private OFFICALLY MISSING YOU &. ashenfall

// cw for very real feelings of grief/loss

"i'm sorry it's been so long since I've visited mom. i hope the stars are treating you well."

the leader's voice is unusually... sad. they've never been the one to show their emotions outward– lest it was anger. but there is none to be found. not here. not right now. at least, not outwardly. they gently placed a flower on their mother's grave– one that they personally attended as often as they could. serpentspine does the same, even if he doesn't remember her as much as they do. and whenever they can't, some younger cats seem to tend to her. they're grateful for that. they never want her to think they've forgotten about her. they gently sit down, pressing their nose against the ground, trying their hardest not to let tears slip. they do anyways. their tail sways behind them and a certain amount of anxiety sits within them. they wonder, would she love them the same way if she was still alive? would she be angry at them for who they've become, or love them and support them? would she still like the same songs? look the same? smell the same? smile the same? time changes so many... but they'd like to believe she'd still be the same loving cat she always was, albeit stern.

"i barely remember what you sound like. is... that a bad thing?"

they whisper, choking back more tears even though they fill up in the wells of their eyes. they press a paw to the stone that marks her grave, and their stomach twists. they try so hard to remember what she sounds like but all they can remember is how much it hurt when she died. they couldn't truly grief like that wanted, having a young kit to care for, but that didn't mean they didn't feel... wrong with her not around. it didn't make sense for her not to be here, when she's the first constant they had in their life. time doesn't heal all wounds. it just doesn't.

the sound of someone nearby makes them quickly blink away their tears, trying to stuff all of the feelings down to the depths of themself. they look over at ashenfall who's tending graves and twitch their ears in thought. he's here quite often, isn't he?

"ashenfall."

they quietly speak up, standing up and walking over to the deputy's son.

"how are you doing?"

they take a second. he might give them the easiest and quickest response. that's not what they want.

"really. you can talk to me. you come here quite often. I did, too, when she first passed. every time I could. I took serpentspine, back then he was just serpent and he barely knew what was happening, but I'd tuck in him to a nest while I tended raven's grave. she's... how are you truly feeling? no judgement. no snapping from me. just listening... if you'd like. it might help."

the inner turmoil of grief is a rocky storm to weather. still they want to listen. beats being left alone with their grief.

@ASHENFALL

———————---***i try to live in black and white***———————---

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  • black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and a blue single eye. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, one across their missing eye and the one across their neck.
    48 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
    they / them pronouns
    aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking
    child of JAGGED and RAVEN
    shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
    mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 
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˚₊‧ ⛧ //cw: continued grief discussion

It was hard to turn away from the blank spaces, the blackened holes of his memory where he knew his mother lived. It terrified him, the gaps and knowing that they would only widen as the seasons passed. Tending to the graveyard was as much an exercise in the maintenance of that memory as it was a service to the clan.

He tried not to approach grievers as they filtered in and out of the hollow, he didn't feel much obligation to butt in on anyone's day under the weak guise of "comfort", and most efforts on others' parts were met with a clipped, attempted polite dismissal on his part. Chilledstar's approach was assumedly one such obligatory emotional probing, a half-hearted bit of small talk that most were not prepared to receive a genuine answer to. "Fine, thank you," he mewed, polite enough in the presence of the leader of his clan, but keeping his focus on the minutiae of petal placement upon the smooth expanse of his mother's grave.

Chilledstar did not move away right away, as initially expected. Instead, they spoke more, and Ashenfall was reminded of the verbosity that seemed to be a necessary trait amongst those at the tippy-top of Shadowclan. They observe that he comes here often, and he is quick to confirm almost defiantly, "I do."

He almost expects a chiding about skirting his duties, but that does not come either. Instead, he's offered their nonjudgment, and he turns to really look at Chilledstar for the first time that evening. A flickering sweep along their face reveals to him something that looks like a genuine level of concern, and perhaps he is softened enough by their offer of relatable life experiences that he stops to poke at the feeling that rested inside him.

"I feel the same as I ever do, really," Ashenfall relents, prodding the feeling taking residence inside of him, "... Feels like everyone's waiting around for me to move on. I can't, though, I don't know why. I don't want to, I guess."

They can't make me... It's mine. Let me have it.

He wasn't like Smogmaw, skirting around his feelings like they were going to flatten him beneath them. He tended to the aching mountain of feeling with careful paws. If Ashenfall wanted to weave his life around it, tucking bracken and moss along the edges of feeling the same way he built his nest. He didn't care if it wasn't right, if it was unfitting for a warrior to linger upon loss every day, it was his grief and he would do what he saw fit with it.

He peered toward them, searching for some semblance of recognition in that ice-blue eye, "Do you get it?" A part of him suspected that no one would understand, and he would have to cope by himself amidst the graves of the mire, but he hoped it wasn't true.

  • OOC:
  • 29y3n1.png
  • ashenkit . ashenpaw . ashenfall
    — he/him. 16mo warrior of shadowclan. formerly mentored by smogmaw
    — smogmaw x halfshade. littermate to applejaw, swansong & garlicheart. older brother of thornpaw, halfpaw, and laurelpaw
    — a stout, longhaired blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
    — sarcastic, sharp-eyed, sulky, nostalgic, faithful, impulsive, candid, provocative, remorseful
    — "speech", thoughts
    — penned by eezy
 
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