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Post by Willow on Nov 11, 2024 2:09:49 GMT -5
Once Stormfury was buried, Closesky waited for either of the other elders to say the ceremonial words, his head bowed in respect. A morning breeze swayed the pines. A few droplets of water fell upon the grave like a few last tears. When the silence continued, he calmly flicked his gaze to Cloudscar then Falcontalon. Cloudscar had been close to Stormfury, so Closesky assumed he'd want to be the one to speak Stormfury's send off, but he could see the lump in Cloudscar's throat. Grief that deep wouldn't allow for words. So, Closesky glanced at Falcontalon. He kept silent in case the former deputy wanted to speak instead. A few more water droplets fell. Closesky closed his eyes and breathed a long breath. We're saying these words too often, he thought. He lifted his head and spoke calmly. "Here we lay to final rest, Stormfury, warrior of ShadowClan, and we send off Moonpetal's spirit as well." He paused and breathed slowly so his voice wouldn't crack. "Each warrior gave their lives for their Clan. Stormfury sacrifice is a testament to his dedication to ShadowClan and Moonpetal death highlights her dedication to our future. We ask that StarClan accept their spirits and welcome them with honors as warriors of ShadowClan." He lifted his gaze to the sky and his face grew tight with grief. For one last time, he'd lift their names to the sky as with every ceremony of the Clans. A final honor to send their spirit to StarClan. "Stormfury," he spoke upward, but his ears fell back. "Moonpetal." Falcontalon bent his head to listen as Closesky performed the ceremony. "Neither of you will be forgotten, your names will live in our hearts and our stories for moons to come. No one will forget your bravery and your sacrifice." He stepped back as he finished speaking, dipping his head one last time toward the new grave.
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Post by Willow on Nov 11, 2024 2:14:07 GMT -5
Lynxdapple seemed to sober up at the distinct weight in the air. The small tom took the opportunity to grow more serious, now in a focused mentoring mode. “We’re tasked with tracking on this one. As soon as you catch the scents of the patrol, I want you to signal it.” He ordered Spottedpaw calmly. He glanced once at Smokestorm, wondering why the tom was acting odder than usual. Goldberry nodded once. “Their scents are strong enough that I’ll recognize it through the Carrion. Tumblefoot and I can possibly get larger prey, but the tactic requires luring. We might not have a safe window to wait in one spot if prey-maulers do lurk there still. For now, getting a single rat is better than most prey we’ve gotten these past moons.” Goldberry’s eyes grew sharp with focus. “But one rat isn’t good enough. Not for me.” Spottedpaw nodded, his ears flitting this way and that as he listened to the sounds of the forest. "Everything still smells so wet. Even the border scents are muddy." Thistlestalk hummed, "Perhaps you and Tumblefoot could try to lure them out while I take the place of a look-out? The clan needs as much prey as we can get."
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Post by Moonblazer on Nov 11, 2024 16:35:01 GMT -5
Shortcloud ran her tongue across her paw as she caught scent of the same frog. "I'll see how far my stubby legs can take me." she joked, though the look in her gaze was serious. Now was the perfect time to bring as much prey as they could find back to their mourning Clan. Brittlefoot twitched his whiskers with humor before he quickly spotted the head of the frog poking out of the nearby marsh puddle. He narrowed his eyes, slowly stalking around the mud to get a better angle to force the frog to jump towards Shortcloud. He slapped his frail paw in the mud near the frog, purposefully startling it to jump away from him and towards Shortcloud.
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Post by Moonblazer on Nov 11, 2024 16:42:04 GMT -5
Lynxdapple seemed to sober up at the distinct weight in the air. The small tom took the opportunity to grow more serious, now in a focused mentoring mode. “We’re tasked with tracking on this one. As soon as you catch the scents of the patrol, I want you to signal it.” He ordered Spottedpaw calmly. He glanced once at Smokestorm, wondering why the tom was acting odder than usual. Goldberry nodded once. “Their scents are strong enough that I’ll recognize it through the Carrion. Tumblefoot and I can possibly get larger prey, but the tactic requires luring. We might not have a safe window to wait in one spot if prey-maulers do lurk there still. For now, getting a single rat is better than most prey we’ve gotten these past moons.” Goldberry’s eyes grew sharp with focus. “But one rat isn’t good enough. Not for me.” Spottedpaw nodded, his ears flitting this way and that as he listened to the sounds of the forest. "Everything still smells so wet. Even the border scents are muddy." Thistlestalk hummed, "Perhaps you and Tumblefoot could try to lure them out while I take the place of a look-out? The clan needs as much prey as we can get." "Bound to be the case. The last time a flood this big happened, it took us a while to re-mark the borders. So, we should certainly do that today." Lynxdapple nodded, eyes drooping as he remembered how much worse it had been last time. He felt a flicker of self-relief, knowing that he had been able to run back to camp in time to give Shadowclan enough time to evacuate before the flood waters hit. He lifted his chin, before he flicked an ear. "I can definitely scent the patrol. Seems like they traveled with no issue. Good." "That could work." Goldberry relented to Thistlestalk with gratitude, before he gave a somewhat sheepish look. "This process can take a very long time, I do want you to know that. During colder moons, I've been tasked with hunting patrols sometimes for the entire day. I certainly enjoy it, it's what I do best... but it can be dreadfully boring for most others. Are you okay with keeping lookout for that long?" He asked lightly.
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Post by thistle on Nov 11, 2024 20:03:28 GMT -5
Oakfall padded along with Coalhaze, Vixenflame, and Waspflame as they went towards the WindClan border. As the pines thinned the closer they got, the wind became colder as it blustered down from the moor. He fluffed his reddish-brown pelt against the chill.
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