camp WHO LIVES, WHO DIES, WHO TELLS YOUR STORY [vigil]

[Fireflyglow]

It was normal ceremony to wait under the stars all night with the dead, but by the time it was time for a vigil, Fireflyglow could barely take the smell of rotting bodies any longer. Instead, Fireflyglow asked to have the bodies buried for the vigil. Lavender buried with their bodies to help with the scent. As the last mound of dirt was kicked onto the grave, Fireflyglow is a shell of a cat as he stands by the two tom's shared grave. They had buried Dawnglare and Mallowlark in each other's arms, and though many cats didn't notice it- Fireflyglow had slipped in an old birds skull that had been special to the two. A shared secret of adoration and love, proof of their closeness. A gift that only the two of them could understand.

"Dawnglare wasn't liked by everyone, I'll admit. He was a bit eccentric at times, and could be childish on others. But what we can't deny is that he served his Clan dutifully and faithfully, healing those who needed it. So let us remember him that way." Fireflyglow spoke softly, curling his tail tighter around his exhausted, drained form. "Mallowlark was a.. strange tom. He had odd tastes for the obscene, the dark and gory. Bones of relics. But he too was faithful to SkyClan. And he died protecting Dawnglare, I know this. He was a good tom, misunderstood, yet good." He hiccups softly, snot beginning to dribble from his nose.

"Now go forward and pay your respects to the dead, as She claims their bodies and their souls walk amongst the stars." He croaks, his forehead pressing to the ground in front of the graves as if to pray to Her below. Take care of them, please.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 27 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[KITESTORM]

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Kite did not need to know Dawnglare and Mallowlark well to see they completed each other, that their fates were tied together by invisible strings which brought them together in life and would reunite each other in death. Or so Kite could only hope for, and beg for. For if the two kindred spirits beneath the layers of dirt could not find themselves in starry fields above, what would it mean for the lives Kite ripped from those two Shadowclanners a lifetime ago (or what it feels like).

They remain statuesque beside Florabreeze, shrunk against her flank as they listen solemnly to Fireflyglow's eulogy. Is it selfish, Kite wonders, to mourn those lives they took in this other lifetime as all those who surround the grave grieve for Dawnglare and Mallowlark? They know so. Yet they can not shake the image of those bodies wrapped together in death despite their best efforts. The image of the two toms in their final resting place echoed what Kite had done, as they were buried the guilt of what Kite did was unburied.

The dark tabby presses her cheek against Florabreeze's shoulder and shudders as Fireflyglow finishes speaking. It is only then when that Kite snaps to it and rips their gaze from the burial site and shifts it to Fireflyglow. The tom, so visibly full of sorrow and what Kite knows to be guilt, presses his forehead against the disturbed earth. The sight brings another swell of emotion to Kite's throat which they must swallow back. He does not deserve to carry so much guilt. It is not fair. ​

YOU'VE OPENED THE GATES ╔═══《✧》═══╗ NOW FACE THE OTHER SIDE

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  KITESTORM
  — a black tabby with a small stature and compact muscles. they're perceptive & clever and very in touch with clanmates. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable. very soft spoken and careful with their words.
  ✧ 39, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC
  ✧ speech

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[DOEBLAZE]

Grief. She has conquered it before, and she knows, she must know, that she can do it again—but that cannot stop the hurt. Wings expand painfully in the closed space of her chest, sharp quills digging into the soft meat of her and making each breath splinter. A thinly healed scar peeling open anew. She had not thought she would grieve so greatly for those she loathed—but perhaps it is the loathing that makes it hurt so. How many times had she conspired with Dawnglare over how to extend Blazestar's lives, and how many times had she squabbled with him over his death? Tugging like two dogs at a bone, they had been. She feels left behind, finding that the bone is too heavy to bear on her own.

The vigil is a small comfort, and she cloisters herself amidst her loved ones, gathering her children close to her like baby chicks to a hen. Afraid she might lose them too, stars forbid it—she loves them too much to grieve them, knows the pain left behind from the love unspoken would be too great. Let me die first, she prays, if only to spare myself this grief again. StarClan, I'm not strong enough. I'm saying it now.

" I'm going to go up. " She presses her nose to the delicate shell of one of her children's ears, feeling shaky but slightly stabilized by the purpose of the action as she steps past a silent Kite. Sharing a mournful glance with Fireflyglow and brushing her shoulder gently against his as she passes, she finds herself suddenly in front of the graves. Bringing herself to dip and press her nose to the grave feels sacrilegious, as if she intrudes on something, so she merely lets her paws brush freshly mounded dirt. She has always felt through them anyways.

" I hope he came to guide you. I hope you walk with him now. " Her voice is kept low, so quiet it's nearly a whisper. Meant for nobody but the twinkling stars. It's strange, the magnitude of this waxing grief; as if she grieves Blazestar all over again. Another of the cats he had touched with his light, wiped so messily from the earth, taking his slice of memories with him. Entangled together in the embrace that had shattered a friendship, one she dearly hopes is mended now. " I hope things are ... better, there. I hope you're happy together. "

It's not quite grief, but a mournful sort of hope. A wish that things are better, that the love that had warmed their whole Clan envelops the two of them now. That for all the cold dark places left behind on earth, there is a doubling of light and warmth above. She sighs, a shudder of a thing, and retreats to the faceless crowd once more.

OOC : —

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[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft sits quietly at the edge of the vigil, her paws pressed firmly into the earth as Fireflyglow speaks. The words flit through her tufted ears, soft and hollow, as if grief has numbed all feeling in her. As a queen it had been her duty to help with the burial. She'd placed the lavender with care, dirtied her paws with soil as they covered the bodies of Dawnglare and Mallowlark. She could, regrettably, barely look at them. The sight of the two bodies, intertwined in both life and death, had been almost too much to bear. She doesn't know if her respect for Dawnglare had ever blossomed into true admiration, but she can't deny that he had been an integral part of SkyClan, someone who had healed and served his clanmates since the beginning, even if his ways were strange. He'd been a constant in her life since she was a kit. Mallowlark, too, had been odd - frightening at most times - but loyal to SkyClan. The bond between them had been undeniable, and she hopes that peace finds them both in the afterlife.

When the medicine cat's voice breaks with emotion, she wants to go to him to offer comfort, but she hesitates. What can she say? What could she possibly do that could ease his sorrow? Dawnglare had been his mentor, the same way Blazestar had been hers, and there wasn't much anyone could say when he died that comforted her. So instead, she lowers her head as she steps forward. Her feathery tail brushes gently against Fireflyglow's side as she passes him, a quiet gesture of support. She doesn't know if he even feels it, though.

Standing before the graves, the fresh earth still soft beneath her paws, the tortoiseshell closes her eyes. StarClan, guide them, She silently prays. Give them good hunting and warmer days. She doesn't speak aloud - she's never been one for public speaking - but the words ring clear in her mind.

With a soft sigh escaping her, she steps back and turns away to find her place once more in the silent crowd, where she lets the tears that had threatened to spill finally fall. She can't stay long - the queen must get back to camp soon to watch over the kits. But she will stay and grieve just a little longer before she slips away to her nest.
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