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Post by Fawn on Mar 18, 2019 14:45:45 GMT -5
Baby I need light, I need fire 45 Moons Warrior NightClan Lavender had been used to hide the scent of sickness on her mother's body. It had been traded in for sage leaves and bloodied globs of snow as Shadowchaser did his best to prepare Blackwolf for burial. The camp buzzed, agitated as a wasp's hive, victory and mourning in a disorderly overlap. Briarthroat was saying something - but Hollystorm didn't hear it.
The black-furred warrioress sat as still and as quiet as if her father's vigil had already begun. The shock wouldn't let her move; wouldn't let her speak.
Blackwolf is dead.
"I'm sorry," mumbled a Clanmate. Hollystorm sucked in a breath and let it out in a controlled hiss. This again. The days and nights of grief, of apologies and condolenses as if they actually amounted to anything. Blackwolf had hated them, and Hollystorm understood way. She understood better than anyone; 'I'm sorry for your loss' didn't lessen the sting or bring back the dead. It was just empty noise. A custom from everyone else.
He was old. I shouldn't be surprised. And yet the story Crowflame and Graywolf had come home with - that he'd died fighting some young TreeClan cat - left her feeling empty and offended. Offended that some TreeClan welp had ended her father's legacy; he had been a belligerent, mean old tom. But he had made NightClan proud. The 'paws he'd trained and the lives he'd impacted were not small in number.
Hollystorm started, feeling the brush of a white pelt against her contrasting black one.
Bonetail.
Bicolored eyes stared at the medicine cat's den, both of them waiting for the inevitable word that their father's vigil could begin - and they could take Blackwolf's body and lay it down in the center of camp.
"Won't be long," said Bonetail. A remark meant to fill up the space. When the battle patrol had returned bearing the body of their father, Bonetail had been just as taken aback as she - but his first priority had been to see that his kits were as safe and whole as any warrior could be. Now, while his mate fussed over their offspring, Bonetail took up position next to Hollystorm, as grim and unyielding as frost.
"Where's Coyoteheart?" Hollystorm asked, her voice sounding faraway to her own ears.
"He'll be here," said her brother, one ear rotating as though he might catch Coyoteheart's footfalls.
The siblings directed their attention to Shadowchaser, who had appeared in the entrance of the medicine cat's den. The young healer nodded. Their father's body was ready.
Hollystorm entered first, and helped lift the lifeless scarred shape onto her brother's back. If the remains of their father's blood staining Bonetail's pelt bothered him, he didn't say anything. Without a word, the siblings made their grim procession to the center of camp and laid him down.
Their mother hadn't had this type of ceremony. The sickness that tore through camp meant vigils couldn't be held with bodies just out in the open like this. But Blackwolf had died a warrior's death, and he would be treated like a warrior - even if the empty corpse in the middle of the cavern wasn't really Blackwolf anymore.
Their father was gone.
Hollystorm bowed her head, her shoulders raised tight around her ears. Bonetail's kinked tail curled around his paws, but not before gesturing for his family to join them. They would undoubtedly be tired from their battle, but the vigil wouldn't wait.
That was just like Blackwolf, to demand more of his kin than anyone else. 583 Words @poptart Taxx @calico Ghost the Undead Goddess @zen BlooRey DVD @kahani
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2019 0:28:27 GMT -5
Lilyfrost
The grey warrioress remained seated by her kit's side as the vigil for their fallen grandfather begun. She had done her best to console them, a lick here, a mummer of affection there and for once she was satisfied that her kittens were aware she loved them, felt for them. Lilyfrost showed no other reaction to Bonetail stepping forward to soothe his sister than a flick of her ear, it was not as she did not care for the warrioress' pain, quite the opposite but she knew Hollystorm well enough to know that words would not soothe the sting of loss that each of the old warrior's kin felt, even Lilyfrost herself.
She remembered how he had visited her in the nursery many times, checking on his grandkits with a sort of gruffness that endeared him to them, particularly Graywolf who had adored her grandfather and had wanted to be just like him as a kit, even taking his suffix as part of her warrior name. unfortunately times had changed and Lilyfrost was grateful to Starclan that the old tom had lived to see his only grandkits become warrior's like his own kit's before them.
The grey she cat moved only when Bonetail gestured to them, silently gliding across the ground to sit by her mate's side, letting her fur mingle with his as she lowered herself into a seated position and gently almost tentatively reached out to groom the blood from her mate's side, a show of comfort and support that he himself had shown her when her mother died, though Rainsong had died peacefully in her sleep, not bloodied from battle like Blackwolf. " I am sorry my love" she whispered in his ear.
The she cat's long grey tail curled around her mate and attempted to gently land on Hollystorm's back as a gesture of wordless comfort. It was caring but perhaps a little cruel, since consoling the other female was not Lilyfrost's only intention.
She wanted to ask her sister in law's opinion on something very important after the vigil. Since her kits had grown she had entertained the idea of becoming a queen again, after all, she was still a mother to her grown kits but her advancing moons scared her and she wanted to get the approval of her mate's siblings before she approached her mate with the matter with her own kit's and Bonetail himself.
The aging gray warrioress glanced at her two daughters, Crowflame and Graywolf, the later who resembled both Blackwolf and even Lilyfroey herself and the former so full of life and positiveness, her only son Ghostshadow was likely to be around, missing the vigil of his grandfather would spell the end for the young tom, Lilyfrost was after all very loyal. Fawn , @poptart , @calico , Taxx , BlooRey DVD , @zen , Ghost the Undead Goddess ,
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Post by Taxx on Mar 31, 2019 16:12:42 GMT -5
Watch me, I'll make a name for myself For all her bubbly nature, Crowflame wasn't big on empty wishes, on wasting breath and time thinking about how nice it'd be to have Blackwolf here still. He was gone; she'd known that when she'd spotted him lying at that TreeClan warrior's paws, when they'd driven the other Clan off and she'd approached, crouched over the form of her grandfather and saw no sign of life that a medicine cat might be able to save. In the chill air, he was already cooling. And she knew there was no chance of him coming alive again- so why bother praying for it?
It didn't mean she'd accepted it easily. She'd barely heard the TreeClan tom's order to retreat, so wrapped in grief and rage that she'd kept hammering blows on the ginger tom until Gloomfur had hauled her back, and blind fury had slowly ebbed away as she'd turned back to her Clan. Grief had taken over then, as she’d approached, as she’d stood over the limp body and felt the pain of his death as keenly as the pain of her wounds.
And now here they were, gathered in the camp, her wounds freshly treated, her white fur cleaned of blood and covered with poultices of herbs and cobwebs to hold it in place. Her cheek stung, the wound on her shoulder making her limp, but she ignored them both. Crouched alongside Graywolf, Crowflame said nothing, only showing any signs of interest when her father and aunt reappeared from the medicine cats’ den bearing Blackwolf’s body. She watched, heart twisting sharply, as they carried the old tom to the center of the camp and laid him down.
Sucking in a deep breath, Crowflame rose. Bonetail beckoned and she went to him, settling at his side and pressing her uninjured shoulder against his, while reaching to bury her nose into the black pelt of her grandfather. Blue eyes closed and she carefully tucked her front paws to her chest; her thoughts whirled with memories. When she’d been just a kit and she’d tried to pounce on his tail, and he’d turned it into a lesson on how to stalk- treating her not like a bothersome kit to be ignored. Teaching her, helping her.
She knew he’d been old, had been so since before she’d been born- but somehow she’d never really even considered that one day he’d be gone. Until he was. This was their last night with him. Come morning, they’d be expected to continue life as though nothing had changed.
Crowflame wished there was a way to hold that off. Crowflame NightClan Warrior I won't be just another face in the crowd @zen Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess || Notes
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2019 17:05:21 GMT -5
The Clan had been waiting, anticipating another victory for NightClan when the patrol Foxstar and Briarthroat had led to the deer path finally returned to camp. Darkstorm waited with several others, eager to be the first to know the results, to see the triumphant return of their Clanmates.
The patrol that returned was not one any cat would describe as triumphant, and when Darkstorm saw them bearing Blackwolf's limp body into camp, she knew that the battle had not been any sort of real victory. No matter that the Clan was told they supposedly won the battle, the deer path was theirs. TreeClan had taken a NightClan life and the battle was not over, victory could not be claimed, until TreeClan paid with a life of their own.
Darkstorm's fury burned away her grief over the loss of her mentor, the tom that had been a second father to her, and she let it, for fury brought with it purpose while grief would only make her useless. She would not wallow in grief when Blackwolf's life demanded vengeance. She would find the cat that killed him, she would make TreeClan pay the price for Blackwolf's life. Sitting at the edges of camp, burning gaze watching Blackwolf's blood family gather in preparation for his final vigil, Darkstorm sent a silent promise to the old tom's spirit that he would not go unavenged.
You could not even stomach retirement, gray muzzle. You're going to be so bored in StarClan. I don't imagine there will be any more battles for you to fight. What will you even do up there? she couldn't help but wonder. Her claws flexed, I guess I'll just have to give you some decent fights to watch instead.
Hollystorm and Bonetail carried his body from the medicine den then, laying him out in the middle of camp for the Clan to say their final farewells. She stood, stalking over, and her lip curled at the scent of lavender that came off him, hiding the scent of the death. She joined Crowflame and Graywolf at the black tom's side, sitting over him like a sentinel. Dipping her head briefly to push her nose into his fur for a moment, she growled lowly, promising once more, “TreeClan will pay for this.”
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"If you're gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks." |
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GaleClan Leader GorgeClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Apr 1, 2019 14:41:37 GMT -5
Graywolf NightClan She-Cat 15 Moons Fury. Sorrow. Pain. Revenge.
The gray feline's mind was a muddle of emotions, her heart cracked within her chest and her body sore from the hellacious brawl she had just endured with that monstrous warrior from Treeclan.
Sure, Nightclan won the battle, but not the victory.
The unyielding viciousness that rose within her smaller form early at the sight of her grandfather's lifeless body, still lingered as she she watched her father and aunt carry Blackwolf's lifeless body towards the center of the camp.
Glassy green pools sharpened to focus on her family, though thoughts of shredding the auburn warrior from Treeclan still weighed heavily within her mind. If it hadn't been for Timberfrost's interference, there was no doubt that Graywolf would have sank her fangs and her claws deep into Brackenstride's pelt.
Not that it would have brought Blackwolf back.
Once again she felt the twist of aching within the muscle beating inside her chest. The tom she had always looked up too, the tom who had been her hero from the moment she met him, the tom she had been named after... He was gone, off to Starclan to join the mate he lost many moons ago.
Fur mingling, Graywolf stood from her position of laying next to Crowflame when her sister moved to join the others around the still, black corpse of their grandfather. Pain tingled along her lithe form with every breath, her ribs still intensely bruised from the run in she had with the massive Treeclan tabby warrior. Though the stinging of her shredded ear and torn cheek were faint and forgotten.
Soft pawsteps led the medium length feline forwards, passing by Crowflame as her sister sat next to their white coated father.
It may have been selfish or from being young, but Graywolf didn't stop to think about how affected Hollystorm, Bonetail and Coyoteheart were about this recent death among them. Without their mother, and now, their father laid at their paws with the scent of sage hanging within the still air around them.
Cold, painful green pools stared down at Blackwolf as Graywolf stood there among her family and Darkstorm as they gathered to mourn his death and to remember his life. As much as she knew she needed to, she also didn't want to.
The gray warrioress wanted to scream, she wanted to yell and to be angry. Not only at Treeclan and their stupid warriors, but at Nightclan. She wanted to snap at Foxstar and Briarthroat for their neglect when it came to their boarder neighbors, it was their fault Blackwolf had to take charge. She wanted to snap at Blackwolf, for being so stubborn and tough that he insisted on coming out of retirement for the greater good of Nightclan.
Unintentionally, Graywolf's feathered tail twitched with agitation and her green pools burned with a vengeful fire. But only for a second before she finally lowered herself to a sitting position next to her former mentor, and possibly Blackwolf's greatest apprentice.
Wrapping her tail around her paws, the gray feline hid the fact that those claws of her were unsheathed and digging into the cold, hard ground beneath where she sat. The feathered tips of her gray fur brushing against the darker coat of Darkstorm next to her. It was somewhat comforting, her loyalty and bond towards the older she-cat subconsciously needed for the younger warrior.
As she finally lowered her head to press her nose into the chilly fur of Blackwolf, an ear flickered as she caught the soft words passing from the muzzle of Darkstorm. The embers of a fire stoked, green pools blazed once more as she silently agreed with her former mentor before closing her eyes to mourn the passing of the greatest warrior within Nightclan's painted history.
Though there was no plan at the moment, no talk of returning fire or engaging in victious battle, Graywolf knew she would follow Darkstorm with whatever plot she had in mind. Brackenstride and the rest of Treeclan had better watch over their shoulders when passing every shadow upon their territory.
They won't get away with this...
I'm Trouble, Y'all 696 Words || Fawn @zen Taxx @kahani @calico @poptart || Notes
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Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on May 25, 2019 8:56:19 GMT -5
59 Moons Tom NightClanA ginger tom sat among the gathered cats as NightClan prepared to endure a vigil. What had begun as a normal day had culminated in the fall of one of NightClan's most formidable warriors. Regardless of what the deceased tom had thought of the sun-colored tom, Sunpulse was smart enough to know this was a major loss for many in the Clan. Blackwolf had been a father, a grandfather, as well as a mentor countless times over. Many would be filled with a sense of loss and grief today, and Sunpulse's chest ached for them as well.
Amber eyes drifted to a black coated figure seated next to the still body of her father. The ginger warrior kept his distance out of respect for Blackwolf; it was no secret the old tom had thought very little of Sunpulse. It seemed... Right in a strange way to respect the tom's wishes after his passing. Yet the task was becoming increasingly more difficult. He could see the sorrow weighing heavily on Hollystorm, written in the sunken nature of her usually proud stature. Naming anyone stronger or prouder than Hollystorm would not be an easy task for the tom. And to see her like this...
Movement caught his eye as Bonetail waved to his family. Lilyfrost and their kits were quick to fill the space around Bonetail, brushing fur and murmuring comfortingly to one another. It made the space remaining around Hollystorm look even larger, and her even smaller. A frown pulled at the corners of his maw, tail tip twitching uneasily at the sight. Warring thoughts clashed within his head, before one finally overcame the other. For a brief moment, he swore he could hear Ghostlight's voice telling him to quit being so silly.
Rising to his paws, the sun-colored tom padded forward. He was uncertain whether his presence would be welcome. He and Hollystorm had begun on the path to repairing at least some of what had been broken between them, but this... This matter was close to her heart, this was family. Who was he to intrude? Yet he could not bear to see her seated alone any longer. There was little worse than feeling alone in a time such as this. As he approached the fallen senior warrior, Sunpulse stopped and lowered himself into a makeshift bow. Forgive my intrusion, Blackwolf. But may you rest in peace now.
With his silent prayer cast to StarClan, the ginger tom finished his journey to Hollystorm's side. With no words, not even a glance in her direction, he sat next to her, ginger tail over his paws. One shift brushed the fur of his right shoulder to her left, and he lowered his muzzle and closed his eyes. Blackwolf may very well have hated him. But Sunpulse respected the old tom. And Hollystorm was his concern now. He would sit here for as long as she needed him to, or leave if she so desired. -- Word Count: ~485 words Tags: Fawn Notes: Late but he's heeeere
Believe that it is darkest before the dawn of a beautiful new world. You will see it when you believe it.
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