private WOLFSONG ╱ WHERE YOU GO ´ˎ˗

[SUNNVAR]

✦　　. 　 ˚　.   The moon is high above the moorland as Sunstride slinks out of his nest. With their litter returned to their lives beneath the stars it is strange to sleep so confined. He misses the restlessness of kicking paws and stretching limbs, of eyes blinked half-wide before closing again. They had always felt so small. They likely still would, even as they grow so quickly into their duties. At times the warrior worried that he would crush them. Some of them promised his greater size. Sunlitpaw, however, he worries for. No– no, that is a lie he cannot excuse when he is so separated from any who might judge him. He worries for all of them. Beneath Sootstar's gaze, which he had once found solid and worthy of trust, Sunstride worries. A bitter part of his mind knows that it is only because he is no longer within her innermost circle. He has lost the safety of being her chosen, and now suffers with the rest. But the rest had never meant WindClan.

Wolfsong had known, far ago. Now that his mind has cleared so slightly of her influence, he remembers that he had too. That night, beneath the stars, his oath had been carefully crafted. Promising himself to WindClan but not to her, to the stars, but not who they had blessed. Sunstride took his oaths all too seriously. The loophole had been for him. For Wolfsong. For this family he could never have expected. Casting a glance back at their sleeping healer, he chooses not to wake him. However much he may need his insight, WindClan needed him more. Rest would make tomorrow go much smoother.

He goes to sit beneath the stars just outside of the heather wall, where moor grass sways in the breeze and the stars light the path before him. A clear sky with a moon that threatens fullness. The Gathering would be soon, and with all that has happened....he cannot even begin to think of what he would say. The burnished tom sighs greatly, his chest deflating and his chin lowering some. The stars slip from his gaze. There is only the moor before him now, and it had never seemed so threatening.

𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕; 𝘚𝘜𝘕-𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌  ╱╱ 9.16.2023 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• ✦　　. 　 ˚　.   FORMERLY SUNNVAR. HE - HIM - HIS OR THEY - THEM. DEPUTY OF WINDCLAN. 4 YEARS OLD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  —————————
  
  
  ——  a tall auburn tabby with thick fur and bright glacial eyes. sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond it, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of them. he radiates confidence and self-assured authority.
  
  

  ✦ NPC x NPC. DECEASED MOTHER, ESTRANGED FATHER. NO LITTERMATES. MATE TO WOLFSONG. FATHER TO BEARKIT, SINGEDKIT, RIVEKIT, SUNLITKIT, AND FEATHERKIT ——

• "speech"

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[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── His sleep is restless, though he has never been the sort to dream deeply and twist fitfully— and fortunately so, as he would not wish to add to Sunstride's burdens by worrying him with twitchy legs and cries in the dark. He dreams of them all, of his mate and his children and the few WindClanners he cares for beyond responsibility. What waits for them is murky and shapeless but dangerous all the same. Wolfsong cannot say whether he sees RiverClan or Sootstar— but perhaps it is both of them. His waking and sleeping moments are dogged by such portents, and even if Wolfsong was well-rested, he would still feel strained and on edge as he does now.

He can only prepare herbs and hope they will be enough. If their warriors had any sense at all, Smokethroat will truly be dead, and they will go to the Gathering to find a RiverClan in mourning.

He comes awake abruptly, as he often does. The nest beside him is faintly warm; Sunstride must have left only a short while ago, and Wolfsong should be able to find him quite easily. He slips out of the medicine den, following his familiar scent, hunting him as he might a mouse. It is tempting to fall upon him like one, too, but the slope of his fire-brushed shoulders gives Wolfsong pause. With the camp at their backs, he goes to sit next to him, pressed up against his side.

"You do not wear defeat well, my love," he murmurs in a low rasp. "Let me take it from you. I will wash you in the Sun-Warmed Pool and weave the last of the moor's flowers in your fur, and while you hold me close I will ask you to disappear in the night like we did so many moons ago." His voice remains hushed, but rises in urgency. ​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

The steady beat of his breaths slows with the pressure of Wolfsong's pelt against his own. A singular hot ghost flees towards the moon and stars, a remnant of his own fiery heart. It is not the oncoming leafbare that has crushed his fire, but something else entirely. And familiarity alone is not enough to mend it. Still, it is a comfort. He leans into his shorter side, so close that their ears twitch against one another and his face instinctively wishes to flinch from what touches his whiskers. If he put only a little more of his weight onto the healer, they would both collapse to this ground and melt into it wholly. That does not seem so terrible a fate now. His shoulders are sagged with responsibility's — no, defeat's weight, as Wolfsong says, and he wishes he did not feel so compelled to carry it. Even with his mate there to bear its weight too.

"You have known that this land would be our destiny far before that night," he chuckles. Yet his paws still move mechanically, inching his weight from the warrior's shoulder and into a slow plodding towards the Sun-Warmed Pool. The image of relaxation is too pleasant a promise for him to deny. Even at night, when the water is cool, it serves only to remind him of their younger moons. His eye healed slowly, and his father had urged the two of them to keep it out of trouble. Sunnvar had splashed him from the shallows and come to shore with his fur plastered flat and each pawstep smacking wetly to the stone. They had wrestled regardless of his father's wishes, because with time and ample food, Ellisif grew from a wounded boy to a warrior; what could he do but test his strength? He misses the day that he had first been pinned beneath him. The both of them had been too full of laughter to recognize the significance of their equal match.

He urges Wolfsong with him into the pool, if only in to his paws, and grooms the breadth of his shoulder that he can reach as he sinks down into it. A sigh, "There is too much here for us. We cannot change our fates. Leaving now is pointless struggle; it will dog us until our ends. I must see it through, no matter where it may lead. I know it. You know it," he finishes gently. Looking up at him now, he catches the desperation in his eye and meets it with quiet fondness. His wet paw lifts so that his claws might tangle in the dense fur of his neck, pulling him gently downwards. "We cannot disappear. But for tonight, at least, we can forget about the worst of it."

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

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[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── If only the Sun-Warmed Pool were deeper for what Wolfsong needs. To wade and sink until the surface covers his mouth, bobbing against the lower stem of his nose— as close as he can get to drowning without filling his lungs with water. Would that they could both simply bathe in pure moonlight and follow it to the sky, if only for a short while. If only to find some distance from the muck and grime of a withering reign limping on like a wounded animal too stubborn to die. To think they left Sunstride's father because he was all too eager to surrender his power and Sunstride's birthright.

There is a great irony in this, he knows.

He exhales heavily, leaning into the brief rasp of Sunstride's tongue. "No, we cannot," he murmurs, his gaze skyward, and then dragged back down to earth by his mate's gaze, which he meets again. "But it might be my fate to try." Sunstride reaches and he follows, as he always has and always will, and he soaks his belly in the cooling water to press his forehead into a flame-brushed throat.

"You are my fate, wherever we go. Just...do not leave me behind."​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

The battle they have fought for a lifetime limps onwards like a wounded bear. He begins to wonder if they will ever manage to succeed. Once he had thought it simple. This place was an escape from their destiny disguised as its next step, and now they would suffer the consequences of his evasion. That they might lose the safety of this moment....he cannot think of a worse punishment. And it looms above his head. A deadly, terribly cruel thing. Sunstride's eyes close as he presses himself closer into his mate's fur, grooming behind his ears now, down the soft fur of his throat. Scenting along him as if he is desperate to intertwine their pelts for an eternity. Tie them together so they might never be pulled apart.

With the morose reluctance of one stepping into injury, Sunstride lifts his head from where he had tucked it. "You know that there is little in this world I would hate more than this," he rasps, "but this is something that I cannot promise." He hesitates, mouth opened on only a sigh. "There is something in these winds, more than leafbare's chill. I do not think that things will be as either of us would want." Though he is still belly-deep in the cooling water, his fur framed by shadow, the intensity of seriousness within his eyes glows like miniature suns. "There is something that you must swear to me, should the time come. If something is to happen, you will stay here with our kittens. Do not let them fall into her tricks the way that I once had."

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

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