| Dapplebreeze |
71 Moons - WindClan Fury Lieutenant
Agatha Kitty - Active | Silver Tongue - Active | Killer Aptitude [Tier 3] - Inactive
Dirt encrusted paws led the senior warrior towards the camp, exhaustion clear in her eyes, albeit far from physical. She had kept her composure through it all. Let her darling bird leave this world with a mother she could be proud of. Buried her for the second time in her life. A life that suddenly seemed far too long. Far too empty.
The patched warrior knew she would keep going. She had to. To do otherwise would be to turn a blind eye at all her daughter had given to the clan. At what her son had given up for it. She needed to be strong. To be an example for her precious new grandkits and great-grandkits to look up to. Fond as she was of Snowybreeze and grateful to Bravebird for having helped mend the rift that had been there since before his birth she could admit that he was too soft. His heart was in the right place, but it wasn't hardened to the realities of life as hers had been. Hawkfur was obviously in the same vein of emotion, and yet right now... she couldn't look him in the eye and tell him to keep it together. She hadn't the strength for it.
Dark blues adjusting to the darkness of the warriors' den, Dapplebreeze turned her gaze from left to right, noticing how empty it was. Hawkfur no doubt went to his kittens. Crowtooth... Crowtooth was probably with them. She should be there too, except... she shouldn't. They weren't her kits. They were Hawkfur's. It was his place to talk to them. To ease them into the idea that their mother was never coming back. That her daughter would never step foot in WindClan again. And worst of all, she hadn't a clue if she preferred it this way.
A stumble among the nests, and she found herself falling into one with a familiar scent still in it. Bravebird's old nest. The one she'd used before she had moved to the nursery. It started slow. A pitched gasp as she tried to compose herself. A single tear that went against her demands. A small, low moan of anguish that scrunched up her face and all was lost.
A mournful wail escaped the warrior, all pretense of a hardened heart and pride gone. The first time she had kept herself composed. Ryekit had been too young. She could not crumble under the pressure of losing her only daughter when her youngest son looked up to her still. The second time had been... difficult. She hadn't just lost Bravebird that day, but Ryepaw as well. The fire had devoured any trace of them, and she had let herself waste away. Defeated. All sense of self had been corroded as she simply awaited death to come for her. She had been spared. The medicine cat - an apprentice at the time - had denied her wishes, and forced new life into her. Life that had allowed her to see her precious daughter again. See not only grandkits, but great grandkits as well. And yet now?
The fact that she had lived through her daughter's death thrice still remained. The fact that she would never see her or her sons ever again will forever haunt her. The knowledge that she had outlived all her kits, no matter how hard she had tried to raise them to be strong, magnificent warriors. And they had been. Bravebird had been a force to be reckoned with. Whisperbreeze had as well, his final moment spent in battle, protecting apprentices from the cruel claws of ShadowClan's rats. Ryepaw had been taken too soon to tell, and yet selfishly she clung to the hope that it remained that way.
No more. She had the strength to lose no more of her kittens. The former queen curled up in her daughter's former nest, paws covering her face as she wept, allowing herself this moment of weakness as she found herself away from the prying eyes of her clanmates. Hidden from the view of the stars. She would pick up the pieces. Dapplebreeze refused to fall once more. She would live on, if only to not worry her. To ensure Bravebird remained in Silverpelt. Enjoying the eternal rest she had earned in her short life.
But today? Today she would grieve. She would openly weep in solitude. Not just for her daughter, but for the kits that she'd left behind. For the heart she feared had broken three times too many. Shattered to a point where the pieces could never fully form what it had once been ever again, fragments pushed to the side as they made way for the memory of those who no longer walked WindClan besides her. Because as long as she breathed, they would be a part of WindClan. They would be in her heart. Always.
@
Moonraven [Batglare]
| Gah, excuse the length in this one! I had originally intended for this to be a single post, but after a few power outages, I decided to mix it alongside a similar VA I had planned of her handling her grief if only because it was going to be fairly similar and I did not want to write this for a fifth time. 
Feel free to have Batglare come talk to her now, or notice her and leave if you prefer! Can deal with a timeskip of present time with her after the fact instead. 
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You'll Be In My Heart
