AND NOW MY WATCH BEGINS ✧ journey recruitment

[BLAZESTAR]

The sun has burned away the morning fog by the time Blazestar returns from Fourtrees. He had bid goodbye to Howlingstar and detached himself from the last of the leaders, feeling comforted when the earth beneath his paws became soft with pine needles instead of leaf litter. There’s a briskness in the air, and despite his journey, he feels energized—even if some of that is nervous energy. His Clan will have wondered what it was he spoke to the other leaders about… and soon they shall find out.

The Ragdoll enters camp and rushes straight to the Highbranch, wasting no time and returning no early morning greetings. “All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highbranch for a Clan meeting!” His blue gaze travels over the faces clustering below him. Blazestar can hear their murmurs from where he sits, can see the bend of anxious tails, glittering eyes, and he calls for quiet with one golden-dipped forepaw raised.

“As you know, I’ve met with the other Clan leaders at Fourtrees.” His voice is deep and grave. “Dawnglare and the other medicine cats have all received signs from StarClan. They all believe StarClan wishes for the Clans to work together to journey to the mountains. There, we will find lungwort.” He will wait for yowls of excitement or exclamations of surprise to die down before continuing. “All Clan leaders… including myself… agree. We must send cats to go to the mountains.” His whiskers shake as he eyes the cats below him.

“I do not ask this of you lightly. This will be a very dangerous journey, and you should not go if you cannot work with the other Clans. This is StarClan’s will.” He lifts his chin. “If you do choose to go on this quest, you will need patience, courage, and wisdom. You will represent SkyClan… and you will be one of many who brings the cure for yellowcough back to the forest.”

After a pause, Blazestar asks with finality: “Which of you will go to the mountains?”

✧ INFO.

• STOLEN FROM AVA:
  
  Please do not have your character volunteer unless you've been oocly chosen. Those who have been picked should know who they are.
  
  I am for fun willing to have Blazestar deny a cat or two the right to going, but please DM me first before doing this to ensure I have a reason Blazestar would deny your character the right!
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Figfeather watches with wide eyes as Blazestar returns to camp. It takes everything inside of her not to immediately swarm him, what had happened? Had anything been decided? Yet she remains seated and watches him take position on the High Branch. Her heart quickens and she leaps to her paws, as quick as she can she settles herself among the rapidly growing crowd. Her ears prick attentively, Dawnglare and the medicine cats of the other medicine cat had recieved a sign from StarClan. They've come to the agreement that StarClan wishes for the clans to work together and journey into the mountains to get the cure for the illness that has plagued and taken so many of them. Excitement courses through her veins, she of course cannot help but wonder how they'll be able to pull off working with the other clans, namely WindClan... When has the moor group ever helped anyone? When have they ever put aside their selfish desires for another clan? Blazestar asks for volunteers, she feels her blood turn to ice in a shocking realization. 'I could go...' Yes! She could venture to the mountains, she could represent SkyClan and secure more lungwort for the clan. Yet she hesitates to move, the idea of leaving the forest and going past fourtrees was something she'd never contemplated before... It'd be further than the twoleg place, further than fourtrees, further than mothermouth. She'd venture lands she never knew existed; meet dangers she never could've dreamt of. Faster than she could think she rises to her paws. "I'll go." Courage shone in her voice, "For SkyClan!" For you, Tallulahwing.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The older warrior lifted his helm, liquid molten staring up at Blazestar with a deadpan expression, listening to the other with a flick of a torn ear. He rumbled, rattling his chest with the sound, letting his thoughts run, molten gaze settling on the few he’d grown close to. He didn’t think for a second they wouldn’t mourn his death, but it would be brief, as much as he didn’t deserve it. He cherished them all, but finally having the chance to put his foolishness to good use made his heart thrum, threatening to rip in two.

He would be leaving them, but it was for the better. Maybe then they would be saved from blackened paws. Maybe then he could atone for everything, but even that couldn’t possibly atone for everything. He supposed death would have been a far greater apology to the lives that have been lost, but he didn’t deserve such fate.

Duskpool pulled away from whoever he’d been listening to in order to clamber onto tired paws. He remained stationary, lifting his helm to peer up at his leader with hallowed hues, mind already made up despite the pleading expression Lostmoon tossed his way. Don’t worry, kiddo. He wanted to say, wondering how the others would react to him going.

It was dangerous, and Duskpool wasn’t one to shy away from that. He faced mutts far bigger than him and witnessed things that continued to haunt him. How could he not volunteer? He wouldn’t let anyone else willingly sacrifice themselves if he couldn’t help it. He knew he had little hope of returning, but as long as the others made it back, then he was content with that.

He’d made peace with his death long ago, even if the obsidian-furred male didn’t deserve it. “I’ll go.” His voice boomed across the camp, helm raised to stare at Blazestar with a tired hue. “Can’t be lettin’ others risk their lives if I’m not willin’.” He added, wooly tail flickering, voice steady as it’s ever been.

Duskpool would be damned if anyone died on this blasted journey, surrounded by cats from all clans, even if he didn’t like some of ‘em. He wasn’t that kind of fool. So what if he perished? Better him than anyone else, he always thought, glancing at Figfeather for only a second before letting his gaze rest on Blazestar. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— a clan meeting—blazestar rushes into camp following his mysterious meeting, sun burning away mist behind him like a marker of the golden tom's arrival. she doesn't even have the time to greet him before he's sweeping his way to the highbranch and commanding the clan forward. a casual amusement mingles with anxiety at how quickly he'd rushed in, wondering what news he bears; is it a solution to the illness that eats away at their camp, an invisible predator no amount of soldiers can defeat? have the five leaders together managed to discover some way to discover lungwort even as greenleaf's end wilts the trees and leaf-fall barely cools the air? she prays it is so—bobbie does not know how much more loss her heart can take, how much longer she can watch her clanmates die, unable to help.

at his news, the crowd jostles around her, but if yowls of excitement or surprise split the air, she doesn't join them. clanborn she is not, but her pool of respect for blazestar is deep and she prefers to keep her speaking minimal when he commands the clan from the highbranch. white paws dig into the earth—whether to merely keep herself steady in the growing crowd or hold herself upright in the weight of her shocked relief, she's not quite sure. warmth rushes into veins long cold with terror at the news; a cure, growing in the distant mountains. something that will finally silence the incessant wheezing that sets her heart to aching, wipe the anxieties from her brow, save her clanmates. skyclan has, as far as she can tell, lost the most to yellowcough—tallulahwing, sheepcurl, mountainheart flash through her mind—and the cure their sick need so desperately seems to dwindle with every sunrise.

and yet, in the face of her relief, pain thuds in her chest like a weight even as he asks for volunteers. as figfeather, duskpool, others speak up around her, she knows what she must do. there is simply not another option ahead of her—the mere thought, the idea of sitting restless in camp as her clanmates vanish past highstones and more of them collapse every day outweighs the pain of leaving. but she cannot stop the hurt - the ache that settles into its old spot against her ribs as hopeless green eyes flick towards blue. she does not want to leave her children, her friends, the golden tom before her behind for unfamilar cats and danger, but she must. staying here is no longer an option; if their cats must work with the other clans, extend the paw of diplomacy, fight through the mountains for the cure, she is determined to be among them. she owes skyclan her life time and time over; for every cat who sneers at her collar, for her children and her clanmates who teeter on the claw-edge of illness, for the home she's found: she must.

"i'll go," she raises her soft voice above the low rumble of whispered chatter, rising to her paws and lifting green eyes to meet deep blue. her tone is, for once, firm and uncompromising as she mews, "like figfeather said - for skyclan."

NO LOVE, HOWEVER BRIEF (✿) 𝑰𝑺 𝑾𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫

• ooc: ——
  
• nothing here, have a nice day :-)
• 
  — bobbie
  — she/her ; warrior of skyclan ; 40 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — chibi by its_oliverr
  — penned by dejavu
  

​

 

[Orangestar]

ORANGEBLOSSOM — tags​

Orangeblossom heeds Blazestar's call as she always does, planting herself on the deputy's little patch of earth among the tangle of roots beneath Highbranch. She tips her muzzle skyward, towards their leader, listening intently as Blazestar calls for volunteers to undertake the journey for lungwort. A vision from StarClan, agreed upon by all five leaders ... the fur on the back of her neck stands on end. StarClan's will, a journey for some of their best. She eyes the cats who have volunteered thus far with a curious brown eye.

Figfeather being the first to volunteer is little surprise. For SkyClan! She crows, but they all know well that the golden tabby is among those with the most incentive to ensure that what happened to Tallulahwing never happens again. Still, Figfeather seems to bristle with determination, and maybe a little bit of excitement too.

Duskpool has always been noble, and his rumbling answer to the call comes as expected. She wonders if it's because he too, has lost so much in the past moon; kin laid to rest among SkyClan's graves where they'll remain safe and sound. Beneath the boughs of SkyClan's pines, and beneath that, beneath StarClan's watch.

Bobbie, however, does come as a surprise that turns Orangeblossom's face towards the older molly. Her son is sick; with the proven lethality of yellowcough, would she really risk being so far from the Clans if he passes?

Still quiet for now, this makes Orangeblossom think. None of her own kits are ill. None of her kin are. She's loathe to miss more of Eveningpaw's training, the calico's development into a fine warrior stunted by hiccups and her disappearance to rear kits; but Orangeblossom knows she will be in safe paws during her absence, should Blazestar allow her to go.

When Orangeblossom had been promoted, there had been no ceremonial oath. No declaration to the stars on her behalf in the way that a new warrior's vow is uptaken. Only the announcement under StarClan that she would be Deersong's replacement. Yet, in the time since, she has demonstrated one of her own. A deputy is to do what's right by her Clan, even if that takes them away from their post. Be it in skirmish or in search, in this case for a cure to save her Clan, she would put herself forward: and so, she does.

"If you'll have me, Blazestar, I'll go."

​

 

[SLATE]

All eyes in camp were on Blazestar as the flame-hued leader descended upon the Highbranch to address the clan. Dawnglare's lungwort supply had been depleted and so the leaders had come to only a single conclusion — journeying to the mountains with cats of each clan. StarClan had apparently communicated their wishes to the medicine cats, though Slate couldn't be so sure of the legitimacy of their cryptic dreams. Is he serious? Their oh-so-wise ancestors couldn't even be bothered to warn the clans of this deadly illness but they'll tell us where the cure is after cats have already died? And it was in some faraway place, at that! How many more cats would perish before more lungwort was brought back? Slate didn't understand StarClan's ways, and frankly, he wasn't sure if he ever would.

Blazestar doesn't assign certain cats to travel. Instead, he asks cats to step forward and bravely offer themselves in the name of their clan. Cats like Figfeather and Bobbie were quick to volunteer, which prompted a curious cock of his brow — Figfeather was young. A decent warrior, yes, but still inexperienced. Bobbie was even more so, only having recently started her warrior training. She was meek and soft-hearted, like the former kittypet she was, and Slate could only wonder if any newfound confidence would falter in Blazestar's absence. Duskpool was probably the best pick for the job so far; his brute strength and muscle could fend off any potential threats.

Then, Orangeblossom. Slate's jaw parts only slightly, amber eyes fixed onto the ginger-and-white molly as conflict begins to eat at him from the inside. Was choosing to embark on this quest a smart idea? What if they encountered trouble during their travels? A seasoned deputy like Orangeblossom could surely hold her own; she had always been steadfast and strong. Still... Slate would feel immense guilt if something happened to her while he was just stuck in camp, milling around. She doesn't need his protection, and yet, why does he feel so inclined to offer it?

Slate's loyalty to SkyClan could be described as nuanced at best. It isn't something so black and white, whether he's completely devoted to the clan or not. Slate is a lead warrior under Blazestar, having lived in this forest for several moons now, and has learned the ways of the clan cats... even if he doesn't dare to fully call himself one. However, after such a traumatizing experience as an adolescent and living the majority of his life on the streets, it was nerve-wracking to wholeheartedly pledge his life to an organization — a leader — of any kind. That fear of abandonment and betrayal still lingered in the back of his mind like a parasite, affecting the way he viewed Blazestar and SkyClan as a whole.

Still, there was so much that Slate owed to SkyClan. They had taken him in, a hungry rogue in the dead of leafbare, and had even saved him from twolegs. He stood there now as an able-bodied and healthy cat who was perfectly capable of offering himself for this dangerous journey. Who knew what could await him in distant lands, but he had survived many things thus far. As long as he kept his wits about him and didn't do anything stupid, he could very well complete this trek successfully. Besides, remaining in camp any longer meant that he was more at risk of catching the illness. He'd rather die on a perilous mission than succumb to an invisible sickness.

The Maine Coon steps forth next, perhaps raising a few eyebrows in the process. "Me too." He grunts aloud. Hopefully he wasn't making a huge mistake.

✰ INFO

• 
  
• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[Howlfire]

When her father returns, Howlfire is already alert that something was about to happen. Amber eyes follow him as he makes his way to his familiar spot on the Highbranch and summons the clan.

She listens with interest as he begins by revealing that Dawnglare had received a sign from StarClan. And it seemed not just Dawnglare, but all of the medicine cats. Howlfire wondered if they had all had the same vision or if they had different ones. Regardless, it seemed as though they had all come to the consensus that it was StarClan's wish for the clans to journey to the mountains to retrieve lungwort. The idea of travelling so far for a cure left Howlfire feeling unsure. The journey itself seemed so long and potentially perilous, but to have a paw in bringing a cure back to the clans filled Howlfire's heart with a sense of desire. There was also the slight excitement of seeing lands beyond those of the clans, though Howlfire would not openly express that.

When her father calls for volunteers, she ponders the decision for a moment, her mind tells her to stay, but her heart please for her to go. "I'll go," Howlfire mewed. "If you'll have me."​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Located somewhere between her mother and Slate, to no one's surprise closer to the former, Cherrypaw sits with her plumed tail curled neatly around her paws. Now's an odd time for a meeting, though she doesn't directly think that. The kittens in the nursery right now don't seem like they're old enough to be apprenticed yet, though, despite only having been out of the nursery for two moons, she finds it hard to gauge the maturity of the gross little critters. She's a whole apprentice now too: no SkyClanner would catch her huddling like a pathetic baby looking for milk in the nursery, even if she were dead.

It's only a little to sunhigh, but Blazestar's face is lined with the bleak grey shadows of night. His paw rises as smoothly and quickly as a boulder being hauled through mud. Word of his outing last night had spread faster than the plague through the quieting camp, many who, after another long day of being a SkyClanner, had little to do other than pray for the loved ones who'd never left their nests at all that day.

Cherrypaw, too, had found herself among the unlucky ones, those who needn't fight for their life but resign themselves to watching others do it alone. She doesn't suffer as much as Crowpaw's mother does—even Cherrypaw isn't arrogant enough to believe that—but she carries his wretched face, his fever-flame, with her wherever she goes now. He wouldn't die. He couldn't—not with the cure Dawnglare had forced him to choke down. Still he lies there, chained to the enigmatic medicine cat and his cluster of prisoners, instead of yammering her ear off about how much he (surprisingly) likes Silversmoke and where he took his nap today. Or something like that.

Then Blazestar drops the bomb, and just like that Cherrypaw is on her paws yowling along with everyone else. "What?!" StarClan? All four clans? Cherrypaw nudges the SkyClanner she's next to with a paw, likely a friendlier face, and she grins so hard her cheeks ache. "We're doing stuff with the other clans? You know, I didn't even know StarClan actually talked to the medicine cats—I thought they just sent them leaves or something. Oh, hey, do you, like, know what mountains even are? They're like giant rocks, like taller than trees—no, I'm serious—" Her frantic whispering is cut off by a combination of the cats around her shushing her and Blazestar beginning to speak again.

He says something about the danger, the other clans, and the obligatory spooky comment about StarClan that he probably passed down to Fireflypaw. All Cherrypaw pays attention to is the fact that they're sending SkyClanners. At first she leans forwards with the expectation of him calling out the names of the chosen, as he does with apprentices and mentors, picking the former up with his divine hand and placing them into the open paws of his elder devotees. But as he continues, it becomes increasingly obvious that he does not have a little mental list, or even an idea of who to send. He is rushed and stressed, frantic even. The leader of SkyClan simply does not have the time to mull over who to sacrifice, so he asks them to weed themselves out.

He asks, and Figfeather immediately leaps off. Then Duskpool, Bobbie—Orangeblossom. Cherrypaw can't help but twist her head towards her mother, mouth parting in an indiscernable expression. Immediately, she is not the least bit worried. But confused, yes, and in awe and shock and questioning. Didn't Blazestar need his deputy? Then Slate says he'll go, which blows her out of the water entirely. She stares at him, incredulous. This monster, the beast who'd glared at the thought of RiverClan crossing their borders and told her WindClan would rip her to shreds like moss, was volunteering to go work with them? Sure, it's for the cure, but Slate didn't care about anybody. Not like Figfeather or Duskpool or Bobbie or her mother or Howlfire.

That's it! The girl stands, bold as brass, sunshine eyes blaring gold with the confidence of a thousand warhorns. "I'm going too," Cherrypaw announces. If her mother could go, and if her big dumb rogue mentor could go, then she could go too. She would because she could, because doing something would be better than patrolling and training and pretending like normal until she got sick like everyone else. Which she wasn't going to, because she was doing something about it. There had to be something that made Cherrypaw different, stronger and special-er, from everyone who'd fallen, and this had to be it. And, she quietly supposes, she could now do something about them not being as strong as her. Something like help.​

 

[CHALK]

⭒✧ Blazestar’s sandstone silhouette punched through camp, settling atop High Branch with tangible intent. The potential of news about the sickness and the other clans’ wellbeing in the face of it kept Chalk firmly rooted in the clearing. While cats like Sparrowsong were finally emerging from the medicine, the weight of dwindling herbs and lost lives made optimism a tricky outlook to imbibe. News of a journey was a surprise however. Starclan, as mysterious as they were, had proven significant in the release of the Shelter cats, himself included, and so Chalk couldn't help but trust the leader's transmittance.

The snow-surf of his tall ears rolled ever higher. Mountains? The daylight warrior had seen captured images of the monoliths before, slides flicked through at the paw of a disinterested twoleg. Chalk lacked their worldliness however, and the peaks had remained in his minds eye ever since. They looked to be of such a scale that pines were mere needles on their back, thinned by frosty cloud cover.

Blazestar speaks of patience, courage, wisdom. Two of those traits were ones he liked to think he embodied, he tried to at least, but courage… The word tinkered with the plan constructing in his mind, a tapped pen on a whiteboard. Chalk remained stone-still even as their leader finished his speech.

Volunteers sprouted all throughout the gathered cats, Orangeblossom and her daughter, Bobbie, Figfeather. Was it wrong of him, to be so anxious to see more of the world, when lives were at stake? Skyclan was full of good, honourable cats- a strict selflessness that felt a little foreign sometimes. He felt the beginnings of it but always, curiosity won. Could he relish in new revelations as his clanmates fought to find lungwort beside him? They aren’t mutually exclusive, Chalk told himself, almost timidly. The tom’s parchment tail rattled briefly.

The inevitable loss of his usual daily lesson, the thing that kept his warriorhood in ‘daylight’ status, dismissed with ease, the fawn cat slunk forward. "If I am suitable, I will go." Chalk’s voice held a clarity his expression did not, his feelings buried beneath a straight spine and an even gaze. ​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[GREENEYES]

His stroll across camp stops mid-stride as Blazestar enters camp after his sudden departure - a return marked by little greeting before the leader leaps to take his place upon Highbranch, calling the clan's attention from his podium once more.

Greeneyes' path toward a morning of hunting with Falconpaw ends there, snow-capped paws turning instead to head in the direction of the clan's meeting-grounds instead. A wide-eyed gaze peers up at the golden-furred tom from above as a nervous sense of anticipation rises within the warrior, within the rest of the audience that awaits Blazestar's news.

There had to be some news, right? Some big decision made between the leaders, some way to ease yellowcough in the case of dwindled supplies - Blazestar wouldn't stand before them without reason, right?

Dawnglare has received a sign from StarClan. So have the rest of the medicine cats. Blazestar details StarClan's will, describes a new location to find lungwort in the form of distant mountains. A decision has been made between the five leaders - to send cats of each clan to the mountains, a unification of rivals that leaves some in the crowd yowling in surprise.

Greeneyes expects Blazestar to have made the choice already on who's to go, ears straining to hear the names of those who will depart on the journey through chatter in the audience. Those he'll have to say goodbye to before they depart; more faces lost, though he can only hope the loss is temporary this time. Ears twitch when no names reach his ears, rather a question: a search for volunteers.

He hesitates then.

The warrior hadn't expected to have this option - hadn't expected Blazestar to put him on any hypothetical list he'd expected to hear in replacement of the leader's call, really. He has Falconpaw to train, has his sisters and friends to watch out for. One less so, as Figfeather's voice is the first to erupt from the crowd, the first to declare her spot on the journey. For SkyClan! she shouts, as Greeneyes stomach sinks with uncertainty.

Greeneyes thinks of Fireflypaw, busy in the medicine den - one that has smelled less of death recently; an odor that is bound to return if more lungwort isn't found soon. A frantic worry he doesn't want his best friend to possess again, as patients in the medicine den build up once more.

He thinks of Sparrowsong and Dandelionwish, thinks of Quillstrike, friends that the clan would have been left to mourn without what little of the cure had been left in storage. He thinks of Sheepcurl, of Mountainheart, of Tallulahwing - those he does mourn, those lost in the time before lungwort's properties had been discovered. He thinks of the faces that could be lost to this bout of depletion, blurred in his mind, left to mournfully discover if the plague lasts any longer. He thinks of pointed fur again, worries for Fireflypaw again. Worries for Falconpaw, for Butterflywish, for --

"I'll go," Greeneyes blurts out before he was aware he'd even made a decision. He does not dwell on the logistics of his namesake now - does not let viridian mindsets rescind his declaration. Instead he takes a breath, a gaze set upon the leader above. "For SkyClan." he firmly echoes his sister's statement with a nod of his head. He has to do this, for them.

For his loved ones - his friends and family. For Butterflytuft and Violetnose, for Fireflypaw, for Falconpaw and for Sheepcurl. For SkyClan.
​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

One by one, his Clan lifts their voices. Blazestar does not speak until the final one has died down, until the camp is silent and waiting for his verdict. He studies each of them, those who have volunteered their lives for this mission. He is weighed down now with the burden of decision—were those who have spoken their vows fit to make it to the mountains and return home with their Clanmates? Did they have what it would take?

Figfeather had been the first, and her brother Greeneyes, though seemingly a little more hesitant, had added his voice to hers. Daisyflight’s kits. Losing them in some unknown place would be a little like losing her all over again, with no body to mourn, but Blazestar cannot deny their courage and passion for their Clan. He has faith in both of them, he realizes, and to himself, he gives a silent mental stamp of approval.

Next, mercifully, is Duskpool, an experienced and battle-hardened warrior. Blazestar wonders if this is an act of self-flagellation, self-punishment, but he shoves the uncharitable thought away. Duskpool has always done everything for SkyClan, for his family. Blazestar does not doubt he would fight tooth and claw to bring the lungwort back for his Clanmates.

A cat not yet a full warrior volunteers next, though Blazestar is confident in her warrior’s spirit. Bobbie. Her kits have grown ill, one recovering and one still curled, cureless, in her nest of moss and bracken. Blazestar can see the determination on her face, and he has faith in her abilities, but part of him wants to tell her no! He stares at the white-flecked lilac tabby with dismay dark like shadowed pools in the bottom of his blue gaze. She is still learning to fight, to climb—and she will be going somewhere none of them have ever gone before, no doubt facing dangers Blazestar has not ever dreamed of.

Still… he cannot refuse her, can he? The Clans cannot afford for him to, and in the end, he knows Bobbie would not thank him for doing so. She is not a helpless kittypet anymore. It is time to let her prove that to everyone else.

Orangeblossom and Slate are surprises to Blazestar. He had not expected anyone on his council to volunteer—and he knows it will be a struggle to part with either his stern but level-headed deputy and his fierce, roguish lead warrior. Their Clan will be stretched thin without them, particularly the deputy they had only recently gained back full-time, but the Ragdoll knows their leadership and strength will be a boon to the journeying cats.

And then his daughter—Blazestar wants to curse at himself, he should have known Howlfire might have volunteered for this dangerous expedition—but she’s a full warrior of SkyClan, and she has both spirit and battle skill. Like Bobbie, like Figfeather and Greeneyes, there is no reason in the world but bias that pulls at his tongue to deny her. And he will not—he cannot.

The final two to add their voices are more surprising. Cherrypaw is hardly six moons old, a new apprentice with very little training. Blazestar immediately begins to shake his head, but first he catches Slate’s eye, then Orangeblossom’s. The girl’s mentor will be there to guide her, as well as her mother and Clanmates. Perhaps it would be wrong of him to keep her home when the experience could bring her a good deal of strength and discipline.

Chalk is the last to speak, and Blazestar eyes the daylight warrior curiously. He is the only one of their rank to have spoken up, and perhaps it is because Chalk has no true housefolk. If the flame point had to guess, Chalk’s interest went beyond that of helping SkyClan—and he could not blame the pale tom. This was an opportunity afforded to few, a chance to see things few cats could have imagined. Besides, he’s level-headed enough, Blazestar thinks.

“SkyClan honors all who have volunteered for this dangerous mission. Orangeblossom, Slate, Duskpool, Chalk, Greeneyes, Figfeather, Howlfire, Bobbie, and… Cherrypaw. You will be the ones to represent SkyClan on this quest.” He sighs, his ears drooping just slightly. “I expect you all to exercise caution on this journey. You will follow Orangeblossom’s orders, and Slate’s in her absence.” StarClan forbid. “You have until the Gathering to say your goodbyes and prepare.”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Oh, this was worrying. Worrying above all. What a miracle it had felt like when the cure was found- a miracle, if there ever was one- but even the brightest lights had their looming shadows. He'd been able to tell something was coming, Blazestar having departed so, so suddenly... but this was near unfathomable. StarClan's wish was to scatter the Clans in two, sending a group from all walks to the mountains?

He'd no doubt Daisyflight and her peers knew what they were talking about up there, but... it was unfathomable, the idea of them working together. Fear gripped him at the concept of having to work with WindClan... herb-greedy as they were. Everyone in SkyClan had seen it themselves. Who was sure that the moor-dwellers wouldn't steal all the lungwort for themselves, slaughtering anyone who tried to stop them?

Mind set spiralling, he could only reel further as more and more cats piped up to volunteer. Figfeather, Duskpool, Orangeblossom- strong figures, respectable- all of them. That wasn't surprising. Bobbie- compassionate, and he knew her to be brave. No doubt Lupinepaw falling sick would spur her on, too... he fixed the doe-faced woman with a quick glance, before transfixed eyes slipped back up to the sun-pelted leader. Slate, again unsurprising... he'd be good muscle. And determined Howlfire was an easy bet, too. Cherrypaw, ever a spitfire... ever-clashing with his own apprentice... maybe she'd bring some youthful vigour. Chalk was level-headed, curious and clever- seemed knowledgable about unconventional things, too. Maybe if they faced something no Clan cat had ever seen, he'd come out with something unexpected. And last came Greeneyes- a friend forged in the fires of a shared childhood and traded glances. Over time he'd come to think of the tom as a fairly close companion- his wide gaze wobbled upon his former mentor's child for a few moments. He would say a goodbye to all of them, soon. A goodbye for now, he hoped.

Part of him felt great guilt for not speaking up himself- but Orangeblossom and Slate had both volunteered, and if Blazestar was staying... he would still need his council. Twitchbolt only hoped he could be useful in that way- and that the sickness would continue to toe the line around him. He'd dodge infection with his caution, and he'd guard SkyClan where it was most vulnerable- here with the sick, the young and the old. Looking to Blazestar, a glint of determination lay within a fearful green gaze. I'm with you.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

There’s some worry as to what this meeting could be about, but Drizzlepelt’s nerves calm when it’s announced that StarClan sent a sign as to where more of the cure for Yellowcough could be found. In the mountains, though? It’s a big risk, to be sure. At least every other clan would be sending their own cats alongside theirs, so there’s somewhat of a safety net. It’s easy to see the tension that permeates the crowd, even so.

Drizzlepelt wants to be one of the cats to sign up, as he knows he fits what kind of warrior the others expect of a clan cat. He would make a good representative, surely. But as quick as the thought of volunteering comes to him, bile rises to his throat. It surprises him, and he doesn’t know what to think of it. Why is his body fighting against his mind this time?

While some of the others slowly step forward, he’s lost in his brain trying to search for why the thought of going is making him feel sick. It has to be with the fact that the other clans will be accompanying the volunteers, right? And then it comes to him. It’s WindClan, isn’t it? It took him more than a moon to slowly come back to himself after their scuffle, so it’s not surprising that the memory still continues to haunt him. He’s only had so much time to heal.

Blazestar finally settles on who will be going, and Drizzlepelt’s tail drops. He’s too late, anyways. There’s a mix of disappointment in himself, but also relief. Before he has the time to spiral, he settles on recognizing the relief instead. Yeah, he could still be useful while some of SkyClan is away. Maybe it’ll give him space to show that he’s still steadily improving himself, and Blazestar will recognize it. And on that thought, he smiles at those who would risk themselves for the sake of their family.​

 

[APPLEFROST]

Tired, aching paws halt in their pacing only at the sight of Blazestar breaking through, not waiting for any questions or greetings, his path set for his perch. Apple Stem had made the uncommon decision not to return home that night, and surprisingly several nights before. The sickness the rolled over their camp had struck her with fear. Fear of losing another Clanmate in her absence or worse, her family. She had been luckier than most in not having to worry about any of them being sick like so many others, but that could quickly change. She wouldn't risk missing a single moment without them.

The call for volunteers is met by many, with Apple Stem herself thinking of going. She was by no means SkyClans strongest warrior, or even their best in any capacity, but she would have tried. She would have been brave for them. Unfortunately she wasn't quick enough, even her own sister and little Cherrypaw announcing their participation.

Amber eyes switched between the two she-cats. StarClan had better protect them, she would tear the pines upside down if she had to lose them.

"I will stay here, for Hiccuppaw, Glimmerpaw, Sunshinepaw and Eggpaw. I'll make sure they're on their best behavior without you here." Hopefully, at least. She didn't have any clue as to how Orangeblossom catered to five kits at once. Now that they were all apprentices, hopefully their mentors would keep them in line, but she knew herself the temptation of misbehaving when the Warden wasn't around.

"And you, Berry-Merry-Miss-Cherrypaw." She turned to Cherrypaw next, smiling proudly at the young cat. "I'm going to miss you both so much, but you're in good paws and good company." Apple Stem reached down to nuzzle the calico. "If you ever miss me, just look at the moon. I'll be looking at it with you."​