Thrushfur came upon the scenery of the willow tree with Brightpaths body in his jaws. He huffed as he trudged up a hill to meet the weeping tree. He settled the body near its roots, seeing the previous warriors at the clearing grieving for Brightpath. Her corpse was cold and still like a rock in Leaf-bare. Hidden under the snowy blanket, never to be seen again. And that was the job Sparrowstar had given him. He looked toward the grieving warriors with sympathy. A close friend of his has died just as Brightpath has. He still had a clear image of that day and that rouge out in the forest, causing trouble. If he wasn't vengeful, what type of friend would he look like?
...
He gave the warriors some time to grieve and give their condolences to the corpse. Then went to drag Brightpaths body by the scruff, unsheathing his claws to rake up dirt from the ground. As he started digging to make a grave for her body. As soon as that was finished, he gently grabbed Brightpaths body by the scruff and placed her into the grave. Her still body was there in front of his eyes, he murmured a few words under his breath. Then whipped around to kick dirt into the grave, covering and splattering her body with dirt sprinkles. When the corpse was fully covered, he grabbed a flower.
Plucking it out of the ground, it was vibrant and white. But the stem was wilted with the incoming cold weather. Placing it onto the warrior's flattened dirt grave. He dipped his head, going to a small corner to continue to observe the cats.
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[ edited this to also add Wildsparks body, totally forgot! ]
Thrushfur came back to drag Wildsparks body towards Willows Rise. He heaved as he dropped the body, a shallow breath escaping him. Now what was he doing all by himself dragging two! bodies with tedious methods. He glanced towards the corpse with shame and doubtfulness. He couldn’t believe that their clan might continue to see death with every passing moon. They might even become accustomed to the culture of death themselves! He twitched a brow, his paws already dirty from the dirt of digging Brightpaths grave. He unsheathed his claws and began to rake up dirt. Making more steady movements.
As the grave was done, he felt like his pelt was burning despite the chilling wind. He groaned as he turned around to grab the corpse, dragging it into the grave. Pushing it with his dirty paws, watching the body limply fall into the dirt hole. His eyes narrowed, blue eyes dimly fell into a trance of sadness. Then began to fill the hole with dirt, as dirt patches flew onto the corpse. Finally being filled up. He flattened the surface with his paw. Glancing over to Brightpaths grave, he looked around for the same white flower. Plucking it from the ground, placing it onto Wildsparks grave.
He murmured a short few words towards the body. Then set down near the tree to catch his breath. As he began to groom the dirt off his paws..
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My willpower is fighting waves!
Last edited by Eaglet; September 30th, 2022 at 06:47 AM.
Bumblebee - Bumbleflight @Ritsuka
Bumblebee sat in silence beside her clanmate. Lowing her orange cream tabby head in respect for Brightpath. The she-cat curled her fluffy tail under her front paws.
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Taking a hiatus. Read Ocs for more. Dragons Ocs Finder
The one-time Willowpaw thought Frostheart was an elder.
Last edited by Whitewillow; September 30th, 2022 at 11:39 AM.
The fresh-ish grave of Cindersky was in Cloudyflight's peripheral vision, but the broken molly was ignoring it for the moment. She shot Thrushfur a glare through hollow, heartbroken eyes. The tom hadn't considered how hard it would be for her to keep up, she could barely see straight as she stumbled along, her empty feeling chest aching in her heart as she veered off track to pluck a small cluster of wild sunflowers, similar to the blossom that her love had presented her with when they first became mates.
But when she came back, a horrifying scene was before her. Thrushfur was filling in a grave. Brightpath's grave. "Stop!" She gasped, running forward on her three legs, the sunflowers left forgotten on the ground, as she watched the warrior back away from the filled in grave. "No-" A furious, despairing surge came over her, and she snarled, aiming to shove the warrior away. She never got a chance to say goodbye. She never got to breathe in their scent one last time. Because Thrushfur took her mate's body away from her in the clearing and buried her love before she got a chance to try and get closure.
Her heartwrenching pain was both clear in her expression, a twisted gaping, tear streaked mess of a cat who had lost everything. Attempting another shove to get this imbecile away from the freshly filled in grave. "You heartless, disgusting piece of crap!" She snarled, claws ripping into the ground as she tried to keep her claws in the earth and out of this scum's eyeholes. "This cat was the love of my life, the cat I grew up with from kithood and the cat that I was ready to start a family with. You didn't even THINK about waiting for me, did you?! You just buried my love, and I never got to breathe in her scent for the last time or say goodbye or say ANYTHING or help with anything. You took them away from me when I was still grieving in the clearing, dug their grave as I struggled to walk or even see straight, then buried them as I gathered flowers that I wanted to bury with them."
Her lucid, empty gaze swiveled to the flowers on the ground, and with a furious sob, she aimed yet another shove at Thrushfur, this time her claws couldn't be retracted. If they pierced his flesh, good. He deserved it. He was lucky she wasn't gouging his eyes out and tearing him limb from limb. "You are a vile, selfish piece of crowfood. You only thought about how carrying out these orders directly from your leader would serve you with a higher standing. Anything you said in honor of my beloved can be shoved straight up your ass on your way out of my vicinity." Shaking, the molly blindly stumbled over to her blossoms, bent over and scooped it up, dropping the gently on her love's grave, bending over so that she was resting right beside the mound of dirt, nose touching the cold, soft earth covering the body of her beloved. soft, hushed sobs emitted from the silver and white she-cat.
"I.... You were always there for me." She whispered, voice wet and coming out as a series of choked sobs. "Even when we were kits.... y-you were with me in the elder's den with Lostflower and we were apprentices together and.... and you helped me a lot w-when things got hard... l-like when my parents were exiled, and during the Firefly Cove Battle and the times afterwards. You never did tell me what happened there with you, though. A-and during the pride event..." Her gaze traveled to Cindersky's grave and she sobbed again, aloud. "You said it all so beautifully... and I wouldn't change a thing." Stroking the golden petals of the flowers she had adorned the mound with, her voice broke. "I guess it's too late to tell you... b-but I wanted to have kits. I wanted us to have babies of our own, a family of our own. They would have been beautiful."
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she felt her lip tremble. "Damn it Brightpath.... it's going to be so hard without you. I feel like you... you were the light, my sun, and now... now it's all dark. I don't know where I'm going anymore. I had a path in front of me, and it was beautiful. We were going to have lots of kits, a big family of our own.... th-then we were going to spend our warriorhood loving each other and our family and then grow old together and tell stories to kits like Lostflower did to us.... and now that path is gone. I've lost my way, my love. It wasn't supposed to be like this." Weeping into her paws, shaking violently, she sobbed and sobbed. No, Cloudyflight wouldn't leave the grave's side tonight.
She might now ever leave, actually. Everything she had was right below her, in the cold dirt.
The fresh-ish grave of Cindersky was in Cloudyflight's peripheral vision, but the broken molly was ignoring it for the moment. She shot Thrushfur a glare through hollow, heartbroken eyes. The tom hadn't considered how hard it would be for her to keep up, she could barely see straight as she stumbled along, her empty feeling chest aching in her heart as she veered off track to pluck a small cluster of wild sunflowers, similar to the blossom that her love had presented her with when they first became mates.
But when she came back, a horrifying scene was before her. Thrushfur was filling in a grave. Brightpath's grave. "Stop!" She gasped, running forward on her three legs, the sunflowers left forgotten on the ground, as she watched the warrior back away from the filled in grave. "No-" A furious, despairing surge came over her, and she snarled, aiming to shove the warrior away. She never got a chance to say goodbye. She never got to breathe in their scent one last time. Because Thrushfur took her mate's body away from her in the clearing and buried her love before she got a chance to try and get closure.
Her heartwrenching pain was both clear in her expression, a twisted gaping, tear streaked mess of a cat who had lost everything. Attempting another shove to get this imbecile away from the freshly filled in grave. "You heartless, disgusting piece of crap!" She snarled, claws ripping into the ground as she tried to keep her claws in the earth and out of this scum's eyeholes. "This cat was the love of my life, the cat I grew up with from kithood and the cat that I was ready to start a family with. You didn't even THINK about waiting for me, did you?! You just buried my love, and I never got to breathe in her scent for the last time or say goodbye or say ANYTHING or help with anything. You took them away from me when I was still grieving in the clearing, dug their grave as I struggled to walk or even see straight, then buried them as I gathered flowers that I wanted to bury with them."
Her lucid, empty gaze swiveled to the flowers on the ground, and with a furious sob, she aimed yet another shove at Thrushfur, this time her claws couldn't be retracted. If they pierced his flesh, good. He deserved it. He was lucky she wasn't gouging his eyes out and tearing him limb from limb. "You are a vile, selfish piece of crowfood. You only thought about how carrying out these orders directly from your leader would serve you with a higher standing. Anything you said in honor of my beloved can be shoved straight up your ass on your way out of my vicinity." Shaking, the molly blindly stumbled over to her blossoms, bent over and scooped it up, dropping the gently on her love's grave, bending over so that she was resting right beside the mound of dirt, nose touching the cold, soft earth covering the body of her beloved. soft, hushed sobs emitted from the silver and white she-cat.
"I.... You were always there for me." She whispered, voice wet and coming out as a series of choked sobs. "Even when we were kits.... y-you were with me in the elder's den with Lostflower and we were apprentices together and.... and you helped me a lot w-when things got hard... l-like when my parents were exiled, and during the Firefly Cove Battle and the times afterwards. You never did tell me what happened there with you, though. A-and during the pride event..." Her gaze traveled to Cindersky's grave and she sobbed again, aloud. "You said it all so beautifully... and I wouldn't change a thing." Stroking the golden petals of the flowers she had adorned the mound with, her voice broke. "I guess it's too late to tell you... b-but I wanted to have kits. I wanted us to have babies of our own, a family of our own. They would have been beautiful."
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she felt her lip tremble. "Damn it Brightpath.... it's going to be so hard without you. I feel like you... you were the light, my sun, and now... now it's all dark. I don't know where I'm going anymore. I had a path in front of me, and it was beautiful. We were going to have lots of kits, a big family of our own.... th-then we were going to spend our warriorhood loving each other and our family and then grow old together and tell stories to kits like Lostflower did to us.... and now that path is gone. I've lost my way, my love. It wasn't supposed to be like this." Weeping into her paws, shaking violently, she sobbed and sobbed. No, Cloudyflight wouldn't leave the grave's side tonight.
She might now ever leave, actually. Everything she had was right below her, in the cold dirt.
Thrushfur felt the shove, hearing the savage curses that were thrown in his direction. It was the last part of curses that really got to his heart, was he really following the orders Sparrowstar set for him to carry out? Yes. Yes he was. Did he want a higher standing? Never. But it is a cats dream to even become leader. The only thing he ever dreamed for was a simple life-style. But becoming the topic of.. such vile words. It hurt his heart, but he felt a silent surge of irritation build upon his pelt. I was doing the right thing wasn't I? If she wants to grieve then she could just dig up the grave of that corpse and get a l-! He stopped himself from venting out.
He twitched a brow, seeing the senior warrior walk past him. It was sudden, but also expected to receive this kind of reaction. His heart was stone cold towards these sort of things, of course he wasn't accustomed to death - this whole situation was just.. a bit out of his bubble border. He bit his bottom lip, a scornful expression plastered on his face. Was he supposed to be like this towards others? His pupils lessened to small slits. Now as he heard the tearful sobs of the warrior, his heart felt.. empty. Hypocrisy was getting to him, like a snake preparing to vengully bite at his ankle, slithering with only the ground driving him into a trance.
He would accept all those words, if the warrior would hate him moons after moons, decades after decades, centuries after centuries. He would never be angry. He could never be angry. He dug his eyes into the she-cats back, slit like the lustrous gaunt tips of a claw. During this whole thing, he stayed silent. If his heart wasn't provoked, then his being wasn't. That was just the way it was. He smiled for others, yes. Isn't that nice? But with death, smiling is prohibited. As if the scent of it simply could shut him up. He sighed, coldy turning his back towards the warrior to report to Sparrowstar. Halting in his track ready to bound down the hill, he said this. "If you wish to dig your claws into me, first fight the battle with yourself. Or the outside world will be your only enemy. Your eyes are clouded by tears, I know. You probably want to mince me into crowfood, let that hate grow until the day I die. Have it be by your own paws or simply from nature."
He said these words also for himself, his inner being. You can't fully stop someone from hating you. Even if they were to become your bestest friend, they would still have a small bold light of hate in their soul ready to pounce out. It was natural for someone to completely hate someone for the experiences they had to suffer with. With a small waltz, he trotted down the hill. As if nothing had happened that day.
[ if cloudyflight was thrushfurs biggest hater, I would let it happen lol ]
Cloudspots came to a slow halt before the large, swooping willow tree that designated Willow’s Rise. The area was very close to ThunderClan’s camp, so close that the Thunderwillow towered close by. There were several areas of freshly-dug dirt here and there, signifying where the recently deceased had been buried.
He glanced down at Ashpaw. “This is Willow’s Rise,” he said quietly. “We bury our fallen here. The marks in the willow represent the sacrifice that the fallen have given in service to our Clan. It’s important for us to be quiet and respectful here. Any cat can visit whenever they want, as long as they don’t disturb anyone else who is here to grieve.”
Fadingstar is currently RiverClan's leader. He has an open den policy; his den can be found here. If you have any questions or concerns about RiverClan, or any plots to propose, feel free to leave me a VM or DM! Please do not take my characters' IC opinions as reflective of my own.
Ashpaw (he/him) Light grey tabby with blue/grey eyes
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Willow's Rise? That was a name every cat in Thunderclan knew, even kits. But Ashpaw had never come here; he didn't have a reason, and he was too young to have witnessed death in battle.
Piles of dirt marked the graves of dead clanmates. Was Cindersky there? The former Thunderclan leader had died in a badger attack, but Ashpaw hadn't followed the others where they buried her. He could still remember the miserable sorrow of Nectarflame, her mate, when her body was brought back to camp.
Ashpaw nodded to the warrior, determined not to appear disrespectful in a place like this.
Careful not to step on any grave, he followed silently Cloudspots through the glade. This is a nice spot for burying our clanmates. He reflected. The sun reached the ground and warms it, so that no one lay in the cold shadows. And the willows... he stared fascinated at their sagging branches and twisted trunks, towering like weeping guardians for the lost ones, forever.
Cloudspots himself was wondering which of these graves Cindersky was buried in. He hadn’t attended the dead leader’s burial; he’d been sick with some sort of stomach illness at the time. He wished he could’ve been there, but he figured vomiting during a funeral was in bad taste.
Sometime, he’d have to ask someone which grave was Cindersky’s. He wanted to pay his respects to the former leader. Even if Cindersky hadn’t been the best for ThunderClan, their heart had always been in the right place. At least, in Cloudspots’s opinion it had.
Slowly, he rose to his paws. He silently gestured to Ashpaw to follow him out of Willow’s Rise. He didn’t want to speak any more than what was necessary.
Fadingstar is currently RiverClan's leader. He has an open den policy; his den can be found here. If you have any questions or concerns about RiverClan, or any plots to propose, feel free to leave me a VM or DM! Please do not take my characters' IC opinions as reflective of my own.
Quick, skittering pawsteps carried Mistheart away from camp in an almost zigzagging pattern. Entirely unfocused, the young warrior was humming a tune and meandering through the woods in an attempt to escape the somewhat stifling reality she found herself trapped in these days. Half of her littermates had disappeared off to who knows where... She hadn't even seen them around camp very much beforehand, but now... Now it was just her and Cloudyflight. Two very different cats who just happened to be tied together by blood. Even with Cloudy still in camp, Mistheart had been terrified to approach her. The loss of Brightpath was... horrendous, but her sister seemed a shell of a cat since her death.
The smaller grey molly had tiptoed around her, trying to give her space to grieve and merely exist in the warriors den while she wandered out to search for treasures, but this whole situation had simply solidified the fact that things were much easier to deal with than other cats. No one would catch her grieving for a deceased mate, no siree. Leave her with her pebbles and feathers and she'd be perfectly fine.
White paws paused their meandering route once she spotted the telltale willow that marked her clan's gravesite.
When was the last time she'd been here? Not since... well probably not since her training when Larkstorm showed her around their territory. Carefully she crept into the clearing under the willow, glancing around to make sure she wasn't disturbing anybody. Thank fully, no mourners seemed to be present so she picked up the pace and trotted into the clearing to poke around. Perhaps there would be interesting things that she could find here.
Pink nose sniffed around each grave (morbidly curious if she could tell the difference between buried cats, however all she could smell was dirt), before coming to one that looked partially dug up. Tilting her head at the odd circumstance, Mistheart quickly evaluated whether that was... normal??? It seemed so out of place next to the other tidy gravesites. What if she just...
Quick paws scrapped the dirt back into place, scooping dirt back into the hole and carefully patting down the soil until the upturned earth was flat and undisturbed once again. Giving a rather satisfied hum, the young warrior briefly glanced around the clearing to see if anything else seemed out of place... Oh, yup. That one looked a right mess.
And so, Mistheart spent her thinking time moving from grave to grave, tidying up wilted flowers, patting down disturbed soil, and sweeping leaves away from visible graves. This was... oddly fulfilling work. Almost as good as collecting new trinkets for herself. Finally making it to the other side of the clearing, she stepped back to survey her efforts with a pleased little grin before padding over to the symbolic willow itself. There were a few cobwebs gathering around the roots... Perhaps Sundust would appreciate some more stock!
Snatching up a nearby twig that she had cleared from the clearing, Mistheart carefully wound up each cobweb that she spotted before turning back to camp. Perhaps she would come out here more often... This clearing was rather peaceful, and taking care of her peer's resting places brought her a sense of calm that she hadn't experienced for moons now... But no matter.
Quickly skittering back to camp with her small bundle of webs, the small grey warrior finally seemed to be more focused and relaxed than she had ever been before...
[ Closed for interactions, however cats are welcome to observe her odd little tasks as she left ]
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“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
note: cloudy has been kind of wasting away since her mates death in leaf fall, and she finally has gotten to the point where she can barely walk now. she isn't dead in this post, though, for reference!
☁︎ Cloudyflight ☁︎
Cloudyflight was pathetic. She knew it. She had spent the majority of her youth training to be a killer, training to withstand any pain that the world may throw at her. But this pain.... Starla hadn't prepared her for this. The abuse and starvation and confinement hadn't made her ready for the intense agony, the hopeless loss of the love of her life. She had been told, life goes on, but she didn't want it to. Life without Brightpath was empty. Meaningless. She wanted to have him back. She wanted them to have a family. she wanted to sit by her in the elders den seasons and seasons from now, but all that was ripped away. Torn away, mangled like the twoleg crap mangled her beloveds throat.
Collapsing beside her mate's grave, she tried not to thing of the pain Thrushfur had cause her by cheating her put of the closure that she so desperately desired. Burying her mate without letting her breath in their scent one more time. Without letting her hold them. But right now, she couldn't even allow herself to cling to the hatred she had felt for Thrushfur. she let go, and instead let out a long, weak cry of grief. Cloudy was so tired. So tired.
The world had broken her, finally broken her. She was broken. She was too weak, too exhausted to keep going. Why should she? Pointless, meaningless life.
Someone who stumbled upon the starved, depressed molly could easily mistake her for a skeleton, almost every bone showing through her thin, unkempt snowy fur. The molly had taken hours to inch her way out here, hardly able to hold her head up, she rested it on the grave, too tired to cry, to tired to cry out, to tired to make it back to camp, much less leave the burial ground. Who would care, anyways? They'd just let her rot here, too wrapped up in their own happy lives to bury her, and instead just let her bones sink into the ground, laying on top of Brightpaths corpse.
So she just lay there, hopelessly, in the cold. This wasn't a bad place to die. She was close to Brightpath. And no one would care anyways. Why even try anymore.
Re: Willow's Rise
