sensitive topics SULFUR ON MY BREATH, GRANITE IN MY CHEST [ ✦ ] half-alive

[Starlingheart]

// tw : brief mentions of blood

Her dreams the night before had been fitful. In one she is running, running, running. Her feet kick into the earth as fast as they can manage, her heart races inside her chest, fluttering against her ribs like a trapped bird desperately trying to escape its confinement of flesh and blood and ribs. When she looks behind her in the dream, all she sees are shadows and a pair of eyes. They are green like the forest around them, and so so achingly familiar. If she had woken up remembering anything about her dream, perhaps she would have taken it as premonition. A warning from her subconscious mind of the danger that was to come.

She dreams of nothing now, her mind little more than a void empty of all thoughts. She won’t remember this time later, when her one good eye finally flutters open. (Whether she saw StarClan or ShadowClan when she awoke was still in the paws of their ancestors.) On this precarious edge she balances as she lays there, her body crisscrossed in wounds, rested in a patch of scarlet coated snow. During the scuffle that had borne her life as the prize, storm clouds had begun to gather and they break now. Snow dusts her lightly but she doesn’t stir. The only indication that there was life in that stilled body is the ever so faint rise and fall of her chest as she breathes in and out. All she is and all she ever would be; mother, daughter, sister. In and out. Almost too faint for the naked eye too see. It is what had saved her, this shallow breathing, what had made her assailant leave her for what he had believed to be dead. Soon, if the blood did not stop pooling in the snow around her, it would be her end as well.

/ set up post for @Magpiepaw to find her please do not post until he does! This takes place after this thread

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[Magpiepaw]

—————————————————————⊰♰⊱————————————————————
He heard something. It was hard to tell if it was anything significant or the rustle of branches in the cold wind, the scurry of prey across the frozen surface of the ground. It was a trivial sound, an echo he would have normally ignored but there was something about it that made his fur prickle with unease. Magpiepaw stopped in his digging, he had been halfway down to what he thought was burdock root when a chill raced up his spine and he raised his head. There was a sudden and overwhelming compulsion to stop his task and find Starlingheart but in his distraction he realized she had wandered further than she'd been prior. When had she done that? Where was she? The rest of the patrol he could hear in the distance still, someone had found a marsh hare and they were trying to corner it from the sounds of it so he turned and set off in the opposite direction to find his mentor swiftly. They needed to go, he didn't know why but they needed to leave right now.

His eyes widen, pinpricks of black against a night sky, his mouth snaps open in a wordless scream. The snow is redder than it has any right to be, he had seen blood upon its pristine surface many times before but not like this and not with the source being his heart of hearts - his beloved mentor, the only cat who kept him grounded. To say Magpiepaw reacted poorly was an understatement, his scream was more of fear than to call for the patrol but later when asked he could say otherwise; insist it was a calm and composed cry for aid. For now though he rushes forward in a panicked frenzy, nearly tripping and going nose first into the ground but sheer force of will kept him upright. There was so much, so many, he didn't know where to start and he realized his idleness was lifethreatening. Without hesitating he began to pack snow on over the wounds, paws scooping and flinging them over dark fur, practically burying the molly in his efforts to stall the bleeding. Cobwebs, marigold, goldenrod, cobwebs marigold, goldenrod...
How much did they have at the den? He couldn't remember, he knew there was some but was it enough.
"Starlingheart, Starlingheart..." Her name was a mantra, his words almost catatonic as he worked; the chill seeping into paws, he didn't stop even when he lost the feeling in them entirely.

"GET! OVER HERE!" He hears pawsteps behind him, his voice practically a snarl as the order rips out of him like a thorn removal; sharp and bloodied. His gaze dances around the frozen marsh, he knows who did this - any fool could tell who did it, but he sees neither gray nor cinnamon among the distant trees. If he ever got his teeth in them, if he ever had even a second to part jaws and bare fangs, Magpiepaw didnt know if his repulsion toward the idea of killing would remain intact.
"Someone carry her to the den!" The snow would hold, it would hold just long enough and he could patch her up and everything would be fine-he would apologize for making her cold, he would apologize for not being faster. He never hated his inability to run before, but now he despised it more than he did whoever had done this.

————— ⸸ looks like the stars won't shine much longer ———— ⸸ so give me your hand

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Magpiepaw
  —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
  —⊰⋅ Has mild cerebellar hypoplasia (Wobbly cat syndrome)
  
  

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[Bonerattle]

Though Bonerattle knew that he could personally never be a healer - the overwhelming smell of plants and too many things to remember - he still respected the duo that were tasked to heal the clan itself, so when he had been tasked with going on a small patrol to help the two bi-colored felines with their own chores he had quickly gathered Thornpaw and head out. It would be a good way to learn how to multitask both for himself and for Thornpaw - learn to catch prey while watching over others and for himself teaching on top of that.

He'd been showing Thornpaw how to crouch properly off to the side, telling her to watch the rest of their patrol as they tried to corner the hare in the hopes that it would make it's way towards the duo so he could show her how to swiftly kill such a creature so that it wouldn't be able to hurt a cat when the sharp snarl of a call rang to his ears and quickly the warrior shot up and made his way over, sprinting as far as she could before coming to a stop and skidding in the packed down snow. The scent of blood reached his nostrils and eyes widened as eyes cast upon Starlingheart.

As ears quickly pinned to his head Bonerattle surged forward once more and bent down, careful to not rattle the injured healer before him too much as he aimed to get underneath her body to put her on his back the best he could. He wasn't the largest cat in the clan but he was strong and compared to some of the others here he'd be the best option. "Two of you, go back to camp, clear out the way to the medicine den so it's a straight shot and get Chilledstar." He had a feeling he knew who did this, how could they not with everything that'd happened recently? And even if Bonerattle couldn't smell any other scents through the thickness of the blood and the thunderpath there was no telling if the cat that did this was still around or running around the territory.

With Starlingheart on his back as quickly as one could while carrying another Bonerattle began to make his way back to camp with the others, careful to not trip over roots or slip on icy leaves so as not to make the journey more dangerous than it already was back home.

I TESTIFY 🥩 IF I DIE IN MY SLEEP

• apprentice tag @THORNPAW
• scalejaw x shadestep | sibling to shadefall & nightwhisper
  he/they - no preference
  15 moons, ages every 1st of the month
  They speak in bolded #708f52 and think in italicized #708f52
  peaceful powerplay allowed

​

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[Frostbite]

The scent of blood reaches Frostbite and draws him from his hunt. His fur prickles as he lets the frog get away for now as he quickly turns and dashes through the reeds and tall grasses of the marsh. He rushes to Poppypaw's side immediately, fearing for her safety.

"We have to go, someone's in trouble." He says, nudging her to follow, relieved that she is safe.

His thoughts are racing. Did that fox com back? Has Siltcloud claimed another victim? He bares his teeth at both thoughts. Hearing Magpiepaw cry out only makes him move faster, he's never heard him shout like that before.

What awaits him when he arrives nearly stops his heart. Starlingheart is beaten and bloody, with heavy wounds and barely breathing.

"Starlingheart-" His voice is weak with shock.

Bonerattle is carrying her and making his way back to camp. He follows alongside him and helps keep Starlingheart supported.

"Poppypaw, run back back to camp with the others." He tells her.

Looking back to Bonerattle and Magpiepaw, he forces his voice to sound less frantic than he feels. "What happened here. Who or what did this?" He nearly demands. He is full of worry and anger.

Is this what Shadowclan is fated to deal with? To be hunted and picked off like prey? No. He will not accept this.

(( @POPPYPAW apprentice tag )))​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

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

---

"what? what's going on?"

they're stopped from heading out on a patrol by frantic cats. their gaze widens as they listen when they pant out that somethings happened to starlingheart. their stomach drops, lower than it has in a long time, and they feel fear. their chest heaves in and out and with a loud growl, they rush past the cats, paws drumming in the floor until they skid to a halt, finding boneripple carrying an unconscious starlingheart, and magpiepaw stumbling afterwards. oh, stars, they're gonna be sick.

"starlingheart..."

they need to find out who did this but how could they? her blood covers it all but their mind goes back to the one cat that had his claws hooked in her long before they could see it. but with no proof... they can't follow a damned ghost.

"where did you find her? we will send patrols. we will... i..."

have failed you. i'm so sorry, starlingheart. i will find who did this. i will make sure it doesn't happen again. they can't even promise but they want to.

"applepaw. screechpaw. help magpiepaw as much as he needs. and no complaining, okay? frostbite... let's go look and see if we can find the scent."
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[APPLEJAW]

Applepaw is swift on her mentor's heels. The frenzied explaination reaches her: Starlingheart, hurt, and her breath is held tight in preparation for whatever it was they might see— but a warrior should have no fear, and so she quashes it down. She focuses on how quickly her paws could carry her to the scene instead. She focuses on what she could do next. ShadowClan needed no more death. Not now, even if the cat in question may not hold those very same thoughts. Starlingheart had been fine, to let her mother die. applepaw would not be the same— though it was not for her sake.

It's enough to make her want to wince— the Medicine Cat... mauled. Torn in a way that seems more akin to the ravaging of a beast, than something any cat would do. It's messy. Messier than Ashenpaw's attack had been. Messier than Comfreypaw had been. What vendetta would Siltcloud ever have against Starlingheart, to make her this way? And yet, it had to be her. It had to be. " Was it Siltcloud? " she asks, breathless, even if she did not smell the scent that had been written across the prey she'd left; across Comfreypaw, drifting farther and farther from ShadowClan scent and becoming something roguish. " We need to find her— " she insists to Chilledstar, and once again she is told to hang back; to tend to the wounded, instead of doing what she really wanted to do.

Applepaw breathes in. She would be a warrior soon enough.

She turns to Magpiepaw, gaze furrowed, and then to Bonerattle. No one cat could efficiently carry another, so long as they weren't kit - sized. " I can help, " she tells them, and if allowed, she would come beside the warrior to shift some of Starlingheart's weight upon her own back, grunting with some effort— but capable with the paws she has long - since grown into.

( one track mind, one track heart ) ༊ ( if i fail i'll fall apart )

• 
  
  

• 

• ( CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I'M THE WORST, SO I ALWAYS ACT LIKE I'M THE BEST ) APPLEPAW. apprentice of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + thornpaw, halfpaw & laurelpaw )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 9 moons old as of 12.20.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applepaw is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. Naturally talented, and for the most part, a rule - follower. She thinks herself better than the majority of her peers. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and wanting to fix what has been broken. Intensely closed off to close emotional connection and outwardly cold to most.

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[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Fur rose and stood on end the instant Scalejaw's eyes found the situation brewing. She was quick to follow the snow-trail that Chilledstar and Applepaw were kicking up, slowing to a stop. Watching the group of cats surge onwards, her son coated in another's blood... Her ears fell, eyes narrowing. Quickly, her brain is kicked into overdrive, but she keeps her mouth shut for now, stepping out of the way. "Bonerattle, don't go too far from them if they need paws." She stated to her son as he passed, head dipping.

Vision lifted towards Chilledstar, vision searching theirs for but a moment before the words left her mouth. "I'm coming as well." Scalejaw uttered- a determined nod given towards Frostbite as well. If she could make herself useless, you best believe she'd rather do that then sitting around in camp. Thoughts briefly went back to Flintpaw, and she made a mental note to check on her apprentice when she returned.

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

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[pipitclaw !!]

It wasn't like he had grown up with her as a beloved auntie to dote up and be loved by in return... Pipit was still a stranger here and he knew that in every interaction where eyes narrowed at the sound of his voice. He assumed that everyone else just thought it would buy his silence, that it might scare him off to prove Smogmaw's prediction of their lack of worth- it was a waste of their energy.

Chocolate and shadow move in bouncy steps, unbothered by the unwelcoming aura of those warriors who found him irritating and hard to cope with... but the sight of Chilledstar rushing past in his periphery is enough to steal his attention from his idle prowling for prey. So much for a harmless patrol... He skirts around the shade and snow to follow after with narrowed eyes intrigued by whatever drama spawns such urgency.

But what they bare witness to in tandem is not just 'drama' to revel in... the unmistakable stench of blood is one he is not wholly unfamiliar with, his own body littered in scars to show for it. But usually... it's just that, it's his bleeding. The mangled form of a familiar face sets his heart racing in wild flickering flames, a heat spreading in a searing flash to every winter-chilled crevice of his body. Already others are scooping her off the ground, set on dragging her home where she might, barely be able to recover. Magpiepaw is just an apprentice, isn't he?

Her apprentice.

He isn't conscious of the way his jaw clenches and unclenches to swallow the blinding red of anger in his belly. For every drop of crimson blood is matched in a heightened level of fury... a face typically adorned in obnoxious pearly smiles is startlingly still... there are no teeth expressing his idle joy. His transfixed gaze practically shakes as if it cannot bear to focus on the hardly moving rise and fall of a body that is family. She is family. His family. He had just found them.

Distantly he hears Chilledstar summon Frostbite to go hunting for whoever had done this, recognizes the older voice of Scalejaw insert herself as a part of that group and his gaze snaps to a black and white pelt with unusual pause... he'd held his tongue for so long. "Me too," he says in tight lipped demand. He won't be denied his opportunity for revenge if they do find the sorry bastard that had done it.​

 

[Hawkstride]

★ ★ ★ Hawk had been idling close to his brother, more focused on enjoying the crisp winter air outside the camp than hunting. They hadn't had much of an opportunity to get out since they'd joined, what with being followed by warriors and all. But when their leader raced past them with the speed of someone desperate, urgent... he forgot all about his qualms with their current situation. When Pipit moved to follow the ebony-and-white feline, he moved as well, matching his sibling stride for stride as they sprinted towards the source of the trouble. In the distance he vaguely heard the sounds of someone crying out, and it only made his heart pound faster.

He skid to a halt next to his sibling, kicking up powdery white snow as his green gaze fell to the still black figure being carried off by their clanmates. And suddenly his pounding heart stopped beating altogether. Starlingheart. His aunt. Her body was bloodied and broken, staining the pristine snow below with her precious crimson lifeblood. Magpiepaw trailed frantically behind them, shouting orders at the warriors who carried her. Hawk struggled to bring breath back into his body, his head pounding with a multitude of feelings he hadn't known he could feel. He hadn't known the shadowy medicine cat for long, but she was his flesh and blood. His family. And that meant more to him than anything, regardless of the duration of their relationship.

Who had done this to her?

As the air returned to his lungs and the ringing in his ears subsided, he registered a vicious growl resonating from deep within his own chest. Chilledstar issued commands, declaring that they would set out to find the monster that had committed this act. He did not know yet that the rest of them had a good idea who the culprit was, but it wouldn't have mattered. Whatever it took, however long, he was going to be there when they found the foxhearted scum that dared lay their claws on his aunt. "I'm coming", he promised gruffly alongside his sibling. Moss-colored eyes, usually so calm, blazed bright with fury as they watched Starlingheart disappear from sight.

 

[FLINTWISH]

That's his mother, lying there in her own viscera, breaths so shallow she might as well not be breathing at all.

Whatever had drawn him initially doesn't matter now. When Flintpaw sets his gaze upon the mess, he doesn't even recognize it as a cat. Doesn't recognize it as Starlingheart, not at first — she's always been timid, but now she looks so small against the deep crimson that surrounds her, a scrap of fur strewn about the earth without care. And it takes no sleuthing to figure out who had rendered her so... inanimate. A thing that Magpiepaw needs to put back together; a cat that does not fit his mother's silhouette, soft and gentle and kind above all and serving her Clan so thanklessly. Flintpaw thinks that if Magpiepaw can't fix her, then something very, very bad will happen. He isn't sure what — maybe he'd die, too, some sort of violent empathy ripping him apart just like she has been ripped apart; maybe he'd turn into Granitepelt after all and implode with no Starlingheart to defend or count on any longer. Whatever it is, it burns in his eyes, a symbol of the wreckage that would ensue upon the unsuccessful re-tethering of Starlingheart's soul to her mortal coil.

There are so many cats crowding her now that Flintpaw struggles to find out where he can stand. Only one thing is certain: he must be close to her. He needs to examine the exact ways in which she has been hurt, needs to learn them, to memorize them for the future. One day, he would be sure to inflict the exact wounds on the cat who had done this to her.

He looks to Magpiepaw and fixes the apprentice with a stare so intense it might have seared him. "If you don't fix her...." he begins, but never finishes. What would he do, other than implode? His expression is uncannily blank, but really it is fear that fuels his ire (and isn't it always?). Flintpaw's whip tail lashes behind him; his stony fur forms mountain ranges along his spine. All other cats melt away from his periphery. It's just him, Magpiepaw, and Starlingheart now, and StarClan knows that Flintpaw would be watching her recovery.

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧ 𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

• 

• 
  
  — flintkit . flintpaw
  — he / they / she ; apprentice of shadowclan
  — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — headshot by me, signature by dreamydoggo
  — penned by meghan

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[NETTLEPAW ♡]

Blood was a bad smell. Go figure- it neer meant anything good. Only battle, or torn flesh, or... or rended limbs, or the word kidnapper screamed into the air. He followed after Flintpaw, as e often did, seeking approval, fawning- and that was Starlingheart, who's eyes had glimmered with laughter only the day before.

The glimmers in her eyes were stars, now. Was she even alive?

Snow dipped paws carried Nettlepaw, shakily, forward- but he had to stop at Flintpaw's side. Some invisible barrier, or maybe it was all the yelling, halted him. For once he could be nothing but silent. No confidence settled on his shoulders. His bravado was stripped away from him, leaving him skinless, jaw agape, eyes wide and sorrowful. Not another parent, not now.

Where was the fairness? The good karma? He'd done everything to prove he had not the rotted heart of his father, and what did fortune do but rip his mother to bits in front of him? Then, though- that was the sort of selfishness that made people hate you. He wasn't... wasn't selfish. Because at least Nettlepaw bore the crime of sharing blood, sharing traits by nature's dictum. Starlingheart had never done anything at all.

"He has to," Nettlepaw spoke lowly, looking to Flintpaw. Magpiepaw would fix her, faced with expectant eyes from her children, faced with the ultimate test. Keep your mentor alive, medicine cat. Keep my mother alive, medicine cat. Nettlepaw would arm a tongue lashing, a public humiliation, if he didn't. What kind of healer cannot heal?​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[lilacfur]

When Smogmaw had wretched Granitepelt off Chilledstar's body and thrown him into camp, when Siltcloud had openly supported, admitted to helping kill her older brother. Their leader. The many murders that followed... It still haunted her on occasion. Had taken her some time to move on, to remind herself she had to focus on being a better sister, better Clanmate, a better aunt.

In no time at all Siltcloud had begun to terrorize their home with displays of shredded prey laid to waste. Attacking her Clanmates and even going so far as to kill Comfreypaw, it all had been quick work to get the molly to hate her. To feel disgust. But she had never scented or heard Granitepelt working alongside her. In fact she hadn't heard his name mentioned in anything outside of what had happened that day.

Seeing Starlingheart this way, torn to ribbons like she was just a patch of tussocks against claws she could assume it was Siltcloud's strike once again. That the cinnamon molly had gone above just attacking their apprentices and now striking against someone she knew could not defend herself the same way. Starlingheart was not weak but she certainly couldn't hold her own against a warrior, not a killer.

But her wounds- underneath the blood she can scent the heather still lingering. There was a fox still lurking in their den, and like his former Clans namesake he hid in the shadows to strike? Where had he been for so long, waiting?

"I'll stay here." Lilacfur knows she should want to feel a traitors blood between her claws but she can only think of how she had stayed in the depths of the medicine den. Sick for moons unable to keep even water down. Seeing her sister in those moments, however fleeting were like the sun's shimmer through the thick of clouds.

"I can get anything you need, Magpiepaw."​

[ i need the clouds to cover me ]​