pafp READY, ABLE | graveyard

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Dusk slowly approaches. The sun inches toward the horizon, just beginning to sour the blue sky reddish and cold. Sedge has wandered the graveplots carved into the moorland flank. Bits and baubles mark where loved ones rest; feathers and stones and bundles of heather. But the graves that Sedgepounce searches for are unmarked.

By virtue of their allegiance, his parents died traitors. All his life, they'd been stalwart and immovable, and it was always with a frigid certainty that he knew where they ended up after he'd finally crawled his way back to the moor. Yarrowfang and Mudstone would rather die than let WindClan fall to ruin—or to let themselves be cast out.

Somewhere, here, is where all of those traitors were buried. Those that didn't make it to DuskClan. By now, the grass has regrown over the tilled earth. The soil has settled, and now teems with roots of gorse and wind-shrubs. He'll never be able to make any of them out, so. Instead he stands somewhere at the graveyard's middle and thinks about...something. His memories of the dead, maybe. Contemplations of what could have been.

He wasn't there for that battle. Maybe if he had been, he could have convinced them to see the other side. He could have saved them. If not both, then just one! But he wasn't there. Sedgepounce was locked away in some foul-smelling kittypet prison while WindClan fought for their lives. All because of—

Snakehiss.

A noise flicks at his ear. Sedgepounce turns and sees—stars. She looks just like him. Half of her, anyway. The grimy visage of their father cleaves down their middle in this terrible, uncanny fascimile. If not for their mottling, the youthful fluff of her face, their owl-eyed stare...

Sedgepounce is unaware of the terrible expression which eclipses his own features until he remembers to smother it.

"Oh...hi, Rowanpaw," Sedgepounce ekes out, face crumpling into an apologetic cringe. He turns to his paws, consciously pries his claws from where they've torn through the earth. He's not sure what he's doing here. "I'll, uh. Get out of your way."

@ROWANPAW
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[ROWANPAW]

Rowanpaw treads a path consisting of the remains of those who came before them. It's haunting, in a way, knowing that they had never met most of those buried here at WindClan's graveyard. Followers of Sootstar and Sunstar both are laid to rest here, never again to wander the world of the living. Are they reunited, with differences set aside while living together in eternal peace? Or were those tainted souls cast into a dark and aimless void, separated entirely from the borders of StarClan? They will never know.

Their dimmed multi-colored gaze sweeps slowly across each mound of earth. Somewhere here is the burial spot of Rosepool, the only direct kin they have left in WindClan aside from their littermates. Shadowsight had fled long before their birth, with Snakehiss soon following suit. Berrysnap may be resting under these grounds as well, though they weren't too certain. They only possessed bits and pieces of their mother's story and were unable to conclude if she had been driven out of WindClan or not before she died. None of their clanmates bothered filling them in on the details, and yet, for some reason they're fine with it.

It is as if they notice one another at the same time. Rowanpaw's stony visage is hard to truly read, while Sedgepounce's features morph and contort as he addresses her. They wonder if something is the matter, but it's probably none of their concern. "No need." The chimera reassures the warrior with a blink. He has a right to be here, perhaps even more so considering that she was supposed to be finishing up her task. Before she would leave for camp, however, she asks, "Are you visiting someone?"

𝐈𝐌 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ✹ . + 　 　˚ 　　　　 · 　 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐓

• 

• 

  a tunneler apprentice of windclan, rowanpaw is nine moons and is mentored by swiftshade they are the child of snakehiss and berrysnap. split directly down the middle, their right half is solid black and their left half is tortoiseshell patterned. they also have amber and blue heterochromia. ✦

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[downyfur]

Downyfur isn't quite sure who she's here for. In their youth it'd been with Brightshine and Pinkpaw to attend to Lilacstem and Larkfeather. Their marked graves stood before nothing but dark earth, but even so they were resplendent in the usual offerings: bruised little flowers, tawny-banded feathers, and the shambling remains of the stems Cottonpaw had passed to Downypaw one taut night. Downyfur has a habit lionizing them in her retellings of Sootstar's last war; this and the upkeep of what was supposed to be their resting places was all she could do for them now. Maybe it was all she ever could've done.

She visits Bearflight's grave too sometimes, when she's sure none of his immediate kin are nearby. Nowadays they're not sure what they miss more: their stalwart friend, or the newest zenith WindClan had reached just before they'd all been yoked back by the fires. After the fires was DuskClan, and after DuskClan came yellowcough—Downyfur can't be blamed for feeling that the orthodox state of WindClan should be misery. She's sure visiting the graveyard now has nothing good for her; maybe each return only infects her further with the pernicious disease of pessimism.

Sedgepounce's quiet startle turns a cupped ear, answered by Rowanpaw's brisk reassurance. Downyfur couldn't say visiting the graveyard is a quotidian part of their life, but Rowanpaw's life was shorter, and therefore their kins' dead shadows stretched over more of it. After Sedgepounce responds, she moves join them, trying not to be too alarming in her appearance: "Good evening, both of you." Their meow tiptoes between the rustling edges of the windswept cemetary, careful not to shatter the solemnity. "It's a nice one." For grieving.​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

Guilt churns through his gut, souring what was already a pointless downward spiral. He feels foolish for seeing so much of her father within her—Snakehiss was barely even around for their growing up, and Sedgepounce knows better to believe that traitorous behavior is hereditary. The familiar veil across her face is just an unfortunate coincidence. He resolves to not get caught so off guard in the future.

Rowanpaw's pithy dismissal keeps him from scurrying off like a startled mouse. He settles on his haunches, tense from still-roving thoughts, but settled for now. He regards their question with a deep sigh. "...Sorta," Sedgepounce admits. Somewhere beneath their paws his parents lie, but he doubts their souls gaze down upon him now. If they could see him...he imagines they'd stick up their noses at him for not grieving well enough.

Downyfur's soft rumble is a welcome addition. The iridescent blue of their eyes glints in the far-off rosy light. Who is she here for? he wonders. The words stick to his teeth.

"Mm," Sedge murmurs agreeably. His amber gaze pins toward Rowanpaw. "Swiftshade doesn't have you out here doing chores, does he?" At her age, Sedgepounce would have skipped out on something as boring and morbid as gravetending. Funny how those things change.
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