ON MY SOUL // burial


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SOOTSTAR
The npc elders have carried the body to the burial place just outside of camp. Sootstar and a small group of other cats joined them, offering aid when allowed in the process of digging the grave. Ferretswipe had been a noble and respected senior warrior, but new-leaf brought snake spawn. Vulturemask had decreeded based on the shape of the bite that it had indeed come from an adder, likely venemous. They had found him lying dead.

Looking at the brown tabby’s body infuriates Sootstar, he had managed to live longer than many, but what a waste this was… There is a sorrowful scowl on her face as they move his body into the hole, she steps forward to help bury him. The blue she-cat isn’t sure she can count how many clan-mates she’s had to bury than the start of WindClan, the worst had been during the greencough outbreak… she shudders to think about it. Cats from the elderly to the smallest kits had been getting buried, yet the clans dared to scorn them for their desperation for herbs.

It felt like many moons ago now. She can’t help but wonder how many more bodies she’ll have to watch bury in the span of her remaining seven lives. Would there come a time where she no longer cared? Where it became routine? ”May you find warm breezes and swift hunting in StarClan, Ferretswipe.” Sootstar meows after she had spoken other traditional words of burial before taking a paw step back. She eyes her present clan-mates.

//its the end of the plot event and there is no elders, so im using this prompt with some missing context so it isn’t totally wasted!
”How do they all feel about witnessing yet another death and burying yet another cat together?”
answer it and it can count as a prompt for you too!
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Another clanmate dead. There have been too many dead clanmates recently. Scorchstreak cares deeply for each of her clanmates, even the most intractable cats, and to see even one of them lying so still makes her heart clench painfully. At the very least, Ferretswipe was not dragged across the border, not brutally slaughtered by a traitor harbored within another clan. A clan of hypocrites, of liars, of rogues in clan cats’ pelts. Ferretswipe was too good to have fallen at their claws—he was a senior warrior, climbing in age but not yet useless. A studious tom and a great mentor and role model.

Was dying to something so mundane, so bloodless as an adder bite better for Ferretswipe? Scorchstreak can’t say for certain, but at least she hadn’t had to watch him suffer for days, weeks on end. The disease outbreak that had befallen the clan in the height of the winter months plagues her thoughts even now. WindClan cannot keep losing clanmates, good, loyal clanmates.

The calico sweeps forth after Sootstar, tries to be graceful even with the slight heaviness that she’s just beginning to show. She settles beside the fallen warrior, pressing her nose against brown fur for a brief moment. She didn’t know him well, and she regrets that lack of connection now. He deserved better than this. "Catch some star hates for us all," she murmurs, low and serious. Then she straightens, strides to sit a few tail-lengths away.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
Weaselclaw grits his teeth, eyes burning with emotion as he stands beside his mate and his fellow lead warrior. The last cat they'd had to bury had been Juniperfrost, torn to shreds; before that, the greencough-ridden felines who'd had to die away from camp. WindClan has seen its fair share of death, and Weaselclaw does not know if he will ever get used to seeing a Clanmate taken before their time.

Ferretswipe, at least, had lived a long life and had been a service to his Clan before retiring. And he has to wonder if an adder's bite is quicker than being ripped apart by a traitor, or dying at the claws of a lesser Clan, or feeling your body fail to disease.

The tabby sighs. After Scorchstreak pays her respects, Weaselclaw presses his pink nose into the older cat's brown fur. "Rest easy. We'll meet again someday."

It's the consolation that keeps him from falling apart completely when a WindClanner is taken from them. They simply join a different Clan, a greater Clan. It's a safe and easy escape.

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 

"the wolf comes in the night when your mind is trying to sleep"


Another cat fed to the moors and released to Starclan. Over the course of Curlew’s life, too many had passed on. This death felt like more of a blessing than the ones before, however; an older warrior, killed by a snake bite, was normal compared to casualties of war and greencough. At the edge of the grave, the tom tipped his head to the sky, a silent prayer on his tongue. Starclan, help Ferretswipe rest easy. A quick glance at Sootstar created a pause. Help all of ours and cats of all clans to rest peacefully after the war we face, that we might learn from their example in Silverpelt. Curlew’s head tipped downwards in respect before he stepped away from the hole, leaving room for his clanmates.


✦ ★ ✦
 

Lemontongue has seen plenty of clanmates come and go in his short life. Deaths, exiles. Both are difficult in their goodbyes, but deaths more so.

The warrior holds comfort in the fact that his mother is alive out there, somewhere. He'd seen for himself, after all, before his warrior ceremony had been held. And though Lemontongue might not ever see her again, there’s still hope that their last goodbyes weren’t the final.

But, this was finite, Ferretswipe’s goodbye. The warrior fell to his star-laden fate by the strike of snake fangs, unmoving before him. Deaths are truly the more difficult of the two departures.

The cinnamon-furred warrior bows his head at Ferretswipe’s grave. “May StarClan light your path,” he murmurs his final farewell to the once strong warrior, his voice laced with sorrow. He can only hope they do not lose another so soon.
 
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"THEY SAY THAT IM RECKLESS BECAUSE I'M RELENTLESS"

It had felt like the clan had been doing so well recently, at least since Juniperfrost's death. Sure, there were injuries here and there but that was normal of clan life. A few life or death scares, a few animal or insect attacks on occassion. But an actual death? It seemed like they just got bombarded by 2 at once. Like Starclan was seeing them achieve just to much and had to remind them of the constant struggle life could be on the mortal plane.

A sigh escapes the large tabby as he makes him way over to the burial site where the others were gathered. He didnt know Ferretswipe all to well but he knew he was an outstanding warrior. Older then most of them here and a true windclanner to the core. The brown tabby swore he was one of the fastest runners, an expert in digging up stoats and trapping rabbits for others to ambush. He was an even greater mentor and guide to all the ones younger then him. Jagged could even remember being given advice on his pouncing tactics by him. A small interaction, but one he looked back on none the less.

He waits his turn as the others go ahead of him, only stepping up when he felt like he wasnt intruding. Moving closer to still body of the older tom, Jaggedoak pressed his muzzle into the fur of his neck, breathing in the scent of lavender and heather that masked the growing scent of decay. He closed his eyes and let his mind settle on the scent, hoping that it would not be pulled to the front any time soon. But with the fact that the other clans were looking for a fight, he was sure this would not be the last.

Breathing out in a drawn out sigh, the brown tabby rose from his crouch and bowed his head downward in honor of Ferretswipe, words slowly slipping in a mumble that he hoped the fallen warrior would hear from above. ❝ May you find everlasting peace in Starclan and all the rabbits you could chase. Race well, Ferretswipe. ❞ With that, he stepped back, allowing the next cat to give their respects as he lines up with the rest of the warriors on the side.
⊱ ♞ ⊰
 
Death is not so unfamiliar a thought to Sunstride. He has chased its embrace the way that WindClan chases its prey– not with the intent of catching it, but with the joy of its effort. Life is to be enjoyed in each and every moment, to be lived fully. Time is not the measure of success. Though he may at times think of seasons with creaky bones, with his legacy strewn before his paws and many stories to tell, he knows that it may not come to this. Perhaps he will die tomorrow, to an adder like the tabby. He may die alone, or surrounded by friends; with joyous stories or cruel mourning. There is no way to know until it happens. Yet as he stands here, surveying the ceremony of burial...he can do little but think.

A serious frown creases the warrior's face. Where the faint breeze ruffles his fur, it brings with it the flowery, herbal tinge of a grave. He had not known this particular mixture until he came here. There are no old memories to sting at his eyes, or prod at the weakest points of his heart. Silently he observes. Without judgement, or pain. He had not known Ferretswipe well. Try as he may to know each clanmate, they were as vast as they were entwined. To know is not to know, in a way that he could not elaborate upon.

Tired body moving with the weight of emotion and a faint uncertainty, as if he may disturb some ritual that he does not yet know, the former rogue approaches the cool body where Jaggedoak had stood a moment before. His nose presses into soft fur, immaculately groomed. Presented to StarClan in his finest form. If one could say that death was fine at all. Were it only so that the stars came to take them a moment before, while the fight still raged upon their lungs. He cannot say with certainty that they do not. "I will hear your tales among the stars, my friend. Save some for the day I join you." Like the others before him, Sunstride steps back. His space is left for another to fill, until their goodbyes have all been said.
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  • ooc:
  • SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
    —— cis male, he - him. thirty-eight moons old. lead warrior of windclan + former rogue.
    —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
    —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.

    sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
  • "speech"
 

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TIGERFROST ♂
0/9

WINDCLAN / LEAD WARRIOR
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH

HEALTH:

Ferretswipe had been a noble warrior, and one many in WindClan could trust. Tigerfrost was no exception. The moors could be a dangerous place, a paradise on the best of the days, and a living hell on the worst. Adders were commonplace, typically a nuisance, but the venomous ones were deadly, and there was little that could be done to save a cat from a bite. Once those fangs sank into flesh... it was already over. Death was not always quick, but it was certain. The Lead Warrior utters a harsh sigh. He will have to make certain that Moorpaw knows to avoid such creatures, lest she end up in an early grave. WindClan's apprentices should be taught to avoid the slithering death that hunted the grass.

"Rest well, Ferretswipe. We will learn from your mistake." Tigerfrost utters politely. He would make sure that his apprentice knows to avoid the adders.
 



Bluepool, like her sister, had been too so many vigils held for fallen clan-mates. Wether they succumbed from sickness or from claws, it didn't matter. They all ended up in the same dirt. She watches with eyes that are nearly vacant. She cant pretend that she is sad, death is only a natural part of life, after all. But it was disheartening to loose another warrior, to have to bury another clanmate. Others step up to say their goodbyes. Some are filled with sorrow, some are just apathetic, a goodbye with well wishes and nothing more. What will her goodbye be? She mulls it over in her head for a bit before it is her turn to lower her nose to that dusty brown forehead. "May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter while you sleep" she murmurs quietly then steps away so that others may also say their goodbyes before the elders took the body to be buried.