snowdrop flower ❄ private

[Snowpath]

StarClan is peaceful. He thinks of how strange it is to have no clans anymore, to have no border patrols or hunting parties organized. Prey is an endless stream of glittering creatures that walk right into your paws, but cats didn’t even really have to eat if they didn’t want to; old habits die hard he supposed. Snowpath wanders, he does not know how long it has been since his death and he is still adapting, still unsure of his place in this endless sea of stars and flickering lights; but he is not particularly bothered by his lack of a future or duties anymore. If anything, being allowed to simply watch his friends and family go about their lives periodically was enough to break up the seamless and mundane dream. But Snowpath has one last thing to do, he feels, before he can truly settle into this afterlife proper and it does not take very long to find her.

The worst thing that could ever happen to him has already happened, so why does he feel such trepidation now walking forward over the cloak of stars that blanketed the endless field; why did he feel such a tightness in his chest, such an unease? Why did he still feel like he wanted to cry? Snowpath thought dying would remove all pain, but he’s realized that the ache of a heart is eternal. It is the only explanation for why he feels so fragile once more standing before the ethereal and glowing form of the tortie point who last he saw of her was a bloody streak upon the snow ushered away from his claws.
“...I’m sorry.” The words escape him unbidden, he can not hold them back for a second longer in face of her gaze, “...I’ve always wanted to tell you, I’ve always wanted you to know…”
He used to wonder if he even deserved to be here, but he was despite his apprehension while he was still alive. It meant something, it meant he’d repented for what he’d done, it meant StarClan saw him worthy of the redemption he’d fought tirelessly for. He thinks again of his new name, wishes he could have thanked Blazestar for it more genuinely, but he is sure the flame point knows how much it meant to him; he hopes so at least. It was Blazestar who insisted his daughter would forgive him and hadn’t she even then with her last breath apologized to him?
"Morningpaw, I hope...I hope you can forgive me..."
Still, despite all these assurances, he waits with bated breath for her to speak.

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[Ooc]
@MORNINGPAW
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[MORNINGPAW ☆]

The arrival of a new StarClan warrior always fills Morningpaw with both sorrow and joy, especially those she’d known during her time in the forest. Snowpaw arrives as Snowpath. His body is strong, with no sign of the tree that has crushed his bones. There’s no blood on his pelt—not even on his paws, as she no doubt imagines. She approaches him on tufted paws, blue eyes glimmering. The stars twinkle above them, around them, within them.

“You don’t have to be sorry anymore, Snowpath,” she says. Her voice still has the girlish pitch it had before her death, but there’s wisdom in her eyes now. None of the uncertainty that had plagued her in life has followed her to StarClan. “You never have to be sorry again.” The tortoiseshell point touches her nose to his. “I never blamed you, Snowpath.”

Childish tears spring unbidden to her gaze. She brushes them away with a spotted paw and a gentle laugh. “You are so brave.” Morningpaw blinks. “Not just for saving them—but for carrying that guilt for so long.”
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[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[Snowpath]

You don't have to be sorry-I never blamed you, Snowpath.
He knows that, deep down he does, she had even apologized to him when her blood had stained his paws; as if it were her fault, as if she had taken his claws and carved them into herself. The blue tom lifts his head up with a light tilt to fight back the urge to cry before realizing why did it matter, who was he trying to impress. He was dead and Snowpath at the very least deserved the moment of being overwhelmed with raw emotion like a kit again, stumbling and lost.
So he gave a choked sob in reply, a smile on his maw despite it.
"Thank you, Morningpaw..." A travesty she would always be a 'paw' herself, but she seemed so much older than him now.
You're so brave-carrying that guilt for so long.
He wished, oh so desperately, that he could have been a SkyClan Warrior longer than a mere few seconds before passing-that he could have joined in clan in battle to defend it, fought alongside the warriors he had always admired. He'd spent so long barely existing, how funny that the brief moment before he died was the most alive he'd felt in moons. He'd soared, flown across the ground, he wonders if StarClan had helped guide him; he feels he barely touched the earth for a second. The spotted tom smiles, head tilted for the nose touch and it warms him in a way he wondered if he'd melt like his namesake.
"...I...this is silly, but do you think..do you think we could be friends?"
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