private ashes to ashes, dust to dust

The spots started appearing when he was around five or six moons old, he didn't know what to make of them at first. They were hard to see blended into his dark fur but eventually the spots grew and spread like a stain until they were quite visible. He'd had no one to turn to then, it wasn't until some time later that he met Moss and moved into the marsh colony area where they mostly kept to themselves and she taught him to survive but even she didn't know what the white marks on his pelt were. Ember considered asking Beesong, after all, wasn't he a medicine cat now chosen by StarClan? Surely he'd know but the spotting didn't hurt him so he hadn't really pressed the issue. He was getting older and the spots were becoming more prominent, but they didn't cause him any harm. Ember had sort of just settled on not caring about them, but he wondered if it would ever stop or if he would someday be a solid white cat instead; it was the only thing that annoyed him about it. Being dark as he was made keeping to the shadows and stalking prey more easier than if he was a great white burst of color in an otherwise dark and eathen territory. He might blend in with the froth of the river then or perhaps he would consider leaving to move to the mountains where the snow would be the perfect camolflauge. The dark tom purred in amusement to himself at it all, he'd never leave this territory.
While he and Moss had not been too engaged with the others around them, nor did he even speak to anyone after her death, this was his home. The black cat paused his musings to glance upward, it was getting dark but not quite dusk yet-though the faint pinprick of stars were beginning to bleed through the sky. Well, they would see how it went wouldn't they?
Ember lashed his tail with a sigh before laying his head back down on his paws near the edge of the camp area.


riverclan --- warrior--- tags

it's a long way forward, so trust in me

Ash pads forward, hesitant, little orange pawsteps curious but uncertain. Ember lies at the edge of camp, close to the river that surrounds their little island. It's getting late, and Ash knows her mama will want her close by soon-- will call her to their shared nest and curl around her.

But for now, she's free to run and play under the twilight sky. StarClan is keeping her safe, Ash thinks as she rolls around and explores near the edge, undeterred by the growing darkness. And she's in RiverClan, surrounded by big strong warriors.

She approaches Ember now with a slowed gait, head cocked in curiosity. He seems upset.

His white spots look like stars dotted across his midnight fur. Ash purrs in excitement as she scampers closer. "Ya know, you look like the sky," she says in lieu of a greeting. Ash isn't really the type to stop and introduce herself, especially when she's got something to say. "It looks like StarClan painted you all over! I've never seen a cat with spots like yours." Cicadastar has silvery-white in his black locks, and Pumpkin's all spotted, but Ember looks different than either of them. They aren't tabby markings either, like hers or her mama's.

"If you have babies will they look like you? If they do you should name them all Starkit."

Ash nods firmly, impressed by her own cleverness. Really, she has the best ideas.

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

  • ooc text goes here
  • - three moons old
    - will bite you
    - will put nettles in your nest
    - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
    - she's trying her best, i swear

From the mouth of kits came surprises, he often found. His interactions with the youth of the colony and now the clan were limited in scope because he simple was not sure how to properly talk to them but the few times he did they had quite the things to say and Ash was no different. Though there was something achingly poetic about the little she-kits remark, so much so that it actually had him lifting his head in surprise as she toddled forward with her declarations and continued on without pause. The little kit wasn't shy at all, his stunned silence only lasted so long as the mention of him ever having kits came up and his cheeks puffed up in brief alarm to stifle the immediate laugh he wanted to give in response.
Him? With kits? Now there was a funny joke if he ever heard one. That would imply someone had tolerated him and his company long enough to even make them. He wouldn't lie and say he was particularly good company.
"The sky was it?" The tom asked, drawing back to the kitten's initial comment and he raised a paw to examine the white dipped toes that were only present on his right leg. Suppose he could see it, somewhat. White speckles across a black canvas-the night sky covered in stars. It was a very flattering image of himself and perhaps, funnily, the first compliment he'd ever gotten-and it came from a kit. Life was funny sometimes.
"I think I'd be okay being compared to the sky." As for never seeing spots like his before-Ash and him both. He'd never met another cat with the odd white speckling that they weren't born with and didn't change. He'd been solid black as a kit-never heard of cats getting white spots before.
Shaking his head the large tom glanced upward briefly, "Starkit is a nice name, but I feel star might be something we should just let our leaders use so we know who is in charge, yes?" It felt strangely blasphemous didn't it? If StarClan used Star to denote the rulers of the clans, using it for anything else was surely going to confuse things. "Anyways, I don't know if my spots are something I can pass down." He really didn't-did his mother have spots? Did his father? Didn't remember either of them enough to be able to know or even guess. Suppose he'd never know. "Isn't it getting late, shouldn't you be with your mother?"

riverclan --- warrior--- tags