sensitive topics in the cold, cold, cold 𓇢𓆸 death

[honeysucklepaw]

The march into the plains of WindClan is marked by a lightness of steps that Honeysucklepaw had never seen in... any of them. All of them marked free from the wire cage walls of camp. It is an illusory entrapment, only held to by the demands of their society, one that shifts with the seasons, leaving new laws to bloom with every spring. She should be considered lucky, to be placed under such protections that hadn't been afforded to those older than her... those who'd died unprepared and afraid, barely more than weaned.

Traveling through the thin grasses and shifting blooms, she cannot remember what WindClan looked like before the fires, she'd been nothing more than a thought then. This is as vibrant as she's ever seen this territory and would grow alongside it, fed by the ashes of what had burnt. Her eyes skim the skyline in wonder, curious just how far the horizon goes, how far she'd have to go to reach it.. if it could be caught. Had anyone ever chased the sun? Probably... but maybe she'd be the first to wrap it in her paws.

Glancing at Brokenpaw, guilt gnaws at her belly in equal parts with frustration. Out of habit she'd wandered closer to him, to struggle to match two of her strides for every one of his... now she pulls away sharply, pointedly... a reminder that his silence at the meeting had earned her ire.

The bright shine of mischievous eyes catches her attention, met with a giddy voice that goads them into play.... Play? Honeysucklepaw's ears sit forward in surprise, staring at her mother in shock. It wasn't like she enjoyed playing moss-ball or tag... what would they play.. and why now? Had she truly only been so miserable because she'd been trapped in camp too?

"I'll pretend to be Cottonsprig," she declares, hoping to find some sort of comfort in pretending to be the missing molly. What did... medicine cats do anyways? Grab flowers? Lick wounds? Stare at the sky?

To play... and relish in the freedom of land left untraveled still. Honeysucklepaw cannot deny the shiver of excitement that runs down her spine and without hesitation, she races along the moors to find what exactly a honeysuckle might be... to bequeath to her mother so that she might never, ever forget that her daughter loves her. Maybe she'd discover a new purpose for the sweet-smelling flowers that she could tell Wolfsong about- maybe no one had thought to try.

She scours with untrained eyes, plucking a pale, spotted flower before snaking her way back towards her family, grassy eyes squinted joyously as she finds a fresh rabbit caught under her mother's paws. "Do you think... honeysuckles taste like honey," she asks, setting it down on top of the prey with a satisfied smile. She'd never seen one before... had never tried it.

Mintshade seems emboldened, unbothered, sitting forward confidently to take a bite of both rabbit and petalled decor. She giggles, softly, glancing towards Brokenpaw to tell him something when the black-furred she-cat beside them gives a startling cough. "Uh...... a-are you okay?" Concern pinches the space between her brows- had the honeysuckle not tasted like honey like it was named?

please wait for @brokenpaw ♠
-- plot twist; it's not a honeysuckle...

mother tell me 𓇢𓆸 will you stay?

• 
  'impersonation of a tainted idol'
• HONEYSUCKLEPAW
  - ward of wind-swept moors
  - she/her
  - daughter to mintshade and gracklestep
  
  - a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes

​

 

[brokenpaw ♠]

————————————————————⊰♠♠♠⊱———————————————————
Beyond the brittle gorse of camp had held sights that Brokenpaw had only caught a glimpse of in the one instance he had smuggled himself out of camp to tail after Wolfsong and Sunstar. A bad first choice, he had quickly learned, as the pair of mates were united in the highest authority of the Clan.

His gait is not as excitedly clumsy as his sisters, however, his eyes drinking in all they could. Assessing, remembering, calculating, wondering, What were the names of these plants, what lurked in these parts of the hills, where did the curves of these tunnels leads that they passed? What would happen if he stayed out here, never coming back to camp but instead sleeping at the highest point of the moors and as close to the stars possible, as WindClanners proudly foretold.

Brokenpaw twitched an ear as Honeysucklepaw sharply diverted from his side, yellow sights squinting accusingly before deciding to let it go. It wasn't his fault Sunstar had chosen him as an apprentice. What was he to do about it? He never listened to what Brokenpaw wanted, anyway.

It felt odd to be out of camp all together, though. As a family, Mintshade had put it. When had they ever done anything with the three of them before? Or with any of their other kin? He shared his sisters track of thought that the nursery was an ill-inducing place, that perhaps their mother was a truly different cat when placed back in the role of a tunneler.

I'll pretend to be Cottonsprig. Honeys love for their cousin was far more affectionate than he would show, and he stood there, quiet for a moment before deciding. "I will be... Brokenpaw." He decided with a calm nod, ears twitching back and forth at his mothers snickering. Honeysucklepaw left to find some 'herbs' to give him while he pretended to have a thorn in his paw, and Mintshade dramatically demonstrated how to catch a rabbit.

'It will help the herbs go down.' She said, and he found himself impressed with how easy she made it look.

But there was no time for her to correct the stance he mimicked, as his sister returned with her special herbs, claiming them as her namesake.

Brokenpaw offered Honeysucklepaw his make believe injured paw to care for when their mother began to choke, and a teeth-baring grimace pulled back his lips as she looked at them with foam-coated jowls and wide eyes.

INLAND EMPIRE - SUCCESS

Fear. He could read it so plainly on her face it struck him straight through the chest.

"She's- It's bad!" He croaked to his sister, reaching for his mothers face as she fell to her side, writhing, while he attempted to calm her... somehow.

EMPATHY - SUCCESS

"Calm... Stay calm." Brokenpaw looked toward his twin, unsure of what to do. Camp was too grand of a distance away to get Mintshade any immediate help. Whatever Honeys had given her, or whatever the rabbit had eaten before, was coursing through their mother's body in violent shockwaves. What else were they to do than helplessly comfort her? "Come here." He commanded the other.

It felt all too quick when Mintshade stopped convulsing, her energy, her life, trembling and fading away. Brokenpaw stood from his mothers side to swipe away the remaining torn petals off the rabbit and hurriedly burying it beneath the earth."Rabbit's bad." He didn't look to his sister, his untrained paws (no matter the fact he was not meant to be a tunneler at all) taking all his focus. "Nothing else."

---​

Though his face remained dry and his eyes unblinking, his paws felt like they were strapped with stones. His heart felt still, as if it had stopped with hers. Why couldn't he cry? He was sad, he was devastated, his sister and himself just watched themselves become orphans. His twin left inconsolable, changed forever. What was wrong with him?

His mother finally grew still has he kicked the last bit of coarse soil over the evidence and reunited with her now-cold side. Their mother was dead. Mintshade, in all her distant care and arms-length kindness, died in a final, perhaps only, act of love.

♠ i swear to god, i did what i could ———— ♠ i practically begged you

•  
• 
  
  
  Brokenkit
  —⊰⋅ apprentice of windclan | 6 months
  —⊰⋅ he/him
  —⊰⋅ mintshade x gracklestep
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ sh solid black tom with yellow eyes
  

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

"Thank you. I am already missing the wind in my fur," Bluefrost murmurs to her companion as they crest a heather-blown hill. Amidst the violets and golds of the moorland, Bluefrost's pelt is like new woodsmoke shot with silver; her maned face tilts skyward, toward the core of the sun, and she drinks its warmth like a starving flower. I have spent my life beneath the earth, but I have only started feeling cooped up recently, she reflects. And she still has moons ahead of her, moons where she will be hunkered into the nursery with helpless, feeble kits sucking at her belly, clambering over her with needle-sharp claws...

She sighs, turning gratefully toward Sunstar. "I know you have better things to do than take queens for walks." There's a twinge of curiosity in her voice, though she does not outright question her leader. "We should —"

Something strained catches her ears; she flicks them forward, a trouble clouding her green gaze. Under the knoll, she sees three shadowy figures, two small, crouched over a larger body that lies still as carrion.

There is the scent of new-death on the breeze, now. A chill shoots down Bluefrost's spine. "Sunstar," she hisses. "Look!"

She breaks into an ungainly trot, her belly swinging from side to side as she makes her way toward her kin. It's Honeysucklepaw and Brokenpaw; she knows their scents well, though not as well as she knows Mintshade's, overlain with foam-flecked blood. StarClan, no! She halts, panting, beside the wreckage. Brokenpaw has gone to comfort his trembling sister; the two of them sit near a partially-eaten rabbit, its innards exposed to the air.

Mintshade's mouth and whiskers tell of recently-eaten prey. Her breath hitches in her throat. "Honeysucklepaw, Brokenpaw, what has happened?" Her tone is strained, stern but breaking. Mintshade, we have never been as close as we could have had we been any other family, but I never wished to see you this way. She bites her tongue, and the taste of salt runs red against her tongue.

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

• ooc: with @SUNSTAR :(
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 17 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan lead warrior and queen. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ He had been reluctant to let them leave. A useless notion now, but easier to think of a time before — even just a few horrible moments. Mintshade was free of the nursery and he had thought briefly of the time of younger apprentices; she would be racing the moors again already and their form of play would not be so misplaced on paws that now must learn to work. She would have had time to regrow her strength and see the full beauty of their recovering moorland. She would have laughed with him again. In another lifetime — and now, things would never again be the same.

It was meant to be a simple thing. It left him time to speak to the others, to look about camp one final time as a leader in full, and not as a mentor to be. (To a particularly troublesome apprentice, it would seem. He still thinks of his sister's outburst in the meeting; Scorchstorm's clear disapproval. Each incident chips at his certainty that he could teach Brokenpaw well. A terrible fate for a leader.) The troubles keep rolling in.

"It is good to stretch my legs, and you yours. I remember how terrible it was for Wolfsong to feel cooped up. At least he had the herbs to keep him company. You have little to do but wait." Sunstar's maw twitches into a near-smile. Perhaps it is more for his benefit than hers, in truth. Looking at her is a reminder of their regrowth, for his worries to begin melting away. Not only was she here, alive, no longer ensnared to the path her mother had carved for her, but she brings new life to WindClan with a strong legacy behind them. With Cottonfang's disappearance. . . it feels, at times, that she is all that remains of the good in her family.

Mintshade, friend that she may have been to him, was a poor mother. Her disinterest in her kits was — he should have been surprised, he knows that now, to hear her ask for an adventure with them. He will wonder later if she knew this would come. A final moment to right what wrongs she had committed. And it turned out so terribly. Bluefrost runs, but in her state Sunstar is faster. He reaches Mintshade's body as she speaks to her kin, asking after what had happened. As if it is not written plain as the sun across her face. The blood, and the fear.

Whatever he may smell on the air, illness and death and grief alongside, Sunstar presses his nose into her pelt as if to feel for her heartbeat. As if it could be the rabbit alone that tainted the air, and not the cat that he had relied upon through the height of Sootstar's rule. There is nothing. Of course there is nothing, and so the shining tom settles upon his belly to reach out with his remaining paw, trembling with the restraint of softness, to sweep her eyelids over glassy green. Fear had stained her death mask, and he does not want to see it any longer.

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞06.17⌝ 🟒ᨒ

• 

  ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. —
  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

• 
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
  
  
  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove.

• "speech"

​

 

[honeysucklepaw]

Stay calm....

Her ears ring like there has been a thunderclap just beside them, pine-needle eyes staring in transfixed horror as her mother's movements grow frantic... then slow... then stop all together. How do you.... stay calm.... when she looked so scared? He offers a gruff, short-worded command and her normal spiteful nature is forgotten, quickly closing the few paces between them with rigid steps. It didn't matter... nothing changed with the change of position. She could still see it. Could still hear the last wheezing breath. Brokenpaw's more prone to action than she's ever seen him, getting up quickly to mutter about the rabbit. That it was the rabbit's fault. That there was no other fault to look for.

The sinking feeling in her chest says otherwise.... but she doesn't find the words to admit it.

A thundering of pawsteps move across the plains in awkward gaits- their smells are familiar, frustratingly so. Bluefrost, whose attention she'd pined for most of her kithood... of course she'd find her now, see her now. And Sunstar... her pelt prickles hot with shame and discomfort, unwilling to even look at him as he brushes past them to do something with Mintshade.

'What has happened?' All she can hear is Brokenpaw's flat voice saying, 'Rabbit's bad.' Over and over, insistent, certain... or just hoping to be certain? "I..." She swallows past the lump in her throat, licks her lips nervously to wet a dry mouth, glancing nervously up at the alarmed queen and wishing she'd just combust into a burst of honeysuckles like she was named for and ride the wind away from this. "It was an accident," she says though she's still not sure what the accident even was.

Was it... the flowers? Or the rabbit like Brokenpaw said? Why did her mother eat any of it? Why didn't she know better? She was old enough to know, right? "She was eating and then... and then she was choking and...." That was it. Nervously, she curls her tail around her paws, hunkering down and flattening her ears for fear of some sort of punishment.

Bluefrost was going to be so angry with them.... and Sunstar and Scorchstreak and Cottonsprig, if she ever came back. They were all going to be so mad at them. Would she even get to go out with Cricketcry anymore? What if she was banished? Would Sunstar banish an apprentice over an accident? Suddenly, she realizes she knows very little about the adults around her, their histories. They'd lived a long time before her... had they always been as kind as they'd pretended to be when she was still kit-sized?

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes and finally, she stares at Sunstar's paws, "Please don't exile us," she begs, already determining in her head that this must be the next step. That the worst case is the only case.

mother tell me 𓇢𓆸 will you stay?

• 
  'what a cruel burden love is'
• HONEYSUCKLEPAW
  - ward of cricketcry of wind-swept moors
  - she/her
  - orphan daughter to mintshade and gracklestep
  
  a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes

​

 

[Cricketcry]

𓆧 Please don't exile us, Honeysucklepaw's plea is heard by Cricketcry, hunched downwards with nostrils flaring. The plea makes him straighten and then kick into a light sprint up an incline towards his apprentice and more surprisingly, Sunstar and Bluefrost. He'd seen Honeysucklepaw and Brokenpaw leave with their mother but worry consumed him when they had not returned from their outing in a time reasonable to him.

Mintshade's body, horribly stiff besides her children. He approaches, tail lashing and fur standing on end as the scent of death filled his senses; but, he could not be sure if it were from the black molly or the ravaged rabbit. Cricketcry's attention flicks- from gentle gesture of Sunstar as he brushes Mintshade's eyelids downwards to cover glazed-over eyes- to Honeysucklepaw and Brokenpaw. "Y-y-you'll not...be exiled-d-d," he rasps his assurance (though the decision is not up to him, but how could a death so unclear in its nature be pinned upon these two?) He speaks to to the two youths but his eyes are settled upon Honeysucklepaw, ever present frown softening.

Cricketcry feels a strange guilt writhe in his throat. It's not even been a half turn of the moon and Cricketcry feels a responsibility for the inky she-cat. Witnessing death, so young... It does not matter to him if Mintshade was a poor mother, for his own parents raised him with a disconnectedness that rivaled Mintshade's parenting... but death, so close and personal... Something clicks in him and he clears his throat and murmurs, "Sunstar, I can carry her back with your help-p-p. Perhaps... q-questions can be saved for later?" Cricketcry would see no point in interrogating the two when the loss is so fresh... the body so close. He offers a small, apologetic nod to Bluefrost. He knew in some way her and Mintshade were related but at the moment their familial connection was lost on himself.

WHITE NOISE, WHAT AN AWFUL SOUND

• OOC—
  
• CRICKETCRY —— Tunneler of Windclan 𓆧
  𓆧 he/him/ 28 ☾ [/color]
  𓆧 petite, reclusive, & wistful [/color]
  𓆧 has a slight limp [/color]
  𓆧 lh chocolate tabby/fawn chimera [/color]

​

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