Private Backwritten GOLDWING ANGEL ☼ ] STARCLAN LIVES [

[GOLDENROAR]

The hike here had been shared in silence, for the most part. Dimmingsun was at his flank until he knew he had to step in further on his own. In a different time, that's where he stopped and let Dusty proceed alone. Aqua eyes focus on the stone, and he frowns gently. Is this it? He glances over his shoulder towards where Dimmingsun was watching from, as if for moral support, but he looks forward and settles down anyways.

It's cool to the touch, cold even, and while it shocks him, it's nothing compared to when he opens his eyes. It's dark. He's surrounded by it, the trickle of stars from high above. Flashing pelts of silver that begin to form in front of him as he slowly pushes himself up. Aqua eyes search the figures in front of him. He can't really recognize them, not until they approach him. Part of him is still doubtful. That this is a dream.

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

• "speech"
  // slightly backwritten around the time of the ceremony meeting / not long after the skirmish!
  // you all know who you are. no order until the last three :]
  

• 

• GOLDENROAR he/him, windclan deputy, fourty four 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 laevatein ↛ laevatein_arx8 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  
  ☆ mini by tasmagoric, ref image by laevatein (yours truly!)

 

[Molewhisker Molewhisker]

————— Does the wind feel a gladness at the work that it's done?

The chimaera had yet to fully adjust to life in the stars, silvery pelts and a place of no pain. Prey bountiful and the cats polite; it wasn't Windclan, but it was comfortable. Nothing could mute the longing for their home, the sensation of claws in dirt and the safety of a hovel. Even in their death, they longed for the confined, but even more for their friends.

And so it seemed, he had arrived just on time.

A sorrowful smile spread across the maw of Molewhisker, seeing the golden pelt and confused eyes of the tom who had given and lost so much for his clan. They were the first to approach, tilting their head as Goldenroar got to his senses. "My friend, not how I thought we would have met again, but hello, Goldenroar." It gave the tom a moment more to adjust, glancing for a breath to their fellow Starclanners, before speaking with more conviction.

"You're here to be gifted your lives, Goldenroar. And while I would have rather been in camp to see you return home with such merit, the gift I bestow upon you is a reminder that fury and rage are not always what a leader must bring forth. A leader must treat their fellow cat with grace, knowing that all share life and flesh. One must know when to be the kinder soul. For that, I give you the life of Mercy."

They took a breath before meeting the soon-to-be-leader's gaze. "Hindsight will not save the cats lost; there is no foresight you can receive now to turn back what is lost." Molewhisker looks away for a moment before sighing. "But neither will marring pelts of your fellow warrior revive the dead."

Their gaze is hardened, but holds no upset. "Learn from the past, learn not to martyr those who are lost for the sake of some need to prove your strength. Any cat can unsheath its claws. Anyone can bring a life to an end. A leader's true strength is to know when to be merciful."

Their hardened gaze softened, another smile across their maw as they padded closer again to the tom. Molewhisker had to stand taller to reach the forehead of the tom, pressing their nose to soft fur. Smile widening across their maw, as they spoke again, softly. "Give mercy where cats like I were never given the chance, old friend." The chimaera bowed their head to a leader they would never get to follow, but would respect all the same as one of their clanmates in life.

Finally, it stepped away, allowing for the next cat to give their gift, Molewhisker watching on with pride. Windclan would heal in the end; it would just take time, and Goldenroar would lead them to that peace.

——— I won't go making mountains

out of molehills anymore. ———

• 
  Molewhisker
  ✦—Windclan tunneller Starclan Warrior | 29 moons
  ✦—They/It
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A soft-spoken, small, red and blue chimaera with overly long whiskers.
  #9D9D9D

 

[CREEKSTAR]

In truth he should not be here. He had said that Dustystar was the first and last time he would help WindClan. However, the molly had lost her lives rather quickly. It unnerved him. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he bore the blood of WindClan within him? If only his family were in Starclan, but they were long forgotten. It was a rather lonely experience, yet it was unavoidable. He was an ancient cat. More specifically the ancient leader (one of them at least) of RiverClan.

However, that was of little importance here.

What was important was giving a life to Dustystar's successor. This time I swear it, this will be the last time I help WindClan. You were chosen by Dustystar and while my time with her was short... She chose you to lead if anything happened. My duty is to her and as such you are too. I will not aid your successor.

Blue eyes have long shifted their gaze from Goldenroar and Molewhisker. He feels a bit strange to watch two clanmates (well one former) interact with one another so intimately. By looking away he can give them some semblance of privacy, although it does nothing to avoid hearing what is being said. The wisdom only makes him ache for days long past. The time when he too was greeted by familiar faces when receiving nine lives himself. Now... Now no one save for Seabriar.

"Hello Goldenroar. While we have never met, I had given Dustystar a life, and have been watching Windclan here and there for some time now." It shouldn't be alarming. The clans have been aware of StarClan for some time now. They had to be somewhat aware that they were being watched. Anyhow, the blue tabby quickly introduces himself. "My name is Creekstar, former leader of RiverClan." Unfortunately for Goldenroar, Creekstar doesn't share his ties with WindClan.

Blue paws step forward coming to a halt a tail length away from the soon to be WindClan leader. "The life I will give you will be the same I have given to Dustystar. A life of forgiveness. Forgiveness for yourself and others." More to yourself for now. I've watched as your clanmates hissed at your for what happened with SkyClan. Knowing how things have always been... Worse is yet to come. "The forest can be a cruel place. It can bring out the worst in others, in who we cherish, and even ourselves... However, we can't allow ourselves to drown in our hatred, spite, or bitterness. If you act in hate or bitterness, your clan will suffer. If you drown yourself in sorrow they will suffer as well, but that's okay. It's normal. A leader is not unfeeling. Be kind to yourself as you learn and grow as a leader."

The distance is closed between the pair as Creekstar presses their nose to the top of Goldenroar's head. "I hope your time as leader is a pleasant one," he whispers.

With his duty fulfilled he takes his place among the others who have shown up, not sparing another glance at Goldenroar. If there were to met again, then it would be when the tom lost a life. When that time arrives... I will be free. I will no longer watch WindClan as intently and instead focus my attention to RiverClan. I'll try and become friends with Shellkit. We'll watch the camp together and talk about all the flowers in our clan. I'll even bring that grump Seabriar with me. The three of us laughing together wouldn't be so bad.

 

[CREAMPAW CREAMPAW]

placeholder :p

 

[Breezewing]

It had been generations since Breezewing had shown her star-covered face to give life to a new leader, a general in times of necessity and the guiding words of those that needed it. She had been watching, interacting very little since the new clans had formed back in the home that she had watched the others long ago quickly scatter from. She looks upon the soon-to-be star-cladden leader, ready to be bestowed with the gift of the nine lives that so many in history had yearned for, that so many knew not what it meant, looking only at the pros of leadership while ignoring or simply being oblivious to the cons.

It was a clanmate that stepped forward first, a familiar face to Goldenroar, one of the more recent members within the ranks of StarClan, and silently the former WIndClanner watched with interest as Molewhisker gave his life, breathing it into the air before nose was pressed against forehead and Goldenroar was at two. It was a RiverClanner next, a cat ancient from the clans long before they had departed. Though she did not know the story of this one she knew his name, and carefully she watched as he breathed his own life, as he pressed against forehead and Goldenroar was at three. SkyClanner next - what a fitting clan given the mean of which Goldenroar had this crown forcefully placed upon his head - and soon three became four.

It was Breezewing who moved forward next, soft smile placed carefully upon her features as she carefully dipped her head to the other. "You don't know me but I'm a WindClanner, one of the many that had run the lands that you now call home long before everyone came once more. My name is Breezewing, a warrior of WindClan of the past." She takes but a small moment to pause, a small moment to let things sink in for the other, for though they never met in life he was still a clanmate of hers, as all WindClanners were. It was a lot to take in, she knew, but it was still something that must be done.

"As the three before me, I'm giving you a life. Use it as you will - as you must - but use it for your clan." Another step forward, close enough to reach out when the time would come to bestow up on him his life, though far enough away that she was not touching him. "I give you the life of bravery. Sometimes bravery and stupidity get mixed, use this life to be brave and do the hard things that must be done. The toughest of decisions are usually the ones that require the most bravery to do what is right and not simply what is wanted."

She moves forward once more, feet stretching as she reached to place her nose upon the forehead of the other. With the words that had been spoken into the air and carefully shoved into the body of the other with this final act, she moved back to her spot amongst the others.

Goldenroar was now at five.

 

[HUSH]

Hush waits at the edge of the gathering, where the dark thins into starlight and the stars themselves seem to pause between pulses. They do not rush forward when the first spirits step forth. This is not their moment yet. They stand still, as they always have, listening—to the cadence of breath that is not breath, to the soft gravity that pulls souls toward their places. One life is given. Molewhisker. Then Creekstar. Then Creampaw. Each offering leaves a faint disturbance in the air, like ripples spreading across still water. Hush feels them pass through the space they occupy, brushing against their fur like wind through tall grass. They acknowledge them without comment. Endings and beginnings have always moved around Hush like this—unannounced, inevitable.

When Breezewing steps back, something within them shifts. Not dramatically, but something opens, subtle like a held breath finally released. Hush knows, then, that it is time. They step forward. Starlight gathers around them without spectacle, outlining their form in soft, muted silver. They do not glow so much as they exist more clearly, as though the dark has decided to make room. Their paws touch the stone with reverence, not awe. They have stood on colder ground. They have laid down on earth knowing it would be the last thing to hold them.

Goldenroar is before them—tall, yes, but still smaller than the weight he is about to carry. Hush studies him quietly. They do not search for doubt; they assume it is there. Doubt always is. Acceptance is not its absence, but its companion. Hush meets his gaze. Their eyes are calm, deep, carrying no judgment and no promise of mercy. They step closer. The space between them feels deliberate.

"I give you a life of acceptance."

The words do not ring, do not echo. They settle into the space between them. "Acceptance is not peace," Hush continues. "It is not comfort. It is not forgiveness, either—from others or from yourself. Acceptance is the understanding that what is, cannot always be changed. Only carried. That some endings arrive no matter how carefully you plan, how fiercely you love, or how well you lead." As they speak, faint impressions seem to hang onto their words: the stillness before impact, the weightlessness of a body that no longer answers, the quiet certainty of a final breath leaving without struggle. Hush does not shy away from these truths, and they do not soften them.

"You will lose cats you thought would walk beside you to the end. You will make choices that close doors forever. You will stand in the aftermath of things you could not stop." Their gaze does not waver. "This life will not spare you that." Hush lifts their head slightly. "What it will give you is the strength to remain when the moment demands stillness. To acknowledge an ending without being devoured by it. To bow your head to fate in recognition rather than surrender." A breath of pause. "You cannot outrun every shadow. You are not meant to." They lean in, close enough that Goldenroar might feel the cool pull of the space Hush inhabits, like night air against warm fur.

"With this life," Hush murmurs, "you will learn that survival is not always about escape. Sometimes it is about staying, and standing. Letting grief pass through you without hollowing you out. Letting joy exist even when you know it will end. Accepting that there is no happiness without sorrow, no love without suffering." Their nose brushes his forehead—light, fleeting, a touch that carries weight rather than warmth. "Accept the path behind you," Hush says softly. "Accept the one ahead. And when the end finally finds you—as it finds all of us—accept it without fear."

 

[Bluebirdkit]

ʚBLUEBIRDKITɞ

✧˖°. STARCLAN ⋆˙⟡

She is not the first nor the last to approach the golden tom. She simply is. Were it anybody else, she might have refused to be one of the spirits present today, but for Goldy... for Goldy she would do this. Her time with the tom had been brief when alive, yet it was all she had, it was her whole life. Now, she will give back to him.

Star-speckled paws move towards the tom in silence, only meeting his eyes once she's close enough to touch - though she refrains from doing so just yet.

"Hello Goldy."

Copper eyes meet aquamarine and a strange sorrow reflects in her gaze. She had watched Dustystar die and now it is time for WindClan to move on without her, no matter how much it hurts. Time doesn't stop just because one cat wills it so.

"While it may have not been long, my life was filled with love and joy, from our fellow clanmates and yourself included. I am here to repay you for your kindness and companionship."

Bluebirdkit sits down slowly and deliberately, not rushing what shouldn't be rushed. Her tail wraps around her paws, though they still peek through her semi-transparent pelt - the price of being of StarClan.

"I give you the life of Strength. Know how to apply it and when."

Her eyes blink slowly at the soon-to-be leader, letting him accept her words before continuing.

"Strength isn't all about who is the bigger and tougher cat - sometimes there's strength in letting go, sometimes there's strength in defeat. I trust you will know what to do and will not rush into unnecessary danger just to prove yourself."

Then and only then does she stand up again, brushing her tail over the other's paws.

"You don't need to prove yourself - this place you now hold was given to you out of trust. Have faith in yourself, Goldy."

She stretches taller, waiting for Goldenroar to lower his head towards her small form. As he does so low enough for her to reach, Bluebirdkit touches her nose with the tom in silence.

Nothing spectacular happens, not to the golden tom's knowledge at least, and Bluebirdkit turns away without saying another word and joins the others once again. Her task had been completed, her life given. Now it is up to Goldenroar to use it wisely.