SET THE SCENE ☀︎ RETURN

[dimmingsun]

Three left; two returns.

Each step bringing Dimmingsun closer to camp solidifies reality further. He had thought there was a chance this was all just a bad dream and he would soon flinch awake, warming rays of the sun painting his pelt more gold. Such salvation does not come. He remains on this march to the death, only vaguely aware of Slateheart still following somewhere more back.

He knows curious and suspicious gazes alike will graze his form. Knows he will have to talk even when it feels impossible to; his Clan deserves all the details, all the mistakes committed today.

Perhaps Sunstar will strike him dead where he stands... or if he won't, then Scorchstreak will.

Anger blooms still, somewhere tucked deep within his belly. He just wanted to support Bluepool. He saw sense in her idea. This was supposed to be a point of triumph — all three of them coming home with plenty of prey and no reason for fear.

Instead he stands with dirt and dried blood stuck in his fur.

"Sunstar," he rasps, voice unusually low and cracked at the edges. "I need to talk to Sunstar."
​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

The smell of blood filled the camp's air, the chartreuse eyes of the calculating tom falling onto the entrance, where two disheveled cats stumbled on through. He did not stir from his sun-stealing spot for a time, though curious ears still pricked in Dimmingsun's direction, wanting to know why he looked awful without making it explicitly clear. The Lead Warrior called for Sunstar and the Tunneler tilted his head, jowls taut the longer he considered the predicament. 'He... he wasn't patrol leader.' Something heavy falls upon his gut, an instinct that told him something tragic had happened to his aunt - so why did his heart suddenly feel as light as a feather? Kin had been vanquished, not a great evil, but for one who saw Bluepool as a traitor to the former, it was difficult not to conceptualise her as the latter. But, she could have been redeemed, she could have been Sootstar's successor... so, why did she no longer stand with Slateheart and Dimmingsun? Conflict strained his throat as he stared the two down with wide, chartreuse yes, claws unsheathed as if they, like Sunstar's and Scorchstreak's, threatened to stain the pelts of the failures before him.

He moved closer, good grace hidden behind the smiling sneer of a cornered animal. 'I want her dead, I want her alive. I want her punished for her insulting me, I want her to live long enough to see what I will become. I hate her... but something akin to loss sits in my stomach.' Confusion filled his tense limbs and broken facade more than grief that the Lead Warrior seemingly hadn't come home. "Whatever you have done can be shared with the clan. Where is my aunt? Where is Bluepool?"


​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

A yellow glare had been trained diligently on the camp's threshold since that hunting patrol had left, whenever Featherspine had been left with a spare moment. Despite deftly-honed talent, he'd had no luck hunting... and part of him very much did not want his own mentor to show him up. With a patrol of loyal, long-instated warriors, however... it seemed likely they would not return empty-pawed, as Dimmingsun had promised.

Probability was cruel, though. Featherspine could not have imagined that not only would they return with nothing to show, but in fact with something missing. Someone missing.

For once, Sootspot's words did not make him want to dig his tongue out of his throat- Featherspine's stomach plummeted, and she found herself aligned with the mad leader's son, demanding to know where Bluepool was. Anger and fear froze daggers in Featherspine's golden glare. Rime crawled through her blood, slowing her movements, making her breath cryogenic as it creaked out of her. "You haven't even caught anything," Featherspine spat, her voice low and poisoned with disdain.

Within, she begged for good news. In the tremble of slitted pupils as she glanced between Slateheart and Dimmingsun, she wanted to be told that Bluepool was a few paces behind- that they had failed to bring a meal home because of something survivable, something... something Bluepool could explain well.

Deeper within, he knew that wasn't the case. ​

✦ penned by pin​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ Alongside Sootspot and Featherspine the deputy appears, golden eyes darkened with suspicion. Dimmingsun leads Slateheart back to camp from their hunting patrol, and he asks to speak to Sunstar. Sunstar first, as though the newly-named lead warrior hasn’t just returned to camp without her mate in tow. But Sootspot for once says something that she agrees with wholeheartedly. These two can tell the entire clan of what they’ve done, what terrible thing must supposedly be told to Sunstar before anyone else. A snarl threatens to lift her lips, to bare pearled fangs. Featherspine makes an observation—they haven’t returned with anything. They have merely returned missing a third of their patrol, a cat whose life is worth more than both theirs put together. "Where is she." Her voice is low, gravelly. It is not a question—it is a demand. And… deep down, it is a plea.

”I promise I'll be home… I love you.”

Bluepool had meant it. She has never broken a promise to Scorchstreak before, has she? She wouldn’t just disappear. She wouldn’t leave. But if that were the case, then where is she? Why hasn’t she returned with the two warriors she took with her? It was a simple hunting patrol, wasn’t it? So why do Dimmingsun and Slateheart smell of blood? Had they been attacked, ambushed by an enemy out on the moors? No explanation comes complete with an answer, nothing explains why her beloved isn’t with them.

☽♰☾ IT WAS WAR, IT WASN’T FAIR

• ooc: —
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[slateheart]

The walk to camp is silent after his brief blow-up at Dimmingsun. Slateheart's head hangs up until they breach the gorse wall - even then, as he raises his head slightly to try and mask the aura of terrible news, he cannot meet anyone's eyes.

Slateheart is relieved at the prospect of speaking to Sunstar first; letting someone else announce the tragedy they had born witness to. But, of course, it's never quite that easy, is it? Sootspot's demands come first, calling for them to speak in front of everyone. If not for the kin that he had lost, Slateheart would have spat in his face to mind his place in the Clan's hierarchy - Dimmingsun's request should be respected. Instead, the blue warrior's words reach him like a smack to his face, making him flinch. He deserves to know, doesn't he?

After Featherspine, there is Scorchstreak. A burning face of black and orange that stained his mind ever since he watched Bluepool tumble over the gorge. The scene plays out exactly as he imagined; her face, questioning and angry, pleading for information. The eyes of all three search for a cat behind them that is not there, not more than in spirit. Slateheart closes his eyes.


It is not the first time he had broken the news of death to someone who needed to hear. Slateheart remembers the fight between Sootstar and Sunstride, with each ones' warriors in tow. He remembers his father's eyes, Lynxtooth, bearing into him with a contempt he had never seen before. Slateheart had broken the news to his littermate that night, the night they arrived in Horseplace for temporary shelter. Forgive me. Lynxtooth is dead, he had said to Gravelsnap, as relieved tears well out of his eyes. I killed him.

It was not the first time he had broken the news of a death, to someone dear to the cat whose death he was responsible for. Not the first time he had seen confusion, loss and plea written on their face - nor the first time he had heard their demands for closure, for justice, for vengeance. Slateheart had done it all before.. this should be easy.

But this time, it is not his oppressor's body crumbling underneath his paws. It is not his estranged littermate, who would feel some semblance of relief in the moons to come. It is Bluepool - an aunt, a mentor, a mate. The news will not come easily.


Slateheart opens his eyes, and with them, his maw parts for a cracking voice to finally speak. "You're right. This shouldn't wait for Sunstar." He means to address Featherspine first, and glances towards the new warrior uncomfortably. "We could not bring what he caught. RiverClan.. caught us before we could leave."

Slateheart breaths in deep, holds it for a second, and lets it out in a shaky sigh. What does Bluepool think of him, the coward that he is, from StarClan above? Had she heard his mind, begging to run away - had she seen him fight with Dimmingsun, desperate to absolve himself of the blame he had carried? Was she seeing his reluctant change of heart now? "We went into RiverClan to hunt." We. The blood is on his paws, now. He did not hide that fact in the face of Lynxtooth's death - he cannot hide it now. Hiding was not the honor he was named for. "Their patrol caught us, and we fought. Bluepool had one pinned - she.. she could have killed her, but.."

His eyes close shut again, as if in doing so, the weight of his words will not reach him. He will not watch the horror on their faces. He will not hear the accusations, the insults, the cries for justice. "Another warrior caught her off guard and knocked her away. Bluepool fell into the gorge. She was.. she was murdered." I'm sorry.
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• 

  slate slatepaw slatetooth SLATEHEART
  ━━ MOOR-RUNNER WARRIOR of WINDCLAN
  ━━ 23 MOONS,, ages every 6th
  ━━ LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE xx SILVERFOOT
  ━━ SIBLING to GRAVELSNAP and ASHPAW
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to BEEPAW | MENTORED by LYNXTOOTH​
  ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♡ | generally healthy, but experiencing shortness of breath.
  
• 
  
  
• speech is #bbbb88​

 

[PINKSHINE]

Good things rarely ever followed up when someone says, I need Sunstar.

Pinkpaw thinks, when she's a warrior, she's gonna come into camp and ask for Sunstar... so she can tell him the flowers look really pretty today, or the sky is pretty, or there's a cloud that kinda looks like a rabbit, just so cats don't always gotta be spooked, when Sunstar's wanted. She's spooked right now.

She saw Bluepool and Scorchstreak in love just today, so where was she? Things aren't good when Sootspot has a point, she thinks. Her expression dips, but there were too many frowns around already... she couldn't be another one. Blue - ringed eyes questioning, what happened? go to Dimmingsun and Slateheart both. Scorchstreak's eyes seem angrier, but it's the same sort of look, she thinks.

Slateheart speaks first. There was... a fight in RiverClan. Cats died in fights sometimes, she was old enough to know that now... Maybe the worst part was how it happened. Even if they asked RiverClan really nicely... they could never even bury Bluepool.

There's a sniff, and a teary gaze threatening her eyes, but looking between Scorchstreak and Featherpaw both... She can't cry. They don't smile enough already - what would happen if she stopped smiling, too? It's wobbly and unconvincing... but it's a smile. " I'm gunna get S-Sunstar, " she mews, lowering her head. Even if they couldn't bury her with everyone else... I'll remember you, Bluepool. She allows herself one last sniff before going to find Sunstar.

// OOC: went to get @SUNSTAR​

 

[SUNNVAR]

He had nearly snapped at Pinkpaw upon her search for him. Undeserved, he knows — doubly so when he turns his head, lip curled in irritation, to see tear-soaked eyes, and her smile is terribly wavering. "Where?" is all that he asks, and is promptly shepherded. He has learned how to navigate this world well enough on three paws that he is quick, and certain in his pace. It nears a hopping lope at times, and does not settle until the gathered group is within his sights. He counts heads, instinctively, his expression cracking to wide-eyed worry. He had seen three of them leave together, on a patrol to go hunt. Bluepool had not offered more, and he had not demanded it. Now there was more to this. A story he cannot fully parse.

Slateheart's explanation had come too late, or far too soon, for Sunstar does not hear it. The air has fallen tense and silent in the moment that he arrives. As if none of them can quite tear their gazes to him. He croaks, breathy, "Bluepool?" It was a terrible thing. He thinks of Tigerfrost, and Weaselclaw. Lead warriors alongside him he had thought to be invincible. Vulturemask himself laid across his back, body dripping sluggish blood. They had died, yes, and terribly — but they had been mourned. At least there had been bodies to bury. Here she is missing. For a moment at least WindClan can pretend she is late. She defected. Joined the traitors that edge around their territory once more. Even her betrayal is better than her death.

Grief and rage pool into one. He would sink his fangs into burning flesh if it meant lessening the pressure he can feel building within his chest. Behind his eyes. Sunstar does not cry, or wail, but the stone-faced exhaustion he wears has cracked beyond repair. And behind that, there is only pain.

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) 〚 06.03 〛 🟒ᨒ

• ooc: —
• ↟ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆  ⋆̶̬́̀
  ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.
  
  
  
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.

• "speech"

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── And so the fire has stolen from them once again. It may not have been the flames that swallowed Bearflight, but their lingering shadow licked at Bluepool's heels all the same— at all of their heels, facing a limping supply of freshkill when there should be rabbits bounding into the pile. But Bluepool has died for it, and yet again Wolfsong must contend with a life lost that could have been saved had he spoken earnestly with Sunstar.

Scorchstreak has lost her mate, Cottonpaw and her siblings an aunt, and more may follow if RiverClan elects to chase a greater violence. They have taken more than WindClan would have if they'd returned with what meager supply of fish they snared. A warrior's life for the briefest touch of a river's bounty, and it is—

He closes his eye tightly. When it opens, his gaze lingers on Sunstar, the tension in his taller silhouette so palpable it is a bird's bone between Wolfsong's teeth, easily broken. He does not know that his comfort would be welcome. It was not welcome when their son died; he hardly sees that changing now. So he approaches Slateheart instead. Scorchstreak he could not reach, he knows, and he cannot speak to such a loss of a mate. Perhaps...if Rattleheart has a moment away from her kits, Scorchstreak can find solace with him.

Wolfsong considers all of this and rests a paw on Slateheart's shoulder, with a glance for Dimmingsun, for his daughter nearby. His mentor. "Do not hold yourself responsible for Bluepool's death. She put WindClan first, as she always has, and she will—" He swallows. "She will guide us from StarClan." Wolfsong leaves the warrior then to approach his son, pressing his nose into her cheek.

His inhale is ragged, keenly aware of the suffering that rises like thick, strangling heat off of the Thunderpath in the afternoon sun.
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 42 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ 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 and his own pregnancy, 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.

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ Slateheart steps up to speak in place of Dimmingsun, and his news twists into her gut like claws—she wishes it was his claws. She would take any physical wound over the terrible things that the tom is telling her. Sunstar’s and Wolfsong’s voices buzz at her ears, but the calico stands strong. The glare that she casts upon Slateheart is withering. "If this is your idea of a joke," she pauses, blinks harshly, "it isn’t funny." It surely must be a joke made in poor taste. Her mate cannot be gone, because Bluepool had only been by her side, her mate, for one season. They didn’t get enough time. There are so many things she didn’t get to say…

Her eyes narrow, fury tracing lines across her scarred muzzle. "No, why would she…" The world spins around her, the sky and land swapping places for a heartbeat. The world is off-balance for the briefest of moments—and the calico rejects what she’s being told. Her gravelly voice rises in pitch, snarls ripped from a throat already worn ragged with grief. She cannot deny it forever, but there is no way to know. The gorge does not return the bodies of fallen warriors to their clans, or to their lovers. If Bluepool had gone over… there would be nothing to bury. No dulled golden eyes to gaze into for the last time. No water-matted pelt to soak up her tears. "No… it isn’t true. She… she’s not dead! She can’t be! You left her behind! We need to find her. Sunstar, she-" A cough halts her words, barely covering the sob that threatens to surface.

Helpless. She does not know the feeling well, but she can only imagine how intimately she may grow to know it now. She turns to her leader, claws sinking into the dirt below her. "I’m going to search for my mate. We will find her." Her voice is steely, but there is no conviction in the words that she speaks. They are hollow—she is hollow.

☽♰☾ IT WAS WAR, IT WASN’T FAIR

• ooc: —
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Her own return from ShadowClan had left her tattered, bleeding, exhausting darkly ringing her green eyes. She can barely keep them open; exhaustion drags her paws. Bluefrost pads to stand beside her tunnelmate, her older brother, and as Slateheart and Dimmingsun begin to speak, something cold begins to form in her stomach. Solid, like ice. Jagged, with teeth. She feels something sour on the back of her tongue as Scorchstreak begins to deny the truth. "She fell over the edge. She was murdered." The gray she-cat licks her lips, and the taste is devastating, like blood.

A feathered tail stiffens, then begins to tremble. "Bluepool? She is... gone?" Her face remains stiff, as though her features refuse to contort. There is no grief in her stomach, but there is, like Sootspot, loss. She remembers the playful silver tabby aunt of her kithood, flashing golden eyes, quick paws that raced the moorland. She remembers Bluepool standing beside Sootstar, fierce, confident. She remembers those same teeth bared against her mother, and her heart twists, her chest caves.

"Bluepool..." She exhales, but the sound is strangled. She dips her face toward the white fluff on her chest, stilled.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[Firefang]

Something had gone terribly wrong. She watches as Dimmingsun and Slateheart lumber in, eyes somber and limbs languid there is no prey dangling from their jaws and there is no Bluepool. Dread pools in her stomach and she slowly forces herself up, her aching limbs protests but she walks closer knowing what she will find. She finds herself at Sootspot's side, she's no mousebrain, there was only one reason why Bluepool wasn't with them and yet she doesn't want to believe it. She watches with disbelief as the truth spills from Slateheart's maw and even if she'd expected it she still feels a wrenching feeling in her gut. They hadn't gotten along, they were far from friends but not quiet enemies either. Firefang struggled to understand her, couldn't fathom why she could so easily turn on her sister - had she felt no remorse? But she didn't want her to die, she was a noble warrior and she'd proven her strength time and time again and Starclan they needed her.

Of all the deaths she could imagine this was one of the worst. She didn't have the honor of dying by anothers claws and being brought back to their camp to share one last night with her clanmates; no she was plunged into the depths of the gorge by a cowardly Riverclanner who didn't have the bravery to fight her with any honor. Her body was lost to them, and maybe it'd show up battered and beaten on some distant shore but she'd never come home. Her ears flatten and she casts her head down and prays that the stars had mercy and that she'd at least died quick. This was the worst case scenario, her teeth grit and briefly she pushes the side of her face against the top of Sootspot's head briefly she says nothing, just watches as her clanmates fall apart. As Sunstar stares forward with eyes she cannot meet, Slateheart and Dimmingsun rattled with shellshock, and Scorchstreak falling apart her convictions her strength failing her. She clings to a order of finding a lost woman and Firefang regardless of her qualms would step towards her.

She takes a long breath and tries not to think of Icebreath. "I'll come with you" Firefang could at least go to her grave could at least feel some semblance of Icebreath's presence if not her warmth. Scorchstreak won't even have that and her and Bluepool had been mates, they should've shared their lives together for many seasons to come but nothing lasted. She knew that better then most. "We'll bring her home" was it cruel to tell a comforting lie? She doesn't know but a part of herself wants to believe her words, but she knows better.

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  text
  

• "speech"

• 

  Firefang ✩ She/Her, Warrior of Windclan, 24 moons
  ⭃ Black tabby she-cat with amber eyes. former-loyalist of Sootstar, Moorunner.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Kedamono ↛ @legmeatt on discord, feel free to dm for plots. ​

​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — To some, silence was a blessing. For many queens especially, a moment of genuine quiet could be considered a gift from Starclan themselves. Yet, Rattleheart couldn't help but know better.

She knew the moment a hush fell over Windclan's camp that something was deeply, profoundly wrong. The world had been stunned into stillness instead of gently ushered to it, and part of her wanted to turn away and block it all out. Remain within the safety of the nursery with her children, and pretend that nothing had changed beyond the walls of gorse that surrounded them. She knew deep down, though, that she couldn't. She was unable to turn her back on the suffering of her clanmates, both as any other Windclan warrior and as one of the lead warriors that were meant to keep things running.

Her voice was hushed and soft as she turned towards her mate, pressing her nose into his thick pelt and asking him to keep a watchful eye over their little ones. It took only the sight of his nod before she felt safe in venturing out, a monochrome form slipping from the nursery and into the crowd that faced down Dimmingsun and Slateheart. A certain familiar form was missing from their side, a realization that alone was enough to run ice through her veins. When Slateheart stepped forward, expression grim, Rattleheart already knew to prepare herself for the worst.

It still wasn't enough, though.

The air was snatched from her lungs more swiftly than it had been when flames had consumed their moors, a feat that would've been impressive if not for the pain it brought her. Fresh tears sting the corners of her pale green gaze, unfocused and hazy as she tried to process the news that had been brought back. Bluepool, gone? Such an event seemed impossible to Rattleheart, after so many moons spent alongside her fellow lead warrior. Even before they had been working side by side, Bluepool had been present since the day she had become a Windclanner. She couldn't have simply vanished. Couldn't have been swallowed up by the gorge that had claimed so many lives in the past.

Staggering steps brought her forward from the crowd, a shadow past the forms of Firefang and Bluefrost. Her focus was only on the hollowed out body of her sister standing before her. Rattleheart's head connected lightly with her side, swiftly followed up by the rest of her body to press them shoulder to shoulder. The croak that left her soft, meant for the ears of Scorchstreak only. "I'm sorry, Scorchstreak. I'd go with you if I could." Rattleheart meant it too, regardless of what her mind was telling her. As much as she knew logically that Bluepool's body was gone, lost to any of them, she knew she would wear her paws down to the bone alongside Scorchstreak if not for the tiny lives depending on her now.

Lives that would never get to properly meet the warrior that would've served as another aunt to them, a thought that made the tears in her eyes burn even more harshly.

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

• 

• 
  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 52 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ❥ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
  ❥ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
  ❥ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
  ❥ currently mentoring downypaw
  ❥ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ all opinions are ic

​