Stoatstream Stoatstream
In every rosewater rivulet that runs from you.
In every rosewater rivulet that runs from you.
ShadowClan
Thief
SOMETHING SACRED
HIDES IN EVERY DROP OF DEW
Stoatstream didn't think after the very first gathering that it could go any worse. While there was no blood spilt there, the announcement of death on the maws of the leaders made her stomach knot, but amidst her own horror, did another cat come to mind.
It wasn't like she had always been buddy-buddy with Mothbite; she was frankly a brat towards him growing up. But knowing now how young he is and holding such a title as Night Guard felt so heavy for a cat who was just as much grappling with clan life as the rest of them. She couldn't forget then the patrol where she and Mothbite had stumbled into a kind molly, Serpentberry, one who regarded her so kindly and joined her in light-hearted banter. But it was impossible to shake the weight of the conversation she and Mothbite had there on the Thunderpath.
There was some prying and eavesdropping (as well as she could), but it was enough to learn Serpentberry had been important to the tom, more than that even. She hadn't recognised it then, but there was a sullen look behind Mothbite's gaze while he and the medicine cat talked. Stoatstream could not possibly understand the extent of what happened in the colony, but she understood enough that she wanted to ensure Mothbite was not left in the dark. It was the least he deserved, even if her heart twisted at the idea.
On the return to camp, Stoatstream had managed to quietly ask Snowdropheart to accompany her. It felt like a daunting task, one too heavy for her alone when the molly herself was grappling with nearly losing her own father, but she hoped it would allow the two to talk. She wasn't sure how much respite she could give, but she didn't want Mothbite to handle the news alone, not when most of the clan would brazenly announce the loss, or leave him in the dark.
As the two white mollys entered camp, the younger scanned the place, tail flicking behind her nervously, gaze flicking about the camp in search of the rusted tom. She clenched her jaw as she noticed him distracted on the other side of camp. Stoatstream darted towards him, trying to keep her voice steady. "Mothbite?" She spoke, her voice quiet as she looked up to the guard. "Uhm, can you come with us, please? I wanted to talk to you about something."
She knew it would not be an easy conversation, and maybe he would have either heard it from Loonstar or someone else. But the fact that it was told to the whole gathering first and not to the cats of Shadowclan, who cared about Serpentberry? She hoped it was the kinder option than not being told at all.
It wasn't like she had always been buddy-buddy with Mothbite; she was frankly a brat towards him growing up. But knowing now how young he is and holding such a title as Night Guard felt so heavy for a cat who was just as much grappling with clan life as the rest of them. She couldn't forget then the patrol where she and Mothbite had stumbled into a kind molly, Serpentberry, one who regarded her so kindly and joined her in light-hearted banter. But it was impossible to shake the weight of the conversation she and Mothbite had there on the Thunderpath.
There was some prying and eavesdropping (as well as she could), but it was enough to learn Serpentberry had been important to the tom, more than that even. She hadn't recognised it then, but there was a sullen look behind Mothbite's gaze while he and the medicine cat talked. Stoatstream could not possibly understand the extent of what happened in the colony, but she understood enough that she wanted to ensure Mothbite was not left in the dark. It was the least he deserved, even if her heart twisted at the idea.
On the return to camp, Stoatstream had managed to quietly ask Snowdropheart to accompany her. It felt like a daunting task, one too heavy for her alone when the molly herself was grappling with nearly losing her own father, but she hoped it would allow the two to talk. She wasn't sure how much respite she could give, but she didn't want Mothbite to handle the news alone, not when most of the clan would brazenly announce the loss, or leave him in the dark.
As the two white mollys entered camp, the younger scanned the place, tail flicking behind her nervously, gaze flicking about the camp in search of the rusted tom. She clenched her jaw as she noticed him distracted on the other side of camp. Stoatstream darted towards him, trying to keep her voice steady. "Mothbite?" She spoke, her voice quiet as she looked up to the guard. "Uhm, can you come with us, please? I wanted to talk to you about something."
She knew it would not be an easy conversation, and maybe he would have either heard it from Loonstar or someone else. But the fact that it was told to the whole gathering first and not to the cats of Shadowclan, who cared about Serpentberry? She hoped it was the kinder option than not being told at all.
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YOU'RE MORE THAN STAINED GLASS
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YOU'RE THE LIGHT THAT COMES THROUGH
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STOATSTREAM She/Her, Shadowclan Thief, 14 moons old.
A slender white cat with lilac markings and dark blue eyes.
Mentored by Sablestar // mentoring none
Sibling to Fleafire and Monsterpaw
Timberfrost x Oleander (Gen 3) / mated to none
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK, PAWSPEAK
[/COLOR] penned by Pheo ↛ phoenixwashere on discord, feel free to dm for plots.