private PET SEMATARY ♱ mintshade

[cygnetstare]

Cygnetstare is aware she's made a mistake. Lonely nights, dusk coming on, prairie grass dappled gold. Gooseberry's white pelt and average demeanour had seemed gilded in the dying light, an effect compounded by her newfound awareness of her loneliness. She suspects she'll reap what she's sown soon enough, but until then, she's chosen to carry on as per normal. That means patrols, training her apprentice to make up for lost time; today, uncommonly, she's tagging along on a dusk patrol. Unorthodox, perhaps, but she wants to enjoy some time aboveground, out in the moor-grass and the open air, in the dusk when her skin stings the least. That means patrol with Mintshade.

She doesn't known Mintshade terribly well. They know she's Sootstar's sister, and that's about the end of it. As the pair of them draw near the area where cats stand guard of Highstones, she's compelled to wonder how Mintshade feels about the whole thing. Their Clan's quiet rejection of StarClan, and Sootstar's slow downwards spiral; the way they've claimed Highstones as their own, living in the shadow of a madwoman. She says none of these things, though. Instead she merely drawls, "Quite a scene down there last quarter-moon, ayuh?" The tone is neutral and nonjudgemental, as Cygnetstare's often is, if highly accented. "Always wondered what the hell goes on in there that makes that damn rock so special." Her voice is gravelly, choked with grave-dirt.

"We oughta spar sometime." Cygnetstare flicks one tattered ear, the proof of her own battle experience ringing her neck. "Think it'd be interestin'."

you will not choke the divine from me ♱ ( i am my own god and martyr )

• @Mintshade !!

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  cygnetstare ; warrior of windclan
  x. she/they ; 35 moons ; tags
  x. tiny, corpselike black smoke / albino chimera with gut-pink eyes and a large throat scar
  x. mentor to luckypaw.
  x. played by dejavu

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[Mintshade]

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"...don't like it myself. StarClan is...well, I seen'em. Great Battle...I fought Orangeblossom then, 'fore she got that prissy name. Tore her ear up good, left her a reminder of who I was. Then they came down, told us all to stop. I guess the territory being divided up like it is was nice, less fighting, less starving...StarClan knows what its doing even if I didn't like the lesson in morals." She remembers the yowling of cats, the blood spilled; the newest generation who only knew the clans could not even comprehend how violent times once were. You'd kill a newborn kit to keep it from starving and fed yourself the scraps you found so you could keep going. WindClan's 'savagery' as most saw it was hardly worse than how times simply were. The other clans changed, they held the same ideals of power and it was something she once liked.
Now she wasn't so sure, the black and white molly comments a change in subject with interest and it pulls her from her uneasy thoughts.

"Spar? Whuh? With you?" She cackles, hyena pitched and high, echoing out across the dark moorland with an underlying delight to her tone rather than any animosity. "Gonna throw dirt at me? Drag me into one of them holes, eh? Think I'd snap you like a twig maybe...you know, I wondered why I didn't pick tunneling. I'm lean enough for it, but it's awful tight in there isn't it? Feels like a grave." The privilege of being Sootstar's sister meant choosing her own path when the clan first formed and she decided she didn't want to wallow in the dirt and mud like the blue smoke did.

☣︎ All my friends are heathens, take it slow ☣︎ — Wait for them to ask you who you know

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  Mintshade
  —⊰⋅ Warrior (Moor Runner) of WindClan
  —⊰⋅ She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ SH Solid black cat w/ acid green eyes.
  

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