camp LEAVES FROM THE VINE ᨒ braveheart's vigil

[GENTLESTORM]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ He feels as if he could cry an entire river if his eyes didn't hurt as much as they did and they weren't as dried up from it, a soft sniffle leaves him as he glances carefully over the rosette pelt of his nephew that looks like he's sleeping peacefully. A part of him wishes that were the case that his nephew would stir from his eternal slumber so that Gentlestorm could take him out to search for herbs alongside Hopepaw and he'd ask Braveheart if he had thought of any names for his unborn kittens but he can't ask this now, this is enough to break his heart and squeeze it terribly as he sits before the other as he carefully puts rosemary delicately into his pelt. "It should've been me..." He whispers bitterly under his breath being careful of how his large paws lace the death scent expelling herb onto the son of Batwing and Leopardtongue, "You should be here... instead, you were always meant to outlive me. You'd be the one at Hopepaw's side... decorating my pelt with rosemary... and speaking a prayer to send me off to Silverpelt..." A weak, saddened smile pulling at his lips though he tilts his helm to the sie remembering how Batwing had arrived from the journey sooner to meet his newborn kittens that his mate had delivered and how Gentlestorm arrived a little later to meet them. Bravekit, Hazekit, and Cardinalkit... Oh, how he remembered them as bright-eyed little kittens reenacting the journey bit by bit in their childhood games, they had managed to soothe the hurt that he had felt upon losing Little Wolf.

He feels as if this pain is a lot greater than that day that he had lost it and wishes there was some way in soothing it, the silver tom swallows dryly once more and a shaky breath slips from his jaws only to bring Hopepaw closer to him if she allows it. This is their shared pain and loss, he would make sure that she isn't suffering alone in this given that this is the first death on her paws as a medicine cat apprentice but it was unfortunately, out of their control and they weren't able to do much about it. It had been an ailment that he couldn't get to the bottom of and it had taken a blow to his herb storage, he presses his head to his niece's head in silent comfort "Remember... my little bird... we did our best." Gentlestorm rests his chin on her head still using a large limb to hold her in a silent embrace and lets his tongue rasp over her ears carefully making sure that he picked his next words wisely, "It's not your fault... it will never be your fault... this is one of the hard... painful realities... of being a medicine cat... the most bitter herb... that one can eat... you did your best." His tone serious as he says this, he wants her to know this and not blame herself for the death of her eldest brother.

"Another star is born... with the rest of our ancestors in Silverpelt." Gentlestorm begins solemnly to those that are gathered to celebrate Braveheart for the last time and to share tongues with him, he tries to blink away the sadness from his gaze but finds it to be impossible and he supposes that he'd rather be drowning in his own sorrow than swallowed up by the rage and hatred that he feels towards Riverclan right now. "Braveheart's sacrifice will never be forgotten and he's truly made a name for himself as an honorable warrior... that both of his parents, siblings, friends, and family can be proud of... May he only know good hunting and deserved rest... no pain of an... incurable ailment... in Starclan." He pauses for a heartbeat to take a deep breath not wanting to break into mournful sobbing once more and a sad chuckle slips from his maw as his eyes glance towards the skies, "May he streak the skies tonight... with his light... forevermore."

/ this is backwritten to 12/25 :']

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GENTLESTORMㅤBIOGRAPHYㅤ/ㅤTOYHOU.SE
✦ㅤagab male (he/it)ㅤ/ㅤbisexual demiromantic, widowed by little wolf
✦ㅤ63 moons oldㅤ/ㅤages realistically, every 27th of the month
✦ㅤmedicine cat of thunderclan for 12 moons
✦ㅤfalling snow x raging stormㅤ/ㅤuncle to hopepaw, coalpaw, cardinalpaw, & braveheart
✦ㅤmentoring hopepawㅤ/ㅤmentored by berryheart
✦ㅤpenned by BossTaurusㅤ/ㅤmessage bosstaurus on discord for plots!
✦ "speech", thoughts, & attacking ; uses brute strength, strategizes before every fight, will tear/maim an enemy, and will end fights
a large, longhaired, and scruffy blue sepia tom littered with several scars, tattered ears, blinded in an eye, and has a pair of earthy toned eyes w/low white

 

[HOPEPAW]

⊱⊰ Both her parents have been gone since the moment Hopepaw was born. All she'd had in her life are her siblings for kin, and she's clung tightly to them as she's grown older. She'd expected all of them to be there when she got her full name, and had expected Braveheart to be there when his kits were born. In the end, maybe being so much like his father (as Hopepaw had heard from plenty of clanmates) had been his final downfall. A snake eating its own tail, history doomed to repeat itself… a vicious cycle of parents who never meet their children. Braveheart was always so bright, so brave, so full of life. He isn't supposed to be lying here cold and stiff, lifeless in the most unimaginable way. He hadn't even gotten the mercy of a quick death, like being trampled by a monster on the thunderpath. Instead, he died over the course of weeks, slowly suffering more and more while Hopepaw couldn't do anything to fix it, or even ease his suffering.

In the end, she knows it isn't her fault that her brother is dead. She couldn't have done anything that Gentlestorm hadn't already tried. But why did her first lost patient have to be her own kin? It just isn't fair—but as Hopepaw is learning, life in ThunderClan rarely is.

She sits silent at Gentlestorm's side, arranging and rearranging nice-smelling herbs in her brother's rosetted pelt. Covering the scent of death that still clings to him, cloaks him in its rot. The girl wishes there were stronger herbs for it (or, maybe, just stronger herbs to save his life in the first place). Her uncle's words are not meant for her as he murmurs that it should be him lying there instead of Braveheart, whispers all his regrets and his hopes for the tom's life. Hope. Her namesake sounds silly now, something to raise one's spirits and make them optimistic before stone-cold reality comes crashing down upon them. She struggles beneath its weight now, and is relieved by the large paw that crosses over her back to draw her closer to the plush pelt of the medicine cat. She turns her face into his fur, just as she'd done when he lay dying on his den floor, and is grateful for his comfort.

Remember... my little bird... we did our best. Hopepaw should not blame herself, he says, because clanmates dying under her care will never be her fault. It makes sense to the girl—if she takes every death into herself, lets the guilt build, then she will choke out anything that may yet grow within. She cannot carry all the guilt. But she can certainly carry her own grief, and leaning on Gentlestorm makes that task just a bit easier. The gentle touch of a tongue across her ears reminds her of Roeflame, and she shuts her eyes, letting herself linger in the comfort that the tom offers. She can't delude herself into believing he'll be here forever, but for as long as he lives, she'll love him. "Thank you," she croaks through a throat dry as summer-cracked dirt. "It isn't your fault, either."

Cooper eyes blink open once more as her uncle begins speaking to the clan as a whole, beginning the ceremony of death for Braveheart. When he is finished speaking, Hopepaw tips her head back to look up at the sky, and murmurs a prayer of her own. "Braveheart… I hope StarClan is deserving of you. I hope mom and dad were up there to say hi when you got there. I hope you all know how much I… we… love you." Her eyes shine with tears, but the girl sniffs only once in an attempt to keep them from falling. She needs to stay strong for her clan, doesn't she? No matter what grief she faces, Hopepaw needs to be there for all of them if they need her support.

an ancient spirit’s song 【❖】 will heal our wounds

• ooc: —
• 
• 
  HOPEPAW ❯❯ she/her, thunderclan medicine cat apprentice
  
  ⊱ skinny, thick-furred lilac molly with deep copper eyes. soft-spoken and a bit of a grouch.
  ⊱ daughter of batwing and leopardtongue ; adopted by roeflame
  ⊱ mentored by gentlestorm
  ⊱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ; does not typically like physical contact from anyone besides her family
  ⊱ penned by foxlore

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[ROEFLAME .]

-ˋˏ ༻ ☀ ༺ ˎˊ-

The sight of the young warriors all-too-still body is a haunting sight, despite the queens efforts to adorn his pelt in what bits of lavender and mint that they could. Under the moon, their fallen clanmate is cast in a cold silver hue, draining the color from his rigid pelt. It makes Roeflame's heart twist, seeing one of Batwing and Leopardtongues eldest's kits like this- even more so when the she-cat see's just how heavy Bravehearts death was hitting Hopepaw and Coalpaw.

The deputy stays close as close as she can to her adoptive daughters side, fighting the maternal urge to sweep the medicine cat apprentice close to her and shield her from the sight. It's an illogical instinct- her rationality knows, when their very existence was a near constant fight against death, there was no shielding away from it; no hiding.

Beside's, it's not her that can provide Hopepaw with what she needs right now, not when she and Gentlestorm bask in a shared agony that Roeflame couldn't. As the mountainous healer speaks, Roeflame keeps her head bowed slightly, the frown on her lips deep and somber. "StarClan has gained a fine warrior tonight, but ThunderClan will feel this loss for moons to come." The rosetted molly murmurs, her voice heavy. "You will be so dearly missed, Braveheart."

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── I GOT A POCKET ⋅✴⋅ A POCKET FULL OF SUNSHINE ──┐‎

• 

• 
  ROEFLAME ✩ she/her, Deputy of Thunderclan, twenty-seven moons.
  ⭃ petite cinnamon silver ticked tabby with murky green eyes & a small scar over her left eye.
  ⭃ mate to Burnstorm ☀ mentor to Dovepaw & Dwindlingpaw
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ☀ underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[BEETLEBURN]

BEETLEPAW

THE WILL OF FIRE WILL BURN

Braveheart was, by extension, a kind of brother. He hadn't spent much time with him, too busy being locked behind his own skull to think about others, until it was.. well, too late. Braveheart, eldest sibling to his siblings, Coalpaw and Hopepaw. Regardless if his mother birthed them or not, they were his siblings, and nothing was going to change that. Not this, not Roeflame or Burnstorm renouncing them. Never.

He's quiet as he approaches the vigil, eyes downturned towards the moonlit dirt beneath him, moving to stand just off of Hopepaw's flank. A blank expression reaches that of Braveheart, the eldest of Batwing and Leopardtongue- of which he was told to respect their names both throughout his life.

And for good reason.

He swallows lightly as he finally steps forward, squeezing past his mother and pushes his flank against Hopepaw's silently. His head turned, laying across the shoulders of the lilac colored she-cat, and speaks quiet so only she can hear. "You can cry. It isn't... you don't have to. But it's good. Good for you." He whispers, then stands taller, vision turning towards the deceased. Decorated, wound with heavy-smelling flowers to cover the truth that they all knew. Beetlepaw does not dare stray forward, to press himself against his kin's oldest brother. That was not his honor to take.

Beetlepaw, however, does speak. "I hope the stars carry you well, Braveheart. You deserve to rest well." He murmurs, and then in a brief moment of fragility that he hardly shows, slumps the other direction and presses against Roeflame. Regardless or not if they shared blood, they shared a connection. Through Hopepaw and Coalpaw, through Thunderclan. Ears press against his skull, but he does not tear up- no, he leaves that honor to his sister.

"speech"

ooc

Ooc notes go here.

 

[doepath ࿔]

This was all wrong...

Everything about it was cruel. Malicious... a testimony of a curse that he did not deserve. What sort of sour-hearted hex had been placed upon him...? A proverbial ray of living light... snuffed out in a long, suffocating parade to make mockery of his goodness. Braveheart... who was softer than downy feathers... kinder than a warm spring breeze. Left to rot... and put on a brave smile... and promise everyone that they need not worry about him. He'd be comfortable in StarClan... and oh, how he loved those stars... but what about everyone he stood to leave behind? Gentlestorm, who hunched over him like he'd taken one of his legs when he'd left... Hopepaw, left to mourn a brother that loved her and cared for her when their parents had passed. Fallowbite... her heart aches most painfully for her sister above all. Stubborn, and insistent that they hadn't had a bond that close, only just peeling away at the surface of their affection when he'd been stolen from it. A father. Deprived of naming his children. Of licking their tiny heads.

I'm so sorry, for every future he had been ripped from. All in the name of some stupid rocks. Doepath couldn't understand it... these wars they touted as necessary. Was it her fault...? In some way, it must be... with as many kittens as she'd forced the clan to feed, it must be. Tears well in amber eyes unrelenting, pouring in healthy rivulets down fluffy cheeks in eager cascade. Even if she cried for an entire moon it wouldn't be enough... It would never fill the hole that was left, would never make a pond beautiful enough to stifle the loss.

"Don't blink up there... don't miss a single moment," she murmurs, nestling her nose close to a too-cold ear... smelling so heavily of flora, care taken in excess to hide that he has been still for too long. "We still need you... promise you'll watch." He wasn't allowed to rest. Not while everyone else was still here breathing for him; the least he could do was pay attention.

If she was lucky... he was listening... and just like in life, he'd never break a promise in death either.

please dont leave me ➺ in the dark

• DOEPATH
  nineteen month old warrior of thunderclan
  she/her fawn sepia with low white and yellow eyes