sensitive topics 平和賛歌 — death

[OAKFANG]

don't try to rush your enemies .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

His breath shuddered, weak against curled lips, surrounded by nothingness but the quiet sounds within the medicine den since he was brought back, falling unconscious at the shrill shout of Spiderlily and Whitelion’s familiar scent encompassing his battered frame. It had been a welcoming smell against the pungent copper, falling silent and swept away into the medicine den to sleep off the worst of the pain.

He remembered little since then other than the quiet thrum of something he had already made peace with since the attack, eyesight worsening and now permanently gone. He was a sitting duck, lost amongst the colorless clouds—nothingness. He laughed quietly, chest shuddering against its weight, maw parted for a brief gasp of breath.

He could feel them now, a gentle presence against his battered frame, fevered and believing that this truly would be the last adventure he’d ever take with friends who had been with him since the beginning. He barely smelled the subtle pear blossoms and bamboo that Spiderlily wore, overpowered by the rich scent of healing herbs. His helm tilted, staring at his old friend with a shudder, teeth gritting at the burst of pain behind his amber hues, dull and colorless like the world he found himself in.

I’m sorry that I cannot walk beside you, old friend. He thought, tongue dry, throat hoarse from misuse. My path lies elsewhere, does it not? He nearly snorted, sounding more like Whitelion than he carelessly wanted to admit. He was a mischievous feline, born with marvelous adventures beneath a curling tongue, following a self-soothing routine, but allowing the chilly breeze to guide him home.

He slipped away with a gentle breath, body falling slack to the gentle rasp of Spiderlily’s tongue against his outstretched neck, humming quietly as Whitelion spoke of another tell, long before ThunderClan.

Welcome home. Honeywish whispered against his ear, guiding him away with soft laughter, joining Oakfang’s loud snort as they padded off. Another adventure begins. A pity he would have to leave his friends, but a time would come when they would rest beneath the same stars, but for now, Oakfang was content to wait.

/ takes place a few days after the meeting - @WHITELION and @SPIDERLILY are present !​

​

thought speech​

 

[batwing]

.i'll be your calm, —————————

————————— before the storm!.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

Being trapped, then dragged back into the den once or twice, really had driven the point home. He needed to stay home in order to heal. That wasn't what every cat was offered, though. The ability to still walk free, unchained by death and burden of injury. Batwing fought daily to ensure that those facing dancing could still find a way to live, to dance, to breathe. But he himself was stuck at home now, his paw wrapped in cobwebs and verbal lashing from the medicine cats sitting deep in his mind.

Perhaps, that's what allowed Batwing to watch the passing of the cat he and another had tried so hard to save. Whitelion and Spiderlily were standing near the recently deceased, and all Batwing could do was offer a low, mournful noise. "I'm sorry." Batwing whispered to the two standing there, to Oakfang- that he could not have been faster, or stronger, to be able to take some of the blows that Oakfang had. His eyes closed tightly, vision turning away moments later.

"speech"​

​

 

[SPIDERLILY]

to be reborn , you have to die first .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He sat beside Whitelion, pressed up against the other as a last tether to reality, feeling the steady rasps of Oakfang’s breath grow weaker and weaker. His heart plunged into darkness, aching like bleeding thorns to pliable flesh giving way under the forceful pressure. He listened with a heavy breath, tongue rasping over Oakfang’s greasy fur in soothing, languid strokes, nose pressed deep into his neck, smelling the familiar tinge of jasmine tea, not too powerful against the aromatic smell of herbs.

He barely remembered his own time spent in the medicine den, heavily pregnant with Whitelion’s litter, in and out of consciousness, mind hazy and filled with blimps of white and smokey brown fur.

He bit his bottom lip, ceasing the grief-stricken wail that threatened to erupt from a parched throat, body moving subconsciously closer to Whitelion’s familiar flank, wishing his mate’s body would swallow him whole. To be so intertwined that one couldn’t tell them apart, where ghostly black met milky white. Safe. His mind whispered achingly, ears pinned back against his helm with a quiet shudder, limbs feeling agonizingly heavy, pressed against Oakfang’s corpse.

Oh, how death can be magnificent, but still just as terrifying, losing his friend to the faraway stars that gleamed above them at night. He laughed, broken-sounding, not at all how laughter should be, tongue rasping over Oakfang’s unmarred cheek for the last time, before his body was encompassed in dirt like a thick, wooly blanket, before his bones became visible as nature took place within his friend's ribcage.

“We will walk the stars together.” He whispered, lips brushing against Oakfang’s cold ear, pulling away to stare at Batwing’s turned form. Why apologize? He wanted to say. It does nothing. His breath unstable, Spiderlily turned away, pressing himself impossibly closer to Whitelion’s welcoming warmth, helm burrowed deep into his mate’s chest who remained uncharacteristically silent, overwhelmed by grief at the loss of a close friend. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[WOLFWIND]

Wolfwind lays on her side atop her mess of a nest – somethin' lovely picked apart by her own claws. It's all she can do now, sleep, and then not. Sometimes she'd play a game with herself, letting her gaze trail over her neighbors and taken tallies to herself. It's all she'd thought Oakfang was doing — sleeping, and then not. There are gaps in her mind from that day where they likely should not be. Sleep - death maybe Oakfang would live again the way that she had, no matter how softly his breaths fell.

But maybe not, because Whitelion and Spiderlily gather 'round as if he were a corpse. But then— Wolfwind's family had done the same thing, and look at her now.

She remembers death. She remembers Howlingstar, eyes empty and fur smattered red. And then she'd been fine; maybe she'd come back different, but ah, she'd been fine. She rose again just the same way Wolfwind had, nevermind all that blood; nevermind any lackthereof. Maybe time was all it would take, for Oakfang to lift his head again.

Or maybe not. She doesn't really know.

" A shame, " she rasps from her nest, and it probably isn't the right thing to say at all. But isn't it better that she said something?

and we're on our way to glory ⋆ ( where the show wont ever end )

• 
  
  

• 

• [ AND THE ENCORE LASTS FOREVER . . . ] WOLFWIND THUNDERCLAN LEAD WARRIOR! LITTERMATE 2 LAKEMOON; KIN TO MANY.
  
  

  SHE / HER, CONFUSED BY BUT NOT OPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
  CURRENTLY 26 MOONS OLD AS OF 1.17.2024. AGES EVERY 1ST.

  
  FRIEND TO MANY! UPBEAT AND UPFRONT. MOVES THROUGH LIFE WITH AN UPBEAT EXTERIOR AND BRIGHT EYES. MAKE NO MISTAKE! TAKES HER JOB VERY SERIOUSLY. THERE'S IMPORTANCE IN SAFETY, RECKLESSNESS ONLY GETS YOU SO FAR. ONCE A FOOL, BUT NO LONGER.

​

 

[GENTLESTORM]

I SEE A SONG OF PAST ROMANCE — Hailstorm had gone out to get some prey for the residents of the medicine cat den, they were his priority at the moment and he picks out a pair of mice before retreating the safety of the den noticing that Whitelion and Spiderlily were near Oakfang. The large tom cannot help but frown through the mice but he walks to both Batwing and Wolfwind desposting the rodents to either of them "Here," He mumbles quietly only to shift his attention once more over to the trio noticing that Oakfang wasn't breathing anymore, a soft sigh leaving his maw at the loss of a warrior and can't help but feel some disappointment in himself that he was unable to help his clanmate recover from the owl attack yet... The wounds must've been too fatal and far from repair and it makes him think of his mate, how she had gone against a bird of prey as well though much more dangerous than an owl... Bigger, fiercer, and sharper talons to part flesh with. He holds his breath for a heartbeat or two before finding his voice and speaks "I'm sorry for your loss,"

He hears what Wolfwind's says and simply flicks an ear, his eyes locked onto the stilled frame of Oakfang and closing them slowly in silent respect. It was a shame. Today, Starclan gained another warrior whilst Thunderclan had lost one. "May he rest well and have good hunting in Starclan." He finally utters with a dip of his helm before turning to where the herbs were stored and searched for mint or rosemary, the den would soon reek of death if he did not do anything about it.

I SEE THE SACRIFICE OF MAN ✦ I SEE PORTRAYALS OF BETRAYALS

• 

  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✧✧✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✧✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✧✧✧✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✧✧✧✧✧ KITTING
  — ✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
  ✦ 51 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ bisexual demiromantic; mates with little wolf
  ✦ currently being mentored by berryheart
  ✦ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ semi-difficult in combat; relies on strength, his large size, and wits
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[tigerwing]

A pang of her own regret filled her, lips twitching as she frowned and fought back the tears at the reveal that Oakfang was no longer with them. I should've been quicker. I should've been stronger. I should've not been scared.

Green eyes were hidden by clenched tight eyelids, ears flattening back behind her head in that same gut wrenching fear and anxiety. Why is death so cruel? Why does starclan have to take them away from us? It isn't fair.

There was no more comprehension on death she had than that once one died, they were gone- in starclan. They were driven somewhere far away where only leaders and medicine cats could see them. They could no longer see their family until death took those unfortunate souls too.

She opened her eyes, solemnly looking towards the now corpse. I swear to you oakfang, I'll do better next time.

She didn't like this feeling. There were no words that could escape her. There was nothing that she could say, nothing she could do. She shifted to rest her jaw upon her paws and sniffles escaped her. She could only do what she did best and stay strong.


​