IT SLIPS THROUGH YOUR FINGERS [♦︎] prayers

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

The warrior allows a sigh to draw from her lungs. Her paws are planted in the SkyClan graveyard. At her paws stand two graves, one a memorial made of stone, crafted by the paws of her children, Daisyflight. It still pained the marmalade tabby to no end that she was not truly buried here, at home where she belonged… The only comfort she had was knowing that within SkyClan, it was no dishonor to die in a twoleg den. Only her mother had been wild, before she overlooked the clan she roamed the concrete jungle that was the twoleg place freely. All she can do is hope the twolegs had done her justice somewhere else. Then beside her, Snowpath. Fresh offerings of flowers and pretty stones settled on his grave. Moons had passed since his death but sometimes Figfeather swore just yesterday they were climbing trees together. Of course not far off at all was Tallulahwing, her grave still fresh and bearing some of the most ample offerings. Figfeather stares at the three graves. Her mind quiet. ’It’s so much colder without you guys here.’ Her innervoice whispers, a dull look is laid out on her face. ’I wonder if you know- will we be okay?’ “We”. The clans, but SkyClan most importantly of all. She wonders if with whatever powers they had if they could peer that far into the future, did they already know if this would end in tragedy? Rising to her paws she pins her chin to her chest and mutters a prayer, ”StarClan light our paths tonight.” ’Guide me, you three most of all.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

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[TWITCHBOLT]

Twitchbolt often found himself wandering to Daisyflight's grave- it was a source of comfort often to talk with his mentor, to sit by a grave he knew was empty but before a sky he knew she dwelled within. It seemed stupid to be surprised to face someone else at the grave of a beloved figure of the early Clan, especially one with swathes of kin. Her children had loved her deeply, and he'd always been a little envious of it- a terrible little wasp of a feeling that he'd shoved away at every responsibility. In truth, though... from that feeling had blossomed off emotions toward Daisyflight's children. He felt oddly close to them in an unspoken way- though perhaps he should speak it more often.

Last time Daisyflight had left to a place unseen, of course, she had not returned. He hoped Figfeather would not meet the same fate.

"I- I know she's proud of you," he murmured, wide eyes flickering up to sky. He couldn't pretend he knew Daisyflight better than her own daughter had- but it was a gut feeling that the calico stared down at them now, Snowtuft at her side, the kind eyes of Tallulahwing too casting pride like sunbeams upon her former apprentice. It was nice to imagine they could see it, but for once Twitchbolt was doubtless that something beyond sight was there.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[GREENEYES]

It’s been a little while since he’s visited the stone shrine he and his siblings had built for Daisyflight - since he’d visited Snowpath’s own grave beside hers. He hates to admit it; hates to admit he’d yet to visit Sheepcurl since her own burial too. But how can he bear to return to this place, when it seems like a new memorial has been placed every time he steps foot in SkyClan’s graveyard?

Still, Greeneyes feels a pull toward the place of mourning tonight, his final days before his departure dwindling down into something more fathomable, something more tangible in his worries. Frosted paws guide him there tonight, an expectation for the area to be empty - for only the stars above to hear what words he’ll speak - but his arrival proves otherwise. Marmalade-twisted fur stands before their mother’s memorial, tufts of brown and white beside her.

He cannot assume what his littermate is thinking, but wonders if the same worries he holds plague her own thoughts all the same - if she worries a shrine will soon be built beside Daisyflight’s in her place too. If she worries over the distance StarClan’s gaze can extend to; if the journey reaches outside their bounds, their safety.

Silently, he settles in beside Figfeather and Twitchbolt, ginger ears moving in the lead warrior’s namesake at his words. Their mother is proud of Figfeather, he says.

“She is,” Greeneyes breaks his silence to agree, a nod of his head following as he pulls his gaze away from sibling-gathered stones to look over at Figfeather.

The tom has always looked up to his littermate, has always thought of her as stronger than him - of course he would agree, because he is simply proud to be Figfeather’s brother. Still, he questions whether Daisyflight would be proud of him too. Curse and all, does his mother watch over him with the same smile he believes her to watch over his sisters with? Do Snowpath and Sheepcurl stand beside her to do the same? He doesn’t know. ​

 

[DUNY]

𓍢ִ໋ 𔓘𓉸𔓘⁺˖⸺ Duny is quite at home among graveyards. It isn't as macabre as it sounds; he suspects his upwalker keeps him close by to manage the rodents attracted by other upwalkers' gifts and memorials and the like. A place such as this —if quite a bit larger— is where he rests his head at night, and he wonders whether the cats of SkyClan were...inspired by upwalkers. Does RiverClan have a cemetery? WindClan? Whose paws marked the first grave?

Even the oldest among them may not know. In fact, Duny is quite certain they do not.

Humming idly to himself, he lowers a small bundle of flowers he...borrowed from his upwalkers' impressive collection. He's always careful to choose the buds which are more mature, not quite as fresh, but still a bright spot of color nonetheless. He listens to the trio all the while, though they speak very little, and nothing Duny would not expect. Cemeteries are places of ritual, of tradition— perhaps in their grief most of all, where what is spoken has been said before, but with no less sincerity.

"Would any of you care for a flower for your dear ones? My upwalker hardly notices when I, ah, reallocate one or seven stems."​

‧₊˚ OUT OF CHARACTER / / \ \ HERE'S TO THE FOOL, HERE'S TO THE THIEF 「 09.08.23 」

• —ooc:
• — DUNY (Dunyazad) / / 48 moons old / / uses masculine pronouns, but does not mind the use of neutral pronouns.
  — daylight warrior in training / / mouser for a private cemetery, and as such, is a fairly practiced hunter (of rodents).
  — queer like perusing fabric bolts / / single & a bit flirtatious, but incredibly unlikely to enter a romantic relationship.
  
  a slightly plump blue smoke/black chimera with a very distinct, mask-like facial marking. he is not especially tall; very little (if anything) about him is immediately intimidating, but at times his gravestone-moss eyes are a bit too incisive. it's easy to get the impression that he knows something you do not, and it's entirely to his benefit, though his demeanor is (nearly always) impeccably polite and cheerful.
  

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[APPLEFROST]

Apple Stem did not visit SkyClan's scattered graveyard very often. Not out of any disrespect or ignorance, but she found little comfort in surrounding herself in buried bodies. She much preferred the remember the fallen by gazing up at the sky at night. Washed away in lunar light, twinkling speckles winking across a midnight pelt. It was a much prettier sight than... this.

Perhaps because she had no kin of her own buried here like Figfeather and Greeneyes had was why she had been quick to dismiss the important of visiting. There were mothers, fathers, sister and brothers laid at rest.

"If StarClan's sight can see all the way out there for our Medicine Cat's, then their light will surely follow you all the way." The white-flicked she-cat gently reassured them. She is quiet in regards to Duny's offer, as it was not meant for her.​