camp IN THE MIRROR ♡ vigil

[DAWNGLARE]

Rest for the soul. No more, no less.

A tragedy befallen. Perhaps, perhaps... In this time, what was there to truly feel? The clearing swells with certain sentiments, both old and new. The lingering distaste. Fresh feelings of loneliness. For one like the cursed, it is something unimaginable, Dawnglare may only presume. He knows at least, the strangeness. Someone being there, and then so suddenly, gone. What was there to say? What was there to do, but plead, no matter the truth, and no matter how well you knew it.

Their bodies were lain; fur bunched– once bloody, but now left was only the residue. Blood-stained moss lay discarded, somewhere else; some of the last lingerings of touch against their bodies, already cold. Perhaps before, when the winter hadn't been so biting, when the thrill of the battle still rushed through the Morningpaw's veins, it had been easier to feel the warmth fade. Perhaps there was so much more there, to begin with (in more than one way; maybe, maybe). For them, it was not the same. It was over when they were found. The chill claimed them, quickly. And left was only cold, cold.

Two sprigs of lavender have been left to the walking bags of bone. One recently released, and another, recently homed. With the cleaning said and done, he himself, steps back. His eyes are dull, impassively hooded, but a small, small part of him reaches out. Soft humming in his throat. He does not sing prayers for them. Who knew if it'd be really deserved.

[ vigil for @TWITCHPAW's parents (pretend it isnt so late), @Earthsoul & @MORNINGBIRD may mask the scent of death ]​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Figpaw had heard all the negative tales, some true and some simply rumored, about the poor parenting these two cats had. It was hard to form an opinion, a proper and educated one, as Figpaw was a feline who was still getting parented by not only her mother but also her mentor, naturally. It does make her mouth bitter, thinking of whatever hardships they intentionally or unintentionally put Twitchpaw through.

Still, Figpaw does her best to honor them as warriors in their death… She was not StarClan, she cannot tell if their sins outweigh their good deeds in life. It was not up to her to judge them, and Figpaw knows she does not have the wisdom too.

As customary she approaches the two fallen warriors to say goodbye. She gives both of them a lick on either their forehead or a tuft of fur on their cheek, an act of sharing tongues one last time. With that she departs so that their friends and kin, such as Twitchpaw, may visit and grieve. ​

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Spoiler: TAGS ★ 01/05

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· FIGPAW, AMAB — she / her
╰ ‣ 9 moons .
╰ ‣ skyclan apprentice . believes in starclan, doesn't fully understand

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like pine nettles & sap, status — 100%
╰ ‣ A red tabby she-cat with orange eyes. Mangled right hind leg.

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ENFP-A ❝ CAMPAIGNER❞ , Gryfindor, Lawful Good
╰ ‣ Excitable, generous, caring, quick-to-act, daft, naive
╰ ‣ finds relative ease relating to others . kind-hearted, will show mercy

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC X DAISYFLIGHT, sister to Greenpaw, Violetpaw, Snowpaw & Butterflypaw
╰ ‣ Pansexual . mistakes admiration for romantic feelings
╰ ‣ Apprentice to Tallulahwing
╰ ‣ poor fighter . okay hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . will flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[Earthsoul]

After all his moons of life, Earthsoul assumed loss would be easier to handle.

The old tom was no stranger to death, and he knew it always came in two forms: all too slowly, or all too quickly. He’d seen cats wasting away over moons from disease, each day a step forwards towards the grave while they struggle in vain to fight the invisible opponent. on the other hand, death could wrap its claws around someone’s soul in seconds. It was heartbreaking in its own right - exchanging pleasantries with a fellow loner one day and finding out they’d been struck by a monster the next. As he stared at the bodies before him, the moggy mulled the morbid question in his mind. What was worse, having to say goodbye multiple times, or not getting the chance at all?

Earthsoul never cared for Twitchpaw’s parents. Too many times the talkative tom had held his tongue as the apprentice was belittled by his progenitors, never giving the cautious cat the recognition he deserved for the leaps and bounds he’d made over his short life. But the weathered cat would’ve wished to see them reform their ways, not slaughtered by the sword of fate.

Earthsoul searched desperately for some string of words that would make everything all right and alleviate the grief, but age had also taught him that no such thing existed. So, silently, the elder would lay the lavender across the two cats, normally energetic eyes ladened with shadow.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

He listens numbly from behind his mentor as the Elders lay lavender across the dead, eyes shut in a dramatic attempt to not look at the blurry forms of gutted bodies. Figpaw shares tongues with the two felines, Twitchpaw's parents, before dipping back to let those close to the cats share tongues as well. His tail flicks behind him, the smell of mint calming him. Noticeably, his tail twitches in four- one, two, three, four. Rest.

You asked him to carry his own parents dead bodies. She whispers to him, his ears shrinking back against his head. "I know," He replies softly, barely audible; shame igniting his fur. Rough licks against his chest to smooth the fluffy fur there, a half-hearted attempt to soothe himself. He says no words, doesn't dare look for his friend. Would he do the same, if Blazestar died and lost his last life? Would he carry him to his grave himself, caked in his father's blood?

Of course I would, He's quick to come to terms with that thought. After all, his father deserved that much. Would Howlpaw do the same? Would she be able to carry their father's large body on her back, alongside him? He instinctively listens out for his little sister's voice, hoping she'd come and say her last words to the deceased and then come sit by him. Patience, patience. He could give his condolences to Twitchpaw another time.​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

What he should and shouldn't be- it was a nagging thought. Had been since they'd come back. Whether he should be sad, shouldn't be sad- because they were not the most affectionate people. They filled him with ugly green jealousy that spat out of his mouth like venom and shot his eyes wide, never helped him through the nightmares that had given him so many sleepless nights as a kit, shown only one ounce of pride in their entire lives, and had refused to remember his name until the day they had died. Why should he grieve them? He should be- should be glad they were gone. He'd never have to think about them again. Never have to be sad they barely looked at him- never have to bring them lunch again. Never again would he pretend to be interested in what his father was rambling on about or be roped into listening to a dreamily-told story his mother was recounting that barely had a structure.

They did so many things worth hating. Why did he still love them? He didn't want to. He'd give anything to hate them right now.

He'd finally stopped crying, at least- though he did not think if anyone came up to him he'd be able to say anything to them. Was he supposed to speak? Supposed to- talk of how much he'd miss them? Lie, or tell the truth? Saying he missed them might be both.

Neither of them would ever look at him again. Not once, not even for a moment. Not for not long enough. They'd never get to call him the complete wrong name. Or maybe they'd have learned his warrior name- maybe they'd finally have seen him after he had yelled at them. They had gone out hunting for themselves, at least... so they'd taken one lesson from his speech. Catch your own fucking food.

Eyes that swam with something akin to gratitude and sorrow at once swept to Figpaw as she said her wordless goodbye- to Earthsoul, as he sat sentinel. To Fireflypaw, whose help had been valued. But he could hardly offer them a thought more than that, overcome with the weight of complete aloneness, and no hope of ever reconnecting. Had he even wanted that?

Whatever the answer was, he hoped they had gone to the stars, that they would... that they might bother to watch over him. They'd offer each other most of their attention, he would guess... but where it was not what he had wanted from them in life, a sparing glance might be good enough in death.​

penned by pin ✧​