backwritten if they find the body in the basement // basilwhisker

[✧ Siltcloud.]

◇​◇ I FOUND A MARTYR - HE TOLD ME THAT I'D NEVER ◇◇​

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siltcloud & 16 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan warrior ​

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Shadowclan is chaos. Of course, it's not unsurprising - to think that sabletuft of all cats would show such... interest in a thunderclan exile. What was it with her clanmates and their obsession with thunderclan cats? It disgusts her, really - memories of flickerfire and her betrayal running through her mind. Granitepelt had noticed the same, so there's no need for her to stick around - she'd said she'd help, but really there's not much she can do. Her time is better spent elsewhere.

She's hardly paying attention to where her paws carry her today, leaving before the sun is even down today. It's not as though her disappearance will ring alarm bells anyways - they're all occupied with more important things. She's nothing more than a face in the background, quiet and withdrawn. They'd not questioned it when she'd lied for her brother, nor when she'd shown up covered in wounds from battle with yewberry - they won't question it today either.

She likes that - this sense of freedom. She'd not had a good mentor to help her further her skills, so she needs to train herself in the only way she knows how. Paws move on in near silence as she stalks along, until keen nose finally catches a scent - eyes widening for a moment. Certainly, she's not been lucky enough to actually - no, that's definitely thunderclan scent. And there's only one she knows who would be this far out, a certain tom who'd been run from home for abandoning his clanmate to die.

Certainly, there won't be anyone to miss him - right? Something sharpens in dull sage eyes, lips quirking up into the faintest of smiles as her movements become more purposeful. Shadowclan is known for their stealth after all - and while she's never been the best warrior, she's always been good a hunting. What difference is it to her what her prey is? Slipping between shadows and shrubbery, she moves at break-neck pace, darting about on light paws - scrawny form more agile than one would assume from a glance.

It's only when movement catches her eyes that she slows, stalking forwards - hunting someone down out here is different from the twolegplace, and she lacks the vantagepoint and sense of security that comes from hanging about the rooftops and rafters. Head tilts, contemplating, and crooked tail flicks slowly - well, she might as well just go for it. Five-clawed paws are unsheathed as she finally make her move, launching forwards from behind basilwhisker in the hopes of sinking her claws into his shoulder and sending them both sprawling with her momentum. a move she's used often. with mixed results.

— with his educated eyes and his head between my thighs ♙

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: @BASILWHISKER
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — A dust hued cinnamon tabby with white markings and sage green eyes. Her fur is dull and unkept, her figure frail and slight, and she most notably has five toes upon each of her four paw. With the death of loampelt, something within siltcloud seems to have changed - no longer is she as soft-spoken as before, instead easily snapping at her clanmates and throwing herself into training her apprentice.
  
  — physically medium && mentally hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#ddadaf]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[BASILWHISKER]

⋆⍋ Fatigue weighed down each step the pointed tom took, his direction aimless as he carried on. Fever itched underneath his skin, making his pelt uncomfortably warm under the already harsh rays of sunlight. These wanderings are as pointless as him still waking- Basilwhisker knew he was dying. Whatever sickness he wrought from the forest had followed him into his exile. What may have possibly been cured by his brother's teachings was now infesting in his lungs. But Basilwhisker was perhaps equally fortunate and unfortunate enough to know that his ailment held no cure, not one that any knew of at the time anyhow. He may as well have been good as dead even in ThunderClan's care.

Sputtering breaths heaved from his lips while he fought just to keep himself upright. He doesn't know what else to do out here, he's hardly able to keep by from the scraps and carrion that appear on his path. It's hard to ignore how his skin clings to his bones- it's all that's really left of him.

A cough halted his shaky steps and his legs buckle from underneath him. His muzzle pressed into the grass, choking on dirt and his own breath until his throat is raw and stinging from his final bout of coughing. He feels deliriously lost in his own thoughts as the clearing begins to merge into itself. The clear blue sky has melted into the distant hills, the brush becoming a wall of green to his sights. There's a brief pause as Basilwhisker caught his breath and began to rise again, only for claws to sink beneath his skin.

He doesn't quite tumble so much as completely crumbles under the force Siltcloud sent. Teeth bite into his tongue when his chin slammed against the earth. Wide clear eyes have long since grown dull from the festering disease and gradual decline in his health, but they stare straight up at Siltcloud without any recognition. Not by scent, not by appearance, by anything. She's a mirage to him.

"That's... funny." In his delirium, his maw has split open to laugh. It's hollow and crackly, something he doesn't do often. If he ever had at all. "You snuck up... on me. Nothing... Nothing catches me..." Basilwhisker's voice began to trail off, his mind floating somewhere else. Ignorant to the danger in his presence, the pain from her pricking claws.​