FADED &. tending grave

[SPLINTERPAW.]

SHOULDA TAKEN A BREAK, NOT AN OXFORD COMMA​

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they haven't come here really since they became old enough to leave camp– when they officially became a paw. they know they should have visited more often but for some reason, they feel I'd they do that they will fully feel the fact that he's disappointed in them. he was a legacy. everyone knew who he was, and everyone wanted... to be more like him. and what did they have to show for it? nothing. they're not really good at this. they're no legacy. they're just an angry kid, skating through life and trying so hard to grasp onto the reality that not everything will go their way.

"hey, mom."

their voice has always been softer, but it's quiet, too. they place a rock they found out in the tunnels down at rattleheart's grave, tilting their head as they fluffed it up. it needed to be tended properly. it's... they swallow thickly before laying their head down, closing their eyes to try and feel closer to her.

"it's been a while. I'm sorry. I still don't... know who I'm supposed to be so i... I'm trying to... I'm lost. I feel lost. I wish you were here."

a solid paw prints in the snow that sits on the grave– an indication that they were here. they only perk their sensitive ears up at the sound of something near by, the scent of whatever, or whoever, it was coming soon afterwards.

"...hi."

they can't bring themself to be angry at anyone in a place like this.

// anyone is welcome to be the cat they're talking to

​

 

[Silkpaw]

Silkpaw hadn't expected to stumble upon anyone else out here, least of all Splinterpaw. She had come to the burial grounds out of habit more than necessity, her keen eye searching for moss that she knows grows nearby. Yet, the soft sound of their voice catches her attention like fur snagging on brambles. She pads closer slowly as the scene comes into view. She sees Splinterpaw, their frame hunched over Rattleheart's grave with a vulnerability in their posture that the she-cat isn't used to seeing in the older apprentice. Grief clings to the air, enough so that she hesitates for a moment before she speaks. "Splinterpaw." Her voice is gentle, lacking the usual sing-song lilt it so often carried. She stops a respectful distance away, her pale fur fluffing out against the cold. "I didn't mean to intrude." Sapphire gaze flicks to the grave and the small, carefully placed rock atop it. "That's a nice touch," She mews softly as her fluffy tail curls neatly around her paws.
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[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ While Splinterpaw may not often grace the graveyard with their presence, Scorchstar is a frequent visitor. The crimson-clad queen sweeps in nearly every day, either to lie gifts at the sites of her loved ones, or to tidy up the most unruly graves. (Tigerfrost's ranks amongst the oldest now, she thinks mournfully; it has been close to two years now that he's lain cold beneath the dirt.) Today, however, she plans only to scan through the graves and ensure that their moonstones are still there, that they have not been buried beneath snow or swept away with the wind. When golden eyes fall upon her nibling, however, the leader pauses. Splinterpaw hunches near their mother's grave, speaking with Silkpaw. Scorchstar only catches the tail end of their conversation, a simple hi greeted by a compliment from the younger apprentice.

"You put that there?" She questions, gesturing with her chin toward the stone placed upon Rattleheart's resting place. Such reverence is a good sign in someone so young—to remember the dead, to continue delivering them gifts—and it brings a small smile to the leader's muzzle. "It is fitting for a tunneler. She would love it." The black and white feline is likely curled up in StarClan now, paws tucked carefully over the edge of a cloud, smiling down at her kit's kind gesture.

OF THE FOLKLORE AND THE FABLES ☽♰☾ SHE’S THE TALLEST TALE OF ALL

• ooc: —
• 
• SCORCHSTAR ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ she/they, leader of windclan, tunneler
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stern and serious, ferociously protective of her clanmates.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & splinterpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[PINKSHINE]

She didn't think too much about Rattleheart's death when it happened. She's pretty sure she'd done that on purpose...

Pinkshine never meant to eavesdrop. She'd just come a few steps ahead of Scorchstar, and a place like this was naturally quiet no matter how many Pinkshine's were around. Her ears prick at their voice, speaking softly to the cats buried beneath them. Moons ago, she wouldn't have thought she was good enough at being sad to really know what to say... but today, holding her mama's smile close to her, she feels like she understands a little more...

Pinkshine doesn't bother to keep the distance Scorchstar or Silkpaw do. She's quiet for a moment as the others speak, padding closer... Any friend likes closeness, don't they? Any WindClanner was a friend. Her pelt brushes the apprentice's as she sits beside them, her eyes cast to Rattleheart's grave.

" She's still here, Splinty. " She thinks about Brightshine; what she'd told her... And her mama was alive and well, even if she was gone... Her mama had the chance to say all of those things, even if a lot of mama's didn't... They all meant it, though. They all wanted to say it. " She's far away now, and um... it might take a little while, but... " she purses her lips. She's sure if she could explain it better, Pinkshine would be in a different place, too. " You'll find them... Or they might find you, I dunno. " Her eyes shift to the stone, and to the print of their paw in the ground. " It's pretty, " she agrees.​