camp AND I'M COLD, I KNOW — ghost stories

[fleabounce]

It is only as the weather sours and the nights lengthen that Fleabounce begins to consider fear. It doesn't grip her, she isn't so childish as to allow it to, but she feels it like instinct in the crook of her belly. It is remembered by her bones rather than her mind — it had been the depths of Leafbare the first and only time fear had truly clasped Fleabounce — and now, with a cold wind whistling through the shivering pines, the echoes of that fear settle over Fleabounce like snow over the hardened earth.

"Of course I believe in ghosts," Fleabounce says, because that's where the conversation has steered.

It is the very nature of fear that it will grow without acknowledgement, just as it is the nature of those who feel it to wish to share stories of it. Understanding it, controlling it — Fleabounce knows these to be the reasons why one would wish to hear about something that frightens them. These shorter days, the uncertainty with the illness and the rogues, all of these naturally bring it out of her clanmates.

Fleabounce looks serious as she speaks and each of her monotone words come crisp, without a hint of a lie, "Even before StarClan and the great battle, I had..." The pause is important: a break from Fleabounce's typical pattern. She cannot help herself, the corners of her mouth quirk into a subtle smile, "An encounter."​

SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR ▫ CHOCOLATE TORTOISESHELL WITH AN UNUSUALLY SHORT TAIL

LOW HEARING ▫ 81 MOONS ▫ TAGS​

■■■■■​

 

[Starlingheart]

Rare are the moments that Starlingheart gets with her clan now. Most of the time, she is working around the clock to keep her patients as healthy as she is capable of, coaxing them into eating, into drinking, into taking the herbs that only fought off the symptoms but didn't cure them. She is tired but still, when Fleabounce begins speaking she cannot help but lean forward with intrigue. The Great Battle... she had not been alive for it but her father had died in it, and she had heard stories. Rarer were the stories of the time before the clans, when ShadowClan was still just known as the Marsh Colony.

Fleabounce stating that she had seen a ghost makes her wonder. Did some form of StarClan exist before they became a formal thing? Did they show themselves to cats with words of prophecy like they did today? "What happened?" she finds herself asking, not able to hide the intrigue in her bright green eyes.

​

OOC NOTES . ✦ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  

  
  ➵ she / her
  ➵ shadowclan medicine cat
  ➵ mates with Granitepelt
  
  

  

  - - a small, black furred she-cat with green eyes
  ↪ toyhouse [ ✦ ]
  
  - - Starlingheart is the reclusive and anxious medicine cat of shadowclan. She tries her best to always be kind and to wear her heart on her sleeve but life has not always dealt her the best hand. Still, she does her best to remain optimistic and faithful to starclan even in the face of her clans cynicism. Because of her stutter, which is starting to improve as she gets older and gains more confidence in herself, she tries to speak as little as possible. Her quiet demeanor has granted her a valuable skill, however, the ability to listen. She prefers to hang back in the shadows and observe over being in the spotlight and because of this she has learned to pick up on things quickly. It is what she can attribute her quick skills as a medicine cat to, the ability to retain information, the ability to learn swiftly. Despite the way life has gone for her, she believes that there is good in everyone she meets. Because of this she trusts easily and therefor is easy to manipulate.
  ↪ INFJ-T 'the advocate'
  
  ➵ skilled medicine cat ; not very good at anything else
  ➵ BRIARSTAR X AMBER; sister to pitchstar, nightswarm, chittertongue, skunktail, and lilacfur; mother to nettlekit, ghostkit and flintkit
  ​

 

[NETTLEPAW ♡]

The fact was held close to his chest for fear of it being ruined for him, but Nettlepaw was very fond of make-believe. It didn't always have to be made up, either- just a good story would have him hooked of a little while, forgetting about the reality now. When he heard Fleabounce's words he did not have enough time to think, to temper the curious swivel of his ears and pretend that it didn't interest him. No, he shouldn't like stories anymore... he wasn't a kitten. And people would think him childish, wouldn't they? How close was childish to hateable?

Still... his mother listened in, and everyone liked her. Greeting her with a soft shoulder-bump, Nettlepaw settled beside her, head tilted at the very slightest angle. "Was it here?" he asked, a little question tagged onto his mothers', caring not- or remembering not- to hide the genuine extent of his intrigue. It was a fun thought, wasn't it? These shadowy marshes, haunted before the birth of StarClan itself...​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

in spite of their dislike for them, they do believe in starclan. it's a haunting existence, to have control over so much and do so little. they shiver with the thought before they simply settled near the others, tucking their paws beneath them, with a flick of their tail. ghosts, huh? this should be interesting. there was a very big difference between ghosts and starclan. what was that difference? don't ask them. they did not care.

"go on, then. i'm listening."

they had a hard time believing whatever this was. there was no way. she was just being dramatic.
​

 

[fleabounce]

Fleabounce's smile grows toothy, but only for a moment. She steps into the story, or she steps into the character of someone frightened enough to shake but not enough to stutter. Eyes on her — Fleabounce stands with some labor from where she had been sitting in an awkward splay. Starlingheart asked the right question; it was the only question that needed to be asked, but Nettlepaw had an admirable follow-up. Chilledstar didn't ask so much as they encouraged, in their own way.

"It wasn't here," Fleabounce says to Nettlepaw — soothes, if her monotone voice could allow for such a thing, "The whole thing started with my mother, countless seasons ago. Before I was even born."

The smiles and easy joy leave Fleabounce. She's serious, looking into the individual eyes of the gathered cats in turn, "It was a cold night, or so she had told me. She'd gotten into a spat with another loner, some grizzled tomcat who had given everyone who lived in the area trouble at one time or another. My mother had gotten frustrated with him in this spat and cut him across his eyes."

Fleabounce makes the slashing movement as she speaks, harsh into the empty air, "And she meant it only to shut him up for a time, but that tomcat's eyes had gotten infected. On a day where the snow was neck-high on a fox, that tomcat succumbed to that infection." She lets it hang — pauses for just long enough for the death to be felt, "Of course, my mother hadn't meant such a thing to happen, but if not for her actions, that tomcat would still have been alive."

"My mother always spoke of seeing him, hearing him, catching his scent on the wind. I never did. Growing up, even as a kit, I thought it was her guilt and nothing more. She would beg forgiveness when she thought I was too distracted to notice." Fleabounce inhales, long and slow. Closes her eyes as if to brace herself — her mouth doesn't curl with the story, but she feels a rumble of amusement high in her throat. When she speaks, she sounds and looks just as serious as she had before, "It wasn't until she passed away that I saw him for the first, and last, time."

"He appeared from nothing before me, a dark tom with an age-whitened muzzle. His eyes were closed, too swollen to open, and they oozed blood as thick and brown as mud. He called me by my mother's name — blind as he was, he must have recognized me as my mother by her scent in her absence, and he demanded I apologize for what she had done all those moons ago."

"I lifted my chin—" Fleabounce lifts her chin now, "—and I told him no. No, I wasn't going to. My mother had apologized for the rest of her natural life, and I wasn't going to carry her burden. He must have attacked me then, but it's a blur now. We fought, and I cut him across his eyes, just as my mother did. He could scratch me just fine, but each of my blows upon him felt like I was trying to press my paws through wet sand. But his eyes, his eyes felt real, and then just as quickly as he appeared in front of me, he dissipated into nothing."

It was Fleabounce's favorite part of the story now. She brings her tongue to her flank, makes quick work of smoothing and parting the fur there. A scar, puckered and off-white, rises from her skin. "This was his work," In truth, it had been a chain-link fence that Fleabounce had passed under, but her audience didn't need to know that, "His claws were sharper and colder than anything I've ever felt." Fleabounce smiles at last — warm, "That's my story. But I cannot be the only one here who has experienced something so... unusual."​

SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR ▫ CHOCOLATE TORTOISESHELL WITH AN UNUSUALLY SHORT TAIL

LOW HEARING ▫ 81 MOONS ▫ TAGS​

■■■■■​

 

[Starlingheart]

When her sons cinnamon colored fur brushes against her own midnight hued pelt she offers him a warm smile, even bumps him gently back with her own shoulder. Fleabounce tells a story not of a the benevolent StarClan spirits that she was used to seeing but of an angry, vengeful one, one who resorts to violence and hatred rather than kindness and forgiving. This has not been her own experience, but she believes it all the same. In order for there to be good there also had to be evil, it is how the world stays balanced.

When Fleabounce is finished she asks if anyone else has had a similar experience and immediately Starlingheart shakes her head "I-I have see-seen previously-previously deceased clanmates buh-both in dreams and the uh the wake-waking world but they have-they have never attacked me" she thinks about when Twilightfall had appeared to her and spoken of wild garlic, of when her mother had bestowed upon her her medicine cat name, her paws full of stars and her eyes full of a wisdom only obtainable in death.

​

OOC NOTES . ✦ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  

  
  ➵ she / her
  ➵ shadowclan medicine cat
  ➵ mates with Granitepelt
  
  

  

  - - a small, black furred she-cat with green eyes
  ↪ toyhouse [ ✦ ]
  
  - - Starlingheart is the reclusive and anxious medicine cat of shadowclan. She tries her best to always be kind and to wear her heart on her sleeve but life has not always dealt her the best hand. Still, she does her best to remain optimistic and faithful to starclan even in the face of her clans cynicism. Because of her stutter, which is starting to improve as she gets older and gains more confidence in herself, she tries to speak as little as possible. Her quiet demeanor has granted her a valuable skill, however, the ability to listen. She prefers to hang back in the shadows and observe over being in the spotlight and because of this she has learned to pick up on things quickly. It is what she can attribute her quick skills as a medicine cat to, the ability to retain information, the ability to learn swiftly. Despite the way life has gone for her, she believes that there is good in everyone she meets. Because of this she trusts easily and therefor is easy to manipulate.
  ↪ INFJ-T 'the advocate'
  
  ➵ skilled medicine cat ; not very good at anything else
  ➵ BRIARSTAR X AMBER; sister to pitchstar, nightswarm, chittertongue, skunktail, and lilacfur; mother to nettlekit, ghostkit and flintkit
  ​