camp whose brow is laid in thorn // guarding camp

[FORESTSHADE]

// this takes place after Smogmaw left for the Moonstone
Open to all but she is guarding with @SHARPSHADOW and @HEMLOCKNOSE

As the moon hangs high in the night sky, casting silver beams across the marshland camp, Forestshade paces the perimeter, her foggy green eyes narrowed. Her ears twitch this way and that, attuned to every ribbit and chirp. The tension in the air feels thick, a mix of unease and discontent swirling within her. When she arrives back at the camp entrance, she sits next to Sharpshadow, while Hemlocknose perches nearby.

"I wonder if Smogmaw will see Chilledstar,” The torbie grumbles, her voice low and gravel-rough. "After that cocky fox-dung he said about them, maybe he won’t even get lives.” Her ears angle back slightly, that familiar bit of irritation bubbling in her chest. "I mean, how could he even say that? About the cat that made him deputy? Chilledstar gave every last life to protect ShadowClan.”

A distant owl hoots, the only thing that causes Forestshade’s ears to shift from their flattened state. She isn’t usually an anxious cat, but her insides churn with apprehension. She has no idea what this new future will look like under the arrogant tom. And maybe she’s saying too much, but she doesn’t care. Her clanmates can’t be blinder than her; surely they see how off this is?​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

She gazes absently at the moon, nearly full – a telltale sign of the gathering drawing near. For the first time in... forever, Chilledstar wouldn't be leading them across ThunderClan territory — for any reason that wasn't permanent, anyways. The entire forest would miss cutting blues, seemingly staring straight at you despite their apathetic wane... He dreads it; a second gathering in a row where all eyes would be on ShadowClan. Sharpshadow wonders if Chilledstar had known what was coming when they raked a paw across Sunstar's ear. Had they curled their tail over their paws and thought: It's now or never? ...What a legacy to leave behind.

A dark ear flickers when Forestshade speaks. A dull gaze, half screwed - up turns toward her. He doesn't see why Smogmaw wouldn't see them, but then — oh. Sharpshadow sniffs. She kind of agrees... Sort of. On principal, he thinks he does. " I would've waited for them to get cold first... " he says, shifting uncomfortably. What kind of life was that to lead, where your clanmates disapproved of you, and loudly said so the moment that you were gone? How much of that did Chilledstar deserve? He honestly couldn't decide... " Yeah, " he says. " They did... "

The group of them really should be guarding Smogmaw himself, rather than camp. She can still remember Chilledstar's lives picked clean, gnawed on by hulking swamp beasts and cats alike... Sharpshadow's sigh is long and shaky. " After the gathering, Chilledstar... y'know... " His shoulders are stiff. " They seemed to think we wanted them dead. " There were hardly any things Chilledstar has ever done that she'd agreed with, really... Hardly a thing that made her feel like she should caterwaul beneath Clanrock, or charge into battle with for ShadowClan on her tongue, but... Sharpshadow shakes her head. " I've never... " he trails off, but it's obvious what he's saying, right?. " I hope Chilledstar doesn't think that still, up– up there. "​

 

[NIGHTKIT.]

(⚈_⚈)   This is not a conversation for kittens to hear. Frankly, Nightkit should not even be awake, but their sleep schedule was strange. Awkward. They did not understand life outside of the box, just as he had not understood life within it. Moon-round eyes glint in the low light there is to reflect, and like a shuffling shadow they creep closer to the trio that were left to guard camp. The spot in their nest by Moltface is cooling; surely their littermates would keep it warm. (Though hopefully not too warm. Now that they were older, it is easier to overheat. Maybe that is part of why the kitten slipped silently from the edge of the nest, spilling like soup over its edges and into the dark.)

They creep closer to the two. It edges past the safe distance of observation and into awkwardness (not that Nightkit knows such social norms) but hopefully he is quiet enough not to betray his presence too soon. For from a distance, Sharpshadow had done something interesting. The crooked tail that seemed so still most of the time– flicked. Enthralled, he comes closer. Was it like his own? It was not as fluffy as Moltface's. He reaches out, slowly, tenderly, one soft tiny paw held in the air for a looooong moment, and then: Bap! Bapbapbap! In rapid succession, the silent kitten wails upon the lead warrior's tail tip.

ooc. —

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[Briarthorn]

.·:*¨༺🕷༻¨*:·. Hazel optics glide with her mothers pacing, to and fro. Briarthorn hasn’t announced her recent presence yet, but she has already given a tip of her ears to Sharpshadow. She is far more interested in hearing what seems to be troubling her mothers mind, even if it was rather obvious.
Truthfully, Smogmaws- or was it star yet?- display above their leaders corpse hadn’t been all that surprising. The ashen tabby’s reaction to Chilledstars slaying had been brief before the authoritative gears had begun to churn. If it hadn’t been Chilledstar at their paws, the young warrior might have even admired the flipped switch.
"Maybe it’s his own way of coping." Briarthorn nearly wishes she could be of better comfort for her mother, but her tone falls flat, like she would not push the perspective any further. The ebony warrior had her own bitter thoughts on it all, but what if venom-laced words were to fall onto the wrong ears? A particular pair make the feathery molly squint. "I don’t think they do. They didn’t die angry." To Sharpshadow, golden-rung hues are half-lidded under the moons silver light. Selfishly, she wishes her clan could just move on- as impossible and unfair as it was to pray on- the crimson-stained memory has begun to stain the warriors dreams. The sting of her leaders demise hadn’t begun to wane, and it was becoming uncomfortable.
Dual-toned hues make out the small form of a scrap of fur lurking in the shadows. Briarthorn opts to say nothing, for now.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ALL YOU HAVE IS YOUR FIRE ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ AND THE PLACE YOU NEED TO REACH ──┐‎

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  BRIARTHORN ꔫ she/her, warrior of shadowclan, 12 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.
  

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[FORESTSHADE]

I would've waited for them to get cold first, Sharpshadow says, and the she-cat snorts. “Ya think?” Smogmaw's words cut deeper than claws on bark. To speak ill of Chilledstar, especially now, when their spirit is only freshly departed from this earth…it gets her fur bristling. A flicker of frustration passes over her face. "I can’t fathom why Smogmaw would think those things," She hisses lowly, her expression hardening. “Whatever disagreements they might’ve had, they were our leader, and their memory deserves respect!" The torbie’s feathery tail lashes hard against the ground. If Smogmaw thinks otherwise, then perhaps he has forgotten the sacrifices made by Chilledstar for ShadowClan’s sake.

She is distracted momentarily by the sound of tiny paws battering, and she parts her jaws to taste the air and identify the culprit. “Hey, Nightkit; out for some late night exploring, are we?” She mews smoothly. Normally, she isn’t one for kits’ antics, but in the wake of everything she allows her mouth to twitch into a small, amused smirk. But she doesn’t want to be on the wrong end of Moltface’s discovery that the kit she’d taken in is no longer in his nest. She gestures with her head back towards the nursery. “Why don’t you head back to your nest? There will be plenty of time for tail-chasing in the morning.”

Her ears angle towards Briarthorn as her daughter speaks - stars, how hasn’t she noticed her approach? Is she so bothered? Her teeth grit as the she-cat suggests it’s Smogmaw’s way of coping but she says nothing. I don’t buy it. “You’re right. They…they have to know how much we miss them.” Her lashing tail softens into a gentle flick as she begins to calm down. Still, she’s not satisfied. ​

 

[ONYXPAW]

"Smogmaw didn't... he never..." Onyxpaw's voice was hushed as she approached the warriors pacing around the perimeter of camp, so skittish and light that it could hardly be heard over the sound of her own pawsteps. Her opinion felt like brambles scraping along her throat, leaving deep gouges in their wake that made her hesitant to even continue. The apprentice was in the minority here, wasn't she? To see Smogmaw's words not as meant to spit on Chilledstar's memory, but to usher Shadowclan into a new, and different future. One that their fallen leader possibly wouldn't approve of, but would at least be able to watch over from their new place in Starclan.

It's a momentarily stumble though, as a sudden surge of assuredness seemed to rush into her chest - offering her view of things was important, wasn't it? They were all together as one clan, sure, but they were all different cats. Scorchfrost wouldn't want her to seal her own muzzle shut, azure gaze flicking around for any sign of her mentor before settling back on Forestshade and the rest. "Smogmaw didn't mean what he said as a way to disrespect their memory. He wouldn't." The same cat that had advised her on her worries over her apprenticeship wouldn't spit on Chilledstar's grave like that. The same tom that seemed so confident in the face of what could have been a true disaster for Shadowclan - he had to just have their best interests at heart.

Her claws sunk down into the dirt, steadying Onyxpaw as she continued on. The only betrayal of how troubled she was was the way her eyes flicked rapidly between each warrior that was present before eventually settling on Briarthorn. At least she wasn't a lead. "All he meant was that... was that he wanted to make himself clear. So that we would all know that things were going to be different, and that he thinks that maybe he can do things different. Maybe even better... that doesn't make how Chilledstar led us any less important." Dizzy. She felt dizzy. Why had she opened her muzzle again?

Well, it wasn't as if she could take it back now.

𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 ✹ . + 　 ˚ 　　　 · 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎

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  an apprentice of shadowclan, onyxpaw is inching towards warriorhood at ten moons. she is being mentored by scorchfrost, and is on track to graduate fairly soon. shy towards most other cats, she is nonetheless loyal to her home and a skilled combatant, although she struggles in the hunting department.　✦

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[HEMLOCKNOSE]

you can count on me​

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Hemlocknose had been enjoying the cool night breeze when Ferndance spoke. While he didn't feel quite so passionately about the sentiment, he couldn't say he entirely disagreed. Chilledstar had been an admirable cat. Mere hours were not enough to begin a rant against them. The senior warrior huffed a breath in response. As more and more cats gathered around, he figured he should properly join in. Nightkit's intrusion made him smile fondly. If he didn't listen to Ferndance's gentle coaxing, he would give him a lick to the top of the head.

Onyxpaw's words were surprising to him. Wise, for the subject. "That's a great way of looking at it, Onyxpaw, though personally I believe leaders should have a bit more... tact," he meowed.

//god this is late omg

 

[ASHENFALL]

˚₊‧ ⛧ Ashenfall stays up, because of course he does. He haunts the camp like any other dappled shadow beneath the light of the moon and the sway of trees, and he prays for a safe return. Regardless of Starclan’s clear moonlit path laid before their paws, the horrors lurking to catch any stray marsh-dwellers were innumerable, and it wasn’t exactly like he trusted their medicine cat to be of any use fending off any clawed or toothed creature. He agreed with Sharpshadow on one thing, they should have sent a patrol alongside them. It was too late for that now though, so Ashenfall had to be content with waiting around and twitching his tail in tandem with the persistent beat of blood in his ears. That, and listening.

Forestshade runs her mouth, grief spilling out in a frustrating series of gripes, and Sharpshadow joins the choir, his own sorrowful insecurity seeping into the image he paints of Chilledstar. Briarthorn offers stilted comfort to her mother—is that how they always spoke to each other?—but the lead warrior seems mostly placated, if reluctantly. This is not a conversation for kits to be hearing, indeed, but Nightkit seemed more concerned with amusing himself than entering any political discourse, so he only watches the kitten with vague amusement.

It’s a shame that the most clear-headed one among them has to be an apprentice, and Ashenfall will not allow her to take the heat for daring to voice a fair-pawed opinion about their new leader. ”Let’s not conflate respect with immunity from analysis…” Smogmaw’s son emerges to join the circle of commentators, pale eyes sweeping across those gathered, ”Smogmaw doesn’t dice his words. As tactless as you might find his delivery, he was being nothing but candid about what they left behind, and of what lay ahead of us. He only has Shadowclan’s best interest in mind, and if what we need to achieve that is a little realism… Then it’s more respect on Chilledstar’s name to have some honesty than to chase our tails around spouting feel-good platitudes.`” His blood buzzed, sparking irritably at the pool of doubt they laid themselves into.

”We didn’t hate Chilledstar,” He glanced at Sharpshadow. ’I didn’t hate them…’ he thought, shifting uncomfortably beneath the sparkling eyes of Silverpelt, ”But it’s not my place”—’Nor yours…’—”to speak for the dead.”

YOULL ASK WHAT CAN I DO? ⭒☽⛧☾⭒ AND THERE WILL BE NO ANSWER

• OOC:
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• 
  — ashenkit . ashenpaw . ashenfall
  — he/him. 16mo warrior of shadowclan. formerly mentored by smogmaw
  — smogmaw x halfshade. littermate to applejaw, swansong & garlicheart. older brother of thornpaw, halfpaw, and laurelpaw
  — a stout, longhaired blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
  — sarcastic, sharp-eyed, sulky, nostalgic, faithful, impulsive, candid, provocative, remorseful
  — "speech", thoughts
  — penned by eezy
  

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[SHARPSHADOW]

" Oh. " There's a kit at his tail. Dark and wide - eyed and brought from the dredges of Carrionplace — the memory of Magpiepaw hits him at full force, uncomfortably so, bringing any conversation he had to make to a silent standstill. A black lip curls over teeth as if it was a struggle for them to do so; a strange and tense face. What made her... interesting like this? Still interesting moons – seasons later, it seems. A star spot, that's what Magpiepaw had said before he'd randomly grown a brain some day. A white almost tail - tip... and she guesses its moving was a... challenge. Or something.

Nightkit's strikes are precise and deadly. She should probably shoo him away, but for some reason she doesn't. Her tail gives a rare flick again. Um... testing his reflexes... or something stupid like that, maybe. Forestshade does the shooing for him. He decides Nightkit can do whatever his heart desires... Probably... milk, or whatever it is kittens partake in. His face twitches, kind of wanting to smile, but not really willing to be bothered to do so... Nightkit would never know Chilledstar, huh?

The thought is weird. It stays weird as she lifts her head, gaze drifting to those who would keep knowing them. Remembering them. Maybe it’s his own way of coping Hearing the sound of his own voice? Maybe. Briarthorn seems... mostly right. A nod comes to Sharpshadow slowly. He doesn't dare feel relieved, but maybe there is an answer. " Yeah, " quietly, he mews.

Onyxpaw treads lightly, using ShadowClan's trademark skill for eavesdropping, rather than anything useful. The warrior's nose wrinkles. Vaguely, she agrees with Hemlocknose. " Coulda done that with way less words, " she mumbles. He went on and on — talked as if everyone else there was stupid... And it worked too often. Had her blinking after him, dazed; swept up in what he meant and what he didn't... Of course things are going to be different. He's Leader now, and he isn't Chilledstar. It's... easy.

An uncomfortable glance is shared with Ashenfall, pinpricks bordering grey pools. More like a twitch than anything fluid, her eyes narrow. " You sound just like him. " It isn't a compliment.​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

Agitation scrapes at her ears as an apprentice of all cats dares to approach and defend Smogmaw to the older cats. Her snout wrinkles in distaste and she swings her broad head around so that her muzzle faces Onyxpaw. “And I don’t think it’s your place to decide what Smogmaw meant, pipsqueak. We all heard him. I’m not deaf too, are you?” Any cat would have to be to not take the new leader’s words as blatant disrespect, spittle dangling over Chilledstar’s grave. Dismissively, she turns her back on the apprentice, a silent order to go back to her nest. She’s not having this talk with apprentices. She huffs in agreement with Hemlocknose. Some way to show your clan you now lead you care, huh? Smogmaw’s just about as good at gaining favor as Forestshade is at star-gazing.

And then Ashenfall opens his big mouth, big words following, and the lead warrior has to laugh. Smogmaw needs his son to come defend him, does he? “‘Don’t conflate respect with immunity from analysis’, aye?” She snorts, shoving herself closer to the younger warrior as she stands. “Right back atcha. Or is your daddy the only one who’s immune? I’m only saying what everyone’s thinking. You think he was being honest? Well, I’m analyzing that I think our new leader has let the power go to his head already. How quick he was to turn us against Chilledstar before they were even cold in the ground! That big speech sounded like he’d had it rehearsed for moons. He was too ready and too eager to take on that mantle and you know it.” There is a growl in her voice now as she whirls around, stomps closer to Sharpshadow and Hemlocknose before she sits down next to them with a huff. At least some of her companions have some sense, some respect.

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