sensitive topics Everything little thing // death // is gonna be alright

[Ashenclaw]

"You'll Never Be Unloved By Me"​

TW; seizures, death,

Everything felt so- heavy.

Like his limbs had suddenly become heavier than they had been and he felt so- exhausted.

The large silver tabby had been sitting outside of camp nearby the camp entrance just watching patrols and wondering what one he would go on next. He tried to keep himself busy for the most part but that seemed harder and harder to do. Waking up was a struggle, his body felt so tired no matter how much sleep he got that day. His paws were clumsy and he couldn’t stand upright some days it felt like as his head was spinning and aching. He tried to see Dawnglare but there wasnt anything that could be done other than rest and poppy seeds- or something like that. He stopped asking after the fifth time.

Ashenclaw laid his head down on the cool ground as it was nicer than the heat he felt under his fur. The silver tabby tomcat breathed heavily and suddenly his body felt like it wasnt part of him anymore. His vision blurred and he was confused, trying to lift his head but nothing happened. Then darkness consumed his gaze as he laid on his side, eyes rolling back and then his body started to spasm and twitch against the ground harshly.

Time seemed to stand still as a few moments later his body laid still, but Ashenclaw did not rise. He didnt move to sit up, he was just so tired, so exhausted, that he leaned into the lull of a sleep he didnt think he’d ever get. Though what he hadn’t been prepared for was the lightness as he suddenly felt no so tired anymore, less like his head was going to implode and his bladder didn’t feel ready to make him pee himself. Yet as he lifted his head, his body didnt follow.

He sighed softly, and looked down at it once more and shook his head.

Then Ashenclaw took a lonely walk down the path and into Starclan.
Speech
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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[Orangestar]

Orangestar knows that as leader, she would see Clanmates die.

It is a mantle that she had willingly taken on, a burden shifted from Blazestar's broad shoulders to her own nearly a full moon ago now. She would watch them join StarClan far too young, SkyClanners torn from their lives like shredded moss from discarded nests. In turn, they would see her perish, over and over again until there was nothing left of her to give. Until she would join Blazestar among the graves of their Clan, wreathed in lavender and still as a frozen night, and never to greet the morning again.

Orangestar had never, in all of her catastrophising, ever considered that Ashenclaw's would be the first life lost under her rule.

They'd been close, once. Even though their tenure as mates had ended, she still considers him a friend. She'd raised kits with him, for StarClan's sake; five beautiful kits who are so close to receiving their warrior names that Orangestar has started to think about what they might be honoured for. It had nearly been four seasons since the blizzard that cemented their friendship, his padding after her ever since, the mistaken confession and her eventual reciprocation.

Ashenclaw had been a warrior SkyClan could be proud of, disappearing at the claws of the dreaded Shelter but then choosing to leave his twolegs for good in order to pursue more time with his kits. Kits ... oh, they shouldn't see this. For a harrowed heartbeat, she's furious; to collapse so close to camp, but still so far from the medicine den, stings as selfish to her stress.

"Get the kits in the nursery. Don't let them out until I or one of my council permits it." She orders coldly, glancing over her shoulder. She doesn't see who she is speaking to, the sight of a familiar pelt unnoticed as she draws close to the immense tabby tom. He's stopped flailing now, reminiscent of Twitchkit but so much more visceral. Why is he so still?

"No- no, hey, Ashenclaw." She nudges him, ears folding backwards. Her voice is soft, rougher than it's felt in moons. He needs to get back to his nest so that he can rest some more. Maybe more sleep would do him good. Why isn't he moving?

Her voice cracks on, "Bad place for a nap. Let's get you to Dawnglare."

Her voice breaks on, I'm not ready for you to go.

ooc ✧ 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦

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  ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | nine lives
  " a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  
  — single ; mentoring springpaw
  — speech is in #E3B2A9
  — art by deja for meme week!
  

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[BEETLEBACK]

H-huh?! Are you mad at me or something? The tabby is exasperated, maw slightly open as Orangestar coldly gives him orders. He doesn't have anything against their leader, but would it kill her to ask a little more nicely? Of course, he doesn't voice his complaints. It's better to just set out and do what she asks, something tells him that today will not be full of sunshine. Ashenclaw's still form burns itself into his memory. He was never close to the warrior, nor did he know the relationship between the tom and Orangestar. Sensing that this was no laughing matter he nods and answers, "Got it. I'll be going now." And with that, he enters camp. No one knows yet other than he and Orangestar of a collapsed Ashenclaw.

It's jarring how happy everyone is in camp, watching some clanmates laugh in the distance. Maybe I should tell one of the lead warriors... Who won't kill me. Hmm, Bestie I choose you. He hopes Orangestar won't have his head for quickly seeking out the burling black lead warrior. To ensure no panic spreads within camp he whispers for Slate alone to hear, "Something's wrong. Orangestar ordered me to keep the kits in the nursery until she or one of the council members permits it. She's not too far from camp." He gives Slate no room to question him further or yank him. A slippery snake he is slinking away with a smile plastered on his face and a bounce in his step towards the nursery.

The kits are thankfully near the nursery, playing with each other and getting up to whatever kits do. He saunters up to one of the queens who looks quizzically at him. He can't blame them. After all, there is no reason Beetleback should be here. It's not like he's brought fresh-kill for the kits or was visting a mate. Anyhow he would whisper to the queen, "Orangestar asks that all kits be brought inside the nursery. Something's happened." Maybe there was a better way of wording that, but words fail him at the moment. I'm trying my best here. Hopefully Orangestar or the council will say something to ease their worries. He turns the attention to the kits, unsure if he should say something. After all, he doesn't want to step on any toes. Last thing he wants is bad blood with all the queens for trying to help.

// briefly talking to @SLATE and feel free to be a queen he's explaining the situation to!

 

[Cherryblossom]

Her father is around. That's all he is. Cherrypaw sees him in camp, preoccupied with sharing tongues with some cat who is not Orangestar. Cherrypaw sees him on patrols, his big silver coat flashing like steel on snow. The wintry sun winks off his thick pelt just as the chill must, and she always gives him a good-natured smile, or at least a familial nod, when she strides past him. She can't remember if he ever smiles back; she never looks at him long enough to notice.

And now, her last and longest glimpse of her father will be one of him twitching to death. She hadn't been intending to say anything to him. She hadn't even noticed him when she walked in his direction. She doesn't notice that she's stopped walking until he starts quivering, and then she wonders why her paws aren't moving.

"...pa?" Her voice comes out as little more than a squeak. Ashenclaw must not be able to hear her over the sound of him banging his head into the ground, over and over again. He'll be drilling through the snow and mud at this rate. Maybe she should slide a paw beneath his temple—no, she should get someone. He should, "stop." A harsh whisper, hoarse around the lump sudden in her throat. "Ashenclaw, stop," she orders him, pathetically imperilous as she had been as a kitten, sitting between his legs and demanding more stories out of him.

Helplessness wells in her stomach. It spirals outwards like ink crawling along cotton fibers, soaking her limbs and skin, until she's pinned to the scene with the weight of it all. A paw stretches towards him (she should jolt him out of it), then retreats (touching him could make it worse). "Pa, what...?" Ashenclaw finally stops, though Cherrypaw knows it could not be because of her. A sigh, tentatively hopeful, trickles from her lips.

She rests her paw on a broad, striped shoulder, giving it a little shake. "Hey, are you okay?" His eyes remain resolutely closed. Cherrypaw frowns. This is not death. This could not be death. Death was bloody and screaming, or bloody and silent, but foremost and final it was bloody. Ashenclaw might have bruised his head hitting it against the ground like that, but there's no iron-pang wafting into the air, no crimson oozing between tufts of fur. No one could simply have shaken themselves to death.

It's only when her mother arrives does the realization truly dawn on her. "No- no, hey, Ashenclaw." Something is wrong, yes, but now something is truly and deeply wrong. Cherrypaw sends her a questioning, pleading glance, though what she pleads for eludes her. Perhaps she hopes she can hide from the rising tide of her panic in her mother's unyielding gaze, but they seem to be collapsing under the same pressure. She feels it creeping up her neck, a big ball of moss; she feels tears pressing hot at the inward corners of her eyes. "Ashenclaw," she repeats, higher, shriller.

She can still escape it, this panic, this helplessness. Cherrypaw lifts her head, gaze as frantic as a mouse beneath a hawk's shadow. "Someone help! Ashenclaw—he's—he's hurt!" Frustration beads upon her cheeks, wet and warm and sticky. It infuriates her. "SOMEONE! DAWNGLARE! FIREFLYPAW!" Her voice has risen into a screech. She doesn't care if the kits overhear. Her father is far more important than the innocence of some stupid kid, who would probably have it all ruined anyway like she had. But not like this, oh no, she doesn't deserve this. Ashenclaw doesn't deserve this.

"DAWNGLARE! FIREFLYPAW!" It's half-roared, half-wailed. "He's—" She chokes on a sob. "He's not moving..." Red-rimmed eyes settle back upon him, to once again check for whether she is lying. Because she has to be, because he has always been there. Even if she hadn't been looking at him, or talking to him, or even noticing him, it had been enough for him to be there. And the one time she is there...​

 

[COFFEEPAW]

❝ SO GIVE ME COFFEE AND TV ————————————

It was one of the few days Fantastream had taken him and Sangriakit to visit the clan. He loved getting to see his kin and friends. Yet, at this current point in time he was busy meticulously stacking rocks upon each other. Nose pushing them into a pile and paw precariously batting them into place. Usually, the spunky little tom was all about play but today felt like a 'do your own thing' one. Lately, he had noticed his parents seemed a bit weird. Coffeekit couldn't quite pin point it and for now these rocks would keep him busy. Beetleback's arrival didn't so much as stir the chocolate tabby. Small face scrunched in concentration as he delicately kept the wobbly tower in place. A sudden and harrowing screech of 'SOMEONE! DAWNGLARE! FIREFLY!' causes his pelt to spike and in his confusion the pile falls gracelessly.

Fear throttles the kittens heart and all he can do is freeze. Wide green eyes turning to terrified saucers as he looks up to the older cats near him. Voice trembling in a low whine the kit asks in a hushed volume. "W-whats happening?" Fretfully he peers around as the voice of Cherrypaw wails for the Medicine cats once more. Choking back the rising anxiety he asks in a higher trill. "Where's my mama?" Quickly, his pupils bounce between his denmates and the Queen's. Seeking out the familiar pelts of his parents and Sangriakit. Heart thrumming to life with adrenaline and uncertainty.

[penned by tasmagoric]

———————————— TIL THE WORDS START SLURRIN ❞ ​

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[SLATESNARL]

Beetleback approaching him was not usually a good sign; Slate was almost prepared to outright tell the warrior that he wasn't in the mood for another round of questions when he instead broke alarming news — Orangestar was in trouble in one way or another. Beetleback did not specify what; in fact, he did not stick around to even elaborate. "What? Why? Is she alright?" The lead warrior demands after the blue tabby tom walks in the direction of the nursery. What was happening?

"DAWNGLARE! FIREFLYPAW!" Shrieks source from the familiar voice of his apprentice, prompting Slate to instantly perk up. The hairs along his neck tingle. Was Orangestar hurt? Had something—or someone—gotten her? Another rogue attack. Just like what had happened to Blazestar, he thinks. It does not yet dawn upon Slate that Orangestar now has several lives to spare; in his mind, he only knows that his friend is in danger.

The lead warrior had booked out of camp within moments, not wasting any time on reaching Orangestar and jumping into harm's way to—

Oh.

The burly tom halts, eyes narrowing as he quickly assesses the situation — it does not look good. Slate stands, slack-jawed, gaze darting from Ashenclaw's still body to Orangestar's form kneeling over him to frantic Cherrypaw. "What happened?" There were no signs of blood or injury, and Ashenclaw had been decently healthy as far as Slate knew.

Fireflypaw and Dawnglare are almost positively on their way now; there was no mistaking Cherrypaw's screams. Only they would be able to help Ashenclaw now... if he was even able to be helped. However, Slate surely knows what a deceased cat looks like; eyes glazed and lifeless, chest still, face paled. Realization twinges in his chest; Orangestar had just lost her former mate. Her kits had lost their father.

His eyes once again settle on the hunched form of Orangestar, his mangled ears lowering back. The two had not remained mates, but she had still loved Ashenclaw... something that Slate had always struggled to come to terms with as much as he tried to deny his own feelings. He had wanted to hate Ashenclaw for it, but how could he, when he was so... good? He had been kind-hearted and honorable and liked; everything that Slate wasn't. Everything he probably could never be.

It's selfish of him to immediately think of himself, but he does anyway. Slate cannot help it.

In a rare instance, he doesn't know what to do. Slate stands back, not moving forth and simply waiting to be told how to act. He does not know his place here.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

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  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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[BLAZINGHEART]

YOU TELL ME THAT YOU NEED ME — The red apprentice had been preoccupying himself with the duties within camp seeing as he could not leave until he turned six moons old as the law set down by his grandfather after what had happened to him and his siblings. He had gotten some new bedding for the elders beginning to weave to the best of his abilities with his big paws and he's growing slightly irritated when he wasn't getting it done the right way, maybe he would have an easier time removing ticks from the pelts of the elders. He considers it for a heartbeat as he finishes up weaving and tries to move to the next one, his hackles rise when he hears the wailing coming from outside and his pupils widen having been startled. Had the rogues come back? That's what he suspects at first and he can't help but lower his body in the elders den with widened eyes as his breathing quickens, he finds himself silently panicking, and his brain screams at him to move and find his mother.

He hesitantly steps out of the den mentally preparing for the sight of claws and teeth being bared but instead sees a few of his clanmates crowding around something or rather someone, his body still tense as Cherrypaw cries out for Dawnglare and Fireflypaw. Blazingpaw swallows feeling his throat growing dry as he stands there, he moves a few steps forward until he could see a glimpse of the body that laid limply within camp. Ashenclaw wasn't okay from the looks of it and his emerald gaze is fixated on the stilled form of the warrior and he doesn't recall meeting him so he knows nothing of the warrior aside from having been Cherrypaw's father. He could not imagine ever losing either of his parents, Starclan forbid, especially when his grandfather had died. The thought itself making his chest ache and his green gaze tries to searc briefly for either of his parents, he needn't call for his uncle or Dawnglare, they surely heard the cries of Cherrypaw.

Instead, he moves back not so he didn't get in the way of closer friends and family of Ashenclaw. His helm dipped respectfully and settled on his large paws not uttering a word.

YOU TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME 𓆩✧𓆪 AND I KNOW THAT IM RIGHT

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  ✧ longhaired red tabby tom with green eyes
  ✧ 6 moons old; ages the 28th every month
  ✧ sexuality unknown; too young
  ✧ son of coyotecrest and howlfire
  ✧ brother to wolfpaw and hawkpaw
  ✧ currently being mentored by bobbie
  ✧ easy to befriend ; oftentimes quick to anger
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed

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[edenberry ?!]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 Any excuse to be in her light is a welcome one... It couldn't have gone better, even with the risk they took to spout their confessional out loud where others might hear it. Cherrypaw was a spark of energy (that many would argue Edenpaw didn't need more of) and it fostered a constant need for her presence in a way that hadn't been so strong before. They do their best to be better, not because they needed to be a warrior for SkyClan but because Cherrypaw deserved someone that could keep up with her. She was a heroine... someone that had been far greater horizons than even the oldest kittypet had.

Edenpaw would need to run great lengths to catch up.

So they did, by lunging across canopies to become a better hunter. It was the only skill they felt they could rely on improving. So when they came home triumphantly carrying a wren in their mouth, they felt their feet were barely touching the ground. Success loomed behind them like a shining star and briefly, they considered that maybe it could be Blazestar's light guiding their paws. It is reassuring... A belief they cling to amidst so much dark.

What they didn't expect was to hear her voice in such distress... Or at least, not now. They'd thought in a certain amount of morbidity that one of these moons it would be them or their den-mates to show up dead (they were just apprentices after all and each of them struggled in some small way)... The way she screamed, Edenpaw could almost believe it were Glimmerpaw dying. Or... or maybe Lupinepaw? Their faces pass in joyful smiles in their mind's eye and panic sets their paws in motion, tiny bird-prey abandoned and forgotten instantly.

"Cherrypaw?" Her name comes out an anxious hiss, rushing towards a frightened whirlwind of leafy fur as her cries begged for Dawnglare. For Fireflypaw. For anyone. Their eyes catch the dandelion fur of Orangestar hunkered over something- someone- and their breath catches in their throat. It isn't the familiar midnight fur of their friend... not the dappled pelt of Cherrypaw's littermate. It's...

Ashenclaw.

Their paws go still... The reality sets in slowly, too slowly. Cherrypaw needs them... She... She's crying. Edenpaw doesn't think they've ever seen Cherrypaw cry. They don't know what to do with that information... dragging steps to sit by her side. The idea creeps forward that they should do something to support her... but what did Edenpaw know about this? How did you comfort this? They don't lean against her, don't even dare to touch their weeping sweetheart for fear she might shatter like ice under the pressure.

"I... I'm here Cherrypaw," they offer softly, ears flattening to know they can't do more than just exist beside her. To wait for her to take the first step in this dance... to tell them where to go.​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

---

Hells fucking bells. Beetlebacks words have the bobtail on his feet in an instant, only pausing when the scared voice of Coffeekit asking for their mother stopped him short.

"She'll be right along, little one. You head inside with Beetleback and make sure the nest is warm for her, aye?" he said with a smile, leaning down to give them an encouraging nudge toward the nursery entrance before nodding to Beetleback and making his way over to see what was going on- though, by Cherrypaws screaming he was quickly getting an idea.

Hurt.. no, utterly still. Johnny didn't crowd too close, knowing he would only get in the way, but his ears fell flat against his head at the realization that Ashenclaw wasn't breathing.

OOC- speaking to @COFFEEKIT and acknowledging @BEETLEBACK

---

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[Owlheart]

It was supposed to be an ordinary day, a boring day where nothing eventful happened. Of course, this illusion of a day like that shattered the moment Owlpaw could hear her sister screech. Instantly the worst came to mind, either Cherrypaw herself was gravely injured or someone else was, neither option was pleasant. She wasn’t sure what to do in this situation, all she knew was the instinct to make sure that her sister was okay.

It felt like her heart had become a thunderous storm by the time she reached the source of the chaos, she didn’t even remember getting there that quick. “Cherrypaw!? are you oka-” her words and her body froze as soon as she saw the body of Ashenclaw. This had to be a joke, right? Her father would never have played this kind of cruel joke and she understands that. However, she would rather this be some kind morbid prank than the daunting reality. He couldn't be dead, death didn't come on boring days. Death was always warranted in some way right? you're either sick or you're unlucky, Ashenclaw wasn't either of those, not to Owlpaw.

Maybe he had been sick? She can't say that she had stopped recently to notice that, too wrapped up in her own stress to notice others in her life. She should move, say something to her sister, to her mother- but she couldn't. All Owlpaw could do was stand there, staring at her front paws because she couldn't muster up the courage to look up and see her fathers still body again. She desperately wished to close her eyes and be a different cat when she opened them, no amount of wishing was going to change her situation though. She was still Owlpaw, her dad was still dead, nothing was going to change that. Letting out a shaky sigh she brought a paw to her face, trying to stop the tears.

I can mourn later, she thought bitterly as she slowly put one paw in front of the other. Despite the fact that every part of her burned with the desire to be anywhere but here she moved to sit within her sisters eyesight if she chose to look around. “What- what happened?” she refused to look at him, trying to look everywhere else instead. Surely someone had answers right? You don't just die... Something must of happened.​

 

[Eggbounce.]

I'M GONNA BE THE SNACK THAT SMILES BACK
I'M GONNA BE THE KIT TO YOUR KAT ​

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eggpaw & 11 moons & male & he/him & skyclan apprentice ​

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Orangestar puts the kits on lockdown, and at first Eggpaw doesn't understand why. Confusion is not an unfamiliar state for the boy - head in the clouds more often than not, he's always been a bit slower than his siblings. But for once his smile has vanished, tail quivering in fear as he takes in his fathers collapsed body. It'd been strange, when his parents had separated - still his parents, but not in love. It'd been hard to stomach, and admittedly he'd latched on tighter to his mother than anything else. But he'd never wished for anything like this - never thought his father would be anything but his father, living and breathing alongside the rest of them. For a moment he can't swallow it, the truth - that ashenclaw had been just as human as the rest of them, just as mortal as him. But there he is, collapsed upon the ground when cherrypaw shouts and orangestar coerces him. " ... mom? .... dad? what- whats happening... cherrypaw... cherrypaws wrong, right? " comes childish voice, soft and frightened. He can't be dead - he can't be. Surely, this is just another joke, another lie. They're all making fun of him again. Despite his large size, he suddenly feels small - so terribly small. Helpless as a kit again. Tears well up but don't quite fall as he shuffles his way beside owl paw, grey-blue eyes wide and distraught. " Mom-? "

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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( I ' M ━ G O N N A ━ B E ━ T HE ━ O N E ━ Y O U ━ U N W R A P )

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