NIGHTMARE IN MY HEAD [ rta ]

[scalejaw]

★ Hot.

Hot, and dreary. Scalejaw's eyes were unfocused on the other half of camp, something that was a hint out of the normal for her. Chilledstar's death, as it were, was something that settled her into this 'funk' of a headspace. Smogmaw had barely hesitated when he stepped up to the mantle, barely seemed to blink. Maybe she missed it, but Scalejaw didn't particularly care. There was a hole in her stomach that had been punched open by their death, and it had dragged her straight into a rut.

Ear twitched as a bug drifted closer, and a loud 'ugh' left her as her paw reached up, swatting away the bug with viscous intent. Orange, glowered eyes watched the sorry thing drift away, and she returned to staring at a pin point across camp. Of course, she hadn't been here all dead. Even in her midlife, she was doing just fine hunting in the warmed muck of the swamp, the dreadful bugs still hovering where the frogs had been chased away. A hot breath left her, tail swaying to flick off another bug.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── MESSES WITH YOUR SANITY ⋅❁⋅ TWISTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AROUND ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• SCALEJAW ★ she/her, warrior of shadowclan, sixty three moons.
  ★ A SH black/LH blue smoke chimera with glowering orange eyes, tufts of fur that make her look dragon-akin, and scars that she wears with pride. motherly and stern attitude, with a warm streak for clanmates and a cruel streak for enemies.
  ★ mentoring no one
  ★ padding after no one / / mother to bonerattle, nightwhisper, and shadefall
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[ONYXPAW]

I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH — Torn open. That was how most of Shadowclan seemed these days, a natural result of how Chilledstar's passing was affecting them all. Or at least the majority of them, Onyxpaw's chest clenching as the thought struck her. She was one of the lucky ones, her routine mostly uninterrupted now that their leader had been laid to rest.

Were they glaring down on her from Starclan, displeased with how easily she had bounced back?

The thought caused her pelt to prick uncomfortably as she walked into camp, a plump frog clenched in her jaws. As mediocre as her hunting skills were, the frog invasion from not all that long ago had made it rather easy for her to get plenty of practice with catching them. Gone was her satisfaction when she noticed the faraway look in Scalejaw's eyes as she passed by the warrior, however. She looked a million miles away, and even the timid Onyxpaw found herself compelled to approach - after depositing her catch on the prey pile, of course. "Hi, Scalejaw. Are you... the bugs are really annoying today, huh?" The words are you okay shriveled away before they hit the air, the answer seeming rather obvious.

CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH ✦ IT IS KILLING YOU

• 

• 
  ✧ shorthaired tortoiseshell point and chocolate point chimera with blue eyes
  ✧ 10 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ✧ bisexual; crushing on yellowpaw
  ✧ daughter of monarchroot and sleetjaw
  ✧ shadowclan born; silently loyal to her home
  ✧ difficult to befriend; shy to most except yellowpaw
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[smogstar]

Time dwindles, anticipation mounts. Tension swells past a fever pitch, setting the air to trembling. Peace has never found a home in his thoughts, nor a comfortable place among his many memories—and as he envisions his departure from the reeds and the rushes, how he must accept nine lives upon StarClan's gracious bestowal, Smogmaw's veins pulse with an intensity unmatched ever before. The current carries him away and into a state—an emotion—unique to today. His ambition, the culmination to all his efforts, is at long last within paw's reach.

Predictably, his sentiments were not as universally felt. Chilledstar's departure from this world to the next wrought bitterness and sickenss of the heart upon heaps of clanmates. As death typically does. Grief is a stubborn weed. It will poke and it will pester, and though time tempers pain, anguish does not simply dissipate. There will remain traces long after wounds close, and before the healing begins, they must bleed. It is just that some are better equipped to wince and lick their wounds than others. Those with the sturdiest scabs are the strongest among them, while the frailest wear their woes plainly on the pelts.

Scalejaw is anything but frail. She has not shed a single tear for all the time he has known her. Sorrow does not soften her pelt nor dampen her dry gaze; not now, even, given the molly's shared bond with the late leader. Hardened, persistent, as resolute as a boulder.

But lethargic in her current state. Or, at the very least, apathetic. His sightline traces a path across the camp's muddy terrain and settles upon the smoky warrior's silhouette. Her orange eyes are fixated on an unknown object—one which she can clearly see in her mind's eye, yet one which is so very absent from the physical plane. They display no life, nor even an echo thereof. It perturbs Smogmaw at an instinctual level.

"All good?" Following on Onyxpaw's ankles, the ash-furred tom arcs around the apprentice and hails Scalejaw. He recalls plainly, clearly, the sternness at which the molly advised him to address his own grief head-on. Without evasion, without avoidance. "Your eyes'll fall out if you stare any harder, y'know." ​

 

[scalejaw]

★ Onyxpaw's approached had her ear turning towards the apprentice, making the other aware that, well, Scalejaw herself was aware of her. Onyxpaw's words settled in for a brief moment, and Scalejaw turned her head finally, glowering oranges settling upon Onyxpaw. She pushes a smile onto her muzzle, but it falls short, the warmth in her eyes all but gone. "The bugs are always bad this time of year. Buzzing in your ear." She says.

It is the tabby pelt the approaches next that causes her smile to disappear. He knew, better then any other, where their grief started and ended, how it was never outright, how it favored hiding behind shadows. Standing in the swamp and speaking to Smogmaw quietly moons ago, before the badger attacked them, was suddenly fresh in her mind, and she was the hypocrite with no seconds of hesitation.

All good? Scalejaw inhaled while her eyes hovered, contact with Smogmaw's own making it clear he should know the answer to that question. She didn't move from where she lay, but her pelt itched with the need to. Practicing self-will, she refused to move, instead letting words slip from her muzzle. "I think it'd be a skill of mine. Eyes rolling out of my head." She answered, skipping around the first question with skill. That was something plain and obvious, the answered to all good.

All good rested in the cold grave with Chilledstar's body. Perhaps Scalejaw was being a hypocrite even to her own morals- chasing a soul long gone. A long breath inhaled, then settled in sharp exhale, finally pushing to her paws to at least sit up. She did not favor having eyes peer down at her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── MESSES WITH YOUR SANITY ⋅❁⋅ TWISTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AROUND ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• SCALEJAW 🌧 she/her, warrior of shadowclan, sixty three moons.
  ★ A SH black/LH blue smoke chimera with glowering orange eyes, tufts of fur that make her look dragon-akin, and scars that she wears with pride. motherly and stern attitude, with a warm streak for clanmates and a cruel streak for enemies.
  ★ mentoring no one
  ★ padding after no one / / mother to bonerattle, nightwhisper, and shadefall
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[SHADEFALL]

Safe harbor offered by the outskirts of camp is for once, uncharacteristically ignored. A wretched looking creature, Shadefall moves are spider-like. Belly resting close to the ground, eyes peering suspiciously upwards. There is more of an ease to the patchy feline's movements, no cold air to rattle and restrict his chest. Retreating clouds and clear skies mean a better view of the moon with the sun making frequent appearances.

Disturbia from the situation that has ratted the clan lingers, so he allows the words to wash over him, the greetings and talking. High hum of flies sound like the tune of the ground they're standing on, so he's quite comfortable in dismissing the admittedly loud little insects. "There are worse things in the world. Wouldn't you agree?" He touches his nose to Scalejaw's side in greeting, settling nearby posture giving the impression he's stewing - body pressed and crumpled together with his drawn in everything "What're you all doing?" Something suspicious lingering in his tone, he squints minutely at his clanmates.

I think it'd be a skill of mine. Eyes rolling out of my head. "It's bad luck to say such things, if you're not prepared for it don't will it so." He rasps. Inclination towards conspiracy accompanies the humorless paranoia. Shadefall had always got something on his tongue to spiral.
​

 

[FLINTWISH]

Flintwish is the next to join this clowder. Scalejaw, being his former mentor, has carved a place for herself in his skull. Seeing her out and about again (though muted, undeniably) lights a spark in an old reserve of joy that Flintwish had heretofore abandoned. The last time he had really seen her, she had been cleaved in two by a badger. If he were feeling any less charitable, which was often the case, he would have blamed Smogmaw for siccing the thing on their training patrol. Thankfully, he was in higher spirits today.

Still, he does not greet Smogmaw when he pads up to greet his mentor. She sits up as he arrives, and he realizes he is still smaller than she is. Frankly, she looks like shit. Many ShadowClanners did, in the wake of Chilledstar's death. Flintwish's good mood crystallizes into heavy, painful shame. He does not mourn Chilledstar, not really — and he doesn't feel like he owes it to them, but StarClan, it is difficult to go through camp with all of these heavy faces and not feel bad for not feeling right.

Shadefall's suspicion of them offends him further. "Is chit-chat, like, not allowed, or something?" she shoots back, a half-smile, half-grimace painting her muzzle. But she decides not to dedicate much attention to him. After all, she had originally come to greet Scalejaw. She had originally come with some semblance of happiness between her claws, too, but it has been replaced with a strange oozing feeling, the one that haunts her entire life, the one that tells her she doesn't belong.

She returns her gaze to her former mentor, muzzle settling into a weary frown. "I'm um... I'm happy to see you around again," she tells her, and it's true. Scalejaw's stoked-ember gaze has fizzled out, but it's still true. "Maybe we could go hunting, or something."

used to be one of the rotten ones ( and i liked you for that ) //

• ooc.
  
• FLINTWISH —— warrior of shadowclan, mentored by forestshade & scalejaw . granitepelt x starlingheart . littermate to nettlepaw, ghostmask ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a small, slate-blue tom with mismatched blue and green eyes. hard to approach and harder to enjoy, but beneath his spines he seems to have a good heart, and cares for his clanmates
  ✦ unlabeled gender / he, she, they pronouns / 14 moons & ages every 12th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / may flee / may show mercy. tends to fight dirty on account of granitepelt's teachings. will fight tooth and nail to win, as this is one of the few ways flintwish can prove his worth to himself
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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