TERMINAL PARADISE | scorchstreak

[SCORCHSTORM]

Scorchstorm makes a beeline for the warrior's nests, away from Bluefrost and the few cats that have pooled around her, towards her mother's mossy dwelling, where she hopes that Scorchstreak will mercifully be resting. Maybe she is early enough in the day that the tunneler has not left on dutiful patrol yet; maybe some supernatural force would have alerted her mother to her impending need, and she stayed behind the rest of her platoon. Or maybe Scorchstreak would not be there. Would her daughter be so lost without her, even in her sadness?

Tears sting her dual-gold eyes as she tries to pick out whose sparse bodies lounged in the warrior's beds. She searches for the black-and-flame molly almost desperately — but she's not there. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise. With the dens not being dens at all, Scorchstorm's grief would have been open to the world — certainly Bluefrost would have seen such an embarrassing display. Still, tears slip discretely down her cheeks, upset to have to search for the comfort she would far prefer to just be given.

Scorchstorm dives through the gorse and heather tunnel, trotting out of camp, and then tearing away from it once she was certain no one inside would see her desperation to just get away. When she stops moving, she is bent pitifully over the sun-warmed pool, tears dropping wordlessly into its gentle surface. Her reflection ripples under the slow assault. Her shoulders shake, but she makes no sound, face pinched shut until pawsteps whip her attention upwards.

It's her mother. She's not sure how she got there, but it doesn't matter. Scorchstorm's teeth clench visibly before she spills: "Bluefrost is pregnant. But I... I—!" and the words stop coming. In their place, a sob rolls up and out of her throat, and Scorchstorm instead aims to dig her face into her mother's shoulder, wetting the coarse fur with more tears.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌 ✧

• ooc. in my mind this takes place directly after this open! @SCORCHSTREAK
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 15 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ The day is hot, and the moorland offers little shelter. There is no shade to duck under, not like there is in ThunderClan’s or SkyClan’s territory. The only respite from the sun’s scorching rays is within the tunnels, but sometimes the underground paths can become too stuffy to bear. For the first time in a while, the deputy makes the trek out to the sun-warmed pool hoping to catch a small break from the blistering heat. Yet, instead of a silent pool of water and a refreshing break, she finds a calico firm hunched over the water, shaking with emotion. Before she can say anything, the young warrior turns around and breaks the news: Bluefrost is pregnant. It is said through clenched teeth, and then there are tears gradually soaking into red-dappled fur. Scorchstreak winces—her daughter’s grief is powerful, as is the impact of Scorchstorm’s head against her shoulder.

"Bluefrost-" she cuts herself off, golden eyes narrowing as she glares across the moorland as though she could see into WindClan’s camp itself. Another council member has made themself worthless to the council. Where is Bluefrost now? Tucked away in the nursery, tending only to herself as she lies useless and separate from the rest of the clan? It is an unfair judgment, Scorchstreak knows—Rattleheart had done the same thing. But at least Rattleheart had contributed to the clan as a lead warrior for months before falling pregnant, and has named a father for her kits. Bluefrost is hardly even deserving of the title of WindClanner.

Even worse, the fool has caused Scorchstorm to come running to her mother with tears in her eyes and a sob clawing its way up from her chest. "You are hurting." It is a statement, an observation. It is clear to see how devastated her shadow of a daughter is by the news of Bluefrost’s pregnancy. Scorchstreak cannot pretend to know the depths of Scorchstorm’s heart, or whatever she may have felt for the smoke-furred lead warrior, but she knows what heartbreak feels like. She has known it well—not in the same manner, of course, but she has spent the past month fighting through her own loss. She may not care for Bluefrost, but she cares deeply for the flame-streaked daughter who presses her face into the deputy’s shoulder. "Did you…" Did you care for her, she does not ask. She does not dare. Instead, she says through gritted teeth, "She made a mistake. She will have to live with it." She does not deserve you, wildfire.

☽♰☾ IT WAS WAR, IT WASN’T FAIR

• ooc: —
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  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to none ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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