TW: Death Open Camp AS THE LAST OF THE BUGS LEAVE THEIR HOMES AGAIN ☼ ] return [

[GOLDENSTAR]

{$title} tw: this thread includes death and grief themes! please take care.

His paws steps are heavy. Weaselchirp has his flank, carrying the other half of Molewhisker's body, but that isn't what feels so, so heavy. Achingly heavy. It's the loss that this represents. One of the heads he trusted in the tunnels, much like he trusts Weaselchirp down there, lost. Lost to what? It wasn't their own carelessness, he knows that. Goldenroar believes so heavily that he knows it wasn't Molewhisker's fault. He's lost in thought, but camp crests into sight soon enough. The lump of anxiety that was growing in his stomach jumps to his throat.

Dandelionpaw should have run ahead to alert Dimmingsun, but he isn't sure if they told Dustystar, too. Aqua eyes sweep towards Weaselchirp to take stock in how the other way doing, and silently he continues ahead. Stepping into camp under the cloud-covered sky felt chilling, even more then the cold weather, or the cold body upon him. Goldenroar doesn't speak, signaling with his ears instead where he intends to move. He lowers the corpse down, standing a bit straighter.

He doesn't say any wise words- no, instead he's sweeping his eyes on the crowd. He's silently relieved that neither of his siblings could have ever drowned beneath soil. He finds them in camp, makes sure they're okay, then moves his vision to search for Dustystar instead. He expects Dimmingsun will be here soon enough. Goldenroar turns instead to Weaselchirp before finding the leader, despite beginning the scan with his eyes. "You did well finding them, Weaselchirp. Take care of yourself." He says quietly, brushing his shoulder to hers, before heading to stand near @Dustystar's side.

_______________________ I KEEP RUNNIN' BUT ☼ I'M STANDING STILL _______________________

• "speech"
  // follows this thread here
  // tagging @DIMMINGSUN and @Dandelionpaw, as well as @Weaselchirp
  // briefly looking at merrystalk and sunnyspring, but no tag there!
  

• 

• GOLDENROAR he/him, windclan deputy, fourty three moons.
  ☆ a lh golden red marbled tabby with low white and glimmering aqua eyes. often seen with a smirk, confidence oozing from him in heaps, but always the ever-helpful guy.
  ☆ mentored by no one / mentoring dandelionpaw
  ☆ older brother to merrystalk and sunnyspring
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  
  ☆ mini by tasmagoric, ref image by laevatein (yours truly!)

 

[Weaselchirp Weaselchirp]

I'm a young soul in this very strange world
Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout what is true and fake
But why all this hate? Try to communicate
Finding trust and love is not always easy to make

.

Weaselchirp was no stranger to death... Oh, no, no... She had danced with it before, hadn't she? When fire chewed up her home... When smoke took her mother... When her siblings scattered like leaves in a storm. Only she and Ripple had slipped through the cracks of fate then, like worms avoiding a careless paw. But this... This was different. This was her earth. Her tunnels. Her dark, her quiet, her sacred place beneath the skin of the moor. And something wrong, terribly wrong, had slithered into it.

Molewhisker, careful, clever Molewhisker should not have been cold. No, no, the soil should have held them warm, held them safe, held them alive. Her wide orange eyes stared at the ground as she walked, unblinking, like she was afraid the world might break again if she blinked even once. She should have felt it, the tremble, the shift, the warning hum that tunnels always gave her. She should have been there sooner. She should have started her work earlier, taken that path first, followed that instinct that had itched in her whiskers this morning... Maybe then Molewhisker would be walking beside her. Maybe then the earth would not taste like grief on her tongue. A sharp breath caught in her chest, and suddenly her head snapped toward Goldenroar, too fast, too stiff, like a tree branch whipped by a sudden wind. For a heartbeat her face cracked open, showing all that hurting softness she rarely let anyone see.

" It was the least I could do... " she whispered, her voice thin and trembling like loose dirt on a ledge. " No... No, the earth wasn't supposed to take them yet. Not yet. " Her gaze fell to Molewhisker's body, and her ears drooped until they almost brushed her cheeks. " The earth didn't want this... " she murmured. " It didn't ask for this. Those wounds... They're not tunneler wounds. Not collapse wounds. Something else touched them. Something wrong. "

Her thin tail lashed, sharp as a crack in a wall before her head dipped again. She squeezed her eyes shut, almost childlike, as if not seeing the body would keep the grief from spilling out of her as Goldenroar brushed past her, urging her to take care of herself.

" I will... "

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

70 MOONS

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WINDCLANNER

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SONG

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bio

 

[nutmegpurr nutmegpurr]

On a day like today, Nutmeg is pressed close to @ROOSTERTUFT, trying to starve off the biting cold with his warmth albeit a bit selfishly. Her head raises from where they had been placed too close to his paws and what she sees immediately sends that chill right down her spine once more. Something akin to dread (this is so, so wrong, this can't be happening) seizes her heart. She's up from his side in an instant, paws striding towards the gathering scene. Some part of her knows what shes seeing, shes seen it before. She's seen that glassy look in Hush's eyes, that cold, lifeless look that dulls the very shine out of your eyes.

"What-" happened, dies on the tip of the moor runners tongue. "How?" her mind stumbles over itself in order to make sense of it all. One of their tunnelers, laying dead before Goldenroar. Weaselchirp seems upset, well, more than upset- Nutmegpurr would be, too. She's not a tunneler, she has no clue of most of the dangers that lurk beneath the surface, cannot comprehend the fact that you could lose your life down there just as you could up there. But its a tunnelers job to do this, how could this happen, how could you die? Some selfish part of herself tries to rationalize it, and ultimately the blame isn't placed on a single thing, not a single person, not anything at all. An accident? She just stares, curled ears flattening in ever-growing horror.

Molewhisker would never dig again. Would never walk the moors again. Oh, Starclan...

GOOD NEWS FOR ANYONE ♡ WHO LOVES BAD NEWS

• 
  
•  
• 
  NUTMEGPURR ♡
  
  ( gale guard of windclan )​
  ❥ a tall cinnamon tortie with curled ears & pink-brown eyes; well-muscled & fluffy
  ❥ mentoring pebblepaw
  ❥ sister to meadowpaw & peafowlpaw; reluctantly interested in roostertuft
  ❥ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ❥ penned by chuff
  "speech"

 

[Ravenmask]

Ravenmask heard the mourning in the camp's center - or rather, he became aware of the silence, the chill that settled over his Clanmates. He padded out, seeing the limp form of Molewhisker in the center of camp, and felt his heart sink.

For one so young, to die right after the Clan survived such a tragedy... Molewhisker had been a good Clanmate, a dedicated tunneler. They had helped him with the apprentices in the aftermath, on their less than successful herb gathering trip. And poor Weaselchirp... she looked harrowed - must've been the one to find the poor thing.

He padded first to Weaselchirp, pressing his forehead to her shoulder in an act of comfort.

"I'm so sorry, Weaselchirp. I know they were a fellow tunneler. If you need anything... if you want to share your memories of them, please do not hesitate to come to me. I'll pass along their memory to the younger cats, so that it may never be forgotten."

He then padded to the body, pressing his nose into their fur.

"Rest well, Clanmate. May your spirit find safe tunnels for you to wind through, and your memory be one of joy instead of pain."

He looked around for the medicine cats, ready to offer assistance with their garden of the dead once those who wanted had said their goodbyes.

___________________ UPHILL IN THE SNOW ☆ BOTH WAYS ___________________

• "speech" || "thoughts"
  Tagging: @Weaselchirp
  
• 
  
• RAVENMASK he/him, windclan elder, 93 moons.
  ☆ White and black tom with smoky stripes, bright green eyes, and a twisted back paw.
  ☆ brother of Mallowfeather
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline when attacking/physically interacting
  ☆ penned by plot ↛ plot_twists on discord, feel free to dm for interacts.

 

[HoneyflowerHoneyflower's icon]

Slow Down, Just Breathe

The sudden silence that blankets the camp causes Honeyflower to shudder. Nutmegpurr's cry of alarm causes her to practically launch herself out of her nest, rushing out of the nursery to see what's happened. She stops dead in her tracks beside her fellow gale guard. What happened? How did this happen? Wasn't Molewhisker always digging back at the barn...

"Oh, Molewhisker..." She leans down to touch her nose to it's ear. Cold. The smell of damp earth on them is nearly overpowering. "...I never really got to thank you for saving Cricketpaw, that time. And-" When did her sight become blurry? The gale guard blinks the tears away, shaking her head in an attempt to clear them away. "-Rest well, friend... Watch over us in Starclan, ok..?"

It didn't seem fair. That they'd all only just begun to return to some semblance of normalcy after the flood and now this...

xxx

All We Have Is All We Need

Tags

Honeyflower

✿—Gale Guard Of WindClan
✿—She/Her
✿—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
✿—Dilute Calico Shecat With Green Eyes And A Floppy Ear
#a4e1ba

 

[Merrystalk Merrystalk]

The gale guard had busied himself on checking in on the nursery, bringing the kits fresh prey and ensuring the nests were well padded to keep the little sprouts warm. It was a small joy, but enough to improve his mood on a bad day, and as he chattered with the kits, something cold washed over his pelt.

His words died on his tongue as a suffocating sensation curled its way around his throat, like that night of the flood, the grief and dread. Merry's gaze scattered about the kittens, the caretakers, but not a whisker was out of place, not a face crinkled in something sorrowful. The sensation only strengthened as the dull noise of talking in the camp drew his attention, jaw clenching as he shakily stepped from the nursery.

Merry's fears were only worsened as he saw a crowd in the centre of camp, noticing the expression knit across his brother's face that made his maw bitter with dread. Something had occurred, something terrible.

Every step towards them, the sensation of terror and fear, dread and sorrow, mounted into something that could have made him crumple and weep right there and then. Tangled in his own thoughts, curled amid his own fear. It was only as he pressed forth among the rabble that he saw the truth.

Molewhisker. One of their very own tunnelers, limp there with no plume of breath caught in the cool leaffall air. He never had the chance to be close with the chimaera, though they stood their ground as a strong and wise warrior of their ranks. Their pelt was mottled with dirt and blood. Oh, Starclan, a sickening amount of blood that coloured their pelt an unnatural red. His shaky eyes scanned the other; he knew little on the way of a tunneler, but knew enough about the danger of a cave-in.

But this? It was Weaselchirp's shaky words that confirmed his suspicion, though his heart broke for her, a heart of gold that dearly treasured each of her tunnelling companions. Though Merry's mouth was dry, he finally found his words. "Somethin'- Someone attacked 'em..." The words themselves were like a death sentence, the claw marks that marred flesh were one thing, but in the tangle of earth, blood and matted fur, there was undoubtedly a lethal bite to their throat. It was no wonder the state they were in, the blood that leaked from a clenched jaw. "Someone took one've our own."

Beneath the grief and fear, something bubbled beneath his pelt. For once, it was the only thing to separate these intrusive emotions he couldn't quite pinpoint as his own, but that fury that prickled at his pelt was something he could never deny as his own. He could have snapped some wild accusation, searching for a blame, a cause, some sort of retribution. But the quiet sniffle of a cat at his side, raising his gaze to see Honeyflower's eyes growing misty, made the initial fury be snuffed out.

Anger wouldn't bring back a fallen clanmate, fury would not console his clanmates. Instead, Merrystalk padded to his fellow guard, his friend, and sat at her side and nudging her cheek with his forehead. He found his throat tightening again, but not such a distressing sensation anymore. "Molewhisker was a kind soul, Honeyflower. 'm sure they knew how grateful you were fer every day Cricketpaw's gotten to enjoy her life since." It was impossible to shake the looming cloud of his realisation, but for now the clan needed peace. Time to mourn. But oh, Starclan, how cruel it was to take a warrior from them so soon. He just hoped Molewhisker could rest at ease, and did not suffer long in their final moments.

Merry knew this wasn't the end; there was a conversation to be had. But not here, not now. Not in the face of such a demise. Not when the clan was sunk into a state of mourning.

​

MERRYSTALK He/Him, Windclan Gale Guard, 33 moons.
A lithe, tortoiseshell cat with green eyes and pelt speckled with rye grass.
mentored by none // mentoring Talonpaw
sibling to Goldenroar and Sunnyspring
NPC x NPC / parent to no one / mated to Harefoot
"SPEECH" // "THOUGHTS" // ATTEMPTED ACTION // EMPATHY DETECTION // ALETHIA DETECTION
penned by Pheo ↛ phoenixwashere on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[Cricketpaw Cricketpaw]

'Cause I'd get a thousand hugs from ten thousand lightning bugs
As they tried to teach me how to dance
A foxtrot above my head, a sock hop beneath my bed
A disco ball is just hanging by a thread

.

" Hey, what's going on? " Cricketpaw called out, weaving through her Clanmates. Confusion furrowed her brow, but fear crept coldly into her chest the quieter the clearing became. No chatter. No murmuring apprentices. Just a suffocating stillness. Something was wrong. Bad. Her paws slowed as she emerged into the open. Goldenroar and Weaselchirp stood there, their eyes shadowed... And at their paws... No, no that had to be a joke. They were okay.. They...

Molewhisker.

Why... Why weren't they moving? Cricketpaw blinked rapidly, throat tightening as the world seemed to tilt beneath her. She staggered forward a step. And another. " H-hey... " she tried, voice trembling. " What's... What's with Molewhisker? Why are they-- "

But the question died on her tongue. The mud tangled in his fur. The blood drying dark along his fur. The terrible stillness. Not resting. Not sleeping. Gone. Her breath hitched painfully. Molewhisker, who had rescued her. Who had wrapped his tail around her when the world had nearly swallowed her whole. Who always smiled at her little treasures. Gone. " N-no... Hey... I... " She fumbled desperately through her fur with shaking paws until she found a tiny beetle shell, one she'd kept safe just for them. She set it gently against his chest. A pitiful offering. A goodbye she was not ready to give. A tiny offering, as if it could undo what had been done...

" I'm sorry. " she whispered, voice shattering. " I... I should've.. I... " The tears finally spilled over. Fat and helpless, they slid down her face as she pressed herself into their fur, trying to hide the sound of her grief, trying to hold onto them just a heartbeat longer. The world dimmed.

Because Molewhisker wasn't in it anymore.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

10 MOONS

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WINDCLANNER

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SONG

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bio

 

[Dustystar Dustystar]

✪ Align my Heart, my Body, my Mind​

indentDustystar waits with steeled resolve. As soon as Goldenroar and Weaselchirp enter camp, she stands at attention. She knocks her shoulder against her deputy before swiftly making her way to the body.

indentWhile the others mourn their lost, Dustystar closely examines Molewhisker's cold body. The wounds aren't immediately familiar to her. They certainly don't look like wounds from any hare she's ever seen. "Could it be?" Silver brows furrow deeply. If it wasn't prey, could another cat have done this?

indent"Dimmingsun, look at this." Dustystar beckons, gently nosing the body. "Do you recognize these wounds? I want to know what could have done this."

- talking to @DIMMINGSUN -​

Dustystar - 27 moons - Windclan Leader

 

[ROOSTERTUFT]

x

The patchwork tom had been enjoying how close Nutmegpurr had leaned into his fur but the sound of gasps and concerned murmurs from his clanmates is enough for him to quirk a brow in confusion. It's when the cinnamon torbie peels herself from his side to walk over to the limp body that had been carried in by Weaselchirp and Goldenroar that makes his stomach twist in discomfort. He pushes himself to his paws so that he brushes against the side of his close companion and stares at the stilled form of Molewhisker, what a shame that the other had died so soon, and it seemed that it hadn't been the cave-in from the tunnel itself according to Merrystalk's words.

A frown forming itself on his ivory maw wondering who could've done such a thing and to end someone's life so soon before they got a chance to full live it, Dustystar is quick to ask Dimmingsun what could've caused this injury and Rooster knows that hares are capable of defending themselves if they were cornered but these didn't look like injuries inflicted by the large rodents that usually occupied their fresh-kill piles. "May they rest in peace..." Rooster offers at last in a low murmur only to straighten his posture and leans his shoulder against Nutmegpurr in a comforting manner.

FACES ILLUMINATED IN THE DARK

ROOSTERTUFT

WINDCLAN WARRIOR
TRANS MASC x HE/HIM​

x

"speech", thoughts, attacking
a large, longhaired black smoke tortie/blue ticked tabby chimera with a pair of earthy toned eyes and low white
has complicated feelings towards goldenroar and subtly interested in nutmegpurr

charismatic, stubborn, adventurous, aloof, and awkward would be a few words that describe roostertuft as an individual. a former barncat that's getting accustomed to clan life after the events of the barn burning down, he oftentimes misses the life before it burnt down yet he's someone who'll adapt to change.

 

[sorrelchime sorrelchime]

SORRELCHIME
SHE/HER
15 MOONS
WINDCLAN MOOR RUNNER
SPEECH | THOUGHTS | ACTION

She was no stranger to death.

The molly was young, a newly graduated warrior alongside her sister and littermate: Cloverbloom. The pair looked almost identical, save for Sorrelchime being a bit darker and having a touch more white than her sister. Her eyes were also moderately darker, though it was never a surprise to her when people mistook them for each other. Still, this day was not about her.

Molewhisker was gone.

So very fleeting, she hardly knew them. They was matted with dried blood, Weaselchirp and Goldenroar had carried them back to camp. She could feel the hollow thump in her chest, remembering how she felt when her mother had perished in the barn fire. Nonetheless, she had to be strong now. Strong for the apprentices, strong for her clan. She was a warrior now after all, she was expected to show a level of professionalism and composure, even in the face of something like this. She takes a deep, shaky breath, dipping her nose to the body of the cat that seems to be growing colder with each moment. Some of her clanmates seemed to reflect her feelings: confusion, upset. Weaselchirp seemed especially shaken, likely having found its body in the tunnels.

Death in the tunnels came sometimes, accidents, cave ins. But this was different, something had killed Molewhisker. Something had slithered its way into their tunnels and killed him. Merrystalk spoke it into the air, and everyone seemed to pause. Could it be a Windclanner? A beast? Another clan lurking down there? She shuddered at the thought, quietly clearing her throat.

"May you find peace, Molewhisker..." She meowed, dipping her head again. She didn't know them well, but they deserved to be remembered fondly, to walk a path filled with hope instead of pain.

​

OOC:

 

[Merrystalk Merrystalk]

He bit his tongue. Starclan, how he didn't want to cause a scene. But something was wrong, dreadfully so. This wasn't him overthinking, not at all. He'd been told to be the bigger cat, not to act out of step, but the longer he remained there, eyes examining the wounds that marred the pelt of their own warrior, there was something he knew he wasn't imagining.

Merrystalk was a rash cat. Windclan knew this, but he wasn't a fool. He knew his borders, every inch, every landmark, the scent of another clan.

The gale guard gave Honeyflower an apologetic look, his heart thundering in his ears. He wanted to be wrong, oh, Starclan, he wanted to be imagining things.

But Merrystalk finally approached Molewhisker's corpse and bowed his head. To all else, it would have looked utterly strange, the tortie's gaze hardening as he delicately inspected the tunneler's wounds.

He knew blood scent well, far too well. Just enough to scent past it. There was something else clinging to Molewhisker's pelt. If the perpetrator had been any luckier, they would have been able to evade suspicion.

Though Merrystalk pressed a nose to Molewhisker's chest, about to breathe an apology. There it was.

His breath hitched, like being there beneath the earth of the collapsed den. Suffocating. Horrifying.

"Skyclan." Merrystalk muttered, horror dawning across his brow. He didn't care if it was seen as obscene; he again pressed a nose to the pelt of the tunneler, where their chest had been lightly clawed, where they likely had been pinned by the perpetrator. There it was. He spoke louder now. "A Skyclan cat did this."

The tortoiseshell looked to his fellow council, his clanmates. His jaw slackened as he felt bile rise in his throat. "Dimming- Goldy- Someone please tell me I'm not wrong, I smell Skyclan on them." It wasn't enough for them to have been trespassing; someone had broken into their tunnels, their territory, and killed one of their warriors.

​

MERRYSTALK He/Him, Windclan Gale Guard, 33 moons.
A lithe, tortoiseshell cat with green eyes and pelt speckled with rye grass.
mentored by none // mentoring Talonpaw
sibling to Goldenroar and Sunnyspring
NPC x NPC / parent to no one / mated to Harefoot
"SPEECH" // "THOUGHTS" // ATTEMPTED ACTION // EMPATHY DETECTION // ALETHIA DETECTION
penned by Pheo ↛ phoenixwashere on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[Hollowmumble]

Hollowmumble, -- 43 Moons / Windclan Cat -- Ages on the 14th
Black spotted ghost tabby with bright amber eyes.
She is friendly, yet quiet, and always willing to help.

Tagging @Weaselchirp

---

The sight of the body made her heart sink to her paws, as she was drawn to the sudden quiet of camp. Slinking out of the warriors den, she watched her fellow cats gather around and share condolences, reassurances and grief as they looked down upon their fallen friend. The battered and bruised body sunk into her mind. Another one gone from something preventable. Another tragedy.

Hollowmumble's gaze fell to Weaselchirp. Her friend looked destroyed. Grief stricken and barely holding together. Forgoing the body, she carefully walked over to her friend, hesitantly pressing their sides together to offer some semblance of comfort. Hopefully it wouldn't be rejected. She opened her maw to quietly ask, "How are you doi-" but her voice died at the declaration from Merrystalk.

No. It couldn't be.

What could Molewhisker have done to earn the ire of Skyclan? The ruthless, bloody violence put upon them?

Skyclan would do this. Of course they would. She wonders if Molewhisker crossed a border. Fought over prey. Got caught up in the wrong time at the wrong place... the borders were supposed to be firm. Keep Skyclan on their side, and Windclan on the other. Her distain for them only grew, seeing this. Such violence, such anger towards innocent cats... she fears what could come next.

 

[Wrenwhisker]

Death's bell had tolled again for one of their own. The loss was not a personal one for Wrenwhisker, who had not known well the cat with whom she shared a suffix, but it wasn't as if she was unaffected, either. She wasn't the friendliest or most community-minded of cats, no, but a needless death was a needless death. Losing someone so young, someone who she'd tunneled alongside...it stung like a thorn in the paw. Wrenwhisker's blue eyes had the cast of thunderclouds as she sat, head bowed, simply experiencing the grief and shock of her Clanmates as it lapped against her. What else could she do? She wasn't going to pretend that she had lost someone dear to her. She knew what that felt like, to lose someone you truly loved, and it wasn't how she felt now. But anyone who was deeply grieving deserved respect; their fallen Clanmate deserved respect. The cream-furred she-cat kept quiet and still, her body hunched and her jaw tight: right up until the moment that Merrystalk made a shocking declaration. SkyClan. Wrenwhisker felt her body electrified in a surge of potent anger and she was suddenly on her feet, her mottled tail whipping back and forth. "SkyClan did this?" She asked in harsh tones, mostly rhetorically: Merrystalk had spoken clearly enough, and it was obvious he wasn't entirely certain. "Those kittypets came onto WindClan's land, into our tunnels, and killed them?" It was unconscionable, unbelievable. Who among the SkyClanners was even capable of navigating the tunnels? Who held enough malice in their heart to slay a young warrior over...over nothing? I came here to get away from this kind of behavior. thought Wrenwhisker. She tasted bitterness on her tongue. I thought I'd left it behind.