sacrificial burdens // open

Jun 27, 2022
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Dusk didn't understand why it was so important for him to communicate with others. They carried on just fine without him, he was just fine with watching his two siblings make friends and move on. Because they deserved that happiness, that comfort. He wasn't the right fit for people like that, for people with hope. He was a pessimist, so it was a bit hard for him to understand that things can get better.

He was still reeling over the Great Battle. How could people move on from such an event so quickly, all because a bunch of ghosts told them to?

He squinted exhausted eyes as he watches a worm squirm its way through the mud between his paws, brows furrowed.

"I don't understand these cats.."
 
Briarstar had moved on, albeit begrudglingly, from the events of the Great Battle. In a way, she'd had to, as the leader of the marsh group and now ShadowClan. As a single mother to her late mate's kits. Inside, she was still reeling from the losses they had suffered. She still had a deep-rooted hatred for kittypets that now extended to SkyClan and ThunderClan. She knew that she had to do what she could to move forward, but it was hard when her brain reeled her back into those dark depths of guilt and despair.

She was taking a stroll to stretch her legs when she heard Dusk's comment. Her ears flicked and she turned towards him, watching as he squinted his eyes at a worm burrowing in the mud near his paws. She approached, her pregnant stomach swaying from side to side as she walked. The effort to put one paw in front of the other was unbearable now. The kits would be here any day. "What is it you don't understand?" she asked curiously.
 
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His thoughts are interrupted by a presence he recognizes almost instantly. Their leader, Briarstar. Heavily pregnant, and very obviously having some trouble with walking- let alone holding herself up. His eyes narrow, and there's a glare on his face. Whether he was actually annoyed with her arrival, or that was just his face (usually the latter), one couldn't really tell at times. He shuffles his paws in the mud, feeling it squish and push apart between his toes. Normally, cats would avoid getting all dirty in the mud. Dusk didn't care, and definitely didn't give a damn about how people saw him.

Most of them were liars, anyways.

Her question in response to his own was one of curiosity, and there's a distrustful blink of his eyes when he heard it. The apprentice shifted his gaze away, refusing to look at his leader. Not out of shame, nor disgust- he didn't like making eye contact with people, it made him uncomfortable. He pondered what he should say in response, before he finally speaks; a short, quipped sentence.

"My brother was nearly killed in that battle. And yet, he's expected to move on from that. Because a bunch of.. of dead cats decided it was time to just.. stop." His tone is monotonous, blunt; harsh, yet restrained. He hadn't slept in days, so perhaps the paranoia and mood swings had already started. His judgement impaired- and yet, he seemed to cope with it. Enough to not completely freak out, that is. He takes a second to quickly glance at the woman's belly, jealousy stinging within him. What was it like, having a mother that gave a damn about your wellbeing?

"How can we move on, when we're haunted by the ghosts of the past?" He whispers incredulously to himself, eyes shutting.

// rolled an 8 on his mental state; he's staying passive aggressive yet calm this thread.
 




Dawn ✧ he/they ✧ Marsh Group. ░░░░░░░░░░░░░

It was bittersweet. Sleeping outside, but at least he wasn't alone in the endeavors. Fire stayed with him as did Black, so what more could he ask for? Well, one thing that Dawn always craved and wanted more than anything; his brothers. Having not seen them in what felt like days at this point was enough to drive him made, there was so much to discuss. So much to talk about. Yet Dawn felt like he was alone in this world even with Fire and Black at his sides. They didn't compare to the bond shared between Eventide and Dusk. What they had all gone through before and after joining the group.

So when blue eyes spotted that of Briarstar talking to the blue marbled mink, Dawn perked up his ears and stood up a bit shakily. He had been trying to get himself moving, to keep his chest from feeling stiff, and it seemed to be working thus far. Though his lame leg was more annoying now than ever before. Dawn wished to be able to run once again, to not feel worn down and useless- but his fur prickled at Dusk speaking to Briarstar. Had he done something wrong? Was he being punished for something? Dawn wasn't sure, but he knew he wanted talk to Dusk.

The cinnamon mink tabby moved along the ground at a slow pace, limping more than usual as his body woke up from the nap he had taken. Appraoching their leader and his brother, Dawn would catch the tail end of Dusks' words. Haunted by ghosts of the past. What was he on about? What was the context? Cause it was a valid point, but Dawn wasn't sure if he was being snappy to Briarstar or not. "What do you mean, Dusk?" He spoke up to announce his presence and moved to settle down beside the blue mink with a small head tilt, "I do not think they're of the past when the had just died like minutes before they appeared?"
 


"I'd say they are of the past and they definitely won't let us forget them. Controlling our lives now." The woman has been nearby and she has picked up the conversation. She understands the young feline and his plight but there is not much else that one can do in this situation. Everyone seems to believe in these dead cats and she has gone herself and seen their world for herself. It's magical almost but it doesn't take away from how she feels even now she dislikes the idea of them but there is nothing she can do. Just like how everyone accepts them she has to as well

Her frown is evident enough as she turns and lays her head back down. It is all she has to say really.
 
The warrings of that day had left them all in a strange state, stuck somewhere in between past and present. They were urged to suddenly to come to terms with these things, to accept this new way of living, whatever else was to come along with Briarstar and this supposed healer. There was more to come, he was sure, though whatever that would be remains to be seen.

So many of them held such a pessimistic view, burdened by the travesties of that day, or in the case of said medicine cat, unsatisfied with the role they were given.

He hadn't been there to see what others have, sick and tired of the tension that thundered through all of their lives, disturbing their piece and disrupting their minds. No, he had not been there, but he had family who had been.

"Yer thinkin' about it all wrong," he interjects, pools of moss-green leveling with Dusk's own gaze. "Not a single one'f those souls is tellin' ya you can't be upset, that ya' should suck it up and move on, and I'd sure hope that none of you are repeating that kind of frog-brained rhetoric," he adds, with a glance at Bonejaw.

"Feel what ya' feel, but have the strength to pick yerself up and make things better for those who survived. Stop thinkin' about how yer loved ones coulda' died, and appreciate that they didn't. Not all of us were quite so lucky," the words fall gruff from his maw, bringing with them memories of his grandson. Too young, taken too soon.

"They're steerin' us in another direction, 'cause clearly it didn't go so well when we were makin' our own choices." he finishes. Maybe he wasn't so keen on Briar's sister being designated healer, but the lost souls had a plan didn't they? Perhaps they seek to mellow out the bristled spirit of this one. He can only hope their efforts won't be in vain.
 
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