Post by Taxx on Apr 18, 2019 20:07:34 GMT -5
It had been a sleepless couple of nights. The effects of the avalanche had almost completely faded by now; the snow had melted- revealing Mink’s body, which had received proper burial- and allowing them to resume their hunts in the mountains once more. Hunger had been avoided and no further deaths had come…
But where Dusk, Storm, and Moon had recovered and continued their duties, Green had not. There had been a slight period when he thought she might; she had been alert and talking, but clearly in pain still, despite all the treatments he tried. And then, three days ago, she had begun again to decline. A fever gripped her and she had been sliding in and out of consciousness, and even when awake seemed barely able to recognize anyone. It had to be the leg, Skyteller hissed to himself as he chewed leaves and berries into a paste that he managed to coax the old cat to swallow, and hoped desperately that it would do good.
But if it was something else, he didn’t know what. All outer injuries had healed, leaving just the broken leg, and some illness he was fighting a losing battle against. Settling beside the cave-guard, pressing his pelt to hers to offer company, he watched, waited, and prayed.
Dawn’s dim light found him dozing, nodding off time and again before jerking back awake, eyes stretched wide for a moment before sliding closed again. The movement at his side, though, as Green stirred, pulled him back once more.
Her eyes were open, and bright- no, he realized, they were glazed. Her skin was still too hot under her fur, and the brief moment of hope was squashed. “Skyteller,” she croaked, her throat sounding horribly dry despite the tom’s attempts to keep her hydrated. “I don’t feel very well.”
“You’ve been sick,” he replied, gently pressing his nose to her cheek before rising. “I’ll get you some water and a sunflower leaf. Chew the leaf first- it will help your fever…”
“No, Skyteller.” She cut him off, eyes closed in a slow blink when he looked back, and her gaze softened at the abrupt sorrow in his expression. “You’ve done enough. There’s nothing more that will help.”
“You don’t know that!” He bit back the desire to yowl the words, to beg her not to give up yet, and he grabbed a ball of moss, hurtling from the small annex out to the pool of water next to the cave’s entrance. He came back a short moment later and set it down by Green’s muzzle. “Drink. Please. It… you’ll feel better for it.”
“Stubborn,” she sighed, half-teasing but half-annoyed. She obeyed, though, pushing herself up and reaching out a shaking paw to press the moss flat, lapping up the water that seeped out. Pain flashed across her face at the soreness in her throat, and the ache as she jarred her broken leg, and she stopped after just a few heartbeats, sliding back to her side with a deep groan. “Is River around?” she asked a moment later.
Skyteller opened his mouth to reply, but another voice broke in from the entrance of the alcove. “I’m here.” The brown tabby slid forward, sharing a quick glance with Skyteller before settling at her sister’s side. “Can we have a moment, please, Skyteller?”
The ginger tom dipped his head and turned to pad into the main cave, where most of the Tribe were awake and staring. There was silence, just the soft murmur of voices of the sisters, until the tiny voice of their youngest member broke it, sitting close beside her father. “Is Green dying?”
He couldn’t speak, but he nodded, and the sudden undercurrent of noise broke around him. Skyteller glanced around at the small group- not one of the cave-guards, himself included, had grown up not knowing her- her hard lessons, her pushing, her temper. As to-bes they feared making her unhappy; as cave-guards they understood why she was so harsh. She had to be, to keep them alive, to make them understand the dangerous world they lived in. And now…
Paws scraped the stone behind him and he turned to see Green, with River beside her, slowly limping toward them; quickly, the Tribe drew back to give her space. As she reached the middle of the cave, though, Lily appeared again, her jaws stuffed full of moss which she dropped, her eyes wide. “It’s soft,” she murmured. “The stone’s so hard…”
Green purred, and ignored the sudden flurry as others scattered to copy the young to-be’s actions. “Thank you, young one. It’s much appreciated.” She waited, swaying a bit, with River steadying her while others returned with moss from their own nests, pushed and molded together to make a large one for Green. Slowly she stepped into it, collapsed, and let out a deep sigh.
“She’s seeing Whisper,” River muttered into Skyteller’s ear, and the look they shared was both foreboding and full of pain. Whisper. One of Green’s closest friends before the cave-in… which had claimed the small black she-cat’s life. Skyteller’s eyes squeezed shut, but a moment later he stepped forward and bowed his head to Green.
“You’ll be missed.” He spoke the words firmly, ignoring the slightest quiver in his voice, and further accolades came as the Tribe gathered in a circle around their Tribemate.
“Before we go further- who has been leading the cave-guards?” Green asked, craning her head around to the sturdy group.
“Me,” Storm replied, stepping forward, and he looked relieved when Green gave a nod.
“Good,” the old cat answered, and with a small shuffle she settled deeper into the nest.
For the rest of the day, the Tribe remained within the cave, sharing moments they recalled with the old cat, some funny, some sad, but no cat made mention of the old she-cat’s condition- nor did Skyteller offer more herbs. She had made her choice, and he would honor it.
Toward late afternoon, when it was obvious her fever and pain was getting worse, he made a mix of poppy seeds and aspen buds. He offered it, explained what it was, and was glad when she ate. And then she slept, deeper and deeper until her last breath, loud in the complete silence.
Skyteller gazed down at her, and breathed in. And he smelled the familiar scent of his mate, though she had been gone for many moons, mixed with that of his son and daughter, his mother and father. He saw the Clan cats’ eyes widen, wondered who they were visited by- saw Lily jerk in surprise and lift a paw to her cheek.
It was over too quickly. Regret and sorrow clutched at him, sharp as the day he’d lost them, but he swallowed and lifted his chin. “From her first breath until her last, Shimmer of Green Leaves lived for the Tribe. In her death, she looks over us all. Long may she be remembered.”
“May she never be forgotten,” the Tribe answered back, and then one by one they approached the lifeless she-cat, pressing their noses into her fur for a moment before stepping back for others. When every cat had had their turn, River, Roar, and Leaf approached. As her kin, they would select the spot where she would be buried, and not until they were satisfied would she be laid to rest.
As a whole, the Tribe followed, to watch. The to-bes were kept close, and the cave-guards watched as usual, but nobody else interfered with the three as they searched. But, when they had made their choice, they stood back- and the cave-guards took their turn to dig the hole. Once deep enough, River stepped forward to lower her sister into the hole, and the prey-hunters moved to cover her up. Leaf, with a sprig of leaves she’d taken from a bush, stepped forward to lay it over the grave gently.
A long moment passed, full of silence, and then the Tribe turned away to return to the cave.
But where Dusk, Storm, and Moon had recovered and continued their duties, Green had not. There had been a slight period when he thought she might; she had been alert and talking, but clearly in pain still, despite all the treatments he tried. And then, three days ago, she had begun again to decline. A fever gripped her and she had been sliding in and out of consciousness, and even when awake seemed barely able to recognize anyone. It had to be the leg, Skyteller hissed to himself as he chewed leaves and berries into a paste that he managed to coax the old cat to swallow, and hoped desperately that it would do good.
But if it was something else, he didn’t know what. All outer injuries had healed, leaving just the broken leg, and some illness he was fighting a losing battle against. Settling beside the cave-guard, pressing his pelt to hers to offer company, he watched, waited, and prayed.
Dawn’s dim light found him dozing, nodding off time and again before jerking back awake, eyes stretched wide for a moment before sliding closed again. The movement at his side, though, as Green stirred, pulled him back once more.
Her eyes were open, and bright- no, he realized, they were glazed. Her skin was still too hot under her fur, and the brief moment of hope was squashed. “Skyteller,” she croaked, her throat sounding horribly dry despite the tom’s attempts to keep her hydrated. “I don’t feel very well.”
“You’ve been sick,” he replied, gently pressing his nose to her cheek before rising. “I’ll get you some water and a sunflower leaf. Chew the leaf first- it will help your fever…”
“No, Skyteller.” She cut him off, eyes closed in a slow blink when he looked back, and her gaze softened at the abrupt sorrow in his expression. “You’ve done enough. There’s nothing more that will help.”
“You don’t know that!” He bit back the desire to yowl the words, to beg her not to give up yet, and he grabbed a ball of moss, hurtling from the small annex out to the pool of water next to the cave’s entrance. He came back a short moment later and set it down by Green’s muzzle. “Drink. Please. It… you’ll feel better for it.”
“Stubborn,” she sighed, half-teasing but half-annoyed. She obeyed, though, pushing herself up and reaching out a shaking paw to press the moss flat, lapping up the water that seeped out. Pain flashed across her face at the soreness in her throat, and the ache as she jarred her broken leg, and she stopped after just a few heartbeats, sliding back to her side with a deep groan. “Is River around?” she asked a moment later.
Skyteller opened his mouth to reply, but another voice broke in from the entrance of the alcove. “I’m here.” The brown tabby slid forward, sharing a quick glance with Skyteller before settling at her sister’s side. “Can we have a moment, please, Skyteller?”
The ginger tom dipped his head and turned to pad into the main cave, where most of the Tribe were awake and staring. There was silence, just the soft murmur of voices of the sisters, until the tiny voice of their youngest member broke it, sitting close beside her father. “Is Green dying?”
He couldn’t speak, but he nodded, and the sudden undercurrent of noise broke around him. Skyteller glanced around at the small group- not one of the cave-guards, himself included, had grown up not knowing her- her hard lessons, her pushing, her temper. As to-bes they feared making her unhappy; as cave-guards they understood why she was so harsh. She had to be, to keep them alive, to make them understand the dangerous world they lived in. And now…
Paws scraped the stone behind him and he turned to see Green, with River beside her, slowly limping toward them; quickly, the Tribe drew back to give her space. As she reached the middle of the cave, though, Lily appeared again, her jaws stuffed full of moss which she dropped, her eyes wide. “It’s soft,” she murmured. “The stone’s so hard…”
Green purred, and ignored the sudden flurry as others scattered to copy the young to-be’s actions. “Thank you, young one. It’s much appreciated.” She waited, swaying a bit, with River steadying her while others returned with moss from their own nests, pushed and molded together to make a large one for Green. Slowly she stepped into it, collapsed, and let out a deep sigh.
“She’s seeing Whisper,” River muttered into Skyteller’s ear, and the look they shared was both foreboding and full of pain. Whisper. One of Green’s closest friends before the cave-in… which had claimed the small black she-cat’s life. Skyteller’s eyes squeezed shut, but a moment later he stepped forward and bowed his head to Green.
“You’ll be missed.” He spoke the words firmly, ignoring the slightest quiver in his voice, and further accolades came as the Tribe gathered in a circle around their Tribemate.
“Before we go further- who has been leading the cave-guards?” Green asked, craning her head around to the sturdy group.
“Me,” Storm replied, stepping forward, and he looked relieved when Green gave a nod.
“Good,” the old cat answered, and with a small shuffle she settled deeper into the nest.
For the rest of the day, the Tribe remained within the cave, sharing moments they recalled with the old cat, some funny, some sad, but no cat made mention of the old she-cat’s condition- nor did Skyteller offer more herbs. She had made her choice, and he would honor it.
Toward late afternoon, when it was obvious her fever and pain was getting worse, he made a mix of poppy seeds and aspen buds. He offered it, explained what it was, and was glad when she ate. And then she slept, deeper and deeper until her last breath, loud in the complete silence.
Skyteller gazed down at her, and breathed in. And he smelled the familiar scent of his mate, though she had been gone for many moons, mixed with that of his son and daughter, his mother and father. He saw the Clan cats’ eyes widen, wondered who they were visited by- saw Lily jerk in surprise and lift a paw to her cheek.
It was over too quickly. Regret and sorrow clutched at him, sharp as the day he’d lost them, but he swallowed and lifted his chin. “From her first breath until her last, Shimmer of Green Leaves lived for the Tribe. In her death, she looks over us all. Long may she be remembered.”
“May she never be forgotten,” the Tribe answered back, and then one by one they approached the lifeless she-cat, pressing their noses into her fur for a moment before stepping back for others. When every cat had had their turn, River, Roar, and Leaf approached. As her kin, they would select the spot where she would be buried, and not until they were satisfied would she be laid to rest.
As a whole, the Tribe followed, to watch. The to-bes were kept close, and the cave-guards watched as usual, but nobody else interfered with the three as they searched. But, when they had made their choice, they stood back- and the cave-guards took their turn to dig the hole. Once deep enough, River stepped forward to lower her sister into the hole, and the prey-hunters moved to cover her up. Leaf, with a sprig of leaves she’d taken from a bush, stepped forward to lay it over the grave gently.
A long moment passed, full of silence, and then the Tribe turned away to return to the cave.