Private Dark Forest shadows in the dark // froststorm

[Coalstrike Coalstrike]

That's the price you pay
Leave behind your heart and cast away
Just another product of today
Rather be the hunter than the prey
And you're standing on the edge, face up

.

Darkness... Nothing but darkness greeted him. Yet even in that void, there was something else. The agony that had torn through his body moments ago was gone. For a fleeting, foolish instant, he dared to hope that Cicadabuzz had somehow healed him. But then reality struck, the bite Wolfpack had given him had shattered more than flesh. Healing could not undo that. Where... Was he? His massive form lingered on the ground, processing the chaos that had brought him here. His amber eyes burned like embers in the gloom, filled with anger, hatred, and the cold certainty that nothing had unfolded as it should.

At last, he moved. One immense paw at a time, he pressed himself upright until he stood, head swiveling to take in the strange surroundings. Unknown territory. Was this the place Sablestar drew his power from? The realm of the dead? His torn ear twitched, whiskers quivering, before a low snarl ripped from his throat.

He was not alone.

" Who goes there? " His voice was a low, rumbling drawl, sharp enough to cut through the darkness. " Do me a favor and stop skulking in the shadows. " His tail flicked once, his eyes glowing faintly in the gloom. His bloodied, matted fur clung to him, the bite from Wolfpack across his neck stark and undeniable, a killing blow. And yet, it had not ended him. Wolfpack had merely delivered a death more fitting than any foolish suggestion of mercy, any death-dealing plants, any chance at a quiet end.

Coalstrike did not die quietly.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

69 MOONS

𖧧

DARK FOREST

𖧧

SONG

𖧧

bio

 

[Froststorm]

That fog-bound silver tom, as always, wandered his forest aimlessly. A faint trail of icy water sapped from his pelt, trailing behind him as his fog rolled about his paws. It was quiet there, as always; the occasional fool dragged there would shake the silence, but they would return to their dull little lives as always.

However, it seemed today was different.

Having been dead for so long, Froststorm could identify each one of his peers by scent, the strength of their blood, bitter or foul, or herbaceous for those few medicine cats bound to their starless home. But this? A scent he did not know, a presence he had never felt before. Dark eyes narrowed, changing the direction of his pacing, approaching the new form within his forest.

Froststorm blinked slowly as he approached, humming to himself quietly, Shadowclan scent. Had one of Sablestar's warriors perished?

And as he pressed towards the scent, the visage of a dark pelted tom came to view. His eyes widened, while it was a cat he had not met himself, there was no doubt the huge tom was none other than-

"Coalstrike."

Froststorm's voice, crackling with each breath as a smile spread across his maw like ice under paw.

"A shame Shadowclan has come to lose such a dutiful warrior, but you are just as welcome in our midsts."

The silver tom approached, opting away from his usual creeping and sneering; there was no need for riddles or confusion. Coalstrike deserved as well a greeting as any other cat in his ranks.

"You may not know me, but my protégé Fleafire has spoken the world of you."

It had not been the first time he bore witness to the tom, though it was brief, during Jadethorn's kitting. To know the dutiful tom had helped sire the next generation of strong Shadowclan warriors would have been enough to earn Coalstrike respect from Froststorm alone.

"I am Froststorm, to answer your question. And any others you may have, we have all eternity after all."

He wondered if Coal knew this was his fate now, to wander the starless plane for as long as the clans existed, that his torn-out neck wound would be his new permanent adornment to his pelt.

​

FROSTSTORM He/Him, Dark Forest Warrior, ??? moons.
A gruff, silver tom with frostbite scarring and a persistent fog following everywhere he goes.
mentored by Mourningmist // mentored Deadwood & Fleafire, mentoring no one
Companion to Fleafire & Dustystar
NPC x NPC / parent to Beekit, Stormkit, Deadwood & Fleafire / mated to Honeyfluff

"SPEECH"

// 'THOUGHTS' // ATTACK
penned by Pheo ↛ phoenixwashere on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[Coalstrike Coalstrike]

That's the price you pay
Leave behind your heart and cast away
Just another product of today
Rather be the hunter than the prey
And you're standing on the edge, face up

.

The fact that the other tom knew his name only caused his eyes to narrow, a low flick of his tail betraying his irritation. To be summoned so casually, so confidently, without even the decency of a name in return, disrespectful, presumptuous. His patience had always been short in life, and death had not dulled it. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his massive head to face the stranger, every movement coiled and measured, like a predator deciding whether to strike.

He listened as the other spoke, his fall, his death. So this one had heard of him, then. That much was clear. The name Coalstrike carried weight, even in this starless abyss. A faint smirk tugged at his muzzle, though it never reached his eyes. Welcome in our midst, the other had said. The words hung there, strange, echoing in this void that felt neither alive nor dead. He shifted his gaze, golden eyes sweeping across the expanse around them. There was no horizon here, no familiar shapes, no stars. Just the endless, suffocating dark. A sky that wasn't a sky. A world stripped of sound and warmth and meaning. It reminded him of himself, cold, functional, stripped bare of anything that didn't serve survival.

" Hm.. " The sound left him like a growl under his breath, low and thoughtful. So this was the place that granted leaders their lives... How fitting that it reeked of emptiness. His tail lashed once behind him, restless. " A fine gift for them to claim from a place so lifeless... " he muttered, half to himself. When his gaze returned to the other tom, it was sharper, heavier. He studied Froststorm with the scrutiny of a warrior sizing up an enemy, or perhaps a test subject. Fleafire's name had been spoken, and that shifted the weight of the conversation. Fleafire, the child that could have been... How could this ghost know her?

There was a flicker of calculation behind his eyes, something both protective and possessive. His voice was quieter when it came again, though it carried the same commanding force that had silenced warriors in life.
" Froststorm. " he echoed, tasting the name. " A fine name. I am certain you wear it better than most would. " A pause. The faintest curl of disdain in his tone. " Few earn the strength to make their name mean something. " His gaze darkened, and the question that followed cut through the still air like claws on stone.

" ... You know of Fleafire... " he said, voice low, almost a growl. " How? "

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

69 MOONS

𖧧

DARK FOREST

𖧧

SONG

𖧧

bio