The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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Characters : [R]owansong [Ro]okflight [S]ilverhawk [P]igeonpouce [F]ish [T]wilightkit Clan/Rank : [R] RiverClan T5 Elder [Ro] RiverClan T4 Warrior [S] ShadowClan T3 Warrior [P] T2 RiverClan Warrior [F] T2 Rogue [T] RiverClan Kit Number of posts : 2483 Gender : any or username Age : 22
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Fri 23 Feb 2024 - 20:04
"Some days end when I need a few friends."
Birdstar SkyClan | she/her
Just before her paws would've made Nightdancer's neck crumple, a flash of mottle fur streaked into sight, throwing its weight into the fight. Birdstar staggered back, lip curling in surprise and aggravation. But the sound of pain her blow earned came in a familiar tone; a blink to clear the haze of red from her eyes proved it was Mottlestar. Birdstar considered slapping a paw to the side of her head to drop her body weightlessly to the ground, but the tortoiseshell's words gave her pause. She wouldn't take her eyes away from the new opponent, lesson from Nightdancer fresh in her mind, but a labored grunt of acknowledgment left her maw. She could hear the wails around her--many of them simply of terror now. No howls of war, cries for carnage or vengeful howls of pain. Just fear. Any sounds of pain were just wracked with sobs, no determination to fight back. Birdstar rocked slightly on her paws.
Then claws bit into her flank, pulling a rolling growl out of her. Birdstar swiped at Mottlestar, making more of an effort to communicate she leave than to strike out before wheeling around. Immediately, her pupils narrowed to hungry slits when her gaze fell on the one who attacked her. "No," she wheezed around a puddle of blood stuck in the corner of her mouth, "this isn't over, Perchstar. You've made sure of that."
Birdstar used Front Paw Strike on Mottlestar and Switching Focus, dealing 12 (10+2) damage and costing 12 (7+5) SP.
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Fri 23 Feb 2024 - 20:15
"I'm sorry,"
Something cracked inside Silverdusk at the utter despair in Honeydew's voice, sympathy for the small warrior before her. Their pelt still bristled with rage, tears fell down their cheeks, mixing with the blood that pooled beneath them. Despairingly, she gazed at Honeydew as an internal war waged inside the tall warrior. Honeydew's strength was failing, clear as day, her legs trembling not with fear but exhaustion as they stared up at Silverdusk. Did she leave Honeydew here, hope they survived? Continue the cycle?
As Honeydew's legs finally gave out though, Silverdusk had their answer: No, despite their fight Honeydew was innocent. She did not deserve to die here and she would not die today. Silverdusk reached forward, catching Honeydew over their back. The sudden weight made her knees buckle, but they forced themselves upwards. Honeydew began to speak voice hoarse and weak, asking for their name. Even after everything, all the pain she still felt they managed a small smile.
"I am Silverdusk."
Her wounds stretched and pulled as the molly began to walk, stumbling through the snow and exhaustion to the thick of battle. "Do not speak, little warrior. Save your strength for another day." they mewed gently. Atop her they felt Honeydew go limp, all strength sapped from them, the only sign of life the rise and fall of the cream cat's chest. Silverdusk doubted she would hear the next words they uttered "You fought valiantly, I am proud to say I faced you." She weaved a path through the fallen bodies, and ongoing battles, eyes lingering on each and every one.
Beachfang, staring upwards lifeless, a cream tom curled around her cooling form. Mouth moving, but they could not hear the words, nor did they particularly want to. Their eyes fell to Cindersky next, Littlesplash's companion. She was drenched in fear -scent, eyes begging as she stared towards the tom. Once again, Silverdusk felt their heartstrings being pulled. As she passed Cindersky, they gently pressed their nose to her forehead. "I will make sure he comes home." she whispered. Not far from Cindersky was Vipershade's still warm corpse that signature smirk upon his maw in spite of everything. It almost made them laugh, even as raw anguish clawed at their chest. There was something she would like to say, a thank you for saving Littlesplash, but it felt empty when the cost had been his life. Gently though, she bent down and began to lick his throat cleaning the gore from around the wound on his neck. They didn't balk at the taste, they just cleaned it as best they could in the limited time they had to get the warrior atop their back to her medicine cat.
Lastly, green eyes were cast upon Sunfire. A growl of pure hatred rumbled in their chest. He was so pathetic, the most disgusting vile creature Silverdusk had ever seen. Their claws were itching in their sheathes, screaming to be released, to split the golden warrior open and watch him bleed to death. A death that if anything would be merciful towards him and everything he had done. No, if Silverdusk were to kill him she would draw it out, make him feel the pain that ThunderClan, that Mottlestar and Wiggleworm felt from his actions tenfold. He was down, unable to fend her off, they could do it. Their lips pressed into a hard line as they began to stalk forward, towards the weakened SkyClanner. That was until, they remembered she had his kin slung across their back, and she had promised that Honeydew would not die. Her eyes then landed on Mottlestar now engaged with Birdstar, she was more entitled to taking Sunfire's life than they were. A frustrated snarl left their throat, and using an unsheathed paw they dug into the sand along the bank and lobbed it at him. It exploded across his face satisfyingly, speckling his golden pelt with brown, marking him dirty and unworthy.
Silverdusk quickened their pace the closer they grew to Thymelight and Littlesplash's form. Her chest heaved with the effort, perhaps they should not have taken so long being sentimental on their way back. Honeydew's chest still rose and fell, thankfully evenly, but it was certainly getting weaker. "Medicine cat!" yowled Silverdusk, beelining towards Thymelight. As Thymelight neared the pair, she dropped their shoulder letting Honeydew's unconscious form slip to the ground. "She has lost a lot of blood, do what you can for the little warrior. Please, I do not want her to die, she is the best of your clan. If there were more like your little warrior, none of this would have ever been necessary." they mewed. Silverdusk pressed their nose to Honeydew's as they passed, whispering a small prayer to Gekala for the brave she-cat.
Seeing Littlesplash, broken and afraid, shattered the tall warrior. Immediately, she curled themself around him, snarling at Foxtrot. He reeked of SkyClan, even if he didn't seem aggressive, stars knew he could turn at any second. There was no trust between Silverdusk, and him. He wasn't a medicine cat and he wasn't the little warrior. To her he was no different. "I never got to thank you for herbs." they mewed through a choked chuckle to Littlesplash. Silverdusk lifted their head and then mewed a quiet "Thank you." to Thymelight.
Characters : Murkyriver ♀ | Mistwalker ♀ | Mintglade ♀ | Crakeburn ♀ | Snowvixen ♀ | Hollowpaw ♀ Clan/Rank : Riverclan | Skyclan | Windclan Number of posts : 4939 Gender : She/Her - ash was here :3 and Ro! Age : 21
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Fri 23 Feb 2024 - 20:32
"Yes."
The answer to Nightdancer wasn't so much of a statement as it was an affirmation of command. It was her duty as a leader to give each and every one of her Lives for her clanmates. If she went down? She would keep on living. They wouldn't be nearly as fortunate. That was a statement of fact that had quickly become apparent on the battlefield around them as warrior after warrior was forced to the ground from what happened. Beechfang's life had been claimed. Mottlestar had a life claimed, and the blood that stained her entire face had become a war paint that she would forever feel for the rest of the time she walked the forest. She let out a hiss as the large leader swiped at her, catching at some of her wounds and opening them even further.
Perchstar's appearance certainly wasn't unwelcomed. The moment that the large leader dared to whip away to face off against her silver and white friend, the tortoiseshell seized the opportunity. Small paws, filled with the power of the stars, launched upwards to bear themselves against the side of Birdstar's skull. Her claws stayed unsheathed, grasping for any ounce of fur or flesh that they would be able to thus grip into. "You made sure of it." She hissed, fighting with everything she had to keep going.
Mottlestar used Stop being Stupid Upright Lock on Birdstar, dealing 14 (12+2) damage and using 9 stamina.
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Fri 23 Feb 2024 - 20:48
Around them, the war began to draw to a close. Most of Perchstar's Clanmates were severely bloodied, injured, including her medicine cat who she'd nearly lost again to SkyClan's violence. It was only due to Fawnshine that Poppyshine was still up, despite how many scars she'd doubtlessly gained. All of this, all of this, for a cat who was now no longer living. All of this for what? Birdchaser gained nothing by continuing the fight. It was over. It was over. And yet of course she refused, with the same aggravating selfishness that had brought them to this point. Perchstar's eyes narrowed, mere slits of ice boring into a cat she'd once been foolish enough to think of as a friend. All of this could have been avoided, her thoughts reminded her, swirling endlessly in and in on themselves in an effort to escape the sounds of sobbing and whimpers of pain. I settled for exile. I did not demand death. I had mercy. I had mercy, Gingerstripe, and this is where it got me. No one will accept my mercy! She was not so base as to let the snarl she desired to let out touch her lips, and her hackles remained flat. The only sign of the rage that reawakened at the reminder of how high the cost had grown was her narrowed glare, and the claws that remained unsheathed. "One way or another, you hypocrite," she promised, her neutral tone lowered to a venomous timbre, "it will be."
Thankfully she was not fighting this alone, as the murderous intent in Birdchaser's eyes did not escape her. Mottlestar was there to assist, bringing her paws crashing down on top of the traitor's head. It would have warmed her heart, had it not been completely frozen over in the fires of righteous wrath, to have a true friend alongside her. For some reason the word beloved entered her heart once more, but she had to blink hard to shake it off. Of all the thoughts and emotions to breach containment, a positive one? It was quickly iced out by looking at the opponent before her, however. The cause of all this. The one who had sent all of these cats in to bleed and die in order to protect a murderer, and in doing so, shown her paw as a leader of a Clan of murderers. Each and every one of them. All the innocent who suffer from your stubbornness and pride... That was all it took. But it would be hard to get in a hit while being so hard-focused, seeing the green eyes lock onto her form--and so Perchstar dropped down for a moment onto the ground. It wasn't difficult; all she had to do was channel the exhaustion that she had been locking out of her limbs and they suddenly collapsed beneath her. She mimicked the movements that she'd seen Poppyshine do, crumpling to the earth just as her friend had--which attempted to reawaken the fear in her, even now. She refused. Just one moment she waited there, apparently catching her breath, luring the false leader in even closer. Then with a glint of blue eyes and sharp claws she lashed upwards, striking at any inch of flesh she could reach--especially at the face, at the eyes that had refused to see.
Perchstar used Play Dead, dealing 14 (12+2) damage and costing 6 (7-1) stamina.
~~PM me here or on Discord if you want a topic with any of my cats!~~ ~Wonderful Signature by Xaandiir!~
xaandiir Former Staff
Characters : [P]oppyshine; [Pi]neblossom; [W]hisperear; [C]rookedlight; [L]arkspring; [Wi]llowwisp Clan/Rank : RC T5 Deputy; SC T5; WC T5; SkC T5; RC T4; RC T4 Number of posts : 2953 Gender : Any Pronouns Age : 25
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Fri 23 Feb 2024 - 22:39
Poppyshine
When Foxtrot relented and shrugged her off, Poppyshine let out a breath of relief. She almost sunk to the ground, if not for the wired feeling she had from the adrenaline running through her veins. With her enemy pacified, Poppyshine looked to her fallen clanmate beside her. Cindersky looked to be in agony, but not from her wounds; she stared out across the field and when Poppyshine looked too, her heart sank at seeing Littlesplash, barely past the -paw name, with a wound. SkyClan’s medicine cat was tending to him, which she was grateful for—but there was still fighting. Perchstar and Mottlestar up against Birdstar who looked like she was ready to tear them both to shreds, and then one of their ThunderClan allies fighting against—Briarstar? Poppyshine thought she was hallucinating for a moment, and she shook her head. All of the other fighting was concluded; given up or their allies dead or too injured to keep going. There was no point in any of this.
Poppyshine looked to Cindersky and got in her vision for a moment. “It will be okay. Littlesplash will be alright,” she assured her in a quiet whisper. “Please just rest. The fighting will be over.” Stars, she hoped it would just end.
She looked forward again and moved to the fight she was certain she could quell. She ran up behind Comfreyheart, facing Briar(star?) and she gave her a quick, clawless smack against the side of her head.
“Enough of this,” she hissed at her, her patience gone. “The other fights have ceased. There is no need to keep going until she collapses.” Poppyshine looked back towards the only other fight still ongoing, where the three leaders were locked together. Her voice rose up, cracked and broken from exhaustion and pain of this whole experience. “Please, let us be done with this! Let us go our own paths and go home.” Whether her words would actually be listened to by the leaders…at this point, Poppyshine had no faith in that.
Poppyshine used Front Paw Blow against Briarthorn, but is not keen on continuing any fight.
Characters : Falconmoon, Auburnrain, Sagefeather, Asmodeus Number of posts : 2987 Gender : Female; She/Her Age : 32
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sat 24 Feb 2024 - 0:02
Falconmoon watched and waited, quietly listening... and admittedly felt some satisfaction watching Briarthorn take a good whack from the Riverclan deputy. He needed that, he supposed, after all of this. His eyes lingered on Comfreyheart, eyeing the gash in her shoulder. There was a flicker of concern, but he blinked and looked away, banishing it to depths unknown in his psyche. The begging and pleading from Riverclan's side however was beginning to annoy him.
Were they all so ignorant, naïve and stupid to think this was the last time there would be a battle with Skyclan? Did they think they would all go home, nurse their wounds and raise their kits quietly in the nursery, they would all grow up to be warriors and never know strife with the clan they shared borders with? They were in for a very nasty surprise. Falconmoon knew where this all lead. There was no end. Not until someone proved they were the bigger cat and took a personal loss on the chin.
He was willing to be that cat, but he was only a warrior. He was a foot solider doomed to pry the life from many Riverclan and Thunderclan bodies beyond the worthless lives of the leaders. They had nine. Everyone else, only one. The leaders' lives were not nearly as valuable.
Accept what you've done, Perchstar. Accept that you have burdened your clan and Thunderclan with a very serious enemy all because you couldn't handle the thought of Cloverheart's murderer dying as an old she-cat on her home territory and for no other reason. You didn't do it for justice. You did it because someone usurping your imagined authority over another clan bothered you. He lie down, still within a tail-length of Beechfang's body, content to wait. If she had even half the intellect that her predecessor did, she'd line us all up at the river bank and drown us all in a mass execution. And Falconmoon himself never thought highly of most clan leaders. They were all stupid, perfectly flawed in ways that he exploited over and over until he ruled over each and every one, and only the Stars' interference saved their sorry, stupid hides.
But we're done with that. Another thought seemed to crash into his original ones. We are done being that cat. He was a miserable, hateful beast and he was put down like the mad dog that he was. A feeling of acceptance was followed by a long sigh. His eyes went to Honeydew and he felt a twinge of pain like a physical wound. She'd never be the same either, not after this. She had so much light radiating off of her. He could only hope it hadn't just been snuffed out by Perchstar's foxdung of a crusade.
*** CLICK THE X'S BY THE NAMES OF THE CATS FOR CREATION TOPICS ***
downfive Former Staff
Characters : [R]owansong [Ro]okflight [S]ilverhawk [P]igeonpouce [F]ish [T]wilightkit Clan/Rank : [R] RiverClan T5 Elder [Ro] RiverClan T4 Warrior [S] ShadowClan T3 Warrior [P] T2 RiverClan Warrior [F] T2 Rogue [T] RiverClan Kit Number of posts : 2483 Gender : any or username Age : 22
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sat 24 Feb 2024 - 17:30
"Some days end when I need a few friends."
Birdstar SkyClan | she/her
From behind came paws suddenly drumming against her skull. Birdstar staggered, legs threatening to buckle with the momentum of claws snagging on her thin skin, and another enraged snarl tore out of her. They both urged her to call for a retreat, yet they continued to fight! They were the aggressors, marching on SkyClan with intent to kill--and they'd been successful! Were they all villains now, for even defending themselves? But Perchstar and Mottlestar would surely have any SkyClan warriors skinned for decoration if they even looked at the border with chagrin. Birdstar spat again and shook her ringing head. Curse RiverClan and ThunderClan--curse their addle-minded leaders and curse the medicine cat who'd been foolish enough to die here. Birdstar didn't care what life and love Cloverheart brought: she'd only known the molly as a vengeful ghost. Who in RiverClan would cry for Beechfang's death, for the love and knowledge and support she provided? They were all hypocrites! At least she knew that. But she was supposed to be the stupid one.
Birdstar took a shuddering step away from the battered tortoiseshell vying for her attention and regained her balance. Enough of it, at least: she heaved and rocked where she stood, clearly worn by the fight, but she'd swelled to bristling height again. Blood was draining into her eye now. No matter how hard she shook her head, she couldn't clear the lens faster than it filled again. It was no matter; she didn't need to see, not when Perchstar was so close already. Birdstar moved, lumbering forward on paws heavy with appetence. ThunderClan's leader was little more than a flicker in mind once her attention zeroed in again. Before she could jerk to reach that final closure, Perchstar suddenly spilled to the ground, as if exertion finally caught up to her. A single breath wracked out between Birdstar's teeth. She knew better--she knew better. And yet, she continued the slow drive closer. There was caution in her paws now, but if Perchstar had truly collapsed, then she could use the moment to exact her own justice.
In a flash of gray and white too fast, too sharp to understand in motion, Perchstar rose again, striking out wildly. The howl that answered her blows was echoing, stirred from a deep and primal place in the caverns of Birdstar's stomach. Most of the sound wasn't even born from the pain that blazed through her face, suddenly over-hot and leaking; nor the particular pain near her eyes, the sensation of rupturing and her head swimming. Her bellows rose from the very root of all her wrath, the very first ancestor who drew blood using Birdstar's voice to cry out. Birdstar wheeled backwards, tossing her head violently like she could throw the pain from her flesh. Another voice rose alongside her own, finding harmony with her discordant howls: Poppyshine, begging for a retreat. Then it came: a moment of stillness.
Birdstar felt the pause around her more than she truly perceived it--a shift in the air, a hitched breath rustling the fine fur lining her ears. The deputy's voice garnered the attention, pulling the war to a miraculous, brief halt. Birdstar's jaw fell open and with no further warning, she lunged for the direction the violent blows had come from. When fur brushed the sensitive edges of her whiskers, her maw closed with as much mechanical precision as rabid savagery. Soft, protective outer layers did nothing to prevent the incoming pressure of her teeth; neither did skin, musculature, tendonry, artery or vein; nor jostling weight slow her. All the little pieces popped, releasing air and fluids against and into her mouth. Hot blood was quick to glut Birdstar's hungry tongue, and her heartbeat stuttered as if she was the one being drained. It was relief that sent the next round of shivers through her limbs. She didn't care that she could hardly make out her opponent or that the screeches of war had grown to a crescendo again. Birdstar wrenched her head violently to the side, then again in the other direction, shaking like a dog with a hare: determined to break the bones and destroy the throat beyond recognition.
This is it, Perchstar. This is how your justice ends.
Birdstar used Killing Strike, dealing 30 (remaining HP) damage and costing 10 SP.
Last edited by downfive on Fri 22 Mar 2024 - 8:51; edited 1 time in total
Kitty Former Staff
Characters : Murkyriver ♀ | Mistwalker ♀ | Mintglade ♀ | Crakeburn ♀ | Snowvixen ♀ | Hollowpaw ♀ Clan/Rank : Riverclan | Skyclan | Windclan Number of posts : 4939 Gender : She/Her - ash was here :3 and Ro! Age : 21
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sat 24 Feb 2024 - 18:24
They say that you can die of a broken heart... Is it true, a love can run so deep? Like roots in the ground, that when ripped, Send you to that peaceful everlasting sleep? Only few have truly ever known the pain Where it seems that all is lost, little to gain Many live to tell the tale, while others do not. It seems nearly impossible to fall apart, But you can, in fact, die of a broken heart.
Truth be told, her gaze did not quite know where to focus as the three leaders found themselves in the midst of the throes of battle. Her memory surged back to their meeting at Fourtrees, organized on the new moon. A new moon that was supposed to mean new life, new beginnings, new hope. Instead, perhaps the shadow that blanketed the moon had been the stars turning a blind eye against the broken foundation that the alliance had been built upon. A symbol that should have been taken as a jinx as it meant there was no reason for the full force of the stars to be looking down upon them, to bless their paws in guidance. On the same paw, though, when had the stars ever truly cared? When did they actually look out for their Clans, aside to send soldiers and mouthpieces to war? Paw to paw, blow to blow, death to death?
Once, I would have called you ‘sister’… The chance to make you laugh, all I’d have ever wanted… The bitter thought surged to her mind as she regarded the Skyclan leader.
The coppery tang of blood stung her nose with every single inhale that she took. Every desperate gasp of her lungs in an attempt to fill them with air was met with pain. Pain, pain, and more pain, as while she had been blessed with the adrenaline-laced painkiller of the stars, it did not erase all of her wounds. Quick darts to avoid the flurry of blows and towering limbs did nothing to aid in the desperate attempts of her body to clot her wounds as she had been unable to seek the aid of any of the medicine cats on the field before they had to flee the field. Fawnshine had bestowed her blessing and utility upon the Riverclan deputy; an act that she did not feel to be for nothing in the slightest. Littlesplash had been forced to do the unspeakable for a medicine cat, especially for one so young, and Mottlestar could not help but regret the fact that she could not bring Sunfire down sooner, if only to be able to save him from that fate. She saw how it shattered the very souls of multiple cats on the field, and for just one second, she allowed that emotion to channel into her.
Mottlestar was no fool. She knew that her strength was failing her, and the blow that she had sustained in lieu of Nightdancer had cost her much of her energy. After Kitefire had given her the shove necessary to keep going, she had not waited long enough before charging once more into the throes of battle. Did not give herself the necessary time to allow her body to fully mend from the star-gift she was given, and was now paying that toll as she felt herself slowing.
You, who I would have called sister… how could you have come to hate me so? Is this what you wanted?”
Her heart lurched as she watched the silver and white pelt falter to the ground. The river empress, whose hackles never rose, whose rage never left her eyes. Entirely unfeeling on the surface, but the moment one plunged beneath her seemingly-calm surface, she was nothing but a tsunami of raging rapids. An utterly lethal force of destruction, who should not have hit the forest floor—
She about yowled out the leader’s name, but at the last moment, she surged forth as a singular crack in that forever-encased rage appeared. To say that it was a relief to the leader of bracken and roots was an understatement. She had not had the time to truly acknowledge the depth of what had happened to Vipershade, not as she had thrown herself to the defense of Nightdancer. There was something about the cats that held names blessed by the night that were forever there to curse her soul. Nightstalker. Nightdancer. To an extent even Murkyripple, her daughter who was safely back at Riverclan’s camp. If she would have seen the blur of flame-and-shadow amidst the ranks of the war patrol, she would have shred the very silver-tipped ears she was now more than thankful to see re-appearing.
Every single deflection that came by way of the Skyclan leader did little more than add more fuel to a fire that had been dying. Her maw had never curled in such a vengeful snarl, her heart had never held such hatred. Even with the faces of murderous that had passed within the ranks of her Clan, they had only ever been regarded with frustrated pity. Starlingflare’s scarred face came to mind, followed suit by the husk of who Darkspirit had once been. It did little to keep Trufflesnap from coming to her mind’s eye right after, as well, only to see the muddied image of Vipershade. He hardly counted for a murderer in her eyes; having fought to lead his Clan in the way that he led best. But she did not know all of the tales aside from those who felt slandered by his actions… was it no different here?
That did not matter as she looked at the scarlet-streaked fur of the leader before her. Though Mottlestar bore the blood of her enemies, and even much moreso the blood that came from her own veins, it did not hold the same meaning as that which stained the Skyclan leader’s body. For the tortoiseshell, it was the mark of the arbiter of justice. A herald who came to the field to deliver what it seemed that the stars could not. But for the Skyclan leader it was a target. A vibrant, stained target that marked her for all that she was. A traitor. A killer. A betrayer. A molly who held no allegiance in her heart but to her own selfish desires, scorning her clan into the dirt of the earth without so much as a blink. A progeny of Dawnhawk; much as the tom that had dared attack an innocent medicine cat was.
Then let my heart be hardened… and never mind how high the cost may grow.
She held no allegiance in her heart any longer towards who should have been her closest counterpart. For every tree, there was a set of roots that dug into the forest floor. She would uproot them. They would be thrust upwards, revoked from their ability to stay within the ground. It would not be tolerated. She would not tolerate this treachery to go on any longer—
The call of a familiar voice shrilled across the battlefield, and her own head had almost whipped in turn. It did not matter, for there was another action that had taken precedence. A keen warrior’s eye knew that any distraction was an opportunity, and the alarm struck true in her heart as she realized exactly what that meant from the tension that recoiled in the Skyclan leaders’ frame. Claws dug into the earth as she surged forward, and for once, her small stature had provided her an ultimate advantage. She thrust herself between the jaws of that feral beast in a panic, praying that she got there in time, hoping, because no-no no no, it was not her friend’s time yet, it was not fair to fall distracted, it couldn’t be—
Mottlestar shrieked. ”NOT MY PERCH!” Mottlestar 0 / 80 HP
It was not the first time in her multitude of lives that she had been met with deafening silence. This was the silence that crept in like an adder, striking at the most vulnerable part of one’s body and soul while it did absolutely nothing in way of relinquishing its death-grip. It was a silence that, somehow, grew louder the longer it stretched on, rather than quieter as one would have otherwise expected. Utter, utter silence, and total, complete stillness welcomed her. Her body did not move. She did not get to open her eyes. Nothing but darkness blanketed her in a sweet embrace of nothingness, and for the time, she was content to allow it to do so. After all, she had nothing left to give.
Part of her was waiting for that time the stars would finally come to collect its toll. One of her lives, exchanged for the ability to return to the forest. But she knew. She knew, deep down, that this would be a different story. Much of her wanted to fight it. All of her, actually, wanted to fight it. Mottlestar wasn’t given such a grace, though, as the darkness was replaced with a light so powerful it nearly seared her eyes, even through her tightly-shut eyelids. As if some ethereal force had sealed her fate, she was slammed into collages of the past. It was just like her leader ceremony, but not. One by one, her lives flashed before her eyes, their sensations once more returning to her. This time, it was each one being ripped away, each layer ripped as it funneled back into the greater web of the stars.
”Then I am also here to give you your first life. It isn’t one that you really need, but it is one that I want you to keep using, my dear. I am here to give you the life of love. You live and breathe every day knowing just how that love can uplift your clan, how everyone deserves a mother’s loving touch. As one yourself, I know you will use this life well.”
She had loved. She had loved with every single fiber of her being, every single life that she had been able to live through. Every step that she made was in the name of love, every breath she took. She loved Minnowfin, her first mate. The tom who had helped shape her to the leader she would be, whose death would crumble her and force her to face the strongest point of tumult in her life. It had spurred a chain of events in which she wasn’t entirely sure that Mottlestar herself could ever forgive Starclan for, or even herself. His passing, proceeded not long by the disappearance of both Stoatstar and Appledapple, all while the Dark Forest had sunk their claws into every area of the forest without so much as a second blink.
But even in his passing, there had been many gifts that he had bestowed upon to her. A lifetime in and of itself of companionship that she held close and dear to her heart at all times. Kits whose faces she would never forget. Mothkit, Mistlepaw, Mosspaw, Tigerpaw, and Morningsun, her eldest, and yet the litter that was the shortest-lived. Her small family, whose bodies had been buried at the Owl Tree, forever marked by the smooth stones and flowers that she had nestled to mark where they would rest to be remembered for all of time. Briarrose, Molepaw, Twilightpaw, Brightpaw, and Redsun. Only one of which now lived, and she wished she had something to dig her claws into at that thought. The idea of leaving living kin behind tore at her, especially when it came to the tom that had taken so long to earn his name. She was so glad to have given it to him, to see the pure joy that had radiated on his face…
The loss felt by the tortoiseshell reminded her of her greatest moment of weakness. It had followed directly after the loss of her beloved Minnowfin. Memories momentary interspersed the sensations of warmth turning to chilling ice as the evening came to her mind’s eye. They had both been faced with suddenly being thrust into positions that they were arguably nowhere near ready for, somehow finding themselves at the moonstone to become the progeny of Starclan’s blessing on the exact same evening. The ascension of a new leader was a rare enough event, to have two be forced to bear the mantle of nine lifetimes on the same evening was practically unheard of. Comfort within another who understood the fresh pain of invisible scars that had been branded into their pelts would have been impossible… if not for Vipershade. Newly-deemed Nightstar, at the time.
In her heart, he would forever be Nightstar. A tom who was ruthless, yes, but also one that had been scorned. She had never truly understood that emotion until the very end, right as she had become so fed up with the absolute abuse of her Clan by life’s persistent treacheries that she had no other choice but to radiate her scorn outward. It was the emotion she had marched into battle with, and a regret she would forever carry. Undoubtedly, she knew the tom likely would as well. It had been far too late that she had noticed him succumb to the tom she had so desperately wished to sink her own claws into.
Even then, there was still a gift he gad given her, too. Turtlepaw and Rosethorn, faces that had faded much too soon to life’s claws, had given so much life to the tortoiseshell leader. It was impossible to ignore just how much like her father Firefly was, no matter how much she had given her mother a heart attack when her very first move was to attempt to rip her sire’s throat out. She’d learned it was in retaliation for the fact that he had hurt her heart to the point of costing her a life… and something about that had made it impossible to punish Firefly. Her brother, Thrushnose, had somehow come out as the embodiment of herself, having a heart that was much too big for him in a world that was all too cruel. Every single day, he proved that he deserved the name of her late mentor. She wondered if he dared venture to Sunningrocks now that they had returned to visit his sister, Murkyriver. A molly that she desperately wished to have saved from the hurt that plagued her, her daughter that she felt she had failed in so many ways. Mottlestar hoped that her life in Riverclan was one that she wanted, and that she had found peace.
Though she had grieved that failing, the clarity had inevitably come to her at one point or another. It wasn’t just to her daughter of pure shadow and hidden flame that the river had beckoned. The small tortoiseshell had not been entirely immune to the siren song that it called, either, but for an entirely different reason. In fact, it was the very reason that she now found herself trapped in such a state. She had taken that blow for Perchstar, and in her heart, in her very soul, she knew that she would do it thousands of times over again. Would endure the pain of losing a life all for her, the companion that had born such similar features to Minnowfin, it was impossible to tell the two apart at certain gatherings. She had so much she had wanted to share with the Riverclan leader, had wanted to impart her gratitude for the token of allegiance that had been left atop those rocks.
Another cry was silenced from breaching the tortoiseshell’s maw as it struck her that she would never get to talk to Perchstar again. Her beloved Perchstar. Her Perch. Her Perch. Her Perchstar, Perchfall-- It didn’t take the blessing of the stars to allow her to see the way her saving act had cracked that impenetrable glacier that always protected her heart. Every part of her wanted to go down there, to tell her that it was Perchstar who deserved to keep on living. That the pain that undoubtedly engulfed the deepest corners of her mind could be soothed; and she desperately wished to be the one there to soothe it. But just as that affinity had begun to warm away the cold of loss, it was ripped away, slammed upon her with the crushing weight of nothingness. Somehow, that frost bit harsher than those ice blue eyes ever did, despite all that they hid. She understood why. It took strength to weather the storm of a broken heart; a strength that she wished no cat to ever have to endure.
"With this life, I give you mercy. I give you the ability to see past one's mistakes, and to show them compassion when others wouldn't. My clan and StarClan showed me mercy by not exiling me while I was alive, and for not forcing me out into the Dark Forest when I died. For that, I would die for anyone here a thousand times over."
Another memory searing through her vision, another realm of sensations that she had now been forced to relive. Part of her now absolutely scoffed at the idea of mercy. She had tried it, once, only to see how easily it was abused. A surge of desperation had shot itself through her entire body at the idea, but she knew it was simply the life once more being played in her body’s memory. Part of her had entertained the idea of allowing mercy for the wrongdoings that Skyclan had committed against them, but for every hope of mercy, she was met with the counterpoint that screamed justice.
Mottlestar hoped she had been a merciful leader to those amidst her clanmates. For what she knew, she did not rule with the iron paw that some leaders had been notorious for. Her Clan had trusted her, just as much as she had trusted them. Surely, it had been an extension of the love that she shared, but it had to be from mercy to some degree. The way that her claws had never itched to harm a single life in her Clan when several names came to the forefront of her mind that very well would. She simply hoped that she had done right by the tom that had bestowed upon her the life of Mercy, even if her final moments were spent as an arbiter of justice.
"Mottlerose, my name is Hazelpaw. I was an apprentice of ThunderClan, hailing from a time before the Righteous Few had struck down. I was a shadow of ThunderClan, one who never gave words to my pain until it became my end. So now, I give you the life of communication. Remember, sometimes the things you keep inside can hurt you the most."
Were it not for the lack of personal bond to the small apprentice, this was the life that had hurt her the most. As soon as it came to her mind, she would have broken into a sob were it not for the fact that the stars had entirely silenced her. Any reaction that she desired to make had been utterly paralyzed as the scenes played by, forced to do nothing but feel and think. It was painfully fitting for the situation that she had found herself in. A life of communication had been bestowed upon her; but the tortoiseshell had the feeling that this was the life that she had done the worst to honor. An apology filled her mind, and if she ever would be lucky enough to cross Hazelpaw’s path in the stars, she knew she would bow before the apprentice for not truly appreciating the gift.
So many words and apologies were left unsaid. The fact that she had never gotten to truly say goodbye to her deputy, or that she had not made the effort to stop by the elder’s den to check on her daughter. It would forever bother her that she had never spent more time with either of her sons, or made sure that Comfreyheart felt okay about being made to force in a war that she truly did not need to have a paw in. How could she be a send her dearest, closest kin into danger—to stare at the face of death without so much as a conversation? She had not even taken the time to wish Stormsong and Sleepycloud well for their new litter, for the new lives they had gifted Thunderclan with. She did not even have the time to tell Perchstar that one of her old clanmates had found solace within her ranks.
Each and every one of her deputies’ faces filled her mind, but she came to a sharp stall as the multiple colors of Fawnshine’s face crossed her mind’s eye. One of the dearest of all bonds that she still had. Her herald, her mouthpiece to the stars that had been forced to endure their silence and scorn for as long as she had been leader. For while every other Clan saw their stars-blessed confidants go and fade without another blink of the eye, she had been gifted with one who would outlast her. Always swift to spring to her command, to give her aid and friendship… Fawnshine had always understood the weight of responsibility as it had pressed her down. Echosong would be fit to follow in her paw-steps, so long as he had her sister-friend’s wisdom to guide and shape him until he was ready. She hadn’t even had the chance to thank Fawnshine for stepping in to save the Riverclan deputy, an act in which she firmly believed held nobility. For even Eggdrop did the tortoiseshell mourn not having had a closer bond with, despite the fact that she too, had been called to answer the stars’ call.
So many words left unspoken to so many clanmates. Curlyfluff’s grief left to be dealt with on his own, with Sweetheart’s viperous tongue to refute any attempt at progress. Silverdusk and Nightdancer, who had marched into war with her, but would leave her behind. Lichenwing, Sageroot, Wiggleworm… all warriors of nobility. All of the apprentices she would never get to guide, to gift with their warrior names, and all of the kits whom she would never meet.
”Mottlerose, the nine lives of a leader are an honor that only a few ever get to possess. It was through grit, determination, and love of your Clan that got you to where you are today, and not many can say that they have held as strong and steadfast as those who find themselves in your position. So, I present to you the life of dignity.”
Oh, irony. How it was utterly cruel. It had its moments of which it was useful, but in times like this, it was a mistress of nothing but evil and hurt. From the way the forest seemed keen on playing its cruel tricks upon her and her Clan time and time again, it felt as if irony was always available in droves. She had marched onto that battle field, unbeknown to her, as the leader who had the most lives remaining. Her collective tally of lifetimes to live and die through over and over again had surged beyond that of the other two generals of the field combined; only for them all to be ripped away first. She had been the first leader to answer the beckoning call of that death-bell on that field. She would be the first to heed its final summon this time, too.
Dignity had not seemed to treat her kindly during her time walking the forest. She had been forced to hold her head high, even as it seemed it was ripped away. As she had been atop the great rock during that one gathering, in which she had not even been due the dignity of having her mistake revealed in private confidence. It had been in front of every single cat at the gathering, spun to be a claw held against Nightstar’s throat. Yet, there was no mistaking the subtle bite that had then been placed right over her in turn. After all, it had taken two for such a lapse in judgement, and her payment had been great. Mottlestar being forced to yield one of her lives in that moment had stripped her of her dignity, had left her utterly vulnerable atop that rock for every single Clan cat to see.
Yet, there had been those there for her who had protected her dignity. Foremost had been the Riverclan leader, the molly of silver and white. The one that she had taken the blow for, and would gladly do so again. She had been there to block her from view, to kneel down and ensure the cats that needed to know of her status had been immediately informed. It was the betrayer who had come next, properly shielding her to allow the river empress to do the rest of her task in diligence. A shield. There would always be a sense of gratitude bestowed upon those that had been there to defend her in the moment her dignity was weakest… but she could not help but notice the irony that it was the one who had provided it who also had taken it away in her final hours.
”With this life, I give you the gift of resilience. Use it well to see your clan through the most difficult nights, and to keep to what you know to be true.”
Resilience was perhaps the only term for all she had endured. Over and over, storm after storm, heartbreak after death after destruction after devastation after violence—It seemed like it never stopped. In the tortoiseshell’s mind, there had been many a night in which she pondered whether she had turned into some bad luck charm for Thunderclan, a curse that had been the one to bring it all upon them. The intrusive thought constantly surrounded her that if she had simply fixed the issue, whatever it was, then Thunderclan would be able to catch a break. Yet, she always had to stay resilient. Unwavering through the losses of multitudes of clanmates, some of which she wondered if she would be greeted with in the stars. There were some that she knew would likely not be among their ranks, and yet, she felt her heart panging for them all the same. One by one, they came across her mind’s eye.
She hoped the younger lives were all afforded plentiful rest. Mere children, forced to endure the cruelest trick that life had to offer. She couldn’t help as that blue-furred Skyclan apprentice came to her mind, the terror that filled every inch of her voice as she had called out to her father to call off the patrol that ultimately led to a particularly vicious blow to her skull. Mottlestar would always bear the guilt of that day, but her heart would forever echo for the now-warrior. Bubblebeam, as her name had been revealed to her. Such a sweet name for such a sweet face. One who was undue the horrors of this forest… and one who she hoped to gift a life of resilience to.
"I come to give you the life of determination."
In an instant, the face of the molly that she had just met flashed before her eyes. It would be impossible for Mottlestar not to recognize the face of the russet warrior, to not feel the freshly-lingering pain that had come from that life being ripped away from her in the heat of battle. She hoped that Kitefire did not consider her life’s blessing to have been used in vain; praying that she had viewed her determination to keep on fighting as something worthwhile, rather than an utter waste.
From an outsider’s perspective, the tortoiseshell would have hardly blamed her if the moment she fully reached the stars, she would have been met with her once more. Whether it be in congratulations and praise as a martyr for the stars, or absolute fury for being so foolish as to not properly take the time and act with the calculation that was fitting of a feline in her station, she wouldn’t be able to tell until they released whatever hold it was that they had on her psyche.
”Have faith, not only in the stars above you to carry you through those hard times, but in yourself, in your Clan, and in those surrounding you. Your faith will still be there even when it feels like all else has failed. When you can rely on nothing or nobody, rely on your faith.”
What did she even believe in now? That was the first question that came to her mind. She had been blessed with the curse to live nine lifetimes over, to carry the burden of death a multitude of times that had only been possible for one who had been so foolish to put their entire lifetime into the stars. There was no denying the fact that she had been such a fool; she had been schooled and bred to take upon the mantle of the crown that rested heavy upon her heart. From the time of her apprenticeship she had noticed how it had taken its toll upon Stoatstar, had been the one to place herself at Minnowfin’s side as he had inherited the position much too soon. She had been in a similar position, always involved in leadership from the time of earning her name.
Yet, the stars had spared no mercy. They expected her to use the blessing for their Clans, to spread their propaganda, when they did little to truly defend their own. Her distaste had begun with the statements of the guide they had imparted to her. Did they even realize the fact that Pricklebush, the very tom that had been there to usher her throughout every loss of life, scorned them for the very stars they all occupied? That if they truly wished for a devout member to be the one that could properly convey their mission, that they had so utterly failed? It was impossible to not notice the misgivings of their ancestors as one lived through nine lifetimes over. Nine lifetimes, nine sentences, all for what?
She did not know anymore. If she would be blessed with a place amongst the stars for her noble deeds, she would accept trading her heavy mantle, scepter, and crown for that of the stars. After all, though she had been endowed to be first among her people, it was a shared secret amongst the leader that they were, in fact, the least. Their freedom had been given up to walk the perpetual death-sentence, as a death of theirs did not hold the same meaning as a clanmate. A leader would come back. They would come back from being bloodied and beaten, scorned and spat upon, so what did it matter? They had been crafted to deal with war, forced to forgive over, over, and over. How could she hold fast to the silver flame of faith when she had simply been blessed with celestial torture?
”I was never good at this, but compassion should have its limits. Know when you must put your clan ahead of others. Even yourself.”
His voice and face tore her from her thoughts and ire at her celestial overlords. The face of her firstborn who had sacrificed in faith, who had placed himself at the forefront of the judgment scales to act as an arbiter of justice in his own right. Would he be there for her? She did not realize just how much it still continued to disturb her. Would he come, even though their last words had been shared in hatred and heartbreak? Or did he leave her amongst the stars, fated to walk without him for eternity? She was unsure what fate would cause her more grief. Mottlestar had long accepted the ire that had rightfully been wielded her way for her impropriety. But, even then, she had not taken true consideration as to just what it would mean when she would eventually find herself amongst the ranks of the stars.
Was he proud of her? The fact that she had used his life of compassion to fight for those who most deserved it? That she had used it, much like him, to sacrifice herself for the better good of those she cared about, and the forest? Mottlestar knew that she did not have the fight in her to bring proper justice to those who still walked the forest like Perchstar did. It would be the glacier that could hone into a lethal point, not the soft rose that only could shred with thorns once provoked. Her petals were wilting; falling one by one; leaving little behind.
But there was still one life that whatever power controlled her state had refused to show to her. One final petal of her rose to fall, one final bell to toll.
”I give you this life for justice. Kindness is all well and good, but unfortunately, there are some who will take advantage of it. Love cannot solve every problem. Heck, even talking can’t solve everything. Some matters can only be fixed with tooth and claw. Some cats will never see reason.”
He’d hoped it wouldn’t be for a long time. She’d had moons longer, he thought. He’d hoped. But since when did the stars give him anything he wanted?
Unseen to any but her, a swirl of stars coalesced near Mottlestar’s form. It took the shape of a large tan-furred tomcat, nearly twice the size of the tortoiseshell body that seemed so much smaller lying on the ground in its pool of blood. Pointy ears, spiky fur, all the usual things that she was used to seeing--except that the narrow sage-green eyes bore a softness and a deep sense of loss that he’d never shown the living. All those close to him... all dead in such tragic ways. And now his favorite little leader, one of them.
It almost was worth a bark of laughter for how correct the tom was in such a rumination. She hadn’t even the time to realize the fact that the gridlock that her body had been placed into had been lifted from her limbs, and that the blinding light had faded into that of the battlefield once more. Instead, she had closed her eyes, left too far amused to truly understand and comprehend what had happened as her mind was left utterly distracted with the thought of the tom that had been there to walk aside her during the tumult. He had been there as her guide, as her adviser, as the one who had shown her the truth behind the star-studded curtain of their ancestors. It was because of him that she had the strength to commit to being the arbiter that she had been. Was he proud of her? Had she done right by him?
That question would be given its answer as the gentlest of sensations snapped the war-general from her ruminations. A flurry of surprised blinks conveyed the fact that she had not properly been prepared to once more be walking so close to the world of the living, to have been brought out of that stasis-like purgatory to face the reality that was now before her. All of the pain that had been thrust upon her tiny form had now ebbed away, and as she lifted her head, she could feel her attachments falling away. Could feel the warmth of life leaving her, the earth leeching it away for its own purposes. To see the tom now looming over her with such gentleness and emotion in his eyes only solidified the truth that she had not yet been ready to face, though the thought had crossed her mind time and time again. Lives did not flash before one’s eyes simply for a nightmare; lives were not forced to be felt again for the sake of it. The wildfire that had blazed in her gaze and pelt of amber strokes had died down, the darkness of the onyx pools that filled the space between becoming more pronounced as starlight slowly filled them.
Immediately, tears began sliding down her cheeks. They did not burn, not as they should have from all of the wounds that had been forced upon her apprentice-sized form. It had been a miracle and blessing that she was pulled away from experiencing every single agonizing moment of that death-blow, of her body being shaken back and forth like that of a ragdoll, like a savage canine snapping the body of an innocent. Even then, there was a singular question that she posed: ”It’s time, isn’t it?” Tears did not disrupt the cadence of her voice, though they disrupted the cadence of her breath. Breaths that would now be unnecessary, and simply only ever completed out of the subconscious habit that her body had become accustomed to.
”At least you went down with your claws out,” Pricklebush said gruffly, lashing his tail. His bristly words didn’t match the grieving expression he wore. Carefully he looked at the copious injuries and scars littering the unmoving corpse. ”You destroyed the tom who beat you earlier, fair and square. You went out for ThunderClan’s honor, and for your allies. There’s not much better than that. Certainly better than expiring in some elder’s nest. I’m real proud of you.” His eyes glared harder as they reached the stunned she-cat for whom Mottlestar had taken the blow. Standing there wide-eyed like a fool, he thought, though he knew the very feeling. The same look of disbelieving grief as when his own mother had buried herself in an avalanche of rocks to save all five Clans. Sympathy tasted sour on his tongue, so he spat it out. ”She’d better appreciate it, though. She wasn’t bad--much better than your poor excuse for a mate over there, I mean seriously? Him? He honestly looks like a decomposing rat and behaves even worse.” He gestured roughly with his tail to the corpse of Vipershade at the comment. “Anyway, she was better than him, but still every one of your lives is worth nine of hers. And I’m sure she’d agree. If she doesn’t avenge you then I’ll have a bone to pick with her when she joins us.”
His attempt to be as cranky as usual wasn’t working. Memories of the deaths that had shaken him would not leave him alone, even so far gone as they were--and this death was somehow affecting him, too. He ought to have been glad to spend more time with her. But it made his throat tighten, despite the long-expired wish to breathe. She shouldn’t have had to die. She shouldn’t have had to die--not like this. And certainly not at all. Not before her time. But there was nothing he could do. As always, the role of a medicine cat was to sit and observe the torture that those he loved went through. Pricklebush sighed and stepped forward, resting his thick-furred, incorporeal tail across Mottlestar’s shoulders. ”It’s time, kid. I’m sorry--you did all you could. You did great. You gave it your all, and by the stars, they’ll know it. But it’s time to go.”
She didn’t have it in her to stop him as he spoke about those beloved to her. From the mother’s perspective, from that of a tortoiseshell who had led every single life of hers with that of love, she knew where he came from. Even for a tom that resided amongst the stars, he was in denial of the finality that came with the scenario. Their last meeting had been him imparting the command of justice onto her, to not allow them to get away with what they had done. Did he know that it would culminate into this war? It wasn’t unlikely, given how he had foreseen her need to have the life granted to her all those moons ago. Part of her heart ached at the idea that she would still feel grief, even in the afterlife, but part of her felt comforted by it. That she would still remain some portion of her vitality, of the morality that tethered her to emotions. It warmed her heart that he felt so strongly about her wellbeing, about those that she had concerned herself with.
But then had come the confirmation. Though she had seen right through him, it did not release her of the blow it dealt when he concurred with her statement. Heavily, her head hung, the tears that had not stopped their cascade now glittering with starlight as they fell without restraint. She could not help the heaviness in her heart as she forced herself to her paws, thinking of her Clan, her children that she had sworn to defend and protect. She had sworn an oath of allegiance, too, to defend Perchstar. She had upheld it, up to her final breath. Surely—surely it would not be taken in vain. Viperfang, Nightstalker, Nightstar had given up his life for her command, though he had little time as one of the sentries beneath her banner. There would be no expectation of the molly of silver flame and glacial ice to fight for her helm, because she knew she did not need to bestow that expectation. It would be done.
He spared one last glance for the battle. For the impact that Mottlestar would leave behind. For those who lay on the ground and would get up... and for the three bodies that wouldn’t. What a terrible excuse for a medicine cat Beechfang had been. What a terrible excuse for a war. Pricklebush unsheathed his claws, lashing out ineffectively to cuff the head of the cat who’d murdered Mottlestar. It wouldn’t connect, of course, but it would make him feel better. And if Birdstar suddenly got a headache then he had plausible deniability. Sage-green eyes also found the resident medicine cat, Fawnshine, looking on in horror. At least poor Echosong hadn’t been here to see his leader slaughtered before his eyes. A blessing and a curse. ”I’m sorry, little leaf,” he whispered. ”But I can do nothing.”
Her ears had twitched in response to the nickname of little leaf. It was at that moment that it had donned upon her, perhaps in some afterlife-blessed moment of clarity. ”You have watched over Echosong all this time, too.” It should have been a question, but it came out as a statement. A statement that bore relief. They both had such tender hearts, and it forever would claw at her conscious that she had not had the time to properly collaborate with Thunderclan’s younger medicine cat. As a mouthpiece of the stars, she would have fully expected them to thrust a guide upon him that had been so thoroughly devout, one would have been surprised that any cats that did not believe walked in the forest. Instead, they had blessed him with what he needed: someone to show him the truth. Blinking away a new surge of tears, she released a sigh, allowing the heart-warmed smile to come and go at the revelation.
Their ghostly forms, that of the leader and the former medicine cat, were not alone atop the battlefield. Two more spirits sat apart to watch the proceedings--that of the murderer who’d caused this whole situation, and that of the drowned-rat-excuse-of-a-former-leader-and-even-worse-mate who’d at least done one redeeming thing in his life by taking a blow for the poor little RiverClan medicine cat, barely more than a sprout, who now stood hyperventilating and bleeding by the SkyClan medicine cat, bless her heart. None of them appeared to see the four ghosts who now stood before them. Pricklebush spared a glare for each. First his narrow sage-green eyes burned holes into Beechfang’s pelt, whether she chose to acknowledge him or not. To hate the position of medicine cat, he could understand, and he envied her the reposition to warrior... but to kill was inexcusable. Unforgivable. Why he’d been outvoted by those bleeding hearts to let her in to eternal rest he’d never know. Yet another reason to hate the stuffy old stars. There was no point in lambasting her, though, since she already knew her worthlessness, so he moved on. One more scowl he spared for Vipershade, though he thought that name ridiculous despite being more fitting. Nightstalker. Nightpaw, even. ”You were never good enough for her,” he told the tom frankly, lashing his spiky tail once. ”So you better stay away if you know what’s good for you. Hang out in the Mist with the other cats who lead their Clan to war for no reason other than to massage their own egos. Who knows--maybe one of them will be joining you soon.” One pointed glance was spared for Mottlestar’s murderer, the pathetic excuse for a SkyClan leader, and then he was done. Vitriol tired him these days.
It was almost ironic that the pair of former leader and former medicine cat had been mirrored in the duo that lingered not far away. Mottlestar and Pricklebush, the late Nightstar and Beechfang. It seemed that even in the afterlife, like called to like. Tumult and shadow had called to scorn and vengeance; just as justice had called to peace. This time around, she couldn’t keep herself from headbutting against the large tom’s shoulder as he spat his jealousy-tinged frustrations towards the tom that she had taken as her mate. ”You may very well be stuck in his company. For my sake, don’t claw his ears and get yourself send to the Mists.” What was supposed to be a jest came out as a hiccuped half-plea, disturbed by the gentle excuse of laughter that had panged from her in an attempt to lighten the tension that had come from the defensive medicine cat.
So long had it been since she was last defended, last been the one who was protected. After all, it was the expectation of a good leader that she would serve as the shield on the forefront. Her name had been sealed upon that roster of war before her meeting had ever been called to gather, and she would not have had it any other way. It was a change, to say the least, to see the tom twice her size so perturbed by the idea of her taking a lover that was anything less than absolute perfection. She didn’t have the heart to remind him that it seemed any love she yearned for was always ripped away in one style or another. But resignation for what was ahead of her had begun to settle in, even if it never stifled the liquid emotion that rolled down her newly-starred form. There were so many cats that she had wished to talk to, and she could not help the hiccup that came as that realization struck her.
She would not be there to guide Acornstem into leadership. Had failed her deputy in every single way she had tried not to do so, all because the wrongdoings of the forest had gotten to her and cracked her. She had never been able to say goodbye to those that she loved. She would not be there to see Stormsong and Sleepycloud’s kits rise to apprentices, would not be there to give Blazefang the send-off that she deserved after having given so much to her Clan. The loss was settling in, too fast, too quick, too much—
Pricklebush turned around and rested his muzzle on the top of the small tortoiseshell’s head. A gesture he’d shared before only with his sisters and medicine cat apprentices--the cats most important to him. A list that Mottlestar had joined. He did not know exactly when, but somehow, she had become one of his favorite cats. It grieved him that she’d died in such a manner. He’d tried to make light of it, but... there was no longer any point. He removed his muzzle and stepped back, regarding her carefully. It was his job to be her guide, and for once he would take such a job seriously. ”Come. There are some cats I would like you to meet... and I know there are several that are waiting to meet you.” He smiled, with very little bitterness--a strange expression on the always-grumpy tom’s face. ”What, you think I was the only one who wanted to lead you back? I had to beat up a few names that I won’t mention in order to get my turn. But I at least wanted to give you this last courtesy.” Too bad, Minnowfin. Should’ve been faster, huh? He turned then and, with a swish of his tail, stepped further into the sky. Towards the sun. Towards the stars. ”Let’s go, kid.”
Though tears still fell in the form of a starry rainfall from her face, there was a gentle smile that cracked onto her maw. The tears that now burned her eyes were the ones that such a queen could never shed, as it was only in the afterlife that they were finally loosened from the depths of her heart. Though she felt the cold of death, it was a flicker of warmth in her heart that the tom had fought to the forefront of the crowds to be the one to escort her to the land of eternal rest. A tug deep in her chest told her that her story was not fully over, and that she would still be a shepherd amongst the stars to serve her people, but her time upon the forest had come to conclusion. ”Let us not keep them waiting, then.” She rose to her paws, even as ethereal tears continued rolling down her face in a stream. Mottlestar had begun to follow the tom, but before she made it too far, something forced her to take a pause.
She could not make this plea in the forest tongue. There was no simple way, as she looked one final time amongst the forest, for the stars would not listen. They were who had blessed this war to go forth. They would not be the ones to save her people, they would not care for the ones that she now left behind. In a tongue that had come with crystal clarity to her in death, she spoke, turning her gaze directly towards the apex between sun and moon. O Gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die.
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sat 24 Feb 2024 - 20:28
There's no one who is strong enough to save your love... There's no fairytale.
This battle had gone on for so long. Several cats had lost their lives, including both her and the reason this war had started. Crying, screaming, most had faded to a gentle sob that was almost lost beneath the roaring of the river. Perchstar was doing her best to stay, to stand strong, though she felt how quickly her heart beat and how difficult it was to keep her breaths steady. Going straight back to the battle after recovering from a literal death was not as easy as she made it look, and she knew that Mottlestar would be feeling similarly tired--but the murderous light in Birdchaser's eyes was not to be ignored. She couldn't walk away now, as much as she wanted to. This couldn't be stopped. Meeting the amber eyes of her friend, she knew that she thought the same. Offering mercy had been ignored. Diplomacy had been trodden into the mud. Once the SkyClan leader lost consciousness, then she could properly take stock of the war. Personally apologize to Cindersky and Littlesplash and her poor deputy. Properly allow herself to feel the pent-up emotions crammed so tightly into her mind that nothing more could reach it. Nothing, that was, but a voice... a singular voice.
“Please, let us be done with this! Let us go our own paths and go home.”
Poppyshine. The voice that had more power over her than any other. Almost against her will, Perchstar stopped and turned, ice-blue eyes that kept back her exhaustion seeking the face of her deputy. At first the sound of the voice had filled her with alarm, remembering the shrieks of pain that had been yowled out when that SkyClan warrior threatened to kill her--but no, she seemed safe. The only other enemy left standing had been nearly defeated. It was, as she said, over. Magnetic, the words pulled her in, momentarily halting her battle-fogged adrenaline. The idea of the war being over, finally over, was all she wanted--so to hear it said by the voice that had accompanied her more than any other by this point... It took up all of her mind. All of her attention. She wanted it to be over. She wanted to give mercy, to walk away, to wash her paws of everything to do with this fiasco. She wanted... She wanted....
Perchstar's focus was entirely on Poppyshine, ice blue meeting desperate green, and so she did not see the fangs that drove lethally toward her throat. She did not see until it was too late, did not see, did not comprehend, did not hear until--
”NOT MY PERCH!”
Too slow, too slow, eternally too slow, she turned to see Birdchaser's malevolent eyes, glinting sharp fangs, a spray of blood--not her blood. Mottlestar's blood. The shriek became strangled, gurgling with the blood that suddenly clogged holes in her throat, and all that Perchstar could do was stare in belated disbelief and incomprehension and horror as her dear friend died in front of her. But Birdchaser did not stop with a clean bite. She tore, she ripped, she tossed the small tortoiseshell around in her jaws like a piece of fresh-kill, mangling her flesh and marring her fur permanently. Perchstar sat frozen in her shock and slowness as the cat she had once called her friend transformed beyond all recognition into a demon, a bloodstained terror from the Dark Forest, somehow scarier than the literal shades of death that had once haunted her camp. This was scarier because it was real. Because she had once looked into those eyes and seen them smile at her and believed it.
And now Mottlestar's body fell limp, hanging by a tenuous thread from the fangs that remained completely locked together around her mutilated jugular, after taking a blow meant for Perchstar. A blow meant for her. That was it. That could have been her. The sight, more violent than any she had seen before, made her want to vomit--but her own throat was so tight that not even air could escape.
But even as she beginning of shock wore off, even as she managed to force a single intake of breath, a sharp stab of hope reached her heart. Mottlestar had lives left, didn't she? She had more lives. She would wake up. Any minute now, that wound would heal. Those amber eyes would open. They would fill with the fire and light she knew so well, and the two of them would team up to end Birdchaser and end the war and it would be over. It would all be over. Any moment now. Surely. So why weren't the eyes opening? Why did the blood continue to leak, to pool all over the ground, sticky and crimson and flooding all over Perchstar's white paws as the corpse fell between them?
"Wake up." It was a whisper, barely audible, said mostly to herself than anything else. Then louder, more pleading. "Wake up." A demand now, harsh and loud, in the voice she only used to warn her Clanmates of danger. A voice only used to try and save the lives of those she truly cared for. "Wake up!" Now she bent down, nosed Mottlestar's limp and unmoving form. And all the while her brain spiraled down, down, into further incoherency. She had to wake up. She had to wake up. There was no way this was her last life, not when Perchstar had been in her position for far longer. There was no way that such a blow, however violent, would be enough to take multiple lives at once. This couldn't be over. Not when Perchstar had coerced her peace-loving friend into battle. Not when the alliance had come to its logical conclusion. Not when they were so close to victory and rest. But the body did not move. No light came back into the eyes, locked open and dull, staring upwards at a sky they could no longer see, up at the cat who she'd invited to be an ally and had repaid her with treachery and death. Perchstar's breaths grew shallower, more hyperventilating, and she shook the corpse with one paw even while her heart now knew it would not do any good. "Wake up, fox you!" But to no avail.
Mottlestar was dead. Forever. Permanently.
Dead at Perchstar's behest. Dead at Birdchaser's fangs.
And at that reminder, lost completely in the haze of grief that now consumed both heart and mind, enveloped completely in the dark and murky waters she had been carefully treading through this entire war, she looked up. Up into the unrepentant green eyes that had belittled her pain, that had refused her justice, and that now had taken her friend. The words that Mottlestar had spoken, the last words, now belatedly pierced into Perchstar's mind like a thorn and took hold and would not let go. "Her" Perch. "Beloved." Words she had never heard, words she would now never know the true meaning of, words that were beyond her comprehension as the ice surrounding her melted with a ferocity she had never truly known before. All the cold she had attempted to encase herself in shattered. It was gone, burning now in the flames that had threatened to consume her ever since that moment, but which now flared with reckless abandon in the face of death. In the face of death. Mottlestar was dead. Mottlestar was dead. And Perchstar now beheld her murderer.
From the throat that all had only ever heard speak quietly and calmly, that had never truly laughed nor been raised in jubilation, that had only been raised in times of great danger and even then with such evenness that it was simply a gentle change of volume, came a scream so long and loud that Perchstar was not even aware of emitting it. It was a wail, a shriek of love and loss and pain so great that it felt as if she had taken the very blow that now stained every inch of her white paws with scarlet. It started quiet and grew to a louder and louder pitch, ringing in her ears and for the first time since any of the cats present had been born, completely brought Perchstar out of control.
"GhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
And with that scream came such a blinding rage that Perchstar was no longer aware of her actions. She rushed forward with a vengeance, with a fury that turned her vision red. Claws outstretched, entire body honed into a lethal weapon, she leapt at Birdchaser. She launched into the demon, hurling her to the ground, and together they went tumbling across the forest floor. And still the screaming did not stop, not even for breath, or perhaps it did end at one point and the agonized yowl remained only in Perchstar's head. But with claws piercing into every inch of flesh they could reach, rending, tearing, a blaze of shredded fur, the two leaders finally reached a stop when the momentum ran out. And then with no delay, with no conscious thought or decision, fangs sunk deep into Birdchaser's throat.
This was not the same as when she had killed Beechfang with one bite, cleanly and concisely. This was pure and condensed wrath--sharpened by her self-loathing, heightened by the sting of grief seeping into her already-opened wounds, and by the image of her friend lying mangled and dead atop her paws that had not and now would never leave her eyes. It was not as ruthless as the death of Mottlestar, but Perchstar bit down hard, not flinching away from the blood that now rushed across her tongue, not even comprehending it as her entire body was still lost in the wail of permanent loss and sorrow. But fangs sunk deeper, deeper, driving into flesh and past fur and skin and every conceivable barrier.
Until finally she broke free, panting for breath, her rage-clouded eyes still fogged by the permanent after-image of her friend's corpse. Blinking hard did nothing to clear it. She could not move, she could not even sit down to rest without the fear of collapse, and so Perchstar stood above the she-cat she had once called a friend. Her paws stained crimson, by Mottlestar's life-blood. Her jaws dripping scarlet, the price of a life for a life. The end of the mercy that had been denied, and the justice that had taken its place and conquered its throne. She could not breathe, she could not think, she could not even see what lay beneath her as she stood, a mere shadow of herself lingering because when Mottlestar had died so had she. Of the three of them who had stood together and made a promise... Only one left standing. Only one truth prevailing over all.
~~PM me here or on Discord if you want a topic with any of my cats!~~ ~Wonderful Signature by Xaandiir!~
downfive Former Staff
Characters : [R]owansong [Ro]okflight [S]ilverhawk [P]igeonpouce [F]ish [T]wilightkit Clan/Rank : [R] RiverClan T5 Elder [Ro] RiverClan T4 Warrior [S] ShadowClan T3 Warrior [P] T2 RiverClan Warrior [F] T2 Rogue [T] RiverClan Kit Number of posts : 2483 Gender : any or username Age : 22
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sat 24 Feb 2024 - 22:17
"But always remain ultimately selfish."
Birdstar SkyClan | she/her
Everything happened so fast, so frighteningly fast. The body was in her jaws--Perchstar's body, she was sure of it--and distraught voices were welling up around her. Of course they were--she'd taken up the ultimate treason for herself. But when the vicious clamp of Birdstar's jaws loosened, releasing the small frame to spill messily across the ground, she realized through the blood-reek that the fur didn't smell of RiverClan. No oily fish scent, no lingering crispness of fresh water mixed with dank, stale mud... The pelt smelled instead of bracken; oak bark; leaf litter. Birdstar shook her head and stepped back, hind legs bowing dangerously under the request of bearing her weight. She still couldn't see--she couldn't see a thing. Panic fought through the rage and grief which had driven her act of violence, surfacing now in the hollow of her throat. Was there too much blood in her eyes, or did Perchstar catch the fragile organs on the ends of her wildly flashing claws? Birdstar reached up to paw at her own face, hoping to wipe the blood clean with her foreleg where she couldn't shake it off. The action only served to add spots to the haze fallen over her vision. Again, she wobbled a step back.
Belatedly, one of the many cries of protest registered in her ears. "NOT MY PERCH!!" Another aggressive shake that stirred her weightless jaw and made the wounds across her face sting. She couldn't clear sight nor remove truth from herself. Birdstar didn't know what energy she found to keep herself standing rather than letting her body sink to the blood-damp ground. Mottlestar had been by her flank--she couldn't have moved so fast as to take the blow, she couldn't have, not without--not without being seen, or felt, but Birdstar could not make out more than amorphous reddened silhouettes and she'd been expecting the relief of a body crashing into hers.
She'd lunged for Perchstar. For Perchstar--the only one she truly begrudged, despite her new ire for Mottlestar and her Clan. Her teeth were meant for one cat only. And it was that very voice which made her ears twitch forward: the softest whisper, but in tones unmistakable to her. A dull throb pulsed out from the base of Birdstar's skull, but she couldn't manage a wince over the new pain. Then repeated: "Wake up... Wake up!"
Birdstar shuffled. The panic in her throat spread its sticky wings to crowd the tracts of oxygen fully. Her breath hitched around the air squeezed out of her. What did Perchstar mean, wake up? Mottlestar was sure to have lives left. She would rise in a minute and continue her foolish assault. But why the desperation in Perchstar's voice? Why the wet shuffle of something being pushed against the ground-churned-muck? Mottlestar couldn't have been on her last life. She couldn't have been. She must have had many more to go through. It was one thing to take a leader's life--it was another entirely to take their last. And worse still, to take several at once; but surely her attack hadn't been so savage. It was just a bite and shake and yes, it'd been with destructive force and Mottlestar was so much smaller than her and she'd moved mindlessly in the throes of anguish...
The bile tumbling in her gut couldn't pump its way into Birdstar's tightened throat. Her head lifted, inclining toward the sound of Perchstar's breaking voice; her mounting cry. Never before had she heard a sound like that from the throat of her once-friend, never a sound even similar, even at the shallow depths she'd been able to broach. Paws set thrumming against the ground and while Birdstar's heart leapt, skittering in terror, she couldn't command her limbs to move away from the incoming attack. She could only conjure meaningless thoughts between the rising, falling pitches of keened agony and the impending leap. Even now, a rattling wheeze left her as weight crashed into her from the front, sending her rolling ears-over-tail. Clarity was expelled from her when her back hit the earth, shaking loose the fasteners in her head and emptying any residual oxygen. When they rolled far enough so she wasn't pressed flat to the earth, her mind offered the conclusive, I wish StarClan chose another to serve as your foe on her behalf.
Perchstar slashed wildly while they tumbled over the ground. Birdstar only offered the fight that momentum puppeteered her limbs into providing. She was too shocked by the tide this war had taken, too shocked with herself, to protect herself. The ferociousness was gone from her. Birdstar simply allowed herself to be savaged, complacent as gravity guided her into the path of destructive claws again and again.
Another heavy blow from the packed earth to her spine produced a hacked cough, and there they came to a stop, Perchstar's heavy paws grinding their slowing tumult to an abrupt halt. Birdstar groaned and moved her head blearily to face the dark and swimming figure above her. She could hear the panting, the stuttered and eager breaths she'd expressed herself just moments ago. Fear seized her again, yet she didn't struggle. She knew what came next: Perchstar would kill her for what she'd done. And Birdstar understood she deserved it--she was the only one who deserved this degree of vengeance. But it wasn't fair to Wolfblossom, who would be left with no siblings and a heavy mantle to assume on the heels of such violence, who let her sister go to war assuming she had more lives to spare. Birdstar wiggled, but the attempt was half-hearted at best. Would someone manage to carry her body home? Beechfang's? Would the Clan have bodies and graves to mourn, or would they be left with ideas--memories?
How would Rainfrost get on without her? That drove the greatest struggle into her limbs. However it ached to leave her sister, she knew Wolfblossom was capable. And of course, she knew Rainfrost was capable as well, but... Birdstar twisted, an effort in earnest this time, but Perchstar held her fast. She couldn't abandon her son. She couldn't die here, cradling the secret of her stolen lives on her final breaths. She had to return home for him, who was only just starting to do better--who'd already lost one mother, who'd lost his sister, who already had to endure more than any cat so young should. Rainfrost needed her or she needed him and Birdstar didn't know which it was. She didn't care, either. She had to--
Such thoughts passed only in moments. The air was already rushing around her. She felt the sharp teeth fix around her throat, heard the strangled noise her trachea made in protest of the intrusion, and the swimming world went entirely dark.
No starry fields heralded her. Birdstar expected it--it'd been custom so far. She would find herself in an imitation of someone's territory, or in some meaningless cobbling of land designed to provide comfort. She hoped for the woods, knowing it was Dovefrost who ought to be waiting for her; and when her eyes fluttered open, she was indeed guarded by the crowns of trees. But they were all thin-branched, naked with the strippings of leaf-bare, and her vision was crowded by far too many bodies to be a walk amongst StarClan. Ah--her vision. Birdstar blinked twice, shook her head, then took a slow look around. She lay on the field of battle, strewn across the ground as if she'd only settled down to rest. When she caught sight of her own paws, her billowing chest fur, she could see the pricks of stars beginning to enter the wisps of her fur.
For some reason, she couldn't manage to feel bitter. All that terror that'd flooded into her last moments had dissipated, released with the blood that spilled from her body's emptying throat. Birdstar released a breath, billowless in this liminal realm lacking temperature, and closed her eyes. Slowly, she pushed herself onto her paws, momentarily surprised at the steadiness she found in them.
She'd died--died. Permanently. As penance for doing worse to Mottlestar... as an act of justice. Birdstar scoffed and her tail lashed behind her. There was no point in asking what justice lie in blind, grief-fueled murder. She knew she wouldn't like the answer she found, and would only turn away from it so long as it continued to frustrate her. Opening her eyes again, she turned away from the sight of Perchstar panting over her corpse. She couldn't stand to face it. She couldn't risk looking up to see Mottlestar's spirit lingering nearby--though briefly, she glimpsed Nightstalker amongst the shades as she turned, feeling a jolt of alarm at seeing him. She hadn't noticed his death--was that grief she felt, for the troublesome tom? Birdstar banished the feeling and resumed her search for the one this had all been for. Beechfang must have been among them. She had to be; Birdstar couldn't stomach StarClan without her. She had angered the ancestors once; she could do worse, if they banished her mother to places unwalkable.
And there she was, lurking across the battlefield, her dense fur youthfully bright and star-swept. Birdstar moved over on heavy, stony paws, breaking into a brief gallop when they were within a few strides of each other to butt her head against Beechfang's. Her mouth opened around a plea, or maybe an apology, but no words came out. She just buried her head uselessly against Beechfang's cheek, and then down into her ruff until she was stooped low enough to dig into her chest, forcing their incorporeal bodies to mesh together in multiple acts of desperation.
Last edited by downfive on Fri 22 Mar 2024 - 8:52; edited 2 times in total
xaandiir Former Staff
Characters : [P]oppyshine; [Pi]neblossom; [W]hisperear; [C]rookedlight; [L]arkspring; [Wi]llowwisp Clan/Rank : RC T5 Deputy; SC T5; WC T5; SkC T5; RC T4; RC T4 Number of posts : 2953 Gender : Any Pronouns Age : 25
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sat 24 Feb 2024 - 22:55
Poppyshine
Poppyshine wasn’t sure if her cry for a ceasefire was registered by the leaders. There was a brief beat where it felt like everything went still, and Poppyshine foolishly believed for a fraction of a second that they would agree, pull back, and tend to their own. They would fetch their dead, gather their injured, and retreat back home, both sides defeated in their own way.
Then Birdstar lunged.
Poppyshine couldn’t have made a sound if she wanted to because it all went so fast. Perchstar’s eyes on her, and then Birdstar taking the opportunity to leap at her. She looked so vicious in that moment, more hateful and wild than even the SkyClan cat that Poppyshine faced earlier in this battle. There was no doubt to the murderous intent blazing behind those beautiful green eyes. Before her fangs could sink into Perchstar and claim another life, little Mottlestar leapt up and took it instead. She looked as small as a mouse in the maw of a cat as large as Birdstar. The shaking, the viciousness, the blood, the reek of death that instantly pierced the still air and shattered the stillness that Poppyshine’s cry for mercy had conjured up.
Mottlestar fell from Birdstar’s jaws unceremoniously and lay in a heap. A cold chill ran down Poppyshine’s spine. She had been present for multiple of Perchstar’s deaths, which is perhaps why she instantly identified there was something different in how Mottlestar laid there. There was an aching stillness; a distance to the body that Poppyshine could feel in her soul meant that Mottlestar would not be getting back up. Whether she had a final life to give or multiple had been claimed in such a violent attack, Poppyshine had no idea—but she understood that Mottlestar was gone. Perchstar did too, as she begged, commanded, for Mottlestar to get back up. She wouldn’t. Tears burned hot in Poppyshine’s eyes and the numbness of the poppy seeds penetrated deeper into her bones, leaving her dizzy and swaying on her paws.
Perchstar’s head snapped up and Poppyshine felt her heart hit the floor. “PERCH NO-!” she yelled with a couple steps towards her, but it was too late. Her call was drowned out by the scream of pure agony and grief from Perchstar, and then she lunged too. Birdstar’s own expression of violence was mirrored in Perchstar as she took down the larger leader. Poppyshine had never seen Perchstar in such a maniacal state. She fought not like a leader or even a cat; she fought like a rabid dog, like those wolves they had just faced a moon ago. Her claws tore against flesh and teeth bit and tore at Birdstar’s throat.
Poppyshine.
Birdstar.
Their bodies hit the ground and blood painted the sands and grass. Poppyshine felt the world tilt and she struggled to stay upright. Perchstar stood. Her white maw was painted in that same stark red. Birdstar lay on the ground, parallel to Mottlestar, and Poppyshine saw the same unending stillness in her. Something shattered in her chest and she tasted bile on the back of her throat. The smallest, most naive part of her, that had hoped that even after all of this horrendous violence, things could improve in some small way—that part of her flew away like a tiny bird, disappearing into the setting sun. Poppyshine knew all along that this would be doomed since the moment Perchstar spoke the word “war,” but it had turned out worse than she could have imagined.
Poppyshine slowly sunk to the ground, losing all of her energy from the herbs that Fawnshine had supplied her. Pain dug deep into her like Stormwatcher’s claws were piercing into her again. Beechfang, Vipershade, Mottlestar, Birdstar…more blood than RiverClan ever wanted.
Her gaze aimlessly drifted towards Perchstar who still stood rigid like she was made of ice. Wolfblossom’s words hissed loudly in her ears. “When innocents who had nothing to do with this die because of Perchstar's need for vengeance, blame Perchstar. Blame yourself. It will be nobody's fault but those who chose a path of violence rather than let old foxdung be laid to rest.”
Could she have done more? Should she have insisted, let the code of the leader’s word of law be cast aside? Was this her own fault for not fighting against Perchstar’s idea of war more?
Star. What a rotten deputy she was.
Poppyshine has fully disengaged from any battles. All energy for battle is depleted. All that is left is grief.
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sat 24 Feb 2024 - 23:19
For several moments, while squeals of outrage and horror and anguish echoed all around him, Sunfire sat silently, shoulders hunched, over top of Nightstar's body. His breathing was shallow, but steady, and though his head drooped towards the earth, he had managed to keep his eyes open. The old tom had stopped him from tearing the throat out of that little RiverClanner, and he'd paid for it with his life. A life for a life. Sunfire grunted, flicking his gaze sideways as several blurry shapes rushed past him, towards Littlesplash. Foxtrot and Thymelight, both aiding the RiverClan tom. Through the deafening pounding of his own heartbeat, and the ice that was creeping up his limbs, the tom couldn't muster the energy to be angry about it... but he wouldn't forget it, either.
In his dying moments, Nightstar had tried, fruitlessly, to remove Sunfire's paw from his throat, and one dark clawed paw was still snagged against the yellow tom's ankle. He stared at it, unblinking, and then shook it away, watching as Nightstar's foreleg flopped to the ground, limp. He'd killed him. They'd called him a murderer before, for what he'd done to Mottlestar. He'd made it true, when he knocked that little pest, Softpaw, against a rock. But he'd never felt like a killer... not until today. Not until now. Sunfire lifted and examined his gore-stained paw, watching rivulets of blood drip back down on to Nightstar's body.
A pawful of sand splattered against the top of his head, and Sunfire turned, eyes landing on and making note of the pelt of the silver warrior that had been fighting Honeydew. The golden she-cat was slung across their shoulders, now. He couldn't tell if she was breathing. Disinterested either way, the tom snapped his gaze back towards the only battle that hadn't yet come to an end - Perchstar, Mottlestar, and Birdstar, the two enemies viciously double teaming SkyClan's leader. Sunfire's lips rose in a snarl, and he attempted to rise to his feet, only to stagger sideways into the sand. His burning gaze swept the clearing, pinning every Skyclanner that was still standing, and not helping, with a seething look of bewilderment and anger. Why was no one helping her? Why was no one helping their leader?
The next series of events happened impossibly fast. Birdstar moved in for a vicious bite on Perchstar, and a dappled blur streaked towards her, intercepting the fatal blow. SkyClan's leader set her teeth in Mottlestar's throat and shook her like a rat... the little leader had proven herself tenacious, certainly, but there was no way she was getting up from that. Sunfire released the breath he'd been holding, watching as Perchstar begged her ally to rise in a nauseating display of weakness and grief.
Good riddance, pest. My only regret is it wasn't my fangs that dealt the blow.
It seemed over. And then Perchstar turned and lunged, closing her jaws on Birdstar's throat before she even realized what was happening. Sunfire's eyes widened, his mouth opening in a wordless gasp of shock. The two leaders tumbled to the ground, and only Perchstar rose, maw dripping blood. The yellow tom yowled, enraged, and attempted to force himself to his feet... but the battle had taken its toll, and his body failed him before he could take a single step. He crashed back to the ground beside Nightstar's corpse, eyelids snapping shut as darkness crashed over him like a wave. His last thought before unconsciousness took him, was how devastated his mother was going to be.
Tara
Characters : Falconmoon, Auburnrain, Sagefeather, Asmodeus Number of posts : 2987 Gender : Female; She/Her Age : 32
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sun 25 Feb 2024 - 1:05
The chaos unfolded as Falconmoon knew it would... well... mostly. He made no move to interfere and stared unblinkingly as the battle came to a close. Mottlestar died defending Perchstar, but he blinked once when she did not get back up. There was a surprise. Birdstar actually ended the life of the Thunderclan leader. "Hmm..." He watched coldly as Perchstar lamented over Mottlestar's body, causing Falconmoon's ear to flick as he watched. Drink in the pain of your mistake, you selfish fool. He thought to himself, still watching. When she whirled on Birdstar, unleashing a cry of pain as she did so, and across the ground they tumbled. Falconmoon rose to follow, confident that no one would stop him now.
He didn't have to go very far though, only about a fox length was necessary. Perchstar buried her fangs into Birdstar's throat, and yet Falconmoon did nothing. Let Perchstar dig herself a deeper hole. Let her experience the agony and the terror that only one who lived by vengeance could experience. What Falconmoon did not anticipate however... was Perchstar did not rise again. It was only then that his heart began to drum a little faster. "Oh... fox..." No. No he could not panic right now. Skyclan had no one to lead them. He just needed to get everyone home...
"Thymelight. Thymelight." He called out to her, hoping his voice would reach her through her emotional state. His voice refused to be ignored, but he was far from unkind. Once it looked like she was at least looking at him and listening, he began to speak calmly. "I need you to help me. Will you see who you can help regain consciousness so that we can begin the journey home? I know some may need to be carried. I'll carry who I can but..." He then turned his attention to Foxtrot. "I need you to please go to camp and gather the others. I can't carry everyone. Also... I need you to just say the battle is over and some warriors need help making it back to camp safely. Wolfblossom will take over after that... it may be best to wait to tell her what has happened to Birdstar until we are all back at camp if she doesn't come herself." He looked again at Thymelight. "I would maybe keep Sunfire unconscious for now however. I know what he has done was uncalled for, but Wolfblossom needs to be the one to decide what to do with him after she sorts out all of.... this." His voice was no more authoritative as it had any right to be, being the senior warrior in the group that was still conscious, but he made absolutely sure to display calm confidence and a soft understanding of everyone's emotional state right now. He conveyed that he knew he was asking a lot right now, but he could not do this alone.
He hoped Thymelight would busy herself with the tasks that he asked and Foxtrot would go to camp and bring back help. As for Perchstar... Falconmoon turned his gaze on her with a neutral expression. He let a few moments of silence pass before he began to speak to her. He approached, but his body language was non-threatening. He stopped a fox-length away from her, constantly reminding himself to keep calm in his head.
"Did you get what you came here for? Is this how you thought it would go? Revenge is a fool's game, Perchstar, and only the biggest fools seek to avenge a corpse." He paused and let that hang between them for a heartbeat. There was so much he wanted to say, but with the way things had turned out, Perchstar had received all of the punishment she was due for her selfishness and her actions. There was nothing left to be said, at least to her. Falconmoon looked at Birdstar and Mottlestar, muttered, "Starclan light your paths." and moved on to address Riverclan and Thunderclan.
"Perchstar has achieved her justice. Beechfang is dead. I can only hope that this will be the end of all of this, given how high the cost has become for all of our clans. A leader should be willing to take a personal loss on the chin to avoid future pain for their clan and themselves. Perchstar has failed you in that regard, both Riverclan and Thunderclan. She lost a friend. Thunderclan lost a leader. We lost a cat that, while there were plenty that were fond of her, was old and on her way to the elder's den within a few moons. For a cat that was on her way out anyway, was this all really worth it? For the Riverclanners who think it was not, perhaps the next question you should ask is, should you continue to accept Perchstar as your leader?"
There was doubt among Riverclan already, he was certain. Whether or not anyone here had the courage to speak out against her or do something about it remained to be seen.
"I'm not interested in telling you what to think. You can answer those questions on your own." Hopefully the next Riverclan leader... Poppyshine perhaps... would be better than her predecessor. How unfortunate for you that you are still alive Perchstar. You will now have to answer for what you have done, without a single friend to stand by you through it all. You're going to wish Mottlestar had not intervened before the next moon. Oddly, there was no emotion in his thoughts. This was just fact, and fact warranted no feelings to exist. If anyone had anything to say, Falconmoon would listen, though he might not respond. Emotions were high right now, and anything said when logic had no control may as well be hawk screeches.
His eyes went to the medicine cats next, his heart jumping when he recognized Fawnshine. He made absolutely certain no emotion crossed his face. "I will help where I can, now that this has ended. Medicine cats, what can I do to assist? I don't care which cat belongs to which clan right now. I will only go once my deputy tells me that I must."
*** CLICK THE X'S BY THE NAMES OF THE CATS FOR CREATION TOPICS ***
Arcana
Characters : [F]awnshine, [Fe]nnelbreeze, [T]hrushnose, [H]arrierpaw Number of posts : 1477 Gender : Gender fluid, She/They Age : 14
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sun 25 Feb 2024 - 2:40
Fawn shine
And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?
"So you were never a saint and I've loved in shades of wrong. We learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts."
Everything fell in a single moment of anguish and fury.
”NOT MY PERCH!”
Fawnshine whipped her head back towards the cry of Mottlestar, heart stopping for a split second at the sight of Birdstar's bite redirecting from Perchstar to the tortoiseshell molly's instead. Blood spewed in lethal wounds that she knew would only guarantee death—deafening, radio-silence screeching in her ears like static noises where nothing could be made out clearly.
Her whole world had stopped in that brief moment then.
No."No, no, no, no no no no no—" With stumbling paws she hurried to the falling figure of Mottlestar, catching her too late when too much damage had already been done.
"NO!"
Fawnshine fell to trembling legs as she nestled herself into Mottlestar's fur, ears pinned back so tightly against her head she could barely make up all the noises spinning around her. "Please.. Please, wake up!" She sobbed, unable to recover so soon from the fact that she was already gone. Just like that.
"You were, and always will be the dearest sister to me - whether by blood or simply fated connections. I don't - I just—I could care less of formalties right now. I just… please, StarClan, please…” She sobbed, stifling hiccuping tears in her throat and nestling her face deeper into their beloved leader’s fur, caring less for its blood-stained state. All the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve suffered and sacrificed in silence - the reckless abandon of determination and perseverance that made you, you; our beloved leader and once-deputy and warrior and apprentice and kit - the one that had stuck and stayed by my side despite everything.
And for once in her life, Fawnshine found herself wanting to reach out to StarClan more than ever; the desperation fuelling her and running deep inside her veins like an ever-dying wildfire that could not be put out. The desperation reached a certain point where, out of impulse, she was willing to forgive StarClan for abandoning her with this messed-up hope of a medicine cat just to bring Mottlestar back to life. Her beloved friend, the one whom she’d always considered a sister despite never admitting to it out loud.
She knew that desperate hopes and choked-up wishes between begging sobs never worked. StarClan spared mercy for their leaders, ‘blessing’ them with nine precious lives—but after that, what was left? They were no longer recoverable - left to be greeted by death like every other warrior. And such was the cruel fate of endless sacrifices that would forever live on in the memories of her, her clan, and the cats that once knew her.
…If, for once, she could just say the three words she’d always been wanting to whisper to the leader but had never found herself brave enough to admit to so - she would now.
“I love you,” Fawnshine's mind erupted in a scream, but her words emerged as a hushed whisper, as delicate as a feather drifting on the breeze. The words trembled and dissipated like particles of dust, scattered by cruel winds. “More than a sister, more than the care and trust a Medicine Cat ever could towards their leader.”
‘If-onlys’ and ‘what-ifs’ floated through her mind, relinquished with crushing anguish that made her whole body tremble with the pain of regret and guilt for not being able to have said it sooner; that only during the time of grief did her cowardice allow her to whisper those three words out now. That if only she’d been brave enough to…
“M-Mottle…”
She’d never let others see her stutter before—but for now, for once—she couldn’t care less of the consequences of what others would think of her after. Weak as she was, Fawnshine wanted to just simply curl up and allow herself to relax off all the tension that’d been left coiled up inside her thus far; the stress and pressure and duty on her and everyone else that followed by. Echosong and Acornstem - to their oblivion in anxious anticipation waiting back at camp; her heart clutched at the thought of having to bring the revelation of Mottlestar’s death to them. The pain, the sorrow, and bitter heartache that would instantaneously pass by—as well as the constant guilt and self-blaming… Her throat tightened, wanting to collapse in on itself.
Too much was left unsaid. With Mottlestar’s body curled into herself, warmth slowly fading from her raspy breaths—she knew what had happened. Mottlestar is gone. And as much pride as she would’ve liked to have, for having stuck by her side all throughout the battle and accompanying her as their clan’s medicine cat; Acornstem’s leadership, too soon, meant Mottlestar’s death. And one by one, as leaders fell and were inevitably bound to take consequences of their actions and either fled - or stubbornly watched; more would come to join in her grief of their leader’s death.
You should be stronger than this. You’re the Medicine Cat, after all. A duty one’s supposed to take on after being responsible for so long, you’re supposed to get used to it. And yet… And yet, she still couldn’t bring herself to accept and acknowledge the fact that she’s really, permanently gone. For high up and belonging with the stars, their beloved leader now lay.
Everything else happened in a flash. Watching as Perchstar yowled high above and came down crashing on Birdstar, vengeance and blinding rage guided fury to a strike where all lives were ended in one, single, crushing blow. Birdstar is dead. Justice has been served. Came bloodied from the crowd was a single SkyClanner whom she supposed she’d seen the face of before in the Gathering, but never quite caught the name of. The way he accusingly blamed everything on Perchstar made her blood boil. Perhaps she never understood, nor gotten as close to the molly as Mottlestar has—but if there was one thing she was sure of, it was Mottlestar’s decision to trust in her. And for that trust to be doubted to falter just because of some measly words from someone in SkyClan made her bite back a furious snarl.
She only regarded him with a cold, hard glare—one much like the frostbite of Leaf-bare itself—and her ears pulled back with as much barely-concealed odium as she offered towards the fallen corpse of SkyClan's leader. For now, she swallowed back bitterness for the sake of the safety of others around her, and herself. If she acted recklessly now, not only her life but countless others would be in further danger.
"Gather everyone who’s severely injured and bring them back to your respective camps. Do not try to prove yourself more mouse-brained fools and attempt to unsheathe your claws to battle again - only more blood will fall." Her tail lashed, whipping against the ground to scatter dust and earth into the air, her voice authoritative and clear - offering a gaze and tone almost mimicking of Mottlestar’s. So much so that she nearly shocked herself, if not for the need for urgency in their current situation.
"This battle is over."
And then, almost breathlessly - she regarded Perchstar with an abnormally kind gaze. A kind of stare where words weren't needed - where it'd be considered almost unnecessary with how much emotion a single look could provoke within one individual. Blinking back her tears in an attempt to stifle them from pouring out at Mottlestar's corpse out of the corner of her eye, she pressed her forehead against Perchstar's.
'I'm here for you. You can rely on me.'
Everything said and all messages delivered within two, short sentences that her gaze hoped to carry to the courageous leader in front of her - much like Mottlestar. And then, she silently pulled away, stepping back to analyze the battered state of everyone and everything else in view. All of this bloodshed… And for what? Swallowing the bitter hope of vengeance and regret, Fawnshine shook her head. Her energy had been depleted as well - all of it drained in left hoping to take their justice in battle. And while they'd achieved so, with the lives that had inevitably been sacrificed along the way... She couldn't help but feel numb.
"...As for Mottlestar, we shall take her back to camp to announce the news of her pas-..." She could not continue, so she left it unsaid; afraid she'd become too choked-up to talk. "...And get everyone to safety first. There, all who had been injured will be treated by Echosong and I."
She wished she had brought on more herbs. Still, it only stung more - being reminded that no matter how many more herbs she brought; Mottlestar's life was no longer recoverable. Prickling tears burned her eyes, and her lip quivered trying to bite them back. Fox-dung. I can't be crying now. Distracting herself from the sight of her clanmates, she whispered gentle inquiries to some about their injuries, and the rest comforting reassurances.
ft. Taylor Swift in — State of Grace then let myheart be hardened
Subject: Re: then let my heart be hardened [RC/TC vs SKC BATTLE TOPIC] Sun 25 Feb 2024 - 3:41
Forest Speak Feral Speak
Silverdusk knew it was coming, the moment the leaders had engaged one another, they felt certain not all were walking away, but the brutality of it all... That had not been predicted. Mottlestar's death had happened so fast, a flaming blur intercepting a blow intended for Perchstar. It happened so fast that they couldn't even tell Littlesplash to close your eyes. There was a sickening crunch that punctuated the connect of Birdstar's jaws to the tiny leader's neck. Then came the spray of blood and fur, Silverdusk feared the SkyClan filth was going to relieve their beloved leader of her head. Bile rose up, and tears threatened her green eyes, but Mottlestar will rise up again, she has to.
Several seconds past, long and arduous, dragging on and on. Mottlestar didn't even twitch, her chest didn't even begin to rise and fall as life returned to the matriarch. No, she remained cold and still. The silver warrior pulled away from Littlesplash, shakily taking two steps towards the fallen leader. "Get up." they whispered, voice hoarse. Silverdusk took another step, craning their neck forward. "Get up." Louder and echoed by Perchstar's own voice screaming a similar sentiment. "Please," they all but begged to the god of death. If the god of death was listening they did not care for her pleas, nor Perchstar's. The world seemed to narrow, and there was a buzzing in her ears, as tears began to fall again.
Silverdusk didn't cry. And yet today in moments of horror and utter exhaustion the emotions they kept on a tight leash welled up again, crashing over them in a wave of hatred, sorrow, anger, betrayal, love and regret. Green eyes drifted towards Honeydew, unsure more so now than ever before of how they felt towards her. Moments before she had felt empathy and compassion for the little warrior, but with the permanence of Mottlestar's final actions looming, their heart began to ice for all of SkyClan. It was hard to separate them from one another, when they seemed to all be murderers, it didn't matter if Honeydew knew it was wrong. There was principal to it all, and she was complacent. A vicious snarl rose up in their throat.
This war was not over. Not for them.
Their eyes returned to the battlefield with Perchstar's scream of loss, and hatred. The sound of the grey and white she-cat driving her fangs though Birdstar's neck was one of the most satisfying sounds the tall she-cat had ever heard. Though the moment was quickly ruined as the sounds of an annoying, gyrating voice grated against their ears, accompanied by an even worse smell. A low growl was drawn from Silverdusk, growing louder the longer he spoke, as he made comment after comment, snide remark after snide remark towards ThunderClan and RiverClan.
Was SkyClan asking to lose another warrior today?
With a lash of their tail they stalked towards the tom, who's pelt so closely resembled Honeydew's - another of her mentally incapacitated kin, Silverdusk assumed. They exhaled through their nose, staring down at him, green eyes cold and unflinching. "You are lucky that ThunderClan is merciful today!" they hissed, ears pinned back against their head "I saved your kin, and you cannot even find the decency to thank me?" a dry laugh, as they fought to contain the vengeful beast that begged to be unleashed upon Falconmoon. "Bodies not yet cold, cats injured and grieving, yet your first thought is to preach the propaganda of murderer's and thieves to us? There is no shame within SkyClan, no limit to how deep your sins run. Leave, but you are a fool to think this is over."
Snarl still etched onto their face, she headed towards Fawnshine, heeding the medicine cat's instuctions. Not a single glance was spared back towards the gathered filth behind them. Let them rot for all they cared. The fury in Silverdusk's gazed dulled as they crouched down by the fallen leader. "I'm sorry." their voice broke, it would never be enough. "I saved the SkyClanner, but I could not save you, our Mottle" The silver molly pressed her nose to Mottlestar's forehead, tears falling again and mixing with the blood of the leader. "Wherever you are," she whispered falling into the feral tongue "StarClan, or anywhere else, may Gekala light your path. Thank you, brave mottle." Silverdusk drew back, exhausted and feeling like a kit all over again as they mourned.
"I can carry her," they mewed quietly, afraid that SkyClan was listening, that even now they would seek to disrespect their beloved leader more "but, not like this. Please, can we clean her first? Allow Mottlestar to retain dignity in death as she did in life. I do not want our clanmates to see her like this, not Acornstem, not Firefly, not Echosong, not Quailprowler, not Crocusforst and Vinecrawler and Wiggleworm. Not Auburnpaw, and Sleepycloud and Stromsong... No one." Silverdusk squeezed their eyes shut, refusing to let another tear fall, but nothing helped. A sob escaped their body. "I'm so sorry, Fawnshine."
Tear-glossed eyes turned to Perchstar who stood unmoving, the wind buffeting her thick pelt. Alone. A sharp pang of sadness hit the tall she-cat as they stared at Perchstar. The SkyClan tom was wrong, so wrong. Part of them wanted to invite the RiverClan leader over, to grieve and mourn her friend with ThunderClan, but the empty nature of Perchstar's gaze and the stillness that befit her in her solitude and grief, it made Silverdusk pause. She closed their mouth, turning back to the clanmates in front of them, pushing the only leader that still stood to the back of her mind. Another time, she would speak with Perchstar, and thank her for everything. Though for all the pain and suffering Birdstar had brought down upon both clans a death so quick was not what she had deserved today.