sensitive topics MOTHER'S MOURNING DRESS | body return

[SCORCHSTORM]

general cw for descriptions of grief, death, & bodies!

Blood has crusted into a coppery rime on her half-light muzzle. There is a body on her back. It is one she never thought she would carry — one she never should carry, and yet here she is, like a carpenter. "Please prepare Venomstrike. And the kits," Scorchstorm croaks to one of her patrolmates (it didn't matter which; little mattered right now, really). Grasspaw had fetched Sunstar, but the kits... they could not see their parent in this way, not without preparation. Her throat is raw, and her words exit her muzzle half-baked. Still, her patrolmate understands. The shape of them moves ahead, and Scorchstorm is left behind.

Rattleheart had died hours ago, but Scorchstorm could not be moved until now, immobilized by grief and tears. She had sobbed until her eyes and cheeks ran raw. She had screamed until her throat was bloody. She had cursed RiverClan and Beefang and Roepaw one thousand times each, and she had not cursed them to her satisfaction, and maybe she never would.

Dimmingsun hauls her once-aunt, now-corpse into camp with her, spreading the weight of her across their backs. It seems stupid. Rattleheart was a tunneler, so thin and small that Scorchstorm is certain she could carry him herself, but she does not spurn what aid she can get now. It is a step up from a few hours ago, at least. A piece of her, though, is terrified even more than it is sad or empty or angry; she is terrified to bring Rattleheart home where Scorchstreak can see him, where his kits and mate can see him. They have all lost so much. Far too much, she thinks, as Rumblerain and Luckypaw flash through her mind, and Bluepool and Cygnetstare and Lambcurl though she did not know them so well, and she sees even the watery, imagined face of Dappledsun in her hysteria. Would Scorchstreak see another sunrise, if she also saw Rattleheart's body? Would she be able to continue as WindClan's deputy? Would it be right of her daughter to deny her the chance to find out?

Scorchstorm swings her low-hung head to the lead warrior assisting her. "My mother," she begins, a hoarse whisper, and then halts. She does not know how to continue. Her jaw hangs open for a moment before she shakes her head and puts one paw in front of the other, dismissing Dimmingsun's attention.

Finally they have come through the heather tunnel, a black and red and dismal parade. Scorchstorm lays Rattleheart down as if putting her to sleep; in a sense, she supposes that is what she is doing. His fur is so bloody. Too bloody; he should be clean, at least, if he cannot be breathing. The idea wrings new tears from her ducts. Scorchstorm becomes little more than a black and orange puddle, pooling at her uncle's side, face buried in his shoulder fur. Her sobbing is no longer audible — volume and composure had taken their leave back at the border. Perhaps Dimmingsun, or Mossthorn, or Rivewhisper would be strong enough to break the news to the Clan.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌 ✧

• ooc. takes place immediately after this thread! tagging @dimmingsun @Mossthorn @rivewhisper as cats helping her / that were on the patrol, but no need to wait :- )
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 16 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[PINKSHINE]

Pinkshine really hated crying. She hated the way it made her feel: ugly and so not her. It made the fur about her cheeks all wrong, wet and streaky. she hated the way she felt when she did it too, sudden sadness that she couldn't even fight with a smile. What did it mean if she failed so miserably at the thing she tried her hardest to do? Did it make her a failure, or did it make that tragedy that worthy of tears? Both outcomes were sad. Both only made her want to cry more... And it became a cycle; crying and sadness, sadness and crying. She'd like to greet the returning patrol with the same enthusiasm she always did, but too soon, Scorchstorm and Dimmingsun are sliding Rattleheart's body off their backs. Dull and lifeless. Never before has he looked so small.

" Rattleheart! " and her smile slips off her face at once, slipping to a frown and bringing ugly tears along with it. She runs as if she was a Medicine Cat. As if all they were was dying for a rabbit and Pinkshine had any shot of getting it to them and making things better. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't do anything but fight future battles Rattleheart wouldn't be there for... She couldn't do anything but dig tunnels without Rattleheart by her side. She had always been there. Always, always. Why couldn't she just keep being there?

Pinkshine always wants to do what she can... A few times, she's slinked off, been the one to fetch clanmates quickly and quietly, and though she wanted them here, she couldn't stand to do it quietly. Not with the dip of her head and a fake smile and quick tunneler - paws. But she wants her friends — she wants them badly. It's wailed, gross and loud as she cries for them, " S-scorchstreak! Downypaw! " Would they even hear her? Were they even here?

OOC. crying for @SCORCHSTREAK & @downyfur :')

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[BLUEFROST]

Scorchstorm returns with blood on her paws, on her pelt. The body that spans between the patrol is heavy with death, and when the corpse is lowered, Bluefrost recoils as though she's been electrocuted. Rattleheart? No... The sound she makes gets caught in her throat, a fly in a web. "Rattleheart... how...?" There's scarlet ichor flowering the queen's pelt; there's copper stench permeating the air. Bluefrost's over-filled belly roils, tumultuous. "Rattleheart..."

You will never see your kits become apprentices, Bluefrost thinks, lowering her face to the torn fur. You will never see them make you proud. Oh, Rattleheart, you deserved better. Her belly tightens, remembering the warrior's teeth in her throat, remembering the mercy Rattleheart had shown her, the kindnesses.

I would not be here if not for you. I would be in DuskClan. Her green eyes burn. I would be dead. She tears her gaze from the corpse, to Scorchstorm, who wavers, her stoicism cinders on her distraught expression. Pinkshine's trembling body is nearby, as she cries for Scorchstreak, for Downyfur.

Bluefrost's eyes flick back to Rattleheart, and the lump in her throat thickens. You showed me more kindness than my mother ever did. She puts a paw to her belly, as if internalizing the softness Rattleheart had shown her, as if she's catching the other lead warrior's gentle heart before it can evaporate into the air.

I will remember you.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• 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.
  
  

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[THISTLEKIT]

❝ THE TENACITY I HOLD✧°.☀ ——————————————————————————————————
Rattleheart's escapades had become more frequent as of late. He understood that his mother enjoyed them, liked stretching her legs and traversing through the moorland like they used to before being confined to the nursery. I'll be back soon. she used to say before nuzzling them all and purring an all-sweet goodbye. Despite knowing she would return soon, Thistlekit still longed to see her again. It seemed silly to miss someone so strongly as they would be back in an hour or two, but he did regardless — eagerly waiting to show her how much his hunting crouch had improved ( truthfully, it hadn't all that much, but the seal-point enjoyed the attention, the praise and love Rattleheart showed him ).

Some cat ushered him into the nursery with too much haste, too suspicious even for the kitten. He is pouting when he smells it - smells her - always comforting scent of his mother. With it, the stench of blood - he knows this one all too well, from many moons ago. It's not something you just forget.

He slips out of the den just in time to see his cousin and Dimmingsun lower a body onto the clearing. Not just any body - his mother, his idol, his everything. Thistlekit isn't sure what to say, how to react, how to feel. Why had that goodbye been their last? Why couldn't she have seen them become apprentices, then warriors, and eventually become a grandmother, or great-grandmother? It's not fair.

"No," He croaks, finally. A sniff follows, and he's tumbling towards the black-and-white queen, hoping, praying, that this is just a nightmare. "MOM!" He calls to no answer. A voice he'd never hear again. Her fur is bloodied, disheveled, full of wounds - but she looks peaceful, like she's simply asleep. But her chest doesn't move, she doesn't budge when he paws at her. "Please," It's a beg, barely above a whisper, as he collapses onto her long-gone cold body. A frame that had been so warm and full of life not long ago.

His frosty eyes are sealed shut as he sobs into her fur, taking in her scent one last time. A scent that would eventually vanish altogether off their nest, a scent he would never smell again in his life. This was the last time he would see Rattleheart until they met again in StarClan. It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. Not to him or his siblings or his dad.

She had protected him during DuskClan's attack on WindClan, it was cruel he hadn't been there to protect her in return.

[penned by nocthymia - ☀

————————————————— ☀.°✧ I HOPE IT'S HARD TO BREAK DOWN ❞ ​

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  "Speech" Thoughts
  
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• THISTLEKIT ✩ HE/HIM, kit of windclan, four moons
  ⭃ long haired seal-point kitten with an unusually long tail and pale blue eyes. short history blurb, short opinion on clan/clan specific traits. 1-2 sentences bout personality stuff and any other important details.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by nocthymia ↛ @hypmic on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

 

[slateheart]

Slateheart has known loss, but not grief. Not like.. this.

He hasn't felt the same since Lilypaw was put to rest, adorned with a glittering moonstone that reflected the stars that now hold her. The warrior was quiet, avoidant, and snippish - as if reverting back to an old self that he had tried so, so hard to put behind him. It felt as if a part of him had been lost - no, torn out and stolen - a part that he could never get back.

This mourning felt like.. he couldn't possibly feel worse.

Slateheart is curled up in an old burrow while the world continues around him. A pang of hunger jabs his stomach, but he merely turns the other way. It is not until the frantic calls of his Clanmates sound from camp that he finally lifts his head, groggy and unwilling. At first, he isn't sure what he's hearing - but as Pinkshine's recognizable voice, usually cheery and innocent, sounds out in a wail, the tom is swiftly on his feet, bracing himself for an awful sight.

Nothing could prepare him for what he sees. Dimmingsun and his patrol place down a body, small and frail - like she is in a deep, feather-light dream. Wordlessly and thoughtlessly, he lets his paws carry him slowly over while the commotion drowns out to dull background noise around him. Peering down at the body, he almost doesn't recognize her - but soon, he sees one of their most formidable and heart-strong warriors; Lilypaw's other promised guardian; his friend. " Rattleheart, " Slateheart croaks out in a heartbroken whisper. " How can it be? "

'I know you know that the coming battle will be dangerous. I just want to make sure that no matter what happens, Blizzardkit is taken care of.'

"I know the.. possibility, of some cats not making it home. You have my word that Blizzardkit will be safe and looked after, no matter what. Will you promise the same?"

He thinks of a promise made moons ago, before Sootstar had fallen. Their refuge in Horseplace, during which Slateheart had found Lilypaw - then Blizzardkit - alone in the snow. How quickly both warriors took to the little one, caring for her as if she was theirs to co-parent. They had made an understanding then that, if either warrior were to fall in the coming battle, the child would be looked after and protected by whomever remains.

In this moment he feels, with a grief that weighs to heavily on his heart, that he had failed both of them. But, at least.. she will not be so alone, now. " Look after Lilypaw, " he whispers, hanging his head and closing his tear-rimmed eyes. Somewhere sincerely, he knows that she will.

SLATEHEART ( he/him )​

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( ooc ) text

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[breezekit]

:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·: the air in the nursery becomes stiff as her siblings are wrangled inside. breezekit had remained to warm the nest while they played, waited for the safety of rattleheart's flank to return before she even debated joining them. he never did. hours passed, her mother still wayward, was it usually this long?

thistlekit narrowly dodges whoever had corralled them, a scolding waits on her own tongue and she steps out to retrieve her brother. the warriors said to wait, some danger was outside and that fool was running right to it. her tail twitches in irritation, lips curling as she mutters her warning. "thistle..."

she cannot finish it, breath pulled from her lungs when rattleheart's body came into view. blue eyes widened, darted around to see the solemn look upon her clanmate's faces, she flinches at her brother's cries, nose scrunching at her mother's scent muddled by the tang of blood. rattleheart's flank failed to move, and so did hers for a long moment. but this can't be right, it can't be because he was meant to be there for them.

nervously, her tongue darts out to rake over her muzzle. her gaze lands on slateheart first, tufted hers twitching at his somber whisper. breezekit wanted to scream, tell the lead warrior that rattleheart couldn't look after lilypaw because she was already busy looking after her. the kit swallows the indignation, turning instead to whoever was closest. she needed confirmation, because it looked like rattleheart was just taking a nap but everyone had this look on their face. they screamed and cried and- "did he die?"

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── WHEREVER YOURE GOING ⋅✦⋅ IM GOING THAT WAY ──┐‎

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• 

• BREEZEKIT ✦ she/her, kit of windclan, four moons.
  ✧ a small, yet leggy longhaired blue point chimera with icy eyes and a long tail.
  ✧ rattleheart x venomstrike / / littermate to thistlekit, vinekit, splinterkit, and crunchykit.
  ✧ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ battle info
  ✧ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[SPLINTERKIT.]

BUT MAYBE THAT'S A LIE​

---

it's supposed to be a normal day. it's supposed to be a simple day. but when it life ever like that in windclan? when do they ever get the breaks they long for? they don't. they never will. as he waits for his mother to return, he finds himself getting more and more restless. he doesn't like this. why is it taking so long? his brows furrow when his siblings are ushered back into the nursery and he watches thistlekit go, then breezekit. what... what is happening? and why is there such a heavy pit in the bottom of his stomach? he is hesitant to follow but he does. he wishes he didn't. he wishes he could go back to this morning and make his mom promise not to leave. but he couldn't.

"...mom?"

his voice is hardly ever above a whisper. he approaches his mother's body. he isn't moving. why isn't he moving? what happened?

"mom, wake up. y-youre making... cats sa...sad."

they still don't move. why? why won't they just get up? this doesn't make sense. it's not their time yet. it can't be! it can't! his stomach twists in agonizing and he doesn't feel good. this doesn't feel good. his mind flashes with the possibilities of what could have happened? were they in pain? was it quick? did they suffer? what happened?! and why wasn't anyone saying anything!? his gaze moves back to the warriors with furrowed brows before he moves to lick his mother on their face. he shuffles himself to cuddle under their limp front limb, pushing closer to underneath their chin.

"it's alright, mama. i'll be here when you decide to wake up."

she won't wake up. but he can't bring himself to think so right now. he just can't fathom this. it doesn't make sense.

​

 

[dimmingsun]

Dimmingsun got what he wanted; miraculously, Scorchstorm had allowed him to help, despite how she could easily carry Rattleheart by herself. Would, too — her pain is raw and evident enough to hurt anyone in the vicinity as the helplessness seeping in through the open wounds — if Dimmingsun had allowed her to bear this alone. His fellow lead warrior weighs barely anything, even as death truly kicks in and adds to his mass. Limp, too-light, quiet- neither of those things should apply to Rattleheart, but here they are.

It appears the stars don't allow them much leeway nowadays. They strike WindClan again and again, and Dimmingsun can't help but wonder: are they just trying to see how many it takes for them to stay down?

"Rattleheart died a hero," Dimmingsun announces. It is a fact that should be uttered with the verity it deserves. He sees Bluefrost's grieving gaze; Rattleheart's saddened eyes; Scorchstreak's pained state... if only there was a way to take it all from them, to give them peace instead of tragedy. "Scorchstreak-" My mother, Scorchstorm had pleaded, "-should be here to hear it. And Sunstar."

He does not allow his voice to grow too sharp, but the demand comes nevertheless. "Can someone please get the kits away for now?" The time for mourning will come, when Rattleheart's body is prepared for a vigil and the Clan surrounds her with bleeding hearts. Then, and only then, can Dimmingsun remain calm with such youngsters around; their impressionable and vulnerable eyes should not see the red between the black, nor hear the details of Rattleheart's passing.

Looking for @SCORCHSTREAK & @SUNSTAR

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[SUNSTAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ It would have been better for the clan as a whole if Sunstar's grief took the time that it typically did. Disbelief and horror used to war across him with every loss that he faced. They could not be dead in such a manner– they could not be lost. But after this battering of grief, his defenses have yet to fully rebuild. The scent of death crashes against the walls and swells over it as they crumble. He does not wonder if it was a fluke. He does not plead for it to belong to anyone else. Even before his eyes fall upon Rattleheart's still body, Sunstar has made peace with at least the knowledge that she was gone. So shortly returned to the world outside of their camp, and already– already gone, left still before his kits. Dimmingsun is frustrated in his concern. The burnished tom's voice is softer.

"Thistlekit," he rasps, "Breezekit, Splinterkit– find your father, and remain in the nursery until he returns to you." How many moons until they were apprenticed? Would Venomstrike care for them? Would Bluefrost? It is a crippling thought. Heart-deep and splintering apart like the crunching of mouse bones beneath his fangs. She was dead and gone. That he knew before he even laid eyes upon her body. But now that he stands looming over the corpse of a warrior he had admired, he sees the hole that had been left. Moments the kits would not experience and all that would never be said to those she cared for. The insight their council would sorely miss, and all the good that would never be done.

He staggers forward on unsteady paws. His nose first touches Rattleheart's forehead, as cool as the moorland breeze now. Then Scorchstorm's, where it is not hidden by black and white fur. In this quiet space of remembrance he inhales his lead warrior's scent one final time — and with it, the faintest tinge of river water beneath the blood. Dread solidifies within his stomach "Tell me what happened," he requests firmly.

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"

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[SOOTSPOT]

Being campbound could be advantageous, oftentimes, news was delivered directly to his tufted ears, rather than having to search it out later. He had been moving back from the fresh-kill pile, a small rabbit between his teeth, when a patrol emerged through the brush, carrying a heavy load upon their spines. Disbelief clouded his yellow-green eyes as he incessantly blinked, expecting the pounds of black and white flesh to contort, yet it remained still. Dead. Clanmates began to gather around and the Tunneler stayed in place, only craning his head to try and gaze past the others, wanting to know for certain that Rattleheart is truly gone. When minutes went by without movement, it was all but confirmed.

He covered his mouth with his paw to prevent a laugh.

To the outside, it looked like an expression of shock, to Sootspot, he could only feel relief. Relief that such a wicked cat was dead, that he did not have to consider a long-term plot or ploy to see the ex-rogue removed himself. His gaze settled upon the sky, where Rattleheart no-doubtedly roamed now... where she would no longer roam when it was his time to ascend and demand answers. "My own should not see this," he mewed, a tremor to his voice. A part of him wanted them to, to know death and to know that any other than your own shouldn't be feared. But then he thought better of it, knowing there was no good way to invoke his lesson in the presence of others. 'If this is your apology, StarClan, then it isn't enough.' Defiantly, he looked away from the Stars, and to what he considered the very opposite. "I shall make sure Rattleheart's kits follow your orders," he promised the rosette leader, respectfully nodding his head.

He turned away from the crowd and began to walk back towards the Nursery, smiling. Perhaps with two council deaths adding to his legacy of ash and injury, Sunstar would think again about letting such weak-willed cats have power.


​

 

[THISTLEKIT]

❝ THE TENACITY I HOLD✧°.☀ ——————————————————————————————————
He doesn't budge as more and more voices appear, all shocked and saddened at the sudden loss of Rattleheart. Thistlekit doesn't move, even when it's Sunstar telling him and his littermates to go be with Venomstrike, like they shouldn't be there at all. This was their mother, their family. They should be able to mourn her as much as everyone else!

Lifting his head, he meets Sunstar's seaglass gaze. His brows are furrowed, his expression sharp ( betraying the redness of his eyes, no more tears left to spill ). "No," He mutters, refusing to abide by Sunstar's orders. He shuffles closer to the former Lead Warrior as if saying you will need to pry me off her body if you want me gone. Thistlekit is ready to make a scene if he needs to; to prove a point, if anything.

"I wanna to know what happened to — to mama," The kitten glances over at the unmoving body of the queen, sniffling. He can't speak for his littermates, if they didn't wanna know, that's their problem. "Deserve t'know."

[penned by nocthymia - ☀

————————————————— ☀.°✧ I HOPE IT'S HARD TO BREAK DOWN ❞ ​

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  "Speech" Thoughts
  
• 
  

  

• THISTLEKIT ✩ HE/HIM, kit of windclan, two moons
  ⭃ long haired seal-point kitten with an unusually long tail and pale blue eyes. short history blurb, short opinion on clan/clan specific traits. 1-2 sentences bout personality stuff and any other important details.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by nocthymia ↛ @hypmic on discord, feel free to dm for plots.