camp HOMAGE 𓆩♡𓆪 VIGIL

[DAWNGLARE]

Long overdue, this certainly was.

Tallulahwing’s body has not been in his den for some time; mauve ribbon striped from her and deposited where it ought to be. Sheepcurl’s corpse has not been in his den for some time, caressed in lavender and brought where she may be burried amongst her other fallen friends. It is as Mountainheart’s form grows cold, and the lavender lain across him no longer seems so alien, that he acknowledges that something should be said.

How fast does sickness leave a body? This, he does not know, but he would think: not fast enough. He is reluctant to bring him forward for that reason. And which was more selfish? He thinks it is impossible to know. A decision is forced upon himself as night falls. With it comes darkness, and the subtleness of dull, melancholic air is gone when fireflies flicker to life, and the bustle of cats is hushed into naught but the quiet droning of bugs. Perhaps they too, can feel what is wrong within the forest; and they chirp their mourning as Dawnglare drags a petaled corpse into the clearing alongside his apprentice.

" We mourn Mountainheart, " he says. Some of them more than others. But perhaps only for Sweetybee’s sadness does his heart twist much at all. " And... Sheepcurl. " he nearly slips on her name, muttering one she has long ago forgone. And then… " Tallulahwing. "

A flare of breath. Whiskers twitch, discontentedly. He is otherwise at a loss for what is to be done, and what is to be said, save for the pained pinch of his brows and frown that bores into the dirt. With the other bodies that lay curled up in his den, it may even be a risk to step outside for such a thing. No, he could not leave them for long. " This sickness has taken more than it ever should have. " And he feels a twinge of something, with that acknowledgement. His ruff is high alight his spine, bristling in the worry that perhaps, nothing may ever be done.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 8.22.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: optional tag for help with Mountainheart; @Fireflypaw

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 55 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[DOGBITE]

Guilt, irrational and relentless, churned within him like a maelstrom, gnawing at the core of his being. Drawing closer, Dog could practically feel the wall of emotions eating away at his insides. Mountainheart, the tom he had sought help for, had died not long after. This breathed a fresh wave of grief into his chest.

Bowing his head a moment a small whisp of thoughts bubbled at his conscious. I've never been good with these things. It wasn't as though they were buddies or even acquaintances, yet the memory of that fading existence was etched indelibly into the recesses of his psyche.

Bearing witness to a sturdy cat succumbing so swiftly, dissolving into nothingness in the blink of an eye, disturbed Dog to no end. The fork in his mental landscape appeared at the junction of genuine sorrow and an unreasonably imposed culpability. Luck had graced him, preventing Dog from falling victim to the same ailment. Yet the brutal reality of how easily he could've been the one lying cold on the ground, ravaged by the same affliction, carved deep furrows of despair into the orange and white cat's face.

One blue eye gazed over the lifeless forms, a heaviness settling within him. Amidst this morbid tableau, the distinctive sound of Dawnglare's meow cut through the air, an auditory anchor to the present moment. Slowly, he took a seat and listened on respectfully to the Medicine Cat. Intentionally he kept a polite distance aiming to leave plenty of room for the bereaved.​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

To these cats, Twitchbolt was no apprentice, no family. But he mourned them all the same, leaving distance for others to close in, but still ensuring he was there. Paws rooted themselves to the ground, his head bowed low. Mountainheart had been a strong, reliable warrior; someone to rely on, someone to be sought in the face of danger. That someone so strong could be stolen away by this illness in an instant... it was unfathomable, and thus even more terrifying.

Sheepcurl, a Clan staple, a lead warrior who had served alongside his mentor. Amber-struck eyes searched for Greeneyes for a moment, knowing that the ginger-and-white tom had faced yet another awful loss. And Twitchbolt himself had always seen Sheepcurl as a pillar. When he had returned to SkyClan from the shelter without her, the ground had swum beneath him in the wake of that grief. A crevice of unknowing that had become momentarily fixed. What cruel force had returned her, only to take her again?

And Tallulahwing. Though every daylight warrior on that mission as a soul Twitchbolt felt indebted to, Tallulahwing had been the one to free him specifically. Never mind the comment that had spurred a disagreement between him and Quillstrike- that was no-one's stupid fault but his own. She'd been another face that he had never thought could die. He remembered alongside Dawnglare's words how cold she had looked when she had been buried, how unnaturally still she had been. Of course, of course- because she was dead. And he hated that, when remembering her, his mind always trailed back to the sight of her body.

For them, his heart thumped and strained. Even though Mountainheart alone lay before them, when he closed his eyes he could just-about see three spangled spirits. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

It was as if Sheepcurl had risen from the dead and fallen for a second time; SkyClan had just gotten her back only to lose her again. Mountainheart, a strong warrior, father to Sweetybee laid nearby. Both warriors she had thought would be around for a long, long time. Yet naturally when she looks at the three fallen her eyes never fail to find Tallulahwing. The tri-color she-cat now laying still and lifeless, Figfeather hates seeing her like this… It was like she was a whole different cat, not the strong and lively mentor she had known and loved. How could the red tabby have guessed their previous conversation, their previous hunting session, would have ben their last? The red tabby strides forward to at last visit with Tallulahwing. Never before had she been able to sit beside her body. Amber eyes drown in sorrow as she leans forward and begins to carefully groom her fur. She knows she should say something- converse with Tallulahwing one last time, but she can’t find the words nor strength.

 

[Hazelbeam]

Cats died out here.
It was something she hadn't expected, but something she had known about to some degree despite her naive nature. It was a little jarring to see cats she had met briefly in passing be so motionless and devoid of life before her. Hazel wasn't foolish, she knew living outside was dangerous but cats did it anyways for the sense of freedom that had drawn her here to begin with - the risks were there and she wondered if the three here felt it worth it. Had they enjoyed their lives to the last second, did they regret joining SkyClan? She knew one of them was a daylight warrior like her and her mind drifted to her two-leg, wondering what she would think if Hazel never came home one day. It was a somber feeling, but she found it did not sway her desire to be here. While she didn't know these cats that well, not yet, she would mourn them all the same.
White paws carried her forward, for once she was glad her hat was already hanging on the tree branch she left it because she felt it might have been disrespectful to not show her face when she dipped her nose down to each in turn in a quiet nod of farewell.
"I hope this StarClan is real, I hope you don't hurt anymore there and there are lots of nice, plump squirrels."
The daylight warrior stands back up stiffly, suddenly, frowns tight before turning to trot away briskly once she had paid her respects. She wanted to go out now, do something, anything, because the reminder of mortality was upsetting.
​

 

[Sweetybee]

Sweetybee's tears had run dry, unable to produce anymore he eyes were sunken and red from crying and she looked upon Mountainheart's body with a hollow, mournful look. He's gone. He looks as if in peaceful slumber, wreathed in lavender. She could almost fool herself into thinking he was asleep, but she knows better than to torture herself like that.

She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breathes to keep herself together. Her eyes were sore from crying and she had just gotten them dry, she was trying not to irritate them any more than they already were. She can't help but wonder how her siblings are doing. She wished she had their support more than ever in this moment, but she was alone.

She is all alone now.

She wants to crawl into a hole and pretend none of this ever happened. Wishes she had someone to go to for support. She wishes her family weren't as splintered as it was.

On top of it all, she knows she has to be strong. It's what Mountainheart would say. But how can she be strong when she feels so dead inside?​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— another day, another sunrise, another corpse garlanded in lavender that masks the stench of death, the smell of illness that no sane cat dares risk grooming from the pelts of the dead. tallulahwing, the first to fall, the one who had brought the news that this sickness was fatal. then sheepcurl, a bright star crushed too soon, gone too early—far too many cats that are far too young, younger than her even, ready to join the oldest corpses beneath the pine-coated ground. now it's mountainheart who slumps, growing colder every heartbeat, dragged into the clearing by dawnglare and fireflypaw—not nearly so young, but a life still wasted, one who left behind the living to sob and mourn. it's hard, hard to look at, hard to keep that determined flame in her chest alive when the cold weight of sickness drags every cat down.

dawnglare's mutterings seem almost sympathetic, for once, his crimson face contorted in a frown that seems nearly exaggerated, his thick cinnamon fur bristling where it sprouts along his loathsome back. still she dips her head in grief for the cats she never got to really know, hanging back somewhat to leave room for those who had the privilege to know mountainheart. other cats sit, their jaws weighted shut by the heaviness of this plague, a cinnamon-and-white tom maintaining a courteous distance as she does. twitchbolt, too, has his head bowed in sorrow—it almost frightens her to see the young lead warrior, a nervous but steadfast presence, reduced to silence alongside his clanmates by the weight of tragedy.

figfeather, too, grieves her own mentor; bobbie cannot imagine how it feels, remembering how her shriek had split the sky at the news of tallulahwing's death. even one of their newest daylight warriors steps forth to offer a farewell, making bobbie's sage eyes regard hazel with fresh approval despite the anxiety and sorrow rising cold in her veins as the three-toned shecat trots away.

but it's sweetybee, of course, who seems to be faring the worst; the calico daylight warrior's eyes are hollow and reddened from tears, and the lilac tabby could never blame her for it. not when mountainheart laid before them, wreathed in the smell of lavender and death; so far from the sunny day when he'd watched a deer, on the same patrol as her. a pause and bobbie pads towards sweetybee, hesitant, not wanting to impose on her private grief—still the warrior dips her head, aiming to press her shoulder gently to the other cat's in comfort as she murmurs, "i'm so sorry."

NO LOVE, HOWEVER BRIEF (✿) 𝑰𝑺 𝑾𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫

• ooc: ——
  
• nothing here, have a nice day :-)
• 
  — bobbie
  — she/her ; warrior of skyclan ; 40 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — chibi by its_oliverr
  — penned by dejavu
  

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[SLATE]

It's strange to look upon the corpses of clanmates. It's much easier to view the cold vessel of a cat that you don't even know, with whom you bear no attachment or memory. Although Slate wasn't particularly close with any of the fallen warriors, they had still been a part of SkyClan for far longer than he had been. He knew them, even if not well. And now they would never take another breath again.

At first, he had thought Talullahwing's case to be unique — even if sickness was spreading around, perhaps she had only succumbed to it because she lacked the strength to keep fighting. However, as this bodily infection reared its ugly head and swiftly took the lives of more warriors, it soon became apparent that this illness was quite aggressive. No amount of physical strength or skill could fend off this invisible opponent, and the herbs that Dawnglare and Fireflypaw desperately threw at their patients didn't seem to help.

How many more would be next? What about Cloverjaw and Orangeblossom? What if it took a life from Blazestar? What if he caught this mysterious sickness?

For a moment, as he settles his gaze onto Mountainheart's lifeless form — large, scar-littered, and dark-colored with wispy tufts — he sees himself. A sinking feeling weighs down in the lead warrior's gut, ears flicking back, solemn murmurs and grieving whimpers around him echoing faintly in his ears. Would this plague eventually pass, or would it not stop until it left every cat dead in its wake?​

 

[GREENEYES]

Greeneyes hardly has time to process the death of his mentor before another clanmate falls - a third to ascend to StarClan before he can mourn the first. Tallulahwing, Sheepcurl, and now Mountainheart have all fallen to sickness, leave the camp smelling like lavender to cover the chilling scent of death.

Greeneyes is silent as he stands among the crowd, his gaze lowered, shielded away from the sight of another lifeless form. He doesn't know if he can look at another fallen clanmate so soon - the glimpses he'd gotten of Sheepcurl are enough to invoke tears at the mere thought, and Greeneyes blinks them back as Dawnglare speaks.

Mountainheart is the one he'd been the least close to out of the three, he thinks, but still his heart sinks at the thought of the fallen elder - at the cries of his daughter, Sweetybee.

His heart twists as he remembers Figfeather's own sobs - loud and ear-splitting - at the news of Tallulahwing's death. Figfeather's mentor, Greeneyes remembers working beside her as an apprentice and mourns the loss too.

However, his heart breaks at the thought of Sheepcurl, his own mentor. How she'd asked for him, how he'd reassured her with unfulfilled promises. How short-lived her return was, only for sickness to claim her - to pull another important figure in his life to the stars to watch over him. She was supposed to stay here. Just like everyone else, Sheepcurl was supposed to stay.

He never got to say goodbye to Sheepcurl - only croaking denial in short stammers at her stilled form in the medicine den. A thank you only shared at his warrior ceremony - Greeneyes thinks he should've thanked her again, and again. He wouldn't be here without her guidance, wishes they could've shared more conversations in his warriorhood.

Tears sting at his eyes, and he sniffles, his gaze lifting enough to graze Mountainheart's cold form before lowering once again.

Bad things happen in threes, Greeneyes knows, but he fears the plague won't stop here, at the site of vigil for the trio. He fears the loss of more, of siblings and friends - a never-ending state of mourning entwined in verdant-hued endings.

With its unending killing streak, Greeneyes wonders how long it will be before he has to say goodbye to another; how long it will be until it reaches him - until he's at war with his namesake.
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