to know grief in the house of muse [closed]

The sun dawned rosy and uninhibited; bitterly cold and clear sky weighted down only with the brightness of its own unperturbed intensity, sharp light reflecting tremulously across blankets and blankets of downy snows. Stiff trees, barren under the fruitless labor of the cold season and spicy with the lingering aftermath of foliage decay, rose up all around as though silent centuries, made to watch the quiet heart of the forest with little contention to the world that happened all around. It was difficult for young Achelois to find the overcrowded and uncomely depths of the forest attractive, especially after having the freedom and confidence to venture where her heart contented, but the binding weight of the strings of fate and promise kept her tied and unable to roam.

She had promised to bring her funny little new companion that she would return bearing something of benefit to his funny little warmongering society, so returned she had- bearing both Achlys and two pitiful little roadside birds, reeking of the calamity from which she came from. Wreathed in a downy mane of both freshly-disturbed snowfall and clinging bits and broken tendrils of feathers, Achelois brazenly retraced the familiarity of the path that she had walked only a few sunrises before, blotched tail a waving guide for her unfortunate littermate. Certainly, it would always be the unfortunate burden of Achlys to carry the weight of her mistakes.

Her father would likely blow an artery over this little scheme, but she could always return and seek forgiveness when needed.

The member 'Seer' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Invasion Dice' :

Stoatfur found himself weary, drained, from recent events. There were light wounds, fresh from recent battle, that had just begun to close. Thankfully, all of them were mild. Being left without a medicine cat made it near impossible to manage the many wounds. Perhaps this was Starclan's way of creating gratitude for the healers. But there was no way to be sure of their oddly mysterious ways. Although he had managed to press away worries, something had started to resurface, an ugly thing that always seemed to make him crueler.

Minkstar was not doing well. There was no doubt about it. He hadn't even had time yet to consider the implications of his own position. For now, the little brown and white tom's mind had begun to sour, focused solely on the idea of losing one of the most important cats in his life. These thoughts circled like vultures overhead and his paws carried themselves in wayward directions that were abnormal for one such as himself. Stoatfur glanced up and caught sight of two frames. In previous encounters with rogues, he had been perceptive enough to smell them, now they were practically at his nose and he hadn't noticed right away.

Fur rose and claws unsheathed. There was no room for casual banter. Until, he peered closely at the pelt of the one she-cat, eyes widened with shock and his shoulders subconsciously relaxed. It was the she-cat from the other day. Another loner was at her side but they came with prey. Stoatfur's jaw went slack. A moment passed before he was able to find words on his tongue, tilting his head, "I would have been less shocked if a badger brought me a morning meal. Why did you come back?" Had the patrols not been marking the borders well enough? Was her head filled with down? Maybe both.

Her steps had been all but silent as the duo travelled through territory she knew to belong to clan cats, and apprehension burned in every part of her body as strongly as confidence bloomed in her sisters. The aftermath of the battle against ShadowClan was still clearly displayed in the form of newly healed wounds, and intense wariness as Achelois had insisted she tag along for this journey- which, of course, she would do anything for her sister. But as her heart pounded in her ears, the regret was almost palpable and she fought to keep from closing her jaws down too harshly on the prey within.

As another cat revealed himself, she narrowed her eyes and looked cautiously to her sister, surprised to see the familiarity in which the tom greeted the other rogue. Come back? Achlys wondered momentarily, depositing the bird on the ground and halting in her tracks, tail swishing lightly against the snow beneath. In the days she had spent resting after joining the fight against ShadowClan, what had her sister truly been up to? The molly chose to remain silent, allowing her bolder sister to take the lead on the conversation.

He definitely wasn't doing well. Better than he had before, yes, thanks to finally giving in to not skipping prey, but somehow it felt like too little, too late. His limbs refused to work like they should, constantly on the edge of exhaustion, and the herbs Crowpaw gave him - too many for their dwindling Leaf-bare stores - barely kept the heat of infection away. Still, this was one of the better days, the wounds and scars around his throat starting to heal, his paws feeling more sure-footed than they had for a while. He let the quiet of the forest fill the silence between them, knowing a glimmer of what Stoatfur must be feeling and knowing enough that speaking up most likely wouldn't help ease his fears. Not to mention any reassurance would most likely be a lie. For now, the silence was amiable, for the most part, the simple comfort of being up and about and able to go out on patrol enough. There was always a vague hope. Perhaps he could struggle through to the other side of Leaf-bare and see the little heads of ferns and green life poke up out of the crisp white again....

The musings trailed off as something caught his attention, a belated realization that they were not alone coming to him on the hint of scent right before two strange cats stepped out in front of them. With prey. Though his eyes narrowed and the patchy hair on the back of his neck prickled, their stances didn't indicate aggression. And besides, if they'd wanted to, they most likely could have just jumped on the distracted pair and finished them off.

Stoatfur's exclamation brought it into clarity, and he relaxed, his gaze taking on an interested hue. "Ah, so one of these is the trespasser from a few sunrises ago?" He cocked a brow, glancing from one to the other. "I would've thought you'd like it better in SkyClan, instead of coming back here."