Determined ⋆ Loyal ⋆ Lawful Good ⋆ She/Her ⋆ Killer Aptitude T3
“I can fix her!”
Adderstrike followed along the parade of death and wondered how many more times things like this was going to happen to Riverclan. How many times was Riverclan going to lose their leaders? Grim as it was, Adderstrike assumed the same thing was going to happen to Owltalon. All she could do was pray that whatever happened to Owls would be swift and for Riverclan that she would make an impact like Storms did.
Once they stopped Adderstrike started to dig wordlessly. What more could be said at this point. Maybe Riverclan could just coast on all these switching leaders. That's all it had at this point. At this point, that was fine with Adderstrike. If this was their stability, then kits were growing up. Cats were staying fed. The clan could stumble along just fine... It seemed like it was what they were going to have to do. It seemed like it was all they could do.
God why did leafbare have to make the dirt so hard?
┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓
『 Nightweb 』
⚝ RC Warrior ⚝ Tom ⚝ 25 Moons Old
Long black fur with deep amber eyes
┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛
Nightweb step forward to help with the digging. The dirt under his paws felt gross, but his paws felt numb. He didn't dare look towards Storm's body, wherever it was.
__________________
Ravenheart is Bloodclan's Deputy. Mention me if he is ever needed <3
very large, muscular, & scarred light brown tabby tom with stark blue eyes and a torn ear; killer aptitude t3 | just a scratch
[ riverclan warrior | tomcat | 55 moons | gruff & battle-hardened, heart o’ gold; loyal to a fault ]
—
- the following rp takes place on a separate timeline before stormstar's burial -
[ <- me somehow having missed that both of you responded AUGH ]
[ Rolls: 7, 12 ]
Stagheart nodded once both cats were back. While he'd been waiting and sniffing around, he'd managed to spot another flower in the distance; it wasn't much, but it was just a bit more for the herb stores. He knew the medicine cats could use anything, really.
"Alright. Let's head back," the tom huffed, picking up his meager portions and leading way back to camp with a flick of his tail.
Eaglepaw
RiverClan Apprentice
she/her | 12 moons
[Ginger and white tabby with green eyes and a heavily scarred face] Purrks: Dreamwalker, Herbal Knowledge T2
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ The Star ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
· · ────────────── · ·
[Cobwebfern - @finley ]
· · ────────────── · ·
Eaglepaw was glad Cobwebfern agreed to let anyone who wanted come to the funeral. Eaglepaw followed a little ways behind those who carried Stormstar's body, the numbness seeping through her paws from the cold ground nothing compared to the numbness that had spread through her chest and mind.
As the burial proceeded, Eaglepaw stared with absent eyes at the grave as cats began to dig. Slowly, feeling like she wasn't in control of her body, Eaglepaw pushed forward and began to dig alongside them. The dirt crumbled under her paws, trickling deeper into the hole only to be scooped back up and deposited up over the edge. It was almost soothing, in a way. The repetitive motion of scoop, toss. Scoop, toss. With each pawful of dirt removed, part of Eaglepaw's sorrow moved too. It bled into the earth, lining Stormstar's grave with the words that were never spoken between them.
Once the grave was done, Eaglepaw watched the others gently deposit her body, returning to Cobwebfern's side once the medicine cat apprentice was done. She rested her head on her best friend's shoulder, tail curled in a tight loop over her right side.
[ The following roleplay takes place on a separate timeline after Stormstar's burial. ]
"..Oh and this isn't that important but IthinkI'mfallinginlovewithRowanmane." Wisteriawren blurted, and then winced, paws shooting up to cover her eyes. But she couldn't just stop there, she couldn't just-- "A-and I thought I'd tell you, because we're, yknow, friends!" Okay, she was coming off a bit too frantic and breathless and excited and nervous and brimming with anxiety and- "Best friends! . . . You're my best friend, Stormstar, and I- I didn't want you to not know at all, if something does happen and then it'd feel awful if I didn't tell you and you'd have to find out from someone else because it felt really really awful when I hadn't told you about... about... my feelings for..." Her voice was progressively getting smaller. Who was he, now? Fadingsun? Fadingstar? What had Stormstar called him? "...Fades?"
Declawed paws knead anxiously at the ground, blue eyes round with worry. "And... and if you'd rather not hear me ever mention this stuff to you... if you prefer we don't talk about..." Her voice faltered, wobbling for a moment at the thought of having to sever this specific link in their friendship. She really wanted a best friend to share it all with. "...about personal lives, then I'd understand. You can tell me if you'd rather... not..."
The former kittypet breaks off, unable to finish her ramble-and-pretend-everything-is-fine as abrupt sobs wrack her body, tears spilling from her eyes as she lays beside Stormstar's grave. Oh, she was so late. Too late. All these things she'd wanted to share with her best friend. It was too... too... late. "Stor- Dusklion, why? Y-y-you can come back, right? You c-can see me, right? I know the C-Clans have... have an afterlife, a-an place where you all go and... and look down at us from the stars. I h-heard that... that if you're special enough, y-you can be visited in dreams-" Her breath hitched, tears rolling down her cheeks. Was she special? Would she ever see her friend again? "I- I- I- Please, I'm s-so, so..." Her voice warbles, trailing off, turning into a newfound bout of weeping. She turns her face to the soil, unable to look at it. That lump of recently upturned dirt, where her best friend lay beneath, unmoving and unseeing. "...Storm."
'I'm so sorry.' The words felt lifeless, useless. She couldn't even voice them out loud. Sorry for what? For not being there, for not... for not being enough to be there. If Wisteriawren had been someone important in Stormstar's life, she'd have been the one to be there, the one called to go on patrol instead of Seabreeze, instead of- "I wish I was your sister." Her voice cracks, a hiccup tearing through her, followed by more. Not the other way around. Wisteriawren could wish that Stormstar had been her sister, but Stormstar was such an esteemed cat that Wisteriawren's only hope was for her to be considered enough to be a sibling.
"D-did you know-"hic. "-that I d-don't have cl-claws. M-my twolegs t-took them a l-long time ago."hic. "Is that w-why you d-didn't take m-me? You took S-s-seabreeze instead?" Gold-flecked blue eyes water as the warrior finally turns her face back towards Stormstar's grave, staring listlessly at the purple flowers set upon it. Purple flowers she had trekked out on her own to fetch, knees wobbly and heart heavy - purple flowers that she'd ripped out so harshly she'd staggered back and hurt herself in the process - purple flowers that now swam in her vision, lying limp on her best friend's grave, the life slowly leaking out of them.
"Of course you didn't know." Her voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and broken. "I never... never told you. I was s-selfish, I d-didn't want to be k-known as a burden, even though I a-already was one." Wisteriawren's ears droop, as does the rest of her. She can't move, can't seem to pick herself up from beside her former leader's grave. "I s-should have told you earlier that I was falling. Now I've already fallen in love with Rowanmane. He's... he's the most wonderful mate I could have ever a-asked for. I- I... wish... I..." What did she wish? She wished Stormstar was happy for her. She wished Stormstar was happy.
"I hope you knew... know I love you." The unconditional love of a sister, not by blood, but by choice.
"Dawwww, I love ya, too," Palekiss crowed, her shimmering pelt stepping forward. If cats could clap, she'd be doing it slowly. She'd been listening over this poor thing's shoulder, somewhat bemused. Lots of cats visited graves; she could eat mousetails and listen to their confessions all day. It was just so entertaining - oh, the torment! the anguish! Their weeping tears looked more refreshing than a hot spring.
This one didn't look all too different. A couple mandatory scars here and there - it added character. Simple pelt color. The fur looked soft. No claws, huh? Pity.
She didn't think her love affair was so extravagant. Palekiss could tell worse, if she remembered it. But that's what made this performance beautiful; it was insanely dramatic. She loved it. She adored it. She wanted more of it. She craved it. Her only critique? This cat loved too much. Where were the flash romances? Burning wilfdfires? Cold snaps? Everything was so slow and serious - can't she live a little? Where's the fun in settling down?
"The only burden, sw- er, is your heart," she commented, prowling a circle around her new muse. Though, this felt temporary; a chance to leap at the throat when they're already down. Of course, they always get back up again. That was RiverClan's thing, lately.
She waved her tail, fluidly trailing behind her like a wisp of a cloud. A snort left her nose; she tossed her head to cover it up. She couldn't break character now - admittedly, she acted best as herself. Her tone softened. "I don't care who you loved - or love," she lied silkily. She paused in front of the living cat to stare into her eyes. Jeez, she looked like she was crying recently. Cute. But not really.
THIS POST HAS MAJOR MENTIONS OF INJURY AND DESCRIPTIONS OF SAID INJURY. PLEASE, DON'T READ IF THAT MAKES YOU FEEL ICKY. `~Owltalon
She, Her\Deputy\48 moons\Riverclan
"Are you listening, star child?."
The deputy padded through the foggy area, Sedgeflake in her back. She could only hope her backside wasn't reddened by the possible amount of guts spilling from the cats cranium. She tried to keep her senses keen to anything that might feel like intestines, but the deputy couldn't help but feel a bit... Numb.
Not even a year had passed and so much had happened. Her bulky frame slugged through the graveyard almost like a ghost, her tail low as cold moisture hit her at every side of her body. She could feel her nose starting to run, unfortunately for her. Not the best combination... Having the sniffles while also carrying the remains of a warrior on her back.
The bulky tabby then paused, smelling the strong presence of mint amongst lavender. She hesitated for a moment, craning her neck to peer at the mauled warrior. Rocks... Stars above, why did it have to be rocks? It was almost as though the tom didn't have a face anymore, but the gaping hole in his head was still there, overtaking and swallowing his features in a haze of red. A disease. A displeasure. A horrific display.
And despite her melancholy, she couldn't help but feel a bit fascinated. The slow decay of his brains and the stench that came with it. There was a reason as to why Owltalon mutilated prey as a hobby, she thought stuff like that was interesting. Dissecting and putting back together, how anatomy works and how to tear the unbreakable apart.
The deputy quickly looked away. She was guilty. Unbelievably guilty. Nausea rose into her throat as she remembered how quickly his life was lost, how terribly, and she was--- what? ---speculating him as though he were a frog?
The wrinkled her nose before gingerly setting down the corpse, her large frame engulfed in thick chilling frog.
"I'll be back, chap," Owltalon said to Sedgeflake, aware that he probably couldn't hear her. Which lead her to think, as she walked around to follow the sent of herbs, what if Sedgeflake was cautious a few minutes after his death? What if his systems shut down slowly, terrifyingly, and he could hear and see and smell even after the rock hit him? No. No, no, no, she didn't want to think about that. A quick shudder rippled her matted pelt, and Owltalon wished there was a way to turn her brain off.
Suddenly, a stalk hit her paws. She looked down and squinted at the plant. Ah, lavender. A deep inhale confirmed that. Now if she could just gather it, she'd only have one more to pull...
[owltalon rolled a 17! completely intact!]
Owltalon was never the best at gatherings herbs, so the victory was quite surprising. She pulled up the lavender and was immediately hit with its particular sent. Resisting the urge to gag, she held it firmly in her battered maw.
[+1 lavender]
Since lavender grew in clusters, Owltalon barely had to turn her head to reach another stalk of lavender. Once more, she bent down and reached for it.
[owltalon rolled a 18! slightly damaged!]
Well, she sure as heck got the lavender, but not without loosing a few wilting petals. Erm... The sent was still okay though, probably didn't make much difference how many leaves were on it.
The tabby went back to Sedgeflake, icy blades of grass sliding across her matted pelt. She honestly wasn't sure where to put the lavender, so she located the worst smelling spots and placed the herbs onto them.
[-2 lavender]
Next was digging. She stepped at least a foxtail away from Sedgeflake as she dug up the ground, trying to be precise in where the dirt landed. As her claws shredded ground, the warmth of new-leaf, nearly seasons ago, hit her calloused paws through the warmth of the dirt. Almost like a treasure kept deep below... Owltalon now understood why prey would burrow underground.
She then took Sedgeflake by the scruff, terrible gashes, oddly purple flowers and all, and settled him down into his grave. The deputy was sure the small pond wasn't far from here, so she got up, and started searching. Once she reached the fog vailed pool, she reached down into its chilling waters, ignoring the protest of frogs swirling around her paws. She let matted fur soak up the chilling water before she made her way back to Sedgeflake, pushing through tall grass that started to feel like walls that were only getting higher, higher, higher...
Finally, she reached the reddened body that was once her clanmate. Crusted over and blown out. With careful paws, the deputy reached down and let her cold wet paw grace the warriors side. She wasn't sure what Stormstar's exact words for the vigil were... She'd have to ask her later.
After kicking dirt back over the grave, the deputy heaved out a sigh. She stared at the grave for a long while. Probably longer than she should've. But finally, her paws stopped feeling like cinder blocks, and she padded away, the sent of lavender and sour sorrow clinging to her brown pelt.
[This post is NOT open. But it definitely is late, oh my gosh.]
Hearing his voice being called Sharkhail walked over. It was nice to get out of the camp once in a while and it looked like it was herb gathering time! Dock leaves. He gave the dock leaf a glance to memorize it. With that he sat down and waited for the two other cats to join up.
@Rose @nyme
Quote:
Originally Posted by nyme
WE'LL BUILD A FIRE IN YOUR EYES
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ! ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
SALAMANDERPAW . 10 MOONS . SHE/HER . RIVERCLAN
Another outing to Seagrass Fields? One of these days Salamanderpaw is going to crack and admit that wandering around a gravesite gives her the willies and she doesn't want to patrol there ever. But for right now, her pride prohibits it...even though she's getting a little queasy thinking about the possibility of being treated by herbs that could have grown out of a dead body. It just feels wrong.
Whatever. She's probably just being too sensitive and that's a pretty humiliating trait to have, so Salamanderpaw stuffs it down behind a tight grimace and plods on up to Sharkhail with a wordless trill of greeting. Mrrrrp to you both. She weaves around them to sniff at, blink at, and lightly paw at the dock leaf that Berryshine has placed out for them.
"It almost looks like a tongue." She observes idly, turning to stick hers out at Sharkhail and Wisteriawren. "Doethn't it? Anyway I'm good, let's go."
A tongue. Wisteriawren blinks at the apprentice's words, curiosity overcoming her, gaze inadvertently flitting to the dock leaves. Salamanderpaw wasn't wrong... But that was a topic for another day. They were all here, so it was time to go. Attention catching on Rowanmane showing up for his patrol, Wisteriawren nodded briefly to her own two companions in a silent signal that it was time to head out and hurried her pawsteps so she could brush against her mate briefly and offer him a tentative smile before they departed.
The rest of the walk was vaguely uneventful, except for the molly stopping briefly to pick up a few flowers, even if they were half-withered. And then, after arriving at Seagrass Fields, Wisteriawren sets them down on Stormstar's grave, reminding herself to visit Elderkit's later, then turned to look at her Clanmates. "Does anyone... see any dock leaves?" She asks, finally looking to the ground to begin search.
Okay. Okay alright okay. Salamanderpaw starts the trip with a few inane comments, just remarking on the cold or that she wishes they were hunting real prey instead of just herbs ("—I mean I know they're important but they don't even run away or anything,") but all her chatter dries right up the closer they get to Seagrass Fields. Her dislike for the place isn't a huge problem and it will certainly never impair her ability to patrol out here, but it's done a number on her willingness. She can do things in a bad mood, though. Especially when she knows they are things that have to get done.
Wisteriawren's been gathering flowers on the way. Salamanderpaw had politely bitten back the unnecessary remark that they're kind of withered and ugly, I'd hate it if someone put gross dead plants on my grave, because she knows better. That place she gently leaves them at is where Stormstar is buried, isn't it? It's not Salamanderpaw's job to decide how cats remember and pay respect to one another. It's especially not her job to let everyone within earshot know about every mean little thought she has.
Right now her job is dock.
It's hard to find anything through the tall grass, the mist, and the light snow that shroud this place, but she's determined to do an extra good job. The heebiejeebies don't get to decide how productive I am!! Salamanderpaw holds her puffy tail up as she sinks into the grass, letting it act as a banner to spot her by as she moves away from the two warriors. There are no obvious big green tongues for several pawsteps, but she eventually finds a plant that looks about right, smells about right, and feels about right. It's on the small and shrivelly side, so she plucks off the two biggest pieces and leaves the rest alone.
"There's one down here! It kind of sucks though. Maybe there's other ones nearby?"
The young warrior was being slower while trying to find herbs. He was a bit distracted at the thought of being in the new graveyard site of the clan. He was lost at thought thinking about his missing kit and while no one was looking he sat down for a few minutes and put a pile of stones together. He'd like to believe they were alive out there and healthy but how could he know that for sure?
After taking his time to mourn what was lost, he went back to looking for dock. Typically Sharkhail would keep searching till he could find all he could carry but his mind wasn't fully in it. All he could get himself to do was collect two things of dock.
Re: Seagrass Fields
-
<- me somehow having missed that both of you responded AUGH ]
Berryshine is RiverClan's medicine cat! 
