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 Jun 29, 2018 7:54:34 GMT -5
[smear:f3e471]Fallenleaf [/smear:f8c56a] ~~~~~~~~~
Night always brought with it a cool respite. As she'd drifted off to sleep that evening, the StoneClan elder thanked the stars for the slight cooling of the air surrounding them. Greenleaf in StoneClan was always a struggle; the open stone areas clung to heat with unnatural stubbornness, making most day-to-day activities difficult. All she did these days was lay about in the elder's den, for moving had long since required more energy than she could muster, yet even she was feeling the effects of the incessant and stifling heat. But at night, all the uncomfortable heat ebbed away, if only a fraction.
Pale yellow eyes cracked open slowly, studying the expanse of stars high above her head. She couldn't have slept all that long, for night still dominated the sky, Silverpelt on proud display. And yet... She felt rested. In fact, she felt better than she had in moons. Fallenleaf lay there a moment longer, content to observe the world around her. It took another moment or two for a single thought to weasel its way into her mind. She shouldn't be capable of seeing so much of the sky from inside the elder's den.
A white and cream head snapped up quickly, blinking curiously at the world stretched out before her. Her eyes picked up familiar way-points despite the darkness, the white and cream she-cat slowly piecing together that this was StoneClan, except... Without all the dens and bustling life that made it StoneClan. Blinking down at her nest, the only structure present amongst the stones of which her Clan was known, she pushed herself to her paws. The movement was effortless, something she hadn't experienced in moon. Padding forward on sturdy limbs, Fallenleaf distractedly scanned the alien, yet familiar surroundings. This sweeping gaze eventually landed upon a singular black figure sitting in the center of the clearing.
Something drew her to him. She knew it was a tom, because her heart told her she knew who he was. Stone-hardened pads crossed the space between them with ease, and the elder folded her limbs into a sit at his side, turning her pale yellow gaze up to the same stars captivating his attention. Silence stretched between them, but it was not an uncomfortable one. Warring emotions crashed incessantly into one another within the she-cat's mind, and when she did eventually find the words to break the silence, her voice cracked.
"It's... Time, isn't it." It was less a question, and more a statement. A statement her heart felt reluctant to accept. From her peripheral vision, she saw the black tom turn his bright yellow gaze upon her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet it. Not yet. Eventually, he returned his attention to the stars above. "I'm afraid so, yes." He responded, his voice quiet. Pale yellow eyes slipped shut against the sting of tears as the StoneClan elder took in a shuddering breath. "I'll come with you, I promise. But..." Her eyes opened again, and she turned to look at him, a sorrowful smile on her features.
"Can we sit, j-" Her voice cracked again, but she pushed on. "Just a while longer." Her ebony-furred companion offered her an understanding smile, dipping his head. "Of course." Fallenleaf sighed, shutting her eyes and leaning her forehead against his shoulder. As the tom lay his head silently upon hers, she breathed in a scent that had been familiar moons ago. Now, it was tinged with a wild, indescribable scent. The scent of the stars she saw flecked throughout his midnight black coat. "Thank you, Blackeagle." She whispered.
"I've watched the Clan for some time now. I don't think I ever expressed this in life, but I'm glad you returned to StoneClan all those moons ago." Lifting her head from his shoulder at her brother's words, the white and cream she-cat blinked at him curiously. He met her eyes with a fond smile. "You became a pillar in the Clan, Fallenleaf. Perhaps not as obvious as Hawkstar or Eagletalon. But think of the lives your helped shape. Think of your apprentices. Of Skunkspots. Sootpaw. You provided someone they could all look up to. Come to with their troubles. You changed them, and I'm certain they will be forever grateful."
She glanced to her paws momentarily, her mind cast back to those she was leaving behind. "Not a day passed where I wasn't proud of you, my sister." Tears stung the corners of her eyes, and she glanced back up at him. "Continue like that, and I'll have to swat your ears from making me cry." She warned, and he chuckled under his breath. Straightening herself, she looked up at the stars again. "You look well, Blackeagle. StarClan has treated you well." He made a sound of acknowledgment from beside her, still watching his sister.
"I hope it treats you the same, Fallenleaf. I can't think of anyone else more deserving of rest than you." Subconsciously, the white and cream she-cat rolled her shoulders, still in awe of not being in some form of constant pain. She hadn't yet looked upon her own pelt, not quite prepared to see stars spattering her frame. Silence cloaked them again, but neither seemed to mind. After a moment, the elder asked the question that had been pressing on her mind. "They'll... They'll be alright, won't they? Skunkspots, Sootpaw... When I'm gone, I mean."
The black tom's tail swished to lay gently over her flank. "Yes. In time, they will. They will each require some time to heal, but I'm certain they will. Your memory will remain in their minds, and their hearts. And each will fulfill their own lives, because you helped them take their first steps through life." He told her gently, earning a slow nod from the former StoneClan elder. "I... I'm going to miss them, Blackeagle." She admitted, her voice raspy, heavy from the swell of emotion. "I know. And some day, you will see them again. Each and every one." He promised.
The pair remained seated there for some time, the paler coated of the two leaning into the ebony coat of her brother as she cried. With the stars glittering above her, Fallenleaf eventually found the strength to lift her head. Though tears still sparkled in her eyes, she smiled at Blackeagle. "I'm ready." The ebony coated tom returned her smile with a nod, and the pair rose on youthful paws. With his tail still draped over her flank, the white and cream she-cat let her brother lead the way to a new existence. One without pain, and one where she could finally rest.
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In the confines of the elder's den, deep in the heart of StoneClan's territory, a pale form slept. Her breathing rasped softly as she lay, sprawled out stiffly in a nest that had been hers for some time. The rasping rhythm she'd picked was interrupted suddenly, the break between her breaths lasting three heartbeats too long. When she finally did inhale, the breath was strong. Certain. Final. She didn't exhale so much as allow the air to leave her lungs as a tear slipped from behind closed eyes. Despite the tear, a soft smile curled the edges of the elder's muzzle as stillness settled over her.
StarClan welcomed another star on a Greenleaf night. |
Notes: 102 moonsHeaven (StarClan) Was Needing A Hero
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Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2018 15:13:19 GMT -5
Sootpaw woke up after spending a few moments thrashing in her nest. She was worried about something. Since her sight had been lost, her dreams had become much more vivid, as if trying to compensate for her lack of sight in the waking world. It was all things she had seen before she had lost her sight, but not necessarily in any kind of chronological order. It was chaotic to say the least. Sootpaw hated it. She'd even been tempted, once or twice, to go and ask Sandblaze or Dawnblossom for a poppy seed to guarantee her a dreamless sleep. Part of her just wished that her dream world would be as black as her waking one. Fully awake now, whether she wanted to be or not, she figured she'd take a small trip over to the elder's den. Hopefully Fallenleaf would be awake. If she wasn't... at least Sootpaw could guarantee herself a place to rest for a few moments while her thoughts became her own again. Pulling herself from her nest, she crept out into the centre of camp. The scents of the other sleeping apprentices, latticed across the den, made it easier for her to leave without accidentally treading on any tails, paws or muzzles. She did that a lot when she was still adjusting, and although they were plenty patient with her, Sootpaw always felt bad about it. Crossing over to the elder's den, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Until she reached Fallenleaf. Fallenleaf was a bundle of rapidly cooling fur. That wasn't right. She could sense no heartbeat, no rattling inhale or exhale of breath. That wasn't right, either. Sootpaw didn't have words to describe the loneliness and heartbreak she felt. All she could do was caterwaul her despair to Silverpelt, hoping someone, anyone, would come and bring Fallenleaf back. She couldn't do this alone. Not without her. 315 | BlooRey DVD
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jun 29, 2018 16:44:57 GMT -5
"Quiet!" Not quite a hiss but certainly sharper than a request, the word was out of Ospreywing's mouth before he took a moment to temper his tongue. His usual nightmares had urged him from the comfort of his nest to pace beneath the stars on the pleasant green-leaf night as he tried to shake off both the older memories of StormClan and newer scenes of a blood-strewn nursery and a pretty she-cat caught in an inferno. The silence of the camp at night always set him on edge as much as it comforted him; the stillness of the scene before him reassured him that the fight was only in his head, but then, that was what they had thought on the eve of StormClan's attack. If he had learned one lesson over his lifetime, it was that present peace was no indicator of future tranquility. There had been no sign, he was told, no whispers, not even from above. StarClan owed them nothing, and they were not afraid to remind them that particular truth. From their owner's seated position on the edge of camp, yellow eyes had seen the apprentice make her way across camp to the elder's den and dismissed the somewhat unusual sight. Fallenleaf had a way of collecting strays, Skunkspots among them, and if one of them wanted her comfort in the middle of the night, he would not be the one to interfere. Though he had never become particularly close to his sister's former mentor, he was not blind; anyone could see the way in which the elderly she-cat had become Skunkspots' bedrock in a way that he never could. But then the howling started, jolting him to his paws immediately. Long strides carried him quickly to the source of the noise - the apprentice - and ducking his head, he had entered the den and nearly hissed his command in his desperation to get her to be quiet. It was obvious why she had been wailing. Ospreywing recognized death when he saw it; they were old acquaintances, after all. Something like sadness, more for Skunkspots than himself, took his breath away for a moment before bitter acceptance at another harsh inevitability stole its place. "Crying won't bring her back," He added belatedly, voice somewhat softer as if to try to make up for his previous harshness. And neither will waking the entire camp. As one who understood intimately how precious sleep was, he knew that he was not alone in his lack of appreciation for any unnecessary interruption to an otherwise restful night. Looking at the pair of she-cats, the senior warrior took a moment to gather his thoughts. Someone, a few someones, would have to be told tonight - Hawkstar and Dawnblossom, certainly. He would send the apprentice, Sootpaw, his memory supplied after a slight pause, but she had that particular air of utter despair about her that tended to render cats useless. She was young, the feline reminded himself, and still recovering from a recent trauma. But that meant that he would go himself. "Stay here with her," The tuxedo tom said quietly, perhaps redundantly because he had a feeling that it would take some work to pry the apprentice from the elder's cooling corpse. "I'm going to get Dawnblossom and Hawkstar. I'll be back shortly." Only when he exited the den did he allow himself another pause to close his eyes and let loose the rattling breath that had been slowly building in his chest. Skunkspots would be devastated. The ache in his heart quickly gave way to that sharp bolt of anger at his helplessness in the face of death, at his inability to protect his sister from more pain. He took another breath, composing himself. And then another. He would find Dawnblossom first, he decided, and then the leader, though in reality the order was unimportant as there was no life to save anymore. Why was he even surprised? An attack on the nursery. The death of one of StoneClan's pillars. StarClan was very exacting with their cruelty; after all, they owed them nothing. BlooRey DVD @calico @zen
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Post by Fawn on Jun 29, 2018 19:30:24 GMT -5
Skunkspots 53 Moons, Warrior-Queen, StoneClan
She hadn't woken with such a sharp sense of loss since after the StormClan battle. Awake, the kind of awake that was brought on by the sudden chill of blood and heightened sense of dread, no sleep clung to her as she uncurled from Valiantstride's side. Without thought of her denmates, Skunkspots emerged from the dark mouth of the warriors' den just as a caterwaul shattered the silence like a rock to a frozen lake.
Something was wrong. It was in her bones. It was in the air. It wasn't the scent of blood or the stench of predator; it was the cold, empty ache of loss.
StarClan, please... The pleading died, left incomplete as her paws carried her straight to the elders' den. Ever the deliverer of grim news, ever a reminder of all the darkness and unfairness and misery life had ever offered them, Ospreywing reached the entrance the same moment she did. Skunkspots' gaze found his, and the truth snatched her breath away.
There was Fallenleaf, her body so still. If she viciously pushed back against reality, it was easy to imagine the elder she-cat might simply be sleeping. It was the middle of the night. Elders deserved their rest. Fallenleaf deserved her rest.
The mottled brown form curled beside Fallenleaf ruined this desperate lie, the sounds of Sootpaw's grief echoing through Skunkspots' heart. It was like a mudslide; the first stones came loose, tumbling - manageable - but small stones struck larger stones, and larger stones struck enormous ones, building up to a horrendous downward crash. She felt crushed beneath the weight, unable to breathe as she crouched beside Fallenleaf.
"Please, come back." Skunkspots' whispered plea gently stirred the elder's fur near her ears. Skunkspots froze, hoping for a twitch. Any kind of movement to show that what she knew to be true was somehow wrong. There was only stillness. Sootpaw provided a sharp contrast of life, the she-cat's flanks moving as she cried.
Skunkspots pressed her muzzle into the elder's neck, clinging to the scent, to the memories of her mentor so tightly her body shook from the strain. "Please come back," she repeated. "I still need you."
Cats die. It was the harshest truth nature had to offer. That Fallenleaf died a natural death —endured so much in her long life—should have been a comfort. There was no shaking free of the despair that soaked into her bones like tar, dragging her down and fusing her to the floor of the elder's den.
Fallenleaf had been her mentor. Her friend. Her mother, when StarClan had already taken one away from her.
Those earliest memories of apprenticeship, of the critical, self-defeating attitude—and the disrespect she'd shown Fallenleaf simply because she was injured—cut her heart to shreds. Their relationship had been rocky, but then Fallenleaf had pulled her free of her own misery. Her own self-doubt long enough to see that she could become a warrior worth the rank. Fallenleaf, always the light in her darkest hours, had helped her recover from Beetlekit's horrific attack. Whenever she fell too far, Fallenleaf had always been there to pull her back into the sunlight.
How could she repay that kind of debt? She couldn't—and now, she would never get the chance to try.
I'm so sorry, Fallenleaf. I never had the courage to tell you how much you meant to me. How much I needed you. How deeply your friendship meant. I love you. May you be free of pain and sadness in StarClan. I miss you already, mom...
I loved and I loved and I lost you And it hurts like hell
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Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2018 14:07:50 GMT -5
Cicadapaw had been sleeping soundly in the apprentices' den beside her brother. Of her entire family, Cicadapaw seemed to have weathered the tragedy of the fox attack on the nursery the best. It didn't haunt her dreams, in fact her dreams were the only place she could entirely escape the memory. In the waking world her brother's missing foot and attitude change were constant reminders, and the way her mother fretted even more than usual and both her parents just seemed sort of sad all the time because, she had come to understand, they both felt as though they had failed Beetlepaw. The fox had taken more than her brother's foot.
But while she dreamed none of that mattered. She chased butterflies and warmed herself in the sun and Beetlepaw was there, happy with four paws. Valiantstride demonstrated a hunting crouch for them while Skunkspots' tongue washed over one of Cicadapaw's ears in affection. Everything was how it was supposed to be in her dreams. And then it was all gone. Cicadapaw's head shot up, pelt bristling as a cry shattered the silence of the night. Were they being attacked? For a heartbeat, she wondered if a fox was in the nursery again.
She was out of the den before she knew it, looking around wildly, but there was no battle cry, no snarling or screeching to alert her to a desperate battle against a predator, and she recognized her uncle and mother heading toward the elder's den. Bounding after them, she paused at the entrance in time to see her mother crouching beside Fallenleaf, murmuring soft pleas, and the young she-cat felt a sharp pain in her heart at seeing her mother look so distraught as she pushed her muzzle into the dead elder's fur. When she saw the tremble course through her mother's form, she rushed forward to press into the black and white fur.
She wasn't sure what to do, what to say. She just wanted to make her mother's sadness go away. If it was a tangible thing, she would have unsheathed her claws and fought it back for her, no matter what horrific form it took, but she couldn't do that. She pressed closer, speaking softly for once in her life, “You're not alone, momma....” It was a weak attempt at comfort, but Cicadapaw had never had to do this before. She didn't know how to comfort a cat who had lost someone they cared about so much. “She... she's watching from StarClan, isn't she?” Even as she said it, it seemed hollow comfort. She pushed her nose into her mother's fur, StarClan, how do I make her happy? Fawn
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