across the river styx ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ talking to birds

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ 　Swansong grasps a mouthful of savenged feathers in her maw, carefully held so as not to ruffle them. It is a delicate task she performs, moving with a languid kind of certainty. Dozens of eyes peer down at her from the sparse treetops, branches lined with curious winged things. She spots, in her deferent glances skyward, stark black amidst the feathers, and her certainty is strengthened. The gift is placed upon the ground at the base of a particularly towering sycamore. Her voice is a mumbling rasp. "An offering of warmth... Down and fuzz, very soft. Returned, yes... I give back... give back what I was given..." She peers sheepishly up, not quite meeting any single one of the birds' eyes. It feels more polite this way.

A breath, steady and slow. "There are others... This kindness, do not grant it to me. You... knew the prophet, yes...? Whose throat bore the marking of stars...?" He spoke to birds, they whispered secrets in his ears. They liked him - perhaps because he listened. She still cannot hear their voices, but perhaps they will hear hers. "Please, guide him..." The words trail away. Magpiepaw is not the only lost. "No, ah... All of them. Fly them home safe... Let them find peace, wherever they now rest..." She dips her head, backs away from her offering. Too many have been lost recently, vanished into the horizon or claimed by the stars. In her own cursed powerlessness, she seeks blessings for those gone wherever she can.

‎‎┌── WE FOUND TWO DEAD SWANS ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ AND FILLED THEIR BODIES WITH FLOWERS ──┐‎

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• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

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  SWANSONG　⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆　she / they, warrior of shadowclan, fourteen moons.
  ➳ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
  ➳ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ➳ halfshade x smogmaw, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] He couldn't speak bird, not like Magpiepaw had apparently been able to, yet seeing Swansong attempt speaking to them-her words soft and gentle while offering up feathers to the birds who watched, perhaps with caution? Silently he approached the pale molly, careful not to startle the birds before them while listening to the words of the warrior, his gaze softening a bit looking at them, perhaps he too should have brought gifts for the feathered creatures, but would they have even accepted such things presented to them.

"Thats very kind of you Swansong..." he said gently, trying hard not to break the silence too much while focusing on the creatures before them. Now he felt kind of bad for his first-kill being a bird, but... it did not go to waste that was for sure. Falling to silence once more he kept close to the other's side. Feeling a slight sadness that seemed to seep into the air. Those they lost... so many recently, some being apprentices so close to earning their names... it was a shame, each of them should be here now with them as warriors but, perhaps... their time within the living had to come to an end, even then...there was another question that came to Snowpaw's mind, could Swansong also speak to birds? Or had it just been the long lost Medicine Cat apprentice, forever lost.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── You ve wasted your life , but thanks for applying ──┐‎

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  "speak""Thoughts"
  
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  Snowpaw ❄ He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 9 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[MARBLEPAW]

Swansong is one of her stranger Clanmates, willowy and pale as a phantom, her fur wispy like the frayed edges of fragile clouds. Marblekit watches with muted interest as Swansong places a mouthful of dark feathers against the base of a sycamore edging camp. The branches of the tree rattle, shake, heavy with birds; their glossy black feathers rustle as they preen, as they craw into the cool newleaf air. Her ears flick, straining to catch Swansong's whispered prayer: "Fly them home safe. Let them find peace, wherever they now rest..."

Magpiepaw. His disappearance had left a ragged tear in ShadowClan. Starlingheart's mourning is apparent in her every movement, even still. The black-and-white medicine cat had trained the young tom from kithood to be her successor, and his loss is palpable, violent-red. Marblekit had known the medicine cat apprentice from her visits to her aunt's den—he'd been patient with her, allowing her paws to press into herbs better rolled by skilled cats.

She pads closer, nearing Snowpaw. The white-furred tom remarks that Swansong's prayer is kind. Tears prick the corners of her eyes as she thinks about Siltcloud—would the birds carry that message, too? "Do the birds talk to the dead? Can they... can they tell my mother I miss her, too?" Or are they, as she is beginning to suspect, a vehicle for Magpiepaw only, star-blessed?

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Marblekit, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 5 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
  — shadowclan kit, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
  — currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.
  
  

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[springflame]

( ) "poetic," the comment comes from a passing charcoal tomcat, who pauses in his movement to observe the pale feline's actions. she is delicate with the feathers, crystalline eyes far away and thoughtful as she performs for the sky. it's oddly sweet, even as it's strange, and her words strike a chord with springflame as he observes. the flowery mention of somecat he thinks is magpiepaw causes him pause, as he recalls the ebony and white medic's apprentice. a horrific loss for all involved, most of all his mentor. the loss of a prophet, a healer, strikes deep into the heart of a clan.

as swansong finishes her speech, snowpaw and marblekit approach, the former with a soft complement, the latter with a tearful question. springflame approaches on soft paws, sidling up with a respectful dip of his head. "that was kind of you," he murmurs, gaze fixed on the offering left by the she-cat. the tan and white kitten's question digs deep into his consciousness. birds are the closest things to the sky he can think of- if there were any creatures able to speak to starclan, it'd be them.

I COULD BE YOUR BEST YET 🍂 FUTURE FAVORITE REGRET

• // "#8E3F1B"
  
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• SPRINGFLAME HE / THEY, WARRIOR OF SHADOWCLAN. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a scrawny charcoal and white tabby with amber eyes thin and wiry, this boy is made of underdeveloped muscle and anxious energy. his pelt a mess of charcoal and ivory, with eyes a sunny amber.
  

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

this... should bring them some comfort they think but they can't even begin to want to look in the directions of birds since magpiepaw died. some might have some wishful thinking that maybe he survived behing hit by that monster and is with a twoleg now but they know better. he's dead and he's not coming back. he's gone, and he's not living some happy life in a twoleg's nest, getting plump and fat with other cats. to chilledstar, that wouldn't be a life anyways but they know it's not magpiepaw's. he's dead. no more cryptic messages. no more watching him be fascinated with the very birds he was named after. none of that. and now swansong, also bird named, speaks to the birds. it makes them want to rip their heart out. they do not wish for the same fate of magpiepaw to fall upon anyone here.

"little swan..."

they speak up, wanting to address her for a moment but they decide against it. there is nothing for them to say to them. they can't. they only close their eye, pinning their ears back as they try and ignore the sound of the birds. they don't wish to hear them anymore.

"i'm... sure if you ask them they will... be glad to, pebble. i... I'm gonna go hunt..."

they don't think they can face this right now. and thus their cold exterior returns and they walk away and out of camp.

———————---***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 blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
  — 46 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
  — they / them pronouns
  — aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking
  — child of JAGGED and RAVEN
  — 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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[FERNDANCE]

A different grief had consumed the warrior this past half-moon, not for the medicine cat apprentice, but for her own daughter. She hadn't had time to consider Magpiepaw's death, but the Ferndance of the future would appreciate the distraction. It was a weight that made her pawsteps slow as she approached, her pupils near-blown out as she eyed the bundle of feathers left as an offering. "You can speak to prey too...." the cinnamon tabby breathed in amazement, she thought she had been the only one left capable of such marvelous feats. The feather in her tail shifted as he swished the whiplike appendage, a smile upon her muzzle. She tilted her head up towards the sky, forcing an uncharacteristic raspiness to her voice. "Caw, caw-caw?! Cawcaw!" Silence. Ferndance rolled her shoulders, turning to her clanmates. She blinked fervently at Chilledstar's departure and the somber vibes of acquaintances that had remained. Her ears half-flattened against a wedge-shaped skull as she brushed a stray leaf from her fur. "The birds will understand me," she promised quietly.
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