✦ Spirit of Smokewisp, former leader of Shadowclan ✦
The passage of seasons was a blur for Smokewisp. Her search for Starclan took her across the territories, seeking peace in countless places. Yet, her restless spirit remained. Her spirit rode the winds, rustling the pinewoods of Shadowclan. Her heart joined the ocean, ebbing and flowing with the tide. Within these forces of nature, she found peace for a time. But, her playful days reveling in the land sapped her memories. Left behind was a sense of loneliness and an empty void where something precious once dwelled.
A strong warm breeze, heralding the coming new-leaf, rushed through Shadowclan's pines. Smokewisp brushed past a slushy branch, showering the entrance of a familiar den with melting snow. She paused there, a familiar ache stirring within her chest. "I remember something," she murmured. She delved deeper into the den, the winds following her, gently stirring the moss-lined nests within. A familiar tom with a russet tail worked within. "I know you," she whispered. She took a seat at the corner of the den, watching him as she struggled to recall his name. "Wasp... Wasp... Wasppaw!" she exclaimed to herself, knowing the tom couldn't hear her. He looked older and had likely obtained his full name, though she did not know it.
Memories returned as if bubbling from the depths of a lazy freshwater stream. She had spent moons in Shadowclan camp, her home, struggling to accept her death. Her body had fallen ill, grown weak, and passed while her spirit was sheared from her physical form due to the moonpool corruption. She'd left behind family and friends, including this tom who worked diligently before her.
"How could I have forgotten those so important to me," Smokewisp growled to herself in frustration. Even now the memories threatened to flit away like a startled bird. She needed to act in these precious moments of clarity. Yet, she remembered trying to catch the tom's attention many times over the past moons. Her interventions in the physical world, and other attempts to apparate herself, had been in vane.
Smokewisp looked about the den in panic, desperate for something that would allow her to communicate. Herbs slipped through her helpless paws. Yowling failed to create audible noise. Desperation threatened to overwhelm her as the winds tugged once again at her spirit, calling her to wander the skies above once more. "No, not yet! This may be my only chance!" she pled. Her eyes narrowed with determination as an idea came to her. Instead of shirking the winds, she embraced them. "I'm sorry, old friend. I'm going to make a mess of things," she mewed. A gust whipped the den, sending moss and herbs flying, scattering them towards the walls. As the fearful winds howled through her ears and she called into the gale: "Wasp, I'm still here! Please, notice me!" Her scent infused the wind as her spirit was tugged away with the breeze, back towards the pinewoods.
✦ Spirit of Smokewisp, former leader of Shadowclan ✦
"You can see me," Smokewisp cried in relief. She hadn't expected her desperate plea to work, but being seen after all this time was such a relief. "Finally, oh stars above, you can see me."
His cry of shock comforted her spirit, easing the pull upon her soul. "Please, help me. Save me from this forgetfulness. I need you to ground me, bind me somehow. My spirit lives in-between, wandering the woods. I'm ready for Starclan, but I cannot do it alone." As Waspsight gazed upwards, meeting her gaze, she choked up. A wave of emotions she hadn't felt in many moons tugged at her heart. She was full of love, admiration, and pride for the young tom who stood before her. She wished she could see and remember her kits, her old mate, and how they had grown up and moved on. "Y-you've grown so much," she stammered. "...and I've missed so much." The urge to take to the wind tugged at her once more, with a feverous strength this time. "I want to stay, but I don't have long. I will return on the next breezy night with a clear sky. Come to me, and perhaps we can forge a path to Starclan together," she mewed with urgency. Her eyes softened, her tone becoming wistful. "You're full-grown now, I can only imagine how much the rest of the clan has changed. I'll see you again soon, Wasp." "Use this, and remember me," she whispered. A final breeze rustled through the den as Smokewisp faded away. A mottled tuft of grey and white fur, tumbling in the wind, landed by Waspsight's paws.
W A S P S I G H T
The Clan healer was taking some time to himself. Lately, ShadowClan had been caught up in a quarrel with ThunderClan over half-Clan bred kits and the recent combat between the two Clans resulted in a number of injuries for his Clanmates. He had been treating wounds for a few days now, checking swabs and poultices to make sure that his brethren weren't in bad shape and/or fighting infection. Thankfully, none of the wounds sustained seemed to be serious and he knew now that he didn't have to worry too much over the state of recovery.
I'll have to go out and restock our dock soon... He thought to himself. Dock leaves didn't grow well in the mountains and he had used quite a bit of it to treat lacerations to soothe their pain. "Perhaps I should pay a visit to RiverClan and ask Venomrose if they have some to spare."
Waspsight was going over his supply stocks when a fierce gust of wind blew through his den, surprising him and completely causing a disarray of his plants in the same blow. "What...?" That was highly unusual. While it wasn't necessarily odd for winds to blow through their camp, being so close to the mountains, his den was cautiously sheltered and burrowed deep into a protected surface. Winds this aggressive never reached him. Something within him told him that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't wind causing this disruption.
His bi-colored eyes narrowed in suspicion, squinting against the dim light of the den to look for things only he could see. Yet, despite what he expected, he didn't see any spirits in his den. That, he thought, was more unusual than the rough wind itself. His head tilted in curiosity, perplexed by the situation. "Hmm..." The calico tom hummed to himself, pondering the scenario and what it might mean. While it wasn't unheard of, it was possible for spirits to hide themselves from him since they had become aware of his gift of sight. Perhaps there was a spirit before him that wanted his attention, but did not want to be seen? As his brain was rummaging through the possibilities, a familiar scent wafted nearby.
It can't be-
The medicine cat turned abruptly in the direction the scent came from, his bi-colored eyes wide in surprise as he caught sight of someone he thought he'd never seen again. "Smokestar!?" Ever so faintly, her form persisted above him, seeming to fight against the forces that tried to pull her away.