starburned and unkissed ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ decorating graves

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ 　ShadowClan's graveyard is more lively than it's ever been today. Colorful blooms decorate lonesome stones, bursts of color above the peaty soil where the dead lie in dreaming. A diligent worker makes her way through, brightening up the dim field. She's taken great care to clear away debris; left little flowering gifts for the lost whom she knew (far too many, as is true for most among the marshes). A wistful smile graces her tranquil face as she makes her way with the most gorgeous of the gathered flowers to the grave which she knows best.

She and Ashenfall had tried, in the snowmelt days, to do it justice. She'd known it needed better then, and newleaf has granted her the means by which to honor it. An eclectic gathering of gifts marks the grave of Swansong's mother, and they present her now with a bouquet of fresh blooms. This is what a cat such as Halfshade deserves, this is how she repents for the death which she was too lost in delirium to truly witness. Her most frequent haunt, this field of mourning stones - she cares for every stone as if it were her star-given duty. It is, in a sense. But her responsibility is to one most of all; she tucks the blossoms in beside it delicately. "There," she murmurs pulling away to survey her work. Her eyes rest upon the stone that marks Halfshade's grave; she's taken such great care to remember it, even as seasons pass. "That's much better, isn't it...?"

‎‎┌── WE FOUND TWO DEAD SWANS ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ AND FILLED THEIR BODIES WITH FLOWERS ──┐‎

• 
  
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG　⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆　she / they, warrior of shadowclan, fourteen moons.
  ➳ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with droopy blue eyes.
  ➳ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ➳ halfshade x smogmaw, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[Snowlark.]

[ ༻❄༺ ] Snowpaw hardly, if ever visits the grave. He had been avoiding it for far too long, knowing this was the resting place of his parents. Of course, perhaps it was the feeling that he wasn't ready yet to visit their stones, to talk with them but...soon, he'll finally muster up the courage to visit their stones. Gaze flicking to Swansong who was busy decorating the one that belong to the former Halfshade, her mother and his eyes softened a bit before coming to stand next to the warrior. He had nothing to say, he did not know Halfshade but he knew her kin, her sons and her daughters and he was sure she was proud of each and every last one of them.

"Those blooms are gorgeous, Swansong and... I'm sure they appreciate it" he spoke softly, feeling it would be bad to speak in a normal tone. All these cats who lay here had once had purpose, and meanings within the clan and now they were gone. There was a sadness in that and perhaps that made it even more difficult for him to want to visit, he wasn't ready to face that flood of emotion he may get from visiting them, his parents graves for a first time.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── You ve wasted your life , but thanks for applying ──┐‎

• 
  "speak""Thoughts"
  
• 
  Snowpaw ❄ He/Him, apprentice of Shadowclan, 9 moons.
  ⭃ Lithe long hair blue lynx sepia with high white, and yellow eyes. Stubby tail, permanent resting bitch face
  ⭃ Hailfreckle x Mudsplash
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted (ask first) / / underline and tag when attacking
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by Ryn ↛ @/Rynnaro on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[sneezepaw]

Sneezepaw doesn't visit the gravesite much. He always thought he would be more useful helping the cats who were alive, rather than focusing on the dead. But there was something so beautifully tragic and so pristine about the way Swansong decorated her mother's grave that kept Sneezepaw encapsulated, holding him around far longer than he meant to when he was passing by.

Snowpaw is present, as well, and Sneezepaw wonders who it is that they have to mourn. He wonders if he has anyone to mourn in this gravesite - maybe his father, a mystery of a cat that he never knew the name of. Whether or not he had any personal motives for sticking around, perhaps he could offer some comfort for those that did. "They are beautiful," he agrees with Snowpaw. "Is there.. anything I can help with? Any graves left to tidy up?"
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• sneezekit SNEEZEPAW
  ━━ APPRENTICE of SHADOWCLAN | 7 MOONS ,, ages every 2nd
  ━━ DUCKSHIMMER xx NPC | SIBLING to SINGEPAW and SWALLOWPAW
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to none | MENTORED by SHARPSHADOW​
• 
  
  
• speech is #ffcc8a​

 

[Haretooth]

"INDELIBLE IS WHAT I NEED TO SPREAD THE WORD."​

It was of little surprise that the graveyard that held ShadowClan's finest was an area that Haretooth frequented. His parents had passed at a young age, while he did not necessarily see a correlation between that and his visitations, they were a stop he would make during his visits. The art of grave upkeep was a thankless job, one that the tom was much too callous to undertake himself.

The figures of Swansong, Snowpaw and Sneezepaw by Halfshade’s grave, was curious. He noted that it was adorned in gifts and a bouquet of flesh blooms, introducing life into an otherwise death marked site. Presumably, this was Swansong's doing, an obligation of kin. The smell of pollen and floral scents in the air was a refreshing difference, newleaf had brought that scent lingering in the air but it was concentrated here. He hummed, appreciating Sneezepaw’s sentiment of wanting to help keep the gravesite’s upkeep maintained, though it wasn’t something he echoed. Like a ghost wandering aimlessly across the marshlands, Haretooth’s pale limbs glide through the air as he approaches the three clan-mates. Keeping a respectable distance as to not disturb the carefully crafted peace that Swansong had curated.

“The graveyard has never looked so serene before, your delicate paw is just what this necropolis needed” he nods in approval, pale blue eyes sweeping over the site. An ear flicks towards Snowpaw and Sneezepaws direction, Swansong was an unsuspecting presence here but the apprentices being here was new. “Are you two here to pay your respects as well?” There’s a small thought that dances across his mind, blooming to give birth to an idea. An opportunity to prod, surely the apprentices didn’t think that such sacred ground would hinder him from his usual antics. “Or are you two just here just for pleasure? I understand, a graveyard is a peaceful place to be. Why, I could drift to sleep here if I could be so inclined.” There was an airiness to his tone, mirth apparent at his attempts in jesting, maw parting for a toothy grin.
​

✯☽✯​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

"hey mom. been a while. sorry. i don't mean to take so long in between visits its just..."

they twitch their ears, trailing off. they sit down at her grave with a somber look in their eyes. they miss her. this visit was a lot harder, especially after their nightmare. but if they're being honest, they knew that wasn't their mom. their mom was always kind. and sweet. and she took things by stride. she appreciated everything and everyone, and gave some cats way too many chances. she was the best mom any cat could ever ask for. they laid their head down, sighing for a second.

"if geckoscreech is up there, please tell her I love her, okay? and I miss her every single day. and I'm sorry I couldn't save her. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I gotta go visit some other cats but I'll be back before I head to camp, okay?"

they take a few more moments before getting up and joining the small crowd. the graves do look nice. maybe they should make one for geckoscreech. she's not coming back. they know that. but maybe being in denial about being a widow makes it easier. that sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?

"thank you for keeping these nice."

they know swansong isn't the only one who puts so much effort into it. they're thankful either way. the dead deserve as much respect as the living.

———————---***ALL OF MY FEELINGS ARE GONE***———————---​

I LEFT 'EM ALL ON THE FLOOR✧ MAN WHO'S TO BLAME IF YOU DON'T LOVE ME NO MORE

•  
• — black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
  — 46 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
  — they / them pronouns
  — aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking / 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

​

​