Moon's clearing(Open)

[gs29513]

Deadmoon Moon. Moon. Her name was Moon lay prone in the grass outside of her den. The spring sun shone weakly through the trees, landing on her fur and highlighting the tufts of fur that dirt and burrs had left sticking up in a mountain range of clumps. She considered grooming it, thoughts slow as though pushing through drifts of snow, but decided against it. There was no point, no one would see her in her self-enforced exile, and it would only get dirty anyway. Besides, even if someone did come to see her, it was probably best that she remain unrecognizable as who she once was. That cat was dead. Moon had made sure of it.

Some vestiges of her remained, appearing unbidden in dreams and occasional memories that crept through the thick bramble walls of the mind, but these cracks were becoming rarer now. Each hole that dared to release a wisp of Deadmoon was found, and then patched, thicker than before. Which is what found Deadmoon here, in her bubble of briar and bleakness. Safe, but not truly alive. She stirred herself occasionally of course. There were times when her gloom was lifted, when the scent of prey so delectable that leaving it would be a crime arrived on the wind, when the brook twinkled so temptingly. But these moments were rare.

Her vitality was lost even as spring came anew, buds bursting and the first flowers coming into bloom. These signs of new life did nothing to provoke an awakening of life within the shecat. She was still young, twenty-five moons or so, but looked a figure thrice that. Decrepit, decaying, dead. Perhaps she should have chosen to retain the first half of her name, the one her mother had given her at birth. That might have been more fitting than the hopeful sound of her current name, something bright and full that hung, untouchable and pristine in the sky. But changing would require the admittance that Deadmoon still lay beyond the wall, ready to creep in with her selfish ways and destroy everything Moon had worked so hard at.

She was over it. She was fine. She was independent and unjudged, just as she had always wanted to be. It didn't matter that her den leaked every time it rained, soaking her to the bone. It didn't matter if her pelt was matted and dirty and dull. It didn't matter if her skin hung loosely on her frame, once strong build nothing but pitiful. It didn't matter. It didn't. She was going to do something with the freedom, of course she was. Just not yet. She had earned the right to relax, to enjoy her perfect independence, without need of any other cat to protect her, to help her, to give her the affection that she had once so desperately craved. But she didn't anymore. She didn't.

Her days often followed this pattern. Awake, or perhaps simply decide that she had tried to sleep for long enough and would not be resting that night. Exit the den, and flop down in the almost certainly dewy grass. Stare at the stars. Stare at the sun. Watch birds and squirrels wander into her clearing, and then back out again. Sometimes she tried to hunt them, but most of the times the attempts were halfhearted and clumsy. She had never learned woodland hunting after leaving, and in her weakened state was in no shape to adequately run down any rabbits, or anything else for that matter. Watch the sun set. Try to avoid thinking. Maybe get a drink, if she could be bothered to walk the fifteen foxlengths to the stream just outside her camp. Try to sleep in her slowly decaying mess of moss. Repeat. Day. After day. After day.

It was the full moon again. Moon didn't like the full moons. They had been a time of such joy for Deadmoon, but she hated them. They kept her sequestered in her den for days at a time, paws stuffed in her ears as she cowered, desperate to avoid what she knew she would hear. Voices. Faint, brought on the wind from a far away place. Voices that laughed and jeered, voices that tried to wind through her walls and to her heart in order to smash it open and scatter the pieces for the birds. Birds. Birds, winging overhead, twittering as they taunted her. 'Flightless, useless' they seemed to jeer, sending her cowering away as black wings flashed across her vision, harsh screeches tore at her ears no matter where she ran she couldn't escape. She had been able to run once, but now she couldn't and she was trapped and the birds, the birds they were coming for her and she was going to be eaten, eaten by the ones that feed on the carrion, the refuse of the world, for that was what she was now. Worn and tattered, useless from the very start, now finally crawled away from those who had dared to make her something, because being something was hard and she couldn't handle it, Deadmoon couldn't handle it, and so Moon was making sure that she would never be something again. Never. Because if you were nothing then no one would see you and you wouldn't have to worry about anything because you were nothing, with no expectations to fall short of and no way to be mocked because you didn't exist. If a tree falls in a forest and no one hear's it, was it ever there? This tree had moved as deep into the forest as possible, and there was no way that anything, anyone, would hear her when she fell. When she fell, not if she fell, because she would fall. All it would take would be a flood, a falling tree, a predator, maybe even her own nothingness eventually making her something fit only for the worms and weevils of the underground.

She should......she should get up. Get a drink, shore up her tilting den, hunt, clean her pelt, do anything but lay here and ruin the otherwise beautiful clearing with her filth. But Moon was selfish, so she did none of these things. She simply lay there, unseen, unheard.

[stardust.]

A depressed loner without his mate, and who had been exiled because he was a traitor, sat near a clearing. But there was another cat there. One who seemed.... different... Oh, hang on? He thought, I have seen this cat before, He realized. "Hello, do I know you?" He asked, "You seem familiar, my name is Stormpe- Storm" He was not called Stormpelt anymore, just Storm...
@gs29513

[Shade.]

@gs29513

Rookscreech was, admittedly, a little perturbed by her predicament. She'd dragged behind on a patrol that ended up achieving nothing and, as punishment, was exiled for a week. Her passive self would have most likely just spent yer time lounging around and waiting to cone back. However, the lack of cats, the lack of responsibility, as nice as it sounded, really meant she had nothing else to do but look on into the void of her own thoughts. And it looked back. It was endless. Every single thought could be analysed, and then that analysis could be analysed and so on. She wondered if this was because she was intelligent. Maybe it didn't happen to others.

Either way, so far, Rookscreech had spent her warrior life moping about, doing the bare minimum and just existing. Static. All that ambition, that desire to be the best, had slowly drained away. She'd cone to terms with the crippling realisation that "ignorance is bliss" was the truest statement out there and it was too late for her. Too too late. She knew she couldn't achieve what would make her happy and she knew the pount of life was happiness so there was no point to her existence.

Her sudden temporary exile had shaken up the status quo a bit. Other than giving her more time to delve into severe depression and remorse, it also brought up the question of "What now?". If she wanted to play it sade, she'd wait it out, return, and then continue her static existence. I'd she were to risk it a bit more, she could stay here forever until she was insane enough not to care. But...it felt like there was another answer, just out if reach.

As she was wondering, making sure not to go too far from the clans, she stumbled on a vaguely familiar scent. She felt something suffocate her, place itself in her lungs and refuse to leave. It was oh so familiar, that feeling. She couldn't help but make her way over, her subconscious slowly realising something her surface thoughts didn't. The feeling culminated with a sort of emotional gut punch when she came upon the cat shed scented.

"D-De-I-Uh." she choked out, trying to say something.

[azu-azulu]

(could i jump in?)

[gs29513]

(Deadmoon is maybe 50% nutso, so don't expect a consistent or rational response to anything from her)
The illusion had been shattered, the mirror cracked, the surface of the water ajar with ripples that cut through everything, bringing the world around Moon into sharp, sharp clarity that burned her eyes with the brightness and movement and BRILLIANCE of it all. For an instant she was alive, getting to her feet and shaking out her pelt before becoming aware of how she must look, and casting her gaze down towards her paws, which was no better a view. Finally, she gathered the courage to look at the other, swaying slightly as she attempted to speak. Her voice was rusty from disuse and her mind was sluggish, ponderous and slow. But she was trying, truly trying at something for the first time in several moons.

I.....do not think. So. No, I don't know you. Probably. It was, in fact, completely possible that she had at least seen this cat before, but in her brief moment of peering through the wall she had seen nothing of value and retreated instantly. After an awkward pause of swimming through the honey of her brain in an attempt to find something to say, she realized that her name would be a place to start. Moon. My name is Moon.

Further deliberation. Attempts to recall protocol for when confronted by a possibly(he didn't look aggressive but he MIGHT be) dangerous intruder into her territory. This was her territory, she thought so anyway. Attack, her brain supplied, and, well, who was she to question her deepest intuition? With what must be described as a strangled sort of yowl the molly lunged forward, front paws swinging as she tried to batter the intruder about the face. Her haste left her unbalanced with her claws still sheathed however, and her unsteady legs gave her only a few seconds of time on her hind legs before she was forced back down onto all four paws. She was vaguely aware of another presence, lurking towards the edge of her vision, but that could wait. For now, this intruder must be dealt with. @Shade. @~StinkyStinky

[Shade.]

@gs29513
@~StinkyStinky

When Deadmoon spoke Rookscreech finally realised that there was another cat there as well. Her friend's voice was hoarse but recognisable. Up until she said her name and Rookscreech felt her stomach turn. Oh no no no no. Had she accidentally mistaken a stranger for Deadmoon? That would be so awkward! The awkwardness flooded her vision and she felt her paws want to run away. But her mind told her that this both looked and sounded like Deadmoon. And wouldn't moon be a convenient name if her friend decided to be a rogue.

Suddenly, she saw Moon attack the other cat and her legs froze. Would Deadmoon do that? She looked on bluntly. She...she shouldn't get involved. Yeah. Don't get involved. In anything. That was Rookscreech's main philosophy. Stay away from others. She wished she could say something. Instead, she just took a step back.

[stardust.]

Storm stayed awake, he wanted to continue talking to these two cats, "I was formerly part of RiverClan, a warrior named Stormpelt. But I got exiled for being a traitor. My mate.. who I haven't seen a lot recently" He paused, he missed Stem, it was too hard without her, "Came with me, we talked to an outsider. Who was her sister. But we got caught by two other warriors" He explained, "Kestrelstar punished us, I was confined to camp" He explained, "But not even a quarter-moon afterwards, I was exiled" He mewed, "Me and Stem had kits, but well... They are living with a cat named Flame" He explained, Little, Dew. I hope you are alright. He thought

And Stem is out there somewhere... @gs29513 @Shade.

[gs29513]

The presence was calling to her. Pulling at some hidden knot deep within her, threatening, promising, aching to loosen it, to open the bag, to release a torrent of something that Moon wanted never to see the light of day. Swinging her head as she rebalanced herself, catching a glimpse of them in the edge of her vision, only worsened the feeling. She was in a deep hole, and water was slowly trickling over the edge. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. DripDrop. DripDrop. DripDrop. DripDropDripDropDripdropdripdropdripdropdripdropdr ip..... no. NO! Her paws scrabbled in the mud as she tried to escape, frantically flailing in her mind as the water rose, over her paws, over her knees, up to her belly fur. It swirled and eddied through her fur, faces, voices, scents, sounds, rising from it like steam. She turned her attention to them, frantically trying to dispel the onrushing tide of things that were so familiar, and at the same time so foreign. A face, smiling wryly. The sound of her old name, shouted from on high as cheers filled the air. The soft fur of one she would consider a father. Bad things too. Angry paws, shoving her aside. Accusations, and the terror of knowing Breezefeather, deputy, father was dead. Her friend, pinned and bleeding at the paws of her brother who she had just begun to understand.

And then it was gone.

Water drained away, solid ground restored. She opened her eyes. She was.....panting. There was a cat in...front of her. Speaking. The presence had been driven from her mind by all that it had released from within her, and her anger at the obtrusive memories was directed only at the now hateful being before her. When she spoke her tone was cold, slivers of ice infused in every syllable. I do not know you. I do not know of your....group. She did, she did, she remembered it clearly. It was of little importance in her personal history, but they had been good allies. Smelly, but kind enough. But she didn't think about them now, not any of the cats who had once surrounded her, their scents so intertwined that none was truly unique. You are not welcome here. Leave.

The presence, in the corner of her eye. It moved. Recoiling from her. As it should. She was naught but a shadow of a cat, reduced to the lowest ebb. And yet the action cut through her, like the sharpest of claws. She flinched. Something about it, like so many of her memories, was so painful and comforting at the same time. But she could WORRY ABOUT IT LATER. Her voice took on a more desperate tone. Her muscles were already becoming exhausted with the effort of standing for so long, and she returned to sitting on her hindquarters. Leave. Please. Or....or I'll attack! I will! Just please, leave. I....I don't want to hurt you but you can't stay here. It's not safe. I'm not safe. I'll only be safe if I'm alone. Better to suffocate in loneliness than know the full sting of loved ones lost again. She had managed once. But it must never happen again. If she wasn't there, they were both safer. And even if something were to happen, she wouldn't know. She had to be alone.
@Shade. @~StinkyStinky
(I don't even know what this is anymore lol)

[Shade.]

@gs29513
@StarWatcher

Rookscreech was fighting the urge to leave. This wasn't her problem! This wasn't her business! This...this wasn't her friend. Probably never was. Probably never cared. Deadmoon would much rather be...this, that to stay with her. She'd left and now she seemed upset and broken and...even after seeing this would happen, it didn't matter that she'd left Rookscreech. As usual. She meant nothing to those around her.

Her eyes were threatening to tear up. She held ot in. Don't she'd tears for those that wouldn't care. She considered saying...saying how she felt. Trying to provoke a reaction. But if she succeeded...that would make her a guilt-tripping manipulator. Once again, Rookscreech was thinking only about herself. Even in the face of others suffering. She wanted to be better, she wanted to make Moon feel better! But...she couldn't now, could she? She couldn't because she meant nothing to no one. She could never help anyone but herself.

She could hear the frantic voice of the she-cat. Rookscreech's head drooped and she sighed.
"I'm assuming that would not only be directed at him, but me as well. I'm sorry." she mewed, her voice a sad chuckle.

[stardust.]

Storm listened to Moon's and Rookscreech's words. But when Moon told him to leave, he felt disappointed, "Come join WindClan with me, I always wanted to rejoin a clan!" He meowed
@Shade. @gs29513