- Jun 9, 2022
- 602
- 408
- 63
Another body soon to be buried beneath Her skin. Few besides him had the pleasure of seeing SkyClan's graveyard swell so... earnestly.
He does what he always has... Thinks its better for the soul, for a body not to be lain down so anguished as it had been as they died. Shut eyes makes it easier to sink your nose into your loved ones pelt and simply imagine they are sleeping well, dreaming of things so wonderous that the soft press of a skull is not enough to wake them. It's easier to recall fond things, rather than brutal, when blood is swept away with a tongue and cobweb. Perfection can never be achieved with a wound too deep or fur too - white... but he does the best that he can. Were the day ever to come that he is to join Her in such a way, would Fireflyglow do the very same for him? Discomfort wears at him then, for some reason or another... A lucky thing it is, that it was an impossibility above all else.
With Fireflyglow's help, Tatteredlight is lain in the center of camp and dressed with lavender. Both form and fuction; the scent of death is thoroughly swayed, and Tatteredlight can be seemingly at peace, perhaps having succumbed to the antics of kits or otherwise to be dappled in such a way... If only.
A mark between the eyes is brought floorward, tugged alongside drooping, blue hues and a pair of tufted ears. He does not have the anecdotes of splendor that others perhaps would, but with this, he marks safe passage. " I'm sure you're comfortable in StarClan, already, " he mews.
He does what he always has... Thinks its better for the soul, for a body not to be lain down so anguished as it had been as they died. Shut eyes makes it easier to sink your nose into your loved ones pelt and simply imagine they are sleeping well, dreaming of things so wonderous that the soft press of a skull is not enough to wake them. It's easier to recall fond things, rather than brutal, when blood is swept away with a tongue and cobweb. Perfection can never be achieved with a wound too deep or fur too - white... but he does the best that he can. Were the day ever to come that he is to join Her in such a way, would Fireflyglow do the very same for him? Discomfort wears at him then, for some reason or another... A lucky thing it is, that it was an impossibility above all else.
With Fireflyglow's help, Tatteredlight is lain in the center of camp and dressed with lavender. Both form and fuction; the scent of death is thoroughly swayed, and Tatteredlight can be seemingly at peace, perhaps having succumbed to the antics of kits or otherwise to be dappled in such a way... If only.
A mark between the eyes is brought floorward, tugged alongside drooping, blue hues and a pair of tufted ears. He does not have the anecdotes of splendor that others perhaps would, but with this, he marks safe passage. " I'm sure you're comfortable in StarClan, already, " he mews.
OOC. optional tag for @Fireflyglow