What Comes Next [Is Never Easy] EP 2023 ...closed...

Today was the second hardest choice she had ever made. All those moons ago had been the first.

The night they met up at the river and escaped into the worlds beyond. If Sleepycloud closed her eyes for a moment, she could see the bright full moon and the stars it had outshined. It felt like StarClan was turning a blind eye to their escape. It emboldened her enough to press forward and leave the forest for what she thought was for good. Her home, her family, and her friends were all behind. Gathering at the Fourtrees, assuming she was keeping watch at their camp. But instead, she left, certain to clean her scent off in the river in case any cat came looking. In a way, she had felt awful for leaving them behind. But the warrior code did not permit her to be with the cat she loved. Perhaps it had been better to sneak away, not break their hearts further by her betrayal of the code. Sleepycloud had seen what had become of the clan's trust in her father after her birth. Why would she let herself suffer in a system where she was not to love another?

They left together and experienced the world beyond for better or for worse. While it wasn't as easy as being in a clan, each day with Stormsong made her certain of her choice. With that, she was certain of her fate, even if it meant a life of hardship. It seemed her companions were certain that ThunderClan would welcome them back. Anxiety wracked Sleepycloud for moons as they weighed their options. Continue to live a hard life outside of the forest? Or return to the scrutiny of the other clans? But this time under the same clan as the cat she loved so dearly. Thistlemask, too, had joined them and offered kindness and protection. For that, Sleepycloud would forever consider her a friend and a cat she could count on in her time of need.

Which left today. The second hardest choice.

Sleepycloud stood in the unfamiliar territory of ThunderClan. Her fluffy tail skirted low on the ground, flicking occasionally as she tasted the air. Would they be welcomed back? Or chased out? She nudged Stormsong forward. He knew the way to camp, after all.

The member 'Splotch' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Invasion Dice' :

The soft rustle of trees arcing high above her ear tips allowed for her first rush of true and deep terror, standing back on clan territory - her home's territory for the first time in moons. The forest and its surrounding territories had warmed back up, teeming with humidity and seemingly endless bouts of rain, and by the time of the trio's return, it was evident that Leaf-fall was on the horizon; something that only existed to trouble her further. For a moment, thoughts spun wildly of the life Thistlemask once lead here, and the one before that, threatening to consume her.

If she was to be completely sincere, with no long pauses of silence to deter or ignore the topic for the preservation of her sanity or image, the overconsumption of her mind over her body was why she left. The warrior had no longer been able to perform her duties as deputy, as Mottlestar's second in command and one of her only chosen kin to be around, shattered by the inability to fight off the dark thoughts that marred every corner and divot of her head. It had left her bedridden more often than not, hardly able to find the strength or care to eat. And she knew it tore her sister up inside, but Thistlemask was uncomfortably aware of the burden she had become with the failure of all she once did, and the molly was also far too familiar with the way Mottlestar was visibly carrying burdens too heavy for one all on her own.

It was not a difficult decision to leave shortly after. For a time, regret almost lead her back, but she was no fool. No cat of her lineage should have fallen this hard in a battle against a non-tangible foe. But as more space was found between herself and the forest, there was no denying the way warmth curled itself around her, allowing her to experience a happiness that had not existed within herself since she was a kit. As she had trudged on, a moderately familiar scent had piqued her interest, and within a few sunrises she had found Stormsong, and his presumable mate Sleepycloud. The reunion had initially felt a little... odd, to her, but she had a sinking feeling that the duo wouldn't be the most likely to survive on their own. With an unnameable feeling, Thistlemask had tagged along for a little with the intention of eventually splitting, but now moons later found herself lagging behind the pair, heart thumping in her chest.

mfw you waited so long to rp again but then you gave bg3 a fair shot and then hyperfixated on the game and suddenly nothing else in life matters anymore except maybe breathing. i will add color when i am not mobile kekw

They had spent too long beung outsiders. Stormsong's steps felt heavy with every step, keeping a sharp eye out for early signs of Leaf-fall and taking his time to avoid the slightest crunch of a leaf or snap of a twig — anything that might have given away their position too early. Call it paranoia, perhaps. When they left the clan behind, there was always air of tolerance for strangers... but code-breakers and deserters? It would be easy to any hostility they might have toward him or Thistlemask.

What would they say? How had his mother been all this time? Mottlestar had suffered so much before they left and he had remained torn over the grief he had left her...But — it wasn't as if they had not left without good reason, none of them did. The silver tabby glanced at Thistlemask, wondering what was on the she-cat's mind, though he would wager they weren't far off from his own. She tormented herself day and night over her rogue blood and all the trouble that it wrought, but if time had proved anything now, it was that even if they could survive... They were never meant to be loners. None of them were.

Stormsong let out a small sigh as his mate nudged him ahead. "If all goes well tonight," he spoke with the quietest purr. "We should go hunting at Sunningrocks." He brushed his cheek against hers and cast a short glance at her belly. "When was the last time we had fish?"

As he led them deeper into the woods, Thistlemask might have caught onto him avoiding the main paths along the borders, choosing the longer - but quieter route.

Call it selfishness, because it certainly was, but the leader had elected to take a patrol on her own. Grief still pattered at the walls of her heart with the fact that she had just allowed her daughter to leave her clan, her home, because she could not console her. Thoughts of failure pelted at her mind with sharp claws, digging and scraping their malevolent thoughts with no ability on her end to stop them.

How could she truly hold herself up if she failed one of her most core duties? Beyond being Thunderclan's leader, she was a mother. Leadership could be passed on, and her Clan would continue to live. It was simply how it worked-that was a title that never stuck with one cat for too long. But 'mom?' She would always be that for her kits. Already, she had failed so many. Morningsun's scorn when she had lost her first life was forever burned into her memory, haunting her dreams on those too-restless nights. Mothkit had hardly made it into this world, and Mistlepaw had been left with such strong illness that it inevitably claimed her. Mosspaw didn't make it very long, either. Tigerpaw, Molepaw, Twilightpaw, and Brightpaw... More of her kits, who she all had failed. It was only Redpaw and Briarrose who remained of her kits with Minnowfin, and she couldn't help but nearly cry every time she saw them. They reminded her so much of the two-toned tom, and she didn't know if she'd ever get over his passing.

Not to mention, there were the family she had adopted into her circle. Comfreyheart was practically a blood-daughter to her in all but actually being tied to her by blood. Fawnshine may as well have been a sister to her with how close they were and worked, and in one way or another, she had adopted most of her clanmates.

It made her ache for those she hadn't seen. Thistlemask was the first to come to mind. Her first deputy, a molly with such a firey spirit that it made her the perfect reflection to her own. Even if her half-brother had been called to fill her pawsteps, there was... truly no cat that could have replaced Thistlemask in Mottlestar's life. Acornstem was certainly thriving as her deputy, and she knew that the stars would approve of her choice. There was no doubt in her mind that the cat who would take her place was going to be Acornstem, and she would support the loving warrior until she had no possible way to do so. But Thistlemask... Just like a first love, there was no cat to replace her.

Stormsong was another cat that came to mind. Her apprentice, who had a pelt of a speckled sky. He'd been another cat she had taken more than just under her wing: he'd made his way into her heart. His disappearance had confused her, but in the midst of the storm that was happening to Thunderclan? She simply hadn't the resources to go looking for him. Guilt on that front had consumed her for moons. The guilt always did.

Her attention piqued as a strange scent caught the edge of her senses. It wasn't of another Clan-no, this was something... other. Deeply familiar, as if she should have recognized a part of it. Immediately, the tortoiseshell went on alert. Gone were her thoughts and recollections of those she had failed, and instead, she shifted into that regalia of a leader. Of a general and defender, who would protect her clanmates with every tooth and claw that she had.

"Trespassers are not welcome on Thunderclan territory," Her yowl rang in warning as she approached. If it was just some loner, hopefully they would turn around. But something told her there was more than one...

She stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight of them. Fur patterns that she would know from anywhere, could pick from any crowd.

"...Stars... Is... Are my eyes tricking me?"

Stars above. Fish...! It's all she wanted. That, and a nice place to lay down. She had only gotten increasingly tired on their trek back to the clans, and with the extra weight she carried, Sleepycloud wasn't certain of her ability to stay on her paws for much longer. The purr that had left her at the thought of the Sunningrocks was choked out when the smell of ThunderClan hit her nose. Ducking her head low, the she-cat took a step back. Her green eyes flicked back to Thistlemask for reassurance while her shoulder was pressed to her mate's flank. The queen wasn't sure she could make it very far if they had to run.

Then, the voice and shape of another cat manifested from the shadows. Sleepycloud didn't know many ThunderClan cats aside from her companions. But this one? She knew. "Mottlestar." She murmured politely, bowing her head but keeping it low as it were. Thistlemask and Stormsong always spoke highly of her and the love she had for her clan. It was reassuring to Sleepycloud that Mottlestar was still around. However, that did not promise their sanctuary.

As the achingly familiar and yet now unfamiliar scent washed over her, the molly felt her entire body tense and relax in the same moment. It was a scent she couldn’t forget, but one that now seemed so distant and far removed from what she had known it to be - had it truly been that long since she had last seen her most beloved friend? So long that even something that she thought could never be erased entirely from her memory had begun to fade? She swallowed hard, throat dry and claws nervously flexing into the ground beneath her.

Her jaw opened and closed as she attempted to utter out anything; a greeting, an apology, literally anything, but despite her best efforts, the words seemed to be tangled up in her chest. Instead, she stood in an almost shaking silence, grounded to the earth by the tether of her claws dug in to the now softened earth beneath her paws. Thistlemask was unfortunately wholly aware of the tension in Sleepycloud’s body and wondered if she was mirroring the queen, unable to provide comfort or anything helpful as she found herself paralysed by the cat in front of them. Dragging her gaze up from the ground, the molly stared desperately into Mottlestar’s eyes, wondering if it could help her while she found the strength to speak.