Asexual
Warrior of Love :heart: :heart:
Cyanidestar/Bumblebubble
Underneath darkened skies, there's a light kept alive...
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Post by Cyanidestar/Bumblebubble on Nov 13, 2024 8:02:24 GMT -5
Bristlefur - patrol
It
was
so
cold.
Bristlefur padded after Hawkheart, who proceeded to conveniently get snow dropped on him from a branch. "...Guys, let's dig him out, before this mouse-brain gets frostbite.". That would've been terrible. as so many cats at temp camp were already sick or injured. They felt something cold hit them, and in retaliation, Bristlefur threw some snow back at Sapling. "Take that," After, the patrol devolved into a snowfight, like kits would. Like Dashkit should've.
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Lesbian
#ACEBF6
Name Colour
Feathertalon
Bird Overlord
unofficial chicken whisperer
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Post by Feathertalon on Nov 13, 2024 11:34:40 GMT -5
Fawnstar »
injured cat with beechfawn - sharptail duststep - 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 & dogstripe - moonKT60633 wishes starclan wouldn't have taken quickshade
& hopes mousepaw recovers
Death was following the Clan around like a wolf, stalking them no matter where they went. If they hid, the wolf discovered their trail and sniffed them out. If they ran the wolf would trot alongside them, waiting for them to tire out. They were being hunted down. They were once predators, but now they were prey. Never in all of her leadership, in all of her life, had Fawnstar felt so similar to a mouse - small, nervous, weak. From fire to flood to sickness, death was following. Death was watching. Fawnstar wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue on with all this tragedy.
When she had become PlumClan’s leader she had sworn to her ancestors and her Clanmates that she would use her nine lives to protect them. She had sworn to be there when her Clan needed her, to serve as a leader that put only her Clan first, but these last few seasons, all these deaths… Fawnstar wasn’t sure she was holding up to her promise. She wasn’t sure she was being the leader her Clan needed right now. She cared for her Clanmates deeply, loving them just as she loved Forestfreckle, Auburncreek, and Havenspots. Each and every cat under her care were individuals, different flecks of snow that fell from the sky as it did now. They all had their own dreams and wishes, their own needs and wants. Fawnstar understood that, and she wanted to help every Clanmate of hers to achieve their aspirations, but how could she when a wolf followed them every step of the way? How could she help them when she wasn’t able to fight the wolf off? Six lives left to give to her Clan, but did she even deserve those six lives? Was she the right leader PlumClan needed now?
Tragedy after tragedy after tragedy. Death after death after death. The fire had taken so many of her Clanmates. The flood had taken so many of her Clanmates. And now disease was taken from her Clan. First had been Meowyman, the ancient tom found in PlumClan borders. His passing had not been a surprise, but when Quickshade had been pronounced dead the whole Clan had fallen silent. The old molly had been, well, old, a member of the elders, but hearing the medicine cats declare her dead, knowing that whitecough had been the end of the wise old cat… Fawnstar’s body had never felt heavier. And there were cats in her Clan who were still ill or injured. Jamilah had contracted whitecough. Finchheart had a sprain. Larchspeck had a broken leg and whitecough. Fire, flood, disease. Tragedy after tragedy. Death after death. She prayed her Clan could pull through. She prayed that cats like little Mousepaw, a Clanmate ill with infection running through her veins, would pull through. She prayed to StarClan that those who had already succumbed to their ailments would make it to the stars easily. Yet in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but ask why they had taken so many cats from her. Why did they keep taking? StarClan had no need for cats like Quickshade just yet. PlumClan needed her still.
No, she told herself, StarClan knew what they were doing. If PlumClan still needed Quickshade, if PlumClan still needed Auburncreek or Duskfeather, then StarClan would have allowed them to live for many more seasons yet.
That’s what she was going to keep telling herself. To loosen the weight of guilt just a bit.
In an attempt to help ease the guilt even more, to give herself a distraction, Fawnstar had assigned herself to a quick border patrol alongside Duststep, Dogstripe, and Beechfawn. She would be a better asset to her Clan if she were out doing something productive rather than curled up in her nest pondering all the hardships PlumClan had been handed in the last few moons. Trying to keep warm as snow gently drifted down from the sky was enough to distract her as well, her subconscious focusing on warmth while her consciousness focused on keeping up with her Clanmates.
But as fate would have it, more upsetting news was right around the corner.
It was Duststep who called out first, alerting the rest of the patrol of a cat in the middle of the road. Fawnstar was skeptical at first, unsure of what her Clanmate had spotted, but as she eased closer, it became clear that there was a cat under the snow, specks of frozen white dotting their pelt that was darkened by blood. Are they dead? The words never left her mind, a thought she was sure the entire patrol shared. A knowing glance passed between the four cats, the silent confirmation that Fawnstar had already been aware of. ”Let’s honor them as we would our -” Her words were cut short when the snow shuddered atop the cat, the weakest of coughs emerging from the wounded feline’s throat. They’re still alive! How a combination of bloodloss and hypothermia didn’t end this fact, Fawnstar had no idea, but if life still stirred between their flanks, then Fawnstar was willing to give them a second chance. Her Clan was riddled with disease and their medicine cats out of commission, but she knew she couldn’t just leave this cat out here to die. They had a better chance in the warmth of her makeshift camp than they did out here.
Looking between her patrolmates, Fawnstar made a quick decision. ”Let’s get them out of the snow, but be careful. We’ll bring them back to camp.” With a swish of her tail and a new pep inside her pawsteps, Fawnstar began digging the cat out, making sure to remain mindful of the injuries this cat had sustained. Hit by a monster by the looks of it, and with the other context clues around them it was a no brainer what had happened. As the patrol dug the cat out, and despite the blood-stained fur, Fawnstar was becoming more and more aware that this cat looked familiar. Eerily familiar…
The fur along her spine bristled. ”Stargazer?” Swirling tabby marks arranged upon a warm pelt of cinnamon created this feline’s pelt, and upon further inspection this injured feline was a molly. But…it made no sense. Fawnstar had passed by Stargazer on her way out of camp not that long ago, and if Stargazer had followed this exact path then surely Fawnstar and her patrol would have picked up her scent even in the snow. There was no way this cat was Stargazer, but she looked exactly like Stargazer.
Fawnstar closed her eyes, silently willing Duststep, Dogstripe, or Beechfawn to pick up the wounded cat. She couldn't handle another Clanmate death. She couldn’t do this again. So many vigils, so many graves made. There was no way this could be Stargazer, and yet there was no way this wasn’t Stargazer.
Please, StarClan, stop taking my cats. |
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Post by polarized on Nov 13, 2024 16:53:42 GMT -5
 Firnvoice - Tries to set a good example for younger cats
- Appreciates Cloverfur’s help
- Talks to Beechfawn
- Shed - Hunting Patrol
{--}
with Wildclove, Kiteprickle Firnvoice stood in front of the nursery, staring into the dark den. Inside, was 3 kits. Hopefully they could see her now, strong as any warrior. It might give them hope. She had never felt the loss of a littermate, as she was a single kit. It must be painful. She only hoped her strong posture would set a good example for the kits to look up too. She stretched, finding Beechfawn. Anyone who knew Firnvoice was that she enjoyed a good morning ramble. One way to get all her worries off her chest, she supposed. “I had never swam before! But honestly, you should’ve seen me. I was paddling like a fish, and carrying Finch at the same time!” She purred, her voice cracking with age and humor. “Hopefully I don’t have to swim again for a lifetime,” She croaked, before finding herself towards the fresh kill pile.
Only thing was, when she had picked up her mouse, she had no idea where to enjoy it. Everyone had been set into their own groups, and she still felt like an outsider. She felt a sudden rumble in the ground, her fur prickling. It wasn’t another flood, surely? Thank the stars it wasn’t. Turning her head, she caught the gaze of Cloverfur. He was a kind cat, as most parents in PlumClan were, and she blinked at him graciously before trotting over with the mouse hanging from her jaws. “Thank you.” She meowed, before sitting beside him, appreciating his help. It wasn’t long until the mouse was gone, and she licked the leftovers from her jaws. As a loner, she could never had experienced this. She was always alert, trying to sense something before it came. It was hard with no hearing, but nothing a stubborn cat like Firnvoice couldn’t handle. After all, she was a warrior. A warrior could do anything.
- - -
Firnvoice bushed up her fur, the chill spreading to her bones. It was cold! If she was still a loner, she would be in a safe place, relying on herself to survive the cold. Atleast she had a clan now, with loyal clanmates that would stand by her until her final breath. “What was that?” She turned her head, to see Wildclove and Kiteprickle having a conversation. She nodded when they explained again. “Of course. If anything, prey always hangs around old Twoleg dens. It’s worth a shot,” And with a final debate of the patrol, they headed for the shed. Hopefully they would find something there. It was worth a try, after all.
It was a long, cold walk. By the time they had reached the dreaded shed, she could hardly feel her paws. The snow on her pelt blended in, yet she knew she could feel it. She shook out her fur, glad they had made it to the shed. She dreaded the walk back, but with prey in her jaws, it would be more enjoyable. Firnvoice headed in first, unaware of what the two warriors were talking about behind her. She stepped lightly, aware of the slightest movements. She didn’t want to shake the ground any more than a mouse would, keeping her presence silent.
There it was. She narrowed her gaze, focusing on the tiny moving scrap. It wasn’t much than a mouthful, but prey is prey. She was ready to pounce, before being almost knocked over. Looking behind, Wildclove had missed a step. She hissed, her fur fluffing up. “Honestly! Watch your paws, next time! I missed a mouse because of your foolishness.” She growled, before looking over to Kiteprickle. She hadn’t caught anything either. The one bit of prey in the shed had fled, leaving nothing. She snorted, before walking out the shed. What a waste of time. However, she didn’t want the young warrior to feel guilty. “It was worth a shot, Kite. Next time, we will go somewhere else. If we tell the other warriors, we can catch more prey in the future.” She rested her tail on the young mollies flank. “And,” Looking forward to Wildclove. “To teach old toms like him a lesson to watch their paws,” She chuckled dryly. She still felt freezing. Hopefully she wouldn’t catch a sickness like the other cats. The medicine cats already had their paws full. She shook away the thought, and decided to pick up her pace. “We should get home quicker. Less cold for us, less work for the healers. Come on,” She nudged the other two in a playful way, before trotting ahead. Maybe in camp, a new, plump squirrel would be waiting for her.  |
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Post by polarized on Nov 13, 2024 17:02:29 GMT -5
 Larchspeck - Woke up feeling pumped! (Somehow?)
- Catches whitecough
- Broken leg…
{--}
with n/a
He was pumped! His blood was pumping fast, energizing his thoughts and paws. He wanted to go out for a stroll, yet was interrupted by a stupid mutt.
Larchspeck ran and ran, his weak leg slowly limping until it eventually snapped. Thud. The sound went right through his ears. A sudden rush of pain blasted through his bengal body, hitting him like a monster on the thunderpath. He yowled, unaware of what cat had saved him, yet thankful nonetheless.
He had woken up in the healers den, his leg covered in whatever herbs the healer decided to use. Not like it mattered anyways. Why did he have to deal with this stupid paw? Couldn’t another warrior take such a silly burden? He couldn’t run the same anymore. Anytime he did, his leg just broke again. Like yesterday.
The memories flooded through him. The drooling. The barking. The immense danger. The dog had been right behind him, causing him to run as fast as he could with a weak leg. It wasn’t very fast. He had been very close to death, he knew that, but didn’t understand. Why did StarClan taunt him like that? Make him close to joining them, then forcing him to be stuck in the healers den again. How many times would this repeat? Leaving, the leg breaking again, and spending another couple of moons. A sane warrior couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t live like this.
To make matters worse, being stuck in the healers den, full of other sick cats, had soon come to bite him in the tail. He caught whitecough himself. He coughed and coughed, until he didn’t feel like himself anymore. He was done, with the constant pain. Why was he cursed like this? What had he done wrong? Sometimes he wished he still had Auburncreek. She was the only warrior that understood him. Even if she was still here, would she still like him? He was useless. Utterly useless. He couldn’t run. He would just be sent back here again. She would probably laugh at him, like every other cat. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to curl up in his nest and shut his eyes. If he was lucky, maybe he would be out tomorrow. But he knew that wasn’t true. Somewhere, in his thoughts, he knew it wasn’t true. Tags |
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Post by stonekeeper on Nov 13, 2024 22:17:20 GMT -5
Golddusk- Solitude, thinks Snowkit is being annoying, is annoyed that Snowkit wouldn’t take a hint and continues to bother him, is feeling awfully gloomy It was a quiet winter day. At least it was until Golddusk noticed Snowkit leaving the medicine den and running straight toward him. He eventually got up and moved away, feeling annoyed by Snowkit’s antics. He noticed the kit beginning to follow him so he sped up his pace, hoping that the kit would get the hint that Golddusk would like to be left alone. To his dismay, his actions doesn’t seem to deter the kit who only continued to bother him even more. Eventually, he noticed Snowkit going back to the nursery. Finally, some peace and quiet! Golddusk thought to himself. He then decided that he wanted to go on a hunting patrol. He looked around the makeshift camp. He noticed that most of the cats are either too busy doing something else or sick. If Golddusk wanted to hunt, this is something that he will have to do alone. This was fine with him since he could have the time to himself and clear his mind for a moment. He then left camp, heading towards the orchards, which he knew is usually full of prey. Once he arrived there, snow was starting to fall gently towards the ground. He took a look around the orchard, noticing how quiet it was. No birds sang or fluttered amongst the now empty branches nor could he hear mice scurry somewhere nearby. He sniffed the air, scenting nothing of interest. Whatever scents of prey he could pick up had long since gone stale. If there were prey in this orchard, they would had either long retreated back to their burrows or flown elsewhere. Golddusk searched the orchard some more, not wanting to return to his clan empty-pawed. Especially not when they’re struggling so much after the fire, the flood and now the spread of sickness. Not when so many of his clanmates are struggling with diseases and couldn’t hunt at the moment. If only I could catch just one bird or mouse! Golddusk thought. Yet, no matter how much he searched, the orchard remained devoid of life. Eventually, Golddusk had to give up the hunt. He cannot catch prey that did not currently exist in the orchard, after all. He then reluctantly turned back towards the direction of the camp. He felt awfully gloomy on the seemingly long way back, feeling disappointed in the fact that he couldn’t bring anything back for the clan. snowfall1 |
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