FROM THE FOG 𓇼 MISSING

[RIVERPAW]

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝   It is clear to anyone that looked at him that the search for Smokestar had taken everything from Riverpaw. His name felt tainted, now. A burden to carry rather than a gift. The cat that had allowed him into this clan was gone. It wasn't– he had looked up to Smokestar as a leader, as his uncle. Not the way that he adored Lichentail and Hazecloud, not the way that made him bitter and jealous whenever he interacted with his own kits. It was still there, though. This love, and the grief that followed him around with the loss of it. Smokestar was gone. Everyone seems to agree. The trudging around and searching, seeking, pleading with StarClan — all of it, useless. Smokestar was gone.

StarClan took him. Despite the way that everyone cried against it. He feels as if he might lose everything in his stomach every time that he thinks about it, and so he keeps going. Headfirst into the storm that brews, his nose to the ground on every border and hunting patrol that he could tag along on. Rain pattered down hard into his forehead, battering the thin flesh of his ears even as he protectively pins them. Beneath his ground is a mush of thick mud and puddles drowning out the rocky pebbly shallows at a bend of the river. The storm is good, in that respect, because it brings his pawsteps right up to the edge. Easily tracked even as his scent is washed away. And muddling the way, the large, meandering prints of twolegs.

Whether it was the water or the beasts that took him, Riverpaw was gone.

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𓇼 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀

• ooc: —
• "speech"
• 𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟  𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐖. HE ╱ THEY. APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY SALMONSHADE. KINDLING x ﹖ NEPHEW TO SMOKESTAR. —
  
  
  ——  a messy blue tabby with low white. his fur thick and lush with a steady diet of fish and milk, riverpaw is healthy and well-prepared to take on life as an apprentice of his clan. he's dutiful and quick to learn, but rarely pushes himself past that initial level of acceptable. part of him is truly feeling a bit. . . sulky.

​

 

[shellpaw]

a storm has brewed. it casts its cold, torrential downpour through the weaving canopies of reed - thin willow, the wind weaving through their tendrilesque limbs and lifting them into a wild dance. shadows casts wildly down upon riverclan camp, criss - crossed slashings of black flitting across her gaunt face when she makes her way into camp after a brief outing towards skyclan's border. twolegs dot the space around them in heaving hoards now, each press of their awkward pawprints pressing jagged tracks into drizzle - molded mud. rain patters her forehead, the thin membrane of lilac - capped ears with flick with each stray droplet come to douse the tender fur inside as she heads towards the freshkill pile. riverclan's rolling meadows presented a danger in heavy rain, the many streams and rivers connecting their lands too ready to spill over onto corroded sands ; a risk for apprentices too new to navigate quick - flood borders, too at risk of being swept away in the sudden cast downstream and finding their final resting spot somewhere along skyclan's border. the storm was toiling and clanmates duck through the reed further by the minute, eager to avoid the low rumblings of thunder beginning far down the horizon.

riverpaw and pebblepaw must be around, foxtail and salmonshade wouldn't keep them out with the clouds darkening to a deep, moody grey overhead. rheumy eyes flick up to watch, swathes of monochrome drifting quick over an angry sky -- they would spend the afternoon tucked in the apprentices den, she was sure. thinking quick she grabs a salmon, figures she could corner them both into sharing a meal not interrupted by at least one of them being called away. the girl hums as she turns, songbird quiet in her throat to scan camp for a familiar white - splashed pelt. the hardest of the two to find ; smokestar's absence had been a heavy layer upon the tom's heart, she knows. he'd taken it hard, felt the loss to his marrow.. she understands. their blood kin, the one who had saved them and given them a home. they are named after the meadowlands in its honor, in his honor, smoke - tongued king of the meadows. she feels his absence with each step, each conspiratory whisper, each lifeless gaze her mother casts into the foggy distance. she fears it, the loss ; the abandonment, even if the stars had called him home. even if she finds solace in knowing he treads stardust, lives amongst those he'd seen lost and gutted.

to share a meal with her brothers was to know they were there, they were home. they were safe, unlike she once was, unlike smokestar was, unlike their mother ever had been. but there is no sign of riverpaw in camp. she checks their den. there is no sign of him. she sniffs his nest. her heart leaps into her throat.

time rewinds itself, lends her his voice from moons ago when she furrows her brow, steps out of the apprentices den with a warbling ” is riverpaw back yet? has anyone, has anyone seen riverpaw? or salmonshade? “ worry strains dovequiet vocals, ears pinned to skull growing slick and damp with fat, pearlescent raindrops, ” it’s going to, um.. storm any second.. they should be back already. “

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

• i.
  
  
• 
• 
  
  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENTAIL ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. 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 elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with 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.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

​

 

[salmonshade]

To the left, she had called to him. To the left, why didn't she just say to the right? Why didn't she follow after him, why didn't she dive between the twoleg to get to his side? Why didn't she try harder, use unsheathed claws at the paws that had snagged him. He was only just a kid! She should have fought tooth and nail for him to come home. It should have been her in those paws because at least she had lived a good life, served Riverclan good. His had only just started. He was only just a kid.

Has anyone seen Riverpaw? Or Salmonshade? Warbling birdsong asks, dull blue eyes shift over.

"He's gone. I failed him." her voice is blunt, monotone in its delivery but shes too tired to even correct it. She had returned back to camp just before Shellpaw had spoken- to do what, exactly? What was she going to do? There is mud caked up to her shoulders from writhing within in, trying to find him, trying to track any scent that the rain had not washed away. All that had been left of him were pawprints in the mud, and then there had been twoleg pawprints, and then there had been nothing. She did try- certainly, she did and its that thought that twists her stomach in to knots. Not hard enough. She didn't try hard enough. More, more, she could have done more. "We- We got seperated by a twoleg running up on us. Couldn't see it in the rain," something blurs her vision and she has to take a sharp inhale, ears flattening to even focus. "They took him." she leaves the interpretation on how open ended because now, if others think she failed, then they'd be right.

Everyone would be right in that regard. Salmonshade has failed yet another apprentice.

At first its a quiet sniffle as if she were just trying to clear her nose. Next its an unfamiliar sting in her eyes, and Stars, oh Stars, they've taken her apprentice once more. She's quiet as she sinks in to the camp floor below because the weight of the word "failed" brings her crumbling down to earth, paws coming upwards to place over her eyes so no one sees her cry. No one gets the pleasure of seeing her cry, she will not allow it. For once, the muddy feeling of her paws don't bother her.

They took him. They took him, and again, she wasn't strong enough to save him. Second in a row, first Stars willing, next lost to twolegs. Lichenstar, please don't ever give me another one. She sniffles, silent in her sobbing because no one deserves to see her cry. Deserving... Well, she's undeserving, shes undeserving to be a teacher, shes cursed! Each little one assigned under her guidance torn away too fast like a feather from a wing. Stars, do they really hate her that much? Star-forsaken, they must have come down to bite her while she was sleeping many moons ago.

How worthless she must be to not even be able to save him. She doesn't blame anyone if they hate her after this; Stars willing, she'd be up earlier now, she'll search until her paws bleed, she'll scour every inch of the territory. She'll try and bring him home because there is so much more in life for him to see. He has so much more to learn.

𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ଳ⋆｡˚ 𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚁

• 
  ❥ salmon ,, salmonshade
  ❥ cis female ,, she/her ,, 39 months
  ❥ warrior of riverclan ,, mentoring riverpaw
  ❥ fluffy & dainty chocolate tortie smoke with white, blue eyes
  ❥ "speech, fd9367" ,, thoughts
  ❥ lesbian ,, single
  ❥ smells like warm flowers & freshly cut grass
  ❥ chibi by pin ,, penned by chuff

​

 

[TWINKLEPAW]

Twinklekit is playing with stones, stacking them on top of each other in an effort to make them balance. Her progress has been slow and so far her tree of pebbles was only three-high. Carefully she tries to place another stone atop the third as the voice of Shellpaw plays in the background. ‘Is Riverpaw back yet?’ She thinks nothing of it, her older sibling was likely just off doing some cool apprentice thing. It wasn’t often he was found in the walls of camp anymore.

Until Salmonshade speaks. ’He’s gone. I failed him.’

Hm? Huh? She looks up, Salmonshade’s ears are pressed to her skull and her eyes carry a sad shimmer. As surrounding clan-mates hear this news their own faces break out to display grief, sorrow, maybe even anger that Riverpaw has been lost. Twinklekit doesn’t understand, how could Riverpaw be gone?

Tears swell in her eyes, a paw lashes out and knocks over her small stone-tree. Why has everything gone so wrong?

𓆟 INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Twinklekit
  » RiverClan Kit
  » She/her . AFAB
  » A pretty blue lynx sepia with blue eyes
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A meager kitten, defeating her is no boastful feat.
  » Excels in hiding, running from danger.
  » Fights defensively to survive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[lichenstar]

✦　˚ 　✧ ˚　.˚　✦ 　✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• It's the best she can do.... to shore up what tiny fragments remain of her stubborn will. To piece together a rickety support beam to hold her weight, just a bit longer... just until the clouds part and sun shines again... it's just a little longer. StarClan would not damn her to a life without her clan, not so soon. She'd done everything right... had followed the code and fought and bled for this. Her vision swims with faces of those missing... of the petals plucked from the flowerbed of her tepid garden. Sprout-frail and reaching desperately for the rays of light they craved- she'd been left to nurture them-
  
  "Is Riverpaw back yet?"
  
  The world reels to stunning clarity as waterfall stare rushes with activity, reminded of her presence, of the soft rise and fall of her own chest. Of the tiny silver-dusted blessings that exist in the nursery with... with no one. Lichenstar can not waste away her days holding them close and cooing to them that Hazecloud would be back soon, could not bury her nose in the soft scent of their downy fur and try to forget all that was chaotic and wrong and misplaced. She lifts her paw, gingerly, to stare at a stone Twinklekit had deposited at her feet for safe keeping. She was stacking rocks again... a simple enough pass time and one that did not require a lot of her energy to watch over but Shellpaw's nervous, puppy-whimpered question breaks her fixation on one of her youngest daughters.
  
  "I'm sure they'll... be back any second," she tries to offer the reassurance though her voice falls flat, unable to muster the sort of emotional response they might need for support. "I'm sure it-"
  
  A sunset haze drifts through the camp covered in muck and mire as if having crawled from hellish depths themselves. As if she had waded through a soggy riverbed and left it empty-pawed for the prey she'd sought to catch. The reed-thin spindles untangle themselves from their knot to stand... to wander over with delicate steps, tender-footed as if the ground were made of ice... that it might fracture beneath them.
  
  Her voice is devoid of emotion in all the same ways Lichenstar has fallen prey to... a silent, internal storm that is meant to be weathered alone. "He's gone." And the bow of the ship is impaled upon a hidden rock, hidden under the crested of sorrowful waves that mourn a missing half. The frail boards shatter into pieces, break apart to leave its inhabitant floating in pitch darkness. Soaked to the bone... drifting in solitude.
  
  She isn't sure how long she stands there... stone-still and empty.... before the sound of clattering rocks draws her back. Twinklekit's eyes brim with tears... and her mother cannot find the strength to curl around her and nurse her broken heart. And what is to be said... to Shellpaw, who'd been struck with a bolt of lightning foretelling this sinister fate... who now stood as testament that her fears would always manifest into cruel reality? That nightmare did not end in dreams. What of Pebblepaw... ever the valiant, stoic protecter of his kin, clinging to them with claws unsheathed even if it hurt them, as long as it meant they were together?
  
  "Of course..." and it rings hollow... echoing through a vacant host with no fragment of seafaring vessel to cling to. Of course he is gone... because why wouldn't he be? Why would the natural progression not be to take him too... It had roared up louder and louder in its menacing. Troutsnout... Turtlepaw... Moonbeam... Hazecloud....
  
  Riverpaw.
  
  "I'll... go find him..." Even though it doesn't make sense to try. Salmonshade couldn't save him, had struggled to track him but... a hopeless part of her begged for this to be a moment that only a mother could cure. Let this be a chance to prove she was capable of being one, a decent one better than those who'd raised her... That maybe she could pull that shivering boy into her grasp again and tell him it was okay... that he didn't have to stubbornly persist as 'stronger' than needing his mama.
  
  Though she brushes past Salmonshade with enough closeness for their pelts to brush, there is no affection in the motion... just a ghost passing through open space. A voiceless banshee wailing for her lost son.
• about
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
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