a lamenting song | figfeather

She isn't entirely sure why she volunteered to be the one to do this. Perhaps it is because she had been there when Sangriaflame ran into the patrol, and perhaps it is because she knows her friend might be a little more vulnerable with her - as she had been before - than would with few others. When she spotted the familiar marmalade pelt of Figfeather returning to camp, Howlfire took a steadying breath, before approaching the other. "Fig..." Her voice catches as she tries to say her friend's name, as though the heavy weight of what she was about to reveal suddenly becomes too much to bear. Howlfire coughs, clearing her throat, and tries again. "Figfeather, could we have a word?"

She waits for consent from her fellow lead warrior, before gesturing for her to follow with a silent flick of the head. It's better to do this now, Howlfire rationalises. Before the whispers of uncertain rumours reaches her ear and she begins to jump to conclusions. Howlfire finds a quiet spot in camp, sheltered from their clanmates. "You might want to sit down," Howlfire suggested. Regardless of whether Figfeather did or not, she proceeds. "I'm not sure how to say but there was an incident at the twolegplace. Fantastream, Coffeesong, and Sangriaflame were attacked by a dog," Howlfire reveals. "Sangriaflame came across our patrol, frantically panting and covered in blood. We asked her what had happened and....I'm sorry but the dog killed Fantastream and Coffeesong."

@FIGFEATHER : (
 

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A measly piece of prey is deposited into the fresh-kill pile as her name is called for a second time. Figfeather has not even heard Howlfire's first attempt to get her attention. 'Figfeather, could we have a word?'

Howlfire's words sound... grim. She does not greet Figfeather as she usually does with a smile. Figfeather gives her a strange look as she wonders if she has done something to upset the she-cat.

"Is something wrong?" she meows, though whatever her friend has on her mind, she will not say it here and now. She gestures for Figfeather to follow, and so she does.

As she follows Howlfire she notices strange looks from her Clanmate's; most of them pitiful. The camp has taken on a somber mood that fills the pit of her stomach with dread.

'You might want to sit down,' Howlfire suggests now that they stand in a secluded spot in camp. Figfeather looks at Howlfire with an antsy, almost irritated look, "What is going on?!"

Howlfire tells her. Dog. Sangriaflame covered in blood. Coffeesong and Fantastream--dead. Figfeather does not have to second-guess if her friend is telling the truth; she knows instantly that there is no way she could be mistaken. Her former mate and son are dead.

Figfeather expects tears to rush from her eyes, but she doesn't cry.
She expects to cry out in disbelief, to scream her sorrow for the entire forest to hear, but she doesn't.

Ice cold claws dig into her heart and jaws bite down to strange her. She begins to lightly pant, it's the only sign of her grief she outwardly shows.

"I-..." What was there to possibly say? Her friend and son were dead. She hadn't known when they left camp today that'd be the last time she saw them. Why does she never got to say goodbye to the cats she loses? Why did they all have to be suddenly ripped away from her?

"Sangriaflame... is she dead, too?" She feels herself clinging onto a string. The answer Howlfire gave to this question had the power to slice it and send her plummeting into a depthless gorge.
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Howlfire waits with bated breath for a reaction from Figfeather. After some time has passed for her words to sink in, Howlfire notes some panting from the other warrior, the only outward sign that the grief was catching up with her. There is an attempt to say something but the words never come, and Howlfire does not push. Grief is a strange thing, affecting everyone differently. Howlfire knew if she were in Howlfire's place she would be unable to keep it together so well.

Eventually, Figfeather asks after Sangriaflame, likely desperate to know if she is alright or whether she was yet another loss for Figfeather to mourn. "She is injured and shaken up but alive," Howlfire reassured her. The chocolate torbie flicks her eyes towards Fireflyglow's den for a moment, before looking back at her friend. "Fireflyglow is with her now." There is a prolonged pause after this, with Howlfire wanting to say more, but not wanting to push Figfeather too far when she wasn't ready. "I'm really sorry about Fantastream and Coffeesong," Howlfire mewed in a sombre tone. She lowers her head, partially out of respect and partially out of her own grief. She hadn't been lovely close with either of them but knew them well enough to be shaken by the violent nature of their death. "They were good cats. They deserved better than-" Her voice catches, a lump in her throat threatening to form.

"You probably want time to process this, I'll leave you be," Howlfire says, almost moving away. She takes a step to the side but comes back, touching her nose gently against Figfeather's shoulder in a comforting, supportive manner. "If you need something, or an ear to talk to, you don't have to ask. I'm here if you need me, Figfeather."
 
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