sensitive topics we're gonna rule the world .. found


The marshes sought blood.

It is a demand that had been made since before she was born, she thinks. When her mother ruled with a paw steel and tongue of silver. When she kept her claws sharpened and teeth snapping. Blood has soaked this soil more than it has given mercy.

It should embolden them to remain united, she thinks. When StarClan may turn their starlight shine away from the spindly pines of ShadowClan, they must trust and rely on one another like they did in the days of old, she's told. In the face of hardship, grief, hate, they should be able to look to their Clanmates to hold each other up through it all. Lilacfur remembered being told- this was the purpose of the Clans.

But this body felt too heavy to hold up by herself. Cold inky fur sent a chill down the scarred molly's spine as she lifted the boy onto her back. Blood, mud, and debris caked her paws from the miserable pool they had found him in and her heart is sent into an aching fit. It was supposed to be a simple patrol. It was supposed to be a quick trip to carrionplace and back. How could it go so wrong, so quickly?

She and her patrol return to camp and a cold grasp is wringing her heart. It made her tongue feel like a rock stuck behind her teeth while Forestshade gently pulled her son off the leads back, and to where a nest would be made for his final rest. Her eyes search for her sister, the sickening clutch in her chest dragging her underwater.

"Where is...?" Her voice rasped around the lump in her throat. Where was Starlingheart? She should have been back with Magpiepaw by now.

"Where is anybody?" She then asked, instead.

// rai has given me the honor in writing sweetpaw's departure. poor boy was overtaken by a cluster of rats. this would be very shortly after magpiepaw's kidnapping, explaining lilacfur's confusion why both of them aren't there ^^;
// small edit per request! forestshade is with lilacfur instead
[ i need the clouds to cover me ]
 
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.·:*¨༺🕷༻¨*:·. Her return to the apprentices den had been anticlimactic, spare for a few welcoming murmurs, Briarpaw hadn’t let herself get too wrapped up in socializing, making quick work of shaping a nest of fresh moss near the center of the den, where her old nest had been.
Screechpaw floated around somewhere, and Sweetpaws missing presence was merely a small note in her mind, it was normal for them to be out at this time of day, the apprentices den was just about empty- there was no indication of any abnormality about today.
A knot has tied itself within the pit of Briarpaw’s stomach, and she casts her current task aside and lets her paws guide her towards the mouth of the apprentices den, craving a breath of fresh air.
The reek of the carrionplace is what bathes the she-cats tongue first before the metal, just as Lilacfur and Forestshade slip through the entrance.
There’s an uneasy twitch in Briarpaw’s tail, slivered pupils flicking to and fro for a moment before they click on the bundle of ebony that is draped over Lilacfur’s back.
Where is anybody? The lead warrior rasped, and horror has begun to snake its way through Briarpaw’s spine, running her own blood cold as ice.
It’s Sweetpaw. The corpse that her mother now takes from Lilacfur is her brother. A low, keening noise begins to swell in the air, but it sounds too distant for Briarpaw to hardly register.
The wail grows, louder and louder until the forsaken noise feels as though it’s going to split at her eardrums. The scratch in the back of her throat is the only thing that makes the apprentice realize it is her lamentation that is suffocating her.
The tears have yet to break through to her waterline, but finally Briarpaw can will her limbs to move forward after her mother would lay her brother down, rigid and staggering, to the crumpled form of her littermate, ribboned with rat bites and streaked with rusting crimson.
She cannot muster the strength to lift her gaze to anyone else, to ask what had happened. All Briarpaw can feel is the shock and grief that has sunken its talons into her shoulders. Her weeps are no longer piercing, but spill from her slightly parted jaw steadily, a low unending thrum. A trembling forepaw reaches to press into his shoulder, and finally the tears trickle. How could the world go on without Sweetpaw? How could her world go on- why couldn’t she have been there to protect him?
In a blink, something has been ripped away from her, and all Briarpaw can understand is that it hurts. More than being ripped apart by an owl, more than any argument with her mother- no… no, she is in agony. This is agony.



  • BRIARPAW she/her, apprentice of shadowclan, 9 moons.
    slender, lean-muscled black she-cat with sharp hazel eyes & large ears.
    daughter of Forestshade && Vulturemask ࿏ sister to Screechpaw && Sweetpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Noor@toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
  • Sad
Reactions: lilacfur
*+:。.。 Shock is all that consumes the loud-mouth as he stares on. Sweetpaw, one of Shadowclan's rarer friendlier faces, lying limp and beaten, eaten alive by rats. How...? Although Sin had never had the chance to get to know the other tom, he'd admittedly admired him from a distance - always cheerful, always as bright of a beam of sunshine as his golden eyes.
He looks sideways at Briarpaw, a splash of freezing sympathy leaving his ear tips and paws cold to the touch. After risking her life for one brother, just to lose another...? Singepaw swallows a hard lump, looking back at Sweetpaw and imagining Sneezepaw or Swallowpaw in his place. Nothing would be more unfair. Hesitant, feeling like a stranger, Singepaw would sit down a polite distance from Briarpaw. After another uncomfortable moment debating his actions, he'd eventually lay his tail over Briarpaw's. Loosely, in case she didn't want to be bothered, but feeling he...he needed to do something.
He opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it, turning his focus on Sweetpaw.

Eyes misting, the fiery tom mumbles, "I'm sorry". To Briarpaw, to Sweetpaw, to the universe for taking away a great kid, to no one in particular. Because, truly, what could a 'sorry' do on such an awful day?




  • GENERAL:
    Singepaw
    Cismale — He/him — Questioning sexuality
    6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month on the 2nd
    NPC x Duckshimmer (brother to Swallowpaw, Sneezepaw)
    Shadowclan — Kit
    Apprenticed to Pipitclaw


    COMBAT:
    Physically easy | mentally easy
    Attack in bold #b8312f
    Can be power played just ask
    injuries: Throat bite, flank scratches, various cutes [pained until 04/03/24]


 
She hadn't been out on patrol, staying in camp, sleeping her long night of hunting off. It's what Shadowclan does best, after all- hunting in the dark was where she thrived; her coat didn't stick out too much, casted in shadows. She hadn't been on patrol...

But when she yawns, emerges from the warriors den, about to greet the returning patrol... She wishes she had been. "S-SWEETPAW!" her voice rises in a screech, heart beating way too fast, emotion hitting her like the owl had. Everything sounds like its so far away, like everyone else was underwater, because they hear a scream and it bubbles and its so muffled and its... The night-pelted body that lays there, limply, with Forestshade, should be standing upright, yellow eyes wide as they normally were.

They don't realize how heavy they're breathing before they get light-headed from the too quick inhales.

She tears her eyes away from it. The corpse. The corpse that was once Sweetpaw, the corpse that housed the apprentice they had trained alongside for most of their apprenticeship. It's not them. It's not them, they refuse to believe it, they refuse to, they can't believe it, their head is swarming. They can't breathe. They try to will their body towards Briarpaw but their legs aren't cooperating, they can't move, the weight of the world seems so heavy on their shoulders right now.

I don't, they sharply inhale again, legs wobbling, deserve to be here, not grieving alongside the family. But do they, when they watched these kids grow up? Made a silent vow to protect them, always? They failed them, Orchidbloom failed them- They need to get out of here. They can't breathe. Sweetpaw, please, they beg. They half expect Sweetpaw to pop up, giggling in their childish voice, saying that they were just pretending. But they don't. They don't get up, and they're dead, they're dead, covered in their own blood, they're dead. Forever. And their training would never be completed because they're dead.

They stumble backwards, dry-heaving, and disappear back in to the warriors den.

  • // quick in and out </3 sweetpawwwwww </333
  • 80192257_BM5b2gMLix2zWQF.png
    orchidkit, orchidpaw, orchidbloom
    demi-girl ,, she/they ,, 13 months
    warrior of shadowclan ,, formerly mentored by forestshade
    lanky yet fluffy cinnamon smoke she-cat with wide blue eyes
    "speech, d1afed" ,, thoughts
    bisexual ,, mates with raggedbite
    smells like lilies and iris'
    chibi by I-IALCY0N ,, penned by chuff
 
  • Sad
Reactions: Antiigone

✧ . His time in the medicine has come and gone with little celebration. He’s not too surprised by such, by the little regard he gets from his clanmates — though he’d thought for sure Briarpaw would have a bigger welcome party to greet her. A few murmurs here and there before they’re meant to go on with their lives, to pretend as though this never happened. Well, at least Sweetpaw will have a bigger greeting for them, for Briarpaw, at least.

He is silent, for once doing his duties right away and remaking his nest at the back of the apprentice den. His sister is not too far off, somewhere crafting her own nest. As he runs out of moss — he’s never been good at judging how much he needs — he lifts his head to seek her out, to ask if she had extra. Only… to find her gone.

Bri…? “ he starts, only for his voice to be cut off by gut-wrenching wails outside. His heart sinks too fast, faster than it had that night, faster than talons had made their way into his skin and —

He drops his nest. Sun-splotched limbs move, a twist fast enough to remind him of the scars at his side, and before he knows it, he’s outside. And before he knows it, he wishes to be back inside, hidden away from what he faces, from what makes his sister cry, from a bright greeting he’ll never hear.

It’s an image that never should’ve been crafted. Dark fur rusted, a form harboring more wounds than both his siblings combined, golden eyes clouded. Unmoving, in ways Nettlepaw had been upon his discovery. Dead.

Sweetpaw is dead.

Sweetpaw is dead.

His ears start to ring — as if to protect him from the sounds around him, from hearing his sister’s cries any further, from hearing Orchidbloom’s shouts or his own namesake coming to fruition in the chorus they create. This can’t be happening. This can’t. His beloved brother, warm and bright and sweet, lies limp across Lilacfur’s shoulders, his own mother in tow, to pull him off the other’s shoulders to lay him on the ground.

He doesn’t realize he’s moving until he’s beside Briarpaw, until tear-blurred eyes are looking down at Sweetpaw’s unmoving form. “ S-Sweetpaw — ? “ he chokes out somewhere between sobs, wills for him to get up, to live.Sweetpaw… please.

Out of the three of them, it should’ve never been him. It’s hardly a secret, that. The sight before him feels wrong, because it is. Because solid dark fur should still be standing, because orange-splotched fur should be in its place instead. Because they weren’t there to save him, because Briarpaw wasn’t there to save him — Briarpaw couldn’t be there to save him.

This is his fault, he knows — a realization that doesn’t quell his tears, but strikes him hard enough for his paws to waver beneath him, for him to need to lean against his sister. This is his fault.

It should’ve been him.
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  • 74597074_cdZpRJwV0JQAuyC.png
    SCREECHPAW AMAB. He / Him. Apprentice of ShadowClan.
    ✧ . A black/red tabby chimera tom with mismatched green eyes.
    ✧ . Forestshade x Vulturemask
    ✧ . Mentored by Chilledstar
    ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
    ✧ . Penned by Abri@_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
    ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
 
CAN'T YOU TELL I'M CRASS?
CAN'T YOU TELL I'M WIRED?

swallowpaw 07 moons polygender any pronouns shadowclan apprentice

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Swallowpaw is supposed to feel sad - or maybe upset, or sick, or something. Anything. He can tell by the way Singepaw is uncharacteristically silent, the way lilacfur's voice breachs and screechpaw.. well, screeches. It's a bad thing, dying - seeing someone die. It is his first time seeing a dead body - at least one that isn't prey - and yet.... Swallowpw feels nothing. Perhaps there is a tiny part of him that winces, that wants to frown and shake his head at the fact they've lost a clanmate, that wonders what it must feel like to die, but not much else. It feels impersonal, though the boy admits in the confine of his mind that it probably isn't just because they'd not been friends with sweetpaw. No, they'd felt similarly numb when it'd been singepaw bleeding out - first from the talons of an owl and then by granitepelt. There is no real sadness no real grief - but they will act like they feel it, because it's what they do. Frown tugs at the corner of their lips as they watch from the sidelines, carefully keeping their jaws shut tight to avoid saying anything awkward. " I'm sorry, " he says at last - echoing his brothers sentiments but with far duller tone. Sweetpaw is dead.

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

T E L L - M E - N O T H I N G - L A S T S ( - L I K E - I - D O N ' T - K N O W ?- )

 

First Magpiepaw and now Sweetpaw. In such short notice they had lost two of their comrates, one which he had shared a den with. Lividpaw was more interested to observe the apprentice injures from the distance as he stopt beside Swallowpaw while his clanmates mourned their fallen clanmate around him. It looked like bites, tons of them like it had been more then one that had attacked them. The scent too was...rats. It most have been rats. That was troublesome. It would have been alot easier if it had been a fox or badger so they could avenge Sweetpaw but rats it would be like them going into war against another clan for killing one of their own. What a nuisance. What on earth had happend to begin with for Sweetpaw to meet such a brutal fate?. Another reckless impulsive action?.

Lividpaw wished to ask to understand this situation better but all of them seemed so emotional at the moment something he could not relate too. He was quite aware that he was different from the majority of his clanmates who seemed to be a victim to their own emotions. Some of them even had little control over them. At times like this he felt disconnected from his own clanmates for not being able to share the same emotions they felt.

His eyes shifted over between Briarpaw and Screechpaw who both seemed to take this very emotional. Lividpaw's eyes returned back to Sweetpaw's body as he reflected deeply as he tried to picture the situation to be different right now. If Basilpaw, his own brother had lay dead in front of him right now, how would he have felt?. Would it have changed anything at all...he wonderd. Hmh, if he thought about it like that he believed that losing Basilpaw would have been -

less of a loss then losing Sweetpaw. His brother had made very little improvements as an apprentice, and he barely put down any efforts at all to make himself worthy of becoming a warrior one day. So losing them would have been like losing a hopeless kit who could do absolutely nothing on their own. So yes, he believed if the tables had been turned it would have been better if shadowclan had lost Basilpaw today and not Sweetpaw who had proven more worth then their own kin had. That was just facts. When he thought about it that way it actually would have been better if it had been Basilpaw they had lost today instead of Sweetpaw who still could have had the potential to serve the clan well.

What a shame.

 
  • Angry
Reactions: Snowlark.
She's grateful she is blind. As she trudges into camp, cheeks damp from the tears she has since run out of and shoulder pressed against Lilacfur's as they carry her dead son into camp, she is grateful she could not see the tragedy unfold before her. Her claws are sticky with drying blood and she squeezes unseeing eyes shut as she remembers how it felt to swat away rat after rat, only for it to never be enough. Sweetpaw's screeches filled her ears as the mother and mentor tried with all her might to get them off of them to no avail. Her muscles still twitch with adrenaline as she pulls his body off of her counterpart and lays him gently on the ground, and it's when her daughter's wail fills the air does she finally flatten her ears and duck her head in grief. Orchidbloom, Screechpaw - she can hear all of them crying. Cats gather to mourn and express their shock and she must take a step back as the smells grow too overhwelming, the cries and shouts confusing her senses.

She thinks about the day her kits were born, how she'd promised to make sure they grew up to become whatever they wanted to be. She promised them lives of independence and freedom. In the end, it didn't even matter. Sweetpaw, the child named for honey's saccharine taste and who always embodied that same delight, lies dead at her paws. She wants to say something to Briarpaw and Screechpaw, to embrace her children so they may cry and grieve together. But their friends are with them, and ignorantly she feels her presence may not be wanted. Her head dips low as she mourns in silence, eyes falling shut and her shoulders sagging. With no energy left to cry anymore, there is nothing left for her to do but allow the grief to weigh her down until she is crushed into the mud.