sensitive topics TO ARRIVE 𓆩⟡𓆪 DEATH

[M. MOUSER]

He had held out long enough to see the journey cats off. Though illness and delirium overtook him quickly once his symptoms began, his eyes had opened at their retreating figures through the safety of his distance. Blazestar leading them off. So many of them would not return. None of them would see him alive again. The frail old tom who had lived through everything, through monsters and shelters and twoleg cruelty alongside twoleg love, had seen all that he would. Yellowcough was his final battle, and in his last few moments....He believes that he fought it admirably. For one so old and useless as he. There was nobody nearby to share his final moment of wittiness with, but Mouser still passes with a wry smile on his tired, scarred face.

They had told him of StarClan. The ancestors that guided them, who blessed Blaze with death several times over. Who doomed him to survive. What a blessing. What a great and terrible thing, both. He supposes he should never have worried about them accepting him. The stars greet him like a long lost friend, and he is glad to join them.

˗ˏˋ《  OOC 05.06.2023 》´ˎ˗

• 
  ooc: —
• 
  ──── monsieur mouser, casually known as mouser.
  ──── elderly shelter cat. dmab male, and neutered.
  ancient as he is, life alone is a miracle for mouser. but when one takes in the extent of his scars, it becomes even more so. his dark, silvery-tinged fur is broken up by heavy scarring along his back leg and tail, with one bright yellow eye turned glossy with blindness.
• "speech"

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[DAWNGLARE]

The moment he’d known – the moment that their salvation has proven to be one sad little herb within the dredges of his den, wet, in his attempts to keep it preserved, Dawnglare had gone to right the infections wrongs. Slung in honey, he had given it to the sick; and massaged it down the throats of those who were too far gone to work their own mouths. Mouser had been one of them, and yet, the old tom had never seemed to recover quite so miraculously as the others.

Dawnglare had kept his faith. Seeing Sparrowsong and Quillstrike come to strength, he had kept his faith. The world is not yet frigid enough for lungwort to truly blossom, so he could spare no expense. Even as he watched the elder through the corner of his eye, breath strange and eyes dull, the thought of another dose had crossed his mind, but…

Well, now the tom was dead.

His acknowledgement is soft, a hum of something when Dawnglare slips through the branches of his den, and sees the flank eerily still. Morbid tradition he has started – to nose over each of the bodies within his care, whenever he should wake, or return from somewhere. It was no guarantee that he would find them still moving, and this was one of those things; an end he had not been there to see.

Those who had returned from the gathering alongside him would be tucking themselves to sleep. Is it selfishness, or the opposite that spurs him into sharing the news. Not through words, but through a body. He calls for Fireflypaw the moment he spots him. He tells him to help.

Wordlessly, he would bring Mouser’s body into the open. Not so central that you could not pass through camp without subjecting yourself to sickness, but clear enough that you could see him dead, tucked close to the holly bush he had spent too many of his days in.

Dawnglare retreats, and he returns with Lavender; letting the cat that was Mouser soak up its lovely scent. Mother too, would sense the spread of petals, and know what to expect.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 9.16.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: apprentice tag; @Fireflypaw

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 56 moons old. 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.
  

  You may find him kinder to others than is typical, exhausted from the yellowcough blight and heart heavy in a way he has never felt.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[Grapejuice]

More and more of his clanmates have been falling ill and Grapejuice feels helpless, powerless to do anything about it. Seeing Mouser's body in the clearing only drove this home more. Everyone was sick and dying... But it wouldn't be for long. Their cats were off to retrieve the cure, they'd come back and everyone would be okay.

Or so he wants to believe. It was hard to think so positively when staring at the body of someone who just the other day had been alive. Maybe not well, but he was there. He felt small and useless. All he can do is sit nearby and bow his head low, his inner conflict brought to the surface once more.

Skyclan needs him. It needs him more than his twolegs do, now more than ever. The time for him to make a choice was fast approaching, and he still couldn't come to a decision. But looking at the body in front of him, having seen how many of his clanmates were out of commission and now some were off on a journey...His decision was getting a little easier to make.

He just hoped those who left returned at all. It was equally possible that they didn't, and the scene before him awaited them all in time.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Life cuts like a sickle, the smell of death is imminent as Fireflypaw rises to join his mentor in his worship. Lavender is grasped in his jaws, too, but Fireflypaw gives it a shake to spread the scent. It stills on the breeze, haunting blue eyes staring sightlessly towards the direction of the deceased elder. Mouser was intelligent, kind- always willing to aid those who needed it most. Fireflypaw hiccups softly around the lavender in his jaws, setting it behind Mouser's ear to mask the scent of death further.

Take him in kind, Mother. Let him rest in StarClan with the others. He prays silently to the moon above, eyes shutting tightly as he ponders life once more. They couldn't have stopped this- not with how Mother did her duty. Mouser was another victim to this plague, unable to be healed like his friends had been. He lowers his head then, letting others come to mourn the elder in kind.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 13 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[LUPINESONG]

❀‿ Lupinepaw was in and out of sleep that evening, weary from the emotions of having to say goodbye to Bobbie and Cherrypaw earlier, yet too anxious to fall asleep for longer than a few minutes at a time. Silver light from the full moon shone through the branches of the medicine den, and the young girl watched the rise and fall of the flanks of her ailing clanmates. Mouser was one such clanmate, an elder who'd been ailing for many sunrises now. She watched his slow breaths, uneven and unrhythmic as if his body forgot how to inhale every time it exhaled. An inkling of worry crossed her mind, he was so old, and the sickness must have been so hard on him. However, she couldn't spare much more thought toward the elderly tabby, as the heavy tug of exhaustion pulled her under the waves of slumber once more.

She awoke once more to a gut-churning stillness in the air, despite the pair of cats moving about the medicine den. Mouser—or just his body, now—was being carried out of the den, to be placed for viewing in Skyclan camp. Her heart twisted dreadfully at the sight, she had just seen him what seemed to be only a moment ago, sick but alive. Could he have slipped away to Starclan under her nose so easily as she slept ignorantly? "Is he really...?" she murmurs incredulously from her place in the medicine den to no one in particular. She couldn't say it. Heart speeds up, thrumming the pain in her joints and making her lightheaded. Lupinepaw was assaulted with the images of other bodies being carried out and strewn with lavender, of her own pelt covered in that astringent, pleasantly awful scent.

"...St-stars... guide him. Please." The dark molly mumbles. She wouldn't be next, she assures herself. Dawnglare gave her lungwort, and therefore she would be recovering soon. But... hadn't Mouser been given lungwort too?

Lupinepaw sank back into her nest without another word.

JUST LIKE THAT ⊹₊°❀‿ THE MOON GOES FLAT

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — lupinekit . lupinepaw
  — trans she/her. 5mo apprentice of skyclan
  — ??? ; single
  — tall, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
  — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — icon by saturnid, fullbody and chibi by nya
  — penned by eezy

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