- Feb 12, 2025
- 18
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VELVETDUSK
HE/HIM
SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR

Perhaps it's a trick of his mind, but camp has seen especially subdued in the wake of their latest omen. Velvetdusk has shifted through the background of many a tragedy since his joining—slinking unobtrusively through deaths, disappearances, and disasters—but never has he seen a sign quite like that one. It weighs more heavily on the mind than ever when he and Screechstorm are slogging through the task of tracking a marsh rabbit's trail over what feels like endless leagues of mucky snow.
So much prey, gone to rot. It was a sign from StarClan, had been the consensus—and he does not disagree, but he wonders at the spirits' method of communication. Would a mouldering tree or lightning-wrought rock not have sufficed? Velvetdusk is spiritual, but he would not consider himself ready to be the stars' mouthpiece by any stretch of the imagination—that is firmly Marbleleaf's province. Evidently, though, their collective supplication had done little. Had their spoiled prey been a punishment from the stars, or only a portent of what was to come?
He cannot tell which is the better option; perhaps Screechstorm can. " Given our circumstances, I can't help but think of our fresh-kill pile's recent affliction. " Puffs of steam accompany his gentle voice. Screechstorm is roughly his age, but like many of his Clanmates, there has been a disconnect. Maybe it's just the force of presence of the latest doom and gloom, but he's felt a growing compulsion to speak lately. One that certainly hadn't been there before. He blinks slowly at Screechstorm, nosing at a withered tree's roots in hopes of catching hints of their quarry's wild scent. " What do you think it meant? "
So much prey, gone to rot. It was a sign from StarClan, had been the consensus—and he does not disagree, but he wonders at the spirits' method of communication. Would a mouldering tree or lightning-wrought rock not have sufficed? Velvetdusk is spiritual, but he would not consider himself ready to be the stars' mouthpiece by any stretch of the imagination—that is firmly Marbleleaf's province. Evidently, though, their collective supplication had done little. Had their spoiled prey been a punishment from the stars, or only a portent of what was to come?
He cannot tell which is the better option; perhaps Screechstorm can. " Given our circumstances, I can't help but think of our fresh-kill pile's recent affliction. " Puffs of steam accompany his gentle voice. Screechstorm is roughly his age, but like many of his Clanmates, there has been a disconnect. Maybe it's just the force of presence of the latest doom and gloom, but he's felt a growing compulsion to speak lately. One that certainly hadn't been there before. He blinks slowly at Screechstorm, nosing at a withered tree's roots in hopes of catching hints of their quarry's wild scent. " What do you think it meant? "
ooc:
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SicklexIsabela/ younger brother toSebastian
mentored by Doveswoop / mentoring n/a
15 moons old as of 2/1/2025penned by dejavu