sensitive topics COME ON DOWN 𓆩♡𓆪 TATTEREDLIGHT'S VIGIL

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.

OOC. optional tag for @Fireflyglow
 

The strangest job a medicine cat had to Figfeather was not their secretive ways or their deep rooted connection with StarClan; it was how they near never failed to make the aftermath of death look… peaceful.

Tatteredlight, even with his wounds dressed in cobwebs and crimson staining patches of white fur, looked comfortable. She could almost envision him as just laying there, sunning himself on what should’ve been a peaceful Green-leaf day. Her heart trembles as she hobbles over.

Dawnglare mews that the warrior is likely already safe and sound in StarClan. Figfeather knows so too, but still, it brings little relief to the grief that swelled in her heart. Another warrior- a den-mate, a clan-mate, stolen too soon.

A solemn look is given to both medicine cats, ”He looks… better. Peaceful.” A strange compliment to their work, but mostly gratitude for their service. It was nice to look at Tatteredlight again one last time as he was in life, as close at they could get, anyways.

Figfeather presses her nose into the fallen tom’s plush, white fur. He smelled less of blood and death and more of lavender now. She licks one of his ears as she murmurs to him, ”You’ll be missed.”

Another star would light the sky tonight.
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Lead Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Sire to Sangriapaw & Coffeepaw
    » Mentoring Daisypaw
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and to aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

He was growing sick of the scent of lavender. It had cloyed up his throat ever since his mother and father had died, he thought- it reminded him of those cold bodies, sewn up in the snow and lowered into the frost. Tatteredlight lay before the Clan who he had protected... the Clan that had failed him- still and peaceful looking. Even the most violent of deaths were dressed with flowers- even Daisyflight's, with nothing to show, had been crowned with herbs to remind them of death.

The twitch of breath, there was none of it... and Twitchbolt himself jittered uncontrollable still. The sight of a body snapped his eyes open, shut, open, shut. Spasms of the muscles- apology wrestled beneath his skin, a million things he could say. Figfeather, fearless as always... she strode forward, pressed a nose of gratitude into Tatteredlight's shoulder. Twitchbolt softly brushed against her as he walked past, and gazed forlorn upon the ever-frozen form of Tatteredlight, whose spirit now danced alongside the stars. Blazestar, Daisyflight... even Tidespin and Ravencall... they would greet their Clanmate with purrs, tonight.

"You still had so much to give..." Twitchbolt spoke quietly. It had not been long since he had joined... that lost potential stung the most. "And so much you gave. Thank you, Tatteredlight." Gently, he lowered a trembling head to press a pink nose against the dead tom's shoulder. More touch than they'd shared in life. It was a shame.

Thinking of it... his jaw tightened, un-tightened. Grief sickened him to his corse, for someone lost, and for a shadowed future.
penned by pin ✧