NEEDLE IN THE HAY | missing

[FLINTWISH]

Granitepelt is gone. Ghostpaw is gone. So Flintpaw is gone, too.

He misses any morning patrols or duties Scalejaw might have dragged him into otherwise. If anyone searches for him in his nest, they will find nothing more than empty bedding and a scent still clinging to the moss there. He is not in the medicine den; he is not picking ticks off of elders. Flintpaw has simply disappeared into the fine mist of morning, gray pelt blending in with the fog that clung to the mire he was damned to.

After their discussion, fear had fueled his steps, burning pure acetylene. His pawsteps, like his sister's had been, are solid until they aren't — lost to the chameleonic shifts in the mud, which conformed to any wind that tickled it. His scent, though fresh, treks throughout the territory in aimless, confusing loops as if to rid himself of some predator. Maybe that is how he'd seen it, some chase he cannot win. Either way, he's missing now.

Sunlight struggles down to the bog. Chirping frogs dig themselves into the mud for the winter. Fog clings to the horizon, obscuring obstacles mere tail-lengths ahead. Where is Flintpaw?

/ flint isnt actually gone gone LOL he is somewhere on shadowclan's territory! he has a planned thread where he will be found, but will be absent from camp w/ no word for a good few hours at least!

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧ 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

• 

• 
  
  — flintkit . flintpaw
  — he / they / she ; apprentice of shadowclan
  — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — headshot by me, signature by dreamydoggo
  — penned by meghan

​

 

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Gone.

That is the only though in her mind as Scalejaw stands where her son had stood only perhaps hours earlier for Ghostpaw's disappearance. Flintpaw's nest is empty, cold. Her eyebrows twitched, and a sharp inhale followed. She repeated the word as her head turned, tail twitching. The offending leafbare was creeping on her pelt- or was that the utter feeling of despair tracing it's steps up towards her heart? Where she had failed, where Flintpaw felt the need to leave.

Slow down. Fear is the mind killer- find Flintpaw. She does not go straight to Starlingheart, for after the disappearance of Ghostpaw, and the fact she knows she did not send Flintpaw to pick ticks or collect moss... She breaks free out of camp silently. Perhaps someone watched her movement like she had Bonerattle's. She attempted to track her apprentice, but his scent was tangled, and his pawsteps gone. The trek back into camp had her paws splattered with mud, and her ears flattened against her head.

For when she entered through the gorse again, her words were quiet and sharp. "Flintpaw is missing." Starlingheart was sure to be somewhere nearby, so when she picked her head up, orange eyes searched for her first. Scalejaw's head lowered, and a soft apology did slip from her lips then. When she picked her head up again, her guard was replaced, and she forced her facial features into neutrality.

Next, her vision searched for Smogmaw, or Chilledstar- one of the two. Either would do. Even Frostbite. "I'm going to set up a patrol to go find her." She said, voice betraying her facial features, for it cracked. She had not spent long with the apprentice, but the time she had spent? She knew better then to assume Granitepelt's crimes were Flintpaw's own. She knew Flintpaw well enough to know he was a creature of hidden anxieties and cautious looks, but Flintpaw was not stupid.

"Those of you who.. want to join me, come." She managed awkwardly. Perhaps that was asking plenty after the discussion thread, perhaps that was asking too little. Scalejaw did not know anything anymore, but she knew that she needed to find Flintpaw before she was lost to Windclan, or worse.

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​

 

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

Scalejaw's words upon reentering camp catch the red tabby by surprise, her grim expression only causing Roosterstrut to mirror it. His brows furrow with worry, murmuring, "Flintpaw, too?" Not again... Roosterstrut knew that this entire situation must have been heartbreaking for Granitepelt's children; scarring, even. They had no part in this and yet they were drug into it against their will; their whole world had been turned upside down. The disappearance of Ghostpaw, with any attempts to find her fruitless, must have been troubling to deal with. Roosterstrut completely understood Granitepelt's affected kin needing their time to isolate and grieve, but another disappearance so soon after Ghostpaw's was very concerning.

There was no time to waste. They weren't able to find Ghostpaw, regrettably ( StarClan protect her ) but there was still a window of opportunity to track Flintpaw if they could get ahold of her scent. "I'll come." The warrior stated, getting to his paws and approaching Scalejaw with an eagerness to head out as soon as possible.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙧

• 

• 

  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— he/him; warrior of shadowclan
  —— heteroflexible; single
  —— red tabby tom with long hair and pale green eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

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[Starlingheart]

Everything was falling apart. First Ghostpaw was missing and now Flintpaw. A part of her wonders, had they decided to go with their father after all? She feels like her whole world is unravelling around her - like if she is not careful, everything will come apart at the seams. She listens to the news with ears that wish they were sealed. Perhaps if she did not hear it then it would not be true. As much as she wished it though this is not how the world works. Cats offer to go and search for her. Scalejaw offers to throw a patrol together, Roosterstrut offers to go with her. "I'll-I'll come too" she says, voice cracking slightly. She could not simply sit idly by while others searched for her children. She had to be out there too, in the swamp with her nose raised to the air. Who knew the scent of a cat better than their own mother after all?

"We can-we can start here and then work our way around the territory. She has to-has to be around here somewhere." but hadn't they also said that about Ghostpaw, who was nowhere to be found? Most of all, she wants to crawl back into her den and sleep for as many moons as it takes for her heart to give out, but she has a clan to take care. She has her kits and her apprentice and so many others who are counting on her. She has to be strong. For them. Everything for them.

​

 

[smogstar]

His brain refuses to perform the mental acrobatics required to understand it.

If poor parenting were an art form, then Granitepelt could be considered an aficionado—butchering kin of kin as though they were frogs for the plucking, and then spinning a web of lies to mask his madness. Yet, against all reason and rationality, his offspring follow in his tracks, one-by-one favouring a murderer over their mother. Why? It eludes the deputy entirely.

No blame shall be put on Starlingheart's shoulders during all this, not even through a critical glance or a scolding sigh. It's childish shenanigans, pure and simple.

"I will look, as well." His tone is dispassionate, dry, soured by the bitter taste of tolerating these circumstances. Shouldn't have happened in the first place, yet here they all stood at camp's entrance. Settled upon Scalejaw's figure are stern eyes, narrowed, scrutinising. "You're the one who'd noticed?" he posits as his chin tilts aloft. "When's the last time you saw him? Anyone?"

He himself cannot pinpoint exactly when Flintpaw last crossed his visual field, and he finds himself a smidgeon dismayed by his lack of observation. The last mental image he has of the apprentice is punctuated by mismatched eyes aglow in terror, claws gripping the sycamore's bark in a desperately precarious struggle. ​