sensitive topics RUN ALONG NOW & GUILT

cw: death, ptsd symptoms, panic attack symptoms, emetophobia, and a lot of self-hate

Three days. Three days of nightmares and poor sleep, of blood in his mouth and glazed eyes. Sparkspirit is exhausted. He has gone about the camp as a zombie, unresponsive were it not for listless blinking and the terrible leaning of a cat at the edge of collapse. They're asleep now. Cats curled up in the clearing, nests freshly made. His doesn't smell of him anymore. Not his mother, or his siblings. Everything that he had secreted away within it– gone. A new start. Sparkspirit feels horrifically raw. Scrubbed clean, peeled of flesh and fur and history in this new beginning of WindClan. He has always had a problem letting go. He toiled alongside Weaselclaw, once, and asked why they had not cared enough to stay. Didn't they love WindClan? Didn't they love him?

Every single one of those is a coward! He flinches further into his nest. The shadow of Weaselclaw had always been comforting. Someone that he could turn to as his family fractured along with his own heart. Now, in his memory, Sparkspirit knows what is coming. Afraid to die defending WindClan.

Tell me -- are you afraid, too?


The tortoiseshell jolts to his paws. The lethargy of rest and grief give way to jerky strides as he puts distance between himself and camp. He knows he treads on a few tails, or brushes too closely to another's pelt. Normally he would at least offer a muttered apology. Today Sparkspirit just rushes faster. He needs to go. To get away from the place where blood had pooled so shortly ago. Blood that he caused. He did that. Fur plastered to his tongue, their breaths pressing against his teeth. Fading. Gone. He did that. He killed someone. A rogue, yes, an enemy, but someone with wide eyes and a favorite prey and at least someone in this world who cared about them. His heart's hammering out of his chest. Why isn't he bleeding? It should be right there, pouring out where he lifts his paw to feel. Just his heartbeat.

Sparkspirit collapses past the heather wall and retches. There's nothing to throw up but bile, but his stomach continues its desperate heaves until the tom is trembling in every limb and his teeth are clenched to hold the dam before tears and screams both could make their way past.

He's pathetic. Not worthy of WindClan. Weaselclaw had tried so hard, taught him so much, but nothing could cleanse the traitor filth out of his blood. The rogue deserved it. He was just protecting his clan. So why does it feel so awful?
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  • OOC.
  • 🗲  .   ˚ .  SPARKSPIRIT. HE - HIM - HIS. 12 MOON OLD MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. VERY LOYAL TO HIS CLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ————
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    ——  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"
 
  • Crying
Reactions: PINKSHINE
Pink-kit can't sleep. How is she supposed to sleep when she used to be snuggled up in WindClan's nursery with her mom and her siblings, and suddenly had to move to ThunderClan's icky nursery, and then ShadowClan's even ickier nursery, and then right back to WindClan in like a few moons? Her brain doesn't know where she's supposed to be anymore... It's dark so early now, it doesn't even know what time it is anymore, either. Pink-kit lies awake, trying not to grumble too loudly... She peeks out the nursery with an eye.

And she see's Sparkspirit! He's her, um... well, she doesn't know, but they're kin, aren't they? So he won't mind if she goes to see him, and Brightshine won't mind either, because her family will be watching her. And Pink-kit's basically an apprentice already anyways. Maybe she would've already been a warrior by now if dumb rogues hadn't come and ruined everything...

Pink-kit doesn't know what had to happen for her to be let back home. She just knows WindClan won, and now they were back, and Pink-kit didn't have her fun other - clan kit friends anymore, but she guesses that's okay because she still has all her siblings and Featherkit and Rivekit too... Sparkspirit is acting funny, and she doesn't know why. On little paws, she trails after him. Why so sad, sad cat? The question is on the tip of her tongue. Is that what he was? Sad?

And maybe Pink-kit took a few too many steps from WindClan's entrance. It's okay, because Sparkspirit knew her, right? Even though she didn't see him a ton...

And then Pink-kit gasps. She cries, " Sparkspirit is sick! " toward camp, hoping maybe Wolfsong or Cottonpaw would wake up and help him. She thought they got rid of all the Yellowcough...

  •  
  • NOTE: SHE IS A FEVER COAT BABY!
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  • ( I MISS YOU, IT'S MAGIC! ) PINK-KIT KIT OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHKIT, DOWNYKIT, & FINCHKIT.
    —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
    —— CURRENTLY 2 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!​
 
  • Crying
Reactions: revelations



Heavy Snow is not a stranger to death, to grief, he knows what it looks like in its many forms. It is his father saying "I'm okay" but then sobbing at night when he thinks no one can hear him, it is his mother refusing to move from her nest for a moon, refusing food and water because she does not have the strength to walk the world without her mate. He has once lost everything but at the end of the day he had forced himself to pick himself back up and continue on and thank the stars that he had.

His kit, his daughter, calling out that Sparkspirit is sick makes his head turn and mismatched eyes land gently first on the calico figure and then the darker form of his mates kin and his eyes soften. "Go and find your mother Pink-kit, Sparkspirit will be alright" he says, his voice gentle and his fluffy white tail flicking her playfully over the eyes before he approaches the darker furred warrior. He says nothing but he does stand by his shoulder until he is done loosing the contents of his stomach. "You okay?" he asks finally, a knowing look in golden and blue eyes.


 
Innately a creature who favored the night, Snakehiss' stalking sights never miss the happenings of WindClan's camp after sundown. Something about the late hour beckons him like a hare to clover, and so Snakehiss does not miss a beat as Sparkspirit hurries out of the warriors den and past the heather. The warrior does not make it very far at all, retching and heaving as if he had consumed crowfood. However, judging by Sparkspirit's rather grim state since the retaking of their camp, Snakehiss could guess that something that day had shaken him to his core.

Snakehiss was always a tom to offer a snide comment, even when matters were serious. Even the sick and grieving were not exempt from a whip of his tongue, but this time he could not bring himself to say anything. Sparkspirit was many things; a fellow warrior, an enemy, a traitor's kin, a savior, a murderer. Where does he stand with Snakehiss now? Even he does not know. Like it or not, Sparkspirit had saved his life that day, and one would think that a "thank you" would be in order. However, every time his eyes dart toward the tom he sees his crimson-soaked muzzle and his fangs digging into the tender flesh of the rogue's jugular.

That rogue had nearly slit his throat without a second thought. They, along with their friends, were barbaric and lawless creatures who deserved to be wiped clean off the earth for their crimes. However, their body was warm as was their breath against his cheek. They had a name ( probably ) and a story, one that he would never know. Snakehiss' parents had never painted rogues in such a way, instead always opting to reduce them to mindless, bloodthirsty beasts who had no souls.

But wasn't that exactly what they were?

Pinkkit and Heavy Snow are the first to find the collapsed red-splashed cat. As Sparkspirit lay on the ground trembling and suffering atop a puddle of his own bodily fluids, Snakehiss stares from the shadows of camp, dark pupils narrowing. It would not be in his best interest to even contemplate consoling the kin of many traitors, of Sootstar defiers.


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    SNAKEHISS
    —— he/him; warrior ( moor runner ) of windclan
    —— bisexual; single; not looking
    —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles