WindClan's Deputy 4.0

ooc) Ashstar isn't technically dead yet, but for WC's sake we need to get a jump on this now. This thread is officially considered post Ashstar's death.


Carefully concealed within the brisk shade of the Tallrock, Brindlewhisker's cheek rested heavily against the unperturbed stone. The seemingly inescapable scent of death still stubbornly clung to the air around her, sufficiently suffocating any potential mouthfuls of fresh, clean air that she might of been able to gasp in. Tremors still wracked her spine fiercely that her limbs quaked as a result, the maelstrom of grief and fright only serving to strengthen said shivers. This was sheer madness, was it not? Ashstar went from seemingly healthy to dead within a mere sunrise, all but abandoning her to the lonesome burden of Leadership. Spasms of nausea twisted her gut sharply, making her chest and belly heave as though she might actually grow ill. Eyes sealing shut tightly, Brindlewhisker's face brushed tightly against the stone once more, futilely searching for a sense of comfort that would not be found. Every time she happened to blink, she only saw the limp body of her grandmother splayed out before her, which undoubtedly served as the main source of her strange illness.

”I do not... regret... choosing you. You... will be... a great... leader. Please, don't... ever…”

Ashstar's words drifted faintly between her ringing ears, making Brindlewhisker's eyes reluctantly open. How could Ashstar see potential in a cat so weak that they nearly keeled over at the sight of death? The soft, uneasy chatter of her Clanmate's voices chased away any lingering tendrils of her former Leader's voice, sending a fresh prick of grief tearing through her. She knew that her Clanmates were grappling with a similar storm of emotions, and yet she was the only one hiding. Her throat ached with the urge to wail aloud. How could she name a successor, now of all times? When she could hardly stand, let alone speak! The thought of facing her Clanmates was nearly as painful as the thought of witnessing Ashstar's death once more. Sharply inhaling an uneven breath that rattled hollowly within her aching chest, Brindlewhisker forced herself to retreat away from the safety of her hiding spot and up onto the smooth, well-worn surface of the Tallrock.

Paws shifting apprehensively, her unsheathed claws left shallow, even score-marks in the stone underpaw. Never before had she felt so uncomfortable standing atop the Tallrock. She still desperately felt like tucking her tail between her legs and hiding within the seclusion of a nearby den, but thankfully the more rational part of her brain still held a moderate amount of control over her body. It needed to be done now, or else she'd risk leaving the Clan vulnerable in more aspects than she felt comfortable with. Her own grief and personal fears could not be allowed to possibly endanger her Clan. As she nervously fidgeted, she couldn't help but wonder if she appeared as haggardly as she felt in this moment. Closing her eyes tightly, Brindlewhisker tried to quell the nervous quaver within her voice as she cried out the traditional summons.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey beneath the Tallrock for a Clan meeting!"

Hearing the new leader's call from up on TallRock, Smokepelt made his way to the front of the growing crowd where he sat down, his long tail resting atop his white paws as his eyes locked onto his granddaughter. He knew exactly what the gathering was for, seeing as though a very sad and tragic event had just recently struck the clan.

For the past couple of sunrises, the clan had been mourning their leader's death. It was especially hard for him to get over, seeing as though now both his father and mother were gone, but he knew that Ashstar would want him to keep looking forward and that's what he intended on doing.

Not having moved his gaze from Brindlewhisker and his ears perked forward, the warrior wondered who she would choose to take her place in being deputy. Whoever it was, he knew that she would choose a cat fit for the role and prayed to StarClan that who ever was chosen who also lead the clan well someday.

~~~~~

Sitting at the edge of the elder's den, Cedarfur watched as the clan gathered. WindClan had just lost Ashstar, the she-cat who led them through so much, and now, it was Brindlewhisker's turn to pass down the torch of deputyship onto some other cat. The elder's heart was still heavy and mourning, seeing that he'd just lost his sister-in-law. Now, he was the oldest cat in WindClan and while he physically wasn't what he used to be, he silently prayed to Ashstar that he would do everything in his power to protect and serve the clan, even if it was just sharing his wisdom.

Swiftstep padded out of the warrior's den. The ambiance around him was somber and heavy. The brown tom sat down with a small sigh. Ashstar's death hit the clan like a lightning strike. It was fast but painful. His heart was still heavy. He was the third cat to reach her side before she officially died. She was leader for many, many moons. This sort of change would affect many but he knew Smokepelt and Brindlewhisker would feel it the hardest. He couldn't even begin to imagine what they must be feeling. Brindle had a whole ton of responsibilities dumped on her shoulders in a matter of minutes. He directed a friendly smile to Smokepelt, whether he saw it or not. He looked around for his daughters, apprentices, mother, sibling, and former mentor. They were cats close to his heart. He couldn't even imagine losing them. Fernfeather's death had crushed his heart. He wouldn't eat for days after her death but he managed to bounce back on his paws, realizing that he had a huge family that would support him, his clan. They were something he had to put first. He hoped that Brindlewhisker's choice for a deputy would be good. Windclan deserved every best thing.

Brackenkit and Gorsekit were curled up by the nursery entrance, trying to nip and paw at each other without the queen watching them taking notice. They nudged and nosed each other with stifled giggles until they heard the call of a she-cat ringing throughout camp. They looked up at her quizzically, their kit-blue eyes wide and curious. Certainly they weren't old enough to catch their own prey, but if the annoying warriors by the camp entrance would let them leave, they'd surely have caught something by now. Brackenkit got one last nip in while Gorsekit was distracted, but they both straightened up and looked at the deputy once more after the queen gave them a fierce glare.

"Why's everyone so sad lookin'?" Brackenkit mewled. "Dunno, maybe they'll say something." Gorsekit huffed back.

Featherlight joined her Clanmates, looking up at her mother atop the Tallrock with worry and concern across her face. Brindlewhisker was the strongest cat she knew, and it hurt to see her looking... What was that expression? Was she afraid?

Oakkit had been sleeping when she'd heard the she-cat's yowl. The young tabby kit blinked the sleep out of her eyes and sat up. Her ears flicked back and forth and she let out a loud yawn. She wasn't old enough to catch her own prey yet, she knew that, but Oakkit was also rather curious. In her few moons of life she'd only heard Ashstar say that simple phrase. Why was another cat speaking? Where was Ashstar? What was going on? These questions buzzed around the small cats head.

Oakkit's ears pricked as she heard Brackenkit and Goarsekit speak. Her clan mates were sad? Why?
Was it to do with Ashstar? The small she-cat bounced after the other kits. "Guys! What's going on?" she mewed.

Jayflight gathered with the rest of his clan. Looking up at his mother, he knew as well as any cat why this meeting was being called. It was an exciting time for the new deputy, but also a sad one as the clan mourned the loss of its leader.

Padding out of the warriors' den, Acornpelt held a solemn expression but carried a heavy heart. Knowing that she'd have to get used to a different voice calling each meeting, a different pelt, and shape on the Tallrock each sunrise made her fur tingle with unease. What really set Acornpelt off was, what happened to Ashstar? Was it just her time? What sickness had struck her so deeply? Perhaps she would ask Featherlight or someone close to Ashstar later. 

Placing herself under the Tallrock, Acornpelt looked up at Brindlewhisker with content. Though she had always viewed Ashstar as a strong and independent leader, she had made an excellent choice consisting of the cat to lead her next Clan.

Despite all the sorrow that drifted around her Clanmates, the brown tabby's fur still tingled with excitement, wondering who the next deputy would be. Perhaps Swiftstep? He was a strong and loyal warrior with a fierce heart- plenty of mentoring experience, and a senior warrior. Acornpelt had seen him as the optimal decision, but whatever decision Brindlewhisker made was what she made- and it would be good.

It had been such a chilling, dark sight to see Ashstar die. Dovestream had been used to seeing the gray she-cat as the commander in chief of WindClan for her entire life, but now she was dead. It was such a scary thought... Ashstar was dead, like, dead as in never coming back. At least Dovestream was assured by the fact that the former WindClan leader had a rightful place in the respected, starry realm known as StarClan. Now, instead of looking up and seeing Ashstar on top of the Tallrock, Dovestream was graced with the presence of Brindlewhisker. The she-cat knew that the deputy was going through a very rough time. However, she also knew that her mother was going to do an amazing job at being the leader of WindClan, and Dovestream instantly made a promise to always be there for Brindlewhisker when she became Brindlestar.

Other than sadness, there was another emotion that seemed to lay over the crowd of WindClanners like a heavy blanket of Leafbare snow. Excitement. Perhaps even impatience. With Brindlewhisker moving up to the spot of leader, a new deputy would have to be chosen to help carry the weight of WindClan, and Dovestream couldn't help but wonder who it would be. She began to daydream. What if it was her? Wouldn't it be incredible if she was chosen to be the deputy of WindClan? A smug smirk suddenly appeared on her gray muzzle, but she managed to get rid of it. She couldn't act like she had gotten the spot before anything had been said, and if someone else was chosen, then she'd find it in her heart to be happy for them.

Dovestream trusted her mother to make the right choice when it came to the next deputy of WindClan, but there was also the smallest chance that the headstrong she-cat wouldn't agree with the choice.

Not a word had come from Gustpuddle since her grandmothers passing. She could only sit and watch from the back as Brindlewhisker scrambled up to the top of the Tallrock, inevitably choosing a deputy. Her heart was still thumping from the adrenaline that was just coursing through her veins, the pain still in her heart. But, for the first time since her kits were born, she felt absolutely nothing, it was as if she couldn't comprehend what had just happened. How, exactly, Ashstar went from being perfectly healthy to deaths bay in such a small amount of time escaped her, and she used every ounce of her existence to deny the fact that it had happened at all. She was happy to see Brindlewhisker able to call the meeting, that she was able to fight through the pain. After all, it was something she had to do, wasn't it? She knew, inside, that she was most definitely not going to be earning the place of Deputy, not after all that she'd done. How could StarClan possibly let that happen?


~~


Silentstrike, although he'd been out of camp when Ashstar had died, was devastated. Not only had he lost his Leader, but Quailfeather was going to be crushed. While Silentstrike had never really formed a bond with his Ashstar, she was Quailfeather's grandmother, and it was going to hit her hard. Of course, he hated to see her go as well, but it was going to be harder for his mate, for sure. His weary blue eyes scanned over the tired crowd of cats, seeking Quailfeather's sleek pelt in the mix. He wanted to make sure she was okay, it was his main concern.

Silverstreak walked out of the warrior's den with neutral expression. He didn't know how to feel then. Ashstar was dead but a new deputy was going to be named. He knew his mother would make the best choice for the clan.

While most cats in the clearing wore expressions of deep confusion, mourning or sadness, Laurelsong walked among them with a faint, knowing smile, the fire behind her chartreuse eyes flaring with excited anticipation.  Of course, she had been saddened by Ashstar's death along with the rest of the clan; the shock of it all had been able to put her out of sorts for a little while, but she had quickly recovered.  There was no time for unnecessary sobbing over something that couldn't be changed, it was time to move forward; and forward was just where the ambitious young she-cat expected to be heading.

Surely it must be me!  Brindlewhisker has seen my worth many times, the whole clan has!  I'm loyal, brave, strong, and more devoted than anyone else to benefiting WindClan and bringing it back to its former glory...any other choice would be idiotic.  Her prepared smirk lasting as she seated herself near the front of the crowd, she gazed up at the pale-coated former-deputy.  She seemed oddly weak but was trying to hide it.  In truth, Laurelsong didn't know Brindlewhisker all that much; they had spoken formally only a few times aside from patrols and useless small talk.  That didn't bother her much though, this was her time to rise!  She knew that this was probably going to be her only chance at the leadership she had dreamed of since she was a kit...she couldn't let it slip away.  It was her's, and as she straightened her shoulders and lifted her head in a noble way, a long-dormant blaze of furiously determined desire glowed in her eyes.  No one can steal this from me now.

Poppycloud padded out of the warriors' den, an anxious expression on her face. After Ashstar's death, everyone had been on edge. Now Brindlewhisker stood atop the Tallrock, looking more nervous than the white-and-ginger warrior had ever seen her. She took a seat among her Clanmates, eyes trained on the Deputy. Poppycloud was actually afraid for her - Ashstar's passing had affected Brindlewhisker more than anyone else, it seemed, and it was clearly visible on her face. She herself was struggling to deal with the fact, and Ashstar had been leader her whole life. It would be such a strange change to have Brindlewhisker leading the Clan.

She shook her head, clearing it of these thoughts. It would do her no good to question her Leader, only to be loyal to WindClan, as she always had been. Still, the former leader's absence brought her an uneasy feeling.

The carefully constructed exterior that Brindlewhisker had created throughout her seasons of life seemed mere heartbeats from crumbling like ash. Her throat felt so incredibly dry that every shallow breath felt painful, while every meager statement seemed to die miserably upon her tongue. What could she even say? How was she supposed to lead them, if she herself was still lost? Eyes drifting shut tightly for a painfully long heartbeat, the countless faces of her Clanmates, whose features were heavily shadowed with unease, permanently branded behind her lids.

Nostrils flaring sharply with each uneven breath inhaled, the occasional nauseated spasm still wracked her body. Even atop the Tallrock, several tail-lengths away from the ground, the sickening stench of death seemed to hover like a menacing cloud. The slight reprieve between Ashstar’s death and the current ceremony had felt like an agonizingly long lifetime, but it had given her a surprising amount of time to come to a decision. Chest rising and falling slowly, Brindlewhisker’s seemingly unseeing gaze finally reopened. ”A time of uncertainty has befallen us, WindClan. Ashstar is dead, SkyClan gleefully rewards murderers, and RiverClan has gotten so fat and idle that they believe the only adequate method of gathering herbs is thievery. We have more than enemies than allies, and we seem to be keen on angering our neighbors more with each passing sunrise. I am no fool, I understand that this is, undoubtedly, an inopportune time for a transition of Leadership.”

The slight tremors in Brindlewhisker’s voice died down with her words, the slightly harsh edge bleeding into a fierce resolve. Of the many things that she was unsure of, this was not one of them. She understood the severity of the situation that they were currently battling against. ”But I do not fear the future ahead of us, regardless of the inevitable difficulties that lay in wait. Our enemies greatest follies are not their vanity, arrogance, greed or ambition, but their decision to underestimate the strength of our Clan. I do not doubt the strength of my Clan, but I also understand that we must have an equally powerful Leadership to guide us into the oncoming moons.” Please, let this be right.

”I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice." Brindlewhisker’s head tilted skyward, pleading eyes searching for...something, anything, from her ancestors. "The new deputy of WindClan shall be Swiftstep.”

Grief hit the young kit like a ton of bricks. Ashstar was dead? No that couldn't be possible. Strong cats like Ashstar don't die. Oakkit's young mind refused to believe what her ears told her. Ashstar was always so strong and wise. Ashstar was the cat that watched over the whole clan. She was the one that made it all okay, but Ashstar was gone - and it most certainly wasn't okay for Oakkit. She couldn't understand it, good cats were suppose to live, this isn't how it works. Everything was so wrong.

The confused kit curled her tail around her small paws. She kneaded the moss beneath her in discomfort. She wanted Ashstar back. Her blue eyes peered out of the nursery and then she understood why everyone was so solemn. They knew Ashstar was dead, but they didn't tell her. Oakkit's claws kneaded deeper into the moss. I should of known! Ashstar was my leader too! Why does everyone keep stuff from me? I wouldn't tell anyone, I mean, I barely know anyone. I'm a good cat.

Oakkit's ears flattened against her head and she closed her eyes, she wanted to go to sleep. The tabby she-cat blinked and focused back on Brindlewhisker's words. This bit was exciting for the kit, A new deputy! Oakkit wondered who it could be, names of the few cats she knew bumped around in her head. She hoped it was one of them.

To the young cat's surprise it was some cat called Swiftstep. Who he was she didn't know, the only ones she knew were the queens, kits and Ashstar. Oakkit's blue eyes raked the crowd of cats gathered beneath the rock. Which one is Swiftstep? I hope he is a good cat.