border TRAPPED WITHIN AN ABSTRACT ✦ messengers

[GREENEYES]

It’s a grueling march. Slow and silent, somber in its length. The air grows cold, but its nothing in comparison to the chill sent through Greeneyes at the news his patrol carries.

It’s etched in his mind: the sight, the smell — a mangled High Priest and his counterpart, a verdant pungency in death. His home grows suffocating once more, and Greeneyes wishes he could be more grateful for the chance to get away. To breathe.

But how can he, when the cinnamon tom’s last words to him — to his mate, to SkyClan — are an incessant loop in his mind? A mosquito in his ear: You are SkyClan’s downfall.

Do his patrol mates think the same, now the medicine cat’s return has been made in horrific display? Had the High Priest known his fate all along? Had he known what weapon he bared — a stronger strike than that made in a healer’s skirmish?

His breath hitches as a night-pointed face comes to mind. Fireflyglow. He should be back home, should be comforting his mate in his grief. But instead of pine trees in his view, it’s the growing sight of moorlands. He needs to do this first: it’s the least he can do now, after all that’s happened.

The procession slows at the border, and Greeneyes glances back at those behind him. It would be a warning to behave — to be polite — brought forth in chirping tones, had this been any other circumstance. It would be a learning opportunity, had they not had a mission to carry out.

Instead, all they can do is wait for the next WindClan patrol to make their trek along the border. And when one finally arrives, Greeneyes waves them over with a flick of his tail and a polite bow of his head; one prolonged — as if to prepare himself, to steady his voice, to blink back the sting of threatened tears.

“ Greetings, ” the tom meows to those that approach, “ We are… We’re looking for Mallowlark’s kin. ” Greeneyes isn’t too sure if they’ll find any here. For all he knows, the once-grinning tom might’ve shared the news with them already, somewhere among the stars. A breath is taken, and the warrior proceeds.

“ We’re here to pass on a message. ”

// PATROL TAGS: @LUPINESONG, @Cherryblossom (plus their apprentices, should their mentor think they're able to handle it!) — no need to wait!

NOTE: this takes place shortly after this thread and before october's gathering, as well as scorchstar's nine lives ceremony!

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[PINKSHINE]

The scent startles her: tree sap and pine needles... Or something like that, things she's only ever smelled at the gathering, or maybe caught a whiff or two of by ThunderClan's border... It's not like it's new, no... but why was it here? Pinkshine's tail sticks straight in the air as she sees them, a merry band of SkyClan cats. She'd thought that's what they were supposed to be anyways, kittypets that apparently did nothing but goof off all day... but the expressions they wear are somber... Concern creases a calico face. It's hard to see them as just silly kittypets when they were like this. There's a tremble in her whiskers as she approaches. If any of her patrolmates are wary, she'd make up for them with a hasty approach. She expects for Sunstar to be summoned, and Pinkshine would've been happy to get him, but...

She blinks. Isn't that a weird thing to look for? Pinkshine's eyes widen at the mention of her half-brother, a cat she's met only once, but family. And when so sweetly spoken of by her mother, even she couldn't forget that name. Remembering completely takes her a few fluttering moments... but she remembers. Remembers the gathering; being a paw. Off to SkyClan, right... That's where he had gone. Pinkshine looks around the rest of the patrol, as if the SkyClan cats weren't speaking right to her... Her eyes land again on the green-eyed tabby, eventually. " Um... That's my brother, " she mews. Mismatched paws shuffle against the ground.

At first, she worries that SkyClan's kicked him out, or something like that... But they're passing on a message, apparently. From him? Could it not wait till the gathering...? She supposes he couldn't reliably know if he would be chosen. It's a little lucky, that he's allowed to go at all... Pinkshine pricks her ears to the news. She repeats after him, " A message? ...What'd he say? "​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonsprig follows the patrol with herbs tucked neatly between white canines, her gaze peppering the borderline between themselves and ThunderClan. It's a short distance, the border itself, but she almost hopes that their lands will somehow overgrow and leak into the moors for a brief moment. That their flush undergrowth will swell with herbs known to her, with uses that will flesh out her and her apprentice's repertoire. Unfortunately, nature does not move so quickly, and blue eyes are instead brought up with surprise -

SkyClan. Here?

Pinkshine is quicker than the rest of them, kinder too no doubt. The mottled she-cat moves to greet the small but unnatural patrol and Cottonsprig joins her. Her claws are not dulled by the medicine she deigns over, though she has doubts that a patrol so far from home would have any ill intent. (A false memory flashes in her mind's eye; her Clan, seasons ago, ravaging SkyClan's medicinal stores for herbs, to cure a sickness in the Clan. Stories once told to her, tales that how only live on in a pawful of souls.)

The one at the forefront is one she recognizes slowly. He had been at the Moonstone nights ago, tagged with Fireflyglow. It was the same night of the new code, the same night... Dawnglare left them. Is this a searching patrol, maybe? A request to pass through and tread through the lonerlands beyond them? Cottonsprig is almost quick to deny the unspoken request, if only because she cannot fathom sending such a small, tactless patrol into DuskClan's claws.

Greeneyes speaks as Cottonsprig looks over the rest of his patrol. Her tail waves a casual greeting to Lupinesong just as he utters Mallowlark's kin. Her gaze flits past Cherryblossom as Pinkshine responds, "That's my brother." It's a short wave of unease, though one that is quelled too quickly. The Clans are new and kin is still spread far beyond them - sharply she is reminded of Granitepelt, how he somehow forged a bond with Sootstar, how thus he is distant to her, and she is distant to whatever family he had in ShadowClan. She seats herself, a soft pelted sentry to Pinkshine's lingering left, and watches on as the SkyClan cats speak.

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• ooc //

• ❥ MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
  ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
  ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
  ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
  ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
  ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
  ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
  ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
  ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
  ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?

• 

  ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.

​

 

[Cherryblossom]

There's a plush tail sticking up over the waves of moorland; Cherryblossom tamps down her chest fur with a few swift licks in preparation. Grief hangs as a heavy pendulumn in her chest, pulling at her to be still when she moves and swinging her off-kilter when she stills. She doesn't quite lean against Lupinesong, but in presence she does, soothing herself with the familiar exchange of floral-scented heat at their flanks. The small, smoky molly who waves at her friend earns an odd stare, a flash of irritation dissolved in scornful pity cooled by simple sorrow.

She's almost a head taller than both of the patrol's firstcomers. It makes her feel like some sort of foreign monster, some immense harbinger of their fate. Scorchstorm hadn't been this short. They'd been about the same height last she saw her, or would she have grown further into her broad shoulders? In the land of her scent, she can almost feel the sturdy weight of them if she closes her eyes, as though she'd just slumped against her in the darkness of the caves. Again, her eyes dart between the herb-carrying cat and Lupinesong.

How much would the great tortoiseshell have cared about Mallowlark? His time in WindClan must have been before either of them were born. She hopes there was no love between them, or perhaps that there would be no love left for Mallowlark in WindClan at all. Dawnglare himself couldn't have been all there was to run for.

Then again... "Um... That's my brother," the little calico WindClanner pipes up. Cherryblossom can't hide the grimace that springs up on her face. Her mouth opens before she's aware of it, the cruel bluntness dropping from her lips like a stone: "He's dead." She knows it really didn't have to be her saying it, especially not like that, but it'd be disingenuous of her to hem and haw over it. The SkyClanner thinks about averting her gaze but decides not to, and meets the impending shock head-on. "That's what we came to pass on," she says. For a moment she's overcome with the urge to apologize. She thinks Edenberry would, but she holds her tongue.​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

LIKE A PICTURE IN A FRAME
WISH WE COULD'VE STAYED THE SAME ​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 27 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan lead warrior ​

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" G-greeneyes! wh-wha- " theres warmth in his tone when the lead warrior spots the patrol, eyes widened - but it leaves quickly upon the sight of the solemnness with which they've arrived. Teeth dig into his cheek as they speak - ears twitching at Mallowlarks name. They are not kin, but he'd been fond of the tom with his morbid humor - stars, he'd probably been on of the few to question and fret over his sudden dissapearance. It'd been a relief to learn later that he'd simply gne to skyclan, and not something worse.

There is no relief to be had today, and the tired-looking tom winces at Cherryblossoms words - frowning in disapproval at her bluntness. " G-great starclan - what h-happened? " there is none of his usual gentleness left in his tone, tail lashing as he all but snaps. There are so many things it could've been - he finds himself hoping he went peacefully at least.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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I ' V E - A L W A Y S - B E E N - R E A L - B A D - W I T H - C H A N G E

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[FLUFFYPAW]

Fluffypaw sticks close to Greeneyes. Her paws ache from the trek — it is no small feat to cross two forests and a stretch of moorland, after all, and she's never been this far. Normally, she'd have been at least a little excited to see new sights, but there's a pit in her stomach that had developed long before her patrol had left camp. It is never fun to be the bearers of bad news, and she knows that even though Mallowlark had left his kin behind to stay with Dawnglare, he had to have cats here who loved him.

Greeneyes addresses the approaching WindClanners formally. "We're here to pass on a message," he tells them. Readily, they come, their eyes glinting with curiosity at travelers who'd come so far. Fluffypaw recognizes one of the warriors — Pinkshine, from all those Gatherings ago — and the pale tortoiseshell's face falls with grief. "That's my brother," she tells them.

And Cherryblossom just... just says it. "He's dead." The words are cold and clipped and battered by the wind. A warrior with a scarred eye asks, "What happened?" Fluffypaw kneads her forepaws, but she owes it to Dawnglare and his devoted mate to speak up — doesn't she? "He died trying to save his mate," she murmurs. "At least, we... we think that's what happened. It smelled like... like dog, where they found them."

As a kit, she'd adored stories of devotion, of true romance, but there's nothing like giving your life for a cat you care more than anything about, is there? That's what real heroes do. She thinks of Candorpaw in the forest, his tawny fur spiked in the face of the snarling fox, and she feels queasy, faintly.

Fluffypaw touches her nose to her mentor's shoulder. "Can we go soon?"

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Fluffykit . Fluffypaw, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 11 moons old, ages realistically on the 8th.
  — mentored by Greeneyes ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — skyclan apprentice. butterflytuft x dandelionwish, gen 3.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  lh chocolate tortie/cream chimera with jade eyes. frightened, clingy, anxious, gentle.
  
  

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