the moors." The look in his eyes grew more erratic as he attempts to recall, losing their color as the old tom grew more haunted by the memories. "They came with their horrid jaws and yellow eyes....my kits, my mate....my life....gone. Everything.....in an instant." His voice grew soft as he stared off into the distance, paws pulling the kits even further into his fluff, as if he could shield them from the world. He could still feel the badger's teeth trying to drag him back into his home.

"I was supposed to protect them....they were my world." Burr's voice becomes watery as the grief begins to seep into his bones, as if speaking the truth could pull him down to death's door along with his family. "My daughter, she shoved her kits into my paws and told me and my mate to run. There was no time and then Nora-" He couldn't continue, voice cracking as he finally broke down into sobs.

One thing was true though, if he had come from so far away, there was no fear of anything following anymore.​

---

---

header by lleafeons on DA, fancy via chérie​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

A hulking cloud of pale fur emerges from the treeline behind Daisyflight and Deersong, carried by enormous golden paws. Concern is etched deep into the lines of the Ragdoll's face -- the coppery bite of blood is in the air, secreting from the wound on the old outsider's shoulder, flavoring their forest with danger. Blazestar's jaw tightens as dark blue eyes spot not one, but two tiny kits clinging to the injured tom's pelt. How easy it would be to imagine Howlkit and Burnkit there, or any combination of his children, hungry and shaken.

Daisyflight and Deersong ask the necessary questions, but in his panic, his pain, the older tom stammers and falters. "My daughter, she shoved her kits into my paws and told me and my mate to run." Blazestar's heart clenches. His daughter. These kits are motherless, carried by a grandfather who has lost everything to some nameless monster. "There was no time and then Nora..."

"You've lost so much. SkyClan grieves for you." He gives both Daisyflight and Deersong a long, searching look, before he gives both mollies a nod. They would not turn him away. Blazestar can see how cold the children are, how frightened to have their entire world disrupted. "Your grandchildren will need to eat, and that wound... you need it looked at," he murmurs, voice like feathers floating on a dull breeze. "I'm Blazestar, leader of SkyClan. This is my deputy, Daisyflight," he nods to her, "and one of my lead warriors, Deersong." He flicks his tail. "But we can worry about that later. Can you walk with us? We are not far from camp." He sets round eyes gleaming with pity on the kits. "Daisyflight and Deersong can help you carry your kits. You can lean on me. We have a medicine cat who can look at that wound."

- ,,​

​

 

[~Deersong~]

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒​

---

Her heart clenches in pity for the old tom as he stammers out a tale that both does and doesn't make sense. She still had no idea what could have attacked them, but it was dangerous enough to kill so many and leave so few. Deersong would look to Daisyflight, and then Blazestar as her leader appeared and spoke words that caused Deer to smile in relief.

Of course, they would help, a good Skyclanner never left a cat in need. She would dip her head gently as Blazestar reintroduced them all she would offer the tom a soft smile of reassurance as she stepped forward carefully, ready to carry a kit if the older tom gave her permission to do so.

Her gaze drifted down to the two bundles now, shivering and clearly frightened, she wondered if she and Thistleback would ever be blessed with such precious gifts and her heart twisted again for the mother who would not be able to watch them grow into the cats they were destined to be.

Crouching down so that she would be at eye level with the kittens, Deersong would coo softly, "what it is, brave kittens. Do you have names?" ​

 

[MORNINGBIRD]

---

---

"Thank-Thank you." The shock, the relief, in his voice is too bare to mistake when Blazestar voices his acceptance of all three cats. As the tears take away the panic, the sadness, all he is left with is the shame of falling apart, of putting these poor cats in such an awkward position. It is not a shame he should have at his age, at his emotional maturity, but it stubbornly takes hold of his head and pushes it down like that of a tortoise.

"I-I'm sorry, I never...I never even introduced anyone in my haste." Blazestar and Deersong's comments give him something to shake the shame away with, or at least a way to ignore it. Burr uncurls his tail from the kits, revealing two mollies who are scarcely two moons of age who eye the three cats warily as they scoot closer together. They are practically identical in every way except- "My granddaughters; Mushroom," He motions to the sleek furred kit, "And Cotton." and then to the curly furred kit, stepping back so as to give the warriors room.

"I am called Burr." The name is visibly odd on the old tom's tongue, but he doesn't appear to be lying. "The girls are a little wary to outsiders, it was only the family for such a long while. They'll warm I'm sure, but I can't promise you'll get too much talking."
​

---

---

header by lleafeons on DA, fancy via chérie​

 

[Snowpath]

"I know how to climb, I just got hung one time and I-" Distraction immediate from his protests, the blue dappled tom bit his tongue because his frustration didn't need to be dumped on one of the few cats he enjoyed the company of in the clan and his mentor was goodspirited of all things. She, at least, was sensible, but sometimes a little bit of a bleeding heart. He supposed the clan could use more cats with sensibilities and morals, StarClan knew they had enough without; himself included at times. It was just hard to care when he...didn't. It was hard not to care a little when he followed along his longer limbed teacher and came across the scene and sob story. The old timer seemed in shock and his tale spoke of the cruelty of the some beasts. His golden eyes moved from their leader, his mother and then more properly focusing on the two kits as Deersong introduced them and the older cats got to talking. Snowpaw inched forward, examining the two and the big spherical furball that was their grandfather and he gave a hesitant sniff. Yeah, two-leg stuff. Had to be. He didn't recognize the scent otherwise and two-legs were clearly the issue here because nothing else would give a cat such a fright. At least nothing he encountered.
"Burr? Mushroom? Cotton? Well, can't eat those. Learned my lesson the first time I shoved one in my mouth, so I guess you're safe!" Where was that wretched medicine cat? He had one job, would it kill him to be a little more timely or was he off rolling in catnip and calling it studying. UGH.


​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He's far from enthused, to be here, summoned by none other than the witch herself. The lesser of the two─ but poison tongue and moss-fogged eyes all the same. She was far less subtle, when it came to her intentions. It was one of the few things he could truly respect Daisyflight for, she knew where to draw the line, at the least. Already, she's attempting to lull the kittens into depravity with gibberish that flows out of her so very easily, wolf in sheep clothing, she'd seem all too inviting to any weary soul.

At last, arriving on the scene, he pushes his way between her and her undeniably wretched apprentice. She's made her stake on her already, poor thing touched by the kiss of death, though, under Daisyflight's care, it only would've been a matter of time, anywho. Dawnglare breathes a sigh, lashes fluttering with the partial roll of his eyes. Pale curls frame his face as he fixes the witch with a narrowed look. And then, with a head still tilted towards her, his eyes shift to the odd bunch of strangers. A hulking mass of something, leaf-pile on stilts, with two little things tucked close to him. He tilts his head for a better look, eyes narrowed in a squint. Who's to say they weren't suffocating underneath all of that fur? He can barely see the rise and fall of flanks, they best prey then, that they don't simply drop dead.

And the things this witch is teaching her chosen one─ the devouring of kits. It's something even he wouldn't stoop to (not even if they were roasted and diced along with his favorite wet food) He supposes it shows just how careless she is, how careless the both of them are. Dawnglare huffs a breath. "Well, don't you just look terrible," he coos, though his expression is passive, brows pinched as he addresses the old tom. The gash at his side is ugly as his name was. And Blaise, ever so grateful, is quick to offer shelter. His head tips to the side, as if his neck has simply tired of working, and his gaze trails to the dreaded pines that surrounded them. So much less pleasant than the oaks that dotted fourtrees. What a dreary place. "You... you'll be fine soon enough." He turns on pink-studded paws. "A little further and I will see. ...to, you," he adds with a swipe of tongue, nearly forgetting the last of what he wanted to say.

He glances to the little cannibal, and nearly considers warning Blaise not to let him devour the kits. Though, in the end, if he did change his mind, it would only be less work in the long run. It's fine.​