camp HERE AGAIN | WAKING UP

✦  .   ˚ .   He stirs as if waking from a terrible dream. Whatever it was that Berryheart forced into his maw a lifetime ago had done its job– finally, his lungs felt clearer and his head not so fuzzy. There's sunlight streaming into the medicine cat's den, warming the earth and the very edges of his nest. He can smell the bitter herbs and hear his clanmates in the distance. Maybe Berryheart himself, too, not so far. His head lifts at the same time that his mind fully clears. It is immediately the worst thing he has ever felt.

Something– something he'd heard, or felt, he doesn't know what it means. Where it came from. But there is a deep aching sense of loss, and he seeks assurance that it was nothing more than a nightmare. "Berryheart?" It hurts. Disuse. Pain. The memories of forcing himself to ShadowClan camp and collapsing, of watching the others die. Hearing them wail. "Berry, did they come back? Was Little Wolf–" Dread, heavy and cold. "She was with them, wasn't she?" The whispers were nightmares. Delirium.
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  • OOC. tagging @BERRYHEART but not pafp! anyone who's in or near the den could overhear him.
  • ✦  .   ˚ .  DUSKPAW. HE - HIM OR THEY - THEM. APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN, NEARING WARRIORHOOD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ———
    55613602_gyytUHFbTl2Funb.png
    ——  a lanky apprentice with mostly dark brown fur that fades just slightly near the chest, throat, and ears, while the tip of their tail burns with the bright orange tabby flame. his eyes are a deep, rich amber-brown, seeming red, often somewhat critical and cautious but not unkind in expression. he is not terribly tall, but his shoulders are broadening with age and training.
    ✦ BLAZESTAR x LITTLE WOLF. LITTERMATE TO SKYPAW, PART OF HOWLINGFAM. MENTORED BY NIGHTBIRD. DOES NOT KNOW ABOUT HIS SKYCLAN HERITAGE. —
  • "speech"
 
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The cure returned but the cost was heavy, she might even consider it too heavy if not for Duskpaw languishing in the medicine cat den. Her younger brother, along with Skypaw they were the last legacy left behind from Little Wolf and a sudden fierce surge of protectiveness rises in her chest as she passes the den and overhears him speaking, calling for the mother she knows will not be answering. No one had told him because he had only just begun to feel well enough to not be drifting into constantly sleep and she knows the blow will be softened to spare him heart ache, she knows no one will tell him the truth of it, of what was taken from them. Moonwhisper decides its her duty then, to keep him safe from those who will lie and coddle him. Those who would soften him.
"She's dead." Her voice cracks, spiderweb ice splinters over a frozen pool, "She died in the mountains, saving a SkyClan apprentice because SkyClan can not even train their cats to be capable enough to save themselves." The many fools who crossed the border, the kittypets mewling for respect when they couldn't even fight. She'd seen the ones who left that night at the gathering, she knows their faces, the collar wearing and pathetic lot of them. When she finds out which apprentice had caused this she was going to give them the assessment of a lifetime.
"Our mother deserved better than to die for kittypet blood."

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  • 60846013_mcsSS02q03TbaFs.png
    Moonwhisper
    —⊰⋅ Warrior of ThunderClan
    —⊰⋅ She/Her
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ LH Tortiseshell point w/ice blue eyes

 
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I SEE A SONG OF PAST ROMANCE — Hailstorm returned to camp with a squirrel clamped around his jaws and forest debris covered his snowy coat, his eyes empty as he finds himself distracted in his own thoughts. The large tom dropping the squirrel onto the pile as a pink tongue swiped across his maw in an attempt to clean it, he had nearly lost the squirrel when he had fallen during his hunt and the memory of it makes his fur feel hot. The sound of a voice coming from Berryheart's den is enough to make his ears prick forward, it takes a heartbeat for him to recognize the voice of Duskpaw and how he asks if Little Wolf had returned with the journeying cats, and it begins to hurt once more. The memory flashing fresh in his mind of her broken bleeding body and he feels the bile rise in his throat before swallowing bitterly, his gaze focusing on the sight of Moonwhisper and her voice is frigid, sharp like ice as she speaks to her younger littermate about Little Wolf's death.

How her life had been wasted on saving a Skyclan apprentice, Hailstorm feels a frown forming on his maw knowing that he should probably be upset that Cherrypaw's actions were reckless and had costed the life of his best friend, his mate, and yet he had never felt resentment for the young molly despite how much it hurt. A paw draws him forward cautiously as he speaks carefully and almost numbly "Little Wolf died a hero. She would've saved anyone regardless if they are of kittypet blood or not." Moonwhisper's hurting from the loss of her mother and she's bitter, she had every right to be and Hailstorm would not coddle her lest he wishes to be impaled by her icy words. He turns his gaze upwards to the skies then continues in a more gentle tone with his voice ready to crack under the feelings that were resurfacing and threatening to drown, overwhelm him once more "An eagle had grabbed the apprentice and like a Lionclan warrior, she fought bravely even if it had cost her... Her life."

He dared not utter Cherrypaw's name not wishing for the hot tempered Moonwhisper to hunt down the other molly with her ire and wrath, Hailstorm will refer to her simply as the apprentice to keep her safe... For now. It would have to be torn from his dead jaws, he'd remain quiet. He's more relieved at the fact that Duskpaw had not succumbed to yellowcough and Little Wolf's efforts had not been in vain, the sepia tom silently thanking Starclan for it.

  • Untitled243_20231014160843.png
    ✦ longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
    ✦ amab he/him ; other pronouns used towards him will confuse him
    ✦ 49 moons old
    ✦ bisexual demiromantic; mates with little wolf
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    ✦ semi-difficult in combat; relies on strength, his large size, and wits
    ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed
 



Duskpaw feeling better is news that, under normal circumstances, Burnstorm would be delighted to hear. It is the reason why his mother had left, after all. For him. For them. If Duskpaw pulled through it would mean that his mother had not died for nothing, that she could be content in the stars knowing that her son lived on. But what he was not looking forward to was having to look his little brother in the eyes, having to tell him that their mother was not coming back and watch him go through the pain that he himself had felt only a short week ago when he had heard the news. The pain would be raw, a fresh wound reopened, but he was fully prepared to do it.

It would seem, however, that fate had other ideas. When he sees Moonwhisper suddenly turn into their uncles den he can only assume one thing. His brother was awake, he was up and he would be okay. Any other alternatives are not acceptable in his mind and so it is on heavy paws that he makes his way to the medicine cat's den. When he gets there he stops just in the entrance and, like Hailstorm he listens to his sister explain his mothers death to his brother. What she says take him back though. Hailstorm is quick to remind her of their mothers morals and for a moment, he gives the tom a brief glance Strange how a cat who was not even her kin seemed to know her better than her own flesh and blood. "If you truly think our mother would not have cuffed you over the head for saying such a thing then you truly did not know her at all. You dishonor her memory by saying things like that." he says with a huff, disappointment lacing his voice and eyes narrowed into slits. Did Moonwhisper forget that her own blood was tainted by the very thing she claims to hate?

His attention turns to Hailstorm as he describes what it was that had been his mothers end and suddenly he feels as if he could deflate. Her death had been a brave one, and it was a fitting end he thinks. She had always been so selfless, so ready to throw herself head first into danger in order to protect another, even if it was a cat she barely knew. He nods gratefully in the pale warriors direction, though his face is painted with conflicting emotions.


 

For the first time in a while, his nephew's voice rung out clean and clear, untouched by illness. Relief would have latched onto him much easier had the topic of conversation not immediately hurtled toward his dead sister- sorrowful eyes, though neutral in nature and hard-to-read, found her son. He was not alone in hearing Kindles stir, though- Whispers flocked to meet him, though was not delicate in delivering the truth. Tension pulled the air between two siblings taut, Little-little and Whispers in verbal disagreement about memory.

The tortoiseshell tom's voice was plain and polite. "If you must argue, please do so elsewhere." Berryheart's expression was stiff, stern and grieving. At a time like this he hated nothing more than watching seams split apart, even if he could have anticipated their fraying. All he hoped was that in the sanctuary of his own den, his niece and nephew might allow him that courtesy. To Kindles, he placed a reassuring paw, a wordless apology that the death of his mother was solidified only now at the rebirth of lucidity.
PENNED BY PIN ☾
 
✦  .   ˚ .   The news is still ringing in his head even as more voices compound upon the answer. She's dead. Moonwhisper said it so– so clearly, so simply, and he doesn't quite hear anything else. Were it anyone else, he knows that he would have done more than shut down. Anyone else and he could accuse them of some sick joke, or demand that someone else confirm it. His elder sister is always so forward. Cold. StarClan, why is it so cold? Yellowcough's numbness is back in his lungs, and the fever dream he'd had of dying, of Little Wolf standing above him in mourning — it's back full force, nauseating. He stares off into the depths of the medicine cat's den and yearns for the comfort he used to have here. Why did this have to take everything?

His safety, his strength, his mother. "She shouldn't have gone!" is what he finally shouts, voice cracking. It wasn't an argument. Hopefully Berryheart sees that. He doesn't mean to yell it anyway. Tears well up in his eyes that he scrunches his face against. Moonwhisper's rage and Burnstorm's exhaustion — both of them vie for a place in his numb chest and expel everything else that could be there. "Why did you let her go?" He doesn't know who he's blaming right now. Both of Duskpaw's front limbs lift to press against his skull. One of his ears crushes sideways; his claws flex out to prick delicate skin. There are so many of them. Family. They used to mean everything to him. Now– now. "Skypaw!" His brittle voice breaks through the shout. Was his brother even in camp? "Skypaw– please."
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  • OOC. calling for @skypaw now </3
  • ✦  .   ˚ .  DUSKPAW. HE - HIM OR THEY - THEM. APPRENTICE OF THUNDERCLAN, NEARING WARRIORHOOD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ———
    55613602_gyytUHFbTl2Funb.png
    ——  a lanky apprentice with mostly dark brown fur that fades just slightly near the chest, throat, and ears, while the tip of their tail burns with the bright orange tabby flame. his eyes are a deep, rich amber-brown, seeming red, often somewhat critical and cautious but not unkind in expression. he is not terribly tall, but his shoulders are broadening with age and training.
    ✦ BLAZESTAR x LITTLE WOLF. LITTERMATE TO SKYPAW, PART OF HOWLINGFAM. MENTORED BY NIGHTBIRD. DOES NOT KNOW ABOUT HIS SKYCLAN HERITAGE. —
  • "speech"
 
He trails behind Hailstorm and the other few from the hunting trip, gaze aimless as it is listless. Hailstorm had weeks to compartmentalize the death of Little Wolf, he and his siblings a week - and now Duskpaw, minutes. Skypaw almost refuses to see his littermate, too afraid to see him wasting away instead of thriving once more. He feels StarClan cruel enough already that watching his brother pass would be of no surprise; heartbreak, certainly, but run-of-the-mill pain of the past moon.

A mouse is dropped on the fresh-kill pile and he vaguely listens as his brother and sister speak in the medicine den, indignation lacing their icy and burning tones. The snow-colored tom cat that joins them tries to break the news in a softer fashion, to provide Duskpaw with the solace that so many of them are forced to accept. And while Skypaw can agree that his mother is (was) selfless, that does not mean that Moonwhisper is wrong to feel so much anger and pain.

It's a conversation that he, admittedly, does not wish to be a part of. He would rather eat the ticks out of an elder's pelt than watch and listen as his family falls apart without his mother. But he calls for him; Duskpaw, voice hoarse from lack of use, lost, confused, pained, calls for him. Skypaw frowns, his eyebrows knitting together as his heart wretches and tears rush to his eyes. He does not weep so readily, however. Not yet.

He changes his pathing to find the medicine den; he offers his uncle, siblings, and Hailstorm a slight incline of his head as a greeting, however says nothing to any of them. His nose seeks the side of Duskpaw's cranium, attempting to nudge his brother's clawed paw away and save him from any unnecessary self harm. He leans close to the other, gaze fallen to his paws.

"I'm sorry, Duskpaw," he whispers, confirming that what all is said is true, even as it bleeds his heart so. "I'm here, I'm sorry."
 
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