sensitive topics SETTLE FOR A GHOST / death

[sweetnose]

The fledgling crow they'd been stalking, alerted at the last heartbeat to the SkyClanner by a snapped twig in their direction (another hunter, Sweetnose had assumed, taking chase after a different meal), had taken off in a squawking flutter. In the late hour, however, forest predators other than the Clan cats are alive. Sweetnose had barely noticed the owl until a pale shape had swooped upon her quarry, a gurgle cut off abruptly by the calico's annoyed exclamation.

"Hey! No! Get back here! That's mine!"

Sweetnose's hiss is accompanied by the rustle of leaves as they scurry to the next branch, the fleet-pawed ease of moons' practice granting them swifter passage than most. But they do not have wings, and as the owl carries the unfortunate crow into the night, they find themself at the side of a familiar dark tabby pelt within the boughs of pine.

"For StarClan's sake." She seethes, fur bristling, as the branch sways beneath their combined weights. Unused to the presence of another cat close by when so high up, Sweetnose is half distracted when she mews. "Practically had my claws in it. Any luck, Kitestorm?"

// please wait for @KITESTORM

encounter: 1 (predator. congrats sweet it's an owl)
tracking: 11 (finds prey, predator steals it)
prey quality: 19 (prey x3, gone in an instant</3)​

 

[KITESTORM]

✦​

The early arrival of frost was a variable that had not been planned. The early signs of a cruel Leafbare are at the forefront of Kitestorm's mind as they attempt to aid as much as possible in preparation for what is to come. In those few and far between moments where they're not drudging from one patrol to the next, there is the formulation of an idea- more concrete than ever before- germinating in the depths of their mind. Pruning makes room for new stronger growth, and potential for the clan to flourish in ways they may not with so many... wastes of space, extra mouths to feed. There's no rhyme or reason to what they're going to do, they serve as only the executioner and servant of a terrible purpose.

The pine bark is solid beneath Kitestorm's paws, a grounding force so far from the forest floor. Their breath catches in their lungs as they propel further up a tree neighboring Sweetnose's. Kitestorm scrambles upon a limb of the pine tree and peers through pine nettles at Sweetnose as an owl sweeps by and disappears into the darkness. Dim eyes widen at the sight of the predatory bird's presence, stirring hope in the chest of the dark tabby. The bird of prey is not their namesake, but is taken as a sign all the same. As an approval from higher powers that they're truly meant for such an undertaking.

The hunting patrol has scattered, a practice far more common as patrols scour the hostile forest for prey. It is normal for Kitestorm and Sweetnose to depart from patrols and in spite of Kitestorm's lack of hunting skills they're able to herd prey towards the calico or they watch quietly, learning from the better hunter. With an effortless jump, Kitestorm launches onto a branch beside Sweetnose's and then shinnies over to the one she is settled upon. Their claws sink into the tree, securing their pawhold as the branch sways. "No luck," they exhale.

Short ears fall back as the tabby hears the distraction, confusion in the calico's tone. The parasitic feeling of guilt winds its way through Kitestorm and they shake their head, attempting to erase the feeling. When they next speak their words catch, they'll betrays the dilemma Sweetnose is in. "...that owl was so... close to you..." The dark feline tiptoes forward, expertly inching forward on the branch. "In fact..." Kitestorm attempts to not notice any indication of more confusion or fear from Sweetnose as they herd her closer to the thinnest part of the branch, dipping downwards perilously under their combined weight.

"...in fact... it really scared you, didn't it?" Another half step forward and their muzzles are touching, so close Kitestorm is sure they can feel her terror. They sheathe their claws and reach a paw up, which they push into the center of Sweetnose's chest. Kitestorm must will themselves to ignore the sensation of a hammering heart but after a final swallow of the frigid air, Kitestorm gives a tiny nod and resigns to following through. There's no way Sweetnose could escape, the branch is too weak to jump from... besides, Kitestorm could easily catch up. Their dark paw flexes in her diluted fur and with an effortful shove Kitestorm sends their clanmate plummeting towards the forest floor. Eyelids flutter open and Kitestorm peers over to catch sight of the broken body of Sweetnose. I'm sorry.

══
They hastily make their descent, throwing themselves down to reach the warrior's side swiftly. It's obvious- from the angle of her neck and the blood staining her fur- that Sweetnose has died. "No, no, no... wake up! Somebody... help! Sweetnose..." It may be the loudest they've spoken since arriving to the forest, a strained yell for the patrol's attention. "An owl... it spooked Sweet... sh-she lost her balance." Kitestorm's teeth grit, their jaw painfully tense as they huddle close to their former friend. The dark tabby shudders as their body is racked with a shock response, the image of an owl coming too close to poor Sweetnose cementing itself in their mind. Their stomach flips and the trees seem to dance around them as blood seeps onto their paws and Kitestorm wrenches away, turning to dry heave. There was nothing for Kitestorm to do... the owl had been too close, a phantom in the night...

YOU'VE OPENED THE GATES ╔═══《✧》═══╗ NOW FACE THE OTHER SIDE

•  
• 
  KITESTORM
  — a black tabby with a small stature and compact muscles. they're perceptive & clever and very in touch with clanmates. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable. very soft spoken and careful with their words.
  ✧ 39, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC
  ✧ speech

• 

​

​

 

[sweetnose]

"Yeah, it ... was?" They're unprepared for the crowding of their personal space all of a sudden. The saccharine meow is so unlike Kitestorm. Had they been replaced by an evil lookalike when Sweetnose wasn't looking? The calico's neck fur spikes, confusion pinching their features, aquamarine eyes meeting sickly yellow. Something is wrong.

The branch dips under their shared weight, distributed incorrectly, and a glance down betrays the sheer height they're at. Hey, Kitestorm, Sweetnose realises, ears twitching backwards, this branch is a little small for both of us. Sweetnose has climbed enough trees to know that they need to back up to the trunk, and do it fast, before the creaking pine decides to shed the feline weight from its bough.

A gentle paw taps the thick fur on their chest, and Sweetnose looks back to find their denmate's muzzle is practically brushing her own. Surprise spikes through her, eyes so wide that Kitestorm would be able to see the ring of white around their edges. Confusion follows in its wake, a wicked combination that has the warrior's heart racing like rainfall.

"What?" They whisper, their final word a puzzled croak into the frosty night.

In the split second where Kitestorm's paw puts pressure on Sweetnose, gently tipping her sideways, they tense instinctively against the shove.

They could have lashed out. Could have pulled the dark tabby from the branches with her, wrested them both to their deaths. It wouldn't take much, bough precarious beneath them, no doubt swaying dangerously as Sweetnose falls from it. They'd have fallen to the cold earth below in a yowling, writhing tumble, and when they were both still, SkyClan would be saved from a serpent they hadn't even known was in their midst.

But she doesn't. In the end, Sweetnose doesn't have it in her to damn the other warrior like that. It costs her every remaining moon: and as her spirit makes unmet, horrified eye contact with her Clanmate - with her killer, who cannot see her newly shimmering fur - Sweetnose looses a mournful wail into the night.

// there is no evidence that kitestorm pushed sweetnose from the tree!

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

Hunting was miserable once the frost had crept across the ground... it was like every animal in the forest had known before the SkyClanners did and hidden themselves in the most remote places. No nooks or crannies had been overlooked and yet... nothing turned up. Anytime a clan-mate managed to get their paws on something, it both relieved them and made them feel guilty for their lack of helping... They hadn't caught anything in what felt like eons. What good were daylighters who couldn't feed their hungry friends?

They pad along, hearing somewhere in the distance the heavy sound of wing-beats... much too powerful to be a sparrow or something edible. More than likely a threat... Large ears sit forward to listen, trailing after the path with wary stare tilted towards the canopy. It isn't until there's sudden shouting that they peel away their hesitance, breaking into a run along the pine-needle littered grounds to find a new horror. Another good-bye.

Kitestorm huddles over Sweetnose's body... the unsettling twist in their neck a testament of finality. There was no fixing this... Edenberry couldn't do anything but hope the young warrior made their way to StarClan safely. "Sweetnose..." Their gut twists, lurching forward as the only witness to her death turns away with a heaved breath.

An owl.... lost their footing along the branches and fallen so awkwardly. They can imagine the sound of that snap... the hollow echo of a body hitting the ground. It makes their stomach churn, the smell of rot manifesting from their memory and making them sick. The blood feels like a heavy tide, starting at their toes... far too warm compared to the frigid earth. "Stars... Sweetnose," it's all they can do, to repeat their name, to cement its place in their head so it couldn't go forgotten. "Are... are you hurt?" Emerald pools flick up towards the crouching tabby, unable to scent any wounds on her over the reek of their own memory... the imprint of another body leaving room for this one to drape over.

Another to join the graveyard...

"Where'd the owl go? Is it going to come back?"

⟡₊ ⊹ i ll betray you like a man

• 
• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 18 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back
  -- color #728c69

​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

A yowl for help breaks the glassy silence of the frost-coated forest, summoning Doeblaze in an instant. She rustles her short tail against @BLOODY MARY's flank, aiming a regretful look at the now-vacant place where the vole she'd been stalking had been. It's long gone, her sudden startle doubtlessly spooking it if the stricken shout ringing through the craggy pine trunks hadn't already. Heaving a sigh that seems dug deep into her chest, she takes off at an easy lope, following first the echo fading amongst the trees and then the thin, familiar scent of coppery blood.

" Sweetnose ... " she echoes Edenberry unconsciously, gut twisting uncomfortably. Too old a paw at tragedy to cry, but not calloused enough that she can hide the sorrow in her voice, she slips between the pines to flank the young daylighter. It's nearing the time for them and Bloody Mary to leave ... not a good note for either to end the day on; in fact, she'd been planning to walk her apprentice to the border after she'd caught the damn vole. The beginning dregs of moonlight draw all their faces in sharp relief, death-masks of tragedy gathering around Sweetnose's sickly lolling neck. Doeblaze swallows thickly, clawing at the ground and leaving grooves in the dirt, testaments to her unrest.

" I'm sorry, Kitestorm. You shouldn't have had to see that, " she says, and means it. It's hardly a portent of good for the recently christened warrior, and she is sorry they had to watch helplessly as their Clanmate died a preventable death. She works herself through a few deep breaths, glancing at Edenberry, who does pose a valid question.

" Let's hope not. As if we weren't dealing with enough already ... " Doeblaze murmurs, flexing her claws in and out of the earth. What is their to be done about owls? They're as silent as the night, swooping with their waxen moonfaces in a way neither Sweetnose nor Kitestorm could have expected. " I don't know if we can exactly afford to call off all night hunting right now. " Her brow settles into a furrowed line of concern, kneading thoughtfully at the ground still. " I'll tell Orangestar once we've gotten her back to camp for the vigil. "

The vigil. Another one, and so soon ... Doeblaze sucks in a ragged sigh once more.

OOC : —

✦

​

 

[shrewflight.]

Just a little closer ... The chocolate tabby thought, paws stepping forward carefully to the bush bird that pecked and jumped around sporadically.

A scream.

It echoes the air, sending his heart racing as suddenly, the noise split and it was replaced by silence. An eery silence, one that rubberbanded his heart out of his chest, and his stomach could barely stop itself from wanting to get sick from the anxiety.

The bird was gone, but it was easily forgotten as he found his paws, though shaky, held more courage then him in the night. Olivine eyes held a soft glow, fear written all over his features as the breeze blowing and shaking frostbitten branches sent him jumping and tail pluming. Just the wind...

But it wasn't just the wind. As he approached the scene, his heart dropped. A sickening wrench of anxiety sent through him, paws finally finding their way of cowardness as they slowly stepped backwards.

Kitestorm stood over her, his features upset as he speaks of an owl knocking her free from the tree that seemed to wail with them on account of the gentle breeze.

But the sounds slowed as all he could hear was his own heartbeat. "Ill- ill-" he can barely talk, his voice barely a whisper, shaky. But Doeblaze speaks up, they can carry her- her bloody sickly still form. her body twisted unimaginably in death.


"I'm g-gon-na be-" and he trails off, before finishing his sentence. It wasn't as if a small cat like him could help carry her. And how reliable would he be carrying someone when he could barely carry himself right now? His heart hammered, his stomach twisting, and soon, he was away from the scene.

Out to frow up//

​

 

[Cloverjaw –]

FOR LIFE I GAMBLE LOVE
cloverjaw | 44 months | trans male | he/him | physically medium | mentally hard | attack in bold #cf9748

---

Even hunting at night, there's a sort of comfort in knowing he's safe. That, even with all of the obvious risks, Cloverjaw still is in Skyclan territory, and that alone lessens it just slightly. It's another reason, he thinks, that he'll forever be so loyal to the clan as a whole.

The scream cuts through the shrill air like it's meant to prove Cloverjaw wrong personally, and even then he doesn't think about it for too long, or the way it's scared his prey away. Wheeling around and heading straight for the source comes as easily as breathing, and the fur along his back rises at that familiar, metallic scent of blood. The source of it is just as sickening- Sweetnose's form, twisted and still, blood stained with their own fur and Kitestorm pressed against them.

It's not his first time seeing a corpse this fresh, and he's sure it won't be the last. Not even of a clanmate. Cloverjaw exhales- enough to signal his nerves- and glances at Doeblaze. "If nothing else, it'll be good to warn the clan." This can't happen again, he thinks. If there was an ideal world, it wouldn't have happened at all- but wishful thinking is much too late.

"I can help carry them back to camp." It's the least he could do, with how shaken the rest of the patrol is and his larger size.


​

​