sensitive topics ..PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME [discovery]

[Fireflyglow]

TRIGGER WARNING This thread will have descriptions of intense grief, blood, torn bodies, and the smell of rotting bodies & rigor mortis setting in. If these topics make you uncomfortable, please avoid reading the thread. This thread is closed to everyone except the characters tagged.
@FIGFEATHER @Daisypaw @edenberry ?! @DOEBLAZE @Howlfire

The sun is high in the sky at this point, the chilly air warming his aching, screaming muscles as he dashes through foliage and around trees. His sensitive nose lifts up to the air, sniffing around. His tail taps along the ground as he slows to a brisk walk, the thick scent of monsters surrounding him. The smell of fresh paint, foreign to his nose and stinging his nostrils with its nasty fumes. Fireflyglow doesn't know twolegplace like his father and mentor did, like the Daylight Warriors with him did. His tail gives a little tap-tap to a piece of rock. He leans down, bent over and slouching- sniffing the rock. His scent is just barely there, the herb-tint and pine that made the two SkyClan. That's right.. Mallowlark had been apart of their ranks for many moons now, that the moorland scent no longer stuck to his pelt. He is wholly part of the pines now. Guilty, dripping remorse pours from his aching heart as he lifts his muzzle back up to the air.

"Monsters, dogs. I could hear it, with the sound of twolegs chattering." He says aloud to nobody in particular, hoping the Daylight Warriors may be of more use than himself. For all of the help that his nose is locating herbs, locating cats in a territory he didn't often venture to was foreign. A realization dawns on him, that he was nothing special compared to the Warriors of SkyClan. Had he finished his training with Huckleberry, he might have been- but Dawnglare had chosen him. Chosen him in the midst of painful wheezes, of near-death experience. His breath is hollow.

His charcoal paws press to the ground, the vision ringing a headache in his brain. It stings, Fireflyglow closing his eyes and hissing, eyebrows scrunched- a rattling growl of irritation passing through grit fangs. His left paw rises to his forehead, pressing there and smacking as if that would quell the incessant throbbing. He could not see here, and Stars.. That made him angry. He remembers the look on Dawnglare's face despite the blurriness of his dream, the glitching of shadows and sparkling of stars. A touch of freezing cold body against warmth. He doesn't want to believe that Dawnglare had died here.

"Eden, Spicey- you recognize anything?" Fireflyglow calls out to the two Daylight Warriors, tail twitching nervously behind him. They would know this place better than the rest of them, right? Right? He instinctively reaches his tail out for his sister, seeking momentary comfort from his fears. "I can smell them.. It's very faint, though. I'm no good at tracking." He mutters loud enough for the others to hear, biting the inside of his cheek until the taste of iron coats his tongue.

​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 26 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[edenberry ?!]

The forest litter underfoot turns to gravel all too soon... though they can feel the apprehension of those that wander down these shadowed paths with them, Edenberry has never felt so certain before. They know these winding mazes of tar-covered trails... can pick apart scents that seem as old and familiar as the sun itself... For all their aimless wandering on nights spent in mixed company, the night-dusted cat can at least say they learned something useful. Carefully, they sift through the scenery with slow, intentioned glances, hoping to spot a tuft of ruddy fur or a too-wide grin that might identify their missing clan-mates... but nothing becomes immediately clear.

Fireflyglow offers his detailed recollection in fevered lists, citing and reciting what he'd heard. It had become a mantra in his head perhaps, begging not to be forgotten lest Dawnglare be lost to a nebulous, uncertain fate. Could they really save him...? What did it mean to have this omen from StarClan's lips directly? Edenberry had always thought that of the rules of engagement, a distinct deadness was required to pass on signs and wisdoms. They shrug it off, suddenly gladdened they were not thrust down the same path that the seal point has been.

They take several, clacking strides as tiny rocks shift under every paw step... a tiny cascade that announces their search party in haunting echoes where sound glances off of tall walls. They cling to Spicepurr out of habit, only reminded of their proximity at the sudden touch of her cinnamon swirl fur at their shoulder- "Sorry," they whisper quickly, ripping themself away to give her the space they presume she needs rather than waiting for her response.

"Eden, Spicey-" They ears swivel, summer-greens turning towards milky stare to offer their fullest attention to the dismayed medicine cat. "It's going to be okay, Firefly," they offer in hopes of soothing him so his fur might lie flat again. For all his lack of skills in tracking, Figfeather had pulled together a competent group to act on his behalf instead. What good was a clan for... if not relying on one another's differences? It doesn't strike them that he's adorned them with nicknames... that they've shortened his name in return as a bid of friendly companionship...

As they turn to watch where their paws lead them, they notice a mound that waft a disgusting odor in their direction as soon as they recognize it. Their lips pull back in disgust, screwing up their nose as they gesture with a nod of their head, "Looks like some nasty mutt's been around here recently... There's dog.... dung over there," they meow, lifting a paw that flicks with their revulsion. "It reeks...." It would make tracking anything a bit harder until they got upwind of it....

⟡₊ ⊹ i ll betray you like a man

• 
• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 18 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back
  -- color #728c69

​

 

[spicepurr]

A vision. Spicepurr cannot recall the last time she's been privy to StarClan's matters - perhaps never. Her youth had been filled with pillows and blankets, kibble and occasional slop that cannot compare to that of prey. The chaos the Clans endure each season is still relatively new to her, at least with her experience compared to that of others in this parade. And yet, Figfeather pulled her from the throng. Her... and Edenberry.

Stay safe. Cherryblossom has some care for her sibling. Spicepurr holds that in her mind's eye as she trots alongside the patrol, feeling no difference as pine nettle becomes asphalt, as the fresh woodland air tapers into smog and pollution. She can tell that some of the others struggle with the shift, given their forestborn lineage and lack of want to even explore the beyond.

Green eyes flicker to Edenberry, as the other touches her shoulder briefly. It's your exploration- she thinks briefly, but the thought is so mournfully cut off by an apology. Had she frustration in her gaze? Did she mutter a noise that didn't reach her own ears, even, or was she cold to the touch? Edenberry shifts from her and Spicepurr tries again to recenter herself. It's my fault, she tells herself, her focus not with her. Yet an admittance of guilt, in silence and over nothing in particular, quiets the thoughts of her white pelted sibling.

Fireflyglow calls her Spicey and she's grateful that he cannot see her hard blink. This is their chance to show their skills - them, combined with the effort of Figfeather, Howlfire, and Doeblaze. Daisypaw, too, for all intents and purposes can use his nose to discern out details in the concrete forest. Her tail sweeps across the ground and her gaze finds her sibling first, just as the other notices dung not far off. Reasonably so does the younger sibling's face contort in disgust, her paws carrying her a careful step away for good measure.

She looks around, tearing her gaze from the dung to gauge the different yards and gardens around them. After a beat, she motions the patrol to a nearby fence line. "I recognize this," she says, simply. A moon of wandering the twolegplace has done some good, she supposes. Even if it isn't the good she's wanted. "The twolegs here have hounds. Their stench is going to obscure everything we try to find -" a pause as she gauges the area. A look towards their medicine cat and the warriors that perch by his sides, "We should hook around this corner. The dogs are usually trapped by the fence," usually, she emphasizes, and her gaze falls to the dung again, briefly. "We'll have better luck if we can move past the scent."​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

StarClan worked in mysterious ways. A simple-minded warrior such as herself would never be able to decipher the visions and omens they sent to their medicine cats. It is their deep-rooted connection with their ancestors that allows them to understand them so easily, but sometimes not even medicine cats were certain what a vision meant fully.

All they knew was that Dawnglare, or some starry manifestation of him, had beckoned Fireflyglow to come find him. So here they were, sniffing out whatever they could.

Edenberry and Spicepurr collectively pointed out the stench of dog. Figfeather's head shot up from the ground as her heartbeat quickened. Dog, she thought. Wherever traces of the foul beasts were found, trouble was always sure to be near. Spicepurr recognized this place and informed the patrol that the twolegs here kept hounds, their scent would obstruct them from finding anything useful.

Figfeather nodded and moved to pad around the corner the daylight warrior had instructed them to maneuver around. As she does this her nose wrinkled as she inhaled the sharp, metallic scent of cat blood. It was a scent she knew all too well, a scent that filled her with a sickening dread. The smell was so strong that it made her gag, and she had to close her eyes to keep from retching.

"...Daisypaw..." She manages to utter to her apprentice, opening her eyes but her nose remaining wrinkled, "That smell..." Her apprentice has come plenty far enough in his training, he'd know this scent too.

​

 

[Daisypaw]

When Fireflyglow had originally ran into the camp after his trek through the forest to meet with the other medicine cats Daisypaw had had a sinking feeling within his stomach. There was no reason a medicine cat should burst through the gorse in that way unless something was wrong, and though he didn't want to be correct he had thought it had to do with the strawberry-hued medicine cat and his mate, for they hadn't come back. He had thought it could be something to do with where they were, that Fireflyglow had seen them within the forest and needed help, but he hadn't thought about how if that were the case then Greeneyes would have come back alone instead to tell them where to go while Firefly stayed behind to make sure they would live. When he asked for those good with tracking and they had head out and he had explained a little further, the apprentice finally swallowed the lump that had been forming in his throat - so it was about the two.

He murmurs about the vision that he had received at the moonstone, about the noises that had drawn the patrol to this place now, and the apprentice's ears perk up as the daylight warriors mention dogs. He looks towards his mentor for just a moment before looking back in front of them, more alert now than he had been before, maw opening as ears swiveled just in case as he followed along with the cats near him. Maw opened to scent the air before it quickly snapped shut at the stench of the blood, acrid and pungent, assaulted his senses. "It's bad..." he'd respond to Figfeather's mention of the smell. He'd be surprise if there were no others that could smell it by now, the way copper permeated through the air. The only good thing it was for now would be to find whatever was at the end of it, and he sent a small prayer to StarClan that it was not their medicine cat at the end of the trail.

He moved carefully alongside the fences that the dogs usually weren't tied to, carefully around whatever corners he was told to head in as they followed the trail. He has to pause when the scent gets stronger, head turning away as ears pin to his head as the scent began to change, growing more and more sour as they had begun to near before turning to rot to death. He suppresses the urge to gag as he swallows down the spit that began to fill his mouth to drown out the scent. "Whatever is this way it's bad... if it's them..." He didn't want to finish the statement. If it was Dawnglare and Mallowlark there was no way they'd be alive, and if they were there was no way they would make the journey back to camp to get healed.

ooc ♡ careful now with my head

• --
• 
• DAISYPAW ♡ he/him / apprentice of SkyClan
  
  
  ♡ born november 8, 2023. ages realistically
  ♡ adopted by Butterflytuft and Dandelionwish
  ♡ brother to Weedpaw, Fluffypaw, and Budkit
  ♡ mentored by Figfeather
  ♡ speaks in #708abb
  ♡ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ♡ penned by tikki
  

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

CONTENT WARNING : Emetophobia (in addition to those already given in Fireflyglow's initial post).

✦

The sun glaring down from above, lending little warm to the leaf-fall chill, does nothing to disguise the grim nature of their mission. Twolegplace. It's familiar and not at the same time, being six seasons past since she stepped paw inside. And with recent memories as fresh in her mind as the paint drying around them, it's a little unsettling. The strange walls of Twolegplace rise high around them, and Doeblaze keeps her jaws constantly parted, trying to ferret out snatches of pine and sun-warmed strawberry amidst the riot of artificiality. A scent she so loathes, the bitterness of herbs cloying on the roof of her mouth, and yet what she wouldn't give to drown in it at the moment. If it would assure Dawnglare's safety, assure that Fireflyglow's dream had been just that.

But the snatches of it he gives to them have her looking at him sidelong and uneasy. It's ... descriptive, uncannily reminiscent of the scene around them in so few words. Doeblaze nods, then catches herself and says, " Gotcha. " When her eyes stray towards the medicine cat again (possibly now forever in the singular, she realizes with an uneasy shudder), she finds him clutching at his head. Before she can say anything, though, he's calling out to the pair of daylighters, and she lets her eyes follow his sightless ones. The tone of his muttering has her heart fluttering uneasily, and she tries for a brighter remark that lands stilted and grim: " That's why we're here, yeah? "

Edenberry and Spicepurr rush obediently forth with a familiarity long lost to her, faces rumpling in identical disgust as they call attention to a stinking mound. " Oh, damn, there is. Good catch. " She opts not to venture any closer, lest the faint reek in her nostrils grow stronger, but the bridge of her nose wrinkles still. When Spicepurr beckons them forward, Doeblaze nods in deference to the more familiar daylighter and trots after the rest of them around the corner, hoping to lose the obscuring reek of the dog's dung. Her hackles rise instinctively, the scent bringing back bad memories with a force that frightens.

Figfeather catches it before she does, and Daisypaw alongside her a couple tail-lengths ahead of Doeblaze herself. Copper tang is cloying in her nose, oppressive in a way that extolls far more than a scraped paw or a split lip—thick and awful and painfully familiar in its strength. Grimly, she recognizes that the realm of tragedy has long been her provenance, and lopes forward with a terrible purpose. " I'll go look, " she chokes out over the scent of blood—blood on snow, so much of it, too much—no, no, blood in the air of a sunny Twolegplace with auburn leaves at their paws.

Doeblaze strides forth, jaws parted to drink in that awful smell, following it as it grows stronger and stronger, the small comfort of Howlfire at her side, until—

Blood, so much blood. Long dried on the ground, but before she can focus on what she sees, she's forced to focus on what she smells. Blood-scent ripens and then overripens into spoiled fruit, sun-rotted meat, the heavy awful stench of death like she's never known before. It's warm and awful on the roof of her mouth, sickly sweet and dripping rot, so bad her gorge rises with a violence, with a vengeance—she gags once, twice, at the overwhelming stench of decay. Thank whatever stars watch this awful tableau, she gets control of her stomach just in time, and her gags don't get far enough to bring up anything. Barely.

Her face has been instinctually twisted away, but she grabs her limbs as if with iron claws and forces them to twist, to turn on a creaking neck. Torn flesh in bitter strips, so many things broken and twisted and ripped between the two of them she doubts they could form one whole cat put together. Heads, legs, throats—pink flesh putrefying into purple and yellow, into the awful stench in the air. Her stomach lurches protestingly, and she tastes bile, but her glassy face does not move, forcing it down with what little force of will she can cling to. It's familiar and not all at once, and she screws her eyes shut when she recognizes the bodies, the blue eyes frozen glassy and white fur spattered maroon-brown with crusted blood.

" No, no— " she chokes out, then snaps her mouth shut for fear of what might come out, words or otherwise. It's with a faraway and terrible shock she recognizes the heat trickling down her cheeks as tears. Why am I crying? Grief has been so familiar, she never thought she could find within it a new aspect, and yet she does. And Doeblaze weeps; silently, she weeps for what has been wasted, for what has been lost with the two cats before them. She weeps for the loss of guaranteed moons of glares and snipes and arguments. She weeps for what she loses with her hatred; a last scrap of memory, a facet of Blazestar she'd never known, wiped from the earth with a snap of jaws. She weeps for the indignity of this death, of strewn flesh and rot curling into the air, a place devoid of holiness. Peculiarly, she weeps for them, for Dawnglare and Mallowlark.

" Fireflyglow— " she manages, even as rot curls anew on the back of her tongue and the last of her tears dry on her cheeks, gone as quick as they came with the aid of her paw. She does not want to tell him, does not want to bring down upon him this awful weight she knows so well. And a terrible thought strikes her, terrible for its practicality: how will we get them home? How will we bury them? For Dawnglare surely could not go unburied, lest he smite them from his newfound place in the sky. The thought brings a terrible gag-laugh from her chest, a burbling croak of a thing.

" How— " She cannot inhale deeply to clear her head, and her breaths feel trapped in her chest. Instead, she flexes her claws in and out of the clean ground below them. It is a familiar exercise, one she has practiced over so many recent moons. She imagines the ground is her will, her claws seizing it and bending it so that it might be cooperative. So that this horrible paradox of grief can be felt later. She clears her throat. " How will we bury them? "​

 

[Howlfire]

Despite a high sun, the air is cold and bracing. In a way, it gives a foreboding air to this little mission, Howlfire thinks but does not say. She wants to remain hopeful, not just for the clan's sake but for her brother too. Poor Fireflyglow...he was really rattled by what he had seen. He had revealed that Dawnglare had apparently given him a vision, asking to come and find him, whilst leaving Fireflyglow with enough hints that it appeared he would be found in the twolegplace. As some of the other warriors fan out, Howlfire stands close to her brother for a moment, giving him long enough to swish over her back. She is close enough to hear him muttering about what he heard in his vision and nodded curtly. Well, it certainly sounded like the twolegplace at least, so her brother wasn't too far off in that estimation.

Howlfire finally breaks away to scent the air, trying to pick up some hint of Dawnglare or Mallowlark. She's been on a few patrols to the twolegplace, and though it is somewhat familiar to her, there's still a lot of oddities about the place she can't get used to. There are so many smells for, it's almost distractingly overwhelming, though when Edenberry and Spicepurr both pointed out the dog scent, Howlfire focuses on it too. "It's very strong," Howlfire mumbled, wrinkling her nose on slight disgust. She doesn't know whether it's strong because a dog passed through here recently or that there were simply a lot of dogs in the twolegplace, either way, Howlfire does not want to linger on it for long.

It is Figfeather and Daisypaw that pick up on the scent of blood first. It seems almost as strong as the dog smell but it's the strength of it that leaves her uneasy. She aims a nervous glance in Doeblaze's direction, her mind already beginning to shift towards the worst conclusion. When the older cat offers to look, she pads over alongside her. "I'll come with you too," She mewed.

They aren't walking for long before they come across all the old dried blood on the floor, and lingering in the air is the heavy scent of decay. That smell alone gives her pause, makes her want to hesitate, to not cross the precipice into what they were about to find. In a way, she's somewhat prepared for the discovery of their bodies, and yet even so, she almost retches when her eyes land on the mangled forms of Mallowlark and Dawnglare. "Oh, Stars..." Howlfire finally manages to say. She's only able to talk once she tears her gaze away. She has seen death before - too many times, one might say - and yet nothing has felt as violent as the scene she looks upon now. Had it been fast, she wondered. For how violent the scene looks, with torn flesh and twisted limbs, she hopes it had been for their sake.

"Fi-" She turns to her brother, but despite her intention to say more, she falters looking at him. Howlfire wonders if he had anticipated this as a potential outcome based on his vision. Had this always been a possibility for him or had he maintained some foolish hope that his mentor and Mallowlark would be safe and well. Howlfire crosses the distance between them and by the time she reaches her brother, there are tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, Fi. I'm so, so sorry," she sniffed, pressing her nose against his cheek. "They're gone."​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Fireflyglow accepts the reassurance of his clanmates, though the bubbling anxiety that eats at him never wanes. Edenberry and Spicepurr scent a dog, recent dung sitting in a pile on the ground not too far from him. His nose crinkles at the scent. Spicepurr's voice goes a bit more further, and Fireflyglow follows her scent eagerly- like a lost beacon. Dogs live beyond this fence, and the loud whimpering in the distance is evidence of that. Scratches against the wooden fence, desperate to get through. Fireflyglow doesn't react, too focused on the blending scents of dog and Dawnglare and Mallowlark. They aren't far from this location.

His heart throbs painfully in his chest when he follows after Howlfire. Figfeather and Daisypaw, along with Doeblaze has tracked the scent of blood. He sits there desperately like a useless kit, before Doeblaze's voice catches his attention. His name, called upon a croaking mix between a laugh and gag. Then, Howlfire speaks, returning to his side to deliver the news.

I'm sorry, Fi. I'm so sorry. They're gone.

She tells him, all but confirming his worst fears. Some individuals were scared of spiders, some afraid of losing their ranks. To someone like Fireflyglow, who's existence was permitted to continue because of Dawnglare, losing him was like he was dying all over again. His paws trip, stumbling past his sister and ignoring the apologies spoken to him. They don't understand. They didn't know Dawnglare like he did. Like Mallowlark did. Like Blazestar did. His paws stumble once more, and as he pushes through the bushes roughly, the smell of acrid, putrid flesh hits his nose. He had never smelt a rotting corpse before, not in his many moons of being a medicine cat. His senses overwhelm him, blind to the sight before him. Maybe it was a gift, to not see his mentor and his mate with blood splattered across the ground. Bodies stiffening, gaping holes from sharp teeth. His breath quickens, but the need to gag furthers as well. Fireflyglow swallows the thick saliva gathering on his tongue, fighting back the vomit that threatens to spill over as a loud hiccuping cry leaves him.

"Dawn-" He calls out, as if the corpse could hear him. His body was being absorbed by Her now, he realizes. The smell of rotting skin and decaying muscles, of bugs eager to worm into the gaping holes left in their fur. Fireflyglow listens to Doeblaze's words, (How will we bury them?) though he doesn't let it occupy his mind for long. The ground has fallen out beneath him, paws reaching out to drag his uselessly heavy body towards the decaying corpses that were somehow still in one part. His paws feel along Dawnglare's form, ignoring the horrible scent of decay. The smell of mint and rotting bodies does not smell good, he realizes then. The spiciness of the herb does not tone down the scent any more. It must have been hours since they died here, based on the level of stiffness in Dawnglare's joints. Fireflyglow doesn't realize he is screaming, begging for Dawnglare to come back. "I'm sorry!" He cries out, his face pressing into Dawnglare's neck. Thickening, sticky blood sticks to his fur as he holds on to the body of the one who raised him from Death's dying grip.

He is wailing before he knows it, shoulders trembling as he struggles to breathe through the screams of agony that leaves his throat. It is absolute, the realization that Dawnglare was indeed not immortal. That they were all bound to this mortal world, and preparing for the day Mother claims their bodies and StarClan retrieves their soul. His only comfort in this moment is that Dawnglare had not been alone when he was slaughtered. Fireflyglow's paw reaches out for the one that Mallowlark had extended for Dawnglare, and he fights against the nasty need to vomit from the smell. He grasps hold of Mallowlark's scruff, teeth sinking into tensing flesh as he roughly pulls Mallowlark closer to his mate. He would bury them together, with all the memories they had kept between themselves. They would die with their secret ventures underneath a crimson moon, their wry little smirks to each other. This is a visceral pain so raw it feels like you're being torn apart from the inside, he notices. His chest cavity aching to split open and expose itself to the bodies before him. Fireflyglow's twisted mind imagines dying here, too, so he wouldn't be without Dawnglare. Even if he had left the Clan, he would still be alive- had those dogs not found them.

"I love you, please-" Fireflyglow begs in a shaking voice, trembling paws smoothing over Dawnglare's face. Blindly patting for his and Mallowlark's eyes to close them to the world. A cold wind nips at his body, and Fireflyglow begs Her to take him with them. "No, no.. I could have fixed them. If I had just gone with them, instead of stayed back like a coward.. I.." Bloodied paws wipe at his own face, smearing the sticky ichor across his cream jawline. "I should have said it to you. I should have told you how much you meant to me more often. I should have-" He wails out again, face pressing into the bloodied ground, the feast of maggots yet to begin. They were still in one piece. Just heavier, with the stiffening of flesh and joints having already set in. Fireflyglow was a mess, fat tears soaking into his cheek fur and blood dampening his body- snot dribbling from his nose. He had never been a pretty crier. He is thankful in these moments that the patrol won't mock him for it. The sounds that surround him echo, warbling into nothingness as numbness claims his senses. His throat is raw from the shrieks and screams he releases, sobs wracking his body. Dawnglare had been a part of him, even if not by blood- but he was what brought him back to life. Fireflyglow had owed everything to the strawberry and cream tom. Now he lay, rotting and long deceased against his trembling paws.

He is unable to properly move now, merely hiccuping loud sobs into his mentor's fur. The conversation around him is nothing to him. Talks of how to move them, how to get them back to camp. He must surely look disgusting now, but he finds that he doesn't care. Let him be covered in the blood of his mentor and his grinning mate. Mallowlark's face has relaxed with death, his grin disappearing and leaving his mouth open and leaking ichor instead. He is once again thankful that he cannot see it, but his paws can feel it. The truth of the matter settles like a heavy stone in his gut. Fireflyglow would have to carry on without Dawnglare from now on. The burden now weighs upon his shoulders like a ton brick, and Fireflyglow crumbles under its weight. He should have told Dawnglare he loved him. This was all his fault.

"I'm..hic!..so sorry!" He whispers softly through the babbles of nothingness he spills from his lips, his throat raw from screaming. He falls silent soon enough. "..We're going to carry them. It smells bad, I know, but Dawn and Mallow deserve to be buried in the Clan they devoted their lives to." Fireflyglow finally speaks through an aching, cracking voice of basstone. "Two cats can carry one of them each." He prepares to scoot himself under the rotting corpse of Dawnglare, blood smearing across his pelt as blood squelches audibly beneath his paws. Waiting for another to join him, with eyes devoid of their usual light, Fireflyglow stares blankly in the direction of camp. He is no longer an acolyte, worshipping a pillar of immortality- he is a man of mortality, whispering faux words of prayer for a man who had died a horrible death.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 26 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[edenberry ?!]

The dog should've been the first hint. Maybe it's that weird hope that what had safely nestled Paladin from such harm would in turn save their medicine cat. He is auburn against a backdrop of wood and brick... followed by a ghost of grinning, persistent affection. Did Raindrop see them like that...? A smiling specter, adoring at their heels through their hardships? The comparison makes their stomach turn with discomfort, a guilt gnawing there as Spicepurr's presence compounds it- There is luck in the sound of Figfeather's voice, though she reels away from whatever she notices and casts Daisypaw a tremoring glance.... They don't have to wait long to join her in such a state of concerned dismay. A wall of acrid tang hits first... and then, a slow, creeping, meaty undertone wafts through the haunting alleyways. It's like those huge, fly-infested boxes made of slick stones that dot the longer buildings... like the one they'd caught that stray cat digging around in for food. It isn't so sweet as the stink of fruit fermented by mold... does not mimic the sticky grossness of mixed, nebulous liquids that pool at the bottoms, that leak out the holes in the sides... It's far more familiar, like a bite of a mouse on an oppressive summer afternoon.

Doeblaze's voice grows hoarse suddenly, as if her throat has closed up against whatever she sees as she surges forward past sun-kissed fur and younger eyes. "No, no--" Already they know the mournfulness that hangs in her dejection, the same way they'd pleaded for Tawnystripe not to go. Begged that maybe Dawnglare might save him, might pull all of those jagged spikes out of his pelt and mend the holes to keep him whole- There are gaping empty spaces in him too now....

Edenberry feels their legs buckle, the deep reds of exposed flesh lined in dandelion shades of tissue proving far too grisly to comprehend at first. Almost as if in sympathy, their body slows, loses its warmth and freezes.... Terror-thin stare fixates on the reaching of pale paws that barely do not touch. They are so close to one another, marred features tilted in sorrowful goodbye to their loves. Their last glimmers of light. They'd found a piece of StarClan in each other maybe, the reassuring feeling of home. Did they divide and fall apart because of that claw's distance they couldn't overcome? Did they feel cold and alone, deprived of one final good-bye touch? Sympathy fuels the rising waves of a tsunami, flooding mossy shores in deadly silence.

Fireflyglow wails... they can hear him... but it is so far away... And they can no longer make out the words as he pleads not to be left alone. Regret pools from him, an overwhelming waterfall that drowns them too. Had they told Cherryblossom they loved her before they disappeared? Did Lupinesong know they loved her too, a warm blanket of shadow to keep them afloat in a sea of darkness? Were Twitchbolt and Butterflytuft aware of the ever-present comfort they radiated, the same one they'd clung to since they were small? Spicepurr must know that her love, for all her willingness to keep secrets and hide and be their solid rock, could never reach the lengths they would go to in order to keep her safe... to make sure she thrived in a love they never got; a pedestal that a little sister's reaching arms could never grasp- I'd do anything for you. Could Raindrop have noticed in the way they so delicately tucked their gift into their fur that they held it with loving devotion? Did I tell them I loved them before I sent them away?

Did Dawnglare know, in those last few moments, that they hadn't meant to scold him like a petulant kit? Was Mallowlark remembering an apprentice with a penchant for back-talking their deputy, fondly teasing them about hexes and respect? They had always been apart of SkyClan to them... Had been an ever constant, unmovable force from the background of their life. Had humored their bad days and tolerated their good ones. It was just... a bad day... It was one bad day, they protest, watching in transfixed horror as the scene of their leaving replays in their head. They'd told Orangestar that... it had been for the best that Mallowlark went with him. That they'd cool off and be back soon. "I.. I should've followed them," they mumble, hardly able to feel their lips move, "I should've made sure...." Had their reassurance forestalled saving them...? If it had been pressed harder, would others have rushed to keep them from wandering these deadly halls? Could they have been spared such a cruel, torturous death?

They can't remember how long they stare before suddenly the seal point is hunched beside Dawnglare trying to lift him, despite the way his body groans with rotted protest. Despite the overwhelming smell of an unnecessary loss. Their paws trace the jagged stones, not even noticing when one of them jabs like knife into their pad, trailing tiny droplets on their hurried path towards Mallowlark. They could apologize... they could make up for this in making sure they got home. In making sure they got a proper rest. They deserved to be tended to and remembered, just like everyone else in that graveyard. "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry," they tuck up close to moonlight fur, stained crimson by the red string of fate that had bled so heavily when cut so short. They are not so different from him now... splattered by pieces of him on a glaringly pale coat.... "Don't let go of him..." they whisper to a body that cannot hear them, desperately pleading that the moment their spirits had departed that he'd lunged that tiny distance they'd been apart and held Dawnglare as tightly as he'd deserved. Hoping that they had walked there together... not a moment spent alone.

⟡₊ ⊹ i ll betray you like a man

• 
• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 18 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back
  -- color #728c69

​

 

[Daisypaw]

cw: Emetophobia at the end of the second paragraph!

There are too many emotions that flow through Daisypaw after the scent of blood is found, his words of how bad things could be going heard and heeded as the patrol moves carefully forward more towards that stench of rot and death. Doeblaze and Howlfire take the lead now, moving carefully through everything twolegplace has to offer them to get in their way before the words of horror and disbelief reach the apprentice's ears, and he pauses. It is just for a moment - a small thing, unnoticed by likely all but himself - but he pauses, fear coursing through him for what they might see beyond that wall of scent when the last corner is rounded, but he swallows it down as quick as it had come and pushes forward, rounding that corner just as eyes land on blood-stained fur of two bodies that were never meant to look as they did now.

Staring at each other in death as they did in life the two bodies of clanmates - whether they would call themselves that in the end with their leaving only so recently in a fit of anger - were mutilated in ways that Daisypaw never thought he would see. The danger of dogs and going out alone were shown in this moment, of twisted limbs wrapped in viscera. There are now words that the blue-coated apprentice could think to say, too many racing through his mind as eyes widen as bile builds up, threatening to overflow. He manages for now until Fireflyglow mentions carrying them home, that even though they were in this state they deserved a burial at home where they belonged and though Daisypaw agreed, he didn't like the way the blood pooled and coagulated on the ground, didn't like the sound of it as it unsticks from the ground and instead chooses the fur of the medicine cat to stick to, the way their bodies moved as more cats surrounded them and quickly he moves to the side, the contents of his stomach erupting as soon as he's out of sight.

Quietly he'd move back and move beside Fireflyglow to help the other with the job of carrying Dawnglare back, ears pinning to his head at the way the blood ran thick and cold onto his fur before silently looking to the other. Though he knew he couldn't be seen, he could only hope that Fireflyglow knew he was here for him, that he would help him to carry home the body of the cat who had healed so many within the clan, and who despite his best efforts was loved by so many of them.

ooc ♡ careful now with my head

• --
• 
• DAISYPAW ♡ he/him / apprentice of SkyClan
  
  
  ♡ born november 8, 2023. ages realistically
  ♡ adopted by Butterflytuft and Dandelionwish
  ♡ brother to Weedpaw, Fluffypaw, and Budkit
  ♡ mentored by Figfeather
  ♡ speaks in #708abb
  ♡ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ♡ penned by tikki
  

​

 

[spicepurr]

She yields to the elder warriors, finds placement beside her sibling as the others take her advice in navigating the twolegplace. Spicepurr cannot discern it at first - in the white noise of artificial twoleg scents and the overpowering nature of hound dung, the nauseating taste of loss is obscured. It is... until it isn't. She falls to the back of the patrol as they continue, eyes lazing about the cobblestone and asphalt roads as if she will see two ivory cats, one adorned with a maroon coat, cackling at them from down the way.

Instead, she hears the choked gasps - the apologies, the retching, the screams.

Green eyes tilt back in a painfully slow manner. She can hardly make sense of the scene before her as Fireflyglow cries, his paws patting down bloody masses of clumped fur, closing eyes and dragging corpses closer together. She flinches, even, when Mallowlark's body drops with no give, as if a soul had never inhabited his body at all. The smell is all she can make of them now - gone is the background noise of the town around them, lost is the foul dog scent that once clogged her nose. All she can find now is decay and rot and filthy, iron-bitten ichor. Her own stomach begs to spill, clenches to expel everything it has.

She doesn't realize how still she had grown in the face of the discovery until Edenberry tilts forth, Daisypaw behind them. Her bones ache, begging her to move forth, too... but she can't. Not as quickly, at least. Spicepurr realizes with sudden distance that she doesn't know these cats, mauled by canines, no different than discarded prey. She knew who they once were but even then, the false idols they were in life meant nothing to her. The SkyClanners before her weep and mourn the loss of two well loved SkyClanners in turn. And yet Spicepurr...

She doesn't even want to touch them.

But Edenberry does. And even with shock stapling her paws to the stone ground, the cinnamon she-cat cannot pull herself away from the need to blend in. Her teeth grit together as browned-red spills into Edenberry's clean fur, her jaw hurting as she finally presses forward, finally makes herself useful beyond sending the patrol directly into a dog's former meal. (She thinks, now, that she can hear their howling - as if they are mournful they could not finish their feast.)

She gags as she shifts into place beside her sibling, nose pressing beneath cold white fur. Again everything in her tenses as she helps lift Mallowlark, as the last of his blood mingles into her pelt - his viscera damn near slides off of what is left of his body. In her urge to be correct, she adjusts her positioning only for it to slap against her side. A shiver and another gag, and she straightens her posture once again. She prepares herself beside Edenberry, prepares to match the other step for step and accommodate for the stiff, unmoving tom that rests across their shoulders.

"We should leave -" a pause as her stomach takes a chance - she forces it back down with a swallow, her face contorting as the stench consuming her falls down her throat in a thick, clunky feeling. "Quick," she tries again. "Before whatever... before it comes back," she does not speak unkindly but neither does she make room for apologies nor slow mourning. There will be no vigil for any of them should they linger a moment longer.​