pafp THE BIG GLOOM ☽☾ grave visitors

˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 Ashenpaw nearly giggled at the ridiculousness of the little squad he had assembled that evening. In an effort to curb their clanmates' bad habit of being murdered spectacularly gorily the moment anyone turned a blind eye to one another, Chilledstar had decreed a compulsory buddy system for the foreseeable future. Of course, Ashenpaw was hardly going to let these limitations keep him from partaking in his habitual visitation of the clan's graveyard, and so if they wanted to be a burr on his butt-fluff about it, so be it.

The kid was there too because she jumped at the chance to pester her way into any opportunity to see beyond the briar walls of camp. She was bounding alongside them, just happy to be having a daytime outing, presumably. Whatever, it wasn't like there was an age-restriction on visiting a dead clanmate or two. What an awful name, by the way. Ashenpaw knew Ferndance was always a little bit muddy-brained, but truly the woman had to have nothing but wind and leaflitter whooshing around in there to attach such violent imagery to her daughter's existence.

They enter the burial grounds and Ashenpaw is quick to begin making his rounds sweeping away stray pine needles and twigs littering the ground from the night previous. He's content to pretend like Chilledstar and Bloodpaw aren't there for a little while, until a familiar tickle at his mouth leads him to turn his attention to his infant classmate once more.

"Do you know why you're named... like that...?" Mismatched eyes glitter with a detached interest toward the little tabby, skulking over to a familiar grave, neat and tidy as he'd seen it yesterday, "Your mother felt like giving birth outside of camp," (for whatever dull-witted reason he did not know, he didn't super care about any of the woman's psychological excuses trailing after the carnage) "... But then a fox sniffed her out, to eat her and you and your siblings and whatnot.. But there was an apprentice named Sprucepaw, and she came to fight it off all by herself like she was a hero or something. It was certain death, of course, but she succeeded. The scene afterward was crazy though, tons of blood all over the place, you know... Hence-" He gestured vaguely at the existence of Bloodpaw.

"The more you know, right...? Anyways... hey Sprucepaw." He yawned and settled by the apprentice's final resting place, curling a tail around idle paws. He didn't quite know why he was feeling so generous with his knowledge today, but oh well.

  • OOC: please wait for @BLOODPAW ! @CHILLEDSTAR.
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  • ashenkit . ashenpaw
    — ftm transmasc. he/him. 11mo apprentice of shadowclan. mentored by smogmaw
    — muted blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
    — smells of rainsoaked fern and swamp milkweed
    all ic opinions!
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — sig by nya, fullbody by antiigone, sticker by saturnid
    — penned by eezy
 
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Her siblings would be so, so jealous she'd managed to bully her way into a visit to the outside world. It was mere steps away from camp, but to Bloodpaw, it felt like the other side of the forest, and her peppy paw steps reflected this. Even as her neck began to strain from looking about, she kept up to Ashenpaw with ease, as if broad paws had been made for long-distance strides. She almost didn't pay attention when they arrived at their destination, her attention on the little bits of foliage that were smothered as they passed. 'So cool! Leaves are cool.' Words from the front caused her head to whip upwards, then tilt - did she know who she was named after? Duh! "Yeah, I'm named after a hero." Sprucepaw, the figure of righteousness that the cinnamon tabby longed to be. She'd been told the story, but it never sunk in more than the moral of it: self-sacrifice was badass. Ashen told it differently, not quite annoyed, but certainly not with the happiness she'd come to expect when discussing a legend.

Still, she listened, her ears perked forwards until the end of Ashenpaw's tale. "Oh... so I'm named after the blood of a hero..." Something twisted in Bloodpaw, not a knife, but instead, something akin to a muscle that needed to be worked to feel better. A smile began to creep onto the maw of the apprentice, excitement thrumming in her heart. It was so much more intimate to be named after something as personal as blood, she hadn't seen hers often, which meant it was a privilege to witness it spilled - StarClan she wished she could've opened her eyes and seen Sprucepaw in all her glory. Then, Ashenpaw announced they were standing above her, and copper eyes fluttered downwards. The weight of death did not know how to settle within the apprentice, something in her heart shifted, but without witnessing it, it was difficult to know what such a feeling meant. Bloodpaw moved forwards, pressed her nose to the soil, and gave the earth a long lick. Cats returned to the earth when they died, right? That meant that Sprucepaw was the loam?

Her tastebuds said otherwise. She shook her head and recoiled immediately, tongue blepping from a disgusted mouth. A venomous stink-eye was offered to the older apprentice. "Ew... that's not Sprucepaw! Cats don't taste like that!" She looked to Ashenpaw for answers.
 
I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH — Unlike Ashenpaw, Onyxpaw hadn't made a common habit out of visiting the clan's graveyard. Part of her avoidance of it was, admittedly, for selfish reasons. In spite of how strong her faith in Starclan was, the thought of dying terrified her. She wanted to admire the cats made of starlight from afar rather than joining their ranks anytime soon, and whenever she grew close to the graveyard she found that her fear was heightened even more so than usual. Though honestly she wasn't really sure why - it wasn't as if the dead were suddenly going to rise from their graves and drag her down to hers. Maybe it was just all the reminders that built up the entirety of the place, familiar names and forgotten faces plaguing the young apprentice whenever she happened to drift nearby.

If it were up to her, she would probably just avoid the place entirely.

Unfortunately, things weren't always up to her - sometimes they were up to her mentor, Avocetfall. They had insisted on the pair of them leaving after Ashenpaw and his little entourage to assist with the upkeep of the graveyard overall, and had refused to budge no matter how much Onyxpaw protested or stammered out excuses. She wasn't getting out of it this time, a fact that had caused her heart to sink and her tail to swing low as she trudged after Avocetfall. Though that didn't last long, considering dragging her tail on the ground just made it get covered in muck and grossness. At least she would be far from alone in the middle of all that death, ears twitching as she caught sight of Chilledstar and Bloodpaw alongside Ashenpaw. Though Bloodpaw's actions didn't exactly make her feel better - at least she was feeling disgust instead of fear?

Her ears flicked back, stepping away from one of the nearby graves as she shook her head frantically in Bloodpaw's direction. "I don't think... that expression isn't meant to be literal. Sprucepaw is under the dirt, not a part of it. You're just licking dirt." And probably a fair bit of marsh that had been brought over by others, all things considered. Onyxpaw was still frowning as she reached out with a paw, patting lightly at the stone that marked Sprucepaw's grave. "I hope that Sprucepaw is at least happy, wherever she is that isn't the dirt. I bet Starclan really did welcome her as a hero for what she did." Though she hadn't been present for the fox attack itself - and too young to even venture out of camp at the time - she had certainly heard stories about it. Mostly ones condemning Ferndance for leaving when she was about to deliver, but a fair few singing Sprucepaw's praises as well.


  • 75034637_eiCvVhxv9vQNT6l.png
    shorthaired tortoiseshell point and chocolate point chimera with blue eyes
    5 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    bisexual; crushing on yellowpaw
    daughter of monarchroot and sleetjaw
    shadowclan born; silently loyal to her home
    difficult to befriend; shy to most except yellowpaw
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 
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The graveyard was not normally so loud or crowded when he visited. While ShadowClan had no such shortage of dead friends and kin to visit, it was a quiet place. A peaceful strip of land that lacked the dangerous presence and gloom like the rest of the marsh. At least, for the snowy tom he found it to be brighter here. Each patch of earth neatly marked for their fallen Clanmates, there was hardly one he came across that wasn't carefully maintained by their survivors.

Jaggedpath did not have anyone in particular to visit when he swung by, but rather used to tranquility of the graveyard to break away from the craze of his duties as a warrior. Ruffled ears perked up at the sound of several voices, apprentices, and a crooked smile placed itself on his maw. "Mm-mm but when you're w-with the dirt f-for sss-so long... Don't you? Become it?" Jaggedpath's voice sounded rickety and hushed, speaking more inwardly to himself than what was supposed to be heard aloud.
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  • // OOC
  • image here optional
  • (( jaggedpath )) fluffy white tom with black speckles on his muzzle and bright blue eyes
    ↳ shadowclan, warrior, cismale he/him
    easy to make friends with | bad at romance | good at teaching | bad with kits
 
DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP

they visited the graveyard a lot too. their mother isn't buried here, no, but they think of her all the same. usually, they come to visit all of their clan, stopping and talking more at pitchstar's grave. they stare at the dirt in which he was buried beneath, gaze glossing over. they hardly even hear what ashenpaw is saying to bloodpaw, but they hear enough to just shake their head. she was named bloodpaw because her parents were a bit morbid. but if she liked it, who were they to judge? they didn't care about a name. they cared about who the young apprentice would become. bloodpaw would he bloodpaw until she earned her warriors name. she was rather optimistic about her name anyways. good for her.

"suppose that's true, jaggedpath."

they muttered, loud enough to be heard. it's been nearly 12 full moons since pitchstar died. did he return to the earth yet? did their mother? or briarstar? they don't know. they're not sure they want to think about it.