camp Starlit — Starlight — Oh So Many Stars Tonight | Stargazing

The briskness of New-Leaf night air nips at her nose, an irritating feeling but after the warmth of the sun it is a bit more welcoming. The sun has slipped below the horizon for it's nightly slumber, the moon does not appear for it also seems to skip this night and leaves the night in utter darkness. There is no veil of soft moonlight to drench the land in an eerie silver and white, no light to guide someone's paws. The only light is now an array of stares that dance overhead. Most of the clan has returned to their nests for slumber, exhausted after a full day's work with the warmer weather greeting them.
A silhouetted shadow slides from the brambles of their temporary home, prowling stealthily into the clearing. She blends in fiercely with the night, her figure barely noticeable except for a pair of glowing green eyes that crane up to the sky. All is silent besides the distant roar of the gorge that fades into the background. She stills alone in the darkness as she watches the vast Indigo sky stretching before her like a carpet, twinkling stars decorating it in various shapes and patterns. With the moon gone, they shine even brighter than before. Something stirs within her, an invigorating feeling but it's also peaceful. Her heart swells as she watches them flicker overhead. A faint rustle takes her attention away from the sky for a moment, it seemed she wasn't the only one unable to sleep just yet. "Beautiful thing, isn't it?" She murmurs to them, a rhetorical question but she welcomed an answer nonetheless. "I wonder if all of our dead clanmates are up there." She ponders over StarClan, if these very stars were their loved ones that had moved on into a different life. Cindershade hardly thought about what happens after death, if there was anything. Did her soul go to this new world? Did she get to live carefree and happy with lost clan mates?
The rosetted molly suddenly feels small and a bit insignificant. She was only one cat—one warrior. This world was huge and spread as far as the eye could see. So many dangers in this life she's seen, but she couldn't deny the blissful moments too. It was a push and pull, likes the waves that lapped the river banks edge. Her nose takes in a deep inhale, fighting off the yawn that wants to escape her before exhaling soundly. She blinks slowly, sleep pricking at her vision. Perhaps she'd lay beneath the stars tonight, to sleep under an open sky and enjoy it till the sun slips back into the sky again. Her eyes grow heavy, about to drift off until a flash catches her eye.
Cindershade blinks as a shooting flash of white dances across the sky. She freezes in total surprise, watching a star leap from it's place and across until disappears before her very eyes. A rare sight, the beautiful thing. A soft smile hides within the shadows of her face, despite the pushing of her cheeks into the bottom of her eyes. So many things this world offered that was taken for granted. She secretly hopes this night would last forever. "Did you see that?" The molly whispers to her clan mate, awe filling her quiet voice as she speaks.

// Feel free to be the clan mate or come up to them. You're also welcome to see more shooting stars or point out constellations!:3
[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]
 

His relationship with StarClan was something of a mixed bag, he had not been present to witness their descent and cry for the battle to stop so long ago. He'd been aware of the fighting, but Moss had been sick and he had been hesitant to leave her side even for a moment; it was because of this he was there when she passed, missing the bloodshed entirely and so lost in his silent grief he had no idea what had occurred until the river king appeared to stake his claim on the area and bid all cats join him. At the time Smokethroat had still been called Ember, at the time he had been wary of this spotted tom who spoke so loosely and confidently every syllable sounded like a sickeningly sweet lie meant to entice but gradually he adapted and learned Cicadastar was honest at his core. He grew admiration then, was recognized for his skills and the sense of purpose that moment had instilled in him followed him to this day. No cat had ever looked upon him and thought 'yes, you are worth something' and he had never realized how much he craved that acceptance, that validation of his existence. He had sworn his loyalty then and there without so much as a moments pause, but he still did not understand StarClan. It wasn't until StarClan showed him in their cruelest way did he realize who they were, what they were, and what they were capable of?
Sometimes he closes his eyes and still sees the skewer running through the tom's neck, their leader going limp from the clearly fatal wound and lost to them as he demanded every cat flee for their lives. Smokethroat had felt nothing then, an emptiness he could not explain that was only filled on the phantom's return. Alive. Somehow. A miracle? A mystery? He believed StarClan existed then, wished they would stop proving it to him by taking from him so viciously at times; their point had already been made after all.
The shadow of a tom stalks forward, sleek black pelt only marred with the spotted white dappling near his face and underbelly, wished he could denote their purpose but had excepted long ago they were nothing but spots.
"Of course they are." Except Moss, a thought that pained him to this day. "When our time is done it would be folly to think we deserve anything less than a reward. To be buried and forgotten seems to cruel." He wondered about cats who didn't believe in StarClan, did they think it all simply stopped when they died? He could imagine no worse a fate than to be eternally trapped in nothing, to cease to be. Terrifying.
That one orange eye glinted, glanced upward to the flash of white streaking overhead and he marveled in silence at how swiftly it seemed to move; vanishing as quick as it came to be. "I was told those are cats ascending to StarClan. When they fly like that, someone was lost."
 
✧ WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE AWAKE?


it was new-leaf. Where all the prey returned. the prey pile had been stocked up well, no cat had problems. Fish was actually pretty good. The dark skies were flecked with white spots, dominating the dark universe above. The moon lay in the sky, large and glowing. A white scottish fold dragged herself into camp with a air of sadness. Fawnpaw had a tiring day, she was introduced to many new smells, scents by her clanmates, it was all so overwhelming. She shuddered as she sat outside the apprentice’s den, closing her eyes in dismay. Was she really a good apprentice? She couldn’t go back now, they’d look down on her. she gave a small sigh as she looked around the clearing. Everybody fitted in so well…like they were part of it. It was like she was a squirrel in a family of fish. She flattened her already folded ears, and looked around with her blue eyes.

Her blue hues rested on two warriors who she saw when she first joined. Smokethroat, was it? and cindershade? She twitched her nose and approached carefully, blinking. They seemed to be talking about ..dead clanmates? She inched closer then blinked as she padded up to them. "hello.. hope you don’t mind if I join you guys.." she murmured, as she sat down, curling her tail around her paws and flicking her ear. She looked up to the stars, gasping. Maybe there was something worth discovering here. In her house, she would never see the lights because her owners always kept her in at night. She could only see a little chunk of the night sky then. now she saw the whole thing with her own eyes. This was beautiful.
"speech"

  • .

  • FAWNPAW
    ー named for her soft features and heart
    ー。 cis female - she/her
    ー Cream tabby short furred cat with brown eyes
    ー Scottish fold x Japanese bobtail

  • hope you don’t mind fawn butting in!




 

Redpath's belief in Starclan was a little different than others. She believed it was just where cats go when they die, that they didn't quite have the omnipotent power most others thought they had. After all, it's called being put to rest, not put to work!

But seeing the beauty of the night sky, it was easy to believe otherwise. Twinkling stars dotted the dark expanse, reminding her of all those who have left them. Bittersweet maybe, but to think that one day she might be one of the stars people look at was oddly comforting.

A star shot across the sky, and Cindershade was first to point it out. "Ooohhh!"

She had never seen such a thing! What did it mean? Smokethroat had his theory, but it was kind of sad. She didn't want to think about who might have died somewhere, surrounded by grieving clanmates.

"Maybe a Starclan cat is just running!" She said. Surely they don't just sit there all day.

She looked to Fawnpaw with a smile. "Of course not! You're always welcome to join us." She said.

The more the merrier, right? The stars certainly don't mind.
 
The promise of nighttime warmth is what draws Clayfur to the group. He isn’t often found outside of his nest after nightfall, usually tired and aching by the time it’s become dark enough for the sky to twinkle with only the tiniest pinpricks of light. But tonight, he spots Cindershade and Redpath, among others, gathered with their faces tilted to the sky, and there’s no reason not to join them. He’s already awake as it is, and he won’t pass up the chance to stargaze with his fellow RiverClanners.

Of course, his clanmates always relate stars to StarClan, and Clay’s mouth tips downward into the briefest of frowns. There is no one pointing out any of the shapes that the stars make, dotted across the sky. That’s what they should be focusing on! He sees no reason, though, to spoil their fun by being—what, a dissenter? No, such statements are liable to get him thrown from the clan, and he values his family too much to risk such a thing. Clay has never been one to object, to push back at the status quo, and so he is silent through their chatter. Maybe he should say something just to, like, fill his silence.

Surrounded by so many clanmates, people he cares about even if he may not care for them, the people he was dragged to by his family but chose to stay with—surely no one minds if he’s quiet tonight. But he lifts a white paw, aimed to the sky, and drags it in a few arcing lines, across an invisible path. "If you look hard enough, you can actually see cats in the stars," he murmurs, squinting to bring the stars further into focus.
[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]
 
Her Clanmates are huddled together in a show of camaraderie. Above them, stars blaze with silver fire. Having given up on sleep, the tortoiseshell she-cat joins the group stargazing.

Iciclepaw brushes against her uncle's flank, a rare but brief gesture of affection, before she comes to settle beside Fawnpaw. She gives the former kittypet a stare before dipping her head. "No one will keep you from being here," she says, though her tone is far from affectionate. She still isn't sure it had been such a great idea to let someone so soft-pawed into RiverClan, but she's hardly in a place to judge Cicadastar.

After a heartbeat, she turns ice-blue eyes to the skies. A black ear twitches at Clayfur's assertion that he can see cats. "I don't see any cats," she comments calmly. "But I do see... a leaf." An errant white paw raises to gesture in the general direction of a vague oval-shape with a half-hearted stem.

Her mentor's comment unnerves her, but a flash of menace streaks through her mind. A WindClan warrior, hopefully. She knows she should be ashamed of thinking something like that, but she isn't. Perhaps that's the more shameful thing.

She chooses to abandon the thought entirely. Iciclepaw looks at Redpath and offers her a small, tight smile. "Maybe they're swimming, instead," she says.

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
The night sky is something he often struggled to see clearly Too stubborn to stop and look at something that would always be there– That'd been his excuse, at least. Either that, or there weren't any at all. Amongst the upwalkers, where everything was too-tall and borne of unnatural order, the stars did not shine. There were only the bulbs of their own, fake kind. Little moons, suspended by something he could not understand. He never had the time to stop and ponder them, really.

The first time he had stopped to look, he had been with a friend. Or acquaintance, maybe. Smatterings of sand come to mind in the form of a body, heavily built and thick-furred ontop. The world rumbled with his laugh, the forest sung with the twirl of his paws. He had found him alone, a smile on his face. There was nothing he could have been smiling about, but the stars themselves. Wasp had joined him, in the end.

It surprises him. The stars were not quite the same here. Somehow, they had not shown the same vividness before. Somehow, they had not carried so much weight before. Wasn't that something?

He did not understand StarClan just yet, but he would like to. "Lost?" Parrotting of Smokethroat's words, eyes slightly ajar. What does it mean to be lost? Redpath is far more chipper with her suggestion. He'd like to think it was something kinder, like that. And yet, he doesn't find that to be the idea he latches onto.

To Fawnpaw, he would shake his head, unperturbed– at least, by her presence. It's endearing, maybe, the way she and Clayfur seem not to preoccupy themselves with such a thing. Only the lights' reflection shown in their eyes. It is enviable, perhaps.

 

A sleepless night has called to Gillpaw, and he too finds himself among the group beneath the starry sky. Sun-hued eyes gaze upon the fallen's home, dark ears passively listening to the chatter around him as he takes in the inky twilight.

A twinge of dread finds itself gnawing at him; a reminder, as his clanmates talk about StarClan of how close he'd come - how close they'd all come - to joining the night's sky. Water dark as the sky he stares at, almost taking him twice. Pulling at RiverClan's paws, as if looking for recruits for the star-dwellers.

If things were different, would RiverClan be watching him leap through the sky instead - watch his ascent, just as they watch this moving star's own?

"M-Maybe th-they're hunting?" he suggests instead at Smokethroat's words, remembering the odd star he'd seen moons ago - a phenomenon of blinking red, a theory of caught prey for the StarClanner that swept through the darkness. He hope this one catches something too.

He squints his eyes at Clayfur's comment, searching the stars for a cat's form. "I-I... I don't see one either," he speaks, though the search distracts his mind enough to diminish the dread he'd felt, "I... I th-think I see a f-fish th-though." He follows in Iciclepaw's actions, lifting a paw towards a vaguely fish-like shape in the sky.
 
As Smokethroat's voice pipes up from her side, she nods in agreement to the similar dark tom. The pair looked like a duo of shadows that danced in the night, their features hidden beside the glowing eerieness of their eyes. He mentions when a phenomenon like they had just witnessed happened, a cat was ascending to StarClan. She ponders over that for a bit, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth while her muscles tightened along her shoulders. A flash of golden rosetted fur enters her mind's eye, with irises as blue as the clearest of skies. The image pulls at her psyche, knowing that she'd never see her again—even afterwards in death. Forever apart they would be, the kind face of her mother within her thoughts was all she would ever have.
A crashing wave of emotions hit her, swirling around in her chest and itching to push it's way to the surface; only to be pulled back down. No, she'd not show that type of vulnerability here. Not to anyone. So, her mask is placed upon her, laid on thick and filled with solemnity. The soft stride of Fawnpaw breaks her concentration on the stars, soft voice whispering like a breeze whilst asking to join. She says nothing, though her head dips to the smaller molly briefly and her tail tip flicks once. She didn't particularly know the young woman, but all were welcome in. The stars weren't for her eyes only, it was meant to be shared amongst clanmates. Redpath had voiced her own opinion of the streaking blaze of white, mentioning it was a cat running amongst the stars. Cindershade shifts a bit, finally relaxing her shoulders she had not realized had been tensed for so long. The mask slips, the smallest of smiles pushes through though it is nearly impossible to see when there is so silver veil to lighten her features. "Perhaps so." She muses, finding herself relaxing more as her gaze returns to the sky.
Wasprattle echoes onto the black tom, a question edging his tone as he repeats the word. "He means that when someone dies. Like someone was lost to us, never to be seen again until we too, pass." The woman speaks again, her vocal rasp softer than usual as her head swivels towards the cinnamon and black tom. Someone who meant something dear to us. She grows quiet again as more voices pierce the silence of the crisp air, listening to Iciclepaw and Clayfur along with Gillpaw discuss the various shapes they see within the stars. Again a mist of golden fur settles in her mind, a warm rasping tongue ruffling the fur along the head of a small shaded kit whilst speaking of the stars. Her jaw clenches as a searing pain rushes into her chest, piercing her heart like the sharpest of blades. She had told her that the stars also tell stories of the past, that lengendary figures settle themselves in the indigo sky and forever remembered. "Stars can also tell stories." She murmurs, soft but loud enough for the group to hear her. She feels so hollow now as her mother traces in her mind. Oh, mother. How I miss you..
[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]