sensitive topics A HAUNTING FACE ༺♰༻ cygnetstare's vigil

[gravepaw ★]

༺♰༻ "My mama - um." Gravepaw stops. Their voice is shaky, their body is too. Their eyes are frozen wide and teary, and they are small. Oh so small, terribly so. Their mother's body has been decorated with petals. She looks beautiful, she smells like lavender. They can still taste the rot underneath, cooking hot and sour in the greenleaf heat.

She will be buried. They are to see her off. It's fitting, almost. They blessed her with a name, but not courage. Their heart is in their throat.

They feel alone. They want to cry.

"My mama was a good cat. Really - really good cat, best tunneler the clan's ever seen. Um, I think." They don't know how to do this. Their words are clumsy, an imitation of vigils heard before. Then, more honest: "She loved me," they say softly, pitiful and pleading. She loved them, and now she is gone. They are alone. "But she's - um. She's gonna be happy in - in StarClan. She loves them too." Maybe more than she ever loved Gravepaw. She loved death enough to name them for it, and now she will be bestowed a grave of her own. She must be delighted. They hate that thought - the idea that she'd be happy to leave them behind.

They are quiet for a moment. "Buh-bye, mama," they murmur, childish and small. Wide eyes cast over to the other gathered cats. "...You can all say bye too. If you want." She doesn't want them to. They want her all to themself, but - they can never get what they want. She belongs to the stars now, and she belonged to the clan before then. She has never been Gravepaw's alone, as much as it pains them.

‎‎┌── MUSCLE TO MUSCLE AND TOE TO TOE ⋅❆⋅ THE FEAR HAS GRIPPED ME BUT HERE I GO ──┐‎

• takes place shortly after this thread
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
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• 
  GRAVEPAW ♰ they / she, apprentice of windclan, six moons.
  ⭃ a tiny chimera of black and white fur with bulging pink eyes.
  ⭃ bratty and bitter beneath a sickly-sweet demeanor.
  ⭃ cygnetstare x gooseberry, littermate to shriekpaw, heronpaw, & milkweedpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

Sunstar does not know what to do other than hover. He rests in silence before a mourning child, a silent body decorated with herbs as if it may hide the death-scent from her extremities. If he allowed himself to sit in breathlessness, he might pretend that she was resting too. That her pelt did not smell of a monster's breath and dull old blood. Rarely before had he felt so moved. Only since coming to this moor, he thinks. Before this place he had known death to be a thing of celebration. Then again, he had seen so few departures such as this. Coming to WindClan brought to his mind a great many more ways that these cats may die. Starvation and illness, simple folly. No longer did those he cared for die in glorious battle, glad to go as they had always intended to — they are kind-hearted cats who clung to life. They are cats that did not wish to die.

He does not know which way Cygnetstare head fallen. All that matters was that her death had come and passed. Now they were left only to mourn. The pale feline had never been scared of such things. She reveled in the demise of others, of the plentiful things that once had wormed around their grounds. One of the many good things of her tunneler role, he thinks. "She will be mourned in equal measure to the stars that celebrate her return," the burnished tom says tiredly, nosing only briefly to the warrior's shoulder before stepping back. Gravepaw may not have her entirely to keep, but the leader will not intrude for long.

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) 〚 06.03 〛 🟒ᨒ

• ooc: —
• ↟ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆  ⋆̶̬́̀
  ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.
  
  
  
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.

• "speech"

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[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ This is unfair. It is cruel.

Scorchstreak had not looked at Cygnetstare’s face since first finding her splayed upon that treacherous path, haloed in her own blood. She still has not looked, afraid to see her friend’s once-vibrant eyes dulled to the same lifeless pink that had stained the albino parts of the tunneler’s pelt when she had been found. But it does not matter, now; the deputy sees her friend in the face of their kit, who stands facing the clan as they bid their mother one final farewell. They look so small, so fragile. Breakable. The deputy vows to see to it that Gravepaw will not be broken. They will not be alone.

The young tunneler claims that their mother was the best tunneler ever seen by WindClan, and Scorchstreak nods once. "She was… the best." Not among the greatest. The greatest. She had done her job well, had been just as vicious as she was kind, and she had never shied away from the filth that being a tunneler could bring with it. The calico allows Gravepaw to say their piece before stepping forward after Sunstar. The leader’s voice is tired and his lingering is brief; she cannot blame him. Death follows him, a smoke cloud billowing from a star-laden coat of silken fur.

Finally, Scorchstreak dares look at their friend’s face as they step closer to say their goodbyes. Dusted with beautiful flower petals, Cygnetstare looks beautiful. At peace. Scorchstreak touches their nose against white fur, breathing deeply for only a moment. "I will not soon forget you," she murmurs to her friend who will not speak back. Here, she makes a second silent promise to her friend: Your grave will never be bare. I will collect bones in your honor, and they will rest with you.

The deputy re-emerges from their mourning, taking a step back from the body of their friend. They nearly turn to leave—but then golden eyes catch on Gravepaw’s small form, and they cannot leave. Gravepaw is alone at their mother’s funeral. Scorchstreak moves to the younger tunneler’s side, not a word uttered as she sits down beside them.

☽♰☾ IT WAS WAR, IT WASN’T FAIR

• ooc: —
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[ROWANPAW]

〔✦〕It is strange, seeing the lifeless body of a cat they've known their entire life. They had interacted with Cygnetstare on occasion, as fellow residents of the nursery, but they had never been close to her or her kits. Still, they've grown to know her face pretty well, and now it is pale and unmoving and buried in lavender to mask the stench of death. That is what a cat looks like when they're dead, Rowanpaw thinks to themselves. That is what their mother looked like at one point, when they were too young to remember. They didn't even know how she died.

It really is a shame that Cygnetstare would never roam the tunnels with them. Rowanpaw would have liked to learn from the warrior, as would her children they're sure. A neutral yet soft gaze tears from Gravepaw back to Cygnetstare's husk, before they utter quietly, "May the stars guide her path." They echo a common phrase used by other cats in times of mourning, though little substance underlies their words. To be truthful, they are confused by StarClan. They have always been told that their ancestors were benevolent and wise; that they were to be revered and respected. However, they had also been the reason that Snakehiss had gone mad and practically exiled himself out of WindClan. She hesitates to put her faith in them now, but for the sake of her community, she does not vocalize her concerns.

let me walk to the top ( of the big night sky ) //

• ooc.
  
• ROWANPAW —— apprentice of windclan , mentored by webthorn ✦ penned by beatles
  ✦ afab demigirl / they/she pronouns / 7 moons & ages every 17th
  ✦ single / graysexual & monogamous
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— easy combat difficulty / may start fights, won't kill
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are ic
  ✦ biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a shorthaired black/tortoiseshell chimera with heterochromia. a lithe, slightly muscular cat with a smaller-than-average build. a direct line splits their face, as if mirroring an inner battle of identity and belonging. a serious expression usually graces their face, and their amber and blue gaze is always sharpened.

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[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡ Frightkit stares at the body with wide, intense, moonlight eyes. Gross, she thinks, but is far too fascinated to fully look away. From where Frightkit sits, it almost looks like Cygnetstare is only asleep. There are no wounds that cover her white and black coat, no burns to signify the true cause, for all intents and purposes it looks like everyone is mourning a cat taking a nap. But there's a stillness to her body that is interesting to note. When a cat breathes, Frightkit realizes, more than just its belly moves. Like ripples running along a puddle, parts of their form twitches and shift, even if their intake of breath is shallow. Cygnetstare sleeps like a rock. Cold radiates off them like the scent of death - rotting and putrid, even under the heavy perfume of lavender.
Frightkit wants to sniff the body. To memorize that curious smell so unlike anything she'd scented in any cat before. She wonders, if she presses her ear against the mother's chest, would she catch the cat faking it? A flutter of air, a faint plead to wake her back up? Frightkit giggles at the idea, imagining how silly it would be if Cygnetstare suddenly jumped back to life! Would she get to keep her cool new perfume? Teach them all the trick of laying still as an untouched puddle?

She glances at Rowanpaw and Gravepaw, watching the two as they speak their goodbyes. She figures, if she's going to attend this funeral, she should probably say the right things, too. "Um...Starclan light your path " The words are hollow, spoken out of obligation. It's not like Cygnetstare could hear 'em anyway, this feels kinda silly. Unless she's sleeping- Fry fights the urge to laugh. Instead, she thinks about something Cygnetstar did contribute that interests Frightkit enough to comment on.
"oh uh - and thanks for giving us Gravepaw! We'll take good care of them " she promises with a nod, glancing around to see if her words earned her any brownie points - mostly hoping for a pat on the back from Nightgalecry.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/7/24

• // IC opinions </3
  
• 
  " Speech "
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☾ Frightkit
  ☾ DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
  ☾ 6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☾ Windclan Kit
  ☾ Sister to Deathkit, Witherkit, Grasskit, Whitekit and Midnightkit
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☾Physically very easy | mentally very easy
  ☾ Attack in bold #1b1e21
  injuries: None

​

 

[ferretpaw]

For once, Ferretpaw is completely and utterly silent. There are no snide remarks, no teasing comments, no quarrels to be started here. Hazel eyes stare unwavering at the body before them, several tail-lengths away from where Ferretpaw sits - for she would not wish to see death up close.

It's her first introduction to such a concept.. death. That a cat could be here for one moment, and gone the next, is surreal. She hopes, in her life, to never experience such a thing from a cat she loves.. Gravepaw, Grasskit, stars, even the thought of losing Frightkit was deeply upsetting.

As Gravepaw begins to speak, Ferretpaw closes her eyes. She admired the other apprentice in some way, for her upbeat nature. Gravepaw was never dull or boring, or sad.. until now. And.. she isn't quite sure how to process it. She doesn't want her friends to be sad; not out of empathy, exactly, but out of the knowing fear that she could not help. Ferretpaw was not the comforting type, nor the mourning type. She was used to laughing things off and moving on.. but this was not something she could laugh off.

You can say goodbye, too, Gravepaw finishes wish, and Ferretpaw's eyes open again. She waits a moment, debating, and then rises to her paws to approach her friend who mourns so deeply. Cygnetstare is terrifyingly still, but yet so peaceful, as if she is asleep.. Ferretpaw knows better now than to try and wake her. "Goodbye," she croaks out in a crackly whisper, unable to find her quiet voice. With that, Ferretpaw leans in close to Gravepaw and touches her nose to her friend's ear, a silent act of comfort - one driven by instinct that surprises even herself. Though she has not the words for it yet, in the face of her first witness of death, she is sorry for her friend's loss, and she is here.
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• 

  ferretkit FERRETPAW ━━ penned by ixora
  ━━ TUNNELER APPRENTICE of WINDCLAN
  ━━ 6 MOONS,, ages every 31st
  ━━ NPC xx NPC
  ━━ SIBLING to GORSEKIT
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to none | MENTORED by MARMOTBITE
  ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎ | ferretpaw is healthy.​
• 
  
  
• speech is #d98b54​