sensitive topics WHEN IT LANDS — death

[Foxpoppy .]

FOXPOPPY —Smiled with the rising sun

The last two moons had been difficult for the elderly molly, that was no secret. Ragwortpaws death took a heavier toll on Foxpoppy than she herself could have ever imagined. Her days consisted of less and leas sunshine, content to rest within the cool quietness of the elders den.
The grief had been heavy, but after some time it had finally begun to heal, just as it has done many times in her life.
By then, though, her injured leg had rested for far too long, the rigorous physical therapy used to manage it neglected, and she was left with limited mobility.
Despite it all, the old molly still found herself content, she still had a doting mate to fall asleep with each night, she was still visited by her many loved ones when they could- she was happy, and wouldn’t let anyone tell her otherwise.
The news of a strange, deadly sickness was concerning, of course, but Foxpoppy had assured herself that she had seen worse, lived through worse.
When the coughing first began in the night, the fever was not long to follow. In a panic, she had cast her mate away from her, refused for anyone to touch her.
She knew she did not have the strength to fight the sickness for long, not as a young warrior would. She knew the stars were not long to bring her home.
When her mind began to collapse on itself, she vowed be brought to Starclan with a clean conscious, her breath had turned to poison, her touch a death sentence- and she would not condemn.
Her last night was spent alone, and she was more than okay with that when the goodbyes from her clanmates and heartfelt words of her loved ones lulled her into her last sleep, her last dream.
The fever burned through her within the course of two sunrises, her lungs unable to cope with the disease that laced them. Still, her passing was peaceful.
When her eyes open again to follow the trail of shimmering stars before her, her pelt is as vibrant as her honey hued optics, no longer freckled with grey, and the scent of the sweet poppies that are weaved within her ginger fur is a soft burst of encouragement. With one last loving look to the land below her, Foxpoppy begins her journey home.


// it’s more likely that she passed from a complication caused by yellow cough rather than the sickness itself, such as a collapsed lung, but it’d be assumed she passed from the sickness!
Foxpoppy is a character I hold very close to my heart, but her story was one that was deeply tied to CC, and that’s where she should have rested, I’ll love her always but it’s time to say goodbye <3

"speech"

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[HOWLINGSTAR]

It is dawn when Howlingstar happens upon the elder. She holds a plump mouse in her jaws, unafraid of the illness that has downed Foxpoppy. She has many lives to spare, she does not need to leave their sick alone in what could possibly be their final moments.

She notices the stillness of the molly immediately. The prey is dropped, grieving tears already pricking her eyes. She is gone, with StarClan, with Ragwortpaw who she had been so close to. The tabby's head hangs heavy below her shoulders, fluffy tail drooping and laying limply against the ground.

With the help of a few others, she is able to move the body to the center of camp where the queens can decorate her body with lavender. Everyone will stay up tonight holding vigil, and they will share memories of the warm-hearted she-cat. But Howlingstar is already gazing at the sky, ears pinned and eyes sorrowful. I pray your journey to the stars was easy, old friend.​

 

[Sunfreckle]

Red tabby head lifts and pokes out of the nursery to the sound of voices murmuring concerns, it does not take long to realize something terrible has happened as he finds Howlingstar's formidable figure against a small crowd of gathered cats by the elder's den and he stiffly pushes himself up to stand and approach. Foxpoppy, he hears whispered sorrowfully from someone and his pace quickens to find the cutting edges of that truth right before his eyes. The bicolor elder is still as stone, looking for all the world as though she simply fell asleep but it was not a rest she would ever rise from again.
Sunfreckle goes to offer his help in moving her but others already volunteer and so he steps back and heads to Berryheart's den to inform him that they would need to once again dip into the supply of lavender he has.
The ginger tom finds he hates the smell of lavender now, what was once a comforting floral scent was now plagued by the memory of death that it clung to. Everytime he had seen this plant, scented its perfume aroma, it was accompanied by a cold body in the center of camp.
"...Foxpoppy is dead." He says simply, tone exhausted, "...Howlingstar's already had her moved to the middle of camp."
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[Ooc]
Bothering @BERRYHEART about vigil prep!
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[BERRYHEART]

Before the illness had struck and most of his time had been taken up simply by worrying, Berryheart had rather enjoyed checking on the elders as a duty. They were fond of talking, and he was fond of listening- a harmonious union. Now, though... he was conscious of what infection might crawl upon his pelt, even if he was not sick himself. He could not risk the lives of the elders- though as Nifty's verdant eyes shone through the mouth of his den, misted with mourning, Berryheart realised that it might not make a difference.

Visibly, the tortoiseshell tom deflated. A heavy sigh pulled from him like silk from a spider, long and thoughtful. A frown, uncharacteristically tangible, settled upon his face. "... Alright. Thank you," he murmured, teeth scraping together with sweeping thought. Act quickly... though, he did not know how easy saying goodbye would be. Scooping up some rosemary, he paused in the motion, mourning beginning to settle on his bones. ​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[LITTLE WOLF]

Foxpoppy had been close to her apprentice. She knows how much the gray-furred she cat had loved to visit and spend time with the elders, knows how she had jumped at every opportunity to hang out with them. Losing Foxpoppy felt like losing another part of her apprentice. There were only so many pieces of her left...

She comes to stand next to her mother, but she makes no move to comfort the stoic leader nor does she speak to her. Howlingstar was gazing up at the sky, no doubt engaged in her own private mourning and so Little Wolf would leave her be. Instead, the dark furred molly looks down on the elder with a sad expression lacing her green eyes, dulled with grief. "May you find rest and good hunting among the stars" she says softly before lowering her nose to press it against the top of the elderly mollies head. Briefly, she wonders if Ragwortpaw had been waiting for her to guide her to her final resting place. It was a nice thought, and Little Wolf holds onto it as she steps away in order to allow others to say goodbye.
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