CRUEL AND UNUSUAL - lightning & oxbow's vigil

[RAVENSONG]

happens after this thread, this is backwritten
opt tags (no need to wait!) @Moonpaw @brookstorm //

With the wounded of the patrol having been tended to, Ravensong set his sights on what needed to be done for the Clan's fallen warriors. Grimly he thinks Moonpaw has been getting more experience preparing dead bodies than healing them. Mint is an overpowering scent. Ravensong does not find it to be particularly sweet or good-smelling, but it does its job well. He thinks it is a crime from the universe for a dead body to exist with such indignity that it requires herbs to overpower the stench of death that so quickly sets in.

Lightningstone and Oxbowpaw are treated with as much gentleness as Ravensong treats his living patients. As he teaches Moonpaw respectfully through the process, his eyes shift to Brookpaw too. He had invited the surviving member of the family to be close to her family as they were buried and honored. While she did not make any move, it seemed to Ravensong, to do anything more (he could not blame her, as the personal loss was tremendous), he did feel comforted in a way to have her nearby.

Now as the sun sets and night falls over the camp, bathing the father and daughter's pelts in moonlight, Ravensong begins the vigil, sitting close to the two bodies. "StarClan will welcome two brave cats into their ranks tonight." His lips feel dry. "Let us sit vigil for Lightningstone and Oxbowpaw, and share tongues with them on their last night."

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait. — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den. — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them" — openly suffers from chronic migraines — single, but "it's complicated"

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[Moonbeam]

Moonpaw didn't like the feeling of helplessness that had most recently surrounded her as she continued on the path that Ravensong was teaching her. She was meant to learn to heal, learn to help this happen less and less, but it seemed as though she was learning the aftermath of what happens when wounds aren't treated quickly enough or when they're so devastating that they're impossible to treat. It wasn't Ravensong's fault nor was it StarClan's, it was simply timing, the rogues that had come into the territory not caring about what is just or that the cats they were slaughtering had kin that cared for them and would miss them if they were gone. It was a bitter thought as she stiffly moved paws and helped to weave mint into the pelts of her fallen clanmates, one a warrior that she could have been a warrior alongside in a different life, the other one that she used to share a den with, lost to them before she was able to get her full name under the eyes of StarClan.

Frown etched itself onto Moonpaw's face as she did her work, trying her best not to think about the negatives so that they didn't overwhelm her as she listened to Ravensong's explanation of what to do and how to do it. Eyes glanced over to Brookpaw as soon as they were done and Moonpaw took a step back, offering the other with a small motion of her tail a spot beside her, a spot closest to her father and littermate so that she could share tongues with them once last time before they were buried and sent to StarClan for good.

I WISH PLANT LIFE ꕥ WOULD GROW ALL AROUND ME

• 
  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ACHES & PAINS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ KITTING
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
• 
  ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ speaks softly & often found humming
  ꕥ 9 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently being mentored by ravensong
  ꕥ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
  ꕥ peaceful powerplay allowed

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[iciclefang]

The air is redolent with the sharp tang of crushed and scattered mint leaves. The moon rises and silver light floods the camp, washing over Lightningstone and Oxbowpaw’s pelts. Iciclefang bows her head as Ravensong begins the vigil, anger surging through her, flushing from the tips of her ears to her paw pads. Rogues had stolen more from RiverClan. The sturdy gray warrior had always been there—his presence had been a constant from the first time she’d peeked face mottled face out of the nursery, and Oxbowpaw’s life had barely begun, cinnamon-furred and strong-legged like the mother she’d lost.

Blue eyes burn with rage and grief. They flick from where the bodies lay to where Brookpaw stands. She had lost everything, it seems to Iciclefang—her mother had been stolen by Twolegs, and the rest of her family had been slaughtered by rogues. Her heart clenches for the young gray she-cat. How much more did they all have to lose?

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 21 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Cicadapaw ; previously mentored n/a
  — riverclan lead warrior. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

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[Petalnose]

Loss was a fragile thing to encounter. Even for Petalnose. Vigils were last of ceremony with their clan, a last bonding. She remembered Cicadastar's, one that had brought sadness upon her. Sadness she didn't think she'd encounter again. Lightningstone was a respected warrior and Oxbowpaw was yet a youth still discovering the world. Both were taken so cruelly but both had breathed loyalty til their final breaths. Respect was earned. They were examples of unbreakable loyalty and community. They died serving them.

Petalnose settled nearby, leaving room for those whom were within closer relations. Quietly she bowed her head with shut eyes. May the stars take them tonight for they have proven worthy. The stars shall align their pelts and shine holy. For they earned it.

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[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

It was no different than the last time.

It is the same spiced smell of mint on their coats, delicately groomed and gingerly placed in the middle of camp.

They are still. Just as they had been when Snakeblink and his patrol had returned. Yet it still doesn't feel real. Oxbowpaw is an unfortunate, surprising loss, one so young and so close to warriorhood at the same time. She had nearly gotten to begin the most tangible part of her life's journey and already- a new star shines in the sky for her.

Lightningstone however, his loss is far more staggering to the blue and white deputy. He was a rugged man built alike his name sake. Strong and reactive and in some sort of paradoxical way, steady and sincere. He is slain like he is not more than a guide sent to chase his daughter to their resting place. Her eyes flick away from him as Ravensong speaks, offering what kind words his grief-tight throat can muster.

It doesn't get easier.

Part of her feels the weight of tears just begging for release.. but there is a rigidity in her muscles that won't permit it. She can't shed tears for them. Not like she had for Clayfur. It isn't for lack of care but... it feels wrong in a way she can barely pin down. Brookpaw sits there like a statue.. and she swears when she turns away she feels razor sharp greenery gouging into her back. Do you blame me, she asks, knowing her apprentice cannot answer what she refuses to say out loud.

She is scared of the answer.

"Don't lose sight of us," she murmurs, pressing her nose briefly to the silver fur near her former den-mate's ear. "We still need you... both of you." Even if it is not his claws in battle beside them, maybe his spirit might carry them forward unto victory, with Oxbowpaw's confident caterwauls from StarClan might encourage their aim to be truer.

I'll... I'll watch out for Brookpaw. I promise.

It was the least she could do now.

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CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS

FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY​

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[brookstorm]

Brookpaw had only watched as Ravensong and Moonpaw worked, their paws gentle as they pull tousled fur back into place and clean dirty, muddy claws back to their formerly pristine conditions. At first, she hadn't been sure on where she would fit in - should she weave mint into their pelts the same? Should she head out and start digging into their cold, frigid ground so that their bodies have a place to rest afterwards? Eventually she settled with staring, as if either medicine cat would do wrong by Lightningstone or Oxbowpaw. She doubts it; they're both clearly working hard to treat her father and sister like gems found in the rough. But every tear blinked away is another callous, unspoken snipe. You're doing it wrong, she didn't say, for she does not know what 'right' would look like, even to her.

Ravensong presents her family for one last moment and she stays still. Lightningstone once had said that he trusted very little - his loyalty and devotion were peppered about only to a spare few cats who earned it. It looks to be that not everyone shared that value. Tears drop from warriors' eyes - cats that've done little more than share a den with him mourn for him all the same. Her sister, to, is pitied just as much as she is cherished. Her future had been grand, once, but now she flickers in the stars with the rest of them.

Brookpaw takes Moonpaw's silent offer to sit closer to the bodies, but she says nothing. She leans down and presses her nose into the ruff of her father's neck, frowning at the chill it has now. Lichentail's words bring green eyes upwards for a few heartbeats before falling once again, still silent. She says nothing, not as other cats share tongues and stories. Nothing as they bring stiff and cold bodies to pre dug graves and lower them. Nothing as she slinks into her nest, later in the night, and sleeps something dreamless and exhausting all the same.
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[BEEFANG]

I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS THE MOONLIT SEA — The loss of Lightningstone and Oxbowpaw during a patrol was a heavy blow to Riverclan and Beepaw didn't know these two cats on a personal level but one had been her denmate while the other was a respectable warrior. The scent of mint having become a familiar scent that was always present during vigils and she finds her nose wrinkling in the slightest at the scent itself, her oriental ears laying flat against her skull as she glances in the direction of Moonpaw wondering how she felt. The path she had taken was one meant for healing but instead there was so much death and despair as of late due to those damned rogues, a sigh slips from parted jaws and her mismatched gaze focuses onto Brookpaw. She had lost all of her family and Bee could never imagine herself in such a position, the bicolored molly had already lost her father and the thought of losing her littermates and only surviving parent makes her insides twist.

She never wished to live in such a world where Cricketpaw and Cicadapaw are lost during battle or even Smokestar losing all of his lives, its frightening to think about how he's already lost two within a few moons or so apart. She chooses to think of something else than a world where her family falls one by one around her, she shuts her eyes, and dips her head in respect for the two deceased cats. A silent prayer that the world will be kinder to Brookpaw after all this loss that she has suffered.

THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME ✦ BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA

• 

• 
  ✦ shorthaired black smoke molly w/low white and mismatched eyes
  ✦ oftentimes comes off as untrusting of those around her, closed off, and not the easiest to engage in conversation with, she's not easy to befriend. all her opinions are IC only.
  ✦ 8 moons old; ages the 10th every month
  ✦ sexuality unknown; currently interested in no one
  ✦ currently being mentored by smokestar
  ✦ firstborn daughter of cicadastar and smokestar
  ✦ sister of cicadapaw and cricketpaw
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✦ peaceful powerplay allowed

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