private THE SHEPHERD OF THE DAMNED ✧ cottonpaw, moorpaw

[WEASELCLAW]

Usually, it is Wolfsong who comes to bring the herbs. There are good days and bad days—days where Weaselclaw recognizes his friend, the cat he’d fought in multiple battles alongside, where he is grateful for the herbs to soothe his throat and fever. On the less-good days, Weaselclaw bares his teeth and snaps, confusing the medicine cat for an unnamed, unseen and incomprehensible enemy. The tabby swats at herbs, refusing to take them and imploring Moorpaw to do the same when he remembers she’s here with him.

Today seems to be a good day. When Weaselclaw lifts his head, his weepy blue eyes find the bright equivalent nested in his youngest daughter’s soft face. “Cottonpaw?” A smile touches his pale muzzle. “Stars, I’ve missed—”

It’s that word, stars, that causes the lead warrior to freeze. StarClan, StarClan had chosen Cottonpaw, knowing what her father and her mother have done. What they continue to do. While Sootstar stalks corpse-scented forests in her dreams and in death, Cottonpaw is mired by silver, star-kissed mists.

Weaselclaw’s eyes take on a suspicious glint. “What do you want with me?” He bares his teeth, his tail lashing weakly in the nest beside him.

✧ INFO.

• @cottonpaw @MOORPAW
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Wolfsong is a kind and attentive mentor, even when rushed and scared. He tries to teach her well, to hammer practices and usages into her head, but for some reason many of them don't stick as easily with her. Perhaps they both needed a break, or perhaps Wolfsong wanted just to give her means of seeing some of her family again - regardless, he packs her up with some leaves, instructions, and hope. Cottonpaw grabs a rabbit on her way.

The warrior that takes her stands a healthy distance from the badger sett as Cottonpaw strides closer. She drops the rabbit first, herbs clutched to her chest as she tries to remember the order of them. Weaselclaw spots her before she has the chance to find him, and warmth floods her chest before chilling her ribcage. Even just seeing him breathing, as wheezy as he is, was enough for her for a moment.

But his tone grows icy, his eyebrows furrow and he closes off before she gets the chance to greet him. Wolfsong mentioned hallucinations, but in truth she was never sure what it meant. If anything, Cottonpaw feels like this is that Magpiepaw situation all over again. Does the illness make the sick relive awful memories, maybe?

"Weaselclaw," she addresses him in her soft tone, unwilling to be tough with the lead warrior. The herbs are sat aside and she chooses to bring the rabbit closer, if allowed, "Weaselclaw, I just want you to eat. You can't go another day nibbling at your food like... ha, like a rabbit," she paws the deceased prey with a short laugh, though it feels dead in the water as she's truthfully unsure how to handle the situation.​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Cursedly, a flash of clarity comes to Weaselclaw as Cottonpaw pleads with him. His daughter’s enormous blue eyes beseech him as her voice does, sweet as a sparrow’s: “Weaselclaw, I just want you to eat. You can’t go another day nibbling at your food like… ha, like a rabbit,” she tries, her laughter shaky. The tabby puts both pale paws against either side of his throbbing skull, giving a low and dreadful moaning sound. His insides are being shredded. His mind is hurting as much as his body is. But as he reaches through layers of consciousness, he finds a near-memory, one still warm like a body.

“I placed the cotton tuft at Wolfsong’s den,” a voice taut with dread tells him. Plumes of silver smoke. The nearness of his beloved, of Cottonpaw’s mother. He looks at his youngest with dread-filled, fever-bright eyes.

“You are cursed,” he says simply, though his heart weeps behind his distorted expression. He reaches for Moorpaw absently, but if he were to touch her, he would recoil. “You all are, now.”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[cottonsprig]

She's far from cautious with her father, even in his volatile state she remains sturdy and loving. Cottonpaw has learned over her nine months of life that Weaselclaw's fury extends beyond his words and tone - that the claws of his namesake are deadlier than that of a hawk's. Yet with his children, he has give. The slightest slack that is pulled taut should one of them fumble. Her, Addervenom - any of them. He is strict but he is not uncaring and even in his hallucinatory state he is her father.

And it hurts. His blue eyes meeting her own, softening with a spot of sickly clarity. His claws all but shred his ears and his voice vibrates in his chest in ways far different from purrs. He's in agony, though Cottonpaw knows so little of what ails him more than his illness. He looks up at her, solemnly, sadly.

"You are cursed."

His words are simple and met with confusion. Cottonpaw grabs the rabbit's leg, dragging it closer to her family, "No, it's okay. Those on the journey -" she tries to soothe him, promise him his destined cure, but she cannot speak fast enough no matter how much she tries. His voice softens with pain and she almost tremors herself, the way he shirks away from Moorpaw's touch. "You all are, now." She affords her sister a glance, an eyebrow raised with growing concern for their father. Her voice is lost in her throat as she is far from sure how to even address his claims. Should she push the rabbit closer? Should she find the herbs once again and try to remember the fated order?

"I'm... not sure what you mean," she swallows her uncertainty, and for better or for worse, her curiosity bubbles to her lips, "You can tell me all about it, Weaselclaw. Let me... let me shoulder your pain with you. I may not be able to - to cure you outright, but, Dad -" she stammers, mouth dry with the slip up, "Weaselclaw," his honor as a warrior is above their relationship even if she pleads to him as his daughter and not his medic. "I can be here for you. Let me be here for you, please."​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Lake-blue eyes with the same depth of clarity focus and rest upon his daughter. His favored daughter, the child he’s always held closest to his heart. His sons and Moorpaw are his legacy, and Bluepaw is her mother’s creature, cold and distant and otherworldly, but Cottonpaw is his kit, his baby. He looks at her now, and the ghosts in his mind begin to crowd around the corridors of his brain, whispering sinister things.

“I can’t tell you,” he whispers, the frenzied strength long gone from him. “I can’t tell you, but you are still special… no matter what. Don’t ever… don’t ever let anyone believe you aren’t.” StarClan-blessed or not, she was his, she was Sootstar’s, and there was still power in her tufted white paws. There had to be.

After a moment, he sighs. “Leave me now. I need to sleep.” His eyelids slip to cover his eyes, and within moments, he is sleeping softly.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​