sensitive topics WHY DO YOU CRY? ◜♡◞ SHRINE

[BLACKPAW]

| Please wait before @willowroot! / CW : Death mention with mild gore imagery.

She still have the shell that Magpiepaw gave to her.

Someone who had passed away only so soon afterwards.

Death is a familiar thing to Blackkit. What can take tragic forms after complete still bodies and gradual losing lights, at times of unknown causes as such it can steal one's constant breath in their sleep; this was how her mother died. Yet, even then, death doesn't cease while it is never merciless. Like life, death continues and it killed a part of her as well— the weakest in the black ocean. She had seen the grand wild fire and water tearing two felidae groups apart in heavy shower of rain and blood, leaving only herself and her adoptive father the remains within the deepest dark. She knows death in an intimate language of torn flesh and closed eyes and cries to the empty sky.

To lose another, it shouldn't hurt so much at this point.

Yet, she feels and feels and feels—

"I think this robin feather will go well with the flowers you've picked, Dropletkit," came an even toned statement from the bicoloured feline, placing feathers with the pretty pink and purple plants. Willowroot used the flowers that she gathered to weave into Dropletkit's furs. Blackkit had been watching the giver closely, her amber eyes wide in amazement. Her gaze followed their forepaw that nudged a shiny form over... It meant to be for her. "And this shell maybe?" Breaking through the awkwardness of the apprentice with brightest wonder, she slowly reached for the shell and—

Blackkit clings onto the gift to her chest. A choked sob expels from her lowered body. Her teary eyes averts from the sacred space that she created for Magpiepaw as far away from everyone else at a camp corner. Before Blackkit, the surface was covered with reeds, rocks, and shells that were organized neatly in circle with a dead fish placed on the center to create a special atmosphere— these remnants of nature that Magpiepaw can find as delights and comforts at wherever they rest now. Blackkit doesn't know where they are, if there is ever such a kinder place for the dead, but she hopes it is a place that is only full of love.

Greater sorrows roll over her cheeks, the heavy paths of grief that tell the moon and endless stars how much she misses Magpiepaw. They were the second RiverClanner who she met and they're already gone, forever. Blackkit bears the shell deeper into her furs with her breath held back, afraid she will wake the camp from her crying. It's only when she hears the approaching pawsteps, her gaze meets a warrior. Despite the instant recognition, Blackkit quickly bites onto her shell and stands as her frame conceals the decorated space, almost if she's protecting it. Though, the longer she stares at her— Willowroot— Blackkit tears more and a feeble cry leaves her all shattered.

She runs to Willowroot and presses firm against them.

Her body shakes in a begging to be held, only loved.
​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) death is a creature willowroot has long since made peace with. she has accepted it into her chest, allowed it to make a home amongst her ribs and organs, and can feel it there, a heavy weight whenever she thinks of it. clearsight, clayfur, cicadastar, smokestar, mudpelt, buckgait, steepsnout, brookstorm… the list goes on, and with it, a piece of willowroot’s heart shatters. so it is easy to say she’s grappled with death. the weight of grief, on the other paw, is not a thing so easily defeated. even now, she watches a willow-branch weave the wind and finds herself longing for buckgait’s earthen pelt against hers. she hears a terrible pun, and all she wants to do is find clayfur and add it to the man’s repertoire. she watches lichenstar, nobly addressing the clan, and sees cicadastar in his height of glory, sees smokestar roaring out his triumph. watching rivuletkit, algaekit, and redkit squabble and play reminds her so achingly of brookstorm and her siblings. with grief, every day is an echo of the past.

willowroot cannot say she knew magpiepaw well. the black and white cat had, however, been midnightash's best friend, and the smoke can remember many mornings of begging from the two young cats to train together. grief does not creep in as heavily as in past times, but it is still present within the woman, choking and painful. what a short life for one so bright and eager. what a horror for that light to be snuffed.

the death has hit the younger cats of the clan hard, including the kits magpiepaw had once played with. the smoke is sitting with their head bowed, a brief respite before another patrol, when they spot golden fur, dappled through with charcoal. blackkit, crouching furtively in a small corner. concern for the little one ever present in the warrior's mind, willowroot stands, padding softly over. it pains her to see gently shaking shoulders, to hear quiet sobs rip from the small she-kit's chest. "oh little minnow," a feathery tail swishes around to gently brush against the bengal's flank. blackkit clings to a familiar shell, one willowroot had last seen clutched in black and white paws. roughly, the kit stands, tears still staining her fur dark, protectiveness in her stance. the smoke takes in the small shrine, the careful construction of beautiful objects, and her heart breaks just a little.

blackkit stutters, then cries, and dashes to willowroot's side, burying herself in their fur. willowroot's tail curls immediately around her and she bends to gently hug the girl to her chest. "little one," they murmur, body painful with second-hand grief. "magpiepaw is with starclan now, sweet one." despite its age, despite the fact that this is not its time to go. a sandpaper tongue rasps across the kitten's cheek, gently washing away salty tears as they flow. "i'm so sorry, darling."

THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // "#91A26C"
  
• 
  
  
• 
  WILLOWROOT ☾ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING MIDNIGHTPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smoky long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, cut through with dark ghost stripes. friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape, and her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.
  

​

 

[BLACKPAW]

Oh, little minnow.

Blackkit flinches not at the tender touch but the affectionate name, being reminded of another that was made with genuine love despite its roughness across the edges and corners. Little duckling. Just this aching once, she wants to believe she is being comforted by no one but her adoptive father— but he is gone, like everyone else who she had ever loved— "Papa..." A feeble plea falls after Magpiepaw's shell drops to her forepaws that reach as cherishing it whole, only to disappear deep across the lost night when Blackkit remembers she is being held in comfort by her River clanmate, Willowroot. Blue heart flares and more hot tears roll over soaked cheeks. She cries harder.

Nevertheless, she doesn't push Willowroot away from her heavy burning self. Blackkit allows their tail to curl around her shudders and be met with nothing but a warm embrace against the loneliest darkness, all devouring, but this time gradually faltering by the warrior's consolation. She can't remember the last time she had met only the tenderness from the nights when she is famillar with their cruelties of hauntings in dreams and memories. Her shaky forepaws wrap around Willowroot in a returning tight hug and she tries to remind herself this that even with all of these loses, she is not alone. She can never be with the stars across the sky and salt in the sea, with everyone who loves her back.

Her ears flick at a certain detail. She looks up to Willowroot, her amber eyes bearing the saddest constellations. "StarClan...?" The name sounds familiar, but also not at all. The numbness that spreads from her heart, it's difficult for her to be able to recall correctly. She swears she heard about it among with the other Clans during her time with the Golden Hour from the tongues of visiting outsiders and kittypets. Although rather than it being a group of wild lives that hold warrior bloods, StarClan is a home for the fallen warriors whose hearts can reach to the sky. "Will StarClan love Magpiepaw too, as they are loved by RiverClan?" she quietly asks. In these stars, will they find only love?
​