sensitive topics cemetery gates / the kits' return

[Foxpaw—]

CW ; discussion of character death, specifically these kits' mother. they will be asking for help from older cats to help bury her as they can't do it themselves. if this topic is disturbing or upsetting to you please do not feel like you need to read or participate.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ The trek back to camp is long, and it's difficult. She's weathered the terrain thrice now, and in her stumbling broken grief she has nothing to cling to her in her memory. Everything smells monstrous, dangerous--whatever had killed Dewdrop had left its disgusting stench over the brambles and brush the kits stumble back over. She wants to be hypervigilant, but she can't. It's enough to know her siblings are behind her.

But it had been hard to gather herself, especially after they'd found Dewdrop as well. Froggy's cries. Rocky trying to drag their mother's body in silent determination. Dizzy stating they understood why their mother had left, and that they would take care of the others. It had been too much for the small calico to bear on top of her own wrenching sadness.

She doesn't want to be here. Every shadow that moves could be a fanged monster with a sour scent. Could be her mother, risen from the dead and trailing them with blank blue eyes and a bleeding mouth. Could be the cats who had gone to war; could be the cats they had gone to war against.

The world is dangerous. She realizes this now. And now there is no one to protect her. To protect them.

She and her siblings are fortunate to find the camp again. At six and five moons respectively, they are not children, but they had been sheltered by a mother who had wanted to protect them from the hazards of the marsh. They are not trained. They are not prepared to weather the storm of adulthood that has been thrust upon them.

Foxy blinks owlish eyes frosted over with sorrow towards the nearest marsh cat once she is back in camp. Tears slip onto the plush white of her cheek. Her thick pelt is ruffled, housing clusters of twigs and leaves, and her claws are torn from scrabbling at mud. "We... we need help," she whispers. Her throat hurts. It's clenching like her jaw had during the journey home. "Dewdrop... we can't..." she trails off, wondering if she will have the strength to continue explaining herself.

She hopes they realize what she means. Why Dewdrop's kits have returned in a state of disarray, why they were not there once the battle parties had come home from war.

@DIZZY. @Rocky @FROGGY @ivy @TOMATO / don't have to wait for them to post, just thought I'd get this out here​

✦ PENNED BY MARQUETTE.​

 

[BONERIPPLE]

---

Jerking awake from a fitful sleep the woman blinks her eyes towards the camp entrance. Seeing bundles of fur she had once thought were nestled in dens secure from the pains of blood and death. Has no one checked? Has she been neglectful in her role here? Her mind questions her observing nature and she forces herself to her paws, blood still caking her body here and there but wrapped in cobwebs to make it all stop at least for now. She approaches the children with a leveled head, eyes of molten hues looking at them with a neutral expression despite the pain that simmers under her skin. Ears pull forward as she listens to what Foxy says and she suddenly frowns. They all look so disheveled and all over the place and her maw picks up something else as she breathes in. "Dew....." Something has happened. Something terrible for these kits to come back looking the way that they have and she fells a small tightness in her chest that she ignores for now. She does not have a liking for Dew but she also knows that this is not the time. This is not the time for her to continue her animosity unless necessary.

"Take me...take me to where she lays, children." Is all she asks of them and then she will send them back home. She knows others will follow and other will weep but for her she is done shedding any sort of tears. She cried once...just once when she had been alone, where no one could see her and that was all that she needed to do. She cried for her pain and for the pain of others for the losses and then she shut herself away once more because the world didn't needed weak and vulnerable Bone. Her gaze then lifted from the kits and towards where they will potentially take her and others.
​

 

[salamander]

Blue turned red; coated in the blood of herself, her enemies, and her friends. Or, rather, whom she used to call friends. Salamander felt numb. Despite the blood that still trickled down her throat, she couldn't feel a thing. The knowledge that her whole life had been for nothing had yet to fully sink in. She should have known. How stupid she was to think otherwise.

Salamander yearned for the comfort of her family but they probably felt the same way. No - they couldn't. Could they?

Thoughts veered away from herself, away from the conflict when her cold gaze landed on one of the group's youth. Foxy. One of Dewdrop's kits: adopted but loved all the same. Her eyes were wide and her fur looked like a bird's nest. She crept closer but paused. Why should she help? The moment the thought crossed her mind, she silently cursed herself. They were young, innocent, and clearly distressed. Something had happened. Something bad.

But Dewdrop hadn't been at the fight. Why were her kits so disheveled? Dread crept into her chest. They should have been safe at camp so why-

Bone. The dishonorable molly approached and, for a moment, Salamander braced herself for battle. Thankfully, the disillusioned she-cat ignored her. Just as Salamander would ignore Bone.

Carefully, Salamander approached. She dropped to Foxy's level, quietly adding, "Rest, little one. You don't need to force yourself to come if you aren't able. We can find her if you give us directions." Whether they liked it or not, Bone and Salamander may have to traverse the marsh alone to find the body of Dewdrop.

... The body.

These poor children.

She didn't give false words of comfort nor lie that it would be okay. It would be hell and always remain but, day by day, it would become manageable. Salamander had lost enough friends (and now family) to know that they were never truly gone. That seemed to be true more than ever if deceased cats were transformed into stars in the night sky.

I'm sorry, Toad, but I must assist them. Please wait a little longer. ​

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : icy luminaries watch them arrive and at first, annoyance pinches the space between his brow ; kits out of camp? surely dewdrop had been keeping an eye on them. it soon became apparent from his perch shading beneath a patch of thicket that the situation was more dire than he had initially anticipated. the male stands, slipping from the briar he'd surrounded himself with and approaching slowly, taking in the unfolding events before him. fox's tear - drenched cheeks and wavering voice, her mother's name falling from trembling lips like a prayer and his heart drops, falling heavy in the pit of his stomach. the iron - scent of blood began to drift off of the kits that had attempted to move her body and it made nausea crash over him in waves, the horrors suddenly thrust upon these children were more than he could fully comprehend despite his own past ; at least his had been blocked out by time, nothing but a black blotch up until the moment he was resting safely within hare whisker's colony. dewdrop lie dead somewhere beyond their walls and the thought of her body, alone and torn, made his teeth grit. cicada comes to slot himself between bone and salamander, forcing his muscles to remain lax as not to send the kits into a panic or upset them any further despite the sadness that rolled off of him in waves, bitter tendrils of loss finding its way to his chest once again.

it was fox. the stench wafted from them heavily, he could only assume where they had come across her, as they still stood to tell the tale. his chest shuddered but he mustered a sigh, closing his eyes tight and dipping his head while sal spoke to the children, offering for them to stay, " that's right. you're more than welcome to stay with me here, " he couldn't do much, but he could clean them up -- he could offer comfort, if not anything else while the mollies retrieved their mother for burial. they were only kittens, after all. they would return to the nursery to an empty nest, otherwise. his jaw locked, throat tightening with empathy. these poor kits.

out of character information translations

• − CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty two months old, marsh group member
  − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
  − speaks with a german accent, attack in #171717, penned by antlers
  
  
• none.

​

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[Shimmerkit]

Sage watched the scene, wide eyed as her denmates appeared without their mother. A small whimper escaped the young female's throat. Dewdrop would need to be buried, and her denmates needed to be comforted. Sage remembered the last time she had her own mother, alabaster pelt plastered to the Thunderpath and smeared with crimson. Nobody had buried her. Nobody had even scraped her body from the concrete. Left alone to be crow food, because Sage couldn't move her out of the way.

The seal and white pointed molly sniffled once, got up, and approached Dewdrop's kits. "I'm sorry," she apologized softly. And what more could she do? She didn't know any of them particularly well, though she wanted to, and she wasn't sure if physical comfort would cross a boundary of some sort. Her father had never offered any after her mother had gone, and she wasn't sure she knew how to give it anymore.

And so she turned to the older cats, forcing herself to stand up straighter. She was bigger than Dewdrop's kits, though barely much older, but she couldn't just leave Dewdrop out there, to rot into crow food like her own mother had. "I'll go," she said, determined to help even if they tried to tell her no. "To help."

 

[Patterpine]

i've been patient and steadfast and steady

​

It had taken some convincing to drag Rocky from his mother. He had refused to leave her behind. Only the cruel reality could strip him from his task- that he would fail. The young pewter tom was simply too small, too weak to bring his Mama home. And so with firm strides that rocked pain up and down his spine, he followed his siblings home. Wind-chilled ears squashed flat as if to purge any thoughts of the body they were walking away from.

The achingly familiar pine barrier around camp came into view, the trees' feathered edges sifting into a shadowy softness in the breeze. It was a comfort he spurned. Foxy spoke for them. He let his eyes slide haplessly across the clearing, dull as the marsh's stagnant pools.

At Bone's request, Rocky jolted forward on blood-tainted paws, swaying slightly from exhaustion. With a voice that crackled with a bitter determination, he volunteered. "I'll take you." Expression fierce with a severity that was ill-suited for his gentle, kit-cushioned features, he met her gaze. Her cobweb slick pelt reminded him, like the heralding caw of a raven, about the battle. Bile burnt through him. Their conflict had driven them out, driven Mama to the beast that- No.

Indignation revolted in his willful mind at Salamandar and Cicada's suggestions to stay. He was going back for her. Narrow claws clenched the damp earth beneath them, expelling the hot anger. They were right. The others should stay and rest. The tom curtly nodded and gave a pointed look to his siblings.

Above them the stars shivered, mild against the silken blackness of the night sky. His crooked tail a frail silver banner behind him, Rocky turned back the entrance of the hollow.

/sorry it's so short!
​

 

[DIZZY.]

during the walk back to camp, dizzy became silent. his brain was going too fast all at once but he just needed a minute. just a few moments and he would be okay. for them. for his siblings. someone had to take care of them, right? who else could it be besides him? dizzy wanted their siblings to grief. to yell and scream and cry and most of all... he wanted them to be kits still. he would take over the parent role. it had to be done, no matter how agonizing all this was. he could cry when they slept. when they werent watching because he had to be strong. even if he wanted to give up. and stars did he. how was he supposed to keep going without her?

"She isn't clean."

He speaks up as he looks at the warriors, ignoring his blood stained fur.

"She can't rest like that. She's still dirty. She's not ready yet."
​

[ DOING IT ALL FOR US, LOVE ]​

 

[Foxpaw—]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ It's Bone and Salamander who greet the bedraggled kits first, and the mollies share an expression of solemnity. Bone asks them to take her back to where Dewdrop's body is and Foxy begins to tremble. She can't. She can't walk back there and make it to camp again. She won't be able to.

Rocky volunteers and her paws nearly give out beneath her in relief. She looks at her brother and nuzzles him quickly. She has nothing she can say to him, but she hopes the gesture is enough.

Foxy's eyes find Cicada. "You're more than welcome to stay with me here." The kindness in his voice causes her eyes to mist over again, and her throat clenches. Who will speak to them like that now that she's gone? She pads closer to Cicada and sits beside him, unable to meet his icechip gaze but grateful for the sympathy.

Their denmate approaches them, offering her apologies. Foxy looks at Sage meekly. "Thank you," she murmurs, because her mother had taught her to be polite, and because she does appreciate the condolences. Sage offers to help, but Foxy shakes her head mutely. It's a job for the older cats, she feels. She does not know why Rocky is putting himself through the effort of going and seeing her again.

Dizzy speaks up, and Foxy's heart aches as he tells the adults that Dewdrop isn't clean. "Maybe we can clean her fur when they bring her back," she tells Dizzy. She swallows. "She should... she should be clean." Amber eyes drop to her mismatched paws.​

✦ PENNED BY MARQUETTE.​

 

[FROGGY]

The trek back to camp seems like it takes an eternity.

Froggy does not speak, his voice hoarse from crying. His downcast eyes are puffy and bloodshot, his cheek fur stained with the remnants of tears and his nose crusted with dried mucous. Twigs and leaves cling to his matted pelt. The blood on his paws is quickly drying, and he cannot look at them without a wave of nausea crashing over him.

He looks a mess, but he does not have the energy to care.

As the camp comes into view, Froggy nearly sobs in relief. His aching legs pick up the pace, pushing his way through the entrance and nearly collapsing on the other side. Eyes turn onto him, but he cannot return their gaze. There's a moment of deafening silence before Foxy breaks it. Mottled ears are flat against his skull as his older sister tries to explain what happened. She chokes up, unable to say it, and Froggy leans his trembling flank against hers in a silent gesture of comfort.

Bone asks them to take her to Dewdrop, and Froggy grits his teeth against the fresh tears forming in his eyes. He couldn't- he couldn't do it again. To his relief, Salamander and Cicada reassure them that they won't have to. Rocky offers his assistance, and Froggy stares at him with a pleading expression. Please, don't go back out there. He didn't want to lose Rocky to that beast. He wanted- needed them to huddle within the safety of the camp where the beast couldn't claim them.

Sage comes to offer her condolences, but Froggy could only look at her blankly. Sorry doesn't bring his mother back, so why does she insist on apologizing? He should thank her like his mother taught him to do, like Foxy does, but he's tired. He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He just wants to curl up in his nest and sleep.

Dizzy tells the adults that Dewdrop isn't clean. She should be clean, like his siblings say. Dewdrop doesn't deserve to be buried with blood and mud caking her fur. But the thought of cleaning her himself... His legs nearly buckle beneath him, and with a shaky breath, Froggy glances at his siblings with misty eyes. "'m tired." It's the most that he could manage.

Ducking his head, Froggy staggers towards the nursery, his tail dragging through the dirt.​

 

[Leafshade]

SO YOUNG, YET SO BROKEN​

---

Within the shadows of camp, a slim tom was curled up, attempting to get some semblance of sleep. His nights had been plagued with nightmares since the great battle, the dead bodies of allies and enemies alike, the empty hollow stares of the cats of the stars who seemed to be staring down at him in threatening judgment.

His pelt was twitching as yet another nightmare was beginning to form, but the scent of something rancid and metallic would jolt him awake. Death, it was a smell he had come to hate. His father had chastised him when he had returned home for appearing so remorseful, so weak. But the scolding didn't make the haunting memories melt away. Leaf would lift his head with a snap, steely blue gaze darting around camp until it landed on the grief-shrouded forms of kittens.

Dewdrops kittens...

The memory of their last interaction flashed within his mind and he physically flinched. 'Or would you rather your precious kittens starve for the sake of being nice.' His own words snapped back at him and he had to hard swallow the lump of regret that had formed in his throat.

Without him really thinking about what he was doing, the siamese mix found himself rising to his paws and making his way over to the growing group around the disheveled kits. But when he was just a tail length away, he hesitated. Would they even accept his help? After how he had spoken to their now dead mother the last time? Bile rose in his throat at the thought of the older cats snapping at him, chasing him away as he deserved to be. So instead of going to the group, the lanky tom would change direction and head out into the marshland. Even if he couldn't openly help, he would do something.

When the group returned with Dewdrop's body, they would find a small pile of freshly picked flowers near the entrance to decorate her body with, a freshly dug grave, and a stony silent Leaf, licking sore and bleeding paws that seemed uncharacteristically caked in mud and dirt, back in hiding within the camp shadows. ​