There was a sense of irony in a cat with so little control over his motions just sort of going through them. Bleedingpaw hadnt really stopped doing his duties since the day his world ended, it seemed his fear of disappointing others was ingrained bone deep, but the life that'd once emboldened his actions had bled dry. Shadowclans resident sunbeam was dim, rote actions and words, eyes blank and hollow as the determination to do more to make up for his lack had hit a hard wall. The cat he'd aimed to be the best for above all else after all was gone so what was the point.
Brairsplash had been lenient on Bleedingpaw in his grief, especially since he wasnt lazing, just listless after all, and Darkfall had been.... Well Lostsparks death had not changed Darkfall's relationships it seemed.
So Bleedingpaw had existed as a shade in the camp he'd once wandered and bounded through, hiding with great success from others joy as if it burned. This empty unresolved state couldnt last forever however, and when deadened shocked emotions boiled to surface once more they were explosive.
It'd started with someone finally removing Lostsparks old nest.
Bleedingpaw had spent the week before Lostsparks death periodically sneaking into the warriors den to join her in it, the two reigniting their bond, and in the time after the little bengal found sleep impossible unless he snuck in and buried nose in the old scented moss to convince himself she was still alive. But it had to go eventually, and as one chilly day started to wane into dusk Bleedingpaw slipped into the warriors den to find the last remains of his mother gone. And the first emotion he'd felt besides grief in an age had been fury.
It bubbled, boiled in him as breathing hitched, eyes watered and little body trembled as a sense of horrible helplessness felt overwhelming. Someone had taken his mother, the last piece they'd- He hated them, this unknown faceless clanmate, wanted to make them bleed and hurt like he was hurting but couldnt- helpless, useless he- He needed to make someone pay but Bleedingpaw was a weak helpless little thing still, young and burgeoning still, needed someone stronger to do what he couldnt.
So, shaking with rage undirected he stumbled and wobbled to the only place that made sense, making a bit of a racket on his journey but not 'knocking' as he did last time, slipping into Dawnstars den a lost thing, conflicting warring for space in a body not yet big enough to contain it all. "M-Miss Dawnstar someone- t-they removed her nest- Mama's nest they- h-how dare they they took her and- I w-wanna hurt and claw a-and make them pay I-"
It was a disjointed unconnected ramble, a word vomit of desperate desires of an orphan because the truth was the manner of all of this left no direction for Bleedingpaw to follow. The circumstances of Lostsparks death was muddled, and even if truth was clear revenge wasnt possible, leaving the tom without the satisfaction of it, and the cat who'd cleaned out her old bedding was undeserving of this aimless anger.
The real issue was that Bleedingpaws emotions and self lacked any aim, leaving him lost and without even the cat he'd usually go to for guidance.
Even he seemed to know that, blinking through helpless tears as the anger once again took a back seat to loss without possible direction, begging "C-cant the darkforest bring Mama back? I just w-want Mama back I dunno what to do." to the cat he thought must have answers.
Not that grief or loss ever had an answer, Dawnstar probably knew that well herself after Icestars abrupt end.
But nothing changed in this horrid nightmare. Miss Lostspark was dead. She was actually dead. The brave and unstoppable cat Cloverpaw looked up to, was dead. It wasn't a dream. As much as she wanted to think that, it wasn't. Tears welled up in the tabby's green eyes as she dipped her head. "I-I'll go. M sorry, won't bother you anymor'," she muttered before leaving.
x ghostie is haunting this signature
Bean's favorite staff member Lillian was here
lio sneezed here (achoo)
you see crude graffiti... it spells "velli wuz here"
Rose caught the sickness (oh dear)
fenrir stares at rose with a spray bottle of water in hand
My Soul is in @/Ian's basement with some ice cream
Mistlewhisker
ShadowClan Deputy
she/her | 45 moons
[Large black cat with a half white muzzle and a pale green eye] Purrks: Killer Aptitude T3, Shadow Fiend, Mind Reader
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ The Chariot ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
· · ────────────── · ·
[Dawnstar - @Undertaker ] [Gutspaw - @wolfie ] [Squirrelrise - @idia ]
· · ────────────── · ·
Dawnstar was dismissive of the news, which suited Mistlewhisker fine. The Deputy was sure the Leader was wondering why she bothered to report, but at this point she was just going through the motions. Just in case the dogs came back or something evolved in the situation, she wasn't going to be caught holding information. As the three were dismissed, Mistlewhisker nodded briskly before leaving the den. Outside, she glanced at Gutspaw and Squirrelrise. "Get some rest." She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, anything, to comfort them... but nothing came out. Instead she turned towards the camp entrance, disappearing into the territory to do some more investigating herself.
There was a sense of irony in a cat with so little control over his motions just sort of going through them. Bleedingpaw hadnt really stopped doing his duties since the day his world ended, it seemed his fear of disappointing others was ingrained bone deep, but the life that'd once emboldened his actions had bled dry. Shadowclans resident sunbeam was dim, rote actions and words, eyes blank and hollow as the determination to do more to make up for his lack had hit a hard wall. The cat he'd aimed to be the best for above all else after all was gone so what was the point.
Brairsplash had been lenient on Bleedingpaw in his grief, especially since he wasnt lazing, just listless after all, and Darkfall had been.... Well Lostsparks death had not changed Darkfall's relationships it seemed.
So Bleedingpaw had existed as a shade in the camp he'd once wandered and bounded through, hiding with great success from others joy as if it burned. This empty unresolved state couldnt last forever however, and when deadened shocked emotions boiled to surface once more they were explosive.
It'd started with someone finally removing Lostsparks old nest.
Bleedingpaw had spent the week before Lostsparks death periodically sneaking into the warriors den to join her in it, the two reigniting their bond, and in the time after the little bengal found sleep impossible unless he snuck in and buried nose in the old scented moss to convince himself she was still alive. But it had to go eventually, and as one chilly day started to wane into dusk Bleedingpaw slipped into the warriors den to find the last remains of his mother gone. And the first emotion he'd felt besides grief in an age had been fury.
It bubbled, boiled in him as breathing hitched, eyes watered and little body trembled as a sense of horrible helplessness felt overwhelming. Someone had taken his mother, the last piece they'd- He hated them, this unknown faceless clanmate, wanted to make them bleed and hurt like he was hurting but couldnt- helpless, useless he- He needed to make someone pay but Bleedingpaw was a weak helpless little thing still, young and burgeoning still, needed someone stronger to do what he couldnt.
So, shaking with rage undirected he stumbled and wobbled to the only place that made sense, making a bit of a racket on his journey but not 'knocking' as he did last time, slipping into Dawnstars den a lost thing, conflicting warring for space in a body not yet big enough to contain it all. "M-Miss Dawnstar someone- t-they removed her nest- Mama's nest they- h-how dare they they took her and- I w-wanna hurt and claw a-and make them pay I-"
It was a disjointed unconnected ramble, a word vomit of desperate desires of an orphan because the truth was the manner of all of this left no direction for Bleedingpaw to follow. The circumstances of Lostsparks death was muddled, and even if truth was clear revenge wasnt possible, leaving the tom without the satisfaction of it, and the cat who'd cleaned out her old bedding was undeserving of this aimless anger.
The real issue was that Bleedingpaws emotions and self lacked any aim, leaving him lost and without even the cat he'd usually go to for guidance.
Even he seemed to know that, blinking through helpless tears as the anger once again took a back seat to loss without possible direction, begging "C-cant the darkforest bring Mama back? I just w-want Mama back I dunno what to do." to the cat he thought must have answers.
Not that grief or loss ever had an answer, Dawnstar probably knew that well herself after Icestars abrupt end.
Her ears straightened up and her body followed a heartbeat later upon detecting the loud arrival. Her amber glare gleamed dangerously before dimming as she recognized the exotic pelt. At first glance, she mistook him for her long-lost mate. However, she quickly realized he was too small and the scent wasn't right.
Bleedingpaw. She'd been meaning to see how he was doing, but clan issues came first. So she was a little pleased he sought her out even if he looked to be in a foul mood. Her frown deepened as he stuttered about what had him in such a state. So some cat had finally removed Lostspark's nest. Bleedingpaw was still raw, unlike most of Lostspark's kits, his bond with his mother had been strong.
His anger was identical to hers when she first lost her mother. Hers had been more manic, however, more harmful. Yet she had distraction after distraction to take her attention away from the loss until she could find an outlet for all her confusing and destructive emotions. WindClan and even her own clanmates at times.
It was a pity, she didn't have anything for Bleedingpaw to fight, to hurt, and she didn't trust him to return alive if she did find himself something to bleed. Dawnstar had the excuse of extra lives. Of course, none of them made anything better. It didn't bring Icestar back or Hailstorm to answer for her wrongdoings. But it did make things more manageable, she guessed.
"Come here," She beckoned for the apprentice to come join her in her nest. "You can't be fine. I know what it's like such grief burns your soul away leaving it barren, raw, and wrathful." Everyone handles grief differently as she's learned over the seasons. Bleedingpaw's default or defense might be a better word was rage, like Dawnstar's was just for about everything she didn't want to deal with.
"I know what it is like to lose family. No words will ever ease that huge festering wound that opens in your chest. Time doesn't heal, anyone who tells you that is a liar. It fogs over the memory and lessens the pain but it's no cure. That wound will scar and remain with you forever. Some days you'll be able to carry on like nothing's wrong and other days you'll feel the pain with the same intensity as when it was inflicted. Unfortunately, Bleedingpaw, that is life, you can't live it without loss." Dawnstar learned that lesson the hard way, yet, she still fought tooth and claw against it.
There was still sadness sewn into her chest, pulling her shoulders down, but the pain had dulled. It would lessen, never fade, but lessen leaving behind a new scar that would bother her during bad weather or when she couldn't preoccupy her mind.
"I can't fix it, I don't think anyone truly can. She's not returning unless someone deems her worthy of a second chance. Even then I'm not sure she'd want to come back. She's lived quite a hard life and deserves some rest. The best way to honor Lostspark is by training hard, growing strong, and living for her. I can't replace her no cat ever will, but I feel a certain sense of responsibility for you, so the least I can do is be here for you. You're not alone."
Quote:
Originally Posted by Estelle
It was an odd feeling to experience, when she was about to leave for another patrol with Rookfire, when they were instead intercepted by Darkfall stepping in their way. The scent of blood hit her nose before her eyes even registered his horrid appearance and Sleepysunrise had to take a moment of special focus to actually listen and not end up in a reverie of theories for why he looked as bad as he did. But his words were curt and short-lived; he wanted herself and Rookfire to join for a report to Miss Grandmama, and Sleepysunrise could not fathom why. Other than it being related to some sensitive enforcer-specific information, but that would normally come from Miss Grandmama, Hawkbite or Mistlewhisker, not a warrior-slash-former enforcer. Even so, she obeyed and followed Darkfall towards the mouth of the slightly milk-scented den, halting out of habit and being left behind when he entered without (figuratively) knocking. Sleepysunrise would’ve been left mouth agape at such an action, but luckily she was not expressive enough for such thing. She merely blinked a few quick blinks in surprise before her paws hesitantly followed after him, noting the urgency in his voice as he addressed the Queen of Shadows.
But the topic soon turned sour, and her blood ran cold in dreaded anticipation. Darkfall brought up her mama, she wondered why, but a reasonable part of her did not want to know why. Whatever could involve her mama, two toms and Darkfall being as messed up as he was – she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know about their relationship arguments, even if it resulted in a fight. That was their issues, and nothing to bother her, her siblings or Miss Grandmama over. Of course mama would be able to easily beat up Darkfall… What she couldn’t understand, was why mama was not here and why Darkfall felt such a need to bring his issue to her grandmother.
Her gaze and head averted, able to feign little interest in what she thought he would be discussing. He was bringing up so many details – his dislike for a tom, his worry – all over what she believed must have been a petty fight… Until the mention of blood.
Sleepyrsunrise could be dense when it came to reading the den, but she did not lack in intelligence either. Darkfall, unless he misspoke, clearly stated blood had been there upon his arrival, and that bit of news was enough to turn her ears back on her ex-step-father. Unsettling eyes moved from the walls, to the ground and her paws, to the lower legs of the tom who had been speaking so much, a slow blink gracing her face. Blood. In the bog, all around… Before Darkfall arrived.
The wheels in her brain began turning, and the frightning conclusion it was beginning to draw up she did not like. There had to be some logical explanation for what he found. A reason, something Darkfall misunderstood or was explaining poorly. Mama… She wouldn’t… Sleepysunrise’s lips pressed together, unable to meet the tom’s eyes as he continue, ears reluctantly perked to listen further.
It took everything in her willpower for her claws to not unsheathe and tear into the soft soil of the den below, muscles visibly straining when a cold gaze landed upon the former enforcer. Her ears flickered back, briefly, intent on calling out his bluff – calling out how wrong and impossible that was, but he spoke before she could utter a word.
Her teeth gritted within her maw at the mention of Mirepaw’s unwillingness to cooperate. To explain further, to explain what truly happened – even Darkfall she could hardly suspect of keeping such information from Dawnstar, the sentence would surely be death, and he did not seem to have the courage to risk his pelt over keeping his ex-mate’s information private. She hoped not, at least.
...No one who couldn't speak the truth deserved to be in ShadowClan. If Mirepaw was withholding information over mama and her whereabouts – because mama could not simply be dead or killed like some common warrior – then Mirepaw had no place in ShadowClan. And neither did Darkfall, if he withheld as much as her supposed half sister.
A coward. A coward with cowardly excuses… She couldn’t care less about his torn paw pads. If he had the power to get more information then he should have; a ShadowClan warrior should easily be able to best an outsider and a child. And however much she wished he didn’t, he kept. On. Speaking. Sleepysunrise felt tense. Her teeth were gritted. Murder, is what Darkfall suggested, and she hated the implication that mama could be killed so easily. Because she couldn’t. It could not be true. Not by some warrior, even if there were two.
Her tail gave a lash, averted eyes lifting to meet his when a tear rolled from his cheek and tender words uttered from his lips; words which fell on nothing but dead ears. He never saved her. And she never needed saving. Mama was alive, she had to be, and the youngest enforcer could not honour such grand stories… Miss Grandmama had to think the same, she had to confirm this could not be true. My daughter, he said. I’m sorry, he said. But she listened none, her eyes only turned to her grandmother, desperately looking for that confirmation that Darkfall had gone mad.
But as Sleepysunrise looked and studied her grandmother’s face, the realisation dawned on her. Not even Miss Grandmama was denying the accusations, the mere sight was enough to tell her a thousand words. She believed Darkfall – even if the story was too grand, too improbable… Even Miss Grandmama believed him, and Sleepysunrise had to look down when utter shock and distress ultimately began to overtake her senses. Tense muscles turned to strain, clenched jaw felt slack and her eyes began to feel hot with tears and her body near trembling. Everything faded into the background. She could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest, a chest struggling to keep breathing in and out normal breaths and aching under the intent of no oxygen coming near, ear pinned right back and tail nervously tapping the ground. Her eyes flitted to Miss Grandmama, the bitter laugh resonated in her ears but she couldn’t make out the leader’s words. She must be asking them to leave, but why couldn’t she move?
She hated it. She hated this. She hated that such a state overtook her senses, she couldn’t let it win like before, she couldn’t let Miss Grandmama see her weak. She couldn’t let Rookfire see her weak - why did that tom have to be here, skies, he didn’t matter! It wasn’t his mother, not his grandmother, his nothing. Only his mentor. He could have… Could have found out another time; not here, not like this, not with them. She had to hold her breath, forcing her lungs to ache for air but she couldn’t let a breath escape for fear it would be a wail or a scream or both. She had to hold back these tears.
But even through slowly blurry vision, she could see her grandmother. Miss Grandmama must be waiting for her to go, too, praying to the stars neither Darkfall and Rookfire were here… That at least they had heeded Miss Grandmama’s orders. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t just… Leave. A distorted hiccup left her maw the moment it opened just an edge; she had done so much to look strong, but on impulse her paws stepped forth. Only memory of mama’s comforting hugs remained in her mind – the regrets – the family she had left – as he young feline stepped closer to Dawnstar and dared lay her head upon the Queen of Mean in a slow, sudden semblance of a hug. Only then did her vision truly blur over, and did a tear roll down her cheek. If the leader allowed, she wished to hide her face in her grandmother’s fur. She knew Dawnstar may despise her for it; reject her, yell at her. But… She couldn’t help it.
“I’m sorry…”
She uttered, knowing she was acting out of step, staying in such position for however long the leader would allow. She did what she could to blink her tears away, regain her cracking composure and speak normally, respectfully, as she should. Let Miss Grandmama alone when that was her wish. She couldn’t have mama be gone, he must have... Misunderstood. But if she was… So many of her siblings were gone too. She couldn’t lose any more. Not them, not Miss Grandmama. If this was a murder attempt – the mere thought of which made her sick to the stomach – Sleepysunrise could not see her remaining family harmed, too. “He… He must have lied. Be mistaken. But. If he didn’t… I want to protect you, Miss Grandmama. You and… And your kits. Let me stay with you. Again. Please. I-I can stay outside, if you prefer, but. But they cannot go after you… And them, too.”
She could not and did not want to deal with this or anyone else. She didn't listen or hear to see if her orders were followed, she was too busy glaring holes at her claws as she pressed them so harshly into the ground that pain jolted violently through her nerves. It went noticed as she focused on her breathing. In and out. She wanted to kill something, anything, to relieve these violent emotions.
Her ears jerk up and then back down after hearing the hiccuping noise across from her. Her lips curl above her fangs as she seethes at her granddaughter. What? Was she suddenly deaf?! A growl bubbles from the back of her throat when Sleepysunrise moves close, but remains stuck when the smaller cat merely leans in and rests her head on the leader.
Even though her snarl tapers out, the tension in the strong muscles beneath her thick coat remains taut and on the verge of snapping. Her misplaced rage simmers at the apology. She hated this. There were no words to describe her level of wrath and fury. Her pain, grief, and loss. That was the last one, the last adopted kit she had. Whether she bore her or not, she was still hers and now she was gone. Dawnstar didn't know what to do with herself.
It would cease and become more bearable, more manageable as life moved on. She'd figure it out. However, right now, she felt abandoned again and completely alone. It hurt so unforgivably badly. She wanted to scream and break but didn't dare move. It was then she realized that no one could escape themselves. She felt sick. She was too raw to deal with her emotions and Sleepysunrise's. Dawnstar had to bite back the snarl begging to break free at the mention of protecting. It was that misplaced anger that urged her to snap at her granddaughter again, Dawnstar swallowed behind that lump in her throat threatening to suffocate her.
"You can stay," She breathed after a long silence. Without Lostspark, she needed someone to help her keep what little family she had left close. Sending Sleepysunrise away as she was would probably break something in her granddaughter that Dawnstar would regret. It was better to keep her close.
Instead of grieving, she has to battle to keep everything bottled up, since she couldn't or rather wouldn't talk to anyone here. She could hear the denial in Sleepysunrise's voice. Dawnstar didn't bother correcting her as she pulled away from her granddaughter and plopped beside her sleeping litter. Her family was shrinking bit by bit and she was desperate to keep close to the ones she had left. In that, she could relate heavily to Sleepysunrise.
"You can stay in my den so long as you don't squish the kits." That was what little comfort she could offer her granddaughter as she was. Dawnstar didn't specify how long she could stay just that she could. She was tired and fragile and wanted to sleep and pretend this was all a nightmare.
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siggy art by redshiftreign
Dawnstar is the leader of ShadowClan and her kits currently reside in her den, enter and she may maim or kill you. She has a closed den policy. ShadowClan Resources ||| Dawnstar ||| ||| Kit Curriculum Finder
Re: ShadowClan Leader's Den
