SONG FOR THE DEAD ↷ [ chilled & starling ]

[smogstar]

Whenever he takes a pawstep, he heaves. Every heave instigates a painful pulsation throughout his hindparts. This goes to mould a comfortless cycle of recurrent pain for the deputy, who trudges across the breadth of camp with a grueling stride. Half-lidded eyes orient towards the oak tree's gnarled roots, under which awaits his destination, as well as his leader. There's not a lone mannerly thought about Chilledstar in his mind as he verged on their dingy little hole. They had ordered him there with a tongue forked and motivations irregular—their brazen, vulgarity-laden demands were purely baffling to him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

With the medicine cat at his side, Smogmaw ducks beneath the low-hanging branches to reach the shadowy threshold of Chilledstar's den. The sound of his ragged breathing resounds off the earthy walls, and he braces himself for any further umbrage from their jaws. "I'm here," coughs up the deputy, in defiance of his reservations about it. He should be standing at the mouth of camp, encircled by clanmates, feeding into their venomous ire. He will not forget this setback. He coughs again, his lungs feeling as though they were filled with stones; the trek back from the border was beginning to take a toll on him.

"Is there a reason, - cough - Chilledstar, why you've withdrawn to the shadows like a frightened kit?" Smogmaw wheezes out, seeking to balance out the pain in his voice with sarcasm. Given their temperament today, he knows not whether they will appreciate the gesture. He puts it forward nonetheless, tail thrashing against Starlingheart's flank, confident that his leader won't extend their contempt unto him.

// @CHILLEDSTAR. @STARLINGHEART . ​

 

[Starlingheart]

Starlingheart follows Smogmaw without any hesitation, close on his heels though her heart thudded loudly with every step. Could they hear it? She wonders to herself and she hopes not. It would betray how nervous this impromptu meeting made her feel. Before she knows it they are in the den, though Smogmaw struggled to get there. She makes a mental note to herself to give him dandelion later to help with the pain.

She takes her place, sinking as far into the shadows as she possibly can. This felt like a meeting best left to the adults, but she supposed that’s practically her now. She was almost warrior-aged, after all. She wants to excuse herself but something tells her that it would be best if she stayed so she pulls her tail across her paws, draws it closer to her body.

Finally, Smogmaw speaks and Starlingheart turns her attention to Chilledstar, wondering how they would react to be spoken to in such a manner. Her brother would have lost it, she knows that much and she waits for it now from them.

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

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

---

chilledstar's ears twitched at the very wheeze coming from their deputy. they don't even turn to look at his pathetically battered form. the only reason they've even invited starlingheart was not only to heal smogmaw, but to prevent him from being injured further. he speaks again, croaking out an insult that gets them to turn around to face them, their face twisted in an anger that hasn't been seen in so long. he was testing their patience, and chilledstar had no time for these games. for him to disrespect them was enough for them to want to gut him– but they held themself. killing their deputy would not be a good look, now would it? their jaw parts, tongue slithering over their bi-colored muzzle, their gaze lowering to fully take in the extent of his injuries. pathetic. their inner voice replies and they only agree in silence.

"would you rather me broadcast your failures, smogmaw? I can do that for you. go on. limp out there and show them all how your own idiotic escapades have gotten you nothing but another scar to litter your pelt."

they snort, tail lashing back and forth behind them.

"you've lost your mind. I don't care who you think you are, smogmaw. you are my deputy of my clan. an honor. not a right. a damned privilege. I can take it away as fast as I gave it. this is your first and only warning."

chilledstar's ears pinned back with frustration, taking a moment to calm themself. they needed to calm down, before they furthered their anger. any more anger, and they would find themself without a deputy.

"I need to know everything. who attacked you, and why? i cannot exact revenge if i dont know who struck you in thr first place."
​

 

[smogstar]

Chilledstar's tone is reminiscent of claws against ice. Grating, unpleasant, like a sound which pierces the ears and sets one's teeth on edge. In contrast to their namesake, the leader's response burns with a vivid displeasure. They chastise him for his quip, latching onto it to justify the threat they utter thereafter. Only with great difficulty can Smogmaw believe what he hears. His focus departs from the pain for a fleeting moment and emphasises the gravity of the situation at hand. The snow-swept feline's anger is palpable, yet so is their desperation. Their composure has seemingly withered away to a wilt. They treat him with comparable disdain to his clanmates, and the deputy cannot help but feel that it is some peculiar bid to maintain an authoritative facade.

He straightens up under the weight of their words. At the time of her attempt on his life, Smogmaw was so imbued with raw alarm that it'd felt unnatural. The same cannot be said as he faces Chilledstar's threats. If they so dare lay a claw on him after mocking him, while he was already fraught with an injury, there would be little stopping him from culling them right then and there. The clan would be his, after all, which made the notion a rather delicious one. Although he bore no intention of committing such outward treason, knowing it exists as a possible alternative enables him to shrug off the burden of their challenges. There are other concerns to prioritise, anyhow.

Before the deputy speaks, he imparts a sidelong glance on the medicine cat beside him.

"Do not treat me as an enemy, Chilledstar," implores the tom, whiskers atwitch with a note of urgency. "Taunts do not come at the detriment of the clan, but oppressive rule will. Surely." He must begrudgingly leave it at that. Smogmaw wishes to ask of them to think rationally, to not be so blinded by their own emotion, but he fears doing so would come with a cost. He huffs, allowing a long-drawn-out sigh to sever the tension within his mind.

A clear image of the day's earlier going-ons is conjured in his psyche. It's nigh on refreshing to draw attention to the attack once again. "I was at the border," he says. "My presence attracted them like flies. Sootstar, and a small patrol accompanying her, verged on the perimetre of their territory. She was quick to initiate dialogue, though her words were brief." The mental likeness of her ashen fur instils a deep-seated anger within him. Her beautiful pelt would look better in tatters on the forest floor. "She accused us, ShadowClan, of conspiring with WindClan's enemies," the tom drawls on. His manner of speaking is precise, calculated. "Perhaps it is because of RiverClan and SkyClan's alliance, and she already feared war from them. Whatever the case, her attack came too fast, and I wasn't expecting her to cross into our land to do it. She'd went for my throat—she'd wanted to kill me."​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

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

---

"learn to watch your tongue a little more carefully. i chose you for a reason. don't make me regret it. we are a team, before anything. but if you wish to insult me– I do not take kindly to it. remember that."

with a lash, they are finished with that portion of the conversation. they did not wish to waste any more anger on such squabbles when clearly there was something else that was more important. they listen to his words, icy gaze somehow engulfed in flames. they draw their tongue over their muzzle once more, before they grunt with a nod.

"as sorry as I am that it was at your expense, I am glad she has finally given me a reason to tear my claws through her pelt. she needs to be knocked off her throne, and I have been waiting to taste her blood for a very long time. they will not get away with this. she has made enemies with the wrong clan."

they speak as calm as they can muster, ears twitching with a snort.

"do tell, and then I will allow you to rest. how do you wish to proceed? the night works in our favor. but I am listening to your suggestions here."

they didn't want to say they were giving him power over a decision because they weren't. but what kind of leader would they be if they didn't listen to their deputy for a moment. they were sure his mind was binging with ideas and different ways to skin the moor runners, and chilledstar had their own. they'd figure it out.
​

 

[smogstar]

A long-lasting exhale would drag from his nostrils. Though their severity has ebbed, his leader pursues in their scolding. They've made it crystal clear that they will not tolerate anything said out of line, but harking back to his return to the camp, it would seem their line is vaguely defined. Nevertheless, Smogmaw inscribes a mental note about future self-conduct for when he stood in their presence. If they demand praise, and praise alone, then it's what they shall receive.

The tom forces a smile as enthusiasm engulfs the pressure in Chilledstar's voice. As this shared antipathy emerges, it effectively severs the tension in the air and allows room for easy breathing. Shoulders slacken, his posture mellows out, and Smomaw sighs in tandem with his leader's question. Now, they're beginning to resemble a team. "We cannot overwhelm WindClan in battle, their numbers and territory defenses are too strong," he explains, not so much in an authoritative fashion but a clinical one. "What you must do is outmaneuver Sootstar's lies at the next coming gathering. She will likely force the blame of what happened onto me, but your credibility outweighs hers."

The corners of his maw coil further inward, then. The mechanisms of this stratagem begin to turn once more. "WindClan has exposed their belly by doing this," he explains. "The ending of our alliance means her enemies are aware that we won't come to their defence. Now that we have been added to the growing list of those who seek revenge, we can use this to our benefit." His tail flings outward once again, colliding with Starlingheart once again, and a sidelong glance is offered toward her once again. "Rally support from the other clans," the deputy says. "isolate WindClan's position. They are surrounded by enemies now, and so you must make it known."

His gaze then orients to the den's exit, envisioning the faces of his clanmates in the camp beyond. "In the meantime, we must foster our strength, show unity to our clanmates, and refuse to let down our guard."​