EVERYTHING IS LOST \ harmony prompt

[iciclefang]

It's a miserable day; the sky is gray as the river, and a thin, chilly mist hangs in the air. Iciclefang follows her hunting patrol, solemn; she parts her jaws, tasting little but cold, moisture, and the tang of the running water slicing through their wetlands. "I'll try over here," she murmurs quietly to her patrol, twisting away from the bulk of the other cats.

Her slim tortoiseshell shape borders on skinny, now — though she is better off than some Clanmates, with her muscular build, her ribs protrude like branches through dulled fur. Exhaustion comes to her quickly, but there is so much work to be done to keep the Clan fed. The Twoleg camp fire had ruined any chances they'd had at stocking up on land prey, and the river is so cold that few dare to submerge more than a paw. The early frost had showed their Clan how dangerous frigid water could be, numbing extremities, cats falling ill...

Iciclefang exhales softly. Her breath plumes. Sunningrocks should have ensured our survival. Is StarClan angry with us? A haunting thought, one she has not been able to escape since Stormywing's revelation. Iciclefang shivers. Is StarClan angry with me? Surely they would not punish all my Clan for what I did so many moons ago...

She tastes the air again, this time catching the faint scent of something live and warm. Vole. The creature is thin, leafbare-starved, but it would feed at least one cat. She lowers her belly to the reeds, her blue gaze sharp as claws.

But something snaps underpaw — something stiff with frost — and the creature is alerted. Iciclefang pounces, a streak of color against the snow, but she had moved just a hair too late. The creature finds a tiny crack in the stone and squirms inside. She halts just outside, her frustration mounting. "Foxdung," she spits, raking her claws uselessly across the pebbles. I was so close!

She hears paws crunch across the stony shore, and she turns, her ears flat and her gaze apologetic. "I lost it," she says. "I'm a little... distracted, I guess." She bites her tongue. Am I unfit to be even a warrior any longer? Has StarClan taken my skill, my sense, and left me with nothing?

[ open to anyone <3 this is meant to be a harmony prompt where y/c cheers someone up after losing a catch! ]

… ❞​

​

 

[Blackwater]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Blackwater was on his own mission, his attention unwilling to stick to the activities of his clanmates who walked groggily at his side. They all seemed worse for wear these days, the Leafbare weather relentlessly stealing away any chance of them being able to sustain themselves, and their hopes along with it. But it was clear they could not give up, they would continue to try to do something- anything, really- just for the slimmest glint of a silver lining to reveal itself amidst the overwhelming odds.

The river had frozen over, and Blackwater was not the most apt in catching land prey despite his undeniable skill in the water. It seemed that he was out of luck this time around, unable to dig up a single sign of life remaining. His eye twitched and a heavy brow furrowed to shadow his face. That can't be it, surely? Unwilling to give up yet, the tri-colored tabby would press on towards the lower half of Sunningrocks in hopes of a second chance among its shielded crevices.

He approached the hulking mass just in time to witness Iciclefang rush forward in a desperate frenzy to catch what he assumed to be prey. It was hard to discern the animal from where he stood, however it was clear that she had come up empty handed. She would seem to go limp with defeat, her demeanor burdened with guilt and frustration. Blackwater knew this look well, familiar with such feelings. He himself struggled with the same even still, what was ingrained into his mind as a young kit still plaguing him. Perhaps that was why he continued his search now, despite the subconscious reasoning that the entire patrols chances of bringing home anything half decent were nearly impossible.

"Iciclefang. He called out to her as he scaled the rocky stairwell, the feat taking him much longer than it should have given the stiffness that weighed heavily in his bones. "That was quite the impressive attempt. Voles are skittish... easily scared. I doubt I'd have been able to catch one myself." His rasping voice was gentle as he spoke, an attempt to soothe.

Sitting beside his companion with an awkward gait, he would wince as the allowed the weight of his body to shift uncomfortably against his hocks. "You know...there was a time where I had been hunting during the salmon's migration. It could not have been a more plentiful Newleaf- they practically jumped into your jaws, should you allow them to hang open." Aquamarine orbs glittered playfully as he recalled the memory, a small smile creasing the edges of his maw. "I was a warrior by this time. Much too late to be using my lack of skill as an excuse...But I had been standing upon a rock, in the center of the river, waiting for an optimal opening to grasp at whatever I could. It did not take long, the water having turned red with the amount of fish beneath it. However, as I leaned forward with my mouth open- you'd have thought I had been trained by a bear rather than a cat, truly- the biggest salmon you could possibly imagine jumped straight out from the depths, hit me in the face, and caused me to go flying backwards into the water." He leaned closer to her as if he were about to tell her a dirty secret, eyes squinting with amusement. "And the worst part? ...I didn't even catch it, despite it being thrown right at me. At least you have the ability to say your target was running in the opposite direction."

‎‎ AND ARE YOU PREPARED 𓆩☠︎︎𓆪 FOR WHAT COMES AFTER? ༄｡°

• ooc ⋅ Forgive him he has arthritis at the ripe age of 2
  
  

• 

• 
  BLACKWATER ☸ he/him, warrior of riverclan, 25 ☾'s.
  ⭃ sh blue tabby/blue chimera w/low white. slightly smaller than average tom with deep teal hued eyes and a stoic demeanor. physically inexpressive and socially flat despite being quite polite and easygoing.
  ⭃ relationships tbd
  ⭃ peaceful, healing and minor combative powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by sloane ↛ @encarcerated on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[shellpool]

once, iciclefang had seemed untouchable. a cool, still layer of ice over tumultuous waters — sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue that kept her meddlesome paws hurriedly away from the warrior during her earliest days . . despite it, she recalls the awestruck haze her presence brought with crystal clarity. shellkit had never had to be taught to respect iciclefang, lead for longer than she'd known, the mother and mentor of her best friend ; she had been taught her pleases, thank yous and excuse mes swiftly during their shared time in riverclan's nursery . . and not only by her own mothers. in recent moons, she cannot say her respect has waned.

( perhaps intimidation - driven, or the simple fact that her litter had been raised into proud riverclanners without thunderclan interference. wasn't that loyalty proven? . . perhaps her resemblence to pinefrost simply leaves her rose - tinted. )

the sky is a dark, troublesome grey as shellpool trails alongside her patrol ; mist swirls at lilac - capped paws, sore with hunger and overuse. alabaster curls hang loosely at gaunt sides, grown a dull and dirt - tinged fishbone from the slurry of ice - mud dampening the welltred shore. she thanks her mother for the knowledge of land hunting ( air hunting, she'd rather call it ; lichenstar had instilled a taste for birdfeather in her. ) and the scrawny sparrow in her maw. her teeth rattle thin ribs, tattering the downy amber at her catch's chest when she buries it beneath a layer of frosted mush that once had been earth. dreary.

blackwater is what draws her attention from brown - grey thoughts, brassy eyes lifting towards where the striped tomcat scrambled up the iced rockwall. he is stiff, disjointed with movement in angled hocks and it draws her without thinking from her poorly concealed catch. he clambers with a rigidness that frightens her into proximity, as if she would be any cushion if he did lose that awkward footing. his words register slow, the dejected slump to iciclefang's shoulders even slower. that was quite the impressive attempt. voles are skittish... easily scared. i doubt i'd have been able to catch one myself.

he launches into a story better than any elder she'd ever heard ; a scene set and pictured in her mind, newleaf blossoming green around the edges of her mind. by the end, she is giggling ; a momentary reprieve from the murky hunt, " seems your jaws are better for storytelling than fishing. " she teases, blinking up at them from where she settles on sunningrock's lower edge. her limbs shiver in the late leafbare wind and she uses the downtime to rake her tongue over tangling fur, easing life back into numb extremities, " ive never seen iciclefang miss a catch in the water . . if she were as good on land, there'd be nothing for the rest of us to take home. " the briefest glance, the slightest hint of a smile ghosting pallid features towards her best friend's mother.

( a true riverclanner . . mistake - prone. ).

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
• 
• 
  
  SHELLPOOL . 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓆝 ࿐ SHE / HER, FOURTEEN MOONS OLD. WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN ; HAZECLOUD xx LICHENSTAR. SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted eiderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with stubborn baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  LIVING WITH LONGTERM ILLNESS ; prone to wheezing; coughing and sneezing with a forever runny nose. not contagious unless specified otherwise.

  
  

​