sensitive topics SLOWLY SPILLING OUT [ ❀༉ ] RETURN WITH NEWS


The walk back to camp is nothing more than a blur in her lone eye. She looks forward while she walks, but her gaze is glazed over, far away and distant. The usually bright medicine cat an unpolished, dulled down version of herself. How is it possible to have experienced so much agonizing loss in a life so short? Her mother, her brother, her friends, her children and now her apprentice. No one she cared about was safe from whatever curse surely plagued her. She is thankful, at least, for the patrol that accompanies her back to their hollow. Without them she would be untethered, no doubt still sitting by the thunderpath, losing hours to her grief as she waits for him to return just like she had done when he had stayed behind with those injured on the journey.

When finally they make it home, her first instinct is to head straight for her den and collapse into herself in private. But the idea of that cavernous space, made so much emptier by Magpiepaw's absence, makes her sway on her paws. Her paws. Stars. Her solitary gaze flickers downwards to discover red still staining the white. Blood. His blood. She can hear the murmur of clanmates as they begin to take notice of the somber patrol, of the state of their medicine cat. She can see it in their eyes as they take stock of the patrol and begin to put the pieces together. "Magpiepaw is gone" she chokes the words out before anyone else can. The news was her burden, after all. He had been her apprentice. "He was- he was struck by a monster and then taken. I do not know if he's coming back" Deadpan. She barely recognizes the voice that comes from her own lips. She feels disconnected, like a bird with no wings.

// This thread takes place immediately after this one
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    STARLINGHEART SHADOWCLAN MEDICINE CAT; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO PITCHSTAR, CHITTERTONGUE, NIGHTSWARM, SKUNKTAIL, AND LILACFUR. MOTHER TO NETTLEPAW, FLINTPAW AND GHOSTPAW.
    A skinny she cat with short black and white fur littered with scars and one singular green eye.
    Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
 

[ ༻❄༺ ] Seeing Starlingheart in such a state was worrying, but she knew the medicine cat was grieving. She had lost someone important to her, and she could tell by the faces on those who had been close to Magpiepaw as well were going through it. The way Starlingheart looks like she wasn't here was rough too, and coming back to camp to allow Starlingheart tell the news of her apprentice never coming back made Snowpaw wince slightly.

She wanted to reach out and tell Starlingheart everything will be okay but, now wasn't the time. The other needed to rest and be allowed to grieve. So the apprentice will stay silent for now, watching the clan grieve for the loss of someone who was important to the clan. Perhaps later she'll bring something for Starlingheart to eat...she'll need it, and surely the medicine cat wouldn't mind the company either in this time of grieving.

  • "speak""Thoughts"
  • Snowpaw She/Her, apprentice of Shadowclan, 8 moons.
    Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
    Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
    see battle info here
    penned by Ryn@/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 


Smogmaw did not participate in that particular patrol. His shadow-scribed hide kept to the hollow's confines throughout the ordeal, chipper as a chipmunk with his belly full. His mind had run over a hundred questions and hypotheticals, which he pondered with great interest as he roamed the camp. Although he never quite reached any clear-cut answers, the process itself was usually more interesting than the outcomes. But, when Starlingheart returned to camp with grief painted vividly over her face, and the patrol heralds news of an outcome opposite to anything he'd expected, the shock rooted his fur to his frame.

"Magpiepaw, gone," he recites, working to absorb the absurd and horrid revelation on his advance. Assertive strides lead him toward the breakage in the pines, where the medicine cat and the rest of the patrol spilt into the clearing. The first inclination, as it is so often, is to double-check what is being insisted upon; a second patrol to verify the account, a second opinion from someone else. But grief is solemn and steadfast, and the grief so present within his clanmates' eyes serves to validate everything.

Gone. That dubious limbo between dead and home, where a proper burial is impossible, and the body too far away to know his true fate.

Doubt dissipates, as a sigh might after a long day. Gently, softly, it fades into nothingness as quickly as it emerged, in its stead a growing resolve. "The medicine cat's apprentice is no more, then," he says, a nudge louder than his earlier murmur. Shortly thereafter, he is addressing everyone in close proximity. "You've all earned a short rest, so take some time to collect yourselves."

For the moment, he wills it upon himself to remain ignorant on how terrible a loss this was for the clan. Time will offer a later chance to reflect upon what has happened.

// fetching @CHILLEDSTAR.

 
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All the things the marshlands can give to them can be taken just as — if not more — easily. The days of a filled fresh-kill pile and bellies are not behind them yet, but such blessings have come with a curse following closely behind, and now-

Now this.

Mirepurr knows something is wrong before Starlingheart opens her mouth. Her gaze betrays she is not quite here, no doubt reliving what she had just witnessed over and over, like a broken record that insists on punishing. There's blood staining the whitest parts of her paws, serving only to confuse further still.

Her grief-stricken voice says enough. It's not the full picture, but it's more than enough details. Mirepurr can only imagine the shock that's pulling Starlingheart down right now, not at all close in severity to the pained gasp that comes from their own maw.

"Starlingheart, I-" they start, moving closer, then stop, both the talking and the movement. What is there to say? I'm sorry? There is nothing those words can do to fix this. Vaguely, they're aware of Smogmaw walking past them to deliver the news to Chilledstar. To be made aware of yet another tragedy. "You should rest," they opt to say instead, useless.

There's no amount of rest that could release ShadowClan of this tragedy.



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  • MIREPURR SHADOWCLAN WARRIOR
    ────── THEY/THEM ✦ PENNED BY KARMEN ✦ 04/15
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*+:。.。 Duckshimmer can't help herself - she scowls at Smogmaw as he takes his leave. His presence reminds her of a rain cloud, depositing its heavy, freezing rain upon the downtrodden before resuming its climb through the atmosphere without a second thought. No, it's not the rain's fault, much as it can't be Smogmaw's for simply doing his job but...damn it all, she will curse nature and fate and all the intricacies that weave the past and its continuing future until her breath is gone and her tongue dry! Damn you!.
Again and again, Starlingheart is left behind. Her mate, her kits, and now her own apprentice. Magpiepaw hadn't even earned his full medicine cat name yet. She wants desperately to pad up to Starlingheart's side and tell her - he's missing right? Now dead? He may find his way back! But what right does she have to tempt fate with hope so fragile? Shaking her head, Duckshimmer walks up behind Mirepurr.
"I'm so sorry, Starlingheart" she whispers her sympathies, much like Mirepurr - Duckshimmer knows not what to say at a time so devastating. "Do you need anything, my dear? Any way I can help?" she asks, the offers feeling weak on her tongue as what else could Starlingheart need but the power of Starclan? Shaking her head, she aims to brush her shoulder against the medicine cat's, a comforting gesture.




  • GENERAL:
    Duckshimmer
    DFAB— She/Her — Bisexual
    30 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Mother to Singepaw, Swallowpaw and Sneezepaw
    Shadowclan — Warrior



    COMBAT:
    Physically hard | mentally hard
    Attack in bold #ffa98f
    injuries: None currently
 
When Starlingheart returns home, she's swaying on her feet. Her eye is clouded, paws bloodied. It reminds her of when she'd returned after what Granitepelt did to her, save for the ability to stand. There's a somber look plastered on the mugs of those that crowd her. In this wasteland— things always happened. Happened, happened, happened, and kept happening, no matter how much they prayed over their warty prey. Sharpshadow is accustomed to giving a quick glimpse to any patrol that returns. Here, she double takes. Magpiepaw is gone.

Magpiepaw, that she remembers tumbling out from Carrionplace. Magpiepaw, whom she remembers pouncing on her tail. Magpiepaw, who'd strayed far, far from home despite his wobbling steps; who recognized the patches of Lungwort; who came home with the rest of them, even when the likes of Honeyjaw hadn't.

He deserves a lot more than the dumb, " Huh? " that leaves his mouth.

Sharpshadow rushes to meet the gaze of Smogmaw. She hesitates, when she believes she sees the deputy, before that cat who'd journeyed with them both. For a little while, Sharpshadow allows her face to be loose with sadness, rather than crumpled in frustration. Her shoulders slacken in a posture thats far from Lead - Warrior - like; or perhaps just plain Warrior - like, at all.

" A monster, " she echoes aimlessly. A monster, the same way Briarstar had gone. With how he had so resembled Starlingheart, Sharpshadow often found himself forgetting that they were not kin. He had just been a strange scrap from the dump, after all.

She does not worry about Starlingheart, or those that flanked her as she returned. She wonders about Magpiepaw. She wonders if their death had been quick, or slow and painful, at a twolegs paws. Without another word, he lowers his head in mourning.
 
ABANDON ALL YOUR STUPID DREAMS
ABOUT THE GIRL I COULD HAVE BEEN, MY DEAR
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maggotfur 18 moons female she/her shadowclan warrior
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The girl is utterly silent - a tall blue-and-white shadow hovering behind the medicine cat, reluctant to leave the side of a she-cat she'd otherwise hardly speak two words to. The loss has hit the patrol hard - tears stains still streak pale cheeks even now, the effect of her permanent glare ruined by her pitiful appearance. She's never been an emotional cat, but even she is not made of stone - no, starclan saw fit to make her of flesh and bone like everyone else, and stars does her grief hurt. She hardly feels like she's there - that this is real at all - but she's certain that no nightmare she could ever conceive of would be this bad. No, this was painfully real. Her best friend was gone. Dead probably. And she hadn't been been there. She'd been too far away, on her own patrol.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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A N D - I F - Y O U ' R E - B L I N D - T O - T H A T , I ' M - F I N E - W I T H - T H A T
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"StarClan does not look down on ShadowClan today..." Lilacfur sadly whispered to herself. Magpiepaw, gone just the same as Roosterstrut. The same as Rosemire. A sadness met the mollies eyes that could not be shaken, not even for the sake of some sort of optimism to comfort her Clan.

"We lost Sweetpaw while you were out, as well. There was nothing that could be done." A horrible twist of the knife, Lilacfur feared what else may come as the day reared to an end. Both toms had been so close to earning their full potential, granted their names to praise in the stars. At least Sweetpaw is joined with Nettlepaw among their ancestors, though she feared what could come of the medicine cat apprentice. She had never seen a twoleg hunt with its monster before.

"Magpiepaw will be remembered for his loyalty to the Clan, for his stubborn determination no matter the odds. He walked beside the journey cats, kept them safe for the moons they were gone in lands never touched before." Lilacfur sighed as she dipped her head. Another night of sharing tongues. Another night fearing for the safety of an unknown fate.
[ i need the clouds to cover me ]