[iliri]

Weepingwind
short-furred, black ghost tabby with dark green eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | riverclan warrior | 31 moons

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No reply. Well, Weepingwind wasn’t really bothered by it—albeit it stung a little. Smolderpaw was struggling with the news of Fadingsun being gone as it is, so she understood his reluctance to reply to her offer. Still, there was a small part of her that had hoped he would at least acknowledge her. She'd offered a way out of the suffocating tension, a chance for him to fight off the stress through sparring or even just talking. But it seemed that wasn't what he needed right now. She couldn't blame him. Weepingwind shook off the slight sting and redirected her focus back to the meeting. Her dark green eyes flickered with interest as Stormstar spoke, her usual rebellious nature subdued as she took in the gravity of the leader’s words. Outsiders joining RiverClan was always a bit of a delicate subject, especially given the clan’s proud, self-reliant culture. The mention of Bravekit and Fireglow caught her attention, and she glanced at the two newcomers. Her mind churned as she weighed what this might mean for the clan. Bravekit was young, and kits often found their place easily. But Fireglow… being a new warrior from outside meant they'd have to prove themselves. Vixenflame would see to that, but Weepingwind made a mental note to keep an eye on the situation. Outsiders brought change, and change was something RiverClan didn’t always take well.

Then came the name that made her ears twitch—Strongstorm, now Weakkit. The tension in the air thickened as Stormstar recounted his exile. Weepingwind had never trusted the tom. Strongstorm had always been a storm waiting to break, but to hear that he’d outright disrespected the clan and its kits… It was no surprise that Stormstar had exiled him. But Weepingwind’s dark fur prickled at the mention of threats against apprentices. A low growl threatened to rumble in her throat, but she kept herself composed. Threatening RiverClan’s future—the kits and apprentices—was a line that no cat should ever cross. Weakkit would get what was coming to him if he dared show his face again. She’d gladly rip him a new one if he wanted it so bad. As Stormstar moved on to the deaths of Crowglow, Mudsmoke, and the disappearance of Jayfrost, Weepingwind’s heart sank. The loss of warriors—especially seasoned ones like Jayfrost and Mudsmoke—was a heavy blow to the clan. She shifted her paws, feeling the familiar weight of grief settle over her shoulders. She hadn’t been particularly close to either warrior, but they were still her clan-mates. Jayfrost’s fate was even more unsettling. Swept downstream and no trace left behind? It sent a shiver through her. She could handle most enemies with her claws, but nature itself? The unpredictability of it all made her uneasy.

But it wasn’t just the news that made her uncomfortable—it was the clan’s reaction. Or rather, the lack of it. Weepingwind’s eyes narrowed as she glanced around at her clan-mates. There was no uproar, no cries of sorrow or anger. It was like the grief had frozen them, numbing them to the point of indifference. Normally, losses like this would stir something fierce within RiverClan—yowls of mourning, oaths of revenge, something. But now? Stilled silence. The tension in Stormstar’s voice was clear as she continued. The leader was clearly trying to keep it together, but Weepingwind could tell she was frustrated by the clan’s lack of reaction. It wasn’t like RiverClan to be so subdued, and she knew it. Weepingwind could almost feel the leader’s urge to lash out, to break the silence herself if no one else would. Weepingwind’s tail flicked as she mulled over the news about the otters. Otters in the rivers posed a real threat, not just to their fish but to their lives. She hadn’t expected to lose clan-mates to creatures like that, but now the reality of it was settling in. Stormstar’s warning was serious, and Weepingwind understood the gravity of it. She wasn’t one to shy away from danger, but she’d be lying if she said the idea of facing off against otters didn’t make her wary. They were unpredictable, vicious in their own way.

The announcement of the vigil made Weepingwind’s heart heavy. Crowglow, Mudsmoke, and Jayfrost—warriors whose names would now be carried by the wind, their spirits watching over the clan. She’d try to attend, of course. It was the least she could do to honor them. But as she glanced at her clan-mates again, she couldn’t help but feel unsettled by how quiet they all were. The otters might have taken more than just the lives of warriors—they might have shaken the very foundation of RiverClan’s already lost spirit. As Stormstar rebuked Shellpaw and brought the meeting to a close, Weepingwind let out a slow breath. There was a lot to process. Outsiders, exiles, otters, and death. The weight of it all was pressing down on the clan, and it was only a matter of time before something broke. She hoped it wouldn’t be Stormstar. RiverClan needed her strength, now more than ever. Weepingwind rose to her paws, casting one last glance toward Smolderpaw. He was still dealing with his own grief, just as they all were. If he still wanted to go with her offer, he could, but she wasn’t going to force it on him. She wasn’t that kind of cat, in anyway.

@Omari ( no reason to reply if you don't wanna! )