#moon 7

[the-stars-and-the-tide]

Moon 7 pt 2 << Beginning | < Previous | Next >

"Yeah, we can invite this loner there aren't too many cats yet" - I said stupidly, clicking proceed 9 new cats in one moon holy moly 😭

[hauntedclangen]

above you

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[roar-from-the-rumble]

MOON 7, PART 2

TRIGGER WARNING: DEPICTIONS OF BLOOD & DEATH

PART 1 | NEXT MOON (WIP) | FIRST MOON

[her-new-landclan]

[astray-clangen]

[ Moon 7 ] [ Cold Rains ] [ Part 3/3 ] ⊲ [ First ] | [ Previous ] | [ Next ] ⊳

[ Freckle and Pigeon chat about the nature of ghosts and the afterlife... Pigeon doesn't seem too keen or comforted on the idea, but he believes Freckle knows what she's talking about. ]

[feliclangenfooli]

Moon 7-8: had originally planned for Spottedbird and Sparrowslip to be smoking, but I went the less funny route for drawing sake

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[our-clangen]

Moon 7.8

Warblerstalk: She/Her 27m (calico and white) Goldpaw: He/Him 8m (brown tabby)

Better read on ComicFury!

[nimbusclan]

Moon 7

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“All that’s left to do is to find some more cobwebs for you, bring you water-soaked moss, catch us both something to eat…” Moonstar ticks each item off on her claws, recounting the list in her head for the sixth time since waking. She’s been going over it since the sun rose, making sure she won’t forget anything her brother may need while she’s out. “Are you feeling okay?” She asks, reaching a paw towards his cobweb-covered flank. “Does it hurt at a–”

Fogfreckle’s tail easily flicks up between them, blocking her paw. She leaves it hanging awkwardly in the air between them for a heartbeat, confused, unable to tell if he had done that on purpose or not. “Really getting into that leader mindset, huh?” Her brother mews, and though there’s a slight smile to his mouth, his words fall flat as they reach her ears.

On purpose, then.

Moonstar blinks at him, trying to remember where her thoughts had gone before they’d been so succinctly cut off. “I’ve got to stay on top of things with my deputy out of commission, yeah?” She mews lightly. Her neck fur prickles with unease as the smile drops fully from Fogfreckle’s face.

“Yeah.” His voice is painfully blank. He turns his muzzle away from her, as if the boulders crowding in around them are somehow more interesting to look at. “S’pose so.”

Moonstar fidgets from paw to paw, unsure of the sudden tension stifling the two cats in the crammed space. She runs through her mental list yet again, turning each item over in her head like smooth pebbles to see if any of the contents could have pricked at her brother in a way she hadn’t considered. Try as she might, she can’t figure out how the term ‘water-soaked moss’ would have been able to turn his mood sour.

“You’re being really brave about this,” Moonstar starts, switching tactics. Her brother is still staring blankly into the darkness, turned away from her. “Sticking it out through the pain like this. I know it must hurt.”

She reaches out a paw once again, intending to rest it against his flick, but his ears flick backwards and he pushes himself out of reach. Her paw drops, the confusion at his attitude starting to morph into a hurt that yanks at her like brambles.

“I’m not a kit anymore, Moonstar.”

“...Yeah, I know,” Moonstar mews slowly, feeling like she’s padding on thorns. “You’re– you’re my deputy! You’re–

“Could you just leave me alone?” Fogfreckle curls into a tight ball, wrapping his tail over his nose. His shoulders are sharp in the dim light that issues from the crawlspace entrance, the fur along the back of his neck spiky and agitated. Moonstar frowns at the shape of him in the gloom.

If he doesn’t want her emotional support, fine. She swallows down the ball of hurt that is lodged in her throat like a bird bone and lets it out with a rough sigh. Screw her for trying to be helpful. He can rot, for all she cares, as long as he stays here and stays out of trouble.

She stalks towards the entrance of their makeshift den, shoulders brushing the boulder above her. “I’ll go get your moss.”

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