sensitive topics i'll see you again, my loved one / DEATH

[BRIARSTAR]

/ tw: permadeath, some mentions of gore/blood.
also, i just wanted to say that it has been an honor bringing shadowclan into fruition! i wish nico/pitchsun the best in leading you guys forward. love you shadowfam <3

The last of the flames had dwindled into dull embers, flickering like dying fireflies as their lives faded, turning them to ash. A good part of the territory had been desecrated but at least the fire was over and ShadowClan could return home. Briarstar had already called for her Clan to make preparations for the journey back to camp, which had been saved from the damage of the brushfire, thank StarClan. Aside from losing some of their hunting grounds until newleaf hopefully breathed some life into it again, ShadowClan had not lost much. Their stomachs would be a little more empty, but Briarstar would find a way to ensure they all lived to see the winter through. She was rounding up her kits to prepare them for the journey and counted her litter as they played with the others their age. One, two, three, four, five... where were Marrowkit and Slitherkit?

"Has anyone seen Marrowkit and Slitherkit?" Briarstar asked when she realized that they were not in the tunnels. Where had they gone? She peeked her head outside of the tunnels but saw no sign of them. However, their smell lingered nearby. Without waiting for a response, she quickly barked out an order to the other five kits: stay here. With that, her shadowy form disappeared from the tunnels and into the marshlands. She opened her mouth to get a better sense of where her boys had run off to and their smell seemed to be heading towards the Thunderpath which loomed above them. "I'm going to ground those little toms until they're warriors," she growled to herself as she ascended the slope that would put her level with the smelly asphalt border.

Her eyes peeled up and down the stretch of dark gray until her eyes landed on the shape of two young cats. "What are you two doing?!" she demanded angrily, leaping onto the Thunderpath without a second thought. She could see it now - a monster racing down straight towards them, killing her children. She would not let that happen. They had to move now. The Thunderpath was clear for the time being but she could not ensure it would be that way for much longer. She was in full sprint now, barreling towards her children.

Nine.

And at that same moment, the biggest monster she had ever seen came growling and groaning around the bend, hurtling straight towards her precious kits. No! "GET OFF THE THUNDERPATH NOW!" she caterwauled. The monster kept coming straight for them, its big, round teeth grumbling along the rough surface of the Thunderpath. Briarstar barreled into her children in the nick of time, the force of the blow sending them both rolling into the grass to safety. She moved to jump out of the way, but suddenly a force so strong it knocked the wind out of her lungs crashed into her. She could feel nearly every bone in her body shatter, heard the sickening crunch beneath the steady snarl of the monster as it passed over her. She gasped for breath but could not get any oxygen to enter her lungs. She tried again and was met with indescribable pain. She tried to cry out, but she just choked on her own blood.

The world went black. She saw the same starry scene she'd seen when she gained her nine lives and communed with the dead. She saw Amber, Hare Whiskers, Rain... the others who had died in the Great Battle. She didn't know how long she was out but when she came back, pain shot through her body so intensely that she grappled at the ground with her claws. "M-make it... stop," she gargled, spitting blood from her mouth.

Eight.

She writhed in pain, her body convulsing as another life left her. She slipped into unconsciousness again as another life was spent trying to heal what could not be mended. The pain melted away but only for a moment. She came back for only a few seconds before the process repeated itself again.

Seven... six...

Two more managed to escape her, one right after the other. She came back, gasping for breath. Her lungs had seemed to mend themselves partly because she was gulping air the way a thirsty cat would drink water. "Help..." she murmured between breaths. "Bonejaw. I n-need Bonejaw." The world faded away again.

Five... four... three... two...

The process repeated itself quickly, her body desperately trying to resuscitate itself with the lives StarClan had given her. But it was in vain. She clung on to only one more life. She could feel herself lying in her own blood. She could see her limbs bent at unnatural angles. She could feel her throat filling with blood again as she gargled out another plea for help. Pain coursed through her body and she seized again, her eyes lolling in the back of her head. Blackness shrouded her vision and she knew she was about to be taken again, one last time. "I love... you," she choked out to the two kits - her beloved children - she had died saving.

One...

"Amber, is that you?" she asked, casting her eyes up to the sky. And with that final breath she drew to remind her sons that she loved them, StarClan claimed her for good this time. That night, there would be a brand new star in the sky, shining more brightly than the rest.

[ @MARROWKIT @SLITHERKIT ]​

 

[SLITHERPAW]

All he wanted to do was see the thing that everyone said was dangerous. Fire didn't scare him, or so he likes to think anyway. He's trying to be big and strong for his siblings and so this is just another challenge for him. Another hurdle to show that he is going to be the best and strongest warrior in Shadowclan. Able to protect his siblings and show up the rest of the clans. The black hard path reeks, it stinks badly. Burns his throat and nose as he smells it and somehow he's convinced Marrowkit to come along with him. It's not like they are doing anything wrong right? Flicking his short tail he stomps on it a bit, jumps a little and then frowns. "Everyone says not to be on this. But it doesn't do nothing but stink a lot." The young tom is perplexed as he looks up to his sibling only to tilt his head a little. He's about to start walking down the path when he catches a glimpse of a black pelt coming towards them. The smell of other warriors and apprentices of Shadowclan great him and he gasps excitedly. "Oh! I think everyone is back from the gathering! I wonder what happened! I bet we proved a fire couldn't do anything to us!"

A light chuckle leaves his muzzle as he starts to head towards his mother, blinking bright mismatched eyes. But there is something wrong, something shaking and vibrating the ground with a deep rumble. His eyes so bright with excitement turn into terror and fear as he realizes the reason why others say to stay off the thunderpath. The reason why cats should never be on them for too long. The great beast is heading for them, so large that it swallows the night sky, it's loud and smells of rotten carrion and the child can't seem to move his legs. He's stuck and he looks to his brother to try and yell to him. To try and say something. Their mother screeches and suddenly her body collides with his own. He is knocked aside, rolling across the path into the dense foliage on the other side. The wind feels gutted from him, a whistling as he tries to breath in air only for it to get stuck over and over again. He hasn't even realized that he has started crying. Fresh tears stain his fur as he struggles to pull in the air, trembling and shaking.

The realization that it's grown quiet makes him move, shaking paws finding purchase against the ground once more. "M-marrow?' He speaks out as he starts to move up the ditch. Mud stains his pelt but he cares little about his appearance as he wobbles his way up. The Thunderpath is silent once more and he breaths in harshly only for the acrid scent of iron to slam into his nostrils. It almost makes him gag and then he sees his mother laying there, blood thick around her body. Bones shattered and limbs broken and twisted at odd angles. Struggling to live, dying and coming back. Calling for his aunt, gargling on her own blood. "M-mo-momma....?" But she is gone before he has a chance to even move himself close. She's gone, her breath issuing out like a gentle breeze. The last words about their father and then the night becomes cold. Unbearable cold and a realization sinks deep into him. He did this. He killed his mother.....over and over again. This is his fault. If he had just stayed in the tunnels...this wouldn't have happened at all.

A bitter wail of agony leaves his throat and he throws himself onto the body, blood meaning nothing to him as sobbing cries leave him. He's a murderer so young. He killed his mother and there is nothing he can do to take it back. Nothing he can do to make this situation okay. What will the rest of his clanmates think? His small body tenses up and he can't, he can't face them. It's painful, daggers piercing his heart and so he runs, he dashes off into the wilderness, leaving behind his brother and his clan. Not once stopping to look back.​

 

[MARROWPAW]

──⠀ ﹙†﹚⠀MORTIS ⠀: ⠀ they were lost. marrowkit would not admit that they were lost, but they were certainly, without a doubt, absolutely lost. little paws carry him forward, through the soot - scattered grass, up to his nose in fire dust and smattered with rain. he was cold and upset, but slitherkit was with him and that meant he couldn’t look dumb. marrowkit was pretty good at looking dumb sometimes, and while he did have a particular difficulty concentrating, he wasn’t dumb. he was pretty sure he heard his mom talking about a big old tree out near the thunderpath, the big hard dirt stinking and reeking of monsters. he leaps up onto the asphalt, though he knows it by no name, and marvels at the almost - rock under sensitive pawpads, “ i’m thinkin’ we’re close, prob’ly. that tree’s pretty stinkin’ big. “ marrowkit speaks, tossing his little skull towards one of the oaks that line the edge of the thunderpath. they were certainly not close, not by a longshot, and he did not know that the ‘ big tree ‘ he is referring to hearing about is the tree responsible for their evacuation. it lie burned, charred away and smoldering into the night air. the bicolored tom kit ambles along, trotting slow along the dotted white lines as if it were a trail to follow, wrinkling his tiny link nose at the increasingly sickening smell.

there is an almost - rumbling underpaw, just enough to cause a mini vibration in the notches at the ends of his slender limbs. it’s annoying, and every couple of steps he pauses, flicking his onyx paws as if to physically remove the sensation, “ this place sucks, no wonder they don’t want us gettin’ up on here. “ he’s running his mouth, what he’s known best for, but with no adults around, he didn’t see the harm in it. besides, briarstar’s tale of monsters and their thirst for kit blood was just a tale to scare kittens. marrowkit, despite what his name may suggest, is no kit. he’s an adventurer, now — as tired, sluggish as he is, he’s traveling the lands. a strong, brave warrior, just like his dad. just like briarstar would say. he’d grow up to be big and strong, he’d know all the trees on their marshlands. he’d be able to walk on the thunderpath all the time, because monsters would be scared of him — brave marrow, marrowstar. they’d tell tales of him, returning home with his brother in tow, chin high. you did great, marrowkit! they’d say, because they don’t say that too often, and he would really like to hear it.

catching his mothers scent halts him immediately.

his tail tucks, ears swiveling downward and little body crouching towards the hard, smelly rock, “ uh oh. “ oh, frogdung! wild sunburst eyes flick towards his brother, mouthing a frantic don’t tell her, don’t tell her because — yes, perhaps he had suggested the game. the reason they’d stumbled off, after marrowkit’s paw whapped his brother over the head and giggled, darting off towards a desperate tunnel because sure, he could find the way back! it’s then that the ground begins to shake more violently — his limbs are coltish, just stretching with growth and it’s enough for him to lose his footing, landing heavily upon his elbows. he doesn’t understand. it’s happening too fast for him to comprehend, he glances up into the bright eyes of his mother, her side illuminated in artificial yellow - light. in the seconds before collision, he thinks she looks like the moon. her dark coat is illuminated in striking ivory and he is on the dark side, watching as she moves, barreling towards him with a scream to get off the thunderpath. it does not process. the force in which he is knocked back pulls the wind from him, landing heavy on his ribs and wheezing at the cloud of smog that erupts from the grass he skids into.

there is a sickening thump.

his head whips up, a sick gargling sound just barely heard over the monsters vicious roar. he, unlike his brother, screams. he screams and screams, until his vocal chords are hurting and sore and as red as the blood that seeps slow into the hard ground. it’s too loud against the almost - stone, sick crunching beneath big, turning legs and the gasps she takes in between, “ STOP! stop hurting her! “ even if the monster could stop, his voice is too small — shaking and broken with terror and soot inhalation and the bruises now tender along his ribcage to be heard over this cacophony of torment. it hits her again. and again and again and again and suddenly the bicolored tom is aware that he is weeping, crouching once again to the ground and letting his paws cover flooding eyes, scratching at his head as if it would make his situation vanish. to be back in his nest, before the fire, before they had to run and before he’d so foolishly wandered off. dumb little marrowkit, stupid little marrowkit — his chest hurts, mouth sore with the way its warped in open, stretching sobs. crunch, whistle, scream. gasp. crunch, whistle, scream. his eyes squeeze and paws move to cover his ears instead, chin down in the dirt and folding them close, as if it were any help. he does not hear his mother ask for his aunt, but he thinks of her anyway, “ i don’t — i don’t know where, i don’t — “

stupid marrowkit. too - talkative marrowkit. maybe if he listened more, he would’ve known how to get back. maybe if he listened more, they would not have gotten lost in the first place. maybe if he listened more, his mother would not be suffering in front of him now. the monster passes and it’s then that he finally, slowly takes his paws off his ears, trembling too much to do more than pant heavy into the soil.

i love you.

the boy does not want to look up. his eyes are still squeezed, clenched so hard they ache in his temples where skin stretches too tight. she needs him now, and he has to look at her, he knows — but he can’t. he’s crying still, sick dribbling from the corners of his mouth and melding with the tears and rain that mats his fur to his face. finally, he looks up, forcing himself to focus through blurry eyes.

he wishes he didn’t.

there is little describing the sound that comes from him — small and terrorized, a wail of loss insurmountable to most. cats have gone their entire lives without feeling the pain ripping through his four month old body, pelting from his throat before he could think to choke it back. she was mangled, broken in every way, smattered with an amount of blood that should not rightly exist within a mortal body. it’s seeping out towards the ends of the asphalt and he feels sick again, nearly, but his wailing seems to cork his esophagus and prevent another reflex. slitherkit is speaking and his ears are still ringing both with the sound of his own shrieks, and the monsters thunderous voice. slither tosses himself upon her body and he is creeping up slow behind, low to the ground and shell - shocked, eyes wide with terror and grief. she breathes a final word, one sounding like his fathers name — and slitherkit is running away. running into the darkness, leaving him alone on the thunderpath.

slowly, he steps between shattered, jutting limbs. lays against a soft belly now ripped and torn, exposed and pink and soft. the blood that pools around him is sticky, wet and too hot, already diluting pink in the rain. he puts his chin on her paws, or what remains. he stares forward.

he waits for the monster to come back.

out of character information

• 
  − marrowkit ; he / him. kit of shadowclan, son of briarstar and amber
  − longhaired spiky black tom w low white & sunburst orange eyes
  − three months old, penned by antlers
  
  

​

 

[turtlenose]

An uneasy feeling crept down her spine as Briarstar left the tunnels. A pull urged her to follow in her footsteps, confident that her clanmates would watch the kits. Paws would take her faster, soon racing after her leader, only to be met with a horrible scene. Briarstar had found her children, successfully throwing them out of harms way. What would come next? She’d be forced to relive each day.

Nine times over. That was the number of deaths she was forced to watch her leader undergo. In that moment, Turtletail was determined to do anything in her power to avoid becoming a leader. To die that many times over? Why would any cat want to undergo such a painful series of deaths? Corpse scattered beyond recognition, she would soon regain her composure upon realizing that Briar’s children had witnessed her death.

“Willowsong, fetch @BONEJAW and @PITCHSUN immediately. Do not let any of Briar’s other children follow you.” She’d order, dipping her head as she carefully checked the thunderpath for any further signs of approaching monsters before racing towards the kits. Watching as Slitherkit raced away, she’d signal with her tail for yet another NPC to chase after them. Halting beside Marrowkit, she would anxiously glance around as he sat upon the thunderpath. “Marrowkit? I know it’s difficult… but we can’t sit here on the thunderpath. Bonejaw and Pitchsun are coming, they’ll know what to do. For now let’s get off this thing before another monster comes.” Attempting to pick the child up by the scruff of his neck, she would aim to take him to the Windclan side of the thunderpath, now hopefully out of harms way. Should he choose to do so, Turtlenose would allow the child to lean into her fur, wrapping her tail around him in a comforting manner. She would understand if this was not the case, and instead sit beside him in silence, waiting for the deputy and medicine cat’s arrivals.


​

 

[PITCHSTAR]

[ CW for a brief mention of suicidal ideation at the end ]

Pitchsun doesn't linger in the tunnels unless absolutely necessary. Not after that mini-freakout he'd endured in front of everyone. He'd much rather contend with the blazing fire than those suffocating walls. He'd sooner destroy his lungs with mouthfuls of smoke.

The deputy practically bounces with glee when his mother declares it safe enough to return to the camp.

He's returning with a hunting patrol when the dark-furred leader storms from the tunnel. Pitchsun's brows quirk, his (pitiful) bounty dropping as his mouth opens to inquire about her foul mood. But her furious howl cuts him off, and the rosette tabby's teeth clack together painfully as his mouth snaps closed. His confused stare morphs into a mildly annoyed roll of his eyes, however, when he notices the two disobedient furballs huddled on the Thunderpath. Pitchsun doesn't worry, though; Briarstar clearly has it handled, and if he knows his mother well enough, Slitherkit and Marrowkit will be hearing about this up until their warrior ceremonies. Besides, the path is empty right now. His mother would have the two up and off of the asphalt long before a monster comes, he's certain of it.

Pitchsun nearly snickers as he imagines how much trouble his younger brothers will be in after.

Nearly.

That's when the earth shakes and the air fills with the deafening growls of a monster. Pitchsun's heart pauses in it's beating. No. No, not now. "MOM-" The cry is drowned out by the small she-cat's own caterwaul. The deputy would have run straight into the path of the monster if it hadn't been for one of his patrol members pulling him back, leaving him helpless to watch as Briarstar hurls her two youngest kits out of danger and runs, runs, nearly to the safety of the grass...

The world freezes around him. Pitchsun is screaming, unintelligible, but all he can hear is the sharp thud of his mother's body succumbing to the large paws of the monster. Bones cracking, flesh peeling, and Pitchsun wants to look away but he cannot. He cannot tear his eyes away from the crimson that is quickly painting the asphalt.

His tears are hot, burning his skin. With an animalistic howl, the deputy tears himself from the NPC warrior's grasp and sprints to his mother's side. She has nine lives, right? That's what she'd told them. StarClan- StarClan blessed her with nine lives. Her flanks are still now, but she would return to him. She couldn't leave him alone.

Briarstar sucks in a painful breath. Pitchsun sobs in relief. She's alive, she's okay. Down one life, but alive.

But something isn't right.

His mother claws at the asphalt, the blood still gushing. Sticky and wet, staining his own paws. She's fighting a losing battle, that spark she'd only just rekindled quickly being squandered as her heaving flanks still once more. No. No, no, no! What's happening!? Why isn't she-

She's back. Her broken body convulses as she revives, and then stills again. Pitchsun curls around her, screaming for Bonejaw, for StarClan, for anyone to help. He doesn't care if they're still on the Thunderpath. His foggy brain could only think of his mother and how desperately he needs her.

He can feel, too sharply, each spasm of her muscles. Each life that drains from her, quicker than the last. Pitchsun loses count after the third. STOP! Make it stop! StarClan, please, make it stop-" His smoke-damaged throat is raw from his screaming, but he could not stop, even if he wanted to. Wail after wail rips it's way out of his lungs, his chest heaving and his legs shaking as he tries, tries to stop the outpour of blood.

It doesn't stop.

After what feels like an eternity, Briarstar does not resuscitate. Pitchsun's mouth falls open into a silent keening, his voice long since gone now. "Momma, momma, momma-" The deputy whimpers, curling tighter around his mother's body. He doesn't notice Slitherkit running. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, his tear-streaked face buried into Briarstar's bloodied fur, trying to find any semblance of her scent beneath the copper. "Momma, please, come back. Don't leave me, please."

Pitchsun couldn't care less if another monster claimed him, here and now. A darker corner of his mind longed for it. At least he'd be with his mom and dad, then. He would be free from this crushing force of guilt and grief and anger.​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

grief was such an interesting thing. but even for someone as emotionally shut off as chilledgaze was, this wasn't escapable. even they couldn't shut this down like they usually did. so many cries. screams. pain. the flowery, and sickeningly sweet, smell of death clouds up the air, even overtaking the disgustingly bitter smell of the monsters that roared down the roadway. this was horrific. this was torture. chilledgaze didn't want to watch this, but even they are frozen with horror as their leader's lives are ripped from her body. she saved her kits, but at what cost? the cost of her life. they knew she would be at least satisfied with that, but where did that leave the clan? in pain? for sure. without a doubt. starclan was cruel for this. they watched as she stayed there limp, and continued to send her back. why? why would they do that?

chilled stood, frozen in horror as their eyes darted to their deputy... or rather leader. he was crying for briarstar, too, but it was no use. she wasn't coming back. shit. shit. do something. move, you fucking idiot! move! they urged themself and with a sudden shake of their head, they weren't frozen anymore. they needed to act! they weren't weak! if their parents had taught them anything, it was to shove that emotional bullshit down, and keep going. keep moving. they'd do it right now. they didn't have time to be sad. this was dangerous. everyone was putting themself in danger.

"get off the fuckin' thunderpath, you frog-brained idiot!"

they hissed, claws digging into the ground as they darted towards pitchsun.

"now isn't the time for this! get the fuck up! lets go! now! briarstar isn't in pain anymore. someone grab her body!"

they aren't talking to any one cat besides pitchsun. with a rough, and rather annoyed, growl, the obsidian colored felidae attempted to grab pitch's scruff in their jaws, trying to pull them off the thunderpath. they'd be damned if they let starclan take another life. they took enough when they let briar suffer like that. they'd never forgive those stupid starred cats. never.

​

[ NOBODY ELSE MATTERS, GIRL ]​

 

[BONERIPPLE]

Shadowclan has suffered the most during these last moons and even before it's creation. Given the smallest and less prey filled territory, having those that were supposed to be friends and family leave them, having to fight for scraps. Given and incompetent feline to become their medicine cat. Enduring a fire and their territory being struck down by lightning. Shadowclan has suffered. So what more can they endure? The gathering had been something else, especially when it came rise to know that Windclan's having barbaric practices done. Knowing that Riverclan has been helping Thunderclan with their fire issues. Everything is culminating into something and whatever it is can not be good. She's long since been moving and shifting, attempting to force herself to be attentive to those that still need her unpracticed paws. Her head lifts up as she notices her sister leaving the tunnels, talking about two of her nephews. She's not too inclined to follow and so she merely looks back down to a tom who's breathing is ragged and coughs shake his body. It's only when there is loud shouting and calling does she move.

A rough sigh leaving her throat as she steps from the tunnels and starts to make her way up the hill. This is not something she is prepared for. She's always thought that Briar and her had so much time. So much time to be together and to live and thrive among the marshes. A family, just them two having survived it all till the bitter end. Their parents taken from them and so they are all that they had left. Just her and her sister. Yet it is evident that this has only ever been a dream. One that will slowly dissolve and disappear as she crests the hill to stand upon the edge of the Thunderpath. It's the smell that reaches her first, the tang of iron on her tongue telling her that something has happened. Her face become emotionless the moment she sees her sister's body laying there, broken, flesh smeared across the black surface. Limbs twisted and bone showing though torn skin. Her eyes carry nothing in them. A void of anything as she just stares forth. Not even her nephew wailing seems to snap her out of it as she just looks at her sister's body.

Laying there crumpled and utterly silent. So silent. Not even a breath, not even a movement. Someone yells for Pitchsun to get off the thunderpath, to come back to safety. Bone doesn't do anything at all but stare at the corpse that used to be her sister. Her jaws suddenly move and they open, a cracking laugh billowing up from her muzzle. This is it, isn't it? This is a sign. A sign that Shadowclan will always suffer, always know nothing but suffering. Because it is the will of Starclan. They will always be squished under the paws of others, even monster that roam the thunderpath. There is no greatness in the future for her home in the marshes. They have to pay for their transgressions and Starclan, oh the great and powerful Starclan will see to it, won't they? Her laugh is rising and falling at odd intervals, shaking and shivering her body as she tries to comprehend just how much she's lost, just how more she may lose because of Starclan.

Her vision has gone blurry, wavering and wobbling. She blinks and liquid stains her fur from empty and cold staring eyes. Her chest heaves and wobbles as she tries to pull in air from the sudden sobbing laughing sounds chocking her. "Get the body, get it." She doesn't care, she doesn't care. It hurts to much to care anymore. It's painful. Breaking her heart into pieces and pulling at the seams of her mind. "We will bury it at Fourtrees. Fourtrees, that's where it should be. Where the other is." Amber. That's where he is, that's where she should be. With him. Together in death and living in that horrid, horrid place for taking her away. Her steps are like jerking snakes as her white limbs take her to the thunderpath. She looks at no one, she can not see them. She just sees this and she grabs the bloodied scruff of what used to be her sister and she picks up the body, not caring about the viscera she might leave behind. Her orders are like she's talking to herself as she stands there with her sister's body, eyes blank as she starts to move, uncaring, unblinking. To Fourtrees.​

 

[GECKOSCREECH]

❝ holding it together with one loose string. ❝​

it happened so fast, too fast for anyone to even properly act until. geckoscreech had stayed by her son when it happened, watching as briarstar climbed up the small slope at the mouth of the entrance to search for her sons that had suddenly disappeared from sight. there was nothing to be thought of it at first, one would think the two boys had scampered off to explore around the area infront of the tunnel but no.

the silence that hung heavy in the tunnels was broken by a thundering howl of a monster overhead followed by sickening crunch and a cacophony of shrieking. the molly's body tensed up immediately, ears quickly swiveling back as the growling sounds of monsters became a distant sound only leaving the grief-stricken howls of those who left the shelter to investigate. geckoscreech pressed close to ribbitpaw, tail curling protectively around his tabby body.

she was frozen, she couldn't move, to go see the aftermath of what happened. the horrifying sounds was enough to tell the whole story. it felt too familiar and it bought back memories to leaping toad and how small and frail his bloodied body looked when it was dragged back to camp after the battle. the stars were relentless, greedily taking from shadowclan until they were nothing but shriveled husks and now, they stamped out the flame of a leader whose lives were taken just as quick as they were given.

"have we not suffered enough?" the words were barely spoken above a whisper.


​

 

[POSSUMPAW]

possumkit had been crouched down near the tunnel walls watching a spider scuttle across the ground near the entrance when all hell broke loose. the earth they stood upon practically shook underneath their paws as the monster barreled above them, garbling out harsh noises in its awful language but what he didn't expect was to hear was something someone getting caught underneath it's paws. the young kit watched with wide eyes as some adults rushed out to investigate the scene which started the chain-reaction of caterwauling cries, something happened, something bad happened.

the air that was once just soured with the acrid scent of the thunderpath was now suffocating with the metal tang of blood that cause the fur along the tabby's body to bristle out in fear. possumkit stumbled towards where the rest of the group was, ears laying flat against his head as he looked towards the nearest warrior. "w-what's going on?!" he stammers, distress lacing their words.

​

[ penned by cobi ]​

 

[Starlingheart]

Starlingkit was half asleep when it happened. Uncomfortable in her makeshift nest but still doing her best to try and get some sleep. Her mother had told her to and Starlingkit had always been one to listen to her mother. She barely registers it when the ebony she-cat leaves, she watches her through eyes blurred by sleep as she disappears from the tunnel to search for her missing siblings, not thinking anything of it. Not until she hears the scream. She sits up immediately, suddenly not feeling very tired as a sick feeling finds its way into her stomach.

Adults go rushing from the tunnel to see what had happened and Starlingkit moves to join them, someone holds her back before she can move. Her ears pin against her head as she hears her family wailing. Her older brother among them. A cold dread grips her heart and she looks around desperately, trying to push through her clan-mates that now crowd the entrance to the tunnel that now felt too cramped, too small. "It's Briarstar, Briarstar is dead!" she hears a clanmate exclaim and she stumbles backward, feeling as if she has just gotten slammed in the chest. "N-no" she says quietly in denial. It wasn't possible, her mother had nine lives. She would come back, right? Certainly, she had to, Star Clan would not have taken her mother away from her, she refuses to believe it. Any minute now she would stroll back in here and tell her to go back to bed. Lick her head and wake her from whatever bad dream she had stumbled into. She lets out a strangled cry.

Please please please let me wake up she thinks, squeezing her eyes shut as they begin to water. ​

 

[Firedawn]

YOU WILL ALWAYS BE ENOUGH​

---

Firedawn stared at the scene, unable to move on legs that were not trembling from the effort to stay standing. Grief was crashing into the molly as she stared at Briarstars' mangled form on the Thunderpath, the yelling of those around her not registering in her mind as her mind flashed back to the memories she had with the dark pelted she-cat.

Briarstar had been such a large part of the she-cat's life. Had been there when she was found, had been a constant presence throughout her younger moons, and even granted her the beautiful name she now bore. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, only choking sobs that mirrored those around her. Briarstar had been killed in such a horrific way, Firedawn could not help but feel the rare emotion of anger boil within her veins towards the cats in the stars. Why had they not protected her? Did they not care?

Why give her so many lives only to have her suffer as she had towards the end? Fire would close her eyes in an attempt to ground herself, to keep the bile that rose in her throat from turning to vomit. It would be the voice of Starlingkit that jolts her from her shocked state and moving quickly the flame-pelted warrior would rush forward to attempt to stop the kit from getting any closer. "No, no Starlingkit. Don't look, little one."

Her words were as more a plea than anything else. It was a beg that the warrior was hoping the kitten would listen to in her attempt to keep the horrible image away from the kitten's eyes. She wanted her to remember her as she last saw her, strong and noble, not the mangled mess she was now on the thunder path. Tears streamed down the warrior's muzzle, despite wanting to be strong for her late leader's child, the grief was simply too much. ​

 

[FLICKERFIRE]

She'd been prepared, with the rest of ShadowClan's able-bodied warriors, to begin the journey back to camp. Flickerfire absently pushes the remaining kits back into place as Briarstar angrily stalks off to find her more unruly sons. The tortoiseshell thinks nothing of it, nothing at all, until the shrill wail of a child pierces through even the harsh crackle of the Thunderpath through the tunnel.

"StarClan, what now?" Her words are gruff, but her heart begins its frantic dance, and her body feels cold despite the surface burns on her skin, despite the warmth of the green-leaf sun. Something isn't right. That wasn't a normal cry of a kit being punished or a kit in pain.

It was a sound she recognized from her kithood. A keening sound, the grief raw and agonizing and tangible.

Flickerfire smells what's occurred before she sees it. The overwhelming sea of blood that coats the asphalt causes her to stumble and gag. Briarstar, or what's left of her, spasming until she lies entirely still.

"B-Briarstar?" Flickerfire's voice is hoarse. She had nine lives, didn't she? How could they all be gone just like that? Just like she were a normal cat being struck by a monster?

She stumbles besides her Clanmates, orange eyes dull with grief. Marrowkit cries blindly. Pitchsun has to be physically removed from the Thunderpath. Bonejaw laughs, but the sound is unnerving, terrifying, born of a pain Flickerfire knows all too well and wishes she didn't. "Bury her at Fourtress." Bury her... bury her where her war had ended... where her mate had died.

Flickerfire sags against Firedawn, her voice hoarse. "She's gone? She's really gone? Just like that?" The only leader she's ever known is Briarstar. The only cat she's ever even remotely respected, the one who'd allowed her entrance into ShadowClan's territory when she was a foolish and angry girl who wanted the world to hurt as she did. Briarstar? Briarstar is gone?

The tortoiseshell looks at Pitchsun, and the pity burning in her heart is hot and slow. "He has to lead us now?" Her voice is a murmur.
​

PENNED BY MARQUETTE​

 

[Fleecefur]

Cat voices rose up in horror and she arrived on the scene not for concern but curiousity's sake. The aftermath of a new era, the end of a queen, the blood splattered black pavement that seemed far too red and far too bright. Briarstar was dead and all she had left for the seal point to claim was a boring name.

What had happened to her lives? She had been told StarClan blessed each leader with none and Briarstar had been specifically chosen by them to lead ShadowClan. It was not surprising Fleecefur remained only for the convienence that clan life provided, but she had a vested interest in how this method of life prolonging worked, it was a quiet study she had been undergoing; keeping an eye and ear out for signs of fading life to test the stars pull and see just how glorious their power was. Only for this. Only for this mess to be displayed before her. A dead leader. Hit by a single monster, despite its size she should be standing back up to continue ordering them around, she should not be in several pieces and barely a cat any longer.

"What happened to nine lives?!" She sounded furious, but the true source of her anger was not one that was apparent. To anyone she outside she may have been screaming her rage in grief, but the truth was she felt cheated. It was unclear if ShadowClan had simple been forsaken or if the clans in general were the result of one, great sick joke from the stars above. She had never believed any of that nonsense and she certainly didn't care to be converted, but she had highly coveted the idea of immortality; to live long beyond your own mortal means and tread the world forever. Seeing the one thing she had even cared about being thrashed about across the thunderpath in broken black and red flashes was the true travesty here. Maybe Briarstar was just not worthy of the lives given and they had been taken back, perhaps she was too weak, had not utilized them properly when needed; Fleecefur had no clue and she would never know now.

It is Flickerfire's comment that catches her ear, they twitch lightly before both ice-blue eyes find Pitchsun's mournful form racked with sobs and cries for his mother, but she does not see the grieving tom. She sees an opportunity to learn more...
He would lead them, which meant he would need StarClan's blessing. Would they give it? Would they not? Time would tell. With a sharp turn she was making her way away from the macabre scene; she didn't care and she wasn't going to pretend she did for much longer.
​

 

[PITCHSTAR]

The world around him has faded into a meaningless haze. All Pitchsun knows is his mother's body beneath him, eviscerated and quickly cooling. The screams and wails are nothing but a buzzing in his flattened ears. He couldn't tell which belonged to him, and which belonged to his clanmates.

But time would not stop for him to grieve. Teeth embed themselves into his scruff, and Pitchsun screeches as he's pulled away from his mother. "NO, let me go! Don't leave her there!" Chilledgaze's low growl barely reaches him through the tinnitus. He doesn't care, he doesn't care if she's gone. He couldn't leave her to grow cold and wither away. To be ground into the Thunderpath by the relentless paws of monsters to come.

Pitchsun lashes out blindly, claws unsheathed. Hot tears blur his vision. But despite his struggling, the pair manage to make it to the safety of the grass. Once Chilledgaze relinquishes their grip on his scruff, the pitiful excuse of a deputy would crumple beneath his own weight. Too weak to run back to his mother, he lies there, broken sobs shaking his body.​

 

[ravenpaw x]

would you do anything for me?

For a while, Ravenkit just ignored it. Her clanmates were rushing by her in a panicked flurry, but she was comfortable and she was content. There wasn't a chance she was going to let them bother her right now. Whatever was going on, they could surely handle it. They were the warriors of the clan after all, that was their job. To protect important people like her.

Then someone mentioned her mother's name.

Her ears perked up, and she pulled her head up from her paws. In a moment, she was walking, following the crowd. With wide eyes and wandering paws she moves out from under the bridge, but she is stopped. Held back with Starlingkit. She hears it at the same time her sibling does, the cry echoing through the clan.

Briarstar is dead.

Ravenkit blinked. Then she blinked again. "What? No." That wasn't possible, it just wasn't. It couldn't happen. "She's not dead. She has nine lives, she isn't dead!" The jet black molly denied fervently, with more passion than she had said anything else in her life. She tried to push past the cats holding her back. "Just let me see and I'll show you, Mom's not dead!"​

​

​

 

[hailpaw.]

Unable to stop herself, Hailpaw would find herself running after her mentor, pausing momentarily as a cough wracked her body before freezing beside her. It was a horrible scene, and the apprentice would never be able to forget it. Unfortunately for her, she’d be met with flashbacks of her own parents, dying a similarly horrifying death. Shaking, she’d open her jaws to speak, failing to get words out. Staring, she’d painfully be aware of the screams and cries of her clanmates around her. It was an odd feeling, almost as if she were outside her body looking down upon the clan. Of course, in reality, she was rooted to the ground, staring blankly at what remained of their leader.
​

✦ ★ ✦​