delayed AS IT WAS — highstones sighting

[Orangestar]

𝐵𝑈𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐴 𝑊𝑂𝑀𝐴𝑁, 𝐵𝑌 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝑁𝐷 ✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀

• 
  
  — orangeblossom | tags
  — she/her ; deputy of skyclan, mentoring eveningpaw.
  — scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes.
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — chibi by waluigipinball
  — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
  
  

​

They've fallen into a rhythm by now. Rise at dawn, decide Stormpaw's handlers for the morning, make slow progress until the sun is somewhere between dawn and sunhigh. Swap, hunt, scout around. Rest for a short time, share prey, find water. Find a place to rest when the sun dips below the horizon, sort out night watch. Sleep, trade places at moonhigh, and repeat. The open fields continue to stretch, rolling and rippling in such a way that it gives the appearance of water at times - though this is a far cry from the sundrown place.

A quarter moon since the journeying group had split up, sunhigh brings with it something new. At first, there's nothing to them - a shadow on the horizon, clawing at the sky's base like a kit learning to use its claws for the first time. Cobalt, jagged, periodically hidden as clouds drift across the blue above, and slowly growing more imposing as they continue closer. Orangeblossom crests a small incline, her fur tugged to her left with a breeze that brings with it the promise of leafbare. Her eyes narrow, tracing the distant sight for long enough that she's sure.

Orangeblossom's steps are hurried as she circles back to the group, tail aloft and betraying her stoic expression as she falls into step with their small group once more. They're currently climbing a small hill, near to but not quite where the deputy had made her discovery.

"Good news." She meows and points her nose towards the horizon. "Those ... are Highstones."​

 

[LIGHTSTRIKE .]

❝ WE HAVE YET TO CRASH ✧°.☀ —————————————————————————————
Lightstrike's writhing feelings remained behind clenched teeth as the group, far smaller than it was before, made its slow but steady trek home. Were the others home by now, he wondered? Just how much further did they have to go?

It was often that the golden tom offered to carry Stormpaw upon his shoulders, and now was such a time that he had successfully taken her weight. It was difficult, even for a cat of her smaller size, yet the warrior refused to utter a peep.

He was exhausted by the time they crested the hill, and it left frustration kindling in his heart. Even so, despite the furrowing of his brows and his pursed lips, any requests or offers to take the apprentice had been met with clipped denial. He should have been there. He should have prevented her from being hurt so bad, and it was only fair that he did this for her now.

They had already lost Little Wolf. They couldn't lose her too.

A narrowed green gaze was fixated upon white paws when Orangeblossom's voice reached his ears. He'd been focused on his breathing, slow and quiet so as to not betray how out of breath he felt, and the deputy's words were late to be processed. Lightstrike raised his head. "Huh?" he breathed, stare searching.

There, in the distance. Highstones. Despite it all, despite the lead in his limbs, a trickle of energy flowed through him, and he took a few paces closer to the front of the group. "We're almost home," he said, round eyes turning to the rest of them. "If we- if we pick up the pace, we can do it. Maybe we can get there by night? If we're fast?"

He just wanted to be home. Lightstrike wanted things to go back to normal. No more... caves, no more disgustingly cold winds and snow, no more eagles, no more sickness, and no more death. He wanted to goof around with his friends again. He wanted to hear Burnstorm's dumb laugh, wanted to see Moonwhisper glare daggers at him for a stupid remark. He wanted one of the older warriors to tell him to shut up for chatting too late at night. He wanted normalcy.

// obligatory @STORMPAW tag since he is carrying her

[penned by its_oliverr - ☀]

——————————— ☀.°✧ BUT WE STILL MAY AS WELL ENJOY IT ❞ ​

​

 

[Magpiepaw]

—————————————————————⊰♰⊱————————————————————
"I don't want to rush and risk hurting Stormpaw more, her injuries require less jostling..." He warns to Lightstrike's enthusiasm, though he does understand. Magpiepaw keeps his pace with them the best he can, leaning on various cats occasionally to right his direction and keep his paws moving forward rather than wandering off to the side, but he makes it a point to not bump into the cats carrying the wounded apprentice.
The sight of Hightstones does bring him a brief moment of relief, having worried they might have gotten turned around or were even further delayed than he initially thought. The black and white apprentice dances ahead of the group on lopsided steps only to glance back and wait for them to catch up with a smile before lifting his head and rising on the tips of his paws to try and get a better look at the looming stones in the distance. He would stop and see StarClan again before returning home maybe, or perhaps he'd just hurry to ShadowClan to see his mentor and make sure the lungwort got there along with his clanmates. A hum escapes him, glancing around at the ThunderClanners, SkyClanners and the single RiverClan and WindClan cat as well. It was odd but...it was hard to tell them apart on scent alone anymore and he wondered what his own pelt smelled like, had he lost all of the marshes loamy earth scent by now? Did he not carry with him the aroma of frog and bitter leaves.

————— ⸸ looks like the stars won't shine much longer ———— ⸸ so give me your hand

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Magpiepaw
  —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
  

 

[GREENEYES]

Greeneyes is starting to get used to the steady pace they've been going. It's slower than it had been before the split, slower than what his paws urge him to go, but not painstakingly so - progress is still being made, though sometimes it feels like it isn't, like they'll never return. Still, they've been without too much trouble in their slowed journey, and the SkyClanner can only hope that the same went for their opposing group.

His mind drifts to them as the group makes their way over yet another unfamiliar hill - another landmark he can't grasp hold of in his mind. Where they currently stood, he does not know, but he wonders where the other group is now. Back home, in the safety of their clans? Had the lungwort been divvied out between the sick already? Were they on the mend, the journey's mission completed?

Orangeblossom's voice cuts into his thoughts with good news, a headline he's sure he misheard. "Huh? Where? Are... Are you sure?" A malachite gaze lifts to follow hers, and sure enough - there, blurred in the distance and peeking out between the clouds, his memory can finally grab hold of a landmark, claim it in familiarity. Highstones.

His eyes widen at the landscape before him, and he could cry. He can't believe it - can't believe how close they are to home now. Finally, finally. Soon, their journey would be done too. It's a bittersweet thought he realizes, returning home - seeing his family again, but leaving the journey's bond behind. Is he ready to depart from this? To not be among the cats he'd been walking alongside for the last two moons? He'll have to be - his sisters are waiting for him, his apprentice, his friends.

Ears twitch at Lightstrike and Magpiepaw's conversation - a question of picking up the pace that Greeneyes would like, but feels isn't suited for their group's mission. Stormpaw needs to make it home in as much of one piece as she can and Magpiepaw seems adamant that a quicker pace may accomplish otherwise.

"How long do you think it will be then?" he asks. If not by night, it must be soon enough, at least.

✦ ABOUT

• 
  

  
  
  GREENKIT ‣ GREENPAW ‣ GREENEYES, Warrior of SkyClan
  — Daisyflight x Raven Ramble
  — AMAB; He/Him
  — A red tabby and white tom with bright green eyes.
  — Mentored by Sheepcurl; Currently mentoring Falconpaw
  — "Speech"; Attack
  
  ✦･ﾟ: * — Among SkyClan's first born, Greeneyes is a bright tom with an affinity for the world around him. Despite always seeking to be kind to others, the warrior believes he's cursed - a belief brought on by rhetoric that green is a deadly color.

​

 

[Cherryblossom]

The wind runs its fingers through her fur like a lover, or an old friend. Upon it she swears she can smell Highstones, its unforgiving bluffs, its ragged patches of toughgrass. She barely remembers the feel of pebble-laden soil between her paws. It'd been a moon ago—no, more than a moon ago. A lifetime ago, it feels like. The cat who'd waltzed through Highstones had been a different cat, with an unbroken pelt and gleaming eyes. The thought makes her scars ache. Every waking moment had been painful in their descent from the mountains, but by the time they stand within eyeshot of Highstones, her wounds have closed enough to begin flaking away.

The others begin chattering about what lay before them, only at most a couple more sunrises, but all Cherrypaw can think of is what they left behind. Or rather, what had left them behind. She wonders what had gone through Scorchpaw's head when the advance group had first spotted Highstones. It must have been nearly a quarter-moon before. Had her snow-dipped paws touched the very earth Cherrypaw does now? Had she stood and savored the view, or had she and the rest simply forged on? Cherrypaw wonders if her tongue had gone numb holding onto the lungwort for so long, or whether the new scars upon her face had distracted her from it.

She hopes she misses her.

The SkyClanner might see Iciclefang, Fernpaw, and Mosspaw across the river, if she's lucky. She still had a few more days with most of the ThunderClanners and their border, but ShadowClan and WindClan would be cut off entirely once they crossed the boundary back into the familiar. She doesn't worry about Slate and Figfeather, (reluctant) idols of her kithood. It's not like her to think so deeply about what will happen, she finds. Maybe she's thinking about it too much. Still, she can't quite stop the record of autumnal eyes playing in her heart, turning so stubbornly she scarcely believes the song is hers.

Sudden irritation flashes through the glance she gives her mother and Greeneyes. "Dunno, but it's gonna take longer if we just stand here," she says, like she hadn't stopped for the realization too. With a flick of her tail, she strides off with the true loftiness of her old self.​