camp pyrrhic victory ☾ camp return

[BOBBIE]

// tw for very very brief and vague suicidal ideation

The trek home is many things. Stumbling over her paws, dipped in blood halfway to the shoulder, copper flaking off her muzzle. A death march, a funeral procession; someone will no doubt bury him in hallowed earth soon enough, but she doesn't want to be there for that. She doesn't want to be there for anything.

She's half leaning on someone, half being carried by them, droplets of blood still rolling from the ruined mess of her face. She couldn't tell fur from flesh if her life depended on it, and it very well might—she stumbles and whoever she's supported by hoists her up again with a small oof. Her paws are numb, heart barely fluttering, empty as a tomb. The gaping faces and kits quickly ushered away mean nothing to her, the pelts she should recognize through the red still smearing her vision.

Her mind is not kind enough to give her the grace of denial, only blankness. Blazestar is dead.

At least she had gutted the moor-rat who did it.

"speech"

​

 

[GREENEYES]

This isn't how the patrol was supposed to end. It wasn't meant to be a silent march toward final goodbyes, he wasn't meant to be tasked with another clanmate — a leader — to find between constellations. He'd thought, hoped, for a peaceful patrol, but Greeneyes and the rest of his party return in tragedy.

Blazestar is dead.

He is crimson-stained, the white of his fur a thumbnail of the bloodied scene they'd come across. He is crimson-stained — stars, they must all be — but not of his own blood. Its owner is uncertain, bound to be a concoction of the two who died, the one who lives. The weight of his leader's fallen, unmoving form is against his shoulder, against others too. Faces he can't find the means to process in their procession, his vision dimmed as they press forward.

Blazestar is dead.

The young lead warrior — is that still what he is? Blazestar is not here to lead the clan, not here to seek his council — can't bring himself to look at his clanmates as they push through the entrance. His gaze dips down to his paws, tears threatening to fall as the burst of color that they hold startles him.

He can't bear to look at their grief-struck faces, can't bear to watch Butterflytuft hide her kits from viewing her fallen mentor's marred form, to see Howlfire and Fireflypaw discover what he already has. Had they left sooner, could they have stopped this from happening? Could they have returned with Blazestar walking at Bobbie's side instead of held above him?

Blazestar is dead.

He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to rid himself of the blood on his coat, of scarlet burned into his memory. He doesn't know what comes next, how one mourns the only leader they've ever known. ​

✦ ABOUT

• 

  GREENKIT ‣ GREENPAW ‣ GREENEYES
  ── Lead Warrior of SkyClan
  
  ── Daisyflight x Raven Ramble
  ── AMAB; He/Him
  ── A red tabby and white tom with bright green eyes.
  ── Mentored by Sheepcurl; Currently mentoring Falconpaw
  ── "Speech"; Attack​

​

 

[falcongaze]

❝ STATUES AND EMPIRES✧°.☀ ————————————
Falconpaw’s shoulder was pressed tightly against Bobbie’s. He didn’t move far, despite any blood that may have deepened his pelt’s color, despite any complaint of pain she had, or any argument Drowsypaw may have tried to start. His voice came softly near her ear, determination written into it despite the grief that rode the undertones. "We’re almost there. Hold on. Please hold on." Falconpaw was still begging, even after the trek they had gone through.

She stumbled, and Falconpaw nearly goes with her- long limbs shift, pausing until they’re resettled. Pushing into camp was enough to get Falconpaw’s blood rushing, his heart thudding in his ears. Greeneyes was somewhere near him, carrying their fallen leader. Falconpaw couldn't think about that. He was doing everything he could to get Bobbie home alive.

"Someone get Dawnglare. Fireflypaw. Quickly." Falconpaw’s words were raw, cheeks wet with tears. He continued towards the medicine cat den, trying to move through a crowd that was sure to gather. Teeth were grit not in physical pain, but emotional.

"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ ALL AT YOUR PAWS ❞ ​

​

 

[Dogbite]

✦ He staggers to camp alongside Greeneyes carrying the other end of the fallen leader and baring the deadweight. Nothing felt real and all of it seemed too real. They wanted to run away to their den and sleep for as long as his shaking frame would allow. Dutifully as he always had the tabby marched on orders given to bring the fallen leader to his final resting place. Cinnamon and white pelt splattered with the ragdolls drying blood that filled his sensitive nostrils like a miasma. This is how he would remember the tom's last moments cruel and gory with little care for all the good they'd done for so many.

They cannot see most of the faces surely to come around as they pressed through the bramble wall. So meticulously repaired and patched in the fear of a rogue invasion. When the hidden danger had been Sootstar and her lackeys lurking in the depths. Dogbite had no strength to hate or burn with familiar fury akin to bile rising in his throat. All he felt was hollow emptiness as Bobbie's pained grunts played the backdrop of their mood. He was gone and Blazestar was no more. His friend dead and the other traumatized beyond comprehension.

The final gift he could give to the pale tom was to be brought home. Into the place they'd welcomed him so warmly now - felt icy and desolate. Dogbite was beyond the reach of any cat around as his heart thrummed slow and broken.

✦ OOC ✦ INFO

• 
  ———✧———​
  ✧ LH cinnamon tabby w/high white one blue eye
  ✧ child of npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
  ✧ skyclan warrior ; ex-loner ; mentor to littlepaw
  ✧ 31 moons old ; birthday 07/01 ; ages realistically
  ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
  ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
  ✧ "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric
  
  ———✧———​

​

 

[DROWSYNOSE]

STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME​

---

he could throw up if he had anything else in his stomach. he's sure he's already thrown it all up on the way here, and he feels so many emotions. some are even foreign to the usually mellow tom. was it more mellow, or just less angry? yes. that's it. he's hardly ever been angry in his life. scared, sure. sad, a lot. but anger? it fleets quicker than it arrives. he doesn't know what's he is feeling but he feels so much of it its nauseating. and he doesn't know why. who is he mad at? himself? the stars? the cat that caused such injury? blazestar for leaving his mom when she had finally begun to be happy? falconpaw for helping when he insisted he did not need it? dawnglare and fireflypaw for not being here? stars, where were they?!

he can't do anything else. he has to leave it in their paws and that's what hurts the most. he can't do anything. again, he cannot do a single thing to help the cat he loves the most. he stumbles away from her, tears staining familiar paths along his fur. how did he still have any tears left? why was he such a cry baby? he can't stay here. he doesn't wanna see his mama die. he has to leave. he's gotta go. and with that, with her blood caked on him and a whirlwind of emotions, he leaves.

// out !

​

 

[weedpaw]

𓆝 . ° ✦ If there were any such thing that might drive Weedkit into a state of agoraphobia, this might be it. Camp has only just gotten comfortable. The air is still sharp and unforgiving, but the snow has begun to fall and crunch in a way that is pleasant to Weedkit's childish ears. He still does not like the strangers; their odd names and their unfamiliar voices and their barrage of smells. Weedkit still does not enjoy the novel parts of the world despite the best efforts of his family to teach him otherwise.

And well, this is about as novel as it might get for a kit who has not even crested over 3 moons of age yet.

What has been a mostly monotonous day thus far all but explodes as Bobbie and Falconpaw stumble into camp. They are followed shortly by Dogbite and his uncle Greeneyes, carrying Blazestar. Weedkit cranes his tiny body as best as he can, trying to fathom somehow why Blazestar doesn't look quite right. In his innocent curiosity and confusion, the little black tomcat notices the twisted and bloody faces of those who accompany and carry the leader. "I don't... understand," Weedkit manages through his blurry confusion. What was wrong with Blazestar? Why did everyone seem so... There was no word for this that Weedkit knew or understood.

Weedkit feels his coat prickle in a way that he never has before. Tears prick his eyes and he swivels his head around desperately in search of someone. A sibling or his mother and father. 'What is happening?!' he wonders quietly, his face feeling hot and flush. Something is very very wrong here. He doesn't want to look, but his gaze goes back to the center of attention: to Blazestar who is scarily unmoving, and to his uncle Greeneyes in particular who lacks the spark he's always had in every visit to the nursery.

/ parental tags @Dandelionwish + @butterflytuft

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 
  
  

  WEEDKIT — HE/HIM ･ 2 MOONS ･ SKYCLAN KIT ･ PENNED BY CARAT!

  longhaired black tomcat with low white spotting. born 11/9/23 and ages realistically 1 week every Thursday. Follow along with his growth here!

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He feels it before he sees it.

It is no one discernible thing. Nothing that he could point to and say: this is it. Feelings beyond feeling. It is why despite everything he detested about SkyClan, he has considered it his sole dedication now for seasons. Ringing in his ears that could not truly be heard; needles scraping at his skin that could be felt by no one by himself. There are tremors in the earth now— a low, terrifying hum of something wrong. The buzz of misgivings. The discomfort of knowing. Premonition in the earth that thrums its way to his paws. Hardly anyone has ever understood; but someone always had— always did. A shadow would sweep across his trembling form, and She had told him, It’s okay, then. Valentine has kept Her at Her word, ever since.

Blaise had not allowed him that same comfort. He could not be asked to do something as simple as sit with his wounds and tell him that he would live. He had smiled, and then he had cried. Valentine had ached all the more for it. What a horrible friend Blazestar is. What a horrible friend Blazestar had been.

He knows, and he’s known. Sun - dapples of light through his den are bitter upon his face. A singeing that has burning tears beading at his eyes, oblivious to, or perhaps uncaring of the season. Any motivation he had— to cure, to heal, to mend, is dead within him at the shuffle of paws and that blinding sunlight. At last, and inevitably: Defeat.

The battle had begun how many moons ago, now? It was one he’d been destined to lose.

He dredges himself from his den, and it remains as real as it would’ve been had he only turned over in his nest.

" I'm here. "

Was it a reply for Falconpaw, or a wake - up call for his dear friend? One that maybe, maybe, if he curled the syllables around just the right way— snapped his jaws around that phrase just right— would cause him to rise to his paws. " I'm here. " Hissed at the edges. Eyes like knives gaze upon Blazestar as if there was no one else to see. As if he were alive, with the matts in his fur born of battle, but never deadly. With eyes like his own, open and aware.

He is not stupid. He knows that he is dead.

Pitiful, is the visage of the corpse strewn across the warriors’ shoulders. Is he any different than he had been whilst he lived? " P-put him – put him down. " Dawnglare nearly chokes on his own bile. No matter who he spoke to, he would see him. Only him. Soon, Blazestar would be nothing more than another corpse to be strewn in lavender petals. It was meant to be – and it should not have been.

If nothing else changed, SkyClan’s graveyard has grown heavier with the seasons. He had never wanted this. He made himself want this, for him.

" What is the point of me? " the question is desperate, one asked with a heavy step forward. What was there to see without the very sun in the sky? Nothing but shadows; mingling static. He couldn’t look away from the sun - spot that was his face, no matter how bloody, no matter how much it made him sick to his stomach. Because he feared that he would see nothing at all without him burning near. Guide him he did, in the smiles he gave his clanmates; in the names he learnt by heart, that Dawnglare too would learn, if he listened closely enough; and eventually, he had.

" What is the point of her? " His… mate ripped to pieces beside him, taking greedy gulps of air that should’ve been his. What was their love for, if not something for him to stay alive for? How wrong he had been— for it satisfied him none to see her fail. Love was not something to die for. And like all of the rest, it was advice Blazestar surely would’ve ignored, were her still alive. Perhaps for that ignorance, here he lays, dead.

" What am I here for? " Blazestar would not answer, no matter how he strained his voice. He is still as the brambles weaving through their dens. Glassed eyes give him no answers.

And he had thought — he had thought at the very least, if it did happen, he would be there to see the light leave his eyes.

Blazestar's face haunted that of his children. He sees Morningpaw in that dead, blue gaze. Did you take him, dear? And could he be mad for it?

He betrays her word now, when hot tears flow past his cheeks. Never has he been a dignified crier, and today, that would not change.

If Blaise had not met that wild cat— the one with the raven pelt— he would still live. The two of them would perch on low branches of deciduous trees; in pockets of grass and herbs and flower blooms. They would speak long into the day and return to their dens at night without worry of who or what they may lose the next day.

But then— there would be no Fireflypaw. No Howlfire; none of her little ones, just the same. Never, never would he have met his own love, then. For this, save for the sounds of his sobbing, he is silent.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

• 
  
  

• 

• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 60 moons old as of 1.1.24. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[Orangestar]

𝐵𝑈𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐴 𝑊𝑂𝑀𝐴𝑁, 𝐵𝑌 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝑁𝐷 ✧ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀

• 
  
  — orangeblossom | tags
  — she/her ; deputy of skyclan. mentoring springpaw.
  — scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes.
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — chibi by waluigipinball
  — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
  
  

​

"Set him down gently." Orangeblossom instructs Greeneyes and Dogbite in a fractured echo of Dawnglare's demand, her meow still strained with an unfamiliar roughness that she has yet to recognise as shock. Falconpaw leads Bobbie gently towards Dawnglare's den even as familiar muzzles peer out into the clearing; how long would it be until curious stares turn to wails?

She does not scale the gnarled bush to reach Highbranch. That is not her right. Even though Blazestar hasn't moved since they'd found him, hasn't taken a breath or murmured a single word, it isn't right. Instead she stands behind Blazestar, as if the unmoving lump of golden fur curled up in their camp would resurrect himself and she could linger behind him like a shadow. Just as she's done for thirteen moons as his deputy. But, in the absence of a leader through illness or injury - or death - the responsibility falls upon her like a shroud. A web, inescapable.

"Cats of SkyClan, we bear grave news." She begins, gaze threatening to stray. Again, she fails to swallow against the tightness in her throat. If she focuses on the few facts she knows, maybe ... maybe she can get through this. Murmurs are beginning to spring up around her, so she pushes on. "Blazestar has lost his final life, and Bobbie has been injured as well. A WindClanner was found dead next to them both." She doesn't have the energy to extrapolate much beyond that. She has to make sure SkyClan is safe. Once they get through the night, she will think about Bobbie. Question her, just to make sure. She wants to think the best of the lilac queen, but suspicion claws at her like thorns.

"We- we need to prepare him for vigil." Her voice feels like it drops out from underneath her, fracturing like ice. "I ask that able warriors stay up with me tonight to ensure our safety."

​

 

[Howlfire]

Howlfire doesn't realise anything is wrong immediately. She was resting in the warrior's den, an early morning hunting patrol having sapped her energy.

The commotion of returning cats stirs her awake, and she blinks awake in her nest, adjusting to the light. A mottled ear flicks, and she hears someone calling out for Dawnglare and Fireflypaw and notes that someone must have been injured. Slowly she rises to her feet and pads to the entrance of the den. Howlfire barely has time to register what is going on before Orangeblossom's voice catches her attention and she turns her head to see the older she-cat announcing some grave news to the clan. Howlfire frowns slightly, noting that it's unusual to see the deputy addressing the clan on her father's behalf like this before the final words are said.

Blazestar has lost his final life, and Bobbie has been injured as well. A WindClanner was found dead next to them.

She is rigidly still for a brief moment before she finally tears her eyes from Orangeblossom and to the body of her father in camp.

Howlfire doesn't even try to stop the wail that erupts from her mouth, a sorrowful sound that would surely crack even the coldest of hearts.

"No, no, no..." Howlfire's voice trembles as she suddenly rushes forward. There is an urgency to her movements, desperate to get to his side, to touch him one last time. She shoves past clanmates in her desperation, not caring at that moment for their glares and mumbles of disapproval at being jostled.

When she finally reaches him, Howlfire stares at his bloodied body unblinking. It felt unreal to her to see him like this, to see him devoid of the warmth and light that she had known him for. Amongst the waves of sadness, an undercurrent of rage bubbles in her chest, a feeling which is only soothed by the knowledge that the cat who had done this was dead too. It is a good thing too, she thinks. For the rage feels familiar to her, an old friend who had first appeared when Morningpaw had died, and Howlfire had cruelly acted towards Snowpath, wanting him to die in her sister's place.

Howlfire inches closer to Blazestar, trying her best to ignore the injuries and the blood. "Get up, Blazestar," She urges. "Get up!" Her pleas are choked out by sobs wracking her body. Howlfire lowers her head next to one of his large forepaws, bumping her nose against a paw pad, and reminding herself of simpler times. Times when she scarcely stood taller than his leg and his paw would engulf her head when he ruffled it affectionately.

"Don't leave us," She whimpers quietly. She's thinking of herself and her kin at that moment, but also she doesn't want him to leave the clan either, she doesn't want to imagine SkyClan without him. Stars, what will her kits think when they learn he is gone and walks with StarClan? "Don't leave me..."​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

How did a Tom so powerful, so untouchable, so wise and noble, die?

Figfeather feels for a moment as if she’s stepped out of her own body, looking upon the scene from an overhead view. Blazestar’s neck was caked in blood not yet dried, never leaving his still body was… Bobbie? The tabby’s face was barely recognizable through her injuries.

Orangeblossom announces solemnly to the clan that Blazestar has lost his last life. A WindClan cat had done this. Why? Why?! She doesn’t know whether to hiss and shout to storm WindClan’s border or to let out an earth-shattering yowl of sorrow. How was SkyClan’s leader dead?! How?!

It feels like a bad dream, a timeline they were not meant to travel down but got swept up in anyways. Her heart throbs at the cats of SkyClan begin to show their despair for Blazestar’s death in their own unique ways, Dawnglare exclaims desperate questions, Howlfire pleads with her fallen father to rise once more, the kits of the nursery look on with immense confusion and horror.

To Orangeblossom she looks, ”Why would a WindClanner do this? Do you think they had been sent to- intentionally-“ ’Kill Blazestar?’ She cannot choke the words from her throat, but surely he deputy knows what she means to ask.

Figfeather finds it difficult to look at Blazestar’s corpse. How was it that the leader she had followed and respected since kit-hood now lay dead?

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Mentoring Wolfpaw
  » Mate to Fantastream
  » Sire to Sangriakit & Coffeekit
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid to her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[SLATE]

"What?" The Maine Coon's maw draws slightly agape as the news breaks, mangled ears flattening back as he manages to haul himself from his makeshift nest. Blazestar was dead? For good?

For a moment, Slate is rendered speechless. There had been a pawful of deaths over the seasons, causes varying, but none had hit nearly as hard. A sinking feeling grows in his gut, the lead warrior looking on helplessly from the mouth of the medicine den. Blazestar, the only leader he had ever known. The tom who had taken him in on that cold leafbare day, completely changing his life forever. His golden mane was bloody, his massive form dull and lifeless now. Slate's amber gaze cannot look away, as dizzying as the gory sight is. Did he walk with Little Wolf now?

Then, reality begins to settle in. SkyClan is without a leader. Bobbie is wounded. Everyone is frantic and vulnerable. "WindClan's takin' advantage of us at our weakest." Many of their warriors were injured from the string of rogue attacks and ambushes, including him. Slate would not put it past that moor tyrant to hurt SkyClan while they were still recovering; not only did they kill a SkyClanner, but they killed their leader. What if this was only just the beginning? Surely it could not be a coincidence. "They- could attack. Again." What if they were on their way now, seeing as their warrior had not returned?

An uneasy expression rests on Orangeblossom now. Would she be sending out patrols toward the border closest to WindClan's direction? They lived across the river, past RiverClan's territory even, but they had attacked before and they could do so again. Sootstar was ruthless and thirsty for the blood of her enemies.

Slate completely omits any memory of his injuries for a moment, taking a step forth though stumbling and struggling to maintain balance as his wounded shoulder flares up in pain. Shit, what would he be able to do? The lead warrior urged to head out into the pines now and make sure their borders were secure, but he could barely take a step.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

• 

• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[Honeysplash]

There was commotion outside of the medicine den. The cries and words of other cats is what drew them out to begin with. What had happened? Were more cats injured? Must be if there as such howls of sorrow- then they stopped at the entrance of the medicine den. Their mossy green hues watched the gathered group of cats for a long moment as Howlfire cried, Slate looked dumbfounded and there was a tension of sorrow hanging over everyone.

Then her sister spoke up from below the tree branch, and then their eyes went wide with shock. Blazestar- he was dead? That- that couldn’t be? He was so young! He had more lives didnt he? What-she shook her head to dislodge the spiral of thoughts that threatened to consume her. She hung her head slightly as she felt so guilty. Maybe if she had done more, hadn had a broken leg or open chest wounds then there would’ve been more warriors to keep things safe!

Honeysplash felt a few tears roll down her face as she empathized with everyone around her. She was never close to Blazestar but she had respected him and cared for him like she would her own father. She had been given her name by Blazestar, he had been behind her safety when the two legs captured them, and he had been the leader she knew longest. Now- Now that was all different.

The young cream and white cat looked over to her sister, gaze glistened with an unknown emotion and tears. Should she comfort her sister? She looked- so important standing there. Was she now untouchable because she was clan leader now? When was she going to get her lives? Would she ever be able to call her Orangestar? Honeysplash felt the spiral coming over her once more and she had to paw at her face to clear it of tears.

A large part of her wanted to approach Orangeblossom while she stood there talking to the clan about Blazestars’ death. This had to be hard on her too, right? She didnt need to be strong like she thought she did. They though stayed put where they where as they felt like their sister was now indeed untouchable. She didnt need her baby sister trying to pick up the pieces, and that hurt more than she let on.

Honeysplash settled down to sit just inside the medicine den and tried to keep herself from breaking down into tears. ​

"Speech"​

---

living in a world so cold​

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 The longer the sands dripped down the hourglass reciting a final hour, the crueler it became that the warning was in vain. The glass is so translucent, none had seen it for more than a pile of dust. Words of assurance etched into the firm, wooden pillars that held it saying 'there's still time'.... 'there's always time.'

A malicious lie, deceived until the very last grain dropped.

Drawing a baby pink tongue over tender muscles, it was supposed to be another perfectly average day. How much further could they fall, how much worse can things get? Every month is a new challenge of that question and in the relief of fighting back the rogue threat, they'd had the wool pulled over their eyes again with a sincere hope that maybe this moon... things would be different. Maybe all of the bad had been front loaded in the form of fur-bare arms tossing them over their fence. If that was the worst, perhaps things would be okay.

But that smell. How it wafted on every breeze in this damned camp like it were a poltergeist. It stings their noise with its sharp, sour scent and with an equally sharp exhale, it's like knocking bad memories off of table-side shelves to watch the glass shatter on the floor. It smells like them.

It smells like Jaggedstorm.
It smells like Tawnystripe.

And there are others they could name that they know are dead but none so important as to have witnessed last breaths. Someone nearby them says something and the words, though the lips that move look perfectly articulate, come out like jumbled garbage. Did they... say my name? And they stare, dumb-founded at the mouth that tries to reach them. Despite ears so large, it's like they don't hear at all, useless little sound radars that deafen themselves the moment noise might become uncomfortable.

Pine-needle green with a pupil as narrowed to match, they find that nasty smell... find it like they are attached to it through a secret and sinister and avoidably fated bond.

There is a sunbeam shining on the floor...
And a fire under their feet.

"Don't..." they murmur, sight fixed to Orangeblossom with every step that moves towards the little perch that belongs to Blazestar. Each paw-print she leaves in the dirt looks heavier than the last, like she is overcome by heavenly weight for the mantle she's assuming to carry. Despite knowing exactly why that sunbeam does not dance across the camp, even though the spattering of red paints its like the sun itself were bleeding, they think her a liar to say he won't get back up.

But she says it so plainly, like it is a common enough fact that no one should even be surprised. That everyone else should've known this time would be the last and Edenpaw's pelt bristles with such indignant fury that they don't even notice the way their claws sink into chilly earth to cope with the tide. "What do you mean that was NINE? I haven't seen him come back even once and you promised that he had more," this promise doesn't belong to the to-be leader... or even Dawnglare, who is beside himself in a ruddy heap weeping after his lost purpose. "You guys said StarClan gives him extra lives to help us with so where are they? Where's StarClan? Where are the other eight," it demands answers. They command an explanation behind quivering lips.

Swallowing thickly past a throat that threatens to betray them in its tightness, the pin-stripe apprentice stamps a paw alike a kitten in tantrum, "He can't LEAVE me here with you instead! He can't just LEAVE! How'm I supposed to..." They inferno dies to embers suddenly, leaving them to stammer with words unfinished. How am I supposed to recite the warrior code to him now....

And it's such a dumb thing to worry about they almost think to laugh.

What the hell was the point in asking Glimmerpaw for help... and Lupinepaw to tutor them if he wasn't even going to be here to recite it to?

What good was saying SkyClan values friendship if this is all we get for it, they think to go ask. To pull him into his den and implore him for what he meant by that when he'd defended them from Otterpaw's sniping. But a paw raised to go seek him out stops, remembering the ragdoll fur not that far away, still being fussed over by a medicine cat who'd never looked quite so defeated before. The adults move onto conversation about succession, about defense, about WindClan and Edenpaw doesn't even register it outside of the ringing in their ears where they imagine that they're still yelling. That they'd confidently walked over to Blazestar and shoved him and demanded he get up. That he would be liar if he didn't.

But their legs don't move and a swath of tortie fur passes their periphery. And they don't even hesitate any longer to crumble.​

 

[Cherryblossom]

Dawnglare stumbles out of the medicine cat den in a daze. Cherrypaw watches the velvet swing of his tail as he leaves, parting the hazel branches to let in the voices that had summoned him. For a moment, the apprentice doesn’t move from her nest. One ear angles backwards towards the sounds of the other patients, beginning to stir with equal parts curiosity and dread. In the dim, yellow eyes peer at the slivers of light with uncharacteristic cautiousness.

Someone screams like her soul is tearing from her body, but there is no commotion, no mass jump to help her. Cherrypaw silently hauls herself out of the herb-scented nest and limps outside.

Beneath a curtain of blood-scent lays Blazestar. What remains of him, anyway. Something small and heavy plummets through her stomach at the sight of the body. She recoils, cradling her injured limb closer to her chest as though death was something she could contract.

Bobbie is being half-shuffled, half-dragged towards her, towards the medicine cat den, three-fourths of her delicate face matted crimson. Cherrypaw stares at her without inhibition, without turning her head, jaws parted ever so slightly. The lead warrior is a car crash in slow-motion, and she can’t tear her eyes away from the wreck in progress to the one stalled in a pool of red.

Her mother’s voice drags her from the reverie of shock. Orangeblossom is not crying. Cherrypaw doesn’t think she ever was. ”A WindClanner was found dead next to them both.” It’s enough evidence for her to leap to the conclusion the deputy is too noble to say. For the first time in her life, she hears her mother falter, and Cherrypaw is forcibly aware of just where she is standing.

Blazestar is dead. He’s―she feels the lump growing in her throat―he’s really dead. She thought she’d be happy when her mother became leader. It’s what she deserved, after all. But Blazestar didn’t deserve death in return; no, his death in exchange for her leadership had been an abstraction. An errant, silly worry.

Cherrypaw has never known Blazestar the cat, only Blazestar the leader. The giver, the voice, the sun. Because when cats died, they never came back, but the earth rises and rises and rises. She has the audacity to think that maybe, maybe, it was a good thing she had never cared too much, because then she would not be reduced to a screaming, pleading shell of herself like the bodies collapsing atop Blazestar’s.

Edenpaw’s voice is a dissonant chord among the already dissonant grief. Cherrypaw watches her friend, stunned tears frozen in their tracks on her pale cheeks, as they proceed to whine. The black-and-white cat simply gives up and throws a tantrum, of all things, a fox-length away from her and all the pathetic mourners. ”Edenpaw.” She draws close to them in a few, quick strides. ”Shut. Up,” she quietly hisses, so close to their face their whiskers brush.

She watches them as they collapse. Some of her anger ebbs, revealing itself to be guilt. Renewed tears drip past the corners of her lips and pool on her chin. Hesitantly, she tries to run a paw over their back, as Orangeblossom had done for her when Spiderpaw died. As she does, she looks through the hunched, frozen masses for Lupinepaw, Drowsypaw. Even Crowpaw. It had not been her mother, after all.

ooc: telling @edenpaw ?! to shut up and then trying to comfort them​

 

[Johnnyflame]

HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."​

---

It didn't feel real.

Johnnyflame was no fool- he knew well enough that no cat was immortal and that every one of them would eventually go to meet their makers in the stars. But Skyclan had always been more than just the pine trees or the camp or the borders containing it all; it was all the cats who'd been there from the very beginning, the ones whose faces were now synonymous to him with the clan. Blazestar had been one of those cats, and now he was gone. It was like saying that climbing was gone- so outlandish that his brain struggled to understand.

But the evidence was there before them all, the torn, crimson-soaked body of their leader.

Blazestar was dead. And this time, he wasn't coming back.

For once, he was silent.

Golden eyes shifted away from his leader to Bobbie instead, and if she weren't still on her feet and moving than Johnny would have thought her dead too from the amount of blood in her fur nd the blankness in her eyes. With Blazestar gone though, maybe she was. Johnnyflame had never been in love before. He was sure he'd had his infatuations, the start of "could be's" that never really turned into anything, but he didn't know the kind of devotion that came with having a mate. He might never. But he thought if he did, a part of him would die with them when they went.

Grief was heavy in the air as he made his way over to her, carefully leaning against her other side to help Falconpaw take some of her weight. He didn't care about the sting of his own injuries or the blood staining into his pelt. He needed to do something, couldn't just stand there while everyone around him fell apart.

"I'll stay." he offered quickly, gaze meeting Orangeblossoms. He couldn't go back home while all of this was happening and not be driven up a wall from it. His twolegs would understand- they always did.

"And if that Windclanner was sent intentionally, surely their clan knew it a was a suicide mission for whatever cat they sent? Crazy bastards." he growled in response to Figfeather.

It was hard for Johnny to believe that a single cat had slipped all the way over to Skyclan and then masterfully navigated the territory without being caught in order to catch Blazestar when he was vulnerable. But that was apparently exactly what had happened. The question was no longer 'how', but 'was it an organized killing'. Had Windclan sent the cat that killed Skyclans leader, or had they acted on their own?

With a soft sigh he turned and gently brushed his nose against Bobbies head. "Come on, lass, time for you to rest, aye?" he said, trying to gently encourage her forward with Falconpws help.

OOC- Talking with Fig and Ora, also helping Falconpaw support Bobbie!

---

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

His sister's wails of agony rings out in the camp, and Fireflypaw feels the all-too-familiar wave of nausea rise up in his chest- someone has died, but who? Blazestar.. died.. WindClan.. dead.. Bobbie injured.. He catches bits and pieces, and doesn't want to believe it at first. No, no. His father had plenty of lives, he would come back- but then Howlfire wails out 'get up', and there is no gasps or sighs of relief. It is nothing but silence and wailing in the air, of sobs and tears. It is then that Fireflypaw turns from his place beside the hazel bush, abandoning his task to rush over to his sister's side.

"No.. No!" He hiccups softly, the smell of blood and the scent of his father still so present. He wishes he could see his father's face one last time, to see him solid before the stars took him and covered his pelt in stardust. It wasn't like Fireflypaw would never see his father again, he was a good cat- and good cats went to StarClan after Mother claimed their bodies. His tail drapes over his little sister's shoulder, attempting to comfort her in her sobbing. His head swivels to the sobbing Dawnglare, who cries to the body of his friend. They had their issues, surely, but nothing could defeat the two of them together.

He had to be strong. For Howlfire, for SkyClan, for Dawnglare- all of them. He had to keep his head held high so his father's memory could be protected. That was what Blazestar would have wanted from his eldest son. He would cry later in his lonesome, but for now, he would comfort SkyClan when they needed it most.

"Take care of him, ma.. Morningpaw.." He hiccups softly, sniffling back the tears that threatened to fall. He would not crumble in this place, filled with grieving cats. But he would mourn, turning his head up to the sky as if he could see the clouds above. Clear blues would shine with unshed tears, but he would remain in peace and quiet for a moment longer before he would leave his mentor and sister's side to go fetch what was needed. Herbs for the wounded, lavender for the dead.

Lavender for the dead, dead, dead, dead.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 18 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[Dogbite]

✦ Dawnglare's choking rasp is what pulls him from his aimless thoughts and back into their reality. A reality without a leader. One where he wished he wasn't a part of. The Medicine cat's devastation speaks to him, but his legs do not respond. Expression numb and sagging as his pale right cheek appears marred by earlier tears. Orangeblossom's additional croak is enough to kick their body into mechanical movement. Gently, almost reverently, he bends downward and rests Blazestar's upper half against the ground. Dogbite freezes a moment, watching soundlessly as he takes in the leader's battered body. His mind captures it and imprints the terrible visage within him like a nightmare.

Then, they swallow the air around them and turn away. Making it only a few steps off to sit behind Orangeblossom as she takes over the crowd. They had cried their tears, but still, his body shook with wave after wave of grief. More and more of his clanmates cried out and begged for answers, steeping him deeper and deeper into the truth before them. We will have to continue living. His body tensed at the thought, knowing of its truth. Once more, his vision is painted with flies and human waste of his mother's limp frame as he begged her to wake up. For the scruffy tabby, this pain felt just as raw and far more consequential to everyone around.

Word of Windclan and vigils spun about him like a web, and Dogbite doesn't know what to do. His body feels like stones, and his eyelids heavy from the ache of crying. He knew deep down that his sorry state was of no use, but if any cat deserved their time, it was Blazestar. Whether the ghost of the ragdoll would be present or not didn't change this fact for him. Steeling himself, he stood back onto trembling legs but did not turn to face the gathered cats. Instead, his voice came low and hoarse in a lame attempt to answer the Molly's request. "I will stay." He could not walk, run, hunt, or fight in this state, let alone sleep. Dogbite already knew resting would not come easy as it was. For now, he could utilize his uselessness and stand watch over his fallen friend. Even if all of it felt moot.

✦ OOC ✦ INFO

• 
  ———✧———​
  ✧ LH cinnamon tabby w/high white one blue eye
  ✧ child of npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
  ✧ skyclan warrior ; ex-loner ; mentor to littlepaw
  ✧ 31 moons old ; birthday 07/01 ; ages realistically
  ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
  ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
  ✧ "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric
  
  ———✧———​

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The smokey warrior remained quiet, tucking his emotions further into its dusty corner before it could leak—a time would come, but now wasn’t it. He carried onward, watching his apprentice leave with a shuddered sigh, burning molten sliding languidly across the camp, staring at grief-stricken cats, young and old gathered. Damnit. He wanted to laugh at the absurd situation handed to them, but throughout this blasted life, Duskpool remained bittersweet.

Dying now, assuring everyone it hadn’t been his last, listening to Edenpaw and watchin’ Drowsypaw leave the fray. He chuffed, grin bittersweet against a canvas of marred flesh, molten hue glancing upward, staring at the sky with indifference. Finally, ya get to rest, eh, Blazestar? He thought, letting the bitter grin slip off his face. Ain’t gotta worry about Bobbie. She’ll recover, slowly, but he doubted she’d ever be the same after this. He sure as hell hadn’t. She’s got the entire clan to help her. She ain’t alone.

Duskpool hadn’t aided those carrying their clanmates, whom he wasn’t particularly close with, but they’d been a constant, something familiar, old and new. To lose that, well—it wasn’t the first and it ain’t ever gonna be the last. He breathed shakily, rumble raspy within his chest, molten copper staring ahead, body positioned closest to the camp’s entrance, away from everyone. “If it’d been a full-out attack, they would have attacked by now.” He rumbled, molten copper narrowing. “I’ll stay up with the lot of ya.” He directed his words to Orangeblossom. “Either he was workin’ alone, or somethin’ else. It ain’t much to go off till we get the full story, but Bobbie needs attention before she gets any worse.”

For a split second, Duskpool wondered what they’d do about the dead WindClanner. His chest rattled, drawing a low-sounding rumble from within his throat. “We’ll need to do somethin’ about the WindClanner’s body before it attracts anythin’.” A chance to do something than sit and wallow in grief, something he’d done for far too long, paws pickling with the need to help, to fall into bad habits and that was something he wanted to despise, but right now, he was sure a few others wouldn’t disagree. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[LUPINESONG]

❀‿ Lupinepaw enters camp as a shadow behind the rest of the patrol and it's as if she can see the future. The camp erupts into sobbing and whisked-away-children and a flurry of questions and orders. Drowsypaw has left and she wonders if she should run after him. But Falconpaw and Johnnyflame are carrying Bobbie into the medicine den and she cannot bear to lose sight of her, not now. She needs to remember to thank Falconpaw later, she reminds herself once more.

She slips through the pool of mourners surrounding Blazestar and she realizes for the first time that Skyclan as she knew it would not be the same after today, in the most literal sense. Orangeblossom would be their leader soon. Tomorrow? Tonight? How late in the day was it...? Another breath and she realizes that she's been crying this entire time. She would have to compose herself before the vigil, she thought. Another breath and she chided herself on how shallow a thing to worry about at a time like this. They're talking about Windclan and asking questions and she sees blood and viscera smeared all over the forest floor and she presses her ears to her head, feeling sick with dread all over again. She keeps moving.

She needed to make sure she was watching Bobbie. She was still alive and she would recover but.... "Bobbie needs help. Bobbie really needs help," Lupinepaw hears herself say, to whose ears she does not know. She's at the entrance of the medicine den, lingering halfway between. She doesn't know whether she needed to go in and be by her side or to drag someone in to come help her. Breathing becomes harder, air comes in quicker and she's saying, "She's uhm- pregnant. And the-...and the blood. And there's blood. And, uhm..."

She's looking around, completely lost, and finds that she's lingering only a few fox-lengths away from familiar figures, white-black-orange. She's shaky as she pads closer to them, and tears fall more freely when she sees Edenpaw collapsed into Cherrypaw and she meets gold eyes for the first time that day. She's sniffling and she doesn't know how to make everything stop.

"I- Are there uhm- enough nests in uhm- the den? Do we- Do I need to... make one for- for her? I don't... Does she need moss? Should- I- I don't uhm-... know. I don't know what- to do... I don't know..." Her mind was racing but she collected herself tightly, pressing a fluffy tail against her body. She didn't chance going over to touch either of them, even though all she wanted to do was to hide her face into Cherrypaw's shoulder and cry like a kitten. She couldn't. She still didn't know what to do, she couldn't collapse now.

NOBODY YET EVERYTHING ⊹₊°❀‿ A POOL TO SHED YOUR MEMORY

• OOC: Followed Bobbie toward the medicine den, talking with Cherrypaw and Edenpaw
• 
• 
  — lupinekit . lupinepaw
  — trans she/her. 9mo apprentice of skyclan. padding after falconpaw
  — a tall, pretty, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
  — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — icon by antiigone, fullbody by pikaihao and chibi by rae
  — penned by eezy

​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

An uneasy silence flittered across the camp, broken only by the murmurings that chittered erratically like an anxious heartbeat. The tom's partially parted maw remained shaky as Blazestar's body was brought into camp. Bobbie did not cross his thoughts, could not cross his thoughts, not even Orangeblossom's words could break through to the silver warrior. SkyClan's founder, now history; never would he hear the ragdoll's voice again, or find himself disagreeing with him at a council meeting only to worship the very ground he walked on the next day. The cat who had given him his home, who had seen more than just a rogue in him all those moons ago... he blinked and expected the corpse to disappear, instead, it remained, and grief plunged into his heart like a knife for the first time. He couldn't make sense of his thoughts, even when there were so few to begin with - they were numb, and pressing against them did not bring feeling back. He blinked again... and a surprised noise escaped him when his vision faltered. Raising a paw to his eye, the Lead Warrior rubbed it lightly, grimacing at the sodden feel of it. 'Tears can't be all I can offer...' His head sunk low, the blood roaring in his ears making room for some of the conversation. 'Rest... peaceful flame of SkyClan. Your fight is over.'

SkyClan's fight had only just begun. WindClan's name sent fire down his skin and straight to his tail, which lashed and fuelled his bristling fur further. It felt karmic, he had told his home to leave them alone, and they had invaded all the same. His tongue had been venomous since the day he was born, matched only by a fierce temper, yet, a viper only truly struck when something had disturbed it. "A wrong should always be righted..." A glance to Slate, but any attempts to force bitterness into his gaze turned feeble at the sight of Blazestar in the corner of his vision. Death made the leader look small and insignificant, a deceptive pile of cream and flame furs that cooled against the leafbare wind. It was comforting to know that those touched by stars were just like their soldiers in the end, comforting and terrifying, to know that he had outlived a creature with nine lives, a creature who would've had more if he'd been able to do his job as a Lead Warrior. The odd eyes of the tom's narrowed, a hiss of a breath escaping between clenched teeth. "But not even a dozen dead on bloodied moors could even begin to repay the value of what has been taken from us." Ears flattened, Silversmoke turned to Duskpool and Orangeblossom, tension building between furrowed brows.

"I can lead a patrol to take its body back to WindClan." Altruistic purposes abated Silversmoke, yet, the promise of combat was absent from his eyes. "Let their reactions decide how we act next... I won't say he succeeded in his mission..." To do so would be like praising the carrion whose disease downed a bear, he refused to give the moor-rats the satisfaction of believing they were anything more than that.

​