Post by мικαcнʋ on Jan 15, 2018 14:02:11 GMT -5
As he waited for Stormstar, Dawntail allowed himself to zone out for a moment, his eyes beginning to lull close. The gathering had tired him, the diplomacies, while he understood their importance, were exhausting. Now that he was back in his camp, his home, he felt protected within it's rocky and shrub-covered walls.
He rapidly blinked to regain attention as he noticed Honeyheart walk into the camp, and at first, Dawntail's weariness melted away and quickly turned into joy. He looked at the kit that hung from the queen's jaws, a confused glint in his eyes. The kit swung loosely in Honeyheart's grasp, too loosely, it was as if it couldn't hold itself up properly. Then he saw the defeated look on Honeyheart, alien on the usually joyful queen, and it finally hit Dawntail that she had lost her kit.
Dawntail watched as she flopped over in the middle of the camp, burying her face into into her tiny daughter, as if prodding her to wake up. Appletree wasn't far behind his mate, quickly placing his surviving children into the nursery before returning to his mate's side, comforting her as she mourned her daughter. Dawntail felt the urge to go to the mourning pair, to try and comfort them but he refrained, staying still in his spot. He wasn't necessarily close to them and would give them their space, let them mourn without the pressures of their clanmates looming over them.
Then Aukwing's voice rang out among the camp and Dawntail stood up, alarmed as the tom pronounced another one of their clanmates dead. This time it was Fireflower, and Dawntail felt an ache when he realized he would no longer see the ginger tom.
Finally, Stormstar returned to the camp, and Dawntail looked at him with worried and saddened eyes, the tom still in disbelief at the amount of death that had happened in such a short span of time.
"One of Honeyheart's kits didn't make it... and Fireflower has died." The tom mewed, his voice soft as to not disturb his clanmates.
Airabelle
Pearpaw trudged into camp after Dawntail, tired and weary after the gathering. Her paw pads ached, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when she finally stepped into the camp. Getting to and back from the gathering had been the longest she had ever had to walk, and she was certainly feeling it.
Pearpaw beelined to her den, not waiting for Longstorm. She was sure her mentor would have a few words for her regarding their training session, but Pearpaw felt as if she would fall asleep standing if her spotted mentor decided to go into detail about tomorrow's training regimen.
She headed to the nursery, eager to snuggle up in her nest, hopefully with her father if he was feeling better. It took her a few moments to realize that she would no longer be sleeping in the nursery. She was an apprentice now, and her place was no longer in the nursery.
She turned around, leaving the small space behind her before making her way towards the apprentice den. Stepping into the cave-like structure, Pearpaw felt amazed at how spacious it felt, at least compared to the nursery, which had been growing smaller and smaller to the growing molly.
She looked around, trying to spot an empty nest that she could rest in. She sniffed around, trying to find one clear of the scents of her clanmates, and found none. Sighing, she stepped out of the den and carefully moved towards the boulders around the camp, carefully searching around the cracks and spaces between the stones to try and find some moss.
Suddenly, a rotten scent wafted through her nostrils, and the ruddy tabby wrinkled her nose as the stench. It smelt like the prey in the fresh kill pile that had been left for a few days or weeks, rotting. She looked to the center of the camp to try and find the source of the smell, and her heart stopped when she saw the orange pelt of her father, carried by Aukwing as he announced him dead.
Pearpaw didn't stare at his body in disbelief, her reaction was immediate. She ran over to him, disregarding her aching paws, as Aukwing announced his plan for burying the tom.
"Dad!!!" Pearpaw screeched, feeling as if she was going to collapse as she neared him. He smelt of sickness, the same sickness she had smelt and disregarded.
Pearpaw's chest heaved as she sobbed, staring at her father distraughtly. She wanted to collapse into his pelt, to try and feel some of escaping warmth. But at the same time, she doubted Aukwing would put him down, at least not until they were out of the camp. Pearpaw glanced over to Minkpaw, who also seemed to be mourning the death of Fireflower. She felt grateful in that.
Pearpaw began to follow Aukwing, continuing to snivel as she kept her gaze fixed on her father's body.
мαrι ✿, moss
He rapidly blinked to regain attention as he noticed Honeyheart walk into the camp, and at first, Dawntail's weariness melted away and quickly turned into joy. He looked at the kit that hung from the queen's jaws, a confused glint in his eyes. The kit swung loosely in Honeyheart's grasp, too loosely, it was as if it couldn't hold itself up properly. Then he saw the defeated look on Honeyheart, alien on the usually joyful queen, and it finally hit Dawntail that she had lost her kit.
Dawntail watched as she flopped over in the middle of the camp, burying her face into into her tiny daughter, as if prodding her to wake up. Appletree wasn't far behind his mate, quickly placing his surviving children into the nursery before returning to his mate's side, comforting her as she mourned her daughter. Dawntail felt the urge to go to the mourning pair, to try and comfort them but he refrained, staying still in his spot. He wasn't necessarily close to them and would give them their space, let them mourn without the pressures of their clanmates looming over them.
Then Aukwing's voice rang out among the camp and Dawntail stood up, alarmed as the tom pronounced another one of their clanmates dead. This time it was Fireflower, and Dawntail felt an ache when he realized he would no longer see the ginger tom.
Finally, Stormstar returned to the camp, and Dawntail looked at him with worried and saddened eyes, the tom still in disbelief at the amount of death that had happened in such a short span of time.
"One of Honeyheart's kits didn't make it... and Fireflower has died." The tom mewed, his voice soft as to not disturb his clanmates.
Airabelle
Pearpaw trudged into camp after Dawntail, tired and weary after the gathering. Her paw pads ached, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when she finally stepped into the camp. Getting to and back from the gathering had been the longest she had ever had to walk, and she was certainly feeling it.
Pearpaw beelined to her den, not waiting for Longstorm. She was sure her mentor would have a few words for her regarding their training session, but Pearpaw felt as if she would fall asleep standing if her spotted mentor decided to go into detail about tomorrow's training regimen.
She headed to the nursery, eager to snuggle up in her nest, hopefully with her father if he was feeling better. It took her a few moments to realize that she would no longer be sleeping in the nursery. She was an apprentice now, and her place was no longer in the nursery.
She turned around, leaving the small space behind her before making her way towards the apprentice den. Stepping into the cave-like structure, Pearpaw felt amazed at how spacious it felt, at least compared to the nursery, which had been growing smaller and smaller to the growing molly.
She looked around, trying to spot an empty nest that she could rest in. She sniffed around, trying to find one clear of the scents of her clanmates, and found none. Sighing, she stepped out of the den and carefully moved towards the boulders around the camp, carefully searching around the cracks and spaces between the stones to try and find some moss.
Suddenly, a rotten scent wafted through her nostrils, and the ruddy tabby wrinkled her nose as the stench. It smelt like the prey in the fresh kill pile that had been left for a few days or weeks, rotting. She looked to the center of the camp to try and find the source of the smell, and her heart stopped when she saw the orange pelt of her father, carried by Aukwing as he announced him dead.
Pearpaw didn't stare at his body in disbelief, her reaction was immediate. She ran over to him, disregarding her aching paws, as Aukwing announced his plan for burying the tom.
"Dad!!!" Pearpaw screeched, feeling as if she was going to collapse as she neared him. He smelt of sickness, the same sickness she had smelt and disregarded.
Pearpaw's chest heaved as she sobbed, staring at her father distraughtly. She wanted to collapse into his pelt, to try and feel some of escaping warmth. But at the same time, she doubted Aukwing would put him down, at least not until they were out of the camp. Pearpaw glanced over to Minkpaw, who also seemed to be mourning the death of Fireflower. She felt grateful in that.
Pearpaw began to follow Aukwing, continuing to snivel as she kept her gaze fixed on her father's body.
мαrι ✿, moss
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