private SHIPWRECKED — smokethroat

[BLAZESTAR]

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XXXXXSmokethroat has to act in Cicadastar’s stead, and it takes quite some time before the deputy has a moment to spend with SkyClan’s leader. Blazestar watches him give orders, his warriors nicked and injured, his kits traumatized, his own children cowering—and all the while, the Ragdoll wonders exactly what had transpired to cause such a horrific scene. He waits until RiverClan is as situated as they can be for the night before he invites the white-flecked deputy into his den. There’s only a measly jay for the two of them to share, but Blazestar offers his guest the first bite, his blue eyes the same gray-blue shade as he regards Smokethroat. “Please, go ahead.” He’ll wait for the tom to either refuse or take a bite before continuing.

XXXXX“…Tell me what happened to Cicadastar.” He shifts in his nest. “Cicadastar and I are hardly friends, but the tom was my ally once, and he has stuck his neck out for SkyClan before. I want to know he’s…” He hesitates, whiskers shaking briefly.

XXXXXHe pulls a feather from the bird with idly red-gold paws. “SkyClan has had trouble with rogues as well,” he admits. “None have been scented close to our camp, but it seems we’ve been… lucky.”

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[SMOKESTAR]

He has no appetite at all, an exhaustion dragging down his entire body and all he wants is to curl up in a ball and sleep in a dark corner somewhere - this feeling is only complicated by the overwhelming urge to go rushing back into their camp and find his mate, an urge he knows is a death sentence, an urge he knows will accomplish nothing but another body or bodies onto the pile. Smokethroat shakes his head slowly to the gesture to eat, but focuses on the questions. His description at the border left little to the imagination and he had only been able to utter it vaguely out of distress but now, somewhat calmer but still on edge, he finds he can speak a little more openly.
"...he stood against them, he seemed...desperate, I'm not sure he realized how outmatched we were." His mate had been somewhat off lately, he still thinks to their argument in the river and wonders if he should have tried hard to help him of his burden, done more, worked harder. "They swarmed him and then they-" He pauses only for a moment, breathless, seeing it again in his head - black, white, gray, red, black white gray....red. "Blazestar, they tore him apart...repeatedly, we couldn't get to him. The entire clan, my kits, watched him die...again and again. I don't know if he's...I don't know if..."
Would they let him go now that they won? Was Cicadastar lost? Would he never see him again? Would they have parted on sour terms, still on the edge of the argument with no resolution. Would StarClan grant him the chance to apologize for abandoning him, tell him he loved him. Smokethroat hoped.
All he could do was hope.
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[BLAZESTAR]

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XXXXXSmokethroat’s weary down to the marrow in his bones. Any cat could see it, and Blazestar cannot blame him; at he deputy’s silent refusal of the bird, Blazestar respectfully shoves it aside, unwilling to eat alone in front of another hungry warrior. Smokethroat’s story paints a dark picture lashed with scarlet: Cicadastar, in his bravery and rage, in his desire to defend RiverClan from being driven away again, had stood alone against the rogues.

XXXXX“Blazestar, they tore him apart… repeatedly, we couldn’t get to him. The entire Clan, my kits, watched him die… again and again. I don’t know if he’s… I don’t know if…” Smokethroat trails off, single eye blinking with exhaustion, voice rugged with pain. Blazestar’s body feels cold. “Great StarClan,” he murmurs, looking away. “They were so desperate they’d kill your leader more than once to drive you out.” Suddenly, his appetite, too, has diminished to nothing. He thinks of the kits trembling and crying, watching their leader—and for some of them, their sire—be torn to shreds in front of them. Warriors bleeding and defenseless, forced to face their ineptitude in the face of the rogues, unable to die for the Clan they’d sworn to defend.

XXXXXBlazestar is suddenly very glad he’d not heeded Silversmoke’s well-intentioned warnings. He exhales a long-held breath. “RiverClan is welcome to stay as long as needed, but… what is your plan now?” Blazestar’s gaze is round with sympathy. “We can share our territory, but I fear our warriors are hungry and weakened as well. This season has been… unkind as leafbare, in truth.” His own hollow expression can attest to that. “As much as I would like to offer SkyClan’s teeth and claws to help you reclaim your home, I fear for all of our safety if we so much as attempt it right now.”

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