private PAINT MY SPIRIT GOLD // private

[Orangestar]

Despite leaving before dawn, Orangestar's journey over well-trodden SkyClan hunting paths is hesitant. She heads, first, for water: RiverClan's border is the safest, no rogues or foxes to be found along the lowered shores. It would take her a little longer, but she has all night to commune with StarClan when she reaches Highstones. She arrives at the RiverClan border when the sky begins to turn its first shades of deep blue in the east. The Clans would be starting to wake by now, her own no doubt questioning their lack of leader. She trusts that Slate would pass her mission on to them: if not, then Oakrumble and Chickbloom definitely would.

Falcongaze's patrol might find the discarded bones of her breakfast later, the vole she'd taken from camp hopefully enough to sustain her today. She rakes soil over it, laps some water from the greenleaf-dried creek that separates her Clan from their neighbour, and then heads towards the jagged peaks in the far distance.

She seems to follow ThunderClan's earliest dawn patrol at a distance, never quite catching up to the fresh scent markers of their oak-forest neighbours nor catching sight of their pelts. Orangestar doesn't mind that so much, she decides as she hops over the not-quite-scorching planes of the flat rocks next to the river. These would be nice to rest on in leafbare, she notes idly, and continues her trek.

The rushing of water greets her ears as the sun warms further reaching its peak when, Orangestar slowing her pace to carefully pass over stepping-stones in the creek that separates ThunderClan from Fourtrees. It's a familiar path now, often travelled with their neighbours. On the far side she takes another rest, uncomfortable beneath sparse shadows but grateful for the reprieve.

It's at the far edge of Fourtrees that she waits now, sitting beneath the shadow of the Great Rock. The view before her is significantly different in the daytime, void of the five Clans, but muscle memory guides Orangestar to the place she'd sat as Blazestar's deputy. At least it is shadowed here, cool beneath the immense stone, and Orangestar takes the time to air out her long fur. Thank StarClan this place is shaded.

Voices, familiar, make her ears prick upwards. She is not hiding, but her gaze strains for the sight of her medicine cats among the trees.

"Fireflyglow," she calls. "Dawnglare."

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

• // @DAWNGLARE @Fireflyglow
  
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — single ; mentoring springpaw & ashpaw
  — speech is in #F18C47
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

The half - moon is monotony he's known for moons now. This one did not carry the subversion that the few moons previous have had — meaning lain in the new names and titles carried... always, forever, sacrilege, and yet StarClan would not so much as wink a gleaming eye. This moon, his eyes may glaze over once more. His paws may carry themselves mindlessly, treading that path that they so often did... A break in the trees leads to the Gathering place, the crater in Mother's skin they had once traded blows and blood like mongrels. ...Of course, it's been long... long, how long now? The moons have gotten away from him — as have the sunrises, cold and bitter things ever since Leaf - bare's solemn close. He did not feel the warming of that thing the same way all others have... It's all fickle, unfeeling nonsense. He's above it all; above the trickery and sun - smothered laughter. He would not be fooled so easily... He saw Him clear, within that ball of fire...

His first step into the clearing is a trembling one, wrought with memories of who once headed this rock. Of how he had once felt all - encompassing, glistening, comforting warmth from the stars that glittered at its helm. Now, it was all bitterness... Mutual, indeed. One of many silent battles that melded together an unseeable war. Unseeable to all but him, anyhow... Alone with these starry wraiths, the fur along his spine lifts, but sitting below them is no ghost... She is mortal, alive. Her status one as revolting as it has always been. " Orangestar, " with no discernable feeling, he says. It is a statement before it is a greeting. The idle sway of his tail slows to a standstill, curiosity molds his face to the barest of squints.

Where she sat – it is still more than she's ever deserved... but at the very least, when she'd still been cast in shadow, she had been easy to look away from. Blaze still warmed them all, rather than watching coldly from the sky. Teeth clasping a tongue bite down a sudden anger; frustration. Were he to lift a rueful gaze to the sky, an audience would be what he demands... But he gnashes it down, faces what is bare and boring and before his eyes, nevermind the white paw mangling the earth below. " What is it that brings you here...? "​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Milky hues flicker towards the source of Orangestar's voice, a paw lifted from the ground mid-step as Dawnglare responds to her in kind. His head dips low in response to the femme's summoning calls, Dawnglare's irritated body language going unwitnessed by the seal point. He is happy to meet with their leader, he thought she was worthy of the leadership she'd taken over. Of all the deputies he's known in his lifetime, Orangeblossom had been his favorite.

"Yes.. I wonder as well." He smiles upwards, scarred eyes fluttering closed as he glances upwards. He keeps close to Dawnglare's flank, tail twitching side to side curiously.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 24 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[Orangestar]

"Taking a break." In the space left behind after quiet greetings, Orangestar stands up and approaches the two. Tension settles atop her shoulders like a mantle, all-too-familiar by now, and her pawsteps are laden with a faint reservation that borders defensiveness. Ochre eyes linger behind her Clanmates for a moment, assessing the swaying undergrowth for any movement, and when Orangestar finds none she refocuses on the two medicine cats. They're alone, which surprises Orangestar to a degree: she'd expected Gentlestorm, at least, to be nearby. They would receive the truth, then.

"I ... had a dream last night. It wasn't like anything else I've ever seen. Like it was real, but wrong." Pale nose wrinkles, a glance sent skyward as if that would single-pawedly halt the burning sun in its tracks. "Cats of shadow, walking in step with each other. Their scent was the same as what we found on Applefrost and Dandelionwish. And then there was ... a meeting, of some kind? It wasn't SkyClan camp. It didn't seem like any of the Clans, and I didn't see who their leader was: my memory focused on the sky. A vivid sunset."

Her paws shuffle, vaguely unsure of herself for a heartbeat before she sets her shoulders and gaze level with the two taller SkyClanners. Mind already made up, she seeks no advice on her journey, though if they have anything else to tell her in the meantime she might take it on board. "I'm heading to Highstones, to see what StarClan can tell me anything else. Someone has to know. Did either of you hear from them last night?"

ooc ✧ 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦

•  
• 
  
  [ art by pin ]
• ORANGESTAR ✧ she/her, leader of skyclan | eight lives
  
  
  — "a scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes."
  — single ; mentoring springpaw & ashpaw
  — speech is in #F18C47
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

The narrow of his eyes is slight; dissatisfaction spelled, though he dares not lean too closesly into her word... Dares not devote himself, dares not let himself feel passion beneath a Leader's eye. They cared for it none. Lesson learned. Speak only when spoken to, the song they sung... Perhaps Orangestar says more like this than she is even adept enough to realize. Irritation pricks its way up his spine with every step... Did they possess they will to refute? To approach? The callous mew of Blazestar sounds in his ears, enter, as if he had ever needed permission. Claws slide from their sheathes, tethering him to the ground. With a prayer, he begs, give me strength. In return: silence.

A dream, attention is called there and then. Blue eyes sharpen under moonlight. The fox - points of his ears follow spider - spun words with an intentness they would not bother with, otherwise... His proceeding hum is thoughtful. StarClan loved to revel in their vagueness, didn't they? Was it a stint born of cynicism, or of a lack of power? Whichever was the answer, this one would indeed question how closely they should yield to them... There were steadier paws, just below this stitching of grass skin. Kinder paws, ones with the gift of nuance, not chained to harsh cutouts of something bad. A discontented growl heads his words, " Seems like StarClan has already showed you all that they are willing to, " he remarks, though he would take no real initiative to halt her... conquest.

" A vision, " Though his input was undeserved... ah, likely unwanted as well, he offers it. " Perhaps others have taken after this game you wild cats play... " Where were they now? Perhaps about twolegplace... He shudders to picture his old home clasped in the talons of something so garrish. To think of the little comfort he had left overtaken by this life - ruining nonsense. Warily, he seeks purchase in Mother's musings. Say it isn't so. Silence, again. Why the silence? " Perhaps they look to take your place, sometime soon, " he rumbles; lets the thought sit. Would Dawnglare fight against such a future? He had no obligation to it, anymore... A painted face gives a twitch.

" No, " the following answer is straightforward, accompanied by a blue - blazing gaze pitched fierce to his former apprentice. He would not dare keep such secrets from him, would he? A new name meant nothing in this proximity. They ought to remember it well...​