pafp THE PRICE YOU PAY FOR DREAMS [ ✦ ] waking up

[Starlingheart]

A day passed, but Starlinghearts eyes still did not open. Her eyelids fluttered, her limbs twitched, and it was obvious she was fighting some battle inside herself. There was a part of her that wanted to just let go, that was tired of the constant hunger, the grief, the suffering. But there was another part, a bigger part, that clung desperately to life. Her kits, her apprentice, her family, her friends. She had to keep fighting, had to keep living, for them. For her Clan. Everything she was she would always give for them. Even if letting go would finally mean peace. Magpiepaw was not done with his training, she would not leave him like her mentor had left her. Flintpaw and Nettlepaw, she had not seen them grow into warriors yet. She thinks of her dream, of one day creating a big family, one just like the one she had once had for that brief moment in time, back when she was still Starlingkit and the only thing that mattered was what bedtime story her mother would tell them that night.

Her mother. She thinks she sees her in her dreams. Her brother, too. They stand just out of her sight, no matter how much she twists and turns, desperate to catch even just a fleeting glance of them. She hears whispers in her ear, a voice that does not belong to anyone but belongs to everyone all the same "Not yet, not yet" it says and she understands.

Her eyes suddenly open and she lets out a groan at the feeling of fire in her throat, the pain of her wounds resurfacing. Throbbing, they hurt with every beat of her heart. "Ma-Magpiepaw!" she rasps out, despite how much her parched lips protest. Her eyes are wild as she takes in the shadows, as she tries to scramble to her feet only to cry out in pain as the wounds on her back legs tear open again. She needs to find him. He had been there, he had been out gathering herbs with her. What if Granitepelt, in his rage and insanity, what if after leaving her to die in that clearing he had gone to look for her apprentice as well?

That's when she notices something. Her wounds are dressed. Expertly. The way she taught him. Immediately, she stills, falls back into the nest that was now bloody from her attempts to move too fast and as her remaining good eye flickers to the entrance of her den, a shadow passes over it.

// please wait for @Magpiepaw

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[Magpiepaw]

—————————————————————⊰♰⊱————————————————————
Magpiepaw thought she was going to die and took it as a personal slight, he would not allow it. StarClan held his regards, he looked upon them and respected them in every way and watched their glistening visage with adoration and acceptance but he would not yield when it came to his mentor. They would not take her from him, he would claw her back down from the sky itself, he would sink his teeth into ethereal light and tear it to pieces as though it were finely spun webbing. She couldn't die, because if she did what even was he doing anymore?

He all but trips into the den at the sound of his name, his teeth clenched so tightly around the damp moss in his mouth that it begins to drip violently from the pressure and he has to force his jaws to part to drop it at her paws, "Starlingheart..."
She wore her name on her like a badge, a bird's heart - fragile and easily broken, and for once he wishes more than anything he had trained to be a warrior so he could have torn Granitepelt to pieces with ease. A part of him is angry they had not killed the two traitors, the mercy he once thought Chilledstar highly for was now nothing but an insult - spit in his face.
Pushing all those feelings away he focused on what was important, that she woke up at all. For brief moments he wondered if he had not been fast enough, if he had packed snow upon her too slowly and her lifeblood was already all but spilled across the ground; the relief in knowing he'd saved her did little to ease his regret at not stopping it, but it staunched the grief enough he could just focus on her.
"You...you're alright." One dark paw raised to place on her shoulder and he dipped his head down to touch the tip of his nose to the top of her head, "How fortunate you have trained such a skilled apprentice." The light smile that played across his maw did not reach his blue-violet gaze but the teasing remark was the only thing he could do to keep from breaking down on the spot.

————— ⸸ looks like the stars won't shine much longer ———— ⸸ so give me your hand

• OOC can go here.
• 
  
  
  Magpiepaw
  —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
  —⊰⋅ Has mild cerebellar hypoplasia (Wobbly cat syndrome)
  
  

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[NETTLEPAW ♡]

Nettlepaw had been watching. Even when he was not near the medicine den, he had been watching- aamant, ceaseless. The changes in mood, the shifting of faces- wide blue eyes were trained upon them all. If he caught the grave droop of grief on anyone's face, he would know to march into that den and laugh, point and laugh and rend the reputation of a healer who couldn't heal. The worst punishment was to be hated, after all.

No hate was to be found. When Nettlepaw lingered around the entrance and heard the low rumble of voices, he glanced within- caught the fluttering, green glimmer of his mother's gaze, and strode into the darkness without much more invitation as soon as Magpiepaw had finished speaking to her. Jayfeather eyes gleamed with gladness, as he set them upon his mother's apprentice. "I knew you'd do it," Nettlepaw said. Complimentary, but sincere all the same- and he was beaming. It had been his best guess, that Magpiepaw would succeed. What other option did he have?

Of course, his attention swiftly moved to his mother's face- newly scarred, but there was still the same full-hearted kindness beneath. Blue eyes softened even more, the only love he'd open his heart to, because he was sure she'd never betray it. "Mother," he said, voice brimming with relief and unable to add anything more. It was all she would need, he hoped. A greeting. An assurance she was still his mother, no matter what had happened. ​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[shrikesong]

Shrikesong has the rather irritating habit of lingering about the medicine den when she has little else to do. Expertly combing the territory for crow-food or visiting her well-hidden collection of souvenirs-slash-trophies aside, she often found herself surprisingly bored. ShadowClan was always supposed to be drenched in tragedy—everyone was constantly, endlessly complaining about it—but it was rarely that tragedy came with the smell of sweet-copper and sticky infection (or, in this case, bitter herbs). She supposes it must be fortunate that Magpiepaw has the good sense to properly dress their medicine cat's wounds, though it was so rare Shrikesong saw something fester...

She shakes her head. She oughtn't wish ill upon her Clanmates, even if the visual—and olfactory—effect would no doubt be interesting. So when she hears a pain-cry emit from the den's mouth, Shrikesong winds herself around one stony wall to linger on the sidelines. The warrior comes halfway to bumping into a wall before her eye focuses in the darkness. Starlingheart's apprentice is talking to her, she notes, and she listens with some interest. Starlingheart. Another cat bearing black and white fur and a birdish name, another cat who had made admittedly poor choices in romance. How funny.

"Mother," the other cat's child murmurs to her, and bitterness slicks the back of Shrikesong's throat. The warrior bites at her ragged cheek to suppress some uncontrolled reply, waits, and then asks, "Is she awake?" A pause, perhaps awkward, and she adds, "Apologies for intruding."

"speech"

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[smogstar]

During the time when Starlingheart was found with one paw in StarClan, Smogmaw chased tirelessly after pigeons on a hunting patrol. Pity how his vain efforts steered him blind from the ongoing atrocity. He'd returned to the camp that day, unawares of what brutal carnage befell the medicine cat, jaws lacking prey, claws untouched by wicked blood.

Frantic lilts told of the healer's condition—distressed mewls, yowls, and hisses alike all united as one. Certain retellings were coloured by stark exaggerations and falsehoods, twisting his sickened stomach all the more. Rumour and legend muddled his perceptions, rending Smogmaw skeptical when the clearing resounded with an anguished yelp. Naturally, the deputy follows in Nettlepaw and Shrikesong's stead, half-expecting an appalling caricature in place of ShadowClan's medicine cat. No empathetic currents run in his veins, no sympathy drips off his fur. Steeled by morbid expectancy, Smogmaw edges into the cave as though stalking prey.

What was it that one offbeat apprentice had mentioned? That her eyes were still attached, yet gouged out? Or was it her tail, or her jaw? A halfhearted cringe shapes Smogmaw's countenance before he fully entered, and only when he's enveloped in the shadow, sightline adapting and making out Starlingheart's features, does he settle into a stunned trance.

The previous description proved inaccurate in its scope, but the moonlit she-cat has been made a mockery of nonetheless. Her pelt is an abhorrent canvas of open wounds, wretched apart by crooked claws. Lacerations groove into her face and carve out an eye. They slice across her ears, leaving ragged tassels in place, and rake down her shoulders so voraciously, flesh lies in ribbons. In spite of it all, she yet sustains herself through breath, and her ample injuries seem attended to by Magpiepaw's meticulous care.

"Fox-dung!" Smogmaw ejects in a raspy exhale. Pity bites at his tongue and pools in his innards before he has the good sense to school his tone. Despite the ghastly tableau, an inappropriate, bizarre normalcy prevails among his disposition. Routine wins out, even in this theatre of her suffering. It's simply part of a recurring pattern, the brutal dismantling of this clan's safety. Smogmaw steadies his thoughts in hopes to regain some scrap of bearing. "Do we know what happened? What'd done this to her?"

An uneasy tempo has altered his inhalations since coming into the cave, lungs taut against his ribs. Contingencies and consequences spin into Smogmaw's ruminations. The clan is targetted, vilified, vulnerable; the blame is pinned easily enough on one of two cats whose intents are rather clearcut. Granitepelt, or Siltcloud. Could be either or, or a combination of both.

"You healed her from the belly of death. Your clan thanks you, Magpiepaw." He looks not towards the medicine cat's apprentice, however. Saffron eyes remain tethered to Starlingheart like some gruesome reel, unblinking as they take the image in whole. A keepsake to hold onto, in case Starlingheart doesn't survive this after all. ​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

there is a simmering anger within them. an anger that cannot be mistaken, as it dances dangerously within a gaze of ice and frigid cold. smogmaw had played a game. a silly stupid game of cat version mouse, chase the prey, while chilledstar lied dead in their den. they should have killed those foxbrains while they still had them in camp. blocked them from leaving and tore them to shreds. they long for the day when they can tear through the throat of their enemies, and right now? they're left with longing. smogmaw had made a mistake. a mistake that they were going to be blamed for.

the anger only stays when they hear that starlingheart is awake and their dear dear deputy responds with shock. who'd done this, he says. what has happened, he speaks. tch. while he was sitting around brooding, this happened. and he was late to know. of course he was. they only roll their eyes, before gently moving to give a soft nudge to magpiepaw and a soft greeting.

"thank you, little bird. i've brought the both of you something to eat."

they lack the drive to eat, themself, but they know that it would do the medicine cats good to eat. magpiepaw has grown into a fine one, and starlingheart needed all the strength she could get to heal properly.
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[Starlingheart]

It’s as if her prayer to the stars had been answered the second she lays eyes on that black and white form. Her gaze softens, her body once again goes slack and she falls back into her nest, relaxing. Granitepelt hadn’t gotten him or anyone else that she loved, they were safe. "I-Ive definitely felt-felt better" a half-hearted attempt at levity, she wants things to feel alright but her mind is spinning, images of Granitepelt looming over her, of the sky fading to black and the dreams that followed playing over and over again in her mid. "How fortunate in-indeed" she agrees softly, taking a moment to look again at the dressings her apprentice had applied to her wounds. Who could have ever guessed they would be in a situation such as this? But hadn’t this been exactly the kind of thing she has wanted to take on an apprentice for? A cat to take her place in the random chance that she could not heal. "Im proud of you Magpiepaw" she adds, her voice soft, her single remaining eye watering slightly with the threat of unspilled tears.

The sound of a voice calls her attention to the entrance of the den, and there she sees another face that she is more than glad is safe. Her son. If she could run to him, she would, she would get out of this nest and embrace him and tell him everything was going to be okay, like he was a kit waking up from a nightmare again. "Nettlepaw" she calls out, voice breaking in her relief. "Did you-did you ever doubt him?" she asks with a half hearted laugh. Magpiepaw was her apprentice after all, a reflection of her own teaching and skills. Of course he had been able to save her. Another cat comes in, asks if she is awake. "No-no it’s uh it’s okay. You’re not intruding. I’m-I’m awake but I uh I feel like I could suh-sleep for-for two more moons" her whole body ached in a way it never had before, even back when she had spent long days training to be a warrior under her brother.

Chilledstar and Smogmaw are next and her ears find themselves flicking to the back of her head at the sight of the gray furred deputy. They had never resolved things between themselves after their fight, and she feels awkward in his presence. So instead, her focus shifts to Chilledstar who has brought with them a gift. "That looks d-delicious thank you" she says, graciously accepting the prey. Her stomach felt the emptiest it had ever been and she recognizes that if she were one of her own patients she’d be encouraging them to eat about now too. If their stomach could handle it, they would need to keep their strength up in order to heal.

"Granitepelt" she answers finally, her words simple and her eyes set firmly on the mouse in front of her. She is loathe to say anything bad about him, even now. Not in front of their son, who was still so young, so impressionable and still healing from the last wounds her ex mate had left on all of them when it had been revealed what kind of a cat he truly was. "He-he ambushed me. In the forest while I-while I was alone. I tried to get away but…" she wasn’t strong enough, fast enough. She hadn’t been enough. "Im- I’m just glad no one else was-was hurt" she adds softly, claws picking at the fur of the prey between her paws as she speaks.

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[lilacfur]

The hours that passed after Starlingheart's return had been grueling. Lilacfur wasn't much help, clouded with every and any thought about what had happened to her littermate. How she had looked before Magpiepaw prettied her up in bandaged wraps and smothering the scent of blood and iron with poultices. There had to be an answer for this, she decided. No matter which sibling had done this she would get her moment to tear through them with claws- in due time.

Starlingheart needed the support of family first, something Lilacfur shouldn't have deprived her of when they first faced their tragedies. While she paced outside the medicine den, one of her Clanmates had lured her into relaxing enough for a drink. Upon her return she noticed the quivering tails of a few disappear into the den, and the soft rasping of her sisters voice.

"Starlingheart!" Lilacfur gasped as she saw the glow of a single emerald in the shadows. She reached down to press her forehead again the dark furred molly's and sniffed back a relieved sob. "I was so scared I would lose you, too. I would've- I'd have gone to StarClan myself to drag you back down." The cobwebs feel harsh compared to the soft fuzzy fur of her ears and cheeks. She stepped away only after realizing she was interrupting a much needed meal. Giving a sheepish 'sorry' Lilacfur backed into a spot beside Chilledstar.

"If it was Granitepelt... He's been hiding somewhere near. His scent isn't the same as Siltclouds." Tall grass and heather, she didn't even want to voice her suspicions in fear of being true. ​

[ i need the clouds to cover me ]​