ROSES INTO THE ABYSS & OMEN

[ cw for prey death and ptsd symptoms ]

Bile doesn't linger when he keeps his paws busy. Motion chases away the flies in his head, and Sparkspirit is good at keeping himself busy. He still chews on his tongue through the moors. A simple hunting patrol meant to fill their prey pile and the time. A low hunter's crouch, stalking closer, his mind anywhere but on the sour-bitter taste of what he had done. The prey is hiding behind tall, scratchy grass– he can't see it, but he smells rabbit. Small pawsteps shuffle; it sounds larger than he had expected it to. Something that should make his stomach growl. He's hungry. All of them are. Now that the journeying cats have returned, there are even more of them in need of care.

He creeps slowly closer. Each slow step is an inevitable crunching upon the grass, not quite hidden by the whispering of the breeze that wafts the tantalizing scent towards him, and yet the rabbit never runs. Closer, and closer still, until he can see dark ears peeking out from the tall grass. They bob with each nibble, and the rabbit shuffles slightly away. A quick two-hop, and Sparkspirit can see the entirety of its pelt. A smooth, unbroken black that leads to a tufted tail and powerful hindlimbs. Facing him. He knows that one kick could wind him– or, worse still, blind him. All that was dangerous was somehow still tempting.

The warrior's pace quickens, a hunting crouch to a trot, and it goes limp beneath his teeth with a squeal. A stirring against his chest. So temporary, fleeting, but he can feel the fur and the memory ignites. Claws at his shoulders, breaths coming terribly hard. Short, long, wheezing, he did that. Swallowing more bile, Sparkspirit shuts his eyes against the memory. His claws dig in. He gingerly picks up his prey, and begins to trek back to the remainder of his patrol.
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  • OOC. :) sparkspirit does Not know the elders' tale of the black rabbit, so if someone could inform him that would be wonderful
  • 🗲  .   ˚ .  SPARKSPIRIT. HE - HIM - HIS. 12 MOON OLD MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. VERY LOYAL TO HIS CLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ————
    sparkchibi.png
    ——  a trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
    ✦ ECHOLIGHT x ELMBREEZE. ADOPTED BY YEWBERRY. BRIGHTFAM, BUT SOMEWHAT ESTRANGED DUE TO HIS LOYALTY TO WINDCLAN. ————————
  • "speech"
 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── Wolfsong has watched the patrol for a short while as he goes about scrounging for herbs, watching them separate to hunt with a small bloom of envy. Herbs are crucial, and the knowledge passed onto him even more so— but when there are no injuries to be tended, no sick to be monitored, it is easy to feel unnecessary. Of course, there is no shortage of wounded or ill after the rogues and yellowcough, but Wolfsong waits for the day when they settle back into place and he watches Sunstride leave without him. Even his kits are now apprentices and will leave camp beside their mentors, training to be warriors.

Would that he could join them, though he supposes he would have no other cat treating their inevitable wounds, save for Cottonpaw.

He is still sending glances toward the patrol, which is why he notices Sparkspirit's odd behavior. The warrior has been...off since the battles against the rogues. Wolfsong knows some are often haunted by such clashes, even when waged for a noble cause. "A dark rabbit," Wolfsong observes, matching the young warrior's stride. "Is that what ruffles your fur, Sparkspirit?"
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
    ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
    ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
    ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
    ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 
Morningsong was not as bothered by death as Sparkspirit. Perhaps if it were a cat he knew, he'd feel something, but those rogues were his enemies and they threatened literally everyone in the forest. It was a kill or be killed situation, and he chose to kill. At least he hadn't been as brutal as some of his clanmates and made sure it was quick. He wonders if he's messed up in the head for not feeling anything, but he always comes back to justifying it with the fact that it was either him or the rogue.

He was glad they were gone. He hopes they learned their lesson.

Prowling near his brother and Wolfsong, he spots the same strange rabbit that they do. An elders tale rings in his mind, of the black rabbit with red eyes that heralds the demise of those who it reveals itself to. He never considered himself superstitious.... But the sight did unnerve him.

So the best thing to do was join his clanmates and be just as unnerving!

"I heard the elders tell a story of a black rabbit with red eyes..." He says quietly. "It only shows itself to those who are soon to die." He adds, a small smile on his face as he eagerly awaits their reactions. "But thats just an elders tale, it probably isnt true." He finishes.

If it was, then.... Guess the three of them are dying soon.​
 
It doesn't escape him, their differences. Of himself and his littermate, Sparkspirit is the one meant for WindClan. Praised by Weaselclaw and Sootstar, a proud warrior who had spent moons trying to shake the weight of his blood so that he might thrive here. Morningsong spoke loudly and frequently and rarely held his tongue; to him, nothing mattered more than himself. Maybe that was unfair. But did anyone truly love WindClan if they did not love Sootstar as well? (Does anyone truly love their family, if they are not willing to fight them for it?) Both of them had done what needed to be done as they retook this place from the rogues. Only one of them seemed bothered by it.

The warrior sniffs. His paw lifts to sweep across his muzzle, freeing the blood from his teeth and replacing it with fur that prickles unpleasantly. Between Morningsong and Wolfsong, he feels– cornered. Witnessed in the worst of ways. The medicine cat's keen eyesight was not just for herbs. Looking at him, his mind shouts a warning siren: he knows he knows he knows he knows. Watering eyes squeezed just long enough to still the storm; he laughs briefly. "Not just a rabbit, but an omen of death?" He hadn't answered the golden-furred tom before, but now Sparkspirit can't withhold a bitter, "Maybe I have every right to be ruffled by that." It wasn't that. He doesn't dare admit it. "What's it mean if you kill it? Is it supposed to save you?"
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  • OOC.
  • 🗲  .   ˚ .  SPARKSPIRIT. HE - HIM - HIS. 12 MOON OLD MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. VERY LOYAL TO HIS CLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ————
    sparkchibi.png
    ——  a trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
    ✦ ECHOLIGHT x ELMBREEZE. ADOPTED BY YEWBERRY. BRIGHTFAM, BUT SOMEWHAT ESTRANGED DUE TO HIS LOYALTY TO WINDCLAN. ————————
  • "speech"
 
Voices from just aboveground draw the attention of the tunneler, and she flicks her tail twice to get her apprentice’s attention before stepping into the sunlight. Pinkpaw is certainly a pawful, an unruly apprentice and a half, but Scorchstreak is not one to back down from a challenge. She will make a fine tunneler of the girl yet. But each and every tunneler should also be familiar with their moor running counterparts, and so Scorchstreak does not shy away from greeting patrols when they pass by aboveground. She catches sight of the rabbit in Sparkspirit’s grip, and lines up the prey with Morningsong’s warning. It only shows itself to those who are soon to die.

"If you believe everything the elders say, we’ll soon see you eating carrion for good luck." She tosses her head, disapproval clear on her features. Which WindClanner has been telling such tales, and why are fully-grown warriors spreading it around? It’s clearly just a superstition borne of an elder’s boredom—unlike Thorn Claws, who existed as a warning to keep kits somewhat behaved. That Morningsong even thinks it’s worth bringing up is proof enough of how gullible the young warrior is. "I’ve never seen a fully-black rabbit before, though. Strange." She wonders what other colors of rabbit may exist—and what they taste like. Are there snow-white rabbits that taste of fish, green rabbits that smell of herbs? What will this dark rabbit taste like? She’s curious, leaning forward to get a better look at the prey.

// apprentice tag @PINKPAW
[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]
 

Between being back home and the journey cats' return, they need all the prey they can get right now. Sparrowpaw is lucky to have caught a mouse before the conversation had arisen, or else she thinks the noise might've quelled any chance of her catching anything. The brown tabby arrives back to the patrol with the catch held between her jaws, and it is nothing in comparison to what Sparkspirit returns with, but still, she thinks every bit counts.

The rabbit the warrior carries is strange-looking, she'll admit. With fur as dark as night, she'd never seen anything like it. Sparrowpaw doesn't move to comment on it, though, opting to listen to the talk it sparks instead — a recollection of an elder's tale from Morningsong, one that holds the fate of death in its short explanation. Amber gaze blinks at that, uncertainty creeping up her form. It's not a tale she'd ever heard, but it's unsettling all the same, whether it holds truth or not.

"And if it's placed on the fresh-kill pile, where everyone can see it..." she asks, gaze shifting to look at Morningsong as her paws shift beneath her "Does that mean we all die?" Probably not — still, she wonders if the elders had come up with an answer to such questioning to their fables, if some inquisitive kit had asked about it in prior retellings.
 
Pinkpaw glances up—or at least, she thinks she's looking up, but the tunnels are so dark, who's to say she isn't actually sideways, or upside - down right now? Point is, there's muffled mewing overhead, and Pinkpaw strains her ears so she can try and eavesdrop. She can't really understand what anyone is saying, but it's way more interesting than crawling in dirt! Her whiskers twitch at the flick of her so - called " mentor "'s tail. Even if she couldn't see her, Pinkpaw kinda new she was flicking her tail, still, somehow... Was being in the dirt giving her superpowers?

She follows her onwards, and it's weird, going form pitch - black muffled voices to oh! The sun is out, and lots of her friends are here! " Hi Sparkspirit! Hi Morningsong! Hi Wolfsong! " Wait, are Morningsong and Wolfsong related? " Um, why're you... Wait, who's dying? " she asks, the conversation catching up to her. She glances to the spooky, black rabbit. Woah, it's like, the coolest rabbit ever... An omen, this rabbit... Scorchstreak doesn't seem to believe it, but maybe just in case... " Maybe if everyone eats it with their eyes closed, it'll be fine! "
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  • EZIRq0S.png
  • ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
    —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
    —— CURRENTLY 3 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH

    A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with yellow eyes, ringed blue around her pupils (sectoral heterochromia). While you can clearly see her flame markings on her face, the rest of her body is currently covered by a grey fever - coating. Though the whites of her are still very much visible. Pink-kit bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
    HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pink-kit is a very irrational and childish character!​