Posts by finchblossom.

    she struggled to recognize the woman who emerged from the nighttime, the woman who moved with hesitation, spoke words of disbelief and heartache. it was hard to recognize the skyclan warrior as someone finchblossom loved when all she could see was her own reflection, ghostly and shattered, staring back at her. molten eyes had cooled, red rimmed despair. the young woman of treetops and flames was now reduced to the same ash that littered finchblossom’s home, and finch wanted to cry at the sight of it. of her.

    ”mothshine,” she breathed, voice edging the steep drop into weepiness. at once, finchblossom was rushing to her, burying her face in the crook of moth’s neck and shoulder, stealing away the comfort of her touch as if nothing had ever happened to them. offering her own touch in return because it was still second nature. and finchblossom released a breath she didn’t know she was holding, sharply inhaling the scent of her lost love along with all of the sorrow the skyclan girl had been burdened with. ”i’m here... i’m here, moth,” she mewed, moving to brush her muzzle against her cheek. they weren’t together anymore, finch knew it, but she could see her sweet mothshine like this and not touch her, not comfort her. she couldn’t, she couldn’t, she couldn’t. ”you look so tired,” the little medic worried, ”mothshine...” and selfishly she longed for moth’s touch as well. a touch that wasn’t hers to take, yet she reached for it anyways.

    blue met bronze. finch didn’t easily read others, wasn’t good at inferring, but there was no denying the hurt that her diorite girl wore like a second pelt. she wanted to help her, she wanted to heal her, take it away, deal with it for her, but she couldn’t. she didn’t know how. she couldn’t fix this with cobwebs, she couldn’t fix this. ”i-i’m sorry, moe, i’m sorry.” i wasn’t here for you, you needed me and i wasn’t here. and it hurt. it hurt more than moth telling her goodbye, hurt more than dying, hurt more than anything. everything. oh, stars, what have you done to her? and how dare you? how dare you? ”i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.” not again. not so easily.


    — "i'll pick!" would be her reply, bright and chirpy, just as vibrant as the young girl from which it originated. finnley had busied herself with whatever she could find lying around the apartment - important looking papers, tv remotes, cords and wires - while barry cooked. while she hadn't left the small apartment in total disarray, most sense of organization had been... changed... to say the least. "i've never had fet-ta-chee-nee before," she mused as she found her way back to the wall with the tv and entertainment center, carefully looking through the various disks and very purposefully deciding on whatever package had the most color to it. something with big, bold text, large splashes of red across the cover. perfect.

    she hurried back to where barry was setting the table. "barry, look!" she demanded, eagerly showing him whatever odd, age-inappropriate title she'd chosen. "this one is my favorite." a lie, perfectly served with a brilliant grin, excitement showing from dimple to dimple.

    the young medic cast a guarded gaze towards the distant forest of skyclan. the midnight air was cool and crisp, kissed with a welcome freshness that washed away the acid of smoke that bathed her home, smoothed over the ruin of flames. the last time she stood here was the height of greenleaf. the only thing that burned hotter than the midday sun was the spark in her love's eyes when they said their goodbyes. it had been moons, but she could still feel the sting of the gray warrior's words.

    finchblossom wasn't sure what brought her here today. didn't know why umber paws carried her down this familiar path. didn't know why she found herself waiting in the crater she carved into the earth, back when she'd always be pacing with excitement to see her copper-eyed beauty, the one who used to beam at the slightest of touches. the memory of mothshine's scent felt tender... raw... a strange mix of warmth and ache that she hadn't allowed herself to feel in weeks. how long had it been? how long had it been since she'd seen mothshine? since they met for the last time?

    as the hickory-brushed girl looked over the inky scene before her, she couldn't help but to wonder if mothshine still thought of her. if the skyclan warrior would even want to see her after all this time. if she wanted to meet, if she wanted to talk, if she wanted to know that finch was okay. finchblossom wondered if her gaze would soften, cool with concern at the sorry sight of the medicine cat like she had when finch hobbled to the border with a broken leg and teary eyes. they were much younger then, weren't they? just apprentices. had mothshine outgrown her? were the two of them meant to leave each other in the past?

    maybe.

    but finchblossom was never good at letting go.


    .Mothshine. !!!!!!

    the walk home was tiring. agonizing. healing wounds still sore. every step was just a reminder of what she’d faced. every sore paw took her back to the day she trailed blood the entire way home. when bluepaw and ravensong and cliffpaw had found her, leaning on the shoulder of a stranger, fading in and out like flickering lights, distant lightening. when gladestar and bluemask found her on the border and held her like a crying kitten. wept over her parting soul, hurricane, monsoon. it reminded her of then.

    bluemask did not walk beside her - though any time her eyes lifted from the ground, she’d always find his icy blues searching for her. she would smile at him — she hadn’t gotten lost. she hadn’t fallen behind. she was here. she was here. when gladestar walked alongside her, she would focus on the way he breathed... how different the smoke-tangled lungs worked, how different he sounded. when life departed from him, it took away something she knew him by. at the end of his days, would she know him at all? she tried not to think about it. ravensong’s pelt reminded her of a star-less night. the complete fading away, the deepest sleep, the one you don’t wake up from. she reminded finch of cold nights in the nursery when finch was fearless, wreckless, daring. nothing could stop her, nothing could break her. how bitter those memories tasted.

    finchblossom almost didn’t recognize camp. dusted with ash, damped by rain. black, dried and burned, wet once again. she tried to ignore the overwhelming melancholy the scene wrought, stripping away any sense of homesickness she might of felt: any elation or relief. it was... tragic.

    eventually her eyes would find tempestwing. as much as finch wanted to rest, she knew there was work to be done. there was no time for leisure now. ”i’ll do what i can,” she offered.


    — “maybe we could ... use leaves..? to grab it?” a small voice would suggest as an even smaller girl moved to join the two. she brushed alongside bluemask as she came to stand beside him, soft eyes doing nothing to mask the exhaustion and disgust she felt. she glanced to the fish he began to roll away, shrinking from blue like he, too, were now a piece of rotten food. ”maybe that’d help.” the smell was nothing she’d ever experienced before. earthy, sour, acrid, dancing clumsily with the faded sting of smoke. awful.

    "i do."

    "then we happily accept you as our new apprentice." may starclan approve of our decision. finchblossom touched her nose to pipitpaw's, allowing their foreheads to meet in a fond embrace. there was some relief knowing that their new apprentice was someone finch already knew well and trusted. still, she couldn't help but to imagine the exhaustion the next few moons would bring. she stepped back to allow the others to congratulate her sibling, including shoreheart whose touch brought a welcome comfort. "of course they will -- they're learning from the best." a joke ...though it was unclear if finchblossom meant shoreheart or herself.

    — "you'll have to teach me that move someday, cop." gentle hum. she pressed her nose to the top of the kitten's head in fond greeting as she moved to settle down near the trio. walked with near normalcy - evidence that the wounds stretched across her neck and chest were not quite as sore today. some light had returned to her eyes, color to her face. it was almost hard to tell that she had nearly died just days prior. almost.

    "you've picked up fishing rather quickly, haven't you?" sapphire blues turned to the stranger now as the medicine cat complimented her. finchblossom had been in riverclan her entire life and still couldn't catch a fish. she admired quick learners. admired the ones who tried hard. she felt like neither of those things -- maybe someday she'd tint green with envy. today, at least, she just seemed tired.

    she woke to the awful thundering of heavy rain against the metal roof, a startling sound that made her heart pound as she tried to make sense of something that didn't make sense. unnatural. odd. uncomfortable. she fled the den, eyes flying to the silver pseudo-heaven above them. twoleg creation.

    she found the figure of her father easily. days like this, he was predictable: staring, marveling like a child. endlessly curious, always observing. she found his other side, pressed into him, followed his eyes as he looked outwardly at the curtain of water. waterfall, reclaim your earth, wash away the evil that tried to consume it. despite the sound it created, finchblossom couldn't help but feel the relief the rain promised. growth. new beginnings.

    tempestwing's voice felt far away, unimportant, as she mused about a life they were revisiting. how odd it seemed to go backwards when the rain begged them to move on. finchblossom would not speak. instead, she decided to let the adults talk about adult things. this was a conversation she was allowed to be a part of, but for now, she favored drowning them out until they were faint hums and breathing in the smell of rain.

    surprise found her once in the woman speaking her name with such tenderness that finch would be led to believe that they'd known each other for years. it would be found twice in the sudden movement of the starry figure as it embraced her, the stranger's fur both cold and warm, alive and dead. soft in the way she imagined clouds to be -- wispy and eluding. a touch that wasn't really there. surprise found her a third time in the arrival of her father who was quick to come between finch and the stranger, taking their physical parting as an invitation to become the wall that kept finchblossom in and roselight out.

    his actions would come only seconds too late. the mystique around the dead woman at their border had already captured finchblossom, and she moved to weave between his legs and catch sight of her once more. "starclan... is losing power?" she echoed though, selfishly, her true questions lied in the identity of roselight. who didn't believe in starclan? what else would they believe in?

    young girl, still stricken with pallor, would come to stand atop a hay bale, only tail-lengths from the barn floor. truth be told, she was dreading this. finchblossom didn't want an apprentice. didn't want the burden of another responsibility. and though she wouldn't admit it, finchblossom got the impression that shoreheart felt the same, but the two young women couldn't reject their fate much longer. given their recent injuries, it was time to work towards guaranteeing riverclan's future. or something.

    deep blues lazed over the cats below. she couldn't help but to wonder what gladestar thought about before ceremonies. did he rehearse what he was going to say? she wished he were here now to stand over her, block her from the reality of her future, shield her from the passage of time, the inevitability of death. she was so tired.

    ceremoniously, she'd give the hay beneath her three muted stomps before calling out to the clan, "riverclan, shoreheart and i have decided that it is time to take on an apprentice." no turning back now. "there was a lot of interest from many good apprentices and kits, but we have decided that the next medicine cat apprentice will be pipitpaw ." she paused to gauge the reaction from the clan. would they find it odd of her to pick her own blood? "pip has always been... selfless and kind... and i know that pipit would do anything for any and all of us. they've never, ever, given up -- even when our family was..." torn apart. broken. shattered. beyond repair. she paused to clear her throat. let the idea fade away. there was no use speaking of it now. "for these reasons, i believe pipitpaw will make a great medicine cat." finchblossom let her eyes rest on pipitpaw, the sight of them bringing about a softness that had not reached her eyes until now.

    finchblossom would carefully climb down from the hay before stiffly walking to her sibling, meeting them eye to eye as she gingerly asked, "pip, do you accept the duties of a medicine cat apprentice? to train in the way of healing to serve your clan?"


    // Shoreheart. melo-crisis AHHH MELO !!!

    thank u everyone who applied !!! there were so many good choices, and u rlly made it difficult for us to pick !!

    she was no stranger to meeting souls of the beyond. she'd visited starclan every half-moon since her apprenticeship, she had celestial visitors come to her in dreams, she could even hear the voices of angels during her brush with death. even so, finchblossom couldn't help but to be taken aback by the star-dotted visitor at the border.

    "h-hello?" tentative call as she approached a being that seemed to teeter on the realm of the real. had it not been for the ache in her wounds, she might've thought she were dreaming. slipped into the land of the dead. but she'd been there before -- this was riverclan, she knew it. "has... something happened?" is something going to happen? "unlike you to visit like this." "you" being starclan. how often did starclan come to earth? let their souls fall so far? this... this seemed important.

    finchblossom hadn't meant to stumble on the starry wanderer before her; she had only been on a stroll to keep her muscles exercised. the border always brought trouble, didn't it?

    finchblossom wasn't excited. not really. with everything that was happening, an apprentice seemed like nothing but a burden. but with rootlegs and streamspirit no longer medicine cats (and both of the girls' recent brushes with death), she and shoreheart knew that it was time to start training the next generation of medics. so finch stood next to the pretty, marred girl as she made her timid announcement to the clan. "what would be worse? no interest or tons of interest?" quiet joke, whispered teasingly to the woman at her side.

    Midnight MC Alpha   pipitpaw   scar.   -r a v e n p a w-

    ++ anyone else interested, can i get u guys to fill out this form :^) , this is just to help pick the best candidate !!


    also alex has posted an ic check if you want to participate in that!! <33

    Saint Bernard| O, MCA IC Interest Check

    — "hope i'm not too old to join in." feather-soft voice from an even softer girl. the young medicine cat joined the group without waiting their permission, settling among the younger cats as unobtrusively as possible. she was still in recovery from her latest injury; cobwebs tightly wrapped her chest and neck. it seemed like she had been healing for moons now from various injuries -- physical or otherwise -- and the faces of the clan were changing. she didn't recognize the young kit who called them to gather. she didn't realize nightfall's kits were already apprentice age. how old was sagekit? while finch was stuck healing, the days were passing her by. scary.

    "i'm finchblossom, but you can call me finch if you'd like. i'm one of the medicine cats." and by far the most useless.

    — "i want to remember him!" quick interjection -- almost desperate in its sharpness. fast denial of a blasphemous accusation, weighed down in guilt and the lack of belief. wanted to change his mind but she hadn't even convinced herself. her haste had changed the feeling of the moment between them, cut through it like a knife, created a separation that she worked quickly to stitch back together with a ginger: "he'd never forgive me... us... if we forgot him." whether or not they really believed it, she doubted either of them would be willing to test it.

    "i just hope he doesn't have to feel scared anymore." it took her a moment to savor the sentiment. she'd never thought about it that way. he was still alive, wasn't he? dead but living. no longer here but not gone entirely. another clan. another life. for so long, cliffpaw had only been dead. killed. gone. but that wasn't the entire truth. it had never been the entire truth. it was weird to think about, and it ached in a whole new way: a way that felt most similar to her ache for mothshine. that longing, that so close but so far. it stole away her exhale, made it hard to breathe in again.

    "we will," she agreed. "me before you, i'm sure." there was an attempt at humor there, buried between the cold reality of it. maybe she should have been happy. maybe even excited. but instead, all she could feel was some overwhelming dread. something strong enough to push her to the edge of fear. "i-i don't know if..." the night air around them was cold. she could feel the wetness of blood matting her fur, the drain of life from her body. "i... i don't want to be next." she could hear their voices as they cried out for her. gladestar's smoke-stained scent. the panic. "i won't get another chance." i didn't deserve this one. i shouldn't be alive right now. shoreheart's distant yelling. the stars above. the tears. semi-permanent sleep.

    she died over and over again in her mind -- some alternate reality where she hadn't woken up. where starclan had taken her soul like they set out to. where she met her mother and brothers and sister and best friend on the other side. where she looked down at bluemask and gladestar and cried. she had died that day even if she were here now. even if she were breathing and moving and talking and smiling. she was dead. she was dead. she was- "i'm sorry. i-i didn't mean to... i didn't..." she couldn't find the words. didn't know what to apologize for. for dying? for living?

    "yes. pretty often." the answer she didn't want. tired eyes found him at once, studied him for signs of hurt. but she knew all too well it was the kind of hurt she couldn't heal. the kind of hurt she'd been feeling for what seemed like a lifetime. he didn't deserve to feel it. didn't need it. he had done nothing wrong, he--

    his name caught her off guard. cliffpaw. studious eyes softened as she continued to look at him. her rock. crumbling. how he tried to hide it, how he tried to keep himself put together, but sometimes he was just as fragile as she was. she could see it now. hear it in the way he formed their dead friend's name, the ever-so-slight way it shook as it fell from his lips. they were just the same. fragile creatures trying to piece themselves back together. broken and broken and broken. "he would hate it out here." the gorge. he was scared of heights. more scared of one of them accidentally falling in. somber, melancholy smile formed on her lips. "he... he was so scared of everything." he must've been terrified when he died. a small laugh escaped her, dry and humorless, aching. "i miss him." ocean eyes turned to the sky, searched hopelessly for any star that could possibly be his. reminded her of looking for her mother all those moons ago. she never found anything, but she never stopped looking.

    "i wish..." ...it had been me. he hadn't deserved to die. endlessly gentle boy scared of the world. just as fragile as finch. half as fortunate. it should have been me. "i don't remember the last thing i said to him." another chuckle. what a silly thing to think about now. "sometimes i'm not even sure if i remember what he looked like. what color eyes he had... if his nose was pink or black." gaze fell from the twinkling stars to the world around them. how dull the earth seemed in the wake of the heavens. "i-is that bad?" am i bad? how many memories had she forgotten? how many moments would she never remember? how much of him had she lost?

    she never considered herself one to be consumed with the past -- with what could have been, what was -- but the truth was, finchblossom could never truly escape it. couldn't ever escape the flood of sorrow or fear or anger that found her at random. couldn't escape the way the past tended to come back and haunt her. couldn't escape the memories that consumed her. her footing and reality were grounded in the vices of days gone, and there was nothing she could do about it. so, despite knowing bluemask was at her side and despite knowing he wouldn't let anything hurt her, finch couldn't help the way her heart quickened at the sight of sunset. couldn't help but to see her blood in the vivid display of crimson sky. couldn't ignore the sound of her loved ones mourning over her. she felt... fear.

    but she kept close to him, allowed the sound of his voice to lull her back into the waking world where his tone was tender as he spoke, explaining without telling. "special?" she echoed inquisitively though it was a question she rather he didn't answer. for once, she'd keep quiet and listen. she'd let her friend's quiet musing fill the marshland around them, cling to his words so her mind wouldn't wander too far and get lost in the dark. the last thing she wanted was for bluemask to have to find her. he had already brought her back so many times.

    she could hear the distant roar of water as they approached, and at once, she understood where he had taken her. the gorge was not somewhere she typically ventured. she heard dangerous and wild tales of cats brave enough to jump it. heard heartbreaking recollections of cats who came to die. bluemask fit neither of those categories in her mind, but before she could ask, he would explain. her eyes turned to him as he unraveled himself for her once more. shared his side, offered it to her. she couldn't help but to ask herself why? she had hurt him and yet he was still willing to show her something like this. still willing to give her pieces of himself. she didn't deserve it. she hadn't even been willing to fight for her life -- she had hurt him. "blue..." sapphire gaze, half as brilliant, dropped to her paws before timidly crawling up to the sky. "do you come here often?" finchblossom hoped for a specific word, a specific answer that she was unsure she'd get.

    eyes studied the stars above. only days prior, she could hear the voices of their ancestors calling her home. she had turned her back to them. to cliff, rose, owl, hawk... she denied them. were they angry with her? did they mourn her like bluemask and gladestar had done? did they cry as she floated between worlds -- neither here nor there -- barely slipping under the umbrella of existence? her eyes shifted back to the boy of ivory and ice, fragile now as he stood before her. she knew she had made the right choice... but what had it cost? she didn't know. "i... i'm happy you brought me here." do you hate me as much as i do? she moved to press her side against his. just to make sure they were both real. just to make sure he was still supporting her. just to make sure.