#moon -8

[sedge-and-sanctuary]

Interlude - 17 Moons Ago

Coniferfrost - 12 moons - Medicine Cat Water murmurs over the stones, echoing and overlapping ‘til it sounds like voices, speaking just outside of hearing range.

Coniferfrost pauses, at the edge of the Moonfalls, and takes a breath.

The grotto is warm– muggy, in the height of Greenleaf, and thick with kit-soft mosses. The pool within flashes, now and then, with the bodies of silver fish, and the reflections of moonlight.

Coniferfrost picks his way down, carefully, across slick stones, following the path of a spring, where it bubbles down to feed the covered pool. The water mutters gentle welcome, frothing down in brief and lovely falls, which spit up spray into the Greenleaf air. 

Two other springs trickle in, from other openings; one stream for every clan, all feeding the same, deep pool. Featherclan’s falls- the highest- bubble from the south. Finclan's foam in from the west, raising a cool spray above the water; silvery with moonlight, so the air takes on a misty, glowing quality.

And from the north- Furclan’s river pours into the cave, breaking into smaller streams before rejoining to go fizzing down the rocks. Back along that stream, the trees bristle with needles, more than leaves. The ground goes silvery with frost.

Perhaps, Coniferfrost thinks, he will go in that direction. Sickness always seems to fester, in warm air; maybe the cooler climes of Furclan- of the territories beyond- will keep it back.

His next breath has the memory of rot on it; bodies growing worms, in the greenleaf heat. The stench of  fever-sickness on hot breath, in panting mouths–

He shakes himself.  Yes. Definitely north.

He pads up to the edge of the pool, and sees his own reflection in its surface. His face distorts, as one of the grotto’s eyeless fish flashes past, and Coniferfrost hooks it deftly from the water.

He pins it, flailing, beneath one paw, and closes his eyes in reverence. “Starclan, I offer you this bounty. May we share prey, and tongues, beneath the moon.”

The words are rote, familiar. Coniferfrost bites into the fish, and as he swallows the star-touched flesh- he drifts away.

Starclan forms around him, silver and misty as the grotto. Cats pad out of the fog; silent figures, watchful. Familiar.

The fish lies at his paws.

The eyes of the dead fix upon it.

So many, lost in recent moons; Coniferfrost swallows. It is said the dead feel no pain, in Starclan– no hunger, or thirst, no sickness or exhaustion. But the living cats who visit must be exempt from this rule– because Coniferfrost’s chest aches. 

Little Gullkit and Starlingkit are the worst, huddled behind the paws of older clanmates. Their parents still linger in the living world– though Coniferfrost thinks their mother will not be long behind them. He can still hear Quailquil’s breathing, thick and laboured. Can still see the bloody mucus dripping down her chin, and caking in the fur of her chest.

Lost in thoughts of Featherclan’s overburdened medicine den, Coniferfrost doesn’t notice, at first, when one cat breaks from the crowd, and snaps up Conifrrfrost’s offering. A lean, long-backed brown tabby, white markings spreading in splotches from his belly. The fish crunches between his teeth, its red blood strangely vivid in this silver place.

Coniferfrost snaps out of his daze, at the sight of it. “Cooperstar. You made it to Starclan.”

“I did.” The lean tom dips his head. “I am sorry to have left the clan in such a state. It is a heavy burden I have left you with.”

It is, rather. Cooperstar’s deputy had died of the mysterious plague, too– just before Cooperstar had. The leader, in the throes of fever-sleep, had not been lucid enough to name a replacement. No leader, and no deputy. For medicine cats, only Coniferfrost- only just out of apprenticeship- and little Lizardpaw, who had been called to the medicine den in desperation, when the more experienced Sparrowfur had died. Warriors failing, kits sick, elders dropping like flies. A heavy burden, indeed.

But Coniferfrost only says, “I know you would have stayed, if you’d been able. If– Sparrowfur had been alive, when you fell sick…” “Sparrowfur could not have done more for me than you did.” Cooperstar’s voice is warm; sincere. “She taught you very well– and speaks highly of you even now, watching from beyond.”

“I suppose.” Coniferfrost hunches his shoulders. That was kind– but where is Sparrowfur, then, if Cooperstar is telling the truth? Why hadn’t she come to see him? 

“Come now,” Cooperstar nudges Coniferfrost’s shoulder; a cool contact. Impossible to ignore that he’s no longer among the living. “Coniferfrost. Look where your loyalty- your determination- has brought you. You’ve come to speak with us on behalf of Featherclan, have you not? You have done- you are doing- all you can, for them.”

Coniferfrost swallows, hard; an almost painful gesture, like eating fishbones whole. He almost loses his nerve–.

But only almost. The kits bolster him. The little blue-eyed kits, with stars in their pelts, and chubby paws they will never grow into. Gullkit and Starlingkit, dead, and their clan racing to follow, as if in some great game of chase. “I would like to do more,” Coniferfrost says, the words rehearsed. “To heal them all– to save them. But if the sickness comes to me… I fear for Featherclan’s future. I’ve taught Lizardpaw all I can, but he’s so young– he can’t bear it alone.”

“No.” Cooperstar’s eyes cloud with sadness. “I know he can’t. But Starclan’s power is not limitless– I cannot shield you from the plague, much as I wish to. I cannot send you a cure.”

Coniferstar’s heart is a frantic thing, beating in his ears. This is it. Surely it will work. It has to. “I know.” He fights to keep his voice level. “But you can send me time. More time, to help them. To train Lizardpaw. More lives.”

Cooperstar’s eyes widen, just a fraction. “You want me to make you leader.”

Unreal, to hear it said out loud. What’s been, ‘til now, only a fantasy inside his head. Something brewing, growing, rooting, since Cooperstar had died.

Coniferfrost ducks his head. Takes a breath. And then– “yes.”

There– it is in the open. He’s said it.

There is a silence. 

“Persuade me,” says Cooperstar.

Coniferfrost sags with relief– that’s good. That isn’t a no. “The clan has sent me, to ask for Starclan’s guidance on our leader; I’d like to come back with it resolved. They’re so frightened. So uncertain. They look to me already for suggestions with the sickness. They follow me. But–.” He makes an effort, and meets Cooperstar’s eyes. “If I fall sick, and die, there is no one left to lead Featherclan in matters of the plague. No one even to consult with Starclan. If I fall ill- fatally ill- the lives will allow me to outlast it. Not forever. But I hope long enough…”

“Yes,” Cooperstar says. “I see.”

There is a pause. Coniferfrost’s breath is hard in his chest; It is all he can do to keep from trembling. “Then–”

Cooperstar sighs. “Then– Coniferfrost. To die is no easy thing; even with nine lives. To die nine times of the same sickness… It is a torment I wouldn’t wish on any cat. And you’re so young…”

That won’t be a problem, Coniferfrost thinks. But of course– he doesn’t say it. Only fights to hold eye contact, to keep his voice from shaking. Almost. Almost. “Younger cats already have been killed by this.” He looks past Cooperstar, to little Gullkit watching him with wide, blue eyes. “I know you would keep any cat from suffering, if you could. You were a good leader, Cooperstar. A great one. But–”

“But even the best leader can’t prevent a plague.” Cooperstar sighs; he seems old, suddenly, though he had still been in his prime, when he had died. “And I fear I wasn’t that. So many things I could have done differently…”

He trails off. Starclan is silent around them, except for a murmuring of voices; very like the noise of water at the Moonfalls.  Coniferfrost waits, his heart hammering. The only thing still living, here– and soon to join them in the afterlife, if he doesn’t succeed. 

At last, Cooperstar lifts his head. “Very well. Name your deputy as soon as you return to camp. And their successor, too. Bring our clan back from the brink.”

Coniferfrost blinks. He almost says– just like that? It had worked– it had worked. “I will,” he says, from very far away, his mind racing to catch up. “I swear it.”

“Then step forward, Coniferfrost, and receive your first life. I give you one for courage. May it never fail you.”

[divider]

Coniferfrost- Coniferstar, now- is still shaky, as he crosses the border into Furclan.

His legs don’t quite want to hold him– or. That’s not quite right. His pelt doesn’t quite want to hold him; there’s so much energy, so much life, buzzing beneath his skin, it feels like it might split at any second, and go spilling all of him out into the balmy air.

Some cousin to adrenaline, magnified a thousand times.

He can barely make himself stand still long enough to scent the air. There is no trace of Furclan– thank the stars. Coniferstar might shake apart, if he had to hide and wait for them to pass.

Was it like this for Cooperstar, after his ceremony? Or–

A thought, at last, stills Coniferstar, in full. That boundless, burning energy sputters, cold. Dies out.

Or does Starclan know, somehow? What he plans to do? They must see he’s heading away from Featherclan territory. Are the lives he’s gained rebelling, at his plan? 

Coniferstar closes his eyes. His new clan can never be allowed to speak to Starclan. They can never be allowed to come near the Three Clans’ territories.

No. It will be a fresh start– healthy cats. Good air, untainted by the smell of rot. Coniferstar will not die, choking on his phlegm, not die shivering and feverish, not cough until his lungs give out. Perhaps he won’t have to be a medicine cat, at all– won’t ever watch another clanmate waste away.

A cool wind blows. Coniferstar lifts his nose, to it. Fresh, sharp air; bright with the smell of salt. Yes– North. Past Furclan, and beyond. Through the rocky hills, afroth with wildflowers. To find some cleaner place.

Coniferstar shakes himself, and waits a moment, until the pelt settles smooth across his back. The manic energy has faded, but his legs are sure, and strong, and feel like they might carry him for hours, yet.

He sets off, into the wind–

–And in the medicine den, in Sedgeclan, Harebolt wakes up, with a jolt.

[porcelain-rob0t]

on identity, healing the inner child, fursonas, and cringe culture

[otiksimr]

Poorly drawn Onix line (With a slightly less poorly made Steelix)

[daily-spooky]

[crabsnpersimmons]

It has come to my attention that I haven't drawn sun and moon as chibis yet

I have rectified the situation:

all is right with the world

[shepscapades]

49. Moon Waltz - Piano Version — Cojum Dip

Tuna, i don't know HOW you picked this song but it's literally one of the most heart wrenching things on dbhc Tango's playlist so. congratulations. i think <3 I think I said ages ago in some tags that Tango was about to get the dbhc Etho Angst treatment, and i got very quickly distracted/consumed by Destruction and Doc/Xisuma related Angst, but boy oh boy am i glad i get to finally hit on a little bit of this poor man's trauma LDFKJGDFG

I'l try to keep this brief but. I'm insane enough about the hermitcraft season 8 finale as is, and even more than that i'm crazy enough about Tango's hermitcraft season 8 finale, and then on top of all that, you're telling me a jaded, bitter android whose characterizing moments of anger and failure are carried on his sleeve is the same android who tried to be the hero and save his friends, only to let an oversight be the reason he not only fails, but destroys his body in the process???? ?? ? A machine who isn't supposed to make oversight mistakes???? A machine who somehow let a rabbit be the reason he failed ? ? ??? I dont know what you expected from me other than to be extremely unwell about him and this whole arc in general

The base version of this song is just as good, but something about the piano version gets the vibes just right for these scenes... Something about the waltz-style cheeriness of the vocals contrasting to how horrific the lyrics and situation actually are. Idk man i'm fine don't look at me

[allaboutrings]

14k Yellow Gold Jade Ring

[sprinklesharkie]

moon big ? no ｡ moon fast

[botanicalsword]

Moon & their security & emotional needs

Understanding Emotional Needs

Emotional stability is a state that can arise, varying based on our emotional needs and response.

>> Indicator • Nurturing your soul • what makes you a Healer

✧ Moon in the 1st House

Strong self-awareness

pursuit of validation

their emotional needs revolve primarily around themselves

exhibit nurturing qualities

Source of Security - independency, take care of others and your own emotions and needs more independently

✧ Moon in the 2nd House

A passionate worker - highly focused on work

place great importance on a sense of gain or loss

Excellent concentration skills

Source of Security - material foundations, financial stability

✧ Moon in the 3rd House

excel at gathering information

find satisfaction in gaining knowledge

Source of Security - lies in acquiring information, continuous learning, thirst for knowledge, the ability to effectively communicate and interact with others.

✧ Moon in the 4th House

are the guardians of their family

deeply care for and nurture their parents

strong sense of belonging to their home and family

Source of Security - A stable family, a familiar environment, a comfortable and safe space

✧ Moon in the 5th House

have a wide range of hobbies

find fulfillment through entertaining children

pet lovers

Source of Security - express through various forms of entertainment, adventure, creation, love, enjoyment

✧ Moon in the 6th House

workaholics

appearing stoic on the surface but harboring great passion within

find security in stable employment and a harmonious work environment

have sensitive digestive systems

Source of Security - serve the daily affairs of life, be organized, and pay attention to order, practicality and details

✧ Moon in the 7th House

yearn for companionship

nourish their souls through intimate relationships

Source of Security -  their significant other, harmonious interpersonal relationships, good reactions and feedback from others, natural and gentle atmosphere

✧ Moon in the 8th House

highly sensitive and intuitive

prone to emotional vulnerability

easily become engulfed in their emotions

Source of Security - Understanding the truth, motives, and real emotional needs of others provides them with emotional security

✧ Moon in the 9th House

prioritize self-improvement

seek to overcome inner unrest through constant learning and personal growth

Source of Security - exploring the unknown and seeking spiritual resonance

✧ Moon in the 10th House

strive for wealth, fame, and success

believe that achievements can repair their souls and provide them with a sense of security

Source of Security - their professional accomplishments

✧ Moon in the 11th House

excel at maintaining balance in their social relationships

susceptible to external influences

Source of Security - interactions with groups and older female figures, seeking validation, acceptance, and support

✧ Moon in the 12th House

conceal their emotions

display negative and depressive moods

struggle with expressing themselves

have fear or barriers when it comes to communicating with women

Source of Security - solace in spirituality, healing, wisdom, and acts of charity

✧

>> A note to ✦ Venus / Pluto aspect in Natal Chart

>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content

Quick Access to : ❥ Astro / Asteroid Indicators ❥ Synastry / Composite Chart Observations ❥ House Stellium Observations ❥ Astro basic info / Brief reads ❥ Asteroid database ❥ Personal studies ✧ spiritual journal

Exclusive access : Patreon

/ instagram : @le.sinex / @botanicalsword

[hattafan2593]

One Dialogue, Two Conversations

What Stolas is saying: "You don't believe me when I say I love you. I fucked up so badly that you won't take anything I say seriously. There's no point in fixing this because it's broken beyond repair."

What Blitz hears: "I got what I wanted from you, and now I'm bored with you. You won't play my game, so there's no need to keep you around."

What Blitz is saying: "You can't just dump that on me and then walk away. Explain it to me! Talk to me like a fucking person! You say you care about me but you won't even listen to me!"

What Stolas hears: "I don't just not love you. I resent you. I think you're the biggest piece of shit in existence, and the only reason I put up with you is so you won't screw me over more than you already have."

[paper-lilypie]

it’s a date!

[ping-ski]

moon ass monday extra that i shittily colored after my shift

[sleepyminty]

Cant wait for don ‘was gifted a loving father’ quixote/sancho acting skill put into test against hong lu’s horrendous family

[lu-is-not-ok]

"After all, who is the dreamer? Is it myself as I had existed in that dream, or myself who has awakened from it?

Well. Whichever it may be, whether it is a butterfly or not, I guess it will flutter away once again."

[loudclan-clangen]

The song “Beautiful Little Fool” for Fiercestripe? Because I am not getting over her death. Listened to it and she was the first character to pop into my head.

You’re so right!

YES! Please do, I would love to see it!

The boring answer is that I've been drawing cats for a VERY long time. I think since I was 8 they have been the majority of what I drew. The less boring answer is you know the movie Spirit? It changed my life. It had a bonus video where one of the artists taught you how to draw Spirit himself and it was the singular thing that inspired me to start drawing (more likely possessed me). I think I must have been about two the first time I saw it because I cannot remember a time before I had that video memorized. I would spend hours sitting in front of that video (which was only like 10-15 minutes long) with a stack of papers just fully focused on perfectly following his instructions. I still think about that video to this day. Every time I draw legs the voice of James Baxter echoes through my mind. I don't know if that translates to why my cats are so beefy, I own a cat who is quite chonky, so that might contruibute to it, but now you have a fun fact about me regardless!

All of the heirs are chosen based on birth order! Whoever is born first gets to be heir. I personally find that making strict rules about stuff makes playing the game a lot easier for me, I find it stressful to try to pick a "good heir" when I don't know what's going to happen later in the game so to limit that I just let it be completely out of my hands. 2. The game rolled for Songpaw to become a medicine cat! I would have changed it if he was an only kit or probably if I had known that Dashpaw was gonna die, cause I was really stressed about losing my run at that point, but I do my best to write a story that makes the game make sense rather than change what the game gives me when possible. I think it helps me to not have much of a story in mind while I play, just noting down events and thoughts and then going back and piecing it all together afterwards. That way nothing can "go wrong". 3. "Heir-hood" only applies to the leaders. There is no expectation that Cavepaw will become a healer. When Weed dies that position will be open until someone wishes to volunteer for it. 4. Honestly I don't really know. This might spoil a little bit, of tension, but I truly never had that happen. I was SUPER worried about it and did a lot to make sure it wouldn't, but after a couple of generations you get to a point where almost everyone is descended from a leader at somepoint. (And also everyone is second cousins with each other but you know what there are some problems that you just have to live with.) I image the clan would look for an omen and just pick a new leader based off of that and start the process all over again. In my experience worst comes to worst just make sure you have a very accurate family tree and trace it back a couple of generations.

Thank you so much! I don't play with any mods for Loudclan, I'm too scared to lose saves to less than stable code. My favorite mod currently is Kori's Awoogen though! I just like to look at the beautiful art mostly. I use mass extinction as population control, so I turn it on and off based on how many cats I have. Two full pages is the upper limit of what I'm willing to deal with, so once a third page opens I turn mass extinction on and after an extinction happens I turn it back off. (also if I dip below 1 full page I turn unknown parents on until I'm back to two pages again). I've found after a couple of generations you can mostly stop worrying about it because the bloodlines have spread so far there's always someone who's a 6th great great cousin or something.

The game generated him Dashpelt! I probably would have picked Dashfoot to stick with the generated them of a boring suffix but to make more sense overall.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 317

IMAGINE THIS: Lil baby Damian, bored and being not quite old enough to start learning how to use proper weapons (curse these wooden ones, he wants true steel!) is wandering the base. This is not out of the ordinary, he’s the prince after all. What is out of the ordinary is that his shadow, his Akhi, is not here. 

Technically, he should be napping, but he woke up and neither his mother or his brother- who is quiet but gentle and isn’t a good speaker (mother said it was from a head injury)- is there. Which is how he finds his way to the Pit, which he’s not supposed to be at. Or at least not alone. 

But! His mother and Akhi are there! And- and Akhi is screaming and he’s never heard him scream like that, like he’s in agony- His eyes are green- they were blue, had, had Mother placed him in the Waters- 

And then the pool is bubbling- he should be running away, get assistance or something, he’s five, he shouldn’t be running towards it when everything is screaming to flee. But one moment he’s at the doorway, the next he’s clinging to his akhi as something writhes in the Pit, a mighty bellow echoing even as the Shadows take defensive positions. 

The water cascades, laps at their feet, splashes everywhere as a scaled form rises from the depths, wings like a bloodied sunset spreading as fur bursts into flames. Crimson eyes glare down at them all, pupils slits as they bare down at his Akhi. 

The creature- the dragon- dips its head down, its breath warm as it chuffs at his akhi, wings folding as though it is bowing. His akhi is clinging to Mother, shivering, several scars glowing as they fade and a burst of hair burned white. 

Oh. 

Oh.

@fairy-lights-and-blobs @f4nd0m-fun @hdgnj @radiance1 pspspspsps