sensitive topics bad dream — news + return w/ body

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A shuddered breath escaped the warrior, herdin’ the two apprentices with him as he swept past the undergrowth that creaked and swayed as he hurried past. “Almost there.” He muttered, wooly plumage draggin’ with low, heavy pants escapin’ a scarred maw. Damn, this heat. His heart gave way, groanin’ lowly deep within his chest at the loss of another in what felt like a brief span, already dreadin’ the looks that’d sure paint his clanmates features upon hearin’ about Violetnose’s death.

Nearin’ the camp’s entrance, Duskpool nudged Chivepaw forward, lettin’ the younger ones slip through first before crawlin’ through, molten hue scannin’ camp in search of their two medicine cats. A low, guttural rumble broke free, rattlin’ the bramble walls, “Dawnglare! Fireflyglow!” When a haunted hue landed on either, Duskpool sighed, glancin’ at the camp’s only entrance with a heavy heart. “Violetnose.” He began, drawin’ in a steady breath to calm his thrummin’ heart. “She collapsed. She’s with StarClan now.” He finished, mangled ear flat against his helm.

“Doeblaze and Johnnyflame are bringin’ her body.” A poor excuse to get the apprentices out of there, but it ain’t no one’s business.

/ forgot to tag @DAWNGLARE and @Fireflyglow ​

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thought speech​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Doeblaze leads the small, grim procession—Violetnose's front half lies across her lean shoulders, tortoiseshell maw wiped clean of saliva by a careful white paw. Johnnyflame is no more than a pawstep behind her with the rest of the warrior's cooling body, his own face no doubt set in an equally despairing line. Or maybe not—but the tabby can feel the way her own muzzle settles into a stoic, unbroken line of white, one slender fang just digging into her lip, muscle tight in her jaw and eye a flat, steel - cut plane of jade.

This was preventable. Even more than the rash of rogue killings lately, this was so, so preventable. If Violetnose had not been on her own, separated from her patrol—if the sun had not been quite so blazing—if the warrior had just taken a stars - damned break—then she wouldn't be here now, bringing the grim news back to a family already beaten into the soil by loss. There's no use blaming the dead, she reminds herself, you've already done too much of that.

Her pawsteps are weary on the tightly - packed earth of the path back to camp. If it's anyone's fault, it's hers—for hadn't she been the first to stumble upon the body? If she'd just been a little faster—if she'd just gotten there a little sooner—there's no use thinking about it, either. Still, she can't help the way the tired lines under her eye deepen as they near the bramble mouth of camp; usually so welcoming, it looks like a mawful of thorns right now, unwelcoming fangs ready to punch into the softness of her pale underbelly. The way grief will no doubt punch into Violetnose's family—Sangriapaw's frantic pleading with the limp body back at the scene had been testament enough to that. A verdant eye flickers towards the two apprentices, making the miserable journey back with them, and then back forewards as they duck into the camp's mouth.

What's done is done.

" Watch her legs, " she murmurs to Johnnyflame, cringing at the practicality of the sentence. Carefully, mindful of the dead weight of Violetnose's lolling limbs, she crosses to the camp's center and crouches, sliding the warrior's limp body gently onto the sweetly perfumed greenleaf grass for the last time. Her countenance grim, Doeblaze straightens up and crosses to stand by the sturdy, constant presence of Duskpool, torn ears folding back against her skull. There's nothing more to say.

OOC : —

♥︎

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[Johnnyflame]

MY WORLDS ON FIRE, HOW 'BOUT YOURS?
THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT AND I NEVER GET BORED."​

---

For as much good as Skyclan had brought to his life since joining, Johnny had to admit that he’d also seen more death during his time with the clan than without it. It never got easier, but it did become familiar to him after a while, a little less shocking when he knew what to expect. It didn’t stop the frustration though. From the very first time he’d been faced with a dead clanmate, anger had always been the first thing to settle in his gut. Frustration toward a wrong gone unpunished or, t times like these, a far deeper sense of injustice where there was no living thing to place the blame on. There was no cat to curse or fox to hunt down, no dog to sink claws into or even a twoleg to aim his spite at.

There was just life, and the abrupt end it could sometimes come to.

”Aye, I’ve got her.” he assured Doeblaze patiently, leaning down to carefully let Violetnose slide into the soft, sun-warm grass to rest in the safety of her clanmates.

He straightened with a sigh, wondering how a cat younger than he could be dead without having a drop of blood spilled. The sun as cruel to those with longer fur, and he couldn’t help but worry for those whose fur outmatched his own; Florabreeze, Doeblaze, Duskpool, Slate- Silversmoke.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he quickly made his way to Sangriapaws side, pressing against his apprentice's side in an attempt to comfort them. ”I’m sorry, lass. Sometimes Starclan calls us home young. It’s unfair to those left behind, but Violetnose is in a good place. She’s safe, and she’s happy- off on a new adventure with all the family and friends she’s been missing. And you’ll see her again someday, when Starclan calls you home, too.”

OOC- comforting @SANGRIAPAW
[/i]

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[TWITCHBOLT]

Pieces of his past trickled through gaps, dripping like water - memories of childhoos grew hazier, friendships formed there becoming glimmering, constant things rather than thoughts dwelled upon. Violetnose was one such cat, a face he'd seen nestled up against Daisyflight when she'd been a queen of a new SkyClan- who he'd tentatively walked into games alongside, who had been by his side when he'd shuffled from his parents dejectedly. Like her mother, she was a cat he had never fathomed losing ...

And yet. And yet, and yet- the words, they fell out of Duskpool's mouth, and Twitchbolt wanted to rend them in two the moment he heard them- her body. She collapsed, and it wasn't Violetnose they were bringing back. It was her body.

Shaky steps forged forward- he could not look at the faces of Doeblaze nor Johnnyflame- his pupils trembled only upon Violetnose in horrified disbelief. Her rough, encouraging voice- her eyes, sightless but gleaming with passion- darkened a sunspot in his memory, and he flinched in the face of it. Spasms grew severe, uncontrollable. "Stars," he said, choking on the word as it weakly wormed its way out. The tears would come later, he knew- they were always late, weak and cold. They had been with Daisyflight, too. "How ..." But it was a pointless question, and he didn't let himself finish it. Instead, he blinded himself to the world by squeezing wide eyes shut, fighting a surge of heartache. "You came to get her, didn't you?"

The spirit he asked would not answer. She did not need to, for Twitchbolt to know she had.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Oleanderkit]

cw: macabre description of the corpse in 2nd paragraph!

Death is a funny thing. Oleander has not yet seen it first-paw. When Laurel was put against the wall, she had still been a piece of her mama. She knows about him; she knows that he was killed; she had been scolded for the story when she'd made it into a game. But seeing the dead and knowing about them are two different things.

When the body that used to be Violetnose is brought in to camp, Oleander sees it. She does not retch; she does not cry out. Icicle eyes follow the dark shape, the one on Doeblaze and Jonnyflame's backs, and she studies it. It does not breathe. Sometimes her own breathing hitches, but at least her chest expands and contracts, even if in a fit. Its eyes are glassy, blank. Oleander has never seen her own eyes before. Did they look the same? Its limbs loll away from their supports, its tongue peeks from behind its parted blue lips. Would she look like that, someday? Was she dead each time she went limp?

Her colorless gaze flickers over the rest of the patrol now. They all look grim, their faces melting off of them like oil paint. The apprentices in particular wear doleful, teary eyes. Who had Violetnose been to them? A mother? Oleander glances back in to the nursery, searching for Lovage's scarred face, red lips a flat, prim line.

She isn't scared. She isn't sad. She is curious, and she wants to know why this is a big deal to everyone.

Doeblaze and Duskpool stand together opposite her, and admittedly, the girl is intimidated. She instead creeps to @TWITCHBOLT 's side, wide eyes imploring as she stares up at him. "Who are you talking to?" she inquires. Her pink nose runs against her will. Then, a glance to the corpse and back. "Who was that?"

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 02 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[FIGFEATHER]

Spry, energetic and fiery. These things are what Violetnose had been her entire life, yet now she is dragged into camp by her clan-mates with the smell of death perfuming her pelt.

Figfeather’s stomach has dropped to her paws, it churns as a claw plunges itself into her heart and twists. Her breaths grow rapid and short and the forest begins to spin around her.

Her ears listen for an explanation for this, an explanation on why her sister was dead. Duskpool’s ’she collapsed’ answer infuriates her in her state of sudden, overwhelming grief. ”She collapsed?!” She hisses at him, hackles bristling as hot tears swell in her eyes. ”You’re telling me my sister just fell over and… died?!” The word is heavy on her tongue, she barely had the strength to say it, to finalize it.

An adder wraps itself around her throat and squeezes. Shock takes hold of the she-cat’s body and her head becomes light on her shoulders. In her fury, sorrow and disbelief, she looked as if she would fall over.

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[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft's heart sinks as the news reaches her ears, her head poked out of the nursery in alarm. The sight of Violetnose's lifeless body strikes her like a thunderbolt, rooting her in place. It can’t be true. It can’t. Her head begins to shake with disbelief, breath catching in her throat. But as she listens to Duskpool's words, the reality of her sister's death crashes over her in waves and she can’t stop herself from crying out in grief, ears pinned back. She watches Doeblaze and Johnnyflame place her body on the grass, and as she often does she feels helpless. She is unable to move as the scene unfolds before her. They’d already lost Daisyflight and Snowpath. I’ve already lost Dandelionwish. Please, StarClan, don’t take my little sister, too. But as her gaze falls to Violetnose's still form, she knows her kin’s vibrant spirit is gone, her fire now extinguished.

When Figfeather's anguished hiss cuts through the air, Butterflytuft's own sorrow is matched by a fierce need to be there for her. She finally moves, rushing to her sister's side and pressing her cheek against the lead warrior’s. "I can’t believe it," She whispers, her voice trembling as tears begin to cascade down her face. “Sh-she was too young, too full of life." Butterflytuft's teary eyes shift to the gathered cats, her best friend’s pained expression pulling at her heart. With a deep, shuddering breath, she presses close to Figfeather, her heart aching. “I need to…prepare the body,” She sniffles, but her voice is barely even a murmur. If anything, she can at least be there for her sister one final time in doing her duty to make sure she’s presentable for her vigil.


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[SANGRIAPAW]

✧ Body. Corpse. Gone. None of the words is right… not to describe her aunt. Violetnose isn’t supposed to be… dead. There isn’t even any blood, nothing to tell them why the warrior suddenly died like she did. But she hasn’t moved yet, hasn’t breathed. Sangriapaw doesn’t want to face the truth, but… she has to. Tears still track down her face, sniffles escaping her as she walks at Johnnyflame’s side. But crying about it isn’t going to bring her aunt back, isn’t going to fix a connection that’s broken forever.

Stone-faced in her acceptance, the apprentice strides back into camp along with the rest of the procession—it’s a grim experience, marching into the camp with one less cat than they’d left with. Johnnyflame helps to deposit Violetnose, the body, the corpse, onto the ground, and then his attention turns to her. His voice is reassuring, warm and coated in care, as he tries to make her feel better. It’s comforting to know that she’s still around in some capacity, still watching (can she see now?) them all from StarClan. She’ll see her aunt again, just like she’ll get to meet her grandmother someday. It’ll just be… a long time before she does.

"Yeah…" she murmurs, dulled green gaze drifting from her mentor and to the clanmates who have begun to surround Violetnose. Each mourns in their own way, stricken by the news, but few of them matter to the girl. Her yellow-furred parent’s shout of disbelief draws her attention, and it’s through the fog of new tears that the torbie sees the lead warrior’s anger. She’s sad, of course she is, but she’s also mad. She probably feels just like Sangriapaw does. But Butterflytuft moves to comfort Figfeather, and her mentor’s words ring in her ears: It’s unfair.

✧ gliding down the rainbow

• ooc: —
• 
  SANGRIAPAW ❯❯ she/her, daylight apprentice of skyclan
  ⭃ cinnamon torbie with white spotting and vibrant leaf-green eyes. bold, bright, and curious.
  ⭃ daughter of fantastream & figfeather ; sister to coffeepaw
  ⭃ mentored by johnnyflame
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ⭃ penned by foxlore

​

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[Howlfire]

It had been a scorching day so far, even the shade of camp did little to alleviate the warmth Howlfire felt radiating over her body. She had allowed her apprentices to relax for a while in the sun, giving them some less strenuous activities to do before planning on taking them for a dusk hunt.

What little peace she was enjoying was shattered when she heard Duskpool call out for the medicine cats. A curious head pops up, and she spots Duskpool and the cats he had been patrolling with returning to camp, Violetnose spread across their backs. Initially, Howlfire doesn't jump to the worst conclusion, assuming that perhaps Violetnose had merely collapsed from exhaustion as Littlemoon had not so long ago, and she certainly would have expected such in this heat. Instead, it feels as though she has been hit in the face when it was revealed Violetnose was, in fact, deceased. "She's dead!?" Howlfire blurted out in shock, her mouth hanging agog for a moment. Realising how insensitive that sounded, she quickly flashed Violetnose's siblings an apologetic glance, shifting uncomfortably at her little error. "She has gone too soon," Howlfire mewed softly, bowing her head towards Violetnose's still form. "Hopefully, she can live in peace with Daisyflight in StarClan now." They had never been close, least of all when Howlfire had treated Snowpath poorly, but she had never disliked the she-cat. The fact that she was only a little bit older than Howlfire too was even more rattling. Howlfire does not want to intrude on the grief of her family, briefly touches the shoulders of Butterflytuft and Figfeather in passing comfortingly, before giving Twitchbolt a sympathetic nod, knowing he was close to the family as well.

"I'm sorry for your loss," She mewed before slipping away.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

It's another tragedy, marked by the death of someone he had known since kithood. One of Daisyflight's kits, Violetnose was known to be protective of her siblings. Fireflyglow sits at the mouth of the medicine den, listening to the mourning voices of friends and family, his own expression dark with sorrow.

"Tell me when you're ready and I'll get her vigil ready." Fireflyglow calls out, saddened that he couldn't have done anything to help Violetnose. She was a good warrior, a part of his family which he'd become accustomed to.

Who will be next? He asks the stars above, milky blue eyes glittering with emotion.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 24 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

A kitten drifted near him- for a moment, submerged in thought, Twitchbolt did not recognise her. Who- who had let a stranger in their camp? A young stranger, stumbling through ... ghost-pale, and - then, then, he was reminded it was one of Lovage's brood, it was... Oleander. Her tone was wandering, curious - Twitchbolt felt the morbidity of it all shudder through him. "D-Don't - let's step away, Oleander," he murmured, knotted, crooked tail flicking with a beckoning motion.

Wide eyes blinked away the numbness of grief. "I'm- I was talking to Violetnose's mother." It came out of him automatically, the words wavering, his body seizing - unsteady motion rocked him constantly at the best of times. Numbness shuddered through him. Who was that? The coldness there, the frigid curiosity of someone who didn't understand; Twitchbolt's muscles jerked slightly, feeling odd to be explaining it, attempting still to lead Oleanderkit in away. A distance needed to be drawn ... Butterflytuft's duty needed space. "She was ... a loyal, strong warrior. Always helped me stick up for myself as a k-kit. Sss-Someone I've known a long time- Butterflytuft, Greeneyes and Figfeather's sister." A soft sigh left him. It wasn't an in-depth legacy, really. Violetnose deserved someone better to tell her story.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Time seems to slow into a dreadful pace. Her ears hardly comprehend the words Butterflytuft speaks as her sister moves in and presses up against her side. Figfeather looks at her briefly to share a distraught expression.

Aside from cherishing words of Violetnose’s character the clan was silent. Figfeather goes without answer to what happened to her sister, Grief swells in her chest, she feels that her heart might just explode.

Just after Howlfire brushes past Butterflytuft and Figfeather, the red molly looks expectantly to her clan-mates again. ”What happened to her?!” She chokes out, pleading for an answer, an explanation for her sister’s abrupt demise.

​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Seriously?

The thought is so uncharitable is makes her almost physically wince, but it's there and staunch like a thorn in her skull. Cherryblossom loiters in the hotness, squinting shards of citrine through the buzzing air, as the impromptu funeral procession traipses through the bramble tunnel. Duskpool's shuttered, gravelly voice marks their entrance like the low bellow of a horn through the heat-fog. Dawnglare, Fireflyglow. Did they ever get used to their names being synonymous with tragedies? (Why didn't he call her?) "No...no way..." she breathes, her own breath uncomfortably hot against drying teeth.

The deputy moves forwards like a lost wraith, ears bracing for the choked gasps and thready wails at the sight of the body. Violetnose slips from Doeblaze and Johnnyflame's shoulders into the well-trodden grass of SkyClan camp, resting as gracefully as one can amid the dusty footprints of her living clanmates. She looks...alright. Cherryblossom doesn't let her gaze linger on her form for too long: it's sacriledge, maybe, to try and find something in the corpse of someone she rarely knew outside of work anyway.

"She really just...?" Figfeather's and Butterflytuft's and Greeneyes' sister really just...went like that. A warrior; a charge. There was something she was supposed to do about it, should've done about it, should do about it...the thoughts squirm uncomfortably inside her, like her overheated skin trying to worm its way out from beneath her pelt.

Drained yellow eyes feel for Fireflyglow's hulking beige presence in the crowd, searching for an answer beneath scarred eyes, but all he gives the clan is droll tasks. Her gaze sharpens upon him, then. "Fireflyglow, Dawnglare." Their names are harsher in hindsight. "What happened? You have to know." Pressing for an answer wouldn't bring her back, but it might pull others from the brink of it. (It might just be something to do with her useless dry mouth right now.) She stares at them, attempting to look authoratative, but coming off as just desperate. "There was nothing wrong with her─she was healthy─right? Why?"​