the weeping sea [p]

[iliri]

Weepingwind
short-furred, black ghost tabby with dark green eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | rc warrior | 33 moons

---

Today had been undeniably stressful. The weight of recent events hung heavily over Weepingwind’s shoulders, coiling around her chest like a persistent thorn. The camp buzzed with tension, every cat seeming to walk on edge. Everywhere she looked, she saw furrowed brows and uneasy glances, the burden of leaf-bare compounding the grief still fresh from Stormstar’s death. Even the ever-present hum of the river seemed subdued, its usual lively current muffled beneath the frost-laden chill of the season. Weepingwind had spent most of the morning weaving through camp, her sharp green eyes observing as much as they could without really landing on anything. The mounting stress had made her restless, her paws itching to escape the confined space of the hollowed tree walls that seemed to press in around her. It was maddening. She wasn’t the type to sit and dwell when her mind was this clouded. She needed movement, a change of scenery—anything to break free from the oppressive atmosphere hanging over RiverClan like a storm cloud. Her eyes caught a familiar figure near the edge of her vision, his blue-gray and sandy-patched fur glinting in the pale light of the sun. Seabreeze. He wasn't a cat she knew particularly well, but she recognized him from interacting with him before during that event that Cobwebfern held for the clan, and during the otter fight. Other than that, they hadn't really interacted all that much.

Crossing the clearing, Weepingwind came to a halt a few paces away from him, her tail flicking once in a brief wave of greeting. “Hey,” she started, her voice carrying the faintest edge of weariness, though she did her best to mask it with a casual tone. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t sit around here for another moment without feeling like my fur’s gonna fall out.” Her dark green eyes held his own for a moment, an unspoken understanding flickering there. She shifted her weight slightly, her claws flexing into the frozen ground beneath her. “What do you say we go hunt for a bit? Get out of camp, clear our heads?” The suggestion hung in the air between them, simple yet pointed. Hunting wasn’t just an excuse to leave the camp—it was a way to find some semblance of normalcy, to push past the grief and fear that clung to them like a shadow. Her ears angled forward as she awaited his response, her expression calm but expectant. For all her boldness, a part of her hoped he would say yes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to face the silence of the riverbank alone.

@Dolomedes [sorry this starter isn't that good ]

[Dolomedes]

Seabreeze
He/him | Riverclan Warrior| Moons: 24 |
“No one is coming to save you.
Get up.”

TW: This character’s posts often exhibits triggers such as depression, suicidal tendencies/idealation, anxiety, and self loathing

Seabreeze was laying near the freshkill pile, counting and recounting, and then counting again. Something to feel useful, knowing how much they had and having a rough estimate of what they would need. But despite the numbers not matching, he couldn't really bring himself to get up and leave and hunt like he should be doing for the sake of the clan. He didn't understand why. Well he did, in a way. Stormstar. Her death was so different from every others' in his life. The thought had his tail curling tighter against his body, a chill- not from cold- causing his body to shudder and his fur to stand up that little bit more.

His sister, he had been laying with her as she took her final breaths, but she was unconscious up until that point. He hadn't been allowed to see her because he would've been in the way of the medicine cats, but he never got to say goodbye because of it. Frost melt disappeared, reappeared, and then left once more. The feline felt more like an illusion, some fragment, rather than a real thing. Mudsmoke was a cat that he saw one day, and then the next he was announced dead by the beasts that left Seabreeze scarred. It was one cat after another, even ones he wasn't favorable of. His father, dying in a border scuffle. His mother left the clan without looking back. His other siblings, his and Cloverpaw's replacements, turn to nothing more but a whisper on the wind.

But all of them disappeared long before he saw them. Never got to say goodbye, only ever a 'until next time.' But Stormstar. She not only died in his paws, but she had been asking something. Not only did she waste her lives saving his, but she also gave her final words to his name. Placing her gifts, her chances, her final melody in the paws of a cat that wished for the sweet release of death more than anyone he knew. And she had asked him to do something, was asking him to do something. And he would have to live with the fact that something would never be seen through. Seabreeze could guess. Seabreeze could try and do whatever it is that Stormstar may have wanted, to not leave her unfinished business she left with him, unsettled.

Blue grey eyes, dull and unfocused, snapped towards a voice to his side. Oh... Weepingwind, he didn't know the feline that well but he wouldn't consider her in his lesser thoughts. Rather just another poor soul who was brought into this clan. "Weepingwind." He greeted simply. Listening as the molly explained her thoughts and he was inclined to agree with her. Dark fur, ghosted stripes as if whatever created her wasn't sure about the markings... but similarities that turned to familiarity as she continued to speak.

Seabreeze was a cat that often found himself staring into the past while living in the present. It was a bad habit, and one that he knew Stormstar wouldn't approve of. That she wanted him to cease the behavior to get better. But upon the dark molly's words he couldn't help but remember Stormstar asking something similar before. "I wouldn't mind. I only wish to stay close to camp, not far at all." No where near any borders, especially the one with Stormstar's ghost. Perhaps he was a cursed soul, but he was tired of his being leading to only death and harm to the ones around him.

[ @iliri ]

[iliri]

Weepingwind
short-furred, black ghost tabby with dark green eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | rc warrior | 34 moons

---

It seemed that Seabreeze also was willing to get out of camp for awhile, Not that the smoked tabby was really bothered by by his agreement—if anything, it was a relief to know she wouldn’t have to venture out alone with her thoughts gnawing at her like hungry fish beneath the surface of the river. Everything that happened with Stormstar just made today all the more harrowing. No leader deserved such a grueling death like that, it was just… horrible. Hell, even worse than just horrible. The sheer weight of it all made her chest feel tight. Weepingwind had never been the type to let her emotions cripple her, but this was different. There was a kind of permanence in the absence Stormstar had left behind, a void that couldn’t be filled with idle chatter or reassurances that everything would be fine. Cats could try all they wanted to patch over the grief with optimistic words, but Weepingwind wasn’t so naive as to believe them. There was no replacing a cat like Stormstar—not her leadership, her strength, or the way she had made you feel like everything would be okay, even when it wasn’t. The loss wasn’t just a blow to the clan’s morale; it was a wound that would take moons to heal. And while others could mask their pain or bury themselves in duties, Weepingwind had always faced things head-on. Still, even she had to admit the effort was exhausting.

She glanced at Seabreeze as she began to move toward the camp’s entrance, her steps slow but purposeful for him to keep up alongside her. It wasn’t hard to see the tom carrying himself with a kind of weariness she recognized all too well—the weight of memories and regrets pressing down like stones on his shoulders. His pale blue-gray fur caught the dim light filtering through the clouds, the ghostly patches of sandy color blending with the frost-kissed earth beneath their paws. He didn’t seem to talk much, which Weepingwind didn’t mind. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d say to fill the silence, anyway. Small talk felt meaningless in the face of everything they were going through, and the heavier topics... Well, those could wait. For now, just having another cat beside her was enough. As they padded closer to the edge of camp, the air grew colder, the scent of the river mingling with the crisp tang of frost. Weepingwind’s ears flicked as she tilted her head slightly, her deep green eyes scanning their surroundings. “We’ll stay close,” she murmured, more to herself than to Seabreeze. It wasn’t like her to feel uneasy about straying too far from camp, but today was different. Something about the weight of Stormstar’s death made the borders feel less like lines on a map and more like edges of a cliff she wasn’t ready to step near. Especially with the threat of her death being from a creature she hadn’t encountered in her lifetime.

Her gaze shifted to Seabreeze again, and for a moment, she found herself studying him more closely. There was something almost haunted in the way he carried himself, as if the ghosts of his past followed him with every step. It wasn’t just Stormstar, she realized. She supposed that he’d seen a lot of loss, more than any cat should have to endure. She could see it in the way his tail stump stayed low, and the subtle tension in his shoulders. It made her wonder—briefly—how he managed to keep going. But then, maybe that wasn’t so different from her own way of dealing with things. You just... kept moving, because what else was there to do? “We’ll head toward the shallows close to camp,” she suggested after a pause, her tone steady but lacking the usual edge of playfulness it often carried. “There’s bound to be something stirring along the banks. A vole, maybe. Or some ducks, if we’re lucky.” Her claws flexed into the dirt again as she spoke, the action almost unconscious. Hunting felt like the simplest solution to the restlessness coursing through her veins—something to focus on, something productive. It wasn’t going to fix anything, but at least it was better than sitting around camp waiting for her own thoughts to drown her. She let the suggestion hang for a moment, her gaze flicking back to Seabreeze. “You good with that?” she asked, though her tone wasn’t demanding. If he had something else in mind, she wasn’t going to argue. It wasn’t like she had a particular destination in mind—she just wanted to move, to do something. Anything.

@Dolomedes

[Dolomedes]

Seabreeze
He/him | Riverclan Warrior| ~25 moons |
“No one is coming to save you.
Get up.”

TW: This character’s posts often exhibits triggers such as depression, suicidal tendencies/idealation, anxiety, and self loathing

Seabreeze rose to his paws slowly after catching Weepingwind's starting her way in leading them from the camp after the short confirmation from the Tom. Good, he didn't really wanna wait around, having a task made thoughts easier to think, not being the primary focus and making things easier to process in his opinion. Though complete distractions weren't great, he's learned that from his first bout of 'being better' before his relapse and everything that followed. Today it was a constant fight between mourning and not wanting to let Stormstar's death hold him back or knock him back in recovery because he knows for a fact that the leader wouldn't want that from him.

"That makes sense, alright. I don't see the likelihood of seeing any birds at this time of season though. Birds were always gone." Seabreeze didn't like birds so he didn't mind, well actually, he did because that was lack of food in a harsh leafbare. But for some reason having some childish dislike made his day feel slightly lighter. Something innocent with zero weight was a nice change to something about death or the weight of some forever unfinished business having to do with him that he will have to live with for the rest of forever until he could speak with Stormstar in the stars when he himself was dead. And who knows when that would ever happen given how much life seems to enjoy dragging him along ( and the fact he owed it to many cats, so he couldn't disappoint them like that either. )

Eventually the world changed to more soggy soil and more river based reeds and tall grasses than the limited rock and roughness of their new camp. He misses their old camp but understood why they couldn't stay, he honestly didn't even want to stay after it all. He was just homesick for the good times he had there before his life fell apart. "The water is still running here, maybe we'll get some fish, but I'm not sure if I wanna try for hyperthermia." He added with a light, half there playful remark. He wasn't sure if that landed, but he turned to look for Weepingwind's response anyways.

[ @iliri ]

[iliri]

Weepingwind
short-furred, black ghost tabby with dark green eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | rc warrior | 34 moons

---

Weepingwind’s ears twitched slightly, her mind half-focused on the path ahead, half caught in the weight of Seabreeze’s words. His slow, deliberate movements didn’t go unnoticed—how could they? It was the way a cat carried themselves after they’d been crushed under too many burdens and somehow kept walking despite it. She knew that look well. She’d seen it in her reflection too many times, in the dark waters of the river where it hissed grim truths she didn’t want to hear. There was something about grief—real, soul-deep grief—that left its mark, not just on the heart but in the very bones of a cat. Stormstar’s death had carved its way into the marrow of RiverClan, and while they all carried the weight of her loss, Seabreeze seemed to wear it like a second pelt. She felt a pang of understanding twist somewhere behind her ribs as she glanced over her shoulder, watching him fall in step behind her. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Birds are smarter than us—they know when to fly somewhere warmer before the cold turns the world to ice,” she replied, her words colored with a mixture of humor and bitterness. Her sensitive whiskers twitched in the chill as she turned her gaze forward again, stepping carefully over a patch of half-frozen reeds that crackled beneath her dark paws. “But who knows? Maybe one of them got stupid and stayed behind. We could get lucky.”

Her claws flexed reflexively into the muddy ground. Lucky. Wasn’t that a laugh? Luck had never been her closest friend. Stormstar had given her life protecting this clan—protecting cats like Seabreeze and herself. Now Stormstar was gone, and all that was left was the quiet ache of her absence and the gaping hole where a leader’s strength had once stood. She could still feel the weight of it pressing against her chest, the phantom sensation of something missing that should never have been lost in the first place. The landscape shifted as they moved, the dry, frost-bitten air of camp giving way to the heavy dampness of the riverbank. The scent of water seeped into her senses—cold and sharp, tinged with the familiar earthy musk of reeds and the faint trace of fish. Her paws sank deeper into the sodden soil, and for a brief moment, the grounding sensation of it brought a flicker of calm. She welcomed the sting of the sharp, bracing cold wind brushing against her whiskers, clearing her thoughts the way nothing else could. Seabreeze’s comment about the water drew a snort from her, a short puff of breath that fogged in the air before her. “I’m not dragging your soggy pelt back to camp if you fall in,” she teased, the corner of her mouth twitching into the faintest of smirks. “But fish sounds good. Even if we don’t catch any, at least it’ll feel good to try—better than sitting around counting shadows.” She let her gaze flick toward him again, studying the lines of his expression, the way his eyes still carried shadows despite the attempt at humor.

Seabreeze reminded her of the river itself—calm on the surface but with something stronger and darker swirling beneath, currents that could pull a cat under if they weren’t careful. And yet, here they were. Two storm-tossed souls, still standing and moving forward even when the weight of everything threatened to drag them down. Weepingwind lashed her striped tail once, sharply, against the chill before she took another step toward the edge of the water. “Let’s see what we can find,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “If nothing else, we’ll both be out here breathing.” She didn’t say it, but she felt it—the unspoken truth that simmered between them. Sometimes, it wasn’t about the prey. It was about surviving long enough to keep trying.

@Dolomedes