sensitive topics GIRL ON A STRING ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ DEATH

[Swansong]

"Ternstar...?" Their voice is soft, delicate. Ghostly blue eyes dance in the dim of the night, a pale form silhouetted by the mouth of the leader's den. The roots curl in above them, earthen walls closing in like a tomb.

Their leader is ill. It is hard not to notice. Sickness clouds their own mind - but it always has, ever since they day that death claimed their body. Will Ternstar carry it with the same gentleness? She is a wild thing, a starving scavenger like the rest of ShadowClan. They are not the same. She meets her sickness not with acceptance, but with bared-teeth stubbornness. Her body is rotting, and she refuses to accept it. It is tragic to watch.

And still, she comes to them. Asks Swansong how to proceed, how to cure the sickness.

It is not merely a matter of herbs, they know. The rot goes deeper. If they want to cure the plague that ravages their lands, they must cut out the rot from their very camp. They must sever the curse that has chased them for so long.

Does she have what it takes? They find themself doubtful. StarClan called her, and still the clan would not listen. Still, they beckoned another forth. If she knew the truth about Haretooth, would she understand? She didn't understand with Caterpillarfuzz. She condemned the sweetest of all the clan without question, and would certainly do the same to them. The lying tastes like iron on Swansong's tongue, and they know that their leader cannot understand the truth. She will cast away the chosen, lead like so many paranoid corpses before her.

It is a mercy, to spare her to the slow rotting away that each leader has faced. She is dying, and it is a much kinder thing when dying is the end.

They know that well. They will take the burden upon themself, and they will set things right.

It's for the best.

They approach the leader's curled form slowly, gaze fixed upon that glassy, sickness-addled look in her eyes. She is already gone, they know. In a movement, they are upon her. "Keep quiet," she hisses softly, nose pressed to the leader's ear. A single claw comes towards her neck, pressing just slightly enough to draw blood. "Or I shall silence you myself..."

They will make the first death a kind one. "Close your eyes... The stars call you to join them..." They shut their own eyes in turn. "Sleep, please..." They cannot afford the mercy they wish; the clan will not understand. Ternstar will fight back upon waking, and yet the only voice left will be their own. Tears in their eyes, breathlessness in their voice, they will swear that it was self-defense. Their delirious leader thought them an enemy - they had no choice.

But for now, before they draw the dying molly into a frenzy, make themselves the victim yet again... They will offer her peace.

"Goodnight, Ternstar..." They murmur, and they draw their claws swiftly across her throat.

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆

SWANSONG BIOGRAPHY ㅤ/ ㅤTOYHOU.SE
★ demigirl ( she / they ) ㅤ& lesbian, mate to poppyglow (npc'd)
★ㅤ 24 moons old & ages realistically, every 17th of the month
★ㅤ deputy of shadowclan
★ ㅤhalfshade x smogstar ㅤ& littermate to applejaw, ashenfall, garlicheart
★ㅤ ㅤmentored agaterain, swallowflutter & currently mentoring promisepaw
★ㅤ penned by saturnid & ㅤmessage saturnids on discord for plots!

"SPEECH"

 

[Ternstar.]

SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECY,
YOU'RE THE ONLY GUARANTEED LOYALTY ​

---

ternstar & 28 moons & female & she/her & leader of shadowclan

---

★★★★★★★★★

—— ─ ─ Illness leaves her faint — and still, she stubbornly refuses Marbleleafs help. This is what shes made for - this is why she has nine lives. But death is slow and cruel, and still refuses to come. She wonders if it will at all — or if she will simply lay here, withering away, until at last they find a cure.

She wonders which is better.

Swansongs soft voice fills the den, and she blinks - tail gesturing a welcome, not that the deouty seems to need it. In hard times, Swansong had been a comfort - a reminder that Ternstar was doing what was best for shadowclan, even when it seemed like everyone else had turned against her. She expects to hear something about patrols, or what they should do about their tainted water.

Instead, she finds claws pressed against her.

" Swnasong—? What... " voice wavers, and to Ternstars shame it is not with illness but with betrayal.

She feels the sting of her throat as she speaks, even her soft words drawing blood. ' Close your eyes... The stars call you to join them... '

She speaks as if it is a kindness, a prophecy — and Ternstar closes her eyes, but not without question. " Why? The stars... " The answer that meets her shakes her to core, and she stills. Fake... all of it fake...' she thinks bitterly. Claws draw across her throat, and then—

She lunges, shoving her weight upwards against the pale she-cat, feels as claws tear across her throat, but not quick enough, not clean enough. Wound bleeds slughishly, but she stands, and she still breathes. A snarl on her jaws, she moves to barrel her over, trying to rank her claws against Swansongs side as she does so, before a moment of clarilty has blue eyes taking in the pale gleam of light that comes from the entrance — she needs to get out of here, away from the confines of this den.

She needs to leave - to let the clan know of Swansongs crimes, before she kills the deputy. Before she gives them another reason to trun their backs against her, to question her actions.

" Sh-Shadowclan... Swansong— " Blue tabby figure surges from the maw of the den, the scent of blood heavy in the air, her gaze meeting @SHARPSHADOW s for a pained moment, but it is not an explaination that spill past her lips next but blood, and eyes widen as adrenaline fade and vision blurs, world slipping into darkness. Theres far too much blood - in her mouth, in her lungs, spilled across the ground. She knows then, moments before she topples, that this must be it. The end.

Eyes turn glassy, as Ternstar is met by starlight for the first time.

─ actions & " speech " & 'thoughts / quotes'​

---

I SWEAR TO YOU, I'LL NEVER EAT AGAIN

---

. ݁₊ ⊹ Ternstar is a massive blue-silver tabby she-cat with an all white head and striking vibrant blue eyes. She is far from the kindest of cats, often cold and aloof - with a notable soft-spot for kits, and a rather dark streak for mischief. She is parent to Rainbowpaw, Cornflowerpaw, and Ivorypaw; and currently mentors Rainbowpaw and Rotpaw. She is gifted in battle, and still maintains all nine of her star-given lives. ​

// this is now open to reactions only — please do not attack Swansong
as there is something preplanned, and will not take more then a few moments Icly ♡

 

[RAGGEDBITE.]

STARLIT FANTASY​

---

it's been coming for a long time, he thinks. her first death. the stars of course knew how this would play out, how it would end, but it doesn't make it any less shocking. swansong was spiraling, and now... she'd done something that would absolutely cost her, wouldn't it? who knows what the consequences of that would be. raggedbite twitches his ears with a soft hum as he helps ternstar to her paws, offering a soft smile to her with a nudge against his friend's cheek.

"hi, ternstar. he is really sorry he has to see you again like this."

there is a moment for silence that he offers before he simply presses his nose to her forehead.

"you've lost a life. the life he gave you. but it's okay. not only do you have more but that love inside of you will never go away, even if... even if it may feel like sometimes you want it to. you care and that's enough. now, let's heal those pesky wounds of yours, hm? and remember. raggedbite loves you. you are his best friend, even here in the afterlife. in the stars. we are watching you, always, ternstar. good luck."

he can't stay long, as much as he wishes he could, but he's gotta get back to his mate now.

​

 

[MARBLELEAF]

MARBLELEAF

SHE / THEY ◆ SHADOWCLAN MEDICINE CAT

Marbleleaf has strayed to the mouth of the medicine cat's den, expression creased with displeasure. Silentkit in particular has not been particularly obedient with staying in his nest, and she knows the other kits are restless, too—but it's her job to make sure they are conserving their energy. Prey is hard to come by, she thinks tiredly. We have to make sure every morsel is going somewhere useful. It's on the tip of her tongue to scold one of the kits when someone bursts, half-mad, from the mouth of the leader's den.

The healer stills, stiffens; Ternstar had been ill, had refused any treatment thus far, however experimental. The great silver tabby sways precariously on trembling paws; the pale fur at her throat is bunched, draining scarlet. Marbleleaf's jaws part in a wordless yowl of horror; her short dusty fur begins to spike along her extremities. "Ternstar?" The sight of their leader in such a state—in their own camp—draws a panicked huff of breath. Her first instinct is to go to her, to staunch the bleeding—can she save that life, can she?—but Ternstar manages to warn them:

"Swansong…"

Marbleleaf's teeth click together sharply. Swansong? Dry-moss eyes flick from the crumpling figure of Ternstar to the shadowy canvas of the den behind her. She can see someone pale inside—phantom, wraith, vengeance like poison in blossom-blue eyes. Marbleleaf's instinct now is not to save Ternstar—there is a glassy look to her face, now, a stiffening to her body. She curls her tail around any of the kits near the medicine cat's den, ushering them roughly back inside.

"Don't look," she gasps, her flanks heaving with nausea-driven adrenaline. A traitor… StarClan, the feather—!

ooc:

—

accordion

Marbleleaf is the ShadowClan medicine cat. She is thin, with a short fawn tabby pelt; the base color is a dull, almost-gray slate, and the whorling classic stripes are deeper shades of wet sand. She has white facial markings, chest, and paws, an angular face and build, and moss-colored eyes.

Lilacfur x Siltcloud / sibling to Sycamorebloom / mate to none / parent to none
mentored by Starlingheart / mentoring none
15 moons old as of 04/01/2025

penned by Marquette

 

[ROTPAW]

*+:｡.｡ It seems as though...as much as Rotpaw wishes never to admit it... its world has expanded. In its youth, it had known so little outside the endless blanket of pearly snow and the warmth of its pack. Some peeks were stolen here and there - at the inky black sky whose stars never quite sat the same each night, or the glimpses through the trees of distant moorland or rushing, furious water it heard but never approached. There'd always been a promise of more just beyond the hidey holes...and Rotpaw would be lying through its teeth if it said it'd never been curious.

But the last time it had broken free of familiar and wandered into the unknown, it had witnessed the aftermath of its mother's death.

Cursed, it seems, by the transgression of not listening to its mother the first time - now Rotpaw didn't get a choice when it was shoved deeper into this unknown. From a clan full of cats to a marshland full of dangers, there were no hidey holes. None that it'd win fighting for, anyway. Ceremonies and culture, chores and community, Rotpaw felt every day like it's head was expanding far beyond it's memory bank could allow and it...it...

It hated it a little less every day.

There was still so much it'd prefer - still longed to cuddle in a pile with its siblings and shield them from the cold and the violence the world continuously had to offer...But it also found it didn't wish as desperately for that time as it used to.

When had Rotpaw looked forward to waking up? When had it become cherished rather than a chore for it to scramble to keep up with The Great One? When had it become disappointed that she was growing too sick to stand on her own?

When did Rotpaw become afraid for someone outside of its pack?

Three moons ago, Rotpaw would've sought to steal Ternstar's den while she lay weak enough to be conquered. Now, despite being bigger and trained enough to deal a significant blow or two, it instead spent the morning burying its nose in rocks and within fallen trees. Gathering a sizable amount of beetles, worms, and grubs, it felt certain that this could turn the tide in Ternstar's illness. How someone as big and strong as her could've gotten the weak smell was beyond Rotpaw, but...it didn't want to just stand by and do nothing.

Perhaps choosing to "hunt" at night might not have been the wisest choice, but sleep never came easy to the kid, and it was still expected to train way early in the day despite The Great One's collapse, so...beneath the moon, it'll have to bug hunt.

And it seemed it wasn't alone...



Movement catches its attention. Lifting its head from where it'd been wrestling with a worm, its sharp yellow eyes catch the silky wisp of its foster-mother. Not for the first time, Rotpaw marvels at Swansong's beauty. Phantom comes to mind once more, but ethereal fits so much better. A creature that arrives soon after death has lightened upon ruby soil - a flower that blooms after a violent hurricane. It thinks, suddenly, of Ternstar referring to her as Rotpaw's mother. It wasn't the same. It'll never be the same...but...It held a new appreciation for the woman and what she'd done for the Pack. For it.
Perhaps...perhaps it should try and talk to her more. It owes its life to Phantom - to Swansong, and though it doubts it'll ever be able to call her Mother...perhaps it's not impossible for her to fit into the pack...

Rotpaw watches as she enters Ternstar's den, before resuming it's little bug hunt. Pawing at the ground where the worm disappeared, it crinkles its nose at the droplets of blood it'd accidentally drawn from the worm's retreating tail. An ugly smell, no matter whose body it was stolen from...

The red glows beneath silver moonlight.
The scent of it seems to only increase.

Rotpaw coughed, feeling it's body suddenly grow heavy and cold. It's never been able to stay calm at the scent of blood, but it doesn't freak out like it used to...so why...why does it suddenly feel like all it can smell is the worm's blood?

Covering its nose with its paws, it struggles not to breathe heavily. Not to think about foxes, bones jutting from wet wet wet wet wet flesh, red, sinew, claws reaching red one last time red and metallic and scorching and

It whips its head around, eyes so wide it feels the corners of them burn.



A fox pulls itself free from Ternstar's den.

A scream caught in Rotpaw's throat as it leaps to it's feet, back arched and bristling. No no no no - it had been one thing, seeing the aftermath of what a fox could do, but it'd never thought - had the fox continued to follow it's pack? Where they next? It thinks of Pupkit, ripped to shred, Silentkit howling even in death, broken claws reaching, of Icykit, standing until she was nothing but exposed bones and eaten muscle and red red red redredredREDREDREDREDREDRED


But what ultimately collapses outside of Ternstar's den isn't a fox...no, the second the omen of death falls, her splattering of red gives way to the familiar pure white ruffled by the breeze.

Ternstar.



Each step is a war.
Every nerve, every muscle, every bone in it's body to every specific red blood cell begs and screams for Rotpaw to run. Grab the pack and run.
But it takes its steps, inching closer to the fallen leader.
The smell is clogging, it's nose is on fire, it's brain rattling with images and warnings and omens and threats of death and so much red, so so much red, it smells it, sees it, tastes it, can feel it soaking it's paws it's everywhere, everything,

But Swansong is in there.


It - it needs....it can't run this time it - it has...it has to...

The plan - if there ever was one - isn't fully realized. The war to get each limb to move and each step to fall is enough to exhaust it, especially when the battles get so much more violent in its head the closer it gets. Ternstar isn't getting up. The blood has soaked her fur scarlet. She's eaten. She's dead. It's over. Theres a fox, and Swansong can't have possibly survived it - the pack can't survive it - it's over it's over it's over it's over it-


It's so scared.


"Mnnmm" it choked, arriving at Ternstar's head within the span of an eternity. It's made it this far, Everest's peak, but only finds a world of thin oxygen and freezing winds. It's nose is on fire, it's soul is screaming, but it's energy gives out and it collapses onto it's belly. It needs to get the Pack, it needs to - to save Swansong somehow - somehow -

But all it can do is press it's nose to Ternstar's forehead.


It couldn't say goodbye to Mother maybe...maybe this time...for The Great One...it'll spare a moment....

*+:｡.｡ Updated 4/2/25

• 
  
  GENERAL:
  ➶ Rotpaw
  ➶ DMAB— it/its — Unsure
  ➶ 6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month 10th
  ➶ Shadowclan — apprentice, Mentored by Ternstar
  ➶ Sibling to Icypaw, Silentkit, Cubkit, and Pupkit
  ➶ Adopted by Swansong
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ➶Physically easy | mentally medium
  ➶ Attack in bold #d4c115
  injuries: None currently

 

[sneezeduck]

SNEEZEDUCK

HE/HIM SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR

A commotion wakes Sneezeduck from his slumber, dragging him out of the depths of the warrior's den. A call into the night from Ternstar's illness-wrecked voice, like some sort of urgent meeting. Before he is even at the mouth of the den, he hears what follows - Swansong - and fears the worst. Had she perished mysteriously like so many others in her line? Was a replacement to be called tonight?

Somehow, it is worse.

The warrior rushes to the medicine cat's den, where his kin reside - he meets Marbleleaf's eyes with confusion and fear, for only a moment as she ushers the little ones back inside, and then follows her startled gaze towards the leader's den where Ternstar calls upon her Clan. It happens in a mere moment - blood sprays into the night air, and the sickened molly is felled.

Behind her, he catches a glimpse of it; the pale white of Swansong, the shine of her blue eyes. She delivers death, just as she does their word. The feather..! Had StarClan truly sent them a traitor as a deputy? Or is this a mercy for Ternstar that none would recognize but them and their shared spiritly mentor?

He fears to meet Swansong's gaze as he stands rigidly next to Marbleleaf, frozen with wide eyes like a deer in headlights, unable to move to save Ternstar from her fate.. or Swansong from hers.

ooc:

--

accordion

Sneezeduck is a chocolate tabby tom with cream under-accents, a disorganized pelt, and abnormally long head-fur. He is tall and lanky with big paws - overall clumsy in appearance.

— duckshimmer x unknown tom
— brother to singeglare and swallowflutter
— half-brother to bloomkit and songkit
— mentored by sharpshadow
— mentoring icypaw
— 18 moons old as of 4/02/2025

penned by ixora

 

[Silentkit]

Silentkit

Status: Bored, Upset, Broken

---

Sleep is something that eludes him on the best of days. On this night he can't sleep at all. He twists and turns in the nest next to the littlest, unable to settle, unable to rest. He stretches his growing legs out, they ache and he hates it. He flops back down, legs tossed over the littlest's back as he stares upside down out of the sick den. Movement catches his eye and he watches the pale ghost make her way over to the large ones home. He's not concerned with it, there is no indication that anything is wrong this night, but it's the only thing happening right now so he tracks her across camp. He watches as she disappears into the big den and thus flops his head back to the ground. He turns to stare at the sky instead. Bored and tired and unable to sleep. A glance at the littlest shows that they are passed out, so their no help. He sighs a long sigh and returns to watching the sky.

It is the approach of the healing one that next has him lifting her head, she turns to say something but is interrupted. commotion from the big den draws his attention away and that is when his thoughts go blank. All he sees is red. Red dripping down mother's skin, red staining the white of the snow, red that preceded death. A sharp intake of air and he is up and scrambling. The healing ghosts tail tries to block his vision, tries to drag him inside but it is too late, he watches the life leave the big ones eyes, watches as she falls motionless to the ground, and. He. WAILS. A long, loud, haunting sound, that if one wasn't already aware of the commotion they are now. His voice fails him, cracking in the middle, a dying sound as if he is the one that has fallen, not the big one. The dark one scrambles to his paws, shoving past the healing ghost, leaving the little one behind. His throat screams at him but he still tries to make sounds, nothing comes out. His voice is wrecked and no one can hear his screams.

The dark one stumbles forward on silent, wobbly paws, sickness forgotten as a surge of energy propels him forward. He can not be late, he will not be late. He has to protect the big one. She took his offer for safety for the pack, the trading of a pebble for a feather. She taught him a game. If one were to replace her he does not know what will happen to the pack. At least with her he had an inkling that they may not be killed. The blood scent chokes him as he approaches the big one, his mind not registering the movement of the pale one just that it is there. He runs towards it, he has to save the pale one. The big one is too large, he can not carry her, but the pale one... the pale one he can drag, no matter how weak he may be. They will escape, they will live. The big ones death means they are not safe. They have to leave. Teeth latch onto the pale ones scruff. A weak attempt is made to pull them away, away to hide but his legs give out under him, the ache strong, and the energy gone. All he can do is bury his head into the fur of his sibling, crush his weight against them, and hope that whatever has killed the big one, the leader, Ternstar, that he can protect them from it too.

Silent tears stream down his face, soaking the pale ones fur. His mouth is open in a scream that does not leave. A wail that no one can hear. His voice is lost and he can not be heard. All he has is the pale one and the fleeting comfort it's warmth brings, before his mind goes black and he remembers nothing else.
​

---

Louder The Bark ☣────☣────☣ The Bigger The Blade

• OOC:
• Silentkit - Male Black Smoke with Yellow Eyes ☣ He/Him ☣ Shadowclan Kit ☣ Penned by Snowy ☣ 7 moons
  ☣ Contact TimelordSnowy on Discord for plotting
  ☣ Sibling to Icykit, Rotkit, Cubkit, Pupkit
  ☣ "Speech"
  ☣ Thoughts
  
  

​

 

[greystare]

Swansong's ruse is doomed by their Clan's nocturnality in this moment. The night holds its breath, exhaling in a commotion by Ternstar's den, and Greystare's spectral presence is among them in mere heartbeats. Swansong attacked Ternstar. Swansong killed Ternstar! The frantic whispers turn to keens from kits, exclamations from the older ShadowClanners. Blood pounds in Greystare's ears, yet she can't do anything but laugh at the sheer circumstance of it all. Swansong, chosen by StarClan's blessed omen itself, caught with claws stained crimson by Ternstar's blood! Is StarClan howling beyond the veil?

"Swansong! You-" Greystare's laughter turns hysterical. She feels tears prick at the corner of her straining eyes. Heaving for breath and incredulous, she wheezes, "What have you done?!"​

 

[Swansong]

Ternstar's eyes slip closed easily, and it brings a small smile to their face. Peace. That is all they can hope to grant, in this moment. When she wakes again, it will be gone - but at least the rest comes easily. The cut is neat.

And then that peace snaps like thin spider's thread, and the leader is shoving back against her.

Swansong stumbles, feels pain scoring against her sides and gasps - this is not how it was supposed to go. Those ghostlight eyes turn wide and glassy, fixed upon the snarling face before her. Blood dances through locks of white, painting the leader's pale throat crimson. And yet, in this moment she looks more alive than ever. The sluggishness of sickness gives way to fury in a manner that the distant deputy can almost envy. Before they can even react, she is gone.

"No, no no..." The pattering rain-hiss of a mantra spills from Swansong's maw, bloodied paws rushing after the leader. "Ternstar...!" they call, voice trembling. It's all wrong. She wasn't supposed to run. Blood makes a trail from the hollow of the leader's den, and Swansong's ivory paws are stained even further as she follows it.

A thousand glinting eyes turn upon them, caught like in a monster's gaze. They freeze.

Rotpaw buries its muzzle in Ternstar's bloodied fur, and they cannot bring themself to interrupt. All around them, their clanmates are whispering, staring. The kits - their kits - hide their faces. It reminds them, suddenly, of their youth. Of watching Granitepelt dragged by their father's teeth from the very same leader's den, blood of his teeth. Their paws itch. They remember the cries - murderer, monster. They remember watching from somewhere distant. They remember of Siltcloud, standing by her brother's side, cooing in their own ear in that starless place.

What have you done?

Only what was for the best - isn't that right? They offered mercy, salvation. And yet, under those endless scrutinizing stares, they suddenly feel small. They remember their youth, and they remember hiding in the nursery with their mother and trailing behind their steadfast father. "I..." The word comes weak and trailing, pale eyes glassy. "I didn't..." I didn't mean it, rests on the tip of their tongue, childish and small. Not like that, at least.

The words don't come. They are frozen, and for once they let doubt seep in and chill their bones.

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆

SWANSONG%E3%85%A4 BIOGRAPHY ㅤ/ ㅤTOYHOU.SE
★ demigirl ( she / they ) ㅤ& lesbian, mate to poppyglow (npc'd)
★ㅤ 24 moons old & ages realistically, every 17th of the month
★ㅤ deputy of shadowclan
★ ㅤhalfshade x smogstar ㅤ& littermate to applejaw, ashenfall, garlicheart
★ㅤ ㅤmentored agaterain, swallowflutter & currently mentoring promisepaw
★ㅤ penned by saturnid & ㅤmessage saturnids on discord for plots!

"SPEECH"

 

[Ternstar.]

TW for dissociation, shock, and implications of S.I. ! Please be cautious when reading! ​

SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECY,
YOU'RE THE ONLY GUARANTEED LOYALTY ​

---

ternstar & 28 moons & female & she/her & leader of shadowclan

---

☆★★★★★★★★

—— ─ ─ Eyes open to a world painted silver by starlight, and for a moment she feels at peace. There is no more pain, no lingering ache in her bones or laboured heave of her lungs, only quiet serenity. The stars welcoming her home.

It is a familiar face that greats her, and she can feel her fragile composure break - " Hi... Raggedbite, " comes the croaking mew, sounding far smaller then she ever has since kithood. The comforting touch of her friends as he guides her to her paws is bittersweet - the knowledge of how, of why she is here heavy between them.

She is dead.

Her only comfort is that it is not forever - or at least, it should be. Instead, blue eyes water faintly, stubbornly refusing to let them fall, even if she knows her cheeks will remain dry when she returns to the waking world. To the land of the living. Nose touches her forehead, and she sinks into the touch for a moment, the words on her lips barely more then a breath. " But how.... how am I supposed to go back? To face them? " She has been led astray, in her own foolishness, and she cannot even blame all of it upon Swansong. No, this is just as much her own fault.

The stars have no answers for her, but in truth, she doesn't expect them to. Shame writhes in her belly as the world begins to fade once more, reality begining to creep in. What feels like an eternity is only a few moments, a handful of heartbeats and scattered gasps.

---

​

Its a slow thing, the way chest begins to rise and fall once more - the way blue eyes lose that dull sheen of death, returning that spark of life. Someone is touching her - eyes flutter, blinking at the touch of a cold, wet nose to her forehead - a mimicry of Raggedbite's own, and a bitter smile tugs on the very edges of her maw. But there is no time to speak, to comfort Rotpaw - as touched as she is that it cares, she has something more important to tend to.

Anger burns cold - rage spreading swiftly like the blood that flows once more through her veins. " Liar. " she spits out - the only warning she gives as frail figure rights itself, a sweep of her plume tail smoothly nudging Rotpaw and SIlentkit out of harms way, meeting Swansongs gaze where her deputy stands nearby, looking over what she has done.

She looks frail, shell-shocked by the reality of he choices, and her actions. Almost... regretful, even.

But Ternstar has no mercy - with a lunge, strong jaws are wrapped around Swansongs throat in a heartbeat, the heavy taste of flesh and blood coating her tongue as she rips and tears. It is a quick death - near instantly fatal for those who manage it right. But there is no honor in this kill, no mercy or kindness in it's swiftness, only a cold, aching hurt.

Ternstar had trusted, and Swansong had betrayed.

Ternstar wil not make the same mistake as her predecessors. She will not forgive. She will not forget. She will see this threat eliminated, long before bloodstained paws can be turned upon anyone else. There will be no Comfreypaw. No Starlingheart, no Lilacfur. No one else will be hurt by this murderer.

She watches as the woman's willowy figue falls to the ground, and she spits blood out upon the ground, staring vacantly into the space they have just occupied. At the bloody remnants of battle, at the crying children and the horrified gazes of her clanmates. Head remains high, despite exhaustion creeping in and that telltale feeling of numbness in the back of her mind, of not caring anymore. She hardly hears the words that fall from her own lips, voice an expression dulled by heer pain, her shock.

" Swansong.... faked her omen. And I- I was wrong, to make the choice that I did in my anger, that allowed her to do so. Sharpshadow... Sharpshadow is Shadowclans rightful deputy. I am sorry. " She should- she should do something else. Something more. Should move. Should do anything really, but she just stands there, frozen in time, hovering over the body of her killer. She's lost, not knowing what to do next. She'd died.

... if only she could have stayed dead, perhaps things would be easier.

─ actions & " speech " & 'thoughts / quotes'​

---

I SWEAR TO YOU, I'LL NEVER EAT AGAIN

---

. ݁₊ ⊹ Ternstar is a massive blue-silver tabby she-cat with an all white head and striking vibrant blue eyes. She is far from the kindest of cats, often cold and aloof - with a notable soft-spot for kits, and a rather dark streak for mischief. She is parent to Rainbowpaw, Cornflowerpaw, and Ivorypaw; and currently mentors Rainbowpaw and Rotpaw. ​

​

 

[Halfsun]

Halfsun couldn't move.

Not when the den erupted in chaos. Not when the heavy stench of blood clung to the air like fog. Not when Ternstar— her leader, their leader— staggered into the open, throat torn open, white fur slick and red. Not even when she collapsed.

The world twisted sideways.

She felt it crack inside her like a dropped stone. The noise, the shouting, the scrambling of paws around her— none of it felt real. It was like she was underwater, her ears filled with rushing silence while her vision tunneled in on the ruin of what had just occurred.

And then the scream.

Silentkit's cry pierced the camp like a thorn to the heart, and Halfsun flinched— visibly, bodily. Her breath hitched in her throat. A sob threatened, and she fought it, but it came anyway. A terrible, wrenching thing that stole her breath and folded her into herself. She staggered forward a step, her paw sinking into the sodden earth, and choked out a second breathless noise. Her throat ached. Her chest burned.

Swansong.

She could see her now, caught in the firelight of a nightmare. Blue eyes wide, blood on her paws, like some tragic, fallen statue carved from snow and secrets. A dream turned inside out.

She had believed in her.

More than she wanted to admit. She had defended her when others doubted, held her in the cradle of her trust like something unshakable. Swansong had been a constant— strange, yes, but hers. Her sister.

Was her sister.

The words repeated in her mind until they warped and blurred and melted into something she couldn't hold onto anymore. She didn't move when Ternstar rose. Didn't breathe when her leader lunged. Didn't blink when Swansong fell. Only watched.

As Swansong's body hit the ground, her legs finally gave. She sank to her haunches, unable to keep herself upright any longer. Her eyes remained locked on the still figure, unable to look away. Swansong's blood was still spreading, slow and dark and final, staining the camp like a curse.

A memory flashed behind her eyes— shared patrols and whispered words. A feather, glowing with divine promise. The way Swansong had stood in the moonlight, ethereal and untouchable, speaking like the stars had kissed her throat. All of it a lie.

She pressed a paw into the dirt, claws raking through moss and soil until her limbs trembled. Her heart beat so loud it drowned out everything else. She didn't know what to do with this. This grief that wasn't just grief— it was betrayal, humiliation, fury, and heartbreak all wrapped up in a tangle of blood and memory.

And underneath it all, something colder. Resolve. Never again. She wouldn't trust like that again. Not so blindly. Not so fully. Not just because someone had stars in their eyes and promises in their voice. Her claws dug deeper, jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

She wasn't sure who she was angrier at— Swansong for lying… or herself for believing. Around her, the camp was chaos. Silentkit sobbing somewhere behind her. Kits being shepherded away. Greystare's laughter still echoing faintly like a crack in glass. Sneezeduck frozen in place. But Halfsun? She was still as stone, her grief a silent scream buried beneath the weight of everything she had lost.

Her sister. Her trust. Her certainty. All drowned in red.

( ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥) smile for me when you set me free

• 
• 
  HALFSUN SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO APPLEJAW, ASHENFALL, SWANSONG, GARLICHEART, AND LAURELGRIN ; MENTORING BOUNCEPAW
  

  A tall and well-toned she cat with a long half-and half pelt, one side being a dark blue tabby and the other a bright cream, split by a pool of white at her center and travelling up her face like flames she is fire and ice simultaneously swirling into one. Her eyes are a mismatched shade of blue, with one being bright like the daytime sky and the other dark like the depths of the river.

  ✦ Difficult in battle + a skilled fighter

 

[promisepaw]

Promisepaw isn't sure where he is when it starts. He knows the moon drenches their home in a beauty he has always loved, knows that the gaps in the leaves give them morsels of starlight - that StarClan is watching, guiding them through the night. He is often fine simply being rather than worrying over how important his existing may be in the moment. It's another night. It's unimportant. It... was unimportant.

He remembers seeing Swansong earlier in the evening. He may have even sent her a smile and asked if they can trawl the WindClan border again - strike fear into some useless moorcat. And he left it at that, because if his mentor ever needs him, she knows how to find him. Ever obedient to her, the tom knows she doesn't worry for him. She knows he will always return to her. He knows that's where he belongs.

He doesn't see her again until the blood smatters the ground.

It isn't Ternstar who captures his attention. She, with her open throat, cries across the camp their deputy's name. And her deputy dutifully trails behind her, the same red ichor blooming across her paws. Promisepaw isn't stupid, no ShadowClanner truly is - ignorant is a fault they often do not bear. Perhaps Pessimism and unending hatred, but not stupidity. He knows what she's done, and watches coolly as Ternstar falls and spills, spills, spills. Wails and gasps fill the air, two of Swansong's kits splitting from the ranks to cradle Ternstar's pale crown. Promisepaw looks on to his mentor. It was hard. He's sure, by the trouble in her gaze. But it was necessary. StarClan spoke, had they not? Clearly Ternstar could not cure them of their plague. They guide Swansong to leadership, in hopes that her connection to them will save ShadowClan.

It happens too fast. Ternstar rights herself - "Swansong -!" - and joins her jaws into the soft flesh of his mentor's throat - "Swansong -!" - and rips. The spray is beautiful, arcing in a way only his aunt could manifest. Promisepaw can hear the squelching of torn muscle and blood, especially as Ternstar spits it out, as if she had dirt between her teeth. Mismatched eyes widen, his pupils pinpricking. This isn't right! His stomach flips as he pushes himself to his paws, but feels teeth drive into his scruff. He turns wildly towards the steadfast and stoic Puddlepaw, his claws arching into the ground next. If she mumbles something, he can't tell. His anger and fear nearly lash his lanky limbs towards his friend.

"Let me go, let me go-! I have to -" He cries, "Swan-" But as he looks back to where she is, and her form spills across the ground. Her ribcage does not rise and fall. She's stained red. Promisepaw does not breathe, as if he must cease all of his own autonomy to honor his mentor. He was entrusted to her, both by his leader but also his fathers. And now, without her - without her...

"I was wrong." Ternstar speaks and ignites the small flame in Promisepaw's chest. His casual demeanor is nonexistent in the moment, his face twisted into something ugly. She announces a new deputy, reinstating a former one, as if she hadn't brutally slaughtered her last moments before - in front of her kits, no less. (Promisepaw does not dwell on the implications prior; his honor and loyalty spoils and rots, blooming nowhere for the hierarchy of ShadowClan.)

"Stop - stop touching me! Let go!" He bites at Puddlepaw, perhaps something he may regret later. He rips from her, grimacing at whatever scrapes his pelt may now bear because of his friend's insistence. He races away, not towards Ternstar's bloody stance, nor to wherever Sharpshadow may stand in the moment - but to Swansong. He feels his stomach roil as he looks on to her, as he silently prays for StarClan to unanimously gift her another life. This can't be her time - this can't be the end. He blinks a few tears from his eyes as he stares, her eyes still half lidded with (shame? Guilt? No, she was doing what she was told to. Fury, confusion, frustration. He will hold these for her.) He trembles, unable to immediately untangle his own tumultuous emotions.

"Sw-ansong…" He weeps. "You… you were supposed to be here…" For him, for ShadowClan, for StarClan to continue speaking through. Promisepaw feels as if he must spill his own heart just for her to hear him again. "I'm sorry -" he apologizes only to her. He curls against her pale form, unafraid of the blood that'll stain his fur for days to come. "I'll… I'll keep your gr-ave… I'll keep it clean. I'm sorry."

The blue furred boy shrinks away from anyone who tries to touch him, unwilling to part from the molly's side. He, StarClan willing, will be by Swansong until it is his own grave he must rest in. It is what he promised to her. He is an honorable boy in some ways, he supposes.
​

 

[BOUNCEPAW]

Bouncepaw has never heard screams like these before—not all at once. They sounded like Myrtlefoot's when Bouncepaw's kit-sister, Juniperkit, died. Bouncepaw would never forget the sound of her dismayed screams, they've followed Bouncepaw several phases of the moon into the future, into her nightmares. She suspects these screams will as well.

Bouncepaw doesn't understand what's happened at first. Swansong stands over Ternstar, there's blood on her paws and the leader isn't moving. Cats run to shield and hide the youngest members of the Clan and Graystare, breaking her laughter, asks the deputy 'what have you done?!'

Swansong somehow seems paler now, caught like a deer in monster lights. Bouncepaw feels her tongue go numb in pure shock when realization falls onto the apprentice, she killed Ternstar.

Ternstar returns from the dead quicker than Bouncepaw had ever imagined. She knew leaders had nine lives, of course, but she had always pictured them remaining still for quite sometime after. This was the first time she bore witness to a miracle of StarClan, and she was in awe.

The magic is swiftly snuffed. As soon as Ternstar rises, she spins around and wraps her jaws around the throat of the deputy. Blood splatterrs across her white face as Swansong squirms beneath her. It feels like minutes have passed when Ternstar finally lets her go. She falls to the ground and finishes bleeding out, the life from behind her eyes fading, in just a matter of minutes the leader and deputy have swapped places—only there was no coming back for Swansong.

Bouncepaw is horrified, even as Ternstar explains to the Clan that Swansong had betrayed the Clan by faking her omen and attempting to kill her leader. Just minutes ago Swansong to them all had been their deputy, none of them had any reason to suspect she had nefarious motivations. Then just like that, she showed herself capable of murdering their leader, and now was dead.

Bouncepaw begins to weep. For Ternstar's loss of a life. For Swansong's betrayal, her death. For Halfsun. For Promisepaw. For herself and her Clan.

When would ShadowClan wake from this nightmare?

ღ

BOUNCEPAW . BIOGRAPHY / TOYHOU.SE
✦ female (she / her) / heterosexual, single
✦ 8 moons old / ages realistically, every 1st of the month
✦ apprentice of ShadowClan
✦ Myrtlefoot x Bristletooth / littermate to Juniperkit
✦ mentored by Batchaser
✦ penned by ava / message av.a on discord for plots!

Bouncepaw is a warm, brown she-cat with black tabby markings caging her fur. She has a broad muzzle and big, cream colored paws. White fur cascades from her chin and flows all the way down to pool at her underbelly. She has big, owlish, hazel eyes.

 

[Opossumpaw.]

Opossumpaw was shaking.

She was trying to stop, stars she was trying, but her legs still unconsciously trembled beneath her, though she didn't know why. No matter how tightly she wrapped her tail around her paws, it just wouldn't stop. Her usual bright thoughts had seemingly scattered, as if to hide somewhere within the dark recesses of the pine forest they all called home.

Her eyes were stuck wide on the center of the clearing where everything was happening. The blood was already soaking deep within the dirt, but she could still see it. Swansong's fur, usually eerily white and pristine, was forever stained by not only her blood, but Ternstars. Her image was forever tarnished in the minds of all present. Would Opossumpaw ever be able to think of her without her paws stained, her neck flowing out the last threads of her life?

She didn't remember sitting down, moving back to the entrance of the apprentice den, and sitting away from the growing crowd. Part of her wanted to rush out, comfort other cats, but she didn't know how. There- there was so much grief. So much chaos. It overwhelmed her, leaving her brain spinning as it tried to grasp a place to start. Her claws half unseathed, sank into the moss under them.

Ternstar did it.
She killed Swansong, just like that.
Opossumpaw's breath hitched, and she curled tighter, ears flattened. Her cheerful voice was gone now, replaced by a whisper that barely felt like hers.
"…She was our deputy." Opossumpaw didn't know who she was talking to. Perhaps no one. but most likely herself, trying to rationalize the brutal scene out loud. Perhaps if she spoke aloud, things would make more sense. "…She was good, wasn't she?"

No, no, that wasn't true anymore. Perhaps once, when she had taken in Rotpaw and its siblings, Swansong could've been considered properly kind. But trying to kill the leader? Definitely not so. Starclan had punished her for failing to be kind, just like it had her own mother. Swansong had failed. A small flicker of doubt danced through her mind for a split second- did she want to be here? Be a warrior? But she shook it off, throwing herself back to her feet.

No, she couldn't think that way, or eventually she'd end up the same as Swansong. Dead, punished by those above. She glanced around, doing her best to throw on an unsteady smile as she began to try and help where she could, darting off to the medicine den to help shield the kits. Perhaps she would ask Sharpshadow what she could help with later too, when the camp had finally settled.

---

OOC: ​

​

 

[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] Swansong... dead... a murderer, she had committed a crime, something Granitepelt had been unsuccessful so many moons prior when Snowlark had only been a kit and Chilledstar stood as leader and Smogmaw... deputy. A sharp breath came wavering from his chest before looking to the others, all else stunned in this revelations. A grimace appearing on Snowlark's face, yellow gaze drifting around while he couldn't believe what he was witnessing, what he was hearing. He had been close to Swansong when he was a kit, an apprentice, and a warrior.

Though he had doubt the choice of her deputyship, he still thought everything would be okay, and that this would not happen. She tried to defend, to justify her reason meanwhile Ternstar had been quick to take care of a threat. His friend... someone he looked to... a traitor through and through, and yet how can the former leader that served many moons as Chilledstar's deputy turn out to be like this? He couldn't understand.

His emotions were confusing in the moment, she was his friend, how could she do such a thing? And seeing the horrified faces of those around him, Sharpshadow declared the rightful throne of deputyship... there was too much going on in this moment and he did not know what to think of it. There will be no vigil for Swansong just like there wasn't one for Basilshower. Yet what will they do to the pale warrior? They couldn't just toss her to be crow-food, could they?

"A murderer... a traitor..." he whispered while looking at Swangsong's pale body laying still on the ground while he winces slightly even at his own words. He felt disbelief for what this was and he couldn't understand how someone so... delicate who had been nothing but a kind soul turn out to be like... this,
it felt that all he knew had perished into the shadows. Would Starclan accept her? Or turn their backs on the forner acclaimed deputy.

❄

SnowlarkㅤBIOGRAPHYㅤ/ㅤTOYHOU.SE
✦ Trans FTM (he / him)ㅤ/ㅤBi-sexual/Demi-Romantic
✦ㅤ20 moons oldㅤ/ㅤAges on the 3rd
✦ㅤLead Warrior of Shadowclan for 6 moons
✦ㅤHailfreckle x Mudsplashㅤ/ㅤN/A
✦ㅤmentoring Frozenpawㅤ/ㅤmentored by Mirestar
✦ "Speak" ❄ Thoughts
✦ㅤpenned by Rynnarooㅤ/ㅤmessage Rinnaroo on discord for plots!

A pale blue sepia lynx long-haired tom where the majority of his body is covered in white, pale yellow eyes that are normally unreadable by most. His sole blue ear was nicked from an accident that happened to him as an apprentice, something he carries with honor. Snowlark is considered strange by most due to his usual "stoic" tones underlined by his immaturity at times, be it pulling pranks on others, to making out-of-pocket jokes or moments of outbursts of anger, Snowlark is strange but isn't one afraid to be blunt and tell one how it is.