sensitive topics HEAVEN IN YOUR EYES [🌒] Skirmish Return


"maybe I'll find where it all fell apart, but I haven't yet"

It had been torture, waiting for his clanmates to return from Skyclan's territory, and though Curlewnose cared for all his clanmates it was Scorchstreak who held his mind's focus. Even with a victory, the tunneller knew that Windclan would not be without injuries. Just how ragged would Scorch be when she returned?

All these questions were answered as soon as Sootstar stumbled into camp on another cat's shoulder. It was as though a bolt of lightning had hit Curlew's chest, watching so many stagger through the gorse supported by the rest of the patrol. Sootstar's words lessened the electric feeling, but the tom still found himself searching for his best friend.

Crimson mingled with her orange, black, and white pelt, but it didn't stop her from going straight to her kits. Curlewnose joined the small gathering, hoping that Scorchstreak wouldn't mind. It brought a smile to his face when Luckykit and Scorchkit ran right to their mother, full of questions and a need for her approval.

It took longer, but Badgermoon joined the small gathering as well, praising his kits and their mother. Curlew stepped back to give the family space, suddenly feeling very out of place. He brushed his tail against Scorchstreak's, purring softly to tell her how glad he was she was mostly unharmed. Before heading to the tunnels, Curlew gave one last look to the family over his shoulder, golden eyes lingering on Badgermoon. The deputy was a good father, and would be a good mate if he ever stopped running from his feelings. Maybe someday…. Curlew shook his head, clearing the thoughts. His time with the deputy had passed, and it was unlikely that the moorrunner would ever be able to love the tunneller as a mate would.

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Rumblekit trails after their littermates, ears pricked upwards and attention torn from their parents as Sootstar announces that Wolfsong will be their new medicine cat. The question of what about Sunflowerpaw? dies unspoken on their lips as they're promptly reassigned to Houndthistle, and the kitten perks up somewhat; he'd be a good mentor. It's probably about time for them to start thinking about them, too - Rumblekit and their littermates would be named apprentices soon after this skirmish.

"WindClan is strong. We'll win every time, especially against those kittypets." They boast in a purr, pressing their pelt to Scorchkit's and turning wide blue eyes up towards Badgermoon as he speaks; but they stray towards Scorchstreak soon enough, practically starry over the ferocious tortoiseshell. "You're amazing, mama."

 
More of her family gathers around her, and Scorchstreak smiles upon each of them in turn. Scorchkit, the kit who bears her name, follows in her brother's pawsteps, pressing herself against the tunneler's leg. For a moment Scorchstreak considers shooing her kits away, making them step back—they will surely be covered in blood after rubbing their fur against hers, and as their mother she knows that the responsibility of washing it away will fall on her shoulders. The joys of being a mother, she thinks, but she would trade this joy for nothing. She has returned to her kits, to her family, and it is a gift to be greeted with such eagerness.

Her ember-coated kit asks whether the enemy she'd fought is dead, and the warrior stiffly shakes her head. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able to kill that disgrace of a warrior. The next time that I see him, he will not be so lucky." It is a disappointment that will weigh on her chest, to have been matched in strength and skill by a SkyClanner. Her daughter butts in on her assurance to Luckykit—I'll fight every SkyClanner!—and Scorchstreak lowers her muzzle, aiming to lick the top of her lookalike kit's head as well.

Curlewnose's approach is met with a friendly flick of her tail. He's been at her side all this time, through pregnancy and birth and now a return bloodied and beaten from this skirmish. And he greets her so gently, purring and brushing his tail against her—she purrs in return, hoping that he'll stick around in the aftermath of the battle. But nearly as soon as he's arrived, her friend slips away once again, heading for the tunnels. The yellow-eyed cause for his retreat is telling their kits that she is not to be trifled with, and for a moment Scorchstreak considers showing Badgermoon what it means to be trifled with. But she's tired and sore, and she's not about to pick a fight with the deputy. Besides, she does not think Badgermoon has been purposefully malicious in his actions, in his treatment of her best friend. He's simply… unintelligent. She brushes off the black and white tom with a sigh, even as Rumblekit joins their littermates in pressing against her legs, voicing their own conviction and telling her that she's amazing. "Thank you, sweetheart," she murmurs, aiming to gently press her nose against their forehead.

Looking across each of her kits in turn, the calico straightens, attempting to shift her weight to alleviate the tugging at the worst of her injuries. "You'll all be apprenticed soon. It will not be long before you are defeating our enemies." It is not hope that colors her tone; it is certainty. There is no other option. One day, her kits will return to WindClan bloodied from battle, and she will greet them with all the joy that their victory deserves.
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