StarClan Camp

[BEAR.]

Honestly, there wasn't much rhyme or reason to his antics at this point. Brokenstar was just doing things because he could. ThunderClan had its paws full, and he wasn't too concerned with harassing Bumblestar for the time being. RiverClan sucked and he contemplated sending another flood their way, but decided to see what the Larkling would do before she dealt with another catastrophe. WindClan had ... other problems.

So when he noticed ShadowClan clearing looking a little stale, he decided to spice things up a bit. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time a hail storm ruined Dawnstar's day.

[bubble[error].]

*Drippingpelt exists*

(Open)

[19796]

(OPEN FOR RESPOND) VultureFang Got up and realized he was NOT In Windclan's Warrior Den "WHERE AM I!?" he shouted out in the distance

[BEAR.]

It was remarkable how millions of stars could be so invisible, but Brokenstar supposed it was only fitting a clearing meant for spirits was.. Dead.

He didn't have the mental energy to deal with it. The Covenant he called together was enough of a headache half the time, and with the border issue... It merely complicated things further. So for now, he took his usual perch on a rock overlooking the glade, paws and tail tucked close.

[ open ]

[Saki]

Yellow
|tom|283 moons|died at 3 days|

Yellow frowned, he didn't enjoy what he was thinking about, didn't like it, but nonetheless he was thinking. He thought about life, the life he never had. His chance at life, his chance at life disappearing from his two ginger paws. His two, non-growing, forever to be, little, ginger, paws. He knew he almost had a good life, because he thought of all the possibilities. He could have become an apprentice, he heard about those possibly some moons ago. He could have become a medicine cat, a deputy, or even a leader of a clan. But he missed his chance. Everyone else got a chance, but all he got was a few days. He remembered his mother, one memory. He was sitting in the nursery, surrounded by kits and queens and the scent of milk. He felt comfortable around the squealing and squeaking of the play cats. So young, so little, so fragile, he was, he still was. He looked at his mother smiling at him with two yellow eyes. Then he stopped breathing. Didn't know how or why, he just couldn't inhale. His only memory was looking at his mother, the other kittens, so, so long ago. He counted, every single day since then. He thought that being there forever wouldn't be so bad but he lost hope after 50 or so moons. Every day he made a mark on one stone, a single stone. He needed boulders and boulders to count every day he spent on the wretched place. No family, no friends to think about, his mother was somewhere, father unknown, only child, never spoke anymore. Couldn't speak, well, barely speak.

Yellow never put time aside to learn to talk about many words. It's not like he had to anyway. He was in paradise, only one memory, sure, he wanted to speak sometimes, but why? What would talking give him anyway? Besides, cats would just rant on and on about the life they missed so much. How about you talk about the life you never had? HUH? Yeah sure, boo hoo you can't see your mama anymore? She'll join us soon! Yellow hated cats who just went on and on about their life. At their memories, he had one memory. His mother, didn't even get to experience the outside of the nursery before he died. Nothing. Yellow looked around, so lonely, a lonely place.

He looked at the rock he had been counting days on, a slash for each time the sun went down. Yellow hadn't counted the moons in a long time, perhaps he should count them again? He paused, thinking for a moment as he paws a claw on each mark, then he realized.

His eyes grew dull.

283 moons. 8607 days.

He didn't know what to feel, how to feel. He never experienced anything and never would, he wasn't new here, he probably, if he cared or looking would have seen more than 100 leaders pass away. If he cared he would have seen it all. The leader of his time, he didn't know. He knew of the first leaders, Burrowstar, Badgerstar, Harestar and Coyotestar. He didn't know, and probably never would know. He shrugged off the thought. Maybe he could make a friend, maybe he just had to find someone like him. Someone without a chance. Someone who felt like him, the same pain, the same anger of not even having a chance. Of seeing the light of day and watching it fade away. He looked to his paws, he never even got a chance to look at his reflection. Then he thought, maybe, maybe after all this time I need to stop dwelling on the past, I mean there are plenty of things I can do here! He stop and stared, stared at his paws. He wanted something, after 283 moons of being in Starclan, he wanted to do something here. He didn't want to leave, not then and there, he wasn't thinking about that. And for the first time in 283 moons he wanted something, something small, something tiny. But he wanted to achieve it. He wanted to look at his reflection, to see his face.

He ran and ran and ran, searching for a lake or river. He was determined, he knew all he wanted was to leave but, there was some sort of motivation rising up inside him. He wanted to see himself, to see himself, to see himself! he finally made it to the lake and looked down at the crystal clear water, looking almost white he looked in the water. Standing in it Yellow looked at himself. His coat was... gorgeous. He had long, fluffy fur with ginger stripes. His underbelly seemed to be a light yellow and his eyes a golden bronze. Like his mother's eyes. Hazel-like green speckles with yellow lemon base along with two, rusty bronze circles in his irises. He looked exactly like his mother, and he smiled.

OPEN

[Saki]

Originally Posted by Red_Fang

(OPEN FOR RESPOND) VultureFang Got up and realized he was NOT In Windclan's Warrior Den "WHERE AM I!?" he shouted out in the distance

Yellow (Slugkit)
If you dare dream, you might find yourself so deep in slumber you can't ever wake up
|tom|283 moons|died at 3 days|unhappy|fidgety|ginger tabby|

Yellow sighed at the sight of the screeching tom with a roll of his eyes. New cats, you'd think warriors wouldn't be so... what's the word... annoying, no, terrified when they woke up in Starclan. When he woke up he didn't even care, just went about his day. I suppose it's like he could care, he was just a kit, he died, he didn't have any relations, he had been alive 3 days so he didn't know what death was. I guess being somewhere and waking up in paradise has got to be a little odd.

Yellow walked up to the tom, where he was.

' ' Starclan. ' ' He meowed.

It was a word he would always remember to say, a word he couldn't get out of his head ever. He blinked slowly, finding himself feeling pity for the warrior. A little voice in his head whispered, he is probably going to miss his family, but the angry voice. The voice that screamed, made him feel pain, controlled him, yelled back that atleast he knew his family, his friends, had a chance. Unlike us, me, you, good voice? Didn't even get to leave the nursery. He should be more grateful, and less annoying. But the pity took over, his eyes showed empathy, his heart shone with love, and the soft part took over him. He sat next to the tom and leaned against the warrior comfortingly.

' ' Name? ' ' He mewed, again he didn't know many words but he knew the basics, he how to say a few things.

He knew how to say the clans, how to ask for others names and to say his own. Yellow knew how to say "okay", "food", "hungry", and things like that. But his head didn't have an inner monologue constantly going on, he thought in short 1 word sentences and pictures. Sometimes he wished he could speak, times like now when he wanted to say something so bad but all the noise came out to be a squeak. He should learn, he thought, after 283 moons of this hell he should learn to speak. He wanted something again. He wanted to learn to talk.

[19796]

Originally Posted by .:!MerryVix!:.

[FONT="Georgia"][CENTER]

Yellow (Slugkit)
If you dare dream, you might find yourself so deep in slumber you can't ever wake up
|tom|283 moons|died at 3 days|unhappy|fidgety|ginger tabby|

Yellow sighed at the sight of the screeching tom with a roll of his eyes. New cats, you'd think warriors wouldn't be so... what's the word... annoying, no, terrified when they woke up in Starclan. When he woke up he didn't even care, just went about his day. I suppose it's like he could care, he was just a kit, he died, he didn't have any relations, he had been alive 3 days so he didn't know what death was. I guess being somewhere and waking up in paradise has got to be a little odd.

Yellow walked up to the tom, where he was.

' ' Starclan. ' ' He meowed.

"Oh.." he sighed and sat down "I forgot i had GreenCough"

[taillow]

Roanpaw
Well this was boring. There was nothing to really entertain an almost-warrior as Roanpaw sat on a nearby rock. The bug-eyed apprentice was staring at seemingly nothing, brown dappled coat unkept and ungroomed. A hailstorm had seemingly rained down on his grandmother's Clan, to which he wondered if it was an act of the stars or just nature.

...Deciding to give it a try the little-big lad squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to concentrate. When all that resulted was a forced huff of air, Roanpaw opened his eyes as his shoulders slumped. Hmm. Guess he wasn't strong enough to make hail.

[ open! small roleplay to dip my toes back in look away lillian, replies likely won't be all that lengthy ]

[Katiethewolfchild]

Horsekit smiled as she watched her mother and sisters. Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to live. But she was happy here! She couldn't get hurt or sick and she got to play whenever she wanted with the other dead kits! Yes, her sisters were apprentices and she would never be one but she could just play forever and ever and nobody would ever tell her to sleep! One of the good things of being born dead. There were a lot of good things of being born dead.

Crowkit sighed as she looked down on her littermates and parents. She wondered what it would be like to live. To be alive. She would never know. Why did she have to be stillborn when her siblings got to live? Why didn't she have a chance? Everyone else did but not her. It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair.

Birdsong smiled as he watched his living mate and his three living kits. Three of his kits were apprentices. The other one had been stillborn but she seemed happy. That was all that mattered. As long as his former mate and their kits were happy so was he. {all open}

[taillow]

Cindersky
She/her | Formerly ThunderClan | No purrks

Ironic that a sky full of starry spirits had a camp so empty the faintest whistle of a breeze could be heard. Stepping up onto one of the many rocks that hung on the outskirts of the picturesque clearing, Cindersky allowed her gaze to sweep over the lands. It felt quiet here, and for some reason that made the silver bengal feel restless. Whatever power she had harnessed when directing the elements to the Clans seemed to be gone now, despite her efforts to get it back - even trying to pull others into dreams was a struggle. It was leaving her feeling exhausted, which combined with this need to do... something had her frustrated over everything.

With a sigh the former ThunderClanner settled onto her chosen seat, tucking her paws underneath her. Despite there not being the need to continuously look over her shoulder here like she'd done during her time alive, Cindersky still kept herself alert and ready to spring to her paws at a moments notice. Though her eyes closed, she kept her ears alert and open. It was her attempt to calm the chaos that raged on within her head, to quiet the screams and yowls into submission - and to perhaps figure out a way to not feel so exhausted lately.

She had been well on her way there, opening her eyes once more, when a flash of a familiar pelt caught her gaze. Twisting her neck around Cindersky located the cat it belonged to, and her eyes narrowed slightly. The last time she had seen that cat, she'd been looking at its retreating form out of the ThunderClan camp. Rising to her paws the silver bengal gave a fluid leap and trotted quickly over to her.

"Shiningskies." It was hard to keep the disdain from her voice, though her eyes shown with conflicting emotions. Part of her still hated her former Clanmate (friend?) for having left ThunderClan. Another part of her recalled the ways in which they had stood side by side (along with Sparrowflight) to raise ThunderClan out of the pit it had been in. Her jaw was hard set as she studied the now obviously deda cat. "...When did you die?"

[ @Lillith @BEAR. ]