ThunderClan: Life Before 2020's Fire

[Dovekit12]

Originally Posted by GLaDOS

Graypaw padded into the camp with two mice dangling from his jaws. For once in the past few weeks he actually went out to hunt. The tom placed his kill in the pile and glanced around the clearing. He saw Mosskit sitting by herself and decided to go talk to her.

Mosskit saw Greypaw walking over and ran over to him. "This is my first time out of the Nursery," she bragged. "I'm gonna be a big strong Warrior!"

[Madelaine]

Originally Posted by Dovekit12

Mosskit saw Greypaw walking over and ran over to him. "This is my first time out of the Nursery," she bragged. "I'm gonna be a big strong Warrior!"

Graypaw looked at the kit with a smile. She reminded him a lot of his little brother, wo he had recently met. "Youll love out here in the camp.", he replied.

[Dovekit12]

Originally Posted by GLaDOS

Graypaw looked at the kit with a smile. She reminded him a lot of his little brother, wo he had recently met. "Youll love out here in the camp.", he replied.

“It’s so big out here!” Mosskit said excitedly. “Can you show he around,” she said a bit shyly.

[Madelaine]

Originally Posted by Dovekit12

“It’s so big out here!” Mosskit said excitedly. “Can you show he around,” she said a bit shyly.

Knowing this might get his mind off the riverclan apprentice Sunpaw he smiled and dipped his head. "Yeah of course I can show you around. Where fo you want to go first?", he asked.

[RedHead]

He was not looking forward to this conversation.
He still had fresh scars that were slowly healing to remind him of the little “throw down” that had gone down between his best friend and the medicine cat of his clan. He knew it wasn’t right, but at this point, Flintspirit was too overextended and tired to care if he felt upset and angry at Tallmarsh. Because he did. And he had every reason to. He would never lay a claw on another’s clanmate, for fear of hurting them, or worse. Therefore, when trying to break up the fight between two important felines in his life, he’d kept his claws sheathed, yet had suffered many blows in return. From the both of them.
But he’d promised Passionstar he’d talk with Tallmarsh. The leader himself had had a nasty confrontation from the aggressive molly, and Flintspirit had offered to talk to her and gain her side of the story to report to Passionstar. He knew the leader would be fair, but he also figured there would have to be some punishment inflicted. At least Flintspirit hoped so. He knew that was wrong, but the dark-furred tomcat wasn’t one to let things go too easily, especially when they were things that damaged him. Particularly his pride.
Stepping into the medicine den, Flintspirit surprisingly, yet gladly, found it mostly empty. Tallmarsh herself didn’t look busy, which he praised Starclan for. This wasn’t going to be a friendly conversation, and he’d rather not have most clanmemebers listening in. “Tallmarsh.” He announced his presence, straightening up and holding his head high, in a regal, leader-like stance that was not often exhibited by the deputy. He usually leaned down towards his companions to show his interest in talking to them, his eyes warm and playful and stance relaxed. But Flintspirit could be scary and intimidating when he needed to. His usual playful green gaze was replaced with a steady, hard gaze that any apprentice might whither under, and his stance was rigid and firm as he looked down at the medicine cat. “I believe you and I need to have a talk.” His voice was clipped, with a small harsh tone to it. Any cat looking at him now could tell that Flintspirit was not feeling flirty and playful as usual, I’m fact, this side of him rarely shown through. But he was not afraid to intimidate others. This she-cat has wounded his pride and his clan, as well as his fur. She didn’t deserve his respect and kindness in the given moment. He’d purposely avoided having his wounds checked over by her out of sole stubbornness. It hurt, but it hurt less than his pride, so that was something.

@Delta
[sorry it’s long, flint’s having a bit of a hard week X3]

[Madelaine]

Originally Posted by Delta

Tallmarsh just continued pressing the cobwebs to the young tom's neck. She was afraid that he would bleed out if she took it off. She shook her head. She was about to say something, but her breath caught in her throat when the young tom fell asleep. She shook him with her free paw, her heart racing in her throat. Littlepaw! Littlepaw, I need you to wake up!" When he didn't wake up, she put her head to his chest. He was breathing, but it was extremely shallow. He's still alive. When the apprentice's eyes finally fluttered open, Tallmarsh breathed a sigh of relief. At his question, she went silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Did she tell him the truth? Or did she lie? She decided to lay down next to Littlepaw, still holding the cobwebs on his neck. "Do you have a family?" she finally asked. If he died, she wanted his family to be here for him.

Littlepaw shook his head. "They didn't want me.", he meowed. He had been in foster care, but hos foster mother didn't exactly want to take care of him. He lived in his birth parents shadows all his life never really feeling like he belonged. He didn't want to die, but he couldn't help but think that this was his destiny. Littlepaw looked at her, his breathing was going slower and slower. The apprentice couldn't move his paws and felt weaker then he was already. That was when his brething came to a quick stop. His heart not pumping at all and the blood in his vains went cold.

[Freesia]

Originally Posted by RedHead

He was not looking forward to this conversation.
He still had fresh scars that were slowly healing to remind him of the little “throw down” that had gone down between his best friend and the medicine cat of his clan. He knew it wasn’t right, but at this point, Flintspirit was too overextended and tired to care if he felt upset and angry at Tallmarsh. Because he did. And he had every reason to. He would never lay a claw on another’s clanmate, for fear of hurting them, or worse. Therefore, when trying to break up the fight between two important felines in his life, he’d kept his claws sheathed, yet had suffered many blows in return. From the both of them.
But he’d promised Passionstar he’d talk with Tallmarsh. The leader himself had had a nasty confrontation from the aggressive molly, and Flintspirit had offered to talk to her and gain her side of the story to report to Passionstar. He knew the leader would be fair, but he also figured there would have to be some punishment inflicted. At least Flintspirit hoped so. He knew that was wrong, but the dark-furred tomcat wasn’t one to let things go too easily, especially when they were things that damaged him. Particularly his pride.
Stepping into the medicine den, Flintspirit surprisingly, yet gladly, found it mostly empty. Tallmarsh herself didn’t look busy, which he praised Starclan for. This wasn’t going to be a friendly conversation, and he’d rather not have most clanmemebers listening in. “Tallmarsh.” He announced his presence, straightening up and holding his head high, in a regal, leader-like stance that was not often exhibited by the deputy. He usually leaned down towards his companions to show his interest in talking to them, his eyes warm and playful and stance relaxed. But Flintspirit could be scary and intimidating when he needed to. His usual playful green gaze was replaced with a steady, hard gaze that any apprentice might whither under, and his stance was rigid and firm as he looked down at the medicine cat. “I believe you and I need to have a talk.” His voice was clipped, with a small harsh tone to it. Any cat looking at him now could tell that Flintspirit was not feeling flirty and playful as usual, I’m fact, this side of him rarely shown through. But he was not afraid to intimidate others. This she-cat has wounded his pride and his clan, as well as his fur. She didn’t deserve his respect and kindness in the given moment. He’d purposely avoided having his wounds checked over by her out of sole stubbornness. It hurt, but it hurt less than his pride, so that was something.

@Delta
[sorry it’s long, flint’s having a bit of a hard week X3]

((hhh mOOD tall's had it p rough too lol))

Tallmarsh had rarely left her den since the recent battle. She had good reason, too. Not only did she have deep, stinging wounds and a constant headache, but she also got horrible looks of hatred or worse, disappointment, whenever her Clanmates saw her. It was no secret what she did--she took a life, one of the highest offenses that could be committed by a medicine cat. Not to mention it was Passionstar whose life she took. He had more than one life, but that did nothing to relieve the gravity of the situation. He was her friend, her superior, and she had killed him. Everyone was disgusted with her, even those who fought on her side. So she had opted to stay in her den as much a she could, only going out to relieve herself or get food. She always kept her eyes firmly fixed on the ground, trying to make herself as small as possible as she slunk to wherever she was going--a harsh opposite of her usual prideful posture. Arguably the worst part of keeping to herself was being alone with her thoughts all day. Her mind kept replaying Passionstar's words, his look of betrayal and fury after she killed him. She knew she would never forget that. She was a traitor now, something she could never clear her name of. She had destroyed her reputation, and it would never be the same. She was no longer the quick-tempered yet respectable warrior-turned-medicine cat that she was before. She blamed everything on herself. And truly, it was all her fault. She couldn't shift the blame to the Dark Forest, she couldn't try to convince everyone that she was manipulated. Because she agreed. She consciously decided to kill one of her only friends.

So she was curled up in the nest furthest from the entrance, with her back towards Flintspirit. She had playing the battle over in her head for the hundredth time when a familiar scent and voice came into her den. She bristled sharply. From the tone of his voice, the deputy wasn't here for a friendly chat. She sat up slowly, the cut on her shoulder and her pounding head screaming in protest. She remained facing the wall, beginning to tremble slightly. This is all your fault, you coward. You hurt Flintspirit. You hurt Fuzzrush. You hurt Passionstar. Hesitantly, she stood and turned to the deputy. She was met with a frightening sight. Flintspirit was noticeably angry, and he was very good at being intimidating. The medicine cat's one good eye widened. She had patched up her other eye, which was covered with cobwebs, along with the cut on her opposite cheek. She had only ever seen the tom acting his usual flirty, dorky self. It was shocking to see him stoic and dead serious. I caused this. She lowered her head and dropped her shoulders, assuming a very passive posture as her eye flitted over her paws. "...I know," she said. Her tone was breathy, more of a whisper than anything. She hated feeling like this, feeling like a coward who only cared about herself and was only ashamed of her actions when scolded--but that's what it was like. She hadn't realized the fault in her actions until Passionstar pointed everything out in his fury. She was a coward. She didn't want to die. She'd begged Passionstar, Please don't kill me! I can heal! like she really deserved to live after what she did. Her right eye stung. She'd forgotten what it was like to have a major injury, since she hadn't fought for many moons before now.

[RedHead]

Originally Posted by Delta

((hhh mOOD tall's had it p rough too lol))

Tallmarsh had rarely left her den since the recent battle. She had good reason, too. Not only did she have deep, stinging wounds and a constant headache, but she also got horrible looks of hatred or worse, disappointment, whenever her Clanmates saw her. It was no secret what she did--she took a life, one of the highest offenses that could be committed by a medicine cat. Not to mention it was Passionstar whose life she took. He had more than one life, but that did nothing to relieve the gravity of the situation. He was her friend, her superior, and she had killed him. Everyone was disgusted with her, even those who fought on her side. So she had opted to stay in her den as much a she could, only going out to relieve herself or get food. She always kept her eyes firmly fixed on the ground, trying to make herself as small as possible as she slunk to wherever she was going--a harsh opposite of her usual prideful posture. Arguably the worst part of keeping to herself was being alone with her thoughts all day. Her mind kept replaying Passionstar's words, his look of betrayal and fury after she killed him. She knew she would never forget that. She was a traitor now, something she could never clear her name of. She had destroyed her reputation, and it would never be the same. She was no longer the quick-tempered yet respectable warrior-turned-medicine cat that she was before. She blamed everything on herself. And truly, it was all her fault. She couldn't shift the blame to the Dark Forest, she couldn't try to convince everyone that she was manipulated. Because she agreed. She consciously decided to kill one of her only friends.

So she was curled up in the nest furthest from the entrance, with her back towards Flintspirit. She had playing the battle over in her head for the hundredth time when a familiar scent and voice came into her den. She bristled sharply. From the tone of his voice, the deputy wasn't here for a friendly chat. She sat up slowly, the cut on her shoulder and her pounding head screaming in protest. She remained facing the wall, beginning to tremble slightly. This is all your fault, you coward. You hurt Flintspirit. You hurt Fuzzrush. You hurt Passionstar. Hesitantly, she stood and turned to the deputy. She was met with a frightening sight. Flintspirit was noticeably angry, and he was very good at being intimidating. The medicine cat's one good eye widened. She had patched up her other eye, which was covered with cobwebs, along with the cut on her opposite cheek. She had only ever seen the tom acting his usual flirty, dorky self. It was shocking to see him stoic and dead serious. I caused this. She lowered her head and dropped her shoulders, assuming a very passive posture as her eye flitted over her paws. "...I know," she said. Her tone was breathy, more of a whisper than anything. She hated feeling like this, feeling like a coward who only cared about herself and was only ashamed of her actions when scolded--but that's what it was like. She hadn't realized the fault in her actions until Passionstar pointed everything out in his fury. She was a coward. She didn't want to die. She'd begged Passionstar, Please don't kill me! I can heal! like she really deserved to live after what she did. Her right eye stung. She'd forgotten what it was like to have a major injury, since she hadn't fought for many moons before now.

[Aww Tall </3 cherry is going to try and make her feel better]

He clenched his teeth in frustration as Tallmarsh turned to him, a very passive, submissive stance overtaking her frail frame. Flintspirit absolutely hated seeing others look submissive and... frankly, scared. Especially when they were in a physical state such as Tallmarsh’s. He knew she’d sustained her fair share of injuries. From Fuzzrush, and he knew how hard that feline could deliver a blow. He’d witnessed it first-hand. And from Passionstar. And Flintspirit always knew that the ginger tomcat would never go down without a fight. And a good fight at that.
Flintspirit still couldn’t believe that Tallmarsh had taken one of their leader’s lives. For a medicine cat to do that was.. well... unheard of. Even for a former warrior like Tallmarsh.

Upon hearing the molly’s tone though, Flintspirit’s whole composure visibly deflated. His shoulders sagged, his tail flopping to the ground in defeat. He kept his head high, but any cat could see how tired he was. His fur was ragged and in tangles, and his frame was thin underneath all of his thick fur. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t try to intimidate Tallmarsh into submission. She was hurting to, he understood that. He understood what happened when a cat felt they did something terribly wrong, he felt it. All. The. Time. Especially when they’d hurt someone else. He knew she regretted it. He could see it in her eyes. If it were any other cat he were facing, any other cat who had mercilessly attacked their clanmates, Flintspirit would have no problem standing his ground and letting his untamed, furious side show through. No problem at all.
But he saw himself in Tallmarsh’s green eyes. He empathized with her, knew exactly how she was feeling. And he couldn’t stay mad at her. He just wanted to make her understand, and make sure she didn’t feel alone. Because he had been alone.

With a sigh, he locked eyes with her, tiredness present in his body yet somehow green eyes still so full of life. “I’m not going to scold you Tallmarsh. That was the original plan, but I can see you already are scolding yourself enough.” He sat down, flinching as a wound on his haunches got stretched with the movement. “I know how you feel.” He kept his eyes on her, not caring if she looked away or not. “You feel alone. You feel like an absolute coward. You’re blaming yourself, for more wrongs than you committed because there’s no end.” He paused, his voice cracking in the slightest. “There’s no end to the blame you feel obliged to take.” Blinking slowly, he stopped speaking for a moment, trying to decide how to continue. He’d never shared with anyone what had happened to him in his past. How he’d blamed himself for all of it. And it was still very hard to talk about.
But Tallmarsh was his friend. And she was hurting. If there’s one thing that Flintspirit knew, it was that words could hurt, but they could also help, if used in the correct way. “You hurt Fuzzrush. You hurt me. You killed Passionstar. There are going to be consequences.” He shifted his gaze for a moment, sighing and shaking his head. “But it’s not all your fault. There were many cats who hurt others, many cats who killed. And I bet you were manipulated, convinced, just like them.” He closed his eyes tight, hurt evident in his voice. “And in the heat of the battle, it gets hard to think rationally. Especially for strong-willed cats like you. Like me.” He let out a bitter laugh, tail curling around his paws as if it would comfort him from what he was about to say next. “I know how that feels. I almost killed Buttercupbreeze, the deputy of Windclan, in a battle. And she hadn’t even been attacking me back. Her claws were sheathed, and I was aiming for a kill. Nothing he ever did, nothing anything any cat said would be able to take that, probably his biggest regret, off of his shoulders. “I don’t know what punishments Passionstar is going to inflict, but I was sent here to listen to your side of the story. And believe me, I want to know. I want to help you. I want to support you, and share the weight of this ordeal. Because no one should deal with something like this alone. And I bet you have other cats, friends as well that will support you.” He gave her a smile, something pained but hopeful. “Everycat makes mistakes. I know that by heart. And it made me bitter and distant. I don’t want that to happen to you.” The tomcat finally let out another wince, his head starting to throb. He couldn’t remember if he’d eaten or drunk anything recently. But right now, Tallmarsh was more important to him. Anyone else’s needs were always more important than his.

[Freesia]

Originally Posted by GLaDOS

Littlepaw shook his head. "They didn't want me.", he meowed. He had been in foster care, but hos foster mother didn't exactly want to take care of him. He lived in his birth parents shadows all his life never really feeling like he belonged. He didn't want to die, but he couldn't help but think that this was his destiny. Littlepaw looked at her, his breathing was going slower and slower. The apprentice couldn't move his paws and felt weaker then he was already. That was when his brething came to a quick stop. His heart not pumping at all and the blood in his vains went cold.

Tallmarsh's heart fell. She felt so sorry for this poor apprentice. He was shunned by his family. She could relate. She was going to respond, but stopped when she saw him stop breathing. "Littlepaw?" she asked, beginning to panic. "Littlepaw, wake up!" She put her ear to his side, chest, and then his mouth, searching for a breath. Nothing. His heart had stopped. Leaving the cobwebs where they were, the medicine cat began to press down rhythmically on his chest, attempting to restart his heart, but nothing happened. He was gone. The medicine cat could only stare at his still-warm body in shock. This apprentice, basically a kit, had just died in her care. She couldn't help but feel that there was something she could have done to prevent this. She sat down heavily, unable to swallow the situation.

((I suppose we can end this here))

[Sharp moon]

♡Open♡

Linnetkit peeked into the den before letting out a mew. "H-hello?" He looked around a bit scared, soon he padded inside smelling a bit of a stench. "What's that smell?" He shook head before yawning a bit he looked around to see a few elders here but he sat down.