camp and if i can return the favor ㄨ disaster

[lichenstar]

✦　˚ 　✧ ˚　.˚　✦ 　✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• The lazy ascent of the moon suggests that naught anything is amiss... it is so passionately tired of its climb towards the peak of the heavens, unbothered and unhurried. A total departure from the chaotic crumbling of sudden loss that would be inflicted upon tired eyes seeking careless slumber. By the time they've made it to their camp, they would've expected the shaking to stop... that it could be summarized in terrified adrenaline dumped in a deluge stronger than the gentle shower had been. She can still feel raindrops... clinging fervently to her pelt like they too hang upon a cliff's edge, dangling at the mercy of shifting tufts of scruffy fur to fall to their own unceremonious, sudden death.
  
  The reeds jut out in greedy grabs for knotted sections of her coat, their touch enough to make her flinch- with each ginger graze she can feel the imitation of the softest brush of his shadow and it burns like she is seared by molten embers, like she were the one fleeing a flame engulfed camp across open moors. The grating vibrations of her voice come out like gravel kicked astray under foot, harsh and disjointed- Who was she meant to call for.. in this situation...?
  
  His name hangs on her lips, baited by habit to be said-
  
  It struggles in a choked cough, as if rejected by her body in retaliation for its transgression for denying reality. Smokestar isn't here... he can't be summoned to fix his own loss. If he were half so easily manifested, she could fall upon the floor and thank StarClan in relieved sobs. But the rain had stopped awhile ago... and the heaviness of its droplets are not what weighs the planes of her face-
  
  Eyes that feel impossibly wide search the camp wildly for a purpose, a direction to go in... confidence disappears in the face of adversity, without the pillar of support that she leaned against like a crutch unknowingly.
  
  "Please..."
  
  A pitiful, keening whine that is meant for no one and everyone all at once. For anyone who could stop this... anyone who could undo it, a wail alike a kit demanding the unreasonable, the impossible. No one could steal back the grains of sand that had fallen into the bottom of the hourglass... a paw reaching desperately through the small, fickle opening and being still too short to reach.... Drowning in what time still remained in its persistent pace.
  
  "I need.... someone..." the name of who was left to help this eluded her even still... "Anyone... who's able... Smokestar-" An already burning windpipe squeezes painful around the syllables of his name, draws an agonized wheeze, "The gorge..."
• about
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• ˚　　★⋆. ࿐࿔　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 .
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦　　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　​

​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) when she collapses into despair, smokestar is always at her side. during ashpaw's kidnapping, he'd pressed against her and taken charge, alleviating the combined deputy duties of riverclan's first two lead warriors. when spiderfall's villainy had been revealed, he had stood shoulder to shoulder with her as they chased the murderer from their clan. when clearsight had been murdered, smoke had aided in the burial, when frostkit had been born still, he'd talked her through her grief. when buckgait had been stolen from her life, smoke had done what he could, despite his distaste for the earthen woman. willowroot and smokethroat had been riverclan's first lead warriors, cicadastar's psuedo deputies until the time one had been officially appointed. they'd trained their apprentices together, one good cop, one bad cop. they'd aided in raising each other's children. willowroot has seen buckgait as her best friend, but more of a sister. in the moons since her disappearance, willowroot has recognized smokestar as her true best friend.

he is a brother in all but blood- they get each other in a way few others do. both former loners, riverclan's original guards. in cicadastar's death, she had been his pillar, had finally gotten to pay him back for everything he had done for her in her grief. when lichentail stumbles into camp, willowroot's heart sinks. she knows, she feels his loss before she quite understands the words uttered. she feels the last part of her heart shatter within her chest, sharp pieces falling away into the cavity of her body. slender paws push her weight forward, urgency in her tone even as every aching muscle within her sings with pain. "what happened?" she growls, and her ears flatten in some attempt to defend herself against the truth she knows. here is a devastating moment, one she knows will beckon despair, but for the first time, smokestar is not here to back her up. he can't fix things, because he's the one who has broken.

"lichentail, what happened, why...?" her voice breaks with desperation, disbelief shining in unshed tears. long legs pace to the camp's exit, tensing in the desire to dash towards the gorge. "we have to find him, we have to save him!" it's odd, the moment he isn't here to take over for her, she finds herself able to think clearly in this desperate moment. lichentail looks broken, lost, once strong deputy unable to cope without the leader who appointed her. willowroot's heart is breaking again and again. she searches camp for his loved ones, finds the eyes of every single cat, because everyone had loved him. had he been able to be saved, lichentail wouldn't have come back without him. this she knows without a doubt. rain pours down without mercy, clouds choking out the stars. it's a fitting end to the river king. tears blend with the rain as she stands, shifting her paws, just inside of camp.

THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // "#91A26C"
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• 
  WILLOWROOT ☼ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING ROBINPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smokey long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, with friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape. her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[GILLSIGHT]

✧ . Raindrops coat his pelt, but it’s not their fading presence that beckons him toward the warrior den for the night, rather the moon above. It holds a serenity in its presence as it caps off a rather stagnant day for Gillsight — one of routine patrols and duties around the camp in uncertain times. He’d prefer for life to be that way, he thinks. Stagnant and calm. Peaceful. RiverClan deserves such.

With what happens next, Gillsight can’t help but wonder if this is what life is and what it will always be. This — his eyes catch onto before he can return to his nest, before he can call the day a success. A moment of calm needn’t be cradled for so long that one finds peace and comfort within it, for a hold breaks without warning - sharp and sudden, a descent swift enough to knock the air out of one’s lungs.

Such is the sight of Lichentail. The deputy’s return is enough to still his paws, a shaken look that Gillsight knows all too well painted across her face. His lungs tighten as his head lifts, as he braces for already crumbling ground beneath his paws the break with the deputy’s word.

Smokestar, he opens his mouth to speak, to call out to the leader for help, but faltering-tongue catches and Lichentail speaks.

And it’s ice that breaks beneath his paws, it’s the river bubbling up to envelope his form, boomsticks rattling the air above his head. For it’s him that they can’t call to aid, to hear the news — for it’s him that Lichentail begs for help for.

Smokestar. The gorge.

Disbelief swallows him as it does Willowroot, sunlit eyes wide, his mind searching for Clearsight’s voice. Deep breaths. He doesn’t know if he can.

“ W-Wh — “ Black and white paws move toward the entrance, toward Lichentail. What happened, he doesn’t need to echo, doesn’t need to waste already breaking words on as Willowroot speaks.

Smokestar is… He can’t be. The last pieces of a semblance of family forged out of the river’s shelter. The last pieces of happier days, of youth unbroken. Clearsight and Clayfur, and now — He can’t. But Gillsight knows that look. Gillsight knows the twist in his chest, the frantic darting of eyes.

The lead warrior speaks of saving him, of finding him, and Gillsight can only find the means to nod as sunlit eyes glaze over with unshed tears threatening to fall.

“ Wh-Where — ” A deep breath, finally — trembling just as the rest of him, of RiverClan. Peace will not come to them tonight. Or when he seeks black and white fur out to share the news of his day’s worth of catches, or finds another rock similar in his appearance, or… Deep breath. “ Wh-Where do you… n-need us? “ ​

✦ ABOUT

• 
  GILLSIGHT ✦ AMAB. He / Him. Warrior of RiverClan.
  ✧ . A scarred, black and white tom with yellow eyes.
  ✧ . NPC x Urchin
  ✧ . Mentored by Clearsight
  ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
  ✧ . Penned by Abri ‣ @_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
  ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
  

​

 

[Petalnose]

After tensions, the rain was more welcome. Burning eyes lifted to the sky as it bathed her in gentle streams. Peace. It was always something of reminder. It was something of grounding. No matter what happened, it would rain. There was no stopping the rain. Petalnose accepted that like swipe of a tongue over her fur, looking towards the smoke that waved warnings in the far distance.. But soon the rain ceased, and what she expected to see was the Sun to shine once more. Although, little did she know it never really stopped raining. Heads were turning to a lone cloud that made its own rain down watery blue eyes. It wasn't peaceful.

Lichentail.

Reedy limbs rose in a hurry, rushing over to hear what just had gone wrong. Although, it was already prevalent. Smokestar left with her and didn't come back.. then the blue point choked out the words. The gorge… Her eyes burned of more Fury than it had once possessed. He fell. Who was there to blame? The patched feline wanted to know but didn't hear any answers from Lichentail, neither did she see it was fit to ask. That probably meant there was no one to blame.

Was he really gone? Dead?

Petalnose's claws sunk into the ground but she was too upset to speak. Something of grief and rage.. she didn't really know which one was taking over.

Why.. was Riverclan's leaders taken so cruelly? So quickly? Did Starclan hate them?

Her unmatched gaze stared in the distance, frozen. Her last emotion towards the smoke pelted feline was anger.. How cruel the world was. Guilt balled up in the tight pack of her emotions and now she felt like she was slipping.. falling. She had to do something.

"We'll go look for him." She assured Lichentail, "I need warriors of careful paws for assistance immediately. We're going to the Gorge." Petalnose called, her voice singed of fury and grief but strung of her same confidence. There was no time to ask questions. Questions were asked later.

We will find him.

Tags​

 

[claythorn]

The eve had been normal- a wind down of cats in their nests, quiet murmurs and ushering of kits back inside the nursery. She had been watching over it all, a quiet sentinel. The vigil in her hadn't quite left- then, it had been quiet, if for nothing else but Otterbite's loud stare, but here? It was near peaceful. And knowing the clans, peace couldn't last as long as they could say that word. Lichentail swept into camp, distraught, heavy with news that no one cat should bear alone.

Claythorn felt like, once again, she was standing on a world outside of those affected by the grief that swept through camp as Lichentail spoke. Others crowed at her for information, more then what she had given. Was Claythorn unaffected? The King of Riverclan. She did not 'grow up' in this camp, no, that had been restricted for the wilds elsewhere. She had no particular interaction with him, besides him taking her side on the border when it came to a certain cat and being too proud in attempting to speak to Windclan's leader.

Ear twitched in thought- golden eyes lifted up and snapped towards the rest of camp. She searched for other familiar black-and-white pelts, his young, the ones that may be afflicted the most. A grimace spreads on her face now, the more cats that became vocal, the more she understood. For it was not her grief to feel, but she could not be aloof or distant in this matter. She may not feel the grief, but she didn't have to seperate herself.

Water soaked her pelt as she pushed to her paws, winding through the gathering crowd. She was not kin of the lost. She was hardly close to the cat she intended to press against and support. Why was she doing this? Was this some kind of loyalty to those in camp- wait, a loyalty to Riverclan? It tasted like ash in her mouth as Claythorn considered she'd be one of the last to possibly be named by the King. Her flank was pressing against Lichentail's, hoping to support her- stand her up.

Claythorn would understand if Lichentail snapped or pulled away. She couldn't take offense tonight, not in the lens of the goings-on. Her words weren't soft, but a promise of strength: "Take your time. I will be likely heading out with the patrol." Mismatched golden eyes flashed at Lichentail. It was akin to switching roles from but a moon ago, where Claythorn had been Claypaw, heaving breaths over the pebble-shore of the water she had fell in, and Lichentail's awkward paw on her shoulder.

She had never wanted to switch roles.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ no current love interest / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Moonbeam]

Dressings had been switched out, herbs to treat pains and help with cough passed out to those that needed it before sleep would find those within the medicine den. Claws of sleep were about to drag Moonpaw in when she heard commotion in the camp, heard the breathy voice of Lichentail but she was unable to understand what was said. When more voices joined in, rushed and worried, is when Moonpaw moved up from nest and quickly looked behind her to let those within her care know to stay there before she exit through parted moss and reeds.

She hadn't expected to step into chaos. Into rushed cats gathering together to form patrols to find him. Him, him, him, none but Lichentail had said the name of who they were looking to find and that had been while Moonpaw had been in her own den. She moved, ready to quietly get Smokestar before it dawned on her - he wasn't in camp. He wasn't here and patrols were gathering to go to the gorge. Eyes flicked to Lichentail to search for any sign that she was wrong, that it wasn't Smokestar and when no sign came words tumbled from her maw. "I'm going too."

There would be no room for argument, no room for clanmates to tell her that she couldn't come, and quickly Moonpaw would move back to her den to gather materials, to gather anything she could easily carry to help Smokestar if his lives had helped him to survived the fall, to help anyone who could get injured from their trip to the gorge. As she did so she'd look to @Troutsnout , almost fully healed and ready to leave the den. "Make sure they don't leave their nests, or if they must it's for important stuff. I'll be back." They needed rest, not to wander out into camp to see what was going on.

A STRAWBERRY AVALANCHE ꕥ CRASHED OVER ME

• -- is putting troutsnout in charge of the classroom while she's away ~
• 
  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ACHES & PAINS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ KITTING
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
• 
  ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ speaks softly & often found humming
  ꕥ 12 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently being mentored by none
  ꕥ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
  ꕥ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[bubbleburst]

"GOT A LITTLE CASH NOW SO THAT SKIRT IS DIOR"​

Smokestar. The murmurs reach Bubblepaw in a manner that renders her nearly unable to move. Shock ripples through the apprentice. Is this really the same all-powerful leader that had survived an attack from a WindClan patrol that had intended to kill him? He had not even had his lives then. Bubblepaw had thought surely StarClan smiles favorably upon RiverClan and Smokestar. Perhaps Lichentail is mistaken?

When the silver tabby finds herself immersed in the chaos at the news, it takes her a moment to finally move again. And her gaze finds Lichentail. The frantic, horrified expression on the point's face confirms what Bubblepaw had hoped was just skewed through the rumor mill. Briefly, her mind wanders to Smokestar's children now tragically orphaned, to his former apprentices and those who are closest to him. Bubblepaw had once thought leaders were granted some sort of cosmic power meant to help them prevail through all challenges and changes.

She isn't so sure, these days.

"I want to come, too," Bubblepaw expresses with an expression that borders on begging of Moonpaw and the warriors that rally themselves into patrols "Please. I want to help." The silver tabby wills tears not to prick at her eyes. She does not want to see the dispatched body of her leader, but her clanmates should not have to face such tragedy without her willingness to help.​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[turtlepaw]

come along with me​

---

A pair of bright green eyes stare from the apprentice den, almost like two glittering beetles in the night. Pale pelts rushed in front of her in the moonlight. All puffed with anxiety and worry. Lichentail's especially stood out to her. She was shaking. Her stalwart confident deputy was shaking in the moonbeams. Confusion and wonder compelled Turtlepaw's own pelt to start shaking. She slowly made her way from the den with eyes flicking from every cat swarming the deputy. @Snakeblink wasn't among them, yet. Knowing her mentor, he would be here soon and she didn't realize how much she craved his cool confidence until her chest started aching for it.

The apprentice pressed her dark belly to the ground as she moved through camp. Her home felt new and weird in the moonlight. No longer did the beams feel soft and calm. They felt cold and glaring. The fear in her friends and family's eyes seemed to catch the light, making it impossible to hide. Turtlepaw knew she had no place here. She felt so small among the uncertainties the warriors carried. She was just a child here.

An uncontrolled, low whine escaped her. "Lichentail?" She knew her voice was lost among the organizing of a rescue patrol and other questions, but she couldn't help herself. She had to make sure what everyone was saying was true. Turtlepaw had not experienced death in this capacity before. Her friends were alive. Her life was relatively peaceful. Now, though, she could feel the walls of her childhood beginning to crumble beneath the death of her untouchable leader.

Turtlepaw started to choke out a plea to the deputy to let her go with them. To let her see, but bit her tongue as Petalnose specified warriors. Grief, a new emotion for the young cat, welled in her chest and throat. Another whine left her as she searched the crowd again for Snakeblink, a friend, or anyone that would let her bury her nose in their fur. She needed to smell something other than the fear scent that plagued the camp now.

---

‎‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎

• 
  
  - looking for Snakeblink! poor thing has no clue what's going on
  speech color
  
• TURTLEPAW ✩ she/her/hers, apprentice of riverclan, 6 moons (ages every 1st)
  ⭃ stocky silver charcoal tabby. tail is a stub. energetic, naive, dim
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / roughhousing and wrestling encouraged / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by muddly ↛ @/muddly on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[salmonshade]

She hasn't yet turned to bed yet, instead grooming out the knots in her pelt as the moon climbs higher and higher. When Lichentail returns, the camp practically erupts in to life she had not seen this late before. Salmonshade is stunned in to silence as the air becomes tearful, suspenseful, she hears sobs coming from some cat. What...?

But Lichentail is standing there, shaking like a leaf in the wind, wheezing, she looks terrified. Cats ask why, but she rises on her paws and without regarding the questions of who, of what happened, of why, she starts towards Lichentail, honed in.

"Lichentail," Salmon breathes, eyes wide, heart breaking- "I've got you. We've got you. Sit," She quickly moves to support Lichentail's other side, along with Claythorn, trying to press against the blue coated molly in support, in what she hopes is comfort. In this moment, she forces herself to get over her aversion to touch. "Breathe, you're okay..." it's not okay, Lichentail isn't okay, she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth. It's not okay. Smokestar is probably laying dead in the gorge, and soon enough...

... Lichenstar- No, she's getting too hasty, shes thinking of the worst possible scenario. How many lives did Smokestar have...? Surely he lived. A tom like him could not just up and disappear from Riverclan. Petalnose's voice is full of emotion as she calls for a patrol to go to the gorge. She grinds her teeth, briefly thinking to call for Hazecloud- somewhere, she hear Moonpaw's voice saying shes leaving. What about Lichentail? Her mind screams selfishly.

Stars, what is she to do? What is Riverclan to do? If Smokestar doesn't return... She feels bile rise in her throat and she swallows, hard, squeezing her eyes shut. How does Riverpaw feel? She searches for her apprentice, desperate to find him in the frantic crowd. She tries not to process the information. She tries to spare herself the panic and tells herself [everything is okay, Smokestar will be back come morning, and he will sit on the meeting place and inform everyone he was okay. It's just a scare, right?

𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ଳ⋆｡˚ 𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚁

• 
  ❥ salmon ,, salmonshade
  ❥ cis female ,, she/her ,, 38 months
  ❥ warrior of riverclan ,, mentoring riverpaw
  ❥ fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with white, blue eyes
  ❥ "speech, fd9367" ,, thoughts
  ❥ lesbian ,, single
  ❥ smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
  ❥ chibi by pin ,, penned by chuff

​

 

[shellpaw]

consciousness is nothing but a fever haze ; half awake and half dead all the same, a stain of frostbleached bones over a sick - scented moss nesting when camp erupts. an ear swivels, velveteen alabaster ruffling at her lilac - striped helm, amber eyes rolling back at the sudden sway of her curious skull when the familiar scratch of a voice breaks tremulous through the murmurings. moonpaw alerts ; she watches her blur - eyed, bleary when she sniffs and swallows against the fresh film of honey in her throat, alabaster fur haloing when she moves to exit the maw of her den. it is not the look that keeps her firmly in place, though it would have been if she had a choice ; her body is weak. sunken, brittle. her limbs reed thin, a flat curl of pelt against ragged moss. she couldn't lift if she tried. so shellkit simply blinks slow to the medicine cat as she leaves ; gratitude, however punishment instilled as it may have been. she would stay, hopes the intent of obedience counts if not for the floundering of her sinking flank.

but the commotion only increases. rushes, frantic ; she picks up on it even now, above the pinwhistle of her breath bubbling a lump in her throat again. she sniffs best she can and in the quiet where blood rushes in her ears, she picks it out. smokestar. the gorge. she's never seen the gorge, but stories stretch the rocky ravine tall and high in her imagination. juts of slate silver rock leading down to a blistering rush of rapids, damp with river - rivuleted moss. tall and high and dangerous and she should never get too close to the edge, it was slippery. shellkit knows this. a stone settles in her chest she doens't know what to do with, rheumy gaze squinting to find troutsnout amidst the sullen, sedge - covered darkness, ” troutsnout.. “ trembling whisper call start, a pull of concerned brows to a kittish furrow that pictures her both young and aged at the same time ; she knows that sound, the distress in muddled, anxious voices.

she gazes wraithlike at them, shadows painting her face too gaunt where she gasps for desperate, speaking breath -- because the adult would know. the adult would tell her, and mend the horrible dread weaving taut through her ribs, ” smokestar..? “ what was happening? what had happened to her uncle, her eldest blood kin? he had nine lives -- he had to be okay. right?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
• 
• 
  
  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. SIX MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS -------------------------------------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush in a way seemingly similar to hazecloud's. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  currently HIGHLY INFECTIOUS WITH WHITECOUGH. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

​

 

[Gladefrost]

She had been in the medicine den for four days, maybe five? Trout had lost count because it seemed too long and her paws ached to work and go back to her routine, and she notes an disturbance outside. She didn't get from her nest mostly to prevent Moonpaw from having to nag at her for getting up and investigating as it was doctor's order. An chambray gaze closes as she focuses intently on the commotion outside as she makes bits and pieces ranging from Smokestar, the gorge, patrol and more. Her eyebrows furrow due the helplessness she felt that she couldn't help assist her clan or help Lichentail find Smokestar.

Troutsnout notices Moonpaw turning in her direction and polar opposite gazes meet as she's given instruction to not let either Valepaw, Sandpaw or Shellkit leave the medicine den unless absolutely necessary. "Mm... I'll watch them, Moonpaw." She would respond as her long plumed tail wraps around her flank as she glances at the others in the den before glancing back. "Be safe." The spotted female would murmur towards the small ivory feline as she went to join the gathering commotion of other warriors who all quickly volunteered to join the patrol, inquire what happened or to comfort Lichentail.

Her claws flex in the moss impatiently as she sits guard near the entrance of the medicine den, watching outside as the distressing scene before a sigh parts her lips. "Okay... let's all relax and... wait to see what happens when they're back." She would state until a whimpering cry of Shellkit catches her attention and her heart grips in pain at the child's worry for her uncle. A claw taps on the ground as she watches outside once more for a moment before standing and moving closer to Shellkit, attempting to touch her dark nose to the kit's head and offer a soft smile. "Yeah? I'm... here... Do you want to rest on my tail?"

Her inquiry is soft as a gentle chambray gaze focuses on the small bundle before her as she slumps next to the lilac and white color kitten, a long plumed tail swishing faintly as it lays near the child to comfort herself similar to a makeshift pillow. She grinds her teeth as she closed her eyes, mentally saying a prayer to Starclan for Smokestar to return to the safety of Riverclan, his home, their home. Why couldn't life give any of the clans a break? It was a nonstop agony of taking and taking, the only time it gave was when they receive new life but that had no conscious of even taking a life as young as that.
​

​

 

[FOXTAIL]

Foxtail was curled up in his nest, when his ears prick at the sound of wailing outside the warrior's den. His eyes blink open as he's pulled out of his slumber, and for a moment there is confusion that darkness still cloaks the sky. He sits up onto his paws, and in his tired state, he notices he isn't the only one awake at this late hour. Numerous nests around him are empty, clanmates are leaping out of their nests— and he can hear the panic, and concern, in numerous voices. What's going on? He wonders as he follows his clanmates out of the den, and his olive green eyes land on no other than Lichentail.

He suddenly feels himself wake up as the deputy's gasping voice reaches his ears, his ears flattening to his cranium. The last time he had seen her in such a frenzy was moons back... when her patrol was attacked by red water rogues. But the panic in her eyes is far greater, and her voice sounds desperate, and the young warrior feels dread running down his spine. "I... need someone... Smokestar- the gorge..." ....What is she talking about? Did... Did something happen to Smokestar? His stomach twists at the thought; the gorge that runs along their border with WindClan is dangerous. If a cat is to fall in it, a RiverClanner's swimming expertise is not going to be any advantage. StarClan forbid— did Smokestar fall into the gorge?

Well, Smokestar must have multiple lives left, right? We'll bring him back safely to camp, he briefly tells himself— this is going to be a rescue patrol. Not a recovery patrol. Foxtail steps forward, and he tries his best to remain calm in the dead of night. "I.... I-I can help find him," He volunteers with a quiver in his voice, and he looks over to the lead warriors that have taken charge. For a brief second, he thinks of his apprentice. Oh, Pebblepaw. Smokestar is his kin, StarClan forbid they find Smokestar dead... he doesn't want Pebblepaw to see his uncle like that for the last time. "Pebblepaw will s-stay behind and guard camp," He mews, fearing what they might find once they venture out to the gorge. "But I-I can help... We'll find him."

Oh StarClan, please may he be alive.​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

• instructing @PEBBLEPAW to stay behind & guard camp
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: tbd
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to sixbane for the minis & tropics for the icon <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  18 moons
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[minnowpaw!]

Oversized ears fold back against Minnowpaw's skull as Lichentail stumbles into camp. She's wide-eyed, breathing heavily, and the pale she-cat rises to her paws. The gorge? Smokestar? Her mind connects the dots before her thoughts can catch up, and she's left blinking at the thought that their leader has fallen in. Immediately, well-groomed fur stands on end. Warriors, they need warriors to go, and she's only halfway through her training. In any other situation, she'd pout.

"- I'll help guard camp!" She offers to ears listening elsewhere, sending Pebblepaw an eager glance. In the meantime she stands by her mother, feathery tail flicking over Willowroot's flank in a vague attempt at comforting the older warrior. Hopefully they would be able to get him out before something bad happened; with Moonpaw going, they'd be able to ensure he only lost one or two lives ... right?
​

 

[Cricketchirp]

⋆ ｡° ✩ The crickets are singing again. The soft drumbeat of rain that held steady through the night has dwindled, left only a chirping chorus in its wake. The night is still, peaceful. The moon hangs heavy overhard, and the stars are dim.

A mourning song has begun. There is no wailing yet, but the elegy comes in the voice of a thousand insects, just as the night that --

The night --

Cricketpaw is composed as she faces the crumbling deputy. Smokestar. The gorge. Something raw and wounded bleeds from Lichentail's voice and into Willowroot's, panic taking hold even before they are certain --

The apprentice's eyes are steely. Their veins thrum with energy, the mourning chorus of their kind bleeds past the plush of their pelt, seeps into their blood. The stars watch with a thousand eyes and Cricketpaw is silent. He does not cry. He does not panic. He does not come apart and bury his face in the comfort of another. Her paws are rooted to the ground, head held high. She breaths, harsh and ragged, as her mouth tick-tick-ticks into something dangerously close to a frown. She is as still as the air, held tense and taut as before a crack of lightning.

Cricketpaw can feel it, in their chest. The hollow. The screaming voice of the stars. The whisper of an elegy catching in their ears. It is a terrible thing, all consuming. There is a wailing wordless scream trapped behind their teeth.

Lichentail She is the one to bring the news. She left him, she left him she left him and -- what kind of deputy would abandon their leader? She should give her life for his as is the duty of all who serve the star-blessed. Coward. Traitor, wails the small and wounded thing that grasps for life within his chest. His lip finally curls.

But --

He will not be distracted. Petalnose takes charge; he would expect nothing less from his mentor. A shaky breath leaves their maw as they approach on awkward, jerky limbs. "Lead the way and I will follow." It is robotic, droning. Steady. Like a little toy soldier repeating all that it knows. Her tail brushes softly against the flank of Bubblepaw as she passes; a small gesture of comfort. She does not look to her friend's face; somehow, seeing the unshed tears in her eyes would feel all the more damning.

Her voice is steady. "We will find him," comes the sound of what feels far to close to prayer. Cricketpaw's eyes are glassy.

(They can't both leave him. What will he be without the stars to guide him?)

‎‎┌── LOOKING UP TO THE SKY ⋆｡°✩ FOR SOMETHING I MAY NEVER FIND ──┐‎

• 
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  CRICKETPAW ✩ he / she / they, apprentice of riverclan, ten moons.
  ⭃ a wiry, curly-furred black smoke with clouded blue eyes.
  ⭃ intelligent, egotistical, and strange, with an eye always turned to the stars.
  ⭃ smokestar xx cicadastar, littermate to beepaw & cicadapaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[robinheart]

Its like the hands of time are in reverse, winding backwards and backwards until that fateful day Robinheart pressed supportively against an injured Lichentail’s side. The fear in her eyes and voice as she called for help. The way crimson dappled the snow beneath them. There’s no snow now. No crimson droplets staining RiverClan soil. Only that same fear - palpable with uncertainty.

Robinheart creeps from the shelter of the nursery. She watches, listens, to the scene before her. Smokestar… the gorge… how? How?! Why?

She doesn’t realize it’s not just rain wetting her cheeks until her vision blurs, each body becoming a colored shape. Colored shapes who rush to Lichentail’s side, who gives orders to apprentices and the medicine den bound, who rush to the entrance in preparation to find their River King. Her heart longs to help too, but she cannot. She feels helpless in the efforts to recover their leader. She feels helpless just as she had when Cicadastar had fallen.

Why has StarClan allowed this to happen? Was it the mercy of RiverClan’s leaders that upset the ancestors? Cicadastar took her back after her disobedience and not long after rogues attacked and took him from them. Smokestar sheltered WindClan in the copse and now he’s disappeared into the rocks and mists of the gorge.

She feels sick with grief. Yet Robinheart clings to a shred of hope that Smokestar will be found - that he has lives enough to survive a disastrous fall and rise like a phoenix from the ashes. She has to have hope. StarClan please, return him to us. RiverClan needs Smokestar more than you right now.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[BRONZESHINE]

♡​♡ why you so obsessed with me ♡♡​

---

bronzeshine & 27 moons & female & she/her & riverclan warrior​

---

"Smokestar- the gorge..." Lichentail said, barely. Bronzeshine stilled in her grooming, back to the deputy. Slowly, pieces connected. The tone of her voice, the shake, the weakness. Smokestar must be dead. There's no other explanation. But... Bronzeshine doesn't feel it. She turned in a broken motion, robotic almost. Various chatter and commotion swirled its way through camp, waking others and fueling it's own fire. "I'll watch camp," she chimed in, though her voice was curt and snipped. Different from the languid speech she usually had. She was conflicted, she didn't like Smokestar as a leader. She didn't think he was a bad leader, she just wasn't fond of the whole structure of it all. And she wasn't all too fond of Lichentail. Ugh, complex feelings and conflict was definitely not her forte.

— boy i wanna know ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  
  
• 
  — sassy | flirty | proud | vain | irascible
  cis/het
  ages on the 15th
  
  — physically moderate && mentally moderate
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
  — please tag account if attacking

 

[hazecloud]

Blessed are those that may see the starlight's shine dance with the moonlight. Blessed are those that do not fear taking it for granted, that the monument to living for the next day is simply that- just another day.

Ever since the return from the Gathering, Hazecloud's thoughts have lingered on this. How Snowflakekit had not even the chance to feel the suns warmth himself or bare witness to the moons guidance in the dark. She thought of Batwing and wondered, in his final moments what he thought. Surely his children and mate, no doubt. But did he have a glimpse of wonder, thinking he would ever journey to StarClan in such a way? Did he ever envision himself as the type to retire to the elders den with his mate?

Hazecloud curled a gentle paw over one of her kittens shoulders, trying to ease them down for the night, with a slow lift of her gaze drawing toward the elders den in her thought. Did she see herself there, alone?

Lichentail would either die a deputy or nine times over for the sake of her Clan. The misty-furred she-cat knew without a doubt her mate never imagined a nest for her among their most senior Clanmates. Did that make her braver than she, or more reckless, she's unsure. She doesn't believe it to worry her for very long. Only until the shock of losing her friend ebbed and this little tiff between the pair is resolved. Lichentail would apologize after realizing Hazecloud wasn't budging on where she stood, surely.

Many like herself have allowed themselves to succumb to their growing drowsiness and try to settle in their nests. Just as many still linger about, tidying up camp, pacing until their minds catch up to their bodies and allow them rest. Hazecloud was no stranger to restlessness herself, but in her methods of routine to put her kits to bed she had also made herself trapped within her own nest to lay awake until sleep inevitably found her.

But Lichentail's entry is violent. No grace in her movements as the reeds part and icy skies wide with too many churning thoughts and emotions for Hazecloud to pinpoint exactly. Her immediate assumption is WindClan. That the moorland rodents had abused their leaders hospitality but no- it's the impossible.

The impossible day that Smokestar, the endless flame, was not there to rise again.

Lichentail is drowning in her own air and Hazecloud stepped forward with the same uncertain gait she had when they were stuck in the interim of being adversaries than lovers. Petalnose snapped the attention of her warriors for a patrol, remaining sensible in her role during this moment. Moonpaw bravely rose to join them. Salmonshade...

She's the better choice. A sticky thought that rooted her in place for another agonizing second. Warriors left and right take their roles, announce their positions and it's all too chaotic to even think of the next step. Of the what-ifs while they wait on a mission that s undoubtedly fruitless. If he could have been saved, if he could have been rescued, she did not believe Lichentail would have wasted precious moments doing that by returning here.

"There isn't a single set of paws in this camp that won't help." Finally the queen spoke, finally her limbs found feeling again as she took her rightful place in support of her mate. "We are here for you, Lichentail. I'm not leaving your side." All the twisting betrayal and smoky embers of feeling bitter were awash. This- her Clan- her mate- was more deserving of her attention.

"Here, Petalnose has this under control. Let's..." Spring bloom sights sought Salmonshade for a moment, expecting her to stay as well. "Let's sit in the shallows and breathe. We'll wait with you when they return." ​

 

[lichenstar]

✦　˚ 　✧ ˚　.˚　✦ 　✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• Willowroot's voice is an echo of all her hopes- her desperation, the demands that sit at the back of her throat. He's alive, she shrieks, He has to be alive. It's hidden in their tones, the tightness of their shrill cries... That stubborn dream. Petalnose stands as a mirror to what strength of hers that had collapsed in that gorge with him... A tower, reaching for the stars with frantic determination, scratching wildly at the sky to tear it closer so they might pluck it back into their grasp.
  
  She promises... something... her lips move and Lichentail knows she understands those words. A promise...? To find him.
  
  "Please..."
  
  The brush of a pelt against her side sends a spark down her veins, a jolt so alarming her pelt bristles against it. Wide eyes flash towards the sensation, reeling in the warmth under that gentle touch- Claythorn stares back at her with such calm... A memory of soaking fur confessing a tortured start. She was so... still.... made of carefully carved marble, never daring to crease even a corner of delicately sculpted eyes. Stone... sturdy... unbothered. Swallowing dryly, she just nods.
  
  Of course she'll go... Ever dutiful. Loyal to a group that had inherited her after so much torment.
  
  "He's... he can't be dead..."
  
  And again a presence curls against her, this one like the reassuring flicker of a summer campfire... The voice that hums there, soft as feather-down, it begs for her focus- a scattered mind fixating on it hungrily for security. "Sit..." The motion is mechanically obedient, relieved to sit back and just listen... To hear a command and follow it. No more thinking... no more thinking... no more remembering...
  
  Others chime in chorus with the crickets... chirping in furious crescendo... Calling to leave, to search, others to stay and protect, defend. It all drowns in the scent of daisies and roses... intoxicating... familiar... And yet so distant for what had felt like ages now, even if it had only been a few weeks at best. I needed you... hangs on a bitter tongue, I need you... goes left unsaid.
  
  Muscle moves in recollection of how they're supposed to... rather than with intentional, thoughtful purpose... Breathe. And wait. Because they'll come back with him. They have to.
• about
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  ooc notes ✦ petalnose is being tasked with taking a patrol out to look for smokestar- look forward to a follow up thread from her with more details
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• 
  
  ˚　　★⋆. ࿐࿔　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 .
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦　　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　​

​

 

[Tigersplash]

Tigersplash is too young to have outlived two leaders, there was no way Starclan would've been so greedy as to take Smokestar away from them she just can't believe it. Lichentail is in shock her word wheezed out in fragments but she can piece together what she means and the danger their proud leader was in, how had he fallen? Even the youngest apprentices knew to be cautious near the roaring waters, a misplaced paw would send you careening a normal cat had no hope of surviving they'd be bashed into the rocks below if the fall didn't kill them. She thought Smokestar had many lives to spare and she hopes the stars protect him. Her throat is dry, her fur prickled in alarm - her clanmates react in much the same way, their yowls erupt throughout the camp and many of them readily volunteer. Lichentail is falling apart before them, she was Smokestar's pillar of support his deputy and without him she's reeling. Sympathy pangs at her chest she was glad she'd returned to camp and hadn't thrown herself in after him into the swollen river.

Petalnose is the first to act directly, a patrol is gathering and she pads over to her and stops besides Foxtail her shoulder pressed against his own her tail flicking over to lay on his back, the touch soothes her nerves and she hopes it does the same for him. "I'll take a couple cats with me and look downstream, he might have been washed out" she knows very well how strong the currents were closer to the gorge, with hope it'd spit him out and he drifted towards smoother water rather then being dunked under by the rapids. It was unwise for all of them to join the same patrol, there was a lot of river to cover. "We'll bring him home, we have to" she has hope despite the odds, their leader was as strong as the river they were named for and Starclan wouldn't be so cruel as to let it be his undoing. There was no need to lose faith, she may be anxious but she wouldn't so readily give up hope.

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  text
  

• "speech"

• 

  Tigersplash ✩ She/He, Warrior of Riverclan, 18 moons
  ⭃ A chocolate/cinnamon chimera she-cat with high white and amber eyes
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

​

 

[claythorn]

A bitter breath left her at Lichentail's stark grief. Where she had looked to the deputy with such solid resolve, a similar image of that of Lichentail's rendition of Claythorn, Lichentail had cracked and sagged. Mismatched golden shifted to the rest of camp- cats declaring they would be going, others calling orders and ensuring that cats were where they needed to go. Claythorn let a shuddering breath out at the weight of it all- skull nodded towards Salmonshade as she joined her in supporting Claythorn.

Only when Hazecloud appeared did Claythorn relinquish her spot at the deputy's side, murmuring a soft apology to both of them. She shook her fur out briefly, still prickling where they had contacted one another. It wasn't that it had been uncomfortable to be at the deputy's side- more so that she felt upset she even needed to stand like that at Lichentail's side to begin with. "I'll head with Tigersplash. There's plenty of ground to cover." Claythorn spoke, and what went unspoken would likely haunt her for a long time. If we need to retrieve his body...

She swallowed the thought, moving to stand near the patrol leader.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ no current love interest / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​