Despite the hardships the other Clans have faced, WindClan remains stoic in the face of this early leafbare. Scorchstar manages her Clan well: patrols run smoothly, even without a deputy to assist her, and the Clan is well-fed and warm as they can be. Though cats have strayed across their borders, Scorchstar's Clan has avoided serious battles or injuries, and the tunnelers maintain their prey pile when the moorland warriors struggle on the surface.
During the celebration, as the Clan enjoys the unseasonably warm day and the overabundance of fresh-kill at their disposal, Scorchstar will feel a brush of cold against her muzzle. A snowflake. It melts instantly, and as it does, time around her seems to stand still. Her Clanmates almost seem to cease moving at all — but one silver-shrouded silhouette moves toward her, its eyes blazing like fallen stars.
"Scorchstar." The StarClan warrior greets her with a troubled expression; they reach for her muzzle with their own, and as they do, Scorchstar's head will fill with color: Celandinepaw's golden shape, struggling against fierce winds that batter her fur; Shaggydog, his dark pelt covered in frost; Bilberrypaw, escaping to the tunnels as the storm encroaches.
The silvery warrior retracts their muzzle. "Beware the storm, Scorchstar." It's all they can give her before time reanimates, before there is no trace of the warrior who'd come before her, before the Clan is celebrating like normal right before Scorchstar.
@SCORCHSTAR
During the celebration, as the Clan enjoys the unseasonably warm day and the overabundance of fresh-kill at their disposal, Scorchstar will feel a brush of cold against her muzzle. A snowflake. It melts instantly, and as it does, time around her seems to stand still. Her Clanmates almost seem to cease moving at all — but one silver-shrouded silhouette moves toward her, its eyes blazing like fallen stars.
"Scorchstar." The StarClan warrior greets her with a troubled expression; they reach for her muzzle with their own, and as they do, Scorchstar's head will fill with color: Celandinepaw's golden shape, struggling against fierce winds that batter her fur; Shaggydog, his dark pelt covered in frost; Bilberrypaw, escaping to the tunnels as the storm encroaches.
The silvery warrior retracts their muzzle. "Beware the storm, Scorchstar." It's all they can give her before time reanimates, before there is no trace of the warrior who'd come before her, before the Clan is celebrating like normal right before Scorchstar.
@SCORCHSTAR