development QUARANTINED IN A BAD DREAM [ stepping down ]

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) willowroot is tired. she's tried to find other ways to describe it, but tired is exactly the word she feels. tired, exhausted, fatigued... any synonym and the feeling stays the same. since riverclan's formation, she has spent countless hours fighting and plotting and planning to create a future in which her clanmates, her family, will live happily. it is for them that she stays, for them that she works until she can pass out in her nest at the end of the day. it's been for ashpaw, for mosspaw, hazepaw, poolpaw, antlerpaw... for poppysplash and buckgait, even smokethroat, cindershade and snakeblink, her fellow leads. she does it all so they can sleep soundly, so they do not have to fear the crashing waves of life as they rush past.

yet, despite anything she's done, the storm-strewn sea finds a way to push her lifeboat under. for the past few moons, she's felt as though she's been clinging to a log in the middle of an endless sea, buffeted this way and that depending on the tide. each clan leader controls the wind with which she is pushed, and their words whistle around her until she has to cover her ears with her paws and cower away. it is only then that she has respite - only when she sits with her loved ones and is reminded why she works. stars, she doesn't know if she can do it anymore.

willowroot is no stranger to loss, and hadn't been even before she joined the clan. still, living in riverclan these past moons has had her seen more grief than she's ever felt in the rest of her life. tens of lives lost, on this side of the border and others, all for scraps over territory. at the end of the day, they're all just cats, splashing about at the will of the tide. it's exhausting. she thinks she's had enough.

slender paws crunch softly on the pebble strewn beach as willowroot makes her way up from the river, back toward camp. in her jaws, she clutches a stone, mottled with gray, blue and white. eyes of verdant fern scan the bustling clearing, seeking one pelt in particular, the one that matches the stone. cicadastar sits beside his den, the remnants of a fish abandoned next to him as he grooms his pelt. she easily spots him, goliath that he is, and her eyes brighten, even though nerves churn in her stomach. padding over, the smoke offers the tom a nod in greeting, setting the stone down. "cicadastar, might i speak with you a moment?" she asks, tail twitching behind her. as the tom permits, she will move slightly closer, before seating herself beside him. thornsharp claws clutch at the dirt below her as she begins. "i've been meaning to talk to you for a bit now. honestly ever since my kits were a few moons old, actually. uhm," and it's here that she realizes she is completely unprepared for this moment.

perhaps they should ease the blow before... they bat gently at the stone they've dug from the beach, setting it in front of the tomcat. "i found this, and it reminded me of you. er- your pelt." it's not a big deal, willow, plenty of cats do it. "i thought it could be a nice reminder of our time working together. that is, because, i feel as though i have been quite absent from your advisor team, and i am hoping you will do me the honor of allowing me to step down." yeah, not the most graceful exit. "you deserve a team supporting you who can be there one hundred percent. since i had my kits and with ashpaw gone, i-" they look away, eyes fixing on a tuft of grass not far from them. "i do not think i am an asset to your team anymore. i will continue to serve faithfully as one of your warriors, but the way i let down the clan with ashpaw's disappearance, and with how absent i've been, i don't know if i am worthy anymore."

they've said it, said all of their piece, but it feels odd, stilted. grinding their jaw for a moment, the warrior raises their head to peer into icy depths. "it has been an honor serving as one of your lead warriors. smokethroat, cindershade and snakeblink will serve well without me."

// feel free to have your character overhear, or speculate. no need to wait for @CICADASTAR .
heya folks, it comes time for willow to step down, methinks. with irl stuff, school, etc, i haven't had a lot of time for catsite, and i don't want to leave y'all hanging with an absent semi-hp. so, willow takes her leave, off to be a normal warrior. thank you for the opportunity to serve this role! i'll always appreciate it!! special shout out to the hp team, who are wonderful angels who make anyone feel welcome. and don't you worry, i'll be around for a while yet. ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[CICADASTAR]

wind whips violently through the willows above, casting the mottled feline in dappled hues of smog grey reflecting from the murky skies. the taste of fish is still singing on his tongue, strong and healthy with newleaf and yet — yet — sharp toes flex idly as a blushing tongue comes to swipe lazily about his dark maw. the corpse of what once was a trout lie ravaged aside an knotched elbow and a paw extends its arching talons, a claw tip tailing along the ribbed edges of the fish’s discarded bones, feels the tick - tick - tick of it reverberate up his wrist. splayed as it was, gnawed and ripped alive as it had been, he can nearly relate — the way it’s heart split and severed to its innards for all to see. misery stirs within him, tempestuous, and all could see.

the lead’s approach was met with a swivel of a tall ear, icy eyes flitting up briefly from the remains, letting a tired smile dance onto dark lips, ” willowroot. of course, sit — sit, “ a long, billowing tails sweeps aside as if to motion the feline forward, and they take it. they settle aside him, and for a brief moment, the leader is grateful for it ; but they present a stone. a beautiful, gleaming thing — and he reaches to touch it almost instinctively. the same unsheathed claws that had dragged slow up those brittle ribs, minutely tinged with river water diluted pink - crimson, grazes the pale, smooth underside of the trinket. thunderous, a clash of smoke and alabaster, but something holds him back. something, something niggling at the back of his skull and it’s almost suspicion. a rapid, growing desperation for the warrior to either spit it out or shut their mouth, just so he could keep his head low enough to ignore it. willowroot — they’d always been by his side. always. from the moment they’d stepped along his borders to plead for boarpaw’s safety, to the moment he’d apppointed ashpaw to her charge. when he and their pseudo sibling had clashed, she hadn’t stepped to him despite it, and so — what now?

what was this? another testament, another failure, another gut - wrenching betrayal to strike him across the face and make a mockery of his image? another failure to announce before the clans, before the stars? another admittance, another blunder to squash before the eye of his clan. but she does not move to follow in buckgait’s pawsteps.. instead, they continue.

it could be a nice reminder of our time together.

" a reminder? " he speaks, almost as if teeth could not cage the words before they left his maw. but they continue despite his interruption, and with each word, salt blue luminaries seem to cast further away. their kits were growing up, but they were still their kits — but ashpaw. his ears snap downward at the mere mention, slicking close to the slope of his skull. ashpaw. she’d disappeared for longer than he can count the sunrises now, no sight or scent of her, and the thought pains him. memory of her scorching fur leaves scald marks behind his eyes and he lifts, pushing from his elbows to stand to full height, ” fine. “ less warm, standing jagged and wide - eyed, ” i hereby relieve you from your duties among my council. you’ll report to my leads for patrol alongside everyone else. “ abandonment. why did it feel like abandonment? he thinks of beesong and tightens his jaw, and moves to walk away without much else to say — but not before leaning down to retrieve the mottled pebble, ever aware of how it feels between time - stained teeth.

˗ˏˋ 𓆩  OOC ✟ VISUAL 𓆪 ´ˎ˗

• i. outie already, he's pouting but I LOVE YOU LAVS !!! i’m holding willow to my chest so tight, you guys were absolutely amazing to have on the team since the beginning and will be so so missed. they should also have a thread after this eventually bc he’s being an unreasonable baby
  
• ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⠀ CICADASTAR⠀⠀−−−c−−−⠀⠀king of the rivers.
  
  
  m. he / him. black smoke & tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt - blue eyes. a handsome, looming tom bearing patchwork black - silver curls that fall over his slim figure in loose, shining rivulets, broken with white and glossy from his fish diet. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unusually tall amongst his peers, and holds himself with a tragic grace, poised and prim and ever - aware of how he is being perceived.
  
  ᨒ gay, mated to smokethroat. smells like wet stone & moss.
  ᨒ speaks with a german accent. 43 moons, ages every 50 posts.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• "speech"
  

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[iciclefang]

For as long as Iciclefang can remember, Willowroot has served on Cicadastar’s council. She’s heard the talk—it’d be impossible not to—of how she and perpetually-angry Buckgait had fought against RiverClan’s formation, had wanted the entirety of the riverlands for their tiny colony. Willowroot had found the logic in joining the Clan and serving StarClan, but Buckgait never had—not truly. Willowroot had been given Ashpaw to train, and Iciclefang remembers the ceremony well, because it was also her own, touching noses with Smokethroat and looking up at him with unimpressed pale eyes.

Willowroot’s admission to Cicadastar—that she’s unable to serve him any longer as a lead warrior—causes Iciclefang to stare. Perhaps this had started as a private conversation, but the leader’s reaction is enough for her to angle both ears, eavesdropping.

Ashpaw’s disappearance. Is that the catalyst for this? Iciclefang’s eyes grow colder. She remembers the way Willowroot had keened at the news of Ashpaw’s disappearance, as though she’d lost a kit. How could she use Ashpaw as a reason to stop serving? The tortoiseshell clenches her jaw, but she says nothing—not to Willowroot, anyway.

I would die serving my Clan. Nothing could make me step down—nothing. She had lost Ashpaw, too—she had lost the girl she loves—but she is not made of the weak stuff Willowroot is. She is ice, she is steel, she is claw and fang. She watches Cicadastar denounce her flatly, clearly agitated by their decision, and she murmurs under her breath: “Ashpaw wouldn’t have asked you to do this.”

// ic opinions i promise LMAO she’s in her awful arc. you were an awesome lead and willow is amazing <3
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[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) he reacts exactly as she has expected, and willowroot has no ill will towards him for it. she is betraying him in her actions, she knows this as she sees the cold light in his crystalline optics. he accepts it without argument, but disappointment twinges his tone. she will dip her head, watching him rise and pad away with the knowledge that he will most likely never trust her again. at least he takes the rock, clutches it hard between pearly fangs before disappearing. at least he doesn't scream. part of her wonders if screaming would've felt better than whatever this is.

still, it's over now. there's nothing she can do. she's finished what she has come here for, finished her sworn duty. how she wishes she could've served until death. there is too much grief in her heart to support that, though. cicadastar will come around. one day, the bloodthirsty leader will see she has made the right choice. willowroot turns from the scene, tail trailing low behind her as she processes silently. the mutter from a fellow warrior greets tufted ears, and she will stop but a moment. "i am not doing it for her," she tells the young warrior, fixing a green glare on the mottled femme. "but i know."

i miss her. i know you do too. it's unsaid, perhaps never to be addressed. all she will do is blink at iciclefang and brush past. slender paws carry the former lead warrior across camp and back through the reeds. she disappears towards the shore with a flick of her tail.

// out ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

This particular storm has been building for some time. Snakeblink can feel the tension in the air, an accumulation of everything that has happened these past few moons. Willowroot has lost too much, lately, had so much to deal with — they all have, of course, but having kits and losing a daughter-figure has taken its toll on her in a way that she clearly struggles to bear.

So her stepping down doesn’t surprise him. Still, it stings.

It is, perhaps, a little bit of jealousy: that she could put the burden down so easily while the rest of them must continue to shoulder it. That he has to bear the terrible weight while she walks away. Mostly it is fear: of the four of them — three, now — Willowroot is the one he is most similar to, in some ways, and he thinks… If this proved too much for them, how long do I have? He would rather let his bones be grinded to dust by the pressure than ever step down; he cannot imagine the kind of events that would lead him to willingly giving up both the responsibilities and honor of a lead warrior position.

He finds this train of thought etched on Iciclefang’s face, the young warrior’s intense eyes boring into Willowroot as she mutters words about Ashpaw. Willowroot leaves quietly, and Snakeblink murmurs ”Thank you for your work,” as they pass by before turning to the tortoiseshell molly.

”And is this how she would have wanted you to ask?” he asks her, aiming for neutral, off-handed, and landing much closer to critical than intended.
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——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 42 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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[iciclefang]

Willowroot’s response is pointed. “I’m not doing it for her,” the smoke growls in her direction. “But I know.” Iciclefang only watches them leave, dark fur disappearing amongst the reeds. She does not reply.

In fact, she likely would have left herself if Snakeblink hadn’t snapped at her. The tortoiseshell’s pale eyes flick to the lead warrior’s green, and although her expression does not change, her voice is flintlike when she speaks. “I hardly see how that matters, Snakeblink.” She wants to say more, but she can’t. She can’t be that outright insolent to a superior, especially in front of Cicadastar.

Her frosty glare shifts away, and Iciclefang pads silently in the direction Willowroot had.

// out :)
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[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​