sensitive topics WITNESSLESS ME \ the body


\ followup to this thread.

The body is smiling.

Nettlepaw is not here anymore. He went when Ghostpaw ripped his soul out of his throat, sent him spinning to the stars. There's no one behind that grin, no glimmer in kitten-blues. His sister snagged his life on her fangs and ran for the hills, and he already walks to the stars. The solace he feels, as he leaves, is that she will not walk the same stars as him. It is knowledge that is only granted in death.

The body lies on the border, a body stinking of blood.

Nettlepaw had gone hunting- alone, slipped away, confident he could bring back a prize. A chance meeting has lead to this grisly display. A dead apprentice is not a new sight for ShadowClan, but it will never be a welcome one, Nettlepaw imagines. He walks to the stars with regret in his wake. He is, at least, glad he will not be yelled at for his stupidity. Can't yell at a corpse.

The heart on the body's throat is split in two. The heart in the body's ribs has stopped forever.
penned by pin ♡
 
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BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.
Briarpaw has seen death before. Briarpaw has seen death, and didn’t fear it.
Her and Skunktails hunt had stretched from the withered roots of Burnt Sycamore to the border, hot on the trail of a wayward rat bound to meet its demise anyhow, out all alone in the marshlands like that.
The only thing the raven-furred apprentice hears in this moment is her own breath, the only thing within her sights is the invisible scent trail.
That is, until a bright ember of orange sends her to a bone-chilling halt.
Orange and rusting crimson.
Claws sink into mud as Briarpaw tries to register what she had almost stumbled over.
Briarpaw has seen death before, and she hadn’t feared it.
Yet, the all too still fangs bared into a twisted smile, the empty sky-blue optics, the vacant look that does not belong on someone as alight as Nettlepaw.
"Skunk…Skunktail!" The apprentice finally cries out for her mentor, staggering away from her denmates corpse with a twisted stomach.
"Help! Nettlepaw needs help!" Once again she calls into the space between her and her mentor, pine-laden eyes narrowing at the grizzly scene before her, the thing that threatens to make her breakfast spill from her lips.
"Oh Nettlepaw… no…"

"speech"

 
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He's meant to be hunting, meant to be near Chilledstar and Applepaw. But again, again — he's wandered off. Again, the dark tom walks in isolation, void of the burden of responsibility and successful catches. Screechpaw is content in this moment, in this freedom.

But perhaps, perhaps he should've stayed. Perhaps he shouldn't have gone up ahead. Just this once.

The scent of blood is stronger than he thinks he's ever smelled it. Its stench stills his paws and causes his heart to sink. Danger, he knows. Danger, he ignores, paws moving just as quick as his heart. He'll fight it — he'll fight whatever lies at the border, whatever spilled the blood he smells now. He can do it. He can —

A familiar form. A former playmate.

He lies crumpled, torn and stained crimson.

Screechpaw's shadow gets to him first. Perhaps this is for the best, that she's nearby for once.

" No — " he squeaks out, paws racing forward, all threats thrown to the back of his mind. " Nettlepaw! " Screechpaw stops before his unmoving form, sides heaving at the sight before him. He knows — knows despite the grin on the cinnamon-flecked apprentice's face. His peer, his assumed rival. Gone.

His head lifts, looking to Briarpaw with fear-struck eyes before shouting too, willing his name to prove its purpose. " Help — Chilledstar! " His mentor mustn't be too far behind. ​
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  • 74597074_cdZpRJwV0JQAuyC.png
    SCREECHKITSCREECHPAW
    ── Apprentice of ShadowClan

    ── Forestshade x Vulturemask
    ── AMAB; He/Him
    ── A black/red tabby chimera with mismatched green eyes.
    ── Mentored by Chilledstar
    ── "Speech"; Attack
 
DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP

not far behind is right. they're not far behind. they hardly were when it came to their apprentices and if they weren't with them, another warrior or apprentice was. applepaw and screechpaw were their responsibility, as was the entire clan. they wanted everyone safe. they said things, did things for their safety. and still, bad things happen. things out of their control. the stars have called yet another cat home, in the most brutal of ways, and they never once can get used to the sight of a young one, dead before warriorhood. it's not fair. he fought, but it wasn't enough. it never would be enough. why? why did this happened to him?

their face twists in anger. fury. rage. a growl patiently waits on their tongue but it never surges forward. quickly, they pick up their pace, scent of blood nauseating as they move to try and block both briarpaw, screechpaw, and applepaw from the view. they didn't need to see this.

"look away, kiddos. don't look."

they're horrified, it's stuck to their scents. they're sorry that they have to witness it at all. and more so, they're fucking pissed that yet another cat was taken from them. this shouldn't have happened.
 
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IF ONLY I FELL FOR YOUR FICTION
TELL ME THINGS THAT CAN'T BE TRUE

maggotfur 15 moons female she/her shadowclan warrior

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" A pity, " the monotone response from Maggotfur is only to be expected really - in fact, its surprisingly emotional. Unlike chilledstar, she makes no move to sheild @Ptarmiganpaw from the sight - lets it serve as a lesson, a warning. But neither does her usual scathing tongue rear it's head. She does not stare, does not mock - only moves in silence to grip pale fur in her teeth until she has the body comfortably settled in her grasp. " I'll carry him - someone will need to tell starlingheart, " it will not be her. She knows Magpipaw values the black-and white molly, and knows that her caustic personality is not suited towards empathy and kindness.

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

F O O L M E O N C E T H A T S O N E T O O M A N Y

 
He follows Maggotfur closely, not expecting to hear the cries of Screechpaw calling for Chilledstar. It makes his fur stand on end, and he follows Maggotfur as she goes to investigate as well. All he can think about is who's injured or dead now. It seems to be a frequent occurrence in Shadowclan. So much so that he wonders if he should form any attachments at all. If any of his siblings died or his parents, he's not sure he'd recover. Yet the thought of having nobody...Sounds incredibly lonely.

When he arrives at the scene, his heart sinks as he sees Nettlepaw's body. He stand frozen, eyes locked on the body of his former denmate. Tears nearly grace his eyes, but he keeps them in for now.

"Oh, Nettlepaw...." His voice is barely audible.

Ptarmiganpaw had been struggling with fighting, but now, he feels a renewed vigor to succeed. He needs to learn to fight. If he can fight, then he can protect his friends and family. Stars know they seem to really need it. The whole clan needs it.​
 
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Once again Poppypaw arrives to bear witness.

Death has arrived to take yet another young one, and Poppypaw idly connects the scene with the grip upon her small lungs she felt upon rising that morning. He rode upon the bristle of her shoulders as they entered the vicinity and squeezed air from their body once they made eye contact with the grinning corpse. Breaths are shallow, and a few weak coughs spring from their maw but they do not dare cover their eyes.

There is something to be grateful for in the jovial expression painted across the face of the vacated body of their friend, she is glad Death had not spooked Nettlepaw so harshly as he had Comfreypaw.

"It will be warmer there..." They assure Nettlepaw, glancing upward for the first time toward wherever his spirit may be lingering as he began his departure. To Chilledstar, Maggotfur, and Frostbite, they declare with a quiet determination, "I shall help bring him home."

There is a hum in their unhearing ear and she twitches it, lowering their wraithlike gaze to rest upon the black cat-fluff set between the body's claws. The hum intensifies and they are harkened back to the omen Swanpaw stumbled upon. Black feathers and three dots of blood.

One.

'Would you rather to pour blood from your mouth or your throat when you die?'

I think I would like to go in my sleep, like Stumpyspots.

'THAT'S SO BORINGGG! I hope you get crunched like I did.'

Hm. Is this genuine or are you being unkind to me?

There was no answer.

  • OOC: @Frostbite
  • poppykit - poppypaw
    — agender they/she. 8mo apprentice of shadowclan
    — aro-ace. friend to all.
    — a tiny, fluffy white and dark red tabby cat with pale, wraithlike blue eyes
    — smells like mushrooms, dust, and foggy night air
    — deaf in left ear
    — sounds like lain iwakura, with a flat yet gentle high-pitched tone
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack, 'poppypaw'
    — icon by mercurial, fullbody and pixel headshot by dejavu
    — penned by eezy
  • disclaimer: poppypaw is not always operating completely within reality! they are affected by some delusions and may see, hear, react to, and interact with things that are not actually there. most notably, she will believe herself to have interactions with starclan as a whole and specifically, the deceased shadowclan apprentice Poppypaw. these are not reflective of ic reality and are not real interactions with starclan or deceased characters! this is not an attempt at powerplaying, godmodding, or metagaming.
 
Flintpaw often feels as though his life is just one long, long string of misfortune, and today would prove to be no exception.

He's out — out with Scalejaw, still reeling from the shock of their last patrol, still shivering in the cold, still unhappy. He can't tell how Ashenpaw feels about him; can't tell if Smogmaw would rather see him dead or alive; can't gauge his progress in his training. It's difficult to be so full of uncertainty. Is he hitting the right benchmarks? Scalejaw has faith in him — had told him as much before the badger had whirled in with the snow, one great black-and-white eddy. But he still struggles to catch prey (and so do they all in the midst of leafbare). He still can't fight worth a damn. He still can't scrounge up the right emotions at the right times.

First he smells the tang. Blood is not an unfamiliar scent anymore, but it still manages to put a chill in his spine; his immediate thought is that the badger has returned, hungry for new meat, but then the suspicion creeps. Ashenpaw, Starlingheart, both attacked by his own kin... could Granitepelt have made a reappearance? Siltcloud? He still can't imagine either of them attacking his clanmates, and yet Granitepelt had nearly killed his mother. Flintpaw's throat constricts. He follows the copper tang until he happens upon the body.

It's not Nettlepaw anymore. It looks like Nettlepaw, but its throat is slashed in half. Its eyes don't see, its grin is waxy. Blood dribbles into the mire below, and Flintpaw just stands there, eyes wide but mouth a thin, cool line.

He refuses to retch. This corpse is not his brother, and he and Nettlepaw had never been particularly close, anyway, so... it shouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter that more of his family have left him alone here in this miserable black hole; it shouldn't matter that Flintpaw can't remember a time that he'd looked at Nettlepaw with the respect his littermate deserved. It turns his stomach to think that way, realizing that they'd hardly shared so much as friendly banter between them, but it doesn't matter because Nettlepaw isn't Nettlepaw anymore, and it's not like his corpse could espouse any desire for brotherly connection at this point.

So Flintpaw regards it, odd eyes frigid, stomach turned, lip quirked. Granitepelt, Siltcloud, Ghostpaw — all traitors, and now Nettlepaw gone in a different way.

What's he supposed to do?

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    flintkit . flintpaw
    — he / they / she ; apprentice of shadowclan
    — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
    — "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by sixbane, signature by dreamydoggo
    — penned by meghan
 

It isn't fair, the way this forest had a knack for taking on the weak and throwing them into the stars for it. Lilacfur is much like Flintpaw in the way she had become neutral in the face of blood at first scent. It didn't ignite the thrill of a possible successful hunt (though she would always express pride when it did), or spark urgency in a pit of fear but rather a gut-wrenching sensation of- who is it this time?

Chittertongue had made a safe return home after moons of being assumed dead. Surprise kin had appeared at their border to be welcomed as Clanmates. Starlingheart had miraculously survived a brutal attack from her former mate. It should have meant they were all safe. That there family was coming back from this curse that triaged their lives over and over again.

But she is staring at the undeniable truth that the mire will only take payment in their blood. Never satisfied with what had already been spilled. So hungry, and it's taken poor Nettlepaw for it.

His smile is as empty as his gaze- not a sliver of life behind it. Lilacfur swallowed thickly and in her mind she refused to believe this was truly her nephew. This had to be an imposter of some kind, he was in camp keeping Magpiepaw on the edge of snapping while he told Starlingheart grand stories and jokes to keep her entertained.

Like a snapping thread her refusal turned to anger. Nettlepaw. Nettlepaw. He was no warrior, he couldn't fight by himself-

"Who... left him ALONE?" The molly's question was aimed at no one in particular, it could have been for the clouds. "WHY WAS HE ALONE??" Lilacfur's head swung around to look across the marshes with fire alight, her gaze akin to molten gold. She knew the answer, it was the same as every other apprentice they found this way. Doused in their own blood with claws or teeth marks telling them how they met the stars. But how could her own brother have neglected their kin? Knowing the dangers? Knowing their history?

The lead looked to Chilledstar with rage pulsing down her spine, blinking away what tears threatened to spill. She would not cry here. "This changes. This- This has to change."
[ i need the clouds to cover me ]
 
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Applepaw thinks she's getting used to it. But then, it is that very thought that scares her then.

Nettlepaw is rotten at the border, discarded as if he were carrion in the pile. Not long ago, had she seen him walking. Not long ago, had he heard him talking. Not long ago, had he thought of how he annoyed her. Of how he lacked ethic. Of how he lacked the direness the clan ought to have in the midst of Leaf - Bare. It seems he had cared more than she had ever known; cared enough to head into mud and slush alone. cared enough to come home a corpse, and smile while he was doing it.

Applepaw does not regret her thoughts. It's everything else she regrets. One, two. Another childhood peer gone. Friend? No. But it had been him, and now she would miss him in a way she never had before. When Screechpaw sees him, he rushes forward. Applepaw does not.

Chilledstar surges forward. There body blocks his; darker, still breathing. look away, kiddos. don't look. Applepaw breathes in. " We will be warriors, soon, " she says. She is concerned with the wrong things, she knows. In one more lousy moon or so, could Applepaw go outside, and not ask to be killed?

She thinks Maggotfur's voice comes annoyingly dull. A monotone that even Chilledstar themselves was struggling to maintain now. She would scold her. She would, but Applepaw is no warrior, and she wasn't positive her own voice had not come out the same. " You cannot alone, " she tells her. A glance is spared to Poppypaw, who insists they will help, but...

Her help seemed of a different nature.

" I hope you did not intend to drag him through the mud, " she murmurs to Maggotfur, a sheet of ice settled atop her voice. " ...He's been through enough, " she adds quietly. " I'll help. " She spares a glance to Chilledstar, and then she would shuffle toward Nettlepaw's body, bile thick in her throat. Not long ago, she had helped drag his mother, bloody and bruised, back to camp... She had thought it would be the same... but gazing upon him, torn and unmoving, has her realizing she'd thought wrong. Her ears flatten against Lilacfur's enraged yowls. It would only be down to two now. Starlingheart and her sole kit. Applepaw spares him no glance.
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  •  
  • SHE / HER
    APPLEPAW.
    APPRENTICED TO GRANITEPELT CHILLEDSTAR OF SHADOWCLAN.
    ELDEST SISTER TO SWANPAW, ASHENPAW, AND GARLICPAW ( halfpaw, thornpaw, laurelpaw )
    currently 10 moons old as of 2.12.24. ages every 17th.
    ic opinions! she's mean <3
 
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DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP

they realize they need to move his body. take him home. give him a proper rest. this was a brutal way to die. they remember dying this way, too. only difference was, they had to come back. nettlepaw didn't get those choice. nettlepaw was taken home to starclan before he even really had a choice. he smiled in death, but something tells them he wasn't happy. he simply was frozen. the smile plastered on his face like some sort of sick joke. except nothing was funny. none of this was funny. lilacfur is screaming, so angry and they can understand the rage. they're fuming. and applepaw. she's trying to be mature but somehow, that pisses them off further. almost warriors she says.

"keyword, applepaw, is soon. you're not a fucking warrior yet. none of you are! you don't need to see him like this! I'm trying to protect you because this isn't how your supposed to remember your clanmate. your denmate."

they're not upset with her. they're just upset in general.

"I'm sorry for snapping. this just... im trying to spare you from more pain than you've already gone through. I'll help carry his body... he shouldn't have been alone. he shouldn't have been by himself... where is nightswarm? someone go find his mentor, and for fucks sake, take a buddy."
 
Death and ShadowClan were old friends that were well too acquainted, seeing it trespass onto their swamp did not bring the grief it may have done moons ago. New thoughts twist in her gut at the sight of Nettlepaw's torn neck. The idea that this could be one of her own, taken by the mire's curse, was enough to make the she-cat nauseous. Vacancy shifted across her emerald eyes, for the imaginative soul was a blessing and a curse, and it did not take long to turn Nettlepaw's body into one adorned with black and cinnamon, to turn the white upon his face into snowflakes on her precious daughter's cheeks. Her only solace was that Nettlepaw's death had been quick enough for him to remain smiling, or that he had met it with some comfort - a small comfort in the grand scheme of things. It didn't take long to picture Sprucepaw, whose death had been met with the same shouting (her ears flattened to protect them from it) about how a ShadowClanner shouldn't have been alone. As Chilledstar admonishes Applepaw, Ferndance slipped away from the group, passing Nettlepaw's body and placing the tips of her claws against ShadowClan's scentline.

"I'm going to scout the borders and see if we can pick anything up," Ferndance decided, carrying the strength of a rank no longer her own. She knew she was running away from the grief and the anger, hoping that if she did not surround herself with reminders, StarClan's blessings would make it all magically go away. But, it was an escape with purpose. There could be a scent, a witness, anything that could be discovered to make ShadowClan safer for her babies, both born and unborn. Her tail lashed behind her and the molly rested her neck upon her shoulder blade as she twisted it around to look at her bereaved clanmates. They were frozen... defeated... and the ticked tabby felt her throat grow barren - she knew she would be the same should the worst come to pass. "If you don't want me to be alone, then I suggest one of you comes with me." None of them looked well enough to follow her on her quest, leafbare had gnawed at their bones while grief took a chunk of their hearts... that was ok, she thought, she would not hesitate to murder the first rogue she saw with blood on their paws.
 

TW: emetophobia

Halfpaw had always thought her first experience with death would be in the heat of battle. The kind where it didn't matter because it was just some nameless faceless enemy who wanted to do harm unto her clan. She would kill them and no one would care or even remember them because they would be nothing, no one. She had never imagined it could be someone she loves, someone she cares for. "Nettlepaw?" she stumbles forward on unsteady feet, towards the thing that looked like her friend but no... Nettlepaw couldn't be dead he just couldn't. Chilledstar's voice is just a distant drone in her ears, as small and insignificant as a gnat buzzing. Look away he says but her eyes are transfixed, taking in every detail of the gruesome scene before her.

When finally she does obey her leader and look away it is to loose her breakfast in the nearby overgrowth.

Why? Why him? He was the best of all of them, a shining light in the darkness that was this absolutely filthy swamp. He had been the reason she had stayed and now? "I can't I..." What? What can't you do Halfpaw? Go ahead, finish that thought. A little voice in the back of her head urges her. She can't be here anymore is what she wants to say but... ShadowClan is her home. Where else could she possibly go? Her eyes flash in the direction of the moors for all of a second before she steels herself. "I want- I want to go to look for whatever did this" she says, her eyes flashing to Sharpshadow and then Ferndance in turn as she reaches up and wipes tears from her eyes, snot from her nose.

Other cats are speaking, offering to move the body, bring it back to camp. The body. Because it's not Nettlepaw. Not anymore. Her friend's soul did not remain in that vessel, smiling up at them. He was somewhere else now, somewhere far above them where there was no hunger, no pain or suffering. Halfshade, if you're up there, please take care of him she prays silently. Applepaw, Briarpaw, Screechpaw, Lilacfur and Flintpaw, she tunes all of them out in favor of imagining her own claws slicing through flesh, giving whoever had done this a wound to match the one carved into her closest friends neck.
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  • 74005637_Mkbfa9PMK58YlSi.png
    HALFPAW SHADOWCLAN APPRENTICE ; SHE / HER ; SISTER TO APPLEPAW, ASHENPAW, SWANPAW, GARLICPAW, THORNPAW AND LAURELPAW
    A fluffy she cat who's fur is half cream tabby, half blue tabby split by white. Her eyes are two mismatched shades of blue, with one being a light icy blue and the other being darker in color.
    Easy in battle + still learning how to fight
 
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BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.
She is not left alone in her discovery for long, the first unfortunate soul to join her being Screechpaw.
Rounded optics are swollen with fear when they turn to her, and Briarpaw’s ears flattened.
"It’s…it’s okay, it’ll be okay Screechpaw, just breathe." As soon as trembled comforts leave her maw, Chilledstar arrives, calling half of the apprentices den with them.
As the charcoal leader shoved themselves between the littermates and the body, Briarpaw would aim to drape a feathered tail around her brothers trembling shoulders and pull him close to her own flank. If he would let her, the elder sister would guide him in the other direction, eyes finding Flintpaw nearby amongst the madness. Chilledstar snaps, warriors and apprentices alike clamor over who will take his body home.
She feels as though she is going to be sick, but only holds her brother tighter to keep both of them on steady paws.
Ferndance announces she is going to scout the border, Chilledstar demands someone to go fetch Nightswarm, Starlinghearts needed presence is chimed from Lilacfur.
inhale, exhale.
What would Forestshade do? Skunktail?
Without drifting from Screechpaw’s flank, Briarpaw would aim to tap an outstretched forepaw against Flintpaw’s. A vague attempt to draw the ashen apprentice away from whatever caused the detached vacancy in their eye.
The grown ups yell more, Lilacfur demands change while Halfpaw insists on joining Ferndance.
The chaos was sickening.

"speech"

 
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