private soon may the wellerman come // sunstar

[cottonsprig]

Wolfsong's new proposed law had been accepted, however Cottonpaw had not properly understood what that meant until days had passed. It seemed too simple - her mentor was more often than not gifted the star-born dreams, and he would from henceforth share them with their leader. But... what if her dreams did not come from starlit skies? What if the shadows ate every bit of hope she had upon her visit, that the air swarmed her lungs, helped her in her struggle to breathe, introduced her to her father in his most foul state... what then?

She's already sat Sunstar down, likely interrupting a meal of his. Cottonpaw takes a few moments, perhaps too-long ones, while she tries to compile her thoughts. Eventually, she starts with what feels like the easiest. "Weaselclaw visited me. In my dreams..." she almost feels silly telling him this. She used to have nightmares of Sootstar staring at her from down the way, poised to kill yet never pouncing. But this dream was as tangible as those among the glittering fields. Her whiskers twitch as she continues, "It wasn't some... some night terror or apparition. It was him, in this horribly cold and dingy place. He..." Cottonpaw trails. To tell Sunstar of how her father brandished her emotions against her, harnessed the love she had for him and threw it back in her face... It feels childish. She omits for now, but decides that if Sunstar asks, she will relent.

"He says the stars have forsaken him. Him - and Sootstar. They do not walk in StarClan, Sunstar, they walk elsewhere. I didn't know there was an elsewhere...!?"​

 

[SUNNVAR]

He has grown to dislike each visit that his clan bears upon him. None of come with good news. Sootspot's demands, Scorchstreak's rage– he carries them both, for that is the duty he took with StarClan's blessing, but there is no pretending it does not weigh upon him. Cottonpaw is not a young kitten anymore. She is here with something on her mind and he waits for it with both reluctance and concern. (She is not a kit, but at times he sees her as one. The small ball of grey fur amidst her entangled brothers. Before all of this came crashing down upon them. He cannot help but wish to protect her from everything.)

What she speaks of. . . he knows that there is no saving her from this. Ocean eyes fixate unblinkingly upon Wolfsong's apprentice. Bit by bit they begin to widen. Every inch of him stills. A perfect statue of horror, and — understanding.

"A place that smells of rot and death, where Weaselclaw stalks like a skeleton of who he once was," he follows her explanation with one of his own, each word building slowly into something terrible and looming. She had seen it too. Not a nightmare, or a word from StarClan to frighten, to punish. It is almost a relief. If Weaselclaw is not of StarClan, perhaps he spoke without their guiding light. (Perhaps Wolfsong had not committed the crime that tabby strikes down upon him.) "What else did he say to you, Cottonpaw? This is important."

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) 〚 06.03 〛 🟒ᨒ

• ooc: —
• ↟ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆  ⋆̶̬́̀
  ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.
  
  
  
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.

• "speech"

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