my trust is without borders - spiderpaw

[flowercloud.]

The sickness began gradually. She had gone on a patrol with Mountainheart, and she would realize now, too late that they were plagued. A few days in, possibly.

Eating was unbearable, her weight was quickly dropping. Bones protruding uncomfortably into the mossy bed underneath her. Her throat dry despite the consistent amount of water she drank and could drink.

It was never enough, her form throwing it up within time. Many herbs were spread between the cats. Dawnglare worked as fast as the tom could, no cure yet in sight. She began struggling to move. She began struggling to breathe.

But she had no reason or urge to stop fighting. She did her best, lapping up anything the medicine cat offered her way.

She would barely witness deaths. Cats would be removed for vigil as their corpses stunk the sweet herbs and seemed to be quickly replaced by yet another cat who were quickly diminishing themselves.

This battle was not easy, and she was convinced Starclan was against them all these days. But she held hope. Was it only days? Was it more? Everything blurred together, the nights and days unseen from where she stayed in captivity to decrease the spread of this plague.

Pain flooded her bones this day, her chest and stomach tightening in painful blows from hunger.

But memories flooded the girls head. A kitten wrapped in the blue blanket, a shadow over her licking her forehead, and safety ensured.

A group of cats would pick her up, abandoning the blanket, carrying her to her new home.

No, she knew what this was, and she shook her head, she didn't accept this. She didn't want taken away. She wanted her unborn and unplanned children to grow up. She wanted to fulfill the motherly instinct she had.

But the memories would keep flashing.

Images of Crowkit, their ceremony, their training, their play.

Images of Blazestar. Images of clancats coming and going, images of- everything.

Screams into the abyss came from her throat. When cats said there was a tunnel between light and dark, she never believed it true, but she ran towards the light, she ran as fast as she could. The amber Molly would push through, but yet again, she was in unfamiliar terrain.

And before her, a recognizable feline, a young one, black fur clean of scars, young but... she seemed so... alive.

"Spider...spiderpaw?" Her voice questioned, her eyebrows furrowing, and her head dipped in greeting. It was not a fumbling of who she was, rather almost an acceptance.

She must be dead.

Skyclan would be left behind her wouldn't it?

But the poor molly before hers would have hers torn from her too soon, and she would not want to trigger the headstrong molly any feelings of remorse that may already be there. She may not have had many interactions with the apprentice, but she held no qualms to her. A familiar face in an unfamiliar terrain. At least, that was the easiest thing to look forward to.

"It's.. nice seeing you again." She choked out a purr, fighting the possibility and question that she was dead.



She is not dead yet! @spiderpaw. //

 

[spiderpaw ✧]

🕷—— it's nice in starclan. her own last moments are a blur—she remembers little except for the feeling of tearing, a momentary pain, blackness. she's been told spirits come to guide the dying to the stars, but if she had earned one of her own, spiderpaw doesn't remember them. she misses some cats on the ground below; pigeonsong, cherrykit (cherrypaw, now), briarpaw, but she likes starclan. while the dark waters that once drowned her have not ebbed entirely (privately, she suspects they never will), they've retreated to only brushing the tips of her white paws. they've had many new additions in the time since, cats with shiny pelts and well-fed sides in starclan that belied the dull, sickness-wracked bodies they had left behind. she shudders to think of dying in such a way, a snotty thing curled in a nest, and is almost grateful for her own quick and bloody end.

there's a cure to it, she hears, spreading out slow from thunderclan as the illness itself had spread from her pine-clad home. it's not enough, though; cats arrive there to stay, and on rare occasions, to visit. she's always been told only the most privileged of cats could speak with starclan—leaders, medicine cats—and yet recently there's been an influx of illness-ridden bodies who stop to visit and then vanish back to their skinny bodies curled in nests that stank of sickness. she didn't think she would speak wih anyone herself; after all, wasn't that a privilege reserved for the beloved dead? the cats who left behind family, friends, lovers, entire clans behind far too soon? perhaps three cats held her fading memory, and she had seen none of them among the piled bodies of the sick below.

so it's surprising when an amber she-cat materializes before her and spiderpaw looks up from where she's been neatening thick black fur, though it doesn't seem to muss quite so easily among the stars. she's grateful that the many, many wounds of her death had left no scars to mar flawless smoky fur in starclan. pale eyes blink, startled, and spiderpaw mews, "uhh, flowercloud?" the apprentice blinks in surprise, given that she hadn't known the warrior too well (besides some choice bits of gossip .... oops).

"yeah, you too. by the way, i'm not, like, an all-seeing wise elder all of a sudden," the dark she-cat mews with a paw-muffled giggle that betrays the girlishness of her tone, the venom she'd held in life cooled to a sassiness within the bounds of the stars. it's true (at least to her)—maybe some of the other starry souls were wise and powerful, but that was something granted them more by holding such qualities in life, she suspects. a smoky head tilts with the swing of dark hair, face occupied by a half-smile. spiderpaw isn't totally sure how to handle the interaction, so she just says, "the gossip i get up here is like you wouldn't believe, trust me." a pause and she suddenly plunges forward into more serious topics with barely a hesitant breath, "i don't think you're like, totally dead, but you're getting close. i don't know, honestly - i'm not one of the super-old spirits, thank starclan. or, thank me now, i guess."

TO ETERNAL BLISS (🕷) 𝑰'𝑴 𝑺𝑶 𝑮𝑳𝑨𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾

• ooc: ——
  
• nothing here, have a nice day :-)
• 
  — spiderpaw
  — she/her ; apprentice of starclan (formerly skyclan) ; 9 ☾s forever
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by dejavu
  

​

 

[flowercloud.]

Flowercloud didn't know many in starclan, she did, but had no attachment to them. She always surprised herself to see the apprentice, but she did not regret it. Spiderpaw was one she enjoyed watching the silly games of, hearing the silly rumours of, the girl before her.

Starclan was different, it seemed bright, and many clouds and skies to bound across.

"I didn't expect you to be, darlin! You're young, but you're smart. You'll get there!" A purr escaped her maw as she settled down where she was at. Spiderpaw spoke of rumours, and an invisible eyebrow raised with inquisitive nature. "Ooo? Do tell me!" she said, her fluffy tail draping close to her golden and white frame.

"Well, if that's the case, hopefully they find the cure soon. For others, not me. I'd rather be sacrificed, than the lives of others unfilled. We've lost many, and Skyclans heart is weighing heavier and heavier each day..." He murmurs were quiet, her gentle gaze lowering.

"But! Nonetheless, I'm here for now, you said of some juicy gossip?" she rerouted the conversation, no longer wanting to feel the grief. she was unsure of how long exactly she'd be up here for. But she didn't feel like it would be short coming. "Do you hear of all clans gossip now?"