sensitive topics AS ABOVE, SO BELOW ☀︎ VIGIL

[dimmingsun]

SET SHORTLY AFTER THIS THREAD
OPEN​

"Gracklestep wasn't supposed to lose his life this soon- and certainly not in such a manner."

Dimmingsun's voice cuts through the early evening air, in almost perfect unison with the sparkling stars coming out to play. He speaks in a controlled manner; articulate as always, but it sounds more distant than usual. No words feel correct on such an occassion, not even after how long he's mulled them over before the time has come to bury Gracklestep.

Was he a friend? Hard to tell, but probably not. Neither of them had felt it necessary to label whatever they had. A fire, back when they were more young, dangerous and all-consuming. It still crackled under the surface in recent days, evident in the way Dimmingsun had always rose to whatever scorching remark flew out of Gracklestep's mouth.

There would be no repeat of that now. The sharp-tongued warrior should never be this still and quiet... but whoever had laid their claws on him dictated his fate otherwise. Knowing the culprit wouldn't make this any better either.

Dimmingsun stares a hole through that blackened skull. The hills have not yet recovered enough to warrant much decor in that fur, and even though he had requested some care from the medicine cats, he knew even then that there was little they could do. Wolfsong and Cottonpaw had at least combed through Gracklestep's fur to make it neater — Dimmingsun definitely wouldn't have been able to do so —, but the shortage of herbs forced them to cut corners. There's little reason to use precious materials on someone who's already dead, so if one looks at the cold body long enough, they'd be able to spot the evidence of a fight on his skin.

He takes a breath. Then another. "We mourn the loss of a skilled warrior tonight."
​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — How quickly things could change. It was enough to give a warrior whiplash, thinking about how only a short while ago Riverclan had been welcoming displaced and vulnerable Windclan cats into their territory. Now, they were preparing to bury one of their own beneath the moors, his pelt free of linering scents yet his life seemingly brought to an end by their neighbors. Rattleheart wanted to believe it was just a mistake. That some kind of horrible accident had occurred, and Gracklestep hadn't been torn away from them by Riverclan claws. Yet any excuses tasted like ash in his mouth, disintegrating on his tongue before he could even think to offer them.

How had things gone downhill so fast? Surely it couldn't just be the ascension of Lichenstar to leadership.

Although he and Gracklestep had never been close - the other had gotten on his nerves more than anything else - Rattleheart didn't have it in him to be glad for his death. Instead there was only a weight upon his shoulders as he approached, his children tucked away in the nursery with their father while their mother paid his respects. His pale green gaze was focused on the motionless lump that was Gracklestep's body, stomach twisting when he realized why his body was nearly barren of the usual adornments. "I wish the moors had at least been a little more recovered. If this had to happen..." It hadn't, though. Not really. Starclan's will surely hadn't been that Gracklestep needed to die, had it?

A heavy sigh left him as he took another step forward, nose pressing into the cold lifelessness of Gracklestep's pelt. The stench of blood still lingered, nearly enough to make him recoil if he hadn't forced himself to stay in place. "Goodbye, Gracklestep. I hope that Starclan treats you well. We'll all see you again, someday." As soon as the hoarse words had left him, he took a long stride back to allow others to grieve as they needed to.

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

• 

• 
  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 52 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ❥ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
  ❥ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
  ❥ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
  ❥ currently mentoring downypaw
  ❥ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ all opinions are ic

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The sun has begun to sink from its rightful place in the sky, ushering in the darkness of night. But before anyone can begin to settle into their nests, there is one thing that must be done. A clanmate to be mourned. Dimmingsun leads the vigil for Gracklestep—the relationship between the two had been something unknown by the deputy, but it must have been something meaningful, she thinks. It does not matter now, though.

She stares down at the still corpse, but there is no flash of grief in dulled golden eyes. The only way to deal with it all is to shut it out, and she had not known the tom well. It is easy, and the calico finds that she does not feel guilty for it. Her sorrrow would change nothing, would it? Her clanmate would still be dead.

She stares at Gracklestep’s empty body, and sees the skilled warrior that Dimmingsun speaks of. The tom had done so much for the clan, and had been repaid with a watery grave. He had been bold enough to lead the dog away after Sunstar’s injury, had saved each member of their patrol on that terrible day.

"A skilled warrior, indeed. You did not deserve this." Scorchstreak’s voice does not convey any of the turmoil that she feels—it is low and steady, firm as an iron paw held against the dirt. Gracklestep did not deserve this, and if WindClan is ever to find his killer, they will face judgment for what they have done. She would be glad to see vengeance enacted, perhaps by Dimmingsun himself.

☽♰☾ 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

​

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

PLAY US LIKE PAWNS AND RELENTLESSLY CONFINE
INTO LIVING UP TO GENDER ROLES AND HAVING ABSENT MINDS ​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 23 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan queen ​

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Another day, another death. Truthfully, Periwinklebreeze isn't sure why they're all surprised - though, perhaps he's jsut being pessimistic again. Gracklestep might not have been his friend, but he was still a warrior of windclan. trusted, valued. " H-he will be m-missed, " and surely, he will - if not by periwinklebreeze then by someone else. Friends, family, acquaintances. Dimmingsun, it seems. The tom joining the stars will be mourned, the absence he'd left behind noticed.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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Don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live?​

Don't you think it's funny how we're all delinquent kids?​

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