(RTA) Commercial break | Flower hunting

[Swiftclaws]

Pitchstar was dead. He never thought it was possible, that grumpy old man always struck him as the type to be too stubborn to keel over and yet his body has gone cold no longer could he feel his narrowed intimidating gaze anymore. No longer did he have a chance to worm his way into getting a smile from the grim tom, he was gone and he wasn't coming back his lives had run out and now Chilledstep - no Chilledstar had taken his place.

He doesn’t know how long it’d take until things felt normal, not that they’d felt that way for quite some time. He mourns as many of his clanmates do yet he finds he can’t stay long in camp these days, always out and about rather he’s taking Magpiepaw training or running the lengths of the swamp chasing after the croaking of toads or skittering paws of mice. Tonight however he’s not going after prey to fill Shadowclan’s needy bellies. He searches for gifts to lay on a fresh grave, a token of appreciation Pitchstar would never get to see in life.

There’s a faint memory of his mother laying petals at the grave of a long lost brother in the fog of his past. He looks to do the same, and he really wishes now he’d knew exactly what sort of flowers he was searching for. He should’ve asked Starlingheart before he headed out, should’ve made sure he knew what was poisonous and what wasn’t. Nor where exactly they were found in the territory. But he wouldn’t dare disturb her at this time, she had better things to worry about and she needed space. Swiftclaws doubts he’d make for the best company to the young medicine cat, he wouldn’t know what to say so he leaves her undisturbed and goes out on a mission for flowers he isn’t sure where to find.

He doesn’t give up, he just keeping padding along his head ducked as he searches for any flash of color in the mud and grass. ​

( ★ )

 

[smogstar]

Once the body goes cold, so too does Smogmaw's prediliction towards whomever it belonged to. Pitchstar is gone, done and dusted and left to rot. While the departed rosette tabby may have carried significance in life, said significance left this world with him. Others would have you believe he now roams the celestial fields of StarClan. Looking at it through a lens of realism, however, leads you to realise he's likely just driving the rest of them mental up there, what with his paranoia-fueled ramblings and accusations. Good riddance. The tabby certainly won't anguish the loss of those.

It seems that the deputy is alone in his indifference towards the dead. Some mourn, dwelling on past memories of Briar's most irksome child. They celebrate his life as though it's one worth celebrating, and while he disagrees, voicing so would simply be out of line. Thus, he bites his tongue. For the most part, anyhow.

His attention is seized by headlong strides just off yonder. It'd be an exaggeration to call him intrigued, yet seeing how he has nothing else on the go, Smogmaw follows in their trail. Swiftclaws, ever the busybody, infiltrates his peripheral as he trudges onward, and by the looks of it, the fellow was on the prowl for something. Lest his hunting form be this inept, it wasn't prey he was looking for. "Need help finding sum'n?" asks Smogmaw, his expression an untouched surface, free from the heft of emotion.​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

everyone had different opinions about everything. they knew they wouldn't always agree with the way that things happened but sometimes life just fucking sucked. did chilledstar truly want to be leader right now? no. but the stars had begged it to be so. their ears twitched slightly at the sound of walking, and they followed it, looking for something to do. their brows furrowed in confusion. smogmaw speaks up, asking swiftclaws if he needed help looking for something... but what was that something?

"yeah, what are you looking for anyway?"

chilledstar wasn't a mind reader and they sure as hell weren't gonna start trying to be.
​

 

[Ravenwatcher.]

So I walk alone down the darkest roads​

---

Most unfortunate on how Pitchstar had past yet, unlike others so focused on mourning, Ravenwatcher thought to seek out the person who pulled such a crime and put them in their places. She was not close to the fallen leader like many others have been so she could not feel empathy to those who mourn for the tom, yet murdering someone, especially a leader, was not acceptable unless it was a necessary evil due to the ego of some of these leaders. Bored blue eyes looked over at Smogmaw and Swiftclaw as a soft sigh danced from her lips. Blue eyes watching Switfclaw as he was searching for something, Chilledstar even popped up to ask what he was looking for, but Ravenwatcher kept quiet only nodded in agreement to both leader and deputy's question her tail swishing a bit wondering if perhaps it was better spent time on hunting than seeking for something they did not even know what was.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[Magpiepaw]

"Swiftclaws, Swiftclaws, Swiftclaws-" The other older cats were ignored as he wandered forward, pushing past limbs and bumping into sides in his attempts to reach his mentor with his mouth full of clumps of green and leaves, extending out into stems of tiny white flowers clustered together like drifts of snow.
"What about these?" He asks, voice muffled as he holds fast to his prize of blooms, unsure of their names or purposes and hoping they are adequate enough for burial decoration. The appeal of it was very strong for him, he liked the idea of adornments in death, fanciful desecration; to be immortalized even when you had long since left. He was considering many options now, stones, bones, perhaps even carapaces of beetles plentifully found in the two-leg wastes. Maybe even there they could discover treasure to add to the collection. A macrabre display of junk and membrance. Anything to bring joy once more to Starlingheart's face who had hid herself in her den more often than before.
Finally he glances to the others present, at last acknowledging them with a slow bobbing nod and quivering whiskers. The tabby beast would be unwelcomed in this most sacred task, Chilledstar might be alright but the dark one with her false-spots could not be trusted; a prophet of lies and deception, a kit-eater, a fiend. Magpiepaw's tail went straight up as did his nose and he answered for his mentor with an airy tone, "We seek solace in newleaf's gifts."
​

 

[Starlingheart]

New-leaf so far is not the salvation she had been promised. She is not sure what she had expected, for all her problems to clear away like clouds parting to reveal the sun, but her brother's death had only solidified in her mind that the suffering was not only exclusive to one season. Or perhaps it was leaf-bares last hurrah. Either way, she is troubled as she makes her way out of her den and into the territory in one of her ritualistic search for herbs.

She is surprised to come across a patrol this early into her walk, but here they were. She, like some of her other clanmates, is confused on what the warrior seems to be hunting for. She does not know much about hunting or fighting but she does know that Swiftclaw's current stance doesnt look like any hunting crouch she had ever seen. Smogmaw asks if they need help finding something, Chilledstar asks what they are looking for and Ravenwatcher does what she seemed to have been named for. She watches.

It is when Magpiepaw speaks that Starlingheart turns her head, expecting an answer but his simple answer does not satisfy the questions. New-leaf's gifts could mean anything. "M-maybe I could maybe I could help?" she offers her assistance. She is good at finding things, afterall.

​