SHO'S WALTZ [ ✦ ] fairy rings prompt

[Starlingheart]

It is hard to continue life as if so many of the clan, their own deputy included, didn't absolutely despise her. She had made a selfish choice, putting her own son above the others, but genuinely she had not believed that just one leaf would have made him better, would have saved him. Either way, she cannot change the past and can only hope that the future is kinder. To her and to ShadowClan. She is glad Magpiepaw is back now. No longer did she have to search for a warrior to venture out into the murky swamps with her, she could grab her apprentice and they could go together just the two of them, just like they used to. Today though, they tag along with a patrol. Just because they could go out on their own didn't mean they had to all the time and besides, the more eyes the better. "Today we-we're looking for marigold" she had informed them before departing. Most cats knew the herb, knew what it looked like. Or she would hope so considering she had used it on countless scratches and other wounds. "If you're not sure what something is t-tell me and I'll come look. Dont-dont touch a plant youre not completely certain of" she intructs, just in case. And like that they are off.

It is not long into their venture that a voice calls out to her. "Starlingheart! Come look at this!" and she does. White tipped paws lead her to the source of the voice, a clanmate standing over a ring of mushrooms, all perfectly in a circle. It's odd, to say the least "What do you think it is?" the cat asks and Starlingheart can do nothing but shake her head, uncertain. "I don't know" she admits freely, green eyes fixed on the ring in front of her. "Perhaps it would-it would be best to leave it be" or perhaps it was just a freak coincidence, one of those things in nature that just happened and no one could really explain why. Either way, she does not wish to chance it. "Have you ever suh-seen anything like this before?" she asks, turning to a clanmate who has come to stand next to her.

// @Magpiepaw this is a prompt thread! A lot of odd mushrooms begin to grow on the territory in circular formations, what do these odd rings mean and what should be done about them?

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[Magpiepaw]

—————————————————————⊰♰⊱————————————————————
He thinks of marigold and it reminds him of warm sunsets over mountain peaks, the glint of orange fur moving in his direction with his name shouted with the same timbre of worry and concern. Magpiepaw has not mentally left the mountains yet, it felt like, he finds his gaze drawn off into the distance at most times and his focus is as wavering and fragile as his steps; a jittering mess. He wonders how the rest of the journey cats fair now, had they returned triumph and met with warm faces or had they faced the almost disinterest and bother that he had come to find. Did they miss it? Did they miss him?
He wonders if they would mourn him if he died and finds he thinks they might moreso than his own clan even did - with the exception of his beloved mentor. Starlingheart was his saving grace, his reason for being, his only desire to return; when she calls he comes running, when she asks him anything he tries to give her his undivided attention. The dark apprentice can ignore the world around him so long as she was well and present.
His efforts to sniff out the flower are interuppted by nonsense, cats curious over something that surely didn't matter more than their task but he begrudgingly goes to join them and ponders the ring of mushrooms with some curiousity.
"...death circle." He murmurs, though his mentor was not asking him, he answers all the same. "...mushrooms grow on dead earth, something died here."
While his words had some degree of truth, the mushrooms liked dark and damp places and that was most of ShadowClan, he did not know for a fact if it was actually the reason why this ring appeared. He was just trying to scare the rest of the patrol. As was his norm...

————— ⸸ looks like the stars won't shine much longer ———— ⸸ so give me your hand

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Magpiepaw
  —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
  

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[FLINTWISH]

Starlingheart's son has also reaped the rewards of her choice. The bounty did not come as health alone, though; it was also tight-lipped glares and words staked through the heart; it was quivering in the topmost bones of the Burnt Sycamore. It was the weight of several cats piled upon him. Some days he wishes he could have been left to rot a little longer in that nest, and other days he is overwhelmed with his gratitude to just be alive, and all thanks to Starlingheart's decision.

Today she tags along with her mother's patrol in an attempt to pay some sort of penance for being alive. Her own scars (first scars, and from Granitepelt of all cats) had been dressed in marigold a few sunrises prior to this patrol, so maybe she can think of it less as a life-sized debt being repaid and more as simply restoring what she'd been given. Either way, he slinks through Starlingheart's shadow, loath to be far from her.

Magpiepaw is in her shadow though, too, and Flintpaw soon finds it is quite crowded, so he allows himself to explore. His dual-toned gaze searches the mire for flecks of stubborn gold. What he finds instead is mushrooms — and it seems he is not the only one. Ears twitch as a cat calls them all over to examine the eerie circle. Magpiepaw quickly deems it a death circle, and Flintpaw flinches; he has had quite enough of these ill omens. She shouldn't be afraid of death anymore, she thinks, and yet each time its portent pushes up through springy loam, whether it was a mushroom or a dancing light or a black feathered crow, she can't help the twinge that travels down her spine.

The fear quickly sublimes to irritation, though, as Flintpaw realizes the mushrooms are nothing to be afraid of. "Would you cut out that frog dung?" the stony apprentice hisses, swiping a white paw deftly against the soft fungus. It is unceremoniously batted away, nothing more than a mossball to a kit. Inexplicably, ice grips his stomach — but it passes as quickly as it comes. Flintpaw is determined not to read into it, despite the threads of worry knitting themselves together in the back of their brain. Something died here. Yeah, things couldn't stop dying in ShadowClan. Heavybranch, Halfshade, Stumpyspots, Sabletuft. Dead, dead, dead, dead.

Decisively, Flintpaw turns away from the circle. "It's just a bunch of stupid mushrooms." She returns her gaze to the mire underpaw, hoping to find some marigold and leave quickly.

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧ 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

• 

• 
  
  — flintkit . flintpaw
  — he / they / she ; apprentice of shadowclan
  — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — headshot by me, signature by dreamydoggo
  — penned by meghan

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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they can't say that they don't understand flintpaw's frustration. magpiepaw doesn't mean any harm by it, he's just speaking his mind as he often did, but flintpaw doesn't want to hear anything about death, and quickly says that nothing died. it's just mushrooms in an odd circle. they can only imagine how magpiepaw feels about flintpaw's outburst, but they couldn't exactly allow it, could they? their nose twitched as they looked at the mushrooms, twitching their ears back and forth.

"stars only know."

was all they could offer to the conversation. they didn't know what it was. who knew if magpiepaw was right? who knew if flintpaw was right? ultimately, it didn't matter.

"smogmaw would probably get some joy out of seeing it, though. he's always been a little odd about mushrooms, hasn't he?"
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[smogstar]

Mushrooms. Curious little conundrums they are. In no way can they be a plant—for plants are held upon stems and blossom foliage or flowers, and Smogmaw hasn't witnessed a mushroom do either. Mushrooms have flesh, too, which indicates to him that they are animal to some capacity. Yet, unlike frog, toad, pigeon, or snipe, mushrooms lay dormant in the moistest of darkest environments, their motives eluding him entirely. They merely do their own thing, unenlightened to the happenstance around them. Unbothered by social judgements, even though they're seen as eccentric. Perhaps this is why he idolises them to a certain extent.

Needless to say, witnessing them situated so peculiarly has him ecstatic. "It's not odd. Mushrooms are cool." The brusque response comes in the wake of his leader's assessment, which may not have risen from a malicious thoughtstream for all he knows. Nevertheless, it has him on the defensive in his honour's sake. "They're not stupid either, Flintpaw. Have a little bit of respect." Freakishly enough, the only one in the midst whom he feels solidarity with is the wiggly medicine cat apprentice, who showers them in his own morbid brand of appreciation.

Prudent pawsteps carry him to the cusp of the funghi loop, fondness glazing over his amber pools. "Look," he mews, his tone neutral. Stepping carefully into the clear centre, the deputy's haunches come to settle on the cold-touched grasses below. Regal in no capacity whatsoever, Smogmaw sits high and mighty in his mushroom throne. "I'm the mushroom king." ​

 

[EERIENIGHT]

In the list of things Eeriepaw cares about, marigold is probably near the bottom. He doesn't know much of its purpose, a lesson not meant for him.

Mushrooms are also on the lower end, he thinks. Fascinating, sure, but their presence around the marshes doesn't nearly hold as much interest to him as bones and spiders do. Until now, he supposes, as dark eyes look to the strange ring of fungi ahead, an arrangement all too precise, in comparison to others he's seen before. Odd.

"Death circle," he finds himself echoing Magpiepaw's explanation in contemplation. Something died, and of course it has. Death has only infested ShadowClan in the medicine apprentice's moons away, a warning call to the world's impending frost, no doubt. The upcoming end will be worse than last, the spindly tom is certain. "From the plague?"

Eyes dart to Flintpaw as the younger hisses, as he calls for an end to the discussion with what little authority the gray cat believes to have. Just stupid mushrooms, she cries, but Flintpaw doesn't know, doesn't know what's to come.

Smogmaw should, though the mushroom-loving deputy declares himself king, settles among the death circle with little apprehension to its meaning. The plague will get him, he almost warns the self-imposed royalty, though knows it already has, knows not to quell what ounce of happiness the deputy has in the ring.

"Congratulations," he says instead, gangly limbs dipping as he bows to the newly named Mushroom King. ​

 

[MURKYPAW]

while the apprentice knew nothing about herbs and plants, he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to see what his clanmates were talking about. "what is it? what are you guys talking about a "death circle"? what does that mean?" confusion would cross his face as he glanced between his clanmates in hopes that someone would be able to easily explain things to him. he didn't want to be left out the loop when everyone else seemed to understand what was going on.

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OOC NOTES . ◭ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  — open to minor/healing powerplay
  — murkypaw / shadowclan apprentice / masculine pronouns / tags
  

 

[Swansong]

( ☁︎ )　 "A death circle!" Swanpaw joins the chorus, perhaps a bit too interested in the prospect. He peers at the ring curiously. Something died here... He can't help but wonder what. A little parade of mushrooms marks the spot, a little ring standing vigil. "Oh, it's like a grave..." He murmurs, glancing to Murkypaw as he does so. It seems pretty self explanatory to him.

Oh, but just as interesting... Swanpaw's known of his father's interest in mushrooms, but seeing him having fun like this (even as his tone is as flat as ever) lifts Swanpaw's spirits. "Ah!" he exclaims softly, leaning forwards. "Would that make me..." He pauses. "The mushroom... prince?" Hm. "Um. Mushroom heir... to the mushroom throne...?" Technically Applepaw should be the heir, as the oldest, but he doubts she's interested. He could take much better care of this death circle.

I WANNA BE HAUNTED ☁︎ I WANNA BE LOVED ! 【 11.22.23 】

• //
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• "SPEECH"

• ☾ 　⁺　₊ 　⋆　SWANPAW.　APPRENTICE OF SHADOWCLAN.　HE / HIM / HIS.
  8 MOONS & AGES ON THE 17TH.　PENNED BY SATURNID.
  
  

  

  ☾ — A PALE, ELEGANT CREAM TABBY WITH PERIWINKLE BLUE EYES.

  
  HALFSHADE xx SMOGMAW. LITTERMATE TO APPLEPAW GARLICPAW & ASHENPAW. OLDER SIBLING TO THORNKIT HALFKIT TANGLEKIT & DREAMKIT.​

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