𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 ╱ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒

[SUNSTAR]

[ brief description of a dead prey animal in the first paragraph ]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ Against the background knell of birdsong and rushing river water, his own heartbeat fades to a dull thudding rhythm. A once vehement call for life a mere echo. It is no greater than the hare that cools between his paws. Though the poor creature had been a fresh kill some few moments ago, death quickly cooled any corpse. Once a heart gave up there is not much left that the a body may do but rot. Without a warrior's waiting maw to tear flesh from bone and bury their remains, the hares of the moor would find little honor. (Did they care for as much the way that he does? Do they care for the manner in which their lives end, even after they are done?)

He cannot linger long on the thoughts of death. The ash-pelted hare before him becomes Wolfsong's still flank. Heaving breaths pull his heart back down to its place in his chest, though his throat swells in protest and his claws dig into the earth. Without their grip he might fall from this plane. Away from this river and its taunting prey and to the stars he cannot help but abhor. The dead are blameless yet they still watch. Healthy, safe, with their claws in his mate's hide. Hauling him towards them. (He does not belong there. With Bearflight, yes, with his clanmates– but not with the weak and worthless watchers who mourn and ignore. StarClan would waste him, and so they cannot have him.)

Finally there is a break. In his looming attention and the distant grass across the water's edge. Alone, Sunstar straightens up defensively. The strenuous peace at the end of Smokestar's time has come to a terrible end in the great conflagration of memory. They were Sootstar's once more, and he would not beg for their leader to see him any differently. How amusing, then, that it is her pelt which he first notices. Three paws shift backwards. His missing limb looms over the hare as if those missing claws yank back his meal in defense. Should all go well, it will not be his for much longer. "Lichenstar," he greets cautiously. "Hazecloud." Pallid eyes dart down to track the appearance of two more. Apprentices, he must guess, but he does not linger there.

"You have had a successful hunt, it seems." The fish that they carry are not among Sunstar's favorite foods. Since coming to the moor he had learned to eat as they do. To love what they loved. His mate, resolute as he was, did not forget so easily. Wolfsong still loved fish. They had not had it in many moons — he will hope, at least, that they could indulge in this. "It is good timing that I am here to offer a trade." The burnished tom awkwardly lowers his head to nudge it closer to the border. One of the apprentices holds a fat fish, but his hare is greater still. An unfair trade. As soon as he nudges it closer, he knows that the warriors will see it as such.

Before they get suspicious, Sunstar rushes to explain. "My mate — Wolfsong — his time with the ill has taken its toll." He opens his mouth, closes it again. Briefly, his heart rises once more. "He rests with our sick now, recovering from yellowcough. Fish has been a favorite of his since we were kits. I will gladly trade this hare to see him eat once more."

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞06.17⌝ 🟒ᨒ

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  ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. @lichenstar @hazecloud @EVENINGPAW @shellpaw :)
  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

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  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
  
  
  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove.

• "speech"

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[EVENINGPAW]

Eveningpaw will have to adapt to the changing of seasons. Before, it had been pleasant; when newleaf bled into greenleaf, she only noticed the warmer rays of the sun, and the fade from new growths into full-blown foliage and greenery, and the humdrum of cicadas. Perhaps she ought to copy her sister in that regard; Shellpaw has much more experience with infamous leaf-bare thanks to age and to a rogue-ridden past Eveningpaw detests to think about. Had RiverClan not been so fortunate, Shellpaw would not have returned... or only on the battlefield, against kin and friends.

Temperatures are far from freezing yet, but Eveningpaw is appreciative of the fish within her grasp that keeps her teeth from chattering. There's a chill in the air that had not been present before — it makes her still somewhat soaked fur feel frigid. At least the company can keep her distracted.

She feels... tense, with Lichenstar, but she is not entirely sure if it is self-made. Does her mother still expect her to run headfirst into trouble? Eveningpaw had not uttered another word to them aside from the necessary ones, like a shy greeting or a hastened report. Shellpaw's presence is always comforting, like all of her other siblings', but Eveningpaw is miles more appreciate of it today. She allows her flicking tail to brush over that frail flank; a reminder that she is here.

The family outing soon receives a new addition — Sunstar is no stranger, courtesy of his status, but Eveningpaw still looks at him like she's never seen him before. Is he hoping to intrude? Surely not... he is not doing a great job at keeping himself hidden, and he must not be so stupid to think the four of them would not notice.

"Sunstar," she greets in turn, fish dropped onto her paw to keep it from the dirt of flimsy grass. He had not uttered the apprentices' names — probably unable or unbothered to recall — but Eveningpaw feels compelled to say so anyway; only polite to greet a rival Clan's king, but also a reminder of her indisputable presence.

Reluctantly, she opts out of saying any more. Sunstar's explanations beg to be discussed out in the open, but Eveningpaw does not need to embarrass herself in front of not only her parents, but also their rival. Rival, ally, whatever the standing might be now... it is hard to track without being apart of the council and without attending the Gathering each full moon. A trade, he suggests, and Eveningpaw's eyes flick between her own fish and Shellpaw's. Are Hazecloud and Lichenstar going to agree?

Eveningpaw allows her gaze to break away from Sunstar — trusting that he will remain there, if the RiverClan leader and deputy are staring straight at him —, and speaks to Shellpaw only with her eyes: Is this not weird or what?
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