Fading Into the Mist [semi-open]

ooc; this topic will be fully open after otterdance (maple) and a medicine cat have posted

It seemed that friendships often blossomed into something more within the forest. When it came to the toms and the she-cats, it was never rare to find a pair that blossomed into much more than simple acquaintances. Whether or not it was the doing of nature or StarClan above, very rarely did any exemptions exist. Temptations lured each and every one of them to continue to enjoy the company of whatever partner they had subconsciously chosen, which would only lead on to the continuation of life. The grip that the dark forest held upon the forest couldn’t stop this at all, as with Newleaf on the horizon, new life would be as well.

There was certainly an unlikely duo that had occurred within Riverclan. Otterdance was rather confident for such a young warrior, not holding back in the slightest with his bravado and enjoyment of being around the ladies. Mallowmist, the clever, curious mind, was admittedly extremely drawn to the attention. A glance her way, and she would be off of her paws swooning. Her white and silver-kissed pelt blended in with their current snowy forest, which often left her more hidden. Given she had yet to truly be able to see any other season than the harsh winter, the feline had been yearning to be noticed by others. Otterdance had given her that exact thing, and she found herself seeking his company more and more.

After the gathering, a lot had changed around the camp. A certain tension hung in the air at all moments of the day, with the night being an abyssal blanket that descended upon the forest. It felt colder than normal, lonelier. Morale was shown off much more as a fake mask for the sake of safety rather than an actual entity. Interactions seemed to take place in hushed whispers, rather than the bursts of activity that typically frequented the camp. The molly was no exception. Her typical reaction to life was quite vocal, always yearning to learn new information about the world around her. As of late, it seemed that interested voice had gone silent, instead opting for observation. Fear of asking the wrong questions had silenced her.

As a result of her select companionship, Mallowmist’s frame had slowly changed. Given that the lack of prey and more bellies to feed meant that food was much more scarce, one would assume that she would have gotten even thinner and more wiry than she already was. Yet, the opposite occurred. Her sides filled out, her stomach rounded. It was just enough to know that something was going on. Any warrior would recognize that she was expecting kits, yet, she still was rather slim. Given that she hadn’t yet reached the point of struggling to move, Mallowmist refused to move into the nursery. It put a target on her back, and would force her mind to focus on the tragedy occurring within their borders.

Despite all the gloom, the sun was high within the sky, and Mallowmist found herself resting under its rays. Memories of her time at Sunningrocks with Otterdance filled her mind, and the warmth of the memory brought even more warmth to her body. It was during that peace that something began to feel… off. A wariness settled down in her body that she had never felt before, and a slow, nagging kick at her stomach. Rolling onto her back in an attempt to dissuade it, it only sent a jolt of even stronger pain. There was an instinctual hint that hissed in the back of her mind, an alarm bell that was also sounding. 'The kits are not okay...'

Forcing herself to rise from her position, winces continued to wreck her body. As much as she wanted to brute-force her way to the medicine den, her body refused, with her legs ultimately forcing her back to the earth below. "O-Otterdance?" She called, hoping that the tom would be within camp. "Cloverheart? Ebonyhaze?" Her ears pinned back with pain, as a nauseous sensation gripped her lower half like a vice.

A gentle breeze ruffled Otterdance's fur as he walked slowly into camp, carrying a pair of squirrels that had admittedly seen better days. It was better than nothing, though. He dropped one off at the fresh-kill pile, picking the plumper of the two to bring to Mallowmist. While their circumstances were not... Ideal, to the tom, he couldn't complain. She was perfect in every way imaginable, and he found himself growing more and more attached to her the longer they stayed together. A smile began to form on his maw as he thought of the molly, beautiful pelt shining in the sun. He missed her when he was out patrolling; longed for her presence when they were apart. It wasn't something that the tom thought he'd ever genuinely feel, and despite the circumstances, the forest faced, he was happy that they'd be able to spend moons with each other- raise a family together.

Just as he was about to make his way toward their shared nest to offer her his catch of the day, she heard her scared, pained voice. Instantly, the squirrel hit the ground, and he was darting to the opposite side of camp and to her side, where she lay sprawled on the ground. "It... It can't possibly be time yet, can it? Mallowmist... Oh, Stars..." Otterdance moved in close to her, frantically looking around for the closest medicine cat. "Cloverheart! Come quickly, please! It's Mallowmist!" Even thought the molly had already called out for them, Otterdance didn't know what else to do. He gently nuzzled her shoulder, concern evident in his gaze. "It's gonna be alright, Mallow. You're gonna be okay. Just... Just hold tight. I'm here." He mewed, gently curling his fluffy tail around her to try and protect her from the cold. His heart raced as he waited, searching camp for any sign of the medicine cats.

The haze of noise breached Cloverheart's ears, an idle flick in their vague direction the only indication she had heard at all. Cats were always crying. Something horrible, something painful, something terrifying. Scuffles between her Clanmates and the shadowy warriors that occupied them, or a patrol gone wrong. She grimaced, lowering head to return to what brief moment of rest she could find.

But the strangled yowling choked out her name, and begrudingly, the medicine cat looked up. The scene unfolded in front of her, both too quickly for her to register and too slow to drive her to urgency.

Mallowmist, stretched out across the earth and recoiling into herself, pleading to air for someone to appear at her side. And Otterdance answered her call as quickly as he could, tripping over himself to stand by her. Cloverheart could make out the shape of his mouth moving; almost, she was certain he had called her name. Confusion crossed her features, but she pushed herself to her paws regardless, stepping away from the walls of camp.

"I'm here," she announced as she drew nearer, looking between them. Had Mallowmist always been–? No, of course not always. She knew she had seen the she-cat recently, belly swollen with the promise of new life. But how long had Mallowmist been like that? Was it time already? Had Otterdance always been the father?

Cloverheart just shook her head, brushing past the tom to crouch at Mallowmist's opposite side, nosing her shoulder gently. The medicine cat's stomach turned; she couldn't place it, but this didn't feel right. A shiver forced the fur along her spine to stand on end. "You're both so young," she murmured absently. Then her postured solidified, a rare look of composure and surety coming to her. "You're going to be alright, Mallowmist. You and your kits. Can you talk to me? Tell me what's wrong, maybe?" A beat, then she went on, not taking her eyes off the soon-to-be mother, "Otterdance, how many herbs do you know? If I asked you to fetch me chervil, could you do that? A stick, too? We'll start small." Despite her professionalism, her voice wavered with concern. Unease crept along the length of her spine, the distinct feeling of being out of her depth working itself into her heart.

Otterdance was the one that appeared first before her, and through her look of pain, a flash of relief surfaced to her eyes. A type of storm was brewing within her young body that was shaping up to be one she would have no ability to face on her own. While she wanted to let out a gentle purr of gratitude for the tom’s support beside her, all that came out was a heavy breath. It billowed its form into the air before her, and part of her almost didn’t even process the cold that was sinking into her body.

A slow-growing disconnect was gripping the warrior as nature continued its grip. An uncontrollable urge for her sides to clench took its place, her frame contracting and expanding in a rhythmic way to temporarily give sight to her ribs each time. It was all that she could focus on. Her ears rested flat against her head, her eyes squeezed shut. The molly didn’t even acknowledge the fact that her claws were cemented into the snow-hardened earth below. Doom riddled within her mind, a tornado slamming across each border. This isn’t right… This isn’t right… Haunting thoughts pulled any sense of reality just beyond her paws. It was as if her maternal instincts had been awoken by a metal beast from the Thunderpaths, alarm and fear creating a torrential ocean.

“...talk to me?” … “tell… wrong maybe?”

A ringing in her ears blotted out all but flecks of the words that Cloverheart flit towards her. Even as her attention attempted to zero in upon the medicine cat’s words, the static of her mental storm continued to blot out important bits. As she attempted to unhinge her jaw to respond, the complaints her bones unleashed from having been clenched so tightly yet again entered the overflow of sensory information going through her brain. A pained, almost unvocable wail came from the silver-tipped siamese. Too much, it’s too much pain… For a warrior with her intellect and dedication, it was almost demeaning to be in so much pain. To the point of being unable to truly communicate.

Fighting the synapses of her mind for control of her voice, Mallowmist attempted to get up to readjust. Nothing felt comfortable. Every move brought with it more pain, but staying still for too long also brought pain. “Something… it’s wrong…. So wrong…” She choked out. A fragileness never seen before in her voice delivered it to those around her, a trembling spreading across her body slowly becoming more and more visible. As her shivers grew, her consciousness seemed to lessen. It was a constant battle that she was silently suffering.

While the young warrior was losing her grip with the world around her, instinct was still taking over her body. Within the midst of all this turmoil, it had gotten the signal to attempt to save the life inside of her. The tipping point had been reached, and there would be a stronger chance for them to survive without relying upon her failing body. Her mind had shut down the pipeline of the extra pain that came along, and through the static of her brain she could barely process the kit that was left as a result. It was much smaller than it should have been, with its pelt a light resemblance to the father. Despite that, it was alive - the young kit had a fighting chance.

Not much could be said for the next three that followed. It was a depressing sight as the young molly was forced through the turmoil. A tsunami of pain, where she couldn’t even comprehend what was going on around her. Any sliver of attention to the real world around her, and the information that out of the four kits she presently had, only one was alive? It was as if her ears turned off as an attempt to protect her from further breaking. The heart of the molly was all that seemed to remain intact through the tumultuous time.

“I love you…”

It was all that she could force herself to say. Unawareness to the world around her continued, and slowly but surely, a cold, lonely, emptiness was overtaking her mind. She felt isolated, her consciousness pounding on the gateway to take care of her children. I need to be here for them…. My kits… Her voice cried in absolute devastation, but nobody would hear her. Tears, shivers, pain… That was all they would see. Her spirit was leaving, and all that would be left was her body to go through the motions. Quiet whimpers came from her body, but they were just that - whimpers.

Two more kits came, one alive, and one already beyond the stars. Four of the six had refrained from truly coming to the forest, as if they had known the impending doom that was bringing devastation to the clans. Two had chosen to fight, and the final one was just as frail looking as her sister. But a peculiar oddity was already visible from the tiny warrior, as beyond the white and tortoiseshell pelt that dappled the young, it was a bobbed tail that made her stand out beyond her siblings.

Mallowmist wept as she became an increasing prisoner of her own mind. Deep down, her spirit knew that she would be leaving her children before she would ever get to meet them. It was this realization surfacing to her spirit that she found herself shattered. All she saw and knew around her was emptiness - it clawed at her heart with much more ferocity than even Morningstar could execute. The pain that gripped her body carried on, ever flowing as a beast tearing at her belly.

Flashes of those she cared the deepest about flew before her. Tinypool, her mentor, who had sustained a fox bite to the back in her honor to keep her safe as an apprentice. The one who had taught her everything to know about the way of life she had dedicated herself to. Jaystar, who served as a stubborn figure to impress throughout her life, who answered every single one of her persistent questions, even when he was exhausted from duties. Perchfall, the deputy she had only met in passing, yet viewed with an immeasurable amount of respect. Otterdance, the cocky, confident tom, who had become a softer shell of himself in lieu of their companionship. She appreciated the tom’s company so deeply, as he had offered his love to her when she needed it the most. Her kits… who she would never know. The cold was penetrating deeper and deeper into her mind, as well as her body.

Denial gripped the molly’s spirit as she attempted to fight through the abyss before her. She needed to get to her children. Wherever she was stuck - it was as if swimming against the fastest currents of the river, but at the same time, gliding with the raging waters. Her ears pinned back as her blue gaze desperately searched for something - anything. Yet her senses were met with nothingness. An eternal nothingness, both absorbing every fiber of her being, yet forcing her to stay together.

“My babies… My dear babies… where are you?” She sobbed. It echoed far, far into the world around her, but was consumed at the same time. Mallowmist felt nothing but the pan of grief, but she refused to believe that was all. No StarClan had greeted her, so surely she was still alive, right? The cold around her… there was no way she had forsaken the Clans so heavily as to end up in the Dark Forest. After all, those creatures were within their homes. Surely, if she had fallen to that fate, she would be one of them. But yet… it hurt. It all hurt. No peace of the afterlife found Mallowmist as she continued fighting for something… anything beyond what gripped her.

Yet she would find nothing.

Mallowmist was a shattered spirit, fighting her way through a sea of nothingness. Desperately, with every ounce her spirit had in a sense of being, she needed to find her kits.

They wouldn’t be there.

Doomed to wander, the warrior’s spirit fell in defeat. Her head tilted back, and a loud cry echoed from her essence.

“I’m so sorry…”

With just a tiny fish as her catch, Tinypool returned to camp with her ears low, hoping to not disturb the Dark Forest cats that now guarded her camp. However, as soon as she put one paw on the camp, the invaders were the least of her worries. Cries of a familiar voice made her shiver and without a thought, she dropped her prey and rushed to where the sound came from. In the clearing of the camp, her eyes caught the sight of Cloverheart, the medicine cat, and Otterdance. But the noise didn't come from any of them, but the body curling on the ground. The snow around had turned red and fear struck the warrior's heart. No, no, no, no... NO! Tinypool was in denial, not believing what the most likely was.

But the painful truth was right in front of her. When the warrior reached the group, the sight of her former apprentice's sleeping body surrounded by blood and kits broke her. The dark she-cat knew what death was like but it was her first time witnessing it coming from loved ones. Her paws failed her and she let her body fall in the snow. Young and curious Mallowmist... her dear apprentice and friend... was gone. A painful yowl came out from the small she-cat and she cried, hiding her face on her back fur. "Oh Mallowmist... why did this happen to you...?" Her voice was a broken cry, barely audible. "I should have been here with you... I should have... done something..." But what could she do? Was there really any way she could have been saved? It didn't matter. Tinypool couldn't accept this was the fate Starclan had decided for her. She had so much to live for, so much to know about the world... so many more questions to ask about everything! And now... her former mentor would never be able to hear nor answer them. Life was taken from her too soon and unfairly.

The bobtailed kitten let out pitiful squeaks as she searched for warmth and food. It was really cold outside, she could tell that much, but she couldn’t find anything. Her little eyes were closed, not yet able to see.

She would never see her mother’s face.

The little kitten made more pathetic squeaks to find warmth. Surely someone could help, right?