sensitive topics setting fire to our lungs ❄ death


The wind sings a threat, whistling high and winding around the branches above; shaking them and sending leaves whirling in a frenzy. The frame of trees surrounding the camp guard them from most of the ferocity, but he does not like the way they sway. Snowpaw is batting a mossball back to the kits who had sent it fumbling his way, it seemed like they had so many of them now and their outings from the nursery devolved into a swarm of mewling and biting little hellions. He hopes Orangeblossom is proud. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Butterflytuft, once again perched by the nursery and chatting with Plaguekit and Cherrykit while their mothers and caretakes roam off to take a break; he wonders if she’s thinking about Daisyflight again, debates going to check on her when a crack like thunder sounds and he’s instantly alert.
Snowpaw’s golden gaze darts around the camp like many of his clanmates, but a flash of light in the corner of his eye from the sun suddenly becoming visible has his head jerking upward in a panic. He isn’t sure if it was a sign of some kind or a stroke of luck, but it surely got his attention. A tree is falling and in a few seconds he realizes the path it's taking; the nursery.

Soundless, he flies across the ground as surely as he flew from the treetops, he’s newly apprenticed again bouncing on a limb with Figpaw. A kitten sliding an unbroken cicada shell to his brother. An apprentice again rushing to save his blind sister being battered by an enemy clan cat. He blinks and in a moment collides with calico fur, speckled white like the eyespots of a butterfly, fragile and in need of protection. His eyes close tight, he hears a body hit the ground, feels the snow under his paws once more, the screaming. A voice sings in his head both familiar and comforting-

“Look after your sister!”

And he does.
She is thrown aside, toppled easily with his much taller form. A long time ago he once toddled after her, a mite of a kitten, now he towered over her-now he was strong enough to throw her.
The tree slams down over the nursery, the weight continues pushing it to the earth and he hears the shrill cries of alarmed kittens as they frantically rush away; nearly flattened under Butterflytuft’s rolling form.

He feels nothing from the impact, not immediately. It crashes down directly upon his back. The air rushes upward from his lungs and escapes him in a sound that is both a cry of alarm and a gasp of relief; as though he had been holding this particular breath for far too long and perhaps he had. The rustling of the branches continuing to topple around him hurt his ears more than the tree trunk across his spine and it is only when the coursing wind falls briefly silent does he finally register the pain; piercing and hot like a fire burning through him and he cries out feebly, almost kit-like to the intensity. Claws aimlessly dig into the ground before him, forearms shuffling for some strength, some second wind to allow him to pull himself out from beneath the great pine but there is no tension in his limbs, no effort. He feels almost weightless now, the motions automatic, his mind watching the upper part of his body unburied spasming in its last ditch effort to live and when he realizes the severity of the situation he finds himself letting go. Snowpaw let his head rest against the ground, breathing labored and heavy; unable to muster up a proper gulp of air from the lungs now crushed within his chest under heavy wood. Blood scent hits him, he isn’t sure where it's coming from until he opens his mouth to speak, unsure if he wants to call for help or scream but the only thing that escapes his maw is a dribbling cascade of red before he is able to conjure up even the most strained of, "...mom-!" Voice heavy with fear, pain, uncertainty.


[Ooc]
PAFP -
@butterflytuft
Mentions - @Plaguekit & @Cherrykit
The nursery was empty and is now crushed by the toppled tree!
 
Butterflytuft is where she usually is when she's wanting to relax - by the nursery, her tail swishing happily behind her as she checks in on the kits. A smile lights up her face, a stark contrast to the hollowness that had been there since Daisyflight's death. It's a slow recovery, but with the comfort and support of her family and Blazestar and Dandelionwish, she is learning to live in a world where her mother no longer exists. She's learning to find happiness again, and it's easily discovered in the laughter of kits. She giggles back to them after one of them tells a bad joke, her eyes squinting shut before a sharp crack alerts her to danger. Her ears prick and she glances over her shoulder with a look of surprise. What she sees sends a scream of terror ripping from her throat; a pine tree, splintering and snapping, hurtling towards her.

She's sure this is where she meets her end. Her life, short as it has been, flashes before her eyes. The bramble bush Blazestar found her under, the holly bush Daisyflight raised her, the tumbling from trees as she failed over and over again at climbing, her warrior ceremony, the shelter...she has a sick feeling she's about to be reunited with her mother in the stars as she instinctively crouches in fear, fur spiked and ears flat against her head as wide yellow eyes watch the death trap come down upon her.

A hefty force would be her savior, thrusting her out of harm's way with a powerful shove. She is thrown several fox-lengths, rolling away from the crashing tree with a gasp and a grunt as she finally slows and stops. A soft groan escapes her as she lifts her head, wincing slightly. She searches for what had sent her flying and stares wide-eyed at the feeble form of her little brother beneath the very tree that had been falling towards her. "Sn-Snowpaw!" She shrieks, her cry piercing the air of camp as she stumbles to her paws and bounds towards him faster than she'd ever moved in her life. She slides to a halt before him on hind legs, forepaws slamming into the bark as if she hopes to move it all by herself. "Snowpaw, can you hear me?!" This can't be happening....not right after their mother left them. She couldn't lose her brother, too, not right before her eyes like Daisyflight!
 
The winds were raging like he'd never seen before, and Grapejuice had to admit, he was a little frightened. He watches the trees nervously when the wind isn't drying his eyes out every time they open... And of course, when his eyes are shut, he hears the sickening crack he was hoping he would never hear. He opens his eyes, turns around frantically just in time to see Snowpaw crushed under the trunk of a tree, as well as the nursery.

He feels his soul leave his body. His blood is ice.

He rushes forward without a thought. His voice catches in his throat. He reaches the fallen trunk and frantically tries to think of something. Anything.

"Hold on- Just hang on- We... We'll get you out!!" His voice is high, full of panic and fear.

After a few quick breaths, he decides to start digging around Snowpaw. He can't move a tree, this is the next best option.

"SOMEONE HELP!!" He shouts over his shoulder, hoping others were coming to help.​
 
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It's a verdant strike, like claws sinking into his chest at the sound of cracking, at the sound of impact, his sister's screams. The sight of his brother, crimson leaking from his maw beneath a pine no longer intact as he chokes out a shout for Daisyflight.

It's a nightmare. Another nightmare. Except, he isn't waking up from this one. No startling jolt to place him back into his nest at the panic that fills his chest, at the sounds escaping his own maw. Screams, an effort that would only be silenced in his slumber.

No, this is real. This is happening. His brother is stuck beneath a tree - his sister only just barely freed from its collision course.

"Snow..!" he shouts for his brother, orange and white paws moving without a second thought. His brother, his brother. He can't lose him too - not now, not ever. He'd only just gotten his brother back. Snow can't leave him so soon.

The young warrior's stride doesn't slow down - a running start towards the tree, as if his own impact would carry the strength to free his littermate. But it's of no use, even with Butterflytuft trying to push at pine's trunk as well.

His sides heave as he looks around, casting his green gaze on the surrounding area. There had to be a way.

It comes in Grapejuice shouting for help, the daylight warrior scraping paws against the ground beside scarlet-stained fur. Greeneyes moves swiftly, his own paws starting to dig around the opposite side of his brother.

"Snow... Snow..." his brother's name spills out of his snow-splashed muzzle as quick as blood spills out of his brother's own - a choking cry, tears stinging at his eyes as Greeneyes' claws dig into the soil."We'll... We'll get you out. You're going to be okay, yeah? It's okay... It's... It's okay."

It's a rambling reassurance, one that Greeneyes finds himself repeating as he works. The warrior is uncertain if he's trying to convince himself or his brother more, if he's trying to fill the air with consolation and comfort, rather than cries and shouts.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay.
 
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A crash- a crack, almighty and severing. Severing of what-? Cleaving, cutting through his ears- slicing through his mind. Dizzying strike, dizzying him. Wide eyes found the source of the noise, of the panic; the nursery, emptied of kits and mothers but with a familiar face crushed inside. His jaw parted, slacked, when in his whirling mind he at last registered the face; Snowpaw.

His throat was desert-dry, and mismatched paws began moving before he even thought- before he could even consider it. Did he need to? Her son- her son. Snowpaw, who he'd known all his life. Why would he ever consider it? Any Clanmate he would barrel forward, any of them- and this was Snowpaw, too, not just any. Her son.

He choked on his breath, before he could even spit out a word. "Oh, no, no, no, no..." He was steady on his feet, despite his constant trembling, despite his whirring, winding words. What was he meant to say? The panic in his eyed would betray the truth behind any reassurance he tried to give. Greeneyes was doing that, anyway.

The tree- he couldn't move the tree. Couldn't, but- panicked eyes found the scrabbling paws of Greeneyes and Grapejuice, on Butterflytuft desperately attempting to push the tree off of him. He fixed his monarch-painted friend with a look of bewildered sorrow, of disbelief, but if she saw him or not he did not wait long enough to tell.

He dug, too- turned and got to work, rapidly as he could, his breath trembling, quickening, quickened. This could not happen- not another, not another.
penned by pin ✧
 
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A darkened paw shifts a pile of catmint aside at the call of his name, though it isn't an all-too-familiar voice that calls it. Fireflypaw lifts his wide-eyed gaze upwards, confusion evident in his expression as he listens to the cat rambling on at intense speeds. "Slow down. What's going on?" He asks softly, though the whipping winds threaten to tear his den right out of the ground. "Snowpaw.. Trapped under tree.. Help.." It's with wider eyes does Fireflypaw receive the warning, shoving his way past the NPC to dash towards the direction he's led towards. A tail is planted firmly on his spine, leading him through the maze of tree limbs. He can't smell anyone thanks to the buffering winds around them, but he can faintly hear the sound of Greeneyes' voice. His brother, Butterfly's baby brother.. Oh, his heart clenches in his chest as he listens to the wailing for help, the 'it's going to be okay's.

Where is my sister?! I want my sister!

A flash of a familiar memory, and Fireflypaw goes cold- he wants to help, he does.. But with a tree crushing his body, it couldn't be possible to pull him out. Digging, maybe, but that would take too long. At this point, he would suffocate to death.. The tree would crush his very being. Fireflypaw musters up the strength to move then, moving alongside Butterflytuft and Greeneyes to begin digging with Grapejuice. "We've got you- we've got you, Snow." He tries his best to reassure, the dirt below his feet giving way as tufted paws dig heftily through the grass and dirt. He was no Moorlander, though.

Why isn't anyone doing anything to help her?!

Fireflypaw feels tears well up as his paws grow numb from digging, eyes wild with panic and yet.. Yet.. He keeps going. If they couldn't push the tree off of him, Fireflypaw would do his damned best to dig underneath him. If he could help Grapejuice long enough, he could be of some use. "One, two, three, four.. O-One.." His counting, alongside the hiccups and tears that rolled down his cheeks, didn't suit the tom- his determined look on his face causing his eyebrows to scrunch together.

When would all the bad end?​
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 10 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS
 
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Crack!

The sound sets Orangeblossom's teeth on edge. Fur puffed out in panic and torn from the conversation she'd been having, the deputy casts a worried look up and around the top of the camp walls. With the sky clear and the wind whistling through the camp more intensely than ever, the surprise comes with Orangeblossom wondering why something hadn't fallen on them sooner. The only question remaining ...

"Tree. Where is it?" She hisses, ears pinning. Eerily silent for a moment, she shushes one of the kits at her side. By the force of the noise, immense creak and groan that had split the air, a whole tree had uprooted- but the boughs dancing above her head give no indication of the source until it's almost too late. There. Falling ... right into the camp!

"Move!" Orangeblossom chokes a broken noise as she realises its path is right on top of them and she scarpers, a grunt of pain at the pressure on her bad leg muffled by the kitten she scruffs, launching herself out of the way to the other side of camp - right as Snowpaw, brave, stupid Snowpaw, pushes Butterflytuft out of the way, who knocks into Cherrykit and Plaguekit, sending them sprawling out of the tree's path-

And then nothing as the tree bounces briefly, and settles right across the SkyClan camp. For a moment she's frozen, horrified, processing the calico fur that surely cleared the path of the tree, right? Cherrykit couldn't be gone, she decides, especially as Butterflytuft starts crying for Snowpaw. He'd been trapped, maybe even worse, and here she was, stuck on the other side with no visual on the situation.

"Stay with Bobbie!" She orders the kits on her side of the tree, giving herself no time to fall into the role of mother. None of the cats on this side appeared injured or trapped, so they could wait. More panicked yowls reach her from the other side and Orangeblossom draws a shuddering breath, forcing her paws into action, and she approaches the trunk where she can see Snowpaw's tail sticking out. It doesn't look good, but damn it, he deserved a proper burial.

"Dig him out!" This order is to the older SkyClanners who have clustered on the other side, unaware that they have already beaten her to the action. Orangeblossom shoves past the horrified to add her strong shoulders to the mix at Snowpaw's rear; she's no moor-rat, but a lifetime of climbing pine trees and pulling herself up by the shoulders has given her the strength necessary to get a start in the soft soil. Maybe she should try to wedge herself underneath as leverage, or they could use a rock ... Over the cacophony, she yowls, "Was everyone else clear of the tree?"

  •  
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    orangeblossom. tags.
    — she/her, skyclan deputy.
    — mentor to eveningpaw.
    — attack in #e08550. uses trees as an integral part of her fighting style.
    — mean enough to note that her thoughts don't reflect my opinions as a writer haha.
    — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
    — art by merc!<3
 
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Butterflytuft is nice, Cherrykit thinks. Nice enough to mediate a conversation between she and Plaguekit, of all cats. StarClan knows how she was looped into the scene, but even with the blustering wind (has it gotten louder?), she enjoys it in the easy, memory-lit way that peace is always remembered. Plaguekit tells a joke, probably at her expense but not enough to provoke her into lunging for the rest of his fur. In the coming seconds, days, and years; she won't remember what it was. The last bits and pieces she'll remember are glaring into eerie turquoise eyes, which narrow tauntingly back at her, a small pink tongue curling in response between needle-bright teeth, and gentle laughter between their stares, beneath the winds.

She gets the wind knocked out of her before she can even process it. A mass of calico fur engulfs her by force; Butterflytuft is no Slate nor Silversmoke, but she'll still larger than the two kittens she's flung into. Cherrykit's gasp is drowned in the bristling auburn and black, as though every dark crevice of her lungs were overtaken by flames, panic flying like smoke through her chest. She lands, no, tumbles, a fox-length away from where the warrior eventually ends up. She's too light to be injured seriously, but fair frame still seizes for a moment, coughing out the wind and rubbing out the dust, before she wobbles to her paws at the sound of screams. Why are they screaming? What are they screaming?

A name, just one, a frenzied chorus over the fretting winds, dissonant like the mindless cries of the forest creatures at night. Snow! Snow! Snowpaw! The voices are all too clear now, but all she's focused on is scrambling away to the beat of them. Snowpaw is a name she recognizes, but the name she wants is, "MAMA! MA-" She sobs with every other footstep. Tears roll fat and slick down her cheeks as she darts in and around the stampede of paws and cries, barely hearing her own voice that just continues begging, "Daddy! Mama! Da- hic -Daddy!"

By some blessing of StarClan, or perhaps Orangeblossom gathering all the attention to her authority, she runs straight into her mother. But she only barks at her to stay with Bobbie. Cherrykit doesn't want to, please don't make her, she doesn't know Bobbie that well and she's so fat now and slow and she won't be able to protect her like Orangeblossom can, but her mother has her back to her already and she doesn't want to make her mad, oh, that'll only make everything worse. So she struggles her way to the dim brown form, where the rest of her siblings and most of the nursery cower, but stops halfway.

Something is telling her not to look. Look where? But she knows the answer: backwards. There's something bad behind her, because that's where everyone is going, that's the direction everyone is shouting. She shouldn't look. She really shouldn't look. If she looks, something very bad will happen, maybe because it already happened or because she looked.

She looks.

All the way past the tangle of legs, like straining to see through the SkyClan forest, lies Snowpaw. Red is running from his mouth, like he's become a fish and can only breathe water, except the water is red and thick and sharp. He doesn't seem to be looking anywhere in particular, like he's so sleepy he can't focus his gaze, but his gaze is wide because he needs to see through all that red, the red water he's going to dive into when he's a fish. His cheeks are shiny, but he can't be crying. Snowpaw is so tough! She heard he was going to become a warrior soon, only Blazestar didn't give him his name because he was with Daddy in the Twolegplace and couldn't get out in time.

More red is coming from his mouth now, in thick dribbles like milk or spit. He doesn't seem to like it. He really doesn't like it. Cherrykit can't seem to tear her gaze away from the silent horror film, a reel flickering with all the bodies interrupting it, but she wants to just as much as Snowpaw looks like he wants to get out. Everyone's trying to help him get out because he's too tired to do it by himself, but the movie is playing too long. The seconds crawl by like eons, and Cherrykit is forced to wonder, what if he doesn't get out?
 
Drizzlepaw is quick to be alerted to the thrash of the tree falling down on top of the nursery, and even quicker to leap to action as Snowpaw wails, trapped under the weight. He might not be close to the other apprentice, but damn if he's not gonna do all he can to help out. This was the last thing Snowpaw needed right now...he refuses to believe he'll die.

He takes a quick glance at the scene of destruction before him, and gives a short sigh of relief at the fact that it seems like no other cat was hurt. It didn't make the situation much better, but at least no kits got immediately killed by the impact. The poor den, though... He can worry about the damage later; it can be rebuilt, brought back. Snowpaw couldn't.

He immediately goes to work on helping Orangeblossom and the others free the cat by digging, putting as much energy into his paws as he can. Working with soil might not be his strong suit, but whatever it takes, he'll do. "I think...everyone else is okay," he reports to the deputy, hoping it calms them all down even the slightest bit.​
 
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The wind keens like a mother who has lost her kit. Its shriek fills Blazestar with dread, though he could not have known what it’s done to their camp. Their Clan. The splintering crack of snapping wood, shouts and yowls of panic, fill his ears like a nightmare. Butterflytuft and two of the kits—one of Orangeblossom’s and one of the shelter kits Bobbie cares for—are in the path of the crashing cylinder, and he gives his own shriek of fear. “Butterflytuft!” His muscles are bunched beneath pale windswept fur, preparing to barrel into the tortoiseshell and sweep the kits away. He will die for them—he will die for any SkyClanner—but it’s too late.

Reflected in blue eyes stretched thin is a powdery gray and white shape that flings itself into the space where his former apprentice and the kits had been. Snowpaw. He can see the glint of fear in his glassy golden gaze, but there’s something else. Determination. Blazestar pants and struggles to make it to the felled pine, the crushed apprentice, as other cats cry, shake, and dig through debris.

Orangeblossom asks if anyone else is hurt, and Drizzlepaw answers no—only Snowpaw. Blazestar’s voice shakes, hoarse, as he says, “Because of Snowpaw. He—he saved Cherrykit and Plaguekit.” He comes to a stop before the mangled front half of his body. Blood dribbles from his jaws. “You saved Butterflytuft,” he says in a low voice, as though he’s speaking only to the silver-patched apprentice.

He is not Dawnglare, not Fireflypaw, but he does not need a medicine cat to know Snowpaw is on his way to join StarClan. Daisyflight, did you see him? Did you see your son save his Clanmates? Are you here? A strangled sob comes from the Ragdoll’s throat. He lowers his nose to push it into the fur on Snowpaw’s head, trying to still his trembling voice.

You gave your life for them,” he says. This will not be news to Snowpaw, surely. There’s a dimming in his golden eyes now—as though he’s looking at silver-dusted landscapes far from here. “You could not get your warrior name while trapped in that shelter, but your mother is here now. Don’t you feel her too?” Tears spill from Blazestar’s eyes and splash onto the top of Snowpaw’s head.

He raises his voice, and though it shakes with the power of his grief, it resonates throughout the camp and over the howling winds. “I ask my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has given up his life in the service of his Clan.” His ears flatten, and he grits his teeth to keep steady. A memory strains against his brain, the memory of Daisyflight dragging her brood home on a flat fern. A single gray and white body amidst the oranges and tortoiseshell shapes.

Let StarClan receive him as a warrior.” He had watched Snowpaw go from a sullen, unsure apprentice to one filled with repentance and sorrow. His daughter’s blood on his gray-flecked paws. The time he’d taken to undo his mistake, enduring his crown of thorns with every labored step.

He will be known as Snowpath.” For the path he’d staggered through, dragging mistakes and turmoil and a desire to come out stronger on the other side. “Let…” He chokes, sinking his claws into the earth and feeling bits of splintered pine dig into his paw pads, “—let StarClan receive him by the name of Snowpath.

His nose sinks again into Snowpath’s bruised and battered brow. “Is she here for you?” He whispers. “Is she here to take you to StarClan?” He glances around, half-expecting to see a glitter-pelted gray calico warrior watching him with silvered eyes.


[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
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HE SAID, "WELL MY NAME'S JOHNNY, AND IT MIGHT BE A SIN
BUT I'LL TAKE YOUR BET, AND YOU'RE GONNA REGRET, CUZ IM THE BEST THERE'S EVER BEEN."



Johnny tore into camp like a bat out of hell, chest heaving and amber eyes wide. Hed heard the crack of the tree and the chorus of screams and shrieks that went up in it's wake, and his hunt had been promptly abandoned as he raced back to his clanmates. It only took a moment for things to sink in; the state of the nursery, the crowd digging furiously around a body, the palpable grief in the air.

His firt instinct was to join the team in digging at the nursery, but he'd hardly taken two steps toward it when the panicked cries of Cherrykit caught his attention. She was sobbing for her parents, staggering through the crowd with tearstained cheeks and fearful eyes. Plagas was there too among the throngs of warriors and apprentices, and for a brief moment he allowed himself to feel relieved that the patchy tomkit was okay.

But Orangeblossom, Bobbie, and the other kits- were they still inside? Were they okay?

He didn't think twice before making his way over to the shekit and wrapping around her, blocking her view of the body with his own. She didn't need to see that. She was far too young, far too innocent to have to deal with the nightmares this would bring.

"Shhh, come here sweetheart. I've got you." he soothed, rasping a tongue between her ears in an attempt to comfort her. "Don't look over there, look at me, okay? We have to give the others room to work."

He wanted to tell her everything would be fine but he wasn't sure if it would be. He had no clue if Orangeblossom and the others were okay, but he sure as hell would make sure that Cherrykit and Plaguekit were.

Speaking of.

"Plaguekit! Over here, with me!" he called to the young boy, wanting them away from the panicking crowd and the scent of blood.

Once he had them both, he'd start shuffling them away from the crowd and toward the warriors den. He didn't have a nest in there, but he doubted anyone was going to fuss about it.

"If anyone can get through to Orangeblossom, tell her I've got Cherrykit and she's okay!" the bobtail called toward the digging cats, praying to the stars that his friend was okay.

OOC- @Cherrykit and @Plaguekit Johnnys attempting to take both away from the body/nursery toward the warriors den.

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FIGFEATHER

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Whether she had been participating on a hunting patrol with Johnny or flying solo, a startling CRASH had been heard through the entirety of the territory. The forest floor had shook, it had been unlike anything the warrior had experienced before... Even more alarming, the sound had traveled from the direction of camp. Though slower than the other cats who raced home, she flies through the tunnel entrance, her chest heaving and lungs burning. It didn't take much searching to find the cause of the crash, the trembling earth, a tree had collapsed right on top of the nursery.

Her jaw collapses, limbs buckle when she spots silver fur being drug out from the debris.
Snowpaw!

Figfeather races forward, a grief-stricken yowl of dismay floods from her throat. His yellow gaze was growing dull and he stared off into unknown lands, as blood dribbles from his cheek Blazestar presses his nose into her brother's forehead.

Let StarClan recieve him by the name of Snowpath.

Tears swell into her eyes, uncontrollably she sobs and hiccups, how could this have happened?! How could life have been so cruel to him? Snowpath has died a hero. A warrior's death. Perhaps in these darkest of times, it was all they could ask for, it was a death any noble warrior would have been content with. Blazestar yields her undying gratitude, nothing could've honored Snowpath's sacrifice more than the warrior name now bestowed upon him.

Figfeather is beside her siblings now, beside Snowpath's body. Her heart trembles, she wails his warrior name, "...Snowpath... Snowpath!" A chant, a scream, a grief-stricken celebration of the warrior name he now bestowed, the warrior he now was. Forever, and always. If Figfeather could not bring her brother back to life, she would fill the air with his name until every cat from the twolegplace to ShadowClan knew of him, and the grave yet noble sacrifice he had made.
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Like claw tearing through curtain– or perhaps, just beginning to graze against the cloth, the echo of something awry seems to split through the clearing. Creaking, crackling; the wind tries and fails to hide all that is there. The crack is more tangible than it is not, then, sending ripples through the air and through the ground, drawing blue pool eyes open from its half - lidded stuper as he lifts his face to thing– great pillar of pine crashing down upon them. Dawnglare wonders what they have done to deserve this; not in the sense that there couldn't possibly be anything, but rather, that he knows there is something.

Surprise does not twist his face into anything grotesque, but instead, he watches as the forest falls half - propped above the ground and with eyes wide and blinking. A blue blur knows the target better than he. He catches a hint of something– someone, before the pine crashes with a mighty thump, bringing the nursery crashing down with it. There is a tingle up the medicine cat's spine, discomfort in the similarities between his den, and the nurserys. Both bushels of holly, both susceptible to the storms wrath. Paranoia has his neck snapping to his den, perhaps ensuring that it had not been similar affected, but he knows that Fireflypaw would be dead, if that were the case.

And there are no close screams nor shrieks. A warrior comes forward, and not a moment later, Fireflypaw is slipping from the darkness of the burrow. With a moment of pause, Dawnglare would join him, rousing where he lounges nearby to circle the scene along with the rest of SkyClan.

Screams ring out, murmuring worry. Dawnglare's face is a sheet of stone as the picked remains of the nursery draw closer. They talk as if he's still alive. They dig as if he's still alive. Fireflypaw is warbling like a songless bird, but there is truly no point. What does it matter what they could see, when the rest of him would be blood and dust?

And Blazestar begins to speak.

Could the body even truly hear him? Perhaps its there still– a spark, even if fog threatens the eyes and blood pools from an aching maw. He would not cry for someone he cared little about. But he would acknolwedge him. A hum buzzes on his lips with the uttering of a new name. Dawnglare lets his eyes fall shut.

Who knows if StarClan would accept this one, anyways?
 

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"
Eyes once gilded with green now watched on in silver. Winter-sun silhouette, bright with her celestial second life, glimmered through the ranks of the living, breathing. Daisyflight had been watching her family since parting with them, flanking each moment on icy breath. The distance was striking- painful- but witnessing her kits in warriorhood, their days slip into nights, had sweetened the sorrow.

Now, unseen, Daisyflight paced through the gale towards Snowpaw amongst irrepressible light. The sight of him, pewter-flecked form small beneath the pine broke her silence. ’...Mom-!’. Her wail bled frost. An exchange of protection, raw and quick and final. The proof of his sacrifice were safe a tails length away, proof of a promise kept.

The steel-singed rage of another unfairness, for her son, slid deep. It had been Snowpaw’s choice, however, and the terrible alternatives, the never-seen futures were drowned out with cosmic awareness. His end was near, and it was as hard and violent as the rest of it.

Frenzied paws sought him out, clanmates trying to free the tom. Daisyflight mirrored their haste, a stream of spindrift comets, trying to be beside him in the worst of his pain. Helplessly, she hoped death would be as foggy a sensation as it had been for her.

A nose wrought in starlight brushed the tom’s cheek, the motion almost mundane in its familiarity. "I’m here, I was always here." Her tone rasped with melancholy and selfish reverie. Stellar strands span, an invitation, a shroud, in the hems of his pelt. “My brave, brave boy. You have fought so tirelessly. Please, come and rest.”

The words soften into stillness at Blazestar’s approach. A sob-soaked purr rattled out at the ragdoll’s call to Starclan. Recognition, woven into Snowpaw’s place between the constellations. Eternal. So many bodies, hot with blood and beating hearts, accompanied the ceremony- deepening it, remembering it. Him. Daisyflight was flooded with gratitude and she hoped the leader could sense it, in some way, through the starlit egress.

Snowpath. Silken whiskers twitched with recognition, of that noon spent speculating. Fitting. Pride glimmered openly across her frame. “Snowpath… Are you ready?” Eyes strayed to his siblings, and a glitter-smoked unsteadiness rocks the calico's silhouette. Not yet.

Silver met gold, her resolve renewed. Then Daisyflight’s tail swept in an arc, lustre thrumming amidst the moon-stitched plumage. A flank was offered as she had during his sister’s ceremony so many moons ago. To a new chapter.
 

Can you hear me? His ears flick, twitch in response but he says nothing. Not yet.
Pain blurs his vision, but he somehow remains attentive enough to make out the cats now clamoring around him; desperate voices and even more desperate paws working to try and free him through any means-whether it be comfort or his restraints. Snowpaw’s head remains limp upon the ground as he breathes in slow, stuttering rasps and tears nip the corners of his eyes but not out of fear or panic; but warmth. He’d spent so many moons believing himself hated by his entire clan for what he’d done so long ago, only recently adjusting back to normalcy though the burden would never fully leave him and that he was painfully aware of, but to see his clanmates flock to try and save him despite how blatantly unlikely it was…he’d never felt more loved than the first time he opened his eyes on an oversized leaf.
The blue dappled tom was no idiot, he had his sensibilities and he had developed a realistic outlook on the world from a combination of his own growth and the teachings from his sharpened mentor. He was dying and he knew it. A slow, steady pulse was ringing in his ears with each second that passed and he knew it was only a matter of time. Somehow this realization brought him more peace than anything else though it would be a lie to deny the regret and grief he felt at not being able to live after all his struggles. He had persevered and for what?
To simply die still carrying an apprentice name and so many dreams he’d never achieve. But the bitter part of him that wanted to be angry was so much smaller than the part of him that took the moment he was given and latched onto it with reckless abandon. He wasn’t dead yet, so he could speak and despite the pain he would force the words out he wanted to say knowing that to forsake this chance would be to forsake goodbyes.
“Greeny…it’s okay.” His brother’s own words repeated back now instead to comfort him rather than himself. He tries to keep his voice steady but he is not so much talking as he is desperately throwing out words in the hope they register, that the sound escapes him in more than just a strained breath and cough, “..love you..all of you.” It’s all he can even manage and it feels like it's not enough.
His siblings, his friends…the image of a cinnamon molly drifts upward to his thoughts and he feels a pang of regret so sharp it makes him gasp. Roeflame, I’m sorry…
Fireflypaw is there too, he wants to tell him to take care of his brother but he's exhausted his effort to speak already. Twitchbolt joins them and in a brief glance the multicolor eyed tom gives him enough comfort in knowing he'd be there for Butterflytuft at the very least; that she had more than just her siblings to help her grieve. Johnny arrives to comfort the kits, Orangeblossom's stern tone rises up in authority. Everyone was okay, except him...and that was fine.

Blazestar arrives onto the scene, disbelief and compassion in his tone and even though the world continues to fade and blur around him he feels the press of warm fur over him as the leader speaks, touches him briefly in such a warm gesture he realizes the truth of the tired tom's name at long last, even the tears spilling over onto his head are hot; blazing. Snowpaw remains just focused enough the declaration to the plea to the stars rings loud and clear in his head.

Snowpath. Gold eyes widen, the tears lining them finally spill; his one regret to die unnamed immediately fading away and he feels foolish that of all things it was this that struck him as one of his biggest regrets. But he’s remembering sitting with Coyotepaw discussing names and he recalls, it had been one of two his mother suggested as a possibility for him offhand and he’s certain she never mentioned either to Blazestar; that the ragdoll bent over him weeping had conjured it up on his own…it meant a lot more to him than he could express. They both knew the rocky and bloodstained path he’d walked, they both had wanted him to keep walking it despite everything and he had. He’d tried. In the end he had diverged from it but seeing his sister safe and the two kits crying and scared but alive; it was worth it to step off even if this is how it ended.
A golden blur crosses his vision, Figgy, they’re all here at least and he hears his new name chanted like a proper ceremony by his sister's piercing yowl; drowning out the blood pounding in his head.
Snowpaw-no-Snowpath offered a tired smile, still motionless where he lay paws outstretched and the nose to his head made him wonder what it might’ve been like to have a father like Blazestar who would forgive him so openly. Daisyflight had been enough though, hearing her name sets his stare past the hunched leader and his siblings and he spots a shimmer in the air that gradually draws together into the distinct outline of a cat.
Is she here? He’s too tired to nod, he wishes he could but he manages out at least a breathless reply of, “...yeah..” She was. She is. A glow behind her like the setting sun. He could see her now finally though he’d been faintly aware of something the entire time; another presence just next to him he could not make out until this moment. Content he lets his eyelids finally drop, not even closing fully before he’s gone; before it all goes dark and suddenly he feels weightless.

Snowpath stands, surprising himself, but the pain vanishes in an instant and after a moment he realizes why; he’s no longer burdened by the broken body under the tree. Daisyflight is more visible now and he can finally hear her, ears pricking up in delight at the familiar voice once again. He gets to hear her say his new name. Wishes it had been under different circumstances, but pleased all the same. Are you ready?
”No.” He chokes out, smiling but bitterly tearful still, ”I don’t think I’ll ever be but..”

The dappled tom looks forward to his mother with a smile to greet her and bumps his head to hers before giving a brief pause to glance back over the cats he was leaving behind. He wished he could say more…he wished he had more time but…in the end he accepted this.
”...I’m okay with this. I don’t regret it.”
His golden gaze slowly settles on Dawnglare, realizes the healer is staring back, and in response he smirks before turning away with a flick of his star-spotted tail to follow along after Daisyflight next to his mother flank by flank to somewhere else…

 

Breathing burned- selfishly, like he was the one beneath the tree. Oxygen was smog, though- billowing as he dug, dug, dug. Uselessly. A sob of panic and- and whatever else shuddered through his throat, forced its way out. His mind was on one thing, and that thing was not stopping any show of panic. Dusty paws blurred, but- but it was useless, wasn't it? Especially as Blazestar approached, rested his muzzle upon Snowpaw's head and spoke with an awful finality that almost made Twitchbolt scream.

He did not know when he had stopped digging, but it was Figfeather's collapsed expression the caught his periphery after the leader had spoken. A hero- he was dying as a hero, and rewarded with the ceremony that the grasping paws of Twolegs had prevented him from receiving. It was- was horrible that martyrdom had been his sole reward, a cruel fate, and yet... yet, it was down to them to give him this honour, wasn't it? Figfeather's chanting... they would bid goodbye to him with the warrior ceremony he deserved above any other.

"S-Snowpath! Snowpath!" He joined Figfeather, unsure of how loud or quiet his voice really was with the wind billowing through his ears and the blood that roared through his body, adrenaline that failed to drown out the twist of pain in his chest. Not another, not another. But that was reality, and- and he spoke, one last time. Words claret-cradled, he spoke...

She was here.

As if he would have doubted. He had not known Daisyflight as her own children had, but had known her well enough to drown any doubt that she would guide her son to the stars. It was a goodbye, this- one he would weep for, but one he did not bid out loud. This was a warrior ceremony- a warrior's death.
penned by pin ✧
 
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He stops his frantic digging, as it's become apparent that it's too late. No...no! They could keep trying, he could keep trying...no, the rational part of him says. There's no way he was going to survive, and he knew it, and so did everyone else. Blazestar's solemn acknowledgement to his sentence makes it even more clear. His eyes lower in sadness as his mood is quickly dampened, not having to witness another cat dying before. He didn't know how he'd react, but all he can feel right now is sorrow.

At the very least, he is finally granted his warrior name before he's truly gone. Snowpath...it's a perfect name for a deserving hero. "Snowpath...Snowpath," he joins in, even though his voice is shaky, half from being out of breath and half from his stirring emotions. He sits there silently as the light of the dying cat leaves his eyes He turns his head away, looking at the ground to avoid the scene. He hopes Snowpath will finally be granted true peace...he prays for it with all his heart.​
 
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Angry at all the things I can't change
A startling crash and eerie rumble of earth trembling beneath his paws is enough to send him racing back to camp with prey clutched between his jaws. Mournful wails and the scent of copper fills the air, bombarding his ears and nose the moment he enters. Pastel eyes flit over a downed tree and instantly to the one pinned so tightly beneath it. His jaw falls slack, prey thudding against the ground as he stumbles forward one step and then another before rushing to the scene. "Snowpath...Snowpath!" Several chant as his heart pounds within his chest. The world slows for just a moment, allowing tears to gather in his eyes as he gazes upon his friend's peaceful features. It wasn't difficult to piece together what happened. But a selfish part of him wished it was someone other than the dappled tom laying there. "We were supposed to become warriors together..." The thought crosses his mind and he briefly recalls their time spent musing over warrior names.

Claws hook deep into the soil beneath to help keep him anchored as grief washed over him. They might not have stood side by side to become warriors together. But Snowpath deserved this ceremony and to be treated as the hero he truly was. "...Snowpath! Snowpath! Snowpath!" Coyotepaw shouted to the heavens above, a chant he was determined for the entire forest to hear. A celebration of life. The praise of a hero.
When you're lost in the universe don't lose faith
 
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Claws scramble to scrape away dirt, panicked words still spilling out of the warrior.

"It's okay, it's okay!" Greeneyes rushes out, "I'm... I'm gonna get you out! We're gonna get you out! It's okay!"

Tears blur his vision, only making it harder to see what he's doing - but he must keep going. He has to get Snowpaw out of here.

Snowpaw has to live.

He has to. He still has to become a warrior. He still has to move into the warrior den - Greeneyes has been watching, has been making sure there's enough space for his brother to finally lay his nest among them. Snowpaw still has hunting patrols to take part in, gatherings to go to.

He still has yet to hear his warrior name chanted back to him. Still has yet to celebrate that moment, to get used to the name change, the stumbling corrections from Snowpaw to Snowshine, to Snowstride, to Snowgleam.

Snowpaw deserves to live as a warrior, not die as an apprentice. With everything he's been through, with how hard he's worked, he deserves something good for once. Not this.

But, as white paws turn brown in the soil he drags out, as what little time he has to free his brother ticks onwards - Greeneyes fears more and more that a warrior's life will not come for his brother. How could this be Snowpaw's reward for saving Butterflytuft? For saving Cherrykit and Plaguekit?

"It's okay, Snowy. You're gonna be --"

Greeny… it’s okay.

His reassurances are turned around on him. The words are choked out, forced - an effort that uses far too much energy. Greeneyes thinks he knows then. He thinks he's always known, but has been spending the last moments in denial, pretending that he would wake up from this nightmare. That his brother wouldn't be crimson-stained before him, breathing limited breaths.

But it doesn't stop the tears from falling, doesn't stop his now slowing paws from digging at the dirt.

"... Love you... all of you.

"I... I love you too, Snowy..."

He doesn't know when Blazestar appeared, or when his paws finally slowed to a stop. He does know the sick feeling that bubbles up as the ragdoll speaks to Snowpaw, as he presses his nose to gray-splotched fur the young warrior has known all his life. You gave your life for them, he tells the apprentice. Greeneyes wants to shout, wants to wake up.

"Let StarClan receive him by the name of Snowpath.

A finality to his words, a ceremony given. Greeneyes looks down at Snowpath through tears, realizes just how fast his brother is fading away now with another choked-out sob.

"Snowpath! Snowpath!" he chants with all the energy he can muster in that moment, with all the love for his brother he has. His brother may not get to live as a warrior, but he'll be welcomed to the night's sky as one.

Greeneyes wishes for more for his littermate, for him to have been a SkyClan warrior for longer, but knows the stars have different plans now. And as his final breaths begin to play out in front of him, Greeneyes knows he can only assure Snowpath now with the chanting of his name - a warrior ceremony, for a true warrior.

His brother's final words are a confirmation - their mother is here. He doesn't think he feels her presence - doesn't remember if he had done, looking back on the moment - but she is there. A StarClan warrior, just as Snowpath is about to be. Watching. Just as Greeneyes does as Snowpath's golden gaze closes, as his form stills; as Snowpath reunites with Daisyflight, and Greeneyes is left losing another.
 

She had not been far from camp when she heard the sudden crash and felt the ground tremble beneath her paws. Without waiting for instruction from the patrol leader, Howlpaw darts back to camp, her heart filled with a sense of dread that something terrible has happened. She worries for her family and for her friends and sure enough when she bounds back into camp she sees that she was right.

The sound of grief-filled wails catches her attention, and her amber eyes are drawn to the downed tree, the collapsed nursery, and the one cat trapped beneath it. Snowpaw. No, Snowpath now if the shouts of her clanmates were anything to go by. A parting gift for a cat who had given his life to save others. Howlpaw does not know the full story of what happened but from what she can see she can put together a good picture of what had happened. "Snowpath! Snowpath!" Howlpaw calls out, joining her voice with those of the cats already shouting.

She and Snowpath had experienced a tumultuous relationship, forever tainted by his accidental killing of Morningpaw. For the longest time she had hated him, considered him a monster and a foul creature, and said some deplorable things to him. Over time the feelings had eased somewhat. They had never completely gone but Howlpaw had relaxed in her opinion of him. Although they hadn't truly become close, Howlpaw was glad that they had made amends recently, that they had been able to engage in polite conversation and that she had attempted to comfort him after Daisyflight's loss.

Howlpaw was glad that she got to say goodbye to him not as an enemy and murderer, but as a clanmate and something close to a friend.