BRIGHT BLUE EYES [☾] Cottonpaw

[SOOTSTAR]

Sootstar ducks underneath the gorse, the pungent herbal scent of the den flooding her nose. Wounded cats laid across the floor, many of them wearing cobweb bandaging or chewed up poultices. The paw-work of Cottonpaw, now healing the clan of their ailments without Wolfsong to guide her. She feels her brows furrow at the thought of the rosette tom, why was it that even through her anger she mourns he is no longer of WindClan? Sootstar grieves for him, for Sunstride, Bluepool, and Scorchstreak. Her heart throbs at the loss of the cats she had thought backed her, how were cats she had known for so many moons- all her life so quick to turn into strangers?

She straightens her posture, she will get through this. Eventually they will be of the past, she’ll find new cats, she’ll forget about them.

But how do you forget about traitor sisters and one of your own daughters?

Repressing a shudder she carefully treads past the patients until she reaches Cottonpaw. She sorted herbs quietly as Sootstar clears her throat to alert the blue medicine cat of her presence.

”Cottonpaw.” She meows, an unusual warmth to her tone. Perhaps she addresses Cottonpaw as a mother instead of her leader. ”You’ve stepped up when the clan has needed you most, I am grateful.” She signals to the wounded scattered across the den, all slowly on the mend thanks to her efforts.

Sootstar goes silent for several long moments, her eyes dancing around the den and her lips pursed. Something was on the tip of her tongue, that’d be clear to Cottonpaw.

Finally she speaks, ”I fear you may have to come face-to-face with Wolfsong someday. Not as his apprentice, but as his enemy. You know as well as I do Sunstride and his rebels will be back.” She begins, keeping careful watch of Cottonpaw’s body language. ”That includes Moorblossom… do you have what it takes to fight her for the sake of your clan? To kill her if nescisarry?” ’And it will be nescisarry.’ Sootstar thinks as a coldness clouds her eyes.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• >> @cottonpaw
• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw wastes too much of her time sorting and resorting again. With Wolfsong around, he'd make a lesson out of every removed herb, every parted leaf-from-stem, every drying petal. She feels as if he lingers still, hanging over her shoulder, reminding her that dandelions and daisies should not be placed into the same pile for one reason or another. Her den is filled with cats ailed by different lacerations, aching paws, and some simply awaiting check ups for their pregnant bellies (she's petrified of delivering her first litter alone. Odd, since moons ago she was eager to help.)

Her ears fold back as she tries to discern whether an herb is good enough to keep, when her mother summons her. The warmth does not go unnoticed and whilst Cottonpaw has hardly ever feared her mother for who she was, she cannot help the itching beneath her pelt. She's gotten so used to the near transactional nature of their relationship - of knowing that she was not Sootstar's star child, and that working in this position is the best that she's got - that experiencing a mother in the other is... odd. She feels like a kitten again. She's hardly noticed how she stands just as tall as her mother now.

"It's my duty," she expresses easily, quickly. Herbs are not discarded but her paws do not fidget with them. Sootstar's silence garners the undying curiosity born in Cottonpaw, and she waits patiently for her mother's request, offer, suggestion - something. And she does. At first, simple but true statements. Sootstar watches her how Bluefrost did before and she cannot hide the subtle shake of her eyes. She attempts to convince herself that the tremble of fear is less about confronting those she does not feel offence against, and instead fear that she is not capable.

"And you, Bluepool? Mintshade?" she brings up her aunts, saying their names pains her chest but there is a spark of venom on her tongue. She does not know who its for. "I'll... I'll do my best to protect my home, Sootstar. I'll do what I must - it's my duty," her words repeat again. The idea of slaying her black furred sister hurts her just as she figures the same does for her mother. She just hopes that that is enough.​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

’It’s my duty.’ Sootstar’s brow furrows, she can only hope that is all Cottonpaw needed to stay true to her mother. Sunstride’s duty had been to her, so had Wolfsong and the many medicine cats and lead warriors who had come before them. Feast upon the ranks of WindClan now, how many had remained true to her? Weaselclaw? Tigerfrost? Duskfire? Long departed allies she could only yearn for, when they died they had left her with nothing.

Sootstar’s ears tilt forward at the names of her sister’s, a visible look of betrayal flashing through her eyes. She recalls playing with them in the mud on warm nights, where the stink of the swamp had been so pungent it was hard to believe they had ever gotten it out of their fur. She had grown up with them, trusted them, their betrayals were among those she could’ve never predicted. Among those that hurt the most. It is for that reason Sootstar promises to inflict the same pain onto them they had brought onto her. She would make them choke on their own yowls before they set paws on her moors again.

”I would kill them in a heartbeat, should they find the foolishness to show their face to me again.” She promises, her words sharp and without doubt. Not even for her sisters would she waiver, they would meet the same fate as the rest of their traitorous brethren.

Again, Cottonpaw speaks of duty, she looks into the she-cats sky-blue gaze intensely. ”Duty has not stopped the cats who’ve walked the same path before you.” Sootstar tests. ”I will have to trust your sense of duty is stronger than theirs. You are to be WindClan’s next medicine cat before the coming twilight.” A full, proper name awaited Cottonpaw. The last of her litter-mates to be awarded the honor. Eyes remain on Cottonpaw for a response, but it was known that Sootstar did not take objections, the medicine-cat-to-be would know this well.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Blue eyes - not unlike her father's - watch her mother's green ones. Her brow furrows, and they seem to grow dimmer by the second (can she even recall a day where Sootstar's gaze was bright? Maybe in youth, when she was cradled by a milkmaid instead.) She notes the flicker of the other's attention when her sisters are brought up. Disregarding Addervenom and Harrierstripe, she finds her litter and her mother's near foils of one another. Mintshade and Bluepool dejected, leaving their sister behind; Moorblossom did the same, finding nothing as both herself and Bluefrost remained behind.

Her thoughts are cut short as her mother confirms what should be obvious. Shared blood provides indifference to the moorland queen. It spills the same color, surely.

Sootstar observes her continuously and Cottonpaw tries to match it as best she can - but she's not war hardened like the older feline. She's softened by teachings prior and current, lost and forgiven. She swallows as her devotion to duty is tested, and the finality of her mother's statement comes with the thump of her tail. Shock ruffles the fur on her chest - though she's anticipated being named a full medicine cat, parts of her hoped dearly that she wouldn't be so callously deemed one. Once upon a time, being named by her mother would've been a dream, and now it makes her sick.

"Yes, Sootstar," she agrees, obediently. She nods, keeps her chest puffed, and hopes that her perceived unwavering nature is enough for her mother to depart.​