camp IF IT'S ALIVE, IT WILL⛧ moving in

[ASHENFALL]

It'd gotten to the point that it was becoming ridiculous to think that he could hide it anymore, not that he tried very hard... But no one's brought it up to his face yet, so he could thank basic decorum for existing while he lingered a bit longer in the warrior's den. And he could thank Mirepu-Mirestar for not being too pushy on him about patrols in the meantime. Still, he could only hole up in his and Flintwish's shared nest for so long before the inevitable.

Right, he was pregnant. And it was probably the worst timing he could imagine, and dread was swallowing him up every time he thought about it but then it was replaced by guilt because this was a choice he made entirely of his own volition and he should probably be a lot happier because everyone's supposed to be happy about this sort of thing, right? So something was probably incredibly wrong with him but everything was too much and he thought everything would be fine at first and everything was so nice when it was just about pondering kitten names but now the world ended for a second time and he was left with too much and also- a nest to place.

He frowned, tail brushing his mate's side as they lingered near the entrance of the nursery, it sucked that they had to be in separate nests again so soon after they'd just moved together. He'd asked her to come along for moral support, muttering "I think the queens might, like, bite my head off", and if they did, he'd want a witness, at least. Mockingbirdcry and Moltface were ... unsettling on their good days and Ternfrost... Well, anyway...

Ashenfall shuffled his paws, looking cluelessly at the space inside, "Is it... like apprentice den rules...? Or can I just put my nest wherever?"

YOULL ASK WHAT CAN I DO? ⭒☽⛧☾⭒ AND THERE WILL BE NO ANSWER

• OOC: @FLINTWISH is also here but no need to wait ! CAUTION: FRAGILE - HANDLE WITH CARE (will flip if someone is too mean)
• 
• 
  — ashenkit . ashenpaw . ashenfall
  — he/him. 17mo warrior of shadowclan. formerly mentored by smogstar. mated with flintwish.
  — smogstar x halfshade. littermate to applejaw, swansong & garlicheart. older brother of halfsun and laurelgrin
  — a stout, longhaired blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
  — sarcastic, sharp-eyed, sulky, nostalgic, faithful, impulsive, candid, provocative, remorseful
  — "speech", thoughts
  — penned by eezy
  

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[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ 　They've noticed; it's hard not to.

She watches her brother closely, if distantly. His mateship with Flintwish, another grasped by death's touch - a kind and lonesome soul, and a fitting lover for Ashenfall. It brings a smile to her own weary maw, seeing the two together... Practically attached at the hip, spending each night curled together within their nest. Even despite - everything, there is joy in that. Love is a fragile thing in the marshes, petal-thin and rare as a full belly. Ashenfall clings to it like a lifeline, and she cannot say that she doesn't understand why.

She does not know, at first, whether the growing roundness of her brother's belly is a joyful thing. He does not speak of it, and she does not in kind. He draws into himself, away from patrols, days spent in the warrior's den - more lethargic than even her.

Until suddenly, he's not in the warrior's den anymore. He approaches the nursery, and the inevitable comes.

Swansong pads over on quiet paws, wispy fur rustling in the leaf-fall breeze. She hums softly in response to his question. "I would assume... A little more freedom, yes...?" Gentle, hesitant. She treads a circle around the pair, coming to stand at her brother's unoccupied side. She smiles, casts him a mischievous glance. "Ah, besides... I can claw the tongue off of anyone who tells you otherwise, mm?" And then, more gently: "You deserve only the best..."

She moves to press her the side of her head against his flank, for only a moment. "Congratulations, dear brother..." A quiet murmur, delighted and sincere. For all that Ashenfall seems hesitant, for all the tragedy of loss, she cannot help but feel excited. She's going to be an aunt.

‎‎┌── WE FOUND TWO DEAD SWANS ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ AND FILLED THEIR BODIES WITH FLOWERS ──┐‎

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  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG　⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆　she / they, warrior of shadowclan, seventeen moons.
  ➳ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
  ➳ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ➳ halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[scalejaw]

★ There is a burst of something in her wounded heart, looking on at Ashenfall and Flintwish. She had noticed- Smogstar's son hadn't been as present on the patrols, and she had accounted for ensuring it wasn't the same sickness at one point or another- but the rounding belly had relieved any fear there. The feeling in her heart grew as she watched on, the same lethargic warrior standing before the nursery next to his mate.

Eyes shifted from the cat that Swansong approached and spoke to, to that of her former apprentice. She didn't finish Flintwish's apprenticeship, on account of the grisly badger attack wound, but there it was- she knew what she was feeling. Pride, in a simple word. A journey to grow and nurture life. Something she had done once- her own living within the clan now. It is quietly that she approaches, but she does not crowd the new parents. Standing a respectable distance away, she addresses them both.

"Congratulations." She says. "If there is anything either of you need, don't be afraid to ask, yes?" She hums as she looks between either of them. Then, in a quiet aside in a rare tease to Flintwish, "You're going to have to put in double-time with the hunts." Scalejaw felt the grin spread along her face, tail lifting and swaying in amusement.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── MESSES WITH YOUR SANITY ⋅❁⋅ TWISTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AROUND ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• SCALEJAW 🌧 she/her, warrior of shadowclan, sixty five moons.
  ★ A SH black/LH blue smoke chimera with glowering orange eyes, tufts of fur that make her look dragon-akin, and scars that she wears with pride. motherly and stern attitude, with a warm streak for clanmates and a cruel streak for enemies.
  ★ mentoring no one
  ★ padding after no one / / mother to bonerattle, nightwhisper, and shadefall
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Duckshimmer]

*+:｡.｡ Kittens, queen-hood...disgusting, to say the least. Her time spent in the nursery had been nothing short of miserable. Although, of course, Duckshimmer wore her head up high and ensured she looked no less well-put-together, the feat had been a difficult one. Kittens kicking her awake, screaming in her ear, throwing up at the drop of a hat because they keep chewing on her thick fur instead of ripping off her teats - both options equally cruel. She didn't miss being trapped in a den with her gremlin children, although Sneezeduck so absolutely NOT her favorite, mothers shouldn't have favorites, she toooooootally doesn't have favorites was a saint he was still just as much of a biter, kicker, screamer as the rest of them. Not to mention it took her moons to get the scent of milk and kitten breath off her coat even after they'd been dragged into apprenticeship.

Motherhood was not all daisies and rainbows. Perhaps it was her experience alone, especially when it was spent alone, but Duckshimmer can't hide the detestation that gleams in her periwinkle hues when she looks at the nursery. Now, she feels a twinge of sympathy when she looks up to see it's newest resident, Ashenfall, look just as queasy as she had. It made her happy to see he wasn't alone - surrounded on all sides by cats who cared for his wellbeing and the lives he held.

She thinks, then, about Smogstar. It's hard not to, when the only thing separating Ashenfall from being his twin are the cream patches he'd gotten from his mother. What would Smogstar say about all this? He'd been a mess of nerves when he'd held his first meeting as a leader-to-be, she imagined with not a little fondness a newfound fluster in him at the news that he was to become a grandfather.
Trailing her gaze onto Swansong, she feels teeth bite deep into her ribcage as she thinks of yet another milestone their parents aren't able to share.
Duckshimmer's tail instinctively curls around her own belly as she reflects on yet another awful price a mother must pay when bringing life into this world...the horror of not being there when they need you most.

"First night in, I say you deserve a plus one, my dear" Duckshimmer would mew, padding forth with gliding steps. Her eyes trail from Ashenfall's nervous eyes to his protective mate, "you'll need the practice on never having an empty nest again, so why not sleep together tonight?" One ought to cherish the warmth of companionship whenever they can...her gaze trails towards the leader's den, you never know when it'll be the last.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/5/24

• 
  
  
• 
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ⚜ Duckshimmer
  ⚜ DFAB— She/Her — Bisexual
  ⚜ 33 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ⚜ Mother to Singepaw, Swallowpaw and Sneezepaw
  ⚜ Shadowclan — Warrior
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ⚜Physically medium | mentally hard
  ⚜ Attack in bold #ffa98f
  injuries: None currently

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[FLINTWISH]

They'd been so excited. It had come in rosy hiccups at first, a promise of together that could become tangible. It had meant seeing each sunrise with fresh blue-green eyes; it meant savoring his meals a little more; it meant his heart quivering just a hair when ShadowClan's kits found themselves too near the thorny bramble walls. Life has felt more vivid since Ashenfall agreed to be his mate — and it has been technicolor since they'd agreed to have kits.

Or, it had been until Smogstar disappeared.

It's still exciting, he tells himself. It's supposed to be exciting, so he'll will himself into believing it. He ignores the cold needling at the base of his spine; the spinning thoughts that flash across the back of his eyelids with each blink. There's just so much to be scared of. I don't want to be like Granitepelt. I don't want to be like Granitepelt. I don't want to be like Granitepelt. And he doesn't want his kits to be like Granitepelt, and he doesn't want Granitepelt or Ghostmask or even Siltcloud to get anywhere near the kits, even though two of them are ghosts already. Above all, he doesn't want to fuck them up, he thinks. He wants to be good — a thing that, sometimes, it seems only Ashenfall believes he can be.

But things have been looking up in that regard. Flintwish has an apprentice now, given to him by Smogstar, before.... It's a sore spot. He used to think that Smogstar's disappearing would be an answer to all of his problems. It was a terrible thing to think about his own mate's father — made worse only by the fact that it hasn't solved all his problems; that in fact, it has only bred new problems to navigate, along with a sense of numbing dread. He isn't sure whether he'd prefer Smogstar to be dead or just missing, able to turn up one day like nothing had ever happened.

They stand together at the nursery's entrance. He would never have made Ashenfall move his nest alone, but he doesn't rebuke the notion of queens biting off his mate's head (and his icy stare lingers on Ternfrost in particular). When cats come to meet them, it is with far more kindness and congratulations than the day their mateship had been discovered. Discovered, not announced. They are not really the announcing type.

Still, the attention is... nice. For once. Flintwish cannot help but wonder how long it will last before someone sees fit to slice through the peace with a barbed tongue. But even that thought melts away as Swansong pads to her brother's side in support; as Scalejaw teases him about making up for lost paws. Duckshimmer even invites them to stay together for the night, though he truthfully isn't sure what authority she has to make that call, he can hope that none of the occupying queens feel like rebuffing it.

"What Swansong said," he answers Ashenfall, tail flicking against the other's flank in steady rhythm. He flashes the cream-pelted molly an appreciative if weary smile; of course she would show her brother support now, but he finds himself grateful for her friendship, too. He flicks his gaze to Scalejaw then, a new sort of feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He had never felt like he'd been a good apprentice to her — but here she is, congratulating them both with a shine in her molten eyes. He feels fizzy. "Thank you," Flintwish murmurs, smile twisting genuine at her quip.

He doesn't follow Duckshimmer's gaze, but his ears twitch attentively to her sentiment. "If they won't mind...." He trails off, glancing at the queens in the nursery for a reaction, before ultimately turning his attention back to his mate. "I can— I'd like to."

used to be one of the rotten ones ( and i liked you for that ) //

• ooc.
  
• FLINTWISH —— warrior of shadowclan, mentoring branchpaw . granitepelt x starlingheart . littermate to nettlepaw, ghostmask . mates with ashenfall ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a small, slate-blue tom with mismatched blue and green eyes. hard to approach and harder to enjoy, but beneath his spines he seems to have a good heart, and cares for his clanmates
  ✦ unlabeled gender / he, she, they pronouns / 16 moons & ages every 12th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / may flee / may show mercy. tends to fight dirty on account of granitepelt's teachings. will fight tooth and nail to win, as this is one of the few ways flintwish can prove his worth to himself
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

• 

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[MARBLEPAW]

ShadowClan has suffered tragedy after tragedy, loss after loss; it is warming, at least to Marblepaw, to see the Clan gather around the nursery's newest denizen. Ashenfall appears hesitant, Flintwish perhaps moreso; she can't imagine being in either of their paws. But, then again, she never will be — there is a code forbidding her from walking in their pawsteps. Marblepaw approaches and lightly flicks her tail tip against Flintwish's flank. "Congrats," she purrs. Her cousin is so at odds with himself, with his Clanmates, that it pleases her to see him surrounded by the good ShadowClan can offer.

Marblepaw turns her attention to Ashenfall, her green eyes glowing. "How have you been feeling? Do you need anything for your nest?" The tortoiseshell queen had not yet visited Starlingheart for a check-up, but she knows one is pending. Perhaps her mentor will let her do it this time — after all, she'd assisted with Ternfrost's kitting.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• Marblekit . Marblepaw, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 9 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
  — mentored by Starlingheart ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
  — shadowclan medicine cat apprentice, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
  — currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.
  
  

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[Gigglepaw]

Since leaving the nursery herself, Gigglepaw hasn't shown much of an interest in returning to it - kits and mates are the last thing on the girl's mind, not when there's adventures to be had out in the forest and sights to be seen. Not even when the newly-renamed Ternfrost had had her kits had Gigglepaw been very interested. There's a different feeling inside of her as she watches Ashenfall and Flintwish enter the nursery, and she pads over to join the gathering group that's congratulating them.

"I bet the kits'll be super cute," Gigglepaw stresses as she bounces on her paws, trying to catch Flintwish's attention - though not particularly close, they were kin, which meant- "Oh, and we'll all be family! Does that mean I can come see the kits whenever I want? What d'you think, Marblepaw? It's exciting to have more family around, isn't it?" She turns to the cousin she's closer to. Marblepaw would have the privilege of seeing the kits right away - Gigglepaw can't even fathom how small they might be when they arrive.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• !
  

• 

• GIGGLEPAW ✩ apprentice of shadowclan, eight moons
  → blinks incessantly & uncontrollably.
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.
  

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[Briarthorn]

.·:*¨༺🕷༻¨*:·. After Applejaws death, Briarthorn had perhaps placed herself as far from the deceased tortoiseshell's siblings as possible, Ashenfall in particular. It had not been necessarily out of genuine malice, the pitch-hued warrior doesn’t think so, though the alternative reasons hadn’t been much better.

To admit to the twisted cocktail of embarrassment and jealousy that smacked her across the face every time she glanced in Ashenfalls direction was a non-possibility, to entertain the envious thoughts that sang its graces behind hazel hues to see him and Flintwish together would be the death of her. Her feelings for Applejaw had been far from what the two tom’s shared, but the fact that he knew they existed at all was almost too much for Briarthorn, the budding friendship between them had died when his sister had. She had made it so.

Watching Ashenfall get himself comfortable within the nursery felt wrong, in a way. How was it her peers were already expecting kits of their own? It simply didn’t seem real. Swansong, Scalejaw, and Duckshimmer coo over the father to be, and Briarthorn began to feel as though her presence was becoming more and more out of place, especially when Marblepaw and Gigglepaw flounce over.

Shifting to a stand, the shadow would drift closer, hazel hues flicking between the couple with a guarded expression. "Congratulations," a tentative pause, "let me know if I can help with anything." With what, exactly? Briarthorn isn’t sure, but it felt like the right thing to say. She didn’t belong in this crowd.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── KEEP YOUR DEMONS ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ ON A LEASH ──┐‎

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• 

• 
  BRIARTHORN ꔫ she/her, warrior of shadowclan, 12 moons.
  ⭃ slender, lean-muscled black she-cat with sharp hazel eyes & large ears.
  ⭃ daughter of Forestshade && Vulturemask ࿏ sister to Screechpaw && Sweetpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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