- Jan 22, 2023
- 187
- 55
- 28
the evening is damp with remnants of early morning showers ; her fur frizzes a halo of red - black around semi - drenched limbs, stepping high and careful through the sleek undergrowth. she yawns, lazily, because daylight is just beginning to dim, beginning to paint the forest in shades of dappled gold and she had been up since dawn patrol ( flamewhisker was just as out to get her as her mate had been. her heart aches for a split moment. ). there is nothing but the low drum of hoverflies and drip - drip - drip of rain seep from canopies overhead, not even the press of her own careful steps disturbing the crisp greenleaf evening as she pulls from her patrol and heads towards where she'd buried a squirrel safely aside snakerocks. the sooner she retrieved it the sooner she could return, flop down into her nest and snore her way 'til morning . . if she could manage it.
the recent exile of her clanmates left a hole where once sat peace, safety. the way they'd skulked and snapped away, bit at howlingstar with words she'd never imagined . . couldn't imagine saying to anyone, let alone a leader. it wasn't as if the clan didn't see, didn't whisper of how much howlingstar had slowed down in recent moons ; she'd been grey muzzled since freckleflame had been frecklekit, but she had won them sunningrocks. she had seen them through the rogue invasion, through yellowcough, through . . the wolves. was the fact that kittypets lived within their walls enough to defy her? to harm ploverhop, roaringpaw, to defend themselves to her face? to see fault in her decisions, decisions freckleflame had always felt most safe? was it the kittypet in her that felt so miserable about it?
stepping around behind a bushel of dying kudzu, there is a sudden breeze that drifts iron - scent her way. blood.
her nose twists, sniffing beneath the mist that had begun to fall light over her back as she stopped to taste the air. another step, closer to the jut of snakestones and it grows stronger, stronger . . until she spots them. or rather, she spots a bundle of red - damp fur catching the breeze at lifeless ends, and the dark stripes that cut through it spelling ploverhop in her mind. she can only gape, and gape, and gape until she realizes her throat is hurting and oh, she'd been screaming for help because ploverhop was -- ploverhop was . . and she needed her patrolmates before her sudden, devastated sway swept her sideways. only the scent of thunderclan fills her senses beyond the heady scent of blood, of pain she cannot imagine. there are lacerations all along their pelt, and a puddle murking further brown beneath their unmoving body.
she sucks in a breath, and as pawsteps sound behind her, croaks a hoarse, ” ploverhops, they’ve been . . they’re dead. “ starclan guide them.
the recent exile of her clanmates left a hole where once sat peace, safety. the way they'd skulked and snapped away, bit at howlingstar with words she'd never imagined . . couldn't imagine saying to anyone, let alone a leader. it wasn't as if the clan didn't see, didn't whisper of how much howlingstar had slowed down in recent moons ; she'd been grey muzzled since freckleflame had been frecklekit, but she had won them sunningrocks. she had seen them through the rogue invasion, through yellowcough, through . . the wolves. was the fact that kittypets lived within their walls enough to defy her? to harm ploverhop, roaringpaw, to defend themselves to her face? to see fault in her decisions, decisions freckleflame had always felt most safe? was it the kittypet in her that felt so miserable about it?
stepping around behind a bushel of dying kudzu, there is a sudden breeze that drifts iron - scent her way. blood.
her nose twists, sniffing beneath the mist that had begun to fall light over her back as she stopped to taste the air. another step, closer to the jut of snakestones and it grows stronger, stronger . . until she spots them. or rather, she spots a bundle of red - damp fur catching the breeze at lifeless ends, and the dark stripes that cut through it spelling ploverhop in her mind. she can only gape, and gape, and gape until she realizes her throat is hurting and oh, she'd been screaming for help because ploverhop was -- ploverhop was . . and she needed her patrolmates before her sudden, devastated sway swept her sideways. only the scent of thunderclan fills her senses beyond the heady scent of blood, of pain she cannot imagine. there are lacerations all along their pelt, and a puddle murking further brown beneath their unmoving body.
she sucks in a breath, and as pawsteps sound behind her, croaks a hoarse, ” ploverhops, they’ve been . . they’re dead. “ starclan guide them.
-
i. takes place after this thread!!
-
-
-
AND I AM A WITNESS WATCHING ITFRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. TWENTY MOONS OLD. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY! NAMED A WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORING BRAVEPAW! PENNED BY ANTLERS
-----------------------------------------she / her, eldest daughter of rabbitnose and the late sunfreckle. big, fluffy cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. she is fire - forged, smoldering ; something bright and voracious, radiant as the blazes that once raged through her homeland. shades of vibrant russet, dousing swathes of shadow and interwoven with ribbons pale cream come to drape like licks of flame over her hulking form. a heft of roundness settles comfortably upon her form in adulthood, padding muscle hardened by her life in the forest and yet still partially concealed beneath a tangled thicket of undergrowth - laden pelt. warriorhood had brought her to full height ; kittypet lineage showing itself in glimpses of rotund paws and tufted, long - furred toes set upon thick, tabby - splotched limbs. she is broad shouldered and square - jawed, wild cheek fur like the blazing edges of a red sun — a mirrors image of her late father, sunfreckle, and just as warm.
