THE BLACK RABBIT OF INLÉ [ an encounter ]

[mothmoon]

( ✧ ) when the wind blows low over the prairie, when evening descends and fog creeps across the land, obscuring signs of life, pelts prickle and paws tread carefully along familiar paths. withered grasses sway in the waning light, skeletal branches reaching their twisted limbs towards the overcast sky. the mournful cry of a distant raven echoes through the desolation, its haunting melody sends shivers up the spine of any who venture out upon the veiled land. the moorland becomes a spectral realm, the boundary between the living and the dead blurred until one cannot know for certain which domain they wander.

in the dismal moonlight, the pale pelt of a feline glows slightly amongst the fog. the goddess pads softly along a well-worn trail, paws slipping into the grooves of pawsteps left before her. in her jaws, a scrawny rabbit swings, fur patched and ribs clear under the thin pelt. mothmoon silently makes her way home, trying to stop the heavy anxiety that has settled in her stomach just as the mist has settled the moor. eyes of dark amber flick from side to side, narrowed in an attempt to see further than a few fox lengths before her as she winds through the moor, steps quick and light. as the warrior of wind rounds a corner, a sliver of moonlight breaks from the sky, beaming down upon the rustling grasses. mothmoon halts, eyes widening as she throws her head around to find her patrol. "look," she whispers, voice pitched.

amidst the swirling mist that cloaks the eerie landscape, there emerges a chilling sight. a shadow-dark rabbit with fur as inky as the abyss. its pelt absorbs what little light remains from the clouded sky, rendering it nearly invisible save for its ominous silhouette. two blood-red eyes, like burning coals, pierce through the haze, emanating an unsettling glow. the rabbit moves with an uncanny grace, its movements both etherial and disconcerting as it hops silently through the fog. each hop leaves an eery, fleeting imprint in the damp earth, like ghostly footprints in the night. its presence defies the natural order, a spectral figure that sends a shiver down the spine of anyone who catches a glimpse, a creature that seems to have emerged from the darkest corners of imagination to haunt this misty moorland.

the patrol stands stock still in the grass as the creature moves slowly towards them. memories of an elders' tale surface unwillingly in the thoughts of the young warrior, and she whispers softly to her clanmates; "the tale of the black rabbit of death is a myth, right?" brows furrow, legs locked as she stares at the crimson eyes that gleam in the dim moonlight. "i can't be the only one seeing this."

// plot twist it's a normal rabbit whose eyes are reflective in the moonlight but the patrol doesn't know that yet. prompt fill! ​

 

[Goldenstrike]

i'm no good man, you won't forget◎—————————————————
Maybe as a kit Goldenstrike would find a cold foggy night fearful, but now he instead liked the darkness. Even on nights like this where not one star shined he felt a connection, not to say he liked the connection, the stars were silent to his woes. But, just as a kit will plead at their inattentive mother's ears, he too still try to beg for answers and in return feel safe below a supposedly caring eye.

Though it was harder and harder to believe that Starclan cared for Windclan at all. Though it probably had to do with Sootstar, an anger that while only directed at one cat ended up effecting all of them? But he didn't have time for questioning Starclan and their ways, he was busy trying to get food for the clan despite his own thinning frame. By some miracle he also held a ratty looking hare in his jaws. It didn't smell sick but it certainly didn't put up much chase when he caught it, so who knows, what would it hurt at this point though? He kept his head down as he walked along with the patrol, not paying any mind to anything really besides the fact that he wanted to go to bed.

He was in such a daze that he didn't even notice that Mothmoon had stopped dead in her tracks until he nearly ran into her, lifting his gaze up with a furrowed brow he followed her eyes to see what could possibly be so important. In the fog stood the oddest looking rabbit he'd ever seen, it made his fur bristle a little with unease. He quirked an eyebrow at it as he set the rabbit he held down on his paws. He didn't like the lagomorph, that was for certain. Then Mothmoon started sharing ghost stories, and that moved his attention from the rabbit to her "It's too late then." what more death could there be on the moor? Honestly, something about the ghost story made Goldenstrike a little less concerned about it? Maybe because it was supposed to be an omen of death, because really, what other death could it predict? The camp was already rotting away, and everyone knew it. "I could go catch it. It would be an omen for itself?" he was half joking, honestly though if catching the thing meant the patrol could go to bed sooner he would take the risk of death.
rude words i said, i'm still a mess◎————————◎penned by WriteAboutRadish
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[Bluepool]

Bluepool is a superstitious cat. She believes whole heartedly in bad omens, believes whole heartedly in straying away from the unknown. If something was off, wrong, it was her opinion that it was best left alone. When she catches up with the rest of the patrol and lays eyes on the thing that they are talking about she feels a chill run up her spine. Immediately, her mind goes to her sister, her seeming denunciation of StarClan. Was this because of her? Were the stars angry at WindClan because of Sootstar and now they were sending signs to the moors to express their displeasure? Bluepool is almost certain of it.

"I'll be leaving such a thing alone, but if you want to risk catching it be my guest" Perhaps Goldenstrike did not care about such things as bad luck but she did, and she would be damned if she brought a creature like that to the prey pile with Sootstar acting the way she was. It would be asking for trouble.

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OOC NOTES . ✦ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  

  ➵ she / her
  ➵ WindClan lead warrior & moor runner
  ➵ single
  
  

  

  - - a small, silver tabby she cat with short fur a cropped tail and yellow eyes
  ↪ toyhouse [ ✦ ]
  
  - - Reckless. Impulsive. Spontaneous. These are all the words that may come to mind if asked to describe Bluepool. She is an incredibly loyal cat who loves her family, her friends, and her clan fiercely. She is well known for her outspoken behavior, often just speaking whatever is on her mind or diving into things without really stopping to consider the consequences of her actions first. Once she has set her mind on something it is difficult to get her to change it.
  ↪ ESTP-A 'the entrepreneur'
  
  ➵ skilled fighter ; decent hunter
  ➵ SOOT CLAW X PEBBLE BREEZE; sister to sootstar and mintshade
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[SOOTSPOT]

A myth was only as real as one believed it to be. Where the chimera saw the potential to investigate, he leaped at the opportunity, yet the hesitance of his clanmates brought Sootspot to an uneasy heel besides Mothmoon. Soil soaked his paws as he entered a crouch, squinting hard to look through the tall grasses that concealed his ashen form. He had crept up onto the Moor Runner's patrol like a shadow, only joining because the pickings below had been slimmer than Leafbare. Goldenstrike's words caused his ears to flick, reminded of the argument that had plagued their camp just days past. Death had claimed many of WindClan, but if all StarClan could send to warn them was prey, then it bolstered him with confidence; they would make it to dawn, with or without the help of their ancestors. Glinting eyes seemed to bear into the tom, even as Sootspot was certain that the rabbit could not see him. He tilted his head, confused for a spell before he shook his head and steadied himself with weasel-like claws sunk firmly into the earth. "That's the funny thing about omens. Perhaps we die today, or many moons away, and the elders would still be right in saying all those who cross the black rabbit are doomed."


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