- Jun 20, 2023
- 145
- 109
- 43
[ cw for potential disillusion & panic, death & canon-based gore. tldr, skyclaw took @Moonwhisper out for a walk and they were ambushed by rogues :( he's brought her body back to camp. goodnight my sweet princess... ]
"... She's impossible," Skyclaw laments to his sister, sidestepping a tree branch as they casually trot through the woodlands. Moonwhisper's grown sick of the nursery - the day-in and day-out of monotonous queen duties have long since both bored and frustrated her. Like most of their ThunderClan family, she was made to move, not sit and wait and watch. Their walks through the forest are far and few between, admittedly, but Skyclaw appreciates the time he has with her nonetheless.
"She always has been," Moonwhisper says, coolly. Her tone is light, but not taken lightly. Skyclaw looks over his shoulder at her as her paws suddenly stop, her keen nose lifted to the air. The tom lifts his muzzle, too, scenting what litters the breeze. He notices something off, but his sister is quicker to acknowledge it. "Skyclaw, run!" Protective is she, the elder sister to her little brother. Cats with no discernable Clan-scent break through the undergrowth and surprise them both, one tackling the queen and sending her sprawling and the other nipping at Skyclaw's scarred nose.
"Moon -" Skyclaw barks, the remainder of her name lost to the air. His claws shred through wiry fur, through taut skin and flesh. The blood that mucks his claws is too sticky and warm but still doesn't yield him to the possibility of fleeing. Amber eyes are lit ablaze as he looks for the pale blues of his sister's, watching as she struggles against a particularly burly rogue. Her claws, too, swipe and score, each finding their mark and doing their worst - but moons of forced complacency in the rank she silently detests has dulled her skills.
Skyclaw gawks, stunned, as the rogue effortlessly latches their unruly fangs into Moonwhisper's throat and rips. There's no scream to be had from either of the siblings - not one that the tom remembers, anyways. The second her blood sprays the forest floor is the second he is no longer cognizant. The world blackens as if he's fainted, yet when he blinks away the darkness, he finds himself standing alone. Pitifully so, even as blood spills from his own mouth and coats his forelegs.
Had they run? He doesn't know. A trail of rich copper ichor splashes the scenery, finding a heavily trodden path away from them. He's standing, hunched over his sister's body (her corpse) and all Skyclaw can make of it is that he's protected her too late. He can't even speak to her now, her eyes dulled and her soul lost to the stars. Skyclaw grits his teeth as he comes to terms with the situation, the bile he would normally vomit settling instead in his gut.
He thinks of how he sat by his mentor's dead body for hours before he was found. How he waited for Blazestar's eyes to reignite with fear and shock. How in both situations, he was only a machination of a larger circumstance - a bystander to the adder, a child to star-crossed lovers. And today, the brother who could not save his sister. An uncle who sentenced his niblings to a life without a mother. That makes him sick. The mere idea of remaining here, waiting until her body grows cold, makes him sick.
Skyclaw solemnly swipes the tears that've crested along his eyes, his jaw fixed as he burrows his nose into Moonwhisper's fur for a moment. An apology said to her, not the stars that likely hold her, and he pushes her weight onto his shoulders. The trek home is not long nor arduous but he dreads every moment. He knows he is noticed long before he breaches the camp's entrance, and to the first cat who sees him, he utters a, "Keep the kittens in the nursery." A demand, but surely one they will understand.
Her body rests close to the center of camp shortly afterwards, and Skyclaw lets his gaze linger on where her children may stand. Will they disobey the queens that hold to them and look anyways? He fears the outcome but says nothing - it is not his job to. "Rogues," he says, finally. "Rogues attacked us. Stole her without giving her the proper chance to fight back," Skyclaw says, and his tone is too dejected, too monotonous. He is far gone, his mind whirling but never settling.
"... She's impossible," Skyclaw laments to his sister, sidestepping a tree branch as they casually trot through the woodlands. Moonwhisper's grown sick of the nursery - the day-in and day-out of monotonous queen duties have long since both bored and frustrated her. Like most of their ThunderClan family, she was made to move, not sit and wait and watch. Their walks through the forest are far and few between, admittedly, but Skyclaw appreciates the time he has with her nonetheless.
"She always has been," Moonwhisper says, coolly. Her tone is light, but not taken lightly. Skyclaw looks over his shoulder at her as her paws suddenly stop, her keen nose lifted to the air. The tom lifts his muzzle, too, scenting what litters the breeze. He notices something off, but his sister is quicker to acknowledge it. "Skyclaw, run!" Protective is she, the elder sister to her little brother. Cats with no discernable Clan-scent break through the undergrowth and surprise them both, one tackling the queen and sending her sprawling and the other nipping at Skyclaw's scarred nose.
"Moon -" Skyclaw barks, the remainder of her name lost to the air. His claws shred through wiry fur, through taut skin and flesh. The blood that mucks his claws is too sticky and warm but still doesn't yield him to the possibility of fleeing. Amber eyes are lit ablaze as he looks for the pale blues of his sister's, watching as she struggles against a particularly burly rogue. Her claws, too, swipe and score, each finding their mark and doing their worst - but moons of forced complacency in the rank she silently detests has dulled her skills.
Skyclaw gawks, stunned, as the rogue effortlessly latches their unruly fangs into Moonwhisper's throat and rips. There's no scream to be had from either of the siblings - not one that the tom remembers, anyways. The second her blood sprays the forest floor is the second he is no longer cognizant. The world blackens as if he's fainted, yet when he blinks away the darkness, he finds himself standing alone. Pitifully so, even as blood spills from his own mouth and coats his forelegs.
Had they run? He doesn't know. A trail of rich copper ichor splashes the scenery, finding a heavily trodden path away from them. He's standing, hunched over his sister's body (her corpse) and all Skyclaw can make of it is that he's protected her too late. He can't even speak to her now, her eyes dulled and her soul lost to the stars. Skyclaw grits his teeth as he comes to terms with the situation, the bile he would normally vomit settling instead in his gut.
He thinks of how he sat by his mentor's dead body for hours before he was found. How he waited for Blazestar's eyes to reignite with fear and shock. How in both situations, he was only a machination of a larger circumstance - a bystander to the adder, a child to star-crossed lovers. And today, the brother who could not save his sister. An uncle who sentenced his niblings to a life without a mother. That makes him sick. The mere idea of remaining here, waiting until her body grows cold, makes him sick.
Skyclaw solemnly swipes the tears that've crested along his eyes, his jaw fixed as he burrows his nose into Moonwhisper's fur for a moment. An apology said to her, not the stars that likely hold her, and he pushes her weight onto his shoulders. The trek home is not long nor arduous but he dreads every moment. He knows he is noticed long before he breaches the camp's entrance, and to the first cat who sees him, he utters a, "Keep the kittens in the nursery." A demand, but surely one they will understand.
Her body rests close to the center of camp shortly afterwards, and Skyclaw lets his gaze linger on where her children may stand. Will they disobey the queens that hold to them and look anyways? He fears the outcome but says nothing - it is not his job to. "Rogues," he says, finally. "Rogues attacked us. Stole her without giving her the proper chance to fight back," Skyclaw says, and his tone is too dejected, too monotonous. He is far gone, his mind whirling but never settling.
