camp BLACK HOLE SUN, WON'T YOU COME? ✧ total eclipse

Newleaf has graced the forest with a seasonally warm day. Iciclefang lies in a sunny patch of warm sand, brindled forelegs splayed before her. She stretches, feeling and enjoying the slight tingle in her muscles. Claws sift through the grit beneath her, savoring the sensation. The air is rich with birdsong and kittenish laughter. The tortoiseshell queen, even in repose, keeps one watchful blue eye on the children who scamper about in the dust.

And then—the world begins to dim.

It’s subtle at first, as though a cloud bearing storms has slipped over the sun. Iciclefang frowns and tastes the air. Though it’s somewhat cloudy, there is no sign of rain. She closes her mouth, her lips twisting into a frown as first, the sky darkens—and then a shadow slips it’s way across the sun.

It’s blocked entirely—there’s a circlet of near-ivory light that does not reach RiverClan’s camp. The warmth is extinguished; the air is cool, night-dark, and the fur begins to spike along Iciclefang’s back. She pushes herself to stiffened paws, her fluffed-out tail beginning to lash back and forth. “Kits!” The queen’s voice is a shrill bark. “Kits, come to me—now!

She crouches as though the darkness looms above her, threatening with teeth and claws. And how is she to know that it does not? “StarClan,” she murmurs, and then, a thought flashes across her mind. “Stars—the only time StarClan has showed us something so clearly is… the Gathering…” Her brow furrows. “The lightning strike.

And what could this mean?

WindClan?


  • ooc:
  • DEuJTnr.jpg
  • Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 22 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
    — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Cicadapaw ; previously mentored n/a
    — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
    — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
    — penned by Marquette.

    sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.


 

Twinklekit bites down upon the ear of the kit she play-fights with. Their pelts were dusty from all the kicking and wrestling they’ve done in the dirt, they showed no signs of stopping their fun either. Boundless energy kits seemed to have.

She feels a nip at her leg, another kit has joined the fight. ”Ow! Hey that-“ Twinklekit stops mid-complaint as the world suddenly goes dark. At an instant the tussle is over, the silver she-kit jumps to her paws and allows her entire pelt to bristle. Back arching instinctively to appear more imposing she lets out a defensive hiss to the sky.

Kits! Iciclefang shrills, -come to me!

Even this moment of great fear Twinklekit obeys the call of the queen. With a sprint she makes way for the tri-colored she-cat and dives to hide behind her. If @hazecloud is nearby she will eventually crawl to her, tail tucked in between her legs and terrified. ”…Whats happening?” Twinklekit wails, tears beginning to burn in her eyes.
  • » Twinklekit
    » RiverClan Kit
    » She/her . AFAB
    » A pretty blue lynx sepia with blue eyes
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A meager kitten, defeating her is no boastful feat.
    » Excels in hiding, running from danger.
    » Fights defensively to survive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

Tigersplash is young, she hasn’t seen many many things - it frightens her seeing the older warriors react with terror and unease. She’s heard of omens, of Starclan moving the clouds to show their distaste and of the lightning strike during a gathering at fourtrees when she was still a kit. This wasn’t like anything she’s seen, the sky goes dark so suddenly and the second she cast her eyes up it’s unbearably bright. A yelp of a meow leaves her, her eyes clench close watering her head shaking as if to get rid of the dark blots that covered her vision for a too long moment when she opens them. "Don’t look up! It’s too bright!" she warns her yowl ordering its way specifically to the nursery, her eyes still burn and she keeps her head ducked.

Her heart is pumping, she normally was able to stomach past any anxiety she bore. She wasn’t easy to startle, but she’s scared today scared of this unknown. She pushes herself forward regardless she needs to make sure her clanmates are safe that they’re in camp - she needs to make sure her littermates are safe. "Foxtail! Hawkcloud!" she calls out for them, it was her responsibility to make sure they were safe and okay.

Hopefully this darkness would pass - she hopes Moonpaw could decipher this if it was a warning from Starclan.

 
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 The day is normal, bright and sunny as Crabkit watches Twinklekit wrestle around with another kit. He merely observes the two for a few moments before dashing forth, nipping at the she-kit’s leg. She complains, but he’s already gone, a michievous grin on his pale muzzle as he turns and darts away from his unsuspecting playmate. He’s having fun, happiness clear in each of his motions—

Until the sky goes dark. It’s like when the sun sets at night, except when he looks up at it, he can still see the sun. It’s just… covered up? He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but when his mother cans for the kits to go to her, the little tom compiles as quickly as his paws will let him. "Mama!" He cries out, shrinking to hide beneath the calico queen as best he can. He can sense her panic, and it makes tears well up in his eyes as well. "Mama, what’s—what’s happening? What’s eating the sun??" She says something about StarClan, but why would StarClan do this? Why would anything make the daytime so dark?
 
-`♡´- Snow Explosion (Snowkit) is locked in ferocious combat with the Evil Queen Of The Crabby Cats (Twinklekit) as he battles for the honor of his family and clan and probably cat-kind as a whole, rolling around in the dirt and pit-pattering paws at her enemy.

She bites at his ear and he yelps, "Ow!!!" but sees another kitten coming to join them. "Here comes the sneak attack!" she shrieks with delight as Crabkit hops in to battle alongside her.

The sky has suddenly darkened, and Snowkit's fur has gone cold. The kittens all seem to know something is happening, but they don't know what. Iciclefang shouts for them to come to her and Snowkit shoots up to scamper over.

Her eyes are already welling with tears at the sound of fear in her aunt's voice.

Snowkit tucks up to press fluffed up tortoiseshell fur against Iciclefang's own and stares at her face, trying to make sense of her reaction. "Auntie..! What's going on, why are you scared?" He's never heard Iciclefang sound so scared before...

  • OOC:
  • u4cshb.png
  • snowkit, kitten of riverclan!
    — he/him & she/her. OK w gendered terms! 2 moons old!
    lilybloom x lakemoon. graykit's littermate !
    — a fluffy blue tortie w white & warm brown eyes
    — a happy, boisterous kitten with a big imagination
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    — fullbody by jay , pfp by lovette, funnyguy by pin
    — penned by eezy
 
ISalmon had just recently returned to camp, @RIVERPAW in tow, to give him a break from the harsh sun and to fill their stomachs. "I'll come grab you soon," she instructs, her tail waving behind her in an idle motion. She was excited to dig in to some fish when all of the sudden the world goes dark. Her heart drops in to her stomach immediately, blue eyes widening in shock. The noise of the world seems to fall silent all at once.

Salmonshade, in a rare show of panic, sweeps her tail around her apprentice in a protective manner, beginning to usher him towards the nearest cover. Iciclefangs shrill bark commands the kits to gather near her. Where's Moonpaw? Wheres Lichentail, Hazecloud, Snakeblink? Where are her friends? Are they okay? "Come, come, we're going to the warriors den until this is over."

Don't look up, Tigersplash warns and she is... both frustrated and glad someone said something about it. It's too bright! "Moonpaw- Someone get Moonpaw!" Salmonshade calls out to no one in particular. Is she okay? Please, let her be okay. Would she know what to do? The clan seems to draw in a breath that is held. Moonpaw is only an apprentice, this is such a big thing to put on her shoulders...

In all thirty eight moons of living, Salmonshade had not seen something like this, and the chill that begins to fill the air without the sun seeps in to her bones. Oh, Starclan, what did we do?

  • 70831649_t0YE8lpgGiTPlyS.png
    salmon ,, salmonshade
    cis female ,, she/her ,, 38 months
    warrior of riverclan ,, mentoring riverpaw
    fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with white, blue eyes
    "speech, ff91a4" ,, thoughts
    lesbian ,, single
    smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
    chibi by pin ,, penned by chuff
 

shellkit is allowed just outside the nursery with moonpaw’s help ; positioned back where no one else is supposed to venture, where the air smells sharp of water lillies and coriander. a small path of shore where it’s crisp and cool, a remedy on her rattling lungs. the waters were angry today ; from the early morning she notices how it sloshes noisily against the corroded sand, lapping where shellkit was most certainly not allowed for worry of worsening her symptoms. she listens closely to listen, to eavesdrop on the babbling waters but there’s no use — it speaks only in hushed breaths, a taunting whisper at the edge of the shore.

there is a pink - blue sheen of sun glistening beneath the river foam, tempting her with pebbles and bobbles lying just beneath whenever the light catches. it’s her favorite color, and there isn’t much else to do in this state ( that wouldn’t get her shouted at ), and so she simply stares ; casts bloodlet eyes out over the tumultuous waters until the slow - moving lines blur. at first, she doesn’t notice ; the water dims from a soft pink to a ruddier russet shade at some point, shellkit notices how dark it had gotten. there is a commotion in the innermost part of camp and slowly, slowly, shellkit hobbles into an unsteady upward heave. her head spins with it, but she sniffs, tilting her head back and there. there.

a sanguine halo encompasses slowly over where the sun burns beyond the willows ; she squints, looks away, tries to look again by angling her head into the shadows and through glimpses, she can see it. a great, black hole — it swallows the suns golden light until they are plunged into a murky darkness. a feral sort of loneliness encompasses her. a horrid sense of panic, a quick scrabbling of paws towards the medicine den with tears in rheumy eyes, breath labored and sticky with exertion because she was alone in here, she was alone. hazecloud and the babies were in the nursery, riverpaw and pebblepaw were in the apprentice den or out with their mentors. she would be by herself in this nest until.. until.. until what? the sun was gone. her eyes fight to adjust to the darkness when a flash of white jogs her mind from its panic. it quickens her breath to a labored gasp with every step she takes before wailing a frail, ” moonpaw, what’s happening! “ because moonpaw was here, and the stars spoke to moonpaw. her voice warbles desperately, fishbone body trembling in a semi - crouch. her pupils dilate against the harsh and sudden shadows, chest heaving as she makes herself small and pants a hollow, strangely melodic rasp of, ” somethings.. somethings swallowing the sun. it’s gone, it’s all gone from the sky, moonpaw — what do we do?

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  • i.

  • 75178334_B2nz6qRU6QTC3MQ.png

  • SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. SIX MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS -------------------------------------------- ° ❀ ⋆
    frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
    78128298_wohFIHxKbNARetE.png
    she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush in a way seemingly similar to hazecloud's. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
    currently HIGHLY INFECTIOUS WITH WHITECOUGH. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.
 
—————————————————————⊰★⊱————————————————————

Shadows fall over the once warm and sunny camp, scatter like swills of ink across the pebbled shoreline of the river and the gritty sand around the edges of dens. It looms and lurches as though cast from some giant and his hair rises on end as he ambles forward with that one amber eye wide. What was happening? Smokestar's head lifts, kittens run squealing back to the nursery, Moonpaw's name is cried out like a prayer for sancturary, in the chaos of cats yowling in fear, confusion and uncertainty he tilts his chin. The sun is gone.
Swallowed in darkness, a black disc as if a hole of where it once rested filling the sky and rimmed in smoldering cinders - fire burnt out. His nose wrinkles, his teeth bare at a non-existent foe. He hears Iciclefang's quietly uttered words - contempt rising like bile in his throat. WindClan. The sun blocked out, an occurence he had never even known could happen and yet here it was, plain as day. There was no certain a sign for what he had always known as this. Sunstar. WindClan. The one clan StarClan had nearly severed from its body, a warning that the moorland cats were still not to be trusted. Surely that had to be it.
"Calm down! Everyone calm down!" Tone proud and smooth despite his own unease making him tremble slightly where he stood in cold shade, he would dismiss it as the warmth taken and not a fear creeping through his veins. "Kittens back in the nursery. No one leaves camp until we figure out whats going on." Hopefully those outside would return swiftly.
He turns, dark tail lifted high, feigning confidence he did not have, and he moved to the reeds of the medicine cat den with muffled urgency in his tone, "Moonpaw."

  • OOC can go here.

  • 57913530_r2t3y4lghl4FDra.png
    Smokestar
    —⊰⋅ Leader of RiverClan
    —⊰⋅ He/Him
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ Black tom w/vitiligo & one orange eye.

 

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✦ ˚  ✧ ˚ .˚ ✦  ✦
  • Consistency is in the running mouth of the creeks... in the shifting of grass blades under-paw, in the smell of herbs and flowers from the medicine cat's den... In familiar scents and touches of assured affections both platonic and romantic. It is in the count of nests in each den. In the steady pace of the seasons in their neat, cyclical uniformity.

    The amount of days she'd roamed the expanses of territories lost to time and remembrance were far greater than any cat could count- the gray deputy recognized that she neared another full cycle, that her closeness to her youth drifted ever further and she thought- hoped- she had seen enough that life could not surprise her anymore.

    Hoped.

    A healthy coat of jet-black ink washes like a well over-run through the sky, steals the color from the trees, the rivers, bleeds the sun of its warmth and light- urgency finds fog-drenched paws moving towards the camp where chaos rings in juxtaposition of the creeping silence of the territory.

    Smokestar slides easily to the front of attention, demands calm with a voice that rushes like stormy winds then drifts towards the medicine cat's den- Shellkit looks so small as she slithers back into the safety of that den and in a moment of stubbornness, she leaves Hazecloud to their youngest in favor of hearing what Moonpaw might say... and offer that frail bubble-breathed girl some consolation she would not die with the sun's vanishing.

    The last time their ancestors had been this furious... "The stars are not angry with us, I assume," she rasps, pressing dangling leaves aside to follow after Smokestar, eyes trailing to find a warbling songbird that begs at Moonpaw's feet for understanding, for clarity.

    "You'll start choking again- calm down, little lamb..." She probably had no idea what those even were... had not been allowed to leave camp to see them wandering through RiverClan's territory (lost, probably) but hopefully that would be a distraction in its own way.
  • about
    speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
    ooc notes ✦
    tagging ✶ interacting with shellkit, moonpaw, kinda sorta smokestar?
    penned by tieirlys
  • ˚  ★⋆. ࿐࿔  ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     .
       .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .   ✦   .  .   ˚       ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦  ˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
       .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .             ✦  
 

Don't look up.

It's impossible not to look when something so amazing, so unheard of happens - something that causes anxiety to ripple through the RiverClan camp like the water surrounding it, and that's exactly what she does, eyes meeting the thin halo left of sunlight in the sky. Quickly, unintentionally, she turns her face away with tearful green eyes, stinging from the extraordinary brightness, the only sign left of the sun that stood out against the sky, now inky black despite the fact that it had been mere moments ago that there had been warmth and light and singing birds. Everyone is so scared - should she be scared, too? Should she run? More or less cemented to her spot, she looks around bewildered with eyes as round as the moon, uncertain of what to do next. "We - we hafta get the sun back! We gotta go get it back!" She cries finally, black and white fur puffed out to match the fearful body language of her clanmates.


"speech"​
 

The day started off as any other, clan mates working together to bring food back and patrol the borders. It was nothing that Moonpaw. wedded to go out for, and so she had stayed back in camp to listen to Shellkit’s breathing, to make sure Valepaw was okay. Both ailments so different for each but similar in the way she’d never seen them before, and so though she was trusted and expected to heal she was worried that she’d done something wrong somehow and chose to stay within her den near the two, watching and listening.

It didn’t take long before the listening of the two within her care turned to listening of those outside her den, yelling for kits to get in the nursery, for her attention. It caused a pit to form within her stomach before she saw Shellkit - small fragile Shellkit - move to look and quickly the white moggie followed, quicker she moved when she heard Shellkit too call her name, ready to usher the kin of Smokestar back into the medicine den before she broke through moss and realize that it was dark. So many were looking towards the sky and so too did Moonpaw follow before breath caught in throat and quickly she looked away and down. ”We need to get back inside.” Quietly she’d speak to Shellkit, head moving down so that she could touch the top of the other’s head before trying to usher her back into the den. Maw opened to try and comfort the other as she asked what to do but quickly snapped shut when the rustling of moss and reed followed by her name once more spoken caused her to turn around.

She was thankful then that Lichentail followed and spoke to Shellkit and quietly eyes would move to Smokestar. ”I saw.” Words were spoken quietly so that only those within the medicine den could hear, not wanting prying ears to hear information that they might not need, a sign from StarClan that might be interpreted wrong as she’d only done this once before, and though it was part of her role within RiverClan she knew that there was no way to practice for these. ”It has to be WindClan now that Sunstar is leading the moors. But whether it is warning of what is to come or an instruction of what we must do I don’t know. Maybe it’s both.” A warning that WindClan is coming to wipe out the clans, unchanged in their promise of good will and that their ways of Sootstar were behind them, or that whoever saw this sign were to wipe out Sunstar themselves, take him as StarClan did the sun.
  • -- mobile post, sorry for any typos
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    MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
    FLESH WOUNDS
    ꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
    ACHES & PAINS
    ꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
    ꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
    ꕥꕥ KITTING
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
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    SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
    speaks softly & often found humming
    11 moons old; ages the 17th every month
    homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
    currently being mentored by ravensong
    easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 

Claythorn had not been rose underneath the guidance of Starclan- not at first. Born to a rogue mother, who returned to kill Riverclan apprentices, abandoned by her to the wilds. Taken in by the Colony, the flood, then Riverclan, introduced into a solid and unwielding belief in this belief of a being high above. She had no choice but to believe it, after all. She had witnessed Smokestar's life returning to him, a gasping of breathe after other former colony members had murdered him.

So when the sky darkened, kit and queen screams, panic flooding camp, Claythorn's eyes narrowed forward. She didn't look up, at the command of other cat's shouts. They begged for Moonpaw's interpretation. Mismatched eyes shifted towards the medicine den as she ushered Shellkit back in, Lichentail and Smokestar following her in. Claythrown exhaled, pushing to her paws. Jaws grasped a piece of freshkill, a mossball rolled swiftly to the nursery. She pushed her head into the den.

"I brought a piece of prey, for any of those hungry. And.. a mossball." For the unnerving situation, Claythorn sounded incredibly dull. Of course she was scared, but there was no point in screaming or crying about it. She had made peace with death before- if this was the end, or an omen? There was nothing she could do about it. No amount of screaming could seal her fate in the end.
  • "speech"
    tl;dr: she brought food and a game to be entertained with to the nursery
  • CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, eleven moons.
    LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
    mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
    no current love interest / / only child
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
Today was supposed to be a good day; it was supposed to be like any other day. He had been padding towards the camp entrance with his apprentice in tow; they were to head over to beech copse. But before they could even make it out of camp, the cloudy sky began to turn dark. Foxtail freezes as the sky turns seemingly into night; fur bristling as he finds himself staring up into the sky. "W-what's happening?" He finds himself mewing out loud, limbs trembling. Where did the sun go? Foxtail might not be as well versed regarding StarClan— he is no medicine cat. But he still has a connection to their ancestors, and he knows StarClan gives signs in the sky. Like covering the moon with clouds during a gathering. Or a lightning strike; he wasn't there to witness this, as he only heard stories about it as a kit. ...What could this possibly mean— the sun being blocked out? Was StarClan trying to tell them something?

His ears prick up at crickets singing their nightly songs, and he notices how the birds have quieted down. But it quickly becomes difficult to listen to how his surroundings seemingly adjusted to the dark sky; as panic ensues around them. "G-go find your siblings!" He tells his apprentice, knowing he must be as scared and confused as he is. ...If this is a horrible sign from StarClan, Pebblepaw should be with his litermates. Forget the training session! "Don't look up! It's too bright!" His older sister yowls, his head snapping in the direction of her voice. He already looked up at the sky; but he couldn't dare to look up at the blocked sun again. It's terrifying— they're all used to the sky turning dark when it's cloudy, especially when it's about to storm. But these aren't storm clouds— this darkness feels different. She cries out his name and Hawkcloud's, and he yowls back. "I'm right here!" He runs over to her, ears pinned back. "W-where is Hawkcloud? ...Have you seen her?"


  • 76983326_NimpdpqQcHTVZW3.png


    credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  • Foxtail
    warrior
    warmhearted
    timid
    experience: trained
    backstory: tbd
    biography: [HYPERLINK]
    credit to sixbane for the minis & tropics for the icon <3
    cisgender male [he / him]
    eyes: green
    pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
    fur length: long
    parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
    18 moons


 

The warmth of the sun blankets mottled fur as Robinheart naps near the nursery. She is soothed by the babbling of river water and kitten laughter that fills the air. The background noise tinges gentle dreams of a future not too far off, where her own kits will tumble and play with each other.

But then the warmth departs from her multicolored pelt and citrine eyes crack open. Surely she hasn’t napped until nightfall? Iciclefang’s words fully rouse Robinheart from her rest, pushing herself to her paws as she casts her gaze across inky camp where many have stopped in their tracks. Panic perfumes the air, wrapping skeletal fingers around her quickened heart. Some call for Moonpaw. Some call for the kittens to get to safety. Kits heed the queen’s call and rush to the nursery. Well - most of them. Robinheart, in her startled state, spots Tadpolekit unmoving and steps over to the black and white child. “StarClan is just s-sending a message. I’m sure the sun will return once all have seen the message,” Robinheart tells Tadpolekit, quite possibly lying through her teeth but hoping to calm the kitten regardless. “Come, let’s go to the nursery,” she further instructs, aiming to gently guide her to safety.

Before entering the nursery, Robinheart does look back out at the gathered cats, searching for stone blue fur and grassy green eyes. She doesn’t know if she is being sought after much the same, but deep down she hopes so. Please be safe, Brookstorm.
[ penned by kerms ]
 
Shadows washes over camp, stealing the colors from trees to the river. Bleeds the sun of it's warmth against his feathery back, where he was lounging half underneath some shade. Letting out a small mrrp in confusion from his throat, from the sudden yowls and screaming chaos near. He cracked opened an eye, lifting his head up then craning his neck to study his panicking clanmates. The sky?

The chimera trails heterochromatic eyes up towards the blasted sun. He squints, looks down, then steals glimpses with a gasp leaving him. "What..?" His eyes widen for a fraction in disbelief at the sun being swallowed up, with only its golden rays peeking out. He's confused. A feathered ear flicks as he hears Smokestar try to calm down his clanmates. A sick feeling bubbles up in his stomach, Fogshore raises onto his paws his expression a neutral one. Oh, Stars. He lets out a soft sigh, at he heard other cat’s shouts. Begging for Moonpaw's own interpretation at this strange development. Long plumed tail twitched against the ground, as he glided towards the warrior's den on light pawsteps. He is not going to panic out here, he is most certainly not. He casts his gaze across the inky touched camp, feeling the perfume of panic in the air. He shivers at the uneasiness, fur rising on end. "I hope Starclan is giving us a good message. Not a bad one." He says to no one in particular, before entering the Warrior’s den and doesn't look back at the gathered cats.
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  •  
  • no ref yet </3
  • ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ ( night swimming is calming, no? ) FOGSHORE.
    𓇼 non-binary ; HE / HIM, okay with gendered terms ; 32 MOONS & AGES EVERY 16TH.
    𓇼 warrior of riverclan | formerly a loner, kittypet
    𓇼 single / bisexual / not looking/"looking" / open to crushes & romance
    𓇼 a LH blue smoke & SH white chimera with amber sectoral eyes and yellow sectoral heterochromia
    𓇼 battle notesthoughts ; "Speech, acb1d6" ; attacks only
    𓇼 may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    𓇼 smells like freshly baked cinnamon buns & distant rain
    ic notes: has light sensitive eyes, tilts head towards the ground. tends to squint in the sunlight, sticks to shaded areas.
    — all opinions are ic

    biography / @ on discord for plots
    — penned by calzone
 
The cries of dismay and panic resound throughout the camp. Iciclefang tucks her tail around Crabkit and Snowkit as Twinklekit slinks off to find her own mother. She lowers her muzzle to first her son, and then her sister’s child, pressing her nose into plush fur and inhaling their separate scents to slow the quick staccato beat of her heart. Crabkit asks tearfully what’s eating the sun, and she has to tell him the truth: “I don’t know, Crabkit.” Her breath as she then turns her blue gaze to Snowkit, who asks her why she’s so scared. The tortoiseshell queen murmurs, “This has never happened before.

Smokestar strides into the clearing and, with startling calm, orders everyone to cease their panic. Iciclefang catches the amber glow of his eye and wonders—are they thinking the same thing? Are they both remembering lightning shivering through the air, leaving a blackened spot against the Great Rock? Lichentail follows him into Moonpaw’s den, and Iciclefang watches them go, trying to steady her breathing.

It seems the darkness is not dangerous—though it’s fearsome and oppressive. She watches Claythorn enter the nursery with prey, with moss, and gently nudges the kittens in her care forward. “You should have a bite to eat. Nothing will happen to us,” she says, wishing she feels as self-assured as she sounds. Robinheart goes to comfort little Tadpolekit, assuring her that it’s only a sign from StarClan.

Distantly, she hears Fogshore mutter that he hopes it’s a good sign.

I fear no good can come of it,” she whispers to herself.


  • ooc:
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  • Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 22 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
    — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Cicadapaw ; previously mentored n/a
    — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
    — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
    — penned by Marquette.

    sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.


 

✧ . There’s a comfort in newleaf that Gillsight will always be grateful for. Its beauty calls for the end of a season of mourning in the form of warm waters and pastel blossoms, a farewell to tragedy much needed in life renewed.

The weather is near perfect today as the warrior heads toward the camp’s exit. He’s busy now — about to head out on a hunting patrol — but as he takes in the warm air, Gillsight silently plans to take a swim after he’s made his day’s contribution to the fresh-kill pile. He’s grateful for days like this, for ones where he can finish his duties early and spend the rest of it doing whatever he pleases.

His plans change as he nears the edge of camp, as the sky turns before his eyes, from daylight-blue to the shade of night. Sunlit eyes widen at the shift, short fur standing on edge as leafbare’s chill returns to RiverClan.

Wh-What…? “ Gillsight stammers out, eyes darting to the sky, to a sun no more — instead a white iris shrunken by a pupil blown wide, as if just as frightened as he is, as they all are. “ Wh-What is th-that…?

Panic fills the camp, shouts to find one’s kin. Clearsight and Clayfur’s name would’ve fallen from his mouth just the same, but instead it’s them who have cast this over their heads. For what reason, the warrior doesn’t know, but with a sign displayed in such grandeur, he fears what StarClan tries to tell them.

C-Come o-on, “ he says to the nearest patrol-mates at Smokestar’s orders, ushering them back into camp and toward the shelter of the warrior’s den instead. It’ll be must safer here, he hopes, for however long StarClan’s message is held above them. ​
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    GILLSIGHT AMAB. He / Him. Warrior of RiverClan.
    ✧ . A scarred, black and white tom with yellow eyes.
    ✧ . NPC x Urchin
    ✧ . Mentored by Clearsight
    ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
    ✧ . Penned by Abri@_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
    ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
 

his sister's voice was as sharp and quick as her name- it did not take long for Ferngill to follow her eye, green settling upon the sky. The sun had a fissure within it- his shock was not hidden, jaw dropping completely, as darkness suddenly enveloped all. His throat felt like it was thickening, hitching his breath on its edges; it was like the cave, all over again. Like the closing of the walls, the tumbling rocks- a slash in his sister's side, on Lightstrike's face, and the cloying scent of blood in the air.

For once, this was not a darkness Ferngill could smile thorough. It was too sudeen, too much, too- familiar. Muscles tensing, he backed away- a panicked eye seived through the throng to try and catch a glimpse of his mate's dark pelt. "Sable- Sablemist!" he called, unable to (as much as he had wanted to) shake the quavering fear from his voice. His sister was safe, his kin was safe- they'd been ferried back into the den, but Sablemist, where was she? If this was some warning, or... something as bad as being trapped in a cave, he needed to know that she was alright, unharmed.

\ @Sablemist husband meltdown
penned by pin
 

The domino molly had been out on a walk to retrieve a bundle of flowers for her and Ferngill's nest. She hoped to brighten their shared space with an assortment of fresh blossoms to replace the dried ones that have long since faded. Lillies and purple lupine lay clamp carefully between her jaws when a sudden darkness swallowed the land. Faltering in her step Sablemist glanced up, blue gaze widening at the sun struggling to burn beneath a darkened mass. "Oh starclan..." She whispered as vibrant blooms fall from her maw and unto the ground below, forgotten.

The shrieks and cries from camp catch her ears, tearing her attention back to the present as she darted through the entrance. Smokestar calls for many to calm while Moonpaw assesses what Sablemist could only deem some kind of divine sign. Although gravely worried about the severity of the situation none of it mattered when she heard the crack of fear in her mate's voice. Her paws lurched in time with her heart, moving to his side as quickly as she could manage. "I'm here Ferngill." The shadow reassured butting her head against his own. "It's okay." It was absurd for her to promise such a thing but she brazenly spoke the words regardless. Would things really be okay?

≖≖ riverclan warrior / eighteen moons old / she/her ≖≖
 
MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Panic spreads through camp like ripples on the smooth surface of a pond, in hurried whispers and shrill cries. Kits are gathered in the protective embrace of queens; warriors huddle together; Smokestar brings some method to the madness with the snap of quick orders. It feels, for this strange and weightless moment, like the world is teetering on the edge of some stars-mandated ending.

Uncharacteristically, the panic does not touch Snakeblink as keenly. Darkness falling like rain on camp has left him nearly as blind as he would be at night, and he struggles to adapt to the change of light – but intense anxiety and confusion leave him numb rather than frantic, and he stares unblinkingly at the thin circle of hazy light that used to be the sun for a moment. He lets Gillsight herd him back within camp, half-blind but still darting his eyes from one clan mate to the next, trying to match shadowed faces to panicked voices, taking stocks of who's here, safe in camp – as safe as can be, considering.

His apprentice is nowhere to be seen, which isn't saying much, as he isn't seeing much. @turtlepaw ?” He calls, voice dim, distant. A shiver runs down the whole length of his spine, making the tip of his tail jitter, but he only feels it in a remote way, as if it were happening to someone else, as if he were standing outside of his body. ”Stay close– if something happens–” There is nothing he or anyone can do about the sun going out; but he feels cold, standing alone in the unnatural darkness, and she is the one clan mate of his he could reasonably gather close and pretend to keep safe.

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely
  • bro's gonna go blind
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    Snakeblink • he / him. 51 ☾, riverclan warrior
    — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
    — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo