CREATURES OF THE NIGHT | intro

[SHADEFALL]

Cold night time air rattles his lungs, yellowcough has seemingly gone and passed the clan largely, but it's mark still remains. Darkness surrounding him illuminated by the moonlight pouring down. The night is his natural habitat. Leaf-bare sometimes has the wind blowing viciously, tonight it howls lowly, stirring the leaves on the soft, swampy floor that lie discarded from their high perch. He resides in the dark, in the cool shades nearby the bushes and trees. Hidden, they're comfortable places to be, aside from the rogue bramble bush when he pushed too far into the wrong greenery. He's close to them as if to be enveloped by the leaves, fully taken in.

While basking in the nighttime he's wandering with a purpose, orange luminous gaze keeps rising to meet the moon. The precious moon has something to be shared, hanging in the sky. Lanky body removes itself from the shadows, hanging a his paw up for a moment each step, revealing his trepidation. Entering it means he'll be seen. He hesitantly exits the protection of the shadows, moving to see the object of his affection clearly. Stepping out reveals his long and wiry frame, messy fur thinning in spots due to the excessive attention he's spared it.

"Say it." He rasps his plea to the sky, the cold inducing a wheeze. The rattle in his chest that lingers long after yellowcough has left seems to be spiting him in leafbare. He wishes she would acknowledge him, say something, he's been trying to talk to her for a long time after all. He wishes for her to offer him something for his devotion. Shadefall's waiting to hear back, secure in the knowledge that someday he'll hear something back from the moon.

Ideas he's been peddling since apprenticeship are easily dismissible, but he remains steadfast in the reality and the inevitability of his nonsense claims. Root of his isolation is this perceived dismissal of the ideas he's spouting, growing standoffish, oftentimes shoulders raised as if they're determined to meet his ears. The young warrior clearly doesn't fit, he's made his peace with it.

Tipping his head as far back as he can manage, he rasps to the moon, words sounding as if they're being pulled out of his throat. "I wish you would say it." As usual, he receives no reply.
​

 

[Starlingheart]

It was not long into her life that Starlingheart began to have conversations with the stars. She had been only a paw-full of moons old, just barely beginning her apprenticeship when suddenly she was thrust into the full realm of responsibility. She still remembers the first time after her aunt left that she had pressed her nose to the moonstone and closed her eyes. When she opened them again her mother had mercifully been standing before her, ready to bestow upon her her medicine cats name. From there, she has had countless encounters with the starry ancestors, they are no strangers to her. And like Shadefall, as many times as she had talked to them, there are still moments where they do not say anything back, where they only seem to answer her when it pleases them.

"What-what are you hoping they'll say?" she asks, her voice quiet. She assumes, of course, that he is speaking to the stars not the moon. She knows what she hopes the stars would say to her. She hopes that her brother will come to visit her, his starry paws gracing the earth just one more time, his voice in her ear telling her that everything would be okay, that he forgave her for loving his murderer, for putting the tools of his death in the paws of the cat who had killed him. She wants it more than anything else.

​

 

[Nightwhisper.]

I don't mind if the world spins faster​

---

Truth be told, Nightwhisper had kept a closer eye on Shadefall after his slow recovery from yellowcough and how it seemed to linger still on the warrior, so it should not come to a surprise that they had followed their brother to where he was now, standing and talking to the stars above, Starlingheart there asking him what was he hoping for and she hummed.

"Perhaps...answers?" she gently questioned before coming into view, her good gaze on Shadefall while a worried smile splayed on the warrior's lips. Not realizing he too was talking to the moon. Yet of course her own question of an answer could be true. Answers for why they were tormented with such a terrible sickness that had plagued their world. Or, why Shadefall had to come down with such an illness. "But...Shadefall, you should rest" she pressed softly, expressing her concern for the other.​

"speak""Thoughts"​