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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Subject: fallen down (reprise) (c) Sat 13 Jan 2024 - 17:09
The world seemed hazy, as if stuck in a permanent twilight. Streaks of purple and bright blue dots lingered in Perchstar's vision, all covered by an ominously looming fuzz of gray that threatened to creep in and envelop her sight completely. All she could do was lay still in her makeshift den, blinking muzzily upwards, unable to focus on anything in front of her. She hadn't felt hungry or even thirsty for several days. Her pelt was simultaneously matted with sticky sweat from the heat and also shivering from interminable cold. Between every loud, wheezing breath, the only coherent corner of her brain wondered whether it would be her last. She'd died enough times now to know that it was only a matter of hours, maybe minutes, before she lost another. At least no one was here to watch her last pathetic moments this time. Or... wait, was that true? She could have sworn that she saw someone out of the corner of her eye.
There was no way of telling whether the cat in front of her was a hallucination or an actual visitor. Lately she'd kept a habit of silence, just in case whoever was trying to start a conversation with her happened to be only a specter. Too many times she'd awoken in the middle of the night, pleading with Cloverheart not to go out alone, begging Ashflight to stay with her, and ended up awakening poor Poppyshine instead. She hated being useless like this. She hated being unable to trust her own mental faculties. She hated knowing that while she lay here struggling, a murderer ran loose in SkyClan. Birdchaser had probably snickered up her nose when she saw that no RiverClan leader had come to the Gathering. It was almost enough to give her the will to force her trembling limbs to stand... almost. Unfortunately no such energy remained within her tired, ill body. Even speaking was almost impossible at this point.
Perchstar blinked, hard. The shadow of a cat in front of her had not vanished. She would hate to keep one of her actual Clanmates waiting just out of her desire to appear as competent as possible. She wasn't competent; not right now. That would be apparent to anyone who looked. So, though her cloudy blue eyes remained somewhat unfocused, she managed to grate out a sentence or two. "I'm sorry, now is... probably not a good time." Was that her voice? Raspy, unintelligible vowels mixed with scratchy attempts at consonants? And was that dark-furred cat with yellow eyes truly Rookflight as she believed, or yet another hallucination? "Is that you, Rookflight? You should go... I don't want you to... see me..." Die. That was the last word of her sentence. Yet however many times it happened to her, it still remained difficult to speak it aloud. Maybe, if she were lucky, she would have lost count and this death would be her last. Then RiverClan would not suffer any longer beneath the paw of a cat who was practically a talking corpse. A burst of coughing racked her frail frame, causing her paws to spasm. She did her best to cough into her fur, hopefully keeping any illness away from her former apprentice. If they were even actually here. Perhaps they wouldn't... perhaps she really would die alone. Would that be so bad? Finally she managed to fix her eyes forward. If it was a hallucination, it really did bear a striking resemblance to Rookflight. "It won't... be long now."
~~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 : 2499 Gender : any or username Age : 22
Subject: Re: fallen down (reprise) (c) Sun 14 Jan 2024 - 13:44
Rookflight
The snow was still so deep around Rookflight's body. It came up to their chest still when they found courage to venture outside. Hadn't they grown...? These could not be the same snows that welcomed them into the world as a kit... there were no reedbeds here. Not that they'd seen much. But they hadn't seen Fourtrees either. If Rookflight searched... they could recall the uncomfortable heat of green-leaf. It was like the fire that threatened to swallow them from within daily now. They had grown past kithood and the nursery. They knew their name--they were a warrior. Rookflight had grown fairly tall in the tumble of aging. Was the snow so high? Or...
Rookflight's chin shifted, pushing through the recently-fallen powder. They understood it now: they'd fallen on their way out of the patchwork medicine den. Rookflight hadn't even noticed his balance failing until he lay amidst the cold. He closed his eyes, sides heaving through laboured breaths.
In his dreams, Rookflight saw strange things. Large birds in the sky, sailing towards the horizon as if to beckon him away; black forms, taking nebulous and wavering shapes like clouds, large enough to curl their unsteady existence around his frame. Illusions of what happened in the real world, beyond the breadth of his tenuous consciousness. Memories of his very first breaths. No warmth waiting in the new world. Just cold, just like the blanketed ground he lay on. Rookflight searched for these visions, these sensations where he lay sprawled, but he couldn't reach beyond the wall of fever pressing down his thoughts. They thought the dream-memories would provide some insight into what brought them here, but it was no use if nothing would come.
Finding their paws was difficult; standing up again even moreso. Rookflight wobbled terribly and wondered if they would fall again. It was tempting to collapse back into the snow, or to lurch back into the nest that'd become their permanent residence, but something had paws. Whatever summoned them from their fitful sleep and brought them into the light must have been important. Each of Rookflight's legs trembled with the strain of disuse. The cold air that filled them with each ragged inhale made their chest feel near to collapse. Rookflight could not stop, however violently their body tried to fight all exertion, but they didn't try to. They simply let the force tugging at their sluggish body drag them onward across camp. It was important... it was important... it was important.
Something was in front of them, a figure lying in a lightless corner. Rookflight stopped. Snow scattered past the threshold of what they realized was another den when they came to a stumbling halt. Clouded breaths spilled from Rookflight's panting mouth to wreath their head. Staring down at the curled figure before him, trying to focus on what he saw, Rookflight suddenly remembered his mission: he'd been looking for something. It was the muted feeling of success that summoned the memory. Rookflight screwed his eyes shut, hoping it would help steady his scattered vision, and closed his mouth just long enough to swallow.
A deep voice rumbled through their mind, repeating a name Rookflight never had the chance to use. They stepped further into the private space, slack shape of their mouth stiffening around a tentative, Eaglescreech? when the waiting shadow spoke. Rookflight's eyelids rose heavily and they looked down. Their sight was still foggy, but they could make out the gray-and-white pelt wrapped around the mass; the familiar voice, however rough it was. "...Perchstar." Rookflight wheezed, wincing slightly at the way their throat ached. The cat in front of them was not their mother, returned from StarClan. The expected pang of disappointment never came.
The tones of Perchstar's speech reverberated through Rookflight, but any meaning was just muddied nonsense. They lurked above her for several moments, rocking dangerously in place, before proper words registered. Rookflight's ears angled sideways and back. He took a step forward, then another and on until he was close enough to let his legs give way at Perchstar's side. It was unusual. Rookflight did not like closeness from any that didn't meet his abstract concept of special. Perchstar was similarly reserved with these gestures... Rookflight vaguely hoped he hadn't made her uncomfortable, but he couldn't feel apologetic. His mother's name still echoed in the spaces where coherent thoughts wouldn't form.
Perchstar was warm against them; no, hot. Fur damp and sticking to their own from sweat. Rookflight's tail weakly twitched. She was still sick? Of course she was--the reek of disease was thick in the air. Rookflight had assumed it to be the miasma clinging to their own pelt. Their aching heart tightened with a sense of dawning that they hadn't the strength to try and entertain. "Long...? Until?" Rookflight pressed softly, shifting to focus their glassy eyes on Perchstar; attentive as always, even though their neck creaked with the effort of keeping their bobbing head aloft. "Is something... going to happen...?"
Subject: Re: fallen down (reprise) (c) Tue 16 Jan 2024 - 18:15
Perchstar found herself losing the ability to speak. If Rookflight truly was who stood before her, then she felt a tightness in her chest at the questions gone unanswered. But no more words crossed her maw. The feeling of a presence nearby--of fur pressing into hers--was all that made its way through her violent, painful shivers. It was... nice. Rarely did she have such moments of physical contact other than with Poppyshine, who had always attempted such, and her own kits, with whom it still remained uncommon. To have someone nearby for a moment like this... Instead of being alone, or suddenly attacked by a monster or a fox, or wandering in the pouring rain... Surprisingly, it was nice. Comforting, almost. Quiet... it was quiet. This was an acceptable way to die.
One more breath, one more faint trickle of air seeped in through her lungs. Then the final exhale. She knew that it was her last. For this life, at least. Death began to lose its meaning. With a warm presence nearby, it was okay. She just wanted... some rest. A reprieve from the pangs of misery that caused her entire frame to shake. Was it over yet? Could she open her eyes? Or close them, never to see Cloverheart and Ashflight's corpses again? Everything slipped away. Knowledge, physical sensation... everything became irrelevant. All but the quiet, persistent feeling that she was being watched over. Protected. Someone cared.
Ice-blue eyes went glassy.
--
Though the RiverClan leader was far away from the comforts of the forest that all of the Clans had laid their foundations, it was clear that the stars and their ancestors had not yet fully abandoned them. In fact, as the silver and white molly would rise, she would find herself amidst the starry landscape that she had been several times before. Whether for better or worse, the symptoms that had constantly battered the leader’s body like a never-ending foe seemed to finally cease. It was a moment of peace, of fresh air, of quiet and solace. Though, even StarClan knew this was not the first time the leader had lost a life, and the undercurrents of urgency, frustration, and grief did not seem to entirely disappear, either.
Peace... finally, peace. Yet it remained bitter. Perchstar allowed herself a single breath of cool air, though she knew that as a spirit, it was unnecessary. It was nice, even if for a moment, not to have any starvation or sickness hampering her ability to think. Yet, now that she was alone with her thoughts, she found that remembering her many issues brought her no comfort.
She would not remain alone for long. A gentle voice called behind the leader, one that hadn’t been heard for quite some time. ”Perchstar.” The name was called with a respectful purr, though as soon as the two-toned molly would turn, she would not dip her head. A set of deep, crystalline blue eyes would meet with those of the ever-frosted ice, stars dancing behind them with both the wisdom of thousands of lives and yet the youth that she had held during her time in the forest. Glowing stars continued all throughout her pelt, giving the specter a particularly ghostly appearance as the paleness of her fur had lightened to almost nothing. Even the deeper silver patches of her face and tail did not hold enough pigment to convince even the most delirious of cats that she was fully there, as the otherworldliness surrounded her as tightly as the pelts of some of Riverclan’s cats.
Slowly Perchstar turned, allowing all of the memories that voice encompassed to wash over her for a moment. A ceremony. A patrol. A still, unmoving form in the nursery. "Mallowmist." Another spirit of the stars... one she hadn't seen since the life was given. And now it had been lost, so here she was again. Though she hadn't known the queen well, her face was still a welcome sight.
”Of all of the things I wonder, I can’t say that the repetition of losing a life is one of them.” Mallowmist shook her head as she moved closer to the leader, ultimately halting shoulder-to-shoulder with the other molly. Sitting with a grace that had only come to her after her passing, and wrapping her thin tail around her paws, there was a look on her face that held an emotion that couldn’t quite be named. It was far from pity, but it held the figments of emotions such as curiosity, grief, denial, and frustration. Such a collage was far too complicated to make many remarks on, but with a singular blink, they seemed to sweep away with the strength of a newleaf current. ”I must apologize on Starclan’s behalf for forcing you to endure that illness for so long. I… cannot help but wonder how many more clanmates it may try and take.” The sorrow that wrapped itself in her statement now tugged on her maw, pulling it just slightly downwards as her eyes shifted beyond the leader and to the landscape below where it was possible to survey the makeshift camp.
Apologies. Something that StarClan rarely gave. For some reason, it gave Perchstar a sour taste in her mouth. She looked away across the starry plains, feeling her torn ear twitch. "I know it is not your fault," she murmured. The stars as a whole entity were very much different from the individuals that she knew. Cloverheart or Finchstream or Mallowmist surely would not have inflicted this on the Clans. "But unfortunately... words are empty." The thought of any more of her Clanmates dying similarly from this illness--Rookflight among them, whose eyes had seemed dim with sickness of their own--caused her shoulders to hunch forward tightly. Another death might break her irreparably. On top of everything else.
Taking some time to survey each of her currently-living clanmates, looking at something seemingly beyond the starry terrain in which they occupied, the former warrior abruptly pulled away from whatever she had been scrutinizing. ”However, it will do us no good to spend this time lamenting in the evil that seems to be creeping. RiverClan has promise of a new medicine cat, and I feel Sandyshell and Wrenpaw both have needed a new protégé to take up their duties. We will no longer have to wonder how long it will be until RiverClan also is able to heal from this ilk. I can promise you that much.” She had certainly been keeping some company with the leader’s predecessor, if her manner of speech gave away any clues.
Yes--Littlepaw's appointment to the position. Something that the ill Perchstar had barely comprehended now became clear to her. It was certainly necessary. Hopefully a few days more of training, perhaps a conversation with the other medicine cats, and her Clan's situation would not be so dire. Mallowmist's promise was belated, but very welcome. In acknowledgement, the leader dipped her head. But Mallowmist was not done, it seemed.
”Perchstar, if I may impart some wisdom: don’t ever settle for the path that first comes to mind. Always be willing to search for a new perspective, a new solution, a new possibility. I know Cloverheart’s murderer still residing within SkyClan causes an unending amount of grief in you… I can feel it as strong as the raging rapids of the gorge. But do not let that anger blind you to the path to justice. Let them be the fuel to the fire you wish to blaze, yes, but do not let the smoke cloud your eyes. I know you are more than intelligent and capable enough to do so.” There was a seriousness in her eyes that couldn’t be ignored as her gaze leveled with the leader. At the same time, Mallowmist couldn’t bring herself to remove the grim expression that settled into her cheeks and maw. There would be many lives forfeit, more than just that of the murderer and the RiverClan medicine cat that had been victim.
Yet more advice. Perchstar steeled her bones, ignoring how the reminder reawakened the slumbering embers of rage that the hot wind of illness had forced to die down. Beechfang. A murderer still out there, still threatening the lives of those she loved simply by existing. A more ruthless leader would simply have ended the rogue's life during that encounter. Foolishly, she'd believed the matter settled... a foolishness that haunted her still. But Mallowmists's words could not be ignored. Once the illness finally left, Perchstar would have time to think... think and consider a proper punishment that would not also injure her Clan. If such a thing could be found. It was well-meant advice, she knew. And yet it was not truly helpful. Not really guidance. Not something that could assist in the conundrum that awaited her when she reawoke one life shorter. So all that she could manage to respond with was "...I see."
Throwing a sharp glance behind her, the warrior let out a heavy sigh. ”I would love to sit here and ruminate with you for much longer, Perchstar, but the others do not like it when we dally. Stars, if you ask Mottlestar how many times they’ve silenced her guide, I’m certain—“ She flinched, as if there was a sharp set of claws suddenly attacking the late molly. Grimacing, she shook her head. ”Case in point… never stop wondering how the forest could be better, Perchstar. You are a force that cannot be withheld, and I know you will use it for good. Continue to question everything around you. Maybe not quite everyone… but blind faith is always easier to break than that which is tested by doubt.” Standing, the late warrior dipped her head as she took a few steps away in order to take her leave.
And that was that. A short visit, as always. The idea that those in charge of StarClan were silencing others intrigued her--with a concern that felt like something sharp in her chest. Cloverheart and the others. This wasn't their fault. But whose, then, was it? Still, the visit was coming to an end. And with it, the renewed grief of loss and of living began again to weigh heavy on Perchstar's shoulders. Still, she gave a nod of respect in return as the spirit departed. "Thank you, Mallowmist. As always... I will do my best." And yet... her best would never be enough. With that unhappy thought, Perchstar found herself alone once more in the unfamiliar, uncomfortingly empty plains.
--
Wakefulness. Unfortunately. There would be so much to do... once she could muster the strength to raise her head. No, scratch that. First she had to get her eyes back in working order. Perchstar blinked, took in a breath, and then grimaced at the waves of pain that returned to her battered mortal frame. Still sick, she could tell. Agonizingly so. And once more her mind became clouded... but not quite as clouded as it had been. Now she was able to recognize the cat who had sat with her during her death. It had been Rookflight. The realization brought a mixture of warmth and frigid sorrow. He'd watched her die. She hadn't been able to do anything about it. "...I apologize." Her voice once again was rough and scratchy, thick with phlegm. But at least she could speak once more. "I did not mean for you... to see that... but I thank you. Your kindness... means much."
~~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 : 2499 Gender : any or username Age : 22
Subject: Re: fallen down (reprise) (c) Thu 1 Feb 2024 - 20:40
Rookflight
Perchstar shook as if she were caught in the furious winds of tempests made infamous by their violent nature. The breaths she managed into her rattling lungs were thin; even Rookflight could tell. The simple act of lying still had become an impossibility. It was to reason her body prioritized only the necessary functions of those that were failing, and speaking was certainly not one of them... but when no answers met Rookflight's questions, if they were understood at all, it thickened the knowingness in their chest and made them frown. Has Perchstar lied before? They questioned hazily. No. ...but they'd wanted her to: forego all personal value in honesty just to tell him she meant nothing, say it'd only been the idle mutterings of the sick and addle-minded.
She did not. Neither did she confirm his worries, but the struggling wisps of air shuddering past her slackened jaw were answer enough. Even her eyes, sluggishly following his form, provided none of the relief they so often did. In just one moment, the light in Perchstar's gaze, like sun scattering off frozen waters, simply ceased to exist.
Rookflight pressed his nose, then quickly his entire head, into the thick, sweat-matted fur of her ruff. Her stillness felt so jarringly stark once the last of her waning tremors subsided. For a moment, it was easy to believe she had just fallen asleep, succumbed to the exhaustion of being sick... but even at rest, she would have kept shaking. Perchstar was still now as only dead things and stone can be.
For some reason, Rookflight didn't feel sadness over the revelation. The nerves of knowingness subsided upon a wheezy exhale. ...not wholly, as their stomach continued to squirm like a pile of worms, but enough for their taut shoulders to relax. The moment was... peaceful. A hazy image of the goose that had come squawking at the clowder of apprentices rose to mind. Geese were dangerous, sure, though certainly not the largest threat... but still, it gave Rookflight the bittersweet thought they were grateful it was a moment of quiet. Almost tranquility, if not for the undeniable weight of death present on the air. Perchstar was not ripped to pieces in a violent tangle with a larger, more violent beast; she only exhaled, and that was simply that.
They could not truly know how many lives she had left, but if StarClan held her in good faith still, she would get up soon. They were sure... they were sure they would know. As the chill of still blood took over her body's searing warmth, Rookflight's heart buckled again with the fear this may have been her last life they'd ferried for her, but a memory wormed through their muddled thoughts. I guess it's similar to when a season ends. The Moon turns and then the weather gets colder, and you think that's that for you. The plants die, but then when Greenleaf comes again new plants grow where the old ones were.
Rookflight closed their eyes and sank further against Perchstar's side. Behind the lids of their eyes, those strangely curling, protective nebulas that shaped their dreams tried mistily to reform. The big birds, too. Eaglescreech... roamed passively through their head again. When Rookflight squeezed their eyes shut tighter as if to squint, it didn't feel as if the birds were flying away anymore. They'd taken roost-- perched.
Ah. He thought he understood something then--even if imagined, even if only true to him: Eaglescreech had been the shepherd for his restless stumble across camp. She had led him here with purpose. This was no wandering of an addled mind.
Rookflight drew in a breath, and just as he did so, Perchstar did as well. He could feel her recoil against him, and Rookflight meant to pull away quickly to allow her space, but the movement ended up being rather sluggish. Still, he managed to lean away, blinking foggy eyes and watching her speak and-- realizing he did not want to hold himself aloft. Or he just did not want to be so far as even a muzzle.
Without thought, he pressed his head back into her fur and quietly rasped, "No. Do not be." How could she apologize, as if she'd had a part or choice in it? Rookflight could suddenly feel the fullness of their skull, pressured and itching at the seams. They had to swallow around their coiling throat, and made a strange noise in doing so, before they spoke again. "It was not your fault. I... I am just glad you are awake again." Their own breath felt uncomfortably hot when it ruffled through Perchstar's fur to stifle their nose. Burning as it was, Rookflight couldn't be bothered enough by it to retreat again. Though they craned themself to look at her directly, they remained stubbornly stuck to Perchstar's side. "Are you--" what did they ask of a thing dead, yet living anyway? "are you- is there... anything I can do for you?"
Subject: Re: fallen down (reprise) (c) Tue 20 Feb 2024 - 21:52
The gestures that Rookflight shared with her--affectionate, of a nature that she'd hardly ever felt, even from her own kits--sent a jolt through Perchstar that managed to make it into her nerves even past the rolling waves of exhaustion and pain. Even through this sickness, she felt the effort that he was making. The desire to help was so naked and thick that it felt nearly stifling. She didn't deserve this. Not when she'd been lying in her den like a useless lump of fur for more than a moon. And yet... she could not deny that it soothed her. Not completely--there was far too much agony and guilt and loss to ever be fully content and quieted. But some tiny corner of her heart, the one that rawly ached for affection she did not know how to request or receive beginning at her kithood and only worsening... that corner relished its momentary euphoria. "Anything... you can do?" she repeated, her cracking voice painfully droning and slow. But that Something, awakened perhaps by her dire illness, would not let go of its vice grip on the reins of her mind. That Something spoke through her mouth, and while it did, light blue eyes glazed with sickness met Rookflight's with a barely-smothered need. "Stay... with me. Like this. For a while. If... you don't mind." If she were at her full strength, if her brain was not permanently clouded with the waves of torment that racked her body, she would hate this vulnerability. She would find herself pathetic. But the Something had her now, and it asked for closeness. "Being with you... eases my mind... Rook."
