camp VISIONS 𓆩♡𓆪 STARCLAN CLASS

This one is settled beneath the stars, the smile on his face soft and pliant for once – not misshapen; something that cuts near - uncomfortably across his jaw and skull. His face manages to mimic something that should be. A kind let has cast upon him, gentle mood brought upon by StarClan's sweetness and Mother's influence thusly bound to him. Large paws are tucked beneath his willowy form snuggly and a velvet tail sways idly behind. There is potential yet, in these few. Not quite yet have they proven their worth or lack thereof, and perhaps uncharacteristically, he is willing to smile upon them by defult.

They'd been asked earlier if they could spare a few moments away from their homes this evening. A few of them could not make such an exception. A few of them could. It is not that StarClan disappears when the dawn comes, but he'd think it something easier to feel, when you can almost touch the stars yourself.

He shifts again, wordlessly encouraging others within the group to find comfort themselves. Pristine paws knead the ground ahead of him, and that fragile image of serenity is broken by the narrowing of his eyes and sharpness of his smile. " Today we learn of the stars, " he says, and a paw makes half an effort to the sky as he says this. " All you have to give, and all you have to offer... " He pauses to sweep the crowd for reaction, before continuing. " There will come a day when your physical self is flesh and bone, and the rest of you will be torn from it, whether you're ready or not. StarClan will welcome you with open arms then, and only then, " its spoken in dreamy speech; words that must be heard for the sake of a crowd, but its hardly more than a sigh, regardless... " Take in what may be yours someday... "

May be, maybe, because he would not doubt an exception... a clause. Surely not everyone was sky - bound. Certainly not everyone deserved to be. " Someone is always watching. " Even if it is not always them. The knowledge of thousands beats between Her roots. You'd never know. She'd never tell. That is unless you're him, in which certainly you are not. His crescent gaze becomes a full - moon, as if to be a sentinel alongside them both. " Don't think you're alone, because you never are, " he says with sweetness, eyes daring to trail to nothing at all.

The lives. The lives. He supposes its something he should mention, but the thought makes his blood run thin and has his claws itching toward his own skin. It's too much trouble– too much turmoil. Suddenly he grits his teeth. A grimace portrays the discomfort he feels. A click of his teeth, and he's moved on from the topic he never even started. " They speak to me, and me only, " he remarks with glee. ( Though they could speak to Blaze if they pleased, a nagging tells him, and he silences it with metaphorical claws in its chest. ) Nevermind, nevermind. He scratches at the ground, instead. A strange gaze makes it's way to Fireflypaw them. Him too? No, not yet, he's a fool. But is he? He doesn't know what he thinks.

( And the stars have talked to him already, the voice reminds, and he silences it with metaphorical teeth in his throat. ) His throat feels dry. And then its fair and wet again with the eyes that come into view. Eyes on him. All fine– all well. He is the picture if immovability, ( Never mind the warring faces he's made. No, he hasn't minded at all. )

( ooc: dont mind him tehe. obligatory @Fireflypaw tag )
 
Image — The young flame point would shift uncomfortably from where he sat. He supposed it was good the learning stuff, apprentices were meant to be sponges when it came to all this but.. He couldn't bring himself to look at the stars as Dawnglare spoke. As he carried on it made him feel even worse. Like there were fire ants crawling up and down his fur. Was she up there? Was she saddened that he couldn't even look up in her direction? A grimace would plaster itself on Scorchedpaw's face.

"Dawnglare.." The apprentice would drawl out the tom's name, uncertainty laced heavily in his voice. "Y-You say after here we pass onto.. there." He found it difficult to mention the fabled heaven. "Why would they care what happens to us? Like enough to speak to you?" — tags
 
Yay...more...lessons... He could feel his energy fading even further, but no matter, he's here to learn! This is important stuff! Though, he has to wonder if he's the only one who's actually been to all four so far...oh well. This one has been the most interesting one so far. StarClan? Another clan in the sky? That you go to when you die? He's not sure what to make of that.

The afterlife wasn't something he really considered. As far as he's known, you just deteriorate then go back to the earth. But to find yourself among the stars? That sounds...quite nice, honestly. As much as Dawnglare's talk of always being watched spooked him a bit, it's also a nice gesture. He wants to think there's someone out there taking care of him, even if he cant see it.

He also wonders why they only talk to the medicine cat. Seems like a weird choice of position to commune with, wouldn't the leader be better? Ah well, he didn't create the system, assuming it actually exists. Scorchedpaw's question also makes him laugh internally. Did he think they wanted cats to die? Or that they were all at peace and shouldn't care since their time was up? Eh, maybe he's thinking too much into it.
 
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Fireflypaw listens as his mentor begins the lesson, his words of rhymes no longer as he speaks in tangible sentences. One could understand his words for once, though Fi had gotten used to the way his mentor spoke long ago. His head his held high as he seats himself beside Dawnglare, feeling his wide blue gaze on him for a moment. His tail flicks uncomfortably, though he doesn't let it show otherwise. A voice speaks up then, once Dawnglare is done preaching momentarily. Why would they care what happens to us? Like enough to speak to you? "Because they were once one of us. You see, StarClan exists to keep the peace between the Clans. And medicine cats are voices for the dead." He meows softly, blind blue eyes staring widely off into the distance. Hauntingly, chillingly did he gawk at the space of nothingness.

"They cannot visit just any living cat. Only those who have a close connection to StarClan. Such as a Leader, or the Medicine Cats themselves." Even though I've received my first prophecy, I'm still nowhere near trained. They won't recognize me as a medicine cat until I've done all that is necessary. He thinks to himself, though falls silent when he hears his mentor shuffle his paws beside him. Impatient, was he? "Sorry, Dawnglare." He apologizes for speaking even though permission was not given, though his own freedom to speak is clear. He does not wish to annoy his mentor any more than he already has as of late. ​
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 10 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS
 

Lessons, needless to him... he was a Clan cat since WindClan's accursed conception, of course! Even though he had joined SkyClan not long before the shelter cats had, he was more familiar with the customs as any of them could be. Though most of them he had no qualms in missing, for he was not inexperienced in border patrols or hunting, this one... this one he would not miss for the world. It would be obvious to even a half-dead mouse why- the cat who was giving the lesson was the reason, of course.

What had first drawn Mallowlark to Dawnglare was the latter's ceaseless knowledge of the world- of the bones in the earth and the dead knitted into the stars. He knew every fact about them, had an answer to every question Mallowlark could possibly think to ask. That holy curiosity had framed their first meeting, and had tied them together like an invisible string. Now that their meetings were not doomed to die with the descent of the moon, and he could look upon the sun-haloed form of his mate whenever he wished, perhaps some might think that the novelty of it would begin to rot... but no, no, never. Never would he tire of hearing of the wonders of nature, and the blessings of the sky... especially not what benefits lay within his new home.

Brimming with all the adoring light of the stars, wide and unblinking, Mallowlark's silver eyes fixed entirely upon Dawnglare's face. His grin, that ever-fixed mark upon his face, fangs framed with that too-wide curve, jittered a little with the sensation of giggles flooding from him. Quiet but uncontrollable, he could not hide his joy. Physically could not, even if he wished to hide his happiness! But- oh, it was this mystical-yet-wise whirlpool of words that he was so, so devoted to. Giggling, giggling- dissonant melody it was, chiming and high-pitched and barred behind his fangs.
☺PENNED BY PIN
 
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Another lesson. This one is about the stars, an afterlife that Snapple had hardly considered himself. His home-colony had its own beliefs - ones different from the stars above, but not all different, from what he remembers in the short-lived time in his birthplace.

What would become of him, moons and moons and moons from now, when he would be met with the afterlife. Would he live among the stars too, like SkyClan? Or would he walk among his own ancestors?

The medicine cat says the stars can talk, but only to him - and to Blazestar too, as the medicine apprentice says. Snapple doesn't really think he'd have a reason to talk to either, if he were dead. Don't the stars want to talk to their kin instead? Even then, maybe the stars and him have something in common - wanting to talk to their families, but being unable to.

"It must be lonely up there," he says quietly.
 
This would be the first of all the lessons that had occurred that Cheddar would attend. It sounded the most important overall of course, this StarClan they mentioned. It wasn't another Clan in the forest at all! Not like the ThunderClan cats that had caught him, or SkyClan that he was learning to call his second home. This one was where all Clan cats would end up in, it sounded.

Cheddar's gaze turned up to the sky as if expecting starry-pelted creatures to descend and join beside Dawnglare. "I'm not going there." The tabby would remark but not unkindly. More like a factual statement. "I doth not bethink I can changeth what happeneth at which hour I die. Mine own soul, mine own aether..." Cheddar's voice would begin to trail off in deep thought. ​
KITTYPET ✦ WHITE SPOTTED ORANGE TABBY ✦ 30 MOONS ✦ TAGS
 
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For once, the crowd's voice is one he is willing to hear. One he is built for in this moment, caught between the warm embrace of mother's will and his own ambivalence. Today, he smiles like the very sun. More than worth his joy is the grinning face that settles nearby, all silver slate eyes and pearls for teeth. The weight of an adoring gaze captures both his mind and soul. Any dissonant ringing lightens to a dull buzz. Stress is forgotten almost instantaneously in his wake. It is a barely - there chittering, but there enough for him to notice and be kind to. A silent thank you passes over his eyes. His limbs shuffle more comfortably now, weight tipping love - drunkenly to one side.

He is summoned by word of mouth and lazily turns to heed that very call. Question pinched carefully between sun - and - skin jaws. Why should they care. Perhaps Dawnglare would wonder the same if they weren't so intrinsically connected. A wonder almost, how mortal flesh shifted from fool to favoring between the short trip to the stars. His mind scrounges for the proper words, but oh, Fireflypaw–

They win his attention in the form of squinted stare, smile still plastered on his face. This was a rare question his apprentice knew the answer to, but still, was he Dawnglare? The real one would think not. He fixes him with a stare for a long while. He chews his lips while he thinks.

Dawnglare lets loose a breathy laugh. (Only because he knows not how to react, not because anything was funny, really). " Hah–! All– good and well. All fine. " Teeth mash against lip. Chuckles burst at the seems, as he assesses the ugly, half - faced thing. " W-would you stop caring, once you're blood and dust? " His tone sounds accusatory, but truly, he would do the very same thing. A stare fixes upon a non - speaking cream tom, before his attention shifts.

It must be lonely up there, one says, and Dawnglare feels the need to look upon the stars again to corroborate such an answer. Quite frankly, it is a stupid assessment. " There are hundreds, " of stars, he says, blinking blankly at them.

I'm not going there. His attention is caught by another, red and white. Blue eyes narrow at the assessment, but then–

His smile turns to horror, pinprick teeth bared in a grimace. A reddened muzzle wrinkles with what is pure and utter disdain. There is the crease of a brow; bunching of muscles. As if burned, he becomes something entirely new, nearly drawing away in lieu of what he can only describe as wretched and enchanted tongues. Words woven from something less than a siren; face he would never fall for. A trap was lain, and yet it is dreadfully easy not to fall for. Someone made a mistake with this one. Several someone's.

A distressed mind battles with what was once a favorable mood, and a look of disdain stretches back into a smile, though wretched and sharp - mouthed. What a dreadful creature, this one. Who was planning whose demise first? Dawnglare would like to rip out his tongue and watch it bleed. " Haha – ! I would hope not ! " His words pitch strangely, antsy along with a twitching tail and paws.
 



Fanta feels like she has a leg up on many of the others here. When she had met Figpaw, now Figfeather, the red tabby she cat had needed to explain many things to her in order for her to understand her life in the forest, the stories she told. Why things were the way they were. At first, the stories had scared her. How could they not? But over time, especially now, they had begun to intrigue her. The idea of StarClan pulled her in, the belief that passed away loved ones could watch over her, guide her. She hopes it is a peaceful place, free of struggle and hunger, bloodshed and violence.
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She listens carefully to this medicine cat, this Dawnglare but, as she quickly has learned, he is a strange tom and to be completely honest, not all his words made sense to her. Fireflypaw is more concise, he seems to speak more plainly than his counterpart and for that the kittypet is grateful. Still, she does not understand why they only chose to speak to specific cats. Why not everybody? Wouldn't that be much easier? She holds her tongue though, not wanting to ask a stupid question.
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The anger in the healers eyes at Cheddars proclamation slightly catches her off guard, though she quickly recovers. Wouldn't she be offended as well if she believed something so strongly and someone came along and said it was dumb - not that thats what Cheddar had said but she can imagine that to Dawnglare it had hurt all the same. "I think StarClan sounds lovely" she amends and it does. Was it real though? It would be nice if it was.