camp IF YOU WAIT FOR IT / return

[Orangestar]

Moonhigh approaches, mostly-full and leaving a silvery sheen across the shadow-dappled pine floor. The faint scent of WindClan clings to a ghostly coat, out of place, but Orangestar doesn't pay any mind to it: she'd spent just too long with the moor-cats to have it be near the fore of her mind as she breathes in familiar SkyClan scent. Exhaustion pulls at each one of Orangestar's steps, but as the pines that precede the SkyClan camp come into view above her head she moves forward with a newfound resolve. Her heart aches, cracked pawpads stinging with each step, the cobwebbed scratches throbbing dully beneath their bindings.

She's home. It's only been a few days, the exact time lost to her, but she wants nothing more than to curl up in her nest. Dreaming with the Clans' ancestors is no restful night. How had SkyClan fared in her absence? Hopefully Cherryblossom had done a good job leading them while Orangestar was gone: she would expect nothing less from her daughter and deputy.

Straining, Orangestar seeks the pelt colours of the night-guard. Acknowledgement is softened by affection as she notices Chrysaliswing and then Owlheart in turn, and the leader's tail lifts in a greeting as she gets closer. They've likely seen her by now.

"I'm back." She meows quietly, rasping, in place of a hello.

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

• // please wait for @CHRYSALISWING or @Owlheart to post! this thread takes place around moonhigh, and most of the clan will reasonably be asleep<3
  
  in order to have this all reasonably happen before the gathering, there's some liquid timing happening! this thread takes place after this thread & its subsequent ones! the windclan mention will make sense eventually. this thread also happens later in the same evening that silversmoke gets home!
  
  
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | seven lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — single ; mentoring springpaw & ashpaw
  — speech is in #F18C47
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[Owlheart]

It's quiet, Owlheart is thankful for that. With tensions steadily rising within the confines of camp in Orangestars absence. Not to mention the rush of emotion that ran through the clan with the return of Silversmoke, so there was relief that it was just herself and Chrysaliswing as the night-guard. He wasn't particularly chatty and neither was she, if anything it truly was just a breath of fresh air. The night was rather still, so the sound of something - someone approaching was easy to pick up on, she straightens up and glances wearily at the chimera. Silently hoping that it wasn't going to end in a fight but given the fact that the rogues seem particularly emboldened as of late it seemed likely regardless.

The relief that it was her her mother instead of a rogue was instantaneous. She lifts her tail in return and rushes to move from where she stands, quick to be by her mothers side. "Welcome home- I missed you. The whole clan did" she's quick to add on the entire clan, not wanting to be truly selfish in the moment. Everyone had been worried after all, Slate especially. Should she get him? Her sister? Too wrapped up in what she was supposed to do in this moment and the relief over just seeing that she was okay. Well- Relatively okay, glancing over at her cobwebbed body, too focused on that to notice the scent of WindClan. Brushing her cheek against the SkyClan leader she clears her throat before calling out loud enough for those lingering nearby to hear.

"Orangestar's back! She's okay!" She's okay. She was home and that's what mattered right now.
​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

The moon ripples silver through the gaps in the roof of the warrior den, casting a kaleidoscope of light across the lonely figure tucked at its furthest edge, away from where much of the light touches. Doeblaze sits in her nest, scarred limbs pulled close in a compact bundle of living body, trying to make sense of the dream laid at her paws like a gift, shattered by an errant paw—left in shards she cannot possibly hope to piece together, but tries to anyways. There is little else to do as she sits awake, stripped of even her right to a night's rest before a hard day of training Cloudypaw and Primrose.

Orangestar's back! She's okay! Owlheart's call is not meant for her, but it is just audible enough to catch the ears of someone always awake and ever - awaiting the swiftness of an enemy's claws. She jolts up from her nest and rushes for the moon - glowing mouth of the den, weaving between slumbering forms with a grace she would find remarkable if not for the circumstances.

Though she's been forewarned, she can't help the way crescent claws peek from their sheathes as she rounds to the yawning mouth of brambles. Chrysaliswing's split hues—seeming to shout angrily from his body, venomous even in his essence—and Owlheart's softer ginger frame the dipped - white of Orangestar, the queen of the pines seeming to glow ghostly under the light of the swollen moon, limned in waxy silver. The warrior breaks from the worn footpaths of camp and heads straight for the moonhigh tableau, the exhaustion - shaded jade of her eye searching the leader's face.

Ivory - painted features are shadowed with moonlight, the same tiredness that pulls down Doeblaze's own eye tugging at sloping brown. Her scrutiny reveals little to be gleaned from Orangestar's scarred visage, but there is much drifting across her own face, as clouds across the moon. Guilt and shame ripple over her own scar - notched muzzle—her leader is home, safe, alive—but she had thought her not to be, and a once - over reveals windings of cobweb digging into thick ginger - and - white fur. Could this have been prevented? . . . Is this my fault?

" You're home, " she mrrows simply, and though stress scrapes raw at her voice, some of the tension that pulls her shoulders tight unspools—though the weary creases under her functioning eye do not wholly soften. " I'm glad. " Doeblaze's head dips low, as if by the depth of her respect she might make up for her unspoken crime, the crime of doubt; perhaps Slate's words had cut so deep because they carried a poisonous seed of truth. Petal - pink nose twitches, nostrils flaring, and her whiskers twitch at the scents that greet her.

There's the underlying spice of pine that they all carry, of course, but feathered over that—lightly, faintly, enough that even Doeblaze's careful nose must part it from the rest—is the open - sky ozone and heather of WindClan, a scent that makes the shaggy fur along her shoulders bristle, wolfish. " You smell of WindClan, " she says, not accusingly, although the lonely darkness of her pupil curves to a crescent - moon slit, as if fearful that the moor - cats might rob SkyClan of another leader.

" What— " she begins, and then pauses; a look at the exhaustion weighing down the steadfast leader's frame quiets her questions, if only for a moment. Instead, she mrrows, as if to confirm Owlheart's words, " You're alright? "

OOC : —

♥︎

​

 

[SLATESNARL]

The charcoal-pelted tom, to probably no one's surprise, hadn't been sleeping much over the past few days. Amber eyes were noticeably duller and heavier, a deep scowl etched onto his maw, his stare seeming to endlessly search the camp entrance for any sign of movement. Silversmoke's sudden presence had surprised the clan earlier that night, providing a sense of relief that at least one of their missing clanmates was back safe and sound. Much to his own surprise, Slate had been glad to welcome his former rival back to SkyClan, the place where he belonged. However, the same could not be said for SkyClan's queen...

"Orangestar's back! She's okay!"

It is as if the lead warrior snaps out of a trance, eyes lighting up in instantaneous elation at the news. He knows this must be true; why wouldn't it be, especially coming from Orangestar's own daughter? Slate slips hastily out of the leader's den, joining the growing crowd at the camp entrance, though he finds himself pushing past a few of his clanmates greedily as he wishes to meet his dear friend up front. The male feels as if it's been so long since he's laid eyes on Orangestar's stunning visage, and at that moment he resists a foreign urge to rush forward and sweep the leader into a warm embrace. However, his thoughts come to a screeching halt when the mixed smell of ichor, cobwebs, and an all-too-familiar heather scent linger in his nostrils. She had been injured.

Slate looks over his shoulder, casting a stern stare at a cat nearby. "Wake @DAWNGLARE and @Fireflyglow , now." The lead warrior orders swiftly and without question. Whatever dressings the leader had applied to her wounds, Slate figured it would be better for the medicine cats to look things over and double-check that they were properly treated.

Faux brows knitted, the corner of his mouth twitching as his jaws warmed themselves to bare into a snarl, Slate banks off of Doeblaze's observation, "WindClan? Did they do this?" For now, his anger toward the lilac tabby warrior was secondary in his mind, his sole concern being Orangestar's injuries. Someone—some sorry, lowly scum of the earth—had laid their claws on SkyClan's leader. Orangestar wasn't helplessly lying in a field somewhere, thank the stars — she had managed to make it home. She was here and she could come back to the den where he could assume his post dutifully and watchfully.

The Maine Coon pauses for a few moments, teeth set and breath bated, before he makes a decision—one that, after Ora's absence—he felt was necessary. He steps forth once more, this time murmuring into the nook of the leader's ear, "I... need to talk to you. Later." As soon as she was able, of course. He would wait for however long it took.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 ✹ .　 + 　˚ 　　 · 　 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄

• 

• 

  a lead warrior of skyclan, slate is forty-one moons and is mentoring coffeepaw. he is a hulking longhaired maine coon with black fur and prominent reddish rusting on his chest and belly. scars litter his form but are prominently present on his face. ✦

​

 

[oakrumble]

ᯓ⚘ Oakrumble likes to think they have some sort of special privilege to remain up so late, when the reality is that it is better for everyone if she paces back and forth in the clearing instead of tossing around inside the den. She did not see Orangestar press through the entrance, but heard Owlheart's call, as Slate and Doeblaze had. A heavy head raises, tattered ears careening forward in excitement. Orangestar is back! The pacing stops immediately and low and behold, with a twist of their neck Oakrumble rests their eyes upon Orangestar, a ghost in the moonlight.

Pawsteps wary, the torbie saunters towards the quaint gathering, halting behind Slate. She mews roughly, a quick greeting but otherwise bites her lip. Orangestar looks disheveled and Oakrumble presumes it is no use adding any voices to the commotion. It is no use adding to the questions. Besides, the less voices, the less attention drawn here. It would be better to let the clan rest, for Orangestar to seek whatever assistance she may need after her journey without prying eyes or babbling.

Slate's orders her to fetch the medicine cat, and obediently as ever, Oakrumble turns on their heel and canters away, ears perked to listen to the ongoing conversations. Windclan, had Orangestar seeked assistance from the moor clan? Slate... too many questions... let the woman breath! Oakrumble picks up pace and moves hastily towards the medicine cats' burrow, shouldering herself into the narrow opening partway to snap (in an attempt to rouse them from their sleep), "Orangestar's back. Injured. C'mon, up and at 'em."

Content her method of waking the two up has worked, Oakrumble trots back over. "They're comin', she mews, stiffly settling behind Slate, tail lashing as she looks over Orangestar once more. There's a concerned gleam in her eyes but she diverts them away from the leader, instead choosing to focus on everything but the she-cat now. Had she wanted me to follow...? Should I have been more concerned when she left camp?

ᯓ⚘ ‘cause i could lose it all

• ooc– getting @Fireflyglow, @DAWNGLARE
  
• OAKRUMBLE —— skyclan warrior, she/her or they/them, 56 moons
  
  

  ​

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​

 

[Howlfire]

Howlfire is not fully awake when Orangestar returns, merely dozing near the front of the warriors den, trying to remain cool by the entrance from the warmth within. It is the chatter of her clanmates - especially Owlheart's words - that stir her from her light slumber, and she lifted her head spotting Orangestar amidst the gathered cats.

"Welcome back, Orangestar!" Howlfire greeted, as she padded over. She looked a little worse for wear, but she was alive at least. She was so caught up in the delight of seeing their leader alright that she doesn't notice the WindClan scent at first, and it is only when Doeblaze mentions it, that her eyes narrow in suspicion. Howlfire had never mentioned it, but she had quietly feared something might have occurred due to WindClan. It still lingered in her mind about when they had claimed the lands around the Moonstone. She saw no point in bombarding Orangestar with further questions, with her clanmates having done the work for her, and waits patiently to see what she will say.​

 

[Orangestar]

It doesn't take long for her to be surrounded by her Clanmates, Owlheart's call bringing them forth like bees to pollen. Orangestar presses her nose to her kit's ear, though strains to reach up and do so - when had the ginger tabby gotten so tall? - and her shoulder throbs with the reach. Ouch. Orangestar takes a steadying breath as Doeblaze approaches, meeting fatigued olive eyes with her own.

"The cobwebs are WindClan's." She answers with a twitch of her tail-tip, the questions of Doeblaze and Slate marked off in four words. She nods at the black-furred tom, inspecting and discarding the request for later. The friendly chirp of Howlfire and reassuring terseness of Oakrumble earn nods, absent but void of any irritation. Though she's exhausted, Orangestar elaborates in a soft rasp: "I was attacked by rogues on my way from the Moonstone, but they were chased off. I was escorted to our border for safety."

Eager to change the subject, Orangestar squares her shoulders. "What happened while I was gone?"

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

•  
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | seven lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — single ; mentoring springpaw & ashpaw
  — speech is in #D2977D
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

"I'm getting up, hold your horses.." Fireflyglow grumbles as he rises to his paws, blinking sleep away from milky blue eyes before stretching. He pushes himself out of the medicine den, welcoming the scent of pine and damp grass as he walks. His eyes blink once, then twice, blind hues seemingly staring through the orange and white leader for a moment as if noticing something.

You've lost another life. He thinks to himself, a frown on his lips as he turns to look at his clanmates. "Get her to her den, you can give her your reports one at a time then. She needs to be comfortable after that trek." He responds after Orangestar's question, sparing her a momentarily glance of worry before he turns to rush back to the medicine den. He pulls some dock from the storage, along with with a poppy seed for good measure. He lifts marigold and wintergreen from the pile next, storing it all in a big oak leaf so he can carry it.

"Oh, Mother help us.." Fireflyglow whispers softly to himself as he pulls the leaf, lifting it up and carrying it out of the medicine den to Orangestar's own. "Please tell me they treated your wounds instead of just stickin' some cobwebs on them." He grumbles moodily, tail waving behind him.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 24 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[Cherryblossom]

"I'm back." "Orangestar's back!"

And just like that, the rest of the weight slips off her heart.

Cherryblossom rises through the fog of relief, digging pale toes into the earth like hesitant seedling roots. White limbs tingle as though she'd been sitting on them for sunrises, even though only heartbeats had passed since she first folded herself down for the night, shot through with the relief of Silversmoke's return.

The moon catches on the tips of Bobbie's whiskers as she glides past, the first ghost amongst the bleary-eyed parade unfurling towards the entrance, and the young deputy lets herself be carried like mist in the wind to the forefront. It'd been Owlheart's soft trumpet at the gates; she gives her sister a cottoned, bewildered glance before returning to Orangestar's phantasmal visage. "Mama?" she wants to cry. Instead, she utters quietly, "Orangestar?" Standing tall, as tall as the remaining burdens of drowsiness allow, she guiltily confronts the leader of SkyClan. "...thank StarClan."

Still, the sight of Chrysaliswing's sour countenance is not enough to jar her from her mother's new form. Swathes of cobwebs glisten in the moonlight over her fur, faint strands of dewiness clinging above familiar tufts and whorls. Alarm brightens citrine eyes, and the black hairs between her shoulder blades begin to lift. "What happened?" Her voice joins in the puzzled chorus.

Righteous anger—all the "she was delayed because she was hurt," and "why didn't I send out a patrol earlier?" and, embarrassingly late, "who put cobwebs there?"—weighs her ears and flares her nose—and the scent of the moorlands whispers over her face as though she's just buried it in tortoiseshell fur.

Doeblaze beats her to it, and Slate's muted snarl rolls like wintry morning fog off her riverside tones. "WindClan—why—?" It's Oakrumble who interrupted her halting train of thought, puncturing it with gravelly efficiency. The medicine cats—of course—why didn't I—? She shakes her head, trying not to let frustration take ahold of her face.

Orangestar answers soon enough anyway. It's unsatisfactory, but it reeks of the kind of exhaustion that keeps curiosity at bay. The elaboration, though welcome, makes her eyes pop slightly. "Rogues?" Cherryblossom echoes, disgust coloring even her gentlest tones. "By WindClan?" She'd imagined she was one of the only among SkyClan to have something of a good relationship with WindClan. Maybe Sunstar hadn't lied when he proclaimed a new era for his clan; if this had happened just two seasons ago, they all would've woken up to a legion storming their borders and crowing over her body.

They still could've. StarClan's kits, the borders, she should've done something about them—eventually word would've spread that Orangestar was missing and the vultures would've all descended and, fuck, she would've just kept assigning patrols as usual. She would've kept her nose on the ground and pretended like a four-sunrise journey to Mothermouth was dandy while Slate of all cats worried himself into a hole right in front of all of them. Of all cats, she thinks, impolitely following the brush of his mouth against her mother's ear before he leaves. Of all things to be worried about now.

Flame-caped shoulders shift, and her attention shifts with it. "I—" She's equally frustrated and relieved Fireflyglow chooses this time to butt his big head in and direct them all to their proper places, Orangestar to her laurels and Cherryblossom to them a later time. "...'kay." Finally, she remembers to dip her head to the leader. "Fireflyglow, let me know when you're, like, done," she calls to him as he retreats for more supplies. To the rest, she levels a weary stare at and meows, "Let's all go back to sleep, mmkay? I know you have questions...I don't care. Find out tomorrow." Cherryblossom closes her eyes, tail swishing uneasily behind her. Stars. For whatever reason, she barely even wants to find out now.​