The Starcave

[Rose]

Larkfire
She/Her | Purrks Overlook

Uneasiness. It prickled at the base of her neck, and then crawled down her spine, mimicking the path the burning rake of claws had taken earlier. Wolverine's moods were as unpredictable as her mother's (her third mother's, to be precise), and after spending moons in the scarred tabby's presence, Larkfire had learned never to let her guard down, no matter how calm her companion seemed.

Wary gaze resting on her great-grandfather, Larkfire listened in silence to his words, ignoring the sense of foreboding hovering at the edges of her mind. She would not die today, or the next day, or the one after that. She would live, because she had a litter to give birth to, there was life growing within her, and she owed it to Darkfall to see this through. He'd already lost so much family. She'd not allow him to lose more -- she'd not be the reason he lost any more.

Wolverine's next words hit like a punch to the gut. It wasn't the insult that wounded her, oh no. It was a nickname that scraped Larkfire raw, that sent her back in time to another life, when Dappledleaf had been her caretaker.

‘Larkfire, my little bird.’

‘Thank you, my little bird.’

‘My little bird? May I come and sit with you, darling?’

Larkfire's breath came out in a short, harsh exhale as she battled with herself not to reveal how unstable the nickname made her. The memories flicked by, insistent and nagging, but the Medicine Cat pushed them away. Dappledleaf was dead to her -- had long since been dead to her. Attention zeroing in on Wolverine as the older feline granted ... her wish?, but did not tell her the cost, Larkfire parted her maw to argue, but was cut short by his next words.

“What’s wrong with my name?” She asked warily instead.

[ @BEAR. - Wolverine ]

[BEAR.]

"Well, there certainly isn't anything right about it. You went from one of ShadowClan's finest to a cat groveling to the dead for salvation. What does that tell you?"

Almost a rhetorical question, really. Wolverine didn't want her answer. "It tells me, going forward your name should be stripped. You are no longer Larkfire, a blazing beacon of ShadowClan's prowess, but Lostspark-- the new medicine cat with a lot to work toward. Reignite your passion and prove the flame within still burns, and you may find yourself in the sky's graces again.

"But until then, wake up Lostspark. You will find the key to your immediate survival near the cave's edge."

A dismissive lash of his tail, indicating the conclusion of the dream. Lostspark would likely find the waking world to be less than pleasant.

[ @Rose ]

[Rose]

Lostspark
She/Her | Purrks Overlook

The sinking feeling in her gut only seemed to worsen, to become more prominent as Wolverine continued to speak, oh-so-casually placing down her worst of failures and serving it to her on a golden platter. What did it tell her, that she'd fallen so far? That she'd fallen from the elite so quickly, so effortlessly?

Her stance only stiffened, jaw only clenched, almost to the point of being painful, as her great-grandfather stripped her of her name. The name she'd earned, after spending moons in ShadowClan. The name she'd earned, the one Dawnstar, her mother, had given her.

Gone. It was gone, just like that.

And this time, Larkfire did not open her mouth to argue. She just stood there, silent, ignoring the raw ache in her chest, glassy amber eyes cold and unfeeling as she was sent back to the mortal realm.

"Bleeding burning skies." It was the first thing she said, cursing through gritted teeth, wheezing as the pain ripped through her body anew, practically choking for a moment before she spat out the blood that'd seeped into her mouth.

The heady taste of betrayal sat heavily on her tongue, a mockery of her faint hope. She was an utter, delusional fool, for thinking there was a chance of survival for any relationship with this so-called kin of hers; Wolverine. At least he'd crushed that hope from the start instead of letting it dwindle on and then ultimately letting her down like all the others had done. Maybe it was karma that followed her, because she'd been the one to let Fablespinner down.

Figures, that it was an endless cycle of no party ever being satisfied. That all these moons later, she was still letting everyone important down.

Fine, then. She would do this. She would drag herself the heck out of here, she would live, would thrive, because Wolverine wasn't wrong. She had lost her fire, but there was nothing that would stop Lostspark from getting it back. The world was dark once more, and her sight was lost to her once again, but she would fight that darkness at every turn, she would fight to let the fire within flare as it had before.

[ @/BEAR. - Wolverine ]

[Rose]

Lostspark

She/Her | Purrks Overlook

Here she was again. Nearly three moons later. This time, though, there had been no scents of a dead mentor to guide her. Only her scent lingered here, a whispered secret the winds carried. Lostspark was seeing this path with her vision for the first time. Each step brought her to that cave, the only way she currently knew how to contact a cat long dead.

Wolverine.

Grandfather to her mother, biological or no. Each step was a reminiscent of the past - she had walked this same path once before, but each movement had been an awkward jerk, limbs heavy, paws stumbling, face bleeding, eyes sightless, heart broken. Now, a reformed cat stood where once she'd been shattered, an unmoving pillar of stone and in full health in comparison to the feline who had once barely clung to life, shivering and pathetic.

Lips curling up in a fanged grin, Lostspark adjusted her hold on the... item clutched in her mouth, careful not to press down too hard on it lest it break as she waltzed past the Starcave's entrance. The tunnel was dark, just as she'd presumed, but every one of Lostspark's steps was certain and sure, gaze flitting briefly to the dark, unmistakable stain of blood on the floor. Huh, she'd made quite the mess here during her last visit, had she? No matter. This place would do well to remember her long after she, too, was gone.

Setting down the gift she carried with her, Lostspark slowly approached the large crystal that seemed to emit light all on it's own, a fallen star, dimmed on the ground. She knew this stone, knew that it hid the secrets of the Stars and the Starless within it's beckoning depths. So with a satisfied exhale that this cave had been real - that it had not been a figment of her imagination, an illusion - Lostspark lowered herself to the ground and pressed her muzzle to the crystal's cold surface.

There was no burning scrape of claws this time, or maybe there was, for all Lostspark felt the brief, phantom caress of something not of this world, a whisper of an embrace before the Starcave dimmed, and Lostspark was plunged back into a world of darkness.

When she'd blinked the darkness into focus, Lostspark took her time surveying her surroundings. And then finally, finally, she turned in the direction of the cat she'd come here to see. “Salutations, Wolverine, kin of my kin, as you so nicely put it last time. I’d say it’s a surprise to see you again, but I can only hope you were expecting me just as much as I was expecting you.” The tip of Lostspark’s fluffy tail flicked against the ground, back and forth, almost absentmindedly.

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, shame on both of us.” The Medicine Cat laughed, the sound low and bitter and .. strangely amused. Dark and ringing hollow, but filled with the shadows she belonged to. “You wanted the spark – here it is. So I suppose, in a twisted way, I should be thanking your insight.” The lithe grey feline angled her head to the side in silent acknowledgment.

Glassy amber eyes turned to the side, far away, toward the dark horizon. “I tried to make my peace with you, Wolverine. But peace is not what you seek, is it?” She hated it. Hated the power he had over her. Because even though she refused to bow now to his whims, they both still knew she was back here again. At his mercy. Surrounded by his world.

And yet… Lostspark found that she did not particularly care. She was the one who would atone for her sins, those that she’d committed from the first of her breaths to her last. Full of contradictions, she was, but they fit.

But there was a sense of closure Lostspark could bring to this. She didn’t want to harbor the hate until it poisoned her from the inside out. Did not want to live in fear, as she had for so many moons with Fablespinner until she’d realized… realized how frail and weak her mother was, grappling at vines too far out of reach. Maybe Fablespinner had not been bestowed enough love in life, and it had made her bitter and hateful beyond belief — or maybe Fablespinner had been spoiled with too much love that she now didn’t know how to live without it.

She could forgive, could let go of this, and be free of it. So instead of spitting any more venom that would get her nowhere, the Medicine Cat shut her eyes, brows furrowing for a moment as she attempted something she wasn’t even sure was possible – conjuring the rat skull she’d brought along with her into this… dreamscape. She peered curiously down at the skeletal thing a moment. “Huh, I was not sure it would work. I can bring something bigger next time.” She mused mostly to herself, and then, louder; “A gift, of goodwill, I suppose.” Lostspark raised her gaze to the dark-furred maine coon she was facing.

The Medicine Cat smiled, and it was a vicious thing, white fangs a flash in the dark. “I will grow my wings again, Grandfather of my Mother. I will reclaim my place in ShadowClan, I will take back my name.”

[ @BEAR. - Wolverine ]

[BEAR.]

He really ought to start cleaning the place up if cats were going to insist on visiting. Wolverine wasn't accustomed to so many guests, used to the solitude that came with an exile to the pits of hell. But here they were, an insolent grandkit tantruming her way into his home.

In all honestly, he was neither shocked or impressed. His blank stare at her as she started blabbering away was telling of his indifference to her strife. "It can hardly be a surprise, my dear, when you've been stewing on this for so long." He knew it was coming as soon as she made her wish, had anticipated it - and the wait to meet her ire was only worth the amusement that stirred in his chest.

"Fool you? Well, that's funny coming from the cat who didn't care for consequences. That is on your conscious, not mine." Perhaps if she read the fine print before signing a devil's contract, she wouldn't be in this spot. "A lack of poor planning on your part does not constitute a sin on mine. You had no second thoughts, and that impulse cost your children quite dearly, didn't it? Selfish desires often do bring pain to others, after all." Go ahead and cancel him, Wolverine already had a paw in the door with one of her kids. The others would follow soon enough. "Being detached from them won't heal the suffering you caused, it will only let it simmer and grow. Remember that, little bird."

Wolverine dismissively eyed the rat skull, scooping it toward him with a flick of his paw. "Peace is not what the wicked receive, Lostspark. To survive, you must be willing to do anything to stay ahead - and a skull only symbolizes your inevitable demise." Until death ceased to be, peace would not exist. It was merely the game of life.

He quirked a brow at her. "You will or you are? Speak with your chest, kitten. You sputter like a flame in the wind."

[ @Rose ]

[Rose]

Lostspark
She/Her | Purrks Overlook

Lips pressing into a thin line, Lostspark listened to her great-grandfather in silence. He was not wrong, not entirely. And in the end, there was no use arguing. Arguing with a dead cat was like gossiping with a kittypet who had nothing better to do. (And by skies, Lostspark had already had to sit in and listen to a kittypet blabber on and on during her kithood days. It was not a repeat-worthy experience).

She had been selfish. She could not deny it. It pained to admit to it, but Lostspark could not live in denial. Changing the past was not an option, and never would be, but her future path? That, she could forge on her own. How could she reach her children when they refused to be compliant? When all some of them saw in her were faults upon faults? Was that who she'd become? Was that who she wished to be? No, it wasn't Wolverine's words, no matter how venomous, held meaning. Lostspark would be the fool she'd labeled herself as already to ignore the lingering connotation behind them.

So lost in thought, the lithe grey Medicine Cat nearly missed Wolverine's moniker for her. He'd used it before, but this time it did not make her blaze from the inside out with pain. Dappledleaf was long gone, a cat of a time past her.

Cracking a vague yet humorless smile, Lostspark glanced towards the owner of this swamp-ridden hell hole. "Little bird," She repeated, straightening up. "I have one of my own now, and the cat who once called me such has been dead numerous moons, but it likely matters little to you." Dappledleaf's death did not bring Lostspark strife still - not since she'd realized that Dawnstar was the best mother she ever could have asked for.

Someone she could actually hope to model herself after. Both Fablespinner and Dappledleaf had ultimately failed to be prospective role models.

Blinking back into the present, Lostspark gazed at her kin. "We'll just have to see, won't we? I've already made enough promises in advance as it is, now the question is whether I will deliver. And perhaps, even if I do waver, at the very least I have found the means to reclaim my flame." Lostspark could not describe the hollow feeling in her chest, but she did know that for now, there was no more reason for her to return here anymore. She already knew what she would do next from here on out. The next time Lostspark would be here would be for Mossfreckle's ceremony.

Being grateful had never killed anyone - she still had manners where they were due. "So thank you, for the lesson you've taught me. And I suppose I won't be seeing you again for a while."

[ @BEAR. - Wolverine | Post is a bit meh, but here we are. ]

[BEAR.]

"You might have your own little bird, but you'll always be one to me." Wolverine was watching his granddaughter carefully - observing the distant look she had in her eye as she swallowed his former words with grace. This was far from the pathetic little worm that had crept into his nest, seeking salvation while drowning in a pool of despair. No, the last few moons, being challenged to be better, seemed to have brought out the cat that inhabited her before she became a shell of her former self.

He liked it. She was displaying behaviors a true ShadowClan cat should have: pride and confidence. A willingness to take a challenge on without being held back by the fear of failure. "So we will." Failure or not, Wolverine wanted her to have a backbone. Even after he tore her down, she remained upright - her gaze sharp and meaningful. "Maintain your posture, kitten. Keep your head up against the upcoming storms and you will prevail. Your wings may bend and break beneath the wind, but as long as you allow your flame to burn within you will not truly falter."

A step forward, the rat skull released to disappear behind his daunting form. "Oh, the swamp's always open to you if you decide to come by again. I never turn my family away." Besides, despite everything he liked her company - if she were any feistier, she might remind him of his daughter. "A parting gift, for now. I am not blind, little lark - I know progress when I see it, and effort is to be rewarded.

"Consider the name Lostspark no more, for the cat who earned that name is dead. Go forth as Larkrise: your growing passion is the start of a new era and will serve as a catalyst to spurring ShadowClan to success. Help Dawnstar get a grip on those tadpoles." A light bop against her forehead, and then he withdrew. "Don't be a stranger, now. Maybe bring dear Dawnstar along with you next time, it's been a while since I've seen her."

[ @Rose ]

[Rose]

Larkrise
She/Her | Purrks Overlook

A name. A new name, she had been given, and from Wolverine no less. If Lostspark - or, well, she supposed she was Larkrise now - had been less shocked, she likely would have found the situation amusing. But behind the surprise, behind the hint of mirth, Larkrise found genuine gratitude peeking out, waving it's arms wildly about to be noticed among her clamoring feelings. In the end, the partially redeemed molly felt the corners of her mouth tipping upward with... yikes, was she happy?

Wolverine was right, after all. Larkrise was no Lostspark. Hell, Larkrise was not even Larkfire. She had noticed somewhere along the way that Larkfire had died when she'd been blinded, and now Lostspark was dead too, brought out from her grief and into a new light.

Larkfire had been a trapped candle flame that'd burned so bright it'd doused itself.

Lostspark had been a barely glowing ember in the ashes, alone in its struggle, surrounded by the dead.

Larkrise had wings, like the bird she'd been named after. Larkrise had the means to take flight.

Amusement and appreciation warred between one another to shine in Larkrise's fogged gaze as Wolverine stepped back after renaming her. She had been entirely prepared to say her piece and leave - but now? Now, Larkrise knew she'd found a tentative ally, that she could not back away and leave Wolverine to his solitude anymore. She would not thank Wolverine again, because she knew he was already aware of her gratitude, and because she knew she could offer something else that would mean much more than a simple 'thank you'. She could do him one better.

"If Dawnstar does not kick me out of ShadowClan for having visited you again after your parting gift from last time, I will mention meeting you again to her." Larkrise said, tone laced with merriment. She did not think her mother would be very displeased with this new update to her name, but one never knew, did they?

[ @BEAR. - Wolverine ]

[Omari]

Drizzlecloud
Thunderclan
She/her

The day that Drizzlecloud had finally decided that it was time, was the very same day as this moon's gathering. Why had she decided today, of all days? She was a little unsure, but nonetheless, it felt right. Today would be a big traveling day for the both of them, but it was an especially big day for Springpaw. The very day of her ceremony… Which she would be guiding. What a frightening thought! It made her anxious, but on the flipside, it filled her with excitement too. There were far too many emotions for her to process in this moment, though.

The eldest of the two healers had decided to leave early that morning, when the sun's light was just barely lighting up the forest floor. It made her head hurt less. If they could travel to the Starcave in a bit of a dimmer setting, perhaps the gathering that would follow would be less overwhelming. Perhaps her head would pound just that much less. She knew that all of the scents would cause her to reel, but she would just have to hope and pray that she'd be able to get through the day without toppling over and hacking up her breakfast from that morning.

During their trek to the cave, Drizzlecloud kept quiet for the most part. She guided Springpaw–albeit just a couple of pawsteps ahead of her–with her tail resting on one of her apprentice's shoulders, just to ensure that she stayed close… But, the action was made to whose benefit? Her own. The physical touch made her less anxious. Drizzlecloud's recent losses, that being the rest of her hearing, had left her grasping at all of the different ways that she could approach certain situations. There wasn't an ounce of hearing left for her to depend on anymore, so she had to depend on the rest of her senses, of course. It wasn't much of a concern to her, she knew that she would manage. It was just a learning curve, one that she thought she wouldn't have to experience ever again, not since kithood, not since her early apprentice moons, not since her selective mutism as a wee baby… But, here she was. Just as daunting as it had been all of those moons ago, but a little less scary. Not with all of the support that she had now–not with knowing that she was a capable individual.

Her attention shifted from the grass, eying the cave as they approached its open jaws. Green eyes flicked from the cave's opening to the grass again, then to her paws, and then to her apprentice. “You ready?” She asked softly, offering Springpaw a reassuring smile.

Drizzlecloud knew that she was ready. She knew from the very moment that she had woken up that day. After the panic had settled, there was a blanket of relief that seemed to have been draped gently over her in that moment just at the sight and the realization of Springpaw and what she had done that day. What she had done without guidance, what she had done when left to her own devices. Perfectly capable. Dedicated to her clan. What any good medicine cat should be, and Springpaw herself, at her very core, was Drizzlecloud's very own prideful example of that.

[ @vei LETS GO LETS GO WOOO ]

[iliri]

Springpaw
long-furred, oriental-shaped, gray-and-orange calico molly with blue eyes; torn right ear
purrks: herbal knowledge - tier 2 | the collector | mind reader | skip the steps[all perm. active; sts for battle training]

---

Today was quiet, almost too quiet for her mental sake. It had been a mostly silent walk up to the Starcave, but the occasional whistling and howling of the wind occasionally caught her off guard. She didn’t know why Drizzlecloud decided to choose today of all days to take her up to the Starcave. Given the past times that she had walked the very same path alongside her mentor up toward the looming cave, she hadn’t ever truly seen what it was like to delve into the stone-covered area itself. But, that didn’t explain why Drizzlecloud chose today to take her here. Wasn’t today espoused to be the day when the current gathering was going to occur? Her fur bristled against the whispers of the cool air lapping against her long-furred coat, signaling it’s abrupt arrival towards springtime. It felt nice, but not enough to ease her bumbling wonders for why she had been brought here. It certainly didn’t seem like it was anything urgent… but maybe… Drizzlecloud thought it was time? But then wouldn’t she have mentioned something about it? Maybe, or potentially she was just keeping it a secret for the young medic to learn in due time. It was mind-boggling to say, but she had been proposed to keep her jaws shut without saying anything to her mentor about the matter nonetheless.

Given how early it was, the night remained prominent with only softer strokes of dawn etching towards the edge of the world. The moon wasn’t dancing in the night sky anymore, having already retreated to the horizon. Springpaw couldn’t find herself not looking at the stars upon arrival at the cave, feeling memorized by the complexity of the inky darkness that once covered the sky. Its hues were colored in bits of indigo and violet as if it were awakening from a deep slumber. Springpaw’s focus on the awakening dawn soon faltered, focusing back on her mentor as she eyed her cautious movements. She didn’t want to risk seeing Drizzlecloud trip over her paws and accidentally fall due to her recent loss of hearing. The calico already knew of Drizzlecloud being half deaf, so it was unfortunate that she had lost the only remnants of her hearing that she had once left. Her stomach churned as she thought about the day of the raid and how she had to pitifully witness her mentor getting her head busted by that molly. It was a horrific sight, but at least she was able to save her before it was too late. As they approached the mouth of the cave, Springpaw felt the area around her growing colder, almost chilly, in a way.

Was this the way how their ancestors called to them? Springpaw couldn’t be so sure, and she felt herself channeling a feeling that she hadn’t felt in moons. Anxiety and a thrummed of nervousness. Why did she feel this way standing in front of the very place where medicine cats go to share tongues with their ancestors and for deputies to become leaders? Was it due to the wordless trek all the way here that Springpaw felt uncertain of what was to come before her? That last question sounded about right, as her attention shifted up towards her mentor as she asked if she was ready. Ready for what, to be exact? Ready to share tongues with StarClan and finally have a word with them after what had seemed to be moons? Her mind buzzed with questions and unwavering curiosity, she felt as if her stomach was churning with butterflies as her blue hues locked with her mentor’s gentle green, finally letting loose the nod that she was ready for whatever was about to come before her. “I’m ready.” The words felt pitiful to let loose out of her maw, but she mustered the courage to pull through. Whatever Drizzlecloud wanted to show her, she was going to face it and take it head on like she had for the last moons of her rank as medicine cat apprentice.

@Omari