DEPARTING FOR THE GRAVE ✧ quarantine goodbye

[WEASELCLAW]

Wolfsong would have had time to discuss his decision with Sootstar by now. Weaselclaw’s trek back toward camp had been deliberately snail-paced, but even had he been excited to bid his family and Clanmates goodbye, his pawsteps would have been slow. His head throbs, and though the sun is weaker now than it has been in moons, his flesh sears beneath his thin fur. When he lifts his head, dull blue gaze narrowing on the rustling exit to camp, he suppresses another swallow of nerve-filled saliva. It’s like acid on his tongue, in his throat.

He has never felt so afraid in his life. No matter how many battles he’s fought and walked away from, this is one he has no control over. His opponent cannot be blinded or bullied into the mud with his claws running red with its blood. The idea leaves him feeling fainter than he had before. This could be the one war he will not return from, and he will die in a hole with the rest of his fragile, coughing Clanmates, all of them secluded from the sun.

Weaselclaw’s limbs shake, but he remains upright. Steady. When his mate and kits approach him, save for Moorpaw, he will lift a paw to prevent them from stepping too close. “You have to stay safe and healthy.” His voice is tired. There’s a slight rasp to his words now, though he’s not yet been plagued by the coughing he’s heard from others. “I’ll survive… until they get back.” He has to last that long… and he is determined to. “I won’t be there when you have your warrior ceremony, but when I come back… no one will cheer so loudly,” he promises his sons, searching for two pairs of copper eyes. “Be well. Stay strong. Your Clan needs you now more than ever.”

To Sootstar, he does not speak. He only meets her gaze for a long, silent heartbeat, so that he may remember the shade of her green eyes when he is worsening.

He and Moorpaw both, all of their Clanmates who are too sick to remain in camp, they will be fine. They have to have faith, although—

Weaselclaw no longer has anyone to pray to, he realizes.

✧ INFO.

• family tags!!! healthy: @SOOTSTAR @Adderpaw @cottonpaw @HARRIERPAW @BLUEPAW
  sick: @MOORPAW
  this is open! all cats who have yellowcough will be relocating to the abandoned badgerset!
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

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[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw had seen Wolfsong upon his return, though the tom had little to say in her direction. She watched him slink to Sootstar, watched their discussion from afar, as their faces morphed with a saddened understanding. In the end, they split ways, and a different warrior notified her that she may want to hang close to the camp's entrance. And there she stands now, watching the horizon line for why she may have been summoned there.

She spies Weaselclaw long, long before he arrives. Her naivety doesn't lend her solace in the moment as she recognizes his slow, dragging steps. He grows closer and she notes the crust around his nose, the glaze around his eyes. You should've left her alone, she wants to say, anger and fear gnawing at her gut. She would've been fine. Sootstar, with all of her many lives, could've lived through dying once more - but her father? He cannot. The sickness would take him and more - and Cottonpaw cannot see a world without him quite yet.

"Weaselclaw," she breathes, the fur on her shoulders ruffling when his paw holds up to keep the healthy at a distance. He speaks like this could be the last time he has the chance to - 'I'll survive,' he says, and she desperately wants to believe him. "I'll be visiting you," she states; virtue of her position, she supposes. To, first hand, watch her father wither away. Stars, what sort of blessing is that? "I promise," she finishes, and she wishes she could brush his cheek while she says so. ​

 

[VENOMSTRIKE]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ The moor runner cannot help but feel his heart sink when he sees that Weaselclaw has fallen ill which only added more to there current sickly cats, a part of him frowns and wishes it hadn't been the case. Oh, how the mighty have fallen and that thought itself is enough to make his insides twist and knot with unease. How long would it be before more of those he cared about would fall ill and take off to follow the rest of the sick cats, his buttercup hued eyes searching within camp for that one cat that meant the most to him but feels hopeless when he did not successfully spot him. A sigh slips from his powerful jaws as he watches the exchange between Weaselclaw and his family, his ears threatening to lay flat against his skull as he observes from a little aways. The tabby warrior promising that he would've been the loudest to cheer for his sons, the way he speaks its almost like a final goodbye and the thought of it was disheartening. How would Venomstrike feel if someone like Wolfsong, Rattleheart, or even little Redpaw had gotten sick?

The thought along unnerves him and his stomach does a few uneasy flips, the moor runner holds his breath for a bit longer and nods to Weaselclaw "I hope for your recovery, W-Weaselclaw..." An awkward yet genuine smile appearing on his scarred features, he sincerely meant it. He wouldn't wish harm nor death on any of his clanmates even if some were distasteful like Ghostwail, he perks his ears up and silently hopes for Starclan to watch over his clanmates, they may have lost faith in the star blessed skies but he has not. ​

[ HELL AND HIGH WATER, TO LAY HERE TOGETHER ]​

 

[Bluepool]

The departing cats have an air of grimness about them, like they were expecting to be marching straight to their own vigils rather than just going to quarantine. Who knew with this sickness though, maybe they were. There was a good chance that the cats standing before her now were not going to make it back. Her yellow eyes immediately find Weaselclaw and Moorpaw in the crowd and she knows how hard this must be for her sister. Sootstar wou;d never show it, she knows better than to think she would ever because her sister is the strongest cat she knows. Still, Bluepool comes to stand next to her side, a show of sibling solidarity and a rock to cling to should she need it. Bluepool could be the strong one for once, she would take it all on her shoulders if she had to.

For her, she tells herself. Anything for her.

If Moorpaw were to catch her eye she would offer her niece a soft smile, one full of melancholy and unsaid grief "Get better soon okay kiddo" she says, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking. To the stars she sends a silent prayer. 'Please StarClan' she says internally 'Please let them come back to us'

​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR​

When Wolfsong presented the idea of guiding the ill to the abandoned badger set den she had felt her stomach churn. The decision to send those with green-cough away last leaf-fall had been easy, but now she was sending her mate and Moorpaw away. Sootstar put her clan first, her health kin first. She agreed with Wolfsong after a long pause, the ill must go. Goodbyes were never easy, but Sootstar made it look like they were. Her face was like stone and bore no emotion, she comes to stand beside Cottonpaw and looks at Weaselclaw. His strength had been completely wiped out of him and he looks like a shadow of the tom she had come to love. While he speaks to his children she looks to Moorpaw, the gleam of her black fur still present despite the illness that plagued her. ”Survive this and your warrior assessment is more than passed.” Sootstar longs to lick her forehead but refrains. ”Once you’ve returned to camp strong and healthy you’ll be hailed as soon as possible by your warrior name.” A few brief seconds of silence float by before she adds with a dull smile, ”I already have one in mind.” She hopes that she at least is sending Moorpaw to the badgerset den with something to look forward to. Just survive. Then a silent look with Weaselclaw, their bond as mates strong enough where no words are needed to communicate. Her eyes are filled with warmth and… pity. She detests seeing him in his weakened state, she hopes to see him returned to him stronger than ever, but who is there to pray to? For either of them?

☾ 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

​

 

[Addervenom]

Life doesn't discriminate

The grimness plaguing the air as he watched Wolfsong approach Sootstar causes his jaw to tighten with unease. Cottonpaw stirs at his side, reclaiming his attention as he ultimately ends up following her. There he finds Weasleclaw, or what could only be described as a dull shadow of his former vigor. Beside their father stands Moorpaw, both of them tinged with the sickness skyclan has brought upon the forest. Righteous anger floods his veins as he dares to take a step closer in protest. But the lift of the tabby's paw halts his approach. "You have to stay safe and healthy." Tufted ears flatten against his helm as Weasleclaw continues, promising to chant his name to the very heavens. "I'll...be waiting." He states finally, deliberately slow to keep his voice from cracking. They had to survive long enough to return home. There were few cats he knew to be as tenacious as his father, surely he would survive this. ​

Between the sinners and the saints​

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