Grovestar

Grovestar is a small, inky black she-cat with pale, haunting green eyes.

## Personality

Awkward, reserved, and caring, Grovestar is a strange cat. It takes a while for her to get to know cats and talk openly with them, but once she does she'll make sure to care for them- much like a mother would for her kits. She has trouble sharing her emotions, finding sharing such inner thoughts strange, but she does try to make herself more open to the cats close to her.  However, the one thing that she doesn't bother to hide is her worry; she is almost constantly worried for her kits, but at the same time is glad that they've gone on to start a new life for themselves.  She's a doting mother who cares about every thought inside her kit's minds, no matter how insignificant it might be.  Even though they might not need her anymore, she hates the idea of not being apart of their lives, so she tries to include herself in little ways, as she is also worried about becoming a nuisance and being asked to leave them alone.  Grovestar is a family cat more than anything else, and she tends to spend her time around them more than anyone else; unless she gets pulled away, where she will return to her quiet, awkward self.

## Lives

1. Gratitude — Foamkit
2. Tolerance & Negotiation — Graykit
3. Endless optimism — Ottersplash
4. Joy — Splashpaw
5. Perseverance — Birchpelt
6. Trust — Cliffrunner
7. Acceptance — Scalefang
8. Strength of heart — Ivyshade
9. Courage & Strength — Jaggedstar

## Long Posts

### ivy dies and grove gets the Big Sad

The sight of a corpse was something that unsettled Grovestone.

It was looking at something that shouldn't be still. It was filled with life just a short while ago, and now there wasn't even the slow and steady rise and fall of its flanks. Still, it looked so lifelike, muscles relaxed in death and arranged just so to make it seem as if it was sleeping — but it wasn't, not really. It looked as if it would sit up at any moment, offer its' loved ones a smile, and go on with their life as if the incident had never happened.

But that wouldn't happen. No matter how much the loved ones in question would want it to, it was something that was beyond StarClan's reach.

It took her longer than it should have — because of denial, she supposed, or maybe she just hadn't processed it quite yet — to realize that the corpse in front of her now was Ivyshade's.

And she fell, like a rock skipping its way down the cliffs, going faster and faster until it landed on the beach far, far below. Tears blurred in her eyes as she stood over her mate — when had her paws carried her over? — and it was almost like her legs gave out from under her. She buried her face into the other she-cat's pelt, and she couldn't stop herself from sobbing, even more so when a cat grabbed onto her scruff and pulled her away, telling her not to touch her because she might get sick, too.

All she could do was cry, and think about how Ivyshade was *gone*, now. No more sleeping in the same nest at night, no more shared meals, no more walks together, no more conversations, no more mothering their kits together. She was gone, and she was never coming back. It was beyond StarClan's reach — aside from one occasion.

Grovestone had always felt a little bad for Thunderheart when her and Jaggedstar were together, and Swiftheart after her, and it was even something that extended to Scarletflower of MarshClan — having to watch your mate die over and over again was something akin to torture in her mind. Once, the Clan had thought that Jaggedstar was gone for good, the rest of his lives taken away in a single moment, and once he had come back from that she'd found that Thunderheart's anger was more than justified.

But what she wouldn't give for that to happen to her now, that Ivyshade would get to her paws and smile at her, and she could yell at her for scaring her and almost leaving her and their family, but she would be *there*, and she would be overjoyed that she was.

But she wasn't there. And she wouldn't be there, not until she died and went to StarClan herself.

Eventually, the tears stopped, and so did the overwhelming sorrow. She went numb, as if all the emotions she had just been feeling were ripped out of her and left her with nothing. She could feel a cat pressed up to her side and trembling — Fallowstep, she quickly realized. She curled her tail around her daughter in an attempt to comfort her, but the numbness kept her from doing anything else. She just knew that her daughter needed comforting, and that she was her mother and comforting her was her job, so she did. Something at the back of her mind suggested that she get up, bring her kits with her and try to get some sleep, but that was pointless. She knew from experiance that she wouldn't be sleeping tonight, and it would be unfair of her to take away the last little bit of time that her family would get to spend together.

Was it ignorant of her to have never considered the fact that Ivyshade might die before her? Maybe it was, especially after Branchshade.

The thought of the tom made her ears twitch atop her head. Every once in a while, she liked to think about what it would be like if he had never died, if she had been able to raise her litter with him, even been able to tell him that she was expecting. When she'd found out about her pregnancy, she couldn't have been happier, because maybe it wasn't the safest time for their Clan and for new kits to be born, but the two of them would be there to keep them safe, so she was sure everything would be alright.

And then Branchshade *wasn't* there.

And then there was Ivyshade, and sometimes Grovestone couldn't help but wonder if she was taking advantage of the other she-cat's feelings towards her; she'd been hurting and scared at the prospect of raising her kits alone, and there she was, offering her support and to help with her kits. Their relationship had definitely moved faster than her and Branchshade's had, and she was feeling so much, *too* much, back then.

Those worries were strongest in the beginning, but as time went on and the seasons went by (had it really been *seasons*? Had it really been *years*, now?) she realized that she really did love the she-cat. She'd known it all along, of course, but she'd still worried that it was fueled by her grief and a want to not have to raise her kits alone rather than the genuine article. Time proved that those worries were for naught, and now she was confident that she loved Branchshade and Ivyshade the same.

But for different reasons, of course. Branchshade was loud and extroverted but also stubborn as all hell, dragging her out of her shell in their apprenticeship and giving her a friendship (which, of course, had led to something more) after her parents had died just before she left the nursery. Ivyshade was calm and goofy and straightforward in the best way, giving her support when she needed it the most and helping her through the most difficult time in her life — and it was certainly a bonus that she found her to be pretty.

But history had repeated itself. She was left by herself and with her kits, and this time there would be no help. The only cats she could sympathize with over this loss was her litter, and she was their mother — she was meant to help *them* through it, not the other way around.

The copper-eyed she-cat had been there to help her through her grief over handsome, amazing, and lovely Branchshade.

And now she was left alone to deal with her grief over just as beautiful, just as amazing, just as lovely Ivyshade.