got the wrong insides — stargazing

[GRAVELSNAP]

If Gravelsnap has learned anything from the raid on RiverClan's ramshackle camp, it's that WindClan is better when they work together. Warriors, apprentices, lead warriors, all focused on their own opponents, but they had managed to make the fish-eating cats suffer all the same. Together, as one, WindClan's attack had taken one of RiverClan's warriors in retaliation for the loss of one of their own. Hyacinthbreath still lives, of course, but Gravelsnap had heard about Cicadastar's rampage at the gathering. A dead warrior on both sides—at least there was a price paid, even if it won't bring back Juniperfrost. But the point is, WindClan's raid was coordinated; they sent in one group first, to wear down the other clan's forces, and the second group had to lie in wait until the perfect opportunity arose to burst forth.

Perhaps, if he can work well with his more annoying clanmates, then it doesn't matter whether he gets along with them. But wouldn't it be better to at least offer an olive branch, rather than shove everyone else away? There will be no such offers for those he utterly despises (Dazzlepaw and Adderpaw come to mind) but he can manage to communicate peacefully with some of the new apprentices.

The black and white warrior sleeps fitfully, their mind racing with thoughts of peace interspersed with violence. In the moment, they thought they had ruined the RiverClanner's eye like Weaselclaw had done to one of RiverClan's lead warriors. They had been satisfied, glad that they had done some significant damage; looking back on it now, they understand that they got greedy, overconfident. They paid for it, in the form of a paw that doesn't properly support their weight anymore. The ache is mostly gone, now, when they aren't putting weight on it, and as long as they keep it lifted off the ground they are still able to hunt and patrol somewhat normally. They can only hope that it will heal, because it's been injured for this long already.

Heaving a sigh, the young warrior drags himself from his resting place, giving up on sleep entirely. It's just no use. He limps—rather loud in his shuffling steps—from the camp with a grunt, putting the gorse wall to his back when he steps outside. The moon is nowhere to be found, missing from the sky, and the stars each shine brighter in its absence. There are hundreds, thousands, probably more of them up there, and Gravelsnap tilts their chin up to face them in full. They wonder if their mother is up there. They wonder if it matters. She is dead; they may miss her some days, but they belong here, with WindClan, with their father, and StarClan cannot change that.
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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[SUNNVAR]

Sunstride is as comfortable in violence as he is in peace. Both a heavy, comforting blanket across his shoulders– his body sings with the joy of exertion, the familiar echoes of battles long past, and in peace he may settle some, admire all that he has fought for. In this battle, he had returned from the fight to see all that he had grown to care for — this camp, these nests, the cats who had been too young or too wounded to accompany them — and it all became a reason that he would do it again. Despite the wounds that still break through the dams of scabbing when he moves the wrong way, there is no question that he would take to such tactics again, as soon as it should matter. It does not tire him the way that it might a better man. Instead, he sinks to the certainty of this decision, and sleeps well.

It is only Gravelsnap's lingering limp that draws him from his rest. He has always been a light sleeper: easy to rest and easy to rise is the surest way to stay alive when there are none to watch your back, and while the safety of WindClan's hollow has lessened his restlessness, it has not cured him of it entirely. His head lifts from his nest. Wolfsong, nearby, is roused with an instinctual flick of his paw. Perhaps he is wary after Periwinkle's endeavor, or perhaps he is simply worried for a young warrior that he had grown to care for, in his own way. He pulls himself from the soft, comforting rest and follows behind. Not terribly closely (he worries briefly that he might lose him to the gorse wall as he presses through), only to find that the dark, splotched warrior sits there in silence, his gaze turned to the sky.

WindClan turns to StarClan with regularity, it would seem, and yet he never tires of the pinpricks of light or the thoughts that they inspire. Quietly, he murmurs, "Do you ask them for advice?"

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. thirty-six moons old. lead warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
  —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

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[GRAVELSNAP]

Another presence settles at their side, a familiar one. A warrior who Gravelsnap has grown to trust, in a way—to admire, even. They recognize Sunstride before he speaks, and when he finally does they don’t hesitate to turn dull hazel eyes upon him. He asks whether they ask the stars, or the star cats, for advice.

The look that flits over Gravelsnap’s face is one that screams I can’t believe I have to suffer such a fool. They’ll give the older tom the benefit of the doubt, though; he’s likely exhausted, because it is well past the time when any sane cat would be awake. "Um." They tilt their head, regarding Sunstride with clear bemusement. "They’re dead." The lead warrior does know that the cats of StarClan are dead, right? Though he doesn’t come from the original colonies, those who fought in the great battle that kickstarted Sootstar’s reign, so perhaps he truly isn’t aware.

"They would be the worst to ask advice from." And not only because they can’t respond, they don’t add. Why would they want advice from cats who are dead, cats who aren’t all of WindClan? They have already lived their lives, so why should they dictate any choice that Gravelsnap makes? And what if a RiverClanner—the price for the river cats’ treachery, the warrior of their own who had died in the raid—were the one to swoop in, to advise them?

Is that what happened to Dandelionwish, what caused him to turn on his own clan? Is that what will happen to Vulturemask?

They feel something tighten in their chest at the thought. The idea of turning his claws upon a clanmate is not one that brings them comfort any longer. Even if the snake of a healer might deserve their claws. "Do… do you ask them for advice?" It’s asked with blatant judgment laced into their tone, but not with malice. They hold no ill feelings toward Sunstride; they respect the tom, and they respect any choices that he makes. They will raise a brow if he admits to asking dead cats for advice, though.
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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[VULTUREMASK]

" It's because they are dead we should seek our guidance from them. They know things we down here never could even dream of understanding." Something he hadn't understood about until recently so he obiviously couldn't blame Gravelsnap for his ignorance to think so little about their gods. They had powers they never would have down here. Just look how easily they could call forward a storm and then struck them all down with lightening. If they wished for it he was sure they could set this whole world on fire and burn it all down something he actually would have enjoyed to watch. Burn all of the vermin's down to the ground. The world would be a better place without them.

" They have more wisedom then you could comprehend." Vulturemask stared down on the shorter tom who only recently had become a warrior. The medicine cats eyes where like sharp ice as he studied them closely, noticing their untreated paw which they still was limping on all because they where to stubborn to seek his healing paw. Fool. Did they really thought they where deserving enough to join starclan yet?.

" If you even had half of the wisedom starclan has you would have known better then to leave that paw of yours unattended...Lets hope it dosent rot and fall of. " He actually liked that idea of a thought. He wonderd how Gravelsnaps face would look like when he was un unbearable pain. Would he be fearful if his flesh started to rot?. Aha, if only they had let him treat them and a such tragedy might have been unavoided.




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