MY FINAL SUMMER — thanking starclan

[STORMFEATHER]

Stormpaw settles down for the night, close to the other ThunderClan cats. She cannot ever dream of sharing a nest with a RiverClan cat, much less a ShadowClan one or StarClan forbid, a SkyClan cat with a collar. If anything, she wants to hold onto her ThunderClanness for as long as possible. For a moment, it had been easy to forget borders when the RiverClan cats saved other cats from falling off the bridge. But just for that moment, and then things could go back to normal.

Stormpaw's ears flick, hearing the crickets chirp. She unfolds her paws from underneath her and glances up at the dark, sprawling expanse above her dotted with stars. At least even this far, StarClan was still with them. Wherever the stars could reach, that was how far they could see them—right?

Her doubt fizzles out and she takes a deep breath, trying to think of what she should say.

"Thank you for another safe day." Stormpaw mutters while squeezing her eyes shut. Some cats stir but she keeps going, lifting her chin higher. "Thank you for taking us this far. I know you will not abandon us. You let Berryheart find the cure. ThunderClan's place is always to protect the other Clans, and with your help, I will carry it out." She vowed, feeling her chest swell up with pride as she finished with a soft, pleased smile, unaware of the disturbance she may have caused with her muttered words.


/ set the night directly before the rockslide!

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[Cherryblossom]

Night, fresh and crisp, trickles through her lungs with each breath she tries to steady. Sleeping in the mountains is difficult, to say the least. She hadn't even considered the logistics of sleeping when she'd answered Blazestar's call, but she should've predicted they wouldn't be able to sleep in dens every night. Or any night, really. The calico doesn't have many qualms with sleeping amongst the other clans—it's not like they were going to kill her in her sleep—but with so many cats, there were bound to be more interruptions than just the discomfort of sleeping right beneath StarClan's naked eye.

Maybe she also should've predicted that someone would try to talk to them too.

Tonight, Cherrypaw sleeps near the ThunderClanners, likely a decision of Orangeblossom's or Bobbie's rather than hers. One of the ThunderClanners is sitting up. Her pale chin slopes upwards, mistmatched ears tilting back, like a lone wolf searching for the moon with its howl. Silhouetted in the moonlight, she'd look pretty if she wasn't babbling like a baby bird. She's probably speaking as quietly as she can, but "quiet" for Cherrypaw would've been not speaking at all. "With my help, you can 'carry out' shutting up," Cherrypaw snaps in a whisper.

The thing about ThunderClan being the protector of the other clans was annoying too; maybe she'll throw that in her face too when she inevitably turns around to glare at her. Good thing Cherrypaw's already glowering in her direction.​

 

[STORMYWING]

☁︎

Stormywing lies nearby, nearly asleep when her cousin's voice causes an ear to flick towards her. She peels open an eye, glowing flaxen in the starlight. She spots Stormpaw's figure, muzzle pointed to the sky as she murmurs a prayer. Silently, her own gaze shifts upward to the stars above as she listens to her kin. The edges of her mouth quirk up as she hears her comment on ThunderClan's heroics. Pride fills her own chest, too. Without their medicine cat, how many more cats would have fallen? Would they even know to come here to the mountains to get the lungwort? Not likely, She thinks smugly.

And then a SkyClan apprentice, looking fresh out of the nursery, has the nerve to tell her cousin to shut up. Annoyance creeps onto her features; and Stormywing thought she could be disrespectful. She lifts her head and gets to her paws, striding casually over to her kin to sit beside her. "Cats can't pray to StarClan anymore?" She hisses back to the child, tail sweeping defensively around Stormpaw. "I'll pray with ya, kid," The slate-gray she-cat then mutters, blinking towards the calico with a half-smile.

I WANNA TASTE LOVE AND PAIN ☁︎​

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[SLATESNARL]

Curled up on the outskirts of the group was Slate, who was so big that he might as well take up two nests... or possibly three if he wanted to be extra comfortable. Rolling over or adjusting in his sleep could easily mean squishing whoever was next to him, so he had opted simply to sleep away from the center. Besides, he enjoyed having his space.

One could split the silence in the night air with even the slightest whisper, which prompted the Maine Coon to prick his shredded ear and open an eye to focus on whoever was talking. A ThunderClanner, he can recognize, though he forgets her name. His apprentice had offered an annoyed quip in response, to which Slate did not scold her. He too would appreciate some peace and quiet while trying to rest.

It both irritated and amused the lead warrior, how the ThunderClanner spoke as if her clan was the best in the forest or something. "Hmph," SkyClan may be full of a bunch of former kittypets and daylight warriors who still were coddled by their twolegs at night, but they did not need any saving. In fact, some of the daylight warriors had even put their heads together and devised a plan to break out an entire shelter's worth of cats. If anything, ThunderClan would be begging SkyClan for help should a similar situation ever happen to them.

Flitting a drowsy eye over toward the others, Slate muttered, "A bit pretentious, aren't they?" All of the clans were embarking on this mission, not just ThunderClan. Had they forgotten that?

✰ INFO

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• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

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[STORMFEATHER]

Just as she finishes, an annoying whisper ruffles her ear fur like a flea and Stormpaw grimaces as she glances over. She had not realized how close the SkyClan cats were sleeping toward them. She tucked her paws in tighter underneath her white, fluffy chest. She did not want to catch their kitty-pet sickness. Her mouth twitched as she thought of Owlear rasping and coughing in Berryheart's den.

"Well!" She shot back, feeling petty enough to retort. "Someone has to clean up the mess SkyClan makes!" She feels bold enough with Stormywing by her side to even cast a glare at the scary-looking dark SkyClan tom who makes a remark. She does not feel guilty—ThunderClan is destined to save the Clans and Stormpaw grasps onto that self-fulfilling prophecy with as much strength as she could muster.

"Thanks, Stormywing." Stormpaw smiled back, folding her ears over her head. "But I'm done... now. We can do it together tomorrow."

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[Cherryblossom]

The tri-colored tabby has the nerve to tuck her paws tighter beneath herself, like it was Cherrypaw who was a nasty, noisy pest she needed to sequester herself away from. The SkyClanner's glare intensifies, twin straw moons stretched wide in incredulity. And some of her clanmates call her arrogant! She liked Little Wolf and Howlingstar well enough, but their underlings left much to be desired. "It's not SkyClan's fault," she retorts, for lack of a better comeback.

The ThunderClanner is joined by another one, this one a patched grey tabby without the tan but with a scar or two. A nearby 'hmph' makes her ear twitch, and she snaps her head around to lay acidic eyes on Slate: "Help me out here, would you?" Of course her rogue of a mentor would be happy to order everyone around all day and not lift a claw to defend SkyClan at night. Whenever he wasn't following her mother around like a big, dopey dog, that was. Staring down two ThunderClanners by herself, even without the chance of them attacking her, makes her neck hair rise.

"Not if you're doing it in the middle of sleeping cats!" she hisses back to her, a little louder this time. Their warmly exchanged smiles grate on her like bark beneath skin. "You guys can, like, shut up tomorrow, or go pray somewhere else. I don't think StarClan wants to listen to a bunch of stuck-up leafheads anyway," Cherrypaw huffs. She's sitting up, stubbornly rooting her forepaws into the foreign earth. Even at her age she's just about their heights, only with a lot more downy kitten-fluff and kitten-fat framing her form. Funnily, she might be regally annoyed with them, but they wouldn't be driving her off now—that'd be letting them win!​