duskclan I DO NOT HAVE WINGS, LOVE — rainstorm

[RUMBLERAIN]

The thawing scrublands have begun to feel like a home of sorts. Though the wildflowers don't stretch all the way up to the small hollow DuskClan calls home, they're very beautiful from a distance. The downpour above them makes it hard to see but Rumblerain regards them now, sodden fur plastered to their skin as they watch in the direction of WindClan. The stems bob in the rain, pinks and blues and white and yellow beginning to wilt in the end of the blooms' lifespans.

It's their twelfth moon now. Rumblerain should have spent it with their kin, watching Luckypaw become a warrior in earnest. They just can't go back, but they feel ... untethered. Like they don't have anything to fight for. Nobody to fight for. Redheart isn't here. Their kin isn't here. Nostalgia sweetens their memories of Scorchstreak's family, leaving a bittersweet taste in their mouth. Have they made a mistake? Had Sootstar led them astray? Was it the fault of her successor, naming Granitepelt her second in the final fight?

They're alone.

Not physically, though. Rumblerain's tail flicks, scattering droplets. In the rain, they don't hear the quiet pawsteps that come up next to them.​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

“Something troubling you, Rumblerain?” A voice like scarred, flattened velvet comes from the shadows. Lean-eyed, stark-bodied, Granitepelt detaches himself from the brush and approaches his warrior on lofty paws. Despite his exile, the ShadowClanner in him still guides his movements, skulking, looming. The sky is gray as his pelt, thick with stormclouds, and the wind tastes of rain. His whiskers drip as he shakes his fur out, his gaze shifting from Rumblerain’s masked visage to what they’re looking at.

Wildflowers bend in the tempest, WindClan wildflowers. Granitepelt’s eyes narrow. “They have forgotten you, you know.” His tail lashes; water flicks from the tip. “Just as my kin have forgotten me. We are your only family now.” To think of Starlingheart bleeding in snow—to think of Flintpaw, Nettlepaw, his children, his kin—to think of Siltcloud, still out there somewhere, seeking nothing—it’s enough to set his nerves aflame.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 21 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[RUMBLERAIN]

Even outside of the pouring rain, Granitepelt is hard to track. It's the former ShadowClanner in him, they know, stealthy paws and a predisposition to the darkest fragments of their hastily claimed territory. They know better than to mention it to him, though. He's hard to predict enough as it is, and Rumblerain isn't inclined to test the limits of his patience. Their silence likely speaks volumes in answer to his question, especially when he follows their gaze. They've forgotten you. It's harsh, and they can't help their wince - but it's true. Rumblerain had gone forgotten while they were still a WindClanner, why should they expect any memorial now? They're a traitor - just like Badgermoon, they think with a weak sense of irony. If nothing else, even moons on, they're still their father's kit.

"You're right." They admit, turning their eyes towards his paws. They don't meet his gaze immediately, but it's sheepish when they do. He's several moons their senior, and they've never felt as such so acutely as they do now. DuskClan is the closest thing they have to kin. Granitepelt is just lucky that Ghostpaw had come with them. "... Do you wish they'd come with you, Granitepelt?"
​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

He cannot know the history that plagues Rumblerain’s heart, that another black-masked cat had been cast away as a traitor to Sootstar—though he knows of Badgermoon’s disownment, he’d never known he’d sired the blue-eyed warrior before him. Does treachery run in one’s veins, racing through their blood? Ghostpaw, in the end—the detested she-kit—she’d been the only one of his kin to follow him to DuskClan. Granitepelt mulls over Rumblerain’s question, and he dips his head after a few moments, his voice losing it’s fiery edge.

“I asked my sons to come with me,” he murmurs. “They were not safe in ShadowClan—none of my kin would be, after this. I begged their mother—I got on my belly and crawled to her, groveled at her paws, and she spat in my face.” Unfathomable darkness gathers in emerald eyes, and his lip curls with derision. “The she-cat I’d known since we were in the nursery together—the mate I’d loved for many moons—the mother of my children—she forsook me. There is no greater betrayal.”

He tilts his face, eyeing Rumblerain with interest. “Did you ask your kin to come with you?” The painted calico warrior who served as one of Sunstar’s most loyal soldiers is the young cat’s mother, he knows this through Sootstar, but what of their littermates? Their loved ones?

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 21 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

​

 

[RUMBLERAIN]

Dark ears fold back at the tale of woe Granitepelt spins them, sympathy flashing in pale eyes. They piece together that Ghostpaw must have been the only she-kit, for her sire to ask her brothers to join them. But to be betrayed by his mate like that is heartbreaking in its own right. Chilledstar must be horrible for Granitepelt to fear for his kin. As much as they think him manipulative, a snake that wormed his way to Sootstar's heart in order to strike from her turned back, at least Rumblerain has no such fears of Sunstar's WindClan. "I'm sorry."

At the question, turned around and set upon fragile shoulders, Rumblerain shakes their head mutely. They think not first of their kin, but of Redpaw again. He'd be a warrior now, wouldn't he? He must have forgotten them by now, too. Behind him in Rumblerain's thoughts sit the murky shapes of their kin, and with a jolt they realise they can't remember the exact murmur of Scorchstreak's meow anymore.

"... My sire is dead." It takes a while for them to speak, eyes narrow as they try to get their thoughts in order. How much does Granitepelt know of their kin? "A traitor. He was chased out of WindClan, and Sootstar said my littermates and I were not to be treated differently for his actions." They remain vague on who he is, feeling awkward about the idea. They don't know what Sootstar's final deputy thinks of her second. "When Scorchstreak and two of my littermates were chosen to retrieve the lungwort, I fell out of favour with her kin. I don't know why; I think it's because I'm not a tunneler like my brother, and most of Scorchstreak's kin are. I- and when they got back, I just ... wasn't there anymore. The only time they ever looked at me after was when Sootstar named me Rumblerain. I earned it a full moon early for my loyalty and my perseverance."

​