sensitive topics THE MOON WILL SING 𓆩♡𓆪 BLAZESTAR'S VIGIL

Blazestar's body is lain to rest within SkyClan's centre.

It would be a lie to call it rest, were he simply laid out as he were, bloodied and bruised; pictured like a great beast slain in the throws of battle. Dawnglare washes it all away. Wet moss and the dabbing of cobweb work to wipe away blood and grime. He takes his time; stops and pauses. So he could blink the tears from his eyes. So he could glimpse Blazestar's own, and be certain that it was not a twitch of life that he saw. Some joke it would be, for Blazestar to come awake again; jostled to life by the tickling of moss. It would be a cruel one, but he'd prefer it much, over this.

He'd thought that it would make him feel better, to depart from his friend under the guise of easy sleep, rather than won brought by fitful claws. It helps him none. In the end, he still cries. Who wouldn't, before such a great light? One snuffed far too soon. Snuffed, when he hadn't needed to be.

At last, he shuts his friend's eyes.

SkyClan did not have lavender to spare, but he does it for him— an extra curtain of petals, and he smells like home. The knowledge Dawnglare had gleaned alone from the comfort of twolegplace with his friend by his side. If he had never gone, there would be things he never saw... but there'd be no need to see them, just the same.

Selfishly, he uses the time he is given to sit with him one last time, left unbothered by the noses of those who did not know him the same way. The last glimpses of warmth are dredged away, and Valentine clings to it greedily, forehead pressed to a mount of golden fur. Any words he had were only for him, mumbled low, " This was never meant to happen, friend. " And by this, he meant all of it.
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  • ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
    𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
    𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 61 moons old as of 2.1.24. Mated to Mallowlark

    Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest. Delusional and very much stuck in his ways. The death of his closest friend has helped him none, in this
    Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads
 

Figfeather approaches once the clear is given, Dawnglare still sits with the leader's sill form, his forehead pressed into his fur. She makes sure to steer clear of him and allows him to remain, she'll be quick. Blazestar had kits, friends, and former apprentices who needed more time than she did with him. She approaches now so she would not have to bother them later.

Inhaling the scent of lavender she bends down and licks Blazestar's shoulder just as she had when he turned her into a warrior of SkyClan. A mournful look weighs heavy in his eyes, it was still terribly unreal to her... How were they to continue in a world where Blazestar wasn't here to guide them anymore? "Oh, Blazestar... what are we going to do without your wisdom?" She whispers to him with a solemn shake of her head.

"Thank you for everything." It felt impossible to show how grateful she was, for all his sacrifices, for all his teachings, for his strength and guidance. Figfeather knows she'll never be satisfied with the final words she shares with him, you never are when a clan-mate goes.

Pressing her nose softly into his fur she takes in his scent one last time, knowing that one day as the moons pass it'll grow faint in her memory as Daisyflight, Snowpath, and Tallulahwing's scents slowly have.

Before she pads away she looks up at Dawnglare knowing full well the two had been lifelong friends, their bond even older than the clans themselves, something Figfeather could not even begin to comprehend. "I'm so sorry, Dawnglare."

For the last time she gives Blazestar's fallen form a respectful bow of her head before padding off to the outskirts of camp.
  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » Mentoring Wolfpaw
    » Mate to Fantastream
    » Sire to Sangriakit & Coffeekit
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and aid to her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 

Applefrost would not pretend that she and Blazestar were closer than they really were. She had held great loyalty to the golden tom, had fought for the land he claimed with every tooth and claw she had. Fed every mouth he housed whether they were from the Pine Colony or not. But it was the same expectation any other warrior should have, and though they were familiar with each other longer than some, their relationship was entirely professional.

"I will carry you through my name." Applefrost murmured, keeping her distance from the fallen tom. She glanced up at Dawnglare for just a brief moment, quickly pulling her gaze to anything else. A stray stone stuck in the dirt. A piece of old moss an apprentice hadn't clean up yet. She felt out of place among those grieving, knowing no time would be the right one for Blazestar to fall. He could have outlived an entire generation with the lives he held and it still would have been too soon for some. But he had fulfilled his purpose and earned his place among the stars. He would run through Silverpelt with his kin and fallen Clanmates, and Orangeblossom would ascend as was expected of her role.

Figfeather whispered into Blazestar's cold pelt and she held down the sigh at her maw. "You will find it in the echoes." The pointed molly whispered back before deciding to rise from her place. Applefrost wouldn't force herself to feel uncomfortable if she didn't have to. With another flicker of pale eyes across a still, thick coat she paused as if waiting for the body to take another gasp for air.

It did not come. She did not remain.

// out!
 
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    orangeblossom | tags
    — she/her ; deputy of skyclan. mentoring springpaw.
    — scarred white-and-ginger she-cat with brown eyes.
    "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by waluigipinball
    — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
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Orangeblossom flicks her tail against Applefrost's flank as her sister passes by, something utterly defeated resting upon her expression as she looks at Blazestar's lifeless body. Some part of her still expects him to stir, even now; with his fur carefully cleaned and wreathed in lavender, still as the branches above their heads with no breeze to bend their boughs.

It takes her a while to approach, unsure of what to say. She sits down heavily nearby Blazestar's head, near to the closed eyes of permanent sleep. Should she say anything? She hadn't, really, for Clanmates passed before him. Tallulahwing's vigil had been spent in thoughts of taking her ribbon home. For Sheepcurl and Mountainheart, too, she had been silent. Much like then, she can't bring herself to grieve. She can't do much but stare, shut away the empty feeling that yawns within and guard it with claw-sharp brambles so it could not expand.

She'd only known Blazestar briefly before he'd become leader. She remembers the fury of Rain's sons when he had been declared as such; remembers how she had intended to side with Squallmist back then should he challenge the light-dipped leader for his place. She'd been determined, either way, not to leave the pines she'd called home all her life. So she'd stayed; warrior of SkyClan, dutiful and blunt, lingering on the fringes and never yearning for more.

She remembers when Blazestar had declared her his third deputy, near dismissive in his bluntness, the sting of his hurt over Deersong's stepping down marking Orangeblossom as a second choice. She'd been honoured, hesitant, though somewhere in her mind the memory only focuses on Fireflypaw's elated shape dancing around her on light paws. They'd both been so much younger then, hadn't they? They're both without their leader now, though his burden is heavier for having lost their father, too.

Her mind blanks, after that. All she can do is watch, to memorise the lines of Blazestar's muzzle. He'll fade to shapeless colour in her mind soon. Her aunt is the same. Is he there with her? She wonders. Up in StarClan? Orangeblossom thinks she might have died too soon to know that she had a place to go. A small sigh works into the air. She touches her nose gently to Blazestar's shoulder, and inhales the scent of lavender among his fur. When she leans back, her vision blurs.

Orangeblossom steps back a few paces, settling herself far enough away that other mourners could take her place, but close enough that she could still pretend Blazestar's warm aura was with them.
 
They stand by the group of mourners, watching with sorrowful green hues as they exchange last words and touches with their passed leader. Honeysplash wanted to step forward, to touch noses with him one last time but it does not feel right to do so. She had not been his child, nor even a friend but he had been a respected figure in her life. He had given her her name, both time too, and she’d remember him forever as the best tom int he forest.

Then their gaze flicks over to white fur patched with orange and they pushed themselves up onto their paws. Honeysplash limps her way over to her elder sister, Applefrost had left, and she sits beside her. She watched the mourners for a moment in silence and then moves to rest her head on Orangeblossoms’ shoulder softly. An offer of comfort, something to let her know it was going to be okay.

Even if it felt like nothing would be okay again.​

"Speech"

living in a world so cold
 
  • Sad
Reactions: Orangestar
Blazestar had given him an opportunity. One that he would eternally be grateful for. They weren't friends in life and there was no point in pretending that they were. Disrespectful it would be if he even dared that. He waits for everyone to take their turn. This is going to be a long vigil, but while it may seem bad it is not. It means that Blazestar was a fine leader and he will be dearly missed. That his paws touched the lives of many. While the rest of them would have to carry on, for a moment they would be able to stop and send him off properly. After Orangeblossom takes a step back, he draws close to the unmoving body. It's a shame I can't keep proving myself to you, but if you're watching us... Then, I was happy to meet you even for just a little bit Blazestar. Thanks for giving me a new life.

A blue muzzle will stop short of the fallen leader's ear to whisper, "We'll see each other again." Afterward, he would back away from the golden tom and allow someone else to say their goodbyes. Don't forget my name now, you gave it to me after all. When we see each other again, I want to hear if I was worthy of the name Beetleback.
 
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The moon washes over his coat like a river, but Fireflypaw finds he is swimming in an ocean of his own emotions right now. As Dawnglare prepares the body of his father for his vigil, Fireflypaw listens to his words quietly with his head held low. His body posture is crooked, bent over to make himself smaller, but he only looks more awkward the more he adjusts himself. He wants so badly to hold onto his father and never let go, but part of him knows that he cannot cling to what is gone any longer. Morningpaw, Little Wolf, and now Blazestar is gone. He blinks sadly.

Would all of his family perish before him, was he doomed to this fate? Having the luxury of staying alive through sickness and plague, only to perish to age?

"I love you, pa." He whispers softly, can feel the barely-there grace of the wind on his shoulders. A prayer, soft and hummed, slips past his lips. Mother will claim him soon, but StarClan has already welcomed his father. He blinks slowly then, blind blue eyes staring off into the distance.

I'll see you soon.
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 18 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS
 
He had agreed to sit watch with Orangeblossom, but his mind felt lost. Sitting off to the side, leaving Dawnglare in peace to prepare the body. In the end, that's all it was, a husk of its former host. There is bitterness in such thoughts, but Dogbite can't find it in himself to think more positively. They'd had such little time to share with the ragdoll, and it was all taken away in a flash with little regard for those left behind. It was positively ruthless, and he couldn't understand why the stars needed him so soon. Looking up, his blue eye squinted to see if one shone brighter than the other or if a secret was left, but they all twinkled the same. His face scrunched, then relaxed in defeat as he cast his hopeful gaze to the dirt. We will all live another day, and there's plenty to keep us all busy. Hah. It's grounding and factual but brings little comfort.

Approaching paws from behind and soft whispers are a choir of background noise he didn't dare listen to. Far too intimate and meant for the belief the older tom would be listening bathed in stardust. There are no tears left to spare, but his chest continues to twist with heartache he believed would never truly vacate. Sighing soft and low, the tabby hauls himself onto steadier paws and turns to face the mourning cats. There splayed in the center of camp and lined in florals, the corpse seems poised almost refined. Blazestar's blood still stains the paler parts of Dogbite's neck and sides, which feels ironic in comparison. Noting Fireflypaw's presence, he takes care not to interrupt his time. Tentatively, he steps towards the available space until he's hardly a mouse length away.

His eye takes in the soft wavelets of golden cradled and delicately cleaned by careful paws. Dawnglare had done an exceptional job, but Dogbite would forever retain the site of Blazestar's brutalized remains. Bending down, he gently presses his pink nose to the leader's crown. Eye closed and shoulders sagging with exhaustion. I hope you're listening. You left without so much as a goodbye. There's a touch of humor in the prayer, but it's swiftly taken by churning emotions, knowing that damned Windclanner had ensured such a fate. We'll be okay down here, so you rest. Me and you never like to take things easy, but you've got no choice now. A familiar burning builds behind his lid as stray tears make their presence relevant. Goodbye, Blazestar. Maybe you can teach me how to hunt among the clouds someday. He nuzzled their soft pelt once more before stepping back and shuffling out of the group, giving ample space to the remaining cats seeking their goodbyes.

  • ———✧———​
    ✧ LH cinnamon tabby w/high white one blue eye
    ✧ child of npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
    ✧ skyclan warrior ; ex-loner ; mentor to littlepaw
    ✧ 32 moons old ; birthday 07/01 ; ages realistically
    ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
    ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
    "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
    ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
    ✧ penned by tasmagoric
    ———✧———​
 
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Feelings are usually something vague and distant to the well groomed tom, they're passing and fleeting, coming and going just like his thoughts. The tremble that entered his voice when entering the territory for the first time alongside the realization that he was well and truly alone, is perhaps an event he can identify as the most earth shattering experience, but a moment and a feeling that had been fleeting nonetheless.

Blazestar. They shared, like many within SkyClan, a life from the comfort of shelter provided by housefolk. Seeing the flame point never failed to induce some sense of surprised fondness. Without the leader he wouldn't have his name, hearing it is a reminder that he's home. Ears pushed back, his glazed eyes holds steady onto the form of Blazestar.

Softheart ducks his head. "Sorry." He can't offer anything else, other than clumsy words spilling out, not of his own volition. "You got me the best gift I ever got... to belong." He doesn't want to occupy the space nearby long, but his timing is never right and he lingers a beat too long, tumbling over himself before joining the others, where he slumps onto his haunches.

Loss is largely unfamiliar to Softheart it's an experience, that like everything is ultimately fleeting. For now, he sits, he sits and stares, lets the empty feeling in his gut keep his attention.
 
  • Sad
Reactions: Floppie

Howlfire sits huddled close to Coyotecrest, once again glad for his quiet, comforting presence. It's nice to have him there, even if she can't bring herself to say much to him at that moment.

Her earlier wailing and pleading have ceased and now she sits in quiet contemplation, a fresh sheen of tears forming in her eyes. Howlfire had hoped not to cry again, but she cannot help herself, and refuses to shield her tears from her clanmates. For better or worse, she has always been an emotional cat. Howlfire already knows she will linger for some time by her father's side, so she hangs back for a little while, letting her clanmates say a few goodbyes before she steps forward to say her own piece.

She has to give Dawnglare credit where it was due, he had done a good job at making Blazestar look more at peace now, as though he had drifted off into an endless sleep, rather than the vicious way his life had been cut short and Bobbie's had been forever changed. Howlfire approaches slowly, as tentative as a kit taking its first steps. When she does finally stop before her father, she lowers her head to his shoulder, pressing her muzzle against it and drinking in his scent once more and committing it to memory. It's a pointless thing in truth, as she already knows in a few moons the smell of her father will be a distant memory, as will the tones of his voice.

"I wish you didn't have to go," Howlfire said when she finally lifted her head up. It seems so unfair to take him when his and Bobbie's kits were not yet born, when his grandchildren were not yet warriors. "I'll miss you but I know you'll always be with me. I love you dad." And then in a quieter voice, meant just for him she adds, "I was so proud to be your daughter."
 
Zemo doesn't dare to approach Blazestar, as he sits silently outside the warriors den. What a perfect time to join SkyClan, huh? He never got the opportunity to meet the late leader, which is quite unfortunate if you ask him. He recognizes a few cats near the body— the battle scarred warrior, and the deputy. So, she must be next in line, The patchwork feline thinks to himself, as his gaze briefly lands on the she-cat. I wonder how she's handling his loss. Not a word comes out of the white and ginger she-cat as she presses her nose against Blazestar's fur. How tragic, He thinks as he wraps his tail around his paws, as more SkyClanners approach the body of their leader, and share tongues one last time. While he doesn't feel grief for the tom he never knew, he does understand their grief. It might not be the same as a leader, but losing his mate and younger kits threw his world upside down. He wishes he could speak to them again, and brush up against their fur one last time. He has so much love for them, yet the love has nowhere to go.

I didn't even get to say goodbye. The new warrior thinks bitterly, remembering how the ice cold river swept them away. The water was so fast, and the tom barely had time to blink before they disappeared into the current. He would've given anything to say goodbye to them, like how these SkyClanners are saying goodbye to Blazestar.

He lets out a quiet sigh, and turns into the den— ready to sleep off the night.

  • out!
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    artwork by me
  • Zemo
    skyclanner, former loner
    determined
    deceptive
    experience: trained
    backstory: tbd
    biography: [HYPERLINK]
    credit to nopeita for the pixel & tropics for the icon <3
    cisgender male [he / him]
    eyes: green
    pelt: black/fawn tabby chimera
    fur length: long
    parents: isidora and vuk (loner npcs)
    40 moons


 
Of course, the Maine Coon could not stray outside of the medicine den; his wounds were tender and sore, threatening to scream and writhe with every movement he made. Slate only witnessed the somber ceremony from afar; clanmates quietly murmured their tearful goodbyes to their former leader. A strange sight to behold this was, as SkyClan was usually overwhelmingly cheerful and upbeat. Even the brightest-colored cats appeared pale today; the blazing sun of the pines had finally set, entering an eternal rest.

You believed in me when no one else did. Why? Blazestar had told him once that he had earned his place among SkyClan's ranks. That SkyClan was better with him in it. Even now, as he sits and rests his dulled gaze on the still corpse of the fallen king, he wonders if he was right about Slate all along. What had inspired Blazestar to allow him a home in SkyClan, even when so many times he had sparked conflict with his own clanmates and acted as if he would never fit in?

Without Blazestar's patience, his kindness, Slate would not be standing here today. Out of all of the former kittypets that Slate had known, Blazestar had undoubtedly been the greatest. Perhaps too fair at times, maybe sickeningly good-natured, but loyal down to his bones. The golden-furred tom's devotion to his clan—his willingness to die nine times over for them all—was nothing like the former rogue had ever witnessed before. Nothing like the selfish savagery Slate lived through every day on the streets.

His amber hues flicked upward toward Orangeblossom. His rugged features are unusually soft, a thoughtful frown resting on his maw as he tries to read the deputy's expression from afar. Stars, Slate couldn't imagine what was going through her head right now — she had lost a mentor and friend, and now she was expected to step into his place before she could even mourn properly. Slate feels his chest twinge with uncertainty as he thinks of the impending reality. If he could help it, she would be safe. She had to be.

  • SLATE
    —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
    —— bisexual; single; not looking
    —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles
 

As he always did at vigils, Twitchbolt felt exceedingly out of place. Blazestar's children, his oldest friend, his loyal deputy- they all flocked to his side to share tongues one final tme, to offer their prayers to the stars. With Daisyflight, too- even though he'd been her apprentice, he had felt as if he shouldn't be there, as if he was intruding. But- in life, Blazestar had never made Twitchbolt feel as if he was barging in on something. In fact, all the kindly leader had ever done was make him feel quite welcome- as an apprentice, as a warrior, as part of his council.

The memory gave him courage, and so did the other warriors. The sorrow, the gratitude, it was palpable. It fuelled Twitchbolt forward, with his memory, to touch his nose to the fallen leader's shoulder, to remember his scent. It was the scent of SkyClan itself, already fading into nothing. Wide eyes glimmered with tearfulness and remembrance, as moments flickered in his memory. Flinging a squirrel right into the leader's face, Daisyflight watching on with wry amusement. A horrendously awkward conversation he initiated, in a fit of bad judgement, about how to get rid of your feelings for someone. His warrior name leaving the leader's smiling lips, igniting a strom within him, borne from the thunderbold, of pride and innate knowledge that he was at least worthy of that.

Blazestar had given him so much. And had he ever thanked him for it?

As he lifted his head from the golden tom's dressed body, Twitchbolt shuddered out the words. "Thank you," he said, looking then up to the stars, where he hoped to see SkyClan's light blazing in Silverpelt. "You were always there. You- you..." His throat was dry. He spoke lowly, his voice frayed and fracture, a croak into the night that bloomed into mist. "I, I admired you, and I always will. You're kind, you're understanding, and- and you saw me even when I didn't think I was worth seeing."

His words were a mix of past and present. In his mind, Blazestar cannot be dead, despite what reality shoved down his throat. "Goodbye, Blazestar." He felt detached from himself as he said it, as if it couldn't be true. "Thank you." Irrationally, he said it again.

Stepping back to give some space, Twitchbolt let a sigh whisper into the dark. He would not sleep tonight.
penned by pin ✧
 
  • Crying
Reactions: Cherryblossom
Not knowing Morningpaw, Cherrypaw wonders if it was Little Wolf who had welcomed him.

She has chosen a place next to @SLATE , of all cats, right outside the entrance of the medicine cat den. Dawnglare and Fireflypaw couldn't possibly mind; nothing but Blazestar, his legacy, his love, could be on their minds this moonlit night. The apprentice is as quiet as her mentor, sunlit gaze staring somberly out into the dismal crowd. How nice it must be, to leave so many in pieces in your wake. Blazestar, for what she knew of him, probably wouldn't have wanted these legions of mourners. Still, Cherrypaw wonders if, all the way up, past the the moon, he feels at least a tiny bit satisfied at how much they all had loved him.

And Cherrypaw, too, admits she may have loved him. Not his soul, but his instutition. If admiration was love, and exasperation and amusement and respect were love, then she had loved him as much as any in the clan had. If unquestioning devotion was love. She would have taken his chosen name and gone to war for him, would have surveyed his lands for him and mentored his kits. Blazestar had never been her leader by choice. He had just been so.

No fresh tears slip down her cheeks, raw from the shock of the day. She quietly watches Blazestar's future roll into the night, the kittens he would have named apprentices, the apprentices he would have named warriors. It wasn't like she was never going to become a warrior without the leader that had let her become an apprentice, but she mourns it, for some reason. His force of character, paradoxically gentle and imposing, had left his body the moment the light did. Cherrypaw could not miss he's done for her, but she could miss what he's done and would've continued to do.

Grief hangs heavy on her eyelids, coaxing them closed. She would like to stop being sad, but it doesn't feel like the world should resume running anytime soon.​
 
It takes Drizzlepelt awhile to reach out. It took him equally as long to think of what he could even say. Blazestar’s death is the biggest tragedy he has faced thus far, and will always be up there. He didn’t even feel this sad when his mother finally said that she had enough of him. Pebble…his old name feels so foreign in his thoughts, now. Drizzlepelt is his name, his real name. And it was given to him by a leader he will never share another moment with, until he dies.

He steps up to Blazestar’s body, thinking too of how peaceful he looks thanks to Dawnglare. It’s a beauty he would never expect of the medicine cat, but he is grateful for it nonetheless. It’s what he deserves. He couldn’t imagine there ever being another cat with the same amount of kindness he has shown, to both him and everyone here. Drizzlepelt can’t imagine what his life would be like if he was left for the wind, barely surviving day to day. SkyClan is his home, and it would forever be now, thanks to him.

Drizzlepelt’s eyes turn downward, staring at the corpse in front of him wordlessly before he takes a deep gulp of air, looking for his voice. “Thank you so much, Blazestar. I…I wouldn’t be the same cat if it wasn’t for you. You helped make me a better cat, and I will never forget it. I’ll do my best to continue your legacy, and be the cat you would want me to be. …Goodnight.” Tears continue to fall down as he licks the flame point’s fur for the final time.

He returns to the crowd, head down as he does so. Once again, WindClan has taken something from him. Hopefully, this would be the final time. As WindClan is born anew, so will SkyClan. StarClan willing, Orangeblossom will be an amazing leader that will rival the only lead that SkyClan has known. Drizzlepelt believes in her.​