camp I MISS YOU — prayer

[BLAZESTAR]

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XXXXXThe night is seasonally cool, the sky cloudless and clear. Silverpelt gleams, each star like a droplet of milk spilled from a cat’s mouth. Blazestar emerges from his den, his pelt redolent with elderberry and spiced with pine rather than the yellowcough that had weakened him. Though the leader looks thin, with his fur dull still, his eyes are bright and his expression solemn. He pads into the center of their camp, flicking his tail for whomever is still awake to join him. “StarClan,” he murmurs, blue eyes bruise-dark as they lift to the heavens. “I beseech you to protect those who have left us at your behest. Take care of them. Guide their paws in the mountains and bring them home to us soon.”

XXXXXHe thinks, absurdly, not of his former mate and the mother of his children—not of his deputy, of his lead warrior, of little Cherrypaw—but first and foremost, he thinks of Bobbie. The frown tugs at his mouth when he remembers how she’d left, her warmth extinguished and turned to skittishness in the wake of his formalities. He had hurt her feelings, but he had never figured out why—and he sends a silent prayer to StarClan to assist him with that, too. “Guide my Clanmates’ paws, but protect the mother of my kits, too,” he murmurs, remembering the way her black pelt has swished against the thick-furred body of another ThunderClanner.

XXXXXMiraculously, now, after he has met StarClan again in death, now that he has seen the face of his ancestors once more, his bitterness has faded. Blazestar’s heart has healed, and although what remains is battle-scarred and toughened from all he and Little Wolf had endured, he wants nothing more than for her to be happy in the Clan she’d chosen.

XXXXXPart of him wonders—is it wrong to want that for himself, truly? Is it not StarClan’s will that Little Wolf find happiness in ThunderClan, and him in SkyClan? He knows what happiness looks like for him, now—it wears a thick, fluffy pale tabby pelt, and its eyes are tender as sage leaves. He blinks starlight from his eyes, imagining the ghost of a small warrior at his side, whispering of LionClan in one golden ear. “Bring Bobbie home to us. To... to me,” he murmurs, his voice faint but audible to anyone who might be nearby.

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[DAWNGLARE]

While tucked inside his den. Dawnglare hears the voice of his old friend.

This sleepless night of his is not the first. And for some reason — as strained breath surrounds him, and does its best to drown out the lull of Blazestar’s voice — he thinks that it may not be the last, either.

It takes him back to how life was, before he had accepted this fate of his. The day was full of little more, and rarely less than the sound of his voice; chatter between friends, as they had been. Valentine might’ve shown him a budding thing that blossomed, showing the fruits of its labor boldly, and with flourish. He might have brought him a twoleg contraption that whistled sweetly into his ears. They might’ve lied in the grass; or tiptoed their way toward the forest, only to sit on the cusp of it all and gossip of the horrors that lay just within.

How long has it been? Long enough for it to grasp them fully, at least. Long enough to drive Blazestar to prayer, more than once.

He would not be seen, aside from the fox - tuft of a tail peeking from the burrow. Blazestar would likely not know that he prays beside him, a paw touched reverently to the ground. He wishes the journeying home, not for the sake of the sick, but so they may be safe, as well.

Dawnglare has never seen his position as a matter of choice. He had thought that he could be here, and Blazestar could’ve always remained Blaise if he had wanted to. Why subject yourself to this sort of life, if you truly had a choice? He would never have chosen this. No, he does not think so.

He listens in silence. And he hears the weight of that voice, as it wishes life everlasting upon those within his care.

Perhaps in his own incomprehensible way, Blaise had been called to this, as well.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 9.16.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

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• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 56 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  You may find him kinder to others than is typical, exhausted from the yellowcough blight and heart heavy in a way he has never felt.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[DOGBITE]

✦ CW starvation and nausea

Exhaustion and starvation had taken their toll on Dogbite. The last few days had been a torment of sickness, with a churning stomach and a constant feeling of dread. He had tried to eat, but each attempt was met with intense pain. Causing him to roll around and disturb his denmates throughout the last few nights.

Fed up with having to trail back and forth between nest and dirt place. The scarred cat decided on a middle ground. Out in the clearing of camp where it was quiet and cool enough to ease the pain in his guts.

Now, as he lay still on the cool floor of Skyclan camp, the rhythmic cadence of the leader's prayer washed over them. It was the closest thing to solace he had experienced in these trying times. With their eye closed, he let the words and chilled night sky pull him into an uneasy rest.

White and cinnamon paws tucked beneath him, head resting on the hard ground, just a rabbit's hop away from Blazestar. The tom's last words went unheard as Dogbite's weary body finally relented, granting them the respite of much-needed sleep.

The circular form of Dogbite remained peaceful with only the occasional twitch of his ears.

•°.⋆ INFO

• ooc ; he has fallen asleep - peaceful power play welcome!
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  ✧ 28 moons old
  ✧ skyclan warrior
  ✧ he/they ; single
  ✧ child of npc x npc
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric

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[LUPINESONG]

❀‿ Since leaving the medicine den, Lupinepaw no longer prayed to Starclan to perform miracles. Of course, the experiences of warriors past and the wisdom of those who watched over them all called for quite a bit of respect. But her own brief time spent in the star-fields brought her into a sobered perspective. They didn't have all the answers, nor could she believe that they had any more semblance of control over the forest than any living cat among them did. They would have to figure out things for themselves, she realized. How intimidating a thought.

However, that didn't stop her from praying. She prayed daily, hourly, as often as her mind circled back upon everyone she had to pray for. Don't die Mom. Don't die Falconpaw. Don't die Cherrypaw. Don't die Crowpaw. Don't die Drowsypaw. Don't die. Don'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdie.... To whom she was praying, she was unsure. All she knew was that she was compelled to do it anyways. Perhaps something out there—something with real power—would listen to her.

She padded quietly behind Blazestar and the rest of those who came to pray, closing her eyes and crouching with her paws beneath her. Her mind was surprisingly empty in this quiet moment, and she opted to let the words of those around her dapple the night air with their devotion. Blazestar spoke with the voice of a man familiar with prayer—someone who knew what it was like to plead for mercy upon his clan and who knew just as well what it felt like when the begging went unanswered. He prayed for the safety of the Skyclanners who journeyed far away in the hopes of finding their medical salvation, but also for the safety of one Thunderclanner as well.

Lupinepaw knew little of the different types of love that existed in this world, and much less of the type of love that drove his prayers. She was aware of the winding, tragic chronicle of the leader's life only in snippets of clan-gossip, pieces here and there hanging in a glimmering, unfinished mosaic of a story. She wondered if she would ever be able to piece together the full picture.

Ears twitched back at the utterance of a familiar name. “Bring Bobbie home to us. To... to me.” Lupinepaw was brought back to her conversation with Spiderpaw—as lighthearted as it had been at the time, how did she feel now when confronted by it so plainly? It seemed inevitable then, that Blazestar would pad after her mother when—Lupinepaw tried not to entertain the matter of ifs—she returned to Skyclan. And why shouldn't he? That was what cats did when they found someone to care about, and it was something to be celebrated when they did. Though, when it was Dandelionwish and Butterflytuft or Howlfire and Coyotecrest, there was nothing that Lupinepaw had to lose in cheering for them. But, did she when it came to Bobbie?

The still-young part of herself fretted over the inevitable loss of maternal attention, adding a mate alongside her already busy paws was a sure recipe for waning attention toward her adolescent children. And of course, they would inevitably have a litter of their own, a gorgeous bundle of gold and pale tabby-dappled infants, and where would that leave her? Of course, she knew enough about her father reading between the lines of careful pauses and quickly pivoted conversations to know that there was a claw wound upon the woman's heart. Did Blazestar know this? Would he care for her enough to heal it? And what about them, would it be for the better if the three shadowy mirrored echoes of cruelty faded into the background with the rest of an unfortunate past?

She should be happy to know someone loved her mother. She knew this.

Not daring to make a sound to disturb the faithful or draw any eyes to her, Lupinepaw would cast a silent prayer of her own—not to Starclan, who she knew had as little control over this as she did. She didn't know who to cast her prayer to, perhaps it was to Blazestar himself. Even still, no one would hear it besides herself.

I pray you mean what you say. And if you do... and if it's true... I pray she won't be hurt in the process.

Lupinepaw rose to her paws once more and slipped silently away into the apprentice's den, she didn't need to be here anymore.

JUST LIKE THAT ⊹₊°❀‿ THE MOON GOES FLAT

• OOC: in and out !
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  — lupinekit . lupinepaw
  — trans she/her. 6mo apprentice of skyclan
  — ??? ; single
  — tall, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
  — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — icon by saturnid, fullbody and chibi by nya
  — penned by eezy

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