pafp how the tides are changing || questions about starclan

KITESTORM

i think that your mind is gone
Jul 17, 2024
78
19
8
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Thank you Starclan for this meal... for Starclan's sake... Kite could swear it's all they hear. It makes no sense. They've been around the whole of the territories before, smelled each scent which differentiates the five groups of wild cats. Shadowclan, they'll forever be rotted by the scent of spilled blood... Hell, Kite has even sniffed Duskclan... an acrid scent. Not once have they laid their eyes upon a Starclan. It took several days for Kite to realize that this Starclan was some sort of "diety" to the forest cats. But... why? Kite's done all of the duties required of them and as the sun's heat wanes Kite snatches a mediocre sized squirrel from the fresh-kill pile and glances around shiftily. Clanmates have begun to settle down for the evening to bask in shrinking sunlight to share tongues and prey, exchange stories of their days or reminisce on the past. It is the perfect time to seek out somebody who could answer a question or two burning a hole in their mind.

Dull eyes travel around camp for somebody Kite has already concluded they would like to speak to. Silversmoke. He had returned just days ago, supposedly they had been missing for a while. It was a strange thing to see his reunion with that warrior... Johnnyflame. His name... combines past and present... Kite had heard of Silversmoke before his return, though. They were a former lead warrior... it means he must've been around the clan for quite some time, right? So surely he would have more information on this Starclan than most anyone else.

Kite strides towards Silversmoke once they spot him and they halt just a tail length away, setting the squirrel down at their own small paws so they can speak. Kite murmurs airily, "Hello Silversmoke...." Their small head dips, respectfully, and then they continue, "Would you like to... share this squirrel?" Kite settles down lightly on their haunches in case they're told by Silversmoke to get loss.

Kite twists their short tail in the sand of the clearing and dips their head down to nudge the squirrel towards the silver tom. "I've heard... you've been in Skyclan for quite some time. Could you... advise me on something? I'd like to know what Starclan is...? I've... been quite puzzled to hear so much about them but... also not anything at all." As they speak, their inky face betrays none of this puzzlement they speak of but remains rather dull expect for the squint Kite regards Silversmoke with.



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  • just wait for @SILVERSMOKE
  • black tabby with a slim physique and compact muscles, tags
    38, ages every 21st
    they/them or she/her
    bisexual
    wary to trust
    speech
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 

Reclined in camp, the spotted tabby's eyes hardened somewhat as they settled upon Kite, not quite suspicious of the black tabby, but uncertain. Rumours had reached his black-tipped ears of rogues harassing his home when he had left, with such events occurring, it was difficult to look upon those who formerly held allegiance to nothing and not feel some discomfort. Instead, the tabby offered him a squirrel, and tersely, he began to glance between Kite and the prey animal, hunger gripping his belly and climbing upwards. First to rise and last to eat, that is how it had been for some time, but such self-sacrifice felt pointless while food was plentiful. Eventually, Silversmoke nodded, chewing on the squirrel's leg for a spell before passing it back to Kite. As he chewed, the other asked him a question, one that caused his head to tilt upwards. There was a shift in his expression, something more cynical appeared, despairingly so.

"What is there to say about something so present it encompasses all of clan life? There aren't many words to describe it, it simply... is." For better, and for worse. Blind faith in one stronger than yourself could make you weak, expectant on another entity to solve your problems, yet, such devotion also had its perks - a code that one could live by and multiple chances for leaders to do right by their clan. StarClan was neither good nor bad, a miraculous shade of grey he dared not think about for too long lest he consider that he would meet many enemies of SkyClan when it was his time to go. Eternity seldom felt like enough time to learn how to forgive. "Just after I joined, there was a battle between the two colonies of the forests, the spirits of those who died that day were strong enough to create StarClan itself and deliver a warning upon the fighters that they must divide between five groups to survive. Since then, it has watched over the groups... not just one cat, but the collected memory of hundreds, probably." Truthfully, he didn't know what exactly spoke to the medicine cats or told them what they could or couldn't say at gatherings, but he was comfortable in not knowing.

"Would you like to know more?" He stole a gentle bite of squirrel.

 
cats gain the ability to float towards the sky after they die, or something like that. it’s how she interpreted it, because she struggled to wrap her head around the concept. death is a topic she prefers to avoid (and even more so, with her ailing mother) thinking about. either way, there is a sixth clan past the clouds, and the atmosphere. starclan, duskpool named it in his gravely tone. crochet thinks you’re supposed to believe in them, because they’re all mighty and give leaders their nine lives. but, she doesn’t really believe in them much, and that’s okay. she assumes.

crochet doesn’t really care for kite, either. all they’ve done is cause problems at the border and when confronted, blabbed on and on about how sorry they were. still, it’s important to learn about the clans, so she will ride the tabby’s coattails with questions. the lilac molly practically slides into view.

"i would like to know more. a bunch of spirits emerged out of cats? that’s funky. do you guys ever get to see ‘em?" silvermoke didn’t cross her mind much, the guy disappeared for awhile after she joined, and clanmates were upset about it. he’s kinda tall. "do you think they ever get bored? i would."
 
Ah, StarClan. The older tom has heard that word being thrown around from numerous SkyClanners— it was not surprising to the smoke that SkyClan seems to have their own set of beliefs. It sounds nothing like the belief Copia was raised into— they seem to look up to their ancestors who no longer walk this mortal plain, believing that their ancestors are watching, guiding, them from the stars. When he looks upon the night sky, he does not see these ancestors his clanmates seemingly speak of. He sees bright, burning stars that are unreachable, that bring just enough 'light' into the darkness of the night. Copia never thought much of the afterlife before stumbling upon SkyClan— is his brother Terzo in some sort of afterlife with Nox? Or is there nothing in store for them?

The black smoke crouches nearby, his ears pricked forward as he finishes up his meal; a small mouse. He doesn't recognize the two individuals, but the first one approaches the silver tom— and while they offer to share their prey with the other warrior— and they ask about StarClan. He blinks as he listens to Silversmoke's explanation, the spirits of a great battle formed "StarClan" and told the living cats to form five groups? Another cat slips into view and asks another question; a good question at that too. "It certainly sounds, eh, strange to me," Copia comments after the lilac molly, and he glances over at Silversmoke. "Are we, eh, required to believe in StarClan?" He can only hope not, that would certainly be an issue, heh.


  • 84816042_5g6XM8E1aT85s8Y.png


    artwork by me
  • Copia
    warrior
    33 moons
    awkward
    clumsy
    experience: shadowing
    backstory: [HYPERLINK]
    biography: [HYPERLINK]
    pixel by nopeita <3
    cisgender male [he / him]
    eyes: green & white
    pelt: black smoke with low white
    fur length: long
    parents: sorella and nihil (rogue npcs)


 
✦​
It meant much to Kite when Silversmoke eventually accepts their offering of the squirrel, they worried they'd be viewed as some sort of tainted object, following the visit from their siblings. The squirrel is passed back and Kite leans down to tear some flesh away, swallowing quickly and without chewing much- Kite is still felt uneasy eating with so many strangers around. As they eat daintily, their ears tip forward attentively, hanging onto each word spoken by Silversmoke.

It simply.... is. This concept of Starclan is strange to Kite and they wish to learn as much as they can about this topic- about the idea of cats absorbed into the stars and watching the five clans. As Silversmoke quickly recounts the first appearance of felines appearing after their deaths, Kite leans forward. They're thoroughly engrossed by this narrative like a kit during a bedtime story. The tabby hardly notices Crochet's arrival and when the molly speaks, Kite immediately straightens and clears their throat.

"Strange... yes," Kite agrees with Copia, eyes flickering on the smoke tom that joined Skyclan before themselves. Silversmoke asks if Kite, and they guess Crochet too (as they have interrupted) has any questions. Kite does, they have many but are unsure how to voice each one. "So has... Starclan ever spoken to the clans... after that battle? Is that the only evidence of their existence?


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  •  
  • black tabby with a slim physique and compact muscles, tags
    38, ages every 21st
    they/them or she/her
    bisexual
    wary to trust
    speech
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 

His eyes traveled to Crotchet, then to Copia, then once more to Kite, the squirrel hastily pushed away and left in the black tabby's care. An uncomfortable bristle shot across his spine - more and more he must've sounded like an elder, someone who enjoyed this storytelling. There was an acrid taste in his mouth, SkyClan's achievements had always been more important to him, yet no one seemed interested yet, instead, asking him questions about things that he himself did not have all the answers to. 'I can't blame them... if I hadn't seen it for myself... then...' Few could claim to be more cynical than the spotted tabby. Rising to his haunches, Silversmoke mewed. "I've only known them to reveal themselves to leaders and medicine cats." A leader nor a medicine cat, the tom was not. He'd never had such ambitions, only seeking to do what was best for SkyClan - only seeking someone else to guide him so that he may make those fine choices. he supposed, if there was no one else to direct him save the stars themselves, then he would be bound by duty to serve them. For now though, he could only serve what he saw; the living, the beautiful, deserved living.

Crotchet asked if they'd ever get bored, and he did not (or rather could not) entertain the idea. It raised too many questions about his own death, whether he could stand by and watch his clan suffer hardships and be too far away to do anything about it. Panic appeared and disappeared within a blink at the notion - perhaps it would be a better fate to not have an afterlife at all than to spend an eternity feeling unfulfilled. He was all too grateful for Copia's intrusion, head-turning swiftly towards the other. "SkyClan's always been different from the other clans. I'm sure it's mandatory in them places, but here? I believe it'd be fine. Not ideal, but not a cause for concern. He'd never known any cats to outright reject the idea of StarClan, had it happened when he was a Lead Warrior though, he didn't know if he could be so calm. "Mousebrained, but fine." They followed StarClan's code and a leader approved by StarClan - not worshipping was one thing, but not believing felt... off. Incredulous.

Kite allowed him to expand upon his opinion and with almost no hesitation, the spotted tabby took it. "I have seen our leaders die countless times and have their breaths returned to them, I've seen lightning strikes and thunderstorms too perfect to be anything but our ancestor's wrath. They don't speak to us with words, but they expect us to listen to these things, to prove that they are present even if they do not want to speak to us." His ears momentarily flattened, as if he realised he'd opened them up to scrutiny... (opened himself up to have to think critically). Stars, it was so much easier when cats just asked him about battle strategies instead. Insecurity settled in his gut, his whiskers twitching. "Look, I'm probably not the best cat to talk to about them, I've only ever been able to be loyal to one thing at a time," he admitted in a huff.

 
| Bat had been loitering nearby, his ears angled towards the modest accumulation of cats curious about the inner workings of this illusive StarClan. He had to admit the concept of souls long since transcended remaining amongst their living companions for the sake of what he assumed to be dutiful loyalty was intriguing. But this was not what made him inch slowly closer, rather the string of questions put forth by the crowd pulled in by Silversmoke's explanation- although, strangely, he seemed just as confused as the rest of them.



Bat had a question of his own, he realized- resting upon the tip of his tongue and slowly pushing its way forward, so restless in its desire to be put forth that Bat nearly allowed it to pour from his already parted jaws before he had positioned himself into the other cat's range of hearing. "Oi, preacher." His tone was hardened with a strange kind of desperation as he called upon Silversmoke. "Yer...StarClan- the blokes what end up on the sharp end of the cutter- is 't just fer yer poncy gang of clan nutters, or..." He paused, allowing himself a violent swallow, his jugular visibly tensing under the strain. "...Can...a-anyone...get there- 't that...haven?" His verdant eyes shone with an uncharacteristic display of anxiety. There was an unspoken reason behind his eagerness for an answer- for this particular question to even be presented to himself and those around him. He had never been one to ponder over what was beyond the physical world, it was not something he had ever considered unless he was staring death in the face. Life a short life but a worthwhile one, a motto he tended to stick to- until his life became much less worth living. It was partially due to their departure, for they were what made every hellish experience here in reality so much easier, so much more fulfilling. They were here no longer, the only time they could ever return to him being in the fleeting temporality of his dreams. He found himself willing for some kind of solace- partially for himself, but also for them- if he knew for certain that perhaps they had moved onto a place much better than this one, StarClan or otherwise, maybe it would relieve him of the unbearable weight of guilt and regret that threatened to crush him from all sides- inside and out- every long, insufferable day.​
 
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