[ti]Open[/ti]It's Raining, It's Pouring

[LupTacco]

Shrikeheart paced, biting his tongue as he held back obscenities. He was many things right now- grieving, enraged, ready to cry and scream, ready to lay down and take a decade long nap. His claws dug into the ever-green grass, tearing up small tufts in his wake. This isn't right, he kept repeating to himself. Yes, a medicine cat had broken her oath, yes, he understood that it wasn't proper for her to go unpunished, yes, he knew he didn't have any right to challenge what fate decided. But for once in his life, he had half a mind to show whatever fate was his claws, silly as it sounded. "It's not fair, they don't... she- none of them deserve this!" he whined at his paws, his ears flat against his head. He would've stayed like that for hours, probably, maybe even all day, seeing the flood happen in the back of his mind, until he realized there was a shift in the shimmering grass around him. So, it was already happening. New warriors for StarClan. What gave him such joy in life- to greet new warriors and apprentices- felt like a burden now among the stars. Even so, it was better if they met a friendly face first. He turned around, waiting for whoever the newly deceased would be. Nobody too young, I hope, nobody without a warrior name.

[mewmehh]

The star-dappled grasses of indigo made the ruddy she-cat chock back a gasp as small paws skidded into a startled halt. Had she been running? Thrashing maybe? Whatever it was, she hardly remembered, but Currantpaw for one knew something was wrong. She wasn't tired. She wasn't anxious. Well, less anxious. A lingering hum of paranoia tickled the back of her head, but it was no where near the loud buzzing it had been before. No, she felt soothed, relaxed like a kit alongside her mother's belly. But then, where was her mother? Where was she?

Currantpaw jumped with a fright as she took notice of Shrikeheart, though her crimson tortoiseshell pelt flattened a lot more quickly than usual. "W-wh-where am I?" she managed to mumble out in a coarse voice, her lack of sociability seemingly remaining uncured by the mystical atmosphere. With her coppery gaze flicking back and forth rapidly, it took the apprentice getting dizzy to realize that star-specks flecking her pelt along with her companion's. With a horrified look, she yelped with a gravelly, yet sharp squeak, "Wait! Am I dead?!"

[Mama]

Spending almost two moons already in the starry land, Hyacinthkit had pretty much got every cat memorised. On his daily walk/drag, he liked to stop and make visits to some sadder cats, ones who longed out, to cheer them up a bit. He didn't know anything else he could do for them. Besides, many told him stories of the clans, Ivyclan with their smoked queen leader, Mistclan with a chocolate, now queen, guiding them along and Mothclan.... Who he was pretty sure he was from. That's where his siblings were, right? Mothstar had just died recently, Hyacinthkit spotted the tom every now and then but a big leader may have scared him a teany tiny bit. 


When the news of some sort of prophacy spreading around, a new word, he liked to poke his head to figure out what it was. A tired feline named Jasperfrost told him that it would beacon to new arrivals, so, like the good "welcome to Starclan!" Greeter he was, he decided to wait along with a few others.

Making his way to a sudden burst of a new scent, his limp legs and tail dragging behind him, he saw a fusterated Shrikeheart. Why was his face like that? Was he mad that they were getting more friends? He didn't quite understand yet that it wasn't a fair death for many of these felines.

Turning his head to the new cat, he put on his best smile as his smoky pelt puffed into it's normal cottonball appearance, puffing out his chest a bit. "Hi! Welcome to Starclan!" The kitten purred with a pure grin. 

[LupTacco]

Shrikeheart closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh before pulling together a soft smile for the dead she-cat. "Afraid so, love. No more pain, now, chin up," he spoke in as reassuring a voice as he could muster, "there's no bad weather here." It was a hard facade to maintain, but he had to, didn't he? It was better to try to make it seem okay than to let anyone wallow in it. Some cats were okay with it, some cats had lived a full life and were ready to join the stars. And yet, the first cat to arrive since the flood began was an apprentice. This truly wasn't how it should have been.

Thankfully, a chipper little voice came from nearby. "Ah, uh, Hyacinthkit, right?" Another young cat in StarClan, though to some degree it was a little less tragic; the tom kit never had a life to lose in the first place, and it was astounding he was strong enough to even appear here. Perhaps that was what StarClan needed, though- more happy faces. "You're Currantpaw, right? Hyacinthkit is from MothClan, but he's been learning the hunting grounds well. If you'd like, he could probably show you around?" Normally, Shrikeheart offered to do this himself for his MistClan kin, but he feared there would be more cats to arrive. He didn't want to miss one.