#violethope

[lucentclan]

"You are haunted by the sounds of gnashing teeth, ripping flesh, and overflowing seas. You are lost and alone, only you can rebuild your sense of belonging. You are the spark that will ignite the flames of change."

[lucentclan]

well! i wasnt expecting this-

I wrote a little snippit for this that I'll put it under the cut, I'm so upset over them you have no idea

despite the war between Lucentclan and Fernclan being over, Newtstar decides that he, Pepperflare, and Violethope will go patrol the borders one last time before the sun goes down. They don't realize the scent of rain or the clouds forming in the distance, as they're crossing the beach, rain begins falling heavily and weighing down their pelts.

"Newtstar!" Pepperflare calls over the now howling wind, anxiety pricking in her paws as the rain brings back unwanted memories of Sablepaw being washed away in a flood four moons ago. "We should really go back to camp! I don't have a good feeling about this."

Newtstars ears flick in acknowledgement, "we need to be sure that Fernclan isn't up to anything. I won't lose anymore cats to those fox-hearts!" He argues back, claws digging into the sand as he thinks of their previous medicine cat, Rippleclaw.

"No sane cat will be out in this weather!" Pepperflare insists, "Especially Fernclan cats! They hate water!"

"I agree with Pepp-" Violethope begins, her meow quickly cut off by a deafening crash and flash of lightning. In the distance, the sound of trees cracking and breaking echo down the mountains.

All three clancats freeze, heads snapping to the horizon where they see a massive wave of water quickly making its way down the hill, rocks, trees, and other natural debris coming along with it. The clancats barely have time to process what was happening before the water reaches them and sweeps them off their paws and into the unforgiving ocean. Their lungs fill with freezing saltwater as they cry out for starclan to save them to no avail.

Newtstar is the first to open his eyes, the yellow a sharp contrast to the darkness around him. Stars now shine in his pelt, and reflect in his eyes as he takes in the vaguely familiar area. He had been here when he lost his first life protecting his clan from a dog the same moon Rippleclaw had been found dead on Fernclans border. It had been nice to see the tom again to be assured that he wouldn't be alone, their starclan guide, and Newtstars own kin, Shardfoam being there to keep him company.

He sits and sighs, watching the water drip from is glimmering pelt and dissappear into the stars beneath his paws. He couldn't help but feel as if he had let his clan down.

Pepperflare and Violethope join him soon, appearing with splashes of salt water and gasping breaths that didn't take any oxygen. The she-cats meet eyes for a moment, confused as they look towards their leader.

They realize the stars at the same time, dismay filling them. Quietly, they step forward to sit beside their leader in quiet mourning.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way," A familiar voice says, a cream tabby tom stepping into sight. Sympathy reflecting in his grey eyes as he looks at the warriors. Beside the medicine cat is a younger spotted gray apprentice, Sablepaw, who is looking at them with the same sympathetic look.

"Rippleclaw! Sablepaw!" Newstar cries, standing. "Whats going on? We can't actually be dead, right? What about my other seven lives?" The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, needing answers. Beside him, Pepperflare tries to speak but just hacks up a mouthful of water. Violethope remains quiet.

Rippleclaw sighs, "Unfortunately there was no way for starclan to bring your body back, it was washed too far out to sea for it to be possible." He steps to the side, the area behind him now streching out into a vast area, stars littering ground. This was starclans hunting grounds. The medicine cat dips his head, tears in his eyes as his friends try to process their deaths, "Welcome to starclan, my friends. Here you can watch over and guide Lucentclan."

Down below the sky, Quailcall sits outside the medicine den, blue eyes watching the entrance of the camp. It's been far too long since the patrol had left, and the elder was starting to get a bad feeling. He looks up at the dark clouds as it stormed and shakes out his pelt before standing and turning to enter the den.

Sparkfire lays in a nest against the far wall, curled up tightly as she sleeps through the infection in her wounds. The she-cat twitches and whimpers in her sleep, shifting slightly. The tom silently makes his way to sit beside the nest, watching the slow rise and fall of Sparkfires back, half expecting it to stop at any moment.

Quailcall looks towards the entrance of the den once more, dread filling his belly. "Starclan help us." He says quietly before curling up close to the deputy and shuts his eyes in an attempt to sleep until the patrol returns.

sorry for the short fic but i wanted to write for this moon soo bad and got carried away.

What will Sparkfire and Quailcall do now?

[lucentclan]

Question for Sparkstar! What if the clan didn't die? :)

"It's better to focus on the future. Lucentclan isn't going to rebuild itself."

[lucentclan]

Moon 9 of Lucentclan!

our first warrior ceremony!! she graduated late because of hurting her leg but was able to complete her training still. Newtstar spent a long time trying to decide a perfect prefix, even asking fellow clanmates for advice before deciding on Violethope. The she-cat honored for her pride and perseverance.

Violethope's heart swells as Newtstar touches his nose to her head, declaring her a full warrior at last. For a while, she had been worried that she would never graduate because of her twisted leg. Her ears twitch as she refrains from grimacing. The thought of her past wound made the aching worse.

After the ceremony, Sparkfire and Newtstar go on a border patrol together, soon coming across a large dog on the border. The two to lead the dog away, but Sparkfire is bitten in the process and has to retreat, leaving Newtstar to lead it away before running back to camp with her.

[myliquidsunsets]

Si dice che, a essere forti, si muore lentamente. Si muore sotto il peso delle lacrime trattenute, delle guerre nella mente, delle mancanze. Ma, ora l'ho capito: si arriva a un punto in cui la forza non è più qualcosa che si cerca di possedere per esibirsi, per dimostrare agli altri di essere all'altezza della vita. No, è qualcosa di più: è la consapevolezza taciuta, nascosta, protetta, di chi ha lottato tanto, ma va avanti a testa alta. E non c'è bisogno di spiegarlo agli altri, perché lo si può leggere negli occhi. La cosa straordinaria è che chi ci ama, quella forza l'ha vista da tempo, ancora prima che noi stessi ci accorgessimo di possederla.