camp TAKE ME BACK TO THE NIGHT WE MET // heartbroken

[STORMYWING]

☁︎

It's been a full sunrise and sunset since Iciclefang revealed the news to her. Stormywing will have kits, but she will not ever know them, because they will be born and raised in RiverClan. It's a secret she can't tell anybody, so instead she bears the full weight of it on her broken, shattered heart. She has thought of nothing else except their final moments together, the pain on the tortoiseshell's face that betrayed her otherwise cold words. It's over. The words repeat in her head like a taunt. It's maddening, and she hasn't been able to sleep a wink since that night.

Her cry splits the air in camp, surely gaining the attention of the clanmates that mill about outside. It is sunhigh, the majority of cats having begun their day either patrolling, hunting, or training their apprentices. So fortunately for Stormywing, the warrior's den is empty. She is laying face-down in her nest, her paws holding Iciclefang's stone close to her chest. Tears stream down her face and her jaws are parted to let out horrible, gut-wrenching sobs. One would think a loved one has died, seeing her like this. The tabby shifts until she is curled around the rock, her claws sinking into her nest and tearing it as more and more shrill cries wrack her body.

Stormywing has never known a greater pain. Her heart feels as if it's been torn right from her body, leaving nothing but a gaping, bleeding hole in its place. What does she have left? Honor? No - she'd thrown that out the moment she met up with Iciclefang at the river after the journey. She abandoned her oath of loyalty to her clan for love, and now she doesn't even have that. She's lost everything.

I WANNA TASTE LOVE AND PAIN ☁︎

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[nightbird]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ nightbird was only just returning to camp, a small mouse placed in her jaws. she dropped it off and bid palepaw an underwhelming goodbye before heading in the direction of the warrior's den. a quick rest in a warm den before dusk patrols wouldn't do any harm.

the scene she entered to was anything but peaceful, wretched sobs ripping from stormywing's throat, the warrior's claws leading an assault on her nest. "stormywing?" she was almost dumbfounded as she uttered the silver molly's name. she could only ever think of exuberance when it came to stormywing, this was a hard fall from grace for the promising warrior.

"stars, what has gotten into you," nightbird sighs, displeased that her nap was now put on hold, but more so concerned about the state of stormywing. she didn't like crying, glassy eyes and tear matted fur. it was unbecoming, the sounds alone had her ears flattening towards her skull. "should i fetch gentlestorm..." perhaps it wasn't a fitting solution for whatever she was going through, but even if the medicine cat lacked the herbs to make her better he was surely better equipped to handle her emotions.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎┌── AND TIME IS RAGING ⋅⋆⋅ MAY IT RAGE IN VAIN ──┐‎

• ooc ↛
  

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  NIGHTBIRD ✩ she/her, lead warrior of thunderclan, 30 ☾'s
  ⭃ a small black smoke molly with a single white paw and pale silver eyes.
  ⭃ mate to raccoonstripe / / mentor to palepaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[FALCONHEART]

𓍊𓋼 The sun is high in the sky, beaming warmly down upon cream-hued fur, and the day is going really well. Though he’s constantly on guard, and the aching in his jaw has spread to his temples, Falconheart finds himself grinning as he returns to camp from his patrol. He hasn’t seen any deer today, so maybe they’ve all moved on. Like Nightbird, he heads for the warriors’ den in the hopes of catching a short nap before he has to head back out into the forest. And like Nightbird, he too finds himself an unwilling witness to the horribly loud breakdown that Stormywing is having in the den.

He’s stunned at first, paws stuck to the ground as panic courses through him. Stormywing is always bold and bright, what’s going on with her now, to make her cry like a kit? "Oh, hey… hey, Stormywing, are you okay?" He steps hesitantly over to Stormywing’s nest, trying to get a good look at the older warrior. Is she hurt? Is something wrong, like really wrong? It must be, if she’s crying like this; he’s never seen Stormywing cry before, much less sob like this.

Nightbird wonders aloud whether she should fetch the medicine cat, and Falconheart nods. "I think one of us should get him. Is there any—what can I… what can I do to help?" He looks to the dark-furred lead warrior at his side for a moment, eyes wide and filled with panic. Gentlestorm is definitely the best clanmate to check on Stormywing right now, he thinks, but he’s reluctant to leave the she-cat’s side. She’s his cousin, after all—he should be here for her, even if he isn’t really helping that much.​

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[freckleflame]

dawn patrol is awful. being assigned dawn patrol was awful. even this far into her warriorship, freckleflame was appalled to think that some believed any cat should be up before the sun was high in the sky. what kind of mouse was out at the crack of morning, anyway? who’d be scouting their borders before they really woke up for the day? most of them, truthfully, but the tortoiseshell wasn’t here to tell the truth — in fact, she hadn’t been here to interact at all. dawn patrol had been great,, uneventful and unfun as it always was, and after catching a scrawny pigeon to plop onto the freshkill pile for the morning, she’d returned to her nest with a heavy flop. nap time.

and there she lie, back slipping halfway off her moss and onto the packed dirt of the warriors den when suddenly — a wail. freckleflame startles so hard she bolts upright in alarm, hitting her head on the twine of sticks and root that make up their roofing. her eyes bath blearily, rapidly against the blur in her vision, fighting to comprehend the sight of a small, trembling cat in her own nest, ” s - stormywing? “ she’d never seen her like this. not stormywing — brave, loud, confident stormywing. nightbird and falconheart approach before she can say another word, but she shakes out her pelt anyway, before moving closer with a lowering head and angling ears.

nightbird asks after gentlestorm, but freckleflame isn’t so convinced this is a pain scream. what it was, though, she was even less sure about. but this was her friend, and she couldn’t let her sob like this any less than the two to approach before her. softly, she meows, ” oh, honey.. did somethin’ happen? “ folding her arms beneath her again once she nears. looming over the molly couldn’t do any good and really, she wasn’t sure if asking did, either. but she was there, and would be until told to go.

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 -`☀︎´- 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘠 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘈 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘌 𝘕𝘖𝘞

• i.
  
  
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  FRECKLEFLAME 𖦹 . LESBIAN, SINGLE. SMELLS LIKE SUN - WARMED OAK AND RICH, EARTHY MUSK. EIGHTEEN MOONS OLD. FRIEND & SISTER TO MANY! NAMED A WARRIOR OF THUNDERCLAN ON 8 / 3 / 2023. MENTORING COUGARPAW! PENNED BY ANTLERS --------------------------------------------
  
  f. she / her, daughter of sunfreckle and rabbitnose. large, fluffy cream - ribboned tortoiseshell with seaglass eyes. larger than life! each and every part of her is broad ; wide in everything from her face to shoulders to her feathered tail, something reminiscent of her father’s kittypet heritage in the square of her chin and hulk of her figure. she appears illusionarily fluff - ridden at first, thickly pelted in shades of fire and soot, long & tangled, knotted with undergrowth — seeming soft and pudgy, and she is.. that figure curving into hard, hidden bulk along heavyset flanks and well - muscled limbs. a characteristic lack of personal space leads her to a slouching, touchy posture, often inclined to lean or bump against her peers.
  

  prone to bouts of explosive emotion. all opinions are solely in - character and during these times, often untrue or said only in anger.

  
  

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[Martenmask]

It had been a beautiful night last night, and the gods of sleep had decided not to disrupt Martenmask's ability to enjoy it by letting him doze off. He had spent almost the entire time the moon was out at the entrance to camp, gazing up at the stars and trying to commit the shapes they formed to memory. It was challenging, especially when his body cried out for sleep, and eventually he had stumbled back to his nest and caught a few hours just around the time the sun rose. The towering chocolate-and-white warrior had, in fact, only recently vacated the warrior's den to lap at some water and stretch his limbs. By the time he returned, wailing cries were filling the camp and concerned voices were coming from the den.

Curiosity and concern propelled Martenmask forward, peering owlishly at Stormywing as she sobbed into her nest. Nightbird, Falconheart, and Freckleflame are nudging at the distraught she-cat, trying to figure out what had happened. His attention was drawn to the stone Stormywing held clutched to her chest and he tilted his head to one side, a telltale flash of intrigue flashing across his white-blazed face. "Did that rock hurt you?" he inquired earnestly, taking one careful step closer. "I just - I mean to say, you're holding it - did it jab your paw somehow?" It didn't seem like a hurt paw would create such a display of raw grief and suffering, but he had to ask, right?

"I...well, no, we'll talk later. Let me get Gentlestorm." he backed up and quickly turned towards the medicine den, crossing the camp in a handful of long strides and reaching the mouth of the fern tunnel. " @GENTLESTORM ? Stormywing is, uh...in need of assistance, I think. She's in the warrior's den."​

 

[Flycatcher]

For as long as his niece and her siblings had been in her life, Flycatcher could not recall a time when she was cheerful, loud, confident. He had been on the same patrol as Falconheart, basking in the warming weather.

He is taken aback when he suddenly hears wailing erupting from the warrior's den. For a moment, his pelt prickles with unease, half expecting to find some horrific sight awaiting them all inside. Flycatcher hears a few mutterings of Stormywing's name being spoken but does not expect it to actually be her that is the cause of the commotion. Nightbird, Falconheart, and Freckleflame are all there already, fussing over her and trying to determine the cause of her wails. Martenmask backs out of the den in search of Gentlestorm, and Flycatcher moves to the side slightly to let him pass, though he has his doubts that whatever was causing her to wail like this was a physical ailment.

Flycatcher saw no sense in getting closer with so many other warriors nearby, but his brows creased in concern for his niece as he watched her. "Stormywing, what has happened?" He inquires gently. "Why are you crying like this?"​

 

[leafhusk]

it’s too early for this, she thinks harshly. for a quick moment she thought the screech was the snowy owl, barging it’s way into camp for predatory revenge. no, of course not— it’s her denmate wailing over stars knows what.

a singe of worry does stir in her chest for a moment. however, leafhusk does struggle to find empathy, maybe in a few more hours when the sun’s touched the sky. she doesn’t come any closer to the den’s opening, lingering outside in a not subtle show of eavesdropping. "i hope she doesn’t do this every night." the molly leans towards the nearest clanmate, keeping her voice low.​

 

[GENTLESTORM]

'CAUSE SOMEWHERE DOWN THE BANK — The large tom had been within his den changing the bedding of the nests and removing the old nesting material though his gaze lifts up when Martenmask brushes through the fern tunnel, both of his feathery tipped ears pricking in the direction of the other tomcat "Ah hello, Martenmask. How can I help you?" The medicine cat begins though he recieves his answer and its enough to make the sides of his mouth falter into a small frown, his bushy brows furrow in concern though he does not hesitate to question it further, "I see, I see. Thank you for telling me," He gives a curt nod of his helm motioning for the warrior to follow him, the snow kissed tom slowly making his way out from the fern tunnel until he could hear the broken wailing of Stormywing and it makes his chest ache in the slightest wondering what could've possibly gotten this reaction from the grey tabbied molly. His dark gaze stares at the warriors den for a heartbeat or two knowing that he hadn't been inside there for a few moons and now stepping into it, he can't help but feel a little odd and silly.

Leafhusk leans in his direction and Gentlestorm can't help but snort at what she says next only to murmur in a low voice "Don't be so harsh," He nudges her gently with his shoulder only to slip into the den noticing how several of their clanmates were present including Stormywing's kin, his tired eyes soften at the sight of her curled around — was that a stone? How odd. If Stormywing needed assistance then he was here to lend an ear or careful paw if she did end up being injured though he doubts that any of his herbs could ease whatever pain that she felt. If he had known, he would have understood slightly. The loss of someone that you truly hadn't lost and its a memory that sits in his mind when he had found Little Wolf sobbing the same way. "I'm here if you need me, Stormywing." A soft offer that she could decline or accept.

WHERE THE DOGS ROAM ✿ POR LA CALLE QUE TE LLEVA A CURICÓ

• 

  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ✿✿✿✿✿ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✿✿✿❀❀ INFECTIONS
  — ✿✿✿❀❀ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✿✿✿❀❀ ILLNESS
  — ✿✿❀❀❀ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✿❀❀❀❀ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✿❀❀❀❀ BROKEN BONES
  — ❀❀❀❀❀ KITTING
  — ❀❀❀❀❀ POISONS
• 
  ✿ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
  ✿ gentle is a very warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he's very social and willing to lend anyone a paw if they need it. he's very patient, caring, and it's usually rare to earn his ire.
  ✿ 52 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✿ widowed/not interested; mated to little wolf
  ✿ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ✿ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✿ peaceful powerplay allowed

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[BURNSTORM]

Grief is not something new to him. He has witnessed it plenty of times, experienced it himself, even. But it doesn't make it easier to deal with whenever he encounters it. He is not the comforting type, never has been. He doesn't ever seem to know the right things to say in these situations, never knows what to do. But Stormywing is a friend, a close one he thinks, and to see and hear her keening like this was heart-breaking to the shaded tom. "Hey, I'm here too" he says, his voice soft, uncharacteristically gentle as he comes to stand nearby with the rest of the clanmates who had gathered around to offer comfort, to offer support.

Like Gentlestorm, he notices the stone she is curled around. huh he thinks. He had never seen it before but perhaps it had been given to her by some secret lover in ThunderClan that he did not know of. It would not be unheard of, he himself has stones given to him by Roeflame tucked away in his nest, after all. He shoots Freckleflame a questioning look, but she seemed just as out of the loop as he was so he doubts he would be finding answers there. Perhaps later they could all go hunting together, like they had in old times. Would Stormywing like that? He is uncertain and he doubts he should propose the idea now but... maybe it would distract her from whatever is wrong.

( ☼ ) come and take it

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  BURNSTORM THUNDERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR ; HE / HIM ; BROTHER TO MORNINGPAW, MOONWHISPER, HOWLFIRE, FIREFLYPAW, SKYPAW & DUSKPAW ; MATE TO ROEFLAME
  

  A large, sharp tongued, tom with long black fur and golden, oval shaped, eyes.

  ✦ Difficult in battle. A skilled fighter + fights honorably
  

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[STORMYWING]

☁︎

Her claws sink further into her nest as another cry splits the air. Her heart aches, god it aches. Clanmates begin to gather around, their voices ranging from confused to concerned to vaguely annoyed. Her cousin's voice. She hears him, asking if she's okay, asking what he can do. Cool, amazing Nightbird is there, too. Freckleflame and Burnstorm, she hears her friends' voices like a chorus of birdsong. Did something happen, The former asks, and she cries harder because she can't say what hurts so bad. She can't tell any of them what happened. She's a code-breaker, dishonorable. Did that rock hurt you? "No!" It's the first she speaks, and she holds the stone closer to her chest as if she's rocking it. She doesn't want anyone to take it from her. The rock, yes, it hurt her, but there is no blood or wound.

And her uncle. Oh, her uncle. She squeezes her eyes shut even tighter, shame washing over her. He good, honorable, respectable, lawful uncle. He'd be ashamed of her, she knows he would. And yet she wants to be a juvenile again and clamber to his chest for an embrace. She wants comfort, but she would get none if they all knew the truth.

Gentlestorm is finally here, but she doubts there is any herb he can give her that would soothe a shattered heart. She turns away, forcing herself to be quiet, even if just a little.

I WANNA TASTE LOVE AND PAIN ☁︎​

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