pafp SO LONG AS THE STARS EXIST \ death musings

[BLAZESTAR]

His son had settled the oldest cats among them in the elders' den and had brought them fresh-kill. The bedding within the den is stale but unused. Earthsoul's scent is faint; as the tom ages, it seems to Blazestar he is visiting camp less and less. He had seen a black-furred she-cat and the patch-pelted tom, but he does not know if there are others who need to be settled comfortably that he has missed.

He greets both elders with a "mrrow," focusing on the tom. "I hope Fireflypaw has taken good care of you?" He flicks a golden ear and settles his bulk beside the other cat. Observation tells him this cat has been through countless trials; scars litter his pelt, and only a single sunshine-yellow eye stares back at him. "Were you... did you have housefolk, before this? Or did you live in the Twolegplace alone?"

Blazestar begins to gnaw on the pigeon he'd brought over for himself, but the first bite he swallows has him musing again. "The Twolegplace is dangerous even for a young, spry cat." His dark blue eyes glow in the dim afternoon sun filtering through the den. "Surely you don't have plans to return?"

// please wait for @M. MOUSER ​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[M. MOUSER]

It is good to have company again. After so many moons of life in this cage, or with only the touch of twolegs, the bustling of SkyClan's camp feels like a long-forgotten familiarity. Something he has never known in life, but yearned for at each turn. A colony. A home. The elder has taken to the den easily enough, claiming a nest after careful consideration of his options. It doesn't smell right just yet, and is not as soft as the blankets they had given him, but with time and use he is sure it will become as comfortable as a cloud. Any place at all that he had to rest was greeted with a sinking gratefulness. His head rests against his paws and stiff muscles loosen some. It is quiet here. Almost too much so, and Mouser is grateful for Blazestar's presence then.

He answers the great tom's greeting with a blink and a flick of his tail, which looks more like a wag in its mangled state. "I did. When I was younger, and more...intact." Though there is an inescapable sadness to that word, Mouser says it with the dry amusement of one well-accustomed to saying it. "My first twolegs loved me dearly. The second..." Here, the elder hesitates. "For a while, they did. For a while." Looking down upon the pigeon that Blazestar eats, a curiosity begins to set upon him. It had been some time since he ate anything fresh. Carrion and twoleg handouts had kept his belly full before the shelter, and after– well, he hadn't needed to worry for anything on that front. They had fed him well.

Now it would seem it's time to readjust. Mouser takes a bite of the, quite aptly assigned, mouse he had been given, and wills himself to understand the taste of it as he muses on the rest of his story. "I was hit by one of their twoleg beasts, after they stopped letting me inside. I don't think I could risk it again now that they have had a taste of me."

˗ˏˋ《  OOC 05.06.2023 》´ˎ˗

• 
  ooc: —
• 
  ──── monsieur mouser, casually known as mouser.
  ──── elderly shelter cat. dmab male, and neutered.
  ancient as he is, life alone is a miracle for mouser. but when one takes in the extent of his scars, it becomes even more so. his dark, silvery-tinged fur is broken up by heavy scarring along his back leg and tail, with one bright yellow eye turned glossy with blindness.
• "speech"

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[sarsaparilla]

He has not been here long, but much of what he's seen thus far has eased his nerves. They care for their elderly, provide them with fresh moss and meals; they are not an invisible people as they were in the alleys. There were few who lived to be a considerable age in the Swarm's territory, and those who did were...wasting away, ignored for their weakness, for their uncomfortable reminder of what waits for strong warriors. There was only so much Sarsaparilla could do for their frail figures when he wasn't with the Swarm willingly, and SkyClan is a breath of fresh air he didn't know he was looking for.

Easy compassion, habitual— as it should be everywhere.

"Twolegs can be so unpredictable," he says, and immediately feels wrong-footed for intruding on the pair, eating together as they are. He could excuse himself, but the rabbit has left the burrow, so they say. "But— sorry? Did you say a taste of you?"

He grimaces, looking briefly to...ah...Blazestar, isn't it? Sass should remember his name, seeing as he's the man at the top and presumably responsible for their rescue, in part. "I never thought of them as prowling around in the shadows, hungry for cat-flesh. Until now, that is. I wasn't planning on sleeping anyway; no harm done, " He coughs and clears his throat before asking Mouser, "Are you comfortable here?"

.ೃ࿐ OOC INFORMATION

• —
• sarsaparilla (sass) °●° cisgender male, he/him °●° skyclan warrior
  around 46 moons old °●° profoundly, catastrophically homosexual
  former kittypet and loner °●° head over ass over heels for avilius
  
  sass does not make for a very striking figure. he's rather plain in appearance, a cream and white tabby with clear, gray-blue eyes and freckled cheeks. he's taller than average, but doesn't tower, and lacks the muscle mass to be considered broad. he fades easily into the background and prefers it that way.
  

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[SLATE]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Slate is similar to Mouser in the way that clan life is something so foreign and unknown to him, especially after a near-lifetime of dwelling in the dark alleyways. The former rogue had been uncertain about living in one of these groups at first, having known them to be territorial nuisances who called themselves "wild cats" and fought with outsiders like him. However, after being in survival mode for so long and especially after being trapped in the shelter for a moon, Slate now knows what lifestyle he prefers. He wouldn't say that he's great at being a clan cat, and even calling himself such feels wrong still, but he would try (if not for himself, then for his brother).

The Maine Coon hadn't planned on spending time near the elder's den — he never really did; Slate always figured that elders were cranky and tick-infested with no desire to interact with younger cats like him. However, his torn ear hones in on an ongoing conversation between Blazestar and a few others; talks of monsters, of living with twolegs, of being cast aside by them. Slate knew this tale all too well; even as a kit, he had learned to stay far away from twolegs as they were selfish and domineering creatures. "They pick and choose their affections. One day you're the center of their attention, next day you're as good as garbage." The tom, who typically kept to himself, speaks up gruffly.

He cannot help but let his gaze roam over the elder's extensive scarring. Slate thought that his mug was pretty fucked up, but this guy definitely outdoes him in that aspect. He had been nearly trampled by a monster once as a kit; for a moment, Slate is thankful that he hadn't. "You're better off here." SkyClan didn't toss cats aside for being "unloveable", too old or too frail to serve any purpose. On the streets, it was a damn miracle if you surpassed a certain age and survived, but it was a lot easier for other ferals to overtake your turf and steal your prey. In SkyClan, elders were respected equally—even more than the average warrior. This man would do just fine here, Slate thinks. Certainly better than rotting away behind a window or metal bars.​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

tw: slightly graphic description of blazestar's first death

Blazestar knows his relationship with Twolegs will forever be altered by what they had done to his Clan. His experience as a kittypet had been unlike Slate's, unlike Mouser's -- he'd been loved and pampered until he had chosen to leave for literal and figurative greener grasses. But they had stolen into his Clan's territory, taken his warriors, his daughter. They had killed Daisyflight.

Perhaps they are more like cats than he'd ever considered before. There are cats like Howlingstar, and cats like Sootstar. There are cats like Thistleback, and there are cats like Kuiper. He should expect complexity, and yet he'd never truly considered it.

Mouser tells him and the cats who have drawn near for conversation that he'd been hit by a 'Twoleg beast.' Blazestar furrows his brow until he understands what the older tom means. "A monster," he says. A shudder he can't repress tears through him. "I was hit by one, too, except... it was moving so slowly. I don't think it saw me at all." He can still recall the snap of his bones beneath the awful creature's weight, the way the breath had been stolen from his body in a scarlet flash of agony. "I lost my first life that way."

He turns to the pale tom who comes closer. Blazestar greets both him and Slate with a dip of the head. "This is the first I've known of them to steal into the forest and Twolegplace to hunt cats," he agrees grimly. "I lived with Twolegs my entire life before SkyClan, and they were the gentlest, kindest creatures I've ever known."

But Daisyflight had been killed by one. None of the cats he's met so far seems to know exactly how, or why, but he's heard the same horrific story, about her being taken away, spitting and fighting, and never returning.

Slate's story, he knows, and Blazestar feels a familiar pang of sympathy for the hulking dark warrior. "They pick and choose their affections." His housefolk had not, but perhaps it would be different if he'd become mangled or disfigured in some way, less attractive. He couldn't know. "Too many cats I've met have told a similar story," he muses, shaking his head. "I've died to a fox's fangs and to an enemy warrior's claws, but the death I suffered in the Twolegplace...[/glow" He flinches again at the memory, unable to shake it now that he's resurrected it, "...it's the cruelest death I've known so far."​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[Fireflyglow]

"But you survived, pops." Fireflypaw chirrups as he wanders over, stumbling partially over his paws as he joins the group of warriors. His eyes flutter for a moment, well-kept emotions in hand, before he leans into his father's side for comfort. He was so much taller than Fireflypaw, and Fi was.. Impressively big. His ears swivel as Slate talks about twolegs leaving behind their cats; not caring enough one moment then caring the next. He wanted to believe twolegs weren't so cruel, but this recent events has him doubting his own thoughts. He strays from his father's side no sooner than he arrived, nose prodding Mouser's shoulder in greeting. His legs unwind beneath him, sliding him downwards until his legs were sprawled out beneath him. It takes a moment for him to pull himself together, tucking his paws beneath himself until he was a big ball of fluff next to the elder.

"No achin' joints? We've got medicine for that, just in case." He offers softly, blind gaze staring wide-eyed in the distance as he spoke. He finds cats tend to be nervous with his hard stare. ​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 10 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Dawnglare skates around them purposefully, Blazestar's presence enough to singe him from a distance, jolting as he unconsciously flinches from the burning flames. He is sorry as ever, the few around them taking up similar dispositions as if it were contagious. The mews between them are somewhat - solemn. The hulking black warrior is quick to revel in their misguided dislikes. Twoleg's were nothing but brainless. To dedicate so much to hating them would be like wishing for painful death upon an insect.

He would not forget the lifelessness in Blazestar's eyes on that faithful day, reduced to roadkill beneath a monster's oily paws. Dawnglare had always known he would come back, but that does not mean that he would forget. Six left. He stares at the group, unblinking.

" He did not, " the correction is pinched out between sharp teeth. He cannot help but glower at Firefly's form pressed to his father. Not far from mirror images, now were they? Dawnglare chokes on the insecurity wriggling in his throat like a horrific insect swallowed whole. Did he hate him now? Was that it? Would Firefly choose him now, over his mentor? Blue eyes blow frantic for a moment, but soon narrow into slits thereafter. " Living again does not mean survival, " Dawnglare grates. He levels a tight - lipped stare at Blazestar before trudging away, muttering beneath stilted breaths.​