~ WOLFFANG OF WINDCLAN - AMAB HE/HIM - BEEFED UP TIER 1 ~
Large, muscular, dappled gray tom with light cream-gray fluff on the front of his neck and chest; amber eyes.
Wolffang was initially going to wait for Twilightstar's verdict before saying anything else. His blood was boiling with rage at the idea that one of his Clanmates could be a traitor - but there was something else, too. A touch of sympathy? For Snowybreeze, of course, but perhaps for Cowtuft, too. He should've been less negligent, but it wasn't his fault that someone had snuck deathberries into his herb supplies. Whoever did something this vile must be exiled. Maybe even executed, he thought, flexing his long, sharp claws in and out.
Driftingsoul's voice made his broad head turn. She was politely disagreeing, which Wolffang respected, but it didn't change his outlook that Cowtuft had made just that - a mistake. A terrible and deadly one, but mistakes could be remedied so long as Cowtuft's skills were examined and he was deemed fit to continue. Driftingsoul wants to kill him? Wolffang's muscles tensed, and he couldn't help the fur that rippled along his spine. We shouldn't kill him for this. Exile I'd understand, but death... That was too far. Besides, so much of this seemed to be built on conspiracies about the Snow Fever. That certainly wasn't Cowtuft's fault.
As Wolffang shook his head, opening his jaws to counter Driftingsoul's points, Bravebird looked at him. Her blue gaze was filled with such shock, such anger, that it took him completely by surprise. He shut his mouth and looked back quizzically. Bravebird always advocated for what she thought was best, and normally, her views aligned with Wolffang's. It seemed like they didn't in this case, which was okay, but... There was nothing wrong with what I said. He blinked a few times, surprised but unable to help the hurt blossoming in his chest. He hadn't talked to her yet. And he didn't want them to get off on the wrong paw.
He barely suppressed a flinch at Bravebird's words, harsh and condescending, calling for exile. Voices rose up in support or disagreement. This wasn't about getting on Bravebird's side - the well-being of the Clan was far more important - but he felt such a desperate need to prove his point and defend himself that he found himself speaking. Stern yet steady words, aimed at Driftingsoul and Bravebird.
"Now's not the time for conspiracies about the Snow Fever. The deaths caused by that are not Cowtuft's fault. It was merely a coincidence that it occurred right after he got his name, and he did all he could to fight against it. He quarantined the sick cats, sent out extra herb patrols to find something to help them. If we're blaming him for anything, it shouldn't be that. Any medicine cat is going to lose Clanmates when faced with an illness he's never seen before. StarClan, even if it was a familiar illness, I'm sure we would've lost cats. Cowtuft was trying his best back then. He wasn't slacking off. That was not an example of incompetence."
He turned his attention to Bravebird, fighting off the pang in his chest. "I understand what you're saying; I do. WindClan's safety is vital. But I believe exile is too extreme, death even more so. Cowtuft has served us loyally for seasons, and, though he should be punished for his lack of competence in noticing the deathberries tainting his supplies, he shouldn't be cast out of his home. That's why I suggested demotion: His skills as a medicine cat will be assessed. If we are worried about him, we can confine him to camp as well and keep him under constant guard." It's what he thought was best, really, though he understood Bravebird's viewpoint. Cowtuft had caused many deaths due to his negligence. But the poison wasn't his fault.
Another thought came to Wolffang. "Lightningstorm didn't notice the tainted herbs, either. Of course, she discovered the deathberries before Cowtuft did, but I think that should be put out there."
Then Scorchedfang spoke up.
Wolffang froze, his blood icing over like a thin stream in the first frost of leaf-bare.
Cowtuft had... brought the poison into camp?
It all played across the dappled gray warrior's face. First, disbelief. Then shock. Then horror.
Then rage.
Everything he'd thought, everything he'd said, turned on its head.
Wolffang didn't even have the time to feel ashamed for spewing false information about a traitor.
"Wait." The single word came out harsh, edged with the tumult of emotions tumbling through his mind. "Is that what Cowtuft was saying?" He shook his head to clear it. "I thought he was trying to convey his horror about the poisoned stores and that he didn't know how they got there..." Of course, Wolffang was horrible at interpreting sign language. And this new idea, this new concept, turned his expression harder than a rock.
"Cowtuft said he brought the poison into camp and hid it. Is this true?" Wolffang's voice shook now with rage. No, Cowtuft wouldn't intentionally poison his Clanmates, but this... Bravebird's qualms made a whole lot more sense now. How could anyone be this hare-brained? Wolffang's sympathy and respect for the medicine cat vanished as a mist under a hot sun did, the last shreds furling in the air and perishing. "I thought it was someone else who'd poisoned the herbs..."
He couldn't say more, not until someone else versed in sign language could confirm Scorchedfang's words. But it seemed this horrendous truth had come to light, and suddenly, exile didn't seem so out there anymore.
The deputy had been on a walk out of camp to clear his head, only coming back in time to see Twilightstar call an impromptu meeting and Leafspot's body in the clearing. Cats were yowling at each other and about the medicine cats, so it wasn't hard for Fallownose to determine that Leafspot had died of the supposed poison or whatever had killed Berryfrost, Foxkit, Stickpaw, and the others.
Twilightstar asked for everyone's opinions on what should be done after explaining how Lightningstorm had discovered deathberries, and then Cowtuft confessed to hiding them and telling no one they were in camp. Not even Twilightstar. His gut churned in disgust at the cats calling for a simple demotion or exile. Did they not care about their Clanmates?
Once there was a moment of quiet, he decided to speak up. "Do you all care nothing for the seven cats who died? Cowtuft has admitted to bringing deathberries into camp without telling anyone, not even Twilightstar. He never checked on them, and his herbs were poisoned with the hidden deathberries from his own store. Who else could have poisoned the herbs other than Cowtuft, if no one knew they were there? Not only that, but he never even considered it to be a possibility even after the most recent Gathering, and Leafspot died because of that. Why Cowtuft would do this on purpose, I can't say. All I know is that he was the only one who knew about those deathberries, and they were the ones that poisoned the herbs. If, somehow, it wasn't him, his negligence still led to the deaths of seven cats, including a kit and apprentice. Death is the only suitable punishment, or have we turned soft like RiverClan?"
The deputy had been on a walk out of camp to clear his head, only coming back in time to see Twilightstar call an impromptu meeting and Leafspot's body in the clearing. Cats were yowling at each other and about the medicine cats, so it wasn't hard for Fallownose to determine that Leafspot had died of the supposed poison or whatever had killed Berryfrost, Foxkit, Stickpaw, and the others.
Twilightstar asked for everyone's opinions on what should be done after explaining how Lightningstorm had discovered deathberries, and then Cowtuft confessed to hiding them and telling no one they were in camp. Not even Twilightstar. His gut churned in disgust at the cats calling for a simple demotion or exile. Did they not care about their Clanmates?
Once there was a moment of quiet, he decided to speak up. "Do you all care nothing for the seven cats who died? Cowtuft has admitted to bringing deathberries into camp without telling anyone, not even Twilightstar. He never checked on them, and his herbs were poisoned with the hidden deathberries from his own store. Who else could have poisoned the herbs other than Cowtuft, if no one knew they were there? Not only that, but he never even considered it to be a possibility even after the most recent Gathering, and Leafspot died because of that. Why Cowtuft would do this on purpose, I can't say. All I know is that he was the only one who knew about those deathberries, and they were the ones that poisoned the herbs. If, somehow, it wasn't him, his negligence still led to the deaths of seven cats, including a kit and apprentice. Death is the only suitable punishment, or have we turned soft like RiverClan?"
Swiftfire whipped her gaze around to Fallownose. The WindClan deputy had returned to camp, and Swiftfire couldn't stop the way her eyes narrowed in displeasure at the deputy's quick assertion that death was the only option. The fur along the tortoiseshell's spine lifted as anger began to make her claws prick and itch.
"Cowtuft confessed to his part of negligence. To assume he acted with intent is jumping to conclusions none of us should be making!" The she-cat growled, "Are we just lawless rogues now, Fallownose? Since when has a warrior ever called for death to justify death? We have more honor and respect for life than that. Wishing for death makes none of us any better than the accusations of murder being thrown at Cowtuft when the only true information we have is that yes, he hid the berries. He kept them a secret which resulted in some terrible consequences that has deeply hurt the Clan....but you are acting like he has malice with this truth? StarClan's sake, we're hopeless if we do nothing but unleash our claws at each other before the entire story is presented..."
Swiftfire shook her head, "That is just disgusting to to stoop so low."
Last edited by Tiabirb; December 31st, 2023 at 01:25 PM.
(WARNING: This post contains internalized ableism and mentions of abuse. Viewer discretion is advised.)
~ TWISTEDPAW OF WINDCLAN - AFAB SHE/HER ~
Small, skinny black she-cat with a light gray belly and tail-tip, a crooked jaw, a mangled tail, and one blind eye.
Twistedpaw didn't interact much with her Clanmates, but she'd been on the fringe of recent Clan events.
And they'd been horrible.
Each new death sent a pang of grief and fear through her heart. What was killing her Clanmates? Some kind of illness? Was it contagious? Even though Twistedpaw's self-worth wasn't the best, it was growing. And she'd realized: She didn't want to die. She liked her life in WindClan. She liked living. Even if she was ugly and deformed and had torn her family apart. And that wasn't selfish. Twistedpaw wanted to be the best warrior she could, both for Willowsky and for... herself. This was a big realization to make, but she was glad she had. Please keep Fireflame and Brightpaw safe, she prayed. Twistedpaw stayed away from most other cats, so she was hoping she wouldn't catch it, but her foster mother and sister... She shuddered inwardly and tried to push the unpleasant thought from her mind.
They're okay, she reminded herself as it tried to stick. They're okay. Batglare's okay, too. It'll be okay.
Then a piercing yowl assaulted Twistedpaw's too-small ears, making her jerk her head up with a distorted squeal. Embarrassment seared her like the flames of that long-ago fire, the one which had destroyed her former home, but the haunting memory was brief as she poked her head out of the warm confines of the apprentices' den and beheld Twilightstar. She wasn't even standing on the Breezerock, instead holding command over... something brown. Twistedpaw frowned, briefly forgetting about the icy wind that tickled her face. A deep concentration settled over her. Were those darker markings? Was it furry? Cats were crowding in, letting out noises of shock and blocking off the black she-cat's view.
Something niggled the back of her mind. It sent a jolt of alarm through Twistedpaw, sparks dancing at her paws and urging her to run from it. But why? she wondered.
Then she realized right as Twilightstar made her announcement.
Twistedpaw reeled backward, the warm green embrace of the apprentices' den lost as horror thrilled through her. That was a cat. Someone named Leafsong. Impulsive tears filled her eyes, making her limited field of vision swim as if obscured by smoke. Another dead cat... She sniffled. When would this end? She didn't want anyone to die or get hurt. Of course, these things happened in a Clan. She'd learned that long ago. However, that didn't make it any less scary - or horrifying.
But Twistedpaw hardly had time to process the body before Twilightstar's announcement blew everything else out of the water. The cause had been found by Lightningstorm, the newest medicine cat: Deathberries. Deathberries that had poisoned the herb stores. And Cowtuft was to be punished for negligence.
She jerked her small, round head back. What? Why was Cowtuft being punished? He couldn't have known about the berries! And Lightningstorm had missed them, too!
Voices, so many voices, rose up, either in defense of Cowtuft or calling for punishment. They were a black cloud closing in on Twistedpaw, pressing on all sides and cutting off her air. It was a nightmare. Her beloved Cowtuft, so kind, so gentle, so sweet... skilled at caring for his Clan... who had promised to make flower crowns with her someday... being threatened with demotion. Exile. Death. Twistedpaw wanted to vomit. Her insides were becoming as twisted as her tail. She felt her legs tremble, and she swayed violently. This can't be happening! It couldn't. It just couldn't.
Twistedpaw wished she could do something, anything. But her tongue was as knotted up as her intestines, her throat too constricted to form syllables. She wanted to block it all out, but she couldn't. Her paws were stuck to the ground, her ears forced open to listen to this dance of defamation to someone whom she cared for dearly.
Where is he? The apprentice was struck by a sudden desperation to see Cowtuft. What must he think of all this? Would she ever see him again? I have to! He couldn't be exiled. Twilightstar was fair. How could so many of their Clanmates even think...
There he is. Twistedpaw saw him, gesturing frantically, floppy ears wiggling everywhere. She knew a bit of his paw language, but not enough to decipher it from here. More tears sprang to her eyes, stinging like smoke, and carved hot paths down her cheeks. This all felt like a bad dream. A horrible, horrible dream. She just wanted to press herself into him and feel his long, soft waves of fur, tell him it would be okay. But she was scared it wouldn't be.
It wouldn't be.
But it has to be.
Someone in the crowd translated Cowtuft's gestures. The revelation brought Twistedpaw up short. He brought the deathberries into camp? But why? Twistedpaw shook her head, hardly registering the flop of her crooked jaw for once. Cowtuft would never harm his Clanmates intentionally. And if he'd brought deathberries into camp, there had to be a reason.
But what could Twistedpaw say or do? She was just a measly apprentice. Ugly, not able-bodied like most of her Clanmates. Worse off than all of them. Nobody would listen to her. Did she want to put herself in the line of fire, voicing an opinion nobody would care about? Because Twistedpaw... Well, she was next to worthless.
...Am I?
Twistedpaw's skinny body tensed. That sort of thought had rarely crossed her mind before.
Batglare had told her all the time that she was worth something and that he'd help her see it. Twistedpaw had found it hard to believe him. She was less than average. Revolting. Worthless to her Clanmates. Even if they'd treated her kindly.
Treated her kindly.
When was the last time she'd gotten a scathing remark? Sure, some looks thrown her way were standard, but nobody had gone out of their way to hurt her.
Twistedpaw's head began to spin even more.
Brightpaw and Fireflame had always stood by her side, too. Encouraged her. Twilightstar herself respected Twistedpaw.
And if she had the leader's respect... who was to say she couldn't find some way to protect Cowtuft?
Twistedpaw began to shake. The thought of stepping in front of him, of exposing herself to all her Clanmates, was terrifying. She didn't want to be the object of their attention. But all the same, a little ball of determination was glowing in her chest, growing and growing until it became too much to bear.
Fallownose was now preaching to WindClan about the deaths, declaring Cowtuft should get the same punishment for what had happened. That made it even scarier. She respected the deputy; he was a high rank. But a distinct parallel was presenting itself. He'd been responsible for Willowsky's exile. Now he was promoting Cowtuft's death.
She hadn't been able to save Willowsky. So she had to save Cowtuft.
Twistedpaw took a deep breath. Without letting herself think more deeply about what she was doing, she threw herself forward. Her legs carried her on a swift breeze, the cold shock of air against her face an afterthought, the side lurches her tail made her perform hardly noticeable. If anything, she'd probably never run in such a straight line before. Twistedpaw aimed for the massive, fluffy, loveable form of Cowtuft and skidded to a halt in front of him. How she longed to press into his warm, furry side, feel his familiar, fatherly comfort, but Twistedpaw refrained. There was something else she needed to do. Lifting her head high, she turned and faced Cowtuft's persecutors.
Her heart froze in her chest.
Why did I think this was a good idea?
Every eye was on her, and if anything, she was only invoking their wrath. Putting her horrible, broken self out there for all to view. Twistedpaw's ears pinned back, so small they vanished the instant they pressed against her round head, and she began to tremble so hard she feared she might topple over. Her brain was frozen, the leaf-bare air nothing compared to the ice in her blood.
She couldn't do this. She was going to fail Cowtuft.
She was a failure.
You have to do this, Twistedpaw! Think! Her own inner dialogue, surprisingly firm, jolted her to attention. Twistedpaw blinked, aware of the fear-scent rolling off of her pelt and the breath clouding in front of her face.
You couldn't protect Willowsky, but you can protect Cowtuft. He was like a father to her, but unlike her mother, he'd always been there for comfort, love, and reassurance.
"W-w-we c-can't..." she began, her voice more awful than usual due to the cold, moist air and the fear shooting through her. No! They won't understand you! Twistedpaw shook herself and continued, looking around and even forcing herself to meet Fallownose's ruthless amber gaze.
"W-we can't exile him. C-cowtuft's been a g-good medicine c-cat. He m-must've had a r-reason for b-bringing deathberries into c-camp. H-he never m-meant to h-hurt anyb-body!" She was still shaking, her stomach roiling, but that burning feeling in her chest kept her upright, focusing on the massive crowd. "D-don't intentions m-matter? All h-his life, C-cowtuft has s-served his C-clan. He's s-so kind, and g-gentle... D-do you th-think he w-wanted to poison his Cl-Clanmates? N-no! He w-would never! And k-killing him... th-that's sp-spitting on the w-warrior code!"
Twistedpaw looked frantically around the clearing. Twilightstar had called for some kind of punishment. Exile and death wouldn't cut it for her. They couldn't possibly do such a thing. She continued to look around; in the end, she gazed pleadingly at Twilightstar, her one working eye boring into the leader's only one.
"If y-you must p-punish him, if y-you don't t-trust him around th-the stores..." It was so painful even suggesting it, but Twistedpaw knew she had to provide some alternative. "D-demote him. T-to a warrior or an e-elder or s-something. B-but please, d-don't hurt him! D-don't exile him! H-he's a g-good cat. He j-just made a m-mistake. P-please..." More tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto the soggy earth. Twistedpaw was still terrified, wondering about the repercussions, the backlash she would face. But she forced her head to lift and her bony shoulders to square. She needed confidence, or else nobody would listen to her.
An offwhite she-cat, with brown, black, dark gray speckles, and blue/green heterochromia.
VC: a light Hungarian + British accent; a purr after every "r."
Maplekit heard about what Fallownose said, and she whipped around, back arched.
"We are not like RiverClan!" She yowled, her purring accent non-existent in her sentence. How dare he compare everyone here to RiverClan? "Just because we have morrrals, does not mean we'rrre soft!"
Maplekit was just huffing and puffing. Her icy stare hopped from cat, to cat, to Cowtuft. Anger suddenly started to boil and rise to the surface, and for some reason, it seemed directed at Cowtuft. She wanted to claw his eyes out and yowl at him.
Why would you stupidly bring deathberries into camp?!
But, before she could say or do more, Twistedpaw, an apprentice that Maplekit had seen and heard of a few times, came and spoke out against everyone. It was something about how Cowtuft was a good cat and that nobody should hurt him, and that perhaps a demotion would be better than death.
Maplekit was silent for a moment.
"if y-you don't t-trust him around th-the stores... . . . D-demote him. T-to a warrior or an e-elder or s-something. B-but please, d-don't hurt him! D-don't exile him! H-he's a g-good cat.
He j-just made a m-mistake.
P-please..."
Just a mistake?
Oh, it was much worse than that.
"Twistedpaw, cats have died because of his 'mistake,' including a kit and apprentice!" Maplekit's voice raised towards the end of her sentence, until it was a full on yowl.
Then, she was silent.
Maplekit took a few breaths.
"Although, I'm not saying we should kill him. Demoting is a good idea." Although, what would Maplekit know?
Leechscar lingered on the fringe of the clearing, ears lifted high as voices and yowls split the air. The warrior wasn't interested in getting involved with the medicine cat's fate, more than enough cats were screeching and arguing about what to do with him. He was certain his mother had enough opinion to make a prompt decision. However, the ones that were yowling about Cowtuft innocents were featherbrains with too much fluff in their ears.
Twilightstar has already decided that Cowtuft is guilty, perhaps not with intent to harm, but with neglect that cost the lives of several clanmates. He wasn't getting off without a punishment, Twilightstar just wanted to know how severe said punishment should be. Leechscar hoped the tom was either exiled or executed, exiled preferred. Cowtuft was the one who brought poison into the clan, left it unguarded, and failed to monitor his herb stock.
He kept being praised for his service to the clan, yet for all his experience or service couldn't even conclude that maybe the herbs were the problem. Outside of their medicine cats, the rest of the clan wasn't trained in herbs, and it's literally in their job description to figure out how to heal the clan when they were sick. It was their duty to figure out what was going on not the rest of the clans. Leechscar didn't think Lightningstorm had half of Cowtuft's experience, and he could understand why Twilightstar was exempting Lightingstorm from this trail altogether.
Anyway, since the word traitor was being passed around could he finally start digging deeper into that? He already asked Twilightstar and got scolded about it. Maybe now she'll finally start listening to reason. The tom's green eyes focused on Twilightstar as the cats went back and forth. Hopefully, she'll make a decision and settle this soon.
Leechscar's turned his cool gaze over to the crying apprentice, Twistedpaw as she began to speak in defense of Cowtuft. Batglare must have been doing a decent job with training her if she was actively speaking out more, her confidence building. His attention drifted back over to Twilightstar as he quickly refuted the paw's words.
"Regardless of how good his intentions were or his reasoning, he did bring poison into the clan, and that poison was used to kill multiple of our clanmates. Even if he didn't actively go out of his way to poison the herbs, he still has a responsibility as a well-seasoned medicine cat to ensure that something like this doesn't happen. And he failed, his failure and neglect cost lives."
"Demoting, though fair, isn't enough. Why should he be allowed to stay with us, eat our prey, sleep in our dens, and be provided with our protection when those he killed, directly or indirectly, can no longer be given the same? I believe exile would be an acceptable punishment. It's not because I believe that execution is too cruel, I think it's too merciful. Being executed by you, Twilightstar, or any other WindClan cat is far too much of an honorable death for him. Being forced to live out the rest of your days and never being allowed to return to the home you love seems more fitting than being cast to the stars."
"Those that died to the poison died an unjust and abrupt death. Ripped away from everything they knew and loved, some before they even got to truly experience life. I can only imagine how it felt to go to our medicine cat, someone they trusted to heal and take care of them, for aid. Only to find themselves in StarClan after taking herbs they thought would help them. No chances to say goodbye or even fathom that death could be in a realm of possibilities. There was no honor in their deaths, so I don't see why he should be given such mercy. Even if it was a simple mistake, the reality is that it caused the clan pain and suffering that most likely could have been avoided." Leechscar told her.
If Cowtuft died it should be a death by some lowly predator or outsider. Leechscar would prefer that than having Twilightstar execute him. Being killed by one of the most honorable cats to walk amongst the clan seemed to be kind. There was no need to have Cowtuft's death on Twilightstar's conscience either.
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
Hawkfur
Windclan
he/him | 46 moons
[Deep russet tabby with blue eyes and a white chest muzzle and paws]
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[Fallownose - @Lillith ] [Swiftfire - @Tiabirb ]
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Hawkfur gasped as Fallownose stepped in with his take on the situation, horror dawning in his eyes. "Fallownose," he began, "if we kill him then we are no better than Shadowclan! If he had actually intended to kill them then sure, I would agree with you. But he--he said it--" Hawkfur stumbled over his words, and for the first time of the night anger boiled over in his chest, and he cursed loudly, gouging his claws into the clearing ground. Cowtuft had said it was not on purpose, but could Hawkfur really believe him? After everything? But even still, the idea of killing the medicine cat didn't sit right with him. Swiftfire's words helped stabilize his thoughts, and he cast the she-cat a grateful look. "Exile him from the territories. That way, he can't hurt anyone, and we don't execute a medicine cat." Executing someone horrified Hawkfur, even more so if it was a medicine cat. It felt blasphemous. "We cannot kill him."
It was then Leechscar said his piece, and Hawkfur watched the tom as he explained his thoughts. Hawkfur agreed that demotion was too light, and that keeping Cowtuft within the safety of the clan was something he did not deserve. Death, and having to face the judgement of the cats he inadvertently killed... that was something Cowtuft would have to deal with one way or another. Exile meant isolation, meant Cowtuft would suffer on his own, and perhaps live out his life and atone. If one could even atone for this. Maybe he would lose contact with Starclan fully, leaving him to die without the solace of knowing he would return to his ancestors. That was true punishment, in Hawkfur's eyes. Regardless if death was too good for Cowtuft, Hawkfur was certain that killing another cat after so much death was the last thing they should be doing.
Bravebird
She/her | 41 moons | Beefed Up T3 • One with the Warren
Others spoke up in favor of exile, which Bravebird was not surprised about in the slightest. Perhaps they shared her mindset, that any other punishment was not cruel enough. The cats that Cowtuft had killed - directly or indirectly - were ripped from their home without any choice in the matter. It was only fair that he receive the same treatment.
She cared little for the wails of those calling for his innocence, but tried to ignore the pleading look that Firestorm cast her. The kid was young and too naive for this, especially if their patrol to the RiverClan border was anything to go off of. She didn't have the guts to see what was truly needed to be done, couldn't see past her blind loyalty and dedication to Cowtuft. Part of her admired that.
Wolffang's words were met with flattened ears and a scathing glare; her respect for the once idolized warrior had diminished like melting snow and she no longer cared for his opinion. Even as he backtracked and realized what Cowtuft had been saying, he made no move to change his opinion on the punishment.
A voice that had chastised her at the last meeting spoke up, and Brave glanced towards Leechscar. He spoke sense and dealt with the facts, and much to the lilac warrior's surprise she found that they shared the same mindset: death was too merciful. He had given the reason behind why exile was the right choice where she had refrained, but now she knew it was time to add her own voice.
It was difficult to ignore Fallownose's comparison of them to RiverClan, and Bravebird had to grit her teeth together and press her paws harder into the ground to steady herself. "Leechscar is right," she started, with a look to Twilightstar. "Death is far too merciful of an option for him. That would give him relief from his guilt." Her glare once again found the medicine cat - faltering momentarily before righting itself again. "If he is to die, it should happen without his Clan name, and without his status as a WindClan cat. Strip him of that, and toss him to the outskirts. WindClan has no place for cats who are blind to their own carelessness."
Deadmoon arrived rather late to the party, because of course she did. When was she ever on time for the dramatic deaths? What she had been able to glean so far, having arrived just in time for Lightningstorm and Cowtuft's statements, was that Leafspot was dead, and it had been discovered that herbs in the medicine den had been tainted with deathberries. This, according to the crowd and their medicine cat (though would he still be hailed with that title when this impromptu meeting was over?) was the cause of not only Leafspot's death but Berryfrosts and Twigpaws and the others on that......not bloody, but sad day.
Her emotions about that were felt with a degree of separation, and a selfish tint of relief. It wasn't her, or Rookie, or Wolfie or Snowy who had been poisoned, though it might have been kinder if Snowybreeze had been. Alongside his mate. This was Deadmoon's true selfishness brought to bare, which she didn't particularly like thinking on. She was glad that her former apprentice had survived because it made her happy. But he himself was sad. If she truly cared, wouldn't she want him to be happy and her to be sad? Sad didn't even begin to describe it. Deadmoon herself mourned the loss of their clanmates as much as one could without a direct relation, and Berryfrost more so because of the suffering she knew it brought upon her fluffy son friend. But that relief was there.
This, of course, was her rejection of the title of mother when he had accidentally bestowed it upon her. She couldn't be a mother when she thought like this. Look at Peachfrost. She was a decent adopted mother. She had gone to war for her kit, and been exiled as a result. Deadmoon had hardly said a word, despite her own ties, however in the second degree, they were. She was always like this. She hadn't been able to talk to Snowy since, even. Giving him space was her rationale at the time, but clearly it was faulty. Wolffang was actively next to him. Closer than she'd been. Because of course her brother knew what to do. He always knew what he was doing. She never did. Always the wrong choice. Incapable of anything resembling emotional maturity, deflecting at every turn.
Would she even mourn if it WAS Wolffang or Rookscreech laid out in front of the whole clan, instead of Leafspot? Or would her mind simply assuage her sadness that they would no longer be there with 'at least it wasn't me'. Would she even care if Creekpelt suddenly no longer met her at a Gathering? Even more selfishly, was she not glad that Cowtuft was being singularly selected as the point of guilt? Sure there were a few smattered calls at Lightningstorm, but by and large the supply chain of the poisoned herbs had been ignored. Deadmoon was happy about that, because she had been part of that supply chain. She could have made the mistake. She was no expert at sign language, quite the opposite in fact, and went based on color and perhaps a few other bits she picked up alone. What if she had been part of the problem? What if her foolishness, lack of attention to detail, had resulted in some of the deaths?
She didn't fully understand what Cowtuft had explained, but based upon the outcry from Scorchedfant, Bravebird, Wolffang and Fallownose (cats she trusted not to be completely insane or misrepresent facts) and the reaction from Lightningstorm, who previously had seemed completely loyal to Cowtuft, the deathberries had been brought to the camp by the tom himself. How he had managed that without poisoning himself she didn't know. Or maybe he had sent a patrol out after them? Just......red berries, like the one now rotted and barely recognizable in the clearing. She would have seen no trouble picking them. She couldn't remember now what she had picked beyond the yellow things of the most recent patrol.
Of course the source didn't really matter. How they'd gotten on the herbs did, and it seemed to her no one was really questioning that. Lightningstorm didn't know about them, Cowtuft claimed not to have done it intentionally (or so she assumed). Had some other cat known what they were and done it? Who would even know where to look, let alone what the berries did? Perhaps it was simply a horrid accident, things getting mixed together and juice landing on herbs. If it was, it was an accident which had cost the clan seven lives. Nine, you could even say. For Peachfrost was no longer sit them, and Snowybreeze could hardly be counted as vibrant as he once was. Always quiet, but quieter still. And you've done nothing to help that. her mind reminded her, traitor that it was. Even Wolffang is more helpful than you and he barely knows him. That might not be true, but she didn't know of any specific connection between the two of them beyond the fact that they had to put up with her. Perhaps they had a support group with Rookscreech every moon. Maybe looped Creekpelt in. "Dealing with Deadmoon". Sounded kind of catchy, actually.
Shaking her head, Deadmoon mentally reprimanded herself. A cat had just DIED, Windclan was trying to decide whether to demote, exile or kill their medicine cat for Starclan's sake. What was she doing, thinking about such trivial things. Useless thoughts. She had to focus. Wolffang actually had decent things to say, she needed to be more like that. Even SNOWYBREEZE (not that there was any 'only' about it, he was more soft-spoken, that was all) had something useful to say. Being agreed with by Wolffang. She doubted she could come up with anything original. The best she could offer was that she was detached and sucked at emotions so she wasn't letting her emotions get the best of her like a few of her clanmates probably were.
It was silly. Stupid, really. How intensely her emotions could be felt when certain cats were involved, and how hopelessly unempathetic she was at other times. Her emotions were always so damn confusing, so it was probably for the best. When she did have them it tended to be a gush, that led to stupid, snap decisions. She was getting better, not being a complete idiot when the 'mom' fiasco occurred was a start, but poor Rookie and Wolfie had already been subjected to a gush each, in Rookscreech's case three or four. And she was thinking again. And being useless. Might as well keep her mouth shut at this point.
No, she WAS going to say something. She wasn't scared of public speaking, or anything. She wasn't shy, in small groups she could be the most talkative one, albeit in a joking, scathing sort of way. She just had to say, like, five words. Get out of her starsdamned head for a second. Deadmoon tried a few deep breaths, which had about as much effect as any herbs were likely to have on brining Leafspots back to life. Nice.
Exile. her own contribution surprised her, in how sudden it was. Demotion might be better but we have to rule out possible causes. If it was Cowtuft, accidental or otherwise he could still be lying, that couldn't be discounted, though it seemed unlikely we have to be sure he can't get back to the herbs. If poisonings continue Starclan forbid, though Starclan didn't seem to care too much as far as she could tell we know its not him. There would be a whole other witchhunt if such a scenario came to pass, and there was the possibility of him sneaking back (though he was probably too large to be that stealthy) along with other holes, but Deadmoon's logic centers were unreliable at best. If a clear culprit is found she really doubted it, but hey, think positive we could always bring him back as a warrior. Or something. Though how likely that was in practice......that was pretty low. Him living and being findable in the Outskirts was a gamble, and she doubted that, especially now, they'd be able to find a true culprit, if such a thing even existed.
(Open!!)
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Last edited by gs29513; December 31st, 2023 at 04:59 PM.
Re: WindClan Clearing
