silence from a distant star (c)

Time had long since ceased to have any meaning. StarClan was very different from the WindClan she had known when she lived-- there were few, if any, changes to distinguish between moon to moon. The leaders were often embroiled in some worry or another, but the bulk of the warriors in StarClan had nothing to do with such troubles. They lived on the endless starry plains, hunting more for fun than for any actual hunger, and spending time with friends and loved ones... of which she had plenty.

Quailfeather had sisters, brothers, cousins, nieces and nephews galore. She often spent time with Ashstar and Brindlestar; Smokepelt and Cedarfur; Gustpuddle and Willowwhisker. However, there was nobody whose company she enjoyed more than that of her beloved mate, Silentstrike. As inseparable as they were in life, they had not been separated in death. During the great flood, the rushing waters had embraced both of them, surrounding them in the elders' den where they lay, accepting their fate. It was a better end than old age, anyway. She had been getting tired of lying around with a broken leg and scarred body, simply staving off the inevitable end. StarClan was far better than being an elder... but stars if she didn't miss being alive, sometimes. She missed WindClan territory, running with the breeze in her fur, hunting with her Clanmates, and fighting to protect the borders. The few times that StarClan cats had gone down to fight, she hadn't been allowed to go. It would've been fun to fight the Dark Forest, to go out in a blaze of glory... but she'd been stopped by the reminder of her mate. Who would keep him company, with her gone?

Still, despite the relative paradise they lived in, Quailfeather couldn't help but get restless sometimes. It was simply in her personality. She had so much passion, so much strength-- and here, what was there to do with it? Nothing. There were no enemies to fight, no competition. It was peaceful. It was boring. Her thin gray tail flicked in annoyance. As she walked alongside the stretching, dewy plains with Silentstrike, she found herself complaining once more. "I wish I'd been alive to fight the Dark Forest," she grumbled off-handedly. "I would've shown them a thing or two. Those pieces of fox-dung wouldn't have stepped foot inside WindClan territory if they'd tried that when I was in my prime." Of course, it was easy for her to say that. She knew she likely might have been just as useless as the living warriors had been. But still... it was a nice thought.

The only difference between Silenstrike in life and Silentstrike now was, truthfully, that he had grown to love not having to watch after himself and his loved ones as if they might be lost at any moment. Their fragility was a thing of the past, and he rather enjoyed the worry-free, less stressful environment. Sure, in life there were invaluable things that he couldn’t deny he missed… But the peace of mind he had knowing his loved ones were safe was unmatched. This was something that crossed his mind frequently, as it did now while he was walking the starlit moors with his mate.

At the sound of her grumbling, he lifted his gaze to meet her own, directly across from him. Their pelts were practically pressed together as they walked- if not because she wanted it, because he did. He let out a small out in response, continuing his steady pace. ”I’d be inclined to agree with you, however, I’m afraid you’d send them running so far it’d upset the very balance of the stars themselves.” Silentstrike had always been more peaceful and diplomatic where possible. It didn’t stop him from fighting- and fiercely, at that- whenever it was necessary, though. ”I am simply thankful that our time was peaceful enough not to warrant such battles. Our enemies were mostly natural, or of our own making. Nothing as vile as what our successors have faced. No, I’m thankful for simpler times during our prime. I only wish there was more we could do to protect them now.” He lamented, biting the tip of his tongue in a hint of frustration. It was hard to watch from above, knowing there was very little to be done.