sensitive topics THE ASHES FALL SLOWLY — discovery

[spiderpaw ✧]

🕸—— those who tend towards the southeastern end of the territory will be the first to find her. perhaps she'd been heading towards the sandy ravine, or the twolegplace border; her long washed-away pawsteps stopped in place, never to be completed, her destination never reached. always gangly and with a lifted chin in life, she looks small now, made small by death; curled in on herself, overlong limbs in a crumpled tangle. the pines reach high above over a gray morning sky, dismal, rainy; her fur is soaked in red and rain, not afforded the last dignity of her life's neatness. she has none of the undergrowth she'd once ushered escaping kittypets into, alone on the dusty pine-floored ground, small.

spiderpaw lays in a pool of blood that has long since stopped spreading, oozing watery twisted patterns around her, distorted by the light drizzle that must have battered her throughout the night. gashes tear into her throat, her belly, every part of her battered except for her proudest possession: her face. undisturbed except for a thin trail of blood running down her white chin, long lashes still for the last time, as though she were sleeping and not so torn she couldn't have survived even if she had been right next to camp. the wounds are deep, hungry, unyieldingly red; she is still in a puddle of iron that mats her once-lush fur.

the rain and wind that have thinned the lake of blood surrounding her cooled body have also obliterated almost any trace of scent; her heavy fur yields no explanation over the smell of copper, only the high wild odor of night rain and heavy winds and perhaps a hint of dog. nothing more; though the severity of the wounds suggest perhaps that single scent is the culprit, it could've been anything. spiderpaw can no longer offer a sarcastic answer, her body long gone cold; small, small and sad, in this lonely death.

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┏🕷°。⋆༺ OOC ˚₊𓆩༺🕸༻𓆪₊˚ INFORMATION ༻⋆。°🕷┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🕷༺

• ooc: tl;dr she's dead in the southeastern part of the territory; died violently, circumstances suggest dog but it's vague enough it's not able to be fully confirmed
  

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• 🕸 spiderpaw — for her dark fur and rank as an apprentice she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — apprentice — 8 ☾s —— spiderpaw is an awkward-looking white-splashed black smoke with pale ice-blue eyes; her heavily decorated appearance hints at a future beauty. a deep well of unhappiness fuels her bitchy demeanour; she's attempting to overcome it with the aid of her mentor, pigeonsong, but something might change that soon .... —— smells like hyacinths, dust, and metal ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #b2b1cf, thoughts in #bf211e —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; will flee ; might show mercy ; might kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, puppy crushes, plotting ; not open to serious romance, unplanned battles penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

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[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Spiderpaw and Figfeather had never gotten along. Their dueling personalities had conflicted with one another from when they first started sharing the apprentices den to Figfeather’s warrior hood. The last close interaction they had was when she had overheard the she-cat gossiping with Briarpaw, they had shared a tense moment before Figfeather made her leave. Despite their differences, she never would’ve wished for this. Amber eyes shine with tears and her jaw lays agape, her paws stand at the edge of the pool of blood that surrounds her clan-mate’s fallen body. The thick scent of blood was overwhelming and the cream she-cat has to muster all her strength not to turn around and hurl her breakfast into the forest’s lawn. Instead Figfeather lets out a scream, ”Spiderpaw, she’s dead!” Her limbs grow shaky off-setting her balance, she sinks to the ground and closes her eyes tightly. Shock consumes her and her mind races with disbelief on the scene she had encountered.

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Spiderpaw, she’s dead!

It catches him off guard from where he is, padding a ways away at the back of the procession. His gaze is idly passing the trees by; frown etched in soft stone. He did not know what to make of this world; grass studded, a cycle of life and death taking its hold within the persistent roots dotting Her skin. Often, he has wished for them to be gone. Perhaps if the world was devoid of such trivialities to get in his way, there were a number of things he would have spotted sooner. Blazestar's first dip into the forest; that excursion clipping the future with a butterfly's wings. The star - crossed thing that was his mate, floating atop nothing, when he'd first saw him, paws melding with the shadows.

Perhaps he would have seen the corpse more clearly then, too.

He has no real reason to not believe that it untrue. Figfeather is quite excellent at announcing what is in front of her. With languid steps, Dawnglare draws beside the golden tabby pelt. With the stretch of his muscles, he is craning over what was this molly's bedraggled corpse. Evidently, Spiderpaw. His eyes hold no gleam. There is a furrow of thelip, as he frowns. Cycle of life, as he understands it; but for some reason, this means more than nothing.

Poison, he thinks that is quite possible. In his mind, that is; for StarClan was part of the few who could do such a thing to him. Would he care for this cat simply because he should? No, he does not think so. The Medicine Cat scrunches his nose; death - scent wafting toward him at last. " Shame, " he rumbles; and he draws back into neutral stance.

She fought against something. Was that valiant at all?

No, Dawnglare would not think it so. He looks sadder than he should, but otherwise, he says nothing. He thinks of the lavender that he would soon coat her in, instead.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: —

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[TWITCHBOLT]

A cry, a scream- raked with grief, and Twitchbolt knew the voice. Figfeather- but it wasn't a scream of her own pain. It was one that cried out an obituary, instead- and a grim one, a life torn away before it had the fullest chance to begin. Stunned, he burst from the undergrowth- met with the stink of death and vague, vague dog. His heart plummeted to his paws, and- wrongly, for a moment, he thought of Centipedepaw.

His form quaked, and- paws that were not his own (or felt very much as if they weren't, for he was still moving, somehow) carried him forward, settling beside Figfeather. What felt like a stone was swallowed, whatever he was about to say dying in his throat. At last, at last, something struggled out. "We have to..." And it was weak, and meant nothing for the moment. He closed his eyes. Shock, shock and grief. Spiderpaw was not kind to him, but neither was Centipedepaw. Neither were Tidespin, nor Ravencall. That surging grief stayed, despite that- persisted, for all that could and should have been. It was a dying feeling that he forced down, for now... one he could feel later, under moonlight and a veil of lavender.

A pink nose twitched, and so too spasmed a neck-muscle- eyelids stuttered open, and at last he could look again. His jaw tightened. "Dog, but... it's weak. And stale. We shhh-should... try and track..." Willpower died again, but he dredged it back up, forcing it and forcing it until it spat itself out of his mouth. Wide eyes looked to Figfeather- to Dawnglare, to Spiderpaw. "She needs to go home, first." His tone was horror-raked, unsteady, but at least he'd managed to say it.
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penned by pin ✧​

 

[Fireflyglow]

TIt's a bitter feeling, staring down at the body of a cat he once couldn't stand the presence of- she was a clanmate, though. Part of him aches at the thought of having to bury her amongst lavender and pine needles, but as he sniffs at the corpse, Fireflypaw finds finality in the she-cat's death. Shame, The high priest's voice calls, and Fireflypaw nods his agreement. Numb, he sniffs around the molly's neck before he bites down on her scruff, lifting her limp body off of the ground to carry her back to camp. Massive limbs stretch as he stands to his full height for once, and with ease he carries the smaller apprentice alongside his clanmates- if they helped, they helped. His job was to bury the dead, to remember them.

"May she rest in peace.." He murmurs around stone-cold skin, around the scent of someone who could have been a friend if she just.. opened up, for once. The cat she was closest to, Briarpaw- where was she? Where was her mentor? "Mother help us." He prays softly to the ground.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 12 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[flowercloud.]

"Why are the dogs coming so far into the territory?" She speaks low, her gaze softened and a pang in her heart towards the young apprentice.Spiderpaw was young, she had a full life ahead of her. And even if she was a gossip, she would have one day made to be a skyclan warrior, and had a whole life ahead of her.

Death was a common occurrence and not one she wished upon anyone. The apprentice did not deserve it. And too much of it was happening, but it is the life of a wild cat. The unfortunate existence. the fluffy point would dip her head in a moment of silence, her eyes closing. A small parting message now, before the apprentice would be surrounded in the funeral later.

"I'll assist in carrying her." She offered, her ears flattening.

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar is late to the scene, but he knows the stench of blood and the faint reek of dog in the air can mean nothing good. His Clanmates are clustered around a mound of limp dark fur, and as he draws near, his heart sinks like stone into his stomach. “Spiderpaw,” he says, grief flashing in his eyes. There’s no trace of the dog now—but it had left one of their apprentices brutalized, had left its mark on their Clan. Blazestar remembers coming between Spiderpaw and Chrysaliswing’s spat—but he also remembers the courage the sharp-tongued young she-cat had shown on the shelter rescue patrol.

He draws a shaky breath. “Please, Flowercloud, Figfeather, help Dawnglare and Fireflypaw get her back to camp.” He looks at Twitchbolt and nods. “We’ll need to make sure the dog left our territory. We don’t want this happening to anyone else.” The Ragdoll’s ears are flat against his skull as he orders his Clanmates into action, but before he accompanies his lead warrior on their excursion, he dips his head to press his nose into cold near-black fur. “Goodbye, Spiderpaw.”

// sorry this is so late AGH

✧ INFO.

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  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

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