sensitive topics LIFE IMITATES LIFE .☘︎ ݁˖ BIRTHING

[Gladefrost]

TW FOR CHILDBIRTH, DEATH AND BLOOD. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Seconds, minutes, day and weeks passed with a breeze. She'd never expected herself to be pregnant until she could no longer stomach her food and the morning sickness hit her like a boat. Gladefrost knew that her love for Slateheart was a forbidden one and the guilty gnawed at her, especially once she could no longer hide her pregnancy, a mistake, but she'd been honorable her whole life. Would her children have to grow hated by their clan, much like Splashdance received hate for being of another clan? What if they harmed her children just as easily as Beefang murdered Roepaw's father and banished Swiftfire? Every day was a war of moral and love: a love for her clan and Slateheart, the morals of confessing her sin of her wrongdoings. Thus, the guilt caved, and she confessed indirectly to Robinheart without saying the extent of her sins.

Her response? Everyone makes mistakes… you don’t have to tell me your mistake, but just know that it would not change how much I care for you. And how much I will love and care for your children.

Seeking solace from constant worry, she found refuge in those words and sought her beloved under the next moon. While the full moon shone above them, they deliberated over names for their kittens, considering both the reasons and the people they would be named after. Among his favorites were a couple of names - one inspired by her, Moon, and the other honoring his sister, Ashpaw. Love gleamed in her chambray eyes as she contemplated names and the cats they would be named after. Her list? Among the individuals she held in high regard and admired were Robinheart, Magpiepaw, Frecklepaw, Lichenstar, and a few others. His list? It consisted of those close to him, ranging from Lilypaw (who sadly died by Duskclan), his two mothers and brother and Windclan based names.

As the sun slowly raised over the horizon, the star-crossed lovers promised under the fading moon and stars to meet before the kittens came again. It would be moons before she would lay her gaze upon her mate once more and Gladefrost wished to have one last goodbye until they met again. Mismatched paws carry herself to the neutral ground of the territory, having found an excuse to leave her escort, her nature cautious in case Dimmingsun had found them again. The moon lightens the area and the sight of her mate comes in sight, her ears instantly perking in happiness as she calls out, ”S-Slateheart!” The heavily pregnant queen calls out with a bright smile tracing her lips as she moves forward and bumps her head against his chin with a purr.

With the loss of Magpiepaw and Frecklepaw's assessment coming up, she had been drowning. He was her breath of air after such a difficult time and she wraps her plumed tail around his, ”I missed you, my moon. I look like a bubble, huh?” Gladefrost would inquire with a giggle as she feels a light kick and she gasps in surprise and shoots a glance at the tom-cat with a bright grin. ”Huh, they seem to be saying hi, my love!” Her voice was light and filled with laughter for the first time since the death of her sibling as she leans against Slateheart. Her gaze sits on her stomach as a sharp pain shoots through her stomach that causes her to wince in pain as she cripples over and forces a strained smile.

”I-I'm fine...” Glade quickly reassures as she notes the concerned expression of the Windclanner as another contraction hits her. It couldn't be, could it? The chocolate rosette tabby thinks as she tried to remember how Robinheart's and Claythorn's pregnancy went and her heart races, jumping and twirling at the thought that maybe her kittens could be coming along now. She had to get back to camp - she couldn't risk her children being treated like Splashdance, Swiftfire's kittens or getting Slateheart in trouble. Her limbs felt weak as she stiffles a cry and glances at Slateheart, her ears pinning as she spits out her next words: ”I-I think they're coming...” The skip of contractions were now steady and she leans into her mate's black and white frame for support.

---

Amongst the pain and the occasional rasps of Slateheart's tongue against her forehead, she focused. Her kittens refused to wait until she was home and they seemed to accept their early coming, it had been longer, if she remembered correctly for Robinheart's. Her crescent claws dug into the ground as the first kitten emerged: a bundle of blue rosette reflecting their grandfather's coat and black from their father that dyed across their coat. As she smiled and rasped her tongue across the newborn girl's coat, her chambray gaze twinkled at the memory of her father's blue coat. ”S-She looks just like a storm,” Gladefrost murmurs as she nudges the child to her stomach and whispers softly, ”Stormkit. I like that... I bet you'll be feisty just like my sibling and brave like your grandfather was...” A moment's break is short-lived as she grunts in pain, blood staining the grass as she pushed and bite into her lip to resist screaming in pain.

Minutes pass as the second born came to light, a bright reflection of Slateheart that causes her to glance at the tom-cat. ”Sh-She looks just like you, my moon...” Gladefrost murmurs as her gaze adverts back to her black and white daughter, grooming her fur to help warm her up before nudging her forth to her stomach. ”M-My little Moonkit... You look so much like your father, what am I going to do with you...?” Her whispers are weak as tiredness drags at her body yet she forces her eyes to stay open. Her paws shift closer to her body as she presses into Slateheart's dark coat for warmth as she steadies herself.

”I-I'm feeling tired... How about you name the next one...?” The umber tabby murmurs as her third child refuses to wait much longer before wanting to be introduced to the world. Blood dampens her coat as she weakly looks at her third child, a soft resembling of her coat with lighter colors and chocolate splotching across their lanky frame with white all about. Her chambray gaze watches the kitten for a moment as she slowly nudges her forth to her stomach, her eyes threatening to close as she listens to Slateheart's nervous voice name the child. Valleykit. That was a beautiful name. ”V-Valleykit... Do you like the name... your dad gave you?” Tears prick at her gaze as she knew something was wrong and she was too far for help. There was too much blood, and she still had kittens to deliver. What would happen to her children?

A soft cough leaves her body as there's a shadow of a figure in the peripheral of her vision, yet she refuses to look. Gladefrost refuses to look, even if someone were to force her to look in that direction. Contractions hit her once more and her tired body forces herself to deliver the fourth child, smaller than the others, yet similar to the third-born with her lilac coloring. Her coat's rosettes and tabby stripes resembled that of a flower or even the crops that could be found - leading her to think of a name to distract herself. ”R-Ryekit... You look like a little flower...” She finally murmurs as she nudges the chimera to her stomach amongst the other three before steeling herself for the fifth and final.

”D-Do you... want to name the last one... my moon?” Gladefrost would murmur as she notices the tears in her mate's green eyes and offers him a reassuring smile. Everything would be fine. No matter what happened, you wouldn't be alone - my love. The final kitten was soon joined in the world with a striking chocolate coat similar to hers. She uses the final bit of her strength to groom her chocolate fur to warm her up and bringing her to her stomach before allowing her head to rest after exhausting herself from birthing five kittens. Slateheart names their final daughter as Gorsekit and she smiles at the name bestowed to the small runt of her litter. Gorsekit - she was thinking of that name after Lichenstar. A memory to the woman that granted her wish to live a new life under a new name which she believed she failed everyone else. ”Gorsekit...” Glade copies with a whisper as she weakly brings her attention to Slateheart.

”I... always believed I wasn't worthy of love... until I met you...” The umber tabby would murmur as she smiles through the pain as death curls its' claws around her. ”Y-Yet even in my darkest times... you were always there with me... shining above with the moon...” Gladefrost would admit as tears stream down her cheek as she touches her nose to his, and chokes between sobs. ”I-I love you, Slateheart. You're my stars and my moon... Even if something happens to me... be strong and happ-y... for our children.” Her once vibrant gaze slowly fades as she rests her head down and her gaze drifts off to the figure that once stood by sprinkled with the stars from the Silverpelt myself. A final breath is taken as her father finally touches his nose to hers to claim her spot amongst the Silverpelt, and as a member of Starclan.
​

 

[slateheart]

Through his time of mourning, Slateheart's only vivid thoughts were of Gladefrost. His first love, albeit a forbidden one. Her laugh, her gaze, her soft fur pressed against him.. and now, her kits graced his mind. Their kits. A bittersweet thought, always; he was going to be a joyful father, but.. to kittens he may never know.

They had agreed to meet one last time. Gladefrost was insistent on seeing him before the kittens came, and he was on board at first.. but as the time nears, he recognizes the danger that it poses. If a predator caught her, could she run? If she slipped into the river, could she swim? The moor-runner meets his friend that very night, a mere moments before his departure. " Dimmingsun, " Slateheart greets in a hushed, urgent voice. " I'm going to meet Gladefrost, but.. I have a bad feeling. Would you accompany me, just in case?.. "

And so, the two leave for camp. Slateheart's heart thumps with anticipation, an excited and overpowering love that never waned no matter how many times he sees his beloved. Alongside him, Dimmingsun's emotions are once again a mystery to him. The guilt of selfishness is swallowed like thick poison.

It is reassuring to see Gladefrost, alive and well despite all of his (sometimes irrational) fears and worries. Leaving Dimmingsun at the edge of the clearing and forcing away that nagging concern for his friend's thoughts, the black-furred tom quickens his steps until the molly's head hooks under his chin in a heart-warming embrace. " I missed you, too, " he answers, and means it - she was his light in the dark, his sunshine that parts the storms. Distance really does make the heart fonder, doesn't it?

Kits. He'd almost forgotten, so focused on seeing her again. Almost didn't notice the roundness of her belly, like they may arrive any day - or at least so he guesses, as little informed as he is. Gladefrost speaks so fondly of them, planting a small smile upon his features.. but his brows tighten with concern once more. Soon enough, all of his worries are answered. No, not now.. he pleads, as his mate doubles over. No medicine cat, no knowledge.. and Dimmingsun, just around the corner, what would he think..?



The first kit seems.. easy. Of course, he's not the one delivering - it all looks easier to him than it really is. A worried but blissful grin is thrown her way as she introduces her first child. " Hello, Stormkit, " he coos, reaching down to help lap at the kitten's damp fur. Warm and moving, with a mouth agape for food. His little Stormkit is safe.

The next kitten proves to be harder work. Moonlight glimmers off the blood that stains the ground below, and Slateheart reaches into the depths of his mind to try and remember the kittings of his Clanmates.. none of which he had attended. He doesn't have much time to wonder, is this normal? before another kitten arrives, a mirage of black-and-white, like himself and Gravelsnap. " Welcome, little Moonkit.. may you be just as vibrant as your mother. " For she was named for him, similarly, he will call her Moonkit for his beloved.

Tired. Of course. Three kits is a perfect amount.. Slateheart hopes that she can rest soon. The stench of blood stings his nose, only increasing in strength, and he feels a lump form in his throat, so that he may only nervously croak out the name for his third daughter. " Valleykit. " For Gladefrost - a beautiful meadow of peace and tranquility.

Somewhere behind, Slateheart thinks he hears a rustle. Dimmingsun must have noticed by now, the scents of blood and newborn kits. He waits to be ushered away from the queen, to allow her to depart with their children, and his heart pleads for anything but. What he thought was the last kitten soon proves to be only a third - as a pale kitten arrives much quieter than the others, a timid little thing. Mousekit, he thinks, first, but does not object as Gladefrost picks a name for their little flower. " Ryekit, " he echoes, with a sad smile. Stars, why is he.. sad?

The last one. So it's over, and now.. now they can go home to RiverClan, if only there wasn't so much.. blood. Though he had not yet voiced his concerns, Slateheart trembles and coughs briefly to fight back the sobs that threaten to shake his body. His fifth daughter, for him to name - and in this moment, against all his pleas for it not to be true, he names her after her future home.. for these kits cannot leave without a mother, and he knows, stars.. he just knows. " I will name her Gorsekit. " For the moors that she - that all of them - will grow up in without Gladefrost. A knowing look is spared towards his mate, who stares at him with such warmth and acceptance that it snaps him into something akin to.. anger.

Gladefrost can't stop fighting now. Not with their daughters warm and happy at her belly. " You are worthy of love, " he insists, leaning forward to press his nose to her forehead. It is hot and feverish, and again Slateheart is reminded of the warmth that streams down his cheeks. Even as he compliments her as if everything is normal, he knows. " And worthy of this family. Bring.. bring them home, and maybe.. maybe you can show them to me when they are apprenticed.. "

But they won't be going home, will they? Neither will Gladefrost. " Stop talking like that, " Slateheart asserts, perhaps a little harsher than he intended, for he is begging now for her to find her strength. He scoots forward, ignoring the blood against his white-tipped toes, and finds himself curled around her with his chin resting on her head. I know, he thinks, pitifully.

As she speaks, Slateheart savors the things he knows he will never feel again - the vibrations of her voice against his resting chin, the rasp in her throat that one could miss if they don't pay attention, the comforting purr that rattles her weakened body. " I love you, " he repeats, as she speaks. " I love you, and.. I'll never stop. " Not even without you at my side, he vows. I will always love you.

He does not let himself sob until Gladefrost stills, and the heat from her forehead finally subsides. " I love you, " he says again throat a tight throat, drawn out and mourning. " Please, don't.. don't go, I.. " ..but she cannot hear his pleading. A new star shines above now, and Slateheart cannot bring himself to look at it. Instead, he continues to speak, as if she is not gone forever, as if she is still his. " If you see them, tell Lilypaw that I.. I love her, and I'm sorry that I let DuskClan take her from us too soon. And Rattleheart.. tell her thank you, and that her kits are growing strong. " And my father, Lynxtooth.. if he dares roam StarClan's grounds.. tell him that he's missing out on five beautiful grandkits, who will know more love than he ever showed us.

Everything grows quiet, for a few moments. Too quiet, as a voice reaches his ears, undiscernible through his grief. Empty eyes flick haphazardly to the golden paws that rush hurriedly towards him, Gladefrost, and their kits. " She's gone, " he mumbles, letting his eyes lull off to some empty nowhere, as if seeing Gladefrost's starry spirit waiting for him. " She's gone, and.. everything is worse, now. I don't know what to do. "

SLATEHEART ( he/him )​

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( ooc ) @GORSEKIT @ryekit @stormkit. @valleykit @MOONKIT @dimmingsun

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[stormkit.]

She would not remember the rasp of Slateheart's tongue against her fur in this bloody tableau, tufts of black-and-blue licked the wrong way to keep her warm. She would not remember two of the four other bundles of fur she is born beside, Stormkit's knowledge of her kin beginning and ending with Moonkit and Ryekit. And, perhaps most importantly, she would not remember her mother. Gladefrost's untimely end meant she would never be able to witness the firsts of her kits, big and small.

Stormkit had arrived in the forest with jaws parted in full-body wails, as raucous as the weather she has been named for. Even now, she squirms beside the unmoving body of the RiverClan warrior, paws splayed and occasionally pressing against the forms of her siblings. Hunger gnaws at her, but in her newness she is blissfully unaware of the grief that has settled over this scene.

✧ 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬

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  STORMKIT ✧ she/they, kit of riverclan
  
  — "a black-and-blue she-cat with blue eyes."
  — gladefrost x slateheart ; sister to moonkit & ryekit
  — speech is in #76BADB
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  

​

 

[valleykit]

The first thing that they understand in life is blood. It slicks their fur and dampens them, even though they feel the rasp of their mothers tongue- much like Stormkit, and his siblings, he will never remember it. A cry slips from their maw as they are awakened from the clutches of birth, but far quieter then that of Stormkit. Valleykit, named for their mother, reflecting that of glades and clearings, dips of rolling hills and clear blue skys high above.

It is but a few moments before she cries again, pawing at Gladefrost's body for food, for nutrients, things that may never come now. Not with how Gladefrost has already joined the stars before they even knew of their mother, not with how she would be torn from her siblings. Things that she would only begin to understand many moons in the future.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ┌── the street is for the laughter ⋅❁⋅ of young women and men ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• VALLEYKIT they/he/she, kit of windclan, two moons.
  ⭃ LH lilac tabby / chocolate mix with high white and stunning blue and yellow eyes. they are of smaller build, likely only to end up tunneler sized, and speak with a soft cadence.
  ⭃ mentored by no one / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ mated to no one / / sibling to gorsekit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[dimmingsun]

It is with no hesitance that Dimmingsun answers Slateheart's call. Last time had been a mistake — or a fortunate ordeal, depending on how you look at it —, acting on a whim and following his friend into the night. This would be different. This time, his presence is needed; needed, at least, judging by the glimmer within Slateheart's eyes.

Complex, is what this all is... Dimmingsun knows that the code should be something revered, a list of moral things to abide by if you want to be more than a rogue. He does not ultimately bat an eye at them. The only time he had used it in an argument was when he found Slateheart by Gladefrost's side, too close for anything strictly platonic, and even that was to set a reminder of consequence. Sunstar... Sunstar is forced to care for the code, like some sort of leverage by StarClan if he wants more than one life. Dimmingsun had once thought he would like to become a leader; now, with these in mind, he is not so sure anymore.

He does not offer Slateheart much on their trek, merely because the moment feels almost sacred to break with words. It is not because he judges him.



Privacy is what Slateheart and Gladefrost need. Dimmingsun is entirely content sticking to the sidelines, all senses alert and prepared for threats — whether that might entail predators or cats who should not be here to hear this.

To say it is uncomfortable would be an understatement. He is loyal towards Slateheart; definitely not Gladefrost. Hypocritical as it might be, he does not view her in nearly as good light as his friend. Call it cross-Clan rivalry... but for Slateheart's sake, Dimmingsun will aid her just as much tonight.

Is it luck or the lack thereof that he will likely never interact with her again after this? They cannot- her and Slateheart cannot, if they want to keep the facade up.

He counts every star that dots the night sky, listens for every rustle of foliage, focuses on the autumn chill... and when that is not enough, he starts counting every blade of grass in the vicinity, because he would rather do that than hear the lovey-dovey exchange behind him. It is not envy... surely. Dimmingsun has never cared for the antics of romance. Still, he wills his own mind to wander instead of craning his ears to catch a word or two.

And then, the worst part comes.

Instead of hushed whispers of affection and confessions, Gladefrost cries. Dimmingsun knows what is happening, but he harbors little knowledge of kit-birth... he does not know how much pain is normal, how much blood is normal. The iron tang hits his nose more than the chill clings to his fur. Surely it would be okay. When it's all over, him and Slateheart can try to carry her to the border and get her into the paws of a medicine cat faster...

Is it StarClan itself who curses Gladefrost? She gives birth only in exchange of her own life.

When Dimmingsun cannot sit idle any longer, and he rushes to the side of the pair, he wonders if it's been worth it. The anguish on Slateheart's face suggests otherwise.

There is little he can say. Dread sits like a stone in Dimmingsun's belly; he gazes at the scene, arguably a crime scene... "I'm sorry," he says, because what else could he utter? There are no words to mend this wrong. No amount of grief could summon Gladefrost back to life... just like no amount of grieving could yank Lilypaw from the grip of Silverpelt.

Slateheart- he looks at Slateheart and only sees the pain of losing, again and again. Dimmingsun wraps a paw around the back of his head and pulls, right into the safety of his own chest. It would do little to alleviate any of it... it would certainly not shelter Slateheart, but it is all Dimmingsun can do.

Stars, he hates feeling this damn useless.

"...we can't let them stay like this." His voice croaks when he speaks; who knows how long has passed. It is the wails of kittens that alert Dimmingsun, that brings him back into reality... cruel, cold reality. "They'll get cold." Gladefrost's body would not warm them up any longer.

And it is with Slateheart's blessing that Dimmingsun feels comfortable pelting back through the moors, hurriedly requesting Sunstar before any of their Clanmates could peer at them with confusion and curiosity.
​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ It is the first that Sunstar has left Wolfsong's side for what seems a lifetime; each step is heavy with defiance and reluctance both. He cards through the moorland like a ghost. His clanmates stare in passing. As if they too see a dead thing lingering past where eh should be. (Can he blame them for seeing the truth? That is always what he had hoped for. Honesty, and understanding. To be seen and known for what he is. It is a shame, then, that he feels so lost.)

Dimmingsun had told him pieces of Slateheart's sin. They were at Fourtrees. Sacred, neutral ground far from both camps. It is where he had so shortly refused to come. How ironic that StarClan forces his return now. There is no clan to back him up. Only a fool of a lead warrior and the disgraced one who had so shortly ago said he could not continue serving at his side. He did not deserve it. He did not understand it. Was the truth of it that he knew Sunstar's disappointment would come? Did he fear the rage that boils up through the cracks of earth and into Sunstar's very paws? The anger he had once wielded as a weapon sits upon a long-dead pyre. Ash and charcoal, the darkened remnants of bone. No flesh, no beating heart — rage without life.

As he pushes into the sheltered grove, Dimmingsun's words strike wholly true. He has given everything in the face of StarClan.

And now. . . there is nothing left.

Standing in silence about the corpse of a RiverClan queen, her blood upon his own warrior's paws, the kits that nuzzle to her belly in search of what will not be found — Sunstar's exhale quivers, and breaks. "What have you done," he rasps, cracking and weak. Cottonsprig's betrayal. Bluefrost's. The death of Bluepool, of Rattleheart and Lilypaw and Quietcrow (Tigerfrost, Weaselclaw, the list of his friends tallies more in death than he now had in life). Wolfsong's illness, too, rests upon those shoulders — blood-red and thick with fur, sloped low. "Slateheart. . . "

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 ️️️ ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈? ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞09.15⌝

• ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 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,
  
  
  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 — and very little energy left to do so, after a long list of betrayals on his council.

​

 

[slateheart]

"They can't stay like this. They'll get cold," Dimmingsun says, and Slateheart suddenly struggles to meet his eyes. What a twisted reality - his mate is dead, and his kittens are soon to follow, with no help in sight. How is he supposed to get home.. with five kittens? If he makes it, then what? He will face the same scorn Periwinklebreeze and Sootspot did, tenfold, for a beloved RiverClan queen lays dead within Fourtrees, and it is only a matter of time before she is found and WindClan's famous kit-thievery reputation returns with Slateheart at the helm.

It twists his heart with something vicious. To preserve his own reputation, he would damn WindClan's; and to preserve WindClan's, he will damn himself. There is nothing else he must do. " We - we need Sunstar, " Slateheart mutters at last. " It's time.. he knows the truth. I cannot keep my kits safe without it. "



And so, Dimmingsun takes off. Without the concerned voice of his, the air is eerily still and quiet. It is only until one of his daughters makes a peep that Slateheart remembers where he is. The body he holds himself against has grown stiff and cold, with every bit of life drained from it. Sickening. But the kittens.. they are life's embodiment, squirming to feed and wailing with each little breeze.

With a heavy heart, Slateheart departs from his mate, carefully stepping around to her belly side where their children await him. Less than a tail-length away, he rests himself down; and one-by-one, he plucks each kit from their ghostly source. Gently, regarding the little kittens' fragility, he cleans them off; removes the blood from their paws, and laps their kitten fluff until they feel warmth once again. And then, he places them against his own belly, sweeping his tail up around them to protect them from the moonlit chill. " I will keep you safe, " Slateheart promises to his kittens, in no more than a whisper, for fear of disturbing their rest. Tiny paws press rhythmically into his stomach as tiny pink noses search for something they cannot yet have.



In time, Dimmingsun returns with their leader; and again, Slateheart cannot look him in the eye. Never before had he felt so small under his leader's gaze, not since Sootstar's cold eyes graced him as a failed, delinquent son. He is vulnerable, crumpling under Sunstar's dismayed expression. It is not until the inevitable questioning that Slateheart finally looks up and meets the dull eyes of his once lively and formidable leader.

" I loved, " he answers swiftly, defiantly, raising his voice to defend what he knows to be true. How sickening it was, that to be seen with a cat from another Clan was considered a crime against the stars. Even moreso, that he rests alongside his deceased beloved, interrogated for his crime and not offered respects.

But that's what being a Clan leader meant. The code comes first, always; and if cats like him to not make way for the code, they shall be caught underfoot. Recognizing that he will not win his leader's respect if he defies, Slateheart does the only thing he knows he can do to be able to make it back home, and sags his tense shoulders with a heavy sigh. " It wasn't.. supposed to go this far, " he mutters defeatedly, lying. Nevermind that it was, and it did.. and here they are now.

The kittens grow antsy beneath his tail. There is no time for an interrogation, not now. " Gladefrost - she needs to be brought home. We.. we can't l-leave her here. " If he could have his way, he would not leave his lover's side if the star-touched cats from beloved dragged him by the tail. But it is cruel to let her go without her family - her siblings that she loved so dearly - to see her off.. as much as it is impractical for RiverClan to find her come daybreak, without her kittens, smothered in WindClan scent. " And I.. I want my kittens. " Meek are these words, fearing the worst. Slateheart knows that he is foolish, but.. " They are all I have left of her. "

" Lichenstar, " the heartbroken father croaks out suddenly, as if coming to a conclusion. " We need Lichenstar. She needs to.. to know about this. " Tearful green eyes flick up to his leader once more, searching his gaze. With kits of his own.. surely, he must understand?

SLATEHEART ( he/him )​

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( ooc ) text

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[Ryekit]

The moonlight breeze abruptly interrupted the warmth of her world. A gentle touch from her mother and the fresh scent of milk amongst the metallic scent catches her attention as a rose-colored nose seeks to appetite her hunger. Her small yet lanky figure wiggles between her siblings as tiny paws knead at the stomach of Gladefrost. Tiny ears wiggle as she nurses while the milk still has warmth to the touch and eventually with the last delivery of her forbidden sister, her world grew cold. Only a tail grants her warmth as the world around her blossoms in various scents ranging from the cold milk of her mother, her father's scent and a heavy ichor that she will grow to despise herself for.

Tiny mewls helplessly leave her lips as she cries out for her mother against the warmth of her father's tail, her paws rebelling and pleading to nurse into the gentle touch of her mother that she'll never know besides stories to be foretold. The small sharp of a heart marking her forehead seemingly to be the last kiss from her mother and a reminder of her love for her best friend and sister of choice, Robinheart.
​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ The code — is this all that he cares for? The extent of his dismay? So many of his warriors have betrayed it now. WindClan may as well still stand beneath Sootstar's paws. They follow a leader who is not made of the stars and cannot offer even the faintest semblance of truth. And it is not himself. This clan, star-bathed and torn apart by perilous winds, is ruled by its heart. Slateheart is not the first to follow its path to destruction. Now they stand above the body of RiverClan's warrior. Cooling rapidly, and unable to care for the kits she had left. He should turn them to RiverClan, each of them. Your queen, your loss, here is what I offer in return. A disloyal warrior and hungry mouths. Warriors that will grow up strong.

That they think him caring of their code is surely a good thing, yet as desperately as he may wish it so. . . it is not the truth. A warrior's heart was all that they had. Within it sat rage, and pride, and joy. Each piece of their lives that made any worth living; they could not give it up. Not for StarClan, not for their rules. But would it not have been kinder, had they only told him? Would they not know him to suffer for his clanmates, to beg for their happiness? To take on all that he must, if it meant something kinder for each of their souls?

Sunstar's paws jolt to motion, first forward and then side to side in a quick, pacing sway. "How far, then?" he demands. "Meeting her across the border? Disobeying your leadership for her? You could have brought us to war, Slateheart! And who would have suffered then, if not for the cat that you loved?" Each of them — liars. He does not know who he speaks to now. If it was Bluefrost, Cottonsprig, the tom himself. He cannot wait to think of such things before his stride tears away from its path and into the treeline and the war-bridge he has spent too many days upon with glinting claws and intentions.

He waits for as long as he can. The rustling of paws alone would have soothed him. Any whisper of a silent patrol. When the night wears on and he hears nothing, only then does WindClan's leader break through the scent line. Each step is loud and intentional. The cats that stumble across him must think this a war path — promptly, the rosetted tom sits. "I must speak to Lichenstar. Swiftly, and alone." Only once the river-blue cat comes into view does some part of him loosen. That she is not alone is the briefest of concerns (a battle party, intent on making him answer for what he does now know? how ridiculous to find relief in seeing one he does not trust) but he swallows it down with a bitten inhale.

His tail flicks her to the side, a few brisk paces, and his voice comes gentle and hushed. "At Fourtrees —" He inhales sharply, and begins further back. "A WindClan warrior summoned me to Fourtrees. There were two warriors there. One of mine. And one of yours." Already the tom assumes she will understand. "Gladefrost came there to birth her kittens. Her litter was sired by Slateheart. She did not make it."

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 ️️️ ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈? ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞09.15⌝

• ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 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,
  
  
  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 — and very little energy left to do so, after a long list of betrayals on his council.

​

 

[lichenstar]

✦˚.✦˚✦˚✦˚ ✧ ˚✦˚✦˚✦.˚✧

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• To be summoned in the dead of night proves foreboding.... As she untangles herself from the loving touch of her mate, Lichenstar can feel the pit of her stomach drop with every syllable passed her way. Sunstar is at the border... At first she wonders if he has come for another fish, one that might rouse an appetite in his own love, one that struggles through sickness.. but that proves fleeting. The hour does not make sense for such a request... Her nose presses against the thin fur of her deputy's ear, "Come with me..." For support... out of fear... she's unsure which.
  
  --
  
  He stands freckled where the sun has kissed his pelt, aptly named as flames roll from his pelt in waves. There is a stony anger that sits along his brow... and as she lifts her tail for Hazecloud to remain behind, so she might respect his request for privacy, he straightens with the same ferocity she remembered him for. The Sunstride that had commanded the attention of his rivals... softened only by his love for his clan. Maybe they weren't so different in that regard.
  
  His tone is hardly more than a harsh whisper, trying to share the details of his frustration in low murmurs that could not be overheard. At first confusion stains her gaze, searching his face for understanding on what could possibly have happened at Fourtrees that begs her presence but it doesn't remain a question. He is to the point... precise in his cuts of truth, his summary laid out like a neat filet.
  
  The space between her brows grows narrower, listening with a sinking feeling as he recounts two warriors. Two... One dusted by moor winds... the other, salted by river kisses. There are few she can think of that would have an excuse to wander past her young warriors, standing their vigil tonight... To sneak off into the night to walk so far... And though she draws her list of suspects, it stabs like poison thorns to hear her name. "Gladefrost.... She did not make it."
  
  "So then.... the kittens," her reply is hoarse, dripping with a sleep that slides away with each stark realization... "They're half..." And she knows he understands the weight of this... but she understands already what decision she has made in a way methodically practiced. Splashdance was... unique... her circumstances harder to resolve but this. She could solve this now... could split it neatly, cut the poisonous fat of a traitorous father off of their bones, wrap it in the warmth of RiverClan's affection from the very beginning. No struggling... no fear... no begging to be accepted. They'd only ever know belonging. "Take us to them," she bids him, turning to glance back at the smoky-furred company she'd brought (and thank stars... for she would need the help) to beckon her to follow.
  
  --
  
  The smell of copper is overwhelming... a tang sharp that cuts through whatever lingering milky scent might've once clung to her. Eyes travel the stilled, cold form of a queen taken too soon and selfishly, she grows infuriated by her foolishness. All of this... you leave all of this behind... for him?
  
  Her glare finds Slateheart, piercing and unforgiving. He'd been a lead warrior once... had his shame found him then, as he'd bowed his head to retire from such duties? Had he thought himself noble in doing so? For perpetuating this stupid romance instead of honoring the laws that tie them? "A horrible waste.... a preventable one," she hisses, never once allowing him to escape her sights as he huddles close. His stink, his rot stretching towards those kits she might yet save from his 'love.' "We cared for... her. We... fed her. Kept her... safe." The embers of an anger put to rest burn brighter and hotter now, "And now she's... dead."
  
  She brushes past Sunstar, casting him a glance to be sure they remain on the same page, that they both find this abhorrent... that the only one left alive to blame is one that grovels at the side of a body without a soul. "I owe you.... nothing," she spits, "But... I won't ignore... WindClan's claim." Would the rosetted tom with eyes of seaglass be surprised by this answer? Would he have thought her to steal them all away? "Pick two.... The rest... belong to us. Say... your goodbyes... because you'll be... dead to them... after tonight." They will never be forced to grapple with his existence, with the cost of their lives. Not if she could have the last word. Whatever punishment that found him under the open skies after they left this sorrowful march would be for his leader to decide... she had no one left to do the same. Gladefrost had found her punishment in death.
• about
  
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶ @hazecloud
  penned by tieirlys
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[GORSEKIT]

The fragile kitten, smaller than her littermates was unaware of the horror and tragedy that surrounded them. Chocolate colored fur had been the last to enter the world, already experiencing such a harsh reality to be born into. After today, little Gorsekit would be unaware of her other siblings, and unaware of the life that she was being torn away from. What had been the warmth and sweet scent of her mother is soon replaced with cold, as the warmth from her mother finally dies away. It isn't long before her small belly is filled, and she nuzzles against the cold corpse of her mother, unaware of the tragedy before her.

Tiny mewls echo the screaming of her siblings as one by one they're plucked away from Gladefrost's side, instead replaced with the warmth of Slateheart's own body heat. Gorsekit wastes no time in seeking out the warmth of his fur, laying softly underneath the pile of her siblings, absorbing their warmth. Meanwhile, Slateheart will be faced with an impossible decision. One that will change her family's life forever. Forced to choose only two of his kits, how could Slateheart make such a decision as a new father? How could he be forced to choose between his children already?
​

YOU KNOW IM A DREAMER ⋆ BUT MY HEARTS OF GOLD

• ooc. — ​

• 

• GORSEKIT
  ↪ gorsekit / cisgender female (she/her)
  ↪ gladefrost x slateheart / gen 03 / sibling to valleykit, stormkit, ryekit, & moonkit
  ↪ 02 moons / ages realistically on the 1st
  ↪ kit of windclan / mentored by none
  ↪ sh chocolate
  ↪ peaceful/healing actions may be powerplayed / attack in underline & @/account
  ↪ link to tags / link to toyhouse / penned by link to profile
  ​

 

[hazecloud]

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To be woken with even the idea of a WindClan cat lingering on their borders is enough to make Hazecloud suspicious of their intent. The WindClanner being Sunstar, however, is far more curious than suspicious so soon after a positive exchange. It is why she does not hesitate at her mates beckoning, because this is an event she cannot miss, nosy as she was.

They leave her to stand a few paces away, speaking alone as leaders and her tail-tip would only twitch in agitation at the exclusion. What would be the point of bringing her along if not to earn every detail? Her gaze remained trained onto Sunstar's, practically aglow with the intensity of his expression. He is obviously unhappy and while their murmurs are scarce to understand she attempted to draw her own theories of conclusion.

Had Wolfsong not taken well to the fish they traded? Did someone trespass recently? (Not scuffling into a skirmish over it all would be far too impressive, given recent history) She couldn't think of many things that justified dragging them out of their nest so late at night, truthfully.

A cat is tossed to fetch Moonbeam (and Robinheart, curiously again), and Hazecloud followed in tense silence as they followed the rosette dappled tom closer to Fourtrees. Was it supposed to be symbolic, treading the land of peace?

"Gladefrost!" Her gasp is pure instinct at the sight. Hazecloud knelt beside her, pressing her nose into cold fur as if to convince herself what couldn't be true. How could it, really? Gladefrost was not in incapable paws, anything but with the number of kittings Moonbeam had performed. Warriors keeping prey rotated and stocked for her, Robinheart and Claythorn to eat their fill. Protection, warriors who would die to see her and these kits safe.

What changed?

Hazecloud lifted her head to look at Lichenstar with round, sad eyes only to follow her mates stare. A WindClan warrior she only just now noticed. She could only see his resemblance in a single kit, perhaps it was a blessing the rest took to Gladefrost more.

"Stupid... stupid girl. Why did you do this?" She pleaded for an answer that would not find her. The deputy simply could not fathom finding love without loyalty. With such disregard for a code written in blood. "Half!?" Hazecloud is selfish as her tail bristled. If it was up to her, each of these kittens would never see the moors or their ill-gotten father. They would find a better suited family in the safety of reed woven nests and only ever know their embrace- but it is not her decision.

The queen rose with a shaky sniffle, gathering herself to stand dutifully beside Lichenstar. "StarClan have mercy on you... your Clan have mercy." Her prayer is dry, hardly convinced Slateheart may even have a home in WindClan still. She wouldn't allow it, had she been in his position.

✿ ———— I'll be your regular mama ✿ ————— And I'll put that gun away

•  
• 
  
  
  Hazecloud
  —⊰⋅ Deputy of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ LH blue smoke with green eyes.
  

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