wiped out [closed]

(OOC: takes place before Feb's gathering)

She was acutely aware of the way the once extraordinarily soft nest had become flat and nothing more than a barrier between her and the cold stone beneath, but the molly could not find the energy to change it herself, and she couldn't ask her warriors or apprentices to do such a menial task for her. A soft sigh clouded around her brown muzzle, her breath hot against the cold air around her, a shiver unwillingly passing down her spine as she thought about the Leafbare chill that had descended upon her clan. Prey had been driven far beneath the ground, and while Heronstar was aware of some warriors seeking out new techniques that allowed them to hunt in tunnels and underground, the vast majority didn't.

The fresh-kill pile was often empty by this time of Leafbare, catches being delivered to the nursery before anyone else was allowed to even think of taking a bite. The leader had foregone food many times the past few weeks, figuring she could handle the blow of not eating more than the younger members of her clan, and in the back of her mind she knew it was what Brindlestar would do.

Brindlestar, the name tore the breath from her lungs for a moment, the pain still fresh and raw moons later. Heronstar had done her best to lead in the former leaders shadow; to do what she believed the other would've perceived as right, and now she found herself starving alone in her den.

She... she wanted to say she had friends within her clan, someone close, but she was well aware of the suspicions and dislike that simmered in some of the warriors; ones who refused to believe in Brindlestar's disappearance, and ones who were still hung up on her choice of deputy. If you asked the molly why she had chosen Featherpelt, she could barely even begin to explain her reasoning-- it had honestly been more of a spur of a moment decision, never something the molly thought she would have to chose on her own. A lack of counselling had definitely weighed into it too, but despite that she had found relief in her choice of deputy through the cold moons, especially recently as she became more reclusive in her den.

Speaking of counsel, Heronstar's thoughts drifted towards her medicine cats, stress welling up thick in her chest thinking about either cat. Softcloud's life had been in the balance, and now she was being forced to retire; far too wounded to ever take up duties once more, no matter how hard a cat was willing to work with her, and the leader had to accept this. However, this now meant that Yewpaw was the sole medicine cat of WindClan, and after the events at the deputy ceremony, she had begun to thoroughly doubt and distrust her own son. It seemed as time went on, he slipped further into a state, never to be found without some sort of herb or berry in his jaws, mind clearly far off in the clouds. How was she meant to lead a clan with him as her direct link to StarClan?

StarClan. Oh how she hoped one day Brindlestar would visit her dreams, let her know she got a little lost along the way and what Heronstar had seen was just a bad dream. But the denial had begun to slip away- honestly, every feeling she had towards the loss of her former mentor had begun to slip far away- and now she found herself accepting the situation for what it was. Of course her heart broke more at the mere mention of the molly's name, but the leader knew no amount of begging and pleading would allow her to see Brindlestar one last time.

Heronstar had barely realised, but as she had been enveloped in her thoughts, the sun outside had begun to dim significantly, and she could almost see something white shimmer in the corner. Her body felt hollow, the rumbles of the mollies stomach beginning to fade, the energy draining from her muscles. Her vision had grown quite bleary, her mind incredibly foggy beyond thoughts of her clan and ones that had been important to her. Something was whispering from afar, dragging her into its depths, and she had no ability to fight it. Despite this, she felt no sense of alarm, instead feeling more calm as she realised just how tired she was.

Before her eyes flitted shut, a familiar fluffy white form made his way into her den, coming in close and curling around her frail body, tongue rasping across the top of her head. "Cloudpaw?" Heronstar's voice was barely above a whisper, and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. "I missed you so much. Please don't leave me again," she murmured, memories of realising he was missing circulating once more, drawing tears from her eyes. He's back, it's okay, I can rest, the molly told herself, letting the darkness sweep her conscious away to a place filled with warmth.

---

The open moors of WindClan greeted her, free of snow and frostbitten flora, rich with the scent of prey and the most vibrant green you could imagine. But instead of the normal relief one would feel being with their ancestors, she felt sick to her stomach-- especially realising the pangs of hunger that had become so incredibly familiar had disappeared entirely.

She was dead. Her first life, gone.

As she rose to her paws, her father joined her silently, not meeting her gaze and not approaching her. His tailtip flicked slightly, betraying his feeling, and after what felt like moons of silence, he turned to her, heartbreak plastered across his face.

"I know you were only doing what you believed was right, but Heron, this isn't you. You are doing what you believed Brindlestar would do, rather than being the leader she would want you to be. You are your own cat, and it is up to you to make the decisions you think are right. Don't waste all your lives chasing what Brindlestar would've done or wanted; you know she wouldn't want that. It is not why she made you deputy," His voice was level and quiet, but his eyes betrayed deep sadness, obviously uncomfortable watching his daughter waste away while he had access to everything they needed down below.

"Leafbare is never easy, and we're not done yet. Beware my love, take care of yourself. Don't let me catch you back here anytime soon," Grayfrost padded over, pressing his nose to the top of her head.

All Heronstar could do was nod, feeling the warmth of the sun fade as she was thrust back into the cold cavern, every part of her body stiff and protesting movement. Despite this, she felt a little stronger. The cold didn't pierce through her fur as harshly, the emptiness of her stomach was no longer as severe, and the brightness of the sun on the snow caught her attention.

Cloudpaw! The leader immediately jumped to her paws, feeling the world spin a nauseating amount as she looked around her den for the tom. "Cloudpaw?" Heronstar called out, voice crackling, before realising he wasn't here. And he wasn't in StarClan. Oh stars, don't let this be like Brindlestar-- please let him come home to me, please, the molly pleaded to nothing in particular, shutting her eyes as she tried to envision him just outside of WindClan territory. Attempting to rationalise it as she had in the past - he was just exploring, finding himself outside of the clan - she took a deep breath, trying to think of what to do now.

Did she tell someone? Her deputy? Her medicine cat? Probably, but she wasn't able to tell Yewpaw, worried of how quickly the rest of the clan would find out from his absent minded rambles. Well, here goes nothing, the molly thought, pushing out of the den, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the light of the sun on the snow.