private TOREADOR MARCH ✧ sootstar

[GRANITEPELT]

There’s no moon in the sky—it’s dark, especially in ShadowClan where the shadows are dense and long. Though cicadas shear the air with their shrill cries, the marsh is otherwise eerily silent. He hears pawsteps near the secret tunnel linking their territory to WindClan, and he positions himself carefully, within a thicket of marsh grass so that Sootstar can see him, but no passerbys could.

There is a weariness to Sootstar that he had not anticipated seeing. Her features are still lovely, as though crafted by StarClan’s paws, but her demeanor has changed enough to startle Granitepelt. He makes note of it, but it would be a fool’s errand to ask why she looks off, so he pretends not to notice.

“Greetings, Sootstar. I come bearing news.” He dips his head formally. “Chilledstar is sick with yellowcough. I fear it’s only a matter of time before they lose a life.” Perhaps Sootstar would see this as an opportunity—perhaps not. He simply feels it’s news worth sharing.

“I also fear our deputy will have an unpleasant homecoming.” His smile drips mock sadness. “Smogmaw’s mate is sick with yellowcough, and she’s passed away. Her kits survive… his second and last litter. With her, at least.” He’s unaware of any sore spot this could provoke. He knows Sootstar is no friend of Smogmaw’s, however—there’s bad blood there, for good reason. Perhaps it would cheer her up to know he’d lost his beloved Halfshade.

After a few heartbeats and whatever response offered to him, he finally says, “I told you about my son, Flintkit—how he was sick with yellowcough. ThunderClan had given Starlingheart some lungwort… she used her final two to make sure he survived.” He leaves the implication hanging in the air—that inadvertently, a mother’s love had killed Halfshade, or Loampelt, or Heavybranch. A mother’s love.

ooc ✧ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊, 𝖎 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖔 - 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗, 𝖎 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚?

• @SOOTSTAR
•  
• 

  — granitekit . granitepaw . granitepelt
  — he/him ; warrior of shadowclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Starlingheart
  — short-haired gray tom with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Meg

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[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR​

Sootstar barely had the energy to make this trek, this risk today. But she knew if she spoiled the upperpaw she had in ShadowClan she'd claw her face off many moons from now. She just hopes Granitepelt's news today dooes not disappoint, coming out here better be worth while. The faint outline of her figure can be seen in the tunnel, yet she does not poke her head out from the shadows. She's weary and twitchy, taking no risks to reveal herself to any passerby patrols. Chilledstar is ill, that is the first bit of news he shares. Her eyes vaguely warm, shes cruelly pleased by this news and can only hope they will lose a life from their condition. Granitepelt also reveals Halfshade, Smogmaw's mate, has passed. This- this makes her whiskers quiver- and then she laughs before she can hush herself. "Oh... good, good. You'll have to tell me- the look on his face when he returns." Seems she would not be the only cat left mate-less, who better than that vile Smogmaw to suffer her same pain? She hopes it hurts; she hopes he lives the treacherous mountains only to return to his mate dead. 'I told you about my son, Flintkit' Flint...kit? She gives the gray and white tom a dumbfounded look mixed with blatant disgust. "You... named it Flintkit?!" She cannot hide her displeasure and she is mistakeably, not quiet about it either. For as skittish as she was just a few moments ago, the blue she-cat seems to have lost her focus. She hardly has it in her to be pleased that such a thing with such a... disgraceful name managed to survive. By cursing it with such a title Granitepelt was lucky it had even survived. "...Glad that it survived. Would not have wanted something so young to go that soon." She avoids labeling 'Flintkit' as anything more than a 'thing'... After all she told him about his father she can't believe he went off and named one of his own spawn after him. "WindClan deals with rogues, I'm afraid I'll not be able to take advantage of your clan's disadvantages... Is there any other news you can offer me?" She asks, managing to move on from the disgracefully named kit.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepelt’s smile grows incrementally at Sootstar’s initial reaction to Halfshade’s death. “Oh… good, good. You’ll have to tell me the look on his face when he returns.” He dips his head in acknowledgment. “I will, provided he returns.” It’s the first time he’s verbalized his doubts about the journeying cats to another. He shrugs, tail curling. “If not, well… that’s surely only another blessing for you, at least.” He does not despise Smogmaw the way he had Halfshade, but he cannot help but be suspicious of the heavy-faced gray tabby—suspicious and wary.

He prepares to speak again when something in Sootstar’s face changes. Her features shift—all at the mention of Flintkit—into disgust. Granitepelt’s ears lower, in both outrage and in a gesture of submission to her will. “I… that is the strongest name I could have given my son. He looks just like me. I thought it would be fitting, to bestow honor onto that name again.” His anger tightens. “It’s the she-kit who bears a cursed name… Ghostpaw. Would that that creature had never been born.” It doesn’t cross his mind that Sootstar does not know about Ghostpaw, or Poppypaw, or Pitchstar, even—and he falters, looking the WindClan leader in her green eyes.

“I…” He clears his throat, shuffling his paws. “Perhaps I should tell you, since we have a blood pact.” He remembers their paw pads squishing together under the moon. “There are some cats ShadowClan needed ridding of. Pitchstar—surely you remember how crazy he was in his final moon, how paranoid. He rotted away in his den. He was cruel, filthy, he—” Familiar hatred sparkles in his eyes. “I killed him. I killed him with nightshade my mate had asked me to rid her of. And there are others. Ghostpaw, Poppypaw, Tornadopaw. All of them—all of them knew too much.” His lip curls. “I’m telling you this because—because you need to know that I will do anything that I have to to protect my mate, and my—you.”

A strange ending, but he finds himself grappling with his own ideals in that moment. Would he kill at Sootstar’s behest? His claws sink into the marshy earth, ears pricked for the sounds of pawsteps among the crickets and frog’s song.

He finally says, “ShadowClan deals with rogues, too. Perhaps they are the same rogues?” His breath is shaky from the weight of his confession. He has never spoken of them all. Siltcloud does not even know about the part he’d played in Poppypaw’s death, nor how he’d stolen into the medicine cat’s den to silence Tornadopaw.

But now, Sootstar does.

ooc ✧ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊, 𝖎 𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖔 - 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗, 𝖎 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚?

•  
•  
• 

  — granitekit . granitepaw . granitepelt
  — he/him ; warrior of shadowclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Starlingheart
  — short-haired gray tom with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Meg

​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR​

She looks at him disapprovingly. Bestow honor onto the name? She says let it rot, if Granitepelt wanted to bring honor to his blood and bolster himself he should’ve opted to name the look alike after himself. Not some good for nothing tom. He mentions a Ghostpaw, a name Chilledstar might’ve spoken at the gathering once or twice to announce their birth and apprenticeship. She notices him falter, impatiently she waits for him to get on with it, he had more to say. What he says next though, it utterly shocks her. Her eyes widen and she jeers her head back in disbelief, he had killed Pitchstar?! To add to the already bizarre confession he reveals he’s killed more. Ghostpaw, Poppypaw, and Tornadopaw. Three apprentices, and an entire leader. In the moment she has half a mind to blame him for ShadowClan and WindClan’s crippled alliance- but instead she laughs. ”I wish I could say your efforts to rid ShadowClan of it’s plague of hare-brains was working. With each you squish two more rear their heads.” Pitchstar’s death had given them Chilledstar and Smogmaw, Sootstar wishes for the days back where the black and white feline was a measely deputy. Sootstar finds less surprise rogues are also bothering ShadowClan, but it makes her grow concerned. How many of these lawless felines were there at the edge of their borders? ”Our rogues jeer at our borders, steal our prey. A few of my clan has fought with them only to lose.” It was a humiliating fact to confess. ”I doubt they’ll cause too much of an issue, but I worry with ShadowClan having troubles with them too. Only StarClan knows what’s drawn them all here, but they’ve picked the perfect time.”

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[GRANITEPELT]

◇────────────【☆】★【☆】────────────◇​

XXXXXHe hadn’t been sure what Sootstar’s reception to his stunted confession would have been. Outrage—had she been a friend of Pitchstar’s, truly? Disapproval of a cat who had betrayed not one leader, but two? He waits with bated breath, but exhales slowly with puzzlement as she laughs. “I… I’m not—” He corrects himself, his frown returning and his poise grasped within his claws. “Y…yes. It’s a slow process. ShadowClan is full of… how did you put it, harebrains?” He snorts quietly.

XXXXXShe seems more concerned with the rogues plaguing both of their borders. Granitepelt’s ear flicks. “I imagine WindClan will see more trouble. Rogues want food, if anything. ShadowClan has little to offer in that regard.” He dips his head. “I hope at least some of what I’ve reported is useful, but I must return to my camp before I’m missed. Shall we meet again when the moon is the same in the sky?” He looks at her with green eyes glowing expectantly.

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