private MONSTERS OF MEN \ sunstar

[FEATHERSPINE]

Featherpaw was not often granted sleep, but it was usually dreamless when it arrived... or at least, he did not care enough to remember. From other apprentices she'd heard babbling about their strange dreams- an abundance of rabbits raining from the sky, or Outlook Rock sprouting a face- but she had no such whimsy. Waking small hours spent struggling to sleep were peopled with paranoia-borne shadows, and slumber was dark and uncommunicative. She had not the destiny of a medicine cat, that much was clear.

It was some cruel joke that she found herself wandering now through a very real clearing in sleep. Malicious forces punishing him for something- his temper, his failures- had placed him here- wolves, Howlingstar had mentioned at the border. They'd twisted into shadowy, hulking beasts- slathering and snapping, their baying wails careening through the sky with ear-ripping reverbrance. And Rivepaw- Rivepaw ran right at it.

Featherpaw heard herself scream. He knew it was idiotic to run after her, but he did in some blind blur of panic. Of course, he wasn't fast enough. Rivepaw was tossed like she was something worthless, and anger and pain bubbled up in Featherpaw's gut as she changed course to sprint to her sister's body. Plunging chocolate paws into Rivepaw's fur, her littermate began to meld and change. Brown faded to silver-and-black- Featherpaw's throat was dry. Bluepool, not Rivepaw- and the loss is a different spear, shocking and regretful instead of something that rips her heart in two and spits upon it. And then- then, when she looked upon the body's face, it was not Bluepool's but Pinkpaw's, stained in a smile- it was Wolfsong's, his other eye gouged- it was Sunstar...

With a stifled yelp he awoke to darkness. Immediately, in uncovered moonlight, Featherpaw saw the sheen of tears in her eyes, felt the pressing headache that crying brought. Embarassed, he heaved himself to his paws and streaked away from his nest, his paws as light as his name. It would be stupid to leave camp- so she huddled herself somewhere lonesome, trying to stop herself from trembling with fear and tears, desperately wishing for the stained sight to bleach itself away.

\ @SUNSTAR !! ​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[SUNNVAR]

There are few places within this camp that are truly free from Sunstar's watchful gaze. Though he has learned to sleep through the nights better since joining this clan, the moons of conditioning could not be undone. Like his kitten, the tom sleeps fitfully. Cautiously. He falls asleep as soon as he settles and wakes as soon as he is disturbed. Be it the shifting of paws outside of his den or a sensation of general unease — he finds himself upright and wide-eyed, glancing about the dark of his den as if expecting someone to charge in. He does not think of this den as a place of safety. It was Sootstar's final imprisonment, and the breeding ground of her insanity. Though his clanmates may defend him, it is not safe. Safety is something he must make for himself.

And so Sunstar rises from his nest and departs into their camp. The majority of his warriors curl up to rest beneath the stars now. A few continue to lull themselves towards it with steady grooming licks across their pelts. A small pawful sit in watch. And Featherpaw's nest is empty. His brow furrows.

His voice is quiet and his head is low as he tracks the apprentice's scent. "What are you doing so far from your nest, heartling?" It is rare that either of her fathers would coddle any of their kits. Their love for them and protection of them did not force parenting beyond what he thinks they need. Even in a clan, each cat must be prepared to fight for one another at a young age. They must hold their own ground against nightmares both real and imagined. But there is something different in a nightmare. It is not the intense certainty of a young cat seeking to be their best. It is not his perfectionist kitten, eager to make this life their own. Growing up too fast.

She is but the little flame-red bundle that had curled to his mate's belly. When Sunstar gently noses at her shoulder, seeking to comfort, he almost expects a mewl of hunger and panic in response. An afterimage of the squealing, helpless thing Featherpaw had once been. This realization aches.

⋆°•☁︎ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃  ╱╱ 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝗕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝗕𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 〚 02.11.2024 〛 𖤓

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTAR. LEADER OF WINDCLAN.   ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, MOUNTAIN CATS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING RIVEPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ A LARGE, FRESHLY SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS BLUE EYES

• "speech"

​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

Heartling was one little remainder of kithood that Featherpaw refused to shoulder away, simply because it was something deep and private. She'd slap the face off anyone who tried to throw it back at her- she trusted her claws and her tongue to protect that little nugget of childishness still rolling around in her heart. Most of all, she knew her father could not find her pathetic. Every day he strived to be a warrior, to leave a blubbering baby in the dust, to stomp away the apprentice who had screamed like a fledgling when Nightmareface's claw had scraped a deep wound across his back- he had faith Sunstar knew that. Knew he was strong and steely, and anything but weak.

With blood like hers, how could she be weak?

Featherpaw tried to tighten his trembling lip- it was stupid. "D-don't tell anyone," he mumbled, looking at the ground, hunching his shoulders up. A knot in his throat caged away the admittance that a bad dream had reduced him to this. Even in what should have been comforting vulnerability, crouched at her father's side, she couldn't spit out the reality of it- or the unreality. It was stupid to be afraid, because it was a dream.

A dream, though, that had dredged up a fear, and a realisation. Yellow eyes, glazed with unspilled tears, fumbled to find her father's blue. "I don't want any- anything b-buh... b-buh... anything to happen to you." Featherpaw sniffed. He wasn't making any sense. "It will, though. Nine... nine times." He dodged the word itself. I don't want you to die, but the image flashed in his mind anyway, vivid despite its unreality. What about when she did see Sunstar die? What would that image look like, then?​

✦ penned by pin​